#this is kinda loosely based on an actual dream i had a while back

[janethepegasus]

Solomon found a magic pillow that can allow people to see into the dreams of other people. To test this out, he uses it when he goes to bed and wonders about what kind of dreams his adorable little apprentice has.

...Only to find himself in a strange looking school as a giant monster attacks, standing against this beast is Satan in some sort of super form and a Cookie Run OC named Strawberry Brownie Cookie, meanwhile Jane, who's holding Kirbopher for some reason, cheers them on.

Solomon being confused about what he saw is an understatement.

[r0se1111]

Stan Pines x Reader

This man won't leave my head get OUT!! Ford is a little hm... silly in this I love the guy but he was kinda crazy at this point rip. Loosely based on this. Might continue but I'll prob diverge from the og post a bit for completely selfish hurt/comfort purposes >:)

1982

You hadn't planned on getting your best friend sucked into a portal that leads to who knows where. You'd begged him to stop, trying desperately to convince him that together you'd figure something else out. But once Fiddleford left in a fit of hysteria, there was no one else to make sure Ford didn't end up killing himself over this project.

Maybe he'd be better off that way. Not floating past incomprehensible dimensions, armed with only a pair of out-of-date glasses and a worn coat. The bitter thought crosses your mind for a moment before the crushing guilt of even considering that punches you in the gut.

But no, you had stayed by his side, his ever-faithful research assistant. Every time you saw the dark circles under his eyes, the shake in his hands, and the madness written across his pale face, your heart just broke.

So when he'd told you he had reached out to his brother for help, and when his brother actually showed up, you could have cried tears of raw relief. Stan, as he introduced himself, was a little rough around the edges, broader and a bit taller than Ford, but had the same sort of tired wild hope in his eyes as Ford did when he was convinced the portal "just has to work this time!" And when Ford snapped at you in his exhaustion, Stan was quick to fly his hand out in front of you as if he could physically shield you from your friend's words. You decided then and there that you trusted him.

Things got worse as Ford explained his plan to his brother, all but pushing him out the door in his urgency to hide those damn journals. The two quickly fell into a fist-fight, you frantically hitting at shoulders and tugging at rouge elbows as you attempted to break them apart. Then you watched, horrified, as Ford floated through the air and into the blue glowing veil of the portal, disappearing from this dimension.

You heard the power shut off, and vaguely heard Stan screaming something you couldn't make out over the ringing of your ears and beating of your heart. Your wide eyes started blankly through the circle of the portal, as if you would see Ford simply standing on the other side.

You didn't.

Hands roughly grabbed your shoulders and a figure knelt down to make eye contact with you. Before your eyes focused and you could only process the basic shapes of that face, you had a wild thought that it was Ford, that the events of the past few minutes were just a bad, stress-fueled dream. But when you returned that hard stare, you saw longer hair and a slight raised scar across a lip moving in speech.

"You can get it to work, right? You made this with him?" Stan kneaded the skin of your shoulder, whether to soothe himself or you, you couldn't tell. His voice sounded raw and tired in fear and overuse, and it cracked a little with his desperate questioning. You gulp and stand, methodically walking to the control panel and repeating steps you had practiced hundreds of times before. Except, just like 99 out of 100 times before, there was no flicker of blue, no jolt of energy that brought Ford back. You tried again. No response. Again. Nothing.

You stood there working the knobs and buttons, doing the math in your head for what seemed like hours, until your hands were numb, and you were aware of tears wetting your cheeks. That hand was back, doing that funny little kneading motion which actually did a damn good job of grounding you.

"Hey... Y/N, right?"

You jerk your head around to look at Stan and see that he had those same tell-tale wet marks running down his cheeks. He had been watching you for all that time. His lips looked red and bitten at, and he'd lost that nice warm splash of color in his face. It suddenly hits you that while you'd lost your best friend, this guy had lost his brother. A wave a nausea makes you keel over.

"Oh-oh god," You choke out, pulling away from his comforting touch. You don't deserve it, not now. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Jesus, he's your brother Stan and I- I took him away, I let him do this-"

Stan is looking at you with a complicated expression, almost like he's in physical pain. He pulls his hand away from where he'd reached out again for you and formed a tight fist against his thigh. "You didn't-" A quick, sharp sigh. "Look." He brings his hands up to fiddle with his fingers in front of his stomach. "This whole situation is fucked, and if anyone is to blame for it it's not you. I want," He cuts off into another hitched breath and you notice his hands are shaking too. "I need to fix this." Stan fixes you with a suddenly determined gaze. "But I don't know shit about..." He gestures vaguely to the mess of buttons and pasted notes before you.

