#at least these guys seem more professional & like they have some shit together than the ones who ghosted me

[zvaigzdelasas]

tech interview today, coded up a little minesweeper app...now im just playing the game i made.....how do people code up games without getting distracted by them

[hanasnx]

" DON'T BURY THOUGHTS THAT YOU REALLY WANT " — katsuki bakugou.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established coworker relationship ノ sexual and suggestive content: dirty talk ノ degradation: m+f receiving ノ body shame joke.

You’ve known pro-hero DYNAMIGHT for years now, and he just started paying attention to you in ways you notice. Admiring him from afar was easy, but closing in was another matter entirely; working alongside one another got you in the same proximity, and he was forced to acknowledge you. He treated you like any other person he meets, and after studying him, you figured out an in.

Instead of a simple, “I’ll kick your ass!” from him when you’ve pissed him off, you’ve devised your own special language with him. Miraculously, he doesn’t seem to give you the impression you’ve gotten the best of him. Instead, you’re rewarded with hateful but sexual confessions. Now when you piss him off, his and your special brand of understanding and humor have turned a violent warning into a disgusting promise. “I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you.” he tells you.

If anyone was listening in, they’d think you and him have entered some romantic relationship, completely inappropriate to your professional standings. On the contrary, you’ve trained him to speak to you in a way that pleases you without him even knowing. Now your banter with him consists of angry flirting, and he still believes he’s making threats. Out on the battlefield he shamefully critiques your poor choices with something along the lines of, “Was gonna fuck your brains out tonight, but it looks like my job’s already done!”

You wear it proudly. You’ve managed to get the great Katsuki Bakugou to do what you want him to. After a long, arduous process groomed by your consistent schedule with him, spending time together observing him as you work alongside one another, you’ve done it. In place of him calling you a simple idiot, he tells you you’re lucky you’re hot.

A “fight” with him, looks like a horny situationship from the outside, publicly debuting your desire for one another like PDA-obsessed freaks. You delight in it, while he remains oblivious. At least you thought he was. More and more, he leans into this little share of humor you two have going on, wit that leads you into suspicion.

“You look like shit. Maybe if you slept over at my place, I would’ve tired you out enough to get you to bed at a decent time.” Bakugou notes, passing you as if he’d relayed the weather. Brows furrowed, you pivot your head to watch the back of his while he strides on. It’s unusual that he’d phrase it that way, regarding it as opportunistic rather than domineering. You shrug it off under the basis he’s just evolving the jokes, he’s not extending an offer.

The next day isn’t so different, sitting across from him at the table in a meeting you’re both early for. His body language is lax as always, an elbow hooked behind a corner of the chair, his glove at his belt, legs spread far. Taking up as much space as possible, whereas your hands are clasped neatly on the surface in front of you. You can tell he’s reading you, those crimson eyes unapologetically scrutinizing your erect posture and a cruel grin stretches one side of his mouth. Sighing impatiently through your nose, you call him out on being a creep. “What? What’re you lookin’ at, Bakugou? You want me or something?” you call upon that unique sense of sexual humor, hoping to trip him up.

No such luck. He snickers, and leans back in his chair to cross his thick arms across his wide chest. A pose that leaves you gulping, and he visibly notices how your eyes wander for a milisecond. “Whatever guy you’re fucking is doing a shit job because you’re still a bitch with a stick up your ass.” Has he been cooking that up this whole time? He looks mighty pleased with himself.

“Don’t be a pig, Dynamight. Who I’m sleeping with is none of your concern.” you retort, and you’re not beating the bitchy allegations. You stick your nose in the air in spite of yourself, and out of the corner of your eye you can see him teetering on the back legs of his chair. So you peer at him a little more deliberately while you’re faced away. “Unless you want a piece, that is.” A much more subtle flirt, gauging his reaction to such a timid offer.

Meanly, he scoffs. “‘A piece?’” he parrots. “What, a piece? Of that little thing? The fuck am I supposed to do with that, huh? Ass like that you’ll have to work for it.”

“Bakugou!” Somehow, he went a little too far that time. A pang of hurt is uncharacteristic to experience, and yet it twists your heart. You mask it, trying to match his energy in a way you can manage. “Are you just gonna comment on my body or are you gonna do something with it?”

“Oh, I’m gonna do som’thin’ with it, alright. I’m gonna do som’thin’.” A greedy expression shifts his features, eyeing you up like you’re a meal, a prey. Maybe he's catching on to you... And before he can explain and you can rebuke, other heroes enter the meeting room, and all four legs of his chair land with a slam.

@HANASNX 2024 | do not copy, plagiarize, or steal.

[endless-ineffabilities]

Aaaand, CUT! (a Chemical Override minishot)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: I've been watching a ton of The Office bloopers, which inspired this random little thing. This is set waaay back in part 1. Oh, the good ol' days.

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Ewan and the reader film a promo spot for season 2. They try to, at least.

The press day in Paris had been going smoothly for the most part. At least, that was how it seemed. You hoped that you have been able to act smooth, so to speak, having to sit in close quarters with a guy who can make your heart race a mile a minute, and all he has to do is turn those blue eyes in your direction. 

You and Ewan were halfway through your schedule of interviews and promo. But by the time the crew set up for the next clip—a quick promotional spot—you both were running on caffeine and shared inside jokes. 

You couldn’t believe you were sharing private quips with Ewan (Aemond himself!) but you found it easy to get lost in your dynamic. These were the kind of jokes that only made sense after hours and hours of interviews, with lights glaring in your faces and scripted answers rolling off your tongues like a broken record. 

You stood next to him, the House of the Dragon logo projected on a screen behind you. The task was simple: introduce yourself and tell the audience to watch House of the Dragon Season 2 on Max. Fifteen seconds, tops.

But you two had already spiraled into a fit of laughter in the last three takes. 

Somehow, saying the line together, “Go and watch House of the Dragon Season 2, only on Max,” had become the hardest thing in the world.

“Alright, let’s try this again,” the director said, sounding more tired than frustrated. “From the top.”

Ewan turned to you, his lips twitching. “Bet you crack first, darling.”

Your mouth fell open in faux indignation. “Shush. I got this.”

“Let’s see, shall we?” His gaze dropped briefly to your lips before he straightened up, ready to go.

The red light on the camera flicked on, and the cameraman waved a hand as a signal for you to begin.

You barely had time to shoot Ewan a warning glance before you introduced yourself. 

He followed smoothly, “And I’m Ewan Mitchell.”

It was going fine. Smooth, even. So professional.

Until you reached the part where you had to say the final line in unison.

“Go and watch House of the Dragon Season 2, only on—” Ewan dropped his voice an octave, dragging out “Max” in an over-the-top baritone that sent you over the edge.

“Pffft—shit!” you snort uncontrollably. “What was that?” You pressed a hand to your mouth, trying desperately to keep it together, but it was too late.

Take, ruined.

“What?” Ewan crumbles into laughter, his low chuckle infectious.

The director sighed heavily. “Cut!”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, wiping at the tears forming in the corners of your eyes. “We’re never going to get through this.”

Ewan leaned in, ducking his head to whisper, “You’re adorable when you laugh.”

“Stop it,” you shot him a look. Act cool. “You’re distracting me on purpose.”

“Stop what?” he smirked. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Right. Some help you are,” you said sarcastically, though the warmth in his gaze made it impossible to stay serious for long.

“Come on, focus,” he teased, nudging your arm with his elbow. “We’ve got a job to do here.”

“Maybe you should focus,” you retorted, arching an eyebrow. “You’re the one who keeps messing up with that ridiculous voice.”

He laughed again. “What can I say? I thought we needed some extra charm.”

You gasp playfully. “Is that your subtle way of telling me I don’t possess enough charm?”

“Oh, darling,” he said, “I could never say that to you.”

You clear your throat. “Mhmm… okay, well—”

His smirk stayed right in place, as he leaned back coolly.

“Alright, guys, one more time,” the director called out. “Please, just this one. Action.”

You stood a little straighter, determined to get it right this time, then recited your line. 

“... and I’m Ewan Mitchell.”

Together, you spoke in unison. “Go and watch House of the Dragon Season 2, only on—”

But this time, Ewan leaned in just a fraction, whispering right at the end of the line, “Max... or maybe just come watch it with me?”

His breath was warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You lost it completely.

“Oh my god, stop,” you gasped between fits of laughter, swatting at his arm. “Ewan, you can’t say that!”

The director groaned from behind the camera, clearly on the verge of giving up. “Alright, five minutes, people. Just take a breather.”

You were still laughing as you walked off the set, shaking your head in disbelief. “We’re never going to get this done.”

Ewan followed you, his grin softening into something more intimate as he glanced your way. “Maybe we could be stuck here all day together. Would that really be so bad?”

Your breath hitched slightly. He wasn’t looking at you like he was joking anymore. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words got tangled up somewhere between your brain and your throat.

Thankfully, the crew called you both back for another take before things could get any more complicated.

Once again, you took your places under the lights. You made the mistake of catching Ewan’s eye, and the memory of his earlier teasing flooded back, making it impossible to keep a straight face.

Ewan raised his eyebrows at you, as if daring you to start laughing again.

“Don’t you dare,” you whispered through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to laugh.

“I didn’t say anything,” he said, his lips twitching.

“You’re thinking it.”

He chuckled under his breath, his voice low. “I was thinking of something else entirely.”

Your cheeks burned. Before you could even process what he meant, the camera started rolling again.

You took a deep breath and said your line without a hitch.

Ewan jumped in, his voice perfectly smooth and serious this time. “And I’m Ewan Mitchell.”

Together, you said, “Go and watch House of the Dragon Season 2, only on Max.”

You made it. You actually made it through the line.

The director hurriedly shouted a relieved, "Aaaand, CUT!" then added, "Holy shit, you two—with all that flirting, I'm amazed we made it this far today."

[science-lings]

More info on the options below the cut

1- My guy just lost his job and has to live out of his old office there's no way he can be allowed to adopt Trucy immediately, but if he had a rich husband who lives overseas and lets them technically commit fraud by moving into his old apartment during social worker visits... that would be much easier. Edgeworth isn't against being a little underhanded in his methods with the law and he has witnessed Phoenix with the Feys so if an infamous attorney were to adopt a child left behind by a tragic trial, he'd be so glad it was Phoenix. That guy has been reeking dad energy for years. It's also important to note that no one doubted the authenticity of their relationship since they went to go sign the papers because most people who have seen them already assumed that they were together. They don't have to try to convince anyone.

2- The things they call each other are so important to me, as kids they're Miles and Phoenix/Nick, in court they're Mr. Edgeworth and Mr. Wright, outside of court but still in a professional setting they're Edgeworth and Wright, when they're flirting they're back to Miles and Phoenix, but when they're insufferably flirting, Pheonix is 'Mr. Edgeworth' and Miles is 'Mr. Wright' They do this before they get married, both legally and actually.

3- They would be so funny on a reality tv show or some kind of game show, if their motive is doing something better than the other, they will put their whole pussies into whatever that thing is, even if it's like the great british baking show and Phoenix is the only one who can kind of bake. If they get to work together they're insane, put these assholes in an escape room and they will fuck that shit up. With Miles, who learned how to pick locks, and Phoenix, who got used to puzzles when working with Professor Layton, they would speedrun an escape room.

4- idk Pheonix just seems like he gets super affectionate with the people he loves, he kisses Trucys forehead/head so constantly it's habitual for him to pop off her hat to smooch her scalp and replace it right after. I also think it would be funny if he was so unprofessional about his love for Edgeworth except when they're in court but that's because they have to stand like twenty feet away from each other. Edgeworth turns red every time but he rarely protests, at least not seriously.

5- I just think they should be each other's 'oh shit' moment because that is funny to me. Phoenix didn't really realize he was attracted to men, at least in that capacity until that newspaper article and Miles had accepted that he was aro until he caught feelings he thought he was immune to. They both deal with it so well... /s

6- Connected to my hc that lawyers in the AA universe get kind of a celebrity status, but both Phoenix and Miles are so offline that they are completely unaware of it. Maya and Trucy and Kay especially are definitely not unaware and they think it's so funny. They contribute to the rumors. There are Edgeworth and Phoenix fancams made from court footage set to kpop. Apollo had a Phoenix Wright stan account and he used to fight the PW haters on twitter before he actually met the guy. He forgot the password so he can't delete it and it's only a matter of time before someone connects the dots. Anyway they trend on twitter every time they meet in court like when a new season of a show comes out and the fanbase goes bonkers.

7- obviously they call and message each other but they both think it's nostalgic to send letters, and Phoenix likes having a reason to send physical pictures from when they were kids since Miles wasn't allowed to keep any of that in the Von Karma household. Edgeworth usually sends sweets from whatever country he's in for Trucy.

8- I personally think that Phoenix has more of that kitten look but I was recently reminded of how often in the of trilogy when ppl have to tell him to put those things away. He can weaponize his big brown eyes and Miles pretends to be unaffected but he's weak to it just like everyone else. He has that kitty vibe, he asks for things by looking really pathetic and sad and it works in his favor every time.

9- Phoenix is the type of guy to fall asleep during most movies if he isn't judging it intently or particularly interested and when they were kids they tried to binge more than one samurai movie and Phoenix fell asleep before the first one ended. That official art just makes him look like such a sleepy guy. Again the kitty energy returns, he's a big napper.

10- these bitches are so good at arguing, but they both want to win so it takes forever to decide on things that actually don't matter that much. If they can't decide on a restaurant to go to for a date they won't finish arguing their case about their preferred place to go until after they close. They never yell at each other or get too emotionally invested in a lot of things but they will draw that shit out and take out evidence and witness testimony if it helps their case. Sometimes it gets so extensive that they have to pull out the whiteboard/ corkboard. Just as long as it's presented like a court case it will be so well communicated between them so they take advantage of that because or else they kinda suck at talking to each other about their problems.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 4)

Summary: The reader and Dean come up with a not so subtle way of addressing their relationship status. However, the more she thinks about it, the more serious her relationship with Dean seems to be and with that comes a newfound trust. Meanwhile, the pair have a busy Sunday when they have to deal with not only their bodyguards but meeting parents for the first time too...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 9,800ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping, smut

A/N: Hoo boy this part is a lot. I love all of these guys so much. Please enjoy!

_________

Reader POV

“You know you don’t have to tell anyone shit,” said Emma, your new head of PR. You worked on your mascara, Emma leaned against the makeup counter. “You and Dean are entitled to your privacy.”

“I know,” you said, blinking your eyes a few times, checking your teeth for lipstick. “It’s why I always wanted you to be my PR manager. You won’t fuck me over.”

“Bold statement from someone who knows better than to trust anyone in this business.” You straightened up, Emma looking you over. 

“I trust Eric and he trusts you,” you said, stepping closer in your heeled booties. “I don’t think his little sister’s going to stab me in the back after all.”

“He told you,” she said, her chin tilt slightly annoyed. You shook your head with a smile. “How’d you know then? I’ve never used my maiden name professionally.”

“Same nose and eyes. The fact your twins are Eliot and Emmet and he has twin nephews by those names. Y’all really love the ‘E’ names in your family, don’t you?” She looked impressed, nodding her head.

“Eric said you’re smart. Tough too.” She stepped aside when you motioned for you to walk. “It’s a pretty good idea to present you’re dating on your terms but again, you don’t have to do it. You can just…be.”

“Yeah but if we address it head on, at least we can stop whatever fake rumors get put out there. The world doesn’t get to know every little thing about us but Dean and I both feel like this is the best way forward. I mean, we want to stay private but we’re okay with this. We don’t want to be forced to hide.”

“Alright,” she said, stopping with you by a rack of clothes. “Can I ask a personal question?”

“Shoot,” you said, running your finger through the different options, one catching your eye.

“You love him?” Your eyes darted to hers, Emma watching carefully. “The way you two looked at each other this morning when we came up with this plan…those kinds of looks are dangerous.”

“...We’re dating is all. It’s only been three weeks,” you said, picking up a hangar, ignoring her stare.

“You’ve never publicly dated and never gone on more than a few private blind dates in all the time my brother’s worked for you. And the supposed playboy of the NFL comes along and you two commitmentphobes are head over heels?”

“Your point?” you asked with a sigh. “What, you want to plan the wedding already?”

