My dear, sweet friend, beta extraordinaire, #tumblrqueen and fellow smutkateer @burkygirl is celebrating a birthday today! This is for you, T! Thanks for making this place so very much better!
I shift my bag further up on my shoulder as I fish around in my pocket, finally extracting a deckle-edged piece of notebook paper and squinting at the messy scrawl on it.
Panem Arms, 12E.
This is a swankier hotel than I’ve ever been in before, the carpeting under my feet plush and pristine, high quality reproductions in expensive frames lining the corridor.
The room I’m looking for is in the corner, the door propped partially open, revealing an opulent space with a full wall of windows. My bag thumps against the heavy wood as I shove it open a little wider, and a voice floats towards me from somewhere deeper in the suite. “Peeta? Is that you?”
Ohh, all of those prompts are interesting. Tbh it was extremely hard for me to choose between a few, but I made my choice. 14 with Kihyun please~ Thank you in advance!!
Yasssss requests are opennn… Can you please do #14 with Kihyun and make it so that they’re in a platonic relationship but when another MX member comes over they think they’re living together cuz they’re dating??? Thanks!!! 💛
14) Looking for a roommate? Your bias is as good as any
Member: Monsta X Kihyun x Y/N
You clicked idly on your laptop, tilting your head back and forth in time with the music pumping from it’s speakers. You looked up and over the edge of the screen as a knock sounded on the door, your gaze catching the eyes of your roommate.
“Your turn,” you hummed.
“Oh shut up,” he grumbled, setting his own laptop to the side. “It’s my turn every turn.”
“Because you’re a big and strong, scary man,” you called after him as he exited the room. “You could ward off any intruders!”
“Yeah, cause the last time I checked, burglars knocked,” he muttered, turning the knob.
You chuckled to yourself as you continued to scroll through your Tumblr feed, only looking up when you heard an array of loud voices barrel through the door.
Wonho shuffled into the living area with a happy Minhyuk close behind. You froze for a moment, furrowing your brows as you looked up at the two familiar men.
“I just want to let you know that I did not invite them in,” Kihyun sighed, trailing behind the pair. “And this is indeed, a home invasion.”
“What in the hell are you holding, Hoseok?” you asked, tilting your head. You shut your laptop and moved it onto the couch before standing.
“It’s a love fern!” he smiled, readjusting to better hold the large pot in his hands. It housed a small, tree-like plant that seemed to be half-dead already.
“Well, technically it’s a ficus,” Minhyuk nodded, reaching forward and touching one of the waxy leaves. He rubbed it softly between his fingers, causing it to instantly detach from the branch with a pop. HIs eyes grew wide as he looked from the tree, to Wonho, and then back to you.
Wonho looked up as well, his smile as wide as before. “It’s a love ficus!”
“Why did you show up, uninvited I may add, with a plant?” Kihyun asked, crossing his arms as he looked at the members disapprovingly.
“To say congratulations!” Minhyuk nodded happily.
“Congratulations for what exactly?” you muttered. You shot Kihyun a worried expression as he looked on, just as confused as you were.
“Moving out of the dorms!” Wonho nodded. “And finally taking the domestic plunge! Young love deserves a love fern.”
“Ficus,” Minhyuk said quietly.
“I’m going to need you to take a step back,” Kihyun said, biting his lip. Both men nodded, taking actual, physical steps backward into the kitchen area.
“No,” Kihyun groaned. “Mentally. A verbal step back. What do you mean…young love?”
“You two,” Minhyuk nodded. “Y/N and Kihyun sitting in a tree,”
“Living d-o-m-e-s-t…ically” Wonho finished with a grin.
“I think you guys are confused,” you said slowly. “Kihyun and I…”
You looked up to Kihyun at a loss. Both boys meant well, but you and Kihyun simply weren’t together. It had never been something you had ever really even had a conversation about. Sure, he was attractive. Sure, you enjoyed spending time with him. Mostly, your friendship consisted of lowkey flirting and spicy sass, but you were under the impression that was how Kihyun acted with most everyone he came into contact with.
You hadn’t ever really considered the idea until this very moment when it felt obvious to everyone but you.
