#i watched the movies recently for the first time

[title]

The Lost Weekend (1945), directed by Billy Wilder

[kingkonoha]

hello. just recently started reading your dad!gojo fics and i am obsessed with them. i saw you mention taking requests for it, so i thought i would send something in. feel free to change any details.

i would like to request a scenario about megumi finally feeling maternal love. i noticed he's always afraid y/n and gojo will change their minds about adopting him and he always compares himself to yuji.

could i request some bonding time between megumi and the reader? maybe he opens up about his worries and feelings. i was thinking the reader could defend him when someone being rude to him as well, but any direction you go in, i will love. i just really am asking for bonding time between mother and son.

MY SON || SATORU G.

♡ — SUMMARY: After you & Satoru adopt Yuji and Megumi, Megumi can’t help but fear that you both will abandon him.

♡ — CONTENT: general angst with comfort, satoru being a great family man, mentions of depression, not eating, very brief mention of wanting to die, & happy ending. you & satoru have a biological child as well.

♡ — WORD COUNT: 4K

♡ — AUTHOR’S NOTE: This fic is part of my Dad!Gojo series, but reading the other parts isn’t necessary.

Megumi’s eyes snapped open. Beads of sweat coated his forehead and neck as he was greeted by the darkness of his bedroom.

Another nightmare.

His fourth one this week.

They weren’t about curses or haunting memories of his past battles, not at all. But, what he did dream about was equally as terrifying; his belongings tossed out on the streets in garbage bags.

“We don’t need two adopted teenagers,” you’d say, glaring at him with utter resentment.

“We have Yuji. He’s the perfect son,” Satoru would add on.

Just like that, he’d return to his old, familiar title of an orphan. Just like that, he’d have to wonder what it felt like to be loved by a mother and father instead of experiencing it himself. Just like that.

He tried to shove the memory of those dreams away because that was all they happened to be. Dreams. A manifestation of his horrid fears. They weren’t real, right? Not some twisted form of foresight?

Megumi rolled over onto his side. The digital clock on his nightstand flickered to 3:47 A.M.

His left pajama pant leg was rolled up to his knee, and the neck of his blue t-shirt was damp with sweat — all signs of a rough slumber, though he had hardly slept at all.

He pulled the messy sheets and comforter over his body, but there was no chance of him falling back asleep. He never did after his nightmares, and it was evident based on the dark circles forming underneath his blue eyes. He’d just lie awake, and let his mind wander . . .

It wasn’t a dream.

It would soon become his reality.

He knew it.

He wasn’t your biological kid like his little sister, Maya. He wasn’t even half as energetic or enthusiastic as Yuji. That boy constantly showered you both with appreciation. Beyond that, Yuji's sudden appearance in your life was the main reason you and Gojo considered adopting Megumi in the first place, despite you both having known Megumi for years prior.

Why did you never consider adopting him before you met Yuji? Why?

It could only mean that his suspicions were correct. You and Gojo didn’t want him. You wanted Yuji and didn’t want to hurt Megumi’s feelings. So, you ended up adopting two teenagers instead of one.

And it was only a matter of time before you and Gojo would get fed up with him.

He should leave first instead of waiting for the day in which you both decide you’re better off without some moody sorcerer bringing the rest of the family down during board game nights and movie marathons.

He’d do it.

He’d pack his bags and leave.

No one would notice.

No one would care.

He was unwanted.

He wasn’t your son.

He was stowaway.

—

It was edging closer to 9:00 A.M., and there was an empty spot at the breakfast nook in the gourmet kitchen.

The table was packed to the brim with servings of toast, meat, eggs, and rice. Satoru took a bite of his egg, watching Maya spread jam on her piece of toasted bread as best as she could, all while Yuji gobbled down his food as if someone was going to snatch it from him.

“Slow down,” you approached, coffee in hand, ruffling your boy’s messy hair.

“Huh?” Yuji paused with a mouth full of food. He swallowed, then said, “Oh, sorry. Everything’s just really great!”

You took a sip of your coffee, frowning upon seeing that Megumi wasn’t at the breakfast nook.

“Did Megumi oversleep?” You locked eyes with Satoru.

“I’m pretty sure he’s awake,” Satoru said, grabbing a napkin before gently wiping strawberry jam off of his adorable daughter’s face. Speaking to the young girl, he mumbled, “careful now, Muffin.”

You took a tentative sip of your warm beverage. “I’m gonna go check on him.”

—

Three gentle knocks sounded from Megumi’s bedroom door.

“Megumi?” You called from the other side. “Breakfast is ready.”

There was a beat of silence, then, he weakly replied, “Not hungry.”

“Can I come in?”

Megumi sighed, but even so, he said yes, and you entered your son’s room to see him still in bed, curled up underneath his covers, the majority of his body hidden underneath the thick fabric.

“You barely touched your dinner last night,” you said, leaning against the frame of his door. “You’ve barely come out of your room at all. Are you feeling sick?”

“I’m fine.”

It was a lie.

You read enough books about raising teenagers to spot false tales. Even so, you didn’t press him, even when an enormous lump of worry started to form in your throat.

“Alright. Food’s here when you want it.” You grabbed his door handle, closing it slowly, awaiting his response, but one never came.

—

Two hours had passed. This time, when someone knocked on Megumi’s door, it was in the form of a rather silly tune, and that person did not wait for permission to enter. Megumi knew exactly who it was without emerging from underneath his comforter.

“Fushigubro!” Yuji peeled the layers of covers back and shook the boy’s shoulder. “Wanna see if Nobara’s free later? Maybe we can all catch a movie or something.”

Megumi didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed the covers Yuji removed, and rehid himself as if the covers served as some sort of protective shield.

“You seem kinda tired,” Yuji tilted his head a bit. “Did you stay up late?”

“Go away, Yuji.”

“Why? You’ve been ducking me all week!” Much like the conversation between you and Megumi earlier, Yuji, too, waited for a response that never came.

With a heavy sigh, he started to leave his brother’s room. “Alright, your loss. Some pretty great stuff is coming out this weekend.” It was one, last, desperate attempt. An attempt that failed. With another sigh, Yuji mumbled, “See you later.”

—

The pitter-patter of small feet could be heard approaching Megumi’s door around noon. For Maya, Megumi at least built up both the patience and energy to turn over onto his side, facing the door as the little girl opened it and ran into his bedroom.

“Meg-mi! Come on, let’s play! Let’s play!”

He gathered all the energy he could muster to say, as kindly as he could, “Not right now.”

“But we always play,” Maya frowned.

“Maybe later.”

“Pleaseee?” She tapped her feet.

“Go away.”

Those words hurt her. Maya was almost five years old, and though she was one of the kindest kids one would ever meet, she was still incredibly sensitive. It was no surprise to see the young girl’s eyes widen with sadness and her bottom lip start to quiver. Megumi, who was the coolest person in the world to her, had never spoken to her in such a way. It hurt.

Her little sniffles grew louder as she left his bedroom.

—

By the time Maya made her way from Megumi’s room to the living room, she was practically drowning in her own tears. Through blurred vision, she sought out the hazy figure sitting on the couch, her arms outstretched.

“What’s wrong, Muffin? C’mere.” Satoru scooped her up, sitting her on his lap. “What happened?”

Hearing the commotion, you stepped into the living room, your eyebrows knitted together in great concern.

“Meg-mi didn’t wanna play,” she sniffled. “He-he said to go away!”

“I’ll play with you, sweetheart. We can play whatever you want until lunch is ready, hm?” Satoru wiped her tears away with the end of his sleeve. “Don’t cry. You’re breaking my heart.”

“Okay,” she spoke with a little mumble. “Does Meg-mi hate me? ‘Cause he’s my brother . . . and brothers aren’t s‘posed to hate you.”

“No, no, he doesn’t hate you. I think he might just be a little sick right now,” Satoru paused. “Sometimes people want a little peace and quiet when they’re not feeling well.”

“And soup.”

“That’s right, and soup,” Satoru gave her a soft smile.

“How about I make you something special for lunch, Maya?” You suddenly caught the young girl’s attention, faking a bright smile with the hopes of cheering her up. “What do you want to eat?”

“I . . . umm . . . uh . . . sandwiches!”

“Sandwiches it is. Mommy’s gonna make you the biggest sandwich ever,” you promised.

“Let’s go play,” Satoru said to Maya.

She hopped off of his lap, running as fast as her tiny feet would carry her to the backdoor, where she and her dad would spend the next hour playing together in the enchanting backyard.

—

Beautiful sandwiches were stuffed to the brim with meat, veggies, and sauces — every sandwich customized to each specific family member’s liking. They were cut in half, resting on plates with apple slices served on the side.

Satoru and Maya would be inside soon to gobble their sandwiches down. Yuji wasn’t home, and would perhaps grab lunch with his friend, so you stored his sandwich away in a Tupperware container, popping it in the fridge for later.

You held on to Megumi’s plate. He had skipped breakfast. He hadn’t left his room all day.

Approaching his bedroom, his lunch in hand, you noted that his door was open. This little fact would have made you smile under ordinary circumstances, but today, it snapped your heart into pieces.

You knew well that Maya never remembered to shut doors. Therefore, it was easy to gather that she left it open earlier when she asked Megumi to play, and if it was still open, then that meant your son couldn’t even find the strength or desire to close it himself.

You stepped into his room as quietly as you could. You eyed the lump underneath the covers, hoping Megumi would emerge, but at best, you were only able to see the very top of his head. Even his black hair wasn’t as spiky today.

The plate clanked against Megumi’s nightstand as you sat it down. He didn’t move. He didn’t say a word. If it wasn’t for the rise and fall of the covers, in sync with his slow breathing, you would have assumed he was dead.

It was motherly instinct that made your hand reach out, wanting to touch his shoulder or pull him in for a hug or even just pat his arm — anything. But you didn’t. You didn’t touch him at all. You only turned around and left, hoping that when you returned, it would be to collect an empty plate that needed to be washed.

—

The afternoon sun had warmed the big family home, casting gentle orange sun rays through the windows with drawn curtains, natural light filtering in.

A half-cold mug of tea sat on the coffee table in your den, right beside a closed novel you grabbed off of the bookshelf to read, but you had no desire to do so right now. Not when you could only think about your son.

It was time to check on him again.

His room, unlike the rest of the house, was dark. Chilly. His blackout curtains left the sunlight no chance of entering his space.

Megumi himself was in a slightly different position than he was when you stepped into his room earlier to give him his sandwich. He was still under the covers, still hidden, breathing slowly, but the shape of him indicated he was curled up into a ball.

The sandwich.

The plate was sitting on his nightstand. Not a piece of the sandwich had been nibbled on, not even a crumb. The untouched apple slices were starting to turn brown around the edges.

“Megumi . . .”

He shifted a bit but didn’t respond. Earlier in the day, he would have at least mumbled something, but now, he no longer bothered with doing that either. It was as if he was worsening by the hour.

You were on the verge of tears. What was wrong with him? What was going on with your boy?

—

Satoru joined you in the living room fifteen minutes later. During that time, you weren’t aware of your own endless pacing until your husband wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, halting your footsteps.

“Talk to me,” he whispered.

“I’m really worried about Megumi,” you wasted no time pouring out your grievances, resting the back of your head against your husband’s chest. “He won’t eat. I thought it was my cooking at first, but he won’t take a bite, Satoru. He won’t leave his bed, he’s barely sleeping . . . if he was sick, I think he’d tell us. And it’s not like him to hurt Maya’s feelings.”

“I think he’s depressed. It’s rare when a sorcerer isn’t depressed.”

“None of his latest missions have been too . . . traumatizing,” You turned around in Gojo’s arms, looking up into his eyes. “Why would he suddenly start to act this way now?”

“Sometimes that’s just how it works. All we can do is continue to give these kids the world, and hope that it balances out the shitty job that comes with being a sorcerer,” Satoru planted a kiss on your forehead. “Want me to talk to him?”

You shook your head as a way of saying no. “I want to do it. But I have a gut feeling he’s depressed about something else. I just know it.”

The white-haired man cradled your head, guiding it towards his chest. His other arm was still wrapped around your waist, and for a moment, he simply held you.

—

“Megumi?”

You stood at Megumi’s bedside. He didn’t answer at first, but you called his name again; this time, in a more pressing manner.

“Megumi.”

“Hm?” He mumbled. It was so low, that your ears almost didn’t catch it.

“Is it too lame for a teenager to spend a Saturday evening with their mother?” You questioned.

