#also thank you so much for the compliment

[munsonsmixtapes]

Mechanic Eddie? The reader is Eddie’s girlfriend or wife and she’s stopping by the shop cause they have lunch plans. While she’s waiting for Eddie one of the other mechanics (who Eddie cannot stand) starts hitting on her thinking she’s a customer and Eddie gets mad… 👀 and reader and Eddie don’t make it to the lunch plan cause Eddie goes feral 🤭

She’s back at it again with amazing ideas!

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, creampie, cockwarming, reader gets hit on by one of Eddie’s employees

The shop is practically empty when you enter it and everyone stops to wave at you, making sure to do so since they all seem to want to kiss up to the boss’s wife to get on Eddie’s good side. And as long as you’re happy, he is. You’re the most important thing in his life so he takes your opinion very seriously. When he opened the shop, he let you pick out a lot of the decorations. And he can’t help but smile proudly when customers compliment the 50’s themed decor that was all thanks to you.

You’re so in love with each other and everyone knows it. All of his employees love you and they’re all so respectful, treating you like they do him. It also helps that you bring them sandwiches pretty much every time you come in.

Rod is the new guy who always flirts with the women who come in, even when they bring along their romantic partners and he’s one more complaint away from being fired. Three strikes and he’s out. He’s got one more left and Eddie really hopes he doesn’t blow it.

But when you show up in your short dress, that promise Rod made to Eddie about being on his best behavior goes out the window. He watches you move through the shop, handing out sandwiches and making conversation with the other employees and he has a one track mind now, completely abandoning his current task as you approach. He thinks that maybe his flirting will finally work out.

He leans against the hood of the car he’s working on, making an attempt to make you notice him and you do, making a beeline for him with your basket of sandwiches. You figure he must be the new guy Eddie’s constantly complaining about and now you’re interested to see if he’s actually as bad as your husband says because he always tends to be a bit dramatic.

You put on your bright smile and hold the basket out to Rod. He happily takes a sandwich then steps forward and makes an attempt to put on a flirty smile. Yours matches his, but he doesn’t know that you’re just trying to be nice.

“I’m y/n,” you smile, putting your hand out for him to shake and he takes it despite all of the grease on his hands. You give it a shake then quickly pull away, already feeling uncomfortable being near the man.

“Rod,” he says with a nod, stepping even closer and now you’re fearing for your safety. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing?”

“I think maybe I should reintroduce myself again,” you reply. I’m y/n, y/n Munson, Eddie’s wife.” You hold up the hand you’ve got your ring on and Rod’s mouth falls open at the giant rock on your ring finger. The thing is so huge that he’s sure he could see it from outer space.

He doesn’t seem to care that you’re married because he’s stepping even closer, causing you to step back again and again until your back hits someone’s chest. Their hand lands on your shoulder and just from the weight of it, you just know that it’s your husband.

“That’s the final straw. I’ve given you plenty of chances to change but I haven’t seen any growth. You have made so many people uncomfortable and now you’re hitting on y/n? Get out.”

Eddie is normally very relaxed so seeing him so riled up is so different. He’s always so sweet to you so this isn’t something you see very often. But when you do…god, you’re nothing but a puddle. The way he’s so angry and on your behalf makes you feel the need to go clean yourself up, just knowing that you’re making a mess in your panties.

“What-”

“Did I stutter? Apologize to my wife and the fuck out!” Eddie’s pointing towards the door and you’re no longer scared but rather turned on by how protective Eddie is of you. You know he was wanting an excuse to fire the guy anyway, but still. He’s always quick to jump to your defense and you feel so loved because of it. He’s your hero until death do you part.

“I’m sorry,” Rod apologizes then makes a scene of leaving the shop, throwing different tools around while screaming expletives and how he’s going to sue for wrongful termination.

You laugh it off, not actually scared anymore as Eddie protectively wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. Once Rod is gone, his tired screeching as he pulls out of the parking lot, everyone goes back to work and you and Eddie go to his office, business as usual. It’s just a little blip.

Once safely inside his office, you sit on his desk, admiring the photo he has of the two of you on your wedding day, sharing a kiss. He has copies of that exact photo everywhere, even keeping one in his wallet to look at when he misses you, which is anytime he’s not around you.

You spread your legs and he steps between them. You grab hold of his shirt and pull him closer, pressing your lips to his as he cages you in, pressing his hands against the desk. You both know he needs to get back to work, but the position you’re in and the need is far too strong to ignore.

You watch him slowly sink to the floor, pulling your panties down as he does and once they’re off, he sticks them in his back pocket before discarding your shoes. He then grabs hold of your thighs and pulls you closer, draping your legs over his shoulders. Your dress is pushed up as he kisses up your legs, murmuring what you just know are sweet nothings into your skin.

“Shouldn’t I be the one giving you head?” You ask and Eddie can’t help but let out a chuckle.

“But I’m not the one who looks fucking hot today so really, I’m just giving you what you rightfully deserve,” he replies, peppering your inner thigh with kisses before shoving his face into your cunt.

He’s being nothing but gentle, teasing as he goes in with his tongue, putting just a little pressure on your clit as you let out a moan, making sure to get his hair out of the way so it doesn’t interfere with his work. You move it this way and that as he gets more aggressive, biting down again and again. Both of you are grateful that he had all of that soundproof material installed for exactly this reason. Let’s just say that this isn’t the first time that you’ve been in the exact position in this exact setting…

He somehow gets you even closer, pushing his face further into your cunt as your heels dig into his back, moan after moan falling from your lips. The whole thing is making you dizzy just like usual, but this time, you’re on such a high that you feel you’re seeing stars. He’s much more aggressive, more hungry than normal, acting like he didn’t do this exact thing last night when the two of you couldn’t sleep.

You’re close, you can feel it. You’re pulling on his hair and that only encourages him, putting more into it than he ever has and as you reach your orgasm, nothing but his name falls from your lips in a loud, breathy moan which makes him hard as a rock.

He doesn’t even give you time to come down when he comes up for air. He immediately presses his lips to yours, wrapping your legs around his waist and carrying you to his chair. He sits down, letting you straddle his lap as his tongue slides into your mouth so you can taste yourself on him.

Eddie grabs hold of your hips, helping your grind against him, making him even harder as you move together. He’s bucking his own hips against yours as he moans into your mouth at the feeling. He think he’s earned a fuck after making you come like he did.

You’re unbuttoning his pants as he rolls the chair back against the wall so it’s less likely to move with your activity. His pants are somehow down in an instant and you’re rolling the condom onto him before topping him, your lips moving to his neck as you begin to ride him. Soft and slow as you kiss his neck, his hands moving up your back and curling into the fabric.

You’re moving slower than usual, not in any rush even though you’re in Eddie’s place of work. That’s not even something that’s on your mind. You’re so caught up in him and the way he makes you feel that you can’t possibly stop now, not for anything.

He’s bucking his hips against yours the best he can, watching you hover over him, showering him with compliments about how he’s your hero and how you can always count on him to save the day. He’s eating it up, both your words and the way you’re moving, wanting to take your time.

It always seems like you both are in a rush just because of how horny you are for each other, but this is different, it’s much more intimate, more loving. He wants to stay like that forever. And even when Eddie is coming, he’s still thinking about how much he doesn’t want to leave.

So you two stay like that for a while, just holding each other until it’s time to go home, your lunch plans- the entire reason you had even shown up-completely forgotten just like always. Now you suppose you just have to make it up to him by skipping straight to dessert.

[cheralith]

feat. karasu, otoya, yukimiya cw: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, is implied to have smaller hands, smoking, roommates au, implied aged-up characters (20s)

hi here are some more a345!tabieitaken roommates au headcanons, this time they involve more of reader :] part one here

karasu

during the warmer weather, when you and him make a habit of going to the farmer's market, there's an elderly shopkeeper that sells some peaches who had once complimented on how lovely of a couple you and him are, that you remind her of her and her late husband. feeling awkward and guilt-ridden, not having the heart to break it to her that you guys weren't actually a couple, you both laugh nervously and thank her. from then on, she gives you and karasu free peaches whenever she sees you both together and you have to pretend that you are for that fleeting moment you and him are a young couple in love within her presence.

even when he's just at home, he often still waxes his hair. he eventually lets it down and breathe properly for the weekends when you had one time smiled and complimented how nice he looks with his natural hair.

a smoker but only when he gets stressed. he tried to hide it from you when you first moved in, ashamed of his coping method, but you had told him you indulged in one or two as well from time to time since your work often put you in stressful scenarios as well. does the cigarette kiss with you when you and him smoke on the balcony together.

speaking of which, you indirectly kiss him the most. you use the same spoon he'll use when he offers you a bite of his food, drink from the same shotglass, and use the same chopsticks that he'll use to gently place food in your mouth.

when you and him open up to each other more, he enjoys hearing you talk; your voice is soothing to him (as it's canon that he has a voice fetish). sometimes may ask you to read to him if you're just lounging around and catching up on a book.

(per last hc post) he tries to teach you bass one time, but you make him nervous just by standing so close to him that he barely survives the first lesson when he has to stay behind you and help move your hands accordingly. he tries so hard not to notice how smaller your fingers are in comparison to his.

you always buy a jar of kimchi for him when you're out grocery shopping, something that he appreciates very much so as he often eats rice and whatever meal he has with kimchi.

yukimiya

loves to cook with you. he always sends you some recipe he saw online and asking if you'd like to try it out. all you'd have to do is respond yes and wow magically the ingredients have appeared before you in the loft... he'd love an extra hand to help him with all of this perhaps 👀

you are the only person that he'll ever let borrow his clothes when he found you struggling to piece together an outfit one time. had said to you that you can pick out whatever you like from his closet if you so wanted to and when you do, he feels this weird sense of ... pride? seeing you in his clothes just makes him feel giddy, knowing that your fashion senses often correlate with each other.

however, he is also not afraid to be honest and tell you upfront that your outfit may just not be right for the day if he thinks so. but you appreciate this—his honesty is refreshing.

sometimes visits you in the office if he has an upcoming shoot that he has to go to his agency's headquarters for, where you work. maybe will drop off a lunch or a coffee/tea pick-me-up he got on the way. your co-workers often tease you for it, asking you if you're secretly dating one of the models to your embarrassment. ("that can land you an hr case, y'know," an intern had joked.)

the most modest out of the three, but there will be times when some of his skin shows and it's like seeing a victorian's ankle for the first time. especially in regards to his legs, when he wears shorts, there's just this hug that surrounds his thighs so securely that the muscles can sometimes be visible through the fabric.

often gets you a small, yet artfully arrayed bouquet of flowers from the local flower shop just because "he felt like it." always feels like such a delight for him when he finds them the morning after in a vase with flowers sitting somewhere in the apartment.

otoya

mentioned this in an earlier post, but he'll often curate some monthly-ish playlists for you with songs he think you'll take a liking to. helps you introduce yourself to more genres and more artists, though he's already quite impressed with how knowledgeable you are with music.

lets you borrow his good headphones—the one where the bass booms perfectly and the melodies sound more crisp to let you fully enjoy the music.

when you first came to the loft, wow did he try his hardest to impress you. walked around shirtless even in cold weather and would try to subtly flex his muscles. often would help you grab things that were above you even if you could easily reach it ("let me help you with that, babe." "go put five bucks in the douchebag jar.")

second-best dressed next to yukki. often will post a fit check on his insta and if you're ever around, he'll insist on capturing his photo with you in it. it both serves as him flexing he has a cute girl by his side and may just boil the jealousies of his side chicks. he won't tag you though, aware of the other people that may ask who you are if they slide up (also because he likes the attention to be on him)

touchy. likes to put his head in your lap during movie nights so you can play with his hair (he uses men's 5-in-1 shampoo, how the hell is it so soft and healthy?!) or will "accidentally" lean against you on the couch if he's really zoning in on some video games.

gets a bit upset when you befriend his hook-ups. he'll sometimes wake up to you and whatever girl he had the night prior chatting and laughing about at the table as if you've been best friends for forever and can't help but feel disappointment for whatever reason.

a/n: @okkotsuus for u my dearest 💐!

