#i'll apply like i apply for all the jobs that could fit me

[fairydustedtheory]

-

[ama0310]

Bubblegum Bitch

Character: Aaron Hotchner

Requested: No

Type: Song Fic, Angst/Fluff

Summary: Hotch never thought he'd fall in love again—until he met Y/N.

Author's Note: Based on Bubblegum Bitch by MARINA

***************************

Meeting the Unit Chief should have been terrifying, but for you, it was exhilarating. Strauss had recently transferred you to the BAU from the Counter-Terrorism Division.

You suspected she added you to the team to ruffle the Unit Chief's feathers. It might have bothered you if it hadn’t come with a nice bump in your paycheck.

The moment Hotch saw you, he knew you were trouble. He just didn't realize how much trouble until your very first case.

Got a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll Don't care if you think I'm dumb, I don't care at all

You stood before the mirror in a dingy motel bathroom, applying the finishing touches to your makeup. The skin-tight leather mini dress hugged every curve, transforming you into the perfect bait for the unsub who had been terrorizing local nightclubs.

Hotch's reflection appeared behind you, his face etched with worry. "Y/L/N, I really don't think you're ready for this."

You turned, cocking an eyebrow as you placed your hands on your hips. "And why is that, sir?"

Hotch's response was immediate and brutally honest. "You're still new, never been face-to-face with an unsub, let alone undercover. You're reckless, difficult to control, and frankly, a loose cannon. Need I go on?"

I'll chew you up and I'll spit you out

A smirk played at your lips as you sauntered towards him, invading his personal space. The scent of your perfume mingled with the tension in the air. "Look, Hotchie," you purred, noting how he stiffened at the nickname, "I was transferred here for a reason. I know what this job entails. So be my boss and let me do it."

You could see the internal struggle playing out behind Hotch's eyes. His professional concern warred with something else – an attraction he was clearly trying to suppress. You were a walking danger sign, and part of him was drawn to that fire.

"First," he said, his voice low and controlled, "don't call me that. Second, I'm not trying to offend you. I simply think Emily might be better suited for this operation. You can take points next time."

You scoffed, taking a step back. "Next time? With all due respect, sir, I fit the victimology perfectly, and you know it. I've spent the last hour transforming myself into exactly what this creep is looking for. If I don't do this, he'll likely claim another victim before we can catch him. So again, Hotchie," you emphasized the nickname, watching him bristle, "let me do my job. Don't make me have to disobey orders."

Without waiting for a response, you slipped on your stilettos and brushed past him, the warmth of your body tantalizingly close for a moment before you were gone.

Hotch watched you go, a mix of admiration and trepidation swirling in his gut. You were brilliant, fearless, and undeniably effective. But you were also unpredictable, pushing boundaries at every turn. As he followed you out, preparing to oversee the operation, one thought echoed in his mind:

Definitely trouble.

Candy bear, sweetie pie, wanna be adored I'm the girl you'd die for

Over the past few months, you had become the team's radiant beacon of positivity, your presence a cure for the often-dark nature of their work. Even the usually stoic Hotch, though he'd never admit it aloud, had fallen under your spell.

It was impossible not to be drawn to your infectious energy. Each morning, you breezed into the bullpen, a whirlwind of warmth and enthusiasm. Your greetings were accompanied by compliments, tailored to brighten each team member's day. After particularly grueling cases, the aroma of your famous blueberry muffins would fill the office, a comforting reminder that there was still sweetness in the world. You even patiently endured Spencer's lengthy tangents, sparing the others from information overload.

As the team prepared to head out for a new case, you sprinted across the parking lot, your laughter echoing off the concrete walls. "Shotgun!" you called out triumphantly, playfully shoving past Spencer to claim the coveted front seat next to Hotch.

Your friendship with the young doctor had blossomed quickly, bonded by your shared status as the "kids" of the team. While the others sometimes found his endless stream of facts overwhelming, you delighted in his knowledge, often engaging him in spirited debates that left the rest of the team both amused and bewildered.

The unit chief's lips twitched, fighting back a smile as he watched your antics. Spencer, mock indignation coloring his voice, appealed to their leader. "Hotch, come on! She rode shotgun last time. It's my turn, isn't it?"

Hotch cleared his throat, his tone stern but his eyes betraying a hint of amusement. "Y/N, you know the rules. It is indeed Reid's turn to sit up front."

You turned to face Hotch, unleashing the full power of your most irresistible puppy dog eyes. Your lower lip jutted out ever so slightly as you pleaded silently. Behind you, Spencer let out a resigned sigh, already knowing he'd lost this battle. Your ability to wrap Hotch around your finger was legendary among the team, even if the man himself was loath to acknowledge it.

Hotch held your gaze for a moment, visibly wavering. With a barely perceptible shake of his head, he started the engine, tacitly allowing you to keep your place.

Victorious, you twisted in your seat to face Spencer, sticking out your tongue in a childish display of triumph.

"Y/N!" Hotch's voice held a note of warning, though it lacked any real heat.

You straightened immediately, your voice dripping with faux innocence. "Sorry, sir!"

The apology was hollow, and you both knew it. As Hotch pulled out of the parking lot, you caught the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Your sunny persona had once again melted the ice around the unit chief's heart.

Oh, dear diary, I met a boy He made my doll heart light up with joy

The realization hit you like a thunderbolt – you were hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Aaron Hotchner. For the first time in your life, you felt a fear that chilled you to your core.

How could someone like him ever reciprocate such feelings? The cons seemed endless: a decade age gap, your extroverted nature clashing with his stoicism, your wild spirit at odds with his controlled demeanor. Not to mention the professional boundary – you were his employee, AND  he was still navigating the aftermath of his recent divorce.

Your newfound awareness of your feelings for Hotch led to a desperate attempt at avoidance. It was hard, given how intertwined your lives had become over the months. For a week, you'd been dodging his texts, offering only cursory greetings, and maintaining a physical distance that felt painfully unnatural.

Hotch noticed the change immediately, and it gnawed at him. Your vibrant presence had become a constant in his life, a source of warmth he hadn't realized he'd come to depend on until it was suddenly gone.

He found himself missing the little rituals that had naturally developed between you. The morning car rides, once a practical solution to your car troubles, had evolved into a cherished start to each day. Your habit of bringing him a piece of candy during lunch breaks, with the excuse of "sweetening up his day," never failed to bring a smile to his face. Most of all, he missed the casual physical contact – the way you'd unconsciously place your hand on his arm when standing close, a gesture that grounded him more than he cared to admit.

As the week progressed, Hotch's concern deepened. Had he unknowingly offended you? He wracked his brain, trying to pinpoint any misstep. Perhaps the latest case had affected you more than usual, or maybe you were simply exhausted. Whatever the reason, he was determined to lift your spirits.

During his lunch break, Hotch made his way to your favorite café. The aroma of freshly baked goods enveloped him as he ordered your usual – a ham and cheese croissant and your preferred coffee blend. Back at the office, he noticed your empty desk and quickly left the bag before retreating to his office.

When you returned from the restroom, steeling yourself for an afternoon of paperwork, the sight of the familiar bag on your desk stopped you in your tracks. With trembling hands, you opened it to find the still-warm croissant and perfectly prepared coffee. Atop the container, a piece of candy was taped to a note that read: "To sweeten your day up! – Hotch"

Your heart swelled, a mix of joy and ache flooding your chest. Looking up, you caught Hotch watching you from his office window. Despite your best efforts to maintain distance, you couldn't help but offer him the radiant smile he'd come to cherish.

In that moment, the truth was undeniable. You were completely, utterly, and hopelessly in love with Aaron Hotchner. As your eyes locked with his, a flicker of something – hope, perhaps? – passed between you, hinting that maybe, just maybe, these obstacles weren't quite so impossible after all.

Oh, dear diary, we fell apart Welcome to the life of Electra Heart

Aaron Hotchner never imagined falling in love after Haley left. His life revolved around his job and Jack. He didn't need anyone else. That is, until you entered his life.

You were the first to sense something was wrong when he didn't answer his phone. Racing to his apartment, you found it covered in blood. With Penelope's help, you tracked him to a hospital, learning he'd been stabbed nine times.

When he opened his eyes and saw you, Hotch thought he'd died and gone to heaven. You looked angelic - an angel he couldn't bear to see harmed.

So when George Foyet shot him in his own home, Hotch realized he needed to end whatever was blossoming between you before you got hurt.

But you made it difficult.

The moment he was released, you were there every day, before and after work. Groceries, cleaning, anything to ease his burden. You knew how hard it was for him to send Haley and Jack away, how alone he must feel. You were determined to show him the team - and you - were there for him. For anything.

Driving him home after the Darrin Call case, where he'd recklessly entered a house without backup, your anger finally boiled over.

"What the hell were you thinking, Aaron?" you demanded, following him into his apartment. "No gun, no vest, no backup. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Hotch turned, his face a mask of stone. "I knew the profile. I had it under control."

"Under control?" you scoffed. "If it were anyone else, you'd have suspended them! This isn't you, Aaron. What's going on?"

His eyes flashed. "What's going on is I'm the Unit Chief, and I don't answer to you. I think before I act, unlike some people."

The barb stung. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he said coldly. "Just find it ironic you're lecturing me on recklessness."

"I've never walked into a hostage situation alone and unarmed!" you countered.

"I don't have to explain myself," Hotch snapped. "Especially not to you. Get out."

Your eyes widened. "No. We're talking about this. You're spiraling, Aaron. This obsession with Foyet-"

"Stop. You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I know you're not alone in this!" you pleaded. "The team needs you. I need you."

Hotch laughed bitterly. "If you haven't noticed, I am alone. My son is gone. I have no one. And I won't rest until Foyet is dead."

Tears welled in your eyes. "You have us. You have me. We can figure this out together."

"There is no 'we,'" Hotch said, his voice cold and final. "There never was."

The words hit like a physical blow. "Don't say that. You know that's not true."

For a moment, his mask slipped, revealing the pain beneath. But then it was back, harder than ever. "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."

You stared at him, hurt turning to anger. "Go to hell, Hotchner," you spat, before storming out, leaving him alone with the wreckage of what might have been.

I'm Miss Sugar Pink, liquor, liquor lips Hit me with your sweet love, steal me with a kiss

Your relationship with Aaron had crumbled to dust. Since that night you stormed out of his apartment, you'd made it your mission to avoid him at all costs. Difficult, considering he was your boss.

You understood he was facing unimaginable challenges - the loss of his ex-wife, becoming a single parent. Part of you ached to support him, but you both needed space.

That space stretched into a year.

You'd left transfer papers on his desk days ago. Despite your love for the team, staying had become impossible. It wasn't fair to you or Hotch. Counter Terrorism Division beckoned - a fresh start.

You hadn't told the team yet, dreading their reactions. You'd become their wild, sassy, overdramatic little sister. But tonight wasn't about goodbyes. It was Spencer's birthday, and Derek had chosen a club to celebrate. You wouldn't miss it for the world.

Arriving in a hot pink mini dress and matching heels, you spotted the team immediately.

"Happy birthday, Boy Genius!" you exclaimed, hugging Spencer tight.

"Please," he whispered, "get me out of here. Derek's trying to set me up with his friend."

You laughed, ruffling his hair. "No can do, Spence. It's your night. Go crazy. I promise not to film anything too embarrassing."

Turning to greet the others, you froze. Hotch was there. You hugged everyone but him, pointedly avoiding his gaze.

"Damn, girl! You're on fire!" Penelope gushed, clearly tipsy.

Emily nodded appreciatively. "I'm borrowing those heels."

"You know how to make a girl feel special," you winked. "First round's on me!"

An hour later, you were dancing with Penelope and Spencer, the alcohol buzzing through your veins. Suddenly, Spencer spun you – right into Hotch's arms. You glared at Spencer, who mouthed 'Karma' with a smirk.

The tension was strong as you and Hotch swayed silently. You wanted to escape, yet craved his touch.

"You requested a transfer," he stated, his voice low.

You quirked an eyebrow. "Did you sign it?"

"No."

You pulled back, stunned. "What do you mean, no?"

"We need to talk first."

Anger flared. "You're unbelievable," you spat, pushing past him and out of the club. He followed close behind.

"Y/N, please-"

You whirled to face him. "There's nothing to say. It's been a year, Hotch. Whatever we had is dead."

"You don't mean that," he insisted, his eyes burning into yours.

The alcohol amplified your emotions. "I do. I'm over it. Over you. There's nothing left to talk about."

"Then I'll talk, and you listen," he said firmly, gripping your shoulders. "There was a 'we'. Everything I said that night – it was a lie. To keep you safe from Foyet. He was targeting everyone I loved. I couldn't risk losing you."

Your heart stuttered. "You... loved me?"

"I still do," he breathed, cupping your face. "This past year has been hell. Not having you by my side – our carpool chats, sneaking candy, just... you. It was torture. I'll do anything to earn your forgiveness."

You wanted to resist, to make him suffer longer. But the alcohol, the longing, the raw emotion in his voice – it was too much. You threw your arms around him, burying your face in his neck.

You both exhaled, tension melting away. It felt right. It felt like coming home.

"I love you too," you murmured, then pulled back with a stern look. "But you've got a lot of making up to do."

He pressed his forehead to yours. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to. You deserve the world, Y/N, and I intend to give it to you."

Your lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, full of promise and the weight of a year apart.

As you parted, you whispered, "This doesn't mean I'm not still furious with you."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

I'm Miss Sugar Pink, liquor, liquor lips I'm gonna be your bubblegum bitch

Again, you were trouble. Even after two years together, you definitely kept him on his toes. Not transferring and working alongside your boyfriend made for an interesting way to live.

“What you did was stupid and reckless, Y/N.” Aaron's voice was stern as the team boarded the jet to head back home. The case had been a success, but it came at the cost of you getting into the unsub’s car without any weapons. Fortunately, you had your team.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at him. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Y/N. I’m serious.”

“Ooooo, Mom and Dad are fighting,” Spencer teased from across the jet.

“Shut up, Spencer,” you snapped, making him raise his hands in mock surrender. Then, you turned to Hotch. “You know damn well I needed to get into his car. If I didn’t and you caught him, he would’ve acted like he was just trying to get with me.”

Aaron rubbed the side of his head. Migraines. You gave him migraines. “The plan was for you to walk down the street, and the moment you were alone with him, we would get him. You went rogue.”

You rolled your eyes again. “Well, technically we were alone, and you did get him.”

He was about to argue again, but you wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him your infamous puppy dog face. “Aaron, I’m okay. You know I did what I had to do to catch him. I’m sorry I worried you, but I’m not sorry for helping bring him in.”

He sighed, knowing you were right, and he could never stay mad at you. “I hated every second of it. My heart stopped the moment you got into that damn car.”

You smiled and pecked him on the lips. “Hey, you always said I was going to give you a heart attack.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes before he kissed you. “You have, and you most definitely will again.”

“Hey, that’s what you love about me.”

“That is true.”

[yawnderu]

Thin Walls — Keegan P. Russ x Reader

Dbf!Keegan collab with the amazing @moosch MWAH

Check out her amazing drawing on this<3

There were rare times Keegan felt like he may have chosen the wrong job. Right now? Covered in dirt and grime, seeking shelter in an abandoned building with the rest of the ghosts after a particularly hard mission was one of those moments. What was supposed to be a three hour mission went downhill and turned into four long days of chasing down an enemy for intel.