With a slow, exhausted tone, Megumi said, “It’s not personal, Yuji just likes hanging out with Nobara-”

“No, I mean- sorry. You misunderstood me. I’m not asking you about Yuji. I’m asking you if you’d like to spend time with me. Just you and me.”

For a brief moment in time, Megumi didn’t respond, nor did the covers rise and fall with the movements of his body. The teenager was holding his breath.

Suddenly, he pulled the covers down. For the first time in what felt like ages, you could see his face. It both sparked internal fireworks of joy and snapped your heart into pieces. You were happy to finally see him, but the sight of his pale skin, eye bags, and absolute misery glistening within his eyes broke you.

For Megumi, hearing your offer to spend time alone with him was confusing.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because I want to have some quality time with you, silly. There’s a new cafe, just opened up down the street. I checked out their menu online and I really think you’d enjoy it,” you smiled at him. “Best black coffee in town, so I’ve heard.”

“Satoru must be busy,” Megumi mumbled, “If you’re asking me to go with you.”

“Satoru is napping with Maya and doing absolutely nothing with his life right now. I could go with him, but I want to go with you.”

It was no understatement to say that Megumi’s mind was often unkind to him. Right now, a thousand different thoughts were flooding in: Was this some sort of tactic to get him out of the house, leave him stranded somewhere, and tell him to never return? Or was it more so a Last Good Day sort of method, where you’d give him special treatment to lessen the incoming blow: hey kid, we don’t want you around anymore.

What if this was something else entirely?

What if this determined whether you’d love him as a son?

If he said no, if he continued to sulk in bed, would that make you despise him? Send him back to the unwelcoming school grounds run by, as Satoru called them, “conservative fools?” Reduce him to nothing more than an orphan once again?

But, maybe, just maybe, if he said yes . . . if he said yes, he could prevent that from happening. Maybe.

—

“Isn’t this nice?”

The quaint cafe was so new, Megumi could still smell the fresh paint, though it was faint. Beige and brown tones were broken up with green plants placed nearest the entrance, and the late afternoon sun only made the atmosphere that much more cozy.

Megumi stared down at the hot black coffee in his mug. “Did you really want to spend time with me, or did you just make that up?”

Your eyes snapped away from the menu in your hand. “Of course I want to spend time with you. Why are you having such a hard time believing that?” You wanted to reach out and touch his hand, but noting how he wasn’t the biggest fan of physical affection, you sought against it. “Megumi, what’s going on? Please talk to me. I’m trying to hide how worried I am, but I-”

“Well, well, well, you look like shit,” an unfamiliar voice started to speak — or, rather, unfamiliar to you, as Megumi’s face twisted into one of discomfort as a teenage boy approached your table. “Surprised to see you out of the infirmary for once, Megumi. You sure that coffee isn’t too hot for you? I bet you-”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” You put your menu down on the table, folding your hands. You gave the sorcerer student a threatening smile. “Please don’t speak that way to my son.”

“Son?” The black-haired bully started to chuckle. “Are you-”

“Yes. Son. Now walk away.”

“Who do you-”

“Walk away.”

There was no cursed energy involved, no cursed speech, yelling, or anything of the sort, and therefore, the stranger couldn’t determine what about your presence made him turn on his heel and head in the other direction. Perhaps, it was just plain old fear.

“I oughta put him in the infirmary,” you frowned, turning your eyes away from the retreating bully and back towards Megumi. “Who was that?”

“Just some jerk. Don’t worry about it,” he said.

Though he was an expert when it came to neutral and emotionless facial expressions, you tried to read him, and noted that, shockingly, a small, amused smile tried to tug on Megumi’s lips.

“What?” A confused grin appeared on your face.

“Nothing,” he took a sip of his coffee. “Um, thank you, by the way.”

“Of course.” Your smile fell into a more serious expression. “But back to what we were talking about. Why do you think I wouldn’t want to spend time with you?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged. “I’m just not as fun to be around as everyone else. Yuji, for example.”

The look on your face changed into one that was all too familiar. It was the look you gave him whenever he came back from a mission covered in bruises — the look of love and worry.

“Megumi, I need you to understand that Satoru and I adore everything about you. You are a joy to be around. You have this . . . this comforting and kind presence. We love your quietness just as much as we love Yuji’s hyperness. It just worries us when you shut us out completely. You won’t leave your bed, you won’t touch your food-”

“I know, I know,” Megumi took another sip of his coffee, avoiding your gaze.

“Please tell me why. I want to help.”

Megumi’s leg started to shake. He scratched at the skin surrounding his thumbnail.

“I just think you and Satoru will wake up someday. . .” he paused, taking a small breath. Right now, he wished he could die. “Wake up and realize you don’t want me around.”

Half of you expected some sort of punchline or fit of laughter to indicate that this was some kind of joke, but it never came. Your son only stared holes into the table.

“What? Why would you think something as ridiculous as that?” Your frown deepened. “Do you feel as if we don’t treat you well, or?”

“It’s nothing like that. I think you treat me better than I deserve,” Megumi scratched the back of his neck, though it wasn’t itchy. “But, I met Satoru when I was six. I met you the second you two started dating just one year later. I’ve been in your lives for years now, but you didn’t bother adopting me until you met Yuji last year. Don’t get me wrong, you and Satoru were teenagers when we met and he was nothing more than my teacher until recently, but I can’t help but think that I’m only here now because you would’ve felt too guilty had you adopted Yuji, and not me.”

The instrumental tunes playing softly within the cafe filled the silence as you took a moment to process Megumi’s words.

It was only for a couple of seconds, but to Megumi, it was enough time for him to start mentally preparing for the realization that, perhaps, he would be sleeping elsewhere tonight.

“Megumi, even when Satoru and I were just a few years older than you are now, we still tried our best to care for you as often as we could. I know it was nothing more than a warm meal every now and then or a new shirt for your birthday, but we still loved you.” Megumi looked up at you at long last, and you continued, “We should’ve adopted you sooner. You were always so independent and mature, so I guess we didn’t realize how much it would’ve meant to you. I’m sorry. But please don’t ever think we only adopted you because we wanted to adopt Yuji. Once we opened our minds to the idea of adoption in general, we adopted you because making you our son officially was a no-brainer. In our eyes, you were already our kid. Our very first kid. We love you.”

In our eyes, you were already our kid. Our very first kid. We love you.

Our very first kid.

We love you.

Those words were on a constant loop within Megumi’s mind like a broken record. The corners of his lips twitched, along with his eyebrows, and though his eyes were watery, it wasn’t from misery.

“I’m not used to anything like this . . . to people sticking around,” he couldn’t help but let one single tear fall.

“I know, hun. But you better get used it, because we’re not going anywhere. You’re not going anywhere.” Reaching out, you touched Megumi’s hand, stroking your thumb across his knuckles. He tensed, but he didn’t pull away. “C’mon, let’s order. And don’t you dare try to order the cheapest thing. Order something you actually want.”

The teenager nodded, discreetly wiping away another tear, and together, you both got up and headed for the counter.

—

Dining on cafe food was an enjoyable experience. Megumi didn’t finish his plate, but he ate around half of it — it was better than nothing.

After returning home, you rested your head in Satoru’s lap as you recounted the details of the late afternoon. You both stayed that way, doing nothing but softly and lovingly chatting with one another — and exchanging a few kisses — until evening fell. Yuji came home with 3D glasses on his head, a cup of soda in hand, and the scent of buttery popcorn all over his clothes. By then, Satoru was tucking his little girl into bed while Yuji rambled on to you about the movie he saw, all before taking a shower and preparing for bed himself.

A few hours later, every member of the Gojo household was fast asleep — except for you. Your back was pressed against the headboard of your enormous king-sized bed — bigger than a traditional king-sized, truth be told — and Satoru’s arm was draped across your lap as he slept on his stomach. You flipped another page of your novel.

Suddenly, a figure appeared in your doorway, visible thanks to the warm light of your touch-controlled lamp.

“Can’t sleep?” You asked.

Megumi shook his head, “another nightmare.”

Of course, your comforting words weren’t enough to undo the depression itself. However, the fact that Megumi was coming to you instead of lying awake, alone with his horrid thoughts, was progress. Great progress.

“Why don’t you try sleeping in here?” You offered a smile. “Would you be comfortable with that?”

Megumi nodded. He left briefly to grab his pillow and a blanket from his room, but when he returned and tossed it down on the floor, you frowned.

“No, no, no,” you objected. “I’d kick Satoru out of this bed before I let you sleep on the floor. There's plenty of room at the foot of the bed.”

Though he was hesitant at first, Megumi eventually crawled over your silk comforter with his blanket and pillow. It was true. The bed was big enough for him to lay across the bottom of it horizontally and not touch Satoru, who was well over six feet tall.

Soon enough, Megumi started to sleep.

But said sleep wasn’t peaceful.

Looking up from the pages of your book, you noticed Megumi was tossing and turning. His blanket was no longer draped over his body but knocked onto the floor.

That was enough for you to shove your bookmark into your novel. It thumped lightly when you closed it before placing it on your nightstand. You moved Satoru’s heavy arm off of your lap — he groaned, but he didn’t fully awaken.

Quietly, slowly, you approached your restless son. God, how the sight of him suffering made your heart ache. Grabbing the fuzzy blanket off of the floor, you tossed it back over him. Then, as gently as you could, you raised the boy’s head, sat down, and guided his head to your lap.

Your soft fingers alternated between stroking his forehead and his hair. Your motherly touch was soothing. Unfamiliar. Healing.

“Everything’s alright, Megumi,” you whispered. “We love you.”

Megumi’s thrashing started to calm down. In his sleep, he released a deep breath, and the muscles of his face started to relax with every gentle brush of your fingers.

For the first time in quite a while, your son slept peacefully for the rest of the night.

🏷️: @marvel-girl3 @goldenglow149 @luaqsv @sstoru @pinkfemdolly @satorusgummies @therealmrsgojo @leehriie @iminlovewqr0w @odessa-is-my-queen @melodycelos

[cosmic-evening]

Hiiiii!!!! I have been craving fluff recently and I was wondering if you wanted to maybe write about domestic life with katsuki??? Where you have two kids (oldest is a girl and youngest is a boy) who are young (7 or sum) and just kinda how he would be as a father yknow? Only if you wanna or have the time I love your work thank you!!!🫶🫶🫶

ᯓ★ domesticity

bakugou x gn!reader; fluff

a/n: hi jazzy thank you so much for this request!! and thank you so much omg compliments of my work is the fastest way to my heart <3 katsuki is a stay-at-home dad in this

mha m.list | gen m.list

you've decided that the best part of your job is going home.

without fail, three blonde heads turn towards you as you step into the home, no matter what they're doing. it could be cooking, or playing a board game, or even be homework; all three of them practically leap up to greet you at the door.

katsuki would carefully remove your coat and place it on the hanger, before coming to give you a hug and kiss. your kids would express their disgust; but neither you nor katsuki could bring yourselves to care too much.

and before long, there would be a hot meal at the dining table, your kids excitedly talking about their day. it's endless chatter and laughter, occasionally interrupted when katsuki chides one of them for spilling some food on the table.

after dinner, when you and katsuki had made absolutely sure that the two troublesome kids had finished their homework (they always say yes; nine times out of ten, they were lying), you'd settle down to watch a movie.

and tonight, your kids had enthusiastically chosen tangled as their movie for the night.

to no one's surprise, your little girl was the most excited about it, already swooning over flynn rider before the movie had even started.

"do you think flynn rider would take me to see the lanterns if i grew my hair long?"

you, of course, were more than happy to indulge in her.

"i think you would find a flynn rider no matter how long your hair is, darling."

katsuki was less than happy about that.

and of course, there would be pillow forts.

your oldest—only seven years old, and proud of it—was very methodical with hers. experience with pillow fights had taught her a lot. you'd gladly joined her fort when you finished washing the dishes.

your youngest—who'd just turned five years old, and that's a big number, thank you very much—was very creative with his. you couldn't help but laugh when you saw katsuki's face as he struggled to keep it from toppling over.

"maybe you don't need quite so many pillows in the fort?"

it's the fourth time katsuki had to help your son restart his fort.

"what if it's cold?"

