#might try to bring them some snacks

[library-fungus]

a murder of crows came to chill on the complex roof today this is the best thing to happen all month

[beloveds-embrace]

I feel like feral reader has the biggest, saddest eyes known to man when not on a mission, they just want love and pack. It's not their fault they're so feral. They were /made/ to be a weapon, when all they wanted was peace

If feral's an alpha - I can see them hunting down snacks and bringing it to the 141 like "look! I can provide! I can be gentle!" And just watching them eat with those (almost weirdly) big eyes.

If feral's an omega - I can see them hiding away and trying to frantically nest, to give themself somewhere safe. It's not right, there's no pack scent so it just pushes them further into the feral mentality, but (once) if feral swipes some of the packs' items, it does help. It's messy, it's too small, but its a nest, and its theirs and thats all that matters

And omg imagine if feral gets hurt and needs to be hospitalized

The higher ups demand that they be cuffed to the bed, but when the 141 sees feral, they see someone who's just scared. Scared of the hospital and scared of themself. They've been stripped of the muzzle, chains, and scent patches, and look so utterly /weak/. Their scent is distorted from the cruel use of scent blockers, meaning telling their designation from that is impossible.

And then they're so drugged up on pain meds that their walls are lower, and a /lot/ more talkative without their muzzle...

Igh just imagine the sweetest fluffiest angst that hurts so good

(Not a request, just some of my rambles)

👽

do you know that you ate with this ask? because you did. you absolutely did 😩 i loved reading all your thoughts about feral reader, especially the speculation of how they'd act depending on their designation!! the part abt the hospital works so well with what i had planned so i hope you like what i've added to it <33

CW: human trafficking omegaverse masterlist

The hospital room is quiet, sterile, and suffocating.

John clenches his jaw as he steps inside, his sharp eyes scanning every inch of the space. He sees the IV lines, the machines monitoring vitals, the thick, military-grade cuffs securing your wrists to the bed. You look so small like this- nothing like the unrelenting force they fought beside.

Here, right now, you’ve been stripped of everything that made you feral.

No muzzle, no reinforced collar, no scent patches suppressing your pheromones into oblivion. For the first time since you’d been forced into their pack, they could see you. And it guts them.

Because you aren’t some bloodthirsty creature bred for war.

You’re just scared.

Your fingers twitch weakly against the restraints, dull nails scratching uselessly at the cuffs, but there’s no real struggle. No vicious snapping of teeth, no blank, unfeeling stare of a tool awaiting its next order. You barely even react to them entering the room.

Your scent is muddled- soured by years of suppressant use, reduced to something broken and incomplete. It makes it impossible to tell your secondary gender, but it doesn’t matter. Not to them.

The steady drip of the pain meds in your IV dulls everything- your body is sluggish, barely responding, but it also lowers the walls that kept them from truly knowing you.

“… ‘S too quiet,” you mumble, blinking slowly. Your voice is hoarse from disuse, raspy from the damage the muzzle had done to your jaw. It’s the first time any of them have heard you speak so calmly, in a controlled setting that isn't a battlefield, without the muzzle in place.

Johnny is the first to move, dragging a chair close so he can sit beside you. His movements are slow and careful- like approaching a wounded animal.

“Aye, hospitals tend to be,” he says gently. “Bit shite, aren’t they?”

Your lips press together in something that might be the ghost of a frown. “... Hate it.”

The words are so soft. They’re used to you tearing apart enemy soldiers with your bare hands, not murmuring complaints like a child unhappy with their surroundings.

“Yeah, I know,” Gaz murmurs from the other side of the bed. His fingers twitch like he wants to reach for you, but he doesn’t. Not yet. “You, uh… don’t like small spaces, do you?”

Your response is slow, weighted with exhaustion, and your eyes flicker between them yet remain unfocused. “Not the spaces.” A small pause. “The waiting.”

John exhales slowly through his nose, crossing his arms. You were never allowed to wait. You were a tool, a weapon unsheathed only for war. They never let you have quiet. The only time you weren’t fighting was when you were locked away, bound and muzzled like a rabid dog.

It’s sickening.

You shift against the restraints, huffing when they keep you pinned in place. “‘M not gonna run.”

“Yeah, we ken, sweetheart.” Johnny says before he can stop himself. The pet name slips out, but you don’t flinch. If anything, your muscles relax just a little.

Simon, who has been silent in the corner up until now, finally moves. His mask is still in place, but his scent- bitter with restrained frustration- is unmistakable. He steps closer, gloved hands reaching out to carefully unfasten the cuffs.

It’s a risk. The higher-ups demanded you remain restrained, even sedated if necessary. Hell, it was a fight for the doctors to convince them to take off the collar and muzzle.

But Simon doesn’t give a fuck.

You blink sluggishly up at him as he undoes the clasps, rubbing absent circles over the raw skin left behind. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t acknowledge the way your fingers twitch under his touch.

You don’t lash out. You don’t fight. You just watch him with the biggest, saddest eyes he’s ever fucking seen.

Fuck.

“We shouldn’t be here,” you say, words slurring together slightly. “Don’t- don’t need to waste time. ‘M just a weapon.”

Something cracks in John’s chest.

“No, you’re not.” he says firmly.

You blink slowly at him. “… That’s what they said.”

“Well, they don’t know shit.” Gaz snaps, unable to help himself.

Your lips part slightly, as if you hadn’t expected that. As if no one had ever disagreed with that sentiment before.

Johnny leans forward, his voice softer now. “You’re not a weapon, bonnie.” His fingers twitch again before he finally gathers the courage to reach for you, brushing a careful hand over your hair. You don’t flinch. Don’t move away. Your eyes slip shut under the warmth of his touch.

It’s the first time you’ve been touched like this. Not in combat, not in restraint, but with care.

“Jus’ want pack." You mumble, so quiet they almost miss it. And fuck- if that doesn’t make their chests ache.

They knew it wasn’t your fault. They knew you were made into what you are, forced into something unnatural. They’ve seen you- seen the way you watch them, longing written in the lines of your body, in the fleeting glances and hesitant movements that scream of someone who just wants.

And now, stripped of the chains and the regulations that kept you leashed, they see you for what you truly are.

Not a weapon, nor a monster.

Just a broken little thing that was never given a choice.

Johnny keeps petting your hair, Gaz is murmuring quiet reassurances, and Simon hasn’t moved his hand from yours. John steps closer, resting a heavy, grounding palm on your ankle.

“We’ve got you,” John says, voice low and steady. “You’re pack now.”

Your breath hitches slightly. Your walls are too low, your body too exhausted to mask the emotions that flicker across your face.

And for the first time since they met you, you look safe.

(John just wishes the reality you'll face once you are recovered was far, far nicer to you).

Later, Ghost is the only one still awake with you. Johnny dozed off in the chair beside your bed, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted back in an uncomfortable angle that would have left him sore in the morning if it weren't for the scarf Simon bundled in the crook of his neck. Gaz and John left hours ago, forced back to their own quarters under the watchful eyes of command. They’ll be back in the morning.

For now, it’s just you and Simon, the quiet hum of the hospital machines, and the weight of something unspoken between you.

Until you speak up again.

“Y’know,” you murmur, eyes closed, voice rough from disuse. “I wasn’t always like this.”

Simon stills.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t even breathe for a second, like any sudden shift might scare you away from whatever you’re about to say. His hands tighten over his knees, fingers curling into the fabric of his fatigues.

He doesn’t ask you to elaborate. He doesn’t need to. He knows you’ll either continue or shut down completely. He prays it’s the former.

There’s a long silence before you exhale, long and slow, staring up at the ceiling like the words are carved into the sterile white panels above you.

“They took me in the middle of the night,” you say quietly. “Didn’t hear ‘em coming. Should’ve. Should’ve smelled ‘em.” Your lips press together, something dark flickering over your face. “But why would I? I was just... doing something. Near a car, and then- then I got knocked out before I even... knew they were there."

Simon doesn’t ask who. Not when it means interrupting you, not in this fine, delicate moment with its hands grasped around his throat. But he can guess and connect the dots, though; It’s always the same types. People who think they can own things. Who see others as commodities, as something to be bought and sold.

His fists clench.

“Woke up in a cage,” you continue, voice distant, like you’re narrating someone else’s story. “Couldn’t tell how many others were there. Too many. Some crying. Some too scared to move. Some already…” You swallow hard. “Already gone."

Ghost keeps his breathing steady, keeps his hands still even though his body screams to move, to do something. But this isn’t something he can fix. He can’t go back in time, can’t put a bullet in the heads of the men who did this to you. The only thing he can do is listen.

“I remember thinking,” you murmur, lashes heavy, eyes wet. “if I just waited, someone would come.” A bitter, breathless laugh slips past your lips. “Someone always comes. That’s what they all say, right? That someone always comes.”

Simon knows better than anyone that sometimes, no one does. Sometimes, you have to claw your own way out. Sometimes, it would still not save you.

He says nothing, just watches as you shift slightly against the pillows, your fingers twitching restlessly atop the blanket.

“They started selling people off,” you say. “One by one. Didn’t matter if they fought, if they screamed. Just lined them up, packed them into trucks, and that was it.”

A pause. Your eyes fluttered shut, a lone tear rolling down your face.

Then, quieter:

“No one came.”

The silence that follows is heavy. Suffocating. Simon still waits, letting you decide if you want to keep going. You don’t look at him, but your fingers twitch again, this time like you’re reaching for something absent.

“Didn’t matter what I wanted,” you whisper, now more to yourself than to him. “Didn’t matter who I was. I was just a thing to them. Something to be sold. Caged.”

He knows that feeling too well.

He knows what it means to be stripped of personhood, reduced to nothing but flesh to be used and discarded. He knows the rage, the helplessness, the slow descent into something feral and unrecognizable. But unlike you, he had John Price's need to adopting strays to reel him back in. But you-

“What happened?” he finally asks, low and rough as gravel.

Your lips part, and for a moment, he thinks you won’t answer.

“I killed them.”

Simple. Unapologetic. Matter-of-fact.

Ghost doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t react at all. He just waits.

“First one was easy,” you say, exhaustion coloring every letter. “He was the one who opened the cage. Didn’t think I’d fight. Thought I was too weak, too scared. I was scared.” You exhale. “But not enough to let them take me.”

Your fingers curl into the sheets, grip tightening.

“They were so scary.” Your voice is flat, emotionless, but Simon can see the tension in your shoulders, the way your pulse jumps against your throat and reflects on the heart monitor. “Strong. Trained. Bigger than me. Didn’t matter.” A small, humorless smile twitches at your lips. “Didn’t matter how much stronger they were. I fought like a fucking animal.”

Ghost can picture it.

You, starved, exhausted, barely more than skin and bone- tearing through men who thought they were untouchable. Clawing, biting, ripping, killing. Not for sport. Not for pleasure. Just to survive.

It was never a choice; the only other option was death.

“I didn’t stop,” you admit, softer now. “Even when they were all dead, even when there was no one left, I couldn’t stop.” A deep, shuddering breath. “I was stuck like that. Didn’t know how to turn it off. Still don’t.”

The silence stretches long between you, until Simon breaks it; “Not your fault,” he murmurs, waiting for you to look at him with those glassy, painfully big eyes. He shakes his head. “You didn’t have a choice.”

Your throat bobs, something unreadable passing over your face and for a long time, neither of you speak. “You’re the first person I’ve told.” You admit, voice barely above a whisper.

Simon’s fingers twitch. He wants to touch you. Wants to pull you close until he can rub his face and scent all over every crevice of your body. Not to restrain, not to command- just to comfort. But he doesn’t. He can't.

Instead, he just nods, voice soft when he says: “..Get some rest, love. We’ve got you now.”

[harrysfolklore]

can you write something about lando and p since the new video is so cute

OBSESSED WITH THE LANDO AND P CONTENT !!! also i posted a different version of this on patreon if case you want to check it outttt

You're standing in the paddock with Kelly, who's resting her hand on her growing baby bump, while P rummages through her little backpack frantically.

"Careful sweetie, don't mess up all your things," Kelly says softly, but P is too focused on her mission.

"Found them!" P exclaims triumphantly, pulling out a sheet of sparkly racing car stickers. She's been saving them specifically for today, the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, refusing to use them despite having them for weeks.

"When can we see Lando? Is he in his garage? Can we go now?" P asks for what feels like the hundredth time this morning. Max exchanges an amused look with Kelly, who's trying to hide her smile.

"Patience, little one," Max tells her, but P is already at your side, tugging at your hand.

"Please? Can we go see him now? The stickers will bring him extra luck!" Her big eyes look up at you pleadingly, and you can't help but melt at her enthusiasm.

Kelly chuckles, "I think we better go before she explodes from excitement."

When you finally reach the McLaren garage, P spots Lando immediately and runs toward him, "Lando! Lando!"

You see your boyfriend turn around, in his race suit with the top half tied around his waist, his face breaking into that bright smile you love so much. P skids to a stop right in front of him, suddenly shy.

"I… I brought you something," she says, holding out the stickers with both hands. "For luck."

Lando crouches down to her level, looking at the stickers with exaggerated amazement. "These are incredible! Are you sure you want to give them to me?"

P nods enthusiastically. "They're special racing stickers. If you have them, you'll go super fast!"

"Well, thank you very much," Lando says seriously. "This is the best gift ever."

Without warning, P launches herself at him for a hug, wrapping her little arms around his waist. Lando hugs her back, careful not to crush the stickers.

You walk over to join them, but as you try to get in on the hug, P immediately protests, "Nooo! This is my Lando hug! You get him all the time!"

Everyone bursts out laughing, including Kelly who waddles over with Max. "P, sweetheart, sharing is caring," she reminds her daughter gently.

Penelope shakes her head firmly against Lando's waist. "My hug first. She can have him later."

"I see how it is," you tease. "I've got competition from a five-year-old."

Max can't stop grinning. "Better watch out, she's quite the charmer."

Penelope finally releases Lando but stays close to him as she excitedly tells him about how she's going to watch the race with her mom and how she drew a picture of his car in school.

"Promise you'll win?" P asks Lando seriously.

"I'll try my very best, just for you," he responds, carefully placing the stickers in his pocket. "These will definitely help."

Eventually, Kelly announces it's time for P's snack break, and after extracting a promise from Lando that he'll wave to her on the podium, Penelope reluctantly leaves with her parents.

As soon as they're gone, Lando wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. "Finally got my turn for a hug," he murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours.

You loop your arms around his neck, smiling. "I don't know, those were some pretty serious heart eyes she was giving you. Should I be worried?"

Lando laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. "Definitely not. Though I have to admit, the stickers might be the sweetest gift I've ever gotten."

"Sweeter than when I got you that gaming setup for your birthday?" you tease, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Hmm, tough competition," he grins, leaning in for another kiss. This one lasts longer, soft and sweet, until you hear wolf whistles from the McLaren mechanics nearby.

Lando pulls back slightly, rolling his eyes but smiling. "I should probably get back to work."

"Probably," you agree, but neither of you moves. "Good luck out there today. P's not the only one who wants to see you win."

"Well, with lucky stickers AND my girlfriend's support, how can I lose?" he says with a wink, giving you one last quick kiss before reluctantly stepping back.

[5sospenguinqueen]

The Wrong Bull | Mark Webber x Interviewer! Reader

Summary: Mark was enjoying a private relationship with his favourite F1 interviewer. Until the internet started shipping you with his biggest rival

Warnings: Malaysia 2013. A lot of fabrication ie made up insta names. Swearing. Suggestive content. Indulgent blurb because who doesn’t like the idea of needy/possessive Mark. 

