#I wanna do something with this eventually

[lila-lou]

✨All over again - 2/4✨

Summary: After a crash leaves Dean with permanent memory loss, you’re nothing but a stranger to him now. Years of love, gone in an instant. But the hardest part isn’t that he forgot you, it’s that he doesn’t want to remember.

-requested-

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Language, Angst

Word Count: 4132

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

As the evening rolled in, the bunker was eerily quiet.

You were still in your room—your own room now. The hours had passed in a blur, but you hadn't moved much. The weight of everything sat heavy on your chest, exhaustion pressing down on you, but sleep never came. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw him. The way he had pulled off his ring, the way he had looked at you like you were nothing more than a stranger.

The love of your life—your husband—was gone. And he wasn’t coming back.

Meanwhile, Dean had buried himself in the garage, his hands occupied with Baby’s engine, like fixing something would make this easier. He hadn’t come back inside since he left the library, and Sam knew exactly why.

Dean was running.

Not that it surprised him. Dean had always run from things he couldn’t fix.

Sam sighed as he set the table, a familiar routine after years of traveling, of making whatever meal they could pull together feel like something normal. But tonight, it wasn’t normal. Nothing was.

He grabbed his phone, scrolling through the contacts, considering calling Cas, maybe even Jody, but he knew the truth: no one could fix this. Not even an angel.

With a deep breath, he stepped into the hall and called out, “Dinner’s ready”.

He didn’t expect you to respond. And you didn’t. You probably hadn’t eaten all day, but he doubted you cared.

Dean, though—Dean had to show up eventually. Sam knew his brother too well. He could avoid emotions, but he wouldn’t avoid food.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, he heard the heavy footsteps from the garage. Dean appeared in the doorway, wiping grease from his hands onto an old rag, his expression unreadable.

Sam leaned against the table, arms crossed. “She’s not coming out”.

Dean didn’t react right away, just tossed the rag onto the counter. “Figured”.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “You’re really not gonna talk to her?”.

Dean huffed out a breath, shaking his head. “Talk to her about what, Sam?”.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe about how she’s been locked in her room all day after you broke her damn heart?”.

Dean’s jaw tightened, his shoulders going rigid. “What do you want me to do?”, he muttered, voice quieter now. “I already told her the truth”.

Sam let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, you sure did”. He reached into his pocket and pulled out Dean’s wedding ring, holding it up between them.

Dean’s eyes flickered to the small piece of silver, and for a moment—just a second—something passed over his face. But then it was gone.

“Thought you’d wanna keep this”, Sam said, voice sharp.

Dean didn’t take it. Instead, he just shook his head. “It doesn’t mean anything anymore”.

Sam clenched his jaw, his fingers curling around the ring. “Bullshit”, he snapped. “It meant everything to you”.

Dean met his gaze, something flickering in his expression—guilt, frustration, something else even Sam couldn’t read. But then he just exhaled. “It’s over, Sam”. His voice was quieter this time, but it still cut deep.

Sam swallowed back the anger bubbling in his chest, before he slipped the ring into his pocket. “Fine”, he muttered. “But at least pretend you give a damn and sit down for dinner”.

Dean hesitated for a second, but then—like clockwork—he sat down, grabbing a plate like this was just another night. Like everything hadn’t just fallen apart.

The next morning came too soon, dragging in the dull ache of reality with it.

You barely slept. When you did, it was restless—filled with fleeting memories that felt more like ghosts, teasing you with what once was. The warmth of Dean’s body beside you, the sound of his laugh, the way he used to nudge you awake with a kiss to your shoulder.

Now, the only thing that greeted you was an empty room, a cold bed, and the harsh truth of being alone.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. Sam.

“Come on”, he called through the door, voice softer than usual. “Breakfast. Then we’re heading to a case”.

A case.

For the past few days, everything had been about Dean. His memory loss, his detachment, the way he had slowly pushed you away until he finally put the last nail in the coffin. But now, things were moving forward—just like that. As if nothing had happened.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and pushed yourself upright, feeling the weight of exhaustion in your limbs. You could hear Sam’s footsteps fading down the hall, giving you space, but the message was clear.

The world wasn’t going to stop for this. So, neither could you.

With a deep breath, you pulled on a hoodie and ran a hand through your hair, barely glancing at your reflection before stepping out into the hallway. The bunker felt colder than usual—though maybe that was just in your head.

When you reached the kitchen, Sam was already at the table, nursing a cup of coffee, scanning something on his laptop. Dean sat across from him, shoveling food into his mouth like nothing was wrong. Like he hadn’t shattered everything between you the day before.

You hesitated in the doorway, your stomach twisting. Dean didn’t even look up when you entered. Didn’t acknowledge you at all. And that fucking hurt. More than it should have.

Sam glanced at you, offering a small nod before sliding a plate toward the empty seat beside him.

You sat down, keeping your eyes on your food, even though you weren’t hungry.

The silence stretched on.

“So”, Sam finally said, filling the dead air. “Looks like we got a case up in Nebraska. Couple of disappearances near some abandoned farmland. Sounds like a possible wraith or maybe a revenant”.

You nodded numbly, barely listening.

Dean swallowed his last bite and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “How soon can we head out?”.

Sam eyed him, then flicked his gaze to you. “Soon as we’re ready”.

It wasn’t an invitation. It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a reminder. You were still a hunter. You still had a job to do.

Dean finally glanced at you then—just for a second. But there was no warmth, no hesitation. Just a silent, unreadable look before he pushed back from the table and stood. “I’ll get my stuff”. And just like that, he was gone again.

You stared at the empty space where he had been, fingers tightening around the edge of your plate.

You weren’t sure what hurt worse—losing him completely, or having him right in front of you, but feeling like he was already gone.

The drive to Nebraska was long, and the air inside the Impala was thick with silence.

Dean drove, eyes locked on the road, his expression unreadable. Sam sat in the passenger seat, occasionally glancing back at you, as if checking to make sure you were still breathing.

You were in the back. Where you hadn’t sat in years. It felt unnatural, wrong. This was the seat you used to claim only when you were teasing Dean, stealing his cassette tapes, kicking your feet up on the upholstery just to get a rise out of him.

Now, you sat there because it was the only place left for you.

The space between you and Dean wasn’t just physical. It was something deeper, something that felt impossible to close. And the worst part? He seemed fine with it. Like he didn’t even notice.

Sam cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat. “So, uh, I checked out the reports again before we left. Witnesses say they saw a figure near the last house that got hit. Human-shaped, but… off”.

Dean hummed in acknowledgment, keeping his eyes on the road. “Off how?”.

Sam clicked on his phone, pulling up his notes. “One guy said it moved too fast. Another said the eyes looked weird—like they reflected light, kind of like an animal”.

Dean nodded. “Wraith or skinwalker, then”.

“Yeah, maybe”.

Silence fell again.

You rested your head against the cool window, watching the scenery blur by. Normally, on these long drives, Dean would reach over and squeeze your knee. You used to play games—counting how many crappy motels you passed, arguing over which diner in which town had the best pie.

Now, you were just there. Existing. Nothing more.

“(Y/N)”, Sam’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. You blinked, glancing up to see him looking at you in the mirror. “What do you think?”.

You realized then that you hadn’t been listening. “Uh… yeah. Sounds like a wraith”, you said quickly, pretending to know what they had just been talking about.

Dean didn’t react.

Sam, of course, noticed. His brow furrowed slightly, but he let it go. “Alright. We’ll check the victim’s houses first, see if we can track where it’s hiding”.

You nodded, then went back to staring out the window.

The rest of the drive continued in that suffocating quiet, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the occasional flip of Dean’s turn signal.

When you finally pulled into town, Dean parked outside a small diner—classic, predictable. “Food first”, he muttered, killing the engine.

Sam got out without question, stretching his legs, but you hesitated for a second before following. Sam fell into step beside you, keeping his voice low. “You don’t have to do this, you know”.

You swallowed hard. “Do what?”.

“Pretend like this is normal”.

You let out a quiet breath, forcing a tight smile. “Isn’t it?”.

Sam didn’t answer. Because you both knew the truth. Nothing about this was normal. Nothing about this was okay. But you weren’t going to fall apart. Not now.

Inside the diner, the three of you slid into a booth—Sam on one side, you and Dean on the other. The old leather creaked beneath you, and the scent of cheap coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air. It should have felt familiar, comforting. But it didn’t.

Dean barely glanced at you as he picked up the menu, flipping through it like nothing was wrong. Like this was just another morning.

And then—he did it. Right in front of you. He glanced up, eyes tracking the waitress as she walked past, his gaze lingering on her ass before he smirked to himself and went back to his menu.

Your stomach twisted violently.

Sam saw it, too. You knew because his jaw tightened slightly, his eyes flickering from you to Dean with something like disbelief.

Dean didn’t even notice. He just sat there, cool as ever, completely unaware that his casual, thoughtless action had just gutted you.

Because that was the thing—he had never done that around you. Not since the day he fell for you. Sure, before you, Dean had always been a flirt, always had a wandering eye, always made some dumb joke about a “solid ten” when you passed a pretty girl. But when he had you? You had been it for him.

There had been no wandering, no second glances, no careless flirting. He had made it clear, over and over again, that you were the only woman in the damn world as far as he was concerned.

Now, he was looking at another woman like you weren’t even sitting right there. Like you were nothing.

You clenched your jaw, staring hard at the menu in front of you, willing yourself not to react. Not to let him see how much it hurt.

The waitress—young, blonde, pretty—sauntered over with a bright smile, notepad in hand. “What can I get you boys?”. She barely glanced at you.

Dean grinned up at her, easy and charming, like this was the most natural thing in the world. “Coffee. And whatever’s got the most bacon”.

The waitress giggled—actually giggled—and nodded. “Got it. And for you?”, she asked, looking at Sam.

Sam cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “Uh, Coffee and Eggs”.

The waitress scribbled it down, then finally turned to you. “And you, sweetheart?”.

Sweetheart. You almost laughed at the irony. “Just coffee”, you muttered, not trusting yourself to say more.

The waitress nodded, giving Dean one last look before walking away.

Dean leaned back in the booth, stretching his arm over the backrest, exhaling like he had not a single care in the world.

Sam, on the other hand, looked pissed. His eyes flicked between you and Dean, his patience clearly wearing thin. But he didn’t say anything—not yet.

You? You just sat there, staring down in front of you, stomach churning.

When the food arrived, the waitress made sure to linger, setting Dean’s plate down with a little too much enthusiasm, her fingers just barely brushing against his arm. “Careful, handsome”, she teased, a playful smirk on her lips. “Wouldn’t want you to burn that pretty mouth of yours”.

Dean grinned, easy and effortless, the kind of smirk that used to be reserved just for you. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I can handle a little heat”.

Your grip on your coffee cup tightened.

Sam visibly tensed beside you, his eyes darting between the two of you, but he stayed quiet.

You just sat there, taking a slow sip of your coffee, staring at the swirling black liquid as if it could drown out the scene in front of you. Under the table, your fingers found the band of your wedding ring, twisting it absently with your thumb—a nervous habit, one you had picked up years ago.