[zepskies]

Hey lovely Liane!! Thanks so much for diving back into BCAS. 🥰💖 (I can't believe we're already in March of 2025 - shit's insane!)

I absolutely adored this part. Your ability to set a tone always impresses me, Alex. All the small details, from the kinds of stores in the street to Dean's PTSD bleeding through at the pop of a champagne bottle. I know I keep repeating myself, but I love seeing you lock in on world-building like that. You take a setting and breathe life into it.

That's such an amazing compliment, thank you!! 🥹🥹 For that club scene especially I tried to make it feel real with those details, and how poor Dean would be reacting to all those sounds and all the people. ❤️‍🩹

Don't get me started on the dancing scene, WHOO 😮‍💨 That was not only intense it was downright sexy. Dean truly is a dangerous flirt in every universe. Mrs. Milligan is better and stronger than me. The way I would've ruined my entire reputation with a scandal right there, smack middle of the dance floor, LOL.

Ahhh thank you so much hahaa. Dean is dangerous all right. 😝😝 She's stronger than me too, for sure!! lmao

But you also see Dean's kindness at the end. He's at least going to make her feel like she's not alone, and helps support her when she's at her lowest. 💙💙

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: Before we tune back into some 1940s drama, I just wanted to thank you all so much for your wonderful responses on Part 1 of this series. 🥹 It’s my first time doing a story like this, so I’m very happy you liked the jumpstart here. 💖💖

Prompt for @jacklesversebingo: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” by Frank Sinatra

Word Count: 3.7K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hints of PTSD, flirting, dancing…

✨ Series Masterlist

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 2: Devil May Care

After you got home from work the very next day, your apartment was entirely empty.

Predictable. Michael was still out.

This time, you counted it as a blessing. You rifled through every corner, cabinet, pocket, and drawer in search of evidence—anything you could use to prove, without even one shade of a doubt, that your husband was the unfaithful scoundrel you knew him to be. You knew it, deep in your gut. In your very soul.

You even rifled through Michael’s desk in his office, through every single folder, drawer, and booklet. You’d never done such a thing before because he was a particular man about his things, and you respected his privacy. 

That was done now. In your search, you found a useless ball of rubber bands and old coupons. You took his father’s old collection of fountain pens, which you knew Michael was precious about, and threw them haphazardly onto the desk to make room for your seeking hands through the rest of the drawers.

You even came across a small, crumpled photograph from your wedding day. This one made you pause.

You considered the picture, its bent corners and slightly grainy black and white lens. You’d worn your mother’s wedding dress, and you stared up at your new husband with the rosiest of smiles. He stared into your eyes then the way he always used to—like a man ready and willing to drown in them.

You sighed and let the picture fall from between your fingertips. It swayed onto the desk’s mahogany wood surface, and rested there. You shook your head and returned your attention to your task at hand, holding your hands to your hips.

The problem was, you didn’t see anything incriminating here…until an idea finally occurred to you. You went into Michael’s closet. You sorted through the suit jackets he still needed to get drycleaned and pressed again.

In one of the pockets, you found a receipt. 

You brought it to Sam Winchester’s office the following morning before work, along with some documents of your household expenses. Like you did the afternoon before, he identified the receipt as one for the Cotton Club, a nightclub in the Upper East Side. You had never been there in your life, but you heard it was one of the new go-to spots in town. It was the kind of place you used to wish Michael would take you to, once in a while.

“It could be a lead or it could be nothing, but I’ll check it out, along with these,” Sam said. He gathered the financial documents you gave him as well. 

“Okay. Thank you, Mr. Winchester,” you nodded.

“You can call me Sam if you like,” he said, kind, but still professional. You smiled. Unbidden, it reminded you of his brother.

“Please,” you said, your eyes briefly closing. “Just…call me by my name. My first name.” 

Dean slowly smiled. “Perfect. I like your name better anyway.” 

This time, your smile in return was genuine, if tinged with amusement. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” you replied.

Biting the inside of your lip, you gave into the urge to ask the question.

“It was nice of your brother to walk me home last night…what is he up to today then?”

“Ah, well, he’s out to lunch with a young lady he met last night,” Sam replied, with a somewhat wry, but still amused tone to his voice. You frowned.

“Last night? Does your brother meet a lot of women after 9:00 p.m.?” 

Sam chuckled. “He’s not usually wanting for company.”

“I see,” you said flatly. You should have known. The devil-may-care grin on that man was too charming to be anything less than the mark of a shameless flirt. Maybe even a scoundrel. Lord knew you couldn’t take any chances either way.

Dean returned from his day out with Vanessa. She was a nice enough girl, a knockout blonde too. She was smart, studying to be a schoolteacher. But she also tended to twitter on about frivolous things, so much that he couldn’t really remember much of what she said. She did look good doing it though. Not to mention, she let him feel her up while they kissed in one of the alleys, between the ice cream parlor and a drycleaners.

He predictably found his brother whittling away life in his office. Dean dropped his coat and hat on the hanger with a flourish. Sam raised his head from his work with an amused smile.

“Had a good day, did you?” he remarked.

“I can’t complain,” Dean agreed. “Especially when a beautiful woman’s involved.”

Sam shook his head. Before September, he hadn’t seen Dean in three years. Yet some things just didn’t change.

“You gonna see her again?” Sam asked.

Dean made a noncommittal sound. “We’ll see. The day is young, brother.”

Sam raised a finger. “Speaking of which. Mrs. Milligan came by this morning. I’ve been looking through her husband’s finances.”

“Oh really?” Dean sobered as he approached his brother’s desk. “What’d you find?”

“Overall, things seemed to be in order, until I noticed something strange,” Sam said. Dean lowered into the chairs opposite his brother at his desk, and they went over it all together. Sam appreciated another set of eyes on this, with the understanding that Dean would keep the information to himself. 

Starting roughly eleven months ago, there was a check signed to a Mr. Johnson for a moderate sum. Three weeks later, another check, this time a bit larger. For the past few months, Michael Milligan had been making these payments at least once a month, sometimes as much as three, albeit in different amounts.

“He might just have a gambling problem,” Sam said. He rubbed his chin in contemplation.

“Or it could be what she’s worried about,” Dean pointed out. “The name could be an alias. Maybe Mike’s paying for someone’s services…or paying her bills, if you catch my drift.”

Sam slowly nodded. “That’s a possibility.” He checked the dates on the documents again and shook his head. “Mrs. Milligan told me they got married about a year ago, here in the city. It would mean this guy started stepping out on her a month after the wedding.” 

Dean both could and couldn’t believe it. He might not have been a saint himself when it came to the fairer sex, but if he went through the whole ordeal of marrying one, let alone a straight-shooting woman like you, beautiful, clever…

“Geez,” he muttered. “He could’ve at least waited until the ink dried on the certificate.” 

Sam nodded in agreement. He picked up the receipt to the Cotton Club, and he shot his brother a grin.

“Wanna go to the club tonight?”

A wall of sound. That was the Cotton Club—the band on stage playing jazz tunes, loudly, if skillfully; the clanking of glasses as drinks rolled past; the clamor of heels and leather shoes as couples swung on the dance floor; and the added layer of people raising their voices to compensate. The room was filled with the smell of cigarette smoke, fighting against perfume and cologne and musk and sweat.

It was a bit overwhelming for Dean at first. He tried to ease himself into the scene with Sam at his side, even if he did jolt at the cork of a champagne bottle popping open. Sam noticed, but he mercifully didn’t say anything. He thumped a hand on Dean’s back to steady him under the pretense of a brotherly pat, adding a smile for good measure.

Sam was there to keep a lookout for Michael Milligan. Dean would help, but it wasn’t like he was being paid for it. He was largely aiming to have some fun while his brother was all serious, focused on the work. Dean was here for the community nightlife. 

The beautiful, beautiful community. As a matter of fact, there were lovely ladies everywhere. One sultry blonde was singing an upbeat, jazzy tune at the mic. Dolores Daye, said the banner above the stage.

Dean’s attention shifted from the stage to the scattered round tables outside the dance floor, as well as the chair lined up at the bar. His gaze caught on someone familiar—on you, sat at a table by yourself. His eyes widened. He slowed to a stop while Sam went on ahead.

You were stunning, almost unrecognizable in a shimmering black dress that hugged every lush part of your figure, with sleeves that draped off your shoulders. His eyes drew down your crossed legs, the sheer pantyhose, leading to a pair of tall, shining black heels.   

You wore a hat and partial veil that covered half your face, but he knew it was you. Those lips of yours were familiar on sight. Now they were painted red, dark and luscious.

“Dean?” Sam questioned him. He’d turned back when he realized his brother wasn’t keeping up with him. Dean subtly pointed you out. Sam raised his brows, but then he noticed what you were doing. You had a glass of wine in hand, and you seemed to be watching someone.

Every now and then your gaze would travel across the room, where your husband Michael was sat at a table filled with other men and women. They were laughing, drinking, playing cards. 

Sam and Dean shared a conspiring look, one that said they had the same thought. They went over to you. 

Sensing you were being approached, you looked over and found the pair of tall, familiar men with a widening of your eyes. That pretty mouth of yours fell open in surprise. 

