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spenciegoob · 3 years

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Swing to the Stars

this fic swap is for @reidgraygubler ... I really hope you like it, shadow :)

A/N: AAAAH! this is my first fic swap and I’M SO EXCITED!!!!

Summary: Spencer meets someone in his little hiding spot, and desperately hopes to see them again.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral!Reader

Category: fluff with a dash of angst

Content Warnings: mentions of Maeve & William Reid, talk of a case involving teens, mentions of bullying, mentions of guns and pepper spray (not used)

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

___

The first time I climbed that treacherous hill, dirtying my converse for all to see what my night activities truly consisted of, I was alone. I enjoyed it like that, I came here by myself, and I intended to keep it that way. When I sat on the swing dangling by two dangerously flimsy ropes, I thought how ridiculously large the slap of wood used to make it was. My elbows were bent a little over a 90 degree angle just to reach both sides, but I never thought past it. I had other things on my mind that night.

I thought about my mom. I knew she would have loved a secluded, little space like this. She would’ve probably read to me here, using different voices that held deep emotion to convey each story with a precise amount of dedication and love. Each story to her was special, and I silently thank her every day for passing that trait down to me.

Unfortunately, if I thought about my mom, I thought about my dad. William was never a kind man, and I could pride myself on one thing; I would never be like him. He didn’t deserve to know a place like this. It was too serene, too beautiful to house a man so willing to abandon the two people who should’ve been the most important to him. I was glad he would never get the chance to sit on this swing.

I thought about my family. How Garcia would jump with excitement at the prospect of having a picnic overlooking the city, yet quiet and missing the sounds of cars zooming by or overlapping chatter. I thought about JJ, and how Henry would beg her to push him in the swing, because to a little kid, it was perfect. He didn’t look at the frayed rope and fear that it would snap. I hope he never starts to fear the world like that.

The second time I found myself back at the bottom of the hill, I made it halfway to the top before seeing a couple getting up from the swing they were sitting together on. I realized then why it was so comically large; it was meant for two people. Thankfully when I reached the top only half out of breath, the two were starting their descent to where I came from.

This time when I sat down, I thought about Maeve. I would’ve brought her here, shared the little secret corner of the world I built for myself. She would’ve loved something like this, and I know if life wasn’t so cruel, and I was given the chance to show her, we would’ve talked for hours. So that’s what I did that time; I talked to Maeve. To anyone else, I probably looked like a crazy person talking to himself, but much to my delight, not many people made the trip up the hill to find this place.

Now I go whenever I need a break from my mind, which unfortunately is more times than my schedule allows me to take that leisurely walk. I spend my nights sometimes after a particularly hard case there no matter the time, using the ropes that scratch my hands as my lifeline down to Earth. I watch the stars, screaming and cursing at the world in my head and waiting for the sky to respond. It never did, and the next case always came in the following morning.

This particular time that I found myself at the bottom of the grassy hill waiting to be climbed, the case I just returned from involved kids across the board. A teenage unsub was killing his fellow classmates that have wronged him. Unfortunately, the BAU had to witness his stressor recorded for the whole school to see. It involved vile insults being thrown at the young, defenseless boy only for the bullying to escalate to violence.

It was awful.

As I trudged up the hill with less excitement to look into the vast unknown than usual, I couldn’t stop thinking about the unsub. All he wanted in life was a friend, someone to talk to, laugh with, share memories together. No matter how wrong it was, I saw myself in him. Our souls held the same scars given to us by people who had no right to go digging for such a deep part of ourselves. If I didn’t make it, would I have turned out like him?

When I reached the top, completing my journey once again, I saw them. Sitting there, staring out into the sky, mimicking my thoughts to do the same on the jet ride home. I could only make out half their face lit up by the light casting down from the full moon, but I didn’t need to see more to know they were breathtaking.

I would have turned around to return home to nothing more than books reread thousands of times and stale coffee, but I already made the mistake of stepping on a rather large branch that broke in half. The crunch coming from their right immediately had them on edge, and reaching for their bag that I could only assume had some sort of weapon inside. I hope it was legal.

I felt terrible for breaking them from the trance they were in. They were deep in thought about something that was probably going to become a solution if I hadn't interrupted their musing.

“H-hi, I’m sorry to scare you. I didn’t expect anyone here this late. Not that you being here is a problem! I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I frantically shouted, although there was less distance between us than I originally thought, and probably seemed crazed by my volume level.

They just giggled at first, but upon seeing my distraught expression, their face turned more kind than humorous.

“That’s okay. I’m just glad I didn’t jump so fast to pepper spray you. That would definitely be the worst case scenario.” I let out a breath of relief for some reason. Here I was, in front of a total stranger thankful that their weapon of choice wasn’t a gun. I’ve been on the wrong end of too many during my years.

“Did you know Chemical Mace, more commonly known as pepper spray, was invented in the 1960s by a man named Alan Lee Litman and his wife Doris Litman at the time. Their reason was actually because one of Doris’s female coworkers was attacked and robbed, so they thought to create a nonlethal weapon with easy accessibility and use, considering not everyone is able to use a gun. It wasn’t until 1987 however that the Litman’s sold their creation to Smith and Wesson where it was mass produced and later sold to law enforcement.”

“Wow, I don’t think I did.” They laughed again, but something in my heart told me it wasn’t meant to come with malicious intent. “Do you do that a lot?”

“Do what?” I asked, even though I had some inclination of what they were referencing.

“Spout random facts. I’m not complaining, that was very cool, but I am fully intrigued.” They smiled again at me fondly, the kind of smile that left me a little breathless, even more so than the 45 degree incline I had to climb to find myself in front of them. There was nothing to convince me they weren’t authentic in every word they stated.

“I do it quite often, yes. It gets annoying after a while though.” It was true, I was told on many occasions that my rambling got old very fast. I suppose that’s what happens when you’re close to me for too long. I tend to stop being the awe-striking genius, and become the nagging, walking encyclopedia.

“I don’t see how that could become annoying.” It sounded sad coming from them, like I had insulted their oddity. I would never, and I was really hoping to find out what it was.

I had nothing further to say that would express my shock, and slight fondness over their praise, wary of its honesty even if it did come from them. I hadn’t known them for more than 4 minutes and 36 seconds, but it was enough to figure out that they weren’t a liar. It wasn’t from profiling either.

“You know, there is room for two people here if you wanted to join me. I’m sure you didn’t climb that hill for nothing.” They continued for me. If they noticed my surprise, they said nothing about it.

Usually, I would be skeptical of being in a close proximity with a stranger, but as I approached them carefully, even if their hand was no longer reaching for mace, I felt the passing between our eyes. It was as if we had shared every part of ourselves with eye contact, and as crazy as it sounds, I felt the somber thoughts that lingered from their previous reflections.

So I sat down, grabbing onto only one of the scratchy ropes, and enjoying the way I could rest my elbow against my side now that I was using the swing to its fullest potential. I stopped caring about the probability of the ropes snapping under our combined body weight. The worst that could possibly happen was I bruised my tailbone a little bit, but I wouldn’t care past the initial embarrassment. At least I had someone to show that with.

“Do you ever think about what’s out there?” They asked once I was settled on the wood slab as comfortably as I could muster. Being boney didn’t necessarily help. Before I could answer, they continued. “I can tell you’re a man of science, if the fact dump wasn’t any indicator, but I mean beyond the facts, and the known.”

“No, I don’t think about it.” It was a lie, I think about it every time I’m here, but I wanted nothing more in this moment than to know how they saw the stars.

“I do. Quite frequently, actually. I mean, I’ve read every book there ever was about the stars and space, but there is still no answer to my question.”

“What question?” I had to know.

“What’s exactly written in the stars,” they replied, using their hands to showcase the sky above us. I sat back and thought for a while. Like the books they’ve read, I too didn’t have the response to their question. God, how I wish I did.

I don’t know how long we sat there quietly. One of the perks of total darkness in the dead of night is that the moon couldn’t tell time the way the sun did. We got lost in the cosmos together, contemplating sharing our own troubled thoughts with each other. It would have felt right if we did, but alas, the ringing of my cell phone dropped a pin in our reflections.

“I- I’m sorry, I have to take this,” I rushed out before standing up and accepting the incoming call from Penelope. I knew it was a case before her bubbly voice rang through my celular. I allowed the disappointment to bleed through my tone when I told her I would be back at the BAU shortly, hoping that the small release of the emotion would be enough to ward it off in time to turn back around.

It didn’t.

They were already looking at me expectantly when I made my way back to the swing, bending down to retrieve my satchel I had abandoned on the ground. The amount of guilt on my face must have been enough to tell them I had to leave abruptly, despite the fact that the only thing I wanted to do was stay for even just a second.

“That’s okay,” they spoke softly, giving me a tight lipped smile. “We’ll see each other again.”

“How do you know?” I couldn’t help but be skeptical. Life never did work out in my favor. They looked up at the sky once more before answering.

“Just a feeling.” I let a full grin break out at their response, the first one I’ve had when visiting this place. I turned around to start my journey back to the office where dark, and twisted things lurked behind manilla folders. Before starting my descent however, I spun around quickly, almost losing my footing and taking a tumble.

“Woah there tiger, don’t hurt yourself,” they giggled at me, one that I returned with my own breathy laugh.

“I just don’t know your name.” It baffled me a little bit that I hadn’t thought to ask before this, but they just gave me one last smile, tilting their head in faux contemplation.

“Ask me next time.” I will.

***

It’s been a year since I met them, and I haven’t seen them since. Not for a lack of trying however. After that case, I went there every night until a new one arose, this time taking me to Oregon. They hadn’t been back, and part of me wondered if it was because of me. Did I not try hard enough the first time? Should I have ignored my ringer until my phone had 5 missed calls from Penelope?

But then my eidetic memory swooped in to save me from going down that road, one of the only times it wasn’t the cause of my self destructive thoughts. Because while I replayed the conversation over in my head wondering where it went wrong, I remembered their eyes, and their smile.

I remembered what it felt like to sit with them, and thankfully that was enough to convince myself our meeting wasn’t in vain.

I never was the kind of man to believe in the universe. The whole notion that “everything happens for a reason,” felt like a lie created to somehow blame an external force on the chaos in one’s life. There were so many things in my life that had no reason for happening, and to blame that on anything or anyone but myself would be a cheap excuse of a way out.

But for some odd reason, the universe aside, I believed in them, and strangely enough, I don’t think they would have blamed me for the life I had to live. So, as I sit down tonight on this familiar piece of wood, I choose to stare at the stars instead of the ground, and believe that if I spoke aloud, maybe they would hear me.

And they did, because my efforts to sit on one side of the swing in case they returned to me were not in vain. I didn’t look over, I didn’t have to to know it was them. I had already relaxed once their presence was known in my peripherals.

“Y/N,” they spoke, causing me to change my view on the stars to their side profile. It wasn’t all that different than staring at the constellations spread around us. “My name’s Y/N.”

___

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artaefact · 3 years

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say, cheese!

↳ when you meet a charming stranger in the ferris wheel

➳ 1.3k+ words | fluff, photographer!hoseok, s2l au | jung hoseok x f reader | pg-15 | brief mention of infidelity, usage of the finger, swearing

author’s note: this is part of the BGW drabble marathon !! and also thank you mo ( @suhdays ) for beta-reading and hyping me up 🥺💖

prompt: meet-cute (tropes)

You lost count over how long you have been running, trying to lose your boyfriend, no, ex-boyfriend in the crowd. It’s a cowardly move, yeah, but you needed the time to process everything slowly. After all, getting dumped in an amusement park is the last thing you expect to happen.

When you’re sure the prick isn’t hot on your trail anymore, you head to the Ferris wheel, bypassing the waiting line easily before a group of people joins in behind you. You enter a moving carriage quickly and settle on its seat.

Exhaustion settles over you, and you’re about to go on a crying fest when you notice another passenger sits across from you. You blink rapidly, stopping your tears from falling and letting out a sigh instead.

You suppose it’s better than having more people in the carriage. The stranger barely gives you a look as he’s focused on taking photographs of the view outside.

The carriage makes its way to the top, and your glassy gaze remains on the window on your side. Everything looks bright and lively, which contrasts with what you’re feeling right now as your heart weighs heavily inside your chest.

Today is supposed to be your first anniversary with your ex. You were so excited when he planned to go to the amusement park to celebrate today. Until he decided to throw the “it’s not you, it’s me” bomb on you when you damn well knew it has got to do with that chick he’s been texting recently.

After dumping your snow cone and flipping the finger on his face, you ran into the crowd, not once looking back as he called your name.

Your mind engulfs you deep into your own world when the stranger in front of you clears his throat. You blink in confusion. “Yes?”

“The ferris wheel has technical issues. So, we’re stuck for the time being.”

“What?”

“Yeah, and— uh, are you okay, miss?”

“Huh?”

The stranger looks flustered as he points out, “You’re crying...” Your hand instinctively touches your wet cheek then quickly puts an attempt to wipe your tears. “Here,” he says gently, offering you a kleenex. You take it, muttering ‘thanks’ before dabbing it on your face while sniffling.

The chatter of people from below fills the silence in the carriage as you stare out the window, adamant to not meet the stranger’s eyes with your puffy ones.

“Have you tried the cotton candy from the food stall near the castle?” You glance at the stranger, who’s looking out of the window too. “There’s some churros and ice cream if I’m not mistaken. God, now all I can think of is food since I haven’t eaten all day.” He pouts, patting on his stomach.

As if on cue, his stomach rumbles loudly, and he lets out a sheepish chuckle. “Sorry, I didn’t know it’ll be that loud.”

You let out a chuckle. “That’s okay.”

The air feels warmer between the two of you, and he extends a hand to you. “I’m Hoseok, by the way.”

“Y/N…” You reply, taking his hand in yours.

“So, Y/N… Since we’re still stuck here, do you want to see some pictures I’ve taken?” He lifts his camera in emphasis, his smile never leaving his face.

You gape at him for a moment before nodding reluctantly.

“But you have to be honest, okay?” He clarifies as he shows you the first picture. And you let out a bark of laughter. “Shit!” He changed the screen quickly. “I wasn’t supposed to show you that.”

A small smile stays on your lips. “You look good though.”

“I do, huh?” He grins at your reaction. “I always took pictures of people, but never myself. So, I have been trying to take a selfie with my camera.”

“Why don’t you use your phone? Isn’t it easier?”

He shakes his head. “The quality from my camera looks way better than my phone.”

Then Hoseok continues to show you all the other pictures he took. You are amazed at how he can make everything in the amusement park photogenic—all except the failed selfies he took.

“Um, if you want I can take a picture of you here? Since you know, we’re stuck at the top of the ferris wheel, might as well take advantage of it,” you ramble. “But it’s okay if you don’t want to since uh, expensive camera and all its hard to trust strangers—”

“Sure,” he answers quickly, moving to sit right next to you as he loops the strap of the camera on your neck. “It’s easy to use this. Just press this button and—“

You nod at his instructions, focusing on the camera so hard despite his proximity until you can smell his musky, fresh scent. Hoseok then moves back to his original seat, leaning closer to the window. You adjust the angle of the camera and count down from three. “Say ‘cheese’!”

Hoseok giggles and repeats it. “Cheese!”

After the shutters close with a click, he sits beside you excitedly as you hand him his camera. “Wow! For a beginner, you sure do know your angles.”

“Thanks,” you chuckle, standing up to move across from him. Not a moment later, the carriage starts to move again, causing you to yelp as you stagger back.

“Whoa! Be careful, Y/N!” Instead of finding yourself on the seat again, you find yourself on Hoseok’s lap. One arm holding his camera and the other wrapping around your waist, keeping you steady.

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” You move quickly to the seat across.

“It’s okay,” he laughs at your flustered state. “Glad you didn’t hurt yourself, though.”

