#i took this video hehehe

[penaltyboxmaster]

GOALIE HUG‼️‼️‼️‼️

[skitskatdacat63]

2009 Brazilian Grand Prix - Jenson Button

[mrsfitzgerald]

2019 | europe 2022 north america | 2023

[femmeetart]

werefox!alanna gets plenty of kisses and pets <33

vanessa's makeup artist used arctic foxes as inspo and I couldn't get the image out of my head

[puppppppppy]

Xin Ya is so cute and well designed! more a question than a comment but I just love your style

thank u!! im currently redoing bits of their backstory and design so hopefully ill get some more art of them up soon

[awlumii]

i'm trying to write a xiao fic but my inspiration fairies left right after hitting me upside the head with an idea ;-;

how about you?? how have you been??

mmh, i understand that completely.. usually, i try to redo the things that inspired the idea — kinda like retracing my steps! i know that's not a foolproof methd, but regardless, i hope the inspiration fairies pay you another visit and stay for a while! :D

as for me, i'm feeling pretty good! i'm a little bitter bc i can see just how much has changed over the years — kids these days are just so... eugh. i take solace in the fact that my siblings are normal. but other than that, i reconnected with the family i started a drumline with, and made plans to come back and play again! i love drumming so much; it was hard to just watch this time since i could be doing it with them, but it's whatever — they're willing to welcome me back at any time and i'm super grateful for it 🥰

i hope you've eaten at least two meals and had lots of water today! ♡♡

[wittymumbledon]

when you put off celebrating a milestone so long that you entirely miss it--anyway here's a totally accurate interpretation of how i crossed the 200 subscriber mark

[gotta-winwin]

Can I request a full oneshot on that dino when accepting an award like shouting out his wife and watching the internet explode and the members reaction to him I NEED THIS it got me kicking my feet and giggling just by thinking this 🛐🛐🛐 HAHHAHAHA

btw I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS!! 😘

hehehe omg ofc! i was kicking my feet and giggling while writing this dino has no business looking THAT fine and bias wreaking me( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) thank you so much for both requesting and enjoying my work!

where's the trophy... he just comes running over to me <3

masterlist fic that prompted this oneshot

word count: 1.4k tw/cw: idol!dino x wife!reader, childhood friends to lovers, public shoutout, a whole lot of sap, seungkwan clowning dino a/n: writing this just makes me want to see svt with their s/o in real life (we know these boys aint single bro)

It's a quiet and unassuming day until you're reminded that today is the MAMA awards. It didn't help that the award show wasn't hosted in Korea this year, leading to you being stuck on your couch, hands quivering as the show began.

It had been a tough yet rewarding year for Chan and his group mates, and you had been lucky enough to see it all. You felt proud that even with the distance, you had always been the first person Chan would call for anything.

Headlining Glastonbury? He had shined brightly onstage and even brighter during your video call, where he took you through his day, making it feel like you had been with him every step of the way.

Tour? He was texting you in between songs, updating you on the tiniest things despite you scolding him that he needed to concentrate on the show. He just couldn't help it, his mind immediately drifting to you whenever something remotely interesting took place. Baby, DK's pants ripped onstage just now. He'd text you, shoulders still shaking from laughter. Coups hyung got barked at again. Whatever tidbit it was, Chan's name lighting up on your screen was a warm embrace compared to the lonely nights without him.

It'd all be worth it now, you thought, as you let out a gasp of joy when Seventeen's name was announced as Artist of the Year. Your hands were still shaking as you picked up your phone to record the moment.

Chan's face glowed on your tv screen as he walked up with his members to accept the award. You couldn't help but remember how he used to look - kidish, tiny, cute and juvenile. You recalled how drastic the change had been, as you both matured and grew together, leading you to realize how hot he looked - so built and handsome. Yet it was the bubbly glow that stayed with him despite aging that you loved the most.

"Thank you Carats!" Your husband raised the trophy proudly into the air. "You know...I was the only one who didn't get to speak when we won a daesang last year..."

You couldn't help but scoff endearingly at how sassy he could be while receiving an award you knew would make him sob to you later.

"Ever since our debut," He continued, staring at you through the tv screen. "My dream was to be an artist that would remain in history."

You could remember that, even now, years later.

"I'm going to make you a promise." 15 year old Chan had told you, on the rare chance he had gotten a break from training. He had taken the two of you to the park in between Pledis and your house.

"Promise me what?" You had replied, lips feinting a small smile as you watched his eager expression.

"That one day, I'm going to be an artist that will stay throughout history." His face was full of raw determination. "And that you'll be right there with me. On top of the world. One day, I'll be an artist you can be proud of."

Seems like he kept that promise.

"And those feelings..." He continued speaking into the mic. "Those feelings will continue as we go into the future with Carats." The crowed cheered at his words.

You could tell from his face that something was up. He had that mischievous look that would only come out whenever he was about to do something to tease you.

"And..." He took a pause, smiling at the dramatic effect it had caused. "Well..."

You half wanted to reach through the tv and smack him, as your heart raced in anticipation. You had ran through his speech with him on video call days ago. This wasn't part of it.

"I once made a promise to someone," He finally said aloud, and you knew immediately what he was doing, mouth dropping in both surprise and realization. "A long time ago, when we were both very young, I made a promise that I would become an artist she could be proud of." He smiled bashfully at the memory of both the moment and the person. "I also promised her that she would be there with me, on top of the world."

You had to sit down, your legs failing you.

"I kept my promise, didn't I?" He said into the mic, and you could tell he was speaking just to you. "I hope you're proud of everything I've done, my lovely, patient wife. Only you could've stuck by me for fourteen years." He added the last part teasingly. "I love you." He raised the trophy in his hands. "This- this is for you." Pausing, he corrected himself. "Well- for you and the members." He smiled sheepishly at the boys behind him. "It is our award."

Dino had gotten Seungcheol's approval minutes before the award show began, begging the leader to let him shout out his wife. "Please, please, please, hyung." He had pleaded, trying to convey that this was literally his lifelong dream. "I've always wanted to do that. Just drop a bomb into the world and walk off." Seungcheol could only sigh, staring at him with a mix of exasperation and amusement. He nodded, although he knew it would inevitably create a media frenzy for the company to clean up. "Go for it." He patted their maknae on the back. "Not my problem, not my mess."

Jeonghan had been kept blissfully in the dark until he was watching their acceptance speech live. The further Dino's speech went, the further his jaw dropped. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Dino was shouting out his wife on the stage at MAMA awards, accepting an AOTY award. Immediately after, he calls Dino up, scolding him for not telling him sooner and admitting it was a baller move.

Joshua had been busy trying to comfort a near-tears Seungcheol, Dino's speech barely registering in his ears. He's blissfully confused when the crowd goes bonkers, yelling into DK's ear to tell him what on earth happened. He's proud of Dino, acknowledging that their maknae has grown up to the point that the world now knows he has a whole wife.

All the way in China, Jun's watching the show live on his phone from his trailer on set. The connection is spotty, leaving his members in pixels and full of lag. Thankfully, the only clear part is Dino's speech, leaving Jun in deep shock and a little wounded. He wished he had been there for that.

Hoshi's loud ass gasp is the only thing fans can hear from the crowd other than their own screaming. It's clear on his face that he's flabbergasted - leading fans to speculate if he even knew Dino had a wife.

Wonwoo can't help but let out a hearty laugh once the weight of Dino's speech sinks into his bones. He knows the media and fans are going to have sooo much fun with this. He feels bad that you're now in the spotlight and hopes Dino got your permission beforehand...did he?

Very busy trying to will his tears away, Woozi's shocked out of his feels, tears evaporating at the sound of Dino's voice and the word wife. He's shocked, but happiness takes over when he realizes this will overshadow the fact that he's about to ball on global tv.

Minghao's just got that goofy shocked expression on his face as he registers the moment. He's smiling from ear to ear, basking in the joy that's radiating off of Dino. Who is he to stand in the way of Dino finally showing off his love?

Mingyu is over the moon. Having been your biggest supporter, he's elated you and Dino are finally going public. The fact that he's currently onstage accepting a daesang is completely thrown out of his mind, replaced with the joy of seeing Dino thrive.

Poor Woozi has DK's arms wrapped around him as if DK's trying to suffocate the man. He can't contain his excitement and joy at the reveal, accidentally using Woozi as a stress ball. He tackles Dino as they walk offstage, yelling about how CUTE that was and how lucky you are to have each other.

Seungkwan's stunned into complete silence. He's lowkey judging (just a little bit) at how insane Dino is acting right now - knowing this is bound to stir the pot online. He's the first one to tease Dino, going as far as clowning him during his own speech. "I once made a promise..." Seungkwan fails to keep a straight face as he clowned Dino's speech to his wife. "And I-" He's kicked off the mic by Dino before he can finish.

Vernon simply nods in approval as he watches Dino finish his speech. He respects the confidence and craziness to do such a thing, especially with how dating was basically a taboo for them as idols- and bros hard launching a whole ass wife!

[winxanity-ii]

FOXED IN [1/2]

ship: fem!fennec fox!reader x various!beastar warnings: non-explicit ( maybe cursing/profanity; sorry y'all I gotta loose mouth) word count: 1.7k a/n: heheh, I got back into beastars so idk might dabble with this more in a full fic way, we'll see I got so many running in my head 🤣😩 Part 2

★·.·´🇧‌🇪‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇦‌🇷‌🇸‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

The summer sun was hot as it shone down, beating relentlessly on the over-crowded public pool.

You sucked your teeth in annoyance, shifting on the edge of the pool where you'd been perched for what felt like an eternity.

Kids ran wild, yelling and splashing without a care, their tiny feet pounding on the slick concrete, almost slipping every time they turned a corner too sharply.

You couldn't help but flinch each time one of them ran too close, kicking up water that sprayed in your direction.

The constant nudging and the unending splashes were starting to grate on your patience.

You felt droplets of water continuously flicked onto your legs, each one colder than the last, and it took everything in you to not growl under your breath.

You were here because you'd bitten your tongue earlier and agreed to babysit your niece and nephews while your sister went grocery shopping. Free of charge, might you add.

It wasn't even that she asked nicely—it was more like you felt the weight of her tired eyes and the desperation in her voice, and before you knew it, you found yourself nodding and watching her rush out the door.

The one thing that made it bearable was the promise of her buying your little snack list as payment, but the longer you sat there, the more those snacks seemed not worth it.

The sound of another big splash brought you back to the present, a wave of water washing up over your legs, some of it splattering onto your shorts.

