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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

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Risk - [Hotch x Reader]

Summary: Things on a case go badly because reader took a risk. The entire team is mad at her...but no one more so than her unit chief.

Pairing: Hotch x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Content Warnings: Rough sex, mild brat taming, pussy slapping, choking, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, Dom!Hotch.

Rating: Explicit

Request prompt: Could you please write a smut (hotch x fem!reader) where reader doesn’t listen to hotch’s orders in a case and she almost gets killed and on the jet on the way home there’s a big ass argument including everyone and it's whole BAU against reader and when they land back home reader is super mad and hotch tells her hes going to take her home and then they have angry sex

A/n: I didn't edit this as thoroughly as I usually do. All mistakes are mine. Hopefully the smut makes up for it. 😌 And I hope the anon that requested this likes it!

-- Risk --

The paramedics had ignored me the multiple times I insisted that I was fine. Luckily, they seemed to agree that I didn’t need to go to the hospital. It was still early enough in the day that the team might be able to fly back home if the local police didn’t need our help wrapping everything up.

I wasn't looking forward to the ass-chewing I knew I was about to get, but I couldn't regret my actions. I'd do it all again, even if that meant feeling a bullet burn across my upper arm.

Once I was released, I made my way over to the SUVs, seeing only Prentiss and JJ standing by them.

“Where is everybody?” I asked once I was close enough.

Both women stiffened at the sound of my voice. Prentiss turned away like I hadn’t spoken. JJ shifted her weight from foot to foot awkwardly.

“They’re wrapping things up with the local police,” the blonde woman answered. “Do you not have to go to the hospital?”

“Just a graze.”

Her eyebrows rose slightly, her lips pressing into a tight line.

“I’ll get the others; maybe we can get the fuck out of here,” Prentiss muttered, walking away without so much as looking at me.

I probably deserved that.

The entire ride to the airstrip was filled with tense silence. Even Rossi wasn’t looking at me. Despite the awkwardness, I still couldn’t bring myself to regret my decision. A 12-year-old girl was going home safe tonight because of me; that was all that mattered.

Everyone else could just scratch their mad spot, as my grandma would say.

I was the last one to board the jet, already dreading the 2-hour flight home from Atlanta. JJ and Reid were on the couch, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss were in the 4 chairs around the small table.

All that suited me just fine, as I really just wanted to go home. I took my seat at the back of the plane, near the section that led to the bathroom. I was prepared to put on my headphones and keep my eyes closed for the entire flight home.

The plane had been in the air for about 20 minutes when one of them finally snapped. I wasn’t surprised that it was Morgan.

“What the fuck were you thinking, y/l/n?” He demanded, his voice low and harsh.

I didn’t bother turning my gaze away from the window. “I was thinking I needed to save Annabelle Richards, who is home safe now. Job done.”

Prentiss scoffed then muttered something under her breath.

“Kiddo,” Rossi began gently. “Yeah, you did the job. But you almost died. You ran in there like a hot head and almost got yourself killed.”

I couldn’t not look at Rossi. He sounded genuinely upset, and the older man had always been unfailingly kind to me in the months since I’d joined the team.

"I know," I conceded, meeting his gaze head-on. "But I couldn't see another way."

“So, you were just going to give up your life? We had no reason to believe they’d release her.” Morgan fumed, back in the game.

“It was our best shot.”

“No, it fucking wasn’t! If you hadn’t been so stupid you would have seen that!”

"Oh, very mature, Morgan. I didn't know we'd resorted to name-calling."

“He’s right,” JJ said, her eyes shifting from Morgan to me. “You were stupid and reckless. You almost died. If Hotch hadn’t taken that shot in time, you would have.”

I licked my lips, my eyes closing briefly. “I understand why you’re upset-“

“No.”

All the air in the room seemed to still at that one word. The voice we had all been waiting for had finally tagged into the match, The Entire BAU vs. Y/n Y/l/n.

I wasn’t prepared for Hotch to fucking stand up and start walking towards the back of the plane, his eyes boring into me. “No, you don’t understand why we’re upset.” His hand gripped the top of the seat in front of me, his knuckles were white with the force of his hold.

“Hotch-“

“Shut UP!” He pointed his index finger at me. “You don’t get to talk. You behaved like a spoiled child. I don’t know how they do things in Richmond, but you’re in fucking Quantico now. You’re a member of my team, and I cannot have rogue agents on my team.”

“What the fuck did you want me to do, Hotch?”

His eyes hardened even more. “I expect all of my agents to stick to the fucking hostage protocol!’

I was on my feet before I even realized I was moving. “She was 12-years-old, and she was screaming!’

“Because she was scared, y/n! She was a child trapped in a building with a mad man and she was scared! We had the profile! We all knew he wasn’t going to hurt her! She was his endgame!”

My fists were balled up at my side. “I couldn’t risk that.”

“Then maybe I can’t risk having you on this team. Sit down, I’ll deal with you when we land.” I opened my mouth to speak, but he snapped again. “That’s a fucking order!”

As you would expect, the remaining hour of the flight home was completely calm and filled with no tension whatsoever.

Not.

Spencer and I were the last ones to get off the plane; he was the only one who hadn’t spoken to me. “Are you mad at me too?”

He licked his lips, considering his words. “I’m not mad like the rest of them. I understand why you felt like you had to do it. I’ve broken protocol like that too. But I am mad because you’re my friend. And because of how you acted, I almost lost my friend.”

Out of all the words hurled at me tonight, Spencer’s actually cut me.

“Reid,” I mumbled out.

“Give them time,” he said, shrugging his bag up on his shoulder before walking away.

Time was not given to me, however. I was standing in front of the elevators when someone called my name from the bullpen.

I turned, giving my unit chief a blank stare. “Yeah?”

“Are you leaving?”

I blinked, then pointed to the elevator.

He wasn’t amused. “Are you going to take the train home?”

“That’s the plan,” I informed him, turning back to face the elevator, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I’m taking you home.”

My head jerked back. “No, you’re not.”

He took a step towards me, his face was set in a scowl that sent criminal running, and he towered over me. “You disobeyed a direct order twice today; I’m still debating on whether or not to put this bullshit in your file and you were shot.”

I mean…he’s not wrong.

“You’re not going to ride a train for 45 minutes when I can get you home in 20.”

I sighed, too tired to fight. “Whatever you say, Sir.”

The longer I sat in the front seat of Hotch’s car, the madder I got. How dare he yell at me in front of the entire time for doing my job? Where the fuck did he get off intimidating me into getting into a car with him? Threatening to put shit in my file when all I did was save a little girl’s life.

“If you have something to say, say it.”

I shouldn’t be surprised that he picked up on my mood shifting. “I thought members of the team didn’t profile each other.”

“You’re not acting like a member of this team, so why should I treat you like one?”

I had to bite down on my tongue to hold the string of curses inside my mouth. This smug mother fucker had absolutely no right to talk to me like that.

What had started out as cold anger now roared to life in my veins; I could feel my hands starting to shake.

Thankfully, he was true to his word and got me home in 20 minutes. The car hadn’t even come to a complete stop before I was undoing my seat belt and grabbing my bag. I shoved the door open, turning around to face him while he still sat in the car, his eyes fixed on me.

“Thanks for the ride, Boss,” I spat out. “Since I’m clearly not compatible with your team, you’ll have my transfer request on your desk first thing in the morning.”

He opened his mouth to say something; probably something that would have made me even more mad. But I cut him off, I couldn’t stop myself. I was fucking seething.

"Fuck you, and your perfect team," I said, slamming the door behind me.

I didn’t want to hear another word from that man, so I darted into my building, taking the three flights of stairs rather than waiting for the elevator. I was still so fucking mad. And what’s more, I actually think I was a little hurt.

I expected the bullet wound to hurt, but I never expected the entire team’s reaction to hurt worse.

Reaching my door, I fished my keys out of my bag, more than ready to get this day over with.

I was so fucking distracted I didn’t realize anyone was behind me until my door was open. A large hand grabbed me by my hair and shoved me inside. I tried to struggle, but his other hand clapped over my mouth while he kicked the door shut behind him.

My pure fucking terror only lasted for a few moments. The man turned me, slamming my back against my front door.

“Hotch! What the fuck! You scared the shit out of me!”

His eyes were the darkest I’d ever seen them; my normally composed supervisor was shaking with fury.

“Good, then you know how it fucking felt to watch you run into that house today,” he sneered, his body pressing me against my door.

Adrenaline was pumping through my blood, my breath coming in fast pants. Hotch’s body was flush against mine, his eyes wild and his breathing just as fast.

“Is that why you’re here, Aaron?” I taunted.

His eyes flashed at the sound of his first name leaving my mouth. Those large hands that were on me a moment ago had been resting on the door, but he brought his left hand down so quickly. He placed it on my throat, his thumb resting against my jaw.

“You know why I’m here.”

“I know why you’re pretending to be here. Your excuse for being here is that I fucked up today. But that’s not why you’re here.” I lined forward, dropping my voice into a mock whisper. “I can feel why you’re really here, Aaron.”

And I could. I didn’t have to be a profiler to see how blown his pupils were, to see how his eyes kept straying down to my lips. I especially didn’t need to be a profiler to feel what was pressed against my body.

His thumb dropped down to the other side of my throat before it squeezed, cutting off just a bit of my blood flow. His right hand came down from the door to squeeze in between our bodies, going right for the button of my pants. I was stunned when I felt it pop open and the zipper lower right before his fingers ghosted over the skin right above the top of my panties.

“What am I going to find when I slip my hand into your panties, y/n?” His breath skimmed over my face; his lips so close to mine. “Do you expect me to believe your little cunt isn’t positively soaked for me?”

“It’s not,” I bit out, stubborn to the end.

Aaron just smirked at me, his fingers moving inside of my panties, down, down, down, until I felt one blunt finger run across my slit, not even spreading me open.

His nose brushed against mine. “You feel pretty wet to me, princess.”

I felt my core throb at his words, but I couldn’t let him win. “I’m not your fucking princess.”

“No,” he mused. “You’re nothing but a little fucking brat.” He removed his hand from my panties, bringing it around to hook under the back of my thigh. “And since you want to act like a brat, I’m going to treat you like a brat.”

That was all the warning I got before his lips crashed against mine, his hand leaving my throat to grab my other thigh. He lifted my feet off the floor, forcing my legs to wrap around his waist.

Aaron Hotchner’s kiss was as intense as every other part of him. He ate at my mouth, biting my bottom lip before running his tongue over it. He ground his hardness against my pussy, smirking against my mouth when I moaned.

“Such a needy fucking girl,” was what he said before he lifted me totally in his arm, stepping away from the door. He walked through the living room.

“First door the left,” I mumbled.

He chuckled while he pushed my bedroom door open. “So, you’re enough of a brat to fight me, but enough of a slut to direct me to your room?”

“Fuck you,” I bit out.

Aaron tossed me on the bed, his hands gripping the waist of both my pants and panties before he yanked them down my legs. He was on top of me a moment later, his hands tearing at my shirt, ripping the buttons off.

“You’re going to regret that.”

A tiny shiver of terror went down my body at his tone, because I believed him.

He yanked the cups of my bra down, his scalding hot mouth wrapping around my nipple at the same time that two of his fingers sunk into me.

"Fuck!" I shouted my back arching, pushing me into him.

I felt his teeth graze over my nipple while his fingers continue to move inside me. His middle and ring finger were pumping into my pussy, the heel of his hand grinding against my clit.

“Aaron,” I whined, my hips squirming. His mouth lifted from my breast, kissing up my chest until he got to my neck.

“What do you want, baby? Do you want me to make you cum?”

I nodded my head frantically, my hips trying to rock against him.

“Why should I let you cum?” His fingers curled inside of me brushing over my g-spot, pulling a loud moan from me.

I felt my orgasm rushing towards me, threatening to consume me right when his fingers pulled out of me.

“Oh my god,” I whined out, my hand moving down to try and rub my clit. I was right there.

His hand was like a vice on my wrist, stilling my movements. “Ah-ah, no. Bratty little girls don’t get to cum.”

“But I’m so close,” I pleaded, my voice a pathetic whimper.

His lips brushed against mine, softly, teasing. “If you want me to let you cum, then you need to prove you can be a good girl.”

Hearing Aaron Hotchner say the words “good girl” was almost enough to send me over the edge.

“Can you be a good girl, y/n?”

“Yes,” I answered, trying to press my lips more firmly against his.

Without warning his hand moved quickly, slapping against my pussy.

“Fuck!” I shrieked, unprepared for the sensation but so desperate for more.

“Yes, what?”

"Yes sir!" I corrected tears of frustration in my eyes.