Requested: No

F1 Masterlist

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its_yn just posted

liked by markwebber, f1 and others

its_yn happy malaysia grand prix weekend! i’m very happy to be in the paddock this weekend bringing you the insight on how our eleven teams are doing

6,622 comments

danielricciardo can’t wait to see you. always bring me the most interesting questions

→ its_yn and you always bring me the most random answers

user1 my fave interviewer. i love the way she lovingly bullies the drivers. they’re always so engaging with her

jensonbutton now that’s a handsome man

→ its_yn thank you, i try 

→ danielricciardo but i’m the one with random answers?

user2 i’m so happy you’re in the paddock. you have the best rapport with the drivers and always have the best interviews with them

skysportsf1 when all the drivers beg for you to be there, we can’t say no

→ its_yn aw, you guys. i knew you loved me really

→ sebastianvettel of course. the prettiest interviewer we have

→ user3 oh, well then, get in there vettel

→ user4 sebastian making his move

user5 vettel winning on and off the track

user6 no way he bagged the hot sky sports presenter

user7 okay but the way she was smiling at him

→ user8 and the way he looked at her? talk about heart eyes

user9 if they need a third or a dog, i can bark

user10 ngl i thought jenson button was going to win her over

user11 okay, let’s chill a second guys. they just entered the paddock together

→ user12 we might be seeing the beginning of their relationship! how can any of us be calm. used to pray for times like these 

→ user13 yes but we don’t want to scare them off before we get confirmation

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Back resting against the wall of Mark's driver room, legs curled beneath you, you flipped through your notebooks. Going through your notes, you occasionally jotted something down, deeming it worthy of potentially mentioning during any interviews later. The sound of the lock turning had your head snapping up in time to see Mark's tall stature fill the doorframe. His eyes landed on you instantly, and he wriggled through the small gap he had created, blocking you from view of whoever was on the other side. A few short sentences later, Mark had managed to provide an adequate excuse to be alone. The door shut with a quiet click and Mark assured you it was locked.

"What are you doing here?" Mark questioned, the soft smile on his face assuring he wasn't opposed to the sight of you in his room. "Shouldn't you be out bothering more important people?"

"More important than you?" You shot back. "I've been put in charge of the post-race interviews today so I've got a bit of a break."

Mark took note of your jacket hanging on the back of his door, and your shoes at the foot of his massage table. His things surrounded by your things. And he was warmed by how comfortable you were here. In an endeavour to find some peace admit the chaos of the paddock, you took refuge in his room. The notion stoked the little fire of possessiveness within him.

"So, you're just going to hide out here until the race?"

Your pile of snacks, the circle of papers around you, and his jumper hanging from your frame told him all he needed to know. He just wanted - no, needed - to hear you say it. Especially after he'd overheard some of the drivers teasing Vettel during the Parade. About you, and the internet's speculations. And how if the German ended up on the podium, then how could the "pretty interviewer" say no to a date. So, regardless of the fact that it was his name and number splashed across your body, he still needed to hear you say it. To confirm that you were his and his alone.

"Until I'm needed, then yes," you smiled, watching as he slowly approached.

The white fireproof clinging to his muscular arms flexed as he placed them on either side of you. His race suit was wrapped around his waist precariously, looking ready to fall apart with a slight tug.

He angled his head down towards you, cheeks dimpling when he grinned. "And if I say you're needed right now?"

Your arms looped around his neck, pulling him down to close the small gap he had left between you. "What exactly am I needed for, Mr Webber?"

His eyes darted down to your mouth, watching as your tongue darted out to wet your lips. Before you could register that he'd moved, his mouth was on yours, moving against you and swallowing your surprised squeak. His arms wound themselves around your midsection, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body pressed into you instantly, and you melted into his touch.

Sliding your hands into his hair, you tugged at the short strands so as to pull him off you in order to catch your breath. As he didn't need oxygen more than he needed you, Mark's lips continued moving. His lips moved across your jaw, under your ear and down to the fluttering pulse in your neck, leaving a fiery path as he moved. A whimper was pulled from you when he sucked gently, your back arching into him. Paper crinkled beneath you when he lowered you onto the bed.

"Mark," you moaned, "you don't have time."

"Shh," he whispered against your skin, crawling atop you, trapping you between his body and the massage table. It gave a groan of protest but he paid it no mind.

Not when your hands slid under his fireproofs, stroking the heated skin of his abdomen before trailing lower. With one pull, the knot of his race gave way, removing the cushioning that had prevented his hard length from pressing into you. A throaty groan escaped him when you rolled your hips against him.

Mark chuckled at your sudden eagerness. "What happened to not having enough time?"

"You shouldn't be so tempting."

Knowing that you craved him as much as he did you had Mark reconnecting your lips, moving with more fervour. Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slide against yours. His hips jerked against you when you pulled his bottom lip into your mouth, sucking gently. Mark's hands slid down your hips, reaching around to palm your ass and pull you flush against him. The throbbing in his underwear intensified.

Two sharp raps on the door made your eyes snap open, fear flitting across your face when the door handle rattled. Mark pressed closer to you once more; not in lust but worry that someone would see you in the dishevelled state he had created. That was a sight for his eyes only.

Another knock came before a deep voice called out for the driver. "Christian wants to see you for a pre-race chat."

"What, now?"

"Yeah."

Mark groaned before looking down at you. Lipstick smeared, cheeks flushed and blotches darkening on your neck. He wasn't sure he could go outside. The image of you like this would stay with him, making him strain against the fabric of his suit.

"Go, my love," you whispered, tying his suit back around his waist, ensuring the arms carefully concealed the problem you had created. "And try not to collide with your teammate."

Well, the mention of his biggest rival this year was one way to soften him.

"You'll still be here when I get back? Before I jump in the car?" He pleaded.

He knew the answer. Of course he did. The routine had been the same for the past two years but, as before, he needed the verbal reassurance.

"And why would I do that?" You teased, snickering when the 6'1 man in front of you started to pout.

"Because how else would I get my pre-race kiss?"

"You could always ask Vettel."

The look on Mark's face turned from faux sadness to something much darker. You yelped when his teeth sunk into your neck before he pressed a soothing kiss on the mark he'd left (yes, I laughed at that). Shooting you a wink, he dashed out the door, and you were left alone once more.

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user1 seb really turned on the charm with this one

→ user2 he got away with defying team orders, won the race, and decided to win the girl 

user3 they would make such a cute couple though

user4 idk how yn managed to keep her calm, interviewer face on because if 3x wdc winner sebastian vettel spoke to me like that, i’d be giggling and twirling my hair fr

user5 okay i wasn’t a fan of the sebastian/yn train earlier but this interview may have convinced me 

user6 i love how she’s trying to stay unbiased but you can see that she’s impressed with vettel’s racing today 

→ user7 i actually thought she was a bit short with him for a change

→ user8 no i agree. her energy felt off. usually she laughs when they’re flirting

user9 did anyone else see webber watching them in the background?

→ user10 vettel needs to sleep with one eye open

user11 everyone talking about sebyn but i swear she kept looking behind him at mark

→ user12 mark defo smiled at her when they made eye contact 

→ user13 bfr, she’s clearly into seb here 

f1 just posted

liked by its_yn, redbullracing and others

f1 and it’s a 1-2 for red bull! oh, sorry, was that meant to say 2-1? 

9,222 comments

redbullracing that’s our bulls

→ user1 i didn’t realise we celebrated defying team orders

→ user2 oh please. sebastian was faster. mark needs to just accept that 

its_yn well done, team red bull

→ user3 it’s okay, sis. you can say well done to the love of your life for winning 

→ user4 vettel getting a celebration better than a champagne shower later 

user5 f1 is foul for this lmao 

→ user6 love how they used the pics where mark looks the most pissed off

sebastianvettel very good race. well done, team 

→ user7 he sounds so polite like he’s not a certified track terror 

user8 i’m in love with admin today. they knew what they were doing with this caption 

jensonbutton has anyone heard from mark since the podium?

→ fernandoalonso he’s yapping my ear off until all the conferences are done

user9 poor mark. he looked ready to throttle seb when they were doing interviews

→ user10 omg was that the one where seb was flirting with yn??

→ user9 yes! webber was stood behind him looking murderous. so hot 

user11 not to be one of those but i saw yn comforting mark after the race

→ user12 before or after her flirty interview with seb? 

→ user13 not fans trying to push yn and webber based on their 3 interactions when all this seb and yn content is right there

user1 sorry but no one can convince me that she didn’t just have a celebration romp with vettel

→ user2 yes! got to celebrate his win properly haha

→ user3 when he asked if she had plans later knowing she’d end up in his driver’s room

user4 dishevelled clothes, messy hair and her red lipstick from the morning gone? did someone say driver’s room sex

user5 she really does look like she got dicked down good 

user6 it’s the fact that almost everyone from the garage has left and she still got caught, bless her

user7 no because imagine angry sex with mark webber after that race

→ user8 oof, i never saw mark that way before but his face on that podium has me feeling some kind of way 

→ user9 i love how everyone is thinking of seb and your magnificent brain thought of mark

→ user7 i’m just saying, if i had to pick between the blonde twink or the angry, tall aussie, i know who i’m going with 

user10 okay but imagine it was mark’s room she snuck out from. seb stole his win so mark stole his crush 

→ user11 revenge, hate sex 

user12 did anyone else see the two marks on her neck during the interviews earlier though? i don't think post-race was the first taste miss thing got today

user13 damn, i always thought vettel would be good but he looks like he did a number on her 

markwebber just posted

liked by redbullracing, danielricciardo and others

markwebber please can you stop "shipping" her with the wrong bull. she’s mine

7,012 comments

its_yn and has happily been yours for two wonderful years

→ user1 they’ve been together for two years?!

→ user2 excuse me, two years and they kept it from everyone?! 

fernandoalonso does this mean i lose elite status as the only one who knows?

→ jensonbutton you knew! 

→ lewishamilton of course he knew. although i feel a little blindsided 

user3 no because i was fighting in the trenches for mark and yn whilst y’all were pushing the sebyn agenda

user4 who taught him to take the most romantic photos ever

→ markwebber yn did

→ its_yn i trained him good, ladies, so back off

redbullracing members of the garage have asked that you keep any noise in the driver’s room to a minimum. please and thanks

→ user5 so she did get her back blown out after the race by angry mark

→ user6 living my dream

→ its_yn i see you. he’s not for you anymore

jensonbutton genuinely did not see this coming. ngl, i was convinced yn was with seb

→ redbullracing so did we. we got sucked into all the twitter theories. they made a convincing case

→ its_yn @/redbullracing we had to disclose our relationship to you?

→ redbullracing i know. that’s how convincing they were

→ markwebber @/christianhorner how do i file a complaint about admin

user7 the height difference between them 🥰

→ user8 the height difference between them 🥵

danielricciardo well, there go my chances 

→ markwebber you’re too young for her, mate

→ danielricciardo yes but clearly she has a thing for aussies

→ its_yn just the one ;)

user9 no wonder he was angry. seb stole his win and then poor mark had to watch him flirt with his girl

→ user10 and watch as the entire internet shipped his girlfriend of two years with that win-stealing man 

sebastianvettel oh

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

requests are open. i promise your requests are on the way. i'm just slow haha

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25

[tbaluver]

S/O With Depression- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader, Caleb x Reader requested by: anonnie ⋆˚꩜｡ genre: comfort a/n: hihi lovelies! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i would like to mention that everyone has different types of depression and goes through different things! i wrote the ones i’m familar with and what the anonnie requested! what might be common for me or from the anonnie that requested can be completely different to someone else! if you want to see more then i’ll write a part 2! hopefully this brings some comfort to those that need it enjoy reading! <3 any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Will do his best to be a light and source of comfort for you

Xavier would stay close when getting out of bed feels impossible. But if you needed space, he’d respect that, keeping you company from a small distance in bed to remind you that you’re not completely alone. He wouldn’t let you stay curled up in bed for too long. He’d gently carry you to the kitchen to make sure you’re fed.

On days when your words don’t come easily and your thoughts feel jumbled, he never interrupts or rushes you. He stays quiet, a hand on top of yours, nodding along while letting you speak at your own pace even if your sentences come out jumbled. Occasionally, he might ask a question to understand the context. When you do finish what you’ve needed to say, he’ll work through it together with you

If you were taking any medications, he’ll go through the entire packet and read through any information about it online. He’ll remember all the side effects that come with it and checks up on you whenever you take them

When every little sound starts to feel like it was too much, he draws the curtains and does everything he can to make it more peaceful. He moves carefully, no sudden sounds will be made in this household. Even the way he eats or shifts in his seat would become more gentler. If you were comfortable with it, Xavier would gather you into his arms, holding you close against his chest. His hand rest gently over your ear, blocking out whatever noise is left.

Xavier would offer to listen and be the place where you can let it out. But if it’s an unexplainable feeling that you just can’t put into words then he’ll find a different way to cheer you up. He’ll settle beside you, pulling up your favorite comfort shows and have your snacks ready

Zayne:

Whenever getting out of bed feels like too much, he’ll leave a warm cup of tea and a few slices of fruit or your favorite snacks by the bedside table. He never rushes you so he waits. Sometimes he’ll sit nearby so you don’t feel alone. Other times, he gives you the space you want, trusting that you’ll reach out when you’re ready. But when it starts to feel like too much and the silence grows too heavy, he will step in. Never forcefully. He’ll encourage you to start off slow, a hand on yours. Maybe something as simple as sitting up or maybe just brushing your teeth.

Anytime you went through a depressive episode, Zayne has no problem doing the extra housework or helping you with your physical health. He’ll help you shower, brush through your hair gently, and help brush your teeth. He’ll praise you for each small step you take

The type to send you reminders to take your meds at the right time and that you should eat something before you take them so you don’t get nauseous.

Zayne would understand and has never taken it personally when you don’t want to be touched. He doesn’t try to hug or reach for your hand. Instead, he makes space for you until you you’re comfortable once again

He can tell when you get sad randomly. Zayne would never force you to explain but he will always remind you if you want to talk, he’s there. Sometimes when it’s just a quiet ache sitting in you for no reason, he’ll also understand that. He’ll suggest a walk out for fresh air or just for a different scenery if you’ve been inside for too long.

When the smallest sounds can feel too much, he’ll make sure to move extra quietly. He’ll offer noise cancelling headphones to drown out any sounds. Any open windows will be closed and he’ll draw the curtains to keep the noise out. He’ll make sure to close any of the doors inside softly, silence his phone and pager and he’ll make sure to give you the space you need.

Sometimes the words just don’t come out right but Zayne would never rush you. He would always be patient, even when your voice shakes or when you pause for too long. And when you do finally get them out, no matter how jumbled or messy it sounds, he listens. Every single word and every detail. Once you said all you needed to say, that’s when he speaks and helps

Reminds you that he is always there for you. Even if he was busy at work and you know he can’t reach you right now, you can still message him. He reminds you to never hesitate to reach out, spam him, leave him voice messages. He’ll read through every word and detail and he’ll find time to immediately reach out to you

Rafayel:

You would never feel alone if Rafayel was by your side. Even if he was away from an art exhibition, he would text you throughout the day. If you need him by your side, then he’s finding an excuse to get out of work and find his way to you.

When you’re having a hard time getting out of bed, Rafayel would be by your side under the covers so you don’t feel alone. However if you continue to have a hard time, he doesn’t hesitate to step in. He’ll scoop you up in his arms, carrying you to the bathroom. He’ll start with something simple, like a warm bath since it can maybe cheer you up.

When every noise seems to bother you, he’ll make sure to move around quietly in the studio. He’ll close up the windows and doors so his seagull friends won’t bother you. He’ll even breathe more quietly so he doesn’t bother you. Rafayel would still stay nearby but gives you your space to make sure you’re not alone. He’ll wait until you’re ready to talk with him

Rafayel would never take it personally when you did not want to be touched but he definitely does get a little pouty about it behind your back. He just misses holding onto you but he understands and gives you the space you need.

