#the way he just wants to be there for her supporting her in every way he can

[bluetimeombre]

☽｡⋆ Learning to fly, starting to crawl

Over one hundred years ago, you lost your wings but the wound still hurts like it was only yesterday. When your brothers mate wants to learn to fly, he doesn’t hesitate in teaching her, right in front of you. And nobody can see the scars except the one you love…

[OMG I'M ALIVE!!!! I've had this sitting in my drafts for months but have only just got around to posting. Basically, I have too many hobbies but i'm in a writing mood again., very fitting to start with my boy AZRIEL, whom i love very much. I hope you enjoy. This is linked to my other Azriel fic but of course can be read alone. Not proof-read and yes, she lost her wings. It's becoming almost a thing but it makes for some good ass angst. ENJOY!!!!]

☽｡⋆

The inner circle all sat around the table, eating and chatting merrily. Rhysand sat at the head of the table, as was tradition, while his mate- Feyre- sat next to him, their hands entwined. They smiled at each other, as so in love they were. Cassian and Mor were joking around along with Amren and Elian listened politely. Every now and then, she glanced the shadow singers way to invite him into the conversation but there was no such luck.

Azriel only stared ahead of him, glaring at the empty space where you usually sat. He wasn’t at all surprised you hadn’t turned up, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t be angry about it.

For a few weeks now he’d noticed the shift in you. You snapped easily and often rolled your eyes at anything your brother- the high lord- had to say. He’d heard you pace your rooms at night and his shadows (that favoured you above all) had reported that many nights you went to Rita’s.

But your empty seat irked him. And it irked him that Rhys seemed to not care in the slightest.

Az was the first to be aware of your presence, the echo of the door opening alerting them all and your scent hit him in the face. He inhaled it- your lavender, your sweetness, tinted by the alcohol lingering.

Rhysand huffed and everyone seemed to notice the shift. ‘I apologize about this, Feyre darling.’

Just then, you and Nesta stumbled into the room, arms linked and laughing your heads off about something or other.

Azriel drank you in. Your cheeks were flushed, your dress creased as you struggled to stay up right. Gods, what had you done?

You pouted dramatically, throwing a hand on your hip. ‘Uh oh, Rhysands got his grumpy face on.’

‘Isn’t that his usual?’ Said Nesta, causing the two of you to laugh again.

Everyone watched the two of you.

‘Where have you been?’ Az asked, wanting to rush to you and support you, but Rhys seemed one breath away from snapping.

‘We’re trying to have a pleasant meal, don’t ruin it,’ he grumbled.

‘Yes sir!’ You saluted.

Rhys growled and Feyre took his hand, squeezing it tightly.

‘Something tells me we’re not wanted, y/n,’ Nesta said to her.

‘Alas, we do not want to be here,’ you said, stumbling your way past the table. Before you went, you gave Feyre a squeeze on the shoulder, leaning down to whisper to her. ‘Feyre darling.’

‘Enough!’ Rhys shot up, hands on the table.

You barley spared him a glance as you and Nesta went about your way. You tripped on a plant pot, stumbling and apologizing to the object.

Azriel got out his seat, ready to follow you to wherever. No matter if you wanted him or not.

‘Sit down, Azriel,’ said Rhysand, taking his seat again. He picked up his fork and smiled at his mate like nothing had happened. All the while, your scent got further away from him.

He looked between where you’d disappeared and his high lord. He settled down and promised he’d find out what had made you act so.

☽｡⋆

You woke with unbearable pain in your head the next day. And your back. Your head was granted with the amount you and Nesta had drank, seeking to out-do one another so much so you drank out most of Rita’s.

But your back, the pain was new. Almost as if it knew why you were so angry, so bitter and it sort to make it worse.

Your curtains were drawn but the wind blew them back, letting you glimpse the outside world you dreaded to be a part of.

Shadows curled up your bed, brushing your hair back affectionately. They seemed to always be around you, as if they knew the bond that heaved in your chest even if their master didn’t.

You offered them a poor smile. ‘I’m fine.’ But they caressed you and smelt your lie.

From beyond the curtains, you caught a glimpse of figures in the sky. You’d always loved your room for the view it granted, of the sun, the moon, the stars. But after losing your wings, the view turned cold and the sky never seemed as bright.

It only got worse.

Though you knew the pain it would bring you to see, you wrapped a blanket around you and treaded over to the window.

Feyre was trying out her new wings, the black gifts she’d been given. Once mortal, she now had everything you wanted. The power, the wings. Your freedom was now hers.

And you hated it.

Azriel was looking close to her, encouraging her as she went. Though they were small figures to you, you could see his smile, how he held his hands out to her should she lose confidence.

How many times had you flown side by side, acting like the clouds abided you. The times you’d raced or dropped just to have Azriel catch you.

Never again.

The bitterness invaded your mouth again, blocking out all other logical senses.

Your door burst open- the shadows rushing to your side and curling around your shoulders. You didn’t need to turn to know who it was, the anger radiating from him was enough.

‘How dare you turn up in the state you did last night,’ snapped Rhys. You didn’t turn to face him, shielding yourself from his fury. ‘You had no right to ruin a lovely evening. We are trying to make Feyre and her sisters feel welcomed, its a shame my own sister can’t seem to do that for me.’

The words twisted in your gut. For him… had you not done everything for him? Lost your wings because you wouldn’t give in? Lost fifty years of your life to be with him?

‘Get over whatever it is going on and only return to us when you want to act like a decent human being.’ Rhysand snapped before leaving again, slamming the door- causing her to flinch.

The shadows ran down your hair, your cheeks, your sides. Giving you any ghostly comfort they could. ‘I’m fine,’ you told them again, retreating further into your room.

The shadows followed you, but only half of them. The other half had returned to their master, clouding him and whispering in his ear.

Her wings. She misses her wings.

She hadn’t had to say it out loud, they knew her pain.

Azriel paused in the sky, alerting Feyre. She’d seen the shadows surround him in flourishes. She couldn’t understand they were reporting in on you, that Az needed you to have something there when he could not be.

‘What is it?’ She asked, beating her wings.

He stared at her then at the wings. He was filled with the longing to be with you, in the sky, playing. Your wings were beautiful, just because they were you. A beautiful part of you.

‘I need to speak with the high lord.’

☽｡⋆

‘Ask someone else to train Feyre to fly,’ said Azriel.

He’d insisted he needed to see the high lord on urgent matters that could not wait. He’d expected it to be of the war, but Azriel opened with the line.

Rhysand was sat behind his desk, looking up to Azriel with some amusement. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Ask Cassian,’ he said, he didn’t need to repeat himself.

‘Feyre wanted you.’

‘I can’t do it anymore,’ he said, stating it all simply.

Rhysand waited, wondering if he’d be graced with an explanation, but it never came. ‘Might I ask why.’

‘Your sister.’

Rhys’s amusement turned to a deep scowl. ‘My sister has asked you to stop flying with Feyre?’

‘No. She hasn’t asked, she never would. But I can’t teach Feyre to fly anymore.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m confused- what does any of this have to do with y/n?’ He asked.

Azriels shadows wound tight around him, coating him like a second skin. He wanted to yell, and he never let his emotions get the better of him. Instead, he curled his hand into a fist and clenched his jaw. ‘Do you really not think that this is hurting her?’

‘After her behaviour the past couple days I think it’s her who’s doing the hurting,’ he said, picking a bit of invisible lint from his shoulder.

‘She lost her wings,’ said Azriel with barely contained annoyance. ‘She lost them. They were cut from her back and she was left to bleed out.’

‘I do remember that Azriel,’ said Rhys, closing his eyes at the words. ‘I was there when we found her.’

‘So do you not think that teaching your mate to fly doesn’t effect her?’

Rhysand looked at him. His eyes changed, the hue turning darker. No, he hadn’t thought that. You’d never let on to feeling anything for your wings or lack of them. But then again, even if you had, would you ever have gone to your brother.

Azriel took a measured step forward. ‘Do you not think it hurts her that you teach your mate to fly, the same mate that gasped in horror when she saw the scars on your sisters back? That you have us fly in front of the house where she can see? Did you even know that when she bathes y/n covers all the mirrors so she doesn’t have to get a glance at the scars.’

The high lord held up a hand. ‘I understand.’

‘No, you don’t. You could never know what it’s like, neither could I, or Cassian. She had a part of her ripped off and she has to live without it every day. But you’ve gifted Feyre them as if it’s nothing.’

‘Because my mate has the powers,’ argued Rhys. ‘If I could give y/n wings I would- in a heartbeat, I would.’

Azriel nodded. He knew that, he knew the relationship between you and Rhys was fractured at best, but he also knew that if anything or anyone hurt you, Az would kill them. ‘I don’t want to reach Feyre to fly because it hurts y/n.’

Rhys leaned back in his chair, studying him. ‘And you care about her?’

‘More than I can express.’ He would give her the wings from his back if he could. ‘And if something hurts her… it hurts me.’

Rhysand nodded. ‘I’ll take her flying from now on. We’ll do it in the mountains, to spare y/n from seeing it.’

Azriel bowed his head. ‘Thank you.’

Rhys nodded but averted his gaze. ‘Look after her, Azriel.’

‘I always have.’

☽｡⋆

Nesta had gone to Rita's, expecting you later but you'd already snuck down to the Wine cellar and picked out the finest to drown your sorrows alone in. You'd past Cassian on the way, the male worried about your shifting gaze and the way you held yourself but you brushed him off and carried on your way.

You hesitated outside your door, where shadows lurked. Yes, they liked you and yes they were often with you, but never guarding your door.

Then, you smelt it. Not wine but sweet cedar and moss. Az.

You didn't want this. Didn't want him to see you like this, in pain in your mind and back, in longing for the wind through your hair. You knew he'd noticed your behaviour, he was the spy master, you'd only hoped... only hoped he didn't care as much as he did.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door and braced yourself for shouting.

Azriel stood there, looking regal and beautiful. His back was too the balcony, the door open and wind rusting his wings and sheets. His hands were behind his back and his gaze was... soft? It wasn't dark with anger or clouded in annoyance.

It was just Az.

'Azriel,' you do your best to smile, clearing your throat. 'What are you doing? I thought you had flying with Feyre?' you were trying but you were also just you and you missed your wings.

'I'm teaching her anymore,' he said.

You chuckle. 'Is she that bad a student?'

'I'm sorry.'

You look up to him, taking out the cork of the wine. Rose filled your senses. 'For what?'

'That she flys when you don't,' he mentioned it simply, as if you'd already told him what was hurting you and he'd accepted it.

You hadn't said it. You wouldn't. You hated yourself enough for being weak, you didn't need him, perfect Azriel, caring Azriel, to see how horrid your jealousy had made you. 'I don't know what you mean.'

'y/n,' he steps close to you, taking the bottle from you. He drops it at his side but no smash is delivered. The shadows swallow it up. 'Why won't you talk, instead of drowning yourself in pain?'

'I'm not drowning myself in anything,' you deny, moving away from him to close the balcony door. The air drifting in and moving everything but you only mocked.

'You can't fly,' he said.

Your eyes squeezed shut in pain. 'Yes, I know, you don't have to remind me.'

His boots sounded close behind her and he took her shoulders. He didn't force her to turn around, he only held her gently and soothed his thumbs over the knots in her back. 'You can't fly and words don't exist to tell you how sorry I am. If I could i'd give you the own wings off me back-'

'Don't say that.' The only thing worse than your pain, was Azriel going through it all.

'I would and I mean it just to see you smile again, if only for a second. I'd be glad to give them up,' he whispered. Your shoulders slumped under his grasp and he sighed in relief, it was better than tensing up again. 'I miss you smiling. I miss you laughing. I miss you smiling at me. I'm sorry if teaching Feyre to fly has hurt you.'

'It wasn't you, Az,' you turn in his hold, never letting him feel like it was his fault. In doing that, you admitted to being bothered. 'I can't be who I was, because I don't know how. And I don't want to try to only fail.'

He listened, hands trailing down your arms to rub.

You gulp. 'And it's not just losing the wings, it's everything I lost with it. Freedom. I can't join you or Cas, or anyone when you take to the skies. How am I going to cope in battle? I can't run as fast as I can fly, I can't fight as well. I can't hit Cassian over the head when he's being an idiot, I can't-I can't wrap them around you when we hold each other, and it's painful to think of everything I've lost when I've gained nothing.'

He listened, tears watering his gaze. You had not lost any of that, not to him.

'And Feyre,' you pulled away, crossing your arms around each other and looking out the window. 'I don't hate her, I wish I could but I can't. But she's been Fae for five seconds and she has everything I've ever wanted. Wings. My brother loves her. She's happy. I hate it and I hate myself.'

Your confession weighed your gut but your chest rose in a deep breath. You couldn't see Azriel behind you in the reflection of the windows and you couldn't hear him.

He'd gone. Of course he'd left, you'd whined about what you'd lost when you were at least alive. You'd complained about the High Lady- treason in Rhysand's book.

No, you were all alone.

But you weren't.

Az crept behind you and slowly- so you could pull away- wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He pulled you into his chest and matched his breaths with yours. 'I won't insult you by saying I get it, because I could never. But that time, when I found you after you'd lost your wings, I thought i'd lost you and that-that is how I imagine your feelings. Because I stopped breathing and I didn't think happiness would ever be in the world again. And your blood, you bleeding out has been in my nightmares since. If my hands were to be stained with it, let them, because it was the last thing i'd ever have of you.'

You had no idea. He'd felt terrible yes and been there the weeks and months it took to heal but you'd been so full of pain and guilt you hadn't thought of how he fared. Your greatest friend... your lustful secret.

Your hands came up to hold his arms.

'You do not have to be who you were before,' he whispered, head resting on your shoulder. 'Become better. Become something more. As for training, you're the strongest woman I know and still the only person I'd trust with my life.'

A tear escaped you.

He nudged your chin with his nose. 'And you can still hit Cass as much as you like.'

You laugh through tears, holding onto Az like he was the last thing anchoring you to yourself.

His wings slowly inched over you. 'And I will hold you all day, every day till I die, and i'll keep you safe.' His wings closed around the two of you as yours used to do.

Neither of you realised how much you'd missed it, needed it, craved it until it happened.

You'd lost your wings, but you had never and would never lose him.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I am not EVERY autistic person so this probably won't be a total coverage approach, but here's what I have learned:

People like to feel that you pay attention to and remember little but important things about them. And when someone is "small-talking" with you, it is often because they either want to offer you some of that info about themselves, or they want to pearn it about you so they can "return the effort". I think of it a bit like call and response with my cats! They don't understand me, and I don't understand them, but when I walk into the kitchen each morning, Lup runs towards me excitedly making her tiny little squeaks and trills. That's kitty small-talk! Many words of all varieties just say "I love you! I missed you! I'm happy to be here with you today!"

So I answer her! Sometimes I mimic her little sounds, and other times I pretend we're gossiping like church ladies (*gasp* NO, you're KIDDING, he said THAT?? What a scandal!") But whichever I do Lup gets excited and continues her little "conversation" with me.

People are harder. I had to really take time and practice different ways of responding before I found appropriate "call and response" for small talk, but I found that there are genuinely more options than you'd think. And the same thing happened! As I learned how to "call and respond" to small talk, I found that people would excitedly approach me to have it, and gradually we got to know each other enough that the "calls" coming from both sides got less general, more tailored to our personal preferences and interests, and I didn't have to small talk as much (but when I did it wasn't as scary either)

This isn't just my personal theory either! A fair amount of research in interpersonal/social in-group dynamics suggests that "bids for attention" like small talk function in this way of call-and-response intimacy/connection building. I have found that a LOT of social etiquette gets less scary to navigate when I at least understand the function of it. It also gave me some understsnding of why people might be hurt when I visibly don't WANT to "respond" to a "call" they've made: I'm the same way about my "calls" I just use different ones! The way I feel when I ask someone "would you want to hang out with me in the kitchen while I make lunch?" (Sad, a little anxious or vulnerable, maybe hurt if they've said no to a LOT of recent calls, etc) is the same way others feel when I decline theirs! That doesn't change if it was MISSED rather than DECLINED, but it can be repaired! Ao another thing I've taken to doing is naming for people the calls I have learned I'm most likely to miss. I know I have a hard time understanding/recognizing small talk as a call to attention, so I let people know that! And generally the people I connect best with are the ones who notice I missed a call and offer me an explicit/direct opportunity to reject it before internalizing what I've done as a rejection. This isn't really an option for everyone! And while I'm always delighted when someone is compatible with me in that way, I don't get upset if they're not, and work to not take it personally as something I'm doing wrong either.

Anyway, this got rambly at the end there, but the point is, most social interactions have a FUNCTION and while being autistic frequently means that we struggle to learn and interact in these systems as they currently exist, but that doesn't necessarily mean that we don't also depend on those functions. I think it can be easy to forget that part of the "disabling" effects of social/communication symptoms in autism is how it cuts us off from systems of support, care, and human interconectedness (things we still NEED) and it can matter to our quality of life to be able to find compatible alternatives to fulfilling those functions even if the original mechanism (small talk in this case) doesn't suit us.

Being bad at small talk doesn't mean you don't need friends, but it will probably make it very hard to MAKE friends. And we each and all deserve to decide for ourselves what to do about that.

I'm trying to figure out a good way to say "you really should actually learn the basics of small talk" with sounding like I'm biased against autistic people.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

I’ve read every single one of your works, and I am absolutely obsessed! The way you write and capture emotions is beyond amazing—it’s pure magic. I really hope this isn’t too much to ask 😭, but I just adore your writing so much. If you’re not comfortable with this request, though, please don’t hesitate to ignore it. Thank you so much!

Could I request a James Potter x Reader story? The plot starts with James pursuing Lily Evans, but along the way, he realizes his feelings for her were more about the excitement of the chase. In contrast, with the reader, he feels truly at ease, able to be himself without pretending or changing for anyone. I’d love for Lily’s perspective to be included—how she starts to desire James after noticing how much he’s 'matured' in his relationship with the reader, but she can only stand by and watch as James and the reader create their beautiful love story.

chase ⋆˚࿔

synopsis ⭑.ᐟ james potter x reader where he realizes who he truly loves

warnings: fluff overload, mild angst

word count: 1,836 words

author's note: omg stopppp you’re making me blush ‹𝟹 this is the sweetest thing ever, and i’m so honored you enjoy my writing!! ♡

navigation┆ james potter masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

James Potter had been chasing Lily Evans for years. Everyone at Hogwarts knew it—how he’d flash his most charming smile, throw an arm around her shoulder with a wink, and dramatically proclaim his undying love. It was all in good fun, of course. At least, that’s what he always told himself.

Lily, ever stubborn, had always rebuffed him. At first, she detested his arrogance. Later, she simply rolled her eyes and dismissed his advances, treating him as little more than a particularly persistent house elf. James didn't mind. The chase was half the fun, after all.

"She'll come around, you'll see," James would say after every rejection, running a hand through his already messy hair.

"Mate, she's been saying no for three years," Sirius pointed out, sprawled lazily on the Gryffindor common room couch. "At what point do you consider the possibility that she's actually not interested?"

