#i love her so much you don't even understand

[tiramissyoucake]

hi, I have a viltrumite mark request! do the gifts that he gives reader vary or to him they’re all the same? like if he’s really trying to impress her and get her on board with producing heirs, is he trying to get her the most valuable gifts he could salvage after his conquest or would he not know the value of the things he’d taken? idk if this makes sense but i love your writings about him :)

Tysm!! And IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE. He regrets destroying earth too thoroughly, there's nothing to salvage to give to you, even if there was there's a chance you'd just become more upset at the memory of what once was.

A shiny gem or two from a desecrated eco-system, pretty robes that survived fires that swallowed whole towns, anything he deemed too beautiful to be destroyed would be taken back, just like how he did with you when he saved you from the sinking ship that was earth

Though this gives me a blurb idea for a Stockholm syndrome type thing *rubbing hands together mischievously*

.

The doors to the bedrooms creaked open, your hands pausing from toying with a gem he brought back from a planet. (One that reflects everything it shows, you saw a glimpse of his smile as he picked it up, a fire, bloodshed, beautiful but daunting.)

"I'm home, love." He announced immediately upon seeing you, setting aside some sort of satchel and walking to you, throwing away the extravagant cape and cupping your cheek to give you a brief kiss, a happy noise vibrating from his lips briefly before he parted. "I have something for you."

'Oh, joy.' You mentally rolled your eyes, glancing up from where you were sitting. "Don't you think I have enough...?" You gestured to a full closet, a vanity littered with jewels you didn't even know existed.

"No, you'll want this, trust me." He took the satchel from where it was tossed, kneeling infront of you and opening it up. "I returned to whatever remained from Earth, and... you'll be happy to know that I missed a few spots."

Mark smiled as he brought out a few rectangular shapes; the familiar scent of paper albeit yellowed, the appearance of worn edges and cracked spines. Books. Actual books. By human authors.

Your expression lit up with.. something, he couldn't discern it as he put the books down in your hands as you shuffled through them, blinking rapidly as if this was a dream.

Familiar titles you've seen in bookshops returned to you, 3 parts from 'Before the Coffee Gets Cold', 'Pride & Prejudice', 'Dracula', collections of short stories, compendiums, you saw more small books between thicker ones.

You thought you'd be angry, yet you felt strangely happy to finally feel something you were familiar with.

"Do you like it?" His smile was so big it almost hurt his cheeks, your expression gave him hope. "Alien books aren't in a scripture you can read, a-and I know there isn't much to do around here when I'm gone..."

"It's perfect." It was so small, it was almost miniscule, you're supposed to be crying, angry to be reminded of your destroyed home. "I.. I'm really happy about this, this may be the best gift you've ever given me."

This was the most Mark has ever gotten from you, the most gratitude that felt genuine. "Books, hah..! Okay! Books, I'll get you more books! Earth books! I'll scour the entire galaxy for any remains of Earthen artifacts!" He monologued excitedly, his heart soaring as you set the books down and looked up at him.

"You look beautiful when overjoyed, I should've done this– mmf!" For once, you initiated contact yourself. Lips pressing against his, Mark melted into a moan as his arms looped around you, leaning up to take more from you.

"Thank you— I don't know how to explain but... thank you—" He shushed you, kissing the corner of your lips, your cheek, your forehead.

"I understand, there's nothing like... home." He begrudgingly called that failing planet your home, as opposed to Viltrum's accommodations. "You know... maybe you could read some of these to our children, in the future."

Your vulnerability was what he was waiting for, a chance to strike to bring up the conversation again. "You're kidding, I don't know if kids can read these..." You were too caught up in the worn cut-up corners of the book to use your usual mind-games, sighing. "... Mark, thank you."

You didn't notice the suspicious smile, the lidded dark gaze that appeared on his face as he stood up while you decided on which book to read. "You're welcome. You're always welcome, love."

[a-hermit-pining]

LaDS as Exes

AN: I don't need sleep, I need answers.

Pairing: LaDS boys x fem reader

Ingredients: 75 % angst, 10% sulking, 15% comedy (by 👃🏻🩲)

My Fav: Zayne and Xavier (seriously why do you guys force me to write so much angst, I love hate it? 🫂)

Xavier:

Somehow friend-zoned. Again. Just like every lifetime.

He’s around a lot. At work, at your apartment, hell, the man’s still your neighbor. And of course, there’s the past lore.

You were engaged once. It just didn’t work out. Right person, wrong time. The kind of joke your shared story arc thrives on.

But Xavier holds onto the hope anyway.

He knows he’s your soulmate. Has always known. And if that means standing by your side as a friend while you love other people, while you build a life without him, so be it.

He’ll wait. He always does.

Because maybe next lifetime… the timing will finally be right.

(hug him rn 🔪🔪)

Rafayel:

You both have a daughter.

But becoming queen, reviving his kingdom, giving him your heart, had been your breaking point.

You loved Rafayel. But loving a sea god was not your forte. It wasn’t the life you wanted, and that hurt Rafayel more than he lets on.

He couldn’t understand why you left something so perfect. A throne beside him, a daughter between you, a kingdom rebuilt through sacrifice, and you still walked away.

He keeps your daughter. Raises her with so much love it’s almost painful. But part of him knows he’s holding onto her in the hopes that you’ll come back.

For her sake. For his.

He’s heartbroken that you refuse to let go of your world, when he once shattered his kingdom to make you his.

He has waited to long but now...now he has an endearing daughter. His anchor.

Zayne:

He was never there. Not really.

You sort of drifted apart during the end credits. Zayne loved his work—too much. He worked to take away other people’s pain. But somehow, he always managed to hide his own. Even from you.

Your marriage withered slowly. The silence grew heavier each time you sat alone, waiting for him to come home. The distance hollowed you out, until you both existed in separate worlds under the same roof.

And when you left, he got worse.

He doesn’t go home anymore. He works until he collapses in a back alley or some dingy cafe. He ends up in the ER more than once. You’re called in, rushed in, drenched in wanderer blood, to sit beside him while the machines beep steadily.

He punishes himself for failing you. For failing at everything.

And sitting next to him, in the chaos of the hospital, you feel the weight of it all. The unfairness of it.

(You might just have to pull a Caleb and abduct him to a secret island)

Sylus:

Divorce? That didn’t happen.

Sylus is still your boyfriend. He’s delusional, but come on, you’re both fooling no one.

The epitome of on-and-off.

"I’m going to kill you," you groan, waking up next to him for the fourth time this year. It’s February.

"Good morning, kitten," he drawls, already pulling you into his arms. He ignores your glare and peppers your face with kisses until you give up struggling.

The baby monitor crackles. Your son’s cry pierces the air.

"Your turn."

Sylus grins. He gets out of bed, sliding into your robe (tearing the shoulder seam. Again). He always stretches it out, just like he always stretches his way back into your life.

This is your life. Messy and chaotic. But it’s yours.

And Sylus? Yeah, he’s not going anywhere.

Caleb:

lmao no.

Hell nah. Caleb would rather commit a felony than accept being your ex.

Either:

He’s in jail. (Domestic terrorism was involved.)

You’re in his basement. (Voluntarily or otherwise.)

He’s in a psych ward, hallucinating a life where you’re still together.

There’s no clean breakup with Caleb. He’s the man who does not share. If you leave him. He’ll find you. If you try to run. He’ll track you down. And if you betray him. God help you.

Because Caleb isn’t letting you go. Ever.

[abigailnussbaum]

I thought this was a really fascinating contrast, and a great button to the already-great Mark vs. Mark scene. Obviously, the two situations aren't entirely comparable - both Dylans are in love with the same woman, and outie Dylan is trying to convince his innie to keep living, as opposed to outie Mark who wants Mark S to end his own existence (and possibly all of his colleagues'). But nevertheless, it feels like a comparison that tells us a lot about who these people are and how they view their innies.

Dylan respects his innie. Even when he's telling him off it's in a way that treats him as an adult who is responsible for his actions. Mark, in contrast, can't help but belittle Mark S. Even before he starts blatantly lying, it's clear that he doesn't respect Mark and Helly's relationship and doesn't see it as comparable to what he and Gemma had.

And, to be clear, I pretty much agree with him! As a viewer, I find Mark and Gemma much more compelling than Mark and Helly. They're an adult couple with a foundation of their own lives and their shared experiences, whereas Mark and Helly are fragments of people who just discovered love five minutes ago. It's impossible for me to see them as equivalent relationships, and that's before you even get to the fact that Mark has met Helena and was not impressed, so he's even less inclined to take his innie's relationship with her seriously.

But obviously that is not a thing you'd say to someone whom you are asking to sacrifice everything, including their own existence. It's something you'd say to a child or a pet, someone whose understanding you don't respect. Someone you think you can manipulate. (And it's telling that Mark complains about Mark S's childishness when really the issue is that he's treating a grown person like a child.) There's real whiplash when you go from this scene to Dylan G being told, like a grownup, that his desires are understandable, that there are things he nevertheless can't have, and that he gets to choose - out of, admittedly, a limited and unsatisfying range of options - how to respond to that. All the more so when you consider that the show has always positioned Mark as the mature one, and Dylan as the hothead. (And that's before you even get to their respective class and education coding.)

What I think it comes down to is that Mark, while a generally decent person, doesn't tend to think much about other people. He cares about his immediate family, but he tends to bristle and lash out when he's asked to extend solidarity to strangers (see his reaction to the anti-severance protesters in season 1) or when his feelings aren't centered (deriding Devon when she suggests that Gemma's death hurt her too). The key difference between him and Mark S is that the innie was placed in a position of leadership where he found himself responsible for the wellbeing of others, and has risen to the occasion. So when Mark treats him like a child whose feelings and personal connections are inherently smaller than his own, that's not just insulting. It's factually incorrect. Dylan is able to understand the ways in which his innie has outstripped him, but Mark is incapable of grasping the same truth.

Dylan and Mark having some very different innie/outie interactions today

[bluetooththereptile]

The other family

(Yandere batfamily x reader) (Coraline coded au)

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

This fic was inspired by this post.

Note: I've loosely based this on Wika by Olivier ledriot and tales of Bogymen taking abused and neglected children away to punish the parents.

Tw: yandere tendencies, child neglect, horror?

The sound of the crickets outside your open window was mixed with the distant noises of the fan in your room working to help with the heat that had haunted Wayne Manor for a week now, the heat wave that had hit Gotham a few days ago was unbearable, even during the nights. You tossed around in your bed, refusing to let go of the green dragon plushie that had been your loyal companion for your days at daycare. You looked into its faded eyes because of rough use and a pout came to your lips, maybe you should take Hamlet with you, yeah, the other mom would allow it right?

You had spent your days enjoying your slushies, and milkshakes, playing video games, and rolling on the cool sheets of your bed, but whatever you did you found yourself slowly losing your patience, they had said you could go back to them every weekend so where was the other cat? You poked your head out of your bedroom now and then to catch a glimpse of its white fluffy fur but it was nowhere to be seen in the dark hallway that seemed to stretch on.

Trying to pass the time you snuck out of your room to take another ice cream from the freezer, maybe its taste would calm your nerves, you were supposed to be asleep by nine pm but you knew you had to stay awake until midnight for the other cat to come and find you, it was it's routine by now even if it meant you'd get scolded by Alfred, the only person that cared for your sleep schedule, it was worth it!

