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daybreakrising · 1 month ago

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Not for the first time, he wishes more than anything that he could know the thoughts behind those serious eyes, behind that carefully stoic expression. He has noticed, more often of late, the more subtle micro-expressions that a stranger would surely miss upon the Iudex's face. It could be something as simple as the way a brow is arched, or a brief tense of a muscle in his cheek, but they are telling, and he feels he is coming to learn the language of Neuvillette. What troubles that mind of his now, he wonders, is this rare moment of openness between them?

Perhaps you are right, he says, but there is something in the way he says the words that leads Vautrin to suspect there is not as much conviction in them as there should be. How has he not noticed before that his Iudex has become – has always been? – as disillusioned with the state of Fontaine, with humanity itself perhaps, as he has? Carole must be right, he muses now. He is a blockhead sometimes.

He studies Neuvillette as the man studies the world beyond his window. No wonder, he thinks – this is someone who has presided over countless trials, seen the worst of the worst when it comes to the people he walks alongside in this world. Whatever being Neuvillette is, that amount of vitriol would wear upon anyone. "We will continue, because that is what we do. We push on, push past our doubts for the sake of the people we serve. I think it takes a certain kind of strength to do what we do, as… arrogant as that may sound coming from my own lips. Strength, indeed, when we cannot even fully believe in the system we stand for."

As long as there are people like you. Oh, there is nothing subtle about the way his shoulders straighten, how this casual lean of his shifts into something more upright. More subtle, he hopes, is the way he lights up at this compliment, how his expression shifts into a softer kind of smile indicative of his pleasure at being someone Neuvillette considers good. He has questioned that about himself many times, despite Carole's insistence that he has a good heart. He has brushed it aside – unfairly, certainly – because she reminds him so of his sister, whose naïve view of the world blinded her to reality. But he cannot claim that Neuvillette is naïve – and so his opinion hits deeper, perhaps, than any other's could. "They will. I am not an optimistic man, Neuvillette, as no doubt Carole would agree, but… I believe in that, at least."

He pushes off from the wall and, for a fleeting moment, he considers reaching out to the man beside him – nothing more than a simple touch on the arm, or shoulder perhaps. But it seems too familiar, even now, and so instead he merely tucks his hands at his back, adopting a similar pose to that of a soldier at rest, only… more relaxed. "I spied the gargantuan stack of paperwork on your desk when I entered. I am off duty now, but… if you need an extra set of hands for filing, I am known for being rather diligent with my work. I'd be happy to help."

So long ago? Ah, Neuvillette thinks to himself, the faintest glimmer of realisation shimmering in primordial gaze - so long ago, but not for him. Human lives are so short-lived that events of mere decades ago feel like an eternity: for the disgraced sovereign without a throne, the trial might as well have happened just the day before. Time stretches before him into an interminable, sinewy riverbed that will continue to flow without interruption, and its currents will carry those memories alongside him for as long as he will exist in this form. That is what he remembers the trial, so clearly and distinctly - that is why Vautrin's surprise takes him by surprise... and also not. This, perhaps, is just another thing that will forever remain a difference between them.

And for a brief moment, Neuvillette wonders if he has just made a mistake, sharing his doubts with his captain. His shoulders stiffen, just barely, imperceptibly beneath the robes, in the face of his astonishment... before he blinks, and looks at Vautrin, and does not even try to hide his own surprise. A laugh, and an agreement. Understanding. Neuvillette's eyes remain fixed and unblinking on Vautrin, studying every line of his face as though searching for a hint of what it is that might be unfurling here.

He finds no answer, except that he too, inexplicably, relaxes his shoulders, and turns his gaze back to the view outside the window.

" ... perhaps you are right." Neuvillette mutters - and sounds unconvinced. Is it worth it? No matter where he looks, the small nuggets of goodness in humankind never quite seem to show amidst the sludge of their propensity to greed, selfishness, and cruelty towards one another and the world around them. Nobody comes to thank him of the Melusines, and what little good he sees resulting from their work always seems drowned out in a cacophony of... everything else.

In the grand scheme of things that he contemplates, he tells himself it doesn't matter. He has sworn a duty to the Hydro Archon, in exchange for the chance to witness for himself the existence of this humanity his kin had lost everything for. And he will perform his duty until the very end - be it his own, of that of mankind once the prophecy runs its course and drowns Fontaine and all its sorrows. This, however, Vautrin does not need to know. This, Vautrin cannot know - for both of their sakes. And so, the Iudex's lips remain sealed; no matter how intrigued this conversation has made him, no matter how he has, briefly, started to consider that perhaps, there is more to some humans than selfishness, and greed, and cruelty.

"And we will continue to do our work to ensure justice truly serves the people of this nation, and brings about this good you speak of. Our own doubts and inner turmoil cannot be permitted to supersede its necessity, no matter how tempted we may be to question it." Neuvillette turns to Vautrin again. "This endeavour of ours will only be worth it as long as there are people like you to carry on the torch. My only hope is that more will light up in time."

#apocryphis #muse; vautrin (genpact)#v; is this what justice means to you (past)#;there is no devotion greater than being shore to ocean (apocryphis; neuvillette & vautrin)#( AND SO IT BEGINS INDEED )#( imagine this is the first time vautrin offers to help with work even after he clocks off )#( the start of the friendship that one day goes beyond any describable bond )#( and i present to you: what i hope is a natural conclusion to the thread as suggested FDLHNGLH )#( i'm very soft for them at this stage of their dynamic )#( and i will never not be okay about the way vautrin visibly *preens* when neuvillette gives him any kind of compliment or praise )#( his opinion matters so much even *before* he's down bad for him )#;pretending i'm not here (queue)

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devilish-cherry · 3 months ago

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ᨳ♡₊➳ how they react to your simping

ᨳ♡₊➳ feat. gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji

ᨳ♡₊➳ crack, fluff

ᨳ♡₊➳ a/n: request from this ask!

₊⊹. Satoru Gojo

It starts as a bit.

A joke.

A funny little thing you do to pass the time.

"Satoru," you say one day, dropping into the seat across from him, locking eyes with the intensity of a protagonist about to deliver a monologue that changes the trajectory of the plot. "You're the most stunning man I've ever laid eyes on. A masterpiece sculpted by the gods. A celestial being walking among mortals."

Gojo, already grinning, slurps his sugar-laden monstrosity of a drink. "Keep going."

"And your eyes," you continue solemnly. "If I stare too long, I think I might ascend. Transcend, even. Witness the birth of a new universe."

"Mmhm, mhm," Gojo hums, nodding. "I am quite pretty."

You squint. "That was supposed to be my bit."

"Hey, I can't help it if you're spitting facts," he says, flipping an imaginary strand of long hair behind his shoulder.

You let it go. But only because you have a mission.

The mission? Spoiling Gojo so hard he actually malfunctions.

Gojo is used to being worshiped. Adored. Gawked at. What he's not used to is someone actually putting in effort beyond the usual "oh my god satoru, you're sooo hot!" routine.

So later that day when you casually drop a bouquet of fresh flowers onto his desk, he blinks. Once. Twice.

"What's this?" he asks, twirling a rose between his fingers.

"A bouquet, obviously," you say. "They reminded me of you."

He preens. "Because they're beautiful?"

"Because they're high-maintenance and will die if left unattended for too long."

He chokes on his own spit.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Gojo is not prepared for the sheer level of simping you unleash upon him.

You leave handwritten love notes in his coat pockets.

You text him daily affirmations like "Rise and shine, my shining deity of a man. May your day be filled with adoration befitting a being of your grandeur."

You make a whole PowerPoint presentation titled "Top 10 Reasons Satoru Gojo is the Pinnacle of Human Evolution", complete with graphs, transitions, and a Q&A section at the end.

Gojo is thriving.

Nanami, witnessing this firsthand, is suffering.

"You're just encouraging him," Nanami says one afternoon as Gojo dramatically rereads a love poem you wrote on parchment paper.

"He's thriving under my care," you say, flipping through a list of future compliments to deploy. "It's called nourishment."

"It's called enabling," Nanami corrects, watching Gojo dramatically place a hand over his heart.

"I AM LOVED," Gojo wails, pretending to faint into his chair.

"What you are is insufferable," Nanami mutters, sipping his black coffee like it's the only thing tethering him to sanity.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You decide to go all in.

You book a fancy restaurant.

You show up with flowers, dressed like you're about to propose.

Gojo, seeing the setup, vibrates with excitement. "Oh my god, am I finally being courted properly?!"

"You deserve nothing less," you say smoothly, pulling out his chair like a true gentleperson.

"You shouldn't have," he fake-swoons, placing a delicate hand on his chest.

"No, you shouldn't have been going on for this long without experiencing the true depths of my affection."

The waiter arrives. You order the most expensive dish for Gojo before he even gets a chance to speak. "He'll have the filet mignon, medium-rare, with truffle butter. And your finest wine."

Gojo grips your hand across the table. "I am beside myself with emotion right now."

"You are a treasure, Satoru," you whisper. "A rare jewel. A divine gift."

Gojo wipes away a single imaginary tear.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

At this point, you've given Gojo too much power.

He now EXPECTS this level of treatment.

"Where's my daily compliment?" he pouts one morning when you forget to text him.

You stare at him. "Satoru. It's 6 AM."

"And yet I am here. Unloved. Unworshipped. Unadored."