He moved off of me then, unbuttoning his shirt before pulling it off his shoulders. “Finish taking your clothes off,” he instructed.

I moved to comply quickly, wincing slightly when I pulled my arm out of my sleeve. My bicep was wrapped in thick gauze, the skin around it looking bruised.

Aaron watched me while he took his pants off. “It’s so hard for me to look at you. Because I see you hurting like that and all I want to do is lay you on this bed and treat you like a princess.” He was naked now, and I tried not to stare at him. I’d seen him in workout clothes, I knew he was well muscled. But I did not know he was so toned and well defined.

His cock was hard, the head wet with precum, and it was bigger than I had expected.

I scooted up the bed when he climbed on, stalking towards me. “I just want to eat your pretty pussy until you cum all over me. Then I want to slide inside you and make you feel so good.”

Aaron’s body was over mine, his arms caging me in. “But I can’t do any of that can I?”

He moved away before I could answer. “No, I can’t. So, you’re going to prove to me that you can follow orders. I’m going to lay on this bed, and you’re going to put that bratty little mouth all over my cock. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” I said, scrambling to my knees.

“Such a needy little thing,” he repeated, lying on his back.

One hand braced on the bed, the other reached out to wrap around him. If things were different, I would have teased him, but this fucking need in my body was burning too hot.

I wrapped my lips around the tip of his dick, hollowing out my cheeks, relishing in the guttural moan he let out. I slowly started to bob my head, taking more of him each time I went back down.

“I should have known you’d be good at this,” Aaron groaned out, one hand coming up to grip my hair, guiding my motions. “That smart fucking mouth of yours. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about your pretty lips wrapped around my dick.”

I moaned against him, rubbing my thighs together at his words.

“You’ve thought about that too, haven’t you dirty girl?” He was lifting his hips now, making shallow thrust into my mouth. “Come on, baby. Take it all the way down. I know you can do it.”

I tried to relax my throat, fighting my gag reflex as tears pricked the corners of my eyes. “Come on, sweet girl. Try for me. Be my good girl so I can finally fuck that wet fucking pussy of yours.”

His words spurred me on, I squeezed my thumb in my fist, moving my head all the way down. I felt him hit the back of my throat; I started to gag, but I swallowed reflexively around him.

“Oh, my fucking god,” he groaned, pumping into my mouth a few more times before pulling me off of him. “There’s my good girl,” he praised, pulling my face up to his. Aaron pressed kisses to the sides of my mouth before his lips slid against mine.

He moved quickly, rolling me onto my back, shoving my thighs apart so he could settle between them. One of my hands fisted in my bedsheets, the other braced on his arm. My eyes were fixed on where our bodies were about to join. Aaron gripped his cock, moving it up and down my slit, coating himself in my arousal.

“Wrap your legs around me, baby,” he murmured, urging my legs higher up his abdomen.

I groaned when I felt the head of his cock slip inside me.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking tight, y/n.”

“Aaron,” I whined, shifting my hips underneath him. I was still so close.

“I’ve got you, needy girl.” He shifted his weight and then slammed inside of me, pulling a scream from my throat.

It didn’t hurt, just the opposite. I had never felt so fucking overwhelmed before.

“Please, please, please,” I pleaded.

One of his hands wrapped around my throat while the other gripped my headboard. He started a brutal pace while his hand squeezed against me. “Reach down and rub your clit, Princess,” he ordered his hips slapping against mine. “Come on. Make your pretty pussy cum all over me.”

He wasn’t even finished speaking before my fingers found my clit, circling it furiously. His grip on my throat loosened slightly, his thrusts becoming a bit sharper.

“I want to hear you fucking scream my name, you bratty little thing.”

“Aaron, Aaron, don’t stop. Please!”

With one more hard thrust, my orgasm crested, tearing through my body. I felt my pussy clamp down on his cock, pulling him over the edge too. He pumped inside of me a few more times, pulling every ounce of pleasure he could from me.

I finally came down from my high only to feel Aaron drop on top of me for a moment before he promptly rolled onto his side, so as not to crush me.

His arm wrapped around me, bringing me flush against his side, my head on his chest.

“I’m still mad at you,” he mumbled.

“I know.”

“I’m a little less mad now.”

I smiled. “I figured.”

Taglist: @rachelxwayne @pinkdiamond1016 @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace @nanocoool @andiebeaword @imjusthereformggcontent @rainsong01

@spncersreid

#Criminal minds #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds smut #Aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotchner imagine #Aaron Hotchner x you #Aaron Hotchner x reader #Aaron Hotchner x y/n #Hotch x reader #Hotch x y/n #Hotch x you #Aaron Hotchner smut #Hotch smut #SSA Aaron hotchner

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christinesficrecs · 4 years

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Hey Christine, I hope you are doing fine in these strange times. I wanted to ask you if you happen to know any good fics where Derek is 10 - 20 years older than Stiles. I once read a fic where Derek was Sheriff Stilinskies friend and falls in love with his 18 year old son Stiles. But I can't find it anymore. Maybe you know it. Thank you for everything you do for us.

Hey! Strange indeed. 😱 I hope you are well! I think I might know which fic you mean but the rest I’m totally just guessing at. 🤷🏻‍♀️ I do read older!derek it’s just usually completely by accident.

Also, you could try the big brother tag here and maybe the businessman!derek tag here.

I Just Wanna Be With You Every Day by Brego_Mellon_Nin | 33.9K | Explicit

When his best friend’s son barrels into the kitchen only dressed in a pair of skintight jeans, lean but defined torso on display, Derek knows he’s truly and utterly fucked. Not only is the kid barely eighteen, but he also happens to be the Sheriff’s only son.

Derek makes a vow to himself that he will not seek Stiles out and he’ll get this thing under control.

Wolf Pack: Beacon Original by Beerwolves, fearfrost1211 | 33.1K

When his father landed the Deputy Chief of police position in Beacon Hills, Stiles moved to his new town gladly, embracing the chance of a fresh start. What he didn’t expect was to find himself hopelessly drawn to the gruff Vice President of the local motorcycle gang, the Wolf Pack. Derek Hale, resident bad boy of Beacon Hills, spent his time helping his sister lead the Wolf Pack and working on motorcycles at his family’s automotive garage. Then, one hot summer afternoon a bright-eyed boy walked into his life and turned his world upside down.

How Derek Got His Groove Back by WhoNatural | 4.3K | Explicit

Cora kicks him under the table. “Do you have the hots for the baby lawyer?” she hisses urgently, and Derek blinks at her, feeling his face heat.

“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s young enough to be my--”

“Younger brother,” she cuts in, and shakes her head. “Age difference excuses do not fly with me. Are you gonna ask him out? Derek, you need to do something about that.”

“About what?” he says, frowning, watching as Stiles sits down at a table with a group of older, lawyer-types.

“The fact that you’re both about one drink away from sex in some janitor’s closet.”

Hallways by KeriArentikai | 2.5K | Explicit | Series

The five friends sat at a table in the student union building, laughing over their fast-food lunches.

"Okay," said Jackson, "which prof would you bang?"

"Hale," Erica, Isaac and Stiles all said together. No one was surprised at their answer.

So When Do I Get To Pledge My Loyalty To The Mob? by RedRidingStiles | 10K | Mature

Stiles loses his wallet, someone returns it along with $5,000. Shit keeps coming, Stiles life doesn't make any sense anymore, he's just going with it.

Sideways and Slantways and Longways and Backways by hologramophone | 7.7K

“I called you a slave-driver!” Stiles cried hysterically. “I called you an ogre! I stole all the blue paperclips!” Derek raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s company property!” he shouted, waving his arms madly in distress. Derek ran a hand over his face. “It’s not theft if the vice president of the company gives you permission.”

The Long Way Home by MyChemicalRachel | 19.8K | Explicit

Stiles didn’t plan to sleep with his best friend’s dad. It just kind of happened. And then it happened again. And again. And again…

The Convention by Stiles_Hale_38 | 21.6K | Explicit

Derek is at a convention, no, THE convention. The convention that Alphas meet at twice a year, every year, to pick their omega.

Derek is a very well known Alpha. He's strong, has good ancestors, and has gone through lots of omega training. He knows what he's doing and everyone else knows that as well.

Derek has came to the convention before, but he just never finds anyone. He's not even sure if he wants to.

This time though, this time is different.

Strike Softly (Away From The Body) by qhuinn (tekla) | 34.5K | Explicit

Derek is a bodyguard and Stiles his spoiled, resistant client.

I Hope By the Morning by anynowforyaya | 21.4K | Mature

From the bathroom came sounds of the guy brushing his teeth. Stiles rubbed the fifty dollar bill between his fingers and felt cheap. "Dude, I'm not taking your money."

The guy spat and turned the faucet on. "Take the money. You said you lived in Queens last night? Who the hell lives in Queens."

The fifty seemed gritty in his fingers, but he put it in the back pocket of his ridiculously tight jeans, anyway. That was, like, a five-hour shift at the coffee shop where he worked, Common Grounds, with tips. "And don't call me 'dude,'" the guy continued, turning off the faucet. "I'm not your college bro. It's Derek."

Put Down in Words by paintedrecs | 203.7K | Mature

“Oh,” Stiles said, his voice coming out low and breathy, “fuck me.”

“I don’t think that’s on the syllabus, but we can check to see if there’s a spot open in any of his classes,” Scott said, grinning.

“This isn’t an actual professor, though,” Stiles insisted, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the sharp line of the man’s bearded jaw. He was laughing at something off-camera, the shot taken in three-quarters view, his coat collar casually rumpled and opened to reveal a sliver of a simple grey t-shirt. The whole thing was deliberately calculated to lend him a more accessible feel, and god help him, Stiles was falling for it.

#asks #sterek fics #ficrecs #age difference #older!derek #pattiwantsrain

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histoireettralala · 4 years

Text

How the (Quarantined) Murats broke the Internet (and Lannes).

Hello friends! I know we already have several ongoing projects with @joachimnapoleon, but we couldn’t resist unleashing this one.

It’s set in the Quarantine!AU which is itself a spin off of the Roadtrip!AU, Trifecta Universe, name it as you will :^)

Inspired by real world situation, unfortunately. Hoping this will bring to those of you who are in lockdown (same here!) some much needed levity.

****************************************************************************************

Caroline is cursing the day Napoléon enrolled her in Mme Campan's Institute; no, scrap that/rewind, she is cursing the day he met Joséphine, and consequently, Hortense, bane of her life, goody-two-shoes of the century who has inspired Napoleon with the truly visionary idea of trying to copy and paste Hortense's behaviour onto Caroline's whole self.

Now, Caroline is mature enough to admit some slight controlling tendencies. And maybe a contrarian streak - but try being the youngest sister in the Bonaparte family - you have to fight twice as hard to make yourself a place and get some respect.

Her point is, she hasn't taken to the Institute. For excellent reasons. If Hortense has made it a point of honor to excel in some subject, Caroline has systematically hated it. No use fighting for scraps after the star pupil has received the old hag's whole quota of praise, after all. Now Caroline wholeheartedly embraces whatever makes Madame Campan pinch her lips, shake her head, or sigh (as much as the snobby old lady allows herself to), treasuring every sign of disappointment the way Hortense collects gold stars. (Not to brag, but Caroline is now a master at it).

Even her marriage is a testament to that superhuman ability of hers.

Not that she didn't love Joachim anyway - she's been ridiculously besotted with the man since she was fifteen, and nothing has yet managed to abate her feelings towards the maddening, adorable goofball. But honestly, the way Mme Campan's face had fallen (oh, ever so slightly, but Caroline knows how to look) in disapproval had been the cherry on top of the delightful, curly-haired, long-legged cake.

She has relished every single one of their subsequent media appearances, and she would lie if she says she hasn't occasionally baited the press with their nationwide famous PDA. For now, Caroline admits, in spite of the "scandals" and all the choices she has made, the old witch is still standing and tutting in disapproval - like that would work. But someday, yes, oh someday she would break, and it would be all thanks to Caroline.

So - she is cursing. Because, of course, Hortense has always been committed to arts and crafts, and Caroline, therefore, has pointedly ignored them.

And now she can't sew to save her life.

Literally.

Because masks are mandatory now.

And she has four kids to protect.

And, well, she may suck as a student, but she does NOT suck as a mother. So, taking a deep breath, she watches videos, buys fabric, filters, and elastic bands, and sets herself to the task.

Two hours later, her eyes are red, her voice hoarse, her fingers raw and pricked, and she is irreparably breaking her ties with the sewing machine.

She vaguely considers calling Pauline - even if she can't sew herself (can she ?) Pauline will surely know someone who can, and at least she is kind enough not to let anyone know of Caroline's embarrassing problem.