You walked past the empty rooms of Others who had gone to patrol that night, your feet made little noise as you walked past the rooms one by one, turning past the corners to get to the main staircase of the Manor, you glanced at the few doors you could recognize in the dim light, holding hamlet closer to your chest as you walked past Dick's guest room, he always said he'd be there for you, but you couldn't remember the last time he had sat down to talk to you like he did with others, maybe it was because he was too old for you? But he always told others that he didn't care about that. You couldn't comprehend why you were invisible to your oldest sibling.

You walked past Tim's room as well before poking your head to the corner that lead to the room Mom and Dad shared, you padded closer, peaking in with curiosity through the ajar door to see your mom sitting behind her vanity desk, lazily filing her nails as she talked to her phone. Her back facing the door. She had put on her usual hair curling rolls, the sound of her soft chuckles in the air as she spoke with her friend. Mom never laughed like that when she was with you or Dad, unless she was shopping, maybe she liked buying gifts for herself so that was why she was happy shopping? You loved gifts too!

"Yeah I don't know, Bruce is getting rather boring, to be honest" Selina sighed as she leaned back in her seat, putting her slender legs up on the low-level vanity, "yeah, good thing I've dragged on the engagement, imagine I bite the trap" She snorted as she filed her forefinger, "Y/N?" You tensed at hearing your name "I'm not sure about the kid, I mean I never wanted a child to begin with but now that I'm strapped to a grown-up toddler what else can I do but stay? I don't know maybe I give up the custody to Bruce or something like that, you know me, I'm not for the domestic life"

Hearing your mom say those things was both confusing and sad, you didn't understand why mom didn't love dad, dad loved her so much! To the point that he always made sure to call her every day! Dad rarely called to the daycare to talk with you, unless he wanted to say happy birthday or something like that since rarely came home at night, Alfred would pick you up or send someone trusted to take you back home, but Dad made sure to take Mom everywhere himself! Plus if mom didn't like you why did she give birth to you? Were you unwanted?

You clutched Hamlet to your chest and buried your face into its fur as you walked passed the door towards the kitchen. Maybe you would take a bag of snacks with the ice cream, yeah eating always soothed you. Getting down the stairs you walked inside the kitchen, sneaking in to open the door of the double freezer only to be stopped by Alfred who gave you a knowing look, making you freeze as you sheepishly looked up.

"I just wanted a chocolate ice cream, it's too hot in my room," you said trying to give your best puppy eyes look, the older man put his hands on his hips giving you a scolding look in return "Too much dairy makes your stomach hurt, remember?" He spoke, his voice firm but not harsh, you pouted as you held the handle of the freezer's door "Please just tonight? I've been good today" you pleaded, Alfred sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he gave in and handed you a small tub of ice cream with a spoon. "Just be careful to not spill it alright?" He spoke softly, his eyes saddening a little as he watched your small smile, you rarely smiled these days.

You walked out of the kitchen, holding the cold tub in your hand before you froze at the sight of the white feline at the end of the hall, looking at you expectantly, the tub and the spoon fell from your hand as if you were under a spell and you enthusiastically followed the cat, eyes wide with excitement "Alfred!" You called in a hushed tone to the other cat who was sitting patiently for you, its crimson eyes blinking softly as its long tail swished about, Damian's cat Alfred never liked you for some reason, but this one loved being around you purring as it came to your vicinity.

"Hello, kitty kitty!" You bent down to pet the fluffy creature who arched its back to your touch, lovingly rubbing against your legs, gently kneading your slippers. The soft "mrrp" sound of the cat made you smile more, searching under its chin. "Good kitty!" You cooed, before giggling softly as the cat licked your fingers gently, rubbing its head to your fingers to make you pet it a little more, purring a storm.

After the cat had its fair share of your attention it turned around and padded away before turning back to look at you as if to say "What are you waiting for? Follow me!" You followed the feline creature with a big smile on your lips, walking through hallway after hallway, not noticing the walls and temperature shifting as the other cat guided you to another world. It was your weekly routine now.

It soon turned too cold as you walked deeper into the hallways and you started to shiver, holding Hamlet even closer as you finally walked through a single door at the end of the hallway you were at, entering the entrance hall of the Wayne Manor again, where you had started your journey with the other cat, but the coldness of the air and the eerie lights of the lamps and candles gave you the signs that you were at the Other Side.

You looked around squealing with joy at the sight of the other Alfred who held a large blanket for you, standing by a large chair close to the light fireplace greeted you with a warm smile, chuckling as you ran to him, opening his arms before snugging you in the warm blanket in his hands. He gently wrapped you up fully, putting you on the chair to warm you up. He hummed a soft song under his breath, making you giggle as he wiped your face with a warm towel he had nearby. The other Alfred rarely spoke for some reason.

"My baby!" The other mom called for you loudly, making your head snap up and you nearly fell from your seat from excitement at the sight of her in a comfortable set of clothes, so much different than what your mom used to wear, making you feel uncomfortable even if she was at home with you. "Mo-!" Before you could say anything you were in other mom's arms, showered with her kisses. "Oh, my baby! How I've missed you!" She kept kissing your now rosy cheeks, giggling with you as she held you close. She smelt of lilacs, and she was even more beautiful than your own mom, her silvery eyes were warm, just like her smile. She didn't wear too much makeup that would cake on your skin like whenever your own mom kissed you. Her skin was soft and her unpainted lips were always smiling, making your little heart flutter.

You let out a soft squeak when you felt more pressure around you, sneaking a peak from the other mom's embrace to see the other dad holding both you and the other mom, smiling warmly. "How have you been my sweetling?" The other dad's voice was deeper and he had the same silver eyes as the others on the other side. You felt your cheeks hurt from how much you were smiling. A loud laugh left you as the other dad tickled you through the blanket, the couple chuckling at the sight of your joy. The other dad was always home when you were visiting the other side, even if others were on patrol he was there, he still loved the other mother just like your dad did, but the other also loved...you.

The other dad held you two for a long time, as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn't run away just like the first time you did when you had gotten into the other side. Which had become a side joke with your other family. "You need a good bath and new clothes before dinner" The other mom hummed as she sniffed your hair, her comment finally breaking the hold of the hug around you.

The other dad picked you up without a struggle, making you giggle "Daddy!" You called, making a soft shuddering breath leave his lips at the way you called him that, you had started opening up to the couple and it filled them with joy, you had heard the other Alfred and the other Dick discuss this before, apparently, the other mom and dad were depressed for a long, long time. You couldn't see how the other mom put her hand over her mouth as she nearly teared up at the way you called the other Bruce that. "Again" the other dad whispered "hm?" You tilted your head to the side, holding Hamlet with your hand as the other held onto the other dad's shoulder "Call me again" the other dad insisted, and you smiled as you called him again "Daddy!", he closed his eyes as he buried his face into your hair for a whole minute, his board shoulders tense as he tried to hold back his tears, his baby was alive again, alive!

The other dad took you to your other room filled with everything you liked after he had come to his senses, the other mom had made sure to decorate your room to your tastes and had even changed the wallpaper three times for you. The fireplace there was on, and the bathroom was already filled with steam coming off of the glistening marble bathtub there, when you got close to the bathroom you curiously looked at the bubbles in the air, gasping. You had never seen a bathbomb make bubbles! "Bubbles!" You squealed in joy as you popped one, making the other dad's smile widen. He kissed your forehead before he put you down gently, the other mom undressed you carefully, and then she shooed her husband away when she started to take off your underwear "It's a private moment with me and my baby!" She had said,  making the other dad groan. You jumped on your feet as the cold air hit you, making the other mom coo as she picked you up by your sides "It's okay! It's okay!" She then lowered you into the warm water, watching with satisfaction as your body eased down.

The other dad left the bathroom as the other mom washed you, soothingly wiping the dried sweat off you with a soft loofah. You had never been washed like this before, sure Alfred washed you nearly daily or you'd manage to shilishali your way in a shower, but it wasn't as enjoyable as this one. The other mom would coo and softly praise you for heeding her gentle orders to put your arms up, holding her hand over your eyes as she poured water on your hair, making goofy hairstyles with you as you watched yourself in the mirror at the other side of the bathroom. Your giggles filling the air, ignorant of the snow falling outside.

After washing you up the other mom carefully rinsed you, drying you up before she gently put soothing lotion on the soles of your feet and your knees that you had scrapped after a rough play at daycare. You loved seeing the other mom dote on you and pamper you like no other. She even made sure to dry your ear canals, making you scrunch up your nose as she hit a spot while drying up your left ear "It was itchy wasn't it?" She asked, chuckling as you nodded. The other mom laughed a lot with you, and you never grew tired of it. Her voice was like an angel's always making you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside.

The other mom dried your hair with a blow dryer, brushing it carefully before putting on a pair of very cozy and warm pajamas for you. "But Mommy I shouldn't wear pajamas to dinner!" You said, confused "Mommy makes the rules and you can wear whatever you want to dinner" She booped your nose after that, She then gave Hamlet back to you before putting on your fuzzy socks. You wiggled your toes to watch the googly eyes of the bears on your socks move, oh how much you had begged your mom to buy you those cute socks but she hadn't, calling them too silly.

The other mom held you as she walked to the dining room and by the moment she opened the door others burst into energy and mirth at the sight of you, Everyone was there, even the other Damian was smiling! Speaking of your other brother he was quick to rush towards you and hug you tightly after the other mom put you down, Damian never hugged you like this, even if he said he was your older brother, him saying that always rang hollow, but with the other Damian? Oh, it was something else!

Damian held your hand as he guided you to your seat and helped you sit on it, petting your head and Hamlet's. The other mom sat at your left side and the other Damian sat at the right, and as others spoke with each other the other mom put a napkin on your lap and neatly snug one on your collar and chest before she put a spoon full of your favorite stew in your mouth, and you ate with enthusiasm. Chewing the savory roast with both your cheeks full.

The other dad smiled leaning on his elbow as he watched you eat, putting his hand on the other mom's shoulder as she put spoonful after spoonful into your mouth, his eyes soft and full of love for you. You still remembered the first time you had met him, his face was of shock and confusion "Angel?" He had called you but you had meekly mumbled out your name, making him gasp and speak of something along the lines of "Our prayers were answered, glory to Balor!" Who was Balor? No one answered you that.

The other mom was so kind, dabbing napkins on your mouth if a bit of food smeared the corners of it, watching you chew and swallow before putting another spoon of the hearty stew, giving you the juiciest cuts of meat that melted into your mouth. You scrunched up your nose again at her as you tasted a tangy bit, making her giggle "It's alright sweetie, just try to swallow it" and you did with slight difficulty. "Good job!" She clapped her hands together, the ring on her finger shining. The other mom had married the other dad, unlike your mom who seemed to hate that.

You noticed the small dark tint to her nails, her nails had started to darken more and more since the first time you had met, maybe she liked black nail polish? Your mom put on some now and then, but your mind couldn't see how she had grown taller at each visit, oh how her actions had turned more and more clingy, you weren't privy to her tearful night with her mate, when she'd hiss and growl as she shredded the body of another child by the alter of Balor, begging him to give her a chance of a sacrificial ceremony, to which the being had agreed to. Her lost child was coming back home once more.

Your gaze looked around as the other mom put a piece of bread for you to munch on in your hands as Hamlet sat on your lap. You noticed Dick, smiling at him as your memories with him flooded your mind. Even if the other Dick was busy speaking with the other Jason but he still waved to you every time you looked at him, as if he could sense your gaze.