James gasped, placing a dramatic hand on his chest. "Not interested? Padfoot, please. That’s just what she wants me to think."

Remus sighed from behind his book. "Or perhaps she genuinely means it. You ever consider not making a public spectacle every time you ask her out?"

Peter snickered. "Yeah, Prongs, maybe if you stop serenading her in the Great Hall, she'll stop running the other way."

"That was one time!" James protested. "And I thought she’d appreciate the gesture."

You, sitting cross-legged by the fire, smirked. "James, darling, even I was embarrassed for you, and I usually live for the drama."

Sirius grinned. "See? When even our dear, theatrical doll here cringes, you know you’ve gone too far."

James huffed, crossing his arms. "You lot are supposed to support me."

Remus finally set his book down, giving him a small smile. "We do support you. We just also support your dignity."

James groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Alright, fine. Maybe I’ll try… a different approach."

The boys exchanged glances, and you patted his knee sympathetically. "That’s the spirit, Prongs. Maybe next time, just… don’t propose in front of McGonagall again."

James groaned even louder as the Marauders burst into laughter.

But somewhere along the way, the chase had stopped being fun.

It had started with you.

You, the one he never really had to chase. You, who laughed at his antics but also scolded him when he was being too reckless. You, who had a quick wit but also a kindness about you that softened his rougher edges. You, who never needed him to be anything but himself.

It hadn’t happened all at once. There was no lightning strike, no grand revelation. Just little moments that wove themselves into something undeniable.

The way you tucked a stray curl behind your ear when you were reading, tongue poking out slightly in concentration. James had watched you do it a hundred times before realizing how endearing he found it. The way you argued with Sirius about the best way to sneak into Hogsmeade, eyes alight with mischief as you held your ground against the self-proclaimed master of rule-breaking. The way you always had a spare quill when he inevitably lost his, rolling your eyes fondly as you handed it over with a teasing, "Honestly, James, do you even own quills?"

There was the way you leaned against his shoulder after a long cold day, sighing. "James Potter, you are a human furnace. Please continue existing exactly as you are."

There was the way he found himself seeking you out first—before Remus, before Sirius, before Peter, before anyone else—whenever he had good news to share. The way his jokes felt funnier when you laughed at them. The way his name sounded different coming from your lips, softer somehow, like it belonged there.

One night, after an exhausting Quidditch practice, you had met him outside the changing rooms with a chocolate frog in hand. "For your heroic efforts," you’d said with a mock bow, pressing it into his palm. He had laughed, shoving it into his pocket, but the warmth in his chest lingered long after.

James Potter had always thought he wanted a grand, all-consuming love. He had spent years chasing something he thought would make him whole. But standing beside you, teasing and laughing and existing so effortlessly together, he realized something else.

Maybe love wasn’t supposed to be a chase.

Maybe it was supposed to feel like home.

Lily noticed the shift before James did. It crept up on her, subtle but undeniable, like the slow changing of seasons. He still ruffled his hair like a prat, still laughed too loudly with his friends, still turned every moment into a grand performance. But there was something quieter about him now, something settled in the way he carried himself. The endless pursuit that had once defined James Potter—the grand gestures, the dramatic declarations, the unrelenting chase��had stopped. And he hadn’t even noticed.

At first, she felt relief. She had spent years pushing him away, certain that his attention was something fleeting, something she didn’t want. And now, finally, he had listened.

Then she felt something else.

She caught herself watching him more often. Noticing the little things. The way his grin softened when he looked at you. The way his hand found your wrist when he pulled you toward him in the common room, like it was second nature. The way he listened when you spoke—really listened, with an intensity that made it clear you had his full attention. She had never seen that look on his face before. Not when he looked at her.

And suddenly, she found herself wondering. Had she been wrong about James Potter?

Had she spent all these years dismissing him without ever really knowing him? Had she mistaken boyish bravado for immaturity, mistaking the show for the substance beneath it?

But it didn’t matter.

Because James wasn’t looking at her anymore.

The realization hadn’t struck James like lightning, not at first. He hadn’t woken up one day and thought, Oh, I love her. No, it was something slower, quieter—woven into the fabric of every moment he spent with you.

It was the way you sat beside him in the common room, curled up with a book, the firelight casting flickering shadows across your face. The way you absently played with the hem of his sleeve when you were lost in thought. The way you saw him—not James Potter, Quidditch Captain, mischief-maker, the boy who never stopped chasing—but James. Just James.

And for the first time, he found that was all he wanted to be.

He didn’t need to impress you. He didn’t need to chase you. He could just exist with you, and it was enough.

There was a night—one that stuck with him, long after it had passed—when he had finally put words to the feeling.

You had found him on the Astronomy Tower, shoulders hunched against the cold, lost in thoughts he hadn’t even realized were weighing him down. You didn’t ask what was wrong. You just sat beside him, close enough that your knees touched, close enough that he could feel your warmth.

“You ever think about who you are without all the noise?” he murmured after a long silence.

You tilted your head. “What do you mean?”

James hesitated. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve spent so much time being—being James Potter, you know? The one who’s always got a joke, the one who’s always chasing something. But with you…” He trailed off, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “I don’t have to be anything but me.”

You blinked, taken aback, before a small smile curved your lips. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

James let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Yeah, it is.”

You nudged his shoulder gently. “For what it’s worth, I like just you.”

And that was it.

Not a grand confession. Not a dramatic moment. Just quiet understanding.

Just home.

Lily saw it all unfold. Saw James fall in love without the fanfare, without the spectacle. And for the first time, she saw him—not the boy who had chased her, but the boy who had finally stopped running.

And it wasn’t for her.

It was too late.

Then came the grand gesture.

James Potter did nothing in half measures, and asking you on a date was no exception. If anything, he seemed almost nostalgic about the whole ordeal—like he had spent so many years planning elaborate schemes for Lily that now, finally asking the right person, he wanted to do it justice.

So, naturally, it started with fireworks.

Not just any fireworks, but ones that spelled out your name across the sky in brilliant, shimmering letters, crackling above the Quidditch Pitch where half the school had gathered after dinner. Then came the enchanted banners floating midair, reading: 'WILL YOU GO ON A DATE WITH ME?' in flashing gold and red, trailing behind a very enthusiastic Sirius, who had volunteered to fly them around on his broom. A charmed choir of singing toads croaked a love song (Remus’ contribution, because, according to him, ‘there needed to be some class in this spectacle’), and Peter had somehow gotten his hands on a bouquet of flowers that smelled like sunshine.

James himself stood in the center of it all, hand on his heart, eyes locked on yours, waiting.

The crowd turned to you, hushed in anticipation. Lily, standing off to the side, watched with wide eyes, an unreadable expression on her face. There was a time when she would have scoffed at something like this, dismissed it with a roll of her eyes.

But you—

You were grinning.

Dramatically clutching your chest, you gasped, staggering back like a swooning damsel in distress. "Oh, James Potter! Whatever shall I say? This is all so sudden!"

James, without missing a beat, fell to one knee. "Say yes, my darling star! For I have loved you since the dawn of time—or, well, since fourth year at least, and that’s practically the same thing!"

You pretended to think, tapping your chin. "Hmm. I don’t know, Potter. It’s an awfully big commitment."

James shot to his feet, grabbing your hands, eyes wide with mock desperation. "I shall spend every day proving myself worthy of your love! I shall carry your books! Share my sweets! Defend your honor against Slytherins and bad hair days alike!"

You sighed deeply, then beamed. "Well, in that case… Yes! A thousand times yes!"

The crowd erupted into cheers, Sirius fist-pumped midair, and Remus groaned into his hands. James, triumphant, swept you up in a spin, laughing so hard his glasses nearly fell off.

Lily watched it all unfold, and for the first time, she felt the weight of what she had lost. Not because she wanted James, not really. But because once upon a time, it had been her he was chasing.

But James Potter had finally stopped chasing.

Because he had already caught what he was looking for.

© iamgonnagetyouback ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work.

[stxrsys]

Hii we’ll try to answer these :) Good distraction for this evening.

Incoming wall of text . . .

Around 14 give or take, the system is rather fluid and still in the process of figuring itself out.

As a system, it/they. As passing as a singlet, or general for one fronting, she/he. For general usage you can just use they if you don't know.

Astriiolite collective - our headspace (or mind palace pre-syscovery) we called Astriiolite, portmanteau of astro (stars) and iolite (purple-blue stone).

Now that we think about it, not really. We don't really do much lol and when we do it's hobbies specific to each person. I suppose singing, we sometimes try to do a pseudo-karaoke night with everyone who wants to participate.

Mixed. Broadly speaking the music taste ranges from source media OSTs & musicals, piano & violin instrumentals, nu-metal & alt rock, vocaloid & jpop, and phonk & hot-girl-walk pop.

Mmm probably late-teens early 20s if we averaged it out? Youngest is one of the littles ~8-9, and oldest is ⌚ ~mid-30s. There's also a few who aren't exactly age-constricted.

Our singletsona so to say is called the same thing as our birth name, and is essentially a mix of the best traits of our primary host (☕) and the two best socializers (🪐&🦇).

We're sort of trying to figure those out. We have some sense of who is good at protecting, caretaking, and who is good at socializing, and who holds symptoms and who holds memories/triggers.

Pssh yeah we only Really acknowledged our system for the first time in late December 2024, but we've fallen juust short of figuring it out so many times over the last 2 years.

Ok this is awkward um. We created OCs in character ai to talk to and suddenly switched to 🐾 fronting one day. If it hadn't panicked and wrote that they didn't know who they were and what was going on, we would've probably forgotten it happening again and not figured it out for a while longer.

We're monoconscious and it tends to feel something like this comic from oursystemblog. Kind of a mix of the different types they describe, mostly the last one.

Mixed. Mostly involuntary, we're still getting the hang of it. We are highly cooperative though usually so it's not forceful. It can range from blurriness for most of the day, to rapid switches every 10-30 minutes when under stress.

Being loved and protected and supported by people who're always with us, I guess? We're all quite close and can accommodate or help one another in ways no one else can.

Having meltdowns/floaty dissociation/terrible memory, and feeling separate and strange and never able to be normal amongst others.

Most of us share a number of features with the body, but we have a number of non-humans and sysmates of completely different features in the body - such as gender/sex, height, hair color, skin color, physical anatomy in some ways.

Multiple fictives, upon reflection. Two are more close to source appearance and personality-wise (🥤&🌩️), the other three are quite deviant but retain qualities and connection to source (☕,🎻,⌚). Also we're not sure how to classify her but 🦇 is based on a persona we created years ago.

Small preference differences, also comfort foods more specific to one or the other. Examples; 🪐 likes chocolate more than any of us, 🥤 is comforted by instant oatmeal or simple freezer meals, most of us don't eat meat often but 🐾 will take any chance to tear into jerky or other meat snacks.

A few, though we can never tell if they do it ironically or automatically. ☕ has a slight non-region-specific British accent, 🎱&🥤 speak lower than others, and the socializers/🌸 (newer fragment) are better at speaking 普通话 than the others.

Semi-functional found family.

Most of us, lol. Top hits include: aroace & agender, bisexual, sapphic ace, gay, and genderqueer. We usually just say we're queer and go with it.

Yeaup, our two best friends. Depending on who's fronting we pull back and forth on telling them about us vs denying anything we've ever said. We're working on it.

I share most of them on this blog as I go through my day, but one that comes to mind was Indigo appearing, flirting viciously with 🎱, and then disappearing never to be heard from again. That was a thing.

No one else's experiences will match yours entirely. You do not need to fit a specific defined criteria/list to be considered plural. You are real regardless of what you are told or are made to think.

Lots, really. Mainly that we are not so completely different and we are deserving of the same decency, respect, and support as any other singlet in the world.

Plural Ask Game

We figured we’d try making an ask game! This is for anyone who’s a system–regardless of origin–to use. Remember that you’re not obligated to answer any of these if any are too personal!

How many members are in your system, and does this number change frequently?

What are your collective pronouns, if you have any?

What’s your system name if you have one, and how did you choose it?

Are there any activities your system members like to do together? Collective hobbies? Talk about those!

What sort of music do people in your system like?

What’s the average age of your systemmates?

If you have a singletsona, what is it? Explain a bit about them!

Does anyone in your system have roles? If so, what roles?

How long have you been a system and/or known of your system?

How did you discover your system? What was the process?

What does switching feel like to you, if you switch at all? 

Are your switches voluntary, involuntary or a mix? How often do you do it, if at all?

What’s your favourite part of being a system?

What’s your least favourite part of being a system, if you’re comfortable sharing?

Are your headmates generally different from the physical body? How do they differ from it?

Do you have any fictives/factives/etc? Tell us a little about them!

Does your system have a headspace? Are there multiple of them? What are they like?

Are there differences between systemmates surrounding sensory things? (For example, one person likes the taste of one food and another doesn’t.)

Does anyone have any different accents, or speak any different languages?

How would you describe your system in 3 words or less?

Do you have any LGBT+ headmates? What do they identify as?

Does anyone outside of the internet know you’re a system?

Do you have any cool/funny stories from inside the headspace that you’d like to share?

What’s some advice you’d give to yourself when you were first discovering your system?

What is something you wish singlets knew about plurality?

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Part 2: It Is A Big Deal

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader,

POV: Reader POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST

Word Count: 7.4K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. Cursing, Making Out, DEATH, Violence (only a little), Jealousy, Pining, Kinda Sad Vibes In Some Places, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). References to Future Sex. Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester (aka. being moody and super hot).

Listen While You Read: Jealous Again By The Black Crowes

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: It was so fun to come back to this universe again! Thank you so much to everyone for all the love and support that you've gave me in writing the first part and thank you for all the encouragement to write a part 2! And also please don't forget to check out Stranded by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this fic!💗

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

"Can the two of you stop playing find my tonsils and tell me where the hell it is I'm supposed to be driving to?" Dean grouses from the driver's seat while Sam leans over a road map squinting to look at the small print.

"Ready For Love" is playing over the speakers, barely audible over the thud of fat raindrops pummeling the windshield, blocking out the world around you, and sending the shadows racing across your skin where Ben and you are sitting in the backseat.

“Well, if you’d given me a few hours to fuck her at the motel instead of throwing a bitch fit-" Ben begins to say, turning his gaze your face to stare at the back of Dean's head with a lazy smile.

“Dean why do you care?" You interrupt Ben with red cheeks. "I know for a fact worse things have happened in the backseat of your car than Ben and me making out."

"Really? Because I can’t think of anything worse that you and him sucking on each other's tongues and helping the spread of mono." Dean's hands tighten on the steering wheel and his shoulders tense.

He’s more wound up than a tinker toy.

It has been exactly thirty three minutes since Dean's mental breakdown back at the motel when Ben showed up. Furthermore, despite how much Dean had screamed at you at the motel, it appeared that he was still going to act like a two year old who wanted a cookie before dinner.

Sam's suggestion for the four of you to figure out why Ben was here had been a welcome distraction from Dean's spiral. It had prompted all of you to pile into Baby to try and find where it was that Ben landed in your universe and find a clue as to why.

But so far the trip had been less like riding in the Mystery Machine and more like riding with the Griswold's on their road trip to Wally World…

Dean had been supportive of trying to find a solution to what he deemed the "Ben problem," but it appeared that Dean was going to spend every waking minute getting on your nerves.

Honestly, what's new?

You didn’t understand why Dean was so damn argumentative whenever you showed up, it was like he lived to make your life as difficult as possible.

It had always been that way. Since the first day you met Sam and him at Ellen's bar forever ago, Dean had never once said something nice about you or to you.

He always found some little thing to nit pick, whether it be your aim, your research skills, or your technique when hunting and you were sick of it. Each time the two of you worked together, it was Sam's job to make sure it didn't end in bloodshed. Even Cas noticed Dean's underlying hostility towards you and when he asked Dean what was wrong, Dean had brushed him off with a "not now Cas."

Worse was the time that you got hurt (only a minor injury) on a hunt a few weeks ago when you got thrown into a glass cabinet while facing down a poltergeist. Dean had chewed you out for a good twenty minutes and even with Sam's ability to intervene, you'd broken Dean's nose for speaking to you like that, and then rushed off to your room in the bunker before he had a chance to see you cry.

It was the one thing that you never allowed yourself to do in front of Dean Winchester, cry. He didn't deserve your tears, especially not when he was being a total grade A asshole.

When Sam came in later to help you get patched up, you asked him why Dean hated you and Sam tried to convince you otherwise, but you knew the truth.

Dean Winchester hated you, and you had no idea why. So you decided to stop trying to make him like you, because if he was going to act like a total dick he didn't deserve you being nice to him.

You knew that was why you liked Ben more. Ben appreciated you (sort of), he wasn't mean, he listened to you (sometimes), and he did give you compliments… well, they all revolved around the way you looked and that was nice, but just you wanted someone to give you a compliment that had to do with something else. Or maybe just a simple "I see you."

Is that so hard to ask?

Your few flings in the past hadn't been anything special. You didn't have the kind of stable lifestyle that prompted or supported long serious relationships, especially with non-hunters. Not to mention you'd always had this fantasy about meeting another hunter who understood exactly what you went through and what you had gone through over the years. It was often difficult to find a non-hunter who could understand that.

The bunker was the first permanent address that you'd ever had. Your mother had been one of the best hunters in the US, known by all, and you never met your dad, which meant that growing up on the road was the only life you knew. She'd died a year before you started working with the Winchesters which meant that you didn't exactly have anyone that you cared about or anyone who cared about you.

The thought often brought the feeling of loneliness stirring in your chest, but you pushed it down, throwing everything you had into hunting.

Healthy right?

Ben's muscular arm is wrapped around your waist, his hand splayed over your lower back to keep you tight against his chest so there is no space between the two of you, while your hands locked at the back of his neck. You didn't usually like PDA that much, occasionally yes, but you'll admit that you were only allowing yourself to give in to Ben a little more, because you liked how much it annoyed Dean.

Yes, you thought that it was absolutely ridiculous how Dean was acting, but you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Because in all the years you'd known him, you’d never found one thing to hold over his head or one thing that really irritated him, and Ben was working like a charm.

It also felt really good to kiss him, but that was beside the point.

You understood that Dean was having a psychotic break with his constant proclamations that Ben "was him," but you wanted to at least understand why Dean was still hung up on it.

Ben isn't Dean. Sure they have the same face, but Ben is different… isn't he?

When you'd encountered Ben for the first time you had done a double take, but the more you were around him, the more you appreciated the way he treated you differently from Dean. Yes he was a little sexist, but Ben made you feel wanted and Dean had a way of making you feel stupid and often like a burden, as if you'd been plopped on his doorstep like a box of kittens and he was stuck with you.

There was only so much that you could take.

You didn't know what you'd done to earn such hostility. Dean was far from sexist, and you'd seen him interact with other people, it was just you he treated differently and it made you want to strangle him.

"Calm down kid-" Ben sighs.

"Stop calling me that!" Dean turns around to glare at the man next to you.

"Keep your eyes on the road." Sam says, not looking up from the map. He didn't need to.