You sucked your teeth again, this time louder, and decided you'd had enough.

"Yup, I'm about to dip," you muttered to yourself, pushing off the pool's edge.

You weaved your way toward the crowded pool chairs, squeezing through the narrow paths between towels and bags until you made it to your family's little space.

Your aunt was watching from under an oversized sun hat, and one of your nieces sat beside her, eyes glued to your phone screen as some YouTube video blared.

"Hey, sweetheart, can you hand Tee-Tee her phone real quick?" you called out, trying to keep your voice as gentle as possible despite your growing irritation.

The little girl looked up, blinking at you, and then obediently handed the phone over.

You smiled at her, genuinely happy she listened.

She was one of the good ones, you thought sourly, the kind of kid that didn't make you want to rip your hair out. If it had been any of the others, they probably would've thrown the phone into the pool in a fit of rage.

With the phone in hand, you quickly shot off a message to your sister:

𝐋𝐈𝐋 𝐒𝐈𝐒 Sorry, too many kids around, my ass is starting to itch. Deuces.

You didn't even bother waiting to see if she'd read it. Whatever she had to say, it could wait until you were far, far away from the chlorine and chaos.

Pocketing your phone, you told your aunt and niece bye, promising you'd see them tomorrow for family dinner.

Your aunt waved you off absentmindedly, ogling at some shiftless, buff lifeguard on duty through her binoculars; from where she got them, you had no fucking clue.

You rolled your eyes, grabbed your stuff, and began making your way out.

A moment later, you were nudged by a running kid, and you nearly fell into the pool but caught yourself just in time.

You called after the child, "Slow the hell down, you fucking crotch goblin!" huffing before turning back to leave, only to slip on someone's wet croc and fall backward into the pool.

The cold water hit you like a slap. For a second, everything was a blur of chlorine and light refracting through the surface.

But what should have been a normal kick and push back up to the surface was delayed, not only by the overcrowded surface but by your waterlogged bag tugging you down, dragging you deeper.

You opened your eyes underwater, the sharp sting of chlorine burning them instantly. Panic set in as you struggled to pull off your bag, your arms flailing in the heavy water.

Your lungs burned, screaming for air, and you kicked harder, almost breaking the surface, almost tasting the chlorine-soaked air.

But the chaos above—the kicking legs, the waves—pushed you back down, the pressure growing in your chest.

The muffled shouts and splashes from above seemed distant, distorted by the water, like you were in some other dimension entirely.

The pressure on your chest grew, the heavy weight of your bag pulling you deeper, and you kicked harder, desperate to reach the surface.

But no matter how hard you fought, the surface seemed just out of reach—so close, yet the world above felt like it was slipping away.

The chlorine-soaked water filled your senses, sharp and chemically, burning the back of your throat as panic set in. You thrashed, trying to tear off your bag, your arms sluggish and heavy.

And just when your vision began to blur with darkness, something changed.

The water's cold grip vanished.

Your lungs didn't burn. The pressure in your chest evaporated.

You blinked...

... and opened your eyes.

The light came back.

The sound, taste, smell, and touch—it all came back.

The sound hit you first—not muffled and distorted anymore, but sharp and loud. The blare of honking horns, the distant buzz of conversations, the whoosh of a passing bus.

Your eyes adjusted to a new scene, sunlight flickering through tall buildings instead of the pool's glistening surface.

You were on the curb, your body pressed against warm pavement that was a far cry from the frigid pool water.

The smell of chlorine had been replaced with something foreign—a mix of gasoline, hot asphalt, and street food.

Your damp skin clung uncomfortably to the fabric of your clothes, but it wasn't the soggy, heavy sensation of being underwater.

It was just... hot. Sweaty. Real.

You blinked again, trying to take everything in—the movement, the noise, the overwhelming presence of this place.

A yellow cab zipped by, honking loudly at a pedestrian. Your head jerked back, face scrunching up in confusion.

A cab?

The air here was different too—thick with city smells, far from the sharp, sterile bite of chlorine.

The ground beneath you wasn't cool and slick like the pool's edge; it was rough, heated by the sun, and every nerve in your body screamed that something was wrong.

Your eyes scanned the scene around you. The towering buildings, the bustling people, the blur of colors as everyone moved with purpose.

Okay... this is definitely not the pool.

A strange sinking feeling began settling in your stomach.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you like that, didn't see you there, haha!" a voice cut through your thoughts.

You looked up, your eyes focusing on the person in front of you—a blond boy, maybe in his late teens. He had warm, honey-brown eyes that seemed to glint playfully in the sunlight, and honestly, he was kind of cute.

The way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled made him look approachable, even charming.

But what made you falter were the two fluffy ears on top of his head—golden Labrador ears.

He was dressed in casual clothing and spoke with a friendly smile, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

You stared at him for a moment, trying to understand what you were seeing.

At first, your instinct was to put as much distance between you and the strange hybrid Labrador in front of you as quickly as possible. But you hesitated, not wanting to make a scene.

Your mind raced, trying to calculate if you could get away without drawing attention—maybe find the nearest phone booth and dial up the US' Area 51 unit or something.

Instead, you gave—what you hoped—was a sweet smile, saying, "No worries, I'm fine." All those years laboring away as a server had finally paid off in moments like this.

It seemed to work because the Labrador's tail began wagging happily from side to side, his whole demeanor brightening. "Oh man, I'm so glad you're okay! You really took quite the tumble there," he said with a nervous chuckle. "Here, let me help you up," he added, reaching out a hand.

Before you could even decline, the dog-boy easily picked you up, cradling you in one arm like you weighed nothing.

Wait...

Horror struck you as you realized just how small you were compared to the hybrid-man.

You were nearly three times smaller than him. His arm felt like a steel beam against your back, and his strength was undeniable, his tail wagging all the while.

The man's golden Labrador ears fell slightly, his tail going still as he noticed your horrified expression at being picked up.

He hastily apologized, setting you down as gently as possible, his face flushed. "Oh geez, I'm really sorry about that. It's just—second nature, you know? My roommate's a fennec fox, and he's always needing a hand," he rambled, clearly nervous.

His words were abruptly cut off when you heard someone call out, "____!"

Your ears twitched, and your head swiveled towards the sound. The voice was a bit deep, carrying a warmth.

Before you knew it, a small tan figure dashed over and crashed into you in a tight hug. The impact almost knocked the breath out of you, but the boy's jolly laughter softened the surprise.

"I missed you so much, cuz! I can't believe you finally transferred to Cherryton!" he exclaimed, excitement radiating off of him.

When he pulled back, you took in the sight of a cute, tan boy. He had dark, curly hair, and his crooked teeth were visible as he smiled broadly. On top of his head were two large light brown ears, twitching slightly.

You blinked, staring at him, unsure how to react.

Then, your gaze drifted over his shoulder, taking in the numerous human-animal hybrids walking around as if everything was normal.

Slowly, your eyes lowered to your own figure, and you finally noticed—felt—a small, rhythmic thump against the back of your upper thighs.

Turning your head slightly, you saw a small black tail.

What the fuck...

[szynkaaa]

Character sheet screenshot I took from the the behind the scene animation videos

specifically interested in the first one that hows how his fur covers his body. I tried to strip the in game models of him in the game but that didn't work LMFAO

I like my monkey fully covered hehehe

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

hehehe can i get a “We’re not playing strip poker. I don’t care what I said when I was drunk.” with Nico please and thank you <33

Drabble Masterlist

for my swiftie nonnie whenever they see this.

As captain, Nico was always hosting small get togethers at his shared apartment with his girlfriend. Almost weekly they either had a team dinner, poker night or some type of hangout session at their apartment. Tonight, the couple was hosting their monthly poker night. For some reason, Nico's girlfriend was the only wag who generally enjoyed playing poker, so it was usually a night of just her and the boys.

Apparently, last weekend while celebrating a win against the Rangers at a local bar, she said that this weekend instead of a normal poker night that they should make it strip poker that way the boys lose less money then they usually do to her. Of course, she was so gone she didn't remember this conversation but of course Jack took a video of her announcement that she made while Nico was in the bathroom.

Tonight, all the boys showed up like normal but Y/N knew something was up when everyone seemed to bring their girlfriend or a random girl. Even Nico found it strange and asked Timo if he got confused and tonight wasn't poker night like they talked about yesterday at afternoon skate. Timo insured his captain that it was poker night and that Jack should be there any minute and then they will get started.

The Hughes brothers as if on cue walked into the apartment announcing their arrival. Jack had the biggest smirk on his face, glancing at Nico who was still in the corner with Timo both of Nico and Y/N equally confused at the scene unfolding in their living room.

"Okay who's ready to play some strip poker?" Jack asks.

Immediately both Y/N and Nico express their confusion, Nico claiming no way in hell and her agreeing. "Oh but Y/N it was your idea?" Jack pokes, he knows he's poking a bear - the bear being his captain - but Y/N has known Jack for even longer than she has known Nico and really he just wanted to annoy his best friend.

Nico gritting out the words from his mouth "the fuck she didn't." As his hands became fists at his side. Jack pulled out his phone and pressed play, making sure he was far away enough that he could dodge an angry Nico but close enough that Nico could hear his girlfriend's drunken idea on from Jack's phone.

The video ended and Jack looked at Y/N, she squinted her eyes at him in annoyance. "Yeah Jack not happening, but since you wanted to embarrass me in front of everyone. in my apartment. " Jack gulped as he watched her fold her arms over her chest and he realized he forgot how Y/N always seem to end up on top when someone tries to pull one over on her. She started emphasizing each word and with each word Jack stomach bubbled more in anxiety.

Jack started to brace for the impact of your words as he watched an anger Nico smirk knowing his girlfriend can handle her own. "Has everyone here ever seen the video of Jack on his 21st?" Y/N questions the group as they all agree they haven't.

"You wouldn't!" Jack screeched suddenly embarrassed.

"I would. Delete the video and apologize or I will send the video right now in the team's groupchat." she threatens, slowly pulling her phone out of her back pocket.

"okay!okay!okay!" Jack screams his fingers working quickly to delete the video. "Im sorry Y/N/N. Just please don't send it to anyone okay?" he begs.

"okay Jacky, now let's play poker."

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

Later that night as Y/N and Nico climb into bed he can't help but laugh at the events that unfolded earlier tonight. "hey baby?" he questions, "what was that video anyway?" He asks as he pulls her into his arms, Y/N laying on her back and Nico on his side his arm stretched over her waist.