You had done this on hunts, when things got tense. When Dean had been out too long, when a case went south, when you were afraid of losing him. And now, you were doing it because you had already lost him.

The waitress giggled, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she gave Dean one last look before walking away. Dean—your husband—watched her go.

The sting behind your eyes burned, but you blinked hard, forcing it down. You weren’t going to cry. Not here. Not in front of him.

Dean picked up his fork, completely unfazed, as if he hadn’t just flirted with another woman in front of the wife he had apparently erased from his life. “Damn, this smells good”.

Sam snapped. “You’ve gotta be kidding me”.

Dean looked up, brow raised. “What?”.

You took another slow sip of your coffee, the warmth doing nothing to ease the numbness settling deep in your bones. Your fingers twitched against the ceramic, a silent battle raging inside you. Then, without a word, you set the cup down, pushed back your chair, and stood.

Before Dean could react, your hand dipped into the pocket of his jeans—the same move you had pulled a hundred times before when you wanted to drive Baby, when you wanted to tease him, when you wanted his attention.

But this time, it wasn’t playful. This time, it was just survival.

You snatched the keys and muttered, “I’ll wait in the car”.

Dean blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, what?”.

You didn’t respond. Didn’t give him the satisfaction. Didn’t give yourself the chance to break right there in the middle of the damn diner. You just walked away.

Sam sighed and leaned back in his seat, rubbing a hand down his face as he watched you push through the door and disappear into the parking lot.

Dean, meanwhile, sat there, stunned for a second. Then he scoffed, shaking his head. “What the hell was that?”.

Sam shot him a look that could’ve burned through steel. “You’re an idiot”, he muttered, voice low but sharp.

Dean frowned, shifting in his seat. “Oh, come on, man—”.

“No”. Sam cut him off, leaning forward now, his anger barely contained. “You don’t get to do this, Dean. You don’t get to act like this is normal”.

Dean rolled his eyes. “I was eating, Sam. I was having a damn meal”.

“No, you were rubbing it in her face”, Sam snapped. “Flirting with some random waitress like she wasn’t even sitting right there”.

Dean clenched his jaw, his fingers tapping against the edge of his plate. “I didn’t mean—”.

“Didn’t mean to?”, Sam let out a humorless laugh. “Jesus, Dean. You chased her. You spent months convincing her to give you a shot. And now you’re treating her like she doesn’t exist”.

Dean’s grip on his fork tightened, his gaze flickering toward the window. He could just barely see the outline of Baby in the parking lot.

Sam exhaled, shaking his head. “She left everything for you. And you just let her walk away”.

Dean didn’t answer. Because he didn’t have one. And for the first time in days, something about that bothered him.

Steam curled in the small motel bathroom, clinging to the mirror and fogging up the glass. You had just stepped out of the shower, towel discarded as you reached for your underwear, exhausted from the long day of interviews and forced conversations. Your skin was still damp, beads of water rolling down your shoulders.

Just then, the door flew open.

Dean strode in without thinking, muttering something under his breath, fully intent on just using the damn bathroom before eating. His mind was still on the case, on the food in the bag he had dropped on the motel table—he hadn’t even remembered that you were in here.

Until now. Until he saw you.

Standing there, bare skin glistening under the dim motel light, hair wet and clinging to your shoulders, curves on full display—fuck.

Dean stopped in his tracks. His breath hitched, something deep in his chest clenching before he could even process what was happening. Damn it. He wasn’t supposed to react like this.

But hell, you were beautiful. No, not just beautiful. You were the hottest damn thing he’d ever seen. And it hit him like a punch to the gut.

You barely reacted. You simply sighed, pulling your underwear up with practiced ease, then reached for your shirt.

Dean had seen you naked a million times before. Even if he didn’t remember, you did. This wasn’t new. Wasn’t shocking. And honestly? You just didn’t have the energy to care. Your heart was too broken for something as trivial as embarrassment.

Dean, on the other hand was fucking hard in an instant.

It was like his body had short-circuited, completely ignoring whatever logical part of his brain had convinced him there was nothing left between you. Because right now, there was something. And it was undeniable.

Dean felt heat rush through him, pulse pounding in his ears as his jeans suddenly felt way too tight. He was still frozen in place, fingers twitching at his sides, brain struggling to catch up with what the fuck was happening.

You didn’t even spare him a second glance. Didn’t react. Didn’t blush. Didn’t tease him like you probably would have, back when things were good.

You just pulled your shirt over your head, moving around him like he wasn’t even there. And for some reason, that made it worse. Made it so much worse.

Dean swallowed hard, willing himself to look away, to breathe, but his gaze kept getting dragged back—dragged to the way your damp skin glowed under the shitty motel light, the way your muscles tensed ever so slightly as you moved.

His body remembered. Even if his mind didn’t. And that scared the shit out of him.

He exhaled sharply, finally forcing himself to turn around. “Fucking shit", he muttered under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a second.

You shot him a look in the mirror, completely unbothered. “What’s your problem?”.

Dean let out a humorless laugh, still not looking at you. “Oh, I dunno. Maybe the fact that you’re walking around naked like it’s nothing?”.

You raised a brow, pulling your jeans up, your expression unreadable. “It is nothing”.

He huffed, rubbing a hand over his jaw, trying to will his body to calm the fuck down. “Right. Yeah. Of course. No big deal”.

You let out a soft, almost bitter laugh as you grabbed your brush from the counter, dragging it through your wet hair. “Don’t worry, Dean”, you muttered. “I’m not expecting anything from you. Not anymore”.

That? That stung. More than it should have.

Dean finally glanced at you, something unreadable in his expression, but you were already walking past him, heading out the bathroom door like this conversation didn’t even matter. Like he didn’t matter.

And for the first time since this whole mess started… Dean wasn’t so sure he liked that feeling.

Dean followed you out of the bathroom, his steps quick, urgent. His dick wouldn’t stop throbbing. It was like his body had a mind of its own, like every nerve was on high alert, and fuck—he wasn’t used to this. Wasn’t used to being out of control when it came to himself.

And you just walked across the room like nothing had happened, completely unbothered, running a towel through your damp hair as you sat on the edge of the motel bed.

Dean exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “You can’t do this”, he muttered, voice tight.

You didn’t even look up. “Do what?”.

He scoffed, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “This. Making me—”. He cut himself off, jaw clenching. “Making me horny just to get me to feel something”.

That made you pause. Slowly, you turned to him, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “Excuse me?”.

Dean stared at you, like he expected you to admit it, to own up to it. Like this was your fault. But you just blinked, tilting your head slightly.

Then, after a beat, you let out a small, bitter laugh. “You walked in on me naked, Dean”.

His mouth opened, then shut. You had a point.

You crossed your arms, watching him, your expression unreadable. “I didn’t try to seduce you. I wasn’t parading around in lingerie, I wasn’t touching you, I wasn’t doing anything”. You let out a sharp exhale. “You came in, you looked, and now your body is reacting”.

Dean swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably, because shit—you were right. But that didn’t change the fact that his body was reacting. And it pissed him off. Because he shouldn’t be feeling like this. Shouldn’t be this fucking desperate to touch you, to feel you, when he didn’t even remember why. His hands curled into fists at his sides. “Then why the hell didn’t you care?”.

Your brows furrowed slightly. “What?”.

He took a step closer, jaw clenched. “You were naked. I walked in, and you didn’t even flinch”. His voice was rough, edged with something he didn’t quite understand.

You let out another quiet, humorless laugh, shaking your head as you ran the towel through your damp hair one last time before tossing it onto the bed beside you. “Shit, Dean”, you muttered, rubbing a hand over your face. “You’ve seen me naked a million times”.

Dean’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything.

“You used to wake me up in the middle of the night just because you needed me”, you continued, voice sharp but laced with something vulnerable. “You used to pin me against walls, drag me into the backseat of the Impala, couldn’t keep your hands off me for more than a damn second”.

Dean swallowed thickly. His body reacted again, a deep, primal pull in his gut at the images your words conjured, but his mind—his mind was still struggling. Still fighting against whatever this was.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “But now? You see me naked and act like it’s some huge deal?”.

Dean clenched his jaw, frustration rolling off him in waves. “It is a huge deal”, he shot back.

“No, it´s not".

He stared at you, mouth parting like he wanted to say something—anything—but nothing came.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @barnes70stark @roseblue373 @shanimallina87 @ascarriel @deanwinchesters67impala @thebiggerbear @quietgirll75 @barnes70stark @kellyls04 @spxideyver @ralilda @americanvenom13 @ozwriterchick @lmg14

[shoukokus]

Not that twins need it persay but I love the mental image of Yuu teaching Floyd and Jade self defense tactics from their world back home. Now they can be more effective menaces and they get some fun bonding time with the pc.

I LOVE THIS

jade leech/prefect/floyd leech

It all starts when you flip FLOYD LEECH over your shoulder. It was entirely a reflex, after he shouted from behind you in an attempt to scare you. I mean, it worked, but it activated your fight response

Everyone that was around you froze, silently saying their goodbyes to you, but to the shock of literally everyone, Floyd just laughed.

"Shrimpy!! I didn't know you were so strong! Do it again, do it again!"

You try to explain it isn't supposed to be a "fun" thing, it was a self defense mechanism, but he would NOT listen. You swear he has selective hearing

Soon enough, he brings his twin into it, and both are attempting to persuade you into teaching them how to do what you did

Floyd because obviously, it was fun, and Jade because he sees use out of learning such things. Both however, just like being around you. What a perfect excuse to be at your side :)

Eventually, you cave, because the twins usually get what they want.

You teach them every day (because we all know when they fixate on something, it's going to be daily until they lose interest) mostly in the backyard of Ramshackle

Giving them lessons just kind of consisted of you demonstrating techniques, and then them using it on each other. You could tell they've already... "defended" themselves before, but they seemed to enjoy doing this, so why not?

A few others like Ace and Epel showed up occasionally too, but when the tweels suggested they joined in, that stopped pretty quick

It goes on for a lot longer than you expected, even after you had taught what you could, they still just... showed up? When you asked them about it, they had this to say:

"Don't you wanna keep spending time with us, shrimpy? We just like hangin' out with you, you're so much fun to squeeze."

"You needn't mind us, prefect. You can simply go about your day. We're here simply to enjoy your presence."

[mwahs-stuff]

Omg ur bkg head imagine but make it him giving head for the first time 😵‍💫 im sure he’d be frustrated that he wasn’t getting it perfect but he’d eventually get there. Or even giving head to an inexperienced reader just to switch the roles up ;)

omg yes. i love this, he’d most definitely take his time to master it. i’ve been working on my writing style a lotttt, lmk if u like it<3

⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡

You and Katsuki had been dancing around the edge of something more for a while now. The heat between you had been building, slowly, shyly, but never quite boiling over. You were both a little hesitant, careful with each other in a way that made every brush of skin feel more intense than it probably should’ve.

Tonight was quiet. Just the two of you in his room, low lamplight casting soft shadows, a blanket wrapped around your legs as you sat on his bed. Katsuki had been unusually quiet, which wasn’t saying much, he was always more action than words, but this felt different. Focused.