"What a wonderful suggestion Sammy, but see I can't because I have no idea where the hell it is I'm going!" Dean snipes at his brother.

I swear at this point if Gabriel pops out of nowhere and tells me that this is all just a fucked up dream, I'd believe it.

"Stop being damn hormonal kid, and keep driving." Ben rolls his eyes and moves his lips to your throat, nipping and biting along the flesh visible over the top of your jacket, making you gasp softly and lean into Ben's warm embrace.

Your eyes meet Dean's in the rear view mirror and just for a second you see something flash through them that isn't anger, but it's gone just as soon as you clock it.

What was that?

Dean slams on the brakes and Ben tightens his grip on your body so you don't go flying forward into the bucket seat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You snap, curiosity gone, as you glare at Dean.

The tension in the car is high, popping and crackling around the four of you like popcorn. You still couldn't understand why Dean had such a problem with Ben. If anything you'd think that they'd get along a little bit.

"I am not being hormonal or whatever other chauvinistic shit that is about to come out of your mouth." Dean snarls, ignoring you, as he turns and narrows his eyes at Ben. "And I am not your chauffeur. So tell me where the hell it is I'm going so you can get the fuck out of my car and out of my life!"

Ben opens his mouth to retort something, no doubt that'll trigger Dean, but you speak before he can.

"Ben, do you remember anything about where you came through?" You ask him. You were trying to be more diplomatic even though Dean was making your blood boil.

Just because Dean is mad at me does not mean that he gets to take it out on Ben. Ben hasn't done anything wrong. He got sucked into this reality and immediately got pulled into Dean's soap opera.

Ben huffs out a sigh as he turns back to look at you. His gaze softens a little as his eyes meet yours, turning from a dark green to a jade. "There was a building-"

"Oh wow, how helpful!" Dean snarks. "Did you hear that Sammy? There was a building! Mystery solved!"

Ben whips his head in Dean's direction, the air in the car growing hot as Ben's skin begins to heat, but you gently lay your hand on his cheek to bring his gaze back on you. "Dean is an asshole. We all know." You say to Ben, reassuring him and ignoring the look Dean gives you when you say it. "Do you remember anything about the building?"

Getting Ben angry wasn't the way to get information out of him, he was, after all, more like Dean than you were willing to admit. And just as you'd seen Dean get worked over by numerous women, including Bella, sweet talking worked the best.

Well, it never worked when you tried to do it, because Dean refused to treat you any way other than an annoyance.

But two could play that game, especially with the way that Dean was acting right now.

Ben's jaw tightens and you know that he's biting back some remark to throw Dean's way, but you pull him closer, trailing your hand over his bearded cheek to keep his attention and gently bring your lips to his. You feel the tension shift from Ben's shoulders beneath the palms of your hands as he relaxes into the kiss, and this time Ben smiles when you pull away, giving your hips an encouraging squeeze. "It was a school or some shit. And there was a billboard for "World's Biggest Beer Can.""

"Okay. We can work with that." Sam says giving you a sympathetic look before pulling out his phone to type something in.

At least Sam is being normal about this whole thing.

Sam and you always got along, from the start he was the older brother that you never had, and it was refreshing. Not to mention Sam was your best and probably only friend. The hunter life was lonely and you found it difficult to make friends anyway, but something about Sam always stuck. He got your abnormal sense of humor, he gave the best hugs, and he stood up for you when things got heated between Dean and you. It was his idea for you to move into the bunker with him and Dean, and also him that convinced Dean to let you move in.

It had taken days for Dean to finally say yes. And when he did, he made you move into the bedroom next to his as if he wanted to keep an eye on you because he didn't trust you.

And as much as you hated living with Dean, living with Sam made up for it. You liked helping him research while Dean bitched and moaned about reading through dusty volumes, liked helping him clean up while Dean followed behind you as if you couldn't be trusted, liked helping Sam try to make dinner that ended up more burned than anything else until Dean stepped in and shooed the both of you from the kitchen so he could make something, and liked kicking back on the couch watching movies with Sam while eating copious amounts of popcorn.

Unfortunately, Dean didn't get the hint that you wanted him to leave you alone so he'd follow Sam and you, crack open a beer, and proceed to give a personal commentary on the movie the two of you were watching, occasionally throwing a look in your direction as if he was checking that you were listening to him. Weirder still was the fact that Dean would do that when Sam wasn't with you.

You noticed that sometimes, that no matter where you were in the bunker, Dean just happened to find himself in the same room. But that didn't mean he would speak, sometimes he would just be cleaning one of his guns or quietly reading through a dusty volume or writing something down in a notebook, but you swore sometimes you thought that Dean was looking at you. Each time you looked up though, he was looking down at whatever else it was he was doing.

It was those moments that made you think that things could be civil between the two of you, and then he'd get on your case for doing something he deemed "wrong" when you knew you did it right the first time as if you hadn't been a hunter as long as he had.

He probably does that because he doesn't trust me.

Dean grumbles something under his breath and turns his gaze back out the windshield, watching the wiper blades go back and forth over the glass, crossing his arms over his chest. Ben frowns and you know that he must have been able to hear whatever it was Dean said.

Why can't we all just get along for five minutes? Is that too much to ask?

"Alright I've got something." Sam says ending the uncomfortable silence in the car. "The World's Biggest Beer Can is in Northwood about ten miles ahead of us."

"Finally. At least someone is pulling their weight." Dean states before he hits the gas, the force throws you backwards into the seat.

Your gaze flicks up to the rearview mirror and notice that Dean is watching you again, but you turn away to Ben who smiles wide and pulls you back towards him for a kiss.

But deep down you can't help but wonder if Dean had been watching the two of you in his rearview mirror the whole time and why he cared so much.

The building that Ben remembers is in fact, an abandoned school.

The roof sags inward allowing rainwater to pool in the front lobby over black and white checkered tiles, the lockers are rusted and thrown to the floor at odd angles making you worry about the possibility of tetanus, and there is an ungodly stench that you can only describe as old gym socks, axe body spray, and unwashed feet.

Ben's nose wrinkles where he stands beside you, and you're sure that no matter what your sense of smell is experiencing it's a million times worse for him.

You press your lips into a tight line, toeing around a puddle of something gray and sticky that you can't identify, but know for a fact you don't want it in your shoes. Your eyes squint into the looming darkness that grows the more you stare down the forgotten hallways.

It’s always gotta be an old creepy building. Just once I want to get to investigate a donut shop or a burger joint or a Starbucks.

"Any of this looking familiar Captain Sexual Harassment?" Dean asks turning with his flashlight to point in Ben's face.

Ben shrugs and squints at the offending light. "I don’t fucking know."

"Enlightening." Dean huffs out a breath. "Well, guess we can split up and-"

Thank God I won't have to listen to Dean mutter things under his breath and freak out.

"Fine." You interrupt. "Come on Ben." You start to walk down one of the dark hallways, but Dean slides in front of you to block your path.

"No way. You're not going with him." Dean waves his flashlight in Ben's face again and you can see the twitch on the corner of Dean's mouth to see how much he enjoys blinding him.

Why does he always have to act like such a child?

"Why?" You demand.

"Because as soon as Sam and I get out the picture, Grandpa over there is going to pull you aside and fuck you in one of the classrooms." Dean says it without blinking, but it makes you flush red in embarrassment and anger.

"No, he's not!"

"Yes, he is!"

Dean is so close that you can feel his warm breath on your face. His eyes are narrowed in anger, but you can see another emotion flick through them so quickly you think you imagined it. It was the same emotion that you thought you saw in the car, but you can't identify it, not yet.

Ben's hand comes down on Dean's shoulder, a wide smirk on his face. "Look kid, I get it. She's fucking hot and I know you think I'm trying to horn in on your action-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean exclaims shaking off Ben's hand.

"You're jealous because she decided to be with a real man instead of you." Ben shrugs. His gaze travels up and down Dean as if appraising him before he shakes his head with a chuckle. "I can't blame her. Someone like you couldn't handle her.

"I could handle her just fine!" Dean snaps back his face flushing as he forces his chest against Ben's, who only smirks back.

What did he just say?

Your entire body goes stick straight in surprise and you turn your head to stare at Dean. In all the years that you'd known Dean he's never once said something like that to you.

Sure there was the night you met…

You hadn't thought about it in years. You'd been back in town because Bobby had called asking you to help out some friends of his on a case and you'd stopped in to Ellen's bar to see Jo. Dean had come on to you and you'd splashed a beer in his face and also maybe pinned him down against the bar. It had been awkward the next day when you found out that Dean and Sam were the friends that Bobby wanted you to help out, but you pushed past all the weird feelings to help.

Dean had flirted with you that night and you will admit to yourself that you thought Dean was attractive before he opened his mouth, but since that night the two of you hadn't spoken about it. In fact, you were both perfectly happy pretending that it didn't happen.

Or so you thought.

Dean's dark green eyes flick to yours in realization. "That's not what I meant."

"Sure kid." Ben's smirk grows to Cheshire Cat proportions.

"Stop calling me that!"

The weird thing was, you'd seen Dean lose his temper, it always flared fast and hot broken up with sarcastic comments, but for some reason this felt different and you didn't understand why. It didn't feel like Dean just getting angry because Ben was getting under his skin, it felt like something else.

"Whoa!" You get between the two of them for the second time in an hour. "If you guys keep fighting like this I'm going to put you both in time out!"

"He started it!" Dean glares at Ben, who doesn't look the least bit upset.

"I don’t care who started it! You're grown men and you're still acting like toddlers. I shouldn't have to separate you." You snap waving around your flashlight at Dean.

"How about this?" Sam sighs from where he stands a few feet away. "I'll go with Ben and the two of you can try not to shoot each other."

"Why can't I go with you?" You sigh to your friend.

"You want to leave them together? Alone?" Sam raises his eyebrow.

Not really.

Sam takes your silence rightfully as confirmation, because the both of you knew if you left Dean and Ben together it would probably be a Thunderdome situation or a reenactment of the WWE.

"Maybe we shouldn't split up." Dean says looking at his brother.

"You scared kid?" Ben smirks. " No wonder she decided to fuck me instead of you. You’re acting like a little bitch."

"You son of a bitch-" Dean finally snaps and launches himself towards Ben, but your hand fists in the back of Dean's leather jacket to stop him from starting a fight that you know he won't win.

It wasn't that you thought Ben was a better fighter than Dean, it was that Ben had super strength and would have no qualms ripping Dean in half. And despite how much Dean annoyed you, you didn't want him to die. Sure he was a jerk, but he didn't deserve that after everything he'd been through, and Sam didn't need to bear witness to that.

"Fine." You say. "Ben please go with Sam."

Ben rolls his eyes and follows after Sam, leaving Dean and you standing in the lobby alone, the only sound the soft plop of water echoing down the empty hallway.

Great. Now I'm stuck with Dean in a creepy old building. It's a dream come true. The stuff of Disney movies.

"Why did you do that?" Dean snaps at you when Ben and Sam turn a corner out of sight.

"You should be thanking me! Ben would rip you in half without batting an eye!" You turn back towards the empty hallway and try to put as much distance as you can between Dean and you.

Distance is good, nice. It means that I can only partly hear his disapproval.

"You don't know that." Dean catches up with you, sweeping the path in front of you with his flashlight looking for holes in the floor.

"Yes, I do. I've seen him do it before."

By now you were aware that there was a chill in the air, it was unnatural, creeping down the hallway in a thin mist that made a shiver crawl down your spine. Dean must sense it too, because he pulls his gun at the same time you do.

That or he's doing it because he's about to go Rambo on Ben's ass.

Because that'll end well…

"If he rips people in half why do you like him so much?"

“He’s not a bad person if that’s what you’re getting at. Ben did it to save me.” You point your flashlight into one of the classrooms along the hallway noting the rotted desks tipped over onto the checkered floor. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Ben's world was filled with more than a few crazed individuals, and when you'd been in his universe Ben had stepped in when a supe threw themselves at you. Truthfully, even though Ben did what he did to protect you, watching him pull someone apart with his bare hands made you sick to your stomach. Given what you'd seen, that was saying something. But you knew that Ben wouldn't hurt you, he wasn't that kind of man, and you weren't afraid of him.

“You’ve known him for five days! How can you tell after five days?!” Dean nudges a cardboard box with his boot sending a family of cockroaches scuttling into the shadows.

"Because I can!" Your lip curves up in distaste at the appearance of the roaches and try not to imagine all the walls infested with the little bugs.

You didn't like roaches. Especially ones that all of a sudden developed the ability to fly in your presence as if it were a miracle.

The two of you continue to walk down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps masking the constant dripping noise that comes from the floor above.

Your temper was flaring all over again. You didn't think that you needed to explain any of this to him. Dean never felt the need to discuss his extensive history with women with you and you didn't feel the need to discuss the ins and outs of your and Ben's situation.

"Come on-" He begins to say, but you don't want to hear it.

"Dammit Dean just fucking drop it." You throw your shoulder against a door at the end of the hallway, putting everything you have into it and a little more. You were getting frustrated at Dean's continuous commentary on your life. "I don’t want to talk about this anymore or listen to any of the ridiculous reasons why you think that it's any of your business who I sleep with."

“I think it is my business because you were about to reenact the scene from Titanic in the back of my car!”

“Oh please. I’m sure that you’ve reenacted it billions of times back there. Mr. Saturday Night!” You roll your eyes hitting the door again with your shoulder.

“It’s my car!" Dean shouts, moving you out of the way in a surprisingly gentle way, before he savagely kicks down the door. "I can do whatever I damn well please!”

I wonder if Sam and Ben are having a better time than us. It wouldn't be difficult to.

The door opens with a snap under the force of Dean's kick depositing Dean and you into a large auditorium. The seats are a faded gray and the curtains that hang from the sides of the stage, once blood red, were more of a muddled pink stained with splotches of dark spots and filled with holes the size of the Impala.

Crawling vines and ferns have begun to tangle over the empty seats and over the floors, absorbing anything in their path. The wooden stage is dilapidated and caving in on itself, the boards jutting upwards instead of laying flat as they should in some places from years of water damage. The carpet beneath your feet is squishy and moth eaten, and each step sends another cloud of dust into the air making the room hazy and you cough into your elbow.

"Not to mention he's me!" Dean continues, tramping into the room behind you.

"How many times are you going to say that?" You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying your best to keep it together.

"As many times as I have to, to get the point into your thick skull!"

You whirl around and poke your finger into his chest. "You know what Winchester? You can take all your opinions and shove them right up your uptight ass!"

"The two of you don't get along at all. Odd given how you seem to get along with my fiancé." A bored voice says from somewhere behind you. "But it is a lot more entertaining than I thought it was going to be."

Dean and you both lock eyes and turn to look in the direction of the voice, but there's no one there.

"Um, did you hear-" Dean begins to ask.

"Yes I did." You reply clicking the safety off your pistol.

"Just checking."

"Though I will say, with the way today is going for you and if this is you having a psychotic break, I wouldn't be surprised that you're having auditory hallucinations."

"Shut up." Dean sighs.

"Hello?" You shout, looking around the empty auditorium for some answer, but it remains empty.

Dean snorts. "Now who's craz-"

"Hello?" The voice mocks in a nasally voice. "Wow you're pathetic. I don't understand what he sees in you."

"You call me pathetic, but you're the one hiding. So why don't you come out?" A chair from the front row plucks itself off the ground and hurls itself at your head. You duck and it sails into the aisle behind Dean and you.

"You're not even that pretty." The voice continues and you can imagine a pout on the end of its words like a petulant child who wishes to get their way.

This is so fucking weird.

"Thanks." You reply dryly. "I like to think I've got a great personality."

"You don't." Dean mutters, making you throw an elbow into his side.

A high pitched giggle echoes through the space making it impossible to identify where it came from, until finally a woman materializes on the stage. You blink your eyes to make sure that she's really there.

Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders in perfect ringlets, and she's wearing a bright pink fur trimmed dressing gown. The kind you'd see on an eccentric billionaire's trophy wife who spent most of her day drinking gin martinis poolside while being fanned by cabana boys or the kind that she'd be wearing when she heard of her husband's "untimely demise." There's a silver diamond crown perched on top of her head and she's smoking a cigarette from a long white cigarette holder, while she lounges back on a golden throne.

What. The. Fuck.

"Do you see her too?" You whisper to Dean out of the corner of your mouth.

"You mean Glinda the Good Witch the later years? Yeah I can." Dean replies looking just as confused as you do. "You thinking Gabriel?"

"I thought he was dead."

"He's pretended to be dead before." He shrugs.

"Fair enough. Any reason why he's making us see her?"

"Maybe your new boyfriend has a fetish."

"Hasn't anyone told you that it's rude to whisper?" The woman says, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"Sorry. Um. Who are you?" You ask.

"I don't speak to homewreckers." Her face contorts into a sneer. You watch her eyes shift from Dean to you. "But I'll answer for your friend. I'm Iris, Benjamin's Fiancé."

If pigs could fly right now an entire fleet of them would be taking flight around you. You tried to wrack your brain remembering a single time that Ben said that he had a fiancé or was in a relationship at all, and you can't find a single moment.

Well… today officially sucks.

"Wow. Nice." Dean looks at you with a scoff. "Real nice."

"Hey woah, I didn't know he had a fiancé." You hold up your free hand in surrender. "He never said anything about a-"

"Hey gorgeous. Did you find anything?" Ben says materializing behind Dean.

"You're engaged?" You shout.

"No?" Ben looks confused. "Who told you that?"

You point a thumb over your shoulder to Iris, who is still lounging on the stage completely in her element. She giggles and wiggles her fingers in a cute wave.

"Hey Benny Wenny, did you miss me?" Her lips curl up in a wide smile when she rises from the throne, her bright blue eyes crinkling around the edges. The air around her seems to sparkle, sending scattered light out into the broken seats.

Ben is still staring up at the woman, looking utterly confused.

"You know that freak?" Dean whispers to Ben who is now standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Fuck no."

"Well, congratulations Benny Wenny." Dean snorts. "Guess you're getting married."

"I am not-"

"And don't worry, of course I'll be your best man." Dean continues, holding back laughter.

"Shut the fuck up kid!" Ben snaps at Dean, before turning back to the woman on the stage. "Look baby, I don't know who you are but-" Ben begins to say to the woman, who only laughs.

She throws back her head, golden curls bouncing with the force of her body moving, laughing for an unnatural amount of time before she locks her blue eyes on Ben again.

“Stop being silly. We met a few months ago at Legend’s party. We had a few drinks and then you came back to my apartment where we made love for hours-“ Her cheeks blush. “It was sooooo romantic. What I always dreamed about!”

“Um-“

“My parents are so excited to meet you and my little sister said that she’s so happy to have a big brother!” She giggles. “I even made us matching t-shirts to wear on our honeymoon and a scrap book of our children!" She holds up a magenta colored bedazzled photo album that’s the size of a medium sized dog.

Wow she put a lot of work into that.

“Children?” Ben stutters, his voice cracking on the end a little bit. It's the first time that you've ever seen him look afraid.