She is still scowling fiercely when the shrieking chorus begins (the kids' usual reaction to Joachim's arrival), promptly followed by the sound of bags hitting ground and little feet running, three, two, one, impact. And Joachim's laugh.

God but that sound can still bring a smile to her face.

She wipes her eyes and straightens herself up before opening the door to the entry hall where the kids are now swarming around their father and drowning him in cuddles and kisses, stuffing their drawings under his nose and chattering excitedly. ** Beneath the squealing, adoring, warm little pile of his children's wriggling bodies, Joachim soaks up the innocent love and its side dish of kicking little feet and shrieks in the ear. As Louise's sticky little fingers pat his cheek, he sees from the corner of his eye the door open on his wife.

His sunshine.

His glorious little dynamo.

But there's a problem, Joachim thinks frantically (what has he done now ??? nothing comes up!!), because she doesn't spark her usual energy - oh my God, she's disappointed, that's it, disappointed and SAD (WHAT I HAVE DONE ???), her walk is nothing like her usual triumphant gait (it's the COUCH), even her hair looks listless (Lannes may still let me crash, where is my sleeping bag ??). Joachim takes a deep breath and centers himself before looking at her again, and - oh. She's not angry at him.

Oh.

Then whatever has her so bothered is going to die a fiery death and if she wants, Joachim will stomp it to death (with his hooves, Achille's voice adds in his mind).

** Famous last words, Joachim muses, hesitantly fingering the white cotton.

He has watched the video. Three times, to make sure.

He has cut the necessary length and width for six masks (his ambition for tonight is moderate).

The machine looks back at him, reminding him of a crouched feline, poised to pounce. He eyes it warily. Caroline's explanations, though thorough, had been... fast paced. Joachim has caught the general idea and in what order the different steps of the process are supposed to happen. He has minded every fold of the fabric and set aside the elastic bands.

It's... daunting. If he messes that up his family will be stuck inside forever and the house will probably catch fire spontaneously from the sheer frustration burning inside them. Murats need to be OUTSIDE (Bonapartes don't deal much better with being locked up).

He carefully selects the stitch and folds the fabric by instinct - patterns are as useless as maps, anyway - he'll go with his guts and God bless the bold.

He takes a deep breath and lines up the three layers of material - with the elastic bands properly tucked inside- under the needle, lowers the presser foot, and gently pushes on the pedal.

Oh my God.

Oh my God it's happening.

Joachim marvels at the speed the machine uses to execute its task, remembering to steer the fabric only if needed, and being careful with it ("To be honest, sweetie, I'm not even sure if it's working well, " Caroline had admitted. "I think Mama gave it to me, ugh, when I went to the Institute. " Joachim hadn't pushed because he wasn't that insane, some things were taboo in this house).

When the first side is done, he takes a moment to inspect his work before switching to the other side.

Wow.

It's... Pretty okay ?

The mask all done, Joachim holds it to his face, and stands up to find a mirror (they're everywhere in this house, and see, it's useful).

He tries it on.

It's very... white.

Time for some color, he decides.

Heh. If anyone had told him before tonight that he was going to sew a mask and like it, he would have sent them to a psychiatrist. Because, even though he'd been quick to assure Caroline he totally could do this (I've repaired my suits several times! ), his skills were limited to a temporary little tweak and quick repair when he didn't have the time to go to the tailor.

In front of the mirror, Joachim smiles beneath the mask.

This is going swimmingly. ** Caroline grumbles when a weight hollows the mattress out.

"It's late," she mutters.

"Shhhh, " says the voice. Then, with a giddy sort of energy Caroline can only wonder at (who the hell is so alive at such an ungodly hour -oh yeah, that's right, only Joachim). "Love."

A pause.

"Sweetheart ?"

Caroline groans.

"Yeah", she forces out.

"We have seven masks!"

The proclamation wakes Caroline completely and her hand is already searching for the light switch.

"What?"

She pushes the switch and looks at Joachim's face. Blinking under the sudden flood of light, he looks …

Surprised and happy. A little bit like a dog who has just learned a new trick. The smile on his face is infectious.

"You want to see them ?"

Caroline is already up.

In her office, the old machine sleeps and seven masks wait in a wicker basket. They're real. They look like the models Caroline vainly tried to follow. She touches them, putting one over her face. It fits. The elastics do not hurt.

They have masks.

Joachim watches her, waiting anxiously for her verdict. Her eyes shine in the mirror, and then she turns towards him, takes off the mask and sets it aside.

A purring Caroline leaps into his arms.

So much for sleep.

** At the usual hour, Lannes, bottle and glass at the ready, flicks on Skype. He has so much to tell Murat (to be honest, he never knew before quarantine how much of a gossip he'd turn out to be, but what can you do) and even without any grand news (which is the case most of the time) it's always a highlight of his day.

The kids are lovely but sometimes you need an adult conversation, okay ?

An adult male conversation.

A bro discussion, yeah, okay.

"Murat ?" he calls.

Weird. Usually Joachim leaps onto any greeting, if he's not the first one to call.

"Yo ? Murat ?"

Nothing.

"JOACHIM MURAT" he bellows.

Finally, a harried face appears. The black curls are everywhere and the eyes seem inhabited by some unholy light.

Has Joachim started to drink without him ?

Or worse, with someone else ?

Lannes feels oddly cheated at the idea.

"Ah, yeah, okay, hello, Lannes!" says Murat, blinking. "Is it already time ?"

Already ? The day had dragged on.

"What the hell is happening," he blurts out. "Have you started drinking ?"

Murat looks weirdly offended, scrunching up his nose.

"Drink- what ? No!"

He straightens up and clears his throat.

"No, Lannes, I didn't cheat on our Skype cocktail hour with some random booze harlot, I respect you too much for that. I was just, " he lowers his voice and Lannes instinctively leans towards his screen, intrigued.

"I was busy.

- Are the kids okay ?

- Yeah, they're fine! Excellent! The spirit is undaunted, yeah!

- Joachim," Lannes slowly articulates.

Artless blue eyes look up at him.

"I was making masks, and I forgot the time, that's all!"

- Masks, " Lannes repeats in a bland tone.

- Masks," Joachim nods.

- Masks ?" What the hell, Lannes wonders, masks, like, actual masks against Coronavirus ? Masks, as in, paper masks or clown masks for the kids, right ?

- Masks, as in, mandatory masks, yeah, I'm making them, " and Lannes has stepped into an alternate dimension.

- You're making masks.

- I am.

- Masks.

- Masks, " Joachim patiently assures him.

- Making ? As in, as in SEWING them ?"

The black curls fly as Murat vehemently nods.

Holy shit.

Lannes almost busts a gut laughing.

" I could show you", Murat says with a hint of disapproval in his voice (it was weird) "but if this is the way you react I might not bother."

The laughter stops short. Murat's headmasterly tones are frankly weirding Lannes out.

Is this a prank ?

Lannes knows it's not. It's all over Murat's face. He's actually serious.

Holy shit.

"Why are you the one sewing the masks ?" he finally asks.

"Because," Murat shrugs. "I volunteered."

Lannes blinks.

"Plus, " he adds, with a smile, " Turns out I'm great at it!"

That is still to be seen, Lannes thinks, remembering, oh, way too many boasts.

"You'll see", Murat nods sagely.

"Right", Lannes croaks.

The evening goes on.

** He made the haberdashery's day, Joachim thinks, fabric piled up in his arms.

Good for them, and good for his family.

Today, he is going to let the kids choose the fabric for their masks. Just because they are young doesn't mean they have to settle for their parents' choice, right ? He carefully picked anything that could interest or amuse the little ones.

He has turtles, an armada of kittens, various birds, flowers, geometric patterns, dots and stripes of all sorts.

"What are you doing, Papa ?"

Joachim turns to face Letitia.

"I just bought some fabric to make some masks for you all, sweetheart. Do you want to choose yours ?"

The little girl nods eagerly.

"Can I stay with you ?" she says, leaning into him.

Joachim can't resist such a request.

** Caroline climbs up the stairs to Joachim's office where he finally set camp with the sewing machine two days ago.

She is still mesmerized by his mastery over the beast.

He has adopted a routine, and tonight, she needs proof that Joachim sewing actually happened (Pauline had laughed, and Joséphine had asked for receipts), so she's carrying her camera. She scowls inwardly, why can't anyone ever believe them ? Joachim told her about Lannes the other day - well, what is so extraordinary about it ? Being male doesn't make you genetically unable to sew, you know. Men!

Hushed voices wash over her, Letitia's flute-like voice overlapping with Joachim's warm tones.

"And then I put the fabric here," their little girl is saying.

"Uh huh," her man agrees, with the softness he saves for his children (and herself). " Perfect!"

Letitia giggles.

Caroline, readying her camera, silently enters the room. Both father and daughter are so absorbed by their task and by each other that they don't notice her presence.

Letitia sits on her father's knee, her little hands holding the fabric - a giraffe pattern - and Joachim is entirely focused on her.

Caroline starts filming.

When the giraffe-adorned mask is ready, Letitia snuggles into her father's chest and he offers her the next selection, apparently a swarm of tropical fishes.

"Your turn, Papa", says the little girl.

"Oh, you're right, princess", Joachim smiles, mock chastened. "Shall I ?"

Letitia nods determinedly. “Go on good Sir".

Joachim sews the next mask.

It's very sweet, Caroline thinks, beaming behind her camera. This is the perfect proof that she was right, not only about his sewing ability, but about her own choice years ago. I'm so going to upload this as soon as I'm out of here, she rejoices.

** New video uploaded, by @carolinemurat, 7.54

@pauline-borghese, 8.01: oh my god it's so cute!

@pauline-borghese, 8.01: and he's doing great!! how many has joachim already sewn ?

@pauline-borghese, 8.08: sorry, just had to watch it again. (<3) This is an adorable duo and you were totally right, I should never have doubted you.

@joséphine-malmaison, 8.14: wow

@hortense-beauharnais-bonaparte, 8.14: I'm speechless.

@hortense-beauharnais-bonaparte, 8.14: In a very good way!! Congratulations to Joachim.

@joséphine-malmaison, 8.17: very sweet and actually educational! Congratulations!

@aimée-davout, 8.26: I wish Louis would do that with our little one!

@joséphine-malmaison, 8.34: Can I share this on other social medias , Caroline ?

@pauline-borghese, 8.36: was about to suggest the same! I can boost it up with my contacts. Up for it sister ?

The phone rings.

"Mama ?"

"Uh huh, he did that. He's... Yes, Mama, he actually offered, and.. Mama. Mama! Listen to me please ? Yes, I promise. Uh huh. Yes. Yes, really. Did you watch the video ? You really should, your namesake is on it too. "

Ten minutes later.

"Yes, Mama ? Is everything - oh. Oh. Well, yes, he's still sewing. Wha- yes, Mama, I won't disturb him. Of course, Mama. You.. what ? His favorite dessert ? Why... Mama we're in lockdown, he can't go to Corsica. You.. Ah, yes, of course, I'll ask him. And yes, of course, I'm feeding him! Mama!"

@aglaéauguiéney, 8.47: mind boggling.

@eleonoredenuelle, 8.49: how talented can a man be ?

@hortense-beauharnais-bonaparte, 8.53: It's actually a better tutorial than the official ones ? And so much cuter.

@hortense-beauharnais-bonaparte, 8.55: I wish I had a little girl.

@carolinemurat, to @joséphine-malmaison, @pauline-borghese, 8.58: Yes.

TBF...

#fanfiction #QuarantineAU #How the Murats broke the Internet (and Lannes)#part1 #joachim murat #caroline bonaparte murat #jean lannes #and many others

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ultraaanime · 5 years

Text

Who do you think taught Sero how to roll?

“Who do you think taught Sero how to roll?” // College AU // Bakugou x OC

Rating: M - Warnings: Aged-up +21, Drugs (of the weed verity), Alcohol Use, Swearing, mentions and talking of sex.

WC: 2, 181

Hi! My Name is Bell, I am so new to this. This is my first thing I’ve written for My hero Academia and Bakugou, so hopefully you enjoy. I have been writing or trying to write for a while now and I haven’t really branched out into fanfic, but I thought why the hell not. My semester is pretty light, and I could totally avoid real life right now.

The title is a reference to the ridiculously funny Real Bros of Simi Valley. The O.C. I have is named Valerie Valentine, and I will probably be writing A LOT more with her, and they won’t all be AUs, I already have her quirk together, but I wanted to test the waters first. Also, Bakugou is a tiny bit ooc in this mostly because it’s a quirk-less AU and he’s also older and a tiny bit more mature. He’s still a twat though just tamed down. This is the first one-shot of a small blurb of college stories between my OC and BK.