You noticed the other Jason waving your way as well "Nice plushie" he commented, making you hold up Hamlet proudly "Ooh very nice!" The other Jason was so much kinder than the Jason you were used to, he would pick you up and tickle you, blowing raspberries on your belly and smile whenever you talked to him, even if you still could see the pain in his eyes he made sure to dote on you, playing with you and Hamlet.

The other Tim was busy eating his food, but he gave you glances, each time smiling as your eyes met, he had insisted on reading you books when you took naps at the other side since the very first time, though it had turned into more a rivalry with him and the other mom and the other Damian to take turns tucking you in.

The other Damian held your hand as he ate his food in silence, gently squeezing your hand every so often, offering his piece of food as if to mimic the other mom "Damian you know my baby gets stomachaches if you give your baby sibling too much dairy" She gently reminded the other Damian who with a loud "Hmph" took his spoon away from your mouth, making you pout. "It's okay sweetie, I'm just looking out for you" She chuckled as she pinched your nose gently. 

The other Duke and Cass were nowhere to be seen, maybe they were on patrol that night, but you missed Cass's warm hugs and Duke's play times as you and him made pillow forts, having the other dad and Damian force siege onto it.

Everyone was happy, you were happy, and blissfully...ignorant. Maybe it was for the better as the other Alfred once had said to the couple "Let the child be oblivious to everything happening, it helps the transition to proceed smoother, stress and anxiety affect a child's choice."

It all had started with the bridge between the parallel worlds becoming thin when you had passed into a door during a restless night, entering a darker version of the world you lived in that was shrouded in perpetual night and winter, where the dark fae resided. You didn't know every human alive had a fae double living their own life on the other side, that was why you didn't know your own double had been long dead at the hands of the other joker, and how much your other family were overjoyed to find you there. And the other Selina, became obsessed with the idea of taking her child back by any means possible.

"It is against the rules" the other Bruce had said as his wife suggested the idea of taking you into the fold of the kin residing on the other side, but she had reminded him "They don't want the poor thing! We can give the sweet angel the love a child like the little one deserves! Look how eagerly the child clings to you! The child needs us, my love, the child needs me!" And that was when the family decided on setting a plan to turn your weekly visits, into a permanent stay.

"Sweetie" the other mom called for you" Everyone quieted down as they realized the moment of truth was going to happen "Do you want to stay with us?" The other mom asked softly as she rubbed your back "I'd love to stay the night Mommy!" You answered, making Alfred smile at your blissful innocence "No sweet baby, I mean do you like to stay with us forever?" The other father chimed in and you frowned as you tried to think. The other mom bit her lip nervously, maybe it was too early for her to suggest it? The couple watched anxiously as you tried to think about your decision "If I agree, I will be with mommy and daddy forever?" "Forever sweetie, and we won't leave you, ever" the other mom cooed, holding your hand as Hamlet fell onto the ground. "We will have lots of fun, mommy will be your best friend, and Daddy and others will play with you nonstop!" You smiled at the thought of it, melting the dark hearts of the fae sitting around the table. "Yes, mommy!" You agreed, and upon that, the mood shifted.

At hearing that the lights turned a greenish hue, as if on cue, and everyone seemed to grow taller and taller as your own body turned heavy, the illusion magic was wearing off and yet the couple was surprised to see you weren't panicking. "I'm sleepy Mommy" you mumbled with a soft yawn, and the female fae cooed softly at hearing that "It's alright sweetling, mommy will make sure to tuck you in" She reached out and picked up Hamlet from the ground, the plushie morphing into a grotesque figure of a dragon in her clawed hands before she tucked the toy in your arms. Your eyelids grew heavier as you sunk into the large seat behind the table, not noticing how everyone stood up from their seats, bowing to the haunting shadow appearing in the room.

A hissing voice spoke in a language you didn't know, and the female fae picked you up, holding you by the back of your knees and shoulders, passing you into the massive bony arms of the God of the dark elves, Balor, who wrapped you in its tangible shadowy form "Do not worry for the babe, rest this night my children, for tomorrow we will rejoice for a fae, reborn."

Your eyes closed as you slipped into a peaceful slumber. Before you found yourself in a bed of flowers, lying beside an angelic man in a lush garden. "Shush my child, sleep" the man soothed you "Birth will be painful" he murmured, gently tapping your chest as he lulled you into rest in your dream before the emergence of another life. "Your parents are waiting for you" he whispered in your ear with a warm voice, and then, your mortal heart stopped in his arms, your soul leaving your body that would soon the body of the many children in the garden of Balor, to land into the carefully preserved one of the sweetling of the other family of yours.

Born anew, in bliss and pain.

It took three days for everyone to notice you were gone, without a trace, nothing was lost but you and your favorite plushie, leaving your parents forever haunted by the memories of the child they took for granted.

Tags: @craulo13 @gaozorous-rex-blog @090909yh @demonprodegy @marise-eternal @jersules @goodsoup19 @candlejuice @worshipcoffee @geniegirlrocks @ghostgangleader @obsessedwithromance @theblacksirenofwinter2004 @ranshin03 @prettyboys247 @kinuraoj @iwannabeapinkaesthetic @legendarylearner18

[softsunnyy]

morning sex, rough sex??, size kink, reader just wants to be destroyed and Luke can help her with that, Luke was sleeping at the beginning 🚨🚨

this was supposed to be soft sex

divider by @cafekitsune

when you woke up, you were hungry, you needed something, but you didn't know what. However, you soon discovered it when you felt your boyfriend's body behind you, sharing his warmth with you, almost covering your entire body since he's huge.

and oh god he's huge, every part of him, and you've always loved that. You love having to make an effort to kiss him, or the ease with which he can handle you in his hands, as if you were just a doll, his little toy. And you love how, even so, he always tries to be gentle, not to touch you too roughly, as if doing so would break you.

looking down, you see one of his hands, large, squeezing your waist as if he didn't want to let go; strong enough to keep you still, but not enough to leave bruises on your skin.

you start looking at his long fingers and remember how they feel inside you, how easily they slide in, and how much they stretch your walls, preparing you for his cock, so you don't get hurt, so you enjoy it. Those same fingers that also grip your hair when you're devouring him, controlling your movements as he pull your hair, trying not to choke you, not to pressure you.

you start to feel heat between your legs, and you try to rub your thighs together, but it's not enough, and your thoughts make you move, rubbing yourself against his body, against his bulge, which jumped with joy, waking up even while Luke is still asleep. And you want to moan at that, but you hold back, biting your lip and considering your options.

your hand reaches back, feeling him through his underwear, and you have the pleasure of feeling him harden beneath your touch, as if he recognizes you. And that makes your thoughts go wilder.

you need him, now.

you slide your hand under his clothes, touching him directly, feeling his hand tighten around your waist, like a warning. Yet you ignore it, beginning to masturbate him slowly, while you tried to roll over onto your back, or just move.

you need to see his reaction, hear his gasps. You need him to wake up and take you.

when you don't see the reaction you expect, you let out a small huff, taking it as a challenge, so you remove your hand and slip out of his grasp, getting up from the bed and quickly finishing undressing.

Luke is going to fuck you, take you and break you. You don't want his gentleness today, you want him to use you, to abuse his strength and size, to make you understand.

you take off the blankets, and at that moment he seems to unconsciously want to help you, as he rolls onto his back, making your plans easier. So you continue, removing his underwear, freeing his cock, which stands proud, his veins showing, his tip a fiery, desperate color.

if he won't do it, you'll have to start it yourself.

without giving it much thought, you climb on top of him, letting your soaked pussy rub against his cock. And you moan as you feel his tip push through your folds, repeatedly bumping against your clit, constantly rubbing against your hole, which throbs desperately.

you watch as he begins to move beneath you, waking up. It takes him a couple of seconds to understand what's going on, but immediately his hands are on you, unconsciously helping you, which you take advantage of.

“fuck,” he whimpered, and this time you can feel the strength in his grip. You can be sure it will leave a mark, which you love. “What are you doing, pretty girl?” he looks at you with attention, desire, and curiosity, his cock beginning to ache from the mere desire to take you. However, what bothers you is the hint of doubt in his eyes, as if all the show you're putting on isn't enough to convince him.

“i want you to take me, Luke, to break me, please, use me,” you whimpered, showing him your desperation. “Please, Lu.”

when you got up a little, he was alarmed. However, it all made sense when you took his cock in one hand, aligning it with your hole.

“wait, baby…” you interrupted him by letting yourself fall, inserting his entire long cock into your walls, which drew a loud moan from you, at the same time that he gasped, suddenly feeling himself hugged tightly by your walls that adjusted to his size with some difficulty.

it was at that moment that a switch clicked in his head, and all rational decision-making was abandoned. The urge to possess you swept over him, and he decided to stop ignoring his desires, flipping your bodies over, leaving you beneath him this time. Your legs were lifted by his hands, resting on his shoulders, and soon he began to thrust into you, moving hard, making your body bounce, your tits bounce.

you could feel him everywhere, abusing your hole as if you suddenly didn't matter to him, making you feel a small burning sensation that you're completely loving.

don't get me wrong, you love Luke, you love that he's gentle with you, that he takes care of you, that he tries not to break you, but today? today you need this primal, wild, inconsiderate side. You need to feel him this big, this intense, covering your entire body with his.

you whimper in pleasure when he slaps one your tits, and later you're not surprised when he stretches one of your legs further, giving small bites to your inner thigh. This is what you needed, and you'll do whatever it takes to make sure it doesn't end soon.

and Luke, oh Luke, he doesn't know why he's been holding back so much, when it feels so beautiful to be able to destroy you, to break every part of you until you're crying and babbling. He loves watching his cock disappear inside you so quickly, and he knows it will be even better when he fills you, when he cums so much that there's no way you can keep him inside you and you start staining your thighs with his cum.

he's going to use all his free time to mark you and manipulate your body at his whim, extracting as many orgasms from you as possible, because even though you're the one who woke up hungry, now he's starting to feel it too.

you've ignited something that can't be extinguished, and you'll have to get used to this side of Luke, who will take advantage of being big and rough, who will claim your body until all you can think about is him while you pull his curls and scratch his back.

you don't have to worry or wait, or want too much anymore. Luke will give you what you need, he will be good, and he will make you his personal toy, just like you wanted.

are you ready?

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 23

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

We are wrapping up loose plot threads so: Hungary 2024, WHICH I FIXED (kinda). My questionable understanding of racing strategy? Crocheting.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Lando had seen Lizzie nervous before—before a book signing, even before their first public appearance together—but this was an entirely new level. She was sitting in the passenger seat, gripping the hem of her sweater so tightly that he was surprised the fabric hadn’t ripped yet.

“Lizzie,” he said gently.

She exhaled sharply. “Lando, I don’t think you understand. Your sisters have read my books.”

“Yeah, they love them.”

“That’s the problem!” She turned to him, eyes wide with panic. “What if your mum has read them? What if she’s read the spicy parts? Lando, I wrote those scenes!”

He tried—he really did—to keep a straight face, but a laugh escaped before he could stop it. “Liz, I hate to break it to you, but my mum is a grown woman who had four kids. She’s not going to combust if she reads a bit of smut.”

Lizzie looked at him like he’d just blasphemed. “That’s your mum! God, Lando, you’re missing the point.”

“Oh, I have a point,” he said, still trying not to laugh. “And that point is, you’re making this way too big a deal.”

