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impala124 · 3 days ago

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Bad Buddy 12

My thoughts on Ep 1 | Ep 2 | Ep 3 | Ep 4 | Ep 5 | Ep 6 | Ep 7 | Ep 8 | Ep 9 | Ep 10 | Ep 11

Me, at the end of this episode:

Oh, we have a 4-year time skip!! Interesting.

Pat, where is the Nong Nao doll? I don't see it on your bed. I need answers right now.

I like the transition from Pat putting down his toothbrush to Pran picking up his own. Very clever.

Pran, quick question: WHERE ARE YOU? I see the view in the background, and that's one of Singapore's most iconic buildings, if I'm not wrong, which is definitely not in Thailand. So, boy, what's your ass doing in Singapore?

At least he's still wearing The Watch, so I have hope. Pran's a yearner through and through, so I expected nothing less from him.

We all agree that Max is hitting on Pran, right? Pran's not having any of it, though.

Poor Pat, he doesn't look too happy when Korn and Wai mention revisiting the old days.

Not the fucking elevator flashback 😭😭. Oh no, the curry Pran made for him after he confessed that he liked him. Man, this shit hurts!!

I, for one, am not at all surprised that Pat joined his father's business after graduation. I could've told you that on the day we first met him.

Sidenote, but why are these 22/23-year-olds lamenting about getting old?

Guys, Pa graduated from university and is making a movie!! My baby's all grown up now!! *wipes tears*

Ok, Wai and Korn each have girlfriends. How about instead of saving for individual dowries, you both just ditch the girls and marry each other? Just food for thought.

But why aren't they bringing up Pat's love life? Is it still a touchy topic? I mean, it's been 4 years, and we don't know what reason they gave their friends for the breakup, though, so we shall see.

What do you mean someone else moved into Pran's room? It should've been preserved as a heritage site. Contacting the people at UNESCO ASAP.

Ink and Pa are on my screen together. My boys might be miserable right now, but at least my girls are thriving.

A high school reunion, you say? If I'm not wrong, Pat, Pran, and Ink went to the same high school. Are they going to MEET at the reunion????!

Wow, Ink misses her high school classmates. Definitely can't relate to that sentiment, bestie.

Pat, sir, is that a smile on your face at the possibility of running into Pran at the reunion?

Not Pat looking solemnly at the memory wall.😭😭

THIS IS NOT A DRILL. Pran is here at the reunion!!!

Okay, so just looking longingly at each other is all I'm going to get for now.

"But some things can never change." Pat, bestie, change is the only constant in life. Fuck everything else and go get your man!!

Are you really playing a game at your reunion if the prize up for grabs isn't something like an accommodation voucher for a night at a mid-budget hotel??

Not the trip down memory lane😭. Y'all are in the same room; talk to each other and put yourselves (& me) out of this misery.

A live performance, you say? And PRAN IS SINGING. Now, don't tell me it's the song he wrote to soft launch his feelings to Pat in high school.

Yes, he is. Pat, are you listening? I know you're hearing it, but are you LISTENING to it?

EXCUSE ME! What was that sweet smile you guys just exchanged? I need an explanation!! NOW!!!

A group photo with them being pushed towards each other, which could be a metaphor for the string of fate always bringing them back together. Love to see it.

Pat, let me introduce you to something called a cab. It's really effective in taking your friend's drunk ass home, especially when your ex is giving you THE LOOK!!

Okay, Pat's on the phone with Pa (probably?) and is complaining about being hungry. You know what you should do, Pat? Go to your favorite noodle shop and wait for your ex to show up so that you can talk things through.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S PRAN ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR AND ON THE PHONE??!!! My brain is malfunctioning right now.

"You said you'd sleep at your house." What in the hell is happening right now?

Crisis averted, the Nong Nao doll makes an appearance on the bed.

Okay, Pran, I see you wearing your 'happy hour' shirt while complaining to your boyfriend (?) about Singapore's air pollution.

One thing about them: they are going to use the fucking sponsored makeup remover on the other. It's quite endearing, actually.

BB Product placement stays superior till the end.

I need an explanation, stat!! Are you still mad I didn't pick you up at the airport? What is that boyfriend-ass statement, Pat?

Pran just referred to Pat as his boyfriend. "We've been together for too long."

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY NEVER BROKE UP IN THE FIRST PLACE??!!! I need a minute to process this.

My reaction till now, everyone, is the fucking Kuleshov effect in action, with me thinking that both of them are sad because of their 4-year-long separation, when in reality, they are just boyfriends missing each other.

Aww, a memory wall in their home.

Finally, THE GUITAR PICK that Pat made for Pran all those years ago makes an appearance!

So, according to the photos on THE WALL, Pat actually visited Pran in Singapore.

I do hope we get a home tour at some point; I'm really interested in seeing how Pran's OCD self blended his life with Pat's messy ass.

Unknowingly, from two people who couldn't be friends, we became two people who were more than friends.

So, they lied to everyone by saying that they broke up and began Secret relationship 2.0

Not them holding their fucking pinkies together when they pass by in the hallway ASFDGHF—

Time and space are just a construct when it comes to me and my blorbos because remember what I said when they were dating in secrecy the first time? I told them that they should have at least one person they are both familiar with to be in the know about their relationship to maintain a successful secret relationship. And Pran IRREFUTABLY heard me because Wai, Korn, Pa, and Ink knew about them this time around. I bet Einstein didn't foresee this coming.

Aww, they even visited Uncle Tong and Junior after they graduated.

I love that the parents aren't still getting along, because in such cases where the rivalry dates back decades, it feels abnormal to not continue doing so. It's almost like sunk cost fallacy but make it about rivalry.

However, I do love the little detail of Ming having to back off during their car face-off because Ming was the one who stabbed Dissaya in the back, figuratively speaking, all those years ago.

Not Pran rubbing the shirt all over his body to ensure that his scent lasts for a while💀 My boy is an actual menace.

Pat, sir, what are you thinking sending thirst pics to your boyfriend AT WORK?

They even held their pinkies together in their high school reunion photo.

Oh, I'm a happy camper because all my ships are sailing smoothly. The irony of Wai and Korn running the bar (where they used to fight with each other on a regular basis) together is just 😂 😂

Wai and Korn are soft launching their relationship, and no one can tell me otherwise. See, Pat is also a KornWai truther.

Pa, sweetheart, Ink was pining for you since she was in high school. I don't think you need to worry about her straying.

Keep up with shoving your couple photos down everyone's throats, though, just because y'all are hella cute together.

Korn does look like a middle-aged Asian uncle when he is complaining about the rival faculties breaking tables. Oh, how the tables have turned.

Yes, Wai, it's your penance for all the mess you guys used to cause all those years ago.

"Guys, I don't mind if you want to fight, but you must get a lover out of the fight, just like me." STAHP IT

Pran went from ordering three wontons to four—that's how you know he's in a long-term relationship, accommodating your partner without any prodding from their side.

Pran's "I brought your dad a bottle of liquor" is a solid strategy. There is nothing Asian dads love more than receiving imported liquor, even if they don't drink. A sure way to win some brownie points.

Kissing in front of the trashcans!!!! Oh, how far they've come.

Ming once again being the most Asian dad to ever exist by just randomly flipping through the newspaper just to appear busy.

As much as I love to hate on his quintessential Asian dad quirks, he is the most relatable of bl dads for me. Is he perfect? No, but I don't think anyone can say that he doesn't love his son.

Ink is accepted by Pa's parents, which doesn't surprise me one bit because she's perfect. PERIOD.

The dinner scene at Pat's house is a callback to the dinner scene in the initial episodes, when the dad was telling Pat to not let the neighboring boy win at any cost. Oh, how the tables have turned! Now, Pat is trying to curry favor with his dad for the said neighboring boy.

MING TOOK A SIP. Told ya, Asian dads just can't resist imported liquor.

The question of Pran's guitar. Did Pat keep it with him this time around too??!!

Ming crossed the LINE to deliver the mail, and Dissaya saw it.

Awww, his mom put it on his bed, which goes in line with my theory about parallels between Dissaya accepting Pran playing the guitar and him loving Pat. So, I'll be taking this as silent acceptance from her regarding their relationship.

I think both of them are ready to bury the hatchet, TO AN EXTENT, for the sake of their kids happiness.

Going off on a tangent for a bit, but bear with me. Let me take a moment to thank @respectthepetty for training me into thinking of love whenever I see the color pink because, what was the paint color the fathers used to draw the boundary between their houses all those years ago? Yes, it was fucking pink. It means that the answer was love all along. They were MEANT to fall in love to bridge the rift between their families. Talk about 'born to be together,' which was the exact sentiment Pran wanted to convey through The Song in high school.

Now, Pat coming into Pran's room through the window is a clear callback to the time Pat did the same to return the watch after Pran saved Pa. However, then he did it to tell Pran to not act friendly towards him in front of others, and now it's to spend some time with him without hiding from anyone, even their parents.

"If not you, I won't allow anyone else to use it. Pran, when I catch you—

Not Pran, my resident menace, trying to wake up the green-eyed monster by mentioning that Wai may have used it before💀😂

Pran's dad providing the meta commentary with his "This show is just so good." comment.

Ah, forehead kisses, my beloved!!!

Man, the flashbacks to when they were kids overlapping with them right now are just the cutest.

Everyone gather around because I just had a very big-brained thought. Remember, in Ep 8, on the rooftop, Pat wanted to share their relationship with the entire world while Pran asked what's wrong with just wanting to keep it for themselves. What if, whatever happened with their relationship after that, was just exploring both their paths? They clearly tried Pat's way first because Pran cared about him, despite his worry, and it resulted in the Ep 11 ending. After that, they took Pran's way and we all saw how it panned out for them. It might've taken them four years, but their parents are kinda onboard with their relationship.

Now that we're on this subject, let me try to provide some context to Wai pulling down the curtain on their relationship. Not defending his actions, but me thinks it was very intentional that Wai heard Pran say that although he's worried about others finding out about their (Pat & Pran's) relationship, he's willing to take the risk because he cares about Pat more. Wai's vindictive ass heard that and went through his montage of Pran lying to me about his relationship with Pat moments in his head and decided to put Pran's words about caring about Pat more to the test.

We get a post-credit scene? Truly the gift that keeps on giving.

Of course it had to be on a rooftop! Wait a second. Pat's birthday is on 23rd April, and the first time Pat slept over in Pran's room is on 24th April. The psychological implications of it all (for me) can't be overstated!!

Pran, my menace-in-residence, was really showing his horny ass by saying, 'The winner can do anything to the loser.' Never change, bestie!!

Well, I got the house tour I asked for earlier. Fucking Architectural Digest could never.

They shut the door in my face, and I said thank you!!

Honestly, I don't think I've even processed the finale yet. It was very pleasing to my lizard brain, that's for sure. I need to sit with it for a few days, and I'll probably write something about my whole experience liveblogging this BB watch and my thoughts on some of the CHOICES made in the whole series. A sneak peek of few things that are marinating in my head are—

Pat associating Pran with home because he feels lost (I was only half-joking when I compared him to a lost puppy following Pran around).

The air of sadness around Pat that just goes unacknowledged for the most part.

Pran associating Pat with freedom because he feels burdened.

Pran feeling undeserving of Pat's love.

Like I said, I'll be thinking about them a WHOLE LOT.

Quick question: Were there any talks of a season 2? Because there are some easter eggs peppered throughout the series that deserve further exploration, and they definitely have issues they need to address and work through as a couple. This ending will only count as an HFN (happy for now) in my book. I'm putting this ending on par with the To My Star ending, and I adored To My Star 2, so there's that. Still waiting for To My Star 3, though that's a discussion for another day.

One thing I can say for sure is that I'm extremely grateful for the fandom that has welcomed me with open arms and engaged with all my ramblings each episode, because let's be honest, it was just a stream of consciousness.

I wouldn't have had nearly as much fun watching the series without you guys. I'll be camping out on the rooftop for so long that I'll be claiming squatters rights for sure!!!

Tagging the usual suspects: @shortpplfedup, @incandescentflower, @starryalpacasstuff, @7nessasaryevils, @greenteadumplings, @grapejuicegay, @madworld-bbs, @usodeshou, @tao-moonb, @fanatic-freakshow @desi-yearning.