"Oh just a video of Jack crying, hunched over the toilet because he drank way too much. He was babbling on and on about how he was never gonna drink again and then he decided he was fine and didn't need my help getting up. But as he got up he fell backwards into the tub."

Nico laughed as Y/N retold the story of the stupid embarrassing video she had from Jack years ago. "hey about what you said in Jack's video I wouldn't mind if we played"

Before Nico could finish his thought she cut him off, "We're not playing strip poker. I don't care what I said when I was drunk."

[octuscle]

Halloween Spirit

Mortimer didn't think much of video games and the like. Like social media, he blamed them for the dumbing down of the population and the success of populist parties. And if proof were needed, his cousin Dylan was proof. Dumb as a bag of

Since he couldn't find a hotel anymore, Mortimer had been forced to stay with Dylan during a conference. They hadn't talked much, Dylan was usually out with his “bros.” At the gym, at the sports bar, at the football game. Mortimer had used the evenings accordingly and cleaned the apartment, which was quite a mess. And when he came home in the evening, he was glad when a little of that cleanliness and order remained. Today he was lucky: the apartment was almost in the same condition as when he left it in the morning. There was only a PSP with a note on the dining room table. In Dylan's clumsy handwriting it said, “Bro, can you help me with the Halloween quiz? I always fail on the first I'll be back at eight, let's go for a steak then.” Mortimer was a vegan. Of course Dylan knew that. Mortimer sighed, took the PSP and sat down on the sofa.

“What is the etymology of the name Halloween?“ Good heavens, thought Mortimer! Is this going to continue at this level? He typed in ‘All Hallows’ Eve.” “Who does the custom of carving and lighting jack-o'-lanterns commemorate (last name, first name)?” Did Dylan really not know that, Mortimer wondered and typed in “Jack Oldfield.” “Wrong” lit up on the display. “The correct answer would have been 'Oldfield, Jack'.” Out of the blue, Mortimer had to burp. Stupid software, he thought. A good AI would have recognized that he had only mixed up the order. He took a sip of cola from the can on the coffee table. ‘On which day do children in Germany traditionally go from door to door collecting sweets?�� Mortimer scratched his head. That was on St. Martin's Day. But when was that again? He typed in “November 11th.” Again, “Wrong! The correct message would have been November 10th.” Mortimer burped again. Hehehe, that was a good one. Came from the chili today. He took a slice of cold pizza out of the box next to him and moved on to the next question. “What is a zombie brain hemorrhage?” Mortimer had no idea. He just wrote “a TV series”. “Wrong, a zombie brain haemorrhage is a cocktail made of peach schnapps, mint liqueur, Bailey's Irish cream and a dash of grenadine.” Mortimer farted. Damn, the chili had been really good. But something else stank too. Mortimer raised his arm. No, that wasn't it. That was honest man sweat. Just the way a man had to smell. Mortimer pushed up his undershirt and scratched his stomach. This game was really boring. “What is the most popular Halloween costume of 2024?” Mortimer didn't feel like it anymore. He would put on his football gear like every year. With that, he could get any guy into bed. Especially the little nerds. They weren't so bad, usually made a real effort in bed… Shit, what was the question again? Okay, so “football player”. “Wrong, the correct answer would have been ‘Shrunken Head Bob’.” Was there another beer in this pigsty, Mortimer wondered. He looked at what other games Dylan had on the PSP. When was the idiot finally coming home? They were supposed to go out for a steak with the guys. Mortimer could definitely use some protein. He flexed his biceps. Yes, the babies needed feeding.

“Bruh, im still stucc in traffic. Ill b home in about a quarter of an hr. Get ready fo' an epic dinner!” Mortimer knew what that meant. He wouldn't need his best buddy Dylan for the next hour. Enough time to play another round of Peace Walker. And then there was finally meat, almost raw, just how Morty liked it best. Hehehe, rare is also good for Halloween. His favorite holiday. But who could come up with such a stupid quiz with smart-aleck questions about it was a mystery to him.

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reactions to your "let's break up" text prank

Request: Hello! I've been reading your stuff, and it's so good. I was wondering if I could request something? A while back, there was a prank on TikTok with girlfriends texting their boyfriends asking/telling them they wanted to break up. I was wondering if you could do Seventeen OT13 reactions to the same scenario? Let me know if this is okay! Thank you! :)

A/N: Ah, this took me longer to complete than I expected. Anyway, this is their reaction to the general, "Let's break up," text tiktok trend. I know it's a really common prompt, but I still wanted to try it out. The videos the anon later sent me of the trend for the request (because I hadn’t seen before) actually had a twist, like, "What do we do when we break up," or, "When we break up, ___." These felt a bit different from the straightforward, "Let's break up," so I’ll be writing that version as well. I really want these to meet your expectations, anon, as well as for everyone else reading. So, if this isn’t quite what you were hoping for, please stay tuned for my next reaction post—it’ll be up soon. Until then, I hope you enjoy this one!

For the sake of the reaction, OT13 are not physically with their s/o at the moment.

Content: Suggestive in some members (Joshua, Mingyu, Minghao and Dino) MDNI!, angst if you squint, other than these I think it's cute heheh

This is my personal opinion and perspective. It may not accurately reflect their real-life personalities or behaviors.

Seungcheol: At first, he thinks you're joking, but the tone of your message makes him pause. He’s a natural leader who reads between the lines, so your message would raise a red flag. He’d immediately call you instead of texting back.

"What’s going on? Is this a joke, or are you serious?", "If something’s wrong, we need to talk about it, not text about it." If you stay silent to keep the prank going, he’d start to worry. “Listen, if you’re upset or unsure about us, we should talk in person. Breaking up over text isn’t like you.”

When you finally admit it’s a prank, you’d hear a heavy sigh of relief on the other end of the line. “You had me thinking about where I went wrong. Don’t mess with me like that, okay?” He’d pout and demand extra cuddles, peppered with kisses as apology payments, but it’s not long before he uses this prank against you, teasing about how you can’t live without him.

Jeonghan: He sees right through it. Jeonghan is the master of mind games, he knows exactly how to flip the script. When he reads your breakup text, he’d smirk to himself and reply with something like,

"Oh no, how will I ever survive without you? 🙄"

Or,

“Shit, what did I do? Let me grab my tissues and cry in public.”

If you double down, insisting it's serious, he might add a touch of fake sincerity just to keep you on edge,

“Alright, if this is real, I need to hear it from you in person. But if you’re joking, just admit it already so that you don't have to embarrass yourself before I start planning my heartbreak playlist.”

When you finally confess, he’d grin slyly and shake his head.

“You thought you could out-prank me? Cute. Now you owe me a nice date to make up for trying to stress me out.” (but was he even stressed in the first place?)

He wouldn’t even pretend to be mad, but his devilish smirk would remind you just how much you underestimated him. It was a nice try but you need to work harder to fool him.

Joshua: Joshua’s initial response is shock. He would be one of the most heartbroken, mainly because he wouldn’t immediately assume it’s a prank. His first response would be thoughtful and kind, showing how much he values your relationship He types and deletes messages a few times before sending:

“Is this really how you feel? Did I do something to make you feel this way? I’d really like to talk about it instead of texting.”

If you don’t reply quickly, he’d follow up with another message,

“Please don’t make a decision like this without us talking. I want to fix whatever’s wrong.”

When you finally admit it’s a joke, his relief would be palpable, and he’d laugh nervously. “I can’t believe you’d scare me like that!” He really thought he lost you for a second. You’re lucky he can’t stay mad at you. But just like Seungcheol he'll pout and will have to make up with him for some more~ (“You better make this up to me. Tonight.”) I'll keep it open to interpretation.

Jun: Jun would be confused and a bit hurt but wouldn’t jump to conclusions. He’d reread the text multiple times, trying to understand where it was coming from.

"I don't understand...."

"Did I do something wrong? I thought we were happy."

"Can we talk about this in person?"

If you keep the prank going, he’d start to blame himself so,

“I didn’t realize I was making you feel this way. I’m sorry.”

“Can we meet and talk about this?”

He was about to bring over your favorite snacks and talk it out and fix things!Then when you admit it’s a prank, he’d groan and playfully pout. His pout would be so adorable that you’d smother him with kisses in apology, and he’d happily take them all.

Hoshi: Hoshi's immediate reaction would be pure panic. He’d spam you with messages, each one more frantic than the last:

"WHAT?!"

"What do you mean break up?"

"Why??"

"Did I do something wrong?"

"I’ll fix it, I promise!"

"Don’t leave me!!!"

When you don’t reply fast enough, he’d call you, his voice would be shaky, “Please, let’s talk it out! I can’t lose you!” so when you finally tell him it’s a prank, he’d let out the most dramatic sigh of relief and switch to playful scolding in an instant saying things like, “You almost gave me a heart attack!” His whole world actually flashed before his eyes. But he wouldn’t let it slide easily, so you better give him cuddles for a week to make up for this!

Wonwoo: Wonwoo would approach it maturely but with a heavy heart.

"Is this really what you want?"

“If this is what you really want, I won’t stand in your way. But I’d like to know why, so I can understand.”

"I just want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me."

If you push the prank further, he’d try to give you space while quietly reflecting on what he might have done wrong.

“I hope you’re okay. Just let me know when you’re ready to talk.”

After this text from him, you'll have to immediately stop the prank because he's actually taking this into consideration for your sake. When you confess that it was all a prank, he’d take a moment before chuckling softly and saying, “You really scared me there. I was already preparing to give you the space you needed. Don’t joke about something like this, okay?” You really scared this man.

Woozi: He would be stunned and would stare at the message for a long time, unsure how to react. He finally texts back:

“Is this real? Did something happen?”

If you keep insisting it’s serious, he’d start overthinking.

“I didn’t realize I was making you feel this way. I’m sorry. Let’s meet and talk, please.”

When you reveal it’s a prank, he’d let out a heavy sigh and come all the way home to roll his eyes at you lmao. He can’t believe you just did that. Do you think he's laughing? No, he's not. But he'll forgive you this time. He’d try to act annoyed, but the small smile on his face would give him away.

Dokyeom: This poor man's heart would break immediately, and he’d call you with his voice trembling, his speech coming in quick succession, "What happened? Why do you want to break up? I don’t understand. Whatever it is, I’m sorry! Please!"

When you finally admit it’s a prank, he’d laugh out of sheer relief, but you’d sense his lingering panic. "You’re so mean! My heart is still racing!" (It is). So please do us a favour, don't do this type of prank with our cutie patootie and save him from a potential heartbreak.

Mingyu: Mingyu would be devastated but would try to keep it together.

