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idylls-of-the-divine-romance · 2 days ago

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I never said he was political. What I said was "His followers then went on to live in voluntary communism", which is an objective fact of the Jerusalem centered community of the Early Jesus Movement.

The definition of communism (lowercase c): "a form of economic organization in which private goods are held in common by a community"

Twice in the Book of Acts does it say that the "And the multitude of those who believed were of one heart and being; and not one was saying that anything belonging to them was their own, but all things were common property to them. And with great power the apostles were giving testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and abundant grace was upon them all. For there was not a needy person among them, for all who were owners of land or houses would sell them and bring the prices of the things being sold and lay them at the apostles’ feet, and they would be distributed to each to the extent that any had need."

Now, one of my bible commentaries (NIV) would say this isn't communism because:

"the sharing was voluntary" This doesn't make it not communism - a form of economic organization in which private goods are held in common by a community. That is literally what this is.

"it didn't involve all private property, but only as much as was needed" Scripture doesn't say that, nor are their any hints or hyperlinks that suggest such. We could reason that this is an example of exaggeration to make a point (see: Solomon's wealth) but I don't really think that's necessary. It is quite possible that in fact most of the people in the Jerusalem district of the Early Jesus Movement decided that the best way to live at the teachings and message of Jesus, the Torah and the prophets, was to live together as a communal group.

"it was not a membership requirement to be a part of the church" Ofc not, which is what makes it better! This wasn't motivated by any political or economic theory, any more than Jesus' life was motivated by political philosophy: it was koinonia rooted by agape - other centered, life giving love from me to you that causes me to lay down my life for you.

(Side note: I do not think it's a coincidence that Jacob/James who was leader of the Jerusalem church wrote the way he did on wealth. It is clear that there was some sort of issue in the socio-economic reality of Jerusalem, likely centered in oppression of employees and heavy taxes as well as ethnic differences, that the early Christians were NOT a fan of).

Also all of this makes perfect sense tho. You can say whatever you want about Jesus not being political (and I won't address that because we'll need to define that word and this post is long enough) but there is something undeniable: Jesus, and also the rest of his Galilean disciples, were not a fan of people who lived comfortably on their wealth while other's went hungry. Which is incredibly uncomfortable for me (it actually put the fear of God in me a few weeks ago) but it is what it is.

Now. I am not a communist and never have been, not because the scriptures ever condemn communism, but because the human heart is wicked above all things and is irreversibly sick without the Spirit giving them a new one (see: the entire Tanakh). I do think there is a reason why when the government decides to implement communism it ends in dictatorship. Instead, I've been looking into Catholic Social Teaching and find Distributism to be interesting.

That said, I think local Christian communities can and should absolutely consider whether they wish to live communally together and what that would look like for them. And no matter what all Christians must change the way they look at their possessions.

Other Christians: Yeah I’m a Christian, but don’t worry, I’m normal.

Meanwhile, Christian Tumblr: I worship a triune God who emptied themself to become a human. He was born a poor teenager and grew up in poverty and at risk of homelessness. He was fully God and fully Human. He taught and lived in radical indiscriminate self giving love and subversive peaceful resistance of oppression. He fought the cause of the widow, orphan, immigrant, poor, and oppressed. He loved the sinner so much they left their sin and followed him, and reconciled both the government allying capitalist and the rebel freedom fighter to harmony in himself. He invites us to take his prescience into ourselves by eating his flesh and drinking his blood. My God then enthroned himself as the exalted king of the world by dying the death of a cursed blaspheming slave. He then rose from the dead and decided his first witnesses would be women, whose witness is worthless in court. His followers then went on to live in voluntary communism, to advocate radical generosity, to destroy ethnic barriers, to elevate the inherent humanity of women and the enslaved, to self identify as exiled and enslaved refugees and pilgrims, to equate God with Love, to diagnose the government as a necessary evil worth responding to with equal parts submission and resistance, and to make the preposterous claim that we conquer the world by giving our lives in self sacrificing love. In my faith, normalcy is heresy.

#anyway #capitalism is idolatry (see: treating profit as god and productivity as the highest virtue at the expense of fellow humans and environment)#the church is a socio-political institution #(“politikos” is the terms to which we all commit to live together)#a multi-ethnic covenant people bound by their allegience to jesus ans his love for them that is so radically different value system #creating peace and justice in radical ways #so to say jesus is “not political” is wrong from an etymological standpoint #as well as historical #the church is a political institution and thus should create an economic reality #on both a small scale (christians should live in modesty and radical generosity with their neighbors and the marginalized)#and on a larger scale (see: distributism)#christianity is very much political. to the point where if anyone was to ever ask me what my political stance was on anything #my answer would be “jesus is lord”. the same answer as the apostles. this is both a theological claim and a political one

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redisthenewblue · 1 day ago

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JESSICA RABBIT like YUU X DORMLEADERS

(This focuses more on Jessica’s personality than her looks!)

So, he probably heard about you from Cater or Ace. When he first spotted you hanging out in the Monstro Lounge—singing and pouring drinks—poor guy didn’t even know how to handle himself! At first, he had his own thoughts about you, but eventually, he warmed up. I mean, when you hit him with that classic line, "I’m not bad, I’m just drawn that way," he totally fumbled his words and turned a shade redder than his hair!

He starts to relax a bit with the rules when you’re around, but if you’re up for the challenge of learning all 810 of them (or at least a third of them, which I bet you are), that’s a wholeee different story! Anytime someone shows a little too much interest in you he’s like, “OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!” Like he loves having an attractive , amazing, dare I say HOT partner but damn is there a lot of things that come as a consequence of such blessing.

And don’t even get me started on how he reacts when you entertain Deuce and Ace’s wild ideas. He loves you to bits, but honestly, you’re stressing him out! Someone save him from the shackles of love🥹‼️

You remind him of the Lionesses back home, embodying their fierce spirit and strength. He never underestimates your capabilities, especially after witnessing someone get their arm caught in a bear trap while attempting to make advances toward you. If anyone crosses the line, he is always prepared to intervene, although he typically ensures that such situations never escalate to that point in the first place.

Your unwavering loyalty is undoubtedly one of his favorite qualities; you are always ready to defend him and are unafraid to remind him to get a grip when necessary. A significant turning point in your relationship came when you allowed him to rest his head on your lap, and this simple act gradually transformed into a cherished routine between the two of you.

Ruggie frequently reaches out to you, expressing his frustrations about Leona and pleading for your assistance in dragging him out of bed and into class.😭 Depending on Leona's mood, he might even pull you down into the bed with him, making it difficult to escape. During nap time, he wraps his tail around your leg like a makeshift sensor, ensuring you remain by his side and do not attempt to leave the bed. Unfortunately, this means you have to say goodbye to your perfect attendance.(RIP)🫡🪦

You and Azul first crossed paths when Floyd and Jade hired you, unbeknownst to Azul, to perform at the Mostro Lounge. After witnessing your debut performance, Azul was so impressed that he promptly offered you a contract, recognizing the influx of new customers you attracted. However, he often feels a twinge of insecurity around you; after all, you are one of the most stunning individuals he has ever encountered (Don’t tell Vil he said that💀)

Adding to his struggles, Jade and Floyd constantly bully😭 tease him, making it nearly impossible for him to focus on his work whenever you're nearby. There was a particularly memorable moment when you accidentally walked in on him changing, prompting him to hide away in embarrassment. Your warm embrace brought him to tears, showcasing the depth of his feelings for you.

In a narrative reminiscent of a mafia boss and his devoted, sweet wife, Azul deeply appreciates your willingness to get your hands dirty in his defense. While he may occasionally take advantage of your fierce loyalty, the silver lining is that you are never entirely constrained by your contracts!🤫

He would totally go above and beyond for you. Out of nowhere, gifts would just show up on your doorstep, which was sweet but also a bit much. You had to remind him that he didn’t need to shower you with presents, but he just couldn’t help himself—everything that reminded him of you ended up in his cart. It got so excessive that Jamil had to step in(per usual)

“Jamil! Do you think they’ll love this?!” Kalim would ask, all excited. And Jamil would just roll his eyes, “You know how they feel about you buying them stuff.” EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU JAMIL‼️‼️

You know you’re always going to be his go-to when he throws a party at the dorm. The whole time, he just clings to you like a koala, and honestly, it’s kind of adorable.

But things got a bit intense when you almost lost it on Jamil after he overblotted and tried to go after Kalim. Ever since then, you’ve kept your guard up around him. Kalim assured you that everything was cool and that there were no hard feelings. He was pretty happy when you said you’d try to move past it for his sake. But let’s be real, that grudge? Not going anywhere. 💀

Absolutely DANGEROUS couple‼️Like the paparazzi just can’t get enough of you two! You’re probably being followed around everywhere with cameras in your face.

Let's be real, you two must be making music together because when you do, those tracks are hitting the TOP 10 on the BILLBOARD charts in no time! Honestly, you guys are just an absolute power couple, and I applaud you for it(I’m jealous)🫡

But seriously, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near Neige. You go to a ball as his plus one and Neige was there? He pulled out every excuse imaginable to get you away from the guy. Like, “I want to introduce you to a co-star of mine,” or dragging you away and saying“Here’s a good friend of mine!” Come on, buddy, you’re not slick😭

He’s just trying to protect himself from losing anything else to Neige. Please, give him a little reassurance (I’m begging you😞).

So, imagine this: a total gamer who's kind of a loser, but somehow he snagged a super hot girl—like, how did he pull that off? I'm honestly a bit confused about how you guys even met since he rarely leaves his room. But if you two ever did bump into each other, you’d totally be the oddest yet cutest couple around! This relationship is probably the closest to Roger Rabbit and Jessica.

You always listen to him go off about his games, and I mean, these rants can get up to four hours. Trust me, he’s not going anywhere if it’s not with you. His hair definitely turns pink whenever you stand up for him or tell a waiter they messed up his order.

He totally fell harder for you when he saw how you interacted with Ortho. You two hit it off right away and became besties, teaming up to coax Idia out of his shell more. Honestly, it’s just one big happy family! 🥹

So, he was super interested in you, right? Lilia had to really push him to make a move and talk to you, even though you might’ve had the reputation to be a bit unapproachable. But hey, that’s probably why you two clicked so well once you finally met! You both totally bond over the fact that no one really wants to come up to you, even if the reasons are different. It just works out perfectly!

When you joined his gargoyle club, he had to seriously hold back a giggle like a school girl. And let’s be real, even though you weren’t really into gargoyles (he could definitely tell🥸), you showed up to every single meeting, listening to him go on and on about those stone creatures. It’s like he’s convinced that you’re the one for him. So, when people start calling you Lady Draconia, just know that this was no mistake 😭

But here’s the thing about dragons: they get super protective over their mate. If anyone tries to mess with you, they're immediately struck down by lightning. He gets all confused when you shake your head and frown, telling him you could’ve handled it on your own.

#Twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst X reader #twst wonderland x reader #JessicaRabbit!Yuu💋

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yuikomorii · 2 days ago

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AYAYUI IDOL AU: Chapter 3

// Sorry for the delay; I had some things to take care of, so I couldn’t focus on writing the fanfic. But~, I finally finished the 3rd chapter and even started working on the 4th one… ohoho, that one’s going to be interesting. 👀

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Place: Rejet Labels building

Ayato: A hotel, huh? Well… whatever they will make us do there, it can’t be that bad, right?

Subaru: Dunno about you, man, but as soon as I know I’m being filmed, I’m pretty much doomed to mess it up.

So yeah, it actually is that bad for me!

Ayato: Haa… relax a little, will you?

At least you’re not going to be stuck on the farm like the Hyung line. If you think working at the hotel sucks, imagine milking cows in the middle of a mud pit!

Subaru: Eww! G-Gross!

Ayato: Yeah, exactly! So, quit whining!

Subaru: Heh, I gotta wonder how they even convinced Reiji to go there. Knowing him, he wouldn’t last five minutes in a place like that!

Ayato: I bet the manager kept the farm thing a secret. If Shu knew, he would have faked being sick in a heartbeat!

— someone spies on them —

???: Hmm…

Kanato: Laito, what on earth are you doing?

— Laito flinches —

Laito: Oh my…— Kanato-kun, didn’t your parents teach you about not interrupting people when they’re in the middle of something~?

Kanato: Well, I’m sure your parents made it very clear that spying on people isn’t appropriate either, but here you are, completely ignoring that little life lesson.

Laito: Nfu, touché.

Kanato: Now tell me, what is this all about?

Laito: Nothing important~. I’m just trying to figure something out.

