Thank you, @cuppa-tea-eh for that prompt! :) It was so much fun! (and whenever ‘it was fun’ it turns into… well, 3k this time. Whoops!) I also posted it on AO3 if you prefer to read it there… :)
Cho Chang. Cho Chang? Really? Cho. Chang!!
“Draco, are you alright?” Pansy was waving a hand in front of his face, scrutinising him intently. She looked worried.
“Cho Chang,” Draco muttered for the umpteenth time. Pansy sighed, letting her hand drop to her side and leaning away again.
“Yes, Draco, Cho Chang. But she said no. She’s already going with someone else.”
Draco couldn’t help but sneer. Thank Merlin Chang was already going out with Diggory! But Potter seemed to fancy her nonetheless. Draco had caught him staring at the Ravenclaw in the Great Hall several times. It made him want to dump his porridge on Potter’s head.
When he saw Potter the next day, he noticed how tense his shoulders looked, how he was walking with his head bowed. Draco would have liked nothing more than to go over there and end Potter’s misery. There were only a few minor problems. Draco had a reputation to uphold. He couldn’t just walk over there and ask him to the Yule Ball. Besides, Potter didn’t even like him.
The more Draco thought about the impossibility of ever being with the stupid Gryffindor, the angrier he got. As he watched Potter cross the courtyard, he acted on impulse. He scooped up a handful of snow and threw it with as much force as he could. It hit Potter right in the back of his head.
“Ow!” He whirled around and narrowed his eyes when he saw Draco sneering at him.
“Potter!” Draco didn’t even have to force his voice to sound gleeful, it was an automatism. “Could you be any more pathetic?” He approached Potter with a smart pace, flashing his ‘Potter stinks’ badge before he came to a halt in front of him. “How does it feel, Potter, to realise you’re not everybody’s darling?” He cackled scornfully, jutting his chin forward. “The Boy Who Lived… can’t even find a date for the Yule Ball.”
Potter glowered at him and Draco felt almost embarrassed about how much he was enjoying it.
“Oh, because everybody is begging you to go with them?” Potter said in a mocking tone. Draco straightened himself, attempting to look as superior as possible.
“Unlike you, I get to pick and choose amongst my devoted admirers.”
Draco scowled when Potter snorted.
“Right. The one devoted admirer being Pansy Parkinson. And you call me pathetic.”
Draco struggled to keep his composure. But he wouldn’t let Potter win.
“Should I build you a snowwoman, so you won’t end up alone after all? At least she’d have as much charisma as you.”
“Don’t bother, Malfoy,” Potter said gruffly. “Worry about yourself. I bet you can’t find someone other than Pansy who’d want to go with you.”
Draco felt his cheeks burn up. He didn’t want to go with Pansy but had already made his peace with it, seeing as the person he really wanted to go with wasn’t an option.
“I already told you, I have lots of choices,” Draco fumed. It was an outright lie and he suspected Potter knew it. The Gryffindor crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave Draco a speculative glance.
“Alright, let’s make a bet then.”
Draco pressed his lips together to keep himself from gaping. He squared his shoulders and forced himself to smirk.
“Sure. But if- I mean when I turn up with my date, who won’t be Pansy, you’ll kneel in front of me and kiss my hand.” Draco chuckled inwardly.
“What? I won’t be kneeling-”
“Scared you’ll lose, Potter?” Draco said tauntingly. Potter gritted his teeth.
“Fine! Since you seem to be so sure of yourself, I’ll make it easy for you. If I win, you’ll kiss your date in front of everyone! Like you mean it.”
Draco bit his lip. Potter wasn’t playing fair. He knew Pansy had a thing for Draco and she would kill him if he went to the ball with somebody else and kissed them right in front of her. But he couldn’t back down now.
“You’ve got yourself a bet, Potter,” he growled and stalked off to the Slytherin common room. What had he gotten himself into? This was bound to end badly. He knew it from the second he had agreed to this stupid bet and was proven right again when he talked to Pansy.
“What do you mean, you can’t go to the ball with me?” she screeched. Draco sighed.
“I made a bet with Potter,” he said, plopping down in an armchair.
“And that bet excludes me as your date?” She was probably going to start throwing things any second now.
“It does,” Draco replied. “Just ask Blaise or something.” It was obviously the wrong thing to say. Pansy’s face was red and blotchy, her nostrils were flared and her eyes look murderous.
