#(i just run out of ideas for the second graphic lol)

[yazmarina]

close to you

for hit play, a drabble event.

—"break my heart and start a fire, you got me overnight, just let me be" (close to you by gracie abrams)

oscar piastri (f1) x afab!reader

warnings/notes: smut, protected sex, cunnilingus, first date, basically you match with oscar on a dating app lol

a/n: what a weekend guys. have this as the cherry on top <3

You never really expected anything much to come out of it.

You swiped right on the app, highly suspicious if this was really even him, but for the plot (as the kids say), you wanted to try anyway.

The screen graphics confirmed that it was a match and you felt your blood run cold.

Oscar Piastri, Formula 1 driver, had matched with you on a dating app.

You locked your phone and paced about the room for a solid five minutes, refusing to pick your device back up. You yelped as you saw the screen light up. You shoved it under your pillow, rushing out of the room and pacing even more, but this time, around your living room.

It took another ten minutes for you to gingerly return to your room, your trembling hand flipping your phone upright to expose your notifications.

Oscar: Hey :)

You nearly dashed out onto your balcony and leaped off the edge right then. With bated breath, you tapped on the notification, thoughts cycling seemingly a million miles a second.

You: Hi! Fancy seeing you here haha

You groaned immediately after sending the message, cringing at the utter lack of eloquence.

A sob nearly escapes your lips when you see his reply.

Oscar: Don't tell on me, then ;) I take it you're a fan?

"You have no idea, Oscar Piastri," you whispered to yourself as you tried to maintain a semblance of composure in your following messages.

You really should have practiced restraint, a cautious approach to this whole situation. What if it was some sort of poser? What if whichever dickhead pretending to be Oscar posts your responses online to dunk on you? Your face was exposed, goddammit.

But after two hours of messaging and a selfie sent from his side to prove that, yes, he really was Formula 1 driver Oscar Piastri, the two of you agreed to meet the next day.

You're still not fully convinced at that point but you decided to go with it. You sent a vague yet urgent message to your friend who lives nearby, in case you need an escape plan.

You covered all your bases, said all your prayers, and plucked every stray eyebrow into perfection.

Your heart nearly gives out now as you look up to see Oscar approaching your table, the sun gleaming down, casting a glow on his wavy brown hair. You're seated just outside the restaurant doors, the breeze gently displacing some of your own hair.

A nervous giggle escapes you as you tuck your hair back in place. Oscar beams and pulls the chair out in front of you.

"Hi. Sorry to keep you waiting."

You shake your head almost instantly. "No, it's okay. I wasn't here for long."

Oscar smiles even wider and you clamp your hands together under the table to stop them from shaking.

"It's nice to meet you," Oscar says, reaching his hand out. You chuckle at the formality but grasp his hand in yours nonetheless.

"Same here. Though, I'm a little nervous," you reply.

"Though, I hope you aren't super weirded out about going on a date with a fan," you rush out. "I just really enjoy the sport and I think you're a great driver."

You see a hint of pink dusting Oscar's cheeks. Your own face heats up at the realization.

"It's fine," Oscar consoles. "Thanks, by the way. I mean, you're gorgeous, so you're not the only one in awe here."

Oscar's eyes widen as he realizes the words that had come tumbling out of his mouth. Your own jaw slackens and another nervous laugh rises from your chest.

"Thank you," you manage to splutter out. "I-I don't know what else to say to that without sounding like some lovesick fan."

Oscar bursts out laughing, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. You realize that every inch of skin above his shirt collar is tinged with red.

"I think that's our signal to order," Oscar offers, flipping through the menu in front of him.

You nod silently, doing the same.

-

The text you send to your friend after your lunch with Oscar is just as vague, if not a little more.

You tell them that your date went well and that you'll be moving to another place. You don't exactly clarify what this other place is, but with the way your friend tells you to be safe and call immediately if anything goes wrong, you know that they're aware of where this is going.

You lean back, comfortable in the passenger seat of Oscar's car. You set your phone down, sneaking a peek at the man beside you, and for a split second your eyes meet.

"You good?" Oscar asks, his eyes trained back on the road. There's an easy smile playing on his lips and you can still see pink on his cheeks.

"Yeah," you say, digging through your purse and retrieving some breath mints. You pop two in your mouth and you offer Oscar the container.

You smile knowingly as Oscar glances at your outstretched hand, his smile widening into a bashful grin.

"Want some?" you offer, toying with the candy in your mouth. Just then, you come upon a stoplight and Oscar turns to you fully.

He holds up his palm and you shake out two more mints onto his awaiting hand. Oscar places them in his mouth, watching as you put the candies away.

"Any particular reason you'd be needing breath mints?" Oscar asks almost playfully.

You snicker. "Not really. Just wanted to get the taste of food out of my mouth."

Oscar hums, eyes trailing down your face. You can see him continue to suck on the mints but he soon loses his patience and bites down, grinding his teeth.

Yours are all dissolved, the fresh sting of spearmint settling on your tongue.

"I don't really do this," Oscar suddenly declares.

You raise both of your eyebrows. "Do what?"

"Take girls home on the first date."

A grin settles on your face as you hear the words. You lean in closer, over the center console, noting the way Oscar inhales as you do so.

"I'm flattered," you admit. Oscar laughs, mirroring your posture, the proximity between you two diminishing.

Oscar kisses you, tenderly at first, his hand automatically coming up to hold you in place. It's easy to forget that it's the middle of the day in sunny Monaco, the tint on his car windows not the ideal shade to necessarily hide what you're doing.

You pull, back glancing at the stoplight just as it turns green.

It takes a honk from the car behind you to get Oscar out of his daze.

-

Oscar is a gracious host, as you quickly learn. Gracious in a way that his hands immediately cradle you close the second his front door latches shut. His lips are just as welcoming as they trail down your neck, careful and almost nervous. It's also so hospitable how he so eagerly ushers you into his room, settling you down on the sheets as he does all the work for you.

Your clothes are stripped one by one and the familiar anxiety rises back up in your throat. Oscar senses the shift in your mood and pauses just as he's undoing his own pants.

"We don't have to," Oscar offers, taking ahold of one side of your face.

You kick yourself in your mind. This is an opportunity you would never pass up and it's right in the palm of your hand.

You shake your head. "I want to. I really want to. With you."

Oscar grins and practically tackles you down on the bed. It takes some effort but the rest of his clothes finally come off and the two of you lay bare on his bed.

You can feel the desperation in his movements and you reciprocate with as much eagerness. You think for a moment what it could have been in your lunch that caused the both of you to just want to jump in bed together, but you ultimately doubt that the tapas had anything to do with it.

It feels surreal, having Oscar's mouth on your core, and even more unbelievable the way his fingers work as if they already know you, how to please you. You're trembling by the time Oscar comes back up, lips smeared with your arousal.

You blink the tears out of your eyes as you watch Oscar reach over to his nightstand, expertly dispensing a condom, rolling it down on his rock-hard shaft.

You scramble to get him close, not even caring about how quick he plunges inside you, the stretch eliciting a hiss from between your teeth. You relax and Oscar takes this as a sign to start moving.

"Jesus, fuck—" Oscar curses. "You're fucking tight."

You let out a breath, holding Oscar's body close as he fucks you, steady and unrelenting.

You don't particularly care if everything he's said up to this point is a lie. You could be his fifth this week, you could be herded out his apartment the moment he finishes. You really don't mind, not when he feels this good inside you.

"Oscar," you gasp as he starts to pick up his pace. Even that doesn't seem real. The way his name rolls off your tongue registers like a faraway dream to you.

Oscar pulls back to look at you, his hair falling over his eyes. You've gushed about this exact look a few times online. The thought embarrasses you a bit and you can't help the blush that creeps up your neck.

"What?" Oscar asks, the corners of his mouth turning up as he watches you.

You shake your head. "Nothing. Don't look at me like that."

Oscar smirks, pressing his mouth to yours in a heady kiss. Your whines and moans are muffled as Oscar takes you closer and closer to your release. You claw at his back, digging your nails into his supple skin. Your hips start to move along with his, your own orgasm now within reach.

The two of you cum almost simultaneously and Oscar stills inside of you, his mouth hanging open as the euphoria completely washes over him. You're panting, eyes unfocused, even as Oscar pulls out to discard the condom.

Oscar plops back down beside you and you can't help the giggles that erupt as the two of you catch each other's eye.

"That was great," Oscar muses, staring at the ceiling, his hand patting around the bed until it finally finds yours. He slots his fingers between the spaces of your own.

You risk a peek at him and you take it all in. A strange feeling blooms in your chest.

Oscar turns to you and you quickly look away.

"It's kind of cute how you think I don't notice you looking," Oscar says, scooting closer.

You meet his eyes again and the strange feeling only flourishes. Pessimistically, you think of that one quote about never meeting your heroes. You start to think that it might be true.

The illusion is shattered. You've come too close. Icarus reincarnated, the sun staring you right back in the face.

You anticipate the sugarcoated rejection.

"Wanna stay over?"

You blink.

"Stay over?" You repeat rather plainly. Oscar nods.

"Yeah. I'll get us dinner." Oscar tucks your hair behind your ear. "Unless you'd rather I drive you home."

A giddy sort of sensation shoots through your body. You tentatively reach out, laying a hand on Oscar's face.

Maybe you could get just a little closer to the sun.

You peck his lips briefly, smiling as you pull away.

"No. I guess you can have me overnight."

[rafedarling]

𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐧’𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐲

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: you’re in labor with your second child, and drew is doing his best to be the perfect husband, even if your grip on his hand is cutting off circulation. rustyn, your little cheerleader, is there every step of the way, reminding you how strong you are.

warning(s): childbirth (not graphic), extreme fluff, Drew being a supportive husband, Rustyn being the cutest big brother, and some humorous moments.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora @issabellec7 @alexxavicry @rafestoothbrush

rafedarling’s note: i finally let sissy debut :) hope you enjoy this! i know it’s kinda short, but honestly, i have no experience in a labor room or being a supportive human for someone giving birth lol. if you have any ideas for drew with rustyn and lola, feel free to send them in! i’m always open to writing more about this little family.

“Babe, I love you, but I think you’re breaking my fingers.”

Drew winced dramatically as your grip tightened around his hand like a vice.

“Good!” you practically growled, another contraction rolling through you like a tidal wave of fire.

“You did this to me, Joseph Andrew Starkey!”

Rustyn, sitting beside Drew on a chair with his little legs swinging, gasped.

“Uh oh, Dada. Mama used your full name.”

Drew swallowed. “I know, buddy. I know.”

You let out a deep breath, trying to relax between contractions, and Rustyn leaned in, giving you a big, bright smile.

“Mama, you’re so strong!”

Despite the pain, your heart melted.

“Thank you, baby,” you said, managing to squeeze his little hand with your free one.

Drew grinned. “Yeah, Mama is the strongest.”

“Stronger than you, Dada?” Rustyn asked, tilting his head.

“Absolutely,” Drew nodded without hesitation.

“She’s, like, ten times stronger than me.”

Rustyn gasped again, eyes wide.

“Whoa.”

Just then, another contraction hit, and you groaned, squeezing Drew’s hand so hard that he made a small strangled noise.

“Okay, okay, definitely twenty times stronger,” he choked out.

Rustyn giggled. “You okay, Dada?”

“Peachy,” Drew wheezed.

A few hours, the most beautiful sound in the world filled the room.

Your baby girl’s first cry.

Tears welled up in your eyes as they placed the tiny, wriggling bundle onto your chest. The moment you felt her warmth against you, every ounce of pain melted away.

“Hi, baby girl,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Drew pressed a shaky kiss to your forehead, his eyes misty as he stared at your daughter in pure awe.

“She’s so perfect,” he murmured.

Not long after, once you were settled in a recovery room, the door creaked open, and Rustyn peeked inside hesitantly. The second he saw you awake and holding his baby sister, his little face lit up like Christmas morning.

“Mama!” he whispered excitedly, running over.

Drew scooped him up so he could see better, letting him sit beside you on the hospital bed.

Rustyn’s eyes widened as he stared at his sister.

“She’s so small,” he whispered, as if afraid to wake her.

You smiled. “She’ll grow, just like you did.”

He squinted, inspecting her face closely.

“Mama, she has your nose!”

Then he turned to his Dad, Drew. “And Dada’s eyes!”

You laughed softly.

“Just like you, Rusty.”

Rustyn beamed proudly, puffing his chest out.

“I knew she’d be cool like me!”

Drew chuckled, pressing a kiss to Rustyn’s temple.

“Of course, buddy. She’s got the best big brother in the world.”

Rustyn grinned, then suddenly turned serious.

“Mama?”

“Yes, baby?”

“You were so strong,” he said with pure admiration.

“Like… like a superhero!”

Your heart melted into a puddle right then and there.

“That means a lot, Rusty,” you whispered, kissing his cheek.

Drew leaned in, whispering in Rustyn’s ear,

“Hey, you know what we should do for Mama? We should let her pick the name.”

Rustyn nodded eagerly.

“Yeah, Mama should!”

You looked between your boys, then down at your daughter’s tiny sleeping face. The name you had been thinking of for months suddenly felt so right.

“Lola Mae,” you said softly.

Drew let out a soft laugh, his hand resting on your back.

“Lola Mae Starkey. That’s perfect.”

Rustyn gasped dramatically.

“Oooh, I like it!”

Drew pulled you in for a kiss, lingering for a long moment, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your back.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your lips.

“For her. For him. For us.”

Rustyn sighed dreamily.

“Wow, so romantic,” he mumbled to himself, making Drew chuckle against your lips.

You broke the kiss, laughing softly.

“Rusty, where did you learn that word?”

He shrugged. “I watch movies, Mama.”

Drew ruffled his hair.

“Alright, Casanova, let’s let Mama rest, huh?”

Rustyn nodded, carefully reaching out a tiny hand to his baby sister.

“I can’t wait to play dinosaurs with you, Sissy,” he whispered to her.

Drew and you exchanged amused glances, and as you watched Rustyn gently stroke his sister’s tiny fingers.

[jobean12-blog]

A Place Made for Love

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (No-outbreak Joel)

Word Count: 5,081

Summary: You're new to the small town Joel's lived in all his life and just the sight of you has him feeling a certain way so when he learns that you've bought the old bookshop and you're moving into the apartment above, it turns his familiar world upside down.

Author's Note: This one got away from me. I love the idea of Joel just living his life and doing construction and being grumpy and then reader comes along and really gives him a run for his money. Had to include a bookshop for this because along with Joel, it's one of my favorite things. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always!❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 🥰

PS Bold font means texts and anything italics is like an inner thought lol

Warnings: grumpy Joel, sassy reader, tension, flirting, softness and smiles, fluff and sweetness

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

You trudge down the canned food aisle feeling completely indecisive but hungry and growing more aggravated by the second.

As you round the next corner you’re sifting through the contents of your basket when you walk headfirst into what feels like the wall.

“Ow!” you yelp as you stumble back.

A strong arm wraps around your waist to steady you and you look up, blinking.

“Better watch where you’re goin’ there darlin’.”

Your body tenses at the feel of him pressed against you and you mutter something inaudible under your breath before slipping from his grasp.

“Not even a thank you,” he muses as he turns to follow you.

“Weren’t you going the other way?” you shoot back.