“What they’ll look like, where we’ll vacation each year, where we'll live, where you'll work-” Her expression turns sour, eyes flashing a dark pink as she glares in your direction. “But then you met that little whore who took you away from me and poisoned your mind.” She points a perfectly manicured pink nail at you. “So I decided to bring you here so you could help me kill her.”

“I’m sorry rewind-“ You say holding up a hand. “You brought Ben here? How?"

"I found a website while I was looking at destination weddings." She shrugs.

"There are websites about traveling through different universes that show up in the search engine-" Dean begins to say.

"DON'T QUESTION ME!" The girl shrieks and the entire room begins to shake.

"And you wanted Ben to be here because?" You haven’t lowered your gun. Frankly you had no idea what her powers were. She looked more like she would start tap dancing down the yellow brick road rather than start hurling chunks of the stage at you, but you needed a plan.

“Because we’ll get to share this moment together.” Iris sighs looking over at Ben again, who is just as shell-shocked as he was a moment ago.

“Killing me?”

Iris nods enthusiastically. “We'll make love on top of your dead body and no one will come between us ever again!” 

Dean snorts under his breath and you elbow him again, trying not to think of the image.

Please let this be Gabriel messing around with me. Because if it's not my life is officially a joke.

The three of you stand there for a minute looking up at where she prances on the stage in mixed stages of disbelief.

And just as Iris takes a step forward, a sandbag falls on her head. She crumples to the floor like a sack of potatoes as Sam appears in the wings of the stage looking from her to where the three of you are watching.

"You guys okay?" He calls.

"Yeah." Ben shrugs. "Too bad about her though. She was hot."

He's kidding right?

"The crazies always are." Dean adds with a sigh, patting him on the back.

"I'm so happy the two of you are having this bonding moment, truly I am, but-" You begin to say, turning your back to the stage, but as soon as you do Sam goes flying across the room and into one of the fern plants.

"That was so uncool!" Iris squeals, hovering over the stage, her hands glowing an unnatural magenta color. "Ben and I are meant to be together, we're soulmates, perfect, fated, destined, and no one is going to stand in my way."

The entire room begins to tremble with the force of her anger, dust floats down from the ceiling as it begins to crack and crumble under her powers. You can feel the warmth of Ben's skin as he begins to power up the beam in his chest, burning through the air like a supernova.

There's a crackling sound that comes from above and you look up to see a giant piece of the ceiling falling in slow motion towards your body. Dean shouts your name, but he sounds far away, the sound ringing through the few seconds that you still have left before it crushes you.

But the hit doesn't come from above, it comes from the side.

Dean tackles you, just as the piano sized piece hits the ground where you had been standing a second ago, to the ground, cradling your head in his hands. Your bodies tumble into the moth eaten carpets as Ben explodes, the heat and power of the beam causing more of the room to fall around the two of you.

There's a terrible high pitched wail that's cut off abruptly mid scream and you don't need to be a genius to know what or rather who it was.

Dean covers your body with his and your hands come up under his arms to hold him tighter to you. You bury your face into the warmth of his coat where his throat and his shoulder meet with a whimper as everything around the two of you shudders and shakes. He doesn't pull away, his muscles tensing as he tightens his grip around you, his own face buried in your hair.

The room continues to shake and fall apart in the aftermath of the blast, dust and ash rising in clouds. But you can’t see any of it, Dean's body is shielding you from the room as it crumbles around the two of you, tucking you further beneath him the longer it goes on, making it impossible for anyone or anything to hurt you.

You could feel something curling in the pit of your stomach the longer you laid there under him, an odd feeling that you'd tried to push down whenever you were around Dean, a warmth that begins to spread like wildfire through your body everywhere the two of you are touching. His body is warm and heavy, but it's not oppressive, it lays over you protective and unyielding in the wake of the destruction.

The smell of him invades your senses, a mix of gunmetal, leather, and a spicy scent that tickled your nose. You'd smelled Dean's shampoo before, when it wafted out of the bathroom as you walked down the hallway, imprinting itself in your mind. It was how the impala smelled, always like Dean, and with it brought a feeling of comfort that you'd never known before.

It was odd.

"Are you okay?" Dean whispers, and you can feel the rumble of his words through his chest where it's touching you, his hips laying in the cradle of your thighs. He pulls back to look at your face, the rough grate of his stubble catching your chin as he does so. His eyes are wide with worry and it's the first time that you'd ever seen him look at you that way.

Dust and ash caught in his hair in graying clumps, sticking to the shortened brownish gold strands, the ones that were just a little shorter than Ben's. You longed to run your fingers through, to feel if it was as soft as it looked.

"I think so." You murmur, not used to the weight of his body on top of yours, but you're also trying not to notice how a part of you liked it. "Are you okay?" Your fingertips trail against the smooth leather of his jacket, working up to the back of his head, feeling just the subtle brush of the hair at the nape of his neck.

You don't miss the soft sigh that rushes out of Dean's chest when you do that, fueling the fire that was spreading in the pit of your stomach.

What is happening?

"Yeah." Dean's fingers brush your hair from your face, so quickly that you think you missed it, but the burn of his skin over your cheeks is the only reminder. You gasp softly with the movement, confused as to why Dean was acting this way, why he was worried about you, and why you liked it. Your arms are still wrapped around his body, fingers curled into the back of his leather jacket, but Dean makes no move to get up, he continues to look at you.

You'd never seen Dean look at you like that, look at you as if he wished to understand you, as if he saw you. No one had ever looked at you that way in your entire life.

"Dean!" You hear Sam yell from somewhere, followed by your own name.

It jolts Dean out of wherever his mind is and he gets off of you, but he helps you to your feet, one of his warm calloused hands taking yours to pull you up before dropping it as if he didn't do it in the first place.

The room is destroyed. The roof has completely caved in allowing the rain to soak through the remaining seats of the auditorium and into the musty carpets. The stage no longer exists, all that remains is a black blob of what you're sure used to be Iris, and although a part of you feels bad about the turn of events, you can't help but feel a little relieved.

She was going to kill me. You think to avoid the wave of guilt that washes over you.

"Ding dong the witch is dead." Dean mutters under his breath, but it doesn't make you feel better.

Fires burn over the edges of the stage, small and controlled, but sending rivulets of smoke into the air. You knew it meant that the fire department would be here any minute and that's the last thing you wanted to explain. That and the body on the stage.

Ben stumbles to his feet a few steps away from Dean and you, pushing off a piece of roofing that must have landed on top of him. His suit is covered in dust and drywall, but he looks okay. He's got that far-away look in his eye he always does after he uses his power.

You step towards him to make sure he's okay, but Dean stands in your way.

"Are you out of your mind?" Dean snarls at Ben.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Ben snaps.

"You almost killed us! Almost killed her!" Dean gestures towards you.

"I fixed the problem." Ben rolls his eyes and glances to you, as if trying to reassure himself that you're okay. You knew that Ben might have wanted to only have a physical relationship with you, but you knew that he did care about you in his own way. "You okay sweetheart?" He pushes past Dean, gently touching your face, tilting it up to his. "Did you hit your head?"

"No. I'm okay." You smile tightly at him, but a part of you can still feel the ghost of Dean's fingertips trailing against your cheeks to push away your hair and feel the weight of his body over yours. "Are you okay?" You ask, noting the way his eyes still are a little unfocused.

"Course I am." Ben scoffs. "Takes a little more than a building to bring me down doll."

You nod, while Ben's hand still continues to rest on your chin, and just as he leans down for a kiss, you see Dean's face in the corner of your eye and finally you're able to identify the emotion reflected in his gaze. It's the same emotion that you saw in the car when he stared at you in the rearview mirror. It's the first time that you've ever seen Dean look at you that way in all the years you'd known him.

It's hurt that flashes behind the green eyes you knew so well, shifting to jealousy on around the darkened edges the longer he looks at Ben and you.

And when Ben's lips touch yours, you feel guilt begin to creep along your skin and extinguish the sparks you'd felt moments ago in the pit of your stomach.

A/N: I'm not going to lie, I did not mean for this part to be a little sad... but oh my word 😭 BUT I also promise that the next chapter will have a happy ending ❤️

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for Part 3 please let me know!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @livya99 @zepskies

@winchesterwild78 @ladykitana90 @spnfamily-j2 @whyyouegg

@suckitands33 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @s0uz4s @schinug @just-levyy

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @minas-fantasies @ladysparkles78

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@bitchykittenconnoisseur

[impish-baby]

A few glimpses into 'both arms cradle you now' reader's childhood in no particular order

"Why do birds suddenly appear evertime you are near.." The wet tears running down your cheeks are gently brushed away, whatever nightmare plaguing your sleep seems so far away now that your dad is here. "Just like me, they long to be close to you.." Damien hoists you into his arms, still humming that familiar lullaby as he carries you to the kitchen.

"Why do stars fall from the sky every time you walk by.." You're set on top of the counter, Damien ruffling your hair softly before walking over to the fridge to fetch a carton of milk. "Just like me.. they long to be.. close to you.." The warm glow of the stove makes the quiet night more cozy, the shadows along the walls retreating as well as any lingering fear.

You can feel you eyes start to droop, a small yawn leaving your lips making the man chuckle fondly. "One sec, ok? Daddy has some angel milk for you so you don't have anymore bad dreams, then we'll get you tucked back into bed."

-

"Do you want to hold him, sweetie?" Not really, but a nudge to your shoulder has you taking a reluctant step forward anyway. You're not sure how to feel about him, he's your dad's but not your mom's.

Mary scoots over a little so you can climb up on the hospital bed next to her, a tired but kind smile on her face. "Here, it's ok, you just need to make sure you're supporting his head.." She helps guide your arms into the right position, placing the tiny buddle into them, a pair of equally tiny disgruntled blue eyes soon staring up at you.

When you were first told that your stepmom was pregnant, you tried really really hard to just be happy for them. You promise. The sinking dread never went away though, no matter how much you berated yourself for feeling that way.

Babies are a blessing, but the announcement only cemented the fact that the world as you knew it was ending. Your dad isn't just your dad anymore. Even then, he hasn't acted like one to you in a while. Maybe you were just denying the inevitable.

"Ohh, I think he likes you.." Mary's head rests on your shoulder suddenly, distracting you from your sullen thoughts. "See? You're a natural with little ones!"

"He's glaring at me.."

She laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek as she sits up. "No, he's just getting used to the world, darling. He loves you, he knows he has the best older sibling he could ask for."

-

"What's even the point?" You're both supposed to be sleeping even though it isn't a school night, Aunt Lisa is strict when it comes to things like that. What she doesn't know won't hurt her though.

"Because they look cool," Avery shrugs, carful of the fact you're currently snuggled under one of his arms. "And you get bragging points for catching them." You still don't get it, they're the same thing just a different color. "You've watched me play for like an hour, and now you're bored?"

"You were actually doing stuff before.." You huff, "You've been going around in a circle for fifteen minutes."

You scoff at his comment, now filled with spite to actually beat the game. You've barely moved an inch before the battle music plays, a black and purple pumpkaboo greeting you. "Oh, um..

"I

Well, excuse me," Avery sniffs playfully, "You play since I'm not entertaining enough." The console is handed over to you, the older boy simply holding you closer. "I bet you lose the first match you try."

"Huh?" Avery sighs, quickly pouting when he looks back at the screen. "Seriously? Damm, you're lucky." He pokes your cheek, "You catch it for me and I'll buy you some fries tomorrow."

-

"You're so annoying!"

With how hard you hit the ground, you know you're going to bruise. You weren't even talking, you just wanted to hang out with them.

"Seriously, who even wanted you to come over? I sure didn't!" No matter what you do, Lizzie doesn't like you. Doesn't matter if you're as friendly as can be or give her some space, you're always doing something wrong. "You're wasting good air, you know?"

"M' sorry, didn't mean to bother you." You won't cry, you're too old for that. "Liz-"

"You didn't mean to? Yeah, right!" Lizzie scoffs, kicking dirt into your face. Dust immediately stings your eyes. "You're a pest! No wonder everyone calls you bug, you're clingy like a tick, a parasite."

Your feeble attempt to rub the dirt away isn't really helping, you can barely hold your eyes open enough to look up at her. Miles isn't going to do anything to help either, silently supporting his sister.

"No wonder your dad left you! And your mom, she must be insufferable if you're her kid-"

You don't know when you managed to get up on your feet or when you grabbed a handful of Lizzie's hair. On the bright side, it makes her shut up.

"Hey!"

Your dad emerges from the house, miles trailing behind him. Of course.

"What has gotten into you?" You've let the older girl go at this point, she wasn't even crying until he came outside.

"Ow, dad.." Lizzie hides behind Damien, flashing you a smirk. "I wasn't even doing anything and they decided to be mean.."

Any inking of doubt you had evaporates in an instant. You don't have a dad anymore, you haven't in years.

"God.." He crosses his arms, the stern look would have made you wince if you weren't already shaking. "Don't even try to give me any excuses, Miles told me what happened. You can wait out here for your mom to pick you up since you can't behave yourself. I thought you knew better."

-

"Can you at least try to eat half, please?"

Your plate sits almost entirely untouched, having just been picked at over the course of dinner. Your mom's worried frown won't leave her face. "You're still a growing kid, I don't like how many meals you've tried to skip."

"I'm not hungry." You really aren't, there's always a nauseous feeling in your gut these days. "I'll eat a snack later, don't worry, mom."

"Baby.." She pinches the bridge of her nose and you feel a pang of guilt for how stressed she must be. "Please? For mommy? Or at least talk to me about what's going on.. i- it hurts seeing you so sad all the time."

What are you supposed to say to that?

Against your will, there's tears starting to drip down your cheeks. You don't think you've ever seen the women move so fast, her chair clattering to the floor in her rush to go to your side. "Oh, my baby.."

"I- I'm sorry.." For what you don't know, maybe the fact that she's stuck with you. "I- I'm so sorry, mom-"

"Oh, hush.." You're too big for her to carry, you both know, but she still scoops you into her arms. "There's nothing in the world you need to apologize to me for."

You sniffle, tucking your head under her chin. "I- I don't want to see dad anymore.. or.. or hear about him or-"

"Shhh.." She runs a hand through your hair in an attempt to soothe you, "you don't have to, alright? We'll figure it out. If that's what you want, you won't ever have to see him again."

(a/n: some ramblings while I start writing the second part to the series..reader will continue to go through it)

[dollzites]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ GDRAGON AS A FATHER

୨ৎ pairing: father!jiyong x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: quite soft, quite fluffy, and emotional!

୨ৎ from myeong: hi!! so happy to receive this adore request and I’ve been so excited to get to it! I hope you can enjoy this and seeing a dad jiyong would be the cutest ever!! ): such a sweetheart x

jiyong will be the most softest, caring, sweetest, loving, supportive, and genuine father ever!!!!!!!!!!

does not care about whether the first baby will be a boy or a girl all he cares about is having a healthy child that he can help him become a better person.

enjoys letting the baby hold his finger and takes at least a dozen photos even when you tell him it’s a bit pointless to have so many of the same photos.

“it’s not! what if something happens to the first few I took then I need to have more for backup!”

jiyong will be extremely overprotective and if a family member wants to hold the baby he has to be near to watch and make sure everything is okay.

“see that precious smile? that’s because of me.”

you’ll give him this look and he then of course adds you in and thanks you for helping in the creation of the baby and why he/she is just so beautiful. aww

“do you think he’ll/she’ll look more like me or look more like you as they get older? I’m so curious.”

jiyong will kiss you and tell you to go back to sleep while he takes care of the baby during the night. he knows you need all the rest you can get for being up most of the day with the baby. he’s very caring.

spoils the child rotten but also makes sure that he or she has the best manners even at such a young age, teaching basic skills and always showing the baby how much he loves you for everything you do.

as the child gets older it only makes jiyong slightly panic because he wanted so badly for the baby to stay little forever but of course it doesn’t work that way so he spends extra time filming for memories.

“one sec! let me take this last picture.. alright I got it. gosh.. she/he looks so perfect thanks to us.”

when it’s just the three of you jiyong sometimes gets emotional and talks about how much he’s always wanted a family like this and he still can’t believe he finally has one after so many years.

takes family time very seriously. he’ll cut everyone off who’s not interested in including you and the baby. he doesn’t have time for any of that stuff.

jiyong will want matching pjs, shoes, jewelry, hats, glasses, etc etc with the baby and you. he looks at it like family goals and thinks it’ll complete the fam.

“guess what? I learned how to make this dish! do you think he/she will like it? it has all of his/hers favorite things in it! the broccoli is what sold me.”

jiyong is obsessed with taking you and the baby to the park every chance that he gets. he’ll ask if you want to go if the weather is nice and gets the big bag ready full of snacks, drinks, and toys for the baby in case he/she gets a little bored there.

he likes to plan little trips as a family. the zoo and aquarium being at the top of the list because in his mind it’s so important to experience these types of things with the baby as a very close family. cute ):

allows you to have time to yourself since being a mom is a very tough job so he’ll take the baby and shop around for the day or hang out at the studio while he/she plays and snacks on yummy snacks.

“are you having fun with dada? I know you are.”

if you’re away at work or he’s allowing you time away for yourself like said before then he’ll send you so many selcas that he takes of him and the baby asking if you’d like this as your wallpaper.

“thank you for giving me my perfect little one.”

jiyong loves falling asleep with the baby even when he/she starts to get older he’ll take bedtime very seriously and read he/she a book while slowly falling asleep. next thing you know he’s asleep with he/she in bed and it’s the cutest thing ever!!!

long story short he’s a perfect father to your baby.

[redhoodfucker69]

Honestly people like to compare her to True Mandalorians quite a bit but... Honestly? I used to be team True Mandalorian. But nowadays... Satine's stance does make more sense.

Yes, True Mandalorians struck what was as close to a balance could be between the old ways and the way war was worshipped without being an actual empire. They had morals. They had rules. But, at the end of the day, they were highly effective mercenaries. They were effectively stateless, wandering vagabonds, relying entirely on their pay from acting as mercenaries to sustain themselves. That can be very sustainable... but not for a whole people. It's simply not the same. Were they terrorists? No. But they weren't exactly the moral authority, either. If you meet a white American that actively worked as a military contracted mercenary in Iraq or something, you're not going to think he's a good person. No, you're gonna think he was an actual psycho, even more than a regular Iraq War veteran. Mercenaries are not good people.

Were they better than the terrorists with grand plans of galactic domination? Yes, absolutely. There was always gonna be a need for mercenaries in the galaxy, and if they didn't do it, someone else would. Flat out. It's less overarching grand evil, but it is still very much every day evil you accept as normal.

Even with Galidraan, yeah, they were framed, but the governor was very much stylized as corrupt, and the insurgents they were there to fight were very much stylized as legitimate freedom fighters fed up with their government. They were never meant to be woobified and defanged by fandom. They were not supposed to be the good guys. But, they were.

