#i was really curious as to how long he'd follow but i think he hit a boundary

[ageless-aislynn]

Mass Effect: Andromeda - That time where Sara Ryder became an adopted mom to a Fiend 🤔🤣😉

This is the Elaaden mission where you're supposed to "tame" a Fiend by setting a smoke lure. It draws a Fiend and you fight it but instead of it dying, it's supposed to sit down by the smoke and ignore you after that. This Fiend, though, really wanted some Pathfinder skritchies and cuddles and followed Sara all of the way back to the NOMAD.

And then... Okay, please imagine the hysterical laughter I gave at the NOMAD part. You've got to see that for yourself, lol!

Sorry, as usual, for the lack of nice editing. This is the raw footage since I still have no Vegas to work with. I initially just wanted to capture how the Fiend was weirdly following Sara around and then it became one of my favorite moments so far in my over 600 hours in this game! 😍🤣

I seriously wish Sara could've kept her Fiend pal and brought him back to the Tempest to hang out in her quarters with her hamster and Pyjak, lol!

I love Vetra at the end of that clip, commenting about the crazy rock formations as if we hadn't just had a FIEND sitting on top of the NOMAD, lol! 🤣🤣🤣

Love you, FiFi, I'll never forget you, bud! 🤗🤗🤗

[confused-pyramid]

Breaking Point

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: You and Art were hitting partners (and a bit more) in college, so when you run into him a decade later at the U.S. Open, old sparks reignite...

word count: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral (fem!receiving), slight marking, drinking

a/n: I watched Challengers last night and then wrote this whole thing in one sitting. Nothing in this is really canon other than Art being a major simp lol so no spoilers for the movie! I usually make playlists (or at least find a few songs that get me in the zone) when writing, so I thought I'd start sharing them here too if people are interested!

You should've known he'd be here. You've been following his career for the last decade since you graduated, and ever since he won Wimbledon last year, he's been tennis royalty, but a small part of you still thought you wouldn't run into him here. At the fucking U.S. Open.

Stanford was a lifetime ago, and you haven't kept in touch with anyone from the college team, but there was always something about Art Donaldson that stuck with you. Ten years later, that hasn't changed.

"It's been so long," he calls out when he spots you from across the practice courts. "I didn't think I'd see you."

You didn't either, and you still haven't decided how you feel about it yet, but when he jogs over to your side, you just shrug. "Guess it's your lucky day."

He smiles, and his teeth glimmer in the bright sunlight. "It certainly is."

The loud thwacks of tennis balls hitting rackets echo around you, but you can't seem to focus on anything but the man standing in front of you. He looks good.

He was beautiful in college too, whether he was training across the net or slipping into your bed, but it feels different now, with so much time apart. He looks like a man now.

"Anyway," Art says, jerking you back to reality. "We should get a drink sometime. To catch up."

He adds the last part almost as an afterthought, but it doesn't escape your notice how his eyes have been trailing up and down your body since he walked over.

A drink could mean almost anything with Art Donaldson, but you're too curious to refuse. "Sure. This weekend, after the semi-finals."

He nods, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you grab your bag from the bench beside you before looping the strap over your shoulder.

You walk off the practice courts after one last glance over your shoulder, and you feel his eyes following along until the doors swing shut behind you.

***

He should've expected this. You were a firecracker in college, and you kept him on his toes every single day you were together, so he really should have known what he was getting into when he met you for drinks that weekend.

Instead, he's one too many beers in, and his buzz is only enhancing the glow of your beauty in the hazy bar light. Your dress isn't even that low cut, but something about the shadows glancing over your strong shoulders reminds him of late nights in the Stanford dorms after a hard practice when there was only one thing he wanted more than sleep.

"You played really well this morning," he says genuinely as he sets his beer back onto the table. "After that first set, Mueller didn't stand a chance."

You flash him a dazzling smile as you shrug, resting your chin on your palm. "I had her after the third game, but thanks. It was a quick match."

Art hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you sat down, and while prolonged eye contact usually makes you nervous, you find that you're actually enjoying the attention quite a bit. Attentiveness was never an issue with him, and you would normally give in to your urges, but there's just too much history with him, and you can't afford to lose focus. Not when the title is so close you can taste it.

"I hear the networks are eyeing you for a commentator post," you say, trying to change the subject.

You trace your finger around the rim of your nearly empty margarita, before lifting it to take a final sip, and you don't miss how his throat bobs as you lick the salt off your lips.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles, clearing his throat. "It was just some chatter, but I'm not looking to retire anytime soon."

You frown. "Is that right?" He's playing better than ever, but he definitely hasn't been himself out on the court in years.

He glances down, clearly trying to avoid the scrutiny, and when his eyes land on your empty glass, he changes the subject again. "You want another drink?"

You shake your head, knowing that another will lead to a less than fun morning, but he isn't done yet.

"You sure?" His eyes find yours again, and this time the eye contact feels primal. "It doesn't have to be here."

Your eyebrows lift and you tilt your head with a knowing smile. "Where were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, before his lips curve up into a cheeky grin. "My room's nice."

You saw it coming from a mile away, but it still pulls a laugh out of you. "Oh, I'm sure it is, but this isn't college anymore, Art. You should get some sleep...focus on your match in the morning."

You push your glass forward and stand up, nodding at him as you turn to leave, but then you see him stand too out of the corner of your eye.

"I'll walk you to your car."

He looks at you with a hint of amusement in his expression, and you can't help but want to play along, even though Art Donaldson was nothing but trouble for you.

You don't respond, instead just stepping out from around the table and walking out the front doors of the bar. You don't have to turn back to know he's right behind you, and when you reach your car, parked in the center of the nearly empty parking lot, you spin around.

He doesn't stop walking until he has you practically boxed in by your driver's side door, his face less than a foot from yours as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

He had pushed his sleeves back at some point in the night, from the humid summer heat of the bar, and you can see the veins on his forearms now, under the dim light of the street lamps.

"This is me," you say jokingly, tipping your chin at your car as he looks at you with an expression you can't distinguish. "I'm good from here."

He doesn't move.

It's not that you expected him to give up so easily; you had just forgotten how persistent he could be.

Art's mouth stretches into a slanted smile. "Do you remember the Davis Invitational? Junior year."

Speaking of his persistence...he had been pursuing you for months, not in any tangible way, but you always knew what he was thinking.

After the invitational, where you and Art had been the respective men's and women's champions, you had gone back to his dorm to celebrate. Three hours and just as many vodka shooters later, he had finally gotten you in his bed. Not that you were complaining.

Art knew his way around your body, and even that first night, he had managed to get you off more times than you can remember.

"What about it?" you shoot back, your eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

"Nothing," he says with a shrug, but you don't miss the humor glinting in his eyes. "You just used to be a lot more fun to celebrate with."

"Fuck you," you spit out, shoving his shoulder harder than you mean to. He barely budges, instead grabbing your hand and tugging you a few inches closer, and suddenly a wave of lust washes over you, making your breath hitch.

You press your thighs together under your dress, hoping he can't feel the heat spreading across your skin, but then his smile turns to a smirk and you know you're done for.

"What do you think?" he whispers, leaning in so close that his lips brush over your earlobe. "Want to celebrate?"

Molten lava pools in your gut and you are only peripherally aware of his hand sliding down your hips to the flowy edge of your dress. His fingers glide over your skin as his hand goes under the loose fabric, before rising up to grab your ass, drawing your hips flush with his.

Your arousal is already starting to soak through your panties, but the feeling of his hard bulge pressed up against you sends you flying back to reality.

You lift your hands to his chest and push him back so that he's a few steps away from you. It's not far enough, but at least you can't feel him from there. "I'm not fucking you, Art."

He shrugs, his smirk only slightly shaken. "Who said anything about fucking? I just wanted to talk."

You huff out a laugh. "You're funny. Besides, I'm too tired for this. I need to rest up before my match."

"What about tomorrow night then?" His lip is still curved up in a smirk, but there's an earnestness in his gaze that surprises you.

"What makes you think you'll still be here tomorrow?"

His mouth spreads into a wide smile. "I always win."

You snort. "Fine. Win your match and we can talk."

You don't miss the grin on his face as you climb into your car and leave.

***

You win your next match in straight sets again, so by the time you're out of the locker room, Art's match is still in play. Driven by a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, you head over to his court and find a seat halfway up the stands.

He has won two of three sets, and he's leading the fourth, so with the prospect of the match ending soon, you use the time to observe him from a different angle.

His form is much better than it was in college, and you've seen him play countless times on TV, but you haven't really let yourself see how good he looks out there. The sinewy muscles rippling in his arms as he lifts them to serve. The rugged sturdiness of his legs as he races back and forth across the court.

You wish you could be down there with him, running your hands over the smooth lines of his abdomen, tasting the drops of sweat as they roll down his body-

The crowd erupts in cheers, and you are thrust back into reality as Art throws his arms into the air with a loud whoop. The scoreboard confirms his victory, and you clap along with the audience as he shakes his opponent's hand and heads over to his chair.

People around you stand up to leave, but you stay in your seat, watching as he grabs his bag and stuffs his rackets inside. When he wipes a towel over his face, his head turns up and his eyes immediately go to you, like he knew you were here the whole time.

Your stomach does an involuntary flip and he flashes his eyebrows at you as you bit the inside of your lip, trying to hold back a smile.

When he ducks back down to grab his things, you stand up quickly to avoid letting him see your blush and follow the rest of the crowd off of the stands.

***

You hear it late that night. Three little raps on your hotel room door, just before midnight.

You're in the finals, and you don't have any friends here to celebrate with, so you were sipping a beer and watching old match recordings when you heard the knock.

There's no one else who would come to see you this late, so you're not surprised when you open the door to find Art, dressed in a tee shirt and comfy-looking pajama pants.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, even though you already know the answer.

Art just looks at you, his pupils already massive. "You said if I win, we could talk." He shrugs. "I won."

"Okay," you concede, opening the door wider to let him in. "Just talking then."

He nods, before following you inside and shutting the door.

"You want anything to drink?" you ask as he trails behind you.

He shakes his head. "I'm good."

You grab your beer bottle from the side table and sit down on the floor, crossing your legs beneath you.

Art sits across from you, his feet in front of him and his elbows on his knees. You were assigned to a modestly sized room, but for someone as tall as him, the space must feel cramped.

"How did the match feel?" you ask, taking a swig of beer.

He thinks for a moment. "It was close at first, but once I shook my legs out, it became a breeze."

"Your legs were never the problem," you say, leveling him with a serious look. "It was always your attitude. Or your confidence."

He frowns, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. "I'm plenty confident."

"You are now," you tell him as you swirl the bottle around in your hand. "You won Wimbledon, you have a reason to be confident."

That makes him smile. "So you're saying my legs are fine."

"Yeah," you say before you can process what you're saying. "You looked good out there."

His smile turns to a smirk so fast it nearly gives you whiplash. "You think I look good?"

You let out an exasperated scoff. "At tennis."

His grin doesn't falter so you roll your eyes at him before lifting the bottle to your lips to take another swig. When you tilt the bottle back down to swallow, his hand reaches forward to take it from you. Your grip on the beer doesn't loosen, so the motion sends you pitching forward.

Your mouth parts with a small yelp as his arm wraps around you, tugging you closer, and before you can process what's happening, his lips are on yours.

If you let yourself think too hard, you would realize that there is way too much shared history and way too much baggage here for this to be a good idea...so that's why you don't.

Instead, you let him pull your body flush against his and when his tongue slides over the seam of your lips, you grant him access immediately. Your shirts come off in quick succession and you gasp as his hands run up and down your body, his strong, calloused fingers grasping at every inch of purchase they can find. Yours reach up to tangle in his messy hair, and when his lips move down your neck, your grip tightens, making him moan quietly against your skin.

Something about being on the floor takes you back to your college days, when you'd both be so worked up after practice that you couldn't even make it to the bed, but that feels too real right now.

"Art," you whisper as he runs his lips and teeth over your neck, before replacing it with his tongue to soothe the quickly blossoming marks. "Art, the bed. Now."

It takes him a second to process your words, but when he does, he loops an arm around your waist and lifts you up and onto the bed in one motion, before pushing you back onto the covers.

By the time your head hits the bed, he's already pulling your shorts and panties down, exposing you to the cool air. His lips follow the path of his hands as they trace up your legs, making you squirm under the hot touch of his rough fingers. He presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs before spreading them apart and dropping to his knees on the floor in front of you.

"So wet for me," he whispers, almost to himself, before he dives in, his mouth making lewd noises as he licks a thick stripe up your core. "You taste so good."

He lifts your legs over his shoulders to give himself some leverage as he makes a mess between your thighs, licking and sucking your clit into his mouth before fucking you with his tongue.

His grip on your thighs is the only thing keeping you pinned to the bed as you writhe beneath him, trying to not squeeze your legs together from the heat spreading up your core.

His mouth feels amazing and it takes only minutes before you're already nearing the edge. You don't want to come until he is inside of you, though, so you yank his hair, pulling him up and off of you.

He looks up at you through his lashes, and he looks ethereal with his disheveled hair and his chin wet with your slick.

You, on the other hand, look like heaven itself with your eyes half-hooded from pleasure, and he can't help the grin that crosses his face as he licks his lips and climbs over you onto the bed. He lets you taste yourself as he kisses you again, and he lets out a low groan when you bite his lip just hard enough to sting.

"Fuck me," you gasp, your voice too breathy to be actually authoritative. "Fuck me the way I like."

Art grins at your desperate tone and the wild lust in your eyes, committing this image to memory for a later time when you're much further away.

He kicks his pants off as he lifts you both further up the bed, and after covering himself with a condom from his back pocket, he lines himself up and slowly pushes forward.

He gives you a few moments to adjust to his size before slowly pulling out nearly all the way and then thrusting in again.

The slight pain turns to pleasure almost immediately, but he keeps his pace steady so as not to hurt you. You need more right now, so you wrap your legs around him for leverage and flip him over so that you're straddling him.

He groans as his head hits the pillow, and when he tries to sit up, you press your hands to his chest, pushing him down as you ride him. This position gives you a lot more control, and you use it to your advantage as you bounce yourself on his cock, feeling the way he fills you up so fully from this higher angle.

His fingers dig into your hips as he helps lift you up and down, and his eyes are practically feral as he watches the spot where his cock disappears inside of you.

He's the perfect size to fill you up completely, and with each swivel of your hips, you get closer and closer to your climax, which is approaching so fast you can taste it.

You cry out when he hits exactly the right spot deep inside of you, and his eyes fly to yours as your movements start to stutter from your impending release.

Needing to see the look on your face when you come, he pushes your lower back forward so you fall against his chest, before lifting himself up to meet you halfway. With one arm locked around you, he brings his other hand down between the two of you to rub quick circles over your clit. The new angle lets him thrust up into you, and the increased pace of his movements mixed with the speed of his fingers sends you flying over the edge.

Your mouth falls open with a loud cry, and you squeeze him so tightly he's practically seeing stars. You look so beautiful when you come, like a goddess sent down here just for him, and when your eyes meet his, he finds his own climax.

His body jerks forward with the force of his release, and you let him thrust a few more times as he finally finishes inside of you.

After pulling out, he tugs you down to lay next to him, and at first you let him, but the emotions warring inside of you don't stay quiet for long.

You know that whatever this was isn't going to go anywhere. You didn't work in college, and you won't work now, and you don't want anyone to get hurt again, so you have to make a choice. Now.

"I need to get some rest," you say quietly, a tiny part of you hoping he doesn't hear you. "Before the next match."

"Yeah," he sighs after a beat. "Me too."

You let him hold you for a moment longer, before he unwraps himself from your body and sits up, tugging his shirt and pants back on. You tug the sheet back and wrap it around your torso as he stands up and walks to the door.

You're not sure what you're expecting as he goes to leave, but what you get is a silent nod as the door swings shut behind him.

[bratzkoo]

barely yours | mingyu pt. 2

Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: rockstar! mingyu x reader Word Count: 5.4k Genre: fluff, angst, smut-ish Rating: NC-17 (PG-13 for this chapter only) Possible Warnings: mingyu is an idiot, AGAIN. written in third person.

Summary: you flirt, you fuck, but when you hint that you want to be more he dismissed it as if you’re joking… and when you decide to ignore him he comes back with flowers at your doorstep.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): ​ @ca-clover, @junniesoleilkth , @gaslysainz , @darkerrdaze , @mansaaay , @childish-fear , @whoa-jo , @movingalongfrs

find other parts here! pt. 1 | pt.2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

Y/N felt her carefully constructed facade begin to crumble as she looked into Seungcheol's eyes. The lead vocalist and leader of HHT stood before her, his usually melodic voice now tight with concern and something that sounded like barely contained frustration.

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and urgent. "We need to talk about Mingyu."

She glanced around the hallway, acutely aware of the curious glances from passing employees. This was not a conversation she wanted to have in the middle of her father's company.

"Not here," she hissed, grabbing Seungcheol's arm and pulling him towards an empty conference room. Once inside, she closed the door and leaned against it, as if she could physically block out the complications that were piling up around her.

"What's going on?" Seungcheol demanded as soon as they were alone. "Mingyu showed up at our dorm this morning looking like he'd been hit by a truck. He's refusing to talk to anyone, and we have that radio interview in a few hours."