“Just realized I forgot the pasta,” he says, leaning over your shoulder to whisper the words close to your ear.

You force your betraying body to remain calm at his proximity and then ignore the comment.

“What the hell are you gonna make with that mish mosh?” he asks as he peeks into your basket.

“Why do you care?” you counter with a brittle smirk.

He shrugs as the corners of his mouth turn up into a grin.

“Maybe something to poison you with…that would be nice.”

Your sassy remark makes his whole face light up with a smile and it momentarily roots you to the spot.

With one last disgruntled glance you stomp off in the other direction. “Since I’m new here you’d think you’d be a little more neighborly!”

“Fuck,” Joel mutters as he follows you.

“Ok darlin’.”

“Ok what?” you ask as you turn to face him.

“Maybe…” and he paused, studying you. “I could be a bit more friendly.”

He looks back down at your basket.

“You know if you grab some beans and a pepper you’ll be well on your way to making a great chili.”

“Chili,” you repeat.

You look between him and the basket. “That works. Although…”

“You’ve never made it before?”

At his question you fight back a sigh.

“No. I haven’t. But I’m capable of looking up a recipe.”

“Or I could just tell you about some good take-out places.”

You roll your eyes.

“I can manage to cook my own dinner, thanks!”

At the sarcasm in your tone his grin widens before he starts to step around you, his arm brushing yours with the motion.

“Great darlin.’ Just don’t burn the place down or anything. It’s the only bookshop in the neighborhood and we all love it.”

He winks and saunters off.

The urge to turn around and watch him is almost overwhelming but you square your shoulder and keep your chin up. “I can make chili,” you assure yourself.

Joel sits across from Tommy and sips his beer, waiting for his brother to make a dinner choice.

If Tommy notices Joel glancing too many times at the small bookshop across the street, he doesn’t mention it.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Tommy remarks as he drops the menu and leans back. “What’s on your mind?”

Joel grunts before looking across the street again. “Work.”

“This new job we have is a big one. I want it to go perfectly so they hire us for the rest of it.” Joel continues.

Tommy nods in agreement but he’s battling a smile.

“Somethin’ you wanna say brother?” Joel asks.

Tommy grins. “I might have somethin’ to say.”

Joel grinds his teeth and tightens his grip on the beer bottle.

“Heard you had a little exchange with our new bookshop owner at the grocery store this mornin’.”

“Who said?” Joel asks, pinning Tommy with dark eyes.

“No one of importance,” Tommy shrugs. “You’re starin’ a hole through the window.”

Tommy’s eyes glitter. He’s clearly enjoying himself. “Heard she didn’t back down and run off over your…charm.”

“You’re worse than a school girl. Spreadin’ gossip around.”

That makes Tommy laugh and he takes a swig of his drink.

“Still,” Tommy says. “I can’t blame you…she’s real nice to look at and probably a lot of fun when you get her goin’…which you seem to enjoy doin’.”

“Tommy,” Joel warns as his jaw tightens. “Don’t go sniffin’ around any of that and don’t ask me to explain why.”

Tommy dips his head in understanding, his mouth tight in a straight line but his eyes bright with amusement.

“Not a single sniff. You’ve got my word brother…”

Tommy’s head swings around and his attention settles on something happening in the street. “What the hell…?”

Joel jerks his head in the same direction and in matter of seconds he’s out of his chair and charging through the door.

Without thinking he runs toward you and let’s out a breath when he looks you over, the large pot between your fingers and a garbage bag over your shoulder.

“Are you hurt?”

“No,” you breathe, staring at him. “Where the hell did you come from?”

His relief at the fact that you’re unharmed is obvious even as he takes the pot from you and grabs your wrists, turning your hands over to check.

His skin is warm and his fingers are calloused. The sensations cause your mind to go blank and you stand there motionless.

Once he’s satisfied he looks down at the pot and the black contents inside. He’s still holding your wrists.

“I burnt it,” you say quietly. “The whole upstairs apartment smells awful so I thought I’d better get rid of it quick before the shop started to stink.”

“I can take care…” Tommy begins to speak and Joel whips his head around just now realizing he was even standing there and glares so Tommy snaps his mouth shut.

Joel looks back at you and slowly releases you, the loss of his touch something you instantly feel.

Tommy covers a cough and you drag your eyes away from Joel to glance at his younger brother.

“Hey,” Tommy says and extends his hand.

You reach out and shake it to introduce yourself.

“I was saying I could help you out with that but I think my brother here has it under control,” Tommy quips.

“Damn right I do,” Joel says, hands on his hips.

“Thanks Tommy, I appreciate the offer,” you smile.

Tommy tips his head and walks back across the street to the bar.

Joel’s hard eyes turn to you in an assessing way but he remains silent.

“Aren’t you going to make some shitty remark about my cooking skills,” you snip.

His broad shoulders slump and he holds out his hand.

“Here, give me the bag.”

You hand the bag over and watch as he empties what he can of the contents and then stares down at it with pursed lips.

“Might have to…” he starts.

“You can just get rid…” you say at the same time.

He drops the pot into the bag with a laugh.

It catches you off guard and when he meets your eyes again the surprise is evident in your wide-eyed expression.

“No shitty remarks darlin.’ Just glad you’re ok…and you didn’t burn the place down.”

The last part of his comment trails off into quiet mumblings but you still catch it.

“Couldn’t help yourself huh?” you say but you’re fighting back a small smile.

The two of you stand there on the sidewalk for what feels like forever until Joel clears his throat and you look up at him through your lashes.

“Guess your dinner’s ruined,” he states.

“You could say that. I’ll have to go aimlessly walk around the grocery store some more in the hopes of finding food.”

His large hand runs through his already mussed hair before it settles on the back of his head and he shoves his free hand into his jeans pocket.

“Hey uh, listen darlin’…I’m sorry if I was rude earlier…at the store…and the other times before that. It was wrong of me.”

Your expression softens.

“Thank you, I accept.”

Joel hums and flicks his head toward the bar. “I had just ordered dinner before you came running out. Go in and eat it.”

When you stare at him he plays back his words and realizes they came out as a demand.

“If you want to,” he adds. “Join me. For food.”

You smile and slide past him. Your distinct and soft scent wafts up to his nose and he instinctively inhales, his eyes closing briefly before he starts to move to follow you.

He motions to the small table and pulls out your chair, waiting for you to sit before he does the same. His thick fingers wrap around the fork, making it look comically small, before he hands it to you and pushes the plate closer.

You stab a French fry and pop it in your mouth.

“So Tommy…you guys work together?”

“Yeah. Construction. We actually have a big project coming up in the city. Working on one of the new fancy hotel buildings.

“That sounds exciting. I guess it’s not really a 9-5 job then?”

“Nah, not really. Some days we spend doing small, odd jobs around the neighborhood and other times we’ll be on one job for weeks or months.”

You nod. “What do you do in your spare time? Besides follow women around the grocery store and make snarky comment on their food choices.”

“Gonna hold that over my head for long?” he asks.

You look him over and pretend to think about it. “Not sure yet.”

“Fair enough,” he sighs, noticing you stopped eating and nudging your arm with his elbow. “Eat.”

“Are you always this bossy?” you ask as you chew.

His eyes drop to your mouth and the way you lick the salt from your lips.

“Maybe,” he replies, the sides of his mouth twitching with a smile.

“Fair enough,” you tell him, mirroring his earlier words.

The whites of his teeth appear with his lopsided smile

“You plannin’ on trying to cook chili again?”

“Maybe,” you answer, loving the way his eyes crinkle at your repeated and mocking words.

“So now that you know a little more about me why not tell me why you’re here in our little town?”

He settles his forearms on the table and leans in, watching you with intense eyes.

“Well,” you start with a sigh. “I’ve always wanted to run or own a bookshop but my job in the city was keeping me so busy I barely had time to read and of course it’s easier said than done. For a while I didn’t mind…the work that is. Sure I was busy but I figured my life was just what it was supposed to be. Had a nice apartment, steady job, steady boyfriend…until I didn’t. He broke up with me over a text and then refused to answer my calls and explain why. After that, my job became less and less appealing as did living in the city so when his opportunity came up I had to jump on it as scary as all the change is.”

You wait and hold his gaze. “What are you thinking?” you ask.

“I’m thinking a lot of things,” he says quietly before stealing a fry off the plate.

“Like?” you ask.

Like where I can find your ex-boyfriend so I can give him a proper beating.

When he still doesn’t speak you continue talking. “I’m thinking about the renovations I want to make to the bookshop. It’s nothing crazy. Just some minor changes to make it more of a cozy space.”

“That sounds nice,” he answers. “It could use some upgrades.”

“Definitely. And the door to my apartment upstairs doesn’t even lock! I need to get that fixed first.”

Joel’s eyes narrow at your statement. “That’s not safe.”

You smirk and steal the next fry that’s dangling between his fingers as they hover over the plate.

“Maybe I’ll look up some cute contractors online to come help me.”

He sits back, crossing his arms over his chest and spreading his legs wider under the table. Your gaze moves to the way his biceps pop under the tight fabric of his shirt.

“You could. If you wanted the job done poorly.”

“Are you saying you’d be able to do a better job?”

“Damn right darlin.”

Was this still about renovations to the shop?

With that thought still floating around in his brain he watches you stand and pop one last fry into your mouth.

“Thank you for sharing your dinner with me,” you say before rounding the table. “I like it when you’re nice.”

And I even like it when you’re bossy. Maybe too much.

You kept that last thought tucked away and lean down to kiss him on the cheek before lightly brushing your hand over his shoulder and walking out the door.

Tommy drops into the now empty seat, grinning ear to ear.

“How’d that go boss?” he asks.

“Shut it,” Joel growls.

Later that week with the sun just peeking above the horizon you hear a knock at your door. It startles you into alertness and you sit up with a gasp, dropping your book to the bed.

Your feet hit the cool floor and you ask, “who’s there?,” hoping to keep the shakiness from your voice.

“It’s Joel.”

“Oh,” you whisper, now suddenly even more alert but much less jumpy.

Before you open the door you quickly run a hand over your face and scrub away the sleepiness. You turn the knob and have it halfway open before you realize you’re barely dressed, the only thing covering your body is the old tee shirt that hits way above your knees.

You stop and peek through.

“I’m um…I’m not really dressed. I was in bed reading.”

“Shit,” Joel mutters. “Sorry darlin.’ I didn’t even realize the time. I can wait till you’ve put somethin’ on.”

He doesn’t move away from the door and you open it a little wider before slipping away to grab shorts.

“Fuck,” he mutters quietly but not quietly enough and your lips turn up into a triumphant smile.

When you return you open the door invitingly and then notice the toolbox at his feet and meet his eyes.

His cheeks are dusted with pink and not even the scruff lining them can cover it. It’s hard to hide your smug satisfaction but you do your best.

“What’s that for?” you ask.

“I came to change the lock for you,” he explains hoarsely.

“Oh,” you answer, feeling your stomach erupt with nervous energy. “Why?”

“I’m leaving this morning. To go to the city and start on that hotel job. Won’t be back for a few days. I just…”

He kneels down and starts rummaging through the tool box, metal clanging against metal so you can barely hear him when he adds, “wanted to make sure this place was safe and secure.”

Your fingers fiddle with the hem of your old shirt.

“That’s really nice of you.”

“Well.” He stands and starts working on the door. “I saw you hadn’t done it yet and I didn’t want you calling any random guys.”

“Because you can do it better. Right?”

He doesn’t look up from his work and just grunts his acknowledgement.

You take the opportunity to move toward the small kitchen area and start making some coffee.

“Coffee?” you offer.

He looks up at you as you lean against the counter with your bare legs on display. His eyes drag down the length of them before he shakes his head no.

“Already had a cup thanks.”

He finishes the lock and puts his tools away before approaching. His hand moves to his back pocket and he pulls out some folded papers, setting them on the counter.

“I brought some take out menus.”

“It’s probably too early to be insulted.”

“This isn’t me telling you not to cook. These are just in case you don’t want to cook.”

“Ah,” you answer. “I could have just looked this up online.”

“Yeah well I don’t have your number so how would you know the best places to get take out.”

You stare at him from over the rim of your steaming mug.

“Maybe you should take it,” he says abruptly. “My number…in case…”

“I need cooking advice again?”

He makes an affirmative nod and smiles.

“Ok, what’s your number?” you ask as you reach for your phone.

The relief on his face doesn’t go unnoticed by you and he recites the digits as you punch them in.

When you hit dial on his contact his eyebrows draw together as if he’s trying to figure out where the sound is coming from.

“That’s you. Now you’ll have my number too.”

You giggle and the corner of his mouth lifts a little. “Right.”

You set your coffee down and push yourself up onto the countertop.

With one more almost imperceptible sweep of your legs he coughs into his fist and turns toward the door.

“Thanks Joel!” you call after him.

He waves with barely a turn and flies down the steps.

The rest of your day is spent figuring out the renovations for the bookshop space downstairs. You clean, declutter, and really start to map things out in your head. By the time the late afternoon sun is setting you realize you’ve missed lunch and you’re starving.

“I should try chili again,” you say to yourself.

After a quick and much less exciting visit to the grocery store you head back with a bag full of Joel’s recommended ingredients and get to work.

Two hours later you have a large pot of bubbling and unburnt chili on the stove.

Without thinking too much into it you snap a picture of the food and send it to Joel with the caption, “I did it! And it smells amazing!”

Before you even put your phone down his response dings in.

“Wow darlin.’ Looks amazing. Save me some.”

You’re about to reply that you definitely will when another text comes through.

“And I’m hoping you didn’t burn anything down?”

He follows it with a silly smiling emoji and you answer with, “nope! Everything and everyone is intact,” including your own smiley face emoji.

“Perfect. And I meant it. Save me some.”

“Please…” you type and then send another message saying, “so bossy!”

He responds quickly. “Save me some. Please.”

He adds a kissy smiley face and you giggle before sending one back with a thumbs up.

It’s easy to flirt over text. You aren’t overwhelmed by his masculine and sexy presence. By the smell of him. Woodsy and spicy. And his hands aren’t there teasing to touch you.

All you can think of while you enjoy your bowl of chili is how you can’t wait for him to come back this weekend.

When Joel returns from his trip he rushes home to shower and change. It’s already late but he needs to see you and you should have a bowl of chili waiting for him.

When he pulls up to the bookshop and parks his pickup he frowns at the darkened space.

Maybe you’re out? With someone…

Pushing the invasive thoughts aside he gets out and walks to the large windows, peering inside.

Nothing.

The scuffle of feet pulls his attention away and he catches sight of you sitting across the street by the park, your feet dangling along the pavement.

He approaches slowly, making noise so you don’t get scared. You look up and tense but instantly relax at the sight of him.

“Was wonderin’ where you were,” he murmurs.

“You’re back,” you say. “I have chili for you.”

You half smile but your eyes fall.

His chest tightens.

“Darlin’?” he asks before sitting down next to you.

His thigh brushes yours and his arm is close enough that you feel his warmth.

Your sniffle and hug your arms around your body.

Hesitantly he lifts his arm and rests it lightly across your shoulders.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

When you don’t pull away and instead lean into his strength he tugs you closer.

