#I will cry if we don’t get a third season

[somesmartsmarties]

Finished binge watching Sonic Prime the other day, this is basically all you need to know about the show

[jamminvroomvroom]

congrats on 5k queen! you’re writing is so brilliant beyond belief and you deserve all the love and support this site has to offer. can i request lando+angsty smut (the best combo)…prompts along the lines of “i don’t think im ever going to love anyone the way i love you”//“i don’t think i want to love anyone else”

how did it end?

ln x famous fem!reader

in which it ends, until…

i love this fic with my whole heart. thank u sm for this request, anon, and for being so absolutely for gorgeous and kind <3 kicking off the 5k celebration with a big, sad, sexy bang! lemme know what you think, hugs n kisses

songs to set the mood: how did it end? by taylor swift

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst angst angst, fluff, happy ending! exes to lovers, just. a lot going on. sad!lando, sad!everyone, so many feels, r is a big deal model, alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking

4.1k words

one gasp, and then…

“how did it end?” the woman strokes your arm, soothing, tentative.

you don’t know her all that well, she’s signed to the same agency as you, you see her in the halls sometimes and sit next to her in makeup chairs.

you stare blankly at her, registering. news travels fast apparently.

you smile, small, fake, tilting your head to the side. you mumble something about different schedules, timezones, right person, wrong time. she watches your face intently, with sympathy. you want to throttle her. she’s being kind and you despise her for it right now.

“i won’t tell anyone.” she affirms, her fingers still smoothing over the skin of your arm.

yes you will, you think. all of her friends, the rest of the building will know exactly what you’ve told her by the time you get to your meeting. you don’t begrudge her, though, that’s the nature of the industry.

“well, it was good to see you.” you nod, even go in for a quick hug, and then you speed away, beelining for the elevator. the ride is short, your managers office somewhere on the third floor and you shuffle down the corridor, ready to be informed of what your life will look like for the next three months.

fittings, shoots, paris trip.

mhm.

swimwear season, charlotte tilbury, meeting with the vogue journalist.

cool.

week off, few days in london, monaco grand prix.

no.

“what? no.” you splutter. out of habit, you reach for a necklace, frown when you realise it’s no longer there.

“what do you mean, no?” she narrows her eyes at you.

“i can’t go to the race. no.”

“girl, i love you, but did i ask?”

“you know i can’t-“

“you won’t have to see him.” she reasons.

“but what if i do? he’s obviously gonna be there, and the events before and after- no. no.”

“lando norris is not gonna be the end of you.”

you stifle a laugh, one that sounds more like a strangled cry.

what if he already was?

-

look who we ran into at the shops,

walking in circles like he was lost

lando stares at the shampoo.

specifically, the one you use. used. he can’t be too sure anymore, he supposes.

he’d popped out for a loaf of bread, about an hour ago. he didn’t want to acknowledge how long he’d been staring at the women’s toiletries section.

you seemed to live on, everywhere. lando could see you in his apartment, the passenger seat of his car, the back of the garage. even the fucking supermarket wasn’t safe. you were very much alive, moving on with life, and yet you haunted him like he’d killed you himself.

perhaps he had, in a way.

the basket grazes the outside of his leg.

that’s the shower gel he’d buy for you, the one you only used when you stayed with him in monaco.

there’s the tampons you asked him to buy, crying back at home on your- his bed.

oh, and there’s the shampoo that you made him buy, the one that you told him made his curls feel extra fluffy when he was between your legs-

“lando?” a voice calls, drawing lando out of the mist.

“oh, alex. hey.” lando croaks. he hasn’t noticed the lump in his throat until now. he clears his throat, running a hand through his hair.

“what you doing, mate?” alex asks, eyebrows furrowed. he scans lando’s face, puffy eyes, watery.

“shopping.”

“for women’s shampoo?”

“no, no, just… looking.” lando stutters.

“when was the last time you slept?” alex’s voice is laced with concern, apprehensive. he doesn’t know what to say to his heartbroken friend.

lando smiles weakly.

“i’ve been sleeping.”

alex sighs.

“okay, when was the last time you slept properly, then?”

lando’s shoulders visibly sag.

“about a month ago.”

-

we hereby conduct this post-mortem

“we can’t do this anymore.”

the words fall from your lips in a whisper, but they reach him like you’ve screamed them at him. he sits opposite you, in the arm chair, so far away, only a metre or so.

“i know.” lando breathes shakily.

“i don’t want this but…”

“yeah.”

it’s been such a good year. you’re in love. it’s not enough. there’s too much distance, too many outsider opinions, too much longing for someone who’s on the other side of the world.

he’ll be in london. you’ll be in brazil.

he’ll be in australia. you’ll be in amsterdam.

it’s too much.

“i love you, though.” you remind him meekly.

“don’t know how to not love you.” he sniffles.

your heart shatters, the pieces flying over the room, spilling across the floor. they mix with the splinters of his, painting the room red. all you feel is blue.

you cry in his arms when he takes you to bed, his own tears spilling over your collar bone when he buries his head in your neck, licks over the marks he’s left there. to remember me by, he’d muttered dryly.

when you’re both finished, he lays there for a moment, still on top of you. damp with sweat and tears, the taste of one another still lingering on your tongues.

“how is it possible that i miss you already?” he pants, lips grazing just below your ear.

“i get it, lan. i’ve been missing you for a while.”

you’re gone when he wakes up.

and so, a touch that was my birthright became foreign

-

come one, come all

it’s happening again

the empathetic hunger descends

there are about six cameras pointed at you when he asks the dreaded question.

you’re in new york, sat on a talk show hosts sofa, lit by stage lights and his inquisitive eyes. two hundred people sit in the audience, on the edge of their seats waiting for you to spill your secrets.

“so, what happened there, with lando?”

you plaster on the fakest smile to date, crossing your legs anxiously.

“we’re both just so busy, you know? he’s doing amazing things in f1 and i’m all over the place with work.”

“we love both of you over here, it was sad to hear.” he sympathises, adjusting his tie and leaning back in his chair. his fingers drum over the wood of his desk, waiting for more.

vultures. everyone is a vulture.

“and we still have a lot of love for each other. he’s a wonderful person.”

there are tears in your eyes and bile rising rapidly in your throat when you shake hands with the crew, the host, and retreat to your dressing room. you stumble into the en-suite and throw up. then, you fall onto the sofa and cry. you fix your makeup at godspeed and reply to the text from your team, inviting you to drinks at some rooftop bar, promising to meet them there. you punctuate the text with one too many exclamation marks, feigning excitement.

“we still have a lot of love for each other.”

translation: i can’t understand: how did it end?

-

lando watches your interview. of course he does. he watches everything that you do, watches the way you set the world on fire.

he can’t help himself where you’re concerned, like an addict craving the next hit. you look so pretty on tv, glowing. you look fine.

god, why do you look fine?

he hates himself for hating just how fine you look. he is not fine.

“he’s a wonderful person.”

your words ring in his ears. they anger him, because if he’s oh-so-wonderful, why aren’t you here? why isn’t he there with you, waiting backstage? why can’t you just hate him? why can’t he just hate you? maybe you will, if he shows you just how not wonderful he can be.

he gets drunk that night. forces max to hit the clubs with him. sticks his tongue down a pliant woman’s throat. doesn’t ask her name. let’s her invite him back to her place. it has to be her place, he can’t fuck someone else in your bed, the one you used to share. he leaves minutes after he’s pulled out. he’s sure she’s lovely, too good for him and his bitter fucking heart. he feels utterly disgusting.

lando goes home, scrubs his skin red, and then does it again. he doesn’t go to sleep, watches from his balcony as the sun begins to rise over the sea. he hikes to the highest point he can reach in monaco, where it’s quiet and there’s no one to judge him, or worse, sympathise with him.

he stands at the edge of the cliff. screams once, twice. he sits on a rock, and lets himself cry.

the deflation of our dreaming

leaving me bereft and reeling

my beloved ghost and me

sitting in a tree

d-y-i-n-g

-

your stylist is plying you with options.

you can wear the denim with the cream OR you could do the red and white? or we can go full glam! or! or! or! we could-

you drown her out. you don’t give a fuck. not a single one.

what you wear to the monaco grand prix is quite literally the least of the your problems. your biggest problem, of course, is that you have to go to the fucking thing.

visibility is important, get people talking! the words of your manager ring in your ears until you have a dull migraine brewing behind your ears.

you leave the fitting not entirely sure what you’re wearing, but your stylist will be sending the clothes over so you can pack.

when you land in all too familiar nice, there are cameras. when you get to the hotel in monaco, you and lando are already trending on twitter. well, at least he knows you’re coming. when you’re getting your makeup done before your first event, you get a text.

i’ll try and keep my distance.

try.

try is such an interesting word. the fact that he has to try to stay away makes your belly flutter with embarrassing, self loathing butterflies. don’t try too hard, you want to respond. you don’t.

should’ve told you i’d be here you shoot back.

you think i didn’t already know?

of course he knew. he’d probably asked god knows how many brands to invite you. you try and feign an illness but your team drag you kicking and screaming to the event.

-

there are no two ways about it: you’re drunk, on a tuesday night, somewhere in the principality. a few cocktails with a jewellery brand turned into a night on the town, bar hopping with people you hardly knew and barely recognised.

you’re shaking your ass in jimmy’z, pretending to have fun when you see him.

lando stands at the bar, watching you, jaw tensed, eyes solemn. you exit the club faster that his car down a back straight, stumbling into the smoking area. you bum a cigarette from a guy who tries really hard to convince you that he’s the son of a british lord, and sink into the corner, ignoring the people recording you.

depressed model shame smokes outside monaco club because she is fucking pathetic, the headlines will read.

“thought you quit that shit.” his voice washes over your body like you’ve been set on fire, smooth tone, ambiguous accent making you ache.

“i did but then i got forced to come to monaco, so.” you shrug.

“forced?”

“‘m here for work.” you sigh.

“i guess i am too.” he mumbles. you raise an eyebrow.

“you live here, lan.” you tease. lan rolls off of your tongue too sweetly.

“doesn’t feel like it anymore.”

how can it, without you? he wants to scream at you. he can’t, you don’t deserve it.

“how are you?”

you want to touch him.

“shit.”

he needs a taste.

“yeah.”

you put your cigarette out. it tastes like shit, half smoked.

you stand there, stare at each other.

take me home, you want to beg.

come home, he clenches his fists, trying not to grab you and remind you how you’ll always be his, right here, up against the side of the club.

“good luck, if i don’t see you.” you whisper. you linger, praying that he’ll beg you to stay so that you can crumble into his arms, without having to make the first move.

lando ponders his options. his head and his heart wage a war.

logic wins, unfortunately.

“thank you.”

you take that as your queue to get the fuck out of there, and disappear into the night.

-

it’s raining on sunday. the dreary weather seems to perfectly sum up what has been the worst week of your life.

you’ve seen your ex boyfriend more times than you can count, ended up with about four hangovers as a result, and with a pounding head, you have to sit in the paddock club and wait for the sound of engines to split your head in half. it was your own doing, so you’d suck it up, recognising that you were a disgustingly privileged bitch, and there are people who would sell their kidneys to do what you’re complaining about.

you never complain, not usually. but your heart hurts and your body hearts and your mind hurts and it’s just not fair. lando is gorgeous, and you miss him so badly, and your shoes are digging in. who the fuck thinks it’s a good idea to wear heels to an f1 race?

you see him before the race, mouth good luck from afar. he winks. it’s something you used to do before every race. old habits die screaming.

the rain falls harder, the track slick. you say a prayer and take your seat.

“norris has this in the bag, he’s bloody good in the wet.” you hear some old guy say behind you. you are cursed with the knowledge of just how good in the wet he is, and you end up flushed.

he wins. his second one in three races. you pray that no one notices the way you weep. everyone notices.

you make a mistake and rush for the podium, your pass giving you access. he graces the top step and you sob, grinning like a fool, soaked through with rain. the anthem plays, the champagne pops. he finds your eyes in the crowd. your hair falls, stringy and curled, mascara smudged. you are the most breathtaking sight. he stands still, washed with an onslaught of champagne, watching you like he’s scared to take his eyes off of you. his boyish grin and hopeful eyes render you weak - you’re there for him, after all - and he can’t help but bask in that little fact.

dangerous territory. you break, and disappear.

-

say it once again with feeling…

the photographers barely get a second to snap a picture of the top three, because lando is gone. he takes the stairs two at a time, descending from the podium and throwing his pirelli cap and a shaky apology at his pr rep. the adrenaline spike makes his blood rush; he needs to find you and stop you and tell you that he will never be able to stop loving you.

the exit is the natural assumption, and he nearly slips a thousand times as he sprints through the paddock. the ground is wet, but he figures that if his car made it, so can he. the gates are in sight, and so are you, your clothes sticking to your shivering frame.

he calls your name, thunderously travelling towards you, his voice hitting your ears like a sonic boom. you freeze, turn slowly until your facing him. the rain splashes around you, not letting up.

you’re within his reach, and he pulls you in, hugging you tight. you melt into him, clinging like he’s a life force. he inhales you, your scent that he’s missed so horrifically. you crumble, and so does he, pieced back together as one.

“i can’t do this, i can’t.” he kisses the words into the cold skin of your neck.

“no, neither can i.” you choke wetly with emotion.

“miss you too much. it’s too hard, it’s stupid, it’s-“

“wrong. it’s wrong. ‘m sorry.” your breath fans his face, breathing life into him, life that he’d lost four months ago.

he grabs your shoulders, lowering so that his eyes are level with yours. his curls fall over his eyes, sodden from the rain.

“i don’t think, no, i know: i’m never gonna love anyone the way i love you.” lando speaks slow, convincing. your chest is tight.

“i don’t want to love anyone else.” you croak, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe.

“come back to me.” he mutters, pleading.

“don’t think i ever left.” you breathe, hushed.

your lips slot over his easily, it’s like breathing. the kiss is messy, helpless, and he engulfs you whole, his body wrapping around yours like a blanket. you latch onto his race-suit, drawing him in, and then you both seem to remember where you are.

lando norris caught kissing ex like horny teenager in monaco paddock!

you pull away with breathless chuckle. the air is fresh, and you feel alive. he steals another peck.

“wait for me at home. i’ll be quick.” his hand finds you ass, just for a second and you scold him playfully.

home.

yeah, home.

“don’t make me wait.” you grin.

his brain short circuits.

“do you still have your key?” he splutters, refocusing.

you scoff. “never took it off the chain.”

-

you pace the apartment, taking in the space. it hasn’t changed, but it’s messier, a visual representation of lando since you left. the pit of your belly swirls with anxiety, anticipation. he’ll be back soon, and he’ll kiss you, make love to you, remind you that you’re home and that it’d be stupid to leave again.

you’re still damp from the rain, shedding layers until you’re left in your vest and jeans, ridiculous heels kicked off by the door, your jacket airing over the back of a chair.

he hasn’t taken down the pictures of you together. he hasn’t moved your ugly collection of magnets from the fridge. he hasn’t changed the blinds that you chose, but he didn’t really like. your candles sit on the bookshelf half burned, the teddy he’d won you at a fair sits neatly on the sofa. the L pendant and it’s chain is strewn over the coffee table, right where you left it the morning after it ended. your breathing is heavy.

the front door opens behind you.

you don’t move, your eyes still fixed on the silver chain, overwhelmed by how empty your neck feels all of the sudden. he comes up behind you, his head resting on your shoulder, arms finding home around your waist. you often used to find yourselves in this exact position; while you brushed your teeth, made coffee. the room is deathly silent, breathing and the distant buzz of post race festivities the only thing you can hear. lando follows your gaze.

“kept it. knew that one day, you’d come back for it.”

“i came back for you.”

“and that necklace will stay with you when i can’t be there.”

you nod. he kisses your neck.

“missed you so bad.” you gasp. he licks your skin, bites down softly.

you spin in his arms, his hands pawing at your hips and everything blurs when he kisses you.

-

shaky fingers work over zippers, buttons, clasps, and then you’re both bare. you sink into the mattress that you missed so much, his body moulded with yours when you both tumble into the sheets. this is messy and frantic, utterly lovestruck. the lightning strike of his touch has you keening, sweating beneath him already.

“missed you. missed this.”

“do something, lan.” you cry, quiet against his shoulder.

“missed my perfect girl.” he grunts, lips working your chest while his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps over your inner thigh.

“please.” you sigh when his fingers dip between your folds, sliding over your wet flesh. his lip catches between his teeth, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of you.

he thumbs at your clit, stroking over you in slow, firm swipes, and then he’s sinking a digit into you, slow and steady. your toes curl, tears pricking your eyes at the intrusion, but you don’t have much of a chance to adjust, a second finger joining the first. he fucks you full, the stretch of just two fingers making you whine, one hand threading into the sheets while the other slams over your mouth. you want to hide, the pleasure rendering you a mess across the pale grey linen.

“no, let me look at you.” lando rasps, spare hand tugging at your wrist. you whine, writhing when he curls his fingers. “why are you hiding?”

you can’t hold back the choked cry that sounds from the back of your throat, his palm bumping your clit as he grinds his fingers deep.

“gone shy on me, baby? where’s my good girl gone?” lando coos, moving so that he’s leaning over you. the angle change sends your legs flying, kicking out at the sweet torture. “‘s because you haven’t been fucked right in so long, hm? can’t remember how to behave?” he’s smirking down at you, scanning the changing lines of your face.

“need it, need-“ you stutter, the words dying on your tongue.

“words, pretty girl, words.” lando encourages, false sympathy dripping from his tongue.

“need to cum, want you to make me…” you trail off.

“was that so hard?” he tuts, and everything speeds up.

the sound of him working you so sweetly makes you shake, your thighs clenching tight around his hand. the wet squelch hits your ears and you blush, cheeks coloured deep with embarrassment, awe, desperation.

your mouth drops open, screaming silently when it hits, your thighs slick. you drip down his wrist, his hand covered in your release.

“there’s my girl.” lando sighs, diving down to kiss you hard.

you can feel the damp press of his fingers as they dig into your thighs and you squirm beneath him, finding your way into his mouth.

“fuck me.” you slur, teeth knocking with his. he swallows you whole, groaning into your mouth.

“not so shy now, hm? been dreaming of hearing you beg for it.” lando shudders, shifting between your legs.

you can feel the press of him, thick against your cunt and you wiggle your hips, pushing to meet him halfway. the stretch burns deliciously, and you grab at his shoulders, dragging him in.

“fuck, baby.” he breathes, sinking into you slowly. “feel like heaven.” disbelief coats his voice, like he can’t reconcile that this is real; you’re back here, his, in the bed you were always supposed to share.

“it’s so good. feel so good for me, lan.” you whisper, lacing your fingers through his hair.

“love you so much.” he kisses you like he means it, rocking into you with purpose.

“can’t believe i lived without this.”

“can’t believe you’re all mine.”

the release builds, every thrust reminding you of what you could have lost for good. there was no lack of love, in fact you were starting to wonder if you had loved each other too much before.

“never losing you again. can’t live without you. my beautiful girl.”

your tummy grows tight, and he finds your clit when he feels you clamp down on him. he pulls you through the pleasure, guides you to your orgasm and you blindly follow him. you’d follow him anywhere, you decide.

you tell him you love him when you let go, spilling all around him, warm. he’s panting, kisses your forehead gently. he rolls off of you, and you feel the slow drip instantly, but you curl into his side and he wraps around you.

home.

“promise me something.” he whispers. you feel the way he shakily inhales.

“hm?”

“don’t leave again. you belong here, too. with me.”

your eyes are watery.

“i’m staying. ‘m yours.”

“about that…”

lando springs from the bed, naked, disappearing from the room. you watch, confused, cold all of the sudden.

you can hear his footsteps padding through the hallway, and then he’s back, his figure in the hallway. he runs, jumps, lands gracelessly next to you. endeared, you laugh softly.

“sit up.”

you do, leaning up to sit next to him. his fingers skim your shoulder, pushing your hair out of the way. cool metal dances over your skin.

“back where it belongs.” lando smiles at you, eyes wide and stunning.

you toy with the L. something heals in your chest, right around where your heart is.

“the sweetest boy.” you shake your head in disbelief, grin up at him like a fool.

“bath?”

“you know me so well, noz.”

come one, come all

it’s happening again

-

oh, my heart. there is something deeply wrong with me

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne

[cutielando]

goals | o.p.

social media au

synopsis: in which everyone is jealous of your relationship

my masterlist

liked by landonorris, mclaren and 2,194,572 others

yourusername life lately 🩷 tagged: oscarpiastri

view all 391,724 comments

oscarpiastri ❤️

landonorris why are you doing this?

yourusername doing what?

landonorris making me feel single

yourusername you are single?🤔

landonorris ...not the point😠

logansargeant cute liked by oscarpiastri and yourusername

user1 they are too cute ❤️

nicolepiastri my children ❤️ i miss you guys

yourusername we miss you too, nicole ❤️

oscarpiastri we'll visit soon ❤️

mclaren 🧡 liked by oscarpiastri

lilymhe ❤️❤️❤️

yourusername ❤️

user2 our favorite grid couple ❤️

user3 we love y/n feeding us oscar content during the winter break 🥳🥳

yourusername i got your back 🫶🏻

user3 omg 😭😭

user4 will you come to more races next season? ❤️

yourusername i'm going to do my best to attend them all !! even though Oscar has offered to make me a full-time WAG, i do love my job haha

user4 hahahaha we love Oscar😩

landonorris you're welcome, btw

oscarpiastri for what?

landonorris i took all of these pictures when i was third-wheeling with your asses 😒

yourusername sounds like a you problem

landonorris you always bully me 😔

yourusername sucks to suck

user5 seeing Y/N and Lando bicker like siblings is my favorite thing 😭

user4 fr, they get along so well and i'm sure it's making Oscar's experience more enjoyable and easier because of that

user3 it's amazing to see how much she supports him though

user4 i know, she's been with him for a long time. it’s cute to see how proud she is of him 🥹

liked by yourusername, nicolepiastri and 1,824,715 others

oscarpiastri back to work, always with me💗 tagged: yourusername

view all 417,583 comments

yourusername always ❤️

oscarpiastri ❤️

landonorris wasn’t i third-wheeling enough during the break?

yourusername you’re the one tagging along

oscarpiastri she has a point 🤷🏻‍♂️

landonorris i like hanging out with you guys :(

yourusername then why are you complaining?

landonorris …i don’t know

nicolepiastri ❤️my beautiful son

oscarpiastri i miss you mum 🧡

nicolepiastri we’ll see you soon ❤️❤️

user1 i dream of having a relationship like their when i grow up 😩😩

user2 their love makes me believe in fairytales 💗💗

user3 how long have they been together?

user2 close to 3 years. they are childhood best friends as far as i know

user3 ooh, thank you. i was just wondering because they seem very happy together ❤️

logansargeant you never pay attention to me when she’s with you😭

oscarpiastri that’s not true

yourusername i’m just too cool 😎

logansargeant i don’t know about that

oscarpiastri watch it😠

yourusername my knight in shining armor 😩💗

alex_albon are you trying to be aesthetic?

yourusername we’re not trying, we already are

oscarpiastri i’m surprised you know what that is

alex_albon haha, funny

user4 forever thankful for these 2 🥲❤️❤️

user5 i want someone to love me like Oscar loves Y/N 😩😩😩🧡🧡🧡

user6 they are goals 🥹🥹🥲

yourusername has added to their story

seen by 98K

caption: my outfit for today’s race 🧡

liked by landonorris, mclaren and 1,927,481 others

yourusername proud doesn't even begin to describe how i feel 🧡 tagged: oscarpiastri

view all 471,824 comments

oscarpiastri you were my lucky charm, couldn't have done it without you 🧡

yourusername you're gonna make me cry baby 😭😭😭😭

yourusername i love you so much🩷🩷🩷

oscarpiastri i love you more❤️

landonorris i was on the podium as well :(

yourusername i congratulated you too 🥹

landonorris but why does he get special treatment?

yourusername because he's my boyfriend...?

oscarpiastri watch it, mate

landonorris i was just saying :/

nicolepiastri 🧡🧡🧡🧡 liked by yourusername and oscarpiastri

user1 he did so well for her 😭😭🧡

user2 i want a relationship like theirs 🫶🏻😍

user3 the way he looked at her when he was on the podium >>>

user2 i need someone to look at me like that 😩

user4 girl, same

georgerussell63 well done, mate! well deserved💪🏻

oscarpiastri thanks, george!

logansargeant making the Aussies proud, I see

yourusername he never disappoints

oscarpiastri not when i have you with me

logansargeant why do you always have to flirt in the comments?

yourusername we’re giving the people what they want to see

mclaren proud of you, Oscar! what a stellar weekend! 🧡

yourusername i love you, admin 🥹🧡

mclaren ilyt😉😉

oscarpiastri should i be concerned…?

landonorris they’re taking over. run for your life

yourusername 😒

yourusername you need to step up your game, babe

oscarpiastri are you seriously suggesting i’m losing you to the mclaren admin?

mclaren she’s not suggesting it, it’s already happening

oscarpiastri on it yourusername 🫡

lilymhe you were gorgeous, babe❤️❤️

yourusername i could say the same about you❤️

francisca.cgomes we stole the show

alex_albon ...

pierregasly ...

oscarpiastri ...

yourusername sorry boys

liked by yourusername, nicolepiastri and 3,018,472 others

oscarpiastri we celebrated in style last night tagged: yourusername

view all 724,019 comments

yourusername yes we did 🥵🥵

oscarpiastri 😘🫶🏻

landonorris you two are disgusting

yourusername no, u

logansargeant i hope you used protection

oscarpiastri mate, wtf

yourusername don’t worry, eagle. we did

oscarpiastri babe, did you have to say it?

yourusername you know i had no choice

mclaren you’re not making our job any easier, y/n - PR

yourusername ooops 🤭

user1 Oscar is wilding man 😭😭

user2 this is the dirtiest post we’re gonna get from him and i’m here for it 💀

oscaaaaahpastry not y/n being scolded by McLaren 💀💀💀😭

lando.norrriiiiizzxxx imagine the PR nightmare she causes behind closed doors we don’t get to see 😭

user3 she’s a menace and i’m here for it 😉😉

user4 we love seeing Oscar being dirty 😩😩

yourusername same

user5 😭😭

user6 she is so unhinged and i love it 😭😭

landonorris atta boy

mclaren Lando, please, don’t make it worse 😭

oscarpiastri 🫢🤭

yourusername we’re sorry, McLaren admin :(

mclaren no, you’re not

yourusername no, we’re not

oscarpiastri we’re really not

maxverstappen1 these photos aren’t doing the night any justice…

yourusername 🤭

oscarpiastri you weren’t any better, shut up

maxverstappen1 🤐

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

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REQUEST HERE

[dumbseee]

soft launch.

in which, mick is soft launching you.

mich schumacher x reader.

fc: sophia birlem.

liked by maxverstappen1, estebanocon, y/n and 789 009 others.

mickschumacher: holiday season 🏝🗺

_

fan1: wait a damn minute…

fan2: WHO IS THAT

fan3: with all due respect you look delicious but WHO is that lovely lady?

fan4: the pic is so cute omg

fan5: whoever that is i hope she’s good to him

fan6: NOT MY HUSBAND

fan7: mick soft launching?

fan8: the rings 🫠

fan9: who is that slut next to mick?

fan10: new wag alert

fan11: those comments are not it, he’s a grown ass man let him be

fan12: i bet he’s going to ditch her after summer ends lmao

view all comments.

_

mickschumacher just posted a story!

y/n just posted a story!

liked by mickschumacher, estebanocon, francisca.cgomes and 240 103 others.

y/n: say hi to mickey <3

_

fan1: YOURE SO BEAUTIFUL OMG

fan2: mick is one lucky mf

fan3: they’re going to break up in a month mark my words

fan4: i’m literally heartbroken rn

fan5: my new parents

fan6: girlie run they’re coming for you

francisca.cgomes: cuties

liked by y/n.

fan7: they compliment each other so well tho

mickschumacher: hi pretty lady

liked by y/n.

fan8: mick i hope you can fight bc your girlfriend is GORG

fan9: the pictures are so cute omg

fan10: the mick girlies already crying in the comments

fan11: he hid her so well wdym he had a whole gf this entire time?

fan12: i’m so happy for him qjjabakzlzm

fan13: thanks for your service y/n, we now have tons of pictures of bf material mick

y/n: 🫡

fan14: the BIG ASS hickey in the first picture wtf

fan15: ew you can tell she’s classless

view all comments.

liked by mickschumacher, lilymhe, carmenmundt and 192 023 others.

y/n: my camera roll is full of cats we met on the street and mickey

_

carmenmundt: ♥️

fan1: their vibe is so chill, they really match each other

fan2: i’m a lil sad that mick is dating someone but she seems nice

estebanocon: i see two owls in that pic

fan3: nooooo they’re so cute

fan4: she’s getting so much hate on twitter but she’s just minding her business??

fan5: WHORE

fan6: don’t worry guys she won’t last till the end of the season 🤭

fan7: the obsession y’all have with random men who don’t even know y’all exist is insane

fan8: so CUTE

fan9: i bet mick paid for everything lmao

mickschumacher: she actually paid the whole trip, i’m just her sugar baby

fan10: JAKQOSPSPPSPSOS BRO

fan11: and that’s how you clap back at haters, guys

fan12: if only others drivers were defending their gfs like mick is defending y/n

view all comments.

liked by mickschumacher, estebanocon, luisinhaoliveira99 and 501 019 others.

y/n: ‘cars outside’ is out :)

_

fan1: not it being a love song for mick :(

fan2: WHY am i crying hysterically about two adults being in love

fan3: "oh darling, all of the city lights, never shine as bright as your eyes." GOD

mickschumacher: why did i do to deserve you?

fan4: they’re so in love it’s almost disgusting

fan5: esteban will have to third wheel now lmao

estebanocon: i’ve been third wheeling for a year now

fan6: A YEAR???

fan7: THEY’VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR A YEAR??

fan8: a year like 365 days? damn schumacher

fan9: nah but hiding a whole gf for a year when you have crazy groupies up your ass every single day is insane

fan10: the cutest couple if you ask me

fan11: i just fell to my knees

fan12: WHEN IS IT MY TURN GODDAMNIT

view all comments.

taglist: @ferrariloverr

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Sibling Rivalry {3}

Pairing: F1 drivers (platonic) x fem!reader Summary: The rift you have caused comes to a destructive head when summer breaks is over. Warnings: 18+ only, lots of bad language, crash, injuries, angst WC: 2.9k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three

Summer Break “I really fucked up.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound hoarse from all the crying. You were curled up on your side on the couch in Pierre’s apartment in Milan, your head on his lap as his hand ran up and down your arm in comfort. “He’s never going to forgive me.”

“He’s your brother, he’ll forgive you,” he assured you once again. “I’ve said way worse things to my brothers. Maybe this break is exactly what you need, get away from Max for a few weeks, have some space.”

“And Lando, and Charles.” You groaned as you rolled onto your back and stared up at your closest friend. “You have a bear in the cave.”

“Gross, don’t look up my nose,” he said as he pushed you off his lap.

“I can’t help it, it’s the angle,” you laughed as you sat up before sobering. “Have you spoken to them?”

“Lando was heading back to Monaco to spend the holidays with Luisa, and Charles was on his way to the Alps to meet up with Charlotte.” 