Kanato-kun, don’t you think Ayato-kun has been acting a bit… different lately?

Kanato: That depends. What exactly do you mean by "different"?

Laito: Isn’t it obvious? It feels like he started ignoring me.

Kanato: That might just be your imagination.

Laito: Hmm… Something still doesn’t sit right with me.

Kanato: If this is causing you so much concern, it would be best to ask Ayato directly what’s going on with him.

— rolls eyes —

Laito: ( You don’t get it. )

Place: Hotel

Co-worker 1: They’re on their way!!

Co-worker 2: Someone, pinch me! I’m about to faint!

Yui’s monologue

Today is the big day!

The hotel staff has been working tirelessly ever since they got wind of the idol announcement.

They’ve been running around, handling everything with meticulous attention to detail, so as to make sure that everything runs smoothly.

I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that I’ve only been in Tokyo for less than a week, and now I’m about to meet two members of one of the biggest groups at the moment.

It somehow feels surreal…!

Although, I really do wish Hana-san could be here as well… She’s the one who deserves to see Ayato-san in person more than I do. But, I suppose there’s nothing that can be done about it.

For this reason, I genuinely hope I’ll be able to get that autograph for her.

Receptionist: This is bad, this is really bad!

Yui: …!

Did something happen?

Receptionist: Unfortunately, yes! Our porter fell down the stairs while getting ready and broke his ankle.

He won’t be able to come in today, and with all positions already filled, it will be impossible to find a replacement!

Yui: Oh no… That’s awful!

( Everyone has put in so much effort to make this day perfect, and it’s just so unfair for something like this to happen out of nowhere! )

But... is there really no one available to pick the luggage and take the boys to their rooms? I don’t think it would take too much time, and the person could easily get back to their usual tasks afterward. Surely someone can step in, right…?

Receptionists: If you’re so confident about that, why don’t you volunteer then?

Wait— That’s it! You could totally do that!

Yui: M-Me!?

( This is not the way I was going for! )

Receptionists: Exactly!

You're a work-exchange girl, right? Your role in these tasks isn’t as crucial as an actual employee’s, therefore your presence isn’t that essential.

That means you could skip whatever task you're doing and step in as the porter today before anyone even notices!

Yui: ( Did I just get called ‘useless’ indirectly? )

I… I would love to help in this situation, but, I’m sorry, I’m not qualified enough for such a job.

( I doubt I would be able to carry the luggage to begin with. Who knows how heavy they are with everything packed inside? )

Receptionists: I beg you, Komori-san!

If you’re worried about whether a girl can handle it, these boys will just stay until tomorrow. They most likely won’t have a lot with them.

Yui: Uuh…

( If it’s just for one day… )

— sighs —

Alright, I accept.

Receptionist: Thank you… Thank you so much!

If there’s any way I can repay you for this, just let me know!

Yui: Ah, there’s no need to. I know you’ve all been working hard for this, so it’s the least I can do.

Receptionist: Well, on a positive note, you'll be the one leading the boys to their rooms, which definitely makes you luckier than the rest of us.

I think this experience alone is rewarding enough, fufu.

Yui: …!

( Wait, I hadn’t really thought about it like that— This will be the closest anyone in the hotel gets to them today, won’t it? )

( I know I should be excited about it, especially since I’ll be able to ask for that autograph for Hana-san, but... ah, I’m feeling so nervous all of a sudden! )

Receptionist: ( The limo arrived! )

Komori-san, go to the hallway!

The driver will soon bring their luggage there, where you’ll have to wait for them. Once they enter, the hallway entrance will automatically close, and then the three of you will head towards their room.

— lends her keys —

I hope the instructions were clear enough. Good luck!

— Yui nods and quickly leaves —

Place: Hotel hallway

Yui: ( Phew, I can’t believe I made it in time. )

( I’m already starting to hear voices, so they must be clo—— )

— entrance opens —

Yui: …!

Ayato: ( Is that… a girl? )

Subaru: ( Hah!? Who even thought it would be a good idea to make a girl a porter? Can she even lift our stuff—? )

Yui: ( No way… they’re even more handsome in real life…! )

( I’d better avoid looking at their faces, otherwise I’ll get too nervous to even concentrate! )

W-Welcome to the “Yume no Mori” hotel. It’s a pleasure to have you here!

— bows and takes luggages —

( Hooh… heavy! )

Please, follow me.

— they start walking —

Subaru: ( Dunno if it’s just me, but I’m low-key starting to get second-hand embarrassment watching her struggle like that. )

Ayato: ( Why would they even hire such a weakling for this type of job? I thought this was supposed to be a 5-star hotel, but maybe they’re just out of budget or something? )

Yui: ( The receptionist told me they’ll be leaving tomorrow, but what on earth did they even pack in these things? My arms feel like they’re about to fall off! )

Subaru: Oi! You… Do you need help?

Yui: Eh?

— looks up —

Ayato: ( Subaru, what are you doing? )

— brushes his hand off —

Can’t you see? This is her responsibility, not yours, so let her do her job.

If she’s not capable of taking it seriously, then she just shouldn’t be working here anymore and risk damaging the hotel's reputation.

Yui: ( Such cold words… )

( While it’s true that I’m not cut out for the porter job, saying something like that to someone is simply uncalled for…! )

A-Anyway, thank you, but there’s no need to. We just arrived to your room.

— opens door and hands them keys —

By the way… I would like to apologize for my poor performance.

The truth is, I am deeply grateful for this opportunity and I——!

*THUD*

( Did they just… slam the door in my face? )

Place: Hotel room

Subaru: Man, the hell’s wrong with you?

Ayato: With me!? You’re the idiot who offered to do her job in the first place!

Subaru: I was just trying to help, okay!? Am I not allowed to do anything without getting chewed out for it now?

Ayato: Tch… you’re so oblivious that it’s giving me a headache. This person works at one of the most prestigious hotels in Tokyo, she should know better!

Imagine putting your trust in someone, only for them to screw up so badly that it could end up destroying everything.

Subaru: But she didn’t even screw up, she was just struggling, that’s all!

Seriously, what’s going on? All this time, you’ve been known as the friendliest person to the fans. You even helped the bodyguard hold the concert fence, for crying out loud!

So what’s with this sudden shift in attitude, huh?

Ayato: That’s…— Well, things have changed! There’s a lot more going on behind the scenes that you don’t even see.

If I keep acting as I once did, the consequences won’t just fall on me—they’ll affect all of us, understood!?

( I just can’t afford to be selfish again… The choices I make now have an impact on others, and I have to be more mindful of that. )

Subaru: I mean… if you put it like that, it makes sense, but you still shouldn’t lose yourself in the process, y’know?

At the end of the day, no matter how much someone screws it up, we... we’re a team, so yeah, we’ll have to find a way to fix it together, I guess.

( Damn, I'm really not good at putting these things into words! )

Ayato’s monologue

"We’re a team."

Those words are supposed to be reassuring, but why do they only make me even more nervous…?

What will truly happen if I put the group in danger, huh? Will they really back me up, or just turn their backs on me?

Shu doesn’t seem like the type to overlook such mistakes—he basically said as much the other days.

As for Reiji and Kanato… Yeah, forget it. They’d make it sound even worse.

And Laito… he’s the one I’ve always been closest to, but even with him… I don’t know. A part of me can’t shake the feeling that if it came down to it, he’d take their side too.

So that only leaves Subaru.

However, knowing him, he’d probably just end up jumping on the bandwagon too. No way that guy would want to be seen as my accomplice or something like that.

Haa… that would indeed be an uncomfortable situation.

After all, no one likes to have shade thrown at them.

…!

( Wait—! )

( Exactly! No one would like that! )

— stands up and heads towards door —

Subaru: Oi, where are you going—?

Ayato: I have to solve something, I’ll be right back.

— leaves —

Subaru: Ok…?

Place: Hallway

Ayato: ( That’s true, I was too harsh on the porter. I didn’t stop to think about what she might have been going through. )

( Maybe she was having a bad day and by letting my own irritation get the better of me… well, I must have surely made it worse. )

( I mean, if I were criticized, I’d feel like crap too. It’s obvious nobody enjoys being judged, especially when they’re already struggling, right? )

( And yet… I did exactly that to her. )

( So yeah, I’ve gotta fix this! I’m going to find her and apologize, even if it’s super awkward. )

Oi, porter!

Author’s note:

*If you forgot what happened in the first chapter and are wondering why Ayato and Yui don’t recognize each other, well that’s because Ayato was wearing a mask and a cap back then, and they were also in the dark, so they couldn’t notice each other’s features well.

#diabolik lovers #yui komori #ayato sakamaki #dialovers #ayato x yui #ayayui #admin #my fanfic

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winchesterwild78 · 3 days ago

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Second Take pt 2

Master List

Characters: Jensen x Reader (exs), Karl Urban, Eric Kripke, other characters from the set of The Boys

Warnings: Angst, Mention of loss of pregnancy, kinda infidelity, smutish.

A/N: Jensen and Reader confront their past in this chapter. The fallout from their kiss is still lingering and Danneel takes responsibility for her actions.

This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life.

Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated.

Please don’t take my work and use it as your own or on any other platform.

Minors DNI 18+

Jensen nodded and Eric walked away. Jensen took a steady breath and knocked on the door. “Hey, sweetheart, can I come in?”

I stood in stunned silence. The door opened, “Y/N, are you in here?” “Yeah I’m here. Jensen, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Danneel?”

He walked in and closed the door. “Y/N, I’m where I need to be. We need to talk about everything. Danneel is going to the hotel. I’ll go talk to her later.”

He walked up to me and turned my face to him. He looked at the side of my face where Danneel slapped me. It was still red and starting to bruise. “God, I’m so sorry. She had no right to slap you.”

I pulled away from him. Being in his arms was too much. “No, Jensen. She had every right to. I kissed her husband.”

“No, she’s a fucking hypocrite. She kissed me on set all those years ago, unscripted and that’s how things started between us. So her slapping you is bullshit.”

I looked at him in shock. I’d never known what happened and part of me wanted to stay in the dark.

Eric was right, however. Jensen and I needed to talk about everything.

“Jens I’m going home. If you want to talk you’re welcome to come over. I’m exhausted and Eric told me to go home.”

Jensen cupped my face and placed a soft kiss on my cheek. “I’ll be there.”

Our eyes locked on each other and time stood still. My heart was beating wildly in my chest and my mind began to spin. I wanted to be his again. I wanted to tell him about our baby, how for the past 13 years no one has ever measured up to him and how no one ever will. I just looked at him and softly smiled.

Jensen left and I grabbed my stuff and headed home.

About 10 minutes after I got home there was a knock on the door. It was Jensen. I opened the door and let him in.

Walking in he looked around, “The place looks great, Y/N. I see you still have the table.”

He smirked looking over at the small wooden table in the kitchen. I smiled thinking about all the wonderful memories we shared with that table.

The day we bought it in the middle of a snowstorm, the meals we shared, and even the day he bent me over it and took me so good I climaxed three times.

My cheeks flushed red, “Yeah, it’s a good table. Can I get you something to drink, beer, soda, water?”

“I’ll have a beer.” I nodded and grabbed two beers from the fridge.

He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the chair. Then he sat on the couch.

I handed him a beer and sat down across from him.

Silence filled the room. I wasn’t sure where to start. “Jens, I’m sorry for causing problems for you and Danneel. I respect you and your marriage. I’m not trying to come between you two. You made your decision years ago and I live with it. I’ll keep things professional. I promise.”

“Y/N, my marriage isn’t as perfect as everyone thinks. We’ve been having problems since before JJ was born. We almost divorced and then she ended up pregnant with the twins. I couldn’t leave her right after finding out she was pregnant again. We’ve been drifting apart ever since. I meant what I said to you yesterday, I never cheated on you. She kissed me on set and it wasn’t in the script. They loved it so much they wrote it in. Every time we did the take she would add something different to it and caused us to have to do another take. We started making out during one take and things heated up.”

As he continued to talk I felt the sting of tears prick my eyes. My stomach was in knots and I felt like I was going to be sick.

“I pushed her away and left for the day. I went to the bar and drank. I didn’t know what to do about the feelings I started to develop for her. I felt guilty about the scene, kissing her and making out with her. I came home and just needed space to figure it out. When I saw you so broken it killed me. I betrayed you so I let you think I cheated. I figured it would be easier for you to move on. It was stupid. I was stupid, because if I’m being honest I never moved on. Every single day I’ve thought about you. My wedding day I had to get drunk just to get through it. It should have been you there with me, not her. You should have given birth to my children.”