The first thing he did as soon as the building was cleared was to fish for his phone, reading the thread of messages he had from you; ranging from telling him about your day, to complaining about missing him and how he owes you a shopping spree for going dark. He rolled his eyes, a deep chuckle rumbling out of his chest and escaping his lips. A new text caught his attention, scrolling down to read it.

Brat: [16:38]

I see you online, can we ft? Papa wants to see u :)

He stares at your message for a few seconds, considering his chances. Keegan looks like shit— eye black smudged messily all over his face, uniform dirty and muddy, a streak of dried up blood dripping down his forehead, and icy blue eyes so tired you would think he died and was never informed. He didn't want you or your father; his best friend, to see him at his worst.

Glucose Father: [16:40]

Sorry princess, signs too shitty for that. Send me some pics of that bratty face and maybe I'll take you shopping when I'm back?

He internally cringed at the text, rarely even using his phone unless it was to text your father and you. His fingers tap on the sides of his phone as he waited for a reply, putting the idle chatter of the ghosts in the back of his mind as he went to another room with the excuse of being able to get some sleep once and for all.

For a second, he ignored the phone vibrating in his hand, leaning against the wall and sitting down with a groan, sore muscles finally able to rest, even if only for a few hours.

Brat [16:43]

Sent 6 attachments.

His tired eyes drifted down to his phone, opening the message and being received by the sight of you, a smile adorning your pretty face. His gaze softened and his pants tightened as he noticed you wearing one of his shirts, fitting into it so much better than he could. He stayed quiet for a few seconds, listening to the chatter on the other side of the thin wall before his free hand drifted down to his growing bulge, holding back a groan as he palmed his sensitive cock over his pants.

"Fuck..." He whispered, hesitantly lowering his fly enough to pull his dick out, gloveless hand feeling the length of it before he started stroking slowly, moving his hand up and down while he looked at your pictures. They were completely innocent pictures, really, simply showing your pretty face and bright smile, yet he couldn't help it.

He was trying his best to be quiet despite how good jerking off felt after so much stress. His head was tilted back against the wall, eyes screwed shut as his mind came up with the filthiest fucking images, thinking of your lips wrapped around his cock, struggling to take him as he fucked your face. He could just imagine the noises that would come out of you as his thick dick was shoved all the way down your throat, a deep growl coming out of his lips as his rough fingers massaged his tip, spreading the leaking precum and using it as lube to jerk off better.

He swapped to another photo of you smiling brightly at the camera, holding up a piece sign. What a fucking sight for sore eyes. He imagined your pretty face glazed in his thick white cum, tongue tainted by his seed. His hand involuntary moved faster and harder up and down his cock, applying more pressure with each stroke until he had to bite his lip to stop himself from making too much noise, aware enough of the thin walls.

He couldn't wait to go back home to you, making you cuddle up to him and holding you like a lifeline, the plush of your ass pressing up against his cock as you allowed him to grope you, his hands grasping at as much as he could grab while his hard clothed cock rubbed against your ass. You're killing me, brat.

A deep, low moan came out of his lips his cock twitched in his hand, balls tightening up as ropes of thick, white cum shot out, covering his hand. He squeezed his cock a little bit tighter, making sure all his cum was out, taking another look at your pretty face in the selfies before he began cleaning up.

Evidence hidden and with his cock back in his pants he stepped back into the room with the other ghosts, instantly met with the amused faces of Ajax and Kick, clearly holding in their laughter.

"Had some fun, bro?" Ajax asked, not even able to hold in his laugh anymore, Kick following right after.

"Yeah, yeah." Keegan grumbled, rolling his eyes as he sat down and pulled out his flask.

"Next time I'll do it in the same room as you motherfuckers." Logan's frown deepened.

[colleendoran]

How Do I Do Stuff

The question was phrased a little strangely, and I don't want to embarrass the person by posting exactly what was said, but I'll answer it and hope this clears everything up.

I do almost all of my drawing by hand. No, I don't trace in Photoshop. Not a judgment on those who do, but I come from a generation of artists who did not use Poser programs or other digital tools. We learned to draw using a technique called the Sight Size method. I know a lot of people assume everyone - including the old masters - traced everything using optical tools, but while it is true some people did, it is just as true that most didn't, and you can draw with great accuracy if you learned how to draw the old fashioned way.

Sight Size breaks everything down into its barest components of geometric shapes and you build from there. Once you learn it, you never forget, and it applies to everything you will ever draw.

I learned it using a set of Famous Artist Course books my mom had since she was a kid, and they are still the gold standard. They're often on ebay. If I were you, I'd buy them.

I actually find using figure reference really annoying because I like exaggerations and modifications from reality in my final work.

This page from Neil Gaiman's Chivalry was drawn and painted without figure reference of any kind.

I don't know why people assume I trace all the time. If you were to try to use photographs to replicate these figures, you would find they are slightly off. There is no tracing here.

This is not to say I never use reference. This page, for example, was referenced from a photo of my mother. Isn't she pretty.

But this page of Sir Galaad was drawn and painted without reference.

He's pretty, too.

If he were real, I'm sure a lot of people would be very happy about it. But he's not. And had I reference, the art would have gone a lot faster. I had a time trying to nail this face that is very alive in my head but doesn't really exist.

Back in the ancient days, all cartoonists had to learn to draw and paint extemporaneously because reference was limited and digital tools didn't exist. While some high end artists had photography studios and professional models with costume and sets on hand, small fry like me were limited to what was in the house or available at my small local library, which was no bigger than a few rooms of my current house.

Artists kept extensive "morgue files" or "swipe files" which were collected from magazine clippings and photographs so we would have as much of what we might need on hand for quick reference. These ephemera collections could get unwieldy. I have thousands of photographs I've simply never sorted. I finally dumped most of my files this past year.

Have I ever traced anything? Of course, especially if I have to re-use a shot or setting over and over. Making extra work for myself is just silly. It's my job to make pictures, not to perform magical feats, like copying one shot after another over and over without making a mistake.

However, for almost 15 years of my career, I refused to copy or trace anything, and did not even own a lightbox. On the one hand, that forced me to learn to carefully examine what I saw. On the other hand, it was a stupid hill on which many deadlines died.

Only after I realized many professional artists had lightboxes and overhead projectors did I finally break down and get one.

The one thing I use my lightbox for more than anything is for tracing my thumbnail sketches to the final drawing paper. Instead of trying to capture the liveliness of the original sketch by copying what I see - only bigger - I blow the thumbnail up to the size I want the final art to be, then I trace over the thumbnail using a lightbox onto the final drawing paper.

Here's a look at thumbnails from the graphic novel Neil Gaiman's Snow, Glass, Apples.

I enlarged these on my computer to fit onto 11"x14" paper, and traced the thumbs before finishing the art which was drawn in pen and ink and colored in Photoshop.

While I obviously made some changes, the essence of the thumbs is there in the final work. Tracing my thumbs retains some of the looseness of the original sketches, which is often lost otherwise.

So, there is a valid purpose to tracing at times, though in my opinion, too much tracing can weaken drawing ability, substitute for developing skills, and make the work kind of stiff.

If you want to, I'm not your judge. But it's weird to me that people think I must be faking my skills in some way.

Ironically, the word cartoon comes from the Italian word cartone, which is a large heavy sheet of paper - also, the origin of the word carton.

Preparatory sketches were made on this paper which was then transferred to the final work surface via either tracing or by stamping little holes in the paper through which dust was sprinkled, recreating the contours of the drawing for the artist to follow.

So the origin of the word cartoon comes from a process often used...for tracing.

[listentoace]

Trigger Warning: Death Feederism, Emotional Abuse, Heavy Manipulation, Gaslighting

Look, I know I told you that I'd stop fattening you up once you decided you wanted to stop, but I won't. And I believe you knew that from the beginning. I think you just had to lie to yourself in order to let go and give in. I have just enabled you, that's it. You've done all of this to yourself. You just kept eating. You kept ordering junk food. You kept asking for snacks. You could have just said no, you could've stopped. But did you?

You know I love the extreme. You knew what you were in for. All those times when you asked me how fat would be fat enough, I kept telling you there is no such thing as fat enough. We both know you're too far down the road to stop. Your habits have changed, your appetite is immense, and we both know you're just deeply addicted to the feeling you get from stuffing yourself. If you seriously want to stop, you would need my help. You would not be strong and disciplined enough to stop by yourself. You'll keep eating and suffering from the consequences until that clogged heart of yours gives out.

I'm not helping you. Why would I? I'll always want you fatter, always. There is absolutely no reason for me not to further enable you and watch you further ruin yourself. It's just so hot. I doubt anyone would help you. Heck, you're so fat, you can barely leave the house by now. You know you'd be absolutely fucked without me. You may not have realized it, but you depend on me. Who does all the cleaning? Who gets the groceries? Who brings in the money? It's me. And yes, I know I talked you into a sedentary lifestyle. I talked you into quitting your job. But you made the decision, not me. You chose the sedentary lifestyle of a fattened house pig. I simply enabled you to choose that option.

And just like that, I'll let you chose again. You'll either keep eating, keep getting fatter, and enjoy another 1-2 pleasurable years until your heart pops, or I'm gone, and you'll have to figure things out by yourself. Your best bet would probably be to apply for disability. You don't even fit into a regular office desk anymore, so I doubt anybody will be stupid enough to give you a job. But it's up to you. You have made every decision that brought you here, and this next one is up to you too. So what's it going to be? ~

[dreamescapeswriting]

Got Your Back ~ Skz

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅WORD COUNT: 2.4k

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅PAIRING: Stray kids x reader 

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅GENRE: Established relationships, friends, platonic, cute, fluffy, chan being comforting, boys trying to help out, non idol au,

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - October 2024

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST

You sit at the dining table, staring blankly at your laptop. The congratulatory messages about your MBA graduation had rolled in, but instead of the sense of accomplishment you expected, there’s only confusion and uncertainty. The question that haunted you: What now?

No one had told you what you were supposed to do now, fully out of education and thrown into the world where you had no idea how anything even operated.

Across from you, Seungmin leans over, trying to peek at your screen. You'd been crashing at their apartment for the time being while you figured out your next move. All of them were happy to have you around, and they had the spare rooms so they hadn't minded you being there at all.

"Still searching for jobs?" he asks casually, his voice light but not helping much. You glanced away from the screen for a second and met his brown eyes that were already sinking into yours,

"Yeah... just trying to figure things out," you murmur, sighing. You've been at this for hours, scouring job boards, but nothing seems to fit. The weight of expectations, both from others and yourself presses down on you. You wanted to do something with the degree, but everything you'd applied for was shooting you down due to lack of 'experience' but how were you supposed to get experience if no one was willing to hire you in the first place?

Jisung slouches on the couch, his playful grin is evident as he waves his phone in your direction.''

"You could always just be a professional napper. I heard there’s demand for that!" His attempt at lightening the mood only adds to your frustration. You knew he was just trying to make you laugh, they all were but somehow they only seemed to make you feel worse about everything.

You didn't want to spend the next few months freeloading off them and mooching your days away on their sofa,

"I wish it were that easy..." You try to smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. You stared back at the screen, looking through the emails of rejections you'd gotten for the last week and it was making you want to slam your head in the laptop and never look at it again.

Jeongin comes up behind you, giving your shoulder a little squeeze. He could sense that everything was starting to pile up on top of you, they'd been trying to get you to take a couple days to yourself but nothing was working yet.

"Hey, you’ll figure it out. You're literally the smartest person I know!" His words, while kind, don’t quite soothe the gnawing anxiety building up inside you. Felix plops next to you, laying his head on your arm with his deep voice chiming in,

"You’ve got so much time. Why not take a break for a bit and bake with me? Sometimes, stepping away helps...Besides you JUST graduated...you deserve some time off to relax," Though his offer sounds comforting, it doesn’t seem like the solution you need right now. You can feel the boys' efforts to help, but somehow, it all falls short. The uncertainty continues to swirl in your mind, the questions you knew you'd face if you didn't go straight into a job.

"How about we all get food and come back with a fresh set of eyes later?" Chan suggested as he watched you from the doorway. If anyone could get you to do something it would be him and you bit down on your lip,

"it'll be here when you get back, food is essential in life." He told you, and you could tell by the stern look on his face that he wasn't going to drop this easily.

"Fine. One meal." You mumbled as the others practically raced to the door to go and get their stuff ready. Chan watched as you reluctantly shut the laptop screen and got up, making your way over to him.

"I'll help you in any way I can, you know that," Chan whispered as he wrapped his arms around your shoulder and led you toward the others.

"But-"

"Staring at a screen for 24 hours a day isn't going to change anything. You need relaxation, you need a fresh space." He said while cutting you off. He couldn't stand the thought of you sitting there for HOURS on end torturing yourself over not being able to get anything you were applying for. You needed some time away.

It was late, far too late for you to still be awake, but here you were, sitting at the kitchen table once again with a cup of coffee long gone cold. The screen in front of you is blurred from hours of scrolling through job listings. Each click led to more pressure, another wave of doubt. The meal you'd gone out for earlier felt like it had been days ago but it had only been six hours, while it had been nice to get out it did nothing to calm you.

You'd spent the whole dinner pretending to listen to the guys as they spoke but you were agonising in your own mind about what you were supposed to do next.

“Still at it?” Chan’s voice cut through the quiet hum of your laptop. You hadn’t even noticed him walking in. You glance over your shoulder, feeling guilty that you'd been caught when you'd promised him you would leave it for the night. But Chan had known all too well you weren't just going to drop it.

"Yeah, I just—there’s so much to do, and I feel like I’m falling behind." You admitted and for the first time in a long time, it finally felt good to say it out loud. You hadn't wanted to tell the others but it was true. A part of you felt as though you were going to end up failing and never using the degree you'd worked hard for over the last few years.

Chan shakes his head gently, coming over to sit beside you on one of the chairs, his gaze lingers on the clock on the kitchen wall.

"It’s 2 a.m. You should be resting." You could hear the playful scolding coming from him but you shook your head,

"I can’t," you mutter, rubbing your temples. Everything felt as though it was too much right now, like there was a growing pressure pinning you down and if you didn't find something soon you were going to be crushed beneath it all.

"What if I don’t find something soon? What if I wasted all this time for nothing?" The stress in your voice is evident, your anxiety bubbling to the surface. Chan reaches out, softly closing your laptop before you can protest, he slides it off the table and puts it on the chair beside him.

“You’re going to burn yourself out if you keep pushing like this.” Something you'd told him countless times when he was working himself into the ground, but just because you gave him advice didn't mean you had to take it,

“I don’t have time to relax, Chan. I need to figure this out,” you say, your voice a bit sharper than you intended, but he doesn’t flinch, he just watches you with a weak smile on his lips.

"You do have time," he replies calmly. "You just graduated, and no one expects you to have everything sorted right away. It’s okay to take a break." He tugs you gently, guiding you away from the table and forces you to walk into the living room where he dropped you on the sofa beside him.

"I just... I don’t want to fail," you admit quietly, the vulnerability of your words surprising even yourself. You laid your head on his shoulder as he ran his hands up and down your arm softly.

"You won’t fail. But if you keep going like this, you’ll wear yourself out. Then you really won’t be able to move forward." You sigh, feeling the tension in your body refusing to leave.

"I don’t know how to stop thinking about it."

“Then let me help you stop.” His voice is soft, but there’s a firmness in his tone. He reaches out, grabbing one of your hands and gently squeezing, he would do anything to help you shut off for a while.

