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muniimyg · 2 days ago

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ SUPERNOVA // JJK ੈ✩‧₊˚

01 | 02 | ♡ 03

— stuck in an unspoken love triangle, oc and jungkook face the end of it all

au/genre:

mean girl au

love triangle

childhood friends to lovers

note: omg ! the end <3

jungkook had a plan.

he was going to show you around the new exhibit, confess, and ask to be your boyfriend. his entire life, he waited for signs and for the perfect time—only for him to realize that there will never be a moment where bells ring and tell him; now.

no.

you see, after all this time—for his entire life—you have been the quiet.

his quiet.

all his life, it’s like his eyes only focused on you. everything and everyone around him was blurry and the only real clarity he had in his life was art and you… and as corny as it is; that’s what you are to him entirely.

art.

from your pottery, to the way you look, and to the way you simple are—you are his favourite masterpiece.

the canvas gallery is where you two ran around as kids, amazed at all the pieces other artists made. so, it only made sense that this would be the place where he kicks his anxiety in the ass and finally fucking goes for it.

so, he waited.

and waited.

…. and waited.

and right when he was about to call you—

hana showed up.

she grabbed his arm and yapped all about how excited she is to be here with him. to that, jungkook shook off her grip and stepped away.

...

“what are you doing here?”

“___ gave me her ticket—”

“fuck that. hana, why do you always do this? why do you always take things from ___?”

with distant yet jealous eyes, hana replied; “because she has better things than me. i like her things. is it so wrong to like her things?”

“are you insane?”

“maybe.” hana scoffed. “i don’t get it. what does she have that i don’t? we grew up together and did everything together—yet, it’s like… i’m not even half of her.”

“because you aren’t.” he growled. “you hate ___, right?”

silence.

“that’s okay,” jungkook exhaled. “cos i fucking hate you. with all my being. ever since you blew out ___’s 14th birthday candles. ever since you always kissed the guys she was into. ever since her pottery business bloomed and you accidently knocked over a piece she was working on for two months. god, hana. i have and will always hate you.”

“shit, jungkook. is that it? are you done—”

“no,” he sighed. “i will never be done hating you for taking every opportunity to turn anything good for ___ into something bad. you want to play mean girl? fine by me. let’s fucking play. get this through your fucking head; i will never be yours but i will forever be ___'s."

...

jungkook gave you time.

partly because he was mad—mad that you gave hana your ticket so easily, mad at how quickly you folded like you always do. but mostly, because he knows how you are in moments like this. you don’t talk. you retreat, giving yourself space to breathe, to think. he hopes you’re using the time to clear your head, making space for him.

by the third week of awkward text exchanges—his dry "good night" met with your overly polite “you too"—and no more nightly facetime calls where he fell asleep to your voice, jungkook snaps.

he gets into his car and drives to your studio.

the late afternoon light spills through the frosted windows as he parks outside. his stomach twists at the sight of the closed sign hanging on the door, but the faint hum of a song playing inside tells him you’re there. jungkook knocks, loud and insistent.

for a moment, he worries you won’t answer.

that you’ll pretend not to hear him or let the music drown him out. but then, he hears the soft shuffle of slippers and the click of the lock.

when the door creaks open, you’re there.

cheeks flushed from the warmth of the studio, hair tied back messily, and streaks of dried clay smudged across your forearms. your apron is dusted in powdery beige, a damp hand towel clutched in your fingers.

“jungkook—”

he doesn’t let you finish.

his name on your lips is enough to tip him over the edge. stepping forward, he pushes the door shut behind him and closes the space between you in one fluid motion.

your back hits the sink behind you with a soft thud, the cool porcelain biting through the thin fabric of your apron. his hands find your waist first, firm and grounding, as though he’s anchoring himself to you.

“w-what are you—”

“i can’t do this anymore,” he mutters, his voice low and trembling, the words spilling out as though they’ve been trapped inside for years.

he shifts closer, one hand leaving your waist to cradle your jaw. his thumb grazes your cheek, where a smear of dried clay clings to your skin. you’re so warm, and so unbearably soft that it makes his chest ache. his other hand brushes against the edge of your apron, his knuckles bumping against the damp streaks of clay still drying on your fingers.

“jungkook—” you try again, but your voice falters when he leans in. his forehead brushes yours, and he’s so close you can see the strain in his jaw, the tension pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“i’ve had enough, ___,” he breathes, his voice trembling with something between desperation and exhaustion. “i’m tired of bending backwards to see you. i'm tired of people standing in front of you and i'm sick of you letting them. most of all, i’m tired of waiting for the right time. i—i’ve been in love with you since we were seven, and you know that.”

his hand leaves your cheek to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers trembling slightly as they linger there. “i haven’t done much to hide it, have i? i'm sorry. i've been a coward but... maybe i never did anything because i always knew how you felt about me too.”

your hands tighten on the towel, the wet clay squelching under your fingers. you glance down, unable to meet his gaze, but he doesn’t let you escape.

“look at me,” he pleads softly, tilting your chin upward until your eyes lock with his. the raw intensity in his stare steals the air from your lungs.

“please, ___... i'm fucking begging to you see me through this,” he whispers, his voice breaking as he leans his forehead against yours again. “i'm begging you to take my heart and mold it yours.”

and that’s exactly what you do.

your hands tremble, damp with clay and nerves, as you reach for him. you cradle his jaw gently, your thumbs brushing over the faint stubble along his cheeks.

then you kiss him.

jungkook freezes at first, his breath hitching in surprise, but it takes only a heartbeat before he softens. his lips move against yours, slow and deep, like he’s memorizing every second of this moment.

he’s hesitant—his hands stay planted on your waist, his grip cautious, almost shy. but when you sigh against him, his restraint snaps. his fingers curl into the fabric of your apron as he steps closer, pressing his body firmly against yours.

he bends his knees slightly, his arms sliding down to wrap around your thighs. with a quiet grunt, he lifts you effortlessly, settling you on the edge of the sink. your legs part instinctively, making room for him to step closer, his body slotting perfectly between yours.

you gasp softly as his hands find the back of your thighs, pulling you flush against him. your fingers slip into his hair, still streaked with clay, and he laughs quietly against your lips at the mess you're making.

his laugh fades quickly, replaced by a deep hum as he kisses you harder, with more certainty. the kiss grows messy, your breaths mingling and the faint taste of salt lingering between you.

when he finally pulls back, his lips are swollen, and his eyes search yours with an intensity that makes your heart stutter. he doesn’t move far—his forehead rests against yours, his nose brushing yours as his fingers trace small circles on your thighs.

“so…” he whispers, his lips curling into a boyish grin as his gaze flicks to your apron, your hands still smeared with clay. “about that mug?”

#bts mini fic complete #jk scenario #jungkook confession #jungkook f2l #jungkook childhood friends to lovers #jungkook fic #jungkook scenario

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methoughtsphantom · 23 hours ago

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Jason “my family doesn’t know im alive” Todd and Danny “my family doesn’t know I’m dead” Fenton going alongside each of their plans my beloved. like Danny will absolutely go head-to-head with all of Gotham to support his new best friend on all his crime lord endeavors while he drags Jason to also attend collage with him. They are roommates and there never seems to a mention of family from either side. It’s an unspoken understanding they have. They met because Crime alley as a ghost lair thrummed with so much loneliness, it was at first the perfect place for Danny to hide his ecto signature in. But then he saw the dumbass whose lair it was lean his motorcycle just a tad too much when making a sharp turn to an alley, he sweeped the floor through a lifted chain link that passed his body but not his helmet. Yep that’s right the red thing got stuck. Danny who at the moment happened to be watching through his window snorted. Much to his horror because if not a ghost that dude could’ve gotten his head flung off.

Still, the scene was ridiculous.

On a whim he irrationally sees the police closing in on the guy and panicked at the thought of the guy using intangibility to free himself so Danny phased them both through his apartment wall and left the guy sprawled in his couch. Jason didn’t freak out but that’s normal when one’s got a concussion, one the guy immediately denied having as Danny laid out the medical supplies. The idiot proceeded to almost flatten four steps to the door with his stubbornness. He also said “I’m asexual” in the most deadpan voice as Danny dropped him back in the couch.

Danny sighed. Clearly though, he’d done so too early in the night because the guy kept trying to go, kept trying to knock Danny out, kept trying to slash him with knifes Danny didn’t know he had stashed. He’d only disarmed the guy from his guns. The visible ones apparently, cause at one point the guy did take out a gun and shoot until the ammo ran out and then teetered the thing like it was an art prop and hit his moon lamp.

Danny "yeah you aren’t officially my friend until you’ve tried to kill me" fenton my guys.

Anyways both keep having the same argument over if Danny technically kidnapped Jason or not. Danny holds the fact that the police at least didn’t see the guy make the ridicule. Jason argued that happened cause he was sporting a concussion. Danny argued he got that after.

Jason at first thinks the guy's a meta, but no. Danny introduces himself, sheepily now that he recognizes this is who the lair he invaded is from. He bandages him and tries to cook for him. If Danny didn’t have ice powers he most certainly would’ve burned the apartment. Jason then proceeds to kick him out of his own kitchen and make them both enchiladas. It’s the most normal both had in a while with another person and the air seems oddly settled. From then on, Jason constantly invited himself over, under the pretense that this was his territory and therefore he could drop in unannounced. Danny who has actual powers says he only allows this because Jason cooks very well.

Danny stays away from the crime fighting business unless his buddy is in deep shit he can’t get himself out. Also it’s Danny’s turn to cover for his vigilante friend which Sam and Tucker give him so much shit for. (but also advice)

And they were roommates. (omg) Danny effectively derails Jason’s big comeback plans by casually dropping ghost lore every two days. Like,

Jason, talking about how he doesn’t want Bats snooping on his territory:

Danny: Just don’t let them in

Jason: ??

Danny: yeah!! Hasn’t Batman died and got revived??? You can totally kick out death touched people you don’t want entering on your lair.

Jason: …I can?

Danny: Yep dude, your lair’s supposed to feel safe.

Jason: wait does that mean I can kick you out?

Danny: First this is my apartment. Second, im dead, not dead touched. Third, it’s too late to get rid of me. bitch.

Anyways Jason is super excited. You mean to tell him he can actually deny people over to his territory haunt?? (Yes it’s only to people who have died and came back but still!! The sample size is exactly the type of people he doesn’t want to see—!)

Joker my beloathed can’t step foot in Crime Alley.

(Jason’d feel a lot safer if the clown was dead but the possibility of his murderer turning into a ghost and their little loophole not applying on the clown is too scary to contemplate.)

Anyways, Jason loves experimenting with the power. It can go from simply making people shudder and not want to enter crime Alley to straight up not letting them enter like there’s an invisible wall blocking the way.

Jason because he’s hurt that Bruce never even patrols Crime Alley and also because he’s petty put B under the category of “invisible wall” blacklist. His reasoning is that the man doesn’t even attempt to enter Crime Alley. To him it’s surely just a place shadowed in tragedy. (anyways that’s it’s the place he met Jason)

Ironically, Jason totally forgets that Batman does venture into Crime Alley one day in the whole year. The day he met Jason.

Okay. He didn’t forget at first. The first year Jason remembers cause it was only a few months till then but then the next— Jason forgets that today’s the anniversary of the day’s Bruce’s parents died. He forgets to allow B in when he feels a slight tug and dismiss the feeling that prompts Bruce to investigate because he literally can’t enter Crime Alley. He starts the trialsTM, he scouts on the very edge and sees people the whole day enter and get out and cross with no problem but Bruce can’t.

It’s literally just Bruce.

Time to call Constantine, i guess.

#bat shenanigans ensue #JSJSJS okay so i dont have a well versed timeline of events but two years after utrh who HASNT died of the batfam #cause those are the ones who are gonna go undercover to find what shady shit is this: )#im going with timmy cass and duke #sorry steph i KNOW you have died #the others have plausible deniability from my part #the trio is gonna come down hard on this unsuspecting pair #let's just say constantine just had one spare magical rune for each of them so they'll be able to identify who was powerful enough to do it #and duke found civvie jason. cass found civvie danny and tim also found jason a la squared. in his red hood get up later that night #the only useful photos are from tim's side but anyways since they got three suspects (one suspected to be the other. so really-- two)#they decide to split each other up and tag one each (whoever doesn't get the correct guy loses)#tim calls dibs on the twink. cass rolls her eyes and narrows her eyes at the red hood and duke smirks when he gets to keep his guy #he's not cheating if he didn't protest to getting to have the guy he already saw the aura of. he's sure he is IT #coincidentally duke happens to be the only bat jason doesn't recognize (and vice versa)#meanwhile cass is gonna be the one shadowing red hood which at this point he doesn't kill that much since he has his rules verymuch enforce #he does kill tho #so at some point they're gonna clash but at the start of the investigation no #let them be siblings your honor #big sis cass and her little brother 6'4 jay #and tim finally is gonna be the one to smoothly get himself in the conversation with cryptid roommate civilian danny fenton #genius dumbasses protection club #their first meeting is of course arranged but no less meet cute coffee shop au #anyways jason wants to know why the fuck hes got a bat tagging along with him so out of the blue and also why can't he fucking chase her of #cass is curious about how the red hood's mood constantly changes within her range yet he never attacks her despite his hurt-longing-anger #the boy who doesn't make noise fucking screeches when she sneaks up to him #and duke fucking brings his hands to block the chernobyl reject glow stick sun that's stands next to tim #while tim looks like his whole system is rebooting cause that's jason todd #dp x dc #danny phantom #jason todd

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figthoughts · 1 day ago

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How do you think SB and Dean would react to reader safewording? I have some sort of idea for Dean, but with SB? Very mixed tbh

omg i have many thoughts !! allow me to ramble thank u ! (soldier boy’s part is a little ehhhh, just read with caution if ur sensitive to dubcon type scenarios!) 18+ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

— dean winchester ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

dean loves sex. he’s made that abundantly clear throughout your relationship. anytime he can get his hands on you, he will. and so naturally, you’ve spent time learning each other’s bodies, kinks, likes ‘n dislikes and everything in between. you’re entirely comfortable together.

so one day when you suddenly blurt out your safe word, dean pauses, his eyes flickering up to meet yours — to check in with you.