“We are very much not together,” Kihyun nodded slowly, looking from you and focusing on his two members. You winced at the way he drew out the syllables. Your expression formed an unintentional look of hurt, causing him to immediately thrust his hands before him, and shake them in defense. “But like, not saying Y/N is undateable or anything. Very appealing. Very datable. Just not me.”
Wonho and Minhyuk both furrowed their brows as they turned to look at each other. Wonho took a few steps forward, dropping the heavy plant into your hands. He crossed his muscular arms and tilted his head. “…so…what you’re saying is…”
“You aren’t dating?” Minhyuk said slowly, narrowing his eyes. “Then why did you two move in together?”
“Because I needed a roommate,” Kihyun sighed, leaning against the counter. You struggled beneath the weight of the plant and groaned. Minhyuk rushed forward and helped you place it on the ground before shooting Kihyun a dirty look.
“Then why didn’t you ask one of us?”
“I would still be living at the dorm if I wanted to live with one of you two,” Kihyun chuckled, his eyes disappearing in his cheeks.
“I’m going to pretend like that didn’t hurt my feelings,” Minhyuk murmured softly. Wonho smiled sadly at him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
“He didn’t mean it like that,” Wonho hummed.
“But I did,” Kihyun cackled. “I absolutely did mean it like that.”
Minhyuk crossed his arms and began to pout as he looked back and forth from you to Kihyun. “Can we even return a plant? What do we say? The love fern is defective?”
“No, just the relationship is was meant for,” Wonho chuckled, patting his friend on the shoulder.
“Why do you keep calling it a love fern anyway?” you sighed.
“To have the commitment of both of you taking care of the same thing,” Wonho nodded. “Not as intense as a puppy…if this dies, you’ll only be mildly inconvenienced. Not like…having to deal with a dead - ”
“Thank you for not getting us a puppy,” Kihyun grinned, his eyes meeting yours. “We would have felt really guilty about the return then.”
“I still don’t know how I return a plant,” Minhyuk said quietly, stumbling forward to pick up the large pot.
“No, no,” you clucked, pushing his hands away. “We’ll keep it.”
“But, you guys said-” Minhyuk began.
“It can be a housewarming gift,” you nodded. “We need to learn how to be a team, even as roommates. It’ll be a good thing to take care of.”
Minhyuk stood up straight and smiled. “Well…good.”
“See! It all worked out!” Wonho nodded, grinning at his counterpart. He tapped the younger boy lightly on the nose. “The plant was a good idea after all.”
“I’m still surprised you two aren’t dating,” Minhyuk sighed. “Maybe you should. People may be getting the wrong idea-”
“Oh, who gives a shit what people think,” Kihyun sighed. “We don’t need to date to be able to live in the same space.”
“It just looks prettier,” Minhyuk grumbled. “Plus you two would make a cute couple.”
“Yeah, so would you and Wonho, don’t you have somewhere to be?” Kihyun spat.
You scrunched your face, mildly offended by the ongoing conversation. You were surprised by the vehemency at which Kihyun was warding off any advances Wonho and Minhyuk attempted to make for you romantically. Granted, you didn’t know if you even felt that way about Kihyun, but to see him so put off by the idea of you two together kind of hurt your feelings.
“Matter of fact, we do,” Wonho nodded, taking the back and forth argument in stride. “I was promised sushi if I carried something heavy.”
“Right,” Minhyuk nodded. “You two want to come?”
You looked up and smirked, focusing on Kihyun. “Would that be too much like a date? I mean, I don’t want to get crazy here.”
“One, I don’t like the tone,” Kihyun sighed. “Two, I already marinated beef for dinner.”
“Can’t you cook it tomorrow?” Minhyuk whined. “We miss you.”
“No I can’t,” Kihyun whined in the same tone. “Give a man some notice next time.”
“Man? I see no man here,” Minhyuk giggled. “Other than the hungry one beside me. Shall we go then, Hoseok?”
“Sure,” Wonho nodded. “See you later, Y/N! Bye Kihyun.”
“Bye,” Kihyun muttered.
