#ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I JUST IMMEDIATELY FINISHED A DRAWING

[bre4yd]

WIZARD GEM

(except its her student days)

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1260 words

series masterlist ; main masterlist this is part one of this blurb! the next part will be smut! this was supposed to one whole blurb, but unfortunately, i can't stop adding details

A week had passed since that toe-curling, heart stopping kiss with James, yet the memory clung to you, refusing to loosen its grip. Every moment replayed in your mind—the way his breath had mingled with yours, the warmth of his lips, the intoxicating mix of hesitation and desire that had crackled between you. It was impossible to shake, no matter how hard you tried to push it to the back of your mind.

But life, as it often does, had intervened. Work had been intense for both of you. His late nights at the office, followed by early morning school drop-offs, and your endless deadlines and marathon meetings had drained you both, leaving little room for anything else—especially the conversation you so desperately needed.

But you were hoping tonight would be different. He’d asked if you could watch Henry, and you’d never refused him before. And you weren’t about to start now.

“Darling?” Henry mumbled, his voice carrying that endearing tone that always made you smile. As he grew older, the nickname was losing its childish lisp, becoming clearer and more deliberate with each passing day. You couldn’t let yourself dwell on it, knowing it would bring you to tears. And as much as it weighed on you, you couldn’t even begin to imagine how James was feeling.

“Yeah, my love?” You hummed, your eyes still fixed on The Rescuers playing on the TV. Henry had insisted on watching it in James’s room because he wanted to “see the mice all big.” At first, you hesitated, unsure if being surrounded by James’s scent was a good idea. But Henry’s excitement was impossible to resist, and you found yourself giving in, despite your nerves.

“When is daddy back?”

“Um,” You glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand. “Soon I would think.”

“Oh.” Henry murmurs, shifting closer to cuddle into your side, his tiny hand reaching out to grasp yours. The two of you are nestled under the dark duvet, surrounded by the seven stuffed animals he insisted on bringing along. “I miss him,” he whispers, his voice tinged with quiet sadness.

“I’m sure he misses you too.” You say, offering him a gentle smile. He looks up at you with those unmistakable eyes—his father’s eyes—brown and sweet, carrying the same warmth that James’ have. His dark curls fall messily across his forehead, a mirror of James’s unruly hair. Even the curve of his smile, so innocent yet so familiar, pulls at your heart. It’s impossible not to see James in every feature, every expression, and every little gesture Henry makes. 

All you can think about is James.

“Do you miss daddy?” Your lips part, flustered and caught off guard by the question. For a second you debate lying, but you realize there’s no point. 

“Yes, I miss him too.” You finally murmur, and Henry’s face lights up with a grin, as if he’s just heard the most wonderful thing. He turns his gaze back to the TV, his attention returning to the movie, while he snuggles his stuffed dinosaur tightly in the hand that isn’t holding yours. The sight of him, so content and secure, tugs at your heart.

The movie has long finished and another has begun, but you’re oblivious to it all. Henry is fast asleep, nestled into your side, and you’re not far behind. Your focus is solely on threading your fingers gently through Henry’s dark curls. The rhythmic motion that had soothed him to sleep now lulls you as well, your eyes growing heavy with each tender stroke.

“Hey.” James murmurs with a warm, inviting smile, immediately drawing your gaze to the doorway where he stands. His white button-up shirt is casually open at the collar, the top two buttons undone, revealing a hint of his chest. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and as he crosses his arms, the fabric tightens over his biceps, accentuating their firm definition. Your eyes slowly trace down to his forearms, where the veins are subtly prominent. The combination of his relaxed stance and the his snug shirt makes your pulse quicken.

You resist the urge to fan yourself.

You swallow hard, struggling to pull your gaze back up. “Hi,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He grins, and you know instantly he’s caught you. “What are you two doing in here?” He asks, walking further into his room, glancing down at the stuffies with a soft chuckle

“Henry missed you,” You say softly. “That and he wanted to watch a movie on the big TV.”

“Of course he did.” James says with a soft, knowing tone. He rounds the bed and settles next the side closest to Henry. With a gentle touch, he brushes a few stray curls from his son’s forehead, his fingers lingering for a moment. Then, leaning down, he places a tender kiss on Henry’s forehead.

“I’m going to put him to bed.” James says softly, his voice soft as he looks up at you from his kneeling position by the bed. You nod quickly, your words caught in your throat.

You watch as James moves with practiced ease, sliding one hand tenderly behind Henry’s back and slipping the other under his knees. He lifts him carefully, his movements gentle yet confident, raising Henry up and off your chest. As hedoes, Henry lets out a soft whine, his small face scrunching up in a mix of sleepiness and longing. With a tiny, outstretched arm, he reaches toward you, his fingers stretching as far as they can go, desperate to grab you.

“No.” He huffs, his eyes opening the tiniest bit to glance up at his dad.

“It’s bedtime.” James says softly, drawing Henry close to his chest and gently reaching down to grab the stuffed dinosaur Henry clings to. 

“No! But I—” Henry protests, wriggling in James’s arms. He twists around, casting a desperate look over his shoulder at you. “I want mummy.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and your eyes dart to James, wide with shock. He mirrors your surprise. With one arm securely wrapped around Henry’s squirming body, he struggles to keep his son from wriggling free. Henry’s little face is flushed with frustration, his eyes locked onto yours as he reaches out with tiny, pleading hands, desperate for your comfort.

“Do you want to say goodnight to mum before bed?” James asks quietly, leaning down to speak into Henry’s ear. Henry stops squirming instantly and nods. Gently, James places his son back onto the bed, and Henry immediately flings himself at you, wrapping his arms around your neck. He collides with you with a soft thud, and you hear James mutter about being gentle with you.

“Goodnight,” You say whisper, one arm holding him to you and the other holding the back of his head. “I love you bunches. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Your eyes flicker up to meet James’ who is watching you with an indescribable look.

“Love you.” Henry mumbles, the sleepiness in his voice affecting his pronunciation. Then he leans back and plants a big kiss on your forehead, mimicking the affectionate gesture he’s seen his father make so many times. You laugh quietly and press a kiss on his nose in return. Satisfied, Henry crawls back to his father and lifts his arms. James picks him up, his gaze lingering on you.

“I’ll be right back.” James says softly before heading to Henry’s room. As he walks away, Henry peeks over his shoulder and waves a tiny hand at you.

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

part two here!

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Cat got your tongue (Percival de Rollo x Half Tabaxi!Reader)

synopsis: Percy liked to believe he wasn´t territorial or easily jealous, but something about seeing you with Vax makes his blood boil.

warnings: jealousy, marking, smut, afab reader

word count: 0.9k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall

A/N: Thank you @kawaiiangel906 for this request and I am so so sorry it took me so long to get to it. I hope you still enjoy. <3

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by @saradika

Laughter sounded over the grounds of the keep from outside all the way into Percy's workshop. Not even concealed by the sounds of the white-haired man tinkering with a weapon. It wasn't like he had much concentration left for it at the moment anyway, but what little was left of it before fled faster than it had come to him. This had been going on for far too long in his more or less humble opinion. This thing between you and Vax’ildan. Not a thing, as you had reminded him countless times, fur covered ears twitching at the idea of it alone. Worries temporarily stifled with a sweet kiss to the forehead and a deep hug. Filled with whispered confessions of love.

Grumbling under his breath Percy makes his way out of the keep.

“Percy!” You immediately jump up and run towards him, a wide grin on your face.

Percy’s eyes lay on Vax for a moment longer, who sits left behind on the grass where you had just trained with him, looking right back at the two of you. When Percy's eyes snap back to you he can see your mouth moving. Had he really not heard you talking this entire time?

“I'm sorry, my love. Could you repeat yourself?” He asks  the back of his neck.

“I just told you about my training with Vax… Are you not feeling well?” Your eyebrows draw together tightly.

“N-No, it's nothing. I am quite alright. Thank you.” Percy takes a hasty step back to avoid your hand coming up to feel his temperature. “Perhaps too much time in the workshop. I am happy that the progress you and Vax’ildan are making is to your liking.”

“Come sit with us then. We were about to be finished for the day anyway.” Your hand caresses his cheek, the other taking him to pull him along.

Night has never been particularly calm amongst the group either. Most certainly not since you had obtained the keep. Laughter and the sounds of people drinking into the early morning hours traveled easily. But this night's rest was particularly hard to come by. It could. Your bones hurt from the extensive exercise each day and the fights in between. Just not with a certain someone distracting you from the sweet release of slipping off to slumberland by needy lips grazing over the skin of your shoulder blades and teeth nipping at the column of your neck.

“Percival…” You groan. “It is late.”

The words come out mumbled and somewhat unintelligible. Still you turn your head until you can see the white head of hair from the corners of your eyes. One heavy hand finding its way into the light tresses to play with them.

“You have barely spent any time with me or anyone that isn't Vax’ildan lately.” Comes the equally mumbled response against your back.

He doesn't stop what he is doing until you are awake again and turn around fully.

“Love…” You begin a sentence but are quickly shut up by the possessive grip pulling your waist impossibly close to his.

“Shhh. This will just serve as a reminder to the others that you are mine.” Percy's teeth nip right below your jawline. Sucking on the tender flesh until deep purple bruises bloom all over.

Pressed into the mattress by his lean hips, you writhe and mewl helplessly. Subconsciously, your own hips begin to grind up against his after a while. Unable to just take it anymore.

“More.” You plead in high pitched tones. No matter how much you try, your voice just won't stay down.

“Nuh uh uh. What's the magic word, dear?” Percy reprimands you with a smile on his face.

He can feel the movement of your hips as well and it is a game to him. He is fully in charge of you and your pleasure in this moment and he knows it just as well as you do.

“Please, Percy. I need more.” You try again with your tail wrapping tightly around Percy's middle to prevent him from possibly pulling away.

“See, that wasn't so hard. When you ask nicely people will be far more inclined to give you what you are asking for.” He slides down almost unnoticeably, pushing up your nightdress, until his chin rests against your sternum, just underneath the valley of your breasts. Scattering more purple spots over them and then wandering further down. A puff of warm breath bringing your legs together around his shoulders. With a chuckle and two fingers, Percy opens them up again.

“Now, let everyone hear who you belong to.” The words echo in your ear as only moments after, his length impaled you in one rough thrust.

A groan in unison fills the room, on one side from the sudden stretch and on the other, because in response your claws shot out and dug into his shoulders. The rhythm with which he starts thrusting into you as soon as he recovers, has you near screaming. Moans of his name and desperate pleas string together to a sort of prayer. The sweetest prayer Percy had ever heard in his life. Until he has driven you over the edge so often that your throat is sore and your body is a twitching mess. Brain so clouded in fog that you can barely concentrate on anything beside his body against yours.

As you lay beside each other, entirely spent, Percy's hand trailing over your side, a satisfied purring fills the room from your lungs. Not even strong enough to keep your eyes open any longer, you are finally granted the relief of sleep. Dreaming of only one man. The one right beside you, who at that moment felt you were his completely. Pressing one last kiss against the back of your neck as he drifted off to sleep as well.

[lucabyte]

obligatory ramble about postcanon loop ask

also your art is amazing

Hiiiiiiiii :D thank you :)!!

and thank you for the excuse to post the. just absolute wall of text that i truncated down to form the tags of that post. (i did,,, hit the tag limit. i forgot tumblr had one of those...) so let me just paste that and tidy it up a bit...

I am putting this under a readmore because it's a bit long. but:

This is like. The General Context for all* of my postcanon doodles? (Except AUs obviously) Like this is the base idea I've been drawing them all in. So, feel free to backread with this in mind. I've basically had this 'postcanon' timeline set in my brain since finishing the game...

My general thoughts are that I like the idea of Loop (even if through dubiously ethical means) being able to slowly reintegrate with the party as a whole new person, because they are, in fact, their own person.

It's a muddle of thematic threads im pulling on and "wouldn't it be fucked up if", but. (at its core, it's powered by the fact that like, while narratively isat's theme of 'the only person who can truly take the first step to help you is yourself'. (wrt: loop helping the party help siffrin in act 5) which i LOVE AND IS GREAT NARRATIVELY…. would be super fucked up irl to learn that your friend 'learned as a lesson' while you stood by kinda uselessly. I know i'd be upset about it. but thats mostly background here. doesn't really come up. at least not until loop has to explain who they are and the party realises they had to fall back on literally themselves again for help, but i digress,)

The real core concept is: Occam's razor. It is like, inherently, a buckwild thing to accuse a person of being somehow a clone or copy of your friend. Even if they start vaguely alluding to a backstory it's far more likely they were some other person before all that. (I still think Odile has that theory in the back pocket but she's rational enough to know it's a really long shot without a solid explanation. and i think Loop deep down knows this, and would, if cornered into confessing, turn the situation around to go J'ACCUSE and make HER explain it instead. Ever longer dodging being direct with their emotions...)

And the party are nice! And if someone has changed and wants to keep stuff secret it's kind of not their business? (Though it's hard not to speculate… see: the main joke of the doodles) And they seem important to Siffrin so they just try to accept them abrasive quirks and all. And eventually the question of their prior identity just fades away since, well, they're Loop. Their friend Loop.

but yeah. personal headcanon is that a few months/weeks after picking up and getting aquainted with Nille** (since that was presumably the IMMEDIATE TASK postgame), Loop reappears (either after a literal period of nonexistance, or just spending a few months wandering the french countryside alone being attacked by wild dogs). Since Siffrin has had a while to be therapised by the party they're doing mostly okay, but Loop showing up and still being agitated/aggressive pulls them both into a bit of a backslide behaviourally and puts the party on the back foot again.

Hooowever, I do think that due to no longer being literally stewing in the worst pressure cooker of all time together, the two do mostly actually sort themselves out with productive conversation. (Via a cycle of: genuinely distressing argument -> weeeird lovebombing -> ok we're good -> repeat, that gets less intense over time)

Thus, allowing the party to just. Integrate loop as a new person. They and Siffrin shuffle into different ecological niches (Loop taking over stuff Siffrin is now too squeamish for, etc (see: hunting, mostly)), and while it's not exactly what Loop wanted they generally get that beggars can't be choosers and it's a pretty good deal. And the rest of the party does straight up just like them as a friend, especially when Loop quits trying to actively antagonise them after a few weeks of being around them, since they just can't keep up being mean to people they like forever.

As for how I think the truth eventually drags itself out. This is where I invoke The Isabeau Torment Nexus™. So its gonna get shippy here for a bit hold on.

Which is, I think giving them time before Loop reappears long enough that Siffrin and Iseabeau actually manage to become established, Isabeau has to be the one to nudge the pair of them and go. "Hey. You know we're in Vaugarde right. I'm okay with polyamory if we all communicate." Before Loop and Siffrin actually even acknowledge that whatever the fuck they have going on kinda looks a lot like a relationship of some kind. (or have already been agonising about that via fighting and arguing, depending) (Obviously this comes after Isa "Emotionally intelligent enough to keep a lid on the jealousy" Beau has managed to use that big brain of his to Not just go Scream somewhere on the daily because oh godddd they keep talking like theyre suicide-baiting each other jesus chriiist. is it overstepping his boundaries to bring that up?? god)

This, taking a bunch of the tension out of Loop and Isabeau's relationship (Since I imagine Loop is a. being weird for the obvious reasons and b. feeling kinda guilty about 'getting in the way of' Siffrin and Iseabeau), allows them to actually get close in a normal friend way. (I think an interesting turning point could be Isabeau actually taking Loop's side in an argument vs Siffrin, which would absolutely break Loop's brain. Especially if it's an argument that matters. Like what do you mean he isn't just going to play favourites. What?)

Then Isabeau, just actually open minded and charmed by Loop (and maybe even somewhat at Siffrin's suggestion?) tries to close the final open side on the polyamory triangle here and that's the final straw for Loop on "This lie by omission is too unethical to keep up, this is just actually sick and wrong. I can't do this while he doesn't know who I am." Though. Obviously it probably goes. Very poorly with emotions high like that. And the added element of several months of deceit. Getting dark here for a second but that dagger is going MISSING and so are THEY for a hot minute.

Then yaaay everything works out in the end 👍 yippieee!! all it took was maybe a lot of harrowed recontextualisation of all the weird shit your new friend said and did when it turns out they're your old friend. It's fine.

But yeah. this is basically the context all of my postcanon doodles have existed within? And those exist to give other people something to chew on. So this does too.

I suppose TL;DR: Imagine if sloopis almost fucking happens before isabeau knows who loop is. can you fucking imagine. can you imagine having to navigate that. nightmare.

*Yes this includes the implied cannibalism comic. Uhh. Comes part and parcel with headcanoning that Loop went way off the deep end similar to A5 Sif But Maybe Worse before giving in. Add weepy half-asleep confessions to murder wherever you see fit in your mind palace. 👍👍👍

**Re: Nille footnote. I don't have anywhere to put this besides here! I have some thoughts on Loop and Nille having an odd dynamic. I don't imagine Nille to be super gung-ho on trusting a bunch of adults (even if they are majority around her age) given their implied backstory. It's probably a big shock to the system, especially since Bambouche is a good couple hundred Kilometers up north from Dormont and these guys don't seem to have trains. She would've been unfrozen and without Bonnie for some time....

Which is to say: I think she's suspicious of them. I think she may be looking for excuses to distance herself, keep Bonnie safe. SO.... A new guy showing up? And antagonising the party? What do they know that I don't...? I should find out.

And since... Loop didn't ever know Nille, they have no ammunition or real reason to be cruel. Plus, if they're trying to stay on Bonnie's good side (SINCE... if Bonnie thought Loop was cringe they may as well kill themselves. In their mind.) they SUPER have no reason to antagonise Nille.

Mostly, they might be able to open up to each other easier than they can the rest of the party?

I feel like this resolves with Loop feeling compelled to apologise for what they and Siffrin let happen to Bonnie, though... Hmm... Depends on how you interpret Nille that they'd be glad nobody else had been told about that yet, or furious it had been secret this long. I lean toward the former.

[to-the-stars8]

A Table For Two

Jason Todd x Reader Chapters Ao3

Chapter 2

Jason leaned against the wall beside the restaurant’s entrance, his gaze flickering between you and the keys you fumbled for. You didn’t notice him until your eyes caught his, and you froze, unsure why he looked familiar. He seemed to pick up on your hesitation. Stepping away from the door, he made a subtle, unspoken gesture of reassurance: I’m not a threat.

Then it clicked—he was the guy from yesterday. You muttered a stiff “Good morning” and turned to unlock the door, your movements still a little guarded.

“Good morning,” He said, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

You glanced over your shoulder before pushing the door open. Stepping aside, you waited for him to enter, only following a minute later. Flipping a switch, the restaurant came to life. It was your basic family-owned Italian restaurant with the red and white tablecloths, accompanied by wooden chairs. On the wooden-paneled walls were black and white photos of great Italian-Americans and some of Nicky’s actual family. Your shoes squeaked against the black and white floor tiles as you crossed the dining room to the back office. 

“Where am I goin’,” Jason asked, turning back to you. 

You pointed to the left, where there was a door labeled ‘Employees Only’. He shook his head, laughing a little at himself, before he pushed through the door. Nicky was sitting there at the desk, his thick black glasses sitting low on his nose, taking his time to finish some paperwork.

“Hey, boss,” Jason said, leaning against the doorframe. 

You scooted around his big frame to clock in. 

Nicky let out a long, tired sigh before slowly turning around, clearly annoyed. He gave Jason a once-over, taking in his attire. He wasn’t wearing anything inappropriate. Jason wore a black t-shirt that fit snug across his chest and dark grey jeans that clung just enough to draw your eye.

You caught yourself staring. Great. Real smooth.

“I’ll be sweeping the foyer if you need me,” You mumbled bashfully, quickly moving out of the office. 

Nicky called your name, and you reluctantly stopped right next to Jason. Faintly, you could smell cigarette smoke mixed with mint. Taking off his glasses, Nicky threw them onto the table as he spoke, “I think it’s gonna be a pretty fast day, so Jack–”

“It’s Jason, boss.”

Nick huffed at the correction, but continued. “Jason will be following you around for a bit since we don’t have a busser to train him. He doesn’t need to know all the server lingo, but he needs to know the basics of bussing.”

“Sure thing,” You said with a forced smile.

Nicky motioned for Jason to take a seat in the empty chair against the wall, more than likely about to hand him a mountain of paperwork. As he brushed past you, you caught his eye—and immediately felt your cheeks heat like you'd been caught doing something embarrassing.

Blushing at some random stranger. Professionalism at its finest.

You spun on your heel. “Gonna…go do my opening duties now,” you muttered, power-walking out of the office like it owed you money.

Opening duties. That was safe. Not full of men with stupid green eyes and stupidly thick thighs.

By the time Jason emerged from the office, he had Nicky smiling and clasping him on the shoulder–A stark contrast to yesterday and this morning. You were cutting lemons, the citrus stinging faintly where you'd nicked your finger earlier, when your boss approached. He said your name in the same loud, booming tone he always had. 

“Kiddo, you think you could take Jason here and introduce ‘im to everyone? We got about,” He paused to look at his watch. “An hour to open.”

You wiped your hands down the front of your apron, eyes flickering to the front door for a brief moment before you nodded, smiling. “Sure thing. Follow me, Jason.”

Jason thanked Nicky with a handshake, and your boss, now clearly pleased with him, clapped him on the shoulder. As you walked, you thought about starting a conversation—Just to get a feel of him, but you choked on your words. Fuck, what had come over you?

“Hey, guys, the new busser is here,” You said in a sing-song voice as you passed through the swinging doors. There were two women and two men who worked the back of the house, not including the dishwasher. “Jason, these are our line cooks, Hayley and Justin. Our sous-chef is Isobel, and Lamar, our head chef.”

“Nice to meet you, my guy,” Justin said, before pointing to his biceps. “You’re ripped as hell, what’s your workout routine?”

Jason smiled and flexed his arms a little. For your own sake, you didn’t look. 

“Weights, pull-ups—Ya know, the works,” Jason answered smoothly. 

You were quick to change the subject by bringing him back out to the floor. You passed up Barney, an older man who was always grumpy, and passively introduced him. Barney couldn’t have cared less about Jason, and only grumbled incoherently. 

Amira, who was wiping down the tables, lit up when she saw Jason. Completely abandoning what she was doing, she hurried over. “Oh, hi!” 

Jason glanced at you, hoping you’d remind him of her name. Briefly, you thought about teasing by not telling him, but found that you couldn’t. “Amira, you obviously remember Jason.”

“Nice to see you again, Amira,” He said sweetly. 

She flashed a smile that you knew was bait. Fortunately, Jason didn’t seem to care or notice, only nonchalantly commenting on how he liked her tattoo. Amira’s smile faltered a little, but that wouldn’t deter her. She liked the game of cat and mouse. 

“What does dear old Nicolas have you doing now,” She asked, fiddling with the end of one of her braids. The question was clearly directed at Jason, but you didn’t notice.

You answered absent-mindedly, “Oh, I’m just showing Jason around, and then we’ll get into starting the day.”

You turned to look up at him, half-expecting him to confirm that he understood you. His eyes gave you a once over like he knew what you looked like with your clothes off before he agreed with a slow nod. 

Sucking in a breath, you turned back to Amira. “Elena in yet?”

“Right here!” Elena interjected hurriedly, crossing the floor towards your little group. She looked frazzled—eyes a touch too wide, shoulders wound tight. “I need this place spotless, and the table near the window prepared. Now.”

Your heart sank a little. “Who’s coming in?”

Closed her eyes and pursed her lips, like she was mentally preparing to say his name. Finally, she rushed the name out of her mouth like it would burn her tongue. “Cobblepot. In twenty minutes.”

Oh. That was news. 

You turned on your heel and made a beeline for Nicky’s office, where he was, unsurprisingly, stalking his ex-wife on Facebook. Again. Jason trailed behind, whispering, asking what was going on, but you ignored him. 

“Nicky?” You said, and the man whirled around in his chair. “We got Mr. Cobblepot coming in for an early lunch, should I stick Jason with Barney while I serve him?”

Nicky’s eyes widened. He jumped to his feet, threw his glasses on, yanked them back off, and started pacing in circles, clearly searching for his tie. Not that it was a surprise he wasn’t wearing it. Nicky hated anything that felt like a noose. 

“Yes. Yes! Stick ‘im with Barney. Fuck! We don’t open for a fuckin’ hour! The bastard,” Nicky said loudly, before he stopped. “Sorry, honey, don’t mind me. I got the tongue of a sailor, ya know?”

“It’s okay, Nicky, I got it,” You said, already backing up out of the office. 

Jason waited until you were clear of the office before leaning in close. “Okay, seriously. What’s going on?”

You glanced around, then pulled him toward the server station, voice low.

“So. Little Gotham trivia for you,” You said with a huff. “We’re in this weird little part of the city that nobody really has control over—Not even Red Hood. Since that’s the case, we get a bit of the city’s most prolific mob bosses. They’re usually chill. Unless, they’re making up for something…like Cobblepot.”

Jason stared blankly at you, and you assumed he was processing the information. After another second, he blurted out, “Oh.”

You nodded. “Oh, indeed, my friend. It’s fine. We’re fine.”

It was not fine.

[hyuneskkami]

❪ ⭑ ❫ starlight: chapter 2───lee know.

02. black cat… cats! plural.

ꕀ cw. mentions of dizziness due to exhaustion , lots of nicknames , being called ‘baby’ , hinting at hyunlix ; wc. 1.07k

the next morning, I woke up to a bunch of texts from my manager, explaining when the collab stage would be, and its theme.

we were collaborating for day 2 of our concerts in tokyo, since we had the same dates for our tour in japan, and were set to play in the same location for day 2.

the collab stage in japan was set for next month, which meant we had just that long to plan, learn, and rehearse. it also meant that I could spend a whole month with my best friends, ‘professionally’.

(though hyunjin was slightly sad that we’d have to postpone our hangout in paris as well as our concerts in paris (to focus on the collab), he was very happy that it meant I could spend a whole month with them.)

starting tomorrow, I was told that i’d be given a room at the skz dorms to live with them, and I was so excited about it, I finished packing all my stuff in an hour.

after that, the ride to the jype building was quite short. I rolled out my twin suitcases, paid the taxi driver, and entered the building to meet the boys.

I immediately dropped the handle of my suitcases and ran to chan when I saw him. he embraced me in a tight hug, which could only be described as a bear hug.

“channie hyung! I can’t— breathe—”

“y/n-ah! you’re finally here!” he said, loosening his grip around me.

“when do we start practice?” I asked, eyes wide with excitement.

“oh baby, you’re so hyper, hm? let’s meet up with rest of the boys first,” he hummed. he took my suitcases with him, and we talked till we reached the room where they had been practicing.

as soon as I opened the door, jeongin came running and bumped into me.

“noona! you’re finally here!” he screamed into my ear, hugging me as we both fell onto the floor.

“iyyenah! I missed you, my little baby,” I cooed.

han pulled us up, and detached jeongin from my arms so he could hug me too.

“n/n-ah, it’s been too long! do you just come for hyunjin and ayen? not for us?” han asked, making doe eyes at me. more like, boba eyes.

I pinched his cheek in response, smiling. “don’t worry hanji, i’ll be with you guys for the entire next month, so you can’t get rid of me easily then.”

chan clapped his hands to draw attention. “y/n’s going to be staying at the dorms with us, starting today. so i’m expecting that you guys will at least try to behave a little decently.”

they were anything but decent.

over the next few days, while I got settled in the dorms, I saw many unspeakable things: ramen on the couch, shirtless men walking around, seungmin being a menace, butt-hunter lee know, and chan being bullied by all the others. I wish I could sell this content to STAYs and become rich, ugh.