"What? Why?"

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Can we talk about this face-to-face?."

When you finally tell him it’s a prank, he’d groan and collapse onto the couch, his hands covering his face. “You scared me so much! I was about to drop everything and come see you. You’re going to pay for this with a date night—and maybe a private encore performance after.” Again I'll leave this up to your interpretation of what happens after he comes back home.

Minghao: Minghao would handle it coolly but with a hint of worry.

"If that’s what you really want, I won’t stop you."

"But I’d like to know why."

When you admit it’s a prank, he’d shake his head and smirk. "Don’t test me like that again." Again, I'm leaving this up to your interpretation of what happens next when he's back home. (He’d pull you close, his lips ghosting over yours as he adds, "Next time you want my attention, just say so. No need for dramatics." — snippet)

Seungkwan: Seungkwan would immediately start spiraling the moment he reads your text. His fingers would move at lightning speed, sending a flurry of messages that progressively show his panic:

"Why??"

"????"

"What happened?"

"Is it something I did?"

"Please tell me we can fix this."

When you tell him it’s a prank, he’d yell. "YOU DID NOT JUST DO THAT TO ME!" He’d immediately start pacing in circles, waving his hands around like he’s rehearsing for a drama, "I was about to cry! How could you do this to me?" while being in call with you. But then he’d laugh, give you a side eye and forgive you.

Vernon: Vernon would be too stunned to react at first. After what feels like an eternity (but is really just two minutes), he’d reply:

"Uh... what? Can we talk about this?"

He's genuinely surprised so when you tell him it’s a joke, he’d sigh and laugh awkwardly cause then it makes sense for you to do a tiktok prank on him. "You’re wild for that. My brain didn’t know how to process it." I mean who can break up with a breathtakingly gorgeous man like him?. Also, you might catch him giving you side glances for the rest of the day, as if he’s still recovering from the fake heartbreak.

Dino: Dino would be heartbroken and immediately reply.

"What? Why?"

"I thought we were happy together."

When you reveal it’s a prank, his gasp would be loud enough to echo. "No way you just did that to me! I was about to cry!" He’d pout and demand endless apologies. His grin would leave no doubt about his plans to make you make up for it. He might be the youngest but again...I'm leaving this up to your interpretation.

[lee-laurent]

Little Green Monster - Luke Hughes

Summary: Riley wants his dad. And Luke is not his dad

content: children, tantrums (child punching, kicking, screaming), doubts about relationship, kissing, past oc x ex!john marino

wc: 3.3k

notes: the highly anticipated part 6!! this one is a bit of domestic life, but also dramaaaa. maybe luke wasn't as ready for a relationship with a mom as he thought (hehehe) ENJOY

"What does a cow say?" Luke asked as Riley handed him a plastic cow.

"Moooooooo!" Riley laughed, clapping his hands together as he put his plastic sheep in his little barn.

"Good job, Ri! You're so smart."

This was the first time that Luke had spent unsupervised time alone with Riley. Tori had gone to the basement of the building to do some laundry and had asked her boyfriend to stay and watch Riley for ten minutes. Riley was quick to rope Luke into playing farm animals with him, but Luke was enjoying it to be honest.

"Moo! Moo!" Riley took the cow back, bouncing it up and down like it was walking. "'Ockey."

"Hockey? What about hockey?"

"'Uke play 'ockey."

"I do, that's right."

Riley shook his head, frustrated that Luke wasn't understanding what he was saying. "No. 'Uke play 'ockey?"

"You want to play hockey?"

He shook his head again, standing up and toddling over to the coffee table. He grabbed the TV remote, shoving it at Luke's chest. "'Uke play 'ockey!"

"Ohhhhh, you want to watch hockey?"

Riley finally nodded, sitting down in Luke's lap as he sat criss-cross on the floor.

"I don't know if Mama would be happy if we watched TV right now," Luke sighed, knowing that Tori was pretty strict about the screen time. She didn't want to raise an iPad baby.

"'Ockey?" he tilted his head to the side, waiting for Luke to turn on the TV.

"Okay. What hockey should we watch?"

Luke flipped through the watched videos on YouTube, noticing that most of them were highlights of John or Sidney Crosby. He knew that Riley really looked up to his dad, so he wasn't surprised. But that didn't mean it stung any less.

"Dada!"

"You wanna watch you dad?"

"Dada!" Riley clapped, picking up his toy cow again.

"Alright."

Luke clicked on one of the fan made highlight videos of John, watching Riley's face light up when he heard the announcers say "Marino." Was that Riley's last name too? He didn't really ask Victoria much about that kinda stuff. He could tell she didn't like talking about her past with John.

"Mama's home!"

"Mama! 'Ockey!"

"Are you watching hockey with Luke? That's so fun, baby!" she smiled, pressing a kiss to both of their heads.

"How was the laundry room?" Luke asked, setting Riley down on the couch.

"Super exciting," she rolled her eyes, smiling at him playfully. Luke shook his head, leaning down to kiss her. "You resorted to the TV that fast?"

"No," Luke laughed. "We were playing farm animals but then he decided he wanted to watch his dad play hockey."

"So you're a push over?"

"Rude," he placed a hand over his heart, feigning a hurt expression.

"I'm joking. He loves watching John play. Almost as much as he loves seeing him in general."

Luke nodded, leaning down to kiss her again.

"What're your plans today?" she asked, pouring Riley a bottle for his snack before nap.

"Not sure. Might go to the gym with Jack for a bit. He's pissed I've been sleeping here. After that... nothing? Come back here and make out with my hot ass girlfriend."

"Not gonna happen, bud. Your 'hot ass girlfriend' has a playdate with her baby daddy."

"You're seeing John? Why didn't you tell me? I would've come."

"Because it's for Riley to have some proper family time."

"But the three of us hang out all the time," he frowned.

But Tori continued, not realizing how much her words were hurting him. "He needs some... regular family time. My therapist said it's a good thing to do. So, we're giving it a try."

"Your therapist? Why am I so out of the loop, V?"

"I just... I didn't want to stress you out, Luke. I'm doing fine, I just need some guidance when it comes to managing co-parenting."

"Oh. Well, I'm gonna go home and shower. Enjoy your 'playdate.'"

"Luke-"

"See you later, Tori."

She sighed, shaking her head as the front door closed. She threw the towel she was holding down on the counter, resting her head in her hands. She took a few deep breaths, trying to center herself. Maybe dating wasn't the best idea after all.

Luke arrived home to the apartment he shared with Jack, his mood soured by his earlier conversation with Tori. He didn't like how she'd worded it as "proper family time." Why wasn't him spending time with them the same? And therapy. Why didn't she tell him, her boyfriend, that she was doing therapy.

Jack was sprawled on the couch, watching some stupid show he'd found on Hulu.

"Hey, man. You ready to hit the gym?" he asked, not even turning to look at Luke.

"Yeah, but can we talk for a sec. I need some advice," Luke slumped down on the sofa next to his brother.

"Sure. What's going on?" he clicked the TV off.

"It's about Tori. Well... me and Tori. She told me this morning she's having some family time with John and Riley. Said it's important for Riley to have time with his dad. And she mentioned seeing a therapist about co-parenting. I didn't even know she was struggling with that stuff. Like am I that shit of a boyfriend that I couldn't even tell my girlfriend was struggling with her kid. And now I'm questioning if I'm really cut out for this whole thing."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Cut out for what? Dating someone with a kid?"

"Yeah. It feels like no matter what I do, I'm not measuring up. I'm always in John's shadow. And with Tori so focused on making sure Riley has time with John, I'm starting to wonder if I'm even needed in their lives."

Jack leaned back, studying his brother. "You're taking on a lot, man. It's not just about being with Tori; it's about being a part of Riley's life too. And John's presence makes that even trickier."

"I know. I really do care about Tori and Riley," Luke said, rubbing his face. "But it's tough feeling like I'm never going to fit into the family like John does."

Jack looked at him thougtfully. "You gotta ask yourself if you're ready for all this. This relationship isn't just about having a girlfriend; it's about stepping up and helping with the responsibilities that come with Riley. That's a lot of work."

"I want to be ready," Luke admitted. "But sometimes it feels like I'm just the guy who's not John. It's hard to see if I'm making a difference or if I'm just background noise."

"It's a lot of stress to take on. You need to think if you're prepared for that kind of pressure. Are you ready to be there for Riley, even when it's hard? Especially since he's a toddler. You have to be consistent and supportive."

"I guess I gotta evaluate if I'm ready for that," Luke said. "I thought I was. But this is a lot more complicated than I realized."

"There's an extra layer of complexity to this, dude. But I'm here if you get overwhelmed."

"Thanks for being honest with me, Jack. I needed to hear this."

"No problem," Jack replied. "Now let's hit the gym and work through some of that stress. Sometimes a good workout is all you need to clear your mind."

Jack's perspective had helped Luke realize the gravity of his situation, now he just had to think about where to go next.

~~

Tori walked into the park with Riley in tow, his lunchbox in her hand. John was already there, sitting on a park bench with a big smile when he saw Riley running towards him. Tori waved politely but kept her distance, wanting Riley to have some time with his dad.

"Hey, Ri-Ri!" John called out. "How's my buddy?"

Riley just giggled and clung to John, clearly excited to spend time with his dad.

"Thanks for bringing him. Missed family time."

"No problem," Tori smiled. "He's always excited to see you."

John nodded, moving his gaze to Riley. "So, how's everything? You've been busy lately."

"Yeah, things are a bit hectic. I've been trying to get more hours in working," Tori admitted. "But Riley's been good. He's adjusting well. Spending time playing with Luke."

John's eyes narrowed slightly, thinking of his next words. "You know, I've been thinking. It's important for Riley to have a stable environment. And, uh, Luke... well, he's still pretty young, right?"

Tori frowned, "What d'you mean?"

John leaned forward, lowering his voice as if someone was listening in. "I've noticed he's been around a lot. But, you know, having a young boyfriend can be tricky. It's not about him hanging out when he feels like it."

Tori crossed her arms, her expression guarded. "Luke's been doing his best. He's trying to be involved."

John shrugged, "I'm sure he is. But it's a lot for someone who's still figuring out their life. I mean, Riley needs someone that's going to hang around, not someone who could just leave whenever."

"I guess..."

John reached over, ruffling Riley's curls. "It's good that you're thinking about what's best for him."

"Yeah. Always."

"Have you been watching lots of hockey, Ri?" John changed the subject, hoping he'd planted the seeds of doubt in Tori's mind.

