#I’m a ‘characters watch the show’ fan myself

[zepskies]

Aw thank you so much for giving me the idea and letting me run with it!! 🥰

Oooh I feel like with Big Sky you can start from the last episode of season 2 and more or less understand why Beau is there. Whereas with the Boys...yeah, you definitely need to see season 1 and 2 before you watch 3. 😉 Still, I'm so glad you could still have fun with this batch of HCs!!

Aww no worries on 10 Inch. It's not the best movie ever, but Priestly is oh so very adorkable in it! 💜💜

Hahaa yay!! Another Friends fan! 💕

I was imagining MEV reader again, and as I was writing this I kept getting myself confused because I’m relating her to Monica’s love of cooking. But Dean is a bit of a mother hen and fussy with the cleanliness of his room, so he’s definitely got some similarities with Monica there haha - role reversal when the ‘bossy’ one gets bossed - just go to bed Dean!

Awww honestly it makes me so happy you were imagining the Midnight Espresso-verse reader! 🥹 That version of her and Dean live in my heart rent free always. But you're right, she totally embodies Dean's love of cooking while he holds her down in a similar way that Chandler holds down and supports Monica. She also dotes on Dean a lot though, so it would make sense to me how she'd be taking care of Dean and making sure he slows down to take care of himself. 💞 (Yes, go right to bed, Dean!!)

I’m really surprised by Beau’s character. I’ve read a couple of fics where the big 3 were all present, granted they were crackish, but I was under the impression he was a little more grounded and sweeter? And I guess he probably is, I’ll give him a pass because he has the man flu, but I didn’t realise he was such a work-a-holic. Then again, he’s a sheriff, makes sense. And at least he listens eventually, even if there were a few, I’ll say instructions. Man runs a right ship. “And can you get me…”

Aw yeah, Beau tends to be more grounded and a little more mature than Dean, but he still has a playful aspect to him, along with a hidden edge of trauma in his past (you'll see when you watch the show).

Yes! The idea was that he's the sheriff and really gets into his work, but once he caves to her telling him he needs to take it easy, it was my HC that he'd settle into being her patient. More sweet but annoying, in a "can you get me just one more thing, baby?" kind of way lmao.

He’s just a dick, a grumbly one, but also a softie and wants some love deep down right? You won’t win it with yachts, mate, although I guess it’s worked for him before?

Oooh yes, Ben is selfish and an asshole, most of the time. Taciturn and grumpy, but for someone he actually cares about I feel like he'd try to soften up just for her. 😉

LOL he's learning that love isn't just throwing money around. 😆

I’m going to see if I can watch Ten Inch Hero 🤞 - but now I really want to know if I was to read one of your Ben fics (being a super hero interests me the most), is there one I could read where I wouldn’t have to watch the show first? 👉👈 spoilers don’t bother me, I read supernatural fics set in the bunker before I’d even gotten there 😅 but I want to check one out and Break Me Down is looking very appealing ❤️

10 Inch Hero is an easy watch! Though with Soldier Boy, I reeeeally recommend you watch The Boys first to get a sense of the world, the characters, the background of SB's story. It's a wild ride lol, but I would truly love it if you read Break Me Down! That's the SB series I'm most proud of, and was my first foray into figuring out how to write Soldier Boy. 🥰💚 Hopefully BMD emulates the tone of the show. I tried to do justice to SB's characterization, as well as the other Boys characters, like Butcher, Hughie, Annie, M.M. etc.

However, if you do decide to dive into BMD before watching the show, the main thing you need to know is that Soldier Boy (real name Ben) is a Boys parody of Captain America...if with a Winter Soldier "captured by Russians and tortured for 40 years" storyline. 😅

At the end of season 3, there's a big showdown between Homelander, SB, Butcher, and the rest of the main characters. BMD is canon divergent from how season 3 ended, but you can read up on the canon plotline here.

HEADCANON: Man Flu

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader || Beau Arlen x Reader || Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader || Boaz Priestly x Reader

HC: When Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Boaz Priestly get sick, how would they act when you (try to) take care of them?

AN: After reading I Got You by @bettystonewell (Dean x Reader) and The Best Kind of Medicine by @lamentationsofalonelypotato (Soldier Boy x Reader), I realized that I've never actually written a sick-fic before. Here it is in headcanon form, since you guys seem to like these! lol 💜

Also adding Priestly to this lineup for the first time because some of you have been requesting more of him recently. 😉

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, hurt/comfort, sick-fic, some needy affection-starved men who don't want to admit they're needy, lots of fluff.~

Dean Winchester

He's not sick. Because he doesn't get sick.

Dean claims he has the constitution of a horse, but you still take the beer out of his hand before he can take a sip at 10:00 a.m.

He's too busy interrupting himself, namely by coughing half a lung, wheezing, blinking teary eyes -- the whole phlegmy nine yards.

Sam shakes his head, casting you a look that frankly says, Good luck.

He knows his brother is stubborn as hell, and one of the things Dean dislikes most is being fussed over for "no reason." Being seen as weak. Not being able to just shrug his shoulders and shake it off.

To be fair, Dean tries. Except this time it's accompanied by a body shiver and a reluctant sniffle. His pallid face is drawn, and his usually strong and solid frame looks unsteady as he leans a hand on the War Room table.

"Okay, come on, Rambo. Let's get you back into bed," you say, guiding your boyfriend back to the room you share with him.

"I'm find," he insists, even as he begrudgingly accepts the gentle pressure of your hand on his back and shoulder, pushing him down to the bed.

"Sure you are, baby," you say with a smirk. "You're in the primb of libe."

Dean shoots you a narrowed look. Damn you for forcing him to binge-watch all those episodes of Friends late at night when you both can't sleep.

Right now he's Monica, trying to convince you he's in tip-top shape, while you're Chandler, just trying to get him to use tissues instead of his flannel sleeve to wipe his runny nose.

After taking his boots off, you get him to change out of his jeans and back into his sweatpants. Then you manage to get him to lay down under the covers with the promise of coming back with medicine and soup.

"I don't want soup, damn it," he grumbles. You just roll your eyes and rub his arm.

"Just rest. I'll be back with the Vicks."

As you might expect, Dean is not an easy patient.

He refuses to drink tea, but he does down the pills you bring for him, with a measured toss of his head that still makes his head swim. He groans.

He swallows a couple of cautious spoonfuls of the soup, pausing when he realizes that its warmth actually feels good down his sore and scratchy throat. It tastes pretty good too, especially with the warm, buttered slices of bread on the side.

"You made this?" he asks.

"Mhmm," you nod, smiling. If nothing else, good food will pacify this man. "Chicken and wild rice, made especially for you."

"Hmm. S' good," he nods in reply. He manages to finish the bowl.

He has to admit, if just to himself, that he does feel like shit.

He won't admit that the way you're rubbing his back, the gentle pressure of your nails between his shoulders and down his spine relaxes him, makes him feel better.

He knows that you care about him. That you love him. But this is one of those moments where it hits him, just how much.

It's a little overwhelming. A heavy swell of pressure fills his chest, so he tries not to let himself think about it for very long.

(He fails.)

After he's done eating, you take the plates away and help him back into bed. You linger there, slipping your fingers through his soft brown hair and pressing a kiss to his clammy forehead.

"I really need you to rest, okay," you say quietly. "If you need anything, just text me or Sam. Don't get out of bed."

Dean grasps your hand before you can move away from him. Since you're probably going to wash your hands anyway, he lays a kiss on the back of your hand.

"Thanks, sweetheart."

Beau Arlen

Sheriff Beau Arlen is the type to run himself into the ground because he's so damn into his work.

He wants to do well in his station of responsibility, and he feels like he has to make up for his performance during the summer madness of Buck Barnes and Avery...and everything in between.

You just have to make Beau realize that he needs to slow down, before he well and truly burns himself out.

You put your foot down one morning.

He tries to get out of bed but has to pause, his head swimming. He takes a couple of steadying breaths while sitting on the edge of the bed.

You notice with a frown. "Hey, you okay?"

"Fine. Just fine," he answers a little too breathlessly. He raises a hand to his head. His throat is sticky and coarse. He wrinkles his nose when he also feels a sneeze coming on.

"Just need a...a...mugh-ah-ha-hugh."

His coughing sneeze makes you grimace. You didn't even know someone could sneeze and cough at the same time.

"Aw, babe. You're sick," you say as you move over to him, resting a hand on his back. He shakes his head and groans.

"Nah, can't be sick. Gotta lot of work to do today," he says. His voice is like gravel blended with broken glass. It would actually be sexy, if for the distinctly un-sexy way he tries to clear the great wad of phlegm from his throat.

He tries to rock himself onto his feet, but there he sways on the landing. You hurry out of bed to grab his arm and steady him.

"Oh no, you don't. Back into bed," you say.

"Aw, sweetheart. I'll be fine--"

"No. Lay down. You're not going in today," you say more firmly, all while you tuck the man back into bed with the blankets covering him.

"All right, all right. No need to be so pushy," he can't help but tease.

It earns a small smirk on your face. It seems like his man flu hasn't yet deprived him of his sense of humor.

"I thought you liked that though," you reply. You sit on the edge of the bed and rub his chest. He groans in defeat.

"Can't believe this," he grumbles. "Today of all days--"

"There's always going to be another case. This is your body telling you that you need to slow down," you tell him. "So how about this. I'm gonna call in one of my sick days, and we'll bunker in together."

You stroke his bearded cheek. He quirks a smile, grabbing your hand and squeezing warmly.

"How long until I'm allowed out, warden?" he asks.

"Until you can stand without keeling over," you dryly reply. A smile tugs at your lips. "Remind me to stop by CVS to grab you a Life Alert."

"All right, har har haugh--" His sarcasm ends on a very real, wheezing cough. Your amused smile drops. You relent from your teasing and stroke his chest once more.

"Okay, just rest. Let me get you some actual medicine and I'll be right back."

He stops you by grabbing your wrist. "Hey, uh...can I have some chicken noodle soup later?"

"Of course, baby. I'll swing by the store now and get some stuff for you."

"And some saltines?"

"Saltine crackers on the side. Got it."

You're about to head to the bathroom to brush your teeth before you start getting ready to go to the store, but once again, Beau's needy hand stops you.

"Before you go, some tea with honey and lemon would be good. Just something for my throat," he croaks.

You smile and nod. "Yeah, for sure. That'll be better for you than coffee."

"Oh, and can you gimme that quilt over there?" he asks, pointing to your favorite knitted blanket at the edge of the bed. You graciously lay it over his form and drop a kiss onto his forehead.

"And some cough drops. Thank you, darlin'," Beau adds.

Your lips begin to press together, but you nod and continue getting dressed.

You can already tell this man is going to settle into you taking care of him just fine.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Neither of you thought it was possible, considering his super genes that allowed him to eat and booze and drug harder than Andre the Giant and Keith Richards put together.

But one day, your over six-foot super soldier goes down hard. The warning signs came the night before, when you could hardly sleep with the way he was snoring like a grizzly bear.

In the morning, he wakes bleary-eyed with a runny nose and a coughing fit hard enough to shake the bed.

"Fuck," he groans, dragging a hand over his face before he turns onto his back. "This's gotta be some kind of bullshit hangover."

You move over to him in bed and feel the intense warmth of his clammy forehead. Your brows draw together in concern.

"No, I think you're sick."

"Not possible," he grumbles. "I haven't been sick since..."

Well, since he was a kid, probably. He won't admit it, but he's surprised he still has that memory lodged in the back of his mind.

It comes to the forefront now: your hand on his cheek unknowingly mimics his mother's gentle touch, her soft, kind voice.

"Aw, my sweet boy. Let's get you feeling better."

He can almost recall the floral scent of her perfume, echoes of it in the shampoo you use.

Ben claims he's fine, that he doesn't need your help or want the medicine and tea you bring for him. (He tries the tea, grimaces, and spits it out when you're not looking.)

He's a sourpatch grumbly patient who only begrudgingly stays put in bed when you ask him to. He doesn't mind lying around and watching movies all day, not to mention episode after episode of Below Deck. It reminds him that he wants to get back into boating.

"Hey, sweetheart," he calls to you from the bedroom, his voice croaking all the while. "I'm getting you a yacht for Valentine's Day. You want it all white, or throw in a bit of gold? Actually, check out this one with the navy trim."

You roll your eyes to yourself when you step back into the room. You're carrying a tray with a large bowl of soup and a fifth of whiskey. He claims the latter will help soothe his throat, and you don't have the heart to argue with him when he's clearly feeling so shitty.

"You mean you're getting you a yacht," you reply wryly. "We live in the city. Where the hell would we put a boat?"

"In a yacht club, where it belongs," Ben retorts. He hooks an arm around your waist and peruses what you've brought him on the tray. He doesn't look all that interested.

"Look, I know you're not exactly a soupy kinda guy, but this'll make you feel better," you say.

"Why can't you put some fucking steak in it or something?" he grouses. He tries and fails to hide another wet cough.

"Why can't you just eat what I lovingly made, just for you," you snipped back.

He rolls his eyes at your attitude, but he pipes down. In that silence, he's conceding that you have a point. There was a time were all he had to do was glance in someone's direction, and there'd be some fucking moron to fulfill his every whim.

Now, you're probably the only one in the world that would actually do what you're doing...

Cooking for him, putting your heart into it, for the simple reason that you do care.

Ben takes the bowl of soup from your hands. Raising a brow, you offer him the spoon as well.

He eats without further complaint.

You smile and reward him with a sweet kiss on his forehead, brushing his hair back as you do so.

"See? That's not so hard, huh?" you can't help but needle him. "It's okay, baby. I'll take care of you."

He eyes you dryly, but he won't admit that there's a different kind of warmth coiling in his chest.

Boaz Priestly

"Uuuughhh, babe," he groans. "I feel like death on toast."

You're standing beside the bed with a smile playing on your lips. You brush back his for once un-gelled hair back from his face. It's weird to see it all limp and lifeless, slightly damp with sweat.

"Unironically, I should make you some toast," you reply. "What kind of medicine do we have?"

Priestly unearths his head from under his pillow to look up at you with miserable red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling, stuffy nose. "Can we count the tequila in the mini bar?"

"Maybe later," you laugh. "How are we on groceries?"

Priestly struggles to think. He takes your hand and rubs it back and forth across his chest. Maybe your sweet, loving touch has the power to clear away his congestion without him needing Vicks. Too minty.

"We have that pastrami I brought back from the shop," he says.

"That's six days old already," you shake your head.

"Aw, that's still good," he argues. "But uh, other than that, I think I have half a cheeseburger left from last night."

Last night's date at TGI Friday's, he means.

You heave a sigh. "Okay, clearly I'm going to the store. You just stay in bed and rest. Drink your tea."

He grimaces like a child. "I don't like tea."

"I know you don't like tea, but you need to drink it. It's good for your throat and your immune system."

He groans and flops back over onto his stomach. You bite your lip against a smile. He's such a whiny baby when he's sick.

Talk about Man Flu.

"Come on, be a good boy for me," you say, smacking him lightly on the ass. "Soon enough you'll feel better."

A smile creeps across his face where it's pressed against his pillow.

"Know what would really make me feel better?" he hedges. He tries to guide you down to him by tugging on your hand, but you resist him.

"Oh, no. You're not gonna get your germs all over me," you say.

"Hey, what happened to in sickness and in health?" he croaks. Even while under the weather, he's still plenty strong enough to grapple with you. He manages to yank you down. Laughing, you stumble into a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Huh, I don't remember exchanging any vows. You see a ring on this finger?" you tease, flashing your bare hand in his face to try and distract him and weasle out of his grip. "I can jump this ship anytime I want."

Priestly pouts. His arm hooks tighter around your waist. "Huh, guess you got me there..."

He turns his head and coughs roughly into his arm. Your amusement fades into concern and sympathy. You lay a hand over his chest while he struggles.

Once again, he clasps his free hand over yours. He glances up a bit hesitantly into your eyes.

"Well, maybe it's time there should be something on this finger," he murmurs.

You blink your eyes wider. Your head tilts, wondering if you just heard him right. Is this delirium fever talking, or is he serious?

"O-Oh yeah?" you ask.

Priestly tries to gauge your reaction. Seeing your face break out into a cute, shy smile raises the corners of his lips. Hope blooms in his chest, right beneath your hand.

"Yeah," he says, trying to clear his cracking throat. "I mean, if you're okay with that. If it's not too soon--"

You slip your fingers over his plush, chapped lips, and your smile brightens.

"When you're feeling better, you can ask me that question properly."

AN: 😆 I hope you liked the first ever addition of Priestly!! It was so fun to try and write him again (it's been a while lol). Feel free to imagine this vignette in the same storyverse as The Miracle Man and Code Red.