“What’re you doing here?” you whisper-hissed. You beckoned them to sit down so they weren’t standing out so much while talking to you. Both Winchester men were broad-shouldered and tall as oaks.

“The same thing you’re doing, apparently,” Sam said, once he and Dean were sitting across from you at the table. He showed you the camera he had hidden in his coat pocket. “I’m going to see if I can get a read on what your husband’s up to, maybe collect some evidence.”

You let out a rush of breath. “Good, thank you.”

“Until then, maybe you’d be more comfortable at home,” he suggested.

Dean knew what his brother was getting at. This wasn’t the kind of place for a woman to be hanging around…unaccompanied. Not a respectable one like you, who clearly wasn’t used to being in a roaring nightclub. Plus, if Michael did slip up here, it wasn’t exactly going to be pleasant for you.

You still shook your head stubbornly. “No. I want to see it with my own eyes.”

Sam almost sighed, but Dean shot him a nod. Right then, they had an understanding. Dean would stay and look out for you while Sam tried to get closer to Michael. Sam left you and Dean together at the table thereafter, and Dean ordered a drink for himself. You sipped at your wine.

Dean glanced at you in appreciation. You really were beautiful…and not just tonight. Though he had to smile at your “disguise.”

“You think that getup is gonna fool your husband?” he remarked, gesturing at your form.

Your lips pursed, but you kept your head angled towards him, so that your hat and veil continued to hide your face from Michael’s direction.

“It has so far,” you retorted. “And this isn’t a getup.”

You smoothed slightly self-conscious hands down the skirt of your dress. Dean smiled. 

“All right, I’m sorry. Poor choice of words,” he said. He dropped his chin and raised his brows, earning your gaze under the hat. “It’s quite a dress, sweetheart.”

I’d like to see you out of it, he thought, even though he immediately stamped it down. You weren’t exactly available, no matter how delectable you were. The interesting part was, you didn’t seem to realize it as you fidgeted in your seat, a little self-consciously.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” you snipped.

His lips tugged at a smirk. He tilted your hat up a little so he could see more of your frowning face. 

“Want me to do better?” he teased. 

“I’d like you to leave me be. How about that?” you said, grabbing the edges of your hat and tilting it back down. “You’re distracting me.”

“Oh, I’m distracting?”

You met his gaze to give him a hot reply, but your words failed you. Just then, faced with his perfectly handsome, roguish face, you finally noticed how green his eyes were. Holding the gleaming reflection from the crystal chandelier above the bar, they briefly dragged over you again, like he was a starving man, and you were the very last morsel held in front of him.

It was indecent, you thought, but suddenly your mouth had gone dry.

“How about this,” Dean said. He finished off his whiskey and held out a hand to you. “Dance with me. You’ll have a better vantage point to spy on Mike over there.”

“Keep your voice down,” you shushed, glancing around.

Dean just smirked. He beckoned you again with a raise of his brows.

You hesitated, but you still eventually dropped your hand into his. He stood before you so he could help you to your feet. You allowed him to escort you over to the dance floor, and all the while you fought off your nerves. You were only doing this because he had a good idea; this would help you keep an eye on Michael without looking so out of place, a woman drinking alone at the table.

The band was playing a moderately paced song, which was good. You weren’t in this to be swept into the air.

“Relax,” Dean whispered, once he had you in his arms. His hands were respectably placed on your waist and in your hand. You knew you did have to relax though. Already you were too stiff while tentatively holding his hand, your other resting on his shoulder.

“I haven’t danced in—in a while,” you admitted. You were a little nervous as you began swaying with Dean, letting him lead you. He turned you about with ease, even twirling you under his hand.

“See? There’s nothing to it,” he said, welcoming you back into his arms. “When’s the last time you had some fun?”

You tilted your head as you thought about it. You and Dean shuffled about the dance floor in more complicated steps as the song increased in tempo. You were breathless in a good way. In a way that you couldn’t even remember needing to breathe as the golden lights sparkled in the corners of your eyes.

“He took me to a club like this once, about…I’d say month or so after we got married last year,” you admitted between spins. You had to hold a hand to your head to keep your hat on.

You were distracted enough by it all—the spinning, the laughter and tinkling glasses, the flashes of spotlight in between sultry dim shades, the heady smell of this man’s cologne, and his every touch, however brief on your body, but just as confident and measured. You actually told him the truth.

“I’ve been dying to get out more ever since, but…” you trailed as he spun you again, then winded you back into the growing familiarity of his arms.

Dean smoothly guided you even closer to him by your waist, until there was hardly any room between your chest and his, between your face and his. Your hand curled around the back of his neck on instinct, the edge of your nails just barely grazing through his hair. You wouldn’t know how it elicited a hot zing of sensation down his spine.

“Your husband really is blind, and even dumber than he looks,” Dean said, glancing down at your face. “I clocked you in five seconds flat, just by those pretty lips.”

You lowered your eyes, but not very far. They landed on his plush lips in contemplation. When your eyes met his again, Dean had a conundrum. He just didn’t think he cared all that much about the consequences.

His head began to bow towards yours, just when the song slowed to a stop. Almost without realizing it, he pressed his hand a little more insistently on the small of your back. You found yourself accepting that guiding pressure. Half-lidded eyes and heavy, mingled breaths in between…

“Let’s hear it again for Dolores Daye, everybody!” the host called out.

You snapped to attention and glanced over Dean’s shoulder at the singer. She waved goodbye to the crowd with a sensuous smile on her ruby red lips. Then she walked off stage in her glittering golden dress, and she grabbed hold of a man’s tie. That man was your husband.

Michael wore a wide smile on his face as she led him to his feet by his tie. He stood, his form looming over her, though she didn’t seem to mind—especially when his arm wrapped too familiarly around her waist.

It wasn’t the kind of embrace you would see between strangers, even for the sake of a good show for the crowd. Their faces became impossibly close, but it was just shy of a kiss as she laughed, a sound like fine crystal bells.

Dean noticed why you froze. He turned to look over his shoulder and his expression faded, becoming grim. He led you off the stage, and while keeping a discreet eye on the scene, he lingered at the bar in the center of the room. His arm stayed around your waist. He could tell himself it was to stay in character, but really, he just wanted to keep you grounded…that right now, you weren’t alone.  

Here by the bar, it was far enough that Michael likely wouldn’t notice you, but close enough that you both could hear what was happening.

The host stepped down from the stage and joined Dolores and Michael, laying a heavy hand on your husband’s shoulder. Yet another clue that Michael showed his face here all too frequently. The host waved over his entire table of friends, Sam included. He’d managed to get himself invited to sit with them.

“Come on. Join us out back,” said the host, gesturing behind the curtain.

“Where to?” Sam asked.

“For a card game or two, a little smoke, a nice little drink,” Michael said, grabbing Sam’s shoulder. “You in?”

Sam nodded. He glanced over and found Dean across the room with his eyes. They shared a brief, but telling look, after which Sam followed Michael and Dolores past the curtain discreetly. Meanwhile, you were already pulling away from Dean’s arm.

“I’m sorry. I’ve got to go,” you murmured.

You went back to the table to collect your purse. You left the rest of your wine there with a few bills on the table to cover it, and you were off, walking brusquely to the front doors. Dean followed suit, laying some money down for his own drink before he followed after you. The clerk at the front brought you your coat after you handed over your ticket, and Dean did the same.

“Hey, why don’t I take you home,” he said, having to raise his voice even here over the noise.

“No, thank you,” you said thickly.

After you had your coat on, you hastened to the closest bus stop outside the club. It was late, it was dark, and it was cold. You saw your fragile breath on the air as you stood there in your tall heels, and you held yourself for more than one reason as you fought off bitter tears.

You bit your lip and blinked against the burn, but you still had to swipe a few droplets quickly from your cheeks. You tried to even out your shallow breaths. It felt like someone had reached into your chest and started squeezing whatever they found. Whatever was left.

Dean sidled up to you with his hands in his pockets. You heaved a sharp sigh, recognizing him just by his shadow casting beside yours under the streetlamp. You kept your face away from him as you wiped at your tears.

“Why do you insist on watching me be miserable?” you asked. 

“Aw, come on, sweetheart.” He shook his head, carding a hand through his hair. “I know you’re upset. I just want to make sure you get home safe, that’s all. …You don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to.” 

You slowly shot him a glance, but you didn’t budge. Your frown deepened along with your furrowed brows.  

“Dean, please. You don’t have to do this just because you feel sorry for me,” you said.

“I don’t feel sorry for you,” he said.

It earned your attention, your confused and hurt expression.

Dean met your gaze steadily. “I feel sorry for him. Because he doesn’t have a clue what he’s just lost.”

Your breath stilled in your lungs. 

His words touched you, more deeply than he probably realized. Part of you still wanted to give a sharp retort, that you didn’t need a chaperone. You didn’t need him to swoop in and collect you like broken glass…but a larger part of you craved the company. You didn’t want to be alone.

Soon enough, the next bus pulled up at the curb in front of you. The doors opened. 

Dean gestured with a sweeping hand towards the bus’s steps. 

Ladies first.

With another small sigh, you climbed up without a word. You even accepted his helping hand as you did so. Dean stepped up after you, and the doors closed behind you both.

AN: Welp, Happy Valentine's Day! 😅💜 Quite literally an angsty ride here, but what should happen on this bus going nowhere...

Next Time:

You admired his hands as they rested casually in his lap. They were larger than yours, with long fingers. His hands look strong and capable, like the rest of him, even though they were always considerate when they touched you.

“Then you should do something you like doing,” you said. “Fixing cars! That’s good, honest work you can make a living out of.”

Dean looked over at you. “You think so?”

You nodded your encouragement, smiling bright. “I know so. You might be a bit of a flirt, but you also look like someone who can accomplish whatever you set your mind to.”

When those words slipped free from your mouth, you realized how he might take that little accusation, let alone how overeager you sounded. Your gaze fell away from him as you felt your face getting warm in a blush.

Dean’s smile slid into a smirk. “I’m a flirt, huh?”

“Well…” You bit the inside of your lip and tried your hardest not to look at him for a while. “At least you’re an honest one.”