"i don't think stacking them on top of the fort won't do anything to keep you warm-"

"dad! stop being a party pooper!!"

you secretly snap a photo of katsuki's defeated expression.

it's chaotic, it's loud—but after you finally settled down to watch the movie, you could feel katsuki's warm , adoring gaze on you. and not long after, you feel his arms wrapping around you. he squeezes your arm three times—i love you.

you squeeze four times back.

i love you too.

and minutes before rapunzel is reunited with her family, you realise that katsuki and the kids have fallen asleep.

and you think, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, that you're so lucky to be with the people you love.

[zepskies]

Yay!!! Omg your comments here couldn't have come at a better time (after a long ass day of unfruitful apartment search lol). But how I know you raged at Part 2 AND parts of Part 1 🤣🤣. That Dean gif is TOO accurate for this chapter lmfaoo.

Plus Sam's interjections 😆:

First of all, I loooove Fools Rush In and haven't watched it in ages! You've been reminding me of all the good 2000s rom-coms lately 😎💕

Aww it's one of my favorite movies ever and I had just rewatched it recently before I got this request, so that's why it was probably subconsciously just embedded in my brain for If I Stay. 😂 YES the 90s and 2000s were the best for rom-coms I think. 💗💗

And "I Can't Help Falling in Love" was my wedding song (but the twenty one pilots ukulele cover). Since we got married in Vegas, I didn't want to go too Elvis, but still give a nod to it 😆

Omg really??? I like that version too, that's so fun! lol I get not wanting to be too "on the nose" with it. 😂😂 I was actually listening to the whole soundtrack for Fools Rush In and thought "I Can't Help Falling in Love" was the perfect song theme, along with "It's Now or Never" for Part 2. 😆❤️❤️

This was such a vivid image, btw. Instantly tells you everything you need to know about the bride and groom, and I'm fully agreeing with Dean's toast skills 😂

Ahh thank you hahaa! This was one of those little setup moments I had fun with, imagining Sam/Eileen as the power couple (Dean as his usual self), while the reader is more Dean's wavelength -- good burgers and delicious cake. 😜

He's the devil lol. Sam should've locked him up 😂

*snorts* Right? He has no business being allowed out with civilized people. 🤣🤣

And all her rambling made me realy fall in love with her! She's so sweet and a genuinely good human through and through ❤️

Awww I love that so much, thank you!! She's a softie for sure. 🥹❤️ I feel like when you work with elementary kids, you tend to have that kind of heart that's just big for everyone, and I felt like Dean would find that endearing (if fun to tease lol). 💓

This is such amazing foreshadowing btw 😂😂

LMFAO - exactlyyyyy. 😏

This was my first heart drop lol. I knew after that, they'd never get back to it 🙈

Ugh fuckin' Dean, amirite?! You just want him to get his head out of his ass. 😆

Sam went full bitch mode. It's my favorite Sam 😆

Girl saaaame. 👏🏽 Bitch Face activated. lol~

I fucking SCREAMED during this! You don't know how much. I wanted to shake that stupid boy till the earth trembled 🤣🤣

Ikr?? lmao what a dummy.

But omg you're so valid for this -- thank you for calling the reader out too!:

And I hated her for lying here instead of downright saying "Hey, I don't do casual. This was a one time exception for me" because then Dean could've said "Oh no, I meant a real date." This story is an amazing accumulation of what ifs. My mind was spinning 😅

She's certainly not perfect in this either. It's that way of kind of protecting herself from embarrassment, maybe trying to let him down easy too. 😅 And Dean not trying hard enough to make it sound like a date! This story really is full of what ifs and missed opportunities. I'm sorry for making your head spin on this one, friend! 😆😆

Aww, Benny, we truly don't deserve you 😭😭

Benny is literally the best and I can't bring myself to write him any other way. 😭

But he reacted in full Dean fashion. I never doubted he wouldn't be there for her ❤️ (Although not breaking up with Lisa was so incredibly idiotic. The frustrations that came from this gaaaah 😂)

LOL first of all, that Ross gif just about killed me. 🤣🤣 Inside Dean was like:

But he really pulled through for the reader, at least in this moment! He might be a hot mess, but he's still a good man with a big heart. 💗💗

He was so sweet here 😭❤️ My heart burst. And again, I just wanted him to dump Lisa and fucking be with reader grrrr

Ugh Goddd we talked about Lisa over on Patreon so I fully understand your hatred of her in Part 1. 😆 But that moment at the end with Dean and reader on the side of the road was honestly my favorite to write. There's a lot left unspoken, and if he'd just realize how much he already likes her (and was honest about it), maybe all the drama in Part 2 wouldn't have had to happen. 🤣🤣

Dude, fully triggered a Swiftie here at the end 🤣 But honestly fitting since this entire story pretty much has the drama and angst of a ten minute break up song 😆❤️ With that, I leave you till the next part where there will be just a row of gifs with people screaming and sobbing 🤪

Oooh forgive me I'm not a Swiftie (though I do like a couple of her songs!), so I'm sorry for unintentionally triggering you on that one! LOL but you're so right -- this whole fic is like an angsty breakup song (with a surprise happy ending 😝).

I can't wait to catch up with you after Part 2 drops!!

IF I STAY - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: Yes, here’s another firefighter AU! Based on a request from one of my lovely Patreon members: @redhoodieone. She requested pretty much all the major beats of this story, so hopefully I did her request justice! This is also partially inspired by Fools Rush In, a beautiful movie with Salma Hayek and Matthew Perry (Rest in Peace, King).

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis

Word Count: 8.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, thick thirty, hints of body insecurity, but also body appreciation, angst, and hurt/comfort.

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 1: Fools Rush In

Slowly, your eyes slide open into the waking world. Your head is resting on something warm, firm…and a little sweaty. You pick your head up, despite the disorienting, muddy feeling of a slight hangover.

A groan bubbles in your throat. Your gaze travels downward, and you realize that what you’re looking at is more of a who.

Your eyes widen. Oh…my…God…

Not only are you very naked, but your firm pillow is too. It happens to be your best friend’s brother.

Yes, holy fucking shit! You slept with your best friend’s brother.

Biting the inside of your lip, you can’t help but take him in, here in the raw light of day as he lays peacefully on his back. His head lolls to the side on your usual pillow. Your eyes roam over the bow of his lips, the dark eyebrows, lightish brown hair that's softer than it should be between your fingers.

He’s painfully handsome. There’s a slight hesitation in your touch, but you softly trace the cut of his jaw and the stubble spread across it. That roughness feels familiar, and not just under the pads of your fingers, though the thought makes you blush. You begin to remember the night before, almost like a movie reel through your mind… 

Ooooh, right. That’s what happened.

It starts at Sam Winchester’s joint bachelor-bachelorette party at a nice hotel downtown. He and Eileen aren't the "strippers and coke" kind of party couple. They're more the "wine and brie en croute with pickled olives" on the expensive crackers you can't afford—kind of couple.

They look perfectly in love, if a bit long-suffering while Dean gives a hilarious, somewhat inappropriate, but still ultimately heartwarming toast to their happiness. After lowering the glass of champagne from his lips, his gaze catches on yours in the crowd. You suck in a subtle breath. 

Technically you’ve met him already, being one of Eileen’s bridesmaids, but there’s something about his green eyes that pin you to the floor. When he hands over the mic to Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, his head turning away from you to offer her a smile breaks the spell. It allows you to breathe.

Dean later finds you by the bar. You’re drinking a rum and coke with your slice of cake, trying not to get a single crumb on your dress. You've put a lot of work into affording it, let alone fitting in it. He leans his elbows casually on the counter and looks over at you.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he nods at you with a smile, subtly taking you in first. Then, his eyes go to your plate. “Ooh, red velvet. Gotta get me some of that.”

You smile back at him. “It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, looks good in your hand,” he says, adding a teasing wink for good measure.

You don't know why that does it for you, but a half-flattered, half-nervous laugh tumbles out of your mouth. Sam has warned you before about Dean. Apparently his older brother is a bit of a flirt; a ladies’ man.

A man whore, are the words Eileen used.

You’re honestly surprised he’s talking to you when Eileen’s other bridesmaids, Lisa and Jo, are sipping martinis together down at the other end of the bar. Guess they didn’t want cake.

They look beautiful in their lithe, strapless little cocktail dresses. You’ve had to give up chocolate, bread, and cheese for three months straight to fit into this dress, something slinky and red that drapes over your thicker, curvy figure. But you’re proud of the fact that you’re letting yourself eat cake tonight, even though you’ve often felt like Mrs. Doubtfire while standing for pictures next to Lisa and Jo.

They’re Eileen’s friends, not so much your crowd. No matter how much you’ve tried to get to know them while helping the wedding planning in whatever way you can, you still get a high school clique vibe from the women, if with more “polite smiles.” Then they’ll typically go back to talking about crystal centerpieces��or whatever in-depth conversation they were having before you were there. 

But right now, Dean’s focus is on you. When he asks you more about yourself, you tell him about recently earning an elementary education degree.

“Ah, but you already knew that, because Sam told you we graduated college together,” you realize, with warmth tingeing your cheeks. That subject came up pretty quickly when he introduced you to his brother.

Dean’s smile confirms your suspicions, so you just keep filling the silence on reflex.

“Well, I actually just started teaching my first ever semester of second graders. They’re a bit of a handful, but overall, they’re really sweet.” Your smile falters. “Except for this one kid who likes to put little tacks on my chair. He’s kind of a menace, but I think if I bribe him with enough lollipops, he’ll give it a rest. I mean, it’s a behavioral issue and I should probably call his parents. But it's kind of hard to tell them their son is trying to make my ass into a pincushion."

Dean's laugh comes out in a sharp burst, like he wasn't expecting what just came out of your mouth. You didn't either, honestly. You giggle more out of embarrassment, ducking your head.

"He’s in second grade, you know?" you say, in between laughter. "I don't think that little footnote needs to end up on his permanent record. But then there's Micah. He's so friggin' smart. He can read at the fifth grade level already. Can you believe that? And I know I'm not supposed to have favorites, but his grades on his spelling tests get him a spot in the comfy bean bag chair pretty much every Friday. Honestly, I think that's what I like about working with kids. I get to see that spark on their face when something just finally clicks for them. Their little faces get all bright and happy and…ugh. God, I'm sorry. I'm rambling, right?”

You stop yourself with a hand sliding over your mouth, not quite covering your smile of embarrassment.

Dean’s grin just widens, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

"It's okay. I kinda like it," he teases.

You duck your head, biting your lip against a groan. He chuckles and reaches out for your hand, earning your nervous glance. He quirks his head.

“Hey, you're passionate about what you do, helping kids. That's nothin' to be ashamed of,” he says, brushing his thumb over your hand. “But sweetheart, I gotta ask. Am I making you nervous or something?”

God, yes, you think, especially at that sweetheart thing. It’s making your heartbeat tick up a syncopated rhythm, but you shake your head, biting the straw of your rum and coke.

“No, not at all,” you say, in a hopefully “breezy” kind of way. You touch your fingers to his wrist. “Tell me about you though. Sam mentioned that you’re a firefighter?”

“Ah, yeah. Firefighter in training,” he says, with a more genuine smile.

He just started at the Fire Academy, and he tells you about all the drills he’s had to learn and all the training he’s had to do to be able to keep up with his classes. You subtly eye him while you sip at your drink, and you notice the crisp cut of his buttoned-down shirt and leather jacket, the definition of muscle across his thighs under the slacks, even while he casually sits.

Your gaze subtly travels down his long bowed legs, smart dress shoes. His cologne is woody and masculine, but not overpowering; maybe bergemot and sandalwood. It pleasantly wafts under your nose every time he gestures with his hands while he talks.

“Aw man, I can’t hold out anymore. I think I need to get me some of that cake before it’s gone,” he says, getting up from his chair.

You’re a bit disappointed that he’s leaving, until he stops short.

“You want another piece?” he offers, gesturing at your empty plate that’s been resting on the counter.

You blink in surprise, but you shake your head. “Oh, no. I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not? It’s a party,” Dean reasons. His grin is too damn infectious. It has you smiling, and begrudgingly agreeing.

Not only does he bring you more cake, but you watch him eat three whole slices before he asks you to dance.

The rest of it flashes through your mind like strobe lights—the way he’d started small and respectful with his larger hand closed over yours and the other along the curve of your waist. He guided you closer and closer, until you were turned around into his arms, and you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

You felt his lips teasing your skin. Then those hands tantalizingly drifted down your every soft curve, as if showing you a preview of everything he could do to you, and every way he’d make you come apart. You believed him.

And when he whispered in your ear, asking if he could take you home, you let him.