Y/N closed her eyes, guilt washing over her. She'd been so focused on protecting herself that she hadn't considered how her decision might affect the band. "I... we ended things," she admitted quietly.

Seungcheol's eyebrows shot up. "Ended things? I didn't realize there were 'things' to end. I thought you two were just..."

"Fooling around?" Y/N supplied bitterly. "Yeah, well, it turns out feelings don't always follow the rules we set for them."

Understanding dawned on Seungcheol's face, followed quickly by sympathy. "You fell for him."

It wasn't a question, but Y/N nodded anyway. "I did. And when I tried to talk to him about it, he made it clear that he didn't want anything more. So I ended it."

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, a habit he shared with Mingyu when he was stressed. "Shit, Y/N. This is... complicated."

"You think I don't know that?" Y/N snapped, then immediately regretted her tone. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't know what to do. And now my father wants me to take a more active role in managing you guys, and I-"

"Wait, what?" Seungcheol interrupted. "You're going to be our manager?"

Y/N shook her head. "Not exactly. He wants me to be more involved in the management side of things. Apparently, I 'understand your demographic' better than the older executives."

Seungcheol let out a low whistle. "Talk about adding fuel to the fire. How are you going to manage that with... everything else going on?"

"I have no idea," Y/N admitted, slumping into one of the conference room chairs. "I never wanted this, Cheol. Any of it. I was happy being the party girl, the CEO's wild child. It was easier."

Seungcheol took the seat next to her, his expression softening. "Maybe it was easier, but was it really what you wanted? Because the Y/N I know is smart, talented, and more than capable of handling whatever comes her way."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat at his words. It had been a long time since someone had seen her as more than just a pretty face or a potential scandal. "I'm scared," she whispered.

Seungcheol reached out, taking her hand in his. "It's okay to be scared. But you're not alone in this, Y/N. The band... we care about you. Both you and Mingyu."

At the mention of Mingyu's name, Y/N felt her heart clench. "How is he, really?"

Seungcheol sighed. "He's hurting. I've never seen him like this before. Whatever was between you two... I don't think it was as casual for him as he let on."

Y/N's head snapped up, hope and confusion warring in her chest. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Seungcheol said carefully, "that maybe you two need to have an actual conversation. One where you both be honest about your feelings."

"I tried that," Y/N protested. "He laughed it off."

"And you immediately ended things instead of pushing the issue," Seungcheol pointed out gently. "Look, I'm not taking sides here. You're both my friends. But I think there's more to this story than either of you are seeing right now."

Y/N wanted to argue, to defend her decision. But a small part of her wondered if Seungcheol might be right. Had she been too hasty? Too afraid of rejection to really hear what Mingyu was saying – or not saying?

Before she could respond, Seungcheol's phone buzzed. He glanced at it and grimaced. "That's our manager. I need to go wrangle the guys for this interview." He stood, then hesitated. "Y/N, promise me you'll think about what I said. And maybe... maybe come to our studio session tomorrow? We could use your input on some of the new tracks."

Y/N nodded, not trusting herself to speak. As Seungcheol reached the door, she found her voice. "Cheol? Thank you. For everything."

He flashed her a warm smile. "That's what friends are for. Just... don't let fear make your decisions for you, okay?"

As the door closed behind him, Y/N leaned back in her chair, her mind whirling. She'd thought ending things with Mingyu would simplify her life, but it seemed to have done the exact opposite. Now she had a broken heart, a new job she wasn't sure she wanted, and the possibility that she'd misunderstood everything about her relationship with Mingyu.

Her phone buzzed, and she looked down to see a message from her father:

"Meeting with HHT's team tomorrow at 10 AM. Be there."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Tomorrow, she would have to face Mingyu, the band, and her new responsibilities all at once. She wasn't sure if she was ready, but she knew she didn't have a choice.

As she left the conference room and made her way out of the building, Y/N made a decision. She would go to the studio session tomorrow, as Seungcheol had suggested. She would face her fears head-on.

And maybe, just maybe, she would find the courage to have that honest conversation with Mingyu. Because if there was even a chance that he felt the same way...

Well, that was a risk she might just be willing to take.

-

Y/N stood outside the studio door, her hand hovering over the handle. She could hear muffled voices and the faint strains of music from inside. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down her blazer and steeled herself. Today, she wasn't Hwang Y/N, the party girl with a broken heart. She was Hwang Y/N, the professional, here to do a job.

With that thought firmly in mind, she pushed open the door.

The chatter inside the studio immediately died down as she entered. Five pairs of eyes turned to her, but she only allowed herself to focus on one – Seungcheol's. He gave her a small, encouraging nod.

"Good morning, everyone," Y/N said, proud of how steady her voice sounded. "I hope you don't mind, but I'll be sitting in on your session today. My father thinks it would be beneficial for me to have a more hands-on role in the creative process."

She deliberately avoided looking at Mingyu, who she could sense was staring at her intently from his position by the guitar rack.

Vernon was the first to break the awkward silence. "Cool, always good to have a fresh pair of ears. We're working on the bridge for the title track. Want to hear what we've got so far?"

Y/N nodded gratefully, taking a seat next to the sound engineer. As the music started playing, she allowed herself to get lost in the melody, analyzing the composition and arrangement. This, at least, was familiar territory. She'd always had a good ear for music, even if she'd never pursued it professionally.

As the song progressed, she found herself nodding along, impressed by the intricate harmonies and the way Seungcheol's powerful vocals blended with the instrumental. But something was off in the bridge – the guitar riff didn't quite mesh with the rest of the arrangement.

When the song ended, Y/N cleared her throat. "That was great, guys. Really solid work. But I think the bridge needs some tweaking. The guitar part feels a bit... disjointed."

She saw Mingyu stiffen out of the corner of her eye, but she kept her gaze fixed on Seungcheol.

"What do you suggest?" Wonwoo asked, leaning forward with interest.

Y/N bit her lip, considering. "Maybe if we simplified the riff a bit? Something that complements Seungcheol's vocals rather than competing with them."

There was a moment of silence, and then Mingyu spoke for the first time. "And what would you know about composing guitar parts?"

His tone was cold, almost challenging. Y/N finally allowed herself to look at him, keeping her expression neutral despite the way her heart raced at the sight of him. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes, but still unfairly handsome.

"I may not be a guitarist," Y/N replied evenly, "but I know what sounds good. And right now, that bridge doesn't flow with the rest of the song."

Mingyu opened his mouth to argue, but Seungcheol cut him off. "She's right, Gyu. I was thinking the same thing, but I couldn't put my finger on why it wasn't working. Let's try simplifying it."

For a moment, it looked like Mingyu might argue further. But then he shrugged, turning back to his guitar. "Fine. Let's hear your ideas then, Y/N."

The way he said her name, like it left a bitter taste in his mouth, made Y/N wince internally. But she pushed through, working with the band to refine the bridge. To her surprise, once they got past the initial awkwardness, the creative process flowed smoothly. Even Mingyu, despite his obvious reluctance, contributed valuable ideas.

As the hours passed, Y/N found herself relaxing into her role. She offered suggestions on vocal arrangements, helped fine-tune lyrics, and even hummed out a melody idea that Vernon quickly turned into a catchy hook for their b-side track.

It wasn't until their manager called for a lunch break that the comfortable bubble of creativity burst. As the others filed out of the studio, chatting about where to grab food, Y/N hung back, gathering her notes. She was so focused on avoiding being alone with Mingyu that she didn't notice Seungcheol had stayed behind until he spoke.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Y/N looked up, offering him a small smile. "No, it wasn't. You guys are incredibly talented. It's... it's an honor to work with you like this."

Seungcheol's expression softened. "You're good at this, Y/N. Really good. Have you ever thought about pursuing music production?"

She shook her head. "Not really. It was always just a hobby. Besides, my father has other plans for me."

"Maybe it's time to make your own plans," Seungcheol suggested gently. Then, after a pause, "Mingyu was watching you, you know. When you weren't looking."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to shrug nonchalantly. "We have to work together now. It's bound to be awkward for a while."

Seungcheol looked like he wanted to say more, but just then, the studio door opened and Mingyu walked in, stopping short when he saw them.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Forgot my phone."

The tension in the room was palpable as Mingyu retrieved his phone from beside his guitar. Y/N kept her eyes fixed on her notes, hyper-aware of his every movement.

As he turned to leave, Mingyu paused. "The bridge sounds better now," he said stiffly, not quite looking at Y/N. "Good call."

Before she could respond, he was gone, the door closing firmly behind him.

Y/N let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "This is going to be harder than I thought," she admitted quietly.

Seungcheol squeezed her shoulder supportively. "Give it time. And maybe... maybe try talking to him? Outside of work?"

Y/N shook her head firmly. "No. It's better this way. Clean break, professional distance. It's the only way this can work."

As they left the studio to join the others for lunch, Y/N repeated those words in her head like a mantra. Professional distance. It was the right thing to do.

So why did it feel so wrong? -

The atmosphere in the practice room was thick with tension, the usual easy banter replaced by an uncomfortable silence broken only by the sound of instruments being tuned. Seungcheol watched as Mingyu stole yet another glance at Y/N, who was studiously avoiding eye contact as she reviewed some paperwork in the corner. The leader of HHT sighed inwardly, knowing that something had to give.

For weeks now, Seungcheol had noticed the change in dynamics between Mingyu and Y/N. The playful flirtation that had once been a constant source of amusement (and occasional exasperation) for the band had vanished, replaced by awkward silences and stilted interactions. It was more than just personal drama – it was affecting the band's chemistry, and as the leader, Seungcheol knew he had to do something.

"Alright, let's take it from the top," Seungcheol called out, hoping that focusing on the music might alleviate some of the tension.

As they launched into their latest single, Seungcheol couldn't help but notice how Mingyu's usually flawless guitar work seemed off. The tall guitarist kept missing cues, his rhythm slightly out of sync with the rest of the band. Every time this happened, Mingyu's eyes would dart to Y/N, as if seeking her reaction, only to quickly look away when he realized she wasn't even watching.

Y/N, for her part, seemed determined to focus solely on her work. She sat in the corner, ostensibly reviewing marketing reports, but Seungcheol noticed how her pen hadn't moved on the page for the past ten minutes. Every now and then, when she thought no one was looking, her gaze would flicker to Mingyu, a mixture of longing and hurt in her eyes.

After an hour of subpar practice, Seungcheol called for a break. As the other members dispersed, grabbing water bottles and checking their phones, he pulled Vernon and Wonwoo aside.

"We need to talk about the Mingyu-Y/N situation," he said in a low voice, guiding them to a quiet corner of the room.

Vernon nodded, relief evident on his face. "Thank god someone said it. The tension is killing me. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells every time they're in the same room."

Wonwoo frowned, his usually calm demeanor showing signs of strain. "It's affecting our performance too. Did you hear Mingyu during that bridge? I've never heard him miss those notes before."

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, a habit he'd picked up when stressed. "I know. That's why we need to do something. I have an idea, but I'm going to need your help."

As Seungcheol outlined his plan, Vernon's eyes widened in disbelief while Wonwoo's narrowed in thought.

"Fake dating?" Vernon whispered, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Mingyu wasn't within earshot. "Isn't that a bit… I don't know, dramatic?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "Maybe. But subtle hasn't been working. Those two are too stubborn for their own good. Sometimes you need to fight fire with fire."

Wonwoo nodded slowly. "It could work. But are you sure Y/N will agree to it?"

"Leave Y/N to me," Seungcheol said, a determined glint in his eye. "For now, I need you two to help set the stage. Can I count on you?"

Both Vernon and Wonwoo nodded, though Vernon still looked a bit uncertain. As they broke apart, returning to their instruments, none of them noticed Mingyu watching them with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

Later that week, Y/N was working late in her office, the soft glow of her desk lamp the only light in the room. She rubbed her eyes, tired from staring at spreadsheets all day. As she reached for her coffee mug, a soft knock on the door made her jump.

"Come in," she called, straightening up in her chair.

Seungcheol poked his head in, an unusually serious expression on his face. "Got a minute?"

Y/N nodded, gesturing for him to sit. "What's up, Cheol? Is everything okay with the band?"

Seungcheol settled into the chair across from her, his usually relaxed posture tense. "Yes and no. The band is fine, but… well, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Y/N felt a knot form in her stomach. She had a feeling she knew where this was going. "If this is about Mingyu-"

"It is," Seungcheol cut in gently. "But not in the way you might think. I have a… proposition for you."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "I'm listening."

Seungcheol took a deep breath. "Look, we've all noticed the tension between you two. It's affecting the band, and frankly, I hate seeing you both so miserable."

"I'm not-" Y/N started to protest, but Seungcheol held up a hand.

"Y/N, come on. We've known each other too long for that. You're not happy, and neither is Mingyu. But you're both too stubborn to do anything about it."

Y/N slumped back in her chair, the fight going out of her. "What am I supposed to do, Cheol? He made it clear he doesn't want anything serious. I can't keep putting myself out there just to get hurt again."

Seungcheol leaned forward, his eyes intense. "What if we gave Mingyu a taste of his own medicine? What if… we pretended to date?"

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "What? Cheol, that's crazy. Why would we-"

"To make Mingyu jealous," Seungcheol interrupted. "Look, I've known Mingyu for years. He's stubborn and proud, but he cares about you. A lot. I think seeing you with someone else might be the push he needs to confront his feelings."

Y/N bit her lip, considering. The idea was tempting, but… "But what about the band? And my position? Wouldn't it complicate things even more?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "Maybe. But it could also solve our Mingyu problem. Plus, it might help deflect some of the pressure from your dad about taking things seriously. Dating the lead singer of HHT? That's a power move in the industry."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at that. "You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"I care about both of you," Seungcheol said sincerely. "And I hate seeing you two dance around each other like this. So, what do you say? Want to be my fake girlfriend?"

After a moment of hesitation, Y/N nodded. "Okay. Let's do it. But we need to set some ground rules…"

Over the next few days, Seungcheol and Y/N put their plan into action. They started small - sitting closer during meetings, sharing inside jokes, leaving together after practice. The other band members, clued in by Seungcheol, played along perfectly.

Vernon, ever the actor, would waggle his eyebrows suggestively whenever he saw them together. Wonwoo, more subtle in his approach, would casually mention how much time Seungcheol and Y/N had been spending together lately.

Mingyu, however, was oblivious to the plan. At first, he barely seemed to notice the change in dynamics. He was too caught up in his own thoughts, alternating between trying to figure out what had gone wrong with Y/N and convincing himself he didn't care.

But as the days passed, little things started to catch his attention. The way Seungcheol's hand would linger on Y/N's back as they walked into a room. The inside jokes they seemed to share, leaving the rest of the group puzzled. The fact that Y/N was suddenly at every practice session, even when she didn't need to be.

During one particularly grueling practice, Mingyu fumbled a guitar riff he'd played perfectly a hundred times before. His eyes were fixed on Y/N, who was laughing at something Seungcheol had whispered in her ear. The sound of her laughter, once a source of joy for Mingyu, now felt like a knife twisting in his gut.

"Dude, you okay?" Vernon asked, concern evident in his voice.

Mingyu shook his head, trying to clear it. "Yeah, just… distracted."

Vernon followed Mingyu's gaze to where Seungcheol and Y/N were huddled together, looking at something on Y/N's phone. "They've been spending a lot of time together lately, huh?" he said, his tone carefully neutral.

Mingyu grunted noncommittally, but his grip on his guitar tightened. "I guess. Not that it's any of my business."

Vernon raised an eyebrow at that but didn't push further. As they resumed practice, he exchanged a meaningful look with Wonwoo. Their plan was working, perhaps a little too well.

As the days turned into weeks, Mingyu's mood grew increasingly sour. He snapped at staff members over minor mistakes, isolated himself during breaks, and threw himself into his music with an almost manic intensity. His songwriting, always emotionally charged, took on a darker, more melancholic tone.

One evening, after a particularly tense practice session, Wonwoo found Mingyu alone in the studio, furiously scribbling in his notebook.

"New song?" Wonwoo asked, settling into a chair nearby.

Mingyu nodded without looking up. "Yeah. It's… it's about letting go of something you never really had."

Wonwoo's eyebrows shot up at that. "Sounds heavy. Want to talk about it?"

For a moment, it looked like Mingyu might open up. But then he shook his head, slamming the notebook shut. "It's nothing. Just… exploring some new themes."

As Mingyu stood to leave, Wonwoo called out, "You know, if something's bothering you, you can talk to us. We're not just your bandmates, we're your friends."

Mingyu paused at the door, his back to Wonwoo. "I know," he said softly. "But some things… some things you have to figure out on your own."

With that, he was gone, leaving Wonwoo to wonder if perhaps their plan was causing more harm than good.

The situation finally came to a head at a company party celebrating HHT's latest album going platinum. The event was in full swing, the cream of the K-pop industry mingling in a high-end Seoul nightclub.

Mingyu arrived late, his hair disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. He'd spent hours agonizing over whether to attend, knowing Y/N would be there. In the end, his pride (and a strongly worded text from their manager) had won out.

He froze in the doorway as he spotted Y/N and Seungcheol on the dance floor. Y/N was wearing a stunning red dress that hugged her curves, her hair swept up to reveal the graceful line of her neck. Seungcheol, looking handsome in a well-fitted suit, had his hand on her waist as they moved in perfect sync to the music.