Dean laughed freely at that.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 3

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[parfaitmew]

been thinkin' about the twins lately♡

[sakurocha]

All bachelors asking you to dance with them during the Flower Festival!

hello hello!! i am so sorry this is late, it took some fine tuning—hopefully i got it right :) thank you so much for the ask, as always~

bachelors asking you to dance at the flower dance !

featuring all bachelors ♡

⊹₊⟡ sam

struggling through the Allergies™️

but he fights through it to get to you!! because he absolutely MUST ask the cute farmer out this year. this year is the YEAR

he's impressed that you can dance, too, as he watches you practice your twirls and glides with abigail

shoots abigail a significant look as she ~conveniently~ decides to go pester her dad at his stall

and all of a sudden, you and sam are side-by-side, while he casts nervous sidelong glances at you

"hey, you look really nice today..."

you simply respond with a smile and a compliment of your own, innocently unaware of his intentions

hoo boy, you are unknowingly making it VERY HARD for him

"want to... dance with me this year?" he manages to squeak out, face flushing before he even finishes his sentence

you're more than happy to accept, clasping his hand and dragging him into the center of the clearing, your carefree laughs and hollers carrying through the forest~

⊹₊⟡ sebastian

cannot believe that he is seriously considering asking someone to the flower dance

but, he figures, any time spent with you is worth much more than any embarrassment he might feel

so he just bites the bullet, finding you amongst the crowd, pulling you discreetly aside, and asks you, matter-of-factly

"dance with me?” he asks, holding out his hand

you're honestly surprised by his forwardness, but nonetheless overjoyed to accept

he didn't think he could ever enjoy dancing so much, especially in a stuffy suit of all things

but seeing the happy smile on your face has him... gasp! blushing?!?!

he’s able to overcome his initial anxiety when he has you comfortably in his arms, slowly swaying to the music

he could get used to this… ;)

⊹₊⟡ alex

tries to play it cool but he is seriously STRUGGLING

he had never had a problem with talking to you, so why was it so hard for him to muster up the courage to ask you?? >:(

pretends to be all casual, voice all light and airy when he approaches you, hands in his pockets

“you clean up real nice,” he says, tamping down the fear in his throat

but then when you look at him with your pretty doll eyes, he suddenly feels his macho return

“you’d look better next to me, though. whaddya say we dance together?” he asks, a smirk on his perfect lips

if he wasn’t so damn charming you’d be rolling your eyes

but alas, alex mullner is alex mullner, and in the blink of an eye, he has his hands planted possessively on your waist, the other guiding you in a surprisingly elegant dance as the two of you twirl together in the spring breeze~

⊹₊⟡ harvey

get this poor man a doctor of his own because his heart is RACING

seriously reconsidering his original plan, especially when he sees you so dolled up, excitedly flouncing over to greet him with a chaste peck on his cheek

and the poor man’s face burns a million degrees hotter

starts with some small talk, to check in on how you’re doing

but also to try and calm his nerves!! >_<

he finally finds the courage to ask you when you look up at him with expectant eyes, as if wordlessly encouraging him to say the words you've been waiting for all year

"would you... care to dance with me?" he asks softly

and BOOM, he's swept up in a whirlwind of your movements as you pull him over to the dance, giggling all the while

"took you long enough to ask me, doctor!~"

⊹₊⟡ elliott

has a grand proposal planned out just for you

with a blooming bouquet of delicate flowers he had picked that day, during a morning stroll before the festival

he doesn't even ask you at the dance, he arrives at the doorstep to your farmhouse bright and early

just before you open the door though, he's a flustered mess

smoothing out his hair and the lapels of his jacket

he has never felt!! so nervous before!!

but before he can even fully gather his thoughts, you're suddenly standing in front of him, a delighted look on your face

"elliott! what's the meaning of this?"

he clears his throat, finding the courage to (metaphorically) sweep you off your feet with his honeyed words

"would you care to accompany me to the flower dance, my rose?"

you squeal with joy as you throw your arms around him, letting him lift you off the ground in a fairytale-like embrace <3

⊹₊⟡ shane

off in a quieter corner of the field, sipping on a soda

he was secretly waiting for you to show up, but he acts all bothered when you run over to him, all cheery and smiley

you lovee bothering him <3

behind closed doors, you were hoping for him to ask you to dance, but you knew there was no chance of that happening

so his next words caught you completely off guard, spoken so quietly you almost missed them

“… wanted t’try dancing this year, ‘n i figured you would be the most helpful, seein’ how you’re so good at it…” he mutters just barely under his breath

you just yank him by the arm to the center of the dance, much to his surprise

“if you wanna dance with me, just say that!” you laugh, twirling around him at a dizzying speed

he was in for a RIDE, but he was more than amused to oblige <3

thank you so much for reading! requests are always open~

[merafanbrainthatmerafans]

Hello I’m glad requests are open I didn’t want to send something in without double checking. I was wondering how the members of the bakusquad (+Shinso if possible) would react to the reader being completely oblivious to the guys flirting or crushing on them. They’re very much under the impression that they’re all just being nice, the reader is crushing on them but they’re under the impression that the guys are just good friends.

(I hope this makes sense I’ve been trying to word this as best I can. English isn’t my strong suit)

Lmao same tho I'm Ukrainian and sometimes even grammarly doesn't save me T^T

Anyway, I got you here's what you asked for <33

🧡 Bakusquad (+Shinsou) Reacting to an Oblivious Reader 💥

💥 Bakugo Katsuki

This man is dying inside.

He’s not the type to just say how he feels, but he thinks it’s so obvious—why else would he be tolerating someone this much?!

“Oi, dumbass, I don’t just hang out with anyone.”

He literally glares when someone tells him to confess directly, because he did—at least in his mind.

When you respond with, “Aww, you’re such a nice friend, Bakugo!” he nearly explodes on the spot.

He WILL corner you one day, slamming his hands on the wall: “I LIKE YOU, GOT IT? NOT AS A FRIEND—AS SOMEONE I WANNA DATE.”

If you’re still confused? God help him.

⚡ Kaminari Denki

At first, he thinks it’s kinda cute—until he realizes you actually don’t get it.

He flirts all the time, drops winks, compliments your outfits, even does the classic stretch-arm-over-the-shoulder move.

“You know, you look really cute today.” “Aw, you’re so nice, Kaminari!”

He MALFUNCTIONS. 💀

Will absolutely whine about it to the squad: “HOW DENSE CAN THEY BE?!”

Eventually just straight-up says: “Okay, but what if I wanna be more than friends?” while pouting.

🍡 Sero Hanta

He thinks it’s hilarious at first—your clueless reactions are kinda cute.

But when he casually asks, “Would you ever date a guy like me?” and you say, “Of course! You’re such a great friend!”

Bro.exe has stopped working.

He gives you SO MANY chances to realize it—lingering touches, compliments, lowkey flirting—and yet, nothing.

Will eventually just be like, “Okay, but real talk—I like you. Like, ‘hold hands and kiss’ like you.”

🍗 Kirishima Eijiro

He’s so patient but also SO SHY when it comes to actually saying the words.

Compliments you constantly: “You’re amazing, Y/N! Anyone would be lucky to date you!”

“Aww, thanks, Kiri! You’re such a good friend.”

Visible frustration but still smiling. 😃

Tries to do cute, romantic gestures—like gifting you things, taking you out for food—but you still think it’s platonic.

Eventually has to hype himself up and confess directly: “I really, really like you, Y/N—not just as a friend. Can we go out?”

💜 Shinsou Hitoshi

He thinks you’re doing this on purpose.

Like, there’s NO WAY someone can be this dense, right?

Flirts in his usual deadpan but smooth way: “You know, you’re kinda my favorite person.”

“Aww, that’s sweet, Shinsou! You’re my favorite, too.”

…bruh.

He doesn’t even get mad, just stares at you in disbelief.

One day, he straight-up asks, “What would I have to do to make you realize I like you?”

Once you finally understand, he just sighs: “Took you long enough.”

💖 CONCLUSION: The Bakusquad loves you, but LORD do you make it difficult. Someone (probably Mina) has to step in and spell it out for you. Once you finally get it, though? Worth it.

(Also my gay ass wants to add the girls too so...)

🌸 Mina Ashido

This girl is losing her mind.

Like, she is being SO OBVIOUS. Flirting? ✅ Randomly holding your hand? ✅ Cuddling up to you? ✅ Calling you her “cute little crush”? ✅

And yet, you still giggle and go, “Haha, you’re so affectionate, Mina! You’d make such a great girlfriend for someone.”

EXCUSE ME???

She screams into a pillow later.

Starts getting more and more dramatic about it. One day, she deadass twirls her hair and says: “Soooo, wanna be my girlfriend, cutie?”

“Wait… are you serious???”

She grabs you by the shoulders: “YES, I HAVE BEEN FOR MONTHS.”

Lowkey fake cries when you finally say yes because IT TOOK YOU THIS LONG. 😭

🎸 Jirou Kyoka

This woman is struggling.

She’s not as obvious as Mina, but her crush is painfully obvious to the squad.

Tries to play it cool but always blushes when you compliment her.

“You’re so talented, Jirou! I love listening to you play!”

“Pffft, whatever… thanks.” (internal gay panic)

Writes you a whole-ass song about liking someone oblivious and plays it for you.

“Wow, that’s such a relatable song! I hope your crush likes you back!”

Jirou.exe has crashed.

One day, she just gives up and straight-up says: “Dude. I like you. A lot. Please tell me you get it now.”

When you finally understand, she groans and facepalms but still hugs you super tight.

Final Thoughts:

Bakusquad (and now Mina & Jirou) are fighting for their lives.

You’re just out here thinking everyone’s super friendly while they all suffer. 😭

Someone (probably Mina or Kaminari) eventually LOCKS YOU IN A ROOM and forces you to think about it.

Once you finally get it, they all cheer and lowkey roast you for taking so long. 💀

[strawbeaniie]

thank you so much for the compliment on azalea 🥺!! he's such a little goober to me!

Based on what I've read about Bok-su, I think her vibe would fit pomgranate cookie :D i think they both strike me as people who are quiet and quite dedicated or dare I even say devoted to where they put their efforts in! For you! Clover Cookie! I've included the fall version of his fit because i think it suits you a lil better! but i may also just be bias toward tones of brown lol! but !! i think its just the lil hearts in your sweater and the lil ^v^ that gave me the vibes of this silly lil cookie that composes milk /pos

🍓;; send me a picture of your s/i, oc , and/or thier partner from canon and i'll assign them cookie run characters based on vibes :D art (c) TheMaskedRabbitt

for example malleus gets stardust cookie and my s/i gets shining glitter cookie!

pr/ship dni

[orbch]

man forgive me for the suddenness bc it’s almost 2am but i CANNOT stop thinking about your sock design im absolutely obsessing over it literally putting him in a sack and hitting it against the wall repeatedly

im not quite sure why im informing you but it feels necessary in some regarg

thank u so much, i appreciate this compliment even though i feel like i have 4 different designs for sock i rotate between

and also i feel the urge to provide a doodle of sorts so here is a sockathan doodle (that is too Nothing Sandwich to be a stand alone post) featuring one of my maybe a million sock designs, yayyy

[apples4wce]

right chord. ☆ myg

first of all i dedicate this oneshot to @kithtaehyung who reminded me of this wip in this ask and inspired me to finish it up so tysm ryen 💜

cross-posted to ao3 here

tags: yoongi x gender-neutral reader, fluff, set in the genius lab, i was trying to channel all the cozy energy for this fic and i hope it shows

word count: 1.1k

“Alright, now put your ring finger on this string.” Yoongi gently directs your fingers to the right places.