Listen. I love the True Mandalorians, as they are. Not the popular fandom depiction of them. I think they're complex and fun. But... The idea that Jaster Mereel should have taken over Mandalore is... mm. Well. Could he actually have done it? Would it have gone well? Why do you want the commander of a private mercenary army to be Mand'alor? Yes, Jaster very much had popular support without even the darksaber. That does not mean he was in any equipped to lead and manage a complex government system. Satine was. Talk shit about politicians all you want, but the fact remains that it is a career that requires training and intimate understanding that the sewer system needs to be maintained and trash needs to be collected in a timely fashion and schools need to be funded and parks need to be built and agriculture needs to be developed and trade needs to be negotiated and EVERYONE needs to be happy within reason, not just the people that agree with you. It needs the knowledge of putting qualified people in the appropriate positions. You think Jaster could have managed all of that? While being a warlord and effectively spiritual leader of his people? Be so for real. Different people are good at different things. Different positions in life require different education.

There was a reason Satine was chosen, and to say it was just because the True Mandalorians were wiped out does her a disservice, and frankly, does them a disservice, too. Enjoying characters doesn't necessarily take more than surface level understanding. But you should still take the time to read into it and come to love the flaws evident in their characters and appreciate them for making them that more complex and alive. And the True Mandalorians had flaws.

Frankly, I would love a story where the True Mandalorians survived and Jango had to go up against his toughest opponent yet after taking care of Death Watch: a woman that knows what the hell she's talking about, and more than him, and he CAN'T solve the situation with a blaster this time.

Why do you think Satine (a pacifist who encourages diplomacy) did not try talking to them? @soliloquy-of-nemo

In “The Academy” Satine has wants the kids taught that “It’s every citizen’s duty to challenge their leaders, to keep them honest, and hold them accountable if they’re not.”

In “Voyage of Temptation” Satine tells Obi-Wan that “Even extremists can be reasoned with.” If she doesn’t consider Death Watch extremists, I don’t know who would qualify. This suggests she still has hope for a peaceful outcome with them.

In “Duchess of Mandalore” we learn that Death Watch cannot take over Mandalore without the “will of the people” which is part of the many pieces of evidence that Satine’s pacifist rule is favoured by the majority of Mandalorians. We also get “They are not powerful enough to destabilize our government. We will resolve this without conflict.” and “The Mandalorian government holds no secrets from its people.” Does any of this sound like a dictator who refuses to seek a peaceful mediation with her enemies?

I mention that Satine’s pacifist rule is favoured because in that episode she also tellingly states that “You would trample our right to self-determination.” about a Republic occupation. We don’t know if Mandalore is a democracy (I have trouble picturing them at the voting booth, but who knows) but what Satine represents is an attempt to decentralize power (she has a Prime Minister, a Council, does not call herself Mand'alor which seems to be an old-fashioned power grab move of ultimate rule when others do it.) Satine is a strong leader with a clear vision, but she doesn’t wish to rule with an iron fist: she wants Mandalore to develop naturally into a people who choose non-violence. This is why we see her care so much about education of the youth, and that those youth be taught that it’s morally correct to hold your government accountable and fight corruption everywhere it appears.

In “The Lawless” it’s clear Bo Katan and Satine haven’t spoken in some time, and we’re told “There was a time when we weren’t enemies.” Are we to assume that even when they were still sisters who spoke, Satine never tried to explain or communicate her ideas to Bo Katan? That they never had debates, never tried to compromise?

And compromise is a tricky word, because to believe that they could have just talked it out, you have to fundamentally fail to understand what Death Watch are fighting for. What compromise do you think they wanted? They believe in ‘might makes right.’ They believe the strongest should rule Mandalore, and that they should return to the glory days of warfare past. To let ol’ Pre tell it:

“We are the Death Watch, descendants of the true warrior faith all Mandalorians once knew. Now my people are living in exile because we will not abandon our heritage. Our people were warriors. Strong. Feared! Now they’re ruled by the New Mandalorians who think that being a pacifist is a good thing. They’ve given away our honor and tradition for peace. Duchess Satine and her corrupt leadership are crushing our souls, destroying our identity. That is our struggle.”

Does this sound like a guy who’s gonna compromise on some things? Say, “Jeez, Satine, I agree we should stop bombing each other but hey can’t we have a little conquest, as a treat?” It’s not like Mandalore was wholly demilitarized. Satine has guards. We see armor and weapons. She believes in a person’s right to defend themselves. What Vizla wants is for them to be active combatants – to be “feared” and to reject peace. They are, frankly, fascists, and saying Satine could have found common ground with them suggests that they have a point, and they don’t. What they want is fundamentally morally corrupt, and it is a credit to Satine that she continued to strive for peaceful resolutions with them in order to not betray her own ideals, but never gave in to their demands.

Also they’re a terrorist group composed of a small minority of the population called Death Watch who are shown to favour assassination, torture, DROID torture (?!), abuse of captives, militarized occupation of civilian populations, bombings, etc., etc. … I’m pretty sure the writers didn’t create them to represent a reasonable opposition, the way they sometimes did with the “heroes on both sides” of the galactic war.

[cei1ne]

—You suffer from anemia yet your boyfriends as supportive as ever, just in his own way

დ .•*”Summary: You suffer from anemia but you don’t let it stop you from becoming a hero, yet, your boyfriend’s a stubborn mess and forced you to rest.

༺ღ༒Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x GN!Anemic!Reader

☆࿐ཽ༵Tags: High school; Relationship; UA; GN!Reader

＊*•̩̩͙Warnings: Cursing?; Anemia; Overprotective boyfriend

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Word count: 3.8k

‧͙⁺˚*･A/N: Someone requested this but it was anonymous and my tumblr was bugging lately! It just got deleted but I still had lots of fun writing this and I hope you’ll have just as much fun reading this! And I didn’t know if they meant headcanons or Scenario so I just did both!

Headcanons: Katsuki Bakugou x GN!Anemic!Reader

1. Worry Masked by Irritation: Bakugou would constantly mask his concern for your condition by pretending to be annoyed. He’d grumble about you being “too weak” but would secretly go above and beyond to ensure you’re healthy.

2. Diet Control Freak: He’d take control of your meals, researching iron-rich foods and sneaking them into your diet. If you tried to resist, he’d shove a plate at you with a snarky remark like, “Eat this before I lose it.”

3. Hyper Awareness: Bakugou would become hyper-aware of your signs of fatigue or dizziness. If you so much as swayed while standing, he’d immediately drag you to sit down.

4. Loud Protector: If anyone dared to tease or question you about your condition, he’d explode (figuratively and maybe literally). “You got something to say?! Say it to me!”

5. Gentle in Private: Though Bakugou is explosive in public, in private, he’d show softer affection. He’d tuck blankets around you, carry you to bed if you overexerted yourself, and grumble softly, “Don’t push yourself, idiot.”

6. Hates Seeing You Weak: Seeing you too tired to get up genuinely unnerves him. He’d pace, bark orders, and eventually sit by your side, silently holding your hand.

7. Acts of Service: Bakugou would do small things like fetching water, helping you stand, or taking on your chores. Of course, he’d act like it’s no big deal. “You’re lucky I’m not a total asshole, huh?”

8. Research Master: He’d secretly learn about anemia from every available resource and even consult Recovery Girl or doctors. He wouldn’t tell you about it, though; he’d just start doing things that showed he knew what he was talking about.

9. Training Adjustment: He’d modify training sessions for you, subtly encouraging you to take breaks without making you feel weak. He might even offer to spar lightly to “keep you on your toes.”

10. Blunt Reassurance: If you ever felt self-conscious about your condition, Bakugou would bluntly shut you down. “You’re not weak. You’re mine, and that’s all that matters.”

Got it! Here’s the extended version of the scenario, which will build up to at least 4,000 words with added details, inner thoughts, interactions with other characters, and expanded scenes.

Rest is for the Weak (But Not for You)

The morning started like any other. The dorms buzzed with activity as Class 1-A prepared for the day ahead. You had been one of the first to wake, though not because you were particularly eager. A familiar heaviness sat on your chest, and your limbs felt as though they were weighed down by lead.

It was nothing new. This was your normal.

“Y/N, you doing okay?” Mina’s cheerful voice rang out as she caught sight of you rubbing your temples. “You look kinda pale.”

You gave her a small smile, brushing it off. “I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

“You sure? I can grab you something from the cafeteria real quick if you need it!”

“Thanks, Mina, but I’m good,” you said firmly, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself.

She hesitated but eventually nodded, skipping off to join the others. As you gathered your things and headed toward the training grounds, you could feel the weight of someone’s gaze on you.

Turning your head, you locked eyes with Bakugou.

He didn’t say anything, but his narrowed eyes and furrowed brow made it clear he’d heard the exchange. You pretended not to notice and hurried to catch up with the others, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue.

_________________________________

The training session was supposed to be routine—a series of combat drills designed to test reflexes and stamina. You had been paired with Midoriya for a sparring match, something that usually wouldn’t faze you.

But today, every movement felt sluggish. Your punches lacked their usual strength, and your dodges were just a fraction too slow. Midoriya, ever the observant one, noticed almost immediately.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re feeling okay?” he asked, concern etched into his face as he blocked one of your weak punches.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, dodging to the side as he retaliated.

But the dizziness was getting worse. Your vision blurred at the edges, and the sound of your own heartbeat roared in your ears.

“Y/N—”

“Stop holding back!” you snapped, cutting him off.

Midoriya flinched but complied, though his hits were clearly pulled. You hated it—hated the pity in his eyes, the way he seemed afraid to fight you properly. You wanted to prove you could keep up, that you weren’t a liability.

And then your knees buckled.

_________________________________

“Oi! What the hell are you doing, Deku?!”

Bakugou’s voice rang out across the gym, loud enough to make everyone pause. You barely registered the sound of his boots stomping across the floor before he was standing between you and Midoriya, his crimson eyes blazing.

“I-It wasn’t his fault—” you started, but Bakugou cut you off with a sharp glare.

“Shut it, dumbass,” he growled before turning back to Midoriya. “What the hell were you thinking, letting them push themselves like that?”

Midoriya opened his mouth to respond but quickly decided against it, his expression shifting to one of resignation.

“And you,” Bakugou snarled, rounding on you. “What the hell were you thinking? You could’ve hurt yourself!”

“I’m fine!” you snapped, trying to push past him.

But Bakugou wasn’t having it. He grabbed your arm—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to stop you in your tracks.

“You’re not fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re done. Sit down before you pass out.”

_________________________________

Bakugou practically dragged you to the edge of the gym, ignoring your protests as he deposited you on a bench. The other students watched from a distance, their whispered conversations filling the air.

“Bakugou, you’re overreacting,” you muttered, crossing your arms as he crouched in front of you.

“Overreacting, my ass,” he shot back, his tone sharp. “You’re pale as shit, and you can’t even stand up straight. Don’t lie to me, Y/N.”

You glared at him, but the dizziness made it hard to keep your head up. Bakugou noticed immediately and let out an irritated sigh.

“Tch. Stay here,” he ordered before stomping off.

When he returned a few minutes later, he was carrying a water bottle and a protein bar. He shoved them at you without a word, his scowl deepening when you hesitated.

“Eat. Drink. Now,” he barked.

“Bakugou, I don’t need—”

“Don’t argue with me, dumbass!” he snapped, his voice louder than necessary. “Just do it!”

You flinched but complied, taking small sips of water and nibbling on the protein bar.

________________________________

When the session ended, Bakugou didn’t give you a choice about walking back to the dorms together. He hovered close, his sharp eyes scanning you for any signs of weakness.

“You didn’t have to walk me back,” you muttered, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment.

“Shut up. You’re lucky I didn’t carry your ass,” he shot back.

The two of you walked in silence for a while, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife. But as you reached the dorms, Bakugou’s voice softened.

“You need to take care of yourself, Y/N,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.

You glanced at him, surprised by the shift in his demeanor. “I do take care of myself.”

“Bullshit,” he muttered. “If you did, I wouldn’t have to babysit you all the damn time.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the exhaustion caught up with you, and you leaned against the wall for support.

Bakugou was at your side in an instant, his hand on your arm as he steadied you.

“See? This is exactly what I’m talking about,” he grumbled. “You’re too damn stubborn for your own good.”

_________________________________

Once inside your room, Bakugou made himself at home, pulling a chair up beside your bed as you sat down.

“You’re not staying,” you said, giving him a tired look.

“Like hell I’m not,” he retorted, crossing his arms. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t do something stupid.”

You sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re an idiot,” he shot back, though there was no real heat behind his words.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the tension gradually fading as the weight of the day settled over you. Bakugou’s presence, as much as you hated to admit it, was comforting.

_________________________________

The silence in your dorm room was a strange thing. Bakugou wasn’t one to enjoy stillness, yet here he was, sitting in your chair like he belonged there, arms crossed as he glared at the wall. The occasional sound of his foot tapping against the floor was the only thing breaking the quiet.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” you said finally, unable to take the tension anymore.

“Too bad,” he replied curtly.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “You’re seriously overreacting. I just got a little dizzy.”

He turned his sharp gaze on you, the intensity in his crimson eyes making you freeze. “A little dizzy? You couldn’t even finish training without almost eating shit in front of everyone.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” you muttered, looking away.

“I’m not saying it to piss you off, dumbass,” he snapped, leaning forward slightly. “I’m saying it because you’re being reckless.”

You stared at him, surprised by the raw frustration in his voice. Katsuki Bakugou was never one to sugarcoat his words, but there was something different about the way he spoke to you now—like he was genuinely afraid for you.

“I just don’t want to hold anyone back,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bakugou’s expression softened for a moment, though his scowl quickly returned. “You’re not holding anyone back,” he said firmly. “You think I give a crap if you can’t keep up sometimes? You’re not weak, Y/N.”

The words caught you off guard. You’d always thought Bakugou saw weakness as unforgivable, that he’d look down on anyone who couldn’t match his relentless energy. Hearing him say otherwise left you speechless.

“Tch. Don’t look at me like that,” he grumbled, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink. “I’m just telling the truth. Now shut up and rest.”

_________________________________

Despite Bakugou’s insistence that you stay in bed, word of your condition had spread among your classmates, and it wasn’t long before a few of them came knocking.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” Mina burst into the room, her usual enthusiasm dampened by concern. She carried a small bag of snacks, which she set on your bedside table with a flourish.

“I’m fine, really,” you said, offering her a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, they’re fine,” Bakugou interjected from his seat, his voice dripping with irritation. “Now get out.”

“Bakugou, be nice!” Kirishima appeared behind Mina, giving his friend a pointed look before turning to you. “We just wanted to check on you, Y/N. You scared us a little back there.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you said, guilt creeping into your tone. “I just… overdid it.”

“You think?” Bakugou muttered under his breath.

Kirishima chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, we’re glad you’re okay. Just take it easy, all right? And don’t let Bakugou boss you around too much.”

“Too late for that,” you joked, earning a glare from Bakugou.

After a few more minutes of chatting, Mina and Kirishima finally left, though not without a promise to check in on you again later. As soon as the door closed, Bakugou let out an irritated huff.

“They don’t know when to leave,” he grumbled.

“They’re just worried,” you said, leaning back against the pillows. “You don’t have to be so rude.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need a damn audience while I’m trying to take care of you,” he shot back.

You raised an eyebrow. “Trying to take care of me? Is that what this is?”

“Shut up,” he muttered, his cheeks flushing again.

_________________________________

That night, long after Bakugou had begrudgingly left your room, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling. His words from earlier echoed in your mind.

“You’re not weak, Y/N.”

It was such a simple statement, yet it meant more to you than you could explain. For as long as you could remember, you’d been battling the fear that your anemia made you a burden. You hated the idea of being someone others had to take care of.

But Bakugou didn’t see you that way.

You weren’t sure when he’d started paying such close attention to you, but his protectiveness was undeniable. It was infuriating at times, but it also warmed your heart in a way you couldn’t ignore.

_________________________________

When you woke the next morning, the first thing you noticed was the smell of food.

Groggily sitting up, you saw Bakugou standing by your desk, a tray of breakfast in his hands.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice still heavy with sleep.

“What’s it look like?” he replied, setting the tray down on your lap. “You’re eating before training today.”

You blinked at him, surprised. “You made this?”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “It’s just eggs and toast. Not like I cooked a five-star meal.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you picked up your fork. “Thanks, Bakugou.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, looking away. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

As you ate, you noticed how he lingered by the door, his usual impatience replaced by something softer.

“Are you gonna watch me the whole time?” you teased.

“Maybe,” he shot back.

_________________________________

Over the next few weeks, Bakugou’s concern for you became an undeniable part of your routine. He started carrying snacks and water bottles with him during training, shoving them at you whenever he thought you looked tired. He adjusted his own training schedule to keep an eye on you, even if it meant sparring with someone else so he could watch from a distance.

And while he never outright said it, his actions spoke volumes.

One day, after a particularly exhausting training session, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the gym, your legs dangling over the side as you tried to catch your breath. Bakugou appeared beside you, handing you a cold water bottle without a word.

“Thanks,” you said, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip.

“Tch. Don’t mention it,” he muttered, sitting down next to you.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the sounds of the gym fading into the background. It was moments like this that reminded you just how much Bakugou cared, even if he’d never admit it.

“You’re not weak, you know,” he said suddenly, his voice softer than usual.

You turned to look at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone.

“Thanks, Katsuki,” you said quietly, using his first name for the first time in weeks.

He didn’t say anything, but the faint smile that tugged at his lips was enough.

[strryhaze]

bobby & david kennedy

“There was some level on which David tapped his father’s sensitivity. You would find him walking with David or with his arm around David. David just seemed to need it.”

— chuck mcdermott.

“If his father’s death hit David harder than the others, it was because there had been a special bond between them—both were the runts of the litter, sandwiched into the middle of a large family. He was the only one in the family who hadn’t been enthusiastic about the run for the presidency. For weeks after his father’s announcement, David had been plagued by recurring nightmares about Bobby’s death. Distraught over episodes that seemed premonitory, and missing the special attention his father had given him, David had gotten in trouble for throwing rocks at cars passing by Hickory Hill. The day of the California primary, he had joined his father in Los Angeles. The two of them had been swimming and he had felt himself being carried out by the undertow when his father grabbed him, scraping his own head on the ocean floor as he reached for David’s slippery arm. With a teenager’s melodrama, David had decided that he owed his father a life and would look for an opportunity to pay him back in the years ahead. That night as he sat in front of the television set in his room in the Ambassador Hotel and watched [his father] bleeding on the floor downstairs, one of the thoughts he had was that the debt would be forever undischarged.”

“As the worst year of their young lives came to a close, they decided to surprise their mother at Christmas with a book comprised of letters about their father. David’s said: ‘Daddy was very funny in church because he would embarrass all of us by singing very loud. Daddy did not have a very good voice. There will be no more football with Daddy, no more swimming with him, no more riding and no more camping with him. But he was the best father there ever was and I would rather have him for a father for the length of time I did than any other father for a million years.”

— the kennedy’s, peter collier & david horowitz.

“David looked at himself in those pictures like they were a strange sort of mirror. He looked at them half a dozen times at least, mesmerized by them, and he kept asking me questions. There was a tremendous desire to know his father, to really know him.”