The tears I held back fell down my cheeks. Jensen sat his beer down and grabbed mine, placing it on the coffee table. His hands found my face. I leaned into his touch as he brushed the tears away.

“Jens, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you fight for us? I would have understood. Sure it would have hurt, but nothing compared to this. I’ve spent 13 years not feeling like I’m enough. Like I’m not worthy of being loved. Jens I have to tell you something. You’re probably going to hate me, but I’m prepared for that. I’ve already lost you, so it’s not like I can lose you again. The day you left, that morning I went to the doctor. I found out I was pregnant. I had a dinner planned and I even bought a onesie that had “Dean Winchester is my Daddy” printed on it. I had it wrapped and I was planning on giving it to you that night. Then you left. About a month later I lost the baby. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, and I’m so sorry I lost our baby. I tried everything to keep them safe but I couldn’t even do that. I’m glad you got the babies you deserve.”

Jensen leaned in and his lips ghosted over mine. “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” My mind spun. I wanted him, I needed him, but he was married. I couldn’t do that to her, to his children.

I placed my hands on his chest, “Jens, we have to stop. God I don’t want to, but I can’t do this to her or your children.” He leaned back and shook his head, “I understand sweetheart.”

“Jensen, I don’t know where this leaves us. I’m still in love with you, so deeply in love with you, but I won’t be the other woman. I’m not going to make you or ask you to choose between me and your wife. I won’t take you away from your children, Jensen.”

Jensen cupped my face, “God you’re incredible. I’m sorry I left you alone in everything. I should have been there when you lost the baby. I’m still in love with you too. I never stopped loving you. I need to head to the hotel and talk to D, but I want to come back and finish talking to you.” He placed a soft kiss on my forehead and pulled me up as he stood. Pulling me flush to his chest. I inhaled his scent, that scent that is distinctly Jensen.

I didn’t want to let him go. He pulled back and looked in my eyes, “Baby, I’ll be back. I promise.”

I nodded and walked Jensen to the door. He pulled on his jacket and turned towards the door. My heart hammered in my chest. Screaming at me to not let him go, to beg him to stay and choose me for once. My mind kept telling me to let him go, to let him go back to his wife.

His hand on the doorknob I took a deep breath. I grabbed his arm, “Jens wait!” He turned around and we both closed the distance between each other. His hands in my hair and our lips crashing together. Our tongues fought for dominance and the kiss was deep, full of passion and need.

When we finally pulled away our chests were heaving, gasping for air. His eyes dark with lust, mine just as dark. He grabbed my waist and pulled me close to him, his lips on mine again. Our moans filled the air as his hands went under my ass and pulled me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he carried us to the couch.

Jensen laid me down and hovered over me, “God you’re so beautiful. Baby I need you.” “I need you too, Jensen.” “Are you sure?” I nodded yes.

I knew it was wrong, he knew it was wrong, but we couldn’t stop.

Our lips were connected again. The kiss grew needier as Jensen’s hands ran up my shirt. I arched my back and moaned his name. Jensen leaned forward and took off his shirt. I bit my lip, god I forgot how incredible he looked.

My hands ran up his chest as I grabbed his biceps. “Let’s go to the bedroom, Jensen. I need you, all of you.” Jensen climbed off the couch and pulled me up. I giggled as he pulled me flush to his chest. We started walking down the hallway, the anticipation building. Consequences be damned. Jensen and I tumbled onto the bed and he wrapped his arms around me. “I love you, Y/N. So much.” I smiled. For the first time in years I actually believed someone loved me, “I love you too, Jensen.” Our lips found each other again in a heated kiss. Jensen had removed my shirt, leaving just my bra, his lips trailing down my body. I tried to cover myself. It had been 13 years since he last saw me naked, and my body had definitely changed. “No, don’t hide yourself. You’re beautiful, I love these curves and fuck, these breasts are so supple”

His lips continued down my body and he found his way to my pants. His eyes looked up at mine and I nodded. He slid my pants off and growled. I could see his erection through his pants and my walls clenched around nothing. I could still remember the way he felt, how he stretched and filled me up. How his hands and lips explored my body.

I can still remember the way his tongue licked and sucked my nipples and how it felt when he ate me out like a man starved. He was very skilled with his tongue and his pouty lips.

I could feel my arousal pooling in my panties as my mind remembered how he felt, how we felt when we made love. His fingers hooked the waistband of my panties and he pulled them down.

My breath hitched as I felt the cool air fan over my wetness. Jensen used his legs to spread mine. “Damn baby, you’re already soaked. So ready for me.” He smirked.

Jensen leaned forward and kissed my lips and I felt his erection pressing firmly against my thigh. Jensen leaned back and was positioning himself in between my legs. Laying on his belly I felt his hot breath across my exposed pussy. His fingers parted my lips and I gasped. “I can’t wait to taste you again. It’s been too long. As Jensen licked a strip up to my engorged clit I let out a moan and the shrill sound of his phone interrupted us.

Jensen leaned up, “Fuck! He stood up and grabbed his phone. I grabbed the sheet and covered myself up. He looked at his phone and groaned. “Sorry baby, I have to take this.” I nodded as he walked out of the room. I looked at myself, naked and about to have sex with a married man.

The shame crashed down on me. I quickly grabbed my clothes and put them on. Walking into the living room I heard him on the phone with Danneel. My heart clenched in my chest.

“Yes, I’ll be there soon. I agree, we have a lot to talk about. Okay, bye.” He spun around and saw me standing there dressed, “Baby what are you doing?” “We can’t do this Jensen. You’re married. I can’t be the other woman. I want to be the only woman, I deserve that.”

Jensen cupped my face, “Yes you do, baby. I’m telling her tonight I want a divorce. I don’t love her anymore. I haven't for a long time, and if I’m being honest I never loved her like I do you. I choose you, and only you.”

“Jensen, what about your kids? I can’t be the cause of you not being able to see them.” “Sweetheart, don’t worry about that. It won’t come to that, I promise. Please believe me I will find a way to make you happy again, give you that life we talked about and I’ll still have my kids in my life.”

I nodded. He kissed my lips, grabbed his shirt and put it on followed by his jacket. “Can I come back later?” I nodded, “I’d like that, Jensen.” He pulled me into his arms and held me, kissed me again and we said our goodbyes.

I took a deep breath and let it out. I felt like the pain from the last 13 years was starting to ease. It was still there, but I felt like we were starting to heal.

Guilt crept in as I thought about Danneel and the kids, but I had to trust that Jensen knew how to handle everything. I was still deeply in love with him, and he was still in love with me.

Jensen sent me a text when he got to the hotel.

Jensen: Hey baby. I’m at the hotel, I’ll text when I leave. I love you.

Me: Okay. I love you too, Jensen.

Jensen walked in the hotel room to find Danneel sitting on the couch. She looked at Jensen and he looked at her. “Hey, thanks for coming. We need to talk.”

Jensen nodded “I agree.” Jensen sat down in the chair across the room. “So where should we begin?” Jensen asked. Danneel took a deep breath, “Is she okay?”

Jensen was stunned by the question, “What?” “Is Y/N okay? I don’t know what came over me. I never should have slapped her.”

Jensen nodded, “Yeah, she’s okay. It’s going to bruise a little, but she’s okay.” Danneel shook her head.

“Jensen, where do we go from here? You’re not happy, I’m not happy. We haven’t been in a really long time.” “I agree. D, I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t want anything to keep my kids from me.”

“Do you love her?” Jensen looked at Danneel and nodded, “Yes I do. I never stopped. I’m sorry.” “Did you ever love me?” “Yes, I did, it was just different, and I’ll always love you as the mother of my children. No matter what happens between us, no one will take that away from you.”

Danneel took a deep breath, “This has been a long time coming hasn’t it? Things haven’t been good between us since before JJ was born. We were fooling ourselves. Jens, I’m sorry.”

Jensen stood and sat beside Danneel, “Hey, no don’t do that. It wasn’t all bad. We have three beautiful children together, and there were happier times.” She nodded, “Jens, I think we are better off as friends. I love you, but I’m not in love with you, and I know you’re in love with her. I’m not mad. I get it. The two of you were supposed to get married before I came along.”

“D, I agree. I think we are better off as friends. Don’t worry about anything. The kids will always be taken care of. You have my word. I’ll come see them, take them when I can. They will always be my first priority.”

She nodded, “Do you think you can tell Y/N I’m sorry for everything.” Jensen nodded, “Yeah I can do that.” Jensen and Danneel stood. She looked at Jensen and sadly smiled, “I guess this is goodbye.” “Yeah, I think it is.” He pulled her in for a hug, “I do love you D.” “I know Jensen, and I love you too, but it’s not enough when you’re not in love anymore. I’d rather split as friends than wait and split as enemies.”

“I’m going to fly back home tomorrow. I’ll wait to tell the kids until you’re back and we can tell them together.” Jensen nodded. He walked in the bedroom and packed a bag, “You stay here tonight.”

As Jensen put his hand on the door Danneel called to him, “Hey Jens, go get your girl.” Jensen smiled and nodded as he walked out the door.

Stepping in the elevator he pulled out his phone to send a text.

Jensen: Hey baby. I’m coming over, everything is done.

Me: Hey. Are you okay?

Jensen: Yeah, it went better than I thought it would. I’ll tell you all about it when I get there. I love you!

Me: I’ll be waiting, and I love you too.

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#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #jensen ackles #jackles #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles x reader

53 notes · View notes

waynes-multiverse · 3 days ago

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Ooof, finally back! 😮‍💨 I've been thinking about this series way too much in the last couple of weeks. I'm so excited to dive back in 😍

Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too? You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.

I'm so in love with their little bonding sessions. Being stuck inside a cabin and playing games? I want that 😍

And lol it's gotta be so awkward for true mates when they're still strangers. I absolutely adored her thought process throughout 😆

So you have to be content with mornings like this and in the evenings, where he lets you put on one of his records, and you two share dinner together, maybe another round of cards. Or you’ll read a book while lounging on the chaise, and he lays out on the couch, listening to his music with his eyes closed. You like watching him like that, with a relaxed, damn near peaceful set to his face.

Yes please 🫠🫠🫠

“Ah, don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart. I’ve been hustlin’ poker for a long time. Hell, I’ve been playing this game before I even knew my times tables,” he says as he collects the cards. “That young?” you reply. “Who taught you?” “My dad,” he says. “Oh, believe me, I used to get my ass kicked many a’ time, but by the time I turned sixteen, I was hustlin’ grown ass men in skeevy bars out of their daily paycheck.”

Love how Dean doesn't realize he's oversharing and that his whole childhood might not have been normal 😂

And oh God, all those journal entries 😭😭😭 I know they're from the OG journal, but it just rips my heart right out again rereading it 😢 Those portray John's despair and heartbreak way better than the show did...

In John’s words, your heart breaks for Dean, but you also see yourself. You try not to think about why.

Ooooh, let's think about it, shall we? 😏 Her dad might have totally been snatched by something supernatural. Considering their location and how it happened in her memories, it might have been a Wendigo?? 🤔

WENDIGO Cree: Evil that devours. Wood spirit. Eats live flesh. Lives in forests. Perfect hunter.

YEEEESSSSSS

Dude! Goosebumps! Wendigos scare the shit outta me 🙈 It's still why The Descent is the scariest movie for me. I die from a heart attack every time 😂 🫣

The coarse shout of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking

No, no, no, stop it! That description made me shudder 😶😶

“Omega?” calls Dean’s sharp voice. “You okay?” You jolt badly at the sudden noise. You didn’t hear him reenter the house.

No! Alex!!!! YOU KNOW THIS IS WHY I HATE SNOOPING

Girl, you're killing me here... 😆😆

“I was just curious. I wanted to know more about you. I thought it was…a normal journal.”

Love her explanation for reading his stuff. Reminds me of Smoke Eater 😄

“The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.”

Just then, you hear the crunch of snow nearby. Twigs snapping.

Oh no... Please tell me you didn't bring the Wenidgo back 😳

Plodding along the trail, heading towards you, is a bear.

I'm guessing this one ain't gonna be cute tho 😆

It doesn’t make much difference when all you have on your person is a can of bear spray.

Do not attack a Grizzly with bear spray! Just lie down, girl, and stop moving lol

Your voice dies in your throat when he rears up on his hind legs, with a loud roar.

She never heard of the three bears rule, has she? 😅 Well, hopefully Dean feels her distress and comes running soon 🙏

Two more shots finally bring it down to an even heavier thud, not far from your feet.