He’d been watching you, eyes dark and unreadable, until he finally spoke.

“Hey,” he muttered, his voice low, uncertain. “Can I… try something?”

Your heart jumped a little, and you tucked your chin down, already blushing. “o-okay,” you said softly. “What kind of… something?”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking away for a second before turning those intense red eyes back to you. “I wanna go down on you.”

Your breath caught, your face going hot instantly. “Oh…”

“I haven’t done it before,” he added quickly, almost defensively, like he had to get that part out before you assumed he was some kind of expert. “But I wanna. Just… if you’re okay with it.”

You nodded before you could overthink it, biting your lip. “Y-Yeah. I’m okay with it… I mean, if you’re sure.”

He stepped closer, gently nudging you to lie back as he settled between your legs. You were nervous—nervous enough that your hands trembled slightly as you helped shimmy out of your shorts. Katsuki noticed. Of course he did.

“You good?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, more tender. His hand rested on your thigh, thumb brushing over your skin.

“I’m just… a little nervous,” you admitted, cheeks burning. “I’ve never really… had someone do this before either.”

He blinked. “Wait, really?”

You nodded, eyes flicking away. “Yeah.”

Something about that seemed to ground him. Like it made things more real. He leaned in, pressing a small kiss to your inner thigh, and your whole body tensed.

“I’ll go slow,” he murmured. “You just tell me what feels good. I wanna learn.”

You nodded again, your hands gripping the sheets.

Katsuki started hesitantly. His lips brushed over you, then his tongue followed, tentative at first—like he was exploring something sacred. It made your breath hitch immediately, your thighs instinctively trying to close around his head. He pressed his hands to them, holding you open, but not harshly. He wasn’t looking for control—he was just trying to stay close.

His tongue moved in slow, cautious strokes. Testing. Learning. Every few seconds he’d pause, eyes flicking up to your face, checking if your breathing changed or if your hips twitched. You were trying so hard not to make a sound, embarrassed by how quickly you were getting overwhelmed.

“Don’t hold back,” he said quietly, his voice muffled against your skin. “I need to know what’s working.”

You bit your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. “It… it feels good. I promise.”

But he could tell you were still holding back, and it frustrated him. Not with you, with himself.

“Tch… I dunno if I’m doing it right,” he growled under his breath. “I want you to feel good, not just say it.”

You looked down at him, heart aching a little at the furrow between his brows.

“You’re doing good, Katsuki,” you said, a little braver now. You reached down, gently brushing your fingers through his hair. “Just… right there. That part, when you move your tongue a little slower…”

He blinked up at you, then nodded like he was absorbing every word.

And when he did exactly what you asked, your breath hitched audibly, your hips jerking slightly beneath his touch. He groaned against you,like your reaction lit something up inside him, and started focusing all his attention right there. Repeating that motion, gradually building pressure and rhythm until you were gasping, your fingers tightening in his hair.

“Fuck, that’s it, huh?” he muttered, more to himself than to you, almost proud.

Your thighs trembled around his shoulders, and you felt the pleasure curl tight and hot in your stomach. You were overwhelmed and embarrassed and completely, helplessly undone.

When it finally hit you, you couldn’t stop the soft moan that left your lips, your hips twitching as you cried out his name. Katsuki didn’t stop until you were spent, breathing hard, your legs twitching from aftershocks.

He pulled back slowly, lips wet, face flushed, looking a little dazed.

You covered your face with your hands, too flustered to meet his eyes.

He let out a soft laugh. “Oi. Don’t hide from me.”

You peeked at him between your fingers, your cheeks burning. “S-sorry. That was just… a lot.”

He smirked, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Yeah? Good.”

Then, softer, more genuine: “You okay?”

You nodded, heart full and heavy with affection. “More than okay”

[pinkaditty]

Love Type (Tokyo Debunker Ghouls)

hey me again i said id be back quickly and i did mean that.

this will have been queued for an hour at least by the time u see it. rn as i type this im debating using the taglist. i think ill use it. sorry 4 so many tags in a day, i bet ur sick of me

anyways! i had this idea while i was writing the perv!sho x reader thing. i thought about the differences between the ghouls and how they all love differently. at first i wasn't gonna post this, but then my brain wouldn't stop thinking about it so now this exists. its not meant 2 be a useful organization tool 4 the ghouls it's just something i had a little bit of fun with.

note that not every single ghoul is going 2 match the category he was put in exactly. for example, ghouls like luca, yuri, romeo, and even haru could probably fit in more than one of these categories, but i put them in the ones i thought suited them best. wanna discuss? leave a comment or an ask! ill be happy 2 talk it through with u <3.

yes i DID put in hcs about how long they last sexually. no i do NOT regret it. im speaking my TRUTH!!!

The Lover Boys:

Haku, Haru, Sho, Luca, Zenji, Rui

do not last long but recover fast and can go multiple rounds 

prefer switching up their roles (dom→sub, sub→dom) more often 

they love like it's an incurable chronic terminal disease. it's never leaving them.

all-consuming, takes up most their time, they're drowning and falling and losing their minds 4 u

You like to tell yourself you're prepared, but is that ever really true? No, not really. The way his voice drops several octaves into a low purr just from seeing you should've been warning enough as to what you were in for. You didn't expect the all-consuming, suffocating love he'd trapped you in, but were you really complaining? As far as you were concerned, you were also convinced it was meant to be, and if he was a little crazy about it, that was a small price to pay. Of course, you eventually learn why he's crazy about it - he's never had it. The truest feeling of connection, the ability to just let it all go in one person's presence, the time to really feel another person. It's eluded him for so long, and now he has it, but it's threatened by a curse, something he cannot control. It's frightening, and though he tried not to, he ultimately buries you in his love, trying to find a way to make it last. It's okay though. As the threat wanes, so will his suffocation. The love will always be intense, but he will learn how to do it right. 

The Lost Boys:

Towa, Taiga, Jiro, Ed

they last so unbelievably long u don't know how they do it

love in more subtle ways bc 2 them, true love is quiet 

they will do loud and bold professions of it, but the real love is displayed quietly 

prefer 2 stick 2 one role (either dom or sub), not super flexible 

The occasional huge flower bouquet, expensive jewelry set, or new bag were thoughtful, but mostly just for show. He reveled in the attention, the jealous stares, the sucking of teeth, the eye rolls - all of it. Because he had you, not them. But that, of course, isn't all there is to it. While he may be relatively distant in public despite the extravagant gifts, he's rather sweet and attentive in private. He hides it better than a LoverBoy, but in truth, his heart bleeds just like theirs, and he feels the need to consistently strive to win your affections. You're amongst great people, after all. How can he make sure he stands out, all the time, just for you? You understand this, of course, and you're always quick to reassure him. He will give and give and give and give, in so many ways. You almost think he's bottomless, what with how much of himself he offers up, nearly all the time. But it's alright. He will learn to remind himself that he need not give himself away to bits simply to keep your attention, especially when he's already the apple of your eye. The gifts never stop though, and neither does his obvious enjoyment in the attention it gets you. He will never stop showing you off.

The Tragic Boys:

Leo, Subaru, Ren, Kaito, Yuri

love fluctuates. intense then quiet, hot then cold, all-consuming then insignificant 

very transparent ghouls with few layers. what u see is what u get.

often don't last long and take longer to recover 

a little more flexible with role changing, but do have solid preferences 

You are never, ever prepared. He's like a pendulum, swaying back and forth between endless, bountiful devotion and a cold shoulder the following day. He's not sure how to handle this love he has for you. It's unfamiliar, it's big, it's loud, it's petrifying. He's scared he'll do something wrong, and on those days when the fear eats him alive, he closes up, rejecting your presence. But then, he sees how down you are, and knows that wasn't right, so the following day he's at your beck and call. He'll do whatever you ask, just say the word and it's done, for you. His fatal flaw is that he never communicates his deep-seated fears, instead choosing to let them rumble in his gut and disrupt your relationship as a consequence. He wants you, though, and he never wants you to doubt that. He'll communicate eventually, the words spilling out before he can think much of them, apologies and desperate sobs with them. He won't shut down anymore after this, choosing to remain like an open book for you to read at any time. He will learn to hold you the right way, without clamming up nervously when you tell him he's perfect. 

The Silent Boys: 

Tohma, Romeo, Ritsu, Lyca, Alan, Jin

their love is consistent 

never changes, always with immense depth, but never readily apparent 

love is like a pretty serene waterfall with unseen strong currents capable of killing someone 

like to switch it up every now and again (mayyybe dom→sub, sub→dom yk)

last moderately. some might finish fast, some might take a while.

His attitude and demeanor towards you hardly change. He loves you, and he's serious about it, but that won't mean special treatment, extra gifts, or public displays of love. He will love you exactly as he always has, and sees nothing wrong with it. His love is in how he looks out for you, how he worries for you despite himself, how he may allow himself a small smile when you approach, or a sigh heavy laden with devotion, after you wrap your arms around him, and before he pushes you off of him. It's okay because you know how his heart beats erratically in his chest when you approach, which he's strangely good at hiding. You know how his breath hitches in his throat every time he sees you, his eyes glazing over like you're a vision to be committed to memory. You know how he treasures you, his love hidden under his vast sea of responsibilities. Peel the layers back and you'll see he's yours in all ways that matter, but he also knows he can't let that get in the way of his daily life. Once he has the time, and is no longer bearing the weight of prying eyes and overwhelming expectations, he'll build his life around you, to make sure you feel centered in his life, as he does in yours.

well if nobody really likes these at least i had fun. amen!

no blurb 2 put here except that i have a ren fic incoming soon bc my regular [🐟] anon went crazy in my inbox about that boy and his damn collarbones.

y'all have a wonderful day im so tired.

taglist: @cupcakesmoothie @aayakashii @sunskosh @despairingy-obsessed @glamorousspoon @mmy-meow @dailyvahine @diluxama @obscuarysghoulnextdoor @disassociationdive

want 2 join or be removed from the tkdb taglist? let me know!

[bratzkoo]

WGM episode 1 | dk

episode 1: the first date

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: seokmin x reader Genre: fluff Rating: PG-13 Word count: 1.6k~ Warnings/note: fluff, fake marriage, and real feelings. cursing, seokmin curses a lot in his head.

summary: WE GOT MARRIED is back. Seokmin and Y/N pairs up to shoot 10 episodes for a special. Turns out, there are more things happenings off-camera than what meets the eye.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @ateez-atiny380 , @aeerio . @vernons-wifey12 , @odevote118

requests are close, but you can just say hi! | masterlist series masterlist | previous episode | next episode

Seokmin arrived at the baseball stadium thirty minutes early, because of course he did. What else was he supposed to do? Show up on time like a normal, non-desperate person? Ha!

He paced outside the main entrance, checking his reflection in his phone camera every forty-five seconds. Is this jersey too much? Not enough? Should I have worn the home team colors instead? Why didn't I consult Minghao about this?

His phone kept buzzing with texts from the members, who had apparently formed a task force dedicated solely to his dating life:

Hoshi: FIGHTING!!! Remember everything I told you about baseball metaphors!!  