#bad buddy #bb liveblog #thai bl

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redisthenewblue · 22 hours ago

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TINKER-Twisted Wonderland x Tinkerbell!Yuu/Fem!Reader Part 2

Part 1

[Name] was jolted awake by a gentle poke to her side.

“Mrggg…” The girl mumbled, rolling over.

“[Name], you need to talk to Headmage Crowley,” Lilia said, and at those words, the girl shot up, her head darting from side to side.

“Headmage Crowley?! Where is he?!” she exclaimed, confusion written all over her face.

“In his office. You need to see him right now while he’s not busy,” Lilia replied.

With that, [Name] rolled out of her makeshift bed and landed on the dresser. She stretched her wings out, feeling the need to wake up a bit more, and ran her fingers through her hair. To avoid drawing too much attention, she decided to stay in her smaller form. She turned to Lilia, who was busy gathering his supplies in his bag.

“Thanks again, Lilia.”

“Not a problem at all… Good luck!” he said.

With a quick nod, [Name] set off to find Crowley. She zipped through the halls, feeling like the school was a giant maze. Finally, she stopped in front of a door that looked significant enough. Peeking at the gap under the door, a grin spread across her face. She took a few steps back to gain momentum and—oh, she got stuck. Maybe she had overestimated the size of the gap. She could see Crowley right there too! Pushing against the door, she tried to wiggle free. With one last strong shove, she tumbled across the floor, fairy dust sparkling around her with every movement. Comically, birds circled her head as she transformed back to her normal size.

“Mr. Crowley, sir,” she paused to catch her breath, “I wanted to talk to you about staying at this school. Before you say anything, just hear me out. I can’t go back home right now. If I do, I’ll be stuck in a horrible house with older siblings who absolutely despise me in Fairy Hollow, a town that feels completely unfamiliar with a future that seems just as uncertain. Please, please, please let me stay!”

Crowley’s eyes widened at her outburst, and he let out an exhausted sigh. “You can stay under certain conditions. You’ll have an earlier curfew, must keep your grades above a B-, no tardies, and if you ever feel threatened, you’re allowed to use your magic.” [Name] lit up, her glow brighter than ever. “Got it! But what about my dorm and uniform situation?” she asked eagerly.

“That will be sorted out later. For now, get to know the school and your classmates,” Crowley said, pushing a magic pen towards her. With a smile,[Name] enthusiastically took the pen and bolted out the door.

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“Pfft. All it takes is a little gust to—Hah! Oh no! The Queen of Hearts's statue looks like it’s been flame-broiled!” Ace exclaimed, his cool demeanor crumbling as he took in the damage from the fight.

“Flame-broiled indeed,” [Name] replied with a mischievous grin, enjoying Ace’s misfortune.

“Where did you come from?! Why is there a girl on campus?!” Ace shouted.

“[Name]?” Grim and Yuuken chimed in unison.

“I go to school here, duh,” she said, sticking her tongue out playfully. “So, what’s going on?”

“It’s Ace’s fault for trying to divert my fire! He should’ve just let it burn you to a crisp!” Grim shot back.

“Who in their right mind would ever do that?!” Ace retorted.

“What’s happening here? Cease this at once!” Crowley called out, making his way over.

At the sound of Crowley’s voice, [Name] froze. She really didn’t want to get blamed for anything, so she did what she does best—she shrunk down. But of course, she wasn’t going anywhere; she wanted to see how this played out. It felt like one of those cheesy Tubi movies she used to watch for inspiration on her inventions.

“Oh no! The headmage!” Ace cried, panic creeping into his voice. It was only the first day, and he was already in deep trouble.

“Not more lashings of love! We gotta get outta here!” Grim, Yuuken, and Ace tried to make a run for it, but [Name] had other plans. Whipping out her magic pen, she tripped the boys with a vine, falling over in silent laughter. This school was going to be full of opportunities for mischief! As they stumbled, Crowley approached with a fierce expression.

“OW!” Ace yelped, clutching a bruised spot on his side.

“Myaaaaah! I’m still sore from yesterday too!” Grim complained.

“As if the likes of you could ever escape my wrath! Did I not just warn you about ‘no more incidents’? And now you’ve charred one of my statues?! It’s almost like you WANT to be expelled!” Crowley threatened.

Yikes… So glad I managed to dodge that bullet!

“No! Please forgive me!” Ace pleaded.

“Hahhh… I wish I had my phone on me. This would totally blow up on magicam,” [Name] said, rolling over onto her side and getting comfortable as she watched the chaos unfold.

Crowley shifted his glare to Yuuken. “And you! You were specifically told to keep Grim under control!”

“I tried to stop him, but…” Yuuken began, only to be interrupted by the furious headmaster.

“This is unacceptable. And you! State your name and grade.”

“Ace Trappola… Freshman,” Ace said solemnly, sulking so much that [Name] thought he might just sink into the floor.

“Then listen carefully, Trappola. You, Grim, and Yuuken will be punished for today’s antics. You’re all assigned to wash a hundred windows!”

“Myah?! This is what you get for making fun of me! It’s all your fault! And where’s [Name]?!”

[Name] felt the urge to storm over and help Grim clean those dirty windows, but she had to keep her wings down and play it cool.

“What? I have to do it too?!” Ace whined.

“Of course you do,” Crowley scoffed. “You’ll meet in the cafeteria after class. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Ace finally relented.

“Ugh, I can’t catch a break!” Grim groaned. “I’m already worn out from a full day of cleaning. I can’t believe we still have to wash a hundred windows.”

Yuuken, clearly annoyed, cut in to silence Grim’s complaints. “We just have to suck it up and do it. You didn’t help at all earlier anyway…”

That’s when it hit [Name]. Yuuken didn’t snitch on her when Crowley asked where she was. In a way, she owed him something, but she just didn’t know what. Then it clicked, and she snapped her fingers.

“I know!”

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With a sense of urgency, [Namel hurried toward the ramshackle dorm, logs of wood trailing behind her. All she needed now were some metal scraps, screws, and a bit of wood polish to get things rolling. As she turned the corner, her wings twitched—a telltale sign that something was about to happen. Maybe it would be wise to take a different route to the ramshackle. "Hey, hold up there! No fair getting a head start! Wait!" The unmistakable voice made [Name] shake her head in frustration. Of course, it had to be them.

Just as she was about to turn around, something knocked her to the ground along with the logs. "Outta my way!" a boyish voice shouted, fading into the distance. As she tried to get back on her feet, Namel stumbled over the logs in a rather embarrassing fashion. Her previously calm expression morphed into one of pure fury. She whipped around to see who was responsible for this mess—it was none other than Ace Trappola. Taking a moment to gather herself, she stood up, piled the logs together, and tied them securely. With a sprinkle of fairy dust, she made them float again. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that she couldn't deal with this chaos right now; she had to get to the mirror hall.

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"This is not good..." Ace winced, clearly feeling the weight of the situation.

"What am I going to do?! How am I supposed to break this news to my mom...?" One boy was in full panic mode, realizing he couldn't afford to lose his place at NRC.

"Well... there might just be a glimmer of hope," the headmaster chimed in, offering the students a ray of optimism. "There’s a slim chance we can fix this chandelier."

"Wait, really?!" The boys shouted in unison, their hopes lifted.

"The magestone that powered this chandelier was sourced from the Dwarfs' Mine. If you can find a magestone with the same properties, we might be able to make the repairs."

"Then I’ll go look for a magestone! With your permission, sir!" one of them declared, determination shining in his eyes.

"Just a heads up—I can’t guarantee that any magestones are still out there. The mines have been closed for quite a while now, so it’s possible that all the magestones have been mined already."

"I'll do whatever it takes to avoid getting expelled, sir!" the boy insisted, desperation in his voice.

"Hmmm... Alright then. I’ll postpone your expulsion for just one night. But if you don’t bring back a magestone by morning, then all of you are out." Crowley negotiated, setting the stakes high.

"I understand, sir! Thank you so much for this chance!"

"Okay, let’s get moving. We need to find a magestone and wrap this up," Ace said, his shoulders drooping as he let out a heavy breath.

"You can reach the Dwarfs' Mine instantly by using one of the gates in the Mirror Chamber," Crowley informed them.

"Yes, sir!"

"Why do I keep running into you guys...?" [Name] grumbled as she stood at the entrance of the mirror hall, eyeing the chandelier on the floor with a frown. "How do you always manage to get into trouble?!"

Yuuken simply shook his head, muttering, "Grim and Ace..."

"Hmph." [Name] replied, "Who's that, and why is he staring at me like I’m the elephant in the room?" She pointed at the boy who was looking at her with wide eyes.

"Maybe it’s because you’re the only girl in an all-boys school?!" Ace shot back, much to [Name]'s irritation.

"Shut it," she hissed, switching her focus back to the boy who looked completely taken aback. "What’s your name?"

"Deuce... Spade…" he managed to say, still looking a bit overwhelmed.

"Deuce?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Please stop looking at me like that."

"Sorry!" he said quickly, before turning back to the boys.

"We can’t waste any more time. Let’s go! Dark Mirror! Take us to the Dwarfs' Mine!" Deuce urged enthusiastically.

"Huh?! Wait!" [Name] exclaimed, feeling herself being pulled into the portal. She desperately tried to grab onto the smooth floor, but her efforts were in vain.

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"So, this is the Dwarfs' Mine... A long time ago, it was overflowing with magestones," Deuce remarked, taking in the surroundings.

The girl rubbed the spot on her head where she had landed. "Are you serious right now?!" She quickly dusted off her pants, her wings twitching as they prepared her to take off back to campus.

"Where do you think you're going, insect?!" the cat called out, a hint of annoyance in its voice.

"Back to NRC," she replied flatly, not bothering to look back.

Just as she was about to launch herself into the air, she was suddenly tackled by a ball of fur.

"Get off me! How are you so heavy?!" [Name] struggled to push the cat off her.

"Nyah! You left us behind near those statues!" the cat exclaimed, indignation in its tone.

"That wasn't my fault, was it?!" [Name] crossed her arms defiantly. "But... I guess I can help you find the magestone. I could use a little adventure anyway."

"Look, everyone! I see a house over there. Let's check it out and see what the folks there have to say," Ace suggested, his shoulders slumping in a casual manner.

"Hello? Is anyone home...? It must be empty. This place looks like it’s been abandoned," Deuce said, glancing around.

"Bwah! I just got a spider web on my face! Ptchoo! Ptchoo!"

"Wow, these desks and chairs are tiny! Did kids live here? One, two... seven! It’s like a clown car in here," Ace joked, managing to elicit a giggle from [Name].

"When the mine was thriving, this house must have been a really lively spot," Deuce mused.

"Well, standing around here isn’t going to get us anywhere. If we want to find a magestone, we've got to go inside the mine. Let's head in," Ace declared, stepping out of the house.

"You want to go in THERE? It’s pitch black! Insect! You go first! You’ve got that weird glowing thing around you," the cat retorted, a hint of fear in its voice.

An irked expression crossed her face. "Wuss," she muttered as she stepped into the cave, her glow lighting the way.

"What, scared of the dark? Pathetic," Ace teased Grim.

"Myah?! I’m not scared of anything! I’ll take the lead! You all follow me!" Grim puffed out his chest and moved in front of [Name].

"Whoa, hold on!" Deuce warned the others.

"What now?" Ace asked, clearly annoyed.

"There's something up ahead!"

At that moment, [Name] felt a bone-chilling sensation crawl up her spine. Turning around, she gasped at the sight of a ghost, her wings instinctively spreading out as a defensive measure.

"Do make yourselves at home... You can stay forever!" the ghost rasped, a cold aura enveloping the cave as it spoke. More ghosts emerged from behind the first one.

"More ghosts?! They're floating around here too!" Ace stepped back, ready to defend himself with his magic pen.

"If we stop to fight, we’re never going to get anywhere. Let’s just keep moving," Deuce reasoned, trying to keep the group focused.

"Sure, but don’t act like we voted you as team leader. We’re here because of that ridiculous stunt you pulled," Ace shot back.

"Oh? I’m pretty sure this all started because you tried to dodge your window-cleaning punishment!"