“I will kill Potter for this,” she yelled and stormed off into her dorm. Draco let his head fall back and tried not to think about how Pansy would react if he actually had to kiss someone in front of her. Like you mean it. Potter’s words echoed in his head. That would be a tough sell. The only person he could imagine kissing in earnest was the one he’d had to beat in this stupid bet.
Draco looked around the Great Hall and wrinkled his nose. Finding a date to the Yule Ball had turned out harder than he had anticipated. Every single person he had asked was already taken, or at least they said they were, and time was running out fast. The stupid ball was tomorrow. His only consolation was that Potter didn’t seem to have had much luck either.
He didn’t know why he did it, what idiocy drove him to provoke Potter further, but when Potions class was over, he strode over to the Gryffindor and casually leaned his hip against his desk.
“Time’s almost up, Potter. We can do a test run if you like, to familiarise your knees to being bent.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Granger and Weasley blinking at him.
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Potter said, standing up. “You on the other hand should probably take better care of these.” Without warning, Potter’s thumb was brushing Draco’s lower lip. “They look a bit chapped. Wouldn’t want your date to cut themselves on your lip.”
Draco could only watch Potter and his friends, who were still gaping at Draco, leave the classroom while he stood there, dumbfounded and rooted to the spot. His heart was about to jump out his chest and his legs felt like he had been hit with the Jelly-Legs-Jinx.
He was still slightly swaying when he found Blaise in the library.
“Got a date yet?” he asked, putting down his quill. Draco groaned.
“No. And Potter is driving me insane!”
“Honestly, you should just ask him to be your date and be done with it,” Blaise suggested.
“You’re very helpful,” Draco barked.
“Seriously, Draco, I swear to Salazar, if you don’t do anything about it and I have to endure you talking about him every waking minute until we finish school, I will throw myself into the Great Lake.”
“You know very well I can’t do anything about it,” Draco huffed. “And I do not talk about him that much.”
Blaise gave him an exasperated look and sighed.
“Why do you even like him?”
“How should I know? I just… do.”
Shaking his head, Blaise took his quill and stuffed it into his bag.
BTS as things people in my English class have said/done
Jin: *reading Julius Caesar in group with classmates* “Oh would you look at that. Cassius is a fucking snake. Looks like you finally have a character to relate to Sarah,”.
Yoongi: “ Thy visage looks like an rampallian. That’s Shakespearean for ‘Your face looks like an ass’ ”.
Namjoon: *teacher doesn’t take up an essay they stayed up until 2:30 a.m. writing* “I SPENT ENDLESS HOURS RESEARCHING THIS TOPIC !!! I STAYED UP UNTIL 2:30 WRITING THIS PAPER !!! I NEGLECTED MY ALGEBRA HOMEWORK FOR THIS!!! …Take up my paper,”.
Hoseok: “I DIDN’T plagarize. I just borrowed their thoughts,”.
Jimin: “Great. She called on the guy that takes 3 fucking minutes to read one paragraph,”.
Taehyung: *cries while reading Romeo and Juliet* “THEY WERE SO YOUNG”
Jungkook: “*is asked to read poetry homework out loud* “Roses are red, violets are blue. I hate this school, and I don’t want to be here,”.
Dean had always thought that a good quality comforter was the most luxurious thing to wake up under. But ever since he started waking up like this, his thoughts had changed entirely.
As sunlight gently peeked through the curtains, shining a cautious soft beam of light over the queen sized bed, Dean felt Castiel’s large, black wing loosely drooped over his body. The feathers were softer and warmer than anything a comforter could ever get him, large enough to cover his upper body and part of his legs. He smiled lazily. The feathers brushed against his bare skin as he stretched and moved around to shift closer to its owner.
Castiel lay on his back, his other wing stretched out over the edge of the bed down to the floor, his naked body exposed, blankets kicked aside in his sleep. Dean looked at him from under the wing, his fingers automatically gliding over soft raven feathers and smooth lines, known little bumps and the thicker parts.
Castiel looked peaceful. His lips were slightly parted as he slowly breathed in his steady rhythm of sleep. Dean lay there for a while, observing Cas as he let the warmth and softness of the feathers embrace him. He caressed he feathers still. Dean had been mesmerized by them ever since Castiel first exposed them. They were huge, majestic, and radiated a power Dean couldn’t compare with anything else.