N'aw, I know it was necessary but poor bear – wrong place, wrong time for the fella 🥺💔

But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach.

My heart is full 😭❤️❤️❤️ (Also, I doubt he can ever stand to let her go her own way after this lmao)

Second, when he sees you there, your wide, shiny eyes filled with the remnants of panic, yet relief at the sight of him, it takes everything within him not to drop to his knees, grab you by the hair, sink his teeth into your neck and claim you, right there in the snow.

Holy... That came out of the blue and completely whipped me across the face! 🫠🔥

“We’re gonna be eatin’ good for a while,” he says without looking at you.

Huh. Never eaten bear before... Never even thought about it before lol Also seems like something the Shaws would've done 😂

Omg I love that ending! Dean's finally coming around, and she's putting the puzzle pieces about her dad together. I wonder what Dean will do when he hears the full story? Would he go hunt the thing? Is it even still out there??? Questions upon questions... 🤔

So excited for the next part!! I'm loving this story and everything you've put in it, and the dynamic between them is amazing. So well done, friend 😍🩵🩵

Against the Wind - Part 2

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Thank you guys so much for all the amazing feedback on Part 1! Now, most of your theories and questions will be answered...

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, and peril, the other kind of "hunting."

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 2: Seems Like Yesterday

“I’ll raise you 25,” you say, tossing five chocolate covered pretzels into the middle pile. It’s a risky bet, considering how much you lost in the last hand. Dean regards you with an amused, if critical eye while he holds his cards.

“Ooh, you’re bluffing,” he says. You pop your brows at him, a subtle smile tugging at your lips.

“You want to test that theory? Put your money where your mouth is,” you challenge.

He tilts his head at you with a raise of his own brows.

“Cheeky omega,” he mutters. His attention returns to his cards as he deliberates on his next move.

You attempt to be nonchalant as you glance down at your cards again. It’s a shitty hand, but he doesn’t need to know that. The alpha’s won the last two hands of Texas Hold ‘Em, but you did win the first one. Though you suspect he let you win.

You want to at least even the score before he resumes his work out in the shed. He spends most of his time there during the day, or making sure the firewood is stocked. It seems like he takes any excuse not to spend too much time in your presence.

More than anything, you want to ask him if he feels what you feel—the same tug in the pit of your stomach every time he’s nearby. You just haven’t found a way to broach that with him.

Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too?

You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.

Too often he holds that harder, stoic expression, or that divot between his brows that makes you want to soothe two of your fingers there; or better yet, lean in and press your lips—

“It’s your move,” Dean reminds you. He’s finally played his hand, but you were too distracted to hear what he said.

“What’d you do?” you ask, surveying the piles of cards.

“Call,” he repeats, popping a few pretzels into his mouth. He washes it down with beer and more barbeque chips. Those are worth $10 in this little fantasy betting. He points a finger towards you with the same hand that holds his beer, teasing, “You got all the lights on in there? Or am I boring you?”

You glance up at him, fighting a smile. “All right, keep your pants on. Let me see…”

As the dealer, he’s already turned over the River: the last card in the hand. It’s a 10 of Clubs, which means your One Pair is actually a Two Pair. It’s still not a great hand, but it’s decent enough to maybe let you get the best of your opponent.

After you go “all in,” Dean’s lips twitch at a smile, and he humors you, going all in as well. You’re on tenterhooks when he finally reveals his hand.

“Ooh, it ain’t a cheesy ‘90s sitcom, but it’s still…a Full House,” he brags as he lays out each card in a smooth line of overlapping cards, the mix of glossy red diamonds and black spades showing the truth. He won again.

You huff in defeat, your shoulders sinking in your seat at the kitchen table. You turn over your measly hand. Sweeping the winnings toward himself (a mound of chocolate covered pretzels, a stack of barbecue chips, and a handful of Oreos), Dean chuckles and tosses you a wink.

“Ah, don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart. I’ve been hustlin’ poker for a long time. Hell, I’ve been playing this game before I even knew my times tables,” he says as he collects the cards.

“That young?” you reply. “Who taught you?”

“My dad,” he says. “Oh, believe me, I used to get my ass kicked many a’ time, but by the time I turned sixteen, I was hustlin’ grown ass men in skeevy bars out of their daily paycheck.”

“You were hanging out in bars at sixteen?” you ask incredulously. There, Dean seems to realize he’s said too much. He becomes more guarded as he puts away the deck and cleans the crumbs off the table.

“My dad was always working. You could say I didn’t really have a curfew,” he says.

“A latchkey kid, huh?” you reply, hiding the way you’re trying so hard to glean any more hints of truth between his words.

“Heh, yeah.” He gets up from the table and tosses the breakfast dishes in the sink, then travels to the front door to don his jacket and boots.

“All right, I’ll be out back,” he says.

Out back, code for out in the shed. You nod, and in a flash, he’s shutting the door behind him.

You’ve learned another small tidbit about him, one that feels more important than it seems on the surface. And yet, it only elicits more questions you doubt he’ll be willing to answer so easily. He’s more than tight-lipped about his past, only giving vague outlines and general pictures.

Even his stories—like being raised up in a family of traveling mechanics, putting Nair in Sam’s shampoo when he was a kid, or the guy’s serious fear of clowns—feel like they’re missing some key details.

You decide to take up your crutches and head for your room. There you unearth the journal from its hiding place under your pillow. This time, you turn to the very beginning. Before all the jargon about mythology (and an odd footnote about a “Turducken Slammer”), there are actual journal entries. The first one dates back to November 6, 1983. The first line already captures your attention.

I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed… When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.

This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.

Dean’s mom…

He writes about their house burning with all their memories inside, along with Mary. Somehow, he saw her pinned bloody to the ceiling.

Along with these pages is a clipping from a news story:

House Fire Kills Mother of Two

Lawrence, Kansas.

You’re spellbound by it all. You keep reading.

November 13, 1983

…Most of our clothes and photos are ruined, even our safe—the safe with Mary’s old diaries, the boys’ savings bonds, what little jewelry we had…all gone. How could my house, my whole life, go up like that, so fast, so hot? How could my wife just burn up and disappear?

The police don’t believe his story, about how she died before the fire, about what he saw. So he tries to convince himself that what he saw wasn’t real. Still, he can’t find rest, and he worries about his sons’ safety.

December 4, 1983

I haven’t let them out of my sight since the fire. Dean still hardly talks. I try to make small talk, or ask him if he wants to throw the baseball around. Anything to make him feel like a normal kid again. He never budges from my side—or from his brother.

Every morning when I wake up, Dean is inside the crib, arms wrapped around baby Sam. Like he’s trying to protect him from whatever is out there in the night.

Sammy cries a lot, wanting his mom. I don’t know how to stop it, and part of me doesn’t want to. It breaks my heart to think that soon he won’t remember her at all.

You don’t realize you’re crying until a droplet lands on the page. You quickly wipe it away before it becomes a stain, and you dry it all the way with your breath before you move on to the next page, sniffling. Your heart hurts, even as your guilt grows. You know now that you’re really, truly invading Dean’s privacy by reading his father’s words. You just can’t stop yourself from turning the next page.

John becomes convinced that someone, or something, started the fire that destroyed his life and took his wife away from him and his sons. He leaves his job and the remnants of that world behind, to venture deeper into the darker one. But in that darkness, he finds truth.

He visits a psychic, Missouri, who leads him back to his house and senses the echoes of an evil presence—something that shakes her to the core, and John too: the creature that killed his wife.

December 20

…She told me that it was the most powerful, awful thing she’s ever come across.

On January 1, 1984, John makes a New Year’s resolution. He determines to find the answers himself.

A shiver runs down your spine. In John’s words, your heart breaks for Dean, but you also see yourself. You try not to think about why.

You keep flipping through the rest of the journal past January. There are translations of a Latin exorcism, and like you read before, strange drawing of evil looking creatures—as well as what they are, scraps of their history, and how to kill them.

Silver bullet to the heart, can’t withstand iron, salt and burn.

You pause on a certain page, more filled with lore than the rest, and a primitive drawing in the center.

WENDIGO

Cree: Evil that devours.

Wood spirit. Eats live flesh. Lives in forests.

Perfect hunter.

Your breath stills in your lungs as a cold sweat forms across your skin. The more you read, the faster your heart beats.

The crunch of dead leaves. Your father shouting at you to run, and keep running.

The coarse shout of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short. You turn around with your rifle in hand, poised to shoot blindly.

Your stomach churns as bile rises into your throat. You feel sick, and wrong, and you suddenly have the urge to throw the journal against the wall.

“Omega?” calls Dean’s sharp voice. “You okay?”

You jolt badly at the sudden noise. You didn’t hear him reenter the house. He likely caught the scent of your distress. He pushes the door of your room open to find you, but he stops short in the doorway. His surprise quickly morphs into a frown when he notices what you’re holding in your lap.

You gasp, freezing where you sit, but there’s no point in trying to cover up what you’ve done. With an angry purse of his lips, he reaches over and takes the journal from your hands.

“What the hell are you doing with this?” he demands.

“I’m��I’m sorry. I just—” You swallow past the lump in your throat. “I was just curious. I wanted to know more about you. I thought it was…a normal journal.”

“So this is how you go about it, huh? Got everything you wanted, Columbo?” he says, his sarcasm cutting into you. He flips through the journal to make sure all the pages are intact before he tucks the journal under his arm. “Seriously, going into somebody’s stuff? Who the hell raised you?”

At that, you begin to bristle.

“My dad,” you snap back. Though remembering the passages you’ve lived with for the past few hours, you soften with a painful twinge of sympathy in your heart.

“And it looks like yours raised you to be some kind of…well, what are you, a ghostbuster or something?” you ask.

His jaw locks. “Or something.”

With an exasperated sigh at his hedging, you swing your legs around the edge of the bed and haul yourself up with your crutches so you can at least match his stance (more or less).

“Dean, please, just talk to me,” you implore, gesturing at the journal tucked under his arm. “The things I read—”

“Are none of your goddamn business!” he growls, making the omega inside you cringe. The alpha’s voice is deep and sharp, and even though he isn’t crowding you, his height and broadness are still intimidating.

“The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.”

Your mouth actually falls open in shock. His vehement words feel almost as powerful as a physical blow, if to your soul. They make your arms tremble while holding yourself upright on your crutches. Hot tears well up in your eyes, though you try to blink them away. After a moment, you’re able to collect yourself enough to speak.

“I’m sorry for going through your stuff,” you say, in a quiet voice.

You hobble awkwardly past him out of the room. You don’t stop until you reach the front door, where your snow boots are. You manage to get them on by yourself so you can go outside and get some fresh air, not to mention some much needed distance from the alpha’s burning presence. You can still feel him trailing behind you. You hear his heavy boots.

“Where the hell are you going?” he grits out.

You hobble faster.

Dean watches you go out the door without a word in irritation, even though it triggers an alarm deep in his gut every time you leave the safety of the cabin.

The snow depth has lightened somewhat since the storm, but it’s still not easy to navigate on your crutches. You get some distance from the cabin, mindful not to go too far. You know you’re limited, and you didn’t even take a gun with you.

Finding a solid tree to lean on, you rest there and try in vain to stifle your tears. You know you were wrong for snooping, and he had a right to be mad, but did he really have to be such a freakin’ bear?

Fucking alphas. I swear.

You thought you were starting to connect with him, but clearly, Dean wants nothing to do with you. He wants you out of his life.

Does he not feel the same pull you feel to him? Does he really not realize…that he’s meant to be your mate?

You take in a shaky breath through your nose. If he does, apparently he doesn’t care.

Just then, you hear the crunch of snow nearby. Twigs snapping.

Your body stiffens with a terrible memory—of that day in the woods. Your breath comes out in short puffs on the cold air, your eyes wide as you listen closely.

Hearing nothing, you allow yourself to breathe a little easier. You venture a few paces forward and to the right, but you stop shy of how it slopes downward. Some unnamed feeling tells you to look over the edge.

You lean over and cast your gaze down the slope, but all you see is snow and trees down below. With a shaky breath, you lean back and look out to the north again. Plodding along the trail, heading towards you, is a bear.

Oh shit…

You remember Dean mentioning something about a bear passing by his cabin a couple of days before the storm. Looks like he’s back to make his rounds.

His fur is dark; from this distance, you can’t tell if it’s a black bear or a grizzly. It doesn’t make much difference when all you have on your person is a can of bear spray. His gait is massive, unhurried, but he lets out a braying sound when your gaze meets his, as if acknowledging you. He stops there for a moment, assessing. Your body locks up with fear.