You let him drive you in that big black piece of history he drives. Used to be my dad’s car, he said. A Chevy something. You couldn’t really remember much when his hand was drifting up and down your thigh like that.

His presence burned hot at your back when you two eventually got to the front door of your apartment, your hands just barely shaking as you got the key in. Twist and click—

He waited until you flipped the lights on. Then he turned you around slowly in his arms and pulled you in close, all the while asking you with his eyes and raised brows. This okay? You want this?

“Do I still make you nervous?” he asked, his lips twitching at a smile when yours do.

You nodded, uttering a small giggle. “In a good way.”

That was when he finally kissed you, hot and slow, like he meant to devour you whole. He moaned at the taste of you, at the feel of your ass squeezed in his hands. You clung onto him strong, breathing into his kiss and trying to meet every single demand of his lips.

It soon became a fiery tear to your bedroom, one lamp flicked on, hot breaths and nice clothes crumpled to the floor. You didn’t feel self-conscious even once when he guided you under him on the bed, because he wasted no time in taking you apart, inch by inch.

His lips kissed and licked and sucked a burning trail down your neck, over your collarbone and between your breasts. You felt his hardened length trapped between your bodies while his hands explored you, teasing your breasts and sensitive nipples, and he mapped his way down with his lips.

You explored every part of him you could—every dip of muscle, firm shoulders and the slopes of his back, and then back up to tangle in his hair. Your heated gasps and whimpers filled the room when his sinful mouth found what it was looking for between your legs.

It wasn’t often that you had a strong pair of shoulders to rest your thighs on, but Dean’s grip was hard enough to leave deep fingerprints of pressure on each thigh while he slipped his tongue through your folds and feasted on you.

“D-Dean, oh God,” you gasped. Every sound you made was a sensuous symphony in his ears, washing over his skin and making the well of his desire churn hot in his lower belly. He had to roll his hips into the mattress for some relief for his aching cock, even while he moved his mouth up to your clit, circling the swollen bud with his tongue. He had enough room to slip two fingers deep inside your sopping wet channel, exploring you deeply, stroking and twisting to find what you needed.

Your thighs trembled and squeezed tight on either side of his head. When he sucked your clit tight between his lips, you uttered as gasping moan as that coil snapped its release. Your inner walls fluttered around his fingers. Yours clenched tightly in his hair, threatening to rip out a few strands.

Dean stroked you all through your first orgasm, giving slower licks to your clit. He seemed to sense when you couldn’t handle anymore though. You tugged more sharply on his hair, and he finally pulled away, moving back up your body to gauge your reaction.

You’d collapsed boneless against the bed, but you still managed to smile up at him as you caught your breath.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked. But his self-satisfied grin almost made you laugh. You took his glistening face between your hands and pulled him down for a grateful kiss.

After a moment to savor your lips, he broke away for a second to catch his breath himself. You stroked his back all the while.

“You know, for a minute down there, I thought you might not let me come back up,” he teased.

You choked on a laugh, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Honestly wouldn’t have minded if you did suffocate me,” he chuckled, accompanied by a slap to your left ass cheek. You squealed, and blushed hotly at the way he was grinning down at you.

“Ready for more, baby? Or you want to call it a night?” he asked. His tone was playful, but it was actually a serious question. You blinked in surprise. You’d never had a guy be this, well…generous, and not expect anything in return, especially not for just a hookup.

But you shook your head and sat up, slipping a hand behind Dean’s neck. After a beat of hesitation, you guided him down to you for a slow, sensuous kiss.

“No, I don’t want to call it a night,” you whispered. Your hand drifted down his bare chest, and lower still. You showed him just how well you could return the favor.

And now, come the morning, you’re blushing down to your neck as each scene flashes through your mind. You feel the ghost of his hands all over your body, and how you’d never quite felt quite as bold and sexy and beautiful with a near stranger as you had with Dean effing Winchester. Your best friend’s brother.

You begin to worry your bottom lip with your teeth. How the hell are you going to tell Sam? Especially after he warned you about exactly this. Plus, there’s a reason you don’t typically do the one-night stand thing, and this has the potential to become something very complicated.

You know what, it’s fine! you think. We’re two consenting adults. We’re both single. And maybe…maybe it could be more than a hookup. Maybe we can see each other again, see where it goes.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Dean says, his voice croaking with sleep.

You look down at him in surprise. His eyes have cracked open and he has your hand captive, stopping you from continuing to idly trace patterns on his bare chest. You smile in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you say. Again, you bite your lower lip. “Um, good morning.”

“Morning, sweetheart,” he grins lazily. “You sure wore me out last night.”

Your smile becomes more genuine, even if you turn your face away somewhat shyly.

“Aw, don’t do that,” Dean says. He slides his hand up your arm and behind your neck, tangling into your already tangled hair when he guides you down to his lips for a kiss. “You were awesome.”

You giggle against his lips. “Really?”

“Hell, yeah,” he says, kissing you again.

You shake your head a little. “You were…”

Amazing. Unbelievable. Probably the best night I’ve ever had.

“Perfect,” you decide. Because it’s the truth. The word comes out of your mouth before you can filter yourself though, making you pause. Dean does too, but after a beat, he slowly smiles.

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

You lick your lips, and you nod. “Definitely.”

“Well, then,” he says. His hand moves down to squeeze your hip. “You down for a repeat performance?”

You smile. “Only if I get a turn.”

Bracing your hands on his chest, you slide your thigh across his lap so you can straddle his hips. Dean grins and goes along with your idea. He gets a nice healthy handful of your thighs and helps settle you on top of him. But first, he reaches over into your nightstand drawer and finds another condom, ripping it open with his teeth.

Just like you did for him last night, you take the packet, as well as his generous length in your hands. You gently stroke him to full mast, smiling pleased at his groan of pleasure. Then you carefully fit the condom over him.

“You’re so gentle with me,” he teases. 

“Just returning the favor,” you quip, just before you position him at your wet entrance. Slowly, you sink down over his cock.

You both moan at the feeling of him stretching you again, warm and thick and fitting perfectly nestled deep inside. There had been moments last night where he wasn’t all that gentle, actually, but his passion had only spurred yours on more. You know you’ll probably find fingerprint marks on your thighs and ass, but it’s fucking worth it, you think, as you begin to bob a rocking rhythm that serves you both.

Dean arches his back underneath you, his knees coming up to press against your ass.

“Goddamn, baby. Givin’ me quite a show,” he says, in a panting voice that’s deep as sin.

You utter a breathy laugh.

Dean means it though. He’s enjoying the way you brush your hair out of your face, your beautiful tits in his face while you truly let loose for him. He guides you by the stronghold he has on your hips, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he ruts up into you, meeting your thrusts.

Your breath quickens, your nails digging into his chest on reflex, and your heart races as that delicious pleasure builds. But when Dean snakes a hand between you and further parts your folds to massage tight circles over your clit, your vision flashes white. You utter a scream of pleasure on his name, your inner walls choking him tight as you throb around his cock. His release hits him like a goddamn freight train.

“Aw, fuck,” he grunts.

He slams your hips down hard, making your thighs slap against his. A ragged groan escapes him in a rush. His hands move to your thighs just under your ass, where his fingers press into flesh hard enough to leave forensic ID, giving him leverage to bury himself deep into your pussy as he spills a hot release into the condom.

Goddamn…

He can almost imagine that he’s coming free inside you, that you’re milking his cock for every drop, until there’s nothing left for him to give.

The thought surprises him. It almost takes him out of the moment, honestly. That’s not a thought he’s ever had before—not with a woman he barely knows (which is most of his hookups, if he’s honest).

In that delicious, fractious moment just after it hits, it’s like those few seconds are suspended in zero gravity. Your arms are shaking, and your forced to collapse against his chest. Dean welcomes you there for a little while, letting you come down while he smooths a hand over your hair.

Though he can't help the urge to let his big hand drift down over your dewy skin, down the gentle slope of your back and over the curve of your generous ass. He gives one cheek a teasing slap. The sound echoes in the room.

"Goddamn perfect ass," he says roughly, smirking at your squeal. You end up grinning hard against his neck.

"'S that my new nickname?" you quip.

He chuckles deeply, moving you along with his chest. "Hell, sweetheart, if you want it to be."

Eventually, you lean back to give him a smile and one last kiss before you pull away from him. You slip off his lap to find your robe, at least. You definitely need a shower.

“So I’m thinking, after we get cleaned up, I could make us some breakfast,” you offer. “Or if you want, maybe we could go somewhere. I know a little diner down the block.”

“I like the sound of food,” Dean agrees with a smile. Ge reaches over for his phone on the nightstand, to check the time. His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”

He has to get his ass over to the Fire Academy. He has class in barely twenty minutes.

He tears out of bed and nearly trips on the coiled sheets.

“Sorry. Gonna need to take a raincheck,” he says. He hurries to find his clothes strewn all over your bedside floor.

“What’s the matter?” you ask with wide eyes. You cross your arms under your breasts, but it’s more like you’re hugging yourself over your robe. You watch him tear through your bedroom in a tempest of movement.

Dean spares you a glance, but not much else as he yanks up his slacks and belt and dress shirt.

“Gotta get to class,” he confesses. Thank God he has his uniform in the trunk of his car for exactly these kinds of emergencies. He grabs his phone, wallet, and keys, and quickly kisses you on the cheek. He gazes down at you apologetically. “Sorry I gotta cut and run, sweetheart, but it’s been fun.”

Your smile barely reaches your eyes. He’s pressed for time, but he still notices.

He slows himself down and cups your cheek. “Hey.”

He gets your pretty eyes looking up at him, and he gives you a real kiss, nice and slow. He cradles your cheek and brushes his thumb across your skin.

“Thanks,” he says. His now familiar grin manages to make you smile. “And I mean that.”

You shake your head at him. “Okay go, Mr. Future Fireman. Be safe out there, okay?”

He gives you a playful salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

You can’t help but laugh. This guy’s too much. But you don't think you've had this much fun having sex in...

All right, let's not put a timeframe on it.

You watch him leave your apartment, even though you have a sinking feeling in your chest. You knew this was just a hookup for him, for both of you. Part of you just couldn’t help hoping that it could’ve led to something more. 

Dean means to call you.

He really does.

After that truly awesome, you shook me all night long, kind of a night, he thinks about you more than he’d like to admit over the next few weeks. However, he finds himself locked into his training. He’s so close to finishing strong and earning his badge, he just can’t afford any more distractions.

Still, he should’ve known that Sam would find out—either through Eileen, or through you directly. He also should’ve expected the way his brother let him have it.

���And you didn’t even fucking call her. See? This is why I don’t set you up with any of my friends anymore,” Sam bitches at him from his side of the small two-seater dinner table. They still share an apartment, though in just a month and a half, Sam’s going to be moving out. He and Eileen already found a house that they’re moving into after the wedding.

“Look, I was going to call her, man. They’ve just been bustin’ my ass at the Academy!” Dean argues.

“Bullshit.” Sam levels him with the same finger that holds his beer.

Dean’s brows raise, high and annoyed. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit. Because if you really liked her, respected her, and respected me, you would’ve made the time,” Sam says.

That falls heavy between the brothers for a moment while they eat their pizza.

“Look, I know her. She doesn’t do hookups that often, which means…she probably liked you,” Sam adds. “And honestly, when are you going to give it a real try with someone? You can only visit that free clinic so many times.”

Dean shoots him a glare. He’s had a clean bill of health from said clinic for six months straight.

“Jesus Christ. Enough, all right?” he grouses. “What’re you, Mom?”

“I’m just saying,” Sam says, lowering his crust to the plate. He levels his brother with a more earnest look, lightening up from his anger. “Look, if it’s about what happened to Dad—”

“What, you mean the way he drank himself to death after Mom died?” Dean says. His voice cuts through whatever softball glove Sam is trying to handle him with. “You think that’s the kind of thing I should be looking for in my life?”

“Oh, and what, do you think I’m making a mistake marrying Eileen?” Sam counters.

Dean sighs, shaking his head. “Damn it, don’t put words in my mouth. That’s not what I’m saying, it’s just…I don’t know. Maybe that kind of life—the house, the wife, the 2.5 kids and the dog. Maybe that’s just not my life, okay?”

Sam gives him a long look. He lets go of a deep breath, and he shrugs.

“Okay,” he says. “If you think hooking up night after night for the rest of your life is going to make you happy, then fine.”

Dean nods, glad that they can put an end to this little After School Special.