The carriage arrives at the bottom quickly, and you find yourself disappointed in having to bid Hoseok farewell. You never expect to be comfortable with someone new so fast. But his presence manages to cheer you up after what happened between you and your ex.

Stepping out of the carriage, you make a beeline to the exit gate with Hoseok following suit. You turn to him, giving him a genuine smile.” So, I guess this is where we say goodbye?”

For a moment, Hoseok stares at you in wonder. Your sentence seems to register inside his head quite late as he flounders, “Oh! Uh… It doesn’t have to be.” He scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I mean, we can still go to the food stall together if you’d like? Or is that too creepy with someone you just met? I—”

“Okay,” you agree.” I’ll go with you to grab something to eat.”

And you swear his chocolate eyes brighten up instantly,” Great—! I mean, cool, okay, I’ll uh, show you where the cotton candies are—” He blabbers as you watch him in amusement. “And the ice cream! They say sweets make pretty girls smile!” He realises what he said before he shakes his palms rapidly. “I’m not talking about you, not that you aren’t pretty. In fact, you’re beautiful especially when you smile. Shit, I don’t mean to sound creepy! I swear I’m not; I’m just a freelance photographer!”

You giggle at his ramblings. “I get what you mean, Hoseok.”

He barely can look at you afterwards, eyes glancing everywhere but you. By the time you reach the food stalls, his face is burning. You chortle at his cute reaction.

After spending time with him in the Ferris wheel, somehow, the heavyweight in your heart gradually lightens. Yes, you still can feel the ache inside, but Hoseok seems to know how to ease them with his antics. And you know he purposely showed you his bad selfie, which is merely taken in a weird angle because selfies with that face can never go wrong.

So, as you’re waiting for the ice cream, you nudge him gently, earning his attention. He holds your stare even when his eyes are shaking, and you smile at him. “Thank you, Hoseok. I really needed this.”

He grins back. “Anything to make you smile.”

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13uswntimagines · 4 years

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I Should Sleep With You More Often (Sam x Reader)

Sequel to Works Like a Charm where Sam and Reader finally get together. It’s a very fluffy piece, with a little bit of late night breakfast making and a surprise kiss.

special thanks to @literaryhedgehog cause this wouldn’t have happened without her.

Hello?”

“Hey, I can’t sleep.” Sam’s voice comes over the phone, getting straight to the point with frustration.

“And you’re calling me about it? At 3 am. I could have been asleep you know.” You huff into the phone, pinning it between your chin and your shoulder.

“Were you?” She asks, and you can almost see her eyebrow quirking up.

You look down at the frying pan where you were about to pour your egg-cheese scramble. “No. But still.”

“Don’t worry, I appreciate the irony of the situation,” she says, with an attempt at humor. “can I come over?”

“Sure. You can split my omelet.” You hum, your tongue poking out as you make sure the entire omelet landed on the plate instead of the floor.

“Omelette?” Sam asked, sounding amused. “I thought you weren’t supposed to --”

“Eat anything after 9 pm I know, I know. But I woke up and was hungry, and couldn’t just ignore it to fall back asleep for two hours. I had to eat something or I was going to get nauseous.” You interrupted her, waving your hand dismissively.

“What?” Sam asked entirely confused.

“You know that feeling, where you’re like, so hungry that you get kind of nauseous?” You tried to explain again.

“No…” She trailed off.

“Oh, well it’s the worst. I like to try to eat something before it gets too bad because otherwise, the food won’t do anything. Anyway, I made enough you can have half of it, just let me know when you get here so I can send down the elevator for you.” You said, whipping your hands off and walking towards the door.

“I’m actually just parking,” Sam’s voice came sheepishly over the phone. In the background, you heard the unmistakable sound of her car being locked. She always insisted on clicking the lock button twice so it would beep, like she didn’t trust it to lock the first time.

You shook your head and left your apartment to buzz her into the building. “You’re telling me that at 3 am, before even checking to see if I was awake, you just decided to come to my apartment because you couldn’t sleep?”

“Yes?”

“You’re insane,” you said, hanging up the phone as the elevator door opened to reveal her tall frame.

She ruffled the hair at the back of her neck, grinning. “I knew you would be awake?”

“Bullshit.” You led the way back to your apartment and grabbed two plates from the cabinet. “You want soy milk?”

“What?”

“Soy milk. I’ve got vanilla or dark chocolate.” For some reason, soy milk helped reduce the insomnia nausea more than anything else most days. Still, the omelet smelled amazing.

“Um sure, vanilla please.” She shrugged, and you rolled your eyes. Vanilla was for the weak.

You pulled out both cartons and two glasses, before cutting the omelet in half and handing her a fork.

“Don’t I get my own plate?” Sam whined, cutting off a piece of the Omelet and popping it into her mouth.

“People who come barging into my apartment at 3 AM have to share with the host. Unless you wanna do dishes?” You raised your eyebrow at her, pointing your fork in her direction, smirking when she emphatically shook her head no.

She quickly changed the subject, avoiding your eyes as she ate. “So how are you liking your apartment, it’s new right?”

“Yeah, I moved in four months ago, you know when I suddenly got traded to North Carolina,” you said, a very bitter edge in your voice. How Mark could let you leave the thorns you would never know, but at least Hinkle was retiring.

You took another bite “So why couldn’t you sleep? At camp, you’re usually snoring like a freight train by now.”

Sam paused mid-bite, fork in the air. She looked like she was debating how to answer then, stuffed her last piece of omelet in her mouth. “I donb snowe.”

“You totally do. Rose even sent me the video evidence if you wanna see it,” you smirked, standing to go get your phone.

“No!” Sam jumped up and you sprinted across the kitchen to get out of her reach, grinning. “You really don’t have to do that, it’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, but I really don’t mind,” you taunted, starting for your phone before Sam tackled you. Well, it wasn’t a tackle so much as a grab, but she had a good foot and a half on you, so same difference really.

“Put me down. This is highly unnecessary,” you sputtered, laughing from Sam’s shoulder. “I’m not supposed to exercise within an hour of bed. My therapist would be unhappy with so much activity.”

“Yeah cause eating an Omelette at 3 am is totally something she would approve,” Sam rolled her eyes, as she tossed you onto your couch.

“Lies and slander. I won’t get the alleged snoring video, but seriously. Why are you here?”

Sam sighs, and slouches onto the couch next to you, dropping her head into your lap. You smile down at her, liking this new angle. While you certainly didn’t mind being the baby of the team, it was kind of nice to do the petting for once.

“I don’t know,” Sam said, furrowing her eyebrows.

“You were never a good liar. It’s why everyone catches you when you try to pull pranks. I hear it helps if you talk about it,” You murmured, using your thumb to smooth out the crease that formed between her eyes.

“Fine, I couldn’t sleep because I kept having nightmares. It felt like, I was tossing and turning for hours, and then every time I dozed off, my brain came up with these fucked up images. Like, silence of the lambs shit. I could sell some horror film director the plotlines and make bank, I’m telling you. And since Rose and Wilma moved out, my place has felt so empty. It felt like, the panic attacks I used to have before games. When I had to always bring a bag with me to hyperventilate into before I could get my mind on the game.”

You frowned. “I don’t remember that.”

“Once you became my bus buddy I didn’t have that problem. You got me out of my own head with fun word games and stupid jokes. Remember that time you gave me the sentence ‘The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog?’ You kept grinning telling me to stop stressing out, it would be alright, to just guess a letter.”

“Because whatever you guessed would be right.” You hum smiling down at her.

“You couldn’t take that shit-eating grin off your face, you jerk, but like, it helped me stop second-guessing myself. Sitting on the bus with you, I’ve never felt more calm going into a season. And so I just thought. It’s dumb but I hoped coming here would help.” She shrugged.

“It’s not dumb Sammy. You help me sleep too. Why do you think all the vets insist I sit with you?” You said softly, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“Because you used to fall asleep literally everywhere and they hoped I could get across the aisle and catch you before you hit your head?” She giggled and you snapped her shoulder lightly.

“Wow. Thanks.” You said in a monotone, “Or maybe it’s ‘cause you’re my favorite teddy bear.”

“If anyone is the teddy it’s you. You’re like half my size,” She giggled.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you muttered, playfully pushing her head off your lap. “Come on you giant.”

“Where are you going?” She asked, allowing you to pull her to her feet.

“To go grab you a toothbrush and a fresh pillowcase for the bed.” You said, your tugging getting a little more insistent. You really wanted to get to sleep tonight. You had been so good lately (ignoring the random omelet you cooked tonight).

“Oh, um. I was hoping we could just watch television on your couch and I would fall asleep,” Sam rambled, eyes wide. “I mean, not that I mind, but I didn’t want to like, invade on your--”

“Just come up to my room. It’s no big deal, it’s large enough for both of us, and I honestly don’t think that couch is even big enough to fit you. Besides, maybe it will help you sleep to be on a mattress actually purchased in this century.”

“Hey, I like my mattress!” She grumbled indignantly, crossing her arms.

“You flip it twice a month because it keeps forming an indention where you’ve slept!” You said exasperated. That sleepover had been a terrible idea and you stood by that. At least your bed didn’t spit out feathers when you turned over too fast.

“Well, I. um. No comment.” you hear her say as you go to take your turn in the bathroom.

When Sam gets back from brushing her teeth you’ve done everything except turn out the lights. You look up from your side of the bed as she pauses in the doorway.

“Is this… Welcome to Night Vale?”

“It helps me ignore my thoughts. Can you get the lights please?��

You had to replay the podcast the next day after Sam left. You couldn’t remember anything after “Wednesday has been canceled due to a scheduling error” because within moments you were asleep.

*****

You thought that sleeping with Sam was only supposed to be a one-night thing, but it wasn’t. One night turned into two, which turned into the two of you usually crashing at each other's places.

If you were being honest, it was the best sleep you had ever gotten. It was nice to have someone there to hold onto, to protect you from the bad dreams. The problem was that your feelings were edging past the line of friendship, and you had no idea what to do about it.

It started with a team party you both went to, where Sam offered to be the designated driver. After she dropped everyone else off, you told her she might as well stay the night at your place since it was already so late and she did. And you both slept great. And then you had your usual Saturday spa night the next night, and you were several shots in and it wouldn’t have been responsible to drive home. And you both slept a solid seven hours.

Not that Sam was a magical cure to your insomnia. You still had nights where your brain was like a train running off the rails, unstoppable no matter how hard you tried. Yet, having her there helped. She made sure blue lights went off when they were supposed to, and your late-night breakfast-making was kept to a minimum. AND after the first few nights, you realized that she was amusingly clingy in her sleep. Which meant that occasionally if you woke up and tried to get out of bed, she would sleepily grab you and hold you in place murmuring about whatever was happening in her dream. Since you couldn’t get up you had to just lay there, which normally might have been boring, but with her was amusing as you listened to her rambling state of consciousness.

You sighed, staring up at the ceiling. You really needed to get your shit together and just ask her out. But what if she said no, and you lost your cuddle buddy? That would suck royally, and if you lost your bus seat it might completely curse the USWNT.

“Alright, I can practically feel the steam coming out of your ears, spill,” Sam groaned, rolling over and throwing an arm around your waist.

“Isn’t it weird?”

“What?”

“Time. Like someone decided that seconds were a thing and a certain number of seconds equaled a minute and there were a certain number of minutes in a day. Like someone just decided it was a thing, and everyone went along with it and now we all have to plan our lives around this arbitrary system. I wonder if that asshole realized that people would use it to put kids in detention and force them to cram so they could regurgitate facts in a specified amount of his made-up system. And like the Romans made a Calendar and the Mayans did one too…” Your rambling was cut off by Sams’s soft lips touching your own in a quick peck before she collapsed back into the pillow. “Just blame capitalism babe.”

You stared at her for a minute, shocked, before she bolted upright. “SHIT. Sorry, I just. I forgot to ask for consent. I just forgot--”

“I consent, yes, more of this please,” you said, leaning over to kiss her again. Your hands cupped her cheeks and her fingers tangled into the baby hairs at the back of your neck.

After a few minutes, Sam broke off the kiss, both of you breathing heavily. “Um, wow. You know, I’m not sure this is helping you get to sleep, love.”

You smirk, biting your lip and straddling her hips before you lean in to kiss her again, slowly. “You’re the one who said you needed to sleep with me more often.”

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #sam mewis imagine #sam mewis x reader #literalhedgehog

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carryonmywaywardcaptain · 4 years

Text

Imagine...finding out there’s fanfic written about you--and even Charlie ships you with Dean

CarryOnCap’s Masterlist

Warnings: Fluff? Crack? A dramatic fanfic within a fanfic that I got carried away with haha.

A/N: This is kind of ridiculous, but I had fun with it! Also, I’ve never actually seen GoT but it seemed like a reasonable reference from what I’ve heard about it.

“Hey, look who I found!” Sam’s voice echoed through the War Room.

Dean glanced at you from across the table in the library, sharing your surprised expression as you both pushed your chairs away and stood.

“‘Sup, bitches?” Charlie grinned, making her way up the steps toward you.

“Hey! We were expecting you guys to come in through the main door. We’ve been keeping an ear out.”

Charlie stepped into your outstretched arms and pulled you into a tight hug. “It was a spur of the moment decision, but I decided to stick around a day or two longer than planned! Sam said I could go ahead and park in the garage.”

She let go of you and turned to give Dean a hug too. He smiled softly with a look that was uniquely reserved for her, cradling the back of her head while she pressed her cheek against his.

“Good to see you, Charlie. You know you’re always welcome to stay as long as you want.”

An involuntary smile crept onto your face as you watched them. You couldn’t help the way your heart swelled at the low rumble in his voice when he said her name. There was an undeniable protectiveness in his tone when he spoke to her--the sister he’d never wanted, as he affectionately called her.

When you shifted your attention to her, you noticed she was watching you. Before you could decipher the knowing glint in her eye, she suddenly twisted out of his arms and glanced back and forth between you and Dean. She began swinging her arms awkwardly before opting to cross them over her chest.

“You okay?” Dean asked, furrowing his brow.

“Yeah! Of course...Totes chill...cooler than a pack of peppermints.” She bobbed her head and flashed a nervous smile, twisting her hair around her finger as she struggled to act nonchalant. “It’s just that I remembered something. A story I read a while back--completely random. Totally unrelated to anything--I mean, now I’m starting to ramble. Hah! So how’ve you guys been? Still saving the world from evil sons-of-bitches?”

“Uh, yeah…” Sam answered, scrunching his eyebrows together. “We stay busy.”

“So what’s on the agenda tonight?” you piped up, changing the subject.

You were hoping to avoid swapping monster stories for a night. Charlie typically assumed the role of introducing you to popular and noteworthy fandoms during her visits to the bunker and, even if the boys weren’t as vocal, the three of you appreciated her knowledge of all things geeky and nerdy.

“I was thinking Marvel. Y/N, you’re obviously well-versed in the MCU because of your obsession with Steve Rogers--and, you know, clearly you’ve got a thing for the strong, righteous, self-sacrificing hero type. Dean, you could stand to branch out from the Batman references and, Sam, you’ve got this whole Thor kind of vibe going on.”

While Sam and Dean began teasing each other and arguing over “Batman versus Thor,” you gaped at Charlie, wondering what she’d meant by her remark about you having a “type.” You couldn’t help feeling like she was trying to insinuate something, but you shrugged it off and decided maybe it was all in your head.

***

After getting Charlie settled into one of the extra bedrooms, the four of you settled into the Dean Cave and agreed to start with the first Captain America movie.

Last Christmas, you and Sam had teamed up to surprise Dean with a couch for the Dean Cave. He had originally only had two La-Z-boy recliners and you’d found him fast asleep in the stiff old chairs on more than one occasion. Dean had been over the moon about the extra seating and the three of you had rearranged the furniture so the recliners were angled toward the tv on either side of the couch.