[Name] listened to the boys argue, feeling her blood pressure rise. She just wanted to rip her hair out in frustration.

Yuuken watched [Name]’s face twist in exasperation. From what he had seen during orientation, he didn’t even want to imagine how she would react now. He cautiously covered his ears, bracing for her outburst.

"So, we’re digging up ancient history now? If we're getting into it, this all started when furball here torched that statue!" Ace pointed an accusing finger at Grim.

"Myah?! Maybe you shouldn’t have made fun of me, then!" Grim defended himself.

"SHUT UP!" [Name] snapped, startling the boys into silence. The cave echoed with her voice, and they could have sworn they heard birds fleeing from the nearby trees.

"Everyone, just calm down," Yuuken attempted to diffuse the tension.

[Name] scratched her neck sheepishly. "Sorry..."

"...iiivvv... ...oooouuu..."

"Huh?!" the group gasped in unison, fear creeping into their voices.

"Wh-where's that coming from? [Name], was that you?" Ace asked, his eyes wide.

"No! Why would that be me?” [Name] whispered, hugging herself tightly.

"...neeevvvaaa... ...iiivvv... ...ooouuu..."

Why did [Name] let herself get tangled up in this mess? Would she even make it out alive in time for her first day tomorrow?!

"Sounds like... it's getting closer..."

"Stooonesss... Stooonesss aaare miiiiine!"

"There it is!" Yuuken pointed out the looming monster.

"What is that?!" Deuce’s eyes widened in horror.

"Myaaah! No one said there'd be monsters! Let’s get outta here!" Grim tugged on Yuuken’s pants, panic in his voice.

"That thing is super creepy! But didn’t it just mention something about 'stones'?!" Ace exclaimed.

"Stooonesss... ...nevvva give stooonesss...!" The monster swung at the group, its movements threatening.

"So there ARE still magestones here!" Deuce concluded, his eyes gleaming with determination.

"Myaaah... Even as a master sorcerer, I... I don't think I can take that thing down!" Grim admitted, his bravado fading.

"Are you really a master then?" [Name] couldn’t help but tease the cat, even in such dire circumstances.

"But we need a magestone or we’ll get expelled! I’m going in!" Deuce charged toward the monster, ignoring the warnings.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

"You can't do this alone!"

But Deuce brushed aside their concerns. "I won't be expelled! No matter what!"

"Get lost! Get lost! Get loooost!"

Deuce cried out as the creature lunged at him.

"Oh no! Loosey-Deucey is in trouble! Not on my watch! Heeyah!"

"Oof!" Ace hit the ground hard, wincing in pain as his muscles tensed.

From the sidelines, [Name] struggled to contain a laugh, watching the boys get tossed around like rag dolls.

"Myaaah! Keep away from me!" Grim raised his paws in sheer panic.

"GRRRAAAWWRR!" The monster let out a fearsome roar.

"It's like nothing even phases it!" Grim shouted in disbelief.

"Did you just see that sparkle?!" Yuuken exclaimed, staring past the monster at a glimmering rock.

"Look behind the monster! There's something shining in the mineshaft!" Ace said, pushing himself up from the floor.

"Could that be a magestone?!"

"GWAAAAAAAH! Nooo, I won't let you take the stooooone!" The monster attempted another strike. [Name] flinched, that attack almost hit her.

"Yuuken, we need to get out of here, and fast! That thing's going to turn us into tuna paste!" Grim pulled Yuuken by the sleeve.

"Retreat!Retreat! Retreat" Yuuken called out to the others.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

"This should be far enough, right?" Grim panted as he rolled onto his back.

"Owww... What was that thing? No one warned us about something like that!"

"That was definitely not your average ghost."

"Let’s just give up and go home. I'd gladly take the expulsion if it means I never have to face that thing again." Ace sighed, resigning himself to the idea of leaving NRC.

"What?! No way, that's not happening! I'd rather face death than get kicked out of Night Raven! How can you give up when the stone is right there?" Deuce shook his head vigorously, refusing to back down.

"Pfft. Easy for you to say, considering you’re not even half the mage I am. If you want that stone so badly, go get it yourself. I'm out." Ace turned to walk away, but Deuce shouted after him.

"Oh YEAH?! Fine, just run back to your little coop, you big chicken!" Deuce taunted, momentarily breaking character.

"Whaaaaat?! Who are you calling a chicken, huh?!" Ace shot back, crossing his arms and stepping closer to Deuce.

"Whoa, Deuce... Did you just, like, totally change personality there for a second?"

"Huh?! Sorry... I lost my temper for a moment." He cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed.

"So, what do we do now?" Yuuken squatted down, looking to the others for guidance.

"Can't you guys just blow that thing up with magic?" Grim directed his question at Ace and Deuce.

"Can't you do something magical yourself?" Yuuken asked Grim, raising an eyebrow.

"The headmage said it himself... magic has its limits. If you can't visualize your magic clearly, it's not going to work." Deuce explained to Yuuken and Grim. "Using magic on a larger scale or trying different kinds of magic requires training."

"Exactly, that's why magic academies exist. It takes a ton of practice before you can just snap your fingers and make your thoughts manifest as magic. And the more flustered you are, the more likely you are to mess things up." Ace added in.

"So that's why Grim can only summon fire," Yuuken said, taking a jab at Grim's ego.

"Hey! Just you wait! I'm gonna learn to use way cooler magic than that! I'm just getting started!" Grim shot back at Yuuken.

"Anyway, we need to come up with a plan to defeat that creature and grab the magestone," Deuce reminded everyone.

"Yeah, just like last time with the chandelier, right? You 'found a way,' and now look where we are. We just fought that thing and it wiped the floor with us. So what's your grand plan, genius? Because I definitely don't trust you to wing it!"

"What?! You're the one who—"

"And here we go again," Grim sighed, realizing this was going nowhere.

"So, I guess we should all just get expelled then," Yuuken shrugged, sounding indifferent.

"What?" Ace and Deuce exchanged bewildered glances, taken aback by Yuuken's sudden defeatist attitude.

"Whoa, that was a bit harsh. Where did that come from?" Grim's eyes widened at Yuuken's unexpected demeanor.

"Why not try working together for a change?" Yuuken suggested earnestly.

"With Loosey-Deucey? No way! He'd get me killed!" Ace shot back at Deuce, dismissing the idea.

"Like I'd enjoy teaming up with you?!" Deuce retorted.

"What if we actually came up with a solid plan first?" Yuuken proposed.

Ace clicked his tongue in annoyance. "A solid plan? Like some buddy system? Are you kidding? You always say the most ridiculous things with a straight face, [MC]."

"Agreed. There's no way I can work with him." The blue-haired boy shook his head defiantly.

"Yeah, but... getting expelled on the first day? That's pretty lame too. Maybe even lamer." Grim pointed out.

Ace stuttered, caught off guard by Grim's comment, "W-well..."

"Yeah, there's nothing cool about that!" the black-haired boy added.

"Ugh... Fine. Let's just get this over with. All right, Yuuken. What's the plan?" The orange-haired boy asked, sounding resigned.

"Yuuken… Is this plan of yours really going to work? I'm scared—I mean, I'm a little... uh, hungry," the cat confessed.

"Then let's brace ourselves for the worst," Yuuken said with a hint of pessimism.

"Heh heh. That's not exactly encouraging! Keep it loose and lively! Let's do this!" Ace declared, pumping his fist in determination and flashing his trademark smile.

"Wait! I feel like we’re forgetting something..." Deuce said, deep in thought.

"That monster really must have done a number on you," Ace chuckled.

"Whatever!" Deuce shot ahead of Ace, ready to take action.

What do you guys think they forgot in the mines???

#Twst #twst wonderland x reader #Twst x reader #Twisted Wonderland #tinkerbell!yuu✨#twisted wonderland x reader

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fratttymatty · 2 days ago

Text

All British American Boy

(All characters are 18+)

Matthew Hastings leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the airplane window, watching as the endless patchwork of green and brown fields below gave way to the sprawling suburban grid. He adjusted his glasses and ran a hand through his messy brown hair, feeling a knot of nerves tighten in his stomach. He had read every guidebook, watched countless YouTube videos, and even practiced a Midwestern accent as a joke, but nothing could prepare him for actually being here—America.

More specifically, the East Coast of California, a small town near the beach where he’d spend his gap year as an exchange student before university. For an 18-year-old British boy with a penchant for sci-fi novels, indie music, and political debates, it felt like stepping into a completely different world.

At the airport, Matthew’s host family greeted him with big smiles and even bigger hugs. The Bennetts were the epitome of California Americana: Todd, the jovial dad in a baseball cap; Lisa, the bubbly mom with a perpetual tray of cookies; and Chase, their athletic, all-smiles son who was also 18. Chase was a senior at the local high school and the starting quarterback of the football team.

“Matthew,” Lisa said brightly as they piled into the family’s SUV. “What a great name! So classic. So All-American!”

Matthew blinked. “Uh, thanks?”

Chase chuckled from the backseat, where he sat next to Matthew. “Yeah, bro, it’s perfect. You’re gonna fit right in.”

Matthew wasn’t so sure about that, but he forced a polite smile.

The first day at school was a blur of introductions and unfamiliar faces. Everyone seemed fascinated by his accent, asking him to say random words like “bottle” and “aluminium,” which felt strangely alien to Matthew, now that he was in a place where everyone had the same cadence and lingo. It wasn’t long before his name became a subject of constant discussion.

As Matthew walked into the school, he could feel eyes on him. Cheerleaders, jocks, and teachers alike seemed to zero in on him, exchanging knowing glances.

One of the cheerleaders, a blonde girl with a smile that could light up a room, grinned as she approached. “Matthew, huh? Your name sounds so... All-American,” she said, giggling. “You’re not secretly a football player, are you?”

Matthew blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, no, not really.”

“Pfft, I bet you could be,” she teased, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she walked off, still chuckling. “We need more guys like you on the team. You’d fit right in.”

As Matthew made his way through the crowded hallways, another guy—a tall jock in a varsity jacket—clapped him on the back as he passed. “Matthew, huh? Dude, that’s a name you can take to the bank. Like, you’re straight outta one of those All-American movies, right?”

Matthew managed a smile, but inside, he was still trying to make sense of it all. What did they mean? What was this weird association everyone seemed to have with his name?

“Yeah, man,” another guy, a friend of the first, added as they walked past, “you’re gonna be a star here. Football, maybe? You look like you belong on the field.”

Later that day, in history class, his new teacher, Mr. Henderson, remarked on his name with an enthusiastic grin. “Matthew. Now that’s a name I can get behind! Really sounds like the kind of guy who’d be representing the All-American spirit. You’re the pride of your country, huh?”

Matthew, unsure how to respond, simply nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Cool, cool,” Mr. Henderson said, adjusting his glasses. “You’re going to get along great here.”

During lunch, as Matthew stood in line, he overheard a conversation between a group of cheerleaders. They were talking about the new kid—him—and they couldn’t stop commenting on his name.

“That Matthew kid?” one of the cheerleaders said, flipping her hair. “Totally All-American. I swear, he looks like he just stepped out of a high school movie.”

“Right?” another cheerleader responded. “I bet he’s gonna be the next big thing here. He’s got the look. That strong jawline? Those cheekbones? Definitely jock material.”

Matthew froze mid-bite, his fork hovering in the air. Strong jawline? Cheekbones? He frowned and ran his tongue along his teeth. He’d never thought of himself as having any of those features. His jawline had always seemed weak and round, and his cheekbones were practically nonexistent. Had they mistaken him for someone else? He glanced around, wondering if they were talking about someone else. But no, they were definitely referring to him.

Later that afternoon, as he was leaving class, the principal—Mr. Gallagher, a tall man in his 50s with a firm handshake—stopped him in the hallway.

“Matthew,” Mr. Gallagher said with a smile, his voice warm but commanding. “I hear you’re fitting in well. It’s not every day we get a guy with such an All-American name. People around here are already talking about you. And I’ve gotta say, I think you’ll do great things at this school.”

Matthew blinked, feeling like the entire world was projecting some image onto him that he hadn’t asked for.

“Thanks, I guess?” he said hesitantly, unsure of how to respond.

“You’re welcome,” Mr. Gallagher said, still smiling broadly. “It’s good to have someone like you in our school. Now, go enjoy the rest of your day. You’re definitely going to fit right in.”