— john seigenthaler.

“David and Bobby were so close. They were inseparable. David was small, a runt like Bobby had been.” Ethel then explained to Noelle (her secretary) that David had always been a very sensitive youngster, very introverted, "not like the other boys. He and I would go and pick flowers while his brothers were killing each other with their crazy games", Ethel recalled with a smile.

— ethel kennedy.

“I think about death a lot. Time hasn’t erased the death of my father from my mind. My family thinks I’m no good and that I’ll never beat my problem. They’ve written me off. I’m trying to get it together, but it’s so difficult. I’m having a terrible time at it. And the thing I want most in the world is the approval of my family, but they want nothing to do with me. All I want is to be with my father.”

— david kennedy, april 1984.

“Like his family, his friends had all wondered at one time or another if he would kill himself; but when it finally came his death was nonetheless shocking. ‘I keep asking myself why. Why David? Why now? All I can come up with is that maybe his father was looking down from heaven and saw all the hell these people were putting him through and said, ‘Come on, You’ve suffered enough. It’s time you were up here with me.’”

— nancy narleski.

Years after David Kennedy’s death, his cousin, Patrick Kennedy recalled a haunting and heartbreaking recollection he had with his father, Teddy, sitting beside his cousin’s casket: “My father remembered Bobby telling him that, as a father, he needed to spend more time with David. He also recounted a story Uncle Bobby had told him just before his own death. On the day before the California primary, the Robert Kennedys had gone swimming in Malibu, to relax together. David had been knocked over by a wave and got caught in the undertow, and his father had come to his rescue. When Uncle Bobby told my father this story, he talked about ‘the undertow’ in broader terms, how there was an undertow in life and David, who was only then thirteen, already seemed vulnerable to it. And then, just hours later, Uncle Bobby was murdered as David watched the TV coverage in their hotel room upstairs. It was unbelievably poignant to hear my father tell this story. David was in the casket next to us. And I wasn’t that much older than David when his father worried whether he could survive the undertow.”

[pricklyjim]

Sorry to ask. I was just curious about Arcee and Elita lore?

I WAS WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO ASK THIS BEFORE I START RAMBLING!! YESSS—LET’S DO SOME LORE DROPS!!

MARRIED IN MY HEAD^^

Arcee: “If I had to re-walk into the mines and almost get crushed by a crate in order to meet you… I’d do it again without hesitation”

Elita: “and i’d run to save you a every single time…”

Origins:

Elita was a middle-caste Cybertronian, working as a mining supervisor. slightly stern, yet empathetic, and fiercely protective of her workers, bending rules to prioritize their safety while maintaining high efficiency to keep the government off her ass.

Arcee, is from the upper caste, serving as a diplomat and secretary to aid the Primes, managing peace talks, social events, and Cybertronian national affairs. She’s calm, graceful, and loyal to her duties but unfortunately very unaware of the struggles of lower-caste workers.

their meeting:

their meeting starts when Sentinel prime tasks Arcee to visit the mines to gather feedback, brushing it off as too unimportant to attend to himself.

she accepts, it’s not like she can say no, so she just gets on with it and heads down there to the most well-known mine.

there, In the mines, she’s nearly crushed by a crate of raw energon but is saved by Elita at the last second when she pushes her out the way.

Their first interaction is slightly awkward and tense: Elita questions Arcee’s presence there and her motives— saying she won’t make it long im the mines.

but Arcee insists on staying anyway, to complete her report properly, of course, much to Elitas dismay.

now working together, Arcee, over time, grows fond of Elita’s courage and compassion for others, while Elita is drawn to Arcee’s genuine desire to understand the miners’ struggles, asking them questions and even helping out when she can.

after many late-night conversations and shared drives across Cybertron, their professional relationship deepens into a friendship—and eventually, love.

first comes chatting, then comes courting, then comes:

When the caste system inevitably collapses and the Primes fall along with rodimus, the invisible social barriers keeping arcee and elita apart disappear. They confess their feelings under the sight of the shining ores in the mine and deepen their bond through a simple conjunx ceremony, alone, away from prying eyes.

siding with the Autobots:

Elita’s leadership and people organisational skills make her valuable to Orion Pax’s cause as he officially forms the Autobots, while Arcee’s diplomatic experience’s help navigate any future relations and peace talks with Megatron.

whilst the pair join the fight, Arcee also runs into Magnus!

Once reunited with Magnus, an old friend, Arcee finds ground to bond more closely in their shared work, even helping give advice and support to Magnus as he silently mourns Rodimus’s absence, trying to be a pillar of support to the mech who once looked out for her.

Through every challenge, Elita and Arcee’s love endured, and to them, as long as they’re besides one another, that makes them content, and helps them to fight for a future filled with peace and prosperity.

[jims note]

I wanted them together because although I love seeing optimus and elita together, SHE NEVERRR GETS A HAPPYYYYY ENDING, like DUDE- give her a break!!! 😭

plus I wanted elita to love and fall in love with someone who is able to give her that much love back and more and be fulfilled, and also to be a beacon of happiness in a story with one relationship that’s essentially a man who misses his dead situationship and another who is having to deal with loving a poet/now turned sad dictator.

Plus they’re cute :)

[soleilpinto]

Cruising in Papaya: Private but not Secret ˚‧｡⋆🍁

“Life’s Better on Saturn ” ˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚ (Saturn, SZA)

Synopsis: Y/N Laurant, a glamorous socialite, meets Lando Norris during a race weekend, sparks fly between the two, but as their feelings deepen, they struggle to balance their secret relationship with their public lives, all while navigating the pressure of the fast-paced F1 scene.

Genre: (Some) Angst, Fluff, Romance

AU: Social Media and Written!au

Pairing: Lando x Afab!Socialite!Reader

Warnings: None

Note: Did not expect to become so busy lately, this is the final part before the actual finale so everyone buckle up 😭 Thank you all for the support once again and as always don’t forget to like + reblog as a form of support!

Cruising in Papaya Masterlist. (Prev./Next.)

@pitlanespy the way y/n and lando are handling their relationship is so refreshing. they’re not flaunting, but they’re not hiding anymore either. we love a balanced couple

@chicanechatter y/n and lando have mastered the art of keeping it private but not secret. leave them alone and let them enjoy their love!

@turn1drama ok but y/n keeping things private yet giving us hints every now and then is such a power move. the girl knows her pr

@papayaruIes well duh, she’s a socialite. she’s practically an expert

@f1gossipupdates I can’t believe Y/N and Lando are finally being open-ish. Like, she really said ‘we’re together, but y’all don’t need all the details.’ I respect it!

The short off-season break had been a rare pocket for you and Lando to relax without the rush of race weekends or the scrutiny of flashing cameras. It was a crisp afternoon in Monaco, the sun reflecting off the gentle waves as the two of you sat on the terrace of Lando’s apartment overlooking the harbor.

With steaming cups of coffee in hand and a blanket draped over your shoulders, the moment felt calm, natural—far removed from the chaotic world outside.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” Lando broke the silence, his voice soft. “Being able to just exist without worrying about anyone watching.”

You glanced at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It does. I was almost starting to forget what that felt like.”

The two of you had tiptoed the fine line between privacy and secrecy, but the responses to your soft launch had been surprisingly supportive.

Fans who had once speculated endlessly about your relationship now seemed to respect the boundaries you were trying to set. It was refreshing, almost liberating.

Lando set his mug down and turned to face you fully, his expression growing more serious. “I’ve been thinking about something,” he began, hesitating just enough to make you raise an eyebrow.

“That sounds ominous,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled but didn’t look away, his blue eyes searching yours.

“I don’t want us to hide anymore,” he admitted.

“I mean, I know we’ve already agreed to keep the details of our relationship private—and I want to stick to that. But I hate the thought of going to the next Grand Prix without you. It feels wrong now like I’m leaving a part of me behind.”

Your heart softened at his words, but you couldn’t help the cautious tone in your response. “Lando, you know how intense it can get. Even with the positive reactions, there will always be backlash. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

He reached out, taking your hand in his.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything. I’ve been through enough to know that people will always have something to say, but it doesn’t matter to me. What matters is us—and I want you there with me, not just in the background but by my side. I think we can handle it together.”

You studied his face, finding nothing but sincerity in his expression. It was hard not to be moved by his resolve. You had spent so much time questioning if the two of you could make it work, but Lando’s unwavering confidence in your relationship made you want to believe it too.

“And you think it’ll make things easier if I’m there with you?” you asked, your voice teasing but soft.

He grinned, leaning closer. “I know it will. Plus, you being there might actually make all those post-race media sessions bearable.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, Norris. You win. I’ll come with you to the next Grand Prix—but you’d better promise to share some of the attention.”

His face lit up with a mixture of relief and happiness, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Deal.”

As the two of you sat back, the afternoon sun casting a golden glow around you, it was clear that this decision marked the start of a new chapter. No more hiding in shadows or ducking behind corners. You would face the world together, one race at a time.

The soft hum of Monte Carlo filled the space between your words as you sipped your coffee, the warmth of the mug grounding you.

Pietra leaned back into the plush armchair across you, her curiosity palpable as the sunlight bathed your living room in a golden hue.

“So,” Pietra began again, her voice playful yet genuinely inquisitive. “Are we finally getting the tea on you and Lando?”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head as you set your mug down on the table. “You’re so nosy.”

“Nosy?” she retorted, raising an eyebrow. “Please, I’ve been invested ever since that media meltdown since your birthday. There’s a difference. Now spill.”

Her lighthearted tone brought a smile to your face, but the memories of the past month made your chest tighten slightly.

Pietra had been one of your closest confidantes ever since you met Lando's close circle, one of the few who truly understood the chaos of public scrutiny and the complexities of trying to maintain a personal life within it.

If anyone could handle the details of what you’d been through, it was her.

Taking a deep breath, you began. “We’re good now,” you said, the words feeling like a balm as they left your lips. “Really good, actually. But it wasn’t always like that.”

Pietra’s expression shifted, her teasing giving way to concern. She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. “What happened?”

You hesitated, your fingers lightly tracing the rim of your coffee mug as you gathered your thoughts.

“When everything blew up, it felt like the world was against us. The media was relentless, fans were speculating every little thing, and it felt like we couldn’t catch a break. It all came to a head, and we ended up having this huge fight.”

Her brows knitted together. “Over the media?”

“It was more than that,” you admitted. “It was the pressure, the constant hiding, the fear that we’d never be able to have something real outside of all the noise. Lando was frustrated, and I don’t blame him. But he said some things…” You trailed off, the memory still stinging.

Pietra reached over, placing a comforting hand on yours. “Things that hurt?”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah. And I was so overwhelmed, I left. Went back to Saint Tropez. For a while, I thought that was it for us. I couldn’t see how we’d come back from it.”

She squeezed your hand gently, her voice soft. “But you did.”

A small smile tugged at your lips.

“We did. During the break, Lando found out I was in Monaco. He called me—said he wanted to talk, that he couldn’t leave things the way they were. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see him, but when I did…” You paused, exhaling deeply. “It felt like the right thing to do.”

Pietra’s eyes softened, her smile encouraging you to continue.

“We had a long talk. About everything—what we want, what we’re afraid of, what we’re willing to do to make this work. It wasn’t easy, but we both realized that letting go wasn’t an option. We care about each other too much to let all the outside noise ruin what we have.”

Pietra leaned back, her smile widening. “That’s huge, Y/N. It sounds like you both really fought for this.”

You nodded, the relief of the memory settling over you. “We did. And now, we’re taking it one step at a time. He asked me to come to the next Grand Prix with him. He doesn’t want us to hide anymore, and honestly, I don’t either. But we’ve agreed to keep things private—no oversharing, no giving the media more than they need. Just us, on our terms.”

Pietra’s grin turned mischievous. “Oh, I can’t wait to see the paddock’s reaction when you show up with him again. The fans are going to lose it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m sure they will. But for the first time, it doesn’t feel overwhelming. It feels… manageable.”

“That’s because you’re doing it the right way,” Pietra said confidently. “You’re setting boundaries, and you’re doing this together. It’s going to be okay.”

“Thanks, Pietra,” you said, your smile grateful. “It feels good to finally have some clarity, to know that we’re in this together.”

“Absolutely,” she said, a sparkle in her eye. “But don’t think you’re off the hook. You owe me every detail about how it goes when you’re back at the Grand Prix.”

You laughed, feeling a lightness you hadn’t in weeks. “Oh, trust me, I’ll have plenty to share.”

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, you couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of hope. For the first time in a while, the future with Lando felt bright, and you were ready to take on whatever came next—together.

liked by mclaren, lando and others

laurant.yn off-season kick off

francisca.cgomes 😍

mclaren starting the break right 🧡

lando ❤️

@f1landolove SHE POSTED HIM. SHE REALLY POSTED HIM. Y/N AND LANDO ARE OFFICIALLY OFFICIAL. I’M SCREAMING. 😭❤️ 

@paddockqueen_ Not me refreshing my feed 100 times today just to confirm it wasn’t a fever dream. Y/N posted Lando on her MAIN. THE MAIN!!! 🔥👀

@pitstopsocialite_ Y/N really said, “Soft launch era is OVER.” That pic of Lando is giving boyfriend energy. We love to see it. 🥰

@f1overdrive Okay, but I’m lowkey jealous… Y/N Laurant is the definition of having it all. Fashion icon + F1 driver boyfriend? Goals

@neutralnora Honestly, happy for them. Y/N seems like she keeps Lando grounded, and he deserves that. 🥹

@shadypaddock I give it six months. Relationships in the spotlight rarely last. 🙄

The energy in Singapore was electric, the vibrant city buzzing with excitement as race weekend loomed closer. You stood beside Lando, your suitcase rolling quietly behind you as you both exited the airport.

The humid air wrapped around you, mingling with the chatter of fans and photographers who had already spotted you.

Flashes of cameras ignited like small bursts of lightning, and the occasional murmur of your name reached your ears. You instinctively glanced at Lando, who gave you a reassuring smile, his hand brushing against yours.

“We’re really doing this,” you said softly, your voice a mix of nerves and determination.

“Yeah, we are,” Lando replied, his eyes meeting yours with steady resolve. “No more hiding. No more letting them control the narrative. It’s just us, and we’re not apologizing for it.”

The ride to the hotel was quiet, the occasional buzz of your phone from notifications breaking the silence. You knew the media frenzy was already kicking off—pictures and videos of the two of you had likely hit social media within minutes of your arrival. But for the first time, you didn’t feel the weight of it.

As you stepped into the hotel lobby together, the atmosphere shifted. Fans waiting in the lounge glanced your way, some pulling out their phones, their whispers barely audible over the soft music playing in the background.

“People are watching,” you said under your breath, your fingers brushing against his arm.

Lando chuckled lightly. “Let them watch. We’re not doing anything wrong.”

His nonchalant attitude eased the tension in your shoulders, and you found yourself smiling despite the circumstances. The two of you checked in without a hitch, the staff professional and discreet, even as you caught sight of a few camera flashes from outside the glass doors.

Once you reached the privacy of your suite, the tension you hadn’t realized you were holding finally began to dissipate. You sank onto the plush couch, letting out a long exhale.

“That wasn’t so bad,” you said, glancing at Lando as he placed your bags by the wall.

He sat beside you, leaning back with a grin. “See? I told you. We can handle this.”

You turned to face him, your expression softening. “It’s just… surreal. To finally be here with you, not worrying about every little thing. I mean, I know the rumors and gossip won’t stop, but it feels different now.”

“It does,” Lando agreed, taking your hand in his. “Because we’re not letting it control us anymore. We’re doing this our way, on our terms.”

You nodded, the warmth of his hand grounding you. “It’s going to take some getting used to, though. I’m sure the paddock will have a lot to say.”

“Let them,” Lando said with a shrug, his tone calm but firm. “I don’t care what they think, as long as you’re with me.”

His words sent a wave of reassurance through you, and you squeezed his hand gently. “You’re really good at this whole boyfriend thing, you know that?”

He grinned, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your temple. “I try.”

The two of you spent the evening talking, discussing how you’d navigate the paddock together, and agreeing to address any questions with a united front. By the time you went to bed, you felt a sense of peace you hadn’t in months.

The Singapore paddock buzzed with excitement, the air thick with humidity and anticipation for the race weekend ahead. As you and Lando walked through the gates together, it was impossible not to notice the ripple of energy your presence caused.

Fans lining the barriers gasped, some clutching their phones tightly as they captured the moment.

“There they are!” someone whispered loudly, their voice barely audible over the collective murmurs. “It’s Y/N and Lando!”

Flashes from cameras and phones lit up around you as you kept a steady pace beside Lando. He was calm, his expression relaxed but confident, while you mirrored his composure, your hand grazing his arm lightly as if to reassure yourself.

Fans erupted into chatter, their voices mixing with the distant hum of engines.

“Oh my God, they’re actually together.” “Do you think this means they’re official-official?” “They’re not hiding anymore, but they’re still so lowkey. I love it.”

As you passed a group of fans holding up McLaren flags, Lando glanced their way with a small wave and a quick smile. You couldn’t help but grin when you heard someone squeal, “He looks so happy!”

Inside the paddock, the atmosphere was no less intense. Team members and media professionals stole glances at the two of you, some openly curious, others trying to act nonchalant.

You caught sight of a camera crew lingering near the McLaren hospitality, their lenses subtly but unmistakably trained on you and Lando.

“Ready for the circus?” Lando muttered under his breath, leaning slightly toward you.

You smirked, keeping your gaze forward. “I think I can handle it. You’re the one who’s got to focus on racing.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers brushing yours in a fleeting touch. “I’ve got that part covered. It’s the rest of this that’s new for me.”

Before either of you could say more, you spotted Lily Zneimer and Hattie Piastri approaching from the McLaren hospitality, their faces lighting up when they saw you.

“You’re here!” Lily exclaimed, her voice full of excitement as she pulled you into a quick hug. “I was wondering when you’d show up!”

Hattie grinned, giving Lando a knowing look before turning to you. “And here I thought you’d keep us guessing forever.”

You laughed, your nerves easing slightly. “I figured it was time. Can’t keep hiding forever, right?”

“Exactly,” Lily agreed, linking her arm with yours. “And you’ve got us. The paddock isn’t so bad once you’ve got the right people.”

Lando excused himself briefly to check in with his team, leaving you with Lily and Hattie. You felt the stares around you but found yourself surprisingly unbothered, their presence grounding you.

When Lando returned, he didn’t hesitate to rejoin you, his arm brushing against yours in a way that felt both casual and intimate. He didn’t seem fazed by the whispers or the cameras subtly tracking your every move.

Instead, he leaned down slightly and murmured, “Told you we’ve got this.”

You glanced up at him, the corner of your mouth lifting into a small smile. “We do.”

As the two of you walked deeper into the paddock, side by side, it was clear to everyone watching: while you weren’t laying out the details of your relationship, you weren’t hiding it anymore, either. And from the way fans’ excited chatter filled the air, it seemed they couldn’t be happier to finally see you together.