And yet, they looked gentle and fragile when Cas injured them and Dean picked out the ruffled feathers. Castiel had taught Dean how to groom them and use the preen oil, an activity Dean found himself to enjoy, often compared with soft chatting. Sometimes a movie would be playing in the background as they sat on the floor and Dean plucked feathers, pressing kisses in the crook of Castiel’s neck.
Sometimes, Dean would take it a step further with his massages, out to get the little whimpers and groans from Castiel. He’d ended up with a panting, desperate Castiel several times, Dean’s hands full of feathers and his own body filled with arousal.
He loved it all. The quiet moments, the loud ones, the moments when Castiel held Dean with his wing or when they lay on the couch, curled up together with Castiel’s wings wrapped around them. Dean couldn’t get enough of them.
Castiel muttered softly and stirred, his eyes opening slowly.
The wing draped over Dean fluttered and shifted in Dean’s fingers. Cas turned to look at Dean, blinking the sleep from his eyes. The angel smiled.
“Morning sunshine,” Dean whispered and his own lips curved as well. Castiel made a soft noise and shifted closer. He stretched his wings for a moment, then covered Dean with his right one again and pulled him closer with the wrist of his wing.
“Good morning, Dean,” Castiel muttered, his primary feathers rustling. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah,” he answered and pressed a sloppy kiss to Castiel’s unshaven jaw. “How couldn’t I, hm?” He slipped his fingers into the pack of feathers carefully, and Cas smiled again.
“You seem to enjoy my wings a lot.” They moved again.
“I think they’re beautiful, you know that.”
Castiel shifted and pulled his wing in, gesturing his head. Dean understood and he got up so Cas could slide his wing under Dean. As soon as Dean sank down into the feathers, Castiel pulled him closer.
Dean’s naked body pressed softly against Cas, covered by the angel’s wing and casting a shadow over their faces.
Dean kissed Castiel’s jaw again, pressed a few more kisses down his neck and shoulder.
The wings replied to the touch, shifting and shuddering when Dean softly nibbled on the skin.
“It’s rare for an angel to show his wings this… casually.” Castiel spoke, his voice still thick with sleep. His eyes were closed again, enjoying Dean’s kisses. “It’s only for… special occasions. And special people.”
Dean looked up and feathers softly brushed over the back of his head and Cas looked back. He softly rested his hand on Dean’s waist. “You’re special, Dean.”
Dean didn’t know how to reply, shy suddenly. He smiled a coy grin and pecked Castiel’s lips.
“Think I’m glad about that.” He muttered, shifting back into the feathers. This was how Sunday’s had to feel, he thought. Calm and peaceful and warm and right.
He found Castiel’s hand and tangled their fingers together.
“Maybe we should get up for some coffee soon. I’m sure Sam’s already awake.” Dean whispered, his eyes closed.
“Probably,” Cas answered. “Just- not yet.”
Dean hummed in agreement and gently slid his free hand through the silky feathers. He didn’t want to think about the case they were working on or the monsters they had to fight. Not yet. Just a few more minutes.
CastielXReader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester
Word Count: 1980
A/N: Jealous!Cas with
a hint of Dom!Cas for extra spice. Public sex. Adult/NSFW/smut warning!!! A little fluffy,
because I don’t know how to write Castiel without the fluff. I am not ashamed of this.
laughter rose above all else - the din of bar conversation, the clinking of
glass, the sloshing of alcohol, and the classic rock humming on repeat from the
jukebox. It needled at the patient reserve of the angel isolated in a dimly lit
corner. Castiel’s steel-blue eyes smoldered - fixed on the raven-haired man in
a well-fitted suit situated at the bar - lids burdened with disdain.
hair flirtatiously tossed, teasingly dragging your lower lip through biting
teeth, fingers playing with the lapel of the man’s coat, you exuded virility.
pitch of your giggle pierced the seraph more painfully than any angel blade
could - fuel to the flame, his fiery gaze flared, the wrath directed towards
this stranger barely contained in tightly wound muscles primed to snap. Cas
observed you dance this dance before – the choreography a festering lesion seared
into his memory. Next, you would excuse yourself on some pretext to reapply
needless makeup and straighten already perfectly mussed hair. Upon returning,
you would whisper something meant only for the stranger’s ears, yet also perceived
by angelic ones - an invitation to call it a night and join you in your motel
room. The rare evening such as this one, witnessing you escape the rigors of
the hunter life into a stranger’s arms, was nearly overwhelming. The angel seethed
with envy, longing for those words to be uttered from your honeyed lips - spoken
only for him. But you didn’t look at him that way, and never laughed so freely
when he spoke.