“baby, you okay? you wanna stop?” his words are gentle and full of love, concern splashed across his features.

his face softens while he nods along to your quiet explanation, pulling out/away from whatever he’d been doing to you. he settles down beside you, watching you as if you’re about to shatter into a million pieces.

“s’okay, sweetheart. we can stop. you don’t need an excuse. if you’re not feeling up to it, it’s not a big deal. we can just cuddle if you want,” he shrugs with a reassuring expression on his face, “you look like you need a hug, yeah? c’mere.”

dean opens his arms for you, letting you crawl against his chest. he nuzzles his chin into the top of your head, holding you snug against him, his hand rubbing down your back in a soothing motion.

“thank you for letting me know, baby,” he murmurs against your hair, leaving a soft kiss. he’s just happy you feel safe enough to ask him to stop whenever you need.

— soldier boy [ben] ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

i can’t decide between two ideas, so i’m giving you both !!

ben—your ben—the world’s strongest man who, simultaneously, is the world’s softest man the second he’s got his sweet little lady between his sheets.

there’s no denying he fucks like a pornstar on speed. it’s sometimes frightening how long he can keep at it — fucking you until you’re spent and boneless, blissed out and overstimulated from your umpteenth orgasm. he loves when you’re unable to form words, just soft incoherent babbles that force a grin to spread across his face as he plows into you with a superhuman force.

he loves going over the top to please you. and so it’s no surprise when you mumble out your safe word through warm salty tears, tired and unable to take any more of what he’s giving you. he slows down, meeting your gaze with his own. “what’s the matter? had enough, my pretty lady?”

ben knows sex with him can be a lot, and considering you’re just a sweet little doll, he knows it’s up to you to call it when you’ve had enough — cause if it were up to ben, you’d never leave his damn bed.

your mumbled pleas earn a nod in return from ben, “alright, babygirl. s’not a problem. here—” he pulls himself away from you, “i’ll run you a bath, yeah?”

you watch him get up and start heading to the bathroom, but not before he turns around, throwing you a cheeky wink, “i think that might’ve been a new record for ya, doll.”

alternatively… ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

ben’s rough. he’s rough around the edges. you know it. he knows it. everyone he’s ever met knows it. but he doesn’t just look rough or talk rough — he fucks rough.

you’re no stranger to the supe and how he bends you in half, like he’s unafraid of breaking you with his strength and brute force. for the most part, you take it like a good little thing, letting him break you down into nothing, but a whimpering little mess below him. and he loves it, ruining women while he doesn’t even break a sweat.

so when he mentions going a little further—adding a few new things to your nightly affairs—you agree, but only with the clear understanding that you get a safe word.

and ben agrees. i mean, anything to get his babydoll back into his bed, right?

so when he’s got you in half, your limbs flailing around in the air, pleading for him to stop, he simply doesn’t. he knows you know your safe word, and he hasn’t heard it leave your sweet little mouth yet. so he continues on, tiring out your sore body beyond belief — he’s really getting his kicks from seeing you all fucked out and begging like your life depends on it.

“look at you, damn slut. you like this, don’t you?” he grunts out, watching you sob and try to free yourself from his restraints. your eyes are filled to the brim with tears, your emotions clear on your face. he loves that you’re taking it for him — being a good ol’ little thing for him.

so it’s much to his surprise when you sob out your safe word. he’s a little bewildered to say the least. his brows pinch together, but he doesn’t slow down, not one bit.

his thrusts get harder, his eyes locked on your pleading little face. “just give me a damn minute. i’m close,” he mutters, his breath a little laboured, as if seeing you like this is the driving factor pushing him to the edge.

it doesn’t take long for him to finish, and when he does, he’s panting with the stupidest grin on his face. he slumps down on top of you, invading your space, “jesus, that was fuckin’ something, hey? you liked that, my sweet little thing?”

all you can do is sniffle and try to catch your breath while his weight crushes you. he presses a kiss to your cheek and he hears your breath hitch. and he knows he’s got you exactly where he wants — in the palm of his fucking hand.

A/N: this was soooo fun to type up !!! i love scenario requests sm (feel free to send me more) !!!!!! also first time writing something a lil darker w the dubcon part !!! what do we thinkkkkk? <3

feedback and reblogs are appreciated! thank uuu!

✩ taglist cause why not: @chevroletdean @fitxgrld @jasvtsc @bluestrd @1-imbroglio @titsout4jackles @faithfulsofi @tortureddarkstar @abellmunsonmovie @legalmente-loca @theoneandonlystonedspiderman420 @manicjk @aileenunfiltered @minettacreekk @jackleslvr @winchester-whiskey @emeraldcrs @freyabear @floralscented @cosmopolitan-thedrink @jwritestuff @suhnisideup @spookyysinsanity @kimxwinchester @bleuatlas @deansbbyx @angelicjackles @deansbeer @artemys-ackles @bluemerakis @misatxox @star-yawnznn @ambiguous-avery @sl33pylilbunny @k-slla @deanswidow @psychicnatural @ghostlyaccurate

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onehundredelevven · 2 days ago

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What about a jealous Mr.Scarletella , Mr.crawling or Mr.Gap or anyone who you like head canons I think it would be very interesting NDIDNDJSNJSJS I live for any Homicipher content ahhhh we need more of it!!

I just need more brain rot content please （ΦωΦ）

Thank you!

Also hope your doing well sorry i requested another one but forgot to add thank you (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

Her u go bestie~(this is literally from last year omg)

Jealousy?

contains: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Scarletta, Mr. Silvair, and Mr. Chopped

☆☆☆

Mr. Crawling

You were sitting on the floor, chatting with Mr. Silvair about something about medical stuff, but Mr. Crawling wasn’t having it. He kept glancing over at the two of you, his body twitching every time Silvair's attention turned toward you.

His head tilted in confusion, but his voice came out low and grumbling. “Me not like... you talk too much. You... talk with me?”

You blinked, surprised by his sudden pout. “What’s wrong, Crawling? You’re always by my side.”

“Me... don’t like see you with others,” he grumbled, inching closer and leaning against you. His hands brushed against your arm, trying to pull your attention back to him.

“You're still my number one, Crawling,” you said gently, rubbing his head.

He didn’t say much after that, but his clinginess spoke volumes. He stayed close, his body pressed against yours, as if reminding you that he didn’t want to share you with anyone else.

---

Mr. Scarletella

Mr. Scarletella stood in the shadows, watching as you chatted with another figure in the room. His gaze was sharp, narrowed, and full of something dangerous.

“You like... others more?” he asked, stepping forward with a dangerous edge to his voice.

You turned to face him, blinking in surprise. “What do you mean? I’m just talking to—”

His intense gaze locked onto the person you were speaking to. “Not like,” he murmured, his fingers twitching at his side. “You belong to me. Not them.”

The words weren’t angry, but there was a possessiveness behind them that sent a chill down your spine.

“You... feel jealous?” you asked, teasing lightly, though his reaction caught you off guard.

“Not jealous,” he corrected quickly, though there was a slight edge to his voice. “Just... mine.”

You couldn’t help but smile. "Well, I’m yours then."

He nodded once, satisfied, stepping closer and pulling you into his personal space. “Good.”

---

Mr. Silvair

Mr. Silvair was used to keeping his emotions under control. But as he watched you laughing with Mr. Chopped, a rare flicker of irritation crossed his usually calm expression.

He cleared his throat loudly, but neither of you seemed to notice.

"Silvair?" you called, tilting your head in confusion as he walked over.

His demeanor was calm, but his voice remained composed. "You... laugh with others," he said, though it came out more as a statement than a question.

“Is there a problem?” you teased, grinning at him.

He didn’t immediately answer, but you noticed his posture was a little stiffer than usual. He crossed his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Mr. Chopped.

"...Nothing," he muttered, before his demeanor softened.

You couldn’t help but laugh, but his possessive nature was unmistakable. It was the first time you’d seen him act so... human.

---

Mr. Chopped

You were having a casual chat with Mr. Crawling when Mr. Chopped suddenly appeared on the table, his head swiveling back and forth between you two.

“What’s going on here? Me not like!” He huffed, his voice bright but with a noticeable pout.

“M-Mr. Chopped? What’s wrong?” you asked, trying not to laugh at how he was practically vibrating with energy.

“Me... feel left out! You talk too much with him!” he complained, puffing his cheeks.

You chuckled and scooped him up, holding him close. “Aw, you’re not left out. You’re always with me.”

“But... but...” His head twirled as he stared at Machete, who just chuckled quietly at the scene. “I want attention too! Me need... hair time!”

You laughed, and sure enough, Mr. Chopped let you comb his hair with a little more gusto than usual, his earlier jealousy forgotten in favor of your full attention.

#111dumps #homicipher x reader #homicipher #mr crawling #mr chopped x reader #mr chopped #mr crawling x reader #mr scarletta #mr scarletta x reader #mr silvair #mr silver x reader #文字化化

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befallenstars-archive · 2 days ago

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This'll be the first time that I read one of your works, Ze! Hope you don't mind me yapping. It's recently become a small routine/habit of mine🫂

Spoilers and lots of yapping under the cut!

I wanna start off with the tags. My reaction was pretty normal until I read the "(ajax licks) blood and tears". Was I deterred? No, I was invested. Oh, my...all enemies and no lovers??? Tension only??? I just know this'll be good.

Brb, I'll listen to the song first...

Huh, I'd definitely trust your music taste.

The snow falls thick and fast, yet the village continues to burn. Screams and shouts of villagers, mixed with the clashing of metal, rise above the roar of devouring flames of blue.

Okay! We're diving straight into this. Love that actually.

Those who fail to meet the fae’s standards are left alone, shivering and watching in the cold.

I GOT GOOSEBUMPS.

The way you write scratches my brain just right. Even better that your style of writing genuinely matches the overall dark vibe you're going for. I can literally feel it in my bones.

Gently grabbing your shoulders before shaking you bc I fell in love at first work with your writing. I need to read more of your works, Ze! Omg, why did it take so long before my dash gifted me with it? I should've looked for it myself!

Sorry, just not-so casually a sucker for your writing style.

It is the most luxurious piece of clothing you own; a beautiful dark green cloth lined with fur, decorated by unfinished hand-embroidered leaves and flowers and bunnies—a project you’ve been chipping away at this winter.

I already noticed this with the way you described the horses but there's truly just something about the way you do it. Like I can oh so easily imagine whatever it is you are narrating

I LOVE THE TINY DETAILS

Snowflakes continue to fall, decorating your hair and eyelashes with diamonds, while the shoulders of your cloak become dusted in sugar.

Is it bad to say that I wanna eat your fics? (affectionately(?))

The snow dances around you and you can’t help but indulge in a spin, cloak sweeping out around you in a swirl of deep green. Your huff of laughter is stolen by the wind, but the delight within you remains.

I think I fell in love—

You have a writing style that gives me fairy tale kind of vibes. Even if it's dark. It would be so fun reading this out loud with theatrics and some drama.

In my head? I'm doing just that. It is so good.

...

All of this is so good that I can't pick one line and yap about.

You know he is fae right away by his unnatural beauty. His hair glimmers a coppery orange under the light of the full moon, all windswept and dusted in snow. His eyes seem to glow as they scan you from head to toe, a blue just a shade darker than that of the flames destroying the village. Ears taper into a fine point and from his left one dangles a deep red crystal that only makes you think of blood. He smiles, then, as you observe him. His canines are sharp and long, like that of a fox, and you are frozen with wide, shining eyes of a bunny.

GODS

WHAT I WOULDN'T GIVE TO HAVE THE ABILITY TO WRITE A SCENE THE WAY YOU DO—

IT'S JUST SO???? I CANT EVEN DO JUSTICE TO DESCRIBE IT. I SINCERELY APOLOGIZE.

You don’t think he’s talking solely about the snow.

I am so deeply immersed in this fic that I physically swallowed when I read this.

He laughs, throwing his head back as the sound erupts from his throat. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his breath beading in the winter air.

...For the love of— I have thoughts but I shan’t say them out loud for propriety's sake.

He had not intended to take you back to the fae realm, but then you had to go and run.

THAT WAS FOUL

“Ouch,” the fae calls after you. His voice is loud and clear, and you know he’s only getting closer. “Don’t hurt yourself too much trying to escape, okay?”

🙂💢

I dunno, there was something about this that just got on my nerves.

...

It was not in 2025 bingo card to find myself having a tiny crush on this man AGAIN.

What in the sadomasochism...

Nope. No. Bye—

“Are you done?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone. “If not, I can do this all night.”

I just want to be slightly violent. Just a bit.

...and you realize you are at this fae’s mercy, pinned like a prized butterfly in a collection; all pretty and helpless, on display for him to study.

Mnh...yes...I am...slightly dysfunctional.

Sitting in my chair with my back slightly hunched and a hand over my lips as I question myself.

“Try that again, I dare you.” His voice is rough and yet it doesn’t sound like a threat.

......................

Zipping my mouth closed.

...the sensation of your nails digging into his abdomen is not one he’ll forget anytime soon.

What if I actually lose it?

Mnh? Ze? Will you take accountability?!

He tastes the lie and grins. “That’s not true now, is it?”

Okay, I am brought by to sanity by the genuine question of what the hell does a lie taste like?

Ajax is enchanted. Has he ever seen a human so beautiful?

And I am back to the edge of my sanity. Lovely.

His groan of delight is overlapped by your whimper, the cut on your cheek stinging as fear flows through your veins.

...slamming my head on the table right now.

What— no, I?? This is...am I really? No...what? Hahaha. That's not...maybe?

Ajax grins, taking in the vision before him. “You’re perfect.”

I'm going insane.