She scowled at him, whacking him with the back of her hand. “You’re being extremely unhelpful right now.”

He caught her hand, grinning. “Hey, I’m just providing perspective. But if you want to keep being nervous on your own, be my guest.”

Lizzie huffed but didn’t pull away from his grip. “Why do I feel like you’re enjoying my freaking out?”

He squeezed her hand, still amused. “Because it’s entertaining to watch.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but the effect was diminished by the way she was worrying her bottom lip. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

Lando bit back a smirk, bringing her hand to his mouth and pressing a small kiss to her knuckles. “Maybe I am.”

“Your dad is a millionaire, Lando,” she muttered as they pulled into the driveway. “What if he thinks I’m using you for your money?”

Lando couldn’t help himself. He laughed. “What?”

Lizzie huffed, glaring at him. “Don’t laugh at me! It’s a valid concern!”

He tried—and failed—to regain his composure. “You’re worried my dad is going to think you’re a gold digger?”

Lizzie nodded, looking at him with wide, earnest eyes. Lando bit back another laugh, shaking his head. “Liz, love, you really worry too much.”

“I’m serious, Lando!” she protested. “People talk, okay? And with your family’s background, I can’t blame them. How am I supposed to convince them that I’m not just some fangirl with a talent for writing dirty scenes?” Her eyes widened. “Oh my god, I am,“ she whispered.

“Come on,” he coaxed, reaching over to squeeze her knee. “They already love you.”

“They don’t know me.”

“They know of you. And they’re excited to meet you properly. Trust me, they’re more likely to make me uncomfortable than you.”

Lizzie lifted her head, narrowing her eyes. “Why?”

Lando smirked. “Because they’re probably going to tell you all the embarrassing things I did as a kid.”

That seemed to help—at least a little. She huffed a small laugh, shaking her head. “If they bring out baby photos, I’m taking pictures.”

“Traitor.”

“Survival.”

He chuckled, shaking his head before unbuckling his seatbelt.

Lizzie did the same, taking a deep breath. When Lando walked over to her side of the car and held out his hand, she took it, gripping it tightly.

“Ready?” he asked.

“No,” she replied, but she climbed out of the car anyway.

Mara jumped out of the backseat with a wagging tail, immediately tucking herself against Lizzie's side.

Lizzie laughed, giving the dog a quick scratch on the head. Lando watched her intently, noticing how tense she still was.

He moved forward, placing a hand on the small of her back. “Breathe,” he told her softly.

She let out a shaky exhale, leaning into his touch. "I'm trying," she muttered, sounding a little less nervous.

They began the short walk toward the door, Mara trotting happily ahead of them. Lando could feel Lizzie trembling a little under his touch.

“Remember," he murmured against her ear, "they’re going to be just as nervous as you, if not more."

Lizzie shot him a disbelieving look but didn’t have time to say anything as the door swung open.

The front door opened before they even reached it. His mum stood there, beaming, and before Lizzie could get a word out, Cisca pulled her into a warm hug.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s so good to finally meet you.”

Lizzie tensed for a split second, then melted. “You too, Mrs. Norris. Thank you for having me.”

“Cisca,” his mum corrected, stepping back. “And please, we’ve been waiting for ages to meet you. Lando keeps you all to himself.”

Lizzie shot Lando a look, and he just grinned. “Told you.”

His mother stepped back, still smiling. “Well, now that I’ve got you in person, it makes sense why Lando's been so distracted." She cast a sly glance in Lando's direction. He just rolled his eyes.

"Mum," he said, a warning tone to his voice.

His mother just laughed, patting his cheek affectionately. “Oh, don’t you mum me.” She turned back to Lizzie, linking their arms together. “Now, come on. We’ve got lunch ready.”

Lando let them walk ahead, watching how easily his mum settled Lizzie. Even when he was a kid, his mum had always had a way of making people feel comfortable. Now, it seemed Lizzie was on the receiving end of that skill.

They headed inside, the rest of the family waiting in the living room. They all stood when they entered, and though Lando wasn’t surprised to see the eager curiosity on their faces, he still shot them a warning look. His brother in particular looked like he was preparing to say or do anything to embarrass him.

“Finally!” Oliver stood , arms crossed, grinning like an idiot. “The Elizabeth Treshton, in the flesh. Lando has been hoarding you." His brother wasted no time. “Alright,, I have questions,” he announced brightly. “First of all, how did this idiot pull you? Second, how long did it take before you realized he’s an absolute menace? Third—”

Adam Norris appeared in the doorway, shaking his head fondly. “Leave her alone, Oliver.”

Oliver just grinned. “No can do, Dad. She willingly signed up for Lando. I need answers.”

Adam shot Lando a look. “You should’ve known bringing her here would be opening her up to interrogation.”

Lizzie was trying hard not to laugh, but her eyes were sparkling. Lando couldn’t tell if that was from nerves or amusement.

"I have questions!" And there was his youngest sister. He should have known that neither Flo or Cisca were going to be normal.

"Of course you do," Lando muttered.

Flo ignored him and beamed at Lizzie. “I have questions too!"

His mother rolled her eyes at her children, stepping forward. “How about we hold off on the interrogation until after lunch?” She placed a hand on Lizzie’s shoulder, offering the slightest bit of reprieve. “I think poor Lizzie here needs a moment to readjust before we barrage her with questions.”

"But I have book questions!" Flo said quickly.

"And you can ask those during lunch," His mother assured her, steering Lizzie away. "Give the girl a chance to breathe."

"Fine, fine," Oliver said, flopping back onto the couch like a disgruntled teenager.

Adam chuckled. “Maybe try not to scare the poor woman off in the first five minutes?”

"Oh, no worries there," Oliver drawled. "She put up with Lando, right? Everything else will be a breeze."

Lando just rolled his eyes.

Adam laughed, clapping Lando on the back. “Don’t act like that comment wasn’t 100% accurate.”

Lizzie slipped right in the midst of his family, like she always had belonged there. Keeping up with his sisters' rapid-fire Q and A, his very fascinated toddler niece who kept staring at Mara, who sat next to Lizzie, as well-behaved as always...

It was almost surreal to watch the scene unfold. Lizzie was already comfortable with his family, chatting and laughing, easily deflecting questions and answering others. Even his sisters had given up their attempts at embarrassing him, too interested in Lizzie to bother with him now.

He watched all this, trying to keep the smile off his face. It wasn’t until his dad walked over and stood next to him did Lando realize he hadn’t said anything in a while.

Adam clapped Lando on the back, his tone warm. “You picked a good one, son.”

Lando’s chest filled with quiet pride as he watched Lizzie laugh at something Flo had said.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “I really did.”

He should have known that something was going to go wrong.

It started with Mara.

She’d been lying calmly at Lizzie’s feet one second, then suddenly sprang up, ears perked, tail stiff. She nudged Lizzie’s leg with her nose, then her arm. Insistent. Focused.

Lizzie stilled.

Lando was already frowning. “Liz?”

She exhaled slowly, looking down at Mara before turning toward him. “I’m going to have a seizure.”

Just like that. Simple. Direct. As if she were telling him it might rain later.

Lando shot to his feet. “What—what do I—”

A tense silence fell across the room as the others picked up on the situation. Lizzie reached out, fingers skimming Mara’s head as she struggled to keep her breaths even. She was already pale, a thin sheen of sweat gleaming on her forehead.

His mum was the first to recover, her expression calm but her voice sharp. "How do you want to handle this, sweetheart?"

"I need to go lay down," Lizzie said, her voice careful. "I should have a few minutes until it hits."

Everyone else was still reeling, frozen in shock, but Lando’s mind snapped into focus. “Right. Yeah. Come on.”

He crossed the room, gently tugging Lizzie to her feet. She leaned on him, her weight a little heavier than usual.

“Lando,” Adam said, “we can—”

“I’ve got it,” he said, cutting his dad off. He shifted Lizzie’s weight, supporting her as best he could. “Just...give us some space, okay?”

His dad nodded, clearly wanting to say more, but holding back for Lizzie's sake. Lando appreciated the effort.

He half-carried Lizzie out the door, Mara sticking close to them. The dog knew as well as Lando did – something was wrong.

The walk to his old room felt like it took an eternity.

As soon as they reached it, Lizzie was already moving, sinking down to the floor like she’d done this a hundred times before. Maybe she had.

"What do you need?" he asked her, sawllowing.

“Nothing,” she said. “You don’t have to do anything.” She stretched out, lying flat on her side, arms loose, legs bent just slightly. Mara settled near her head, pressed close but not touching.

Lando hated how practiced it was.

His pulse hammered in his throat. He dropped down beside her, panic clawing at his ribs. “Lizzie—”

“If you can’t watch it, I get it,” she murmured, voice calm, even as something flickered in her expression. “But don’t touch me.”

Lando’s hands clenched into fists.

“I— I can watch,” he said, even though his entire body screamed otherwise. “I’m not leaving you.”

Lizzie managed a weak smile, but her eyes were already going glassy. "Okay," she whispered. "But don't blame yourself." And then her breath hitched, and her body began to tremble.

And then she was gone.

Her body tensed, jerking suddenly, violently. Her hands curled, fingers twitching erratically. Lando could hear her breathing shift—harsh, uneven. It was awful.

He dug his nails into his palms, forcing himself to stay still, to stay calm.

It felt like forever.

In reality, it was barely a minute.

Then, as quickly as it began, it ended.

Lizzie sagged against the floor, still, quiet except for her uneven breaths. Mara whined softly, nuzzling against her arm.

Lando moved carefully, shifting onto his knees.

“Liz?” he asked, voice tight. “Can you hear me?”

A long pause. Then, a weak murmur: “Mm. Hate that part.”

Relief hit him so hard he nearly choked on it. He exhaled sharply, pressing a shaking hand over his face. “Yeah,” he said, voice thick. “Me too.”

Lizzie cracked one eye open, exhausted but there. “You okay?”

Lando let out a strangled laugh. “Am I okay?”

Lizzie blinked at him like it was a genuine question.

“Jesus Christ, Lizzie.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “That was awful.”

She hummed, voice drowsy. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Don’t—don’t apologize—”

“I’m fine,” she mumbled.

Lando swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Yeah. Okay. But I still hate it.”

Lizzie sighed, shifting slightly, her limbs sluggish. “Me too.”

He watched as Mara pressed in closer, her body warm against Lizzie’s side. Lando reached out slowly, brushing damp hair away from Lizzie’s forehead.

She leaned into the touch, just barely.

Lando swallowed hard. “You’re okay,” he murmured.

Lizzie didn’t answer—already half-asleep in the aftermath.

But she was breathing.

She was safe.

And he would make sure she always stayed that way.

He wasn't sure how much time went by, but eventually, soft footsteps sounded at the doorway. He glanced up to see his mum standing there, her face pale, expression carefully neutral. She took in the situation for a moment, her eyes lingering on Lizzie before looking to Lando. There was a silent question on her face, and Lando nodded to her. She exhaled softly, nodding to herself, before speaking quietly.

"Is she alright?"

Lando's voice felt like gravel in his throat. "She's fine. She'll probably sleep for awhile."

His mum stepped more into the room, taking in the sight of Lizzie on the floor. A deep frown pinched her brow, like she was trying to hold back her emotions.

Lando looked back at Lizzie, reaching out and brushing his fingers gently over her damp hair. Just the sight of her sleeping peacefully was enough to soothe some of the wild panic from earlier, but his heart still ached.