“I tried to start doing some work on the bookshop. I just wanted to take off the old and peeling wall paper but I think I fucked things up. I’m not sure how to fix it and really I have no idea what I’m doing. It’s a mess.”

Your confession softens him and he runs his calloused fingertips along your smooth skin, sneaking them under the sleeve of your shirt.

“I’ll take a look at it. I’m sure we can fix it.”

You were so soft. It took everything in him not to pull you even closer and wrap you in his arms.

“It’s a mess. I’m a mess. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing!”

“Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t put yourself down. It pisses me off.”

You look up at him and gasp. “You? Pissed off? That’s new.”

The corner of his lips lift and his eyes sparkle. “I deserve that.”

You wipe your nose and give him a smile.

“Maybe. But only a little.”

You lean your head on his shoulder and sigh.

“We’ll sort it out,” he assures you.

You look at him with soft eyes full of gratefulness. His gaze moves lower…to your mouth and his lips part as if to speak but the sound of a loud car horn makes you jump apart.

“How about that chili?” you ask as you start to stand.

“Sounds great darlin’.”

You walk toward the building, tensing at his side the closer you get, knowing he’s going to see the disaster you’ve made.

He stops you with a hand over yours.

“For what it’s worth,” he whispers. “I think you’re really brave for comin’ here to start over.”

The tension slips from your shoulders and you take his hand, giving it a squeeze.

“You did it,” you murmur. “I’m still upset but…I feel better. More hopeful.”

He smiles before you turn to unlock the door and your hyperaware of the feel of his hard body behind you. It takes everything in you not to turn around and throw yourself at him but you manage to get the door open and offer him some chili.

The next day, being Sunday, should be a day of rest but your new-found determination has you up and out of bed bright and early, ready to conquer the wallpaper debacle and then some.

You’re saved from wondering where to start when the front door of the shop opens and in walks Joel with a tray of coffee and a bakery bag.

“Hey there darlin’,” he says. “Thought you’d be up and ready to work.”

“Hey back,” you wave.

He fills the doorway with his body and you try to focus on the smell of fresh coffee and sugar.

“That for me?” you ask and point to the tray in his hand.

“Yeah.”

He crosses the small distance and places the tray down on one of the old tables. You reach for the coffee and open the top, inspecting the contents of the cup.

“You know how I take my coffee?” you ask, raising a brow.

“I pay attention,” is all the answer you get.

You stood dumbfounded for a moment until you remembered that you had made coffee the other morning when he fixed the lock on the door upstairs.

“Thank you.”

Your gaze travels to his and there is some kind of silent communication between you. You can’t believe how much he can convey without actually speaking. Your breathing becomes shallower as he continues to look at you and you know, by the determined set of his jaw and confidence simmering in his gaze that things have really shifted.

When he finally pulls his eyes away you let out an audible breath and take a sip of your coffee.

“What’s happening here?” he asks as he looks over the mess of a wall. “You want to get rid of this?”

He moves closer and toys with the wallpaper.

“Yes and then I want to…”

You start rattling off your ideas in a long run-on rambling sentence without taking a break and when you’re finally done you find him eyeing you with both an amused and thoughtful expression.

“Right,” he said. “Well I know a good place to get lumber and all that so we can shop later but for now let’s get this cleaned up.”

He turns and strides for the exit, passing your trash bag from yesterday that was too heavy for you to lift.

“You want this out for pick up?” he asks.

“Yes, please,” you respond.

With zero effort, he tosses the bag over his shoulder and walks out. When he returns he’s carrying his toolbox.

You peer through the window and see his pickup truck and one trip at a time, he brings more supplies and tools.

Grabbing the back of his sweatshirt he drags it up and off, bringing his tee shirt underneath along with it, and you catch a glimpse of what’s beneath.

“Shit,” you mutter.

Now that he’s only in a tee shirt you can see the deep cut of his triceps and forearm muscles every time he lifts or handles something.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

“You alright there darlin’?” he asks when he hears your quiet reflections.

“Huh? Me? Oh yeah, just fine thanks. Um…I want to help so just tell me what to do…you know be bossy. You’re good at that.”

He steps closer with a sideways smirk, his warmth coasting over you, and his gaze falls to your mouth, taking it’s time before finding your eyes again.

“Keep ripping that wallpaper down. I know it looks a mess but you’re doing it right.”

The words themselves hold no sensuality at all but the way he says them, the way he leans in close and whispers them along your ear…it sends a shiver right down your spine.

As the days pass you continue to work and make progress on the shop. Some days it’s just you and Joel and other days Tommy joins you both to help. On the days when Joel has to work he gives you detailed instructions on what to do and how to do it. You’re proud of how much you’ve accomplished together but also on your own.

At the end of the week, with the late afternoon sun already making it’s way toward the horizon, you notice the shop is oddly quiet. No sound of the saw or hammer.

“I have something to show you.”

His low and gravelly voice pulls you from your current task of polishing the small table tops and your nerves fire up.

When you stand and walk closer he looks you over from head to toe. You’re covered in dust and your skin is glowing with a light sheen of sweat.

You look down at yourself then back up at him.

“Is it that bad?” you ask with a halfhearted smile.

“You look beautiful.”

He holds his hand out and you take it, letting him pull you toward the back of the shop.

You step behind the last row of bookshelves and stop short.

“Joel…”

The large bay window is now framed by two brand new floor to ceiling dark shelves. The polished wood gleams in the setting sun and every beautiful accent swirl and grain is highlighted.

“It’s amazing! I just…I love it. Thank you!”

He takes the rag from his back pocket and cleans his hands while he watches you from under the dark strands of hair that have fallen over his forehead.

“Glad you like it darlin’.”

“No. I love it Joel. How can I ever thank you.”

“Have dinner with me…and not here…on the floor of the shop like we do some days. A real date.”

You suck in a small breath and curl your fingers together. “Did you think you needed to build me this to convince me to go on a date with you?”

“No,” he says as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I was workin’ up the nerve to ask you and this was a good distraction.”

“Oh…” You say the words and your mouth forms a little ‘o’ shape. “I…I mean…of course. I’d love to have dinner with you.”

He looks down at his feet and nods firmly, a smile playing on his lips. “Alright then.”

He starts to gather and pack up his tools. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six.”

You shake your head yes and realize you’re not speaking and as he turns to walk away you move forward while calling his name.

One second he’s holding the tool box and the next it’s on the ground next to him and he’s turning toward you. Your momentum brings you right into his chest and his arm wraps around your lower back.

He waits for you to speak, his eyes wandering over the features of your face before focusing in on your parted lips. His fingers splayed along your lower back dig into your skin and he tugs you closer as he dips his head.

Your palms land flat on his hard chest and slowly dance upward along his broad shoulders.

“Thank you.”

The words are just a whisper but you manage to get them passed your lips and he looks like he’s about to speak but instead covers your mouth with his.

The kiss is worshipful but you can feel his restraint in the tense and flexing muscles of his body and your fingers find purchase at the back of his neck and comb through his hair.

His hand slides up your back and he presses you closer as he lifts the other to cup your jaw. The callouses on the pad of his thumb scrape deliciously across your soft skin and he moans like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted.

When the need for air finally takes over he releases your mouth just long enough to look into your eyes before he dives back in, stealing your breath all over again.

The door to the shop opens, the newly installed bell atop it ringing loud and clear through your kiss filled haze.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Tommy says sheepishly when he appears by the window.

Joel breaks the kiss, his chest heaving with harsh breaths and he stares at your mouth for a few long moments while you cling to him. His hand eventually drops away from your back and his fingers trace along your jaw and then down your neck to pull your ear to his lips.

“Tomorrow night,” he murmurs. “Six.”

@hiddles-rose @lorilane33 @lizette50 @littleseasiren @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989

[mullermilkshake]

Hi! 😊

Your writing is so immersive that it feels cinematic—like watching a movie unfold in real time. I love how you always manage to surprise me with plot twists that I never see coming! It’s such a refreshing change from knowing exactly where the story is headed.

I’d absolutely love if you could give Yandere!Reader another go with Nanamin. I think it would be fascinating since Nanami’s level-headedness might keep him from suspecting her. And if you're open to poly ships, it’d be thrilling to add Gojo into the mix with a twist—Yandere!Reader x Nanami x Gojo, but with Gojo secretly yandere all along. Maybe he’s been stalking both of them, planning for the perfect moment to reveal his obsession and orchestrating their “first meeting” to suit his agenda. I’ll leave the rest to your creativity, as I’m sure you’ll bring unexpected layers and depth!

Thank you for considering this! I’m so grateful for all the hard work you put into your stories. 😊🌸

Thanks so much for the kind words! It really means a lot. I love trying to write it all cinematic and doing things that go against the grain because my brain is twisted lol.

I can definitely do that, I hope you enjoy it!

PART ONE - Kento Nanami x Reader x Satoru Gojo

TAGS- Yandere!Reader,Yandere!Gojo,Stalking,Thoughts of killing people,Yandere!thoughts and motives,Masking,Graphic depictions of violence and mentions of damage to eyes.

One americano, two shots of espresso and two pumps of vanilla. Every day at seven thirty five. But not on Sundays sometimes because meetings run over. 

“Oh! I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going- oh god look at your suit, it must be expensive right?”

It was about time you made proper contact with Kento Nanami. You watched on in awe at his stance, brushing the coffee away from his suit in such a way it made the mundane action sexy. Lustrous. Like he was trying to make the way he allowed a strand of hair to fall past his forehead almost purposefully. With an intent to send you crazy.

Good thing you weren’t like those fangirls you often saw on television, crawling about the stage because a man gyrated over his mic. No, you were merely a coffee barista. A damn good one at that. Well, except for spilling coffee all over Kento’s suit.

But how else were you going to get his attention?

You were barely hanging on as it was watching the others make his drink to order. That’s why you made this one for him.

Jesus fucking hell Utahime It’s two pumps of vanilla. I swear I could kill that bitch right now. Shove head under the hot water valve and watch her eyes burn out the sockets.

It was a little drastic, even for you, but if anyone just saw the way Utahime was talking to Kento they would have assumed the two were dating or something. Kento Nanami was single. Definitely single.

The last girl he wanted to date just never made it to that coffee date on time.

None of his other dates did either.

“It’s fine, really.” The first sentence he spoke to you wasn't ‘thank you’ or his coffee order.

A formulated sentence.

Well, that was five months ago. Kento Nanami made the right choice that day to accept your invitation for a drink. Just like you planned. All seemed well and good for a time before you were noticing something strange when out in public.

White hair.

It was all you seemed to ever see. Out in the store or late night trip to the movies, hooked up to Kento’s arm during a scary or suspenseful part. It just seemed to be there, though you never knew who it belonged to. Never a face to linger for a second to make the connection. Just nothing. It tickled the back of your neck, putting you on the defense as though Kento was in danger. What sort of fucked up person would stalk someone? The idea of it was deranged, sick at the thought that someone was watching him, watching you with him.

White hair. You just couldn’t place it.

“Ken, love! What do you think of this dress?!” You called from upstairs, slipping on your shoes and smoothing down the hem of the fabric.

“I’m sure it’s perfect-” He paused, looking you up and down as though studying every inch of your body before he forgot what it looked like.

“Do I look pretty?”

He nodded slowly, stepping close to sit his hand on your waist. “You look beautiful.”

Hearing Kento say such kind and wonderful things made your night, heck, your entire week. Who gave a crap what anyone else thought? Just Kento was more than what you needed to prove that he liked you very much. You loved him of course, but that was love at first sight. Counting down the agonising days until he said it back to you, when you told him all the time in your head or whilst he slept. It took restraint not to slip up and make him doubt things.

So difficult not to say it for the man you loved.

“Thank you.” You giggled at his touch, planting a kiss on your temple with a husky growl in his throat.

“Maybe we should leave dinner tonight? I can’t possibly see how I’ll cope without taking you back to mine straight away. Too beautiful.”

“Restrain yourself, Ken. Someone might think you’re in love with me or something!” Your ecstatic grin sat just in front of your face as though to mask your brain away.

Say it… just say it please. Tell me you love me. I need to hear it. 

His attentive smile made your stomach flip when he pulled you close and spun you around to face the mirror. “If they saw your smile, they would understand what a lovely person you are. And see how I can’t resist you when you’re in a dress like this.”

Oh dear. Maybe some other time. 

“Well,” You kept that mask on and pulled away from him. “Should we get going then? Don’t want to be late.”

“Of course.” 

Kento drove straight to the restaurant, quite an upscale place for no occasion. Maybe there was? Perhaps Kento had something planned that you were unaware of, something spontaneous or quite the opposite. A planned surprise? It was practically the night of your five month month anniversary after all, two hundred wonderful days spent seeing each other and having astronomical sex. 

You didn’t get your hopes up and held your breath when he climbed out of the car and opened the door for you. So special. So dedicated to your comfort with the slightest touch from his fingers on the small of your back. Adrenaline made everything ten times more acute, aware of everything and anything you walked by and as you seated yourself at the table facing Kento, your heart beat so fast. Five months was a long time when you had waited longer to be with him.

You were basically in a relationship with him for well over a year by now it seemed, surely that was long enough to hear those three words?

“Can I get you any drinks?” The waitress grinned at Kento and then at you.

Why him first? He was the most handsome man you had ever seen, but what right did this bitch have setting eyes on him? You ignored the irritation and blinked it away for now, letting Kento speak for you and took a moment to observe the room.

White hair.

A flash of it and you would have missed it had you turned away to scowl at the waitress again. White hair like you were imagining it.

“Darling?”

“Hm?”

“Are you alright?” Kento slid his hand forward and offered it to you. “You seem distant.”

“I’m fine.” You were not, but took his hand anyway. “It’s a little chilly in here, don’t you think?”

“I’ll ask them to turn the heat up, will that be alright?” 

He’s so considerate. “That would be great, thank you.”

You played it off and ignored the itch on the back of your neck, being watched did not agree with you. Kento sat still and his head tilted to the side a little, studying you again whilst his free hand rummaged into his suit pocket.

“I have something for you.” He pulled out a little box. “I know we haven’t been dating that long, but I wanted to get you something I hope you’ll like. If it’s too early, please let me know.”

A box. A small little box. It was light in your hand, velvet to the touch and firm enough that it must have come from those places that sold rings for stupid money. One little box, something so small which held your heart right in Kento’s pocket.

Is he proposing? Please tell me he’s proposing. It means he loves me, right? 

“Ken… What-” A pair of earrings.

“I know you lost one from the pair you always said you wore, so I wanted to get you a new pair. I hope it’s appropriate.”

You forbid yourself to be disappointed, because it wasn’t about the hope that a ring sat nestled perfectly in this box. You put up your mask and smiled sweetly enough to satisfy him. “It is. Thank you so much, I love them!”

He’ll propose some day. 

“Here are your drinks.” 

The waitress took Kento’s drink off first and placed it right in front of him. Then she placed yours down off to the side. She was doing it on purpose, you were sure of it. The steak knife on the table looked pretty good to shove straight in her neck- 

She cleared her throat and placed the tray under her arm. “I’ll be back in a moment to see what you'd like to order.”

“Thank you.” Kento paid no mind to it and took a sip of his wine. “This is a nice vintage, I think we should go to one of those wine tasting evenings. It’s a good place to get to know each other more.”