“Some celebrities get married for money. Some for careers and some for image. And the public knows it. If you go out there tonight wearing that, the public will fucking fawn over you and Dean because you’re the real deal. Just be prepared for the long term because doing this might be a decision that will follow you the rest of your life.”

“He’s not a playboy,” you said absently, Emma smiling softly. “He was just…in pain.”

“Then keep loving him and we’ll figure out the craziness together,” she said, nodding at the piece of clothing in your hands. “That’s cute. It’ll drive him nuts.”

“I never said I loved him,” you said as her phone started to ring.

“Oh, sweetie. Your face said it all,” she said with a smirk. “I’ll let you get ready.”

You swallowed when she left the dressing room. Three weeks ago, Dean Winchester was a playboy asking for your number in a McDonald’s at midnight. And now…

You ran a hand over your stomach, butterflies filling it. 

“Hey,” said Eric, knocking once on the door and poking his head inside. “You’re supposed to be on stage to start the encore in thirty seconds.”

You shook your head and threw the shirt on, Eric biting back a smirk. “Oh shut up.”

“I said nothing,” he grinned, helping you fix your hair where it got stuck. “I told Emma you knew what you were doing with this.”

“Well your sister had to come and drop a bomb that I apparently love Dean on me,” you said, fixing your ponytail, Eric adjusting the clip in the back like he had a million times on tour. “Eric! Say something about how ridiculous that is.”

“You are kind of in love with him. Good news, I think the kid’s in love with you too,” he winked. You stared up at him, Eric chuckling. “Oh, a handsome sweet man loves you. What an awful life you live, kiddo.”

“He does not love me and I’d appreciate if you don’t bring up that word around him.” You smoothed out your outfit, Eric still laughing. “I don’t…that word him at the current moment.”

“Yeah you do. Otherwise you would ignore the media and press until you did know.” You rolled your eyes at him, Eric patting you on the butt. “Go sing to your heart’s content little miss not in love.”

“Asshole,” you said, walking ahead of him towards the end of the makeshift hallway. You breathed heavy at the end, Eric rubbing your shoulders. “I do like him.”

“He brings you to life,” he whispered in your ear. 

“Just…don’t say anything. Not until we have that conversation ourselves,” you said.

“Of course,” he said. “Three more songs and then you’ve got some chicken nuggies waiting for you.”

You took a few deep breaths before you opened the door and jogged up some crew stairs, appearing in the wings of the stage where VIP’s got to view the show.

And tonight that meant Dean and his friends. You saw some of their eyes go wide before you grabbed your cloak off the rack and threw up the hood, concealing you away.

“Is she wearing…” you heard Benny say as you stopped in front of Dean, giving him a quick kiss. 

“Break a leg, sweetheart,” he whispered as you were handed a mic. “Have fun.”

“I’ll see you in twenty,” you said before walking out on stage, a ravenous applause deafening you for a moment. You took your mark in center stage, the music for Fairytale starting up. It was one of those songs that started slow and ramped up. Every night on tour you got to have fun with it. The outfits were insane. Normally they were all fairytale themed and the crowd was always excited to see what theme you went for when your dancers would yank the cloak off you in the second chorus.

You swore you’d never heard a stadium so loud as when the cloak fell away and they saw you were wearing Dean’s NFL jersey. Well, almost his jersey. This one had been modified to add some lace and a few sparkles but it was subtle. You caught Dean smiling out of the corner of your eye and winked at him. He’d been all for the plan of your indirect way of addressing the photos from last night.

It told people enough but also meant you and Dean didn’t have to specially come out and say you were dating. The second you did that, they’d never stop wanting more and more from your private lives. And while you didn’t like to admit it, Eric and Emma had a point.

Dean calmed a part of you that hadn’t known peace in a very long time. It just felt…easy.

Two and a half songs later you took a bow and jogged off stage, Dean waiting with open arms. 

“You’re amazing,” he said, picking you straight up in a hug. “You make that look like a walk in the park.”

“Years of practice,” you said, Dean setting you down. “I can’t wait to come to your guys game tomorrow.”

“Pretty sure the whole country can’t wait either,” joked Michael. “Speaking of which we better get out of here, getting pretty late.”

“Later guys,” said Dean, joining you as you went downstairs again to your dressing room, Eric and Sloane on your tail along with some other security.

Exactly forty two minutes later you were home with Dean, his strong arms throwing you over his shoulder. “Dean I just ate!”

“Well now I want my dessert,” he laughed, rushing upstairs with you, gently dropping you on your bed. You both were giggling, Dean leaning over you as he pushed hair out of your face. “Seeing you in my jersey was hot in way you don’t even know.”

“I can imagine. Let me wash up quick,” you said, rolling out from under him. He hummed and laid back on the bed while you ducked into the bathroom and made a straight shot for the closet. Less than two minutes later you exited, Dean relaxing with his eyes closed.

You cleared your throat, Dean lifting his head as he leaned against his elbows. He froze half-way up though, eyes wide.

“You said you liked me in your jersey.” You tugged on the bottom hem of the jersey to bring it down, just barely covering yourself. “What if I was wearing only your jersey?”

“Are you-”

“Uh huh,” you said, stepping forward, letting the material rise up and show him your completely bare bottom half. You crawled up on the bed, straddling his thighs as Dean swallowed roughly. “I was always afraid of what would happen once the world knew I was dating someone. That’d it’d be too much or the person would betray me.”

“I have a sneaking suspicion you no longer feel that way?” asked Dean. You nodded, taking his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together.

“We’re not going to screw each other. I like the fact we can go do things out together now,” you said, bringing his hand up to your lips. Your eyes closed softly, Dean’s thumb wiping over your bottom lip. “You don’t want anything from me. That feels so damn good, Dean, you don’t even know.”

“I wouldn’t say that exactly,” he said, your eyes peeling open as he moved his hand with yours to your cheek. “I do want something.”

Your heart started to race as he sat up, his free hand wrapping around your back, holding you flush to him. He smirked when he felt your chest thumping away, his hand squeezing yours.

“Oh, isn’t it obvious what I want, princess?” he murmured, practically crushing your body against his. “I told you from the start. I want you.”

You would have melted into a puddle on the floor if not for his arm around you. He kissed you sweetly, slowly, taking all the time in the world to enjoy this.

“Someday,” he mumbled, giving you a chance to cup his cheeks, Dean absently turning into the touch.

“Someday what?” you whispered, Dean smiling again.

“Someday you’ll fall in love with me too,” he breathed out, kissing you gently. He pressed a finger to your lips, shushing you. “I’ve been a sucker for you for over a decade. I get to say it. Just don’t freak on me, Y/N. I can wait-”

“Someday,” you said, Dean nodding. “Someday soon.”

“Someday soon,” he repeated, dipping his lips to the hollow of your neck. You didn’t like the tone though and grasped his chin, bring his head up. Sad green eyes met yours, a pain behind them you hadn’t seen before. “It’s been three weeks. I know you can’t-”

“If it wasn’t you, I wouldn’t have let you in this bed.” You murmured. “If you can know, I can know too and I know that you are the first person I’ve let myself love in a very long time. God Dean, you don’t know how bad it was. How fucking alone I was. Surrounded by people all the time but so goddamn lonely.”

He shushed you, hugging you tight. “We don’t have to be lonely anymore, sweetheart. We can…we can just be together.”

You nodded, arms wrapped around his broad body, head buried in the crook of his neck. 

“Here you thought this was going to be a sexy conversation,” he chuckled. You laughed softly, Dean’s lips pressing against the top of your head.

“I like all of our conversations,” you murmured, inhaling his musky cologne. You enjoyed the scent, his warm body soft as it held you. 

“You got to be tired,” he whispered, running a hand down your back. “We should get you to sleep.”

“Dean.” You tilted your head up, Dean’s eyebrows raising so slightly you almost missed it. You nodded, taking his hand and putting it against your chest. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”

He pressed a hungry kiss to your mouth, tongue playfully devouring you, a hungry beast finally uncaged within him. You gripped his t-shirt in your fists, pulling hard on the material. He got the message, breaking free to yank it off one handed, giving you space to undo his belt.

“Do you have a condom?” he breathed, his cock already straining to get out of the confines of his pants.

“In the nightstand if you want. I have an IUD,” you said, tugging on his jeans, Dean toppling back on the covers. You put your hands on his hips, Dean giving you a reassuring smile. You’d been playing the past few weeks, teasing each other with hands and mouths. Dean always guided you though, focused on your pleasure, was so slow and gentle the first time you went down on him.

You had no doubt that tonight though he’d let you run things.

“Do you want a condom?” you asked, taking his boxer briefs off, momentarily crawling off the bed.

“I’ve never not used one.” You stood up, reaching for the drawer when he was suddenly sat up, long fingers wrapped around your wrist. You stared at each other, Dean pulling you close, sliding his hands upwards and pulling the jersey off.

“Are you sure?” you asked. 

“I’m clean. A little fun fact about myself? I haven’t gotten laid since last winter.” You blinked at him, lips parting. “I know. All the dates, the girlfriends. Hooking up lost it’s appeal a while ago.”

He settled his hands on your hips, licking his lips as he eyed you up and down properly for the first time. 

“Think my brain caught up to the fact I always belonged to someone else.” You closed your eyes, straddling his lap. Large hands splayed against your bare back, Dean shaking your hair loose from your bun. He buried his nose in the strands, inhaling deeply. “I really convinced you to give the playboy all the pieces of you so quickly. Gotta say I’m a little surprised.”

“You’ve earned it,” you whispered, hands sliding from his shoulders, down his chest, down his stomach, tracing every inch of his muscled body.

“Because I annoyed you into hanging out with me?” he chuckled. You shook your head, finding his chin, grasping it lightly until your eyes locked.

“Because you’re my best friend. Because I know you would never pressure me for anything, never ask for anything from me but my friendship in return.” You touched your forehead to his, Dean closing his eyes. “Because you’re mine, Winchester. I picked you first after all.”

“You so did not,” he chuckled. “I saw you with those obnoxious sneakers first.”

You laughed, Dean’s eyes peeling open, a devilish smirk on them. “Oh, Winchester. You really never paid attention to who would sing the National Anthem before all those little football games, did you?”

He blinked, cocking his head, eyes widening. “You! That wasn’t-”

“I was horribly shy and there were fifty thousand people in the stands each week. I went Hannah Montana and wore a wig and those crazy sunglasses.”

“You’re Penny Princess!” he exclaimed, shaking his head with a smile. “She flirted with me all the fucking time before games!”

“I was emotionally repressed in college, not dead. A girl has needs,” you laughed, running your fingers through his hair. “You were so fucking cute back then. So many times I wanted to be brave and go talk to you at a party but all I saw was pain. But I did think you were cute.”

“I thought you barely remembered me from college,” he said quietly. 

“I repressed a lot from back then. I’ve been…thinking about you a lot lately and remembered some stuff,” you said, your cheeks feeling flush. 

“Alright. You picked me first,” he murmured, thumbing over your hot face. His hand drifted downwards, lightly grazing over your chest, knuckles brushing your pebbled right nipple. Teasing. The barest of touches that sent sparks down your back.

Then you were both were moving fast. His thumb on your clit. Your hand pumping him. Mouths smashing together like you hadn’t spent the past three weeks making out every night.

“Whoa, girl. Get a little wet-” said Dean as you grabbed his shoulders and slammed down on his cock. The groan he let out was absolutely sinful. “Jesus. You’re wetter than the fucking ocean.”

“Emotional reassurance turns me on,” you said, Dean laughing so hard you felt it run like a wire through your body.

“I’m going to tell the press you should be the one with the naughty nickname if you can take dick like that on your first go.” You lifted your hips a few inches, dropping slowly, raising up slow again.

“You really ought to take a look in that nightstand sometime, handsome,” you winked, Dean’s chuckle turning into a soft little moan.

“How are you going so slow? You’re not gonna last,” he breathed out, squeezing your body tight.

“Feel my thighs,” you said, Dean’s hands sliding down, fingertips pressing into the flesh.

“Shit, girl. Gotta give me your leg workout.”

“Squats. A lot of fucking squats,” you said, slowly falling down on his cock again, his thumb rubbing lightly, easing you back from your build up. “I might not know what the fuck I’m doing but I can stay along for the ride at least.”

“You uh,” he groaned when you ground your hips down and rolled them, his cock twitching inside you. “Shit, you know what you’re doing, sweetheart. Trust me. Actually better cool it with that move unless you want me to go early.”

“Not yet, want this to last a bit longer.”

A bit longer turned into nearly an hour, both of you fucking drenched in sweat, Dean bouncing you up and down on his cock as you moaned into his neck. His whole body tensed up when he finally came a moment after you, your legs shaky but body sated.

“Did I do okay?” you panted, lifting your heavy head. Dean wore a goofy smile as he started to giggle, arms wrapped you, hugging you in a warm embrace.

“You did fucking incredible,” he laughed, kissing your cheek. “I can’t wait to go again.”

“Me too,” you said, eyes catching the clock on the nightstand. “Oh shit. It’s already after one. What time do you have to get up?”

“Six,” he said with a grin. “Don’t worry about it. Tomorrow, well today, should be an easy game.”

“We still got to get you to bed.” You tugged him up and into the bathroom, trying to get him to take a shower and into bed quickly. But he insisted on helping you clean up, washing your hair for you and even wrapping it up in a big towel while he dried off.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he said when you shook your damp hair out, his eyes sleepy but a smile in them.

“You say that a lot.” You ran the towel over it one last time before ditching the towels on the floor, walking him back to the bedroom. 

“It’s true,” he said, booping your nose. You barely had the covers peeled back when he tugged you to his chest, throwing the blankets over top of you. A heavy arm slid over your waist, your head resting on his shoulder while you hugged his torso. “See? You already know how to do a post-sex cuddle too.”

“Dork.”

“Yeah but I got the girl so…” he teased, kissing you when you looked up. 

“Yeah I guess you did.” You kissed his pec, a pleasant warmth filling you when he tucked your head under his chin protectively. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You woke up to yelling. Dean was sat upright in bed, his body between you and the door, an arm in front of you as you both tried to shake the haze of sleep.

“Shut the fuck up, Eric!” screamed Sloane. You both relaxed, a glance at the clock showing it was five thirty. Eric shouted back as you ran your hands over your face.

“We need to have a talk with those two,” he sighed. “Here I thought you meeting my parents would be the most awkward part of my day.”

“Parents?” you asked, Dean humming as he pecked a kiss on your cheek and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

“They always go to my home games. You’ll have to watch with them in the private booth I share with Benny. There’ll be other people. His family and friends. I’m sorry, I should have warned you it’d be different than the booth you had with your friends in New York. I can try to get you one on your own-”

“No,” you said, shaking your head, cupping his cheek when the worried eyes remained. “I’d love to watch with them, meet them. And I like Benny so I’m sure I’ll like his family too.”

“Okay. I promise they’ll be cool. Well probably not but I can plead and beg with them at least.” 

“I said shut up!” shouted Sloane again. You shared a look and got up, going into your closet to find a bra and underwear. You tossed a flannel shirt Dean had worn over last week on and wearily walked out, Dean dressed in last night’s clothes.

“I’m sure I’ll love your parents. Probably more than my own,” you mumbled, Dean catching your hand before you could open the door to go face whatever the hell was happening.

“Do you talk to them at all?” he asked. You shrugged.

“Holidays. They come to my award shows and normally at least a few concerts a year, normally the ones in Kansas City back home. They…visit during Max’s birthday week,” you said, glancing down. “His birthday is today. He’s twenty eight. They’ll show up tomorrow.”

“Why not today?” 

“I get the feeling they don’t want me around today,” you whispered. “Another day that’s supposed to be his and I’d somehow make it about me.”

“We’ll celebrate tonight.” Your eyes darted up, Dean nodding. “We’ll have a cake and you can tell me all about him.”

You swallowed thickly, blinking back the sudden wetness in your eyes. “Y-You don’t have to do that.”

Dean stepped forward, tucking your loose hair behind your ear, humming to himself. “You’re right. I don’t.” 

He held out a hand, smiling softly when you bottom lip wobbled. “Why do you care?”

“Why wouldn’t I care?” he responded. You nodded quickly, Dean shushing you when you sniffled. “I still make Sammy a birthday cake every year. Let’s do the same for Max, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, grateful as he intertwined his fingers with your own. Another round of shouts came and you readied yourself, Dean wiping away the rouge tear that had fallen. “What do we say to them?”