“Okay.”

Still, he can’t finish his third slice of pizza. He keeps picturing your face when he left you that morning. No matter how you tried to hide it, he still saw the tinge of disappointment in your eyes. It brews something uncomfortable in his stomach, and a sting in his chest.

You’re eating lunch alone in your classroom, finally on your break, when an unfamiliar number flashes across your phone screen. You look down at it in confusion, but with all the caterers and florists and things you’ve helped Eileen with on the wedding, you figure it could be important. You pick up the call and greet whoever’s on the line.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

You drop your ham and cheese on your keyboard, gaping in surprise.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he chuckles slightly. “Sorry, I know it’s been a minute.”

You frown, because you’re confused more than anything.

“Yeah, like almost a month,” you reply. You put the call on speaker so you can grab up your sandwich and quickly brush off the crumbs from your keyboard. You struggle to say something cool, clever, sexy even. “I’m okay. Just, um…what’s up?”

Smooth, real smooth. You cover your eyes with your hand.

“Nothin’, I was just thinking of that night,” he says. “I had a good time.”

Your frown deepens, despite the beginning of a blush warming your cheeks. If he’s calling you just for another hookup…

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.”

And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

“I could make us some burgers, toss in a couple of beers and a movie night,” he adds.

That part throws you though, you’re not going to lie. What, is this a Netflix and chill situation—with a side of fries?

You consider it. You weigh pros and cons at a frightening speed in your mind, almost like Sherlock Holmes contemplating the layout of a dead body and deducing within moments that his wife committed the murder, despite the man no longer wearing a ring.

You want to let yourself be bold and spontaneous and carefree...but it's just not who you are at your core. You're a planner, a cautious person who looks three ways before crossing the street. Letting Dean take you home that night was certainly one of the most spontaneous, wild things you've done since your friends took you out to a strip club after you aced your final round of exams back in college.

(Sam hadn't been there that night, but he did get an embarrassing drunken text from you at 3:00 a.m., along with a few shame-ridden pictures fueled by questionable substances. Yes, he still had the evidence.)

You just don't know if it's smart to let yourself hookup with Dean again. Mostly because you know your heart has the tendency to get attached, no matter how much you warn it not to.

“You know, Dean, I’m pretty busy with my job right now. I just started here a couple of months ago, and I think I just need to focus on that right now,” you say. Part of it isn’t a lie, even though your soft heart is stinging.

“Ah, okay. Yeah. I get that,” he says. You hear his disappointment too. “But I just need to say, I really am sorry for not calling you sooner.”

Your lips tug at a smile. “It’s okay, Dean. Look, you’re Sam’s brother. I just feel like, maybe it’s better if you and I stay friends.”

“Friends, huh?” Dean says wryly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t have three rounds of steamy hot sex with any of my friends.”

Your blush comes swiftly again, burning in your cheeks.

“Be that as it may,” you say, “I just don’t want to do anything that will distract from Sam and Eileen’s wedding.”

“Oh, I’m a distraction, huh?” Dean says flirtatiously. 

You begin to smile in earnest. “I think you know damn well what you are, Dean Winchester.”

His deep chuckle practically resonates through the phone and into your chest, going straight down to your pussy. You clench on nothing just at the sound of his voice, making you cross your legs under your skirt. Dear God…

How are you supposed to be even remotely normal around this man now? 

But for Sam’s sake (and your own), you’ll have to try. 

Two months later, Dean has taken Sam’s dating advice to heart. A week or so after you turned him down, he ran into Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, while he was at the grocery store buying beer and Twizzlers. She was a smart, sharp, sexy brunette. A yoga instructor, he soon found out. So he took a chance on asking her out. They’ve been going slow and steady ever since. 

Dean hasn’t heard from you since the rehearsal dinner, but he sees you again at his brother’s wedding. All the bridesmaids are wearing long, royal blue dresses that drape off the shoulders and hug the bust and waist, flaring gently at the skirt. Lisa and Jo wear it beautifully, their hair perfectly smooth and coiled. 

But when you step out into the hall outside the church ballroom to join them, Dean actually pauses in what he’s saying to his brother. He nearly double takes when you enter his line of vision—mostly because he hasn’t seen you in a dress since that night. You were sexy as hell then, a lady in red. 

Today, you’re absolutely stunning. 

After greeting Sam with a warm hug, you turn to him with a nervous kind of smile. “H-Hey, Dean.”

With that, he snaps out of it. Dean smiles, eyes crinkling, and goes over to give you a hug as well.

“Good to see you,” he says, trying not to inhale too much of your nice perfume. It’s even in your hair.

“You too,” you reply. Your smile is a little brighter, more genuine. Though there’s something behind your eyes that he can’t quite place.

What he doesn’t notice is the way Lisa is watching you and her boyfriend, a hint of suspicion on her face.

You do though. You pull away from Dean and assemble into a line with Lisa at the helm. As the Best Man, Dean stands with her, followed by Jo and Brady, another one of Sam’s buddies. You and Benny bring up the rear. Benny’s dad used to work with John, Sam and Dean’s father, on the police force.

According to Sam, John Winchester worked a beat for twenty-six years before his liver finally gave out on him. Dean almost went to the Police Academy to follow in his dad’s footsteps, but Benny, already working his way up to Lieutenant, suggested Dean become a smoke eater instead. The suggestion stuck.

Benny Lafitte is slightly shorter than Dean, but just as broad-shouldered, his auburn beard neatly trimmed. Even though you might’ve thought he was rough around the edges at first, his kind blue eyes spoke the contrary. He offers you his arm like a gentleman.

“Well aren't I lucky, getting the prettiest girl on my arm,” he says, with a charming smile.

You smile, and even begin to blush at the way he subtly takes note of you from head to toe.

“Well, thank you. You’re very handsome yourself. Although, hold on.” You slip your arm out of his for a moment so that you can fix his tie. It’s slightly crooked. You make sure that it lays flat under his collar, smoothing down all the edges and picking off any small dust particles that landed on his collar. Benny watches you with an indulgent smile.

“Am I good?” he asks.

“Very,” you reply.

“I appreciate it, thank you,” he says. You don’t know if he means to sound flirtatious, but his voice is a deep drawl that washes over you pleasantly. You find yourself blushing down to your neck as you slip your arm back around his.

You also don’t notice how Dean glances at you and Benny over his shoulder.

As much as you love Sam and Eileen, it’s difficult for you to keep your mind from spinning into fractals as the ceremony goes on. You can’t help but glance at Dean. He stands there behind Sam dutifully, but you see brotherly pride in Dean’s eyes, in his smile. It makes you smile too. You too love Sam like a brother, and it brings a well of happy tears to your eyes to watch him have his moment with his new wife.

It just also reminds you of what you need to do.

After the ceremony ends and the bridal party files out behind the bride and groom, you excuse yourself from Benny apologetically. You wait until Lisa and Jo go off to take pictures with Sam and Eileen, and you grab Dean’s wrist, pulling him aside.

“I need to talk to you,” you whisper.

Dean gives you a confused look. “They’re gonna need us for the pictures.”

“I know, but this is important,” you say. Your voice trembles with nerves, and so do your hands. Dean notices, frowning in concern. He grasps your arm to try and steady you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Just come with me,” you implore him. You take his hand and lead him into the women’s dressing room attached to the church sanctuary you all just came out of.

Dean raises his brows at the mess you and the rest of the bridesmaids have made of the room—pantyhose and makeup and clothing litter the floor and most available surfaces, while leftover breakfast sandwiches, grapes, salami, and cheddar cheese cubes are splayed out across one of the vanity counters. Dean is tempted to steal a morsel, but he focuses on you first.

You close and lock the door, which makes his brows raise high again. You know he has a girlfriend now, right?

“Uhh, look, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but—”

You heave a sigh. Again, you take his hand and guide him to sit with you at the vanity. The old stools squeak, the overhead lights a bit too bright. This is not where you want to do this, but you can’t hold it in anymore.

“Dean, I’m pregnant,” you confess.

He freezes. His breath stills in his lungs. His eyes slowly widen as the words click in his brain.

“What?” His head tilts, as if he didn’t hear you right.

You squeeze his hand; to ground him or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I’m about two months pregnant. I found out last week.”

Dean swipes his free hand over his mouth while he tries to compute. He squeezes your hand, tighter and tighter. He points to himself.

“It’s…it’s me? It’s mine?”

You give him a weary smile. “You’re the only one I’ve been with in the last few months. It could only be you.”

Oh fuck. The man’s face begins to pale as he descends into shock.

“But we…I used a condom,” he reasons. “All the—all the times!”

You bite your lip. If you weren’t freaking the fuck out yourself, you’d probably be laughing right now. Granted, you’ve had a bit more time to process this than Dean.

“I know, I was there,” you reply, releasing yet another sigh. “One of them probably broke. That’s all I can think of… Honestly, Dean, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just didn’t want to disrupt the ceremony or cause a scene before the wedding. But now you know.”

Dean falls silent then. He hasn’t let go of your hand, which you think is a decent sign. He’s likely forgotten that you’re still holding it as he stares off into the middle distance for several seconds.

Eventually, he shakes his head and returns his gaze to yours. He looks uncertain, his handsome face the true epitome of holy fucking shit.

You know the feeling.

But he asks the most important question.

“What do you want to do?”

Briefly you close your eyes as you take a breath. You squeeze his hand before you let go of him.

“I’ve thought about this a lot, and…I’m keeping the baby,” you tell him, though you raise placating hands. “I don’t want money, or anything like that. I just wanted you to know that it’s yours. How much you want to be in his or—or her life, that’s up to you.”

Dean takes a beat before he answers, but you don’t have to wait so long holding your breath.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. I’ll help you. Don’t worry,” he says.

And just like that, all the time you spent giving yourself pep talks for this, telling yourself that you’ll need to be strong no matter what he says, all of it crumbles into relief. Your lower lip trembles, and your body shudders as you break into tears. You try covering your face to hide your shame, but Dean grasps your shoulders.

“Hey, hey. It’s all right,” he says. He tentatively pulls you into a hug. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You nod into his dress shirt, probably staining him with your running makeup.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Thank you so much.”

He holds you a bit tighter in response.

You and Dean agree to keep this to yourselves for now, at least until Sam and Eileen get back from their honeymoon. It’s difficult to explain why your eyes are all red and your makeup is smudged, but you promise Sam that you’ll tell him later. You know it’s pointless to lie to him though. As a lawyer, his bullshit meter is far too high.

However, you also know that he’s half guessed it by the time you all make it to the reception. When you and Dean came out of that dressing room to join the bridal party for pictures, you're sure that you looked emotionally wrecked. Dean had looked pale as a sheet, his body coiled and tense, as willing himself to seem normal. Sam had clocked both of you with a raise of his brow, but he didn't say anything then, especially after you gave him a pleading look.

While Eileen greets her family without him for a moment, Sam pulls you aside. He notes your glass of diet coke, in a moderate sea of guests drinking champagne and cocktails.

“Are you okay?” he asks knowingly.

Tears well up in your eyes again. You don’t know if it’s your damn hormones going haywire, or just the way Sam asks you, with the love of a friend in his eyes. He squeezes your shoulder gently, prompting you with your name.

“Yeah, I think I will be,” you say.

"Is it the same reason you're not drinking?" he asks. "You and Dean earlier..."

You hesitantly confirm with a nod. Sam blows out a harsh sigh, raising folded hands to his mouth as he processes. You begin to look around on reflex, trying to see if anyone's watching you and Sam have this conversation in the middle of the reception. To your relief, everyone around you seems occupied with drinks, hours d'oeuvres and conversation.

“What did he say when you told him?” Sam asks. His gaze is firmer. You get the idea that if he doesn’t like what you tell him, then he’s about to go grab his brother by the ear himself.

You grab his wrist and give a placating squeeze. “He said he's going to help me, be there for me.”

“Damn right. So will I,” Sam nods, and glances back at Eileen, his new bride, with a smile. “We both will.”

“I know,” you nod as well. “I’ll be okay, Sam. You don’t have to worry so much. Just enjoy your wedding day. It’s the only one you’re gonna get. Well, you know…hopefully.”

You tease him with a wink.

Sam laughs, cupping your cheek. He kisses your other cheek.

“I love you, you know that right?” he says.

You give him a trembling smile through your tears.