The bear groans again, this time sharper. You finally snap out of your reverie and force your body to move slowly backward with your crutches spearing into the snow. The cabin isn’t that far, maybe thirty or forty yards at most. Still, the bear can probably beat you.

Instead of trying to run, you stand your ground and shout at the bear, hoping he’ll back off. Your voice dies in your throat when he rears up on his hind legs, with a loud roar. Trembling, you miss a step and get knocked back into the snow on your ass, your crunches falling out at your sides. You scramble inside your jacket for anything that might help you.

Bear spray!

You hurry to get the cap off with shaking hands, but before you can even aim, the creature’s heave paws thudding into the ground in front of you—a gunshot rings out and hits the animal in the chest.

The bear falters, then roars in pain and anger.

Two more shots finally bring it down to an even heavier thud, not far from your feet.

In this moment, these are the things you don’t know about Dean Winchester:

For one, the scent of an omega in distress always calls to an alpha’s protective instincts. But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach.

Instead, his lips purse as he wracks his rifle and slings the strap of it over his shoulder. He stalks toward you and scoops you up, crutches and all. He brings you back to the cabin without a word.

His jaw is once again locked with silence and strain; he doesn’t trust himself to speak until he’s brought you inside and carried you over to the chaise. He sits beside you there and takes an inventory of you with his eyes.

“You okay?” he asks at last.

You manage to meet his gaze and give a little nod.

“Okay. Don’t move,” he says shortly. He gets up and goes to the kitchen, where he grabs a foldable set of knives and a cooler from under the sink.

You watch him in silence, and you realize he’s going back to gut the bear. You didn’t know that he actually hunted out here…well, hunted to eat. He continues to gather items in silence. It gets to a point where you can’t stand it, or his curtness, any longer.

“Thank you,” you say, halting his steps. Dean glances at you over his shoulder, then continues strapping up his supplies. He huffs in response.

“We’re gonna be eatin’ good for a while,” he says without looking at you.

His attitude both hurts you and aggravates you, so much that you refuse to take it anymore.

“Look, Dean. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have butted into your life,” you say. Frustrated tears well up in your eyes. Expelling a sharp sigh, you amend yourself. “I’m sorry for invading your privacy. I’m sorry about what you went through, and I’m…I’m sorry about your mom. I’m sorry for today. I’ll just…stay out of your way, and I’ll leave as soon as I can.”

Dean finally turns your way, but your lips tremble as you turn your face away from him and shut your eyes tightly against the salty burn of tears. Deep inside, his heart withers in his chest. He sighs and drops his supplies on the couch. He walks over with those heavy boots, and he sits on the edge of the chaise beside you. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually, he rests a warm, calloused hand on your arm and earns your tearful gaze.

“I’m sorry. I, uh…shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he says.

You sniff, quickly wiping away your embarrassing tears as they come. Your cheeks are hot with it.

“What is it you wanna know? About me,” he asks, surprising you that much more.

Your mouth parts, but nothing comes out. It takes you some time to think, but the first thing that comes to your mind is…

“Everything in that journal,” you say, licking your dry lips. “Is it real?”

Dean holds your gaze steadily. You know the truth without him having to say it, but he does.

“I was a hunter,” he says. “Those things you read about, I found ‘em. Killed ‘em. It was my job.”

“And now?” you ask, once that large bit of information has time to set into your brain.

His lips tug at a half smile. “Consider me…mostly retired.”

You exhale softly, and you nod. It earns a furrowed look from Dean.

“You don’t seem all that freaked out by this,” he says, with a more scrutinizing gaze on you.

“Should I be?” you say, with an unsteady laugh.

He raises his brows. “In my experience, yeah.”

You chew on the inside of your lip. You don’t know if you should even put into words what you’ve been holding onto for months. Like John, no one believed you. Even your own mother had started to look at you like you needed a shrink.

“Omega?” Dean presses. His green eyes are perceptive as they take in the conflicted look on your face. “There something you wanna tell me?”

You deliberate for a moment longer. Then, you release a sigh and glance down at your hands clenching in your lap.

“A few months ago, I lost my dad,” you begin.

Dean nods. “Yeah, you said—”

“I lost him in these woods,” you say.

That quiets the alpha.

You shake your head, and you find your words as the memories that have been haunting your nights return to you.

“Like I said, we used to go hiking here every year…”

AN: Just so you know, all of the journal entries appear in the official "John's Journal" SPN merch. 😉

Next Time:

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name louder, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 3

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flowery-mess · 2 days ago

Text

in vino veritas

Pairing: frat boy Noah x female reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! / slight smut / drinking alcohol / let me know if anything else should be taged

Words: 2k

frat boy Noah masterlist

„So you can chose from this list of presentation topics or you can think of your own, but you need to discuss it with me in that case. Everything clear? Any questions?” your professor then ended the lesson and you turned to face Molly and Clara.

“How are we gonna do this? There’s three of us.” Clara said, pointing between the three of you. You were just assigned new team project, team meaning two people.

“Ella can be with Noah, they can work on their project after their sex sessions.” Molly said, teasing you with playful smirk.

“Molly, fuck off.” you said with nice smile, showing her your middle finger.

“That’s not a bad idea actually.” Clara nodded along as the two of them looked like they just found cure for deadly disease.

“He has his buddies in this class, he’s not interested in doing school project with me.”

“One, two, three, four aaand five! Perfect!” Molly scanned the area where Noah and his friends sat, pretty happy with the number of them.

“Just text him, or one of us will end up with Anna again.”

“And you don’t want that for any of us!”

Anna was your classmate, short girl with long hair. Clara was paired up with her for another project and she said she’s rather have a bath full of spider than work with Anna again. She didn’t give you details, only that her dorm smells like sweat and that she told Clara she doesn’t take shower more than twice a week to save the planet.

“You’re the worst friends ever.” you ironically said when you pulled your phone out of your bag to text Noah.

“Any chance your friends ditched you for the project like mine?” you hit send and then turned your body so you could see Noah reach for his phone.

He read your text and chuckled before answering you.

“No, but I could ditch them for you.”

Before you could write your response he sent another message.

“Unless you want Trevor to be your partner.”

You looked up to see Noah looking back at you, his face without any emotion so you didn’t know if that Trevor message was just a joke or if he was serious.

“I don’t want Trevor to be my partner.” you sent your reply and before you could see his reaction, you turned back around to face your friends who were patiently waiting for your answer.

“Okay I’ll do it with Noah, but next time one of you will make the sacrifice.”

-------------------

“Do you like any topic from the list?” Noah started the conversation when you two found a free table at the coffee shop in the campus.

“I haven’t read them all yet, do you like any of them?”

“I don’t really care about the topic, you can choose.”

“You sound like a perfect partner, let me see.” you opened the document with different topics and Noah sipped on his coffee. “Workplace diversity, Urbanization and its social impacts, Religion in moder communities, everything’s boring.”

You scrolled some more before something finally caught your eye. “This! Sociology of first impressions: expressions through appearance.” you pointed your finger in the middle of your screen where topic was written.

“Why this one?” Noah asked.

“Because I hate when people judge others based on their looks. I might get angry while doing this project.” you warned Noah, but that only got a chuckle out of him.

“Okay, sign us up for that one.” so you did write Noah Sebastian and Ella Thompson next to that topic so no one could steal it from you.

“Let’s make an outline and we can start on our own parts separately.”

You wrote down ideas and topics you wanted to talk about and when you finished your coffees you were pretty satisfied with the work you’ve done so far.

“How about we work on in at my place on Saturday?” Noah proposed when started packing your things.

“Oh, okay.” you said, surprised by his question. First, it meant that he planned on taking you back to his place on Friday and second, he wanted you to stay and not leave in the morning. But it was because of the project, you reminded yourself.

“Okay. Bye Ella.” he gave you quick salute and left the coffee shop.

-----------------

Sitting on Noah’s couch on Saturday with schoolwork in front of you felt weird. Unnatural.

“So the introduction is done, we can change it as we go on with the rest. I was thinking we could do interview for the practical part of the project?” you looked up from your notes only to find Noah sitting on the floor with his head on the couch and eyes closed. “Noah!” you groaned and threw your pencil at him.

“What? I want to sleep.”

“This was your idea.” you reminded him.

He opened one eye to give the annoyed look, but he knew you were right. He was also a good student and wanted the project to be good, but he was also tired from the party last night and then your bedroom fun that lasted until 3AM.

“Okay. What did you say about the practical part?” he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat straight. Sleepy Noah kinda looked cute, but you were sure he was gonna change into angry Noah after you’re gonna propose your ides to him.

“I was thinking about an interview with someone extraordinary.”

“Like?”

“Like, well, you.”

His eyebrows shot up at your proposition “Me? You think I’m extraordinary?”

You couldn’t name the look in his eyes, but it almost looked like it made him sad and surprised at the same time.

“I mean yeah, look at you. You’re what this project is about. Don’t tell me no one ever judged you based on your tattoos.”

He was quiet, confirming what you just said out loud. It was true, he was familiar with the judgement from others based solely on the tattoos that were covering most of his body.

“I don’t think that’s allowed when I’m working on the project.” His answer was short and firm.

He knew that if he’d agreed you’d ask questions like why he got this and that tattoo, the meaning behind them or at what age he started with them. And he didn’t want you to know that, his covered body meant all the obstacles he had to overcome and he didn’t like talking about his past. But you didn’t know that, so before you could shut your mouth the question slipped out.

“Why do you have desolate on your stomach Noah?”

“Stop asking questions Ella, I told you no.”

“It can be anonymous, no one has to know it’s about you.”

“I said no.”

“It can be just few questions, like 5 to 10?” you just couldn’t help yourself and stop your mouth.

“Leave.”

“What?” you looked at Noah, confused by his sudden reaction.

“I don’t feel like working on the project anymore. We can have coffee on Monday and continue.”

He looked hurt, and suddenly you felt guilty.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

But he didn’t answer, instead he started packing your things to show you he was serious about wanting you leave.

------------

You didn’t talk about his tattoos on Monday, you talked about the theoretical part of the project. Noah was giving you the cold shoulder, not talking more than he had to.

You couldn’t stop thinking about his reaction to your question about the desolate tattoo. You always wondered what his tattoos mean when you saw him naked, but you never asked. Or you just didn’t have a good excuse to do so.

-------------

The next Friday you were both more drunk that usual, blaming the beer pong competition for it. When you made it to Noah’s place and you started taking each other’s clothes off, your drunk mind couldn’t help itself.

You slid your hands down Noah’s naked chest and stopped at the desolate tattoo.

“What does it mean Noah?” you asked him in a whisper, your mouth on his.

“What?”

“Desolate. Why do you have it on your body?”

“Because I’m desolate.” he confessed, the lust from his eyes fading away.

“That’s not a nice thing to say about yourself.”

“It’s the truth tho.” he dipped his head in the crook of your neck and started kissing your sensitive skin.

And you pieced all the things you knew about Noah together. He was living alone, in this big ass apartment, he never mentioned visiting his family for the holidays or someone’s birthday. He doesn’t have any pictures of him and his family around the place and his mom never called him at 6 in the morning like yours did.

“What about your family?” he stopped his movements and you felt his muscles tense under your touch.

He pushed himself off of you and sat on his bed, his tatted back facing you. You heard him sigh and push his hair out of his face.

“Why do you care about my family?” he asked just above a whisper.

“I don’t know. You never talked about any family members, you live here alone and you just told me you are a desolate.”

“We said just sex, no feelings. I think that includes this too.”

“Well I’m too drunk so I probably won’t remember shit in the morning.” you lied. And you felt guilty about, but you wanted to get to know him better and the alcohol just gave you courage to continue.

The alcohol probably made him more emotional too, because he believed that you won’t remember what he said to you that night, but how could you.

“I don’t have any family. Parents left me with my grandparents when I was a kid. Haven’t seen my mom since then and I only see my father if he needs money from me. My grandparents died when I was 15 and since then it was just me. I was left with their house and money. I worked through high school so I could afford good college. Sold the house when I was 19 and bought this place. But I got no one Ella, I am desolate. Always have been.” his head was hanging low, his breath became uneven and he closed his eyes to picture his three year old self asking his grandmother when will mom come pick him up.

“Noah,” you didn’t know what to say to his story, you were feeling sorry for him, but you were sure that wasn’t something he wanted to hear. “You made something from yourself, your grandparents would be proud.”

When he didn’t answer you shifted on your knees and pressed yourself at his back.