"Does...has this happened before?" His mum's voice was quiet and careful, as if she were worried about upsetting him.

"I've never seen it," he admitted weakly. "I knew she had epilepsy. I have seen her after a seizure...but I never saw her seize," Lando admitted, swallowing. "How can a mother see this and then decide to leave?"

"Lando..." his mum's voice was gentle, almost like she was bracing him for something.

Lando's heart felt heavy. "I just don't understand how someone could—" he cut himself off when his voice broke, trying again. "I don't understand how someone could just leave their child like that."

His mum crossed the room, sitting beside him and pressing a hand to his shoulder. "I don't think most people will ever be able to understand that, hon. I can't," she admitted freely. "If I imagine that it's Flo or Cisca in her place...nobody would have gotten me away from my daughter," his mother said fiercely.

He swallowed down a lump in his throat, his voice tight. "That's because you wouldn't leave her," he said, voice low. "You'd never go without her. You'd fight to stay every step of the way. And you sure as hell wouldn't give up on her."

There was a beat as he stared at the floor, and he barely registered his mum wrapping an arm around his shoulders. She pulled him into a tight hug, and he couldn't help but bury his face against her shoulder, eyes stinging.

His breath hitched. "I just... I can't imagine just walking away from her."

"Then don't," his mother said simply. "Don't be like her mother. Don't walk away. Talk with her and the next time it will happen, it will still feel horrid. You'll never get used to it. But you'll learn to live with it."

The words hit Lando like a weight to the chest. For a moment, he just sat there, absorbing them. His first instinct was to disagree. He would never, ever be like Lizzie’s mother. He could never abandon her like that.

But then...

His mum was right. He'd never get used to the idea of him just standing by and watching while she suffered. No matter how many times he would see her seize, it would still be torture for him.

But this wasn’t about him. 

This was about Lizzie. Lizzie, who needed to live with an invisible illness that could be controlled to the best of modern medicine's knowledge, but never cured completely.

And Lando would rather live through the torture of seeing her have a seizure a hundred times than to let her go. To leave. To let her deal with it alone. 

***

Lizzie woke up feeling like she’d been wrung out, every muscle sore and heavy, her head pounding with the dull, familiar ache of exhaustion. She blinked at the ceiling, willing herself to move, but even that felt like too much effort.

Then she remembered.

Lando.

The seizure.

How he’d seen it—how he’d stayed.

Her stomach twisted.

Carefully, she turned her head.

Lando was lying on his side, facing her. He was awake. Had he even slept? His hair was an absolute mess, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were sharp, studying her closely.

Lizzie had always known this moment would come.

She’d warned Lando about it early on—matter-of-factly, no dramatics. She had epilepsy. She had seizures.

But knowing about something and seeing it were two very different things.

And she’d lost people to the latter before.

Her mother couldn’t handle it. The fear, the helplessness, the exhaustion of watching and not being able to do anything. It was too much. So she left.

Lizzie didn’t blame her.

But she also knew what it felt like to be too much for someone to love.

Lando held her gaze, the silence stretching painfully between them.

She swallowed hard, bracing for it - the looks of concern, the pity, the thinly veiled excuses.

Then Lando spoke, his voice rough and quiet.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I lost a fight with a freight train.”

Lando’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I figured.”

The silence between them was heavy.

Lizzie forced herself to push up onto her elbows, ignoring the way her body protested. “Lando—”

He cut her off with a shake of his head, his eyes never leaving her. “Stop talking.”

She went silent, staring at him. His gaze was like a steady weight, pinning her in place.

He inhaled slowly, as if steeling himself.

“I’m not going anywhere, Liz.”

Her breath caught. She'd been bracing herself for rejection, for distance. For fear and confusion and pity.

But Lando was just...looking at her. Just like that. Not like she was broken. Not like she was different now. He was just looking at her.

“You’re not?” Her voice was a whisper, vulnerable and terrified in spite of herself.

He shook his head. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Something stirred in her chest. Hope, maybe.

Or maybe it was something else.

She swallowed, trying to get control of her emotions. “Most people don’t stick around after they see it.”

Something flickered across his face—something sharp, something angry. “Well, they’re idiots.”

Lizzie huffed a small, tired laugh. “Maybe.”

Lando shifted closer, hesitating before reaching out. His fingers brushed lightly over her wrist, careful, almost hesitant.

“Did it scare you?” she asked softly.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his fingers curled around her hand, grounding both of them. “I hated seeing you like that,” he admitted, voice low. “Knowing and seeing aren’t the same thing.”

She sighed, exhaustion pressing against her bones. “No. They’re not.”

Lando shifted again, his thumb sweeping over the back of her hand. “Your mum couldn’t handle it.”

It wasn’t a question.

Lizzie swallowed. “No.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then—“I’m not her.”

Lizzie’s chest ached, and not from the seizure.

“I know.”

Lando’s fingers squeezed hers. “Do you?”

She let out a slow breath. “Yeah. I do.”

“Good.” His voice softened, but the weight of his words remained. “Because I need you to believe that I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyes stung with held-back tears. She clenched her jaw, willing herself not to cry. “You can’t possibly know that.”

Lando’s expression remained steady, but she could see the determination in his eyes. "I do know that,” he said softly. “I know me, Liz. How I feel. What I can handle. And I can tell you with complete certainty that I’m not leaving. You can’t get rid of me now even if you tried.”

She tried to keep her voice steady, but her breath hitched on a stifled sob. “What if it changes though? What if one day you can’t—”

“Liz.” He cut her off, his tone firm but not unkind. “Stop it. Stop worrying about what-ifs. This is my choice. I’m staying. End of story.”

“But—”

He cut her off again, his grip on her hand tightening, as if he could force her to believe him through touch alone. “No buts. This is a non-negotiable for me.” He took another deep breath, his voice growing even quieter. “I’m not your mother, Liz. You are not too much. And I’m not scared. Got it?”

Something crumbled inside her, some long-held piece of fear disintegrating in the face of his steady, certain gaze.

Her throat felt tight, and she could feel the tears threatening to spill over.

“Got it?” He repeated, his thumb rubbing softly over her knuckles.

There was something pleading in his voice—a silent plea for her to understand, to believe him.

And she realized in that moment, as he held her hand and looked at her with so much certainty...she did.

She believed him.

[queerdeans]

i love how jack came into the world and it was like a) your mom is dead and died in childbirth and she loved you and believed in your power to be good and b) your dad is actual lucifer like from the bible.

and now there are two (2) adults in your life, neither of whom are your biological parents, but that's okay because this is the family-don't-end-in-blood show. but one of the adults is trying to work through his own self-worth issues when it comes to being Tainted By Lucifer™ and the other one was widowed in the exact hour of your birth. neither of those things really has to do with you but they're both being projected onto you and you're also like, a day old.

and the only person who was also on your side when you were in utero is dead and happens to be the lover of the widower who now hates you because of what you represent, which is a Whole Other Thing and you don't even really get why he hates you to be honest because again, you're new here and you're just finding out about good and evil as concepts at all.

so you're now stuck very much in the middle of a complicated and fucked-up family dynamic that is not yours because you just got here and caretakers one and two are arguing about such subjects as 'should you be killed at the first opportunity' and it seems like they're both kind of bringing their own baggage into the situation. the mother-brother is like 'i'm tired of being the caretaker for everyone' and the son-brother is like 'that's too damn bad' because if mother-brother stops being the caretaker then what the hell will come of it all? and there's just a whoooole lot of history you don't even understand.

then fortunately the dead lover guy comes back and you maybe made that happen, so mother-brother guy doesn't want to kill you anymore, and you also now have someone in your life who actually wanted to care for you the whole time. yay! but you're also not sure if you want to be taken care of, or how someone would go about it. and he doesn't seem to be sure either. everyone here was classmates at the school of absent fathers, by the way.

and then enters the mother-mother. not your dead mother, but she's someone's dead mother. she haunts everything and the idea of her doesn't match up to the shape of her and you're starting to kind of get the fucked-up family dynamic you've been dropped into. but here's a mom! and how nice is that? you wanted a mom and here one is. only she's not really your mom and she doesn't really want to be a mom but she does love you and she turns out to have a more motherly relationship with you than she does with either of her real sons. and that's nice, but there's also maybe resentment from those sons, or maybe just one of them, because the other one had a mother, and it happened to be his brother.

and all of this happens within the first like six months of your life and we don't even have time to address when you actually meet your father satan ✌️

[sxorpiomooon]

What does your family think of you?

Paid readings

Masterlist

Pile 1-

More thinking less actually talking about it. You might talk to yourself alot or blabber alot? Alot of words that you say or are deep thinking about never actually see the light of the day and that's what they think. I see especially a women figure mother probably very worried and curious about this. They think of you as someone who knows very well how to hype others well someone who brings the light in people and you know the mood settler. Someone who brings excitement and they are always upbeat when you are near. However I think your family might be a little worried about you mainly because they believe that you hide alot from them especially your struggles it's like you refuse to talk about them or even acknowledge that they are there. There is also this theme about trying to ignore the past or let go off the past but not being able to. I keep having a vision of a person with their hands on their face there is a shame that this person feels as they wish to hide themselves/ their face so that other people don't look at it. Your mother or a women around you is the one that is the most worried and concerned she loves you alot and is waiting for the moment that you come up to them to talk. They believe that you bring light whenever you go and it's like you are the light. Your family also believes that you tend to hide your struggles this might be someone who might have had to protect their family from a very young age, someone with alot of burden on their shoulders and a belief that no one else can or should be handling it except them.

Pile 2-

The thought daughter. "You got your passion, you got your pride but don't you know that only fools are satisfied" from Vienna started playing in my head. Very warm and kind you might love winters or more so being able to hide yourself in big clothes, mufflers and fire near. You might daydream alot and might drink coffee or some other drink alot. "You know how to love better than most of us that's why you find it all so painful" from fleabag played in my head I heard "begging to be understood". You might feel as if no one understands you or your struggles but they do that's what you need to know. You might repress your anger alot in order to be kind or nice. I think your dad loves you the most he understands you it's in the way that he stares at you. Read books, philosophy, write in your journal and observe art you have a very long way to you. You have to understand and realise that people do see you for who you are especially your family. Someone very warm, kind and wise very good intuition and very connected to her inner voice.

Pile 3-

do you perhaps say the same thing alot of times because you are nervous or simply because you are not able to remember what you were gonna say next? Your family is patient with you. You have a good home I think if not good, you do have a home. You will always come back to your home and you will always have a place that will celebrate even your smallest goals. I think you make your house a home. You might connect all the family members with each other and even if there isn't much love between them they share this mutual love for you. You also have your community I think for this pile their family is not just their parents who gave birth to them etc but also other people that they have found over the years. You have a bigger family than the rest of the people. You are very celebrated. Are you good with decorations or surprises? There is something coming up regarding that I think your family might have wanted to do something for you alot of times but they fail because you are always two steps ahead. Your family might also feel as if they are a burden to you or perhaps you do more for them than they do for you? This might be a native household I'm also hearing a language I heard "their first time living too" and "maybe they really don't know any better"

Pile 4-

Oh they really fw however it's either that they think you are too much with your friends and about friendship or they believe and actually think of you as someone who is their friend and keeps a very friendly environment in the house. They might think that you like to party and have fun and also that people around you just have fun yk. Do you bring your friends to your home alot I see one in particular dancing with you dancing queen by ABBA started playing in my head. I heard "a very loving community". However they might also feel as if you have not yet discovered who you truly are. They might often worry that you are too fixed on the superficial thing and other people and pay no focus to your own well being I heard "emptiness and hopeless" that's not how they feel about you but that's what they believe that you feel about yourself. They might worry about your future and might want you to see things for what they truly are I heard "disregard for consequences". But they believe that you are someone who's very compassionate and composed.