"Dada play 'ockey!" Riley clapped, snacking on some of the cheese that Tori had packed for him.

"You watch Dada play hockey?"

"Yes! With 'Uke!"

"Oh." John wasn't sure how to react to that. Sure Riley was watching him play hockey, but he was doing it with Luke. He could be watching it with him instead.

"It's great that he likes hockey, isn't it?" Tori grinned, breaking up some more cheese for Riley.

"It's awesome that you're watching hockey, but wouldn't it be more fun to watch with Dada?"

Riley, not understanding the subtext of John's question, just giggled. "Dada play 'ockey!"

"That's right, buddy," he glanced at Tori. "You know, Tori, maybe we could make that a regular thing. Just you, me, and Riley. Watching games together on my off days. Didn't you say he should be getting time with both his parents?"

Tori hesitated, her eyes flickering to Riley as he played with his lunchbox. "I don't know, John. We've been trying to keep things... balanced. I want him to spend time with you, of course, but I also want him to get more comfortable with Luke."

"I get that. But just remember, no one can replace his dad. I'm not saying Luke's a bad guy, he's just young. And let's be real, Luke's got his whole career ahead of him. Do you really think he can handle the responsibilities of being a father figure?"

"I'm not asking Luke to be Riley's dad. He knows that. But he's trying to be there for us, and I appreciate that."

"I just don't want you to get hurt, Tori. Or for Riley to get attached to someone who might not be around for the long run."

"I appreciate your concern, John," her tone a bit sharper than before. "But I've got his under control. I'm making decisions based on what's best for Riley."

"Of course," John raised his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just looking out for our son. That's all."

Riley tugged on John's sleeve, oblivious to the tension between his parents. "Dada, play 'ockey?"

"Sure thing, buddy. How about we practice shooting some goals together? Think you can beat Dada?"

Riley nodded eagerly, and John jumped at the opportunity to step away from the awkward conversation but also show Tori how good of a dad he was. "Come on, let's go play!"

They moved to a small concrete area near by, Tori watching from where they were sat. She knew John was trying to do something, but she couldn't deny the importance of his relationship with Riley.

"Alright, show me what you've got, Riley!" she cheered, moving the conversation with John to the back of her mind. As Riley focused on playing hockey with his dad, Victoria couldn't shake the idea that things were about to get more complicated.

~~

"Hey, you haven't been over for a bit? Riley's been asking for you," Tori smiled into the phone, mixing Riley's oatmeal in a bowl.

"Oh, um, yeah. Just been super busy. Sorry," Luke replied, fiddling with a stray thread on his hoodie.

"Oh. That's fine. D'you wanna come over for dinner tonight?"

"I have a training session with Nico. Sorry."

"Did I do something wrong?" Tori asked nervously, setting the bowl down for Riley. "Blow on it, Ri. Hot."

"Ooo 'ot!" he waved his hand, blowing on his food.

"No, Tori. I'm just busy."

"Are you su-"

"I'm busy, Tori. Drop it. I'll talk to you later."

"Oh, bye, Lu-"

He'd hung up. Tori sighed, moving on to making her own breakfast. Just as she was turning on the coffee pot, she heard a clattering sound. She turned around to find that Riley had thrown his bowl onto the floor, oatmeal covering the floor and bottom of his chair. His face and hands were also covered, his spoon discarded next to his bowl. She sighed again. It was going to be a long day.

She grabbed a wash cloth to start washing up the mess on her kitchen floor. As she crouched down, wiping up the oatmeal, Riley started crying, his fists rubbing at his eyes.

"Ri, what's wrong?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm, though the exhaustion was already creeping in.

"Noooo!" Riley wailed, kicking his feet in frustration.

"Okay, let's get you cleaned up," Tori murmured, lifting him out of his high chair and carrying him to the sink. He squirmed in her arms, his cries growing louder as she tried to clean his face and hands.

"I know, baby, I know. We're almost done," she said, her patience wearing thin. As soon as she set him down, Riley threw himself on the floor, wailing at the top of his lungs.

Tori stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to do. She really didn't want to get a noise complaint. She had already been feeling off after the call with Luke, and now this. She needed help and Luke clearly wasn't an option right now. She picked up her phone, scrolling thorugh her favourited contacts until she got to John.

The phone rang twice before he answered.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Hey, um, are you busy right now? Riley's having a rough start to the day, and I could really use some help," she admitted, her voice dripping with desperation.

There was a pause on the other end before John responded, "Yeah, I can come over. Give me 20 minutes."

"Thank you, J. I really appreciate it."

"Don't worry about it. I'll be over soon."

Tori hung up and looked down at Riley, who had moved onto his back, his sobs becoming hiccups. She knelt beside him, brushing his curls from his eyes. "Daddy's coming, Ri. It's gonna be okay."

Riley sniffled, "Dada?"

"Yeah, Dada's coming." She knew she needed John's help today, but she couldn't help but wonder what Luke would think if he knew she hadn't called him. Surely he couldn't be upset, he'd said he was busy. He'd been "busy" a lot recently.

John arrived at Tori's apartment, the sound of Riley's wails echoed through the hallway. He could hear the frustration in Tori's voice as she tried to soothe their son. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to walk into.

"Thank God you're here," she sighed, stepping aside to let him in.

John crouched down beside Riley, trying to get his attention. "Hey, big guy. What's going on?"

"Dada!" Riley cried, reaching out for John. His face was tear-streaked, and his eyes puffy from crying.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he soothed, picking Riley up and holding him close. But Riley continued to squirm, resisting his dad's hug.

"Riley, we're here, okay? Let's take a few deep breaths."

But he wasn't listening. He kicked out, hitting John in the stomach, and trashed in his arms trying to escape.

John winched, but held on, walking around the room with him. He was gently bouncing the toddler in another attempt to soothe him. "I know you're upset, buddy. It's okay to be upset, but we need to use our words."

"Look, Ri. It's Pooh bear. Do you want to hold Pooh bear?" Tori offered, holding up his favourite stuffie.

Riley shook his head, burying his face in John's shoulder, his body trembling from the aftermath of his tantrum. "You're okay, Ri-Ri. We're right here. Daddy's here."

It took a few more minutes, but Riley's sobs finally calmed into hiccups. His grip on John's shirt loosening as exhaustion took over his body.

"I think he's finally calming down."

"Thank you, John. I really couldn't deal with that on my own today."

"It's okay. This stuff is hard. But we're in this together, remember?"

Tori sighed and sat on the couch, motioning for John to join her. "I know. I just... I wasn't ready for the terrible twos. His first real toddler tantrum, I mean. I didn't know how to calm him down. And you're his favourite person."

"You did fine," John reassured, cradling Riley. "He's just overwhelmed and didn't know how to express it. We all have days like that."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I just hate seeing him so upset."

"Me too. But he's okay now, and that's what matters."

As Riley settled into a deep sleep in John's arms, the room grew quiet. Tori watched John cradle their son, his hand gently brushing through Riley's curls. The tenderness in John's actions stirred something in her--a familiar warmth she hadn't felt in a long time. She was so grateful for John's help, but seeing him like this, being so good with Riley, brought back memories she thought she'd moved past.

John looked up and met her eyes. There was something in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat. Without thinking, Tori leaned forward, her eyes flickering to his lips. John noticed, and in the heat of the moment, he closed the gap between them. His lips pressed gently against hers. The kiss was soft, lingering, filled with longing and familiarity.

For a moment, Tori kissed him back, all the good times from their relationship flooding her mind. But as quickly as it happened, reality crashed back in. She pulled away, her mind spinning with guilt.

"I--I shouldn't have done that."

"Tori..."

She shook her head, standing up quickly. "No, John. This isn't right. I'm with Luke. I... I shouldn't be kissing you."

"Tori, I know you're with Luke, but I can't pretend I don't care about you."

"It can't mean anything, John. I'm trying to move forward, to build something new. I can't go back."

"I-"

"I think it's best if we forget this happened."

She knew she had crossed a line, one that could complicate everything with Luke, but there was no undoing that she had just done.

"If that's what you want, Vic. But you can't ignore what's still there between us."

She didn't respond.

"Let me take Riley to his room," John offered. Tori nodded, watching as John carefully carried the toddler to his room. As she heard the soft click of Riley's bedroom door closing, she sank back into the couch.

"I'll head out now. But, Tori... if you need anthing. Call me," John said, standing near the front door.

"I know, John. Thanks. I mean it."

He gave her a nod, and turned to leave her with her thoughts. She couldn't deny the kiss, or the feelings that it stirred. But she was scared--scared for what it would mean for her and Luke, and what it might mean for the future she was trying to build.

[sgiandubh]

idk if you’ve watched it yet but in the 10th celebration video, the part where Sam says “we dnt even know when we’ll be released” and Caitríona’s reaction to it had me👀….like the rest of us it seems they too can’t wait for it all to end so they can finally “released” and free from St*rz clutches. But i thought that was interesting thing to take notice of

Dear Reaction Anon,

Of course I watched it. Friday, even. But I have a dinner to plan for Wednesday, my car to sell (plot thickens...), dinners in town and various people to see.... So, sorry for the delayed answer and so incredibly sorry for being also late to the Shipper Feast.

Almost everything has been dissected to death, as it always happens, but I might still throw in my two cents, after all. So, I'll simply relisten to that video as I answer you and hit stop every time something interesting that has not been mentioned in here yet, made me go hmmm, ok?

At the 01:35 mark, S: 'yeah, it was such a whirlwind, you know, I mean, going straight into screentests and then looking for THE Claire, and it took quite a while, and then this one landed in Scotland, you know, weeks before we just started'

Here is her reaction - definitely fed up with this peasant, right?

Also, as a side note, did you notice how emotional S gets every single time babies and domestic scenes are mentioned? For a man who supposedly has no family of his own, that is surely strange.

And then you are so, so right, Anon, this is how she reacted to his 'being in a bubble for ten years and we don't even know when we'll be released what the world looks like' comment:

Did I notice an impish smile? Well, I surely did, Anon - and so did you.

It was a smart move to watch them watch OL. I found it very interesting, lots of clues about their joint dynamic:

She, as always, is leading the pack. He is more reserved and usually takes his cues from her, constantly seeks her approval. Gradually relaxes as she seems to imply the context is 'safe enough' to loosen up a bit. And yes, this is all instinctive, by now. If I knew absolutely nothing about These Two and saw them act and react like this IRL, I would definitely have questions.