Noah fell asleep in your arms that night and your view on him changed. He was the great example for your project, how the outside of someone doesn’t reflect his inside.

But in the morning you pretended like you didn’t remember anything he told you and couldn’t figure if he really did not remember sharing his secrets with you, or if he actually didn’t remember.

You finished the project and got almost full score from your professor.

Things between you and Noah stayed the same, neither of you going back to that night or hiss desolate tattoo.

But every time you got the chance, you made sure kiss those letter on his body to silently tell him he’s not a desolate.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Tag list: @lacy1986 @chey-h

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This story is a work of fiction, with the plot and characters entirely made up. The appearance and name of the main male character are inspired by Noah Sebastian Davis, but the storyline bears no connection to the real person. Please do not steal or repost this work on other platforms without permission.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens imagine #noah sebastian band #noah sebastian headcanons #frat boy noah

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dreameyess11 · 3 days ago

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Cold cold man

Tangerine x Reader

You’ve always known Tangerine was different. The first time you met him, his eyes bore into you with an intensity that felt like it could shatter glass. He had a way of making silence heavy, a tangible thing that pressed against your chest. Yet, even then, you felt something beneath his cold demeanor—a flicker of warmth that refused to burn brightly but never quite went out.

Tangerine isn’t like other people, not the kind who showers you with flowery words or makes grand gestures. Instead, his love is quiet, hidden in the spaces between his sharp edges. It’s there in the way he listens, the way he notices things most wouldn’t—like how you always fidget with your ring when you’re nervous or how you hum to yourself when you think no one’s watching. He never says anything about it, never makes a point of it, but he remembers.

You wish, sometimes, that he could be easier, softer. You wish he’d hold your hand in public or tell you how beautiful you look without needing to be prompted. But that’s not Tangerine. His compliments, when they come, are rare and understated.

“Nice dress,” he’ll mutter, barely looking at you. But you know it’s his way of saying you’re breathtaking.

His coldness isn’t cruelty—it’s just who he is. And you’ve learned to read between the lines. You’ve learned to see the way his hand brushes yours, just slightly, when you walk side by side. How he’ll stand a little closer to you when the room feels too big, too loud. How, in the middle of the night, when he thinks you’re asleep, his fingers will trace patterns on your arm, feather-light and reverent.

One evening, you’re sitting on the couch together, the TV playing some show neither of you is really watching. He’s quiet, as always, his expression unreadable. But then, out of nowhere, he speaks.

“I’m not good at this,” he says, voice low and rough.

“At what?” you ask, turning to him.

“This,” he gestures vaguely between you two. “Us. Love. I’m not good at showing it.”

Your heart aches at the vulnerability in his tone. “You don’t have to be perfect at it, Tan. I don’t need big gestures or constant reminders. I just need you.”

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a moment, you swear you see something crack in him. “I know I’m a cold man,” he says softly. “But you make me want to be better. Even if I’m slow, even if I don’t always say the right things. I want to try. For you.”

It’s the most he’s ever said about his feelings, and it takes your breath away. You reach out, placing your hand over his. His fingers are stiff at first, hesitant, but then they relax, curling around yours.

“I don’t need you to be anything but yourself,” you whisper. “That’s enough for me.”

And for the first time, Tangerine smiles—not a big smile, but a small, genuine curve of his lips that feels like sunlight breaking through the clouds. It’s fleeting, but it’s there, and it’s for you.

In that moment, you realize that Tangerine’s love may not be easy or loud, but it’s real. It’s in every quiet gesture, every small act of care, every unspoken word. And for you, that’s more than enough.

#fanfic #tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x you #bullet train #imagine #aaron taylor johnson x reader

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burningembers91 · 2 days ago

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Looking Up - Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Outside Looking In

In the Bleak Midwinter

Without You

Synopsis: Desperate to start afresh and build a life for the both of you, Nam-Gyu searches for a new job. But, with no qualification and no experience, will anyone take a chance on him?

A/N: I saw this gif and it instantly made me think of his itchy interview suit i’d pictured 🥹

Nam-Gyu’s suit was itchy, the fabric pinching at his skin as he sat in the waiting area. His tie was too tight, the uncomfortable compression around his neck making him squirm in his seat. He wasn’t sure why he’d let his brother talk him into borrowing his old suit; it was poorly fitting and the beige colour did nothing for him.

But Nam-Gyu had been desperate, and had nowhere else to turn. You’d been living together for two months now, both of you searching for different jobs that would hopefully lead to better prospects and more money. You’d manage to find a job in a florist, and although it paid almost as poorly as the hostess job, you were so happy. It was what you’d always wanted to do, and your boss was incredible.

Nam-Gyu had decided to take his father’s advice and find a proper job, something in insurance or finance. He’d always been so scared of having a “normal” job, so terrified of becoming another nobody. But he didn’t feel like that anymore; not with you. You made him feel like he could do anything, and for the first time in his life he was happy to blend peacefully into the background. He had you, and you were all he needed.

He’d been looking for jobs for weeks but had been turned down at every corner. He had no real experience, and had never stepped foot inside an office before. This junior finance assistant job was quite probably his last chance, otherwise he’d have to go searching for a job as a waiter. He wanted a job that could support you, that could relieve some of the financial stress you were both under. He’d been awake most of the night thinking about this interview, and as he sat waiting his palms were sweating.

His parents hadn’t spoken to him since the night they kicked him out. Nam-Gyu was hoping that if he got this job he could show his father how hard he’d been working, that he’d finally decided to grow up. He really wanted them to meet you as well, to meet the girl he’d fallen head over heels for. His brothers had met you, and while they would never admit it to Nam-Gyu, they thought you were perfect for him. You grounded their little brother, kept him stable but at the same time made him happier than they had ever seen him. He was an entirely different person around you, no longer cocky and brash, but sweet and gentle. You two were made for each other.

“Park Nam-Gyu?”

His head snapped up at his name to see a woman in a sharp suit eyeing him through a doorway.

“We’re ready for you now.”

Heading into the interview room, he tried to swallow his nerves, wiping his sweaty hands on his itchy suit. A group of two men and one woman sat opposite him, their faces stony as he sat down. His throat suddenly felt impossibly dry, his lungs no longer seemed to work. He couldn’t take a full breath, and he was desperate for a glass of water.

“Tell us a bit about yourself,” one of the men said. “Do you have any experience in finance or accounting?”

“Uh… well…” Nam-Gyu knew the interview was over before it had even begun. He had no experience of anything other than standing out in the cold handing out leaflets that nobody wanted. He’d been rejected for every job he’d applied for, and he knew this one wouldn’t be any different. So what did he have to lose?

“No, not as such.” He admitted. “I was a club promoter for many years. I spent most of my time trying to attract customers to different venues around Seoul.”

“And were you successful?” The woman asked, her razor sharp eyebrow raised high.

“For the most part,” he lied. He wasn’t going to make himself look like a complete idiot.

“So why the change of career?” She asked him.

“Well,” he smiled as he pictured you. “I fell in love. I didn’t think I ever would but I’ve met someone I want to spend the rest of my life with, and that means I need a job; a real job.”

He couldn’t tell how the rest of the interview went. He wasn’t able to answer any accounting related questions, but they asked him lots of questions about his life in general.

He had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach as he made his way home, eager to shed the uncomfortable suit.

“How did it go?” You squealed, as soon he came through the front door. You’d been a bag of nerves all day, checking your phone every two minutes in case he’d texted you.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, hastily removing his suit jacket and pants. “I was honest and told them I didn’t have experience.”

You could sense his frustration, and you wished there was something you could do to help him. He’d been working so hard the last few months, studying accountancy books he picked up at the library, staying up until the early hours of the morning apply for jobs. You wished someone would take a chance on him, to see the hard worker he was.

The two of you spent the rest of the day on the sofa with the TV playing a show neither of you could concentrate on. Nam-Gyu kept checking his phone, refreshing his email every five minutes to see if anything had come through. With each passing minute, his hope waned. No one was going to take a chance on him; not that he blamed them. There was a cafe down the road that was looking for part time workers. He’d head there tomorrow and fill out an application.

It was late when his phone rang, the two of you half asleep in front of the TV. Nam-Gyu shot up at the sound, noticing a number on the screen he wasn’t familiar with.

“Oh my god! It could be them!” You cried, “answer it! Answer it!”

You clapped your hand over your mouth to stay silent, the nervous excitement almost bursting out of you.

“Hello?” He answered the phone, his voice shaking.

“Park Nam-Gyu, this is Kim Ha-Ri from the interview today. I’m just calling because we’d like to offer you the job.”

Nam-Gyu couldn’t speak for a few moments. He’d been so sure he hadn’t got it, was so sure he’d been passed over that he didn’t know what to say.

“Mr Park? Can you hear me?”

“Y-yes,” he stammered, shooting you a quick thumbs up, his face beaming. “That’s incredible, thank you much.”

“Can you start tomorrow? 8am?”

“Absolutely! Thank you so much, I’ll see you then.”

The call ended and he breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, finally things were starting to come together.

“I’m so proud of you,” you smiled, pulling him close to you. “You just watch. It’s only up from here, I promise.”

Nam-Gyu was determined to make this new job a turning point. He was going to make good money, find a new place for you both to live that wasn’t cramped and damp, save up enough that he could take you on holiday. He wanted to show his parents that he had changed, that he was capable of becoming a son they could be proud of.

For the first time in months, you both slept soundly, the prospect of a new life so close you could almost touch it.

#squid game #squid game x reader #squid game 2 #squid game fanfic #squid game x you #squid game season 2 #nam gyu x you #nam gyu x reader #squid game nam gyu #nam gyu #roh jae won

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noodle-is-unstable · 2 days ago

Note

Please know that my words were in no meant to be a jab. I didn’t even know anything about your sexual orientation at all actually. I was scrolling and something told me to stop. I was just drawn and felt the need to tell you. Anyone who has ever used Christianity or any other religion to be cruel to you in any capacity was awful and that’s not at all how one should treat people. Nor is it the way that Christianity is supposed to be practiced. The love God has and his people has is supposed to be unconditional. There’s no place for cruelty, bullying, alienating or violence among people who are different and have different and beliefs. I genuinely apologize that you’ve come across individuals who have used it as an excuse and a warrant to do so. You didn’t deserve that condescending attitude towards you and those people heavily miscommunicated and misrepresented what Christianity is supposed to be about. I myself have church hurt due to the mistreatment of people and it took me pursuing my own personal relationship with God to hear his voice and be exposed to what his love is truly supposed to be like. I realized I let the misrepresentation of his people determine my perspective on the entire faith all together. It’s not about being perfect or judging other people and pointing fingers at people who are different and go through certain struggles and things. I grew up in the church thinking the strict suffocating and hyper judgmental environment was normal. I promise it’s not supposed to be like that. It’s supposed to be a safe space and a genuine relationship with God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit where you’re loved and guided regardless of where you are in life and what you do. Please know I never meant any harm or hurt towards you in any way. I feel like it’s a good thing you’ve set boundaries but just know to distinguish between genuine and disingenuous people. The same way that a person can get one idea about an entire sexuality is the same way a person forms a belief on an entire people. Prime example: you mentioned being mistreated for being apart of the LGBTQ+ community by people of religions. I as a Christian is flat out tell you that some of the most helpful, sweetest and accepting people I’ve met in life have been members of the LGBTQ+ community. A lot of believers have this idea that they need to point fingers and mistreat people who’s lifestyles don’t align with the gospel and they have this idea that you’re all evil in some way and unworthy or love and kindness. It’s the furthest thing from the truth ever and the absolute opposite of what Jesus God stands for. He doesn’t pick and choose who to love and it’s in his word to love your neighbor. It doesn’t say straight neighbor, gay neighbor, tall short white brown fat or skinny neighbor. It just. Says. Neighbor. And that’s where the foul ups are. The only job we have as Christians is to show love and kindness people regardless of their lifestyle, personality etc and spread the word of God. Christians aren’t supposed to in anyway shape or form make you feel less than or correct/judge you with a heart full of distaste or hate in any way. Realizing that has helped me find clarity and peace with forming a consistent relationship with God. Because I got a genuine idea of who he was and how loving his is first hand. That could be the starting point of your relationship. Address the fact that you’ve been hurt by his people. Talk to him and tell him every cruel word ever uttered to you and all the tears you’ve cried and pain you’ve felt and after all is said and done listen to any guidance or peace of mind he offers so you can understand what following him and experiencing his love is supposed to be like opposed to how the people who mistreated you represent the faith. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to but just know you’re loved and seen by God. He won’t force you to have a relationship because he wants it to be genuine and he won’t intervene with anything in your life unless you go to him and ask. He’ll provide so much if you let him. 🩷

You're no better than any of the people you're talking about for one simple reason

I told you I'm agnostic and don't want religion on my page. You disrespected my right to not participate in religion by coming onto my page to push your religion

You clearly have no respect for me and my choices even it you claim to. Your words are nothing but a gross attempt at justification

Pushing religion on people, especially people that have already stated their beliefs, is a disgusting overstepping of boundaries

Not so kindly fuck off my page. Show up in my asks again and I'll block you. Have some fucking respect for other people religious choices

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soleilpinto · 3 days ago

Text

Cruising in Papaya: Media Trap ˚‧｡⋆🍁

“Life’s Better on Saturn ” ˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚ (Saturn, SZA)

Synopsis: Y/N Laurant, a glamorous socialite, meets Lando Norris during a race weekend, sparks fly between the two, but as their feelings deepen, they struggle to balance their secret relationship with their public lives, all while navigating the pressure of the fast-paced F1 scene.