Okay, the note was really cute tho??? I'm sorry but I imagine it in a chibi kind of style where Targtaglia's standing by the door while reader collects their stuff. Maybe doggo will betray the reader by being nice to Tartraglia, who absolutely eats it up when the reader glares at both him and the dog.

EASY ON THE EYES, EASIER TO HATE. tartaglia x reader ✧ 2.7k words

when the fae raid your village to take humans into their realm, you think you’ll be safe in the woods. but you run into a fae who introduces himself as tartaglia and realize it might have been safer for you to stay at home.

tags and warnings ✧ fae!tartaglia, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used), reader sews and tailors clothes for a living, the fae are pretty brutal, mentions of violence, (ajax licks) blood and tears, chasing (predator prey dynamic), manhandling, all enemies and no lovers (only tension oops). note ✧ this is a darker fic compared to most of my writing; please let me know if I need to tag anything else! title inspired by the song "psycho" by taylor acorn. a gift for @cruel-hiraeth for teahouse's secret santa! happy new year, kae! i hope this fic helps you start off the year right by loving hating tartaglia >u< this was lots of fun to write hehe and got a little long because the au ran away from me... i hope you enjoy! love you lots <3

The snow falls thick and fast, yet the village continues to burn. Screams and shouts of villagers, mixed with the clashing of metal, rise above the roar of devouring flames of blue.

The fae are here.

They pull people out of their beds, pushing them into the streets. Turn their faces toward the light of a burning house—looking for the beautiful humans, still young and nimble. Or searching for evidence of skill in the arts; a pretty face matters little if one can produce beautiful things in ways that the fae cannot. Those who fail to meet the fae’s standards are left alone, shivering and watching in the cold.

The humans the fae deem acceptable meet a much worse fate. They are picked up and thrown in the back of carts, drawn by horses with ears too long and manes too wild, their coats unusually glossy and vibrant. The chosen who try to escape are bound with rope that cruelly digs into skin. Those who try to fight are taken down brutally, then laughed at as they writhe on the ground—though the fae make sure no permanent damage is done, for that would defeat the purpose of the raid.

A fae bearing a torch of blue flames brings it up to the walls of each house of those who have been chosen. The blue catches on the wood unnaturally quickly, spreading with a voracious hunger despite the wind and snow. Within the hour, nothing will remain besides a pile of ash.

But by then, the fae and the chosen villagers will be long gone.

You are lucky that sleep is so elusive tonight.

Earlier, after tossing and turning in bed for ages, you give up on trying to fall asleep. It is hard to leave your dog who has curled up beside you in a ball of white fluff, but you press a kiss between her ears before changing into some warmer layers. You sweep a thick winter cloak over your shoulders. It is the most luxurious piece of clothing you own; a beautiful dark green cloth lined with fur, decorated by unfinished hand-embroidered leaves and flowers and bunnies—a project you’ve been chipping away at this winter. Putting on boots that have long since been molded to the shape of your feet, you leave your house to catch some fresh air and possibly tire yourself out along the way.

The blanket of pure white is beautiful. The full moon makes everything glitter as snow stretches from the outskirts of the village into the forests beyond. Snowflakes continue to fall, decorating your hair and eyelashes with diamonds, while the shoulders of your cloak become dusted in sugar.

It is so quiet out here. The whistling of the wind and the thoughts in your head are the only sounds you hear. You are used to this, though. Every day you sew and tailor clothes in the back of the village’s clothing store, often alone for hours on end with nothing but your thoughts for company.

A strong gust of wind rocks you on your feet. Clutching your cloak tighter and tossing the fur-lined hood up over your head, you turn your back on the forest to face the trail of footsteps you’ve made through the snow. You should head home.

Still, you take your time approaching the village. The snow dances around you and you can’t help but indulge in a spin, cloak sweeping out around you in a swirl of deep green. Your huff of laughter is stolen by the wind, but the delight within you remains.

Then the first scream rips through the night.

You freeze. Scanning the houses on the outskirts of the village reveals no dangers.

Another cry follows the first and you know something must be terribly wrong.

You start running toward the village, kicking up snow as your mind races. Perhaps someone is getting robbed—but no one in town would dare. Or based on the growing amount of cries and shouts, maybe something happened that has injured a lot of people. A fire?

As you make it to the buildings, you see that you are right. Fire engulfs one of the homes on the far side of town, the flames reaching for the sky. A shudder runs through you at the sight, for the flames are unnaturally blue, and though this is the first time you’ve seen such a thing, you have heard of the stories and warnings about the cyan fire and those that accompany it.

You will not let the fae take you.

Whirling around, you sprint for the woods. The screams of the other villagers ring in your ears, but you know it is impossible for you to take on a single fae, let alone an army of them. They are here to steal humans away. For what, you’re not sure, but it can’t be for anything good. Though you doubt they would choose to take you, the best way to make sure you can see the sunrise tomorrow is to hide in the woods and avoid them all.

Reaching the treeline seems to take ages. You keep looking over your shoulder as you run, half expecting to have been spotted, but you only see more and more flames of blue burning houses to the ground.

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of your home being set ablaze—your dog!—but then you remember the fae only burn the houses of the humans they take and relief washes over you.

With your thoughts consumed by the safety of your dog, you don’t notice that you have slowed, trying to catch your breath in the midst of the trees. Nor do you notice that you aren’t alone anymore, until the newcomer starts speaking.

“My, my. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Dread sinks like a stone in your stomach. You spin, eyes wide as they land on the source of those playful and teasing words, leaning against a nearby tree with his arms crossed.

He hums and tilts his head. It is then that you remember he asked a question, and your throat works to find your voice to answer him. “I was out for a stroll,” you manage to say, words somehow steady despite your fluttering pulse.

It’s a half-truth, but half-truths are half-lies, and there’s the slightest hint of bitterness in the back of Ajax’s throat that always accompanies humans’ lies. “Oh, really? And was that before or after we made our presence known?”

“Before, actually,” you tell him honestly. “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take a walk. The snow is beautiful and the moon is bright—it’s pretty, is it not?” If you talk enough, maybe he’ll lose interest so you can make a run for it. You don’t know much about fae, but with the way he’s dressed in nicer clothing than what most men in your village wear, surely he won’t care for running through the snowy forest.

He smiles. “It is pretty.” His eyes refuse to leave your frame, and a shiver runs through you. You don’t think he’s talking solely about the snow.

Pushing off the tree, he takes a few steps forward, nearly silent despite the boots he wears. He stops when you stiffen, clutching your cloak tighter in your hands. “Where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Tartaglia,” he says, picking one of his many names to give you. “And you are?”

You press your lips together and force a smile. Even you know not to give the fae your name, no matter how much of a gentleman he is pretending to be. Your stomach rolls, unease making your heart rate pick up again. “I’m-” You see the way he perks up in interest, expecting a name. “I’m leaving,” you spit out, turn on your heels, and run.

Ajax watches you leave, the green of your cloak billowing out behind you like a rabbit’s tail inviting him to chase. He laughs, throwing his head back as the sound erupts from his throat. “Oh, you shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his breath beading in the winter air.

He had not intended to take you back to the fae realm, but then you had to go and run. And he wouldn’t dare to let all your hard work go to waste—so he’ll participate in the delightful hunt you’ve set up for him.

The ground is uneven beneath your feet. It is hard to tell where the tree roots are under the thick layer of snow and each breath of air feels like tiny needles stabbing your lungs. But you push on, feet pounding as quickly as you can force yourself to go.

You want to be as far away from that fae as you can get. He had not looked like he was going to chase you when you last saw him, laughing as you ran away, but there was a look in his eyes that pushed you to keep running.

When you toss a quick glance over your shoulder, your breath hitches and terror rushes through you.

He’s there. In the distance, but you can see him, weaving through the trees at an inhuman pace, his long legs carrying him far. He is gaining on you and you fear what he will do when he catches you.

You push yourself to run even harder, but your legs burn and your throat feels tight. In your haste, you fail to see the lower hanging branches of a nearby tree. A cry tears from your lips as a thin branch slices through the skin of your cheek, but you barely feel the pain with your face nearly frozen from the cold.

“Ouch,” the fae calls after you. His voice is loud and clear, and you know he’s only getting closer. “Don’t hurt yourself too much trying to escape, okay?”

Through your huffs for air, you manage to shout back at him. “Piss off! Leave me alone!”

Ajax grins, closing the distance. “I don’t think I will,” he says.

He lunges forward and grabs a fistful of your cloak. You stumble from the pull, tripping over your feet. He uses the momentum to spin you around, pushing you backward until you hit a tree, forcing the air from your lungs. His body presses against yours right after, caging you in with one leg wedged between your own.

“Let go of me!” you shout, slamming your fists into his chest. You try shoving all of your weight into him but he simply presses back harder until his chest is flush against yours.

He laughs—laughs!—as you struggle against him, kicking and yelling and throwing your weight from side to side. He does not budge at all under the onslaught. You do everything you can, but only wear yourself out, leaning back against the tree to catch your breath.

“Are you done?” he asks, amusement coloring his tone. “If not, I can do this all night.”

His reaction makes your blood boil, most of your fear buried beneath anger. You glare down past his arm that still grips your cloak and catch sight of a sliver of pale skin peeking through the folds of his clothes. Moving your gaze back up to his face, you spit out, “I hope you die.”

And then you dig your nails into the exposed skin of his stomach, sink your teeth into the arm holding onto your cloak, and shove with all your might.

Ajax stumbles backward.

You rip yourself out of his hold, twist your body to the side, taking one step forward, free-

Arms wrap around your waist and throw you back toward the tree. Your feet catch on his boot, making you lose your balance, perfect for Ajax to maneuver your body as he wills. This time, he pins your hands above your head, one large hand grasping your wrists, while his other arm presses as an immovable bar across your collarbones. One leg forces its way between your own, and you realize you are at this fae’s mercy, pinned like a prized butterfly in a collection; all pretty and helpless, on display for him to study.

You look down. You don’t want to see the anger on his face before he retaliates for your actions.

The arm across your chest shifts and you flinch as gloved fingers grab your chin, firm but not painful as he tilts your head, forcing you to look at him. You’re taken aback by the grin on his face, canines bared and bloodthirsty, but his eyes are amused.

“Try that again, I dare you.” His voice is rough and yet it doesn’t sound like a threat.

Your eyes grow wide. This kind of a creature is not one you will be able to escape, at least not now—unarmed except for your teeth and nails.

Ajax lets go of your chin, pulling back slightly. He’s delighted by the fire within you. When he first saw you, running toward the woods, he simply thought you a pretty coward. But oh you dared to fight back, using what little defenses humans naturally have, and you even broke skin. Though his fae blood allows him to rapidly heal, the sensation of your nails digging into his abdomen is not one he’ll forget anytime soon.

As he looks away from your face to take you all in, now that you’re not struggling to escape, his gaze catches on your cloak. His eyes light up, tracing over the exquisitely stitched leaves and plants of various green threads, mixed occasionally with lively bunnies of soft browns. There’s a rabbit still unfinished, just a cute head and perked ears, awaiting its body to bring it to life.

“Did you make this?” Ajax asks, thumb brushing over the embroidery.

“No,” you gasp, heart sinking.

He tastes the lie and grins. “That’s not true now, is it?”

It’s over. Now that he knows you are skilled at sewing, he has all the reasons he needs to bring you into his realm. Despair is a heavy weight, mixed with frustration and anger. Tears well in your eyes and slide down the curves of your face. A few droplets spread into the cut on your left cheek, mixing with the beading blood that stains your skin.

Ajax is enchanted. Has he ever seen a human so beautiful?

He can’t stop himself from leaning in even closer until his nose nearly presses against your ear. There’s a moment where you hear him inhale. Then his tongue swipes up your cheek, lapping up tears and blood. His groan of delight is overlapped by your whimper, the cut on your cheek stinging as fear flows through your veins.

His fingers grip your chin again and he turns your head to the other side. Warmth travels up your cheek as he licks your tears, before pulling away with a satisfied smirk on his lips.

As you gasp for breath, he takes in the sight of more tears streaming down your face, shed in mourning for the loss of your life in the human world. Shudders run through you until your tears slow, giving time for your heart to harden. Slowly, you open your eyes to meet his gaze, yours now blazing with fury and hatred.

Ajax grins, taking in the vision before him. “You’re perfect.”

note ✧ ajax makes you point out your home and he gets to dig through your stuff as you collect a few things to take with you. don't worry, doggo gets to come with and is treated very well (fae like animals more than humans, usually).

this is not quite the type of thing i usually write, but i hope it was still an enjoyable read! i'd love to hear what you think c:

#this was such a great fic to read #urghhh #this could be a whole trilogy and i would be invested in buying every copy to binge it #chef's kiss #mwah!#ack—#childe x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact

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scary-grace · 2 days ago

Note

omg Hana lives au where you’re in her group for a project and keep suggesting studying at her house. You say it’s because she has a library but actually you just think her brother’s cute.

You sent this ask and my brain started clicking, so here is a Hana (and Mon) lives ficlet, ft. a reader who’s lying about her quirk.

“Again?” Hana asks. She heaves a dramatic sigh and flops down over her desk. “We always study at my house.”

“Your house is nicer,” Yue says.

“You have a library and a bunch of pretty windows,” Manami says. “And your backyard is so nice! If the weather’s good we can study outside.”

All of what your friends are saying is true. Hana has the nicest house by far, and the most books you can borrow, but you’re not going to join in the guilt-trip. Hana picks her head up and glances your way. “You’re not going to say anything?”

You can’t. It’ll look suspicious. “I’m fine with wherever,” you say.

“No you’re not,” Yue says, and elbows you. Her elbows are really pointy. “You want to go over to Hana’s too. Say it.”

“Okay, okay,” you say. Maybe not going along with it looks more suspicious than going along with it would. “We have to go over to yours, Hana. Mon loves me, and I promised to go back see him soon.”

“Mon does really like you,” Hana admits. “Better than me. The only person he likes more is Tenko.”