“Dibs on this side of the couch!” Charlie said, diving toward the furthest end from the door.

Although it was subtle, you knew there was still something off about the way Charlie studied all of you. There was definitely something on her mind she was trying to keep hidden from all of you.

“You know, we should probably have some snacks,” you said slowly. “Charlie, you want to come help me grab some stuff from the kitchen?”

“But I’m already comfy in my spot.” She frowned, wiggling her hips to make a point of sinking deeper into the spot she’d claimed on the couch. “Why don’t you have Dean help you?”

When you narrowed your eyes suspiciously, Sam cleared his throat. “Dean, why don’t I help you grab some snacks while Y/N and Charlie...catch up, er, whatever…”

You heard the boys leave the room and waited until their footsteps faded down the hall before you started interrogating her.

“Alright, Charlie--what the hell is going on with you?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” she muttered, scrolling through her phone.

“Bull. We lie for a living and I know there’s something you’re not telling us. So spill.”

“Fine,” she sighed. “Okay, so remember the Supernatural books by Carver Edlund?”

“Yeah…”

“The series obviously kind of had a cult following when it was in print, right? Well ever since the unpublished works got uploaded, the following has really taken off. Every once in a while a new one still pops up and the fans love them. And you’re in them now too!”

“I’m...what?”

“I mean it’s just insane and totally got sucked into it too. It’s brought on this whole new wave of fanfiction--”

“What’s fanfiction?” you cut in, struggling to keep up.

“It’s fiction made by the fans about the series. Sometimes they put themselves in the stories and write about working cases and fighting monsters with you guys--”

“Why would anyone want to pretend to do this crap with their lives?”

She stared at you for a moment and frowned. “Because you guys are heroes. I mean, yeah, there’s the whole depressing side of monsters and death and trauma and world-ending apocalypses--but you guys save people. You go on these exciting adventures of good versus evil and a lot of times you win. You save people. The fans really look up to all of you.”

Your gaze fell to the floor as you let her words sink in, but she didn’t give you long before she was rambling again.

“But that’s not even the best part! Everyone ships different OTPs--” she paused, noticing your puzzled expression “--uh, one true pairing… So everyone has a favorite couple they think are soulmates and belong together. There’s stories about Sam with Eileen or Jess, Dean with different people--you get the gist. Sometimes they even make up characters or do these ‘reader inserts’ and imagine themselves with the boys or you but, hands down, everyone’s favorite couple they want to end up together is you and Dean.”

“...what?”

Your eyes grew wide. It was hard enough to wrap your mind around the fact that strangers who didn’t know you were a real person were reading about your life, but learning they imagined you in different relationships? You’d never admit it out loud, but had it bad for Dean. And hearing you weren’t the only one that wanted the two of you together...

“I’ve gone deep into the fic and I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner!” Charlie shook you from your thoughts. “You and Dean are perfect for each other. For serious. I usually stick to the fluffy stuff because, you know, your entire life is kind of angsty and I don’t like to read about you guys being in pain or, like, dying...again. Although I definitely have to admit I kind of stumbled into some of the smutty stuff and, wow, that was something else.”

You opened your mouth to ask more questions, but she kept rolling.

“Right, you probably don’t know what that means either. Fluff is the cute stuff that gives us all feels, angst is kind of just what it sounds like, and smut is, well...the sexy stuff.”

“You mean people out there in the world write about me and Dean…”

“Going at it like an episode of Game of Thrones? Oh yeah,” she responded, unlocking her phone. “Here. Here’s an example.”

Swallowing audibly, you took a seat next to her on the couch as she extended her phone toward you. Gnawing your bottom lip, you began reading the words on the screen:

Y/N took a deep breath, holding it in briefly before she exhaled and began walking toward Dean’s room. Ever since they returned from the hunt, Dean had hidden himself away in his room--no doubt blaming himself for everything that had gone wrong.

When she arrived at his door, she raised her hand to knock. She hesitated, almost retreating at the thought of him turning her away, but she had to try. She had to get through to him somehow.

She rapped her knuckles on the raw umber barrier and opened the door of Room 11 before he could tell her to go away.

She spotted him leaning over the sink, staring at his reflection in the medicine cabinet on the wall. His jade eyes flickered to where she stood in the doorway, their reflection somewhat distorted by cracks that spiderwebbed from where he had struck the mirror.

Her heart seemed to drop into her stomach as she imagined him lashing out, knowing he punched the mirror because he hated the reflection staring back at him. Knowing he always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders when he didn’t need to.

Y/N carefully shut the door and locked it behind her--the click of the deadbolt deafening in the silence. Her eyes never left Dean, who refused to turn and face her. She inched toward him, closing the distance until she could reach out and touch him. Gently placing her hand on his shoulder, she guided him to turn away from the mirror. Still, he refused to meet her eyes.

“Dean…” she breathed, voice barely above a whisper as she cupped his face in her hands. “It’s not your fault.”

He squeezed his eyes closed, face contorting with grief and guilt. The ghosts of his past refused to let him go, but she was determined to make him believe that he was worthy, no matter the cost.

Curling a finger beneath his chin, she tilted his head up, waiting patiently for him to meet her gaze. When his dark green orbs finally met hers, she was surprised to see that they were full of longing and desire. They flickered to her lips, making her breath tremble under the intensity of his gaze. Time seemed to slow until it froze altogether.

Anticipation hung heavy in the air as they both struggled against their desire to maintain the friendship they’d always had and the desperate need to finally cross that line. To succumb to the magnetic pull that had always been evident between the two of them.

Dean swallowed thickly before suddenly rushing forward, crashing his lips to Y/N’s as he pulled her into a searing kiss. He wrapped his strong arms around her, trapping her to his chest, afraid it was all a dream and she would soon disappear. But she gladly melted into his embrace, feeling like she was finally returning home, to a place she’d spent her life searching for.

A moan slipped past her lips as he walked her backward, pressing her up against the wall. She gasped, feeling his--

“The snacks have arrived!”

You jumped in surprise, a small gasp of surprise escaping as the boys appeared with armloads of snacks. Confusion and worry painted Dean’s face as he surveyed your flustered expression. Between his scrutinizing gaze and the content you’d practically been caught reading, your cheeks grew warm.

“Did I miss something?” Dean asked.

“Nope,” you responded much too quickly.

Charlie’s phone had fallen into your lap and, when she began cackling, you whipped your head in her direction and flung the phone at her thigh. You grimaced and the two of you had your own silent conversation as the boys spread the food across the bar Dean had built on the far wall.

“I was just telling Y/N how pumped I am about seeing my favorite OTP tonight,” she giggled.

“Your...what?”

Dean’s arm brushed yours as he plopped down on the other side of you. The accidental contact sent a wave of chills over your skin, making you shudder. You could feel his eyes on you again, but you refused to look at him.

“Oh, I’m so going down with this ship,” Charlie whispered under her breath before continuing in a louder voice. “Nothing--nevermind! Don’t mind me, just thinking out loud...”

“It says here an OTP means...one true pairing?” Your eyes grew wide as you looked to where Sam was reading his phone from where he sat in one of the recliners. “So, uh, ‘in the fandom realm, OTP refers to the coupling of characters--usually from the sci-fi or fantasy genres--by fans who think they make a great romantic duo and envision their lives together and share their imaginings with other fans.’”*

Charlie doubled over, beside herself with laughter. With your lips pressed into a firm line, you glanced at the boys to gauge their reactions. You knew there was no way they could possibly know what you and Charlie had been talking about, but that didn’t stop you from worrying about what Dean might think if he ever found out about the feelings you harbored for him.

“So...you’re looking forward to Cap and his girl in the movie? I’m so freaking confused,” Dean grumbled.

“Yeah…” Sam agreed, making his way to the tv. “I’m just, uh...I’m gonna start the movie now.”

“Good idea.” Charlie peered at you out of the corner of her eye. “Plenty of time to read and talk about all those ships later.”

Although you glared at her, trying to hide your amusement, nothing could deter the smug smile etched upon her face. As Sam turned the lights off and you settled in for another relaxing night with your favorite people, one thing was certain:

You were definitely going to have to take another look at that fanfiction.

CarryOnCap Crew (Forevers):

@abswritesfandoms @amanda-teaches @cosicas-cuquis @crist1216 @droidyouseek @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @flawless-disaster @janeyboo @jenn0755 @ksgeekgirl @maresmiley @memyselfandmaddox @notyourtypicalrose @randomparanoid @rynabarnesrogers @sandlee44 @scarletsoldierrr @shann-the-artist-moon @sheerioasteroidpanda @shynara51 @someday-when-you-leave-me @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @thisismysecrethappyplace @torntaltos @waywardbaby @waywardrose13 @weebid @whimsicalrobots @wintersoldierbaby @wintersoldierissucharide @yesfanficsaremylife

Cap’s SPN Crew:

@adoptdontshoppets @akshi8278 @alexwinchester23 @chevyharvelle @deangirl7695 @dean-winchesters-bacon @fandomoniumflurry @pisces-cutie @supernaturalenchanted @superromijn @waywardnerd67 @x-waywardaf-x

#supernatural imagine #spn imagine #dean winchester imagine #supernatural reader insert #spn reader insert #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #supernatural fluff #dean x read #dean x y/n

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elspethc22 · 3 years

Text

Let's Talk

Sciles Week Day 6: Talks we should have had

Pairing: Scott/Stiles

Word Count: 2621

The school year had finally ended, and Scott was more relieved to done with school than he ever had been before. He’d had nearly three months of freedom and the only thing on his to do list (other than work and whatever chores his mum asked him to do) was spending time with Stiles.

So that’s what he was doing – heading over to Stiles’ house to, most likely, wake his best friend up. For Stiles, summer meant sleeping in and doing absolutely nothing when he didn’t have to, which is exactly what he’d spent at least sixty percent of his summer doing. And since he knew Stiles wasn’t ‘helping out’ at the station today (also known as monitoring his dad’s eating habits up close, filing reports and trying to sneak looks at case files) chances were he would still be in bed even though it was nearly noon.

After knocking and getting no answer, Scott let himself in with the key Stiles had had made for him (he’d thought it only fair since he had one for the McCall house). Heading up the stairs, Scott made his way to Stiles’ bedroom, opening the door and walking right in.

‘Stiles. Stiles, dude. Wake up.’ Stiles stirred once, then stopped, still deep in sleep. Scott looked at him considering, then kicked off his shoes and pounced.

He landed right on Stiles, who shot up, eyes opening wide.

‘What – Scott? What the hell? Dude, what was that for? I was sleeping!’ Stiles asked, still looking around wildly, as if expecting an attack. When he found none, he flopped backwards, throwing an arm over his face. His face which was half-covered in lines from where it had been pressed into his pillow in his sleep.

‘Stiles, dude it’s already noon. We only have like two weeks left of summer, so come on, get up.’ Scott grabbed Stiles’ arm and dragged it off his face, giving him a little shove.

‘Do I have to?’ Stiles whined, and Scott laughed.

‘Yep. Unless you’d prefer… ’ Scott trailed off but lifted his hand to move his fingers against Stiles’ side, making him squirm.

‘No.’ Stiles protested, moving away.

‘Well those are you options – get up, and please shower, or I do it again.’ He wiggled his fingers threateningly, and Stiles lifted his head to glare at him.

‘I hate you.’ He said, sitting up again, keeping his eyes on Scott’s hand. He was the only person besides his dad who knew Stiles was ticklish, and unfortunately he wasn’t afraid to exploit that knowledge when he wanted to get his way.

‘You know you love me.’ Scott said, laughing and Scott thought he saw Stiles blush before he turned his head away, climbing over Scott and out of his bed.

‘Whatever. Give me ten minutes to shower.’ Scott watched Stiles head out of his room for the bathroom, and relaxed back on Stiles’ bed to wait. While he waited, he thought about Stiles reaction to his words. Why would Stiles blush from Scott telling saying Stiles loved him?

He tried to think of a reason, but while he thought, all that came to mind was a conversation with Stiles a few months ago. ‘This new-found heroism is making me very attracted to you.’ Then another conversation before that. ‘Am I not attractive to gay guys?’

He was deep in thought when Stiles came back in to his room, towel sitting low on his hips as he moved to his closet to find some clean clothes. The movement caught Scott’s attention and he propped himself up on his elbows, and found himself staring at Stiles’ back as Stiles’ words kept echoing in his mind.

‘Scott? Yo, Scotty!’ Stiles turned to look at him, letting the towel drop to the floor as he’d pulled a clean pair of boxers on underneath it, and was even now stepping into some clean sweats. Suddenly Stiles was clicking his fingers in Scott’s face and Scott blinked, leaning back.

‘What?’ He asked, blinking at Stiles who rolled his eyes.

‘Where’d you go man? I was asking you what you want to do today? Movie? Video games? More lacrosse practice?’

‘Oh, uh, I don’t know. Whatever you want.’ Stiles pulled a t-shirt over his head, narrowing his eyes at Scott as his head popped through. ‘What?’

‘Ok, what’s going on? First you were came in here, woke me up, all raring to go do something and now you’re spacing out on me and don’t care what we do? Seriously, what’s up?’

‘Do you like guys?’ Scott blurted out, then snapped his mouth shut, his eyes widening in surprise at his own words, wishing he could take them back. Stiles just stared at him, frozen in place. For nearly a minute, neither of them moved, processing the question that had just come out of Scott.

‘Um – ’

‘Oh my god, dude, forget I asked that. That was so not cool. I don’t even know – ’

‘Yes.’ Scott stopped his rambling apology, looking up at Stiles who was still standing in front of him.

‘Yes?’ Scott asked, and Stiles looked away, took a deep breath and then turned back, nodding.

‘Yes, I like guys. I mean, I still like girls, I wasn’t lying about that or anything, but… I like guys too.’ Stiles told Scott, his voice soft.

‘Wow.’ Scott could kick himself for only being able to come up with that, but his brain was apparently a little slow on the uptake in this conversation.

‘Yeah. Wow. Um… what made you ask that?’ Stiles asked, and Scott looked at him.

‘First – I’m so sorry I just like, asked you that like that, that really wasn’t cool of me. I was just… you blushed, earlier, when I said you know you love me and then that made me think, about why that would make you blush and then I remembered when you were asking me if you’re attractive to gay guys and then saying that my new heroism or whatever was making you attracted to me and we should make out and I was starting to think that maybe you weren’t joking and then I just… blurted the question out.’

Scott placed his hands in his lap, watching Stiles for a reaction as he explained his train of thought. Stiles stared at him for a moment, then sighed, running his hand through his newly grown out hair. Then he moved, sitting on the end of his bed, facing Scott.

‘It’s ok Scotty. I’m not upset you asked, I know you weren’t trying to be like… it just caught me off guard I guess. I wasn’t expecting it.’ Scott nodded, and was thankful his best friend wasn’t angry at him.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ He asked, his voice soft, and Stiles looked at him and shrugged.

‘I don’t know. It was never really like a plan to not tell you, I just… I was waiting for the right time and then, everything went crazy and I just… didn’t.’ Stiles told him, and Scott nodded even though he wished Stiles had felt he could tell him.

‘You know it doesn’t change anything, right? I mean, like, I don’t care one way or another.’ Scott tried to explain himself, trying to convey that he didn’t care who Stiles liked, they were still best friends, and Stiles just laughed.

‘I never thought it would, Scott. I know you, you’re like, the best person I know, you’d never care if I liked guys.’ Stiles told him, and Scott smiled, but there was still something nagging at him.

‘Do you… do you like me?’ Scott asked, then bit his lip when Stiles’ head shot up to look at him, eyes wide, mouth open in surprise.

‘I – I mean – of course I like you, dude, best friend forever, right?’ Stiles said, trying to bluff his way out of an answer by pretending to misunderstand the question and Scott knew.