I had gotten closer with changbin due to our shared love for working out, and with seungmin because we both simply loved annoying everyone together (han complained about having two seungmins ‘as if one wasn’t enough’).

the only one that didn’t fit into my grand scheme of things was lee know. from the first second we laid our eyes on each other, we started bickering.

“yah! y/n! can you take your weird slippers away from here? it’s blocking my way,” he said, rolling his eyes. speak of the devil.

“move them yourself,” I grumbled back from my spot on the couch, where I was sitting to watch some anime with felix.

for many years (since our debuts), fans of both stray kids and my music, constantly theorised about how similar lee know and I were. I did do my research on it (obviously) too. my tasteful analysis and conclusions revealed that he was… amazing. I liked his style, his dance, his personality, everything.

the problem was, those side-by-side dance comparison videos made by fans actually made sense. we did have the same dance style. and the exact same personality, apparently.

and that is exactly why we started bickering. our dynamic just made sense if we were like that. not like I have a problem, because it’s actually fun and entertaining most of the time (there were complains of having two lee know’s too, now).

“she’s such a black cat!” jeongin said.

“black cat… cats! plural. both lee know and her,” chan added.

soon enough, we had only two weeks before the collab stage. we had surprisingly finished all practices already, and just had to rehearse now.

vocal practices were always fun in rooms with air conditioning, and while I loved the dance practices with a bickering lee know and god-knows-what-they-are hyunjin and felix, I would definitely have preferred not to be drenched in sweat by the end of practice everyday.

it was our last day practicing at the jype building, since chan told us we’d be flying to japan tonight. apparently, our managers wanted us to ‘officially’ announce the collab via a vlog in tokyo.

hyunjin and felix had decided to head back to the dorms early to start packing. lee know and I stayed for a final practice, since we had both already finished and had our suitcases ready.

halfway through the dance, black spots began to cloud my vision. I felt my body sway a little slower, and it felt like marbles were rolling inside my brain. either I was hallucinating, or lee know was looking smaller and looked like he was much farther away.

is this because of the three-hours-per-day sleep schedule? or something else?

I tried to push through to finish the practice, but I felt myself falling. strong arms wrapped around my waist before I fell to the floor, saving me from a concussion.

ah, my hero, of course. lee know.

“y/n? Y/N? where’s your water bottle— nevermind, just take mine,” lee know spoke fast, half-dragging half-walking me to the chair near his bag. he helped me sit down, and shifted around to get his bottle.

I felt his hand open my mouth and water was poured into my mouth, some of it dripping down, as my head was against the wall.

he closed the bottle, and moved me so I could rest my head on his lap, and dabbed at the drops of water running down my mouth with the sleeve of his jacket.

“why can’t you just rest enough, n/n,” he whispered. “you always get me so worried.” he stroked his fingers gently through my hair, and the dizziness slowly turned into sleep.

prev < m.list > next

[hoiststowline]

would you be willing to write something cute with first aid? thanks!

first aid x reader

[a/n: yeah! thank you!]

Upon several glances, some way too ambitious and not inconspicuous enough, it’s realized that First Aid moves with resolve. Almost as if he put in every ounce he had with no guaranteed successful output- even against menial tasks. Handfuls of words come to mind, mostly determined and committed to seeing things through and then some, but it was never in a distorted light. Ones some describe as admirable traits, and others argue are taken to a fault, it seems to never bother the medical officer.

He’s doing an inventory of all things, moving languidly around the room and paying you no mind. Not exactly ignoring, as you had nothing substantial to bring up in conversation, yet seeking his company. First Aid could never be that harsh, yet the amount of sanitized jumper cables momentarily ranks a little higher than wondering what you were up to.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to be disappointed regarding it, you’re the one who took it upon yourself to sit on the counter whilst he was busy. It’s the same song and dance; he always comes to you once he’s finished his responsibilities, and it's a respectable notion.

In this instance, you’re not preoccupied by something else, a book or a slew of missed messages or emails. You take it upon yourself to survey him, observing the way his left hip extends just a bit out to the left as he counts salient things within the cabinet, well beyond your line of sight.

“…really red, are you alright?”

Something within you dies at that, blinking thrice before recognizing he’s no longer across from you in the room. It’s even more jarring to find that he’s long since moved, standing just to your right in front of the counter, waving a hand slowly in front of your face.

He asked you a question, and you’d been too occupied to even comprehend he was inquiring one.

Hesitantly, you shake your head, appallingly feigning nonchalance. “I’m sorry, run that by me one more time?” Spoken poorly, as do most who’ve been caught in a miserable situation.

First Aid pauses, his hand dropping unceremoniously back to its rightful spot, at his side. “Hm. I said your face looks really red. Are you okay?”

Immediately, unsteady hands come to your cheeks, feeling the twinges of warmth that have settled just beneath the skin there. It’s like a double whammy-you’d been caught staring and the most unfavorable color had strongly adhered to your face.

“I’m fine,” You insist, palms sliding the remaining length of your face to drop rather dramatically into your lap. “S’just hot in here.”

"Is it?" He casts a glance over his shoulder, eyeing the thermostat, finding that it is of normal temperature within the office. "No, it's not. I'd say it's cold, if anything,"

Peering around him, your stomach twists to find it really was only about sixty degrees, yet every exposed square inch of skin burned hot. "Huh. Weird,"

"Are you unwell?" He tries again, taking a step closer, shortly followed by another. Several red flags were arising within his processor, concerns brewing at the situation, and your responses did not make well enough sense.

"What? No." You insist, fingers dropping from your face to settle behind you on the counter, leaning your weight backward.

"Humor me," A digit comes to your forehead, then effortlessly slides down to the apple of your cheek as if checking your temperature. As if you would squirm or move away, the unoccupied hand cups your jaw, thumb pressing gently against your chin.

You have nothing to say, a stuttering mess beneath his shadow. He's so close, yet disquiet was the root of his gesture, inching so near that you have to draw your knees up to your chest to allow him to move flush to the counter.

"You are really warm," First Aid concludes, touch lingering a moment too long before dropping altogether, though he never takes a step backward. "Are you sure you feel up to par?"

"Positive," You squeak, fingers squeezing your kneecaps so tightly your joints are screaming for mercy. "Totally fine."

He eyes you curiously as if he doesn't quite believe you but relents, taking one step rearward that alleviates some of your lovesick nausea. "Let me know if it gets worse, okay?"

"Huh?" Not doing yourself any favors, your eyes meet his in a stern stare-down.

"Your temperature?" Proposed sincerely, though you weren't lessening his fretting. "Let me know."

"Right," You nod, shrugging off such a warped idea, fearful you were just digging yourself deeper into the same rut. "Yeah. I will."

[wordpress-blaze-222749076]

Self Defence Tips for Runners

Running solo is both freeing and practical, but safety concerns are on the rise—especially for those who hit the pavement alone. Every runner has heard the stories or seen the headlines and it's clear: solo runners face real risks, from unwanted attention to serious threats. Preparation isn't about fear, but about confidence and control. So, let’s dive into the power of self defence tips for runners.

Adopting smart self defence strategies puts the power back in your hands and can turn worry into peace of mind. This guide covers key techniques, essential tools, habits that keep you safer. So you’ll be able help you stay focused on what you love—your run.

Plan Your Route for Maximum Safety

Your running route shapes your entire training effort and directly impacts your personal safety. By taking a smart, intentional approach to route planning, you cut down risks and stay focused on the run itself. Let’s look at proven ways to map out the safest paths, use the best tools, and add extra layers of protection every time you train alone.

Use Safe, Well-Known Paths

Photo by Gustavo Fring

The most important rule: choose routes that are both familiar and frequently used by other runners. Move away from shortcuts, isolated trails, or any place that feels hidden or hard to reach. If a street or park looks empty or poorly lit, pick another way.

Where you run matters. Here are some tips to help you pick a safer route:

Stay visible by choosing paths that are well-lit and open.

Seek locations recognised by your local running community. Parks, waterfronts and public trails that host regular joggers often have a safer feel.

Plan your workouts during daylight or peak hours. Aim for times with more foot traffic e.g. early morning or before dusk is usually best.

Trust your instincts. If an area makes you uncomfortable, even if it looks safe, skip it.

Navigation tools can help you check elevation, distance, and how busy paths usually are. Resources like RunGo’s turn-by-turn route planner or the roundup at The 7 Best Running Route Planners make it easy to map custom routes and discover new safe paths nearby.

Leverage Technology for Added Protection

Modern tech can be your best ally on a solo run. With GPS tracking, live location sharing and smart apps. You give yourself an invisible shield , letting others know where you are at all times.

Key tips when using technology for extra safety:

Turn on real-time GPS tracking. Many running watches and phones let trusted contacts follow your session live.

Use location sharing features in popular apps. For example, Strava Beacon or Garmin’s safety and tracking alerts can send your route and updated location to family or friends every time you run.

Explore apps with safety-first options. Some, like Footpath and RunGo, can guide you with audio instructions along pre-approved safe routes.

Consider setting up emergency contacts or auto-alert features in your fitness app—if something feels off, help is just a button-press away.

Popular options include Strava’s live features and run mapping apps listed in TechRadar’s guide to the best mapping apps. These tools not only map your run, but add meaningful peace of mind.

Running alone can be freeing, but you should never feel isolated. By combining safe route planning and modern apps, you boost both confidence and safety—every mile.

Stay Aware and Visible at All Times

Feeling safe on your run starts with two powerful habits: staying aware and making yourself visible. Whether you train in the early morning, evening or anywhere in between. These are everyday practices with big payoffs. Proper attention to your surroundings, combined with smart wardrobe choices, helps you avoid dangers from traffic to unwanted encounters. So you can focus on your stride, not your stress.

Limit Distractions and Stay Focused

Getting in the zone feels great, but tuning out completely opens you up to risk. Runners often lose themselves in music or podcasts, but hidden hazards and sudden surprises demand your full attention. The best defence is a tuned-in mind.

Keep headphone volume low. You still hear important sounds like footsteps, cars, or someone calling out. Loud tunes drown out cues you can't afford to miss.

Use only one earbud. Running with one ear free lets you enjoy audio yet stay tuned to the real world. One good ear on your surroundings is worth any playlist.

Check your environment often. Regularly scan ahead, to the sides, and behind. Look for new people, animals, or vehicles entering your zone.

Avoid texting, calls, or other distractions. Pausing to post or handle your phone interrupts your awareness and slows your reactions.

Trust your instincts. If something feels off, change your route or head to a busier area. Your intuition is your early warning system.

Run with purpose: you’re not just chasing distance, you’re owning your space. Staying alert prevents most situations from becoming problems. For more detailed tips on staying alert and its impact on running safety, check out this guide on how to keep a watchful eye when you run alone.

Wear Reflective and High-Visibility Gear

Photo by RUN 4 FFWPU

Evening and early morning runs bring less light and more risk. Being seen by drivers and cyclists is not optional, it’s essential. High-visibility clothing and reflective gear boost your chance of staying safe mile after mile.

Consider adding these to your running kit:

Reflective vests and harnesses. A lightweight reflective vest amplifies your outline from every angle. Look for those with broad coverage.

Bright, neon tops. Day or night, bold, fluorescent colors catch the eye—think yellow, orange, or green.

Reflective stripes and patches. Add these to jackets, shoes, and hats for extra visibility in low light.

LED armbands, lights, or clip-ons. Small, battery-powered lights make you visible in seconds and attach almost anywhere.

Visible accessories. Hats, gloves, and even shoe laces in bright or reflective colours round out a stand-out look.

Wondering what to pick? Reviews of the best reflective running gear for 2025 share top-rated vests, shirts, and accessories guaranteed to boost nighttime safety. For more ideas, check out new reflective visibility collections—these products are designed specifically for runners who want to be seen.

No matter your mileage or speed, the right gear and awareness habits tip the odds in your favour. You become more than just a runner—you become visible, alert, and in control of your safety.

Equip Yourself with Self Defence Tools and Skills

Running alone clears your mind, but it’s smart to prepare for what you can't control. When you pack the right self defence tools and know a few easy moves, you run with real confidence. These aren't just backup plans—they’re your safety net. It’s not about expecting trouble; it’s about handling it if it comes your way.

Carry Easy-to-Use Protection

The right tools—small but mighty can make a world of difference. Modern self defence gear is designed for quick access and easy use, even in a stressful moment.

Pepper Spray: Compact, effective, and simple to use in an emergency. Clip it to your waistband or keychain. Make sure it’s always within reach, not buried at the bottom of your pocket.

Personal Alarms: These loud, pocket-sized devices act fast. Pull the pin or press a button to unleash a shrill sound that attracts attention and can startle an attacker.

Tactical Whistles: Lightweight but powerful, a good whistle cuts through traffic, music, and other noise. It never runs out of battery, and you can hang it from your wrist or zipper for instant access.

Handheld Tools: Products like safety keychains or small tactical flashlights fit in your palm. Some feature sharp edges or points. Only carry what feels comfortable in your hand and practice using it before you hit the trail.

For best results, always keep your chosen protection tool within a split-second grab. Test it out on a walk or jog around the block. Aim for muscle memory, so you don’t have to think—you just react. More ideas and trusted product reviews can be found at 9 self-defense weapons for runners and Go Guarded's lineup of self defense tools.

Learn Simple, Effective Defence Moves

Carrying a tool is smart, but knowing how to act is even better. Basic self defence skills can help you break free and shout for help—giving you those crucial extra seconds.

The most useful physical tactics for runners:

Yelling Loudly: Don’t hold back. A sharp, forceful yell not only draws attention but can cause an attacker to hesitate or run. Practice your "NO!" so it comes out strong when you need it.

Striking Soft Targets: If grabbed, aim for eyes, throat, nose, or groin. Palm strikes, elbows, or knee kicks work best. These are places where even a small amount of force can stop someone bigger than you.

Escaping Holds: Shimmy or twist as you drop your weight down. Lower your centre, stomp on feet and turn your hips to break free. If someone grabs you from behind, squat and shift sideways. An elbow strike or a backwards head butt can create enough space to escape.

It’s smart to practice these moves. Try them solo or take self defence or martial arts classes if possible. Repeat until your body knows what to do, even under stress. For step-by-step tips and expert demonstrations, check out this guide to the best self defence moves for runners and real-world scenarios at Self Defense for Runners.

Self defence is not just about tools or strength, it’s about readiness and mindset. With the right gear in your hand and key skills in your pocket, every solo run feels just a little bit safer.

Share Your Whereabouts and Build a Safety Network

Every solo run should come with peace of mind. Good safety habits don’t stop with gear; they start with smart communication and a network of support. Sharing your plans and connecting with fellow runners helps you reduce risk, respond quickly to problems, and feel stronger on every route.

Tell Someone Before You Head Out

Small actions before you lace up can make a big difference. Always share your route, distance and expected return time with a friend or family member. Don’t leave your whereabouts as a mystery, give someone you trust the info they need to act fast if there's a delay.

Many runners use messaging apps or group texts for this. But real-time location tracking takes safety further. Apps like Google Maps let you share your live location for the length of your run, so someone can see where you are and how you’re moving. This live trail of breadcrumbs can be critical if something goes wrong or you don’t return as planned.

Key benefits include:

Instant awareness: Trusted contacts can see if you’re on course or if you’ve stopped unexpectedly.

Faster response: If you have an emergency or get lost, help can pinpoint your last known location.

Added peace of mind: Sharing your run isn’t just about worry—it’s about running stronger, knowing someone’s got your back.

There's no need to broadcast to the world, but making your run visible to one trusted person can be life-saving. Learn more about how to share your real-time location during a run using tools like Google Maps from this user-recommended tutorial.

Join a Safety-Minded Running Community

You don’t have to run as part of a crowd to benefit from community support. Local and online running groups are great sources of safety info, trusted routes and encouragement. Sharing experiences, warnings, or updates about changing conditions makes everyone safer. While also keeping solo runners in the loop without sacrificing their independence.

Engage with groups that focus on:

Safety check-ins: Arrange pre- and post-run messages or meet in common areas to start and finish together, even if you run different routes.

Recommended routes: Runners share up-to-date info on which trails are safest, best lit, or most popular at different times.

Real-time alerts: Get warnings about problem areas, recent incidents, or trail closures from people who were just there.

Motivation and support: Feeling connected not just physically, but mentally—gives you extra strength for tough days.

Some clubs meet in person, while others organise group chats or forums for easy info sharing. Joining even one safety-focused running group reduces isolation and multiplies your resources.

Explore the key benefits of running in a group, including stronger motivation and a safer environment. Even solo miles gain strength from collective wisdom.

Reacting Calmly and Quickly: What to Do If Threatened

Feeling threatened is every solo runner’s worst nightmare, but how you react can tip the outcome in your favour. The goal: keep your wits, act fast, and always prioritise your safety. Take charge with a clear plan instead of freezing under stress.

Trust Your Gut and Change Course

Your instincts are your first and best line of defence on the run. That tight feeling in your chest, chills, or nervousness? Listen and act. If your surroundings, a person or even an oddly parked car feels off. Don’t push through, change your route without hesitation.

Turn around and retrace your steps. Heading back or choosing a busier street often means leaving a threat behind.

Cross to the other side of the road or trail. Extra distance alone can be enough to avoid a problem.

Detour toward people or open businesses. Safe, public spaces add eyes and take away opportunity for trouble.

Contact someone you trust. A simple call or text saying “headed back early” not only checks you in, but lets a would-be threat know you’re connected.

These choices disrupt an attacker’s plan. Runners who act early lower their risk and often avoid direct confrontations altogether. Safety experts agree: if you sense something is wrong, don’t doubt yourself—move. Real-world stories and actionable steps are covered in this piece on how to handle being harassed on a run.

Take Immediate Defensive Action

Sometimes, threats appear too suddenly for an easy retreat. Calm and quick thinking make all the difference. Stay focused on escaping and getting help—don’t get drawn into a confrontation you don’t need.

If you’re approached or physically threatened:

Shout loud and clear. Yelling “Back off!” or “Help!” does more than just attract attention—it signals to the attacker you won’t go quietly. Make noise, even if it feels awkward in the moment.

Use your self-defence tools. Deploy pepper spray, a personal alarm, or a tactical whistle right away. These tools are designed for split-second use, as described in top self defense tactics for runners. Always check your self defence laws in your country and state to see what self defence tools are legal.

Aim for escape—always. Don’t worry about “winning.” Break contact and run toward safety. Head for lights, people, or any landmark where you’ll find help.

Strike if you must. If grabbed, go for vulnerable areas: eyes, throat, nose, or groin. Aim to break their grip and get away—not to fight it out.

Create distance. Even a few steps can buy you precious seconds to run or alert others.

Always rehearse these actions mentally, so they feel natural under stress. Practicing defence moves boosts your confidence and readies your mind to react instead of freeze. Check out these best self defense moves for runners to refine your response plan.

Remember, your number one job in a threat is not to stand your ground—it's to make it home safe. Reacting with a sharp, confident move can change everything.

Conclusion

Preparation, confidence and support save lives on the run. Solo runners who plan their routes, stay aware and train with the right tools enter each mile with calm assurance. No shortcut replaces the peace of mind that comes from sticking to safe routines, sharing your plans, and practicing smart self defence.

Building habits like real-time location sharing or joining a local running group creates strength in numbers—even when you run alone. The first step toward safety is yours to take. Choose one action from this guide and put it in place for your next run.

 

Source: Self Defence Tips for Runners

[myloversgone]

Dean x OFC: Short and Sweet

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Maisie (OFC)

Warnings: +18. Trigger warnings: Abusive relationship. Emotional negligence. Physical abuse. OFC’s boyfriend is a jackass. Smut. P in V. Unprotected sex (it’s fiction, people). Porn but also fluff and romantic, because it’s me.

Summary: When Dean was introduced to one of Sam’s old friends from Stanford, he didn’t expect his whole world to change.

Word count: ~15K (I’M SO SORRY, IT’S BEEN TOO LONG SINCE I WROTE SOMETHING, OKAY)

A/N 1: This story is set during the first seasons, probably around year 4. Don’t know exactly how long it would’ve taken Sam to finish Stanford, but I believe it would be around four years, so let’s imagine the brothers are young. Dean’s behavior in the beginning is also more like in the first seasons, so bear with me.

A/N 2: I have my very first original character! That’s scary. The image of her came to my mind so clearly, I couldn’t just ignore it. I kept writing and imagining her, it couldn’t be Y/N this time. It sucks that I can’t draw a straight line to save my life, ‘cause I wanted so badly to draw her so you guys can see her the way I do!

Anyways, I hope this story doesn’t suck too much. I wrote three versions of it before deciding this one was the best way to tell it.

A/N 3: I started writing this fic in May, 2022, and could only finish it now. The plan was to post it on Dean’s birthday, but it wasn’t possible, unfortunately. Life has been chill lol.

Enjoy the reading and don’t forget to leave feedback!

MASTERLIST

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The first time Dean saw her, was in a picture. The corners of the photo were in shreds; it was folded in the middle, forever creased from being kept inside Sam’s wallet for so long. Despite its poor state, Dean would never forget it.

"Hey, Dean", Sam had called.

"Yeah?"

"How do you feel about going to a party?"

Dean, who had been searching for a clean shirt in his duffel bag, immediately stopped what he was doing, turning around and staring at his younger brother.

"Excuse me? Are you feeling ok?", he asked, brow raised.

"Seriously, dude”, Sam replied, rolling his eyes. “It's a friend's party", he let his arms fall on his sides, exasperated.

"What friend? You don't have any friends", Dean mocked.

"I do, actually. This is Maisie", he extended the crumpled photo to Dean. It showed a younger Sam during his Stanford era, standing next to Jessica and another girl, whom Sam was pointing at. "I met her in college. She's graduating now, so she invited me over for a party at her house. She knows we’re in California".

Dean looked at the picture with growing interest. The younger version of Sam was smiling in the photo, with Jessica standing between him and the other girl. Sam had his arm around Jess’ shoulders, and the girl had her arm linked with the blonde’s. They were all smiling. Maisie, Sam said that was the girl’s name. She had brown hair, styled in a pixie cut that gave her an edgy look. Her big, rounded eyes were brown too. Her cheeks were flushed and her captivating smile reached her eyes. It wasn’t a full body picture, but Dean could tell the girl was short, because Jessica was way taller than her.

"She's cute”, he elbowed Sam. “Is she single?”

"Dude, no. She has a boyfriend, but he’s a douchebag. His name’s Eric and they met in Stanford too". Sam shrugged, making a disgusted face.

"Huh. And what's so special about her that makes you want to go to her party?". Dean crossed his arms in front of his chest, ready to hear the answer.

"Maisie’s the nicest girl, Dean. She introduced me to Jess. They were friends first, I met her and then it was the three of us against the world”, Sam smiled, reminiscing about a special time of his life. “I miss her a lot. Remember I went to a friend’s parents’ funeral, like, two years ago? It was her mom and dad. Poor girl’s been through hell. Also… she knows about what we do", Sam said, grimacing and lowering his voice, as if he was confessing a crime.

"What?", Dean was surprised with the fact that Sam told someone about their biggest secret.

"I helped her with a witch once. She hid hex bags all over Maisie’s dorm. That’s how we met, actually. So I ended up telling her", he shrugged.

"Oh, well, one day you’re gonna have to tell me the whole story of the witch of Stanford. Anyways, I didn't know you were still in touch with people from college", Dean stated.

Sam sighed. "Actually, Maisie’s the only one I still talk to. But, look, Dean, if you don't wanna go, fine. I’ll go alone".

"Wait, who said I don't wanna go? Of course I wanna go! Hot chicks and free booze? When do we leave?", said Dean, rubbing his hands together and grinning.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head.

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The first time Dean saw her in person, he won’t forget either.

He and Sam arrived at Maisie’s when it was just getting dark. Her house was small but cozy looking, and the path leading to the spacious backyard was decorated with hanging light bulbs. Dean could hear voices and the clink of glasses, along with some music, coming from the back.

“This is the house her parents left for her”, Sam explained.

“How did they die?”, Dean asked, closing the Impala’s door and walking to his brother’s side.

“Car accident. Pretty awful”, Sam shook his head, pausing when he saw someone coming from the end of the lighted path as they stepped on the entryway.

Having heard the sound of the car, Maisie came to check. Dean was right: she was short. He found it cute. Her face lit up when she saw Sam and, as the old friends hugged, he couldn’t help but notice her toned, thick legs. She was wearing a light green summer dress with little white flowers drawn all over it, matched with a pair of white Chuck Taylors.

Don’t know why, but I already like everything about her, Dean thought, watching the girl with growing interest.

"I'm so glad you're here, Sam!", Maisie greeted, holding the younger Winchester’s hand.

"I'm glad to be here too, Maisie. Congratulations!", Sam gave her another quick side hug, making the girl smile grow wider.

"Thanks! I'm a lawyer now, so you know who to call if you ever need one", she winked at him, hinting at their little secret.

"Well, if he doesn't call you, I certainly will", Dean interrupted the friends’ conversation, since Sam hadn’t introduced him yet.

"Oh, sorry, this is my brother Dean. Dean, this is Maisie", Sam said, finally.

"Nice to meet you, Maisie", Dean shook her hand, eyes taking in her beautiful, soft features.

"Nice to meet you too, Dean. Sam told me a lot about you", she said, remembering all the times Sam mentioned his brother, always with love and admiration.

The feeling of Dean’s warm, big hand around hers brought a sense of security she hadn’t felt in a while. Even if she didn’t know he was Sam’s brother, Dean would be a person she would trust immediately. He just had that aura.

"Only good things, I hope", Dean joked, winking at her. He deliberately let his fingers linger a little, the softness of her skin drawing him in.

"Oh, yeah! You’re the best brother ever, apparently", she shot back, earning a grin from him.

"He's right about that", was Dean’s reply, and it made Maisie laugh. She didn’t think she’d ever met someone as handsome as Sam’s brother. He looked like he came directly from the pages of a magazine, a Hollywood movie or something. In his jeans and a worn-out oversized leather jacket, he was simply stunning. She couldn’t help but avert his piercing gaze, feeling suddenly shy with the intensity of it.

"So, Maisie, where's Eric?", Sam asked. Not that he cared about the guy; he was just asking because he knew Eric from before. It would be weird not to ask.

"Oh, he- uh, he had a work thing, so-", she tried to explain, tugging an invisible strand of hair behind her ear, nervously.

"He didn’t come", Sam finished, incredulous. Even though he was already familiar with the way Eric seemed to undervalue the important moments of Maisie’s life, he couldn’t help but hope the guy had finally changed.

Her eyes became teary, and Dean hated seeing her like this.

Noticing Dean’s gaze, she recomposed herself, chuckling humorlessly. "Yeah, you guessed it right. But it doesn’t matter, I’ve already dealt with that”. Without giving any more details, she clapped her hands together and looked from one brother to another, shoving the resentment over Eric’s actions down. “So, you guys want some beer?", she pointed over her shoulder to the inside of the house.

"I'm fine for now, thanks. I'm gonna go say hi to the rest of the gang", answered Sam, looking over his shoulder to the corner of the house, where he could see some of his old classmates among Maisie's guests hanging out in the backyard.

"I'll take that beer", said Dean. Not only he never said no to a beer before, but he also hoped to spend some time with her. For some reason, he took an immediate liking to Maisie. She seemed very nice. And she was pretty.

"Great! Come with me", she said, turning and gesturing for him to follow.

Once inside, Dean noticed right away that the outside of the house gave a perfectly good idea of how the inside looked. The place was cozy, small and neat. He didn’t remember ever being in a typical countryside home, but he was pretty sure it would look somewhat like Maisie’s home, maybe a little bigger.

He looked around while she opened the fridge and grabbed two bottles, opening them, giving one to Dean and leaning against the kitchen counter. When she led the bottle to her lips, Dean noticed that her right hand was bandaged.

"What happened to your hand, if you don't mind me asking?", he questioned, taking a sip of the cold beverage.