But I also hope you enjoyed the "Big 3," as I call them, even though Russell is starting to give Beau a run for his money on one of those slots. 😂 Let me know which guy you had the most fun reading on this one! 💜

And if you want even more fluff before Valentine's Day, check out my friend @waynes-multiverse who just posted her set of V-Day headcanons with Dean, Soldier Boy, Beau, and Russell: Headcanon: Valentine's Day 💕

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

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Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy + Priestly Tag List

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@mrlonelycat @deans-daydream @leigh70 @aylacavebear @kmc1989

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[inksandpensblog]

are you a “self-insert/oc fixes everything” fan or a “characters watch/read their own story” fan

[peak-dumbass]

Shoutout to the furry transformer fans this one’s for you

[devilsskettle]

people arguing about whether or not it’s problematic to ship ian and poppy, and whether or not it’s problematic for be vocally against shipping ian and poppy, in the main tag. meanwhile i am looking for crumbs of danarachel because the entire fanbase has decided they’re boring. but danarachel date night though. danarachel workplace conflict of interest. danarachel adopting a dog. so many beautiful things happening so far in season 4

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

dedicated to ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

summary: you, an author, get invited to a talk show for your first novel, but there’s a surprise in store for you.

⋆ ★ ln x reader ░

⋆ ★ fluff + humour ░

masterlist ☾☼

your first novel was a huge success.

a dream come true for you.

it wasn't just the success part really. it was everything. from writing, editing, cover options, editing again, and then publishing. the process was exhausting but so, so fulfilling.

your book had also caused quite a craze among the formula one fans. you had an inkling why that may be. maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with your dedication.

Dedicated to Lando Norris, my green flag inspiration.

yeah, it was definitely because of that.

since you were an indie author, it was absolutely crazy to you when you were invited on a talk show to discuss your book!! the day you'd received the news, you had jumped on the bed! and then promptly fell to the floor, but that's fine.

on the day of your big day (!!), you had dressed up, listened to the encouraging voice notes your boyfriend had sent, since he was working, and then found yourself at the venue a half hour early.

you were excited, who's gonna sue you for that?

they'd gotten you to hair and make up, and they had attached a collar mic and they explained all the rules to you. god there were so many rules. why were there so many rules?

and then they were live!

you stood behind the curtains, watching as the talk show host welcomed the audience, made some jokes, and everyone laughed. you watched as they eventually took their seat, and began introducing your book without naming it. adding in a little touch of their own personal stories to make it relatable.

and then the host brought out your book, and announced your name, and the audience cheered! behind you, the assistant pushed you forward.

with a deep breath, you stepped forward and on set. the crowd cheered louder and you smiled and waved.

"welcome, y/n!" the host said as you sat on the couch beside their couch.

you were glad the interview was in a slightly informal setting. it relaxed your nerves a little bit. the host themselves were sitting with their legs on the couch, tucked underneath them.

"hi! i'm so glad you could make it!" the host greeted you.

“i’m so glad i got invited in the first place! this is like a dream come true!” you exclaimed.

the crowd chuckled, clearly endeared by your excitement.

“now, i have to know, how did you get in the process of writing? according to my research, or stalking to be more accurate-” the audience laughed, as did you, “-you studied psychology?”

“actually, i’m still studying psychology. i’ve been working to get into sports psychology specifically. but um, i’ve always enjoyed writing, i’m always writing poems and short stories and stuff. when the idea for this book struck me, it was like the words had taken over my body and day and night i was only writing,”

“how did you get the idea for the book? like, what was your process?”

you sat up straighter, you loved talking about your book and all the things about the process. “i actually got an idea for the characters first. like, i made a character sketch for my main protagonists, and some of the side characters, and then i came up with a plot to suit the characters,”

“that’s usually not how it’s done, right? i’ve interviewed other authors before, and they’ve always come up with the plot first,”

“it’s definitely unconventional. for the longest time, my editor thought i was just lying about writing the book myself. she genuinely thought i had a ghost writer, because my process was just so weird,” you said, laughing a little bit.

“well, we certainly do know the inspiration behind your male main character,” the host teased, as your cheeks reddened, and the crowd broke out in synchronised “oooohs”

you laughed, shifting a little on the couch, “do we now?”

the host, who was still holding the book with the cover facing the audience, opened the book to the dedication page. turning to you, they said, “now, i’m a little old. so i can’t read very well-” the crowd broke out in scattered laughter, “-but could you read what it says right here?” they pointed to the text.

your smile widened and you said-you didn’t even have to read it-you said, “dedicated to lando norris, my green flag inspiration,”

the crowd burst out in cheers.

“do you know who lando norris is?” the host asked.

you made a confused face and exclaimed, “why would i add his name if i didn’t know who he was?”

the crowd laughed, as did the host, “no, no, no, i meant like, do you know him personally? like, beyond formula one? because why else would you add him as your green flag inspiration?”

“i actually- okay, i’ve been a huge fan of formula one all my life. like, i have weekends blocked on race days and stuff. and it was during one of his interviews- i don’t even remember which race it was- but there was a female interviewer-”

“oh, i’ve seen that clip!” the host said suddenly, jumping slightly.

“oh my god, you have? i love that clip!” turning to the audience, you explained, “there was a female interviewer who asked like, a really smart question about the car and the strategies and how it’s gonna help the team and all of that. it was during the championship battle between max and lando, and lando had complimented the interviewer and said that she always asks the best questions around. and then, a male interviewer who was standing right there called lando a liar and basically insinuated that lando wanted to-” you glanced slightly awkwardly towards the host as you spoke animatedly.

“wanted to sleep with her, yeah,” the host supplied. okay, good, so that was appropriate for you to say.

“yeah, exactly, and lando was just like no, that’s not true, i’m not lying-”

“and that was it for you? that gave birth to your male main character?”

“yeah. that was it for me. that gave birth to my male main character,”

the host kept the book down as the crowd cheered.

"well, y/n," the host started.

turning your entire attention on them, you said, "yes,"

"we've got a little surprise for you,"

"is it going to be someone jumping from somewhere because i don't want that surprise, i'm very happy without a surprise," you said, your eyes comically large.

the crowd laughed.

"we wanted to do that. your surprise said that they won't be able to do it without laughing, so then, we decided not to do that,"

you put your hands together and looked up at the ceiling, "thank you, surprise guest!"

the host laughed along with the crowd. you smiled.

standing, the host announced, "everyone! please welcome! lando norris!"

the crowd let out loud cheers and some even stood.

you stood as well. "what?" you screamed, though it was drowned by the deafening noise of the audience.

the doors opened, the same ones from where you entered, and lando norris walked in. he smiled and he waved. and when he looked at you- you with your hands covering your mouth, eyes tracking his every movement- he winked.

after shaking his hand with his host, he finally turned towards you.

"what are you doing here?" you asked, still not over your shock.

he wrapped an arm around your waist with ease, as you wrapped yours around your neck.

"i'm here to be your surprise guest!" he said, as he pulled back.

"this wasn't on the calendar!"

"i know. i had jon put it on his calendar, cause i knew i would forget it,"

the two of you were still standing in the middle of the stage, arms around each other, though yours had travelled down to settle at his torso, while his remained at your waist.

"is that why you had an early morning training session?" you asked.

"yeah, had to make sure i'm not late for this," he said, still smiling.

"as much as i'm loving the discussion of calendars and training sessions, i am really confused here," the host interrupted, and lando and you finally broke apart.

the two of you settled on the couch, side by side. thighs pressed together, but the hands to yourselves.

"now, what is this about a calendar?" they asked.

"we share one," lando answered simply.

"why?"

"because we live together," you answered.

"right. again, why?"

"people who love each other live together," lando explained like the host was five.

"who love each other?"

"we love each other." you said, using your thumb to point at lando and then you.

the host stared for a few seconds. lando and you looked around awkwardly during that time.

"so, what i'm hearing is that you two-" they pointed at the two of you, "-y/n y/l/n and lando norris love each other and live together and share a calendar,"

"yeah, it's just easier. with my constantly changing schedules, and y/n doing university and writing, its easier to just block time on our calendar so that neither of us really disturbs the other," lando said.

"right right. you two love each other and live together and share a calendar," the host repeated again.

leaning forward, you touched their arm, "are you okay?"

"do i look okay? no! i planned to surprise you!"

"i am surprised!" you defended yourself while lando laughed quietly in the background.

"but you two love each other and live-"

"-live together and share a calendar, yes," lando and you completed the sentence in unison.

the audience laughed.

"hold on, since when has this been going on?" the host asked.

you and lando exchanged a look, his fingers playing with the strands of your hair, "five years," you answered. lando nodded.

"five?" the host burst out.

"yeah,"

"how did you two meet?"

"he was driving, i was there to watch, i crashed into him, poured burning hot coffee all over his fireproofs and bam! we fell in love," you said.

"your delivery is so deadpanned, that i really can't tell whether this is true or not," the host said.

laughing, you leaned into lando, who pressed a kiss against your forehead, "well, the world just found out we've been together. gotta make them wait a little bit, stretch it out," lando said, laughing.

the conversation moved smoothly from there. they spoke about lando's career, and your career, and the three of you made jokes, and read snippets from your book, and lando laughed his high pitched laugh while holding your book, and honestly, right there was your dream come true.

later, after it was over, both you and lando were in the process of getting the mics removed, and everything. the two of you thanked everyone who had been a part of the process, and just before you two left, the host jogged towards you, a slip in their hand.

"this is my personal number. we're going to sit down and talk about all the tea i'm missing here," they said.

you graciously accepted the slip of number, laughing, and lando thanked them for the opportunity and said that they would call soon. bidding goodbye, the two to you began walking to lando's car.

his arm wrapped around your shoulder, "good day?"

you leaned up, pecking his lips, "perfect day,"

as the two of you settled in his car, you suddenly smacked his arm and said, "i can't believe you didn't tell me!"

lando laughed.

◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥

i really enjoyed writing this one! also, for me, the host was a mix of jimmy fallon and drew barrymore, idk if i got their energies across. anyways, i hope you like this! im sorry it took me so long to write this one! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry

[georges-left-ear]

I want to talk about Neil Gaiman from the perspective of a survivor of SA.

I am a trans/ gender fluid person, a survivor of R*pe, and a diehard Good Omens fan. And I have been struggling to cope with and process the horrific things that Neil Gaiman has done. I don’t get a lot of engagement from the Good Omens fandom. I’m mostly a lurker here, TikTok, Twitter, and BlueSky and AO3. But I feel like I need to say something, and Im saying it here so I can share without a character limit. And then I’m going to take a break for a while because my mental health can’t handle the chaos anymore.

I read the Vulture article and I was of course horrified and disgusted and repulsed. The things he did to those women made me absolutely sick. But I’ll tell you what, as a survivor, I have been way more triggered by the online reaction to these allegations than I ever expected to be.

I am struggling, because while I unquestioningly stand with his victims and hope they get the full weight of justice they deserve, I am grieving. I am not reacting the way I would have expected myself to react to this news, and I haven’t since July when the story first broke. I would have expected to react the same way I did when JK Rowling exposed her horrific transphobia. I took a pretty hardline stance that any engagement with Harry Potter, even through fandom and etsy purchases, kept her relevant and sent the message that you too were transphobic. As a gender queer person, I now have an extremely hard time enjoying Harry Potter anymore even thought it was overwhelmingly influential on my life. I would not have met my husband without HP!

So why don’t I feel the same way about Good Omens? I am a victim of R*pe, myself, so why haven’t these allegations made it difficult to enjoy this story? In fact, all I want to do right now is actually watch the show! Or read the book, or fanfiction, or watch my favorite fan edits. I’m actually reaching out to it more. My instinct ever since July has been to clutch the story to my chest, white knuckled, and crying to myself in the shower, “No, no, no, no. Please, please, please. Not this. Not this too. Please don’t go.”

The answer is I don’t know. I… I don’t know why I’m reacting this way. It is something I will have to work through with my therapist for sure. And I feel absolutely horrible for it. But I do know that folks on Twitter and TikTok telling me that nobody cares about my feeling and saying that nothing matters at all except his victims has been extremely triggering - more so than any discussion of his acts. And I know that I will need a long time to work through it, and that I may never get over it.

I also know that two things can be true at once. We can be supportive of his victims and understand that what Neil Gaiman’s fans are going through is ALSO a collective trauma that deserves time and space to process. Because he violated us too. He violated our trust and our perceptions of reality, and that is much more traumatic than people give it credit for. Demanding that his fans just give up the stories and communities that may have been the only thing keeping some of these people alive at one point completely cold turkey is cruel and heartless. Some people may be able to do that. They may be able to not care for a while and may even need that. People deserve time and grace to grieve and come to terms with what is going on in their own ways.

I know that some of these folks mean well, but the argument that nobody cares about fans feelings is not looking at the whole picture and feels like just a way to discredit and belittle fandoms in a new way. Because this is NOT breaking news! This story originally broke back in July, and the fandom rallied behind his victims en mass! They have recently raised thousands of dollars to donate to Take Back The Night, which is amazing! This most recent article and fandom meltdown is just rehashing everything that we said last summer. So my then questions are:

When CAN we grieve? When CAN we talk about how we are feeling? When CAN we reach out to our community and collectively heal from the trauma that we are facing as well? And not fear that some self righteous ass hole on the internet is going to bully them for not being a good enough feminist. And do NOT sit there on your performative high horse and tell us that what we are going through is not as bad as R*pe. We fucking know that. I certainly fucking know that. But it is still bad, and it does deserve recognition too. It is extremely unhealthy to pretend that this news is not also a noteworthy trauma to his fans. And gaslighting them by telling them that their heartbreak and grief is problematic is just fucking mean.

Neil’s fans deserve grace and compassion too.

EDIT: here is the link to the GoFundMe mentioned above! You can still donate!

[azaharinflames]

I think, what I’m mostly honestly devastated about, is Tommy.

Because sure. We’ll keep seeing Buck. He’s one of our mains. And as much as Oliver’s words have disappointed me, Buck is still my favorite character. We’ll see him get better. In an improbable but perfect world, he and Tommy grow back together. If not, I don’t see myself being able to invest in his new relationship. I cannot honestly say I will care about it.

But Tommy? My God. It’s brutal. Because he’s not happy. The break up wasn’t mutual and it wasn’t nice. The last we see of him is of him heartbroken. It’s of him scared. It’s of him alone.

And it feels so heartbreaking for that as well. Because we don’t know if he’s going to be okay. Because what we do know is that he feels alone. And now he’s more alone than ever.

It’s such a horrible way to end his journey, if this for real is the end. He’s shown to have a lot of dedicated fans that saw themselves in him, and now you’re telling me this is what they get? That the representation they see on screen of themselves is portrayed in his last moments on screen as someone scared and heartbroken and lonely? Unable to find happiness?

Is that your choice in the current climate?

I guess that’s what makes it so I find it really hard to keep watching. 911, for as dramatic as it is, has always been a feel-good show. Nothing of this feels good.

Nothing feels good when the gay man ends up alone, sad, and scared.

And I’m sorry.

[jzprncess]

love language by sza

“help me understand how you speak your love language ”

pairing: Max Verstappen x Y/N reader

part 1/2 next part

word count: 2,823

summary: a girlfriend of a successful f1 driver decides to learn Dutch to better understand her boyfriends world—his culture, his emotions, and the language he speaks—hoping to connect more deeply and navigate the complexities of their high-speed, high-pressure relationship.

note: first time writing a fan fiction so be nice please! i don’t know how to work tumblr to the fullest so if you want to requests anything, message it to me! this will be in two parts! please leave comments so i know im doing something right!!

　　　　　　 ❛ ━━･♡❪ ❁ ❫♡･━━ ❜

Out of all the unexpected turns her life had taken, learning another language was never on Y/N's radar. Yet, here she was, grappling with the complexities of Dutch, staring at her laptop screen during a Zoom call with her tutor, Anne. They had been chatting frequently, especially while Max was off competing in a grueling triple-header race weekend.

Before he left, Y/N had noticed the shadow of frustration in Max's eyes, a rare shift from his usually upbeat demeanor. It wasn’t lost on her—or anyone, really. The weight of the season’s challenges had begun to press down on him, making his once confident posture seem a little more hunched, his usual optimism now clouded by self-doubt. Everyone could see it. With the way the season had started, Max had envisioned triumph. But now, in October, his hopes felt distant. He hadn’t clinched a victory since June, and every reminder of that fact only seemed to add to his frustration. Y/N wished she could lift that burden, even if just for a moment.

In an attempt to brighten his spirits, she decided to do something special for him—a gesture that would help him escape the pressure he was under. The very day he departed, Y/N found herself scouring the internet, searching for someone who could teach her some basic Dutch. Max, ever the romantic, had always whispered sweet phrases in his native tongue—whether it was giving her a compliment or simply wishing her a good morning. And though she often required translations, Y/N thought, Why not learn the language myself? It couldn’t be that difficult, right?

And so, here she was, earnestly trying to master the phrase “I love you, handsome” in Dutch, yet somehow fumbling over the words.

“Y/N, your pronunciation is getting better, but you need to keep practicing,” Anne encouraged from the other side of the screen, her fingers dancing over her keyboard. The rhythmic sound of her typing seemed to fill the space between them, as if punctuating her words with gentle encouragement. “Have you taken my advice and started watching shows in Dutch? Immersing yourself in the language will really help you improve, especially with those tricky pronunciations.”