You sighed at the mention of their girlfriends and Pierre gave you a look of pity that you resented. Pulling your phone out, with the determination to move on from the silly crushes that had developed over the years, you opened the Raya app and shifted closer to him. “Can you help me?”

“Sure,” he said, taking the phone and locking it. “I’m taking you on a road trip.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Ah, but I think it’s what you need.”

Round Fourteen - Netherlands You reunited with the team for Max’s home race and a sea of orange filled the stands, all cheering for their Lion. You had tried to talk to him when you arrived at the track but you didn’t know what to say to repair the rift you had made. Every time you opened your mouth, nothing came out.

“That one’s for you,” Lance said as he tapped your elbow.

“Huh? What? Yeah, totally,” you rambled trying to recover from zoning out thinking about the three weeks of silence, not only with Max but Lando and Charles too. You had sat beside the Canadian on the sofa, the furthest point from the others and it hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Sorry, what was the question?”

“You look like you enjoyed your vacation with Pierre. It was quite different to how you usually spend your down time.”

“Because I was sober?” you teased. “My liver needed a break, as did my PR team, and it was really quite fun. Exactly what I needed actually and it was great to reconnect with Pierre since he upgraded to Yuki.”

You could feel three sets of eyes on you from the other end but then the conversation was diverted their way and you sagged back into the couch. That was until you heard the news that the holiday had been dubbed ‘break-up season’. Both Spaniards had become single in the first week, Logan and Lando in the second and Charles in the third. It had been quite the shock to their fans.

If Pierre hadn't removed your social media for the break you would have known all of this but instead you had to find out on stage with dozens of cameras capturing the surprise on your face. 

The second the interview was over you chased after Lando and finally caught up to him at the McLaren motorhome.

“Hey, can we talk?” You were aware that there were still plenty of cameras around, and it looked like the Netflix crew were scheduled to his team too. “Somewhere private.”

He didn’t exactly look happy at the request but his eyes softened as you quietly begged, “please, Lan?”

“In here,” he sighed, taking his cap off and running a hand through his hair as he opened the door to his room. The door clicked shut behind you and you looked around the small space, the air still humid and smelling like his body wash from the shower he took before the media conference.

“How was your break?” you asked as he sat down on a padded bench, leaving the more comfortable chair for you.

“Could have been better.”

There was a pregnant pause where you both waited for each other to speak. It wasn’t like him to be so short and you thought more would follow but he just stared back at you. 

Clearing your throat, you looked down at your hands on your lap. “I, uh, wanted to apologise for what I said to you. You were just being a good friend and I was a complete bitch.”

“You were a bitch,” he stated bluntly before he bit his lip and mouthed a silent, ‘sorry’ and tucked his knee up so he could rest his cheek on it.

You huffed a laugh of agreement. “I’ve heard that once or twice. I’m a work in progress, but I’m trying to change. Can you forgive me?”

His head lifted with a frown, his soft curls falling over his forehead to meet them. “What? No.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t expected everything to go back to how it was but you had thought he would at least accept your apology. Rising from the chair, you started to make your way to the door until you heard the vinyl bench squeak as he followed.

“Wait,” he said as he caught your hand reaching for the handle. “You were right. So there’s nothing to forgive.” He tugged your hand so you turned to face him before he let it slip through his fingers. “I was unhappy, and I probably should have broken up with Luisa a long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I guess I just didn’t want to be alone again. Which, after you left, I realised is a poor reason to be in a relationship. So I really wasn’t up for offering advice. ” He smiled sheepishly and opened his arms. “Forgive me?”

You stepped into his embrace and buried your head in his neck with a nod. “You were right too.”

“About what?”

“Everything.” You were reluctant to leave the comfort of his arms but there was still one other person to apologise to. “I owe you and Charles for saving my ass. How about dinner at my place on Tuesday?”

“I mean, it was mostly me,” he joked as he puffed his chest up and pushed his shoulders back. “But we can invite him too, I guess.”

“Of course, my hero,” you swooned sarcastically before leaning in and kissed his cheek. “See you next Tuesday. See what I did there?”

“There’s my Spitfire,” he laughed and shook his head. “For a moment I thought you were gone.”

Max’s motorhome was empty when you reached it and so was the garage but his engineer, Calum, was there and said Max had gone to visit family. It hurt more than you expected to hear that you hadn’t been invited, especially since it was Jos’ side of the family that lived in the Netherlands. The side of the family you shared with Max. 

That pain followed you as you wandered around the paddock a little lost, signing autographs and stopping for photos with fans on autopilot. You didn’t know where to go, or how to fill the hours until Max returned. Then when he returned you weren’t even sure he would want to see you after what you said.

“Hey, I’ve called out like three times,” Charles said as he suddenly appeared in front of you and frowned at your startled reaction. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, no, sorry, I’m in a world of my own,” you said as you looked around to see you were outside Ferrari hospitality. “How, uh, how have you been? I meant to call you over the break and thank you for what you and Lando did for me.”

“It’s no problem, but it was mostly me.”

“Funny, he said the exact same thing,” you smirked. “Anyway, as a thank you, you two are coming to my place for dinner on Tuesday. I promise I won’t give you food poisoning, this time.”

“Well, that’s something to look forward to,” he said sarcastically. “But Tuesday works for me. Where were you heading anyway? I thought you would be with Max.”

You couldn’t hide the wince on your face at the mention of your brother and Charles reached out and rubbed your shoulder with a look of concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine. I actually need to go do a thing,” you lied as you started to feel the increasingly familiar burn of tears in your eyes.

“Chérie, wait.” Charles made to follow as you backed away but he stopped when you shook your head.

“Fuck,” you swore under your breath as you turned your back and wiped your eyes. It was race week and your emotions were all over the place, it was a recipe for disaster. 

Race Day

You threw your phone across the room and watched it bounce off the couch before hitting the floor with a crack. You could worry about the broken screen later, with the race only an hour away and Max still ignoring you there were more pressing things to think about.

You worked through your warm up routine under the watchful eye of your physiotherapist before making your way to the reflex machine. The lights danced across the buttons and you slapped each one with precision until it suddenly clicked off. 

“You’re not focused,” Kristian tutted.

“I hit them all,” you argued as you caught the bottle he threw to you and took a drink.

“Reacting out of habit is not the same as responding by reflex. You need to think, then do, not just do.”

You grumbled under your breath about what a load of crap it was but made a show of the next round before he gave up with a sigh. “I’m going to head down to the grid,” you said as you grabbed your helmet and balaclava. “Pierre can help me finish up.”

It was easy to spot Pierre with his PT, his concentration solely on the tennis balls he was focused on catching before they hit the ground. 

“Mind if I butt in?” you asked as you took the tennis balls and replaced Ben. “He still won’t talk to me.” You dropped the balls at the same time and he easily swiped them from the air before tossing it back into your palm.

“You can take my spot for the anthem, I think I saw my name next to his on the seating chart.”

“That’s probably not a good idea,” you admitted as you dropped the balls one after another trying to trick him. “I called him a dick, twice.”

One ball bounced along the asphalt when he laughed, missing the easy catch. “That’s the opposite of apologising.”

“I know, he just pissed me off.” You caught sight of the race suit that matched yours and watched him walk on the far side of the grip with Charles. “I don’t like being ignored.”

Pierre grabbed the wayward tennis ball and returned to hold them up over your hands. “You did start that by ignoring him first.”

“I thought we were friends.” You caught the ball he dropped and tossed it at his face. “You’re meant to take my side.”

He caught it before it could connect with his nose and crossed his arms with an amused smirk on his face. “I am your friend, so I will tell it like it is. Go talk to him.”

 You narrowed your eyes at him as you stepped away and he nodded encouragingly as you made your way across the home straight. 

“Not now,” Max said as soon as you stepped into his field of vision, making Charles look over his shoulder. 

“Then when?” you asked. “After the race? Next week? Next year? Should I put my name up for a transfer? Is that what you want?”

“Woah, what's going on?” Charles asked as watched you grow increasingly more upset with each question.

“Nothing, just an inchident,” Max said coldly. “Oma sends her regards and she’s sorry she didn’t get to see you.”

“You didn’t fucking invite me,” you growled as you stepped closer jabbed a finger into his chest.

Max rolled his eyes and schooled his face to one of boredom. “You told me to leave you alone.”

Your hands balled into fists at your side. “You are such a fucking asshole.”

“Hey, hey, that’s enough,” Charles interrupted, pushing himself between you and your brother before you could get disqualified. “Walk with me.”

Charles stepped closer and his hands grabbed your shoulders, turning you around before one hand pressed against the small of your back, urging you to keep moving. 

“What’s going on?” he asked as he took a seat against the pitwall and pulled you down beside him. “And don’t say it’s nothing. You haven’t been yourself all week.”

“We had an argument and now he hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you.” Charles draped an arm over your shoulder and pulled you closer to kiss your temple. “He’s your older brother, he could never hate you. Trust me, there’s nothing Arthur could say that would make me hate him.”

“Arthur’s too nice to say anything mean, but me? I’m a bitch.”

“You’re not a bitch, you’re just passionate.” He let his head fall back against the wall with a chuckle. “I like that about you.”

“You must be the only one.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he murmured quietly and you followed his line of sight to Lando who was making his way over while everyone else started to move to the front of the grid. “Time to go.”

Charles stood up as Lando offered you his hand, pulling you to your feet.

“Try not to get too excited hearing the Dutch anthem,” you grumbled, earning a laugh from both of them as they fell into step either side of you, “again.”

You were driving recklessly, determined to beat Max, but it had meant receiving a black and white flag warning for exceeding the track limits three times. One more violation and you would get a five second penalty, practically handing the win over on a silver platter.

“You need to manage your tires,” Nicholas warned over the radio. “You are pushing them too hard, the degradation rate is exponential. They won’t last to the end of the race unless you slow down and stay between the white lines.”

“I can’t slow down when I have Max with DRS behind me.”

“That’s not the plan. We want a 1-2 finish, it doesn’t matter who leads across the line.”

“It does to me.”

You passed the next DRS detection line and took the corner at speed before hitting the straight and trying to defend your position. Max was right at your bumper, riding the slipstream as he increased speed in preparation to slingshot out and past you. 

Only something went wrong.

Instead of going around you, Max’s front wing crashed into the back of your car, lifting your rear wheels off the track and sending you scraping the length of the pit wall while he spun out. Debris hit your helmet as Max’s car slammed into the concrete barriers and carbon fibre splintered apart, raining over you and the track. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you growled into the comms as you pulled your steering console out and unbuckled the harness. You jumped over the side of your car and ran towards Max’s, hurling abuse at him the entire way. “Who’s the spoiled brat now? You just couldn’t let me have the win could you? Dick!”

A pained groan was all you heard from the cockpit and the anger evaporated in an instant as dreaded fear replaced it. You leapt onto the top of the car and reached over the halo, pulling the visor up on Max’s helmet to see a dazed look in his icy blue eyes before they fluttered shut. 

“Max, I need you to open your eyes. Look at me, dammit!” you growled as you started to pull his harness open and looked around wildly, wondering when help was coming. “I’m sorry for everything I said. I don’t hate you, okay? I don’t hate you. You’re my big brother and I love you, so you have to stick around and be overprotective and piss me off for a very long time. So open your fucking eyes!”

“Zusje?” he asked after a moment of blinking dumbly. “What happened?”

“You forgave me and said I could borrow your yacht.”

“Bullshit,” he groaned as he pushed his harness off his shoulders and accepted your hand to help him climb out. “I would never let you borrow my yacht.”

A groan wheezed out as his boots hit the ground and you wrapped an arm around his waist to take his weight, holding him steady. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

“Only if I can get a recording of your radio, you actually sounded worried for me,” he said with a laugh before he clutched his ribs. “Ow, fuck.”

“Of course I was worried, asshole. I thought you were hurt.”

“I am hurt,” he pointed out before rapping his knuckles on your helmet. “I love you too, little sis. Even when you say you hate me.”

Click here for Not A Verstappen: Gridlock {1}.

Tagging: @destourtereaux @severerebelearthquake @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @omgsuperstarg @mvclff1 @alwaysclassyeagle @icantcomeupwithamusicalname-blog @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky

[only-luce-the-goose]

a request for arthur where he found out the bad news about not getting a seat in F2 and the reader spends time comforting him and cheering him up. thank you🫶🫶

Seat-Less

A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy it🫶🏻 (I made it F1 just because I know a bit more about it, and not all facts are true)

Arthur Leclerc x reader

Synopsis: ⬆️⬆️⬆️

Warning: sad Arthur ☹️

Arthur’s manager had been talking to every team that had an open seat, with each one choosing a driver over Arthur. Ferrari had even picked Ollie for their new seat, replacing Dino as their reserve driver. Ollie got the call from his manager around lunch time. He had a week off and was spending it on your shared apartment in Monaco.

You were having lunch together on the balcony when Arthur’s phone went off. “Hello” he answered. He nodded, humming here and there. I could see his face drop and his eyes begin to water. You reached your hand out to his one the table, linking your fingers. “Merci, merci” he said as he ended the phone call.

Tears streamed down his cheeks when he looked up at you and sobbed, “I don’t have a seat this year, baby. They’ve all been filled” you quickly moved next to him, sitting on the armrest of his chair. His arms wound around your face and he buried his face in your neck. You ran your nails over his back, neck and scalp to soothe him. “Oh, Arty” you sighed, letting him cry.

After his tear ducts started to dry up he moved his face away from your neck, still holding on to you. “What do I do? I won’t be racing this year. I finished F2, I was the champion but I am not good for F1, no?” He asked you, doe brown eyes starting into yours. “I don’t know my love, why don’t we call Charles and see if he has any ideas?” Arthur just nodded his head.

You pulled your phone from the table and clicked on Charles contact. He answered on the third ring “ahh y/n, how are you?” You smiled at his good mood, not sure how he would react to the news. “I’m ok Charlie, I’ve just got a question for you” you told him. “Hit me with it” he responded.

“Arty’s manager just called and informed us that Arthur does not have a seat for the next season. Every spot has been filled, and Arty didn’t make the cut. Since he won the F2 championship last year, he won’t be racing this season. I thought we could call you and see if you know any ways we could still get him in a car this?”

"Oh brother, I am so sorry" Charle's mood dampened immediately. He sighed on the other end of the line "I can try and talk to some people to see if they would like a second reserve or a test driver. Otherwise, I don't know what to do Arthur." You looked to Arthur to see him zoned out. "That would be amazing, thank you so much Charlie" you said to him. "I'll do the best I can, y/n. Goodbye for now" he replied. "Bye" Arthur mumbled.

You placed your phone down and turned back to Arthur, "Why don't we go cuddle in bed? We can order pizza and watch your favorite show. Not getting a seat this year doesn't have to be the end of the world. You can spend the ear training really hard and put yourself out there again next silly season"

Arthur nodded, mumbling a "thank you" as you stood him up. You linked your hands together and made your way to your bed. You called the pizza place, being told the driver would arrive in half an hour. You put on Arthur's favorite show, letting him cuddle into your chest. You wrapped your arms around him, giving him a little squeeze. He looked up at you, giving you the perfect opportunity to plant a kiss on his lips.

"I love you, Arty. We're going to get through this, together" you mumbled to him. "I love you too, y/n. More than you know" Arthur moved his head back down, wriggling impossibly closer, a feeling of safety washing over him. He could do anything with you by his side.

[dianawinchester03]

Season 2, Episode 22 - All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 2

Series Masterlist

Author’s Note: Hi beauties! Quick disclaimer, a lot of the scenes in this episode have songs that inspired it. Soooo, I’ll interrupt for a few seconds every now and then to tell you. Thank you for reading!

The first song inspo is Let The World Burn by Chris Grey:)

____________________________________________

Third Person POV

Y/N’s cold lifeless body laid on the old mattress, her head lolled to the side, her features relaxed. Dean leaned on the door framed, a distant and heartbroken expression coated his face as Sam and Jo sat by the bedside. Sam was still in hysterics, the guilt of her death weighing on his chest.

Losing Y/N was one thing, but losing her to a knife that was meant for him. It was heart wrenching for Sam Winchester. He remembered the day she came to him about the dream she had and he told her not to worry about it. They summed it up to the stress of the job. God he felt stupid.

Jo was trying to console a guilt and grief-laden Sam, but she wasn’t far behind. First losing Ash, not having any idea where her mom could be since they didn’t find her body in the rubble and now losing Y/N right in front of their eyes?

Dean was quiet, standing with his arms crossed against the door frame. He felt numb. He couldn't even bring himself to cry. The pain was too intense, too overwhelming. He just stood there in silence, watching as Sam and Jo tried to comfort each other.

‘I shouldn't have fallen in love’

‘Look what it made me become’

‘I let you get too close’

Sam's tears kept falling as he sat next to Y/N. He couldn't bear the weight of the guilt and the grief. He felt responsible for her death, like he should have done something, anything to stop it.

Dean couldn't bear to look at her lifeless body anymore. He had to look away, the sight of her cold, pale skin was too much for him to bear. He stood silently outside the door, watching as Sam and Jo sat by her bedside.

Dean knew that Sam was going through guilt, he could see it in his brother's face. But Dean couldn't bring himself to offer any comfort. He was too lost in his own guilt and grief to even think of comforting his brother.

“Kids?” Bobby’s voice echoed through the house as the door opened. None of them answered, Jo just continued to rub Sam’s back as his sobs lessened, wiping away her own tears. “I brought you this back,” Bobby told them, holding up two bags with food boxes.

“No, thanks, I’m fine” Dean muttered in a deadpan tone. “Y’all should eat something,” Bobby insisted. Jo and Sam didn't respond either, they all just sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Sam’s sobs reduced to soft sniffles as Jo comforted him, her own tears continuing to fall silently.

Dean clenched his jaw, keeping his gaze on the ground. “We’re fine, Bobby,” Jo assured him softly. Dean padded over to the table, picking up the whiskey before taking a large swig of it. They were out of earshot from Sam and Jo. Bobby watched as Dean downed the whiskey, his eyes fixed on the younger man's face.

He could sense the pain and grief etched on his features. He knew Dean was struggling, dealing with the loss of Y/N in his own way. Bobby looked at him, his expression sympathetic. He could tell that Dean was hurting. It was painfully obvious how much he loved her. "Dean..." Bobby began, his voice gentle yet firm.

“I hate to bring this up. I really do. But don’t you think maybe it’s time…we bury Y/N” Bobby said quietly. Dean's head slowly moved up, his eyes burning with anger and pain, but at the same time, we looked dead in the eyes. "No," he huffed. "Absolutely not." His hand tightened on the bottle of whisky, resisting the urge to throw it against the wall.

Bobby's eyes narrowed, understanding the grief and anger that drove Dean's response. “Dean, you can’t keep her here forever,” he said firmly, his voice gentle but steady.

The room fell silent as the weight of Bobby's words hung in the air. It was a harsh reality, one that Dean didn't want to face. Sam heard a murmur of their conversation, telling Jo he’ll be right back before placing a kiss on her hand and stepping out of the room.

“Bobby’s right, Dean” Sam sniffled, his eyes puffy and red. Dean clenched his jaw tighter. He knew Sam and Bobby were right, but he couldn't bring himself to let go. The thought of burying Y/N, saying goodbye forever, was unbearable. "I'm not burying her," he growled, his knuckles turning white from his tight grip on the whisky bottle. "Not happening."

Jo stepped out of the room, “Well maybe we can-” She started to suggest, her voice groggy. “What? Torch her corpse?” Dean snapped, sitting on one of the old chairs before taking another swig of the whiskey. Sam and Jo were taken aback by Dean's harsh tone. They understood that he was grieving, but his words were like a punch to the gut.

“That’s not what she would want, Dean,” Jo said quietly, her voice shaking slightly. Dean let out a bitter laugh. “You think you know what she would want? You think anyone knows what she would want?” He stood up from the chair, pacing around the room like a caged animal.

Jo gritted her teeth, “She was my friend too!” She shouted back, pointing to herself, her voice cracking. “No, she was family!” Dean retorted loudly, his voice echoing through the room. "She wasn't just some friend! She was my.." His throat felt like it was closing up, his voice stuck. He couldn't say the word.

Tears welled up in his eyes, despite his best efforts to hold them back. He clenched his fists, hating that he was showing weakness. Dean turned away from Sam and Jo, unable to look at their sympathetic expressions any longer. “She had a vision” Sam muttered as he leaned against the table.

Sam's words made Dean stop pacing, his head snapping towards him. "What did you say?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Sam took in a shaky breath, "She had a vision, well- a dream. She- she saw me get killed months ago. We talked about it and we decided it was a dream because it wasn’t clear and we were all stressed. I think she had the same vision last night….before she..." Sam’s words got caught in his throat.

Dean’s heart dropped, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of it all. Sam was right. Y/N had a vision and she sacrificed herself for him. “She took the hit for me” Sam chuckled dryly, his heart aching in his chest.

Dean's eyes softened, a mix of guilt and sadness overcoming him. He knew that Sam was beating himself up for Y/N taking the fall for him. The weight of the guilt seemed to be crushing Sam.

"It’s not your fault" Dean said quietly, his voice thick with raw emotion. He didn’t want Sam to blame himself for this. He knew Y/N would never want that. Dean thought for a moment before fishing his keys out of his pocket, tossing it over to Jo.

Jo caught the keys in her hand, looking at him with a puzzled expression. "What are these for?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly. Dean didn’t look at her, his eyes still focused on the ground. "Take Baby. Just go” Dean said firmly. He had made up his mind on what he wanted to do.

"Where are you going?" Bobby asked, his eyes narrowing. He knew that look in Dean's eyes. He knew that whatever idea that was forming in his head was dangerous and ill-considered. “Nowhere. Sam, Jo. Go.” He gritted his teeth, pointing at the door.

"We’re not going anywhere without you," Bobby stepped in firmly, his arms crossed over his chest. “Would you guys cut me some slack?!” Dean bursted out in rage. “We just don’t think you should be alone, that’s all” Bobby shot back. Dean glared at him, shooting Sam a warning look that said, ‘Go, now. I’m serious’

‘Fear in their eyes’

‘Ash raining from the blood orange sky’

‘I let everybody know that you're mine’

‘Now it's just a matter of time’

Sam understood the look Dean gave him. He sighed, his shoulders sagged in defeat. He knew how stubborn his brother could be. He gave Jo a pleading look, silently communicating to her. Jo’s expression was conflicted, she wanted to stay, to fight for Dean, but she also knew that there were some battles that Dean needed to fight alone.

Jo nodded obediently, sighing heavily. She stuffed Dean’s keys into her pocket, taking Sam’s hand into hers to lead him back to the room where Y/N’s body laid. She wanted to say one last goodbye.

Sam and Jo walked silently back to the room where y/n’s body lay on the bed. Sam's expression was one of despair as they approached the bed. He looked down at her lifeless form, the weight of his guilt pressing heavily on his chest.

Jo laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, giving him a sad smile. "Say your goodbye" she whispered softly. Sam nodded, taking a deep breath. He took a step closer to the bed, his eyes filled with tears. He laid a trembling hand on Y/N's cold cheek, his heart aching in his chest.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice shaky. "You didn’t deserve this. I should have listened to your dream, and I’m so sorry." He bent down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. Jo stood silently at the bedside, her own tears streaming down her face.

She watched as Sam said his goodbyes, the pain of the moment palpable in the room. As Sam stepped back, Jo stepped forward, laying a hand on Y/N's cold arm. "I’ll miss you, slut" she whispered, a sad smile on her face. "You were a hell of a woman."

She leaned down, tenderly kissing Y/N’s forehead as Sam had done before. “Tell mom and Ash hi for me. Thanks for letting me know what it’s like to have a sister” Jo’s voice broke. She had lost all hope of her mom being alive, and it tore her apart. It took God power for the huntress to keep it together.

Jo opted for Sam to walk out first, placing her hand at the small of his back. Sam glanced over his shoulder at the dingy old bed where she laid one last time, “See you on the flip side, crackhead” and with that they left Y/N behind, her cold lifeless body motionless on the bed.

-

After Jo and Sam left, Dean was still sitting on the chair. His eyes shooting straight at the bed Y/N was on. Bobby was still with him, “Dean..” Dean's eyes didn't leave the bed. He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. The silence in the room was deafening. He knew that Bobby was trying to talk to him, trying to make him see reason, but he didn’t want to hear it.

“I gotta admit. I could use your help” Bobby confessed. Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes as he took a swig of his whiskey again. “Something big is going down. End of the world big” Bobby pressed. “Well, THEN LET IT END!!l Dean bellowed, his head snapping up to face Bobby.

‘I'd let the world burn’

‘Let the world burn for you’

‘This is how it always had to end’

‘If I can't have you then no one can’

‘I'd let it burn’

‘I'd let the world burn’

‘Just to hear you calling out my name’

‘Watching it all go down in flames’

Bobby's eyes widened in surprise at Dean's outburst, but he quickly recovered, his expression turning stern again. "You don’t mean that," he gasped. Dean's jaw ticked, his grip on the bottle of whiskey tightening. He pushed himself up from the chair in an instant, going toe to toe with the veteran hunter.

“You don’t think so? Huh? You don’t think I’ve given enough?….You don’t think I’ve paid enough?” With his last statement, he nodded his head towards the bed Y/N laid on. Bobby's face softened as he saw the pain and anger etched on Dean’s face. He knew that he wasn’t just talking about the apocalypse, but also about Y/N.

“I’m done with it. All of it. Now, if you know what’s good for you, turn around and get the hell out of here” Dean’s breathing was heavy, his chest heaving with anger. He was done with all the fighting, the pain, the loss. He just wanted it to end, one way or another. Bobby stood his ground, not backing away. So Dean shoved the elder Hunter harshly, “GO!!!”

Bobby stumbled a bit, taken aback by Dean’s sudden aggression. Heartbreak was written all over Bobby’s face, Dean instantly felt guilty. At the back of his mind, he could feel the ghost of a tap at the back of his head that Y/N would give him for his actions just a few seconds ago.

“I’m sorry” Dean apologized but he didn’t take his words back. He was too angry, too distraught. He didn’t want to feel anything anymore, he wanted to be left alone. Bobby stayed quiet, unsure of what to do or say further. His head spun as he took up the bottle again,

“I’m sorry” Dean’s tone dropped, coming out almost like a whimper. “Please just go” He begged as he gripped the chair for balance. Bobby watched for a moment, his heart aching. He knew that Dean was hurting, that he was struggling to process what happened. But he also knew that Dean was in a dark place and that being alone was not the best thing for him.

But Bobby also knew that pushing him would only make things worse. So, with a heavy heart, he turned and walked towards the door, casting one last glance back at Dean, “You know where I’ll be, son.” before stepping out into the night.

Dean's shoulders sagged as soon as the door shut behind Bobby. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, only the sound of his ragged breathing could be heard. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the reality of what was happening around him. Y/N was dead.

He opened his eyes again and looked at the bed again, her lifeless body laid on it. A single tear falling from his eye.

-

A few hours had passed and it was nearing midnight. Dean had almost finished the bottle, checking the time on his watch every few minutes. Getting lost in his own thoughts.

11:54 pm.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off of the bed, his chair now sat in front of Y/N’s side. “You know, when we were little…you and Sam couldn’t have been more than 5…you guys just started asking questions.” A small sad smile broke out on Dean’s face, “How come we didn’t have a mom? How come you didn’t have a mom? We did we always have to move around from safehouse to motel. Where’d our dads go?…They’d take off for days at a time, I remember I begged you”

He took a huge gulp of whiskey, letting the liquid slide down his throat. The burning sensation barely registered as he struggled to keep talking. “Quit asking, princess. Stop talking about it, Sammy. Man, you don’t wanna know” Dean scoffed as he repeated his words as a child to them.

“I just wanted you to be kids. Just for a little while longer. But you weren’t stupid. You had to grow up at such a young age, you never said no when it came to standing up for Sammy in school. Hell- you never said no when it came to kicking our asses in sparring practice” Dean chuckled dryly.

“I remember when F/N hauled my ass from across the country, going batshit crazy looking for you when you ran away. I led the man on a wild goose chase for months” Dean shook his head, “When he finally realized, he told me, ‘I know you’ve been running me around son. And while I don’t appreciate it, I know you’re just doing it because you love and care about my baby.’” Dean repeated F/N’s words to him.

“I was honestly surprised those words came out of the man’s mouth. I was half expecting him to clock me a few until I spilled the beans.” Dean chuckled dryly as he sniffled. “And you…” Dean’s voice cracked, his heart clenching in his chest. He took another gulp of whiskey, trying to drown the lump in his throat.

“You were always there, ever since we were little. Always watching out for us. Saving me from getting my ass kicked by dad and f/n. Keeping Sammy safe. That time you made me clean a whole damn motel floor when I was 16 because I called you something you didn’t like.” He let out a shaky exhale as he remembered the memory. His mind then went back to the night F/N died, a guilt raising in his chest.

“The night your dad died, I yelled and went off on him for not being there when you were electrocuted. And then he ended up getting killed…..it’s been on me ever since because you’ve been so hurt and distant since your dad died…..and you blame yourself meanwhile I’m the one that screamed at him…..I practically put that machete in the vampires hand because it was Sam’s machete she picked up and killed f/n with…..the same one I put down when Luther had his hand around your neck.” Dean choked on his own breath as he confessed to her corpse.

His eyes stung with tears as he continued, guilt and shame filling his heart. He reached out a shaky hand, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“I know you wouldn’t blame me,” he whispered, his voice quivered. “You never blamed me for anything, even when you had every right too. That’s just how you were.” A tear rolled down his cheek, his hand cupped her cheek.

“I always tried to protect you two. Keep y’all safe. Dad and F/N didn’t even have to tell me. It was just always my responsibility, you know? It’s like I had one job…that one job. And I fucked it up. In the end, you were the one protecting us.” His voice broke and he leaned forward, pressing his hands to the bed. Tears welled up in Dean’s eyes.

“I blew it. And for that I’m sorry.” Dean brought his hand up to wipe his tears away. “I guess that’s what I do. I let down the people I love. I let Dad down. I let F/N down. I let Sammy down. And now, I guess I’m just supposed to let you down too….how can I? How am I supposed to live with that?”

He buried his face in his free hand, the other still cradling her cheek as he sobbed silently. The weight of his failures pressed heavily on his shoulders, the guilt and regret were almost unbearable. He felt like he was drowning, lost in his own torment. “I’m sorry, baby,” he repeated again and again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so damn sorry.”

He stayed like that for a few more minutes, crying silently as he held onto her. The alcohol in him didn’t help, it only made his tears flow more freely. He felt like the lowest scum known to man, and he couldn’t stop blaming himself for everything that happened.

He wanted to scream, to punch something, to do anything to make the pain go away. But he just sat there, his shoulders shaking with the force of his sobs.

“What am I supposed to do?” left his lips in a mournful whisper. “WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!” He exploded, aiming the bottle of whiskey at the wall. The bottle shattered into pieces, the liquid staining the surface of the wall as it dripped down. It felt good to release some of his anger, but it didn’t fix anything.

He looked back at her, his chest heaving. But there was no comfort in her sight anymore. She was just so goddamn still. She wasn’t supposed to be this still. Not Y/N. She was always full of energy, always laughing and joking.

Dean checked the time on his watch one last time.

12:02 am

His heart shattered, he slowly padded over to the dirty old mattress before taking the golden heart-shaped locket resting on the base of her chest into his fingers, prying it open. The locket opened in his hand, revealing two photos inside. One side held F/N, M/N, John and Mary in their younger days, all standing in-front of Dean’s childhood home in Lawrence.