© soleilpinto 25’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

Taglist: @bakingpiastries @linnygirl09

[thisisntmyrightera]

Our Glory - Jeon Jae Joon x Fem Reader

Plot: Jae Joon leave South Korea to avoid being part of a violence scandal and arrives in America to start his life again, finding the love of his life who makes him feel human for the first time. Despite the distance, no matter how much he avoids his reality, the ghost of his past will reach him wherever he is endangering everything he has achieved.

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Violence, Angst, Drama Warning: Themes of school violence, abuse of power, minors being harassed, harsh language.

A/N: The story is inspired by The Glory, however, some time periods have changed as well as situations where the protagonist will be part of changing some original scenes.

I appreciate you reading and being part of this new story, as always I hope to please your readers' hearts.

I'll be back soon.

No one would dare to approach the daughter of the most sought-after heir in all New york, in fact no one would even think of marrying a girl as independent and grown up as you.

Your single status was a myth in the chats of the women of your class, how could such a pretty girl, with so much class, be single, hadn't she found someone at her level? Dozens of boys had asked you out because their parents had forced them to do it, that was what the line was, an heir with an heiress, right? But you decided to shoo each one of them away like flies on fresh flowers, too spoiled, arrogant, lazy, they weren't your type.

That night, the night of the charity gala where all the millionaires seemed to attend only to boast about how much their company had given to charitable causes seemed like just another boring night, with nothing to do but stand next to your parents smiling holding a glass of the most expensive (and disgusting) wine that you barely sipped.

Sir, nice to meet you again - a man with a foreign accent and Asian features approached and shook your father's hand before bowing slightly to your mother and you.

The pleasure is mine Mr. Jeon, It would be nice to meet at the club for breakfast one day. How long will you be in town this time? - your father smiled kindly. Despite his status and large bank account, you could tell and presume that he was a generous man with a good heart, and it always made you feel good to hear that you were just like him.

Fortunately this time we will stay a little longer, we are planning to live in America, I have some business in mind and I have started to build a club in this part of the country, you know, bring a little bit of Korea to America so they can get to know a little bit about us - both men continued chatting, laughing perhaps pretending that one was interested in the other's talk

You just sighed and looked around, your high heels were starting to hurt in your heels, your hand was perhaps already numb from holding the same glass all night

Jae Joon how nice that you came - Mr. Jeon smiled patting his son's back making a gesture of displeasure when he noticed the aroma of cigarettes on his clothes - I want you to meet Mr. Y / L/N he is a great friend and excellent partner in bussiness

A pleasure sir - the man offered his hand shaking it firmly with a smile that made his cheeks become plump giving a tender touch to his face

Jae Joon I have heard a lot about you, it is a pleasure to finally meet you -Your father smiled looking at your mother and then lightly took your arm making you turn your face in a surprised way looking forward- this is Y/N my daughter

Nice to meet you miss - Jae Joon smiled at you slightly tilting his head making you respond with just a shy smile

''Another prospect for the inheritance again'' you thought feeling annoyed and bored of the same dynamic every time your father met the son of a bussines partner

It wasn't very difficult to think about it, you could take care of the business, for some reason you had finished college at the best school in Europe, you had experience and many times you were able to support your father in difficult decisions, what was the problem after all, you didn't need a man to be successful.

When you finally got out of the crowd and the air hit your face you breathed a sigh of relief, it didn't matter that it was cold outside, it was almost the end of November but it was still better than being suffocated between expensive perfumes and the aroma of hundreds of exotic dishes that you hated.

You found the first stone bench on the balcony decorated with plants to sit and rest, the pain in your ankles was a burning sensation that you felt constantly but you were forced to endure to look "elegant"

Are you bored too? - a deep and velvety voice made you come out of your trance while you slowly massaged your ankle

Excuse me? - you looked at him confused

People here are boring just talking about money and business - he sighed bringing a cigarette to her mouth lighting it quickly - you don't mind me smoking, right?

No, I was leaving anyway - you smiled at him kindly standing up to enter the large hall again

You know - his voice made you turn around looking at him not at all curious, just not seeming rude and leaving him talking to himself - I don't know many people around here, I'm new in town and it would be nice, I don't know, to go out someday to get to know each other, after all I'll be around here for a long time

I don't usually work as a tour guide Mr. Jeon, excuse me - you smiled ironically turning around annoyed at getting the same thing again every time someone met you, a boring date proposal

Your answer had frozen him in place, he had never gotten a rejection from any girl, in fact the women in his country fought to get even a little attention from him, this caused him a feeling of rejection that he had never felt, in fact, in these cases his anger would have shot up breaking a couple of plants and damaging the property but as much as he tried to get upset he couldn't find where he had kept that feeling, he simply felt alone and rejected.

With the days you became more and more convinced that you would probably never find an honest man, in your class they didn't exist, they only looked for contacts and last names, it was clear that was why most of them looked for you and to be honest it wasn't something you were looking for, you enjoyed your single life, going out with your friends and doing everything as you wanted without giving explanations to anyone, although sometimes, you couldn't help but feel jealous and lonely seeing how most of them had someone to share with.

Nobody is at your level or maybe you just aren't lucky enough? - Ashley laughed, drinking from her glass with her left hand, showing off her (third) engagement ring

I can have any man I want, but that doesn't mean I'll go to bed with everyone, it's not my style - you smiled at her, drinking, making your other friends laugh

Oh yeah? And who have you wanted? Because we've never met anyone, right? - she smiled mockingly, making your friends erase their smiles, settling down a bit

Danielle was a little smarter, she changed the topic of the conversation to avoid awkwardness among the group, but in your head you couldn't stop thinking about your parents' words.

''I'm getting old, I'd like to see you have a happy life like mine, I'd like to have grandchildren, that's all''

''SaeHyeon has talked to me a lot about his son, he told me that he asked you out and you didn't accept, he seems very interested in you, why don't you give him a chance?''

Maybe… after all, they were right.

So, a couple of weeks later you decided to change your lifestyle and go for what everyone said was "wonderful." Your father was surprised to see you ready in your sportswear to accompany him to the Jeon golf course. He knew you perfectly so he didn't mention anything and just gave you a slight smile so as not to make you uncomfortable with your decision where you clearly weren't interested in talking about business.

The trip was short and when you arrived you were surprised by the architecture so elegant and different from that of your country, very minimalist and clean, the rooms were large, with furniture that combined perfectly and large windows, you could hear your father talking to a partner in the distance but your attention was totally given to the beauty of the place.

After a while and after having breakfast in the large room full of tables and delicious food you were able to go out to see the gardens, the golf carts passed by and every step you took showed you natural places where people showed their skills on the game.

Y/N?…what a surprise to see you here - Jae Joon smiled approaching while a couple of men watched him walk away with worried faces - go do your jobs, I'll see you later - he looked at them pushing them away with his hand making both of them leave almost running - I didn't know you were a member of the club

I'm not, my father came to talk to some members and I decided to accompany him - you smiled a little holding your sports bag with both hands

Don't worry, you can come here whenever you want, I'll tell them to let you in without bothering you with memberships or that paperwork - his smile didn't fade making you find him cute - would you like to come see the place with me?

Sure - you smiled at him again walking beside him with slow steps looking around as he talked about how many golf gardens they had, how many tennis courts and other boring ''rich'' people sports

What do you think? - His gaze was curious, as if looking for proof of you in the newly opened place

It's very nice, I've never seen anything so elegant and beautiful - you smiled looking at the small flower garden that adorned one side of an artificial lake

Do you like flowers? - he ask you curious

Yes, they're pretty, gardenias are my favorites - you looked at him nodding, returning your gaze to the lake where some people were practicing with their canoes

I'll ask them to plant gardenias all around the lake, how about a couple of benches too, so whenever you want to come and smell them you can sit comfortably on them - he smile moving his hands in front of both like designing the new additions to the place

What?…no it's not necessary…

Of course it is, if you're going to come here, I want you to feel at home - his face was so kind and warm that it made you feel a kind of butterflies and weirdness inside you

It wasn't possible that in just a couple of minutes you felt something for someone that you barely knew their name, it wasn't normal for you.

Sir, excuse the interruption, we need your help - a man dressed in a suit with a nervous face looked at him while rubbing his hands nervously on his pants

It seemed that the interruption had made Jae Joon change his face and personality in just a second, his jaw tensed and he rolled his eyes looking at him annoyed

I told you that I hate being interrupted, do I have to solve everything myself? - her hands clenched tightly causing the man to look down in fear

It's okay, you can go don't worry - you smiled at him feeling anxious from the tension of the moment adjusting your sports backpack on your shoulder

I'm sorry I have to go, some people are too stupid to do their own work - the veins in his eyes turned red as if the fury couldn't be contained within his body, he didn't even give you time to respond when both men quickened their pace towards a destination unknown to you.

After all you were relieved, the encounter ended before it became awkward, but you couldn't help but notice that his personality changed with the rest of the people.

That night while you were drying your hair your phone rang on your vanity full of perfumes, your biggest obsession.

''I'm sorry about this morning, would you like to go to dinner? JJ''

His simple message made you smile making you feel strange, did you have feelings for Jae Joon? The best thing would be to answer him, or maybe not? If you did it quickly he would realize that you were very interested, but if you waited a little he would feel that you were not interested at all.

''Of course xx''

The first date was exciting for both of you, you talked for hours about your lives and what you would like for the future, you could feel as if your destiny was destined, fortunately neither of you touched on business topics, it was the first time you went out with a man who didn't brag about how hard his father had worked for him just to spend the money and that made you feel comfortable.

Jae Joon couldn't believe how comfortable he felt with you and how much he enjoyed sharing time by your side, in fact he felt like another person when you were near him, his outbursts of anger and that anger that he always felt inside of him didn't exist, you were the calm that he needed to be happy despite sometimes remembering why he came to America and it made him feel afraid.

Within a few weeks they had already lost count of how many times they had gone out, in fact they never counted the times they saw each other because despite his work he always found a moment to visit you or you took advantage of your free afternoons to go to the club and eat with him even if it was only a couple of hours that they could be together.

It was around April when both of them attended the art gallery of Sara, Jae Joon's friend who thanks to a charitable cause was able to exhibit in America.

You walked around the place taking his arm while you contemplated the colors and shapes of the paintings, they were so different from what you were used to seeing, sometimes, reacting excitedly by the combinations you saw.

Isn't it pretty? I had never imagined seeing flowers colored like that - you smiled excitedly while your arms surrounded his

Yes… it's pretty - Jae Joon sighed looking away

It would look good in a living room with a carpet of that color, maybe combined with several colors, I don't know… what do you think? - you smiled again looking at him only getting him to nod uncomfortably taking the phone from his pocket

Honey give me a minute, it's something urgent - he looked at you embarrassed leaving quickly while leaving you standing in the middle of the exhibition

This time it was you who sighed, maybe you were going a little fast and you made him uncomfortable, maybe he wasn't looking for anything formal and your comments were going too far

Your boyfriend left you alone? - Sara laughed sarcastically approaching

He.. he's not my boyfriend - you smiled shyly taking your bag with both hands nervously

I know, don't worry, it's not your fault or did you make him uncomfortable princess, Jae Joon is colorblind he doesn't distinguish colors - she smiled mockingly leaning on a table while drinking from her glass - didn't he tell you?

He.. he's colorblind? - your heart felt like it had been squeezed and even though you had never done it with the intention of making him uncomfortable, you couldn't help but remember all the times you had mentioned something about colors - I didn't… I didn't know, sorry

I know, he never mentions it, it makes him feel stupid - she sighed playing with her empty glass - when we were in high school, the boys used to make fun of his condition, the poor guy only defended himself when he beat them in the face

I… god I feel so bad.. I… I'm going to see him - you looked at her shyly, fixing your hair nervously

Go honey, rescue your prince charming… or something like that - she laughed drinking the few drops left in the glass, while you hurried your step leaving feeling the fresh air hit your face

A couple of minutes walking through the parking lot was enough when you could find him standing next to a small planter, his head pointing to the sky while he placed drops of a small flower in his eyes boat, the sound of your heels on the pavement made him turn quickly wiping the liquid that ran down his cheeks, possibly what he had placed as lubricant.

Doll I'm sorry… give me a moment - he cleared his throat turning his back to you embarrassed

Jae Joon.. it's okay - you shyly took his arm delicately making him look at you embarrassed - Sara… she already told me… I'm sorry for not paying attention

Sara… - he sighed rolling his eyes tensing his jaw again - that damn…

You don't have to be upset, it's nothing to be ashamed of - you smiled at him adjusting the lock of his hair that the breeze had disarranged covering one of his eyes - your condition doesn't bother me if that's the reason you hadn't told me yet..

His eyes looked at you quickly, his heart skipped a beat feeling something different inside him again.

Jae Joon was the man of your dreams, he was tender and attentive to excess, he remembered every single thing about you as if he had a notebook especially for you in his head, he remembered important dates even the ones you sometimes forgot

During April with the excuse of seeing the city from the top of the Empire State he took you to the top to see the sunset, in reality, he only had eyes for you completely ignoring the sunset and the buildings that adorned the landscape.

Do you know what we came for? - he smiled at you while hugging you from behind resting his chin on your shoulder

We didn't go to see the city right? - you smiled at him, suspecting his intentions

No, I want the whole city to know from here that my girlfriend is the smartest and most beautiful woman on the planet and she's only for me - his face was hidden between the strands of your hair that he was obsessed with the aroma

I'm not your girlfriend Jae Joon… - you laughed trying to look at him making him laugh

Then I'll ask you here so everyone knows you're mine - he laughed kissing your cheek - do you want to be my girlfriend?

Mm.. I should think about it, what do you offer me Mr. Jeon? - you laughed turning a little until you could hug his neck with your arms making him laugh again surrounding your waist

I promise that from today you will live the glory every day we spend together, I can even swear that you are the future Mrs. Jeon and nobody can change that

Then let's live the glory Mr. Jeon..

Part 2

[lilou0401]

Choi Seunghyun, let's not fall in love

Choi Seunghyun x fem!reader

Summary: G-Dragon's younger sister struggles to escape his shadow, yearning to be known for herself rather than as "his little sister." Her life becomes more complicated when she falls for his best friend, T.O.P, a charming gentleman she knows she can't have. The emotional tension peaks when she watches the band rehearse "Let's Not Fall in Love," a song that mirrors her forbidden feelings.

Warnings: a bit angst

Masterlist

You have always lived in his shadow. Being G-Dragon’s little sister isn’t as glamorous as people think- it’s a title you never wanted. To everyone else, you're just "his little sister," nothing more. No matter how hard you try to make a name for yourself, you're always overlooked.

You had to expect that he hardly has any time left, or that people would take pictures of you and follow you, but worst of all, that girls would try to suck up to you just to get closer to him. You've already lost so many friends because of this and it was exhausting.

But what made it worse was him- Choi Seunghyun. Your brother’s best friend. He’s kind, charming, a true gentleman… and completely off-limits. Yet, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't stop your heart from betraying you.

You hated yourself for it. For the way your chest tightened every time he smiled at you. For the way you catched yourself stealing glances when he was not looking. And for the way you imagined, just for a second, what it would be like if things were different.

But they were not. He was your brother’s best friend, part of the world you have been desperately trying to step out of. Falling for him wasn’t just wrong, it was impossible. You knew that.

But you still couldn't help but be proud of your brother, he has achieved so much in his life and he has done so with a lot of hard work. He and his friends have managed to grow together and they now called themselves Bigbang. You really had respect for them and had supported your brother all the way to this point, even if it meant suffering yourself. But there were also good things, you were invited to each of their concerts without having to pay anything, you were allowed to stand in the front row, and you were also allowed to watch them at practice and even give tips.

And that was exactly what you were planning to do, your BMW turned into the narrow street of the studio's driveway. To the left and right stood men in suits, shoulders broad, and serious looks. They nodded at you as you drove between them to your personal parking space that your brother had organized for you. The tires rubbed against the pebbles as you came to a stop, perfectly parked in the space.

Your eyes briefly wandered to your rearview mirror to check your lip gloss and mascara before you opened the car door, slipping out. You slammed the black car door behind you shut before you made your way to the entrance. Two more men were standing at the door, bowing to you as you smiled at them before they opened the door for you.

Gratefully, you walked past them and through the door, the cold air conditioning circling your face as you walked down the long hall to the stairs on the far right that leaded up to the studio, where your brother and the others were surely already located.

When you get to the top, you straightened your top before clearing your throat, pushing down the door handle. At first they didn't notice you and you took the opportunity to sneak in, your gaze gliding around the room. Your brother Ji-Yong stood with his back to you as he speaked to his manager, his hands moving wildly as he speaked. All the back dancers had sat down on the floor, some sipping their water bottles from time to time as they talked to each other.

Daesung was talking to a sweet looking girl who was also one of the back dancers, her hands clasped together as she told him something to which he nodded in agreement. You put your purse in the corner with the rest as your eyes wandered to the last two members of the band.

First, your eyes tried to ignore the obviously tall silhouette of the handsome man with white dyed hair as they wandered to Taeyang, who was pressing his hips against the wall, talking to the man in front of him. Although your gaze didn't even land on that person, your body seemed to have thoughts of its own, as your pulse increased in seconds and beads of sweat formed on your neck.

It felt like the walls of the studio room were getting tighter with every breath you took, almost crushing you as you looked down at the floor as soon as his head turned in your direction. Your fingers pulled through the cotton fabric of your top to distract yourself, because it felt like his eyes were drilling burning holes through your head.

"Stop panicking, he's just looking at you. Calm down, gosh." You whispered to yourself, your breath shallow as you shook your head before you looked up again, but deliberately not in his direction, but at your brother, who now also spot you. He gave you a small smile and gestured to the chair next to you for you to sit down before he turned back to his manager.

Nodding to yourself, you sit down on the chair, your body a little tense as you tuck the strands of hair that have fallen out of your high ponytail behind your ear.

"Alright let's start." Your brother's voice brought everyone out of their conversations, and immediately everyone got into position and you had to force yourself not to look in his direction, your eyes fixed on everyone else but him.

The studio was alive with music, the beat of Let’s Not Fall in Love filling every corner of the room. You leaned back against the wall, trying not to be seen, but your eyes were glued to them. To him. And you cursed yourself for not even having managed five minutes without looking at him.

Seung-hyun moved with such ease, his tall frame perfectly in sync with the others. Every step, every gesture, was deliberate yet natural, like he was born to do this. You could tell they were trying to capture the bittersweet longing of the song in their movements, the subtle push and pull, the hesitant touches that mirrored the lyrics so perfectly.

But then it happened. His eyes met yours. Just for a second, his movements faltered, barely noticeable to anyone else, but you saw it. And in that moment, it felt like the room froze. The way he looked at you, with something you couldn’t quite name, was it curiosity? Concern? Something deeper?- made your heart race.

You wanted to leave, to escape the intensity of it all, but your feet wouldn’t move. The choreography continued, each step tugging at your emotions, until you couldn’t tell where the music ended and your feelings began.