"For tonight, just... be here. No more job searching, no more stressing. Just relax with me." You don’t answer immediately, your mind still racing with the thoughts of what needs to be done, but his thumb gently strokes the back of your hand, grounding you in the present.

Chan shifts, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV. The soft flicker of a random show fills the room, casting a warm glow around you both. He pulls you closer, and before you know it, your head is resting on his shoulder. His steady presence has an almost immediate calming effect, the weight of the world slowly lifting off your shoulders.

"You’re not alone in this, okay?" Chan murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll help you figure everything out. You have more time than you think." You sniffled a little as you listened to him, taking his words in and nodding your head.

Your shoulders slump as you sighed a little and finally admit everything you'd been holding back,

"I just... I feel stuck. I worked so hard for this degree, but now I don’t even know what I want to do next." Chan’s gaze softens as he listens carefully. He lets you speak about your worries, your fears, and the pressure you're feeling.

“I get it,” he says after a pause. “It’s a tough transition. But you don’t have to figure it all out in one go. Maybe you can start with small steps.” You blink, looking over at him, the TV long forgotten as you stare at him.

“Small steps?” Chan nods.

“Yeah. I know it’s overwhelming when you think about everything at once but maybe focus on just one thing that excites you. We can start there.” You nod at him about to talk when he shakes his head at you.

"But I order for the next couple of days you're to relax...take time...okay?" He squeezed you closer to him as you settled back into the comfort of his arms and the TV.

It had been a few weeks since your graduation, and though you tried to relax, the pressure to figure out your next step weighed heavily on you. Chan had been your rock during this time, always knowing when to pull you away from your laptop, forcing you to take breaks and reminding you that you didn’t need to have everything figured out just yet.

But one night, after another long day of scrolling through endless job postings, you felt like you were back at square one. You sighed, leaning back against the couch, the glow of your screen casting shadows on your tired face.

Chan noticed. He always did. He came over, sitting beside you and peeking at your screen.

"Still nothing?" he asked softly, staring at the email you'd gotten that had once again rejected you.

"Nothing that feels right," you admitted, rubbing your eyes. You were starting to get a tension headache and all you wanted to do was cry.

"It’s like I’m going in circles. I don’t even know what I’m looking for anymore." Chan leaned back, his fingers drumming lightly on his knee as he thought for a moment.

"You know… I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something," he began, glancing over at you. "I’ve got a friend—well, more like a connection in the industry. They’re looking for someone with your exact qualifications." You stared at him and blinked. Chan worked in the music industry and you'd never really thought about asking him for help until now.

"Really?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "It’s not one of those big corporate jobs, but it’s a start. You’d be working in a creative environment, helping manage some marketing campaigns and operations. I think you’d be great at it." The idea sparked something in you—interest, hope.

"Do you think they’d want to talk to me?" Chan chuckled, nodding.

"I might have already sent them your info. They were interested as soon as I mentioned your MBA." You gaped at him, caught between surprise and gratitude.

"Wait, you already told them about me? Chan, why didn’t you say anything?"

"I wanted to wait until you were ready," he said, his voice gentle. "I know you've been feeling a lot of pressure, and I didn’t want to overwhelm you. But I think this could be a really good opportunity for you." You felt a surge of emotions��relief, excitement, and most of all, gratitude for how thoughtful and supportive he had been during this whole process. Tears were starting to build up inside of your eyes and you whined a litt;e.

"Are you serious? I—I don’t even know what to say," you stammered, feeling a warmth spread through you. Chan grinned, nudging you lightly with his shoulder.

"Just say you’ll think about it. There’s no rush. But I think it could be the right step for you, and I’m always here to help if you need anything along the way." You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. For the first time, something felt right.

"I’ll think about it," you promised, your voice soft but hopeful.

A few days later, you found yourself on a call with Chan’s contact. The conversation went well—better than you had expected—and when you hung up, you immediately messaged Chan.

I got the interview! They want me to start next week if everything goes well!

His reply came almost instantly: I knew you’d be perfect for it. You’ve got this!

Sitting there, staring at the screen, you realized how much Chan had helped you—not just by finding the opportunity but by being the constant support you needed through all the uncertainty.

Later that night, you sat beside Chan again, feeling more at peace than you had in weeks. The two of you were watching a TV show together that had become your way to relax during times of stress and now it was the routine you shared.

"You really saved me, you know that?" you said quietly. He shook his head, giving you that soft, reassuring smile.

"Nah, you did all the hard work. I just gave you a little nudge." He winks at you and you smile, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Well, thank you. For everything." Chan wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close.

"Anytime. You know I’ve got your back."

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @s3ungm1nxxl0ve

[inconveniently-discorporated]

My heart hurts so bad for Aziraphale because I can honestly just relate to him so, so, so much.

(not putting this one under a cut so warning season 2 ahead, I'll tag it at the bottom too)

Aziraphale says, "Nothing lasts forever," but I don't believe for a second he doesn't wish that it did.

He WANTS things to go back to how they used to be. He WANTS the seraphic Crowley squealing with joy as he cranks up the universal machine and sets the stars aflame. He WANTS there to be no sides, he WANTS to believe in the idea of the host united, he WANTS to go back before Crowley got himself in trouble by asking questions. He wants, I think, to be in that moment of creation and adoration forever.

Change seems to frighten him. There's an aspect of uncertainty. There's an element of chaos, the loss of control. I understand this deeply. And what the Metatron offered him was just that: certainty, control, the ability to dictate his own narrative.

I used to be in a toxic job. On top of it, I had intense anxiety and other undiagnosed neurodivergencies that made it even harder to fit in and understand the untold rules I was supposed to follow to get along. When I first got there, it wasn't so bad -- perhaps I was, like Aziraphale, also a bit idealistic. Then there were some changes that brought instability, significant more anxiety, and a lot of nights spent agonizing over my lack of control over it all.

My friends and significant other tried to convince me to leave, but I didn't want to. I didn't know what else was out there. I didn't know if it would be worse. I didn't know what kind of stability it would have.

Then my manager left, so that spot opened up. I had worked there for a long time, and honestly, I never saw myself going into management. I didn't think I could. I wasn't sure I even wanted to. All of that extra stress, on me? Not to mention, getting FURTHER into the job that was taking a massive toll on me? But then...

Then I would have control. Then I could run things the way *I* had always thought they should run. I wouldn't need to worry about who would replace my manager and whether my life would be a living hell -- I would make it what I wanted it to be. Upper management was really pushing for it, so I applied.

To make a long story short: I don't think it went very well. I didn't have the support I needed. I didn't have the emotional skills I needed. I think I did my best, but I'm not fond of those times. At the time, I was SURE that I wanted to move up even more, I was SURE this would make it all better. I thought this was what I REALLY wanted.

But that's not what I needed. What I needed was to get out, and eventually I did. Even as ready as I was to leave, it was absolutely agonizing. I could barely stand to handle the unknown. I was going to work together with my spouse, actually, and I was so excited for that, but I still... I still was upset and worried sick over the dramatic change that would befall my life, after I had made the decision to leave.

That's where I can relate to Aziraphale. I wonder what would've happened if, before I had actually left for good, the head honchos had come up to me and said, "We want to keep you -- how about we offer you (an even higher position)?" -- would I have said no, or would I have wanted to make a difference?

Funny, I said exactly that, too. That's almost why I didn't change jobs in the first place. I said, "But I feel like I'm really making a difference with what I'm doing now." But what pushed me over the edge was realizing that none of that mattered to them, it was all about THEIR control of ME, not the other way around.

I'm so intensely curious to see what happens with Aziraphale next, but I'm sure he will learn what Crowley understands: nothing lasts forever, and sometimes it's good that it doesn't -- even if sometimes we wish it did.

[mytheoristavenue]

MHA Eijiro Kirishima - I Could Kiss You

Summary: When you finally get offered a new work study under your first pick, Fat Gum, you know exactly who is responsible.

Warnings: Pure fluff, mentions of a toxic work relationship, mentions of misogyny, short/rushed, possibly OOC Shishido

You sighed, gripping the letter tightly in between your fingers. A part of you was relieved to read the words 'Employment Contract Termination Notice' at the head of the page, but something about the implications brewed something awful in your gut. The few months you'd spent under Shishido had been hellish and were were happy it was over but this also meant that, not only were you out of a job, you were out of a way to earn the work study credits you needed to pass the semester.

"Ah, nice," A familiar, chipper voice called from behind you. "About time!" Kirishima cheered, a hand on your shoulder as he read the letter over your shoulder.

"I guess so," you shugged his hand away dismissively.

"What do you mean?" He asked, growing more concerned at your lack of joy. "That guy's an ass, aren't you happy Nezu was able to terminate your contract?"

"I am, really," you answered with a sigh, plopping down on the common room couch. "Maybe it wasn't that bad..."

"Not that bad?" He snorted, sitting down with you, knees far apart as he leaned forward. "He treated you like a secretary. He took Ojiro and Sato out on patrols and made you stay at the office, that's not fair at all."

Kirishima wasn't wrong. It was an open secret at Shishido Agency that you were a diversity hire. The hero tended to avoid hiring interns who didn't fit a specific archetype, and he rarely ever hired women. But his contract with the school came under scrutiny when it was realized that he hadn't hired a single female student since the year after his agency opened. You were the only one who had applied to work for him, thus your employment began.

Your days after school were spent checking his emails, getting him coffee, answering his fanmail, and the like. Your classmates who worked under him would always flash you apologetic smiles as they headed out for patrol with him. "I'm sure you'll go with us next time, (Y/N)..." Ojiro would offer sheepishly on his way out the door. "Yeah, plus you're lucky, now you can get paid to just chill!" Sato would add, much to your chagrin.

"Well, in any case," Kirishima grinned, hoping to lift your spirits a bit. "Now you can start looking for a new hero to intern under!"

"Shishido was the only one who accepted me," you groaned, throwing your head back against the backboard of the couch. "I applied to like everyone I could think of."

"And nobody sent you any offers?" He asked, grimacing at your plite.

"Nope," you answered, exhausted. "Some of them never even replied." You admitted, repositioning on the couch, throwing your legs over his as you settled in. "God, 'Shima, your so lucky to get to work with Fat Gum. He was my first choice." You casually mention, cracking open a textbook to start on some homework.

"Oh yeah?" He askes with a smirk, interest piqued.

"Yeah," you smile softly. "He's always been my favorite pro, ever since I was a kid."

"Did you apply to him?" He suddenly asked, resting his hands on your shins.

"Obviously," you answered snarkily. "He was the first one I applied to."

"And?" He leaned in curiously, as if the answer wasn't glaringly obvious.

"He didn't ever respond." you sighed, turning the page of your book, a sadness gleaming in your eyes.

"Maybe you should reapply." He suggested, oddly excited as the conversation continued. "You never know! Maybe he'd take you this time around!"

"I doubt it," you rolled your eyes as you peered up at him. "I'll have to reapply to everyone though, so I might as well."

"Listen, I gotta go get ready for work." He suddenly jumped up, throwing your legs off him, earning a glare from you. "S-Sorry'bout that, but hey, I'll see you later, okay?"

-----

Once again, you stood there, tightly gripping a letter, the paper crinkling under your trembling fingers. In disbelief, you held it tightly to your chest, repeating it's contents over and over in your head. Finally gathering your bearings, you darted for the door, drifting into the hallway towards the common space.

"Kirishima!" You squealed, prompting the redhead to poke his head out of the kitchen in a panic, puffed cheeks full of half-chewed banana.

"(Y/N)! What's up?" he worried, setting the rest of his snack on the counter, looking you over for possible injury. "You good? You're shaking."

"I got in!" you shrieked, joyous tears pricking your eyes.

His face scrunched in confusion as he tilted his head before suddenly realizing. "Oh my God!" He hollered, sweeping you up into a laugher-filled hug, spinning you as your feet left the ground. "Fat Gum offered you a position?! I told you he would, hell yeah!"

You snickered as he raved with you, setting you back down on the floor, arms still wrapped securely around you. "Oh stop, I know you talked to him."

"W-What?" He paled, pulling away slightly. "N-No, of course not!" He laughed nervously. "I-I mean, you applied to Fat Gum? I didn't even know! I-"

"Eijrio," you stopped him dead in his tracks with a soft smile and the uttering of his given name. "You're a terrible liar..."

"I-I know..." he finally relented with a sheepish smile. "Are you mad at me?"

You couldn't stifle your laugh. "Mad at you? 'Shima, I'm overjoyed." You reassured beaming. "I'm literally so happy I could kiss you!"

You regretted the words as soon as they left your lips, frozen in his grasp, watching rouge crawl up his throat and across his cheeks. His dumbstruck expression made your heart sink and you could feel the heat radiating off your face.

"Y-You mean that?" He finally asked, face never changing. You nodded hesitantly before shaking it furiously.

"I-It's just an expression, I-I didn't-" You were silenced by his calloused hand reaching up to cup your cheek and the pad of his thumb brushing across your lip.

"If you're too nervous to do it, I can kiss you..." he suggested lowly, already leaning in, crimson eyes half-lidded and flickering from yours to your pouty lips. You nodded wordlessly, also closing the distance.

"Y-You can kiss me, if you want." you whispered against his lips, simply earning a nod from him as your lips met at last, briefly and sweetly.

After a moment, Kirishima pulled away, forehead pressed to yours and he murmured to you softly, still cradling your face. "If this is my reward, just tell me what else I can do to make you happy..." he said with a toothy grin.

"It's not a reward," you confessed with an equally saccharine tone. "I would have taken any excuse to kiss you..."

"Is that right?" he laughed, pulling you flush against him, head dipping down to catch your lips again, this time for much longer. "Guess I'll have to keep giving you excuses then, huh?" he teased in between kisses.

Suddenly, a grumpy voice boomed from behind the pair of you, causing you to both jump, holding each other tightly, as if caught with your hands in the cookie jar. "Can you two take this shit elsewhere? You're literally right in front of the fucking fridge."

[ninii-winchester]

Crossed Allegiances (Part 2)

Pairing : Dean Winchester X reader

Word count : 6k

Warnings : angst, mentions of sex, BMOL (they should be tagged as a warning), fluff, minor character death, language, canon level violence. And of course not proofread.

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

A week passed and Dean visited her everyday. Y/n was now eagerly looking forward to spend time with him everyday. It was all so perfect. It could've been her happily ever after if it weren't for the job. She loved being in his arms, she loved his kisses, she loved being his. He made her feel like she was the only girl in the world. She was too immersed in the bubble she had created that she forgot about the job. But all good things come to an end, and her bubble burst with a phone call.

"Winchester is still refusing to work with us." She heard Ketch's voice.

"I told you to keep your huge ass nose out of my business. It's only been a week. He's Dean Winchester, he doesn't trust easy." She replied rolling her eyes. It was a lie. Dean trusted her, but didn't know and she intends to keep it that way for as long as she can.

"Well, when you're done chumming it up with your boyfriend. Let me know." He hung up on her. Fucking asshole.

Her phone rang again and she rolled her eyes but then a huge smile broke onto her face when she saw it was Dean.

"Hey, sweetheart, you busy?" He asked, it sounded like he was driving the Impala.

"No. What do you have in mind?"

"Well i was thinking we could go on a drive, get dinner and I'll take you to the bunker to meet Sammy." He was smiling, she could hear it in his voice. "Only if you want to." He quickly added.

"You planned it all huh?" She teased him. Her heart was soaring that he was making plans, that wanted to spend time with her. And he was taking her to meet his brother. Over the week she found out that his brother is the most important person in his life. And he was taking her to meet him. She couldn't be happier. "I say let's go."