Y/N leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms, and stared at the screen, her lips pressing together as she tried to hold back the exhaustion creeping in. She had been working hard at this—between the classes, the practice, the late nights watching Dutch shows, and the constant racing schedule with Max, it was all starting to feel like a lot. “Yeah, I’ve been talking to the TV like it’s my best friend,” she said with a small, self-deprecating chuckle, her voice sounding a bit weary. “The characters probably think I’m crazy by now. But, you know, I think I’m making progress? Or at least I hope I am.”

Anne’s eyebrows raised in an encouraging way. “Well, that’s the spirit! The more you immerse yourself, the more natural it will feel. Dutch can be tricky, especially with its sounds, but you’re not giving up, and that’s what matters.”

Y/N exhaled slowly, rubbing her temples. It had been one of those days—between working on the language and managing the quiet space Max left behind when he was away, the weight of it all was starting to wear on her. “I don’t know... I keep stumbling over the same words, Anne. Like, I feel like I’m so close to getting it, but then I hear myself speak Dutch, and it just sounds... off. I’m trying, but it’s hard to know if I’m really improving.”

Anne smiled gently from the screen, as though she understood exactly where Y/N was coming from. “That’s completely normal. Language learning isn’t a straight path. There are ups and downs, but the key is to be patient with yourself. Remember, it’s not about perfection—it’s about progress. You’re already doing so much more than most people would.”

“I guess so.” Y/N’s voice softened, her eyes drifting away for a moment, lost in thought. “I just wish I could see it, you know? Max always speaks so fluently, and when he says something sweet in Dutch, it sounds so effortless. I want to understand it all, to be able to speak with him like that without stumbling or needing translations.”

Anne nodded, her face sympathetic. “I get that. You want to connect with him in the language that’s so familiar to him, and that’s a beautiful thing. But don’t forget, language is just one part of communication. Max will appreciate your effort no matter where you are in your learning. It’s about the intention, the heart behind it. And besides, if you’re working hard at it, he’ll see that.”

Y/N let out a small sigh, leaning forward in her chair and running a hand through her hair. “I just want him to know how much I’m trying. I know it’s hard for him when the season gets tough, and I want to be able to understand him better, not just the words, but how he’s feeling... especially when he gets frustrated. I want to be able to share those moments with him in his language.” She looked back up at Anne, a mixture of fatigue and determination in her eyes. "But it's like I'm still learning a whole new world, Anne. It's a lot to take in."

Anne’s expression softened even more. “Learning a language is like learning a new way to see the world. And you’re doing it for the right reasons. Max will notice that. Even if you don’t think you’re where you want to be yet, he’s going to appreciate your effort, your commitment to him and to his language. And you’re already showing him that you care in ways most people wouldn’t.”

Y/N gave a faint smile, feeling the weight of Anne’s words settle into her. She took another deep breath, her gaze flickering back to the screen. “I hope so. I’m doing this for him, and... for me, too. It’s just hard to see the progress sometimes when you’re so deep in it.”

“Well, keep at it, Y/N,” Anne encouraged again, her voice gentle but firm. “The progress is there, even when you can’t see it. And remember, when Max comes back, you’ll have a whole new way of connecting. That’s something special. Now, how about we wrap up for today, and next time, we focus on a few of those tricky sounds you’ve been stumbling over?”

Y/N nodded, the exhaustion beginning to fade as she felt a renewed sense of determination wash over her. "Yeah, let’s do that. Thanks, Anne. Really."

Anne smiled warmly, her tone softening. “Good night, Y/N. You’re doing great. Keep going, and keep believing in yourself.”

With that, the call ended, leaving Y/N in the quiet of her room. As the screen went dark, she sat still for a moment, letting Anne’s words settle into her. She still had a long way to go with Dutch, but now, she felt a little less weighed down by it all. She stood up from the desk, stretched, and with a deep breath, made her way to the kitchen. There was more to learn, yes, but she could do it. For Max. And for herself

This had become her routine for the past few weeks—immersing herself in a new language while navigating the emotional ups and downs of Max's racing career. Each night flowed into the next, filled with lessons and the hope that her efforts would spark joy in him when he returned. In a way, she couldn’t help but feel that this small adventure might not only help her connect with him in a deeper way but also serve as a reminder that even in tough times, he had someone in his corner—someone ready to support him and learn alongside him.

Time passed, and soon enough, the hectic three-race weekend was behind them.

Y/N wasn’t exactly sure when Max would be home. The unpredictable nature of his F1 schedule made it hard to keep track of his exact arrival time. As the hours stretched on, she decided to make the most of the quiet afternoon. She started by tidying up the house, picking up scattered race memorabilia and smoothing out the couch cushions, which always seemed to get tossed around after a long weekend of travel. The kitchen was next—dishes stacked in the sink, a few crumbs left from breakfast, and the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air. She cleaned with a kind of absent-minded rhythm, her thoughts drifting between the tasks at hand and the excitement of his return.

Not wanting to spend the whole day indoors, Y/N grabbed her coat, slipped into her shoes, and decided to run a few errands to break the monotony. She mentally made a list of things she needed—a trip to the grocery store for fresh produce, perhaps a quick stop at the florist to pick up some flowers for the dining table. The gentle hum of the city as she walked outside felt like a welcome distraction. As she moved through the familiar streets, her mind kept drifting to Max—imagining his arrival later that evening and wondering how he would feel after the intense race weekend. With a small smile, she pushed the thought aside. There were errands to run, and time had a way of slipping by faster when you were busy.

After a while, Y/N decided it was time to head back home, the errands and quiet city stroll leaving her feeling a bit more tired than usual. The exhaustion crept up slowly, settling into her bones in the best way—a peaceful kind of tiredness that made the thought of being home all the more appealing. Once she stepped inside, she kicked off her shoes by the door and shrugged off her jacket, instantly feeling the comfort of her own space wrap around her.

She sank onto the couch, letting the weight of the day melt away, but it wasn’t long before she found herself wanting to do something—something simple and familiar to bring a sense of warmth and routine to the day. The kitchen seemed like the perfect place. She stepped into the kitchen, the warmth of the space a comforting contrast to the quiet of the house. Her mind immediately wandered to dessert—something sweet to fill the silence. Pulling out her phone, she swiped through a few recipe sites, curiosity leading her fingers. After a moment, she typed "Dutch desserts" into the search bar. Her eyes quickly landed on appeltaart, the iconic Dutch apple pie. The thought of the rich, spiced apples wrapped in buttery crust made her stomach rumble. It was exactly what the moment called for.

With a smile, she set the phone down and rolled up her sleeves. The comforting hum of her favorite playlist began to fill the room, chasing away the silence and replacing it with familiar tunes. As the music flowed through the speakers, she started pulling ingredients from the pantry—flour, sugar, butter, and cinnamon. She paused for a moment, letting the soft beat of the song take over as she laid everything out on the counter. The scent of cinnamon already began to stir a feeling of warmth and anticipation.

With a deep breath, she moved into the rhythm of the recipe, the steady motion of measuring, mixing, and prepping grounding her. She could already picture the golden crust and warm, sweet filling that would soon fill the kitchen, and her heart swelled with a sense of simple joy.

As she hummed softly to the tune playing in the background, completely engrossed in the rhythm of her mixing and the warmth of the kitchen, she remained oblivious to Max stepping through the front door, his footsteps barely audible on the hardwood floor. Max paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the room before he crept quietly toward the kitchen, careful not to make a sound. He peeked around the corner, his gaze falling on you as you worked your magic, your movements fluid and focused. A smile tugged at his lips as the sweet scent of apple pie hit him, and he inhaled deeply, savoring the warm, comforting aroma that filled the air.

Max moved silently behind her, his steps light as he closed the distance between them. With a smile, he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her close against him. He rested his chin on her shoulder for a moment, savoring the warmth of her presence, before pressing a tender kiss to her soft skin. As he inhaled the sweet scent of the kitchen, his lips brushed her shoulder, and he murmured in a low, appreciative voice, "Smells amazing."

The unexpected touch causes her to flinch, a small gasp escaping her as she instinctively tenses, but her body quickly relaxes when she turns to find Max standing there. A soft smile tugs at her lips as she meets his gaze. "I didn't hear you come in," she murmurs, her voice gentle and warm as she leans slightly into his embrace, feeling the comforting weight of his presence. She glances toward the counter, her hands still lightly dusted with flour, and then looks back at him, her eyes sparkling with a mix of affection and pride. "I made apple—" Her words falter for a brief moment, and she pauses, taking a breath before finishing with a playful smile, "Ik heb appeltaart gemaakt." (i made apple pie) She lets the Dutch phrase roll off her tongue with a touch of pride, her eyes lighting up as she anticipates his reaction to the homemade treat and at the sudden Dutch.

Max chuckles, the sound warm and teasing. "Oh, dus je spreekt nu Nederlands?" (Oh, so you speak Dutch now?) His eyes narrow playfully as he takes her in, studying her with a hint of disbelief, almost as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard. It takes a moment for her to process his words, the surprise registering on her face before a grin tugs at her lips. She lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head slightly as she meets his gaze. “Leren voor jou,” she responds with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, her voice light and teasing as she repeats the phrase—"Learning for you."

Max hums contentedly into her skin, his voice soft but filled with affection. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" His words are a gentle murmur, as though he's savoring the moment. She chuckles, the sound warm and light, as she wipes her hands on a nearby towel. Without missing a beat, she spins around, her eyes sparkling, and wraps her arms around him in a tight embrace. "I've missed you," she whispers into his chest, her voice filled with sincerity, as if the distance between them had only made her feelings stronger.

He gently pulls away, his hands lingering at her waist as he looks down at her, his eyes soft with affection. There’s a quiet warmth in his gaze, a tenderness that makes his heart swell with emotion. "I've missed you too," he murmurs, his voice low and sincere, the words wrapped in a quiet vulnerability. He smiles, a soft, almost teasing glint in his eyes as he adds, "Mijntje," (my little one), his tone filled with both love and playfulness. With a tender sigh, he leans down, his face drawing closer to hers. As he lowers himself, he brushes his lips gently against hers, the kiss soft and lingering, a promise of everything he feels for her in that quiet, intimate moment. 

She pulls back just enough to look into his eyes, her breath catching in the space between them. Her heart races, each beat carrying the weight of everything she feels for him. Her hands rest gently on his chest as she searches his gaze, finding warmth, safety, and a quiet promise there. With a soft sigh, she leans in just a little closer, her lips barely brushing his as she whispers, her voice trembling with sincerity, "Ik hou van jou."

The words, though soft, are heavy with all the emotions she can't quite put into words—years of trust, laughter, passion, and quiet moments, all wrapped in those simple yet profound syllables. His breath hitches, and a smile plays on his lips as he leans in, closing the small space between them with a kiss that feels like both a promise and a beginning. There’s a warmth radiating between them, an unspoken yearning that lingers in the air, electrifying yet restrained. The kiss deepens, lingering just a moment longer, igniting a flutter of anticipation in her chest—a taste of what could be. As they pull away, their eyes lock, and in that shared gaze lies a world of possibilities, a silent acknowledgment of the passion that awaits them.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

tag list : @heluvsjappie

[pikp0kcas3]

The Hazbin Hotel fandom’s issue with accepting aromanticism and asexuality

Now that it is officially Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week, I want to talk about this!

I find that, as an aroace myself, I am constantly grasping at good representation and coming up empty— it usually ends up in one of two ways.

One: the character is portrayed as emotionless, cold, and robotic in nature. It’s the question aromantic and/or asexual people are often asked: “Are you heartless?” The answer is no, of course, but general media makes it out to be the opposite.

Or two: Their lack of attraction is seen as something to “fix” because they “haven’t found the right one yet”, and they end up with a partner as a “happy ending”.

It frustrates me greatly because of how little people actually see aromanticism or asexuality as a true part of the LGBTQIA+ community.

So when I watched Hazbin Hotel, and I found out about Alastor being aroace, I was over the moon. I was on cloud nine. I also saw how his voice actor has looked up the term as an attempt to learn about aroaces, which makes me OVERJOYED?? Amir is truly a blessing, and I love that he’s proud to embody a character that’s part of our community. It’s so beautiful to finally have a proper character, a fan favorite at that, who just so happens to be aroace— and that’s another thing I love about this.

It’s never explicitly stated in the show (though it is stated in interviews), but it’s rather clear when you’re watching, isn’t it? Alastor’s aversion to any sort of sexual advancement, coupled with Rosie’s blatant “I know you’re an ace in the hole” comment sort of spell out his asexuality pretty clearly, as well as what side of the spectrum he falls upon. In addition, his Valentine’s day card was strictly platonic, which caters to his aromantic side. It feels so validating to finally be represented, to finally have a character in media who shares the same lack of interest in romance and sex as I do.

When I entered the fandom to look for more content, I kind of expected to see the same respect for Alastor’s orientation there too. But that… wasn’t the case? I am fully aware that aromanticism and asexuality are both spectrums— of course, aromantic and/or asexual people can enter those kinds of relationships. I’m not denying that and they belong in the community as much as anyone else on the spectrum.

But, the more I see the same line again and again and again, the more it feels like an excuse to just ship what you want.

Usually I don’t mind shipping? I’m often a firm believer in people shipping what they like as long as it’s harmless and they don’t go crazy over it. I also know for a fact that Viv doesn’t have a problem with people shipping her characters. They are fictional, after all.

But in this case, people are ignoring the very thing that makes Alastor a part of the aroace community! People are ignoring his lack of romantic or sexual attraction!

Is this not the same as changing a gay character’s orientation to suit a straight ship? If not, how so? I’m told that we are a part of this community, so why aren’t we being treated like it? Why is it so hard to accept the people on the end of the spectrum who aren’t interested?

Something I’ve been noticing throughout my life is that society has not exactly progressed very much on the idea of accepting asexual or aromantic identities. Maybe we have, a little, since the old days— but hell, people in “the old days”, which in truth wasn’t very long ago, believed that asexuality was a medical condition to be “fixed” by taking the right medication or having sex. That’s a pretty low bar to clear. And on the romance side, you’re seen as a “late bloomer” or “boring” if you don’t express interest. These days, being friends with someone is treated like a gateway to them possibly becoming a lover. Not getting married, not going on dates, not wanting a partner— it’s all treated like a crime when it’s not.

Maybe I’m selfish, or sensitive, or I’m butthurt over nothing, or I’m making it all about me. Maybe I’m gatekeeping or whatever the term is. But please, please, please, I just want an aroace character like me who simply is not interested in sex or romance.

And I want fandom to respect that. I admire the creations that fans make— the art, the animatics, the writing and the character analysis. And I want people to keep creating because creation is indeed a beautiful thing.

But I really would like people to treat aroace identities like they’re important. Like it’s more than just a spectrum to get wiggle room to wrangle in another ship.

[crazyw3irdo]

anyway has anyone else watched re:creators cause that fuckin ruled

you ever watch a show and are just like “holy shit that was so good, now that i’ve seen it all i can’t be spoiled i can’t wait to see what other people thought of it!” and search up its tag and then there’s like. 10 posts about it

[zumiiisumsum]

Coming from a benedict fan who also anticipated his season more, im absolutely not exaggerating when I say that I’ve never felt so emotionally invested and immersed in the chemistry of a bridgerton couple other than Polin. Their relationship just feels so much more genuine and refreshing and you can feel the actors’ real affection for one another through their characters. They rlly did some voodoo shit this season bc I physically CANNOT look away

I think that this is the first season that’s become such a turning point in the show. The tone of their relationship sets them apart from other bridgerton couples because they already know each other, and have already established a deep connection with each other regardless if the other person has fully realized it as romantic or not. Colin as a leading man is much more active rather than passive about his feelings; he ponders about his connection with Penelope and acts swiftly in just 4 episodes. The tension in their relationship isn’t the typical “will they?” situation because it is clear as day that they were meant for each other. What’s anticipated is not if but how they will navigate their relationship as their true selves together (Pen as whistledown, Colin as his original self).

Not to be THAT person, but it’s also one of the first bridgerton couple (for me atleast) that I felt blurred the lines that separated the character’s chemistry and the actors’ chemistry. At one point they were giggling in the carriage scene (such a good scene btw) and it felt like I was watching blooper reels. I thought to myself, “okay, now im just watching luke and nicola”. Maybe it’s because I watched too many of their press releases lmao. (I’m not gonna ship real people i promise!!! unless…)

[pinkmoontaco]

It all started at a Set || KMG Pt.3

Pairing: Actor-Idol Mingyu x Actress-Idol Reader Genre: Fluff, Idol romance Summary: This story is a heartwarming slow-burn romance between Mingyu and Y/N, a senior idol. It begins with them being cast as co-stars in a drama where their contrasting personalities—Mingyu’s vibrant, outgoing nature and Y/N’s reserved, composed demeanor—become the catalyst for an unexpected connection. Throughout their journey, they face professional challenges, emotional conflicts, and growing feelings for one another.

Author's note: Please, if possible, leave a small comment it really helps me to write more Part one _ Part two _ Part three

If you have any requests for any member or any other groups feel free to do so

The drama’s success was undeniable, and the cast was invited to a grand success party to celebrate the show's achievements. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and shared memories of the intense but rewarding filming process. Mingyu arrived with his usual charm, his members teasing him about how this was as much a celebration of his growth as an actor as it was for the drama’s success.