Genre: (Some) Angst, Fluff, Romance

AU: Social Media and Written!au

Pairing: Lando x Afab!Socialite!Reader

Warnings: They fight and Lando’s an asshole, that’s really it

Note: A bit overdue (4 days) but I’ve reached 100 followers and couldn’t be happier! I’m so grateful that this blog I started a month ago is already in the works and publishing fics that are getting good feedback. It’s not perfect but it’s honest work, so thank you guys so much! As always, don’t forget to like + reblog to help me and other writers.

Cruising in Papaya Masterlist. (Prev./Next.)

@papayafansunite LMAO pietra really fumbled the bag by posting a pic of y/n and lando for y/n’s birthday and deleting it. you can’t escape the f1 fandom’s eyes 👁️👁️

@F1TeaHunter Why would Pietra post a photo with Y/N and Lando for Y/n’s birthday and then DELETE IT? Like girl, we already saw it, the internet never forgets 👀

@GridSideDrama Not Pietra accidentally exposing Y/N and Lando on her IG story before deleting it faster than I could screenshot 😭😭 The chaos

liked by lando, pietra.pilao and others

yvesaintlaurant chapter 22 is wild 🥳

maxfewtrell you and lando are a bunch of crazies

— yvesaintlaurant you guys love us though

lando happy birthday my gorgeous girl

— yvesaintlaurant i love you so much

liked by lando, maxfewtrell and others

laurant.yn alexa, play 22 by taylor swift

pietra.pilao love you ! x

lilymhe prettiest girl ever

The morning after Pietra’s accidental slip-up, everything felt different. The weight of the media buzz settled heavily on your shoulders. Notifications from every direction flooded your phone, pulling you into a frenzy of gossip, assumptions, and judgments.

You weren’t used to this kind of attention—not the invasive kind that followed every step you took. In the silence of the hotel room, as you stared at the screen, it felt like the walls were closing in, making it harder to breathe. The perfect life that had once seemed so effortless now felt like a cage.

You could hear Lando’s restless pacing behind you. He was angry, but you knew that anger wasn’t just about the photo. He was frustrated, trapped in the spotlight, and he couldn’t even see it from your side.

You had to get out, but not just physically. You had to get away from the pressure of it all, from the constant scrutiny of the world.

Lando let out a sharp exhale. "I can’t believe this, Y/N," he muttered, his tone laced with irritation.

"One photo, and now the entire world is going wild. They’re taking everything and twisting it. Do they have any idea what this feels like?"

You sat still, refusing to let the anxiety bubble to the surface. You could feel his frustration swirling in the air, but instead of letting it consume you, you tried to stay calm.

"I get it, Lando. I really do. But it’s not just about one photo. It’s the constant digging into our lives. The questions, the assumptions—it doesn’t stop. We can’t keep pretending that it’s fine when we’re both feeling suffocated by it."

His eyes snapped to you, his expression hardening. "And what? You think I’m the one making this harder? You think I wanted this? I didn’t ask for any of it, Y/N."

The words hit harder than you expected, and your chest tightened. You hadn’t come into this relationship wanting to be just another headline or another story.

You hadn’t come into this relationship to be scrutinized under a microscope. You had wanted something real, and maybe, just maybe, you were naïve for believing that could happen in the world they lived in.

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady, but it was hard.

"I’m not blaming you, Lando. But you can’t keep acting like none of this affects you. It’s not just about the fame or the racing—it’s about how we handle this. How we handle each other when it all starts falling apart."

The silence that followed felt heavy—thick with unsaid words and pent-up frustration. Lando stood there, staring at you, his lips pressed tight, and you saw the exhaustion in his eyes.

This wasn’t just about the paparazzi or the media. It was about you, about him, and about whether you both could keep something real in the midst of all the noise.

Lando’s voice broke the silence, his frustration spilling out in a rush.

"You just don’t get it, do you? I’m under constant pressure, every damn day. People watching my every move, judging me for everything. And I’m supposed to just deal with it and pretend it’s all fine? That’s not how it works, Y/N. I don’t need someone who isn’t ready to handle it with me. Someone who’s not tough enough to stick with it."

The sting of his words hit you square in the chest, making your breath catch in your throat. You stood there, the frustration boiling up in your veins, but it wasn’t just frustration—it was hurt.

The implication that you weren’t strong enough, that you couldn’t handle it, cut deeper than any of the media’s harshest critiques. And before you knew it, the anger welled up, pushing you to the brink.

"What do you mean by that?" You demanded, your voice growing sharp. "If you’re implying that I’m not tough enough to deal with this, then maybe I don’t want to be a part of it at all."

The words hung in the air between you both. Lando opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and you saw the moment his words faltered. His face shifted from anger to something else—regret, perhaps, but it was too late. The damage had already been done.

The accusation still stung, a reminder that all the glitter and glam of the world he lived in came with a sharp edge.

You grabbed your bag, moving toward the door. The room felt too small, the space between you suffocating. You needed air. You needed space. You needed to think. You couldn’t stay here, couldn’t stand being in the same room with someone who had just cast doubt on your strength.

Lando’s voice followed you, softer now. "Y/N... Wait."

But you didn’t wait. You couldn’t. You couldn’t stand there, looking at the person you cared about, and still feel like you were walking a tightrope between his world and yours.

Without turning back, you walked out of the room and out of his life for the moment. You needed space, time to think, to breathe. You didn’t know where that space would lead, or what it would mean for you and Lando. But right now, all you knew was that you couldn’t stay, not after the way things had gone down.

You couldn’t get out of that hotel room fast enough. The tension in the air, the harsh words exchanged, it all felt too much to bear.

You needed to escape—needed space to think without the constant weight of everything pressing down on you.

The second you had the chance, you made arrangements for a flight back home. No commercial airlines, no layovers. Just the quickest way out.

Now, as you sat in the plush interior of the private jet, the hum of the engines was the only sound keeping you company. The calm surroundings contrasted with the storm of emotions swirling inside you. The leather seats felt cold, and sterile even, as if the jet itself knew this wasn’t how you’d imagined this day to go.

It should’ve been a time for celebration, but instead, everything felt fragile.

Your phone buzzed several times with missed calls and texts from Lando, but you ignored them. You didn’t want to talk yet. You needed time, and you needed it now.

As the plane soared into the sky, you leaned back in your seat, staring out at the endless horizon. The city lights of London had already faded away, and you were now floating high above the clouds, on your way to Saint Tropez.

You didn’t know what the future held. All you knew was that you needed time—time to clear your head, to figure out what was real between you and Lando when everything felt like it was on the verge of collapsing.

The jet cut through the sky, but it didn’t erase the uncertainty in your chest. It felt like everything you had built with him, all the quiet moments, the stolen glances, the subtle connection, had been shattered in an instant.

Would it ever go back to how it was? Or had this secret life you lived together been nothing more than an illusion?

The next morning, as you settled into the quiet of your private home in Saint Tropez, your phone buzzed again. It was a message from Pietra.

“Hey, I’m so sorry about everything. I never meant to cause any drama. I didn’t know things were… tense between you and Lando. Please don’t hold it against me. I hope you’re okay.”

You stared at the screen for a moment, feeling a pang of guilt. Pietra had no idea about the argument that had erupted between you and Lando. You knew it wasn’t entirely her fault, even if her slip-up had fueled the fire.

You quickly typed back, “It’s okay, P. I know it wasn’t intentional. Don’t worry about it.”

You hit send, but a heavy sigh left your lips as you leaned back against the couch. You could forgive Pietra, but as for Lando… You weren’t sure if you had it in you just yet.

At the Dutch Grand Prix, a month after your fight, Lando was a shadow of the driver everyone had come to know. His focus, usually sharp and steady, was off. Every turn seemed rougher than usual, and his usual precision was replaced with erratic movements that left his crew and teammates exchanging worried glances.

The frustrations that had built up over the past few days were clearly spilling over, but it was more than just race-related stress. Everyone knew that something was eating at him, something personal—and it was showing on the track.

Oscar sat by the pit wall, his eyes fixed on the monitors, but his mind wasn’t on the race. He could see it: Lando was tense, snapping at the team, his mind elsewhere. Oscar knew that look. He’d seen it before.

"You talked to him today?" he asked, glancing at George, who stood nearby.

"No," George said, his face creased with concern. "I don’t think he’s in a good place. I’ve never seen him like this before."

Oscar sighed. "He’s got something on his mind. It’s not just the race. It’s like... he's not even here with us. He’s distracted, running on fumes."

Alex, who had been talking to a few other members of the team, approached the group.

"Have you noticed how he's been since... well, everything went public? I’m pretty sure he’s having a hard time adjusting to all the media heat."

“Yeah, I’ve seen it. He’s keeping his distance, not his usual self,” Oscar said, glancing back at Lando, who was visibly irritated in the garage, wiping the sweat from his forehead and running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Lando’s mind was still spiraling. He knew the rumors were everywhere. The relationship with you, how it had been exposed, how things had gotten out of hand in the media.

He tried to block it all out, tried to focus on the car, on the race, but he couldn’t. Every turn reminded him of you, of how he’d hurt you, and of everything that had been said behind his back.

“I can’t focus, Oscar,” Lando muttered to his teammate as he finally sat down after a particularly frustrating lap. "I don’t know if I can do this."

Oscar could tell he was on the edge. “Lando, what’s going on? Talk to me. We’re all worried about you.”

Lando met Oscar’s gaze, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to break down. But he just shook his head and stood up, taking a deep breath.

“It’s nothing. Just racing stuff.”

Oscar wasn’t convinced. “You can’t keep everything bottled up, mate. We’re here for you, you know that, right?”

Lando didn’t respond. Instead, his gaze drifted to the pit wall again, where the media and his fans were all waiting for a glimpse of him, a piece of the story.

The questions about you, about your relationship, echoed in his mind, and the frustration only built. The media circus surrounding him was nothing compared to the one inside his head. He needed to fix things—he just didn’t know how.

The rest of the team noticed it too. Alex, George, and the rest of McLaren’s crew were starting to sense the tension. They could see that Lando wasn’t himself, and the questions about why you weren’t by his side were starting to surface.

“Where’s Y/N?” Alex asked, noticing the gap in Lando’s usually upbeat demeanor. “Isn’t she usually with him at these races?”

George added, “Yeah, I haven’t seen her here. It’s weird... I thought they were pretty serious. If anything, I thought she’d be here to support him.”

Lando’s chest tightened at the mention of you. He hadn’t heard from you in days, and the silence was eating away at him. His racing pace was faltering, his relationship with you hanging by a thread, and now he was in the middle of a Grand Prix weekend, struggling to find the balance between the man he was and the person he wanted to be for you.

"Let’s just focus on the race," Lando muttered, turning away from the group, but Oscar could see the cracks in his armor. His teammate was hurting, and there was only so much he could do to help.

The race went on, but the weight on Lando’s shoulders wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

liked by lettiemng, littlefoxhermes and others

yvesaintlaurant homesick

alexandrasaintmleux cheer up baby, love you

francisca.cgomes i hope you feel better soon

@GossipOnGrid Sources close to the paddock say Y/N and Lando might have cooled things off. Too much drama around them after their relationship went public? 😬 #F1Rumors

@papayachatter lowkey think it’s better if lando and y/n aren’t together. he needs to focus on his career, and she’s got her own life in the spotlight. mixing worlds never ends well

@SpeedyTea Okay, but if Lando and Y/N did break up, can we agree the media ruined it for them? Privacy is a thing, people! Let them live🙄

"Y/N Laurant Spotted Partying in Saint Tropez—Is She Moving On from F1 Drama?" The socialite was seen enjoying herself at an exclusive yacht party in Saint Tropez, surrounded by her inner circle. No mention of F1 or Lando Norris in sight.