“Is he going to be around?” you ask as casually as possible. “Tenko?”

“Yeah. Why?”

That settles it. You’re going to Hana’s to study if you have to climb over the back fence and study in the grass. “Just figuring out how many snacks to bring. If you’re hosting, I’m bringing food.”

Manami and Yue renew their attack on Hana. “She has a cooking quirk. People pay for her stuff and we get it for free. Come on, Hana —“

Hana heaves an even more dramatic sigh than before, but you can see her smiling slightly. “Fine. My house tomorrow at noon.”

Manami and Yue are grinning, pleased, but you feel a knot of anticipation pulling tight in your chest. You like going to Hana’s, sure, and you love seeing Mon. But you’d rather fail every class between now and graduation than admit to Hana that the reason you always want to study at her place is that you have a crush on her little brother.

You’re not that much older than Tenko is — just a year or so, since you’re a grade ahead in the classes you share with Hana and Yue — and if you told anybody about your crush, the age difference would be the last thing they’d comment on. Tenko can be a little intense, a little earnest, a lot awkward. When you first became friends with Hana, nobody was making him pay for it yet, but then he got to middle school, and you know he got picked on. Hana stood up for him as best she could, and so did you, if someone was mean when you were in earshot. You stood up for him before you had a crush on him. That’s not why you did it.

You’re not sure when you went from the kind of distant fondness you have for your friends’ siblings to this, but it happened, and now you’ll take any chance you get to hang out at Hana’s house. Even if it means you’ll be up all night baking, trying to make the quirk you lied about look real.

You’re at Hana’s house two minutes after noon, with your backpack and two covered trays, one with cupcakes and one with taiyaki. Hana beams. “Sorry I was weird yesterday,” she says as she ushers you inside. “I was worried my dad might try to visit.”

“Oh.” You know Hana’s parents are divorced — messily divorced, and Hana has really mixed feelings about her dad, who lives in a luxury apartment on the other side of town. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s good. I told him he couldn’t visit because I had friends coming over to study, so it all worked out.”

Hana lifts the trays out of your hands while you take off your shoes and goes to set them on the table. As you straighten up, you hear the sound of paws pattering across the floor. “Mon?”

Mon pounces on you, much more spry than his white-flecked muzzle would suggest, and you crouch down to greet him. You don’t have a dog of your own, but you’ve always been a dog person, and Mon’s your favorite by a mile. You tell him so. “Who’s the most handsome man? I missed you so much —“ He bounces up on his hind legs to lick your nose, and you laugh. “I promised I’d come back. You don’t have to give me that many kisses.”

“He wants you to pet him.”

That’s Tenko’s voice, and just like that, you’re nervous. You look up to find him watching you from around the corner, dark-haired and grey-eyed, halfway in the shadows. “You never pet him,” he continues. He got cuter since the last time you saw him. How is that possible? “Why not?”

“Do I have to pet him to love him?” you ask awkwardly. “He likes me anyway.”

“Yeah. A lot. But it’s weird that you don’t pet him.” Tenko scratches lightly at the side of his neck with a gloved hand. “If you’re allergic, you shouldn’t let him lick your face.”

“I’m not allergic.” You nudge Mon away, and thankfully, he defaults to sniffing your backpack, giving you an excuse to look at him instead of Tenko. “I promised I’d bring treats for you next time. Give me a second.”

“He can’t eat treats from the store. They’re bad for him.”

“I made these at home,” you say. “There are two kinds — salmon and quinoa, and carrot and cheese.“

Tenko’s quiet. You glance up at him and see a surprised look on his face. “You made him two kinds of treats?”

“I wasn’t sure what he liked best,” you admit. You take the package out of your backpack, and Mon starts slobbering all over your hands as he tries to get you to open it. “Can I give him one?”

Tenko nods, and you open the plastic bag, selecting a carrot and cheese biscuit. “Sorry I was mean,” he says quietly. “I heard Hana tell you. About our dad —“

“It’s okay,” you say. He’s so earnest about stuff. You can’t remember the last time you heard a boy apologize and really mean it. “Um, should I ask Mon to do a trick or something?”

“If you hold it up and say ‘up’ he’ll stand on his hind legs,” Tenko says, and you laugh. “Don’t make him do it for too long. He’s getting old.”

Tenko’s voice catches a little bit on the last words, and breaks your heart a little bit more. “Can he roll over?”

“Yeah. Mon, roll,” Tenko orders, and Mon flops down and log-rolls twice. “Good boy. Now he can have a treat.”

You feed Mon the carrot and cheese biscuit, which he snaps up in two bites. He must like it, because he immediately comes hunting for more. Tenko fishes around in the bag and comes up with one of the salmon biscuits, which he gives to Mon without asking for a trick first. He pets Mon with gloved hands and Mon immediately pops up, licking his cheek and snuffling his ears. Tenko laughs, a quiet, rusty sound that makes your cheeks heat up. “Don’t be dumb. There aren’t any treats in there. She has the treats.”

Watching the two of them interact, you’re amazed that more of Hana’s friends don’t have crushes on Tenko. There’s something sweet about him, something that renders any weirdness or awkwardness or itchiness irrelevant. You know he’s smart, and you think he’s cute, and the fact that he’s a year younger than you and your friend’s brother shouldn’t matter at all.

But it does matter, because when Hana calls your name, you jump out of your skin like you’ve been caught stealing from the cookie jar. “Where did you go?” she complains, then rounds the corner. “You don’t have to win Mon’s heart with treats. He already likes you second-best out of everybody.”

“He does,” Tenko agrees. He glances sideways at you, somehow managing to look up at you through his eyelashes even though you’re both the same height crouching down. “I can tell.”

You try not to blush and mostly fail, because it’s not Mon’s heart you’re trying to win. And even though you know you shouldn’t, even though you know it’s a bad idea, you reach out to pet Mon’s ears, stealing a little bit of life from yourself and passing it along to him.

#asks #man door hand hook car door #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #Tomura Shigaraki x reader #Tomura Shigaraki x you #Shigaraki x reader #Shigaraki x you #Shimura Tenko x reader #Shimura Tenko x you #Tenko Shimura x reader #Tenko Shimura x you #x reader #reader insert #ficlet

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piastri-fvx · 2 days ago

Text

Walking in the wind. Arthur Leclerc.

Pairing: Arthur Leclerc x girlfriend!reader

Genre: angst

Type: smau, irl

Summary: When Arthur's girlfriend follows her dream and goes to college in New York, making Arthur and her have to deal with the distance.

Word Count: 1.285+

Face claim: Sabrina Carpenter & girls from pinterest, as usual, lmao :)

Disclaimer/s: not really any, just angst and i guess seperation anxiety/the fear of growing apart (?) also wanted to mention that my french is not perfect, so please don't come at me if i make any mistakes <333

A/N: wooooo, kinda trying something new with this, hope u enjoy!! <333

------------------------------------------------------

@arthur_leclerc

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, yourusername, charlotte2304, lorenzotl and 481.847 others

arthur_leclerc pour toujours ma fille ❤️

[translation: forever my girl]

tagged: @yourusername

| view all comments...

yourusername je t'aime!! ❤️ liked by creator [translation: i love you]

-> arthur_leclerc je t'aime, y/n/n ❤️

-> user1 yall, this kinda looks like a breakup...

-> user2 yeahhh, like... WHAT IS HAPPENING??

-> user3 y/n's going to New York for college 😭

-> user4 oh noooo, it's a goodbye post 😣

user5 face card is eating 😍

landonorris who's this DIVA? 🤭 liked by creator

-> user6 FRRRR, she is literally stunning

-> user7 i hope arthur can fight 😣

charles_leclerc ❤️ liked by creator

-> user8 the whole leclerc family is here 😭

alexandrasaintmleux we'll all miss you so so much, y/n!! i love you 💕 liked by creator

-> yourusername i love you, love of my life

-> arthur_leclerc i thought I was the love of your life??

-> user9 period.

-> yourusername @arthur_leclerc you're a solid second place 🥰

-> arthur_leclerc why, ouch. i thought we had something special

-> yourusername jk jk, you'll always be my number one ❤️🙄 liked by creator

-> user10 as she should, lmao

user11 i love how y/n's basically a part of the leclerc family 😭🙏

-> user12 arthur and her are basically married atp 🤭

-> user13 real

-> user14 the cutest family

charlotte2304 wishing you all the best, y/n 💕 liked by creator

-> user15 OMG HI CHARLOTTE

-> user16 frrrr

user17 i'll misss the y/n & arthur content so much

user18 you're the loss of my life 😣💔

-> user19 😭😭😭

Arthur and you stand in the airport opposite of each other, tears glistening in both of your, but also his eyes. You both know.

You didn't want to believe it, but you knew that due to his busy schedule and you being in New York, you wouldn't be seeing each ither for a long time.

"So..." he finally speaks up, his voice gentle and unsteady. He doesn't meet your eyes, instead directing his gaze to the airport floor. "I guess this is goodbye?" He then questions, his voice barely over a whisper, afraid of the answer.

You almost immediately shake your head, protesting, "Don't say that. It's not goodbye. It's just a... see you later."

He opens his mouth to speak but you gently shush him, instead adding, "It's just for two years. After that, I'll be back here in Monaco with you. In our apartment, as if i was never away," a tear rolls down your cheek but you smile, knowing that you have to be strong now.

He slowly nods, his eyes flickering to the terminal that shows the flight times and then to your luggage that is standing next to you.

He tries to smile at your words, knowing that you'll wait for each other, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes, seeming rather sad. His voice is barely over a whisper when he speaks up again. "You'll miss your flight.."

Your try to hum, your heart breaking into a million pieces at the sight of Arthur, the person you love the most, in tears, his eyes sad and his whole deameanor seemingly down.

Despite the amount of noise at the rather busy airport, the world around the two of you seems to fade, leaving only him and you, both with heavy hearts.

He knew you had to leave, you both did.

He takes a deep breath, taking a step forward and tightly wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a tight, kind of desperate embrace.

You simply stayed like that for a moment, his face staying buried in the crook of your neck as he gently rubs your back, trying to comfort you.

He pulls back just enough to cradle your face in his hands, his palms warm against your skin.

"Don't forget me, yeah?" He speaks up, a small smile tugging at his lips, an attempt to cheer you up. "And you better come back to me as soon as you're done with your studies."

"I will," you speak up, a small, soft giggle leaving your lips ad you finally meet his eyes. "I wouldn't dare of forgetting you. I'll text you every day. And we'll call each other."

"Promise?" He asks, a soft smile appearing on his lips as he gently held your chin in his hand, his thumb gently stroking your skin.

"Pinky promise." You grin, holding up your pink finger as he mirrors your action, locking his pinky with yours.

A sense of relief washed over him at your promise, his shoulders visibly less tense now, the firm yet soft expression on his face softening even more. "Bien.."

[translation: good]

He slowly leans down, his lips meeting yours in a soft, tender kiss.

The kiss was so bittersweet; the feeling of his soft lips on yours so familiar, despite this being the last time you two would have a moment like this for a while.

Arthur was kissing you like he was afraid that the moment his lips left yours, you would dissapear. He was holding you tight against his chest, as if afraid that he would never touch you again.

The kiss wasn't hurried at all. It was slow, chaste, tender and gentle. It was a goodbye kiss, a "i'll miss you" kiss, a "please don't forget about me" kiss.

The moment your lips eventually parted, Arthur rested his forehead against yours, his eyes remaining closed, as if he wasn't quite ready to look at you yet.

You just wanted to stay in this moment as long as possible.

He let out a sigh, reluctantly opening his eyes to meet, taking a step back, his hands now holding yours.

"I really gotta go now," you quietly spoke, knowing there was no way around this.

He nods, finally letting go of your hands and looking at you one more time. "Be safe. I'll wait for you." He said, his voice soft, yet sure.

With that, you smile, turning around and finally dissapearing into the criwd to go board your flight.

Arthur stays where he is, waiting until he can't see you anymore.

@yourusername

liked by arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, charlotte2304, lorenzotl, landonorris and 1.947.027 others

yourusername happy anniversary to the love of my life ❤️

tagged: @arthur_leclerc

| view all comments...

arthur_leclerc happy anniversary, l'amour de ma vie ❤️ liked by creator

[translation: the love of my life]

-> user1 they're so 😍😍😍

landonorris wowwwww, keep it PG13, please liked by creator

-> yourusername shush, you're single 🥰

-> user2 i love how lando and y/n act like siblings when they're together

-> user3 she ate him up 💀

-> user4 @yourusername preach, girly

user5 y/n in her aesthetic era 😍

user6 favorite wag 💕

-> yourusername my favorite wag is ollie 😝

-> olliebearman no.

-> yourusername YES.

-> olliebearman i am NOT a wag.

-> yourusername yes you are. you have kimi 😌

-> olliebearman he has a girlfriend???

-> yourusername i know, she's stunning 😍

-> babickovaeli tyyyy!! you're literally drop dead gorgeous 🫶🫶🫶 liked by creator

-> yourusername AHHHHH OMG HIIII

-> babickovaeli heyyyy!!!! liked by creator

-> user7 damn 💀

user8 ollie and y/n bickering like children is so funny to me 😭

alexandrasaintmleux so happy for you both 💕 liked by creator

-> yourusername how's my baby???

-> arthur_leclerc me?

-> yourusername no, silly 😌🙄 i'm talking about Leo.