"You are a grown man."

"A king should not have to remind his subjects of their duties," he grumbles.

Nanami groans in the background.

You rub your temples. "Satoru."

"Yes, my love?"

"You are—" You take a deep breath. "The sun that lights up my world. The radiant deity upon whom my mortal existence depends."

He beams. "Thank you, beloved."

Nanami leaves the room.

₊⊹. Suguru Geto

You had decided enough was enough. Suguru Geto had been prancing around with his stupidly silky hair, his deep, philosophical musings, and his unfairly attractive smirk for too long. It was time to strike.

And by strike, you meant overwhelm him with unhinged romance until he had no choice but to fall for you.

You found him meditating under a tree, all calm and ethereal, probably contemplating the moral complexities of the Jujutsu world or something equally dramatic. You, however, had more important things to discuss.

Like how down bad you were.

"Geto," you declared, standing before him like a medieval knight about to swear fealty, "I offer you this token of my undying admiration."

Then, with a flourish, you revealed—

Chocolates.

Not just any chocolates. You had gone full simp mode and gotten a heart-shaped box.

Geto looked at it. Then at you. "...Should I be concerned?"

"Only about how much I love you," you replied dramatically, shoving the chocolates into his hands.

There was a pause. A long, heavily judgmental pause.

"Are you trying to court me like some kind of high school rom-com protagonist?"

"YES."

Another pause.

"Is it working?" you asked.

Geto opened the box, picked up a chocolate, and took a bite. He chewed slowly, considering. Then—

"...Maybe."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Now, Geto was a cool, composed, and deadly sorcerer.

Which meant it was your job to ruin his life with affection.

So, naturally, you initiated the next phase by hugging him out of nowhere.

This man had fought dangerous curses, but nothing—nothing—could prepare him for the sheer force of your affection.

You launched yourself at him like an affectionate gremlin, wrapping your arms around his waist with the force of a hungry raccoon finding a trash can full of McDonald’s fries.

Geto froze.

"...Are you okay?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"Never," you mumbled into his robe. "But that’s not the point."

"...And the point is?"

"I just think you deserve love and appreciation. And I wanna be the one to give it to you."

Silence.

Then, after a long moment, he sighed, resting a hand on your head.

"...You are ridiculous," he muttered.

"You love it."

"...Perhaps."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

By the end of the week, Geto had officially accepted your nonsense.

You’d catch him hoarding the chocolates like some kind of dragon. You saw him smiling to himself after one of your many, many dramatic compliments.

And when you finally mustered the courage to ask, "So, does this mean we’re dating now?"

Geto, ever the enigma, smirked and patted your head.

"...I suppose I should accept my fate."

₊⊹. Kento Nanami

Nanami is a serious man. A man who, if given the choice, would rather be doing his taxes than engaging in anything even remotely resembling romance. Not because he doesn’t want romance, but because romance requires effort, and effort is, unfortunately, time-consuming.

Which is why you have taken it upon yourself to court this man like a medieval suitor with a crush so strong it could level a small village.

You decide today is the day. The day you finally ask Nanami out. The plan is simple:

1. Find Nanami.

2. Say, "Hey, I like you, wanna go out?"

3. Win.

It’s foolproof. You are a genius.

Nanami, as per usual, is dressed like the world's most exhausted salaryman, sipping a coffee that he is holding like it’s the only thing tethering him to existence.

"Nanami," you say, feeling the confidence of a thousand mediocre fuckboys online.

He looks at you. His gaze is neutral. Calculating. As if he can already sense that whatever is about to come out of your mouth will disrupt the fragile equilibrium of his sanity.

You inhale deeply. Go for it.

"Would you like to engage in a mutually agreed-upon romantic outing with me where I attempt to woo you with my sheer charisma and a potentially expensive dinner?"

Silence.

Nanami blinks. Once. Twice.

Then he takes an excruciatingly slow sip of his coffee, as if using the liquid as a buffer to process the sheer absurdity of your phrasing.

"Are you asking me on a date?"

"That depends," you say, doubling down. "Did it work?"

Nanami stares at you. Then sighs.

"Sure."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Since you have decided to be the biggest simp for Nanami, you have prepared a gift to give him at the beginning of your date. Something that says I am a responsible adult capable of mature affection while also saying I would die for you, sir.

Which is how you find yourself handing Nanami a loaf of bread from his favorite bakery.

Nanami, a man who has spent years perfecting the art of keeping a neutral expression, visibly falters.

Nanami stares at the bread. Then at you. Then at the bread again, as if he is trying to determine whether or not you are a figment of his own overworked imagination.

Finally, he says, "Thank you."

Which, in Nanami Language, translates roughly to: I have never been more emotionally moved in my life.

You, being the proactive, aggressive simp that you are, have decided to push boundaries. Specifically, physical affection boundaries.

So later on the date, you do the unthinkable. You hold his hand.

Nanami, a grown man who has fought literal curses and experienced horrors beyond human comprehension, immediately short-circuits.

His posture stiffens like he’s just been accused of tax fraud. His grip tightens slightly, as if he’s afraid you might just evaporate if he doesn’t hold on properly.

"This is fine," he says, in the tone of someone who is very much not fine.

You squeeze his hand. "I could kiss you, you know."

Nanami exhales so hard it could power a wind turbine.

"Please do not say such things in public."

"You want me to save it for when we're alone?"

Nanami looks at you like he is considering whether it would be socially acceptable to walk into the ocean and never return.

You grin. You have won.

And Nanami, though he will never admit it, likes losing to you.

₊⊹. Choso Kamo

You had a plan.

A stupid, possibly catastrophic plan.

But you were going to ask Choso out.

The issue? Choso was built different.

Not in the "cool, gym-rat, grinds at 4 AM" way. Not even in the "mysterious loner with a dark past" way. No. Choso was built different in the "has absolutely no understanding of normal social cues" way. He had the emotional intelligence of a Roomba. He walked like an NPC. He stared at inanimate objects like they had personally wronged him.

And, worst of all, he had no idea you were trying to make moves.

You had flirted. You had winked at him. You had complimented his little pigtails. You had even touched his arm, which, in romance language, was basically a marriage proposal.

Nothing.

Choso was simply not getting it.

So now, you were taking a more direct approach. You were going to spoil him until he physically had to acknowledge your affection.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You waited until Choso was comfortably seated at your usual hangout spot—a little café that had tolerated your nonsense for far too long.

You slammed a neatly wrapped box onto the table with the intensity of someone presenting a sacred artifact to the gods.

Choso blinked. Slowly. Then looked at you.

“...Am I being arrested?”

“What? No!”

He looked down at the box again. Then back at you. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Choso. Open it.”

Choso stared at the box like it might explode. Then, with all the hesitance of a man defusing a bomb, he started unwrapping it.

Inside was a custom hoodie—black with deep purple accents, soft as hell, and embroidered on the sleeve with “Best Big Bro” in delicate script.

Because if there was one thing Choso loved more than you (debatable), it was being a big brother.

Choso stared at it. Completely frozen.

You waited. And waited. And—

“…Do you not like it?” you asked, anxiety creeping in.

Choso lifted his head, and you almost gasped.

He looked emotionally compromised.

Like, full processing error. His eyes had slightly widened, and his mouth opened just a little, like he was trying to form words but had temporarily forgotten how human speech worked.

He lifted the hoodie like it was the most valuable thing he had ever received.

“You got this… for me?”

Your heart lurched. “Yeah, dude. It’s literally yours.”

Choso gently set the hoodie down, stood up, and left the café.

…

HE LEFT THE CAFÉ.

You sat there, dumbfounded, watching the door swing shut behind him. You did not know how to feel.

What the hell just happened?

Did he hate it? Was he rejecting your affection?

But just as you were about to spiral into a crisis, the door slammed open again.

Choso returned, looking like he had gone outside to scream into the sky.

He stopped in front of you, took a deep breath, and said, “I did not know how to process that.”

“…The hoodie?”

Choso nodded, completely serious.

“It was too much.” He exhaled deeply, as if he had just lived through a traumatic event. “I had to step outside. It was the nicest thing anyone has ever given me.”

Before you could even respond, Choso dropped into the chair across from you, locked eyes, and grabbed your hands.

“You are important to me,” he said, voice dead serious. “I don’t know how to handle being… doted on. But I will try.”

“…So you like it?” you managed to choke out.

Choso nodded. Solemn. Deeply sincere.

“I will cherish it forever.”

He paused.

“Do I have to pay you back?”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Despite the initial trauma, Choso wore that hoodie everywhere.

And you mean everywhere.

Grocery shopping? Hoodie. Training? Hoodie. A formal event? He debated wearing the hoodie.

Every time you saw him in it, your heart grew three sizes.

And the best part? Choso finally got the hint.

Or rather, he returned the favor in his own extremely weird way.

One day, he solemnly presents you with a tiny, perfectly round rock.

“This is for you.”

You stare at it. “…Choso. Is this just... A rock?”

Choso nods, his expression grave and intense. “It reminded me of you.”

You don’t know what that means, but you’re keeping the rock forever.

₊⊹. Toji Fushiguro

So, you’ve decided to ask Toji Fushiguro out. Bold of you. Statistically speaking, your chances of success are equivalent to trying to microwave a Hot Pocket evenly—low but not impossible.