“Either they work it out, they work different areas or one of them has to go,” sighed Dean. “I really don’t want to lose Sloane, especially now with probably needing actual security for myself.”

“And I can’t lose Eric. I just can’t. He’s the one person I can trust without a doubt on my team. Plus he’s my only real friend beside you. Everyone else is superficial.”

“My boys can’t wait to hang out with you properly. They’re pretty ride or die,” he said, closing his eyes. “We tell them they work it out or they just don’t speak to each other about anything not strictly work related. They’re both professional enough to not jeopardize the two of us.”

“Agreed,” you said, the shouting getting louder. Dean opened the door, letting you take the lead when you got to the top of the stairs, looking over the balcony to see them shouting in the kitchen. “Eric! Sloane! It’s not even six in the damn morning!”

They both snapped their jaws shut, going into rigid upright positions as if they were soldiers in trouble. 

“Guys, this can’t keep happening,” said Dean when you got downstairs, taking your hand in his again. Eric stared at his shoes while Sloane shot angry daggers in Eric’s direction. “We know the history between you two. But Y/N and I need the both of you, more than ever. You have to learn to get along or we have to insist you don’t talk to each other beyond what is necessary for work. Can you both do that?”

“Yes,” said Eric. 

“Yes,” Sloane grit out, still glaring at Eric.

“Sloane,” snapped Dean, her eyes shooting to him instead, chin falling. “Yes or no. It’d kill me to lose you but if you can’t live with the options we presented, I will ask you to resign for the sake of Y/N’s safety.”

“I would never put her in danger,” said Sloane quickly, glancing at you. “I can work with Eric as Dean’s primary. We just…will be professional. There’ll be no more fighting.”

“Agreed,” said Eric, nodding quickly. “We apologize for disturbing you.”

“You’re lucky Dean had to get up soon anyway.” You went to the coffee maker, grateful one of them had already made a batch. You poured some in the periwinkle mug for Dean before making a cup for yourself. “Dean, would you be okay with Eric sticking with you today?”

“What?” asked Eric, Dean taking the mug and ignoring him.

“Love to,” he said. “Sloane will get you to the stadium and keep an eye on you.”

Sloane looked equally annoyed as Eric, the both of them keeping their mouths shut. 

“I left you a care package in your office,” said Dean with a smile. “If you don’t want to wear my jersey that is.”

“I think I might be inclined. Wouldn’t want people thinking we’re together or anything.”

“Pft. God no,” he teased, Eric rolling his eyes. Dean kissed you quickly before going to Eric, throwing his arm over his shoulders. “Come on, buddy. You can help me pick out my outfit to walk into the stadium. Now I’m thinking a Princess of Pop tour t-shirt…”

Eric sighed as they headed out, the door closing softly behind them. 

“You can go back to your morning coffee,” you said, Sloane picking up a black mug on the island. You held yours with both hands, sipping slowly.

“Why did you want me to stay here?” she asked, a little cold for your liking.

“Because I want to talk to you alone,” you said, going to the backdoor, opening the slider. You motioned and she followed with her mug, the two of you sitting in the early dusk light on the patio. 

“You will never convince me to forgive Eric so don’t even try.”

“I wasn’t going to.” You felt her stare but resisted the urge to look at her. “I could tell you how he has regrets and guilt and he believes you’re so much better at the job than him but you already know that. I know you don’t care. All I wanted to say was…I understand loving someone so completely and then they hurt you in a way that, even though you still love them, it’ll never be the same. There will always be pain there. And you want to stop loving them or you want to find a way to forgive, one or the other but you fucking can’t and it just…sucks.”

You sat in silence for a minute, only the sound of a few coffee slurps in the cool morning air before Sloane finally drew a deep breath.

“I know you’ll understand this because you’re a strong woman. Not the way I know how to deal with weapons or threats but you’re strong. You built a goddamn empire by yourself and you get rid of the shitheads without a second glance. I know you’re like Dean in a way too and yet you keep on going.” You turned your head, the tip of her nose pink in the soft light, a glimmer of wetness in her eyes. “Sometimes you don’t want to be strong. You just want your person to be there and hold you and make you feel safe and like you can fall apart. I know you understand that because I see your face when you’re with Dean and I see how no one will ever be able to protect you the way Dean will.”

You nodded, reaching over to her chair and holding her cold hand.

“I was so hurt and I just needed Eric to sit there and hold me. It’s all I needed and he couldn’t do it. He was so caught up in his own guilt, which it wasn’t his fault we had bad intel in the first place which he fucking knows, but he was so wrapped up in his head he couldn’t be there for me. He couldn’t see past his pain and see that I needed him more in that moment. Could you imagine the worst day of your life and Dean is right there, ten feet away, and he won’t come to you? All you want is him and he leaves you on your own?”

“Men are idiots,” you said quietly, Sloane laughing dryly.

“Fucking preach,” she sniffled, closing her eyes. “And then he got me fired. I understand why, I fucking do because in his fucking little moronic man brain that was how he stopped me from getting hurt ever again. But all he did was made me lose the two things I was fucking good at, fucking loved, in the span of a week. He made decisions about my life for me and that is not okay.”

“Eric’s been known to be a fucking idiot on occassion,” you said, offering a smile. She nodded, breathing deeply to look out over the yard. “Why do you two keep screaming at each other?”

“He tries to apologize and I don’t want to hear it. It will never be good enough. He stole a part of my soul and it’s never coming back,” she whispered. “The worst part is I look at him and I still love him. But I know what he’s capable of and I won’t do that to myself again.”

You rubbed the back of her hand, Sloane smiling over at you. “Dean and I are getting serious. There’s a chance…real serious. Someday our security might not be so separate anymore. I want you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“Eric’s soul is fucked up too and I’d love nothing more than to see you two somehow work it out. But if you never did and if it hurts too much, I want you to tell me and we will find a way where you two will never interact. You will not lose your job because I am dating your protectee and you have the shitty luck of your sort of ex being my guard. I promise.” Sloane watched you, nodding her head.

“I see why Dean’s in love with you,” she said. “You are tenacious under that sweet little pop princess guise.”

“Wolf in sheep’s clothing,” you said. “Kinda like you. I bet you know how to fuck people up big time.”

“Oh yeah,” she laughed, taking a sip from her drink. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for being decent.” You closed your eyes, yawning loudly instead. “There’s some spare rooms at the far end of the house. You can pick one for if you stay over again, keep some personal things there.”

She nodded, neither of you saying a word for a good ten minutes as you watched the sun slowly try to poke it’s head out over the trees.

“Would you be able to forgive Dean if he did what Eric had?” Her voice was small, unsure. You finished off your coffee, resting the ceramic against your bare thigh. 

“Sloane.” You waited until she was looking at you, a slight crinkle in her forehead. “Eric was a fucking asshole for what he did. But I know how protective of me he is. Seeing you hurt and him thinking it was his fault? It broke him. He probably wanted you to hold him in that moment as much as you wanted it except he hated himself so much he ran. It was the wrong move but he can’t change it. Let him go or find a way to forgive him.”

You stood up, stretching up on your tip toes.

“Come on, no more silly men talk,” you said, taking her hand and yanking her up. “Let’s go pick out our outfits for the game.”

“Uh, what?” she asked, letting you tug her along after you.

“You’re sitting with me in the box. You think I’m going to meet my boyfriend's family for the first time by myself? No way. You’re protecting my ass today and that includes awkward situations.”

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” she sighed.

You showed up to the stadium after an early lunch with Sloane. It’d taken a bit of work to get her to talk about anything besides security protocols but she’d warmed up to you by the time the morning was through. 

Offering her chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast hadn’t hurt either.

And you absolutely loved your surprise from Dean. It was an old school letter man jacket for the Wolves. Original. You didn’t even want to know how much he’d paid for it.

Eric had texted multiple times that Dean was annoying the shit out of him but you had a feeling they were starting to become friends when Dean texted that he was leaving you for his new bestie Eric.

Y/N: Cool with me. You take Eric. I got dibs on Sloane. She’s actually hot when you get her out of that awful pantsuit.

Dean: YOU GOT HER TO CHANGE??? I’ve been trying for years! Also, no. I get both of them. Throuple all the way

Y/N: You want to be in a throuple with those two? We should check you for a concussion babe.

Dean: Good call. I’ll settle for you. 

Y/N: Settle? And I wore my new jacket and everything for you!

Dean: Well you didn’t say that lol. Btw I told Eric he doesn’t have to hang out with me all day. I’m in the locker room, nice and safe. Shockingly, he didn’t listen to me.

Y/N: That’s cause he gets paid to listen to me, not you. 

Dean: Why does that not surprise me? I have to run to a team meeting and then prep. Have fun and I’ll see you after the game to make our cake for Max! 

Y/N: Be safe!

Dean: I’ll do my best!

“Are you ready?” asked Sloane as you crowded into a service elevator. You hummed, shoving your phone in your shorts pocket, taking a deep breath. “His parents are kind people. I wouldn’t be nervous.”

“Force of habit,” you said, Sloane raising an eyebrow but she didn’t say anything else. Honestly there was no way it was going to be more awkward than when your parents showed up for a few days tomorrow. They always visited for Max’s birthday week but they didn’t talk about him and instead spent most of the time going out to eat, shopping or hanging out in your pool.

Ironically, it was great for your creativity when you were forced to hide away in the studio for days on end to escape the tension. Last year you’d written three songs in the span of four days. One of them was still in the top forty nearly six months after it’s release.

“The Winchesters live in LA. Perhaps if things go smoothly, the parents can meet when yours get in,” said Sloane. You raised an eyebrow.

“That’s a little fast to introduce them to each other, don’t you think?”

“Just a thought,” she hummed, clasping her hands behind her back as the door opened. The hallway was sparse, a thick lump in your throat when you walked past some people in the corridor and got stares. “I’m not the only security on this floor.”

“I wasn’t worried about that.”

“I know. Stating a fact simply,” she said, stopping outside a gray door with a number 15 on it. You readied yourself and slipped inside, finding around a dozen or so people inside already. 

“Hey!” said a young woman, probably college age if you had to guess. “I’m making margaritas. You guys want one?”

“On duty, Casey,” said Sloane, the woman’s bright blue eyes turning to you. 

“Uh sure,” you said, Casey shooting you a thumbs up and grabbing another red cup from where she worked at the back counter. 

“Benny’s youngest sister,” said Sloane in your ear as you gave a few nods and smiles to people who caught your eye but returned their attention to their own conversations quickly enough. All the while Sloane was giving you the play by play of who they were. 

Apparently Benny had a pretty big family. It wasn’t until you even made it past the food and drinks to the seats that you made it through all of them. Which meant the lone couple already in seats in the front row must have been Dean’s parents.

“You must be Y/N!” said an older blonde, shooting up from her seat and climbing the steps. She wrapped you up in a big hug, surprising you so much you just stood there. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Dean’s mom. We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Don’t run her off yet, Mary. Dean’ll kill us,” teased an older handsome man. It was quiet obvious where Dean’s good looks came from. He picked you up in a bone crushing hug, squeezing you tight. “Hey, kiddo. I’m John.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said as he set you down on your feet. “Dean gets his hugs from you guys it seems.”

“We’re big huggers,” said Mary, Sloane saying a quick hello to them both before taking a seat in the second row beside one of Benny’s uncles. “I am so sorry I scared you. You must get that a lot.”

“No, you’re fine. I just wasn’t expecting it,” you said, rubbing your left arm, glancing at the field. “Watching the game from up here is cool, huh?”

“Sure,” said John, his tone making you look back at him. His dark eyes were relaxed, sympathetic almost. “The cameras will be on our box probably more than once to catch a glimpse of you. Try to relax and have fun.”

“What John is trying to say is,” said Mary, taking both your hands in hers, “We are really happy to meet you. Dean’s always carried a guilt inside of him and we’ve seen that ease over the past month. We know it’s because of you that he’s finally allowing himself to be happy again. So thank you.”

“He makes me happy too,” you said quietly, offering her a small smile. John threw his arm over your shoulders, your head turning up. 

“Good. So stop being nervous and let’s have some of those margaritas to get to know each other over, okay?”

It was the end of the fourth quarter, the two minute warning ongoing and the Wolves were up by two touchdowns. And as much fun as you had watching Dean play, you’d spent the better part of the game talking with his parents. You already liked John when he asked what you did for a living and asked if you were hoping to make a career out of music. While he was silly, Mary was a complete mother hen over you, always making sure you had enough to eat and drink. It was refreshing to hear them talk about Sam openly. Max was such a touchy subject in your family but they were practically giddy telling you about how Sam had mercilessly teased Dean about the girl in the orange sneakers. 

“That boy is looking down laughing his fucking ass off at his brother that he was right about it taking a decade to land a girl like you,” laughed John. 

“C-Can I ask you guys a personal question?” They both turned in their seats, giving you their full attention. “Why did…when you don’t have a concrete answer…how’d you decide to say he was…”

“We understand,” said Mary, taking your hand. “Honestly? We took a look at the facts and the evidence we had about what happened to Sam. We understood most likely which ring took him and after a certain age, we know what they do to those boys. So we won’t ever know for sure but we know all we’ll ever be able to and those facts told us Sam’s not here anymore.”

“It wasn’t an easy decision but it’s one we decided as a family. Dean doesn’t agree with us but we respect his choice too. It wasn’t so much about having a funeral for us but more symbolic, an attempt for us to stop living in a grieving limbo and turn Sam’s life into a celebration for the time he was with us,” said John. You nodded, swallowing thickly as you glanced down. John rubbed your back, his heavy hand comforting. “Whatever choice your parents made, it was not an easy one.”

“They won’t talk about him anymore,” you whispered. “S’like Max didn’t exist.”

“The pain is excruciating,” he said. “Don’t blame them for trying to ease it. For a very long time Dean only talked about Sam to a few people. But even if they won’t, it doesn’t mean you can’t. We’d like to know about Max if you ever wanted to share.”

You smiled and nodded, getting a side hug from Mary as the last of the game clock ticked away. 

“We weren’t so bad, were we?” asked Mary, John chuckling deeply beside you.

“I think Y/N’s put up with tougher shit than the two of us,” he laughed. “But it was very nice to meet orange sneaker girl finally.”

“You guys were great. I’d like to have you over for dinner sometime when we figure out a day that works,” you said, Sloane tapping your shoulder. 

“We need to go downstairs before there’s too many people out there. Now,” she said. You stood up, surprised to find John right behind you. “John-”

“I’m an ex-soldier just like you. If you have a problem with me going with you, you can respectfully kiss my ass, Sloane.” You turned to Mary, an apologetic smile on her face.

“I can’t say I disagree with him going,” she said, Sloane rolling her eyes. 

“Fine. Cover her behind,” said Sloane, quickly jogging up the steps. You said quick goodbyes to Benny’s family and were out in the now crowded hall, Sloane barking orders at five different security guards that were by the door.

“I’m sorry. I should have brought my team,” you said even though no one responded. Except for John that was.

“We can blame the fucking broadcast network for alerting everyone to exactly where you were,” he said, putting his hands on your shoulders, walking behind you. Thankfully you got through the hoard of people quickly and to the service elevator, John slipping inside with you and Sloane.

“So this is one of the perks of being a celebrity,” said John as he took in the grimy elevator. 

“You don’t really get used to it,” you said, John crossing his arms. 

“Yeah, you’re too sweet a kid to actually like that shit,” he said, the door dinging and opening slowly. You followed Sloane out, John still on your heels much to her annoyance. “What?”

“What the fuck is happening?” snapped Eric as you rounded a corner, quickly getting in Sloane’s face. “You took her out of a secure room with fucking rent a cops?”

“Don’t you fucking start,” she shot back, John looking to you.

“It’s not you she’s pissed at,” you whispered, stepping between the two of them in a service hallway. “Fight later. I want to see Dean and I would like it if one of you could go back upstairs and escort Mary out of the box please.”

“You should have waited for me, Sloane,” growled Eric, grabbing your arm roughly, yanking you to his side. “Do as she asked and we need to have a serious discussion regarding Y/N’s safety if-”

“First off, stop fucking hurting me,” you said, ripping your arm away, Eric spotting the growning bruise and frowning. “Second, our security protocol says as long as we have two trained agents, we can use readily available security to move me. John is an ex-marine, like you, so Sloane was perfectly fine to move me. I was not in any danger. Now one of you please go get Mary.”