Something snapped inside Mingyu. He stormed over to the bar, downing a shot of soju before grabbing another. As he watched Y/N throw her head back in laughter at something Seungcheol said, a series of memories flashed through Mingyu's mind:

Y/N's shy smile the first time they met at a company event. The electricity he felt the first time they kissed, hidden away in a dark corner of a after-party. Late nights spent talking about their dreams and fears, sharing parts of themselves they'd never shown anyone else. The way Y/N's eyes lit up when she listened to his new songs, always the first to offer genuine feedback and encouragement.

And then, more recent memories: The hurt in Y/N's eyes when he'd laughed off her suggestion of something more serious. The growing distance between them, a chasm he hadn't known how to bridge. The ache he felt every time he saw her now, an ache he'd tried to ignore, to rationalize away as mere physical attraction.

But seeing her now, radiant and happy in another man's arms, Mingyu could no longer deny the truth. He was in love with Y/N. Truly, madly, deeply, irrevocably in love. And he might have just lost her to his best friend.

The realization hit him like a physical blow. The glass in Mingyu's hand shattered, startling nearby partygoers. Blood dripped from his palm, but he barely noticed. All he could see was Y/N, beautiful and radiant, looking at Seungcheol with an affection that used to be reserved for him.

As staff rushed to tend to his injured hand, Mingyu's eyes met Y/N's across the room. The concern in her gaze was almost more than he could bear. In that moment, Mingyu knew he had to fight for her, to tell her how he really felt, before it was too late.

But first, he had some serious groveling to do. And maybe, just maybe, a chance to turn his pain into the most heartfelt song he'd ever written.

As he allowed himself to be led away for medical attention, Mingyu's mind was already racing with lyrics, a melody forming that he hoped would convey everything he'd been too afraid to say. He'd messed up, pushed away the best thing in his life out of fear and stubbornness. But if there was even a chance that Y/N still cared for him, he'd move heaven and earth to win her back.

Little did Mingyu know, across the room, Y/N was fighting every instinct to run to him, her heart breaking at the pain evident in his eyes. As Seungcheol squeezed her hand reassuringly, Y/N wondered if their plan had worked a little too well. -

Y/N went home to her apartment. She sat curled up on her couch, a glass of wine in hand, trying to process the events of the evening. The company party had not gone as planned – the image of Mingyu's pain-filled eyes as he clutched his bleeding hand was seared into her memory.

Y/N's phone buzzed for the umpteenth time. Another message from Seungcheol:

"Are you sure you're okay? I can come over if you need to talk."

She sighed, typing out a quick reply:

"I'm fine. Just need some time to think. Talk tomorrow?"

As she hit send, a loud, insistent knocking startled her. Y/N glanced at the clock – 1:37 AM. Who could it be at this hour?

The knocking continued, more urgently now. "Y/N! Y/N, I know you're in there! Please… please open up."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She'd recognize that voice anywhere, even slurred as it was now. Mingyu.

Hesitantly, she made her way to the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it to find Mingyu leaning heavily against the doorframe, his usually impeccable appearance in disarray. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, hair a mess, and the unmistakable smell of soju wafted from him.

"Mingyu?" Y/N said, shock evident in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

Mingyu's eyes, glassy from alcohol, focused on her face. A lopsided smile spread across his features. "Y/N… beautiful Y/N. I had to see you. Had to tell you…"

He stumbled forward, nearly falling. Y/N instinctively reached out to steady him, the familiar warmth of his body sending a jolt through her.

"Woah, easy there," she said, guiding him inside and closing the door. "Mingyu, you're drunk. You shouldn't be here."

Mingyu allowed himself to be led to the couch, collapsing onto it with a heavy sigh. "I know, I know. 'm not supposed to be here. But I couldn't… couldn't stop thinking about you. About us."

Y/N perched on the edge of the coffee table, facing him. Despite her better judgment, concern overtook her resolve to keep her distance. "Mingyu, what's going on? Are you okay? Your hand–"

Mingyu waved dismissively, wincing slightly at the movement. His palm was wrapped in a white bandage, a few spots of red seeping through. "It's nothing. Doesn't hurt. Not like…" he trailed off, his eyes growing sad.

"Not like what?" Y/N prompted gently.

"Not like seeing you with him," Mingyu finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N felt her heart clench. This was exactly the reaction their fake dating scheme was meant to provoke, but seeing Mingyu in actual pain made her question the wisdom of their plan.

"Mingyu, I–"

"No, let me… let me say this," Mingyu interrupted, sitting up straighter and fixing Y/N with an intense gaze. "I messed up, Y/N. I messed up so bad. I thought… I thought I could handle seeing you with someone else. Thought it didn't matter. But it does. It matters so much."

He reached out, taking Y/N's hands in his. She knew she should pull away, but found herself frozen, captivated by the raw emotion in Mingyu's eyes.

"I miss you," Mingyu continued, his thumbs tracing circles on her palms. "I miss your laugh, your smile. The way you scrunch up your nose when you're concentrating. I miss the way you make me feel – like I'm more than just a idol, more than just a pretty face or a good voice. With you, I'm just… me."

Y/N felt tears pricking at her eyes. This was everything she had wanted to hear for so long, but the circumstances were all wrong. "Mingyu, you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."

Mingyu shook his head vehemently, then immediately looked like he regretted the motion. "No, no. I'm drunk, yes. But I know… I know what I feel. What I've always felt, even if I was too scared to admit it."

He slid off the couch, landing on his knees in front of Y/N. In any other situation, it might have been comical, but the desperation in his eyes killed any urge to laugh.

"Please, Y/N," Mingyu pleaded, still clutching her hands. "Please give me another chance. Break up with Seungcheol. He's… he's my friend, but he's not right for you. Not like I am. We're… we're meant to be together. I see that now."

Y/N felt panic rising in her chest. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Mingyu wasn't supposed to show up at her door, drunk and emotional, laying his heart bare. She wasn't prepared for this.

"Mingyu, listen to me," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "You're not thinking clearly. We can't… I can't…"

But Mingyu wasn't listening. His eyes had taken on a glassy, unfocused look. "I'll do better this time, I promise. I'll… I'll write you songs. Take you on real dates. Show the whole world how much you mean to me. Just please… please don't leave me."

His impassioned speech was interrupted by a wide yawn. The adrenaline and alcohol seemed to be wearing off, leaving exhaustion in their wake.

"I love you, Y/N," Mingyu mumbled, his head drooping. "I love you so much. Please… please just…"

And with that, Mingyu slumped forward, his head coming to rest in Y/N's lap. Within seconds, soft snores filled the air.

Y/N sat frozen, her mind reeling. Mingyu's words echoed in her head, everything she had longed to hear for months. But was it real? Or just the ramblings of a drunk, jealous man?

Gently, she extricated herself from under Mingyu, laying him out on the couch and covering him with a throw blanket. She allowed herself a moment to study his face, peaceful in sleep, before retreating to her bedroom.

As she lay in bed, sleep eluding her, Y/N's thoughts were a jumbled mess. The fake dating plan had worked – perhaps too well. Mingyu had confessed his feelings, but at what cost? And what would happen in the morning, when he woke up in her apartment with a killer hangover and the memory of his whiskey-soaked confessions?

One thing was clear: the game they'd been playing had just gotten a lot more complicated. And Y/N had a sinking feeling that someone's heart was bound to get broken in the process – quite possibly her own.

[augustinewrites]

what are reader’s thoughts about gojo’s black shirt look (similar to what we see in jjk 221) aka what does she think of that bod (＾▽＾)

afternoons were busy, in your experience. the school was awake and alive with energy, bodies moving to and fro as they worked through the day's tasks.

at this time, just after lunch, people typically stopped by your office. whether it was megumi stopping by for a reprieve from his larger than life friends, shoko coming to drag you out for a late lunch, or gojo coming to sprawl himself out on your couch.

so when the sun is high in the sky and no one has come to bother you, you're a little concerned.

when you inquire principal yaga about this, he says he'd last seen nanami headed towards the training grounds. naturally, that's the first place you go. surely he can help you round up your students and their other teacher.

when you arrive at the training grounds, you're surprised to see the first and second year students gathered there, including shoko, watching something just out of your periphery.

"what are you guys doing?" you ask, catching shoko's attention.

she simply gestures to the main area. "sight-seeing."

"sight-seeing?" you frown. "this is the training grounds."

"i know."

you follow her line of sight, curious to see what's gotten everyone's attention.

oh.

the summer breeze combined with the afternoon sun seems to have prompted nanami and gojo to shed a few layers of clothing as they sparred. nanami's abandoned his blazer, the sleeves of his blue dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, and the topmost buttons undone.

gojo's thrown his jacket aside, leaving him in a nicely fitted black t-shirt.

wordlessly, you lower yourself to sit next to shoko.

with his loose-fitting uniform, it was easy to forget how brawny your fiancé was. now you could see everything. broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waist and long legs.

he's handling himself in hand-to-hand combat against nanami with ease, footwork practiced and posture immaculate. his body is tight, muscular, rigid. the tension of his toned biceps just right as he swings at the blond. he smirks when it connects and the sorcerer is knocked backward a few steps. it's horribly attractive.

"hey," shoko interrupts your daydreaming when she nudges you. "did you need something?"

you're too busy tracking a drop of sweat rolling down the side of gojo's throat to recall. "i don't remember."

you can't really focus when he's panting like that, chest heaving and tongue darting out to glide across his bottom lip. he grunts with the effort of deflecting a hit, his muscles flexing as he maneuvers his torso to avoid a follow up. when his shirt rides up, you absolutely don't think about where that white trail of hair below his navel leads, heat pooling in your gut as--

"why aren't you both working?"

you both jump as if you'd been caught doing something illegal as principal yaga steps in front of you, arms crossed.

"sorry, sir," you apologize, bowing your head as your face heats up.

_____

gojo is equal parts confused and aroused when he steps into your office and you immediately lock the door behind him. this may or may not have been the beginning of a fantasy of his.

“noticed you oogling me earlier,” he smirks. then he pauses, thinking. “or is it ogling? am i saying it right?”

“satoru?”

“yeah babe?”

“shut up.”

he's half convinced this is a fantasy when you grab the front of his shirt and pull him close, hungrily pressing your lips to his.

he goes to lift them hem of his shirt up, but you stop him, muttering,

keep it on.

well, he thinks as you trail kisses down the column of his throat.

if you say so.

[astrxq]

a new morning routine

ethan landry x fem!reader

words: 4.6k

notes: this took me sooo long to write and i don't even know if i like it, but finally an ethan fic!! who cheered? :)

Ethan knew that Chad jogged every morning when the sun was barely out. Chad was a very loud roommate, and Ethan had become all too familiar with his daily routine. It began with the blaring of Chad's alarm at the crack of dawn, a noise that could wake the dead.

Ethan would groan and bury his head under the pillow, futilely attempting to block out the sound. But it didn't stop there. As if the alarm wasn’t enough, Chad would often sing softly to himself as he tied his running shoes and stretched on the porch, a tune that Ethan couldn't help but find annoying at such an ungodly hour. The creaking of the front door followed as Chad made his way out, trying not to wake Ethan and failing miserably.

Ethan grew curious to know who Chad ran with. He knew he didn't go by himself; he'd heard Chad talk to someone before closing the door and going on with his routine many times.

One morning, Ethan was awoken by Chad's coughing fit rather than his annoyingly loud alarm. Chad's raspy coughs echoed through the apartment, and Ethan sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and listening intently as he tiredly made his way to the small living room, where he saw Chad sitting on the couch, clutching a tissue in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.

"Are you okay?"

Chad looked up, his face pale and sweaty. "Yeah, just a little under the weather," he replied, his voice hoarse. "I think I caught a cold.” Ethan fetched a blanket from the closet and draped it over Chad's shoulders as he plopped down on the couch. "You really shouldn't be going for a run like this,"

Ethan would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous of Chad, the boy who had been near death twice and survived. Chad refused to move from his bed weeks after being healed from the stab wounds, thinking he would not be able to return to his older, much less butchered, body. He’d watched Chad get carried away by an ambulance, breaths away from death, just a few months before.

During one of their many one-nighters together, Chad confessed that he envied Ethan’s body, with no scars and a much more healthy disposition. And Ethan secretly shared the thought, Chad's resilience and determination to continue jogging even after everything he'd been through.

And still, looking at Chad's frail and sickly state now, Ethan couldn't help but feel sympathy for him. Chad had faced death head-on, and now, he was battling a simple cold, but it was clear that he was still pushing himself too hard. 

“Want some soup?” he asked, and Chad gave him a small smile and a soft nod, eyes grateful. 

Ethan wasn’t a very good cook, so when he saw that they’d run out of canned soup, he saw no other option than going to buy some more, hoping that some store was open so early. He checked on his friend again, seeing that he was fast asleep on the couch, cuddled up to the blanket. The sound of the blaring alarm hit Ethan's ears and he rushed into Chad's room to turn it off before it woke him up. Ethan quickly silenced it before changing into one of his hoodies and moving to head out.

When he opened the door, though, he locked eyes with you. Ethan froze in the doorway, surprised to find you standing there, he knew you were a neighbor, one that he’d been crushing on for a while.  In the dim light of the hallway, you looked equally startled.

Your presence was unexpected, but it also presented a chance for Ethan to make a good impression. He cleared his throat and managed a friendly smile. 

"Hey," you said, breaking the silence. "I'm sorry if I startled you. I usually come over to meet Chad for our morning run." Ethan nodded, still a bit taken aback. 

"I'm Ethan, Chad's roommate." he admitted, his voice tinged with curiosity. 

You extended a hand, and he shook it awkwardly, not really knowing how to speak to you yet. "Nice to finally meet you, Ethan. I'm Y/N."

Ethan noticed that you were dressed in running gear and holding a water bottle. It was clear you had come prepared for your morning jog with Chad. “Uh… Chad’s sick.”

Your concern was evident as you furrowed your brow. "Sick? That's not like him. Is it serious?" Ethan shrugged, still not entirely sure of the extent of Chad's illness. "I'm not sure, but he's got a pretty bad cough. I convinced him to stay in today."

You nodded understandingly. "Well, I hope he gets better soon. Tell him I stopped by and that I hope to see him back on his feet soon." 

"I will," You gave him a warm smile, making Ethan's heart skip a beat. "No problem, Ethan. If you ever want to join us for a run, feel free to tag along. We usually meet here in the mornings." Ethan felt a surge of excitement at the invitation, but he tried to play it cool. 

"I might take you up on that sometime." 

You gave him a nod, and he mirrored your silence as both of you thought of how to continue the conversation. Ethan couldn't help but feel a rush of nervousness wash through him. Here was the neighbor he had been secretly admiring for a while, standing right in front of him, offering an invitation to join her and Chad for a morning run. He had seen you from a distance many times but never had a chance to strike up a conversation.

As you both stood there, trying to find something to say, Ethan's mind raced with questions and topics to discuss. He finally broke the silence, realizing that this was his opportunity to get to know you better. "I was gonna… go get some soup for him, so…" he pulled at his ear lobe.

“Right, I won’t hold you up then.” you grinned, giving him a small wave before beginning to walk away, hands undoing your tangled earbuds. He watched you walk away, and waited a few seconds to put himself together. Quickly, he locked the door behind him and rushed to the nearest store to buy some soup for Chad.

When he returned to the apartment, Chad was still asleep on the couch, the blanket had moved off of him. Ethan quietly set the bag of soup on the kitchen counter and tiptoed over to Chad. He gently covered him with the blanket. Chad stirred in his sleep but didn't wake up.��

The next day, Ethan was woken up by that horrifying alarm once again, and he heard Chad’s singing again. He quickly stumbled off of his bed, walking through the dark, and when he reached Chad, he said “Hey man, can I join you today?”

His request caught Chad by surprise as he laced up his running shoes. He knew Ethan wasn’t a runner. He turned to face Ethan with a grin, his earlier sickness seemingly forgotten. "Sure, but are you sure you can keep up with me?"

Ethan chuckled nervously, “I’ll try.”

He followed Chad to the door, and there you were. You were leaning against the wall, water bottle in hand once again. “Oh, Ethan!” you exclaimed when you saw his distinct curls. "Joining us?"

Ethan felt a mix of excitement and nerves as he stood there, realizing he was about to go on a morning jog with both you and Chad. "Yeah, I thought I'd give it a shot," he replied, trying to sound way more confident than he felt.

You smiled warmly at him, and Chad chimed in with a smirk, "Great! The more, the merrier, right?"

Ethan was a few steps behind you and Chad, trying so hard to focus on keeping up with you two. He could feel his ears get cold because of the breeze, and he could hear you and Chad talking. You glanced back a few times, checking on Ethan, and he kept grinning and giving you a thumbs up, pretending not to be running out of breath. 

He felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when he heard you laugh, you threw your head back in a giggle and Chad joined you. Ethan had to slow down his pace, and he wondered if it was possible for you to like Chad.

Ethan couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as he listened to your laughter. He came to a full stop, needing to catch his breath before trying to keep up with you and Chad. Just a few feet ahead, you turned to check on the curly haired boy once again, seeing that he had stopped, you did too. 

“You okay, Ethan?”