You approach him, full of misplaced confidence, and hit him with:

"Hey, I think you’re hot. Want to go out?"

Toji stares at you. For the first time in his life, he is the one being objectified, and he does not know how to cope.

“...You serious?” he asks, popping a toothpick into his mouth like he’s the protagonist of a Western movie.

You nod, mostly because you’ve already committed and retreating would be embarrassing.

Toji, a man who survives off hitman money and food bribery, strokes his chin as if he’s considering a very important life decision. "Eh. You payin’?"

Ah, yes. Romance.

You, a modern working-class citizen barely scraping by, sigh deeply. “Sure.”

He grins. "Alright, babe. As long as I get fed, I’m yours."

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Most people might play it cool. You, however, are about to hit Toji with full-throttle, maximum-effort simping.

You start hyping him up like a Twitch chat during a speedrun:

"Oh, wow, you lifted that entire sofa by yourself? That’s crazy, I didn’t know Greek gods were still around."

"Bro, your arms? Jail. Straight to jail."

"You look like you commit tax fraud in a really attractive way."

Toji, completely unused to someone simping this hard for him, just stares at you. "The hell is wrong with you?"

But he doesn’t tell you to stop.

No, instead, he starts getting visibly cocky. His smirks get more frequent. He starts cracking his neck more, flexing just because. At one point, he lifts an entire vending machine with one hand just to “see if you’d react.”

(You do. You react violently. Your soul momentarily leaves your body. He finds this hilarious.)

"Man, this is fun," he mutters, completely oblivious to the fact that he’s now just performing feats of strength for your entertainment like a circus strongman.

Eventually you decide it’s time to go full simp mode. You present him with The Ultimate Romantic Gift™—a custom, high-quality, weighted blanket.

Yes. A weighted blanket.

Toji blinks at it. "The hell is this?"

"It’s a weighted blanket. It helps with sleeping. It’s supposed to feel like a hug."

Toji, a man who absolutely does not get enough proper sleep, picks it up and frowns at the heft of it. "Why would I want my blanket to hug me?"

"Because you have unresolved trauma, and I love you."

Toji pauses. Stares at you. Stares at the blanket. Stares back at you. His grip tightens like you just handed him a weapon of mass destruction.

"Holy shit," he mutters under his breath. He looks almost…emotional? No, wait. You think he’s malfunctioning. His brain is short-circuiting from the sheer thought of someone giving him something that doesn’t explode.

Toji does not say thank you (because he’s emotionally repressed), but that night, he's completely KO’d under the blanket, snoring like a bear hibernating for the winter.

He has never slept so well in his life.

The next morning, he casually throws an arm around your shoulder and mutters, "Aight, I’ll keep ya."

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rotapathetic · 3 months ago

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HIMBO .ᐟ RAFE ┆introduction ✶

❝ human version of a golden retriever, beautiful, incredibly well intentioned, && dumb ❞

HE’S ⁝ not all quite there, but give him a second. constantly joking. humor of a teen boy. OBSESSED with you. will say out loud he’d rather be with you when with other people. checks on you. reassuring. people go to him for advice or to rant. takes risks just for a laugh. boasts whenever you talk to him. preens at your compliments. reminds people he has a girlfriend when no one asked. begs you to do couple internet trends

messy EVERYTHING. messy eater. messy talker. stares at you unabashedly. bruises himself doing stunts he has no business doing. metaphorically and psychically kicks his feet and giggles when you talk to him. learns everything you like and buys it for you. obeys anything you say. knows the fragrance you’re wearing instead of basic math. doesn’t know the word dangerous

𐔌taglist꒱ 𐔌first time meeting꒱ 𐔌haircut꒱ 𐔌himbo.ᐟrafe core꒱𐔌having you as his wallpaper꒱ 𐔌loves randomly treating you꒱𐔌emergency contact trend꒱ 𐔌himbo.ᐟrafe core pt2꒱ 𐔌showing you off to his friends꒱ 𐔌waiting for sunscreen trend꒱ 𐔌ignoring trend꒱ 𐔌other guys꒱ 𐔌admiring you at the beach꒱ 𐔌feed꒱ 𐔌first date꒱ 𐔌tagging along with you and your friends꒱ 𐔌when a guy flirts with you꒱ 𐔌dying his buzzcut꒱ 𐔌off of anesthesia after accident꒱ 𐔌teaching reader to skate꒱ 𐔌running to you after getting hurt꒱ 𐔌freaking when you get hurt꒱ 𐔌blind unboxing꒱ 𐔌headcanons꒱ 𐔌he’s not entirely an airhead!꒱ 𐔌buys you sonny angels꒱ 𐔌painting his nails꒱ 𐔌comforting anxious reader꒱

#い himbo ✶ ⛓️ rafe ㅤ⁝ㅤ is online ⌕ .. ༝#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron blurb

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goldsainz · 6 months ago

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# DREW STARKEY — ACTORS ON ACTORS !

MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ drew and you participate in variety’s “actors on actors” series.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ cursing, talking about nude scenes, probably inaccurate acting experiences.

003. NOTE !

✯ sorry to all the actors i stole roles from😭 also zendaya is used as a face claim for the social media but the writing is inclusive and has no descriptors of physical appearance… or at least i hope so.

word count : 5,4k (chat i got carried away)

The cozy studio was bathed in warm light, designed almost as if to feel like a welcoming living room. Two plush chairs faced each other, separated by a low coffee table adorned with a few carefully placed books and a small vase of fresh flowers. Everything about the space was crafted to exude intimacy and warmth, inviting open conversation.

Drew Starkey entered the room first, his usual calm confidence mingled with a tinge of nervous energy. He smoothed his shirt absentmindedly and scanned the setup, trying to ground himself in the moment. He was used to being in front of cameras, but this felt different. This wasn’t just about promoting a project or answering rapid-fire questions on a press junket. This was you.

“Hello,” Drew started, a smile gracing his features as he took in the fact that he was sitting right in front of his number one celebrity crush. His hand hovered awkwardly in a small wave, as if he couldn’t believe this was real.

“Hi,” you said back, a giggle falling past your lips when you noticed his sheepish look. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he said, his voice just a little higher than usual. Drew cleared his throat, laughing at himself, which made you laugh too. “Sorry, I’m… a little nervous.”

“Oh, don’t be,” you reassured him with a warm smile. “I promise, I don’t bite.”

“Good to know.” He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “How are you doing?”

“I’m great, thank you. What about you?”

“Pretty good, can’t complain.” A laugh bubbled out of him, and subsequently, you. The way he rubbed the back of his neck made you think he was still pinching himself that this was happening.

The cameras rolled, capturing the easy charm and immediate chemistry between the two of you.

Drew’s grin widened as he began. “First of all, let me just say—I’m completely starstruck right now. I mean, the way you completely own every role you take on... it’s incredible.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, a bashful laugh escaping as you waved off the compliment. “Oh, stop it. You’re making me blush!”

“I’m serious,” he pressed, leaning forward slightly. “You’re like… the blueprint. If I ever get even halfway to where you are, I’ll consider myself lucky.”

“Well, now you’re just flattering me,” you said, your voice teasing but your cheeks undeniably warm. “But thank you, that’s so sweet. And honestly, you’re being way too hard on yourself. You’re incredible in Queer. You’ve got this natural charm that just lights up the screen.”

“Natural charm, huh?” He smirked, pretending to preen, which made you laugh again. “I’ll take that.”

“Good,” you replied, smiling. “You should, because it’s true.”

Drew’s gaze softened, the teasing giving way to something more earnest. “That means a lot, really. Especially coming from you. You’re like… Hollywood royalty to many.”

You tilted your head, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “To many, huh? And are you part of this many?”

Drew’s eyes widened, and he laughed, a little caught off guard. “Oh, absolutely. I’ve got a lifetime membership to the fan club.”

“Good to know,” you teased, crossing your legs and leaning back in your chair with an air of mock superiority. “I’ll have to start charging you membership fees.”

“Totally worth it,” he shot back, his grin widening.

“Well, thank you,” you said with a soft laugh, “So, we’ve both got some things in common, which I think is pretty cool.”

“Like working with Daniel Craig?” he asked.

“Yes! Honestly, I still reminisce about our time on set… he’s genuinely incredible, isn’t he?”

“He is, yeah. I found myself just admiring him and sort of forgetting I had to act too. He’s just… he’s on another level, for sure.”

“Daniel’s a master of his craft… Most of my scenes as Paloma in No Time To Die were with him, and at first I was so nervous because, like, what if I messed up in front of the Daniel Craig?” Drew let out a laugh at your words, and you couldn’t help but laugh too. “But when he noticed I was nervous he reassured me that it was all good. He’s just the best.”

“You’ve worked with so many high-profile actors.” You nod slightly at his words, as if it were the most common thing in the world. “Are you always nervous when meeting them, or was it just a Daniel thing?”

“It wasn’t just Daniel, no, but I think it depends. For example, when I did Oppenheimer with Cillian Murphy, for some reason I felt more relaxed… even though I had some nude scenes with him.”

“Nude scenes just make you connect, don’t they?” he joked, leaning back with a sly grin.

“They do, actually,” you replied, leaning into the banter. “You’d think they’d be worse, but honestly, with the amount of seriousness and concentration they take, it’s like you don’t have time to be nervous.”

“You clearly pulled it off flawlessly,” Drew said with mock solemnity.