‘I mean do you like me, Stiles.’ He repeated, changing his emphasis, moving a hand to Stiles’ wrist to keep him from standing and moving away. Stiles blinked once, twice, then looked down at Scott’s hand. When he looked back up, Scott’s heart hurt when he saw sadness in Stiles’ eyes.

‘Yes.’ Stiles breathed out. ‘I’m sorry, Scott, I – ’

Scott cut Stiles off by leaning forward and pressing his lips to Stiles’. Stiles let out a sound of surprise, but when Scott brought a hand up to cup the back of his head, tilted his own head to change the angle and make it easier, Stiles let his eyes shut and let himself sink into the kiss and enjoy it.

When Scott pulled back slowly, he let his hand slip down to settle at the base of Stiles’ neck, his thumb moving gently back and forth over Stiles’ skin just about his t-shirt.

‘Why did you do that?’ Stiles asked in a whisper. Scott took a moment before he answered, not wanting to say the wrong thing. He wasn’t completely sure why he’d done that – he couldn’t lie and say he’d wanted to do it for a while, it hadn’t occurred to him to try before today. But as soon as he’d thought about it, it was all he could think about.

‘Because I love you. And I have to be honest, I don’t know if I feel about you exactly how you feel about me, and I haven’t really thought about it before but I thought about kissing you and I just – I couldn’t notdo it.’ Scott said, hoping Stiles could make sense of his words. When Stiles didn’t say anything, he started to panic, thinking he’d just ruined things.

‘What about Allison?’ Scott was shocked that that was Stiles said next, but then he realised it made sense. This was completely out of the blue, and the last time they’d spoken about anything Scott had told him he was going to wait for her then get her back.

‘Honestly? When she broke up with me, it hurt, a lot. And I wanted to speak to her every day, try to change her mind, especially for the first few weeks. But recently?’ Scott paused, shrugged as he tried to explain it. ‘It still sucks, but now it more about how it all ended then the fact that it ended. Thinking about her, it doesn’t really hurt now, and I don’t think about her that much, not like I did right after we broke up or at the start of summer. I haven’t wanted to call her in weeks.’

Stiles was watching him closely, as if trying to pick out any lies. Scott just sat patiently, waiting for Stiles to react.

‘And what about me? I mean, you know I like you, I’m pretty sure I love you, and you just kissed me. Was it, like, a test?’

‘No, Stiles. I wouldn’t do that, especially not to you. I meant what I said, when I started thinking about it, it was like I hadto do it. And… I’m really glad I did. It was amazing. It felt like… it felt right.’

‘So you think you like guys too?’ Stiles questioned, and Scott shrugged.

‘I don’t know. It’s not really about you being a guy, it’s more about you being Stiles. Does that make sense?’ Stiles gave a small nod.

‘Kind of, I guess.’ Scott could tell Stiles didn’t really get it.

‘I mean, I know we’ve talked about girls we find attractive before, but I don’t… it usually takes me a while to really be attractedto someone. Usually, I really have to know and like someone before I feel like I want to do anything… physical. I think that’s why the idea of kissing you took so easily. Like, I know you’re an attractive person, but I never really thought about you or us in that way before, but then when I did…’ He tried to explain, knowing he sounded awkward. He’d never tried to put it into words before.

‘But what about Allison? You were like, zero to sixty with her.’ Stiles said, and Scott nodded his understanding. That had been a big surprise to him, and he’d been thinking about it a lot since they broke up.

‘I think that had more to do with the wolf. It was really weird because like, I’ve never had that instant attraction to anyone before so I didn’t recognise it at first, and then at first I thought it was cause I’d never met the right person. But I kept having these feelings like I was fighting with myself – there were times where all I wanted to do was touch her and kiss her but then I’d stop and think well, let’s just get to know her first. And obviously, then I did get to know her, and… but I think those first few weeks was not all me.’

Stiles looked at him, cocked his head.

‘So you’re saying the wolf had the hots for Allison first?’ He asked, and Scott rolled his eyes but nodded. ‘Ok. Ok, that sort of makes sense. It’s a little weird, but then, what isn’t in our lives nowadays?’

Scott laughed in agreement, and Stiles smiled.

‘What does this mean then? For us?’ Stiles asked, and Scott smiled.

‘It means… I think, I want to try this. If you do.’ Scott told him, and he could hear the hope in his voice.

‘What if it doesn’t work?’ Stiles asked, and Scott heard, and understood, the fear.

‘What if it does?’ Scott countered, and Stiles smiled fondly at the typical optimism. ‘I think we need to promise each other, if we decide to do this, that our friendship comes first. If anything goes wrong or it just doesn’t work, we can take some time, but we’re always friends.’

‘Do you think that can work?’ Stiles asked.

‘I think we’re Scott and Stiles – ask anyone, if we decide we want to do something, we’ll do it no matter how many people tell us not to, or that we can’t.’ Stiles rolled his eyes at the reminder of the many, many times they’d been told their ideas were crazy or impossible or just plain not allowed (or illegal). But it was true – anything that they’d really want to do, they’d found a way and they’d done it. And then when necessary (at least fifty percent of the time) they’d found a way back out of whatever situation they ended up in.

‘Ok.’ Stiles said, nodding. ‘Ok. We promise that no matter what happens, we’re friends first and always.’ He held out his hand, fingers curled except his pinky. Scott looked down at it, then up at Stiles and smiled.

The first time they’d made a promise to one another, Scott had held out his pinky to a very confused Stiles. When he explained what he knew about pinky swears and how they couldn’t be broken, Stiles had nodded enthusiastically and stuck his own out to complete the process. Since then, every important promise they’d made had been sealed with a pinky promise.

Scott moved his hand off Stiles’ wrist and looped his pinky around Stiles’.

‘I, Scott McCall, pinky promise that no matter what happens between Stiles Stilinski and I in our romantic relationship we will be friends first and always.’ Stiles smiled at the words romantic relationship.

‘I, Stiles Stilinski, pinky promise that no matter what happens between Scott McCall and I in our romantic relationship we will be friends first and always.’ They grinned at each other, and then Scott used the hand still on the back of Stiles’ neck to reel him in for another kiss.

#scilesweek #sciles week 2021 #sciles week day 6 #sciles #scott and stiles #friends to lovers #prompt: talks we should have had #day 6: talks we should have had #prompt fill #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #scott mccall #stiles stilinski

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inkykeiji · 3 years

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how did u become such an amazing writer? this might sound dumb but every time i read your work i learn a bunch of new words lol

first of all, wow, thank you SO much for that compliment!!! i’m literally gushing over that one sentence alone hehehe thank you thank you <33 and that totally doesn’t sound dumb at all!!! i’m actually super happy to hear that!!! <3

beware: LONG post beneath the keep reading!!!

okay, so. bear with me for a moment while i ramble a little bit, okay? i want to preface this by linking you to a cute little post leah wrote on the concept of ‘talent’, just in case it’s something you need to hear!! i know sometimes people can get a little down on themselves + their skill and just go ‘oh well, i’m just not talented enough’ or ‘i wasn’t born with that talent’ and i want to discourage you from ever thinking like that. i agree 100% with leah; i believe ‘talent’ is simply a natural inclination someone might’ve been born with, but not that it means that someone who wasn’t born with that inclination can’t be just as good as the person with the ‘talent’; you absolutely can.

if you already knew that, then fantastic!!!! <333 i just wanted to mention it, just in case, you know???

okay!!! i think there are a few major factors that contribute to my current skill as a writer, and they’re the same three pieces of advice i give everyone who asks about how they can improve their craft:

practice

study/reading

consuming other art forms

- practice: i know this is probably a given, but it truly IS the best way to improve. (if you’ve been around on my blog for a while u might’ve already heard me say this a few times ehehe but) i always say creativity is a muscle—because it is. we all have it, and the more you ‘exercise’ it, the stronger it’ll become. skill is kind of the same way: the more you practice something, the better you’ll get at it, and the faster you’ll improve. HOWEVER!!!! i want to caution you against doing too much too fast. please, don’t overwhelm yourself!!! if you’re not used to writing often, work your way up to it at your own pace. there’s no rush or time limit here—you do what feels best for YOU at whatever pace is most comfortable. just like when you’re exercising a physical muscle, you can ‘strain’ your creative muscle by trying to do too much too quickly as well (creative burnout, basically).

for me, i write nearly every single day. sometimes it’s only a paragraph or two, sometimes its thousands of words, but the most important point here is that i am continuing to practice and sharpen my skills, you know? no practice is bad practice, i pinky promise you that. even if it feels like everything you’re writing is awful and you hate it all (and we ALL have these days, they are normal!!) you ARE still improving!!!

i want to make it clear here that i am NOT suggesting you write every single day if you aren’t already used to writing regularly. i’ve been writing since i was teeny tiny (seriously, at age 7 i used to walk around at recess talking to myself, literally telling myself a story out loud that i was making up on the spot........) and i’ve had plenty of time to practice and build up that stamina. i don’t know where you are in your writing journey, but if you aren’t used to writing regularly, work on building up to that first. again, don’t overwhelm yourself!!! it’s okay if it’s only a few sentences a few days a week—it’s something, and that’s what counts!

- study/reading: i read a LOT as a child, and i read a lot throughout university (and for university), and i try my best to find time to read now, a few hours a week. when you read, you are (on some level) studying the craft, among a whole slew of other things. you literally mentioned it yourself when you pointed out that you always learn some new vocab from reading my work!!! so please, read. anything and everything. do you have a favourite author or novel(s)? sit down and figure out why you like them. do you have any authors or books you just can’t stand? sit down and think about why you hate them, etc etc etc.

- consume other art forms: so i went to school for film, which meant i was watching five movies a week on average, not counting whatever i’d throw on at home while doing readings and all that. i genuinely think my education (studying films from all angles, from interdisciplinary perspectives, making films etc) helped me strengthen my skill as a writer even more. now, i’m not telling you to go get a film degree hehehe, all i’m saying is to consume other art forms in addition to reading: film, photography, painting, music, theatre, dance, etc etc etc. whatever you’d like/whatever interests you most. it’ll help you see things from different perspectives and, if i can be a little cheesy, it’s good for your soul <3

waaaaah sorry this post is SO LONG anon!!!! but those are the things that i think have helped me improve my skill the most, and continue to aid me!!! if anything’s unclear or you have any other questions please don’t hesitate to ask!! i hope this answers your question hehe <33

#for example; i am AWFUL at drawing. like absolutely horrendous hahaha #but does that mean i can't learn how to draw and become a great artist???? NO!! of course not!!!#i may need to work harder than those who have a natural inclination for drawing but i could still do it if i really wanted to #this applies to any art + skill + craft #ANYWAY I'LL STOP RAMBLING NOW #have a fantastic weekend anon bb and be safe!!! ily!!!!#thank you again for such a lovely compliment!!! <333333 #inky.bb #clari gets mail

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blizabrth · 3 years

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for the unpopular/controversial opinions: rio forced rhea to unfriend beth. yea the whole thing was a snafu (understatement) but rhea was willing to look past beth's *indiscretions*

oh, wow, okay! this is an interesting one. my answer is definitely complicated because i think it's dependent on a lot, so i'll just ramble a bit and see if i have a definitive answer at the end.

so i think this is heavily dependent on how much rhea knows what happened between beth and rio. how much did rio reveal to her once he found out rhea and beth had a budding friendship? did he tell her beth shot him? did he tell her he was shot at all? i sort of lean that he didn't, that he kept the fact that he was seriously injured to himself. he likes to omit information he doesn't feel someone needs to know, and i think that would extend to rhea and marcus in this instance -- like, he's back, he's heal(ing), there's no reason to burden them with that knowledge (or to reveal more of his vulnerability around beth).

one of the biggest holes in the show to me was always his arrival back at rhea's after his long absence. would have loved to see a conversation between them over this. i got the feeling that this wasn't the first time rio up and disappeared from how rhea talked about him with beth, and how she reacted on her doorstep when he showed back up. but that this instance was Different -- it was probably longer that usual, and likely had less (if any) communication since he was under fbi sequester.

so, what did rio tell her? how did he explain that away? in typical rio fashion he was probably vague. and since rhea knows him and they have history, she probably accepted most of his vagueness. because, well, he's back, and marcus is happy to see his dad again.

but then he finds out it's beth that rhea is talking about, that it's jane that marcus is talking about being on his soccer team. and he realizes these wires -- personal and professional -- are being crossed without his control or say. beth has wormed her way deeper into his life and the lives of people he cares for while he's been caged up and healing from injuries she inflicted upon him, unawares. he doesn't want those lines to cross, but i don't think it's from any sort of possessive feelings or jealousy or anything like that. it's because it's dangerous to cross those wires -- obvious from his speech to beth in the dubby episode. it's imperative that he (and his business colleagues) do not forget the danger that they put themselves and their families in by doing the work they do. this is another instance beth blurs that line, disregarding the necessary distance that is required to keep the people they care about safe.

rhea is not involved in crime. i headcanon that she's a nurse or in some sort of healthcare field or even veterinary medicine based on how she wears scrubs in that one park scene. she doesn't even really seem to be too privy to what rio does in her conversations with beth. it's like he pays a fat check for child support and she's stopped asking questions -- which, like, valid, it's probably really painful to care for someone and know they put themselves in danger and yet they won't talk to you about it because they're trying to keep you safe.

so, he has to drive a wedge between them. for the safety of his family. and like we don't know enough about rhea to say otherwise, so, maybe she's the jealous type. maybe all he had to say is that he and beth were ~involved and that changed rhea's opinion of beth completely. or, if that's not the angle, maybe it was more -- he says, you know, she's just using you, to get money, she's a leech, she'll suck you dry, etc, etc, etc. whatever spin he put on it, there was the real emotion of betrayal behind his words, and so it was believable. and so rhea believed him.

and so she stopped trusting beth. and ultimately, beth lied to her. so it wasn't unfounded. and so beth's reaction when rio returned, to be sheepish and apologize (vaguely lol just like rio), it only confirmed whatever story rio spun to rhea. and she was disgusted. in the short moments we got with rhea, she came off as a genuine, caring, friendly person. and regardless of what happened, i don't think she can forgive being taken advantage of, which is what beth ultimately did, regardless of what happened between her and rio.

and so that's what i think was the nail in the coffin. rhea really was just looking for a friend, and beth took advantage of that. there would be no coming back from that sort of unfaithful behavior.

..............................................so idk! i'm not sure how i feel about this, because we have so little canon-context for this! these are all just my headcanons and thoughts, and really it's just super, super complicated. i think they wanted us to believe that rio told rhea that beth shot him? maybe? but the sort of emotional reactions i would expect from that didn't happen on screen, so, that's why i think otherwise.

i guess, technically, i agree? but mostly because i don't see any way rio would be "okay" with rhea and beth staying buddies under the context of, well, everything.

would definitely be open to hearing other opinions on this though! this was really interesting to think about. thanks for sending it to me <3

send me an unpopular/controversial opinion and i’ll tell you if i agree or not!

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kissinginkitchens · 3 years

Text

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Two: Where the Heart Is

a/n: Thank you so much for all of the love you have shown to part one! I’m so glad to see that you’re enjoying YBMH so far, the story is just getting started. I hope you’ll stick around for the full thing, so without further ado, here’s chapter two! As always, my inbox is open so feel free to come chat with me when you have finished this part :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drug use

Word Count: 5.1k

read part one here

The phone screen flickers to life at the touch of Harry’s finger, flashing the exact same time that it had the last time he checked, though it feels like hours have passed since then. He sighs at the disappointing revelation and turns his phone over so that the screen meets the aged wood of the piano where it rests. In all honesty, Harry has no idea why he agreed to the interview in the first place. He had skillfully dodged the hundreds of requests for an exclusive tell-all following the untimely split of One Direction and successfully avoided the prying eyes of the general public for several months. So why had he indulged the first request from a girl he hardly knew without so much as a blink? The answer seemed a frustrating mystery to him, but to anyone else, the fluttering in his stomach when he caught a glimpse of her yellow Ford Bronco pulling up to the studio and the way he instinctively raked a hand through his hair gave the answer away.