You strum the note a bit harsh and the sound comes out strange. Yoongi flinches, but doesn’t raise his voice. “Maybe try strumming it a bit softer.”

When you texted him saying you were on your way to his studio with some food, you didn’t expect him to ask you to stay.

But here you are, two hours later, curled up in a chair sitting next to him, with his favorite guitar in your hands, learning chords from songs he’s still working on, months after having come up with their melodies.

He takes his time when he writes music. You can tell he respects and appreciates his craft. It’s partly why you wanted to learn the guitar.

Also, you wanted an excuse to see him more.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Okay. Softer.”

It’s quite dim in the studio, the only real bright light coming from his computer, that’s currently playing the screensaver animation. The whirr of the computers serves as ambient sound as you try strumming again, with less force this time.

“You got it. Do you want to try a few more chords?”

You nod rapidly. “Yes, please. Only if you want me to stay longer, though. I’m not the fastest learner.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you if I wanted you to leave. Besides, no matter what speed you progress at, you’re still progressing. Take as much time to learn as you want.”

You can hear the rain start to patter outside while Yoongi teaches you some more chords. Your eyes dart from the neck of the guitar, making sure your fingers are on the right frets, to the body of the guitar, where your other hand waits to strum all the strings.

“You’re getting a lot quicker with your chord transitions, maybe I’ll have you do the lead guitar on my next album.”

You stare at him with wide eyes. He can almost see the big cartoon tears welling at the corners of your eyes. “I’m not ready yet!”

“I was just kidding, love. I wouldn’t put that much stress on you all of a sudden. That’s why I have my guitarist.” He chuckles, his hand rubbing slow circles on your kneecap.

You try a chord progression you heard him strum last night, so focused on getting your fingers on the right strings that you don’t notice Yoongi smiling at your effort.

It’s the little moments like these that he cherishes the most, quiet times spent together.

“Did I do it right? I think I got it right.”

He hums, gazing fondly at you. “You remember chords well.”

Your cheeks warm at the compliment. “Thanks. I try my best.”

You feel content sitting with him tonight. It’s a nice contrast to the busy lives you both lead.

Then Yoongi’s phone buzzes. He picks it up and swipes the notification away.

“Is everything alright?”

He nods. “Yeah, it’s just work. I have some songs to finish for my album and one of the guys on the production team just sent me a little melody.”

“Cool,” you grin, “are you allowed to share details about the album, or… do I have to wait for the release date like everyone else?”

“Uhh…” he scratches his head, clicking through files on his computer at an insanely rapid pace. “Well, I could show you this song. It’s almost done, there’s just a few little things I need to perfect on it.”

You sit up, intrigued, and watch as he clicks open a file. “What’s the song called?”

“It’s called AMYGDALA.”

The audio starts up, the guitar and melody smoothly melding into Yoongi’s verse. You listen attentively, eyes glued to the screen. Your head bops slightly to the beat while you process the lyrics, and when the final notes fade out and the last Save me out of here, please get me out of here echo into silence, you gasp. “Wow, that was- that was really good.”

“Yeah? You like the song?”

“It’s fantastic. It’s really… open. Deep. Vulnerable, in a sense. It’s- I really like it.”

Yoongi’s smile grows when you share your feelings on the melody and the lyrics. He appreciates all the nice things you have to say about his music, he always has.

You take his hand in yours and give it a gentle squeeze. “I’m happy that you’re happy, you know. It’s nice to see you like this. Sometimes, when you’d come home from the studio, you looked sad and angry, but you don’t look like that anymore. You look… satisfied, I guess. Like you’re free.”

“I am, in a way,” he squeezes your hand back, “I’ve said everything I needed to say. I used this persona to get all my rage out, but I don’t have that rage in me anymore. Now I can move on to another side of me.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, just enjoying each other’s presence, the feel of his warm hand holding yours tightly, the sound of the computer fan whirring quietly and its dim light as it goes back into its screensaver animation, the smell of the lit vanilla candle on the desk.

“Did you want me to show you a sample from another song on the album?”

Your eyes widen. “You would?”

“Yeah. I think you’ll like this one. I wrote it and I thought of you.”

Yoongi opens another file. “This one comes before the pre-release single on the album. It’s called SDL.”

You listen attentively to the drum beat and the smooth synth, and when he presses pause, you give him a thumbs-up with your free hand, the one he isn’t currently holding. He hasn’t let go of your hand the entire time, and you doubt he will.

“I like it, it sounds a bit more romantic than your usual style. I just know when you add the lyrics it’s going to sound even better.”

“Thanks,” he smiles, sounding a little flustered.

You love showering him with praise, because his reactions are always silly. You recall the day you announced your feelings for him and he simply started yelling.

Also, he deserves every single compliment in the world.

He clicks at the screen for a bit, distracted, still holding your hand.

“Have I told you that you look really handsome with longer hair?”You watch with amusement as he avoids the statement entirely, his eyes darting to the wall.

“‘Cause you look really handsome with longer hair,” you continue with a playful grin.

He still doesn’t reply and instead squeezes your hand again.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop,” you chuckle, “but you know I love you, right?”

“Yeah. Me too.”

by the way i was originally planning on posting this for yoongi's bday so this is my belated bday gift for my yoongi 🎉

[jokerislandgirl32]

Oh my goodness! Thank you so much for the encouragement and the plushies! It warms my heart to hear people supporting and complimenting my selfship with Zach! He’s everything to me!

I just love the little puffin for Zach, the black and while makes me think of his color scheme! I’ve also always felt Zach was very bird like for some reason (don’t know why but I do lol), so this is wonderful! And the dog for Murdock! Ahhh, he has an invisible pet dog named Billy, and in general he loves dogs so yesssss, you could not have picked a better plushie for him! Thank you!!!!

REBLOG GAME TIME CUZ ITS BEEN FOREVER SINCE I'VE MADE ONE!!

reblog with your f/o's and i'll give them a plushie from my collection!!!

STATUS: OPEN!!

examples with my dudes!!!

otto gets my octopus :))

i wonder which one luigi could possibly get... hmmm....

NOTE! i dont own an infinite amount of plushies. i'll try to make sure everyone gets a different one, but if you get the same as someone else. sorry :(

proship and doubles do not interact please

[butterflydm]

Wheel of Time 3x04 - the road to the spear

Spoilers through to 3x04 of the show. Reminder that I will be doing deep dives of 3x03 and 3x04 this weekend, with a show-only spoilers post and then one with book thoughts! Oh! book spoilers through the shadow rising, i forgot to mention!

Yeah, wow, very intense look at mostly Rand's journey into Rhuidean, with really only tiny glimpses of Moiraine's.

And I do understand, tone-wise, why Rafe & co felt like Mat wouldn't fit into this Rhuidean journey. But I miss him there. I miss him so much and I am probably one of the few people who was not a fan of Moiraine getting Mat's moment with shedding all the daggers but... yeah, having Mat there would drastically alter the tone, which was very driving and melancholy. And Rand's journey took up almost the entire episode. There wasn't room for another storyline in there.

I felt like this did such a good job showing us a screen adaptation of those two chapters in the book, and that is a huge compliment. I adore those chapters, consider them some of the best that Jordan wrote and I felt them here and I loved it so much.

Other things, real fast - loved that we had a moment at the start with Rand and Aviendha clashing and that also that moment at the end. We get that explanation of why Aviendha has been treating Rand the way that she has -- because she, too, was running away from her duty to her people, and she is forced to face her duty. She was projecting herself onto Rand and her judgements of Rand were judgements of herself in a lot of ways. The shot when she's told that she must face her duty to her people, and Rand is the background shot? Amazing. And then the moment in Rhuidean after she's gone through the rings and he's gone through the columns (and she runs away again). Amazing! Look at them, slowburning away completely by accident, those crazy kids. Bonding over learning their duty to their people. <3

I wonder... did Aviendha not tell the others that Rand had already made it through? Egwene and Lan didn't seem to know. Maybe she felt it was his own business.

Moiraine's trip into the rings may have brought the dangers of trusting Lanfear home to her, and made her understand who she does need to trust. We will find out in the next episode.

But the main event here was decidedly Rand's journey through the rings. Josha did fantastic. I really want to rewatch it all over again right now, but I will hold myself back until this weekend. I do need to get some sleep and go to work in the morning, lol!

He sounded great speaking the Old Tongue and there was so much of it! Loved everything but especially the scene with young Latra, his scene with Mierin, and I loved his performance as Lewin (and wow they made his friends feel very much like Mat & Perrin!).

And one of Rand's ancestors is queer! Thank you, Rafe!

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3

I believe that was Jonai, who led the Aiel out of Paaran Disen.

I am very much looking forward to rewatching this one. What a fantastic episode. <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

[ironinc]

Hey 🤗✨ it's me again with another request! Recently, I've been obsessed with a song called "Out of Time" by The Weeknd. Could you write something that's based off that! It could be paired with anyone!

Out Of Time.ᝰ.ᐟ

Chris Sturniolo x F!Black Reader. (Smut/NSFW)

˗ˏˋ After a broken relationship with your ex, who cited the difficulties of balancing a relationship due to his work & commitment issues, you found yourself heartbroken for months. However, fate had another surprise in store for you: the arrival of a new, even better man (Chris Sturniolo) into your life. But the question lingers: how will your ex handle this unexpected twist of fate and your new relationship?

──── .✦

Very explicit & detailed. | A/N: I listened to the song and that’s the concept 😝 So you can replace the new love interest with whoever if you don’t like the love interest. But in this instance, I’m going to use ‘Chris Sturniolo’ since my best friend likes him. You are 21, Chris in this is 22!

I also want to say thank you guys so much for 111 followers 😖 I’m so thankful for all of y’all support!!/&/& And of course- thank you for requesting something so good again- I love your mine GAHH. You can make the ex look like anyone! In my mind he looks like Tom holland. | WC: 3,032

✮⋆˙

The soft hum of conversation fills the air as you sit across from him—a man who’s made it his mission to erase every trace of your ex from your heart. His name is Chris Sturniolo, and he’s everything your ex wasn’t. Confident. Present. Devoted. The kind of man who doesn’t shy away from commitment or responsibility. His hand grips yours across the table, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. His eyes, a light shade of blue, lock onto yours, and you feel the weight of his adoration.