-> charles_leclerc leo's good!! he misses his aunt though liked by creator

-> user9 poor arthur 😭

-> user10 i don't even blame her, leo's adorable

user11 "thank you for the couple content, y/n" we all chant in unison

------------------------------------------------------

A/N: actually had no motivation for a moment because i had already written half of this and tumblr deleted it, but yeahhh... 🥰 hope u enjoyed!! reblogs, likes and follows are greatly appreciated <333

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #social media au #angst #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc x y/n #arthur leclerc x female reader #arthur leclerc x fem!reader #f1 smau #f1 angst #f1 fanfic #arthur leclerc fanfic #arthur leclerc fic #arthur leclerc angst #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc blurb #arthur leclerc oneshot

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4ranghaes · 2 days ago

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Can you continiue your woonhak scenario from your bnd when they’re jealous?? Like what would it be like in the dorms and what would rest of the boys say??

kim woonhak x reader [fluff, fem!reader, reader’s a high school student]

a/n - yes!!! omg this is such a cute idea thank you anonie :))) i do have a fic pretty similar to this but i’ve tried to change it up a bit

part 1

17:52 - “guys! we’re home!” jaehyun yelled into the dorm, woonhak’s arm still linked with yours behind the pair in front of you.

sungho rolled his eyes, “yeah, idiot, we can hear the do—”

“and woonagi’s girlfriend is here!” he finished, the three men in the living room all staring at each other in shock, leaning to get a look at the front door.

riwoo and jaehyun had taken off their shoes, smiling evilly at the members further in the dorm. you stayed in the entrance way, giving an apologetic smile to woonhak.

“i’m sorry for anything they say, or do—” he started, grabbing your arm before you could walk away.

you smiled, cupping his face, “it’s fine, woonie! really, i don’t mind. i’m excited to meet them.”

he rolled his eyes, grumbling as he let you go, “i’m not.”

“hi,” you said shyly, introducing yourself to the members politely, woonhak appearing behind you and placing a protective hand on your back. your school uniform still covered your body, your bag slung over one shoulder.

“nice to meet you, nice to meet you, come on, we’re going to my room,” woonhak said, hurriedly as he took your bag, pulling you along.

“wait a minute!” leehan exclaimed, “do we not get to introduce ourselves?”

“no,” riwoo said, shaking his head definitely, “woonhak made that very clear.”

you giggled slightly, looking apologetically at woonhak, who pouted.

“no, g–go ahead,” he sighed, waving a hand dismissively.

“what? what?!” sungho laughed, “tell us!”

“because this is my girlfriend!” jaehyun yelled, impersonating woonhak’s whining from the walk home, bursting out into laughter afterwards as your boyfriend sighed next to you.

“he said that?!” taesan laughed, “ya! woonhak-ah, don’t worry, we won’t try and steal your girl!”

“he hasn’t even let her come to the dorms!” riwoo said quickly, looking at woonhak’s pissed off expression.

“yeah! i didn’t! and she is my girlfriend! and you two said that if i brought her here i could have all the time in the world!” he exclaimed in the classic woonagi whining voice, wrapping an arm around your body and bringing you close, “she knows all your names, she’s a big fan! and you know her name, boom, done! now we’re going into my room!”

he grabbed your wrist, storming off to his bedroom and dragging you with him as you waved goodbye to the members quickly.

“ya! door open at least 3 inches!” sungho exclaimed, woonhak grumbling in return, slamming the door to prove a point.

“ya,” you laughed, running a hand through your boyfriend’s hair as he sat on the bed, standing in between his legs, “they’re winding you up on purpose, you know that right?”

he pouted, rolling his eyes, “i know.” his hands were wrapped loosely around your legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he shrugged, trying to remain cool. “i just don’t like them teasing me, especially about you.”

you smiled, leaning down and kissing the top of his head as he grinned, leaning his head up and encouraging you to lean back down and press a kiss to his lips.

“ya! kim woonhak!” taesan yelled, stood in the doorway.

“hyung!” woonhak whined, throwing a pillow at the door, taesan deflecting the hit. “get out!”

“i just wanted to say we’re making dinner for 7,” he said, an evil grin on his face as he closed the door slowly, “woonhak was making out with his girlfriend!”

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peachhcs · 2 days ago

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(Lmk if this is too cringy or we’re too much of a cliché or this is just straight up embarrassing IDK I’m on my period and I have a lot of emotions ) maybe a lil blurb on samy on her period being in like an all boys house and will getting her chocolate and being her heating pad

omg anon nooooo it’s not cliche at all (i love cliche) and i feel like this is so cutie and so mundane and things will just does for samy without her asking

au masterlist

it wasn’t hard to tell that the youngest hughes had been in a bad mood since she woke up. she trudged down the stairs bleary eyed and tired from having tossing and turning all night. she felt bad for probably keeping will awake with her shuffling because he wasn’t in the bed when she woke up that morning.

to make it worse, samy realized she started her period today which just was the cherry on top of one of the boys eating the last of her granola bars and then realizing she was almost out of tampons. so far, it just wasn’t shaping up to be a good morning for the girl.

while her brothers helped their dad with work around the house, samy laid inside on the couch overcome with cramps. the first day of her period was always the worst because of her cramps, back pain, moodiness, and irritation all mixed into one. she didn’t even know where will was. she hadn’t seen him once this morning and that made her sad because she loved waking up next to her boyfriend during the summer and now he was no where to be seen.

unbeknownst to samy though, will had gotten up early that morning because 1. he needed to run errands because he was out of almost all of his go-to snacks and 2. he went out to buy some of the little chocolate hearts he knew samy loved whenever she was on her period. the blonde always knew when her period was coming because she happened to toss and turn every night it came and will could tell by her slight snappiness the last two days that it was probably coming soon because the brunette always got a bit more snappy with people a few days before her period.

he wanted to surprise her, so when he came back into the somewhat empty house he found her laying on the couch watching tv. will carefully tapped her shoulder and samy’s gaze snapped up.

“hi, where’ve you been?” she wondered.

“i was getting more snacks for myself, but i got these for you,” he showed the bag of chocolates hidden behind his back. samy sat up, eyes widening as she eyed the candy.

“willlll, you didn’t,” she smiled widely.

“you got your period this morning, didn’t you?” he wondered and she raised her eyebrow.

“how’d you know?”

“because i just know you. you always toss and turn the night before your period,” the blonde kissed the top of her head and maybe it was her heightened emotions because of her period, but the brunette started getting teary that her boyfriend just knew her so well he got her chocolate without even having to ask.

“will, you’re so sweet. god, i don’t deserve you. sorry if i kept you up last night,” samy mumbled, trying to suppress her tears while the blonde just chuckled.

“you didn’t, but you’re welcome. i love you. i’ll come lay with you in a second, okay?” he said and the girl nodded. will went back to the kitchen to put away his snacks and also restock samy’s granola bars that he happened to notice were gone before he left.

when he came back samy had dug into the chocolates and made grabby hands at him to come lay with her. the boy smiled softly, spreading out across the couch so his entire body was on her legs and his head rested on her stomach. this was how samy liked it whenever she was on her period because will was always so warm, he was her heating pad and she didn’t need an actual one. she ran her hands through his curls and the blonde hummed at the feeling of her gentle fingers massaging his roots.

“want one?” samy wondered and held out one of the chocolates. will happily let her feed it to him and they stayed like that almost the whole day.

the youngest hughes’ mood improved significantly as the day went on and maybe having will by her side made dealing with her period just that much better.

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tension4mari · 2 days ago

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hey this is random but would you write for woo-seok (the loan shark guy in squid game 2) I know he’s a bit of a random character but if you are willing to do something fluffy with him that would be so cute. Thanks :)

You ask? You receive!

ִֶָ࣪☾.`Paring- Woo-Seok x Fem!Reader

ִֶָ࣪☾.Summary- Woo-Seok comes home from a long day at work and sees you paying around in his clothes, but this wasn't the only time he did catch you. Deciding to teach you a lesson he decides to put on your clothes for a change.

ִֶָ࣪☾.You were peacefully in you and your husband room, bored out of your mind you decided to mess with your husbands' clothes like you have before.

ִֶָ࣪☾.You threw on his favorite pair of denim jeans with one of his many randoms shirts. Whiles you sitting around in his clothes you decided to make a snack , Walking down the stairs you hear the front door knob started to shake

ִֶָ࣪☾."What the hell" you mutter as you see the front door open, revealing your husband. He stares at you and your shocked expression before having his eyes travel down your body.

ִֶָ࣪☾."Seriously 'y/n'?" he says looking at your face seeing you break down from laughter "O-oh my... Omg, babe you should totally see your fucking face right now" you say looking at his with teary eyes from all the laughing "Haha so funny" he says putting his work bookbag down and taking off his shoes going into the living room.

ִֶָ࣪☾."What? you don't like my outfit? took me forever to put together! " You reply walking into the living room sitting down beside him on the sofa

ִֶָ࣪☾. Getting comfortable beside your husband you speak again, "Well? do I look good?" staring at him already knowing what his reply was going to be. "Yes. You look stunning like always" and he meant every single word when he said that. He can't help it when his heart flutter every time he sees you wearing his clothes... You look amazing in them every time!

ִֶָ࣪☾."ahh! I thought so." you smile now looking at him with your pretty eyes. "Yea yea whatever, go take my clothes off" you laughed once again smiling while getting up.

ִֶָ࣪☾."Wait, 'y/n'. you turn around "Are those my favorite jeans" you shake your head side from side while hiding in a laugh "Ik you're lying 'y/n.' he says with a deadpanned expression "Ok!.. ok you've caught me.." you turn back around changing out of his clothes

ִֶָ࣪☾. "Tch, ill teach her..." he whispers before getting up leaving to the kitchen

Getting up for work you kiss your husband goodbye before leaving for an awfully long day, and your only thought was coming home to your husband with dinner already done..

Clearly that wasn't the case when you walked in your house to see your husband on the couch in one of your one of your crop tops and black leather skirts.

ִֶָ࣪☾."HEY! What the hell do you have on!??" you say in disbelief dropping your stuff at the door and walking into the living. "Hm??, 'y/n'.. You're back from work early" he says smirking looking at you "Early or not you have on my damn clothes! oh gosh, you properly already stretch them!" you say thinking about how much that skirt costed...

ִֶָ࣪☾."Ah!" "You don't think I look nice?" He say's getting up, all you coud do is stare at him like he's crazy. "You know what.. Yeah! you look fantastic.." you stare at him smiling hard, turning around to pick up your work bag "What are you doing 'y/n'?" "hm? oh.. Nothing" you say with your back still turned to him

ִֶָ࣪☾."Finally found what I was looking for" you say, he try's to peak over your shoulder to see what you were doing. "What do you have 'y/n'?" he asks

ִֶָ࣪☾.You turned around with your phone out recording. "HEY? WHAT THE HELL!" he yells grabbing pillows throwing them at you "NO, YOU WHAT THE HELL YOU HAVE ON MY CLOTHES!!" 'Give me a break! you just had on my clothes yesterday." he says covering himself with the pillows

ִֶָ࣪☾. "Thats so different!" you say throwing your phone and yourself on the couch, your husband makes his way over to you "Agh ok, if it makes you feel better ill buy you a new skirt." he say sitting down beside you rubbing your lower back

ִֶָ࣪☾."Aw you'll do that for me?" you say looking up at him "Well of course I'm you your husband!" he says looking at you stupidly "Yeah... don't make me remember." you mumble under your breath "I can hear you y'know." he says "Yeah, good now go take off those clothes... you're giving me an eye sore." you mumbling say rubbing in between your eyebrows.

ִֶָ࣪☾."Gosh you're so mean" he gets up "I hope you cooked dinner because I'm starving" you look at him "well of course, anything for my wife!" "Yeah good." you throw yourself back onto the couch.

Lmk very anonymous person.. Did you like this! 😓🤔

Im proud of actually finishing this... Wth?!!

#squid game x reader #squid game #tumblr fyp #loan sharks #woo seok

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chaotic-orphan · 2 days ago

Text

Whumpuary No. 4

What are your favourite whump tropes?

My favourite whump tropes are, in no particular order, and with examples:

LADY. WHUMP. Lady whump. Lady whump. Female whumpees being beaten, bruised and bloody, kicked until they crumble and when Whumper turns, thinking she’s beaten, she raises her head and says: “is that all you got? And I thought you were meant to be scary?” *spits blood* heheheheh FEMALE WHUMPEES GETTING THE SHIT BEAT OUTTA THEM LETS GOOOOOOO

TERRIFYING WHUMPERS!!!! Like makes YOUR (the readers) BLOOD GO COLD KINDA FEAR — where you don’t want to breathe in case the Whumper hurts your fave whumpee more (every @/whumblr villain ever btw)

Polite whumpers who are arseholes and sadists.

Proud, royal, high class whumpees made to beg publicly, yum yum yum, humiliation whump!!!!

WAIT NVM, DEFIANT WHUMPEES ARE MY ALL TIME FAVOURITE WHUMP TROPE!!!! To all my babies who don’t know how to shut up, I too, am dumb like you amen.

Strong whumpers who can physically overwhelm whumpee… but pay someone else to do it, inject that into my veins pleassseee

Found family — ah my beloved, this trope has followed me from my golden years, the beloved fandom days of past… how beautiful and heart wrenching a trope (10/10) [A benignant mischief, my boyyyysss😩]

Fucked up families — OH EVEN BETTER MY FAVE UPON A FAVE!!!! I love fucked up found family, god damn, it has all the whump of found family, WITH EXTRA WHUMP OF FUCKED UP/FORCED FAMILY I GO FERAL FOR IT *CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP* [Intoxicating fear, Partners in Crime, Immortal Hunter]

Love a good kidnapping — just that, a good, captured whumpee in a cell, bleeding or bloody or both and forced to face the consequences of their actions 😌

Forced to kneel

Forced to comply with whumper’s commands (when a loved one is threatened) ((extra points for a team))

TEAM WHUMP OMG!!!! With a stoic leader and a soft whumpee like a cinnamon roll that Whumper tears apart in front of everyone

VAMPIRE WHUMP!!!! SAY IT WITH ME, VAMPIRE WHUMP!!!! Vampire whumpers, vampire whumpees, vampire caretakers, vampire hunter whumpers, vampire hunter whumpees, HUMANS USED AS BLOODBAGS, UNDERGROUND GANGLAND VAMPIRES AAAAAAAAGGGGHHH——

Love a good knife/carving/branding moment, I love when whumper’s name is carved into whumpee’s skin and left to scar so it stays on their body permanently

SUICIDAL HEROES!!!!! SUICIDAL WHUMPEES, I just want to give them a billion hugs and tell them it’ll be okay, I have a soft spot for them

Uncaring caretakers!!!! Caretakers who are there because actual caretaker paid them to rescue whumpee, who is just there for the job that is getting Whumpee back to Caretaker and not for any love/help/comfort, which of course MUST happen and they warm up to Whumpee despite their hard heart awwww

Uhhhhhh i think, NOPE, psychotic whumpers are my babes, no further questions…

There are more but I can’t really think anymore😇😅

#whumpuary2025 #Whumpuaryno4 #Whumpuary #favourite tropes #favourite whump tropes #whump #whump tropes #whump thoughts

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zepskies · 7 hours ago

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Aww yay!! I'm so happy to hear that. 🥹💗

so far what I love the most about this series-verse is how, authentic and genuine dean and mila’s relationship is <3 I think maybe I mentioned it when reviewing THC but truly their love feels so sincere 🤍🤍

Omg thank you!! What an amazing compliment, and now I'm blushing. 🥰🥰 With everything these two went through in THC, I wanted their connection to feel real and natural now as they continue learning each other.