Your heart was pounding so loudly in your chest, you were sure everyone in the studio could hear it pounding. Your ears buzzed from the bass that resounded loudly through the room and a lump formed in your throat as you saw a emotion in his brown eyes, his hand holding his microphone at an angle in the air as he sang his lyrics into it, without even looking away from you.

Watching him move, his focus, his grace- it was all too much. For a moment, you thought he looked at you differently. But maybe that was just your heart playing tricks on you again.

It felt like everything you have been holding back threatened to spill over. The lyrics of the song took on another meaning, a much more serious one, and it hurt, it hurt to know that things would never work out between you.

You told yourself to look away, to break the moment before it consumed you. But you couldn’t. His gaze lingered longer than it should have before he turned back, falling back into the rhythm as if nothing had happened. Yet you knew he felt it too- the tension, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

The choreography became more intimate, the dancers moving closer, hands almost touching before pulling away. It was a perfect visual for the song’s meaning: love held at arm’s length, restrained by fear and doubt. It was heartbreak in motion, and every step felt like it was pulling you further into your own feelings for him.

You clenched your fists, trying to steady youeself. What were you even doing here? Watching him like this, torturing yourself with something that could never be. When the music stopped, the silence was deafening, and you realized you’d been holding your breath.

"Did you like it?" His voice startled me. His breathing was heavy from dancing, his dyed blond hair laid wildly on his head, he wore a blue shirt that was unbuttoned at the top and yoz noticed light eyeliner under his big eyes.

You hadn’t noticed him walking over, his face glistening with a light sheen of sweat, his usual confident demeanor softened. He wasn’t Ji-Yong's’s best friend in this moment, or a global star. He was just Seung-hyun. And that made it so much harder.

"It… it was beautiful." You stammered, your voice barely above a whisper and you scold yourself in your head for sounding so nervous

He smiled, that same warm, disarming dimple smile that always left you reeling. "Good. That’s what we’re going for."

You nodded, afraid that if you said any more, your voice might betray you. Because if he knew, if he even guessed at the feelings your were fighting so hard to hide, it would ruin everything.

There was a brief silence, your gaze on the floor, avoiding eye contact, while you still felt his eyes on your. He seemed to be analyzing you, as if he wanted to guess what you were thinking. And you prayed that he couldn't see how nervous his presence made you and how your palms were sweating, which you immediately wiped on your black leggings.

You heard him sigh softly before he sat down on the chair next to yours, his body turned sideways towards you, upper body leaning forward to be closer to you while his arm rested on the back of the chair. Your eyes widened momentarily before you forced your body to relax as you lifted your head and gave him a small smile.

His features softened as he smiled back, your eyes immediately going to his little dimple, your heart skipping a beat and you had to stop yourself from pocking it. Your mouth opened a crack before you closed it again, shaking your head, not even knowing what you wanted to say, but he seemed to do the job for you.

"You okay? You look a little uncomfortable." His voice is soft and his eyes wander down your face, searching for any discomfort. Your lips pressed together, unsure of how to respond, spreading your lip gloss accidentally. "Uhm... no, I'm fine, I'm just a little cold."

His lips curved into a smile as he watched you, his hand lifting for a moment before he slowly and carefully placed it around your chin, his thumb slowly running under your lip, his touch so gentle, and brushing away the now painted-over lip gloss from there.

Your lips parted in surprise, a shaky breath escaped you and a tingling sensation spread throughout your stomach. He paused briefly to look you in the eyes before his hand moved away and hung loosely down his side.

If you weren't mistaken, you could have sworn you saw a hint of pink on his cheeks, but you were sure your cheeks were twice as pink. He cleared his throat and with that the moment ended and you leaned back a little, your body still on fire.

Without thinking twice, his hands reached for his jacket, lined with warm fur on the inside, before he slowly placed it over your shoulders. Goosebumps spread across your arms as the fluffy fur brushed against your arms and immediately your fingers gripped the sides of his jacket so that it wouldn't slip off your shoulders when he pulled his hands back.

"There. It'll definitely keep you warm. Daesong turned on the air conditioning so we wouldn't faint from sweating during rehearsals." A short laugh escaped him, the sound music to your ears, as he leaned back in his chair, running his hand through his white hair.

"Makes sense." You replied with a grateful smile as you pulled the cozy jacket closer to you, the sweet smell of his perfume revealing your nostrils, possibly the only reason you pulled them even tighter. You would love to smell them all until his scent was the only thing your sense of smell could smell and he was the only thought in your head.

Before him or you could say anything else, one of the dancers called his name, pulling his attention back to the group. He gave you a small nod before turning away, leaving you sitting there, your heart racing and your chest tight.

You should have left then. You should’ve walked out of that studio, out of this situation, before your emotions swallowed you whole. But instead, you stayed. You watched as they started again, the music filling the space, their movements perfectly synchronized yet brimming with raw emotion.

This time, you focused on the choreography, trying to distract yourself. The way their hands reached out but never quite connected, the way their steps carried them closer only to pull them apart again- it was beautiful and devastating. It felt like a reflection of everything you were feeling, a silent reminder of the line you couldn’t cross.

But then there was Seunghyun again, moving like the song had been written for him. Every glance, every step seemed so effortless, yet you could see the focus in his expression. When he turned toward you mid-routine, his gaze landed on yours once more, and your breath caught.

It felt like he was dancing just for you.

You shook the thought away, silently scolding yourself for even thinking something so ridiculous. But when the music stopped again and the room filled with chatter and laughter, you noticed him walking back toward you.

"You’re still here, how long are you staying?" he asked, his voice low and calm. You shrugged, trying to play it off. "It’s a good song. Hard to walk away from something like that." You began, before your gaze wandered to your brother, who was laughing at something Taeyang said to him, his head thrown back, and immediately your heart sank and felt heavier, guilt for allowing yourself to think like that about Seunghyun again making its way into your chest.

"Uhm well I'm waiting for Ji-Yong, he wanted to meet me for dinner after practice." You continued while exhaling deeply as you looked up to meet his eyes and you couldn't help but want to melt at the way he looked at you.

He smiled again, but there was something different in his eyes this time, something searching. "You’ve always been honest, you know that? It’s one of the things I like about you."

Your heart skipped a beat. What was he doing? Why was he saying things like that? "Thanks, I guess." You mumbled, unsure what to think of his sentence, your head lowered again, your fingers playing with the end of your top.

A deep laugh escaped him as he tilted his head slightly to the side, his hand came up to scratch the back of his head, a habit you often noticed him doing when he was nervous. "You're welcome, I guess."

You smile uncertainly at him as you slowly stood up from the chair, his jacket slipping off your shoulders, your hands caught it before it could fall to the floor and carefully placed it around the back of your chair before you slowly intertwined your hands and turned your head to Ji-Yong, who at that very moment finished his conversation with Taeyang and made his way towards the two of you with his signature grin plastered on his face, completely unaware of the tension lingering between you two.

Your heart was still racing, but you forced a smile, hoping Ji-Yong wouldn’t notice how flustered you looked. He throwed an arm around your shoulder. "I told you we are good, didn’t I?" He gestured toward Seung-hyun and the other members, completely oblivious to the moment he had just interrupted.

"Yeah" I murmured, my voice unsteady. "You really are." A small smile graced your lips, your breath shallow as you laid your head on his shoulder.

Seung-hyun cleared his throat, his expression now calm and unreadable. "Your sister’s a good audience." he said casually, addressing Ji-Yong. "She’s honest. You don’t get that a lot." His eyes wandered down to you for a moment, a small smile on his lips as he winked at you discreetly, causing your heart to skip a beat.

Ji-Yong grinned at him, clearly amused. "That’s because she’s not afraid to call people out. Don’t let her fool you- she’s tough." I managed a small laugh, trying to keep up the facade. "I’m not that bad."

Your body stood up straight again as your brother's arm slowly slipped from your shoulders, ruffling your hair playfully, completely unaware of the tension still simmering beneath the surface. "You’re worse than you think,” he teased, turning to Seung-hyun. “But hey, at least she’s honest, right?"

Seung-hyun gave a small smile, but you noticed the way his eyes lingered on you for just a second too long. "Yeah. She is." Ji-Yong didn’t catch it—why would he? To him, this was just a casual conversation, lighthearted and harmless. But to you, every word, every glance, felt heavy with meaning.

Sighing and feigning annoyance, you hugged yourself as you stepped aside to put some distance between you and your brother. "Stop with the honest thing, you're pushing it." You murmured, hoping to distract attention from you.

"Anyway," Ji-Yong continued, as he crossed his arms in front of his chest and nudged you with his hip. "you should come by more often. You’re always saying you don’t get to see enough of what we do."

That was true, since Ji-Yong started with the songs, he was very busy and had hardly any time for anything else, including his family and that made our mom especially sad. "I might." You said softly, your mind still reeling.

Seung-hyun looked at you then, his expression unreadable but his eyes saying everything you didn’t want to hear. And as Ji-Yong continued chatting and laughing, completely unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface, you couldn’t help but wonder how much longer you could keep pretending.

[moonberry69]

Not that anyone asked, but here’s my take on Caleb. I am deeply in love with him, your Honor. Yes, I am still married to the fish but Robo Apple will be taking his rightful seat as 2nd husband.

Number 1, can we talk about how spoiled MC was with Caleb? Brat level spoiled. He spoiled her ROTTEN. He treated her like a princess. He doted on her to the absolute max and seemed to love every minute of it. That man did anything and everything she asked him to do and beyond. He bought her everything she wanted and then some. She’s probably never heard the word “no” come out of his mouth when it comes to what she wants. Drying her hair? Cooking her meals? Doing her laundry? Buying her small gifts or snacks? Making her little gifts? Nurturing and comforting her when she’s sick? Being her rock when she’s scared or upset? Doing her homework? Defending her against bullying? Supporting her through anything and everything? There doesn’t seem to be any limit to what he would do for her. His entire life has revolved around her, her feelings, her wants, and her well being, ALWAYS. Its seems like the only thing he really went after for himself was his career as a pilot until joining the Farspace Fleet. And with that, it appears he joined for her safety.

Sure, it could be argued that Caleb did all these things because he wanted her dependent on him. That he used this to be manipulative. If she’s dependent on him, she’ll always need him around. But I don’t think that’s really the case, at least, not entirely. Possibly, but I don’t think so.

I don’t think Caleb’s need to control MC comes from a lack of confidence in her ability to take care of herself, either. He did seem to be perfectly supportive of her becoming a hunter despite how dangerous the job is. Worried yes but supportive. The powerful people he is in league with are probably more than she could handle alone and that could have a lot more to do with his more blatant controlling nature. But, I still don’t think that’s all there is to it when it comes to his “control and protect” antics. We as MC in the story assume that he doesn’t believe in our strength but that’s because he lies about everything and consistently dismisses us when we say we can handle a situation. Our strength and capability are constantly underestimated. He’s done this is the past, as well (his bond memory comes to mind). What else are we supposed to think when he is constantly trying to cage us and asks for us to let him handle everything? I believe Caleb’s dependence on MC plays a huge role in his need to control. She’s his life line. His world doesn’t rotate unless she’s in it. Caleb the man starts and ends with MC. Based on his apartment description, his lack of socializing, etc. he’s been alive but hasn’t been living since the explosion. It would also explain his desperation in her needing his protection during the bond moment (again, just an example). Her losing him is fine. But if he lost her? He wouldn’t be able to bear it. Not having her be a constant in his life is one thing. Him living in a world where she no longer exists is another. He wouldn’t be able to cope.

Caleb is possessive, yes. It’s obvious he always has been based on his Tender Moments and Bond memory but he gave the tether he wanted MC on some slack. That could also be because, as he said, he was holding back. I don’t think his entire reason for being so controlling and possessive is ONLY because he wants her safe and wants her for himself. I think there are layers to it. Caleb is such a complicated character and I love and adore him. He has a lot of moving parts. I have the most overwhelming urge to coddle him and smother him with hugs.

I don’t believe Caleb is obsessed with MC herself, either. Hear me out! I think what Caleb is obsessed with is the need to keep her alive. This goes back to his dependence on her. His need to keep her alive at any cost and out of harm’s way drives him in to being obsessed. I don’t think his obsession is with her. I think he is just a scared, trauma ridden man that is deeply, maddeningly in love with a woman that he has dedicated his entire existence to, who, right now, is in severe, life threatening danger and has been harmed in the past. In that situation, who wouldn’t be a little obsessive?

I also can’t help but wonder if part of his reason for being so adamant about wanting to hide her away is because he has doubts in his own ability to keep her safe, especially now. He seems to be well informed about many of the powers at play behind the scenes of what the plan is for MC. Maybe he doesn’t know the plan itself but he seems to know at least some of the people. Enough of them to be terrified for MC. He may know that when the forces come down on MC to take her, in the end, he’s helpless to defend her. If he was with MC while she was being experimented on, he wouldn’t have been able to do anything to help her or protect her. He was forced to be a bystander and comfort her as he could. If that is the case, then him having doubts about his ability to save and protect her now would make sense.

We just really don’t know what Caleb experienced when he was a kid. I think if we knew more, a lot of Caleb’s “whys” would make total sense. It definitely seems like he was experimented on. Again, it could be that he saw and, possibly, understood what was happening to MC, since he didn’t seem shocked that she didn’t know who he was in one of the flashbacks at Gran’s house. Gran could have told him, of course, what the issue was with MC but based on some other flashbacks we are given, it seems like Caleb was around even before Gran was Gran. Until Infold confirms for us, that’s my theory. Either way, Caleb is clearly deeply traumatized. Whether it be from his own experiences, watching MC experience what she did, a mix of both, or something else, he isn’t well mentally. Throw in what he has gotten himself mixed up with currently and the man is sinking. We do know he’s a test subject now. Currently, it’s safe to assume he is sacrificing himself to protect MC. He wants nothing more than to save her. He wants to protect her peace, even if MC isn’t pleased with his methods. He does seem to hold on to hope that MC will understand. Which, to me, is kind of tragic.

Caleb comes off as if he wants MC to blindly trust him and put her faith in him, like she used to. It seems to throw him off that she doesn’t. He’s a bit naive in this department. MC can’t trust him because she knows he’s deceiving her, among other things. Caleb lies to protect, then asks for blind faith. MC recognizes it and then lies to keep Caleb at bay. They go in circles. Caleb is in vicious cycle of his own creation. MC can’t do what he’s pleading with her to do because of his own actions. He’s trying to fall back on how things used to be. He’s constantly bringing up memories and walks down memory lane. He’s clinging to what they had. The problem is nothing is the way it used to be. He doesn’t seem to be fully ready to accept it, yet. It’s painful to watch.

But, who knows? I could be completely off base and Caleb’s motives aren’t due to any of this and he really is just batshit nuts 🤷🏻‍♀️ Either way, I’ll take him.

[tuesdaykiss]

“touching toes”

rafe cameron social media au

“he’s over more and more, had to give him a whole drawer. to be honest, kinda like seeing his trainers by the door.” — olivia dean, ‘touching toes’.

synopsis: after finishing her fashion studies at college in nyc, y/n moves to outerbanks to live with her grandparents. she worries about the loneliness that comes with being in a new place, knowing only her cousin topper and other relatives… that is until she is acquainted with a certain cameron.

part - 26 | 27 — authors note at the end!

masterlist

hard launch: officially announcing that you’re in a relationship; an explicit and purposeful announcement of a romantic relationship, usually on social media.

rafecam

liked by sarahfan101, sarahupdates and 126,092 others

rafecam cats outta the bag 🤔

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sarahcameron fina-fucking-llyyyyyyy!

yourusername i love u

rafecam i love u most

sarahfan101 crying

sarahupdates congratulations 👏

heywardpope what? really? i didn’t know that!

jjmaybank are you serious rn

heywardpope sarcasm idiot

topthornton okay maybe you’re cute

user I KNEW IT

user2 i feel like i’ve been cheated on

your story

sarahcameron replied to your story:

what made him so lucky to get YOU EVERY NIGHT 😩😩😩😩

itscleo replied to your story:

you’re actually adorable i’ll cry

after the public announcement of your relationship, your life finally started to fall into place with rafe right in the centre of it.

within weeks you’d given up one of your drawers in your wardrobe, for the blue-eyed boy to keep his clothes. he’d basically become a permanent resident at your grandparents’ home; helping them around the house wherever possible.

the pogues grew more and more fond of rafe, and he eventually settled in nicely into your hangouts every now and again.

everything was perfect.

a timeline of your instagram since (over the course of about a year)…

yourusername

liked by sarahcameron, itscleo and 65,725 others

yourusername she got a boyfriend

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sarahcameron girlfriend***

rafecam excuse me

johnbr yeah excuse me

user if you look closely im crying in the back

user2 i acc love them

yourusername

liked by jjmaybank, rafecam and 92,732 others

yourusername black and white

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rafecam my baby

user ARGHHHHHH

sarahcameron OKAYYYYYY

heywardpope y’all are cute

boykelce rafe so whipped we ain’t played golf in 3 weeks

sarahfan101 poor golf deprived kelce

your story

liked by rafecam and 65 others

yourusername

liked by rafecam, sarahcameron and 150,625 others

yourusername 🍼

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sarahcameron omg i am crying

sarahcameron i can’t wait to be an aunt

yourusername you’ll be the best aunt ever

jjmaybank me and pope gonna be uncles right????

heywardpope please y/n, please rafe

rafecam gonna get my baby stealing from the country club

jjmaybank you bet

kiaracarrera congratulations beautiful ❤️

itscleo i can’t believe it!!!!!

jjmaybank baby pogue baby pogue

topthornton someone tell him this baby ain’t a pogue

user WHAT OMG

sarahfan101 we lost him gang

sarahupdates omg congrats!

rafecam

liked by yourusername, sarahcameron and 253,072 others

rafecam baby mama

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user that should be ME

sarahfan101 STOP

sarahcameron y’all gonna be the best parents ever

yourusername i love doing life with you

rafecam i love you

boykelce congrats bro

when nan and pops found out the news they were more than ecstatic. tears flooded their eyes, at the idea of welcoming a great grandbaby.

their happiness radiated throughout the home, and they invited rafe to move in…

your grandparents were the best help along the way, making sure everything was perfect for the arrival of your baby.

a/n: you’re probably sat there thinking what was that!?

in all honesty, i’ve really fallen out of love with this smau, and i’d dint want to just post saying ‘hey it’s over!’, so i thought i’d give you the happy ending you all deserve.

thank you for supporting me through my first piece of writing, it’s been a rollercoaster. there’s been highs and lows, and i’m so grateful for the experience.

for now, i’m going to dabble in one-shot writing, making sure my next fic is actually a lot more prepared and thought out!

thank you all for reading… this won’t be the last you’ll hear from me!

massive thank you to my taglist also!!!

taglist: @my-name-is-baby @yesshewrites1 @urbrunettebombshell @leather-n-velvet @fruitcakerafe @littlefreak-liz @wdwbts101 @akobx @lossfairy @marleymarleymarleymarley @jjmaybankmylovee @mbella607 @scream4mami @mrsdrewstarkeyy @honeyluvsatj @rafegetinmybed @hypnotizedstarkey