Well, I will stop rambling, and please please enjoy! Oh! And please be kind xoxo!

***************************************************************************************************

Honestly, I can't really explain how I got myself into this current situation. I could maybe allude it being paired with the energic, loud, spunky pink-haired girl who didn't know the first thing about cellular biology in our Sophomore year, who eventually talked me into hanging out with her without mentioning anything bio-related, or maybe it's because I'm a pushover who's willing to do whatever her friends ask of her.

Either way, I can't blame anyone but myself, and in reality, it's not like it's that different than any other Friday night. Drinks, games, movies with the usual group: regular, average, and even fun. The only difference between this Friday and last, is that everyone decided to cancel. Kaminari was the first, which means Jirou wasn't coming either, then almost immediately after that, Sero bailed out as well. I tried to cancel but Mina's insistent begging, mixed with "It's not as fun when its only Kiri and the gremlin!" So really, there was no way I was going to get out of it. But I didn't see the night playing out with Bakugou and I ending up on the couch while we awkwardly drink our beer and pretend not to hear what's going on behind Mina's closed door.

It's not like Bakugou, and I didn't like each other. It was more like we just don't talk to each other. In the few times we have its mostly just hellos or meaningless small talk that I don't think either of us remember. Truthfully, I think it just that he doesn't enjoy the fact that I'm an outsider to his very tightknit group. I mean, these guys have known each other since high school, and I'm just the random girl that Mina inserted without any question in the third semester of school. Luckily, everyone else was welcoming and genuinely excited to get to know me, but Bakugou just seemed to put off. I tried not to look into it, everyone said that that was just who he was. And it's not like I'm missing much, he's always pretty transparent when it comes to what he wants or how he feels. I don't really need to have a personal conversation with him to know that he's loud and brash and that to him everyone is absolutely shitty.

Somewhere along these past couple of months though I noticed that I notice him, and it seems I just wasn't ready to be utterly alone with him in such a… delicate situation.

The noise from the television was loud, loud enough to dim the sounds from the next room, but definitely not loud enough to drown out the awkwardness of the living room. My hands were starting to sweat, and the beer in my grasp has grown way warmer than it was five minutes ago. Sinking back into the couch, I dragged the warm bottle to my lips. I took this moment to steal a glance at the man diagonal to me only to realize he's staring. "You know I-- "the words fumbled from my lips, the bottle in my hand slid until I caught it at the neck, and my body rocketed to an upright position.

"This happens every fucking time." He cocked his neck to one side, looking over at me with half-lidded eyes. "You'd think that since they made these stupid plans, they'd at least stay apart of them."

This is weird, I feel funny, get out of this situation as fast as you can. But those red eyes of his did things to me, and this is the first time I have ever seen him take more than a glance at me. At that moment, I had such sympathy for Kaminari; short-circuiting of the brain makes it really hard for rational thoughts to form and for the brain to tell your mouth not to say stupid shit.

"In a way I'm actually kind of jealous that they fuck so much, and that they are so into each other that they don't care about leaving us out here together. I haven't had sex in like, months, from classes and labs and work, I got so caught up in everything else I kind of forgot that sex was a thing? Like I can handle myself, so, if anything, this is like foreplay for me for when I get home."

What the fuck? What the actual fuck is wrong with me?

I squeezed my eyes closed, chugging the rest of my beer. There wasn't even a second of uncomfortable silence before I heard a sound, a sound that I have never heard come from him before. He was cackling. Full on, heartedly cackling.

"What the fuck?" Bakugou laughed with full gusto, eyes tightly shut one hand on his stomach with the other holding his beer to the coffee table. "Fucking Valentine, what the hell is wrong with you." He gasped out.

For a second, I almost forgot how embarrassed I was, his laugh was so distracting. The cackle faded into light giggles, and he looked sinful and cute all at the same time. It got worse when he tipped his bottle back to his lips, all the while still looking at me.

Panicking, I reached for my bag that was thrown on the floor in front of me, grabbing it quickly and shooting up from the couch I spoke, "Okay. I think I'm just going to go. I'll text Mina when I get home." I turned slightly, and bowed to him, "Always a pleasure, Bakugou."

He threw out his arm, latching his hand around my wrist. "Why the fuck are you being so weird tonight Valentine? Its barely even ten 'o'clock, and you aren't leaving me out here alone to listen to them fuck like rabbits." He pulled my wrist down hard, making my body slam back into the couch. Landing right on the edge of the sofa, near him. So close that my clothed knee brushed his. "Plus," he leaned in, pushing my shoulders back, so I was slumped. "I know you won't get that far. I know that shitty hair is your ride home because all the shuttles stop running at nine."

Breathing out a nervous huff, "Okay." Typically, I wasn't such an awkward person, or at least I usually don't feel this uncomfortable. It's just Bakugou: transparent, loud, blunt, and angry Bakugou. The Bakugou who often doesn't even think twice about my presence. "Okay." God. What could I do in this moment not to think about how hot his knee feels pressed against mine? To make me not notice that he smells like fucking caramel and spice? Anything for me just to fucking relax and stop feeling my heart in my throat. Then, it clicked, the perfect idea to loosen up and enjoy this rare moment. I shrugged my bag off my shoulder, turning slightly to shuffle through the contents. Turning back to him with my hands full and a sly smile, I buzzed, "Do you want me to roll us a blunt while you get us another beer?"

It felt like it had been decades since I've seen that feral grin of his, and my heartbeat slowed immediately. For this split second, everything felt like it had every other time we hung out as a group, the only difference is that I proposed the idea instead of our good buddy Sero.

Shaking my grinder from side-to-side, I grab the two different cigar wraps. "Mango or tropical fruit?"

Bakugou walked around me, deciding to sit right next to me on the couch instead of the chair he was just occupying. Twisting both lids of the beer, he tossed the caps on the table, taking a quick swig out of before setting them both down. "Mango, definitely mango. I fucking hate the way the tropical tastes."

Making a mental note, I set the grinder down and opened the mango cigarillos, sliding one of them into my hand. "Can I see your pocketknife?" Without hesitation, Bakugou straightened his legs and lifted his butt to dig into his front pocket. He whipped the red plated knife, opened it, and handed it to me. Taking it in one movement, I carefully sliced a straight line from one end to another before dumping the tobacco into the ashtray on Mina's coffee table.

"I didn't realize you even knew how to roll a blunt." Glancing back over my right shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "Really, Bakugou? I've never seen you roll one either; actually, I don't think I've ever seen you take more than one hit." I refocused on the task in front of me, knowing that his face was probably red from anger and a little bit of embarrassment. I've been an awkward mess since Mina and Kiri left the room, but now that I feel a bit in my element, teasing him is a little fun.

"Oi, fuck you. I may have never done it, but I guarantee you I can roll better than you." He lightly slapped my arm with the back of his hand, making sure not to jerk me too much. "and I don't like to do it often, not as often as you fucking potheads. It always makes it difficult to run the mornings after."

"Hmm," I mumbled and nodded my head as I licked across the top of the wrapper, sealing the bud in tight. "Grab the lighter from my bag please. And I get it, it's not your thing, but it helps me get creative and eases my anxiety. Plus, it kind of made me feel included when I first met you guys." I grabbed the lighter from his hand, lighting the pinched end. "I know that might be weird, but Kaminari and Sero were the easiest to please, and it seemed weed was the right way to do it." I turned my body sideways, folding my legs, so they laid on top of the left thigh. I held my breath for a second, making sure it was fine with him and brought the blunt to my lips when he let his arm fall over the couch on the side of me.

Sucking in the smoke and holding it for a couple seconds, I handed it to him. Puffing out the smoke towards the ceiling and not his face. Instead of responding, he immediately took his hit, coughing a little bit in the process. "It's easy to please dunce face and the other moron. I wouldn't take too much pride in it."

"Hey! I do take pride in it! You guys are a really great group of people, and I was excited to be a part of it and get to know everyone." I took another puff. "It's not my fault that they are simple creatures and are easy to talk too, unlike some people," I spoke with a small smile on my lips, hoping that he didn't take offense and saw that I was just teasing. Flirting even.

He took the blunt from me, taking two puff back to back. "I'm not that fucking hard to talk to, and I'm fucking grateful I'm not fucking simple like those extras." He immediately started to giggle while he pulled in another drag before handing it back to me. I could help but join him. Not only because I could feel that I was a little high already, but also because he wasn't totally wrong. Now that I was loosened up and a little bit inhibited, he was comfortable and even fun to talk to too.

"Okay, okay. Enough about everyone else." I moved my legs from their folded position and straightened them across his lap. I sucked in a breath when he relaxed his other arm over my legs. "I want to get to know you. Let's play twenty questions, whoever has the blunt has to ask the questions and the other answers, good?" I asked breezily.

"Fine, let's do this shitty girl."

Bakugou and I spent the next thirty minutes, passing the blunt back and forth and asking each other different questions. It was almost surreal considering how awkward I was with him not even an hour ago, but now I am so glad I didn't leave out of embarrassment. Turns out he isn't as transparent and angry and harsh as I thought, and it seemed that deep down this boy was soft. And now I am so much more fucking soft for him.

Bakugou took in the last hit before cashing the roach in the tray. Leaning towards me until our faces were close together, he said with a sly smirk "I will say, and remember this because I will never compliment you or that fucker again, but you rolled that blunt way fucking better than Sero, and he rolls a decent blunt."

I moved in closer, so that our noses brushed together, my breath hitched as a giggled out, "Who do you think taught Sero how to roll?"

"You aren't bad, Valentine, not bad at all." He pulled away and settled back into the couch, his hands gripping my calves. "Roll another."

So I did.

#Bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo imagine #my hero academia #buko no hero academia #bnha bakugou #bnha oc #Bakugou x oc #my hero fanfic #fan fiction

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humankoalaa · 5 years

Text

freeland ive missed you!

BLACK LIGHTNING!

everytime a recap starts with thundergrace a child is fed. don’t @ me.

im not even 30 seconds in the damn episode and im already dying 🤣🤣 lala and this same damn tracksuit with the pinky ring. BRO… who are you 😩

the fact that LALA shows up with a gun in hand. like can we give him another entrance? and also how many times has he resurrected now? 🤦🏾‍♀️

jefferson calling lala latavius still gets me everytime 🤣 how many times has that man said his name is lala Jeff? huh?

LMAOOO i ain’t even finish the initial sentence and lala once again tells Jeff his name is lala!

lemme find out cress tryna grow his hair out.

okay okay resurrected twice. got it.

this beat in the background lit tho.

this ninja done shot super dad.

jenn would be tryna make her suit cute 🤣🤣🤣🤣

“i shouldn’t have to sacrifice style for practicality” 🤣🤣🤣🤣 i love jenn so much.

she’s seriously talking about nice fabric for her suit. i can’t. this is just so jenn and these writers are just brilliant!

that old suit tho… hot garbage 🥴😩

this lab scene is everything tho 😭 the power of jenn!

who is earl tho?

awh lawd they done resurrected the entire unintentional suicide squad 🤦🏾‍♀️

oh nevermind lala seeing shit again.

WHO IS EARL 😩

lol sit down lala that chair ain’t do shit to you

jenn is the realest 😭

anissa in tears breaking my heart 😭

“just go find grace” OKAY?! say it louder!

best little sister ever.

nafessa tho 😍

lmao that fast little daughter of yours 😂 okay lynn. OK.

christine got the best fade tho.

agent rafiki back on his bullshit.

agent yoda: “do you understand what im saying?”… lynn: “you don’t like dogs?” 🤣🤣🤣🤣

who. is. earl.

“i will shoot you straight in the face” 😂😂 this is the blackest thing that’s ever been said on the cw 🤣

i like don’t care about any of this tho…

finally some damn action from the great value suicide squad.

wardrobe department…. why y’all got cress in these tight ass pants tho? 😩

is that earl?

lol i forgot todd died.

agent extra terrestrial needs to die.

nafessa looking fye again 😩😍

wait…. i know damn well that’s not grace growling. shit it better not be 😩 im scared of what’s behind that door and Anissa isn’t suited up like 🥴

🤣🤣 “i can hear someone in here” first of all … anissa… does it sound like whatever is in there human? like are you not hearing these growls? welll she didn’t see grace malfunctioning right in front of her so im actually not surprised but still 😩

“or at least i could” 🤣🤣🤣🤣 AKA im not leaving till you open the door.

we got tobias speaking to portraits, lala speaking to his … conscience..s? and now anissa talking through a door to whatever was growling.. i miss anyone?.. oh and jenn talking to her laptop. k.