“I’ll go. She doesn’t know him,” said Sloane, bumping him on her way back to the elevator. Eric closed his eyes and sighed.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I just-”

“I know. It wasn’t normal. We’ll bring the team from now on,” you said, waving a hand forward. “Let’s go.”

John leaned down to your ear, the two of you following after Eric. “Are these the two that are in love?”

You hummed, John chuckling.

“Five bucks they end up fucking by the end of November.”

“October,” you said, John extending his hand and shaking yours. 

“You’re on pop princess,” he teased, Eric gritting his teeth as he opened a door to reveal more people. It looked like some family members were hanging out in the hall and about twenty minutes later a door popped open, a few players walking out, Dean one of them. 

“Hey!” he said, rushing over and picking you up in a spinning hug. “Did you have a good time? Were my parents okay?”

“Oh they were awful,” you said as you turned towards John.

“She’s terrible, truly terrible,” said John, not even able to hide his laugh. “Of course we like her you idiot. You think we were going to waterboard her or something?”

“No, just…shut up,” said Dean, pecking a kiss on your lips, the smell of pine in the air from his very recent shower. “I’m glad you guys got along.”

“I invited your parents to dinner sometime,” you said, Dean happy to hear that. 

He had to run off to a post-game interview which gave Sloane enough time to bring Mary down. You chatted with them more while you waited, Eric and Sloane choosing to spend the time by watching opposite ends of the hall. It was another twenty minutes before Dean returned and he gave both his parents big hugs, catching up with them for a few minutes. 

Finally after what seemed like another half hour, you were alone with Dean in his SUV, the two of you headed for home.

“So how’d it really go with my parents?” he asked, talking hold of your hand across the center console. You smiled out the window, his large thumb running over the back of your hand.

“They’re good people.” You tilted your head against the glass, closing your eyes. “I’m jealous.”

“We can share,” he said quietly.

“I’d like that.”

One Hour Later

The kitchen was an absolute mess. Cake mix covered nearly every surface, including you and Dean. Someone, Dean, hadn’t locked the head on the mixer. That someone had also turned it on full blast and absolutely whipped every single ingredient in the bowl out in a ten foot radius.

And you were laughing so hard looking at his chocolate covered face you were hit with the realization you hadn’t laughed on Max’s birthday in over a decade.

Dean was giggling as you stopped, concern filling his eyes when you stepped forward. “Hey, what’s-”

You grabbed his wet cheeks and planted a harsh kiss on him, Dean backing up against the fridge, letting you move you lips roughly against his. It wasn’t gentle. It was needy, Dean’s hands wrapping around your waist, holding your body to his.

You breathed hard when you felt light headed, Dean panting when he stared down. 

“You’re mine,” you said, grasping his chin. He nodded, his warm breath pooling over your face. “Come wash up with me.”

“After you, sweetheart.”

It took another two hours but you finally had clean bodies, a clean kitchen, and a frosted chocolate cake sat on the island. Dean worked on slicing you each up a piece as you finished with a simple pasta dish for dinner, all the while your heart hammered in your chest. Something felt different. A good different. Like you weren’t so afraid of moving so fast anymore.

You carried the pasta and dessert into your dining room, settling in at your usual spot, Dean sitting beside you at the head of the table.

“Happy birthday, Max, wherever you are,” said Dean, rising his glass of wine, clinking it to yours when you smiled. 

“I’m going to keep you, you know,” you said to him, Dean smirking. “Sweet boy.”

“Lucky me,” he said, leaning over, kissing you sweetly for the briefest of moments. 

“Me too, Dean.”

??? POV

“The Wolves keep this up and they’ll be a shoo in for the playoffs,” said Sebastian as he spoke on the phone to his brother, watching sports center late that night. I set his beer down on a coaster on the end table, taking away the empty. “One sec.”

He covered the phone with his hand, glancing up at me.

“Is Cecilia’s lunch prepared for tomorrow?”

“Yes sir. Soccer uniform is also washed and ready in her sports bag,” I said, Sebastian nodding in approval.

“Good. Take care of that and you’re excused for the rest of the night.” 

“Yes sir,” I said, nodding before leaving him in his man cave and heading for the kitchen. I had just finished rinsing out the bottle when I heard soft footsteps enter, the fridge door opening.

“Is dad still on the phone?” asked the young voice, shutting the door with a sigh.

“Yes, Miss Cecilia,” I said, drying off the bottle and placing it in the recycling bin under the sink. “Would you like me to prepare you anything?”

“No. I just want some chocolate,” she said, opening the pantry and grabbing a fistful of dove chocolate squares. “Want one?”

“No thank you,” I said. 

“Well if you had a period, you’d want one too,” she said, tearing off the wrapper and popping a whole one in her mouth. “I can’t believe I have to deal with fucking cramps for the next thirty years. Minimum.”

“Language,” said Sebastian, walking in, finally off the phone. “And don’t discuss your menstruation with other people. It’s not classy.”

“Don’t even start,” she said to him, taking a permission slip out of her pocket. “Can you sign the stupid thing already?”

I attempted to leave but Sebastian held up a hand, my feet planting firmly in place. “I think you’re too young to be going on a week long trip.”

“I’m fourteen, dad. My body is literally, as we speak, expelling shit from me because there isn’t a baby in there. So I’m old enough to make human life but not go on a fucking school trip?” she asked. Sebatian looked at me and I wished I could run away. I knew how this would fucking end.

“Wouldn’t you agree fourteen is too young to go?” he asked. I didn’t even hesitate.

“Yes sir. Miss Cecilia will have plenty of other opportunities to travel when she is older,” I said. Sebastian crossed his arms at his daughter. Cecilia responded by twitching her eye in rage.

That was one of the reasons I liked that kid. She didn’t give two fucks how rich and powerful her father was. 

“You did this same exact thing when you said I could go to the Y/N Y/L/N concert in the summer and then you turned around and said I couldn’t! Stop talking out of both sides of your mouth.”

“Excuse me?” said Sebastian, raising his voice. “You went to that fucking concert with all your little friends. VIP tickets I paid for if I recall.”

“You said I could go by myself and then my fucking dad shows up-”

“I was not letting a group of six barely teenagers go to a concert by themselves.”

“Your security was with us! It’s not like we were alone!” She shot back.

“You are still too young-”

“Asshole!” she shouted, grabbing the paper and throwing one of the chocolates at his face. “I’ll get mom to sign it when I’m at her house then.” She stormed off and upstairs, slamming doors as she went. 

“Be glad you don’t have a fucking hormonal teenage daughter,” sighed Sebastian, picking up the chocolate and tossing it to me. “Retire to your quarters for the night.”

“Yes sir,” I said, going to the pantry and putting the chocolate away. 

“Go on,” he said, my head whipping over my shoulder. “You can have one for putting up with her bullshit.”

“Thank you sir,” I said, grasping two in the bag, hiding them in my fist as I pulled it out. I left him in the kitchen before heading through the butler’s pantry and to a plain door. I entered the room with two double beds, nightstands, a desk and bookshelf. I bypassed the door to the bathroom and headed for the closet, stepping inside and shutting the one after myself.

I sighed and went to the door on the far side, opening it and stepping into the open room. I shut this door too and ripped off the fucking tie around my neck. “I hate that motherfucking asshole.”

“Not going to disagree.” I sat down on the twin mattress beside my sole friend in this god awful place. His head was buried in a book, one he must have read fifteen times by now. “I made stew. Ready to eat whenever you are.”

“Let me wash up quick.” I shoved the chocolates under my pillow and grabbed a pile of semi-clean clothes, going to the corner of the room and pulling the curtain shut of our makeshift bathroom. My shower was fast like it always was and in five minutes I was changed into sweats and a t-shirt, walking barefoot against the cool concrete over to the table where a camping stove housed our stew in a pot.

“So how was your day dear?” he joked as my stomach grumbled at the smell. 

“Oh just lovely,” I said, dishing us each up half into a bowl, carrying them over along with a pair of spoons. “Here.”

“Thanks,” he said, putting his book aside before taking the bowl, setting it on the floor in front of him.

“Hey,” I said before he could start eating. I reached under my pillow and grabbed the chocolates, holding them out to him, his eyes wide. “Don’t worry. I had permission. Well for one but I figured I could get away with it.”

“I haven’t had chocolate in fucking forever,” he said as I dropped them in his hand, his free one instantly grabbing my wrist and shoving one back in mine. “We share. You haven’t had it in forever either.”

I nodded, each of us quickly eating our dinner before unwrapping our dessert, clinking them together with a quiet laugh. “It’s not much but-”

“Thanks, Sam. It’s great,” he said, taking a small nibble, savoring it. “Really fucking great.”

“Happy birthday, Max,” I said, biting into my own, enjoying the first rush of sugar in ages. We ate in silence, finished much too soon. I took care of the dishes and joined Max again, a strange little smile on his face. “What’s that look for?”

“Did you see any of the Wolves game today?” he asked. 

“Just a little at the end. Why, Dean get a touchdown again or something?” I asked, Max smirking. “What?”

“My sister was at the game. Apparently she and Dean are fucking dating.” My eyes went wide, Max nodding. “They’re together. Isn’t that some kind of twist of fate or some shit?”

A spark of an idea shot through me. It was barely there but shit it was the first good idea I’d had in years on how to get out of this fucking shithole.

“What are you scheming?” asked Max quietly, even if this was the one room in this whole house where there were no cameras, the one room where security wasn’t constantly watching us. 

We’d learned too many fucking times over the past decade that any of our escape attempts were dead on arrival. We knew we needed outside help and while we’d contemplated enlisting Ceclia knowing she’d be revolted enough by learning the truth about her father to help, it was too dangerous.

The last time we attempted an escape was seven years ago and we both still had the scars on our backs to remind us.

But if we could somehow reach out to our siblings…they were now rich and powerful enough to not be completely endangered themselves. 

“Cecilia’s pissed at fuckface,” I said.

“What else is new?” asked Max as I shook my head.

“She’s extra pissed and still salty about the concert thing. Now we know fuckface is a huge fan of the Wolves and Cecilia is a big fan of your sister…we gotta find a way to get my brother and your sister here, like a party or some shit.”

“My sister doesn’t go to shit unless it’s for charity,” said Max. “According to Ceclia at least.”

“We gotta try Maxie. If we can get Dean and Y/N here at this house…we can find them and get the fuck out of dodge. But I know if we fuck this up-”

“We’re getting buried in the woods out back,” said Max, nodding once, knowing we had one last chance at this. He smiled though. We were both sick of living this way enough to take that risk. “Let’s fucking do it. Let’s get a game plan and get the fuck out of here.”

“Hell fucking yeah we are.”

___________

A/N: Read Part 5 here!

[lindszeppelin]

Hi Linds!

I’m stopping by for a little ramble about one of the details that has emerged in the TIFF sitch: that Kaia and Corey call each other soulmates.

I have some thoughts.

I can genuinely think of no scenario where saying that seriously while hanging on each other is okay if you are in a happy, committed relationship. The only way it might possibly be kosher is if there was a little joking “Sorry Austin! I’m just kidding!” from one or both of them as if they knew they were just making a huge fun deal of their fabulous friendship.

Like if Will Ferrell was on a red carpet with Kristin Wiig and said that… everyone would know they were playing up and joking as part of their schtick. No one would even wonder if they were, in fact, more than friends. Or if they were in a serious interview and said something like that, they might say they were “comedy soulmates” to indicate how much they click professionally. And it would be harmless and everyone would know what they meant and that no one was a threat to anyone’s partner.

But let’s pretend for a sec that Austin and K are still a couple (🤣🤣🤣 I can barely even consider it but let’s give it a shot for the sake od conversation). While Austin would not be threatened by such a display, he seems like the kind of man who would want to make it very clear publicly that he fully supported his partner in her big movie premiere.

He would have been quite visible, I believe, in cheering her on in the run up to TIFF, including those miserable forced pap walks we got all through NYC last month. He would have taken that opportunity to make it obvious he’s her guy with smiles and hugs and easy interaction between them. Instead we got endless photos of him scrolling on his phone, hiding under trucker hats, seething with annoyance at the paps, and generally demonstrating complete disinterest and at times even contempt for her. And let’s not even talk about the birthdays! 🙄

If he were involved and participating (willingly) in her life AT ALL, then there would have been a totally different catalog of photos from that time, along with be mentions of him during her SNL press and possibly even comments from him on social media — even while filming — or at least indicators that he is checked into her “big” Hollywood moment.

But ain’t none of that happening!

Because he does not give a flying fuck about her. I think he’s off living his best creative life (with personal happiness on the horizon) and her toxic bullshit in the rear view and getting smaller by the minute.

I can understand why average folks who don’t follow this stuff might not see any red flags here or even notice it. But if you have paid attention to Austin ever, it’s so glaringly obvious that they are no longer together because even she — stage five clinger/leech that she is — is going to lengths to distance herself from the situationship.

I can’t wait to officially celebrate what I believe to already be true: that Austin is racing 180 degrees in the opposite direction from this unpleasant chapter.

Until then, I’m gonna alternate between enjoying the unfolding developments and completely ignoring them. Lol

🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿🍿

Love, MJ

PS. I feel compelled to say that I hope (but do not expect) this girl will get thousands of hours of therapy to get her shit together, because she is extremely unwell on several levels. I do not feel any glee over her vivid decline. But I also don’t feel sorry for her. Nothing but good would come from her seeking qualified professional help, but I doubt that’s the route she’ll take.

Hi again my friend!

There truly is no scenario in which calling another man your soulmate is appropriate when you're with a guy. Of course, this is a PRship we're talking about and Kaia never loved Austin or had genuine care for him in the first place. So long as Austin was the thing that made her in the headlines and gave her good press that was all fine with her. Her disregard for his feelings and him as a person is obvious. And same from him to her. I think he cared for her in the beginning, he's not someone devoid of care like she is. But he soon realized how despicable of a person she is. Which is why he clearly doesn't give a shit if she makes out with her friends of if she calls Corey her soulmate, because he has no regard for her or her feelings either.

Just goes to show that Kaia is distancing herself from Austin, and he from her in return. Calling another man her soulmate, the love of her life, touching him on the carpet, flirting with him, pressing her entire front into his body without a care, and saying "your parents" to ham fuel the people talking about them online...all point to one thing. The end lol

[toujokaname]

Evanescent / Episode 7

Characters: Rinne, Niki, Kohaku, HiMERU  

"This is a special, one-night-only festival revelry. Let us dance the night away together ♪"

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[ Read on my site for a better viewing experience using Ois~su ♪ ]

Season: Spring

Location: Ephemeral Festival Stage

Rinne: "GYAHAHAHAHA! BIG! EX! PLOSION! ☆ You bastards went and threw yourselves a nice little festival without us, didn't ya?!"

"Crazy:B's like a swarm of bees, and worker bees who forget their duties? They're in for one hell of a sting to jolt 'em back to life! ♪"

Niki: Nahaha, though rather than a 'sting', it's more of a 'boooom'? If that doesn't wake you up, you're a real deep sleeper ♪

Kohaku: Cough... Cough?! What the hell're y'all doin', bustin' in here outta nowhere?!

Right when we had everythin' wrapped up all neat and tidy...

Rinne: I don't like you talking 'bout PBB like it was some warm, fuzzy memory!

Spouting crap like, "oh, workin' as PBB was so fun," or, "life with Merumeru wasn't half bad," with that satisfied look on your face.

You weren't really thinking sweet little thoughts like that, huh, Kohaku-chan?

If you were hoping to brush it all under the rug and tie everything together with a pretty ribbon, I'll rip that plan to shreds for ya!

Kohaku: Quit screwin' around—I'll knock ya clean out! Nobody asked ya to pull some crazy stunt like that!

Aghh... Thanks a lot, Rinne-han. There go all our honest appeals right down the drain.

Just look at HiMERU-han. He's been standin' there in shock, ain't said a word this whole time.

HiMERU: —No. It simply was becoming too much of a hassle, so HiMERU thought it best to remain silent and wait it out.

Kohaku: Wait it out? There ain't no way you can do that. This stage belongs to me and you, HiMERU-han.