That evening, after dinner, as Matthew was settling in, Chase walked into his room with a mischievous grin and a bottle of cologne in hand.

“Alright, Matthew Hastings,” Chase said, leaning against the doorframe. “Time to complete your transformation.”

Matthew raised an eyebrow. “What are you on about?”

Chase stepped closer, unscrewing the cap of the cologne. “This is the secret ingredient. One spray of this, and you’re gonna be the perfect All-American boy.”

Matthew snorted. “Very funny.”

But before he could protest, Chase spritzed the cologne in his direction. The scent hit Matthew’s nose—strong, woodsy, and oddly intoxicating. He staggered back, his vision blurring.

“What the hell?” he mumbled, clutching his head as a strange warmth spread through his body. His glasses slipped from his face, and he blinked in confusion.

Matthew felt the change like a wave crashing over him. His clothes grew tighter, the fabric hugging new, broader muscles. His hands expanded, becoming larger and more defined. His spine straightened as his body seemed to bulk up, every inch of him transforming into a physical reflection of a guy who could play football, lift weights, and dominate any sports field.

But it was his hair that caught him off guard the most. The gelled, slightly messy brown hair he had always known as his was now slowly shifting. He could feel it growing, thickening, becoming wilder. His once-neat style unraveled, and it was replaced by a messy, dirty blonde wave that fell effortlessly into place, as if his hair had always been meant to look this way. His strands now had a natural tousled look, framing his face with an untamed, confident aura that screamed “California jock.”

He stumbled to the mirror, his heart racing. His reflection showed a tall, athletic figure with a strong jawline, perfect blonde hair that seemed to defy gravity, and bright blue eyes that gleamed with confidence. The nerdy, awkward British boy who had boarded the plane was nowhere to be found. In his place stood a tall, chiseled young man with a cocky smile and a powerful presence.

“Dude,” Chase said, clapping him on the back. “Looking good!”

Matthew turned to him, startled by the deep, American drawl that came out of his mouth. “What... what did you do to me?”

Chase shrugged. “Just helped you find your true self, bro.”

The following days passed in a blur of transformations—both external and internal. Matthew, now calling himself Matt Bennett, slid seamlessly into his new life. He joined the football team alongside Chase, becoming one of the star players almost immediately. His accent, his interests, even his political views began to shift. His love of indie music and intellectual debates slowly faded, replaced with a growing obsession for rap and R&B, the beats pounding through his headphones whenever he wasn’t on the field. He loved the swagger and confidence that came with it, the rhythms that felt so natural now, like they were a part of him all along.

His love of sci-fi novels seemed trivial now, a memory from another life. His sense of identity, too, morphed. The boy who had once questioned his sexual orientation—who had once enjoyed the company of both men and women—found himself suddenly, unmistakably attracted to women. In fact, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been with a guy. His attraction to men was now something distant and irrelevant, like a forgotten dream.

His new family felt like his real family. He called Todd and Lisa “Mom” and “Dad” without hesitation. And then there was Cassie, the bubbly cheerleader who became his girlfriend. With her blonde curls, wide smile, and endless use of words like “like” and “totes,” she was everything he never knew he wanted.

Chase noticed the change, of course. One day, while tossing a football back and forth, Chase shot him a sly grin. “You like the new you, right? You’re basically the ideal All-American man now. You’ve got the looks, the skills, the right political views, and, of course, the perfect girlfriend.”

Matt laughed, a confident, almost smug laugh. “Yeah, bro. I mean, it’s like I’ve always been this way, y’know? Girls, football... that’s all that matters. Oh, and, uh, conservative values, right?”

Chase slapped him on the back. “Hell yeah. If we all just stuck to our guns, everything would be perfect.” He paused, his grin widening. “Just like us.”

At school, Matt became a local legend. His name, now officially “Matt Bennett,” was on everyone’s lips. Teachers and classmates alike would remark on how “All-American” he looked. At the football games, Matt was cheered on as a hero. His life, once a tangled web of uncertainty and self-doubt, had been rewritten.

Now, he was Matt Bennett, the perfect All-American jock, and he couldn't imagine being anyone else.

One afternoon, as he walked hand-in-hand with Cassie through the school’s hallway, Chase slapped him on the back. “Told you, man. Brunettes are great, but blondes? That’s where it’s at.”

Matt laughed, his perfect white teeth gleaming. “You were right, bro.”

And as he leaned in to kiss Cassie, he didn’t think about the boy he had been before. Why would he? He was Matt Hastings now, the perfect All-American boy.

At school, Matt became a local legend. His name, now officially “Matt Bennett,” was on everyone’s lips. Teachers and classmates alike would remark on how “All-American” he looked. His new, muscular frame made him a standout, but it was his natural charisma and sharp athleticism that earned him respect.

“You know,” one of his classmates commented during lunch, “Matt Bennett... that name just screams All-American jock. It’s like something out of a movie.”

Another added, “Dude’s gotta be the most ‘jocky’ guy in school. I can already picture him playing pro football someday.”

The attention was flattering. He found himself slipping into the role effortlessly, becoming the guy everyone admired, the one who fit the mold perfectly.

But there was something else. It was in the way he now saw the world—through a lens of conservative ideals. Matt often found himself in debates with classmates, his new opinions solidifying as the days went on. He believed firmly in traditional gender roles, the importance of family values, and a strong distaste for liberal ideologies. The political conversations he had once enjoyed with his friends back in England seemed ridiculous now.

One day, during a lunch break, he and Chase found themselves talking about their political views.

“You know what’s messed up?” Matt said, taking a bite of his sandwich. “The way the country’s going. I mean, I don’t know how anyone could vote for those liberals. Everything’s just getting too soft.”

Chase nodded. “Exactly, man. It’s like people don’t want to stand up for what’s right anymore. We need to take America back. Make it great again.”

Matt chuckled. “I’m with you. It’s all about family, football, and freedom.”

Everything about Matt Bennett felt right now. His identity was clear, his life full of purpose, and every moment felt like an affirmation of his new self. He was exactly who he was supposed to be—perfectly All-American, living the life he had never even known he wanted.

And when he kissed Cassie, his blonde, bubbly cheerleader girlfriend, the world felt even more complete. He didn’t think about the boy he had been, the questions he had once asked himself. Why would he? He was Matt Bennett now—an All-American jock, straight as an arrow, and proud of it.

#male tf #male tf story #bi to straight #nerd to jock #conservative tf #lib to con #american tf

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 2 days ago

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i'm not gonna do a big year in review post like i did last year because on a strictly numerical level (a) i probably technically failed most of my resolutions and (b) i don't actually have the data because one of the ones i definitely failed was logging my habits to keep up, which i stopped doing in september when work got crazy and never picked back up. still ultimately i feel good about how things went down, generally. i didn't quite make this the year i got back into reading but i read more than i had the year before for sure, and i saw a lot of movies, most of them interesting or enjoyable, and some other art, too (the jenny holzer installation at the guggenheim, the ibsen play starring jeremy strong). i definitely listened to way more music. i got so good at hydrating by the end of the year that now i feel off if i drink less than 100 ounces a day lmao. i don't think i hit a 50% workout rate but i had a june that took working out off the map for several weeks and then when i tried to get back into it at the level i'd been doing before it sucked and i needed way more rest days for a long ass time; lesson learned for the future, and right now i feel like i have a good routine going. steps was kind of a similar story but this fall was pretty successful (having a zillion clients all over the goddamn city was helpful in that regard). i do want to be more proactive about it on a day to day basis because i do think it might help me sleep to hit that 10k or so (and i think it helps with soreness too, preventatively and amelioratively, which spellcheck says is not a word but should be!!) but i'm feeling more and more like flexibility is the name of the game in some things so while i will be tracking them daily/weekly/monthly this year, i will ultimately consider it a win if i get to december 31 with 3,650,000 behind me.

i fell off on logging and journaling, and never really got a handle on doing mobility work or meditating, but i finished the year feeling like while on the one hand it was nice to know i had enough structures in place to make it through my busy season a little on edge but never really losing my mind, i also felt like ignoring these things completely for a while ultimately as i look back drew my attention to why i wanted to make space for them in the first place; the morning routine stuff is where i get it together enough to check in on my life, process some stuff, and make adjustments as necessary; doing some kind of mobility stuff, even if it's just hitting the foam roller at bedtime, is just physically necessary if i want to keep working out the way i have been working out and i have to stop acting like i can have one without the other.

i decided for 2024 i didn't need to set a guideline around internet use the way i had in 2023, just an intention to be mindful, and, um, well that was a huge failure but an instructive one; again, lesson learned (and it's actually crazy how much even a guided 5 meditation in the morning alters my basic instincts for the rest of the day about when i want to Scroll). i didn't floss........ i should floss.

i did okay with doing Life Tasks semi-regularly and the attitude of "20 minutes Task Time per day" was helpful in some ways but didn't address the Giant Ever Growing Backlog Of Tasks I Have Been Putting Off For Months To Years, which suggests a need for a new approach; this year i'm gonna try a tip i read somewhere to plan out your tasks on a weekly basis, including scheduling them, not just throwing them on a "weekly to-do list," and aim for 5 a week. i gave up on 20 minutes of digital tidying per day and i think the answer there is just to not set a minimum above the minimum, so to speak. if i delete 5 emails or unsubscribe from 1 thing that counts.

i don't know how i wound up doing with my goal to have One Human Connection Per Day (At Least Half The Days Of The Year) but i had a lot of fun this year and i am finishing it feeling in many ways still awkward and neurotic but more connected and secure than i was a year ago, and feeling almost overwhelmed with how true it feels to say "my life is full of doing fun stuff with people i like" after all the years i spent convinced this was completely impossible for me to achieve. this year i don't think i'm going to slot this into my daily habits, partly because sometimes multiple things happen on one day or i text someone to initiate plans-making on the same day someone texts me, partly because the advice i saw about doing stuff also recommend task-batching and i think there may be some utility to that here as well, and partly because well i do have a schedule that is incredibly variable by week and season and this past fall for example i'm not sure i could have handled much more in september/october than free store + one fun thing a week which is more or less how it shook out for a while there. i also don't think i'm going to set a number because, well, i feel good about it right now. i do want to set a non-quantifiable intention to keep getting a little braver about forging new connections or deepening ones that are shallow but seem promising (serial killer way to say "making friends" sorry i am still in some ways quite Insane about this topic, the prime locus of my insanity for many years), and within that specifically to keep getting better at going to local stuff even when none of my closest local friends are going to be there as my security blanket lol. this year early on i finally texted someone i knew from pantry biz with whom i had exchanged mutual "we should hang out sometime" sentiments and it turns out that they're one of those people where once someone else makes the first move they welcome you in a lot so that the "hey, wanna catch a movie or something?" text i sent while deep breathing (because i am Insane) wound up leading pretty directly to a bunch of other incredibly fun 2024 memories, which is like almost irritatingly on the nose as a life lesson but otherwise very nice. relatedly (to texting that stresses me out because of my Problems) i want to get better at texting people back in a timely fashion and also at being more impulsive in a positive way about sending texts when people are on my mind.

the two things i feel real regret over this year are the reading thing and also writing... not a great year for writing, although i can at least look back on i would say three newsletters i'm proud of and one fic i was very glad to complete. i also did... okay... at contributing at the singles jukebox now that We're So Back on a monthly schedule. but i wrote basically nothing other than the occasional blurb after sometime in may and that feels bad and also suggests i need to find some way to integrate writing more reliably into my routine. i don't want to set a word count goal because part of what's going on is that i have some projects i'm picking away at that are more demanding of planning & brainstorming & slower more considered writing than my usual (beloved!) genres of Blogging and Fanfiction but i do think it needs to be quantifiable because ummm otherwise i simply will Not. so i am thinking this is a daily goal too. same goes for reading and in that case i do think i can set an outcome goal, which is 50 books.

ok well i guess this wound up being a year in review post anyway lmao. whatever it's capricorn season it's my time to shine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! neatened up resolutions post for my own ease of reference incoming shortly

#and a sunday sleepies post tonight #isabel 2k24 #isabel 2k25

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jenanigans1207 · 2 days ago

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1/4/25: Battle

Dean still remembers the way it always felt to look at Cas and have to battle with himself to leave it at that: just looking. He remembers the way his pulse would jump into his throat, the way his fingertips would tremble whenever he reached out for that ugly ass coat that meant everything to him.