OMGG HE SCARED THE SHIT OUTTA ME HOW AGGRESSIVE HE OPENED THAT DOOR 😩 least it’s wasnt grace growling but if this is her brother errr.. relax.

he rude as hell.

“trouble will find you if you do not leave this place” 🤣🤣🤣🤣 the delivery took me out.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣😩 that fly. where did that damn fly just appear from 😩

anissa so damn persistent. im here for this.

OH MY GOD

is she fucking glitching while shape shifting?! 😩 like what is she?! 😩😩

chantal looks beautiful 😭 well ..in her true… form?…. or .. well when she looks like grace. that hair is giving me life.

soooooo anissa now has no choice but to show up as thunder to save her girl who actually doesnt need saving from anyone… but herself 😭

oh hey earl. but like bye earl. this part of the episode is just annoying now 🙄 long ass drawn out ass scenes.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 but why earl look like a pokemon? snorlax to be exact.

jenn running in the lair excited for her suit 😭

THUNDER! LETS FUCKIN GOOOOOO!

lol more growling. like is grace just chillin inside her apartment as a lion? seems like something she would do.

i really wanna know how bad it smells in there tho 😂

WAIT. NEVERMIND. is that like a dead deer?

like is she just casually roaming around freeland with dead animals on her back or is she also a flying dinosaur with a invisibility cloak….

OMG wait 😩 this can’t be. no. just. NO.

🤣🤣🤣🤣 grace as this damn man and this voice i just can’t. im not mature enough for this.

OH NO SHE DID NOT

they really bout to fight!

there better be at least one thunderclap 😤

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤦🏾‍♀️ okay jet li. i can’t take “him” serious. was that a knife hand? 😂

thunder using her ponytail as a weapon is next level extra 😂

fuck his ass up thunder!

shit.

🤣🤣🤣🤣 look right 🤦🏾‍♀️🤣🤦🏾‍♀️😩🤦🏾‍♀️ i just 😭 let me get this straight… you mean to tell me grace knew damn well that was anissa and instead of being like … “let’s go back to your place and talk about this horizontally in the nude preferably” she opted to beat the breaks off thunder then….turn …into a.. growling black animal with a tail?… and just… jumped… … out.. the …. window?… what type of shit is that 😩

like what kind of woman lover are you grace. it’s only one thing im doing if i found out my girlfriend was essentially the baddest motherfucker in the city… ima pounce on that ass and get to hunching 🤷🏾‍♀️

it’s like they’re set on making grace the next lolo jones and the queen of hide and seek. jesus. when will this end? im tied y’all. TIED. JUST TELL HER!!!

JENN 🤣🤦🏾‍♀️

…. the fuck.

yeah this shits getting real weird.

this dude breath gotta smell like shit. baking biscuits in the corners of his mouth and shit 🤮 all that damn spit 😩

lol agent looking like everyone’s morning shit might’ve just played himself. whatcha gon do if they lied tho? how you gon find out who else they told now that you’ve killed them? i hope they were lying 😩😩😩😩

but all in all this episode was solid. too many long ass filler scenes with lala but whatever.

until next time…. i must end this with… grace being a useless bisexual and anissa being a useless lesbian match made in heaven 😍 i still can’t believe grace jumped out the damn window KNOWING it was anissa under the damn suit. smh that window deserved better.

WAYMENT… i just realized something…. anissas bout to be mad ass hell grace beat the shit out of her 😂😂 K N O W I N G L Y at that 😩 she did hold back tho… which may make anissa even madder 😂🤦🏾‍♀️

#thundergrace #black lightning #black lighting spoilers #anissa pierce #grace choi #chantal thuy #nafessa williams

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allyhq · 5 years

Text

TIMEFRAME: June 10th, evening.

LOCATION: The apartment.

TAGGING: Brady Clarington & Stevie Evans. ( @therealstevee )

WARNINGS: None, just dumb boys and some lowkey feels later.

“Dude, if you’re gonna make shitty videos can you at least not be in my room to do it? ‘Cause only one of us is gonna have to edit all the shit out of it when you’re done.” Not that Brady was actually going to sleep or anything like that. He just liked giving Stevie a hard time, and no doubt did so more than anyone else. He sat up in his bed, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. “And if you try to put me in this vlog I will end you. And your career.”

Stevie lowered his phone just slightly, but didn’t stop recording. “Uh, excuse you. Fired.” He zoomed in towards Brady’s face and grinned to himself before finally stopping it completely. “How dare you call my videos shitty. ‘Just okay’, yeah. But shitty? I thought we were friends.” Stevie came over and let himself fall heavily on the bed beside him, the phone still in hand. “Come on, just one sec for the thumbnail. Let everyone see that bedhead look you got goin’ on, you’ll gain like a thousand followers in like ten seconds.” He raised the phone up, camera pointed towards them, but he didn’t press record just yet. He was mostly giving him a hard time, but he wasn’t gonna film him without his permission. “Let me be the camera man just this once.”

“Bro, I’m about to roll you right onto the floor.” He thought he could just sit on Brady’s bed, in Brady’s own room and disrespect him like this? Unbelievable. “Jeez, fine, put me in the freaking vlog.” He paused. “But for the record, you’re way overestimating your instagram power and I think the universe knows that.” He waited until Stevie started recording, and then Brady reflexively threw up a peace sign at the camera. “Sup fam? Tell ya boy to stop harassing me in my safe space.

“Sounds fun bro, but you don’t have to hurt me. I’m clean; I showered.” Stevie defended himself lightly, truly not thinking that there was any issue with him being there. In fact, he scooted up further on the bed after he’d kicked his shoes off, getting far enough to sit up next to him. He wasn’t thinking about invading his space at all, although he made a mental note to bring him a Starbucks later on for putting up with his ideas. “You’re underestimating our fans. I’ve gotten a buncha DM’s about them wanting to see us in bed together so I’m just listenin’ to the audience.” At that moment, he held his phone up and hit record. At Brady’s response to the camera, he fake glared in his direction. “Hey! I always let you in my room, that’s not fair. Sorry guys, I’m pretty sure I just woke him up, but uh — here he is. I know you hate me and all Brady, but can we do one Q&A? Please? I might have asked them to send us questions earlier.”

“I don’t think this is exactly what they meant by that.” Though Brady was sure this would be taken out of context once it went live on Stevie’s channel. He’d obviously seen the comments. Stevie never really thought about how stuff like this would be taken, it seemed, but Brady always took note. Not that he’d ever say anything, because he knew the truth so it shouldn’t be a big deal. Brady rolled his eyes, but Stevie had already promised his audience something to look forward to, and Brady wasn’t about to be the asshole that let that all go to waste. “Ugh, fine. But we’re keeping it surface level. Not in the mood for your deep questions.”

Stevie just smiled at that and shrugged. He knew what their followers said about them, and it never bothered him in the slightest. It was always kind of funny to him, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't like the attention his videos brought him. Brady was his best friend, so he never thought twice about joking around with him about it. Brady was straight, so he knew he never took him to heart. "I promise, no deep questions. An' you can cut this out and edit it to make me seem like the bad guy. I owe you after this, dude." He said, his tone almost apologetic, hoping Brady wasn't really upset about it. Quickly, he got into character, clearing his throat dramatically and grinning easily as he held the camera up so they were both in view. "Okay, time for a BRAVIE Q&A." He shook the camera a little in his hand, creating his own sloppy affects. "I'll just do what I remember, sorry if we leave anyone else guys." Stevie squinted as he strained to recall the questions he saw on twitter, and he turned his head towards him. "What's the biggest thing I do that annoys you the most? And you CAN'T say breaking into your room." He wagged his finger in his direction. "That's already obvious.”

Right, he did have the power of editing. Brady liked having control over things in general, which was probably one of the biggest reasons he was ever okay with being in these videos. At the end of the day, he had a huge say in what parts of himself were shown. “The thing that annoys me most?” Brady repeated, thinking about what the best answer would be. “Probably just taking my shit without asking. Like my clothes you wanna borrow or whatever. Like... I know I do the same thing to you, but it still annoys me when you do it.” He shrugged. The least he could be was honest.

Stevie sat up straighter at that, not truly hurt but playing it up for the camera. Sure, okay, he might’ve borrowed things from time to time. He might even be borrowing one of Brady’s shirts right now. But what was so wrong with that? So maybe Stevie's boundaries weren't the greatest, but he never thought it bothered him that much. “So you can take my stuff but I can’t take yours? Well okay.” His brow furrowed as he processed, and he addressed the camera. "If y'all wouldn't mind me borrowing your clothes, like this video. One of you could be my replacement Brady." He joked. "I wasn't asked, but my biggest peeve is when you get mad at me then do the same thing. Like eating the last waffle. How are we even friends?" He teased then waved towards Brady's phone. "Wanna pull up twitter and read off a couple'a questions for me? Your pick."

"Did I say that?" Brady challenged. He and Stevie were always like this, just back and forth banter and picking on each other. He rolled his eyes at Stevie's response, but grinned regardless. "If I eat the last waffle, I replace them. Like, damn dude, I'm not an animal." At Stevie's suggestion, Brady shrugged. "Not really, since this wasn't my idea, but I guess it's kind of expected of me now." He grabbed his phone and went over to Stevie's twitter so he could find the questions. "Uh... okay, while I'm looking why don't you tell me the thing you like about me?"

"You didn't not say it." He replied back, the grin appearing on his face as though second nature. It was always so easy to tease Brady; it'd been that way since they met. "Okay, I'll give you that. It's having to wait for the waffle I don't like --- ya boy gets hungry." He conceded, jokingly. Stevie sat up, almost excited that Brady was finally getting into it. About time. The only thing was that his question caught him off guard, and he looked at him for a moment in thought. It took all he had not to blurt out something dumb like your eyes or your smile or i like the look you give me that i never see you give anyone else. But he had plenty of practice keeping those thoughts quiet, so he immediately shut them down. "I like a lot of things about you, dude. There's a reason you're my freakin' camera man - don't act like you dunno." Stevie said sincerely with a shrug, trying to play it off. "But the thing I like the most?" He considered it briefly. "I like how you never treat me like I'm dumb. Even when I am. And how you put up with stupid shit like this." Ain't that the truth. Stevie scooted back some and peeked over his shoulder to read the question's as Brady scrolled. "I'd ask you the same but I feel like I'm pushin' my luck here."

There were few things Brady wouldn't do for a waffle, so he had to give it to Stevie. Dude had a point. "I'll try to make a household announcement when I eat the last one so at least you're aware." And he would certainly remember to yell it at the top of his lungs. Brady pressed his lips into a tight line when Stevie started answering the question, mostly because...well, he didn't really expect it, he supposed. He thought Stevie would have more of a joke answer, and he wasn't prepared for his stomach to sink the way it did, even if it was just Stevie being a good friend and saying something kind about him. "I mean, you're not dumb, you just...do dumb things sometimes. But like, whatever bro, we all do." Brady shrugged, trying to push it all to the back of his mind. "I like that you haven't fired me and kicked me out yet," Brady said with a smirk, still scrolling through the questions. A cop out? Sure, but that was Brady for you. "Here's one. What do we wanna dress up as for Halloween this year?"

Briefly Stevie imagined Brady with a giant megaphone to alert him whenever they were low and the important stuff --- like waffles. That'd be the only legitimate reason to get a megaphone, but he had a feeling that they'd abuse that fast. Wow, he was really maturing. As Stevie finished speaking and Brady had a chance to process what he said, Stevie was suddenly nervous. He wasn't shy about telling someone when he cared about them. His family always was affectionate and vocal about those things. But for the first time he was briefly concerned he'd said too much. But thankfully Brady didn't notice. Stevie relaxed with a small grin. "Yeah, I know. That's the other thing I like about you. You do dumb things with me." That's what he liked about him from the start, after all. "Uh --- I have fired you. Several times actually. Not my fault you keep coming back for more." He wasn't able to read a lot of the questions as Brady flicked passed them, but there were some he caught glimpses of that he was glad Brady decided to skip passed. Yikes they had some dedicated fans. At the question, he felt his energy rise, and he gently hit Brady in the arm. "I was thinking about this, dude. I have a couple of ideas. But I'm thinking we blend is as the security and see if anyone even notices us. We can film the whole time at one of the giant ass parties and they can't even kick us out for it. Smart, right? Unless you got any better ideas?"

Brady shrugged. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.” He had, in fact, been fired several times. He just never took it seriously, because obviously Stevie didn’t mean for it to be taken seriously. Until the day he did, at which point... well, Brady would probably figure it out pretty quick. “Bro, that’s the best.” The idea of playing the part of security at a party they clearly were not security for was downright hilarious. "I don’t have any better ideas. That’s kinda perfect.” He sighed as he continued to scroll. “Alright, let’s see here...”