“You did too in Queer.” You compliment him, “I watched it a few days ago, and the chemistry you had with Daniel was just off the charts.”

Drew’s face lit up, a mix of pride and bashfulness crossing his features. “Daniel’s an amazing scene partner. He really made it easy for me to tap into everything.”

“Well, it shows,” you said. “It was such a raw and beautiful performance. I might’ve shed a tear or two.”

“Okay, now you’re just trying to make me blush,” Drew teased, pointing at you with a playful squint. “But seriously, that means a lot coming from you.”

“Hey, give credit where it’s due,” you shot back with a grin. “You’ve got this way of making everything feel so real. Like when you’re in pain, we’re in pain. When you’re in love, we’re falling right alongside you.”

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I don’t know what to do with all these compliments. This is the best therapy session I’ve ever had.”

You laughed, crossing your legs and leaning forward slightly. “Well, I’m glad I could help. But now I’m curious—how did you prepare for a role like that? I mean, it’s so emotionally intense, no?.”

“It was a lot of journaling, a lot of talking with Luca about backstory and motivations,” Drew explained, his tone more thoughtful. “And honestly, I kind of drew from real-life experiences. Not the exact ones, obviously, but just feelings of vulnerability and… wanting to be understood.”

“That’s beautiful,” you said softly, your smile turning tender. “It’s amazing how much of ourselves we pour into these characters.”

“Exactly,” Drew agreed. “And sometimes it’s terrifying, but when it resonates with people, it feels worth it.”

“It definitely resonated with me,” you assured him. “And I’m sure with countless others too.”

“That’s really nice to hear,” he said with a soft smile.

“How was it for you to work with Luca? Because I remember it being one of the highlights of my career.”

Drew’s eyes lit up at the mention of Luca Guadagnino, and he leaned forward slightly, as if the memory itself was a magnet pulling him closer. “Oh, working with Luca was… incredible,” he said, his voice laced with awe. “He’s got this way of creating such a safe, open space on set. It’s almost like he’s not just directing—he’s inviting you into this world he’s building in his head.”

You nodded eagerly, your own memories of working with Luca bringing a nostalgic smile to your face. “I know exactly what you mean. He makes it feel like you’re collaborating on this deeply personal piece of art, rather than just executing someone else’s vision.”

“Exactly!” Drew said, gesturing animatedly. “And he has this way of pulling things out of you that you didn’t even know you had. Like, he’ll ask you one simple question, and suddenly you’re diving into this emotional rabbit hole.”

You laughed, tilting your head in agreement. “He asked me once, ‘What would this character, Maren in my case, dream about?’ and it completely changed how I approached the next scene.”

Drew’s mouth dropped open in mock surprise. “He asked me the exact same question!”

“No way!” you exclaimed, your laughter spilling out in disbelief. “I love that! It’s honestly such a deceptively simple question, but it opens up so many layers.”

“It really does,” Drew said, chuckling. “And then you’re sitting there like, ‘Okay, now I have to rethink everything I thought I knew about this character.’”

“It’s kind of genius, though,” you added. “He makes you work harder, but not in a way that feels forced. It’s like… he trusts you to figure it out, but he gives you these breadcrumbs to follow.”

“Exactly,” Drew said again, his tone growing softer. “I think that’s why his films feel so intimate, he gets the human part so right.”

You smiled, letting his words settle in the air for a moment. “I think that’s what makes working with him feel like such a privilege. It’s not just about telling a story—it’s about feeling it.”

Drew nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “And those are the moments that stick with you, you know? The ones where you felt something real, even if it was just for a moment.”

“Completely,” you agreed, your voice soft with sincerity. “Those moments are why we do this.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in companionable silence, the weight of the conversation settling in the cozy studio. Then, Drew broke the quiet with a grin. “Okay, but did Luca make you do those impromptu rehearsals at, like, the crack of dawn?”

“Oh my God, yes!” you burst out, your eyes widening. “I’d just roll out of bed with zero coffee and somehow be expected to pour my soul into a scene.”

Drew laughed, his face lighting up. “Right? It’s like, ‘Good morning, here’s your emotional breakdown for the day.’”

You laughed along with him, the shared experience adding another thread to the easy camaraderie forming between you. “But honestly, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”

“Same,” Drew said, his expression softening again. “For Luca? Anytime.”

“Absolutely,” you agreed, your eyes locking with his for a moment before the warmth of the studio light reminded you both that the cameras were still rolling.

Drew shifted in his seat slightly, his expression thoughtful. “You know, it’s kind of wild—hearing you talk about all these incredible experiences. You’ve been doing this for so long, and yet it’s like you’re just getting started.”

You tilted your head with a small smile. “That’s sweet of you to say. But yeah, I guess I have been in this industry for most of my life. It’s all I’ve ever really known.”

Drew’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s crazy to think about. I didn’t even consider acting until after college. You must’ve been, what, ten? Eleven?”

“Eight, actually,” you corrected with a chuckle. “My first role was in this little indie film. I was basically just the kid who ran around in the background eating ice cream, but I thought it was the coolest thing ever.”

He laughed, clearly amused. “That’s adorable. And now you’re the Hollywood It Girl. No big deal.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, your laughter light. “Oh, stop it. But yeah, it’s been a journey. Growing up on sets definitely shaped me, for better or worse. Sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like to have a more ‘normal’ childhood.”

Drew’s smile softened. “That must’ve been such a whirlwind. I can’t even imagine starting that young. I didn’t even think about acting seriously until high school.”

“Oh, I’ve read about that!” You said, your voice lighting up. “You were all about sports growing up, right?”

“Yeah,” Drew admitted with a chuckle. “I was your typical small-town kid—baseball, basketball, you name it. I was convinced I was going to go pro in something, but clearly, that didn’t pan out.”

“Well, I think acting suits you pretty well.”

“Thank you,” he says with a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “But yeah, the real shift happened in high school when I joined a drama class. It was all Samuel Beckett and absurdist plays, which at the time I thought was the coolest thing ever.”

You leaned forward, intrigued. “So that’s what pulled you in? Drama class?”

“Pretty much,” he said with a nod. “And then I went to Western Carolina for college. I double-majored in English and theater, thinking, ‘If this acting thing doesn’t work out, I’ll at least have a backup plan.’”

“That’s so realistic of you,” you said with a laugh. “Meanwhile, I was ten, telling anyone who’d listen that I was going to win an Oscar one day.”

“And look at you now,” Drew said, gesturing to you with an almost reverent smile. “You made it happen.”

You chuckled, a bit flustered by his admiration. “Well, not quite, just an Oscar nominee for now. But thank you. You know, I think your journey’s pretty incredible too. A double major? That’s no joke. And starting later in the game like you did… it must have felt like a slow burn, but it’s clearly paid off.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Drew said thoughtfully. “It was definitely a slower burn for me. I didn’t land my first real gig until I’d been auditioning for what felt like forever.”

“I think that makes your journey even more special,” you said, your tone sincere. “You came into it with all this life experience and maturity. It shows in your work, you know? There’s this depth to your performances that’s just… rare.”

Drew’s ears turned a little pink, and he laughed softly, glancing down at his hands. “Wow, you’re gonna make me blush over here.”

“Good,” you said with a teasing smile. “It’s only fair after all the compliments you’ve been throwing my way.”

He looked up, his grin sheepish but warm. “Touché. But seriously, hearing that from someone like you—someone who’s been at this for so long and is so insanely talented—it means a lot.”

“Well,” you replied with a playful tilt of your head, “I think it’s safe to say we’re officially mutual fans.”

Drew laughed at that, the sound easy and genuine. “I can live with that.”

The conversation shifted into more comfortable territory as the two of you shared experiences, trading stories about acting and the film industry. Drew, now feeling at ease, leaned forward with renewed interest.

“You know,” he began, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, “I've been thinking about how different TV shows and movies are, especially when it comes to the pacing and character development. Like, in a show, we have to maintain this ongoing energy for the characters over multiple seasons. But with movies, it’s a totally different vibe, right?”

You nodded, understanding immediately where he was going. “It’s definitely a huge shift. With TV, you’re given time to build on a character slowly. Every episode is another chapter, so you can explore new facets of them and keep the audience hooked for longer periods of time. But movies, they’re this intense sprint. You have to get everything across in just two hours or so, but in a way that feels just as layered and satisfying.”

Drew's eyes lit up with excitement, clearly passionate about the topic. "Exactly! You have to balance the action and suspense while still giving the characters these moments of vulnerability. Over multiple seasons, you can really let them grow and change. It's like a slow burn. But when you're doing a movie, you don’t have the luxury of that buildup. It has to be this concentrated emotional punch right from the start.”

“That’s one of the biggest challenges of film, for sure," you agreed. "In a film, every second counts. You can’t afford to waste a moment. But I think what’s also interesting is how both mediums can explore a character’s journey from different angles. TV shows can dive into their backstory in more detail, but movies... they really need to hit those emotional beats and leave an impact without dragging it out."

Drew smiled, clearly engaged in the discussion. “In TV shows you need that perfect balance of suspense, character development, and personal growth. And then, at the end of the season, you drop a huge bombshell that leaves people wanting more.”

You laughed, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Sounds like you’ve been doing some serious thinking about it. What’s the secret to keeping the audience hooked without losing the depth of your character?”