He remembers holding his breath whenever Cas would heal him, just the simple touch from him enough to distract Dean from the pain entirely. It was never the feeling of the grace flowing through him that left him feeling lightheaded, it was the still lingering imprint of Cas’s hand that he could feel when he was laying in bed later that night. It was the electricity, the embers, the spark of so much more that was entirely unrelated to Cas’s angelic nature and completely and utterly because Cas was just Cas. He remembers all the times that he sat there and tried to force himself to stare at the tome in front of him, even when his mind was nothing but an endless loop of different ways he’d like to kiss Cas.

For a long time, he thought it would be something desperate, like pulling Cas into a kiss to make him understand that Dean doesn’t just need him to stay, but he wants him to stay, too. He thought it would be after Cas stupidly risked his life one too many times for Dean’s sake, thought it would be a way to tell Cas all the words that he needed to know but Dean couldn’t say. It started out as a message.

Then for awhile he entertained the idea of just pushing Cas up against the nearest surface— a wall, a door, pressed to the edge of the table in the war room— and kissing him stupid. He thought about the way Cas’s blue eyes would blow open, his lips parting in surprise just a moment before Dean leaned in to capture them. He thought about tangling his fingers in that mess of dark hair and not coming up for air until he absolutely had to. He thought about Cas’s hands and where they would go, and he would shiver at the phantom sensations from his own imagination. In reality and in his mind Cas was always warm enough to burn Dean down to the ground.

From there, the thoughts turned more into daydreams or fantasies, straying further and further from where they started. Dean would watch Cas eat a pb&j and think about kissing the jelly off the corner of his lip. They’d be in the Dean Cave watching a movie and Dean, on the verge of falling asleep even though it was a movie he’d selected, would think about pillowing his head on Cas’s shoulder and pressing a kiss to the edge of his jaw before promptly falling asleep.

And at that point, Dean just started fantasizing about everything— even the stupid, mundane, absolutely vanilla stuff that almost made his heart beat right out of his chest. Cas had asked him one time why his face was so red and Dean hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes for days. And the kicker is, at that moment when Cas had asked, Dean had just been staring at his hand and wondering what it would feel like to twine their fingers together.

Dean also remembers the day he lost the battle.

“Dean,” Cas had said cautiously one evening when it was just the two of them alone in the kitchen. Dean had abandoned the pretense of paying attention several minutes ago and was knee deep in his latest daydream, but the tone of Cas’s voice had caught his attention. “You are aware that I can sense… longing, aren’t you?”

Dean was vaguely aware of that, yes. Sort of remembered it being mentioned at some point in the past, but he couldn’t say that it had ever really stuck in the front of his mind.

He felt the color drain from his face. “Right.” He said as he glanced away. “Yeah.”

“Like right now.” Cas pressed gently, but his gaze was unwavering.

“Right now.” Dean had echoed. “You could— you could feel that?”

“Yes.” Cas confirmed. Dean wishes he’d had the guts to look up at that moment, to know the expression on Cas’s face when he dealt the final blow. But he’d been staring stubbornly at his own lap when Cas added, “and all the other times.”

“Okay.” Dean had blown out a breath but it hadn’t gotten rid of the restless feeling suddenly overtaking his limbs. “Okay.” He’d said again as he stood up. And then, “in that case, fuck it.”

And he had promptly turned to face Cas who was seated in the chair next to him for the entire exchange, leaning down to cup his jaw while the other hand pressed flat against the table to help him balance, and kissed him until he was certain that Cas couldn’t just sense the longing, but could taste it on his tongue.

From that moment on, Dean had never even had to battle with himself.

If he wanted to kiss Cas, he was sure as shit going to. If he wanted to hold Cas’s hand, he would, and he'd be more than content to use his free hand to knock out any asshole who dared look at them weird. Not that anyone did. The most dramatic response they’d gotten was Sam who had gotten close to honest-to-god real tears of relief when Dean had finally choked out the words.

Dean had punched him for that.

It had been weird for Dean after that, the way everything and nothing had changed. He thought about it a lot, too much, until Cas would kiss the thoughts right out of his head. And with encouragement like that, Dean learned to stop thinking like that at all.

Losing that battle was the greatest loss of Dean’s life because it gained him everything.

#this is my favorite one of these so far tbh #supernatural #spn #destiel #deancas #daily destiel drabble #daily drabble

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rose054687 · 12 hours ago

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Nct dream reaction when you sick

Pairing: nct dream x female!reader

Genre: fluff، relationship,Mention of sensitivity، Mention of illness and influenza.

Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any grammatical errors, because I sometimes use a translator in some sentences.

Mark Lee

It was one of those dreary days when the sky was overcast, and the rain pattered softly against the window. You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a thick blanket, feeling the weight of your sickness pressing down on you. Your head throbbed, and your throat felt raw, making every breath a reminder of your discomfort.

Just as you were about to drift off into a restless sleep, you heard the familiar sound of the front door creaking open. You looked up, squinting against the dim light, and saw Mark stepping inside, shaking off the rain from his jacket.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, concern etched on his face as he approached you.

You managed a weak smile. “Not really. Just feeling under the weather.”

Mark knelt down beside the couch, his brow furrowing. “You should’ve told me you weren’t feeling well. I would’ve come over sooner.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He frowned, brushing a few strands of hair from your forehead. “You know I worry about you. Let me take care of you.”

With that, he stood up and headed to the kitchen. You could hear him rummaging through the cabinets. A few moments later, he returned with a steaming mug of tea and a plate of crackers.

“Here, this should help,” he said, handing you the mug.

You took a sip, the warmth spreading through you, and sighed. “Thanks, Mark. You really didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

“Of course, I did. You’re my favorite person,” he said, settling down on the edge of the couch. “Now, tell me what you need. More blankets? A movie? A foot rub?”

You chuckled softly, feeling a little better just from his presence. “A movie sounds nice.”

“Alright, let’s pick something. But first, you need to eat something,” he insisted, nudging the plate closer to you.

As you nibbled on the crackers, Mark leaned back, scrolling through the movies on his phone. “How about a classic? Something light to cheer you up?”

“Sure, but only if you promise to stay and watch it with me,” you replied, looking at him with hopeful eyes.

“Deal,” he said, a smile breaking through his earlier worry. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone while you’re sick.”

With the movie playing softly in the background, you leaned against him, feeling the warmth of his body next to yours. As the story unfolded on the screen, you could hear Mark’s occasional chuckle, and it made you feel a little lighter despite the heaviness of your illness.

“See? Not so bad, right?” he whispered, glancing down at you.

“Yeah, it’s nice having you here,” you admitted, closing your eyes for a moment.

As the hours passed, the rain continued to fall outside, but inside, you felt a sense of comfort and safety. Mark’s presence made everything feel a little less daunting, and you knew that with him by your side, you could face anything—even being sick.

Huang Renjun

You found yourself curled up in bed, feeling under the weather. Your head throbbed, and your throat felt like sandpaper. It was the day before your big exam, and the pressure was mounting. You knew you needed to study, but the thought of facing the textbooks made you feel even more exhausted.

As you lay there, wrapped in your warm blankets, your phone buzzed beside you. It was Renjun, your caring boyfriend, checking in. "Hey, how are you feeling? I was thinking about you," he texted, his concern evident even through the screen.

You smiled weakly, typing back, "Not great, honestly. I’m worried about the exam tomorrow. I can’t focus like this."

Renjun, always the supportive partner, quickly replied, "I’ll come over and help you study. We can make it fun! Just rest for now."

A short while later, you heard a soft knock on your door. You struggled to get up, but the moment you opened the door, Renjun’s warm smile made everything feel a little better. He walked in, carrying a bag filled with snacks and your favorite study materials.

"Got you some tea and snacks," he said, setting everything on your desk. "I thought we could study together. I’ll make sure you don’t stress too much."

"Thanks, Renjun," you said, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. "I really appreciate it. I just hope I can remember everything."

As you both settled down, Renjun began quizzing you on the material. His voice was calm and encouraging, making the daunting subjects seem a little less intimidating. "Okay, let’s start with the key concepts. What’s the main idea behind this chapter?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with determination.

You took a deep breath, trying to focus. "Um, it’s about... the impact of social media on communication," you replied, your voice a bit shaky.

"Exactly!" Renjun beamed, and it made your heart flutter. "And how does it change the way we interact with each other?"

You felt a spark of energy from his enthusiasm. "It creates distance but also connects us in ways we didn’t have before," you answered, feeling more confident.

As the study session continued, Renjun made sure to take breaks, encouraging you to drink your tea and eat some snacks. "You need to take care of yourself too," he reminded you gently, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Your health is more important than any exam."

You couldn’t help but smile at his caring nature. "You’re right. I just want to do well."

"I know you will," he said, leaning closer. "Just remember, you’re amazing, and I’m proud of you no matter what."

The warmth of his words wrapped around you like a cozy blanket. You felt a sense of comfort knowing he was by your side, supporting you through this stressful time. As the evening wore on, you both studied and laughed, sharing little moments that made the stress of the exam fade away.

When it was finally time to call it a night, Renjun helped you tidy up the study area. "Get some rest, okay? I’ll be here in the morning to walk you to the exam. You’ve got this," he said, giving you a reassuring hug.

You nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and affection. "Thanks for everything, Renjun. I don’t know what I’d do without you."

With a final wave, he left, and you settled into bed, feeling a little better. You closed your eyes, knowing that with Renjun’s support, you could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Lee Jeno

As the rain poured down in heavy sheets, you hurried out of the office, clutching your umbrella tightly. The dim light of the streetlamps flickered in the stormy weather, casting a soft glow on the pavement. You had stayed late to finish up a project, and now you were regretting every minute of it. Just as you stepped outside, a gust of wind sent a chill through your body, and you sighed, realizing that your umbrella was barely holding up against the relentless downpour.

You quickly texted Jeno, hoping he would respond before you reached home. "Hey, I’m on my way but it’s pouring! I might be a bit late," you typed, your fingers shivering slightly as you pressed send. The thought of curling up on the couch with him made the miserable weather a little more bearable.

Finally, you arrived at your apartment, drenched and shivering. You fumbled with the keys, your hands slick with water, and finally managed to unlock the door. As soon as you stepped inside, the warmth enveloped you, but the chill from the rain clung to your skin. You tossed your wet coat aside and headed to the bathroom to change.

Just as you were about to pull on some dry clothes, your phone buzzed. It was Jeno. "Are you okay? I saw the weather report. Do you need me to come over?" His concern made your heart flutter, and you smiled despite your discomfort.

"Yeah, I’m okay! Just a bit wet. I’ll be fine," you replied, knowing full well you were anything but fine. The cold was starting to seep into your bones, and you could feel the beginnings of a sore throat.

A few minutes later, you heard a soft knock on the door. You opened it to find Jeno standing there, drenched from head to toe, his hair sticking to his forehead. His eyes widened in concern as he took in your appearance. "You look like you just walked through a monsoon," he said, stepping inside and shaking off like a wet dog.

"I could say the same about you," you laughed, but the sound turned into a cough. Jeno’s expression shifted instantly, and he stepped closer, placing a hand on your forehead. "You’re cold! You should’ve told me you were feeling unwell. Come here," he said, leading you to the couch.

He grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders, his warmth radiating against your skin. "You should have let me know you were leaving work late. I would have come to pick you up," he said, his voice soft but laced with a hint of worry.

"I didn’t think it would rain this hard," you admitted, leaning into him as he settled beside you. "But I’m really glad you’re here now."

Jeno smiled softly, brushing a damp strand of hair behind your ear. "Let me take care of you," he said, getting up to prepare some tea. You watched him move around the kitchen, his usual grace evident even in the chaos of the storm.

When he returned with a steaming cup, he handed it to you, his fingers lingering on yours. "Drink this. It’ll help warm you up," he instructed gently. You took a sip, feeling the heat spread through you.

As you settled back against the cushions, Jeno wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. "You’re going to rest, right? No work tonight," he said firmly, and you nodded, feeling comforted by his presence.