The other was a picture of the trio as teens, right before Sam left for college. All in their hunting gear, leaning against the Impala, a big smirk on her face and an arm slung around his shoulders, his arm wrapped around her waist, a rare smile on his face. Sam wore a giant grin himself, mainly because Y/N threatened to put Nair in his shampoo again if he didn’t smile for the picture.

His heart sank as he looked at the photos, his fingers trembling as they traced over them. He gently pressed the locket to his forehead, his eyes closing as the memories flooded through him. He could practically hear her laughter in the air, see the sparkle in her eyes as she teased him.

“Happy Birthday, princess,” he whispered. The words choked up in his throat, his hand clutched the locket tightly in his hand.

-

Author's Note: For more effect, listen to Don’t Blame Me by Taylor Swift when reading this;)

-

The Harley’s engine roared to life, the sound filled the empty town as Dean snapped on Y/N’s helmet and peeled out from where Jo had parked her. He vaguely remembered passing a crossroads on their way here, he had his mind made up earlier, but he was for certain now.

The cold night air hit his face as the Harley zoomed down the empty roads. His grip on the handle tightened, his mind set on what he was going to do.

‘Something happened for the first time, in’

‘The darkest little paradise’

‘Shakin, pacin', I just need you’

Soon the crossroads came into view and he made the bike halt to a stop, the gravel crunching beneath his boots as he stepped off. He then hurriedly dug into Y/N’s hatchback, taking out all the means necessary to summon a crossroad’s demon.

Luckily, since Y/N was getting more in tune with her psychic side. She had the materials on hand. Unknowing that Dean was gonna do this. He walked over to the middle of the intersection and looked around, the place was still and eerily quiet.

He then knelt down onto the ground, his heart was hammering anxiously in his chest the entire time he worked. The thought of seeing Y/N again pushed him to continue.

‘For you, I would cross the line’

‘I would waste my time’

‘I would lose my mind’

He began to dig into the ground with his hands, stuffing the box in once the hole was big enough before covering it back up with the dirt. Dean stood back up, impatiently waiting as his head swung around in all directions. “All right then, you sons of bitches,” he muttered, his voice wavering. “I know you can hear me.”

“Oh come on already” He muttered, “SHOW YOUR FACE YOU BITCH!!” He bellowed. “Easy, sugar, you’ll wake the neighbors” The sultry voice of a woman said behind him. He whirled around to face the owner of the voice. Sure enough, a figure was standing a few feet behind him. A tall, slender and busty woman with sharp features and a wide smile.

Her eyes flashed red before reverting back to its original brown color. “Dean” The demon smiled widely. “It is so, so good to see you” She smirked, stepping closer to the elder Winchester. “I mean it. Look at you. Gone and got your little girlfriend killed. All alone in the world. Your brother probably hates your guts and wants nothing to do with you…it’s too sweet” The demon verbally tormented him.

He clenched his jaw, the demon’s words stung like a thousand needles. It felt like she was rubbing salt in his open wound and enjoying every second of it. But he wasn’t gonna let her get to him.

She leaned in to whisper in his ear as she circled around him. “Excuse me, you’re gonna have to give me a moment. Sometimes you gotta stop and smell the roses” The demon giggled. “I should send you straight back to hell” Dean growled as he turned his head to face her.

“Oh, you should. But you won’t” The demon pointed out, her tone low and lustful. Dean grimaced in disgust, hating the fact that she was right. “And I know why,” She added, walking around him. “Oh, yeah?” Dean challenged, turning to face her again. “Yeah. Following in daddy’s footsteps. You wanna make a deal” The demon called him out.

He gritted his teeth, his body tensing up as the demon’s words hit all the right chords. The mention of John still stung and left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Little Y/N/N, back from the dead. And, let me guess, you’re offering up your own soul” She smirked, the sarcasm dripping from her tone. “There are a hundred other demons who’d love to get their hands on it” Dean shot back. The demon chuckled, rolling her eyes. “And it’s all yours. All you gotta do is bring Y/N back. You give me 10 years. Ten years and then you come for me” He knew that he was desperate and the demon knew it too.

“You must be joking” The demon scoffed. “It’s the same deal you give everybody else” Dean snapped, swallowing the lump in his throat. The demon simply tilted her head to the side, raising an eyebrow as if she was looking at something particularly amusing.

“You’re not everybody else” she shot back, stepping closer to whisper in his ear. “Why would I wanna give you anything?” Her breath fanned on the shell of his ear and down his neck. Dean exhaled, trying to keep his temper in check, “Keep your gutter soul, it’s too tarnished anyway” She added with disgust.

Dean clenched his fists, the anger in him was starting to boil up. The thought of seeing Y/N again, of seeing her beautiful eyes or smile again was tearing him apart. He gritted his teeth, taking deep breaths to keep his anger in check “Nine years” he offered.

“No” The demon denied, stepping back. “Eight” Dean shot back. “You keep going, I’ll keep saying no” The demon chuckled sadistically. Frustration was slowly building up in him, he knew this wasn’t going to be easy or pleasant. “Okay, five years. Five years, then my bill comes due. That’s my last offer. Five years or no deal” Dean persisted, his jaw tensing.

The demon smiled, her eyes flashing red for a second. She leaned in as if she was about to kiss him but whispered against his lips, “Then no deal” His heart sank, his final hope being cut short by the demon’s words. He felt a mixture of anger and despair wash over him. Without Y/N, he felt lost, empty, alone. He tried to push down the wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

“Fine” He whispered, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. “Fine” The demon smirked, pulling away before moving around him to walk away. “Make sure you bury Y/N before she starts stinking up the joint” She cackled as she walked away.

The demon’s words stung like a dagger through his heart. Her words were cruel, heartless and aimed to hurt. And they did. But he pushed back the pain, forcing himself to hold it together. “Wait!” he called out to her.

The demon paused in her tracks and turned her head to look at him. “It’s a fire sale and everything must go” She said mockingly. “What do I have to do?” Dean asked, the desperation clear in his tone. The demon rolled her eyes, “First of all, quit groveling. Needy guys are such a turn off.” She snorted, walking back to face him. “Look. Look, I shouldn’t be doing this. I could get in a lot of trouble” She sighed.

“But what can I say? I got a blind spot for you, Dean.” She inhaled through her teeth. “You’re like a puppy, you’re just too fun to play with” The demon sighed deeply, studying Dean’s face. “I’ll do it” She caved. “You’ll bring her back?” Dean gaped. “I will. And because I’m such a saint. I’ll give you one year and only one year” She nodded.

Relief washed over him like a tidal wave. Hearing the demon agree to bring Y/N back lifted a huge weight off his chest. But then the realization of what he had just agreed to sink in. One year. He was essentially handing over his soul to a demon in exchange for Y/N’s life. But he had no choice. He would do anything to get her back.

“But here’s the thing. If you try to welch or weasel your way out, then the deal is off. Y/N drops dead, she’s back to rotten meat in no time. And I’ll take Sammy too, just for good measure” The demon threatened, Dean gulped at her promise. “So, it’s a better deal than your dad ever got. What do you say?” She smirked.

‘Oh Lord, save me, my drug is my baby’

‘I'll be usin' for the rest of my life’

‘Usin' for the rest of my life, ohh-oh’

He exhaled, knowing that he didn’t have a choice. He can’t leave Y/N dead, and not at the cost of Sam’s life too. Even if it would damn his own soul. So with that he snatched the demon roughly from behind her neck, pressing his lips to hers to seal the deal.

‘Don't blame me, love made me crazy’

‘If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right (doin' it right, no)’

‘Lord, save me, my drug is my baby’

‘I'll be usin' for the rest of my life (oh)’

The demon was surprised at first but she quickly pressed herself against him, kissing him back with fervor. It was deep, hungry, and full of desperation on the demon’s side. The deal was completed, sealed with a kiss.

-

Authors Note: This next scene’s song inspo is Reflections by The Neighborhood (mainly just one line lol)

-

‘Where have you been?’

‘Do you know when you're coming back?’

Back in the old house, Y/N’s eyes shot open, gasping awake from her ‘deathly nap’. With a grunt she sat up, her eyes searching frantically in the dark room. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. The last thing she remembered was telling the boys how much she loved them and everything went black.

She looked around her, disoriented and confused. Where the hell was she? She knew she had gotten stabbed, right in her back, literally. She realized she still had her leather jacket on and quickly peeled it off.

She winced as she tugged on the clothes, trying to not to irritate any possible injury on her back. Once she removed her jacket, she pushed herself off of the dirty old bed and padded over to the mirror on the wall. She then pulled her shirt up to observe the area where she was stabbed.

Her skin was no longer wounded but smooth and unmarred. Her finger traced where her anti possession tattoo layed. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she ran her fingers over the spot where the knife had pierced her. There was nothing. No scratch, no cut, not even a scar. Nothing but a red mark that seemed to be forming into a giant bruise.

The sound of the door opening made her ears perk up. Y/N slowly let her shirt fall back down to cover her stomach as the door was pushed open. She turned to see who was standing in the doorway.

‘We were too close to the stars’

‘I never knew somebody like you, somebody’

Her heart skipped several beats as she saw him standing in the doorway. The deep emerald orbs held a mix of disbelief and relief that mirrored her own. “Y/N/N?” Dean gasped, relief filling his body at the fact that the demon kept her end of the bargain. “Hey” Y/N breathed out, still confused. “Thank God” Dean was close to tears again as he rushed over to her.

He wasted no time in pulling her into his arms, crushing her against his chest. It was as if he was trying to convince himself that she was real, that she was okay. He buried his face into her hair, inhaling her scent as he held her tightly.

‘Falling just as hard’

‘I'd rather lose somebody than use somebody’

She was bewildered by his display of affection, but she didn’t resist. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him just as tightly. Her eyes fluttered shut as she melted into his embrace. She could feel the tension and worry emanating from him like a wave.

Dean pulled away to look at her clearly, cupping her cheek in his hand. He couldn’t stop him from what he was about to do. Dean leaned down and kissed her forehead, then her cheek, then her nose. “Thank god…thank god” Dean muttered as he peppered kisses all over her face.

‘Maybe it's a blessing in disguise (I sold my soul for you)’

‘I see my reflection in your eyes’

He was almost desperately clinging on to her like he was afraid that she would slip right out of his arms. Y/N now utterly taken back. Her heart was pounding in her chest as Dean showered her with kisses. The way he looked at her, held her, it was as if he thought he'd never get to touch her again.

She melted into his embrace again, relishing the feeling of his lips against her skin. It was tender and gentle, full of a love and longing she hadn't seen from him before. A feeling she had been dying to witness.

“Uh, Dean-” Y/N chuckled, groaning a bit from the pain in her back. Dean stopped when he heard her grumble in pain. “Sorry, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m just- I’m just happy to see you up and around, that’s all” He apologized, smiling. She chuckled again, nodding, wincing as she felt the pain in her back flare up.

“Come on, sit down” Dean ushered her back to the bed, helping her sit down. “Okay.” she breathed out, “Dean, what happened to me?” Y/N asked, groaning as Dean sat next to her. “Well, what do you remember?” Dean asked, now having to choose his words carefully.

She closed her eyes, trying to remember the last thing that happened to her. It was all a bit hazy and her head throbbed as she tried to focus.

“I remember…I had a vision of Sam getting stabbed. And I pushed him out of the way. Then- then I told you boys how much I loved you…and um…” She said slowly, deciding to choose her words carefully. “Then I felt this pain. This sharp pain, like white hot, you know? It hurt like hell and then…darkness”

Dean nodded as he listened to her recalling the events of last night. “Yeah, that- that kid went to stab Sam in his back. But you took the hit, you lost a lot of blood. You know, it was pretty touch and go for a while” he lied, his heart tightening at the thought of what happened. He reached out and placed his hand on her leg, giving it a comforting squeeze.

Y/N’s brows furrowed, “Charming, you can’t patch up a wound that bad. I mean, I thought I was a goner” She pointed out. “No, Bobby could. And Jo used that witchy spell book you have hidden in your hatchback, grinded up some herbs and bam” Dean lied again, hoping she took the bait.

Y/N looked at him skeptically for a moment but nodded again. She wasn’t sure if she believed everything he said because she never thought Jo the spell for the healing balm she had been working on concocting but she had no reason to doubt him. Plus her head hurt enough, she didn’t feel like questioning everything he was saying.

“Who was that kid anyway?” Dean asked, changing the subject. “His names Jake” Y/N frowned. “Did you get him?” She asked. “No. He disappeared into the woods” Dean told her, “We gotta find him, Dean” Y/N’s blood began boiling as she thought of Jake. “And I swear, I’m gonna tear that son of a bitch apart” She snarled as she tried to get up.

Dean quickly grabbed her shoulders, gently pushing her back down to sit. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy Van Damme” He scolded her, raising a brow. “You just woke up. Let’s get you something to eat, alright? Huh? You want something to eat?” Despite the pain in her back, Y/N’s stomach growled loudly at the mention of food.

As if reacting on cue, she nodded, not allowing her eyes to meet his. Dean smiled, “I’m starving” Y/N chuckled at his words as he offered her his hand. She took his hand, her slender fingers wrapping around his much larger ones as she stood up. “Can we get a cookie?” She asked him, grinning widely as she flashed him her signature puppy dog eyes.

Despite the intensity of the situation, Dean cracked a smile at her request. “We can get you all the cookies you want, princess” he quipped, chuckling at the way she looked up at him with her pleading eyes.

-

Y/N was giving Dean the rundown of the event from the previous night. “And that’s when you guys showed up” Y/N said with a mouth stuffed with cookies, a mostly empty pizza box laid out on the grass in an empty park where they sat, enjoying their food.

Dean nodded as he listened to her retelling the story, his arms resting on his bent knees as he sat on the grass next to her. He had a slice of pizza in his hands, his eyes fixed on her as she spoke, his heart aching in his chest at what she and Sam had gone through.

“That’s awful. Poor Andy” Dean muttered. “Demon said he only wanted one of us to walk out alive.” Y/N told him, sipping her soda. “He told you that?” Dean asked, biting into his pizza. “Yup” Y/N nodded, “Appeared in a dream” She scoffed, “He tell you anything else?” Dean asked.

Her mind went back to when the demon revealed to her that she and Sam had demon blood in them. But she couldn’t tell Dean that. The dude already mocked her for being psychic relentlessly, she didn’t want him to see her as even more of a freak. As much as the mockery was playful, the thought of him seeing her as a freak was heartbreaking for her.

“No. No, that was it, nothing else” Y/N quickly shook her head in response. Dean nodded again, his eyes scanning her face. Part of him was suspicious. He could tell she was lying, her eyes avoided his gaze for a moment and she responded a little too quickly. But he chose not to press on it.

“You know, what I don’t get, is that if the demon only wanted one of us…how did Jake, Sam and I all get away?” Y/N thought out loud, changing the subject as she picked up one of the garlic knots from the smaller box, biting into it.

Dean’s breath hitched in his throat as Y/N chewed on the garlic knot and furrowed her brows as if it was a mystery, all the while internally trying to come up with a response. “Well, I mean, they left you and Sam for dead. I’m sure they thought it was over” Dean shrugged, clearing his throat before taking a large nervous bite of his pizza.

Y/N nodded again, not buying Dean’s explanation. She could tell he was hiding something from her, just like she was hiding something from him. The thought made her uneasy, but she decided not to push on it.

“Now that Yellow-Eyes has Jake, what’s he gonna do with him?” Dean asked Y/N through a mouth full of cheese. The psychic rolled her eyes before taking up a napkin to wipe the sauce that was dripping down the side of his mouth.

The action comes off natural and almost familiar. Her fingers lingering on his chin for a split second.

“I don’t know,” she grumbled, wiping a smudge of sauce from his lip with her thumb before tossing the dirty napkin into the empty pizza box. “But whatever it is, we gotta stop it.” She was determined.

Dean raised a brow as he watched her wipe the sauce from his mouth, her touch setting off butterflies in his stomach. “Alright, hold on, you need to get your rest” Dean interrupted her, “We got time” He assured her. “No, we don’t” Y/N scuffed stubbornly, pushing herself to her feet. She began to gather up the garbage from the ground, Dean pushed himself up from his feet, following her over to the trash like a lost puppy.

“Y/N, oceans aren’t boiling, okay? Frogs aren’t raining from the sky. Let’s get your strength back first” Dean tried to reason with her, his voice raising as she discarded the rubbish. She spun around to glare at him defiantly, her hands on her hips, “I’m fine” She growled, her eyes narrowing. Dean scoffed in disbelief and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, you’re fine,” he retorted sarcastically. “You almost died last night” He reminded her, his tone sharp and stern. Y/N’s mouth snapped shut, she defiantly crossed her arms over her chest. Huffing in defeat, hating the fact that Dean was right. “Well, did you call the Roadhouse? They know anything?” She asked, Dean’s blood ran cold at the question.

He knew he had to tell her the truth about everyone at the Roadhouse but he didn’t know how. He slowly shook his head, “Yeah” He admitted, his voice wavering slightly. Y/N narrowed her eyes, ‘Dean senses’ going off at the tone in his voice.

“Dean, what is it?” She asked, Dean heavily sighed before turning to face her. “The Roadhouse burned to the ground. Ash is dead. Probably Ellen, a lot of other hunters too.” Dean revealed. Y/N’s eyes grew wide in horror as he words, her heart thumping against her chest.

“What?” She whispered, the shock and disbelief clear in her voice. “Jo-” She gasped, pressing her hand to her mouth. Dean quickly shook his head, “No, she- she’s alive” He quickly reassured her, seeing the panic on her face. Despite the comfort that Y/N felt at the news, her heart ached for the people lost in the fire. For Ash.

He had always been a kind man to her. He was a flirtatious bastard but he was also kind and did anything she asked. She looked up at Dean, her eyes shimmering with tears that threatened to fall, “Demons?” She managed to choke out. “Yeah, we think so. We think because Ash found something” Dean nodded, his jaw clenched as he spoke.

Y/N’s face twisted in anger, “What did he find?” Her voice raised as she spoke, the tears now streaming down her face. “Bobby’s working on that with Sam and Jo.” Dean told her. She nodded, before taking our her bike keys from her pocket. “Well come on then, Bobby’s only a few hours away.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop, Y/N, stop, dammit!” Dean grabbed her arm, stopping her from walking away, Y/N’s face contorted with pain from her back. “Listen to me, I’m gonna say it again. You almost died in there. I mean, what would I have-” His words died in his throat. Dean inhaled deeply as Y/N eyed him curiously.

“Look, can’t you just take care of yourself for a little bit, huh? Just a little bit” Dean pleaded. “I’m sorry, sweetie. No.” Y/N shook her head. Her words and the pet name coming out casually made the butterflies in his stomach erupt again. He couldn’t focus, his mind racing as Y/N looked up at him with her big (e/c) eyes, her head tilted to the side, a pout on her lips.

That simple look was enough to make Dean Winchester give up his soul again. “Fuck” he muttered to himself, letting go of her arm before shoving his hands into his pockets as a triumphant smiled spread across her face.

____________________________________________

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Dean knocked on Bobby’s door, shoving his hands nervously in his pocket as Y/N stood next to him. The door opened to reveal Bobby, his face was grim with exhaustion clearly evident in his eyes. His hair was a mess and clothes were wrinkled, his usual trucker hat absent from his head.

The hunter’s eyes widened with shock and terror as he faced a very much alive Y/N. Her eyes softened, her face twitching into a smile. “Hey, Bobby” Dean muttered, not making eye contact with Bobby. “Hey, Bobby” Y/N smiled.

A moment of silence passed between the trio as Bobby took a moment to process the sight in front of him. Then he looked between Dean and Y/N, “Y/N. It’s good to…see you around” Bobby’s tone was inexplainable. “Well, thanks to you and Jo for patching me up” Y/N chuckled, patting him on his shoulder before walking in. “Don’t mention it”

“Hey Bobby, I got the-” Jo said as she came walking in from the kitchen with the coffee pot, the glass slipped from her hand as an audible gasp left her lips when her eyes landed on Y/N. The sound of shattering glass made Y/N flinch and freeze in spot, her eyes meeting Jo’s. Her hands slowly raised as tears of happiness welled up in her eyes, “You’re-” Jo didn’t get to finish her sentence.

Because Sam came rushing down into the room with just his towel on around his waist, sopping wet as if he had just gotten out of the shower. A gun in his hand, “What’s going o- Y/N?!” Y/N spun around to face Sam, her eyes wide, a small smile on her face. “Hi, Sammy” She greeted him, holding back the tears as best as she could.

That failed and the tears started to fall down her face. Sam lowered the gun, his eyes growing wide with shock and relief. Sam and Jo engulfed her into a group hug, squeezing her tightly, all while shooting Dean harsh glares.

“I’m glad to see you’re okay” Sam whispered, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “I can’t believe it,” Jo added, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Y/N chuckled from her position between the two of them, her small body smothered by both tall people. “Me too, I thought I was a goner.” She managed to huff out.

“Dean told me you used my herb spell book to patch me up. Thanks” Y/N said gratefully, gently pinching Jo’s cheek. The huntress’ heart dropped, lying to her best friend wasn’t something she wanted to do. “Yeah, anytime” Jo chuckled awkwardly as Y/N turned back around. Sam and Jo shared a terrified look.

Y/N wiped the tears from her cheeks as her eyes met with Dean’s, who was leaning against the wall with a guilty look on his face. Bobby was eying Dean so bad, if looks could kill, Dean would have an early visit to hell.

Dean couldn’t look anyone in their eyes, “Well, Y/N’s better. And we’re back in it now, so…what do you guys know?” Dean asked. Bobby’s glare didn’t stop there, Sam and Jo were on edge themselves, thinking Dean did the worst thing possible. The tension was palpable. Y/N noticed everyone was silent, feeling a bit awkward.

-

“Well, we found something but we’re not sure what the hell it means” Bobby told them, all now in his living room. “What is it?” Y/N asked, taking a deep breath as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Demonic omens. It’s like a fucking tidal wave” A now fully dressed Sam began, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

“Cattle deaths, lightning storms. They’ve skyrocketed from nowhere” Jo added, using her fingers to list them off. “Here” Bobby said, turning the map with all the sightings circled off to face Dean and Y/N. “All around here, except for one place” Bobby gestured to the map before placing it down on a certain state.

“Southern Wyoming” Y/N and Dean’s brows furrowed at Bobby’s words. “Wyoming?” Dean questioned. “Yeah, that one area’s totally clean. Spotless” Sam stated, “It’s almost as if…” Jo began, but trailed off, crossing her arms over her chest. “What?” Y/N cocked her brow, urging her on. Jo’s eyes flickered over to Y/N, a flash of fear playing in them.

“…the demons are surrounding it” Jo finished. Dean’s eyes widened, “But you guys don’t know what?” He asked. “No, and by this point my eyes are swimming” Bobby sighed in frustration before turning to Y/N with a soft expression. “Y/N, would you take a look at it. Let Jo and Sam help you, maybe y’all can catch something I couldn’t” Bobby said gently.

Y/N nodded, “Yeah, sure Bobby” She smiled sadly before turning her back to them, trying to get a better look at the map. Bobby then turned his attention to Dean, the soft expression faltering. “Come on, Dean. I got some more books in the truck. Help me lug em in” His tone was almost deathly. Dean swallowed harshly.

“Yeah, sure” Was all Dean could muster up as they made their way into the scrap yard, out of earshot from everyone. The sound of the screen door shutting behind them made Y/N’s ears twitch, her head tilting to listen. Y/N could hear the sounds of Bobby and Dean talking, but couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Hey, Jo. Can I talk to Sam, alone?” Y/N asked Jo, giving her a small smile. “Sure” Jo smiled back before walking off . Y/N turned her attention back to the taller man. “So…” She began awkwardly. “Yeah, uh” Sam scratched the back of his head nervously as he eyed Y/N carefully.

He couldn’t stop the thoughts racing through his head, wondering how she could have just come back to life after being murdered. He knew his brother had something to do with it and the thought made him sick.

“What did yellow-eyes tell you?” Y/N swallowed harshly as she asked this, remembering the fact that they both had demon blood in them since birth. Sam stiffened at her question and Y/N let out a shaky sigh, the two shared a nervous look, neither one of them willing to say it out loud. “We can’t tell, Dean” Sam finally broke his silence.

“Yeah” Was all Y/N could manage as tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. “He’ll think we’re fucking freaks” Y/N scoffed, wiping the corners of her eyes. “We aren’t freaks” Sam reassured her, his facial expression full of sadness. “We didn’t ask for this” Sam placed his hand gently on her shoulder, she glanced up at him.

The tone of Sam’s voice was almost as if he was trying to convince himself and he wasn’t sure. Y/N instantly picked up on that, “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” She chuckled dryly. “Both” Sam smiled sadly at her, giving her shoulder a gentle pat before letting go. Y/N gave him a sad smile in response before standing up to walk over to the table filled with different weapons, books, and maps.

-

“You stupid ass! What did you do?!” Bobby’s exclaims were directed towards Dean with pure rage and fury. His heart sunk in his chest, the dread pooling in his gut at the thought of Bobby’s disappointment. Dean’s head tilted to the ground as Bobby snatched him by his collar, shaking him. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

Dean still refused to answer him, dread filled Bobby’s heart when he realized exactly what Dean had done. “You made a deal. For Y/N, didn’t you?” Bobby’s voice shook when he asked the obvious question. Dean’s eyes stayed fixated on the ground, his mouth refusing to answer the question or to disagree.

Bobby was watching him intently, waiting for an answer. “How long did they give you?” Bobby narrowed his eyes at the elder Winchester. “Bobby” Dean shook his head. “How long?!” Bobby shoved Dean harshly by his chest. “One year,” Dean said, his voice low. He didn’t react to his shove push, keeping his eyes to the ground as he tried to avoid Bobby’s enraged gaze.

“Damn it. Dean” Bobby groaned, shaking his head. “Which is why we gotta find this yellow-eyed son of a bitch.” Dean said determined. “That’s why I’m gonna kill him myself. I mean, I got nothing to lose now, right?” Dean shrugged. Bobby snatched Dean by his collar again. “I could throttle you!” Bobby exclaimed, shaking him.

“Oh, and what? send me downstairs ahead of schedule?” Dean shot back snarkily. Bobby scoffed, a flash of rage again in his eyes at Dean’s words before he let go of his collar. “What is it with you Winchesters and L/Ns, huh? You, F/N, your dad, you’re all just itching to throw yourselves down the pit” Bobby snapped. Dean's face dropped.

“That’s my point. Dad brought me back, Bobby. I’m not even supposed to be here!” Bobby’s mouth dropped open as Dean continued. “At least this way, something good can come out of it, you know? Like my life could mean something” Bobby was stunned into silence, staring down at Dean like he had lost his mind.

“What?! And it didn’t before?! Have you got that low an opinion of yourself?!” He yelled, snatching him by his collar again. “Are you that fucked in the head?!” Tears welled up in both men’s eyes as Dean forced himself to finally look Bobby in the eye. “I couldn’t let her die, Bobby.” Dean’s voice cracked, his eyes glazed over red.

“I couldn’t. She’s the love of my life” He confessed. Bobby held onto Dean’s collar for a while longer. His heart ached for him as he listened to the elder Winchester’s voice crack as he confessed that much to him. He’s never seen him so vulnerable before, never heard Dean say that out loud about Y/N.

“How is the love of your life gonna feel when she knows you’re going to hell? How is YOUR BROTHER gonna feel when he knows you’re going to hell? How’d you feel when you knew your dad went for you?!” Bobby shook him again.

Bobby’s words struck Dean right in the heart. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he thought back to last year when John took the swan dive to the pit, the feeling of utter helplessness and fear he felt. He didn’t think his absence could possibly make her feel that kind of anguish. Sure she cared for him as family but she didn’t love him, so it shouldn’t hurt her as much, right?

Was it his actions based on his pure and genuine love for her? Or was it his selfishness in never wanting her to leave him, even if she wasn’t his. “You can’t tell her. You take a shot at me, whatever you gotta do. But please, don’t tell her” Dean pleaded, weakly shaking his head.

“Please, Bobby,” Dean repeated, staring right into his eyes. “Please don’t tell her” Bobby’s shoulders slumped in defeat as he dropped his grip on Dean’s shirt. Both men with tears in their eyes, desperately trying not to cry. Before Bobby could say anything, the sound of tools clattering in the background made their heads snap in its direction.

Dean and Bobby shared a wide eyed look before ducking behind a car. The two peered around the side, both silent as they saw a shadow at the corner of their eyes. Dean’s hand hovered over his gun in his waistband, silently watching this figure move around the corners, looking as though they were searching for something.

Bobby too, had a firm grip on his own gun, his knuckles turning white. They instantly grabbed the person, both in shock when they realized who it was. “Ellen?!” It was indeed Ellen. Although her appearance took a toll. Her clothes were messy and torn, a few strands of hair stuck to her face and her skin was paler than usual. She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Ellen. Oh, god” Dean breathed out in relief, hugging her tightly. The motherly woman hugged him back just as tightly, a few tears streaming down her face. Bobby, despite his anger and disappointment towards Dean, was just as relieved as the other two, joining in on the hug. “Jo, where’s Jo?” Ellen immediately asked for her daughter, looking around the yard frantically.

“She's inside. She’s safe” Dean reassured her, rubbing her arms gently. “Thank god” She sighed, wiping away the tears while taking deep, uneven breaths. She quickly broke out of Dean’s hug and pushed herself to Bobby’s front door. Dean and Bobby followed behind her, Bobby reaching for the front door knob as Ellen burst through it.

“Joanna Beth!” Ellen cried out. They heard rustling, followed by Sam’s voice. “Mom?! Is that you?” Y/N and Jo immediately came into view, having risen from the spot they were sitting in, Sam following behind her, an urgent look on his face. Jo was in disbelief, thinking her mom was dead from the fire.

Her heart was beating out of his chest, “Mommy!” Jo cried, hurdling herself into her mothers arms. Ellen held her close, tears streaming down her eyes as she cradled the back of Jo’s head. “Oh, sweet girl, I thought I lost you” She breathed out shakily, kissing the top of her hair.

Sam and Y/N stood by, smiles on their faces as they watched the touching reunion, seeing the relief and comfort on their faces. Dean’s heart softened at the sight, his eyes quickly flickering over in Y/N’s direction. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

-

They were all now sitting at Bobby’s dining room table. Bobby poured some holy water into a shot glass before sliding it across to Ellen’s side. “Bobby, is this really necessary?” Ellen scoffed. “She’s fine, Bobby. Seriously” Y/N assured him but Bobby was still skeptical. “Just a belt of holy water. Shouldn’t hurt” Bobby shrugged.

Ellen, with a stoic expression, downed the holy water with no hesitation. They all stayed quiet, watching for any reaction. “Whiskey, now. If you don’t mind” She sassed, wiping her mouth before sliding the glass across the table back to Bobby.

“Mom, what happened? How did you get out?” Jo asked concerned but relieved to see her mom alive and well. Ellen took a deep breath, “I wasn’t supposed to. I was supposed to be in there with everybody else” She muttered before scoffing. “But we ran out of pretzels, of all things” Ellen shook her head as Bobby slid the shot glass back to her.