He leaned back, his expression thoughtful. “Well, I think it’s about letting the characters evolve with the story. You need to make sure the audience sees the human side of your character, even when they're in these crazy situations. It’s what keeps people invested in the long run.”

“You’ve really got the process figured out,” you said with a smile. “But you’re right—it’s a different rhythm for TV. With a movie, you get to go deep quickly, but with a show, you have to keep it dynamic and varied. And let’s not forget, you need that cliffhanger at the end to make people binge-watch the next season.”

Drew’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “You’re giving away all the secrets! Next thing you know, people will be expecting a cliffhanger every time they watch a movie."

“Well, movies and TV are both art, but they demand different approaches,” you said, “and you’re doing an amazing job balancing both. I’m honestly so excited to see where your career goes next. Both worlds are lucky to have you.”

He chuckled softly, clearly humbled. “Thanks. I think I’m just lucky to be a part of both. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be in a show that gets people talking for days?”

“Right? You’ve got Outer Banks, which has such a dedicated fanbase, and then movies like Queer that touch people in such a different way. It’s amazing to watch your versatility.”

He leaned in slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m just trying to keep up with you. Honestly, your transition from action to more emotional roles is inspiring. I hope I can pull off something even close to what you’ve done with your career.”

Your smile softened, your voice sincere. “Well, you’re already doing it, Drew. You’re already there. It’s not just about the roles—it’s about the heart you put into them. And you’ve definitely got that.”

Drew’s smile faltered for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. His gaze softened, as if he were truly reflecting on what you’d said. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms but keeping his eyes on you, his expression thoughtful.

“It's crazy, isn't it?” He began, his voice a little quieter now, “The idea of giving so much of yourself to something that feels so... intimate. But when it works, when the audience feels it too, there's nothing like it.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, your voice a little quieter now. “That's the real magic, when the audience feels like they know the characters, like they're right there with them. It’s not about the plot twists or the fancy sets—it’s about the emotions that we build and share with them.”

Drew nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting away for a moment before returning to you. “Speaking of emotions, I just saw your new movie, We Live In Time,” he said, his voice taking on a softer tone. “It’s one of those films that stays with you, you know? It’s raw in a way that makes you uncomfortable, but it’s also beautiful. How did you tap into that for Almut?”

Your expression softened as you thought back on the experience. We Live In Time had been a journey—a raw, almost therapeutic one. “It was an emotional rollercoaster, honestly,” you said, leaning back slightly, letting the memory settle in. “I think the hardest part was showing that moment where her whole world shifts. It was such a raw, profound type of emotion I had to channel in order to do justice to the character and her experiences.”

Drew sat back, letting the weight of the conversation settle. “I think that's what makes your career so incredible. You never just play a character. You become them. And you take us with you. Every heartbreak, every triumph, every moment of doubt... we feel it all with you. That's what makes your work so powerful.”

You met his gaze, feeling the depth of the conversation linger between you both. “It’s all about connection, right? Connecting with the character, with the audience, and with the emotions that we all share as humans. Because at the end of the day, we’re all just trying to make sense of time, love, and the moments we get.”

Drew smiled, his expression genuine and soft. “Well, you’ve definitely made sense of it for me. We Live In Time—it’s not just a movie. It’s a reminder to cherish what we have. And that, in itself, is something special.”

You smiled back, your heart full as you let the words sink in. “Thank you, Drew. That’s really sweet of you.”

You both shared a comfortable silence for a moment, before Drew broke it with a playful grin. “You know, it’s clear you’ve mastered the art of vulnerability on screen, but I can’t help but wonder—did you ever have moments on set where it was just... impossible to take things seriously?”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Oh, absolutely. In fact, as a kid, it was all impossible to be serious,” you admitted, shaking your head at the memory. “I remember this one time during a scene on set when I was probably around 9 or 10. We were supposed to be doing this emotional scene, and I had to cry on cue. But instead of crying, I couldn’t stop giggling. It was a dramatic moment, and my co-star was all serious and trying to get through the scene, but I just... lost it.”

Drew raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Giggling during a dramatic scene? What happened?”

“Well, my director, bless her heart, kept trying to give me these 'serious actor' looks. She was this no-nonsense kind of woman, and she had this way of narrowing her eyes when things weren’t going well. I tried my best to hold it together, but then my co-star—who was way too good at being serious—looked at me and just gave this super intense stare, and that was it. I burst out laughing right in the middle of the take.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head. “I can just picture that. You were probably trying to hold it together, but it must have been so hard with all that tension in the air.”

“I swear, the more I tried not to laugh, the harder it became,” you continued, grinning at the memory. “It was one of those moments where you’re like, 'Why am I even here? I can’t do this.' But somehow, I got through it. The director had to take a deep breath, and we did a few more takes. Eventually, we got it done, but I think we all were on the verge of cracking up the whole time.”

Drew let out a laugh, clearly imagining the scene. “I can’t blame you. I feel like as a kid, you have no filter. Everything feels like a joke, and it’s so hard to be serious when everyone else is trying so hard.”

“You have no idea,” you said, your voice still light. “There were so many times I’d be doing a serious scene, and I’d start thinking about something random, like a certain meme or a funny sound someone made on set—and then, bam, it was game over. I’d be holding in a laugh like my life depended on it.”

Drew smirked, leaning in a little. “I totally feel that. I mean, as an adult, I still have moments where I struggle to keep a straight face. I once had a scene where I was supposed to be super intense, but the prop guy was standing just out of frame, and he made this ridiculous face at me—completely threw me off. I couldn’t stop laughing, and it ended up taking hours to finish the scene because we kept cracking up. Honestly, I think the crew started to get annoyed with us after a while.”

“See?” you said with a grin. “It never really changes. Truthfully, the older you get, the harder it becomes to hold it in. But then you look at the footage and realize how much fun you actually had, and that makes it all worth it.”

Drew nodded thoughtfully, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Yeah, that’s the thing. Sometimes it’s the moments you didn’t plan for that end up being the most memorable. Like when you have a laugh on set, and suddenly you feel closer to everyone, even though you’re supposed to be in character.”

“Exactly,” you said, your smile widening. “There’s something so beautiful about those unscripted moments. It reminds you that acting is, at its core, about connecting—whether that’s through laughter or the heavy stuff. And even though I had my fair share of giggling fits as a kid, I think those moments taught me just as much as the serious ones. Maybe more.”

Drew leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “It's funny how those little moments—like a laugh in the middle of a serious scene—can end up being the ones you remember the most. I think those are the ones that make the work feel real, you know?”

You smiled, your gaze distant as you reflected on the years of working on sets. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“Yeah, like those unscripted moments,” Drew added, his voice quieter now, as if the weight of the sentiment lingered in the air. “They give the performance an authenticity that you can’t get from just following the script to a tee.”

You nodded, the words hanging between you like a shared understanding. “Exactly. And as a kid, I was so focused on getting it ‘right’—on being perfect—that I missed the beauty of just being in the moment. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized how important it is to let go of the idea of perfection. It's in those mistakes, the wrong takes, the bloopers—that's where you find the truth.”

Drew's expression softened, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your chest tighten. “I think it’s key not to be afraid to show the mess, the imperfect parts of a character, because that’s what makes them human.”

A small chuckle escaped you, the warmth of the moment filling the studio. “Right? We’re all just a little bit of a mess, trying to figure it out, but that’s what makes the journey worth it. We’re constantly learning, constantly evolving, and we bring that to our work. The growth, the mistakes—it all shapes us.”

Drew nodded, his gaze shifting as if reflecting on those same ideas. “Yeah, and the growth never stops, does it? Just when you think you’ve figured it out, something new happens, and it challenges you again.”

“That's the beauty of it,” you said, your voice quieter now, the bond between you both deepening. “The challenge is what keeps it exciting, keeps you moving forward.”

Drew grinned, a playful spark lighting his eyes once more. “Well, I guess we’re both lifelong students of this thing called acting, huh?”

“Absolutely,” you said with a laugh, the lightness returning. “And just like any good student, we’ll always be learning. Who knows, maybe we'll even get better at not laughing in the middle of dramatic scenes.”

Drew let out a hearty laugh, nodding enthusiastically. “I think that’s going to take years of practice, honestly.”

You both shared a moment of genuine laughter, the warmth of your conversation filling the space around you. You leaned back into the chairs, the laughter still lingering in the air, a sense of camaraderie that made the space between you feel comfortable and open. You continued sharing stories, moving seamlessly from one experience to the next.

The conversation began to slow, the easy flow of stories fading into a comfortable silence, as you both shared an unspoken understanding. The light laughter that had filled the room now felt like a warm, lingering hum between you.

Drew shifted slightly in his chair, his gaze turning toward you with a subtle, thoughtful expression. “You know,” he began, his voice softer now, “I really hope we get to work together sometime. I think it’d be incredible. It’s the kind of thing where I can already imagine what it’d be like. Just... easy, real. Like this.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you kept your composure, offering a smile that spoke volumes. “I’d love that. If you receive a call from your manager these days… maybe I had something to do with it, so be prepared.”

The air between you both was charged, the quiet intensity of the moment not lost on either of you. There was something unspoken, something deeper that neither of you addressed outright but that seemed to hang there all the same. The connection was undeniable, yet it lingered in the silence, unspoken, but clear.