I feel like in today’s day & age relationships can be so complicated because there are too many trivial outside factors, but for them in this universe, it’s really just as simple as two people who care a lot for each other making it work. and i absolutely love that 😭💗

Oh God yes, totally agree. 🙃 And there are complications around Mila and Dean, but when it's just the two of them, Dean gets her to remember that them choosing to be together can be as simple or complicated as they allow it to be. It's a choice, day by day, working together. 💕💕

they’re so sweet to each other :’)🫶🏽 even when he puts his foot in his mouth; as soon as he made that comment when learning about the chief I shook my head lol, oh dean 😂

Ahaha he's trying his best. Oh Dean. 😝

But he's so damn charming and adorable, she can't help but let him back into her good graces.

mystery dude better back up!🤺 I do not trust that man at all so far, he gave me such a bad vibe :/ for his sake he better not try anything because not only will dean protect his wife, mila is clearly not to be messed with 🤣 which brings me back to how much I admire her strength! I love that she will speak up for what matters.

He's being sneaky about it, isn't he? 😒 But YES, if Mila doesn't mess him up first, Dean definitely will. 💞 Mila's not one to take things sitting down either.

the thought of dean getting picked on makes me so sad because it’s like, classic bullying :((( I wanna hug him so bad. especially since it’s already been so hard leaving everything and everyone he had behind — the weight of hazing & hard judgement on top of adjusting to everything new must be draining :( honestly I admire his strength too i’m glad she’s providing him with the support he deserves 🫶🏽 because yeah even though he can handle it, he shouldn’t have to ✋🏽😔

Ikr? 😭😭 Dean doesn't deserve this at all, considering how hard he's working to be respectful to their customs, but it's kind of par for the course (he's honestly lucky they let him live). It will get better for him (eventually), but you're right, it is draining for him, even if he doesn't want to admit it to Mila. She's doing her best to be his support system. 💞

also, I did not expect baby x mato but you know what, i’m here for it 😭🙂‍↕️

omgg I was hoping someone would like that part. 😂😂 I honestly didn't plan it when I was writing THC, but it came out when I started developing Outlander. I thought it was a cute lil' tidbit, and it's actually going to play more into the plot later. 😉💗

I'm so excited for you guys to see what's coming for this little series!!

Outlander - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC

Summary: Dean Winchester has been stripped of his military rank, but he’s living happier with his new wife, trying to adjust to a new life in her tribe. What will it take for her people to accept him, especially when the battle for her heart might not be completely won?

AN: Ready for some more Cowboy Dean? Here we go with Outlander Part 1! This is a sequel story directly following The Honorable Choice, where Dean not only saves the member of a Native American tribe, but falls in love with her. (She saves him a lot in return.) Now, he’ll have to learn how to live in her world if he wants to stay with her.

This sequel series will be 4 parts! 💜

Disclaimer: I first got inspired to write The Honorable Choice for @jacklesversebingo after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (with a tinge of Yellowstone in the mix). I’ve done a fair bit of research for this now ongoing series, both on the Native American Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s; AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Word Count: 5.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Suggestiveness/implied smut and spice, hunting (in the more traditional sense), angst, hurt/comfort, and romantic fluff. **Pronunciation guide at the end!

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: Two Worlds

Her people call this river Little Cheyenne. It’s because Big Cheyenne cuts through the land of the Sioux Indians by half, but Little Cheyenne almost meets it in the south, stretching all the way up to the Black Hills.

Mila’s tribe has always lived near this river. Its waters have bled red during battles with other tribes, and sometimes during battles with White Men.

The White Men’s fort, the one her husband came from, lies farther down in the south. The tribe had to move their village higher north along the river after Mila returned with Dean Winchester, just to be safe.

On a cloudy afternoon, Mila scrubs at a bundle of dirty clothes until they’re clean. She rinses them off in the river and is thorough about her work, but she knows she can’t be here much longer. She has a stew simmering on hot coals in her tipi…

Well, the one she now shares with her husband.

Unconsciously, she smiles. She remembers leading Dean through the tribe, to the place where she hoped he would find rest. They stopped at the foot of her tipi.

“This one’s yours?” he asked.

She paused, giving him another small smile.

“Ours.”

Mila continues scrubbing, though she frowns when her fingers slip through a tear in one of the new tunics she made for him (even though he keeps calling it a shirt). The tear was made by a blade, or maybe an arrowhead, she realizes.

The crunch of feet on the riverbed’s gravel makes her raise her head and look over her shoulder. Unease prickles down her spine. She braces herself for a familiar shadow, come to disturb her peace.

But then she relaxes. She’s being joined by two of the older women in her tribe. Mila has known them her whole life, and so she calls them tunwin. Aunt. They both greet her kindly and kneel beside her with their own bundles of clothes for washing, but Eyota, the older one, has a sharper eye. She is their tribe’s medicine woman.

“Your husband wears out his clothes,” she remarks.

“He’s been working hard training with Šóta and the other men,” Mila explains.

“He seems to be learning quickly,” says Misae. She has a more playful glint in her eyes. “Who knew that you could catch and tame a White Man. Looks like they are no different from wild horses.”

Mila smiles slightly, but it’s not genuine. She nods in agreement. “He’s learning quickly.”

She holds her tongue from saying anything else, even though she wants to. Dean isn’t a man to be tamed, any more than she was, in his people’s eyes. She aims to change the subject.

“Do you have any good herbs or spices for wahonpi? I’ve had the stew simmering all morning,” she asks Eyota. Not only is she a gifted healer, but Eyota is also one of the best cooks, and she knows it. She nods and straightens her shoulders the way she always does when someone asks her for advice—and even when they don’t ask for it.

“Of course, child. What you need is…”

“Goddamn it,” Dean huffs under his breath.

The jackrabbit flees from him again, or more accurately, from his terribly aimed arrow. He’s an excellent marksman…just not with a bow, it seems.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong here, and he’s not likely to figure it out. Not by the way Takoda, Šóta, and the other men are laughing at him.

Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes. He knows when he’s being hazed.

These men are bare-chested warriors, each of them richly tanned under the sun. Most of them wear their hair long, half of it gathered high on their heads, or braided in some way. Šóta is his wife’s cousin, and as the Chief’s son, he wears a small adornment of eagle feathers threaded into his hair. His closest friends are Takoda and Otaktay. Both of them laugh at Dean the most, and in their language, using just enough gestures and body language that Dean knows he’s being talked about. They point at his boots and his brown Stetson hat—two of the only things he’s kept of his own that make him feel comfortable in his own skin.

Finally, Šóta goes over to him. “Good try,” he says, in his usual patronizing tone.

Dean knows he can’t punch out Mila’s cousin, no matter how bad he’s asking for it. Somehow, Dean manages to hold onto his temper.

“What’re they saying?” he asks lowly, gesturing at the two chuckle brothers.

Šóta’s lips twitch. He glances down at Dean’s feet. “They say your…shoes are loud on the earth. You give yourself away before the animal even catches your scent.”

Dean’s given up a lot of things, but his boots won’t be one of them. He wants to learn. He wants to belong here, in Mila’s world, but he also wants to stay himself.

So the men move on, mounting their horses. Dean rides with Baby at a plodding clip. Her black coat ripples with a healthy sheen. He thinks she’s come to enjoy the more natural surroundings and freer pasture of the grasslands, and he can’t deny, this part of it all feels right. The sun peeks through between the dappled leaves of oak trees, painting the ground in red, green, and gold. It’s quiet and beautiful here as Šóta leads the pack through the forest, just southwest of the village.

Eventually, he stops them between a denser thatch of trees and shrub. He raises a hand signal that Dean’s come to recognize. He raises his bow belatedly after the others though. He follows Šóta’s line of vision, and there is a deer grazing in a small clearing. A young buck.

Šóta signals at Dean. Try again, his eyes say.

Dean takes in a deep, quiet breath through his nose, and he takes aim.

He really misses his damn rifle.

Dean shoulders the sting of failure while he makes his way through the camp, leading Baby by the reigns. He drops her off at the large horse pen. There he feeds her and brushes her long coat, all while murmuring soft affectionate things. She’s still one of his only friends here.

But even she leaves him short to join her new friend, Mato. The two have become thick as thieves. Mato greets the black mare with a friendly whinny. Their noses touch in affection, and Mato playfully nips at her ear.

Dean raises his brows. “Well, that’s a little more friendly than usual. You guys start courting when I wasn’t looking?”

He walks over to Mato, who’s softened up to him in recent weeks.

“You sly dog,” Dean remarks, smirking. “Didn’t even ask me for her hand.”

Mato blows a hot breath through his nose at Dean, who has to blink, wiping his face.

“Now that’s just rude.” Still, he offers the mustang an apple from his pocket. Mato takes it from his palm, letting Dean rub his neck while he munches on his snack. “As fathers-in-law go, you lucked out, pal. See? I’m a delight.”

He wouldn’t be surprised if Baby had her first foal by spring. Dean grins at the thought, but it soon falls. If only his father-in-law were so easy to please.

His mind dwells on it as he starts making his way back to the heart of the village. Chatan, Mila’s father, hasn’t warmed up to him any better than Šóta or the other men. Tahatan is the only one of them who treats Dean civilly, and overall, he seems to be a good leader.

Dean has that thought, just when he sees the older man himself walking with a woman Dean sort of recognizes. She wears a long necklace made of blue beads and seashells. Tahatan goes into her tipi, even though Dean knows…that woman isn’t the Chief’s wife.

Dean raises his brows, but he subtly pivots on his heel and takes a different route back to his own tipi. Whatever he just saw, it’s definitely not his business.

“Honey, I’m home,” he teases.

She welcomes him into her arms, her hands traveling warmly up his shoulders. He bends to kiss her, soft and slow at first. And then deeper, sucking on her lower lip and teasing her with a sensuous tongue. She hums in surprise into his mouth, making him smile.

He’s exhausted and feeling low, but he doesn’t want to let on to her. He just wants to forget about his day, and hopefully recharge with a better night.

“How did it go today?” she asks, after he allows her to breathe.

Dean nods (and lies). “Pretty good.”

She waits for him to continue. When he just continues to hold her, she raises her brows up at him.

“Dean?”

“What? I’m workin’ on archery. Lots of progress.”

She eyes him in suspicion, and he knows he doesn’t have her fooled. Actually, she looks like she’s going to press him about it, so he releases her from his hold and goes to change out of his dirty clothes to avoid her gaze.

“Hey, uh, maybe it’s none of my business, but I saw the Chief go into some other woman’s tent today. Holding hands, bedroom eyes, the whole deal,” he says while he changes. He glances back at her and waggles his brows. Mila smiles slightly.

“Did she wear her hair in a half-braid, or did she wear a necklace made of seashells?” she asks.

Dean’s surprised that she doesn’t seem surprised, but he thinks back to what he saw.

“Uh, seashells. Yeah, she wore seashells,” he says.

Mila nods. “Yes, that woman is also his…the chiefs of my people are known to take more than one wife.”

At that, Dean becomes even more surprised. He finishes dressing and leaves his boots by the tipi’s entrance. His raised brows even out into a smirk.

“Well, okay. Guess it’s good to be Chief,” he says.

Mila’s lips purse as she eyes him narrowly. She goes back to stirring the stew with a wide, wooden spoon. Dean doesn’t see her reaction, but he does notices that something’s missing from his side of the bedding. He frowns.

“Hey, where’s my gun?” He asks Mila, who shakes her head without looking at him.

“I moved it,” she curtly replies.

Dean’s frown deepens. He touches her arm to get her attention.

“I’d rather you didn’t do that, baby,” he says. He’s made sure that she knows the basics of a gun well enough, but he doesn’t want to take the chance of her hurting herself.

“Don’t leave it out, then,” she snips back. “It shouldn’t go where we sleep.”

Dean tilts his head at her. He’s a bit confused at her tone, especially because they’ve had this conversation before.

“I have it there just in case something happens at night,” he reminds her. His pistol is really just for emergencies though. There are only three bullets left in it, and he can’t exactly go shopping for more.

Dean realizes then that Mila’s mood has shifted. He approaches her from behind.

“What’s wrong, huh?” His hands find familiar purchase along the curve of her waist. He swipes her braid away and presses a kiss where her neck meets her shoulder. More teasingly, he asks, “What’d I do now?”

Mila remains tight-lipped, until she glances at him over her shoulder.

“Do you want another woman?” she asks.

It’s a simple question, but it succeeds in completely tripping him up. He blinks at her, incredulous and bewildered.

“What?”

She continues shredding another herb to put into the stew. Somehow, it makes the broth smell a bit worse.

“You seem to admire the Chief for having three wives, so you must want another one too,” she says.

Holy shit, three wives? Dean wonders. The man must be a saint. Look at the hell I’m catching with one.