And yes, I think he could listen to her talking about WWII medical pamphlets and bandages for days and still never get bored. This guy still lives to make her laugh:

Psst, Anon - see how they hate each other, here? Which really makes me think the 'just promo/fan service' argument is borderline schizophrenic, really - and why is S wooden and clumsy when promoting anything else with ANY OTHER WOMAN in our galaxy, by the way? Also, S and McTavish pretending they were still friends at that MIK event in London was 'just fan service' - this? This is not really that.

And then, oh dear me darling, that photo. I can almost hear two different kinds of 'shiiiiit' reactions, here:

He knows he mustn't slip - as he usually does, she is more like 'shiiiiit, hehehe, see what we've done here'. Logically, then, he brings about that sorry modicum of an excuse 'I've been so jetlagged' (jetlag was actually the least problematic thing, in that pic, ROFL; also, there are two people in that pic, bless your 💖🤣). Followed by the only diversion he could think of: bringing in the 'thousands of people, that was incredible, blah blah' - and then she dutifully chimes in: ' I think we did Hall H...? the big one...?' (strange comments for a pic where one can see two very cozy and scantily dressed people, LOL). Dilute, dilute, dilute. But it's Horowitz reply that interested me the most: ' it's too bad you guys aren't photogenic, even after a long flight, like what a mess you guys look like, there':

He threw a bait, C took it: 'weeelllll...' and then Josh ended it with a simple, smiling 'please' that, in my mind, is on par with KDS' 'believe what you want'.

I also found very telling one of the last remarks by Horowitz, too: ' it's ok, they can't fire you now, it's too late, it's way too late'. Granted, it was about the trivia and allegedly in jest, but really?

And there you have it, Anon. Perhaps it's not much, but as always, I tried to take the road less traveled by. Thanks for giving me the opportunity.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— AN INTRODUCTION TO CREATIVE CAPTIVITY

SUMMARY : dean wants to know more about you and takes matters into his own hands when you don’t show up at his bakery. unreasonably, he doesn’t expect you to come back home early, but his mission was mostly successful.

PAIRING : vampire!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none 

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), baker!dean, stalking (it’s only hot if dean does it), angst, unhealthy obsession, yandere!Dean, possessiveness, soft Dean, implied panty kink, creepiness escalates, nerdy reader, reader isn’t perfect, (vague) chronic illness, voyeurism, b&e, stealing, slow chapter, and more to come

WORD COUNT : 6.6k

A/N : this chapter will lead up to the square stockholm syndrome on my @jacklesversebingo card. no baking :’(. heheh, Dean’s a lot softer and way more caring than the typical psycho-yandere type maybe some of yall were thinking of. I did research on yandere types and yandere traits, and found that it’s completely acceptable! in fact, a soft yandere is preferred, LOL. xx

Over the years Dean found that the perks of being undead included not having to sleep. That meant there were no nightmares to haunt him.. and now, that he had all the time in the world to watch you, to research you, first.

You were a fluffy cloud of love that became his companion through the sleepless, endless night. He knew seeing you again would feel like an eternity had passed, so he indulged in thoughts of you to keep him company.

He was home now and he had nothing to do as the moon bled through the windows of the place he “lived” in. He laid in his bed, unable to shut his brain off for the pretence of a peaceful sleep that he enjoyed doing routinely ever since he was a… vampire. 

His four hours of nothingness. 

He had too much time on his hands. 

He’d already read over a thousand books, watched over a thousand films and series, scrolled through the endless stream of videos on social media, and attempted to get good at hundreds of hobbies. What was the point of it anymore, after all?

Now, he thought of you. And that was the only point that made any sense to him. The only thing that mattered in his useless life. The only reason why he even wanted the sun to rise and bring another day. 

If it meant that he was able to see you again. To know everything about your existence. Then, it all mattered. The world needed to keep spinning and the world needed to be safe, for you. 

He took his phone from the nightstand and appreciated the wallpaper of his beautiful Impala. He was uncomfortably restless. He wanted to keep thinking of you, but he also wanted to shut his brain off. He couldn’t creep you out, it would ruin everything. He stared at the numbers telling the time, 1:24 AM. 

You were probably asleep by now. 

He wondered about you again. What position did you sleep in? What colour were your sheets? What was the texture of them? Did you use multiple blankets? Were you cold, often? Were your hands and feet always the only thing that was cold? Did you not suffer that way at all? Did you wear socks to sleep? What was the temperature of your home? Did you wear baggy clothes to sleep? Or something sexy? Or something cute? What was the colour of your walls? How did you decorate your home? Was it fun? Minimalistic? Did your house already smell like you again?

He cared so much about every tiny detail of your life and the place you called home. He itched to just get out of bed and find where you lived to see for himself. 

But for now, he lifted himself up slightly to rest against the headboard of his bed and unlocked his phone to find you wherever he could. He felt embarrassed to do so, but he searched your name on every app, including the dating ones he never removed despite being… Well, he hadn’t had sex since he became a vampire. He was terrified of anything bad happening to the women he slept with. 

The thought made him freeze. Would he lose control with you? Would he ever hurt you? His mind overflowed with images of your blood and him standing above you. He would die before he ever hurt you. He shook the thoughts away, remembering Lenore, and the handful of monsters that coexisted peacefully with humans. 

He could be with you. You could be his. 

You were all he could think about. It’s a shock that he hadn’t shoved his hands in his pants and pleasured himself just thinking of you. He would have, but he felt it would be disrespectful to you. 

He did try to relieve himself with those sexy vampire women in the past, but he just didn’t feel any sort of attraction towards them because so few of them even cared about humans. It was unbecoming. They were arrogant, indifferent, and it wasn’t even sexy. He just couldn’t get it “up” with bloodsuckers. So, what? He was still prejudiced and all that. Whatever, he spent most of his time as a vampire still hunting. 

He killed the entire nest and hunted down anyone that managed to slip through his fingers. He tried his hardest to keep being a hunter, with Sam’s brain protected with a wall, he had hope, a reason to keep going. But that was all gone, his family was gone: Sam, Cas. 

When word spread that he was a vampire, and it did—like a nuclear bomb—the fallout was massive. Somehow, the fear of the Winchesters was hundred-fold, even though, in all his time as a vampire, Dean hadn’t slipped up even once. 

He didn’t know how he did it. 

He really just did. 

He remembered the devouring thirst of being around humans when he was in the process of turning, while he looked for the leech that bled into his mouth for the cure Samuel and Sam were waiting to have confirmed. He could smell every human’s blood, taste the delicious quench of it in the air, and he somehow walked straight past every one. And when that one vamp opened the fridge to feed him a pick-me-up, the scent of it was overpowering, but never quite enough for his stubborn ass.

He declined and carried on with the mission, but the world had other plans for him. When he found the guy that turned him, of course he knew that Dean hadn’t fully turned; he was the leader of the nest, after all. He was smart and didn’t let Dean make any move unless he drained one of the women he didn’t find useful for the nest. 

He refused but the leader of the nest didn’t take no for an answer, and once again, forced Dean to feed on one of the women in the cages. Dean remembered that way it felt, the taste of warm blood soothing the aching dryness in his throat. Dean had planned on biting the poor girl for show and collecting the blood in his mouth to spit it out later, but once it touched his tongue, the bloodlust took over.

He didn’t know what possessed him to stop. Maybe the way the girl whimpered, because she was just a girl. Or the way she pleaded for him to stop with her weak, cracked voice. The way her body slowly sank into him and crumbled limply, but he somehow managed to push her away from him.

She thanked him, even though she was still stuck being a blood bag for the nest. Dean felt guilty, even by just remembering how it all started. His soulless brother, his idiot best friend. How was anyone supposed to know how to handle that situation? 

Dean grieved his human life. Having to abandon Lisa and Ben on top of it all. Then, his brother’s life. And finally, his best friend’s life. 

Sure, Cas was the one who made the mess to begin with, but what was the point of friendship if you couldn’t forgive them for the worst of the worst? Obviously, there was a line, but with the type of life they lived, what Cas had done didn’t cross the line. After all, Cas tried to make amends, even if it was too late. 

Dean could stay mad forever at Cas, but he was going to be ancient some day. What purpose would that hatred serve when everyone was dead? Forgiveness was all he had left to remind him he still had some semblance of humanity.

And right now, he needed to feel human. For you. 

He was more relieved than he cared to admit when he didn’t find you on any dating apps. So, he deleted every single one after he got the answers he was hoping to not find there. 

He hated that your Facebook was more dead than he was. You didn’t have your relationship status updated or your birthday published. There was nothing, just an old photo of you at some Korean restaurant. And even your family members’ accounts were as dry as his throat felt after going days without feeding. They revealed nothing, but he did find your friends: Bela Levante and Daphne Jordan.

But there was hardly anything to see about you on their profiles. God, woman, why did you have to hide yourself so hard?

He carefully scrolled through Instagram and groaned at another obstacle. Your account was private. He wished to stare at photos of you. The numbers on your profile teased him, he could see the amount of followers you had, the number of people you were following, and fuck… 43 posts he could be gazing at like a celebrity’s fanboy. 

He wanted to see everything “private” about your life, your hobbies, flashes, glimpses of your life, pets—if you had any, and everything about your family. All the little things that would have slowly painted you on the empty canvas in his mind. 

Dean shut his phone off with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling being illuminated with the moonlight, creating shadows from the tree that creaked outside by the window. 

How was he supposed to feel about you? What was he supposed to do to get closer to you? Would you see him again the next morning? Or anytime after that? Would he see you in days? Weeks?

Would you think of him at all? Or would you be too busy with your life to do so? Did you even want to see him again? Did you feel the pull he felt towards you? Was he being delusional to think that there could possibly be something between you and him?

He’d have to take matters into his own hands if you prolonged appearing in his life. If he got dozens of women to like him before, there’s no reason why you wouldn’t want him in the same way. He just needed to play his cards right. 

5 Days Later

Coming into your life was more difficult than Dean anticipated.

He went out more than he would have wanted, hoping to find you anywhere in town. So, you weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t be available for the first couple of days or weeks in town as you tried to settle in. He hoped it was just something you said to avoid Andy.

At least he knew you weren’t lying about that. 

He only saw you once three days ago at the grocery store. He watched you as subtly as he could, his eyes focused on your every move, his ears sharpened to your voice, every atom in his body was attuned to you, his nexus. 

He wished he was standing there next to you, as your boyfriend, a lover, a partner, whatever. As long as you were only his. So he could watch your cute faces when you touched something that you didn’t like, or be there to laugh with you when you giggled at something you saw, or to be there to remind you of something you forgot and had to pull up the list on your phone. He wanted to know what it was like to have another conversation with you, about anything. Was that asking too much?