Drew finally broke the spell with a playful grin, his eyes flicking back to yours. “Oh, I’ll be ready. Can’t wait to see what magic we create together.”

You returned his smile, your heart racing ever so slightly, though you kept it hidden behind the ease of your words. “I’m sure it’ll be something incredible.”

As the interview wrapped up, there was a lingering sense of something unspoken between you both, an attraction that neither of you had to mention but was so clearly felt. The kind of connection that could only be hinted at, but would never truly fade. It was the kind of moment that would stay with both of you long after the cameras stopped rolling.

“Thank you,” you said softly as the final moments of the interview started to loom, your voice carrying a depth that reflected everything unsaid between you. “This has been amazing. Honestly, it feels like we’ve been talking for hours, and yet it still doesn’t feel like enough.”

He nodded, his expression soft but genuine. “I feel the same way. This has been one of the most honest and open conversations I’ve had in a long time.”

The crew began to pack up, signaling that the interview was at its end, but neither of you seemed in any hurry to break the moment. The usual chatter and movement around you felt distant, as if the two of you were in your own world for just a little longer.

“You know,” Drew said, his voice quieter now, a hint of sincerity threading through, “I think we make a pretty good team even just sitting here talking. Imagine what we could do with a whole script.”

Your smile softened, and you nodded, the words feeling right, but the undertone of something more—something unsaid—hung in the air. “Yeah, I think we’d be unstoppable.”

The moment stretched between you both, filled with the kind of comfortable tension that comes when you realize you’ve shared something real. Something that felt like it could turn into something more.

You both stood up, a final, lingering moment before the usual goodbye. Drew extended a hand, his gaze holding yours a beat longer than necessary.

“Take care, okay?” he said, his voice warm, like the words carried more than just a polite farewell.

You shook his hand, the warmth of his touch lingering just a moment longer than expected. “You too, Drew,” you replied, your voice soft yet carrying an undercurrent of meaning that mirrored his own.

As you turned to gather your things, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. He was still standing there, watching you with that same thoughtful expression, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. The faintest smile curved his lips, as if he were replaying the conversation in his mind.

“See you around,” he called out, the words simple but loaded with promise.

“Yeah,” you said, meeting his gaze one last time. “See you around.”

Walking away, you felt a peculiar lightness, as though something intangible had shifted, leaving you both exhilarated and curious. It wasn’t every day you met someone who made you feel seen in such a profound way, and as you left the studio, you found yourself smiling, a quiet hope blooming in your chest.

And for a fleeting second, you allowed yourself to wonder what could come next.

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meowzfordayz · 1 year ago

Text

hashira accidentally touch your chest

Author’s Note: pls and ty enjoy this tidbit of crack-fluff. 😆💖

hashira accidentally touch your chest

Hashira x Reader

Word Count: ~1,600

CW: explicit language, Fem!Reader, mild sexual content

Suggestion Fulfilled: Can we get all hashira accidently touch y/n's breast

~faqs~

Fyi, “chest” means boob. I was just worried Tumblr would block this post from tags if I included “boob” in the title lmao. 😉

Shocked 😳😖

“I apologize, [y/n]-san, it won’t happen again!”

Gyomei’s nearly in tears, he feels so terribly 😞

“These things happen!” you promptly assure him, “Besides, you technically won the bout.”

No need to mention that he always wins when training together 🥲

“I cannot accept such a tainted victory.”

“Himejima-san, though I appreciate your concern and respect, there’s truly no issue.”

Meanwhile, Gyomei’s rethinking his entire Breathing Style to ensure he never accidentally touches anyone’s boob(s) again 💀

In cold disbelief 😐😐😐

If you don’t say anything, then he won’t say anything

Alternatively, if you do say something, then Obanai will immediately curl up into a ball and die

Spends the rest of his day recalling the fleeting warmth of your breast

He swears his hand doesn’t even get cold, so affected by the heat of your bosom

Your boob must be ✨magical✨

“Iguro-san,” you call out gently, noting his dazed stare, his dinner untouched while he sits crossed legged, “Is something on your mind?”

“No.” 😐😐😐

Well okay then 🙃

“About what happened earlier…”

🫨🫨🫨 <— Obanai is FREAKING OUT

“… Iguro-san, I didn’t mind.”

And then you stand up, take your dishes, and leave

WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEEEAAAN?!?!?!

Good luck finding Obanai tomorrow 🫡 (the poor man’s been pleasantly overwhelmed)

He’ll avoid you for eternity now 😌 (not really, but at least until he can breathe around you again)

She giggles 🤭

Lol

“Oh my! [y/n]-san, I didn’t mean to touch you so intimately!” 😅

“No worries, it happens.”

Your face may or may not be burning up a storm, but that’s okay!

Mitsuri’s blushing too

A lot 😳

“I hope I didn’t hurt you?!”

Because like, What if I gripped too hard?! 😭

She’s well aware of her own strength

“You barely brushed me, Kanroji-san. I promise!”

Phew!

She grins, relief evident as she bumps her elbow against yours

“Don’t tell anyone, okay? I would be so embarrassed!!!”

“Kanroji-san, our secret is safe with me.”

I wish it would happen again… <— lowkey both of you thinking the same thing 🤪

As a medical personnel (among other roles), Shinobu accidentally (or even on purpose, depending on where you’re wounded) touching your boob isn’t entirely unreasonable nor unrealistic

Obviously it would be nicer if she was caressing you out of love and affection 😔

And not methodically cleansing then bandaging claw marks that just so happened to cross over your chest 😒

“You should make a full recovery,” she’s all business, “The demon avoided your nipple and didn’t puncture deep enough to affect the functionality of your breast,” fortunately, you’re too exhausted to be embarrassed by her bluntness, “It has a nice shape. I’m glad you survived.”

EXCUSE ME WHAT?!?!?! 😃🫠

Now you’re kinda embarrassed

More so preening, really 🤭

It’s like when a doctor randomly compliments the rhythm of your heart or some other characteristic from a mainly professional POV, but you’re still caught off guard because who tf compliments someone’s kidneys or bowels movements or?????

In your pain hazed delusion, you briefly contemplate somehow getting your other boob injured too… gotta make sure you’re matching in (nice) shape, y’know? 😌

Kyojuro can be discreet, albeit more so for your sake than his

“I APOLOGIZE! I DID NOT MEAN TO TOUCH YOUR BREAST!” <— how he could react 💀

“Pardon my slip, are you okay?” <— how he actually reacts, because he isn’t entirely lacking in social awareness and decorum 😆

“Oh,” you don’t mean to squeak, but it can’t be helped when the most handsome man you’ve ever known just casually grazed your boob, “I’m fine! Totally fine! Haha!” 🫨😵‍💫🫠

You’ve gotta be more convincing than that, or Kyojuro will never forgive himself 😕

He’s a lil oblivious when it comes to physical attraction

Not like, infantly so, but given this particular circumstance?

He doesn’t realize you’re flustered; he assumes you’re mortified 😖

“You sound decidedly less than fine.”

He’s softer now, worried about startling you 🥺

“I was surprised! But don’t worry! I’m not worried!”

Okaaay, but he’s worried 🥲

“Is there any way I could make amends for my indiscretion?”

Not only is he handsome, but he is such a gentleman 😭😍

“Rengoku-san, there are no amends to be made, I promise. I’m not mad, nor do I feel unhappy or unsafe. I forgive you.”

Your regaining of the ability to speak in complete sentences greatly reassures him 😮‍💨😁

“Ah. Well. I am grateful for your kindness and understanding. It will not happen again.”

…

Hold up 🧐

Why does she seem… she seems… disappointed? Should I have said it will happen again??

You’ve suddenly given Kyojuro something quite pleasant to ponder 🤔

After all, he isn’t entirely oblivious 😉

“Are you going to apologize?” Sanemi demands

“For what?” you screech

“For touching my hand with your boob!”

Your eyes roll, “Oh fuck off!”

“I didn’t ask to touch you,” he grunts

“I wouldn’t have given you permission anyway,” you retort 😒

Arms crossing over his bare chest, Sanemi scoffs, “Well I didn’t give mine either!”

“You’re ridiculous. It was an accident.”

You seem genuinely pissed 😬

Sanemi rethinks his approach

“You know I’m joking, right?” 😅

“Nooo,” your sarcasm cuts deep, “I thought you were flirting.” 😐

Uh 😀

Well 😃

Shit 😄

“Fuck you!”

When in doubt, curse ‘em out 💀

You scowl, confusion lingering as your blood boils, “Fuck you!”

“I said it first.” 🙄

You stalk away, fed up with his antics

#man child #sort of #romantically inept is more like it

As tends to happen with epiphanies, yours doesn’t hit until you’re almost asleep

“WAS THAT MOTHERFUCKER FLIRTING WITH ME???!” 😳🥴😭

Best believe Shinazugawa Sanemi is about to have a Lesson 101 in flirting asap 😤😎

(assuming you’re older, like, mentor age to Muichiro)

Neither of you make a fuss about it

It’s like accidentally calling your teacher mom 😬

Or grabbing a random person’s hand in the supermarket thinking they’re your parent 🫣

Embarrassing, but not a huge deal — unless you make it one

There’re those three seconds of slow motion Uhh and What just happened and Oops 🫠

And then time speeds up to normal again, you have a quick conversation with your eyes (gosh forbid you speak and bring the unspoken into reality 💀), and it’s over

^^ Alternatively, if Muichiro initiates a conversation to clear the air, then you’re able to have a mature and concise chat that is respectfully and patiently resolved

Embarrassing/accidental encounters are part of growing up

As long as they can be navigated ~safely, there shouldn’t be any lasting harm

⚠️I also want to emphasize that I am talking solely on inarguably accidental/one time incidences⚠️

Hehehe

Giyuu’s hand is stuck 🫣

Only for like, a fleeting second

But omg 😭

He was already embarrassed, and now he’s triply embarrassed 🫠🫠🫠

“... Tomioka-san?”