“Bye, Y/N!” Minhyuk smiled, launching forward to give you a hug. “Pity about the whole not dating thing. But it’s probably better for you that you aren’t dating that grouch.”
“I am a dream,” Kihyun croaked. “And anyone would be lucky to have me.”
“Just cause you repeat it to yourself doesn’t mean it’s true,” Minhyuk whispered quickly. “Byeeeee!”
Kihyun groaned as the front door shut and began to drag his body toward the living room. You plopped on the couch, setting your chin on your palm as you stared at the large plant now in front of you.
Kihyun sat down beside you and sighed.
“You know…it may not be like…a bad idea?” he whispered, focusing on the plant as well.
“What wouldn’t be a bad idea?” you croaked. “Getting food? Taking care of the communal plant?”
“No, I mean…you know,” he nodded, finally looking up and catching your eyes.
“No, I don’t know,” you said, shaking your head. “But please, do tell.”
“I mean…like maybe we should…” he trailed, whispering the final part of the sentence just low enough so you couldn’t hear.
“What?” you asked, tilting your head.
“Maybe we should…” he trailed. “Or something.”
“Kihyun, you have to speak u-”
“I SAID MAYBE WE SHOULD GO ON A DATE SOMETIME,” he gasped. “I mean…it’s not like the WORST idea…”
You lifted your brows, trying to hide a chuckle. “Oh? You think so?”
“It’s cool with me if it’s cool with you,” Kihyun said with a shrug. He immediately looked down to his feet. He liked to pretend he was noncommittal, but you knew he was dying inside as he waited for your response.
“You don’t think it would mess up this whole dynamic?” you asked, motioning to the apartment around you. “The whole roommate thing?”
“Well, if it does,” he sighed. “As you saw, I could have a replacement roommate in minutes.”
“You’re just so charming,” you grumbled, shaking your head. You punched him lightly in the shoulder and set him with a serious gaze. “Seriously though, don’t feel compelled because Hoseok was sprouting all of this dumb and meaningless stuff about a love fern.”
“Not meaningless! Who are we to leave a love fern without two committed parents?” he asked, lifting his brows. “Frankly, I think it would be pretty irresponsible to not date now that it’s in our house.”
“Of course,” you chuckled. “What was I possibly thinking?”
“Pfft, well I’m glad I can be here to bring you to your senses,” Kihyun nodded, the smile growing on his face. “So what do you say? After I cook dinner we go for a movie? I’ll even pay for the tickets.”
“Jees, what a gentleman,” you gasped in feigned awe.
“I may even buy you some popcorn,” he chuckled. “And maybe even try to hold your hand.”
“Ooo,” you cooed, wiggling your brows. “Do you think you’ll fake a yawn to put your arm around me?”
“I may just have to!” he said with wide eyes. He immediately dissolved into a fit of soft chuckles as you both fell backward onto the couch.
“So…we’re really going to try this…huh?” you hummed, looking up at him through your lashes.
Kihyun bit his lip as he shifted, leaning so he could better face you. He reached out, letting his arm wiggle around your lower back, and pull you in close. You nearly forgot how to breath as this new development moved into place. You had never been this close to your friend before and never thought you would be.
“Google Google Google!!!!” Wilford’s loud voice goes straight through his closed door, echoes loudly around his room and he looks up from his computer, pausing in his typing. He had been hunched over the device for hours now, trying to find different ways to upgrade himself. In the emotional way. He found himself to be… lacking, when it came to emotional standards and so he has been searching for days- when he’s not busy- for upgrades to fix this little problem. This is the first break of attention Google has had in five hours exactly since he has sat down at the computer this day.
The door bursts open a moment later and Wilford rushes inside, panting heavily with wide and excited eyes. Google looks him up and down, reading his emotions even further. Elevated heart rate from excitement, adrenaline pumping through his veins from excitement and other things from excitement. He continues to yell Google’s name until the android has had enough of it.
“Yes, Wilford?” He broke into the continuous flow of his name, head already beginning to ache. While he would normally enjoy being in the loud man’s presence any sign of strong emotion from anyone around him had begun to grind at his ears, grate at his brain and it was quite painful for the android.