"I'll see you soon then." Dean pulled up at her apartment after ten minutes. He knocked on the door and she opened it happily inviting him inside. He leaned down to kiss her softly, following her inside her bedroom.

"I'll be ready in a minute." She didn't need to do much, she was already showered and dressed, all she had to do was apply some makeup and brush her hair.

"Take your time, sweetheart." He said plopping down on her bed, watching her with heart eyes. He was acting like a love sick puppy and he knew it. His gaze wandered all over her body and he bit his lip groaning. This woman is making me do things out of my character.

"I'm ready, let's go." Y/n turned around. She wore a simple, well-fitted dress that complemented her figure, paired with minimal makeup—a touch of concealer, a hint of nude lipstick , and a light coat of mascara. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail and the things he wanted to do to her after seeing her like this were insane.

"Let's go, gorgeous."

The road stretched ahead, winding through open fields and scattered trees. The car moved smoothly, its steady hum blending with the music playing in the background. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow across the sky.

A cool breeze flowed through the cracked windows. They talked alot, but there were also long, comfortable silences where the only sounds were the purring of Impala's engine.

After a nice dinner, Dean drove to the outskirts and she looked out of the window curiously.

"Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?" She giggled and he rolled his eyes.

"I have no intention of getting my ass kicked tonight." He replied with a chuckle, knowing shes capable of beating the fuck out of him. "Bunker's pretty isolated." Dean replied stopping the car. He opened the passenger door for her and helped her out of the car. Grasping her hand in his, he opened the bunker door, the hinges creaking loudly. He guided her down the stairs into the war room, and she looked around the place in awe.

A tall man was sitting on one of the chairs in what seemed to be a large study. Upon noticing their presence he stood up from his seat and went over to them. Y/n looked up at the man, and man was he huge. Y/n had to crane her neck a bit to look at his face.

"So you do exist." Sam said with smile, his brother rolling his eyes. "It's so nice to finally put a face to the name." He said holding out his hand for her to shake.

"Hey. Nice you to finally meet you too, Sammy." Sam titled his head a bit at her calling him 'Sammy' and she noticed. "Is that not your name?" She asked quietly. "Dean always talked about his brother Sammy." Sam gave Dean a bitch a face before turning to her with a smile.

"It's Sam." He corrected her.

"Same thing, Sammy." Dean commented with a grin. "Welcome to our humble abode, sweetheart." He added.

"This place his huge." She looked around with wide eyes. Dean placed his hand on the small of her back and leading her to the library. The three of them sat down on the chairs.

"So Dean told me you're not a hunter." Sam started and she nodded her head. "But you fight better than one?" Y/n blushed feeling a bit embarrassed.

"He exaggerated."

"You're being modest." Dean kissed her temple.

"How do you know about all this stuff, the supernatural and the monsters.?" Sam questioned out of genuine curiosity but Y/n squirmed a bit and Dean shot his brother a glare. "You don't have to-"

"Family business, Sam." She gave him forced smile. "My parents were hunters. I just didn't want this life for me." It wasn't a lie per say, but it wasn't the whole truth either. She never knew her parents. She was raised by the Men of Letters to be who she is. But she didn't want that.

"You don't have to talk about it." Dean rubbed her arm lightly. She nodded and they continued to talk. It was getting late and Y/n asked Dean to get her back home. "You could stay the night, sweetheart."

"I don't have my clothes."

"You can sleep in my shirt, in my bed." He whispered in her ear, seductively. His arms encircling her waist. Sam quickly excused himself, not wanting to stay in case things went any further. He wouldn't put it past his brother to be mindful of his surroundings in situations like this.

"Fine." Dean picked her up and carried her to his room. "Damn this place is like a maze." She commented as they reached Dean's room.

"Don't worry, I'll show you around the bunker tomorrow, so you don't get lost." He gave her a shirt and she quickly changed into it. Dean stripped down to his boxers and joined her in bed. "Good night darling."

The next morning Sam found a case, he told them over coffee. Sam was hoping Y/n would want to tag along and he could finally see what Dean was on about but she didn't show any interest. She just asked Dean to drop her back home and told him to be safe out there. To save time, the boys geared up and dropped her at her apartment and went on their way instead of Dean going alone and coming back to the Bunker. Dean called her every given opportunity, keeping her updated about the hunt. He told her they'd be back tomorrow. After getting off the phone with Dean, Y/n dialled Ketch.

"Bring your ugly ass to the bunker on Friday. Bring your finest alcohol. Make it seem like you're offering a truce and trying again." She ordered. She had a plan in mind.

"Don't give me orders." He said with his teeth clenched. "I'll see you in five days."

"Asshole." She muttered to herself as he hung up.

Dean came back from the hunt, met up with her and left on another hunt. He called her the other and told her he's going another hunt and she sighed over the phone. She missed him. She wanted to be back in his arms. And she needed him to be back before Friday or she won't hear the end of it from Ketch.

Thursday evening Y/n was lounging in her living room flipping through channels. A knock on the door resounded and she went to open the door. There stood Dean, covered in dirt and a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"Dean what're you doing here?" She questioned letting him in.

"The hunt was an easy one so we finished early and came back. I also happened to miss my girl so here I am." Dean flashed her a smile, handing her the flowers.

His girl. As those two words filled her with warmth inside, a bucket of ice cold water splashed on her as she remembered the reason she was with him. She was deceiving him. Playing with him. Manipulating him.

She didn't want to remember it at the moment, she needed to forget, she grabbed him by the lapels of his jacked pulling him onto her. Pressing her lips to his, "baby, I'm all dirty." He mumbled against her lips. She responded with a little "shut up" pushing him on the bed.

The two laid under the covers, completely naked, panting a bit from the activities that took place earlier. "Someone missed me." Dean smirked.

"I did." She shifted on his chest. His fingers trailing down her bare back. "Can I come over to the bunker? I can cook for you and Sam."

"Sure you can. You don't have to ask." He caressed her cheek. "Will you make pie?" He grinned up at her and she nodded kissing his nose. He stared at her in adoration, he was falling for her. Fast. He was pretty sure he fell for her the first time too. He didn't want to accept it back then but now he knows. But he won't tell her, he didn't want to scare her off. They've only been together for a few days.

The next morning Dean took Y/n to the bunker. She was anxious the minute she stepped her foot inside. Ketch could show up any time. She needed to keep her expression in check and not let the brothers see the loathing she held for the man who'd be visiting today. If Dean noticed her odd behaviour, he didn't comment on it.

The trio sat in the library where Sam was telling Y/n stories of his time at Stanford. She could tell he missed it all. She knew he didn't want to be a hunter. She had seen that look in the mirror many times before she ran. The loud creaking of the bunker door interrupted Sam mid sentence. Both men grabbed their guns from under the table, ready to shoot if it was an intruder. Dean pushed Y/n behind him, standing in front of her in a protective stance.

The minute they recognised the newcomer they pointed their guns at the man. Ketch raised his hands in surrender.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Dean growled.

"I come in peace." The man replied.

"How did you even get in here?" Sam questioned. Ketch scoffed.

"I have a key" he replied and Sam looked confused. "Your key can open any Men of Letters bunker in the world." He added in a berating tone as if it was common knowledge and they should've known.

"What do you want?" Dean asked not dropping his guard even for a second.

"I came here to call for a truce. I believe we started on the wrong foot. I was hoping we could work together. We're Men of Letters after-all" Ketch said, presenting a bottle of whiskey, placing it on the table in the war room.

Y/n observed the situation, Dean was not convinced in the slightest. His shoulders were tense as he was expecting Ketch to attack any moment. Sam, however, he didn't seem completely trust but he appeared inclined to hear Ketch out.

"Get the fuck out of here." Dean growled. Ketch looked at Dean, his eyes dropping at Y/n for a split second. She gave him a small nod and the British man complied to Dean's order. He turned around and left the bunker. Sam and Dean lowered their guns and put them under the table.

"Who was that?" Y/n breathed out. "What's his deal?"

"Don't worry about it." Dean brushed it off but she wasn't letting up. She wanted Dean to open up about the situation so she could give him her two cents and spin the situation to her advantage. Just as she was supposed to.

"So people just randomly show up at the place you live at? He has a key to your home?" She questioned. "What's Men of Letters?"

Dean sighed before he dropped beside her, he told her The Men of Letters were a secretive organization dedicated to preserving and protecting ancient knowledge about the supernatural. They operated from hidden bunkers, this is one of them. And Sam and Dean are legacies. The man that dropped by was a member of the British Men of Letters and they wanted to work together. But their methods were messed up. How they were self righteous pricks who think there's nothing wrong in what they do. That they're better than everyone else. Better than American hunters.

"You make it seem complicated." Y/n spoke after Dean was finished. "It doesn't have to be."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked leaning over the table, interested to hear her perspective.

"I mean, they want to work together, give you cases to work. Right?" She asked.

"But they want us to kill everyone, even when have the option to save them. That's not how we operate." Dean grumbled.

"Well, they don't have to know what you do on the job. It's not like you will work for them. You will work with them. They provide with with intel, weaponry and you work the case like you do. And they won't be onto your ass like it seems they are. Seems like a win-win to me." She spoke nonchalantly, not wanting to seem she was trying too hard to convince them. She just pretend to tell them how she saw it.

"I think she's right Dean." At least Sam was convinced. "We can negotiate our terms, and we can opt out anytime its feels wrong." He added but Dean was dismissive. He might need a little more persuasion. She hated thinking about using sex to convince him. But if she didn't do it, Ketch would kill her or worse, Mick.

"I'll think about it." He said getting up from his chair. Sam called his name to stop him, "I said I'll think about it." Dean snapped at his brother before turning to go to his room. Y/n shot Sam a look before she followed after him. She opened the door to his room ans saw him at the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Dean." She said entering the room making him look up. "Don't fret over it honey." She said coming to stand in between his legs, his arms immediately holding onto her. His jaw was still clenched and she rubbed over it to calm him down. "You hate him that much?" If only you knew how much I hate him. She thought to herself.

"I don't want to talk about it.” Dean replied looking up at her.

“It’s okay, there are a lot of other things in my mind that we can talk about. Or better yet, do.” She smirked down at him seductively.

“Is that so?” He asked pulling her into him. She nodded her head straddling his lap and leaning down to kiss him. Dean willingly let her take over, grateful for a distraction.

An hour later, Y/n was perched on Dean completely. Her chin rested on his chest as she looked up at him. She grew to hate herself more as time passed. She hated that he looked at her like she was his everything and she hated that she was not being honest with him. But she had to do what she had to. If it was just her, she would’ve told Dean the whole truth and she knew he would’ve done everything in his power to keep her safe from Ketch. But Mick’s life was on the line too. She can’t be selfish and leave him to deal with the consequences after everything he’s done for her. Part of her wondered if he had faced any problems now that Ketch knows she was alive, since he was the one who declared her dead to the organisation.

“You seem lost.” Dean’s voice brought her back to reality.

“Just thinking.” She gave him a smile.

“About?” If only she could tell him, she would’ve done it in a heartbeat. She needed to reel this conversation back to him and away from her.

“About how your head wasn’t into it.” She replied. She didn’t exactly feel that way but she played it by long shot.

“I’m sorry sweetheart.” Dean accepted and she thought that maybe she isn’t that rusty after all. “Just this whole British Men of Letters thing, they’re like so fucking annoying.” Dean grumbled.

Tell me about it. She internally rolled her eyes at the mention of those assholes.

“From what you’ve told me, I don’t think it could be that bad.” She started and Dean raised his brow at her. “If you see it the way I see it.”

“And how do you see it, baby?” Dean asked caressing her bare back.

“Well the way I see it, they send you cases—less time consuming, they tell you how to deal with unfamiliar creatures—less research. The more time you save the more time I get to spend with you.” She grinned at him mischievously.

“Charming sweetheart, only thinking about yourself.” Dean teased her, his words held no malice.

“Well you’re hot, can you blame a woman for wanting to spend time with you.” She said exactly the words he spoke to her ten years ago, bringing a chuckle out of him. “Besides, like I said, they don’t have to know what exactly happened. They’re not your boss. If they’re Men of letters you’re too.”

“You make solid points sweetheart. Are you sure they haven’t sent you here to convince me?” Dean joked and she froze slightly.

“I was just giving my opinion.” She replied not too defensively. Dean kissed the corner of mouth and she relaxed.

“Just teasing, baby.”

The next morning Dean informed Sam, he’s willing to give those asshole a chance, but on his own terms. He dropped Y/n back to her apartment since she bad a bakery to run. Sam called Mick to the bunker to talk. The Winchester brothers talked negotiations with Mick and Ketch wasn’t too pleased with the information. However he remained quiet because there was someone else who was going to get a piece of his mind.

Y/n’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she rolled her eyes at the name the device displayed.

Wretch: Get here.

Him and his fucking orders. She was sure she would be the one snap his neck someday. She always walked to her bakery since she liked talking walks but she did own a car she didn’t use much. Now would be the good time to put it to use. She drove to the British Men of Letters bunker and after putting her hand on the biometric scanner, she was allowed to enter.

“Care you explain why you made me drive all the way up here when Dean has actually accepted to work with a drama queen like you?” Was the first thing she said to Ketch as she entered the briefing room.

“Don’t even think for a second that I won’t shoot you. I’m running out of patience for that attitude of yours.” Ketch replied. Y/n didn’t reply instead she plopped on one of the chairs. “The Winchesters are still not completely on board.” He added.

“Well I’m working on it. At least they’re willing to listen to now without trying to put a bullet in your head.” She replied trying to keep the attitude out of her tone. “Give it some time they’ll come around eventually.”

A month passed and The Winchester were working cases provided by the British Men of Letters. There weren’t any cases where Sam and Dean could do anything different from what the Brits did. All of those threats needed to be eliminated and they did it precisely. Things were going as smoothly as possible given circumstances. Y/n and Dean were going strong and he didn’t suspect for anything at all. Y/n never contacted Ketch, it was him who reached out for mission updates. She kept her meet ups with Mick minimal and under the radar as to not raise suspicion. Also she didn’t want Dean to think she’s meeting with someone else behind his back.

Little did Y/n know it would all change when Sam and Dean had to go on a werewolf hunt, accompanied by Mick.

Y/n walked into the British Men of Letters. bunker where she was meeting Mick. It had been a while since they last met, so she decided to visit him. She made sure the brothers were at the bunker thoroughly occupied before coming here. She had to be cautious coming around since she could run into them. Dean had told her all about their hunt together. And how Mick helped heal his friend, Claire. Y/n was surprised he defied rules. She knew he also hated those methods. He was too scared to leave himself so helped her escape. Besides he was in too deep to get out. While Y/n was barely nineteen, she had a whole life ahead of her. She stopped in her tracks as he as she heard Ketch's grating voice. She concealed herself behind the wall and watched closely.

"You see I always suspected you had a hand in her escape. However, I didn't have solid proof, since you so cleverly showed a burnt body which had her DNA all over." Her heartbeat quickened as she realised it was Mick he was talking to. "And now you let a werewolf escape."

"We healed her." Mick raised his voice.

"You should've known better, Mr.Davies. What if it hadn't worked? What if she'd killed you and gotten away?" Ketch asked rhetorically. "The Winchesters are rubbing off on you when it should've been the other way around."