Meanwhile, Dean has a beautiful woman in his arms. He turns Lisa on the dancefloor, trying not to trip on his own dress shoes, all the while knowing that his brain isn’t here in his body. It’s across the ballroom, watching you talk to Sam. Dean can tell that he knows, just in his Big Bird body language. He’d also recognize that accompanying Bitch Face anywhere.

“Dean, what’s wrong,” Lisa asks him, and not for the first time. She’s getting annoyed, he can tell. She finally looks over to where he keeps glancing, and she notices you with a frown. It’s also not the first time she’s caught him staring at you tonight.

“What was that earlier in the dressing room? She didn’t really get food poisoning, did she?” she asks pointedly. “What, did you two used to date or something?”

He gives a wan smile. “Yeah, kinda. We…had a thing once.”

“What kind of thing?”

Dean closes his eyes and tries to keep himself calm. He’s pretty sure if he tells her the truth right now, she’s going to find the nearest cocktail and dump it over his head.

But shit, here it goes.

“Well…”

After a long day at school, you drive over to Dean’s apartment. You’d agreed to meet there and wait for him to get off his shift at Firehouse 83, where he just started as a full-fledged firefighter on probation. When he gets home, he’s supposed to go with you to an important appointment with your OB-GYN. 

You were hoping he’d already be done with work by the time you got to his place, but Lisa's there to open the door for you. Apparently, he’d already given her a key.

Moving kind of fast, but okay, you think. A second later, you could’ve rolled your eyes at yourself. Pot, kettle, me. Got it.

Lisa greets you with a “polite” smile at best, but she does offer you water at least. You really can’t blame her for not liking you though. She found out her boyfriend got another woman pregnant right before he started dating her. Really, she has more balls than you for staying with him. You wouldn't put it past Dean to somehow have smooth-talked her into giving him a chance.

Or she really loves him. The thought sobers you as you lower yourself down to the couch beside her. Both of you sit there in silence for a moment, trying to figure out something to talk about.

“So, you’re what, six months pregnant?” she asks.

You correct her in thinly veiled annoyance. “Three months, actually.”

“Oh, wow. I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know why I thought it was six.”

You have a feeling her awkward chuckle is fake, however. She knew good and damn well that you’re not six months pregnant. In her eyes, you must be the size of a parade float. 

“If you want, I can recommend a holistic diet to help you get your body back after the baby’s born,” Lisa offers. “No pills, no chemicals. Just good clean weight loss.”

You feign interest. Honestly, you’d like her to cram that offer right up her hooch.

“I can even give you a discount if you want to try out yoga,” she says. “It’s low impact, but you burn plenty of calories. I have a beginner’s class, not too strenuous. Even my least flexible clients manage to do the poses.”

Is that why Dean likes you? Because you’re bendy? Bet if I sat on you, you’d pop like a fucking balloon.

You hide all of these thoughts behind a “polite” smile of your own.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you reply. It’s non-committal enough, but hopefully it’ll get her off your back.

No such luck.

“You know, maintaining a healthy diet is really important for the baby’s health too,” Lisa adds. “It’s not just about avoided raw fish and dairy products. Oh, and processed food is obviously a no-go. Like, I’m sure you haven’t been hitting Taco Bell and all that stuff, right?”

As a matter of fact, you’ve been eating clean since long before you got pregnant. Not that it’s any business of hers whether you enjoy the occasional quesadilla or not.

Your temper snaps at its leash. You open your mouth to reply, when the front door unlocks and opens to Dean, stepping in through the threshold.

Thank God, you and Lisa both think. She gets up quicker from the couch than you, greeting her boyfriend with a kiss. You avert your gaze while you begin to get up yourself.

Dean reaches out to help you, grasping your arm in support. You shoot him a smile.

“I can still get up by myself,” you snip.

“Yeah, all right. Just in case,” he says with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s rock and roll,” you say, trying to hide your worsening mood. You’re exhausted, and irritated, and probably more than a little hangry. Except now, the idea of food just has you feeling guilty for even being hungry.

“Bye, hun. Hope you have a good appointment,” Lisa says, giving your shoulder a pat. You give her the most genuine smile you can muster as you thank her. It's possibly that she's one of those women who don't realize when they're being cunty, but you find it highly unlikely. She's too smart for that.

You follow Dean out the door and over to his car, big and black and sleek as you remember. You settle into the passenger seat with your arms crossed in silence. Dean switches the cassette to one of his favorite Led Zeppelin albums, though he notices your grumpy face.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

You give him some side-eye, but you’re reluctant to say anything. You just shake your head. As irritated as you are, you don’t want to be the friend who badmouths his girlfriend.

God, are we even friends? You wonder. Or am I just his knocked-up baby momma?

And again, you realize that this whole situation is probably hard for Lisa. You just don’t know if she’s jealous, or if she just…doesn’t like you.

“I’m okay,” you tell Dean.

He raises a skeptical brow. Looks like Sam isn’t the only one with a finely tuned bullshit meter.

“All right, how about this,” Dean says. “Let’s grab some burgers after this, huh? From your favorite spot. Shake Shack, right? Side of fries, frozen yogurt. I think I’ll get chocolate this time… Hmm, I doubt Lisa will want anything. She’s gone on an all-vegan kick or something.”

For one shining moment, you were happy and touched at his consideration. But now your body stills in your seat when you remember Lisa’s words. Tears well up in your eyes with a hot sting, and a sob escapes your throat.

Dean is cut off from thinking about getting extra bacon on his burger. He looks over at you in alarm. “H-Hey, what’s the matter?”

You scoff at him through your tears. “Are you kidding me? I can’t eat burgers anymore, Dean. I was already fucking fat. Now it’s just gonna get ridiculous.”

“What?” Dean’s brows knit together in confusion, along with his deepening frown. It gets worse as he tries to watch the road ahead, while at the same time, watching you continue to crumble.

“And after the birth, I’m just going to be an even fatter slob who can’t take care of her baby,” you sniffle and weep, trying in vain to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself.

Dean grits his teeth, his jaw twitching. Fuck it.

He turns the steering wheel sharp enough to startle a gasp out of you.

“Dean!”

He pulls the car over onto the side of the road, ignoring the honking SUV behind him. He shifts into Park and shuts off the radio—a big red flag, in your opinion. He’s upset too, and fucking serious, more so than you’ve ever seen him. You stare back at him with wide eyes.

“I’ve never once heard you say that you’re fat,” he says.

You blink at that, but eventually, you’re able to get your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth. You wipe the remnants of tears from your cheeks. Your face is already hot from your upset, now tinged with embarrassment.

“You haven’t known me very long,” you say quietly.

It doesn’t help. Dean’s jaw ticks again.

“Well, I’ve never thought it. Not even once,” he says. His jade green eyes are firmly set on yours, and he gestures between you and him with a pointed finger. “The reason you and I are here right now, is because the minute I saw you, I wanted you.”

One corner of his lips kicks upwards. “And that night, you didn’t disappoint.”

Your mouth falls open slightly. You don’t know how to respond, but you do know that a full blush is warming your face and neck. His words have power, and unbidden, they bloom a similar warmth between your legs. You swallow a bit nervously as you bite your bottom lip.

Dean glances down at your mouth when you do. He can remember what your pretty mouth did for him that night. Oh, he remembers all too well. He even had the shade of your lipstick streaked across his skin until he showered up at the firehouse.

He locks that all away when shifts the car back into Drive. If you’re going to make it to this appointment on time, he needs to get going.

And you both have to leave whatever that was right here by the side of the road.

AN: Woo! 😮‍💨 Yep, this is only Part 1, friends. Lisa is a bit different in this. My take was that without Ben in her life, she might be less mature and a bit more catty. As we get into Part 2 I'll leave it up to you to decide why she decides to stay with Dean, and perhaps more importantly, where the reader and Dean can go from here as co-parents. 🤔

If you enjoyed Part 1, please let me know!~

Next Time in Part 2:

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look, I…I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours, and achingly familiar.

⋆˙⟡ Read Part 2 on Patreon now!

⋆˙⟡ Coming to Tumblr/Ao3 on 3/23

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[fou4summer]

I'm your one true love

yoo jaeyi × fem!reader

Synopsis: You knew that Jaeyi liked you, and you liked her too, but you always tried to deny it by dating other people. Then one day, after your recent breakup, Jaeyi comforts you and brightens your entire next day, eventually it makes you both confess.

Warnings: none

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Word count: 1.7k

You were in multiple relationships and they all ended up the same way. With you being cheated on or just both of you just deciding that it wont work out. After every breakup you would go to your bestfriend, Jaeyi, who always comforted you and made you forget about it easily.

She never had anyone even tho the whole school is head over heels for her. She would always say how she already has someone she likes. At first you would always annoy her to tell you who it is, but over time you kinda got it yourself. It was you.

You thought it would eventually stop and that it was just a stupid crush she had on you. Not until you started to feel the mutual feelings about her too. When things would get too risky like you two sitting alone too close to each other, you would always lie that theres a new guy that you like. Everytime her mood would shift, her smile dropping. One time it was a bit more than that...

You were in your room, watching movies and having fun. There was a romantic scene going on in one and she took glances at you. You turned your head towards her and you were inches away from each other.

Her hand was moving slowly on top of yours as she leaned closer. The worst of all you didn't back away. You even put your hand on her shoulder pulling her closer. Until you realized that this could ruin your friendship forever, and you would lose your best friend.

"I'm sorry I really can't do this..." You remove her hand away and stand up from your bed.

"You know I like that guy and-" You try to make up something, but she cuts you off.

"I'm gonna go..." She picks her bag and leaves before you could stop her. You heard in her shaky voice that she was about to cry. You felt so stupid for doing this to her. She was the best choice for you and you knew it.

Come on she rejected half the school and the most popular boys were being pathetic asking her out, but she refused to even look at them. Her eyes were always on you.

-

Now you were with this one guy. I mean he was popular, handsome and not that nice, but not rude. You got a bit of popularity while being with him so that was a plus too. Even tho you deep down knew you would be much more popular and happy if you were with Jaeyi. You just avoided the thoughts.

You were sure you found the perfect guy, until you caught him cheating right in front of you. You were actually a bit broken cause that was your longest relationship. You broke up with him after he tried to tell you how it 'isn't what it looks like'. You heard that sentence so many times you could literally predict when he would say it.

You were still friends with Jaeyi after that night that happened months ago from now. She apologized and it broke you even more.

You were in your room, crying and you felt horrible about doing that, but you still called Jaeyi. It was actually pretty late, around midnight, but she still picked up in an istant.

"Y/N? Is everything alright? Did something happen?" Her voice was raspy and tired making you smile to yourself that she cares about you that much to answer even this late.

"Hey Jaeyi...I'm sorry that im calling this late...It's just that he cheated on me and I broke up with him and I don't know what to do..." You sobbed between words wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

"Oh its okay sshhh...Do you want me to come over?" She said her voice calm and non-judgemental. You quickly replied with a quiet 'yes', feeling like a jerk for doing this to her.

"I'll be there in five minutes...Okay?" Her voice made you calm down a little, knowing that she'll be there soon. You ended the call and unlocked the front door. She opened the door coming in quietly so your parents don't wake up.

"Hey..." She peeked through the door of your room making you sit up a bit. When you saw her you started crying again.

"Y/N...It's okay now...I'm here..." She pulls you into a hug, wrapping her arms around you, holding you close. You put your head against her sweatshirt, soaking it with tears. She caressed your back while whispering sweet things to you until your crying stopped.

"How about we lie down hm?" She whispered and you just nodded. She lied down with your head resting on her chest.

"I'm sorry Jaeyi...I'm sorry..." You couldn't explain anything, but she knew what you were apologizing for.

"It's okay Y/N...I forgive you..." She ran her hand through your hair, making you feel sleepy.

"I love you..." You mumbled against her, your hand resting on her shoulder.

"I love you too Y/N...I love you so much..." Her words made you tear up again, but you didn't want to worry her again, so you just kept quiet until you both fell asleep.

-

You woke up to your mom calling you to eat. You groaned before looking at the time. It was 1PM already. You never slept that long. You also noticed that Jaeyi was gone. You ran out of your room, finding your parents at the table, both confused by your action.

"Where is Jaeyi?" They both smile at your face expression before your mom answered.

"She left awhile ago. She doesn't sleep till afternoon like someone here. She left you a note on your desk, you should check it out after having lunch." Your mom says placing food on your plate.

After eating, you hurried to your room to see the note she left you. It was on your desk and it said.

Come to todays school festival with me please. 6PM at the school gate. I'm looking forward to it and I have a suprise:)

Jaeyi

You smile at the note before turning around to find your mom standing there.