You won’t lie; you aren’t especially bothered 🤭

But it is a compromising position to be caught in; Giyuu lowkey crushing you, one of his palms clearly cupping your boob 😬

#wrestling #or something #so maybe this isn’t super realistic #forgive me

You’re about to repeat his name when he finally springs to life, immediately rolling off you, standing abruptly, about to literally sprint away

And then he remembers his manners 🙃

He offers you a hand

His other hand; his boob hand is currently tucked away in his haori

He’s never washing it again

#closet perv

“Thanks,” you smile faintly, accepting his assistance as you lift yourself from the ground

You hope he can’t hear your heartbeat 💓

He definitely can 😶

But can you hear his?

“I don’t think we should train together anymore.”

Giyuu is swift and harsh with his solutions

“Why?”

Your question comes out stiffer than intended

He hesitates, unable to interpret the fear in your tone — the longing

“I always beat you,” he explains lamely, “Don’t you get tired of losing?”

You scoff cheerfully, grinning now as you squeeze his hand

Fuck, we were still holding hands?! <— Giyuu is in shambles 😳

“I could never lose!” you declare, feelings brimming in your throat, spilling onto your tongue, “Not when I’m with you.”

Then we should absolutely stop training together would be the responsible reaction

Attachments are the most dangerous game for a Hashira to play 😕

Instead, Giyuu’s rendered speechless, unable to shake his hand from yours

“Well alright then,” he mutters, stomach churning as he narrowly avoids the warmth in your gaze

In fact, you swear he squeezes back 💓

“EXCUSE ME! I HAVE A WIFE!” 😤😤😤

“You have three wives.” 🙄

Sputtering, Tengen shrieks, “I already have plenty of breasts to touch!”

“Tengen,” you glare, not one to back down as you jab a finger into his own chest, “You touched my boob.” 😒

“AND I’M SORRY!” 😭

Much better 😌

“I don’t know what they see in you,” you scoff (you’re also lying, you can see plenty🤭), “They’re gorgeous… and you freak out when you accidentally touch a boob.” 💀

Tengen is 100% pouting now

“I don’t freak out when I touch their boobs,” he huffs

“Well aren’t they lucky.” 😐

“You could be lucky too!”

…

Tengen starts running

You give chase

“DID YOU TALK TO THEM ABOUT THIS?”

Tengen runs faster

“TENGEN!!!!!”

Tengen runs faster and faster

You give up

*insert gasping for air here*

“DO YOUR WIVES KNOW THEY’RE MARRIED TO A COWARD???!!!”

Oh well, you’ll have to visit their estate sometime this week 🙃

You’re sure to get an answer from Hina, Makio, and Suma ☺️

And you can’t wait to see more of Tengen 😏😋

Sorry, sometimes the horny just happens 🥴

#hashira x reader #headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #gyomei x reader #obanai x reader #mitsuri x reader #shinobu x reader #kyojuro x reader #sanemi x reader #muichiro x reader #giyuu x reader #tengen x reader

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pearlywritings · 2 months ago

Note

Balalaika ifa 👉👈

That was so much fun to write! And I can't wait for my man to be playable (am I back into my simping era???)

Chill, dude

pairing: Ifa x reader

prompt: cuteness aggression

word count: 1.1+ words

~ The Music of the Night event ~

“Oh dear! Oh dear!”

“How can you be so adorable!?” You cry out, bouncing the small body of the peach-feathered Qucusaurus between your palms, rubbing your nose against his beak. It takes all of your will-power to be gentle, to the point you are vibrating, and buzzing, and an ugly squeal is stuck in the back of your throat. “You are the softest, you are the prettiest, you are the babiest, you are the cutest, I literally want to eat you!”

Cacucu chirps, happily bobbing to match your energetic tossing of his form within your hands’ grasp. The ball-shaped saurian flaps his wings, quite enjoying all the attention you are giving him at the moment - he loves it when you visit him and his human companion, and always basks in your peculiar kind of affection. It feels like attacking, and had it been anyone else, Cacucu would’ve already angrily pecked them whenever he could’ve reached. You, however, do all that squeezing, face-pressing into him, pretending to want to mouth at him and many more weirdly kind things with such care and a ton of compliments, that the saurian can’t help but preen.

“Wow, bro! You a real one, bro! I like you, bro!”

“Aaawwwwmhmheheenamwahmwahmwah!”

The sounds of smooching join the bird twittering, making the lounge room in the veterinarian’s house even more vibrant than before. The Qucusaurus just accepts his fate to be smothered, even if not really kissed, falling backwards against your palms and tucking his legs close to his body.

“I could honestly eat you! Why snack-shaped if not edible?? Oh! Oh! Or I could put you in my pocket and bring you everywhere with m-”

“Chill, dude.”

You abruptly shut up, staring down at the quite content feathered baby in your hands. The saurian only blinks up at you and then turns his head towards the room’s entrance. You follow his example.

There, leaning on the doorframe, with arms crossed and the signature hat pushed off to rest on his back, stands Ifa. A knowing smile appears on his chapped lips, when he takes in the scene before him, looking from you to Cacucu and back.

Meanwhile you are staring at him incredulously, eyes slightly widened and mouth ajar. What did he just say?

“...did you just call me dude?”

“No way, bro!” The saurian seems to be on your side, jumping up on his feet and taking off in the air above your palms. This little show of support makes you feel justified, and now you are crossing your own arms, huffing in displeasure.

“Ifa, really? Me? Your partner? The love of your life?”

The white-haired male raises his brow, the corner of his mouth lifts too. His laid-off attitude is accentuated even more with the way he tilts his head and crosses one leg, still supporting the wall with his shoulder. Moreso there is a challenging look now in his eyes, boring into you with charming curiosity. Damn your lover for looking so effortlessly sexy!

But wait. You can totally make it his problem and also get your revenge.

Sure, pouring all your hardly-concealed love and adoration on Cacucu was nice and all, but there are still limits set by his small and fragile body. With a tall, toned man, however, you can stop holding back and even tackle him to the ground if you wanted to!

Oh-ho-ho, now you have a real case of cuteness aggression.

You quickly exchange looks with your soon-to-become partner-in-crime and need but a second to see that he is in complete agreement with you.

“Cacucu, get him.”

“Woah, woah, wait-”

Ifa bolts into the room obliquely when you jump towards him with the Qucusaurus swooping down from air. Grabbing the doorframe, you turn sharply, quickly locating your boyfriend, who’s just hopped over the backrest of the sofa and is now staring at you from behind the impromptu barricade.

“When I catch you, Ifa,” you threaten him, and your fingers twitch. You must squeeze this man.

“Okay, alright, babe, I was wrong,” the man puts one hand in front of him in a conciliatory gesture and uses the other to put the hat back on his head, simultaneously dodging his saurian companion’s aerial attacks.

“Too late, bro,” you grin rapaciously, slowly inching towards the two, and, once the vet is distracted, throw yourself at him full force, making you both fall onto the sofa, with him underneath you.

“Too late, bro, too late, bro!” Cacucu cheerfully repeats, flapping his wings above you.

The man squeezes his eyes shut from the impact his back makes with the cushions, and his arm instinctively flies to wrap around your waist. That’s his first mistake, because his embrace provokes the surge of affection on your part, and you wiggle your arms under his back. The air is knocked out of the man, when your hold tightens.

His second mistake is being hot once disheveled, with the hat falling over his forehead and the shirt opening wider due to two buttons undone, and you don’t deny yourself desire to latch onto his skin.

Ifa groans when he feels your teeth ghosting over his collarbones, lifting his free hand to adjust his hat and finally popping one eye open. His cheeks puff with air from held back laughter, when he sees how you rub your nose between his pecs with funny noises, mumbling something about wanting to bite him. He gasps when you indeed lightly bite him.

“Babe, chill, it’s still early in the afternoon.”

“It’s never too early to bother your boyfriend,” you snicker into his chest, scratching the small of his back with your nails, close to the sides. The man jolts and throws his head back with a sharp intake of breath.

“Archons, you are a menace.”

You hum happily and decide to have mercy, wiggling both arms from under his body. In a few seconds you are already straddling his thighs, reaching for his hat and taking it off. Cacucu, about whom you almost forgot, swoops down, latching his claws onto the brim, and zooms out of the room.

“Welp, good luck to me getting it back, I guess,” Ifa laughs, settling his palms on your hips, drawing circles with his thumbs. His gaze is warm when he looks up at you, and an eye-crinkling smile graces his handsome features.

“You’ll manage,” rolling your eyes, you cup his cheeks and bring your face closer, bumping your nose against his. “Besides… I like it when you are hatless. It means I can do… this!”

Somehow your fingers are in his hair already and you start messing with light mint locks, peppering his face with kisses.

And Ifa?