"Oh, I hurt it while I was hanging the lights. The ones at the entrance. Eric was supposed to help me but, as you know, he didn’t show up, so…", she left the sentence incomplete, shrugging as if it was nothing, but Dean could tell she was upset about it.

"It seems like your boyfriend is not very… present", he commented, trying to take it easy on his disapproving tone, but failing to do it.

"Yeah, you can say that", Maisie replied, her voice barely audible.

“Sorry about that”, Dean said and approached her, gently holding her hand and looking at the bandage, just to make sure she dressed the wound properly.

The girl felt her heart racing. She knew Dean and Sam got hurt a lot. Their job was scary and dangerous, so Dean was probably just seeing if she had taken good care of the wound. But that was exactly what made her heart skip a couple of beats. I mean, how sweet is it that he barely knows me and is being so nice already?, she thought.

Maisie felt an urge to get closer to him, to open her heart and let him in. The last time she did that was with Eric, and it hasn’t worked well. But, somehow, she knew Dean was different.

“I wish that was the worst thing he’d done”, she said, more to herself than to Dean.

“Sorry?”, Dean raised his head, still holding her hand.

“E- Eric, I mean. He also didn’t come to my parents’ funeral’, she explained, knowing it was too late to ask Dean to let it go. Might as well finish what I’ve started.

"Wow. I'm sorry, but that's fucked up, Maisie". A mixture of anger and pity, that was what Dean was feeling. Maisie was a good person, based on what Sam said. And even if she weren’t, what kind of boyfriend doesn't go to his girlfriend's parents' funeral?

"I'm sorry, Dean. I- I don't know why I said that out loud", she took her injured hand away from his and placed the tips of her fingers on her temples, rubbing lightly. She didn’t want his pity. She wasn’t sure of why she shared that particular story with him, but she was regretting it now.

"No, it's fine. It's not okay that he wasn't there. Or that he ain't here", he added, standing by her side and leaning against the counter too.

"Yeah. But it’s ok. Thanks for saying that, though. Should we go outside?", she asked and forced a smile, deciding it was best to enjoy the night and forget about things that weren’t as good as she wanted.

Dean shrugged. "I wouldn't mind staying here talking to you for a bit more, but yeah, let's go".

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Another thing Dean would never forget was how easy and fun that night was.

Most of it was because of Maisie. She was such a good hostess, always making sure people were comfortable, well fed and with their cups full.

Her guests involved some friends and former colleagues, along with two cousins; no more than a dozen people. Everyone was nice and friendly, and Dean could tell Sam was enjoying being amongst people he knew outside the hunting world. For a moment, his mind wandered: how would life be if they were normal, 20-something dudes? Would they go to a lot of parties? Would Sam and Jess be married by now?

Despite the wandering thoughts, Dean was having fun too. Maisie included him in every conversation. He was the outsider, after all. She sat by his side and touched his hand and arm often, not letting him close himself off or feel intimidated by the group of Stanford’s nerds, as she was calling her friends, which made Dean chuckle.

As the night went on, Dean felt more and more drawn to her. Hell, he knew getting involved with someone who was in what it seemed like a complicated relationship was the fastest way to walk right into a huge problem. But he couldn’t care less this time. He wanted Maisie, and he had a feeling she might want him too.

So Dean flirted with her a few times, trying not to be too obvious. He didn’t want her thinking he was just trying to get laid, because he wasn’t. His first goal was to make her feel wanted and valued. He had a feeling Eric didn’t do that very often.

When the pizzas she'd ordered arrived, he got up from his seat and offered to help bringing them to the backyard.

"Thanks, Dean", she smiled at him, accepting the offer and assessing his face, trying to understand why he was being so nice.

"No worries, sweetheart".

The endearment made her blush. Maisie was finding it hard to believe Dean was real. He was too handsome for his own good. From the freckled skin to the dark blonde hair and the green eyes, he was damn perfect. Plus, he was funny and nice to everyone. She was fascinated with him.

Deciding she might as well enjoy the attention she wasn’t used to getting, she hooked her arm in his and led him to the front yard, where the delivery guy was waiting.

They grabbed the pizzas and went inside the house again. Dean waited while Maisie was looking for some paper plates.

“Ugh”, she complained, getting on her tiptoes so she could search inside a high cupboard, “I could’ve sworn those plates were somewhere in here”.

Smiling at her efforts to reach a door that was way too high for her height, Dean walked to her, extending his arm and easily retrieving the plates and handing them to Maisie.

She smiled and crossed her arms in front of her chest, which made Dean stare at her boobs for like two seconds. He couldn’t really help himself. She didn’t seem to notice, and was faking annoyance with the fact that he was so much taller than her.

“That was a little humiliating, Winchester, but thanks for the help”, she joked, taking the plates and patting his arm lightly.

He laughed. “Sure. What kind of man would I be if I saw a pretty lady in distress and had done nothing about it?”, Dean teased a little more, making her smile widen.

“What a gentleman!”, Maisie shook her head, motioning for him to follow her outside.

In the backyard, they placed the pizzas on a table at the corner and Maisie gave each guest a plate, inviting them to help themselves to the food. She and Dean grabbed a slice each and went back to sit at their previous chairs.

“Tell me, Dean”, she started, after swallowing a considerably big bite of her slice, “how are you single?”.

He stared at her with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong”, she continued, noticing he was surprised with the sudden question. “You’re a nice, smart guy. You have a cool car - yes, I’ve seen her when you guys arrived, and Sam told me all about your Baby -,” she added when he smiled, pleased to know she noticed his most beloved possession, “and you’re obviously very good looking. And yet, you’re here, hanging out with your brother’s friend, in a party full of Law school nerds. Why aren’t you out there, at some cool bar, flirting with some tall, busty blonde?”. Maisie shook her head, honestly trying to find some explanation for why Dean was there, at her house, where he could literally be fooling around with any woman in town.

Dean chuckled, and Maisie found it cute how his ears turned red when she complimented him.

“Well, first of all, thanks. Second of all, don’t think so little of yourself. Sam told me you know what we do for a living”, he whispered the last part, getting closer to her, and his hot breath formed goosebumps on her skin. “So you also know we don’t usually go to normal parties. Fuck, who am I kidding? We never go to any party, period. That being said, it’s been fun hanging out with you and your friends. Especially with you. It’s nice to talk about normal stuff, being around normal people”, he shrugged, and she could see he was being honest. Maisie felt sorry for him. He had to face so many scary, dangerous things, and could never enjoy a break, something as simple as eating pizza and drinking beer with friends in the backyard.

“Also”, he continued talking, bringing her back from her thoughts, “I had my time with busty blondes in bars. Now I prefer to hang out with pretty girls who happen to have good taste in beer”. Dean winked at her, biting at his lower lip, gaze switching from her eyes to her lips, making Maisie feel her insides clench.

Damn, he’s hot, she thought.

“So, I guess the reason why I’m single, aside from the life I live, I mean, is that all the beautiful girls who just graduated are stuck with jerks for boyfriends”.

Maisie laughed, finding his unashamed flirtation amusing.

“I said you’re nice, smart and handsome, but I forgot the most important part: you’re funny too!”, she exclaimed, playfully punching his arm.

He smiled back, and she shook her head, looking down and becoming serious again.

“I broke up with Eric, Dean”, Maisie confessed, surprising Dean.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Earlier today, before you and Sam arrived, I texted him, because everyone else was already here, except for Eric. He texted me back ‘can’t make it, stuck at work’”, she chuckled, humorlessly. “The bastard didn’t even say he was sorry. So I paid him the same respect he paid me. I texted back, saying he shouldn’t bother showing up ever again, that I didn’t wanna see his face and it was all over between us. He never answered”, Maisie finished, taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this, Maisie. But, for what’s worth, I think you did the right thing. He doesn’t deserve you”, Dean stated, green eyes staring into her dark ones, the intensity of his stare making her heart race.

“Our relationship was over way before today, to be honest. But thanks for saying that, Dean”.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart”.

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Around 11:30 P.M., people started to leave. Sam, Dean and one of Maisie’s cousins were the only ones still there.

Maisie was leaning against the table, chatting with her cousin and stealing glances at Sam and Dean. They were helping her put all the trash that was scattered around the backyard in a bag. Dean noticed she told something to the girl and pointed her chin in their direction, walking towards them a second later, towing the cousin by the girl’s hand.

“Sam”, Maisie called, making Sam get up from where he was crouched, picking up some plastic cups and dirty napkins from the floor.

“Can you do me a favor and drive Betty home? She lives on the other side of town with our aunt Theresa, who’s an old lady and can’t be alone for too long. Would you give her a ride, please, so she doesn’t have to wait for a cab?”, Maisie explained.

“Of course!”, Sam agreed immediately, looking at Dean, who was already fishing the car keys from the front pocket of his jeans. They both noticed that Maisie asked for Sam to give Betty a ride home, and not Dean, so she obviously wanted him to stay.

Sam caught the keys Dean tossed at him, and Dean watched the corners of his mouth turn up into a smirk. Sam didn’t say anything, but he knew his older brother well, and he also knew Maisie. He’d noticed their behavior the whole night and how they got along. Him driving Maisie’s cousin to the other side of town was the perfect excuse for them to be alone.

After Sam left with Betty and they were done cleaning up, Dean tied the trash bag and placed it on the side of the house. Maisie was waiting for him at the backdoor, holding some leftover pizza and the paper plates that weren’t used.

They both entered the small kitchen and Dean leaned against the counter, watching while she silently put everything back in its place.

"So", he started, getting her attention, "that was a good party".

"Thanks", Maisie replied, smiling. "I'm glad you guys came. I mean, I finally got to meet the famous Dean Winchester", she joked, that beautiful blush rising on her cheeks again.

He chuckled, lowering his head and scratching his neck. Maisie only knew Dean for a few hours and she already noticed the gesture meant he was nervous. She found it cute.

"Don't know about the famous part, but I'm glad I got to know you too", he stated while she walked to lean on the counter by his side.

"Yeah? What is it about me that made you glad to be here?", she asked, looking up at him through her thick lashes.

Dean decided to go along with her flirting. She was hot, sexy in a very particular way. She was small, with thick legs, wide hips and a round, ample ass. Her short hair made her look younger than she actually was, and the big rounded eyes added to it. All of that only added to the fact that she was sweet, kind, and funny.

“Huh, let’s see. You’re pretty impressive. I mean, you went through with college, became a lawyer, despite all the shit that happened in your life”, he pondered. “That alone is already awesome. Also ‘cause you’re obviously important to Sam. He wouldn’t come to anyone’s party. Thanks for being a good friend to my brother, by the way”. Dean took her injured hand in his, rubbing her fingers lightly with his thumb.

“You’re welcome”, she said in a low voice. “He’s a great dude”.

“Yeah, he is”, Dean agreed, the pride obvious in his tone. “Oh, how I wish all Sammy’s friends were as easy on the eyes as you are”, he shook his head and tsked, as if he was stating something very, very serious and upsetting.

That made her laugh out loud. She came closer to him, still chuckling, and raised her head to stare into his beautiful green eyes. Dean placed one hand on her cheek, thumb caressing her soft skin, while he kept the other hand on the counter, caging Maisie between his body and the furniture.

Her stare went to his lips and back to his eyes in a quick, almost imperceptible movement. She wanted to kiss him so badly. Her heart was racing, pounding against her chest.

She stood on her tiptoes to reach his face, and Dean slid his hand to the small of her back, supporting her and bringing her close to his body, when-

The sound of a loud honk startled them both, pulling them out of their lust haze.

“What the hell-?”, Maisie cursed, walking to the front door to see who was making such a loud noise that late at night.

Dean followed her to see a blue Prius parked in front of her house. The driver’s door opened widely and a guy got out of the car, stumbling.

“Eric?”, Maisie exclaimed, wide-eyed. “What the hell are you doing here? I told you not to come!”, she said while walking to him, doing her best to keep her voice down and not wake up the neighbors.

The guy came tripping on his own feet, raising his hands as a peace offering. “I know, darling, I saw your text. But I wanted to apologize. I was such a fool-”

“No, no, no”, Maisie interrupted him, raising her own hand to stop Eric mid-speech. “I won’t accept your apology this time, Eric. Just- just go home. You’re obviously drunk, I’m gonna call you a cab”, she turned her back to him, wanting to go inside the house and make the call, but he grabbed her arm, making her stop.

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me, bitch!”, he yelled, his grip making it impossible for her to free herself of his hold.

“Let go of me!”, Maisie demanded, turning around and trying to pull her arm, but he grabbed the other one, yanking her closer.

“I won’t let you break up with me!”, he screamed, his face contorting in a mug.

Everything was happening so fast. Maisie tried to take a step back and kick Eric between his legs, but Dean was faster; her was by her side in a second, shoving Eric away and putting himself between the drunk man and Maisie.

“Get away from her, asshole!”, he threatened, pointing a finger to Eric’s face, his other hand splayed on the guy’s chest to stop him from getting to Maisie.

“And who the hell are you?”, Eric questioned, in a drunk drawl, looking from Dean to Maisie, who was rubbing her arms where he had left red marks on her fair skin.

“Doesn’t matter who I am, she asked you to leave, so leave!”, Dean pushed him again, making Eric stumble in the direction of the parked car.

“Oh, so you’re fucking her? Just ‘cause I didn’t come to her stupid party with her stupid nerd friends, she’s already spreading her legs to another dude? I always knew you were a slut!”, Eric spat on the driveway, turning around and running to his car when Dean got closer to him, ready to throw a punch.

“Let him go, Dean. He’s not worth it”, Maisie asked, placing a hand on his back, and Dean stopped.

“Jackass”, Dean said while the other man cowardly drove away, tires screeching.

Dean turned around and went to her, placing his hands on her shoulders and assessing the bruises in both her arms. “Jesus Christ, Maisie, he hurt you. Are you ok?”.

“I’m- I’m ok. God, Dean, he’s super drunk. He’s gonna kill himself in that car”, Maisie said, worried. Tears were running freely down her face.

Dean was much more worried about her than about that piece of crap. But he understood her concern, and didn’t want Maisie to be even more stressed out than she already was.

“Let’s go inside and call the police, sweetheart. We can let them know there’s a drunk dude driving around”, he offered, and she accepted, leaning into his embrace.

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Fifteen minutes later, they had talked to the police and reported Eric. Maisie refused to go to a police station and file a report on his assault. Dean argued, but she promised it was all over between them, that she wouldn’t let Eric be anywhere near her again.

“Besides, he’s probably gonna be arrested for DUI anyways”, she shrugged, not at all feeling sorry for her ex-boyfriend’s future problems with the police.

So Dean made her a cup of tea and they sat on the couch, him helping her put some ice on her bruised arms.

“You sure you’re ok?”, he asked for what had to be the tenth time.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine”, she answered, sniffing.

Dean watched her closer, just to make sure she wasn’t hiding anything.

“Hey, Maisie. Let me ask you something”, he started, and she nodded, signaling he could go ahead. “Has he ever- was he ever violent with you- before?”

She shook her head, but the fresh wave of tears in her eyes told Dean there was a “but” coming. “H-he broke a glass once, when he was really drunk, like today. We argued for the same reason: he wasn’t around when I needed him. I called him out for it, he got mad and threw a glass against the wall. But he never- put his hands on me like this before”, she explained.

Dean slid closer to her, gently catching her tears with his fingertips. “Good. I was afraid it wasn’t the first time he hurt you”.

“Yeah, no, he’s never done that before. Just, you know, didn’t show up, cheated on me and stuff like that”, she shrugged and rolled her eyes like it wasn’t a big deal.

“He cheated on you? Just when I thought he couldn’t be a bigger pile of shit”, Dean shook his head, jaw clenching.

She sighed deeply before answering. “He cheated once, that I know of. And I was stupid enough to forgive him and let him come back”.

“But- I mean, don’t get me wrong here, but… why haven’t you told him to fuck off then?”

Maisie chuckled at Dean’s question. “I guess I was so used to having him around… I mean, we started dating in my first year of college. Things were good between us, as far as I know, except for one or two things here and there. Then, my parents died and he didn’t come to their service. We had an argument that day, and it was the first time I thought about breaking up with him. My friends warned me, Sam included, but I was so scared of being alone, Dean”, she confessed, looking him in the eyes for the first time in a while. “I had just lost the two most important people in my life. I had no close family around, aside from Betty and aunt Theresa. I didn’t wanna lose Eric too, so I thought I should forgive him, make an effort on behalf of our relationship. It was stupid of me, I know”, she finished, covering her face with her hands, regretting her past decision.

“Hey, hey, no”, Dean called, reaching for her, circling her shoulders with one arm so he could give her a side hug. Maisie melted, leaning her cheek on his chest and exhaling a shaky sigh.

He kissed the top of her head, running his hand up and down her back. “You did nothing wrong. Sorry if my question made you think you did. It’s just- you’re such a great girl. I was having a hard time understanding why you were with a guy like him. But I see it now. I know it sucks to feel alone, like you have no one to be your home. I hope you know you don’t need him, Mais”.

Dean parted from her and placed his large hand on her chin, lifting her face up to look her in the eyes. “You’re beautiful, funny, smart, and you have friends all around that love you, sweetheart”, he caressed her jawline with his thumb, the rough pads of his fingers sending a shiver down her spine.

“I like when you say that”, she confessed, smiling under the tears.

Dean raised his eyebrows at her. “When I say what?”, he asked with a mischievous smirk.

“When you call me sweetheart. And ‘Mais’. Nobody ever called me that. I like the nickname. And I like hearing you say ‘sweetheart’”, she blushed furiously, to Dean’s amusement.

“Oh, good to know it makes you blush so prettily”, Dean teased, taking her hand in his and intertwining their fingers. He led their joined hands to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly, those green eyes never leaving her face.

Maisie’s teary eyes darkened. She wanted him so badly it was overwhelming, but it wasn’t the right moment.

“Dean, I-”

“Sorry”, he interrupted, letting go of her hand and running his fingers through his hair, spiking the soft strands even more. “I just thought- that you and I-”.

“Dean, hear me out”, she placed a finger over his plump lips, effectively shushing him. “I want this to happen, whatever this is, between you and me. I want… to get to know you. If you want to, that is. But I need to make sure it has nothing to do with Eric. With me being in need of comfort, or company, or about you protecting me from him - which I’m thankful for, by the way. I broke up with him and I’m fine with that, ready to forget all about him. Still, I need some time to gather my thoughts, to really understand how I’m feeling, what I’m feeling”, she paused there, grabbing her mug from the coffee table and taking a sip of tea. “I’m probably being so ridiculous right now, but I… I felt something for you the minute I saw you, Dean”, she gulped, scared about how he would react to her confession. If Maisie wasn’t always so rational, she would’ve probably taken things further with Dean that night. But she couldn’t do that. It wasn’t fair with either of them. Still, she knew, in her heart and mind, that she’d never met anyone who made her feel like that before.

Adorably, his ears turned red again. “Bashful” wasn’t an adjective she would use to describe Dean right away - especially because he flirted with her two minutes after they met. But she could already tell he was a complex character, and that was another thing about Sam’s older brother that drew her to him.

“I understand. I also felt something when I saw you earlier today… actually, when Sam showed me a picture of you, I was like ‘damn, she’s gorgeous’”, he revealed, grinning, and Maisie blushed with the compliment.

“Thank you, Dean. That’s very nice of you to say”, she replied, placing her hand over his on the couch. He turned his palm up and laced their fingers again.

“It’s true, though”, he shrugged, and they just sat there for a few minutes, staring at their joined hands until the sound of Dean’s phone made them jump slightly.

He got the phone from the coffee table. “Sam wants to know if he should come back to pick me up”, Dean read the text, looking up at Maisie with a questioning look.

She stared back at him with those big, doe eyes, and he immediately knew he should stay. Understandably, she wasn’t very comfortable with being alone.

“So, is it ok if I stay?”, Dean asked, making sure he got her right.

“I- I can’t ask more from you, Dean. You’ve done so much for me today-”

“No, no, no”, he interrupted, squeezing her hand in reassurance, “I’d rather stay, if that’s ok with you. I’ll feel better knowing you’re ok. I’ll tell Sam to go back to the motel and pick me up in the morning”. Dean smiled and Maisie smiled back, relieved.

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“I can sleep on the couch, you know”, Dean said for the second time, while walking behind Maisie.

“No way, I have a guest room. I mean, it’s not much, it’s just the room that used to be mine, since now I sleep in the room that was my parents’”, she explained, opening the door and entering her former bedroom.

Three walls were painted in a pale lilac, while the fourth one, behind the bed, was purple. The marks on the painting signaled that there were posters or pictures glued there, probably from Maisie’s teenage years.

It was a spacious room with a big, comfy bed. Dean couldn’t even remember the last time he slept in one of those. He was glad for the comfort, but wished the circumstances were different. He wished Maisie didn’t need to be kept safe from a piece of crap like Eric.

“You think you’re gonna be ok in here?”, she interrogated, interrupting his thoughts.

“Hell, yeah”, he said, walking to the bed. “Sweetheart, if you saw the places Sam and I usually crash… this is a freaking palace!”

Maisie chuckled. “Good. There’s some blankets in the closet and towels, if you wanna shower. I’m gonna go to bed now. My room is next door, so just knock if you need something, ok? And make yourself at home”, she said, opening her arms and approaching to give Dean a hug.

“Sleep tight, sweetheart. I’ll be fine”.

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The first time they shared a bed was forever ingrained into Dean’s brain.

Dean woke up with a knock on his door. He listened for a second, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming or imagining things.

Then he heard the knock again, followed by Maisie’s voice calling his name almost in a whisper. “Dean, can I come in?”

He sat up on the bed and told her to come in. She immediately opened the door, looking scared and pale.

“What’s wrong?”, Dean asked, patting on the bed by his side, signaling for her to sit.

“I- I had a nightmare, Dean”, she sat and he could see she was shaking. He held her cold hand, listening attentively. “He- he came for me again. I- I don’t wanna… Can I stay with you?”, she asked, looking up at him with tears in her beautiful eyes.

“Of course. Of course, sweetheart. Come here”, he said, laying on the bed and stretching his arm for her to fit by his side. She lifted the covers and laid down with her head against his chest, legs slotted close to his.

Dean engulfed her in his warmth, noticing she looked even shorter laying by his side, scared and vulnerable. He silently cursed Eric for making her feel like this.

Placing his arm around her waist, he pulled her closer, lips slightly brushing the top of her head.

“It’s gonna be ok, Maisie. I won’t let anything happen to you”.

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Dean didn’t know what woke him up the next morning. But, before even opening his eyes, he felt a warm, soft body against his. His mind filled the blanks in seconds, reminding him of everything that happened the day before, and how he ended up being someone’s big spoon.

Opening his eyes slowly, he didn’t dare to move an inch. His left arm was around Maisie’s waist, fingers laced with hers once more while she held his hand against her stomach. Somehow, both of her legs were trapped between his, slightly bended knees making her perfectly round butt fit to his front, enticingly close to his crotch.

Well, now he was very awake. Every inch of his body was fully awake. He wasn’t exactly used to waking up with a woman in his arms. It happened before, obviously, but he usually didn’t sleep, sleep with them. They would do the deed and he would leave. Or they would. So, yeah, Dean was finding it hard (pun intended) to know what to do to keep that sweet, sweet woman from thinking he was a perv.

He took his time appreciating the sensual curve of Maisie’s neck, her round, soft shoulders, and the dip of her waist, leading to her ample hips.

Behave, man. A voice in his head, that sounded remarkably like Sam’s, scolded him.

A few minutes passed and Dean remained still, listening to Maisie’s deep breaths. And then she started slowly moving, slowly waking up from what he hoped had been a restful sleep.

“Hmm”, she hummed, stretching her body and consequently pushing it closer to Dean’s.

“Morning”, he greeted, holding his breath.

“Morning”, Maisie replied in a cute, sleepy voice. “Sorry for invading your personal space”, she continued, gently trying to untangle from him.

“No need to apologize. I enjoyed it a lot”, he affirmed, smiling when she turned her neck to look at him.

“Me too. Thank you for staying, Dean”, she said, reaching to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Anytime, sweetheart”.

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The first time they kissed was totally unexpected.

They had breakfast together and Sam came to pick Dean up at around 10 AM.

Dean had promised Maisie they would come back to visit her as soon as possible, and made her promise to call and text so he would know she was ok. He also told her he planned to go to the police station and check if the cops really got to Eric.

Maisie walked him to the door when they heard the Impala’s honk.

“Ok, so I made you guys sandwiches for the trip, and some extra coffee”, she handed Dean a paper bag with the food, which he gladly accepted. “I also want to give you something else, as a thank you”.

“You don’t have to thank me, Mais-”, Dean started, but she interrupted by standing on her tiptoes and kissing on the lips, taking him by surprise. He quickly recovered, placing a hand on her cheek, deepening the kiss a little and guiding her into it, sliding his lower lip over hers and lightly sucking it.

When they separated, she was flushed. “Wow. You were the one who was supposed to win the prize, but I guess I was the lucky one”, Maisie smiled, lips tingling.

“I hope this is enough to convince you to let me come back…”, Dean said, scratching his neck.

“I cannot wait for you to come back. Now, let’s go so I can say goodbye to Sam”, she held his hand and guided him through the door in the direction of the Impala, parked on the street.

Dean was already missing her. It was hard for him to explain even to himself, but he wanted to protect Maisie, to keep her safe. At the same time, her fierceness and determination, the way she held her head up high, showing everyone she could kick their asses, Dean’s included, made him want to push her against the nearest wall and have his way with her in a not-so-sweet manner.

One thing Dean was sure of: he wanted more of that. More of her. He didn’t know when he was coming back, but he had every intention to keep his promise. He hoped his crazy life would allow him.

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38 days later

When came back, things didn’t go the way he expected.

“Hey, Sammy”.

“Yeah”.

“So, I texted Maisie yesterday and asked if we could visit her. We’re done with this job and it’s not far from her. She said yes and invited us for lunch. Is that ok with ya?” Dean questioned without taking his eyes off the road.

“Sure”, the younger Winchester replied, proceeding to look at his brother with a smirk. “So you and Maisie have been in touch since you met her, huh?”

Dean glanced at him and shrugged. “Yeah, I mean… I was there when everything with Eric The Douchebag happened, so I kept checking to make sure she’s ok. Is that a problem?”, he challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“Not at all”, Sam’s smirk got wider. “But if you like her, you can tell me, you know?”, he provoked, knowing Dean would straight away deny having feelings for the girl.

“What? I don’t like her like that!”, was Dean’s immediate answer, earning a chuckle from Sam.

“But why wouldn’t you like her? Is there something wrong with her?”, the younger brother continued, pushing Dean’s buttons and knowing he would end up telling the truth.

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with her. She’s- she’s hot, funny, smart. She has great style, and she smells so good, man, and those big-”

“Ok, ok, ok!”, Sam interrupted, immediately regretting making Dean talk. “TMI, man. Let’s just go have lunch with Maisie”.

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3 hours later

When the Impala entered Maisie’s street, the Winchesters saw the police car and the ambulance parked in front of her house. Their hunter senses immediately went on full alert.

“Oh, fuck”, cursed Dean, parking on the other side of the street and taking the fake FBI badge Sam was already handing to him.

They both got out of the car and Dean was the first one to spot Maisie sitting on the back of the ambulance, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders while a paramedic finished assessing a cut on the left side of her forehead.

“You go check on her, I’ll talk to the cops”, said Sam, and Dean nodded, walking in the direction of the injured woman.

“Maisie”, he called while approaching the vehicle, his heart racing from both worry and relief to see she didn’t look seriously hurt.

“Dean!”, she exclaimed, getting up and throwing herself in his arms. Thankfully, that was the exact moment when the paramedic finished placing the dressing on her cut, otherwise she would have knocked the poor man out of the way.