#brady / stevie.#brady thread.#//yeah this is being posted a month later wanna fight about it????

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perlukafarinn · 6 years

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ok, prompt! brave but lonely stanford-era dean, abandoned by sam and john, runs into super badass makes-demons-flee-in-terror angel cas, with all the angel power originally implied in season 4, except without the apocalypse backstory? and if you're so inclined, a follow-up where "normal" lawyer sam is reunited with his loser bro years later only to be totally blindsided by how dean's matured and happy and more true to himself than sam is?

Deep down, Dean always knew he was gonna die young. He just didn’t expect to die alone, with Sam at Stanford and Dad off chasing whatever thing killed Mom by himself.

As his back hits the wall of the abandoned factory these monsters holed up in - and Dean doesn’t even know the particular type of ugly that’s about to kill him - Dean can’t help but wish they were here with him. He knows it’s selfish. These suckers outnumber him ten to one so Sam and Dad would probably be going down with him if they were here. But then again, he’s always been selfish.

He raises his gun, prepared to defend himself to the last even if the bullets don’t seem to do squat against these things, when a huge flash of white washes across his vision, followed by deafening thunder. Dean blinks, heart hammering and hands trembling, but he can’t see shit. Can only hear the terrified, inhuman shrieks.

By the time his vision clears, the monsters all lie dead at his feet, and in the middle of the carnage stands a perfectly ordinary looking dude in a beige trenchcoat.

Dean trains his gun on him. “Who the hell are you?”

“Your savior.” The guy’s voice is deep and gravelly and there’s something unearthly about him that Dean can’t quite place, despite his unassuming appearance. “You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Dean says, and shoots.

The guy doesn’t even flinch when the bullet hits. There’s no blood, either, and if Dean needed any confirmation that he was in even deeper shit than before, this is it.

“What the hell are you?” he amends, hoping to God he doesn’t sound as spooked as he feels.

The guy glances down at his chest, then back up at Dean. “I am Castiel, angel of the Lord.”

Dean scoffs. “There’s no such-”

Before he can even finish speaking, the guy - Castiel - disappears before his eyes. Dean looks around wildly, but there’s no trace of him. No hint left of his existence except the dead and still unidentified monsters littering the floor.

Dean waits a couple of minutes, but nothing else happens. Finally, he holsters his gun and gets the hell out of dodge.

A couple of months pass after that, and Dean is ready to chalk it all up to some fever dream. Then he finds himself surrounded on a hunt and without back-up again, staring down the inky black eyes of what can only be freaking demons.

On instinct he calls out, “If you’re real, Castiel, now would be a real choice fucking moment to show up.”

The demon closest to him chuckles. “I knew you were desperate, but praying to angels? Those winged dick-bags abandoned this plane long ago.”

He takes a step closer to Dean, who find himself backed into a corner without even so much as a useless weapon this time around. He almost weeps with relief when Castiel pops up behind the demons.

“Close your eyes,” he commands and Dean doesn’t think twice before obeying, seeing Castiel reach for the nearest demon’s head just before his eyes snap shut.

A series of brilliant white lights flash beyond his eyelids and he hears the sickening thud of a lifeless bodies hitting the ground. By the time he opens his eyes again, Castiel is standing above the smoking, eyeless remains of the demons’ vessels.

“Holy shit,” Dean breathes. “You gotta teach me that trick.”

“It cannot be taught,” Castiel says. He’s staring down at the demons and when he looks back up at Dean he frowns. “You’re hurt.”

Dean reaches for the bleeding gash on his forehead on instinct before dropping his hand. “Uh, yeah. Kinda comes with the territory.”

He’s not expecting Castiel to step closer. He flinches away when he reaches out, but Castiel’s touch is gentle as he rests his fingertips around the wound, warmth emanating from them and erasing the pain.

He draws away and Dean reaches for his forehead, finding it completely healed.

“Holy shit,” Dean repeats softly. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“I can’t ignore direct prayers,” Castiel says. “So I would appreciate it if you only called me for emergencies from now on.”

Dean scoffs, the warmth from Castiel’s healing touch instantly gone. “That was an emergency, dude. Those were demons!”

“If you had bothered to learn a simple exorcism, you could have taken care of them on your own.”

“How the hell was I supposed to know that demons would be after me?” Dean demands. “They’re not exactly common.”

“Perhaps not, but you are a high value target.”

A shiver runs down Dean’s spine. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Instead of answering, Castiel up and fucking disappears. Again.

“You really gotta stop ending conversations this way,” Dean shouts into the empty room. “It’s rude!”

The next time Castiel shows up, Dean isn’t even in mortal danger. Really. He totally could have taken down that werewolf by himself.

“It would have ripped your throat out five seconds after I showed up,” Castiel informs him as he helps Dean to his feet. It’s the first time he’s touched Dean since he healed him.

“Then you cut it kinda close, don’t you think?”

Castiel ignores him. As usual. “Why can’t you stay out of trouble?”

“I’m a hunter,” Dean says. “Looking for trouble is kind of in the job description. And it’s not so easy doing it by yourself, okay?”

“Then why are you by yourself?”

Dean’s jaw snaps shut. That is not a conversation he’s gonna have with Castiel, or anyone, ever. “Aren’t you normally gone by now?”

Castiel blinks. If Dean didn’t know better, he’d say he looks offended. “If that is what you want.”

He doesn’t give Dean a chance to tell him that no, the last thing he wants is to be left alone. Just disappears. Again.

“You’d think an angel would have thicker skin,” Dean mumbles to himself. He’s not disappointed by Castiel up and leaving again. He’s not.

Another couple of months pass before Castiel shows up again. Dean has been hunting with Dad some, though of course that was never gonna last, and soon enough he finds himself alone and overpowered yet again.

What the fuck is it about him that attracts these demons?

“It’s your soul,” Castiel tells him when he asks. “It shines like a beacon.”

“Well, that’s not at all disturbing,” Dean mutters. He turns to Castiel and says a little louder, “At least stick around long enough to let me buy you a drink this time.”

He flushes a little, only realizing once he’s said it how it sounds. But Castiel doesn’t seem to pick up on the unspoken offer underneath. Which is good, because it’s absolutely not there. Dean just wants to thank the dude for saving his life, it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s unfairly attractive.

“I don’t need to drink,” Castiel says. Then, seemingly as an afterthought, “Or eat.”

“Forget ‘need’,” Dean tells him, stepping up to Castiel and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

His body is more built than it appears underneath that trenchcoat but more than that, it’s hard and unyielding in a way human bodies aren’t. Dean briefly wonders whether he could get that to change, whether Castiel would melt against him if he only touched him the right way, before quickly shaking himself. That is a dangerous train of thought.

“Just let me treat you,” he says, squeezing Castiel’s shoulder.

Castiel frowns but doesn’t protest as Dean leads him outside to the Impala. He gets into the passenger seat as ordered and although he frowns when Dean turns the radio on, he doesn’t complain when ‘Immigrant Song’ starts playing at full blast.

Dean grins as he pulls onto the road, giddy despite himself.

It takes a couple of hours to find a decent bar but once they do, Dean sits Castiel down in a corner booth and goes up to the bar to order them five shots each. Might as well see what the alcohol tolerance of angels is.

He sits down across from Castiel, followed by the waitress who brings them their shots on a tray. Dean divides them between the two of them, smirking at Castiel.

“Just throw them back, one by one,” he instructs. “But stop if you’re feeling sick.”

Castiel frowns. He slowly lowers his gaze to the shots, then picks up the first one and downs it in one smooth sip. “It tastes unpleasant,” he tells Dean after he’s swallowed.

“That’s why you drink them so fast.”

Castiel doesn’t seem any closer to understanding, but he grabs the next shot and downs it. Then the next, and the next.

Dean whistles. “Might wanna slow down there.”

Castiel ignores him, grabbing his last shot and drinking it. “I think,” he says slowly after swallowing it,“that it’s beginning to affect me.”

Dean’s eyebrows fly up. Wordlessly, he slides his own shots across the table to Castiel, then flags down the waitress to bring them ten more.

This is gonna cost him.

Dean ends up drinking only a couple of shots and a bottle of beer himself, leaving the rest to Castiel. Even so, they barely seem to affect him.

“That is some party trick,” Dean tells him as they leave the bar. “How much do you reckon will take to get you properly drunk?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel admits. Despite not really being drunk, he’s at least a little looser than before, and he actually smiles at Dean when Dean wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him close for support. “I have never imbibed alcohol before.”

“Next time you’re paying for your own damn shots,” Dean tells him.

They reach the Impala and as Dean leans against her door, somehow the most natural thing in the world seems to be to pull Castiel in close by the lapels of his stupid coat and kiss him.

Castiel pulls away at the first touch of their lips, looking bewildered. “Dean, I-”

Dean lets go of him, shame burning in his gut. “Fuck, sorry. I have no idea what I was- fucking stupid, of course you wouldn’t be interested in-”

“I am interested,” Castiel cuts him off. He grimaces. “But I shouldn’t… I can’t.”

He gives Dean an imploring look, pleading with him to understand, and Dean fucking gets it, okay? He isn’t meant to have nice things. It figures the first guy - the first person - he’s been attracted to in a long while isn’t even capable of reciprocating.

“They’re probably missing you up in heaven,” Dean mutters, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

Castiel tries to catch his gaze but Dean studiously avoids it, looking over his shoulder instead. Castiel sighs, and then he’s off. This close, Dean can feel the slight breeze caused by his departure.

He stands rooted to the spot for a good five minutes, until the night chill has made his toes numb.

The next time Cas shows up, Dean isn’t even hunting. Rather, it’s after a hunt and he’s sitting at a bar by himself, nursing a whiskey and a pounding headache.

“I’m sure that isn’t helping,” Cas tells him.

He raises his hand towards Dean, who bats it away.

“It’s just a small concussion,” he slurs. “Nuthin’ to worry about.”

“You’re in pain,” Cas says. “I would say that is something to worry about.”

“I deserve it,” Dean mumbles. “Got sloppy. How the hell’m I s’pposed to save people if I can’t even take care of myself?”

Cas doesn’t answer. Dean downs the rest of his drink and turns his way, stomach twisting at the frown Cas is sporting. What’s he got to look so unhappy about? Dean’s the one who keeps getting ditched by everyone.

“Y’got something to say?” he challenges.

Cas glares at him. “You shouldn’t treat your life or your well-being so lightly.”

Dean throws out his hands, grinning bitterly. “No one else cares, do they? So why should I?”

Suddenly, Cas grabs his shoulder and yanks at him. For one split second, Dean is tumbling down from the bar stool, and then his surroundings are changing, the dinky bar replaced by a darkly lit motel room, and Dean is falling back onto a surprisingly soft mattress.

“The hell?” he breathes. His stomach is turning, everything spinning before his eyes.

Before he can even catch his bearings, Cas is crawling on top of him, straddling his waist, and if Dean wasn’t so confused he’d probably be really turned on right about now.

Sex seems to be the last thing on Cas’ mind, though, eyes burning with righteous anger as he stares Dean down.

“You do not get to throw your life away,” he growls, hands shooting out and grabbing Dean’s wrists as he tries to move, effectively pinning him down. “You are so determined to get yourself killed, you don’t even think about the people you would be leaving behind.”

A hot burst of anger goes through Dean. “Who? Who the fuck would I be leaving behind? Sam? My dad? They’ve both left, you think either of them gives a shit whether I live or die?”

“Me,” Cas bites out. “I care. I couldn’t bear it if you-”

He cuts himself off, leaning down and capturing Dean’s lips with his own. Dean surges into it; this much, he’s good at, even if he doesn’t have the first clue about what to do with Cas’ confession. He moans, grinding upwards, sparks shooting through him at the first tantalizing brush of Cas’ cock against his through layers of fabric.

Cas breaks the kiss then, already panting and staring down at Dean with a lost, wild expression.

“I thought you couldn’t,” Dean says, the first stupid thing that pops into his mind.

“I can’t,” Cas confirms but then he leans down anyway, and just like that they’re kissing again.

They don’t go any further, but they kiss until Dean is drifting off to sleep. The last thing he’s aware of is Cas rearranging their bodies, pulling Dean further into his embrace.

Some time in the night, Dean wakes up, nose buried in the crook of Cas’ neck. Still half-asleep and completely unguarded, he can’t help asking, “Are you staying?”

Cas’ arm tightens around him and he presses a kiss against Dean’s crown before answering, “I’m staying.”

Cas stays, true to his word. He makes himself scarce whenever Dad shows up, but otherwise he stays. Dean doesn’t go on another hunt alone after that.