"We eliminated a threat by turning the girl back. We did what we had do.!" Mick argued. Before he could say anything further, Ketch shot him—right between the eyes. Mick's body dropped to the ground with a loud thud, and her eyes widened in terror. She covered her mouth to stifle a sound and quickly left the premises.

Her whole body was shaking. She had just watched her best friend, the man she owed her life and happiness to, be shot to death. Tears streamed down her face as she got behind the wheel and drove as fast as she could, heading back to the bunker, back to Dean. This ended now. She wouldn't let Ketch manipulate her into doing his dirty work any longer. Ketch had killed Mick, the only reason she had taken the job.

She pulled heavy bunker door open, her vision clouded by tears as she descended the stairs. Her sobs were loud enough for Dean who was cleaning his guns in the war room. Upon seeing her, he dropped everything and rushed to her side.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Dean's expression was one of distress. He had never seen her like this before; he had never seen her cry, and yet here she was, wailing loudly.

"Mick." She choked, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"What about Mick, baby? Tell me!"

"He killed him." Dean's eyes widened at her words. Who was she talking about?

"Hey hey, look at me! Cmon sweetheart tell me who killed Mick?"

"Ketch." She whimpered, her tears continued to drip down her cheeks. Her breathing became shallow and irregular. Her strength worn out as she went limp in his arms. Her head lolled to the side as she succumbed to unconsciousness.

Dean carried her to his room, bridal style. He gently laid her on the bed, tapping her cheeks lightly. He was at a loss of words and he sure as hell wasn't sure what to think. How did she know? She's not in the business, she doesn't know Mick or Ketch. She'd only met Ketch once when he dropped by the bunker. She doesn't even know what Mick looks like. Dean's only ever told her about their hunt. Thousands of questions swirled in his head as he watched her lay unconscious on his bed.

He decided to let her rest for a while and left the room to find his brother. He found Sam in the kitchen grabbing a mug of coffee. The younger brother took a sip as turned to his brother as he noticed his serious expression.

"We have a problem." Dean said his hands folded across his chest. "Ketch killed Mick." Sam recoiled at the information, jerking his head away from his coffee and staring at Dean, wide eyed.

"What? How'd you even know?"

"Y/n told me. She came in here ten minutes ago, she was a crying mess. She told me Ketch killed Mick and before I could ask her anything else she fainted." Dean replied, his jaw slacked as none of it made sense to him.

"How does she know?"

"That's what I want to know." Dean's voice was low. Threatening even. He wasn't sure of the situation but he had a theory. And he prayed to whoever was out there, that he was wrong. Because God knows what he would do if he was right.

Y/n woke up in Dean's room. She blinked her eyes slowly to adjust to the light. The events of earlier came crashing into her like wave. She didn't want to be alone. She leapt out of the bed and ran out of the room. She knew Dean would ask questions. She knew she'd have to answer him, tell him the truth. And she knew she'd have to bear the consequences of her actions. She might lose Dean. Forever.

She found the brothers in the library. Dean's head snapped up when he heard footsteps. Y/n meekly entered the library.

"I know you have questions." She muttered lowly. Both brothers looked at her expectantly. For her to explain whatever the hell was happening but she remained silent.

"How do you know what Ketch did?" Dean questioned, that was the first thing on his mind.

"I saw it." She replied looking at him. "I was there at the bunker." Her eyer brimmed with tears as the scene replayed in her head.

"What were you doing there?" Dean's gaze hardened on her. Truthfully he didn't want to know the answer.

"Because I am a part of the Men of Letters." She confessed and Dean's hands clenched by his sides.

"What?" Sam exclaimed standing up. "You're not making any sense. It's not possible. You've lived here for as long as we know." He turned to his brother. "You met her here didn't you? Ten years ago."

"Sam." She called out to him. "I'll explain." She took a deep breath. Her gaze was settled on Dean, unmoving. She wanted to see his reaction when he told them the truth. She wanted him to know that didn't have any other choice. "When we met, ten years ago. It was real. I didn't know who you were. But this time, Ketch sent me to you." Dean rubbed his hand over his chin, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Why?" Sam questioned.

"He said you two weren't cooperating with the British Men of Letters. That you two were meddling in the business and you two were dishonouring the legacy. So he sent me here to get you two to cooperate."

"And you got us to cooperate. You sweet talked Dean and you knew if he was on board I would be too." Sam completed with a scoff. Dean took a menacing step towards and if she was being honest she was a bit afraid of him at the moment.

"And what if we hadn't cooperated?" His voice was low with an edge to it. When she didn't answer he asked again, not so politely this time. "Fucking answer me!" He raised his voice.

"I would have had to kill you." She whispered, her head bowing down. Dean nodded his head taking a step back. If his heart was breaking he didn't let it show. The betrayal was too powerful for him to feel anything else.

"Get Out." Those two words broke her completely. She didn't expect him to forgive her but she expected him to ask for explanation. She'd expected yelling, fighting, questions. Anything but this.

"Dean." She whimpered as tears streamed down her cheeks. "They'll kill me."

"If you don't leave, I will." It was taking a lot restraint for him to not shoot her right there. Or even take her in his arms and soothe her pain. Each tear that fell from her eyes, was a stab to his heart. He had loved her. Sure he never told her but he was going to. But she manipulated him, used him for her gain. "Leave." He yelled and she flinched. She took a step back and turned around to walk up the stairs. She took slow steps hoping he would stop her, tell her stay but he didn't.

She sat in her car, her tears had stopped and dried on cheeks. She was completely numb. She had lost everything she loved within the span of two hours. Her best friend was dead. The man she loved, kicked her out and probably hated her guts. And the man that actually hates her guts will kill her now.

Her phone rang and she sighed as saw the name of the caller. Speak of the devil. With a deep breath she answered the phone.

"Get home." He said and hung up. What the fuck was that supposed to mean. She quickly drove to her apartment, her heart beating loudly in his chest. She opened the front door and jumped a bit when she saw Ketch sitting on the couch in her living room.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, staring at him warily. Her blood was boiling watching her best friend's killer in her apartment.

"You're lacking." Ketch replied. "Those boys still don't follow rules. Do better." He ordered.

"No can do." She replied and he was quick on his feet grabbing her arms and twisting it behind her back.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He was angry.

"Dean kicked me out. I told him you killed Mick. I told him I was your pawn in this game. So why don't you tuck your tail between your legs and run for your life?" She taunted glaring at him. "You don't want an angry Dean Winchester onto you."

"You bitch." He said pushing her in the wall. "He was stupid enough to let you go. But I'm not." He said slapping her cheek. Blood dripped from her cheek.

"I'm not scared of you anymore." She spat before grabbing his head with both her hands and bringing his face to her knee. She heard a crack as was sure she broke his nose. "I'm gonna fucking kill you." She threw a right hook which he blocked but she turned so her back was to his chest and flipped him on the coffee table.

"Cora is here. And she's gonna want to see you." Ketch said smugly getting up, punching her in the face.

"Oh, isn't she the bitch who's shoes you lick every given opportunity." She kicked his stomach, and grabbed the lamp smashing it on his head.

"Enough." Her last sentence was enough to piss him off thoroughly. He pulled out his gun and shot her in her thigh, right above her kneecap. She fell to the ground on her knees. He slammed the back of his gun on her head, knocking her out.

To say Dean was pissed would be an understatement. He was furious, he was enraged, he felt betrayed and hurt. But most of all he was heartbroken. He opened his heart for someone for once in his life and that’s what he got. Being stabbed in the back.

His anger erupted like a storm. With a snarl, he grabbed the nearest lamp and hurled it against the wall, where it shattered into pieces. Breathing heavily, he swiped everything off the desk with one violent motion, sending papers, books, and a glass cup crashing to the floor. His fists collided with the dresser, leaving dents in the wood as he tore through the room, leaving nothing untouched by his rage. The sound of breaking glass and splintering wood echoed through the space, a chaotic symphony of his fury.

Hearing the sound of commotion Sam rushed to Dean’s room. He noticed the room completely smashed and his older brother panting with his knuckles bleeding. But most of all he noticed the defeated expression on Dean’s face.

“I shouldn’t say this but-”

“Don’t say anything Sammy.” Dean growled, glaring at the taller man.

“Just listen to me once.” Sam negotiated. His brother kicked a the broken lamp before dropping on the bed. Sam took it as his sign to start speaking. “I’m not saying what she did was right..” Sam paused looking for proper words to continue. “All I think is there’s a bigger picture we’re missing. You met her ten years ago when we didn’t even know what Men of Letters were. Surely she can’t be working with them when you met her, you met in America.”

“You heard her, she said it herself. She’s a Men of Letters.” Dean replied with a scoff.

“All I’m saying is you should talk to her, ask her to tell you the whole truth. From what you’ve told me she seemed pretty shaken up about Mick. And she wouldn’t have cared if she was like them. Also he hasn’t been answering any of my calls.” Sam said holding his brother’s shoulder.

Dean was torn between listening to his brother or his heart. He knew Sam was right, there was more to it than it met the eye. And he does want answers. Most of all he really wanted to know if anything was even real between them. But a part of him never wanted to see her again. After a lot of internal debate Dean spoke up.

“She’s got a lot more explaining to do.” He said standing up from his position. Dean walked out of his room and Sam followed behind him. The two brothers got into the Impala and Dean drove to her apartment.

Dean’s heart beat quickened when he noticed the door was wide open and he grabbed his gun from his jeans. Sam doing the same. They cautiously stepped over the treshold and the scene before them baffled them. The whole place was trashed. The coffee table was broken, the carpet was stained by a lot of blood. It looked like someone had gotten shot here and Dean didn’t want to think about it.

“Son of a bitch.”

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[seat-safety-switch]

There's this super fancy steakhouse near my home, and I've always wanted to eat there. Their salad bar is beyond excellent, a friend informs me, and their grated cheese is actually from Italy. Expense aside, you'd think this would be an easy trip for me. You're wrong.

You see, this steakhouse is so fancy that they have a special employee whose job it is to park my car. As far as I can tell by watching their parking lot with high-powered binoculars, their "valet" will take your car from you at the entrance, park it for you, and retrieve it for you when you're done eating. This, presumably, saves you the dinner-ruining stress of gently turning your vehicle to place it into a parking space.

Personally, I don't mind parking. My own backyard is full of cars packed helter-skelter, with mere millimetres of space between them. I could probably park a bus in here, if I really had to, but it would take me a couple of hours to get it back out. That's not the problem. The problem is that the valet would have to drive my car, which means I'd have to explain how to drive my car to them.

In case you think that's not a problem, allow me to explain. Most carbureted cars have a single choke, which you pull out when the car is cold in order to help it breathe a little better. Mine has sixteen, which must be pulled, bagpipe-like, in a specific order as the engine is running in order to keep it from dying at the lights. Could I fix it? Not until they create a bottle of head-gasket fix that also cures giant holes in the block.

Sure, I could park a few blocks away and walk there, but the valet will smell the desperation on me. If I have a rusty, propane-spurting 1970s Chrysler product, maybe I'm an eccentric. There's fewer of those left than Ferrari 458s, which makes me a "vintage collector," at least in the eyes of the super-rich-people yacht-owning magazine I tricked into doing an interview with me last year. All that goes out the window if I show up on foot. Same goes for letting my dinner date drive me there: her Hyundai Tucson is, well, a Hyundai Tucson. Not eccentric at all. Practical. They hate that there.

Ultimately, I think I'm going to have to bite the bullet and do things the hard way. I've already applied for a job as their assistant valet. There's an employee discount, and I'm pretty sure that I'll be head valet once the bossman sees that I can fit like 700% as many cars in there as the old guy. It's just going to take a few weeks to get them back out again, which is even better for business.

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 35]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.2K

Chapter warning(s): Alcohol and alcohol consumption.

"Hey, I'm headed off. I'll see you back at mine?" You told Yunho.

"Hang on." He told Yeosang and came over to follow you into the kitchen. Even if he was seeing you in an hour or two, Yunho always insisted on walking you out.

"Mmm, rest well. I'll see you later." He bear hugged you and kissed your cheek. Lip kisses was still a little rare with the two of you, especially in a public space. But Yunho was grateful to receive them anyway. When it was just the two of you, he would always steal kisses and kiss you whenever he could.

"Let me know when you're on the way. I'll leave the door unlocked in case I'm in the shower or something." You said.

"Alright." He patted your head, waving to Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho, who were waiting by their cars. The 3 waved back to the tall male as you jogged to Seonghwa.

"Let's go." You jumped in.

"Luckily I did all the prep last night and some cooking just now. Tomorrow's off day will be spent sleeping." You giggled.

"Yeah, we'll probably all end up crashing at yours anyway after tonight." He chuckled in agreement as he drove back to your house. When he parked, you saw Wooyoung and Jongho.

"Come on." Jongho held your hand and all 4 of you headed in.

Tonight, all of you were surprising Yunho with a party to celebrate the restaurant being open for 6 months. His friends were in on it too, they'll try to get to your house before Yunho since he is driving alone, thinking it was just another night of sleeping at your place.

"Let's get started." You pulled your apron on to continue cooking the dishes that Yunho liked. It was an effort on everyone's part to keep the restaurant going but you wanted to make it special for Yunho.

"Check the pork shoulder for me?" You requested. Wooyoung was at the oven in an instant.

"Texture is looking good. I'll remove the foil to get the crackling going." He said and you nodded your head.

"It still has about an hour to go. It's been going for 7 hours." You informed, checking the timer and the piece of paper where you wrote down the dishes.

"Here's all the prep stuff." Jongho brought the deli containers of prepped ingredients to Seonghwa.

"Luckily we worked on all this last night. Now it's just putting it together." Jongho noted.

"Yes but like I was telling Hwa, we'll spend the day getting the sleep we deserve tomorrow." You laughed. Wooyoung and Jongho nodded in agreement. Like always, no matter where your team was, you all worked so well together.

"Abura soba is done, pork shoulder is in the oven, steaks will be done last minute. Can I start the arrancini or does anyone need any hands?" You called out.

"Don't forget to frost the cake!" Wooyoung reminded.

"You do that, I'll get started on the arrancini. Then you can take over." Jongho patted your shoulder.

"Thanks." You went to the larger fridge in your pantry and took the cake out. Grabbing an offset spatula, you frosted the cake over the crumb coat you had applied on earlier.

"Honestly, thank god for your prior planning skills in this. If you only had that main fridge out there, we wouldn't fit all this."

"I know. But honestly, that initial bedroom in the back was so small, it was easier to just turn it into a pantry. I needed that space more than a spare bedroom anyway." You chuckled, piping the frosting in a elegant pattern over the top of the cake. After writing the letters, you put the cake back in the fridge.

"Oh, Hongjoong and the others are on the way. They rushed out of there while Yunho was locking up the place." Seonghwa said. On cue, you sent Yunho a text to stall him.

"What did you ask him?" Wooyoung asked.

"Said to pick up a few blocks of butter since I'm recipe testing." You chuckled. Of course, the ever kind Yunho agreed to do it.

*DING DONG*

"Must be the others." You went to open the door for them. San engulfed you in a hug, as if you didn't just see him a few hours ago. But you still patted his back to reciprocate.

"Welcome, make yourselves at home." You smiled and went back to the kitchen.

"Woah, it's like a restaurant kitchen in here." Hongjoong said, seeing the size of the kitchen.

"Who needs a dining area?" You raised your eyebrows with a laugh. The boys all greeted each other then tried to help where they could. It was amusing seeing Mingi venture through your house, respectfully of course, and seeing your pantry.