You did not need to know Kento more. You knew practically everything about him in the four months he stepped into your life physically. 

He liked to drink, hence the wine tasting suggestion. Kento also enjoyed cooking, especially as he lived alone in his apartment, but he also enjoyed dishing up delicacies in your own kitchen. His birthday was July third and he had a particular interest in the arts, like music and theatre. A man of many tastes. 

“Hello there, can I get you something to eat?” A voice of a man you did not recognise came into ear shot.

“I think we might need a minute. Our waitress is taking our order.”

White hair.

You looked up and saw white hair, only this time it did not disappear. The white hair had a face, a blue eyed porcelain complexion with a smooth grin. The man stood taller than Kento dressed in a suit and staff ID.

“I’m sorry, she suddenly became unwell and had to go home. I’ll be taking your order tonight.” He smiled again and made eye contact with you. “My name is Satoru Gojo and I will do everything I can to make sure your night is perfect.”

Gojo. His gaze over you was the exact same distinct feeling of being preyed on. His cutting glare just behind the loose strands of hair over his forehead that looked softer than a cloud. You didn’t know what to make of this, but at least that waitress was gone. You really thought you were going to have to do something about her.

“Alright then. I’ll be back momentarily.”

“Ken, I’m just going to use the restroom, if he comes back before then, can you order me…” You took a brief glance at the menu and chose anything you first landed your eyes on. Gojo wandered off towards the opposite end of the restaurant, somewhere not where the kitchen was. “The steak? I’ll have it however it’s recommended.”

“Alright.”

You took off and made your way over towards the restroom, noting that he had disappeared. Crap. You wanted answers to why it seemed like that man was following you, stalking Kento for no apparent reason.

Would you need to do something about this guy? He was taller than you realised, so he must have been stronger too. You were not super strong by a long stretch, but when pushed enough to the limit, it drove you to do things you thought your body was not capable of.

Just look at the last waitress that brought the wrong drink and almost spilt it all over him just last week. So much blood and she was still wailing after you shoved your stiletto heel in her face.

People never learn. 

By the time you reached the restroom, the stalls were all empty besides one. The long wall length mirror outlined them all like little match boxes opened after use, showing the amber light inside for an ambient glow.

“How did I know that I’d find you in here, hm?” Gojo’s voice echoed throughout the restroom.

It startled you enough to move towards the door and lock it, backing away from the closed door and sitting your back flush with the slate grey tiles adjacent to it.

The toilet stall opened and he came out much less cheerful than he was outside, hands tight in his trouser pockets. “You can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Who are you?”

“It’s funny, no one else ever seems to notice me when I don't want them to. But your instincts are hot on it every time, aren’t they?”

“Tell me who you are.” 

This wasn’t a show of weakness or a moment that revealed your vulnerabilities. When you glared back in his eyes, it was Kento you thought of. If this man was here to hurt him, well, you’d fucking kill him. Out in the back alley, no witnesses and back in time for your steak and boyfriend you’d do anything for. To kill for three times over already. Yes, you’d do it if the opportunity called for it.

“Y’know, I was so ready to come and kick the shit out of that guy when I saw that little box he gave you, but I see right through that little charade you got goin’ on. I've been watching' you a while now.” By now, he’d taken precisely four steps towards you, taking the opportunity to lean against the row of inbuilt sinks. “You’re exactly like me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you need to stop stalking me and my boyfriend. I’ll call the police.”

Gojo’s laugh made your stomach lurch. This guy was a whole new level of crazy you had never seen before. “That’s cute. You’re cute. But no, I’m not stalking him, just you.”

“Then stop doing that.”

“Why, aren’t you scared that I might do what I just said I was goin’ to do? He looks strong but when he has his hands all over you, it sorta drives me crazy.”

Gojo would not make it past the restroom door if he intended on hurting Kento. Yet, why did you contemplate that you’d rather take on the waitress instead of him right now?

Shaking the doubts away, you imagined the scenarios that may occur should you get hold of another steak knife or any other sharp object really. One of the heavy statues in the foyer could prove adequate to crush his head or even one of those little blow torches for creme brûlée right to his face.

For now, your mask dropped, and for a time you could breathe a little. Pretending to be happy all the time was difficult work and holding back on punching anyone who gave eyes at Kento took practice and great restraint. “If you go near him at all, I’ll kill you. I won’t just kill you though, it’ll be worse than torture.”

Gojo stepped closer to you and looked down as though you were a child to be patronised. “That’s my girl. Now, why don’t you introduce me to your little boyfriend so we can make this more official, huh?”

He’d backed you into a corner, right up against the wall. “I meant what I said. Don’t come near us.”

“And I know you have the same urges as me, you think no one sees, but I do. I see you. You won’t have to pretend around me. I’ll even do all your dirty work, that’s what I enjoy most.” He placed his palm on the wall beside your head, leaning in so his mouth was right next to your ear. 

“Lets get this fucked up little love triangle kickin’ hm?

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Hii so idk if u are planning on doing a part 2 for the stepcest or angst for a part 2 but I was wondering if you could write an angst about how they sneak around and eventually get caught?? It’s ok if ur not planning on a pt 2 😭 love ur writing style btwwww

Yasss I hope you like it! I wanted to post this last night but my sleep meds kicked in before I got to finish this part. There will be a part 3, as long as people want to read it:)

Pleaser - Stepbrother!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 2

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Part 1, Part 3

Summary: Your mom and Ethan's dad come home early, catching you in the act.

*there are mentions of a panic attack and some violence-related things, nothing too graphic...except the sex stuff:)*

A/N: I didn't think a lot of people would like the first part of this, and I kinda left this part on a cliffhanger because I love to be dramatic lol. If y'all want a part 3, let me know:)

You frowned when you looked at your phone and saw that your mom and Ethan’s dad would be home in a few hours. It was like everything changed after that first night. You were both loving the time you got to spend together, not just the sex. It really bummed you out that he could’ve potentially been a good boyfriend, but thanks to your mom getting swept off her feet by his dad, there’s no way it could work now.

You could tell that Ethan hated it, too. If it was up to him, they’d never come back, and he’d have you all to himself. He knew it wasn’t right, but he was catching feelings. The only thing that was going to get him through the rest of the summer was knowing that you were going to the same school in the fall. No parents, and no one would know that you were his stepsister.

“Hey cutie, what are you doing?” he asked, as he walked into the kitchen to see you in front of the counter, your back turned to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist and laid his head on your shoulder.

He got concerned when he heard you sniffle, so he turned you around to face him. “What’s wrong?”

You wiped tears off your cheeks as you looked at him.

“Everything’s wrong. THIS is wrong,” you said, your hand gesturing between the two of you.

“I thought you liked the last couple days,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at the linoleum tiles on the kitchen floor. He’d be lying if he said his heart wasn’t breaking.

“I did, Ethan! That’s the problem. I don’t want this to end,” you cried, as he pulled you into his arms.

“It doesn’t have to,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “We can make everything work. It’ll be okay.”

“How? There’s no way,” you mumbled into his chest as he soothingly rubbed your back.

“We just have to keep it a secret.”

You hated that idea but knew it was the only option. He stepped back to wipe the stray tears off your cheeks, before leaning down to kiss you.

He started to pull away, but you pulled him back in. Your lips moved so well with his, desperate to go at it again before your mom and Wayne returned home.

“If we’re going to do this, we need to be quick,” he said, pulling his phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants and checking the time. “Dad said they left a little early, so they’ll be here in an hour.”

“Your bed or mine?” you asked, lacing your fingers in his.

“I like yours. It’s more comfortable,” he said, “I should really complain about that.”

“Yeah, then we’d have to explain why you know how nice my bed is,” you laughed, leading him to your room.

He helped you out of your clothes, not wanting to waste a single second of the time you had left. He started to strip, his clothes joining yours in the pile on the floor.

“What do you want, babe?” he asked, his hands running up your sides as you stood in front of him.

“I want to ride you,” you said, his eyes darkening at the thought.

“Since I don’t know how long I’ll have to wait to do it again, can I please eat your pussy first?”

“Please,” you whispered, as he pushed you back on the bed.

His head was between your thighs within seconds, his mouth working its magic. His tongue darted in and out of your dripping core, trying to get every last drop of you.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you whimpered, your hands running through his hair.

He gripped your thighs as he ate you out, pulling you as close to his face as possible.

His tongue started to focus on your clit, circling it with his tongue before he sucked it into his mouth.

“Oh shit,” you cried out, your grip tightening on his hair. He groaned, the feeling making you arch your back.

You started to move your hips against his tongue as your orgasm began to build, craving that sweet ecstasy. Your brain got foggy as you started to hit your peak. The only thing you could think about was how amazing he was making you feel as you tried to form words.

“I’m gonna-“ was all you got out, before your body started to shake. He slid his tongue back inside your pussy, massaging your fluttering entrance with it.

Ethan loved seeing you like this. The pleasure coursing through your veins and knowing he’s the one that caused it, made his cock throb.

He laid down beside you after he got you through your orgasm. “Come on, baby. Get on top of me.”

You sat up, the tingling feeling in your body fading as you straddled him. Your lips went to his as your pussy rubbed against him. He was gasping at the friction against his erection, but he needed to be inside of you.

“Condom,” he mumbled against your lips.

You sighed as you reached over to the bedside table and grabbed one, making a mental note to put them back under your bed when the two of you were done.

You started to stroke him, a low groan slipping past his lips, before you rolled the condom on him.

You both moaned out when you sank down onto him, before he muttered “So fucking tight.”

His hands went to your hips as you started to move, your pace building up quickly. The palms of your hands were pressed against his chest as you rolled your hips against his. You knew you didn’t have a lot of time left, and you didn’t want to risk getting caught. He watched the way your tits bounced as you rode him, pulling you forward to take one of your nipples in his mouth.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, the position of your hips making it easier for him do drill into your g-spot as his thrusts started to meet yours.

Both of your movements completely stopped though, as you heard heavy footsteps walking past your door.

Ethan’s wide eyes connected with your terrified ones, as Wayne yelled “Ethan, where are you?” from his bedroom a few doors down from yours.

You were frozen in fear as you were still on top of him. “Baby, you gotta get up,” he whispered. You tried to, but it was too late once the doorknob to your room turned, your mom walking in. The smile on her face dropped as she saw you, a look of disgust on her face.

“Get dressed, now,” she said through gritted teeth, your heart pounding in your chest as tears started to form in your eyes.

She walked out, slamming the door behind her. You looked down to see Ethan’s tomato-red face, “Oh my god.”

He wiped your tears away as they slid down your cheeks, “We need to get dressed, baby. You need to get off me.”

You raised your hips as he slid out of you, your body now shaking in your fear. He slid the condom off, throwing it in the wastebasket and quickly putting his clothes on. You heard arguing from the living room as you tried to get dressed, your hands shaking as Ethan came over to help you.

“It’s okay, baby,” he said, pulling your shirt down over your head.

“How the fuck is this okay?” you whispered, as he helped you put your jeans back on.

“Look, I’ll say this was all my fault,” he said, before kissing you for what you felt would be the last time.

“It’s not, though.” Tears flowed down your cheeks as you felt your chest getting tighter.

“Hey, breathe, baby,” he said, pulling you into his chest so he could rub his hands across your back.

You heard footsteps outside of the door again, Wayne yelling, “Ethan, get out here now!”

He pulled away from you, his own anxiety creeping up as he made his way towards the door. The footsteps headed back to the living room as the arguing continued.

You followed Ethan, not wanting him to take the fall for this, even though his eyes pleaded with yours for you to let him.

“Your perverted son took advantage of my daughter!” your mom yelled, anger dripping off her words.

“You said she was on top of him! How do you know it wasn’t the other way around?!” Wayne snapped.

Your mom was about to say something, when she noticed Ethan standing in the doorway, and you right behind him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, you little creep?” she asked, walking towards Ethan.

“Stop!” you screamed at her. She stopped in her tracks, looking you over. You’d never raised your voice at her. “I’m the reason this happened.”

Wayne scoffed in the background as your mother’s face dropped.

“No, you’re not. Stop talking,” Ethan said, as your mom got closer to Ethan, her hand connecting with his face. The sharp slap made your ears ring as Wayne started to yell. “Don’t touch my son!”

“Your son had no problem touching my daughter!” she screamed. “Get out. Both of you.” She said coldly, looking between Ethan and Wayne.

“Mom, please calm down. I know this is bad, but-“ she cut you off before you could finish speaking.

“I don’t even know who you are.”

A sob slipped past your lips as you felt your chest getting tighter again, your panic attack rushing over your body as you struggled to breathe. Ethan turned to look at you. “Hey, it’s okay. Breathe.”

“Don’t you fucking speak to her,” your mom snapped, pulling Ethan away from you. “I never should’ve trusted you alone with her.”

“Stop blaming this all on Ethan! We don’t even know what the story is!” Wayne yelled, as Ethan started to get mad.

“You want to know what the fucking story is? You two got married before you even asked us how we felt about it! I didn’t plan for any of this to happen, she didn’t either,” Ethan yelled, “I wish you two would’ve thought about asking us how we felt about it, because I would’ve told you I hated the idea of living down the hall from the girl I caught feelings for. Having to refer to her as my stepsister makes me feel so fucking sick to my stomach. I hate this!”

Your mom walked over to you, trying to calm you down when she noticed your breathing wasn’t normal. Your vision got hazy as you struggled to take more than shallow breaths. “Hey, Ethan! Help me!” your mom yelled, as you dropped to your knees.

He bolted towards you, lifting you back up to hold you against him as he swayed with you in his arms, trying to calm you down. His arms around you were soothing, as you started to inhale deeper than you were able to seconds before.

Your mom stood there, watching the two of you. She was still mad, but there were other things she and Wayne needed to talk to you about.

“We’re separating,” your mom said, as you pulled your head away from Ethan’s chest. “We did rush into this.”

Wayne’s head nodded as he stared at the floor.

“Why did you go on that trip then?” you asked, your words still shaky as you calmed down.

“We went on the trip to see if there was any way we could make this work. We ended up heading home early because we knew we couldn’t,” Wayne said, as Ethan looked over to him.

“You seemed so happy,” Ethan said, as Wayne chuckled.

“We didn’t want you two to worry. We were going to make things seem normal until you guys went off to school.”

“We were going to tell you when you came home for Thanksgiving,” your mom said, a hint of sadness in her voice. “At this point, I think we should start to think about Wayne and Ethan moving out, as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, I’ll reach out to my friend that’s a realtor in the morning,” Wayne said, still not looking up from the floor.

You stood there next to Ethan, not sure how to feel. Your mom and Ethan’s dad weren’t showing a lot of emotion.

“I think we need to have a conversation,” your mom said to you, gesturing for you to come with her. Your scared eyes met with Ethans before you followed her through the house and out the side door. You both took a seat on the patio chairs, as she took a deep breath. “How long has that been going on?”

“You mean, how long have I had a crush on him? Or what you walked in on?” you asked, your gaze not meeting hers.

“Were you interested in him before you knew I was seeing Wayne?” she asked, smoothing a wrinkle out of her shirt as she spoke.

“Yeah, I’ve liked him for the last couple years,” you admitted, “I’m sorry if I disappointed you.”