“Sweetheart, what happened?”, he asked, hugging her tight and caressing her hair.

Maisie started crying the minute Dean finished his question.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, you don’t have to say anything. I’m here now, Sam’s here. I- We won’t let anything happen to you”, he shushed while she sobbed.

Dean took her hand and led her back to sit in the ambulance. Maisie was crying too much to speak anyways, so he looked at the paramedic, the silent question of what had happened evident on his concerned features.

“She was knocked out. Luckily, she was fast enough to dial 911 first, so they were able to get the guy on his way out. She’s gonna be fine. Just make sure she gets some rest and changes the dressing tomorrow, okay?”, the man explained, and Dean nodded and thanked him.

He didn’t need any further explanation to know who the guy who knocked her out was. Eric, for sure. Dean just knew from the way Maisie was acting, with how scared she looked. He felt rage rising inside his chest. He wanted to kill the motherfucker with his own hands. Break his teeth so he would learn how to behave like a decent person…

He kept holding Maisie in his arms and, as she started to calm down, Dean shoved his murderous thoughts down and directed his full attention to her.

“What do you wanna do, sweetheart? Do you wanna wait for the cops to finish with your house and go inside? Or do you wanna go somewhere else?”

“So- somewhere else, Dean, p-please. I don’t wanna go back in there. Not now”, she said between sobs.

Dean felt his heart breaking into a million pieces. If I get my hands on that bastard…

“Ok, let me just go tell Sam we’re going to a motel close to here, is that alright? Then you can shower and get some rest”, he questioned, looking into her brown eyes with gentleness and reassurance.

Maisie nodded and Dean placed a light kiss on her forehead. He walked to the front entrance of the girl’s house, where Sam was talking with two cops.

“Gentlemen”, he greeted. “Agent Perry, can I speak to you for a moment, please?”, he told Sam, using their fake FBI agents’ names.

The brothers walked away from the police officers, and Dean turned around to face Sam.

“I’m taking Maisie outta here, man. She doesn’t wanna stay. We’re going to that motel on the road that’s closer to here, the half-decent one. Did they tell you what the hell happened?”

“Yeah”, Sam let out a deep sigh and shook his head. “Eric broke in early in the morning, Maisie was still sleeping. He was drunk and screaming that they should get back together. She said no and told him to leave, so he started to lock all the doors and windows to stop her from escaping. The idiot was so drunk that he didn’t even realize she had her phone and was already dialing 911-”.

“That’s my girl”, Dean interrupted, proudly.

Sam chuckled. “Well, yeah, she was lucky they were fast, because when he came back to her room, he saw her putting the phone down and knocked her out with a plant vase. She passed out and the cops got him trying to escape on foot, just around the corner. He’s facing assault and breaking and entering charges. Considering he already has a record for DUI, he’s gonna be busy for a while”.

“Good. Good. Okay, so we’re leaving. Will you meet us at the motel once you’re done here?”, Dean asked, knowing Sam would take care of everything so he could be with Maisie.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead. I’ll see if I can have a little chat with Eric at the police station and tell him to stay the fuck away from Maisie, if he manages to get out of jail anytime soon”, Sam said.

“Thanks, brother. Give him your worst”.

Looking back at Maisie and seeing that the cops were asking her some more questions, Dean took the time to go inside and get her a change of clothes. He didn’t know exactly what she would like to wear, but he grabbed a pair of sweatpants, t-shirts and underwear, putting everything inside a bag.

He noticed the broken vase on the floor of her room, where the cops were working, photographing and cataloging the crime scene. Giving a deep sigh, he did his best to control that rage again. Sam would make sure to let Eric know he better stay away. Now, Dean had to focus on taking care of Maisie. That was the most important task.

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On their way to the motel, they stopped quickly at a diner so Dean could get some burgers for lunch. Maisie kept saying she wasn’t hungry, but he would try to convince her to eat, eventually.

At the motel’s front desk, he asked for two rooms: one with two single beds for him and Sam, and another with just one bed, for Maisie.

“Okay, honey, the two singles I can provide, but the only other room available is with a queen size bed, is that ok?”, the nice old lady at the front desk asked.

“Yeah, it’s fine”, Dean answered.

He paid, got the keys, and went back to the Impala, where Maisie was waiting for him.

“All set, sweetheart. Should we go inside?”, he questioned, leaning down to look through the passenger window.

She nodded and they entered the first room, hers, together.

It was simple but apparently clean, recently renovated even. Dean was glad for it.

“Ok, Mais. I brought you some clothes, I’m gonna leave them here in case you wanna change. What do you wanna do now? Eat? Shower? Sleep? Talk to me?”, he offered, not trying to pressure her, but knowing it was good to push her into moving, doing something, instead of sinking into fear and sadness.

“I’m- I think I’m gonna take a shower first. Would you wait for me here?”, she asked, face bloated and stained with tears.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’m only leaving if you tell me to”, he winked at her, making himself comfortable on a chair at the corner of the room.

Ten minutes later, Maisie left the bathroom in an oversized t-shirt that reached the middle of her thighs. Dean couldn’t help but look at her smooth legs.

“Alright, should I leave now, or…?”, he asked, standing up and awkwardly trying to focus on her face and not on the fact that she looked so good wearing so little clothing.

“No”, said Maisie, walking up to Dean and stopping him from leaving by putting a hand on his chest. “I want you to stay with me, Dean”.

He looked at her hand splayed on his chest and then into her face, his heavy breathing revealing his uneasiness.

Maisie looked into his eyes, her own glistening with tears. “Thank you, Dean, again, for being here for me”, she said, sliding her small hand from his chest to his forearm, the delicate touch making him bite his lower lip.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier to stop what happened this morning, I-“

“Hey”, she stopped him again, this time taking her hand to his cheek, enjoying the feeling of his stubble against her soft fingers, “There’s no way you could’ve known what would happen”. To Dean’s surprise, Maisie took a step closer to him, still caressing his face, leaving no space between their bodies. “I need to confess, Dean, that I’ve been thinking about you all the time since we’ve first met”, she tangled her fingers through the hair on the back of Dean’s neck, standing on her tiptoes and giving him a peck on the lips. “I’ve been thinking about how it would feel to be with you”, she continued, her lips a mere inch away from him, her warm breath pumping Dean’s blood right between his legs. “How it would be to have you so close, holding me, with nothing between us”. He felt her hardened nipples through her t-shirt and his, touching his abdomen. “What about you? Have you thought about me?”, she asked.

Once again, Dean’s resolution was hanging by a thread. Maisie was making very clear what she wanted, and Dean was torn between giving in to his own desire, and the small rational part of his brain telling him she was responding to trauma in an unhealthy way. “Every fucking second, sweetheart” he answered, honestly. The shine of lust in her eyes was what broke his attempt of being a better man. He held her face between his hand and leaned down, giving her a kiss that started tame, but then turned messy and full of want when he parted her lips with the tip of his tongue, making her moan into his mouth, responding with the same intensity.

Dean maneuvered them so he could sit on the bed and have her on his lap, legs around his waist. Running a hand over the smooth skin of her thigh, he stopped when his fingers were already under her t-shirt. Maisie pushed her breasts against his chest and sighed, while his lips went from her mouth to her collarbone, nibbling and sucking. She held his head as close as possible, trying everything to prevent him from stopping. Between her legs, she felt him hardening under his jeans, and she pressed herself further onto his lap.

“Fuck, Dean”, she moaned, and it woke him up from his arousal-induced trance.

“Mais. Maisie, we need to stop”, Dean asked, pulling away from her lips and closing his eyes to try to gather some self-control.

“Why?”, she asked, trying to capture his mouth in another kiss.

“‘Cause you’re not thinking straight”, Dean said. God knows how much he wanted to keep going. She smelled so good, she looked fantastic like that, freshly showered, with nothing on but her underwear and that oversized t-shirt. But he cared too much about her to take things further at that moment. She’d just been through a terrible trauma and, as a pro at avoiding feelings and acting like nothing wrong had happened, Dean knew exactly what she was doing.

“I don’t wanna think about anything, Dean”, she tried again, holding his plaid flannel by the collar and pushing it off of his shoulders.

“Ok, you don’t have to”, he insisted, gently taking her hands off of his shirt, getting up and sliding her body down to the bed.

Maisie felt ashamed. She hugged her knees and scooched up to lean against the headboard, embarrassed and humiliated by her behavior. Dean sat back next to her and gently caressed her cheek with his knuckles.

“Hey. It’s not that I don’t want you. You could feel how much I do, right?”, he said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a shy smile.

She raised her head to look at him with tears pooling in her eyes, and nodded almost imperceptibly, cheeks flushed.

“I want you so bad, sweetheart. I just don’t want you to regret this. Don’t do this to forget about what happened. Do this for you. Do you get what I’m trying to say?”, Dean asked, his other hand now placed protectively on her knee.

Maisie nodded again. “I’m- I’m sorry, Dean”, she said, and the tears started to run freely down her face.

“No, no, no, you have nothing to be sorry for”. He went closer to her, placing one arm around her shoulders. “Everything is gonna be fine, ok? Don’t worry”, he reassured, kissing the top of her head and pulling her to his chest. Maisie wrapped her arms around him, letting Dean’s warmth heal her wounds.

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It was already dark outside when Sam finally got to the motel. After their talk, Dean convinced Maisie to eat and she finally fell asleep.

Sam knocked on the door and Dean went outside to talk to him, trying to not disturb Maisie’s sleep.

“Hey, took you long enough”, Dean greeted. “How was it?”

Sam took a deep breath. He looked tired. “Well, the idiot wanted to give me an attitude, but I kept the FBI agent cover. I told him Maisie had friends in the Bureau, and if he tried something funny again I would make sure his ass would stay in jail forever. It also helped that I’m much taller than him”, he smirked, making Dean chuckle.

“Thanks, man. He actually deserves life in jail for what he put her through”, Dean stated, looking inside the room through a crack on the door.

“How is she doing?”, Sam asked, pointing to the room with his head.

“She’s… she’s ok, considering. I managed to get her to eat, but she didn’t want to talk about what happened, so I’m giving her some space. She’s asleep now. Here’s the key to the room next door. I’m gonna stay until Maisie wakes up. I don’t want her to find herself alone and think I left or something…”, Dean explained.

“Okay, yeah, you’re right. I’m gonna try and sleep a bit too. But call me if you guys need anything, ok?”, Sam assured and Dean agreed, going back inside the room.

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It was almost midnight when Maisie woke up. The first thing she did after opening her eyes was look for Dean. He was sitting in the chair at the corner of the room, soundly asleep. His head was leaning on his left shoulder in a way that would surely make his neck hurt like a son of a bitch later.

Maisie got up and went to him, gently shaking his arm.

“Dean? Wake up”.

“Huh?”, he groaned, immediately opening his eyes and sitting straight.

“Hey, didn’t wanna scare you. You should come to bed”, she said, noticing how cute he looked even groggy with sleep.

The barely-awake state didn’t stop Dean from noticing Maisie told him to come to bed and not to go to bed. But he didn’t want to assume anything.

“Well, Sam’s back, so I’m just gonna join him at the room next door”, he got up and rubbed his sleepy eyes.

Maisie averted his eyes and blushed. “I- I was hoping you would stay…”

“I can also do that”, Dean reassured, smiling at her. He didn’t want her to think he was trying to avoid her. He would definitely feel better staying and knowing he would be close in case she needed him. “I’m gonna make myself a bed next to you and-”

“No”, she held his arm, stopping him from going in the direction of the tiny closet next to the bathroom. “The bed is big enough for both of us”, she blushed deeper.

“Are you sure?”, Dean questioned.

“I’m sure, Dean. I’ll behave, I promise”, she joked, in an attempt to dismiss the lingering embarrassment.

“C’mon, I didn’t mean it like that”, Dean started. “I’m just trying to say you don’t have to worry about me, I’m fine sleeping on the floor”.

“But I’m not”, she shot back. “I’ll be fine if you sleep on the bed”. She would never feel comfortable asking him to stay and then make him sleep on the floor.

“Ok”, he said. “I’m just gonna wash my face and be back in a second then”.

Dean left the bathroom a few minutes later, holding his jeans, plaid shirt and belt on one hand. He was down to his black t-shirt and boxers in the same color. Maisie was already in bed, laying on her side, covers pulled up to her shoulders.

“Is it ok if I sleep in my underwear?”, he asked, leaving his clothes on the chair and walking to the opposite side of the bed.

“Of course”, she answered, trying to sound casual while not at all feeling like that.

Even though they had slept in the same bed at her house the first time they met, it was dark and Dean was under the covers, so she didn’t really have the chance to see him. This time though, she had a full view: strong, thick, slightly bowed legs, firm and round ass, beautiful forearms speckled with freckles, wide shoulders. Maisie felt a tug in her lower belly. If she was attracted to him before, now she was even more sure she wanted to have her way with the fine man that was Dean Winchester.

But Maisie closed her eyes and focused on falling asleep and, ideally, stay away from Dean. Maybe he was right and she did chose the wrong moment to make a move, but the feeling of rejection was still very present.

Feeling the bed dip and the covers move when Dean was laying down, she closed her eyes and was about to wish him a good night, when she felt his arm sneaking around her middle, pulling her closer. She gasped in surprise. They were close enough for her to feel his warm breath on her ear.

“Is that ok?”, Dean whispered. “I kinda like being your big spoon”.

“It’s perfect. Good night, Dean”, she answered, thinking she could get used to being wrapped in him.

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When the pair woke up the next morning, they had changed positions and were facing each other instead of spooning. Maisie’s arms were tucked to her front, against Dean’s chest, while his arm was over her hip.

Maisie was the first to open her eyes. Dean was sleeping peacefully, mouth slightly opened. A lump started to form in her throat when everything that had happened the day before came back to her memory. It seemed like ages ago, but the fear she felt when Eric broke into her house crept inside her, making her stomach drop with the thought of what could have happened if she didn’t act fast enough.

She took a deep breath and focused on Dean’s face. His perfect face. Her heart skipped a beat with the thought of kissing him. She knew she was falling in love with the guy. They literally talked every day since the day they met, and things with him just flowed easily, so uncompromising. The idea of being with someone who would be there for her was all she ever wished for.

When Dean stopped her from taking things further the day before, she understood that it looked like she wanted sex as a coping mechanism, but he was wrong. She really wanted him because of him, not because of Eric. The timing was bad, yeah, but she was sure about what she wanted. She still felt embarrassed though, especially because maybe she got it wrong and Dean didn’t want the same as she did.

As if he could hear her thinking, he started to slowly wake up. He opened his eyes a little and smiled when he saw her watching him.

“Hey”.

“Hey, you”, she replied in a whisper.

“How are you feeling?”, he asked, and Maisie held her breath when his fingers started to lightly caress her hip.

“I’m- I’m gonna be fine, I guess”.

“I know you will”, Dean reassured, and leaned forward to place a feathery kiss on the tip of her nose and a longer one on her lips. He wanted to show her he wasn’t against being intimate with her. God, no. It was actually the exact opposite. He really wanted them to be as intimate as possible. The thought had crossed his mind more times than he could count since they met. But he didn’t want their first time to have anything to do with her ex-boyfriend. He wanted to be more to her than a coping mechanism, and that thought was scaring him to death, because he had probably been a coping mechanism to multiple women. And, if he was being honest, they were his sometimes too. In his defense, he never promised any kind of commitment or long-term relationship to any of them. And that was always fine and fulfilling both for him and for the women, he made sure of that. But, with Maisie, he wanted more than one night. He wanted to keep coming back to her as much as she would allow him to.

She interrupted his thoughts by calling his name.

“What, sweetheart?”

“I’m sorry again about yesterday. I’m sorry if I crossed the line and moved too fast,-”, she started babbling, nervously looking anywhere but in his eyes, her anxious thoughts taking the best of her.

“Hey”, Dean placed his hand on her cheek softly. “You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to do. I really wanna be with you, Mais. But I want this to be right for us, for you. I need you to be sure this, us, has nothing to do with-”

It was her turn to stop him. “I understand, Dean. But yesterday was not a response to my trauma. I did what I did because I really, really like you. And, honestly…”, her voice broke, “I just need you to show me that there’s good and kindness in this world, not just loss, and pain, and loneliness-”

Dean didn’t let her finish. He placed his large hands on her cheeks and pulled her face closer, giving her a sensual open-mouthed kiss that took her breath away. Licking and tasting her thoroughly, he draw a throaty moan out of her. Once the kiss was over, Dean’s arm went around her waist, pushing her by the lower back so their bodies would get closer, giving her small pecks on the lips. Maisie’s hand was on his shoulder, and it descended to his bicep and his back, feeling the muscles moving under the freckled skin. She threw a leg over his hip, and Dean couldn’t hold back anymore.

“You sure about this, sweetheart?”,  he asked, plump lips now on the curve of her neck.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Now kiss me again", the girl demanded, rolling on her back and pulling him with her, lips already glued to his. He leaned over her, positioning himself on top and pulling her leg further up around his waist so he could fit between her thighs.

She pushed her hands under his t-shirt, running her fingers over his strong, firm body, while Dean’s lips were on her neck, his hands on her hips, slowly pulling her panties down. Maisie lifted her butt from the bed to help, and Dean threw the panties away without stopping kissing her.

“Take your shirt off, Dean”, she demanded, and he quickly obeyed. Maisie stared at him towering over her, his toned body looking godly under the dim lights of the room. “You’re so handsome”, she praised, stunned by the Winchesters genes.

Dean smirked and blushed shyly, having no time to reply once Maisie pulled him by the hem of his boxers to resume his previous position. The kissing was back on, and Dean pulled her oversized t-shirt off, leaving her fully naked.

Even though Maisie was not insecure about her body, Dean was staring at her so intently, in a way that the other guys in her life never did, as if he was memorizing her. It made her feel a little self-conscious.

"Dean? What’s wrong?", she asked, voice barely there, as if she was afraid of the answer. Maisie faced Eric’s judgement before and did her best to not be affected by it, but she wasn’t ready to hear any snark comments about her appearance at this vulnerable moment.

Dean’s chest was heaving and his eyes were taking in the woman laid down in front of him. Wetting his lower lip with the tip of his tongue and shaking his head lightly, he ran a hand from her waist to her under boob, pupils dilated. “Nothing’s wrong, I was just thinking… that Eric dude is so damn stupid".

“What?”, she furrowed her brows in surprise, not at all expecting him to bring up Eric when they were about to have sex.

"Look at you, Maisie. You look incredible. If you were mine, I would do anything to keep you", he kissed her then, lowering his body over hers until there was no space between them, his naked chest warm against hers.

Maisie’s heart skipped a beat with Dean’s words. Eric was never one to praise her in bed, or in any occasion, if she was being honest. With Dean, it was not only what he was saying, but also the fact that she could see the lust in his green eyes, in the way he was breathing, and from the hardness between his legs pressing against her center, making her wet.

She sneaked a hand between them, reaching for Dean’s boxers, rushing to have no barrier between them. As if he was again reading her thoughts, he guided her hand to the front of his underwear, pressing it against the outline of his hard cock. “You’re making me so hard, sweetheart”, he breathed, eyelids heaving as Maisie pulled the piece of clothing down his thighs, finally revealing his veiny, thick cock, to her sight.

“Can I touch you?”, she asked, placing her palm in his lower belly, feeling his muscles twitch under her touch.

“Yeah”, Dean answered, watching her every move.

She slid her hand down and closed her fist around his lengthy cock, caressing it, feeling it heavy and warm. “Fuck, Dean, you’re hot as fuck”.

He chuckled with the compliment. “Right back atcha, baby. Lemme touch you too”, Dean said, already running his hand on the inside of her thigh, fingers gently probing her center. She lowered her head to watch him use his fingers to spread her lips and gather the slick there, using it to lubricate his cock and make her hand slide easily on the length.

Maisie moaned with his touch, and Dean took it as an incentive to bring his hand back to her pussy and push one finger inside while he kissed her again. They touched each other for a few more minutes, until Dean placed his hand on top of hers, making her stop the up and down movements that were driving him completely insane.

“Mais, I need you to stop”, he asked, pulling back and watching her face, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from his kisses and bites, looking absurdly sexy.

“What’s wrong?”, she questioned, concerned.

“Nothing ‘s wrong, it’s just if you keep doing that I’m not gonna last”, he confessed, crawling over Maisie again, kissing her deeply, using one hand to support his weight and the other to caress her plump breast, rubbing the nipple with his thumb. “I wanna be inside you. Wanna make you cum so hard you’re gonna forget every jackass that didn’t fuck you as good you deserve”, he whispered against her lips, letting go of her breast and running his hand down her body until he reached her center again. He then held his cock and ran it through her lips, not really entering her but coating himself with her slick even more, bumping her clit and making Maisie moan with the feeling. “Do you want that?”, he asked, teasing.

“Yes, yes, please Dean, just fuck me already”, she whined, eager to know how he would feel inside of her.

Dean pushed the tip of his cock in her entrance, feeling her already stretching to accommodate him. He hissed at the feeling of warmth and wetness, her nails digging at his shoulders as he entered her slowly, with in and out movements, inch by inch, taking turns between kissing her and sucking her nipples, as Maisie slid one hand down his back to push his hips, silently asking him to go all the way in.

With him completely sheathed inside her, Maisie was feeling so full and stretched, to the point where she knew it would hurt a little once he started moving. Dean was so thick, she found it hot how much she was struggling to take him. He was making her feel things she wasn't used to and, at this point, she just wanted him to fuck her senseless.

He seemed to have a different idea, though, judging by how his hips were completely still.

"Dean", she called, running one hand through his soft hair, "can- can you move? I need you to move", she pleaded, voice strangled with need.

"In a minute, baby. Just need to get used to you. You have no idea how good you feel", he explained, grunting and moving a few inches out of her, teeth clenched. He could feel her muscles snuggling him so much he was afraid he was gonna come, but the need to drive himself deeper inside of her was too much. He did exactly that, and judging by Maisie’s gasp, she felt as good as he did.

“You feel amazing”, he praised again, pulling out and pushing in harder this time, and Maisie’s moans were increasing according to the force he was putting into fucking her. Each one of Dean’s thrusts made her body move further up on the bed. He was hitting her sweet spot with perfect aim and, as he pushed one of her legs further up, her clit started pressing on his pelvis. She had lost the capacity to form words, turning into a moaning mess, digging her fingers into the meaty part of Dean’s thick shoulders, trying her best to keep her eyes open to watch his beautiful face contort with pleasure every time her walls constricted around his length.

Dean slowed down his movements, wanting to last and drag his and Maisie’s pleasure further. “Is it good, baby girl?”, he asked between ragged breaths, kissing and nibbling her jaw and neck.

“S-so good. So- so f-full”, she managed to say, fingers travelling down to his plump ass, “so deep, Dean”.

“Yeah? I can feel this perfect pussy squeezing so hard around me, sweetheart. Are you about to cum?”, he continued, hand sliding to her mound, pressing down as his thumb found her clit, making Maisie’s hips jump from the bed.

“Oh, yes! Dean, I’m-“

“Come, baby, come for me”. He pinned her hips down and buried himself in her to the hilt as her muscles contracted around his cock. Maisie’s ragged breaths and moans were louder and he couldn’t hold it anymore. She was taking him so well. He came hard and deep inside of her, painting her walls white and making it leak around them both.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck”, he grunted, the pleasure spreading to his toes as Maisie pulled his head down to kiss him, not an inch of space between their sweat-slicked bodies.

They slowly came back from their highs, bodies still joined, Dean’s head resting between Maisie’s breasts while she caressed the hair on the nape of his neck. After a few minutes, he tilted his head up to look at her. “That was incredible. You’re so perfect”, he said, kissing her, hot and messy mouth exploring hers.

“Stop, Dean. You’re making me blush”, she said, smiling as her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink.

“It’s true. And you look beautiful when you blush. But I know something that will make you look even prettier”, he stated, kissing her again and slotting himself back between her thick legs.

She made space for him and felt his cock getting hard against her left inner thigh. Maisie laughed when Dean’s mouth travelled to her neck, sucking the sweet spot behind her ear. It felt good to see the way he reacted to her so promptly, how she aroused him right after they just had the most amazing sex. It felt like they knew each other for way longer than they actually did. “Tell me, Dean”, Maisie encouraged him, wanting to hear more of that deep, sexy voice of his saying dirty things to her.

He answered by straddling her mid, cock standing hard and glistening with their juices. It was a mouth-watering sight, Maisie thought, and she wanted nothing more than to suck him off. She reached out to take him in her small hand, and Dean grunted. “You would look amazing covered in my cum”, he confessed, hips jerking with her touch.

“I think I have a better idea”, she looked up at him from under her lashes, leaning up to give a kitten-lick to the head of his cock. Dean hissed and threw his head back, every inch of his body reacting to Maisie’s caress.

She pushed him back on the bed and knelt between his spread legs, proceeding to hold his cock with one hand and sucking on the tip while watching his every reaction. He felt heavy and hot in her hand, and she took him as far as she could, moaning around him.

“Fuck, Maisie, I’m not gonna last”, Dean warned, his length pulsing on her tongue.

Giving one particular strong suck and slurping their combined juices, she let go of him. “Do you wanna come all over me, Dean?”, asked the woman, sensual eyes watching him panting. She knew the answer, he already said it, but she wanted to hear him say it again.

“Yeah, baby”, he replied, lips parted while he watched her give one more kitten lick to the head of his dick and jerk him off until he exploded, painting her breasts and stomach with his hot cum.

“Wow, Dean”, she exclaimed, collecting some of the liquid from between her breasts and licking her fingers to clean it, tasting the tanginess of his cum.

“That was so fucking hot, Mais. You’re incredible”, he pulled her in for a kissing, tasting her and himself, pushing his tongue into her mouth and making her moan.

Wrapping her body in his embrace, Dean pulled her down to lay on the bed with him, still kissing her and exploring her curves with his hands. Once they stopped to catch their breaths, Dean noticed her eyes getting heavy as he caressed her back. He watched as she fell asleep and pulled a blanket over them, letting himself be carried away with her to a dreamless, peaceful sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Winchesters stayed with Maisie for a week. After the police was done collecting evidence from her place, the three of them went back and settled there, trying to help her back to her routine and mostly waiting to know what would happen with Eric. Sam slept in Maisie’s old bedroom while she and Dean shared the other room. That made the younger Winchester smile. He could tell right away that his brother and friend had clicked off, and he hoped they would both get the best out of whatever was going on between them.

In the meantime, Dean was so adamant at making sure Eric would stay in jail and have no chance at ever getting close to Maisie again that, when a hunt surfaced in a city nearby, he sent Sam and asked Bobby for help, deciding to stay with her just in case.

“It’s a quick and easy salt and burn, Sammy, you don’t need me. ‘Sides, Bobby is on his way. Maisie is gonna talk to her lawyer and I wanna be here, in case we need to do something to keep the jackass locked up”, he explained, patting Sam on the shoulder and giving him the Impala’s keys.

Gladly, everything went fine and Eric would wait for trial in jail. Maisie’s lawyer assured her there was no way he was not getting convicted, and Dean only agreed to leave because of that.

“Mais, I’m- Sam and I are one call away. All you have to do is give us a call and we’ll be here or have someone here with you, okay?”, Dean assured, giving Maisie one last hug while Sam was already waiting in the car.

“I know, Dean, thank you. I appreciate everything you guys did for me. Especially you”, she said, smirking devilishly and pulling him down for a kiss. “I cannot wait to see you again”, she whispered in his ear before they split.

Dean’s ears were red but he was grinning. “Me too, sweetheart. I’m gonna text you every day. You text me back, alright?”.

“I will, I promise”, she said, waving goodbye as he walked towards the car.