"Wow! It's like a convenience store in here but less packaged snacks and sweets." Mingi said, making everyone laugh.

"With the way we cook, we need more space to keep stuff, which also means two fridges. And frankly, we run out of space quite often." Jongho said.

"Yunho just got the butter, he's on the way. 15 minutes." You informed, reading the text.

"We better get started on decorations." Yeosang took out the small balloons and simple streamers that they bought.

"This is the dressing, if you could help dress the salad. Just shake it up first since the oil separated." Wooyoung handed the salad bowl and dressing container to San.

"Where are the cups?" Mingi asked. You pointed to the cupboard and showed him where all the cutlery, plates and bowls were as well.

"Steak is tented and resting." Seonghwa announced.

"Getting the short ribs out." You said. Seonghwa came over held the big serving bowl for you while you took out pieces of the short rib and poured the sauce over. The meat was so soft, falling off the bone as you used your tongs to put it into the bowl. You tore off a small piece to give Seonghwa and yourself.

"It's perfect." He smiled. You laughed and he brought the serving bowl to put with the rest of the food.

"Yah! Stop stealing! Take some salad if you're that hungry." San whined as Hongjoong took a piece of the steak that he was bringing to the food table.

"Nah, no vegetables for me. Waste of calories." Hongjoong scrunched his nose in disgust.

"Hongjoong, that spiced chicken dish I made the other day for family meal? It's mostly vegetables, you ate all that." You pointed out.

"What? Really?! (y/n), I trusted you!" Hongjoong yelled.

"You trust me to take care of you, I do that by feeding you vegetables and making you healthy." You scoffed. Seonghwa slung his arm around you, laughing at hongjoong.

"Like hiding vegetables in a kid's meal." Seonghwa chuckled. You hummed, you were all used to this. Working in multiple restaurants, parents always requested that you somehow hide vegetables in their children's food.

*DING DONG*

"That's Yunho!" You broke away to go to the door while Wooyoung dimmed the lights.

"Hi, love. Sorry, I'm late. I got your butter!" Yunho held the bag up with a proud grin. You chuckled, he really looked so cute. You reached up to pat his head.

"Thank you for making the detour." You smiled softly. His golden retriever tail must be thumping against the ground happily now.

"Don't mention it. It's no big deal." He leaned down to hug you, nuzzling his cheek against yours.

"Why's it so dark?" Yunho tilted his head as he entered. You shrugged, leaning against the wall as you waited for him to remove his shoes. Being dim, he didn't notice his friends' shoes there.

"What's going o-"

"Surprise! Happy 6 months to the restaurant!" The lights turned on and everyone jumped up. Yunho jumepd slightly at the sound, eyes widening as he realised what was going on. He was speechless, turning to you then to his friends then back to you. You just laughed at his dumbfounded, surprised reaction.

"What?! So this is why you all rushed off?" Yunho went to his friends, pointing a finger at them. Even if he had an accusatory tone, he was smiling the whole time.

"Oh, just thank us for the surprise." Mingi rolled his eyes, going over to hug his best friend.

"Thank you, everyone." Yunho said over Mingi's shoulder.

"I honestly didn't even know that it has been 6 months, time flies so quickly." He continued, patting Mingi's back until he let go. Jongho was quick to put a drink in Yunho's hand.

"Hey, eat first." Seonghwa scolded. Yunho's eyes sparkled as he saw all his favourite dishes lined up.

"It's all my favourites!" Yunho took his phone out to tak a picture of all the dishes.

All the boys queued up to get their food, filling at least two plates each with food before sitting in your living room to eaat together. Wooyoung and Jongho went around, pouring everyone a drink, insisting that everyone must have a little.

"Mhmm, the short ribs are so good. The meat is so tender." San hummed happily as he chewed, already digging in. He cast you a smile, to which you smiled back.

"Yah! We haven't had a toast yet." Hongjoong said. San shrugged, not interested in the alcohol at all.

"Speech, speech!" You and Yeosang giggled as you chanted, trying to put Yunho on the spot. He shot you a glare of betrayal.

"Uhh, you know I'm bad at speeches... Thank you for this surprise and for the past 6 months. We have a good thing going thanks to all of your efforts, so let's continue to do that?" He tilted his head.

"Wow, he's really bad..." Mingi shook his head.

"I'd like to see you try." Yunho hissed. But everyone raised their cups anyway to toast to Yunho, themselves and the restaurant.

"Your ears are red." You chuckled, reaching up to gently rub his burning ears, before taking a sip of your drink.

"There you go, teasing me again." He pouted, leaning over to give you a kiss. You knew this was just Yunho trying to tease you back, plus he was happy with the fact that you've helped him keep the restaurant going for 6 months. He didn't even consider the weight of his actions until Hongjoong and San teased him.

"Get a room!" Jongho yelled. Yunho's face turned bright red, groaning as he buried his face in your chest, his arms holding your waist. You laughed at his embarrassment.

"Hey, you were the one who kissed me." You said as you stroked the back of his head.

"Stop~" He whined.

"Okay, okay. Start eating." You waved everyone off. Ultimately, you had a soft spot for Yunho and would easily give in to help him. You caught Seonghwa laughing at how soft you were for Yunho.

"Shut up, Hwa." You glared. You pulled Yunho's face away from yours and he stared up at you.

"Eat a lot. I made your favourites." You smiled. He nodded and began to eat but still kept one arm around your waist.

"So good." He smiled at you. You watched as Wooyoung and San deliberately put a heaping spoon of salad onto Hongjoong's plate, right on top of the meat that he was eating. Hongjoong yelled at the two, threatening to hit them.

"You have to eat too." You looked down to see Yunho holding his chopsticks out to you. You gave in and ate the piece of meat he had in his chopsticks then ate your own food.

"More drinks!" Jongho went around topping everyone up.

"Hope you're ready for us to crash here, (y/n)." Yeosang laughed. You nodded with a thumbs up.

"I am prepared for that. I'll just leave you guys out here. There's one guest room down the hall, help yourselves to it... If you can make it there." You giggled.

"Yeah, I'm crashing in (y/n)'s room." Wooyoung said.

"No, I am." Seonghwa hit the back of his head. You remembered the last time that happened, you were chased out of your own bed.

"But... I..." Yunho said softly before pursing his lips, about to raise his hand to interject. He wanted to say that he was going to be the one sharing a bed with you tonight but he knew Wooyoung and Seonghwa, especially, claimed that spot in your bed way before he did. He put his hand down with a pout.

"Yah, you two can take the bed in the guest room. Yunho's with me now. There's no space." You spoke up, making Yunho's head whip around to look at you in disbelief.

"Wow... Ultimate betrayal." Seonghwa shook his head. Wooyoung nodded along with Seonghwa.

"Because the last time you guys tried to squeeze on my bed, I had to go to the guest room to bunk with Jongho." You rolled your eyes.

"It's because you don't want to cuddle." Wooyoung pointed out.

"With the two of you, it's more smothering than cuddling." You scoffed as you drank your drink. The other boys just laughed at the way the 3 of you bantered.

"Okay! We're doing shots now!" Hongjoong went around passing out shot cups and topping them up.

"This is not going to end well..." San shook his head but took the shot anyway. Yunho gulped his shot and poured himself another. Jongho grinned mischeviously, refilling Mingi's shot glass while the taller was distracted by his food.

"You didn't drink, Mingi hyung." Jongho said innocently.

"What? You're lying, you just refilled it, didn't you? I swear I drank when Hongjoong hyung gave out the shots." Mingi argued, scratching his head.

"Nah, you're just tipsy." Wooyoung added to Jongho's lie, trying to convince Mingi otherwise.

"Oh... Okay, fine." Mingi took the shot, shaking the empty glass above his head to prove that he had finished everything.

"Don't get too drunk before we have a chance to cut the cake." Seonghwa announced loudly beside you. But you were not fast enough to cover his mouth

"Cake?" Yunho blinked.

"Hwa! You're drunk and being a loud mouth." You hissed but Seonghwa just smiled dreamily at you, cupping your cheeks and leaning forward to give you a big, loud kiss on your forehead. You crinkled your nose uncomfortably and slapped his hands away while Yunho laughed in amusement.

"Yes, there's a celebratory cake too. I baked it early this morning and frosted it just now. It was supposed to be a surprise but I guess not anymore." You told Yunho.

"It's okay, I'm always up for cake. Thank you." Yunho rubbed your knuckles with his thumbs.

"What flavour is it?" Yunho asked.

"It's-"

"Shh, Hwa. Shh." You put a finger to your lips. Seonghwa grinned and leaned his head on your shoulder, taking another sip of his drink. You rolled your eyes, reaching up to pat his head.

But Seonghwa was right, before the boys and yourself got too drunk, you took out the cake and placed it right in the middle of the coffee table.

"Can I know what flavour it is now?" Yunho asked.

"It's a tiramisu cake with salted caramel frosting. Like a caramel macchiato, your favourite drink." You explained. Yunho softened, the alcohol along with the realisation of everything you and the others have done for him making him emotional.

"Are you crying?!" Mingi pointed out in disbelief. Yunho let out a choked sob as he hugged you again, burying his face against your chest as he cried.

"I'm just... grateful... for all of you..." He cried.

"Yun, we're glad to have such a great boss who takes care of us." You said, comforting him.

"Don't cry!" San, obviously already drunk, came over to hug Yunho. Hongjoong, who was also tearing up, joined the hug. It was odd seeing he usually didn't like skinship from the boys.

"You big puppy! You're making all of us emotional." Wooyoung went over with open arms to hug them all.

"They stole my boyfriend so... come here, Hwa." You hugged your best friend, who blinked in confusion but still hugged you tightly.

"I love you~" He giggled.

"I love you too, Hwa hwa." You laughed, patting his back. Once all the hugs were broken, Jongho, who was the only one sturdy enough to cut the cake, sliced it up and gave it out to everyone. Yunho held his plate and insisted on feeding you. After you took the bite, he giggled drunkenly and pressed his forehead against yours.

"I love you. I love this cake!" He laughed. You couldn't help but laugh at how cute tipsy Yunho was. You were definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol too. It was the first time Yunho said he loves you.

"Don't cry anymore and eat cake, hmm?" You giggled, reaching out to wipe the stray tears on his cheeks. He nodded obediently and ate the cake with a smile.

"Thank you for doing this..." He said, pulling you close to kiss your temple.

"Nothing to thank me for. I'm glad you enjoyed the surprise." You shook your head with a soft smile. Yunho hugged you again.

"This cake is soooooo good! Best! Cake! Ever!" San yelled, jumping to his feet and pointing to the cake.

"Shh, San. No yelling." Yeosang scolded, making San sit back down. Although Jongho still spoke coherantly, you knew from the glazed look in his eyes that he was nearly gone too.

"Alright, I think it's time to go to bed. We'll all be dealing with hangovers tomorrow." You said.

"Booooo!" The boys jeered at you. Jongho helped you move Yunho to your room first. You stumbled as you picked up the used plates and cutlery, just to leave them in the kitchen. Wooyoung's eyes were half lidded as he laid on your rug.

"That's that..." You draped a blanket over him and moved to help move the others.

"Wait, where's Mingi?" You looked around, realising the other tall giant wasn't there. Yeosang went to the guest room to see the tall boy fast asleep on the bed.

"He's in... the guest room... asleep." Yeosang spoke slowly, leaning against the wall as he yawned.

"(y/n), go to bed. We'll handle it." Jongho said, moving Seonghwa to the couch and putting one of the blankets over him while Yeosang got Hongjoong.

"Okay, goodnight. See you all tomorrow." You smiled. They waved back before you enter your room. Yunho was hugging Yuyu and Yunnie, sleeping with a small frown on his face.

"Yun..." You slipped under the covers.

"(y/n)...?" He lifted his head groggily. He moved Yunnie and Yuyu aside, reaching over to hug you and tucked his head into the crook of your neck. You sighed blissfully, fingers threading through the ends of his hair behind his head. He pressed kisses to your neck, making you shiver slightly.

"Sleep, Yun." You whispered, yawning yourself. He gave a small nod and a hum, falling asleep right away.

"Shh! Wooyoung hyung, San hyung, stop singing!" You chuckled as you heard Jongho scold the drunk boy. Looking down at Yunho, you caressed his cheek with a loving smile.

"I love you too." You whispered, tilting Yunho's head up to give him a peck despite him being asleep.

~

Series masterlist

[katyspersonal]

nobody:

Kood: Oh, so, you "like" Messmer? Say the exact amount of strength applied which it took him to impale every single Dancing Lion that he hunted. Name the day he finished reforging his spear for it to become throwable and how many times did he have to throw it. Say the exact timing, down to tens of second, which it took him to cu-

Queelign: I am literally lurking in the cemetery waiting for those graceless Hornsents to visit the graves of their killed ones to ambush and kill them too, Queen Marika would be so proud of me! :D

Wego: Man I wish I had friends, too bad I literally have no one, I am so lonely I'll have to resort to resurrecting dead people :( *spoken literally nearby fellow Knights, including his literal pupil*

Salza: Hey just because I take #1 place amongst everyone else in the Crusade in terms of how many villages and houses I've obliterated doesn't mean I am no longer an intellectual elite. I am the most civilised, cultured and intelligent person here.

Hilde: These idiots do not understand that even the Erdtree itself stand on cultural appropriation! How can we fight in the name of Marika and uh... I think that guy literally named Whore at some point, with that big lion...? if we ignore how much was stolen from the Storm Lord and Godskin Apostles? I swear I am the only one who truly gets it smh. Can't wait to get rid of all Hornsent already so we can use their knowledge to build our OWN Divine Spiral, it will be sick af 👀

Messmer: Hahah no one loves my mother as much as I do, I understand what is better for her Order more than she does herself *mood swing* I hate that bitch, why she never loved me?! *crashes a head off a statue of her* *mood swing* Oh god I am the worst being I am more of a curse upon her than any of these graceless barbarians were ever, disowning me was not enough, she should have killed me... *mood swing* I should have burnt her and her Erdtree instead while I had the chance to do so, only in death we could stand equal *mood swing* I love her so much I can at least find comfort in destroying everyone who doesn't fit her world, it is the least I can do to atone for being born graceless myself *mood swing*

Rellana: Pledge to the Golden Order was a weird era but now we are so back, Stars/Moon and Fire have always been together, since the times of Fire Giants and Astrologers! But to think of it, does the 'Fire' that swears to exterminate everything spurned of the grace of the Erdtree count, if it was Erdtree's enemy? Strange, how the very thing that existed as its enemy got tamed to serve it instead? Dammit, my flawless brilliant logic got a crack in it all because of Messmer's mommy issues!!! (still love him and will die for him tho 🥺💙)

Andreas: I can excuse fascism and genocide, but I draw the line at being a SNAKE!

Huw: <prev so real, had I known my bestie was a snake I'd definitely not go and have sooooo much fun hunting Divine Beasts. I am so deceived.