Y/N, meanwhile, was standing across the room, engaged in an animated conversation with the second lead, who had also won over fans with his portrayal. Her rare laugh rang out, catching Mingyu’s attention. He found himself watching her, a strange pang in his chest as he noticed how effortlessly the second lead made her smile.

“She looks like she’s enjoying herself,” one of Mingyu’s members commented teasingly, nudging him. “You okay there?”

“I’m fine,” Mingyu replied quickly, though his clenched jaw told a different story. He tried to focus on the celebration, but his gaze kept drifting back to Y/N. The sight of her laughing at another man’s jokes, the ease with which she seemed to connect with him—it was enough to make jealousy bubble up inside him.

Unable to hold himself back, Mingyu walked over, his steps purposeful. “Y/N,” he said, interrupting their conversation. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Y/N looked at him, surprised by the sudden interruption. “Uh, sure,” she said, excusing herself from the second lead.

He led her to a quieter corner of the venue, his heart racing. Before she could ask what was wrong, Mingyu did something completely out of character—he leaned down and kissed her. It was quick, almost fleeting, but it was enough to leave them both breathless. Realizing what he’d done, Mingyu pulled back, his eyes wide with panic.

“I—I’m sorry,” he stammered, his cheeks burning. Without waiting for her reaction, he turned and bolted, leaving Y/N standing there, stunned.

Y/N found him later that night on the rooftop of the venue, leaning against the railing, his shoulders tense. She walked up to him, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her. “Mingyu, what was that?”

He didn’t turn to face her, keeping his gaze fixed on the city lights. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly.

“Why did you, then?” she pressed, stepping closer. “You don’t get to just kiss me and then run away, Mingyu. Talk to me.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because I couldn’t help myself, okay?” he admitted, his voice laced with frustration. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, but every time I see you, every time you smile, I—I just can’t.”

Y/N’s breath hitched at his confession, but before she could say anything, he continued, his tone turning somber. “But it doesn’t matter. I can’t... I can’t do this right now.”

“Why not?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Because my group is at its peak,” he said, finally turning to face her. His eyes were filled with a mixture of longing and regret. “Everything we’ve worked for—it’s all happening now. I can’t let anything distract me from that, not even you.”

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat. “So you’re saying I’m a distraction?”

“That’s not what I mean,” he said quickly. “You’re amazing, Y/N. But I have responsibilities—my members, our fans, our future. I can’t be selfish right now.”

Silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Y/N nodded, her expression unreadable. “I understand,” she said, her voice steady despite the ache in her chest. “But you don’t get to push me away like this and expect me to wait forever, Mingyu.”

He looked at her, his eyes pleading. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I just... I can’t.”

Without another word, Y/N turned and walked away, leaving Mingyu alone on the rooftop, the city lights blurring as he blinked back tears.

The weeks following the success party were filled with promotional activities, interviews, and variety show appearances. Mingyu and Y/N were often paired together, their on-screen chemistry a major draw for fans. Despite their personal tension, they maintained a professional front, though their group members couldn’t help but notice the subtle shifts in their behavior.

During a joint guesting on a popular variety show, the host couldn’t resist teasing them. “So, Mingyu and Y/N, the nation’s favorite drama couple! Tell us, how did you two manage such incredible chemistry?”

Y/N smiled politely, giving a practiced response. “We both worked hard to bring our characters to life. It was all about understanding each other’s strengths as actors.”

Mingyu nodded, echoing her sentiment. “Y/N’s professionalism made it easy. She’s amazing to work with.”

Their co-stars smirked knowingly, while the host leaned closer. “Come on, there’s got to be more to it than that. Did you two practice those romantic scenes a lot off-camera?”

Mingyu laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Not really. We just... trusted each other.”

Y/N added, “And the director guided us a lot. It’s all thanks to the team.”

Despite their composed answers, the knowing glances exchanged between the cast and their group members didn’t go unnoticed by fans. Social media buzzed with theories about their relationship, with hashtags like #MingyuYNRomance trending worldwide.

When award season rolled around, the drama received multiple nominations, and the cast attended the ceremonies together. Mingyu and Y/N walked the red carpet side by side, their elegant outfits complementing each other perfectly. Fans cheered loudly, holding up signs and chanting their names.

Inside the venue, the tension between them was palpable. Seated next to each other, they exchanged polite smiles and small talk, but their group members noticed the lingering glances and subtle hesitations.

During one of the breaks, Mingyu’s fellow members cornered him. “Okay, spill it,” one of them said. “What’s going on with you and Y/N? You’re acting weird.”

“Nothing’s going on,” Mingyu insisted, though his flushed cheeks betrayed him.

“Yeah, right,” another member chimed in. “You’ve been acting like a lovesick puppy since the drama started.”

Meanwhile, Y/N’s groupmates weren’t letting her off the hook either. “You’ve been so distracted lately,” one of them remarked. “Does it have anything to do with a certain tall, charming co-star?”

Y/N sighed, shaking her head. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure, and I’m not a singer,” another member teased. “Come on, Y/N. We’re your friends. You can tell us.”

Despite their denials, the truth was becoming harder to hide. As they continued to navigate the whirlwind of promotions and public appearances, Mingyu and Y/N found themselves drawn to each other more than ever, their unresolved feelings simmering just beneath the surface.

The culmination of the award season came with the announcement of the Best Drama Couple award. As the presenter read their names, Mingyu and Y/N exchanged a surprised glance before standing up to accept the trophy together. The crowd erupted in applause, their fans going wild as they walked to the stage.

Standing under the bright lights, Mingyu took the microphone first. “Thank you so much for this honor. Working on this drama has been an incredible experience, and I’m grateful to have shared it with such an amazing team.”

He handed the microphone to Y/N, who smiled warmly. “This award belongs to everyone who worked tirelessly to make this drama a success. Thank you to the fans for supporting us and believing in our story.”

As they walked offstage, the host quipped, “Looks like the chemistry isn’t just on-screen!” prompting laughter from the audience and a shared, embarrassed smile from Mingyu and Y/N. Backstage, their group members were waiting, their teasing remarks only adding to the flurry of emotions the two were struggling to contain.

During one of Seventeen’s concerts, Mingyu found himself overwhelmed with emotion. As the group performed a heartfelt song dedicated to their fans, he felt the weight of everything he had been carrying—the success, the expectations, the unspoken feelings for Y/N. Tears streamed down his face as he sang, his voice trembling with raw emotion. The fans in the audience cheered louder, their love and support palpable.

The video of Mingyu crying during the performance quickly went viral, touching fans and even reaching Y/N’s group. One of her members showed her the clip during their downtime. “Look at him,” they said, smiling softly. “He’s always so composed, but this... this is different.”

Y/N watched the video, her heart aching as she saw the vulnerability in Mingyu’s expression. She didn’t say anything, but the sight of him like that stayed with her, a reminder of just how much he had been holding back.

Not long after, Y/N had her own moment of vulnerability during a live performance. Her group performed a ballad about heartbreak, and as Y/N sang the emotional climax, tears welled up in her eyes. The lyrics hit too close to home, and for a moment, she let her guard down, her voice quivering with the weight of her emotions. The audience was moved, their cheers a mix of admiration and sympathy.

Backstage, her members comforted her, while fans took to social media to express their support. Mingyu saw the performance later that night, and as he watched Y/N pour her heart out on stage, he felt a surge of longing and regret. She had always been so strong, but seeing her break down reminded him of how much she had been holding back as well.

Despite their best efforts to move forward, it was clear to everyone around Mingyu and Y/N that they were suffering. Mingyu was distracted during practices, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a subdued, distant energy. Meanwhile, Y/N, always composed and professional, was retreating into herself more than ever, her laughs sounding hollow even to her group members.

The tension didn’t go unnoticed by either group. During a shared music show appearance, Seventeen and Y/N’s group found themselves in the same waiting room. Between performances, Seungkwan finally spoke up, addressing both groups.

“I can’t take this anymore,” he said dramatically, earning a few chuckles. “Mingyu’s like a zombie lately, and I don’t think Y/N’s doing much better. They’re miserable.”

Y/N’s leader nodded in agreement. “It’s true. She’s been off since all of this started, even though she’s pretending she’s fine. Something has to give.”

Hoshi clapped his hands together, his eyes lighting up. “Then let’s make them talk!”

“Exactly,” Seungkwan agreed, his eyes gleaming with determination. “They’re clearly in love but too stubborn to admit it.”

The group members exchanged knowing glances, quickly forming a plan.

A few days later, Mingyu received a cryptic text from Joshua, asking him to meet at a quiet café in Seoul. Mingyu was confused but figured it was nothing unusual. At the same time, Y/N’s leader convinced her to visit the same café, claiming they had an errand to run.

When Mingyu arrived, he looked around, confused to find no sign of Joshua. Moments later, the bell above the door chimed, and Mingyu turned to see Y/N stepping in.

She froze when she spotted him, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Mingyu replied, standing up. “Joshua told me to meet him here.”

“My leader said the same thing,” Y/N muttered, crossing her arms.

It didn’t take long for them to realize what was happening. Turning toward the window, they spotted their group members sitting in a nearby van, grinning and waving. Hoshi held up a sign that read: "TALK IT OUT!"

Mingyu let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Looks like we’ve been set up.”

Y/N crossed her arms, but her lips twitched with a hint of amusement. “Well, they’re not wrong.”

Inside the café, they sat across from each other in a corner booth. The silence was deafening, with Mingyu nervously tapping his fingers against his coffee cup while Y/N stared out the window.

Finally, Mingyu broke the silence. “I’ve missed you.”

Y/N turned to him, her expression softening but guarded. “Mingyu…”

“No, let me say this,” he interrupted, his voice filled with urgency. “I thought I was doing the right thing by pushing you away. I told myself it was for your sake, but all I’ve done is hurt both of us. And I hate it, Y/N. I hate being without you.”

Her lips parted as if to say something, but she stopped, letting him continue.

“I was scared,” Mingyu admitted. “Scared of what this would mean for you, for me, for our careers. But now I know that I was just making excuses. I don’t care about any of that anymore. All I care about is you.”

Y/N blinked back tears, her voice trembling as she responded. “I was scared too, Mingyu. But I never wanted you to go through this alone. I wanted to be there for you, but you wouldn’t let me.”

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I’m sorry. I’m done running away. I’m ready if you are.”

Her lips curved into the faintest smile, and she nodded. “Okay. But we have to face this together, Mingyu. No more shutting each other out.”

“Together,” he promised, reaching across the table to take her hand.

From the van outside, their group members erupted into cheers, causing curious passersby to glance their way. “Mission accomplished!” Seungkwan declared triumphantly.

“Finally,” Y/N’s leader said, grinning. “Now maybe we can have some peace.”

When Mingyu and Y/N stepped out of the café hand in hand, their groupmates burst into applause. Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile, while Mingyu laughed, his ears turning red. Their friends quickly pulled them into a playful group hug, sealing the moment with their shared excitement

Their relationship brought new dynamics to both groups. Mingyu and Y/N started dating discreetly, often sneaking out for late-night walks or quick café visits between their busy schedules. However, their group members were far from subtle about their budding romance.

During one practice session, Woozi casually remarked, “So, did you two have a good date last night?” Mingyu choked on his water, while Y/N shot him a warning look. The room erupted into laughter.

Another time, Y/N’s group members cornered her during a makeup session. “Did Mingyu really buy you that bracelet?” one of them teased, pointing at the delicate chain on her wrist. Y/N tried to deny it, but her flushed cheeks gave her away.

Months into their relationship, after much discussion and deliberation, Mingyu and Y/N decided to make their relationship public. They wanted to share their happiness with fans who had supported them through every step of their journey.

One quiet evening, both posted matching statements on their respective social media accounts. The posts included a candid photo of them holding hands during a sunset walk, along with heartfelt messages thanking their fans and promising to continue their careers with the same dedication and love.

The reactions were immediate and overwhelming. Fans flooded the comments with messages of support, some even recalling the sparks they had noticed during the drama’s promotions. Within minutes, their names trended worldwide, with hashtags like #MingyuYNRomance and #SupportLove gaining traction.

Their group members, of course, couldn’t resist chiming in. Seungkwan posted a screenshot of the announcement with the caption, “Finally!” followed by several heart emojis. Y/N’s leader commented, “About time! Proud of you both.”

In the days that followed, they appeared on a variety show to address the news. When asked how it felt to go public, Mingyu joked, “I feel lighter now. No more sneaking around!” Y/N laughed, adding, “And no more teasing from our members…hopefully.”

The hosts congratulated them, and the episode was filled with lighthearted banter about their romance, including a reenactment of their first on-screen kiss, much to their embarrassment. Their members, seated in the audience, cheered loudly and made exaggerated heart signs, causing the couple to dissolve into laughter.

Despite the initial nerves, the public response was overwhelmingly positive. Fans praised their courage and celebrated the love story that had unfolded before their eyes. With the support of their loved ones and fans, Mingyu and Y/N embraced their relationship openly, proving that love and career could coexist beautifully.

While promoting on separate shows, the teasing didn’t stop. During an episode of a cooking show where Y/N was a guest, the host brought up Mingyu. “So, does your boyfriend cook for you?” he asked with a sly smile. Y/N nearly dropped the bowl she was holding, her flustered reaction earning laughs from the crew.

Meanwhile, on a talk show with Seventeen, the host slyly mentioned Y/N’s name while discussing Mingyu’s favorite co-stars. The members immediately jumped in, with Seungkwan exclaiming, “You mean his favorite person in general!” Mingyu buried his face in his hands, mumbling, “Why do I even talk to you guys?”

As the teasing continued on the talk show, the host couldn't resist digging a little deeper. "So, Mingyu, does Y/N have a favorite dish of yours? Or maybe something you cooked that she pretended to like?"

Mingyu, still blushing from Seungkwan's antics, looked up with a sheepish grin. "Well... she says she likes my kimchi stew, but I think she’s just being nice. She’s a really good cook herself, so it’s a little intimidating."

The members, of course, weren’t about to let that go. DK leaned forward with mock seriousness. "Mingyu, are you saying that your love language is cooking, but you’re worried you’ll never win against hers?"

The audience burst into laughter, and Mingyu groaned, "You guys are the worst!" But the fond smile on his face betrayed him.

Meanwhile, Y/N faced her own set of playful jabs. During another variety show appearance with her group, the topic of dating naturally came up. The host smirked and said, "So, Y/N, is it true that someone has been giving you pointers on acting lately?"

Y/N blinked, caught off guard, but one of her members jumped in with a laugh. "Oh, she’s had lots of inspiration lately. Isn’t that right, Y/N?"

Y/N shot her a look but couldn’t hide the small smile forming on her lips. "Maybe," she replied, trying to keep it vague, but the knowing chuckles from the audience told her it was no use.

As time passed, their relationship grew even stronger. Their fans, though initially surprised by the announcement, were incredibly supportive. Fan projects celebrating their relationship popped up worldwide, ranging from fan art and video edits to organized donation drives in their names.

Even during promotions, fans showed their love. At a fan signing event, Mingyu received a note from a fan that read, "Thank you for being brave enough to share your happiness with us. We're rooting for you and Y/N!" He couldn’t help but beam, and later, when Y/N was shown a photo of the note by her own fans, she smiled fondly.

Their groups also made light of their relationship during joint appearances. During a game segment on a music show, Y/N’s leader and Seungkwan ended up on the same team. At one point, Y/N's leader turned to him and said, "We should work together more often. Maybe we’ll pick up some of Mingyu and Y/N’s chemistry."

Seungkwan clapped dramatically. "Exactly! Let’s call it inspiration. They’ve raised the bar for all of us!"

The playful exchanges were always met with laughter, and though Mingyu and Y/N often rolled their eyes at the teasing, it was clear they appreciated the love and support surrounding them.

One memorable moment came during Seventeen’s encore stage at an awards show where Y/N’s group was also present. Fans had been hoping for some interaction, and they weren’t disappointed. During the song, Mingyu subtly glanced toward Y/N’s group, catching her gaze for just a moment. The fans screamed as Y/N, always composed, broke into a shy smile.

Later that night, as they sat together at the after-party, Mingyu whispered, "You smiled at me on stage."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, pretending to be unimpressed. "And? You’re acting like it’s the first time."

He grinned. "It’s different when millions of people are watching."

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "You’re impossible."

Their love story, now openly celebrated, became a symbol of balance and determination. Fans admired how they managed their busy lives while supporting each other. Their interviews began to touch on the theme of love and career, with both of them often emphasizing the importance of trust and mutual respect.

"People think it’s hard to date when you’re in the spotlight," Mingyu said during an interview. "And it is. But when you find the right person, it feels worth it."

Y/N, in a separate interview, shared similar sentiments. "It’s about understanding each other’s worlds and growing together. I’m lucky to have someone who does that."

As the years passed, their relationship only grew stronger, weathering the ups and downs of fame together. Their story wasn’t just about two idols in love—it became an enduring tale of growth, courage, and the power of love to thrive, even in the most extraordinary circumstances.

[sofreddie]

Not Our First Fan

Summary: Y/N is a friend, but also a fan. Dosing her with a truth serum should reveal if she's a threat, like other fans in the past. But what's revealed surprised them even more.