“I know I’m late, I’m sorry!” Alani apologizes, emerging from the car with a notebook nestled under her arm and a smoothie in each hand. She closes the door with her hip before making a beeline to the studio entrance where Harry stands, his right shoulder leaning against the doorframe with the same stoic expression Alani recognizes as his signature look.

“I had to get my sister to cover for me at the café and then I got lost because Google sent me to a Napua restaurant instead of the recording studio,” she rambles in an attempted continuation of her apology. “But anyway, this is for you. A peace offering and a thank you for doing this.”

Harry gingerly takes the green smoothie from her outstretched hand and offers a curt nod in response before ushering her inside.Alani pushes her sunglasses up and settles them into her windswept waves, trailing behind Harry and taking in the space. In one corner across the room, she notices a couple of brightly colored tapestries thumbtacked to the wall with a microphone stand perched in the center, all encased behind a screen of plexiglass. The adjacent wall is lined with guitars all standing at attention and glimmering, despite the dim lighting. Harry stops at the doorway of another room with a couch and a coffee table, the floor littered with wires and pieces of crumpled paper. He motions Alani to step inside and then clears his throat, which catches the attention of two other long-haired men chatting with amused expressions on their faces.

“Sorry lads,” Harry crosses his arms with eyes glued to the floor to avoid their questioning stares. “‘Fraid I have to intrude. Can we have this room?”

One of the men grins behind a full beard, popping a peanut M&M into his mouth before standing. “Sure thing, boss man. Let’s bounce, Rowland.”

The other man, also bearded but smaller in stature with a thin, pointed nose nods silently. He continues twirling two drumsticks between his fingers and points one of them at Harry in passing. Alani offers polite smiles at the both of them, and a quiet “thank you” falls from her lips as they exit without another word. Harry closes the door behind them and gestures to the couch, which she takes as her cue to sit.

“I like the uniform,” Alani smiles, gesturing to her hair as a comment on the fact that the three men all share similar lengths and styles.

“Thanks,” is all Harry says, taking a seat across from hers and clearly dismissing her attempt at humor.

To pacify the urge to fill the uncomfortable silence, Alani sips her strawberry smoothie and steals a glance through her eyelashes at Harry who is doing the same. She clears her throat after a minute and sets the drink on the table in front of her; a notebook takes its place on her lap.

“Thank you again for doing this, I really appreciate it,” Alani offers while digging through her bag for her phone. “I’m gonna record this on voice notes, just for the sake of quoting you accurately.”

“Sure,” Harry replies, occupying his gaze with the condensation trickling from the cup onto his fading black jeans.

Dry retorts from everyone else, especially customers, have little effect on the way Alani conducts herself. But every short comment from Harry, or lack thereof, makes her feel like a bug under a microscope. She settles her phone onto the coffee table and takes a deep breath to calm the trembling that spreads from her chest into her fingers and toes.

“So first, I wanted to ask about your time in Hawai’i. Are you enjoying it so far?” Alani poses the question lightly, hoping to open him up just enough to extract the story that she’s really looking for.

“It’s nice,” Harry nods, finally meeting her expectant stare. When she doesn’t respond for a beat, he clears his throat and adds on to the statement. “Weather’s good,”

Alani musters a half-hearted smile and glances down at the questions on her page. This is going to take for-fucking-ever, she sighs.

“Is that what drew you here—vacation? Getting away?”

“Yeah, pretty much,”

The row of guitars behind the singer catches her attention suddenly and guides the next question.

“And to write or.. record?”

Harry shifts in his seat, calculating his response carefully. “Both,”

“Solo stuff?”

Alani watches as he takes a slow sip of his smoothie and crosses his legs, an action which tells her that she’s struck a dead end. Or, at the very least, a door that she hasn’t gained his trust to open yet.

“You were with One Direction for half a decade,” She recovers. “Constantly releasing new music and touring. But now you’re here, doing neither, and haven’t done so for almost a year. What is that transition like?” Alani isn’t sure if Harry will answer when she poses the question, but to her surprise he meets her gaze and nods, as if to say that he accepts the inquiry.

“It’s different than anything I’ve ever done, for sure,” he starts slowly. It’d be a lie to say that he hasn’t given the breakup and, subsequently, his future outside of the band much thought. He thinks about it every day, especially his bandmates and their supportive fans. That much he has been able to unpack privately, but the rest of it—the sudden need to escape and write new music— is still something he can’t quite put into words, so he leans into the nostalgia and hopes it’ll suffice.

“Like you said, it’s been non-stop for the past five years, so I guess it is a bit jarring to come to a sudden halt after so much momentum. Obviously, it’s nice to have the time off, but I love putting out music and touring it. I wouldn’t trade that for anything,”

Alani is grateful to have more than a couple of words of material, despite the fact that it doesn’t really answer the question or tell her anything new about the man sitting crossed legged and closed off in front of her. Looking through her notes, Alani selects another question and embarks on a new angle.

“You were really young when all of that began,” she starts, thinking about how she could never have left her family and home at just 16. Hell, she was 22 and still figuring it out. Hopefully, if all things went well with this interview and Rolling Stone, she would finally find the opportunity to do it. “Do you ever think about where you would be if you hadn’t auditioned for X-Factor?”

Harry knows that she’s playing it safe, trying to feel him out and test the buttons she can push. He also knows that he’s being difficult, much more so than usual due to his nerves. So with an unfamiliar pang in his chest, he decides to relent the tiniest bit.

“Well, I’m starting to think maybe I could’ve been a professional surfer,” he offers matter-of-factly which makes Alani flash an amused grin. Harry’s sudden humor makes the room a bit less suffocating for the both of them and she’s grateful for it.

“Surfing, huh? This I have to see.” she quips back, suddenly trying to picture him ditching the black skinny jeans for a wetsuit.

He nods with a faint smirk. “Maybe you will.”

Alani meets his gaze with a shy smile of her own and her eyes fall to his lips for a brief second. The almost imperceptible action sends another foreign jolt through Harry’s chest. She opens her mouth to resume questioning when a loud bang startles them both and causes Harry to spin in his seat, looking through the glass window of the sound booth.

“Sorry!” A man with short, blonde hair and a fading tie dye shirt laughs while lifting the tipped over drum cymbals. “Don’t mind us!”

The two men from earlier straggle in behind and poorly conceal their own fits of laughter. Harry flashes his middle finger briefly, mouthing something that Alani can’t see but knows is undoubtedly rude. She suppresses a giggle and sneaks a glance at her phone, which indicates only a few minutes worth of dialogue. When she lifts her head, the door opens and the blonde man peeks his head in.

“Hello,” he greets with an extended hand before entering and taking a seat next to Alani on the couch. “Tom Hull, or Kid Harpoon...or just Tom, whatever you like best,”

She accepts his hand eagerly, not missing the way Harry pinches the bridge of his nose in her peripheral vision. “Mahealani Hale, or just Alani. Nice to meet you,”

“Wow, beautiful name,” Tom compliments. “Sorry to interrupt, I didn’t realize you had company, H,”

“She was just—”

“I’m writing about-” The two speak at the same time, making brief eye contact before Harry turns his attention back to Tom.

“Did you need something?” He asks. Tom’s eyes dart between Harry and Alani before he clears his throat and reclines in his seat.

“Just dropping by to see if you wanted to go for lunch...” he trails off, which Alani takes as a cue to start gathering her belongings.

“Kind of busy here,” Harry offers with a glance back at the girl seated awkwardly across from him. “Another time,”

At this, Tom turns to Alani and ignores his friend’s protests. “Alani, do you eat lunch?”

Before responding, she casts an apprehensive glimpse at Harry who has suddenly become very intrigued by the drink in his lap, purposefully avoiding her eyes.

“Uh.. well yeah, but I don’t-”

“Great! Have lunch with us,”

“Mate—” Harry speaks up.

Tom grins, shrugging. “What? You plan on starving the poor girl?”

“I really can’t, but thank you for the offer,” Alani explains with a sheepish smile, standing and slinging her bag over her shoulder. “It was really nice to meet you Tom. And thank you again, Harry, I’ll see you around.”

The musician watches her shuffle out of the sound booth quietly and turns his attention back at Tom, who sits with an incredulous look on his face.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” He asks, standing. “Go after her, dickhead!”

“It’s not like that she’s-”

“I really don’t give a fuck about your excuses, go!”

Harry scoffs and rolls his eyes, looking out the window as Alani slips through the front door.

She fishes her keys out of her bag and sighs when a familiar voice says her name.

“Alani!” Harry calls from the doorway, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun. He makes his way down the steps and over to the driver’s side where she ghosts the key over the ignition.

“Come have lunch...please?”

“It’s okay,” she purses her lips together politely. “I don’t wanna get in the way,”

Harry catches his lower lip between his teeth and runs a hand through his hair, choosing his next words thoughtfully.

“No, you’re not—you won’t,” he starts. “I would really like it if you joined us for lunch, especially since our time got interrupted. Please, let me make it up to you.”

Alani can’t help the way her stomach flips at the words “our time” that fall from his lips and she finds herself nodding in agreement before her mind has had a chance to intervene.

She makes her way to the passenger seat of the Range Rover parked behind the studio, which she learns is where all of Harry’s entourage keeps their vehicles. A variety of brightly colored vintage cars are neatly parked, and it amuses her that Harry skips all of them, instead going straight for the black SUV with darkly tinted windows. At least he’s consistent, she smirks. As Alani climbs into the car, she is met by the warmth of Harry’s scent—something woodsy and vanilla— and the fact that she recognizes it makes her heart pound.

“You can connect your phone,” Harry nods to the stereo as he buckles his seatbelt. “To the Bluetooth, I mean, if you’d like.”

“Really?” she asks, brow raised in mild disbelief.

“Only if you play something good,” he teases with a stony expression, adjusting the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. Alani takes that as a challenge, scrolling through various playlists as Harry peels away onto the main road. Over the speakers, the beginning of “Don’t Worry Baby” by The Beach Boys surrounds the two of them.

“Is this to your liking, my liege?” Alani poses in an exaggerated British accent that makes Harry cringe, though the small grin on his face gives away his endearment.

“Yes, but please don’t do that accent ever again,”

“So you admit it, you’re the one with the accent,” she wiggles her brows, eyes peeling away from the view out her window to Harry in the driver’s seat.

“If it’ll get you to never do that one again, sure,” “Dunno, love,” she continues, watching the coast shimmer under the afternoon sun. “Think it kinda suits me,”

Harry shakes his head and checks the rearview mirror to make sure that he hasn’t lost Tom, Mitch, and Jeff in the car trailing behind.

“What’s it like?” Alani questions, studying the perfect slope of his pointed nose and strawberry pout.

“What’s what like?”

“England,”

Harry thinks for a second, recalling his London flat, lunches with his mum and sister, the streets of Trafalgar Square, and Abbey Road.

“Rainy,” is all he says.

Alani scoffs, which draws his attention over to where she lounges in his passenger seat, sitting comfortably as if it was exactly where she belonged. “That’s all?”

“What?” He questions, though he knows exactly what she means and is perfectly aware of his own stubbornness.

“Just seems like... I don’t know, such a generic description for a place you consider home,”

Harry mulls her response over, the word “home” especially catching his interest. It’s a strange concept in his mind because while, yes, England is where he has spent the majority of his life and where the people he loves most reside, he has never truly felt connected to just one place. And after spending his formative years traveling the world, who could blame him?

“It’s... safe,” he tries again, attempting to verbalize what he’s feeling. “When I’m there, I mean, I feel safe. Like I don’t have to be anyone or do anything specific, I can just... be. No expectations,”

Alani lets Harry’s words sit between them for a moment, sensing that there is still more he wants to say. When she doesn’t respond after a minute, he continues in an effort to clarify and fill the lull in the conversation.

“I used to think that London was just a starting point and that if I could make it to LA, it would mean that I had really made it, and I would feel more at home there,” he continues, slow and calculated. “But I dunno... when I’m there it still feels like an extended holiday, like I’m just buying time until I leave for the next place. London doesn’t feel like that, feels much more constant... so yeah, I guess it is home,”

As if she had read his mind earlier, Alani adds on. “Not to mention that’s where your family is, I’m assuming,”

Harry nods, once again thinking of his mum and sister. The image of their beaming faces brings the shadow of a dimple to his cheek. “Yeah,”

“What’s your family like?” She continues, truly interested and forgetting for a moment about the article she still has to write.

“Kind of small, I guess. S’really just my sister and my mum, but they’re,” Harry pauses, searching for the right words, “They’re the best. My mum’s probably the kindest woman I’ve ever met. Feel pretty lucky with that one, considering what a pest I was as a child,” he chuckles lightly and it’s a sound that Alani hadn’t heard up to this point, but one she knows she’ll replay in her mind over and over again.

“Gem’s pretty patient too—and brilliant, always the studious one,” he adds finally, a dreamy look on his face that Alani much prefers to the stoic one he always dons. .

“Ah yes, there’s always one,” she nods, catching the quirked brow he offers in response.

“Oh yeah? Are you the one in your family?”

“I guess so. School just seemed to come easily to me,”

“And what made you want to study journalism?” He questions, stopping to let a woman and her toddler cross.

Alani thinks about it for a moment while twirling a strand of fabric from the hem of her ripped shorts around her finger.

“I’ve always loved to write, ever since I was really little— like short stories and stuff. And I don’t know, I guess I like the idea of traveling and seeking out a story, too.”

Harry nods understandingly, pulling up to a curb across the street from a restaurant that Alani has frequented. It’s relatively empty at Pineapples for a summer afternoon, though most tourists don’t stray too far from the beaches, so Hilo maintains a healthy local population at all times. The pair climb out of the car and Alani makes her way to the rear where the rest of the group has parked. One of the men from earlier greets her with an outstretched hand while Harry chats with the other two that emerge.

“Hi I’m Jeff, it’s nice to meet you.” He smiles warmly, pushing his sunglasses into his hair.

“Alani. It’s nice to meet you, Jeff,”

“Sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to be rude by not saying hi it’s just-”

Alani dismisses his concern with a wave of her hand. “Oh don’t worry about it! I was kind of nervous then, too. I don’t know if he told you, but I’m interviewing Harry,”

“Oh, right! Yeah, he did mention that I think,” Jeff recalls, “Which magazine are you with?”

“None.” Yet, Alani thinks, her mind wandering to the Rolling Stone rejection letter. “It’s for a class, I’m a journalism major. Harry was just being nice and agreed to let me write about his music,”

Jeff nods. “Got it. You know, he’s not normally this serious. Just got a lot on his mind but he’ll loosen up,” he explains quietly just as Alani and Harry’s eyes meet. She quickly averts her gaze back to the kind, bearded man standing before her.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” she smiles appreciatively.

“Where’s Jeffrey?” Harry speaks up, catching her attention. She looks back to Jeff, confused, before he shakes his head.

“Other Jeff, his manager.” He explains.

“Probably already inside, he said he’d meet us here.” Mitch pipes up.

With that, the rest of the crew head into the restaurant while Alani stays a few steps behind to follow their lead.

“Y’okay?” Harry asks, shuffling along beside her.

Alani startles slightly at his unexpected presence, but relaxes as their strides fall into sync.

“Yeah, thanks. And thank you for the invite, too.” She offers, the corners of her mouth upturned softly. Harry responds with a tight-lipped smile of his own and clears his throat before holding the door open for her.

In the far corner of the restaurant near the open balcony, Harry’s manager Jeff waves the group over to the table he saved. Everyone exchanges greetings and settles into their seats, the two at the end facing each other remain open for Alani and Harry.

“Jeff, this is..Mahealani, did I get that right?” Tom gestures to Alani for approval.