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As Dean drove down the road, switching the radio on, Sam watched him. Since it didn’t look like his older brother was gonna say anything, he decided to give him a push.

"So, what?", Sam asked.

"What, what?", Dean replied, raising an eyebrow, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

"You and Maisie. Was it just a one-time thing?".

"Hell, no. Not if it's up to me. She’s pretty great, Sammy", Dean smiled, mind filled with the memories of their good time together.

"I know that. That's why I'm asking. Don't break her heart, man".

"I won't, man. I promised her I'll come back. I will call and text and check on her too. I will. She knows how our life is, though. She knows I can't be there every day. But I'm gonna be there for her, for the important things at least. She will never have to deal with that dude ever again, if it's up to me. I’m gonna keep her safe", Dean looked at his brother, stern expression telling Sam he meant every word.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

5 years later – after Purgatory

Maisie’s bare feet were starting to hurt from walking up and down the living room. The perspective of seeing Dean after a year was making her too anxious. One year without hearing his voice, except for the voice messages she kept replaying every time the pain of missing him was too much to bear. One year of no texts, no pictures, of not looking into his green eyes. One year of not knowing if he was even alive.

He was back now, but she had no idea in what state, physical and mental, she would find him. That was only increasing her nervousness, but she tried to hold on to the fact that he was alive, and he was gonna be there with her at any moment now. Everything else, they would manage together.

She ran to the door the moment she heard the sound of the Impala’s engine. If it weren’t for Sam’s call giving her a little more detail, the only indication she had was a text message sent from Dean’s old phone: I’m back and on my way to see you, Mais.

Maisie wouldn’t even had believed that the message was actually from Dean, if Sam hadn’t call right after she received it, explaining that Dean was alive. Apparently, the brothers had a fight, and Dean was on his way to see her. She and Sam were not exactly in the best terms at the moment as well – Maisie was not happy with the fact that he didn’t look for Dean, and she had a suspicion that was the reason they fought.

Once she reached the front door, Dean was already halfway up the short staircase leading to the house’s porch. “De-“, she started saying, tears running down her cheeks, but he didn’t let her finish. He skipped the last two steps and pulled her into his arms, embracing her as tight as he could while kissing her almost with bruising force.

“I missed you, Mais, I missed you so fucking much”, he said between kisses. She sobbed and laughed at the same time, heart thumping in her chest. The relief of seeing him again, looking tired but somewhat whole, was everything she had hoped for in the last year.

“I missed you too, Dean. I love you”, she said, knowing it would scare the shit out of him, but not wanting to spend another day with the regret of not having him know the depth of her feelings.

Dean stepped back but kept his arms around her waist. He was clearly shocked, but soon his wide eyes gave way to the wrinkles that framed his face so beautifully every time he smiled. “I- I love you too, Maisie. I didn’t realize how much until I couldn’t be with you”.

She kissed him again, standing on her tiptoes to throw her arms around his neck. Maisie was glad to realize she didn’t forget the smell of him, or the feeling of his short hair on the tip of her fingers, or the way his big hands fit so perfectly on her hips.

Taking his hand in hers, Maisie led Dean inside the house. As if no time had passed, they sat at the table and she offered him the cookies she prepared on the day before, and he ate all of them, just like he always used to do, to her complete joy. After that, they talked for a while, sharing their perspectives about everything that happened during the past year, how she searched for him and even reached to some of the Winchesters’ hunter friends to help once she realized Sam was not doing what she expected him to.

It was a hard conversation for both of them. Dean wanted more than anything to simply forget everything, but he knew that he owed Maisie an explanation. She was utterly shocked when he mentioned Purgatory and everything he went through there, but her resolution to help him heal didn’t change, not even for a second.

The night ended with them making love. Dean got so lost in the comfort of her body, something he craved and wished for so long, that it wasn’t even surprising to him to feel a tear streaming down his face when he was finally inside her. There was nothing he wanted more than to be wrapped in her scent, her softness, to have every curve of her body fitting into his, to feel as comfortable and safe as he always felt with her.

He took her slowly at first, savoring the feeling of being joined with her after so long, of feeling her heartbeat against the hand he kept on her left breast, of watching the goosebumps forming on her skin with every one of his touches.

On the second round, Maisie was sitting on Dean’s lap, legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck, kissing him fiercely. One of his hands was placed on her lower back so he could help her ride him, pushing her down and filling her to the hilt with every thrust. Her look was of pure bliss, cheeks flushed with the effort, and it was the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen.

"My God, you're stunning. Do you know that? Do you have any idea how beautiful you look when you come?", he asked, pushing a strand of hair from her face while they were catching their breaths, sweaty bodies still intertwined.

Maisie looked at him with watery eyes. She couldn’t believe fate brought the two of them together. In the years they knew each other, they both changed so much, and all they’ve been through only made Dean more handsome and perfect in her eyes.

“Thank you. Thank you for being so perfect. Thank you for being mine. I love you”, she replied, kissing Dean again, savoring the feeling of his plump lips and the slight roughness of his stubble against her palms.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

10 years later – Lebanon, Kansas

Dean watches as Lily’s eyelids got heavier and heavier as he finishes the story. When she finally falls asleep, her little hand still holding his thumb tightly, he gently pushes her hair, as dark as her mom’s, out of her face. His movements are delicate, but she opens her big green eyes that look so much like his, and stares at him briefly, before falling asleep again.

He spends a few more minutes watching her, until a movement by the door catches his attention.

Maisie is standing there, in her pajamas, watching him. She smiles when he notices her.

He removes his hand from his daughter’s carefully, stands up from the stuffed chair by her bed, and walks to the door, where his wife waits for him.

“Hey”, Maisie greets in a whisper when he approaches her, extending her hand so Dean can hold it. He does, intertwining their fingers and standing next to her.

“Hey, baby. How long have you been standing there?”, he asks, kissing the top of her head.

“Just for two or three minutes. I arrived when you were telling her about how you fell in love with me from the first time you saw me”, she revealed, looking up at him and blushing.

Dean chuckled. “You got me there. It’s no lie, though. She loves hearing that story. It’s the one she always asks me to tell her. That, and the one where mommy and daddy reunited after he got out of monster land”.

“Monster land?”, Maisie furrowed her eyebrows in a questioning look.

“Yeah, that’s what I call Purgatory to her”, he gave her a cocky smile, obviously proud of his own creativity.

“I hope you spared her of the details”, she said, chuckling at Dean, once again amazed at the fact that their daughter seemed to love horror stories, just like her father.

“‘Course. Our story ain’t no fairytale, but I think it’s pretty awesome. Plus, she has to know how great her mommy is”, he affirmed, charming as always, and Maisie pulled his hand so they both would move away from Lily’s bedroom door. She closed it and led him to their room.

Once inside, the woman turned around and threw her arms around her husband’s neck, kissing him deeply.

“I love you, Dean. I love how amazing you are with our daughter. I would go through everything we went through all over again knowing it would lead us to this. You, me, and Lily”, she declared, eyes watering.

It was his turn to kiss her now, his warm palm against the side of her neck guiding her into the kiss. Maisie was so much shorter than him that, when they stopped for air, he rested his chin on the top of her head. “She’s only 2, but I know she’s growing up to be as fierce and strong as you are. Once she’s old enough, she’s gonna know how her dad went through hell and Purgatory, and how her mom was the reason he came back every time. How you waited for me and welcomed me with open arms, when I was bruised and battered and more fucked up than before. But you put me back together, baby. I love you”, Dean said, holding his love in his arms.

THE END.

Taglist (I'm sorry super this is super outdated! If you want to be removed or included in this taglist, let me know and I'll gladly do it <3): @sexyvixen7; @candy-coated-misery0731; @dean-winchester-lover99; @thoughts-and-funnies; @avanatural; @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior; @eevvvaa; @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes; @djs8891.

[sunarots]

BETTER THAN REVENGE! ━━━ tooru oikawa & rintarou suna

18. say it ♡

cw. implied sex

You lay back on the grass in Kuro's back garden, staring up at the stars in the sky as he plays the finished album through a speaker. You balance your half-full cup on your stomach, where it will stay until you decide you want another sip. For now, you just want to stay with Rin's arm beneath you, his side pressed against yours.

Kenma and Atsumu are sat trying to decide what flavour to put in their vapes next, Atsumu scolding Kenma whenever he tries to convince him to use the pear flavour he's yet to try. Kuro sits near them, trying to keep his cigarette lit for as long as possible so he doesn't have to go find a new lighter.

Rin looks longingly at the cup just out of reach from him, desperate for another drink yet finding that he doesn't want to have to move. Instead, he hopes that just by looking at it he might be able to get some of the alcohol into his body. Turning his head back to stare at the sky, he can hear you quietly humming along to the songs playing through the speakers. A small smile starts to tug at the corners of his lips.

Sighing, you raise the cup from its spot on your stomach and prop yourself up on one of your elbows, chugging it in its entirety. You consider going back inside to pour yourself another drink, or immediately lying back down with Rin so you don't have to go without his warmth. However, before you can make the decision, his arm has moved from behind you and he's shuffled away from you.

You use your free hand to push yourself up, waving the cup when you spot Kuro looking at you with furrowed eyebrows. You step up onto the decking and through the open glass door, walking straight ahead to the kitchen island where he laid out all the drinks and a cocktail shaker that hasn't been used since he bought it. Yet, he insists on taking it out every time because it makes him look classy.

You set down the cup and scan over the bottles in front of you, deciding to pour yourself the same as last time. Before you can swap the booze in your hand for the mixer, a hand is placed on top of yours and carefully takes the bottle away. You look back at Rin, who's pouring himself the same as you.

"I think...we're fucking geniuses," Rin says quietly, flashing you a wide smile as he pours in more alcohol than mixer.

You match his expression, passing him the juice before saying, "Oh, I know we are." He laughs, topping up his drink.

You pick up your cup and take a sip, resting your back against the counter. You can't fight fluttering in your stomach, nor the tingling when his arm brushes yours.

"Can I... Can I talk to you about something?" Rin's voice is soft, careful to not startle you. He waits for you to nod your head before he turns to fully face you, taking a long drink before setting it on the island. "I... I think I'm in love with you."

You turn your head to look at him, scanning over his face. He waits patiently for your response, his finger drawing a pattern on the counter beside him. "I know," you whisper, feeling your cheeks beginning to warm. "Me too."

The corners of his mouth tug upwards into a slight smile, picking up his cup that he'd placed. "Say it."

Raising an eyebrow at him, you watch as he takes a sip of his drink. "What?"

"Say it, or I'm not gonna believe you," he repeats with a small smirk, shrugging his shoulders.

You take in a deep breath and try to fight the heat rushing to your cheeks. "I'm in love with you, Rin." You manage to get it out without breaking eye contact with him.

Rin downs what he's just poured into his cup, discarding it behind him. You copy his actions, dumping the cup in the trash behind you. His hands cup your cheeks, pushing your hair out of the way before pulling you closer to him.

When his lips touch yours, everything around you stops. All that matters to you is him. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you, fully pressed up against him. He tastes like cigarettes and alcohol, something you know will linger forever. His hands drop from your cheeks, leaving a trail of fire across every part of you he touches.

His hands grip onto your thighs, pulling you up and sitting you on the counter. You flinch away from him when something behind you shatters, one of the empty glass bottles knocked onto the floor. Rin fights back his laugh, his hand in front of his mouth.

"What the-"

You peer past Rin with your legs still around his waist, giving Kuro a sheepish smile as he stares at the two of you with an unreadable expression. Rin starts laughing even harder as you hide your face in his chest, an attempt to avoid any scolding from the host.

"Are you kidding me? No, get off the counter!" he exclaims, shoving a finger in your direction. "You are not fucking in my kitchen! Animals! Go out to your car. Now!"

Rin looks back at you in amusement, glancing in the direction of the front door as a way of asking if you wanted to. You nod your head and go to push yourself off the counter, his arm around your waist stopping you. He lifts you up and over his shoulder, ignoring you as you try to convince him to put you down. He holds you tightly by the legs, looking over his shoulder and shouting a goodbye to Kuro.

"Rin! Put me down! I'm gonna fall!"

He sets you down by his car and looks at you with offence, a hand on his chest. "Have I ever let you down before?" When you don't respond, he smiles a little more. "Then trust me. You won't fall if I'm near you, babe. That's a promise."

masterlist. previous | next

summary. as a world-famous singer, everyone knows everything about all of your relationships. namely, your renowned on-again/off-again relationship with one tooru oikawa. it’s hard not to when every song you write is about him. but no one truly knows all of the gory details of all your dirty breakups, except from the two of you. and after announcing in a drunken red-carpet interview that you never want to see his face again, everyone starts desperately searching for the truth behind your twisted relationship. and just when you think you can escape these rumours, in comes a job opportunity your band can’t turn down.

taglist (open!). @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @iaminyourfloors @rrosiitas @v3nusplanetofluv @draculauracullen @lollbecca @honeytwo @wakashudou @tojirin @makki0s @alexithemiyatic @aboutkiyoomi @hermaeusmorax @theepitomeofswag @qyoongi @esunarint @frootloopscos @kimigiri09 @sweetlyvibe @hhoneyhan @jlly1 @nizaii @mdmraz

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

fluffy kid!stancest first kiss on glass shard beach would be so cute maybe by the swings or when they first find what would become the stan o war

combining these two together, but 2nd anon PLEASE know your ask got me writing old stancest at first that immediately turned hurt and comfort, so i'll be posting that when i actually finish it udndhdhdu this one is a bit of a rush job, BUT i hope you guys like it! this is my first time writing kid stancest, trying to run my head over how boys just banter and this is the best i could relay lmao. also if ford's internal dialogue isnt as flowery as it ought to be, it's mostly because i do still want it to sound like it's coming from a child, and i imagine Ford's internal dialogue wasn't fully realized until he's at least a littls older, you know?