Jeonghan: If you don't hold her hand at least once, you're sleeping in the practice room for a week  

Joshua: Just be yourself. But maybe 20% less loud.  

Mingyu: I bet Wonwoo 50,000 won that you'll spill something on yourself within the first hour  

Vernon: Just breathe, hyung  

Seungkwan: I PREPARED A SONG LIST FOR ROMANTIC MOMENTS PLEASE CHECK YOUR EMAIL

Seokmin was about to text back a series of increasingly panicked emojis when he spotted her walking toward the entrance.

Oh.  

Oh no.  

She looks PRETTY pretty.

Y/N was wearing a white sundress with a denim jacket and sneakers, her hair slightly tousled by the spring breeze. Seokmin's brain immediately emptied of all thoughts except one: If I mess this up, I will never forgive myself.

He shoved his phone in his pocket, completely forgetting his members' existence. The cameras were following at a discreet distance, but for once, he wasn't thinking about them.

"Hi," he managed, desperately trying to remember how normal humans greet each other. "You look nice."

Nice? NICE? That's the best you can do? She looks like a literal angel descended from heaven to grace this sweaty baseball stadium with her presence, and you said NICE?

Y/N tucked her hair behind her ear in that way that made his heart do a weird flippy thing. "Thanks. Is this okay for baseball? I wasn't sure what to wear."

"It's perfect," he said too quickly, then remembered the gift. "Oh! I got you something."

He pulled out the team cap he'd spent forty-five minutes selecting last night, trying to find one that would look cute on her without being too small or too big or too anything. "Every fan needs one."

"Does that make us officially a couple? Matching hats?" She took it with a smile that Seokmin felt in his soul.

"That's the first step," he confirmed, slipping into his performer persona because it was either that or spontaneously combust. "Next would be matching phone cases, then matching hoodies, and eventually matching gravestones."

She laughed, and the sound made Seokmin mentally high-five himself. YOU MADE HER LAUGH. POINT FOR TEAM SEOKMIN.

"Quite the commitment trajectory," she said.

"I don't make the rules of Korean couples culture," he shrugged, feeling a tiny bit more like himself. "I just follow them religiously."

She put the cap on, adjusting it slightly. "How do I look?"

Like everything I didn't know I wanted. Like the answer to a question I hadn't thought to ask. Like someone I'm going to embarrass myself over repeatedly for the next ten episodes.

"Very sporty," he said instead, the understatement of the century. "Ready to learn about America's favorite pastime?"

"I thought that was complaining on Twitter."

Seokmin burst out laughing, genuine and unfiltered. Is she always this witty? How am I supposed to survive this?

"Second favorite, then," he managed.

---

Inside the stadium, Seokmin's chaotic energy went into overdrive. The camera crew was setting up around them, but all he could focus on was how close they were sitting. Their elbows could touch. That's practically third base, right? WAIT, BAD BASEBALL METAPHOR. Erase that thought immediately.

"So, rule number one," he began, desperate to seem knowledgeable about something, anything, "you have to eat stadium food. It's mandatory."

"Is that an official baseball rule or a Seokmin rule?" Y/N asked, eyes twinkling in a way that made his stomach do gymnastics.

"Both," he declared, committing fully to the bit. "It's in the official rulebook: 'All spectators must consume their body weight in overpriced food to maintain the economic ecosystem of professional sports.'"

"Well, we can't break the rules on our first date," she agreed solemnly.

First date. She called it a date. IT'S JUST FOR THE SHOW, SEOKMIN. GET A GRIP.

He signaled to a vendor with perhaps too much enthusiasm. "Two of everything, please."

"I was joking!" Y/N protested, laughing.

"I wasn't," he insisted. "You need the full experience."

Soon their seats were surrounded by enough food to feed the entire team. The camera zoomed in on the spread, then on Y/N's wide eyes.

"This is ridiculous," she said, but she was smiling.

"Welcome to marriage," Seokmin replied, handing her a hotdog and trying not to think about how their fingers brushed. "Sharing calories is the foundation of any good relationship."

When she took a bite and a tiny bit of ketchup appeared at the corner of her mouth, Seokmin experienced what could only be described as a gay panic, except heterosexual. He fumbled for a napkin so violently he knocked over his soda, barely catching it before it spilled everywhere.

Great. Now Mingyu was 50,000 won richer.

---

As the game began, Seokmin tried to explain the rules while simultaneously:

1. Not staring at Y/N too much

2. Not sounding like a know-it-all

3. Not accidentally touching her

4. Not spilling anything else

5. Remembering how baseball works

It was a lot.

"So the pitcher throws the ball, and the batter tries to hit it," he explained, pointing to the field. "If they hit it, they run to the bases—first, second, third, and home."

"Like a relationship," Y/N observed. "You go through different stages before coming home."

Seokmin nearly choked on his pretzel. Is she flirting? Is this what flirting feels like? I'm dying.

"Exactly," he wheezed. "Baseball is just a metaphor for love. That's why they call it America's pastime."

"What's a strike then?" she asked, leaning slightly closer to hear over the crowd noise.

THE PROXIMITY. HANDLE THE PROXIMITY.

"When you say something stupid and your partner gives you that look," he replied automatically, pantomiming a withering glare.

Y/N laughed again, and Seokmin felt like he'd just hit a home run.

The first few innings passed with Seokmin gradually relaxing, falling into an easy rhythm of explanation and banter. He was just starting to feel confident when the stadium's giant screen suddenly displayed a heart-shaped frame with "KISS CAM" blaring across the top.

And there they were, in high-definition glory.

Oh god oh god oh god oh god.

Y/N looked equally startled, her eyes wide as the crowd began to cheer.

"We don't have to—" Seokmin started to say, but the noise was too loud. His brain short-circuited completely, all systems failing simultaneously.

In a moment of pure panic, he yanked off his own baseball cap and placed it over his face, then leaned toward her with his face completely covered.

The crowd roared with laughter. When he peeked out from behind the cap, Y/N was doubled over, shoulders shaking with mirth.

"That," she gasped between laughs, "was the smoothest avoidance maneuver I've ever seen."

"I panicked," he admitted, ears burning hot enough to power a small city.

"It was perfect," she assured him, placing a hand briefly on his arm.

PHYSICAL CONTACT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. REMAIN CALM.

His phone buzzed. Thirty new messages, all variations of keyboard smashing from the members who were undoubtedly watching the live game broadcast.

---

By the seventh-inning stretch, Seokmin had:

1. Explained the entire history of Korean baseball

2. Told three embarrassing stories about himself unprompted

3. Memorized the exact sound of Y/N's laugh

4. Developed seven new heart palpitations

5. Caught himself staring no fewer than twelve times

6. Not spilled anything else (A MIRACLE)

During the crowd wave, their hands accidentally brushed, and Seokmin felt it like an electric shock. When Y/N didn't pull away immediately, he wondered if she felt it too.

Don't read into it. It's for the cameras. It's for the show. It doesn't mean anything.

But when the home team hit a home run and everyone jumped to their feet cheering, Y/N impulsively hugged him in celebration, and for just a moment, with her arms around him and the roar of the crowd surrounding them, Seokmin forgot about the cameras completely.

---

As they walked out of the stadium after the game, Y/N still wearing the cap he'd given her, Seokmin gathered his courage.

"Did you have fun? Even though we lost?"

"Are you kidding? It was the most fun I've had in ages," she said, and he desperately wanted to believe it wasn't just for the show.

"So, for our next... episode," he began carefully, "would you be up for something I plan? Since Hoshi picked this one."

"I'd like that," she said, smiling that smile again. "Surprise me."

The production director called a wrap for the day, and the cameras finally turned off. There was a moment of awkward silence as reality reasserted itself.

"Can I walk you to your car?" Seokmin offered.

"Sure," Y/N said, falling into step beside him.

As they walked, Seokmin quietly slipped the game ticket stub into his pocket. A souvenir of something that wasn't real, but felt like it could be.

Later that night, after enduring an hour of teasing from the members about his kiss cam panic, he received a text:

Y/N: Thanks for today. I actually had a great time. You're a good teacher. :)

Seokmin smiled at his phone like an idiot for a full minute before replying:

Seokmin: Anytime. Looking forward to our next "date." Sleep well, fake wife.

As he set his phone down, he tried not to think about how much he was looking forward to episode two. Or how the word "fake" was already starting to feel like a lie.

[mintyys-blog]

I see that the request are closed but when they reopen you can make a "Variants x Dante reader" I LOVE YOUR FANFICS SO MUCH BTW I'M STARTING TO WRITE BECAUSE I ADMIRE YOU SO MUCH RAHH 😭😭😭🍨🍨

DANTE | variants x dante! reader

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST

Sinister Mark x Dante!Reader

• You don’t fear him, and that drives him insane. Everyone else bows. You crack a joke about his cape.

• “I could slice through a planet,” he growls.

“Cool story. Wanna see me juggle demon heads?”

• He tries intimidating you. You flirt. He threatens. You mock. He kisses you like he’s trying to conquer you—and you bite his lip just to prove you can’t be tamed.

• He respects your strength, but it’s your audacity that keeps him obsessed.

Mohawk Mark x Dante!Reader

• He’s impulsive and rough around the edges. You feed off the chaos.

• You both show up to fights late because you were busy gambling, drinking, or bickering over who gets to kill the boss demon.

• “This guy’s mine,” he says.

“Too slow, babe,” you reply, already mid-swing with Rebellion.

• After missions, he picks pieces of demon gunk off your coat with a twisted sort of affection. “You’re disgusting,” he says, but he’s grinning.

Viltrumite Mark x Dante!Reader

• He calls you reckless. You call him uptight. You both flirt through violence.

• Training turns into sparring turns into… let’s just say the battlefield gets heated.

• “You think you can stop me?”

“Stop you? I’m here to outdo you.”

• He may be faster and stronger, but your unpredictability keeps him on his toes—and lowkey in love.

Full Mask Mark x Dante!Reader

• He never speaks. You never shut up.

• You talk at him constantly. “So, do you brood for fun or is that mask hiding something sexy?”

• You thought he was a robot at first. Tried poking his mask with Ebony & Ivory. He didn’t flinch. You were impressed.

• He eventually gives you small gestures—tilted head, subtle nods, hand on your shoulder after a mission—and you start realizing there’s something kind behind the cold exterior.

• You tease, “You’re my silent protector, huh?” And he just shrugs…but stays close.

Maskless Mark x Dante!Reader

• He’s jaded, a bit broken, but you bring chaos that feels like freedom. You remind him there’s still something to fight for.

• You see the cracks in him and crack jokes instead of pity. That makes him respect you.

• He doesn’t stop you from charging head-first into danger, but he always has your back.

• You once sliced a demon in two just to make him laugh. He didn’t—but you felt the smile.

Prisoner Mark x Dante!Reader

• You visit him in his Viltrumite cell like it’s a date. “You miss me, handsome?” you grin, boots up on the forcefield.

• He’s got chains. You’ve got jokes and your sword.

• He doesn’t trust anyone—except you. Because you never ask for anything. You just are.

• When things break bad, he tells you to run. You reply, “I don’t run. I ride.”