Ifa turns into a puddle underneath you.

#the music of the night event #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #ifa x reader #genshin impact ifa #genshin impact fluff

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st4vk1nmybra1n · 1 month ago

Text

wc: 500

cw: celebrity!caleb x gn!reader, just very silly fluffy headcanons! Reader is set to have an interviewing series similar to Chicken Shop Date called Tea-Time Talk!! (lowercase intended)

a/n: recently been geeking out over Love and Deepspace (might have a gambling addiction because of the gacha system) so i decided to write for Caleb :33 but i also have a longer fic for Sylus in the works.. wink wink

celebrity!caleb who gets restless at the thought of finally being able to join you on an episode for Tea-Time Talk, after months of pestering his manager and stalking all your posts and videos for the third time. (He's a d1 fan..)

celebrity!caleb whose eyes shine so bright when he's meeting you for the first time, resisting the urge to celebrate when you pull him in for a hug to greet him.

celebrity!caleb who brings out a gift as he sits down, smiling proudly as he watches you gasp in awe at the set of exotic and rare teas he got you!

celebrity!caleb who laughs just a little too hard at your jokes, full on slapping his knee, almost falling out of his seat. All while you blink in mild amusement and surprise. Surely you couldn't have been that funny..

celebrity!caleb who watches you skillfully pour him a cup of tea with his elbow resting against the table, holding up his arm which serves as a pillowy surface for him to lay his pretty little head on, giving you that signature puppy-dog-yearning look he's known for.

celebrity!caleb who takes a second too long to respond, a dumb smile on his lips as he watches you talk. His brain catches up a little late when he sees your gorgeous eyes narrow at him instead of sparkling and speaking all your sentences for you..

celebrity!caleb who answers all your questions earnestly, but is eager to learn more about you! So what if he starred in a new film or had a new feature or project out? He wants to know where you got that scar on your index finger from.

celebrity!caleb who compliments you on your tea pouring skills, playfully commenting about how you're a professional. (Which you are, considering this is your job..)

celebrity!caleb who runs through so many cups of tea from how much he simply sat and listened to you talk, preferring very much to listen to your voice. (Oh, and also– he just happens to take pretty large sips..)

celebrity!caleb who hums ruefully when you lament about how less you learned about him during your date– (even though you call every episode a “date” it doesn't make him any less giddy) only to then enthusiastically suggest a second date, all while his bright doe eyes stared you down.

celebrity!caleb who grins charmingly when you tell him you'll think about it, already thinking about how he'll get all his friends to comment on the video when it's up, imploring that you bring him on a second date.

celebrity!caleb who hugs you goodbye in his large and muscular arms, whispering in that quiet and husky voice about how nice it was to be on the show with you, passing you a small wink as he walks off set.

celebrity!caleb whose phone blows up once the video goes up on your channel, with everyone commenting about how there was so much chemistry between you two!

celebrity!caleb who can't help but preen and gloat when he sees comments talking about how you seemed to be extra flustered and break character around him, more than you'd done with anyone else.

celebrity!caleb who takes one good look at the views amassed on his video with you, and starts planning out his next date with you because duh!

celebrity!caleb who doesn't hesitate to @ you when he tweets “so when's the next date? ;)” thinking he definitely swooned you.

celebrity!caleb who definitely had you swooned, but he doesn't need to know that..

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rositaslabyrinth · 4 months ago

Text

He’s your bf headcanons - Dean W

Dean Winchester x gn!reader

There aren’t any content warnings so everyone can enjoy <3

Headcanons and scenarios based on Dean being your boyfriend

Word count ; 997

── .✦ Protective to a Fault

⟢ Dean is intensely protective, and yeah, a lot of that comes from the life he leads. If you’re a hunter, he insists on watching your back, always putting himself between you and danger. If you’re not, then good luck ever getting him to let you out of his sight when things get even remotely suspicious.

⟢ But it’s not just about monsters and demons—it’s in the little things, too. The way he walks on the outside of the sidewalk, the way his hand finds the small of your back in a crowded bar, the way he instinctively reaches for you in his sleep, even when he’s dead tired. He won’t always say he’s worried about you, but it’s in the way he brings you an extra layer when it’s cold, in the way he subtly checks you over after a hunt, his fingers ghosting over your skin like he’s making sure you’re still in one piece.

⟢ “You get hurt, and I swear—” he grumbles, shaking his head. But the way his fingers tighten around yours tells you the rest of what he won’t say out loud.

── .✦ Physical Affection Is His Love language

⟢ Dean pretends he’s the tough guy, all gruff and distant, but in reality? He’s touchy. And he doesn’t even realize it most of the time. He pulls you into his side when you’re standing next to him, rests his hand on your knee when he’s driving, absently plays with your fingers when you’re sitting together in the bunker. When he kisses you, he does it like he means it—deep, slow, like he’s memorizing the way you taste.

⟢ And after a long day? He won’t say he needs to hold you, but you’ll feel it in the way he tugs you into his arms, letting out a long breath as his chin rests against the top of your head. It’s how he grounds himself—reminding himself you’re here, safe, his.

── .✦ He Loves to Make You Laugh

⟢ Dean thrives on making you laugh. He’ll do the dumbest impressions, tell the worst dad jokes, even break out ridiculous dance moves just to see you crack a smile. If you’re upset, he’s all sarcastic quips and exaggerated antics, nudging you until you roll your eyes and finally let out a little laugh. And when you do? He grins like he just won the lottery.

⟢ “See? That’s the face I like. Much better, sweetheart.”

── .✦ Cooking for You Is One of His Biggest Love Languages

⟢ Dean Winchester might not be the most eloquent guy when it comes to feelings, but he sure as hell knows how to put love into a plate of food. He loves cooking for you—whether it’s a greasy diner-style breakfast with extra bacon or a late-night burger when you’re too exhausted to eat anything else. And if you compliment his cooking? Oh, he preens.

⟢ “Damn right, baby, best cook you’ve ever had.”

⟢ That being said, expect him to be extremely opinionated about what qualifies as “real food.” If you bring home something remotely healthy, he just squints at it like it personally insulted him.

⟢ “What even is that? Kale? That’s rabbit food, sweetheart. You’re killin’ me.”

── .✦ His Jealousy Is Subtle, but It’s There

⟢ Dean’s the type of guy who trusts you—he’s not about to smother you or get insecure over nothing. But if someone’s too friendly with you? Oh, you’ll see the shift. His jaw sets, his arm finds its way around your waist, and his voice drops just a little lower. He won’t cause a scene, but the way he stares at the guy who won’t stop flirting with you? Yeah. It’s a warning.

⟢ And later, when you’re alone? He won’t admit he was jealous, but he’ll tug you onto his lap, kiss you slow and deep, and mutter, “Just makin’ sure you know who you belong to, sweetheart.”

── .✦ He’s a Wreck When It Comes to Losing You

⟢ Dean is terrified of losing the people he loves. He’s been through too much, lost too many, and the idea of something happening to you? It eats at him. He hides it well—makes jokes, pretends he’s got it under control—but when you’re hurt? That’s when the mask slips.

⟢ “Damn it, sweetheart—what were you thinking? You could’ve—” He stops himself, running a hand over his face, exhaling hard. Then he pulls you into his chest, his heartbeat fast and uneven. “Just… don’t scare me like that again, okay?”

── .✦ He Loves Falling Asleep with You

⟢ Dean’s never been the type to be good at sleeping. Too many nightmares, too many nights spent on the road, gun under his pillow, waiting for something to go wrong. But you? You make it easier. When you’re curled up beside him, tucked against his chest, his arm slung over your waist—it’s the closest thing to peace he’s had in years.

⟢ And if he wakes up in the middle of the night, restless? He just reaches for you, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin, grounding himself in the steady rise and fall of your breathing.

── .✦ He’s Lowkey the Best Boyfriend Ever, Even If He Won’t Admit It

⟢ Dean Winchester will never call himself a romantic. He’ll roll his eyes if you say it. But the truth is? He is. He just doesn’t realize it. It’s in the way he remembers exactly how you like your coffee. In the way he brings you back little trinkets from cases because they reminded him of you. In the way he sings to you—badly, and usually off-key—when he thinks you’re not paying attention.

⟢ He’s not good at talking about feelings, but he shows them in every little thing he does.

⟢ And when you finally tell him, “You know you’re actually the best boyfriend ever, right?”—he just huffs, shaking his head with a smirk.

⟢ “Damn right I am. Took you long enough to notice, sweetheart.”

First headcanon post!!! Also I’m just going to be tagging all of my mutuals so if you don’t want to be tagged in my posts please please let me know!! I don’t want to be that person LMFAO

Tags : @daylighted @sunsettsam @clairiecidal @deerainy @emeraldcrs @deanangel @s4wdvator @morganwrites12672 @bluemerakis @bohemianblasphemy @velvetdandeli0n @sunsbaby @deanswidow @cherrygirlfriend @angelackless @figthoughts @deansbbyx @vmiina @deanspookiebear @aambearr @deansmisha @star-yawnznn @soldiersgirl

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester blurb #dean winchester drabble #dean winchester fanfiction #spn headcanon #dean winchester x gn!reader #supernatural headcanon #supernatural Dean Winchester #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester #supernatural #dean winchester x you #supernatural fluff #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester supernatural #supernatural x reader #rositaslabyrinthwrites

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