When Dad disappears, Dean wonders briefly whether he should involve Sam. But Sam has his own life, and even though his family has all left him Dean isn’t alone anymore.

#avyssoseleison #deancas #spn fanfic #stanford!era #perlukafarinn writes #prompt fill #Anonymous #canon divergent fic

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braxarchives · 4 years

Text

Brax Q&A ― CANON. (current verse)

In which Max’s boundaries are questionable when it comes to his best friend, and Brady somehow entertains it for the sake of their YouTube following.

“Dude, if you’re gonna make shitty videos can you at least not be in my room to do it? ‘Cause only one of us is gonna have to edit all the shit out of it when you’re done.” Not that Brady was actually going to sleep or anything like that. He just liked giving Max a hard time, and no doubt did so more than anyone else. He sat up in his bed, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. “And if you try to put me in this vlog I will end you. And your career.”

Max lowered his phone just slightly, but didn’t stop recording. “Uh, excuse you. Fired.” He zoomed in towards Brady’s face and grinned to himself before finally stopping it completely. “How dare you call my videos shitty. ‘Just okay’, yeah. But shitty? I thought we were friends.” Max came over and let himself fall heavily on the bed beside him, the phone still in hand. “Come on, just one sec for the thumbnail. Let everyone see that bedhead look you got goin’ on, you’ll gain like a thousand followers in like ten seconds.” He raised the phone up, camera pointed towards them, but he didn’t press record just yet. He was mostly giving him a hard time, but he wasn’t gonna film him without his permission. “Let me be the camera man just this once.”

“Bro, I’m about to roll you right onto the floor.” He thought he could just sit on Brady’s bed, in Brady’s own room and disrespect him like this? Unbelievable. “Jeez, fine, put me in the freaking vlog.” He paused. “But for the record, you’re way overestimating your Instagram power and I think the universe knows that.” He waited until Max started recording, and then Brady reflexively threw up a peace sign at the camera. “Sup fam? Tell ya boy to stop harassing me in my safe space.

“Sounds fun bro, but you don’t have to hurt me. I’m clean; I showered.” Max defended himself lightly, truly not thinking that there was any issue with him being there. In fact, he scooted up further on the bed after he’d kicked his shoes off, getting far enough to sit up next to him. He wasn’t thinking about invading his space at all, although he made a mental note to bring him a Starbucks later on for putting up with his ideas. “You’re underestimating our fans. I’ve gotten a buncha DM’s about them wanting to see us in bed together so I’m just listenin’ to the audience.” At that moment, he held his phone up and hit record. At Brady’s response to the camera, he fake glared in his direction. “Hey! I always let you in my room, that’s not fair. Sorry guys, I’m pretty sure I just woke him up, but uh — here he is. I know you hate me and all Brady, but can we do one Q&A? Please? I might have asked them to send us questions earlier.”

“I don’t think this is exactly what they meant by that.” Though Brady was sure this would be taken out of context once it went live on Max’s channel. He’d obviously seen the comments. Max never really thought about how stuff like this would be taken, it seemed, but Brady always took note. Not that he’d ever say anything, because he knew the truth so it shouldn’t be a big deal. Brady rolled his eyes, but Max had already promised his audience something to look forward to, and Brady wasn’t about to be the asshole that let that all go to waste. “Ugh, fine. But we’re keeping it surface level. Not in the mood for your deep questions.”

Max just smiled at that and shrugged. He knew what their followers said about them, and it never bothered him in the slightest. It was always kind of funny to him, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't like the attention his videos brought him. Brady was his best friend, so he never thought twice about joking around with him about it. Brady was straight, so he knew he never took him to heart. "I promise, no deep questions. An' you can cut this out and edit it to make me seem like the bad guy. I owe you after this, dude." He said, his tone almost apologetic, hoping Brady wasn't really upset about it. Quickly, he got into character, clearing his throat dramatically and grinning easily as he held the camera up so they were both in view. "Okay, time for a BRAX Q&A." He shook the camera a little in his hand, creating his own sloppy affects. "I'll just do what I remember, sorry if we leave anyone else guys." Max squinted as he strained to recall the questions he saw on twitter, and he turned his head towards him. "What's the biggest thing I do that annoys you the most? And you CAN'T say breaking into your room." He wagged his finger in his direction. "That's already obvious."

Max sat up straighter at that, not truly hurt but playing it up for the camera. Sure, okay, he might’ve borrowed things from time to time. He might even be borrowing one of Brady’s shirts right now. But what was so wrong with that? So maybe Stevie's boundaries weren't the greatest, but he never thought it bothered him that much. “So you can take my stuff but I can’t take yours? Well okay.” His brow furrowed as he processed, and he addressed the camera. "If y'all wouldn't mind me borrowing your clothes, like this video. One of you could be my replacement Brady." He joked. "I wasn't asked, but my biggest peeve is when you get mad at me then do the same thing. Like eating the last waffle. How are we even friends?" He teased then waved towards Brady's phone. "Wanna pull up twitter and read off a couple'a questions for me? Your pick."

"Did I say that?" Brady challenged. He and Max were always like this, just back and forth banter and picking on each other. He rolled his eyes at Max’s response, but grinned regardless. "If I eat the last waffle, I replace them. Like, damn dude, I'm not an animal." At Max’s suggestion, Brady shrugged. "Not really, since this wasn't my idea, but I guess it's kind of expected of me now." He grabbed his phone and went over to Max’s twitter so he could find the questions. "Uh... okay, while I'm looking why don't you tell me the thing you like about me?"

"You didn't not say it." He replied back, the grin appearing on his face as though second nature. It was always so easy to tease Brady; it'd been that way since they met. "Okay, I'll give you that. It's having to wait for the waffle I don't like --- ya boy gets hungry." He conceded. Max sat up, almost excited that Brady was finally getting into it. About time. The only thing was that his question caught him off guard, and he looked at him for a moment in thought. It took all he had not to blurt out something dumb, like: your eyes, or your smile, or i like the look you give me that i never see you give anyone else. But he had plenty of practice keeping those thoughts quiet, so he immediately shut them down. "I like a lot of things about you, dude. There's a reason you're my freakin' camera man - don't act like you dunno." Max said sincerely with a shrug, trying to play it off. "But the thing I like the most?" He considered it briefly. "I like how you never treat me like I'm dumb. Even when I am. And how you put up with stupid shit like this." Ain't that the truth. Max scooted back some and peeked over his shoulder to read the question's as Brady scrolled. "I'd ask you the same but I feel like I'm pushin' my luck here."

There were few things Brady wouldn't do for a waffle, so he had to give it to Max. Dude had a point. "I'll try to make a household announcement when I eat the last one so at least you're aware." And he would certainly remember to yell it at the top of his lungs. Brady pressed his lips into a tight line when Max started answering the question, mostly because...well, he didn't really expect it, he supposed. He thought Max would have more of a joke answer, and he wasn't prepared for his stomach to sink the way it did, even if it was just Max being a good friend and saying something kind about him. "I mean, you're not dumb, you just...do dumb things sometimes. But like, whatever bro, we all do." Brady shrugged, trying to push it all to the back of his mind. "I like that you haven't fired me and kicked me out yet," Brady said with a smirk, still scrolling through the questions. A cop out? Sure, but that was Brady for you. "Here's one. What do we wanna dress up as for Halloween this year?"

Briefly Max imagined Brady with a giant megaphone to alert him whenever they were low and the important stuff --- like waffles. That'd be the only legitimate reason to get a megaphone, but he had a feeling that they'd abuse that fast. Wow, he was really maturing. As Max finished speaking and Brady had a chance to process what he said, Max was suddenly nervous. He wasn't shy about telling someone when he cared about them. His family always was affectionate and vocal about those things. But for the first time he was briefly concerned he'd said too much. But thankfully Brady didn't notice. Max relaxed with a small grin. "Yeah, I know. That's the other thing I like about you. You do dumb things with me." That's what he liked about him from the start, after all. "Uh --- I have fired you. Several times actually. Not my fault you keep coming back for more." He wasn't able to read a lot of the questions as Brady flicked passed them, but there were some he caught glimpses of that he was glad Brady decided to skip passed. Yikes they had some dedicated fans. At the question, he felt his energy rise, and he gently hit Brady in the arm. "I was thinking about this, dude. I have a couple of ideas. But I'm thinking we blend is as the security and see if anyone even notices us. We can film the whole time at one of the giant ass parties and they can't even kick us out for it. Smart, right? Unless you got any better ideas?"

#CANON #brax q&a #current verse #001

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evenstevensranked · 7 years

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#24: Season 3, Episode 10 - “Hutch Boy”

School bully Lloyd Offler targets Louis as his next victim. Meanwhile, Ren’s hair is accidentally dyed blonde!

First off, I just want to say that I'm dedicating this review to Brad Bufanda, the actor who played Lloyd. It was brought to my attention on Instagram that he just recently passed away on November 1st. He was 34. Very strange timing because this episode was next on my list already and I was working on the review as I found out. My heart kinda sank. I feel really weird segueing into my regular, light-hearted style now after the fact -- but I figure it's actually better to keep things light during darker times. So yeah. Let's do this!

This one opens with one of the most incredible things ever: a flying squirrel. Not an actual flying squirrel of course, but a mechanical one that Louis and Twitty rigged to scare Tom -- who happens to have an extremely specific and strange fear of flying squirrels. I wonder what instilled that fear? lol. How many squirrels have you seen flyin' around out there?

This bit used to have me in stitches. Tom’s terrified scream is something you have to hear for yourself.

Just then, some guy named Lloyd Offler approaches them and starts yelling at Louis for giving him "hard looks." Like, excuse me? I'll never understand how bullies pick their victims. Louis is the best, leave him alone. I know that Louis, Tawny, and Tom are supposed to be outcasts of sorts (leaving out Twitty because we’ve seen that he’s actually pretty popular)... But still. Louis is cool imo. Lloyd walks away, but not before letting Louis know that he’s on his radar now. Great.

~Radar~

Cut to the subplot. Ren volunteers her hair to the “Future Beauticians” Club, and let me tell you... I had such an ah-ha moment when I was re-watching this episode. For whatever reason, I always thought the club was called the Future PETITIONS club. Ruby says the name so fast it’s hard to understand. I was always so confused, like... What the heck is that? What petitions? And what do they have to do with dyeing hair? And then it hit me. I kid you not, it was like the skies opened up! "Beauticians” obviously makes so much more sense, lol.

To Ren’s horror, her hair turns out platinum blonde. Ruby has a flashback to the moment it all went wrong. We see that mid-gossip, she was distracted and poured soda into the dye mixture instead of whatever else she was supposed to use. I always felt personally responsible for this accident because she starts off the gossip with "So, I'm talkin' to Brittany..." Don't drag me into this, Ruby.

At least it was “natural” soda.

Ren is furious at first but soon notices that her hair is garnering attention. So she starts strutting down the hall to a "Walking on Sunshine" rip off.

This is another situation like the "Staying Alive" rip off in Stevens Genes. From memory, I would've bet money that the actual "Walking on Sunshine" was used here!! But nope. I'm still fascinated by how the brain can be tricked like that. Girls are staring at Ren with jealousy now and guys are checking her out... including Louis -- who doesn’t recognize her at first. It’s highly disturbing.

“hey, blondie... how u doin?” - Louis stop. Ignoring the fact that it’s Ren, it’s so weird to see Louis attempt to hit on someone. *shivers with disgust* I take back what I said about him being cool.

At lunch, the gang is laughing about how Lloyd’s name is spelled with two L’s. “Maybe he pronounces it La-Loyd?” Tawny jokes. Louis dies of laughter and says “...And my name’s La-Louis” so sarcastically. IT GETS ME EVERY TIME. Shia is so full of joy here and the whole scene has such an organic feel to it. You get the sense that these are real friends at school having a laugh. It’s contagious and warms my heart.

So pure.

Suddenly.......... this iMovie “suspense” sound effect plays twice as Lloyd appears hovering behind Louis asking “You having a good time, La-Louis?” Why are these double L jokes so funny to me?! Oh my god. Lloyd picks up Louis’ sandwich, licks it dramatically, and puts it back on his tray. Nice guy! Louis tries to reason with him, but Lloyd refuses and says “See you in shop class” ominously.