[zepskies]

Aww yay!! Thank you so much, lovely. 🥹💕 Please don't apologize, I love it!! 😍

I wish he was real at least once a day, I wanna give him a bunch of little kisses all over his face so bad 😩💗

God, right??! 😩 I'd smother him with affection lmao. 💋

I loveee this. <33 honestly the concept of traditional bachelor/bachelorette parties make zero sense to me, like wdym last night of freedom??? i'd simply cancel the wedding, go be free lmaoo 🙂‍↔️🤚🏽

Girl I'm with you!! If you're in a relationship about to get married, what is this "freedom??" 🥴🥴 I feel like Sam would think the same way lol.

ohhh I felt this to my coreeeee 😭 ( those 'fake nice' mean girls are the worst like it gets to a point you'd just prefer them to be straight up lol)

Exaaaaaclty! 😫 You know who I'm talking about here. lol I think we've all encountered those "fake nice" mean girls at some point.

now I understand that this is probably a wild thing to highlight, however, it's making me giggle so bad after knowing how the rest of the chapter goes 🤣 his intuition is on point lmfaooo with that being said, I truly adore their connection. 💓 it's so genuine and comfortable <33 and that spiceeee, it had me blushing ❤️‍🔥🫠 so good 🫶🏽

Ahahaa I'm actually glad you highlighted that part because that's exactly what that was -> foreshadowing for things to...er...come. 😝

Aww I'm so happy you're enjoying their connection so far! Even though it's a one-night stand, it is coming from a genuine place. Glad you liked the sexy stuff to go along with it too. 😘❤️‍🔥

you tell him sammy !! I completely understand focusing on training but a simple text message could have sufficed dean ._.

Right?! Sam's the voice of reason as always lol, while Dean's a bit of a hot mess in this story. 😆

I understand why she did this but still, aagh ☹️ my hopeless hearttt lol

I knowwwww - she did that thing of "let me just lie a bit so I can save some face with this man and not let him know that I was actually really into him and don't just wanna be his fuck buddy." While Dean is just as frustrating, not being clear that he's asking her out on a date, not a hookup lol.

deeeep sigh 😔 (nothing against canon lisa lol)

Ahahaa yep this Lisa is not exactly canon Lisa, I'll say that. 😅

And Dean Dean Dean...

considering the lovely story banner I should have guessed, but this really did surprise me somehow lollll 😭 (perhaps the gif distracted me 🤣)

Hahaaa honestly I love that you were still surprised!! 😜 (It's ok, that gif had me hypnotized sometimes when I was making the header lol)

aww sammy 🥺 he's such a sweetheart, I love him. also I can totally picture that 💀

Sam's a real sweetie for sure. 🥹 You already know he'd give Dean hell if he didn't promise to help her and be there for his baby. 💗💗

~Bitch Face Activated~

lmfaoooooo dean pls 🤣 gotta love that sibling analysis

ahaha thank you for highlighting that line because that was one of my favorites for Dean. 🤣 I think I just like the alliteration of "Big Bird body language."

i'd be blaming her for sure because how is she gonna be mad at something that happened before she was in the picture, then continue to be mad as if she's not actively choosing to stay, which is wild to me considering it's only been two months 💀 (she low-key reminds me of mona from friends 😩)

Yes you're seeing my Friends parallels in this one loll. Very much the Ross/Rachel surprise pregnancy situation, with Mona and Joey (as Benny) thrown into the mix. 😆😆

this could just be my anger issues talking but the urge to bitch slap her has appeared and it only intensified the more she talked 🤠 nothing more irritating than thinly veiled insults and backhanded comments. and how dare she do this, not just to another woman, but a pregnant woman? i'd cuss her out so quick like ho is you cool?? pack it up and put it away nobody asked for your projections negative nelly 🤚🏽

Oh definitely this is the worst Lisa lmao. There's nothing worse than unsolicited health/weight loss advice, especially to a pregnant lady, and ESPECIALLY from someone who has never had a baby and doesn't know anything about childbirth. 🙄 Lisa's 31 flavors of out of line on this one, but no matter how much she wants to hit back, the reader here is holding her tongue mainly because she doesn't want to create more of a mess for Dean. 🥲

oh god my patience could neverrr 😭 it may be a bit irrational, but I would be so upset like you just kissed your gf, do not touch me sir. 🤠more importantly though, how are you going to juggle a new relationship with another woman and be truly committed to all the responsibilities of a new baby? :/ oh dean

And you'd totally be in your right to feel that way. 🥲 Dean's trying to be considerate, he just doesn't know how to navigate this situation very well. 🤣 (Clearly he's never had to deal with real emotions with women before.)

oooo I woulda smacked her hand away, like don't touch me you sneaky wench 🤺

"sneaky wench" got me so hard! 🤣

awww, i wanna give her a huuuuuug :(( honestly he's so real for this lolll

Aww so does Dean (and a lot more lol). 🥲

this was a great first chapter! the preview for the next part has me intrigued, and a bit confused 😅 i’m really looking forward to seeing how this plays out <333

Thank you so very much, friend!! Haha I don't blame you for being confused with the sneak peek, but you shall see. *rubs hands together* There's LOTS of drama yet to unfold in Part 2...

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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[sunrisecaminus]

Requesting a tfp scenario where team prime finds reader and Ultra Magnus being affectionate in public for the first time. They're sitting down, cuddled up together when she shows him a drawing on a datapad she's working on. Upon realizing they're being watched she just looks up and asks if they need something.

The reader arrived with him and appears more laidback, but the Wreckers considered her Magnus's unofficial SIC because she was often in the background, quietly making sure that orders were carried out. She's called Magnus her partner occasionally when he wasn't around, but the team wasn't sure if she meant it romantically or not because her tone's hard to read.

The pair never meant to hide it or anything, they're just very chill about their relationship and kind of forgot to tell them.

Sorry it took a bit to make another post. I have been so tired from work and full-time college at the same time. Please understand that if your request takes a bit longer than you hoped, I promise it will most likely come your way. I rarely deny requests (especially if the requestion is not super specific, which means I have an open freedom of creativity to put more into the fic.) This request was perfect and honestly super cute, I had to write about it.

Ultra Magnus x Cybertronian Reader

Summary - Everyone at the Autobot base reacts to you and Magnus being conjunx.

Warning - Public Affection

Both of you were having the time of your lives. Going on missions together, talking alone and not having Wheeljack interrupt y'all. It the was of the best weeks you guys have had in a while. Ultra Magnus and you have been dating since before the war and you guess it just has never been said to the others how in love you two were. Sometimes you hear people saying things about how "Ultra Magnus is single for a reason" and it makes you giggle from what they don't know. You kiss him every morning, and he gets flustered every time. He cherishes you and thinks about you every waking moment he has. He praises primus for keeping you alive all this time, knowing how low of a chance it was for any of his friends to survive. He thanks everyday for you being able to sleep with him in his birth room and not be injured in Medbay.

Ultra Magnus was doing some paperwork in base, ready to go back into Medbay to hand it over to Ratchet. He has thought about where he was now and honestly, he doesn't mind it too much. Earth has been so pretty yet delicate, making him motivated to help Optimus during every Decepticon attack. The humans are a bit weird and chaotic, but some seem to have a mature personality, no matter how young they seem to be for Cybertronians. The oldest he has met was Fowler, and even his age would be newborn age for Ultra Magnus. He is surprised these things can die so early, yet that doesn't give them the right to leave them unprotected. Their world is in danger, and they need to help these fleshlings from going extinct. You, his conjunx, think the very same. Having become friends with most of the humans in the base has helped you grow more empathetic towards them. You persuaded Magnus to care more than he did the first time he landed on the planet and he doesn't regret one bit listening to you.

You see him in the hallway and before he goes to grab Ratchet, you grab his chassis and shove him against the wall. "Where do you think your going?" You giggle with evil intent as you lay your head on his chest. Magnus's frame gets a bit hotter as his cheeks flare up. You do this a lot when y'all are alone, and goodness does he want you to do it privately. Now a days he does not mind it, knowing you both have been conjunx for over four million years. He pets you on the helm and try to keep his posture while being pinned against the wall. "W-well, I was going to give my work to Ratchet…until I got rudely interrupted." You give him a smile and kiss him on the cheek. "Well after you do that why don't we have lunch? Me and Optimus just came back with enough energon for everyone. We should be ok for another week."

…

Ultra Magnus was sitting down in the main room of the base, a drink in his hand, waiting for you to come back after taking a small bath in the lake. It was gross knowing that everyone couldn't have clean cybertronian showers, but it had to do. You dry yourself and walk over to see him waiting for you. The smirk you gave him, throwing your leg around to sit on his lap. His face was fully flushed as he hesitantly places his servo on your leg to rest. You lean yourself on his chassis again and was ready to take a nap. The warmth he brought to your frame was the best thing today. Everything was just so nice, not wanting to remember the war that you both have went through for the past 4 million years.

Holding him tightly was the only thing you can think of doing, until you hear a small gasp. "What?" You turn to see Miko wide eyeing you both. Ultra Magnus was shocked to see her and realized she was now just a ticking time bomb now to tell everyone. You smile at her and lift your head up just a bit. "Good evening child, what are you doing here? Aren't you suppose to be in school?" Miko ignored everything you said and looked behind herself than back at you. "You're dating?!" Ultra was about to speak up about how inappropriate that question was, but you just nod in agreement. "Yes, Magnus is what I call my conjunx. We have bonded together to love each other for the rest of our lives." You didn't know humans had this kind of stuff so you try to explain it as best as you could to a teenager like her. You have been told multiple times that she was one of the more immature ones of the group. Speaking of, she has seemed to run off squealing for Bulkhead and Wheeljack. Even they didn't know about it and rushed over to see y'all snuggling. Wheeljack was dying of laughter and Bulkhead scratched his helm in confusion. "I don't get it. Magnus is one of the most closed off mechs I have met in my life. How did you get him to see you, y/n?" The question was reasonable to Bulkhead and the others, knowing Magnus as a strict no it all. For you, the question was funny from start to finish, knowing that you grabbed his attention with ease from how good you preform on missions.

Miko ran to go tell more and Ratchet seemed surprised at first, knowing conjunx was a very rare thing in Cybertronians and especially when the war has lasted this long. Optimus just congratulated his general for the loving relationship he had with you. Arcee could not freaking believe it like the kids, and Bumblebee was just as happy as a b-…a bee. Magnus didn't care too much that it came out, he just hated that Miko was the one out of the whole group to figure it out. You were open to answer any of their questions about how you met, what it was like at first, and how you both worked it out when the war began. It was a nice refresher to remember the old times anyway, you liked to think about those times when you both were so young. Magnus the whole time was quiet, only saying a few facts that you left out here and there. Everyone's attention was grabbed onto you, so they don't see him wrapping his arm around your waist. Magnus really just wanted alone time with you, which you motion to him that you promise to cuddle with him tonight…but right now your friends has many important questions to help understand the love that was just acknowledged in the room.