“I wish you would’ve told me,” she sighed, “Maybe it would’ve stopped me from making my mistake.”

She let out a small laugh, as you started to feel sad for her. “Mom, why did you get married without talking to me about it?”

“I don’t know, I think I just didn’t want to be alone. Wayne felt the same way. We both had a child going off to college, and our houses were going to be empty. I knew you’d think we were moving too fast.”

You both sat in silence for a few minutes, deep in thought.

“This thing between you and Ethan can’t happen. At least not while he’s in the same house as you,” she finally spoke. “I’m not sure what people will think, but the marriage did only last a few months.”

“Seriously?” you asked, a smile forming on your lips.

“I need to know though, were you being safe with him?” her heart was pounding as she asked the question, hoping your answer would be what she wanted it to be.

“Yes,” you said, as she let out a sigh of relief.

“I know you’re going to be here with him alone while Wayne and I are both working, at least until they get another house. I’m going to ask Wayne if he’d help me put up cameras in the house. Just so I know you aren’t doing things you shouldn’t be,” she said, as you felt the small glint of happiness fade to anger.

“That’s a serious invasion of my privacy,” you said, before she put her hand up.

“I’m not going to put them in the bedrooms or the bathroom. I just want one in the main hallway, one in the living room, and one in the kitchen. I meant what I said earlier when I said I didn’t know who you are,” you heard the disappointment in her voice again.

“This is stupid,” you said, getting up and walking back through the side door.

Ethan was sitting on the couch talking to his dad as you made your way through the house. His eyes were on you, observing the pissed look on your face. When you walked into your room and slammed the door, he had this awful feeling in the pit of his stomach.

That night, Ethan and his dad went to the store to get the cameras. You soon heard the sound of the drill outside of your door as they mounted a camera to the wall in the hallway. You rolled your eyes, irritated at the sound and the privacy you no longer had.

“Hey, I picked up some food,” Wayne said against your door. As pissed as you were, you were still hungry. You opened the door and took the bag from him but noticed Ethan behind him on a ladder with the drill. His shirt raised up a little, showing his toned stomach as he installed the camera. He winked at you when his eyes connected to yours.

“Goodnight,” Wayne said, moving away from the door. You closed it behind him and pulled out your phone to text Ethan.

You: I can’t believe you’re helping with this

A few minutes after the drilling stopped, you got a response from Ethan.

Ethan: Did you forget that I’m good with technology? I have a plan

You smiled as you read it, curious to know what his secret plan was.

[clementinegreye]

false god

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

summary: it's never a good idea to reminisce about a relationship, especially one that ended with betrayal left you with a permanent scar

word count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, no happy ending, major character injury, talks of general CM related violence and murder (nothing graphic), jeid you squint but its not endorsed lol

a/n: wrote this in an hour when i was feeling sad. its not proof read and i lowkey don't love it but whomp whomp

She always thought that the ground looked so far away just after take-off. Everyone below looked like specs of dirt that you had to really focus on to see. How insignificant everything looked compared to the vastness of the sky above. The illusion of importance shattered by the cover of clouds.

Pulling the blind down she sat back in her seat, headphones drowning out the noise in her head. The jet was silent, too focused in quiet contemplation of the reading material in front of them.

Her body instinctively leaned slightly to the left, seeking the comfort it once found in his embrace. But the illusion was shattered, and she knew that no matter how much she wanted to, she could no longer lean into the familiarity. She pushed her body towards the window, forcing her eyes out to the clouds.

Her thoughts, once filled with his presence, felt unmoored.

Now she could focus wholly on work. But the space that thoughts of him once filled was now left behind and filled with a silence that echoed through her. She was alone with the sky, the clouds, the vast expanse of the world below, and her thoughts.

His scent still lingered, he’d spent so long in the seat next to her that it must have melded with the fabric. A mix of pine and the cold winter morning air. She closed her eyes, a single tear escaping, sliding down her cheek. She was left with nothing but the ghost of his presence, a cruel reminder of what once was.

But now, the seat remained cold and empty. Even the scent of him, hugging her senses, used to be a source of comfort, was now a bitter reminder of the fallout between them. She hugged herself as if trying to fill the void as vast as the sky.

She forced herself to breathe, each inhale a sharp reminder of the love that was no longer hers. But it felt different now, hollow and cold as if the warmth he once provided had faded.

You see, Spencer Reid had broken her heart, and he’d done it easily.

Spencer Reid had chosen to protect someone else over her.

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

The takedown was supposed to have been simple.

She turned her head slightly, the dust from the room seemed to have uprooted and created a cloud of mist. Morgan looked like he was running towards her. Why was he running towards her? Why was she on the ground? Why did everything feel so cold? It was the middle of July, she’d been warm in her Kevlar vest. Why were her fingers so so cold?

‘Agent down!’

The words echoed in her ears. It was as if the fog cleared and she tried to sit up, pain lit up her body like electricity before going numb. Suddenly everything seemed so silent. The world shifted, she could feel the cold concrete on her back as clearly as if it were in her bones.

Morgan was fast, it must have only taken him seconds to get to her. Which was odd, she’d been standing next to Spencer, but she couldn’t see him from her line of sight. She tried to force herself up again. only to be met with Morgan’s strong hands pushing on her shoulders.

‘No, don’t move.’ She turned her head to the side and through the haze of what was happening she saw something that made her eyebrows furrow in confusion. Maybe she’d hit her head. She must have hit her head.

Spencer was standing in front of JJ, his whole body poised like a shield protecting her. His arms around her shoulder, her hands gripping the front of his vest. Then the confusion unravelled like a loose thread, tugged on.

Spencer had moved to protect her. He’d left her side to protect JJ from the Unsub’s shooting. He’d actively moved further away from her to go and stand in front of JJ. But he wasn’t in love with JJ. He was supposed to be in love with her, so why had he gone out of his way to protect JJ? Was he in love with JJ?

They’d always been close, she knew that. But this? This felt more than friendship, you don’t dive in front of just a friend instinctively if the supposed love of your life is right there in the line of fire. Surely, your instinct is to follow your heart, is that what Spencer had done? Had he followed the true line of his heart?

She wanted to ask him why. Why he had done this? But her voice had deserted her, her throat drowned in icy silence. She felt the darkness creeping in, wrapping around her like a shroud.

The pain of the betrayal was raw, every nerve in her body seemed to buzz with it. She felt like a marionette whose strings had been cut, left to crumble under the weight of her realisation.

Morgan was next to her, holding her, placing his weight on her torso, he was lit up in a golden halo and his eyes looked like they were gleaming with fear and un-spilt tears.

‘Where’s the damn medic?!’ He shouted backwards in what must have been the general direction of the team.

‘It’s five minutes out.’ The voice was level, in charge. It must have been Hotch, but her eyes were getting too heavy to check.

She wanted to tell Morgan to stop looking so scared, to assure him she'd pull through like always, but the words died in her throat. Her breath hitched as a new wave of pain washed over her.

'Hang on,' Morgan pleaded, 'just hang on.'

She could hear Spencer, his voice sounded panicked, high pitched and his breathing thready. He was muttering something that sounded like an apology and a lot of cursing or praying to God. She couldn’t tell.

She wanted to reach out, to comfort him, but the strength had left her body. The edges of her vision were blurring, and the last thing she heard was Morgan's desperate plea echoing in her fading consciousness.

'Stay with us,' a voice commanded, each word punctuated with a raw desperation. But the darkness was too inviting, too persistent. And as the world around her faded, she couldn't shake off the sinking feeling that something irrevocably had changed.

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

The hum of the engine lured her out of her memory. Maybe it was her fault. She’d loved Spencer like it was breathing, had worshipped at the altar of his love, only to find it empty. It was clear he hadn’t done the same, that convenience was simply his reason.

The false god she had created of him had fallen, shattered into pieces. The truth of his mortality, his flawed humanity, had never been so palpable. The feeling was both liberating and terrifying.

She looked out at the sky and the world below, the vast expanse seeming to mirror the emptiness within her. Emptiness echoed in her ears, filling her with a sense of loss that was almost unbearable.

The scar below her left collarbone throbbed beneath her shirt, it could almost be mistaken for heartache.

[studiogrimm810]

Speak of The Devil >Pessimistic Coffee // part 4

pairings: (established) sam winchester x gn!you, dean and cas are also there (as boyfriends <3)

summary: you are taken by lucifer for over a week and sam damn near looses his head. when you are finally rescued, the trauma of what was inflicted on you has left it's mark and it's up to sam and dean to keep you put together. this part showcases the morning after your sleepless night where the boys try to find a solution and dean helps by making breakfast

warnings: torture, ptsd, flashbacks, hallucinations, graphic depictions of said torture

word count: 3,357

A/N: omgggg,, so this work is very quickly becoming quite dear to my heart so i just want to take a moment to thank anyone and everyone who has read this far!! (or any of it tbh lol) i'm not sure how many parts this will end up being but i think it's going to become my first ever supernatural consistent series and i just think that's super cool! thanks a million again, you all mean the world to me <3

read other parts here

———————

Sam nursed a cup of scolding black coffee while you showered. You insisted on being able to handle it yourself so he offered to make you coffee for when you were finished. He absolutely hated the idea of being out of arm’s length, but he had to trust you. Sam took another sip that singes his tongue but he endures the sting as it builds a layer of numb skin over his tongue. He idly runs his sore tongue over the tips of his teeth, worrying about if you’ve made it past shampoo yet or if you were dissociating under the stream of water.

He forces a gulp down his throat, feeling the roll of heat all the way down and settling into his stomach. The heat is soothing, aching, and somewhat regrettable.

The sound of footsteps echoing up the hall perks his attention even though he knows they’re too heavy and deliberate to be yours. No, he knew they were Deans. Sam's disappointment still made him sigh to himself when he confirmed that the footsteps were in fact Deans.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean tests. He walks casually through the kitchen and to the coffee pot to pour himself a cup. He examined Sam as he did so though, letting his eyes rake over his baby brother's tense shoulders and along his pinched face. Sam mumbles a halfhearted “mornin’,” before taking down another- admittedly tad smaller- gulp of coffee.

Dean pours his cup and leans against the neighboring counter, trying to remain casual but the unspoken words itched to jump off his tongue. He takes a sip and hisses at the heat, holding his coffee low to let it cool a bit first.

“How was last night?” Dean settled on asking. He knew he had to ask sometime, and maybe without your presence it would be easier for Sam to be honest. Sam didn’t even flinch at the question, not looking up at his brother or really showing any signs of communication. Sam was stuck in thought, organizing his words to a precise speech as to do you and your situation justice, even in the small talk accompanied by morning coffee.

“Restless,” was the word Sam started with, figuring it was neutral enough to not find any pinpointed feeling to it just yet. He didn’t want to speak for you, but thankfully, at this moment, Dean didn’t really want to hear about you as much as he did his brother. Of course Dean was worried about you, but he knows how deeply Sam loves you and how deeply Sam feels for those around him.

“Did you get any sleep?” Dean follows. He has a feeling that even when you did fall asleep, Sam would remain up out of unyielding determination.

“Some.” One word again. The look that plagued Sam’s features wasn’t one of defeat or exhaustion, but one of deep thought. It was like he was spending every second he could to work out this puzzle of your situation. “It’s still Lucifer.”

Dean shakes his head, setting down his coffee, “what!?” He whisper-yells and Sam sighs, setting down his coffee and rubbing his forehead with his formerly free hand, his now coffee-free hand tapping on the cool metal table.

“Last night, they were having another… hallucination, we can call it, and I tried the angel banishing sigil and it worked,” Sam looks up at his brother with pinched high brows. Dean drops his jaw just enough to grind it instead of clenching it and looks off to the side for a moment to gather his calmest words.

“So that’s where Cas went,” Dean concludes, wondering where the angel in his bed ran off to in the middle of the night.

“Yeah, sorry,” Sam scoffs a short, dry, laugh and pulls his coffee cup back to his lips, feeling a twinge of disappointment at the now cooled coffee. “It was the only thing I could think of, but it worked.”

“So, if Cas’ theory is right, then he’ll leave when the spell does?” Dean adds, his hands leaned against the island after taking a satisfied sip of his coffee.

“That’s the hope,” Sam nods, setting his half full cup of coffee down for good. Up the hall, Sam hears a familiar creak of his and your bathroom door. You had been on him about fixing that squeak so that you wouldn’t wake each other up in the middle of the night but Sam just kept forgetting about it, only remembering it needed done when he heard it. But right now, he’s glad he’s pushed it off for so long, the loud hinge was a reminder that you had graduated from your shower and could probably use that cup of coffee now. “Excuse me,” Sam said after standing and getting you a cup of coffee. It was just cool enough that he knew you would enjoy it since you often complained that a burnt tongue ruins your tastebuds for the following 24 to 48 hours of its initial damage.

Sam knocks on the door lightly before announcing himself, opening the door just enough to let himself in and then latching it again. “Here, love, it’s warm,” he hands you the cup. You sat on the edge of his side of the bed, a towel wrapped around you and your hair dripping onto your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you mumble into the rim as you sip down the bitter jolt of just under hot coffee.

“How was your shower?” Sam asks crouching down in front of you. He enjoyed looking up at you, knowing that whenever you felt sad or tired that you slouched, and this way he could still see every perfect detail that lined your face.

“Warm,” you reply simply, taking a larger gulp and licking the drip left on your lips. You sniffle since the steam has made its way from the cup and into your nose, loosening your already messy sinuses. After a night of crying and a warm shower, the stuffiness of your nose never seemed to go away. It would, of course, but you were starting to feel awfully pessimistic. Even over the smallest things.

“Good, honey,” Sam rests a hand on your exposed knee, lightly running his thumb over the skin. “Are you hungry? Dean’s making breakfast.” Sam had no idea if that was true, but he knew that if you wanted breakfast then he would make certain that Dean would make his famous biscuits and gravy that you absolutely drool over.

You just shrug. You really enjoy the warm coffee in your hands, the silky and bitter liquid that coats your mouth and reminds you that you’re back to your life. That you got out.

Except technically, you didn’t.

You got out from under Lucifer's thumb, but he’s still there.

And the ‘it’ that you got out of? Yeah, your brain? You would never leave- technically.

You stare down at the half empty cup in your hands, deciding on if it’s worth it to finish a measly cup of luke-warm coffee or not. You decide not to decide and simply set the cup on Sam’s side table.

“How’re you feeling, honey?” Sam asks, keeping pet names lush in his dialogue because he knew how much it soothed you. You pulled in your bottom lip, nibbling on the soft skin.

“Can you get my sweater,” you tick your head to your dresser on the other side of the room. Sam’s face hosts a sweet smile, loving and admiring. They say it takes more muscles to frown, but the lift of Sam's lips, despite the growing weight of guilt and worry, are starting to disprove that simple fact. He nods, standing to retrieve the sweater. It was a comfort piece of yours, large and warm, soft and drowning. He also grabs you a pair of comfortable shorts to wear with it.

Sam helped maneuver the outfit on your exhausted body, the cloth settling like a light and powdery blanket of snow. Sam takes the towel and hangs it up in the bathroom before returning with a hairbrush. He sits next to you on the bed, placing his hand on your knee.

“You should really eat something, love,” he pushes back a wet strand of hair that was right in your eyes.