Characters: Dean x F!Reader, Sam, Castiel, Rowena

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Drugging, First POV/Alternating POV, Smut (Protected Sex, Oral Sex), Mentions of Breeding Kink

WC: 12, 393 (Yikes!)

A/N: Ok, so, over the course of a few months, when I had to take my roommate's kid to speech therapy, I sat in the car in the parking lot and just wrote. A little each time until it grew into this massive and awesome fic, and I am so happy to share it! Feedback is appreciated. : )

My Masterlist

Y/N POV

I sat in stunned silence across the table from Sam and Dean, my eyes flitting between them as I processed what Sam had just said. There was a truth serum in my drink. He had questions and didn’t trust my potential responses.

I hadn’t been with them long, an accident that landed me - a mere fan - in their lives. Although we had become amicable, I never thought they’d use such methods.

“So, what do you want to know?”

I was surprised at my calm tone as I polished off my drink and pushed the glass away. It was already in me; there was no need to be thirsty or sober.

“The truth.”

“Obviously.” I rolled my eyes at Sam before glancing at Dean, who sat silently and watched.

“We have to know; to protect ourselves. Not our first fan.”

I rolled my eyes again. I knew that, too, but it didn’t stop me from feeling offended.

“Is there a question, or…?”

Sam snorted at my attitude. There was no escaping this, so I hoped I could play it like it didn’t scare me or that I had nothing to hide.

“Fine.” He sat up straighter and shook his arms before leaning forward, casually resting his arms on the table as he leveled a heavy gaze at me. “How do you honestly think and feel about me?”

He smirked slightly at my surprised look. I didn’t want to answer, but I could feel the words bubbling up on their own, trying to hold them back, making me sick to my stomach.

“You’re really freakin’ hot. Nice to look at. I would love a night or two to bang you like a screen door in a hurricane. But there’s a lot I don’t like, and I don’t see anything beyond friends because of your issues.”

My eyes widened with every word that fell, and I was mortified when I finished. I couldn’t read Sam, but he seemed equally surprised, smug, and offended. At least it shut him up for a minute. Dean, however, was unchanged and unreadable.

“Well, I guess it’s safe to say it’s working,” Sam huffed humorlessly.  

I wished a hole would open and swallow me up, take me away from this forming shitstorm.

“So,” he leaned forward again, and I already knew what he would ask next. I shook my head, silently begging him not to. “How do you honestly think and feel about Dean?”

God, I fought. My fingers gripped the table, and I shook my head as pained sounds passed through my pressed-shut lips. The word vomit was collecting in the back of my throat to choke me.

"Y/N?" Sam pressed, probably wondering - same as myself - how I was holding back. Dean's shell cracked enough that I could see concern.

“I love and admire him,” I spat, the words painfully and forcefully pulled from me, my heart and mind feeling shredded with each uttered word. “I’m in love with him. I want to show him he is worthy of love and be the one to give it to him. And kids. And the Hunter Pie life. To give him all he ever wanted because he deserves it and more.”

Tears streamed down my face, and I panted to breathe as twin looks of utter shock passed over the brothers.

“Please,” I begged, jumping from my seat. “Please, no more. Don’t do this.”

As they hesitated, I took the opening and ran like hell from the Library to my room. I could hear them shouting as I retreated in horror.

“Don’t. Let her go, Sam.”

“Dean!”

I slammed and locked the bedroom door behind me, then slowly fell into bed, hard sobs wracking my body, and my heart shattered until I passed out.

-

I was determined to forget about it when I woke up. Or, I would do my best to ignore them and continue my usual domestic duties. 

I went to the bathroom and the kitchen to start coffee and breakfast. I liked helping out, and Dean especially seemed appreciative, which only encouraged me. Would that change now? Maybe they’d make me leave because what I said was too awkward.

As I finished cooking, I heard the Bunker door close, meaning Sam must have returned from his morning run and would be heading to the showers. Another door closing alerted me that Dean would be entering the kitchen at any moment seeking coffee.

I sipped from my mug on the island as he shuffled into the room like a half-asleep zombie and poured himself a cup. It took a few gulps before he could open his eyes enough to see me.

“Mornin’,” he spoke gruffly, and I fought back the swoon as usual.

“Mornin’,” I responded. “Uh, there’s breakfast. Help yourself.”

I forced a smile, then grabbed my mug, taking hurried steps desperate to carry me out of the room and away from the man I loved—who now knew I loved him. But that beautiful man was also intelligent and quick and wouldn’t let me get away so quickly.

“Y/N?” He sat down his coffee and stepped closer. “About last night. I’m sorry; that shouldn’t have happened. We… were paranoid and worried it might be like Becky or something all over again, and we just wanted to be sure.”

As he explained, I looked to the ground but nodded to his words. In a way, I got it, but it still didn’t make it okay.

“You never…” he paused and licked his lips. “You never said anything. Never even gave a hint. I mean,” he chuckled, “I really didn’t see that coming.”

“I was never going to say anything,” I admitted, and he looked confused and something else. “I was never going to act on it. It was my secret and my burden. But now it’s all weird, and you probably want me to leave.”

Oh Lord, I couldn’t cry in front of him again!

“Why would I want you to leave?”

His question left me speechless, and I wasn’t sure how best to answer.

“You know,” he moved as he spoke, approaching closer and closer until my back hit the counter, and there was an arm’s length between us. “Women have told me they love me and can picture a life or future with me. But never in this life, never in a hunting life. And none of them, not one, has ever wanted to have my children.”

Okay. Where was he going with this? I was too nervous and scared to move or make a sound. I dared to meet his eyes and instantly regretted it as I felt my heart flutter madly.

“And I have no idea what a Hunter Pie life is,” he chuckled before moving just a few inches before me. “But I’ve been thinking about it all night.”

His words, eyes, and closeness were daring me to do something. But that couldn’t be right. In all my fantasies, I never believed that he would ever entertain the idea. But now… Dean groaned as his phone rang in his pocket, and I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Jody, hey," Dean answered, stepping a few feet away to focus on the call. “Yeah, Okay. Sam and I can be there in a couple of hours. All right, see you soon.”

He hung up and sighed, returning to me as Sam entered the room. We all glanced at each other before Dean cleared his throat.

“Jody and the girls,” Dean tucked his phone back in his pocket. “Got a case, and they need our help. Ready in ten?”

Sam huffed but nodded, giving the food a yearning glance before rushing to pack. Dean lingered, running a hand down his face and flashing a tight smile before heading off to get ready. I wasn’t sure if I was grateful or sad, but I was certainly confused.

I rushed through the kitchen, packing up breakfast and some other food for them to take with them. I always tried to give them premade meals in thermal coolers that they could refrigerate or microwave. They seemed to appreciate having home-cooked food while away.

As the brothers loaded their bags, I carried the cooler and a paper bag of immediate consumables to the car. I placed the cooler on the back floorboard before handing Dean the paper bag.

“Thanks,” he grinned, passing the bag to Sam, who immediately started digging through it. I expected him just to climb in and leave, but he paused while fidgeting with his keys.

“Please don’t leave while we’re gone.”

I wasn’t expecting that, but the idea was one of many emotionally driven bad decisions I had been considering.

“We’ll talk,” he promised with a nod. “I’ll text and call, and we’ll talk.”

I nodded and gave the same tight-lipped smile he’d given before. Then, I let out a sigh of relief as they drove away.

-

Dean POV

God, this hunt came at the shittiest possible time. I didn’t want to go. Leaving felt like closing the door on this thing I just discovered. But I didn’t have a choice.

Jody and Claire stumbled on a vamp nest that was the biggest they’d ever seen. It was a giant damn hive. Though she’d called Donna and a few others, it was an ‘all hands on deck’ situation. It didn’t mean I wanted to leave. Something was brewing, changing between Y/N and me. I was terrified it would disappear if I couldn’t tend to it. But if she genuinely meant what she said, then I supposed this could be a test of that. Or maybe even a way to feel it out over text. Face-to-face always made shit complicated and awkward. I was less likely to fuck anything up this way, but still fully capable.

“So,” Sam broke the silence, and my grip tightened on the wheel. “We gonna talk about what happened last night?”

“Sam, I told you to leave it.”

“No, Dean!”

His persistence pissed me off. I didn’t want to get into it with him, but he was on a mission.

“Look, we agreed to give her the serum and question her. We wanted to see what she knew and if she was a threat, like Becky. I thought asking those questions first might be awkward but clear the air. I wasn’t expecting…that.”

“She’s not a threat, Sam.”

“Well, we don’t know that because we didn’t get to ask her anything.”

“What’s really got you so worked up, huh? You mad she’s just not that into you?”

My brother’s annoyed bitchface was satisfying enough to make me smirk. At least he shut up for half a second.

“Don’t you get it?” Sam growled through clenched teeth. “She could be YOUR Becky, Dean. Who knows what she might do if she thinks she loves you.”

My hands wrung the wheel a little harder as I resisted the urge to hit him. I’m unsure why I felt so protective of her then, but I knew she wasn’t like Becky. She wasn’t like any of them, but I couldn’t prove it to him.

“Sam, let me handle this. Please.”

His stunned silence made me glance over to see him gaping like a fish and over-analyzing.

“Yeah. Okay.” He huffed, turning his gaze to the window. I rolled my eyes so hard my head went with it.

“Don’t say ‘Yeah. Okay.’ like…Yeah. Okay.”

“Yeah,” He shrugged, pretending to lose interest in the conversation. “Okay.”

I pressed the pedal harder. Maybe this hunt came at the perfect time. I really needed something to kill.

-

It was a bloodbath: so many vamps and beheadings, so many injured hunters, so many dead or turned victims. Though we cleared the nest with no casualties to our team, it didn’t feel like much of a victory. No one was saved.

There was still celebration and rivalry to be had as we patched each other up and cheered over the mass amount of bloodsucking bastards we killed and future victims we spared.

It was just what I needed to get the itching energy and simmering anger at my brother out of my system. Now buzzed and beat, I only wanted one thing at that moment. As everyone, including my overgrown baby brother, went to bed, I grabbed my beer and quietly wandered outside. I found myself sitting on Baby’s hood and appreciating the quiet and still night. Pulling out my phone, I dialed Y/N. It was late, and she might be asleep, but I needed to hear her voice. 

I’d kept my word, and we’d been texting, but it was mostly to keep her apprised of the hunt. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it or her since those seemingly fateful words tumbled from her lips. As her sleepy voice answered, I felt a flutter in my heart, making me feel like a kid again.

“Dean?” she yawned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Hunt’s done. Was a ton of them bastards.” I tried to laugh but knew she’d see through it

“Is everyone alright?”

“Little banged up, but we’re all good. No vics to save, though.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It was a mess,” I sighed, and a comfortable silence fell between us. I needed a distraction. “You never did tell me about this Hunter Pie life of yours.” I chuckled for real this time, maybe some of it nerves, as I hoped she’d talk to me and open up without a serum. When she giggled, I felt the flutters again.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just…tell me how it looks. In your mind, how does it go?”

“Wow,” she huffed and chuckled again before clearing her throat. “Um, okay.”

The silence drew out again, and I wondered if she was backing out, but then she continued.

“Okay. Well, I guess I always thought it would be like it is now, you know? Like me cooking and domestic and stuff at the Bunker.”

She ‘always’ thought? I pinned a note in that for later, but I hoped she had more. I hummed to let her know I was listening. She just didn’t know I was hanging on to her every word.

“Family meals where you and Sam tell the kids and me about the hunt. Giving them a normal life and home base while keeping them informed and trained. Hide and seek in the Bunker with Nerf guns and call it a hunt.”

She was laughing, and I could hear her smile as she spoke, mine growing with her tales.

“There are so many scenarios where you could play games with the kids that’s still training. Or just spending time doing normal things.”

It sounded amazing, though I wasn’t entirely convinced it was possible. But hearing and picturing it made me feel infinitely better, among other things.

“And what about us?” I knew I was crossing a line into new territory. Begging her to tell me all this, I knew, was giving her hope—and much-needed hope for me.

“Us?” She echoed, and I grinned at her surprised tone. “I just want to take care of you. To show you that you are worthy and deserve it all and more. To be lucky enough to be in your arms. To give you whatever you need and want. To hold you, listen, patch you up, and watch movies in bed while eating junk food.”

We laughed together, and I had to wipe away a tear. I could see it so clearly. I wished I was there to wrap her in my arms like she described. The WANT that simmered within me was something I’d never felt before.

When she yawned, I felt like an ass, having woken her just to make myself feel better. But it did exactly what I’d hoped.

“I’m sorry; I’m gonna let you get back to bed. It’s late.”

“You sure?” 

She seemed disappointed, and I was, too. But we both needed sleep and the sooner I got that, the quicker I’d return to her.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Sooner I sleep, the sooner I can get home.”

I hadn’t meant to say that, but her soft chuckle made it worthwhile.

“I’ll be waiting.”

We said our goodnights and hung up. She’d be waiting for me, for us to begin. I just needed a couple of hours of sleep, and then I’d push Baby to her limits to get back home as quickly as possible.

-

Y/N POV

What the fuck was that? What just happened? I tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes but couldn’t fight the tiredness pulling me back under.

When I woke up again, I felt good and refreshed. Then I remembered the call from the night before. I dove for my phone on the nightstand to find a text from Dean.

Dean: Heading out soon. See you in a few hours. ;)

It had already been nearly two hours since he’d sent the text. I jumped out of bed in a panic, knowing there wasn’t much time before they’d return. Did he even sleep?

I rushed to shower and dress before going to the kitchen and making coffee. I wasn’t sure how much time I had, but I knew Sam and Dean would be hungry.

I tried to focus on cooking, but I kept replaying our conversation from the night before. And what was with the winky face? Did last night mean something, or did he need comfort after a lousy hunt? The things I said—how could I look him in the eye?

When the roar of the Impala entering the garage sounded through the Bunker, I fought the urge to run and hide. Just…act NORMAL.

“Damn, it smells good in here.”

I turned to see Sam and Dean entering the kitchen with big smiles. However, they both looked like they’d had their asses handed to them on that hunt. 

“We’re fine,” Dean answered, my concern written on my face. This was gonna be harder than I thought.

“I figured y’all would probably be hungry.”

“He’s always hungry,” Sam teased as he made a plate. I was glad he seemed to ease the tension I was choking on.

“Just glad that’s all over,” Dean responded, joining Sam at the table.

“Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” I told them before slinking to my room to hide like a coward.

Just as I thought, I couldn’t look either of them in the eye. What if they talked about it, about me? Of course, they did. Were things just going to be unbearably awkward now? How long could I pretend and hide?

Turns out, not long at all.

“Hey, Y/N?”

Dean knocked on the partially open door before opening it and stepping inside the room.

“Hey, Dean. Need something?”

Yeah, just keep it cool—really chill.

“Yeah,” he grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. Wait, was he nervous? “I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie in my room or something.”

This really was happening.

“Netflix and chill?” I teased and laughed, watching his tension ease. “That’s your play?”

“Well, you’re the one who mentioned it in our planned future,” he teased back, and my confidence faltered for a minute.

“I thought you might want to get some sleep. It didn’t seem you got much between our call and that text.”

“Then we’ll watch and nap,” he shrugged, taking my hand and guiding me to his room. And, of course, I went willingly, following him in a trance and soaking up the warmth of his touch.

Once in his room, he released my hand to set up something on the TV. I sat on the end of the bed, hands in my lap as I awkwardly tried to figure out what to do and how to act. He kicked off his shoes and flannel, leaving him in jeans and a t-shirt before dramatically flopping onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

“Come here?” he asked as he patted the space beside him.

“‘Kay,” I grinned and eagerly slid beside him, smiling harder as his arm settled around my shoulders, tucking me into his side.

I had dreamed and fantasized about this moment - as simple and innocent as it may be - so many times, and now it was a reality. I was more than surprised that his reaction to my truth was desire. But if he genuinely gave me a chance, I was determined to give him everything I said and more. Whatever he wanted, I was prepared to give.

-

Dean POV

It had been years since I’d done something as simple as cuddling and watching a movie. It felt intimate and special. As she quoted a line from the film, eating some junk food I’d laid out, I wondered if it was a djinn dream or a spell.

I wasn’t a blind fool, much as Sam tried to insist I was. I knew she was a fan, and we didn’t know much about her, which was why I agreed to the serum to begin with.

But I’d observed her plenty in her time with us. She was kind and helpful and an artist in the kitchen. She was a natural caregiver. She was funny and charming. She was super bright, too, with how she spoke, things she knew, and how easily she took to research - which she also happened to be great at. It didn’t hurt she was hot as fuck, but she had no clue.

Then, learning she was in love with me sent my mind reeling. I wasn’t a total idiot - letting this, her, pass me by would be the dumbest thing ever. I had to try, take a chance, or regret it forever.

She noticed when I glanced at her, turning her head to meet my eyes. Letting the moment sweep me away, I leaned in, pleasantly surprised when she slowly met me in the middle. My eyes fluttered, and I hummed at the sweet little spark that tingled my lips. I tilted my head, kissing her a little harder, more sure. She responded in kind, and that spark shot down my spine.