another effect of infantilizing trans men is that you’re (probably 100% unintentionally) pushing them into feeling forced into performing toxic masculinity so they don’t appear weak, so they aren’t compared to children or puppies, so they’re not just ‘soft cute sweet adorable pure bundles of fluff’
it pushes people into thinking the only way they’ll be accepted as another guy is to uphold rigid stereotypes of masculinity and become rough and imposing so they’ll be considered anything but a soft and vulnerable smol baby
(this is at least what i’ve seen many trans women say from their experiences & their posts) constantly using language of brutal submission to trans women and forcing acts of violence onto their character without taking into account who they are as people ‘step on me/beat me up!!!/goddess who could kill me and i would be happy’ can push an even harsher pressure on performing femininity for them when society is already forcing that
being trans isn’t about conforming harshly and at the will of others to gender roles in order to be respected with language that’s not dehumanizing or infantilizing or fetishizing, it’s just about wanting to be respected and to be able to live happily how we feel comfortable presenting ourselves and who we are. there are so many things i want to do, that i want to wear and enjoy, but language like this terrifies me into not trying things out, into being what people want me to be and want to see me as based on stereotypes than what i want for myself just so that i’ll have my basic humanity respected and it should not be that way
So this short one shot is a combination of a venting piece, and something that was inspired because @solbabydraws always makes me want to draw Percy Jackson stuff. It feels like sometimes people in the fandom (Not Solbaby! Just other writers I’ve read) and people in general seem to forget that Percy (And pretty much all guys, trust me) also appreciate kind words and can be sensitive. It’s okay to not always be tough folks, and that’s coming from a guy who gets through most of his problems by just toughing it out. We all need to hear kind words sometimes. Sometimes teasing can get to people, even if it’s light hearted. (It’s certainly getting old for me at work sometimes…) Ironically this is also released on MentalHealthAwareness day so there’s that too. Anyway, sorry for the mini rant, enjoy!
Glaring at his pencil, Percy wondered
how mad Annabeth would be if he snapped her mechanical pencil in
half. Knowing her however, he figured it wouldn’t be worth the scowl
and bickering for a few seconds of tension relief.
Setting down the pencil onto his “extra
homework” he dropped his head onto the table to avoid the
temptation of causing property damage for Annabeth. If he wasn’t so
utterly in love with Annabeth, there was no way he would be doing
extra homework during their summer vacation. Not even the gods could
have convinced him of this task.
They were preparing to finish their
senior year, then go to college together. However, Annabeth had
warned that Percy needed to be on top of the ball to ensure there
were no academic problems that could interfere. Of course, Percy had
already used up all his strikes, and them some, so it was really down
to the line. Annabeth had been helping him, and promised to make it
up to him later for studying so hard now.
Of course Annabeth had been the best
studying partner. Bringing him snacks occasionally, explaining things
in her wonderful confident, yet patient tone. Not to mention the
brief study breaks that usually ended out in make-out sessions.
Annabeth had some other tasks to attend
to for the day, leaving Percy to study and work on the next section
of the workbook on his own. Promising to bring him a treat when she
was free later, she had the utmost confidence in her boyfriend that
he could finish the work.
Percy had also been pretty confident
that he could do it alone. At least until his day had decided to
spiral progressively downwards. Raising his head slightly, he let it
drop with a soft thud on the table. Repeating the action, he thought
back to what had started this hellish day.
Disclaimer: Works marked with * are rated explicit for sexually explicit content and/or other adult themes. Works marked with <> feature a non-gender specific character. The works are in order from oldest to newest under each category.
Series Illuminate I. No Promises* - He needs her more than anything else, he needs to be close, to be touched and held. He needs nails grazing his skin and teeth dragging along his shoulder. Because he feels a little less like a machine, and a little more like a person when he’s with her. All despite her tenacious attempts to keep him distant from her.
II. Patience Like This* - “I care about you. More than I want to. And that scares me. It scares me so much that I sometimes wish we’d never met. I hate that you make me feel this way. You kind of drive me nuts. But somehow I still want you. You mess me up so bad and I still want you.”
Atlas: Senses I. Touch* - “I wanted to stay. I wanted to fight for us, but you wouldn’t let me. You just left and took the easy way out.”
Pairing: Analogical (Anxiety/Logic), side Royality (Prince/Morality)
Genre: Soulmate AU, High School AU, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort
Word Count: many 8.6k (the k stands for kill me)
Warnings: panic attack, like a paragraph dedicated to this One Shove, heaps of swearing (courtesy of Anx) and uh… I think that’s it?