“You look stunning tonight,” Chris murmurs, his voice low and smooth. His gaze drifts to the French curl braids cascading down your shoulders, the way your fitted dress hugs every curve of your body, and your white French tip nails that tap lightly against the stem of your wine glass. 

He’s the kind of man who notices every detail, who spoils you with gifts, with attention, with everything.

You smile, a soft, knowing curve of your lips. 

“You say that every time we go out.”

“Because it’s true every time,” he counters, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re the most beautiful woman in this room. Hell, in this city.”

The compliment warms you, but it also feels like a reminder of how far you’ve come. How much you’ve healed since Adrian. Since the nights you spent crying over a man who couldn’t—or wouldn’t—choose you over his work and of course his tacky commitment issues. Chris is different. He’s here. He’s present. And you’re beginning to believe that maybe, just maybe, you deserve this.

But then, as the waiter approaches your table, you freeze.

It’s him.

Your ex, named Adrian.

Your breath catches in your throat as he steps forward, dressed in the restaurant’s uniform, holding a tray of bread with a practiced ease that makes you wonder how long he’s been planning this. His eyes, those damn eyes, meet yours, and for a moment, it’s like no time has passed at all.

“Good evening,” he says, his voice steady, but you can hear the faint tremor beneath it. “Can I start you off with some bread?”

Chris nods, seemingly oblivious to the tension crackling between you and Adrian. “Sure, thanks.”

Adrian sets the bread basket down on the table, his gaze never leaving yours. You want to look away, to focus on Chris, but you can’t. Not when Adrian’s looking at you like that. Not when his presence alone is enough to unravel everything you’ve built with Chris.

Chris excuses himself to use the restroom, and the moment he’s out of sight, Adrian sets down his tray and steps closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“We need to talk.”

You shake your head, your fingers tightening around your wine glass. “No, Adrian. We don’t. What’s done is done.”

His jaw tightens, and you can see the pain in his eyes, the regret that he’s been carrying for months. “I know I messed up,” he says, his voice raw. “I know I hurt you. And I’ve regretted it every single day since. But I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay with this. With him.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

“You don’t get to decide what’s okay for me anymore, Adrian. You made your choice. And now I’ve made mine.”

He steps closer, his hand reaching out to brush against yours, but you pull away, the sting of his touch too much to bear. “I miss you,” he confesses, his voice breaking. “I miss us. I know I can’t promise you the kind of life he can, but I love you. And I’d do anything to prove that to you.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away, refusing to let him see how much his words still affect you. “You had your chance, Adrian. And you let me go. You don’t get to come back now and pretend like you can fix what you broke.”

He looks at you, his eyes filled with a longing that makes your chest ache. “I can’t keep you from loving him,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “You made up your mind. I’m here for you... but I’m clearly out of time.”

The weight of his confession hangs in the air between you, thick and suffocating. You want to say something, anything, but the words stick in your throat. Before you can respond, Chris returns, his hand resting on the back of your chair as he slides back into his seat.

“Everything okay?” he asks, his brow furrowing as he glances between you and Adrian.

You force a smile, nodding as you take a sip of your wine. “Everything’s fine.”

Adrian steps back, his mask of professionalism slipping back into place. “Enjoy your evening,” he says, his voice steady, but you can hear the undercurrent of pain beneath it.

As he walks away, you can’t help but wonder if you made the right choice. Suppose Chris’s love is enough to erase the hold Adrian still has on your heart. But then Chris’s hand finds yours again, his touch grounding you, reminding you of why you chose him in the first place.

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft. “You’re quiet. Everything really okay?”

You nod, squeezing his hand. “Yeah,” you say, your voice steady. “Everything’s perfect.”

But as the night wears on, you can’t shake the feeling that something—or someone—is about to change everything.

── .✦

The limo door shuts with a muted thud, sealing you and Chris inside the plush, dimly lit interior. 

The hum of the engine vibrates faintly beneath you as the car pulls away from the restaurant. 

Chris’s hand rests on your thigh, his fingers tracing slow, possessive circles. You try to focus on his touch, but your mind keeps drifting back to Adrian—his words, his regret, the way his voice cracked when he said he still loved you.

“You’re still… quiet,” Chris murmurs, his deep blue eyes studying you with an intensity that makes your stomach flip. His voice is calm but laced with a concern that feels almost… possessive. 

“What’s on your mind?”

You swallow, your nails nervously picking at the edge of the leather seat. Should you tell him? Will it ruin this moment? Or worse—will it make him angry? But the way he’s looking at you, so present, so devoted, makes it impossible to lie.

“That was Adrian,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “He… he said he still loves me.”

Chris’s other hand gripped his Rolex watch, his knuckles whitening for a fraction of a second before he forced his hand to relax. His jaw clenches, but when he looks at you, his expression is soft—though there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“Adrian,” he says, his voice low and measured, “doesn’t deserve you. He had his chance, and he let you go. I’m not going to let him win. Not now. Not ever.”

His words are confident, almost harsh, but there’s a tenderness in them that makes your chest ache. He leans in closer, his breath warm on your skin as he brushes a braid away from your face. 

“Tonight,” he says, his voice dropping to a near growl, “I’m going to show you exactly how much I want you. How much I’m willing to fight for you.”

Before you can respond, his lips are on yours, his kiss demanding and desperate. His tongue slips into your mouth, claiming you with a hunger that leaves you breathless. Your hands clutch at his suit jacket, pulling him closer as the world outside the limo fades away.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes are dark with desire. “You’re mine,” he whispers, his voice rough. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget that.”

The limo pulls up to his penthouse, and he doesn’t wait for the driver to open the door. He’s out in an instant, pulling you with him, his hand firmly gripping yours as he leads you inside. The elevator ride is a blur, his body pressed against yours, his lips tracing a searing path down your neck.

When the doors ping open, he scoops you up effortlessly, carrying you into the lavish living room.

The soft glow of the city lights filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting the room in a warm, romantic haze. But Chris isn’t in the mood for romance. His movements are possessive, almost rough, as he sets you down on the plush couch and kneels between your legs.

“Chris—” you start, but he silences you with a look, his gaze burning into yours.

“Let me remind you,” he says, his voice low and commanding, “just how much I want you.”

His hands slide up your thighs, pushing your dress up until it bunches around your waist. His fingers hook into the delicate lace of your panties, and with a quick tug, they’re gone. His breath hitches as he takes in the sight of you, his eyes darkening with lust.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

And then his mouth is on you, his soft tongue swirling around your clit with a skill that makes your back arch off the couch. Your hand's fist in his curly hair, pulling him closer as waves of pleasure crash over you. He doesn’t let up, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“Chris,” you moan, your voice trembling with need.

“Please—I can’t—”

But he doesn’t stop. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place as he devours you, his tongue relentless. When you finally shatter, your body convulsing with pleasure, he doesn’t pull away. He stays with you, drawing out every last shuddering wave until you’re boneless and breathless.

He leans back, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “That,” he says, his voice rough and filled with pride, “was just the beginning.”

Before you can catch your breath, he’s pulling you to your feet, his hands roaming your body as he leads you toward the bedroom. The way he looks at you—like you’re the only woman in the world—makes your heart race. But as you follow him, the image of Adrian’s broken expression flashes in your mind, and a pang of guilt twists in your chest.

“Chris,” you say softly, stopping just outside the bedroom door. He turns to look at you, his brow furrowing in concern.

“What is it sweetheart?” he asks, his voice softening.

You open your mouth to speak, but the words stick in your throat. How do you tell him that, despite everything, Adrian’s confession has left you unsettled? That, for just a moment, you wondered if you made the right choice.

But before you can find the words, Chris’s hands are on your face, his thumbs brushing away tears you didn’t even realize were falling. “Hey,” he says, his voice gentle. “You’re with me now. You don’t have to think about him. Not tonight. Not ever.”

His words are reassuring, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes—something that looks almost like fear. Fear of losing you. Fear of not being enough.

“I… I just need to—” you start, but he cuts you off with a kiss, his lips soft but insistent.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmurs against your lips. “Let me show you how much you mean to me.”

And as he leads you into the bedroom, his hands, lips, and body promising you everything you’ve ever wanted, you can’t help but wonder if you’re ready to let go of the past—or if Adrian’s confession has already changed everything.

── .✦

Chris’s hands glide over your body, his touch both possessive and tender as he undresses you. 

Piece by piece, your clothes fall to the floor, leaving you exposed to his heated gaze. His fingers trace the curves of your hips, his grip tightening as he lifts you effortlessly and places you on the edge of the bed. You feel the cool silk of the sheets against your skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth radiating from him.

He stands between your legs, his eyes locked on yours, and you can see the hunger in them—raw, unbridled, and entirely focused on you. His hands move to his belt, the sound of the buckle unfastening sending a shiver down your spine. 

His pants drop to the floor, and he kicks them aside without a second thought. His cock is already hard, and he strokes himself slowly, his eyes never leaving yours as if daring you to look away. His tip was a pretty light pink, while his length was the perfect size for you. You were in awe.

“God, you’re stunning,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with desire. He leans down, his lips finding yours in a kiss that is both soft and demanding. His tongue brushes against yours, and you moan into his mouth as he pushes into you, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, and your nails dig into his shoulders as he begins to move, his hips thrusting against yours with a rhythm that leaves you breathless.

His hands grip your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he fucks you hard and fast. The sound of your bodies meeting fills the room, and you can’t help but cry out as pleasure courses through you. He leans down, his lips finding your ear, and his breath is hot against your skin as he whispers, “I want to hear you scream my name.”

And you do. You scream it over and over, your voice breaking as pleasure overtakes you. His lips trail down your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin as he kisses a path to your breasts. His tongue flicks over your nipple, sucking it into his mouth, his other hand moving to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. You arch into him, your nails still digging into his back as waves of pleasure crash over you. He’s everywhere, his hands, his lips, his body surrounding you, claiming you.

Then he suddenly pulls out, his body trembling as he comes, his hot cum spilling onto your stomach. 

He leans down, his lips brushing against yours as he whispers, “I love you.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and raw, as you stare up at him, your heart racing. His eyes are soft now, the dominance replaced by something deeper, something vulnerable. 

“I love you too.” You replied back without even thinking, only feeling with your heart. 

He kisses you again, slow and tender, his hands cradling your face. “You’re mine,” he murmurs against your lips. “Always.”