"You always know how to make me feel better," you whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"That’s my job," he replied with a soft chuckle, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Now, tell me what you want to do. We can binge-watch that show you love or just talk. Whatever you need."

With Jeno by your side, the storm outside felt less daunting, and you knew that no matter how sick you felt, you were exactly where you wanted to be.

Lee Haechan

In a cozy little apartment, you found yourself lovingly caring for Haechan, who had been struck down by a nasty cold. The days were filled with warm soup, soft blankets, and his favorite movies playing in the background. You had always been there for him, nurturing him back to health, despite your busy schedules and the demands of being idols.

As you sat by his side, you could see the fatigue etched on his face, but also the gratitude in his eyes. "You really don’t have to take care of me like this," he murmured, his voice hoarse yet filled with warmth.

"I want to," you replied softly, brushing a stray hair from his forehead. "You always take care of me. It’s my turn."

Days passed, and Haechan slowly recovered, the sparkle returning to his eyes. Yet, just as he was getting better, you felt a tickle in your throat. You brushed it off, thinking it was just fatigue from taking care of him. But soon, that tickle turned into a full-blown sore throat, and before you knew it, you were the one sniffling and sneezing.

Haechan noticed right away. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice as he sat up, his previous illness forgotten.

“I’m fine,” you lied, trying to muster a smile. “Just a little tired.”

But he wasn’t convinced. “You’ve been taking care of me. Now it’s my turn to take care of you,” he insisted, his expression serious.

You chuckled weakly. “You just got better. I can manage.”

Haechan shook his head, determination shining in his eyes. “No way. You’re not getting out of this one. I’ll make you soup, and you can just relax.”

With a sigh, you relented, knowing how stubborn he could be. “Alright, but only if you promise to rest too.”

As he moved to the kitchen, you settled back on the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket. You could hear the clattering of pots and pans, and a smile crept onto your face despite your discomfort. Haechan had a knack for making even the simplest things feel special.

When he returned, he held a steaming bowl of soup in one hand and a glass of orange juice in the other. “Here you go, my nurse,” he said with a playful grin, handing you the soup.

“Thanks, Haechan,” you said, taking a sip. The warmth spread through you, and for a moment, you forgot about your illness.

As you ate, Haechan settled beside you, his presence comforting. “You know, I really appreciate everything you do for me,” he said, his tone serious. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You felt your heart swell at his words. “You’d be just fine. You’re strong.”

“Maybe, but I’d be a lot lonelier,” he replied, nudging you lightly with his shoulder.

With the soup finished, you leaned back against him, your eyes growing heavy. “I think I’m going to take a nap,” you murmured.

“Alright, but I’ll be here when you wake up,” he promised, wrapping an arm around you protectively.

As you drifted off, you felt a sense of safety and love enveloping you. Even in sickness, you knew that together, you could face anything.

Hours later, you woke to find Haechan still beside you, a blanket draped over your legs. He was asleep, his face peaceful. You smiled softly, feeling grateful for him. Just then, he stirred, opening his eyes to meet yours.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he said, his voice still a little raspy. “How do you feel?”

“Better, I think,” you replied, stretching slightly. “Thanks to you.”

He grinned, the familiar sparkle returning to his eyes. “Good. Now, how about we watch a movie together? I’ll even let you pick this time.”

You laughed, feeling the warmth of his affection. “Deal. But only if you promise to keep your germs to yourself.”

“Cross my heart,” he said, making an exaggerated gesture.

As the movie played on, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. You were together, and that was all that mattered. Even in the toughest times, love had a way of healing.

In that moment, surrounded by warmth, laughter, and the comfort of each other’s presence, you knew you would always take care of one another, no matter what life threw your way.

Na Jaemin

As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room, you stirred awake, feeling a heaviness in your chest and a dull ache in your head. Blinking against the light, you turned to your side and saw Jaemin sleeping peacefully next to you, his features relaxed and serene, a small smile playing on his lips even in slumber. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, but as you shifted slightly, a wave of dizziness washed over you.

"Ugh," you groaned softly, bringing a hand to your forehead. It felt warm, and a sense of dread settled over you. You had been feeling off for a couple of days, but you had hoped it was just fatigue. Now, it seemed like it was more than that.

Jaemin stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he noticed your discomfort. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep but laced with concern. He propped himself up on one elbow, studying you closely.

You managed a weak smile, "I think I might be coming down with something."

His expression shifted from sleepy to worried in an instant. "Why didn’t you tell me sooner? You should have stayed in bed," he said, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. His hand felt cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body.

"I didn’t want to worry you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jaemin frowned, clearly not satisfied with your answer. "You know I’d rather take care of you than have you suffer in silence. Let me get you some water and medicine," he insisted, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up.

You watched as he hurried to the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the silence. You felt a mix of gratitude and guilt. Jaemin always put you first, and while you appreciated his care, you wished you could be the one taking care of him instead.

When he returned, he handed you a glass of water and a couple of pills. "Here, take these. You need to rest," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. You took the medicine, swallowing it down with a few sips of water.

"Thanks, Jaemin," you said, your voice a little stronger now.

He settled back next to you, pulling the covers up around your shoulders. "You need to stay warm. I’ll be right here with you," he promised, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. "I’m sorry for ruining our weekend," you murmured, guilt creeping back in.

"Don’t say that," he replied firmly. "I’d rather be here with you than anywhere else. We can binge-watch our favorite shows or just sleep. Whatever you need."

You smiled softly, comforted by his words. "Maybe a little bit of both?"

"Deal," he said, a playful grin breaking through his earlier worry. He reached for the remote, flipping through channels until he found a familiar show that always made you laugh.

As the episode played, you felt yourself relax, the sound of Jaemin’s laughter mixing with the show’s humor. You snuggled deeper into his embrace, allowing the warmth of his presence to soothe your discomfort.

"Promise me you’ll let me know if you feel worse," he said after a while, his voice serious again.

You nodded, feeling reassured by his concern. "I promise."

Hours passed, and you drifted in and out of sleep, Jaemin’s gentle voice narrating the storylines and his laughter filling the room. It was a comforting lullaby, and despite your illness, you felt a sense of peace wash over you.

As the day wore on, you realized that being sick wasn’t so bad when you had someone like Jaemin by your side, ready to take care of you. You felt grateful for his love and support, knowing that together, you could face anything—even a little cold.

Zhong Chenle

You sitting at the kitchen table, watching Chenle as he enthusiastically prepared dinner. His cheerful demeanor and infectious smile always had a way of lighting up your day. Tonight, he was trying his hand at a new recipe he had seen online, a spicy stir-fry that he promised would be delicious.

“Are you ready for this?” Chenle asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’ve added a secret ingredient that will blow your mind!”

You chuckled, “Just make sure it’s not too spicy for me, okay? You know my taste buds can’t handle too much heat.”

“Don’t worry! I’ve got it all under control,” he assured you, stirring the pan with a flourish.

As you watched him cook, you couldn’t help but admire his passion for food. He was always experimenting, and while you loved his adventurous spirit, you also knew he had a tendency to go overboard sometimes. The vibrant colors of the vegetables and the sizzle of the meat filled the air with an enticing scent.

After a while, dinner was served, and you sat down together at the table, the delicious dish in front of you. It looked amazing, and the aroma was mouthwatering. Chenle watched you expectantly as you took your first bite.

“Wow, this is really good!” you exclaimed, trying to hide your hesitation. The flavor was intense, and while you enjoyed it, you couldn’t shake off a slight tingling sensation in your mouth.

“Really? You mean it?” he beamed, clearly proud of his culinary skills.

“Yeah, just a little spicy, but I like it!” you replied, forcing a smile.

You continued to eat, but soon you started feeling uneasy. Your throat felt scratchy, and your stomach churned. You tried to brush it off, thinking it was just a reaction to the spice. But as the minutes passed, the discomfort grew.

“Are you okay?” Chenle asked, concern etched on his face. “You look a bit pale.”

“I’m fine, just a little… spicy,” you managed to say, but deep down, you knew something was off.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit you, and you rushed to the bathroom. As you leaned over the sink, you could feel your heart racing. It wasn’t just the spice; you realized that you must have reacted to something in the dish, something you hadn’t anticipated.

“Y/N! What’s wrong?” Chenle called from the other side of the door, his voice laced with worry.

“I’m not feeling well!” you shouted back, trying to steady your breathing. “I think I’m allergic to something in the food!”

Moments later, he burst through the door, his face a mixture of panic and concern. “What did I do? What’s happening?”

“I don’t know! I think there might have been something in the dish that I’m allergic to,” you said, your voice shaky. “I should have checked the ingredients more carefully.”

Chenle quickly helped you to the couch, his hands gentle as he guided you down. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you sick. What can I do to help?”

“Just stay with me,” you whispered, feeling weak. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

He nodded, sitting beside you and holding your hand tightly. “I’m right here. We’ll get through this together.”

As the minutes turned into hours, you felt Chenle’s presence comforting you. He brought you water and even tried to distract you with stories about his day, but your body was still fighting against the allergic reaction. You could see the worry in his eyes, and it broke your heart to know that you were the cause of his distress.

“Y/N, I can’t believe I didn’t think about your allergies,” he said, guilt heavy in his voice. “I should have asked you about everything I put in the stir-fry.”

“It’s okay, Chenle. I should have been more careful too,” you replied softly, squeezing his hand. “I know you were just trying to make something special for us.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I just wanted to impress you. You mean so much to me, and I thought this would be a fun surprise.”

You smiled weakly, touched by his words. “It was a nice thought, and I appreciate the effort. Just… next time, let’s cook together, okay?”

“Deal,” he said, a small smile breaking through his worry. “But for now, let’s focus on getting you better.”

As the night wore on, Chenle stayed by your side, making sure you were comfortable. He wrapped a blanket around you and even put on your favorite movie to help take your mind off the discomfort. His soothing voice and gentle touch made you feel safe.

Park Jisung

You and Jisung decided to embrace the winter wonderland. The sun peeked through the clouds, casting a soft glow on the glistening snowflakes that danced in the air. You bundled up in your warmest coat, a fluffy scarf wrapped snugly around your neck, and a knitted beanie perched on your head. Jisung, with his playful spirit, was already outside, throwing snowballs and laughing as he challenged you to join him.

"Come on! You can't just stand there!" he called, his breath visible in the cold air. His cheeks were flushed from the chill, but his smile was warm and inviting.

With a playful grin, you dashed outside, feeling the crunch of snow beneath your boots. You quickly engaged in a snowball fight, your laughter echoing through the crisp winter air. Jisung's competitive nature shone as he dodged your throws, retaliating with perfectly aimed snowballs that hit you right on target. The two of you rolled around in the snow, making snow angels and building a snowman that ended up looking more like a snow blob, but you both loved it nonetheless.

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, you both decided to head back inside. The cold had seeped into your bones, but you felt exhilarated from the day’s fun. However, you didn’t realize that your excitement had come at a cost. The next morning, you woke up with a scratchy throat and a pounding headache.

"Y/N! Are you okay?" Jisung's voice was filled with concern as he entered your room, his eyes wide with worry.

"I think I might have caught a cold," you replied, trying to muster a smile despite feeling miserable.

Jisung immediately rushed to your side, sitting on the edge of your bed. "You should have told me to stop playing in the snow! I knew it was too cold!"

You chuckled softly, despite the discomfort. "It was worth it, though. I had so much fun with you."

He sighed, brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead. "You need to rest. I’ll take care of you." His determination was evident, and it warmed your heart even in your weakened state.

Jisung made his way to the kitchen, where he prepared a warm bowl of chicken soup. The aroma filled the room, making your stomach rumble even though you didn’t feel like eating. He returned with the steaming bowl, placing it on your bedside table.

"Here, eat this. It’ll help you feel better," he insisted, handing you a spoon.

You took a small sip, the warmth spreading through you. "Thank you, Jisung. You’re the best."

As you ate, he settled beside you, pulling out his phone. "Let’s watch a movie while you rest. Something funny to cheer you up?"

You nodded, grateful for his presence. He scrolled through options, finally settling on a light-hearted comedy. As the movie played, you found comfort in Jisung’s laughter, his joy infectious even in your state.