Feeling sad randomly? Rafayel would never push you to explain what’s wrong but he encourages you that it’s good to let it out and that he’s always there for you. However, if it was unexplainable, he doesn’t make you feel weird about it. He’ll find ways to cheer you up as best as he can. He’ll pull up videos on his phone and you silly videos he found that might make you smile. He’ll even suggest a quiet walk by the beach just for a change of scenery and for some fresh air

Sometimes the right words just won’t come. They get lost somewhere between your thoughts but Rafayel has never once looked at you confused or has never been impatient. He watches you carefully, trying to understand your expression. Sometimes he finishes the sentences for you, not to interrupt but because he’s piecing it together with you. And if you grow frustrated, he offers to sketch it out with you.

Sylus:

On days when getting out of bed feels impossible, he stays beside you but he doesn’t let you stay there for too long. He understands the weight of it all but he will step in. First he’ll start with encouragement, asking you to sit up just for a bit. But if your limbs feel too heavy and your body refuses to move, he never gets frustrated. He’ll carry you in his arms. He’ll run you a warm bath and help bathe you. Later he’ll encourage you to do some small activities with him to get you a little motivated

He would never take it personally if you were not in the mood to be touched. There’s no wounded ego or disappointment. He gives you the space that you need until you are ready to curl up next to him again. He’ll make sure you were absolutely comfortable with it before he reaches back

Sylus would always give you the choice to talk or cry or let it out to him in whatever way you need. But if it’s those days where it’s just unexplainable, he doesn’t press on. Instead, he’ll offer distractions. He’ll pull out a new vinyl that he’s been saving for or maybe stepping out to a new scenery to get rid of whatever ache you have in your chest

When the world feels too loud and your thoughts won’t slow down, no matter how hard you try to explain to Sylus through hiccupped sobs, he doesn’t ask you to make sense of it. Instead, he pulls you into his arms. He doesn’t say much at first, his hand moves slowly up and down your back. He doesn’t need you to have the right words. He’ll listen, hiccupped sobs or not, to every detail you have to say. When your sobs begin to slow, when you start to breathe a little easier, he’s still there, helping you sort through the weight you've been carrying. It doesn’t matter if the problem is big or small. He’ll work them out with you together.

Luckily your shared bedroom is at the top floor to avoid any noises from the city. However if any noise continues to bother you, Sylus wouldn’t ask what’s wrong, he’ll just move around quietly as best as he can. He’ll stop playing any music on his record player unless you don’t want him too. He’ll make sure Luke and Kieran are not in the same building and he’ll make sure to mute Mephisto

Caleb:

Having a hard time getting out of bed? Caleb would give you the space you need, leaving you your favorite snacks and water by the bedside table with a cute little note and a doodle for you. He’ll check in on you often to see if you’ve eaten or just by ‘passing’ by the room. However if it does stretch on, he’ll kneel beside the bed and offer his hand, suggesting a few easy stretches. He’ll encourage just a small stretch for your arms and then legs next and then a small little walk to the kitchen where he has a little meal waiting in the kitchen just for you

As much as Caleb loves to hold you and have you in his arms, he would never be offended if you did not want to be touched. He would never hover and never pressure you. He gives you all the space and time you need when you’re comfortable again

Feeling sad out of nowhere? He would be SO worried, it would be written all over his face. His first instinct is to check in, offering to let you vent out if you need to. He’s always been a good listener. If it just feels unexplainable and you can’t quite name the reason, then he’ll find ways to cheer you up. Caleb would curl up with you and pull up your favorite comfort shows or movies. Or he’ll bring you your favorite snack or make your favorite dish that you love. And of course, he offers his signature big bear hug.

If any sounds were bothering you, he’d make sure to not make a single sound in the house. No loud footsteps in the halls, no clinking dishes, you name it. He’d even go as far as making sure no plane flies in the direction over your home to make sure you get the peace you need.

Sometimes you can’t get the right words to come out and Caleb would be patient with you the entire time. He lets you speak and lets you take all the time you need to get it out. His hand rests on yours, his thumb traces slow, soothing circles over your knuckles as he reads your expressions carefully. If any tears come out from frustration, he cups your face with so much care and wipes away any stray tears.

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ 𝘕𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯:

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! The Love And DeepSpace Masterlist, Pg. 2

ʚɞ Others:

Wattpad ( still updating it rn )

twitter @/ tbaluverr but idk how to use twitter </3

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 33: Ghosts of the Past

Summary: It can't be a coincidence anymore.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 5,411 words

Warnings: ANGST, emotional turmoil, panic and panic attacks, anxiety, drugs used for drugging, very brief mention of predatory behavior, author can't write call of duty missions for shit, withholding the truth, hints at betrayal, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, very much leaning into that AU now, brief mention of guns and bullets

A/N: Ummm...yeah. You'll see. Bit shorter than normal but my obsessive need for cliffhangers prevents me from shoving it all into one chapter.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

Her head is spinning. There’s a steady throbbing behind her eyes, her blood pumping in her ears. Her shoulder aches from the cold tile floor under her. She can’t quite bring herself to move yet, the deep ache in her bones still lingering. She pushes through the haze in her mind, trying to bring up the memories of what happened. 

Someone had entered her office. She hadn’t even had time to turn around when she was hit from behind. That explains the throbbing in the back of her head. Likely concussed, though it hadn’t been a hard hit. Not hard enough to do serious damage, not even hard enough to make her see stars. Just enough to incapacitate her so she couldn’t fight back. There had been a sting of a needle in her neck. Whatever it was, it was fast acting, maybe a minute before she lost consciousness. 

Ketamine...maybe fentanyl. 

She pushes herself up to sit, blinking back the dizziness and the nausea. Whoever attacked her wanted her out of the way, incapacitated for long enough to do something. 

A horrifying thought flashes through her mind as she comes back to reality. She’s one of the few on base that knows you’re completely alone. She’s likely the only one who would care if you went missing. She tries to keep herself calm, tries to slow her breathing as she feels her pockets, pulling herself up onto her knees, gripping the side of her desk as she fights the nausea and pounding in her head that nearly blinds her. 

Her phone is gone. 

Her legs shake as she forces them under her, pulling herself up. She needs to get to the barracks, needs to check on you. She stumbles to the door, pushing it open as she tries to keep her breathing under control. You’re smart. You’re going to hide, or run, from any threat. You’ve learned your lesson from the last time. You won’t go easily again. 

The walk to the barracks feels like it takes forever as she half stumbles her way across the base, fighting the wind still whipping through the open areas between the buildings. Her head is throbbing, the haze of the drug still lingering. It’s the terror in her mind, the horrible thoughts of what might have happened keeping her moving forward. She only gets glances as she crosses to the 141’s barracks. None of them even think to ask her if she’s alright. 

There’s no help from the others. 

She pushes open the door to the barracks, blinking through the burning of the bright fluorescents. She feels for you, having to exist in such a bright, clinical space. 

Dread begins to fill her as she reaches your door, finding it open. The door jam is broken, the wood around the lock splintered. Your dresser had been pushed behind the door, but it hadn’t stopped whoever wanted to get in. The window is open, and she can only hope you crawled your way through to safety. She steps up to your desk, books and snacks in disarray, some having fallen to the floor. She swallows thickly as she stares down at the wood, her fingers shaking. 

Her phone is sitting on the desk. 

She picks it up, the screen flashing on. There’s a missed call from you. Whoever had broken in must have made it look like she was the one responsible. She goes through her contacts, finding your number before calling. She doesn’t have hope that you’ll answer, but she has to try for her own sanity. 

The phone doesn’t even ring before it goes to voicemail. 

She steps out of your door, going through every room she can in the barracks, shouting your name. She doesn't have hope, except maybe that you doubled back and barricaded yourself somewhere. It’s not likely you would answer to her anyway, if you thought she was the one behind all of this. 

She heads outside, trying to catch any lingering hint of your scent, but the wind has dispersed it completely. There’s soldiers milling around, likely on their afternoon breaks. She doesn't hesitate as she approaches them, asking every soldier she sees in the area if they’ve seen you. 

“I saw her.” One finally says. Allen, his patch reads. “Running towards the trees.” 

“Was anyone following her?” She asks. 

He shrugs. “Dunno. Didn’t stay long enough to see.” 

She feels the urge to punch him, to yell at him for not helping, but she knows they have strict orders to keep away from you. They might have not known any better, or wanted to risk a reprimanding if they disobeyed orders. 

She continues to take deep breaths as she glances towards the trees. It won’t do her much good to try to go looking by herself. You wouldn’t have followed the trail. You’re too smart for that. She’d need a whole army to search the base for you. 

Her hands shake as she searches through her contacts. She’s not expecting an answer. She’s probably busy with the 141 away on a mission. No one will know. No one will know until it’s too late. She’s not sure what to do. Would the commanders on base believe her? Would they organize a search based on her word alone? By then it might be too late. It might be too late now. 

“Laswell.” 

“Kate, Kate I can’t find her.” She gasps out, spinning around in the middle of the road, as if you might come popping out of thin air, or creeping out from behind a building. She’s panicking, speaking the words aloud feeling like an absolute truth, as if she’s speaking it into existence. 

“Who?” Kate asks, sounding confused. 

She chokes out your name, her hand pressed to her chest to try and calm the panic quickly rising in her. “She’s gone.” 

Kate takes a deep breath to keep her head clear and calm. It’s far too much of a coincidence to deny it now. The cameras, the sudden deployment, the call from Shepherd for the whole team, the discovery of the files. 

Now this. 

“Kate?” 

She’s never heard Christine so emotional, so uncomposed before. “I’m here.” She says, composing herself. One of them needs to be clear-headed and logical. “I’m going to contact command, alert base security. You look everywhere you think she might possibly be.”

“Yeah, okay.” Christine lets out a breath. “I can do that.” 

“I’ll call back as soon as I can.” She says. “If you find anything, I need to know immediately.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Kate knows she’s trying to calm herself, get her head on straight again. “Christine? We’ll find her. No matter what it takes.” 

“You don’t....you don’t think she’s...” She can’t manage to finish the sentence. 

“No.” Kate says, not even having to ask what she means. It’s not a lie, though. If the conspiracy that’s been brewing in her head is true, you’re more valuable to them alive. “If what I think is happening is actually happening, she has to be alive. She’s no use to anyone dead.” She says, speaking the thoughts aloud for the first time since the delivery of the cameras into her hands. 

“I hope you’re right.” 

Kate holds her phone in her hand, taking a breath. She’s not sure how it happened, how you managed to disappear out from under Christine’s watchful eye. Something must have happened that separated the two of you long enough for you to disappear. Christine wouldn’t just leave you like that unless it was something important, or if she sensed something wrong, something that might put you at risk. You wouldn’t have left the barracks on your own, not unless something forced the two of you apart. 

She should call them, make them aware. 

She can’t bring herself to. Not yet. She can’t distract them. The job comes first. She’s always hated those words in the context of the initiative. Why would they put an omega through this? What was the real reason? The idea of the initiative always left a bad taste in her mouth when she thought about it too much. She’ll know soon. She’ll get her answers as soon as her team finishes combing through those files. 

She won’t call them until they know for sure. Not until they’re positive, not until there’s proof. They’re not in a place they could easily leave, either.

Sometimes the greater good has to come first. 

Her hands are shaking as she dials the number for the base commander. They have an omega to find. 

Christine’s heart is pounding as she races around the base, checking everywhere she can think of. She’d gotten looks as she combed through the mess, wide eyed and nearly shaking with fear. Her scent must have been projecting, all the control she’d mastered slipping away. She’s never felt panic like this before, not even in the toughest situations with omegas. This is different though. You’re her only patient. She had been tasked with keeping watch over you, they had trusted her enough to take care of you in their absence again, even after everything had happened. 

Your mental state scared her. Seeing you like that wasn’t a surprise after everything you’ve gone through these last few weeks, but that doesn’t stop the worry, the concern as your doctor. Sure, whoever took you, if they took you, might want you alive...but can your mind keep itself alive for that long? 

She asks everyone she can in the mess, the kitchen staff and everyone sitting near the doors if they’ve seen you. 

No one. Not a single soul saw you. It was unlikely you’d run to the mess, but that would have been the logical move. Run where there’s a crowd, though if you thought they wouldn’t help you, you might have avoided it. 

She checks the med center next, combing every inch of it she can. She’s not sure you would have risked running there if you thought she was behind it. Did you see your assailant’s face? You must have, if they drugged you too. You wouldn’t go quietly, so they would have had to reveal themselves to you. 

You know it’s not her behind it. 

She tells herself that to make herself feel better. 

Would you think she was, even if evidence pointed to it? Would you think she would betray you like that? They would have taught you not to trust anyone, but why now? Why would she strike now when she’s been with you in your weakest moments over the last two weeks? There were plenty of times she could have done something, yet she hadn’t. She wouldn’t have. There was no amount of money in this world that would have convinced her to turn against you, betray you and your pack. 

She had been willing to fight tooth and nail to avoid sending those files to Shepherd if John hadn’t told her to do it. He trusted her. 

That trust will be broken now. 

She left you alone, and now you’re gone. 

Or dead. 

There would be no escaping their retribution. They’d hunt her down to the ends of the earth. Alex would never forgive her. Hell, he’d probably join them. 

She checks the gym, even though she doubts you’d run there of all places. She combs every corner she can, getting one of the soldiers to unlock the training rooms just in case, even though it was illogical to think you’d be able to get in with them locked. She can’t be too careful, though. Maybe they taught you how to pick locks. 

She even checks the pool, looking at every inch just to be sure. 

She’s not sure if it’s a relief she can’t find you compared to the alternative, or if it’s almost worse. At least if she found a body there would be closure. The panic could ease for a moment and she’d know. She’d be sure. 

She runs through the barracks once more, combing through every closet and toilet stall, but as expected there’s nothing there. Just your forced open door and the open window. Whatever happened, you did what you were supposed to. You called her and you ran. You learned your lesson, the lessons they’ve all taught you. You did your best, and that is enough, even if her darkest thoughts are true. 

You must have run for the trees. It’s the most logical place to run. There’s plenty of places to hide, lots of space to run and double back on your trail, to confuse whoever was following you until they gave up. 

Would they give up? Or was their motivations strong enough to keep them prowling, hunting every inch of the forest to look for you. 

What if they’re still out there looking for you? What if you’re still out there, afraid and alone. 

She hadn’t seen your phone in your room. She prays you grabbed it before you left. Maybe you’re out there trying to call Kate, trying to call anyone who might be able to help. She wishes you’d call her, but why would you if you think she’s still behind it? 

Whoever did this planned this out perfectly. 

It’s all premeditated. All of it. 

What if you’re out there distressing? 

She feels like vomiting, her stomach churning uncomfortably. You were already so worked up about your pack being gone, something like this might have sent you right over the edge. She curls her hands into fists, trying to stop them from shaking. She doesn’t know what to do. 

For the first time in a long time she doesn’t have a solution to a problem. 

She leans against the wall outside the barracks, taking deep breaths. She’s no good to anyone if she’s panicking. You need help. You’ll need her if they find you. She’ll be the only one that will be able to help you. She’s not even sure your pack knows yet. Could Kate tell them? It’s been weeks and there’s been no word. Kate hadn’t been able to give her anything as expected, only that she’d pass the word along once they had a moment. 

Had she been lying, or had they truly been off the grid completely? Has this deployment really been that serious? They had called in the whole pack. Or had that been premeditated too. Get you alone and wait for the perfect moment. It can’t be coincidence that they waited until you were distressed enough being separated from your pack for so long. 

None of it is a coincidence. 

Would Kate tell them this happened? Would she risk it now that your life is in danger?

Or is Kate in on this too? 

She shakes the thought from her head. She knows Kate. Kate had picked her specifically for this job. She spent weeks with Kate interviewing and being debriefed for this position. Kate wouldn’t do something like this, not with how close she is to John and the pack. They trust her and she knows them enough to pick an omega that fits in seamlessly with them. She wouldn’t betray them and you like this. 

Something is going on behind the scenes. Something has happened to cause all of this. It’s all related. It has to be. It’s all too convenient, all too orchestrated. It has to revolve around the cameras. There’s no other thing she can think of that might cause this series of events. 

Unless it goes even deeper than that. 

“Dr. Keller?” She looks up when she hears her name. 