Cupping her jaw, I titled her head as I ran my tongue along the seam of her lips, begging her to open to me. I needed to taste her as much as I needed my next breath.

When she parted her lips, a gentle moan spilled forth. When my tongue slipped past her lips and tasted her soft, warm tongue, a responding moan was ripped from my chest. She tasted divine. Her tongue chased after my own, but I could feel her restraint. She was holding back; I knew it was because she was unsure, not in her feelings or wanting me. Instead, she didn’t know what I was after, too afraid to push forward and break the spell.

I pulled back, intent on breaching the topic, but a knock at my door broke the trance. Stupid Sam and his lousy timing. Another firm series of knocks had me rolling my eyes and groaning. Reluctantly, I released Y/N and opened the door; Sam was surprised to see her on the bed behind me.

“Hey, do you have a minute?” he asked, casting her a wary glance. I stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind me, following him a few feet down the hall.

“What, Sam?”

-

Sam POV

I wanted to talk to Dean about Y/N and this whole situation. I wasn’t expecting to find her in Dean’s bed with flushed cheeks. This whole thing was quickly spinning out of control.

“Het, got a minute?”

I didn’t want to have this conversation with Y/N around. Luckily, Dean closed the door and followed me down the hall.

“What, Sam?”

“What are you doing?”

“Sam, I told you-”

“No, Dean. We don’t know what her game is. She could have done a spell or made a deal. And you’re in there feeding her little fantasy.”

My older brother was incredibly defensive. He stood tall and stubborn with his arms crossed, but I could see in his eyes that he wanted to hit me.

“Look,” Maybe changing tactics would get him to see reason. I didn’t want to see him taken advantage of for the sake of some crazy fanatics’ whims. “All I’m saying is let’s look into her and this more. Talk to Cas, maybe Crowley or Rowena. Just…make sure it’s, you know, legit.”

As Dean slightly relaxed, I saw I was finally getting through to him. Y/N was nice to have around, but my paranoia wouldn’t rest until I was confident she wouldn’t cause us harm.

“Fine,” Dean agreed in a huff, his arms dropping to his sides. “Call Cas or whatever, do your research. Meanwhile, I’m going back to her and enjoying what I KNOW is real.”

Neither of us expected to see Y/N standing in the open doorway. I wasn’t sure how much she’d heard, but she looked hurt and determined.

“I’m gonna go to my room. Let you all figure this out.”

“Y/N-”

“It’s okay, Dean. Sam’s right; you can’t be sure, and I want you to be sure.”

She left the hall and went to her room. I was relieved and also incredibly guilty. That could be part of her plan. But as Dean turned back to face me, I again worried he’d throw a punch.

“You get what you wanted,” Dean spat through gritted teeth.

“Dean, I’m just looking out for you. You did the same thing with Becky, and it was for the best.”

He nodded but silently returned to his room, slamming the door loud enough to make me jump. I’d call Cas and Rowena to get to the bottom of this.

-

I stood in the Bunker’s library two days later with Y/N, Dean, Castiel, and Rowena. Except, all eyes were pointed at me with varying expressions.

While Dean was against it, Y/N allowed Cas and Rowena to poke, prod, and pry at her and her mind, searching for anything unusual. But there was nothing. According to Cas and Rowena - who both looked at me with pained sympathy - her love for Dean was pure and true, the real deal and soul-deep.

Dean looked at me with smugness and contempt. I knew he was feeling so damn righteous. But Y/N - she looked defeated and heartbroken. I knew I was an ass, but I couldn’t help feeling something was still off. If she knew all the horrible details of our lives and the many things we’d done - why the hell would she love either of us? Especially my love-em-and-leave-em brother?

“Are we done?” Y/N spoke, standing tall, but I could see the tears in her eyes and the waver in her voice. “Can I go?”

-

Y/N POV

After two whole days of being ripped open and exposed, working to prove myself in ways I never intended, I was more than done. I wanted to be thrilled at meeting the angel and the witch, but the circumstances left me feeling violated in many ways.

“Are we done? Can I go?”

I didn’t wait for a response, turning and heading for my room before the tears fell. I couldn’t bear it anymore. I didn’t even leave the library before a hand grabbed my arm.

“Y/N, wait,” Dean pleaded. I turned to him, and a single tear escaped to stream down my face.

“I just want to go. To forget any of this ever happened.”

“You could do that?” Dean asked, and my heart clenched at the hurt on his face. “Forget it?”

“No, but I have to,” I pulled slowly from his touch, already missing it.

“We can do this; we can make it work,” he insisted, and I shook my head and laughed, though it was without humor.

“THIS wouldn’t have happened if you two hadn’t snuck a truth serum in my drink. Sam questioned me, ripping my secrets from me, doubting me entirely. And you…you did nothing. Sam is the most important person in your life. If he’s not on board, it will never work.”

He didn’t say anything, but my words struck a chord. He didn’t try to stop me when I retreated a second time. While I was grateful, it also hurt. At least nothing more than a kiss happened. It might be easier to recover.

-

Dean POV

Hurt and anger were all I could feel. I understood Y/N’s position somewhat, though it hurt that she’d turn away. I turned to face my brother, all my anger directed at him.

“Are you happy now?” I shouted at him, and he dared to appear surprised. “This is your fault.”

“Dean, I’m just-”

“Looking out for me? Yeah, I know. But why does it feel like you’re jealous?”

“Whoa, I’m not-”

“You’re both daft fools,” Rowena spoke as she busied herself with tidying the items on the table.

“Excuse me?” Sam and I spoke at the same time.

“You two have put that poor lass through hell trying to find the truth. A truth that’s pure love. And while you act like you want it, you’ve done nothing. You let Sam question and doubt her. And she’s right; it’ll never work if Sam doesn’t support it because you two are so grossly intertwined. And you, Samuel,” she turned her fiery attention to Sam, and I felt a little scared for him. “You’re so busy thinking her love is undeserved that you must find a reason it can’t be real.”

“Undeserved?” I looked at my brother; his silent shame told me all I needed. “That’s it, right?”

“Dean, come on. How could someone know everything we’ve done and still love us—love you? I mean, love and relationships aren’t your thing. Don’t you think maybe someone or something is behind this?”

“Sam,” Castiel chimed in to chastise my brother.

I couldn’t look at him any longer, or I would kick his ass. I took off to my room. I wanted to go after Y/N, to beg for forgiveness, but I knew I couldn’t go to her as angry as I was, and she needed space, too. As I realized I may have genuinely lost this before I even got to glimpse it, I felt my lips tingle with the phantom press of her lips to mine. I’d just have to wait to let her come to me. I hoped she still wanted to and that Sam would get his head out of his ass.

-

Sam POV

Several weeks had passed since this whole truth serum mess with Y/N, and I was left feeling like a complete dick.

After Cas and Rowena checked her over, we all went our separate ways. Things in the Bunker seemed to go back to how they were, except no one talked to each other outside of pleasantries or necessity.

My brother would glare at me or make a snide remark to ensure I knew he was pissed. He felt I ruined everything, and maybe he was right. Y/N still cooked and cleaned and helped with research. But she didn’t make eye contact or small talk or linger. She didn’t eat with us or stay in the room for long. It made Dean more bitter every day.

I knew I had let my paranoia and fear get the better of me, and maybe I was a little bit jealous. Out of the two of us, I was the one who was only worth a good time? But as I reflected on her time with us and her interactions with Dean, I realized how much they had in common and enjoyed each other's company—even without romance mixed in.

I had to figure out how to make this right for both of them. I just had to convince Y/N I was sorry and wrong and that she and Dean should try to be together. Then Dean would forgive me, and all would be right again.

-

Dean POV

Sam had tried talking to me and apologized. I was grateful but still pissed. He swore he’d try to make things right, but I asked him not to. She hadn’t made eye contact or spoken any friendly words since Sam - no, since WE - had Cas and Rowena check her.

Sam was right; I didn’t deserve her. And I was heartbroken at her distance, her change in demeanor. I knew she was deeply hurt. As pissed as I was at Sam, I was even more so at myself. I did nothing to stand up for or defend her against the tests. I was just as guilty.

She would never have said anything. I never would have known had we not drugged her. I wanted to be mad about that, too, and was to a degree. Was this all some test, or were Sam and I destined to destroy everyone who crosses our path and dares to care about us?

The point may be to fight. But if I really wanted it, why wasn’t I trying harder?

I overheard the two of them in the kitchen the other night. However, it was mostly Sam, as she still didn’t seem to be in a chatty mood. I knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, and maybe I should have let them know I was there, but curiosity got the better of me.

Just like with me, he was apologizing to her. But he was also practically BEGGING her to give me another chance. He swore he was on board and supported it - hell, he was full-on dreaming for it to happen now. She thanked him for his apology and said no more.

I didn’t know what to do. But I knew Sam was okay with us, and I wanted to find out what ‘us’ even looked like.

-

Y/N POV

Sam had been giving me whiplash. One day, he was utterly suspicious of me, then he ignored me, and now he’s practically begging me to give Dean a chance—as if I’d been the one rejecting him. I didn’t know what to do.

While I was glad they’d both apologized, I was still hurt. I tried my best to see things from their side: how this might all seem a rational way to go about things or why they were so paranoid. But my pain and embarrassment kept me quiet, just trying to make it day by day while focusing on business as usual. Maybe we’d all move on and put this whole thing behind us.

Until then, I had to do my best to maintain a sense of routine in the Bunker for their sakes. And I wasn’t going to hide away in my room moping either.

This is how I found myself in the library, reading a book as Sam sat on the opposite side with his laptop. I didn’t know if he was researching or looking for a case, but I did know I was pretty irritated that, with many other tables and chairs, he chose to sit across from me.

I tried to focus on the book but scanned the words more than I read them. I was aware of Sam constantly looking at me as if he had something to say before hastily looking back at his screen. I pretended not to notice until I stiffened at the sound of Dean’s approach.

I wanted to run and hide every time he entered the room, afraid he’d catch my longing looks or hear how fast my heart beat when he passed close enough to touch and smell. I could still feel his kiss and the warmth of his hand on my cheek as he held me sweetly. I tried to control it, but now that he knew, I felt so exposed, as if he could sense my every thought. It was a bit unnerving.

I tried to focus on my book as Dean concentrated on his brother, who leaned back in his chair to give him his attention.

“Garth needs backup on a hunt,” Dean announced, and I relaxed, knowing they’d likely leave soon.

“Okay,” Sam stood from his chair, gathering his laptop. “Meet at the car in ten?”

Sam began walking away before Dean’s voice made him stop.

“Uh, actually,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck and smirked at his brother. “You and Garth should be able to handle it. Baby needs some maintenance anyway.”

Sam - to his credit and that annoying silent communication of theirs - paused only a moment before seeming to decide.

“Yeah, okay,” he responded quickly and eagerly, making me look at him directly.

He flashed me a smile before continuing his retreat from the room. The quiet, along with being alone with Dean, was sending my anxiety through the roof. He turned to face me, and - Lord, help me - I couldn’t even pretend to care about the book as our eyes met for the first time in what felt like ages.

“So,” he grinned as he slid into the seat Sam had just vacated, refusing to break the locked gaze. “Are you hungry? We could order pizza or go to a place in town or something.”

Okay, so he was waving a white flag. I could get behind that, and I was definitely hungry.

-

Dean POV

“You hungry? We could order pizza or go to a place in town or something?”

She relaxed, but I could see she was still apprehensive. I hated this awkward silence and distance, which hung like a dark cloud over everything. She had confessed her love, both with the serum and without. She spoke about our potential lives, which left me craving. But I hadn’t done much to show my want, to fight for it like she had done.

When Garth called about a case, I saw an opportunity. I would put on my A-game and fight for this, for us.

“Uh, okay. Yeah, sure,” she forced a smile, but I met it with a genuine one.

“Great,” I answered, standing from my seat and gesturing for her to follow. I was only slightly surprised that she did.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Whatever you want is fine.”

Whatever I want? I grinned and fought back the chuckle as she followed me to Baby in the garage.

“I thought Baby needed work?”

I did laugh then as we settled in the front seat of my car.

“Yeah, I sort of wanted an excuse to be alone with you.”

“Oh.”

She blushed and bashfully looked away. I bit my lip and started the car, driving us into town. If she didn’t care where we went, I knew a place on the edge of town with great burgers, cheap beer, good music, and pool tables. I’d be in my element and could pull my best moves. I was intent on wooing her, and this was usually how I succeeded with others. 

She was not anything like the others at all. She was so much more, from her looks to her body to her mind and heart. As we parked outside the roadhouse, I wondered if this place was the best idea.

Her soft smile was encouraging. As we went inside, my hand hovered over her lower back, guiding her through the crowd to an empty table in the middle of the room. It allowed me to watch everything, and I felt even more on guard than usual with her there.

I watched tentatively as she sat across from me, her eyes scanning the surroundings before landing back on me with a shy smile.

“I hope this is okay. We can go somewhere else if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No, this is great!”

She seemed genuinely happy to be there, and I relaxed. The waitress came and took our orders, and I was pleased to hear Y/N talk more than she had been recently. I guess now was a good time to speak with her about what’s been on my mind.

“Look, Y/N…I want you to know that I am so damn sorry.”

She met my eyes then, and I swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry for everything that happened, that I let happen. We shouldn’t have pried. I’m so sorry you got hurt and exposed and that I didn’t stand up for you.”

She dropped her gaze to the table, tensing up again, and it felt like that beautiful door of opportunity was closing. I needed her to interact with me. Anything was better than the distance and empty pleasantries. At this point, I didn’t care if she flirted or screamed at me.

The waitress returned our order, and I thanked her. Y/N was focused on her food.

“I’m not sorry that I know. In fact, I’m a little pissed you were never gonna tell me.”

I took a bite from my burger and was waiting for her reaction. She stared at me with narrowed eyes before clearing her throat.

“What, I’m just supposed to come out and say it? Even though there was barely a friendship between us?”

She scoffed and returned to eating. But I was frozen, caught up in her choice of words.

“What do you mean ‘was’?”

Had she given up? Has she decided we weren’t worth it? That I wasn’t worth it?

-

Y/N POV

“What do you mean ‘was’?”

The pain in his tone made my heart clench. I didn’t mean to imply we weren’t anymore, but it didn’t feel like we were.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

He accepted it, and we ate in comfortable silence. When the waitress returned to clear the table, Dean settled the bill but asked to start a tab for drinks. When a whiskey shot was set before me, I clanked with Dean’s and knocked it back, taking it for the peace offering it was.

“Thank you for apologizing. I can understand why you two felt you needed to do those things. I just wish you would’ve asked.”

“So if Sam asked how you felt about me, without the serum, what would you have said?”

“I would have said I respect and admire you.”

“But not that you love me? Why?”

I had a feeling he’d ask that at some point. I huffed a breath and chewed my lip as I chose my words.

“Because I’m not worthy. If I never say anything, I never have to face your rejection, which would hurt, and it’d hurt you to see me hurt ‘cause you just care that much.”

I guess I didn’t need a serum. The big secret was out, and I told Dean all about our fantasy lives. At least if I kept truthing, I’d know if he truly accepted me.

“But I didn’t reject you, Y/N.”

I met Dean’s eyes, seeing how open he was, letting me see his truth. The intensity I found there made me gasp a little.

“I did hurt you, and seeing that hurt me,” he continued. Reaching across the table, he held one of my hands. “But I didn’t reject you. In fact,” his grip tightened, and a flirty smirk adorned his luscious lips. “I can’t stop thinking about you. About our future. About that damn kiss.” He laughed, and I nodded my agreement because I felt the same.

“Hey folks, can I get you another round?”

The waitress returned, and I jumped. Dean held my hand, which was firm but gentle, and smiled at her.

“Yes, please. Two shots, two beers. Thanks,” he said, placing a nice tip on her tray, and she left with a smile. It always warmed me how he could be so charming, even without a trace of flirting. His keeping ahold of my hand sent my heart into a frenzy. Maybe I wasn’t reading enough into all of this, which had me chuckling aloud just as our next round arrived.

“What should we drink to?” Dean asked as we held our shots.

I put on my best flirty smirk and clinked my glass with his.

“To second chances?” I suggested, hoping he’d pick up and accept my insinuations.

“I’ll drink to that!”

We threw back our shots and spent moments looking at each other and smiling.

-

Dean POV

It felt almost like making a deal, but one I’d gladly make again and again. I’d never experienced this feeling. It was as if I was embarking on an exciting adventure, eager to learn everything about this person and savor and enjoy every morsel of her being that she was willing to feed me.

I did my best to shut out the dark voice in my mind, telling me it couldn’t last. Either I’ll fuck it up, or she’ll leave, or - God forbid - she dies. That tiny black hole within me was itching to devour all the happiness around me.

But in her presence, it grew quieter and easier to manage. Even before her confessions, I witnessed how kind and caring she was, her compassion providing comfort. She was nurturing, even in the way I imagined a loving mother would be. I don’t remember. But she was like soft candlelight shining amidst the pitch black within my mind.

“How about a game of pool?” I suggested, seeing some open tables. I could show off a little and maybe get a chance to get close to help her line up a shot.

“Okay,” she agreed, taking my hand when I offered it.