• You break him out in a bloodbath, humming a rock song as you go. “Freedom looks good on you.”

No Goggles Mark x Dante!Reader

• He’s drawn to your confidence but worries about how easily you kill.

• “You enjoy it,” he says. You smirk. “Only when they deserve it.”

• He tries to pull you toward the light. You try to get him to dance in the dark.

• Your banter is endless. Your chemistry is electric. And the push-pull tension is delicious.

• Over time, you open up just enough. He learns that beneath the devil-may-care exterior is someone who does care. Just… in your own way.

Shiesty Mark x Dante!Reader

• He scams, steals, and slaughters. You style on your enemies with dramatic flair and love pissing off the powerful.

• You met during a hit gone wrong—he was there to rob a gang, you were there to kill a demon they summoned. Instant chaos, instant chemistry.

• “You kill for kicks,” he laughs.

“And you rob corpses. We’re a match made in hell.”

• You keep him on his toes with your unpredictability. He keeps you guessing with his lies.

• Dates are just heists with flirting. You blow up the vault while he shoots you finger guns. He might betray you someday—but you’d probably enjoy the fight.

Omni Mark x Dante!Reader

• He’s controlling, cold, and calculating. You’re wild, taunting, and walk into danger like it’s a party.

• He tries to lecture you. “You’re reckless and undisciplined.”

“You’re boring and constipated. Let’s fight about it.”

• You infuriate him. The fact you don’t fear him? That you laugh in his face? That you land hits in a spar? It kills him… and turns him on.

• He starts viewing you like a wildfire—dangerous, beautiful, untamable.

• Eventually, he stops trying to make you kneel—and starts wondering what it’d be like to burn beside you.

[killerplink]

Omg fratboy!Dick Grayson 🥰🥰🥰

What’s do you think about fratboy!Dick with soror!reader where they both meet at a party and knowing each other’s reputations they agree to a night together on the condition that it is going to be super casual, with no feelings… but the night was too good so they keep coming back but only on the condition that each follow-up get together can happen because there are no feelings!

But of course these two idiots are catching feelings!!! So eventually they know one of them has to say something but the fear of the other disappearing is too real so they keep not saying anything until maybe one of them gets hit on at a party and the other gets super jealous and that’s when they both realize that their relationship is so not casual.

STOP THIS IS SO FUNNY BC LIKE—Dick Grayson, not catch feelings??? THE Dick Grayson?? he probably fell in love the second she laughed at one of his dumb jokes. he's just walking around in denial with a stupid little heart eyed grin like "nah bro we're chill, totally casual". an absolute menace. actually, both of them are but I love them sm 😭

and you know he's texting her "u up?" at 1am but also saving her contact with a little heart next to her name. meanwhile, reader's pretending it's all just good fun while secretly wearing his hoodie and sniffing it like a lovesick gremlin. they're both clowns!!! hot, delusional clowns, bestie 🙂‍↕️

and YESSS exactly, he's absolutely the type to be all "no feelings, we're just having fun" (lying bastard) and then turn into a full on grumpy, pouty menace the second he sees someone else trying to make her laugh at a party.

he's standing across the room, arms crossed, jaw clenched, drink in hand that he's not even sipping anymore, and when you glance at him, he looks away like a brat.

"oh, so you're flirting with him now? that's crazy. no, I'm not mad. I'm just saying, I didn't know we were that casual."

and then he suddenly remembers he's RICHARD JOHN GRAYSON and the man has no chill, so five minutes later he's at your side like "you wanna get out of here?" except it's not a question, it's a territorial claim 🙂‍↕️

reader's like: "you said we were just hooking up"

Dick: "yeah, well, I lied. sue me"

[justwinginglife]

Could you please tell what happens in the hoshina episode? I don't care about spoilers, I just wanna know what happens

YES ABSOLUTELY OMG! It would be my pleasure 😂 for anyone else reading this, if you don’t want spoilers, keep scrolling. And for anyone else who watched it, please feel free to chime in with what I missed cuz my memory is horrible.

So basically it starts off with most of the main cast getting the day off at the same time. Ichikawa finds himself accidentally training and he’s like omg why am I training on my day off? So then Hoshina starts cracking up cuz he’s like omg you really don’t know how to have a day off, do you? I’ll show you how to party one of these days. Then he says he has plans though and walks away mysteriously.

Iharu and Ichikawa start making bets on what the Vice Captain is doing on his day off, Iharu thinks it has something to do with a lady and Ichikawa disagrees. So of course they decide to trail him on his day off.

First- Hoshina goes to the supermarket to get Ashiro a rare snack. Then he runs into Shinomiya and her friends waiting for a ride and he volunteers to drive them to their restaurant. After that, he runs into Aoi and Haruichi debating things for a camping trip and gives them advice on buying things for sale. He is also seen petting cats, and helping an old lady cross the street. All the while, Iharu and Ichikawa are following him still.

Then they see him in a parking lot, secretively handing off suitcases to a suspicious looking man and by then, the whole gang (Shinomiya and the girls, Aoi, and Haruichi) has all gathered to figure out what Hoshina was doing in the parking lot. While they’re arguing, Hoshina disappears.

They panic because they can’t find him.

Eventually he appears behind them and says with a devious look on his face something along the lines of “Well now that you saw the exchange you’re in this too.” So he takes them with him.

Turns out he was giving away his old suits and swords to a museum where kids can play and learn about the defense force, and since the gang was all butting into his business, Hoshina makes them play with all the kids too. And trust me, Hoshina playing with kids was fucking ADORABLE.

Anyway, eventually a Kaiju attacks nearby and the kids are crying and freaking out and Hoshina comforts him like the perfect man that he is and he sets off to go take care of the Kaiju.

The gang tease him for being a workaholic cuz he had his suit underneath his clothes, but they all go with him to take on the Kaiju.

I think that’s pretty much the whole thing summed up quickly! But yeah, I very much enjoyed it. Hoshina is basically ridiculously wholesome and adorable the entire time.

[rensaries]

જ⁀➴ one look give 'em whiplash ~ na jaemin smau

chapter 16: miffy pancakes

once you and jaemin were done with your pancakes, he cleaned up the dishes while you moved over to the couch. before you could even sit down, one of his cats started roaming towards you and jumping up in your lap once you finally sat down.

you felt awkward sitting in the silence of his dorm, aside from the noises of the plates from his cleaning up. the atmosphere wasn't uncomfortable; you were actually a lot more comfortable than usual. but something about being in an only recently familiar place with someone you hadn't spent that much time with made your stomach turn. especially after the recent events with yeojin and yangyang. for a moment, you thought to yourself and questioned why you were letting yourself get this comfortable around someone like this right after you nearly died from naively trusting two idiots.

your thoughts are interrupted when jaemin finally takes a seat on the couch. you feel the need to say something to prevent the awkard silence from continuing.

"thank you again for the pancakes," you say as you shoot him a small smile.

"of course, i felt like i needed to do something nice especially after being hungover." by the look on his face you can tell he's relieved that the pancakes were a hit, you assumed he put a lot of effort into not messing the whole thing up.

"oh, and also, thank you for looking after me last night. i'm sure you can tell it's kind of hard for me to easily trust people." you cringed at the reminder of your situation with yangyang.

"no problem, i'm glad you can trust me, makes me feel special!" the boy giggles at his own comment, and you roll your eyes in responce. for a moment, you get distracted again by his looks, but you quickly come back to reality when you notice the expression on his face changes. you can tell he's curious about something but hesitant to actually say anything.

"you're gonna ask me what happened, aren't you?" at this point, you had expected people to either know every detail about your "lore" or that people would be overly curious and just scared to say anything knowing it's a sensitive topic. you weren't offended by the boy's curiosity, if that's what he was thinking of. again, you expect it by now for people to be curious, and you can tell he probably hasn't heard the scoop yet.

"i didn't wanna be the one to say anything," he lets out an awkard laugh, you can tell he regrets even thought about it. "you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"no, it's okay, i've lived it and told it enough times that it doesn't really bother me to talk about it," and you mean it. one thing that helped you to cope with everything in the first place was to talk about it with your friends. it helped you process everything better and get your feelings out so that it wasn't all weighing on you at once. and as much as it affected you, you didn't really have much of a choice to get used to talking about it.

"where do i even start," you pretend to think hard as you tap you finger on your chin. "it wasn't even two months into the first semester of my freshman year when some random guy asked me out, and when i rejected him he told me i'd 'pay for it'. the next day i couldn't even step foot outside my dorm without people i've never spoken to staring at me like i had a target on my forehead. turns out that guy told his friends that i 'gave good head', which then his friends told their friends and it spread faster than any professer can grade work," it's been awhile since you've explained the entire situation to someone, and you're a lot more emotional than you thought you'd be.

"quickly, it turned into random guys coming up to me and trying to get my number, hitting on me, asking me out, and eventually it escalated so bad to the point that i was scared to even leave my dorm. i couldn't go to parties anymore without the fear that some guy would come up to me and try to make a move. there were a few guys who went as far as to borderline stalk me, following me to my dorm and harassing me. and to top it all off there were a few times where they, well, basically groped me."

the boy stared at you with his mouth agape; this also wasn't an unusual response to you sharing this information. you found it kind of funny, he looked cute, and you knew he meant well.

"i seriously have no idea what to say, that's horrible." his expression didn't change much, maybe a little more shocked than he just was.

"it is what it is. i'm just lucky most of the rumors died down by the next year."

you can see him still trying to process everything you just told him, not knowing exactly how to respond or what to think. you're just glad that you got it all off your chest to someone new, you don't think anyone but sakura understands how difficult it is for you to open up to new people.

note ʚɞ holy yap... idk where this came from but i just wanted to write again so hopefully this isn't buns and is actually enjoyable 💔 also yes i used grammarly don't come for me i was anxious about having any mistakes when i posted so i had to use my last resort

» next » masterlist

taglist : @urlocalbeaner5 @222brainrot @multifandomania @iamsimplyasimp @joonsprettygf @kukkurookkoo @cherry-rosess @i-kai @mmjhh1998 @kaosuni @f6llsun @sibwol @sunghoonsgfreal @4yunogf @dilflover44 @ssweetreveries @neocitytime127 @kyubing @yuyita-rosier @dudekiss3r @t-102 @meltinghershey @fairyoflia (comment or dm to be added to the taglist!)

©️rensaries │ please do not copy my work

[circumscribitwrites]

Be Your Own Man

Evan messaged me five minutes after our first date.

We weren't meant for each other, he said, but we should stay friends.

Well, okay then. That worked for me. Evan was cute and nice. That was about it. Maybe he had something resembling intelligence. But on the surface, he was...a little air-headed. Actually, a lot air-headed.

"I don't get why all these guys think I'm some stupid twink!" He said, waving a dangerously over-filled mimosa in his hand. 

We were at brunch. Evan was bemoaning the failures of his latest romantic partner. Did he talk about me like that?

"I mean, oh my god, it's like...I think about so much stuff! What I'm gonna wear, what pics I'm gonna send. I think so much."

"Uh huh," I said, cutting a slice of my avocado toast. "What...pics...do you send?" I never got any pics.