“Huh?” he looked up, hands on his knees as he panted, “Yeah, yeah. Just out of practice.” he chuckled.

Ethan's chest heaved as he regained his breath, feeling slightly embarrassed about his sudden stop. You moved a couple steps towards him, handing him your water bottle with a smile “Do you wanna stop for a bit?”

He nodded and as he took a sip, he couldn't help but feel grateful for your consideration. Chad, standing nearby, gave Ethan an encouraging pat on the back.

"You're doing great, man," Chad said as he shot him a supportive smile. Ethan forced himself to regain his composure, determined not to let his jealousy get the best of him. He took a deep breath and handed the water bottle back to you with a grateful nod.

"Thanks, Y/N. I just needed a moment," he replied, wiping sweat from his forehead. The few curls that stuck on his forehead now slightly pushed back. “Let’s just keep going.” he insisted.

You hesitated, seeing that Ethan’s face was flushed red, and that his chest was still heaving from breathing so hard. Chad got ahead, and once you caught up to him, he slowed to meet Ethan’s pace, “You’re so red, dude.”

“What?”

“Your face, are you sure you wanna keep going?”

Ethan reached to touch his cheek, feeling it cold under his touch, “Oh, I’m fine.” Chad smirked and looked at you as you changed the song playing in your ears, “You sure it’s not because of her?”

His cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, this time because of embarrassement, and he stammered, "N-no, it's not because of her. I just need to catch my breath, that's all." Chad chuckled knowingly, and patted his friend’s back.

You glanced back at Ethan with concern in your eyes but decided not to press the issue either. Instead, you offered a smile. He was grateful he had Chad next to him to follow his pace, because if he had been on his own, he was sure he’d fainted because of you.

Once back at the apartment, you bid your goodbyes from the boys, and the second the door was closed, Chad jumped to make fun of Ethan. “You looked like you were going to explode! Don’t even try to convince me it was because of the running.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Ethan plopped down on the couch, face covered by his hands as Chad laughed. “Come on! I’m not stupid, you were practically blushing the entire time." he teased, nudging him playfully. 

Ethan peeked through his fingers, his cheeks still rosy. "Okay, maybe," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "But can you blame me?"

Chad's laughter subsided, and he nodded in agreement and leaned back on the couch, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You know," he began, "I've been friends with Y/N for a while now. We've been jogging together for months, and we've become pretty close. I think you two would get along really well."

Ethan's curiosity piqued. "Really? You think so?"

Chad grinned, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Oh, absolutely.”

The teasing didn't stop, of course. Whenever you would come over for a morning run or to check on Chad, he would nudge Ethan and raise an eyebrow, prompting a fresh wave of embarrassment for his friend.

He would sometimes pretend to be tying his shoes, or needing a water break, and urged the two of you to keep going without him. Ethan made sure to always shoot him a glare while you weren’t looking, getting a toothy grin in response.

You noticed that Ethan didn’t really talk. He would glance at you, trying to think of what to say, and then crumbled back into his little shy boy bubble. He silently cursed at himself every time he saw you look up at him, almost as if you were waiting for him to talk. It took Chad three times leaving you two alone before you broke the silence, 

“Chad talks a lot about you,” 

“He does?” Ethan seemed surprised, keeping in mind to thank his roommate once they were alone for kind of pushing his ‘matchmaking’ agenda. “Oh, yeah. All the time.”

“Good things, I hope?” he pulled at his ear lobe like he did when he was nervous, you chuckled, finding Ethan's nervousness endearing. 

"Oh, absolutely. He thinks the world of you." You slowed your pace a bit so you could walk alongside him, and Ethan's heart did a little somersault in his chest.

"That's nice to hear," he replied, a small smile playing on his lips. You hummed, looking back to see Chad smirking at you, winking before fixing the headphones that covered his ears. 

“Uhm,” you started, “To be honest, I thought you’d be more like Chad?” 

Ethan raised his brows in confusion. How on earth could he be intimidating? You stopped running, moving to sit on a nearby bench to fix your shoelaces, and he joined you. “What do you mean?”

Chad caught up to you guys before you could answer, his panting joining yours. You exchanged a quick glance with Chad, and he grinned knowingly, clearly enjoying leaving you two on your own.

You and Ethan exchanged a slightly awkward yet amused look, and then you turned back to Chad, smirking. "Well, Chad, you didn't mention how different you two are. I was expecting another chatty, outgoing roommate." you joked.

Chad laughed heartily. "Yeah, Ethan's the quiet one, but he's got his own charm. Trust me."

Ethan blushed at the compliment and tried to hide his smile behind his hand. You chuckled, a soft and melodic sound that made Ethan's heart flutter in his chest. 

Eventually, it became a routine for Ethan to join you and Chad in the mornings. Ethan found himself growing more comfortable with each passing day, thanks in part to Chad's relentless teasing and encouragement. As the days turned into weeks, he found himself looking forward to those early morning jogs, not just for the exercise but for the chance to spend time with you.

One day, as you all returned to the apartment after a particularly invigorating run, Ethan couldn't help but muster the courage to ask you a question that had been on his mind for a while. 

"I've been meaning to ask you something." he began, trying to keep his voice steady. You slowed your pace and looked at him with a friendly smile as Chad walked ahead, getting his keys out. 

"Well," he started, feeling a bit nervous, "I was wondering if you'd like to grab coffee or breakfast with me."

You cracked a smile, and Ethan felt a surge of hope. The fact that you were sweaty and panting suddenly dawned on you, and you felt a wave of embarrassement go through you as Ethan stared at you, waiting for a response.

You chuckled softly at the unexpected request, brushing a strand of hair from your face as you considered his proposition. "I'd love to," you replied with a warm smile. "But maybe we should both clean up first before we grab breakfast. Running gear and coffee shops don't really mix."

Ethan felt a mix of relief and excitement wash over him. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea," he agreed, feeling a bit self-conscious about his own disheveled appearance. "How about I come by later, and we can figure out a time?"

"Sounds perfect," you said as you reached the front door. Chad had already disappeared into their apartment, leaving the two of you alone to give you some privacy. As he watched you head into your own apartment, Ethan couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph. 

He had finally mustered the courage to ask you out, and you had said yes.

The second he stepped into his own apartment, he was met with a smirky Chad. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, a knowing grin on his face as he watched Ethan’s cheeks grow a pink-ish tint.

"Well, well, well, look who's finally making a move," he teased.

Ethan couldn't help but roll his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he replied, his embarrassment turning into a playful smile. "You can say you played matchmaker successfully." Chad chuckled, walking over to give Ethan a friendly pat on the back.

"I knew you had it in you, buddy," Chad said with a wink, “But you took so long, this month has been so painful to me as your official wing-man.” 

Ethan couldn't help but laugh at Chad's dramatics. “Whatever.” He rushed back to his room, getting freshly showered and dressed.

He kept touching up his curls, ignoring the fact that Chad was staring at him from the couch, trying to hold in his laugh. 

"What's so funny?" Ethan groaned.

Chad finally burst into laughter. "You, man. You're acting like it's your first date ever. Relax, it's just breakfast." 

"Easy for you to say, Mr. Charismatic. Some of us need a bit more prep."

Before Chad could tease him some more, a quiet knock on the door made both of their heads turn. “She’s picking you up?”

Ethan rolled his eyes and hurriedly checked himself in the mirror one last time, making sure his hair was in place before heading to the door. Chad simply grinned and gave him a thumbs-up as he answered the door.

There you stood, looking refreshed and ready, no trace of the earlier sweat and fatigue. Your hair was down, and Ethan couldn't help but stare. 

He greeted you with a warm smile, feeling a surge of excitement mixed with a hint of nervousness.

"Hey," you said, "Ready for breakfast?"

You returned his smile with one of your own, and Ethan felt a sense of ease wash over him. "Absolutely," he replied. "Lead the way."

Reaching for his wrist, you gently pulled him closer to you, and Ethan could feel his breath get caught up in this throat. You gave Chad a smile and pulled at Ethan again, making him stumble a little as you lead the way. 

The two of you entered a cozy little cafe, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeting you as you stepped inside. You chose a corner table by the window, and as you settled into your seats, Ethan couldn’t help but smile. 

“This place is nice," Ethan commented, taking in the warm ambiance of the café. He couldn't help but feel grateful for Chad's persistence in pushing him to ask you out.

You nodded, looking around the café. "It's one of my favorites," you replied. "Their pastries are amazing."

As you began to recommend some of your favorite items on the menu, Ethan found himself hanging on to your every word, captivated not just by the food suggestions, but by you. A hair strand fell onto your face as you spoke excitedly, and Ethan stared at it as he thought of what you would do if he tucked it behind your ear, held your face and kissed you like he’s been wishing to do for the past month.

“I think I’ll get the apple turnover…” you said, eyeing the small menu paper in your hands. Ethan hummed, still staring at you. “What about you?”

He cleared his throat, “Uhm… me too, yeah. That sounds nice.” 

The second the pastries got to your table, Ethan couldn't help but notice the twinkle in your eyes as you took that first bite of your apple turnover. "You have to try it." you held the pastry towards him. He stared at your hand for a second and reached to gently grab your wrist to hold it still while he bit down on the treat. The taste was even better than he had expected, and he couldn't help but let out a satisfied "Mmm"

You giggled at his reaction, and it was like music to Ethan's ears. "I told you," you said with a playful grin. "Their pastries are amazing."

He nodded and he looked down at his plate, feeling giddy by the small interaction you’d just had. You smiled at him, “So, what took you so long to ask me out?" you asked, resting your head on your hand and looking at him with a closed-mouth smile.

Ethan felt his cheeks flush slightly at the question, "Well," he began, “Uhm…”

“Hmm?” “I just wasn’t sure if you’d want to come.”

You chuckled softly, your eyes locking onto his as you leaned in a bit closer. "Ethan," you said in a gentle tone, "I've been hoping you'd ask me out for a while now."

"Really?" Ethan replied, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

Your smile widened. "Yes, really." 

Reaching across the table you placed your hand on top of his, sending a warm and reassuring squeeze. He leaned in a little closer to you, his voice filled with a newfound confidence.

"I've been wanting to get to know you better for a long time." he admitted, his eyes locked onto yours.

Your cheeks took on a faint rosy hue, and you didn't break eye contact. "Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" you replied softly. "And I'm looking forward to getting to know you too, Ethan."

Ethan gulped, fixing his hair with his free hand as he tried not to focus on the fact that you hadn’t moved your hand yet. “Chad’s always talking non-stop about you,” you said.

Ethan couldn't help but chuckle. "He’s been trying to get me to ask you out for so long."

"He kept telling me how great you are, and I can definitely see why."

Ethan's heart swelled with happiness, making a mental note to thank Chad the second he got home. "I'm glad he didn't scare you away with the constant praise," he said, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.

"Not at all. In fact, he made me even more curious to meet you," Ethan’s lips ticked up slightly, trying to hide the fact that he was close to grinning like a middle-schooler. “He insisted that you weren’t a runner, I was surprised when you agreed to join us.”

He cleared his throat and let out a short laugh, “I’m not. I hate it.”

You gave him a look, furrowing your brows in confusion. “I… I kinda joined because you asked.”

Ethan's confession made your heart skip a beat. "You joined just for me?" you asked, a warm smile spreading across your face. The fact that he had pushed himself out of his comfort zone for you was both surprising and endearing to you.

Ethan nodded, his cheeks slightly pink. "I wanted to spend more time with you." he let go of your hand to brush it over his cheeks, trying to calm himself down by his sudden forwardness.

Your smile grew even brighter, and he reached across the table to hold your hand again shyly. "I'm really glad you did," you said sincerely. You moved your hand to the tips of his fingers and Ethan made a move to hold it again, but you ran your nails over his skin slightly. 

Ethan shivered at the sensation, a pleasant tingling running down his spine. "I am too," he admitted softly, "And I hope we can spend more time together."

You leaned in a little closer, eyes never leaving his. "I'd like that," you replied, your voice low and filled with warmth. "A lot."

Ethan couldn't help but feel a shiver of excitement at your touch. Your fingers entwined with his, and he realized just how much he had been craving this connection with you. 

Time seemed to fly by, and before he knew it, the two of you had spent hours together, lost in conversation and laughter. It felt like no time had passed at all when you finally glanced at your watch and realized how late it had gotten.

"Oh wow, I didn't realize it was so late," you said with a hint of regret in your voice.

Ethan nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of disappointment that your time together was coming to an end. "Yeah, time really flew by."

You reached for your wallet, ready to pay the bill, but Ethan gently stopped you. "Let me take care of it," he insisted.

He gave you a smile as he grabbed his wallet, a small Grogu sticker on its corner. You bit down on your bottom lip, holding back a smile as Ethan paid for both of you. He blushed when you called him adorable.

You and Ethan strolled down the sidewalk, hands linked together and a comfortable silence between the two of you. Ethan couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. He had finally taken the leap and asked you out, and it had turned into a wonderful morning. 

Reluctantly, you walked Ethan back to his apartment building. You stood at the entrance, facing each other. Ethan finally broke the silence, his voice soft but sincere. "I'm so glad I finally asked you out."

“Yeah, me too.” you grinned, “I never thought you’d get past staring at me when I was getting my mail.” you teased him. Ethan choked up, "I, uh, guess I was pretty obvious, huh?"

You chuckled, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair away from his forehead. "It's cute, Ethan." You leaned in, your lips brushing against his cheek in a soft, sweet kiss. Not knowing where to put his hands, he moved them to your waist, pulling at the hem of your shirt to get you closer to him. You pulled away, and you gave him a smile that made his heart race.  

Your fingers rested against his cheek. "I had a really great time today, Ethan," you said softly, your eyes locked onto his. He nodded, feeling a sense of warmth wash over him. 

"Me too," he replied, his voice filled with genuine affection. "I can't wait to do it again."

"I'll hold you to that."

Ethan squeezed your waist before letting go, giving you a smile. He reached for your hand, and mimicked the gesture you had done to him hours before, playing with the tips of your fingers before bringing them up to his lips and kissing them gently. “I’ll see you tomorrow? We could do this again after the run?”

You nodded, your eyes sparkling with happiness. "Definitely."Ethan leaned down, pressing his lips against your forehead once, before pulling back with a grin. You let go of his hands, shying away as he reached for his keys, mentally preparing himself for a whole bunch of ‘matchmaker Chad’ jokes.

[secretagentsociety]

loves makes people crazy

yandere dragon X madly in love reader

Here's another idea,a yandere dragon like all powerful and scary the villager is scared of him,the king is scared of him,the Wizards and pretty much everyone and their grandmother is scared of him but then there's you,you different breed of a human decides to see him for the first time and say "yes that's my hubby" and the rest is history

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• people often called you crazy, dilusional and others not so nice insults for being still not being married despite hitting the big 2 0 that and also rejecting the local lords and basically anyone who tries to court you

• now just because people say it doesn't mean you HAVE to follow it yk?oh but you did you played their little fantasy of you being crazy so perfectly people were honestly scared for your mental well being,why?you may ask

• well it's because when khum first arrived at the village (I say first but it's really his 100th time terrorising the village) you decide to whisper something that some people might have heard "he's perfect" you said eyes filled with hearts watching him scaring the sht out of the locals

• honestly you're staring so much he could feel you boring holes into his head,curious he looked around for whoever it is that dared to stare at him for so long and BAM! He saw you,at first he thought you're staring at him in contempt or anger maybe both but then you sigh lovingly and waved at him a fools smile placed upon your face

• he had to look around and points at himself just to made sure he even mouthed "m-me? you're talking to me?!" But you blowing him a kiss and winking made it pretty clear it was him,well let's say after that he couldn't help but think about you "what an odd human" he thought

• "oh my god haven't you heard?! The dragons visit has been so frequent lately our village can't keep affording the rebuilding cost!" One of the villagers said,you aren't paying attention but just hearing him coming back more and more made your heart flutter "I know it's a blessing" you sighed melting into the seat as you remembered the first time he talks to you

•well it happened,khum stood Infront of you folding his hand,what is his plans anyway?kidnapping a human all of a sudden,a weird one at that,"human,do you have a name?" He said

• "you can call me yours,and I'll call you mine" you said "how about the name....treasure?no too basic maybe clove?nah um.....oh darling?" he said tilting his head,khum never thought one day he'd witness a human visibly explode and faint but here we was

• it was a rocky start to the relationship,well...rocky as in everything was so perfect it's scary, here's the recap,on day five of your kidnappings you've opened up to how the villagers had been treating you(not that it's hard to make you open up,all he had to do was give you food and call you pet names while stroking your head and bam! you're dumping your entire trauma onto him) and oh boy was he not happy

• now despite everything he's still a classy dragon,he ofcourse had hoarse of treasure but he also had a pretty nice castle he may or may not seize from a royal you don't have to know that tho so moving on,and with a huge castle come servants and with those come soldiers who needs to maintain security,not that he needs any but you know he likes to have thing's completed and that including the castles needs

• now when his subordinates first saw you absolutely gushing on how cute he was they were absolutely shocked,because one he literally look like a demon ripping out people's heart and two this isn't some flower field it's a grusome battle scene yet you couldn't help but blush when his shirt got torn off,you even closed your eyes to savor the moment after a while

• khum really can't understand your fixation on him,is it like his love for you?but even then he acknowledges your weird behaviour but you literally looked at him as if he was a god,not that he minds,he gotta admit that day he kinda wore a shirt that's a couple of size down so when he does some movements that needs intents flexibility his shirt would rip off in some cool cinematic style,it worked,it worked too well

• so apparently his stamina had their limits he'd come to know it last Night after the battle,oh but the details won't be necessary,oh but don't be fooled if he were to actually try you'd be the one to pass out

• now is he dilusional?nope he knows full well that it's not healthy but does he care?nope he's a powerful dragon,are you dilusional?maybe?...idk...probably....yes?.... Well he is cute so I'll give you that

• he is possesive, but it's really hard to show possesive when the person he loved won't look at other people,you will talk to people normally but once he entered your line of sight the other people can forget ever having a conversation with you

• now for the big question does this technically make you a yandere? maybe..yes.