“Yes?” She says, pushing herself to stand up straight as an officer approaches.  

“Lieutenant Colonel Woods, Base Commander.” The officer holds out his hand. 

She shakes it, her palms sweaty but he doesn’t seem to care. 

“We’re rounding up everyone who is still on base.” He says. It’s the weekend. A lot of them will have left. All the more easy to sneak you away. “We’ll search through every building and send out parties to comb through the forest.” 

She nods, taking a deep breath. “Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel. I’ve checked everywhere I can think of. There’s no sign of her.”

“If she’s still on base, we’ll find her.” He says, far more confident than she feels. 

If you’re still on base. The words make her want to vomit. 

“The front gate guards are compiling a list of everyone who has come on base and left base within the last two hours.” He continues. “If someone took her, we’ll know.” 

“I’m worried about her.” She says, the only thing that’s coming to her mind. It’s true. She’s never been quite so invested in the wellbeing of a patient as she has you, but then again, she’s never been this involved in the life of a patient before. “A lot of things could go wrong quickly.” 

“We’ve got a lot of boots on the ground out there looking.” He says. He’s trying to be comforting. She knows this, but that stiff military mindset keeps it from sounding more than cordial and practiced. What if they’re all in on it? “We’ll find her, or we’ll get answers to what happened.” 

The wait is the worst part. She’s going crazy, waiting for any word. Anything that might hint at what’s happening. There’s been nothing yet, no sign of you, but it’s hardly been twenty minutes. She can’t stop the spiraling thoughts. She can’t take her own advice, apply her own knowledge and teachings. Not right now. Not while she’s bordering on a crisis. She needs to find you. She needs to know you’re alright. 

Don’t let them find a body. 

She’ll never live with herself. She left you alone. She let this happen. She was supposed to be watching you, taking care of you, and now you’re gone under her watch. 

They’ll never trust her again. 

Her phone ringing nearly has her jumping out of her skin. She fumbles for it in her pocket, her fingers trembling. Please let it be you. She lets out a breath of disappointment before answering. 

“Kate?” Her voice shakes. 

“Any news?” Kate asks. She sounds disheveled herself. 

“Nothing.” She swallows thickly. “They’re still looking.” 

Kate sighs. “I don’t think she’s on base.” 

Hearing it nearly makes her legs give out. She’s known that’s likely the case since she called Kate the first time, but hearing it out loud solidifies that as a fact. She’s been keeping a fool’s hope that you managed to hide somewhere, that you got somewhere safe, even if she knows better. 

“This goes a lot deeper than we all thought. It was never about the cameras or the initiative.” Kate continues. 

“The reports, the prying.” She says. “It wasn’t about tracking progress for the sake of progress.” 

“No, it wasn’t.” 

“Sir.” A soldier approaches, saluting the Lieutenant Colonel. 

“We might have some news.” She says, putting her phone on speaker. She hopes it’s true. If they can get a name, then they’ll have an easier time finding you. 

“At ease.” Woods says. 

“We have the list of everyone who left base in the last two hours.” He says, handing over a tablet. “There’s only one.” 

“Colonel McKinney.” Woods says. 

“He left in his personal vehicle 50 minutes ago.” The guard says. 

“Give me every detail you can on that car.” Kate says. 

“It’s a blue Ford Fiesta, registration plate Papa Juliet 64, Hotel Tango November.” Woods says.

“I’ll get eyes on that car.” Kate says. 

“I’ll alert local police.” Woods says. 

“We will find her.” Kate says, and Christine knows she’s trying to reassure her. 

“Do they know?” She asks. 

“Not yet.” Kate says. “They’re not in a place where they can do anything about it, and the last thing they need is to get distracted.” 

“They're not going to like being kept in the dark on this for so long.” She says. 

“I know. But it’s for their own safety above all else.” 

And the greater good of the world, Christine knows, even if Kate doesn’t say it out loud. It’s always for the greater good. That’s why the job comes first, even if it’s at your detriment. She feels like screaming, like throwing her phone. 

It’s not fair. 

Her hands are still shaking as she ends the call with Kate, not feeling any more comforted than she had before. It’s possible Corporal McKinney was involved. It’s too coincidental that he left base within the time you went missing. Why would he take you, though? Was he involved in all of this too? She’s never heard you mention his name before, nor have you brought up any strange feelings about any of the soldiers on base. Omegas are good at reading others' energies. It’s a natural defense mechanism and with your pureblood status, it makes you all the more aware of things in your environment. 

Then again, you kept the cameras from all of them. What else have you been hiding? 

She pushes the thoughts away. Now is not the time for conspiracies she can’t get an answer to. They need to find you first and ensure you’re alright. That’s the most important thing. 

“Lieutenant Colonel!” A soldier says, approaching their makeshift headquarters. “We found something, sir.” 

“What did you find?” He says, standing up straight. 

“A bullet on the trail, sir.” He places the bullet in Woods’ hand. “About a quarter of a mile from the trailhead.” 

Christine feels like passing out. Her legs are wobbling, knees shaking as she stands there, staring at the bullet. She needs to sit down, she needs to breathe. 

Don’t let them find a body. Please don’t let them find a body. 

The tear that trails down her cheek is hot against her clammy skin. 

Kate sighs as she puts down the phone. She wants to put her head in her hands, scream, punch something, anything. She can’t, though, she’s doing double duty. She’s the only one she trusts to do both of these things. This pack is hers to watch over, hers to help, and that includes the entire pack. 

Not much can be done until Corporal McKinney and his car are found. There won’t be any leads until then, unless they come across something on base. She hates it, that she can’t do more. She knows if she tells John, they’ll abandon this mission and be on a flight home in a heartbeat. It won’t do anyone any good until they know more, until the 141 are in a safer position. 

She hates keeping it from them, but it’s for everyone’s safety. 

Especially if what she uncovered is true. 

She can hardly believe it herself. Her eyes keep flickering to the files her team had uncovered, the truth finally spilling out about everything. There is no initiative. There was never going to be an initiative. They were all pawns being placed for a move like this, for a situation that calls for such drastic measures. 

The last few hours have hardly felt real. 

“Bravo 0-6 to Watcher 0-1 how copy?” John’s voice comes through the comms, almost startling her. 

She still has a job to do. 

“Loud and clear, Bravo 0-6.” She says, clearing her throat. 

“Kate, there’s nothing here.” 

Kate blinks at the screen, at the map that had been carefully laid out with exact points, confirmed visuals. “Come again?” She says, praying it was her overactive mind that misheard. 

“The warehouse is empty. There’s no sign of any missile having been here in the first place.” John says. 

What? Kate flips through files, scanning every bit of intel that had been given to her. 

They’re all pawns. 

There was no missile. There was no real intel. A red herring.

Separating the pack leaves members vulnerable. Take away the four and leave the omega alone and unprotected. Separate her from the one person left to keep watch over her, leave her vulnerable. 

It’s what they wanted all along. That was always the plan. 

“John, there’s...” She trails off as dots begin appearing on the map. She zooms in, her stomach dropping. “Four vehicles approaching your position.” 

“Friendly?” He asks, but she can hear the doubt in his voice. He knows they’re not. He’s done this enough times. 

“I don’t think they're meeting you for a picnic.” She says, trying to identify the vehicles. 

“We’ll dig in here. Keep them from getting in.” John says. 

“John...” Kate says. She should tell him. She needs to tell them before something goes wrong. If this was all a trap, then things will go wrong, yet she can’t bring herself to say it. Not yet. “Don’t come out of there in a body bag.” 

“Don’t give up hope on us yet.” He says before the line goes dead. 

Kate lets out a long breath, rubbing her eyes. It’s going to be a long next few hours. 

Your head is pounding. There’s a throbbing behind your eyes beating in time with your heart. It hurts, a quiet groan leaving your lips. The world is spinning and you haven’t even opened your eyes. Your entire body feels like it’s twisting and turning, your organs wringing themselves like a washcloth. You’re going to be sick, but you can’t even manage to lift your head. 

Everything feels heavy. Nothing is moving despite your brain telling it to. There’s a deep ache in your muscles and joints like you’ve been immobile for far too long and need to stretch. Your limbs try to move, yet nothing happens except a sharp pain in your left calf. You let out another groan, fingers curling at the sharp pain that radiates up through your leg to your hip. The throbbing behind your eyes intensifies as your head is moved, tilting up before falling backwards weakly.  

“Easy.” A voice coos at you, easing your head back straight. It flops to the side, none of your muscles coordinating like they should. “...know...dose...twice.” 

The words float in and out, muffled like you’re underwater and just barely bobbing above the surface. You do feel a bit like you’re underwater, trying to kick up to the surface of consciousness. Something is holding you under, keeping you from reaching that surface. 

There’s a hand on your face holding your head up as your muscles fight to activate enough to hold it up themselves. The hand is warm against your skin, rough and calloused. There’s two textures, skin and rough fabric against your face. Awareness begins to come back to you slowly, your mind clearing the fog the longer you’re awake. Your body hurts, muscles aching. You try to move your arms but you can't, something biting into the skin of your wrists as you turn them. 

“Don’t hurt yourself.” The voice says, calloused fingers brushing your arm. 

You flinch at the touch, muscles contracting painfully before they relax. You let out another groan, your brows pinching as you try to get your eyes to open. The haze hasn’t entirely lifted from your brain yet as you slowly become more aware of your surroundings. It’s cold where you are, goosebumps forming on your skin. It’s uncomfortable, your body too exposed. You want a sweatshirt, a blanket, something to keep the cold away. Something tickles in the back of your brain as you begin to pick up scents, several all at once, meshed together. It’s overwhelming, too much information flooding your brain all at once. 

The motion is automatic and instinctual as you turn your face to press into the hand on your cheek. You inhale deeply, trying to block out the overwhelming wave of senses, trying to get a sense of who it is in front of you, who is with you in the room. 

Woody. Soft wood. Cedar? It smells like a candle your mother used to burn. 

Sweet? Something sweet. Chocolate? Richer. Dark chocolate. 

Memories begin to float back as you inhale the scent. You know that scent. You’ve smelled it before. Your frown deepens as you hold your face there, nose pressed against the palm as your mind sluggishly digs through your hazy memory banks. You can’t even remember where you are or how you got there. 

“Good girl.” 

You know that voice. You’ve heard it before. Somewhere in the back of your mind it triggers something, some faded memory shoved deep into the depths of your memory bank. You dig for it, mining your sluggish brain as you try to figure out who it is, why it’s all so familiar. 

The other part of your brain focuses on your body, waking your muscles back up. With it comes the pain, the achiness: the throbbing in your calf, the pulsing behind your eyes, the ache in your muscles and joints. There’s a light somewhere in front of you, bright and shining through your eyelids. You don’t want to open them. It feels wrong, the bright light right in your face. You don’t like it. 

You pull your face away from the hand, your head drooping forward slightly as the muscles in your neck finally begin to engage. The scent is wrong. It’s not the right kind of wood. There’s no damp earth after a spring rain, no scent of petrichor. The touch isn’t right. It’s not soft enough, not warm enough. 

It’s not your alpha. 

The tingling in the back of your brain intensifies as you shoot into hyper-awareness from your sluggish state. Your instincts are awake, suddenly overwhelmed by the explosion of scents and sounds. There’s voices all around, quiet and hushed, but they might as well be yelling in your ears. There’s so many scents blending together until you can’t tell one from the other. 

Except the one in front of you. 

Cedar. Dark Chocolate. 

Memories crawl forward from the recesses of your mind. Childhood. Texas. Summer heat. The charcoal in the barbeque. Cedar and chocolate always too close. You hated it. You’ve always hated that smell.

Your eyes force themselves open, eyelids peeling up like a damp window that’s been closed for a decade. The window had been hard to open, yet you managed it with the adrenaline pumping through your body. 

Your heart rate picks up at the thought, some fear you can’t quite conceptualize yet in your half-aware state burning in the back of your mind. You breathe heavily as you fight to get your eyes open, blinking against the obtrusive light. Fluorescent, too bright to be comfortable. 

White walls, bright lights. Boots on the floor. 

Your pack. 

Where is your pack? Where is your alpha? 

Where are you?

Finally your eyes open, squinting against the bright light. You can’t see anything, the light directly in your eyes. It burns, tears gathering on your lids as you fight against the oppressive, blinding sun being directed at you. 

Voices float in the background and suddenly the light is turned away. You blink away the bright spots left in your vision, a couple tears falling uncontrollably. Rough fingers wipe them off your cheeks almost tenderly, but not tender enough.

Rough fingers across your skin, gripping you tightly, anchoring you. A soft voice floats through the air, rough yet comforting with the soft words calming the panic in you.

It’s not right. 

Nothing is right. 

You’re breathing heavily as you finally get your eyes fully open, the muscles in your neck contracting as you slowly lift your head. There’s someone kneeling in front of you, arm draped across their knee. They’re like a shadow, hidden mostly from view as you blink clarity into your eyes. Your brows pinch into a frown again as you blink, your gaze focusing on the face in front of you. 

You know that face. 

“There she is.” 

You know that voice. 

It’s been years since you heard it last. Memories slam into you in an onslaught, memories from your childhood, back when things were fine, things were normal, things were as they should be. 

Family. Texas. Alphas.

Cedar and chocolate. 

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, blinking in shock. Your brows furrow in confusion, your still foggy brain trying to piece everything together. 

You know him. 

It’s been years but you’ll never forget. 

The light brown hair, bright blue eyes, dimples indenting with that too-friendly grin. 

Your mouth is dry, your tongue heavy as it opens, forming the name on your lips. The name. It comes out in a croak, barely audible and understandable, but laced with confusion and disbelief. 

“Phil?” 

NEXT ->

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[soulprompts]

CARING FOR THE SICK PROMPTS.

i found this list and kinda fed into it each time i got the flu or a migraine, and u know what, it's just me revealing just how much i love the caring threads and the soft threads and the fondly exasperated "let me help you" threads! use at your pleasure, DO NOT ADD TO THE LIST NOR EDIT IT! i will be changing it accordingly!

" i found you passed out in the kitchen. you wanna stop working yourself so hard? or do i need to keep hitting the gym to carry you to bed every day? "

" you're burning up. "

" your neighbour called me and said you could use a nurse. looks like they were right, too. "

" you were told to take it easy, so... yeah. this is kinda on you. "

" you took a sick day. you NEVER take a sick day. so yeah, i got worried, and i figured i'd come over and keep an eye on you. "

" you texted me a long and incoherent text that held about 90% of the emoji list and about four different languages. figured it wouldn't hurt to drop by and see how you were doing. "

" how long have you been sick for? and don't lie. "

" you look like hell. "

" i brought you some soup; let me heat some up for you? "

" okay. it's time you went to the hospital. "

" hey… hello there, sleeping beauty. you gave me a bit of a scare yesterday. how are you feeling? "

" i swear, if you even think of getting out of that bed… "

" you know when i said to call if it's an emergency? a fever is most DEFINITELY considered an emergency! "

" if you think you're going to work like this, you better think again. "

" don't worry. my family swears by this remedy; just let it work its magic and you'll feel good as new in no time. "

" I don't care about getting sick. i'm not leaving you until you're back to full health. "

" you didn't stop to think that this might happen when you're burning the candle at both ends? "

" yeah, I can play the role of nurse AND say "I told you so" at the same time, actually. "

" you better drink every last drop of this tea, no matter how disgusting it is. "

" i told my boss it was an emergency so they've given me a full week to look after you. "

" quit being so stubborn and get into BED! "

" what part of doctor's orders hasn't sunk in yet? bed rest! for the WEEK! "

" right, where do you keep your saucepans? i'm going to make you my famous noodle soup. it's a cure-all, i'm telling you! "

" hey, unless you're going to the bathroom or the sofa, I don't want to see you out of that bed. got it? "

" when are you gonna start letting people look after you, huh? "

" i know, i know, i turned off all the lights once i figured you had the migraine. you want some tea? water? "

" don't be mad, but i saw your fridge, and... it frightened me. so i've taken you back to my place, and i'm gonna get deliveroo to bring some groceries to your place tomorrow. okay? "

" i know your appetite is a little off, so i ordered in a whole tonne of options. just try a little bit of something, please? for me? "

" i've brought half a pharmacy, enough movies and boardgames to last us a decade, and every single snack i could fit into the basket at the grocery store. so sit your butt down, eat your soup, and try and make the most of your bed rest for the next week, will you? "

ACTION PROMPTS ( SEND THE FULL LINE! and feel free to reverse if u wish! ):

[ TOUCH ]: sender gently rests a hand against the receiver's forehead to check their temperature.