HiMERU: Fufu, it was just a joke. If HiMERU doesn't at least make a joke out of it, he wouldn't be able to bear it.

Niki: HiMERU-kun, are you, like... pissed off for real now?

HiMERU: Haha, no, not at all. HiMERU is perfectly composed. After all, no professional idol would disgrace themselves on stage.

Kohaku: ...I'm pretty sure it's already too late for that.

HiMERU: Besides, this is Amagi we're talking about. Obviously, you didn't just barge in without giving it any thought, right?

Rinne: Uh, nah? I just didn't like that you guys were having your festival fun without me, so I showed up to ruin it for ya.

HiMERU: ...What.

Niki: Whoa, for real?! What's wrong with this guy?! Then what was with that cryptic attitude earlier?!

I always thought you were bad news, but I didn't think you were this far gone!

Rinne: Just so you know, you're part of the bad guys too, Niki. Don't forget it.

Niki: You're the one who forced me into this whole mess! So I'm innocent!

HiMERU: .........

Niki: Uuugh, HiMERU-kun's at a loss for words... I'm scared...

Rinne: C'mon, chill out, Merumeru. I'm a great idol too, y'know. I wasn't planning to just wreck the place and leave with all these fans watching.

Kohaku: It's already completely in shambles, though, ain't it?

Rinne: Hell, that kinda chaos is exactly what Crazy:B's all about ♪

Crazy:B was always meant to be a swarm of venomous bees, sneaking into a pristine flower garden just to screw shit up.

Basically, we're just here to stir up trouble at PBB's stage, carrying the bomb of internal strife among our group.

HiMERU: ...Hm. So, you didn't rush in thoughtlessly after all.

That said. It's been quite a while since you've hijacked another unit's performance...

Niki: Uh, so... what's this mean, exactly?

HiMERU: In short, Amagi intends to turn this stage into a Crazy:B show from here on out.

Kohaku: Then why the hell didn't ya say that from the get-go?! You didn't need to fire off a goddamn bazooka, dumbass!

Ugh... But then again... This is how Crazy:B's always been.

HiMERU: —It would be preferable to disagree, but Oukawa is right.

It seems that even HiMERU, after living a peaceful life as PBB, had begun to forget how much of a nuisance you all are.

But since PBB is going on hiatus after today, perhaps it's time he gets back in shape and remembers how to deal with these noisy bees.

Rinne: Gyahaha, now that's what I call Crazy:B's busy worker bee!

"Anyway. Kept you waiting, huh, folks! From this point on, it ain't PBB's show anymore—it's Crazy:B's time to shine!"

"'In Spring one sleeps, unaware of dawn.'[1] The dreamy air of early spring just makes you wanna sleep in—just like the wise folks of old used to say."

"All you suckers have been sinking deeper into your sweet PBB dream, but it's about time to wake up!"

"Evanescent dreams don't last till morning. And if there's any softie who wants to keep dreamin'..."

"We Crazy:B are here to sting you the hell awake ♪"

"♪~♪~♪"

Kohaku: "Koh koh koh. Remember this well, 'cause this is the Crazy:B I love."

"Sure, that peaceful time in PBB was nice and all, but I'd take doin' this kinda stupid shit with Crazy:B any day."

"They might be a buncha reckless jerks who hijack stages like this, but here with 'em—this is where I feel I truly belong."

Kohaku: "Now I'm fixin' to show everyone here just what makes Crazy:B so special, so y'all better brace yourselves!"

"♪~♪~♪"

Niki: "Nahaha! Kohaku-chan looks like he's having fun after all ♪"

"Maaan, when the whole venue went dead silent after that bazooka blast, I thought we were toast!"

"Oh well, I'll just go with the flow and hype up the crowd too~♪"

"♪~♪~♪"

HiMERU: "♪~♪~♪"

HiMERU: (Good grief. Everyone's just doing whatever they please. The detailed plan HiMERU crafted in advance is completely ruined.)

(Well, since that's broken beyond repair and they're making the stage more lively, there's no point dwelling on it.)

HiMERU: (Actually... "I" might have been hoping for this to happen, somewhere deep down.)

HiMERU: "—Well then, now that you've made a complete mess of things, you'd better make it worthwhile, Amagi, Shiina!"

"Everyone, Crazy:B's Ephemeral Festival is far from over."

"This is a special, one-night-only festival revelry. Let us dance the night away together ♪"

"♪~♪~♪"

[ ☆ ]

Rinne is quoting the poem Spring Dawn by Meng Haoran, one of the most celebrated Chinese poems in Japan. The opening line is a common saying, and interestingly, 春眠 is pronounced 'shunmin,' similar to how the story title would be pronounced 'shunsairei.'

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[official-nrc-prophet]

Someone's asking for a storm.

- Treykei <Trey x Cater> (My current religion)

- Jamil x Ruggie (in a more platonic, rather than romantic way bc I see both as "I'm not into romantic stuff"/Aromantic way. The definition of Partners in Crime)

- Ruggie x Jade (Also platonic. They're neat)

- Jade x Cater (I have no idea on what this ship is build. I don't know how I got to this ship. But the dynamic is interesting. Also platonic)

- Appletart 👏👏👏 <Riddle x Epel> (There's so much to work with, it's amazing)

- App 👏 le 👏 juice 👏 <Deuce x Epel> (Them. Just them. If you played Book 5 and still wonder why, you're an idiot)

- Floyd x Chenya (That's THE crack ship I'm supporting with my whole heart. Not necessarily in a romantic way but by hell itself, they've got the tea)

- Last but not least: FloRid. We had to mention it, there was no way I wouldn't have said them

(You're legally not allowed to disagree btw /j)

I give Trey and Cater a 7/10. It's backed by some Canon, they seem pretty close, Trey just seems like one of the only straight guy in Twisted Wonderland.

Jamil and Ruggie seem like they could relate to each other, though it seems like they mostly just like being little shits to Azul together.

Ruggie and Jade is out of nowhere to me, I guess they had that vignette but I don't see them getting along in anything but a professional sense.

Jade and Cater is a firm no from me. Weird.

Riddle and Epel makes me feel gross. Riddle has a lot of power over Epel, because he's a housewarden and Epel is a first year. Don't ship first years with housewardens!!!

Deuce and Epel is one that I can see, it seems pretty cool and simple. They have good chemistry and they're friends.

Floyd and Chenya are just friends. Floyd's a minor, I don't like shipping them with third years.

Gonna say it. I DONT LIKE FLORID. Not because people think it's abusive, it's not, but because I just don't see it. I don't want anyone trying to convince me otherwise, I don't like it.

[spookyrobbins]

callie is absolutely guilty for sleeping with him in s7, but mark was definitely sober enough to not be opportunistic and use her vulnerability to his advantage. the reality is that he did that more than once throughout their friendship. callie was just too happy to have the “hot” guy after her to notice or care. he’s a shitty friend and nobody can convince me otherwise. i’m still pissed they went that direction, cause it led to him being even more involved in their relationship than he already was. like idk but the older i get, the more i realize and understand just how toxic he was to everyone around him. grey’s thought they had something with their friendship and the co-parenting shit, but it’s just so gross looking back at it. and eric makes it worse. he can be just as gross.

also, did they ever really say how many times they slept together? the way they framed it kinda made me think it might’ve happened that night and the morning after before callie put a stop to it. like i don’t know if she had it in her to completely go back into a fwb with him after arizona. i think she realized quickly that it made her feel worse and that she missed her even more than before. it didn’t work for her anymore.

idk maybe i’m trying to give callie too much credit.

the whole bmoc aspect of mark for callie frankly is under discussed. we know that callie was at least somewhat awkward in high school (who wasn’t lol) and also seems to put a lot of weight/self worth into her relationships. she pursues (what i’d consider) “safe” relationships for the most part. george is this sort of dorky, awkward guy who should be safe and she’s out of his league so he should be happy to be with her. penny defs also falls into that category (plus the added aspect of the professional differences which is a whole other discussion point). erica was less safe bc she was a woman but she was also sort of safe in the way that callie was kind of her only friend at the hospital (erica openly says she doesn’t like most people but she likes callie). i think arizona was safe in a way for callie early on in part bc she was the one who initially pursued callie and then pursued her again after changing her mind. but also arizonas more complicated for callie in other ways

mark though, callie thinks mark is out of her league for a relationship. she thinks it’s fine to be friends or friends with benefit. but i don’t think she ever considered a romantic relationship in part bc she thinks mark is out of her league. mark on some level represents all those popular guys in high school who didn’t pay attention to her and she probably had a crush on one of them. but mark is her friend, he wants to have sex with her, he’s into her. and that validates a lot of things for callie.

and for mark, i kinda think it’s a bit high school too. he likes the idea of having this sort of permanent fwb who soothes his ego and reassures him that he’s a good person or something. it’s a bit like the hot football player stringing along the nerd in a way.

and to that end, i don’t think mark ever liked callie in relationships. maybe it’s just because he and lexie are broken up and he’s lonely, but whenever he’s single he’s significantly more involved in calzona and regularly needles at issues in their relationship (babies and africa most notably) like it goes beyond trying to offer callie advice, he actively prods at things.

which is all to say that i don’t think it’s out of the question at all that mark was more aware of what was going on that night. he was opportunistic. he liked having a fwb thing with callie. arizona wasn’t in the picture and callie wanted sex. and mark gets exactly what he wants

i’m really not sure how long they were hooking up. arizonas gone for what like 3ish episodes? and there aren’t tons of date markers in s7. if i had to guess, i’d say arizona was max gone for 4-6 weeks, minimum like 3 weeks. i don’t think it’s out of the question to go with mark and callie only hooking up twice. but i think you could also work it out with them hooking up over the course of a week or a few sporadically and callie’s never that into it but she wants to not be broken hearted and thinking about arizona even if it makes her feel worse. (plus i don’t think it’s out of the question to consider that callie was maybe subconsciously trying to punish arizona by sleeping with mark knowing of her insecurity there)

[m0nochromem0use]

tell me everything about monster of the week it sounds interesting i want a paragraph please please please

WONDERFUL monster of the week is a powered by the apocalypse ttrpg. that means it’s based off the monster of the week genre where there’s a different monster or antagonist for every arc (think buffy, supernatural, the x files) and the driving force behind every plot is the apocalypse (which can mean a bunch of different things, but usually translates to the monsters killing a whole bunch of people). the players are various types of monster hunters who have to work together to investigate the monster or antagonist of each arc, find their weakness, and then stop them from killing a whole bunch of people. you only use 2d6, and rolling works on a success, mixed success, or fail system- 1-6 is a fail and you don’t do what you wanted to do, 7-9 is a mixed success and you do what you wanted to do but there’s consequences or you only do some of what you wanted to do, and 10+ is a success and you get to do what you wanted exactly how you wanted to, sometimes with added bonuses. there’s a whole lot more mechanical stuff i could explain but it’s a very simple system especially compared to d&d, and it’s easy to find free pdfs of the rules online which i implore you to do if it interests you because it’s super fun!! it’s a mystery focused game so there’s a lot more roleplay and investigating than combat, which is part of the reason i like it so much lol. also, similar to call of cthulhu, the game master is called the keeper!

NOW what i was talking about in that post. the different types of monster hunters are the classes of this system, called playbooks. they’re what determines the skill sets, moves, and general vibe of each player character. some are professional or experienced investigators, some are magic users with funky powers, and a couple are straight up otherworldly beings or monsters themselves! i’m sticking to the classic playbooks and the playbooks from the tome of mysteries expansion for my picks for the jrwi boys, but there are also a ton of awesome homebrew playbooks out there. you can find a huge masterlist of them by just looking up “motw playbooks”. ANYWAYS here’s the playbooks that i think the jrwi guys would pick:

charlie

the mundane: charlie seems to love a good just some guy character and that’s literally what this playbook is. they have no special powers, no expertise on monster fighting, NOTHING they are just a dude. i think he’d find that extremely entertaining and also figure out a way to make it incredibly angsty

the initiate: basically a cult member and the closest thing you can get to being a warlock in motw, which was in my head because i listened to the suckening rolled earlier today and charlie mentioned how regardless of what setting he’s in in a game he’s always looking for a way to make a pact with something LMAO. the playbook also has a lot of built in dubious morality on the side of the cult, which i think he’d have fun with

the chosen: this one feels obvious, with how often he plays characters who are chosen ones. the chosen playbook also tends to be quite tanky, at least every time i’ve seen it played/played it, which i think he’d like. plus you get to customize your own weapon and i think he’d have fun making a sword that can kill god

grizzly

the gumshoe: a classic detective type. i honestly have no proper reasoning for thinking grizzly would pick this playbook but the vibes are right for some reason. i’m picturing arthur style brooding with a noir detective vibe, a juno steel type character yknow

the divine: in terms of aesthetics, this is rumi if she was a monster of the week character. the playbook comes with a cool divine weapon that does a shit ton of damage but the move set is geared way more towards support, and i think it’d be interesting to see grizzly play a support character

bizly

the crooked: bebo plays a lot of criminals what can i say. the crooked playbook has specific backgrounds, and i think he’d have fun with the charlatan or fixer options. this is also one that you can take in a much more cartoony direction if you want which i think suits him

the wronged: the thanatos of motw playbooks babeyyyy. the wronged is all about losing someone you cared about to a specific type of monster and dedicating your life to hunting them down. again, very thanatos, but a lot of bizly characters have the theme of searching for someone they lost or attempting to make up for not being able to save those people, which is one of the most common routes i see played with the wronged

the flake: the timothy rand of motw playbooks! bebo loves his paranoid conspiracy theorists! this one i picked because i think he’d find the move set funny there is a move that rewards you for doing the opposite of what someone advises you to do, and one that’s literally called crazy eyes. very chip very rand i think he’d have fun

condi

okay condi is the hard one because he doesn’t really have a “type” the way the other three do. i honestly think that out of all of them he could take any playbook and make a really interesting and character out of it. my top picks would be the spellslinger (cool magic user) the spooky (little freak), and the searcher (little freak but without supernatural influence), but more for vibes than anything. again i think he could pull off any playbook

thank you for coming to my extended monster of the week ted talk hope you enjoyed

[this-has-returned]

Dwarf Fortress x Deep Rock Galactic - Part 6 FINALE

The drop pod shook and shivered around the pair of dwarves, as it drilled deeper into the Hoxxes underground.

Truth be told, Thorn didn’t really like this at all. They didn’t like it when the idea was first presented, they didn’t like it when they had volunteered, they didn’t like it when the pod dropped (and Urist almost vomited in null-gravity), and they especially didn’t like being a babysitter for some clueless peck who brought a spear to a gunfight.

However, the gunner knew that Reiner would have done all the work, leaving Urist to immediately request another drop (probably with Bosco). Ulla, meanwhile, would have liked this less than Thorn did, and she really loved talking about technology to calm herself down. Urist, being from a time before electricity, would have eventually suffered an existential crisis, after listening to such a concentrated infodump for a whole mission.

To give the lad credit, though, he was due for a crisis any day now, but Ulla showing how his entire way of life was obsolete would have hastened its onset.

Donner, meanwhile...

Well, Donner was known do drink blood straight out of a Glyphid. He would tear each tooth out of a monster’s jaw before giving it a mercy kill. The man once used his drills to carve “Donner var här” into some green-soaked carapace. Honestly, at the end of the day, Thorn didn’t actually give a shit about Donner’s methods, at least not in the same way the other dwarves did. He still got the job done, after all. He always came back alive, and didn’t make Thorn’s job any harder than it needed to be.

They and Donner weren’t like the others, but one still sat opposite of the other. Donner was borderline-reckless, excessive, bloodthirsty, and maliciously-bored at times. Thorn, meanwhile, just couldn’t find the energy to care.

The alternative kind of care that they felt was more...algorithmic. It gave the same results as anything Reiner and Ulla could give, but Thorn’s version had specific steps. In some ways, the extra effort cost could mean that Thorn was a better friend, but there was still the problem of perceived emotional labor.

It was just a problem of energy. It was so hard to implement those mechanical steps all the time, when the incredible weight of drained energy followed every breath. Reiner and Ulla could have been superheroes, if they weren’t so incredibly typical in reality. It was hard to be impressed when someone demonstrated a trait that was simply intrinsic.