"Oh, I'll show you!" He pulled his phone out, scrolled through his photos, and handed it to me: 

"Evan," I said. "I'm beginning to see a connection..."

"What do you mean?" He leaned closer.

"You don't want guys to think you're a 'stupid twink,' right?"

"Hey!"

"Your words, not mine!"

He pouted, swirling his drink. "I guess not...I feel like guys don't take me seriously. As a guy, I mean. I don't know how to explain it."

"You want to be called handsome? Not cute?"

Evan nodded. "Yeah, I guess...It's kinda like, I'm not a girl? I know what I look like, and how I talk, but, like, I'm still a man! This last guy wanted me to wear this whole outfit...call him 'Daddy.' Yuck."

"So?"

"So what?"

"What are you going to do about it? Because that," I tapped his phone, "isn't going to help."

He sighed. "I know, I know..."

"Try the internet? You never know what you can find."

Evan was pretty quiet after that. We didn't text or talk for the next few weeks, didn't make plans or meet up. I figured he was mad at me - or mad at himself. 

Eventually, I got a message from his number:

"sup"

I waited a few minutes before texting back. "Hey! Everything good? I missed hanging out with you!"

"yeah man u 2. im just chillin lol. i feel fuckin awsum rn."

I paused, my fingers hovering over my phone.

That didn't sound like Evan.

"What've you been up to?"

"not much ig. liftin big, eatin big, gettin big. im so fuckin thic now. went up another size this week, so makin progress. my beards comin in 2."

"Oh, well, I'm happy for you!" I think? What was going on?

"thx, bro. i did wut u said. gotta lotta help, videos and forums n shit. feels so good bein a man. u wanna see?"

"Uh, sure?"

"k ;)"

Was that Evan?

He was standing in his bathroom, a pair of black shorts barely clinging to his waist. His face was familiar - but heavier. A dark beard covered his thick jaw. His tongue was out, a dumb look in his eyes. The beginnings of a six-pack were covered in a firm layer of fat. Hair dusted his meaty pecs and ran along his sweaty arms...

"Wow."

"yeah, haha. u wanna come over? i wanna say thx."

Well, looks like I got my pic after all.

Like the story? Want to support me? Check out my Ko-fi!

[curly-fry-3]

I don't wanna overwhelm you since you probably have like other req to finish but after I saw the post with Gabriel I had an idea (°□°) ☝️

So basically in season 3 where Dean dies over and over again, surprisingly Dean's daughter, reader doesn't but she also isn't in the time loop stuck with Sam so at the end he asks and turns out Gabriel just likes her better (and also that she isn't gonna die like dean at the end anyways). So then when Dean died and Sam left with Ruby, leaving her alone (tho Sam probably thought that she went to Bobby and he didn't want to take her with him since just like Dean she was against the whole Ruby thing). She had no one... for like 5 hours when she heard from random people that something crazy happened to them. So she goes to look for Gabriel cause what most people described were things a trickster would do. She eventually finds him and confronts him and they start talking giving each other comfort cause right now they both have some sorta family issues (tho he doesn't say he's the Archangel Gabriel just kinda says his name is Gabriel) and they kinda have this 'uncle who buy his niece a gun to birthday' relationship.

𖦹Gabriel's Favorite𖦹

summary𖦹 When the worst thing that could happen, happens, Gabriel will be there to shit talk with you

pairing𖦹 Archangel Gabriel x Reader (platonic)

word count𖦹 1,667

notes𖦹 this idea was so cool but I dont feel like what I wrote is the best cause ive never written for Gabe before (I low-key made him such a diva) Also it has kinda a lot of build up to the actual conversation sorry I hope you like it though

Another Tuesday. Another Tuesday of Sam waking up to you and Dean humming along to Aisa while getting ready for the day like nothing was wrong. Dean has already died about a hundred times, with you and Sam both as witnesses, yet Sam seems to be the only one affected. He was tired and confused. He had just watched you sobbing over your father's dead body, and now you two are brushing your teeth while choosing where to eat for breakfast.

After trying to explain his situation and being met with poorly hidden judgy faces, Sam follows you and his brother into the diner you choose. He cautiously walks in, scanning the room for anybody who looks out of place. You're chatting to Dean excitedly about some show you're watching as you all sit down in a booth. When your rambling dies down,your dad notices Sam’s unease and silence. 

Dean turns to his brother and grabs his attention “Why are you on edge? It's not like anything is gonna happen”

Sam tenses his jaw and gives Dean a bitch face “Something always happens. Whether you choke on your food or you slip and crack your head open on the way to the bathroom, you always die”

Dean dismisses his concern “Nothing is gonna happen. I'm a big boy, I can chew my food and walk without falling”

Sam rolls his eyes and turns toward the other people in the restaurant, eyes searching for odd behavior. You look over at your dad in confusion then look over at Uncle Sammy, brows furrowing in concern “If my dad has died so many times, how come I don't remember it? I should be in the time loop too”

Sam focuses back onto you “I don't know. I have no idea what's going on or how to stop it, I just don't wanna watch Dean die again–or have to watch you watch him die”

There is an awkward silence, Dean sighs to fill the space then tries to lighten the mood. “If I'm gonna die today, it's not gonna be on an empty stomach, let's get something to eat”

You nod before looking down at the menu “Look, Dad, Pig n’ a Poke”

He looks at where you're pointing and hums out in satisfaction “That sounds amazing” He turns to Sam, trying to include him in the conversation “Sammy doesn't that sound amazing? I getting it”

You close up your menu “Me too”

Dean kicks Sam under the table “What are you getting”

“Nothing. You know, watching you die over and over kinda ruined my appetite” He recipes with as much sass as possible.

Your meal passes without any hiccups and You exit the diner and barely make it down the street before Dean is mauled by a dog. You watch in horror as his body lies lifeless on the sidewalk. You sob as you hold him, looking up at Sammy. Suddenly Sam sits up in bed, Aisa playing on the radio–another Tuesday.

  He has to live through a couple more Tuesdays till he finally spots what he was searching for in the diner. Everyone eats and does the same thing every day, except one man. This man would always have pancakes, but today he ordered a different kind of syrup. 

Sam waited until the man walked out of the diner and quietly followed him, You and Dean not far behind. He corners the man in the alley and holds a stake up to his neck. Dean reflexively puts an arm out in front of you and puts you behind him. 

Sam grips the lapel of the man's shirt “I know it's you. You're the reason I keep living through Tuesday, watching him die again and again. I know you're a trickster, we've killed one before. One thing I don't know is why. Why are you doing this and why isn't she affected”

Suddenly, the man's face shifts into the face of the trickster Sam was referring to “You two chuckle heads didn't kill me. I've gotta say, it's been quite fun killing Dean every day, but I didn't do this to hurt him, it's all for you. I'm trying to tell you, Sam, you can't save your brother. As for why she's not involved, I like her. She's not an asshole like you two.”

Sam grinds his teeth and digs the wooden stake farther into the trickster's neck “bullshit, I can save him. All I have to do is kill you for real, and this is all over”

The man puts his hands up in defense “Woah, we don't need to go that far. You found me, the joke is over” 

He snapped his fingers and Sam woke up in the motel again, but this time the radio played a different song “It's not Aisa”

Dean makes room for you to spit out your toothpaste in the sink “Yeah I know, this station sucks”

A large smile never left Sam's face as he got up and ready for the day. The smile vanished when he sent Dean and you to go put your bags in the car. He was finishing up in the room when he heard a gunshot and a scream from the parking lot. He rushes outside and finds you cradling Dean's lifeless body. You look up at Sam as he approaches with tears and snot running down your face.

After that day, things had really changed. Your dad was gone and Sammy was different. You thought you could mourn with him but he was just so disconnected. It didn't take long for him to ditch you, saying that it was important and too dangerous for you to come with him. You knew what that meant, you knew he was going to Ruby. You know he thought you were going to go to Bobby, that you would be taken care of, but you just couldn't. You couldn't live in that house, it reminded you too much of your dad.

You had just started wondering, looking for something, a sign or anything, that would tell you what to do next. It didn't take long because, a couple hours later, you heard people talking of the most insane thing happening to them. You knew that it had to be the trickster, you could feel it in your gut. You used the skills your dad had taught you to find him. Although you had been searching for him, You were only able to meet him again by complete accident–running into him on the street. 

You were minding your own business while you were walking till, by the grace of god, you made eye contact with the trickster. You pause, making sure it's really him, before quickly approaching him. He looks a little shocked to see you,but not unhappy “Hey kid, what are you doing by yourself”

You look down at your feet before looking back at him “Dad’s dead, Sam left”

He awkwardly pauses for a sec then mutters under his breath “Oh, shit” He puts one arm around your shoulder and starts leading you towards an apartment. “Is it ok if you stay with me”

You nod “Yeah, I mean, who else would I stay with”

He keeps his arm around you until you make it to the front door and he unlocks it with both arms, motioning for you to go inside “Make yourself at home. I got food in the fridge, an extra bed, and there's a dog here somewhere. If you need or want anything, just tell me–I have my ways of getting shit. If you wanna talk, I'm available anytime I'm not messing with someone. Oh and, my name's Gabriel by the way”

You sit down on the couch next to him after he finishes his introduction “Thank you, really. I had somewhere else I could go to but I had too many memories of my dad there.”

He lazily spreads out on the couch and nods in agreement, “You don't have to explain that to me, I totally get it. I would be living with my family but there's just too much going on there too. I mean, don't even get me started on the family drama”

You start becoming more comfortable and relax on the couch “Please, I feel like I'm the queen of family drama, My uncle left me after my dad died to go kanoodle with a demon”

His jaw drops “Are you serious, that bitch! You deserve better. I should have messed with him more”

You sigh in exhaustion “I don't even wanna think about it right now. You need to tell me your drama so I forget about mine”

He immediately starts unloading “Oh, where do I even start? My brothers have always been fighting but it kinda died down for a while, but now they're at it again. And whenever they fight, it's always messy, they hurt other people and it's just annoying.” 

“Oh, I hate a messy fight. People need to learn to control themselves” You reply

He nods in agreement “Tell me about it. That's why this time, I'm not picking a side. I'm gonna stay out of it till it dies down. It's just frustrating because nobody else tries to stop it, they just pick a side and go with it. My dad has just given up, he is nowhere to be found”

Your eyes widen “Omg he ditched you guys, that's crazy messed up. I think it would be worse if my dad left, at least when he died it wasn't his choice. I guess that's why it hurt so much when Sam left”

Gabriel takes a deep breath “You know, talking it out actually feels better than I thought it would”

You take a second to think before responding “It actually does. I haven't really talked to anyone since everything happened and I already feel way better”

He gives you a mischievous smile “You know what would make this even better? Booze.”

sorry for any typos

@areswasneverhere

[ingenuitique]

this was probably the rookie’s strongest episode of the season (i don’t remember if there were others but I genuinely enjoyed it sm today). they handle multiple cop plotlines so well it truly felt like before (idk before what but i also sort of do know the exact issue they have). positives first - i loved lucy and celina’s plot, it was fun to see them just be badass, saving the day (lucy especially THAT’S MY GIRL crashing through windows fr). i am really glad they put Tim back in the TO roles because he might be good as a sergeant but he really shines with his interpersonal dynamics and I love seeing Tim and Miles (they’ve managed to nail another TO-Rookie dynamic which is basically my favourite thing about the show anyway). even the last few episodes where they show what a great teacher Tim is, because he understands his rookies and what they need.