[ DAMP ]: sender presses a cool cloth against the receiver's face, neck and forehead to try and lower their fever.

[ BLANKET ]: sender wraps another blanket around the receiver to try and stop them from shivering.

[ SPOON ]: sender gently coaxes spoons of soup into the receiver's mouth to build up their strength after an illness.

[ CARRY ]: sender, finding the receiver weakened/unconscious on the floor, immediately lifts them up and carries them back to bed.

[ AROUND ]: sender keeps a protective arm around the receiver to help them walk without the risk of stumbling or collapsing.

[ STAY ]: sender decides to stay by the receiver's bedside after learning that they're sick.

[ HAIR ]: sender smooths back the receiver's hair in a soothing gesture to try and help them go back to sleep.

[ TILT ]: sender tips a bottle of water up for the receiver to sip from.

[ HUM ]: sender hums/sings to soothe a sick receiver back to sleep.

[ BACK ]: sender gently rubs the receiver's back, either to soothe them or warm them while they're unwell.

[ SHARE ]: sender climbs into the receiver's sickbed with them, wrapping their arms around them to offer warmth and comfort.

[ SHOWER ]: sender, learning the receiver has a high fever, takes a cold shower with them in order to lower their temperature.

[ WAKEN ]: the receiver wakes up in bed, having been found unconscious by the sender and carried into the bed from the floor.

[ QUARANTINE ]: the sender and receiver, both being sick, decide to quarantine together and spend the recovery period with each other.

[starmaidengarden]

𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰 !

contexts: just some adorable headcanons about the Savanaclaw boys

— Leona : Ruggie : Jack : x gn!reader. no cw/tw. cute headcanons. pt2! Pic: Leo08ph on twt, dividers: uzmacchiato

Leona Kingscholar ༉⋆｡˚

⭑.ᐟ He often pretends not to care, yet he always remembers the smallest details you mention, whether it's your favorite comfort food or the name of a book you love. When he's feeling relaxed in your presence, you'll notice the way his tail sways softly, a silent testament to his comfort with you.

⭑.ᐟ During lazy afternoons, he’ll let you nap beside him, content to drape his tail over you like a warm blanket. It's an unspoken sign of affection that he reserves only for you. His hair is off-limits to everyone else, but when you're around, he allows you to play with it. If you gently run your fingers through his hair while he dozes, you'll earn a soft purr in response, though he'll likely deny it if you bring it up later.

⭑.ᐟ Unknown to you, he keeps one of your hair ties or a small trinket tucked away in his coat pocket, where he often finds himself fidgeting with it during moments. Whenever someone annoys you, a low growl rumbles in his throat, an instinctive reaction to protect you. He has a skill for picking up on your emotions before you even have the chance to say them: “Oi. You going to tell me who pissed you off, or am I supposed to guess?”

⭑.ᐟ Despite his arrogance, which often keeps jealousy at bay, he’s fiercely protective when it comes to you. He has an unshakeable confidence that you’re with him, but he won’t hesitate to confront anyone who mistakenly thinks they have a chance with you.

⭑.ᐟ He’s not into PDA and prefers quiet dates in his room, enjoying each other's company. He’ll stay awake to spend time with you, but if you're tired, he’s fine with a nap. He might try to teach you chess, but he won’t let you win.

⭑.ᐟ You provide a balance in his life, challenging his aloof demeanor. You refuse to let him hide behind his “I don’t care” facade, he is a big softie we all know it. Instead of walking away as others might, you choose to stay, even during his more difficult moments. Your persistent presence chips away at his defenses and makes him fall for you faster than he ever expected.

Ruggie Bucchi ༉⋆｡˚

⭑.ᐟ He sneakily brings you treats from the cafeteria, whispering with a cheeky grin, “Hey, don’t tell Leona, but I saved the last donut just for you.” It’s those little acts that make the moments feel special.

⭑.ᐟ When you’re feeling down, he has a talent for turning your frowns into laughter. He makes a game out of it, playfully overdoing his moves or jokingly trying to pull silly faces until you can't help but crack a smile.

⭑.ᐟ In a small gesture that means a lot, he keeps a photo of you tucked in his wallet, nestled next to a crumpled coupon and what seems like seventeen receipts. It’s a little glimpse into how he treasures the small moments you’ve shared.

⭑.ᐟ He’s always well-prepared, carrying extra hair ties, tissues, and an assortment of snacks just in case you might need something, jokingly declaring, “What, I’m just prepared for every situation!”

⭑.ᐟ Even when he’s running around town tackling little errands, he makes it an adventure. Picture him tossing you a soda while making a challenge out of drinking it without spilling a drop as you skip along. There’s a playful energy that fills the air, making the every day feel like a thrill.

⭑.ᐟ You often catch him whistling tunes while doing chores, a light-hearted soundtrack to the otherwise ordinary tasks.

⭑.ᐟ While he's quick to complain about the nice things he does for you—“Ugh, you owe me big time for this…”—he inevitably softens and helps you out anyway, even insisting, “Okay, move over, I’m carrying your stuff, too.” His gruff complaints are a gentle front for his support.

⭑.ᐟ He has a playful way of addressing you with nicknames like “your highness,” “boss,” and “my meal ticket,” each term laced with love and teasing.

⭑.ᐟ He may not get flustered easily, but when you compliment him sincerely or catch him off guard with a gesture of affection, it’s a sight to see. He freezes for just a beat, a look of surprise washing over his face, before breaking into a grin and burying his face in laughter, an endearing mix of bashfulness and delight.

Jack Howl ༉⋆｡˚

⭑.ᐟ Very respectful. Like, painfully respectful. He won’t make any moves until he is certain that you reciprocate his feelings—your comfort and consent are paramount to him. This deep-seated respect means that he often holds back, patiently gauging your reactions and emotions.

⭑.ᐟ He’s not one to seek out physical affection from just anyone; it has to be someone he feels truly close to. When it comes to those special people, though, he becomes a total softie, openly displaying his affection and warmth.

⭑.ᐟ When the weather turns and rain begins to fall, you can count on him to dash across campus, umbrella in hand, just to make sure you stay dry. His thoughtfulness shines bright in those moments, revealing his genuine care for you.

⭑.ᐟ He is the type of who notices when you have hair in your face and will move it aside. He wants to see your eyes and lips when you smile or laugh and likes to easily read your expressions. He finds it hard to do that if your face is covered by hair.

⭑.ᐟ If you ever want to train together, he’s all in. He’ll adjust his pace to match yours, ensuring you’re comfortable while pushing you to do your best. His encouraging words are a constant source of motivation, making the experience as enjoyable as it is rewarding.

⭑.ᐟ When he's jogging solo, he packs just the essentials: phone, headphones, water bottle, and timer. However, if you join him, he suddenly needs a first aid kit, a backpack full of snacks, a blanket, and a dozen other unnecessary items for a 30-minute jog.

[struwberrii]

haikyuu!! boys crushing on you ₊˚⊹♡

here are some silly headcanons on how i think the shiratorizawa guys would act while they have a crush on you + eventually confess :3

characters: ushijima, tendou, semi, shirabu, goshiki

˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡☆

ushijima

its weird because he knows he likes you and everyone else THINKS he MIGHT like you but hes so blunt and deadpan that its hard to tell

he doesnt treat you differently than he treats any other person but hes very kind and generous

gives you random compliments though, like is hes thinking something he just says it to you

'you look very beautiful today' or 'are you wearing a new perfume? it smells nice'

but at the same time he accidentally insults you like hell ask you when the last time you showered was

because of this nobody can really tell exactly how he feels about you until he eventually confesses

he would probably be very deadpan and unromantic about his confession too, he would just straight up ask you to go out with him (˶˃⤙˂˶)

but TRUST once he gets you out hes bringing you flowers, hes buying you your favorite snacks, hes holding doors for you pulling your chairs out for you

u rlly gotta trust the process LMAO i feel like hes just a lil dummy

tendou

i feel like he wouldnt confess because hes rlly insecure and doesnt think anyone would ever have romantic feelings for him so you would probably have to confess

he does little things to let you know he cares about you, like hed suggest manga he thinks youd like or some songs or has movie nights with you and brings snacks

jokes around a lot with you and actually shows a vulnerable side when hes alone with you

i can see him inviting you out just randomly and casually, like bringing you to a bakery he likes or going to the park with you late at night to swing on the swing sets and chat

also compliments you very boldly but immediately gets super blushy and flustered and starts stuttering ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

probably teases you a lot though but gets really nervy if hes too flirty about it

i feel like youd DEF have to confess but he'd probably be throwing you hints all night, complimenting you, buying you little keychains or snacks, holding your bags for you all that jazz

once you guys are officially together OH MY GOSH is he a different person, constantly flirting and teasing and now youre the one blushing and left stuttering by his words ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

semi

hes actually very sweet and chill about it

like when he first meets you hed probably just straight up say youre really pretty and ask for your phone number

hed be shocked to learn that you actually have a lot in common with him

overall is just very flirty and romantic while crushing on you, like he makes it NO secret that he has feelings for you (˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶)

jokes about you being his girlfriend but surprisingly take a while to actually ask you out

despite that he still is very protective over you and literally treats you like youre his girlfriend

def writes songs for you and sends voice memos of him playing them on his guitar ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

i feel like he wouldnt really try to hard to impress you or anything, hed just feel comfortable being himself around you and doesnt want you to end up falling for someone who isnt him (as in him not acting like himself)

invites you out on dates often before officially asking you out

he ends up asking you out with a cute stuffed animal and candy at your doorstep

shirabu

lurks from the shadows

i feel like he would probably push you away and be kind of cold twoards you because he thinks your really pretty but doesnt want to have feelings for you

i feel like hed just watch you and like admire you from a distance

would probably be too scared to have a genuine conversation with you so he sends you annonymous notes

hes your little secret admirer ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

his notes are so sweet though, like he writes you poems and tells you how nice you looked

i feel like hed be ok just being your secret admirer forever but he realizes he wont be your classmate forever so he ends up writing a note to meet him on the roof of the school during lunch

you end up meeting up with him and he asks you on an official date ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

goshiki

CONSTANTLLY trying to impress you (╥﹏╥)

just a big dork honestly

always invites you to his practices so he can show off his skills to you

if you compliment him hed probably be all blushy and smiley and hit you with the 'yeah it was nothin'

invites you out to play gacha machines and spends a bunch of money on you trying to win the figures you want

also brings you snacks and gives them to you during lunch (˶˃⤙˂˶)

honestly would do anything for your validation

tries to be cool and tough but you see right through that act almost immediately

probably invites you out to a movie and awkwardly tries to hold your hand but only ends up brushing hands with you

would try to ask you out after the movie ends but hed just be stuttering then ends up saying nevermind

you probably have to ask him out lol

even after all that hes STILL trying to act like a tough guy

[kleem-o]

I can’t stop thinking about Obsessive Ex Boyfriend!Sukuna. You and him were together since highschool, which shocked people, but at the same time they kinda get it. Sukuna was your typical asshole, and you were a spoiled high maintenance princess. Oh don’t get me wrong though, you weren’t just all bark, you were all BITE too. Top of the class and excelled at sports (well it was passable). But the same also applies to Sukuna, both of you fighting for the top spot in academics (you always won) and sports (he always won). You guys were such an oddly cute couple, always bickering.

“Kuna go get me some snacks in the cafeteria please!”

“Damn brat go do it yourself!” *still proceeds to go buy you snacks without hesitation*

But you guys weren’t always bickering, behind closed doors he secretly LOVED being babied. You guys usually have cuddle dates in his room with his door locked (he learned to lock the door after his baby brother Yuji suddenly entered to borrow his switch)

You would lay on your back with him on top of you, burying his face on your neck.

“I love you so much, who’s my good boy?”

“I am.. ‘love you..”

You would let your hands play with his hair and caress his back, and he feels like he’s literally melting. He’d be damned if anyone else saw him like this, he’d rather die.

Now here’s where it gets tricky, you guys graduated highschool and are now off to college, unfortunately you guys are going to different colleges (which you both had a fight about) but are still in the same city.

The little bickerings became actual fights, not caring where you guys were (yours and Sukuna’s poor friends are traumatized).

But extreme lows comes with extreme highs, when you guys made up or behind closed doors, you and Sukuna act as if a fight never happened.

“I love you so much baby” Sukuna always makes promises of undying love, in hopes that you would understand that even though you guys fought a lot, his love for you will never change.

But then after one fight (shhh i might make a fic about this if yall want) you broke up with him.

His world was shattered. But being who he was, his pride was too high to give in (or at least in the outside)

He would pretend that he was fine when clearly… the voice messages he sends you at night says otherwise.

“Ha! Yeah, I don’t really give a shit anymore, ‘m too busy getting fucked over by exams anyway.”

“Hey baby, please can we talk? I really miss you and I’m sorry please, give me one chance please, I love you”

“Yoo bro, you okay? You’re pretty wasted” Gojo says as he tries to take Sukuna’s drink in his hand. “Fuck off, ‘m fine..” Obviously he’s not, he had way too many shots even for someone who had high tolerance, the lights of the bar was making him dizzy, and his empty notifications despite his numerous voice and text messages to you were starting to make his eyes blur with tears. Gojo saw this and threw their other friend, Geto, a look.

They both had a hard time trying to haul Sukuna in Gojo’s car, with Sukuna deadass crying talking about I need her back, she can’t do this to me, we aren’t over, I love her. He kept yelling too, about bringing him to your place instead of his. So they called you and you agreed to have him over because its dangerous for him to be alone in his state (totally not just because you miss him, and lowkey want to see him wasted and crying lol)

They brought him to your unit and left telling you to call them if you need help with anything. The moment the doors closed Sukuna hugged you tightly. “Please..please come back to me.. make me yours again please.. I-I love you please ‘m sorry..” He was literally sobbing on your shoulder, with you patting his back.

“Okayy big guy let’s go to bed” You did your best to clean him up and you both laid on your bed, with you staring at the ceiling and him staring at you.

“Are we back together?” You laugh and looked at him “Hmmm… I’ll think about it, maybe if you beg me in the morning.” Sukuna’s eyes teared up a bit and he smiled. “Can we cuddle for tonight?” You can sense how careful he is with his words, it would be very out of character for other people, but you, and only you, knew that this is how he always was. “ Of course, c’mere.”