"Hey, Y/N," he said during a particularly funny scene, "promise me you won’t go out in the snow without a proper jacket next time?"

You laughed softly, "I promise, as long as you promise to join me."

His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Deal! But only if you’re feeling better."

As the movie continued, you felt your eyelids growing heavy. Jisung noticed and gently nudged you. "Hey, don’t fall asleep on me yet! I want to make sure you’re okay."

"I’m just resting my eyes," you murmured, but the warmth and comfort of his presence lulled you into a peaceful sleep.

Hours later, you awoke to find Jisung still by your side, a blanket draped over you. He was watching you with a soft smile, his fingers gently brushing your hair back. "You scared me there for a moment. I thought you wouldn’t wake up."

You smiled weakly. "I’m sorry for worrying you."

He shook his head, leaning closer. "You’re worth the worry, Y/N. Just promise me you’ll take better care of yourself."

"I will," you promised, feeling grateful for his unwavering support.

As the days passed, Jisung remained by your side, making sure you had everything you needed. He brought you soup, kept you entertained with stories, and even read to you from your favorite books. Each moment spent together strengthened your bond, reminding you how lucky you were to have him.

Finally, after a few days of rest, you began to feel like yourself again. Jisung’s unwavering care had worked wonders, and you were ready to step back into the world, albeit with a newfound appreciation for warm jackets and cozy blankets.

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street-corner-felines · 6 months ago

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youtube

Zero Day Director commentary - With actor Andre Keuck

#movies #film #cinema #Damn I wish Cal was here #Andre and Ben are really interesting to listen to #This movie is one of those movies where it needs like 3 commentaries #It needs one with just Ben Coccio by himself #then one with Cal and Andre by themselves #then another with all 3 of them #Not all movies do that but I love when studios/filmmakers have multiple commentaries to create a sense of thorough intimacy #due to the nature of how commentaries are set up they can be quite restrictive/pressing/limited with no pauses or rewinds.#so I find cast/crew don't have enough time or able to present how they would like to if they could edit/rewind or pause for fluent presenta #So I love when they have director commentaries and actor commentaries or composer commentaries #Platoon's dvd extras are so dope they got multiple commentaries and one with military adviser Dale Dye who was a RL vietnam vet #Or Hostel's commentaries where one is just Eli Roth and another is Tarantino and Eli Roth with Scott Spiegal #idk if Zero Day ever got a blu-ray release but I think it should but the DV technology of the camera is kinda at it's limit of resolution #but an AI upscaling with 20 years later retrospective with Ben Cal and Andre would be sooo dope along with updated commentaries #Every few years I always rewatch Zero Day so that time has come that last few days lol #Ever since Columbine as a lil kid I have always been into spree-murders and active shooter incidents #I remember reading a peer-reviewed paper called Pseudo-Commandos #And Eric and Dylan and Andre and Cal would be dubbed Pseudo-Commandos where they dress up in a semi-military fashion #and have a delusion of superiority mixed with perceived sense of persecution whether it's true or not #it went into the Postal shooter from the 80s as well and what he went through along #plus I read another book called Going Postal which also went into postal shootings along with school shootings #I want to make a film about spree murders or an active shooter/s but I remember just getting so tired of the subject matter #because every 3 weeks there was some new shooter in the headlines and I found myself not wanting to be exploitative #When I write/direct my film I'd like it to address and study the character of such an individual but not try to be too political #or exploitative and focus on the ambiguities that are left behind when someone does this #as a society I noticed we stopped asking the questions on why and stopped having constructive conversations #it feels like as a coping mechanism we've started treating them like tornados or natural disasters

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thetriangletattoo · 5 months ago

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today my nephew asked me what an mp3 reader is I finally understand my elders

#stuff like this happens all the time #every time we talk i realise that we're growing up in two completely different times #also he moves through apps #every time i mention something a website or some other thing you can find online #he asks what app is that #and I'm like baby no #the world is not made of apps #apps in the way they exist today are younger than you #or all the streaming platforms #i looked for a (definitly legal) movie in front of him the other day and i played it to check the quality #because him and his mom wanted to watch it and couldn't find it #and all he said was On what platform did you find it #i was like I'm gonna tell you a story #✨the story of internet in the early 2000✨#listen we grew up with internet meaning that the internet has grown with us which means that we know it #we know how to be safe on it we know what to do and what not to do we understand when something is real and when something is not #the problem with all these new generations is that yes they know how to use a phone since year one but in reality they have no idea about #the internet they have no idea about what they hold in their hands they have no idea about what they can do with it #what the hell they don't even know how to access the internet #they don't know websites they don't know every app is actually a website #the same nephew once turned on a computer and was so lost and disappointed he asked me #is there YouTube on this thing?#my child! you have the world at your hands and you're asking me if there is youtube in it #and yes of course he's a child he need to be thought stuff abd you're right #but also not if it makes sense #at least in my experience i was left completely alone on the internet and yes i was probably watched at a distance from my older siblings #but i was given the space and time to explore it at some point i had my very own computer i was on socials at a very young age #most of the people my own age where #and we were way more responsible with it #idk where am i going with this i don't really have a point

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theoldaeroplane · 2 years ago

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I need things to stop HAPPENING

#nothing's wrong i just seem unable to catch my breath #i work for eight hours and then i have something almost every night when i get home #movie nights or social nights or volunteering nights or nights where i just can't do anything because i had therapy that day #don't get me started on weekends #i volunteer for 2-4 hours on Saturday mornings and i have hangouts on Saturday afternoons and DND on Sundays #and that's without counting any of the many variable things that i may attend on a Saturday #pride is this weekend and don't get me wrong I'm really looking forward to going #but i need like 3 days where i sit in my house and no one asks me to go anywhere #i want to make as many of the volunteer things as i can bc it only happens for about 18 weeks out of the year and there's only 12 left #what about Thursday and Friday you ask? Thursday is also volunteering #because that is when the miniature horses have their classes and what am i supposed to do? NOT go help with miniature horses???#fridays are usually clear except for the occasional hangout #i don't know why i can't seem to keep a balance in my life #es dificil #anyway i have to leave for work thirty minutes early today so i can make it to the barn in time to get the minis ready #yesterday i had to leave two hours early because i had an anxiety attack that lasted well over two hours and persisted through a nap #where is the balance.... i enjoy doing all these things... but my energy doesn't....#anyway i need a rich person to decide I'm entertaining and sponsor me so i only have to work part time and i can do my funny little arts #that seems realistic right?

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ethanhuntfemmefatale · 1 year ago

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the thing about the ethan + ilsa fight scene to me is it reminds me so strongly of his physical intimacy with his team from mi1.

#i would argue that we really haven't seen him get back to that in the whole franchise until that scene #so much of mi5 deals in ethan very carefully putting distance between himself and the people he cares about #and it's pretty insane for all that to culminate in a scene where he and ilsa are communicating through physicality and touch alone.#and it works!!!!!#i really need to go through all the movies one of these days and make a comprehensive ethan hunt touch log. for the autism #mission impossible #mi5 rewatch

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rustinged · 2 years ago

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i sincerely hope this is what my future looks like

#how does one make a shrine to all that is femme #maybe i should get a small jewelry dresser or something to make a femme shrine #looking through my 2b tag (what i want to look like/what i view myself as) makes me equally as happy as it does to look at the femme stuff #have saved on etsy #ive been having a gender freak out all day. i think i got too serious about it again + my hair is too long #i think to me like.. do you know those characters in movies where they're big buff dudes but the things they like are femme and seemingly #out of character. thats a big inspiration for me and how i view myself but i just don't necessarily look like it #i think serving to an audience that doesn't know you is exhausting. going outside feels like im reintroducing a character every time #when really im just some guy dyke and need to chill but yknow~ its hard #anyways that's enough personal thoughts

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lostfracturess · 2 months ago

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words you couldn't hear — satoru gojo

satoru's been hopelessly in love with you for years, but can only confess when you can't hear him. but someday—maybe someday soon—he'll tell you for real.

"How do these look?" you ask, slipping on a pair of noise-canceling headphones and striking a pose. "Be honest."

Satoru, who's been trailing behind you in the electronics store for the past hour without complaining like the best friend he's always been, looks up from the speaker he's been fiddling with. "You look good in anything."

"No, for real." You turn to check your reflection in a nearby screen. "Do they make my head look bigger? I feel like they make my head look bigger."

He snorts, reaching over to adjust the headband. His fingers brush against your temple, and you try not to think about how many times those same hands have absentmindedly played with your hair during movie nights, or how he still unconsciously reaches for you whenever he laughs too hard, just like he did when you were kids.

"That's what you're concerned about? The size of your head?"

"It's a valid concern."

"Your head is perfectly normal-sized," he assures you, his fingers lingering perhaps a moment too long as he fixes the fit. "Though I suppose all that overthinking has to go somewhere—"

You shoot him a look, but there's no heat behind it. Fifteen years of friendship has made you immune to his teasing — well, mostly immune.

You're not quite immune to the way your pulse quickens when he's standing this close, or how he still smells like that same cologne he's worn since high school, the one you helped him pick out for his first date with someone else while ignoring the weird ache in your chest.

"I really need good ones for studying," you say, checking the price tag. "My roommate talks way too much."

Satoru winces at the price. "Expensive. But they're supposedly the best."

"Worth every penny if they can block out her ramblings." You adjust the fit, immediately noticing how they muffle the noise of the shop. "Oh wow, these are actually incredible. Say something so I can test them properly."

"What should I say?"

You arch an eyebrow at him. "Anything. Just need to check if they work."

His expression shifts then, melting into something tender as his lips move. Even though you can't hear the words, something about the gentle way he's looking at you makes your heart flutter strangely in your chest.

"These are perfect!" you say, pulling them off, trying to ignore the way your pulse has picked up. "I couldn't hear you at all. What did you say?"

Satoru leans against the display counter, chin propped in his hand as he watches you fiddle with the headphone cord, a fond smile playing at his lips. "Nothing really," he murmurs, but there's something soft in his expression, something unguarded that makes your heart skip.

You pause, catching the way he's looking at you — like you're something precious, something more than just his best friend of fifteen years. "Satoru?" you say softly.

He seems to catch himself then, straightening abruptly as a flush creeps up his neck. "Ah, yes. Should we, uh." His voice comes out slightly strangled. "Should we get these paid for? Before they close?"

"The store closes in two hours."

"Better safe than sorry." He's already heading for the checkout, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste.

What you don't know — what you couldn't hear through those noise-canceling headphones — were three words he's been trying to say for years. Three words that slipped out so easily when he knew you couldn't hear them, when the safety of silence gave him the courage he's never had before.

"I love you."

Simple. Honest. Everything he's wanted to tell you since he was seventeen and realized his best friend was the love of his life. Everything he's been too afraid to say, too afraid to risk losing you.

But for now, those words remain caught in the space between silence and sound, in the safety of a moment you couldn't hear. Maybe one day he'll find the courage to say them again, when you can actually hear him.

Maybe one day soon.

#jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo headcanons #soft satoru gojo #satoru gojo fluff

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chobunz · 4 months ago

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── “ something new ” ( lhs ) 📌

๑ You and your boyfriend try face riding for the first time ever, his new #favorite position from now on.

pair: jock!heeseung ㅊ thick gf!reader | warnings: smut, dry grinding, face sitting, shaking, spanking, praise, quick death jokes, heeseung admiring you to the core, trying new things, worried reader, thirsty heeseung ftw, use of safe word | words: 918

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“fuck..” heeseung groaned, feeling your core grind on top of his clothed erect. ‘netflix and chill’, yeah it's cliché and all but it gets the sex drive going. the two of you were watching *** (show/movie name) cuddled up in bed together. you finally had the day off and what better way to spend it than with your precious, handsome boyfriend? always 100% a good time. guaranteed.

“mmh.. ‘m so wet baby.” you moaned against his mouth, if anything, after you finished you wanted his lips to be bruised, you wanted everyone to know that he had more than what he needed, you knew your worth. “you make me so wet…”

watching you ride him always struck a line in him. he was always wanting to try new things with you in the bedroom. you two have been through a series of ‘never do agains’ ‘once in a whiles’ and ‘fucking greats’, position wise. though, you were always a riding type of girl, you loved how you could feel every inch of him and even have control of him when you’re on top.