The Tim-Angela scene was cute too, Tim being one of the girls is always fun to see reiterated.

I also liked seeing Miles take on something like this. He really loves his job so it’s nice to see him have individual storylines too. I don’t know where they’d eventually go with this whole Nyla cop reform storyline but it’s an important conversation so I’m happy to see it.

I honestly don’t mind that Tim and Lucy are not “together” because they basically… are? They’re not looking to date other people, they are just sort of both waiting for things to fall into place career wise (and Lucy needs time to trust him again which is completely understandable so like this is a great place for chenford to be in idk)

Also them winning the game ahah Tim as captain was a guaranteed win that man cares about the game too much.

Andd a random prediction I have (also sort of wish) that whoever sent that guy to Tim’s house is how Tim ends up with a near death experience this season… like gimme it. Come on.

Now the negatives:

First of all they REALLY need to give wopez a storyline this season because literally everyone else is doing something and they had that random cop-has-a-crush-on-angela story that ended up being nothing anyway and then nothing!! give me something! I miss them, I wanna see them!

i am glad lucy addressed the true crime thing but i also sort of found it uncomfortable cause lucy was, quite literally, a victim of a serial killer too… she just lived through it and idk maybe they’ve just forgotten it? And i don’t understand the point of removing lucy from the final scene too… everyone was there they actively made it a point to not have her there is there some eventual plot there or what

the first scene of Bailey trash talking Nolan was so?? Like it was objectively bad acting there was no emotion in the way she was saying stuff idk i was so confused.

The Amazon Prime plugin reminded me of 9-1-1 instantly and was literally the only thing I liked about the scene oops?

Also… I HATE that they got zero consequences for aiding a hitman for Jason? Like uh… their relationship constraint barely existed, there was no moral ambiguity. I was expecting at least SOME plot about Nolan being confused in a crucial moment of whether he should let Malvado go… i was totally convinced it will happen, Malvado will slip from his hands and Nolan will have some moral crisis if he was genuinely outsmarted or if he let him go to save Bailey like at least that would make it more interesting? Why is there no actual threat? Why is it that conveniently Angela is the one who killed him so there’s no reason for Nolan to even be in the picture? There was so much scope and they did nothing with it just throwaway line about him maybe threatening them?? Show don’t tell? Idk what I’m saying but it was so anti climactic. Even Nolan being the one who shoots him and questioning if he did it because the situation called for it or because he wanted to “get rid of the evidence”.

[peachbubbless]

Hello fellow sbr fan could do gyro x reader or Johnny x reader

And reader is also in race tbh what I wanna say why/how do they fall in love with reader

Hey Sharkie how you doing!! Your reblog the other day was hilarious ;) I wasn’t super sure what to write for this one but hope you still enjoy my love <3

How Gyro Zeppeli Fell in Love With You

Day 4 SBR Fanfic Week

The First Time He Noticed You (And Wished He Didn’t)

It was during the canyon ambush - three days after the second checkpoint, two days before the cliffside massacre that would cost six riders their lives.

You weren’t supposed to be there. No one else had taken that offshoot path. But you had. And when the dust and Stand-fire cleared, Gyro was left with a torn sleeve, blood in his mouth, and a clear memory of the way you stood - back to the wind, one eye swelling shut, your boot grinding down on the enemy’s wrist before they could flick their Stand to full range.

“Behind,” you said without turning.

Gyro ducked. Threw.

The ball hit clean.

When the echo faded, he stood there breathing hard, steel burning hot in his palm.

You didn’t ask for thanks. Just wiped your nose on your sleeve and said, “You’re welcome.”

He watched you walk away, your gait favoring your left side. A limp he hadn’t seen before.

Johnny asked, “Friend of yours?”

“Hell no,” Gyro muttered.

But he was watching you again by nightfall.

You Got Under His Skin

Gyro liked control.

He liked knowing the Spin worked. That his calculations were clean. That his principles - rotation, precision, purpose - protected him from chaos.

You didn’t like control. Not in the same way.

You rode like someone who knew the terrain would break your horse’s legs eventually, but wanted to outrun the ground anyway. You fought like someone who’d bitten a god once and liked the taste.

He hated that. And he hated that he respected it more.

It came to a head at a water stop in Kansas.

Your horse limped in. So did Johnny’s. The difference was, Johnny was in the dirt, and you were still upright.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Gyro said, arms crossed, the smell of sweat and blood sharp in the air.

You shrugged. “Better riders than me already have.”

“That supposed to be noble?”

“No,” you said. “It’s supposed to be true.”

He didn’t like that answer.

He didn’t like the way it echoed something he’d said to Johnny only hours earlier.

He didn’t like the way you looked at him - not for permission, not for approval.

Like an equal.

And maybe that was the problem.

You Asked the Wrong Question at Exactly the Right Time

After the battlefield.

After Gyro watched Johnny tremble beside a rusted cannon and whisper something about honor that he couldn’t say twice.

You sat down beside Gyro that night. No fire. No noise. Just the wind crawling through grass tall enough to cut your skin.

“I’ve been thinking,” you said, “about what we owe to the dead.”

He didn’t look at you.

But his grip tightened on the flask.

“If they’re gone,” you continued, “why do we carry them like they’re still watching?”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t move.

You said, “Or maybe we’re just pretending they are, because otherwise what we did doesn’t mean anything.”

And that?

That got him.

Because you were wrong. And you were right. And he hated how much you sounded like his own voice in the middle of the night when the whiskey ran out.

“You talk too much,” he muttered.

But he handed you the flask.

And didn’t take it back for a long time.

You Used the Spin (Poorly)

He was livid.

Not because you’d stolen a steel ball - that, he could live with.

Not because you nearly snapped your wrist - that, too, was recoverable.

But because you’d gotten close. Close enough that the vibration skittered through the bark of a tree. Close enough that the motion was almost right.

“Are you insane?” he snapped, grabbing the ball out of your hand. “This isn’t a trick. This is sacred. It’s not meant for-”

“People like me?” you offered.

He froze.

You were already pulling your glove off, wrist dark with bruising.

“I know,” you said. “But I had to try. He would’ve killed you.”

(He would’ve.)

Gyro didn’t speak for a long time.

When he finally did, it was quiet.

“You’re lucky you’re bad at it,” he said. “If you’d done it right, it might’ve broken you in worse ways.”

You didn’t ask what that meant.

And he didn’t explain.

But that night, while Johnny was asleep and you were wrapping your ribs in silence, Gyro tossed a steel ball at your feet.

“Try again,” he said.

You looked up.

His face was unreadable.

“But do it right this time.”

He Forgot to Be Afraid of You

That was the worst part.

It happened slow. The way all dangerous things do.

He started noticing when you weren’t at camp.

When your horse came back dry-lipped from the heat.

When you snapped your fingers twice before a fight, like you were waking something up inside you.

When you didn’t ask him what his coat insignia meant.

When you didn’t ask him why he stopped smiling after a kill.

When you gave Johnny your half-ration without making a point of it.

He forgot to be afraid of what it meant - to want someone around. To need someone who could gut a man and still ask if his water skin was full.

He forgot how fast fondness became fear.

Until it was too late.

The Moment It Shifted

He was wounded. Bad.

Gyro had taken the hit for Johnny. He didn’t regret that.

But when you found him, slumped against the canyon wall, ribs cracked, coughing blood -

You didn’t panic.

You didn’t scream.

You knelt beside him like you’d been there before and said:

“Do I need to break the steel ball to get you to lie still?”

He laughed. It hurt.

“Don’t touch the ball.”

“Then stop bleeding on my boots.”

He closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, your fingers were on his pulse. Your cheek smudged with someone else’s death. Your expression tight. Tender.

He wanted to say something.

Instead, he passed out.

And when he woke up, your coat was around his shoulders.

The Moment He Realised He Was in Love With You

It was cold.

One of those sudden storms that hits just west of Colorado - not enough to drown you, just enough to cut through your coat and make your joints ache.

Johnny was out cold. Nothing fatal - fever, maybe. Stand backlash. Gyro had seen it before.

You were hauling kindling into the wind, face set in that grim, stubborn line you wore when the world got hard and you refused to flinch.

Gyro was trying to start a fire with numb fingers and a flint that wouldn’t catch.

“Move,” you said, crouching beside him. “You’re gonna slice your hand open.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

You lit the fire in two strikes. Like it meant nothing. Like you’d done it a hundred times before.

You probably had.

He stared at the flame. At the way your hands shook just a little when they dropped the match.

“You’re freezing,” he muttered.

You didn’t answer.

Just peeled off your gloves and reached into his pack without asking - pulled out the emergency blanket and wrapped it around Johnny first. Not yourself. Never yourself.

“Hey,” he said.

You didn’t look at him.

“Don’t,” you replied. “If you’re about to give me some chivalrous Zeppeli nonsense about not sacrificing myself, save it.”

He didn’t.

He just sat there, mouth tight, breath fogging between them.

You tucked the blanket tighter around Johnny, then sat back, knees pulled up, spine against the rocks.

Wind howled. You didn’t flinch.

And Gyro?

He looked at you like he’d never really seen you before.

And realised:

You’d been beside him every time the path cracked open.

You never asked him to carry you. Never made him explain the Spin. Never made him feel like he had to be the executioner or the comedian or the legend.

You let him be tired.

You let him be angry.

You let him be silent.

And you never asked for anything back.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had done that.

He didn’t speak for a long time.

Just watched the fire cast shadows across your face.

You noticed eventually.

“What?” you asked.

He shook his head. Almost smiled.

“Just thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

“Yeah.”

A pause.

Then:

“I think I’m in love with you.”

You turned slowly.

The look on your face - calm, unreadable, real - was more terrifying than any Stand he’d ever faced.

“You sure?” you asked, voice quiet.

“No,” he said honestly. “But I feel it anyway.”

You didn’t kiss him.

Didn’t touch him.

Just said, “Okay.”

And leaned your shoulder against his.

The fire burned steady between you.

And Gyro Zeppeli - for the first time in a long time - let himself believe he might make it to the end of this race with something worth keeping.

Not just a victory.

Not just a name.

You.

[ezekielonlysleptfor2hourd]

Okay so- I have the BVZ School AU request! It's Karmor×Hipswitch themed(THE GAYS).

Basically: the school decides to host a road trip for a week to one of those cabin in the woods type thing, y'know? One where there's places and rooms for the students to sleep in and usually some lighthearted activities as well.

SO! The gang goes on the road trip, and once they arrive there they realize that each will have to share a room with another student(y'know, so every fits-). And Hipswitch and Karmor end up getting paired up together, but the problem is...there's only ONE BED.

At first, both agree to make a little pillow fort at the center of the bed to separate each other so they don't get uncomfortable <- aka Hipswitch doesn't want to make Karmor uncomfortable. Meanwhile, Albus, Mahatma and probably Attila all try to give Hipswitch hints that Karmor likes him(since Karmor doesn't have the balls to do it himself-).