“In a little bit, not hungry,” you take the brush from Sam, brushing through your hair sloppily, allowing some droplets to land on the comforter beneath you.

Sam understands, knowing you’re not usually hungry super early in the morning, but hoping that you’re not just ignoring your body’s needs. He lets the moment rest in this comfortably tense silence. So many unspoken words on the tip of his lips but the necessity to say any of them flying out the window.

He almost thought of mentioning Dean waking up to a lonely bed but he didn’t want to make you feel guilty. A part of him wondered when Cas would be back though.

“What’re you thinkin’, honey?” Sam asks, reaching out for your hand once you set down the brush.

“Waiting for him to come back,” you say, keeping your eyes glued to the desk across from the room. Sam follows your gaze and swallows, trying to keep a strict hold on his facial expressions as he turns back to you. “He’s real, isn’t he?”

Sam sighs, feeling his chest clench with the harsh reality of, yeah, that’s true. “A projection of him, at least.”

You just nod slowly.

“But I’ve been thinking,” Sam nods, his trademark puppy-dog eyes watching you with such a wash of comfort. “Me and Dean have these enochian sigils on our ribs that basically prevent angels from finding us. First, I think you should get them too, and second, maybe Cas knows of something that can imprint your skull too, or maybe another banishing sigil that’s less… forceful.” Sam finishes carefully, hoping he chose his words just right as to make the information settle easy in your ears.

Less forceful? Why would that sigil be a problem-?

Oh, fuck.

“Cas,” you breath out with wide eyes, turning your full attention to Sam who immediately shakes his head. He tries to assure you that it’s alright but the guilt has already finished its foundation in your gut. Because of you, Dean's boyfriend (even if he may not outwardly admit it), and your best friend- Cas, has been banished from his own home here at the bunker. “I-Is he okay? I didn’t even think about it. I just needed him gone. Sam-, I really didn’t mean to-.”

“Hey, hey, honey. It’s okay,” he nods, placing a hand on your cheek, hoping to coax you out of your panic. Your eyebrows pinch in regret. “He’ll understand, I promise,” that still didn’t really make you feel any better.

You nibble on your lip, letting your gaze drop to the floor beneath you. Sam has let his hand run through your wet hair, feeling the strands, settling them neatly.

“Wanna go to the kitchen? Get some more coffee?” He suggests, still carding through your hair and counting the different highlights, even if slight.

“Is Dean gonna be upset?” Your voice is small and worried- genuinely worried- that Dean would be mad at you for sending Cas away for a couple hours.

“No, baby, no, he understands. I already talked to him,” he assures, petting your hair with a tad of force to hopefully encourage you to turn back to face him again. You only continued to nibble your lip, the soft skin on the inside of your mouth was soothing and it squished under your teeth just right.

“C’mon, love,” Sam nudges softly, hoping to get you out of this room. You’re about to say no when you hear Cas’ voice. Your head perks up and your heart skips with guilty relief.

“Okay,” you nod, looking up at the door and then back to Sam who smiles warmly. He stands, reaching for your hands as he does so to pull you up with him. He snakes an arm around your waist to guide you out of your room. The cool air rushing past your wet hair tightens your scalp just a bit. It feels refreshing.

Muffled voices lead you down the path that you already know to be the kitchen. Turning into the room, you see Cas standing in front of a casually leaning Dean who looks up and down the angel with a warm smirk. Loving and domestic.

That’s what you four created here, in this post-apocalyptic style shelter that’s mostly underground. A loving and domestic home. Where Cas and Dean don’t have to worry about prying or judgmental eyes and where you and Sam don’t have to stress over the safety of each other. This place is home. Your home. And Lucifer is fucking ruining it.

You don’t see him just yet. It’s only Cas, and for that you’re thankful.

Cas notices you first, his affectionate eyes moving from one love in his life to another. You met the Winchesters through Cas after he helped you (well basically saved you) with a case a few years back.

He calls your name, filled with weighted love and understanding. He walks past Dean and towards you. “How’re you feeling?” He checks you over but mainly keeps his eyes on yours. Cas claimed he could read you like a book but you were not so sure. Of course, that’s just stubborn ignorance on your part though.

“I’m sorry for kicking you out,” you apologized, hoping it sounded lighthearted enough to take as a humorous apology, but your tone and face leads no further clues to allow someone to laugh. Cas still does though, knowing you meant to phrase it just in a way to be awkwardly apologetic.

“Don’t be sorry, I’m just glad you were able to get some sleep,” Cas nods. In the back of his head, he remembers when Sam couldn’t sleep at all and how it led him to a ward. That thought also leads him to conclude that 75% of the beings in this room have endured a psychological torture at the hands of Lucifer in the extent of prominent hallucinations. He shoves the thoughts away to focus on the now.

“We were hoping that maybe you’d know something that could help keep Lucifer at bay but not you,” Sam explains. Cas flicks his eyes back to Sam to intake the words and then he looks off to the side thoughtfully.

“Perhaps,” he nods, still stoically zoned in on nothing visual- completely mental. “May I?” Cas outstretched his hand gently. You nod and he hovers his hand over your forehead, emitting a beacon of light that, again, warms your skin and soothes the underlying ache in your skull. When he pulls away, his face is a twist of confusion that makes Sam’s stomach sink.

“What is it?” Sam asks quickly, before you can even get your eyes fully open again. Cas looks up at Sam with a slightly gaped mouth, closing it to look back at you and actually find how to say this.

“Your levels of Valerian haven’t changed,” he states. You feel your breath hitch, it’s been 12 hours at least, shouldn’t they be down at all? Even a little bit? “Ideally, yes,” Cas answers, and you realize you were accidentally praying to him.

“What does this mean? How do I make it go away?” You ask, hoping to god that Cas will have the perfect solution hidden behind his back with a pretty bow and neat wrapping around it for you to tear into and take like a greedy child.

“We should talk to Rowena,” Cas suggests, knowing it’s the best choice. Dean's instinctual gut reaction is ‘hell no’, not wanting more magic would be the solution, and Cas can sense this, but Sam knows that Rowena is the best bet. Not only is she one of the most powerful witches they’ve come across, but the pure spite alone she would cast on Lucifer for helping would be enough motivation for her.

You nod, trusting Rowena, knowing she has her flaws but so does everyone. Only difference is she’s never had a support system like the individuals in this room.

“Okay,” Sam whips out his phone with no hesitation.

After a short phone call, there’s a promise of Rowena in about a day or so.

“For the time being, if you need to use the sigil, then I’ll just go far enough to not be affected,” Cas states. Your eyes soften at his simple understanding. You nod with a deep inhale of air and a tired smile as a thanks.

“That’s it, we need some breakfast,” Dean straightens his posture and clasps his hands as he heads to the fridge. The sound makes you flinch, but Dean doesn’t notice. You just shake your head at Cas as a silent, ‘I’m fine’, and the soft rub of Sam's hand on your lower back shows that he noticed, but won’t address it further than the simple comforting brush of his palm.

“C’mon,” Sam leads you to a seat at the bar, his heart aching with affection in the simple act. The fact that you’re just here with him now to watch over and protect is enough to make him feel okay right now, despite everything else. He pulls out a seat for you which you take, and then he takes the one next to you.

The air is tense, so many unspoken truths floating around the room with no promised destination. You nibble on your sore lip, looking down at the counter. Everyone can feel it. Everyone knows it. It makes your skin crawl with unease.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters after a thick pop erupts from the item in his hands. The sounds make you jerk your head up to see what happened. Dean looks up from the item in his hand, showing his embarrassment through a glare, and utters, “it spooked me.”

You stifle a laugh, because the oh-so scary item was just the roll of biscuits that snapped open in his hands. Sam is also watching with a stiff smile, one he knows will irk his brother further if he lets it grow.

“Shut up,” Dean rolls his eyes at both of you, setting down the rolls and turning to grab a can of non-stick spray for the pan. As soon as his back is turned, a small giggle melts past your lips and Sam smiles over at you. The humor in a roll of dough scaring Dean as if a ghost had just popped out in front of him- actually, no. You’ve seen that before and he’s never jumpy like that. That makes it a touch funnier.

Cas walks over to help with breakfast, his own smile ticks his lips up just a tad, strictly out of fondness for you. As he rounds the counter, he catches Dean pulling out the can of spray with a pleased smirk on his face. A smirk that he quickly wipes away and replaced with an annoyed scowl before turning back to you and Sam. “Do you want breakfast or not?” He grumbles, lifting the pan and spraying a generous layer of essentially really crappy butter as he sees it.

“Yes, please, sorry,” you murmur, trying to keep your fits of laughter away as honestly you’re too tired to deal with trying not to laugh in the face of a cranky authoritarian. Sam just watches you, enjoying the small peak of happiness you’re experiencing at this moment. He knows what's to come, he knows the troubles you both will soon face, on your own and together. He knows the toll Lucifer will have on you when all of this is over and he has a pretty tight bet that even with the Valerian gone, that the pesky stain of The Devil will leave charred remnants that will provoke consistent hallucinations.

But goddamn, he just wants right now to stay as perfect as it feels.

And you just want to ignore the crimson, glowing red dots in the reflection of the microwave.

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here

>tags: @internallysalad, @checkedoutghost

[pluckyredhead]

hi! i'm new to comics and i got in through reading your fics and wayne family adventures. i've since started reading more of the mainstream verse and i realized that most comic fans consider wfa to be totally fanon. you're one of the few i saw that disagrees. would you mind elaborating a lil on why? i'm too new to really form an opinion either way but i'd like to know your's!

(also yes i really did stalk your blog back years worth of posts i'm sorry! 😭😭)

Aw I love this! Welcome!

So I think it's really important to be clear on definitions here:

Canon means it's part of an official text. It's literally in a comic (or book or movie or other property) published or licensed by DC.

Fanon means it's made up by fans. That doesn't mean bad or good, it just means that it comes from fandom and is not part of the official text.

Wayne Family Adventures is an official licensed comic by DC, so by definition, it cannot be fanon. That doesn't mean everyone has to like it, but it's not a fan comic. It's an official DC product. It's not fanon.

Now, WFA isn't part of the main DCU canon. It takes place in a separate universe. The Jason in Batman #138 and the Jason in WFA are not the same and they are having very different experiences. (And I'm sure the Jason in WFA would be grateful if he knew.)

But that's no different than a comic that takes place in an alternate universe, like Dark Knights of Steel or DCeased, or a movie like Blue Beetle or a show like My Adventures with Superman. They all take place in their own universes, but all of those universes are canon. None of them are fanon.

What I think most people mean when they say WFA is fanon is that WFA draws on tropes and characterizations that are popular in fandom. Which...yes, absolutely. This is on purpose, and honestly, it pisses me off when people complain about it. (Not you, anon! Your question was lovely, you just triggered my unskippable cut scene of dialogue. Sorry lol.)

Wayne Family Adventures is probably the single best idea DC has had in the 20 years I've been reading comics. (The second best was the kids and YA graphic novel lines.)

I just checked, and WFA has 1.3 MILLION subscribers. That's more than every floppy comic starring Batman sells in a month, combined. It's more than literally any superhero comic has sold in decades - in this century! The combined strips have over A HUNDRED MILLION VIEWS. That is bonkerstown. That is a readership like DC hasn't seen since the 1970s. That is unparalleled success, and it's introducing characters like Kate Kane and Duke Thomas to a whole new audience.

Now, WFA was clearly designed to appeal to Batfans who were active on social media and fanfic sites like AO3 and Wattpad, and Webtoon readers. The readership of Webtoon is mostly young and female. Fandom as a whole is mostly female. The writer of WFA is female.

And maybe I'm not being fair here, but when I see people dismiss WFA as "just fanon," I always catch a whiff of "It's not a real Batman comic. It's a girl comic for girls."

I have spent the past 20 years begging DC (and Marvel, DC is not alone in this) to see women as a viable audience - as their largest potential growth audience! I have watched in dumbfounded frustration as they ignored the juggernaut success of Raina Telgemeier and Ngozi Ukazu and Alice Oseman running rings around the NY Times bestseller list and counted a 50k shipment here and there as a resounding triumph. I have literally seen them throw out survey responses from women because "those women had an agenda." (This is a true story. 2011 was rough, y'all.)

And all of a sudden, they gave us a comic actually catering to women and young people and fandom, and they put it on the most popular, current, modern platform for comics availably - and it's brilliant. It's smart and funny and stunningly drawn and every episode makes clever, inventive use of the scrolling format. They FINALLY gave us a girl comic for girls, and it's a masterpiece.

And yes, it riffs on fanon concepts. It also has its roots firmly in mainstream DCU canon. It references deep cuts. CRC Payne and StarBite know their shit. Jason Todd being a bookworm may be a fanon staple, but he does plenty of reading - including Jane Austen - in the 100% canon mainstream DCU comics.

It's not going to be for everything, because nothing is. It's completely fine if you don't like WFA. No one has to read it or enjoy it. If you're into Batman for the darkness and the crime and the ongoing plotlines and the angst, WFA won't be for you, and that's totally fine!

But to finally, finally be valued as a reader by DC, to have them do something smart and innovative and so, so well executed, and have the exact people they made it for dismiss it out of hand because Bruce has a "World's Okayest Dad" mug or whatever? Yeah, that chafes.

[getthembees]

What do you think about that one user who's been commissioning those arts of Connor Kent (that one clone of Lex Luthor and Superman and also the guy that everyone in the DC Fandom ships with Tim Drake) and Cassandra Cain?

For context: there's this user whose very dedicated to preserving the ship of Koncass (as a reference to that one early 2000s brief romance that Cassandra Cain and Connor has had with each other before they decided to just stay as friends) and like he's been using his money to commissioned lots of artists on the site to draw Koncass arts. How do you feel about the ship and that user?

Also, what is your opinion on the idea of Cassandra having a male love interest and why do you like/dislike it? (well, it's to reference the writers have love interests as males in her earlier runs, including the Shadow of the Batgirl graphic novel where she dated Eric). Do you also know why the fandom like or doesn't like it?

Well firstly people can do whatever they want with their money LOL if someone really loves casskon and they’re commissioning casskon art then power to them, not only are they funding artists which is great but they’re doing it for something they like. which is also great. Frankly it would be weird for someone to have any strong opinion on someone doing smth as harmless as… commissioning artists for work for a ship that was canon at one point?? idk why anyone would Have an opinion on that.

As for Casskon in general… kinda complicated. I generally appreciate what it meant writing wise for Cass and her relationships/her perception of relationships. I think there’s a lot of interesting stuff to be had there. Unfortunately that entire issue also brought with it a lot of overt sexualization of Cass, especially after she had just said she hates feeling objectified by men. And more importantly Cass notices that Kon is staring at her in a way that “makes her feel bad” because she knows what he is thinking and feeling. And i really, really just cannot look past that to enjoy them as a ship. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Honestly the entire issue and subsequent date gave me such second hand embarrassment that I mostly skimmed it, i just really didn’t like it. I felt it was extremely rushed and strange..? I know there were editorial reasons for it not happening and i’m glad but i also understand that’s why it felt like speedrunning a ‘relationship’. The only thing i thought was cute was that their date was beating the shit out of monsters together and the rest of it was just… eh. to me.