"Y/N Laurant Reclaims Her Spotlight with Glamorous Appearances Across Europe" The style icon seems to have fully embraced her pre-F1 lifestyle, spotted at high-profile galas and exclusive beach clubs. Fans speculate she’s leaving the motorsport world behind.

"Y/N Laurant Back on the Socialite Circuit—Fans Wonder If She’s Done with F1" The internet is abuzz with sightings of Y/N at exclusive events in Milan and Saint Tropez, fueling rumors that her connection to the motorsport world has fizzled out.

You watched from your home in Saint Tropez as the headline flashed across your phone screen: Lando Norris Takes Victory in Zandvoort, But Where is His Girlfriend? The picture of Lando, jubilant in the McLaren team shirt, felt bittersweet as you swiped through.

You wanted to be there for him, to share that moment, but the hurt was still too fresh, the unresolved tension between you both too real.

Instead, you sat alone in your family home, sipping on a glass of rosé, trying to make sense of the growing distance between you two. It stung to see him celebrating, winning, and yet, you weren't part of that.

The emptiness that had begun to creep into your life after everything that went down after Silverstone still hadn't dissipated.

The headlines made your stomach churn as they speculated about why the two of you weren't seen together. "Y/N Laurant Spotted with Friends in Milan, but Where’s her speculated boyfriend, F1 Driver Lando Norris? "

They didn’t know the half of it, but you didn’t have the energy to clarify. You couldn’t. All you could focus on was your own life, what you were supposed to be doing, and how to ignore the rawness of it all.

Your sister, Léonie, stepped into the room, her eyes catching the somber mood immediately. She crossed the room, slipping into the seat beside you on the plush velvet couch.

"You're still upset, aren’t you?" she asked, her voice gentle but knowing.

You didn’t respond at first, instead, choosing to look down at your phone again, checking the race results and his victory. You couldn’t help the pang in your chest, but the walls had already been built too high to let him back in.

"I’m fine," you lied.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "You don't need to hide it, Y/N. I can see it." She gently touched your arm, offering a soft smile.

"You’re allowed to feel hurt. But please don’t hide it from me."

You bit your lip, letting the vulnerability seep through despite your best attempts to keep it at bay.

"I just don't know anymore," you whispered. "I thought we had something real. But it feels like... like the pressure from the outside world just ruined it. I don’t think I can handle being in his life if this is how it’s always going to be."

Léonie nodded slowly, understanding the complexity of it all.

"You’re right to feel hurt, but you also don’t have to let the media or the world decide how you should feel. Relationships are hard, especially when you're constantly under a microscope. But you don't need to be afraid of what you feel."

You sighed deeply, pushing a strand of hair out of your face. "I don’t even know if I want to try anymore. The spotlight, the expectations—it’s all too much. It just feels... suffocating."

Léonie's gaze softened, her voice tender as she spoke.

"You’re allowed to protect yourself, Y/N. And if you don’t think you can handle the pressure, that’s okay. But you can’t let it take away what you feel for him, if it’s still there. You need to decide what makes you happy, not anyone else. Not the tabloids, not the fans, and definitely not the people who think they know your heart better than you do."

You let out a long breath, the weight of the situation still heavy on your chest.

"I just don't know if it's worth it anymore. Everything’s a mess, and I don't want to make any more mistakes."

Léonie gave you a reassuring squeeze. "You’ll figure it out, one way or another. But don't shut out what you’re feeling just because it’s hard. Your heart is allowed to be conflicted. Just take things one step at a time."

You nodded, but the ache in your chest didn’t disappear. It couldn’t. The media was relentless, and the world was waiting for an answer. You just weren’t sure if you could give one right now.

Lando stared blankly at the screen of his phone, scrolling through social media, his heart sinking with every photo he saw of you. You looked stunning, as always, a radiant smile on your face as you sipped champagne on a yacht in Saint Tropez.

You were surrounded by your friends, living the life of a carefree socialite, and to the world, you seemed like you were thriving. But to Lando, it was a reminder of how much you seemed to be moving on—without him.

He tossed his phone onto the bed in frustration, running a hand through his messy curls. The chaos in his life had reached a boiling point. On the track, he was off his game. He missed braking points, his focus shattered by the memory of you.

The paddock felt emptier without your quiet support, your grounding presence. Even Oscar had started giving him side-eyes, his usual quips about Lando’s "lovesick puppy" phase having faded into genuine concern.

The worst part was that Lando couldn’t shake the nagging thought that maybe this was his fault. Maybe he’d pushed too hard, said the wrong thing, and now you were gone, living the life you had before he barged into it. His chest ached at the idea that you were happier without him.

“Mate, you’re spiraling,” Max Fewtrell said over a late-night FaceTime, his tone unusually serious. “You’re not even yourself anymore. Just talk to her.”

“I can’t just talk to her, Max,” Lando snapped, pacing the hotel room. “What if she doesn’t want to hear it? What if she’s done?”

Max raised an eyebrow. “What if she’s not? What if she’s waiting for you to make the first move? You can’t sit around moping forever. She’s not going to chase you, and you know it.”

Lando sat down on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. He knew Max was right. He had to stop overthinking and do something. But the fear of rejection loomed large.

He’d messed up, and he wasn’t sure if there was a way to fix it.

By the time the Azerbaijan Grand Prix weekend rolled around, Lando had made up his mind. He heard from some mutual friends that you might be there with them. He knew you still had ties to the paddock, even if you weren’t there for him anymore.

The thought of seeing you, even just for a moment, sent a mix of hope and dread coursing through him.

He stood in the garage on Friday, pretending to review data with his engineer, but his mind was elsewhere. He caught sight of a group entering the paddock—your friends. His heart raced. If they were here, there was a chance you were too.

“Lando,” Oscar nudged him, pulling him out of his trance. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just—yeah,” Lando mumbled, glancing around.

Oscar tilted his head knowingly. “You think she’s here, don’t you?”

Lando didn’t respond, but the answer was written all over his face. He clenched his fists, taking a deep breath. He had to find a way to talk to you. He owed it to you—to himself—to try.

As he walked toward the hospitality area later that evening, his mind raced with what he’d say. He didn’t have a plan, just an overwhelming need to see you, to remind you of what you’d meant to each other.

To see if there was still a chance, even if it was slim.

The tension in his chest was unbearable, but he knew one thing: he couldn’t let you slip away without trying to fix what was broken.

Taglist: @bakingpiastries @linnygirl09

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arcane-ish · 2 days ago

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I get people can wish for what they want but imo any "Silco was a perfect Saint before Vander traumatized him" just never made sense to me because if how base on dialogue Vander clearly thinks Silco is capable of terrible things.

If the last thing he remembers of Silco before hurting him was Silco being just sweet and idealistic and only thinking of helping people then it doesn't make sense that he would accuse Silco of doing things for pride.

And even if you headcanon that that is Vander like diverting from himself what of him pleading with Silco not to hurt the Lanes?

If Silco was the Saint of the Lanes then people would remember him more positively, then it wouldn't make sense that Sevika goes to him because Vander is not extreme enough and Vander would not have reason to assume that Silco would ever hurt the Lanes.

"For what? Pride?" Why accuse him of that if Vander knows that Silco was motivated by kindness before?

"that was never enough for you" Suggesting that Vander remembers Silco who was demanding in their together days.

"In fighting topside, you'd sacrifice everything that we are." Again, if Vander was the violent one before and Silco was the peaceful one, wouldn't Vander say "you sacrificed everything you are/were"?

"Kill me if you have to, but please spare the Lanes." Again if Silco was the sweet one who protected people, why would Vander fear for the Lanes? If he remembers a sweet Silco why would he assume Silco would ever take things out on the Lanes?

Imo a characterisation where Silco was the nice one and Vander was the evil one who ruined him, feels guilty about that and ironically became peaceful just doesn't make sense with what we saw in season 1 where Vander very clearly thinks Silco is capable of doing bad shit.

Again this doesn't mean I assume that Vander wasn't violent or saintly before. Like I can funny buy that maybe as the more physical one he had a higher body count.

I'm not the biggest fan of the Felicia addition but the characterisation that Silco was the pushier one (but maybe still with moral qualms/still capable of being swayed) and Vander was having moral qualms or became more hesitant earlier, before their falling out imo makes perfect sense with what we were shown in season one. So, yeah, the idea that Silco was the "dove" and Vander was the "hawk" before the Drowning just imo makes no sense with the characterisation seen in season 1. The idea that they already were moving in different directions, that there was a turning point and they afterwards went more extreme in the direction they had already been moving into always was the more realistic option with what s1 showed.

To me all the people disappointed that we didn't get an arc about Vi hating Vander and realizing Silco was actually the bestest ever usually strikes me more as people being possessive/territorial about Silco rather than doing realistic extrapolation of what we saw in season 1. Especially imo the show still did do a version of "Vi doesn't follow Vander's path and Vi does gain a more nuanced view on Jinx", it's just more subtle.

Vander's "order" was protect the family/take care of Powder. And her arc is still about letting go of that idea of taking care of Powder/centering her life around protecting others. That arc wouldn't be made better by "Vi realizes that Vander was bad actually and that's why she shouldn't follow what he said".

And no, Vi never sits down and says "actually Silco was awesome/Silco was the better man/Silco rules, Vander drools". But imo she does gain a more nuanced view on Jinx. (And yes they share that moment in the mines with Vander's letter, but I don't think it's that weird that Vi is too stubborn to just turn around openly 100% but imo that she asks Jinx to use her powers "for good" shows her turnaround on Jinx the most). And with how linked Silco is to Jinx in Vi's mind imo that is all mingled together, even if it's Ekko is the one who gets explicit "seeing a different side if Silco" story rather than Vi.

(imo both girls have an arc about choosing their own paths where they don't abolish the influence of their fathers but also don't follow what their fathers would have wanted)

What I wanted from the Vander and Silco flashbacks was subversion and heartbreak.

I wanted younger Silco to be fairly peaceful, someone focused on building up resources and separating Zaun from Piltover with minimal casualties on their end. I wanted him to be someone who says "wait, bid your time, don't push until your ready" type.

I wanted younger Vander to be hotheaded, impatient, someone focused on immediate action and immediate results. Someone who says "don't wait, act, do now rather than later" type.

I wanted Vi and Jinx meeting someone who was part of the failed rebellion while trying to help Warwick-Vander. I wanted Vi to be forced to recognize that Vander wasn't always a good person and Silco wasn't always a bad person. I wanted Jinx to accept that Silco became a bad person and so did she, but people change and so could she.

I wanted a flashback where Vander tries to get rid of Silco because despite being the "Hound,' Silco is the one with the leash and is the one people follow. I wanted Vander, the bigger "brother" to take leadership by force after years of looking up to Silco and growing disillusioned by the constant "wait, we're not ready." And the fail spectacularly and see all the misery he wrought and would continue to contribute to - because the aftermath of failed uprisings involve way more death than the ones directly involved.

Imagine Vander trying to become more like Silco. Patient, contemplative, community focused. And not truly hitting the mark because he still doesn't understand that patience and pacifism aren't the same thing - the goal was war, but with preparation. Acknowledge Vander's failures and shortcomings as a leader, have him compare himself and be compared by others to what Silco once was.

Silco built the Lanes so people had a safe place. Silco owned the Last Drop and funded the rebel group through it. Silco led a rebellion in the mines. Silco got them breathers or plants to clean the air. Silco never worked with Enforcers. Silco never let a death be in vain.

I especially wanted Warwick/Vander to struggle with his past while coming back to himself. An episode just of this and nothing else, tied together by the chain of violence building up to a proper war between Zaun and Piltover with Silco's voice in Jinx's head encouraging her to become Zaun's champion. It would've been a lot better than what we got.

Making it boil down to Felicia's death just sours it all. Vander adopting random children he orphaned and changing because of HIS failure was interesting characterization. It being for his close friend's children is major downgrade. Him trying to kill his other friend because of it and NOT for a greater reason is straight trash.

Seriously, no hate to Felicia, but her being part of the friendship was pointless. How do the kids not know who Silco is if she was so close with them? Her being someone they knew through their rebel group would've been fine, but so close as depicted and yet no ties to the story otherwise? Her death being Vander's reason for trying to kill Silco? Dude claims the events on the bridge changed him - but he still ends up being a violent monster betraying Silco.

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