Edredd: To think of it, more soldiers got executed here for no longer wanting to do genocide than fell from the blades of Hornsents, but idk a job is a job 🤷‍♂️

Garrew: *has the most fucking questionable Crucible aspect ever seen except no one wants to actually question it*

[tpher]

scary girl analysis !

something something the most clearly gimmicky gen 4 character we know. as your resident pahkitew island apologist, i dont care. it actually took me a bit to warm up to her and i figured id talk abt why that is

so her main thing is being creepy and sadistic for the sake of jokes. its not serious.. mostly. she does prove to actually be down to hurt others (such as when she got a hold of a jackhammer). but what about an instance where she wanted to hurt someone for actual reasons? when was that?

that was when priya went up to her to compliment her on doing a good job on the previous challenge. priya says that shes surprised by scary girl having done a good job.

scary girls response?

a very defensive "oh, it surprised you that i was good? cuz you thought id do bad?"

and thats the thesis of this post

scary girl is very insecure

backing up for a moment, in ep 2 when the teams were on ships and attacking each other, she was the one who came up with the idea of sinking the other teams ship as an idea on what to do when they were out of ammo (? iirc). but no one else heard that, just zee

then in ep 3, ripper makes her go last in the relay race thing bc he didnt want her to "blow things" for the team. she reacts by trying to bite his finger. not with a funny creepy smile, but with genuine anger to her literal bite. and then during that challenge, she infamously grabs a bear by the arm and starts beating it up while saying "thats what you get for growling at me!!!". once shes done, she goes "byeee" and goes on like nothing happened. proving that if someone wrongs her, she can easily let it go.. so long as she gets to do something back. remember this for later

and here we come back to her interaction with priya. so far, scary girl has proven herself to be a pretty alright player and she herself knows that. so the notion of someone being SURPRISED she did well?? does not sit well with her at all. but the way that she harps on the wording, even before zee steps in to make it worse, is what gets to me. it just really adds an extra layer to her character that, well. ironically surprised me! for someone who always seems to be in her own world, so unconventional, so ill-fitting with everyone else to also be insecure in some capacity?

anyway she tries to hurt priya with a spoon but gets interrupted. later on, priya is still thinking abt their encounter and feels bad so she tries to make it up to scary girl by flattering her. namely by saying that scary girls question was smart.. and priya being her awkward self, only dug herself in a hole by making it seem like that was a smart question by scary girls standards

scary girl is speechless. baffled. mad beyond words

it should be noted that scary girl looked offended when priya even started speaking. meaning that she also did not forget about their conversation that morning. she REALLY took it to heart. applying the bear logic here, had scary girl hurt her with the spoon earlier, would she be less mad? would she had considered each other even? and in that case, would this comment go over better or would it had simply restarted her need for revenge?

well. they dont interact for the rest of the episode up until the very end. after ripper used priya as a human shield, obviously injuring her

scary girl tells her that rippers a jerk and that priya didnt deserve that. so she'll be voting to get ripper out. and calls priya her "friend".

(her face and tone makes me a bit suspicious if this was genuine. but thats probably just her being her offputting self so i'll ignore it.) ok so by scary girl logic, priya deserved to have SOMETHING bad coming her way after what she said to her.

but not this.

scary girl, who came here to "make friends and watch them get really hurt", was not okay with what ripper did to priya. perhaps she thinks that only she could be allowed to hurt priya to balance things out? personally giving priya her karma, perhaps?

but now she considers priya a "friend". who likely wants to see her get hurt. but in the fun way that scary girl likely sees most other contestants as, possibly? idk.

anyway after all of that, we can see just how insecure scary girl can get over unintentionally awkward phrasing. just how deeply it hurts her feelings to be underestimated like that

season 2 spoilers ahead !!!

in season 2, we see even less of her. but there is SO much to work with

normal girl is so fascinating to me

by the time s2 starts, scary girl already has an all new look. shes trying to be "normal"

she admits in her confessional that some ppl thought she was too scary in the first season so thats why she changed her appearance and her everything. who were these ppl?

other than a dog as a joke, online forums, showing an interesting glimpse into the in-universe ""real world"" stepping into total drama. perhaps also a meta joke on the fandoms response to her but who knows. imagine unabashedly being yourself on tv and everyone is telling you to change. you are 16 and likely going through a weird phase. feeling a lot of heightened emotions already and ""knowing"" that this is who you are (at the moment). and if its not a phase? still 16 on international television getting lambasted by millions

and last but not least, her MOM??? her own mother. that just raises more questions abt how scary girl was before getting on td. was she NOT like this before? was she playing it up for the cameras? or did she just go unhinged without parental supervision? in any case the fact is that even her own mom wasnt okay with what makes her happy and how she presented herself.

so scary girls solution? to try her best to suppress anything that made her unique. to try to adhere to "societal norms", in her own words.

we dont see much of her in this ep other than her commenting on how shes normal and totally did not want to see someone get hurt. shes clearly struggling so bad. she knows that apparently what she likes isnt "right", therefore the opposite must be true, right?

she is simultaneously so immediately different that the others didnt even recognize her at first. yet still so "scary" that she cant fit in. she just doesnt know how no matter how hard she tries. if she were to stay longer, what can she do? this game is not only abt your skills in the challenges its also a social thing. how long until she snapped and went back to her old ways?

and then we get to the campfire ceremony. chef is about to call out whatever it was the she did wrong that day, but she interrupts him with a simple "no."

she cannot fathom being sent home, at least not this early. bc shes normal! she is sooo normal and she tried SO HARD to be normal! she read normal books and normal movies and studied normal people. she even taught herself to smile in a more acceptable way, which is so autistic coded to me. so she deserves to stay longer.

(getting flashbacks to my topher psychoanalysis and his entitlement being both a tragedy and his self-imposed downfall)

..but she studied "normal people" in her own not-normal way. while they werent looking. while they were sleeping. while they had no idea she was there.

so she got booted out for that. and she cannot believe it.

when she says that she "didnt even try to hurt anyone this time", she is mad. that was her ""fun"" and she managed to control it 100% only to get eliminated??? shes fed up!

but when she talks about how she taught herself how to smile in a "less-creepy" way?

she softens up and looks genuinely hurt.

she tried so hard. she saw all those horrible comments from people judging her based on like 5 episodes on a reality show. her own mother didnt accept her. her insecurity won and she aimed to change and repress everything that made her unique

and it still wasnt enough

[dxmedstudent]

I haven't been on Tumblr in a while but wanted to check how you're doing! How is married life treating you and how is work- I remember last time you were applying for GP training! I'm just coming to the end of F1 :)

Me neither, Anon! Honestly? I have been meaning to come back to Tumblr a while ago, but life has been busy! I had tried to spend less time on socual media so i could focus on my membership exams, and that went too well.

Time flies, I can't believe it's been more than 10 years since I joined tumblr or graduated from med school.

I can't remember which updates I've already shared, so I'll make a list.

Married life is great - pretty similar to pre-married life. Because we started off in different cities due to my training and covid, it's honestly just a joy to live together and be able to hang out. I've been meaning to post a couple of anonymised wedding photos. It still feels amazing that we managed to get all the people we love together. We also managed to fly out to my birth country so that DxDude could meet my relatives...most of whom don't speak English. It was hilarious and lovely and he took being mobbed by an army of Eastern European Babushkas very well.

We adopted a cat! His owner died suddenly and my parents sort of got left with the cat. It was at a difficult time, as it was around the time my beloved cat passed away last year. I still miss her. But I couldn't let someone's baby, a lovely senior cat, live out his last days in a shelter. He's a little 14ish year old man called Sherlock. He loves being held and sitting on my shoulders and he drools when he gets excited. We've been trying to discourage his habit of nipping you when he wants something.

My houseplants and balcony plants may be slowly getting out of control, but I'm happy I have lots of them, and i would have more if we weren't running out of space. I'm currently waging a war against mealybugs. Send thoughts and prayers.

I did get into GP training! And it was local to where I wanted to be, which made it much easier to finally move in together. In fact, I JUST finished GP training a couple of weeks ago and am now living my GP dreams working in one of the practices that I trained in. It's very inner city London. Our patients have complex needs, and I'm honoured to ve in a team that have a lot of experience serving patients affected by substance abuse, homelessness and refugee populations and other complex issues.

We went on Honeymoon to Japan! It was amazing, and I'd still love to go again. I was bold enough to arrange my Honeymoon to be barely a month before a postgraduate exam, but I passed!

This past academic year has been filled with sitting exams and jumping through the hoops required for my eportfolio. On top of working full time as a GP. I didn't think I would do it all first time TBH, but my supervisor had more faith in me than I did. It's honestly been amazing to work for a few jobs in GP training where I felt seen and wanted and where my hard work was appreciated. I can't believe my supervisor offered me my current job, and wanted me to stay on, but they did!

I finished a diploma in sexual and reproductive health and trained in fitting contraceptive implants. I'd like to train up to fit IUDs also to try to improve local access to sexual health services.

I went on strike these past couple of years, when the junior doctors went on strike again. I'm still processing the pay offer and the new government. But I'm relieved we're no loner under the Tories.

We'd like to move house, but we've not gotten around to trying to do this seriously, because my life was already stressful enough. We do need more space, and I hope we'll find somewhere modestly nice that we can afford.

We're trying for kids, and it's sadly taking much longer than we hoped. Being a patient is...a slow and frustrating experience because it already feels like I've had to work harder than I should to advocate for appropriate care. I could say a LOT about the postcode lotteries that come with UK fertility care but I'll leave that for another post.

I've finally accepted that my hair is wavy, and I'm trying out different products to lean into the natural waves and bring them out without leaving it a frizzy Hermione-esque mess. It spent tge past years mostly in a plait or cadet bun, but I'm finally giving my hair a bit more freedom. I have NOT yet accepted that my hair is mostly white at this point. I alternate between wanting to go grey (because that would look cool) and wanting to stay brown because that's kind of how I've imagined myself for the past 35+ years.

I finally get to indulge in painting my nails. I've loved it since I was like 13 and seeing my nails sparkly and colorful brings out my inner 13 year old and she is thrilled. Every time I make my nails glow in the dark, I show them off to DxDude before bed.

My laptop died and then I inherited an old laptop from my parents which is also dying. Which is part of the reason I haven't created much art in recent years. I should probably just bite the bullet and buy a new one, but my exams and diplomas have been expensive so I've been putting it off. To be fair I also made the decision to use my limited free time to keep up with friends and family IRL and try not to feel bad about taking a break from creating. I felt like I was blaming myself for not managing to do everything I wanted to do. I've slowly accepted that none of us can do everything.

I think that's it for now. Looking forward to catching up with what medblr are up to 😃

[pepsiboyy]

starboy part 1

P1 P2

pairing: y/n x chris sturniolo

summary: y/n, born and raised in los angeles, moves across the country to boston. when she feels like she has nobody, she makes some new friends at her new job. she grows particularly close with the sturniolo triplets, where she finds a lot in common with one of them.

warnings: just cursing

lowercase intentional!!!

author's note: hii! this is my first story on here and i hope it goes okay?? idk i suppose we will see where it goes. thanks a ton for reading!! let me know what you think! sincerely, apollo <3

my head smacked against the car window, causing me to immediately lift my head and blink a few times.

"morning, y/n. sleep well?" my mom carefully stated while looking at me in the rearview mirror. i shrugged and tried to keep my eyes opened as i watched all of the unfamiliar buildings pass by.

everything was so different here.

-

a few weeks ago, my mom received a job offer here in boston. our family didn't particularly struggle with money, but if she wanted to keep her job, we had to move.

me, on the other hand? i couldn't believe what i was hearing when she sat me down at the dining room table. "what do you mean we're... leaving?" i felt my hands shake. sadness? anger? i couldn't even tell.

"well, i got a job offer-" she started, but i immediately cut her off with my hands slamming against the table.

"fuck your job offer, what about everything we have here!? my friends, my job... everything?" i shouted, my voice beginning to shake towards the end.

"language," my mom started, but let out a deep sigh, "i understand your frustration. that's why we're waiting until you graduate."

-

i let out a shaky sigh at the thought. this wasn't fair. my best friend was still in los angeles, harper. she was my best friend since childhood, and leaving her hurt more than anything i could even describe.

"we're here," my mom breathed, looking at me through the rearview mirror. i could tell she was trying to read my emotions, sadness in her eyes. i stared at her for a few moments before opening the car door and stepping out quickly.

"wow, it's gorgeous." i heard my father say, his arm wrapping around my mom's waist as he kissed the top of her head. i felt myself physically cringe as i grabbed my bags and a few pairs of shoes that didn't fit within the bags. i looked at the house in front of me.

it was pretty nice. fairly homey. very different from our house back in california. i took in a deep breath before beginning to walk towards the door.

-

my room was pretty nice, i had to admit. it was a little bigger than my room back at home- or.. what was home, i guess. i laid against my bed and stared at my ceiling before standing up.

while i was packing, i applied for a few jobs here in boston. a lot of them turned me down as i only have a little bit of work experience, but what can you do? i guess. i got accepted by a grocery store though, one i hadn't seen before. it was called star market? we didn't have those on the west coast, but they're pretty popular here. the pay was minimum wage, but it's a start. it didn't really matter to me. anything to get me out of the house and just do something. get myself out there.

i let out a deep sigh and closed my eyes. with every thought racing through my head, finally i managed to let my mind rest and slowly drift into sleep.

-

"y/n, are you sure you'll be okay?" my mom mumbled, carefully touching my hair and fixing the loose strands. i chuckled softly and nodded. "i'll be fine, just a bit nervous. new place and new job." i mumbled, playing with my fingers. my mom nodded.

"i understand. you'll do great. just talk to your coworkers, maybe make friends?" she asked, smiling. i sighed.

i know she's simply trying to help, but it's hard. i had a perfectly great life in california and i feel like i'm being forced to restart completely.

"right." i replied, letting out a sigh before stepping towards the door.

-

my earbuds were playing music as i walked. i didn't have a car yet, so.. i had to walk. it's right down the street, so no biggie. in broad daylight, i didn't see it as a big deal. i hummed as i turned a corner, and sure enough, it really was right there. i crossed the street and approached the doors, blinking a few times.

so this is my new job. it looked a lot nicer in person than in the pictures. that made me feel a little better. i walked in.

"hi, umm... my name is y/n.. it's my first day?" i mumbled shyly to the older lady standing at the front. she looked me up and down. i swallowed and gripped my backpack's straps, looking around. why was she looking at me like that.

"you're y/n y/l/n?" she started to smile, and i felt a wave of relief wash over me.

"yeah," i smiled softly back.

"cool, let me call nick over." she told me before turning away and beginning to say something into her walkie.

after a few minutes of awkwardly standing with my hands in my pockets.

"hi-"

"oh fuck-" i gasped, turning around and grasping my chest. my eyes widened as i shook my head, "oh god i'm sorry- i didn't mean to say that, you just scared me," i breathed, smiling softly.

the boy laughed softly and shook his head. "oh, girl you're completely fine, i'm the same way," he chuckled.

i smiled softly. i then gasped and quickly held out my hand. "my name is y/n, it's my first day." i looked up at the boy with the nose ring and curly hair in front of me. i assumed he was nick.

"hi y/n, i like your name a lot. it's pretty! i'm nick. lose the formalities, let loose, you're good." he smiled and shook my hand softly before pulling away and beginning to walk away. i followed.

"are you from around here, or?" nick asked, turning to me and beginning to walk to the back.

"ah, yeah.. i uhh, moved here from los angeles, actually." i scoffed.

nick seemed to throw his eyebrows up as he turned to me. "los angeles? really? i've always wanted to go, i've been like once but... i still want to go, doesn't change anything." he smiled before he quickly turned to me. "sorry, it's probably like... not that special to you, but," he shrugged, "it's across the country. i mean, culture shock.... is that a real thing?"

i smiled brightly. something about the way nick spoke to me so casually was really comforting. "oh, it's definitely a real thing."

as we walked towards the back, we passed a boy with similar hair and features, and i blinked at him before i shrugged it off and kept following nick. nick seemed to notice this though, and smiled. "that's my brother, matt," he mumbled, and i smiled and nodded. "you two look really similar." i replied, before we came to a stop.