"You better not say that 'you are going out with some guy already' Y/N." She crossed her arms waiting for your answer.

"Don't worry, I'm going with Jaeyi this time. And stop reading my stuff!" You yell as you run to the bathroom to get ready.

-

You arrive at the school gate, about to text her, but you felt someone already tap your shoulder. When you turn around, you see Jaeyi in a beautiful pink cardigan that matched the pink tulips in her hand.

"This is my suprise!" She gives you the flowers making you smile and jump into her hug as she wraps her arms around you. She smelled just as gorgeous as she looked.

"Come on lets go!" You take her hand in yours before stepping into the festival.

That day was maybe the best one in your life. You ate popcorn, cotton candy and had cold drinks laughing and teasing each other all day. You went to the ballpit spending hours there like little kids.

-

You were now sitting at the bench that had a really nice view. You both looked at the stars as her hand slowly touched yours. It was obvious, she was nervous not wanting to make you uncomfortable. Not this time. You took her hand intertwining your fingers together and placing them in your lap.

She turned around to find you already looking at her. She was so cute and adorable. You were thinking to yourself 'How did I manage to reject this person so many times when she was the only one making me this happy?' She nervously smiled looking at you. You didn't want her to think that you'll do the same again.

You slowly leaned in, closing the distance between you. You felt her stiffen a bit, but she quickly relaxed kissing you back. You placed your arms around her neck, pulling her closer. One of her hands went down on your waist while the other caressed your face. You both broke the kiss to catch your breaths. You realized that no one kissed you like that before. It was so full of pure love.

"D-do you like the flowers...?" She broke the silence, her voice nervous and shy. You smiled nodding, making her smile too. You sat there looking at the stars and you kissed her a few more times making her smile into each one.

-

"Sooo...How did you like today?" You were walking back from the festival, holding hands.

"It was amazing. Thank you Jaeyi...You really made my day..." That made her chuckle squeezing your hand a little.

"Always." She looked at the beautiful sky above you. You wanted to just tell her that directly, your feelings for her. You stopped walking making her turn around confused and a bit worried.

"Is everything okay?" She asked and you give her a small nod before taking a deep breath. She needed to hear this.

"Jaeyi...I've liked you all this time. I just-I just didn't want to ruin our friendship or whatever...I was stupid and-" You were cut off by her lips against yours. The kiss turned into a bit more as her hands sneaked under your shirt resting on your lower back.

"You don't know how long i've waited for you to say that. You made me wait for so long..." She took your hand placing it on her cheek and you blushed at how she nuzzled her head into your hand.

"I'm sorry Jaeyi, but now I'll make it up to you for all those years rejecting you. I promise." You told her as she pulled you closer.

"Y/N...Will you be my girlfriend?" You smile instantly nodding and kissing her again.

"I knew from the start that I was always your true love..." She says against your lips before leaning in for more, but you stop her.

"Oh wow stop that!" You hit her arm playfully and she laughs.

She walks you to your house. You kiss and giggle a bit more in front before you eventually go home. Unfortunately your mom saw that and teased you for the whole month saying how she knew from the start. You never lost your bestfriend, she just became the best girlfriend that you never want to lose.

[bellesdreamyprofile]

The Great American Novel - Austin Butler

summary: you're a recently published author as you start dating hollywood's hottest actor austin butler, year after year the pressure becomes unbearable and the distance between the two of you gets more noticeable. will you two call it quits or keep pushing for a better end? — 3k words

You first met Austin through a secret set-up that Callum forced you both to be part of. You had no idea about his plans until you were sitting across from Austin in a café in New York. Words of pleasantries were always exchanged between the two of you, since you both hated the idea of being rude to somebody. He was in a relationship, you were in a relationship — you were never riding the same wave. Until you were, and Callum found out, immediately taking the situation in his own hands.

That coffee date changed your life.

"I'm staying here for the next few weeks, I gotta movie lined up.", Austin explained, swirling the coffee in his mug.

You hummed in interest. "Really? So you don't live here?", the blonde shook his head, his blue eyes back on you.

"I live in LA. From time to time I go back to Orange County. Nostalgia.", his lips curled into a small smile. "What brings you to the Big Apple?"

Your hands curled around your mug, absorbing all the warmth possible. "I, uh, I was recently published and I have a book presentation in two days so...", you tried to play it as if it were no big deal, keeping your ego to the minimum.

Austin's eyes widened as he leaned forward. "No way, congrats! That's so amazing!", the genuine happiness in his tone, made you shyly look up and the spark in his eyes was truly something else. You had never met anyone so truly happy for somebody else's success.

"Yeah, thank you. Uhm, I've got one copy on me if you're interested, of course.", your voice shook a little at the thought of handing the Austin Butler a piece of you. Another smile took over his face as he enthusiastically nodded.

"Sure, I'd love to read it.", he bit his lower lip, watching you reach in your tote bag to grab your creation. He was sitting across an author, somebody that brought simple words to life. You slid the book in his direction and he smiled yet again, grasping it and analyzing the cover. "I know the saying is don't judge a book by its cover, but this is gorgeous."

You laughed, nodding a little. "Thank you, I designed it myself.", he looked up, his lips parted.

"Just— Wow... I need an autograph, like right now—", he stuffed his hand in his own tote bag and pulled out a sharpie, handing it over to you. "I mean— if that's okay with you, that is."

With a chuckle, you grabbed his sharpie and opened the book, automatically finding the title page. You signed your name and wrote some words dedicated to him.

To Austin, may our paths cross again. With love, Y/N

Your words to Austin manifested into your reality, for your paths crossed more than once after your coffee set-up date. You were in Boston for another book presentation when Austin called you, asking how to reach you.

"It's just— I finished your book and I'm absolutely in love with it and— I really need to see you."

You pressed your phone against your chest, right above your heartbeat as the words still lingered in your ear. "Wow, thanks Austin—", and then you told him where to find you, your hotel, the hall you were gonna be interviewed in.

Even when your whole focus was on the book — your own creation, your own art — you were still able to spot him in the crowd of people. An easy jacket hugged his figure and a baseball hat hid his hair, his eyes were low, but you knew he was looking at you and you only.

The Q&A part followed and you found yourself answering the questions with profound words and simple smiles. People stood up to get their book signed and your heart soared — someone resonated with your work and here they were. One by one got their title page signed, until one last person was standing in line.

"Hey, I think I know you.", you said playfully and Austin immediately smiled, his hand reaching up to remove his hat.

"You were incredible.", you blushed at his soft words and instinctively stood up to face him. His arms opened as he welcomed you into a hug, like it was no big deal, like that was what you usually did. Your lips curled into a smile against his chest, enjoying his warm embrace.

"I know I already got your autograph—", you chuckled at his words, the vibration right over Austin's heart. "But I think you should change the inscription."

"Oh?", you pulled back slightly to look at him, your hands still wrapped around his waist. "You didn't like the other one?", your words were playful, for you knew exactly what he meant. "I thought it was pretty accurate."

Austin shook his head, a small laugh tumbling from his lips. His hand untangled from your body to grab the brand new copy of your book he had stuffed in his back pocket.

"I still got the original.", he said smiling a little. "But I think I need more.", you raised your eyebrow at his words. "Since your words became reality...", he didn't need to add anything else. You smiled and grabbed the book from his hold, finding your seat again.

You signed your name and wrote words you hoped would turn into reality. The book was shut as you handed it back to him. Austin went to open it, but you put your hands on top of his, stopping him from doing so. His curious eyes found yours in a split second.

"Read it when you get back to your hotel room.", you withheld a breath, anxious of what that could mean. Austin nodded and bit back a grin.

"Alright.", your hand tingled as you moved them away from his, and you secretly wondered if he felt the energy between you two as well. "Wanna grab a bite?", he asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes. You simply nodded and with a shy smile, you walked out of the hall together.

To Austin, may our paths cross and stay intertwined forever. All my love, Y/N

Once Austin read what you had written in the book, he asked you out on a date in the city you were touring in next. He told you all about his next movie and then endlessly talked about your book, showing you what he highlighted and underlined. He pointed at a word he had never heard before and then rambled about a character he particularly liked. His dedication was truly touching.

With other men, you found yourself questioning whether or not you'd be a good fit together or if they even liked you back. You didn't wonder with Austin, because you felt that shift of energy — his heart was beating for yours as much as yours was beating for his. There was no question about that.

A week later, you started dating and suddenly coffees weren't as bitter and the rain wasn't as bad. He made everything better, year after year.

You didn't know when it started happening, if it was your schedules that were all consuming or if you were both in a mood. But the coffee started tasting bitter again and rainy days made you sad. It felt like you weren't riding the same wave anymore.

You weren't in synch anymore. The need to call him for good news was gone, knowing he would talk all about his new role with a hot, new director. Austin worked in between locations, losing track of time and forgetting about the things that mattered the most.

"Hey baby— I can't make it tonight.", he pressed his phone between his shoulder and ear. "Jeff wants us to get another—"

Your sigh fell heavy on his chest. "Yeah, I know... Another take, reshoot, I get it.", you sounded tired.

"You okay?", his ridiculous question made you want to laugh and curl up in front of a sad movie at the same time. Another sigh filled his ear as you exhaled unspoken words.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Was kind of looking forward to our date.", you said, glancing at your watch. "Haven't seen you in a while."

Austin grabbed a towel and started drying his hair — out of focus. "I know baby, but next week I'll be there, I promise. Oh— before I forget. Callum said he was gonna be in town and I invited him to stay at our place. You don't mind, right?"

You shook your head and popped some popcorn in your mouth. "No, not at all. I love Cal."

It was Austin's turn to fall silent for a moment. He couldn't remember the last time you said I love you. "Good, good. He, uh, he's coming by in two days."

"Okay.", he heard from the other end. "Well, have a good evening, honey. I'm gonna go watch a movie."

His lips formed a small smile. "What's the movie of choice?"

"I don't now yet. Probably Grease? Need something to cheer me up."

A heavy breath fell from Austin's lips. Every time he thought the conversation was going well, it suddenly wasn't anymore. "Yeah, that sounds good. I gotta go, love you.", he paused, waiting for your last words, his heart squeezing at the gnawing feeling in his stomach.

"Bye honey."

Your love was consuming. You were both consumed.

Two days later you found yourself in the same café you had met Austin years prior. Though your boyfriend wasn't there, Callum showed up instead. New York winters were no joke and the need for a hot beverage was almost more important than what you had to tell him.

Once you were both sitting and all warmed up, Callum spoke up.

"Isn't this the place where I tricked you both to come?", his mischievous grin was contagious as you laughed and nodded.

"This exact seat too.", you pointed out.

Callum told you all about his new girlfriend and how happy he was, your focus was on his eyes and the way they sparked as he talked about her. You couldn't remember the last time you saw that look on Austin.

Your eyes welled up with salty tears as you released a shaky breath. Your friend stopped talking and reaching his hand to yours. "Hey, you alright?"

The sparkle in his eyes was gone and the cause was you. You interrupted him with your issues and insecurities — were you the reason why Austin's eyes stopped shining?

You simply shook your head, unable to speak, knowing that if you did, you would break. Lips were pressed together to prevent any embarrassment and eyes were fixated on the table.

"Y/N.", he tried again, his hand nudging at a napkin under his fork and knife. You grabbed it and wordlessly patted your under eyes. Your hands then reached for your water and that was when you were grateful for the hidden corner in the café.

"Talk to me.", Callum's tone was encouraging, reminding you of the endless time he told you to let it out, so you would feel better.

You breathed in and then looked in his eyes. "I think... Austin and I...", you shook your head, unable to say the words out loud. Cal's eyes widened in surprise, but he remained quiet.

"It's just... He's been so busy lately and he hasn't been calling as much.", you started slowly, your gaze lowering on your tea. "The problem is that... I've gotten used to that."

Callum nodded, bringing his elbows on the table as he listened intently.

"And I hate that I'm used to his silence, to his lack of effort.", you brought your hands together, toying with the ring Austin had given you. "I don't even know if I love him anymore."

"Jesus.", Callum muttered, his head shaking. "I, uh, I talked to him the other day and he sounded odd. Maybe that's why."

You looked up in question.

"He feels the tension too.", his honesty took you aback. Was Austin feeling as stuck as you were? "But listen, Y/N, that's probably temporary, right?", a small smile was painted over his lips. "You've overcome much worse, right? Remember when you were all the way in Italy and Austin was stuck in LA for that movie?"