“Okay okay so I was watching this show called ‘Steven Universe’-” Google’s databases kick into hyperdrive, searching up every small detail it could find about this cartoon. Intrigued as to why Wilford would be bringing it up, he tunes in more to listen- “and they do this thing called fusion-” once more he searches. Mixing or combining of two- “and I was wondering if you would try it out with me.”
All of Google’s searches abruptly stop once Wilford says this last part and his eyebrows draw together tightly. He bites down on his lip, gives Wilford a quizzical look as he thinks over what “fusion” is in this show Wilford seems so excited about. He only grows more confused once he finds the answer. “…. What?”
Wilford throws his hands up in the air dramatically. “You know, we could try and dance together!” He exclaimed and Google frowns deeply. He’s never danced before. He knows how. He knows every kind of dance there is. He’s just never done himself. “We could try and fuse!”
“Wilford, I do not think it is-”
“Let’s try anyway!” Wilford interrupted because he obviously knows what Google is going onto say. He clasps his hands in the pleading notion, opening his eyes wide like a puppy would begging for scraps. Even Google, an android that is programmed to be devoid of emotion, can never say no to Wilford. He is too boisterous. Too… filled with feeling. Perhaps Google is jealous of this fact. “Please.”
Google sighs heavily and stands up straight, brushing himself off and straightening his shirt of any wrinkles. He raises his chin slightly, not meaning to but gaining the look of superiority to Wilford. This is just how he olds himself. He doesn’t mean to look like he believe he’s better than everyone. That’s just what happens. “Fine. We can try,” he stated and Wilford claps his hands like a child.
“Okay, we need music!” Wilford exclaimed, meeting Google’s eyes and the android sighs heavily. Not everyone knows this fact but Google can play music from hidden speakers in his shoulders. Wilford is one of the few who knows this.
“What genre?” He asked with a click of his tongue.
“Hhhmmm,” Wilford hummed, twiddling with the edge of his mustache. He snaps a moment later, “How about jazz and rock?”
“Unlikely combination,” Google pointed out yet he begins to search for a playlist with a mixed assortment of the music kind Wilford desires.
“Well, I know you like rock,” Wilford began explaining and Google forgot that Wilford knows so much about his likes and dislikes. Wilford is too good at finding those sorts of things out. “But I like jazz. So, we need both, obviously.”
Google finds a playlist and chooses it, playing it at thirty percent volume. It plays jazz at first. He had clicked shuffle and so now a saxophone blares gently in the background. “How shall we dance?” He asked then, now that they have the required music.
Wilford hums once more, eyelids drifting shut halfway. “However you desire,” he replied and actually bows to the android. “You just need to be relaxed, my robot friend.”
Google can’t stifle the laugh that comes from him when he hears the stupid nickname. He clears his throat and searches through database after database, trying to find the best way to-
His hands are suddenly grabbed and he’s roughly pulled out of his thoughts. He lets out a noise of surprise just as Wilford spins him to the side. “You maybe the smartest man in the world!” Wilford exclaimed with a loud laugh. “But you obviously have no idea how to dance.”
The android scrunches his nose up and brushes himself off again, scoffing as he watches Wilford step towards him, swaying his hips and snapping. “Then how do you dance?” Google asked just as Wilford once more grabs his hands, pulling him closer as though to tell a secret.
“You don’t think,” Wilford said and Google’s eyes widen because how does one not think that’s impossible he always needs to- Wilford snaps his fingers in front of his eyes, gaining his attention. A grin is on his face. “You just… dance!”
Wilford then grabs one of Google’s hands and lets him fly out to the length of both of their arms. He’s pulled back a moment later and the android is dipped. His eyes widen when he realizes something: it’s all to the beat of the music. He focuses on the tune, the rhythm, and straightens up, grabs Wilford’s shoulders and turns him, pressing his back to his stomach. Google then leads with stepping to the side and he’s amazed at how well Wilford is keeping up with his movements. He turns Wilford back so their chests are together and he grabs one hand, twirls him and then they dip together in sync.