You’re still catching your breath when the sound of his phone ringing breaks the silence. He groans, pulling away reluctantly as he grabs it from the nightstand. “Chris Sturniolo,” he answers, his voice steady despite the heaviness in the air. He listens for a moment, his brow furrowing. “I’ll be there. Give me fifteen minutes.”

He hangs up, turning back to you with a regretful smile. “I’m sorry, love. I have to take this call. Business never sleeps.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

You nod, watching as he cleans you up. He then puts on some new business formal clothes, and his movements are quick and efficient. He gives you one last kiss and a lingering look before disappearing out the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The silence is deafening. You lie there, staring at the ceiling, Chris’s words still ringing in your ears. 

“I love you.” You want to believe it. You want to believe that this is real, that he’s everything you’ve been waiting for. But Adrian’s confession lingers in the back of your mind, his voice cracking with emotion as he told you he still loved you.

You sit up, your legs swinging over the edge of the bed until you get up to grab your bonnet from the nightstand and put it on.

The penthouse is quiet, the air heavy with the scent of sex and something deeper—something that feels a lot like uncertainty. You put on one of Chris’s shirts, the fabric soft against your skin as you walk into the living room.

The view from the floor-to-ceiling windows is breathtaking, the city lights twinkling like stars against the night sky. You sink into the plush couch, your mind racing. What do you want? What do you really want?

The sound of a key turning in the lock makes you jump. The door swings open, and Chris steps inside, his tie loosened and his hair slightly disheveled. He looks at you, his expression softening as he takes in the sight of you in his shirt.

“Couldn’t stay away,” he says, his voice low and husky as he crosses the room to join you on the couch. He pulls you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a slow, deep kiss. “I needed to come back to you.”

You melt into him, his warmth and presence grounding you as the world fades away. But even as his lips move against yours, a part of you can’t help but wonder—what if? What if Adrian was right? What if there’s still a chance?

Chris pulls back, his eyes searching yours. 

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice soft but tinged with something you can’t quite place—fear? Jealousy?

You hesitate, your heart racing as you meet his gaze. “I… I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighs, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You don’t have to know right now,” he says, his tone gentle but firm. “But I need you to know that I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. And I’ll fight for you, for us, no matter what it takes.”

His words are a balm, soothing the doubts that swirl in your mind. You lean into him, your head resting on his chest as his arms wrap around you. The steady beat of his heart is comforting, a reminder that he’s here, he’s real, and he’s yours—for now.

AYEEEE MUST BE THE MONEY!!!! 😝😝 I’m so obsessed with this I can’t even bare. I went to sleep and all I could think about was this story- I hope you guys like the twist of events and you ofc not falling for your ex’a words. Let me know if yall like this and possibly want more stories like this!

(Credits: lily.szn on TikTok)

- I’ll see you soon <3 (MasterList)⟢

[shkretart]

I just want to compliment you on drawing Nomad Steve with that glorious chest full of hair. No way that a man who can grow a beard like that is still smooth!

Thank you very much! I just have some headcanons regarding Steve and Bucky's appearance.

This is Steve with a beard, for example. It's just that the hair on his chest and everywhere else suits him when he has a beard. Unfortunately, we don't know the truth haha. The same goes for my quirk with the mole and all over his body.

The same goes for Bucky, If you take his images. For example, in the 40s, he had such a careless appearance. Sometimes, of course, he had perfectly styled hair and a smooth face, but he also had a slightly hairy chest and stubble. I like to draw Bucky (if take CA:CW) with disheveled hair, with hair on his body. He experienced so much and ran from everyone that he did not have time to tidy himself up. And there are many such little things in my head.

It also seems to me that all these little details like hair and carelessness, or on the contrary, smoothness and perfection convey the character’s personality.

(Sorry I got carried away, I can talk about this for a long time haha.) Thanks a lot again!!!

[felinisnoctis]

Petras Prime

Produced in collaboration with @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan and @sleepyfan-blog . Petras meets the chaos primaris trio. Much fun is had.

Warnings: Blood, combat, Petras being Petras

Tags @kit-williams  @sleepyfan-blog  @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @egrets-not-regrets @nightshade-victorian @legionsofthehungry

Chaos or not, Cedric needed to warn the newcomers of the danger they were in.  Fortunately, as an apothecary, it was easy enough for him to find a reason to visit.  Felix looked up at him as he entered.

“Hello there, apothecary I am not allowed to kidnap on pain of an angry death guard.  Are you here to check on your work?”

Cedric took a deep breath before delivering his message.  “There is a suspected Primaris Killer on Ancient Terra. He is a loyalist Black Templar Chaplain by the name of Petras. He is currently visiting this city with his warband. I don't know if the rest of his warband are potentially also murderous.  Also no, I have not told the firstborn marines. Why would they care?”

Felix thought this information over for a moment.  “Ah, so you brought it to someone with a mutual interest, instead. You're smart for a loyalist.”

Cedric narrows his eyes at the backhanded compliment.  “Your companions are injured. Petras is several hundred years old. I would advise caution.”

Felix smiled at him.  With his helmet off he looked pretty normal, other than the mark of Chaos Undivided neatly burned into his scalp.  “Duly noted, apothecary.”

Cedric nods, still tense “Those of us who have been on Ancient Terra have yet to confront him due to logistical issues.” Those primarily being his argument with Ramiel as to who should be bait. The young Justicar insisted it should be him, but Cedric strongly disagreed. Ramiel had been killed by the bastard once already, and he would rather not risk it. Ramiel had argued as he was Petras’s Apprentice- of which they have heard other Firstborn Black Templars talk about Petras talking about occasionally- that his reaction to Ramiel would not be able to be hidden.

“There are ways to conceal ourselves from his sight, should it be needed.”  Felix didn’t seem inclined to explain what those were.

“Among the Loyalist Primaris, we do not have the ability to do that. Not without possibly risking the life of the one who is bait. We've been arguing over who should be bait, as none of us wishes to risk the others.” Cedric answers earnestly. 

“Well, thank you for the warning, in any case, Apothecary Cedric.  Rest assured my companions and I will take due precautions around this individual.”  Felix looked almost shark-like in his response.

Cedric nods “Good. This is my vox-number, should you wish for my help, or would like to talk.” He offers the other a small piece of paper with his vox number on it. He has no love for Chaos of any kind, but Felix and his brothers are also Primaris… And if Petras is from when Cedric suspects he is… There is no way the bastard Chaplain wouldn't seek out Chaos Primaris to kill, rules and treaties be damned.

Felix took the vox number and nodded.  He voxed a quick message over <And this is mine if you wish to chat more.  I will ensure my brothers are suitably warned of the risks on Ancient Terra.>  Out loud he added “An extra bag or two of blood for our brother would help.  For the road.”

“Of course. I can get together a couple of extra blood bags,” Cedric says with a nod, sending a message to inventory. “Anything else?” Over text he wrote <I mean it. Getting kitted out on Ancient Terra can get complicated if you don't have a permanent base.>

A few minutes later Jophiel comes by with four bags of blood and a cheerful whistling tune, “Some of the bags of blood- still edible, but almost too old to be used for transfusion.”

He hands off the bags of blood to Cedric, glancing at Felix a little, his wings tucked against his back and only twitching a little as he sees the Chaos Marine- his scent, mutated by Chaos- but still Primaris, has his hearts plummeting to his stomach.

“Hello cousin,” Jophiel says, mahogany brown eyes flashing a little as he assesses the Primaris Marine, “Make sure to call us for trade- Ancient Terra is rather resource-starved without having allies in place. But- I’m a Loyalist- so who cares what I say, right? See you soon again. Dodge the hidden strike, Loud- but wily, age not yet dulled senses. Time’s flow ebbs in his hands.”

“.. What?” Cedric says to Jophiel confused. “Are you saying?”

“What?” Jophiel says in response, tilting his head a little.

“You just said some random nonsense at my patient Jophie,” Cedric says, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. He loves his witch-y brothers but they can be very odd at times.

“I said something to him?” Jophiel says confused, “oooh. My head.”

“Did you hit it recently?” Cedric says dragging the younger Primaris Marine to somewhere to sit.

“No!”Jophiel protested, “I think I blabbered a vision thing, but I don’t remember what I said.”

“It was… not very clear.” Cedric says.

“When are you going to be done with Felix?” Jophiel asks.

“How do you know his name?” Cedric asks.

“I ‘unno,” Jophiel says with a shrug, “he looks like a Felix to me.”

“Why did you ask when I was going to be done with my patient?” Cedric asks.

“Oh- Claude is uh…” Jophiel looked at Felix and looked away, “Claude’s gotten hit by the Curse of the Bat again.”

“Ah,” Cedric swore in his head, “I’ll get to him in a minute or two.” The young apothecary swiftly finished his tasks before going off to tend to Claude.

The young Librarian had curled into a small, dark space, wedging himself tightly, and was mumbling quietly. The witch-fire is crackling in his eyes and he’s twitching a little bit some sparks twisting along his form a little bit.

All bad signs. Claude hadn't needed to hide while suffering from one of his visions in months, not after he'd been adopted by Anrir and was getting proper training in the witchy-ways of the Eighth by Karlslor. Claude startled at his approach, dark eyes unseeing the world around him.

“Easy, Claude. It's just me.” Cedric murmured soothingly as he waited for the other to respond.

“Ced… Cedric?” Claude called out, reaching towards him blindly.

“Yes, Claude, it's me, Cedric.” The young apothecary confirmed patiently. 

“Good. Here. Safe.” He sighed, stumbling over to Cedric and leaning into him.

Cedric wrapped his arms around Claude's more slender frame, supporting the swaying psyker. “Easy there. I'm going to bring you to Karlsor, alright? And he can help you sort through the vision, okay?”

“Sounds good to me.” Claude managed out weakly.

It did not take long for Cedric to find and carefully hand over Claude to his mentor on Ancient Terra, explaining the situation as best as he could.

He then returned to base, putting together several emergency kits. The young apothecary stashed them in secure hiding spots near areas of the city where Astartes liked to frequent. Cedric was unsure where the possible fight between The Bastard and the trio of Chaos Primaris was to take place, but hopefully, if they did get hurt, he would be able to respond in time.

Meanwhile, Felix had a whispered conversation with Batsy and Mic.  Batsy still needed to not stress his legs too much, but that shouldn’t be an issue with how he fought.  Mic was more injured, but he’d always been the best shot of the group anyway, especially with his augmetics.  And they’d need to make sure that Batsy was well topped off on blood so he could use his powers.

He also conveyed Jophiel’s strange words to Batsy.  The chaos psyker would almost certainly be the best to deal with his loyalist cousin’s vision. 

Petras had finished doing some Chaplain-specific duties at the local Imperial Fist and Salamander run Loyalist base near Gannet Point. He had informed his Crusade that he’d been gone for a few hours.