I was reluctant to let her go, but I had to set up a game. Basic eight-ball was fine with me and didn’t take much thought.

“I know how to play, but I’m not very good,” she admitted. I bit my lip to contain my excitement about helping her.

“No worries. It's just a fun game. No pressure. But I could show you some things if you want.”

“Eager to bend me over the table, huh?” She laughed, and I was initially shocked. But if she was ready to ‘play,’ then game on, Babygirl.

As we started the game, she was focused, analyzing angles and trying her best. I, however, was focused on her. The way she moved, thought, and bent like a dancer to take her shots, Her whole body was lithe and curvy, stretching like a cat. I noticed, too, that she was ambidextrous. With some practice and pointers, she’d be outstanding. She had a natural skill but wasn’t used to playing.

I went back to admiring her as her plump ass was on display as she bent for a shot and missed. The pout that followed made me want to kiss it away. She was effortlessly sexy, and she had no fucking clue.

“You ready to head back?” I asked after finishing a game. I was ready to be alone with her again, if only to kiss her senseless.

“Sure,” she grinned, placing her hand in mine before I could reach for her.

I grinned like a fool as I paid our tab and led her outside. But we were stopped by a storm, with rain falling thick and fast.

“Race you to the car?” she grinned before dashing into the downpour to the Impala at the back corner of the lot. She was crazy but beautiful.

Grinning again, I ran into the rain to take her hand as we ran to the car together, laughing the whole way.

-

Y/N POV

I dashed out into the rain, feeling giddy and playful. I was high on the night I was having. I had been entirely aware of Dean’s eyes on me - and quite a few other’s eyes - but I tried not to think about it and just be normal.

With my spirits high and being a bit drunk, I felt brave.

“Race you to the car?”

I took off, half expecting him to chastise me. But when he took my hand and ran with me, laughing the whole way, my heart soared. I felt free, alive, and blessed to share it with Dean, the man I loved.

Dean released my hand to get his keys and open the door as we got to the car. I was mesmerized by watching his hand and fingers work, wet from the rain.

“Get in,” he gestured, and I quickly moved, sliding across the bench to the passenger’s side.

“We’re gonna have to wait ‘til it calms down a little. I can’t see much in this.”

I didn’t think about that when running through the downpour. Dean turned on the car only to turn on the heat, and the radio was low on some classic rock station. I couldn’t help but look at him and admire how handsome he was and how that was accentuated by being drenched. It was giving me wicked thoughts, and with my inhibitions lowered, I knew I wasn’t hiding it well.

I shamelessly ogled him as he shed his jacket and overshirt, leaving him in a t-shirt. He tossed the wet clothes in the backseat before looking at me to find me attentively watching his every move. His eyes trailed slowly down my body and back up again. My breathing picked up as my heart raced. He licked his lower lip into his mouth and released it. I think I moaned a little.

“Y/N.”

Dean broke the silence, the rain still pounding hard outside. We leaned towards each other, and his hand cupped my cheek as our lips met. It was just as good as before, though I wondered if I’d imagined it.

His tongue ran gently across my lip, and I felt a flutter between my legs. I opened for him and melted as his tongue met mine. I let him lead, knowing he was used to this, but I hadn’t been with anyone in a while and hadn’t made a habit of hooking up or even taking chances. I was worried I might be out of practice, but I felt encouraged by his sounds and actions.

He pulled back, ending the kiss far too soon for my liking, and I may have whined a little. He chuckled, and I pouted. He leaned in with a groan, sucking my lower lip before kissing me soundly.

I felt like I was in trouble, but in a very sexy way. It was a little confusing. But I was quickly sobering as I realized where this was heading. At least, I hoped.

-

Dean POV

Goddamn, this woman would surely kill me - but what a way to go. I was ready to make her mine here and now, and I was almost sure she’d let me. But she deserved better than that. As sappy as it may be, I wanted our first time together in a bed - specifically MY bed - so I could take my time and make it memorable. Special.

If things go the way I hope, it will be our last first time. I had more than a good feeling about this, and I was ready to do whatever was necessary to have her in my life.

How did I get so damn lucky, so fortunate to have this woman in love with me?

The rain was still coming down, but it had lessened enough that I was confident in getting us home safely. And I NEEDED her home, even if it was only to make out all night.

“Let me get you home,” I whispered, stealing another kiss.

“Well, you’ll have to stop kissing me to do that.”

I kissed her again, and she chuckled as I began to drive. I wanted her closer, tucked into my side, but I knew I needed to focus on the road. The sooner I got her home, the sooner I could touch and kiss her again.

I somehow managed to pull safely into the Bunker’s garage despite Y/N’s gaze devouring me the whole ride. As my cock swelled painfully against my zipper, I prayed to God we were on the same page. I’d be fine if she wasn’t ready. But I was about to burst at just the thought of her.

As soon as I parked the car, I turned to her. She grinned and leaned in to kiss me again. I grabbed at her, holding her close to me as I poured myself into the kiss, letting her taste my desire. 

She straddled my lap with little encouragement, and I wrapped my arms around her to press our bodies together, our hungry kisses unbroken. I grabbed a handful of her hair and gently tugged her head back as my kisses moved along her jaw. When I reached behind her ear, I gave a little kitten lick. Her body jerked and ground against my lap, making me hiss as the zipper pressed against my painfully hard cock.

-

Y/N POV

I could feel how hard he was, his hands as hungry as his mouth. I felt bold knowing there was no rejection waiting, only want. I pulled from the kiss and held his face in my hands.

“Dean, take me to bed?”

I was practically sober now, and so was he. I looked him in the eye, letting him know I meant it.

“Are you sure?” He asked, which surprised me. “I don’t want to rush you or make you feel like I expect anything. If you’re not ready, that’s okay. I can wait. You’re worth waiting for.”

I felt like I would cry, but the patience and understanding he exhibited made me even more sure. I kissed him slow and deep, pulling back to meet his eyes again.

“Take me to bed, Dean.” I realized how that might sound, even if my tone was soft. “Please.”

That seemed to spur him to action. As he devoured my mouth again, I filed it as a note for later. He set me back on the seat and climbed out of the car, offering his hand, which I accepted.

He smoothly pulled me from the car, closed the door, and pressed me against it in what felt like one move. The desire and hunger I saw in his eyes were almost intimidating. He kissed me senseless, his hands on my hips as he pressed his weight into me. He was so strong and capable that it only turned me on more.

“Your room or mine?” I asked, feeling confident enough to be sultry.

“Oh, Baby,” he grinned, unable to go long without kissing me. “I want you in my bed so bad.”

I chuckled and nodded, letting him lead me through the halls to his room.  Once the door shut, he pressed me against it like in the garage. I could hardly believe this was happening, but I was so damn eager for it. His hands pushed my shirt up, and I let him remove it. He made quick work of my bra, and the cool air had my nipples hardening. He dove in with a hum, taking a nipple in his mouth and flicking with his tongue. My knees buckled, and I was grateful for his firm grip on my hips.

He moved to my other nipple and repeated his actions, ripping a loud moan from me as my hips bucked in his hold.

“You’re so sensitive and responsive,” he praised as he removed his t-shirt.

-

Dean POV

She was so beautiful, and her sounds were the sweetest music. She was so desperate and needy, her body reaching into my every touch, even if she wasn’t fully aware.

I felt frenzied, eager to take, feel, and claim. I had to force myself to calm down. I wanted to savor this, to drag it out, and make it as good as possible for both of us.

I reluctantly pulled back, just enough to kick off my shoes and remove the rest of my clothes. She looked at me with pure lust, panting as she mimicked my actions. My hands rushed as she became revealed to me.

As soon as we were both bare, she was pressed against me, seeking another kiss, which I was too happy to provide. Our hands were gentle and cautious as we explored every line, curve, and dip of each other, our lips and tongues dancing together. While I was no doubt aroused - my cock throbbing and pinned between us - her warmth and softness calmed me in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

I started walking backward, bringing her with me. I sat on the edge of the bed, intent on pulling her into my lap, wanting her close, but she seemed to have other ideas.

She slowly lowered to her knees, cupping my cheek with one hand, the other wrapping around my cock as she kissed me passionately, more dirty than any other before. She stroked me firm but slow, and when she ran her thumb over the head, I moaned into her mouth.

She pulled back with a grin and gently pushed me back with a hand on my chest until I was propped on my elbows, unwilling to take my eyes off her. She seemed just as intent as me to slow down, drag it out, as she kissed and locked along my lower stomach and hips, nipping lightly here and there, making me jump and groan.

“Not the only one sensitive and responsive,” she teased back at me, nosing along the crease of my thigh, turning her head to nip at the tender inner flesh of my thigh.

“Y/N!”

It was half shock, half desperate arousal. She was driving me insane. She gave in, licking from the base of my cock to the head, tonguing around the rim. My head dropped back, and that was the moment she took me in her warm, wet mouth with a tight suction that already had me embarrassingly close to coming.

She pulled off to tease me some more, and I seized the opportunity, sitting up and swiftly pulling her to straddle my lap. Before she could catch her breath, I turned and lifted her, smoothly laying her back on the bed, her legs wrapped around me, holding me close.

She gasped and laughed, making me chuckle along with her. God, this was a beautiful moment.

“I’ve never been manhandled like that. Surprised me,” she admitted shyly.

I laughed again and kissed her soundly.

“A night of firsts then,” I teased, kissing her deep and rutting my aching cock through her surprisingly damp folds. I was happy to know she was just as aroused as me.

As we drowned in kissing, I trailed my hand down her body and between her legs. I ran a finger over her clit before circling her entrance and sliding inside.

“So damn wet already,” I spoke against her lips, eager to swallow down her moans. “Bet I could just slide right in.”

Fuck, I couldn’t help myself. I wasn’t thinking, only feeling as I adjusted my hips, grabbing my cock and sliding inside her. She was so tight and warm, and I could feel how deep I was. I had to stay still and catch my breath, or it’d all be over too soon. She was trembling around me, and I just wanted to make her come over and over.

-

Y/N POV

Dean was inside me, buried deep and nestled against my cervix. It was delicious, and I was hyper-aware of our every connection: our underbelly brushing, his hips against my inner thighs, chest-to-chest, and panted breaths shared from barely grazing mouths.

He pulled back slowly and slid in again, smooth and gentle. I felt like my heart would explode or I might burst into tears. He increased his speed only a little, kissing along my neck and chest. I marveled at feeling him, so long and thick and impossibly hard, fucking into me gently but with purpose.

Then, my rational mind began to speak up, reminding me he was bare inside me. I clenched and moaned, fighting back my breeding kink.

“Dean, wait,” I pushed gently at his shoulders, and he went still.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I promised, pecking his lips to reassure him. “But we need a condom. I’m not on birth control.”

He seemed to pause and think before nodding and slowly pulling out. As he moved from the bed to retrieve a condom, I wondered if I’d upset him. He sheathed himself and crawled back on the bed, and I opened my legs to welcome him. But he didn’t go for it right away.

His hand slid along my thigh, up my side, and cupped my cheek, his eyes searching mine.

“What had you clenching and moaning so hard?”

I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I also knew he was intelligent and experienced and had probably figured it out.

“My…my breeding kink.”

I mumbled the words in embarrassment but felt compelled to be honest. His pupils dilated, and he captured my lips hungrily as he slid within me again, with no hesitation and no resistance. He was so thick I could still feel every bit of him through the condom, his girth stretching me deliciously, making me wriggle my hips impatiently.

-

Dean POV

Fuck, hearing her say the words ‘breeding kink’ might have been the sexiest thing I ever heard. That’s something I’d be chewing on for a while.

I slid back inside her, and she let a sigh. I felt relief at being connected again, too. I could still feel her walls squeezing around me, but I wished I could feel her bare again. The primal side of me awakened, wanting to make her mine and breed her full.

Instead, I focused on her face and her reactions as I moved. I kept our bodies close, nearly all of us touching, which was way more intimate than I was used to. It only added to the many moments that made this an extraordinary connection. I had to remind myself it was only the start, the first time of what I hoped to be countless others.

As I picked up my pace, I could tell she was getting close. My thumb found her clit, and I rubbed tight circles in time with my thrusts. Her breathing sped up, and I could tell she was holding back.

“Wanna feel you come,” I told her, leaning in to kiss her ear and whispering as I kept moving within her. “Imagine me bare inside you, ready to fuck you full.”

I felt her clench hard before she moaned out her release, her hands digging into my ass as she held me deep. I did my best to grind against her and ride out her high. She was fucking gorgeous, and I was nowhere near done with her.

In another practiced move, I rolled to my back, taking her with me, my cock never leaving her tight and drenched pussy. Still coming down from her high, she kissed me sloppy before sitting up straight. My cock slid deeper, and we moaned together as I held her hips and encouraged her to ride me.

-

Y/N POV

My head was light, my body tingling from the incredible orgasm. I usually stopped at one, but the feel of Dean was too good to give up. He wanted more from me, and I wanted to give it.

I sat up straight, my hands on his abs for leverage. He was so deep it was almost too much. When I began to move my hips, I was intent on giving as good as I got. But it was so incredible it quickly became about me: what I wanted to feel and how. Luckily, he was enjoying it just fine.

I was about to lean down and kiss him, but he sat up, wrapping his arms around me. I held his gaze as I rode him, slowly and intentionally clenching my walls to massage his shaft.

He snarled and kissed me hard, his thumb rubbing my clit again. I was surprised how quickly my second orgasm was creeping up on me, but I was hungry for it, and so was he.

“Dean!”

I couldn’t help but shout for him - at him - I wasn’t sure. A second later, I was coming, riding him hard through my high as he focused his attention on my breasts.

God, I was drained and sweaty, barely able to catch my breath, my body spasaming and pussy throbbing. I didn’t even notice he’d sat forward, laying me back on the bed, still hard and inside me as he lavished my breasts and nipples with teeth and tongue.

I knew he hadn’t come yet and was starting to get concerned. Maybe I couldn’t keep up with him? Maybe it wasn’t as good for him? I thought it was the best I’d ever had, but he was more experienced. But I couldn’t get my brain to form words.

I ran my hands through his hair and over his back, and he hummed at the touch. I wiggled my hips, reminding us both that he hadn’t come yet and was hard as a rock.

“Dean?” I urged him from my chest and met his eyes. “Wanna feel you come.”

I wiggled my hips again as much as I could in this position: my ass on his lap and back lightly bowed.

“M’close,” he spoke against my lips. “How do you want it?”

God, that was so sexy. But I was determined to make this good for him, too.

“Whatever you want. Anything!”

-

Dean POV

She felt so goddamn good. I wasn’t sure how I’d been able to hold back coming all this time. I wanted to make her feel good, but I also wanted to impress and show her that I could care for her. More importantly, I wanted to show her that I wanted her.

As she floated down from her high, I took the time to worship her, licking the sweat from her skin and riling her up for more.

“Dean?”

Her soft voice calling my name so sweetly had me pausing to look at her.

“Wanna feel you come.”

My cock twitched, more than ready, but I fought to hold back, desperate to please.

“M’close,” I admitted, pecking her lips. “How do you want it?”

She moaned, her legs widening, making me sink a little deeper.

“Whatever you want. Anything!”

“So fucking perfect.”

I couldn’t help but praise her and was pleased when she swooned. I grinned and kissed her again, the feel of it already becoming second nature. I ran my hands up her arms and pulled her hands above her head, urging her to grab onto the edge of the mattress.

We smiled warmly at each other as I sat back on my heels, draping her legs over my arms as I gripped her hips. Her back was arched, legs wide.

I pulled back and swiftly thrust back inside, starting a brutal pace that rocked her body and had her screaming. She gripped the bed tight as I let go, fucking her like I wanted to. I was sure it was equal parts pain and pleasure, but she took every inch of me again and again.

She was chanting my name over and over, her pussy spasming wildly around my cock. I was going to come any second, but I needed to feel her one more time. To have her pull me over the edge with her.

I held her tight, sure there’d be bruises I’d kiss later, giving her all I had. She screamed even louder before her pussy fluttered and gushed all over me.

I lost it, falling forward and groaning as I came hard, the condom swelling with my seed. I huffed hard, my head falling into the crook of her neck. I couldn’t have imagined our first time together being any better than what we shared.

I tried to make myself move, worried I was crushing her. But she wrapped her arms around me and shook her head.

“No. Don’t move. Please.”

I laughed and dropped my head back to her neck. I was good with that.

-

Y/N POV

Fuck, I couldn’t move. Dean tried, but my oversensitive body couldn’t handle it, so I begged him to stay still. He seemed content to remain there for the time being.

“That was hands down the best sex I’ve ever had.” I chuckled at my honesty and still quite cum-drunk.

“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing my neck and pulling out. “You squirted.”

“I did?!” I had to lift my head and look, a big, wet mess all over us, the sheets beneath me wet. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know I could do that.”

“Fuck, don’t apologize.” He tossed the condom and grabbed a towel to clean us up. I sighed and lay there, letting him. “It was so fucking hot, Baby.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, tossing the towel and moving us under the blankets. I went willingly, completely spent.

“Sleep?” I asked, desperately needing to recover.