The music picks up in speed and so do they, footsteps moving so fast that they nearly step on one another multiple times. Google has switched to leading, twirling and dipping and moving the ways he wants Wilford to move and Wilford moves how he wants him to. A strange feeling in the android’s gut is forming- something he’s never felt before and it’s strange, new. It’s warm and an urge. He can tell Wilford has it, too, because they press closer to one another at the same time. The urge is to be closer, to never release the other man, to always continue dancing. That feeling spreads from his stomach to his limbs and brain and he feels warm, warmer than he has in over a decade.
He loves it. Never wants to lose it.
He lifts Wilford into the air and carries him, and as soon as Wilford’s feet hit the ground, laughing loudly in glee, Google can’t help but crack a smile as well, giggling softly. “Throw me, Googs!” Wilford said loudly and with so much energy Google has to. He throws Wilford and the ego does a spin in the air, throwing his arms out as he comes falling back to the android.
Just as Wilford lands back in his hands, a laughing and giggling madly, Google chuckling softly, that’s when it happens. A burst of light and warmth and energy and he can feel Wilford becoming even closer than ever before, feel his happiness and all of his emotions at once and it’s like a truck hit him.
But then, they form. They are on the ground, sitting with their legs spread apart and their hands in the middle, looking up in confusion. Thy blink slowly and flex a hand, so many thoughts and emotions circling in them at once. A strand of pink and blue hair falls into their face and they pull at it, trying to see it better but of course that wasn’t going to work. They’re smarter than that, right?
They push to their feet, feel at their face and everywhere else because they can’t believe this worked this is amazing it worked-! What an amazing discovery this is indeed. Two pairs of eyes. Two center with another beside each, on the outside. They only have two arms, disappointingly. They had been hoping for an extra pair of hands. They grab at the shirt they wear and find it to be a nice cotton candy green, a large c in the center glowing a bright red. Their pants are a bright cotton candy purple and once they find a mirror they find out it looks like someone dropped a mixture of blue and pink cotton candy on their head for hair. Their two center eyes glow a bright blue like Google’s while the outer pair are a neon pink. They blink repeatedly, wink with one pair and then the other. Amazing. They then notice the red veins in their skin, beneath their eyes and running down their neck and arms. They look like the kind of veins you find inside of an electronic but now they stick out of their skin. They feel at them curiously, finding them to be cool despite their warm glow. They lift their shirt and find that their entire torso is made of metal. If they were to open the chest plate found there, they would have discovered a machine gun courtesy of Wilford’s love of guns.
They lean away from the mirror and tap their chin because this is the time that most fusions would name themselves, right? They hum in thought, running their fingers along the facial hair on their chin. They need more facial hair.
Then, they smile because they can actually feel happy and they snap their fingers, making finger guns at their reflection. “We like fucking cotton candy!” They exclaimed and winked at themself. “Carnival Game sounds like a rad name! Let’s go with that!” They nod and snap again, turning like a runway model does, swaying their hips like Wilford.
What a wonderful feeling being them.
I had to write their fusion okay. Carnival Game is my cotton candy child and I love them so much.
Do you ship Legloas/Gimli? Also what do you think Gloin would make of the pair?
Indeed I do!
They’re lovely <3
Also did I mention how much I love height difference ships?
(I think Gloin is not particularly stoked about it when he finds out, but is ultimately told to behave by his wife, who thinks Gimli’s new BF is perfectly reasonable for an elf. Family gatherings are awkward but at least no weapons get drawn at anyone else)
Awh, yes. What a lovely pair indeed. Get ready for some OTP feels :/
5) She trains him in her fighting style. (Which definitely comes in handy later)
4) Height Difference!
3) Annie has respect for Eren, noting his ‘courage to go against the flow.’ Eren in turn greatly admires Annie, and it’s through her he becomes aware of the contradictions within the military.
2) It was hard for Eren to accept that Annie was in fact the female titan. (It seems to me he’s more forgiving of her and her actions, whereas with Bertolt and Reiner, Eren didn’t hesitate to fight them, even going as far as to promising their deaths would be slow and excruciating.)
Soulmate AU where you find your other half when you touch and blue sparks fly between you two. for ramendobe.