In the end, though, Thorn had neither interest nor energy to do the stuff that Donner was into. It just seemed to cross a line, somehow. Maybe the line wasn’t from ethics, exactly, but it was more like...honor? Professionalism?

Professionalism seemed more like it. Clearly, Donner knew what he shared with the gunner, and probably wondered why they didn’t make artwork out of corpses together. He was probably a few impulses short of asking Thorn out on a date, really. Ulla and Reiner knew how exhausting their social needs were, but it was particularly difficult to explain to the driller that there was no suppression, no bottling, and no holding back. They both simply lived two different experiences.

Thorn would be there to share notes with the guy (and keep him in line, sometimes), but the gunner preferred efficiency and sleep, over taking anger out on bug corpses. Hell, while Donner liked to bully Reiner and Ulla, Thorn enjoyed supporting them; it was just simply laborious.

It was this difference in approaches that compelled Thorn to volunteer. The black-bearded driller just couldn’t be trusted to keep his antics contained.

So, here was the gunner, watching the front door of the pod open, and sitting beside a giddy speardwarf.

A feckin’ speardwarf!

What would Thorn’s sister say, if she were here now? Well, she’d probably call them a “he”, to start, before going on for hours about how they keep taking the most “unnecessary” jobs.

“Why couldn’t you just be an accountant, Lukas?? You love math so much; why couldn’t you just do number stuff for a living? Why do you gotta go shoot stuff so much? Also, what kind of nickname is ‘Thorn’, anyway??”

She never understood that while plenty of people could stomach being an accountant, few could step into a battlefield with the same amount of routine apathy. Thorn wanted to kill bugs, if it meant someone else didn’t have to.

And Thorn wanted to escort a speardwarf, if it meant someone else didn’t have to.

But they didn’t have to enjoy it.

Urist was already running down the ramp, quickly recovering from null-gravity maneuver nausea.

“Okay, where are these pecks at??” he growled, though keeping his voice noticeably-quiet. “I’m here to deliver the pride of my mountainhome to their fucking throats!”

What would Karl say, if the legend saw Thorn now? Rotary cannon in two armored hands, while some dwarf from times-long-gone yipped and gnashed at the front, spear in one hand, and energy shield in the other?

“Alright, it’s a simple Morkite mission,” Klaus reminded both of them.

Urist twitched in surprise, forgetting how a communication headset worked. Thorn disembarked, and surveyed the surrounding space.

“Just grab the good stuff, dump it in the M.U.L.E., and get out,” continued mission control. “Don’t stick around for too long; the rare lack of bugs isn’t likely to last. Tick-tock, team.”

“We get a mule??” asked Urist eagerly. “Wow, with all the advances in technology, I was certain that those would have...oh!”

Molly had trotted up, and laid down on the stone beside Thorn, moments before the drop pod began thunderously pulling itself back up, through the ceiling, returning to the space rig.

The whole cavern was plunged into pitch-black, save for Molly’s headlight, and the gunner’s suit lights.

“It’s a machine-mule?” Urist asked, not even noticing the onset of darkness. “He got a name?”

“Aye,” said Thorn, “her name is Molly, and her needs are few and simple. She carries our rocks and stones, and occasionally hip-checks me off of raised ledges, so be careful when you call for her.”

“Hello, Molly,” Urist cooed, audibly patting her armor.

Molly squawked once in reply.

“She’s sort of a mascot, in a way,” Thorn explained, pulling a flare from their suit. The charging cord’s removal activated the light, which fed from a durable energy cell.

“Hey, what’s that for?” Urist asked, as the gunner tossed the flare to the ground.

“It’s...so we can see...? I feel like that should have been obvious,” Thorn replied.

“What, are you human?” scoffed the speardwarf. “Let the darkness guide you! My entire family could find a single chip of basalt in tunnels blacker than this one!”

Thorn blinked at him. “You’re pissing about, right? You know Reiner isn’t here to confirm or deny that, so you’re just telling me all sorts of shite, right? This is a joke?”

Urist raised his arms outward, baffled. “What? Why in the hell would I lie about that? Are you telling me that you actually cannot see in the dark? What kind of dwarf are you?? You have a human for a father? Reiner and the others can see in the dark, right? You got a condition, or something?”

Thorn was speechless for so long, that the flare started to fade.

“Urist, I swear on Karl’s name that I cannot see in the bloody darkness, and neither can Ulla, Reiner, Donner, or Klaus,” Thorn confirmed. “Does everyone from your world see in tunnels so black? Surely you bring lanterns, or...”

“Brother, I could turn off Molly’s light, extinguish your flare, and snuff out your suit lights, and see the opposite end of this whole bloody place,” Urist explained.

“First of all, I’m not your brother,” snapped Thorn. “Second, that’s absolutely feckin’ mad. Stay here, I’m calling you on your shite. Time to put your stones where your mouth is...”

Thorn picked up their dead flare, and plugged it back into their suit for recharging. After a few-dozen paces across the stone, they turned to face Urist.

“Molly, headlight off!” the gunner commanded, and Molly obeyed with an electronic whistle. After deactivating their own suit lights, the area was so unbelievably dark that a dreadnought could shamble past unnoticed.

“What are you two doing?” Klaus groaned over comms, probably startling Urist again, though nobody would see it.

“Stuff it, Klaus; we’re doing science,” snapped Thorn. “Right... Urist, I’m holding up some number of fingers. Can you count them from where you stand?”

“In a moment,” said Urist, eyes probably taking a moment to adjust. “Um... Four.”

Correct.

Thorn changed the number, and Urist guessed again. This process went back-and-forth for a while, as the gunner’s shock and surprise only grew.

“Two,” said Urist. “Five. Two. One. Three. Four. Okay, pal, that’s a rude way of indicating a one...”

“Fuck me in half,” muttered Thorn, reactivating their suit lights, and returning to Molly. “You can take away my dwarf license all you want, but I need lights and flares to see in the dark. You’ll just have to deal with it.”

<~+~><~+~><~+~>

Thorn was dumping their latest bucket of morkite shards into Molly’s collector, when Urist came waddling up, hefting a boulder of the stuff, probably half his own size.

“Woah, woah,” said the gunner. “That’s not fitting in Molly. You gotta at least crack it in half. She can fit some pretty large samples of jadiz and aquarq, but anything the size of an Ommoran is strapped to her back.”

“Oh,” he said, putting it on the ground. “That’s interesting. I’m really used to carving large chunks out; makes it easier to carry.”

“Aye,” Thorn nodded, tossing another flare against the wall. “But we have buckets with a standard size. You can actually maximize the carrying volume if you break things into chips first. Also, during a hazard-5, we will just chaotically whack bits off the walls, and scoop it up later. There’s no time to haul shite that big, when so many glyphics are nipping on your arse.”

They helped Urist break down the glass-like morkite, and get it loaded into the M.U.L.E.

“Good work, lads,” announced Klaus’ voice over comms. “That meets the morkite quota. Feel free to call the M.U.L.E. back in. Unlocking the button now.”

Molly’s rear collector swapped out for a button module, which Thorn pressed.

“That’s it, then?” asked Urist. “No bugs? Thought there would be at least one...”

“You’ll regret saying that out loud,” said mission control, “because there’s a rather large blip headed your way. It seems like the calm before the storm has finally ended. Lock and load, team!”

The Urist’s wild grin was almost contagious. The gunner tried to remain as stoic and deadpan as possible. On the inside, though, their heart started racing; an unfamiliar feeling. Time to see if the speardwarf could hold his own.

Thorn would try to cut down a lot of the horde first, of course, but there was a significant friendly-fire risk here.

Molly stood up suddenly, and her stake-launcher began setting blinking guide rods into the rocky floor, leading the pair back to the waiting drop pod, elsewhere in the cave system.

Glyphid shrieks echoed off the walls.

“Aye,”  chuckled Urist, “they sound like a mad lot. How many do you think are coming, based on what you heard?”

“Maybe a dozen?” Thorn shrugged. “Maybe twice that? I dunno. I need you to listen for low thuds, though; praetorians aren’t to be taken lightly. Those thuds could be an oppressor, too, in which case you’re standing behind me. Do I make myself clear?”

“Like glass, friend.” Urist saluted.

<~+~><~+~><~+~>

The team followed Molly’s trail of lights, until the nearby walls suddenly erupted with cracks and loose stones. Six glyphid grunts climbed into view, gnashing teeth and howling.

Urist made a low, guttural warcry, charging straight into them.

Right, Thorn realized. Maybe not the main gun right now, if he’s gonna do that.

They pulled out their sidearm, and began dropping bugs, making sure not to shoot the lightly-armored dwarf on accident. Three were down, while the rest moved to surround the speardwarf, making for riskier lines of fire.

The one on Urist’s right had more separation than the two on the left, so the speardwarf punished it for such a mistake. The shield repelled two attacks, while the spear used the impacts to thrust further into glyphid flesh, passing between carapace plates. Thorn blinked, realizing the advantages of such precision, especially in a well-trained hand.

The projected odds of survival were rising, at least.

Urist turned his attention to the last two, dodging a jaw, and stepping between the opponents. As before, he used positioning to drive the metal spear into the vulnerable parts of one foe, while the energy shield deflected the other. In a single smooth motion, the green-stained spear was ripped from one dying bug, and a spin carried the kinetic energy to impale the other.

This bug resisted death, and tried to get a few more opportunistic bites on Urist, who had it pinned at a safe distance. He had lodged the spear tip into the underside of a carapace plate, through the creature’s body.

Thorn jogged past. “Let’s go, speardwarf; drop pod won’t stick around forever.”

<~+~><~+~><~+~>

The tunnels opened up a bit more. A flare was tossed out, and the blinking arrows of the Molly’s stakes highlighted the way out...up a sheer cliff face.

“Can you climb?” asked Urist.

“No need,” the driller muttered, holstering their sidearm, and readying their zipline launcher. “Stand clear.”

Urist stepped aside, and the launcher—with a loud crack—buried one of the zipline stakes into the rock below, while the other sailed like a crossbow bolt, embedding itself into the far wall, above the lip of the cliff. The zipline lights illuminated the elevated area, which was already swarming with grunts, pouring in from two openings on either side of the wall. About two-dozen were already crawling down the cliff, and heading for the dwarves.

“Fuck. Get on, now!” Thorn barked, seconds from putting the speardwarf on the line themself. Urist obeyed, already on his way up.

Thorn laid down gunfire from their vehicle-grade rotary cannon. Impact forces cut some bugs in half, while others simply exploded into a pasty mist, and a few sailed through the air. The sound of the weapon roared like a hideous, unending thunderclap.

With the far side awash with green, and adorned with corpses, the gunner hopped onto the zipline to follow the speardwarf up.

But as the pile of bodies grew, the bugs clambered over the dead even faster, in an attempt to reach the dwarf. Eventually, the fiends succeeded, forming a hateful chain, and pulling Thorn off of the zipline.

Then something grabbed their ankle. Thorn kicked hard, and saw a second swarm, spilling out of the tunnel that the dwarves had just entered this area from. The gunner punished the biting arrivals with a few hundred rounds.

"Outta my way, peck!" the gunner barked.

“Fuck!” they shouted before hitting the stone ground below, and quickly drowning in nightmarish teeth. One arm was held over their head, as powerful jaws gnawed and warped the armor. The other arm searched desperately for the disk-shaped shield emitter, and a brief eternity passed until the fingers finally found it.

There was no room to drop it, so they push the button as soon as it was discovered. Instantly, a green shield of pulsewave energy erupted outward, warding away the screaming bugs.

The gunner saw red, and roared along with their mighty rotary cannon. Shards of carapace launched into the air, trailed by blood and shredded chunks of organ. All of it continued to rain down until the only movements left were from bullets impacting dead flesh, as Thorn ensured that everything was thoroughly ripped asunder by high-velocity jadiz rounds.

They turned to see what could have been the corpse of a poor speardward, but was amazed to see Urist not only surviving, but thriving.

Glyphid after glyphid was launched off the cliff, as each one repeatedly underestimated his traditional combat techniques. Some were getting back up, dazed, while others had chunks of brain fatally displaced by the spear’s entry. One glyphid had its bowels hanging out of a stab-wound-turned-laceration, but its twitching legs demanded audience for a rematch. Thorn put it down with a large sidearm round, and it plummeted, intestines landing about the limp corpse with wet splats, like a slimy wreath decorating a grave.

“Rock and Stone!” shouted the gunner, but the speardwarf did not respond between his fury of blocks, parries, evasions, and executions. He seemed to be in some kind of martial trance, and the world around him was simply an ongoing calculation of death.

He was fast, efficient, and...beautiful. Thorn had almost forgotten about the drop pod, and got back onto the zipline. They laid down assisting fire with the sidearm, but it really seemed like Urist had it handled.

Was this how Donner felt? The "rush"? Urist’s artwork-in-motion was neither excessive nor unnecessary, though; every lunge was maximized, every kill was calculated, and every placement of the shield did exactly what he needed most. Compared to Donner’s thrash metal, this was smooth jazz.

By time the gunner had arrived, nothing was left to eliminate. Urist’s breathing was heavy, and audible like an furious animal’s panting.

The two dwarves stood there; Thorn examined him, and he stared into the distant void. The gunner placed a gentle hand on his back, and slowly brought him back to the rock-and-gore surroundings. Finally, his eyes locked onto Thorn’s.

“Hey,” Thorn said, putting a hand on his shoulder, causing him to pause. “You need to teach me some things, once we get back on the space rig. That was...mesmerizing.”

“Aye,” huffed the speardwarf. “Rock and Stone, and all that. Let’s get outta here.”

Urist started to follow Molly's trail.

“Really?” Urist asked, still out of breath.

“Yeah,” the gunner nodded. “Reiner is insufferable, Donner is wasteful, and Ulla runs circles for hours. If I run outta ammo, I want to be able to fight like you.”

Urist seemed to zone out again, struggling stay grounded.

“Will you teach me?” asked Thorn, trying to bring him back.

“Uh,” stammered Urist. His eyes locked with the gunner’s again, sparkling in the light of the zipline lamp. “Sure, I suppose... I mean, I’m not much of a teacher, but I’ll happily try. It’s the... uh... it’s the least I can do, seeing as you let me come with, an’ all...”

“I’ll even throw in some extra drinks,” said Thorn. “You good to keep running?”

“Well, you’re certainly not carrying me,” Urist chuckled, breathlessly. “That’s for sure...”

Check out the infopage!

[notallwonder]

Watching the new episodes of Criminal Minds: Evolution again.

Under a Read More for those avoiding spoilers.

+ Point of clarification: did they retcon that JJ & Will never moved to New Orleans, or are we to believe they moved away then back at some point? -> answered in Ep 2 Will says "since we got back".

+ Garcia's "I used to be good at that" re: putting on English mannerisms made me smile bc callback to when Emily was at Interpol

+ Luke is a sweet sweet guy. I like him a lot, though to be honest I don't pay that much attention to him (because my attention is elsewhere *cough* Prentiss).

+ something really rubs me the wrong way about those "hers" antidepressant ads. They seem kind of creepy / dystopian?

+ I hope we get to know some of Penelope's new friends a bit.

+ it still really cracks me up that Garcia uses such tricked out GUIs on her computer. That shit takes up RAM and makes everything hard to see. Because computer nerd on (network) TV. But also, good for her.

+ the whole SOAR concept is too funny. No one born before the millennium has access besides PG? Does she code and maintain the whole thing all by herself (obvs not)? Are the engineers also only 22 and younger? (this would become a legal issue of ageism in hiring!) Also "unhackable"...so there's some kind of elaborate and potentially invasive verification system to prevent catfish accounts? Really. And once you age out of SOAR are you just thrown to the 30-50 feral hogs with the rest of us?

+ EMILY PRENTISS YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL GORGEOUS SHOWSTOPPING I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU

+ second time around I continue to appreciate AJ Cook's well muscled shoulders.

+ I'm very happy they got Zach Gilford for this role. Who knows if the writing will ultimately be good (lmao), but he has the range.

+ Director Noodle at it again, throwing a tantrum because Emily Prentiss did not bow to his will. Section Chief Foxiest Silver Fox does not simply roll over and obey (in her professional life at least).

+ lmao the not-an-Oscar-Wilde-quote quote attribution is so unnecessarily dumb

+ Emily & Tara are a great duo. Friends, crime-fighters, (etc!), they just stand up well to one another. The vibes are fabulous. It's the dynamic closest to what Emily had with Derek, that comfortable teasing and trust.