"this is where you'll clock in every day. just type in your employee number and tap clock in," he told me as he demonstrated. i nodded carefully. "it's totally normal if you don't remember your numbers, i wrote them down for you." he handed me a sticky note. i smiled and folded it, putting it into my clear phone case.

"i appreciate it, thanks." i smiled.

-

"and that's how you do it," nick stated confidently.

to be brutally honest, i was still a little lost. we kept just talking about life, random things. i found out nick and i got along really well, and we were the same age.

"i appreciate you walking me through everything," i breathed, rubbing my arm. as we walked back to customer service, i noticed a boy with longer brown hair kneeled down and putting some things on a shelf. i could hear the music playing from his earbuds from here.

nick looked at me and smiled. "oh, and that's my other brother. chris." he smiled. i blinked at him. "you guys all look the same," i started, and he stopped me. "yeah, we're triplets." he chuckled. my eyes went wide as i smiled softly. "wow, you don't see that every day." i chuckled and walked past chris.

"matt, this is y/n. she's gonna be working up here at customer service with you." nick told him, and matt turned to me with a soft smile. i smiled back at him.

"hi, i'm matt." he mumbled, holding out his hand. we shook hands quickly. this guy was so shy but he seemed cool, too. "hi, matt." i smiled at him.

-

the day went by surprisingly fast. i talked a lot with matt, and found out that we have a lot of similar tastes in music and style. "you should talk to my brother chris, he likes that a lot too," he would tell me. i felt like he said it every other sentence, actually. "wow, i really gotta meet this chris guy then, don't i?" was how i finally responded.

matt nodded with a warm smile. "yeah, you do." he smiled.

he helped me a lot with customers throughout the day, and learning the system. he was very helpful, and the way he spoke with customers was kind of admirable. i was excited to be as knowledgeable as he was to those who needed it.

"what do you drive?" he asked me after helping someone, and i blinked. "oh, i don't drive- i walked here." i smiled at him, but my smile dropped when i noticed him look at me with shock, and some worry. "you walked here?" he asked, blinking a few times. i shrugged. "yeah, my house is literally right around the corner.

"i can take you home, i wouldn't walk around at night," he stated firmly, looking at me with only seriousness. i smiled softly. these guys were really nice. "i'd umm.. i'd like that, actually." i smiled.

"matty-poo, are you clocked out yet?" a voice rang in the distance, very similar to his.

"i told you to stop calling me that, chris. have you met y/n?" he questioned, smiling at him. i looked over at chris and felt like i might stop breathing in that moment.

he was stunning. and he may have looked nearly identical to the other two, but something about his hair and the way it perfectly fell on his head, the way he was dressed so laid back and clearly himself yet still appropriately for work.

"y/n?" i heard matt say as i turned quickly to him and then back to chris. "oh, right, sorry. hi, name's y/n," i chuckled shyly and held out my hand. chris, instead of shaking my hand, dapped me up and snapped softly afterwards. i chuckled. i didn't know people did that in boston, too.

"hi, i'm chris." he smiled softly.

"i gotta finish cleaning up a few things here, if you and y/n wanna head to the car? we're giving her a ride home." matt mumbled as he was getting the trash together. i offered to help, but this guy insisted on doing closing duties for the night.

"oh okay sick, sure. come on, y/n." chris stated and began walking towards the car, pulling his hoodie over his head. i followed closely behind him. it was sort of awkward at first, but i heard his music again and smiled softly. i tapped his shoulder, indicating i wanted to tell him something.

"poppin by yeat?" i asked, and he blinked a few times, fully putting his earbuds away and into his pocket. "damn, you listen to year?" he smiled and put his hands in his pockets.

i chuckled and shrugged. "i dabble. i listen to whatever sounds cool." chris smiled. "good taste." i nodded as we approached what i assumed was their car. a kia sedona. simple, but perfect for them, i thought.

chris leaned against the side of the car, and after some thought, i leaned against the car beside him. "the stars are really nice here in boston, much easier to see than in los angeles." i chuckled. chris looked at me as he hadn't heard the rundown yet. "you're from los angeles?" he questioned, and i nodded softly. "that's sick." he stated and turned back to the sky. "me and my brothers have always wanted to go." he smiled softly to himself.

i chuckled and nodded, having heard a few times but decided to keep my mouth shut. "it's nice, but i guess because i'm used to it, it really isn't that exciting." i hummed. he seemed to understand what i was saying.

we sat in silence for a few moments before he turned to me. "why'd you move?" he asked, and i scoffed. "i um.. my mom got a new job. just like in the movies." i mumbled with a soft laugh, and chris smiled at me. "you graduate?" he asked, and i nodded. "yeah, left a week and a half afterwards." i mumbled. he frowned. "i'm sorry to hear," he replied, and i smiled at him. "don't be. i appreciate it though." he smiled softly. "yeah, no problem."

we sat in silence before he turned to me and popped open his airpods case, motioning it towards me. "airpod?" he asked, and i smiled and carefully took one, placing it in my ear. i checked them beforehand.

he put on music and we sat in silence and listened to his playlist. without a doubt, we had the same taste in music.

"y/n!!! how was your first day!!" nick shouted from the distance as he ran towards their car, making me smile brightly.

-

the car ride was peaceful, i sat beside nick in the backseat while matt drove and chris accompanied him in the passenger seat. chris and matt argued for about five minutes before we left about who would have the aux, and i smiled when chris got the aux and put on a song i was fairly familiar with.

"and then a left here," i stated, humming softly to the music. i saw matt shoot chris a glance, resulting in chris smacking matt's arm.

"aaand it's here," i smiled and sat up, waiting for matt to come to a stop before undoing my seatbelt. "i really appreciate you guys for today, thank you for helping me today and making me feel at home." i smiled gently. "i'll see you guys tomorrow?" i mumbled, and matt shook his head. "nick and i are off tomorrow, but chris will be there." he mumbled, and chris gave me a big thumbs up. i smiled softly and nodded, waving and jogging to my door.

-

considering the store closed at midnight, it was about 12:45 by the time i got in my room and sighed. my parents were asleep. i looked around and hummed to myself.

i'll unpack tomorrow morning, i thought.

i changed and laid in bed in my pajamas, staring at my ceiling. i really did have a great day, but chris and the way he just seemed to understand me really struck me. i looked at my hands and sighed softly.

no way i have lived here for two days and already find a guy cute.

i let out a deep, hefty sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. i'll see where it goes, i thought.

and with that, i slowly fell asleep, looking forward to working with chris tomorrow.

HELLO PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT U GUYS THING i feel like i rambled so bad in this??? this is my first thing i've written in a long time and it's very much like..... a pilot? it really goes through the reader meeting the triplets and going through the first day - i APROMISEDJGKSAJDFG it gets more interesting UGHHH ok happy 5am goodnight <333 sincerely, apollo <33

[v3nusxsky]

We both know how much I love your writing so I have to request some more sub Larissa x dom reader. (Plot is completely changeable as always I'll happily read whatever you write.)

My idea was r and Larissa went to school together. They had a mutual dislike of each other, r thought Larissa was stuck up and a rich prick who didn't know anything about real life and Larissa was annoyed r didn't apply themselves because they were smart.

Flashforward to present and r is at parents weekend since they look after their little brother and Larissa invites r back to her office for wine for a catch up and they end up finally admitting why they both annoyed eachother so much is because they both had a thing for the other and they finally end up fucking and r lovingly teasing Larissa about how submissive she is for them compared to how dominant she pretends to be for her job?

If it fits could you include biting/marking kink, bondage, breeding kink, bratty Larissa 9

Wand lots of after care?

Thank you so much!

Smoke and mirrors 18+

*Authors note~ only one tonight guys I’m sorry! I have to go on a family trip tomorrow so it’s been stressing me out preventing me from writing. Also car trouble which is equally as stressful! But here we go, I hope this is okay for you all*

Trigger Warnings~slight angst? Sub l dom r biting/marking kink breeding kink degrading and praise kink mommy kink strap on, oral sex

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

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You'd changed a lot since your Nevermore days, that much was certain, you and your brother Emerson had lost your mother three years ago. Since then, you'd raised him as practically your own son. Your ability is telepathy while he was a siren. So it really made sense that you were to send him to Nevermore just like your parents had with you. Your time at Nevermore was nothing but enjoyable apart from the stuck up rich prick that you had a dorm with. The raven haired girl wasn't so bad, hardly ever stayed in Ophelia hall but the blonde? God you couldn't stand how she acted or held herself. Really she didn't know anything about real life where you have to fight for everything and anything. Nothing is handed to you on a plate. Running to daddy wasn't an option because daddy was never there. It wasn't just you though, Larissa found you irritating, to her you could apply yourself more to your studdies, stop leaving everything to the last minute and take some responsibility for yourself. You had the brains and she knew that, she just wished you would use them more.

Arriving for Emerson's first parent's weekend was exciting, you'd missed the young lad and truly couldn't wait to hear about his experiences at Nevermore. What you were not expecting was to be greeted by Larissa. Surly she would've left Nevermore like you? It appeared not. "Emer? Who's that?" You whispered to your brother causing him to smile, "Principal Weems, she said I can go her anytime I miss mom or dad." So it appeared she did have a kind part of her. Interestingly. Maybe your younger self misjudged the blonde.

After she did her talk to officially start parent's weekend she began to mingle, making a beeline for you. "Emerson is this your sister darling?" She practically purred as the young boy smiled and happily introduced you to her. "Well well well, how many years has it been love? I'm sorry about Diane, she was always wonderful to me" she murmured and you nodded in thanks, "it's been a while, your principal now?" Pleasant conversation was made until Emerson's friend came to ask if he'd go into Jericho with his family and him, of course you chucked and ruffled your brothers hair okaying it. "Well it seems your at a loose end, would you like to come and catch up in my office? I have wine" she chuckled hoping the wine would sell you, truly she wanted to know about you, this air of maturity and responsibility allowing her to see how truly magical you are.

That was how you found yourself three glasses into her bottle of wine staring at the blonde, wondering how she would taste on your tongue. Perhaps that's why you did it, you lunged forward to capture the blondes lips before practically mounting her lap. Glasses of wine long forgotten as you straddled her lap, your hands roaming her clothed body as Larissa just let you. A submissive act. A smirk adorned your now slightly swollen lips, "do you want this Larissa?" You practically purred her name causing her to nod enthusiastically and cry, "please god please."

That was all it took for you to move down her body until she could lay flat on her back. Only then did you tear through her clothing to admire her in all her beautiful glory. "God you're stunning" you whimpered to her as you kissed every inch of her bare skin, loving the little gasps of need mixed with pain as you pinched and tugged on her pert buds. "Oh god please" she whined to you causing to nip at her breast, "who am I darling?"

"M-mommy?" She whispered causing you to find her stuttering adorable, the all dominant principal being nothing but a slut for her mommy just added to the power play. "Good girl darling, mommy will fix it okay?" The speed the blondes head was nodding almost had you feeling it would fall off, "please gods I need you!"

After teasing her thighs you took your first swipe from her glistening folds and you were a goner. As if you'd taken a hit of your favourite drug and needed more you dove back into her cunt, licking sucking and lapping at it. It was if you thought she'd run dry and you'd never get enough. A starving woman for the blonde. Larissa's whines and mewls for more only spurred you on in your task. You couldn't help but moan around her clit at the taste of her before slipping two fingers into her soaking cunt. "Oh god! Mommy god please wanna cum" she mewled as you lightly scrapped your teeth over the rock hard bud.

"Cum for me gorgeous" was all you offered before you went back to harshly sucking on her aching bundle of nerves. With a very undignified squeal you were reward for all your effort as her cum drenched your fingers, her hips bucking wildly to ride her orgasm out. Of course you stayed there to help her through and saver your reward before kissing back up her body. "Shall we move this to your bedroom baby?" The hazy smile and nod of her head followed by her attempting to stand on shaky legs gave you your answer. "Oh no you don't princess, I've got you" you murmured before picking the blonde up, despite her blatant attempts to say she's far too heavy only for you to capture her lips to shut her up.

Tossing the blonde on a bed like nothing more than a mere rag doll you asked where she kept her toys and of course like the good little submissive she directed you to them. There you found a wide range, so it appears the snobby uptight blonde is actually rather normal. Who would've known? Selecting what you wanted, a double ended dildo that could vibrate you made your way back to the blonde. You were admiring the marks you left on her ivory skin, the desire to make more, to add to the collection running rampant in your mind. The blonde squirming in anticipation on the bed gave you more ideas.

Larissa Weems most certainly wasn't planning to spend her parent's weekend bound to her bed at the complete mercy of her ex roommate who she thought still hated her and vice versa, but it was true what they say, there's a thin line between love and hate. You couldn't help but smile at the blonde being helpless and at your mercy. "Look at the Principal of Nevermore being nothing more than a whore for me" you teased as you secured the faux dick before teasing her soaking slit with the cock head. "Mommy! Please please put it in" she whined feeling sensitive from her previous orgasm. "Okay princess, but I will not be stopping till I've come, using you like nothing more than a flashlight for mommy."

You did just that of course, you were humping the faux cock into her pussy at such a force and pace that all she could think see and feel was you. The sight of her eyes rolling back into her beautiful brain with every brush the head of your cock made with her cervix. Her moans now nothing but incoherent babbles and pleads to continue. Of course you complied, using her fluttering hole until you wanted to stop. "God I'm gonna fill you up so good princess, gonna make you so round and full for mommy. You'd like that huh? Nothing more than a cum dumpster for mommy. Watching you swell as you carried my child. God you look so beautiful all pregnant from me" you panted as your orgasm took over your thrusts.

Larissa came around your cock for the third time as you both rode out your climaxes together before you slipped from her now extremely sensitive cunt. Her cum still seeping from her hole giving you a sense of pride. You tossed the strap to the side and immediately came to hold the blonde to your chest. It is common that submissive people find it hard to regulate after such intense feelings but the beating of your heart could work to ground her. What you were not expecting was to feel a wetness hitting your bare chest. Her shoulders shaking with sobs but no sound. She was crying.

"Larissa? Darling talk to me what can I do love?" You murmured coming to stroke her hair. Hopefully you were providing some kind of comfort. "I - m sorry for how rude I was at school. I just I didn't want you to fail because you are capable of great things. I was hard on you because I wasn't ready to admit I liked girls. I liked you. I'm so sorry" she sobbed not really taking any breaths in between her words but some how you still caught them all. "Such a silly golden goose, Larissa I knew that. I wasn't ready either darling, I saw you as something I desire but can never have that's why I said those things. I like you too my goose."

The silence that overtook you both was pleasant and comfortable, both just soaking in the words the other said. But you were the first to break it. "Can I take you on a date Risa?" You murmured to the blonde causing her to smile and nod happily, "yes!" You matched her smile and tilted her head to steal a kiss. "Can I tell everyone that the Principal of Nevermore is my very own personal and private submissive little whore?" You teased causing the blonde to smack your arm, "and ruin my reputation? No way mommy!" The sounds of your laughs filling the blondes bedroom as she snuggled impossibly closer to you. "You are so perfect my golden goose" you murmured before a sweet kiss was pressed to her blonde curls. "Sleep my darling girl, you need your rest, I plan to use my pretty pet in a few hours time."

Word count~ 1910