•i feel the need to say he is 100% taller than you, I'm sorry but it's just the rules 乁⁠(⁠ ⁠•⁠_⁠•⁠ ⁠)⁠ㄏ

• yes he has two pp lets move on now

• he had a way of marking you so other beasts knows to back the fuck off it's called biting,the first night you ever discover the chamber of secrets together(wink wink nudge nudge)he bit down on your neck,it leaves a pretty little flower mark that's imbued with his power it's very very very tiny teeny I cannot stress enough how tiny it is so it's safe

• now if you EVER even say someone else is cute then oh boi oh my,now I have established that he is jealous have I?,no?well too bad because he is,and his jealousy doesn't play nice,he will rip out the heart and torture the person over and over and over each time reviving them again and again and put a curse of Resurrection on them only to leave them in a forest of ravaging beasts that has lost their minds to be feasted upon and tortured until he sees them having suffered enough. ಠ⁠︵⁠ಠ Moral of the story? don't just don't say anyone is cute (yes not even babies) (he won't like k.o them but he will like curse them or sum sht )

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on that note good night people

[ninii-winchester]

Unveiled Sorrows (Part 5)

Pairings : Dean Winchester X Reader, Sam Winchester X Reader (platonic), Dean Winchester x Lisa Braden (mentioned)

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: heavy angst, spoilers s1-s6, mentions of violence, foul language, brief mentions of pregnancy and childbirth.(no details).

A/n : This series follows canon plot line but some scenes might happen differently or be completely changed. Check the warnings for each part before continuing

A/n: For the purpose of this series, Sam came back with his soul. Gemma and Will Campbell are OCs.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Bobby watched Dean drive away. He never imagined he'd do something like that. He turned to see y/n on the ground.

"No...no Sammy. Come back." She dug her fingers into the ground. "Please." She sobbed as she continued digging as if the cage would still be under the ground. She hoped by some miracle it would open up and give her best friend back.

"Y/n let go." Bobby tried prying her hands off the ground. "Let go God dammit your fingers are bleeding." He jerked her body upwards and dragged her off to his truck. He made her sit inside and grabbed her stuff from her car. He got into the driver's seat, and took off. After an hour of driving she calmed down.

"Hey! How come you're walking again? I mean not that it's bad but I'm curious." Y/n asked Bobby.

"I sold my soul to Crowley to find Death. He said he could give me anything so he gave me my legs back too."

"Crowley the demon? Gave you your legs back?"

"Strange world we live in." Bobby shrugged. Y/n give him a look. "What?"

"Are you stupid?"

"Excuse me?"

"You sold your soul to a demon? You're gonna have your ass dragged to hell you know that?"

"He said he's borrowing it."

"Wow Bobby, he said and you believed. Thats a demon. You can't trust demons." Bobby didn't say anything after that. Halfway through the drive Y/n called out Bobby's name. He glanced at her urging her to go on.

"I'm pregnant." She said making Bobby hit the brakes abruptly.

"Come again?"

"I'm pregnant."

"What?" He was shocked to the core at the revelation. She only stared ahead not looking him in the eye. "What the hell were you thinking confronting Lucifer? Are you mad? Did you have no regard for your life or that child's?" Bobby yelled as he started to drive again.

"I'm sorry I just couldn't sit back and watch." She whispered.

"Did you three plan this scheme 'kill Bobby of a heart attack'." He sighed and then he paused. "Who's the father?" He asked.

"Dean." She looked out of the window as the scenery passed.

"Figures. Did you tell him?" She shook her head 'no'. "Will you tell him?"

"Do you really think he wants anything to do with me after the way he left?" She snapped. Bobby stayed silent.

"I'm taking you to a hospital, we need to get you checked." Y/n nodded.

The two of them made their way back home after a long drive and a pit stop at the doctors. She was fine and the baby was healthy too. They gave her some prescription and told her to rest. Bobby had told her she'd be staying with him from now on and he won't take no for an answer. He cared for the three of them like their own. Now with Sam being dead and Dean being God knows where he'd like to keep her here safe. Ever more now that she's pregnant.

"I'm telling you, you should tell Dean. He deserves to know."

"Dean didn't give two shits before walking away from us Bobby, we've known him for years. Do you think he'd care for a bastard child like that?" Y/n retorted.

"Watch your language, young lady. That's my grandchild you're talking about." Bobby scolded her. Ofcourse he thinks of Y/n as the daughter her never had.

"Well news flash Bobby this ain't no love child." Bobby rolled his eyes at her comment.

"I'm sure he'd-"

"You know what actually? I'm sure he would want to know but I don't want to tell him. Walking out was his decision and not telling him about this is my decision." Y/n said walking away.

It had been two months since Sam died and Dean left. Y/n still mourned Sam's death and she missed him dearly. She wondered how he'd react to the news of her being pregnant. She's at five months now. She was in the main room cleaning and refilling her guns. Just because she's not allowed to hunt for the time being doesn't mean she won't be cautious.

She heard a knock on the door and she knew Bobby wasn't supposed to be back until later. She grabbed her gun and stuffed it in the back of her jeans. She grabbed her shotgun and went to the door. When she opened the door, her jaw hit floor. She couldn't believe her eyes. There stood Sam Winchester in the flesh.

"Y/n." He breathed out and she pointed the shot gun at his chest. "It's me, Sam."

"Not you're not. Sam's dead."

"I know I died Y/n but I'm back."

"That's not possible. Who brought you back? Was it Dean?" It pained her to say his name but now's not the time to think about that.

"I don't know what or who brought me back but I'm willing to go to every test." He raised his hands in surrender.

"Alright." And with that she shot him.

"Ow son of a bitch. That hurt Y/n." He complained.

"It was just rock salt, don't be a bitch."

"Jerk." Sam replied and for second her guard dropped. Still pointing the gun at him she grabbed a silver knife from her back pocket and threw it at him. He caught it and sliced his arm, he showed her as the blood trickled down his arm. She then grabbed the holy water and threw it at his face.

"A little warning would've been appreciated." Sam sassed  as he wiped the water from his eyes. "Can I hug you now?"

She kept staring at his face. She grabbed his arm and dragged him to main room and made him stand under the devils trap. Sam looked up and then moved away from the trap. Before either of them could say anything Y/n jumped up and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back and he felt something different about Y/n as he hugged her.

"How did this happen, Sammy?" She asked as they pulled away.

"Uh i don't know." He replied looking at her oddly. Y/n was thankful that she was wearing one of Sam's shirts, it was huge on her so her body was completely covered. Not that she had huge bump but still whatever she had, it was covered.

"How long have you been back?"

"Two months?"

"TWO MONTHS? SAM WINCHESTER YOUVE BEEN BACK FOR TWO MONTHS???" She exclaimed loudly. "Where have you been for the past two months?"

"Yeah I've been researching, I needed to know how I came back and uh I went to see Dean." He explained.

"You met Dean? Why's he not here?" She shouldn't care but she did.

"I didn't meet him. I just saw him." Sam replied.

"What do you mean? Why didn't you meet him? Where is he?"

"He is living with Lisa and Ben. He uh... he looked normal, he's living the apple pie life he always wanted and I couldn't go up there and take it all away from him." Sam told her with a sad smile. They both knew Dean would drop anything for his brother.

Y/n knew Lisa, she's met her once when they helped her get her son, Ben, back. Lisa was in Dean's life way before Y/n was. That was his only serious long term relationship she's ever known of. Lisa is a wonderful woman and it made sense why he left Y/n for someone like her.

"Was he...did he seem happy?" She had to ask.

"The happiest I've ever seen him. I didn't have it in me to go ahead and ruin everything. He looked so happy but I knew if I went in there he'd leave all of it to be back in hunting. I couldn't do that to him." Sam told her honestly.

"I agree."

"Where's Bobby?" Sam asked and the man in question entered the house and gasped at the sight in front of him. He grabbed the shot gun by the stairs and aimed at Sam. "Aw dammit not again."

"It's alright Bobby i checked. I did all the tests." Y/n intervened. The older man lowered his gun.

"Tell me something only Sam Winchester would know!" He demanded.

"A month before I fell, you lost your years to a witch in poker and then Dean lost to get your years back which made him old. But then I won back Dean's years and he turned back to normal." Sam narrated.

"What? When did that happen?" Y/n giggled as Bobby pulled Sam in a hug.

"When Bobby came to help us with the witch. You stayed back when we last hit the road." Sam replied.

"Oh I remember that, but you didn't tell me Dean got old." She laughed.

"Dean told me not to." Sam replied.

"Did you tell him?" Bobby asked Y/n and her eyes widened.

"Tell me what?" Sam asked warily.

"Uh look at that would ya? It's time for lunch. Why don't you wash up Bobby I'll set the table. You must be hungry too Sam." She said walking into the kitchen as Bobby went to freshen up. Sam followed her into the kitchen and she brush past him.

"Tell me what Y/n?"

"Would you like a beer, Sammy?" She pulled out a bottle and passed it to him. He banged his hand against the table gaining her attention.

"Tell me what?"

"I'm pregnant. It's Dean's." Y/n said calmly. The beer bottle slipped from his hands onto floor and shattering into a million pieces.

"What?" He asked completely in shock. Y/n pulled her shirt up a bit and it showed her bump. Sam stared at in utter disbelief. "I had no idea you and him? You and Dean you...?" He stuttered.

"It happened one night. It was a mistake." She lied. Ofcourse it wasn't one night and it wasn't a mistake either. But what can she even tell him.

"Does he know? Did you tell him?"

"No." She replied as she continued to set the food on the table.

"Why? Why wouldn't you tell him? he wanted a family for as long as i can remember."

"And he has a family. With Lisa. And Ben. I'm a hunter Sam, he can't have that white picket fence life with me which has with them. Don't you think he should live with the woman he loves and not with some good lay and a bastard child?" She snapped.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to say that word?" Bobby glared at Y/n as he entered the kitchen.

"What? That's your summoning? I say bastard child and you appear out of thin air?" Y/n replied sarcastically.

"You watch how you speak to me." Bobby's glare deepened.

"You can't kick me out. I'm carrying your grandchild." She stuck her tongue out the man she's come to love, as her father, over the years.

"I can when it's born."

"You wouldn't." She rolled her eyes.

"Are you two done? Because i would like to rewind to the part where you called yourself 'some good lay'." Sam sighed.

"What? You want me to say I was bad?" She joked.

"How are you not affected by all this? Stop acting like it doesn't bother you." Sam bellowed. He knew it must've been killing her inside.

"It doesn't bother me Sam."

"You have to tell Dean." He pressed on.

"I will not and if you did, I will shoot you. Not with a shot gun filled with rock salt but I'll put an actual bullet through you. And this is not an empty threat."

"I know things weren't good the last time we were here, he said things, he was stressed -"

"No Sam. It has nothing to do with what happened the last time."

"What is it then?"

"He left." Bobby said. "After you fell, he drove off leaving me and her behind. He didn't look back and we haven't heard from him since." He said solemnly looking at Y/n.

"I won't tell him. I promise." Sam said to y/n and She nodded. Sam felt a pang of guilt hit him. He remembered the talk he had with hin on their drive to Detroit. If only he hadn't made Dean promise to not find Y/n and go back to Lisa, things would've been different. Dean would've been here with his child and Y/n wouldn't have to go through this all alone. If only he had known. But how could've he known.

"Sam? You zoned out.!" Y/n called out.

"Yeah uhm I'm fine just too much to take in." Y/n nodded in agreement and Sam filled the two of them about the past two months. How his grandfather Samuel is also back from the dead. And he's been staying with him distant maternal cousins for the past two months.

Sam introduced Y/n to Samuel and his family. They've been getting along fine and Sam's back to hunting with the Campbells.

Three months later Y/n gave birth to Adeline Mary Winchester. No-one other than Bobby and Sam knew who the was the father of Adeline. Adeline was the cutest baby Sam had ever seen and much to Y/n's dismay, she looked exactly like her father. She had bright green eyes and dirty blonde hair. She had freckles all over her cheeks and nose just like Dean's. She reminded her too much of Dean.

"She looks exactly like Dean, no offence y/n." Sam said as he cradled his niece.

"None taken, Sammy. I know she looks like him." He placed her in her arms gently. "Hi there sweetheart." Y/n cooed at her daughter. "Isn't she adorable?"

"She's lovely." Sam commented. "I wish Dean was here." She wished too.

"But he's not."

"Because he doesn't know." Sam replied.

"I'd like to keep it that way. And we're not having this conversation again."

Y/n missed hunting. She'd been staying put and helping with research at Bobby's but she missed hunting. Neither of the men allowed her to go on hunts even if it was a basic salt and burn. Adeline had turned four months old three days ago. She was currently in Bobby's arms as she slept and Sam's on a hunt with Samuel.

The phone rang and Y/n answered it before it rang too much and woke up Addy.

"It's Gemma." She's one of Sam's distant cousins. Barely eighteen but a good hunter. "Me and Will are on a hunt and seems like we might need backup." Y/n relayed the information to Bobby hoping he'd let her go since there's no one else. The old man rolled his eyes and nodded. Y/n squealed with happiness and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you. Addy darling mommy's gonna be back before you know it." She kissed her daughter's cheek. "Don't bother the old man okay? I love you."

Y/n packed her stuff and drove her car to the town Gemma told her they would be in. It was dark when she left Sioux Falls and she arrived at the town at 4:20am. She met up with Gemma and Will. They decided they'd get those ambush the nest first thing in the morning. The three stayed in a motel room where Gemma took one bed and Y/n slept on the other. William was kind enough to give up on a bed and opt for the pullout couch instead. It had been a while since Y/n had been in a motel room.

It reminded her of Dean, how he would pull her in for a kiss every time Sam went out. Or how he would make her feel good when they shared a room. How he would make sweet passionate love to her and how the two of them created Adeline in a motel room. Then she felt bitter. He didn't make love to her, he had sex with her. If only he loved her like her told her, he would've never hurt her this bad. Or leave her alone by herself.

The morning came earlier than she expected and the three of them drove to the warehouse which was the supposed Vampire nest. There were nine vampires in total. Y/n hadn't felt this thrill in the past few months and she was thriving on it. Pumped up with adrenaline, she went in for the kill and ended up killing five on her own. All her frustration washing away with vampires' blood . Gemma and Will finished off the other four. The two rookies were impressed by her skills. The sun had set when they were with cleaning and disposing off the bodies. The three skipped town as soon as they cleaned up because a few of Gemma and Will's guns were at the motel, out in the open, the cleaning maid saw them and called the police.

They stopped two towns over to grab a few drinks. It was around nine pm. It had been a long time since y/n had alcohol. They went inside the bar and grabbed a table. Gemma and Will ordered beers but Y/n went for whiskey. She downed it one go and asked for another.

"Hey don't look at me like that, it's been a while i hunted or even drank." The two smirked and cheers to her. She decided to give Bobby a call and let him know that she'd be home in a few hours and asked if Addy was doing okay. To which he told that Sam's back and Addy has been with him since. She sighed in relief when she heard that.

"How's Addy?" Gemma asked.

"She's good. Sammy is back and she's with him right now." Y/n smiled thinking about her little girl. Her Dean jr.

The bar door opened and two men walked inside, one of the them was chattering too loudly which made Y/n look up and she wished she hadn't. She saw Dean walking in with a man she didn't recognise. She watched as Dean heard his friend's chatter with a smile on his face. He looked...normal. Just some guy you'd find at a bar on the weekend. He didn't look like Dean Winchester. The one she knew. She hoped he doesn't see her but has luck ever been on her side? He looked at her and their eyes met.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks as soon as his eyes landed on her. His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest. It's almost been an year since he last saw her but the mere sight of her was enough to make him fold. She looked just a beautiful as the day he left her. The day he broke her heart but ripped his own into pieces. She looked like he had gained some weight, but it suited her. And then his gaze dropped to her lips, those same lips that he used to kiss sore, the same lips let out those sinful noises when he made her feel good. Those lips, he'd give anything to feel against his own.

"Dean, are you okay?" Sid asked as he noticed Dean stop.

"Yeah man, I'm good." He said still looking at her. He knows he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself before he spoke, "i think I saw someone from my high school, let's go say hi." He said walking towards her table.

"Sure." Sid followed behind him.

Y/n's heart rate picked up as he got closer, why is he walking towards us. Is going to act like he knows me? The sheer audacity of this man. Hasn't he broken me enough why..