+ also noting that Tara asks Emily if she knows Rebecca Wilson, and apparently she does - enough to know she's at the DOJ. Perhaps they've worked on case(s) together before. Orrrrr maybe they met at some LGBTQ Feds networking event. 😏 Emily does give her a very warm smile when Rebecca shows her face at the BAU.

+ The way Zach Gilford asked unsub #2 "are you disobeying me?"............I don't know, it made my ears perk.

+ in the Garcia / Rossi scene, there is much to enjoy. The insight into Garcia's mindset. Rossi's resigned "I did. I kept falling asleep." I can't help but laugh at PG fully saying "Licensed Clinical Social Worker." I appreciate the specificity, but it's a whole mouthful!

+ fucked up that Garcia's login credentials still work. Any self respecting agency would make you change your password every 3-6 months at least, not to mention she's No Longer Employed There. But who needs real administrative mess when you can have loony toons (plot-based) administrative mess?!

+ Tara wearing a lot of plaid and window pane patterns. Aside from the obvious, it's just a nice costuming choice that remains kind of conservative but sets her apart from the others.

+ Most of the wardrobe is in blues and browns and grays. I wonder if this will change as time goes on (i.e. will Garcia bring the color back) or if that's going to remain through the whole season.

+ Okay, but did y'all also catch the weird look that Rebecca & Luke exchanged in this briefing room scene? It seemed like more than "close the door". Is there some kind of history there?

+ Oh this show is so silly!!!!! So silly, and it still makes me happy. Incredible.

[auraunbound]

The boat ride to the island was, unique to say the least. The uneasy silence made for a tense trip, and all three of the intrepid adventurers were thankful to finally be off it and onto dry land. Only once they were out of earshot of the sailors did they finally decide to speak to one another.

“Damn, was it just me, or did those guys seriously give anyone else the creeps?”

“I can say with total honesty that it wasn’t just you. Now, if we could get on with things.”

The three started to explore the island, past the buildings in the small town, and down a winding path through the forest. During the trek, Lily activated the tiny camera drone, walking backwards to speak into it as it followed.

“Just got ourselves to the island. Place is a ghost town, as expected. We’re on our way to the facility now, we jus-”

“The hell’re you doing?”

“Vi’s havin’ me do these like, update records’r whatever. Keep track’a everythin’ we do.”

“You really refer to your employer by a nickname and call it professional?”

“Well sorry we do things a li’l more casual down in Delta Town.”

“Ah, I should’ve guessed.”

Thankfully for the group as a whole, the potential argument that could have broken out was preemptively stopped when they caught sight of their destination through the trees. Immediately they all picked up the pace.

Once inside, they started poking around. Most of the rooms were relatively uninteresting, though some of the notes were fairly interesting to part of the assembled party.

“Well, seems like these upper levels are useless.”

“Unless yer really into snacks that’re older than yer grandma. Ya’ find anything interestin’ Taupe?”

“Old audio logs. Most of them are just normal diary entries, but there were a few things of note. For one, it seems there were church officials were stationed here in some capacity. No telling if it was just at the surface level or if they were allowed access deeper in, but even the Bishop showed his face on one occasion.”

“Alright, so the church and the empire worked together or somethin’? Not sure that’s exactly breakin’ news.”

“It’s a tad more considerable learning that this lab seems to have been researching how to engineer Awakened abilities.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“’Oh shit’ is right. Were they trying to engineer an army of Templars?”

“I can’t say for certain what their motives were. I have some theories, but I expect to find some more answers further in. The sooner we get the power activated, the better.”

“Actually, I was thinkin’ about that. Turnin’ on power means turnin’ on security right? I can just get us down the shaft.”

“Really? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

Lily made her way over to the elevator doors, turning a switch on the pack strapped to the small of her back. The lights along the arms of her suit changed from a bright red to a deep violet. Generally, she preferred to stick to the flame setting, but sometimes the situation called for something a little different. She flexed her fingers, drawing back her fist and striking at the center of the doors. A concussive blast erupted from her knuckles on impact, warping the doors inward to create a gap. She took a moment to admire her handiwork before turning around to the rest of the group.

“How’s that fer an entrance?”

“If I’m correct in assuming the rest of this facility is underwater, I ask you please refrain from trying that trick again. In any case, that takes care of the door, but how do we get down?”

“Well, I can get down fine. But I got somethin’ fer you guys too.” Lily knelt down by the edge of the elevator shaft, pulling out what looked like a piton for mountain climbing. With a mighty swing of her fist, she pounded it into the metal of the shaft, throwing a cable down after it.

“There ya’ go, one express ride!”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope!” She tossed each of the boys a belt with a winch, giving them a wink. “See ya’ at the bottom!” And with that, she hopped down into the shaft, controlling her descent with the grav-tech in her gauntlets.

Taupe and Yarrow looked at each other, and then, reluctantly, hooked themselves up to the cable to begin their descent.

[thorntonkrell-blog-blog]

I was up in the cave reading when Lynn called me down for dinner. As I reached the top of the stairs, I could smell what she was cooking and once again said "Oh, Boy", as I began my slow descent down the stairs toward the kitchen table.

Apparently she had heard "oh Boy" one too many times and told me to stop saying that because it sounded like she was doing something miraculous when all she was doing was making dinner. I reminded her that with my skill set, making dinner was a kind of miracle to which she responded that with my skill set almost anything that anybody does must be like a miracle.

She was right.

That's why to this day, I believe in people and I believe in miracles.

When I was a child, I wanted to be a major league baseball player as did most of my friends. I hustled and read and worked and played with as much joy and committment to my dream as anyone that I knew. After high school, it became painfully apparent that no matter how hard I tried, I could not compete with other guys who could do everything that I could better do only with less effort.

Although I wasn't an outstanding ballplayer, I was good with baseball cards. I loved the photography in each card. I loved the way that every card summed up the career of each player. I had a head start in photography because my Aunt Rose worked at Kodak camera works and always equipped me with the latest versions of Brownie cameras.

My biggest head start was in reading.

I can read with greater comprehension and speed than others because it seems easy to me. I didn't recognize it as a particular gift because I figured that if I could do it, than anybody could do it. Yeah, I could read but I couldn't hit. When they gave us aptitude tests on reading comprehension, I always scored in the 99 percentile. When I was in first grade they sent me to read for the eighth graders. BFD. I wanted to play ball with them and beat them there in something that mattered.

Eventually, I sorted things out. I realized that being able to read with greater comprehension and speed than others can be a valuable asset in many fields, including academia, business, and personal development.

I am not motivated or interested in some of the most essential tasks of daily living. This is why I spent 55 years in an institution more favorable to my interests.

It took me a long time to realize that reading was in fact legitimate work and deserving of my time. To my wife and many others, I read too much and don't know shit about anything else. While I labored to maximize my natural ability, I appeared to be neglecting other areas which I have come to realize is true. Those folks who worked on those other areas, mechanics, plumbing, gardening, cooking, home repair, and many many other areas including sports while I was working often seem like geniuses to me.

I became an English teacher, a writer, a photographer and a reader.

With my interest in career development thanks to baseball cards, I received a professional growth fellowship from my school district. I used the fellowship to earn a Masters Degree in Career and Human Resource Development from the Rochester Institute of Technology.

It was at RIT that I became fascinated with aptitude and the theory of least effort.

Upon returning to my institution, I applied what I had learned about career development and wrote a grant. I found that writing the grant came easily to me.

My first grant was funded under the Career Education Act which aimed at linking school with life after school. The grant was for $250,000.

I left the classroom and started the process of bringing career information into curriculum through internships, guest speakers, in-service courses for teachers, individual career counseling, resume writing and everything else I could think of. In this process, my career was developing as well.

It all seemed so natural.

Everything was coming together.

I became very good at identifying the strengths of everybody with whom I came in contact. I loved and continue to love catching people doing something right and letting them know that I caught them

Eventually, I needed to return to the classroom. I had discovered in student teaching that instruction also was natural for me and I missed it. I love learning and when you teach you learn. I settled back into the classroom, writing the occasional grant, teaching twelfth grade and instituting a course in Cinematic Literacy.

I retired at the top of my game. In retirement I have had to face my lack of capability outside the institution.

The theory of least effort is a concept that describes the idea that individuals tend to choose the path of least resistance, or the easiest way to accomplish a task, with the least amount of effort required. This principle applies to many areas of life, including social interactions, decision-making, and even the way people communicate.

The theory of least effort can be applied to various fields, including psychology, economics, and sociology. In psychology, it can explain why people often choose the easiest way to complete a task, even if that method is not the most effective. For example, someone may choose to procrastinate on a difficult project because it requires more effort than a simpler task.

The theory of least effort suggests that people are naturally inclined to conserve their energy and resources, choosing the easiest path whenever possible. It's all about aptitude. I'm down with that.

An aptitude refers to a person's natural or innate ability to acquire certain skills or perform certain tasks. It is an individual's potential to learn and excel in a particular area or field.

Aptitudes can be both intellectual and physical. For example, a person may have a natural aptitude for mathematics, music, or languages. Similarly, some people may have a natural aptitude for sports, dance, or other physical activities.

Aptitudes can be developed and enhanced through practice and learning, but they are often considered to be innate traits that people are born with.

Aptitude alone does not guarantee success. Other factors, such as motivation, interest, and perseverance, also play a critical role in achieving success in any given field.

In general, individuals with a high aptitude for a particular task or skill may require less effort to accomplish the same task as someone with a lower aptitude. For example, a person with a natural aptitude for mathematics may find it easier to solve complex problems with less effort than someone who struggles with basic calculations. A person blessed with superior athletic ability combined with eye hand co-ordination and strength is gonna be better at baseball than me.

I found that out

also football, basketball, golf, music and so many other things that I don't have enough room to enumerate.

Aptitude alone does not guarantee success as surely as non-aptitude guarantees struggle. Even individuals with a natural aptitude for a particular skill or task may require significant effort and practice to excel. Factors such as motivation, interest, and perseverance can also play a critical role in achieving success.

Yeah, this is true but eventually a dream dies and pursuit of that unrealistic dream leads to pain/frustration and low self-esteem.

I am not motivated or interested in some of the most essential tasks of daily living. This is why I spent 55 years in an institution more favorable to my interests.

Also, the time we spend laboring over an activity that we are just not good enough at, takes away from the time we could be working on the areas at which we might succeed and prosper. Perhaps the time I wasted on baseball and football and music et al is the reason why I'm not as great a writer as I think I am. Others of equal aptitude embraced the gift earlier, worked harder and gained a huge head start that I will never be able to catch up with although I try, I try.

I'm trying now.

So why do we often ignore aptitude and pursue efforts that are more difficult for us at which we will never be as good as those with higher aptitudes. Why do we continually seek to work harder not smarter.

There are several reasons why people may ignore their aptitudes and pursue efforts that are more difficult for them, even if they will never be as good as those with higher aptitudes:

Social pressure: People may feel pressured to pursue certain careers or activities that are highly valued in their society, regardless of their natural aptitudes. For example, a person may feel pressured to become a lawyer or doctor, even if they have a natural aptitude for art or music.

Personal interest: People may be interested in pursuing activities or careers that are not aligned with their natural aptitudes. For example, a person may have a natural aptitude for mathematics but may be more interested in pursuing a career in writing.

Challenge: Some people may enjoy the challenge of pursuing activities that are more difficult for them. They may see it as an opportunity to grow and develop new skills, even if they may never be as good as someone with a higher aptitude.

Lack of self-awareness: Some people may not be aware of their natural aptitudes and may not realize that they are pursuing activities that are more difficult for them.

External rewards: People may pursue activities or careers that offer external rewards, such as high salaries or social status, even if they are not aligned with their natural aptitudes.

There are many factors that can influence why people may ignore their natural aptitudes and pursue activities that are more difficult for them. However, it is important to recognize that pursuing activities that align with our natural aptitudes can lead to greater satisfaction and success in the long run.

Aptitudes are not fixed or immutable traits. They can be developed and enhanced through practice and learning. Therefore, it is possible for someone to have a lower aptitude in a particular area but still achieve success through hard work and dedication but not as succesful as another person with a greater aptitude who works equally as hard.

Ultimately, it is up to each individual to determine the path that is best for them, taking into account their natural aptitudes, interests, and passions. While growth and development are important, it is also important to consider whether pursuing activities that are not aligned with one's natural aptitudes may lead to long-term dissatisfaction or burnout.

I can read with greater comprehension and speed than others because it seems easy to me. I didn't recognize it as a particular gift because I figured that if I could do it, than anybody could do it. Yeah, I could read but I couldn't hit. When they gave us aptitude tests on reading comprehension, I always scored in the 99 percentile. When I was in first grade they sent me to read for the eighth graders. BFD. I wanted to play ball with them and beat them there in something that mattered.

Eventually, I sorted things out. I realized that being able to read with greater comprehension and speed than others can be a valuable asset in many fields, including academia, business, and personal development.

It took me a long time to realize that reading was in fact legitimate work and deserving of my time. To my wife and many others, I read too much and don't know shit about anything else. While I labored to maximize my natural ability, I appeared to be neglecting other areas which I have come to realize is true. Those folks who worked on those other areas while I was working often seem like geniuses to me.

I am and have always been aware of the double edged sword of reading.

On the positive side, reading is an excellent way to gain knowledge, improve vocabulary and language skills, and expand one's horizons. Reading can also be a source of entertainment, relaxation, and personal growth. Reading can also have negative effects. For example, reading too much can lead to eye strain, headaches, and other physical symptoms. Additionally, reading certain types of content, such as fake news or propaganda, can lead to misinformation and a distorted view of the world.

Furthermore, reading can be addictive, and excessive reading can lead to neglect of other important aspects of life, such as relationships, work, and physical health. Reading can also lead to a passive consumption of information rather than active engagement with the world and other people.

While reading can be a valuable and enjoyable activity, it is important to maintain a balance and be mindful of its potential negative effects. It is important to read a variety of content, critically evaluate what one is reading, and balance reading with other important aspects of life. Also conflicts exist between readers and non-readers.

Differences in interests: Readers may have a different set of interests and values compared to non-readers. This can lead to conflicts in social interactions and decision-making. Differences in communication style: Readers may use more complex vocabulary and have a different communication style compared to non-readers. This can lead to misunderstandings and difficulties in communication. Differences in knowledge and understanding: Readers may have a deeper knowledge and understanding of various topics compared to non-readers. This can lead to conflicts in decision-making and problem-solving. Differences in perspectives: Readers may have a more open-minded and critical perspective compared to non-readers. This can lead to conflicts in personal beliefs and values. Differences in time management: Reading requires time and dedication, which non-readers may not understand or appreciate. This can lead to conflicts in managing time and priorities.

Just ask Lynn.

Yeah, honey...I'll be there in just a minute.

I'm just finishing up right now.

Yes, if you have a natural aptitude for reading, it can be a good idea to maximize and develop this skill. Being able to read with greater comprehension and speed than others can be a valuable asset in many fields, including academia, business, and personal development.

it is important to consider the impact of your aptitude on your personal well-being. While it may be tempting to maximize your natural aptitudes, doing so at the expense of other activities or neglecting self-care can lead to burnout and long-term dissatisfaction.

In summary, if you have a natural aptitude for reading, it can be beneficial to develop and maximize this skill. However, it is important to consider other factors such as personal interests and well-being when making decisions about how to allocate your time and energy.

Okay...I'm good at it...I like it and I see a future in it should I pursue such an aptitude rather than pursuing task for which I have less aptitude attraction or interest.

Yes, if you have a natural aptitude for reading and you enjoy it, and you see a future in pursuing a career or activities related to reading, it can be a good idea to focus on developing this skill and pursuing opportunities in this field. Pursuing activities that align with your natural aptitudes and interests can lead to greater satisfaction and success in the long run.

However, it is also important to consider other factors such as personal values, financial stability, and work-life balance when making decisions about your career and activities. It may also be beneficial to explore different options and opportunities related to your aptitude for reading, such as careers in writing, publishing, or academia.

Reading can be a double-edged sword because it has both positive and negative effects.