As for Cass and male love interests: on a personal level i headcanon Cass as a lesbian with comphet and mainly ship her with steph, so i generally wouldn’t want a male love interest. But on a writing level not a single male love interest that Cass has had has interested me at all, and they’ve all felt like a writer just shoving her into Normal Boy Like Girl Relationship. Like none of them have build up or anything interesting to make me care about them. Tai’darshan is maybe the more interesting of the bunch but he didnt intrigue me all that much, Zero has zero personality (lmao) that guy from her ESL class in ‘08 also felt weird and. yeah. tldr none of them have been good. I can’t speak for the entire fandom but stephcass is her biggest ship so that’s a factor, a lot of people also see her as a lesbian w comphet or as aroace, and i generally think her male ships don’t appeal to most people! That’s the vibe i’m gathering at least.

[fruitsoxs]

Hi, socks! i've read your Vash and Wolfwood as roommate. But, hear me out! They as reader's bodyguard😳 Feel free if it is prince/ss or Idol reader!

Thank you, and i love your fanfic!

Went noble reader because i’m a sucker for knight/guard x noble lol

pairings; vash x (GN)reader, Woflwood x (GN) reader warnings; suggestive themes in wolfwood's but no nsfw, hint at attempted sa/abuse in wolfwoods(nothing graphic), mention of starvation as a punishment in wolfwood's, notes; hope this is okay! if you cant tell vash's is very cute and wolfwoods..is too i promise

Vash

When he gets assigned as your guard you’re pretty sure you’re going to melt

He’s very sweet, and super cute

He seems a little nervous around you at first though. He keeps stuttering and messing up proper etiquette (which is adorable)

You warm up to him pretty fast

He’s nonviolent, but also somehow one of the best fighters anyone has ever seen???

He’s vowed not to kill anyone, but he’ll beat someone’s ass to keep you safe.

The first time he has to beat someone up is during an assassination attempt on your life. Some crazed man runs through your gardens wielding a knife- and You’ve never seen Vash move so fast before. The man is down in seconds, out cold. Vash just smiles at you. You basically fall for him there and then

You like to sneak sweets to him that are meant for you. You get yelled at for it, but the look on his face is worth it

Sometimes the two of you will sneak into the kitchens late at night and ransack the place to make each other little treats

He also likes to take you out for horse rides, and walks. He like show happy you seem when you get away from your home, and get a chance to just run around and be yourself

He hates watching you force yourself into the stuffy standards of being a noble. He knows it makes you unhappy

So he does everything in his power to make you smile

After the two of you get really close, he’ll start sneaking up to your room to hang out at night. Sometimes you’ll sneak out to find him, and the two of  you will go stargazing and talk

One of those nights you learn how he lost his arm, and the two of you fall asleep with your head on his chest

The next morning you have to rush home. Luckily your maids are cool and hide that you were ever gone

Falling in love with him is scary, because the two of you could be separated if anyone ever finds out

Somehow the both of you just know you are in love though

You don’t have to say anything. You just start holding hands when nobody is looking…and those late nights together get a bit more intimate 

The first time you kiss it’s in the kitchens. He’s trying to make some silly little recipe one of the cooks gave him, and he ends up getting flour all over his face. You start wiping it off and he just kisses you.

That’s when you know that this is the man you will love forever. 

Sadly, your family has other plans

Plans that Vash refuses to let happen. 

One night after finding out you are to be wed, he climbs up onto your balcony and starts asking you to pack whatever stuff you want

It turns out he has a few friends that are willing to help the two of you run away together

You garb the few things you want, and leave with your arms wrapped around him as the two of you ride off into the darkness

You get a cute little house in a random village

You finally are free

He gives you a ring on top of that little tart recipe that he was trying to make the first time you kissed

Wolfwood

Wolfwood is a menace from the start

Your family decides to hire a personal guard to watch over you after there’s a few death threats sent their way

The decide to hire the most expensive, and experienced merc they can find

They have no idea that this merc HATES rich people

The moment you meet Wolfwood calls you things like “brat” or “prince/ss” in the most demeaning ways

He’s rude, and you’re pretty sure you hate him

But also he’s so hot-

I imagine he’s all rough, with callused hands and scars all over his hands and arms. 

He also flirts with you because he’s shameless

The first time he saves you is also the first time you see the kind side he likes to hide away 

You’re out on the town, doing a bit of shopping in the market when the two of you get separated somehow. 

While looking for him, you get cornered by two guys who do not have the best intentions with you

Right as they grab you to hall you off, Wolfwood appears.

He doesn’t even need a weapon. He takes both of the men out with his fists without breaking a sweat

After the men are knocked out, Wolfwood pulls you away and starts asking if you’re alright. When he sees the bruise on your wrist from how hard the man grabbed you  he tries to run back to the men muttering “i’ll kill em”

You stop him and tell him it’s okay, you just want to go home. He takes you home right away

That night you clean and dress the wounds on his knuckles and he falls in love with you

After that he still calls you names, but you can sense something other than hate behind his words. They become terms of endearment instead

He still hates all your friends, and family

Your first kiss is heated. You’re practicing piano, and he’s sitting next to you

You teach him how to play a few notes of a song, directing his fingers 

After he plays it successfully you kiss his cheek and he responds by slamming his lips against yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth

That piano is then used for…other things…

After that you two constantly sneak in kisses and ahem quickies whenever you can

He also notices that your family doesn’t really treat you well pretty fast

He sees the way they take away your meals when you’ve done something they think is bad

He gets progressively more angry until he finally snaps and just takes you away from that life

You leave in the middle of the day, and Wolfwood threatens to kill anyone that tries to come after you

You move into a cute little cottage where you can finally live your dream

Away from that horrible life, and happy with Wolfwood

[resident-gay-bitch]

kinda a niche au concept but i think a lot of people will get it but also it’s so random lol: corroded coffin friendship / steddie / buckingham / more lol

okay, my dad watches car shows all the time like the car sos shit, and i don’t really like them, but i’ve always enjoyed one: Counting Cars. the main mechanic is like a metalhead and they’re all kinda punky and alternative and just a bunch of metalhead dads pimping out old cars and shit.

henceforth, the au idea: how are you seeing how our beloved eddie might fit into this?

SO say CC got big enough to be known kinda western globally or whatever, maybe bigger idk i don’t care but anyway. maybe they were a one hit wonder in the 80/90’s or whatever.

but they stopped playing because they all kinda wanted to settle down and stop partying and wanted to buy houses and not have to tour all the time or whatever right. say gareth met a girl and got married to her and they had a kid on the way, jeff and grant wanted to settle down and live a cosy steady life together, eddie was just so fucking tired of being front man idol or whatver. and they all just wanted to get back into the mechanic shop - maybe they all apprenticed at thatcher tyers or whatever in hawkins when they were younger.

whatever the reason, they’re ex-famous band who are pretty ficking rich and love working on cars and shit. so they open a shop and start fixing up cars. they get a lot of rapport because of their name; the shops called corroded cars or something similar to the band name. eddie runs the place because it’s mostly his passion and he impulse bought the shop himself whilst drunk one night and then they were all just like okay yeah let’s do this lol.

maybe one night they’re all chilling at gareth’s place for “family” dinner and after dinner they’re just watching telly and a car show comes on and then they get the idea to start a show!!! so they do!!!

eddie’s the main guy, obviously. he’s always been the drama queen confident one so he runs it all, and it’s His shop anyway. eddie is the idiotic, loveable, idiot but he’s also just a cool down to earth alternative guy who headbangs whilst working on engines and REFUSES to cut his hair.

i think jeff would be the head painter, graphic artist,. i feel such an arty vibe from him ya know? i think that would be his area of expertise. the audience would love his general calm vibe but also adore how easily he puts everyone in their place in a second and is so secretly sassy.

i think argyle would be the airbrush guy and also works in paint / design. he’s Definitely not always high and is just funny like that… definitely. his niche opinions and random curiosities keep the audience captivated.

gareth would be the detailer i think. he’s got a sort of perfectionist vibe and he’d always have a go when eddie brings in a car or a bike he’s just been fixing the motor of or whatever and there’s grease stains all over the doors and shit. the audience would love their banter.

grant would be the bike shop manager, he’s got a strong interest in motorbikes and that’s his area of expertise. he’ll spend hours perfecting one part of the body of a bike and eddie adores his dedication every fuckinf time.

jonothan would be the tech guy. he finds ways to update old cars to help them run smoothly whilst feeling authentic in the drive. some of the tech he pulls out is next level and everyone in the shop will spend an entire episode gushing about this one feature in a car he added that makes it feel like a spy car or something.

Nancy!! she’d be the behind the scenes manager. eddie hired her about one month into the buisiness when he realised none of the CC guys could / or wanted to do the books and shit. she’s smart as hell and a total hard ass when it comes to their aloof attitude and carelessness, but she’s also good fun and a total girlboss. eddie relies on her to keep the shop afloat, he’d be lost without her. she’s a fan favorite because she’s the only one who can attempt to put eddie in his place and acctually succeed. anyone goes and tells eddie he needs to think about the budget before he goes spending, he won’t even listen, she gives him one look and tells him no and suddenly he’s sheepish and nodding and walking away like a child who was told they can’t have a cookie. she’s in charge of all the books / finance / accounts / all that stuff!

(also, people are having a hard time figuring out if she’s dating john or argyle, or weather those guys are dating eachotjer, or if they’re all dating, or if None of them are dating)

Chrissy!! she’s adorable. a total fan favorite. she’s their receptionist and is currently taking an engineering course part time in college, finally taking the initiative to do something She actually wants to do. her sweet demeanour pulls customers and watchers in, and her determined attitude is what makes them stay. she’s like pure sugar, but so insanely smart. sometimes she’ll come and watch everyone as they work and if it’s not busy they’ll teach her different things and let her try. everyone loves the episodes where chrissy gets to try and fix things or paint things or learn things!

ROBIN!!! my girl! ugh! she’s TOTALLY an iconic mean lesbian okay. she’s always got banter with the guys, and she’s so cool calm and clllected, insulting them all the time. the girls in the audience go crazy when she’s onscreen in just a wife beater tank and got them gay girl muscles out! she works close with eddie on motors and shit but she’s also the project scout. she looks for new things for them to try and brings these ideas / cars / bikes / whatever else over to eddie to get out into the show! but the audience loves her even more when they see her totally awkward dorky side come out the first episode where chrissy comes over and watches robin work. they’ve never seen robin drop a spanner so much! chrissy is the only one who can fluster robin like that. the audience is rooting for their romance.

and the steddie! so robins totally uber rich best friend likes collecting old cars. and she’s been trying to get him on the show for a while because he has Such cool cars but he’s never needed fixing or pimping. until he goes and buys another one and it just won’t run and it’s all beaten down but he just HAD to buy it because it was his dream car as a little kid or something. so he comes on the show with his car and - well, the main reason he’s been avoiding it because he actually used to crush on lead guitarist and vocalist eddie munson back in the 90’s - eddie obviously being the face of the show greets him with nancy and robin and they talk about his car and eddie gets Flustered!

robin has a totally hot best friend whos So ficking queer And knows heaps about cars and is standing so close, shoulders touching with eddie as he shows pictures of his collection on his phone and eddie pretends he’s looking at the cars and not steve’s ring adorned hands.

steve is also highly protective of his cars and so he hangs around whilst they work on his ride. he and robin are so chatty and bitchy together and the audience love it. and eddie can’t stop Staring!!

by episode three of steve being featured in it people are posting shit trying to notify steve and robin that eddie is so gay for steve!

and then steve’s car is done and done and then he leaves the show. and then a couple of episodes later robin approaches eddie and whispers - but the cameras are right there - to eddie asking if he has been perving on her best friend and it’s So funny to everyone cause eddie’s kinda terrified and she’s threading to burry him alive if he hurts her steve and- eddie goes red when he realises that robin just confirmed he had a chance with steve.

anyway. suddenly steve has Many more appearances on the show :)

and obviously robin and chrissy get together!!’

and no one ever finds out about the love triangle between nancy jon and argyle (they’re all polly)

anyway. i just think that’s cute.

[goatgoatgoat7778]

I really don’t know why I have such an infatuation with this character lol. I haven’t felt confident in my art or writing in a while but I tried I guess. This did end up twice as long as the rough draft and I also have a second pic sketched out (the Railgunner needs love too, after all) so no one can say I didn’t try!!! Jus ignore how sketchy the pic is X’D

On another note, I have a test coming up with a LOT of vocab so maybe that’ll get me to write more. If you have any ideas/prompts for a story, you can send them to me; it might help spur some inspiration since I don’t really have any ideas atm.

Contains: Women-centric hunger kink, animals killed for food (not graphic though), one character briefly implies that guns are cool (If you want to skip these last two, stop reading after they get to Rallypoint Delta)

The first hour after she dropped from UES Safe Travels were difficult for the Huntress. She woke up late and missed the shuttle she was supposed to travel on, so she took an individual drop pod. Her descent into the atmosphere was turbulent, and her pod landed upside-down.Even worse, she landed far from her squad, alone on a dark foggy mountain side surrounded by monsters. Alone, at least until she ran into the Railgunner a few hours later, who was more than happy to team up with her. Things had been going well as they traveled but now, 72 hours later, the Huntress was starting to run on fumes. She raised her bow, arms wavering, aiming at a wisp about to fire at the Railgunner. Before she could release her bow, the Railgunner gracefully whipped around and shot it square in the middle, killing it instantly.

“You alright?” the Railgunner questioned as she brushed off the dust on her pants. “You’ve been a bit slow lately.”

The Huntress sighed, “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Let’s just get to the next teleporter.” Suddenly her stomach shook hungrily, and she brought a hand to it. She hoped the Railgunner couldn’t hear it growl. Back in her earlier years as a huntress, it was well known by her confreres that her stomach was so noisy and active it could easily give her position away- the fact that she was still one of the best in her profession regardless was seen as a testament to her skill. She sucked in her gut, as she often did when out on a hunt, to try and dampen the noise.

Part of her wanted to ask the Railgunner if she had any food to spare. Due to her lack of preparation before dropping onto the alien planet, she had run out of her rations on day one. The Railgunner had seemingly come prepared, so the Huntress felt it would be inappropriate to ask that her incompetence be covered. Surely she would find food eventually. She just had to wait it out. 

Two different pathways in the aqueduct appeared before them, both sprawled with chests carrying items necessary for their survival. “Split up?” the Railgunner asked rhetorically. 

The Huntress nodded and they parted ways. Her stomach began to churn and rumble once again and it seemed to echo across the rocky chasms of the dried aqueduct. At least she no longer had to actively hide it from her partner, and could focus on fighting and looting. With each chest she opened her stomach twisted in disappointment. A crowbar, backup magazine, and a medkit. Useful, but inedible. The energy drink she found seemed promising at the time, but it only caused her stomach to roil and gurgle even more intensely than before, irritated that it was filled but somehow still hungry. “What do you want from me?” she whined, resting a hand on her sunken-in tummy. 

 There was little time for rest though, because in the distance she saw the Railgunner waving her down having found the teleporter. She pushed down on her stomach.“You better stay quiet, or else!” she threatened. Her stomach gave a soft grumble of what she hoped was compliance. 