"Hey.! Gracie Henderson, right?" Dean spoke as he reached their table. Gemma and Will turned to look up at him.

Damn you Dean. Fuck you. He had to strike a nerve there. That was their alias when they had to go undercover as a couple. It was always Y/n and Dean since Sam couldn't like a couple with Y/n. He just had to make everything awkward, so it was always Dean and Y/n. Gracie Henderson and her husband Troy Henderson.

Ofcourse he couldn't miss the chance to hurt me again. Y/n thought to herself.

"Huh?" Y/n feigned ignorance.

"You're Gracie right? We went to high school together." Dean said looking right at her.

"Sorry? I think you have the wrong person." Y/n spoke the alcohol in her system giving her the courage to speak to him. "I never went to high school and its Adeline."

"Alright my bad." Dean said, his friend mumbling a sorry before they went to sit at the table beside theirs. His friend went to order for them and he sat there eavesdropping the conversation happening at the table beside him.

"He definitely knows you. That was one of your aliases." Gemma said as soon as Dean left. Y/n shrugged in response ordering another drink. "Cmon y/n tell us why did you act like you didn't know him?"

"Because he's Dean Winchester." She practically sneered his name. Dean flinched at the way she said name.

"What really ? He's Dean?" Will spoke for the first time in awhile. Y/n nodded.

"Why didn't you tell him to join us?" Gemma asked and Will added a "yeah why not?"

"Are you two dumb? What part of his appearance says he's a hunter? He's not in the business anymore. And the guy that came with him? He screams 9 to 5. So what did you two expect me to invite him to our table and reminisce the time we went to a fucking high school to burn the body of his brother's friend and his friend's bully?" Y/n spoke agitatedly and the two nodded in understanding. She downed her drink.

"I can't believe i came here out for this. You two needed backup for nine vampires? You know Bobby doesn't let me go on hunts. I came out to hunt after almost a year and its some stupid fucking vampires." She sighed dramatically.

Dean perked up when he heard her say she hadn't hunted in almost an year. Is she out of the business too? What does she mean Bobby doesn't let her hunt.

"You haven't hunted in almost a year and still you took down five vampires on your own." Will sat there in total awe. "You're my new role model."

Sid had already came back but Dean's attention was still on y/n. He smiled when he heard she took down five vampires on her own, that's my girl. He thought to himself.

"You two kiddos did good too. I'm sorry I snapped, I'm a bit stressed." Y/n said.

"It's alright." Gemma smiled.

"I'll head out." Y/n said grabbing her jacket and threw a few bills to for her bills.

"You're driving back to Sioux Falls?" Will asked and she nodded. "Aren't you drunk?"

"I've only had three drinks."

"Yeah of whiskey." Gemma added.

"Trust me kiddo. It takes a lot more than that to get me drunk." She replied and Dean noticed a lingering sadness in her voice.

The love of his life has been through hell and back and she's still kicking it. He wishes he could just grab her and disappear from the surface of the earth. To keep her from harms way and keep her protected from all the sadness and hurt. He wish he could love her the way she deserves to be loved. He watched as she left the bar before yelling a "get home safe kiddos."

The first thing y/n did as she reached home was to see Adeline. It was around five in the morning when she reached home. She saw Sam in the kitchen eating cereal and looking at his computer while he held Adeline on his lap.

"Good morning." She said as she entered the kitchen.

"Look Addy, mommy's back." Sam said holding her up. The baby giggled as she saw her mother approaching her.

"There's my baby." She picked up Adeline in her arms. "Did you miss mommy?" She asked in baby voice and the little girl flailed her arms, excitedly tapping her mother's cheeks.

"How was your 'first' hunt?" Sam joked earning an eye roll.

"It was good, vamps nest." She said sitting beside him, pulling her hair away from Adeline who was gripping it too tightly.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked noticing the stress lines on his best friend's face.

"I'm fine, why'd you ask?"

"You have that look on your face." Sam replied gesturing to her face.

"What look?"

"That look when something is bothering you but you're too prideful to say."

"I don't have such look on my face." Y/n said bouncing Addy on her lap.

"Y/n." Sam stared at her. He knows it's only a matter of seconds before she's spilling the truth.

"I met Dean okay? No big deal." She sighed.

"What? You met Dean? How?" Y/n filled in him with everything that happened after the hunt.

"He looked like a common man, it was weird seeing him. And the audacity to walk up to me and say hi? He was lucky he was with someone or I would've bashed his face in the table." Y/n growled her hold tightening on Adeline.

"Maybe he missed you and he thought after seeing you again he could talk to you." Sam said hoping he could get her hate him a little less.

"Well he thought wrong." She said angrily making her way out of the kitchen.

"Do you want me to watch Addy while you rest?" Sam called out from behind her.

"I am very much capable of taking care of my daughter on my own." She snapped, she didn't mean she didn't need Sam's help, she always appreciated his existence. But at the moment her words had a different meaning. She wanted Sam to know that just because she met Dean doesn't mean she will let him be in Adeline's life.

Sam sighed as he watched her walk away. He most definitely understood the meaning behind her words. Y/n went to her room and laid Adeline on the bed. She kneeled beside the bed and looked at her daughter. Adeline wiggled amd giggled staring at her mother. Y/n couldn't help but let a few tears run down her cheek. She never wanted this to be her daughter's life, she didn't need her innocent baby to grow up around monsters, without her father being there to protect her.

"How I wish I could hate your father, Addy. I resent him for what he did to us but I still love him. How could I not when he has given me you." She whispered, her daughter stared up the her with her bright green eyes that reminded her so much of her lost love. She placed soft kisses on her chubby cheeks before putting her in her crib. Y/n sighed as she got into bed. Little did she know this was the last time she had a good night's sleep in a long time.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @queensilber @deangirl96 @galway-girlatwork @hobby27

[moonshine-dan]

Personal Headcanons:

Sakusa Kiyoomi

This is mostly to provide context for fics I write with him and how I interpret his character. I might add to this at random! NSFW below cut.

He's not an asshole for fun- he's brusque with people because he respects their time and wants them to respect his.

Similar to above- he's not an OCD germaphobe, he's just tidy and dislikes unnecessary mess where it's avoidable. He's got standards. And he doesn't like being sick! Is basic hygiene such a high bar???

It's really just high anxiety but he'd never admit to it

Not a 'dry' texter but he's not writing more than he needs to.

Was told once as a teenager that he was a shitty boyfriend and he took that personally. He spent a month reading magazines and internet articles on how to be a better partner & now has a brain lobe dedicated to Cosmo and Buzzfeed advice that comes in varying degrees of handy at random times

He has hypermobile wrists; I think he does get the associated body and joint pain associated with them. He's not in agony, but he's dealing with low to midgrade pain almost constantly.

Part of why he's got a reputation for being short with people is that he's often kind of tired or in pain and is band at recognizing or expressing it. He wants to go HOME.

He's a goofball but in Strange and Offputting ways, not fun and endearing ways. Has his own sense of humor.

If he's being silly with you, he trusts you. If he's putting your stuff in his bag 'on accident' or pulling 'too slow' high five shit with you, you've fucking made it into his heart.

I don't think he's very experienced in sexual relations! He takes dating seriously & doesn't rush. Not many have stayed with him long enough for him to feel like sex is on the table.

Does not have a very high sex drive and is not super curious about exploring much about himself on his own- but he's more than happy to indulge your sexual fantasies if you ask.

Not huge on PDA but not shy at all about telling people you are together. Arm holder, not hand holder.

He runs warm and is always in shorts and short sleeves if he can help it.

Moles all over. Got a mole next to his dick. Self conscious about it even though it's irrational bc he's very pale and they stick out :(

Addicted to tiger balm and camphor spray. Huffs it like glue when putting them on.

Secretly thinks laundry soap and dishwashing powder smell good. Sniffs them every time he uses them.

While not a fan of PDA, he's on more than one occasion shown up to a date with a gift unprompted. He'd buy you one of those embarrassing and Huge stuffed animals and carry it for you.

He has very strong opinions on the use of sesame oil as a condiment. "It's overused. And it smells so strong. And they always put so much in."

He's not a hard top only dom. He's actually very happy to be the sub- he CAN switch, but he enjoys following the lead and reacting to your wants.

Bro is ALWAYS OUT ON A RUN. Morning? Running before breakfast. Lunch? Has a circuit by the river. At night? On a jog before dinner. He WILL ask you to join him once a week.

He knows how to cook but only the blandest meals known to man. He cannot handle spice at all and gets bright fucking red, it's lame as hell and he hates it

Average sensitivity in general, except for his sides and waist. He gets jumpy if you touch them. it's cute :)

He's also very tenderheaded. poor thang :(

There is nothing in the WORLD more erotic to him than a massage. Work the knots out of his shoulder and he'll fuck you till you pass tf OUT

Does not like used condom smell. at all. He's genuinely considered a vasectomy so he can hit it raw without consequence

[azulock]

Day three and it's Kaiser again! If on the first drabble he got to show off one of the weirdest German pet names, this time we stick with the more normal one. I mean, anything in German sounds weird, but you get the gist, and that's the charm of it.

summary. seeing someone you have been hitting on at a party with somebody else is always annoying. But seeing them alone and sulking when they should have company is more than a bit weird. Though, it might also be the universe giving you a chance - and Kaiser doesn't let those slip his grasp that easily.

pairing. Michael Kaiser x Reader

wordcount. 861 words

3. Company Holiday Party - Michael Kaiser

The team's holiday party was always a bore. The type of event Kaiser attended because he had to - and to let his ego feed off of the people gawking at his presence, as they should. But otherwise, they were dull affairs, full of uninteresting people that he needed to endure as a networking thing. So, it's fair to say he never really wanted to attend it, but this year in special, he really didn't want to come.

It wouldn't be much like him to admit the reason why he didn't want to attend this time - because you would be attending with someone other than him. Fair, you had nothing. You'd had sex once, after another dull work event that saw you both bored and tipsy, ending up with you on his hotel bed. Waking up with his team's social media manager wasn't what he had planned, but he wasn't complaining either - especially seeing how he'd always had a thing for you.

After that, there wasn't much to the story. He'd flirt with you whenever possible, and he was pretty sure you were flirting back - come on, why would you not? But it had been something over two months, and he hadn't gotten much further than this. Which, was bad enough on its own. Though, two weeks back he heard you'd be attending the party with someone else - the goddamn goalie of all fucking people - and that left a bit of a wound on his ego.

So, one could imagine his surprise when Kaiser found you alone, drinking a cocktail while looking intently at the snowy landscape out of the window. He'd seen the damn goalie by himself earlier, talking to some of the club's managers when he was passing by, but he didn't think much of it at the moment. Though now he'd gotten the obvious hint that something was wrong here.

There was a long moment of hesitation as Kaiser watched you from the bar, considering if he should approach or not. Something he himself would admit was weird, under any other circumstances he'd be there already, boasting about what many - himself included - would consider a victory for him.

Rejection always hurt less when the object of your interest ended up rejected themselves, and there was no doubt Kaiser would have been a better pick than that stupid goalie. But for some odd reason, he didn't exactly feel like boasting today. Maybe it was the spirit of the season, still he approached you anyway.

"Came to watch my humiliation?" You asked, glancing at him from the corner of your eye as you took a sip from your drink.

"Me? I was just curious to what you were doing here all alone," he retorted, raising one eyebrow and clanking his glass against yours before drinking from it.

"Oh, do you really not know or are you trying to step on my ego?" You gave a dry laugh, letting silence settle between you for a second before shrugging and point to a place on the other side of the hall the party was held in. "That's why, she's the club owner's daughter, by the way, the reason why I came alone today."

"Oooh," Kaiser's eyes followed to where you were pointing, finding the man supposed to be your date today dancing and laughing with somebody else. "Well, he was always sort of a bastard, think of it like dodging a bullet."

"Still feels a bit like public humiliation, though," you scoffed, eyes still turned to the snowflakes falling outside.

"So," Kaiser smirked, turning to you and resting his back on the window, he was seeing his chance and decided it wouldn't be too bad to try and take it, "what you say about having a dance and turning that around?"

"You offering yourself as a consolation prize?" You laughed, downing your drink with a quick movement, making Kaiser roll his eyes at your words.

"Liebling, I hardly think I could be considered a consolation prize," he sneered with a grin, mirroring your movement and finishing his drinks as your eyes followed him. "Besides, I've been flirting with you for the past two months, why do you think I'm offering?"

His last words were deadpan and dry, dropping the charm for a moment at how absurdly stubborn and dense you could be. Surprising even himself, it made you laugh, body falling forward as you rested your forehead on the cold window besides him. He looked at you curiously, trying to seem unfazed by your reaction.

"Oh, that German bluntness," you laughed, looking back at him with a smile, one he felt proud of getting from you. "You know what, Mihya? I think I might just accept that offer," you responded, hooking your arm around his own.

Kaiser smirked, trying to hide his joy behind pride and lust as he pulled you towards the dance floor. He'd learned early on that in this life, you take your shot where you can find it, what matters is how good you can make it look. And he was Michael Kaiser, he could make anything look good. Besides, who know, maybe he could get lucky tonight too.

shout out to: @fivenightsatwhoreville @minarinnn @loser-vxbez @pinksodacan

[gh0stswh0re]

"where has your determination gone to, little thing?"

warnings: f! reader, shameless repost, cnc, rough dom, angry sex, heavy language, verbal humiliation, manhandling, fingering, piv, no aftercare, simon's being a big meanie, storyline? what storyline?

word count: 1,3k

a/n: ignore the mid beginning (and middle, and end), changed it back into reader insert cuz i hated it

...

he was a man of determination and sheer willpower, a man with strong morals and one might even dare say simon riley was a bit of a patriot, but dangerous is what he really was – like a predator he moved, like a sickened predator he stalked and watched, like a bloodthirsty predator he hunted down and slaughtered whatever poor bastard was his next set target. he was blind and rabid with rage - a weapon, a machine on the battlefield. with phantoms of war haunting his flesh, scattered across his skin in all shapes and forms – the white line searing deep into his thumb, in particular, caught your attention.

you - the little spoiled rotten princess that was assigned under his supervision, making his day-to-day life miserable and the past few days fucking hell – yeah, that's what he would call it, ''fucking hell'', when after a particularly long, torturous day you'd come around with your usual set of deliberately detailed questions and utterly childish complaints. it's not the type of confession he'd make to any other living soul, but he's never questioned your intelligence – he knew how much twisted joy hid in the tasteless jokes, so out of the goodness of his own rotten heart he warned you – ''one day, birdie, you'll get the chance of coming across some mean motherfuckers, and i won't be there, and this shit-'' his deep voice roughed with the heaving breaths, ''is going to get you killed.'' that was three, maybe four months ago – three, hardly four months before you'd be assigned a task together, one he just couldn't deny.

maybe it was the remote location, or perhaps the complications which occurred on nearly daily basis, you could very well just be feeling a bit under the weather – not following even the simplest orders, talking back, grabbing his prized little possessions only to leave them at the other side of the room, and even going as far as raising your voice at him – the petite, cheeky girl with the golden smile and screams like that of a harpy, ringing in his ears, risking to rupture his eardrums as you spat ugly threats at him.

heavy footsteps quickly closed the distance between the two of you, as the wooden floor quaked underneath his iron-cast weight – the air thinned with his presence approaching you. ''i'd like to see you try, princess-'' strong hands invaded your space, hooking the little pocket knife you always carried around off your belt with absolute ease. ''i'd like to see you fucking try'' clatter of the metal blade hit the tiles of the bathroom floor – one room you tried to hide in, thinking about what you've been told, what he taught you – when an enemy backs you into a corner, you fight back, you claw your way out of it, taking advantage of every damn thing in your surroundings, you – he knew this, he knew it and he's been taunting you – watching you, examing each one of your moves, your anxious gaze scattered all over the room.

the tips of his fingers tenderly caressed your chin, brushing against the warm skin of your flushed cheeks as he cooed at you – whispering, his voice haunting you as he hummed a lustful song, the chorus of desperate heat within him. soft, heated breath washed over the side of your face, as he tapped his thumb over your bottom lip – swollen, bloody with fear – prying open your mouth, "stupid fucking bitch".

leather-bound hands groped your flesh, brushing against the swell of your breast and back up, teasing the sensitive, perky nubs, taking one between two clumsy fingers as he gazed at you with curious eyes. ''naughty little birdie, aren't you?'' forcing a hand between your legs, his gloved palm slid down your thigh, stroking your pulse as rough fingers endowed with perverted curiosity slipped past the fabric of your shorts. three fingers ghosted over the swollen folds of your cunt – wet, soaked with need – as he gathered sweet, sticky arousal on his fingers. two pushing in, as you chewed on the inside of her cheek, nearly drawing blood biting down a whimper, your voice trembling as pain spread through your core, and the vicious sound of his chuckle rang in your ears.

heat rippled over your face as the pad of his finger slid across your stiff clit, cruelly teasing it with a quick swirl as the little knot of pleasure in your belly tightened against your own will. pure bliss fought with the persistence of your pathetic resistance – it turned him on how you cried in despair, made him into a fucking animal, only swiping faster, making the little nub twitch under the lewd movement of his fingers.

fear of him breaking you rushed the adrenaline through your veins, and clouded your mind with frenzy – but he wouldn't do that, he wouldn't break you – he'd only shatter you, devour and waste what was once within you.

he kissed the warm flesh on your neck – chapped lips prying open, the tip of his tongue heated with desire tasting the struggle evident on the hot skin, before he bit down, scarring its delicacy. the grip his hands held on you was sadistic, punishing, nearly crushing your hips. desperation and lust thickened in your throat, breath hitching somewhere in your lungs – you couldn't tell though, your own body betraying you – any words of protest, or perhaps resentment towards your superior, your dear and beloved lieutenant, died on the tip of your tongue. only a faint whisper slipped past your lips – hoarse with the exhaustion from the pathetic cries – as he lowered your limp body onto the ground, the playful fingers still fucking you at a lazy pace.

not only was he utterly intoxicated by your movements, but he's also grown addicted to it – snuffing a grunt, sucking the air in through his teeth as he watched you fuck yourself back into his hand. the obnoxiously loud, hot-headed troublemaker was actually an obedient little whore, completely at his mercy.

both hands encased your hips, as he traced the head of his cock along the edges of you, the heavy tip pressing against the tight entrance of the clenching cunt coated with shimmery, sticky arousal. he shut his eyes closed as his heavy hips thrust in and out of you - every rushed beat of your heart was now pulsating with desperation in your cunt, as you whimpered, cried – more, more, more. swayed, craved – closer, closer, closer.

his hands grabbed at your hips, thighs, ass – his strokes jaunty, clumsy, as one hand sneaked into your hair, roughly pushing your face down until you winced in pain. it seemed like he preferred it this way – balls deep, without the pretend concern. your mind was numb, brain melting – the loud slaps of skin and groans of pleasure filled your ears, consumed your entire being, devoured every last bit of decency you had left. noises – mixtures of pure nonsense drowned in moans gutted through your body, as he grabbed your hand and forced your palm open flat against your lower belly – he was boring into your stomach, ruthless and cruel it made your cunt throb with pleasure, ripping up your spine, tearing through the weary muscles as it set your nerves aflame and whirled your brain with the agonizing need to just fucking cum already.