“It was just dumb luck” She said before downing the whiskey. Dean, Sam, Y/N, and Jo watched intently, still baffled by the events they had all just witnessed. They knew Ellen was a tough cookie, especially Jo knew, but their mouths remained opened anyways as they heard the rest of the story. “Anyway, that’s when Ash called, panic in his voice”

Tears welled up in Ellen and Jo’s eyes, “He told me to look in the safe. Then the call cut out. By the time I got back, the flames were sky high. Everybody was dead, I couldn’t have been gone more than 15 minutes” The room fell silent as they took in that statement. Jo put her hand on her mom’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Y/N held her hands together on her lap, letting the words sink in. “I’m sorry, Ellen” Y/N offered her sympathy, giving Jo a small smile. “A lot of good people died in there. And I got to live” Ellen said, emotion clear in her voice. “Lucky me” She scoffed.

Jo winced at the dark remark, “I’m sorry, honey” Ellen apologized, her throat caught in a lump. Jo shook her head, “At least you’re okay” She assured, reaching over and grabbing her mothers hand, bringing it to her lips and placing a gentle kiss on the back of her knuckles.

“Ellen, you mentioned a safe,” Bobby asked quietly. “A hidden safe we kept in the basement.” Ellen nodded. “Demons get what was in it?” Bobby asked. “No” Ellen shook her head before reaching into her jacket to retrieve a map. She opened it out on the table, turning it to face Sam, Dean and Y/N. “Wyoming?” Dean and Sam gaped. “What does that mean?” Y/N muttered, toying with her necklace.

-

Hours of research later, “I don’t believe it” Bobby gasped as he walked out of the kitchen with a book, placing it down in front of the map. “What? You got something?” Jo asked, “A lot more than that” Bobby grumbled, tracing his fingers over the map from the safe which had X’s at random points marks around it.

“Each of these X’s is an abandoned frontier church, all mid-19th century. And all of them…built by Samuel Colt” Bobby revealed, everyone's eyes widened. “Samuel Colt? The demon-killing, gun-making Samuel Colt?” Dean asked in shock. “Yep. And there’s more” Bobby nodded. “He built private railway lines connecting church to church..” Bobby then began drawing on the map.

“…that just happens to lay out like this” The church’s connected in the shape of a pentagram…a devil's trap. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is,” Dean muttered in shock. “It’s a Devil’s Trap” Sam said with wide eyes, Dean and Y/N wiped their mouths simultaneously in shock. “A hundred square mile devils trap” Jo added, running a hand through her hair.

“That’s fucking brilliant. Iron lines, demons can’t cross” Y/N muttered as she shook her head, impressed and baffled by the idea. “I’ve never heard of anything that massive,” Ellen commented. “No one has,” Bobby added. “And after all these years, none of the lines are broken? I mean, it still works?” Dean asked.

Realization dawned on Sam and Y/N, the two sharing a look. “Definitely.” Sam said. “How do you know?” Jo asked, raising a brow. “All those omens we found. I mean, the demons, they must be circling and they can’t get in” Sam explained. “Yeah, well, they’re trying” Y/N scoffed, running a hand over her mouth.

“Why? What’s inside?” Ellen asked curiously. “That’s what I’ve been looking for. And, uh, there’s nothing except an old cowboy cemetery right in the middle” Dean told them, pointing to the middle of the devils trap drawn on the map. “Why? What’s so important about a cemetery? What’s Colt trying to protect?” Jo muttered.

Dean and Y/N shared a look now, both thinking the same thing. “Well, unless…” Dean trailed off. “Unless what?” Bobby asked. “What if Colt wasn’t trying to keep the demons out? What if he was trying to keep something in?” Y/N suggested, “Well, that’s a comforting thought” Ellen deadpanned.

“Yeah, you think” Jo scoffed, “Could they do it Bobby? Could they get inside?” Sam asked nervously. “This thing’s so powerful. You’d practically need an A-Bomb to get in. No way a full-blood demon gets across” Bobby scoffed. Sam and Y/N shared a wide eyed look.

The two realized now why Yellow-Eyes needed one of his “special children”. “No. But we know who could” Y/N groaned, Jake was gonna fill out the demon’s and get over that trap.

____________________________________________

Wyoming

The trio, Bobby, Ellen and Jo all scattered across the cowboy cemetery, armed to the T. Waiting for Jake to show, it was nightfall, Sam stayed hidden behind old tombs with Jo while Bobby and Ellen hid behind the crypt alone. Dean and Y/N were a couple yards away from Sam and Jo, hidden behind another large tomb.

They all watched intently from different spots, waiting patiently for Jake, all on alert at any sign or sound. “Jesus, where is he?” Y/N muttered impatiently, wiping the sweat from her brow. It became silent amongst them, a sign that they all thought. Just as they had this thought, the creaking of the old gate opening followed by footsteps towards the crypt were welcomed into their ears.

Y/N’s body immediately went on the defensive upon spotting Jake’s figure slowly walking through the gate, her eyes scanning the area. Dean and Sam kept a close eye on him. He stopped in front of the old crypt, staring at it intently. Sam gave Dean a curt nod, indicating for them to reveal themselves.

Jo and Y/N followed to suit while Bobby and Jo moved from behind the crypt. “Howdy, Jake” Sam snarled at him, all hunters aiming their guns at him. “Surprise motherfucker” Y/N quipped, glaring at him. Jake’s blood when his eyes landed on her, widening as his pulse started to race. “No. You were dead. I killed you” Jake gaped.

Dean’s face twisted into a sneer, narrowing his eyes. Jake shook his head, eyes flickering between the hunters all surrounding him. “I did! I cut clean through your spinal cord” Jake insisted. Y/N was in shock, the rapid healing of her wound making sense. Even with the healing balm from her spell book, her tattoo wouldn’t have been intact.

Her eyes flickered over to Dean who wore a guilt ridden expression, her heart plummeted to her feet as Jake continued. “You can’t be alive. You can’t be” Jake shook his head, eyes still wide with horror. “Okay, just take it real easy there, son” Bobby warned, glaring at the army vet. “And if I don't?” Jake challenged.

“Wait and see!” Sam bellowed, “What, you a tough guy all of a sudden? What are you gonna do, kill me?” Jake scoffed, “It’s a thought” Sam clenched his jaw, tightening his grip on his gun. There was no way he was hesitating to kill him this time. Last time, it cost Y/N her life. He was not letting Jake slip away again.

Jake’s lip curled into a twisted smile as he let out a scoff. Dean clenched his jaw as a chill ran down his spine from hearing the tone of his voice. Jake took a step towards Y/N and Dean aimed his gun to the air, shooting a bullet into the sky before pointing it a foot away from his face. “Don't you DARE take another step,” Dean growled.

“You had your chance. You both had your chance. You couldn’t” Jake said to Sam and Y/N. “Well we won’t make that mistake twice” Y/N spat, her eyes spitting in Jake’s direction. Jake chuckled darkly, this made Dean’s blood run cold. “What are you smiling at, you little bitch?” The elder Winchester snarled.

Jake smirked, his eyes flickering over to Jo, a nasty grin on his face. “Hey sexy, do me a favor.” His eyes glowed a tiny ball of yellow before saying, “Put that gun to your head” Jo glared at him, but fear soon took over her face as she tried to fight off his control. Shakily placing the gun to her temple. “No!” Ellen almost sobbed as she watched her daughter place the gun to her temple against her will.

Sam’s heart plummeted as Y/N’s eyes widened. “You too, lady” Jake smirked at Ellen, making her do the exact same as Jo. A dark smile taking over his face, everyone’s blood ran cold. “See that Ava girl was right. Once you give into it, there’s all sorts of new Jedi Mind Tricks you can learn” Jake’s eyes darkened.

Sam’s heart froze, his hand still wrapped around the handle of his gun. “Let her go!!” Sam demanded, “Sammy, shoot..him..” Jo pleaded, her tone shaky. “You’ll be mopping up skull before you get a shot off” Jake shrugged, daring them to take a shot. No one moved a muscle, not willing to make a move.

“Everybody put your guns down” Jake demanded as Jo and Ellen shook with fear. “Except you, sweethearts” He smirked at them. They all did as they were told, guns clattering to the ground. Jake smirked, his eyes glowing bright yellow. Bobby went first, then Dean, then Y/N. But Sam was still gripping his gun, “Put.It.Down” Jake demanded again.

Jo was on the brink of crying watching this all unfold, “Shoot him, Sammy!" She pleaded, her voice quivering. Sam looked at the gun he was still holding, then up to Jake’s glowing eyes. His expression was torn with internal battle. “Your bitch’ll be dead, the second you empty that chamber, I promise you” Jake threatened through gritted teeth.

This was all it took for Sam to surrender, holding his gun up before placing it on the ground. “Okay, thank you” Jake smirked, he then quickly spun around, taking out the Colt. Dean, Y/N and Bobby took the chance to knock the guns Jo and Ellen had aimed at their head. Dean and Bobby knocked it out of Ellen’s hand while Y/N knocked it out of Jo’s hand.

Sam quickly picked up his gun from the ground, aiming it at Jake. The sound of two bullets escaping the chambers bellowed through the cemetery as Jake stuck the Colt into the crypt unlocking it. Several bullets pierced into Jake’s back, the culprit being Sam with a dark look on his face.

Jake fell to the ground, bleeding from his mouth, gasping for air as Sam stood over him, his gun aimed straight at his chest. “Please-…please…no, n-” Jake’s pleas were cut short when Sam emptied the last of his chamber, the blood splattering across his face. Everyone was shocked at the cold move by Sam.

Y/N’s stomach was churning as she followed behind Dean, her eyes on Jake’s bullet ridden body. The crypt was still turning since Jake unlocked it before Sam killed him. Bobby walked slowly over to the old crypt with slow steps, everyone following him closely. The crypt door creaked loudly with a thud, “Oh no” Bobby muttered in fear. “Bobby, what is it?” Ellen asked. “It’s hell”

With Bobby’s words, Dean instantly took the Colt out of the keyhole. “Take cover! Now!” Bobby shouted, pushing Ellen over to take cover while Dean grabbed Y/N’s hand and Jo grabbed Sam’s hand, all throwing themselves over tombs to hide behind headstones.

The crypt door finally came crashing down with a loud and thunderous bang, black smoke clouding the skies as demons escaped from Hell. The ground beneath them shaking like an earthquake was in effect, thunder and lightning filling the sky.

“What the fuck just happened?!” Y/N shouted, that burning feeling she usually had whenever demons were around skyrocketed. Her entire body was heated, “That's a devil's gate, a damn door to hell!” Ellen shouted back in response over the thunderous sounds. “Come on, we gotta shut that gate!” Jo yelled, everyone did as told, rushing over to the gate as Dean held the Colt in his hands.

A thought crossed his mind, “If the demon gave to Jake…then maybe..” Dean said in realization, a flash of smoke came across his eyes, indicating he might be right before turning around to aim the gun at Azazel. The Yellow Eyed Demon waved his hand in the air, summoning the gun from Dean’s hand to his. “Boys shouldn’t play with Daddy’s guns,” Azazel smirked.

With a tilt of his head, he sent Dean flying across the cemetery, causing the Hunter to hit his head on a tombstone. “CHARMING!!” “DEAN!!” Y/N and Sam screamed when they saw Azazel toss Dean in the air, currently at the gate, trying to shut the Devil’s Gate with the help of Bobby, Ellen, Jo and Sam. All grunting heavily as they strained to shut the door.

Sam and Y/N instantly ran over to aid Dean, but Azazel waved his hand, sending Sam barreling back-first into a tree and Y/N into a tombstone, across from Dean. “I’ll get to you two in a minute, kids. But I’m proud of you, Sammy. I knew you had it in ya” Azazel grinned before turning to Dean with yellow eyes. The elder Winchester was attempting to get out but the demon pushed him back down.

“So Dean, I gotta thank you” Azazel stated mockingly. Dean, gritting his teeth trying to resist the mind grip, struggling as Azazel stooped down in front of him. “You see, demons can’t resurrect people unless a deal is made.” The demon began, “I know, red tape, it’ll make you nuts” He mused. “But thanks to you, Y/N’s back in rotation” Azazel grinned.

Dean’s eyes darkened and Y/N’s filled with tears, “Now, I wasn’t counting on that but I’m glad. I like her and Sammy better than Jake anyhow” Azazel chuckled, “Besides she’s got that ‘mojo’ thing going on” Azazel smirked, grabbing Dean’s chin and lifting his head up. Dean shook with disgust, ��Tell me, have you ever heard the expression: If a deal sounds too good to be true, it probably is?”

Dean’s eyes glanced over at Y/N, “No…no” Y/N was in disbelief, shaking her head, pleading that Dean didn’t know what she thought he did. Guilt and shame washed over him, “You call that a good deal?” Dean gritted his teeth at Azazel. “Aw, it’s a better shake than your Dad got…and you never wondered why. I’m surprised at you” Azazel shot back, hitting a nerve before moving closer to Dean.

“I mean, you saw what your brother just did to Jake right? That was pretty cold wasn’t it? Good thing it wasn’t Y/N, she would’ve probably nailed him to the cross” Azazel chuckled darkly. “How certain are you that what you brought back is 100% pure Y/N? Are you even sure that she and Sam are 100% pure?” He mused.

Dean’s face paled and his throat closed, staring at Azazel in horror. Sam and Y/N shared a terrified look. Y/N’s eyes grazed over the area, looking for the Colt. When her eyes landed on it, on the ground next to Azazel, she attempted to summon the Colt into her hands but the hold the demon had on her was weakening her powers.

“You of all people should know that what’s dead should stay dead” Azazel gritted his teeth at Dean, who scoffed, shaking with anger. “Anyway” The demon sighed before dusting off his pants, “Thanks a bunch, I knew I kept you alive for some reason. Until now anyway” The demon grinned as he picked up the Colt from the ground, aiming it at Dean.

“I couldn’t have done it without your pathetic self-loathing, self-destructive desire to sacrifice yourself for your family.” Suddenly, the spirits of John Winchester and F/N L/N appeared behind Azazel, both men wrapped their arms around him before he could shoot Dean. Dean and Y/N’s eyes widened when they saw their fathers. A loud gasp leaving Sam’s mouth.

The body Azazel was possessing dropped dead to the ground, “Daddy?” Y/N gasped as the veteran hunters wrestled with the black smoke that left the body Azazel was possessing, holding him down for long enough for Dean to retrieve the Colt. Within a few seconds, the demon smoke went barreling back into the body.

Azazel got up with wide eyes to see Dean aiming the Colt straight at him. Without hesitation, Dean Winchester used the last bullet of the Colt, aiming straight at the heart. Blood spewed out of the wound, almost as if the bullet stunned the demon. An orangish light glowed through the body, seizing for a few seconds before dropping dead to the floor.

Sam and Y/N finally escaped from the hold Azazel had on them, now able to breath, dropping to the ground. Ellen, Bobby and Jo finally got the gates closed, all grunting and screaming as the door creaked inwards, shutting completely.

Sam, Dean and Y/N pushed themselves up from the ground to see the spirit of their Dads. A tearful moment for them all, John stepped forward and placed a hand on his elder son's shoulder, tears cascading down his cheeks before he turned to his younger son, a bright smile in his direction. Sam nodded with tears in his eyes in response.

F/N placed his hand on Dean’s other shoulder, mouthing a quiet, “Thank you” to Dean for saving his daughter. Dean nodded back In responses shaking with emotion. F/N turned to his only daughter, a mournful smile on his face as he mouthed, “I love you” to his only child. “I love you too” Y/N mouthed back, her face creasing as she cried.

F/N and John stepped back, giving their children one last loving gaze before bursting into a bright white light, seemingly having found peace. Sam, Dean and Y/N were still in shock, “Well, check that off the to do list” Dean chuckled dryly, “You did it” Sam croaked, a flash of relief weighing off his chest.

“I didn’t do it alone” Dean smiled sadly, “Fellas, you think dad and John really-” Y/N’s words got caught in her throat. “You think they really climbed out of hell?” Dean chuckled dryly again, “The door was open, if anyone was stubborn enough to do it, it’ll be them” Dean snorted, Sam and Y/N nodded in tearful agreement.

“Where do you think they are now?” Sam asked, “I don’t know” Dean frowned, “I kind of can’t believe it guys. I mean- our whole lives, everything, has green prepping us for this. And now, I- I kind of don’t know what to say” Sam sniffled, shaking his head in disbelief. “I do.” Dean smirked before kneeling down besides the dead body Azazel was possessing.

“That was for our moms. You son of a bitch” Dean growled at him.

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Author's Note: HI AGAIN, so this next scene’s song inspo is Again by Noah Cyrus (hehehehe) ENJOY!

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Sioux Falls, South Dakota

The ride all the way back, Y/N hadn't said a word. She wouldn’t dare make eye contact with Dean, and it tore into his heart. It was until Y/N finally had enough of being in her own mind, she confronted Dean. Everyone was in Bobby’s living room when Y/N emerged, “I need you talk to you” She snapped at Dean.

Dean winced at her sudden blunt tone while everyone fell silent. He nodded in obedience while Y/N dragged him into Bobby's yard with a scowl on her face. The door slammed with a loud bang behind her as she turned on Dean, “You know, when Jake saw me, it was like he saw a ghost” She spat in Dean's direction, her arms folded across her chest with eyes burning with anger.

Dean fell silent, refusing to look at her as he stalked over to his car. “Don’t walk away from me! You heard him. He said he killed me!” Y/N called out to him, following behind Dean while heavy on her feet. She stopped him from getting it to his car, shutting the door as he opened it. “He was wrong” Dean lied. “I don’t think he was, Dean” Y/N spat, forcing Dean’s head to face her. “What happened after I was stabbed?”

“I already told you” Dean snapped back, flicking her hand off of his chin roughly. “Not everything” Y/N shot back, “Y/N, we just killed the demon. Can we celebrate for a minute?!” Dean exclaimed in frustration. “Did I die?” Y/N’s voice broke.

Dean’s heart clenched at Y/N’s broken tone, looking away from her. “Did you sell your soul for me like John did for you?” She demanded. “Oh come on! No!” Dean shouted, lying. “Tell me the truth. Charming, tell me the truth” Y/N pleaded. Dean clenched his jaw. Y/N’s eyes widened at the confirmation, “You did, didn’t you?” She cried out to him.

“I did it to save you” Dean confessed quietly with his head hung. "You- you sold your soul for me?" Y/N repeated, her voice shaky. "Dean, how could you do something so... idiotic and reckless? Don’t you realize what you’ve done?! What that means for you? Dammit.. you stupid stupid idiot!" Y/N raged, reeling her fist back before driving it into Bobby’s truck drivers side window.

Glass shattered everywhere, showering the surrounding area. Bobby's truck was now sporting a gaping hole where the driver's side window used to be.

He didn’t answer her, he just stood with his head hung. There was no denying the fear that flashed through his own eyes, what he did was not an easy decision to make. He knew the consequences. He knew that he was a walking dead man with a limited date, however, that wasn't what hurt him. What hurt him, was how Y/N was reacting, all because of him.

“You answer me when I’m speaking to you, dammit! How could you?! How could you just throw your life away!? Why?!” She growled, pushing him by his chest.

He stumbled backwards as she pushed him, his heart pounding in his chest. The mixture of anger and fear in her eyes cut through him like a knife.

"What did you want me to do, huh?!" Dean snapped back, his voice loud. "Watch you die? Let you go into the light?” He scoffed angrily. “No. I couldn't do it. I couldn't lose you. I had to save you."

“So, what!? You throw your life away for me?! You promised me Dean!!!” She sobbed. “You promised me that you wouldn’t do anything crazy if me or Sam died and you broke that!” Her heart was pounding through her chest, ready to give out. The look of guilt potent on Deans face.

“How long?” She demanded, but Dean shook his head. “HOW LONG?!” She shouted again, shoving him by his chest. “A YEAR!” Dean screamed. “I can’t believe this…I was dead! You of all people should know that’s not natural! We’re hunters, we die. That’s life!” She screamed enraged, smacking the back of her hand against her other palm as she yelled, a mixture of fleeting guilt that Dean just sacrificed his humanity for her.

“I don't care!” Dean shouted, his eyes burning with pain and frustration. His fists clenched and unclenched to his sides. “You wanna know why I did it? Huh?! I did it because I made a promise to your father on his deathbed that I’d keep you safe and I intended on keeping it. It’s my job to take care of you” Dean lied through his pearly white teeth.

“Don’t you dare feed that bullshit Dean Winchester. ” She snapped, pointing her finger at him. “I'm a grown ass woman, it is NOT your job to take care of me. We take care of EACH OTHER! I didn’t think letting us die in peace was supposed to be printed in INK!” She further raged, pacing the scrap yard.

“So you can keep a promise to my dead father but you can’t keep one to me? ME?!” Her chest heaved as she pointed to herself. “I wanna know the truth,” Y/N demanded. “Why?! How?! Why would you do that?!” She sobbed, her hands buried in her hair as she paced back and forward.

“I JUST TOLD YOU!”

“BULLSHIT!”

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!" He shouted, in a pained and frustrated tone that shook his whole body. His own voice breaking with the weight of his confession.

He couldn’t hold back anymore, his emotions got the best of him, he didn’t care if he had to risk it all to get it out, he wasn’t leaving in a year and not let her know the truth, she deserved that much. She deserved the world. Better than he could offer. He may have just offered up his soul on a silver platter, but she deserved far more than that in his eyes.

Her pacing abruptly stopped, his words struck right into her heart. She looked at him like a deer in headlights. Y/N couldn’t believe what just came out of his mouth. She stood there, frozen like a statue, her face etched with shock and disbelief. Words refused to escape her, her mouth opened and closed several times but nothing came out. She just stared at him in silence.

His chest rose and fell with every heavy ragged breath. His green eyes burned with the intensity of his confession, as he stared back at her. His walls had finally crumbled, and he’d let the truth spill from his lips, like he was an open book.

"I love you, dammit! I love you more than anything in this world! I couldn't let you go. I couldn't just watch you die and do nothing! Because I can't imagine a life without you.” His tone was broken and pained.

Y/N’s heart sank to the floor, her face dropped. She was in utter shock and disbelief. Dean didn’t know what to do now, how long would it take her to say something? Would she laugh in his face? The silence was excruciating as he stood in front of her.

“W-what-“ Is all she could muster up.

Dean took a deep breath, his chest heaving with the weight of his confession. The area was eerily silent, the only sound was their ragged breathing. He took a few steps closer to her, his eyes never straying from hers. "You heard me," He said, trying to steady his voice.

"I- I’ve been holding back for so long..." He started, his voice barely above a whisper. “…because I didn't want to complicate things, but seeing you die.. that just..." Dean choked back a wave of emotion that threatened to overpower him.

"I love you, Y/N L/N. I didn't have the guts to say it out loud until now. I know you don't feel the same way but I can’t hide it anymore. Not after seeing you like that"

Y/N stood motionless, her eyes wider than saucers. Her heart thudded in her chest as she tried to process what Dean had just said. She couldn't believe it. The man she had always been in love with, the man she had never thought could feel the same way about her, had just confessed his love for her.

As the shock started to wear off, an array of emotions washed over her. Surprise, happiness, fear, guilt, and most of all, love. A million thoughts raced through her mind, but one prevailed above all else.

She loved him too. She always had.

She closed her eyes, convinced this was a dream, allowing his words to sink in. The fact that he thought she didn’t feel the same way ripped into her heart more than hearing he loved her back. Taking a couple seconds and deep breath, she reopened them, “Again. Say it again” Her breath hitched, her eyes piercing into his as she swallowed the growing lump in her throat.

He stepped even closer, gently taking her left hand in his. He looked directly into her eyes, his voice trembling slightly.

‘I wanna be your lover,’

‘I don't wanna be your friend’

"I love you, princess. I am hopelessly in love with you. I love everything about you. Your passion, your intelligence, your strength, and your stubbornness. I love the way you laugh and you roll your eyes at me when I make terrible puns. I love the way you smack me upside my head when I’m being an ass.” He listed off sincerely with a light chuckle as Y/N’s (e/c) eyes searched his emerald ones.

‘You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear’

‘So tell me that you love me again (tell me that you love me again)’

“I love the way you scrunch your nose up and your eyebrows together when you’re focused and thinking hard about something. I love the way you look when you’re hunched over riding Quinn. Fuck, I love the way you crush a cigarette butt with your boot. I even love that you stole one of my shirts and act like you don’t know anything about it” He added with a small laugh. “I've been in love with you for a long time, and it kills me knowing that you don’t feel the same way"

‘I wanna be your lover.’

‘Baby, I'll hold my breath’

Dean never had a way with words, he sucked ass at the ‘cheesy chick flick’ stuff. That melodrama was never in his books but yet his words came so effortlessly, it flowed fluidly past his lips as he talked about all the things he admired and respected about her. The way it spewed from him, shocked even the man himself but it just came so naturally. It was like something out of a rom-com, he never knew he had it in him.

‘You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear’

‘So tell me that you love me again (tell me that you love me)’

Still holding onto her left hand in his, he reached up with his free hand up to cup her face, his thumb rubbing soft slow circles on her jawline.

His heart thundered in his chest as he looked down into her (e/c) eyes, searching them, watching for any sign of disgust. Expecting another rejection. His eyes flicked down to her lips, then back up to her eyes, before he spoke again, his voice quiet and vulnerable.

“Say something, please"

She sobbed at his confession, it felt too good to be true. Too surreal for her. Still in disbelief at how those words flowed past his tongue. Guilt from Dean sacrificing himself mixing with the guilt over the fact that he believed she didn’t love him back.

She didn’t know how to respond, she couldn’t top that but she knew how to show it. Without speaking, she snaked her arms around his neck, pulling him in, finally connecting his lips with hers in a passionate rough, starved kiss.

‘Again, babe, again’

‘Again, babe, again’

‘You don't know what you got 'til it's gone, my dear’

‘So tell me that you love me again’

As their lips met, a wave of electricity shot through both their bodies. Dean reciprocated the kiss almost instantly after the initial shock wore off. He let go of her chin, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her close against him as he kissed her back with all the pent-up desire and love he had been holding in for years. Her fingers threaded into his short-cropped ivy-league at the back of his neck, and he deepened the kiss, hungry for more of her.

Y/N melted into his embrace while Dean held her tightly against him as they continued to kiss each other like starved animals. The world around them faded away, leaving only the warmth of her body, the taste of her lips, and the overwhelming emotion coursing through him.

It was real this time. It wasn’t some venom-hopped fantasy dream world. This was real, as real as can be.

Son of a fucking Bitch, I’m kissing Y/N!

Jesus fucking Christ, I’m kissing Dean!

Y/N moaned lightly into the kiss, unable to hold back her desire. Her moan sent shivers down his spine, fueling his desire to claim his territory. His hands roamed over her body, caressing her curves, her imperfect, in her eyes, yet so deliciously perfect, in his eyes, body. Pulling her as close as physically possible. He nipped at her lower lip, gently biting and sucking on it as he explored the sweetness of her mouth with his tongue.

Eventually, Y/N broke the kiss, resting her forehead against his, their breaths mingling in the chilly air. Dean couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of relief and happiness wash over him, finally being able to express the love he's been holding onto for so long. “At risk of sounding like those cheesy rom-coms you love. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this” Dean murmured, his voice low and rough with a bit of muse.

Y/N chuckled breathlessly at his untimely humor. “I love you too. I’ve always loved you, you big sap” She breathed out, her voice slightly above a whisper, finally returning his words. Meaning every bit of it.

Hearing her say those words sent a wave of emotion through Dean’s body. His heart swelled with joy. He pulled back slightly to look at her, his eyes searching hers. "You... you really mean that?" Dean asked, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that she reciprocated his feelings.

Y/N smiled, shaking her head. Her heart beating out of her chest. “Well I don’t kiss someone like that and not mean it” She sniffled back a chuckle. Dean let out a breathless laugh, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "Fair point," He admitted, chuckling, his voice full of affection.

Y/N smiled softly, her eyes glazing over with tears of happiness. "Of course, I mean it, charming," she replied, her hand caressing his cheek. "I've loved you for as long as I can remember. I love you, Dean Winchester, with every fiber of my being."

Those words sent a shiver through his entire being. His heart skipped a beat before thudding loudly in his chest. A wave of love, happiness, and disbelief washed over him. Dean was shocked. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that she'd feel the same way about him. But here she was, standing in front of him, telling him she loved him as much as he loved her.

"Y/N-" Dean stuttered, his voice thick with emotion. He shook his head slightly, trying to find the words. But before he could speak, she interrupted him with a kiss.

Capturing his lips in another quick, soft kiss before he broke away to brush a strand of hair from her face as their foreheads pressed together. "And here I was thinking you rejected me that day I tried to talk to you about…well…when we almost did this" He sniffled.

“I was here thinking you just wanted to hook up or something. Thinking that you’d never love me the way I love you. How could you possibly think that, charming?” She whispered back. Tears brimming in her eyes again. Seeing the tears well in her eyes, Dean's heart clenched in his chest. He gently wiped away a stray tear with his thumb, his expression softening.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” She croaked painfully. "Because I was afraid," He admitted, ashamed, his voice quieter now. "Afraid that if I confessed my feelings, I'd lose you. Afraid that you wouldn't feel the same way, that I'd ruin the friendship we've built over the years. Just like you said"

She shook her head, “Even if I didn’t feel the same way- Which I do, by the way. You’d never lose me, like I said” She assured him softly. She chuckled lightly at the irony, “God, we really are like a bad romance novel” Y/N shook her head, at how much of a cliche this all has been. Dean felt a weight lift off his shoulders as she spoke, her reassurance easing some of the doubts that had plagued him for so long.

Laughing along with her, "I should've known better," He said, his hand moving to cup her cheek. "You're too stubborn to get rid of that easily." He tried to joke, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N chuckled lightly, “You’re darn tootin’, Winchester. You ain’t getting rid of me now or ever” She smiled, laying a kiss on his lips.

-

Meanwhile all of this is unfolding, Bobby and Sam sat front row as they peered through the creased curtains at his windows in the house, watching intently as the scene between Dean and Y/N played out in the yard.

Words were being tossed back and forth between the two until Dean finally took his hand into hers. The nosey hunters stood in tense silence as Dean spoke softly to her until Y/N finally snatched Dean by his face and took his lips onto hers.

Bobby wore a satisfied grin and a proud smirk. Sam and Bobby shared a wordless high-five, their eyes still trained out the window at the angsty couple.

"Well, I’ll be damned. It's about fucking time," he grumbled, shaking his head. "Those idjits finally figured it out."

Sam chuckled with a scoff, a mix of disbelief and amusement on his face, "I can't believe it," he whispered. "Looks like they finally got their heads out their asses. It only took them a decade or two." Sam chuckled, a grin plastered across his face.

-

“You think they were watching us?” Y/N chuckled, referring to Sam and Bobby. Dean's face still between the palms of her hand, his light stubble pricking lightly on her soft hands. His own residing on her hips, Dean chuckled along with her, their eyes drifting towards the window where Sam and Bobby stood, their eyes widened, quickly closing the curtain, attempting to act like they weren't peeping.

And slightly sheepish grew on his face. "Knowing those two, they probably saw the whole thing," He said, shaking his head. "Sam's probably ecstatic that I finally grew a pair and told you how I feel.” Dean commented warning a laugh from her, “Yeah, he probably is thinking the same with me” She chuckled, throwing her head back.