You wordlessly nodded. You appreciated Callum's words of encouragement, but you knew that this time it was different. Something had changed, something you weren't even sure about. Something you wondered if it could be fixed at all.

"I just feel so... Blocked up.", you looked down, feeling your heart beat a little faster at your revelation. Callum sighed, thinking your words over.

"That man loves you, Y/N.", his hand inched forward, grasping yours in comfort. "It's all gonna be okay."

You wished you could believe in his words as much as he did.

A week passed, and as promised, Austin made it back home. New York was the place you both came back to. It held so many memories for the both of you as a couple and individually too.

You heard the keys jingle and the door open, your eyes immediately looking up as you watched Austin walk in. You stood up and approached him, falling into his open arms.

"Hey baby.", he murmured against your hair. Your hands desperately fisted his sweater, almost like you were afraid he was gonna disappear at any moment. But the truth was that you missed him. You missed his touch, his smell, his eyes, his voice.

You let out a shaky breath and slowly pulled away, so you were able to look him in the eyes. His hair was disheveled from his hoodie, his eyes were undeniably tired from the flight, but nonetheless, there was still a smile for you on his pretty face.

His hands found your cheeks as he looked at you deeply. It was like an inspection with him checking out every inch of your face, making sure nothing had changed and you were real, in front of him.

"I missed you.", the rawness in his whisper made you shudder as tears filled up in your eyes. You drew your eyes shut and placed your own hands on top of his. "Oh baby.", Austin pulled you in another hug, the fabric of his sweater absorbing your tears. "C'mon let's go lay down."

Austin sensed your emotions simply from your body's reactions. The way you held onto him, the way you started crying, swiftly clinging onto him like a lifeboat. Yet he felt the same way — like you'd been both drifting apart for too long and his presence was so sudden and so needed that it was overwhelming. He needed you as much as you needed him.

Moments later, you were lying on his chest in your bed in silence. It took Austin a little while to help you get your breathing back to normal and then your cries ceased. Your hand found the spot right above his heart and his was securely wrapped around your body.

"I'm finally done with my book.", you broke the silence, your voice a little raw from crying. He hummed, tightening his grip on you as he pressed his lips to your temple.

"'m proud of you.", he kissed your head again. "My little author.", 

You smiled against his chest. "How was filming?"

Austin breathed out and started playing with your hair. "Eh, alright. Demanding, tiring and all that jazz.", you hummed. "You know the phone call we had...", you tensed up, knowing where the conversation was heading. "Hearing you like that and knowing I couldn't just drop everything and come to you..."

That crawling pit in your stomach came back and lying on Austin didn't seem like the best idea anymore. You moved a little and with a hand on his chest, you sat up. His eyes followed your every move as his hands remained on you, lingering.

"I, uh...", you started shakily, hesitantly looking his way. "I doubted us when you were gone.", Austin's hand froze on your body. "I talked to Cal a-and he made me remember that time when I was in Italy and you were in LA, but...", you shook your head. "That was different."

Austin's brows drew together, slowly sitting up as well. "Y/N..."

But you had to speak your thoughts out loud. "You wouldn't call, Austin for days and— and then when you did, everything was just so off. It didn't feel right."

His hand swiftly found your leg. "But I'm here now."

You nodded slowly. "Yes, now."

"Y/N, you get this, though. You know my schedule—"

"Yes, I know you're busy, but I also have got things to do and I don't just disappear in the unknown without telling anybody anything."

Austin was at loss for words. He breathed out, the silence almost overwhelming in your bedroom. Every little object good enough to distract him from thinking about the worst case scenario. But he knew what he had to say. "I'm gonna get better. For you... For us.", he promised.

You looked down, feeling the same sting in your eyes. "I just... I don't know if I can anymore."

His breath hitched in his throat, your words coming to him as a surprise. His hands immediately intertwined with yours as he moved closer to you, his forehead pressed to your temple. You forced your eyes shut as all the emotions you were feeling so suddenly were almost unbearable.

"It's a little hiccup, baby, that's all. We can do this together. I know we can.", Austin couldn't disguise the pain in his voice and your heart cracked just a little bit more. You squeezed his hands and sniffled. "We can do this. We're a team.", despite the obvious emotion, Austin's words made you want to believe. 

"Y-You think?", he nodded, pulling away to place yet another kiss on your temple.

"I know.", he confirmed. "And I-I am so sorry for putting everything else first, baby.", his words were rushed, but you knew he meant every single one. "None of this is worth it without you by my side."

A frown appeared on your lips as you pulled away, your hands cradling his rosy cheeks. You kissed his lips, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. A man that was able to recognize his own mistake was hard to find, yet there he was sitting on the bed with you.

You pulled away, leaving Austin breathless. "Thank you for seeing that.", you murmured. "And I'm sorry for immediately blaming you for all of this—"

Austin shook his head, grasping your hands from his cheeks and kissing them repeatedly. "No, you had every right to. I needed a wake-up call. And I'm glad it's from you.", his blue eyes bored in yours, every shade of honesty glistening in them.

"I wanna do this with you.", you nodded, reassurance now flooding in your veins. A relieved smile broke on his face as his lips inched closer to yours until he finally sealed your words of promise.

"I love you. So goddamn much.", Austin muttered against your lips, a breathy laugh fell from your lips.

"I love you too.", there were the words he had wanted you to say for so long.

And you meant them with every fibre of your being.

A/N: took me three days to write this chapter but I absolutely loved it! let me know what you thought 💋🤍

MASTERLIST austin masterlist

next chapter... our pilot buck cleven 🩵

[qualityavenuejellyfish]

I was fourteen years old in my first year of high school when Star Wars became an overnight sensation. I don’t remember how many times we went to local movie theaters to watch it. I do remember a few of us were driven to Hollywood to see it first. It was all we talked about for months.

Just three days ago, a 21 yr. old man that I work with had recently seen the film for the first time. He asked me so many questions about it expecting me to remember everything about the film. I was in my twenties the last time I saw the movie. I find it fascinating that he’s still quoting lines from the movie. Some things never change.😊

Mark Hamill on the set of Star Wars 1977

[districtunrest]

ONGOMGOMGOMG. (share thoughts. any n all. you know i need to know. PLEASE!)

HAHA sorry. anyway:

I didn’t really like it and I’m sad about it. ☹️ even though there were some interesting ideas and cool new characters, I was taken out of the story too much to fully enjoy them. it read to me like the laziest (most rushed? least edited?) yet most forced storytelling of the series, which sucks bc it’s supposedly the REAL backstory of my favorite character. but I just couldn’t shake my doubt while reading that this was what we and Katniss were missing all along. too many details (that I memorized by heart as a tween and have made everyone’s problem since) didn't match up, even with the card-stacking*. so I just don't believe this was always the intended ‘real’ story when it’s so hidden from the trilogy... imo, SC went back to it with a mission statement in mind after recent current events (and, more tellingly, after Ballad) and did her thing. which is fine, that's her right - it's just, when this whole book seems more like a writing workshop thought experiment than the intended backstory, I will treat it as such. bc as it stands, all the callbacks & connections & Everlark parallels in the world cannot replace Katniss & Peeta watching the highlight tape of his Games, Haymitch telling them what he did was “almost but not quite” as bad as them with the berries, Katniss finally understanding who he is in that moment, and Haymitch later admitting the loss of his loved ones were because of "that stunt [he] pulled with the forcefield" (which is. simply not true anymore with all of his stunts in and out of the arena). like say no more, that’s good enough for me! it’s what I prefer and what I find more compelling than what’s revealed/subverted in Sunrise. and tbh that discrepancy makes Sunrise unfaithful, at least in my eyes, for all it relies on references to the rest of the series. 

now, obviously I had mixed feelings about this prequel in the first place, and my concerns/reservations mounted with each excerpt, only to be confirmed now... but I did try, okay!?? haha I’d told you and several others privately that I really wanted to like this book and I was willing to set aside my gripes if it was good - but it had to actually be good! instead, the book was exactly what I was afraid it was going to be *and* suffered a drop in quality. I found the narration underwhelming, dumbed down and repetitive, and not evocative of Haymitch's voice. even things I thought there was NO WAY would actually happen and I was just being paranoid - but then they did, lmao. like, it was a letdown for me personally *and* it didn’t even do it well enough where I could at least respect it and oblige, lol

overall, it was just too off for me. by answering and explaining so much, it ended up taking away a lot of the trilogy's charm and intrigue - and did so in a way that left a bad taste in my mouth. it made me view Ballad in a more negative light, too, tbh. so I think going forward I’ll just consider it a weird spinoff that is secondary to the main/trilogy canon. 🤷🏻‍♀️

(some more Haybitching under the cut)

tbh, what guts me the most is what SC chose to do with Haymitch’s voice & character, where she watered him down to what he needed to be for this lesson & this plot. it’s frustrating that the dangerous, cunning, arrogant boy that Katniss sees in the highlight reel and can easily recognize in adult Haymitch is all an act. the character we thought we knew is not present here, sacrificed to make yet another point about propaganda, and that’s a crying shame. and his deterioration in the final chapters is so underwhelming (as are the death scenes 🫣) - I've read that same story countless times but told better by people who love the character as is and weren't on a time crunch for a movie deal, I guess.

Sunrise!Haymitch skews shockingly immature and moralistic and hates the idea of being a sarcastic, selfish “rascal." but since when are we calling surviving and fighting to get home in an unthinkable situation selfish? that’s now assumed in Sunrise’s logic, where instead having a ginormous alliance against the Careers with no exit plan (big ‘WHAT IF ALL THE TRIBUTES BANDED TOGETHER AND DIDN’T FIGHT?’ energy) is much smarter and nobler than going it alone and heading in one direction to get to the edge for no reason other than bc nobody had tried it before and trilogy!Haymitch, we know, is an out-of-box thinker & strategist. I know he & Ambert were operating under the notion that they were going to lose no matter what and had their own plans (which. hmm) but it was just so oddly accepted by the Newcomers, too, who had no such threat from Snow. they were so willing to be selfless martyrs and band together when they all know at the end of the day there can only be one survivor - which was heartening in a way, sure, but it almost seemed trite? and again, needlessly moralistic in an established world like Panem, where these things happen every year...? not even self-righteous (Katniss' words but with Haymitch's backing!) Peeta 'not a piece in their games' Mellark thought so narrowly. Idk. I might have to mull that one over more. but anyway, then Haymitch trying to rescue Maysilee is turned into a mini redemption arc in post, when all it was in the first place was a glimpse into his protective & caring nature underneath all the bravado, which was surely part of Katniss’ deepening understanding of him. but Sunrise wasn’t interested in exploring that, either, or even honoring it. okay

and I can’t get over how SC had to kind of retcon the final pages of Mockingjay to fit Haymitch’s epilogue into it, which didn’t help how it already rang so hollow for me, I hate to say. it’s not even done well, containing the most rushed, wrap-up-everything-before-the-deadline writing I’ve ever seen from SC (and it STILL doesn’t read like Haymitch’s voice to me :/). some things can just be; they don’t need some big, loaded, tragic explanation. Haymitch can glibly call Katniss ‘sweetheart’ once, bc she’s been sullen & hostile to him and he is in fact sarcastic (the horror!), only for it to go on to become an actual term of endearment by the end - like, that’s lovely in and of itself. why weigh it down further? who asked for that? I know I didn’t. 

most insignificantly & pettily of all: geese do mate for life - as in monogamously, meaning they stay together until one of them dies. then, they mourn and find another mate. just putting that out there, lmao

*how tf was Haymitch able to kiss his token and set up a bomb and throw it over the edge and put his token back when we know he was convulsing from shock by the end? to where Silka was able to start staunching her wound as she waited for him to die? if him going into shock was taken from footage anytime after, the arena would've been quaking/on fire around him?? Idk fam. it just feels off.

[morebird]

The Shape

[theoldkyokodied]

Stuilly doodle dump (1/2)

(decided to split up this art dump after all, if you saw the first post i made... no you didn't)

[femboy-central]

grabs your hip to get your attention. as men do to each other

[makesyouevil]

kisses him on the head

[aestheticcrab]

we got lego cherik before gta6

[phantasymistart]

some first attempts at drawing lotr characters

[some-bi-mess]

Jigsaw: You have a mental illness? A mental illness that isn't your fault? Oh! Oh! Trap for you! Trap for you for one thousand years!!!!

[silvadour]