He didn’t get everything he’d planned on getting when he got there, but at least he had your plates and the car you drove. He wished he was brave enough to have talked to you, to pretend to bump into you. Although it wouldn’t have been much of an act, he really hadn’t expected to see you there.

But there was something raw and real about watching you while you were alone, and in your head as you walked through the most-likely unfamiliar grocery shop. When was the last time you stepped foot in there? You stared at the signs above each aisle with surprise when you’d walk in and didn’t find what you probably would have years ago. 

He made his way to his car and thought of all the ways he could get you to be his. In any way that he could have you. All his ruminations and all his time was devoted to the goal of being with you. So much so that he felt like his entire life was on hold.

He knew it would start up again as soon as you entered his life. However, he hadn’t seen you—well, he hadn’t spoken to you in five days, and he wanted to respect you by letting you have your own space, but it was getting painful for him to be away from you for so long.

He waited to hear the beat of your heart or the sound of your voice being carried through the air and into his bakery, but he was only met with disappointment. Every time the door opened, he wished it was you walking in, he wished it was you smiling and flirting with him like every woman he regularly saw.

But you never showed up. 

Did he make you up in his imagination? Was he that desperate to feel something? Were you real and simply uninterested in him? That thought hurt more than it should have. He thought he’d left a good impression on you, and after you left that hundred dollar bill, his mind didn’t allow him to believe you hated him. In fact, it was the only proof that you were real after all. 

Why couldn’t you be as infatuated with him as he was with you? Why couldn’t you be as interested in him as the women who carved out time for him in their busy lives? 

You were impossible to get close to. His fingertips barely tapped the surface of your life and like a fish, you swam quickly in the opposite direction to evade being captured by him. But didn’t you see you’d be better off with him? Happier? Freer? More loved than you could fathom? More loved than you could ever be with anyone else? More loved than you have ever been loved?

You were on his mind every moment of every day since he met you. Was he nothing to you? How would you feel knowing that everything new he baked was because you had inspired him in his daydreams. He wished he could ask you how it tasted, what you liked, if he should make more of whatever new invention he had created. If he should add it to the menu. He’d make them all again for you to try them and give him these insights and suggestions. 

Mostly, he needed to know more about you. He just couldn’t bear the thought of you being a mystery. Or the fact that you’d never let him into your life to know the things that you inhibited within the safety of your home. Would the things in your house reveal your psyche? That’s all he wanted, to worm his way into you by knowing these things about you. 

Sure, he could be himself, but he needed an advantage first. He needed time with you where it wasn’t obvious he was imposing himself on your life without reason. Where could he accidentally or coincidentally find himself in order to spend time with you? So that it could all fall together perfectly as he has fantasised every waking moment of his existence since he met you.

He could only acquire that information by infiltrating your home. 

Dean didn’t expect this. 

It was all he could think when he tracked down your scent to where you lived—and he relaxed when he didn’t find your car parked in the driveway in front of your home. 

He blinked. 

He was astonished as he gawked at your home. The light of the stunning peach sunset was reflected on the tinted glass that made up the outer walls of your home. Those glass windows, from floor to ceiling, also reflected the breathtaking forest surrounding the area. How convenient that your house was surrounded by thick green trees. 

He stepped closer to your home to the surrounding area, the giant space that was entirely yours. There were a few plants, and despite being grateful about the lack of surveillance, he clicked his tongue in disapproval at the lack of it. 

You needed to be safe. 

He’d have to check out the glass, make sure it was shatter proof and bulletproof—even though there was no reason why your house should be armed against anything like that. He needed to make sure no creeps had made their way to your home, squatters or even people who may be infatuated with you. 

You hypocrite, part of his brain accused. But he huffed, pouting and narrowing his eyes straight ahead at the reflection of himself, scolding his brain for trying to compare him to those who were more selfish and probably more dangerous than him. He pushed the small voice that reminded him that there was nothing scarier or more dangerous than a bloodsucker being around a human. 

Dean pushed every thought away and had to quickly become familiar with the outside of your home before deciding it was safe to enter, to really get to know you. 

Were you going to clean this whole place by yourself? Did you have someone else do it? Did you cook? Or did someone else do that for you, too? He needed to know. How much freedom did he have to be in your home whenever it suited him?

He made his way to the porch and brushed his fingertips against the lock of your door. He may not have had a heart to race at the thought of being where you always were, where you felt safest, but his body still thrummed and tingled with excitement. 

Dean searched his jacket for the pick-set he carried in the inner pocket over his chest. He thought about how he hadn’t picked locks in a while. He didn’t have any reasons to, just the occasional need for it if he caught a case nearby. And ever since he became a vampire, he found that it was easier than before, easier to listen for the clicks of each pin falling as he slowly turned and prodded with his tools. 

He apologised to you under his breath once the door unlocked. 

He shoved the pick-set back into his jacket pocket while standing at the entrance of your home, and deeply inhaled the scent of you rushing outwards to greet him. Yes.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, surprised by the emptiness and the smell of newness that mingled with your sweet aroma. 

You were still way behind on unpacking. 

He found a shoe rack by the entrance and decided to respect your house rules by kicking off his boots and placing them neatly into an empty spot. So, that’s what it would look like if this were his home, too? His shoes, right next to yours. It looked right.

He curled his toes inside his socks, feeling the cool floor against his already cold skin and smiled. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it up at the coat rack, making himself at home. He could pretend for a few hours that this was how it always was.

He stepped deeper into your home, looked around and deflated. 

There wasn’t much to explore. Most rooms he walked into were empty, or they had boxes that had yet to be opened by you. Maybe it would scare you if he tried to help by taking everything out, so he left the boxes as you had them. 

Why hadn’t you made yourself at home? It’s been days and you haven't really done much. Was this just part of your indifference or was this because of the secret illness you had? Were you that busy with work? You were pretty vague about it when you were talking to Andy. 

For now, Dean sighed, he knew nothing. 

There was no indication of what was to be your living room. No furniture, no television, no tables. Unless he opened the boxes to peek inside and find out what each room would be, he would have to wait until you got to it yourself. 

At least your kitchen was easy to explore. Though most of the cabinets were empty. Only three glasses, four plates, two bowls… God, woman. Should he get you some things? He shook his head and quickly pulled open every door and drawer to peek inside the completely uninteresting contents. 

But finally, he got to your pantry. You had lots of snacks. Dean chuckled at the type of organisation that you had put them in. By colour. He smiled and reached out to touch them. He missed being hungry for this type of stuff, not that it stopped him from indulging in it every now and then anyway. 

His brain nagged him: Which ones were your favourite? Well, he had to guess that they were all your favourite to some extent. But maybe it was the Rice Krispies, they were nearly all gone. There were some spicy peanuts, too, and some other spicy, but still sweet, Mexican candies he had tried before—some, he hadn’t tried at all. 

His mouth would have watered if he were still alive. 

He snorted, moved on to read each package and box; he needed to try whatever he hadn’t already tried before, just to see if he could have that in common with you.

He didn't have to, but he wanted to be able to say: I have tried it before. At least. Maybe that would mean something to you, maybe it would matter. On the other hand, he already had a lot in common with you—in terms of preference for snacks. He liked your taste. 

He shut the pantry door and opened your fridge.

He pulled out the freezer and lifted a brow at the lack of contents. No frozen, microwaveable food. Just vanilla ice cream, some shrimp, salmon, halibut, and steak. That’s it? He frowned. Did you rarely eat at home or did you already cook whatever else could’ve filled your refrigerator? Maybe he was overthinking it; you looked healthy when he met you and when he saw you at the grocery. But looks could be deceiving—you were sick after all, and he had yet to find out what you had. 

Is that why you became a geneticist? Was your disease genetic?

He closed the freezer and opened the horizontal middle door. He found two bottles of mineral water, four bottles of water, and one can of Sprite. Was there any point to the giant refrigerator if you hardly used it? He snickered. 

After he finished checking out the kitchen—and after washing a bowl with traces of Greek yoghurt, honey, and oats and the spoon you’d used—he began making his way to the next room, trying to find more information about you.

He made a mental note of the softener and detergent you used for laundry and all the other cleaning materials you kept in the laundry room. He checked out the washing machine and dryer to make sure they worked properly—so you wouldn’t have to struggle. 

He frowned the whole time. He wouldn’t be bumping into you at the laundromat, that was slightly disappointing to think about. 

He made his way upstairs, giddy to find your bedroom once he got to the top of the stairs. He held his breath in anticipation after opening each door down the long hallway, always to an empty room, but he exhaled when finally found your room.

Your scent embraced him when he opened your bedroom door. Now, he’d definitely find out things about you that were much more interesting. Much more intimate. 

He was thorough with his search. 

He checked out every item on your shelves and your desk, your figurines and other collectibles. He took a picture of your bookcase to become familiar with your books the next time he visited the library. He opened each drawer and your dresser to review the contents thoroughly, your clothes and keepsakes and trinkets hidden beneath—and stole a pair of your underwear as he bit his lip; he knew it was wrong. 

He made sure to steal your pink lace underwear that didn’t match with a bra you owned. He easily discovered which bras weren’t part of a set and memorised your cup size. You chose comfort over sexiness—even the sexy lace you owned looked comfortable. You were so cute. 

He turned to your closet and examined every article of clothing—which was organised by colour as well. From sexy to cute dresses, old and new t-shirts, sexy and cute cropped shirts, and so much more he wanted to see you wear for himself. He found a few of your scrubs and imagined the way they’d hug your curves, even if they were hidden below a lab coat. You were so sexy. So fucking hot, he couldn’t believe he was touching the things you’d wear at some point.

He went through your shoes to memorise your foot size, but made a mental note of your favourite type of footwear. 

He closed the door and looked over your vanity desk and the limited amount of makeup. Mostly, you had hair products. Gel to enhance the volume, different brushes for different uses, a multi-use hair dryer or something like that, cute hair ties and hair clips and a small bundle of what he’d label as boring; they were just brown, black, and tan hair ties. 

He slipped a brown hair tie onto his wrist—one that was loose from usage. He pocketed the mini-lotion bottle that was half-empty—a miniature version of the larger bottle you owned. And after peaking through your extensive jewellery collection, he stole a thin silver necklace with a cute little charm. 

He searched your nightstand, glanced at your cute lamp, a small mirror, a water bottle and a pill bottle. At the sight of the orange container containing a month’s worth of medication, he instantly picked it up and snapped a quick picture of the name to do research later. He wanted to look out for you. 