On the positive side, reading is an excellent way to gain knowledge, improve vocabulary and language skills, and expand one's horizons. Reading can also be a source of entertainment, relaxation, and personal growth. Reading can also have negative effects. For example, reading too much can lead to eye strain, headaches, and other physical symptoms. Additionally, reading certain types of content, such as fake news or propaganda, can lead to misinformation and a distorted view of the world.

Furthermore, reading can be addictive, and excessive reading can lead to neglect of other important aspects of life, such as relationships, work, and physical health. Reading can also lead to a passive consumption of information rather than active engagement with the world and other people.

While reading can be a valuable and enjoyable activity, it is important to maintain a balance and be mindful of its potential negative effects. It is important to read a variety of content, critically evaluate what one is reading, and balance reading with other important aspects of life. Also conflicts exist between readers and non-readers.

The main areas of conflict between readers and non-readers can vary depending on the context, but some possible areas of conflict include:

Differences in interests: Readers may have a different set of interests and values compared to non-readers. This can lead to conflicts in social interactions and decision-making. Differences in communication style: Readers may use more complex vocabulary and have a different communication style compared to non-readers. This can lead to misunderstandings and difficulties in communication. Differences in knowledge and understanding: Readers may have a deeper knowledge and understanding of various topics compared to non-readers. This can lead to conflicts in decision-making and problem-solving. Differences in perspectives: Readers may have a more open-minded and critical perspective compared to non-readers. This can lead to conflicts in personal beliefs and values. Differences in time management: Reading requires time and dedication, which non-readers may not understand or appreciate. This can lead to conflicts in managing time and priorities.

What are the main areas of conflict between readers and non-readers

The main areas of conflict between readers and non-readers can vary depending on the context, but some possible areas of conflict include:

Differences in interests: Readers may have a different set of interests and values compared to non-readers. This can lead to conflicts in social interactions and decision-making. Differences in communication style: Readers may use more complex vocabulary and have a different communication style compared to non-readers. This can lead to misunderstandings and difficulties in communication. Differences in knowledge and understanding: Readers may have a deeper knowledge and understanding of various topics compared to non-readers. This can lead to conflicts in decision-making and problem-solving. Differences in perspectives: Readers may have a more open-minded and critical perspective compared to non-readers. This can lead to conflicts in personal beliefs and values. Differences in time management: Reading requires time and dedication, which non-readers may not understand or appreciate. This can lead to conflicts in managing time and priorities. It is important to note that these areas of conflict are not exclusive to readers and non-readers, and conflicts can arise between individuals with different interests, communication styles, knowledge, and perspectives, regardless of their reading habits. The key to managing conflicts is to practice empathy, respect, and open communication with others.

Ultimately, the decision to pursue an aptitude or not is a personal one that should take into account multiple factors. If you find that pursuing your aptitude for reading brings you joy and fulfillment, and aligns with your personal values and goals, then it can be a great path to pursue.

How can reading be a double edged sword

Reading can be a double-edged sword because it has both positive and negative effects.

On the positive side, reading is an excellent way to gain knowledge, improve vocabulary and language skills, and expand one's horizons. Reading can also be a source of entertainment, relaxation, and personal growth.

However, reading can also have negative effects. For example, reading too much can lead to eye strain, headaches, and other physical symptoms. Additionally, reading certain types of content, such as fake news or propaganda, can lead to misinformation and a distorted view of the world.

Furthermore, reading can be addictive, and excessive reading can lead to neglect of other important aspects of life, such as relationships, work, and physical health. Reading can also lead to a passive consumption of information rather than active engagement with the world and other people.

Therefore, while reading can be a valuable and enjoyable activity, it is important to maintain a balance and be mindful of its potential negative effects. It is important to read a variety of content, critically evaluate what one is reading, and balance reading with other important aspects of life.

What are the main areas of conflict between readers and non-readers

The main areas of conflict between readers and non-readers can vary depending on the context, but some possible areas of conflict include:

Differences in interests: Readers may have a different set of interests and values compared to non-readers. This can lead to conflicts in social interactions and decision-making.

Differences in communication style: Readers may use more complex vocabulary and have a different communication style compared to non-readers. This can lead to misunderstandings and difficulties in communication.

Differences in knowledge and understanding: Readers may have a deeper knowledge and understanding of various topics compared to non-readers. This can lead to conflicts in decision-making and problem-solving.

Differences in perspectives: Readers may have a more open-minded and critical perspective compared to non-readers. This can lead to conflicts in personal beliefs and values.

Differences in time management: Reading requires time and dedication, which non-readers may not understand or appreciate. This can lead to conflicts in managing time and priorities.

It is important to note that these areas of conflict are not exclusive to readers and non-readers, and conflicts can arise between individuals with different interests, communication styles, knowledge, and perspectives, regardless of their reading habits. The key to managing conflicts is to practice empathy, respect, and open communication with others.

is shuddup a form of verbal abuse

Yes, "shut up" can be considered a form of verbal abuse. Verbal abuse is any type of speech that is used to control, manipulate, intimidate, or belittle another person. "Shut up" is often used as a way to silence someone, disregard their thoughts or feelings, or to show disrespect.

Using this phrase repeatedly, or in a threatening or aggressive manner, can be emotionally damaging and can erode the self-esteem and confidence of the person being targeted. It is important to use respectful and constructive communication in all interactions, and to avoid using phrases or words that can be perceived as hurtful or abusive.

[ginnyw-potter-archive]

No omg let’s hear about those headcanons!!! I’d love to hear them!!!

oh okay so it is pretty late so I will come back to this post and add to it but here we go! also some of these things are canon but like people forget? so yep. these two live in my head rent free 😌

people forget they're both like really powerful?? like canonically they have very powerful magic both of them. so they must be intimidating af when they walk into a room. right after the war already and then they both just continue being iconic and doing incredible stuff like youngest head auror ever ( like hello?? aurors are tough as fuck and this man that should have died at least 5 times just came in, did a hell of a good job and landed head auror) and Ginny is professional Chaser but don't let that mislead you !! she's not just an athlete she's hella talented

people really be like oh fuck it's the Potters, let's behave

they're both canonically goodlooking. they're gorgeous. they both look amazing. and they're powerful. Harry's really tall. like ?? it be the kind of people I'd be like "alright something's gotta be wrong with them" if I knew them irl but no on top of that they seem to be genuinely nice people

Harry and Ginny joke around all the time. They both have a great sense of humour. also Ron just makes it really easy to tease him. They make being in the spotlight easier by making jokes out of headlines and telling reporters absolute bullshit. "yes of course we bought all our children a unicorn." "my affair with Ron has been ongoing for years, Ginny has no clue" (Ginny is standing beside him)

Bc they have such a great sense of humour, they are also the Weasley Wizard Wheezes's best supporters. Like they'll show up, finance new lines, all of it

They both have nightmares but they deal with it together. They know how to calm each other down without saying much

Harry is absolutely smitten by Ginny like.... absolutely whipped for her

bc Ginny is short and has a small frame, she likes to jump on him and he'll catch her. he's much taller so he can carry her with ease. especially if she's excited she'll run at him and he'll happily catch her

they duel each other for funsies. from the outside it looks terrifying and like someone's going to get hurt but they know each other well and it's also a way of flirting for them

they get married really young bc they're so in love and they're passionate and fuck it they could've died, they want to be bonded for life (Hermione and Ron marry later bc they're more rational about it)

they're both bisexual to some degree

When James goes to Hogwarts they find the house too quiet and have another kid. it's twins. their names are Ruby and Remy

the Weasley brothers always expected to give Ginny's potential husband a firm talking to but then it's Harry and they genuinely love Harry so they don't really do more than tease him a little

they love cuddling. just tucked nicely into each other bc it means they know the other person is there and safe and sound without having to look and it just gives them inner peace

Harry is a little possessive bc he knows Ginny's a catch. luckily often just showing up makes a guy back off. "oh shit sorry I didn't realise he is your boyfriend/husband" (Ginny rolls her eyes as Harry comes to stand behind her 'casually'

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

Patch Me Up

Pairing - Vampire!Diluc x Fem!Reader

Warnings - 18+ NSFW, Blood kink obviously, marking kink, biting kink, sharp teeth BARK BARK, fingering, semi public sex??? I mean you guys were in a different room but it was still in a public establishment lol,

Word Count - 1.9k

Other Comments - Bro this idea was just way way way too good to pass up shout out to the anon who requested this because you know what's up; you got some good ass taste. And yes this does have Twilight vibes, what about it.

Ask - VAMPIRE DILUC SMUT I FUCKING BEG YOU

Diluc was a very secluded man, always keeping up thick walls, borderline impossible to penetrate; but there was something about you. You enraptured him, always wearing a bright kind smile when you saw him. Most people found his stand off-ish personality jarring, to which they regarded him with side eyes and cold shoulders unless asking for alcohol.

He looked forward to when you would come into his tavern, it was easy to spark up conversation. You quickly became one of his regulars when you first came into the tavern a few months ago. At first he regarded you with the same cold yet professional tone he regarded most of his customers with; but when you weren’t put off by it and asked how his day had been he was surprised to say the least. After that it was always a high point of his day asking you how your adventures were.

Today was different. You strolled into the tavern at your usual time, but when that door opened a strong delicious scent washed over Diluc. It made his mouth water and his throat burn. When he looked up to see what was going on, to see the cause of his bodily reactions, he saw you limping in; bruises and cuts covering your exhausted body. This was bad. You smelled way too good.

Diluc’s hands became clammy under his gloves, and a sheen of sweat formed on his forehead. He wanted- no, needed, to taste you. To drink you. You smelled almost candy-like, similar to when all of the sweet flowers came to bloom; but better. Diluc’s fists curled into tight balls behind the counter as you approached. He wanted to tell you to leave, to stop walking towards him, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

Were it anyone else and he would’ve quickly been able to shut down the issue by telling them to go see someone who could patch them up first, but this was you. There was something else too, something in the back of his mind. He was worried for you.

“Hey, how’s my favorite bartender doing?” Your voice was raspy, from what exactly Diluc didn’t know, but he wasn’t surprised from seeing your current state. Something in him warmed when you said that though.

“Uh, fine. More importantly, shouldn’t Barbara be patching you up? Why are you in my tavern bleeding on my floors.” Diluc tried to make his voice harsh, but it came out more sarcastic and joking. You chuckled in response to his statement.

“What, you can’t help me?” Diluc stiffened. You wanted him to help you? Why? He has shown no knowledge of medicine, let alone any real concern for you.

“I have no knowledge of medicine, why would you want me to patch you up?” Diluc was more than confused. There were so many other people you knew who were so much more capable of helping you. He was starting to get irritated, not particularly by you, but by your scent. It was driving him crazy and he was surprised he was able to keep his composure as well as he was right now.

“Listen you need to get help before you come in and drink (y/n). Not only are you obviously tired and hurt, you smell.” Shit. Shit you were gonna get suspicious of him and-

“No shit I smell! I’ve been sweating up a storm fighting things, Master Diluc.” Diluc was taken aback by your words, which seemed to be a running theme tonight. You just wouldn’t stop saying the oddest things.

“You’re not going to leave unless I help you, aren’t you?” You smiled victoriously as you shook your head ‘no’. Diluc sighed, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He just had to get through this, then everything would stop. All the saliva, the burning of his throat, the sweating, the desire for you.

It was only when Diluc retrieved a few bandages from the emergency kit he had prepared and he began bandaging up your various cuts, did he notice just how attractive you were. Diluc had removed his gloves, and your skin was so soft under his surprisingly delicate fingers. He wanted to make sure he didn’t cause any discomfort to you, so he treated you like a thin sheet of glass.

There was a softness to him that he didn’t think existed anymore. He didn’t think he was capable of being so gentle with someone. You somehow brought out the best in him, in just the short time you’ve known each other. He never thought he would be able to get so close to someone again. Fuck he really liked you.

“Diluc, you don’t have to be so gentle with me; clearly I can take a beating.” A chuckle rumbled deep in the man’s chest, his crimson eyes never leaving the injury he was dressing.

“Pardon me for wanting you to be comfortable.” You giggled, and it was the most melodic noise he’d ever heard. He wanted to hear you laugh more.

Despite the soft atmosphere, there was still something primal deep within Diluc. He could feel it grow with the more time he spent taking in your delicious scent. If Diluc could blush, he was sure his face would be deep red by now. He wanted to take you right here and now, in the cellar where he kept all his beverages that weren’t needed behind the counter. He delicately moved some of your hair out of your face so he could get to a small scrape on your left cheek. He saw a blush rise to the high points of your cheeks, which only egged on his desire for you. All he could do was stare deep into your eyes. You were breathtaking.

Within seconds both or your lips collided together in a heated kiss. It was fierce and heartfelt. His hands grabbed at your body for purchase, and vice versa. It had the both of you panting, with each intake of oxygen you sent wafted over him stronger than ever before; you were like an addictive perfume. Without thinking Diluc pulled away, staring at your flushed face.

“Let me taste you, fuck I need to mark you up. Make you mine.” You nodded your head feverishly. Diluc’s mouth attacked your neck within seconds of your response, and suddenly his teeth punctured your skin. You blood landed on his tongue and he was addicted. You were his new favourite drug. You tasted exactly like he’d imagine, sweet and light; something he’d never get enough of.

“D..Diluc what-” Before you could finish your sentence, Diluc’s mouth unlatched from your neck, some of your blood smudged at the corner of his mouth.

“Shit (y/n) I apologize, you just.. Fuck you taste so good. I mean you smell so sweet but you taste even better I couldn’t control myself.”

“Diluc, are you like a vampire or something?” You chuckled a little, voice still a little breathy. By the tone of your voice, Diluc knew you meant that as a joke but when he didn’t respond the look on your face changed. The silence weighed heavy on top of Diluc, borderline suffocating. Diluc couldn’t meet your gaze.

“Keep going.” Your voice was soft, just above a whisper, as you moved your head to expose your neck even more. Diluc’s gaze snapped back up immediately to yours, then down to your neck. Then his gaze drifted further down. He was hard.

He attacked your neck once more, getting taken away but how good you tasted. After a few moments, a small moan escaped your lips, so quiet that Diluc would’ve missed it were he not have been hyper aware of your breathing. Once again Diluc’s mouth left your neck, but this time his hands started to roam down towards your pants. He stopped just before unbuttoning them.

“Is… is this alright (y/n)?” You didn’t even respond verbally, just nodding enthusiastically before gripping onto his shoulders. Without anymore hesitation Diluc unbuttoned your pants and almost ripped them off of you. He quickly pinned up against the wall of the cellar, as he pulled your panties to the side and rubbed your clit. Your breath hitched in your throat, before a low moan escaped your lips.

Fueled on by your noise, Diluc retracted his hand from your clit and shoved two of his fingers into your already sopping cunt.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet already.” His fingers worked you open, as his dick strained against his uncomfortably tight slacks. He was becoming impatient, but he wanted to make sure you were nice and open so he didn’t hurt you. After a few more minutes of fingering, he could tell you were starting to become impatient as well.

“Diluc please, I need you. I need to feel you deep. Ah fuck Diluc please.” The strain in your voice when you said please shot straight to his dick, and who was he to refuse you? A dark smile graced his usually stoic features, and you shivered with anticipation. Diluc pulled his fingers out of you, before he licked his fingers clean. Everything about you was just so fucking delicious. Soon enough Diluc freed his hard cock from his pants. There was precum beading on the tip.

He picked you up, lifting you over his cock, before slowly lowering you down. Once you were finally sat right at the base of his dick, your back was once again pressed up against the wall, as he started to finally thrust in and out of you. It was slow for only a few moments, before he began a punishing pace. His hand had already gone to cover your mouth, muffling your loud moans. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to last long, you were so tight, but it seemed you were in a similar boat, as your walls constricted around him.

Your moans were growing in volume and pitch as you got closer and closer to the edge, and Diluc’s breathing was becoming labored, letting out low groans and growls. Before either of you knew it, both of you were cumming. Before you could finish, Diluc sunk his teeth into your neck one more time. He rocked both of you through your orgasms, before pulling away and setting you back down on the ground. He made sure to keep an arm around you though, just in case your legs decided to give out.

Slowly but surely both of you began to dress yourselves again; attempting to make yourselves presentable. After a few moments of silence, you spoke.

“So you’re a vampire. Do you have any cool powers?” You had a lopsided smile on your face, as Diluc chuckled and softly nudged your shoulder. You really were something else.