[yanoverload]

𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖! 𝕊𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕤𝕤

This time, the portrait is at the end of the post, and you will see why!

The story is based on a magic fictional world, much like those in villainess isekai manhwas. 

I promise I don't hate any church ok. I only used words related to real life as a way to make it understandable.

Also you thought Dae-Ho was cuckoo? HAH THIS GUY IS SO MUCH WORSE.

Also I'll post a drawing of "Anneliese" later for you guys to imagine her.

ℍ𝕚𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕝 "𝔸𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕤𝕖" 𝕊𝕔𝕙ä𝕗𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟜 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝟙𝟟𝟟 𝕔𝕞 (𝕠𝕣 𝟝’𝟠 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕥)

🌟 As much as it likes to deny, the high church knew they had enemies. 

🌟 They were far and between, but they refused to leave until the current administration of said holy empire was destroyed.

🌟 That was at least, the current plan of the biggest assassination guild known on the six empires, also known as Tartaros. 

🌟 And they had the perfect guy for the job. 

🌟 Codename Carnelian, actually named Himmel, was the orphaned son of two well known alchemists at older times.

🌟 Said alchemists were killed by the church in the hunt for what they were currently called: defectives.

🌟 To seem merciful and holy, the children of the holy criminals were spared, but kept in church facilities that the unfortunate that live there call "detention center".

🌟 Alchemists aren't hard to identify, for their eyes look like that of the most refined jewels, said to be able to see the nature and essence of all elements on earth.

🌟 That was why, the only way Himmel managed to escape was learning glamour magic, disguising as a common nun.

🌟 Now, not only with that card in his hands, as well as years of studying the ins and outs of the institution, he was picked for the master plan.

🌟 Infiltrate the church, steal the love the worshippers have for it, and kill the high priest.

And oh, how Himmel drooled thinking about the day. 

🌟 Oh right, he's not Himmel for the time being. He's "Anneliese" the beloved and revered saintess.

🌟 It took a while to get the recognition, he admits, but how easy it is to fool everyone with a sweet and fragile looking persona.

🌟 What he didn't anticipate at the time however, was the plan the high priest had for him.

🌟 How genius it would be, to make the saintess betrothed to the ruler of the second biggest empire in their world.

🌟 The emperor/empress was the biggest stone in the church's shoes, as one of the only that didn't impose their religion on their people.

🌟 So their political move was to throw the saintess as a pawn and a spy in said empire.

🌟 That put a bit of a slow down to the Tartaros' plan.

🌟 What also slowed down their plan was Himmel's feelings.

🌟 He was taught to love no one. But even when he showed up in your own palace, you treated the saintess, someone you should hate and wish to throw to the wolves, with utmost respect and care, like a fragile doll.

🌟 And how was he supposed to not care for you when you hated the church just as much as he did?

🌟 Maybe being an empress wasn't so bad! He just had to seduce you, and after the downfall of the church, you would keep him by your side.

🌟 He didn't expect you to come back from your hunting trip so soon though.

🌟 So now, as you enter the meeting room expecting to meet certain higher ups and some kissasses of the high priest, you instead find a blonde shirtless man, covered in blood, corpses littered at his feet.

🌟 Not being the empress/emperor for nothing, you reach for your sword, but your keen eyes notice something.

🌟 A burn scar that looks like the Callisto star, the brightest in the sky, right at the back of the man's throat.

🌟 The same Saintess Anneliese has.

🌟 Burn marks being the one impossible thing to remove with spells.

🌟 The man looks at you with euphoria and obsession in his eyes.

"My love, you're back earlier than I expected. Did you know these bastards were secretly planning a coup? But don't worry, I took care of them."

🌟 In the state of shock at your discovery, you barely notice his arms slinging at your shoulders, close to you like one would to a lover.

🌟 But Anneliese or whatever this freak decides to go by, is not a lover in your eyes. They are like a Venus flytrap, seductive persona trying to swallow you whole.

🌟 He whispers in your ear.

"Let me be your executioner, and I shall turn you into god."

[exuberantocean]

Its not about choosing Gemma or Helly, it's about being recognized as a person dammit!

I know you're all into shipping Mark with Helly or Gemma, but I would like to introduce a non-shippy analysis of this scene:

Mark S. has spent this whole season and half of last season arguing and fighting for his right - and the right of all innies - to be seen as a person. For their fundamental right to exist and to treated fairly. And he just "killed" Ms. Casey. Right here, before his eyes, he's seen Ms. Casey (who he isn't in love with but does care about) turn to Gemma with no real hope of Ms. Casey ever coming back.

Up until this moment, Mark S has been trying to save Ms. Casey. And conflating her with Mark Scout's wife. And here the realization hits him in the face that he's just done the very opposite of everything he was fighting for. He might have saved Mark Scout's wife, but in so doing, he's killed Ms. Casey, soft spoken, kind Ms. Casey, and replaced her with this stranger.

Thematically I think it's very, very important that in between Ms. Casey walking through the door and Gemma fronting, we get this brief scene:

The rise up of the innies against their oppressors. The choice to fight for their personhood and their rights.

Mark S was never going to walk through that door. He loves living far too much to give it up. And he's aghast that he was just used to do that to Ms. Casey. (Not just Ms. Casey, but the what, 25 other alters Gamma's body and mind now hold.)

One thing both Mark alters have in common is how frustratingly easily they're swayed into following the commands of others. Mark Scout possibly due to his depression/addiction, Mark S because Lumon does all it can to brainwash its innies. So when Gemma tells him to come, he makes to motion to, but stops. Because he's learned to ask himself what he wants. And what Mark S wants is to live.

He chooses not to go/to live before Helly shows up.

I'm not saying all this to belittle the relationship between Mark S and Helly. Quite the opposite; the fact that Mark is his own person with his own desires capable of making his own decisions means that his relationship is real in a way that Mark Scout and others don't seem to understand and accept - largely because they do not see Mark S as a person.*

Which...is why I see most of the Mark/Helly vs Mark/Gemma discourse in the tags to frustratingly miss the whole point of the entire series.

Mark S ≠ Mark Scout

They are both entirely different people with entirely different wants, desires, and loves. And they are in love with different people. Mark Scout would have an entirely different, separate relationship with Helly (or Helena) than Mark S. And Mark S will have an entirely different, separate relationship with Gemma than Scout ever will.

Put an other way with another couple, the outie Irving and Burt could never have the same relationship that their innies have/had. Even if they became a romantic couple, they're different people than their innies and thus would have a different relationship.

I see the erasure of personhood in the tags. MarkGemma instead of MarkScoutGemma and MarkHelly instead of MarkSHelly. There is no one Mark, not anymore. That's one of the main points of the show, as far as I can see. Reintegration would kill them both.

Look, I don't know what endgame is for this show, but there's a high likelihood that it'll end with heartbreak for at least one of those two couples. But ever if it does, that doesn't cheapen either of these relationships. One is not more inherently purer or more meaningful or more important than the other. Doing so is like saying your best friend's relationship with their SO is cheap because you feel your relationship with your SO feels pure and meaningful and important to you.

They both matter. And they both exists. Fighting over which one "deserves" to exists ends up feeling like a fight over which Mark "deserves" to exist - which personality should, in the end, win out and be dominant. And that just feels deeply, deeply troubling to me.

*One striking aspect of the show is how often all the outies/non-severed people talk about the innies using the same kind of language that slave owners used to talk about their slaves in the US south. I do not think this is a coincidence.

[littelovelunette]

hey so can you do like shizcophrenic FEM! reader x sevika or vi head cannons?

i really love how you do your head cannons and writing so keep up the good work! (you don't have to do it, it just kinda popped up in my head)

Headcanons (Ft. Sevika & Violet)

This feels personal.

Contains intense schizophrenia, hallucinations, suicidal behaviour, violence

Schizophrenic!Reader

Sevika

Although it's frustrating for Sevika to not know what to do or how to help, she never leaves despite her anger at the circumstance

Would hold a Piltie therapist at gunpoint to help you cope with schizophrenia

Has done it

Often reassures you the people you see, the hallucinations, they're not really there with a flesh arm wrapped around you

Heart breaks seeing you suffer the way you do but she never lets it show she has to be strong for you or you'll fall apart

Learns to distinguish whenever you're spiralling and most of the times she waits and sees whether you can handle yourself or not— if it gets too bad, she intervenes

Tries to understand Jinx better because of the similarities

"They're not here, just me." She pulls you closer and rests her sleep clouded head on top of yours

Handcuffs are always in her drawers. If you act suicidal because of the voices in your head, she cuffs you to the headboard of the bed.

You scream and flail, pull at the cuffs and sob but Sevika knows she has to endure it if she wants you safe. She's scared of losing you to you

Mutters silent apologies as she watches you struggle, smoking in a corner of the room

When you're asleep she says, "I wish there was more I could do for you. I really do. Because whenever I see you having an episode it seems like you die inside, little by little."

Someone tries a jab at you, calls you insane and she's already breathing down his neck, choking him until she can hear his neck crack. "Say that again." Her mechanical fingers dig deep and blood seeps down his now dead, motionless body.

"What if you're also a hallucination?" Sevika's heartbreaks when you say that but she doesn't cry. She doesn't try to convince you otherwise. She just grabs you and hugs you— some nights you struggle against it, slap her, scratch her but she doesn't care. She's desperate to hold onto the last strands of your sanity.

Some nights you wake and try to flee from Sevika because the voices in your head convince you, she's gonna hurt you.

But the cuffs jingle against your wrist and you see Sevika has you cuffed to her own flesh wrist

Violet

Doesn't baby you around during your episode she gives you a grounding hug and reminds you that you're alright with her

It hits her like PTSD because she's witnessed her sister have the same thing

Mad at the situation because she can't punch her way out of it

"Are you real?" You ask and Vi swore she felt her heart stop for a second. With a shaky hand, she take yours and presses it onto her chest as if trying to convince herself that you can still feel the steady beat of her heart. "Still here." She whispers

You get overwhelmed and you hit her, she dodges them and hugs you tightly

Vi never hits back, she loves you way too much and she wont even be mad at you for it

Keeps you distracted most of the times even if it's the most tedious things to do like fetching her a glass of water, passing a screwdriver, counting the tiles— anything that keeps your mind off of what the voices in your head tell you to do

Your first attempt was enough of a message for Vi to grasp. After that, she's stuck to you like superglue

Eyes soften when it's you and it's noticeable too

You tell her you're a burden and Vi's already pulling you in for a movie night, self care/spa day, taking you out for dinner. She tells you, "I love you too much for that to ever happen."

"Please. Stay. If you lose it, I'll die." She whispers when you're asleep.

Never tells you all those when you're awake because she's scared you'll feel like she's guilt tripping you with the amount of overthinking you do

"You ain't fighting this shit alone, got it?"

[lemotmo]

911 8x11 thoughts and ruminations

Okay! I’m just going to word vomit here!

I cannot order my thoughts rationally, because I’m so damn excited and happy!

Bobby stuff first because I need to ramble about Buddie afterwards:

Parental redemption AGAIN! I get WHY they did it and I like HOW they did it, but I don’t think his mom deserved this redemption so quickly to be honest. She is sick and they don’t have much time left, but a lot of shit happened to Bobby and she should have protected her kid at all costs. That is what you do as a mother. So yeah, I feel conflicted about this storyline. It was acted really well, I understand where they are coming from and let’s not forget Aisha’s awesome direction. But it was too quick. They never really hashed out what went wrong.