His thumbs traced small circles on her hip, she tugged at her bottom lip slightly as he did this. Seeing that movement, his eyes couldn't help but be drawn to her mouth. "You know," He said, his voice lowered. “That was so much hotter than last time” Dean teased, referring to their first kiss as kids. (See ‘First Kiss?’ in the prequel to understand).

Y/N’s mouth fell agape, her cheeks flushed red. “I was hoping you didn’t remember that!” She cackled, throwing her head back. “How could I ever forget it?” He said in a gentle tone, running his thumb along her bottom lip.

Her eyes softened at this until he added, “You were terrible” amusement coated his tone, earning a smack from his girl. He roared a laugh in response, “I was seven! And you were a nervous wreck. It was either I do it or we would’ve sat behind that car all day” She defended with mock annoyance. “I know, Princess. I’m kidding” He chuckled, attaching his lips to her in a soft gentle kiss.

His hands slowly traveled down, slipping into her back pockets, gripping her ass, giving it a soft, yet firm squeeze as their lips moved in sync. A gasp brushed past her lips and onto his. "But there's more I want to do … but only if you’re comfortable with that" He leaned forward, nipping at her neck.

She let out yet another soft gasp, her head tilting slightly to give him better access to her neck. He took advantage of that, continuing to kiss and nibble at her skin, his hands still holding her in place. Her breath hitched at his words and actions, feeling Dean’s soft lips on her neck. A shiver ran down her spine as I continued to nip and kiss her sensitive skin.

"Oh yeah?" She breathed out, her voice wavering slightly. "And what else do you want to do?" He smirked against her skin, his lips hovering over her pulse point. "You really want me to spell it out for you?" Dean whispered, his tongue tracing the length of her jaw. His hands still firmly planted against her ass, giving her another firmer squeeze.

A mischievous yet seductive smile tugged at Y/N’s lips as a straggled moan escaped her throat. His grip on her ass, tightened, teasingly palming at them. He could feel his stomach flutter and his jeans tighten at this. She could feel her panties dampen practically through her jeans as he pulled her closer, his firm body pressing against hers. "I’d love for you to spell it out for me" Y/N murmured, her voice dripping with desire.

The way her voice got all sultry made his pulse quicken, his body reacting to her words as his breath got stuck in his throat. This goddamn woman will eat him alive and he’s counting on it. "Why don’t we start with this, princess?" His voice dropped an octave and with that, he crashed his lips against hers in a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth, exploring and tasting her thoroughly.

The nickname ‘princess’ always had a way of making her weak in her knees, especially today. Her body melted against his as their lips moved against each others in a slow, sloppy kiss. His tongue swirled around hers fighting for dominance, tasting her sweetness and exploring her mouth.

She tasted like a mix of tobacco and a hint of a mint from the menthols she smoked. Damn, she tasted like a heavenly-sin and all he wanted was to be even more damned than he already was.

Her knees buckled slightly as he deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms tighter around her waist to hold her up.

He backed up against the Impala’s hood now, pinning her between his body and the car. He continued to kiss her hungrily, his hands roaming over her body. One hand moved up to tangle in her hair, holding her head in place, while the other slid down to her ass, giving it another firm squeeze.

Dean’s hand slid from her ass to her thigh when she lifted her left leg besides his right hip, wrapping it around his waist. The moan that escaped Dean’s mouth was utterly desperate, craving more of the goddess in his arms.

His moan of desperation turned Y/N’s mind to mush. Her stomach fluttered with need. His arousal pressed against her jean clad mound that she was pretty certain was soaked through, earning a tiny wince from her.

"Darlin'," He breathed against her lips, breaking the kiss for just a moment. "As much as I want to take you right here, on the spot, I don't think Sam and Bobby will appreciate it."

Their lips parted as he spoke, his words sending a wave of heat through her body. Despite the desire coursing through her veins, she couldn't help but chuckle at his remark. "Fair point," she conceded, her hands still wandering along his broad shoulders as she lowered her leg back onto the ground.

"And I would like for our first time to be somewhere a little more decent, I'd rather not have them hear me screaming your name." She smirked.

At her words, a low growl escaped his throat, a wolfish grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "Trust me, princess," He replied, his voice thick with desire. "When we do have our first time, I don’t care who hears your screams of pleasure. I want them to know you’re all mine."

Her eyes darkened at his words, the fire in them mirrored the burning need in his. "Is that a promise, Winchester?" She challenged, arching an eyebrow. He leaned in close, their lips just a breath apart, "It’s a damn guarantee, L/N" He retorted, his voice dripping with lust.

"Now, unless you want my hands and mouth all over you right here, I suggest we go inside before I forget that Sam and Bobby are waiting for us." He takes his hands onto hers, finally letting go. “Why don’t we head on over to my safehouse? It’s not far from here if you remember, we can take Sam with us” She suggests.

He took a moment to compose himself, his body still thrumming with arousal. He nodded in agreement, his mind going over her suggestion. He turned away from her to fix his jeans, sticking his hand inside to tuck his arousal away, earning an amused snort from his girlfriend.

"Sure thing, darlin'. Let's just grab the sasquatch and head on over.” He leaned in to plant a quick kiss on her forehead before reluctantly pulling away and heading back towards the house, his fingers intertwined with hers.

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Authors Note: And with that, we have come to the end of yet another season🥰 DO YOU GUYS LOVE ME AGAIN?! (pun intended LMAO) I hope you all enjoyedddd. I cant wait to hear your lovely thoughts and I’m actually shook rn, I can’t believe it finally happened. Currently in tears😭❤️

Be sure to lmk what you loved and what you hated!

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2 @zigzoggy

@hey-its-zoe @modiddys-blog @thvxr @tommysaxes @cookiemonstermusic258 @elite4cekalyma

@ladykitana90

Xoxo

[ziorite]

crying laughing (mostly just crying) over the long goodbye job rn because what the fuck guys. what the FUCK.

(spoilers for the last episode of leverage season 5)

i still had so much hope for them even after hardison fell and parker got shot. i was crossing my fingers because eliot will be there and they’ll get away because they always get away ?? right ?? but then they make it the van and eliot gets shot. right in the fucking chest.

THE VAN SCENE. I WAS DISTRAUGHT. DISTRAUGHT Y’ALL. AND THEN HARDISON’S LAST WORDS ARE TO WONDER IF ELIOT IS OKAY ??? “HERE I AM”??? WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT. AND THE THREE OF THEM FUCKING DIE HOLDING EACH OTHER’S HANDS WHAT DID THEY DO THAT TO US FOR. (something something parker dying alone when she’s finally learned what it means to have a family something something eliot dies first because to watch the people he’s dedicated his life to protecting die in front of him is to die a second and third time something something)

and then the cherry on top when nate and sophie look back and the three of them are dead and bleeding out and clutching on to each other in death what do they do ??? they don’t even consider giving themselves up they drive that van up the bridge and into the damn river.

nate’s enraged yelling at the agent had me wide eyed with my hand over my mouth. fucking STUNNED yall. nate is really no one’s favorite but my god the fucking pain in his voice. 10/10. BUT THEN of course that’s not all there is to it. the switch from grieving fury to composed nonchalance was both peak comedy and absolute whiplash.

AND HERE’S STERLING !! everyone’s favorite slime ball <3 and ho ho ? he’s mad at nate for killing the rest of the team ?? they grew on him didn’t they— like clumps of adorable mold that just keep coming back <3

and finally. the master plan is revealed. sterling did scare the living shit out of me shooting “hardison” like that but of course nate had a better plan than what they believed. crazy to think that the whole damn emotional rollercoaster was really just set up for the actual break in. (eliot’s exasperated eye roll and fall at nate’s “bang !” was everything.) starring sterling as the trojan horse! an amazing choice all around.

AND !! we have a proposal !! proposals plural actually because no way in fucking hell was that not a confession from eliot. that scene was the height of romance and i will be DAMNED if someone tries to tell me that was just normal best friend shit. OT3 IS REAL !!!

in conclusion: love leverage, they have the amazingest show to ever show and a finale better than any other out there. 200/10 would watch again and i am currently penning a love letter to john rogers and dean devlin.

[vroomvroomcircuit]

Drive all Night

(A/N): This is inspired by the song "Call your mom" by Noah Kahan.

Summary: Max is worried about the sudden shift in his best friends behavior. But he is willing to drive all night to get to the root of the problem.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader (little childhood friends to lovers on the side with angst/hurt to comfort)

Warnings: Association to Max's shitty childhood, reader has depression/a depressive episode, implicit mentions of suicide, listen to the song and you get the vibe

Wordcount: 2.4k

🏎Masterlist🏎 ________________________

Max Verstappen is not a big worrier. Actually, he is no worrier at all.

When there is something to worry about, he just changes it. If he can’t change it, it’s out of his area of responsibility, so he doesn’t have to worry about it.

Thinking like that helped him focus through great challenges. But his mindset wasn’t the only motivator. Through all his highest highs and lowest lows, his best friend has been right next to him, either cheering him on or being the shoulder to cry on he just needed.

(Y/N) and him befriended each other in kindergarten, having felt this unexplainable pull to each other. Ever since playing with Legos together for the first time they had been inseparable if they could help it.

Of course, as they got older and Max’s career in karting took off and (Y/N) had to focus more on school, they started to shift to calling and texting more than relying on in person talking. But that didn’t stop them staying best friends. One might even argue that through their 24/7 updates to each other, they grew even closer.

Meeting in person in their adulthood had become increasingly easier. Sometime (Y/N) travels with Max to several races back to back, being blessed with a remote working job.

The young man starts to suspect something isn’t going smoothly during one of their daily face time calls with her being in her dark bedroom and him in a hotel room halfway across the world. “But enough of how annoying these marketing things are. What did you do today? Except for work of course.” Max just finished another yapping season about the last challenge the social media teams had him participate in.

(Y/N) just shrugs her shoulders while focusing on a loose thread in her shirt. “Nothing much. I reread pride and prejudice.” Max halts a bit in his rummaging through his suitcase, being on the look out for his charger. “I thought you had plans for lunch with a friend? And didn’t you read through that book last week already? You do know that no matter how often you read it, the ending will stay the same.” He jokes a bit.

While still not shifting her gaze towards the phone screen, (Y/N) answers in mumbles. “I canceled on her. I really felt icky today, but we will try to set up another meet up some time next week or so.”

At first Max doesn’t think of it as much. Everyone feels not like socializing every one in a while. But then something else changes. The frequency of their calls and texts.

“...here we can do- Max? Are you even listening to me?” Max gets caught off guard by that question. GP was going over some points with him before starting FP2. “Oh, uhm, sorry GP. Gimme three seconds, I just want to reply to (Y/N). It seems like she didn’t have a great day and I just want to make sure she’ll be alright until I’m out of the car.”

This makes his race engineer raise his eyebrows. “Oh, what happened?” “I don’t know. But she is rewatching one of her comfort shows for the third time in two weeks.” He blinks at the Dutchman. “And in what way is that concerning?”

Okay, voicing his worrisome thoughts out loud like that makes Max realize that the signs are not too obvious for outsiders. But he is talking about his best friend. The person that always makes sure that he won’t go without his needed amount of sleep. The same person he had been having phone calls that resulted in four out of the last seven nights with him getting not more than 5 hours of sleep, if that at all.

For an outsider it doesn’t seem bad for (Y/N) to reread the same books and rewatch the same shows over and over again. Or having her best friend, the person she became emotionally most dependent on, talk with her through her nights.

But for Max, it raises red flags. It hits his alarm bells, ringing out loud that something is majorly wrong. He can’t put his finger on it, not just yet. He is still looking for a way to get her to tell him what is bothering her.

There is a certain uneasiness to Max during that entire race weekend. He is just itching to seat his ass on a plane on his way back to his (Y/N), a friend that he might harbor more than just platonic feelings for. A person that had his back all the time.

To the person he loves the most, that is also struggling the most right now.

He wants to be able to pay her back for all the times she stuck through his darkest times.

But something in him is scared that he isn’t able to get to her in time. “Didn’t you want to go out with a colleague of yours for drinks last night?” Max asks into the phone while speed walking through the airport. Ever since leaving his hotel room on this fine Monday morning, he has been on a phone call with (Y/N).

A sigh greets his ears. “I wanted to, but I didn’t feel like dressing up or sharing a space with a bunch of strangers. I just ordered some food in and watched your race.”

There is another red flag. (Y/N) maybe was never a big socializer to begin with, but she liked going out every now and then. But for a couple of weeks now the only thing Max gets to hear about plans is that she canceled them.

Listening to her just cutting contact with the outside world like that, it doesn’t only worry him. It’s not even scary. It terrifies him.

The two of them continue talking the whole plane ride until (Y/N) falls asleep. Even then Max doesn’t hang up. He still lets the call continue, not wanting her to wake up and feel alone. She doesn’t deserve to feel alone.

No one does. But especially not her.

When he was in karting, some kids gave him grief for winning most of the time. It was difficult for little Max to understand. So do people not want him to win?

It became more confusing to him since some people around him wanted him to win desperately. It hurt him, not understanding the difference of who wanted his best and who wanted to see him fail.

He felt isolated from his peers, especially those who should understand under what pressure he was, because they must feel the same. Right?

During these days, where he rather stopped driving in circles in a very fast manner and just continued playing football, (Y/N) was his only footing. She talked him out of ending his career in motorsport. She painted a picture of his future in the prettiest colors with her words. She gave him something to look forward during these trying times.

And when it got harder before it got easier, she held his hand and reminded him that she will always stay by his side.

Now it’s Max’s turn to show her that he will always stay by her side.

He opens the door to her apartment slowly, trying to make the least noise possible.

Every room is shrouded in what must feel to her like a never ending darkness. The blinds are drawn in front of every window, hindering the tiniest bit of sunlight to filter through. Even to Max it feels like the despair that is in the air will never stop. It is all consuming.

He tiptoes towards her bedroom. There she lays, illuminated by the low light of his phone screen. Curled up tight under a bunch of blankets and between a mountain of pillows and stuffed animals.

The MV lion, the first one that has ever been produced, the original prototype before giving the go for mass production, is held tightly and close to her chest. It pulls on his heartstrings, seeing the comfort it must have brought her while he was absent.

Max kneels down at the head of the bed, gently shaking her awake. “Schatje, come on. Wake up. We got a day of new adventures just in front of us outside the door.”

It’s something they started to say in elementary school. They once read a book in class with the premise that every day is the start to a new adventure. You just have to welcome it in. Back then, when inviting something unknown in your life was considered exciting, not scary or life changing.

“The adventures can wait a day longer.” She mumbles and turns around, trying to shake his hand on her shoulder off. But Max is having none of it.

“The darkness is fooling you. Every light that has been turned off can be turned on.” He gets up and opens the blinds. Sunlight floods the room, and even at the messiest state the young man has seen his best friend, she still is the most beautiful woman on earth to him

(Y/N) lets out a noise of unpleasantness. “Please Max, I can’t deal with it today.”  “No, you will. We are going to deal with it, whatever this it is, together.” He marches over to her dresser and produces a clean set of clothes out of thin air. That is what it looks like to her in this mess at least.

“You are going to shower. After that we will take a drive with no destination.” His words are final and in a tone that makes the young woman drag her limbs and body out of the bed and trudge towards the bathroom, even when the unwillingness is evident by her groaning.

Hearing the shower is Max’s cue to sit down and take a deep breath. He doesn’t know what he expected, but seeing the light of life missing in (Y/N)’s eyes isn’t on that list. It feels like a punch to his gut, witnessing her wither away without knowing from what.

It doesn’t take long and they both sit in the car. A drive without destination is exactly what it says. Just Max driving with (Y/N) sitting in the passenger seat. Usually they used these trips to catch up, to talk about everything and nothing. To voice big philosophical thoughts and dumb brain farts. They started this tradition, that usually includes some sort of fast food, when Max got his drivers license.

But sitting in complete silence for five minutes straight. That is something new.

“You know,” Max breaks it after another seven minutes. “Not talking about it won’t make the problem go away. It also doesn’t hinder it in its existence. Instead it will just get heavier and heavier until you break under the weight.” His dry tone isn’t something she anticipated.

(Y/N) looks out the window, seeing the colorful sunset for the first time in weeks. It’s easy to forget the beauty of the world when your inside thoughts feel like a graveyard. “I don’t want to worry you.”

That admission nearly has the Dutchman emergency breaking in the middle of a street through the fields. “So you play cat and mouse with your feelings because you don’t want to worry me?” (Y/N) nods.

Max lets out a laugh. “So what exactly makes you think that me witnessing you just becoming a shell of who you once were won’t worry me?”

She shrugs. (Y/N) didn’t expect him to catch that something feels wrong in her.

“Schatje. I will always worry about you, You are too important to me to not worry about you. Seeing you wither away in yourself, it made me scared going out on these tracks, sitting down in the car, and wondering if you still breathe while I’m driving another mile. Not knowing what you feel, that worries me more than the truth. Because then we can work on getting you better together. But when you don’t let me in, I can’t help and feel like by just standing and witnessing without intervening that I’m at fault for anything that happens to you. It hurts more seeing you hurting than knowing what you hurt from.”

She turns towards Max, mustering his side profile. She hasn’t thought about how her actions are perceived by her surroundings. (Y/N) just fell into that hole of darkness unexpectedly. While sitting at the bottom of that somber pit, she thought that trying to reach out for help would mean another person gets pulled into it.

If there was one person she doesn’t want sitting next to her in that dark hole, then it is Max. She harbors too much love and affection for him to want him to suffer the same fate as her. So not talking about her darkest thoughts seemed like the best way of keeping him far away from the hole.

But it just drew him in closer.

(Y/N) finally sees what he saw the whole time.

“You know, it’s hard to explain what happened. It takes time to really understand what goes on in me right now.” Max puts a reassuring hand on her leg. “We have all night to talk about it. Help me help you. Let us find a strategy to get you better. May it be medication, meditation, punching me or falling in love with someone. I need you to find a reason to stay with me, physically and mentally.”

She puts a hand over hers and looks Max in the eye for the first time since he arrived. “I already fell in love.”

He doesn’t need to hear more.

Max keeps his promise. He drives through the night, holding (Y/N) to the best of his ability while she cries, curses and explains.

By that not everything is picture perfect again. But it’s the first step. The first one to a future they both want to share with each other. For now and ever, that is enough motivation for (Y/N) to keep going, to continue turning every light on that was off.

[judes-hoe]

Bitter rivals, sweet love

Parrings~ Lewis Hamilton x OC

Summary~She’s gonna be in f1 for her third year and goes to a team no one expects her to. She’s always got a cold expression and only those close to her know why. Shes been close one to many times to winning a championship and this year she’s gonna get it no matter what.

Warnings~ google translated Italian, mentioned crying,

A/N~ so doing the Japanese Grand Prix and then after that skipping to the Miami Grand Prix, just because I don’t wanna write every single race or this series will be soooo long. So the I’ll write the Japanese GP cause it’ll be the first time of many of having to share a hotel!!!! Next chapter will be in Miami btw we skipping china lol but I’ll mention who wins it lol!!

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.6 pt.7

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vanessa had just arrived at the hotel room she’ll be sharing with Lewis. She settled down and laid on the one bed scrolling on her phone watching edits that popped up of her. She loved when the fans made edits of her, let her know she was appreciated.

Around 20 minutes later she heard a knock and immediately rolled her eyes knowing it’s Lewis. She gets up as slow as possible before going to open the door, when she did she was met with the British man with his suitcase. She rolled her eyes and walked in the room. Lewis caught the door before it could close and walked in placing his stuff on the other bed.

“Good to see you too.” He smirked. “stai zitto.” She said to him before going back to her phone. “You know I know Italian right?” He smirked at her laying on his bed. “non me ne frega un cazzo.” She said rolling her eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a couple hours later, now in the paddock for media. She just sat on the couch for the interviews. She was with max, Lando, Charles, and Carlos.

About 20 minutes in she finally got asked a question, “hello Vanessa, you have 3 races, that includes this one, till your 1st home race as you have 2 through the season, how do you feel.” The man asked. “Well I can’t wait honestly, it’s always a different feeling racing in your country, and as my fans know if I win my home race I wanna be edit to the song ‘Viva La Vida’ same song every year.” Vanessa said with a smile. “Why that song?” He asked. “Well there’s nothing behind it, it’s just gives me winner vibes, but to my fans again if you wanna make a more calm edit do white Ferrari by frank ocean.” She said with another smile.

They then continue with the interview and she gets a few more questions before leaving the interview. “Nessa wanna come to lunch with us?” Carlos asked standing next to Lando, Max, and Charles. “Sure, got nothing else to do.” She shrugged going with them.

When they got to the place to eat Charles leans over a whispers. “I saw Lewis going into your room about 25 minutes after you, what’s that about?” He smirked when he asked. “Toto got mad at us after what happened in Australia so he talked to our managers and we have to share a room for the rest of the season and do “couples therapy” and if we don’t fix our rival by the end of the season we both lose our seats.” Vanessa said looking at Charles with an annoyed expression. “You and Lewis have to share a room!” He said a little to loud making the other 3 men look at the 2 with a smirk. “It’s not like that.” She groaned and explained the whole story again.

“You guys can’t tell anyone though.”she said with a serious expression. “If I hear someone talk about this that isn’t any of us, I’m killing you all.” She spoke before taking a bite of her food which made the guys nod their heads quickly before also eating their food.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She walks into the hotel room after he lunch with Carlos, Charles, Lando, and max. She sees Lewis laying on his bed shirtless and his chest a little wet. “Your staring a little hard sweetheart, see something you like?” He smirks when he notices her. “No, and stop calling me sweetheart.” She said annoyed. “If you say that I’m gonna keep calling you it.” He said with a cocky smile.

Vanessa grabs her pajamas which was just a t-shirt her dad always wore, and some shorts. She then walks to the bathroom and closes the door and starts the shower. She gets in the shower and relaxes under the hot water.

Vanessa gets out the shower, and gets changed into the pajamas. She walks out back into the room, putting the dirty clothes away and sitting on her bed. “Who’s on the shirt?” Lewis asked her. “My dad’s favorite band.” She said not wanting to talk to him. “Then why are you wearing it?” He asked again. “Cause I can!” She raised her voice a little. “God you ask so many questions.” She said turning on her side so she doesn’t have to look at him.

“Didn’t have to yell was just wondering why you’re wearing the shirt and not him.” He said. Vanessa stops all her movements and just lays there, her mind going back to that night. “Because there’s a reason, now I’ll be back im going for a walk.” She said getting up and slamming the door before walking down the hallway knocking on a door.

The door opened to reveal Daniel in a shirt and shorts. “What are you doing here it’s 7pm?” He asked when he saw her. “Can I just come in.” She asked softly. He nodded and let her in and she sat on the edge of his bed. “Me and Lewis have to share a hotel room for the rest of the season as punishment by Toto and by the end of the season if our rival isn’t fixed and put aside for the team we lost our seats, and he just asked me about this shirt and I told him and he asked why am I wearing it and not my dad.” She rambles to Daniel and starts to tear up when she stops.

Daniel now knows why she came here, cause she felt herself going to cry and knows she’s only comfortable crying around him. “It’s ok, it’s ok darling.” He said pulling her in a hug and petting her hair. “He probably doesn’t know, a lot of people on the grid don’t know.” He said kissing the top of her head. “Stay with me for a little we can watch a movie and then you can go back to your room.” He said pulling her away and wiped her tears away. “Ok.” She said going to say in his bed.

He got his computer and logged in giving it to her to play a movie. Vanessa picked the first avatar movie cause it’s one of her favorites.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the movie she said by to Daniel before going back to her hotel room. She did have a key so she knocked on the door. The door opened shortly after to reveal Lewis, she rolled her eyes at him and went and laid in her bed. Plugged her phone in and laid on her side away from Lewis going to sleep.

Lewis knew something was wrong and said something to upset her which he didn’t like. He stayed up an hour after she went to sleeping try to think about it before falling asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vanessa woke up, not to her alarm, but to grunt like noises. She looked at her phone and saw 6am on it. She still had 45 minutes till she woke up. She turned on her side and saw Lewis on the floor doing push ups.

“It’s six in the morning why are you up?” She asked mildly angry. “Had to get my morning work out in.” Lewis said stopping a sitting back on his knees with a little shrug. “Well now you share a room respect people who trying to still sleep!” She let out a huff and got out the bed going into the bathroom.

Vanessa walks out the bathroom and now sees Lewis getting ready to take a shower. He walked into the bathroom when she walked out. When she heard the shower turn on she started to undress and get dressed for the day, because no chance she’s going back to sleep.

After she changes it’s around 8am now. She left the hotel and to her car to head to the paddock. Before she headed to the garage she walked around the paddock and ran into Charles.

“Charles.” She said with a little excitement in her voice. “Good luck this weekend I know it means something to you.” She said with a little smile giving him a hug when he leans in. “Thanks mon amor I appreciate it.” He said with a smile. “Well I’ll talk to you later need to head back to my garage.” He spoke. “Ok see ya later Charlie.” She says smiling before going to her own garage.

Vanessa walks in and sees him talking to Toto, but she walks in the opposite direction to Calvin. She talks to Calvin for a bit before getting ready for FP1.

In her drivers room she put on her fireproofs and then her suit. Grabbing her helmet and going to stand next I Calvin. “Ready?” Vanessa asked looking over his shoulder at the screen. “Yes put your helmet on!” He said patting her shoulder.

She quickly put on the balaclava, kissing the two names on her helmet. Then putting the helmet on and getting in the car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~skip to race day~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vanessa had done well in all FP, and managed to get a P3 in qualifying. Lewis in P2, max in P1. She had Charles and Lando behind her which he didn’t really care about.

They all lined up on the grid and the lights slowly flickered on.

“It’s lights out and away we go!”

She had tried to overtake Lewis on the first turn my didn’t mange keeping their gap close together, but also managing to get a gap between Lando.

A couple laps in, Lewis changed his tyres. Vanessa being able to take his spot and get a good 3 seconds gap while he was in the pit. Lewis getting out just in time to be in front on Charles.

A another few laps goes by and Lewis closed the gap, catching up to Vanessa. Max boxed so now she was P1 and Lewis P2.

The 45 lap is when Lewis manages to overtake Vanessa in P1 with DRS. Now she has to watch max behind her, just want she wants. “Gap between me and max?” She asked Calvin on the radio. “2 seconds.” He replied. “Good enough.” She says back to him which made him smile.

For the rest of the race she stayed in P2 having to defend from max a few times but built the gap back up, almost overtaking Lewis a few times too but just not enough.

So here they are standing on the podium now, P1 Lewis, P2 Vanessa, and P3 max. When they took the picture she made sure her a Lewis had some(a lot) of space between them with a half fake smile on her face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That next morning Vanessa left to go back to Monaco before the Chinese Grand Prix.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N ~ watch out next chapter it might be a little heart breaking and sad😭

Taglist: @happy-golden-hour @tallrock35

[yoru-no-seiiki]

YANDERE ! EREN JAEGER X READER HEADCANNONS

TW/CW: mdni, yandere themes, masturbation.

Have some headcannons while I wait for my henna to dry/watch the first season with my cousin.

I wish there were more who wrote for Canon! Eren. Like don’t get me wrong, Modern AU Eren is hot but I mean, fuckboys can be seen everywhere.

But Canon! Eren is batshit insane and that’s exactly what I love about him. I wish they at least add that to his modern counterpart instead of making him a basic bad boy but I mean if that’s what they’re into 🤷‍♂️

Anyways Exhibit A of why Eren in all eras is my fave AOT character:

Like I said, he’s batshit insane.

He has directly killed 2 people by the age of nine, and assisted in killing the third. Although this is out of self defense it still can’t be denied HOW HE TReateD THE SECOND DUDE HOLY SHIT- THE AMOUNT OF TIMES HE STABBED HIM.

Normal kids would just be terrified, maybe be even fight blinding and/or cry, probably even run tf away. But ya boi brought a knife and even deceived the person at the door.

EXHIBIT B:

He’d be a great yandere.

Let’s say that we age up our cast and make 18 the minimum age of enlistment (making him 21 around the attack of Trost).

Trainee Eren has the will of fucking steel. He’ll do whatever it takes to wipe out titan-kind, to make the cruel world he lived in finally know true peace.

To be with you in that new world he’ll build.

You were one of his fellow trainees. Someone who unconditionally believed and supported his desire to see the outside world. You didn’t treat him like a child as Mikasa did, and you weren’t so oddly distant when it came to his help and presence like Armin.

At first it started as a crush. An infatuation towards your looks and kind demeanor which morphed into a twisted sense of love.

You were the only one that understood him, that resonated with his wavelength.

He definitely frequently masturbated to your image. Stress was a known issue amongst trainees and soldiers alike. Many drank to rid themselves of such a problem. But to him just the thought of you two becoming one gave him relief and pleasure that any form of alcohol could never give. In the aftermath of the Trost incident, when faced with your unconscious, battered body he pulls a Shinji and jerks one off. Covering you with his release.

You think you’ll leave his mind once he gets busy with being a titan-shifter and the future of Eldia and such but nope.

Eren only has you and the new world he promised in his heart, body and soul. And that’ll never change.

EXHIBIT C:

Eren believes in freedom first and foremost.

So none of that kidnapping. At least in earlier years. He just wants you to be happy and safe. He’s more of the type to hurt others for your sake rather than be abusive and take away your rights.

Eren in later seasons has the capacity to keep you isolated, and that he will.

Like in other (unfortunately rare) fics of him, he keeps you in a farm land with a bunch of loyalists. If reader is afab! or has the ability to bear a child (for those with abo ocs or something idk) he’ll tell them that you are bearing his child and the future inheritor of his powers.

Otherwise he’ll come up with other excuses like having you as a tactician or war-hero they have to pay respects to.

He’ll give you as much freedom as he can provide while keeping you away from danger.

Though one might argue that his version of freedom for you is just an illusion.

[frozenjokes]

do we think cannibalism is a good idea yet? please? please do cannibalism?

“Hey, you okay, Mumbo? Can I come up? I’m thinking I’m going to come up regardless of what you say, but I’d like it if you just said yes.”

It was Scar. Mumbo said nothing. Scar hit his head twice attempting to get in with a trident, but made it on the third go, sighing with a dramatic ‘whew!’ There was a small silence in the wake of Scar’s arrival, causing the same agony Mumbo was sure Cub experienced when Mumbo smashed his ribs.

“Guess he told you,” Mumbo muttered, resigned to this outcome. Cub would tell Scar, Scar would push for more answers, and eventually the whole damn server would know something was wrong, not that they could do anything about it. Mumbo would not leave. Not until his shadow had its way.

“Cub told me you were really upset, yeah. Said he didn’t know why,” Scar shrugged, “Told me he thought you needed a friend. So here I am.”

“Ah,” Mumbo couldn’t even manage the noise without his voice slipping in a soft crack. Scar stepped toward the bed where Mumbo was curled up, moving to take his hand, then letting it go when Mumbo flinched.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” Scar said, so impossibly gentle, and while Mumbo most certainly would not, he didn’t want to say nothing; he didn’t think he could just say nothing, it was too much.

“I think I’m- I’m very ill. I’m having a- a crisis, I think. Mentally. I’m not well. I’m really not well.”

Scar hummed, low and thoughtful, “Want a hug? I could lay down with you, no need to sit up.”

“I don’t want to face you.”

“That’s not a problem.”

“I-Okay. I’m just. I’m just going to stay here. I’m just going to stay here.”