He opened your password-locked laptop and the tablet beneath. He wouldn’t be getting into those anytime soon. He had no idea what your password could be or what set of numbers mattered to you. It was frustrating. 

He opened the single drawer and pursed his lips—amused. God, you were so naughty. But you did live alone, why would you hide it? It's not like you knew he’d be inspecting every object you owned. 

Dean leered at each sex toy with a smirk and imagined—the fact that you probably used them more than once fueled his daydreams—the way you’d pleasure yourself with them. How many times could you come? Which toy was your favourite? Who did you fantasise about when you were in the midst of immense pleasure? He hoped it was someone unattainable or fictional. 

His hand twitched at the metal handle he’d pulled to open up the drawer. He was tempted to touch and kiss each toy that had at some point touched the depths and outer skin of your sweet pussy. But he exhaled shakily and closed the weakly concealed Pandora’s Box to move on with his investigation of your life. 

He checked the bottom space of your nightstand, open to the world. He found an extensive collection of sticker sheets and sticker books, empty A6 notebooks, one that was full, and another that was halfway worked through. He pulled the two of them out, but turned his attention to your bed. 

His mind inquired things he simply couldn’t figure out without you telling him. Did you pleasure yourself here? Do you ever pleasure yourself on the chair of your writing desk? Or the backless seat of your vanity desk? Did you plan on doing it downstairs on a couch you’d set up in the future? 

He slid his hand down the soft cotton sheets of your bed and picked up one of your silk pillows, accidentally knocking off a weighted dinosaur and a tiny shark the size of his palm that rested on its back. The other small stuffed animals remained undisturbed as he lifted your pillow to his face and inhaled slowly, deeply the scent of your shampoo, softener, and detergent. 

He sighed softly, eyes closed. You smelled so good, he could probably bite you if you let him. He’d never want to purposely hurt you. He just needed to feel you. 

He pulled your pillow away from his lips and nose to fix it back in place along with your woolly companions and blindly set down the two books he’d begin reading once he was done with his exploration. 

Was this the same bed and the same sheets you’d slept in when you were a teenager? Were you as horny as he was at that age? Did you sleep with anyone at any point in your life—on these very sheets? Were they new? New as in bought here once you moved in? Were these the ones you used when you left home to go to university?

Maybe he shouldn’t be thinking of that. 

He stomped away to your bathroom and rifled through over-the-counter medication behind the mirror—allergy pills, Benadryl cream, ibuprofen. He found your pink with green toothbrush, your toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash. He quickly glanced at the shrinking bar of honey-coloured soap by the sink inside a small bowl.

He rubbed his fingers against the beige hand towel and then your olive-coloured towel by the shower door. He inspected the scent and brand of your shampoo, body wash, face washes, and conditioner.

Why was he so drawn to learn all these things about you? He never cared about any of these things before. Sure, to some extent he tried to learn stuff about Cassie and Lisa, but never like this. Why couldn’t he take it slowly? Couldn’t he be normal about you? You were just a woman. Just a woman who made every withering seed suddenly bloom in his desiccated heart and desolate soul. Of course he’d turn to you, like a sunflower turning toward the Sun. It was his destiny, one he wouldn’t dream of fighting. 

He returned to your bedroom and slowly plopped down on your bed. He smiled instantly, swallowed by your soft mattress, and laid down on your pillows with your notebooks in his lap. He lifted the one that was full and became wrapped up in the story of your life.

He was only partially disappointed that you’d only begun writing a year before. He only knew about that and still nothing of your past. Only through subtext and vague statements could he decipher events of your past life. And every now and then, something would bring up the past and that’s how he discovered small details about you. 

Inside your half-filled journal, he found your work schedule. 

“Residency,” he mumbled and glared at the extensive, ridiculous hours listed for you to work. No wonder he hardly ever saw you. No wonder you were so behind on unpacking. 

Dean’s ears perked up when he heard rocks and dirt crunching beneath tires. His heart would have stopped if it were beating and his blood would’ve run cold if it still ran through his body. He was instantly at the window of your bedroom watching you drive towards the house.

“Oh, fuck,” Dean muttered, watching as your car pulled up into the driveway. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” He scurried to shove your books back into place before legging it downstairs to retrieve his jacket and shoes and panicked momentarily. He wasn’t ready to leave yet! 

Did he touch anything else? Did he move something he wasn’t supposed to? He was so enthralled with his expedition around your home that he’d completely blanked out anything he should’ve been mindful of. 

He made his way back upstairs and quickly threw his shoes and jacket into the farthest empty room down the hall. There’s no reason you’d check out every room. Were you paranoid? Wait, he hadn’t accounted for this. Damn it, he was way in over his head.

It was too late. You were already making your way up to your porch. Dean could hear your quiet sigh, the sleepiness of it made him feel warm—at least the illusion of it. 

He quickly rid the bed of the form his body had made atop your sheets by pulling carefully at the edges and smoothing his hand over the wrinkles that remained until your bed looked untouched once more. 

Dean’s ears perked up at the sound of your car keys and your shoes being kicked off carelessly. Dean was suddenly excited to see what you wore. So, we should hide? his mind questioned. We? Dean scowled and looked around before picking the cliché of all hiding places: the closet. 

It felt like an eternity before you began to make your way upstairs. 

Much to Dean’s dismay, you’d discarded your lab coat at the coat rack, so he wouldn’t be fulfilling his fantasy tonight. But he could hear the material of your scrubs brush against itself as you shuffled lazily up the stairs and into the hallway leading up to your bedroom. 

Your door creaked open, you stretched, and then began to push your pants down your legs. Dean’s eyebrows shot up and he leaned forward to gently prod the closet door open enough to watch your black scrubs get pushed down your bare legs.

You kicked them off along with your socks and left them on the floor to lift your shirt up. Beneath it, you wore a grey thermal shirt. Dean watched, his mouth parched suddenly as your body stretched upwards, just in your violet coloured underwear.

He bit his lip to stop himself from saying something under his breath about how sexy you were. He couldn’t risk you somehow hearing him. But soon, you were completely naked.

Dean peered lewdly at your bare body. The way your hair came loose over your shoulders to brush against your warm skin, the shape of your breasts, the way you shivered and your nipples tightened as you collected your clothes to throw it into the hamper. Your proportions and the entire beauty of you captivated him. 

He wanted to fuck you, yes, but he also wanted to know what it felt like to hold the elegant dip of your waist. To know what it felt like for your body to curve up and mould itself into his body when you hugged him. To know how your fingers felt when they were weaved through his, as you had sown yourself into his dead heart to give him the illusion of life, of warmth. 

What did it feel like to cup the back of your head when he kissed you? Or to hold your jaw as he tilted your head for the perfect angle to kiss in? What did your fingers feel like when they skimmed over his cold skin and twisted into his hair when you got lost in the kiss?

What did your mouth taste like if his tongue brushed against yours? What did your plush lips feel like against his? Where would your lips trail off to and how would you kiss him?

Dean was dazed at his vivid fantasy and then you disappeared into the bathroom and he finally ripped himself from the perfect twill of his daydream. Disheartened, he leaned into your clothes, sinking deeper into your closet and briefly relaxed as your soft clothes overwhelmed his senses. 

Dean considered leaving now that you were home. He sort of got what he wanted, information about you. The rest of your house may have been mostly empty, but your bedroom wasn’t. And your bedroom revealed more about you to him than the rest of your home would have.

Still, maybe you’d get on your laptop and he could discern your password. Yeah, that would definitely be ideal. He could stay in the closet. There was nowhere else he could hide and the bottom of the bed was pretty useless. Besides, there was no reason you’d check in here, none at all. 

He waited thirty minutes for you, on his phone looking up what he could about your medication. He learned quickly the side effects, what not to take with your medication, when the best time was to take it. Then moved on to the minuscule list of diseases the medication was used to treat.

He was thrown deep into the research, reminding him of the days when he would have to search things through libraries and files for lore on monsters and to brief himself on the case he’d taken. It wasn’t too different: he wanted to get closer, he wanted to solve you. The only difference was you weren’t dangerous and you were beautiful, and he actually felt motivated to willingly delve further into the rabbit hole that was your life. 

The shower turned off and Dean shut off his phone. 

It wasn’t long before you walked out of the bathroom and Dean moved closer to the closet door, peeking between the small crack as you walked into your bedroom. You were patting your hair dry with a smaller towel and had your back to him. 

You threw the small towel successfully into the hamper and sighed exhaustedly. You were so silent. He wondered if it was only because of the fatigue of your job or if you always wordlessly completed tasks. 

He would only know once you completed your residency. Or if he found you on a day where you didn’t have to work. But he didn’t think you’d have the energy to go out, even on a weekend or vacation, after working such laborious hours.

He continued to watch you expectantly as you made your way to your dresser where your underwear was, he watched you sift through the neatly organised garments before you plucked something out and then your towel came undone slightly.

“Stupid fuck,” you muttered angrily and adjusted it. He grinned at your short temperament, but he wished you’d just let it fall completely so he could see you again. You bent over and looked through your sock drawer, picked a comfortable pair and finally pulled the towel from your body and threw it over to the hamper where it only made itself halfway in. 

Dean bit his lip at the sight of your ass; he traced the long divot of your spine down your back and the curve of your waist with his gluttonous eyes. He mouthed a ‘wow’ and licked his lips as you slid your underwear carefully up your legs.

You picked out a tank top and matching pants from the middle drawers and made your way to your bed with your socks in hand. So you did sleep with socks on. Ankle socks, fluffy loose ones with pink and white patterns. 

You lazily lifted your sheets, your expression more somnolent than he expected. Your feet, covered in clean socks, hid beneath your thick warm sheets. Your whole body was covered and your cheek pressed into the same pillow he’d grabbed. 

He waited as your breathing slowed, faster than he expected, you were out. Your mind shut off, tired from long hours of work. He envied you for a moment and then allowed his affection for you to bloom in his chest as he pushed the closet door open and shut behind him. 

He made his way to you carefully, and watched your peaceful expression. You lips were parted slightly and your breathing was so low and deep that your heart slowed down serenely.

He considered kissing you as you slept, but he’d rather have your consent when you’re awake some day; that’d really show him that you wanted him.��

Instead, he pressed his lips to your jaw, then dragged them hungrily to your quiet, gentle pulse and kissed you there. His lips lingered, promising the blood that would travel to your heart, that one day, it would be all his. 

-> life ain't easy when you're a mythical creature

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