During shop class Louis is so afraid of what Lloyd might do, he’s quite literally shaking like a leaf. Twitty tries to reassure him by saying the teacher is nearby and won’t let anything happen to him. But then the teacher is all “I’m gonna step out of the room for a minute and I will take my time.” This is so good. Now that they’re alone, Lloyd snatches away Louis' “shelf” project and puts it in the hutch he's constructing. This is a great bit though because Louis decides to face Lloyd then and apologize (even though he did nothing wrong.) It’s really nice. Louis is so sincere and mature here. Lloyd seemingly accepts the apology... but then stuffs Louis into the hutch as well. (see cover photo)

Tom politely confronts Lloyd insisting he let Louis out of the hutch, before he says “I’m sorry it’s come to this...” and randomly goes completely black belt on Lloyd to everyone's shock. Then again, was it to everyone’s shock? Because their classmates emerged from their workstations, conveniently holding up wood for Tom to break lol. I love how the teacher walks back in while Tom is kickin’ around like he’s Jackie Chan, and has one of those “f this, I’m out” moments:

This show’s humor was way ahead of its time.

Louis is beyond shocked and it always cracks me up when Tom calmly helps Louis out of the hutch and whispers “Come on, buddy.” I don’t know what it is... but it’s just so freaking funny. There’s this hilarious ~zen~ music playing as well which is the icing on the cake. There’s a great line later that day when Louis starts evaluating the situation: “If Tom was the biggest wimp at school, and he saved MY butt? That means I’M THE BIGGEST WIMP AT SCHOOL.” ....true tho. Twitty mentions our good ol’ buddy Pete who everyone apparently prays to on this show when he says “Who would’ve known he was an honest to Pete, second degree black belt?!” lol.

To wrap up Ren’s plot, because not too much else happens: She basically becomes an overtly stereotypical blonde overnight. Constantly saying “oh muh gosh!,” reading fashion magazines during class, and blowing off her commitments to roller skate in the house instead.

Okay, is she curling her hair now? or did they honestly think we wouldn’t notice that Ren’s hair magically became curly after it was dyed blonde. Who picked this wig?

She also went out and got a whole new wardrobe to go with her hair or something?! Because these clothes she’s wearing do not seem like stuff she already had in her closet. Ruby rounds up a bunch of blondes from LJH and holds a mini intervention for Ren -- telling her that she’s giving blondes a bad name. And that’s pretty much it! Ruby dyes her hair back to normal.

I love how Ruby left her “a little souvenir” of blonde! I’ve been dyeing one small section of my hair blonde for years now, so this always makes me happy lol. Look at how much body Ren’s “hair” has when she’s blonde and how flat it is when she’s back to normal lol.... seems legit. I also definitely owned that yellow and blue striped top that girl on the left is wearing.

Back to Louis’ drama. Tom is outside casually practicing his martial arts when Louis approaches him with some hot chocolate from Doris. Tom’s so ~in the zone~ that he almost roundhouse kicks Louis in the face. I needed to gif it:

Louis tells Tom that he wants to be just like him, he wants to learn how to fight. Tom agrees to teach Louis ~his ways~ and I swear this is one of my favorite bits EVERRRRRRR. There’s no way I’m typing all of this out. You have to feast your eyes on the greatness yourself:

youtube

“Louis... did I mention it takes 9 years to learn my ways?” - This show is absolute GOLD, I do not care what anyone says.

Who knew Fred Meyers could actually do all of that, though?! So yeah, after telling Lloyd he’d fight him, even though he can’t fight -- Tom tells Louis his only option is to “find his inner strength and harness it.” And Louis, being the actual genius he is, takes that advice quite literally. I also love how Louis just says “meet me in the alley at 7″ .......which alley, bro? Ya also gotta love that “The Rock” reference. (”If you smell what Louis is cookin’!”) This show really did pick the BEST things to reference when it came to pop culture. It feels like Dwayne Johnson is everywhere these days!

The last big scene of the episode is the alley sequence, and I love it so much. Louis has Beans and Twitty secretly help him work a harness he rigged to fly around like some crazy martial arts master just to freak Lloyd out and avoid fighting altogether. It starts off pretty hilarious (Louis literally does the macarena as a “kung fu” move) but then it gets serious for a minute and it’s perfect. Of course, it all goes down in flames and Lloyd sees the wire. It feels so satisfying to reach the heart of a bully. It's great when you start to see Lloyd feel bad about how he’s treated Louis and I freaking love how Louis gives in, but at the same time -- stands up for himself. He tells Lloyd to beat him up, almost pressuring him to do so -- which obviously makes Lloyd NOT want to beat him up. It's great.

“I’ve come to the realization that if I’m gonna get hit, I’m gonna get hit. You know what you’re gonna wanna do? Get some towels. ‘Cause I’m a bleeder.” - Yesss, Louis.

This leads to one of my favorite little exchanges in the series. Lloyd immediately becomes a huge softie and wants to know how Louis pulled off the harness trick and they quickly start bonding over engineering. Lloyd is all "I didn't know you were into mechanical stuff!" And Louis says "Yeah, dude. I am. But you were too busy putting me in your hutch." - I'm sooo glad they actually had Louis say that engineering is something he's into! Because otherwise, his inventions come across as nothing but wacky things that only exist to support the gags he pulls with no further explanation. Idk. It's such a short moment, but it makes me so happy every time!!! Louis even gives Lloyd a quick rundown of the materials he used to rig the harness and idk man, it just makes me smile. I LOVE THIS CHARACTER SO MUCH. (I also just noticed that the flying squirrel gag was solid foreshadowing for this harness rig.)

I always get a little sad that Lloyd didn't become a bit of a recurring character for the rest of the season or something. This final scene between them has a ~beginning of a beautiful friendship~ sort of vibe. Lloyd invites Louis to check out his home workshop and ugh it’s so nice. We hardly ever see Louis with any friends outside of his core group, let alone someone else who shares his love of engineering, so maybe that’s why this scene always hits me.

I really like this episode for some reason. Always have. Like, A LOT. I think it’s because of the big showdown in shop class. And Louis wanting to learn martial arts from Tom. And the flying squirrel. And Louis and Lloyd in the alley. It's all amazing. And Ren’s plot is pretty fun, too. This is just an awesome episode all around.

Rest in Peace, Brad Bufanda.

Thanks for reading! And please contribute to the conversation below if ya like.

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mama-ghostie-61542 · 7 years

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The Hamato Chronicles--Ch. 2

Rated M for Mature

If ya recognize it, it ain't mine.

Chapter Two

Leo’s POV

It was about 6a.m. when my nose woke me up. ‘Mikey must be trying to make biscuits again’, I thought.

I stumbled to the bathroom. I did my morning routine and hit the shower. Normally, at this time of day, there was a ton of hot water, but there were spots where it went ice cold.

About the time I turned the water off, there was a big bang on the door.

“Dude! Hurry up, I need to pee!”

“You have external plumbing and we live in a sewer,” I stated.

“Like hell I do, maggot! Move!”

It was then that I realized it was a girl. I seriously thought about beating Raph for bringing a girl here, but I wrapped my towel around my hips and opened the door.

“Marlowe,” I shrieked, reaching for my sister.

“No time, Leo, gotta pee,” she said as she pushed me out of the bathroom and locked the door. A second later I heard her contented sigh, a moment after that came the flush. Then there was the momentary sound of water being turned on, then back off. Next, my sister unlocked the door and opened it.

Smiling, she said, “Ya know, Leo, I about jimmied the lock.”

“But Lowe,” I blushed, thoroughly embarrassed that my sister would have caught me in my birthday suit.

“Oh, come on, Leo; I diapered you boys and I have been married twice. A penis doesn’t scare me. And I have seen some pretty scary stuff in the Corps. Now, finish up. Breakfast should be about ready when you get there. Just keep it quiet.”

I smiled and nodded, then padded down the hall to my old room and started to get clothes on. As I pulled up my boxer briefs a sudden thought hit me. If she diapered all four of us, then she had seen the weird freckle on my ass. That was a mortifying thought. Was she there when we were baptized and Raph pissed on Father Corelli?

I finished dressing and tried to use my ninja skills to surprise my big sister, but just as I stepped into the kitchen, she turned and handed me the silverware.

“Set the table,” she said as she turned to me. “Good try though, KaBong.”

I smiled at a childhood nickname, “Thanks, Lowe.” Then I grabbed her arm as she walked past me and pulled my tiny, little, big sister into a huge hug. I love Marlowe’s hugs. She is the only girl I have ever met who tries to get her arms all the way around my shell but generally settles for gripping on at least one of my coastal scutes.

“I’m glad you are home and safe, Sis,” I whispered against the top of her head. “I missed you.”

She chuckled and buried her face in my chest and said, “I missed you too, little brother.”

About that time, we heard the boys waking up.

Don’s POV

I padded out of my old lab and saw Leo standing in the kitchen. That in itself was terrifying. But, what set me on edge was knowing that he was hugging someone. As I walked closer to them, I caught sight of DCU pants and sock feet; human sock feet. However, the pants are what gave it away. I only knew of one person who would wear those. I jumped into a group hug that pinned my big sister between my older brother and me.

Hugging my sister, I kissed the top of her head and teared up a bit. The day I had prayed for had finally come. My sister was home.

Next, we heard the water come on in the bathroom. Then, Marlowe smiled softly and dislodged us from her person and went back to fixing breakfast. I knew then we were in for a treat. As much as I love Italian food, I LOVE my sister’s cooking.

Raph’s POV

I smelled homemade biscuits. That is what woke me up. I showered quickly, imagining the buttery goodness with what smelled like sausage gravy, eggs, and hash browns. Someone else had to be cooking, Mikey can’t make gravy to save his life. Meeting my baby bro at the bathroom door though, let me know it wasn’t him.

“Dude, do you smell that,” Mikey asked, his eyes wide.

“Yep, can’t be Leo.”

“No, Don banned him from helping. Could it be Donnie?”

“Nah, D would have turned it into research and burned it. So that leaves Dad,” I whispered.

Mikey shook his head, “No, Dad won’t make gravy and hash browns at the same time. Bro, let me pee and we will both go see.”

Mere minutes later, Mikey and I were silently padding through the old place on our way to the kitchen. Mikey stopped me suddenly and placed a finger over his mouth in the sign to hush, then wiggled his fingers by his ear slit.

We heard a woman’s voice, “Java’s ready, Donnie.”

But Don’s reply blew us away.

“Thanks, Lowe.”

Our eyes lit up! Our big sister was home! We were asses and elbows running for the kitchen. I turned the corner and there, in her sock feet and DCU pants with a tan colored A-shirt on, and buzz cut, black hair was Marlowe, my human big sister.

“Marlowe,” I somehow managed to choke out around the lump in my throat and the growing tightness in my chest.

Marlowe’s POV

I had just taken the last of the hash browns out of the grease when something large hit me in the back. I turned to see my baby brother, Angel; a name only I was allowed to call him, hopping from one foot to the other with a look of intense joy on his face. He reminded me of a little boy who thought Christmas had come early.

I swear that kid grows an extra set of arms and legs every single time I come home, even if I’m just on leave. My news is gonna explode this one.

I heard my name, near sobbed from the doorway and saw Raph, fighting to keep his tough guy persona going. Don’t tell anyone, but it is close between him and Donnie as to who is my favorite. I know, I’m not supposed to have a favorite, but I do. In fact, I have two.

As I started toward my hot-headed little brother, his knees gave out.

Raph’s POV

My knees went weak and gave out as my big sister wrapped her arms around me.

I sobbed on her as she kissed my dome and whispered, “I’m home, Squeaks; for good this time.”

I looked up at her from where my arms were locked around her middle and my head was buried in her chest, “Really,” I whispered.

“Really, really,” she smiled as she wiped away the tears leaking out of my bronze eyes.

Suddenly, my brothers and dad all joined us in a ginormous group hug.

Leo POV

When we all separated for breakfast, I asked, “So, when did you get in, Lowe?”

“04:00,” she answered. “I sparred with Pop until about 05:00. Showered; then came down to start breakfast. It is something that my squad loved, but I just couldn’t hack. These are called ‘Heralds’. They are a biscuit, two sausage patties, 2 fried eggs, hash browns, gravy, and cheese,” she said as she made one for Mikey and one for Raph. Don and I were cool without the gravy. Dad had his somewhat like ours, but with ketchup and his biscuit on the side. Lowe just had a biscuit.

After breakfast, we all went to the dojo for training. I admit, I got a little jealous when she used a move I had never seen before to put Dad on his rear. I had never seen my father go down so fast or with such a huge smile on his face. A part of me worried that she would take over my spot as leader. As soon as she smiled at him, with a look of accomplishment on her face, that feeling faded slightly. I got to see a glimpse of the teenaged girl who beamed with accomplishment and pride at any praise. I missed seeing her in my Marine sister.

As we left training, the timer on her watch went off. Marlowe excused herself to go take her meds. We didn’t think anything of it; if we had only known about the storm that was brewing.

A/N--Same version is on ffn

#tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt splinter #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #tmnt 2016 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2k16 #don't kill me #the hamato chronicles

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