Mumbo felt the bed dip beside him, Scar muttering a soft, “Alright,” before sliding in and holding him in a gentle spoon. It was nice feeling Scar behind him, warm even through the blanket that separated them. Slowly, Mumbo let that heat consume him, felt his heart rate slow. And then out of nowhere it seemed, wretchedly, he started to sob. It was not unusual for Mumbo to cry, though most of his grief was saved for the end of worlds, the friends he’d never see again. So much of his focus was dedicated to staying in the moment, distracting himself, putting one foot in front of the other; stopping to sob was a waste of energy, a waste of resolve. It was giving up. And Mumbo was aware of what was coming, he knew it, but in each new world acceptance came later, the moment where the gravity of his soon-to-end life hit him harder each time, and today, it was hitting now. He could delude himself all he wanted that he’d hold on until the end of the season, but he knew he wouldn’t make it. He would hardly be able to stand more than a month of this. It was over. Maybe it’d be better to bite the bullet now. Stop drawing out his own suffering and deal with the hurt after it was done.

How selfish was that, with Scar at his back. With monstrous effort, he ground down the thought that this would be the ideal way to do it; turning around and tearing through Scar’s chest, disabling any means of fighting back, then taking his damned time. Mumbo cried harder when Scar followed his arm down to his hand, rubbing circles with his thumb into the back.

He would wait.

“Please tell Cub to leave me alone. I don’t know what he wants, I don’t care, I just don’t want to see him anymore. For the rest of the season, I don’t want to see him.”

“He wants you to eat him.”

Mumbo stiffened, a short, strangled sound crawling from his throat, but Scar shushed him gently, holding Mumbo’s hand tighter in turn.

“Just listen, lay here with me and listen before you freak out, alright?” Scar's voice was little more than a whisper, gentle force at Mumbo’s side serving to keep him still and as calm as he could stand to be.

“Why?” Mumbo croaked out, and felt Scar gesture vaguely with his head.

“He’s worried, mostly. He gets in his head about things, and he’s trying to solve them but he- well, he’s not the most tactful guy sometimes. I think he got scared when he saw you at the start of season ten; the last time he’d really seen you was after your break when you looked really bad.. He’s worried things are going to escalate to the point they did before, so he’s uh.. decided he’s gonna fix it. With cannibalism. When he’s talking about it to me it makes a lot of sense, but uh.. I mean, I guess it’s a little out there..”

“How do I make him stop. You have to- Scar, please make him stop.” Mumbo felt himself quivering in Scar’s hold, be it from fear or anger, he did not know.

“Oh, he won’t take it from me. I mean, he would if I was the guy he was trying to convince to eat other people, but he doesn’t always take secondhand advice like that. In this case, he’s way too zeroed in. You have to do it.”

“Well- fine. I’ll do it then, I’ll do it right now-“ Mumbo wriggled in Scar’s grip, but he held fast.

“Wait a minute- Not like that, no, not like that.” Scar almost laughed, but there was a little more stress there than anything.

“Not like what?” Mumbo huffed, annoyed. He pushed one last struggle, but gave in when Scar didn’t let go.

“You’ve got to be straight with Cub, you’ll put him off if you go about this too.. emotionally charged, let’s say. I’ll tell you exactly how to do it, I want to help you, Mumbo.”

Mumbo took a breath, then forced himself to relax, “Okay. Tell me. Please.”

Mumbo felt Scar straighten up behind him, then clear his throat, like he was about to address a crowd. “First, you gotta be as close to emotionless as you can make yourself. Fire up the coldest, deadest soul you can manage, and talk to him like you’ve just found out a close friend from like ten years ago got really sick, like really sick, terminal, and you don’t really know what to do, but the messenger of the news is looking awkward so you tell them it’s okay, it’s fine, but you don’t really feel fine, you know, your old friend is-“

“I understand, Scar,” Mumbo said, stuck between annoyance and a soft pang of amusement.

“Oh- alright,” Scar sounded a little embarrassed, but not offended, “Well I say that because Cub doesn’t- I know he doesn’t do this on purpose, and he’d probably be hurt if I said this to him so please don’t say anything, but he tends to take you less seriously when you approach him in an emotional kind of way. He really doesn’t mean to, he just gets a little confused I think, frustrated maybe. He doesn’t get it, is what I mean. He’s extremely bad at getting it. He’s sympathetic, but if you approach him and you’re emotional about it he’ll start thinking he knows better than you, in a ‘I’m just gonna take care of it for you,’ kinda way, which is completely infuriating, believe me, I know.”

“Are.. Are you guys okay?”

“Ah!” Scar jumped as if Mumbo had tazed him, “No no no! I’m just trying to explain it to you. I love Cub, he’s great, he’s the best. Literally. He’s just kind of an asshole sometimes. And he knows that, he doesn’t like being an asshole, so he listens when you tell him how it is.”

“Okay.. Then I’ll tell him I’m not going to eat him. And to stop bothering me.”

“No you won’t.”

Mumbo made a face, then gave in, “Okay. What will I tell him then.”

“You gotta tell him how he’s acting, right? You can’t tell him how what he’s doing makes you feel because he does not care, and he’ll probably tell you that, because when he’s made his mind up about something he seriously does not give a fuck unless you reach into his brain and shake it around a little. You gotta really take him by the temples and just shake.” Scar shook Mumbo a little for emphasis, Mumbo half fighting half chuckling as Scar dissolved into giggles.

“So I tell him that he’s being a prick and he should snap out of it before I get other people involved,” Mumbo sighed harshly, “Honestly, I shouldn’t even bother. I’ll just tell Grian. He’ll take care of it.”

“No, no,” Scar laughed, but it was a more nervous sound, like he knew just how serious Grian would take a matter like this, “That first bit is perfect. If you tell him that like you’re really serious- approach him first too, don’t wait for him to come to you- it’ll stop him right in his tracks. If that doesn’t work, call me. You don’t have to threaten him or anything, just make him see he’s not going about his business in the right way. I don’t do much more than tell him he’s being an asshole and he backs down. It’s magic.”

“Well- Okay. But I’m going to Grian if this doesn’t work.” Mumbo started to get up, but stopped when Scar squeezed his hand.

“Wait until tomorrow,” he said, quiet, “It’ll be better for you. Stay, rest today.” Even quieter still, he continued, “I’m sorry you’re going through something, Mumbo. If you ever want to get into the weeds I’m here, and you know Grian will be up and arms for you at the drop of a hat. It doesn’t.. It doesn’t matter what it is. To me especially, you have to know it doesn’t matter,” and with a small laugh, he said, “You could tell me you wanted to saw my head off with just your nails and I’d probably go yikes! I don’t think I’ll be very alive before you finish with the decapitation, but I'm free all day Wednesday, so we can give it a shot!”

“I’ll wait,” was all Mumbo could say. He hoped Scar would let it go now, but less than a minute later, he was speaking again.

“I just hope you know Cub’s got good intentions. He’s not trying to hurt you. I know it doesn’t always feel like that, especially when he can look you in the eyes and disregard your feelings because he’s more convinced he’s helping than he sees he’s upsetting you. I.. I’m also worried about you, if I’m being honest. It doesn’t take me finding you curled up in bed to know you haven’t been in the best shape lately. I don’t know the best way to go about this, Mumbo, and I don’t think- I don’t know if Cub.. I don’t always think he has the best way of going about things, but I understand where he’s coming from. I understand why. I know it’s difficult to extend him the kind of patience that you would for a closer friend, but please try. All of the hermits care about you, even the ones you don’t know well. We want to see you doing well.”

“I don’t want to talk anymore, Scar.”

Scar was quiet for a long moment. “Okay.”

…

Mumbo found Cub at the permit office where Scar told him Cub would probably be most consistently at least some part of the day. The idea of doing this in the permit office was most comforting for Mumbo, for the slim chance that Grian might also be there, might come up to Cub’s office and save him from the agony of this confrontation, though, the more logical part of Mumbo’s brain said that Grian was the wrong kind of person to convince Cub of anything. It was probably a good thing he never came in to work.

Mumbo had never been to the permit office before, but he couldn’t find an entrance, so grimacing, he poked a hole in the wall, replacing the blocks as he went. He climbed up the stairs with some issue (everything here seemed to be cluttered and difficult to find), then stopped before coming to the third floor, hesitating.

“Cub?” he called, feeling exceedingly stupid.

“Mumbo?” Cub nearly squawked, more than surprised, but this gave Mumbo some confidence, climbing the stairs to Cub’s office.

“Hello,” Mumbo said coolly, finding the even tone much easier to achieve now that he was face to face with Cub. Cub straightened his posture, and Mumbo, pleased to have gotten his attention, continued, “You’re being a prick.”

Cub blinked, then again a few times, but his expression stayed mostly the same. “Okay.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Yes.” Cub tapped his nails on his desk, looking thoughtful.

“I’d like to know what you’re going to do about it. Because if things continue the way they’re going, I’m going to have Grian get involved, and that would be a mighty pain in your ass.”

Cub nodded like this made perfect sense, “I think that’s fair. I do not want that. How about you sit down, Mumbo.”

“I’d rather not.”

“That’s fine. Regardless, I’d like to have a conversation about this so we can work out what we’re going to do next.”

“I already know what’s going to happen here, Cub. You’re going to leave me alone, cut complete contact, or I’m getting other hermits involved. That’s where this is going.”

“I would appreciate it if we could talk first, because as much as I’m sure you have plenty of words to say about me, I have a few things to say of my own, and I think it’s only reasonable that I speak my peace before you call in the dogs. You can hear exactly what I want from my own mouth and decide for yourself how you’d like to move forward when I’m done.” Cub closed his eyes, then opened them a moment later, “Because it doesn’t matter if you pit the entire server against me, I’m a damn stubborn cunt in the face of the kind of adversity you’re threatening, and the easy way out is here, at my desk. If you sit here and listen to everything I have to say and still want out, then I will leave you alone.” Cub eyed his own chair distastefully, getting up and maneuvering to sit with his legs crossed on his desk instead. He brushed away the few papers and knickknacks he kept, pushing them onto the now empty chair. “My desk chair is meant to sit higher than the one where a client would sit, but that’s all roleplay, let’s ditch the nonsense.”

Mumbo frowned. He considered calling Scar, but that wouldn’t help him here. He sighed. For the peace of mind of never having to deal with Cub again, this seemed a small price to pay. Mumbo climbed onto Cub’s desk, awkward with his long legs.

“Okay. Speak then.”

“I’ll only leave you alone if you listen to everything I have to say, got it?”

“Just get on with it, Cub.”

Cub rolled his shoulders, seeming quite content with taking his time. And then Cub’s eyes narrowed, throwing Mumbo a look so fiercely knowing that Mumbo felt it pierce straight through his bleeding heart.

“Let me start with what I don’t care about, because as far as shit like this goes, I prefer to lay it all out on the table. When it comes to the hobbies of this server’s inhabitants, slowly torturing, dismembering, and eventual eating alive of animals is pretty low of my list of Things That Make Me Feel Good but ultimately high on my list of Things I Don’t Really Give A Fuck About, and given everything I know about you, Mumbo, I don’t think you’re psychotic, I think you probably have a pretty good reason to do those things you do thousands of blocks out from spawn. And before you start squabbling at me, I found out in season eight, Scar knows because I told him, and I’m 99% sure Grian knows, but he never told me so and I haven’t directly asked him. I’m willing to bet he’s known since season six though, probably weeks within the first day he met you. If anyone else knows, I haven’t been told about it.”

Mumbo covered his gaping mouth with a quivering hand. He didn’t know what to do or what to say. Part of him wanted to lunge forward and silence Cub, but that wouldn’t stop him. It wouldn’t keep him from coming back. Cub did not look sympathetic. If anything, he looked angry.

“What do you need, Mumbo.” It wasn’t a question.

Mumbo didn’t answer.

“What do you need. What do you need? Why are you hiding it? What’s the damn point? If you need to eat, Mumbo, fucking eat, wasting away isn’t doing anything or anyone, especially not you.”

“It’s not about me.”

“Is it not?” Cub asked snidely, whatever neutral patience he’d been holding onto before evaporating, “What, you don’t want to hurt anyone? Are you a monster, Mumbo, because you have a little thirst for human blood? Join the fucking club! I can not for the life of me figure out what’s going on in your head- Do you think you’re better than the rest of us? Don’t want to stoop so low? What’s your damn problem! More than half of the server would lay themselves out on a platter for you on a whim of cannibalism related curiosity! Forget it if you need to eat people to survive; even the hermits you haven’t spoken to in months would cut themselves open for you! Have you opened your eyes in the past ten years? We’re all fucking deranged!”

“Shut the fuck up.” Mumbo felt the coolness come easy to him, encompassing him like black tar, “You’re making an ass out of yourself, jumping to conclusions like you can read minds.”

“You don’t give anyone much of a choice but to speculate.”

“Then I’ll lay it out for you,” Mumbo felt the rumble of a growl in his throat, expecting Cub to bite back, but he did not, silent, waiting. “Eating is not a matter of meat, not for me. Meat in the final step, but alone it is nothing, just a conduit. I need terror. I need hopelessness, despair, the kind that builds over years and years of terrorizing and watching your back and holding tightly to the things you love because you don’t know how much longer you can stand to stay, to hold them. Trying every avenue of escape, but it’s never enough. Drawing it out, leaving you alone just long enough that you think it might be safe, you think it might be over, but it’s never over. The only thing you can do is leave everything behind, find a new world, and hope to whatever higher power you believe in that I don’t follow. This isn’t as simple as asking for permission, Cub. When I finally decide it’s over, this world will end. You can not convince an animal otherwise. Animals only want to eat, grow, feel full. I will never be full. I don’t think I can be full. I can escape to sentience for a little while, spite that animal inside me, starve, but I have a feeling I’m only allowed to do so because it makes the upcoming meal that much sweeter. Betrayal, fear, hurt. To answer your questions, that’s what I need. You can tell the whole server, and it will not change the outcome. You can’t get rid of me. I won’t stop until Hermitcraft and all the history of its seasons, held in this one server, is completely abandoned.”

Cub was quiet for a long few moments after Mumbo was done, thinking, considering. “Right,” he said, almost like he didn’t believe him, the carelessness of that one word enough to make Mumbo want to bite his head right off. “That makes a lot more sense.” Then under his breath, trailing off, “..a little dramatic, but..”

“Does it.” Mumbo seethed, though part of him didn’t even know why. The callousness, the disregard- maybe he was angry that Cub wasn’t afraid because it made for a worse build up, a modicum less satisfying in the end. Maybe he was angry because Cub didn’t seem to care, and he should.

“What are you? Never heard of anything like that.” Again Cub continued casually, and despite Mumbo’s seething, his anger eased slightly at the question, reasonable enough.

“I don’t have a name. Over the years victims pass rumors of my existence around, but I’m hardly widespread enough to surpass the standard obscurity in worlds of temporary horrors. As far as I know I’m the only one of my kind,” Mumbo paused, shrugging, “Guess that’s not super likely though.”

“How old are you? You look like you’re in your twenties, maybe early thirties.”

“I don’t know. I tend to match the age of the people around me. It’s not a conscious effort.” Mumbo’s anger was starting to fade, replaced instead by a deep confusion, possibly a small amount of relief. He had very little idea what was happening here, what Cub was trying to get at, but he’d never been able to.. talk about this. Ever. Even his shadow didn’t seem to know how to feel, the both of them side eyeing each other from their places on Cub’s desk.

“Oh, I don’t mean now. I mean like- forever. In total, since you were born, or.. whatever created you.”

“I don’t remember when I started to exist. Atoms aren’t very concerned with the passage of time, nor are plants and animals. For the majority of my existence I did not count the years. Even now, I don’t count them like people do. I only want to know how long I can hold my sentience before it’s gone again.”

“Ah. So like. Really old. Really really old. Wow. I knew your body could change, I’ve seen it, but you can be different species altogether?”

Mumbo shifted uncomfortably at the idea of having been watched. He could not afford to feel shame for the animals he consumed, but he really didn’t like the idea that multiple hermits may have witnessed what he was doing and not said a word. He was always so careful- even then, if someone was following him, Mumbo was certain he would be able to sense their fear. Maybe he didn’t notice over the screams of jackrabbits. It was entirely too possible. Cub seemed unconcerned about Mumbo’s silence, continuing to ask questions almost like he was speaking to himself, like he didn’t need or want the answers because theorizing was entertaining enough.

“Can I see it? See you change?” Was the question that snapped Mumbo back to reality, the utter stupidity of the words rousing him back to life.

“If you’d like to see me lose my sentience in real time then paint the floor in your blood, sure Cub, whatever you want.”

Cub paused, almost consideringly, like he’d completely missed the sarcasm, “Maybe another time. What about something sentient? Can you do that? Like a vex- Like Scar and I! I mean, I honestly don’t know if the little guys are very sentient, so best not try-“

But Mumbo was already rolling his eyes, resigned to doing circus pony tricks, and the ethereal blue skin that painted Cub and Scar’s vex forms rippled across his own, dark hair curling into streaks of white, small wings fluttering at his back. Without entirely knowing what he was doing, he raised his newly clawed hands in a playful splay, hissing for emphasis, then let the whole change ripple away, returning to his human form. Cub looked spellbound, and the attention felt dangerous, appealing to Mumbo far more than he thought safe.

“That’s incredible! Oh, Scar would get a real kick out of that! You’ve got to show him!”

“I- It’s really nothing,” Mumbo rubbed the back of his neck, deeply unsure how to feel about this, but certainly mounting in alarm, “I’m not- I’m not showing Scar, I’m not doing that again-“

“Can you turn into other people? Can you look like me?”

“I- Probably? I mean I’m sure I can, I don’t really have limits, but this isn’t something I-“

“Try? Can you try? You don’t have limits? Okay we’ll go back to that later. Can you try?”

“We aren’t- we aren’t going back to anything!” Mumbo squeaked in his distress, but Cub was so genuinely interested, so genuinely impressed that Mumbo didn’t- he’d never experienced something like this before. So he gave in and tried, though, ‘tried’ implies there was any effort at all when in reality it was quite easy, basically second nature, until the change was complete and his mind seemed to double over on itself, the same but entirely different, thinking his thoughts but in completely different ways, stalling Mumbo where he sat, paralyzed by the horrors of a new inner working. Almost immediately he changed back, heaving shallow breaths as his mind caught up with the speed of his thoughts.

“Whoa- That was- Are you okay?” Cub stopped in his tracks, apparently failing to notice the internal explosion that occurred in Mumbo’s head.

“I am never doing that again.”

“What-“

“Your brain is awful,” Mumbo heaved, and Cub blinked, and Mumbo knew exactly what was happening, that Cub was processing, everything inside of him sluggish and those pauses, all those times he paused between sentences, it made sense now.

“You copied my body and mind?” Cub breathed, and Mumbo was still reeling so hard from the momentary terror of being in Cub’s head that he could not respond, “That’s- I mean maybe I should have guessed that might happen if you’re changing completely, but- I don’t know! I wonder why you reacted so badly if you were just me, because I wouldn’t have cared, I’ve lived here all my life. Maybe you keep part of your own head? The internal dialogue? Oh- Maybe you didn’t get my whole brain, you just got all the mental illness. In that case, I am very sorry. I bet you’d inherit physical problems too, the ones that don’t get fixed by respawns. Scar’s sickness, for example. Wow. That is really cool. I’ve never needed to cut someone open so badly in my entire life. Can I study you? I’m asking but I really don’t want to be asking. I know I said I wouldn’t pester you after this was over but I have way too many questions.” Mumbo was honestly shocked Cub could talk so fast in a brain like that, but then again, he hadn’t stuck around to find out the complexities. Maybe it only sounded fast because Mumbo’s own head was fried.

“Okay, so how do we kill you?”

Mumbo blinked up at that. “What?”

“If you go crazy, how do we kill you? Stop you, whatever.”

“Okay- one. This isn’t about ‘if’s’ so don’t get in your head about it. And you can’t stop me either, that’s not how this works. I don’t just die.”

“You can die perfectly well right now,” Cub pointed out, unconcerned.

“Well- sure. But it doesn’t matter if you kill me or not in any form, I don’t stay dead.”

“That’s fine,” Cub said, tapping his fingers impatiently on his legs, “Just tell me how. When you were hunting all those pigs you didn’t look like you got hurt or even bled.”

Mumbo huffed, impatient himself, “Well if you want to kill me, you’d better do it instantly. I don’t sustain any injuries if I don’t want to, the skin heals over as soon as whatever’s hit me is gone.”

“So if I wanted to keep you somewhere, I’d impale you. Get you in the head or heart, or maybe not some place lethal.”

“You can’t keep me anywhere, I’ll just change.”

“Ah, right. Then I’ll have to convince you not to somehow. How do you feel about peoples’ suffering if you’re not the one inflicting it? Can you tell the difference between a real scream and a fake one?” Cub talked casually like this was a simple matter of problem solving, far too animated, almost like it was fun.

“I- I don’t know, Cub, but I don’t think this is a very productive line of thought.”

“Why not? I mean, I’ll have years I’m sure to experiment on my own, but while you’re here and talking to me I think I should take advantage, don’t you?”

“You can’t stop me!” Mumbo nearly shouted in his distress, though Cub remained unperturbed.

“Is this Mumbo Jumbo the sentient human talking or Mumbo Jumbo the flesh eating terror, because if I may, you’re sounding suspiciously like the flesh eating terror.”

“You- You have no idea what you’re dealing with. This isn’t something you can stop or fight, Cub, I’ve lived hundreds of lives and worlds where everyone I’ve ever befriended has-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Cub interrupted him, “I don’t care. However, maybe you’re right that prepping for the worst case scenario isn’t a great use of our time because who knows how much you’ve got left. Let’s see what we can do to extend it first, yeah? If we can do that indefinitely, then there’s no problem!”

“I’ve already tried everything, Cub-“

“Have you tried cannibalism?”

“No, but-“

“Then you have not tried everything. What’s your deal? Why are you so against it? I understand your methods are a tad more intense, but who cares. Y’know, I bet this would be more effective against someone who isn’t going to see it coming. Scar is a prime candidate, but Grian would be even better for your purposes.”

Mumbo blanched, reddening in turn as anger brought flush to his face, “I am not going to attack anyone without telling them! What is wrong with you?”

Cub raised an eyebrow, then shrugged, “If you want to maximize the time you have with sentience, you should take advantage of the beginning when no one understands why you’re doing what you’re doing. For the purpose of farming enough suffering to last you, it seemed reasonable, but yeah, probably a little extreme. Still, I think you’re going to have to ease up on the ethics here if we’re going to figure something out.”

“I’m not- No, Cub. I’m telling you no.”

“Why?” It was Cub’s turn to be frustrated, scowling as he rolled his eyes.

“Because I would feel bad!”

Cub nearly hissed, throwing up his arms, “For fuck’s sake! Are we not past that? I thought your whole issue is that you make friends then torture them to death a thousand times before moving on and doing it again. Why do you suddenly have problems now that you have a willing participant?”

“Because I’m sentient, Cub!”

“You’re cowardly is what you are. Get over it.”

“Right, sure, yeah, I’ll just do that.”

“Great!” Cub huffed, “I’m ready then! Go on, paint the floor red or whatever you said about my blood. Get it all over. Give me a reason to be afraid.”

“I can’t. I don’t- You don’t get it. I spend so much time in this body doing my best to make up for everything I’ve done. I’m glad that you don’t seem to have a guilty conscience, but it’s not so easy to know the full weight of the horrors you’ve committed and the pain you will bring again because you can’t stop. What’s the point of spending the rest of my time here inflicting the same kind of suffering I will when I lose my head. You think you can stop it, but you’re wrong. You are wrong. I am past delaying the inevitable. Let me have this. Let me starve. I will do all I can for the server in my last months. I won’t live here just as I would live as a dog. It’s not worth it. It’s not worth inflicting, knowing exactly the harm I’m bringing and wanting more all the same. And that’s in the case that everyone here is magically okay with being stalked and tortured to death until I crack regardless, no, I refuse to believe even you would want to live like that.”

Cub stared at Mumbo for a long moment, searching, though for what Mumbo didn’t know. “You’re guilty,” he mumbled, like this wasn’t obvious, “You think you deserve to starve.”

“Of course,” Mumbo replied, struggling between his own shame and the hot anger simmering below his skin.

“I don’t think so,” he said, like it was just that simple. Mumbo opened his mouth to argue, or maybe just scream, but Cub interrupted him, “Regardless of what you are now, Mumbo, you are not human. You can take the shape of a person, you can do and feel the things that people do, but you are not one, not really. You’re something else. This ‘something’ doesn’t have a name, but you have different needs. You are not a person. Why is it so evil for you to take what you need, Mumbo? I mean, sure, you can’t expect to take what you need from the friends you’ve made and keep those friends all the same, but you are not bad for taking. You are hungry. You are hunting, and you are eating. It’s callous of humanity to consider themselves above this dynamic of the food chain. We are not. Nor are you, most likely. There’s always a bigger fish.”

“It’s not the same. I am far crueler than any animal you can name, and I know better.”

“Do you think dolphins deserve to suffer for hunting fish?”

“Cub, I told you it’s-“

“Many things eat their prey alive,” Cub interrupted coolly, “You found a renewable source of food, one that feels emotions stronger than any other options, comes back to life, and fears you greater each time. You are not a person, Mumbo, you are a predator that hunts people. It doesn’t matter if you ‘know better.’ You need to eat. You need it. Talking ethics, if you want to ease your guilt, you should limit the time you spend interacting with people in the body you’ve made for yourself, but even then, you’re only preparing yourself a better meal. It is not evil. People can hate you for it, but that’s not any different from how a rabbit might hate a fox. It is not any different.”

Mumbo quieted, knowing little of what to say. It was different. It was different because Mumbo hated doing it, he hated having to do it, he hated fighting with himself, and he hated being This. He liked people. He liked being a person, he liked living among them, he liked it all so much more than he liked himself.

“But I don’t want to. I don’t want to need it. I want to stay here, stay human. I want to be human. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well,” Cub said, voice softer, sympathetic for the first time since Mumbo had joined him on his desk. “That’s a separate can of worms, isn’t it.”

Mumbo didn’t speak for a long time. He kept his eyes closed. He didn’t want to see Cub. Cub, who was looking at him, looking directly through him.

“I guess so.” The words were so quiet, they hardly passed Mumbo’s lips before they were nothing.

“Well, here’s what I think, Mumbo,” Cub started, the softness dissipating in favor of something calmer, more logical, “I think you have a lot to say about what will or won’t keep you sentient longer, but for someone so confident cannibalism won’t work, you certainly haven’t tried it. So you’re going to try it. See if this can be a temporary possible-solution until we can find a more permanent one. I need time to work this out, and I refuse to let you keep starving yourself out of shame.”

“You- What? You think you can-“

“I don’t think I can do anything,” Cub interrupted, voice hard, “But those woodland mansions have a hell of a lot of books, and I happen to enjoy looking through them. Scar and I are always looking for something to do. So.” Cub looked back at Mumbo from where he was staring out the window, “Are you willing to try? It’s a little cramped in here, so I think it would be better to go somewhere else, somewhere I could run from you, if you like that. Outside might be ideal as well, so we don’t have to clean up so much. We could probably-“

“I- Wait, Cub, please wait,” Mumbo needed to interrupt him, needed to stop him, but when Cub did stop, waiting for Mumbo to continue, he found his mouth dry.

“What.”

“I can’t. Not yet. I’m not ready.”

Cub looked just about ready to kill him, and honestly Mumbo didn’t blame him, but the mental block was still there, he was just so- he didn’t even know, and maybe that was the worst part. He was scared. His limbs were stiff and numb, and even with the shrill screams of desperate starvation in his ears, he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Cub took a long, deep breath, barely holding on to his composure, “Mumbo, if we don’t do something to stall for time-“

“Eat me. Eat me first. Do it all, everything I would do to you, draw it out, make it hurt. I need- I need to know how it feels. I need this.”

Cub paused, eyes narrowed in thought. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Mumbo. You don’t need more excuses to back down. I’ve had my fair share of being torn apart, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’ll do it. I promise I’ll do it, I’ll eat my whole damn fill if you want me to, Cub, but I need this first. I have to know.” Mumbo had no idea where this had come from; the feverish desperation, but now it was all he could think about, knowing, he had to know, he had to face what he’d done directly, and then he could swallow this pill and move on.

Cub considered him, eyes still narrowed.

“Alright. Fine.” he closed his eyes, inclining his head then opening them with a smile, “We’ll do it in the labyrinth.”

[louaylorslut]

i watched it begin again…

story: in which harry and y/n meet at the cinema

warnings: talk of loneliness/sadness, overthinking, trust issues, little insecurity

just a lil baby fluff (one shot!!)

!not proof read guys im sorry im lazy:((

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The sadness you’ve been feeling for the last couple of days has been getting overwhelming.

You just finished your exams and you were over the moon to meet up with your friends, since while you were so busy studying, you barely got to see them. What you didn’t take into account however, is that you only have two friends, who are both in relationships AND also have multiple other friends.

So here you are, alone at home crying on your pillow yet again. You really wanted to see the new Inside Out movie, because while you were killing yourself over school, you kinda had no free time to watch films and you missed out on a lot. So you didn’t want to be even more out of the loop. Plus it’s a good reason to leave the house, clear your head a little, and of course meet your friends.

But both your friends had already watched it with their partners and it made you sad. You feel like they never have time for you anymore.

So you just cry, and cry in your bed like a lonely fucking loser you clearly are. Well I mean what can we do? It’s not their fault is it? Let them be happy. Be happy FOR them.

So that’s what you did, you calmed yourself down and sat in your bed and thought about life. You wanted to be free after this exam season, you promised to yourself you’d do things out of your comfort zone, you swore you’d live.

So that’s why you’re standing here, in que for one of the cinema’s of your capital city (that’s right you took the train just for this, to show yourself how adventurous you really are).

You’re a little nervous you gotta admit, but it feels good, you don’t need other people to have fun, even though you’re bit of a team spirit, you’re sure you’ll do fine on your own.

“Hi” is a word you hear but ignore

“Helloo” you hear the same voice now a little melodically, greet someone again, but now coming from closer, so now you turn the sound’s way and you are greeted with a tall guy with long hair and a kind smile, he looks sort of pretty really, but you don’t know, maybe it’s just the fact that you are really hungry for someone’s attention, something that he’s giving you undivided right now.

“Hey?” you reply with a small but kind, charming smile waiting for what he has to say, a little awkwardly, you try and not to sound intimidated but this guy does intimidate you.

He offers you a kind smile and asks something you weren’t prepared for. “You’re waiting for someone?”

You can’t help but be a little thrown by that, I mean why would he ask that? It’s either he’s a fuckboy and just wants to chat you up or this is some kind of new thing the cinema’s doing to make the que go faster, asking the people still in the que if they have a ticket, or it’s a third one and you look so desperate alone that he maybe wants to give you money because he feels sorry for you. Yeah, pretty sure it’s the second one.

“Oh, no” you reply with the same tight and warm smile, shaking your head a little “It’s just me” now that you think about it you’re cursing yourself WHY would you tell him, what if he’s a creep and he’ll follow you home? I mean it’s dark in the cinema you’ll keep an eye on him and you’ll leave early it’s fine. Your best friend said the after credits scene isn’t worth the wait anyway. You’ll be fine just play it cool.

“Oh, I’m sorry I wasn’t trying to pry, I just- I was waiting for someone…” the man infront of you confesses with some emotion in his eye.