“Sleep,” he agreed, pecking my lips before moving to spoon me, his arms wrapped around me securely.

-

When I woke later, I smelled coffee and gentle kisses on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and propped on my elbows, having shifted to my stomach at some point.

Dean was right there beside me, his smile warm. My heart melted all over again.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased with a chuckle. He shifted to sit back against the headboard, sipping at a mug.

“Hey.”

I forced myself to sit up, adjusting the blankets to cover myself as I leaned next to him, noticing he was shirtless, but the bedding covered his lap.

He handed me the mug, and I smiled bashfully as I drank the warm and delicious coffee inside. I returned it, and he set it on the nightstand, turning his attention back on me.

He grinned, leaning in and cupping my cheek as he kissed me sweetly. His hand trailed down my neck to my chest before thumbing at my nipple. The kiss turned heated in an instant as he made his intentions known.

He pulled back the covers, and I let him, though I whined that he pulled his lips away, too. He was just as naked as me and half-hard. But as his shoulders settled between my thighs, my mind went blank, simply eager for what he was about to do.

-

Dean POV

When I woke, I had to wipe drool from my chin after the incredible dream I had of feasting on Y/N’s sweet cunt. I sat up and wiped the sleep from my face before noticing Y/N was asleep beside me.

She was on her stomach, her hair a wild mess, her mouth hung open as she breathed heavy and deep. Remembering what happened earlier, a grin spread on my face as I realized it wasn’t all part of my dreams. I leaned down and gently kissed her shoulder, but she didn’t move.

I decided to rush to the bathroom and grab some coffee, trying to hurry because I wanted to be there when she woke up. Ideally, I could wake her sweetly, and then maybe she’d let me eat her out because that part was a dream, and I was aiming to rectify that for both of us.

I climbed back in bed, not having bothered with clothes since we were alone in the Bunker, at least for now. I set the cup aside and kissed her shoulder and back again. Featherlight and worshipful, I brought her to wakefulness.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” I greeted as her eyes opened.

I sat back, sipping coffee. She sat up next to me with a soft greeting and accepted the mug when offered. She had moved the blankets to keep herself covered, but I could see over her neck and chest where I’d marked her good. I hadn’t meant to; I didn’t even realize I was doing it. But seeing them in different shades and sizes only turned me on.

She returned the cup to me, and I mindlessly put it on the nightstand. I kissed her, eager to show how happy I was, to reinforce that it was real and reciprocated.

Pulling the covers back to expose us, I thumbed at her nipples, finding them already hard. I ignored the throbbing of my cock, and I lowered myself between her thighs. She was already a little wet, and I was desperate to have her slick coat my tongue. I wasted no time as I dove in, making out with her pussy, tasting every bit of her, mapping and testing her creases and folds.

Her hands ran through my hair, and her thighs clamped around my head. Her moans and pleas had me impossibly hard. I rutted against the bed as I slid two fingers inside her, sucking her clit hard between my lips. Her voice hitched, and her body tensed, so I doubled my efforts. She shattered, and I removed my fingers to delve my tongue deep inside, gulping down her release and savoring her tangy flavor.

I came onto the sheets with a muffled grunt as I wrung every ounce of her orgasm from her. When she relaxed with a sigh, I kissed up her body, elated and aroused as she kissed me deep and sucked at my tongue.

I pulled back to look at her - at this incredible woman who loved me and was willing to give herself to me. She ran her hand from my brow to my jaw, her eyes following the touch, a soft smile on her lips as she met my eyes. It felt incredibly intimate, and I laid my head on her chest, my body pressing into her. I was hiding from the onslaught of emotions she was creating inside me.

Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, and one hand moved to run her nails over my scalp softly. I sighed and relaxed, taking the much-needed comfort she offered.

This was the part I always missed out on. It's always awkward mornings or quick goodbyes. With Y/N, I could stay, linger, and accept the peace and comfort I was always denied. I may have dozed off lying on her, but she never moved, her hands and nails soothing and relaxing me. 

God, I hoped it would always be like this. To be safe and loved in someone’s arms.

FOREVERS:

@lyarr24

@hobby27

@kazsrm67

@maliburenee

@440mxs-wife

@writercole

@spnbaby-67

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@leigh70

@laycblack

DEAN WINCHESTER:

@slamminmine

@deandreamernp

@awkward-and-indecisive

@akshi8278

@mimaria420

[the-peak-tmnt]

Hey The Neon Void readers, quick update from the author's sister!

(art commission by @kaysdenofchaos)

Hi readers of The Neon Void fanfic. This is the author’s older sister. She’s been getting a lot of fan art and asks lately. She’s sent me screenshots of a few unanswered ones looking for advice on how to respond.

While all the love and support of TNV is genuinely appreciated, my sister @sugarpasteltmnt is not equipped to respond to a small handful of these asks/comments that are, quite frankly, inappropriate.

Sugarpastels is not a therapist, and she’s certainly not an internet stranger’s therapist.

She’s an adult with an extremely demanding and stressful job for a very large client. Some of you have already experienced and enjoyed her work IRL without knowing it. Her company is close to finishing another project that will bring a lot of joy to hundreds of thousands of people every year, but working on a project of that scale is extremely stressful.

She is writing this fanfic for fun. TNV is a way for her to decompress and put her creative energy towards something other than work.

What’s not fun is coming home to asks/comments from readers who are projecting their own struggles/mental health onto TNV, and even Sugarpastels herself, and demanding some sort of attention from her over it.

Let’s be real: it’s fun to watch our blorbos suffer! So much of fandom is just us putting our favorite characters in Situations because it’s fun. Simple as that. But I think another reason TNV has resonated so strongly with readers is because of the way Sugarpastels writes the internal struggles of these characters.

We are both aware that TNV deals with mental health topics. Since the early days of “modern” fandom, fanfiction has been a way for people to explore complicated, difficult and sometimes even taboo subjects. There’s no shortage of complex feelings being explored in TNV, which is why we’re all having so much fun reading it.

But that’s all it is; an exploration. Sugarpastels is not a mental health expert. I’ve read a handful of books on PTSD and mindfulness for research while writing my own fanfic, and I would never consider myself prepared to help someone else.

It’s okay if you relate to things from TNV. I know I do! Again, fanfic has always been a way to read about things rarely dealt with (or handled poorly) in published fiction/tv shows/movies. I will always argue one of the greatest things about fanfiction and other fanworks is being able to see ourselves and our own struggles through our favorite fictional characters.

But Sugarpastels is not a fictional character. She’s a real person. Most importantly (to me at least) she’s my little sister, and this big sister cannot handle watching some of her readers expect more of her than is appropriate.

So I’m asking you to please be mindful of what you ask/say to not just her, but literally everyone on the internet. Unless you’re chatting with someone regularly, they do not know you. Whether it’s friends, family, teachers, coaches, etc, there are people in your life who know you personally, and are therefore better equipped to help you than a stranger on the internet.

Sugarpastels is so full of empathy that it’s hard to not feel for you when you send things like this. But it just isn’t fair to put that kind of unnecessary pressure on someone who is, at the end of the day, just trying to have some fun writing about ninja turtles bein’ sad.

(That being said, PLEASE DON’T BE SCARED TO SEND HER ASKS AND FAN ART!!! They make her day every single time and are seriously so, so appreciated. She’s texting me about it constantly how much she loves all of TNV’s readers. This whole post is really directed at an extremely small percentage of her readers, but there have been enough I felt something needed to be said.)

[sapphiresaphics]

I think what bothers me the most about a lot of the arcane criticism is how anti-creative it ends up being. Even well meaning criticisms such as “it needed another season” or “we needed one more episode for things to cook properly” come across to me as really defeatist.

Arcane is one of the most ambitious animated projects in recent memory. It’s one of the most expensive animated TV shows ever produced. It took over 6 years just to get a first season into production. It features a massive amount of talent from all over the industry from voice actors, to animators, to music producers and writers. Its narrative is challenging and complex but easily digestible and gorgeous to watch. There are tons of hidden details, a world that is fleshed out to an absurd degree, and fan service for longtime gamers. Its characters are morally grey and complicated, and the debates around said characters continues long after the show ended.

In this day and age of recycled copy/pasted mediocre products shoved down our throats to say Arcane was ambitious is an understatement. By all accounts… this should have FAILED.

But it didn’t. It’s a MASTERCLASS of filmmaking and storytelling. Nearly every episode is highly rated and ranked. It’s one of the highest received and watched shows on Netflix.

So when I see people say “it didn’t quite stick to landing” or say “it tried to do too much,” I just feel… exhausted.

What MORE do you people want? How much more perfection can they force into a product like this? If the creatives tried THIS HARD and spent THAT MUCH to make a product THIS BELOVED… and you’re STILL not satisfied… what are we even doing anymore? And by extension… what’s that mentality say to all of us smaller independent creators who just want to make stuff?

Some people are spurned by criticism to strive to do better. But in my experience that is a rare breed and more often than not when you give something your all and are received with disappointment you end up internalizing that disappointment and not doing the thing anymore.

Is it not better that the creatives tried and were ambitious and that their ambitions didn’t quite make it all the way but they still made a quality product that is more than just a sum of its parts, than if they just didn’t bother trying at all? Isn’t it better that we try and come up short than to never try? Isn’t it better they still managed to make a successful show that millions of people love, than to make a dumpster fire that alienated people and killed the franchise?

I’m not saying you can’t criticize the show. Every work of media deserves some level of criticism. But I just feel like the HEIGHTS that this show reaches for are SO HIGH that it almost feels greedy and entitled to try and bring it down to the levels of the SLOP we get from Disney or Marvel or DC every few years.

When is see intense hatred and criticism lobbied at Arcane I just feel like “why bother trying?” Why bother trying to do anything innovate or wild or creative and ambitious if it’s going to be met with such unrelenting hatred and stupidity. Why should I subject myself to that level of scrutiny and rejection?

If arcane is a master class made by some of the most talented people on the planet and it’s STILL not good enough… then what hope do I have?

Why should I even try?

[cerusee]

I've never watched any Chinese dramas but I really enjoy your posts/gifs about them and it's got me interested in trying some! Do you have any recommendations for somebody who's totally new to them? Any tropes/background context I should be aware of? The historical/fantastical ones seem the most appealing to me.

Oooooh! My first thought on reading this ask was, “oh, I’m hardly qualified”; I’m only on my *stops to count on fingers* eighth cdrama, not counting the one episode I watched of the Wang Zhuocheng xianxia where he falls in love with a rock. (Long story.) There’s a lot of cdramas out there, and I myself have not even scratched the surface of what’s out there! That said, if you’re interested in historical/fantastical dramas, those ARE the ones I’ve been watching, so I still have some opinions despite being a total noob myself.

Do not start with The Untamed/Chen Qing Ling. Twas my first cdrama, like a lot of western fans, who were drawn to it in part because of the big censored-but-still-very-evident gay love story between the male leads, but honestly, as much fun as it is for the slash fans, it’s not a great jumping off point for either Chinese television in general, or even for its own wuxia-inspired genre setting. I say this as some who is still deep in the fandom four years later, and has immense love for the show: the first two episodes are flat-out bad, the overall pacing is bad (episodes frequently stop MIDSCENE), the worldbuilding is thin (a carryover from the novel it was based on), and without a larger context for why it’s made the way it’s made (stylistic choices, industry conventions, government censorship, genre conventions) a lot about it is confusing as hell to cdrama newbies, which is…so evident…a lot…in fandom wank I mean in the discourse about what story this story is trying to tell. Like, if you came to me and asked specifically, “I’m thinking of watching CQL. Should I watch CQL?” I would say yes, absolutely! It’s so much fun! I’m obsessed with the characters! I’ve written a lot of fanfic about the purple guy! But it’s not a good first cdrama, nor it is the best example of what the Chinese TV industry has to offer.

A MUCH better first cdrama especially if you like the historical/fantastical: The Legend of the Condor Heroes (2017), which not coincidentally was my second cdrama. It’s one of about a dozen television adaptations of the classic 1957 Chinese novel of the same name by Jin Yong, generally considered to be the inventor of the genre known as wuxia, which is a blend of history, fantasy, and martial arts. (One of the most well-known examples of wuxia in the west is Ang Lee’s Oscar-winning 2000 film Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, which you have probably at least heard of.)

Legend of the Condor Heroes (hereafter known as LOCH) has it all: romance, revenge, evil plots and daring deeds, people jumping off a burning mountain and being rescued by the worst CGIed eagles known to television or cinema, boat adventures, mountain adventures, grasslands adventures, a weird cult leader who lives on a spooky flower island (there will be math), murder, baby kidnapping, more murder, one guy inadvertently racking up a ridiculous number of martial arts teachers, sworn brotherhoods which invariably end with one guy stabbing the other, lots of VERY good martial arts fights, and, of course, Genghis Khan. Technically there are no magic/supernatural elements in this show—no ghosts, ghouls, magic, angels, devils, gods, etc—although the martial artists do have l33t skillz that might qualify as superhuman depending on how you slice your genre conventions, and are awfully fun to watch.

I’ve actually seen two LOCH adaptations (there was one in 2024 I liked a lot, with my favorite Guo Jing so far), but 2017 is a much better adaptation for newcomers as it tells a fuller version of the story and doesn’t skimp on or rush through or rewrite as many elements of the plot as other versions do; it’s meant to be a LOCH for people who haven’t seen half a dozen versions of LOCH already. It has a WONDERFUL cast, including my one of my favorite cdrama leading men, Chen Xingxu,* as the lead antagonist, Yang Kang, who is a trash fire of a person you just can’t root for, but he also can’t help it because he was raised by Wanyin Honglie. You can catch it on YouTube (I recall that there are couple of missing episodes from that playlist, but you can search on YT for those when you get there, to find them subtitled from other channels.)

*If you, like me, come away from LOCH 2017 with your mouth slightly ajar at how great CXX is, I have wonderful news for you! He’s been a lead in at least two other very good cdramas: the 2023 xianxia** The Starry Love, where he gets to play, like, five different characters (huge acting flex, and he’s great, although I would rush to stress I loved a ton of things about this show besides CXX himself), and the 2019 semi-historical drama Goodbye My Princess, which might actually be my favorite cdrama I have seen to date, and arguably THEE best well-made on a technical level, with phenomenal acting, a great script, and editing and directing I am constantly swooning over, but I am not entirely sure I can recommend to you unless you are a Tragedy Enjoyer.

(If you are a Tragedy Enjoyer, please stop whatever you’re doing and just start watching Goodbye My Princess right now, it is phenomenal. It is also available on YouTube. Watch the Director’s Cut, not the regular one! This is important. In its haste to get the main leads on screen together ASAP, the regular version does a Reader’s Digest version of stuff the Director’s Cut spends like five episodes carefully setting up, and it doesn’t make a lot of sense, nor does it flow well.)

**Speaking of xianxia! Xianxia is the high fantasy genre, full of magic and gods and demons and people dying and living multiple lives and whatnot. Important to note: xianxias are soap operas (complimentary). They tend to feature female protagonists, sweeping, epic romances, and put enormous emphasis on exploring the nuances of relationships and emotions. I have watched three that I loved (Love Between Fairy and Devil, The Starry Love, and Eternal Love: Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms), and while technically I could recommend all three, if you were going to watch just one, especially as a cdrama intro, I have to recommend Eternal Love, which really is the quintessential xianxia, the one all other xianxias are kind of shaping themselves around. I have watched it 1.5 times and I can say that it does not properly take off until like, episode 10, or whenever it is that the main couple finally, properly meet. IT IS WORTH THE INVESTMENT. This show made me want to spit blood. I cried multiple times watching it. It made me feel things. It has a wonderful immersive quality that’s hard to describe except to say that the entire show sort of vibrates on its own frequency. The casting is just kind of…perfect? Props to Maggie Huang for portraying the most perfectly hatable xianxia villainess of all time. Absolutely no one is doing it like Su Jin. No one should try. I believe this is available on YouTube, but after an abortive start, I realized it was on US Netflix, and watched it there.

As for tropes and background context: ehhhhhh. I mean, it’s an entire industry? I know substantially less about how it functions than I do about, like, American TV and film. I know government censorship is a not-inconsiderable factor, but I don’t know much of the nuance of how that plays out in terms of filming and airing. Tropes will vary according to subject. Idol dramas (shows built to showcase media personalities regardless of their ability to act) are a thing. Most cdrama audio is still dubbed (this one surprised me!), usually by professional voice actors and not by the original cast, for a confluence of reasons, some of which historically make sense (noisy filming lots rendering original audio useless), and some of which are really stupid (fans throwing hissy fits if lead actors don’t have the “right” kinds of voices for their characters).

Anyway! My recommendations are this: try The Legend of the Condor Heroes (2017) to start with, UNLESS you would prefer having your heart ripped out of your chest, in which case watch Goodbye My Princess (Director’s Cut, 2019), or UNLESS you love soap operas as much as I do, in which case watch Eternal Love: Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms (2017). All three are great shows, but they all hit differently/scratch a different itch.

Oh! Lastly! @dangermousie is a great source of cdrama recs. I should note she prefers dramas and tragedies and mostly does not vibe with xianxias. But she watches like eight million hours of dramas a week and reports her findings to us because she is a river to her people.