Soulmates share an emotional bond where they can feel what the other is feeling. That has always been just an unimportant fact that Virge has lived by. It was the same as someone saying ‘water is wet’ or ‘the sky is blue’. When Virgil’s old neighbour moves away and Logan’s family moves in, things start changing.
a deep sigh and rubs his temples in a weak attempt to order his
thoughts. It feels like a goddamned roller coaster in there and he
really doesn’t know what to do.
“It’s just … it should be easy,
right?” he continues, shaking his head. “They’re just words.
Granted, huge words. Words I never said before to another
person outside of my family. But …”
He pauses, looking at the big golden
eyes in front of him that study him expectantly.
“What do you think, man?” Dean
asks. “Am I a coward?”
No reply, just an intense stare.
“Or am I crazy?” Dean suggests.
“For talking to a frigging cat of all things!”
Mojo finally decides to blink …
and stays quiet.
“I am crazy!” Dean
groans, throwing his hands into the air. “Instead of facing my
boyfriend and telling him that I love him, I’m talking to his cat who
likes to chase flies and lick his butt all day. That doesn’t make any
Mojo tilts his head – and damn,
he does look a bit like Castiel that way – and eyes Dean in that
typical humans-are-quite-weird way. He did it the very first
time Dean came over – the night after his first date with Castiel,
him being all jittery and jumpy, wondering whether the ‘tea’ Castiel
offered him at the front porch with a warm smile before inviting him
in actually meant a hot beverage or something completely different,
his nerves all over the place – and Mojo obviously thought him the
weirdest person on the planet.
(By the way, the 'tea’ actually
turned out to be tea. That … and the best first kiss ever!)
Since then Dean’s relationship with
the cat is kinda reserved. Mojo mostly stays out of sight or at least
far away, just staring at Dean as though he hopes that this odd human
would finally disappear and never return. There is wariness and
suspicion and Mojo only condescends to ignore all this when he’s in
the mood for some proper petting.
“You don’t care about my problems,
right?” Dean sighs. “I mean, you’re a cat, why should you? You
probably think I’m dense for not having the nerve to tell my
boyfriend – my beautiful, gorgeous amazing boyfriend – that I’m
hopelessly in love with him. That the last few months had been the
best of my life. That I’m, without any doubt, the luckiest guy
He shuts his eyes for a second.
“He’s so awesome, you know? Everything I ever hoped for and at the
same time so much more! I’m so crazy about him, you’ve got no idea.”
He fidgets awkwardly. “But how do I tell him all that? I’m so awful
at the feelings-crap and as soon as I look into his pretty eyes I’ll
forget anything I wanted to say.”
Mojo dignifies Dean’s little
meltdown with a big yawn and an I-couldn’t-care-less
Dean, however, just lets it pass.
“How do normal people do it? Just say it right into the person’s
face?” He bites his bottom lip in frustration. “How?”
“There are some who talk about it
with their boyfriend’s pet,” suddenly a very deep and very familiar
Dean leaps to his feet immediately
and stares at Castiel with wide eyes. “Cas!”
Of course he shouldn’t be surprised
by his boyfriend’s presence since this is Castiel’s place after all
and he only left to run a small errand, even reassuring Dean that it
“won’t take long”, but for some reason Dean totally missed how
much time already passed.
Castiel, however, seems highly
amused. “So that’s what you’re doing when I leave the house? Having
deep and meaningful conversations with Mojo?”
The cat merely spares them a brief
glance before starting to lick his paws and ignore them in a way only
cats manage to do.
Dean smiles crookedly. “He’s
actually not the best to talk to.”
Castiel takes a step closer and
chuckles. “Don’t worry, I’m doing the same thing all the time.”
Dean lifts an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yes.” Castiel cups Dean’s
cheek, his fingers so warm that Dean instantly leans into the touch.
“Just yesterday I told him how much I love my boyfriend.”
Dean’s heartbeat picks up its pace
rather spectacularly and he can’t contain a beaming grin. “You do?”
Castiel hums in affirmation, his
nose brushing Dean’s. “Very, very much.”
The kiss that follows is sweet and
soft and it makes Dean’s skin tingle in the most pleasant way
“I love you too,” Dean whispers
before surging right back in.
And on the couch Mojo continues to
groom his fur and probably wonders why humans are so annoyingly