''where has your determination gone to, little thing? thought you were gonna-'' his violent thrusts spread the clenching walls of your warm cunt each time he slammed his hips into yours, ''mm, slit my throat? isn't that right, you needy-'' a thrust, ''desperate-'' and another, ''whiny-'', and one more ''-slut".

he noticed – your muscles tensed, limbs trembled, as your brain fizzed with the pain overwhelmed by the carnality of the physical pleasure, he knew you were so damn fucking close … so, he stopped. ''think you deserve to cum after what you said to me?'' he slowed down the pace of his brutal fucking, even if it took every last bit of his self-control, ''nah, little birdie, you don't-'' a hand brushed against your lower back, ''this one is all for me'' it was a growl more than it was a sentence, as he fucked his leaky precum into your womb, ''and this one too'' one last thrust before he pulled out heaving, hot cum covering your thighs, dripping onto your worn out cunt.

[nekrosdolly]

albert wesker hcs (re0-1)

hi!! first post! let me know if it's ooc or not, i'm trying. tysm for reading! tags below.

cw; fluff, angst, hurt/no comfort, follows the events of re1. boyfriend! wesker bc he's so sillypants and i love him lol. not proofread, written under the influence, whoops! somewhat clingy but mostly cold reserved bf wesker. jill and chris mentioned, valenfield implied.

petnames used; primrose, little dove.

boyfriend wesker!, who's not always the most affectionate but makes sure to always have a hand on you at all times, unless you're apart. he's always holding either your hand, your waist, or the back of your neck. his hands are slightly calloused, cold, and smooth from both his lines of work. you'd shudder upon initial comment, mutter something about his fingers being "cold as ice," and melt into his touch anyway.

boyfriend wesker!, who, when you're away, sends you updates on his day so you're not worried where he's gone. if he's reading a book, he'll send you a line that makes him think of you, be it a fact or something a character said. when he's working and you're at home, he's frequenting his Nokia 6150 in his office to see if you've messaged him. he's private about your relationship with all his coworkers, Umbrella or R.P.D.

boyfriend wesker! who hasn't told you about his job at Umbrella, and likely won't for your own safety. He can't risk getting his little dove involved, especially if you're not the science type. he only tells you things you'd want to hear about his position at the R.P.D.- stories of Chris being an astounding meathead and Jill's crush on him. he'd update you on developments because he knows you like that sort of thing, even if you say you don't. off-handedly, he'd mention Barry's family, and look at you with some odd kind of longing.

boyfriend wesker!, who is incredibly protective deep down, but refuses to act out or make either of you look foolish. if you're getting hit on, he'll intervene on your behalf and simply pull you aside. he knows it's not your fault. he could never be mad at you, his primrose.

boyfriend wesker!, who has a very big soft spot for you. while he's cold with anyone else, you are the only one he'll let some of his walls down for. he feels bad for lying to you about certain things, but he has good intentions- or so he thinks.

boyfriend wesker!, whose feelings are stronger than he thought they could be for someone. his heart yearns for you at all times, and though he doesn't say it often, he would kill for you. his own feelings scare him at times- when he wakes up in the middle of the night, you by his side snoring away, and wonders how he got here in the first place. it's those times he might pull away and try to close himself up again.

boyfriend wesker!, who pushes you away when he can't handle his feelings. he reprimands himself for not being in control of himself- that's all he really wants, control. he tries to keep himself at a good distance so you're content with him, so you trust him. he doesn't realize he's manipulating you, nor that he's hurting you. he doesn't think he can.

boyfriend wesker!, who, when you end up leaving him (as you should), doesn't bat an eye. although it does hurt, he knows better than to beg, god forbid cry, at your feet as an attempt to keep you for longer. he has never been that kind of man. instead, he wishes you well and helps you pack your things. of course he's curious as to why you're leaving and in due time, he'll make all your suspicions come to life. soon enough. he'll confirm your worst fears- that he's been hiding from you, lying to you, for your entire relationship.

ex-boyfriend wesker!, who, months after the breakup, isn't over you. still sleeps with a shirt you left behind used as a pillowcase for a pillow he hugs to get comfortable. he'll wake up in the morning at times and feel around for you, his heart sinking in his chest at the reality of your absence. when he gets ready and stares annoyedly at himself in the mirror while he brushes his teeth. imagines it's you slicking his hair back with a light-feeling gel instead of himself. if he thinks about it for too long, he can hear you making little comments about how long his hair has gotten or how soft it is. his lips press into a thinner line at that, and his jaw clenches.

ex-boyfriend wesker!, who carries out his plans to get rid of S.T.A.R.S. and wonders what you'd think of him now after he's tried to kill his employees (and almost succeeds. that damn Chris.) you wouldn't look at him the same, but the twisted and frankly delusional part of him hopes you'll tell him that it's okay. that you'll still kiss him how you used to, or touch his arm and reassure him that he didn't do anything wrong, that he's justified in his actions. although these delusions would only carry him so far, as he needs the real you- not just an apparition of you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Carpe Noctem 26

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, violence, blood, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

The car seat does little to assuage the spike driving deeper and deeper under your shoulder. You grip the wheel tight, in silence, as you follow your usual route back to Lloyd's place. Not home. No, you're only there as long as he lets you be. Last night was a message received.

You pull up the long drive and come to a stop beside his car. You lean forward, groaning as another zap runs up your neck. You whimper and stay as you are, mustering the strength to go inside.

A tap disturbs your agonized trance and you push yourself up, straightening your arms as you keep a hold on the wheel. Lloyd's hand falls away from the window and he pulls on the handle. You reach to flip the lock up and let him open the door.

"You hidin' from me, buttercup?" He leans on the door, one foot hooked over the other.

"Nope, had some running around to do."

You slide your keys out of the ignition and grab your purse. You suck down the pain as you get out of the car and rip the door out from under his arm. He stands straight as you hit the lock button.

"Running around? Doing what, exactly?"

You look at him. His shadow looms in the evening, menacing and mean.

"Nothing you need to worry about. I'm home now, what do you need?"

He snorts, "what's the big deal? I'm curious. Daycare don't stay open that late--"

"Like I said, running around. Bank and stuff. Besides, what do you care?"

"I don't, not really, but I'm horny and I don't like waiting."

You suck in your cheeks. That much is clear about the man. He doesn't think above the waist. And you don't seem to have an ounce of good judgment, so whatever.

"Let me just get inside and I'll take care of you."

"Take care of me? How?" He asks giddily as he turns on his heel to stride in pace with you up the walk.

"However you like."

"You okay, Mimi, you sound... tense."

"Fine," you reach to rub your neck, "I'll just get washed up first."

"No need, I like it sweaty," he steps ahead of you and opens the door.

You go inside and keep your back to him as you roll your eyes. He can be absolutely disgusting. You knew that from the start, but you're still not sure why you chose to put up with it. It's almost worth it to go back to Johnny. Almost.

"I got an idea, you get naked, put an apron on, and I'll put you up on the counter again."

"Lloyd," you sigh as you put your purse down and peel off your jacket, "I'm really tired, can we just... be lazy?"

"Hmm, I guess, how about you get on your stomach, I like the view from back there."

"Sure," you kick off your boots. "I just need to get off my feet."

"Mmm, don't sound so excited."

You say nothing. You make a path to the couch, stripping as you do. Jeans then your shirt. FUCK! Another electric ripple that has you keeling over, barely catching yourself against the couch.

You untangle yourself from the shirt and push yourself up. Lloyd touches your back and you flinch, further jolting your neck. You nearly shriek, instead gnashing your teeth as you face him.

"What's up, doll face?"

"Nothing," you his out and strain to reach the back of your bra.

You unhook the clasps and turn away again. You shimmy out of your panties and move forward, getting onto your stomach. It feels nice, despite the circumstance. You angle your face towards the back of the couch.

You wait. Nothing happens. You push yourself up on your elbows and turn your head as far as you can to peek at Lloyd. You give him a 'well?' look.

"You know what," he shifts on his feet as he meets your eye. Usually he'd be too distracted by your ass, "I'm tired."

"Huh?" You drop your head back down, "right."

You steel yourself and sit up. You lean back and groan. God damn it! Everything hurts.

"Disappointed?" He asks.

"No," you say, more crisply than you intend.

You get up, fighting not to fall back, and gather your clothes up. You're embarrassed that you just flopped down like that for him and he backs out. Maybe he doesn't want you anymore. Good.

Or maybe not so good. You don't really have anywhere else to go. He knows that and just like everything else, he probably doesn't care.

“Did I do something?” You ask as you hug your clothes in front of you.

He won't look at you as he bounces on his feet. He shakes his head and clicks his tongue.

“Nope, just not feeling it,” he shrugs.

“Oh, have you eaten? I might make something–”

“Save it,” he waves you off and struts past you, “I got a call to make.”

He leaves you, confused and reeling. You drag your feet out to the entryway and grab your phone from your purse. You take it with you upstairs, hobbling a step at a time. You stumble into the guest room and drop your clothes.

You'll stay hungry. You're too tired and sore. You lay down and resign yourself to a grumbling stomach.

Your appeal should be done soon with the daycare. Worse comes to worst, you'll stay at the cafe and start applying to other places. You're not bound to Lloyd, he's made that crystal clear, so you better get ready to cut the cord.

[piracytheorist]

Episode 35 screaming notes!

So what if I'm emotional over a fictional, fake family spending one day of vacations together?

I love Twilight's comment about how he's glad the SSS is looking out for the bombing threat (and we know it's in vain), but it still puts him on edge to be stared at like this. He trusts them to protect civilian life (and Ostania's pride and joy of a ship) but he doesn't trust trust them, you get what I mean?

We shan't forget. The one thing this man can't pretend to be is someone who is having genuine fun and we'll drag his ass about it and then cry because this is a direct result of his traumatic childhood

Loid blushing when he spots Yor is so precious. I think it might be him blushing half because she saw his dorky skipping and half because… well. He might be falling in love :)

He notices the swelling on Yor's face, but I think he wouldn't even suspect her at this point. He sounded mostly worried about her.

And of course, Anya wasn't plaguing her with questions because she knows all, but it's funny that neither went like "Isn't our super curious five six-year-old going to ask where this bruise and swelling is from?"

SCREAMS

The following montage was absolutely adorable, and the insert song just made it even cuter. I love how it was Anya who lead them to each activity; neither Loid nor Yor had to drag her around anywhere, their attention was on her and on what she wanted. They even explored a cave! She was their priority, she truly must have had an amazing time and this is such a sweet way to end this cruise!

I mean, look. One of the ways Twilight learns how to parent is by fearing 24/7 that his daughter may fall. Very normal things.

Maybe it's because I'm the youngest child, so whenever we were out as a family and I asked to do something my parents would usually decline, because they had two more kids to look after and a place to go, but I have a lot of appreciation for the Forgers going around the resort and stopping to do whatever and anything Anya asked to do.

Very normal man who is definitely not an elite-trained spy trying to fit in. Normal things.

And like. Okay. Yor looking at Anya with such a soft face as Anya is having pure unrestrained fun is one thing.

BUT THEN THEY HIT US WITH THIS???

OH MY GOD. MY GOD. THIS MAN IS IN LOVE AND HE HAS NO FUCKING CLUE.

Like, for real. I can't stop looking at this. It's just his eyes but there's so much longing and yearning in them and also some sadness because deep down he thinks that what he wants is something he'll never get but this is really deep because it'll take him about three to five business years to accept he's grown feelings.

Like. It's not just "growing feelings" anymore. You don't look at someone like THIS when you're just "warming up" to them. He'd grown so accustomed to life with the Forgers that after Yor was away - though in the very same ship as them - for a couple of days he went all yearning looks and doe-y eyes at her when he met with her again. He's in LOVE.

I am so excited to see how their dynamic will develop from now on! It's gone on an entirely new page!

Anyway. I love how Yor went like "Oh they might see the wound on my chest" for the snorkeling but when she saw they could wear wetsuits she went like oh that's okay then and DIDN'T WORRY AT ALL ABOUT THE FACT THAT SHE'D GET SALTWATER ON HER WOUNDS. THIS WOMAN EATS HOT COALS FOR BREAKFAST AND WHITE HOT IRONS FOR LUNCH.

I mean, I'm guessing she is a fast healer and her wounds are not openly bleeding anymore but still. Hardcore.

And of course she'd beat the shit out of sharks. It's funny seeing the trio try to come up with excuses now but I think it's going to be a different type of good post-reveal, cause they'll be like "I have nothing to hide" and act on their abilities without a single moment of hesitation. Imagine Yor beating up sharks and Loid and Anya looking at her with heart eyes.

Aw, but look at them snorkeling. It's Yor who is holding Anya. I wonder what Yor's thinking is on that since she thinks that Loid is Anya's biological father and has been longer in her life. I doubt she thinks anything bad about Loid, but it is something that would make someone wonder.

I was so impressed by everything in the episode up until that point that I completely missed what the dialogue there was XD I only had more thoughts after I rewatched it.

Anya is having fun looking at the colourful fish. Yor has hunting in mind. Loid is… not impressed XD

Though very light, this could be a reflection of their characters. Anya is a child full of curiosity for the world, easily impressed by new stuff; she loved the aquarium, and she loved seeing new fish from up close.

Yor's encounters with animals were either for hunting (for food) or with guard dogs from people she was sent to kill. She understands the concept of pet animals, of course, but it seems to be a "secret third option", as tumblr would say. Her first instincts are either hunting or fighting, and since those fish were too small to be any threat (I mean, she's confident about fighting sharks), her mind went to food.

And then you have Loid. His wide knowledge of the world has rendered him almost incapable of getting impressed. There's nothing new for him to learn in anything… except for child rearing, of course. And maybe human connection. And so, he seems to be looking at those two in the last shot.

Just like Gram, Anya gets thrown around by a professional, super strong assassin and she just goes like "Again!" And Loid doesn't even make a comment about Yor pushing Anya too strong. He really took to heart and meant it when he told Yor that her being strong is one of the things that make her an amazing mother.

AND THEN THAT SCENE

I had guessed right, as Yor had indeed not rested at all for the entire three days of the cruise and had a long and intense fight the night before. AND THUS FANSERVICE HAPPENS <3 <3 <3

DON'T MIND IF I DO <3

ENDO KNEW WHAT HE WAS DOING <3

No but seriously, there's a lot to love about this moment. Apart from how cute it is, Twilight at first only seems annoyed by how this attracts attention to them. He was already alert from how the SSS was looking at everyone, this would only add to his uneasiness.

But it doesn't take long for him to find an excuse for his wife. Blaming all her exhaustion on her work, being thankful for her going along with everything Anya asked to do, and smiling at her!! Bruh!! And he STILL can't see it, this man is such a good liar he can even lie to himself!!

Seriously the way Eguchi delivered those lines? Superb <3

AND THEN THE FAMILY THEME PLAYED AND I WAS LOSING MY MIND.

They didn't have to go so hard T_T It was a relaxing (and quite prolonged!) chapter to wrap up the cruise arc, but it was wonderful T_T

Even the Handler is up to him, though. Fullmetal Lady won't fall for his emotionally constipated bullshit.

AND I THOUGHT IT COULDN'T GET ANY CUTER!