anyway enough stalling: please enjoy!

~~~

Ford thinks he could stay like this forever.

Sitting on a crate, Stanford watches Stanley draw on the sand with the end of a big stick, planning all their great adventures when they finally get out of this place, the promise of their Big Day of Adventure made them giddy all day, bouncing on the heels of their feet all over the beach until the deck guys they "borrowed" a can of paint from earlier found them, chasing them off and forcing the two of them to take cover. They did, only belatedly realizing they had to come back for their ship since their dream did rely on them fixing up the boat to be in top condition for it to sail. Luckily they didn't take their ship, so the two of them were able to push it back into the alcove they found it, keeping it their own little secret.

Ford looks at it in awe again. In bold letters, "The Stan O' War" stares back at him. Their promise of the future. A future with his brother, forever

"And then— Poindexter are ya listening?!" Stan asks, tapping the stick lightly on Ford's head who swats it away with a laugh.

"Yeah, yeah! I am, I am!"

"Good, cuz you better hear this!" Stan resumes drawing on the sand. Ford looks down, tilting his head quizically.

"Why are we standing on top of the sun?"

"That's an octopus!" Stan points to the pile of squigly lines Ford thought had been the ocean. "See?"

"That's still kinda impossible."

"Aw, shuddap!" Stan scoffs playfully, then proceeds to draw fish tails with long noses and circle ends.  "Of course its possible! This is after I killed it, and we're doin' a victory cheer on top of it!" Stan pumps his fist in the air, and begins chanting, echoing loud across the alcove: "PINES! PINES! PINES! And after—"

"Wait, how did we kill it?"

"I beat it up, duh!"

"What did I do?"

Stan huffs. "You math, science and bored it to death, you big nerd," he says with an annoyed expression, which quickly gives away to snickers as he dodges the fistful of sand Ford throws in his direction, leaving a grainy cloud in its wake. Stan points back at his drawing, at the long nosed fish with lines protruding off the top. Until Ford blinks, and tilts his head again, realizing that the messy scribbles are probably meant to be... "Anyway, after we totally beat this giant octopus monster, all the mermaid babes will be all over us! They'd give us kisses, and hugs, and and–"

Covering his mouth with his hand, Ford snorts loudly. "Stanley... you want to kiss fish ladies?"

An offended look crosses Stan's face, and if it wasn't for the sunburn already staining his and Ford's skin an angry, blistering red, Ford could swear Stan was blushing, his cheeks puffing, brown eyes wide and fists clenching. Cute, Ford thinks, so quickly, he almost doesn't catch it.

But he does.

Just like how his shoulder catches Stan's fists, sending him to more fits of giggling as he goes down.

"Shaddup, shaddup, shut uuuuuuuup," Stan continues his playful assault, clearly trying to not to smile, but Ford's laughter catches him like the infectious bug that went around school three months ago, and his grin stretches wild as he pushes Ford to the ground, and planting himself on Ford's short legs. Ford's hand land on his shoulders, trying and obviously failing at pushing off his stronger brother with all his twelve fingered might, but maybe it's because Ford is laughing too much he's out of breath, chest shaking while he heaves his giggles. Maybe it's the weird but nice heaviness Stan is forcing on him, and Ford counts that as the fifth time this day Stan made him feel that: 'weird but nice.'

Yesterday was seven whole times.

"Get off me, jerk!"

"You're the jerk," Stan argues, catching Ford's hands and pinning them down to the sand, grinning at Ford who's completely caught under him. "You've been making fun of me the whole time!"

"No I wasn't! I think it's cool you wanna kiss fish ladies!"

"They're not fish ladies, Sixer! They're mermaids!" Stan argues, looking a lot like Ford when he exasperatedly explains that solving the daily crossword on the newspaper is not lame, just with the additional large gap between his teeth, bandage on his face, cute puffy cheeks, which almost sends Ford to another laughing fit. "Mermaids are cool! No, they're hot!"

"If you say so," Ford shrugs, feeling the soft grains of sand move against his back. "They'd smell like fish though, but I think you would like that."

"Pfff," Stan lets go and straightens up to blow a raspberry, tilting himself to flop onto the sand next to Ford, moving so his fingers brushed Ford's when at their hips. Sixth. "Like you're any different. I bet you have a lot of weird stuff you wanna kiss too. You're obsessed with your ano– anama—"

"Anamolies."

"Aliens. I bet you wanna kiss aliens."

"No I don't!"

"Yeah, you do!"

"I don't," Ford insists, but he's definitely thought about it. Not in a weird way, of course. He wonders about kissing a lot of things, like growing boys do, like the health developmental sections of science books say so! Girls. Boys sometimes.

Boys most of the time.

A boy, most of the time.

"If you say so," Stan repeats dismissively, stretching his arms over his head while Ford watches behind his glasses. Feeling the sand starting to get to that 'pointy, sticky and annoying' state when someone lays on it, he sits up, eyes landing on the Stan O' War again. Stan follows, quickly sitting up.

"What'cha thinking of?"

"Just wondering the capability of weight distribution on the boat."

"Uh...."

"I wonder if it's actually strong enough to hold us up to sail. We're gonna have to fix that up before we take it to the water, remember? Maybe it's not even built for two people."

The last part came out of his mouth without thinking, and Ford is alarmed with the quick moment of doubt. For a second, their dream seemed a little impossible.

Stan pushes himself up, and runs to the stationed boat.

"Stan? What are you—"

"Keep up, Sixer!" Stan exclaims, grabbing onto the ledge of the boat, and suddenly Ford is running after his brother. All caution thrown out of his system when Stan lifts himself over the edge and on top of the boat's deck effortlessly.

"Stan!"

"Look, Ford, it's fine!" Stan exclaims, arms spread wide and standing victoriously. Ford grabs hold of the ledge, and tries to lift his legs over, only to almost fall off with a "Whoa!"— until Stan's hand latches onto his.

"Hold on," Stan tugs until Ford's body lifts high enough for him to wrap his arms around Ford's shoulders. He grunts, pulling the rest of his twin's body with all his strength before falling onto the deck, Ford landing on top of his legs.

Somehow, they find themselves almost exactly as before, just in reverse, skin still grainy and sticky and hot-red, Ford's chest shaking again but this time it's from panting in the short burst of physical activity. His face close to Stan's, Ford feels a bubbling in his chest, a little tingle all over his skin. One he wants to blame on the summer heat still simmering outside the cave or maybe the sunburn all over his back and torso, but it's not that.

Seventh.

"You're kinda heavy for a stick, Sixer."

Ford punches his shoulder this time, smirking. "Shut up, jerk."

"Now you hate it," Stan comes back smugly, then glances down at the deck. "Hey, look! It can hold the both of us after all!"

Remembering his previous concerns, he looks down on the boat, then raps his knuckles onto the floorboards. It's actually pretty sturdy for how old Ford theorized it to be. That's pretty cool.

"Guess we can cross that out of the stuff we have to fix up," Ford concludes. He pushes his glasses over his nose, thinking deeply again. "Still have a lot of stuff to consider though. Plus, who knows how much bigger we'll get too..." He muses, mostly to himself.

So many to consider... Ford doesn't think even his freakish hands could count all the ways it could go right, or wrong, if it goes anywhere at all... it's kind of big, and open, and Ford thinks it's almost like the ocean itself.

"Eh, don't worry about that stuff so much, Sixer," Stan shrugs, his voice breakjng through Ford's train of thought. Ford realizes he's still very much on Stanley's legs, and maybe it's because all the running, pushing, wrestling they've done all day that completely wrung him out, or maybe it's because the warm bubbling in his chest that overflows and keeps his own legs stuck like sap, but unlike Stan, Ford can't bring himself to move off, move away from Stan. His brown eyes wide, grin with a goofy gap in the teeth and cheeks puffing, Stan looks ready to sail off right then and there.

"As long as you've got me, we can do everything. We're getting out of this place no matter what."

Ford smiles warmly. Somehow he could never get tired doing that around his brother and that's weird. It's nice. His hands find Stan's shoulders, and without thinking, he blurts out:

"Stanley... It wasn't aliens."

"Wait, wha—"

And Ford presses his lips to Stan's. He doesn't really know how to do this. It's kinda gross, with Stan tasting like sand and sweat from rolling around it all day, but so did Ford and getting past that, it just feels good. Almost on instinct, he pulls away panic rising at throat, because Oh no, Stan will think I'm a freak too.

But Stan leans forward too, almost knocking Ford's glasses away and also not knowing what he's doing, but it feels nice. Really, really nice.

Eighth.

Ford thinks he could stay counting those forever.

~~

If you like this send another prompt or a prompt of your own! Hope you liked this anons, be it sufficiently fluffy enough lmao

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 79)

Uzi was sitting on the couch, burying her face in an aeronautical engineering book for the umpteenth time. Sketching out ideas for heat shielding on a notepad, Tera on her lap, inquisitivly watching her mother draw and holding onto her bat plushie.

If she was being honest with herself (which, of course she wasn't) she would admit that it was somewhat difficult now for Tera to sit on her lap like she used to, her baby bump was now fairly obvious, she could still… somewhat, hide it underneath her hoodie, but even then if someone was paying close enough attention they would notice that something was different.

And it was of course at this moment, V crashed into her apartment. The door whipping open suddenly and startling both girls out of their shells. Tera chirped loudly and Uzi very nearly cursed.

“Back, took pictures.” V said bluntly, making Uzi take a deep breath to surpress the urge to beat her over the head with whatever she had in her hand. (A notebook, it wouldn't hurt, but still.)

“Okay. A. Thank you.” Uzi hummed, before her face fell “B. Bite me! You didn't have to scare the crap out of me!” She grumbled, standing up and resting Tera on her shoulder. V smirked, before her eyelights shifted down to Uzi's midsection.

“Huh. You can actually tell now.” She commented, which immediately made Uzi feel self conscious, she wouldn't lie and say that the visible change to her body wasn't off-putting.

“It hasn't been that long since you saw me.” Uzi pouted, turning slightly away from her ‘freind’. V clicked her tongue.

“How are you holding up?” V asked, ignoring her statement and tone much, much softer.

“Fine. Still don't know why you care so much.” Uzi replied, and V looked at the floor for a moment before Uzi got several pictures sent to her over short range, she filed them in a folder titled ‘MYSFLESH:/’

“’Fine’ isn't an answer.” V pointed out, crossing her arms, her attitude was normal grating on Uzi's nerves, but with everything else she had to stress about, it was genuinely beginning to piss her off.

“It's the only one you're getting. Now if you're finished doing everything in your power to make my day harder. I need to look over these pictures.” Uzi turned away, from the door, a sure way to tell V to fuck off, but unfortunately that did not happen.

“You're carrying, N can't be here all the time. It's… It's my responsibility to fill in when he's not here.” Uzi tensed up at V's words, hitting her like a sack of bricks.

“Your responsibility?” Uzi parroted back at her, whipping around to glare into V's visor. “Why is it your responsibility?”

V, for once, looked genuinely nervous about what she was about to say, her tail pressed flat against the floor.

“I don't-” She growled at herself, as if she was fighting her own programing. “It just is! I don't know how to explain it!” She finished, exasperated and throwing her clawed hands forward, showing more emotion then Uzi had ever seen.

“It's unbearable!” Her tail suddenly sprang up, kinking in several places before it went back into its default position. “I don't wanna be here either, but it's so much worse when I'm not!” She yelped, like a dam that had just cracked.

Uzi stepped back, alarmed at the sudden outburst. V began to pace back and forth.

“I-I think the worst part is that I don't entirely hate it! I want to! But you're not actually terrible, you're stubborn as hell and get on my nerves-” V grunted, whatever was making her agitated seemed to suddenly deflate, making her stop her pacing and rest her head within the palm of her clawed hand.

“Ugh. Freaking- God Dammit. I don't actually hate your guts, and I do actually care if you live or die. Happy?” V finished, a small golden blush displaying on her visor, crossing her arms.

Uzi took a moment to process, before snickering into her hand, making V blush harder and growl irritability.

“Do not.” V warned, but now her threats were empty, they always were, but now there was no pretending otherwise.

“Aww. V, that's like, the nicest thing you've ever said to me.” Uzi smirked, watching at V's tail thrashed like whip, displaying her discomfort.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” V replied, breifly looking away before her eyes came to glance at Uzi from the corner of her visor, Uzi was smiling.

And so was V.

-*-

“Alright. Alright. Settle Down!” Khan was standing up a stage set up in the WDF training course. The aforementioned equipment haven been deconstructed and put away, the rows of seating in it's ‘stadium-esque’ design being perfect for holding a bunker wide meeting.

Speaking of bunker-wide, every drone that made their home within the bunker was scattered throughout the seats, a rainbow of different eyelight colors staring back at him, even so seeing everyone in front of him made what he already knew more obvious.

There weren't a lot of them left…

The soft murmur of voices quieted, and Khan cleared his throat, looking back behind him to the other two drones with him. Uzi, sitting with her legs crossed and arms crossed, refusing to look ahead at their audience. And N, who was standing at stiff attention at her side, for once, Tera was not with them. Instead, V was looking after her, offering almost immediately.

He turned back to his audience, taking a deep breath.

“Thank you all for coming. I know everyone is curious on why I called this emergency meeting. So I won't waste time.”

He nodded to N, who nodded back and lifted his hand. A large yellow hologram of Copper-9 appeared above them, enough for everyone to see, it drew so much power from N's systems his eyelights and headband dimmed and he winced.

“This is our home, we've worked, fought, and made lives here for over a hundred years, not always independent, but always here.” Khan’s voice wavered.

“Right now, however, this is what our home looks like.”

With some effort on his part, N's hologram changed, one hole opening up, then another, and two more, until the surface of the planet was reminiscent of Swiss cheese, pockmarked full of holes. Images provided by V's scouting trip.

And out of each one, tentacles reached up out of them, pulsing and wiggling wildly, the audience gave a collective wince, several people gasped. And a few straight up burst into tears.

“After through study, it has been determined that twenty percent of the planet has already been consumed, the rest will follow within six months… give or take.” He continued, the waver in his voice was obvious now, but he powered through. N changed the hologram again, letting a fleshy substance cover the frozen surface of Copper-9.

“My daughter has come up with a plan; one that I will let her explain.” He suddenly turned to Uzi, N's hologram fading out and his glow returning to near normal, though an exhausted look flickered across his face.

Uzi took a deep breath, replacing her father's place on stage, feeling the mic attached to her shirt, heavy as lead.

“I know I don't have the best reputation.” She started, her voice croaking slightly. She balled up one of her hands, all the eyes boring into her as she felt her core speed up. “You all know me as Khan’s outcast, rebellious daughter, the one that brought the murder drones into the bunker.”

And so, so much more

She thought internally.

“But believe me when I tell you I want every single person here to make it out of this situation alive.” She nodded at N, who gave her a small smile before, with another wince, brought up another large hologram.

This one was of a shuttle, large enough to fit the entire bunker, though still very much only a concept.

“The cause of the infection is currently unknown, but the flesh that's spreading across the surface is deadly, contact with it causes rapid assimilation, and a loss of all bodily autonomy.” She paused for a moment, realizing she was speaking as if she was reading out of textbook.

“Zombification, in layman's terms.” She clarified, the audience was dead silent, but with another steadying breath and an even tighter grip on her own palm, she continued. “Our best option is complete planetary evacuation.”

There was a murmur through the crowd, one that Uzi was expecting.

“I hear you. This is our home, we've always lived here. And that kind of change is scary.” She was happy she had pre-written this speech with the help of her dad, otherwise, she would have definitely flubbed something up by now.

She had to give credit where credit was due, Khan knew how to write a speech.

“But leaving is a chance at survival, more then that, it's our chance to truly divorce ourselves from our past as nothing but tools for our creators.” At that she could hear several affirmative mumbles, she thought that might have been a good addition, there were many old drones that still remembered being slaves.

“From today, my plan is to build an escape shuttle, reverse engineering the landing pods already here to head to somewhere where we can start again.” N's hologram showed an image of a landing pod, before switching to a new planet, one covered in greenery instead of ice.

“Without all of us working together, this won't work, so I'm asking each and every one of you to pull together for this. Not for me, but for your family, your neighbors, your friends. And help make this a reality.”

She finished, finally, feeling satisfied with what she had said.

“Those in favor. Head down to the right of the stadium. Those opposed, to the left.”

Despite at this point needing to sleep for several sunlit days, N gave a last hologram, two arrows pointing left and right.

Uzi took the opportunity to check up on him, walking back towards him with a concerned frown.

“You okay? I know you haven't been sleeping well, and that took a lot of energy.” With everyone gathering below the stage, Uzi felt safe enough to place a hand on his chest. He gave a small smile.

“I'm good.” His hand came up into a thumbs up even as Uzi could see the ‘low charge’ symbol blinking at the corner of his visor. “You passed out this morning, I should be asking you.”

His hand came to rest on her baby bump, giving her a very tired grin as the hologram flickered slightly. “Baby has you exhausted too, I'm really proud of you for making this speech.”

She blushed, taking another glance around to insure no one was watching them.

“Let's just hope it was worth it..” Uzi blinked, did… did she just say that twice? Because it was either that or… the mic was still on.

She gasped, looking down at the mic attached to her, still blinking green, showing that it was indeed on. She looked back up at N, who looked equally as shocked. And she quickly turned it off, looking back at her dad, who had apparently been trying to get her attention this entire time, and now was just smiling sheepishly.

The stadium was dead silent.

Like a character in a horror movie, she slowly went to check on the rest of the stadium, the seats now all empty. She peered over the side and-

Not a single person was present on the left, every single drone voting in favor of Uzi's plan, when she was noticed back within view, she got cheers, she could hear congratulations mixed in with the “you go girl”s and straight cheers.

She began to tear up a moment of relief hitting her before the mortification she just announced her pregnancy in front of the entire bunker caught up.

She looked back at N, his hologram now gone, while he shrugged his shoulders with a smile, although a look on his face that was asking ‘are you alright’

No was the answer.

But even still, the plan was set in motion.

Next ->

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Self Defence Tips for Runners

Running solo is both freeing and practical, but safety concerns are on the rise—especially for those who hit the pavement alone. Every runner has heard the stories or seen the headlines and it's clear: solo runners face real risks, from unwanted attention to serious threats. Preparation isn't about fear, but about confidence and control. So, let’s dive into the power of self defence tips for runners.

Adopting smart self defence strategies puts the power back in your hands and can turn worry into peace of mind. This guide covers key techniques, essential tools, habits that keep you safer. So you’ll be able help you stay focused on what you love—your run.

Plan Your Route for Maximum Safety

Your running route shapes your entire training effort and directly impacts your personal safety. By taking a smart, intentional approach to route planning, you cut down risks and stay focused on the run itself. Let’s look at proven ways to map out the safest paths, use the best tools, and add extra layers of protection every time you train alone.

Use Safe, Well-Known Paths

Photo by Gustavo Fring

The most important rule: choose routes that are both familiar and frequently used by other runners. Move away from shortcuts, isolated trails, or any place that feels hidden or hard to reach. If a street or park looks empty or poorly lit, pick another way.

Where you run matters. Here are some tips to help you pick a safer route:

Stay visible by choosing paths that are well-lit and open.

Seek locations recognised by your local running community. Parks, waterfronts and public trails that host regular joggers often have a safer feel.

Plan your workouts during daylight or peak hours. Aim for times with more foot traffic e.g. early morning or before dusk is usually best.

Trust your instincts. If an area makes you uncomfortable, even if it looks safe, skip it.

Navigation tools can help you check elevation, distance, and how busy paths usually are. Resources like RunGo’s turn-by-turn route planner or the roundup at The 7 Best Running Route Planners make it easy to map custom routes and discover new safe paths nearby.

Leverage Technology for Added Protection

Modern tech can be your best ally on a solo run. With GPS tracking, live location sharing and smart apps. You give yourself an invisible shield , letting others know where you are at all times.

Key tips when using technology for extra safety:

Turn on real-time GPS tracking. Many running watches and phones let trusted contacts follow your session live.

Use location sharing features in popular apps. For example, Strava Beacon or Garmin’s safety and tracking alerts can send your route and updated location to family or friends every time you run.

Explore apps with safety-first options. Some, like Footpath and RunGo, can guide you with audio instructions along pre-approved safe routes.

Consider setting up emergency contacts or auto-alert features in your fitness app—if something feels off, help is just a button-press away.

Popular options include Strava’s live features and run mapping apps listed in TechRadar’s guide to the best mapping apps. These tools not only map your run, but add meaningful peace of mind.

Running alone can be freeing, but you should never feel isolated. By combining safe route planning and modern apps, you boost both confidence and safety—every mile.

Stay Aware and Visible at All Times

Feeling safe on your run starts with two powerful habits: staying aware and making yourself visible. Whether you train in the early morning, evening or anywhere in between. These are everyday practices with big payoffs. Proper attention to your surroundings, combined with smart wardrobe choices, helps you avoid dangers from traffic to unwanted encounters. So you can focus on your stride, not your stress.

Limit Distractions and Stay Focused

Getting in the zone feels great, but tuning out completely opens you up to risk. Runners often lose themselves in music or podcasts, but hidden hazards and sudden surprises demand your full attention. The best defence is a tuned-in mind.

Keep headphone volume low. You still hear important sounds like footsteps, cars, or someone calling out. Loud tunes drown out cues you can't afford to miss.

Use only one earbud. Running with one ear free lets you enjoy audio yet stay tuned to the real world. One good ear on your surroundings is worth any playlist.

Check your environment often. Regularly scan ahead, to the sides, and behind. Look for new people, animals, or vehicles entering your zone.

Avoid texting, calls, or other distractions. Pausing to post or handle your phone interrupts your awareness and slows your reactions.

Trust your instincts. If something feels off, change your route or head to a busier area. Your intuition is your early warning system.

Run with purpose: you’re not just chasing distance, you’re owning your space. Staying alert prevents most situations from becoming problems. For more detailed tips on staying alert and its impact on running safety, check out this guide on how to keep a watchful eye when you run alone.

Wear Reflective and High-Visibility Gear

Photo by RUN 4 FFWPU

Evening and early morning runs bring less light and more risk. Being seen by drivers and cyclists is not optional, it’s essential. High-visibility clothing and reflective gear boost your chance of staying safe mile after mile.

Consider adding these to your running kit:

Reflective vests and harnesses. A lightweight reflective vest amplifies your outline from every angle. Look for those with broad coverage.

Bright, neon tops. Day or night, bold, fluorescent colors catch the eye—think yellow, orange, or green.

Reflective stripes and patches. Add these to jackets, shoes, and hats for extra visibility in low light.

LED armbands, lights, or clip-ons. Small, battery-powered lights make you visible in seconds and attach almost anywhere.

Visible accessories. Hats, gloves, and even shoe laces in bright or reflective colours round out a stand-out look.

Wondering what to pick? Reviews of the best reflective running gear for 2025 share top-rated vests, shirts, and accessories guaranteed to boost nighttime safety. For more ideas, check out new reflective visibility collections—these products are designed specifically for runners who want to be seen.

No matter your mileage or speed, the right gear and awareness habits tip the odds in your favour. You become more than just a runner—you become visible, alert, and in control of your safety.

Equip Yourself with Self Defence Tools and Skills

Running alone clears your mind, but it’s smart to prepare for what you can't control. When you pack the right self defence tools and know a few easy moves, you run with real confidence. These aren't just backup plans—they’re your safety net. It’s not about expecting trouble; it’s about handling it if it comes your way.

Carry Easy-to-Use Protection

The right tools—small but mighty can make a world of difference. Modern self defence gear is designed for quick access and easy use, even in a stressful moment.

Pepper Spray: Compact, effective, and simple to use in an emergency. Clip it to your waistband or keychain. Make sure it’s always within reach, not buried at the bottom of your pocket.

Personal Alarms: These loud, pocket-sized devices act fast. Pull the pin or press a button to unleash a shrill sound that attracts attention and can startle an attacker.

Tactical Whistles: Lightweight but powerful, a good whistle cuts through traffic, music, and other noise. It never runs out of battery, and you can hang it from your wrist or zipper for instant access.

Handheld Tools: Products like safety keychains or small tactical flashlights fit in your palm. Some feature sharp edges or points. Only carry what feels comfortable in your hand and practice using it before you hit the trail.

For best results, always keep your chosen protection tool within a split-second grab. Test it out on a walk or jog around the block. Aim for muscle memory, so you don’t have to think—you just react. More ideas and trusted product reviews can be found at 9 self-defense weapons for runners and Go Guarded's lineup of self defense tools.

Learn Simple, Effective Defence Moves

Carrying a tool is smart, but knowing how to act is even better. Basic self defence skills can help you break free and shout for help—giving you those crucial extra seconds.

The most useful physical tactics for runners:

Yelling Loudly: Don’t hold back. A sharp, forceful yell not only draws attention but can cause an attacker to hesitate or run. Practice your "NO!" so it comes out strong when you need it.

Striking Soft Targets: If grabbed, aim for eyes, throat, nose, or groin. Palm strikes, elbows, or knee kicks work best. These are places where even a small amount of force can stop someone bigger than you.

Escaping Holds: Shimmy or twist as you drop your weight down. Lower your centre, stomp on feet and turn your hips to break free. If someone grabs you from behind, squat and shift sideways. An elbow strike or a backwards head butt can create enough space to escape.

It’s smart to practice these moves. Try them solo or take self defence or martial arts classes if possible. Repeat until your body knows what to do, even under stress. For step-by-step tips and expert demonstrations, check out this guide to the best self defence moves for runners and real-world scenarios at Self Defense for Runners.

Self defence is not just about tools or strength, it’s about readiness and mindset. With the right gear in your hand and key skills in your pocket, every solo run feels just a little bit safer.

Share Your Whereabouts and Build a Safety Network

Every solo run should come with peace of mind. Good safety habits don’t stop with gear; they start with smart communication and a network of support. Sharing your plans and connecting with fellow runners helps you reduce risk, respond quickly to problems, and feel stronger on every route.

Tell Someone Before You Head Out

Small actions before you lace up can make a big difference. Always share your route, distance and expected return time with a friend or family member. Don’t leave your whereabouts as a mystery, give someone you trust the info they need to act fast if there's a delay.

Many runners use messaging apps or group texts for this. But real-time location tracking takes safety further. Apps like Google Maps let you share your live location for the length of your run, so someone can see where you are and how you’re moving. This live trail of breadcrumbs can be critical if something goes wrong or you don’t return as planned.

Key benefits include:

Instant awareness: Trusted contacts can see if you’re on course or if you’ve stopped unexpectedly.

Faster response: If you have an emergency or get lost, help can pinpoint your last known location.

Added peace of mind: Sharing your run isn’t just about worry—it’s about running stronger, knowing someone’s got your back.

There's no need to broadcast to the world, but making your run visible to one trusted person can be life-saving. Learn more about how to share your real-time location during a run using tools like Google Maps from this user-recommended tutorial.

Join a Safety-Minded Running Community

You don’t have to run as part of a crowd to benefit from community support. Local and online running groups are great sources of safety info, trusted routes and encouragement. Sharing experiences, warnings, or updates about changing conditions makes everyone safer. While also keeping solo runners in the loop without sacrificing their independence.

Engage with groups that focus on:

Safety check-ins: Arrange pre- and post-run messages or meet in common areas to start and finish together, even if you run different routes.

Recommended routes: Runners share up-to-date info on which trails are safest, best lit, or most popular at different times.

Real-time alerts: Get warnings about problem areas, recent incidents, or trail closures from people who were just there.

Motivation and support: Feeling connected not just physically, but mentally—gives you extra strength for tough days.

Some clubs meet in person, while others organise group chats or forums for easy info sharing. Joining even one safety-focused running group reduces isolation and multiplies your resources.

Explore the key benefits of running in a group, including stronger motivation and a safer environment. Even solo miles gain strength from collective wisdom.

Reacting Calmly and Quickly: What to Do If Threatened

Feeling threatened is every solo runner’s worst nightmare, but how you react can tip the outcome in your favour. The goal: keep your wits, act fast, and always prioritise your safety. Take charge with a clear plan instead of freezing under stress.

Trust Your Gut and Change Course

Your instincts are your first and best line of defence on the run. That tight feeling in your chest, chills, or nervousness? Listen and act. If your surroundings, a person or even an oddly parked car feels off. Don’t push through, change your route without hesitation.

Turn around and retrace your steps. Heading back or choosing a busier street often means leaving a threat behind.

Cross to the other side of the road or trail. Extra distance alone can be enough to avoid a problem.

Detour toward people or open businesses. Safe, public spaces add eyes and take away opportunity for trouble.

Contact someone you trust. A simple call or text saying “headed back early” not only checks you in, but lets a would-be threat know you’re connected.

These choices disrupt an attacker’s plan. Runners who act early lower their risk and often avoid direct confrontations altogether. Safety experts agree: if you sense something is wrong, don’t doubt yourself—move. Real-world stories and actionable steps are covered in this piece on how to handle being harassed on a run.

Take Immediate Defensive Action

Sometimes, threats appear too suddenly for an easy retreat. Calm and quick thinking make all the difference. Stay focused on escaping and getting help—don’t get drawn into a confrontation you don’t need.

If you’re approached or physically threatened:

Shout loud and clear. Yelling “Back off!” or “Help!” does more than just attract attention—it signals to the attacker you won’t go quietly. Make noise, even if it feels awkward in the moment.

Use your self-defence tools. Deploy pepper spray, a personal alarm, or a tactical whistle right away. These tools are designed for split-second use, as described in top self defense tactics for runners. Always check your self defence laws in your country and state to see what self defence tools are legal.

Aim for escape—always. Don’t worry about “winning.” Break contact and run toward safety. Head for lights, people, or any landmark where you’ll find help.

Strike if you must. If grabbed, go for vulnerable areas: eyes, throat, nose, or groin. Aim to break their grip and get away—not to fight it out.

Create distance. Even a few steps can buy you precious seconds to run or alert others.

Always rehearse these actions mentally, so they feel natural under stress. Practicing defence moves boosts your confidence and readies your mind to react instead of freeze. Check out these best self defense moves for runners to refine your response plan.

Remember, your number one job in a threat is not to stand your ground—it's to make it home safe. Reacting with a sharp, confident move can change everything.

Conclusion

Preparation, confidence and support save lives on the run. Solo runners who plan their routes, stay aware and train with the right tools enter each mile with calm assurance. No shortcut replaces the peace of mind that comes from sticking to safe routines, sharing your plans, and practicing smart self defence.

Building habits like real-time location sharing or joining a local running group creates strength in numbers—even when you run alone. The first step toward safety is yours to take. Choose one action from this guide and put it in place for your next run.

 

Source: Self Defence Tips for Runners

[starsstuddedsky]

Blonde Phase

Renjun x gn reader

summary: spontaneous hair decisions always end in regret. that's what you expect to hear when you tell renjun you're bleaching your hair, but instead you find support, and even his help. you should appreciate his wholehearted support but instead it has you wondering: why doesn't he care?

genre: fluff, minimal angst, technically they're in grad school but that's not particularly relevant, non idol au,

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, spontaneous hair decisions (i do not endorse), lmk if I missed any

wc: 4.4k

a/n: in the immortal words of charles boyle, the most intimate thing you can do with a lover is wash their hair. yknow i made fun of him for that until i wrote this. i see it. also its been so long since ive finishing anything, pls forgive me if this is bad. renjun i love u. as always I'd love to hear what you think <3

“I’m bleaching my hair.” If you say it fast enough, Renjun won’t be able to talk you out of it. The plastic bag swings around your wrist as you walk across the parking lot. “I’ve already bought the bleach and gloves and stuff, and I’m going to do it, today.”

He’s quiet for so long you check to make sure the call hasn’t dropped. “Okay.”

You almost drop your phone. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, drawing the word out. “Was I supposed to say something else?”

“Um, yeah?” You say. “You have opinions about literally everything. You talked me out of buying those pants two days ago.” You finally get to your car, tossing the bag onto the passenger seat and half-falling behind the wheel.

“That’s because they were made of polyester, and the thrift store was still charging $15,” he says immediately. “That was a scam.”

“Money is temporary, drip is forever.”

“Those pants would have lasted a year max, before they fell apart, and you still haven’t learned how to sew so you wouldn’t even be able to mend them or upcycle them.”

“You know what, I didn’t buy the pants, so this fight is moot,” you say. You set the phone on speaker, turning the engine on to blast the AC.