It happens faster then Megamind can blink, that he’s caught unaware that she is waiting for him. There’s a scuffle in the dark apartment as she pounces on him, like a predator, tears at him for retribution. Before either of them know it, he loses a glove and their hands touch, a spark glowing between them, shocking them into something new.
Her touch is warm and his heart twists in a way he never thought possible, as if all the rusty gears have finally started to turn. She must feel something too because she gasps and snatches her hand away from him.
“It isn’t supposed to be this way…” she whispers, her voice cutting the tension between them, cradling her fingers to her chest as if he seared her with his touch.
Oooh your settings/tropes lists give me so many ideas! How about superheroes/fake dating with a dash of captain charming in the mix. Please?? 😁
Title: The Savior and the Villain Word count: ~3,300 A/N: Thanks for the prompt; I hope you enjoy it! To everyone else who sent in a prompt for my follower appreciation - don’t worry I haven’t forgotten about you, I’m just slowly plugging my way through them.
The Savior spotted
with Captain Hook at Grizinski murder site. Could he be behind these gruesome
David puts down the
paper when Mary Margaret enters the kitchen. She steals a slice of bacon off
his plate before pouring herself a cup of coffee. When she spots the headline
she frowns. “Have you heard from Emma lately?“
David shakes his head.
Lately it seems like the only way he knows what Emma is up to is from the news.
He knows he shouldn’t push, but she’s retreated back into her shell after the
whole Walsh debacle and he worries about her.
invite her for dinner Sunday?” David suggests. He wonders if the promise
of a home cooked meal will be enough to convince her to stop by.
i saw the prompt “OTP is walking home in the rain. person A falls into a rly gross mud puddle. person B sits in it as well so person A doesn’t feel dumb” and went with it. 1.1k
“Oh, well that’s just great,” Dean says, stopping underneath
the awning of the coffee shop and staring out at the rain.
He reaches under his arm, fumbling with his umbrella as the
steadily increasing downpour sends a mist over his face. He silently thanks his
little brother for insisting that Dean take the umbrella with him before he
left the apartment.
“Ever the know it all, aren’t you Sammy,” Dean mumbles to
himself, opening the umbrella and positioning it over his head.
Stepping out into the traffic of people on the sidewalk,
Dean keeps to the right so he doesn’t get in the way of those scurrying to get
out of the rain. He walks leisurely, enjoying the sound of the rain pattering
against the nylon of his umbrella.
He’s humming to himself and lost in his own thoughts when he
finds himself walking behind a tan trench-coat, a mess of dark brown-almost
black hair plastered to the head of man wearing it. The guy has his collar
pulled up, and he’s staying as close to the buildings as possible so not to get
completely drenched in the rain, something he’s failing miserably at.
Dean immediately feels sorry for the guy, and he wonders how
weird it would be to offer a complete stranger the other half of his umbrella.
It can’t be too weird, right? Dean would be thankful if he was stuck outside
without an umbrella and someone offered to share. But what if the guy was a
creep? I mean, he is wearing a
trench-coat. But this is New York; People wear trench-coats all the time—
“Move out of the way, asshole!”
Dean’s internal struggle is cut short as a lanky old man
pushes past him, causing him to nearly lose his balance as his shoulder hits
the concrete of the building he’s walking along. Dean stops walking and glares
at the back of the old man’s head, yelling “Hey!” as he attempts to stop him.
The old guy keeps going though, and Dean’s mood changes from
aggravated to downright pissed when he sees the man barrel into Trench-Coat,
the other of whom was too busy trying to dodge the rain to hear the guy behind
Dean feels like he watches it happen in slow motion, the way
Trench-Coat loses his footing and attempts to catch himself on the building as
gravity pulls him face-first to the sidewalk. A huge splash accompanies a yelp
that escapes Trench-Coat’s mouth, and Dean winces in sympathy as he notices the
huge puddle the man landed in.
Laughter follows the splash, and Dean looks over to see a
group of teenagers pointing and laughing at Trench-Coat as the guy pushes
himself to a sitting position, looking down at his hands to inspect the damage
the sidewalk caused.