Once she caught up to the Railgunner they activated the teleporter, summoning the Beetle Queen. Together, they took her and her beetle guards out quick and easy but the Huntress was enervated from hunger and when the teleporter was fully charged, she practically collapsed. 

“Are you okay?” the Railgunner asked, trying to hide the worry in her voice.

“Just need a break,” the Huntress replied casually. A long drawn-out groan evinced the cause of her fatigue. 

Grrrrooooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrwwwwwwwlllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

The Huntress’s face flushed beneath her helmet as the Railgunner cocked her head. “Was that your stomach?”

“Um, maybe?” Her stomach gave another belligerent grumble through her thin skinsuit, ensuring she could no longer deny its needs any more.

“Yeesh, I swear I saw your belly moving that time. When was the last time you ate?!”

The Huntress awkwardly fiddled with her fingers. “I, uh, ran out of food a couple days ago. Overslept, not enough time to pack.”

“Well why didn’t you-?! Nevermind. Here.” The Railgunner tossed her a protein bar. “Nothing special, but it should tide you over for a while.”

“Thanks,” the Huntress said as she devoured it greedily. Her stomach gave a small grumble with dissatisfaction, barely filled. She gave her ungrateful tummy a pat before they moved on through the teleporter. 

The teleporter took them to the abandoned camp Rallypoint Delta. After the two trudged through the snow for a while, they took a break for the night inside one of the forlorn cargo containers and huddled together. They were nowhere near freezing, but the close contact made them both more comfortable, though neither would outwardly admit it. 

“If I’d known we’d be taken to a frozen wasteland, I would have stayed back in the other place.” The Huntress shuddered, pushing herself closer to the Railgunner. 

“Mmhmm,” the Railgunner replied sleepily. 

Through the sound of icy wind blowing outside, the Huntress heard a noise. She readied her glaive just in case it was a new monster, but put it down when she heard the sound again.

Grooooooouuuuuuuuwwwwrrrrrrr

Hungry as she was, she knew it hadn’t been her this time. Gently she placed her hand against the Railgunner’s belly, hoping not to disturb her from her rest. She felt her stomach churning and grumbling beneath her rib cage. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen the Railgunner eat anything since they were at the aqueduct. Perhaps that protein bar had been the last of her rations. She pressed down in the crook of the Railgunner’s rib cage, inadvertently pushing a few grumbles out past her fingers. It was clear how painfully empty she was. 

The Railgunner, who’d been awake the whole time, hitched her breath. It was hard to keep up her cool, enigmatic facade with a growling stomach. More difficult still would be to admit that she liked the feeling of a hand assuaging her hunger pangs. Stupid pride. She crossed her arms.

The Huntress could tell she was abashed and tried to reassure her. “Hey, it’s alright. If anyone makes stomach noises cool, it’s you!”

“Well with a gun this big, there’s no way I can’t be cool.” she joked. “But… thanks.” The warm moment was short lived as a massive hunger pang rippled through her middle. She winced. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep like this. Maybe we should just keep exploring. I think we can handle it.”

“I know we can handle it,” the Huntress replied, pulling her up.

The two crept quietly through the dark and found that the camp was mostly devoid of useful items. They hoped it had been picked over by the survivors who they got split up from during the drop; maybe they were close by, and maybe they had food! But for now they were stuck with empty bellies and a long road ahead. 

“Shh! Look!” the Huntress whispered under her breath, pulling the Railgunner behind a rock. Peeking over the corner, the Railgunner could see a herd of unsuspecting bison. “How does some steak sound?”

The Railgunner’s mouth watered and she felt a large growl building up in her core. She pressed her arms into her gut and bent over to try and stifle it, but it was too little too late.

Grrroroooooooaaaaaarrrorooooooorrrrrrrrwwwwwwwrrrrrrrrgggggggrgllllllllllllllllllllleeee

Suddenly the bisons’ heads shot up and they looked directly at the rock they were hiding behind. They began to charge. Quick as lightning, the Huntress threw her glaives. The bison fell one by one as the glaives bounced between them. She wiped her brow. “Thank god for the stuff I found in the aqueduct. We could’ve been goners!”

“Now lies the issue of cooking it…” the Railgunner replied. She held up a container of gasoline. “I have this, though.”

“I mean… is that even safe?”

Both womens’ stomachs gave deep aching growls.

The Huntress shook her head. “Well, beggars can’t be choosers I guess.”

[angel-atelier]

𝓒𝓻𝔂𝓹𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓪

Crypasta is the name of my creepypasta AU! If you are sensitive to: horror, murder, religious trauma, violence, and mentioned abuse/SA it might be best if you skip out on it. I don't plan to go particularly hard on some of the more graphic elements, but they are there. Everything will be tagged accordingly

This a mix of Canon, Fanon, and my own HCs. I take inspiration from various au's so not every idea is entirely my own! I'm also not the best writer so this will be a learning process lol

Crypasta revolves around many of the creepypasta characters in the heavily fictionalized town of Cedar Springs, Michigan, and its nearby (fictional) city Wentford. The AU has many stories and rewrites inside of it, but no concrete ongoing story as of now. Crypasta is just a way to put the creeps in a setting that can be both realistic and fun with my hcs!

Cedar Springs is a run-down rural town that seems to attract the unusual. Serial killers, the paranormal, and cryptids all seem to be drawn to this unassuming place. Cedar Springs is extremely isolated and is the home the unkempt, forgotten Silverwood National Park, where many make it their home. The town has frequent disappearances, but no one seems to know or care about the people who go missing. The people of the town don't even whisper amongst themselves, time seems to hold still from the second you enter to when you leave.

Crypasta will have a focus on themes like religious trauma, forgiveness, guilt, regression, self-discovery, and family.

As I write more stuff, I'll link it here! The tag #crypasta has art and writing in it. Ty for reading!:

Lazari & Stripes

Alice & Ann

Dina & Jane

Fun facts!

Sadie facts

Nina Au Design

Lazari Au Design

[idiotwhowritesshipstuff]

Oooh you write for SDRA2? Can I have Yuki with a reader who reveals to him that they're in void? Like maybe they try to warn him or do something to halt voids plans? The concept runs around in my head rent free lol

Oooooh! So I was tempted to refuse this request for the sole fact that YUKI DOESNT DESERVE THIS BRO but I decided to give it a try as a sort of writing exercise. I had to rewatch some trial aftermaths to figure out the best way for him to react and when to place this scenario. I decided to place this situation after Emma's execution. I was originally gonna do it after chapter 3 but I think he would be too mad and as mentioned in my rules screaming and aggression at the reader is something I just can't write (personal reasons :P) and chapter 4 is too late.

I went for a more platonic angle as I think it works better as a friend scenario though there's no harm in interpreting here that Yuki and reader have romantic feelings for each other, I just didn't focus on that for this scenario.

I'm a bit disappointed in myself over how this scenario went as I don't think I fully realized its potential but I hope you enjoy!

Bonus note: I FORGOT THE HEADER TEXT MAN

Mod Monaca

TW: Reader's past is kept vague but considering they are a Void member it is described as being rather traumatic and has a mention of wanting to commit suicide. Yuki will unfortunately force the story out of them and while it is for justifiable reasons this may be uncomfortable to some so be warned. None of the TWs are written graphically but the warning still applies.

SDRA2 Yuki Maeda finding out reader is a void

The events of the second trial had left him severely shaken up. Not just because of the tragic losses of 4 of his classmates but the fact that so far, barring Mikado, Void has consisted of people who were famous celebrities. Just what was Void's goal? Why did they set up this killing game? How did Mikado convince such famous people to join his organization?

As the killing game carried on, these questions continued to plague him. He thought with Hajime's death, the voids would turn against Mikado and refuse to participate in the killing game anymore but Emma's words about murder being the only answer for Voids were chilling and no amount of support from Sora, Shinji and Setsuka let him shake off those eerie words. Yuki needed answers to his questions, he just never expected that you of all people would be the one to give him the answers he was looking for.

You two hadn't known each other for very long yet but you were the one he trusted the most in his class. Whenever he wasn't off training with Shinji, he would investigate with you and try to get to know you better. Despite your kind nature, you weren't the most open about your life prior to the killing school field trip. Yuki was nice enough not to pry since bringing up the past seemed to be something that caused you a lot of distress and he wasn't someone like Kokoro who was trained in mental health, all he could do in the event of upsetting you is change the subject.

He didn't know what to think when you asked him to meet in private, he trusted you a lot and believed in your close bond but considering what went down with Emma and Kokoro, he almost thought about bringing Shinji or Sora with him to your meeting. He decided to trust you wouldn't hurt him and simply told Shinji and Sora about his meeting with you so if you did decide to backstab him, they would know where to find him.

The best way to describe Yuki after your meeting where you confessed your true identity is exhausted. After the initial wave of shock over the news, he was gathering his courage to support you through your defection from Void when you chose to reveal to him what Void's goal was: To break his mind with a killing game and replace him with Master Utsuro.

It sounded so farfetched, the very idea that a group of people could come together to try and bring someone back to life by breaking someone down to an empty husk by committing murder in horrific ways so that the target would be so traumatized a new person could steal their body. This kind of scheme would be something he'd see in anime, not in real life!

Yuki's inability to properly grasp the reality of your group's plans for him would work in your favor a bit as he would be in such disbelief over the idea he wouldn't fully process the full implications of what success would've been to you so when you're done telling him everything, he would tell you to tell everyone else in the group about Void while he went to lie down in his room.

It would take him awhile to want to speak to you again after that break he took, Shinji would need to talk him into it and he would be occupied for a while as he would need to guard Nikei and Iroha who were beyond displeased at your betrayal but when he does get around to speaking to Yuki, Yuki would seek you out to try and understand why you ever consented to Void's plans.

Normally he would be more patient with you about your past but after everything that happened, he would demand you tell him why even if it hurt you. He would listen attentively to your story about what your life was like prior to meeting Utsuro, albeit with grit teeth as you described how hellish life was for you and how you just wanted to die at such a young age so the pain would go away. Your early childhood really gives him a new perspective about his own life, he's always wished for a more exciting life and desired to be something special but hearing how you had to live in an environment comparative to hell on Earth in order to obtain your ultimate talent from a man with powers that broke the very laws of nature, he's grateful for being an average high school student.

As shaken as he is over your true identity, he would comfort you after hearing about what drove you to participate in a killing game. He isn't sure how he can support you after you all escape Utsuroshima but learning that you weren't some heartless psycho willing to kill high schoolers for selfish reasons and were instead a person driven to despair clinging to whatever hope they had gives him the resolve to trust in you once more and mend your relationship.

[hollypies]

Hello Holly our bestie Holly first of all hello we hope you're having a lovely day love you sm please enjoy this photo of Himb

Second of all do you have any steam or switch game recommendations? Our birthday is in two weeks and people are still asking for present ideas and we've just. Run out.

HIMB!!! And Hihihi!!!!!!! Mwah!!!

Also oooooo I got a few recommendations!!!

For switch games

Ooblets. Stardew Valley/Pokémon in very very basic sense! It's got a cute artstyle and it's very relaxing!

A Hat in Time. Platformer I think. Like Mario Odyssey specifically? Very very fun would recommend! It's very charming :]

GRIS. ouughghg Gris is such a pretty game oohhh my gosh. Puzzle platformer, it's such a sweet game

Anuchard. OHGH I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS GAME! Puzzles mostly! It's translated a bit awkwardly but it's so pretty and the music is AWESOME! I wish more people played it

Hades. Im not sure if you've already played it but it's def worth the money and effort. Roguelike, and the story and artwork and characters are super fun.

Bioshock one and two! I'm not sure if you all like horror ish stuff or shooters but these games are really really cool. Be wary of flashing lights tho, if that's something you all struggle with maybe skip this one! I'd def recommend watching some lore videos on it tho lol

Subnautica. UNDERWATER !!! YIPPEE! its mostly survival and exploration but ohhh there's so so many mysteries and lore and HGHGFG

Hollow Knight. Obviously lol! Metriodvania! Wonderful story and intriguing lore. Gameplay is as fast as you want it to be.

I dont have a proper working pc so the only game o can recommend is the original!! DEUS EX!!!

It's so good, and even though the graphics are old it literally doesn't matter! It's such an experience, and the story is INCREDIBLY GOOD. so many little choices that affect things, and the combat/stealth is awesome. It's a bit slow at the start but once you figure things out it picks up the pace. Def mess with the settings tho, seriously. And some areas in game have flashing lights!!! Most of those areas can be avoided but just be aware. Also if you all get hit by a flamethrower CLOSE YOUR EYES. depending on the graphic settings it will flashbang you. Tyats the only complaints tho

Oohh also idk if Prey is on steam or not. Arkane Studios Prey. It's a good game. Shooter mostly, but the story and side stuff has had me hooked on it for years. Shame it didn't get as much attention as it deserved :(

[akatsuki-shin]

Wuthering Waves: 1st Day Review

Platform: PC/Laptop

Server: Asia

UID: 701132966 (let's be friends!)

Progress: Left Jinzhou City + Reached the Rearguards' Base

It's just going to be a simple review of what I like and what I don't like from my first day playing this game. Obviously, everything's going to be pretty subjective, so no need to be salty if I happen to dislike something you like.

= WHAT I LIKE =

Graphic and animation look pretty neat; I think HSR still looks better but I quite enjoy this one

Love the characters + NPC + enemy designs; I'm not saying it's super grand, but I find them easy on the eyes

As usual, I'm playing with JP dub because I love the voice actors and they don't disappoint so far

Found some mini-games and they're quite fun (e.g. Lion Dance flipping challenge, gliding/grappling challenge, raced against an old man in a dungeon)

Likewise, exploration mechanism feels pretty fun for the time being

Also love the music and sound works

Unexpectedly, I don't feel as dizzy as I thought I would be with the camera works so that's a good point, I guess

I can't yet say whether I like the equipment/upgrade/grinding mechanism because I'm still very early in the game. I'll observe this some more until I progress further.

= WHAT I DON'T LIKE =

Story hasn't shown anything interesting so far, I can't find anything that gets me hooked (this is an important aspect for me because I'm a story-heavy player); actually it's pretty much info dump up until this point

Subjectively-speaking, I prefer games with lots of handsome guys and obviously this game hasn't provided many of them since everyone you've met until this point is 90% female characters (I honestly won't last long if they keep throwing girls my way, so hopefully there will be more guys in the next update lol)

I'm not quite used to this kind of battle system; there are too many mechanisms and I can't read the tutorial/tips while fighting at the same time (I end up just hitting and dodging while spamming attacks and skills)

Exiting means automatically logging out unless you Alt+F4; who the hell think of this dumb idea

You can't use PlayStation Controller on PC unless you install DS4Windows or similar external software/driver, which is pretty dumb in my opinion because it means extra hassle

There's also no built-in Inverted Camera for the camera rotation; people ended up using some self-made codes on reddit or set it up manually using DS4Windows setting (like me), which is a lot of hassles

Voice-over is sometimes delayed, which is kinda annoying

I'm located in Indonesia and play in the Asia server instead of SEA. The ping was changing between yellow and red while I was playing but I didn't experience any lag whatsoever. There was one occasion in the first mini boss battle (under Jue's statue) where I lost connection for a few seconds, but that was all.

Anyway, will continue playing for now. Hopefully I will find stuffs that gets me hooked on this game for the long run.