“wan’ you to ride my face this time, princess.” he breathed out as you pull away, gently caressing your skin. his hands travelled the curves of your body, all the way down to the hem of your shorts. tugging them down past your thighs.

you tip off of him to take your shorts off fully, feeling him smack your ass as in indicator to do so. “ride your face ?..” you questioned. you weren’t really sure how to ride someone’s face as you’ve never tried it before, sitting back down on his waist.

he hummed at your shyness, pulling your bottom up to his chest. “you don’ want to ?” “we don’ gotta...” he lazily spoke, not wanting you to feel pressured at all.

“no, no. i mean.. i’m definitely down. i just don’t wanna kill you..” you couldn’t help but worry, you worried about if he’d be able to breathe properly while you sat on his pretty face.

“no baby, i’d live just to die from this pussy. kill me.” he joked kissing your thigh. “wan’ you to suffocate me..” his eyes found yours biting his lip. his sight dripped from your eyes, to your lips, then your boobs, and all the way down to your wetness. he could feel the heat from your core on his bare skin.

you felt so lucky to have someone who constantly praised and worshipped you. he made you feel like a queen, which he so rightfully believed you were one. maybe even a lost princess, ready to claim the throne as yours.

and let’s not lie, you certainly did find one. which looked something like heeseung’s lap— and his face pretty soon.

๑ ๑ ๑

“heeseu.. heeseung !” your hands tugged at the strands of his hair as he licked your slate clean. you were constantly whining. your moans singing a beautiful song to heeseung’s ears.

everytime you found yourself lifting up from his mouth you felt him forcefully pulling you back down. devouring you like a lion to it’s prey. hearing him groan an ‘uhnuhn’ whenever you’d try and lighten the weight you put on his head.

his tongue entered you from time to time, stroking the side of your walls with perfection. “baby, kiwi..” you cried, patting the top of his head. when the safe word slid out of your mouth he immediately stopped.

“did i do something wrong ?” he rubbed your thighs as you shifted on top of him. the bit of worry leaving him once you hovered back over his thirsty mouth.

“mhm.. jus’ wanted to turn around..” you shakily exhaled, feeling him tighten his grip on your ass before he dove back into you.

“taste so good baby..” his hot breath fanned against your sopping core.

you brushed your fingers along his abdomen, pulling his designer briefs down far enough for his bulge to fling out. your hips rotating at just the sight alone.

“hm, no baby, just relax pretty.” he groaned, nibbling on your bud.

“please, hee..” you pleaded, rubbing his length gently.

“no, sit the fuck up.” he pulled your waist, causing you to lean up straight. a pout adorning your lips.

“but, you’re so hard baby..” “looks so good..” you grinded against his mouth once his tongue found your insides again. moaning at your neediness for him.

you felt yourself shaking just at the feel of him kissing your dewy cunt. it was so sloppy and passionate. he kissed your pussy like he loved it. and he did. he could do it for hours without complaining.

“shit.. gonna come..” you breathlessly whined.

“you’re gonna come, hmm? mama ?” he smirked against you licking through each fold. he didn’t wanna waste a single drop of you.

“yeah..” eyes closing shut at the feeling, ready to burst any minute.

“then do it.” he teased your clit, spelling out his name on the tip of your swollen bud. giggling as he could hear you falling apart above him.

“come for me baby.”

he continued praising you, cheering you on every step of the way. your legs were shaking uncontrollably.

“ugh, i’m coming.. right now..” you struggled to even speak, a last stroke of his tongue making your insides tighten. “fuck !”

your body ‘laxed on his. you were breathing heavier than ever. and even felt slight embarrassment for yourself.

“shit princess, you just squirted..” he caressed your shivering ass; licking his cumstache with a ‘good girl.’

“hmmm...”

ヾ(≧▽≦)o

want to read more ?? click here for a part 2 !!

#heeseung smut #enhypen smut #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen drabbles #heeseung drabbles #lee heeseung x reader

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thetriumphantpanda · 4 months ago

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you'll just have to taste me | joel miller

Summary | He knows he's no good, knows it's a bad idea, you're out of bounds and should stay that way, but it's okay to test the waters, right?

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.7K

Warnings | this is literally 1.7k of utter filth, you've been warned, it's nasty, I told you, okay? Unspecified age gap, Joel is your dad's buddy and Sarah is your friend. Joel fights with his morals but the pussy is too good. Explicit smut, JUST THE TIP, unprotected PiV, cumshot, cum eating, spit play, dirty talk, Joel talks you through it. No outbreak au, no use of Y/N.

Authors Note | I AM SO INCREDIBLY LATE TO POST THIS, but this is my entry to @hellishjoel's HOT DILF SUMMER CHALLENGE. I know it's September and this was not my original idea, but it came to me and I wrote this in less than an hour. It's filth and it's nasty and I beg you not to judge me okay? Written and edited on my phone so forgive any mistakes.

Divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

He’s going to hell. He’s always known it. Despite the years of his parents putting him in his Sunday best and taking him to church each week with his brother, despite his upbringing and the way he’s always tried to be the perfect southern gentleman, Joel Miller is going to hell, and the evidence in right in front of him.

You. His buddy’s daughter. His own daughter’s friend. The bane of his existence for the whole damn summer, with your short dresses and flirty eyes and the way you make him laugh and the way he’s wanted you since you waltzed back into town, masters degree under arm, with one purpose which seemed to be to turn him on at every possible opportunity.

It’s been bubbling for weeks. You’d caught him in the corridor during movie night with Sarah, whilst she was downstairs microwaving popcorn and he’d had no choice but to kiss you, your lips drenched in something that tasted like mango and made him dizzy. Then, at the annual neighbourhood cookout, when you’d dropped a fork and bent over to pick it up, flashing him those skimpy panties as you did, he’d had no choice then but to drag you upstairs and teach you a lesson, ten sharp slaps on your pert ass and strong words that you needed to stop. He doesn’t doubt you went home that night and shoved three fingers into your cunt and dreamt of him as you came.

But now, it’s all real. Sarah’s gone back to college, your parents back to work, and you have nothing lined up until you start getting invited to interview for positions that you’d applied to with a slew of applications about two weeks ago. It’s why you’re on his bed, it’s why he’s left Tommy on site on his own, and why you’re bare as the day you were born, legs spread obscenely, pussy on display as he stands at the foot of his bed and contemplates whether he really should do this.

“Y’scared, old man?” You tease, one hand trailing down your body, two fingers spreading the swollen lips of your cunt, middle finger dipping inside.

He can see the webbing of slick you drag from yourself, finger slow as it circles your clit. His eyes can’t miss the way your hole flutters as you touch yourself, like it’s begging to be filled, begging to be filled by his throbbing cock that he’s currently fisting in his hand.

“Ain’t scared,” He mutters, “Y’sure you wanna do this?”

You don’t speak in response, just dip two fingers back into your weeping cunt and start fucking yourself with them. He squeezes his cock a little tighter in his hand, feeling the weeping of pre-cum at his tip as he watches.

“Ain’t no comin’ back from this.” He muses, moving forward, knees on the mattress, your legs spreading wider to accommodate the width of his thighs.

“Want you,” Is all he hears from your mouth as his cock rests on your pussy, hot and heavy against your skin, “Want your cock, Joel.”

He thrusts his hips a little at that, dragging his length through the soaking folds of your cunt, head rubbing against the swollen bud of your clit.

“Y’sure?” He asks, continuing the rub of his cock, “It’s all over then, baby,” He coos, “I’ll ruin ya.”

“Good,” You groan out, hips shifting to try and catch his tip at your entrance, to try and get exactly what you want, “I want it, Joel, I want it bad.”

“Y’know what I think?” He asks, looking down at you, stopping his movements and opting to circle your clit with his thumb instead, “I reckon we need t’make sure.”

“I am-” You try and protest, but he’s shushing you.

“I reckon,” He says slowly, bringing the tip of his cock to press to your weeping core, “It don’t count if it’s just the tip,” He pushes his hips forward ever so slightly, not enough to sink inside, but enough that he’s already had a taste of what you’ll feel like around him, “Just the tip baby, and then we’ll know.”

He looks down at you and he can see your wild eyes, the way you nod your head against the mattress. You’re such a good girl for him, taking whatever he’ll give you, so he does just that. With three fingers on the base of his cock, he lets the tip of him push inside you, just enough that the head of his cock is nestled inside you, and he knows he’s fucked.

You’re tight and you’re warm and you’re breathing and whimpering for him, and those perfect walls are clenching around him so right and so good that it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove his cock all the way in and damn you both to hell.

“Jesus girl,” He breathes, one hand clutching at your hip to hold you still, “Fuckin’ perfect, ain’t ya?”

You don’t speak back to him, it’s all you can do to lie and try not to writhe too much as he starts his shallow thrusts. The head of his cock popping from your wet cunt and then being sucked back in so perfectly. He’s had his fair share of women since Sarah went to college and he knows he’s a lot to take, knows that he knows what he’s doing too, but when he looks down at you, your eyes tilted back in your skull, cunt squeezing him just right, he can’t help but think this is what he’s been missing.

“That good?” He asks, bringing his thumb back to your clit, swirling wetness across it as he continues the shallow thrusts of his hips.

“Want it all,” You grumble, “Can take it all, Joel.”

“Ain’t got a doubt,” He teases, but doesn’t relent, “But we gotta make sure.”

He wants to lean down, wants to cover your body with his own and suck one of your perfect nipples into his mouth, but he knows the minute he does you’ll beg him so nice and he’ll break, so he resists, swirling his thumb across your clit with more purpose now.

“M’gonna-” You choke out, and he knows, he can feel it, the way you’re fluttering and tightening around the head of his cock so perfectly, “Gonna come, Joel.”

“Yeah?” He asks ruefully, “Gonna come on my cock, pretty girl?” He smiling down at you as your mouth drops open, your cunt pulling painfully tight around him, “Go on, you can do it,” He babbles, trying to fight the tightening in his own stomach until you’ve come for him, “Come for me, baby.”

And you do, by God you do, and he thinks it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. You whine, a high-pitched kind of thing, eyes clamping shut as you arch your back. There’s more slick around his cock than he’s ever seen before, making it easy for the tip of his cock to ease you through it. The convulsing of your walls around him bring him to his own end, using his last braincell to drag the tip from your cunt and give himself three strokes before the thick ropes of his cum are splashing across your swollen pussy. He watches where they land, painting your skin as his own as his head tips back and breathes a sigh of relief.

He know’s he should stop, but there’s something mesmerising about the mix of his cum and your own, the way he’s dripping down you and onto his sheets. His shuffles down a little and leans forward, using his thumbs to spread your pussy open, before he uses his tongue to gather the mess down there. He’s slurping at you, tasting your cunt through his cum, gathering as much of the two of you as he can in his mouth.

You’re moaning for him when his tongue flicks a few times at your sensitive bud, but then his body is over yours, weight pressed against you as one of his hands takes your chin, squeezing at your jaw to get you to open your mouth, which you do, gladly.

Joel opens his own mouth, letting his cum, your slick and his spit drop from his own into your waiting mouth. He doesn’t give you a minute to swallow anything, his tongue mixing with yours in a kiss that is messy and obscene. He can feel your hips against his own, your hot cunt pressing against him. If he was younger, he’d pin you down and fuck you again, this time for real, but all he can do is pull away.

“Swallow it,” He orders, closing your mouth and watching the bob of your throat as you do what he says, producing your tongue for him, “Good fuckin’ girl.”

He unceremoniously collapses onto the bed next to you, arm over his eyes as he tries to recover some semblance of composure. He can feel your body next to his, shuffling a little closer, and then he can hear you stifling a laugh and then before long, it’s not stifled, it’s full on laughter. He takes his arm from his eyes and looks at you, and can’t help but start laughing himself, until his ribs hurt and you’ve calmed down enough, your body draped across his in the mid-afternoon glow.

“This is bad, huh?” You whisper, fingers dancing through the smattering of hair across his chest.

“Terrible, really.” He responds.

“I’m sure though,” And he holds you a little tighter at that, “Next time, I want the whole thing.”

“Don’t worry baby,” He says quietly, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, “You can have whatever you want next time.”

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