He can’t help but laugh, a deep belly chuckle that does nothing to take away Mila’s ire. She glares at him now, genuinely upset, and Dean knows he’s starting to shit the bed on this one. He sobers up and raises his hands in surrender.

“Sweetheart,” he says, in a placating tone.

Despite her annoyance, she allows him to hold her again. He plies her with more tantalizing kisses along her neck. He breathes in the sweet-smelling oil she uses on her hair.

“You’re more than enough woman for me. You know that, right?” he whispers against her skin. It earns her slight shudder, and he smiles. He teases the spot just under her ear, grazing with his teeth, then soothing with his tongue. She can’t help but writhe against him a bit. It stirs a well of desire in his lower belly, especially when he squeezes her hips, pressing himself to her from behind.

She tries to remain strong as she clears her throat, no doubt feeling his growing hardness against her. She starts to blush hotly.

“It’s all I can do just to make sure you stay sweet for me,” Dean says, a hint of teasing returned to his voice.

Mila finally breaks into a laugh. She reaches back to swat him on the head, but his ministrations work. Once she manages to escape from his grasp with a teasing smile of her own, she more happily serves him a bowl of stew.

Dean smirks. Fine, he can be patient. He’ll just have to wait until dessert, then. After a moment to calm himself, he sits down on the ground beside her and brings a large spoonful of stew to his lips. There, he pauses. The strange taste that assaults his tongue nearly makes him choke, but he does his best to swallow it down. The meat’s tough as nails, for Christ’s sake…

Hearing a spoon clatter against the bowl, he chances glancing at Mila. She sits stock still, her brows furrowed as she frowns. Slowly, she sets the bowl down and says,

“Stop eating.”

She looks angry at herself. Dean feels bad for her, his sympathy striking at his chest.

“What do you mean? I’m hungry,” he says, and gamely takes another couple of bites.

She just watches him. Her upset worsens while he tries and fails to cover up a hacking cough.

Finally, Mila can stand no more. She takes the bowl from him, making some of the foul broth slosh over their hands and onto the ground. She tried to make wahonpi, one of the most basic soups in her people’s culture, made from bison, potatoes, corn, and carrots stewed in the broth.

Eyota told me it was simple! she thinks in dismay. How did it go so wrong?

“It’s no good,” she says, her voice hard. “I will go to my mother and see what she cooked. She may have extra for us.”

She rises to her feet, and Dean quickly follows her. He catches sight of her tears, even though she turns her face away from him to grab her shoes. He reaches out and stops her with a hand on her arm. He tugs her back to face him.

“Hey, it’s okay. Why’re you getting so upset?” he says. “I’m not picky. I’ll eat whatever you make.”

Or maybe next time, I’ll try doing the cooking, he thinks.

“Because!” she blurts. Tears well up in her eyes and begin to slip down her cheeks, no matter how much she tries to brush them away. “Because you shouldn’t have to eat it. Because it should be good. You deserve to eat something good!”

Mila finally realizes why her mother tried so hard to teach her these things. She’s embarrassed, feeling sorry for herself, but it’s also far worse than that. Her heart hurts knowing what Dean has gone through, and what he continues to go through for her sake. The least she could do is make sure he eats well, and it seems she can’t even do that.

“Mila,” he says with a sigh. He guides her into his embrace. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

She can’t allow herself to be comforted. She pushes at his chest to look up at him.

“You think I don’t know what happens outside?” she says. “It’s a small village, and people talk when they think I’m not listening. I know what the men are doing to you.”

Dean shakes his head stubbornly. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”

“You should not have to,” she insists, resting a hand over his heart. “You have proven yourself to be a man of honor. Tahatan said it himself. They should not be this way.”

Dean smiles ruefully. “I can handle it.”

He bows his head and captures her lips, plying her with a deeper kiss. The heat of it grows and becomes more than a distraction, more than comfort. It strips everything else away, until it’s just the two of them again, like the night she found him at the riverbank and held him until he woke up in her arms.

What they eat doesn’t matter. Other people don’t matter. All that matters is this.

He squeezes her hips and presses her harder against him, so she can feel every part of his desire. She moans into his mouth, curling her fingers into his shirt. So he guides her down to the bedding, where he shows her what he’d rather get a taste of.

Later that evening, Mila and Dean have dinner with her parents. Her mother, Weaya, is a gracious host, treating Dean both like a guest and a proper son-in-law. She gives him a special cut of braised bison meat, not to mention extra corn and potato hash. Chatan says nothing to him and eats in gruff, stoic silence.

Dean can tell it both hurts and annoys his wife, but he has to focus on answering Weaya’s many questions about his life—mainly about his family and the farm he grew up on. In some ways, raising crops and rearing up cows, chickens, and horses there isn’t so different from the Lakota village.

“You must miss that place. Your home,” she says. Dean meets his mother-in-law’s eyes, pausing in polishing off the meat sauce on his plate with a piece of bread. Chatan looks up from his meal, and so does Mila, who hesitates too. He sees the thread of her concern there, behind her eyes, so Dean hides the stab of sadness that hits him every time he thinks of Lawrence.

“Sometimes,” he admits. He looks over at Mila. “But I’m not alone. That’s what matters.”

She smiles at him softly. Dean has the urge to take her hand, maybe raise it up to his lips, but he’ll leave that for when they’re alone. He doesn’t want to upset her father any more than he has just by sitting in Chatan’s house. Tent…whatever.

He’s glad when, after almost another hour and a round of hot tea, Mila finishes chatting with her mother and stands. It means they can finally get the hell out of here. No disrespect to her parents, but with so much change happening so quickly, Dean had been able to put Lawrence out of his mind for a while. Tonight he thinks about his mom and his brother more than makes him comfortable on their way through the village. He follows Mila inside their tipi, then starts up a candle while she gets ready to rest for the evening.

Living here is like going back in time—before the lantern, before indoor plumbing and the water heater. It’s not a huge hardship for Dean, who’s spent a lot of his life sleeping on hard, dusty ground, or military bases with less than most modern amenities, but it’s still another adjustment.

He undresses down to his pants and settles down to the bedding and furs, waiting for his wife. She kneels beside him after undressing down to just her shift. He lays on his back with an arm tucked behind his head, and he watches her unbind her long, dark hair, undoing the braid from the bottom strands. She has this concentrated look on her face, like her mind is far away, even though she’s right here next to him. He threads his fingers through her loose hair while she works, giving her a smile.

“You okay?” he asks.

Mila pauses. She lets her tresses escape from her fingers and reaches for him, laying her hand on his chest. Dean holds it there and finally allows himself to press a kiss into her palm.

I’m sorry, is what she wants to say, but she knows he’ll only reply, For what?

So she lowers down and slips into his warm embrace, as if this can make them both forget the day. She rests her cheek over his beating heart.

“You will never be alone,” she promises.

Dean quirks a smile. Instead of answering, he brushes her cheek tenderly with his hand, and he closes his eyes. A few deep breaths later, and he finds sleep.

The candle slowly flickers out.

On most nights, Mila falls asleep before Dean, and so his light snores don’t bother her. Tonight, even though she’s tried, she can’t tune out his rumbles. Or maybe it’s her own mind she can’t tune out.

She carefully maneuvers out of his hold and slips on her shoes. Maybe the moon will give her clarity tonight.

She pushes open the front flap of the tent and steps out into the cooler air. She looks up at the moon’s white-blue glow, a wide crescent peeking out from between two large clouds. A strong breeze tugs at her hair and flutters her lashes when she closes her eyes. She crosses her arms when goosebumps spread across her tan skin.

“What troubles you, Kimmímila?”

The voice is steady and male, and all too familiar. Still, the intrusion startles her. Her eyes fly open wide and she jolts, inhaling sharply. She frowns when she realizes it’s him.

“What are you doing? It’s late,” she says.

He steps out from the shadows with his pipe in hand. He smells strongly of tobacco. Her father and uncle smoke as well, but she doesn’t like it herself. She’s glad Dean doesn’t either.

“Easing my mind,” he says, raising his pipe. “I see you’re up to the same thing.”

Mila shakes her head. She returns her attention to the moon. “Go. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Are we not friends, Mila?” he says. “Can’t we talk and share like we used to?”

His voice is disheartened enough that it earns her gaze. She sighs at him.

“I am sorry, but I can’t give you what you want,” she says. “Don’t test me anymore.”

He pauses with his pipe in hand. It drops to his side, and he takes measured steps closer, until he’s looking down at her. Even with the litheness of his form, he’s still taller and broader than her. His long, dark hair is half pulled onto the top of his head, threaded together with a beaded leather string she made for him when they were children. He has used it ever since. The rest of his hair lays loose down his back, brushing his arms.

“If you actually loved him, it wouldn’t be a test,” he teases.

He tries to touch her cheek, but she guides his hand down. She shakes her head and steps away from him.

“This isn’t a game,” she says. “You know I mean what I say.”

His anger and frustration surfaces, with a sharp exhale of breath and the crunch of his dark brows.

“You would choose the Outlander over your own people,” he accuses.

Mila’s gaze is firm as she heads back to her tipi. If he will not be reasonable, then she will make it clear enough to hurt.

“I choose him over you,” she says.

Then, she slips back inside.

The shadow outside remains, just long enough for the moon to become clear past the moving clouds.

In the morning, Mila goes to her uncle, Chief Tahatan. She finds her parents there in his tipi as well, all of them sharing breakfast. Her aunt passes around more bread and wojapi, a sweet mixed berry sauce, while her father is resting a broken ankle. He’s complaining again, even though it happened over a week ago now.

“If you hadn’t let the horse buck you off, you wouldn’t be hurting,” she says sharply now. She’s become annoyed with his griping. “Or better yet, you can finally admit that you’re beyond the years of breaking young stallions.”

Chatan is the Horsemaster of their tribe, and has been since Mila was a little girl, inheriting the position from her great uncle, the former chief’s younger brother. Mila knows, however, that Chatan is getting too old to do the harder work. Many years have meant many battles too, and they’ve taken their toll on his bones.

An idea grows in her mind, and she goes to sit beside her father. She applies the poultice Eyota gives Weaya for him, before rewrapping his ankle.

“Father,” she begins, imploring him gently, “perhaps Dean could help you care for the horses.”

Chatan eyes her with a frown. “Your husband already has his hands filled with training.”

“Šóta and Takoda can’t do it all themselves, and Dean has experience with breaking young horses,” she reasons.

Chatan ignores her and hefts himself to his feet without her or his wife’s help. He leaves with her mother on his heels, even though she looks back at her daughter apologetically. You know your father, her eyes say.

Mila frowns at his back, both frustrated and upset. When they’re gone, she heaves a sigh. She remains determined though.

She goes to Chief Tahatan next. He sits in his chair of whicker and wood while he smokes his pipe. Her aunt has gone to help the other women harvesting chokeberries and wild onions. Mila will go there soon, but first, she has business here.

“Uncle,” she says.

He makes a sound of acknowledgement, crossed between a grunt and a groan. He knows what's coming. She kneels at his feet and touches his hand in a sign of humbleness, reverence, and familial love all at once.

“Uncle,” she repeats. “Dean has done nothing but try to please Father, but still, he’s being stubborn…will you talk to him? Please?”

Tahatan sighs deeply. “You must understand your father, child. The decision you’ve made affects us all.”

“I do understand, Uncle. But the truth of it is, none of you have given Dean a chance to prove himself.”

“His chance is right now,” Tahatan says, his tone more stern. “Have I not been gracious? Did I not allow him to stay and live among us?”

“Yes, but you continue to judge him in your mind, like everyone else,” she says. The Chief remains quiet. She moves to stand before him, holding his gaze directly. “Let us perform the Huŋkápi.”

Huŋkápi. The Making of Relatives. Her people first created the tradition to make peace between Lakota and rival tribes, like the Ree. It can even be used to unite extended families within the tribe, especially in times of marriage. There is no better time for it, she thinks.

The Chief shakes his head. “Kimmímila.”

“Is he not my husband?” she says. “In the eyes of our people, this is the joining of two families, and accepting an outsider into our tribe. That is exactly what the ceremony is for.”

“He has no family,” Tahatan snaps. “It is not exactly the tradition.”

“Then let us make it new,” she argues.

Tahatan hesitates. He shakes his head and rubs at his chin in a gesture of long-suffering. He thanks the spirits that he never had daughters. While he loves his niece, he has never envied his brother.

“I will think on it,” he says.

Mila frowns, but she tries her best to accept this, for now. She thanks him respectfully and leans in to kiss his cheek. Tahatan grunts an acknowledgement and watches her go with another shake of his head, despite a small smile. Between her and his sons, they will keep adding years to his life.

On her way out of the Chief’s tipi, she runs into her cousin, Šóta. He walks with all the comfortable cockiness of a rooster among his harem.

“Good morning, sister,” he greets, even as he playfully pulls at her braid and tosses it into her face.

She flicks it away and meets him with an irritated frown. She’s in no mood to be teased, especially by him. “You’re still a child.”

“Ho-ho, hey now,” he chuckles, and he cuts off her path by standing in her way, crossing his arms. “Watch it. When I become Chief, don’t think I’ll let you talk to me so disrespectfully, my sister.”

“Just because you will be Chief one day does not make you wise,” she says. Her voice is as sharp as the snap of a blackberry vine. “And don’t call me sister. You have lost that right.”

Šóta finally becomes serious; he realizes that she means what she says.

“What are you talking about? What have I done?” he asks, more earnestly.

“It’s what you haven’t done,” Mila snaps. “If you were a good leader, you would take your father’s words to heart when he accepted my husband into our tribe. If you were my brother, you wouldn’t let the men mock him. If you were a man at all, you would do what is right. You would be guiding him right now, instead of letting the others ‘train’ him.”

She storms away from him, leaving Šóta feeling irritated, but also with an uncomfortable feeling beginning to churn in his gut.

Mila moves brusquely through the camp until she reaches the clearing edged by the forest. There the horses are fenced in. They’ve been given their food and water for the morning, so they’re rather frisky as they clop around and graze.