Sukuna hurriedly wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face beneath yours. He tangled his legs with yours and took a long breath. It smelled like home. He is home, and tomorrow everything will be okay again.

a/n: idk what this is lol i really just needed to get it out of my system 😩 want to write more about this dynamic, the asshole x spoiled brat type shi, like finally someone rivals the energy of the asshole 😩 and also this might be insanely ooc but its ok bc its fun 😚 and also this is just how he is with reader! (totally not just an excuse)

[lazy-ahh]

ALMOST, BUT NOT QUITE

pairing mark grayson x gender neutral reader

childhood best friends aren't supposed to stare at each other's lips. they don't linger in quiet moments, hearts pounding, stealing glances that last a second too long—close enough to cross the line, but too scared to take the leap, scared of ruining the one good thing close to perfection in their lives. mark grayson knows this. you know this. yet here you both are... two idiots who'd rather choke on their words than admit the truth.

you and mark have been best friends for years—through sixth grade, high school, his early days as invincible, and all the chaos that comes with being a teenager stuck in puberty one day and thrown into superpowers the next. you'd call the two of you close, very close actually. perhaps maybe too close?

or at least, that's what it feels like when his hand brushes yours and neither of you pull away. when you're in a crowded room and it's like the world narrows down to just his laugh, just your stupid jokes, just the way he looks at you like you're the only person who matters.

the two of you know each other's schedules by heart. both of you know exactly how to cheer each other up after a particularly rough day. your inside jokes are a language only the two of you speak, and every 'accidental' touch lingers a second too long and leaves the two of you feeling satisfied just for a brief moment yet desperate for more. compliments are mumbled, quiet things—meant only for his ears only, or yours. it's the way he brings you your favourite snack after a tough mission, the way you patch up his wounds without being asked. it's the way this doesn't feel like just a friendship anymore.

meh, might just be overthinking it.

you huff through your nose, chin propped on your palm as you watch mark launch into yet another rant about seance dog—this time at william, who looks like he's two seconds from drowning himself in his chocolate milk. your lips twitch when mark's voice pitches higher, hands waving wildly as he makes some ridiculous point, and poor william, you're honestly impressed that his exasperated expression could become more... exasperated. your amusement drifts away after a moment though, when your eyes trail down to mark's arms.

you try not to stare. really, you do. i think. but it's hard because mark's sleeves are rolled up to his elbows like come kind of cruel joke, and his forearms are doing that thing where the tendons shift under his skin when he gestures. and god, his hands—calloused from hero work, fingers splaying mid-air like he's trying to physically sculpt his terrible arguments. your eyes catch on the rough knuckles, the faint scars from battles, the way his fingers flex—strong, but oddly graceful, like he could crush steel or trace a whisper down your spine with the same hands.

you swallow hard, throat suddenly dry as your brain betrays you with the image of those fingers—rough palms skimming your waist, the heat of them gripping your hips, the way his thumb might—

you blink rapidly, your gaze drags up (slowly, very slowly) over the curve of his biceps, the way his stupid "i bench-press buildings now" shoulders stretch his sweater when he throws his arms out. puberty had already been generous to mark grayson, but superpowers? superpowers were obscene. his waist is still narrow, but his chest is broader, his back tapered in a way that makes your teeth ache when he leans forward across the lunch table. and his thighs—

"hey, you good?" mark suddenly asks, his hand pausing from waving in front of your face.

you jerk upright, your face feeling warmer. "what? yeah, pssh. of course i am, why wouldn't i be?"

he grins, dorky and adorable and oblivious. "you were staring at me like i grew a second head or something."

oh, if only you knew.

william shoots you a knowing look, his lips twisting into a shit-eating grin as something positively devilish glints in his eyes. he leans across the lunch table, elbows knocking into his tray. "ohhh, someone's got it bad," he sing-songs, wiggling his eyebrows. "c'mon, spill - are they hot? because that," he points at your face, "is the look of someone who's thirsty. absolutely dehydrated-"

both you and mark snap your heads toward william in perfect sync - though your expression quickly morphs into pure horror, cheeks burning so hot you could power a small city. mark's reaction is worse - his eyes go wide, his grip tightening around his juice box until it crunches ominously.

"y-you like someone?" mark asks, voice cracking in a way that would be hilarious if it wasn't so devastating. there's something heartbreaking in the way his shoulders slump, like a golden retriever who just got told 'no walk today.'

your brain short-circuits. "no! yes? i mean-" you flail, hands waving wildly like you're trying to physically bat away the conversation. why are you sweating? why does this feel like you're being interrogated for the murder of a family of five? and why, why does mark look at you like you just kicked his favourite action figure into oncoming traffic?

you sigh in defeat, face falling into your hands. "it's complicated..." you messed up. big time. well—okay, you didn’t, but it feels like you did. why are you even panicking? it’s not like mark’s your boyfriend. not like you’re promised to each other or whatever.

you’re one second away from digging yourself a hole and rotting in it forever when you feel a hand settle on your shoulder—warm, solid, mark’s—giving you a gentle squeeze. you peek through your fingers, and there he is: looking at you with those stupidly soft brown eyes, the corners crinkled with quiet concern. his thumb rubs a tiny circle against your collarbone, and god, it’s unfair how easily your body melts under his touch, tension evaporating like he’s got some secret superpower just for calming you down.

"hey, it’s fine." his voice is so soft, so close, you swear you could dissolve into a puddle right here in the cafeteria. "it’s not like i’ll beat you into a pulp if you have a crush." he jokes, pulling his hand away to nudge your shoulder with his knuckles instead. you try not to pout at the loss of warmth.

"yeah, you’re right," you sigh, finally dropping your hands—but not before shooting him a sidelong glance. "sorry for, y’know. emotionally collapsing over nothing."

mark clutches his chest like you’ve stabbed him, lips twitching despite his very serious pout. "it’s not nothing. i can’t believe you’d hide a crush from me. after all we’ve been through?" his voice dips, faux-dramatic. "the trauma. the bonding. my undying loyalty—"

you kick his shin under the table, but your grin ruins the effect. "god, you’re insufferable. fine. our relationship is clearly toxic." you lean in, stage-whispering, "you’re obsessed with me. it’s unhealthy."

"oh, totally," he deadpans, matching your lean until his shoulder bumps yours. "real stalker behavior. i’ll start sending you creepy letters next."

"promise?" you say without thinking—then freeze. shit.

mark’s smirk softens, just for a second. "only if you write me back," he murmurs, so quiet you almost miss it. then he’s straightening up, clearing his throat. "but, uh. yeah. toxic. i’m a monster."

you roll your eyes, propping your chin on your palm again as william gags dramatically, clutching his stomach like the mere idea of feelings is poisoning him. the conversation ironically spirals into william's love life, ending with him scoffing, "hard pass on your advice, grayson. unless ‘eternally single’ is the aesthetic i’m going for."

when the bell rings, the three of you shuffle out of the cafeteria, splitting off down different hallways—mark with a half-wave over his shoulder, william already texting someone (probably to complain about you two). you should be thinking about your next class. about the quiz you didn’t study for.

instead, your traitorous brain replays mark’s voice, low and teasing: only if you write me back.

stupid. it’s stupid how your heart still stutters like you’re some middle-schooler with a crush. how your fingers twitch at your side, phantom-warm where his shoulder had brushed yours.

(≧∇≦)ﾉ☆

the glow of your monitor is the only light in your room when you hear the familiar tap-tap against your window. even before you pull back the curtains, you're already reaching for the first aid kit under your bed—because mark grayson might live next door, but he always comes to you like this, bleeding and beautiful in the moonlight.

"missed the front door again, huh?" you tease as you help him inside, but the joke dies when you see the bruise blooming across his ribs and the way there's that stupidly familiar black eye on his right eye. good thing it's not as bad as the last times. "shit, mark."

"i've had worse," he mumbles, but winces as you press a disinfectant wipe to his side. his skin is warm under your fingers, sticky with sweat and city grime. for a while, it's quiet—just your careful hands, his steady breathing, and the way his eyes track your face like you're the only solid thing in the world.

then, softer: "...sometimes i wonder if i'm even making a difference out there."

your fingers pause. "hey." you tilt his chin up, thumb brushing the cut on his cheekbone. "you saved seven people tonight. i heard it on the scanner."

"and how many did i not save?" his voice cracks, raw in a way that has nothing to do with physical wounds.

you don't have an answer for that. so you just lean your forehead against his, noses almost touching, his breath warm against your lips. "you can't carry the whole world, vincible."

he remembers when you first called him that, years ago, all sarcasm and raised eyebrows ("invincible? really? more like vincible if you keep tripping over your own feet"). now, it’s something else entirely. now, it’s the way your voice dips, tender and knowing, like you’ve carved a home just for him in that single word. vincible. his chest tightens.

the nickname—once teasing, once a joke about his dumb superhero name—comes out so soft now it might as well be darling. sweetheart. mine. mark's pulse stutters at the way your voice wraps around it, at how your thumbs brush his cheekbones like he's something precious. he wonders, distantly, if there's even a difference between vincible and i love you when you say it like that—all fondness and quiet understanding, like the words are just different shapes of the same feeling.

(he knows which one makes his chest ache more. he wonders, desperately, if you can feel how ruined he is for you—if you notice the way his breath hitches when your thumbs brush his cheekbones, if you know he’s memorized the exact weight of your sighs. it’s pathetic, maybe, how easily you unravel him.)

"you’re staring," you murmur, but you don’t pull away.

mark should say something clever. something normal. instead, his traitorous heart whispers: you’re my whole world.

what comes out is: "shut up."

he exhales, shaky, and leans into it—just slightly, just enough to make your heart pound against your ribs. when you pull back, his eyes are dark and searching, lips parted like he's about to say something that'll change everything.

instead, he whispers, "you'd make a terrible motivational speaker, you know that?"

you snort, swatting his arm. "and you'd make a terrible patient. always whining."

"only for you," he says, so casually it aches.

(and god, does he mean it. he’d whine, beg, bleed for your attention if it meant you’d keep looking at him like this—like he’s worth the effort. like he’s yours.)

there it is again—that look. the one where his gaze drops to your mouth for half a second too long, where he wonders if you’d taste like the iced tea you’d been drinking or something sweeter. where your hands, still cradling his face, tremble just a little, and he has to bite his tongue to keep from leaning into them completely and placing a tender kiss on your palm. the air between you is charged, suffocating, alive.

(he wants to ruin this. he wants to have this. he does neither.)

then mark grins, breaking the spell. "maybe i should hire you as my personal doctor."

"with what money?" you laugh, shoving him. "last i checked, 'professional martyr' doesn't pay well."

he clutches his chest in mock offense, but his laughter fades too quickly. and just like that, two hours had passed already, but it felt like only minutes. (time always bends around you—stretching and collapsing like taffy, leaving him dizzy.)

at your window, he hesitates—hand gripping the frame like it’s the only thing keeping him from crawling back to you. shoulders tense, throat tight with all the words he won’t say: stay. ask me to stay. please.

"see you tomorrow?" he finally asks, half-turned toward you like a question.

you swallow the stay on your tongue. "yeah. tomorrow."

(and maybe tomorrow, he’ll be brave. maybe tomorrow, he’ll say it. maybe—)

the moment passes. again.

2k words is crazy i'm not even gonna lie- and if you made it to the end—thank you. no, seriously, you reading this means the world to me. this is my first one-shot in forever, so i’m equal parts nervous and stupidly excited. constructive criticism is appreciated here, i would love to know how to make my one-shots better: more yearning? write banter that feels natural (how do people even talk, lmao) do we need more yearning chat? also, angst might be coming, so watch out for that lol

[synthetickitsune]

svt ot13 + late night drive

Seungcheol ❧ In his eyes, this is the best way to blow off some steam. Seungcheol knows that soon enough the view of the road and scenery passing by in a blur will help your thoughts flow. Sure, it might feel like you’re stuck together but you love each other. Even when things are bumpy. His hand is on your thigh or holding your hand, occasionally bringing it to his lips. He knows that sometimes he loses control. The focus he needs to keep on the road grounds him, helps him keep emotions from exploding all over the place. Perhaps it’s the same for you too. So when tension is high between you, a night drive it is. His only rule is to never bring full on arguments into the car. He wants it to remain your safe haven. Seungcheol makes it a point that he’s gonna keep driving until everything is talked through. And that’s including your day after the issue at hand is settled. Because he cares. Because he needs you to know he does. He can never keep his hands off you once you get out of the car, craving physical contact after a crisis has been avoided.

Jeonghan ❧ The drive is quiet, radio playing on low volume in the background. Jeonghan prefers it this way, partly because his everyday life is already loud enough but mostly because he knows the hum of the engine and the soft music will lull you to sleep eventually. Then he’ll of course get to watch you sleep adorably in the passenger seat and coo over you when he wakes you up later and you’ll cling to him all the way to bed. It’s an intimate affair, driving through the dark streets illuminated by the golden lights. Jeonghan can feel your barely open eyes on him whenever you wake up, from the corner of his eye he can see the small smile on your lips as well. He turns to look at you too at every red light and when the roads are empty, he steals a glance every now and then. Even when he parks the car, you spend some more time just sitting in the car, turned towards each other with your lips turned into smiles. You don’t need words to convey how much you appreciate simply spending time together separated from the rest of the world.

Joshua ❧ When Joshua is in charge of your night drives, you always leave the city behind. Time doesn’t always allow you to escape, but he makes the effort to find the roads that will guide you somewhere secluded. It tends to be quiet, the music filling in the space because his lips are too busy leaving soft kisses on your knuckles or, at the occasional opportunity to stop and wait, your temple. There’s a playful curl to his lips and gleam in his eyes that always makes you feel like he’s not just pretending, like he will run away with you one day. For now, however, it remains nothing but a dream. As you drive through the dark areas, his voice drops lower as he tells you about urban legends set in the area that he (allegedly) read online. You can never tell if he’s joking or not, but sometimes he achieves his goal and you get goosebumps and watch the shadows outside twist to fit his tales. Joshua only chuckles and reassures you that he’d protect you from the horrors - to a reasonable degree. Because he knows the best way to get your mind off it is to annoy you. And he gets to kiss the pout off your lips.

Jun ❧ Going for a drive with Jun means you’ll likely have to get the car cleaned the next day. You don’t pull out of the driveway without the car stacked with more snacks than you really need. You hold them to his mouth and he’ll say he trusts you with his life by letting you feed him and you’ll fondly roll your eyes. It’s way too much snacks, especially seeing that you’ll be stopping for more along the way. Or at least you’ll jot down the names of the best looking places to check out later. There’s never enough items on your evergrowing to-explore list. Not to mention sometimes suggesting to try a new place is the only way to raise his spirits. Your boyfriend, stubborn man that he is, will insist nothing’s wrong. But you know. You notice that he holds your hand a little tighter. There’s no need for background noise when he keeps talking. Old dreams, new dreams, things you promised to try together. Like he’s looking for a piece of hope to hold on. It’s not always, but you know these drives are his escapes. A space where he can say whatever he wants like he’s leaving everything but you and him behind.

Soonyoung ❧ You need to remind him this is not a race. Soonyoung would never drive recklessly, especially not with you in the car with him, but the highway is basically empty and it’s so easy for him to slip into a stupid skit in which he’s a retired streetracer. Your car may not sound like a sports car but he’s creative enough to make his own sound effects. Your laughter is all the fuel he needs for his fantasies. After all, these drives are for you two to simply relax and let everything go. He’ll open up the windows and encourage you to scream with him. Shout out anything you want - yell at your boss, your parents, the annoying kid that took the last free seat on the train. He doesn’t hold back, venting all his frustrations big and small. You got his back, of course you support him - and the other way around, he’ll agree with his chest to anything you say. It’s honestly draining to get everything off your chest. You feel lighter, though, and so does he. Without fail, however, once you get under the covers, Soonyoung asks if you weren’t secretly venting about him under a different name the whole time.

Wonwoo ❧ It’s usually a little against your will whenever Wonwoo takes you on a drive through the dark city. You may pout and try to guilt him into taking you home but he knows, and you do too - you’ll give in to what you want and need soon. He knows you don’t know when to take a break, that you tend to push beyond what’s healthy and good for you. So he takes it upon himself to give you the chance to relax that you need. It’s quiet because you’ll talk when you want to talk and you’re overwhelmed with the constant noise and music in your headphones while you work as is. It must be one of his favorite sights to see you slowly relax and melt into the seat. Your hand eventually finds his waiting on his thigh for this exact moment. He won’t take your thanks but he will accept an apology for sulking when he was just being a good boyfriend. And as a good boyfriend, Wonwoo listens when you start spilling about everything that stresses you out. He has all the spots where he can stop and hug you for as long as you need memorised, he has tissues and your favorite comfort hoodie ready too.