“Well, not moot. Technically I won,” Renjun says.

“I’d respect you more if you weren’t insufferable.”

“Here I was thinking you appreciated my insight,” he says. “You even asked for it.”

“I did not!”

“You literally asked about bleaching your hair.”

“I said I was surprised you didn’t have an opinion, not that I wanted to hear it,” you say.

“Semantics,” Renjun says. “So what time do you want to come over?”

You frown. “Tonight?”

“The roommates are out of town for the whole weekend, and I have way better ventilation,” he says. “I’d much rather bleach it without passing out.” He pauses. “You do want help, right?”

“Honestly, I was not expecting support. I was fully ready to fight you on this,” you say.

He snorts. “Come over whenever, I'm not doing anything today.”

“See you in twenty minutes.” You hang up, feeling a strange ball of tension roll around in your gut. That was… too easy? Renjun always has something to say about your admittedly impulsive tendencies. But if he’s going to help you’re not going to reject it—knowing Renjun he’s probably already watching Youtube videos and learning more than you will ever know about bleaching hair.

And it’s Renjun. When have you done anything without his help?

.

.

Renjun opens the door wearing a wearied expression. He doesn’t bother to greet you or even smile, just unlocks the door and steps to the side.

“Hi to you, too,” you say, trading your shoes for the spare slippers resting by the doormat. You follow Renjun into the space that serves as kitchen, dining room, living room, and Jaemin’s miniature gym, with weights and mats stacked next to the television.

“Who the hell clogs a toilet and then leaves for the weekend,” Renjun says.

You set down your plastic bag full of hair products and frown. “That’s disgusting.”

Renjun leans against the counter. “And you didn’t have to spend the last forty minutes trying to unclog it.”

“So which of the guys are you going to murder?” You try to guess, running through his roommates: you find it hard to believe Jaemin would do such a thing. Jeno maybe, and Donghyuck would certainly think it’s funny. But, in all honesty, it could have been any of them.

“Don’t know,” Renjun says, “but knowing them, they’ll make a pact to protect each other.”

“Seriously?”

Renjun pauses, gaze sheepish. “It’s what I did when I accidentally killed Jaemin’s little succulent that survived his college dorm.”

You fake a gasp, placing a hand over your chest. “Every day I learn something new about you. That’s devious.”

“I was drunk!” Renjun says, holding up a finger. “And Jeno and Donghyuck pushed me into it, so it was equally their fault.”

“If you say so.” You glance around the apartment. “Where are they all?”

“Jaemin’s visiting family, Jeno has a soccer tournament, and Donghyuck said he’s going camping with Yangyang.” Renjun says, counting off with his fingers.

“Donghyuck and Yangyang are friends?”

“Yeah, according to them they bonded over dealing with me.”

“Those were their exact words?”

“Dealing with my ‘stupid ass,’” Renjun says.

“That’s more on brand.”

Renjun nods.

You think about Yangyang, Renjun’s friend from when he was a kid. You’ve met him a few times now, especially since he’s moved half an hour away from Renjun. He’s fun, always bringing out a chaotic side of Renjun whether it’s dancing on a bar or bringing out angry-Renjun. But Yangyang and Donghyuck?

“That’s a terrible friendship. They’re going to ruin you.”

Renjun nods again, but you see the smile hiding in his eyes. He can rant all he wants, you know he’s excited his friends are getting closer with each other.

You point at the bag. “So where are we doing this?”

You half expect him to lecture you about rash hair decisions but he just gestures to the kitchen. “I figure right here should be fine. The tiles should be pretty easy to clean and probably could use some bleach anyway.”

He drags the chair with a rickety leg from the dining table. You dig through the bag and set everything on the counter. While Renjun cracks a window open, you begin to mix the developer and the bleach, curling your lip at the sharp scent. Renjun joins you, pulling on a pair of gloves.

“Wow that’s strong,” he says, wincing.

“Yeah,” you say. “Definitely a good idea to do it here.”

When the powder is finally combined, you sit on the chair, Renjun following behind you. You section off your hair together, then he grabs the bowl and the brush.

He holds the thick paintbrush brush up against your hair, glancing at you, giving you one last chance to back down. You give him the nod of approval and he shifts back to focusing on your hair, brushing the bleach into it as carefully as he spreads paint on a canvas. He works section by section, carefully drenching your hair with the creamy solution.

“So, are you going to tell me why you decided to do this?”

You can’t resist turning and glancing at him. “I thought you approved.”

“I didn’t try to talk you out of it,” he says, “that doesn’t mean I’m not curious about how you came to this decision.”

You nod until Renjun uses his gloved hand to hold your head straight. “I suppose that’s fair.”

You pause, trying to find the right words. But you find yourself drifting back to Renjun. Why didn’t he ask this before the bleach was in your hair? It’s not like him to keep his opinions to himself. When you first met him, he was yelling at Donghyuck for going to a philosophy seminar just to fight with the notorious bigot of a professor (which Donghyuck did and then got kicked out, and proceeded to get the professor suspended). You only knew Mark back then, a friend from another class who invited you to meet some of his other friends in the dining hall. When Renjun turned to ask what you thought, you said Donghyuck should do what he thinks is right. Renjun didn’t hesitate to call you an idiot then. So why isn’t he calling you an idiot now?

To his credit Renjun doesn’t rush you. He continues to paint the bleach into your hair, content to wait for you to figure out an answer. Except you’re thinking about all the wrong questions. Like, seriously, why do you want him to call you an idiot?

“I want a change,” you finally say. “I’m stuck in a degree that will make me absolutely no money when I graduate, I can’t afford to break my lease, and don’t have any major relationships that need upheaving, so, hair.”

“‘A change?’” Renjun repeats. “Like, you woke up this morning and thought, today I’m going blonde?”

“Like, I have this feeling in my chest, this aching feeling that there’s something I need to do, someone I’m supposed to be, something more than the person I see in the mirror but I’ve made my decisions and I’m happy with my decisions and I genuinely like who I am. So, hair.”

You see Renjun’s hand falter out of the corner of your eye, halfway between the bleach mixture and your hair. He freezes for a heartbeat then continues to move, lifting some hair off your ear, careful not to brush the bleach onto your skin.

“‘So, hair,’” he says.

“Are you really going to repeat everything I say?”

This gets a short laugh from him. “I think the fumes are getting to me already.” He pauses, setting down the brush and stepping in front of you. “For what it’s worth, I like who you are, too. I’m really glad we’re friends.”

You smile at him. “Me too,” you say. “I definitely would have fucked up trying to bleach this on my own.”

.

.

“There’s still some bleach left,” Renjun says after he finishes with your roots. “You’re sure you don’t want your eyebrows to match?”

“Why don’t we do your eyebrows,” you say. “Better yet, why don’t we shave them off?”

Renjun sets down the brush. “Okay, no eyebrows.”

You grin at him. “That’s what I thought.”

He helps you get a plastic bag wrapped securely over your head, then sets the timer.

“What do you want to do for the next half hour?” You ask. “Preferably something that requires little to no movement.” You gesture to your head. “We’re not winning any frisbee tournaments tonight.”

“It was one time,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head and stepping around you plop down onto the couch. “We can watch something.”

You follow him, sitting on the other side, a cushion between you. The space feels strangely empty. Though you’ve spent plenty of time alone with Renjun, even alone with him at his apartment, the silence is usually interrupted by one of the guys getting bored of playing League, or coming back because they can’t go out to a bar without someone forgetting their ID, or in desperate need of Renjun’s expert advice (read: Jeno never remembers to ask Renjun to look over his submissions until 12 minutes before they’re due). The cushion between you never stays empty for long but the moments stretch on, only making the distance feel greater.

You wonder, not for the first time, how long it’s been since you’ve thought of Renjun as just a friend. If he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much about what he thinks. And if he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much that he suddenly doesn’t think.

You sneak a glance at him, fiddling with the remote for a couple seconds before realizing he grabbed the wrong one. He’s certainly always been handsome—that was undeniable from the moment you met him. But more than just being good looking, it’s Renjun himself. Not just those dark eyes, but the way they burn with passion (even when he’s arguing about the proper number of appetizers to order). It’s his perfectly shaped lips, the way they betray how he feels with a slight curve up or down—and his smile. Always, always his smile, beautiful and breathtaking even though you’ve seen it a thousand times.

He turns, a little furrow in his brow. “What?”

“Hm?”

“You’re looking at me funny,” he says. “Did I get bleach in my hair or something?”

You turn to face the TV, trying to pay attention to the show Renjun chose. “I wasn’t looking at you funny,” you say. “I wasn’t even looking at you.”

“If you say so,” Renjun says, “but if there’s a blonde spot anywhere in my hair, I’m so making you pay for it.”

You shake your head. Where the hell did those thoughts come from? Renjun, more than a friend? Sure, you’re close with him and sure, he’s objectively attractive, but you’ve never had those thoughts before. Well, at least not sober.

“Um, why are we watching Singles Inferno?”

“Because I asked and you were too busy not staring at me to answer, so I put it on,” Renjun says. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you don’t like it. I saw you rant on your Instagram story the other day.”

“Okay, but you don’t get it,” you say. “This bitch really has the audacity to to—”

“I saw your post,” Renjun says. “Believe me, I get it.”

“If you didn’t want to hear about it you should not have turned it on, because now I can’t stop,” you say. Renjun rolls his eyes but even as you delve into a full on essay about the horrible men particularly common in dating shows, you see the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile.

.

.

The timer goes off halfway through an episode.

“Saved by the buzzer,” Renjun says. “I’m putting a ban on anything reality TV related for the next three hours.”

“You’re the one that brought it up,” you mutter without any real annoyance. Despite his banter, Renjun dutifully listened to your rants, and even got mad along with you.

You drag a chair to the sink while Renjun drapes a towel over your shoulders. He puts on gloves and unwraps the bag, letting your hair fall into the empty sink.

“Close your eyes,” Renjun says gently. He tilts your head back, cupping the back of your head for a moment before pulling the head of the sink faucet out. He runs the water, long enough for you to peek your eyes open.

You’ve gotten used to seeing Renjun focused. He gets a little furrow in his brow, always glaring at his work. Before you were friends, you used to think he was actually angry, that his frowns and short tone were real. You’ve learned since then, it’s not his emotions, it’s his passion. The frown only comes out when he’s focused, trying to be perfect. When he cares.

“Unless you want bleach in them, close your eyes,” Renjun mutters, with absolutely no malice behind the words. His eyes shift to meet yours and that’s how you know you’re right. He can glare and bluster all he wants, he can’t hide his eyes, warm and shining. Like when he’s looking at his art, his gaze is a combination of soft and intense, creating something stronger than affection. Except he’s not looking at his art, he’s looking at you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your heartbeat pick up. Despite every attempt to shut down the thoughts, they race through your head, a stampede grown out of control. Renjun, who you’ve only known a year and a half but who has become one of your closest friends. Renjun, who never fails to share the only opinion you really care about. Renjun, who you can’t imagine life without. Renjun, who you’ve never dared to imagine life with.

He places a hand on your forehead, bringing the faucet closer to rinse your roots while keeping the water from pouring onto your face. You prepare for a cold shock but the water that soaks into your hair is the perfect temperature—not scalding hot, not freezing cold. Some water sprays over his hand, falling onto your eyelids and cheeks.

“Sorry,” Renjun murmurs. He holds the head farther away, running his fingers gently through the roots of your hair. He’s so close you can feel his breath, warm against your temple. You can feel his body, hovering over yours, and maybe it’s just your imagination, but warmth seems to emanate from it.

His friends would laugh at you if you described Renjun as soft to their face, but it’s the only adjective that captures the way he works the water through your hair. Soft and gentle and careful and nothing like the Renjun that has to corral everyone into his car at 3 in the morning. And yet this Renjun doesn’t feel like a stranger to you.

Washing your hair takes a lifetime, but as soon as he steps away and turns off the water, you miss it. You miss him, even though he’s only a couple feet away.

“You can open your eyes now,” he says. As soon as you do, he tosses a towel at you. It hits you in the face before you can get your hands up.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” Renjun says, not sounding sorry at all. He manages to hold back the laugh but still grins at you, unashamed. He steps forward and pats your face dry, with the same gentleness as before, though there’s still a mischievous glint in his eyes. You yank the towel away before he gets any ideas, drying off your face on your down and wrapping it around your hair. You wring it out a couple times before letting go, doing your best to get it to fall evenly around your head.

You raise your eyebrows at Renjun. “Okay, how bad is it?”

“Okay, first of all, I’m insulted that you think there’s any way I’d fuck up you hair,” Renjun says. “And it looks really good. Blonde suits you.”

You take a deep breath and pull out your phone, studying yourself in the mirror and… he’s right. The color is even, somewhere between blonde and orange that is unavoidable when using bleach. Radical hair changes generally end in tears but looking at yourself in the mirror, you don’t feel the usual dissonance. The hair is different but somehow more familiar than the “normal” you that doesn’t feel right anymore.

“I’m right,” Renjun says.

You smile. “Yeah, you are.” You put down your phone, meeting his eyes. “Thank you, Renjun.”

“For what?”

“Doing all of this for me,” you say.

“It’s the least I could do,” he mumbles. “You’re my friend.”

You shake your head. “Thank you anyways.”

Renjun just shrugs and grabs the bowl, rinsing out the bleach in the sink. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s avoiding your eyes.

You do your best to clean up the bleach from the floor, busying yourself until Renjun finishes. You wonder if you’re imagining the tiles getting a little bit whiter. Finally, he turns off the water and glances at you.

“You’re really happy with it?” He asks, sounding more like he doubts you rather than changing his opinion.

“Yeah,” you say, standing up. “I think it’s the ‘me’ of right now, you know?”

“Not really.”

“Like, I feel disjointed, and blonde hair is definitely not me, but it's the me that feels kind of all over the place, so even though it doesn’t look like me, it looks like me.” You wring your hands together, fingers tinged red.

“That makes no sense,” Renjun says, “but I think I get what you mean.” He smiles. “And I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets.”

So he did think this was a potential mistake? Why didn’t he say anything?

Renjun turns back to the sink, but before he can turn the water on, your voice calls his name. “Renjun?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t turn around.

“Why didn’t you fight me on this?”

He doesn’t move for a long moment. You wish you could see his face. “I have been told by certain people,” he begins, which is code for Donghyuck and Yangyang certified their position as Renjun’s worst nightmare. He turns to face you, wiping his hands on a towel.

“That I have a tendency to be overly opinionated in a generally negative direction. And I thought about it, and I realized I'm never really fully supportive, whether it’s a big decision, or, like, coffee, and I’ve always been this way, but, apparently, it’s especially… apparent with you.” He frowns. “This is all coming out wrong. I’m trying to say that it’s different when I’m around you. I’m different.”

Your eyes jump between his, trying to decipher what he’s saying. “Different?”

“I care a lot about you,” Renjun says, “more than anyone, actually.”

“Oh.” You blink once, twice. “Wait, you like me?”

Renjun’s eyes shift to the floor. “Yeah.”

You can’t help but let out a short laugh, reeling at the absurdity of it all. Renjun likes you? But he’s Renjun. Even though he’s the most common main character in your daydreams, you never once realistically thought he might be fantasizing about you too. But he likes you.

“I really didn’t want to say anything, I mean, before anything else you’re my friend, and I don’t want to ruin that,” Renjun says rapidly. “We’re good friends, and I really didn’t want to be the guy that pretends to be your friend but just wants to date you the whole time, that’s really not what I was trying to do, it’s just—”

“Renjun.” You put a hand on his shoulder and he freezes mid sentence, mouth still hanging open a little. Before he can move, you lean closer, the type of line you’d only dare to cross in your dreams.

“I’d like to kiss you,” you say softly. He blinks, eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

“I’d like that,” he finally breathes. So you kiss him.

It starts light, his lips exactly as you imagined—soft and warm. His arm works its way around your waist, pulling you closer. The other works its way into your hair, still wet and sticking to your head. Renjun kisses like he’s been planning this for a long time, and maybe he has. Every movement is slow and careful, until he’s stolen all your air and even then you don’t want to pull away.

Your bravery fades the minute you meet his eyes. You bury your face into his chest, your cheek resting against your own hand. Renjun wraps both of his arms around you, holding you snugly in place.

“I like you, too,” you say into his chest. It’s the cowards route but if you look him in the eyes the words will never come out. “If it wasn’t obvious.”

“It wasn’t actually,” he says softly. “I think I drove all of my friends insane trying to figure out whether I should confess or not.”

“They all know?” You groan. “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”

“Yeah.” When Renjun laughs, it shakes your whole body. You can feel the rumbling, overtaking his heartbeat. “It’s okay though. It’s worth it.”

You turn your head, emerging from the sanctuary of his chest and tucking your head so that you can see his face. He smiles at you with the familiar warmth you’ve come to expect.

“Yeah,” you say, “it really is.”

Renjun grins.

“Your hair on the other hand…” He says.

“I thought you liked it!”

“I like it,” Renjun says, “but when has Donghyuck ever liked a single change to anyone’s hair?”

“Since when do you care what Donghyuck thinks?”

“I’m just saying now that we’re officially dating, my friends are going to be extra annoying,” Renjun says.

“Extra annoying? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Don’t underestimate them.”

You groan, pressing your face back into his chest. “It’s not too late to get some hair dye.”

“You are not changing your hair because of my dumbass friends,” Renjun says.

“You like it?”

“You like it,” he says. “That’s the only opinion that really matters.” He pauses then adds, “But yeah. I like it.”

You grin, lifting your head to kiss his cheek. “Maybe we should dye your hair too.”

Renjun snorts. “Oh yeah?”

“We could have matching couples hair.”

He laughs out loud this time. “Maybe we should just get some shirts.”

“Three minutes of dating and you already want matching shirts? Huang Renjun, be honest.” You push off of him until you can place your hands on his shoulders and look him in the eyes. “Are you obsessed with me?”

“Yes,” he says, layering his voice in sarcasm that still isn’t enough to hide the truth of the admission. “All day every day, all I think about is you.”

“Well, see, that can’t be true because if you were that obsessed and I’m this close, you would already be kissing me because—” You forget whatever you were going to say, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when Renjun is kissing you like this. Your hands at his shoulders slink around his neck, while his wrap around your waist, leaning so close to you, you feel your back begin to dip.

Huang Renjun is poison, the kind that turns into a heart-shaped puff of pink when the bottle is opened. You melt into his kiss and it’s still not enough. You could die, right this instant, and you don’t think you’d notice. Death itself wouldn’t be able to tear you away from this moment.

“Renjun!” Donghyuck’s voice thunders through the kitchen. “How dare you? You bastard, you’re cheating?”

You jump apart, turning to see him looming in the doorway. His glare settles on you, and you see the exact moment he realizes he recognizes you.

“Jesus Christ, you could have knocked or something,” Renjun says.

“I live here too,” Donghyuck says automatically. He squints, then looks at Renjun, then back at you. “YN? Your hair is blonde.”

For some reason, you raise your hand and wave at him. “Hey!”

“Oh my god!” Donghyuck cries. “Yangyang owes me thirty dollars!” He races back out the door, screaming something that’s lost as the door swings shut.

You glance at Renjun. “Cheating?”

He frowns at the door, still a crack open. “Did he… seriously think you were someone else? That I was cheating on my unrequited crush?”

His eyes shift to yours. A heartbeat passes and you burst into laughter. His friends might be annoying, but they’re still endearing. You press a messy, smile-infested kiss to his lips and wonder if you’ll ever get used to the giddy feeling.

There’s plenty messy in your life, plenty to doubt. But watching Yangyang and Donghyuck drag their backpacks in (apparently Donghyuck forgot his power bank and they decided to give up on camping) as they attempt to interrogate Renjun on every detail, you can’t help but feel like it doesn’t really matter. You don’t doubt Renjun. You don’t doubt blonde suits you. And you don’t doubt the power of a last minute hair decision, not anymore.

thank you for reading!! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated

[reddeaddamnation]

"Possession vs Obsession" - Sub-Zero x reader x Scorpion- Chapter III

Summary: An arranged marriage between clans in the name of peace ironically disturbs the peace of the two brothers who find themselves in a new feud. This time between themselves. Betrayal and heartache had been destined for them since she entered their lives. Y/N of the Shadow-weaver clan, promised to Bi Han, future Grand Master of the Lin Kuei, stands in front of the difficult decision- to end the war between their clans or end the war within the Lin Kuei temple.

"Outworld scum." Bi Han growled quietly watching the four armed creatures settle around a campfire, where some kind of meat was roasting. They sounded animalistic, talking in sounds only a beast would make. They didn't suffer from Tarkat. No, these beings didn't look like Tarkatans either. They had human like arms, long legs with backwards facing joints and elongated faces with jaws of a wasp or beetle. They had small, atrophied bat wings, which seemed to be useless, as they only walked. "We have to destroy their camp and kill them."

Bi Han briefly explained that they posed a threat to Earthrealm, as they poured in bunches out of some kind of portals and kidnapped lonely travelers and helpless people from their homes in villages. In front of the ninjas at the moment were only a dozen. Thankfully, from their position up on a cliff, they remained unseen, so they could create a plan. At least that was what Y/N was hoping.

"I will not be standing around you at all times like over a child." He glared at her briefly "So I hope you can fight and not hold me back." During their day of travel to this location, he had not uttered a single word to her if she had not started a conversation. And even then, he still replied with as less words as possible. It was getting on Y/N's nerves at this point. "You won't even hear a yelp from me." She glared back at him. "Come on then. Let's see if you're worthy."

The man jumped down, followed closely by Y/N, who took the form of a mist of shadow to safely land behind one of the beasts and slash it's throat. Black blood oozed out of it and the guttural noise it made startled the rest who immediately jumped from their places to attack. Conjuring spears from shadows, two were impaled straight to the ground. Sub Zero punched his way through several and smashed one's head with an ice hammer.

Y/N disappeared again, evading swords slashing at her and passed through the small croud, confusing them. Again, appearing from behind, she impaled two more on her shadowy blades and threw them to the ground. She turned around to see one of the monsters raising its sword to strike at Bi Han and with lightning reflexes, she threw a shuriken at it, making it stumble just in time for her companion to notice. He briefly looked at her with an expression she couldn't quite make out before finishing the job.

A scream gave out the position from where the next attack would come from and she managed to grip the armed hand that was swinging at her by the wrist. She could not protect herself from the punch that followed tho, making her let go and stumble backwards, allowing the sword to slash her arm. A kick to the stomach sent her flying back.

Y/N raised a figure of a robed shade skeleton, which flew right into the mouth of one of her own attackers. Moments later, he exploded in a heap of black blood. She could not escape, however, from the surprise attack from behind her back. An arm wrapped around her throat and another held onto her arms. Her attempted kicking was futile. A blade flashed in the side of her eye, pressing into her throat and drawing blood.

A chill ran down her spine then. The creature froze in place, quite literally at that. Its head was frozen and crushed, making both of them drop to the ground. When she regained her breath, she looked up at Bi Han, ready for a mouthful about how he wasn't going to save her and whatnot. That did not happen. He hesitantly extended his hand for her to take and pulled her up from the ground. The unexpected behavior caught her off guard.

"Are you hurt?" He asked quietly, looking at her face... anywhere but her eyes... meek like a kitten. She shook her head no. "Just some cuts and bruises. Nothing serious." Bi Han's eyes lingered on the deep cut on her arm which was bleeding quite a bit. "You're bleeding!" He stated, raising his voice, just barely. "I said I can handle it!" Y/N insisted.

Attempting to step away, she felt light headed all of a sudden. Bi Han noticed her stumble and quickly closed the gap between them to catch her before she fell. Her wound was deep...deep into the muscle and close to the bone... and bleeding. Fast. There was no way they would make it to the temple in time. He needed to stop the bleeding. Or he would never hear the end of it from his father and brothers...

"Bi Han..." the girl looked into his eyes with her own, half lidded, weak... He laid her down next to the fire to keep her warm. Gripping one of the metal rods from inside it, he pressed it to the wound to cartherize it. The smell of burning flesh and blood filled his nostrils. Y/N shrieked in pain, digging her nails into his bicep. "Listen to me, assassin." He commanded through gritted teeth, wincing from the pain "Stay with me. Don't give up."

Sub Zero threw the rod aside and ripped a piece of his cloth to wrap it around the wound. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped for now. He held her close to his chest, allowing her to rest as much as needed before they depart. "You are a good fighter." He spoke "I underestimated you." Just to keep her listening to his voice so she stays conscious "And I thank you for saving my life. I return the favor to you." Just to stay conscious...that's what he thought... "You risked your own for mine..."

[en-djinn]

Might b on my main but we're just going to pretend im not if thats the case 💔 but what have been your favorite comic runs so far of the ones you've read and why? I've seen bits and pieces here and there on your blog but if you had additional thoughts on them I'd love to listen :]

uhmmmmmmmmmm lets seee..... interesting question ty for asking... thinking emoji... i should list what ive actually read too.

THIS ENDED UP LONGER THAN I THOUGHT LMFAO HERES A READMORE

ive read every issue of warlock, every issue of gotg v1 and v2, the gotg xmen crossover thing with kitty pryde, infinity gauntlet, infinity war 1992, all of the strange tales stuff w warlock, the conquest annihilation and thanos imperative stuff, the annihilation thing with wraith, annihilation earthfall, one run of star lord... i dont even remember which one it was cz im intending to go thru all those again later when im done w warlock stuff anyway cz i wanna reread all the gotg stuff, thanos 2019, thanos the infinity revelation (still need to finish that entire bunch of comics), and gotg v5. i skipped ahead for that one coz i saw little magus and was going to fucking EXPLODE if i didnt see it immediately. which btw gotg v5 is by far my least fav thing ive read, i hated it except for the magus stuff which was actually what id been wanting them to do in my own ramblings @ someone who is willing to listen to me word vomit without knowing what tf im talking abt. so i think they did magus super super good and exactly how i wanted bt i literally hated everything else abt it LOL the dialogue is so.... eugh. but hey wraith was there and they drew him hot. ANYWAY. i wasnt a huge fan of the xmen crossover thing either but it did give me the cutest panel of peter ever so whatevs. (im currently in the middle of warlock and the infinity watch) also good god actually maybe it kind of is like i read a lot. i literally only started reading comics like a month ago so um. oops? im unemployed if u cant tell. i also mightve missed some stuff i dont remember

anyway. when i list it like that it feels like i havent read a lot bt then i look over to my physical copy of the warlock omnibus and its like. u could kill someone with that thing. deceptively long. anyway my fav is definitely either thanos infinity revelation or the original magus saga but like legitimately when i start metaphorically sucking off jim starlin im being so for real about it. the way he writes adam is Captivating and i adoreeeeeeeeeeeeee his art i wish he did more stuff for adam, tho u can definitely feel some of his aesthetics coming thru esp w the thanos infinity revelation stuff. it felt like that artist took all the stuff i love abt starlin's magus saga art and channelled it completely, i fell in LOVE with these pages and i fucking wish i could get this as a huge poster for my room

this is absolute peak art to me. i ADORE topsy turvy colourful wonderland style stuff with every wretched piece of my black heart. to wax poetic about it. when i start drawing weird shit this and starlin's own stuff is EXACTLY what i want to do. these comics have inspired me so much w my own art. bt anyway starlin just writes adam so specifically and with such care and while i love gotg v2 it just has nothing on the way hes written in starlin's stuff. i had no idea comics could have this level of depth cz i admit i was one of those ppl who always looked down on comic fans. im a changed creature. HIGHLY recommend reading these if anyone reading this long ramble is a fan of adam. but of course the magus saga is LITERAL required reading so i shouldnt have to say it abt that.

god me realising im gonna have to readmore this too LOL

anyway MR STARLIN! PERMISSION TO KEEP SUCKING YOU OFF SIR!

THESE ARE ALL! GORGEOUS! GORGEOUS GORGEOUS COMPOSITIONS. WONDERFUL COLOURS AMAZING SHAPES LOVE EVERY PART OF IT SOOOO MUCH. i am talking a lot abt the art bt i am. an artist. meagre tho i may be since i rarely push myself and ive never truly made an effort. bt seeing this kind of stuff gives me motivation for like 5 minutes before i give up again and thats more than most of the things in my life do. unsurprisingly, american mcgees alice is another big one for me there. bt thats neither here nor there. anyway i think the art and weird abstract compositions are VITAL to the storytelling and it would be much lesser a story without them, coz its a literal reflection of adams own mind and goddddd its so fun. so yeah. its likeeee.... sry im a massive gamer so this is just the best way i can think of to explain it. its like how gameplay is supposed to reflect the story and the world of the game u are playing, these things are supposed to be in synergy. and when they ARE it feels soooooooooo so so good and Right. its not abt stuff feeling realistic or looking correct its about the Feeling of it. the fantasy of it. the art matches the writing perfectly in the magus saga and its elevates it so much. its what makes adam an irresistible character to me, warlock and magus both.

i honestly wish we'd seen starlin write smth gotg... unless he did and i just dont know cz im still learning abt this stuff but i dont think he did? but likeee... aughhh... his adam with some version of his own peter... id love to see it. again, i rly did like gotg v2 and the designs from it are BY FAR my favs coz i adore that brand of edgy design style and ik that artist did wraith too and <33333333333 but in terms of writing? it couldve been more. bt i also do appreciate that theres a lot of guardians and u have to juggle and do justice to them all, adam cant be the main character ALL the time. even tho hes um. kind of the literal cosmic main character. bt anyway. yea

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet p.6 (ellie’s journals)

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: a significantly different writing voice! this is going to be a very different vibe from the other chapters since i had to write it as i imagine ellie would (which is a lot different than i do). slight nsfw content (mdni), language, mentions of violence/gore, angst, ellie’s pov is actually really depressing

a/n: soooo i know it’s been almost 3 months...and i’m really sorry about that! a lot of stuff happened in my life and i kind of fell off writing for quite some time. but i finish series, so i’m going to get through exoplanet in its entirety so i can finally give you all closure. some preliminary notes: know that these are modeled after how i imagine ellie would journal if she did journal this much. canonically she didn’t do that much writing that follows a narrative like it does here. i think it’s honestly a little ooc for her to be emotionally responsible enough to talk out her feelings, but given that there’s no other way to tell her side of the story (save for legit rewriting it from her perspective, which would take another 6 months or so and be horrifically repetitive), i decided to just suck it up and write it. i’m sorry if it sounds awkward, since she definitely doesn’t write in a voice that i have much experience with. the next chapter will be better!

word count: 5.5k

tags~ @intrnetdoll @dazedshoon @lovecaraya @pctcr @sariyaflowr @loser-keiji @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @elliesbabygirl​ @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower @muthafuckingstargirl @elliewilliamsissubermommyoml @eviestevie-14 @quicksilversg1rl @guacala @crtcrp @overtrred28

(i haven’t updated this yet bc my tags aren’t working)

a special special SPECIAL thanks to both @roarriita and @elliesflower​ for being soooo sexy and betaing for me. you both are so wonderful and helped me sm in feeling good enough to post this :)

without further ado, enjoy ellie’s journals!

January 20th, 2038

Today’s been…fucking…

I don’t even know where to start. I don’t get why this sort of shit always happens to me. First it was being bit and somehow surviving. Then it was getting carted off across the country. And now some girl basically falls out of the sky, claiming that she comes from some sort of paradise up North?

I’ll spare the immediate details. I don’t think I’ll forget the basic stuff—her name, the way she looked clutching at her knees in the clearing and shaking. That stupid shirt she had on and that expensive scarf.

I still want to believe that she’s just a liar who happened to get lucky with running into us, but even without Joel vouching for her story, I don’t think I’d ever be able to buy that she’d been living in the same world as us. I’ve never met someone without scars before. I didn’t know that there were people out there who didn’t have marked up arms and faces. Or people without calluses. Did you know that hands can be totally smooth?

Anyway. Tommy says that he’ll try and reach out across the contacts he has. Joel has her living right down the hall from me in the meantime, so now I have to share my bathroom. Hopefully the Terranovan authorities are good at finding people. She takes so fucking long to shower. It’s a wonder the whole compound still has hot water.

[One page of drawings follows: Dina smiling in the snow on her horse, Joel playing his guitar]

January 25th, 2038

Maria says that they’re thinking about breeding Shimmer soon. I know she told me because that means I’ll need to ride another horse for a little until she recovers and I know that we need another generation of foals, but it still made me cringe for Shimmer’s sake. She’s too free-spirited to be a mother. She doesn’t deserve that.

I went stargazing last night. It was pretty. Lots of shooting stars. I ran into the girl while I was coming back from the meadow. She gave me a weird look, and I could tell she wanted to ask me where I’d been but kept her mouth shut. Sometimes I regret dropping off that bag of clothes. I really fucking liked that gray sweatshirt, actually. I’m not even joking. It looks weird to see it on someone else.