Dean doesn’t know why he does it, call it sympathy or call
it stupidity, but he finds himself walking toward Trench-Coat with a purpose.
He stops just shy of the guy and, loud enough so the group of teenagers can
hear, he says, “What the hell, man?”
Trench-Coat looks up at Dean, and Dean nearly gasps as
bright blue eyes meet his own. The guy looks tired, but that along with the
wet-puppy look he’s got going on doesn’t take away from how hot he is. Don’t objectify a guy when he’s in a puddle,
“Excuse me?” Trench-Coat says, deep voice sounding
“I said what the hell,” Dean says, putting one hand on his
hip, “Why wasn’t I invited to the Puddle Party?”
Trench-Coat squints at him, clearly lost, “The what? Wait—Whatareyoudoing?!”
Dean just winks as he plops his merry ass down on the
sidewalk, immediately feeling his jeans soak through to the skin. He leans back
against the wall of the building and kicks his legs out, splashing more water
on his jeans as Trench-Coat looks at him in horror.
Dean makes eye-contact with the group of teenagers across
the sidewalk, raising an eyebrow and daring them to laugh again. They look away
quickly, and Dean smirks to himself as he finally focuses his attention back to
the man beside him.
“Hi, I’m Dean.”
Trench-Coat gapes at him, looking from Dean’s face, to his
legs—which are now completely soaked—and back to his face again.
“I—You—I don’t understand what is happening.”
Dean laughs at Trench-Coat’s reaction, and he shrugs as he
reaches up to collapse his now-useless umbrella. He smiles up at the sky as the
rain pelts against his face, feeling Trench-Coat staring at him. “Thought you
could use some company.”
“So you—sat in a puddle. With a stranger.”
Dean shrugs again, finally looking back and making eye
contact with the man next to him. “Puddle Party, man.”
“I do not understand how this is a party.”
Dean rolls his eyes and sighs, “What do you want me to say?
I saw you fall in the puddle, saw those kids laughing at you in said puddle,
and decided to sit in that puddle with you so you didn’t feel dumb. Sue me.”
Trench-Coat is quiet for a moment, staring at Dean in
disbelief, before he breaks into a warm smile. “Or I could thank you.”
Dean waves him off, “Nah. You don’t have to—”
“No one has ever done something this nice for me. Let me buy
you coffee or something.”
“No really,” Dean insists, “I wasn’t expecting anything for
this. In fact, I’m kind of doing it for myself. I haven’t been in a puddle
since I was a kid.”
Trench-Coat rolls his eyes at Dean, “Well then let me just
buy you a not-thank you-coffee.”
Dean laughs, “Careful. A not-thank you-coffee could easily
be mistaken for a first-date-coffee.”
Trench-Coat considers this for a moment, before shrugging
and smirking at Dean, “We could consider it both, if you’re up for it.”
Dean doesn’t miss a beat. “Well I hope you’re not expecting
me to do stuff like this all the time,” he motions to them and the puddle.
Trench-Coat shrugs, “Not all the time, but maybe every once
in a while.”
“Well who am I to argue with that?” Dean laughs, finally
planting his hands on the ground and lifting himself out of the puddle with a
He reaches down and offers a hand to Trench-Coat, the other
of whom takes the proffered hand and pulls himself up as well. They both look
down at one another, not a dry spot to be seen on either of them, and together
they start laughing.
“What a pair we make,” Dean laughs, and Trench-Coat nods.
“Indeed. I’m Castiel, by the way.”
Dean smiles at the extended hand, small bits of rock and
debris from the puddle sticking to his skin, and he brings his own dirty hand
up for a handshake.
He talks to Clarke often. Every waking moment, in fact, of his day is spent in conversation with her soft, melodic voice. When he closes his eyes, he can even picture her standing there, her sorrowful blue eyes sparkling and her tangled golden waves framing her face like a halo.
“I wish you were real, Princess,” he murmurs when her voice first rings in the back of his mind. She chuckles, a light sound he hasn’t heard in what feels like a thousand lifetimes.
You may be crazy, Bellamy, but you’re not mad. I am real.