Jihoon ❧ The night’s peace settles inside the car. There’s no need for words, and so silence sometimes stretches on and on, but that’s alright too. Jihoon will put his hand on your thigh and hold you while you both think and enjoy the vibe. Some words get exchanged, and some nights he will rant on about what’s on his mind - cautiously, as if he hasn’t yet learned that you’ll always listen. Mostly it’s time to unwind and listen to the engine purr or the wind rush past the open windows while you leave the familiar scenery behind. It’s easier to relax where you can be alone and unknown. When you find a secluded spot, he stops and pulls out a blanket for you to sit on the hood of the car with him and watch the sky. It became a tradition to hold hands while you wait for a shooting star, yet it lost the original point a long time ago. Now you just enjoy each other’s company - that’s already enough luck. With your hand in his hair, Jihoon can sigh in relief and close his eyes so tight he sees the white of all the stars. He only needs you to stay by his side, nothing more.

Minghao ❧ Drive with Minghao means leaving with the setting sun. It’s a long affair, because a drive with him means going somewhere where the sky is clear and the air smells of earth, not pollution. Under the stars, he rolls down the windows and you both let the wind rushing past caress your palms. The wind rattles the tree branches or blows through the leaves of grass. The scenery is beautiful and the universe above reminds you of your individual insignificance. It’s just another form of meditation, sometimes a quiet moment to get lost in thought, sometimes more of an opportunity to open up to each other. He loves you and cherishes you as a person, and while it is impossible to know and understand another completely, Minghao is going to try. He finds himself smiling on these drives, because talking with you only proves that he chose the right person. Even if you have to agree to disagree on certain topics, the discussion is productive. It makes him think - he likes that. And when he finds the perfect spot, he’ll stop the car and pull you out to just breathe with him. To remember there’s more to life than the competition and chaos of the concrete jungle you live in.

Mingyu ❧ He likes the aesthetics. Nice car, shitty lighting, blurry and unfocused quality. There’s just something about the vibe, you know? Mingyu is trying to find the words to explain while acting natural except he’s anything but. He tries to look hotter, his gestures giving off a different, more sophisticated vibe that almost has you rolling your eyes behind your phone while you take pictures of him. They look good. A little too good. But taking a few pictures of him in the car is all he’ll ask of you. Because this is about you. He knows the long quiet drive helps you think, and he’s observant enough that he already knows what you’re thinking about and what’s been on your mind lately. He’ll help with innocent questions that just hit the nail on the head. It seems like a magic trick to you. And because he really enjoys the vibe of these drives and the atmosphere, once you get more relaxed and he finds a safe place to stop for a while, he’ll lure you out for your own personal photoshoot. The night air and his bright grin help clear your head completely. And if not? Well Mingyu kisses all the stress away. What’s a better mood booster - the flattering pictures or how much he cares about you?

Seokmin ❧ What should be a calm time to unwind inevitably turns into a loud but satisfying impromptu karaoke. All it takes is one banger to come up on the radio and Seokmin can’t hold back - and that in turn means you join in. There’s hardly anyone around anyway, so nobody won’t witness you trying to hit the high notes that your boyfriend pulls off so effortlessly. You always get too loud when you’re together, as if trying to impress each other. But once the music calms down, once you run out of energy, you feel like you can do anything. More tired than when you got into the car but also happier. Seokmin checks on you, you check on him, reassuring each other that you’re okay. That this is fun, that being silly together is still something you want, that even after a long and tiring day, you’re the ones who bring a smile to each other’s face. And then it’s finally time for quiet conversations. It’s ridiculous how fast you switch from screaming your lungs out to whispering as if somebody was there to catch you. Slowly you exchange soft reassurances and softer, fleeting touches. If there’s an encore, it’s all quietly sung love songs.

Seungkwan ❧ He’s supposed to relax. But looking at Seungkwan’s face you know that in his head he’s still working. Going through scripts, going through lyrics. You squeeze his thigh and he jumps a little before giving you an apologetic smile. You remind him to slow down, as he often does to you. He takes it a little too literally as you make a detour to quieter parts of the city before leaving altogether. Somewhere with little lights, somewhere he needs to drive slowly too. He insists it helps, yet he still asks you to talk to him. To tell him something. So you do - you tell him a story about a completely hypothetical boyfriend that does a very good job but that needs to relax before he starts to need to watch his blood pressure on top of everything else. He gets offended, even though it’s a purely hypothetical boyfriend. So of course he complains about you - not even trying to hide it - and the dishes you haven’t done yesterday. He only briefly stutters when he remembers that he actually promised to do them. It’s always him forgetting about something that concerns you that finally flips the switch in Seungkwan’s brain. The work gets forgotten. He insists on making it up to you. You’ve never seen someone improvise a date as perfectly as him.

Vernon ❧ With the music playing and the streets outside nothing but a blur of lives that don’t concern you, you talk about anything and everything. It’s silly, more often than not just pure nonsense that slowly transforms into playing games. Making up stories about the people you pass. Cracking the worst jokes you know. It’s therapeutic - you think Vernon needs this just as much as you do. There’s no plan, you rely on pure chance. If you happen to see a place that looks interesting, that’s where you stop and go. You’ve visited more roadside curiosities than you’d ever believe possible. Some turn out lame and you have to save the experience by making it fun for each other. Others are great and you recommend them to your friends. And in rare cases, you visit them once and then they disappear. No trace of them left. It’s getting hard to encounter them in the wild, especially close to the city but you and Vernon always believe that you’ll be lucky. And if not, there’s plenty of drive-thrus to go around. Sometimes you treat yourself to a drive-in cinema instead. With his arm thrown around your shoulders, pulling you close, you think life doesn’t get much better.

Chan ❧ He gives you the full princess treatment, adjusting everything to your preferences, fastening your seatbelt while holding your bag, everything. Chan wants to show off. He wants to be mature. The mood just makes him want to talk and because he finally has some private time with you, he’s set on making it count. Your future together is a big topic for him. And because you’re both relaxed, enjoying the familiar scenery outside, the conversation flows nicely. No tension, no room for worries or doubts. Inevitably it starts going off the rails of reality into the ridiculous, but that’s alright. You’re laughing and dreaming about your future, that’s good! You want a future with him! You’re holding his hand and chuckle and coo when he kisses your knuckles. But before the future, the present must happen. The past happened. And the golden light of the streetlights makes him remember. Chan really didn’t mean to make this a trip into nostalgia, but he’d lie if he said it doesn’t make him emotional how many good memories you remember. It makes him feel like you’ve shared a lot of good times. His knees get weak when you tell him you can’t wait to grow old with him and remember this night.

[asunflowerana]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

summary: there's an competitor around, and the boys will make sure to let them know who's worthy of your heart.

with: inarizaki team (atsumu, osamu, aran, suna and kita)

n/a: better bring an ice bag for kai. boy's not in a good situation.

⊛ miya atsumu: the show off

It’s unusual for Atsumu to feel insecure. He comprehends how handsome, talented, funny (his brother would disagree) and charming he is,which explains how he became so popular in school. Heck, he even discovered not long ago that he has a fanclub going on online. Based on those facts, it’d be foolish for some boy to try to compete with him. However, that’s not enough to make Kai, one of your classmates, give up on you. And that surely does a good job on getting on the blonde’s nerves, but he’s not a quitter, especially with something — better yet, someone — he’s been wishing for quite a while. 

So, Atsumu uses his best weapon against the enemy: he shows off.

Seriously, that boy looks like a peacock, displaying all of his best features and abilities whenever you’re around, making sure that Kai also gets the hint. He praises you in every opportunity he finds, helps you carry your stuff, gives you sweets and snacks, and even tries to impress you with his physique, either by carrying something heavy, or randomly stretching his body or flexing his biceps. 

But the moment he shines is surely on his volleyball matches. This boy overflows with confidence, making the court his stage to glow, and winning not only the game but a sweet peck of your lips on his cheek, congratulating his win. He gives you a beaming smile, taking a second to cheekily wink at his opponent’s direction, before returning his gaze to the real prize. “It was all for ya, babe.”

⊛ miya osamu: the competitive

Osamu’s also very assured of himself, aware of his many qualities (his brother would disagree), but when he notices that someone wants what he wants, a key turns inside his brain and he becomes seriously competitive. With his grades, physique, food, even his own Ma became a victim of his impulsive behavior — he couldn’t back down though, or Atsumu would be the favorite. It’s not a surprise that you’d also be included on that list, being his crush for almost a year. 

To prove that he’s the best, he likes to challenge his opponents first. It can be anything, he might even let the person decide, but the rules remain the same: no cheating, and whoever loses must back off immediately. He can’t say he doesn’t feel a certain nervousness when he does those challenges; but when he compromises with something, you better be sure he goes to win. He’ll make sure of that.

And since Kai’s dumber than he looks like, it wasn’t a hard task to make the boy fall into his trap. After all, Osamu has a secret skill that most boys his age don't think it's important to get.

 “I know what you're trying with ______.” Osamu counters, having found the boy alone in the locker room after PE. Kai rolls his eyes at him, finishing drying his hair. “And what’re you gonna do about it ? I ain’t afraid of you, Miya.”

“Really?” He approaches his adversary, starting to size him with an unwavering stare. “Then ya must know she loves some homemade cookies. ‘was thinkin’ of baking her some this week.” He gives him the best smirk he has. “You're not afraid of that, are ya?”

⊛ aran ojiro: the intimidator

Aran is a lovely boy. Seriously, he has such good manners, so friendly and respectful with others, that you wish all the boys could have the same attitude. He knows that, and that’s just his personality; what he noticed though, is that many guys get intimidated by him, mostly because of his size and tone of voice. It was weird to acknowledge that in the beginning, but now he enjoys the respect he gained from that.

When he realized that some nidiot was trying to win you over, he thought: why not use that, then?

Don’t misunderstand, Aran doesn’t approve of bullying at all, and he would lift a hand to someone if it wasn’t necessary. But maybe, you know, a simple warning might convince the boy to give up. It doesn’t hurt trying.

“Hey, Kai!” Aran finds the boy eating at a table in the cafeteria, and without waiting to be invited, he sits down right next to him, placing his chair very close his. “How'ya doing man? Good? Great, listen up.” He puts one huge hand on the boy’s back, while giving him a too-friendly smile. “I like _____. But I saw you trying to ask her out yesterday. You see, it’s really hard to date a girl if someone else’s on the way, so can you do me a favor? Stay away from her.” Low and clear, Aran’s voice sends chills over the poor boy’s body. Then he grins, smacking Kai’s back like long-time friends. “Thanks, bud!”

⊛ suna rintaro: the cunning

Suna’s really clever. He knows how to be patient enough to turn any situation in his favor: for example, winning you over. He doesn’t know how long it will take, or how many steps and casualties his plan might have, but everything he does is solemnly meant to make you fall in love with him, little by little.It doesn’t matter if a stone called Kai gets in the way: he knows how to handle it.

No man is perfect, so all he needed to do was find a flaw in his opponent. It could be the most silly thing, but if it made Kai’s reputation fall just a tad, it’d become a jewel in Suna’s hands.

And after a few days of observing his opponent, Suna found out that dear Kai is a womanizer. Heck, he didn't even try to hide the fact that he’s been hitting on almost all of the girls in his class, which made Suna very pleased, being able to record him charming a girl in good sound and details.With all the evidence, Suna makes his master move, revealing the whole truth to you.

“It’s okay, ______.” And there he is, cradling you in his arms and caressing your hair gently, comforting you after you saw the video. “There’s a lot of guys like him here. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure that none of them come your way, if you let me” His smile grows when he receives your grateful words, feeling you melt into his arms like you meant to do. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’ll always be here for you.”

⊛ kita shinsuke: the modest

Shinsuke’s so secure. It doesn’t matter if the guy who’s trying to win you over is the most popular, handsome, or intelligent man in the country. No one can change the fact that Kita knows you, the true you, and he knows that you’re perfect for each other, even with the differences that some might point out. You have what he admires, and he surely has admirable traits to convince you. 

So all he does is treat you normally. Except that Kita’s normal is a very high level of manners and care that many boys in high school don’t even dream of having, including his opponent. 

After all, it is rare to find a boy who’ll willingly bring you your favorite warm drink before class on the cold days, or help you study on the library so you can do well on tests, or walk with you to the bus stop on the way home just to make sure that you’re safe, or even send texts and paper notes reaffirming how special and capable you are.

And you found Shinsuke, who does all of that, and so much more just to see you well. Is there really anyone who can compete with him? He doesn’t think so.

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[certifiedfreec]

i feel like there would be some subtle signs that ghost took an interest in you…

- one time you were showing him something on the computer, and he took that massive 6’4” body of his and leaned it right over your shoulder to read the screen. as if that wasn’t close enough, he rested one of his big ‘ol calloused hands on the desk beside you, effectively caging you into your seat. you could practically feel the warmth that radiated off of him when he did that. (he really likes the smell of your shampoo, by the way.)

- he watched you make your coffee one morning, memorizing your order down to the number of sugar packets you used. after that, you’d head down to make your morning cup and all the exact ingredients would mysteriously be laid out on the counter for you. he’d pick on you later about drinking coffee instead of tea, though. maybe he’ll make you a cup for you to try- back in his own office, of course ;)

- everyone in tf141 knows you’re a perfectly capable soldier, so they think it’s odd that ghost always finds ways to provide extra backup for you during missions. guarding you from danger, making sure your area is clear of threats…he can’t help but want to protect and take care of his fellow teammate, though he has a list of other ways he’d like to take care of you :’)

i feel like there would be some subtle signs that keegan took an interest in you…

- he saw your phone screen after training one day, immediately zeroing in on the artist you were listening to. later that evening he casually brings up the exact same band/person, because he’s coincidentally one of their biggest fans! maybe he’ll ask you to go to one of their shows when you’re off duty… looks like you’ve found yourself a concert buddy ;)

- he bullies you, but it’s with the best intentions. it’s more like him relentlessly nagging at you until you match his snarky energy and give him some sass back, which he loves to provoke from you. you always have the best comebacks when he uses his dry humor on you, and he thinks it’s adorable. he definitely likes to push your buttons, but he’d like to undo them even more <3

- ever since he revealed your “shared love” for your favorite artist, he sends you music recommendations for you to listen to (that will hopefully make you think of him whenever you hear them!). pay attention to the lyrics, because he might be trying to tell you something with them… :))

i feel like there would be some subtle signs that graves took an interest in you…

- if you have any snacks or candy on you, he’s nonchalantly stepping right beside you and doing that “underhand-behind-the-back” gesture for you to shake some into his palm. (sometimes he imagines that’s what your lips taste like- omg who said that???)