As for the Buck and Buddie of it all… I mean, I’m sure some of the Tommies will try to make it about Tommy again, but really? Who would be delusional then? 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

This was ALL about Eddie and Buck being really in love with him, without recognizing it. The man is in some serious denial.

The way that he had trouble living in Eddie's house was so good. He keeps thinking about him. I love how he tried to make the house his own in the end, but he ended up putting up furniture in the exact same spots Eddie's things were. He was basically recreating Eddie's house. It was soooo obvious. LOVED THAT SO MUCH!!!

The BT making out scene was mild and it was clearly all about the sex of it. Buck even questioned why Tommy was still there in the morning. Tommy was obviously more hopeful then Buck. Buck didn’t even think about him and Tommy getting back together. He was just all about EDDIE EDDIE EDDIE!

Tommy basically slept with him because ‘the competition was gone’. I mean!!! Tommy clocked Buck’s ass so fast! And then his reaction to Buck’s ‘Eddie’s straight’. WHAT? What was that Tommy? Tommy clocked Eddie’s ass as well. This is so wild! WE ARE FINALLY HERE! They are questioning Buck’s feelings for Eddie and Eddie’s sexuality! I mean… this is it. This is what we have been waiting for all along! The plot deviced plot deviced and pushed Buddie to the front of the narrative. So the slowburn is officially slowburning and everyone in the GA witnessed it!

Then Buck talks to Maddie, who also doesn’t seem very convinced that buck isn’t in love with Eddie AND even seemed to question Eddie's straightness. What??? And then Buck decides to apologise to Tommy and try being alone. But not without mentioning Eddie’s name a hundred more times. AAAH!

And poor Ravi! He must be soooo sick of the Eddie stories by now.

GOOD TIMES!

And no… no matter what anyone said in the post interviews… no… this is not them closing Buddie down. What are they going to say? They cannot tell the truth, because that would spoil the storyline. NAH! They’ll keep quiet about for sure. So don't go dooming and glooming about this, okay? It'll all be all right in the end. Trust the narrative! Trust the story they are obviously telling here! Trust your eyes and your common sense!🙂‍↕️

I’m thinking they actually might switch this up. They might have Eddie realise and accept he is in love with Buck first, before Buck realises. Because Buck is in full denial right now, while everyone can see that he doesn’t know his own emotions on this.

I feel like I can finally take a breath. After seven seasons they are finally going there.

What a great episode! I loved it. The Bobby and Bobby’s mom story was questionable, but it was still entertaining, so yeah…

I probably forgot to mention a lot of other stuff, but I can’t think of anything but Buddie right now. My mind is going crazy. I can’t stop smiling!

[iamfuckingsorry]

so i really didn't like fugitive telemetry nearly as much as the rest of the series on my first listen, in part because i spent a big chunk of it confused about what the hell i missed because i was listening to it in publishing order, and in part because mb spends a great deal of it feeling super uncomfortable about basically everything

but i'm listening to it again now and i can really see why people seem to like it.

mb's really struggling with its identity in this one oh god. it knows it's a secunit it wants to be a secunit it is not a human or a bot or anything else and it does not want to be treated as anything else but what it is. but it also. fucking hates being treated as a secunit. and it's especially bad because so many of the people on preservation are trying to be nice about it, like there's several instances of people going "oh hi--- oh wait fuck the feed id says secunit oh shit it's the secunit--- wait no calm tf down it has rights yeah i know it's scary af but you still need to treat it like a person oh god okay let's be weirdly polite and pretend you're not scared" and mb clearly hates that immediate reaction to what it is, but it seems to hate people forcing themselves to be aggressively polite around it just as much, because at least that immediate reaction is what it's used to

ah mb both wanting to be equal and being horribly freaked out by the idea of being equal because equal means human and the idea of being human is so incredibly gross will never stop being entertaining (and very very relatable)

pin lee is also just so aggressively in mb's corner, she doesn't really play /that/ big of a role in the book but she's 100% fighting for mb basically from the moment it comes back to save mensah in exit strategy, and here mb just needs to be like "ew i don't wanna do that" and pin lee feels like she would fucking. kill someone. to make sure mb doesn't need to do things it doesn't wanna do. can i also get a pin lee please.

also the bit where mb talks about people seeing it on tv or something? i can't remember if it's the documentary or if it maybe comes up in another context but there's definitely a part where mb talks about how it wouldn't mind that actually. and knowing what happens later on i'm just like. ahhhh foreshadowing!! nice!!

and it gets to do proper secunit stuff! it's so happy about it, like "yes i liked this plan better. partially because it was a better plan but also because it was a secunit plan, not a combatunit plan". like i know we all (me included) wonder if/what kind of sexual abuse mb's been through the way it reacts to maybe being percieved as a sexbot and stuff, but it also clearly doesn't want to be perceived as any other kind of construct either. it's not a comfortunit, it's not a combatunit, it's a secunit goddamnit (insert bones "im a doctor not an ---" gif here)

and the way it just. doesn't understand the preservation bots at all. jollybaby probably thinks it's being all cute and friendly including and mb just finds it. annoying. the other bots are a variety of genuinely friendly and lowkey an ass but doing the same Nice and Polite thing that some of the preservation humans do to it, and mb feels all sorts of ways about it, like if all of them are playing some kind of weird game where they roleplay as happy content bots even though they couldn't possibly be since they're not really free

and its relationship with indah, and the way it goes from "ugh i hate this human" (because said human is very much treating it like a dangerous murder weapon, very fair reaction) to "ugh i still don't like this human but i wouldn't necessarily /hate/ having to work with her again" (because said human has actually started to realize that secunit 1. fucking loves saving people is just can't help itself, 2. is actually fucking amazing at its job, and 3. maybe really does deserve to be treated like a person)... like they're not friends by the end of it but they're much, much closer to something like coworkers who don't work the same way but are generally fairly okay with each other. god it just can't fucking help making some kind of connection with humans can it

anyway i dunno where i was going with this, my memory is too shit to actually pull up any specific examples and i'm all just about vibes, but it's just like

good book actually

[midnightshindig]

Ahhhhhhhh why are you so good at embodying the characters when you write??! (Teach me👀)

This has been on my mind for awhile, but Mark x platonic ride or die bestie headcanons. I just feel bad for him yknow? Home boy/girl/babe is ready to rock the next enemy’s ****shit**** if they make things a smidge stressful for him or his loved ones. But is also simultaneously very considerate/sweet in their own dumpster-fire way. No matter what dimension, what decision, what future, they’re there because they care. Oh imagine them being like an older sibling figure to Oliver or later on Uncle/Aunt figure for Tara!

Thank you for your time - hope you’re doing well 🫡✨

Mark & Bestie!Reader

Okay so here's where I tell you all my shameful secret:

I had one of those etsy accounts where you pay to get a letter from a fictional character in middle school...

I made like over a thousand dollars with it before deactivating it for school reasons. and that's how I'm so well versed in getting into character. Is I used to get paid to do it.

My one tip is to-- obviously-- understand the character. But not from their perspective, from YOUR perspective. You have to get it and find a way to be them that is still you or else it's too unnatural and you feel cringe

ALSO IDK WHAT THE FUCK A TARA IS BUT I WILL SMITE YOU. Please no comic spoilers <3 (/nm)

anyways hcs under the cut!

Mark was a pretty feeble dude in high school pre-powers

and William-- as a scrawny gay kid-- can only protect him from so much

Which is why when you-- tall ass feisty ass chomping-at-the-bit Y/n-- came into his life, you clicked instantly

It was a classic case of Muscle and brain

except you were both Mark's protector AND his geography tutor

sooo.... idk what Mark really brings to the table

I'm kidding I'm kidding!

you and Mark are absolute homies and you're so happy to have met him

....

especially when he GETS SUPERPOWERS???

All those years of you beating down cruel jocks and trash talking snobby snoots have finally paid off

because now this 18-year-old dweeb owes you like basically a lifetime of free flights to wherever

ohhhh and you abuse this power SO much it's not even funny

"Mark, I feel like Pizza-"

"Oh no..."

"In Italy!"

"This is the fourth time this month!"

"Chop chop, super boy."

Not to say you're using him, though

you're still the same gung ho supportive riot you've always been

When Cecil is getting in Mark's space and business, you're the first person up from your chair to bark at him to

"SHUT THE FUCK UP"

Like "Mark dude I really don't like you taking orders from some politician snob. He's bad news."

and he'd come to an "I told you so moment" with you in a few years.

But you never hold it against him.

Mostly.

You're also one of the only people who Mark listens to when he's wrong

"I'm not leaving Eve!"

and you fucking kick in the door like

"Mark- your eight year old brother is out there ALONE and DEFENSLESS against MURDEROUS YOUS. Debbie is who knows where and if you don't take the fight to them, they're going to bring the fight to you with my head on a stick." You jostle him and shove him by the shoulders

Mark, frazzled and annoyed "no! I'm not leaving her-"

"Shut the FUCK UP." You stop, holding him sternly "Eve is going to HATE YOU for this. Get the fuck out there and let me handle things here." your face softens "I'll make sure these pigs don't touch her."

Powerless though you are, this brings him enough comfort to agree to go back to fighting

Eve can't thank you enough for this when she wakes up weeks later

Mark has a lot of power imbalance issues

it's good that he has someone so staunchly opposed to him who loves him so much

but you're not here to corral Mark into what YOU want him to do

for example

"Y/n, I don't know what to do, Cecil won't stop using D.A Sinclair and Darkwing- but they're murderers! How can he expect me to just work with them?!"

You took a long sip of your sweet tea, perched comfortably on your gaming chair

"I mean, I don't know, Mark. They seem under a tight leash, and doesn't everyone deserve a chance to make up for what they did?"

"Ugh- not murderers. Not guys like that." Mark is conflicted, folding his arms

You spin in your chair casually "I think you're dead wrong, but if you want to storm the capital and fuck up Sinclair yourself, I'll back you."

Mark nods in appreciation, his soles hitting the ground when he didn't even realize he was floating

"Thanks, Y/n.... I appreciate that."

"You know it, man. I'll overthrow a government for you any day. Your powers, my smarts-"

"Yyyyyou have a C in physics-"

"Ah ah aH! HONORS Physics. For second years. In college. and I'm what?" Mark opened his mouth to answer before you cut him off "I'm a first year! So blah blah blah YOUR superpowers and MY smarts." You took another drink of sweet tea "We got this."

You're the only person Mark really trusts to babysit Oliver

Since you're the only person Oliver is too scared to disobey

like not that you beat the kid or anything

you're just intimidating

He sees how you boss around his older brother- his whole WORLD- and he's like... damn gotta get in my pjs and brush my teeth before 8 ig

But you're pretty lax with him

"Hey Oliver, wanna go to the skatepark tonight?"

He's like bouncing on his toes all excited "yeah!!"

"Okayyyy but you gotta eat your peas and fly me there"

so he eats his peas and you get the hilarious visual of an eight year old holding your hands as you dangle helplessly in the air

he's literally too little to hold you any other way lmao

Mark never knowssss

Oliver is in bed by the time anyone gets home

and you're on the couch flipping through and prank calling every telepalm reader in their yellow pages

"Oh hey, you're home!" with a big, mischievous ass grin

and then Mark joins you on the couch and prank calls hella telepalm readers with you

You help him not lose his teenage boy-ness

and he needs that

so

so desperately