She looks for Mato. Baby is no doubt with Dean today, so the Kiger mustang keeps to himself underneath a large sycamore tree. His tail flicks when she approaches, and he turns to her with a sound of greeting. She allows her hand to run along his dun-colored coat as she draws closer.

“I need you, my friend,” she whispers.

She holds his snout, pressing her forehead against his as she squeezes her eyes shut against the burn of frustrated tears. Mato bumps her shoulder with his nose, softly whinnying. She smiles, sniffling, and rubs his cheek.

“Let’s go for a ride.”

AN: Well, here we go! Sorry for ending on some angst, but here we've got the pieces in motion for a fun-filled, four-part sequel. 😂💜 Dean and Mila are both struggling in their own ways while he tries to navigate this new world he's trying to live in.

And how do you think he's gonna react to the "mystery man" trying to win her back? 😬

Pronunciation Guide:

Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Otaktay ("ogh-tac-tay") Weaya ("we-ayy-ya") Takoda ("ta-koda") Mato ("matt-toe") Misae ("mee-sah-eh")

Next Time:

But she feels a shadow at her feet as she ventures through the village. They are getting bigger as a tribe, harder to move when they need to, and it’s more mouths to feed, but it’s also a good thing. Despite all the challenges the past few decades have brought, their people are enduring.

However, she pushes these thoughts to the back of her mind when she feels a prickling down the back of her neck. It’s followed shortly by the strong hand that closes on her wrist, and the man that calls her name.

She gasps and whips around. He is there, gently shushing her. She glares at him and tries to pull her hand out of his grip.

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#lovely review!! 💗💗#reader appreciation #lovely mutuals #outlander feedback

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crow2222 · 1 day ago

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omg how was the show?? :D

Absolutely awesome. Shame I only saw it once since I can't see it on the 7th 😓 Guess I'll have to cherish that one time forever!

This ask is the perfect excuse for me to talk about the show 😈 Thank you

Now, time for the little things during the show that I made myself remember (and might've actually forgotten some) Spoilers for the musical below, I guess?

-The notebook being thrown into the water at the start, I. did not know there was water there.

-The lights turning off during fights in general was just spectacular to see, the noise of it shutting off as it did made it all the better.

-Darrel going to Ponyboy first after he's jumped & the rumble. Same as the book but sweet non the less.

-Soda always trying to get Darrel away whenever he's about to argue with Pony.

-Two-bit got a hubcap from the Socs, knew this but still funny to see.

-Ace saying "Yeah I like girls" after Soda says "You'd know huh Ace?" or something along those lines in GGAH. I was shaking when I heard that

-Soda didn't catch the hair grease when it was thrown at him, had another one in his back pocket 😭

-Ponyboy mentioning Sodapop saying Sandy's name in his sleep sometimes, awkward conversation to have..

-Johnny just plopping right into the tire when Dallas came to check on him as his parents fought, and then swatting him away when Dallas tried to go in his house, and the silence that came after. Ouch.

-Loved the dances during Friday at the drive in!

-PONY TRYING TO LOOK COOL BEFORE SITTING NEXT TO CHERRY IN THE DRIVE IN, I wasn't looking at them when they were hyping each other to get up at the start, only caught the last glimpse but then Pony popped up his collar, Johnny copying 😭 and then smoothing down his hair and sitting "all cool" cracked me up. Little losers

-Bob yelling(? forgot) at Cherry to get in the car 😬 Love her for standing her ground but Golly

-I was singing along to Runs in the Family Reprise in my head the entire time, also pretty sure someone gasped behind me when Ponyboy gets slapped

-Vocals in Great expectations, ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

-Socs literally lifting Ponyboy upside down to dunk him in the water?? Jesus

-Darrels no snitch

-No one laughing when Johnny wipes the blood on the switch off on his jeans, I felt like that was laugh worthy..

-Two-bit gettin jumped ☹️

-Loved the stage lighting for the sunrise!!!??

-Okay I knew that Dallas would say Pony looked like Burt Lancaster as well but the entire theatre laughing got me to laugh too

-The shadows of them helping the kids during Hoods Turned Heroes- I did not know that'd happen at all!

-The rumble sequence. Definitely matches up to the hype I've heard about it

-Darrel absolutely in awe while reading the newspaper about them being heroes..

-The Socs passing around a flask, holding it up to the sky before taking a gulp and pouring the rest into the fountain for Bob..

-THE ENTIRE GANG being there when Johnny dies?? I DID know this but damn. Still hurt.

-Pony thinking Dallas was just going to get on the train to run away again.. 🙁

-Darrel putting baloney in the food.. yikes! Yeah he didn't know, still. Damn the small details.

-Cherry volunteering at the hospital, that's how she got Johnny's stuff. I knew she was one to bring it but didn't think about it too hard, but if I did I'd probably be confused as hell

-Ponyboy dropping the letter to smell Johnny’s clothes just. Ripped me apart, because I carry sm memories to smells myself (autism be damned?)

-Darrel SOBBING when Ponyboy came to the table to eat at the very end. I did not expect that at all and felt myself tear up a bit (I didn't cry at all before that). He turned right to my section when he was trying to hide his sobs so I got a clear view of him trying to bottle it back up :(

-Loved the Gold lighting at the very end. Beautiful show overall!! Shame I can't see it again 💔

#the outsiders #the outsiders broadway #the outsiders musical #darry curtis #ponyboy curtis #darrel curtis #sodapop curtis #ace the outsiders #cherry valance #dallas winston #johnny cade #two bit mathews #bob sheldon

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susiekern · 8 hours ago

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15. the one with the question

a/n: the demons told me to name the chapter "the one with hotneighbor235" so let's say it's an alternative title

warnings: swearing

word count: 1.829

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You drop your phone on the desk and sigh deeply. It’s been almost a week, yeah. And you still haven’t talked to Megumi. You weren’t exactly sure what you were going to tell him anyway. ‘It was shitty when you talked to me as my favorite artist? When you hide that you’re him and try to build a relationship with me anyway? When you lied multiple times to conceal the truth?’

One part of you truly understood why it turned out like that. He couldn’t just randomly tell you about it all. The whole band worked hard to keep their identities covered, and it wouldn’t work if they just told people around them all the time. What hurt you was how he used Zenin to talk to you at the same time that he got close to you as himself. Why did he do that? For fun? To laugh at the dumb fan who was over the moon because he noticed her? That hurt part of your heart kept telling you it was cruel and you shouldn’t just forgive him.

But fuck, did you miss him. You barely stopped yourself from texting him back last night when your phone lit up with a message at 2 am.

‘I won’t give up on us.’

Please, don’t.

You wanted Megumi back, of course you did. But the wound was still too raw to just cover it up and forget about it. Thankfully, he limited himself to texting you, respecting that you didn’t want to see him, even though showing up at your door would only take him a few seconds. You needed the time and space, and he gave it to you. But how much more do you need?

“Hi, guys! Sorry for canceling earlier this week, but sickness got the best of me. As a compensation, we have a guest tonight, your favorite, Yuji.” Tuning out your thoughts, you put on your best smile and focus on your stream. It can wait a few more hours.

zeyde_: come again to Kyoto, pleaaaase

sammie: LET’S DO A MEET-UP IN KYOTO, YES.

“I’ll think about it, for sure. It was great to see some of you at the expo and obviously to meet with you, Zeyde, for the concert later.” You smile at the camera a few hours later, having just ended a call with Yuji after playing the planned games. It was truly relaxing, occupying your mind for the evening with something else than the last week. “Nobara wanted to go next time too, so we could probably make it happen.”

viviaaan: omg yes, bring the queen with you

viviaaan: I have to ask her about a few things from my closet, that’d be perfect!

zeyde_: the pleasure was mine, always happy to be a guide and a photographer

yusshi: I’m so jealous, must be nice not to live in a shithole, watch me take a trip across the country to meet you

“It’s always incredible to talk to any of you, so even if only two people show up, I’ll be more than happy.” Your cheeks almost hurt from smiling at the comments that flood the chat.

hotneighbor235: god I missed that smile

sammie: hotneighbor?!

zeyde_: THE hot neighbor

rooney_: wait what’s going on

“What the hell?” You murmur under your breath and furrow your brows. No, he wouldn’t do that, right?

viviaaan: wdym you missed it

zeyde_: what have you done hot neighbor

hotneighbor235: something shitty, but hopefully I can make it right

“You really don’t give up, huh?”

hotneighbor235: never

hotneighbor235: 5 minutes y/n, that’s all I need.

sammie: as a hot neighbor x y/n shipper, I’m with him

viviaaan: give the guy a chance, that’s actually adorable to come here and ask

yusshi: if a dude showed up in my chat asking for 5 mins, I’d cave in instantly

hotneighbor235: you’ve heard the people, darling

hotneighbor235: what do you say?

“5 minutes and not one longer. I’ll meet you upstairs soon.” Sighing, you nod your head. You can’t lie; asking on your stream warms up your heart a little. That’s an effort that you didn’t expect. Besides, it’s only 5 minutes, right? You’ll let him explain and nothing more, then you can think this through again.

hotneighbor235: we both know how it usually ends

hotneighbor235: but I’ll take what you give

hotneighbor235: thanks chat

20 minutes later, you climb the staircase leading to the rooftop. It brings back memories of every time you went there to just sit and talk to Megumi, all those weeks ago. When it all seemed easier. No, when it was easier. Now you’re not sure what to expect; your hands are shaking a little, and your brain feels fogged up. You finally go through the door, feeling the cold air enveloping you in a moment.

“You actually came.” Megumi sounds shocked, like he didn’t expect you to show up in the end. He’s standing in the usual spot, black hoodie on, hair tousled by the wind, cheeks a bit blushed, but you can’t tell if it’s due to the cold or emotions. You nervously come closer, tugging at the sleeves of your own hoodie.

“Yeah.” You murmur, standing in front of him, keeping the distance. “Hi.”

“Hi.” You hate how unsure your voices sound, how it feels like this week and everything that happened created a valley between you two. But you won’t be the one to cross it first, no matter how much you want to feel his warmth and arms around your body or breathe in his smell, which brings you so much comfort every time. “I’m… Fuck, I don’t even know how to start.”

“You’ve had almost a week to figure it out, Megumi. Or even longer if you ever planned to have this conversation with me.”

“I know. I just didn’t think you’d actually agree to talk to me tonight.” His fingers tug anxiously on his hair as he takes a deep breath in. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you found out like this, I should be the one to tell you about it all. But I need you to know that I didn’t mean anything wrong by keeping it from you. At first, I would never think we’d be that close, but then I saw it as an opportunity. It was easier to talk to you as a Zenin since you didn’t even like Megumi. But then I fell too deep and couldn’t find a proper way to get out of this.” He says, his voice hurting almost as much as your heart did in the past days.

“I understand why you kept it hidden at first, truly. But after Kyoto and the last few weeks, I thought we both felt the same, and I felt like an idiot when I finally figured it out.” Megumi’s eyes meet yours, and you almost gasp seeing how intense his gaze is.

“We feel the same. At least I hope you still do. And I’m the idiot for not telling you earlier, I wanted to do it in Kyoto, but I was worried. Zenin is a different part of me, and sometimes even I can’t believe we’re the same person. So I thought maybe you’d be mad for ruining his image in your head or disappointed with how it turns out.”

“I would never be disappointed. God, Megumi. If the last months showed me anything, it’s that you’re more than I could ever ask for. Zenin was a dumb fantasy of mine, somewhere deep in my head, but you’re the one I wanted to build something with. My future. Our future.” You clench your fists, keeping your head high. He thought you’d be disappointed? “I’m only disappointed that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me before. But at the same time, we’re not even officially together, so how could I expect it?”

“What do you mean?” His brows are furrowed, and there’s an evident confusion on his face. “We’re together. We’ve been together since our first date.”

Wait, what? Now you’re the one who’s confused.

“We’re together?”

“I mean, if you still want to be with me, yeah?” Hysteric laughter that pulls from your chest makes him frown a little. “I’ll take that as a no?”

“I want to. It’s just not how this thing is supposed to be working.” You take a deep breath in and shake your head a little. There’s hope behind his green eyes, and you can’t help the small smile that tugs on your lips.

“Oh, sorry, you want me down on my knees and asking, or…?” He risks joking, his smirk that you love so much back in its usual place.

God, how you missed seeing it. Seeing him. Talking to him. You missed everything that came with Megumi Fushiguro. His green eyes you got lost in every time, his deep voice, terrible jokes, and calloused fingers. How he made you feel with just one look your way. Sure, you need to work on the communication between you two, but you’re willing to take the risk and give him a chance because how you feel around him is too rare not to try.

“Not hiding your second identity and being fully honest will be enough.” Your words make him drop his gaze to his shoes. “Any other alter ego I should know about?”

“Nope, Zenin is the only one, I promise.” He sighs and takes a step closer to you. “I want to ask, though.”

“Doing it the right way this time?” You take a step his way too, giving him the reassurance he so desperately needed.

“Something like that, yes.” Megumi takes one of your hands in his, gently, like he’s scared you’ll run away any moment now. “y/n y/l, will you be my girlfriend? With full honesty and VIP tickets to the concerts this time.”

“You got me at the tickets. So yes, I will be your girlfriend. But pull shit like that once again, and I’ll throw you off this rooftop with my bare hands.” The threat would be more serious if you weren’t smiling like crazy.

“If I hurt you again, I’ll jump on my own.” With that, he pulls you in, one of his hands cradling your cheek as his eyes roam around your face. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

You don’t answer, instead going on your toes to connect your lips in a first kiss in what seems like forever. It’s gentle, almost unsure, as you both test the water first. But you only need a few seconds to fall into the rhythm you know so well, his arms wrapping around your waist, as yours circle his shoulders, pulling each other closer. That feeling of comfort that envelops the both of you, the warmth and peace of mind, was worth waiting for. It was all worth it, as long as he held you close and as long as you kept smiling at him.

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