She nods and waves. “Yes, but you can just call me Alani,”

“Nice to meet you,” Jeff calls from the other end of the table, glancing over to Harry in search of an explanation for her presence.

“I’m writing a piece about Harry and his music,” Alani offers. “But I’d love to talk to all of you, if you have a chance.”

Jeff nods, still shooting Harry a knowing look. “Yeah, sure thing.”

The two Jeffs, Tom, and Mitch engage in their own conversations, mostly inside jokes that go over Alani’s head. Harry watches, silent for most of the interaction and barely engaging the girl seated across from him, though he is overwhelmingly aware of her presence. When the server comes to take their order, warmth floods to Alani’s cheeks.

“Alani, hey!” the tall server greets, flashing a handsome, pearly-white smile. “Long time, no see. You’re looking good as always,”

“Mahalo, David. You look good, as well,” She smiles politely, catching onto the way that Harry sits a little straighter in her peripheral vision. David still pays no regard to the rest of the table, but his gaze momentarily flickers over Harry and sizes him up before returning to Alani.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were on a date,” he apologizes, which makes Alani’s eyes bulge and Mitch snicker beside her.

“Oh no, we’re not—“

“He’s just—” Alani and Harry speak at the same time, eyes darting to one another before she explains.

“I’m... working on something—an article,” she says, and David nods understandingly.

“Oh...right. Big-shot reporter, I almost forgot,” David teases in a snide way that makes Harry’s blood boil with annoyance. “Anyways, what can I get you all? The usual for you, right Alani?”

She nods curtly while the rest of the group take turns ordering. After the server has gone, Harry notices a shift in her easy-going demeanor and decides that it’s his turn to break the ice.

“Come here often then?” He poses gently, taking a sip of his lemonade.

Her lips press into a tight line as her eyes wander to the other patrons. “Yeah, kinda,”

“Asshole ex-boyfriend ruined that, I’m guessing?”

Alani lets out an amused breath and shakes her head.

“He’s not my ex. I mean we went out, like, once in high school... and maybe a handful of times in college but that’s it, really,”

Harry studies the uneasiness in her expression trying, and failing, to understand what she’s holding back.

“Seems like you dodged a bullet,” he confides, leaning in. Alani’s eyes meet his and her pursed lips ease into a small grin, which Harry mirrors with a simper of his own. As he rests his smooth chin in his palm, she notices a large, healing scab along the underside of his forearm, and her brows furrow.

“How’d that happen?” Alani asks.

“He jumped out a window,” Mitch intervenes. “Though to be fair, he was high,”

Harry shoots a deathly glare at Mitch and turns back to Alani. “It was a one-time thing.”

“It was shrooms,” Mitch replies with an amused smirk.

“Hardcore,” Alani giggles lightly.

Mitch swirls the straw in his mimosa with his index finger while extending a pinky at Alani. “You do drugs?”

She shrugs, taking a sip of her Mai Tai. “Smoked weed a few times, though not enough to consider myself a pothead, I guess,”

Mitch snorts and steals a glance at Harry. “Pot makes our boy sleepy, and hungry. Alcohol makes him giggly. Shrooms get him buzzed just right,”

Harry’s cheeks flush and he averts his gaze past Alani where families and visitors roam the streets outside.

“Jumping out a window’s ‘just right’? I’d hate to see what going overboard looks like.” she teases, watching the blush of embarrassment creep across the bridge of Harry’s nose and cheeks.

“Keeps things interesting.” Mitch shrugs, turning back to Jeff to join his previous conversation.

Alani feels a strange sense of endearment wash over her at the thought of a giggly Harry, dimples replacing a deeply furrowed brow. In the short time she’d known and served him at the café, she’d only ever seen him reserved—polite, at best. Alani had hoped that interviewing Harry would provide some insight into his mysterious background, but she didn’t imagine that she would want to know more than what could be penned in her article. In the few minutes spent mingling with him and his friends, she began to think that maybe there was something worth getting to know, not just professionally, but before she can give it a second thought, David returns with their food.

“Thanks, Derek.” Harry says, flashing a facetious grin at David who stands confused for a second before sauntering back to the kitchen. Alani laughs, quickly clasping a hand over her mouth, and Harry’s stomach flips at the sound. He immediately wishes he knew what else he could do to hear it again.

Alani scrapes the last bits of potato off her plate and leans back in her seat, patting her growing food baby.

“I’m thinking of naming mine Oliver, you?” She sighs contentedly.

“Anne, after my mum,” he quips back, pulling out his wallet.

Alani reaches into her bag for her own, but Harry shakes his head and speaks up. “Don’t worry about it, ‘s on me,”

“Oh, no Harry you really don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind,” he shrugs, slipping his card onto the small clipboard attached to their receipts.

“Thank you,” Alani smiles, feeling warmth spread through her limbs, but she assumes that it’s mostly due to the rum in her system.

Harry pushes a lock of hair behind his ear and returns the wallet to his back pocket without another word. While there is no alcohol coursing through his blood, he refuses to believe that the burning in his cheeks has anything to do with the girl seated before him.

Alani climbs back into the passenger’s seat of the SUV while Harry settles behind the wheel. He braces his right hand behind the headrest of her seat and skillfully reverses, only becoming aware of their proximity when he turns back to switch gears. Alani peels her eyes from his and focuses on finding a playlist for their journey back to the studio, her mind racing as she clicks shuffle. Harry’s arm retreats, much to Alani’s disappointment, and his ears perk up when he hears the familiar chimes at the beginning of Fleetwood Mac’s “Everywhere”.

“‘S a good one,” Harry breaks the silence, tapping on the steering wheel. “Christine always says it’s her favorite,”

“Christine...McVie?” Alani questions with an eyebrow quirked. “You know Christine McVie?”

“Kind of,” he shrugs, the corners of his lips twitching into a smirk.

“Do you know Stevie Nicks?”

“Yeah. She lives in London,”

“Holy shit!” Alani marvels, covering her mouth in excitement.

Harry chuckles lightly, stealing a glance over at Alani still processing the news. “Big fan?”

She whips her head away from the window and scoffs. “Massive. Named my car Stevie, actually,”

“Hardcore,” Harry teases, echoing her own comment about his psychedelic escapades.

“Yes, Mr. Spider-Man. In my own right, I suppose it is hardcore,” Alani retorts.

“I thought Spider-Man climbed buildings. Don’t think he jumped out of them.”

“I’m sure he’s done his fair share of both.”

The two drive down the coast for a while without a word, Harry drumming against the steering wheel as the song dies out while Alani soaks in the view outside her window. Suddenly, she reaches over and taps him on the arm, drawing him out of his reverie.

“Turn right up there!”

“Why?” Harry asks, already putting his blinker on.

Alani doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t need to. Harry saw it just seconds after turning into the lookout and it left him breathless. The car comes to a stop and Alani wastes no time unbuckling her seatbelt and stepping into the humid air, Harry close behind. Before them, the biggest rainbow either of them had ever seen shimmers in the high afternoon sun like a wall of unbelievable vibrant hues. Harry had never seen one this close, he felt as though he could reach out and feel each color slip through his fingers.

“Are you making a wish?” Alani asks reverently, as if raising her voice too loud will spook it away.

“I thought that was for shooting stars,”

“We’re literally staring face to face with a rainbow and you’re gonna argue with me about the logistics of a wish?”

“Okay, okay,” he relents, grinning to himself as his eyes flutter close.

Harry takes a deep breath and searches his brain for something, anything, but there is only one word pounding in his mind. He doesn’t know why it stood out to him when Alani first said it, but it struck a chord within him that hasn’t stopped reverberating, so it must mean something. Harry swallows the lump forming at the back of his throat and releases the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. When his eyes flutter open again, he steals a peek through the corner of his eye at the girl beside him and then fixes his gaze back on the rainbow.

“S’quite big, innit?” He remarks, breaking the reverent silence.

Alani snorts and shakes her head, turning on her heel back to the car.

“You’re so eloquent. Can’t wait to hear what lyrical gems are hiding in your new album,”

“Heyyy,” Harry pouts, climbing behind the wheel. “Who said anything about an album?”

As they peel away from the lookout, Harry can sense something has shifted in the atmosphere, though he can’t quite put his finger on it. He opts to ignore it and poses a lighthearted question instead.

“What’d you wish for?”

Alani narrows her eyes playfully. “You’re not supposed to tell. It won’t come true.”

Harry hums, trying to imagine what she could possibly wish for that would require such secrecy, but his thoughts wander back to the singular word that has haunted his mind since it left her lips.

Home.

Next Chapter

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #harry styles writing #harry fic #ybmh

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rintarous · 4 years

Text

after shutting off your phone, you immediately jumped out of your seat and waved at your brother and his teammates from the balcony as they said their thanks to the audience. you made eye contact with tsukishima and rushed downstairs to congratulate them in person.

“you guys that was an amazing rally!” you squealed as you met up with them in the luggage area. “thank you, y/n” daichi smiles. you clapped your hands and walk towards to your brother. “keikei you were on fire today! akiteru nii chan is definitely going to cry when i’ll tell him” you rambled, linking your arm with tsukishima

“did you have to make that rhyme?” was all he could let out, tired from long ass game they played against inarizaki. “where’s shoyo and tobio?” you looked around for the freak duo. “SHOYOOOOO” you jump at him. “y/n!” he screamed back, catching you as you latch yourself onto the middle blocker

“HOW DARE YOU MISS THAT TOSS FROM TOBIO” you nagged at him. hinata drops you as he scratches the back of his neck in shame. “that jump felt good” he reasons. “you dumbass” kageyama buts in your conversation, smacking hinata on the back of his head. “OY KAGEYAMA-KUN” hinata swats him away.

you tapped kageyama on his back, “yeah?” he looks down at you in confusion. you motioned him to come closer and you whispered something in his ear. “do you know anyone in inarizaki?” you asked. kageyama raises a brow but nods his head. “yeah, miya-san. why?” he answers.

you smiled devilishly. “can you do me a favor tobio-chan~?”

—

you, along with tsukishima and kageyama were on your way to look for atsumu miya and his team. “kageyama, you could’ve said no to my sister you know?” tsukishima groans for what seems like the nth time today. you stopped in your tracks and flipped your hair to glare at your brother. “why are you with us then?”

tsukishima rolls his eyes, “so i can see if you’re gonna do anything stupid and irresponsible like last time” he deadpans. you let out a small gasp, ready to smack your 6′3 ft. brother in the face until kageyama speaks up.

“miya-san!” kageyama calls to his blonde upperclassman he met at the japan youth training camp. “oh hey tobio-kun” atsumu waves, zipping his bag and walked towards the setter. you scanned the people behind him to look for a certain someone.

“i have a request from my teammate’s sister” kageyama starts, moving towards to the side for you to come out and meet atsumu miya. “aww is she a fan?” atsumu grins widely, “you want a selfie with me? since tobio-kun asked, sure” he assumes, grabbing a hold of your shoulders to pull you to his side.

“actually no” you say, removing his hand from your shoulder with no emotion, shocking atsumu. this was probably the first time he got rejected. your brother, who was behind kageyama, covers his mouth to prevent himself from laughing out loud. luckily, he manages to make it seem like he was coughing.

“she wants a picture with your middle blocker. the one who has the jersey number 10″ kageyama explains while you stand beside him, looking at your nails, completely ignoring atsumu who was beet red.

“o-oh” atsumu chokes out. “with suna.. okay wait i’ll get him” he jogs back to his team who were just lounging around their baggage area. “who was that ‘tsumu?” osamu asks as he stares at you, kageyama and tsukishima. “the guy i met at training camp. apparently the chick next to him wants a picture with suna” atsumu shares to his brother.

“SUNA?!” osamu exclaims in shock, whipping his head towards suna’s direction. “yo what the hell do you want from me” suna groans, hiding more in his varsity jacket, if that was even more possible while scrolling mindlessly through his phone. “someone wants a picture with you c’mon lets go” atsumu grabs his arm and forces him up.

“who wants to take a picture with me?!” suna complains as he was basically dragged out of his own will away from his little space he made for himself back there. “her” atsumu motions you to suna.

“shit it’s the girl i made eye contact with at the vending machine earlier” suna thinks to himself as he stares at you, who was busy talking to kageyama and tsukishima.

“here’s our middle blocker!” atsumu presents suna as if he was some powerpoint presentation. “this is suna” atsumu introduces you to him. kageyama gives you a small push to him. “kageyama!” you gasp as you were standing next to the person you’ve kept your eye on all day.

“take my phone and hurry up” you chucked your phone at kageyama who barely manages to catch it. atsumu leaves the frame as kageyama positions the phone. “1, 2, 3... smile!” atsumu chirps as he looks at the pictures kageyama was taking.

“suna don’t just stand there! do something!” atsumu jokes, looking at how stoic suna was compared to you who was so lively and smiling at every angle possible. suna sighs and throws up a half-assed peace sign. “there we go!” atsumu laughs, clapping his hands.

“you were great out there” you compliment suna beside you. suna raises a brow again, “you think so?” you felt the blood rush to your cheeks. you were practically speaking to the guy you’ve been tweeting about. “yeah it was like love at first sight” you bat your eyelashes at him.

“oh god.. is this what the twin’s fangirls are like?” he thinks to himself, grimacing a bit at the sudden confession. you grabbed your phone from kageyama and skimmed through the pictures he took. you smiled happily as you see at least 20 pictures in your gallery. one of them was gonna be your wallpaper for sure.

“can i take a selfie with you before i go?” you ask suna who looked like he was ready to dash back to their area. suna internally groans but nods anyway. completely ignoring that shit eating grin that was plastered on atsumu’s face.

“hey why are you guys taking so long?” osamu joins in the little circle. “fuck” suna curses under his breath. “hey suna what are you doing?” osamu asks, walking up to atsumu. “oh how cute. they’re taking selfies” he comments.

you ignored the two boys as you held your phone up high. since you were too short, suna had to crouch down a bit. you took a bunch more and just posed in every way possible. “thank you” you gushed, scrolling through the photos again.

suna shoves his hands in his pockets and walks back to their luggage area, leaving the twins with you guys. “hey y/n right?” you hear atsumu call out. you turned around and looked at him with a blank expression. “yeah” you turned your attention back at your phone.

“can we have your twitter or something? you seem like a fun person to be with” atsumu asks, whipping his phone out. you shrugged and told him your username. “it’s tsukkiyn” you took a peek at his phone that has twitter open. “okay followed you. see you!” atsumu waves goodbye to you and your group as he along with his twin walk back to their baggage area.

“bye! thank you miya-san!” kageyama bows at his upperclassman as you walk side by side with tsukki, grinning ear to ear. “happy now?” tsukishima asks as the three of you head back to the team. “very” you squealed, staring at your phone gallery filled with pictures of you and suna.

“he shall be my boyfriend in no time” you declared, shocking the two boys beside you. “you’re so confident, y/n. how do you do it” kageyama chuckles. “yeah let’s not make it seem like he’s some toy alright?” tsukishima reminds. “besides, they’re from hyogo, we’re from miyagi” you scoffed, “you didn’t have to put it like that kei” tsukishima shrugs, “just saying”

—

“SUNA HAS A FAN!” atsumu screams, jumping around the poor boy. “yeah let’s not talk about that” suna waves him off, bringing his attention back to his phone in hopes atsumu would get the hint and leave him alone. “who has a what now?” he hears kita ask.

suna never wanted to hide in a hole til now.

“it’s suna, kita-san!” atsumu beams in joy, “they even took a picture together” osamu adds. suna whips his head towards osamu and had the biggest look of disbelief on his face. “sorry bro but.. it’s unusual for us” osamu chuckles

“i even got her twitter! but it seems like she ain’t interested in me” atsumu mumbles the last part. “not everyone is after you, dickwad” osamu retorts, sitting next to his best friend, suna.