Eventually, through signs, Hipswitch finally realizes that maybe his friends aren't fucking around with him. So, during the day before their departure from the trip, an event takes place in the cottage, something equivalent to a high school prom almost-

Hipswitch attempts to try and get a confession out of the mute by constantly teasing him and playing with him, but instead Karmor bolts out of there out of pure embarrassment. Hipswitch starts to think that maybe Karmor doesn't really like him back after all...but Mahatma manages to convince him to go after his man! So, in their dorm, he decides to take it slow this time instead of teasing Karmor, and eventually he does confess that he has a crush on the older one.

Then they make out(NO JOKE, I want them to kiss, doesn't need to lead into something spicy, just a make out session) and live happily ever after :3

Sorry if it's a bit long, I thought a lot about this "ówò)

YES. I’ve got you. Here’s your slow-burn, kiss-at-the-end, teasing-to-confession BVZ School AU fanfic featuring our boys:

I hope you like your meal ! 🍽️

⸻

Title: “One Bed, One Brain Cell”

The cabin was cute in that “this-was-probably-haunted-during-the-1800s” kind of way. Wooden walls. Cold floorboards. The sound of overly enthusiastic classmates yelling outside as they claimed beds and argued over who got top bunk.

Hipswitch slung his bag onto the floor and eyed the room.

One bed.

One singular, twin-sized, very-cozy bed.

“…Partner, we’re doomed.”

Kamor stood in the doorway, holding his duffle like a shield. He looked at the bed. Then at Hipswitch. Then back at the bed. His face was unreadable—except for the slight twitch in his brow and the way his ears were pink.

Hipswitch rubbed the back of his neck. “We could, uh—do the whole pillow barrier thing? Like a fort. Like Switzerland. Neutral zone in the middle. Unless you wanna take the floor. I’ll take the floor. You’ll probably sleep prettier.”

Kamor just shook his head quickly, signing: ‘Pillow wall is fine.’

And so it began: the slow, awkward, utterly tense descent into mutual pining hell.

⸻

Day 2.

Albus: “You realize he likes you, right?”

Hipswitch: “He barely looks me in the eye, Albus.”

Mahatma: “That’s because he’s in love with you and full of shame. Like a Victorian maiden.”

Attila: “He literally made you a playlist for the bus ride and stared at you the whole time. You dense bitch.”

Hipswitch: “I thought he was zoning out.”

Attila: “Zoning out while mouthing the lyrics to ‘Take On Me’ while you slept on his shoulder???”

Hipswitch: “…okay I’m starting to get it now.”

⸻

The Final Night: School Dance

The old lodge was dressed up with cheap streamers and even cheaper punch. Hipswitch wore a suit jacket over his usual hoodie, hair actually brushed for once. Kamor was in a soft blue sweater and jeans, looking like every indie dream boy ever.

Hipswitch found him by the punch bowl and leaned in. “You look good enough to kiss, partner.”

Kamor’s eyes went wide. Then he turned and bolted, his sweater catching slightly on a folding chair as he vanished into the woods like a startled deer.

“…Right,” Hipswitch muttered. “Cool. I’m the asshole now.”

⸻

Back at the Room

Hipswitch sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands.

“I blew it. Shoulda kept it cool. Shouldn’t have flirted. I’m not even good at it. I’m like if a golden retriever tried to be smooth.”

Mahatma stood in the doorway, arms crossed. “He ran because he panicked, not because he hates you.”

“Doesn’t mean he wants me.”

“Then go ask him.”

A pause.

“…Yeah. Yeah, alright.”

⸻

Later that night

Kamor was curled up on the bed, hoodie over his head, knees drawn up, earbuds in. Hipswitch sat beside him, gently nudging his leg. Kamor looked over, hesitantly.

“Hey,” Hipswitch said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Kamor sat up slowly, taking out one earbud.

“I was just… trying to see if maybe I wasn’t totally imagining this thing between us.” He paused. “But I can’t keep teasing if it makes you wanna vanish.”

Kamor stared at him.

Then, slowly, shakily, he reached for Hipswitch’s hand and signed with trembling fingers:

‘You weren’t imagining it.’

Hipswitch’s heart jumped.

“Oh.”

Kamor’s face was flushed—he looked like he was about to pass out from sheer emotional effort.

So Hipswitch didn’t say anything else.

He just leaned in. Gently, softly. Let Kamor meet him halfway.

Their lips touched—tentative at first. Testing the waters. Then again, deeper. Kamor’s hand slipped into Hipswitch’s hoodie, curling around his shirt, and Hipswitch held him like he was afraid he’d disappear again.

The kiss turned slower. Warmer.

When they finally pulled away, Kamor looked dazed.

Hipswitch grinned like a man who’d won the lottery and survived a crash landing. “You got a nice mouth for a guy who doesn’t talk.”

Kamor rolled his eyes, signed ‘Shut up’, and kissed him again.

⸻

They fell asleep that night in the same bed, the pillow wall long forgotten.

[messrsrarchives]

a long snippet from a oneshot i've been cooking up for ages because i'm scrolling the docs again: past jegulus, mid-war, dead reg :/

Remus pops his head into the room a couple of hours after James arrives and very succinctly says he’s leaving. James asks where he’s going and Sirius pretends to be asleep, his lips moving silently on their own accord out of habit, following along with the words that feel like their vows at this point - I can’t say, Dumbledore’s orders.

He doesn’t come back until two weeks later and if Sirius were a better man, he would do something. If he were a better man he would have sprung up from his bed and gone to check on him.

But he doesn’t.

He thinks that’s what they mean when they say grief is suffocating - him and James may have permanently indented the bed. It’s as though the mattress is coming up around their prone forms, holding them captive and refusing to let them grow.

They’ve been summoning food from the kitchen in the form of bread and butter. After the first week, the bread started moulding and they picked around it, savouring crumbs until they were eventually just dipping their fingers into the tub of butter and hoping the fat does something. Enough to keep them alive, not enough to make them mobile.

They stop crying a few days before Remus returns, instead laying with their backs to each other and whispering to their respective walls.

Conversations that they should be having but can’t quite bring themselves to acknowledge properly, leaving them asking the same questions over and over again.

‘Did you ever find out why he came back?’ Sirius will ask, and James will reply with a sigh or a shake of his head that Sirius feels against his own. Once, a mumbled ‘Did he ever really?’ that left them both silent for hours.

James will ask if Sirius loves Regulus, and Sirius will say ‘What is there to love?’.

It will make James take in a ragged breath and Sirius almost hopes that James will answer. That he’d share stories of their time together, even as mundane as James wandering into the kitchen in the mornings to find Regulus in front of the stove and a pot of coffee next to him. Something so pathetically human like the way Regulus maybe doesn't hang his coat up, or how he falls asleep on the sofa with a book more often than their in bed.

He never does. Why should he? There’s nothing left to love.

They go back and forth endlessly, barely fuelling themselves to the point where Sirius is hardly lucid when Remus limps through the door, a whole lifetime picked apart and analysed in the time he's been gone.

He can’t get to Sirius’ side of the bed, pushed against the wall, and Sirius refuses to leave.

He’s no more aware when Remus casts the charm on the bed, barely recognising what’s happening when there’s suddenly enough space for Remus to crawl in, rolling Sirius over to the middle without a word and taking his spot instead.

Sirius doesn’t open his eyes to look at him. If he looks then he has to acknowledge that life goes on, that he should be out there fighting. If he looks to see the state of Remus, he won’t be able to pretend anymore.

“Sorry,” Remus mumbles as he settles down, “Figured you’d wanna be next to Prongs.”

Sirius doesn’t reply, of course he doesn't. He just lies there and feels his eyelids get heavier even when closed, welcoming sleep for the fourth time that day… maybe. Maybe the fifth. Maybe the first, even, he has no idea what day it is.

Remus’ voice cuts through the fog, jagged and weak, “Sirius?”

“Hm?”

“Can I…” He trails off and lets out a short groan, one that catches in his throat and Sirius nearly reflexively opens his eyes, but he doesn’t get the chance to.

Remus just pulls Sirius into his chest and curls around him, “Just for tonight,” he shakes out, “Please. We don’t have to talk about it.”

The next morning, Sirius doesn’t mention that it’s the first time he’s slept without nightmares since this one started. He just stumbles out of bed and gets dressed.

[mehwmidklpe]

my leo obsession has gone crazy after i reread the books so can you pls do some leo valdez x hypnos!fem!reader stuff? fluff, angst. idk take ur pick i love anything 🤫‼️😝

well honestly who isn't obsessed with Leo?

"Mi amor, you said you wanted to watch the stars."

"Mhm."

"And you promised you'd stay awake."

A sigh escaoed your lips at that. You wanted to stay awake, you really did.

The moon, the stars, you loved them you adored them.. but it was hard not the fall asleep below them.

Leo's hand found yours in a gentle, slow way. "How are you gonna admire the view if your eyes are closed?"

"I can picture it in my head." You mumbled out. Leo let out the quietest laugh. "Sure." He said before turning on his side to face you.

"Y/n.. can you open your eyes for me?"

One second.

Two seconds.

Three.

Open.

You watched his gaze flicker all over your face as you turned on your side just like he did.

A tired smile spread across your lips. "You're better view." You admit. He smiled. "Actually, I'm the one who's supposed to tell you that."

Your boyfriend's hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear like he always did, his nimble fingers lingering on your cheek.

"Your eyes do sparkle like stars though." His tone was soft. You hummed again, smiling at the compliment, eyes fluttering shut.

"Which is why I'd love to see them wide open." He continued, trying to snap you out of it.

To his luck, your eyes opened again. "Sorry." "Don't be. But if you fall asleep, and I fall asleep, too, then we'll probably get eaten by harpies."

You smiled. "They'll fall asleep with us if they come near me." Leo raised his eyebrows. "Oh. Nice."

Eventually, you made an attempt to actually stargaze like you'd planed to.

Your head rested on his chest as you pointed at the stars, telling your boyfriend their namesabd facts about them.

All Leo did was listen and admire your knowledge. Leo being quiet was rare, he must be pretty whipped for you.

"What's that one called? It's glowing." He pointed into the distance.

Your expression dropped slowy. The latino frowned, looking down at you. "Y/n?" "That's Zoë."

"Zoë?"

"Zoë Nightshade."

Leo's frown only deepend.

"She's a friend of mine. She uhm.. she died a few years ago. Artemis gave her a place where she belongs."

Leo never knew you had lost a friend like that. He frowned at the fact. "Y/n.."

You cleared your troath.

"Anyways, we should probably get some sleep. You always stay up late to work on something, it stresses me out, you know that." You managed a smile.

Leo wasn't buying it. "We could sleep here. If you wanna.. stay under the stars for a while."

Your expression softens. "You're okay what that?" "Totally."

With that you let yourself rest against him again, dozing off faster than you'd expected.

Leo just stared at you for a long while, as if trying to keep you safe with his gaze.

"You'll be okay, mi estrella." With that, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.