You notice his fragility, you don’t really have the mental capacity for a heart to heart right now, but who knows, maybe forgetting about your problems can only be achieved if you’re sorting out someone else’s, plus you like to give advice, so, you’ll help the boy.

“I’m sorry, I’m so- I don’t know why I’m saying this i just didn’t expect it” he starts rambling and you see in his eye, besides the regret of him dumping this on you, the emotion they hold is disbelief? disappointment? a bit of bruised ego perhaps?

Now, you can tell he’s a hot guy, he has this skaterboy-but also rockstar look about him, with his black clothes, tattoos, eyeliner, rings and painted nails, oh and also -how could you forget- his long hair.

“You know what forget it, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for bothering you, I’m gonna leave” he says embarrassed

“Nodon’tleave-“ you blurt out a bit too loud and fast, before you could stop yourself. Mental fucking self palm. He smirks at that.

“I’m sorry I’m sure you don’t want my pity but I feel sorry for you. I relate- I understand I mean. I always end up rambling and oversharing and people almost never react how I’d like them to, and I don’t want to be one of those people. So, please tell me” you smile at him reassuringly while you both move forward in the que.

“Thanks love, umm that’s it though really, I was ‘stood up’ I guess, but I don’t really care I didn’t know her, like at all, but it really hurt my stupid fucking fragile man ego. It’s sounds so dumb I know, I just don’t understand why someone would do something like that?” he shares his feelings

“Wow, that’s a lot” You make a little joke, making it obvious with dramatic face expressions, he seems to get worried for a second, but then he gets it and laughs.

“O-kay, so I think, it obviously took a lot of guts for you to admit to yourself about that bruised ego, however, if you don’t care about her, you didn’t know her then you shouldn’t really care right?” you say and he nods but lets you continue “I understand that this is a sucky feeling, I mean I personally never been stood up,” you say and he moves his lips into a straight line “but I’m sure it sucks, though” you laugh a little “you might have picked the wrong person to pour your heart out to, I actually support women putting narcissistic men in their places” he laughs and tongues at his cheek “WHICH I’m not saying you are, but that’s how it came off, just sayin” he makes a playful smile, like he’s taking on your challenge of teasing “I think you should’ve tried your luck with maybe that girl over there” you say as you point to a brunette sitting alone, melancholy staring into her popcorn. He looks the way your hand is pointing and laughs “Yeah well I’m sorry but I already chose you, so, therefore, I need to complete my challenge, hate to say it” he says jokingly, putting his hands up in surrender as you move up in line

“Oh yeah? That’s the challenge, can’t give that up can you? “ you joke

“Oh yes exactly, that’s it,” He laughs a little “and if I don’t complete it I’ll cry myself to sleep, and you don’t wanna do that to me so you’re stuck with me for tonight” he jokingly pouts “Yeaah poor little baby, wouldn’t even dream of snagging an opportunity like this from you” you say sarcastically

“Why were you coming to watch a kid’s movie for a first date anyway?” you ask curiously as you arrive at the ticket check-in stand. “We weren’t” he says and you look at him confused, but before you are able to dig further, the girl behind the stand greets you.

“Hello I have a ticket reservation for Y/N Y/L/N” you say with a kind smile. You watch as she starts typing on the computer in front of her then looks back up at you with a smile “Yes, for Inside Out 2 right?” she asks “Yeah, thank you” you say as she gives you the ticket “Here you go, enjoy the film!” She says with a bright smile. “Hi, um I’d also like a ticket to that, if there’s any left” He laughs a little awkwardly “Yeah there is,” she says “where do you wanna sit?” she turn her little screen towards him while he turns to you “Would you like to sit together?” he asks, looking into your eyes “Sure” you crumble under pressure, why would you do that you don’t know, but that’s how you are, you didn’t even think about another answer. It’ll be harder to get away from him now, that’s for sure.

“Seat next to her please” he says “What was your row?” she asks you while you’re thinking and after a couple seconds you react “Oh, row 7 seat 12” you force out “Okay great” she claps her hands and prints and gives the guy his ticket. And this is when you realise you don’t even know his name.

So when you’re walking away you say “Okay 2 things before I forget or someone interrupts again” you says super seriously but he just cracks a lopsided smile. “One. What’s your name?” you look at him fully while walking up to the food-drink stand. “Harry” he replies casually. “Okay Harry, I’d introduce myself but you’ve already heard my name over there, so my second question is something I already forgot- hold on” as you think you arrive at the food stand and since the line isn’t long you’re already at the front.

“Hey I’d like a medium popcorn and a green tea please” you say and before you could even take a breath Harry ducks in “And I’ll have the same” he says “What are you doing?” you whisper confused “What, I can’t do you a nice gesture after you sorted out my problems?” he asks “Did I really though?” you ask in a high pitched voice while sceptically narroving your eyes “Yeah, you did. Really helped me there” he says with a pointed look “You’re not really gonna pay for this, are you?” you ask cautiously “Yes I am” he says firmly “Okay” putting your hand up in surrender “not gonna say no to free food, but don’t expect anything in return!” you point at him “Yes ma’am” he nods with a cheeky smile, dimples poppin out.

He pays, “Could’ve told me this earlier you know, would’ve bought more stuff.” you joke defeated, after letting him win, but still trying to have the last word “Oh, d’you wanna go back and stock up?” He points back from where you’re just walking away from with his eyebrows shooting up and his smile wide and playful “Just go in the damn theatre” you shake your head and you both laugh while you walk in, hand the check-in guy your ticket, he also tells you to enjoy the movie and then you go to your seats.

“Okay, what did I wanna say?” you ask while thinking “Oh yeah” as you remember “If you weren’t gonna come here with the girl, why are you here now then, of all places, to ease the pain in your sad little heart?” you ask ironically with a playful pout

He cracks an amused smile “Well, I’ve wanted to watch the film for a bit, but none of my mates know about it, I don’t think, didn’t ask I mean,” he smiles slightly “but I always see it on Tiktok, even before it came out, and I was walking by the cinema while my shame was taking me home and I saw it was playing so I figured” he shrugs “Well I think that’s great,” you say “didn’t think guys below the age of 13 would wanna see this” you say before you realise how that sounds and your eyebrows shoot up “NOT- I- I’m sorry I didn’t mean that to sound so judgemental,” you panic out in hurry “It’s fine” he says with a reassuring smile “I mean it like, it’s great, that a guy would watch this without shame like-“ god you are just digging yourself deeper “NO I MEAN ahhh god” you take a deep breath while Harry waits for what you have to say with an amused smile, he’s enjoying watching you struggle “What I mean” you start calmly “is that I know it might be like a stigma in society for men to not like this movie cuz emotions and stuff, but I think it’s really cool that you do” you finally finish smiling out, he smiles back “Thank you” you look at each other for like 10 seconds or so

“So” you tear your stares apart awkwardly, he clears his throat “how come you’re here alone, if you didn’t- I mean you said you didn’t get stood up or waiting for anyone” it’s reassuring to see him be nervous and stumble over his words too, doesn’t look like the type. He looks cool and collected.

“Well, I just finished my exams” you start off “Congrats” he says “and I can finally watch movies and do stuff, and just generally get out of the house now, but my friends, they’re busy with their relationships, and other stuff, and I sorta, didn’t have anyone to come with” you say with a week smile and then you form your lips into a line

“You’re not in a relationship?” he asks while looking into your eyes, like he actually cares, that’s nice. You widen your eyes, but quickly collect yourself “No” you say sheepishly looking down “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to cross a boundary I just thought maybe you’d come with them you know” he says apologetically “Yeah, no I don’t have anyone” you frown “anyone at all right now cuz you know..my friends, so yeah, been kinda down” he looks at you sadly for a beat “I’m sorry, I couldn’t tell, you don’t really radiate sadness” he says it sympatheticly, you feel like you made things too heavy and weepy so you quickly try to change the subject and lift the mood

“But anyway, let’s not talk about that, we got a movie to watch huh?” you say with a bright smile “Yeah right” he says smiling back, and you start talking about what you expect from the film by the trailer and tiktok you’ve seen until it actually starts.

During the movie you talk a little bit, and even though he doesn’t seem to mind, you kind of hold yourself back because you’re definetely a movie talker, but no one you’d met before had liked that so with that in mind, you keep your thoughts to yourself (no matter how much it hurts, you would’ve done that if you were watching it alone anyway) not wanting to upset him or ruin his film experience.

When it’s over and the lights come on, you guess you probably look ridiculous, you had bawled your eyes out to this movie, it’s insane how much it had made you feel. Harry looks at you and smiles understandingly. Bless his heart, he doesn’t make fun of you for it, probably because he felt the same during too, he just didn’t cry, but he understands.

“Omg I’m so sorry for you to see me in this state, I knew I’d cry I probably should’ve warned you” you say after whiping your tears “Nooo it’s all good, I almost felt like crying too so I get it, you don’t look so bad anyway” he reassures you “Thanks” you smile at each other and then keep walking out of the screening room.

“Hey” you start after a couple of silent minutes, he looks up at you curiously “I’m like thinking, how did you get stood up? You don’t look like the type. You don’t even look like the dating type.” you say a little carefully, not knowing how he’ll react to this. He smirks, but lets his eyebrows shoot up, feigning offense. “Yeah? What ‘type’ do I look like then?” he ask knowingly “Like aa- a one night stand type?” you say quietly. “Oh yeah?” he asks amused “I DON’T MEAN THAT TO OFFEND YOU, I just don’t think you look like the type who likes relationships or someone any girl would reject” oh god. “I mean like you look so tough and like you don’t ask girls out more like they are begging to go out with you, even for one night“ SHUT THE FUCK UP GIRL. He laughs very amused and decides that (no matter how much he’s enjoying this) it’s time to put on end to your misery.

“Sweetheart, you’re doing it again” he says with a warm smile and a kind voice. After you’re torn from your ramble, you have trouble understanding what he means “What” you ask quietly, feeling small “You’re not gonna be able to breath if you keep talking like this” he says and kinda sounds protective, it’s hot wtf “Oh yeah, sorry” you say as you realised what he means and you feel your cheeks go warm “Don’t apologise, I was just so worried” he jokes “Okay no need to be dramatic here sir” you say now more light-heartedly and he laughs along. “So” you take a breath, much calmer now “would you answer my question?” you ask and he looks at you with fake confusion “And that waaas?” he asks with a playful smile that tells you he knows what he’s doing, so you punch him in the shoulder “Just answer” you say with a pointed look, but still playful.

“Alright so, let’s see, one; am I a fuckboy who doesn’t do dating? If that’s what you were aming for. Yes, sort-of, I’m not a self-claimed fuckboy” they never are “i actually kinda hate that term, it’s cringy, but yeah my friends would probably call me that” he answers “Two; I do get a lot of girls, this one I’m guessing got told something that was probably fair, that’s why she didn’t show, did hurt though because as I said I’m not really used to that, that’s what I get for once asking someone out I guess, universe teaching me a lesson or some shit.” you nod along with what he said

“Although, she was rather excited when I asked her out, hopefully she didn’t get kidnapped” he says with a straight face, looking into distance and you look at him in shock for a bit

But then he starts smiling and laughing “I’m just messing with ya it’s okay” and then you laugh too. This was nice, you didn’t think it would be.

Sadly you have been standing in the lobby of the cinema for a couple of minutes, so you feel the inevitable but still painful end to this night.

“Well thanks for the food” you say “S’ no problem” he smiles back “I had fun tonight” he says “Well I’m happy I could take your mind off of the girl” you say offering a warm smile, but Harry’s expression changes to furrowed brows “Don’t talk about her” he says firmly “Oh I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hit a nerve or-“ you immediately backtrack “No, it’s not that it’s just, let’s not talk about her anymore, I had fun with you, you were the one I liked spending time with, I’m gonna be thinking about you for the next week, not someone else.” he says passionately.

“Oh well” you are quite surprised by that “i had fun with you too.” “I mean we did watch a movie so I’m sure that helped you too, but you know-“ he doesn’t get why you can’t understand he liked spending time with you, how you keep blaming it on someone else “Darling, it was because of you not the movie” he smiles looking into your soul. You are a bit flustered, don’t know what to say “I’d really like to see you again, if you don’t mind” he says with a waiting expression “and if you won’t stand me up too” he quickly adds “i fear my poor heart couldn’t handle that” he jokes with you putting his hand on his heart before turning his full attention to waiting for your answer

“Um yeah, I think it’d be great” you smile a little “And I wouldn’t do that, I’d text you at least” you tease a little and he smirks

“But-“ you start, becoming your trust issued, sensible, non love-sick self again. You hold up a finger pointing at him “you are not just saying this to get me to wanna fuck you” you warn him with narroved eyes “Because i’ll save you the trouble on that, I don’t do that, so you rather decide now” you say firmly standing your ground

He leans back a little intimidated “No, absolutely not,” he starts all serious and you can’t tell if he’s joking “i swear that’s not my intention at all. I mean I’m sure down the line if that’s what has to happen or I mean, you know I-“ he stumbles like an idiot. Again, it’s nice seeing him flustered too. “Okay Harry,” you start like a knowing mom, “give me your number, and I’ll decide if I wanna text you or not” you smile

“Alright” he’s surprised and flashes an amused smile at your boldness “here it is, Y/N” You type in his number and you’re about to say goodbye when-

“Do you wanna do something else? Get a drink or something?” he asks “No I’m kinda full” you laugh lightly “and I also have to catch my train so, I’m gonna go” you say

“Your train?” He asks “Yeah” you confirm. “I don’t live here, couple cities over actually” you say “Oh” he goes, like he’s really suprised and kinda? disappointed? “Soo, can I walk you to the station?” so you walk, and it’s actually quite nice, talking about yourself, him, your friends, his family, your interests, his major in college, his job. The sun is setting as you’re walking. You arrive at the station and he asks if he should wait for your train with you “No reason to, it’s gonna come in a couple of minutes, I’m fine from here” you smile like you’re ending the conversation “Well, then…bye” he says “Bye” as you smile he goes in for a hug but waits a little to see if you want to, you hug for what feels like a while but it probably was like 15 seconds and then you wave and leave. He turns around too and thinks about you on his way home, and when he gets home, and when he goes to sleep, and when he wakes up because he had just dreamt about you. And you do the same.

Maybe you have some weird thing with the universe after all, maybe your karma does even out.

[ploppythespaceship]

Superman & Lois failed Jonathan Kent

Since day one, I have felt that giving Jonathan powers would be absolutely, 100% the wrong move for this show. The setup is that one twin has powers and the other doesn’t, and altering that would fundamentally and irrevocably change the entire family dynamic.

So when Season 4’s third episode saw Jonathan spontaneously develop all of his powers… yeah. I was skeptical. But I decided I would let them cook. I would see where the writers were taking this before coming down too hard.

Well, the season is done now. And I still don’t understand this decision. Giving Jonathan powers has utterly let down what was once an excellent character.

This got long. Spoilers for all of Season 4 under the cut.

I usually see two arguments for why Jon should get powers. The first is that it’s more “comics accurate.” And I’m sorry, but that just doesn’t work here. The DC TV shows have never prioritized comic accuracy, and this show follows suit. Morgan Edge is not Clark’s Kryptonian half-brother in the comics. John Henry does not have a daughter with another Earth’s Lois in the comics. Bizarro is not from a parallel dimension in the comics, nor does he become Doomsday. This show’s entire thing is taking the original ideas and putting a fresh spin on them, while remaining true to the core themes of Superman. Being internally consistent and interesting is much more important than remaining true to the comics.

The other common argument is that it’s just not fair that Jon doesn’t get powers. He’s the more level-headed of the twins, the more openly warm and compassionate, the one whose temperament better suits being a hero. And my response is – yes! All of those things are true. It’s deeply unfair. And that was what made it interesting. Seeing how he deals with the lot life handed him is where his character shines through best.

We see how this affects him throughout Season 1, how watching Jordan take over his place as the star of the football team hurts. We also see him put that aside more than once in order to be there for his brother. But constantly pushing his own feelings aside for the sake of others leads to Season 2 – he turns to X-K out of desperation to feel special again, which only makes him crash even harder than before. He realizes he messed up, he tries to do the right thing to protect Candice, but it only makes everything worse. He’s expelled, everyone is upset with him for ruining the football season and for lying about the X-K. The season leaves him in a pretty bad spot, trying to figure out what his place even is now that he doesn’t have football, he doesn’t have powers, he doesn’t have much of anything, really. Which is where Season 3 starts to look up for him. He volunteers at the fire department. He finds a sense of purpose and belonging there that he’s never had before. And best of all, it’s completely unrelated to his dad or his brother. It’s something that he does just for himself.

I am not saying that Seasons 2 and 3 were flawlessly written. I could complain about Season 2’s messy arcs for days, and Season 3 just doesn’t devote enough time to this. But the overall direction for Jon as a character is still consistent, and it’s more or less satisfying to watch.

Then Season 4 comes and negates all of this without any good reason.

Now not only does Jon get powers, he masters them all almost immediately. He takes over Jordan’s role as Superboy pretty much right away, with no real struggle to speak of. And I do get it, to some extent. Jon has always pushed his own feelings aside for the benefit of others, so the first time he really just lets loose and stops holding back how he feels is when his powers activate. It’s almost like he was subconsciously suppressing them, and letting go is what allows them to finally spark. But it’s still weird to me, because all of those big feelings that lead to his powers developing then just evaporate. He goes from being so overwhelmed that he’s screaming and crying and punching the walls… to being completely fine and calm. What happened to those emotions? Does being able to fly magically cure all ills?

The only real conflict Jon has with his new powers is in Episode 5, where he struggles to balance his new obligations as a hero with the rest of his life. This puts strain on his relationship with Candice, where he debates whether or not to tell her the truth. And this could be interesting, if we hadn’t already done this with Jordan in Season 2, with little variation. Jon should get his own arcs that work for him as a unique character, not just the speedrun versions of what Jordan already got.

That’s another issue, to be frank. Jonathan and Jordan used to feel like much more distinct characters. And they do definitely still have different personalities, but with them both having powers and both having similar struggles, it no longer feels worthwhile to even have two brothers. Jonathan has almost become Diet Jordan.

What makes all this so much worse is how good Jordan’s arc is in Season 4. After Season 3 had him using his powers for all the wrong reasons, seeking fame and attention instead of genuinely wanting to help others, Season 4 sees him humbled. He recognizes that he isn’t ready to be a hero, and willingly gives up his suit until he is. And it comes full circle in Episode 9, when he helps Vicky May through her panic attack in the diner. He’s stepped up to become a hero in a way he never could before, and it feels earned. We know what it took for him to reach that point, the struggles he went through and how he’s changed since the beginning of the show. It’s incredibly satisfying to trace his character back through all the seasons and see what brought him here.

Jonathan, on the other hand? There’s no full circle moment for him. Because he doesn’t have struggles anymore. Getting super powers completely fixed everything in his life, apparently. He gets cool moments to be a hero, sure, but they don’t feel earned in nearly the same way Jordan’s do. The only thing he had to overcome to reach that point was not having powers, which just happened randomly, not due to any character choices he made. His character in Season 4 is just so bland now that he doesn’t have internal conflicts to overcome.

Also, I think Clark revealing his secret identity would have been more interesting if there was still one son without powers. It would elevate Jonathan’s internal conflicts to an even grander scale, put him through new struggles that we could then see him overcome. He can prove to the entire world that he does not need powers to be special – he has only ever needed to be himself.

And what gets me most is that if the writers absolutely insisted on giving Jon powers, there are ways to do it that don’t completely undermine everything that came before. Here are just a few ideas, some of which can be combined:

A simple one – what if Jon doesn’t master all his powers right away? With Clark gone, then weakened, Jordan is forced to step up and help train his brother. This would tie nicely into Jordan’s arc for the season, and lead to some great bonding moments between the two.

What if Jon and Jordan are each better and worse at different abilities? This was lightly implied at points, but could have been leaned into way more. Maybe Jon is naturally a strong flier and relies more on his strength and speed, while Jordan has sharper senses and relies more on finding clever solutions. Seeing them learn to work together and complement each other’s styles would have been incredibly interesting. (Admittedly, this is more an issue with the season’s pacing as a whole, not just Jon’s arc.)

What if Jon realizes that having powers kinda sucks sometimes? What if he learns that having super hearing that never turns off is actually horrible? Or that heat vision is surprisingly hard to control? What if he reaches a point where he realizes he doesn’t really want powers, and has to learn to accept his new normal?

Jon’s previous arcs have been about feeling helpless and unspecial. What if having powers doesn’t actually fix that? He can fly now, but he still can’t stop Lex, or bring his dad back, or regain people’s trust that he lost all the way back in Season 2. He learns that powers weren’t the answer to these feelings he has, and still has to find his own path to feel at peace with himself.

These are just a few things I thought of, but I am not a staff of professional writers! I’m sure there are much better ways to handle this.

It is just so, so frustrating to me that one of my favorite characters went so downhill in this final season. I can sort of understand why people were so excited to see him have powers, but for me, it will always be the biggest misstep of the entire show.

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 13)

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y/ndevils00 DOWN WITH THE WILD!!

oh hello, welcome back to y/n’s post-game show! i’m your host, y/n! today i’ll be discussing the New Jersey Devils vs the Minnesota Tame (because they weren’t very “wild” tonight!)

for the first time of the season, the Devils scored first with an opening goal from my sweet “bord och stolar”! (isn’t that cute?! Bratt-man is teaching me swedish nicknames! that one is “angel baby”!)

we didn’t get any more goals in the first, but dig-Doug DID get a penalty for tripping! he was reprimanded thoroughly!

however, we got not one, not two, but THREE goals in second period! giving us a 4-2 lead!! Uncle Tyler the Smiler got our first goal of the period, and less than a minute later, Uncle U-Haula gave us a goal! i love my uncles!! and late into the period, we got ANOTHER goal from my sweet Bratter! I LOVE THIS TEAM SO MUCH!

and no goals for us in the third, but that’s okay because we still won 4-3!!

Lukey assisted TWO goals tonight and was a star of the game for the first time ever!! i couldn’t be prouder of him!! he is NOT proud of me though, because i tripped on the way to the car and knocked him down like a domino… I’M SORRY, SMUSH! PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I’M WEARING HEELS AND YOUR BROTHER WOULDN’T HOLD MY HAND!

p.s. i miss my slut and i need my bestie number 1 to do something so i can be proud of him too

p.p.s. Maraschino Cherry would like me to inform you all that he, too, got an assist tonight and i’m very proud of him… kiss-ass

p.p.p.s. @/vlaroseefleury tell flower that it was nice seeing him again and thanks for not going too hard on us! i did not, however, appreciate him flirting with my boyfriend! please get ahold of your man, Veronique!

tagged jackhughes, john.marino97, dougieham, jesperbratt, tofff73, ehaula, and lhughes_06

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user83 aww why wouldn’t Jack hold your hand?!

y/ndevils00 because he was intimidated by my tallness 😪

jackhughes i was not! i wouldn’t hold your hand because you smacked my ass in front of the whole team and then said “it’s okay, my little red m&m, you’ll get a point next game!”

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes so you decided to blast THAT on my insta comments rather than let people think you were intimidated by me wearing heels that made me your height???

jackhughes i never win this mind game

_quinnhughes is this a show now? i thought it was a recap post

y/ndevils00 please don’t kill my vibe. i don’t wanna be miserable like you

jackhughes you keep saying you wanna get married, but i don’t think you’re realizing there’s only one kind of hughes: miserable

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes i’ll be the happy hughes! i’ve met your mom plenty, she’s happy! the MEN are miserable, and that’s the way it always should be!

john.marino97 jumping up and down in front of him and trying to kiss his forehead was not “reprimanding”

y/ndevils00 you worry about your punishments and i’ll worry about mine!

john.marino97 it wasn’t a punishment! he was laughing and eventually had to bend down so you could kiss his forehead cause you almost twisted your ankle! then you told him in a creepily happy voice “don’t do it again, hammy! okay?”

y/ndevils00 you’re just jealous that i love him more than you

john.marino97 i already know that’s untrue because you got drunk the other night and wouldn’t let me go and kept crying and saying you loved me and i was your best friend and that you would give up everything in the galaxy for me if i ever “wanted my teeth back”

y/ndevils00 well if i were you, i would want MY teeth back— i’d be pretty pissed if mine got knocked out

john.marino97 well you’re not a hockey player, so i would hope yours never do get knocked out

user02 DID SHE JUST TAG FLEURY’S WIFE AND DISS HIM?! 😭

user27 it seems like she KNOWS them?! HOW DOES SHE KNOW THEM

vlaroseefleury i’ll let him know! wish i could’ve seen you as well! and i apologize on the flirting, i’m working on that!

y/ndevils00 i appreciate it! miss you!

user15 why was jack watering his LEGS?! 😭

y/ndevils00 he’s trying to grow!

tofff73 did i just get a new nickname?

y/ndevils00 you did! do you like it?

jackhughes if you don’t like it, lie to her

tofff73 i love it!

y/ndevils00 oh yay!!

holtz_10 tablespoons and chairs.

y/ndevils00 excuse me?

holtz_10 you just called Jesper your “sweet table and chairs” . “angel baby” is just “ängel baby”

y/ndevils00 I’VE BEEN BETRAYED! @/jesperbratt HOW COULD YOU?!

jesperbratt Jack made me?

jackhughes @/jesperbratt hey! i didn’t do shit this time! this was all you!

jesperbratt yeah, i’m sorry, i couldn’t resist, it was too funny. i love you!

y/ndevils00 @/jesperbratt i’m telling Nicole!

jackhughes i wasn’t even acknowledged but i earned 3 pictures! i love you, pretty dove!

y/ndevils00 that’s what happens when you’re sleeping with the host! aww i love you too, babygirl!

jackhughes and there it is!

nicohischier how do you miss me? you saw me today

y/ndevils00 am i not allowed to miss you being on the ice? jeez! a girl can’t spread love, i guess!

nicohischier fine, i miss you too?

y/ndevils00 you literally saw me today, why are you so obsessed with me?

dawson1417 next game!

y/ndevils00 next game! for sure!

dawson1417 or the game after!

y/ndevils00 no. NEXT GAME!

dawson1417 oh, okay- copy that 🫡

trevorzegras ya know, i got a goal last night

y/ndevils00 nobody asked

trevorzegras actually, you did, last night. you texted me “DID YOU GET A GOAL YET? I COULDN’T WATCH! I WAS BUSY [MAKING OUT WITH] YOUR BEST FRIEND!”

y/ndevils00 i mean, that wasn’t entirely what i said, but sure, i guess i asked

trevorzegras i couldn’t say a direct quote, it was rated R for raunchy

dougieham that was a horrible reprimanding! VERY scary!

y/ndevils00 mhm! that’s how you know i mean business! i’m glad it worked though!

john.marino97 a kiss on his forehead means you mean business?

y/ndevils00 @/john.marino97 GET OUT OF HERE!

lhughes_06 i’ll forgive you, but next time, just hold MY hand if you have to! you almost broke my nose!

y/ndevils00 okay :( i’m sorry

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes go hold her hand, she’s sad

jackhughes i’m eating?

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes so you can’t multitask? what a boyfriend you are

jackhughes shut up, she’s cuddling LSH, she’ll be okay for 5 more minutes

ehaula i love you too, niece!

y/ndevils00 adopt me?

jackhughes once again, you have parents. AND a cousin who would lay me out if i ever let you get adopted by someone

ehaula yeah, i’m sorry, no adoption! we need your boyfriend!

y/ndevils00 why does no one love me?

jackhughes i love you very much! that’s why i cannot, in good conscience, let you get adopted

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes that sounds a lot like you DON’T love me

jackhughes please just get off instagram and cuddle with the cat

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes you can’t make me

lhughes_06 he’s coming to your bedroom, hide the phone!

[brucebocchi]

Winter 2024 anime, Pt. 2: Mixed reactions, the bench, and the gems

hey y'all, this is also up on my ko-fi! it's free to read both here and there, but i'm struggling financially rn so i could appreciate if you'd throw a few bucks my way if you liked it! part 1 can be found here.

And we're back for part 2! Here's all the new stuff I finished this season, and one more I'll get back to later. As with before, these are sorted alphabetically within each category and are not ranked as of yet.

Also as before, the OP for each series is linked in the title. Check them all out if the header images aren't giving you the right feel for each show, but also check them out because most of them were actually pretty damn good this season.

[Solo Leveling OP voice] LET'S GET IT!

Mixed Bags:

Hokkaido Gals Are Super Adorable!

Your standard, quasi-harem “easily flustered Regular Guy wins over hot girls just by being really nice” shonen romcom. I really don’t have much to say about this one other than if you’ve seen My Dress-Up Darling, you’ve basically seen this already. The only thing that really sets it apart is the setting.

Tsubasa (voiced by Nobunaga Shimazaki, in a FAR cry from his turn as Mahito in Jujutsu Kaisen) is a straight-laced Tokyoite whose family situation lands him in a small city in the frozen boonies of Hokkaido. While looking for the bus to his new house, he runs into a gyaru in the snowy wild, the underdressed, hilariously-proportioned Minami, and they hit it off. It turns out they go to the same school, there are other cute girls there who take a shine to him as well, it’s nothing new.

I ultimately don’t have much to say about Hokkaido Gals, but I do have a soft spot for series like this, and after reading ahead in the manga I felt obligated to see it through. This is all junk food, but it’s all stuff you’ve seen done better in other series. I also have a soft spot for gyaru in anime and manga, and while I do like Minami just fine, she isn’t Marin Kitagawa or Rumiko Manbagi. I don’t really have it in me to recommend this show to many, though, at least not until another season rolls around, if that ever happens. The manga genuinely does get a lot better as it goes on, but the really worthwhile stuff may not happen until a third season, and I just don’t see that happening. 

The manga has issues that the anime isn’t willing or able to solve, chief of which being the visuals. The art style of the manga is wildly inconsistent, and getting a mediocre animation team on this didn’t help matters at all. While the colors often pop nicely against the pretty, snowy backdrops, nobody looks all that great overall. The characters are recognizable, but they just plain don’t look great a lot of the time, nor do they look consistent from one cut to the next; I said that Minami’s proportions are hilarious, but just as hilarious is how wildly they vacillate from one scene to the next for the sake of trying to titillate the viewer.

My biggest takeaway from both the manga and anime was everything I learned about Hokkaido in the process, and if the series is taking subsidies from the island’s tourism bureau, then it’s a job well done. I want some goddamn jingisukan now. The OP is a great time, though. I’m shocked it took over a decade for us to get a proper “Uptown Funk” knockoff in an anime.

Metallic Rouge

I’ll be upfront in saying that this was my biggest disappointment of the season by far. This show had so much going for it, and what we got was… ugh.

There was an unbelievable amount of promise from the outset: This was Studio Bones’ commemorative 25th anniversary production, and coming from the studio that gave us all-timer adaptations like Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood and Mob Psycho 100, not to mention later works from Cowboy Bebop creator Shinichiro Watanabe (including the Cowboy Bebop movie), you can’t fault anyone for having high expectations. It looked to be a fitting production as well: Watanabe’s influence shines through immediately in the gorgeous, lived-in cyberpunk off-world locales and racially diverse cast. Action takes the form of dope robo-tokusatsu transformation fisticuffs, and it’s entirely in 2D animation to boot. The first couple of episodes were killer, too; everything looked and sounded amazing, and there were just enough plot threads teased out that I just had to see how they’d unravel.