“i don’t understand why you all find this so amusing” suna mumbles under his breath. too bad for him, osamu heard it. “cuz’ it’s like the first time we’ve seen someone who wants a picture with you or somethin’“ osamu reasons. “plus she looked like she was an atsumu fan but no., she’s a suna fan” osamu continues, wiggling his eyebrows.

suna takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes, “we’re not idols. we’re volleyball players” knowing they won’t stop pestering him anytime soon, suna plugs in his airpods and raises the volume to the max.

as if! — six ( suna has a fan )

[ prev / next ]

↬ what you want is what you get. thats how its always been for you growing up. but the one time you let time and destiny do it’s thing, surprise, surprise! it’s not how you want it to be. maybe you‘re just clueless on how things should play out without having it your way.

a/n: wow i can actually write??? 🤡 p.s since no one asked heres an update

[ taglist: @therealwalmartjesus @90s-belladonna @babybluebisexual @o-o0613 @thenezuko @tycrackculture @kuroos-babie @clowninfortodoroki @dorkyama @iikiag @wakaitoshi @svtbitch @reogou @whalien52dreams @prettysetter @floralprintedsheets @kisskeiji @preparingtofall @kaffulatte @akaaaashit @imuziawi @thenezuko @shoutobabyboy @issalilmessy @akaashi-bby @k-gada @jimilogy @inairizaki @terriblejob-sam @kuryusmu @miyuswriting ]

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 4 years

Text

"Won't it suck, Cas?" Dean declares, as Castiel enters their room with bags hoisted on both shoulders, and elbows the door shut behind him - because apparently when you're pretending to date in front of your parents, sometimes they turn out awesome enough for you to get to - or, Dean supposes he should say, have to share a room.

Cas puts the bags down, next to their bed.

"Won't it totally, and completely, and really suck if our cover blew?"

"Who suspects what?" Cas turns, with a frustrated frown. Which soon flips to a planning, expressionless face. "Because I've still got some of those baking-stories left. I believe I can swing them into a conversation." Cas folds his arms. "And you should come with me. You tell them great, because it's the one thing which isn't a lie."

That - isn't completely fair.

A lot of things, at least as far as Dean sees them, have not been lies.

Dean does make Cas coffee every morning, sometimes takes it to his bedroom too, and Cas does do most of the shopping for the flat - there's this inside joke Dean has going with Cas's brother Gabriel, that the employees at Walmart are terrified of Cas because he once threatened someone over pie, which he never forgets, and Dean always gets so soft over that story.

They do share clothes sometimes, even if it's just ratty t-shirts they'll never wear outside, and they do have movie nights every Thursday where Dean comes up with amazing films and Cas unpreventably falls asleep in the middle of them. And they did name all of Cas's bees one night, drunk and dreamy on the balcony.

Sure, they don't fall asleep in each other's arms later, or do the couple-y things they've had to edit into otherwise real stories, but Dean thinks he makes up for it by being in all kinds of love with Cas.

Not that Cas knows, of course.

"Well, I don't doubt that you've got enough adorability ammo." Dean returns, grinning. "We are pretty cute, to be fair. And, nope." He clarifies. "Nobody doubts that we're not dating yet."

When opportunity had presented itself a couple weeks ago, at the beginning of December, Dean had found in himself just enough courage to ask Cas if he'd be okay with being his fake-date for New Year's, since he was spending it with the Winchesters anyways - adding hurriedly, that if Cas felt weirdly about it at all, he could drop the idea right there, and he'd quietly just go off in search of someone else and not bring it up again.

Cas had blinked at him a few times before saying okay, and what a wonderful understatement that had been because by the time they had to leave for Kansas, Cas was more invested in the program than he'd ever been.

"Yet?" Cas recoils, eyebrows knitted together. "What are you implying, Dean?"

What had started off as a means to shirk off lectures from his family, was now being treated like a mission. But as of the moment, sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed - Dean is happy. He's around the people he loves most, and well-fed on a heavy homemade lunch and two beers, and he's feeling light-hearted and brave.

"Tonight's fireworks night." Dean shrugs, trying to go for nonchalant and hoping he lands in non-shy, at the very least. "Out by the riverfront, sitting on blankets on the grass, and staring up at the night sky - the whole shebang."

"So?"

"People will probably expect us to kiss." Dean clears his throat, studying Cas's face for reactions. There's nothing for him there, but he doesn't stop staring. "And since we can't do that, we might -"

"I -" Cas interrupts, and maybe he's blushing a little. Jesus, Dean hopes he is. "I can."

Dean raises his eyebrows.

"Kiss, I mean."

And fuck that fucking fucker for not specifying that he can kiss Dean, because those words, strung together in a sentence and delivered in Cas's glorious fucking voice would've automatically sent Dean to paradise.

Dean's run out of things to say so he lets out a sound that's supposed to be the wordless equivalent of a 'huh'.

"I-if we had to." Cas adds, uncertainly. "Couldn't you?" He asks, and the ball is back in Dean's pitiable court.

"No, yeah." Dean supplies, and his voice cracks unhelpfully. He clears his throat and braves on to previously untraversed territory. "I could. Sure, I could."

That's one too many, and Dean wants to swallow his words back but Cas has already heard them, and there's a slow smile stretching slowly on his features.

"Then what's the problem?"

"It'd be obvious," Dean answers him, matter-of-factly. "Way too obvious that it's our first kiss. The, uh." He can't believe he's actually saying these words. "Being that close, basically. First times are bound to be weird - just the very newness of someone's lips on yours." He's goddamn rambling but he isn't going to be the first to acknowledge whose, either.

Cas's cheeks are sufficiently pink by now for Dean to feel a little bit triumphant. But then it's his turn. "You're not wrong." He begins, nodding seriously, in spite of his flustered voice. "It takes all couples a while to fall into rhythm. Sync up pace, get comfortable touching each other, and grow familiar with their partner's technique."

They're both just saying words now, and it doesn't really mean much - in fact, it's infinitesimal as compared to the lengths being exchanged by means of a long-held stare.

Questions are proposed within the silence, and permissions are granted in whispers.

"Not for nothing," Dean finally says out loud. "But maybe we should get the first time out of the way."

Cas steps closer, and there's a twinkle in his eye. "Maybe we should." Dean keeps on staring, his tongue shooting out to wet his lips. "Maybe, right away."

Dean stands up, breathing out traces of a 'yes' and Cas is right there. He's so close, and so gorgeous, and just that one inch shorter - so Dean can just lean in and Cas will probably go on his toes a little bit, and it'll be like they're meeting in the middle, and -

Dean's so lost thinking about it that he almost misses the first spark which goes through him like goddamn electricity in his veins, when Cas's hand cups his cheek, fingers splayed on his neck and thumb oh-so-close to his lips.

Dean can feel his breath hitch when Cas gently runs the pad of his thumb across the bottom lining of Dean's lower lip, and he doesn't have a single thought in his head except for Cas, Cas, Cas, as he reaches forward to grab the lapels of his coat and closes the gap.

He knows he's probably expected to ingest the intricacies of how the kiss feels - the details of Cas's taste and smell and touch; the curve of his lips, the stubble across his jaw, and his hand on Dean's face.

But far from mapping Cas's fucking technique - Dean can't even process when he's supposed to pull back. All he can do is stay, hands entangled in Cas's coat, and trapped between them, eyes closed but all other senses overly sensitive to everything Cas does.

It's not like he doesn't do his bit, but that's all instinct - his brain's signed out for the day, and this is just his nerves in command. It should be terrifying, feeling this lost - or more appropriately, afloat, in the middle of a kiss, but as their noses bump and lips collide, in slightly different angles each time they pull off to gasp for breath, it just feels right.

It feels real.

Their first kiss isn't just one kiss, Dean muses, as they separate finally but linger. It's an amalgamation of a thousand kisses, and a half a thousand breaths because Cas kept taking his away - and it's the way Cas's hand came to rest on Dean's arm, and Dean's fingers clutching a soft material which is more Cas than anything else he owns, and it's every little everything, and then some.

"Wow." Dean sighs, and he doesn't even regret sounding as overwhelmed as he does. "Cas, I - wow."

He's never been kissed like that.

Cas looks back at him a little starry-eyed, and proceeds to relax into a gummy smile instead of words - and it's happy, and lovely, and perfect.

"I might be wrong," He mutters, stepping ahead, and there's no space left, so Dean falls back to sit on the bed in surprise. "But second kisses can be pretty tricky too."

"Right." Dean scoots on backwards on the mattress, and Cas follows, climbing on the bed. "Right, yeah, with all the pressure from the first -"

"And the relatively newfound elements of intimacy -"

"And the -" Dean tries to add, but Cas is unbelievably kissable, just leaning over him, with his smile and his eyes and his hands, and Dean stops himself short. "We just really shouldn't risk it."

And that's all the preamble before he's pulled Cas over him, lips desperately seeking out all the right places to be, and their hands all over the place like they're trying to make up for years of tension in a single minute - but after a while, they're back to kissing slow and deep and warm, and he's wrapped his hands around Castiel's neck - and Castiel's fingers ghost over his spine every now and then, from where his hands rest on Dean's waist -

And it's everything Dean's ever wanted it to be.

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realmissgrizzlybear · 3 years

Text

yellow sleeves

—

mean girls 💛 cady x janis

word count: 800

—

“Is that— is that my jacket?” Cady asked incredulously.

Janis’s little “hm?” made Cady’s heart skip a beat. Janis rocked her shoulders, showing off the blue and yellow jacket draped over herself. Her arms weren’t even in the sleeves. “Yeah. Is that okay?” The corners of her lips twitched up into a smile at Cady’s wide-eyed expression, and she leaned against the edge of the table.

Cady had been studying in the school library while waiting for Janis to pick her up. What she hadn’t been expecting was for her girlfriend to show up wearing her jacket. She desperately hoped the reddening of her cheeks wasn’t visible. “Um… yeah, yeah. Did you take it from my locker?”

Janis shrugged, drawing Cady’s attention back to the yellow sleeves. It was a pretty color on Janis. “I spilled coffee on my other jacket and I was cold.” Before Cady could answer Janis leaned closer, peering down at the papers strewn all over the table. “How’s the homework going?”

Cady cleared her throat, forcing her gaze back down at her work. She willed her brain to refocus again as she replied, “I’m just studying for my math test tomorrow. It’s, um, it’s not bad.”

Janis glanced over the papers, and her laugh made Cady’s stomach twist. “Wow, I don’t understand any of this.” After a moment she pulled up a chair and sat down next to Cady. Cady could smell her vanilla perfume, as well as a trace of coffee. She smiled, watching as Janis tapped one of the equations. “Like, what is this? Letters don’t belong in math.”

“Yeah they do,” Cady giggled, gently elbowing Janis next to her. “You just hate algebra.”

Janis responded by nudging her back. “Alright, can you explain it to me then?”

Cady made an amused face at her girlfriend before glancing back down at the paper. “Explain it?”

“Yeah. You know…” Janis hummed, tapping the paper again. “...tangent. That cosine thing. Like, how do you even do that?”

Cady had the faint suspicion that Janis was teasing her somehow, for she was certain that this was something her girlfriend knew how to do. Still, she wasn’t about to give up the chance to talk about trigonometry, so she cleared her throat and picked up a pencil.

“Well, there are six reciprocal identities. Sine, cosine, tangent, cotangent, secant, and cosecant.” She scribbled down their names as she spoke, heart swelling with pride as Janis nodded and hummed to show she was listening. “They’re all related— so, for example, tangent is equal to sine over cosine, and…” as she rambled off, she barely noticed Janis’s hand clasping around her free hand. She stopped writing for a second when she processed that Janis was rubbing her thumb over the back of her hand, and she flushed before continuing.

“...so if you want to find the angle theta, you—“ she fell silent, suddenly realizing that Janis had her eyes on her and not the paper. She bit her lip, suddenly uncertain if she was being overbearing, and her girlfriend smiled.

“No, go ahead. I like when you talk about smart shit.” Janis leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss into her cheek. Cady nearly dropped the pencil, turning every shade of red.

“Oh.” Butterflies fluttered around her stomach as Janis leaned into her, resting her head on her shoulder. Cady was never quite sure how she always did that so effortlessly, since Cady was five inches shorter than her, but Janis seemed to have the flexibility of a cat when it came to resting on her girlfriend. “Um…”

Janis squeezed her hand supportively. “I’m listening.”

Cady giggled before planting a kiss on Janis’s head. Her gaze lingered on the yellow sleeves of her own jacket for a second before she turned back to the paper. “Yellow’s a pretty color on you, by the way.”

Now it was Janis’s turn to flush. “Oh— I love you.”

Cady burst into laughter, resting her head on Janis’s. “You have a way with words.”

—

“Consider this payback,” Cady announced as she strode into the room.

Janis immediately froze, gaze falling on the paint-splattered jacket draped over Cady’s shoulders. It almost reached her knees.

A beat of silence passed as Janis regained her composure, and she said, “so that’s where my jacket went.” Cady beamed.

“It’s comfy. I’m keeping it.”

“Hey!”

Cady laughed before running across the room, throwing her arms around her girlfriend. Janis let out a startled noise, grabbing onto Cady to prevent them both from falling. “Love you, Jan.”

Janis burst into giggles, running a hand through Cady’s auburn hair before leaning down to kiss her on the head. “I love you too.”

—

adjsjsjsjsjsjwjjw

yeah I’m projecting onto Cady again bc I just want a tall gf to wear my clothes and call me smart 🥺😖

taglist: @marvinswriting @smallsoysauce @someone-online

#just.. self indulgent writing #I’ve been thinking about cadnis all day #mean girls #mean girls fanfiction #Cady heron #janis sarkisian #cadnis #cady x janis #grizzlybearwrites

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thewritingginger · 4 years

Text

Just Like Daddy!

I did a thing! I don’t know how inspiration struck me for this but it did and I thought it was really cute so I did it.

So here is a cute little Halloween idea I thought of last night :3

Fandom: Obey Me!

Pairing: Satan x Reader

Warning(s): N/A, unless fluff is one then yes

Word count: 1555 words

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“Daddy. Daddy. Daddy!!!” He hears the excited cheers and the quick pitter patter of his daughter coming around the corner ready to jump into his arms. “Yes, my love.” He coos as he scoops her up. “Daddy, I want to do the Halloween!” she exclaims very proudly. “Really? What about it interests you?” He questions not quite sure where this came from. I mean sure she has known the concept of halloween in both the human world and devildom. But never in her 5 years of life has she shown this much enthusiasm over it. “The dress up, obviously!” her words punctuated with a sass she’s definitely gotten from her mother. Satan smiles a bit at his child’s actions, “What is it that you want to dress up as?” He asks curiously.

“Well, you!”

Her words earnest, as she gazes into her astonished father’s eyes. Beaming that smile that resembles the one he fell in love with years before her conception. “Me? Why?” He follows up, still stunted by his daughter’s words. “Because you’re the most awesomest and strongest daddy in the worlds!” She says whilst making dramatic motions with her arms, bringing a warm smile to Satan’s lips.

In the corner of his eye he spots you leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, admiring the scene before you. His attention is yet again brought back to your little halfling jumping in his lap. “So can I? Pleeeeease?” She pleads. With puppy eyes, the same hue as yours, staring up at him with hope. Looking up at you slightly he closes his eyes and sighs in defeat. “Yes, you can dress up as me if that's what you wish.” His confirming words bring a brilliant smile to your daughters face. Warming his heart, your eyes lock.

“Mommy!” Running up to you to share the news you had witnessed. “Did you hear, Daddy said I can dress up as him.” The happiness in her words makes you laugh a bit. “Yes baby I did hear. I guess we will need to start on your costume then.” “Yes and you too!” She exclaims. “You want me to dress up too?” You clarify. “Yes! And daddy too!” She adds pointing towards the demon. Your face twists in humor as you look at your lover. “Well of course Daddy and I will dress up with you!” You smile, amused at the joy in your daughter and the confusion of Satan.