She even drew the family in their colours! Yor in red, herself in pink, and Loid in a muted green! I can see Yor holding one of her stilettos, but what is the other thing? A rose? I don't think I can tell what Anya is doing in the drawing, but Loid looks like he's holding a bomb? Or a surfboard?

AAAAAHHH It was wonderful!! T_T

The parts with Yor and her coworkers and Yuri and Lieutenant Guy were actually added by the anime! I feel Yor about the gifts. I'm so bad at gifts you have no idea. And Yuri is on another level, he doesn't stop talking about his sister and he tells Lieutenant Guy "Are you psychic or something" and he's like "Sure sure". And this being this kind of show I was like "MAYBE???" but yeah no he was just messing with Yuri XD

Hey psst. You know what will look even more convincing? If you both slept on those pillows 👀👀 next to each other 👀👀

I was cringing so hard at the scene in the school! Anya! We love you as you are, you don't need to go embarrass yourself!

It was interesting, though, to see that Damian stayed out of it all. It's proof that he can mind his business and keep his opinion to himself. I hope he learns to do that more often.

Becky continues being best friend material <3 Anya is so lucky for real

It's been less than a week

It's so funny to me that the anime added the detail that it was Loid who picked the snacks for Yuri. I wonder how quickly Yuri would spit them out upon learning that XD

My mans tired. I felt kinda sad for him ngl XD

Okay, this was hilarious. His paternal instincts are starting to kick in to the point where he imagines teaching Anya the proper methods of deception. It was also funny that as Yuri was imagining his speech, I went like "Uhm you lie to your sister no?" and before I got to finish that thought, the excuses kicked in.

And Anya is starting to learn that actions have consequences.

This isn't what she manipulated two enemies of the state into adopting her for.

TWO EPISODES LEFT T_T I might have to pick up making crack recaps again for however long the next hiatus will last :'D

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hi! I wanted to ask you something, since I really enjoy how you characterize the relationship between a grumpy, lonely, stoic, angry etc. character like Ghost (though I don’t know if I’d say he’s angry) and a love interest. What would those first few interactions be like, (would she seek him out, and would it annoy or confuse him) and what characteristics would he see early on in her to realize that he likes her. I can see someone like him avoiding her initially, until his feelings are too strong and then he’s all in. I don’t know, maybe that’s an incorrect interpretation. Also you kind of already answered this question in a previous ask, but I just love how in depth your character analysis is!! Hope your day goes really really well and thanks for giving us all some fantastic stories!!

First of all, thank you for your interest and praise! Also, this is such a lovely, cute question ️🩷✨️ I certainly don't consider myself as any kind of a Ghost expert, but I absolutely love to share my thoughts on him and love to hear other people's thoughts on this man too 💕

My thoughts on this under the cut ->

"I can see someone like him avoiding her initially, until his feelings are too strong and then he's all in."

Yes, me too, definitely! Trust issues are one reason for avoidance, but I have this HC about Ghost having an ominous feeling that he's born with bad luck. He has this almost superstitious belief that shit will hit the fan whenever he turns his back. That's why he's so gloomy: quotes like "People you know can hurt you the most" and "Choices have consequences" come to mind... The latter imho is a perfect example on Ghost's instinctual belief in Murphy's law instead of being a neutral, logical take on how laws of cause and effect work.

This inner conviction that tragedy and disaster follow him wherever he goes is why he subconsciously steers clear of relationships and, in fact, any chance of happiness: because happiness is always followed by immense pain in his world of experience.

But like you said, if he gets "trapped," it's challenging for him to pull back anymore. He's curious by nature and gets a kick out of physical intimacy and extremes - and love and lust are one of the most intense experiences there is! Violence can be viewed as a profound, distorted form of intimacy (like... this guy is an expert in hugging people from behind and plunging a knife in them 🫠), so of course passionate sex is like a drug to him. Tender lovemaking or rough rutting – as long as he's present and his partner is present too.

So I'd say he's drawn in by physical attraction and sex first (not that he would be into superficial hookups, I think he'd rather deprive himself of sex altogether than have a series of shallow one-night stands), and this would eventually lead to feelings which grow in depth until he cannot keep himself away any longer.

I think people like Ghost could be compared to a wild animal or an abused dog 🥲 so it's better to let him "sniff" you first. Smothering him with attention and demands will only drive him away. But after he sees you 1. are not a threat 2. accept him as he is 3. give him the occasional treat (lol), there's a good chance he will eventually trust you and attach himself to you.

(Again, I can't believe this is my life now: talking folk psychology about a traumatized fictional man on Tumblr, but here we are, this is fine ☕️✨️)

Ghost also has to feel he's needed in the relationship, just the way he wants to feel qualified and capable in his work. If you try to force him to be something he's not, he will likely leave – simply because he doesn't want his partner to settle for anything but the best. But if he gets a feeling that he is needed and can provide and be of service to his partner, he will do anything in his power to make them feel protected, safe, and content (in that order). I also think he prefers to feel useful rather than be admired – that's why he would consider a friends with benefits setup insufficient. Also, feelings! If he senses he's just being used while slowly developing something more than just horny feels for the other person, it will only make him resentful and, again, drive him away.

"-what characteristics would he see early on in her to realize that he likes her."

It's difficult to say because I don't think Ghost has a particular "type." It's more about the chemistry and little things to him: I see him as a man of detail, so it might be something very fleeting and minimal in a person that catches his attention.

But if by characteristics you mean what kind of behavior he appreciates (not sure if I got this question right), then perhaps patience paired with acceptance and compassion. I think he wants his partner to be independent... and dependent on him. Like I said earlier, he wants to feel needed but doesn't want to be smothered. He wants to feel useful but not used. He demands unconditional loyalty but despises childlike codependency.

I wrote a standalone sequel to Refugee a while ago and will post it here soon, in it I explore your question on what the first interactions would be like (from Ghost's POV). 💞

I'd love to hear people's thoughts on this! Or any Ghost & relationships topics for that matter 😍

[ckret2]

bill doesnt really strike me as the type to be really into listening to music, but if he were, do you think there are any particular genres/artists he would enjoy/hate less?

You're in luck because I've put COPIOUS thought into this.

Here's all the canon and semi-canon info about Bill's musical tastes I can recall off the top of my head:

ONE. From the AMA, his favorite "song" is a rising Shepard tone.

*MY FAVORITE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5rzIiF7LpPU

TWO. He is interested in the "good stuff" out of human pop culture, which includes the song "96 Tears" by Question Mark & The Mysterians.

Are you at all interested in human pop culture?

JUST THE GOOD STUFF! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R7uC5m-IRns

THREE. He knows the song "Stacy's Mom". This says nothing about whether he likes the song, but he's knowledgeable enough about recent human pop culture that he can casually drop a reference to it in a joke. It's probably safe to assume he's familiar with a broad variety of popular human music.

Hey Bill. What's up with Wendy's mom?

WENDY'S MOM HAS GOT IT GOING ON. SHE'S ALL I WANT AND I'VE WAITED FOR SO LONG.

FOUR. When he gives himself a super cool car its radio is playing a rap song. I wasn't able to find any identification for the song, but it sounds to me like it could potentially be by Lil Bigg Dawggg, the same in-universe artist behind "Straight Blanchin'"—so, extremely popular mainstream rap. (Song heard at 2:50).

FIVE. He's got some kind of generic-sounding electronic dance music playing during his Fearamid party.

SIX. The "We'll Meet Again" scene. He can play the piano. I suppose you could choose to believe that Mr. All-Seeing All-Knowing Eye can play any instrument and he just happens to pick the piano for effect—he might not even actually be playing, since the song keeps playing itself when he turns away—but I choose to believe he's playing it and at some point he actually made the choice to learn piano for fun just because he wanted to. As someone who took piano lessons for over a decade, assuming that is indeed his own playing, I'd rate him as competent and skilled (that's a pretty impressive run at the start), but no virtuoso. He'd be a hit at the family holiday party but not in a concert hall. The choice of "We'll Meet Again" might mean he's got a soft spot for WW2-era popular music but might just be a "he knows human popular music and will freely reference it for a joke" thing.

SEVEN. "No! Synthesized music! It hurts!" Considering the circumstances, this may or may not actually apply to his musical tastes. Maybe only this particular synthesized music hurt him because Mabel had specifically decided that Xyler and Craz's music would injure Bill, maybe only extremely 80s-sounding synthesizers hurt him, etc. Most damning to the theory that he's got some kind of synthesized music allergy is the fact that almost all the music he's shown to voluntarily listen to and presumably enjoy (rising Shepard tones, the rap song, the party music) makes use of synthesized sounds. Still, it's worth mentioning that this is something he said at one point. (At 2:06.)

If anyone else recalls anything I missed about Bill's musical listening habits, toss it at me.

So, that's what we've got canonically. On that basis, here's what I headcanon about his tastes:

ONE: favorite music

His absolute favorite "music" is stuff that doesn't sound like music to humans at all. So sounds that are created to follow certain patterns (not quite as random as, say, pure white noise); and on top of that, sounds that, subjectively, sound extra creepy to humans or make humans anxious (think how folks claim Shepard tones can drive people "insane"). So think nuclear alarm sirens, unnerving tornado sirens, War of the World tripod horns, Saturn, foghorns, The Backwards Music Station. If you want some actual music that sounds as close to these kinds of sounds as possible, thus far I've collected Curious Noises & Distant Voices, 20210310, Happy Happy Happy—and if you want to start drifting into more "musical" sounding genres, Tira Me a Las Aranas or Ledge.

I feel like noise as a genre ought to have a lot of music that fits the sound I'm looking for, but in practice a lot of what I've crossed paths with is really harsh/loud—sounds like breaking machines and blasting microphones—rather than the more swoopy tones I'm looking for. I think of all the noise subgenres I've sampled, death industrial noise is the closest subgenre to what I want, but it's not quite there either. I've had some success looking at hauntology artists, but that's a pretty big umbrella stylistically speaking. Does anybody know a genre that sits somewhere halfway between noise & ambient?

TWO: favorite human music

So that's that for Bill's alien musical tastes. As far as his human musical tastes, he cites Question Mark & The Mysterians specifically as "the good stuff"—so I imagine that's probably his idea of the best kind of music humanity's produced. So: extremely sixties. Hammond organs out the wazoo. Bands with occult-sounding names and lead singers who claim to be Martians that lived with dinosaurs and will be alive in the year 10,000. I tend to tilt him toward bands/songs that fall under the "psychedelic" umbrella, considering that the aesthetic tends to be kinda, well... just go google "psychedelic art."

Tell me this isn't what Earth would look like by Weirdmageddon day 30 when Bill starts to get bored. I mean come on. The only difference is Bill's version would have more fire and blood.

So start with some of your traditional psychedelic songs—Incense and Peppermints, White Rabbit, Breathe (In The Air), Time Of The Season, Purple Haze, Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds, etc.—and branch out from there. Slap on any decent psychedelic/hippie-themed playlist and you're good: try this hippie playlist, this psychedelic pop/rock playlist, or this dark psychedelic playlist.

Once you get past the more mainstream stuff, I go toward weird things that sound like they ought to be from a lost 1960s art house film that accidentally predicted the rise of UFO cults—things that vibe with Bill's occult + conspiracy theory + faux religious figure vibes. Think Bruce Haack, such as the album Electric Lucifer, particularly Electric to Me Turn, Cherubic Hymn, or War; Joe Meek's album I Hear a New World, particularly the title track or Orbit Around the Moon; or the particularly alien-sounding The Red Weed (Part 1) off Jeff Wayne's War of the Worlds.

And after all that, I poke at modern psychedelic rock songs that lean more heavily into witchy & occult imagery—such as Astral Sabbat or Come a Little Closer—but by this point we're really on the fringe of the sound I'm looking for. There isn't nearly enough Hammond organ.

THREE: favorite human party music

Now, compared to the last couple of sections, this section is gonna be something of a cop-out, because I've done less musical digging; but when it comes to what he'll slap on for a party—which I imagine makes up probably a good 75% of his casual music consumption—he's just gonna slap on any popular current music he thinks is good for a party.

Currently? That probably means a lot of hip hop and EDM. Okay. In the 80s he probably woulda put on disco. In the 21st century he'd put on Get Low, First of the Year, Shots, DotA, Intergalactic, and Dragostea Din Tei (hardstyle remix), in a row, without a second thought, and with no heed to the humans going "what the FUCK is this party mix." These are not the best examples of what he'd play; just the first, most cringe, and most discordant examples I could think of. The more easily a potential party song can be described as stylistically or lyrically "obnoxious," the more likely it is to make his playlist. Does it sound like it should be played extremely loud? Would it offend the neighbors? Does it have a bass line that sounds like it could crack concrete and break ribs? Would humans recognize it as part of a widely-known meme, but not know whether Bill (an alien) is oblivious or if Bill (a troll) added it for that reason? It's going on, he's hitting shuffle, and it's not coming off the party playlist until he gets bored of it and finds something newer and even more obnoxious to replace it with.

If anyone has any good recommendations for specific genres that would yield a reasonable pool of Party Songs That Would Get Noise Complaints Filed (And Also Don't Go Together At All), I'm willing to take them. My gut says crunk and dubstep, but my hip hop knowledge is lacking and my EDM knowledge is extremely eclectic.

(Anyway if you made it this far I'm rewarding you with a link to my Bill Cipher spotify playlist I listen to when writing fic. It's 50% songs that I think actually match the "music he'd like" categories, 50% songs that are about him but that he wouldn't necessarily like, 50% songs about his relationship issues, 10% songs that are NONE OF THE ABOVE but that need to be in there because I need them for fic-writing vibes, and one single solitary song that is not actually about Bill at all, but rather about Pacifica, but that i put on the playlist anyway because it's a REALLY GOOD Pacifica song and I don't have any other Gravity Falls themed playlists so here it is. "That adds up to 160%—" and what of it. The percentages aren't even accurate.)

[gaykamenriderdreams]

Ok so like. Everyone and their grandmother who watches Gotchard knows that Kurogane Spanner thinks Chemies are "just tools". Like, he just straight up says it, here it is, badda bing

But like. And hear me out on this one. I think this is more complicated than just "oh the rival character is a bastard who thinks puppies don't have feelings and therefore it's okay to go around kicking them all day"

Because I think Spanner thinks of himself as "just a tool" too.

(I am physically incapable of writing a post that doesn't get long so the rest of this is going under the cut. Spoilers up to episode 14)

I mean, just from a design standpoint, the guy has a wrench for a face half the time. There's definitely something to be said for Valvarad's mask being representative of how Spanner presents himself, or even thinks about himself (especially since Spanner created the Valvarad suit single-handedly, apparently????)

Also just like. The guy's first name. Is freaking Spanner.

Like, one of these??? And that's just his name???

Like I mean a bit on the nose but alright. Also, if he picked that name himself (and with a name like that, it seems likely). What motivated that. I simply must know.

(Diversity win! Local Trans Man absolutely hated by Every Area Teen because he's just such a bastard at all times!)

Also, for all his talk about Chemies being tools, he really doesn't treat them poorly. Like he DOES say that he really doesn't care about collecting them, he's just doing his job (performing his function, you could say)--

But like, this is also the same guy that has three Vehicle Chemies that are just his that he does not like being apart from even for less than two minutes

Like we all done been knew that Sabimaru has a special interest in Occult-type Chemies, you can just SAY you're only interested in Vehicle Chemies.

Or he could just, y'know. Have three Chemies that he really cares about and be content with that. Like those pokemon NPCs with six Magikarp and no interest in getting anything else.

And it's extra odd because we've been told that higher number Chemies are just plain stronger than the others (at least when used by regular alchemists for combat), but none of Spanner's Chemies are level 9. And he doesn't need to use number combos like Ichinose does- so why doesn't he just have three 9s and call it a day? Even IF Valvarad only works with Vehicle Chemies, why doesn't he have Golddash and Steamliner (7 and 9) instead of Gekiocopter and Madwheel (4 and 6)? We just don't know. But it could be because he cares about His Three Chemies Specifically, as much as he verbally denies it.

And another thing. Even when things go wrong, he doesn't take it out on his Chemies!

When Gekiocopter hits their altitude limit and can't take Valvarad any higher, he doesn't express any frustration towards his Chemy. I feel like if he really hated Chemies in general, he'd get mad at Gekiocopter and replace them with a higher-flying Chemy as soon as possible. But he doesn't.

Sure, Gekiocopter is "a tool"... but you don't get angry at a tool for asking it to perform past its specs. It's your fault in the first place for not respecting its limitations when you chose to use it. All the pressure and vitriol in the world won't suddenly make the impossible possible. (I wonder, is this empathy? An understanding of what it's like to be pressed to the breaking point? From one alchemist's tool to another? Surely not.)

And with episode 14 hinting that some things previously assumed to be part of his personality may be "just following orders..." And with how useless he's got to be feeling, losing over and over again despite having spent so much time and effort forging himself into a weapon for the alchemists to use as they see fit... aghhhhh I'm soooo curious where they're going with all this. THERE'S POTENTIAL.

Anyway. All this is not to get anyone to like the guy (though as you can tell, I'm a big fan). I just really wanted to express my thoughts about how there could be more than just "generic jerk" going on under the hood for this car crash of a human being.

TLDR: Kurogane Spanner is a massive tool (derogatory) (complimentary)