- he let you wear his jacket during an operation where you were in the freezing cold outside for an extensive amount of time. he watched you shiver through your orders, trying your best to be a good soldier for him :( he walked up to you and draped his shadow company jacket over your shoulders (which smelled deliciously like him) and flashed you that toothy grin. “you look like you’re ‘bout to get frostbite, soldier. take this.” (he was definitely thinking of some other ways that he could warm you up…)

- he took his time when he read through your file, and wow, it looks like your city’s professional football team rivals his. it’s the perfect way to initiate banter with you. he’ll be giving you a hard time about it for sure, and maybe he’ll make some interesting bets with you depending on how well the season’s going ;)

[wayward-stardust]

been thinking about how none of the adults in the isat party really had any plans for after defeating the king. it wasn't just siffrin! even as early as acts one and two, it's hinted at if you pay close enough attention to the dialogue.

isabeau brings up his dream of becoming a clothing designer exactly once: in loop zero. before fighting the king. when the thought of actually winning is still a hope rather than a reality.

as soon as that happens, his story changes.

he plans on taking up his old job again. the one he quit to support mira. the one he said he wouldn't go back to, in a timeline that's been long since overwritten. which may feel like a contradiction, but a) this isabeau never had that first conversation with sif and b) the atmosphere's completely shifted with everything else that's happened over the past day.

isa's supposed to be the rock of the party (pun intended). the emotional support. and now, he's supposed to be celebrating their victory, and ruining the mood by admitting he's not going back to anything meaningful would be breaking the persona he's worked so hard to craft. (also this dialogue occurs immediately after isa fails to confess to siffrin, which might have affected his mindset)

and even in that first scene, back at the favor tree in loop zero, isabeau's still unsure of himself.

he willingly admits to sif that he, too, doesn't have anything else planned for after. (in act one, where it's so easy to forget by the time sif actually succeeds). why would he? his closest friends are traveling with him. he's not particularly close with his blood family (especially after his change, i imagine, although he never talks about them enough to say for certain.) he abandoned his career that he no longer likes.

mirabelle, on the other hand, is very committed to staying a housemaiden. her original plan (in act one) for after is to start traveling again and go on her own pilgrimage. but, to me, it's never really felt like that's what she wanted to do, but more like what she felt she had to do.

she needs to go on a pilgrimage to change. because she's a housemaiden, which means prioritizing change, and she's already not dating and not getting bonded and not capital-c Changing so she has to make up for that elsewhere, and if even this whole journey to save vaugarde didn't change her she has to try harder, (and what she wants is to keep traveling with her friends but she's not going to admit that,) and... and so she has to!

even so, like isabeau, those initial goals fade away once she's actually defeated the king.

her dreams of continuing to travel and see the world and change things are replaced with just... staying at home. living in dormont. going back to her normal life. maybe, we can hope, part of that's because of the conversations she's had along the way — either her friendquest with siffrin or the whole "not being blessed by the change god" snack room discussion, alongside euphrasie's praise of her. maybe she's grown more comfortable with her relationship with her faith and her home (particularly in a friendquest run).

or maybe she's like isabeau and siffrin, wanting more out of her future but being unwilling to potentially sour the mood by asking for it. i suspect it's both, actually: she gets some character growth from the finale of her journey, but there's no way all her feelings of inadequacy can be erased in a day. she knows better than to actually admit that, though: after all, everyone else seems happy with their plans! they're the odd one out here!

madame odile’s the only one who keeps her story straight between iterations — no matter when siffrin asks her, she's still deciding whether to keep traveling or go home to ka bue.

(act 1 "what will you do after" conversation)

(act 2/3/4 end room conversation)

but, as she brings up at the end of act 5, that's not the whole story. she'd prefer to keep traveling with at least some of the others, but the whole group’s a bunch of blinding cowards she hasn’t found the right time to ask yet. unlike isabeau and mirabelle (particularly the post-King versions of them), odile's not hiding the fact that she's unsure of her plans. after all, she's more confident in herself and her goals: in fact, she's already succeeded at her goal of learning more about vaugarde.

like the two of them, though, there's still the uncertainty. the not being confident in what to do next. the thought of going home feels like an afterthought, almost. isabeau even says it, in act five.

it's what they "should" do next. what they're expected to do. what they all think everyone else wants to do.

but none of them really want to go home.

not siffrin, without a home to go back to. not odile, both ka buan and vaugardian by blood but never finding a true home in either. not mirabelle, growing beyond the home that she never felt comfortable in. not isabeau, leaving behind his home because he didn't like the person he was there.

or maybe they do want to go home — or more precisely, to stay there.

home is where your family is, after all.

[tbaluver]

When You Randomly Turn Into A Cat- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader synopsis: a day where you randomly turn into a cat and how they love and deep space men would take care and spend the day with you ! genre: silly and cute a/n: hihi lovelies! sorry this took so long to write i had to channel in all the cat videos i loved and seen and put it into each scenario for each men ! (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i also had to make sure some cat facts were true or not just in case and also because i don't own a cat but i rlly want one (•ᴗ•,, ) i hope you all enjoy ! ^•ﻌ•^ฅ♡ If any new readers are here you can read where the men turn into cats here; When They Turn Into Cats any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier /ᐠ˵- ᴗ -˵マ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 :

Xavier wasn't particularly shocked that you would turn into a cat but truly surprised him was the timing of it. You both speculated that his transformation one time might be linked to his recent handling of a Protocore and it would eventually spread to you. He just didn't anticipate that this would happen in the middle of a mission. Fortunately, he managed to defeat the remaining Wanderers, scooping you up along with your clothes, and bring you both safely back home.

There were no answers on the internet on what to do when your partner turns into a cat. He doesn't understand how you did so well when you took care of him when he randomly turned into one. He only wishes that he can do the same for you as you did with him.

The first step Xavier does is search for any leftover cat food but finds nothing so he takes you along to the grocery store. He'll gently place you in the baby seat of the shopping cat, determined to find the best options for you. He scrutinizes every brand of cat food and snack, carefully considering what you might like. To ensure you would have everything you could possibly need, he ends up buying far more than necessary, his cart basically overflowing with a mountain of cat supplies.

When you both return home, there is no doubt that Xavier showers you with affection. He lavishes you with cuddles and kisses in between your ears. He finds your feline form to be cute and can't help but pet you, his fingers gently brushing through your soft fur. You enjoy in the soothing touch, arching your back in contentment as he continues his gentle caress. The two of you settle into a cozy spot for nap, as he drifts off to sleep to the comforting rhythm of your adorable purrs and you fall asleep to his gentle caress. You've always been a source of comfort for him and you still are even in this tiny cat form.

Xavier can't help but feel a little jealous when he finds you curled up on the plushies that he won you in the claw machine, instead of you nestled comfortably on his lap or cradled in his arms. It stings a little to see you so content with the plushie and wishes that it was him to provide you with that comfort. Same thing when you knead your plushies with your paws, he can't help but feel envy, wishing that direct attention was towards him instead.

To keep you entertained as a cat, Xavier downloads a few interactive cat games on his phone. He places the phone down, allowing you to paw at the moving images and you pretend as if you were catching them. Another way he can play with you is using playful revenge on your plushies. He watches with amusement as you pounce and swat at the plush toys, your antics providing both of you with entertainment.

Whenever Xavier grabs a snack, he makes sure you feel included in the moment. He helps you to select a treat you want to try by holding it out and shares it with you, making sure you have your own little snack to enjoy alongside with him.

When it was night time and time for bed, even though both of you took several naps the entire day, he prepares for bed. He settles beside you, gently reaching out to stroke your fur with a soothing touch. Carefully, he pulls the blanket up, tucking it around the both of you to create a comfy cocoon. As he holds you clos, he presses tender kisses to the top of your head. "Goodnight honey. No matter what form you're in, you'll always be my partner for life." He whispers, eagerly waiting for the morning to come so you'll be back in your human form.

Zayne /ᐠ - ˕ -マ :

It was Zayne’s day off and he was in the kitchen, preparing a delicious and nutritious meal for the two of you. Meanwhile, you were in the living room, browsing through DVDs or anything you can find on the TV to watch for your movie marathon. You both chatted back and forth while he worked in the kitchen as you continued to browse in the living room until minutes ticked by and he noticed you were quiet. Out of curiosity, he peeks through the kitchen and sees the living room empty. He calls out for you but he is met with no response. A wave of concern washes over him as he quickly turns off the stove and makes his way to the living room to find a bewildered cat.

He sighs deeply, knowing this all too well. He had experienced this bizarre transformation himself not too long ago. A smile creeps up on his lips as he crouches down, extending a hand to your feline form. “I guess I have to make a different lunch for you now.” He murmurs as you brush against his hand.

He’ll find the cat food that you fed him when he once turned into a cat randomly one day and he’ll feed that to you. He knows that the mixed kibble was unappetizing but as he scooped up a portion and placed it in front of you, he gave you a reassuring soft smile. He gently pats your head, his fingers brushing through your fur to offer some reassurance as you hesitantly ate the food. As you eat, he promises that he’ll buy you some yummy foods when you’re back to normal.

Since it was his day off, he'll finish up any chores around the house. He gathered all the freshly laundered clothes out of the dryer as you trailed after him. When he sets the basket down in your shared room, you couldn't resist the inviting warmth of the freshly dried clothes and hopped right into the basket. You nestled inside the fluffy pile, your body curling up into it. The warmth and softness was irresistible and not too long you find yourself drifting off into sleep. His gaze would soften when he finally notices you inside of the basket, smiling fondly at the sight. He scoops you up, cradling you carefully before placing you gently on your shared bed.

Once he finished folding the clothes, he returned to you. Your eyes slowly flutters open and to help ease you into waking up, he carefully extends your limbs, stretching your front paws upwards.

Zayne would make sure to play with you so you're not bored the entire day. Sometimes when he has do some other chores, he'll leave the TV on so you can go watch. Or he'll gather a selection of plushies you both had won from the claw machine and toss them around as you pounce and batted at the plushies. If you weren't feeling the plushies anymore, he'll reach for the laser pointer he uses for panel discussions and watches in amusement as you chase it around.

Although it was his day off, he still chooses to do a couple hospital reports. While he's busy typing away on the computer, he lets you curl into his lap as he finishes up his work. Despite his best efforts to stay concentrated, you made it a habit of hopping in front of his computer, inserting yourself in front of him to grab his attention. It seems your stubbornness remains even if you were a cat because this goes on for a couple of minutes. "Behave." He would gently scoop you back into his lap or nudge you aside and you would end up back in front of his computer, blocking his hands from typing on his keyboard. It was impossible to ignore you, melting at the small feline form in front of him. Folding, his hands instinctively find their way to scratch the back of your ears. He would take this as a sign to finally take a break and enjoy his day off with you, even if you were a cat.

As nightfall arrived, you trailed after him into the bathroom where he began his nightly routines. You were perched on the counter, watching him do your skin care routine that you both normally do. He made sure you felt included, using a small brush and gently groomed your fur.

He scoops you up after he finishes his routine and carried you to the bedroom. He places a gentle kiss between your ears, right on the top of your head. He placed you gently onto the bed, arranging the covers and settles beside you. "Even though you're adorable as a cat," he murmurs softly, "I miss you. Come back soon, my love." He whispers, eagerly waiting for morning to come when you return back to your human form.

Rafayel ฅᨐฅ :

A wave of emotions washed over him. Fear. Panic. Uneasiness. His lover has turned into something he had feared the most. A wanderer? No. Worse. A cat. What gods has he upset for this too happen? Why must he go through so much feline presence in his life? For him to be one and now you?

Rafayel would snap out of his daze as you began to nuzzle against his legs. Slowly, he'd start to come to terms with the idea of having you as a cat for a day might not be as daunting as he initially feared. Nuzzling against his legs gave him a reassuring contact of your soft fur and helped him realize that you wouldn't do anything to harm him. You were still his caring and beloved partner and he will continue to love you even if you were a cat. It wouldn't be so bad or so he thought.

In this cat form it seems you have the zoomies. He expected you to be a laid back cat but instead, you had turned his entire day into a constant adventure. Not only are you darting around the house with enthusiasm but you're also sneaking into every nook and cranny. You've slipped in behind shelves, climbing into fragile small statues around his studio, and even perching on the edges of delicates vases.

Rafayel would constantly be on the move, trying to keep up with your mischief. One time you had darted into the kitchen cabinets, where all his expensive glassware was located. You refused to come down despite his pleas and he wonders if you were just being stubborn or if you were just having too much fun teasing him. When he manages to catch you, he wraps you into a blanket, like a burrito to keep you still. He smirks as you meow in protest and he returns to his painting, chatting with you softly as he works.

When you're finally out of your zoomies, he'll let you go from the blanket but he'll only regret that later. You approach him, holding out a fish plushie and he thought you were hungry but truly you just wanted to play. "Hey fish aren't food!" He huffs, a pout forming on his lips as he gently removes the plushie from your mouth and crosses his arms in mock disapproval. "I want my cutie back....this cat is slowly turning her into a monster....."

He'll take this as a sign to go find you some food. Food that isn't fish related. He'll make sure to find something that's good and the best rated cat food for you.

Whenever there a fly or bug that made its way into his studio, Rafayel would make you help to catching it. In your human form, you'd be squeamish about dealing with insects and would leave the tasks to him. But now since you're a cat, you're fascinated by the challenge of catching it. He would gently lift you into the air, holding you up so high so you could get a better shot at the tiny intruders. He'll give you a mix of encouragement and amusements as you grab the bugs with your paws.

You are Rafayel's muse and he's determined to keep you in that role. He'll position you on a stool where you stand tall, ready to be the subject of his art. You meow in protest, growing fatigued but he urges you to stay still just for a little longer. The finished sketches of you s a cat turned out to be truly adorable once you see them later. You don't know how he's so uneasy around cats.

As nightfall came around, he settles beside you in bed. Typically you would be curled up together, foreheads against each other but tonight is different with your smaller, feline form. He stays close, tenderly brushing your fur as if it were your hair. His eyes were growing heavy with sleep and he whisper softly, "No matter if you're a cat, a goose, or anything else, my heart's deepest wish is to be with you in every form in every life time. Sleep well my beloved. I shall see you again in the morning."

Sylus ≽^-˕-^≼ :

Sylus would be informed by Mephisto that you turned into a cat. He was initially be taken aback but quickly settled into a knowing smile, knowing this experience of a similar transformation himself. He would immediately find you and when he does, he tries his best not to snicker from how amusing this was but it came out anyway. It seems you have taken the nickname Kitten, a little to seriously. You would protest in meows and his snicker would turn into a louder laugh and your cat ears turn into airplane mode.

He reaches for his phone and scoops you up to settle you into his lap. He adjusts the screen so it was perfectly angled for you to also see as his other free hand gently stroked your fur. He scrolled through various stores, adding items to his cart with things you might enjoy or need in this temporary form. He'll know you were interested in it when you paw at the screen, lowly chuckling in amusement as you do so. Not wanting to leave your side, he orders Luke and Kieran to pick up what he ordered.

You didn’t think it would be even possible for this man to be more affectionate with you even if you were a cat. He would pepper your head and nose with lots of kisses and he would find it even more amusing when you would place your paw on his mouth to stop. He doesn’t listen and continues to do so anyway, finding this cat form of you to be adorable. He also loves to brush his fingertips against your paw/ toe beans. He’s careful to not apply too much pressure on them so he doesn’t hurt you.

Mephisto may not be your biggest fan ever in your human form, but he's definitely not warming up to you as a cat either. In this cat form of yours, you have an enhanced agility that helps you jump and try to catch him on his perch. Your attempts to chase him around the house seem to get intense that Sylus had to step in and separate you two so you both can behave.

In this cat form, it seems as your cat senses heightened, driving you to explore the house in new ways you haven’t before. You find yourself climbing onto high shelves and underestimating just how high up you were up. Sylus noticing your predicament, he would sigh and grab a basket to help you climb down. However, your fear of falling to your demise, you meow in protest as you tremble at the idea.

You tried to place a paw into the basket, in hopes to provide a safe descent but looking down and how light the basket was, made you freeze in place. You backed away and retreated further into the shelf. “It’s okay. I got you,” He would reassure you, his voice calm and soothing. Despite his efforts of holding the basket out for you to jump into, you continued to meow in protest, clearing preferring the direct approach of being lifted down by his hands instead. He finally caught on when you ignored his third attempt with the basket and instead reached out with his hands as you crawled towards his forearms. Once you are finally safe in his arms, he strokes your fur with tender care. He lets out a soft sigh, “You really don’t want to make it easy for me don’t you kitten?” He murmurs, "meow."

When it was dinner time, you'd perch on the kitchen counter beside Sylus, watching with curious eyes as he hummed contentedly while preparing his meal before preparing your cat meal. He carefully selects the best rated cat food, ensuring it was packed with essential nutrients and vitamins. After serving you with the cat food, he would spoil you with a few tasty cat treats, hoping they would be a little more enjoyable for you than the cat food. His attention to your needs will always be attentive even if you were a cat.

After you both settled into bed, Sylus lies on his back, inviting you to curl up on his chest. As your eyes fluttered close, a content purr rumbles through your body and he can feel the gentle vibrations against him. He strokes your fur tenderly, his own eyes heavy with sleep. He murmurs as he wishes you a goodnight, "Goodnight princess. I hope to see you in my dreams and see you back in my arm again when I wake up."