Putting her down you say, “Baby, how about you go ask Uncle Asmo to help design your costume.” Gently stroking her hair as she redirects to the door . “Okay!” She squeals as she joyously runs off to find Asmodeus.

You walk over to Satan as he sighs, pinching his nose bridge. “How did I get roped into this?” He’s brows quirked and eyes pleading a bit. You chuckle. Taking your spot on his lap, arm wrapped loosely around his neck. “Because you have a little girl that idolizes you!” Your words tug at his heart, as your palm caresses his cheek. “Yeah but why do I have to ‘dress up’?” He whines a bit. “Because, you love your daughter and if you didn’t it would break her little heart.” You see him falter under your words. “I know.” He sighs, nuzzling his nose into your neck. “And besides, it’s not just you she wants. We both are doing this for her.” You state pointedly, making him look up at you. A slight smirk cuts his lips, “That’s right.” You raise a brow at the devilish gleam that flashes across his eyes. “Why did those words sound more schemish, then innocent compared to before?” You shake your head with an amused grin as the blonde responds. “Oh, no reason. Just can’t wait to see you looking stupid.” He laughs as you playfully punch him in the shoulder. “What ever, you jerk.” Your words make him chuckle more as you leave the room.

~ 1 Week Later ~

It’s Halloween night and you and your daughter are getting ready to meet Satan downstairs so you all could leave to the human world. Since it will be your daughter's first time in the human world where she will be old enough to remember, she is very excited to say the least. You both have been in your room for hours getting dressed up and talking, her telling you all the things she is excited about. “And then I’m going to get so much candy tonight, so i can share it with Uncle Beelie!” You smile, listening to your child’s ramblings as you sweep on the dark shade of lipstick. Once you’re finished with your makeup, you sit back and assess your work. While doing so you hear a gentle gasp sound behind you. “You look so pretty, Mommy!” Looking up at you with sparkles in her orbs just like yours. Booping her nose, you scrunch your face “Thank you my love, but I think you are the true beauty here.” She giggles as she takes your hand. “Come on. Come on.” Her impatience shows as she tries to rush you both to the door, itching to finally go.

Satan stands at the base of the stairs in his true demon form. Looking up as he hears his daughter rushing down the stairs screaming, “Daddy. Daddy, look!” The demon of wrath's heart melts when he sees his daughter standing before him doing twirls, showing all angles of her costume. Upon her head are her little horns that resemble his, her wild dirty blonde hair framing her rosy cheeked face. She is wearing a charcoal grey long sleeve shirt, a black tutu with white dots to match his pants, black tights, black flats, a black feather boa around her neck and the finishing touch a little clip on tail with a purple tip for her own touch. Seeing his daughter so happy to be ‘just like him’, makes him overflow with pride and adoration for this gift that he was, ironically, blessed to have. With his daughter gripping his leg, that’s when his gaze falls on your form.

To say he was taken aback by your appearance would be an understatement. His jaw damn near hit the floor, his eyes drinking in your beauty. Of course he thought you were the most enchanting creature to walk all the worlds. But, he couldn’t quite help how the little black horns that rest atop your head make his knees buckle a bit. How the jet black shadow on your lids intensifies the color of your eyes. The dark shade of lipstick outlining your lips so well, tempting him to kiss them. As his gaze travels down, taking in every inch of your body. Wondering how you can be so sexy yet modest at the same time. Being fully covered in a black long sleeve, black pleather shorts and sheer black tights. Only leaving room for the imagination. Paired with a leather body harness that connects to your neck, waist, and thighs and black heeled booties for added height. Almost gawking at your being, he is snapped back to the sound of your voice. “Are you just gonna stare at me or are we gonna get going.” You state with a sly smile. “Ah yeah.” Shaking himself from his trance, “You go wait by the door, we’ll be right there.” He waves off his daughter. Taking a few steps towards you putting a strong arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. “Wow, you look...” He trails off struggling to find the words to describe you. “I look like what?” You ask, savoring this moment. “You look, amazing.” You laugh a bit, pressing against his chest freeing yourself from his grasp. Taking a few steps backwards, smirking. “If my memory serves me right I believe you had told me and I quote that you ‘can’t wait to see me looking stupid’. Does that sound about right?” You toy, enjoying the look he gives you as you throw his words back in his face. Turning around to head to the door Satan rushes to catch up with you. Pulling you to his side by your hip, “Perhaps I misjudged the situation, I admit.” You giggle, leaning into your ear he whispers. “Later tonight, remind me to request you keep those horns on.” His voice almost a low growl, “You look absolutely... delectable in them.” His words curling with sin as he grips your ass before you slap his hand away.

Ripping yourself from him once again you give him a warning look, “Do that again and you won't be getting anything tonight.” You sass. A soft chortle vibrates his chest as he watches you walk towards the door, with possibly a little more sway to your hips.

He watches as you crouched down, helping your little halfling get her jacket on. Taking another moment to be grateful for this life he has with you. And how meeting you by chance led to moments like these where he has a kin to call his own, that will look up to him like he holds all the answers. Moments that he will ingrain into his memory.

“Daddyyyy. Come ooon.” His daughter says dramatically as ever. Pulling him behind her by his hand, just like he always hopes she will.

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I hope you enjoyed this, I know it’s been a loooong ass time since I’ve posted a new work and I hope that this can help me get out of this block I’ve been in for too long.

So if you have any ideas of what other cute or not so cute 😉 Halloween works I could do I would love to hear them.

💛 ~

#shall we date obey me #obey me game #OBEY ME #obey me satan #shall we date satan #satan #satan x reader #x reader #fluff #halloween #fluff halloween

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roccinan · 3 years

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1/? simply because you have the most galaxy brain thoughts ever,,, what do you think would've happened if they waited until s5 to reveal sergio and andrés were (half)brothers?

i do know that when my fam started watching lcdp at first i was so put off. like i watched ep 1 and the prof creeped me out. ""berlin"" creeped me out. e v e r y o n e creeped me out. and i was cringing so hard becz of the short lived romance angle with alison parker. i literally did not watch s1 at all xcept for like sneak peeks. highlights being the scene where berlin discovers monica is alive and does his dramatic door by door thing? that was so SUSPENSEFUL even tho i had no idea what was going on. DOMINGO DE RESURECCION remains forever iconic.

2/? And OF COURSE the group bella ciao dance when they hit earth (hahah i thought the banda were actually like a "found family where they all love each other LOL") i am a SUCKER for found family. but anyhoo when i properly got intrigued was s2 when tokyo was kicked out (the music from that scene is still my favourite) it's just so dramatic..!! why am i telling u all this again? right, i haven't slept a wink and it's nearly 7 am pls forgive me if these rambles make no sense. i have a point with this.. i'm going somewhere

RIGHT. so when the fam actually rewound the ep cz i wanted to know WHY berlin did that (didn't fully realise how batsht crazy he can be), the russian roulette scene played. and pedro's acting. MAN. and like just that ep they made a point of showing us these flashbacks where sergio and andrés hug....

Hi anon! Thanks for stopping by- sorry took me a while to get back to you, will do my best to answer this string of messages (got all 4 parts)! Glad you like my thoughts XD

Firstly, I believe Andres/Sergio would be the biggest LCDP ship if the writers were evil enough to wait until s5 to reveal that they’re brothers asdfasdf. They’re already the two most popular male characters anyway.

It’d be especially crazy because it’s not like they tell the actors these things beforehand either. So that means there’d probably be a Serdres vs Berlermo vs Serquel fight every 5 minutes. I mean, even if not everyone agrees on everything in the lcdp fandom, it’s the most “peaceful” one I’ve ever been in because no character really gets in the way of any other ship (like even with helermo and berlermo there’s no true conflict since Andres is dead). But with Serdres in the mix?? CATASTROPHE. Everyone out here writing essays about how much of a bastard/bitch/homewrecker/motherfucker that Andres or Sergio or Martin or Raquel is. Never a moment’s peace!! so basically, a regular fandom lmao.

Then when we find out they’re brothers, it goes from catastrophe to Apocalypse. Suddenly serquel and berlermo have the upper hand. Everyone would double down and harass the crew/cast into whatever’s going on. Plot-wise, everything is the same though, just without Andres calling Sergio “hermanito.” Fandom however, would be a minefield! And I’m glad that’s not the case because I’d probably be an unfortunate serdres shippers XD No joke, my mother and I thought they were a couple in S1. So bullet dodged!

Secondly: haha, everyone creeped me out in S1 too, especially Berlin, I hated him, but thinking back, I think I mostly hated the fact that I didn’t hate him as much as I should have. I’ve made peace with it now but oh boy, was he a controversial figure in my head. I actually like the professor on sight though! IDK why, maybe because I thought his plans were cool or because of Alvaro’s delivery. I was afraid of an Alison Parker romance thing too- like, I do feel like she had a storyline that got dropped, but that part was quite cringey and overall unnecessary to the plot. Same with Ariadna, which was even cringier and even Less necessary to the plot.

Domingo de resurrecion was iconic though yes! And even with all that said, I genuinely enjoyed parts 1 and 2 because it was so different from anything else I’d seen. Not content wise, but maybe tonally? IDK, they were just really bold with a lot of things, like being objectively unafraid of having the protagonists (plural because all of them did LMAO) do objectively shitty things. Really kept me in suspense from beginning to end!

I’m usually a big fan of found families too! The funny thing is, then banda never struck me as a “family” until season 3. In 1 and 2, I was wondering what felt different about this show; then it hit me that these people remained colleagues to the end. Like, they backstabbed each other (repeatedly) and everyone was quite selfish, and only the bonds that were already there stuck. They were the opposite of a found family LOL But I think by S3, they went down the found family route and I didn’t mind because it makes quite a lot of sense for them to feel that bond after the Mint heist and almost dying/living together (and having witnessed 3 deaths together on the team). But I still doubt Berlin and Palermo were ever really part of this found family, with good reason XD

LOL the scene where Tokyo got kicked out is also among my favorites!! It was so funny and dramatic, and it was like, wow we can go anywhere with this now! Don’t worry- your rambles and thoughts are always welcome :D

I’m rolling over how you watched the Tokyo expulsion scene before the Russian Roulette scene haha. Also yes, PEDRO. Berlin may have been “controversial” to me at first, but I became Pedro’s fan from day one! Also the Hug is probably what made me like Berlin (despite my determination to hate him rip) in the first place.

3/? ... and like now that i think about it... tokyo had real guts huh. like she KNEW berlin was close enough to el prof to know his name (fhshshs imagine if she'd heard andrés saying 'hermanito' it's unrealistic that she didn't TBH. i mean obviously they decided to make them brothers only towards the end but like in canon universe. how tf did andrés de 'i raised my bby brother since he was 12 and i'd actually die for him and his stupidly brilliant plans' fonollosa go 5 months without slipping up once and calling sergio hermanito. or like,,, i like to imagine sergio kinda gave him lots of leeway(?) sergio's a lil oblivious too but like i'm sure half of it is.. that's my dumbass older bro shut up i'm not being partial you all have city names .. andr-berlin, pass the salt. like OOF. + sergio also knew his big bro was dYiNG so like. i'm sure they were sneaking in some quality time (i hope they did 😭 gosh imagine if sergio really did not ever consider the possibility of andrés dying in the heist so he'd tell himself he needs to perfect the plan now & anyway he'll have enough time to spend w/ his brother post heist in philippines. and then ... that happened :/

Tokyo has guts in place of braincells you bet that she’d do something like this, consequences be damned XD I also think it’s unrealistic for Andres not to slip up, but I have a feeling nobody besides Tokyo really tried to spy on them in private. I headcanon that Andres instead slips up and does things like ruffle Sergio’s hair or adjust his tie when other people are around. I also think Tokyo was convinced that they were a gay couple when she saw them hug XD And if Sergio never went on to tell the banda that Berlin was his brother, everyone would be giving Palermo such awkward looks after Nairobi accused him of being in love with Berlin LMAO.

I agree! I also imagine Sergio giving Andres leeway because he’s just so used to interacting with his brother that way haha. So either he’d go out of his way to ignore Berlin in front of everyone else or IDK, borderline telepathically communicate with him. Not even “pass the salt” has to leave his mouth- Berlin just puts salt into his food and cuts it up for him, in front of everyone who’s just staring like O.O

I actually do think Sergio never considered the possibility of Andres dying in the heist because he was just that confident in his own plan. Plus, Andres was probably the one person he expected to survive. And a lot of it has to do with Sergio’s attachment to him + Andres’ own habit of downplaying any illness/injury over the years, which I think is safe to believe canon. He was really in no condition to be in the heist, let alone lead it. Just the fact that he needs to take those injections is a big sign that he shouldn’t be there, but Sergio didn’t catch it because he’s human and blinded by faith :’) So yeah, I think Sergio was planning to spend proper time with Andres in Palawan and at Toledo, they just settled for those little moments by the fireplace.

4/? what always also just GETS me in the feels is that el prof was shown to be this in control creepily calm dude who is miles ahead of everyone. + in the 1st Toledo class itself we see how detached,, like how impersonal he is, how professional - choosing frickin CITY NAMES?! no 'personal relationships' ? (after recruiting his older brother, a father son pair, and war cousins... oh sergio 😂 he's such a frickin nerd and i love him) but like the earlier seasons really emphasised how robotic and down right COLD he can be. it still sometimes bothers me that he put the button in the car. he lead the police to his own damn brother, his blood, who took care of him and adopted him and was terminally ill and like - UGH i try to rationalise that sergio is that cold and unbothered. or that he has strict morals. but it still bothers me becz that button really sort of tipped andres' already unstable sanity. like andrés tells denver someth like you've robbed my future and after that he just seems so much more suicidal and accepting that he can't get out of the mint alive - WHY SERGIO WHY. I KNOW THAT AT THAT POINT YOU BASICALLY DIDN'T KNOW ANDRÉS WAS GOING TO BE YOUR BROTHER YET BECZ IT WASN'T WRITTEN IN THE SCRIPT BUT WHYYYYY

That’s so funny to me too LMAO No personal relationships, then he recruits these guys. Sergio, hello?? Also can’t forget how he just recruited his own girfrleind in the second heist too. Buddy! Love this nerd.

I don’t think that cold aspect of Sergio went away in later seasons either; he just had more opportunity to show a more open side of himself + without Andres, he had to metaphorically leave his comfort zone without a safety net. But in earlier seasons, he really did seem heartless at times XD Then again, we can argue that the same goes for Andres.

To be fair, I didn’t feel sorry for Andres over the button thing lol, but once the brothers reveal happened and all of Alvaro/Pedro’s headcanons came out and we know everything Andres did for Sergio, it makes what Sergio did REALLY harsh. We really just have to explain it through Sergio’s strict morals and him believing this to be the best non-fatal punishment for Andres, who at that point had convinced him he killed a hostage. And because he knew the television interview was coming up, maybe Sergio assumed Andres would use it to “clear” his name anyway. And empathy isn’t one of Sergio’s strong suits either, so through that lens, I can rationalize it.

Also it was lowkey funny to me how Andres was there like DENVER MUST DIE until he found out Sergio put the button there, then he was like “oh hermanito, you and your practical jokes <3″

Still, like you said, Andres and Sergio weren’t brothers yet at this point. They were probably supposed to be lovers lmao and had a dysfunctional Hannibal Lecter x Will thing going on. But because they made #hermanos canon, that button moment just feels very out of place now, especially given how much the two genuinely love each other.

Guess we could also say that Sergio’s just generally kinda bratty with Andres XD Like, he knows no matter what, Andres would forgive him anything. That’s how I see it anyway!

#anonymous #thanks for stopping by!#royalpaperhouse is this you my friend? :D

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