He had not quite been truthful about how long he’d be attending his Chaplain duties at the base, he also needed to get some more of the… Excessive Delights that the bastard of a Chaotic Slanneshi Emperor’s child made for him.

He had gotten his order of chocolates- and had ugh, been forced to talk to that damned annoying Apothecary Hura- who ran some tests on him- some blood tests and toxicology reports.

He was a bit short and irritable, but it made sense, damned Chaos Bastards thinking they were so high and mighty. Feh. He did their stupid little tests and did fill out the dumbfuck questionnaires that the Apothecary insisted that he fill out.

When he initially refused to do the questionnaires, Apothecary Hura smiled at him and told him that, until he got all of this busy work of medical stuff done, he won’t be able to get his Excessive chocolates until he does.

He begrudgingly filled it out. Some of the questions were behavioral in nature, others were utterly bizarre and quite frankly, almost insulting at the implications that he might be corrupting into being a Chaos marine. Which he isn’t. He’s a True Son of Dorn, a Loyalist. It’s just that one bruise isn’t healing as fast as he thinks it should, and it’s starting to darken in some parts, and take the shape of a plant, almost, a thorny, flowering plant. But that’s just ridiculous and he doesn’t write that down. As that is none of Hura’s business to know.

Petras pops one of the chocolates into his mouth and he sighs, the delicious bitter-sweet notes of the chocolate melt on his tongue as he tucks the rest of the bag of Excessive Delights into one of the tactical pouches on his armor he continues to walk on.

Sometime later, Petras spotted something in the distance - likely another abomination, from the way the bulky marine moved.  Alone, this time.  As he got closer he could see the chaos markings on the marine’s armor.  So one of the primaris had finally shown their true colors.  He prepared the attack, getting as close as he could to the apparently unaware abomination before charging in to attack.

Meanwhile, Batsy and Mic hid in the shadows, Batsy’s psychic powers keeping them hidden.  Of course it only worked so long as they held perfectly still and didn’t make a sound.  Which was very hard as the effort made his fangs ache with blood thirst.

“DISGUSTING ABOMINATION IN THE NAME OF THE GOD EMPEROR I SHALL CLEANSE YOU FROM HOLY TERRA!” Petras bellows at the Chaos Abomination, vindication fills him, seeing this one reveal his true, disgusting, putrid colors.

Felix drew the chainsword at his hip as Petras started yelling.  “Yes yes I'm an abomination, thank you for the compliment.”  Chainsword gears revved as he pulled a bolt pistol as well, leveling it at Petra's chest.

Petras flicks his wrist, using his off hand to activate his tempormortis. The bubble encapsulates all three of his foes- not that he knows about the other two yet. It makes their movements incredibly slow so he’s easily able to dodge both his sword and bolt pistol as he smirks at the Chaos Abomination.

From the shadows, behind Batsy’s psychic veil, Mic lined up a shot, various implants and secondary cogitators rapidly tracking and analyzing Petras’s movements.  He aims at the weak spot in the armor underneath Petras’s sword arm and fires a single bolt-carbine shell, hoping to catch the chaplain off guard and even the odds.  Just as his shot is about to strike, Batsy takes off into the air, shadows dropping away to the sound of opening wings.

Petras grunts at the pain and the feeling of a bullet piercing through his armor and he staggers and snarls, lashing out with his weapon and looking around, “What foul treachery is this?!”

Petras hooks his tempermortis to his belt and switches his sword to his other hand and vox calls his Crusade, “Foul Chaos Traitors are attacking me! Backup requested- I’m sending you my coordinates-!”

He fights Felix and dodges Batsy’s first couple of swooping attacks. It helps that Batsy gets hit by the effects of the Tempermortis. Petras is counting down the seconds until the time dilation field turns off.

Felix taunts him in response, although his words are slowed by the field.  “Vox is jammed, they can’t hear you.  You’ll have to deal with us abominations all by yourself.”  His chainsword slashed the air again, not so much trying to wound as attempting to fend Petras off.  He still suffers a nasty wound across his belly as Petras’s power claw bites through his armor.

“You damned heretical chaos witches!” He spits back enraged.

Petras focuses his attention on Felix and the bat-abomination and manages to use his electrified power claw to pierce through one of Batsy’s wings and grabs it and with a brutal flick of his wrist breaks one of his wings at the joint before trying to cut off his head. Batsy in turn ducks under the wrist as he lands, bringing a massive force axe up towards Petras’s body even as pain shoots through his injured leg.  The psy-weapon rings off his armor as Felix aims another series of bolt shells towards the back of Petras’s legs, hoping to take advantage of his inability to face both sides at once.

He swears and dodges, while his eyes scan both of his opponents as he also tries to seek out where the Sniper is as well. He avoids the disgusting pox-ridden Nurglite and the other chaos abomination, whose allegiance is less certain.

“Foul Abominations, Kneel and repent, and die for your sins,” Petras barks out, “And the God Emperor, will then Forgive you.”

“But Apothecary Hura says I’m not supposed to use my leg for a while!” Batsy whined back, favoring his leg and compensating for it with his uninjured wing.  More bolt shells sang by Petras’s head as Mic fired from his spot behind a large rock nearby.  Batsy swung his axe again and again, hoping to beat Petras back with the sheer force, while Felix sought a weak spot in his armor to plunge his chainsword into.

One of Petras’s eyes twitches, “Of course you abominations know that fucking pain in the ass blighted, grotesque Apothecary. Ugh. Fucking Chaos!”  Right as he was distracted he felt something smack into his hip and stick there.

He tries to pull it off and toss it at one of the Chaos Abominations, “Fuck off, and damnation to you all!”  It sticks to his fingers, costing him a precious few milliseconds.  Which was all the time the shaped charge needed to go off. “Damn you to the Eternal hellfire of the God Emperor!”

The explosion staggers Petras enough that he collapses. Between his armor and his own superhuman healing factor, he should recover.  Except the blows didn’t stop, smashing into his limbs to shatter them one by one, then shatter them again before moving into his chest.  Carefully avoiding any blow that would be immediately fatal.

“May you suffer a thousand times over!” Petras snarls, as he tries to fight- continue to attack them, but his limbs betray him, his flesh which sings of pain, refuses to move. His eyes glare at them with Fire of the God Emperor as he continues to spit insults at him until he passes out.

It’s a bitter mockery of the times when he’s beaten Primaris, until they have fallen, and then continued to keep striking them while they were down. No Mercy, No Fear, no quarter given. If he survives this… He will make sure they pay for this.

[paperbackpanic]

Hii since requests are open can uh i ask for jeff the killer with a cannibal s/o ??

this is my first time requesting lol kinda nervous even tho its anonymous lol,, also your works are really good! i really enjoy them:))

Jeff with a Cannibal S/O!

A/n: this is so fun! Thank you I really put a lot of passion in my writing and seeing that people enjoy it makes me happy!! I really appreciate all the compliments and asks and requests with all my heart it makes my life more worth living knowing people see me and appreciate my work. Anyway! I already did something like this with Cody(X-Virus) if you want to check it out!

I'm so sorry for the long wait and kind of poor quality (u can request again if you'd like it redone) I've been so full of University/college work is killing me (is being fun tho I love my major!). I'm also having a lot of physical pain and idk if I'm sick, if I'm just exhausted, if I'm anemic or something else entirely different

🥩 a bit creeped out but because his brain haven't got haywired enough to break the natural defense mechanism "you shouldn't eat other humans" that everyone has.

🥩 Doesn't judge but won't partake in it either, sure he will stay in the same room as you when you cook but he won't eat it

🥩 you bite him. Constantly. He's chocked that you haven't just bit a piece off

🥩 Will bring you meat if you ask him, if is not too complicated of course. An arm? An leg? Sure, a heart? A kidney? Ask EJ he can't be bothered to dissect the body he did this too much in science class and he hated it

🥩 If you try hard enough you can convince him to cook for you, he doesn't like to cook at all so it's a hard task but when he does it turns out surprisingly good. He has a secret seasoning that he keeps hidden and no one really knows what's in it, he only confirmed it had salt and pepper.

🥩 You'll threaten bitting his fingers off and eating them raw if he's pissing you off. He'll say "it will taste like burnt meat, go ahead" which it kinda does when u lick him but this men is stinky so you don't know if it's just the filth or if he really tastes like that

🥩 If he dies you will eat his heart, it's a promise. He'll put yours in a jar.

🥩 People taste differently, depending on their lifestyle and stuff (I assume at least, is kinda like that with cows, the more stress-free they're the better the meat is). Sometimes he'll ask you to describe what different people taste like and what do you think the other creeps would taste like

🥩 You've made a rank of who you're going to eat first in the mansion, he's creeped out a lil bit but think it's fair (he's not on the list so he's more chill with it)

🥩 he thinks you're weird as shit but that's why he loves u

[nebrasska-alasska]

weee so happy you have a tumblr now! i’ve been meaning to comment on ur fics but after i read them my brain short circuits from how good they are and then i end up not doing it lol

but anws i love love love how you write and characterise these hogs sm!!! you’ve captured the dynamic bt these goobers super well, your writing style is super nice, and i also rlly enjoy sonic’s denseness is in tethered at the wrist - it’s so funny watching him go through it, im super excited to see everything unfold in the final act!!

also wanted to show my love for silly hats and party favours - it’s one of my favourite sonadow fics and i’ve been rereading it n taking notes on what scenes i want to draw fanart of hehe

sorry this is really long, thank you for sharing your wonderful writing w us! (v excited about the new kraken story also :3)

I know!!! Who would have thought that Sonadow would be the thing to make me come over to tumblr!!! Love these gay hedgehog fellas trololol

But yes! Thank you so much!!! I'm so happy that you enjoy the dynamic that I like to write between the two of them! Also LMFAO yeah Sonic's denseness in Tethered at the Wrist is kind of extreme, BUT ironically enough it's modeled after my own approach to relationships. For me personally, I only believe that someone has feelings for me if they directly tell me themselves. So many times, my friends will be like "oh XYZ has a crush on you" and the person in question won't act any different towards me, so I'll be like ??? I'll believe it when I see it chump! So that attitude I have is a major contributor for how I've written Sonic in this fic lol. It's going to take Shadow directly telling him about the feelings he has for Sonic to finally understand!

Also! I'm so happy that Silly Hats and Party Favors is one of your favorite sonadow fics, what a high compliment!! Thank you so much!!! And fanart you say???? *side-eyes with a smirk* I would love to see it if you ever finish it one day!!!

This was a long response but thank you for the ask!!! It was a delight to read :)