It brings me no joy, then, to say that Metallic Rouge collapses into a jumbled mess. I don’t even want to bother talking about what happens in the show because I don’t fucking care anymore. There are few media experiences more sobering than to have it dawn on you over a span of several weeks that “oh… this isn’t actually all that good, is it?” Episode after episode piles on with sloppy lore, weak worldbuilding, warring factions whose names you immediately forget, pointless double-crosses, and the most predictable twist you’ve ever seen. For a while I was willing to accept the fact that I didn’t know what was going on half the time and expected things to become clearer, but now I’m not entirely sure the writers knew either. The stakes apparently kept rising and everything just kept getting more claustrophobic. I’m glad it’s over, if only because if I had to hear “Clair de Lune” one more fucking time, I was going to go ballistic. 

There are several attempts at emotional beats, as the story is rife with tragedy and sacrifice, and every single one lands with a wet thud. Nobody gets enough time, motivation, or characterization for any of these things to feel like they actually matter, and that’s especially a shame because the finale might have been able to stick the landing if the previous episodes were less dense and better paced. Emphasis on “almost,” though, because just before the season ends, we get the absolute most pointless fakeout I’ve seen since The Rise of Skywalker, which is the lowest point of comparison you can make for any work of sci-fi.

This is especially frustrating because on paper, there is so much to like here. Rouge and Naomi are likable-enough deuteragonists with a fun dynamic, and they’d make easy yuri bait in a better show. The characters are all pretty and uniquely designed across the board, and the overall aesthetic, almost a pastiche of late-90’s anime futurism, is undeniable. The toku suit designs are neat and several of the action scenes are gorgeous. The score and soundtrack are outstanding (except for the aforementioned Debussy indulgence). I have few complaints about how the show looks and sounds; the style is great! All of my issues lie with the substance.

Metallic Rouge may have had all the ingredients, but it just needed more time to cook; whether that would have been by doubling the episode count or by more carefully planning the pacing and trimming some of the fat from the lore, I’m still not sure. Probably both. It probably needed better writers, too. Maybe it just isn’t as smart as it acts and there was no way to satisfyingly resolve the clumsy civil rights allegories that bring it uncomfortably close to the likes of Detroit: Become Human. So all of the above, I guess. I tend to adore stories that involve artificially-intelligent beings developing their own wills and emotions and learning to cut their own strings (the likes of Blade Runner, Nier Automata, even a couple of character arcs in the Persona series), but this ain’t it. I’m not even mad anymore. I’m just disappointed.

If there are two positives that will stick with me, though, they would be the absolute banger of an OP and, of course, Naomi Orthmann herself (pictured above, left). Outstanding character design. I’m mildly obsessed. She deserved a better show.

The Unwanted Undead Adventurer

This one isn’t even worth talking about, so here’s a brief synopsis, then I’ll add some commentary, and then we’ll all move on with our lives. 

Rentt, a beloved but mediocre adventurer in a fantasy town, gets lost in the mysterious labyrinth that all adventurers explore for personal gain, gets waxed by a dragon, and awakens as a shitty-looking CGI skeleton. He notices, though, that he’s able to level up better as a skeleton than he did as a human, and with the more monsters he defeats, the more he evolves into something closer to human. The rest isn’t really worth discussing.

If I’m being honest, I should’ve dropped this show much sooner. It looks kinda lousy most of the time, the plot (inasmuch as there even is one) is boring, character designs are forgettable (except for Rentt’s closest ally, Lorraine, holy hell) and it seems wholly uninterested in actually building its own setting. If it returns for a second season, I won’t be there, nor will I feel like I’m missing anything. Each episode felt like a chore to watch. I probably only saw it through because 1) I liked looking at Lorraine, I know what I’m about, and 2) I didn’t want to lump it in with the shows I did drop. The Unwanted Undead Adventurer isn’t as patently upsetting or frustrating as those three, but it just plain isn’t a very good show.

The Witch and the Beast

This show could have been so much more. I was drawn in by the gorgeous character designs and intriguing blend of Victorian gothic aesthetics and architecture with modern infrastructure, and very quickly disappointed by just about everything else. The first episode is an exceptional proof of concept, and almost everything that follows is an upsetting showcase of what could have been.

The story centers around Ashaf, a languid, chain-smoking agent of the governing church with a big-ass coffin strapped to his back, and his partner Guideau, a snarling hyena in a young woman’s body, as they investigate abuses of magic across the continent in search of nefarious witches. Guideau in particular has a bone to pick with witches, as the body they presently inhabit is the result of a witch’s curse, and they remain in furious pursuit of the one who cursed them. The curse can be temporarily undone by a kiss with a witch, allowing Guideau’s true body, a hulking brute confined to the coffin, to escape and wreak havoc. Meaning that on a few occasions we get a girl-on-girl kiss followed by a big dude wrecking shit. There’s also other investigations of serial killings, necromancy, and a cursed sword, and here’s hoping you like those, because the coffin breaks are few and far between.

This wasn’t great! By the third episode I had the sneaking suspicion that the animation talent on hand just wasn’t enough to support the aesthetic. While the character designs are exceptional, almost everyone looks awful in any shot that isn’t completely focused on them. This is especially true of Guideau, who looks so inconsistently off-model from one shot to the next that I’m still not entirely sure what they’re supposed to look like, and that’s kind of unforgivable when we’re talking about a main character. Everything looks too dim and too shiny at the same time, and action scenes look like shit more often than they look interesting. I can see so many flickers of something excellent (or at least really good-looking) in Witch and the Beast, and everything else that keeps those flickers from actually igniting makes it so much more frustrating to watch. Maybe just read the manga instead; the panels I've seen from it were uniformly gorgeous.

Actually, yeah, you should probably just read the manga, because for a season of anime, the pacing is atrocious too. It’s clearly trying to angle for a monster-of-the-week format, but each of these mini-arcs is a little too dense for a single episode, so multiple episodes are dedicated to these one-off curiosities, most of which do nothing to advance the plot or show off what the show does best. And if one of them isn’t particularly interesting, you’re saddled with it for the next two weeks like you've been stuck munching on a mealy apple. And I know you can only adapt so much in a 12-episode season, but the decision to end the season on a flashback arc and a lore dump was baffling. That’s not world-building, that’s lazy, and it made the show’s existing pacing issues feel that much more inane.

I feel like I was sold a false bill of goods. I can only imagine how the mangaka feels about this. Dull and uninspiring all around. What a waste.

The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic

Isekai, unassuming high school boy gains a unique power, impending war with the Demon Lord, yadda yadda yadda. The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic isn’t anything new or special by any means, nor is it particularly well-animated or -paced, but at its best it’s silly and charming enough that it made a nice, brainless palate cleanser on Fridays.

Usato, your standard quiet high schooler, ends up walking home on a rainy evening with the popular, attractive student council president and VP, when an isekai portal happens. It turns out that it was just the seito-kai that was invited along for the ride (and President Suzune, as it turns out, is fucking psyched to get to be in an isekai), and Usato got caught along with them. When tested for magical aptitude, Suzune and VP Kazuki hit the jackpot with electric and light affinities, respectively, but things go awry when Usato’s reading turns up with healing magic. Terror strikes the palace as the intimidating dommy-mommy Captain Rose barges in to spirit Usato away from his new friends and into her squadron of goons to train him as a combat medic.

As character comedy goes, this one is actually pretty solid at times. Shogo Sakata is plenty of fun as the put-upon, lippy Usato (a much louder role than Chainsaw Man’s Aki Hayakawa), and Atsuko Tanaka (Major Kusanagi herself!) is a blast as the terrifying Rose, an uncompromising slave driver of a drill sergeant with a secret soft side. The dynamic between them is great, too; Usato is over Rose’s shit from the beginning and isn’t afraid to talk back to her, but before you know it, this transforms into friendly banter as Rose clearly takes a shine to Usato and knows he can handle any punishment she doles out. Suzune’s also a bunch of fun now that she’s broken away from having to be the competent, popular girl at school and gets to fully lean into being a complete dork.

Wrong Way also works decently as an isekai, because it makes an effort to stay rooted in high fantasy rather than fall back on JRPG mechanics, meaning there are no stat screens! It also avoids the trappings of wish-fulfillment isekai series by having Usato start out as a regular-ass guy; he’s not a Kirito type, just someone Rose sees as a rough gem in need of cutting. There are no cheat skills or OP weapons or anything, just a kid training every day to get stronger so he can protect the people close to him, and that’s the kind of anime protagonist you should want to be.

For better and for worse, I get serious mid-00s vibes from this one; watch the OP if you don’t believe me. Some of the colors pop uncannily in that early-digipaint-era way, and the animation is pretty middling; the most fluid animation we see is whenever Suzune is acting like a creep. Much like those mid-00s anime, though, Wrong Way may have benefited from being weekly (or twice as long) rather than seasonal. There’s a ton of planting with very little payoff, and it doesn’t feel like the actual scope of the story has even been addressed yet. We don’t even learn why the series has the name it does until someone literally says it aloud in the 11th episode. I may have to reevaluate this season after a possible second, if we ever get one, because this doesn’t stand too well on its own.

Of the anime in this “mixed bags” segment, I’d say I enjoyed Wrong Way the most, but it still had enough problems for me to keep it here. It’s not a particularly bad anime, but it’s not especially good either. I guess we can slot it into what Hazel refers to as “good mid.”

On Hold: 

Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?! (three episodes watched)

Man, what a title. That was the main draw for this BL series, which on paper is basically a gay version of the Mel Gibson vehicle What Women Want. 

Adachi (a surname that will always make me laugh thanks to Persona 4), a gloomy salaryman, has hit the big 3-0 without getting any, and now he can somehow read anyone’s thoughts just by making physical contact with them. Just as he laments that this is his life now, he accidentally bumps into his handsome, popular coworker, Kurosawa, whom he learns has been harboring a massive crush on Adachi this whole time. Well dang, what now? Kurosawa’s a really nice, thoughtful dude, but Adachi’s never even thought about being with a man before! And isn’t there something wrong with already knowing this secret? How can he even go into the office and look Kurosawa in those big, handsome eyes… every single day…

What I’ve seen so far has been pretty solid, if not particularly well animated. The visuals are really my only gripe here; I just put it off for way too long and didn’t have it in me to finish it on time to actually get this thing written and published. Yaoi isn’t my forte, which feels like a shortcoming on my end as a fledgling bisexual, and I’ve already remarked on the solid LGBT representation this past season, so I do plan on hopping back on this one.

I gotta say, the co-leading voice actors put in serious work this season. Adachi is voiced by Chiaki Kobayashi, who continued his role as Stark in Frieren, returned to Mashle as Mash Burnedead, and contributed to Metallic Rouge’s cluttered cast as Noid. Kurosawa’s seiyuu, Ryota Suzuki (of whom I’ll always be a fan for his masterful turn as Yu Ishigami in Kaguya-sama), also held down leading roles in Bang Brave Bang Bravern and The Unwanted Undead Adventurer. They’ve been great in the few episodes of Cherry Magic! that I’ve seen so far, and they’ll be a huge part of what brings me back.

The Gems:

Bang Brave Bang Bravern

I feel like the mark of a perfectly audacious piece of media is in the moments where I find myself incredulously shouting “WHAT THE FUCK AM I WATCHING” at the screen, and Bravern made me do that at least once per episode. I have so many things to say about what makes this show great but all of it can be summed up as “it fucks so goddamn hard.”

A joint military exercise in Hawaii between Japanese and American mech pilots goes south as a sudden invasion by metalloid aliens portends certain doom for humanity. Just in the nick of time, though, a bombastic, autonomous mech named Bravern arrives from space and insists that ace pilot Isami Ao take his reins. Isami reluctantly agrees, and to his consternation, Bravern goes full tokusatsu on everyone’s asses, complete with fully-diegetic theme music, and keeps the threat at bay. With Bravern continuing to pester him to act as a pilot, Isami is forced to take up the mantle of a reluctant hero as everyone rallies around Bravern to save Earth. Tagging along is blond-haired, blue-eyed American pilot Lewis Smith, who gets to live out all of his Top Gun fantasies, right down to the latent homosexuality.

That last point isn’t a projection or anything: This show is legitimately gay as hell, and it rules. Bravern’s feelings towards Isami feel far more romantic than what you’d expect from a literal robot, and his description of how it felt to have Isami pilot him for the first time, as relayed to a grim-faced military council, is riddled with hilarious innuendo. Isami struggles not only with shouldering the burden of needing to be a hero to all of humanity, but also being beset on both sides by a loud, insistent mecha and a dewy-eyed gaijin, both of whom very well seem to want to get in his pants. Intricate rituals punctuate Isami and Lewis’ angsty relationship as these broad-shouldered, muscular men grow ever closer. It’s also worth reiterating that Isami is voiced by Ryota Suzuki, who also voiced Kurosawa in Cherry Magic!, and that may not have even been his gayest role this season. I’m not super well-versed in mecha as a genre, but I do know that there’s a lot of Warrior’s Bond-type stuff in these series, and Bravern lays it on thick. And hard.

This show looks killer, by the way. CGI implementation in 2D anime is still a touchy subject, but Bravern features some of the best I’ve ever seen. Simple cel-shading goes a long way to the point where, outside of some uncanny motion, Bravern himself feels perfectly blended into the hand-drawn animation. Mecha designs range from realistic military-style tech to otherworldly sentient robots, and battle sequences run the same gamut as the stakes rise. As goofy as all of the above may sound, it’s committed to being a grandiose, big-time mecha showcase.

This is as good as camp gets in anime; Bravern does for the mecha genre what Akiba Maid War did for yakuza film pastiche (I have also heard positive comparisons to Samurai Flamenco, which I’ll have to get on ASAP). It’s an excellent mecha show in its own right, and wildly hilarious to boot. Bravern himself is very genre-savvy and seemingly a bit of an otaku himself; he loves acting like a mecha hero, to everyone else’s chagrin. Several of the villains (also mechanical beings, voiced by an all-star seiyuu roster that includes Kenjiro Tsuda, the aforementioned Atsuko Tanaka, and Rie Kugimiya) are total dorks themselves. A CIA interrogator tries to waterboard a mecha at one point. Bravern is a deeply silly show, but its heart is planted as firmly on its sleeve as its tongue is in its cheek: For as wacky as it can get, the story still unfolds with a straight face and excellent emotional beats. 

This show also has the most unskippable ED of any anime since Chainsaw Man dropped a new one every week. I will not say what happens. You cannot predict what it is. Just watch it. One of the top YouTube comments on that video says “When I saw this ending after episode 2, I thought I was going crazy.” That’s a ringing endorsement.

Chained Soldier

On the heels of 100 Girlfriends completely rewiring my brain, I was raring for some more good old-fashioned anime trash. I was told that there would be plenty this season, but you can consult the “dropped” section to see how well that worked out for me. Chained Soldier came with some significant hype, and soon enough into the first episode I realized that I’d actually skimmed through this manga before (don’t ask why), so I was on board immediately. Now here’s some nice trashy fun.

The world is in peril thanks to creatures called Shuuki that can advance on our world via portals from another dimension. Women primarily lead the charge against these monsters, as this dimension produces a special fruit that can lend them (and not men) otherworldly powers to help them in the fight. Yuuki, a perfectly normal young man, ends up in grave danger as he stumbles into a portal, where he is saved by the beautiful Kyouka, a commander who is able to subjugate Shuuki at will and use them to fight others. In a bind, she asks Yuuki if she can subjugate him, which he agrees to by licking her finger and transforming into a monster himself, at her beck and call. Because of his utility in battle, Yuuki is enlisted into her squad of baddies (and also an 11-year-old), living in their home as a caretaker and answering directly to Kyouka as her “slave.”

I know. Hear me out.

I put “slave” in scare quotes because Chained Soldier fortunately isn’t going full Shield Hero on us; this arrangement has a give-and-take baked in. See, every time Yuuki completes his service, Kyouka (or whomever else takes advantage of this anomaly) is compelled to carry out whatever suitable “reward” springs from his unconscious, and this is where the ecchi kicks in. Sometimes it’s a kiss, and sometimes it’s something a little more; the reward corresponds to the length and intensity of Yuuki’s contributions to battle, so the heat can turn up in the form of, say, clothed face-sitting, a good scrubbing in the bath, or some nice, casual CBT. All of this is to say that “slave” is a bit of a buzzword here: It’s more of a dom/sub situationship with a lot of extra steps.

Yes, just about everything that isn’t an action setup is full-on harem trash, and Chained Soldier lays it on thick, right down to full-on nudity. Nothing about this show resembles high art, but I can’t help but admire such a high level of commitment to its aesthetic, including the sleaze. It fully commits to the bit and doesn’t even bother lampshading its own trashiness. Chained Soldier knows what it’s about, and I respect that. It also has the good sense not to sexualize the youngest girl, which is a point in its favor that I can’t award a couple other shows previously discussed.

And while this show is plenty fun, the action sequences often excellent, and the character designs usually delightful, there’s not actually a whole lot going on here. As I said with Mashle, I know that battle manga like this can take a minute to really get cooking, and as I said with Witch and the Beast, 12 episodes may not always be a sufficient runtime to adapt enough to break ground, but the debut season feels more like a proof of concept than anything else. That being said, Chained Soldier’s manga has a very effusive audience, and its praises don’t seem to entirely be about the boobs and butts, so I’ll wait patiently for the second season. I think it’s earned that much.

Delicious in Dungeon

This is the one I’m having the hardest time writing about because it so confidently and so completely speaks for itself that anything I could add would feel like scattering sawdust at the beach. Dungeon Meshi (I refuse to call it by its official English title) is a widely beloved manga among those who’ve read it, and for Studio Trigger to do an honest-to-goodness manga adaptation for the first time might as well be front page news among anime fans. 

The story follows Laios, the deeply weird human hero, as he delves back into a bizarre and mysterious dungeon to rescue his sister Falin from the belly of a dragon, along with his misfit party: The neurotic half-elven mage Marcille, the temperamental halfling rogue Chilchuck, and the dwarven warrior-slash-chef Senshi. The party is frequently low on supplies, so to survive the trip they’ll need to subsist on the most abundant resource in the dungeon: Monsters. Senshi’s aptitude in the kitchen helps ensure that everything is edible and sufficiently tasty, regardless of how nasty the monster it came from may have been. With monster obstructions out of the way and their bellies filled, our party delves deeper into the dungeon as the mysteries deepen in kind.

I love the character dynamics in this so goddamn much. Marcille and Chilchuck are frequently put off by the dubious monster food presented to them, but their consternation is worsened by the fact that Laios’ fascination with the monsters it came from annoys the shit out of them. I referred to him as “deeply weird,” but that doesn’t begin to describe his absolute galaxy brain, and I mean it as a term of endearment. Laios is deeply knowledgeable and curious about the fauna in the dungeon, and not just how they taste: He is vocally curious about how certain monster attacks may feel, sings along with siren songs, and even keeps a hardcover bestiary inside his breastplate. He’s one of those people you turn to if you have a question on a hyperspecific subject, but you have to be careful how you ask it or else you’re trapped for the next two hours. And I love him for it.

Even putting the comedy aside, there is a fascinating human element at play in Dungeon Meshi, and I can tell that that surface has barely even been scratched yet. Marcille is just as dogged in her pursuit of saving Falin as Laios is, maybe even moreso (remember what I keep saying about LGBT representation this season?). Chilchuck continues to convince himself that he’s only in the job for his own personal gain, but you can see that mask slipping. And I still wanna know what Senshi’s deal is. Even with the five major players I listed, there’s an increasingly deep roster surrounding them—showcasing a broad spectrum of races and ethnicities, both real and fantastical—each with their own histories and motivations, and I cannot wait to see how they play out and interact with one another. There seem to be much deeper themes at play here as well as we learn more about perceptions and grudges between differing races, oppositional magics, clashing ideologies, and the monetary incentives that drive both the dungeon’s exploration and its very existence. I’m here for it.

I’ve been holding off on reading the manga until the season is up in June (though I could crack any day), but I know a loving adaptation when I see one. Not that Trigger ever slacks off in the animation department, but they absolutely brought their A-game here. Everyone looks bouncy and cartoony in the way only Trigger can pull off while still looking as close as possible to Ryoko Kui’s source material (as far as I can tell). As with Frieren, the action sequences aren’t frequent, nor are they entirely what the show is about, but they look incredible every single time. And the food, of course, looks incredible, no matter how weird. This is practically a cooking anime and a fantasy dungeon anime at the same time, and both aspects are visually on point at all times.

I’m obviously speaking from my own bubble as one of the six people who still use Tumblr in 2024, but I rarely see new anime make a splash like this on social media every single week, and the ones that I do are usually the monster shonen hits like Chainsaw Man or Jujutsu Kaisen. Dungeon Meshi deserves the exposure and success it’s attained, and I’m excited to see it continue. I’d easily slot this right up there with Bravern as one of the best new anime of the season.

A Sign of Affection

I’ve seen a hell of a lot of shonen slice-of-life romances in the past year and change, so a nice fluffy shoujo like this was an excellent palate cleanser. There were a hell of a lot of Big Action Setpieces and panicky teens and grim dungeon crawlers this season, and at the end of the week I wanted to unwind with a bunch of pretty twenty-somethings falling in love with each other.

The show centers on Yuki, a young woman living with congenital hearing loss, making do at a public college after growing up at a school for the deaf. Though she’s able to get by with LINE messages and lip reading, she’s unprepared when a foreigner asks for help, but she’s saved by a handsome and mysterious young man named Itsuomi. He’s able to help out, and takes an interest in her when he realizes his fellow undergrad is deaf, and Yuki takes an interest in kind because he’s really goddamn hot. It turns out that he’s a polyglot and an avid world-traveler, but sign language is not in his purview. This mutual interest sparks the concern of her childhood friend, Oushi, one of the few people in her life who already use sign language, who wants to be sure that nothing untoward is happening. And it isn’t, because this is just a really lovely, low-stakes romance story.

This is pure, unfiltered shoujo at its best. Yuki’s internal monologue is peppered with flowery prose, and everything and everyone looks soft and beautiful. Fashionable, doe-eyed women and pillowy-lipped ikemen abound (seriously, holy shit, the lips on these boys) as the scope widens and the main love interests’ friends explore their own possible love stories. Itsuomi is very much of the “mysterious boy” archetype you’ll find in romance stories in this demographic, but he’s not hiding any sort of dark past like you’d typically expect; he’s just an interesting guy who keeps his personal life close to the vest. He’s a self-appointed world citizen who loves learning about how people of all cultures live their lives, and in Yuki he sees someone within his home turf who happens to live in her own world entirely. And it’s easy to see his forward behavior with Yuki as infantilizing at first (Oushi sure does, and I’ll get back to him in a second), but as they grow closer Itsuomi quickly becomes much more considerate of her boundaries and learns to accommodate her as he studies sign language and gestures that help ensure her comfort. This is a story about Yuki’s horizons broadening just as much as it is about Itsuomi wanting to be let into Yuki’s narrow world, and that sort of synergy makes for some exceptional romance.

A Sign of Affection deserves some credit for refusing to shy away from Yuki’s disability and making a point of depicting her world as one that does little to accommodate her. Very few people in her daily life ever bothered to learn sign language, she relies on a friend to take notes during lectures, and work is hard to come by. It’s an honest depiction that makes an effort not to be exploitative, which is a breath of fresh air. Not only that, but there’s some interesting meta-commentary in there: The only major conflict in the story stems from Oushi’s jealousy, and his reservations about Itsuomi possibly “taking advantage of” Yuki almost feel like he believes that he’s the only one who knows what’s best for her just because he’s done the bare minimum to accommodate her. He thinks he’s coming from a good place, but he winds up accidentally infantilizing her in exactly the way he thinks Itsuomi might. That’s a particularly interesting bit of irony!

I’ve seen enough shonen-oriented romcoms where an unassuming Regular Guy gets flustered as a way-too-casual girl pushes his buttons (hell, I’ve already reviewed two of those this season), so it’s nice to see the formula flipped for a shoujo as Yuki and her best friend Rin blush and squee over Itsuomi and his coworker Kyouya, respectively. A Sign of Affection isn’t afraid to get a little silly with it, either; plenty of these moments are punctuated by characters’ faces going low-detail or full chibi, and they are cute as shit every single time.

This one was just cozy as hell. If you’re into this sort of thing, swaddle yourself in it and bask.

Solo Leveling

I let this one collect dust after the third episode and didn’t pick it back up until the season was almost up, and honestly, I was kinda dreading it: The trailers didn’t look too promising, the show was slow to start, and it looked like yet another derivative JRPG-style dungeon crawler that managed to get popular. Turns out, nah, this show actually kinda fucks and the web novel series and webtoon it’s based on are popular for a reason. The story is nothing special, don’t get me wrong, but it’s a perfectly serviceable turn-your-brain-off action spectacle with a bit more lying beneath the surface.

In a modern-day South Korea where portals to mysterious dungeons open up and threaten the populace, those who can brave the dungeons, known as hunters, are an invaluable human resource. Once someone is assigned a grade as a hunter, they have that grade for life, barring some rare occurrences. Sung Jinwoo is at the lowest rung on that ladder as an E-rank, incapable of improvement, assigned the epithet “the weakest hunter of all mankind.” He mostly shows up to portal raids as a warm body to fill a quota, and one such job goes haywire as most of the raid party, Jinwoo included, is brutally slaughtered in an arcane secondary dungeon within a portal. He somehow wakes up in a hospital, unharmed, and able to access a digital menu before his eyes that exhorts him to do the One Punch Man workout every day, lest he incur punishment. He gets hilariously chadly in the span of a few days in the hospital, including an inexplicable haircut, and finds access to dungeons only he can enter and levels up within this new system.

This one gets off to a slow start and may have benefited from a longer premiere like Oshi no Ko or Frieren, but once the table is fully set, Solo Leveling really starts to cook. Jinwoo’s titular leveling process is a blast from one fight to the next, and as he moves to work in the dungeons that other hunters can access, it turns out he’s been training with the weights on. He’s suddenly fighting way above his pay grade, and after staving off attacks from hunters taking advantage of portals for nefarious ends, he is recruited by an ambitious corporate scion to make some real coin and establish an independent association of hunters.

While it can feel like there’s a whole bunch of table-setting between portal sequences, it’s some smart worldbuilding on Solo Leveling’s end to establish how portal hunting became a central pillar of this society, and doubly so how political and capitalist interests can leave a wide berth for corruption and bad actors. If there’s money to be made in hunting, of course people will find ways to make even more at the expense of others, both at the corporate and individual levels. There’s a lot of talk in there about “survival of the fittest” and “natural selection” and that… makes me nervous.

Those are terms that can be used to justify immoral actions in the name of money, sure, but Jinwoo also uses them to justify his own process. To what end is he constantly improving himself? Sure, he's doing what he can to provide for his younger sister and their ailing mother, but I see less and less humanity in him as this goes on. There are constant hints at something far more sinister at play than just a dude getting stronger for himself, not the least of which being “the system,” the UI that implores him to keep taking on these “quests.” Something, or someone, seems to be guiding him. Whenever another hunter turns on Jinwoo, of course his self-defense instincts kick in, but system pop-ups instruct him to defeat X number of hostiles like it’s a normal video game scenario. There’s something eerily depersonalized about these encounters, despite them being full-on mortal combat, that gives me serious Ender’s Game vibes. Consider me intrigued.

I’d heard that the Solo Leveling manhwa’s main draw was its visuals, and though I had my doubts early on, I'm sold now. This is a pretty solid presentation! Hiroyuki Sawano turned in yet another banger soundtrack to punctuate all the action setpieces, helping to stitch together a fairly complete tapestry. Said setpieces are exhilarating and almost impressively bloody, and while the animation is nothing impressive in the day-to-day, it goes absolutely batshit when the gloves come off. Movement is inhumanly fluid and the visuals can go into the same loose, psychedelic territories we’ve seen in the likes of Mob Psycho and the second season of Jujutsu Kaisen. If this is the new meta for shonen action, I’m not complaining.

By all rights, this is a pretty decent show, but if I’m being honest, this one just hasn’t stuck with me much. And that’s fine! Sometimes I just wanna see some nutty action stuff and move on with my day. Solo Leveling hits that spot perfectly, and I'll be right back there when it returns for its next season.

‘Tis Time for “Torture,” Princess

I was surprised to learn that the gag manga this is based on, with such a seemingly simple premise, has been running for well over 200 chapters and counting. As the anime progressed, I was far more pleasantly surprised to learn that it actually works.

In a standard anime fantasy world where the forces of good are fighting the demonic Hellhorde, an unnamed warrior princess and her talking enchanted sword are taken prisoner and subjected to torture as they’re squeezed for intel. Said “torture,” as the title’s scare quotes would suggest, is mildly unconventional, as the demon baddie inquisitor, aptly named Torture Tortura, attempts to ply the princess by presenting her with tantalizingly delicious-looking food that she can only partake in if she coughs up some info. Naturally, the princess caves every single time, but her intel is often inane and useless, so the “torture” continues. It’s not all food, though: The princess is soon held out of arm’s reach of adorable baby animals by a gyaru beastgirl, pampered into submission by a spa-loving giantess, and is faced with a tsundere vampire faildaughter, who… tries. 

And you’d think that would be it; the joke wears thin and you move onto something else. Before you realize it, though, something’s changed: The princess and her captors are quickly becoming friends. The premise almost feels perfunctory: These inquisitors are actual people just doing their jobs, and whatever happens after the princess’ myriad confessions is fair game. There’s no malice or animosity, even during the “torture” sessions themselves: Everyone will have a blast and grow closer as friends, and then the princess will voluntarily go back to her bedless cell. It’s like Sam and Ralph after they clock out, except they’re almost always off the clock. Everyone is genuinely looking out for each other in all directions, and the only thing that keeps the torture going is the need for a status quo to return to, even as it grows more elastic. If anything, Time for "Torture" is a good example of committing to the bit without having to necessarily rely on it.

The real irony in all of this is that it becomes increasingly apparent that the princess is having her needs met in captivity far better than she ever did back home. In her proud proclamations about how she’ll never cave to the temptations before her (shortly before she does just that), the princess often talks about her upbringing and her time as the head of an imperial legion, but these stories often betray her lack of friendship or any of the little things that make life worth living. Her life as royalty was one of isolation and deprivation, to the point where she finds more freedom and fulfillment as a prisoner. She truly lives in a society.

Hellholm, on the other hand, has a surprisingly healthy approach to things like work-life balance, food, and leisure, and its most valuable prisoner is no exception. The Hell-Lord himself is a surprising exemplar of this; for as much as he looks and talks like your standard terrifying JRPG demon king, he’s a surprisingly good dude! He looks after his family, employees, and even the captive princess as if they are all one and the same; he exhibits strong principles and an aversion to conflict, sees to his employees' needs and wants alike, and is a supportive, loving father to his unbelievably precious little daughter (who also serves as a “torturer,” to the princess’ delight). He’s also a big time anime dork, and even bonds with a knight attempting to rescue the princess over their shared otakudom before sending him off peacefully. As “villains” go, he’s top tier.

Time for "Torture" is nothing groundbreaking by any stretch, but it’s a cute, silly time and it plays with anime fantasy tropes in the same way a six-month-old German shepherd “plays” with a cheap stuffed toy. How long the premise holds up is entirely up to you, but I had a lot of fun with it. I have no idea how this ended up being one of the better shows this season, but I guess it just scratched the right itch for me.