[Half a page of drawing follows of the night sky with labeled constellations]

February 5th, 2038

Long time no see. I’ve been pretty busy with patrols and helping Maria with securing the walls. Joel made me try some of that coffee that our new house guest brought. It was just as awful as I remembered, but he seemed happy. So one point for the space girl. I guess.

Dina’s been hanging around more. She just broke up with Jessie (yes, again). She swears that it’s for good this time, but I’m not so sure. She also talks a lot about Y/N and what little detail she’s gathered about her life back in Terranova. I thought teasing her by asking her if she had a crush on Y/N would make her talk less about it, but it just made things worse.

I miss when things were normal.

[One page of drawings follows: one of Shimmer in cross-ties, another of a girl’s face, half-finished with the face scribbled out]

February 12th, 2038

Today I’m sad. I’m in bed with that book about astronomy that Joel nabbed for me on patrol a while ago and there’s a section I wanted to read that’s completely waterlogged. It shouldn't be a surprise. It’s decades old and has survived through an apocalypse. Normally things like this don’t bug me much because I’m so used to it. Half of my Savage Starlight collection is damaged. I don’t think I’ll ever find the first book to actually complete the series, and that’s okay, because I’ve never expected anything more. But now that I know that there’s a world out there where I’d never have problems like this, stuff like this hurts. It’s so stupid. I’m lucky to be alive. Compared to what’s left of the world population, I live a much cushier life than most. But for the first time in a while, I’m wishing for more.  

“Greed is the enemy of happiness” is what Maria would say if I ever said this kind of shit out loud. But is it really? Or is it just realizing what life can be?

[Half a page of a drawing of the solar system, with each planet labeled]

February 22nd, 2038

Maria let me pick the sire for Shimmer’s foal. It felt kind of gross, to be honest. I asked Maria if there was any way for Shimmer to choose and I was only sort of joking, but she just laughed anyway and patted my back. I won’t have to worry about finding a new horse for another two seasons or so, she told me. It’ll be weird not having her for a little.

She also told me that there was still no word from anyone who knew anything about Terranova. She said this to me in this placating voice, like she thought that I was going to punch a hole in the wall or something after hearing it. That seems to be common when it comes to people talking about Y/N and me. I don’t know why so many people think I don’t like her staying with us.

I don’t, by the way. Let me be clear. But I mostly feel indifferent about her now. She doesn’t bother me as much anymore, not since she started getting out of the house. I think she might be helping in the gardens, but I’ve never actually asked. We don’t talk a whole ton. I don’t think she likes me all that much.

[A drawing of Shimmer’s head poking over her stall door that takes up one page]

March 2nd, 2038

Today was finally our first nice day of the year. I would’ve enjoyed it more if the bird that lives in the tree outside my window hadn’t blown me out of bed at 4 in the fucking morning. I’m exhausted now. It’s been a long day. Joel says I need to take Y/N out on patrol soon. Why, I have no idea. Maybe he just wants me to actually befriend her or something, and I do nothing but patrols now. He can’t possibly expect her to be a good patrol partner.

Thankfully, I checked the logs when I came back. The route he wants me to cover with her has been the quietest all season. I doubt we’ll run into anything. If we do, I’ll probably be able to handle it. Hopefully.

[Half a page of doodles, mostly of nature and wildlife with the exception of a half-finished doodle of an arm clad in a fabric that drapes like silk and a hand with polished nails]

March 3rd, 2038

Many surprising things were learned today. I can’t believe it’s illegal to be gay in Terranova. Sorry. I shouldn’t laugh. It’s just—out of all the things they could be bothered by, it’s that? Really?

March 12th, 2038

I haven’t been good at journaling recently. I don’t really want to talk about why. You know why.

[Six pages of drawings, with many unfinished doodles of Y/N—including but not limited to her on her horse, her reading on the couch, and one with her sitting in what is a very loose interpretation of a classroom, taking notes]

March 13th, 2038

I will feel more normal tomorrow. Hopefully.

[Two pages of drawings, all of Y/N. One is her bent over a book, the other is her smiling up at you]

March 14th, 2038

I did something really stupid. I think I should probably just document this here so I don’t accidentally drunkenly spill it all out to Dina at the next bonfire. This is so embarrassing. I don’t get why I feel this way. It’s so stupid, you know? To feel anything towards someone who’s so…I don’t know. Different.

She gives me the weirdest looks sometimes. I can’t tell what they mean. It feels like she’s judging me. And why wouldn’t she be? I bet all the girls she spends her time around back home are just like her—perfect, orderly, pretty, proper. The day before I took her patrolling she gawked at the shorts I was wearing. It was borderline offensive. Actually, fuck that. It wasn’t borderline. It was offensive. You don’t just stare at people like that. She should know that.

Anyway, I invited her over to my room last night. Normal, right? Because we’ve been doing that a little since I took her on patrol, by the way. I’m not sure if I mentioned that before. But this time I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m…I don’t know. Creepy? Strange? Scary? She told me that she thought I was intimidating. And then I called her “untouched”, like how some old-timer devout Christian wackjob or whatever would describe virginity. It was so fucking weird of me. I don’t know what got into me, but she kept doing this thing where she kicked my foot with hers or touched my knee and it just threw me off. It took me forever to fall asleep last night—I kept replaying what I’d said to her, especially how I’d told her that she wouldn’t have made it if she were me like I was some sort of hardcore survivalist. I think I embarrassed her. I’m never doing anything like this again. I’m going to be dead sober every time I see her from now on.

I’ll stop talking about that. Y/N did come back after I’d made a fool of myself and showed me her collection of movies, so maybe it wasn’t so bad. I haven’t watched any movies since I was with Cat. When we first started dating, I’d invite her over and she’d sit right where Y/N did last night. I’m trying to not think of the implications, because it’s space girl, and she’s going home sometime soon.

[Three pages of drawings follow—some nature drawings of ferns and moths, others of Y/N with wet hair, her knees tucked up to her chin like she’d been in Ellie’s bed that night]

March 19th, 2038

It’s the Spring Equinox. That’s the first thing Y/N told me this morning when she saw me in the kitchen this morning. She gave me a mini lecture on what that meant for the planet’s axis tilt and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I already knew, since she seemed really excited to tell me.

I made a horrible discovery yesterday, by the way. Maria came up to me and told me that Tommy had decided to reach out to some of his other buddies up North to see if they had any connections to Terranova, and for the first time, I felt myself hoping that it wouldn’t work.

It’s awful. I shouldn’t be thinking like this. Even in Jackson, where things are comparatively much better than the rest of the world, there’s risk. Just this winter, one family had to be kicked out when they were found hiding an infected son. No one here is completely safe, just safer. I shouldn’t be selfish. Y/N needs to go where she’s meant to be, where there’s no chance of infection or invasion. I’ll be fine. I just need to get over whatever this is.

Speaking of her, I need to go get her to tell her that we’re heading out on patrol in just a few minutes. Fingers crossed she doesn’t accidentally shoot me, but Joel swore up and down that she knows how to handle a gun now. Sure. Haha.

I’m back. It’s the middle of the night and she only just left my room. I don’t know how much detail I need to go into—chances are I won’t forget this. But for bookkeeping purposes: patrol did not go so hot. I had to give her stitches without any local anesthesia. I’ve never given stitches to anyone nearly in my lap before. I was really nervous, too. I don’t think I’ve ever had to focus so much on keeping my hands steady when it came to stitching someone up before, not even with Joel.

I’m starting to think that maybe I was wrong about thinking that she didn’t like me. I still can’t tell exactly what she thinks of me, and I know that it’s a really bad fucking idea to be entertaining thoughts like these, but tonight she did something that made me reconsider. She got under the covers with me, and instead of moving away to keep us from touching, she rested her head next to mine on the pillow.

I hope she couldn’t hear how much my heart was racing. People can’t hear that kind of stuff, right? Even if they’re close?

I’m being ridiculous. There’s no way she—No. She doesn’t see me like that.

March 21st, 2038

She rested her head on my shoulder today. I don’t know what to think of it. If she was normal and grew up like the rest of us did, I would know exactly what to think. But she’s not normal, and it’s not fair of me to treat her like she is. Maybe this is, like, a culturally acceptable thing back from where she grew up. Maybe rich people just cuddle each other all the time. I wouldn’t fucking know, and unfortunately no one in this godforsaken town can help, because there’s a distinct lack of what Maria calls the “bourgeoisie”. They’re all either dead or back where Y/N grew up, doing whatever rich snobs do.

Even if it is normal for her, I feel like I can’t stop analyzing everything she does. She seems more nervous around me than she does anyone else, but she lingers like she can’t help herself. I’ve noticed that she stumbles over her words and touches me much more than is really necessary. Or at least I think she does—maybe I’m just imagining things.

But even if it means what I think it does, I can’t let myself think like this. It’s not fair to her. No one deserves to live here if they have the choice. At least the people out here know how to handle it. She doesn’t, and I don’t want her to turn into the type of person who does.

When I stitched her up and teased her about being weak and sensitive, I think she thought I was insulting her. I try not to think about it, but if I let myself wallow too much, I’ll wonder what kind of person I’d be if I wasn’t so jaded. Maybe I’d draw more, or read more, or write more. Maybe I’d be an easier person to love. I didn’t get to choose how I turned out. It just happened to me.

So if she has the choice, I’m going to do everything I can to help her make the right one. I don’t want her to be like this.

March 29th, 2038

I had a dream about Riley last night. I haven’t had one of those in years, not since I was traveling with Joel. We were back in the mall, and Riley had just turned the lights on as a surprise. I had this feeling then, like I was being given a second chance. That I could set things straight and do what was right. I woke up before I could insist that we leave.

[A drawing takes up half of the next page. It’s a crude depiction of the mall Riley turned in.]

April 4th, 2038

It’s the middle of the night again. I can’t sleep. I’m so disappointed with myself about what I did tonight with Y/N. At the time, it seemed like a really good idea. She likes me back, apparently. I was right about everything that I wrote about earlier, I guess. But it certainly doesn’t feel like I thought it would.

It’s not like there’s no part of me that isn’t thrilled that she feels the same way. That’s why I gave in and slept with her. But even when she told me how she felt, even before I completely lost my self-control, something heavy was already hanging over me. Regret, maybe. Or guilt. I don’t know. What I do know is that this can’t last. I can’t make this good for her like I want to. She needs to go back, and she needs to be able to feel like she can make that choice without feeling like she’s leaving anything good behind.

I’m not a spiritual person. but even so, I can’t help but feel like that dream of Riley was a sign. This is my second chance. I’m not going to fuck it up this time. I’ve already been an accomplice of so much suffering. Y/N is going home, and I’ll never see her again when she does. That’s that.

It took all I had left in me in the end to kick her out. She looked so hurt, and the fact that she tried to hide it made it even worse. I wish I could tell her why this can’t work, but I don’t think she’d understand.

[A drawing of Y/N kissing Ellie’s palm follows, her hair slightly mussed]

April 6th, 2038

I need to stop making rash decisions like knocking on her door late at night and asking her to come over. I really don’t know what’s gotten into me, because whenever I see her now, I can’t help but freeze up. Like last night, when she kissed me and touched my face and told me she thought I was a good person. I panicked and told her—well, nevermind. I don’t really want to repeat it here. It was mean, but I didn’t know what else I could do to get her to stop.

She was already tearing up by the time she left. I had to sit down and breathe deeply for a few minutes before I was sure I wasn’t going to be sick. I don’t really think I want to write more about this right now. It just makes me sad how unfair this all is. Of course the one time after Cat that I meet someone I really like it just has to be in one of the cruelest scenarios possible. I just have no idea what to do.

[Five pages of drawings follow of Y/N in bed, her head tilted back against the pillow, her eye’s half lidded, and her mouth slightly agape. Ellie redraws this multiple times, x-ing out parts that don’t seem quite right]

April 10th, 2038

I know this is none of my business, but she’s been spending a lot of time with Dina lately. She nearly got herself killed getting a gift for me with Dina yesterday, which feels like some sort of especially cruel joke. The universe isn’t being very fucking subtle right now.

If what I’m worried about is right, at least Dina has the option to come with her up North. She’d test negative.

April 20th, 2038

I would really like it if I could have one short break from the misery that’s my life right now. I turned 20 yesterday, accidentally introduced Y/N to my ex, proceeded to get much drunker than I meant to, completely fell off my rocker and asked Y/N to stay the night, and then discovered this morning that not only has Terranova found Y/N but that my strategy of keeping Y/N at arm’s length completely failed.

She wants me to come with her, and she’s threatening to stay here otherwise. I did the only thing that I could think to do and snapped at her.

I’m so tired of this. I hate having to act like I don’t care. This is the third time now that I’ve had to say something nasty to her to keep her from getting too close. I just want to get in bed and sleep until she leaves and I can pretend like nothing ever happened and that everything is normal.

[One page of drawings of Y/N passed out in her bed and Y/N grinning while holding a lopsided cake]

April 28th, 2038

I know I haven’t been writing much again. Sorry about that. I just can’t bear to think about my life right now. I know I should be relieved—this is what I wanted. I wanted her to go where it’s best for her.

But there’s still that selfish part of me that keeps me up at night. Y/N is going to leave this place never knowing how I feel about her. Logically, that should be what I want. This way I won’t need to say a real goodbye. I know I won’t need to now, since she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. It’s really fucking immature of me to be so hurt by what she must think of me now, but I can’t stop.

I wonder how long it will take for me to stop feeling sad about this. I’ve never had to process anything like this where there’s nothing I can do. With Riley and Sam, I at least got to heal from the knowledge that I was going to help make the vaccine to save the world. But losing Y/N just because of where we come from is totally meaningless. I can go forward knowing that I made it easy for her to make the right decision, but that only goes so far.

I don’t know how I’m going to handle this. I’m going to practically live with Dina so I don’t need to be alone for the first few weeks.

I wish May 8th would just come already so she can go away and I can get on with my life.

May 1st, 2038

Things have changed some. Joel cornered me in the kitchen last night and told me that I needed to grow up and just appreciate the rest of the time I had left with Y/N. I was going to agree and try to walk past him, but he stopped me and told me that he needed me to escort Y/N. I guess he’s right. She can’t go alone, and Joel and Tommy are getting a little too old for week-long expeditions into the wilderness.

He also told me that I need to apologize to her and make things right, saying shit like I’d regret it forever if things ended between us like this. I don’t want to admit it, but I think he’s right. When I told him that she’d originally threatened to stay if I didn’t go with her, he blinked, hard. Then he told me that he had an idea.

I’m faking it. I’m telling her that I’m going, even though I’m going to leave her when she gets picked up. I don’t know how I’m going to pull it off. When I told her in the meadow last night, she was so happy. I know it’s really sappy and cliche to say this, but I felt my heart shatter, bit by bit. I’m not a very good liar, not to people who are important to me. But I suppose I’ve been lying to her all this time, kicking her out of my room and telling her that I didn’t want anything more with her.

I can do this, I think. I have to do this, or else she might threaten to stay, and I don’t think I have it in me to be cruel again. Not to her. I guess I’ll just trick myself into feeling like I’m actually coming with her, like we have a chance of actually being together. I don’t know. We’ll see.

[One drawing of Y/N laying down in the meadow that takes up half a page]

May 3rd, 2038

It’s easier than I expected. Y/N sleeps over in my room at night, and if I don’t think too hard about it, I can pretend like things will always be like this.

I’m getting to be such a sap, though. I almost broke down in the bathroom today while I was getting ready. It was over the stupidest thing—a toothpaste bottle. Y/N always folds it so neatly, making a perfect, tight spiral of plastic near the end. It used to really bother me when I first had to share with her (because who does that—it’s weird and doesn’t do anything since she doesn’t manage to squeeze out the extra in the bottom anyways), but the thought of throwing it out when it finally emptied and having to find another one that’ll never be folded again hit me and suddenly I was counting my inhales and exhales. I don’t really give a shit about toothpaste. It’s just that it was the moment that I realized that she’s really going to be gone soon, you know? Slowly but surely, the evidence of her stay here will be wiped away and replaced. Someday I’ll forget all the little details about her.

She’s knocking on my door. I need to stop being so depressed and go see her before she picks up that something’s wrong.

[One small doodle of Y/N smiling and rolling her eyes while brushing her teeth]

May 6th, 2038

Dina’s coming now. Y/N told me this morning after she went to say goodbye. I feel really shitty about this. I guess I should tell her that I’m not going now, because this way Y/N needs to go home to get Dina the help she needs, but I just can’t bring myself to. I’ll have to escort both of them to the pickup spot anyway since Dina’s weaker now that she’s pregnant, and the thought of having to spend a full week with Y/N after she knew I lied to her makes my skin crawl. I can’t tell who I’m trying to protect by doing this—me or her. Maybe both.

I’m losing my two favorite people here, and they don’t even know it yet. But this is the best option. This is my chance to finally do some good in the world.

May 7th, 2038

I’m about to go stargazing with Y/N for the last time. I don’t think I’ll be writing in here again until I get back. I don’t want to risk losing this while I’m out in case something crazy happens. Which it probably will, but I canonically happen to be really good at living when shit hits the fan. Also—I don’t imagine Y/N to be a particularly nosy person, but if she ever came across this and thought it was a book or something, it would make things really awkward. So, you’re staying tucked carefully under my bed until I come back later this month.

I don’t know how to handle this sort of goodbye. I don’t really know how to handle any sort of goodbye, I guess, but at least I’ve been through them before. I may not do it well, but I know how to live when people I love die. But this isn’t like that. No one is dying (hopefully), and more importantly, I know it’s a goodbye this time. I see it coming on the horizon and I can’t even tell anyone about it. How does anyone deal with that? How does anyone cope?

Y/N’s knocking on my door now. I need to go before I start thinking even more and do something stupid like start crying or whatever.

I’ll be back in about two weeks.

June 1st, 2038

Sorry for not writing. It’s been pretty shitty, actually. It took me 5 extra days to get home because some scavengers gave me trouble. I hardly slept for most of them. I ran out of ammo about 4 days out and had to use my knife for everything I ran into until I was able to raid the cabinets of this abandoned cabin. Nearly got taken out by a clicker, too. It was not fun. It was especially not fun because I was not feeling super great to begin with, for obvious reasons.

Things haven’t gotten any better since getting back to Jackson. Y/N didn’t take her stupid Exoplanetary Systems textbook and now I’m struggling with whether or not I should throw it out. The rational side of me says to keep it because it was published after the outbreak and probably contains updated information that isn’t anywhere else. The rest of me doesn’t even want to look at the stars anymore because it reminds me of her.

It’s really hard not to blame her for ruining everything. I can’t go out and ride my own horse without thinking about the first time we went on patrol together and she dropped my gun and nearly killed one of us. And I can’t even relax in my own home, because I’ve spent almost every night with her since March in my bed. Sometimes when I hear a creak in the middle of the night I assume it’s her walking down to the bathroom or getting water until it hits me again that she’s never coming back.

I know I’m being melodramatic. There are many other worse problems I could be having right now. But I don’t even have my best friend anymore. I wonder if Dina and Y/N are angry with me for lying. I wonder if they’re settling in okay. I hope that Y/N manages to fix whatever her research was and that Dina gets better.

[Twenty pages of drawings of Y/N and Dina together. Some are snippets of them on their expedition to the pickup site. Others are pictures of Y/N and Dina walking around with smiles on their faces in what looks to be a city]

June 21st, 2038

It’s been over a month since I’ve last seen her. I had a breakdown while getting ready for bed when I realized that I didn’t remember what her voice sounded like anymore.

[Ten pages of half-finished drawings, each with its face scribbled over]

June 28th, 2038

I don’t think I really remember what she looks like—not exactly. I’ve been trying to draw her because I’m still in the habit of making decisions that are definitely not good for my mental state. I just can’t do it, and it isn’t for the lack of trying. Every time I get to her eyes I keep drawing something that looks wrong, but I can never tell why. I compare it to my earlier drawings of her from when we first met and it feels like meeting her for the first time again.

Joel says it’ll pass and that he’s proud of me for doing the right thing. Jessie and I have been hanging out more. Even if he won’t admit it, I can tell he’s miserable without Dina. But he understands why she had to go—just like how I feel about Y/N. And Dina too, of course. Jackson feels like a ghost town without her.

July 17th, 2038

I haven’t been writing or drawing in here for a while, I know. I was going to just go ahead and start a new journal—you know the one that Maria gave me for Christmas with the dark blue cover—but it didn’t feel right to just stop without explaining. Otherwise I’ll feel like an asshole for wasting so much paper.

I don’t want to move on from what happened with Y/N and Dina. I really don’t, but I don't think I have a choice. If I keep going on like this, I’ll never be able to live normally again. I’m just sick and tired of being sad all of the time. So I’m not going to write here anymore. I don’t think it’s realistic for me to forget all about it, because I don’t want to forget her. Not really. But I guess if I want to get better, I’ll need something different. So, here’s that. The beginning of my fresh start. “Fresh start” and you call me overdramatic!! haha. Y/N was here!

(You left this on your nightstand. I promise I didn’t read too much. I opened it because I thought it was your sketchbook. I’m going to put this back since I hear you walking down the hall now.)

ok as an aside my blog is broken so my stuff isn’t notifying people when i tag/showing up on dashes or in tags. please reblog if you’re comfortable so people can actually find this! thank you!

final a/n: i totally get it if this wasn’t quite your cup of tea this time—i just really wanted to iron out ellie’s pov before their reunion in the end. which is happening and not a spoiler because i have always promised a hea! this was a change in pace for the story and i promise you that the next chapter will be more normal/align more with my normal writing style. i have also changed my mind (probably) and have decided to stick with writing an epilogue! so two more chapters are coming before this is totally over. thank you so much for waiting and being so patient! i love you all dearly ok bye bye now

[xcerizex]

"say hi to cancer~"

The little painter thinks she has it in the bag, until she pulls the cake out from the oven and finds it a burned atrocity.

She made another one after that, obviously. But who would've thought that her boyfriend would end up eating the black cake she took out as a joke with complete seriousness?

(modern!alkaid, alkaid x mc, 3rd pov, fluff, humor, alkaid is hopeless, 2.1k+ words)

Ping.

Hearing the sound of a bell, she quickly scrambles over to the oven in order to check her latest work, footsteps hurried and excited. To celebrate a big project he'd finished, she planned on going over to Alkaid's place with a surprise cake as a reward. It's been ages since she last saw him really, so she did all she could to make the best cake possible on her first try, evident by the various edible decorations she's splayed out on the kitchen table.

But...

"Here we go...HACK! COUGH—"

After opening up the oven with vigor, she was immediately assaulted with fumes of black smoke pouring right out into her face. The smoky gas fills her lungs with one breath, and she fans away the black smoke with tears in her eyes, coughing.

"Ughhhh..." It takes her a while to calm down, opting to go and open the window to air out the smoke. When she finally has the courage to take the cake out from the oven, she freezes, eyes wide and blurts out, "What is this?"

What is it, indeed. If it weren't for the round shape of it, one could easily mistake the charred item for a very large piece of charcoal, now wholly unrecognizable from its original form. It looked as if a single bite into the deformed cake would sent someone to the hospital, and the sight of it made the little painter physically flinch.

She absolutely could not serve this to Alkaid, lest she send her boyfriend into an early grave.

She wants to toss it, almost does so too, hands trembling on the tray as she holds the burned cake over the trash bin from the weight, until an idea lights up in her head like a light bulb, and she pauses.

"Wait," slowly, she voices out her thoughts. "What if I just...gave it to him but don't let him eat it?"

Oh no, now she can't stop her imagination. The sight of Alkaid's face transforming to utter shock at the sight of the burned atrocity plays out in her mind, and involuntarily, she giggles.

It's rare for her to get the upper hand over Alkaid, so why not turn this opportunity into a fun little joke?

'Everything should be fine so long as I don't let him eat it.' She nods to herself in satisfaction, a grin already forming across her face at the thought. 'All I have to do is swipe this out after a few minutes with an actually edible cake and we're good.'

Invigorated at the idea of her new prank, she hurriedly orders a new, pretty cake box. One for the burned mess, and one for Alkaid's actual gift. After all, now that she's committed to the bit, might as well go all out and wrap both boxes as fancy as she can.

She thinks she should decorate the burned cake too, until she takes a look at the clock and decides that there isn't enough time. Instead, she takes a piping bag, and draws a cute face taking the form of Alkaid smiling on the top. She thinks she did a pretty good job if she did say so herself, having made the colours match Alkaid as much as she could. But when she takes a quick glance at the clock, she realises that her perfectionist as an artist had cost her too much time painting the cake.

'I really should get to work on that other cake now.'

Behind her, Beanie yowls in disapproval.

After an arduous fight against checking every step of the way twice, she'd finally managed to produce a reasonably presentable, and definitely non-burned cake out from the oven and hopefully, it tastes as great as it looks.

Once she's done decorating the cake—layering swathes of lime-green frosting topped with white chocolate and palm sugar—she gets set to work in packing the cake into a beautiful pre-made box. She does the same for the other cake too. If it could even be called a cake, that is.

With Beanie tucked into one arm and the other carrying the two cakes, she quickly finds herself approaching the front door of Alkaid's house, and vaguely hears the meowing of a cat growing louder and louder. Hearing Sparkles, Beanie meows back from her arms.

To Alkaid, Sparkles' cries are a sign of her arrival. Maybe it's because it's been so long since he last got to spend time with her, that he began to look forward to seeing her again even more than usual, and he's unable to keep a smile off his face.

So, before she could ring his doorbell, he walks to the front door—footsteps lightly giddy—and opens it up to find her staring up in surprise at him. Chuckling, he says, "Hi."

"Alkaid!" Her eyes light up in greeting. "How'd you know I was here?"

"My personalized girlfriend-detector informed me." Alkaid says with a straight face, while stepping aside to let her in as he gestures to Sparkles swarming around their feet. "It's extremely accurate too, so I'll know it's you the moment Sparkles starts meowing for more than ten seconds."

"Well damn." She fakes exaggerated disappointment as she steps inside, sighing loudly. Her eyebrows pinch together in a false frown, forming the picturesque image of a maiden unsatisfied. "I guess I'll never be able to rob your place in secret now."

"If you want to rob my place, give me a call beforehand. I'll unlock all the doors."

At that, she pauses and stares into Alkaid's face, concluding that he was, indeed, being serious. Frowning for real this time, she says, "Please don't, I don't want anyone else robbing my boyfriend's house before I get there."

His face morphs into that of jubilant laughter, with the rare, beautiful chuckle she treasures so much ringing about the house like blessed bells, and oh, does she love it.

"Come on, now." She gestures him towards the living room table with the air of a fussy mother, and plops Beanie down on the floor. "I said I'd make a cake for you, didn't I? Now go on and sit down so that we can enjoy it, it's been ages since we've hung out together and I shan't waste anymore time."

Hearing her switch to fanciful language, he covers the small grin creeping up his face and nods obediently. "Yes, of course, madam."

She's happy with him playing along, and confidently heads into his kitchen to fetch utensils and plates. After having come over to his place a dozen times, she's naturally memorized where all of his cutleries were as if it on were the back of her hand. Absentmindedly, she picks out a cute set of small, white plates with floral patterns and cat-shaped mugs.

Picking out a herbal tea, she leaves the tea leaves to steep as she balances the plates on one hand, and brings out the burned cake with the other. Doing so, she chuckles silently to herself.

'Wait till he sees this.'

"Pan-pan-pan-pan-pan~" She mimics the sound of a drumroll with a lovely voice, as she re-enters the living room, cake in hand. "Sorry for the how the cake looks, but I couldn't quite get it right since it was my first time baking a cake. I hope you don't mind!"

She doesn't get a good look at his face as she sets the burned cake down in front of him, desperately hiding her expression away so as not to give away the large grin forming on her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him smile helplessly.

"That's quite the interesting decoration you have there." She hears him say, his voice otherwise calmer than she had expected, if not for the hesitant tone of his voice.

'That's the issue here?' She wondered. Maybe he was just trying to play down his bewilderment. She's tempted to take a peek at him, but when she feels an uncontrollable giggle bubble up her throat, she swallows it down and thinks better of it.

Surely, by now, Alkaid has paled at the sight of the cancer-inducing cake, and is probably struggling to come up with a proper response to his girlfriend's hardwork, judging by pause in his actions. In a hypocritical attempt to save him, she claps her hands, says "Oh no! I forgot about the tea!" and rushes back to the kitchen to fetch the real cake of the day.

Maybe she should've taken a closer look at his face, and maybe then she would've realised the expression on his face was anything else but bewilderment.

Humming to herself, she pours the tea into the cat-shaped mugs she brought out earlier, gleefully imagining his face crumbling into betrayal as she presents him with an actually edible cake. As if wanting to hammer it home, she yells into the living room, "Hope you enjoy it, the tea is almost ready to go with it too!"

By this point, a wicked grin has formed across her face, as she picks up the tea tray while balancing the non-burned cake on the other. But it's only when she steps past the entrance of the kitchen, does she hear the distant clatter of utensils.

And it's only when she takes two steps into the living room, does she see her boyfriend take a bite of the cancer-inducing cake she left out as a supposed joke.

"!!!"

Suppressing a scream, she rushes forwards, careful not to drop the tea set and cake, and sets them both on the table before waving her arms in panic, yelling, "Alkaid?! Why did you eat that?!"

"Ah..." The little painter feels her heart drop to her stomach as she hears him swallow it down, and looks back at her with clear confusion in his eyes, saying, "Because you made it for me?"

She gapes at him. Wanting to assuage her worries, he tries to calm her down. "It's alright, it tastes just fine," he says with his usual smile, as if he didn't just eat a piece of charcoal.

'That's not the problem here! And there's no way it would taste "just fine" at all!' She swallows her words down, and tries to stay calm. "B-but, I saw you hesitating eating it earlier because no matter how you look at it, it's not edible!"

Alkaid sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. "Well, the painting on the top of the cake looked really nice, I thought it was a shame to destroy it and eat it up."

'That was what made you hesitate?!'

"And besides..." Alkaid tilts his head at her. "You made it for me, of course I wanted to try it. It's the first cake you've ever baked, isn't it?"

'Ah, I should just push him down and—'

Abruptly, she slaps herself in the face, groaning, and Alkaid is of course, startled. But before she could let him get in a word of concern, she dives her hand into the box containing the real cake and brings it out with newfound energy. At the sight of the beautiful cake, Alkaid's eyes widen.

Feeling an embarrassed blush creep up her cheeks, she looks to the side as she coughs, saying, "I made another cake."

"Oh..."

Now truly, Alkaid is left dumbfounded for real this time. While she had achieved her original goal in the end, her underestimation of her boyfriend's acceptance level to her weirdness had caused unwanted collateral damage. That collateral damage namely being Alkaid's stomach.

"So um..." Setting down the cake, she shyly picks up the dessert spoon she brought out earlier and suggests, "...Let's dig in?"

"...Ahahahaha!"

Alkaid covers his mouth with the back of his hand to stifle his laughter; and succeeds only barely. Wheezed chuckles escapes past his lips as he shakes, trying to push down not only the roars of laughter, but the love that threatened to escape him whole.

He is afraid. Afraid that if he were to show her all of his love, it would be too overwhelming. So for now, she remains unaware of his restraint.

But soon, he can't help himself anymore, and lets out peals of laughter as he throws his head back.

"Ugh..." Groaning, she gave him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect you to actually eat the burned cake... I honestly expected you to say something like, "I can't eat this!" and balk."

"No, it's okay, hahaha..." Fixing himself upright, the smile he shows her is almost blindingly bright. "That's on me in the end. I just really wanted to eat your cake."

"...You only ate one bite, right?"

"Hm? No, I had two."

The little painter bites back another silent scream, and makes a mental note to send her boyfriend to the hospital after this to check for cancer.

Thankfully, the second cake tasted great, but all the little painter could do was hide her face in shame as her boyfriend praised her baking skills. Meanwhile, oblivious to the entire fiasco, the two cats continued to occupy themselves by gnawing on Alkaid's pillows with fervor.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY RHEA!!! I hope the fic is to your taste because I'm too much of a coward to write a size-kink smut fic based on Kamikakushi.