"You want my help." You don't ask, because there's no question about it. Of course you're helping. Even if this Stan guy had kicked you out and told you to get lost, you'd figure something out to get Ford back. Even if Stan turns out to be completely hopeless and obnoxious, you are staying in this sleepy little town and this run-down shack until your friend is home.

Stan nods, and the way he mutters a hoarse "please" makes you think he's not used to how that word feels, tastes. He's tangling his fingers together again, looking like a guilty kid awaiting his punishment. Your heart clenches. This guy is gonna kill me. You decide then and there that you were going to take good care of him.

This time it's you who reaches forward to press the weight of your hand into his shoulder. "I promise you, Stan, I'm not going anywhere until Ford is back."

Stan looks up at you and you realize those dark eyes you can never say no to run in the family. You spend a moment categorizing Stan's features, how his mouth twitches a little further left when he frowns, and how his strong nose looks a little snow-burned, red and raw. You stare at him a bit longer, feeling penitent and dizzy with the weight of the night's events.

Turning back to the control panel, you pick up a notebook haphazardly leaned against the wall the panel was tucked into. You flip it open to a miraculously blank page and rummage through your pocket for your spare pen. You let Stan lean into your space then begin writing. "So, quantum mechanics..."

[thewulf]

You Can Let It Go || Sirius Black

Summary: Request - So I kinda have a personal request. It’s loosely based off Matilda by harry styles. Basically the reader didn’t have a BAD childhood, just not normal. Like for example (of course she thinks its all normal as that is what they grew up with) ... Read Rest Here

A/N: Thank you so much for the request @loving-and-dreaming! I really hope you like it. This was tough to write initially but super fluffy and loving at the end. A good old hurt/comfort!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 4.5k +

TW: Talks of abuse, abusive parents, crying

“What about you?” Lily’s soft voice broke you out of the dream world you’d been in for the last few moments. They were talking about their childhood’s and all the fun things they did. Lily and her family always went down to the French seashore every summer for holiday. Remus and his brother would always go to camps around London while their parents worked away. James got to go to America almost every year to hang out with his uncle who was working at MACUSA. Even Sirius got to travel the world on his fathers dime. You didn’t really have anything. Your parents didn’t do things like that for you and your older sister.

“Hmm?” You hummed, not exactly sure what the group was talking about anymore as you thought about your past. As you looked up you locked eyes with the boy you’d had a crush on for years, Sirius, who was watching you with curiosity dancing in his iris’s. All eyes were on you.

She smiled, “What was your favorite snack from childhood? I think we’re the only two here who grew up with muggle parents.” Playfully, she bumped your shoulder with hers, “Can you believe they’ve never had a proper biscuit from Tesco before?” She smirked looking at all the confused faces around her. 

You nodded your head lightly, “I never really got any of those growing up. Dad always said they were for special occasions only.” Speaking nonchalantly, you found Lily giving you a somewhat confused look. Her eyebrows stitched together as she tried to gauge the comment for what it was, were you being serious?

“Biscuits?” She was a little perplexed. She’d always had them on hand. All her friends always seemed too also. It was fairly common to have them always stocked up in a British household. You never knew when you’d want a biscuit with your tea.

Humming and nodding your head you didn’t see the guys watching the interaction unfold with curiosity in their own faces. You’d made some off putting comments about your childhood to your friends in the past. Comments you never really thought twice about. Sirius started picking up on your not so normal childhood after fifth year when you came back to school looking a little paler, a little skinner and much more exhausted than he was used to seeing from you. He tried to pry, to figure out if you were okay but you just shrugged him off time and time again. You were okay. It was just home. You didn’t get to eat at home like you did at Hogwarts, but you never thought anything of it. Hogwarts was the exception. What family could put out feasts on a daily basis like the kitchens did here?

“Mum never really bought us snacks. When she did dad always locked them away, anyway.” You laughed softly not realizing how weird that statement was. You thought it was normal to have almost all of your cabinets under lock and key. It’s not like your parents ever let you spend the night outside of the house to actually see how other Brit’s lived. No, sleepovers weren’t allowed. Mum always told you it was for your safety but you were starting to think she was lying a bit to you.

“Locked them away?” James’ normally happy face quickly turned down into a frown as he processed what you actually said. See, Sirius had come to him last year more than concerned over how you came back to school. James then started picking up on the weird things you said. How you never went on holiday, how your first time out of London was to go to Hogwarts, how you never had a damn sweet even when you got good grades.

An uncomfortable smile brushed across your expression as you ignored the looks of distress on their face as you continued, “Yeah. Dad always complained that me and my sister went through them too quick. We cost them too much money. So, we’d have to earn them.”

Lily shook her head in disbelief, “You had to earn food?”

“Only snacks!” You countered quickly after finally picking up on the tension the conversation was bringing, “We just had to do our chores for the week and then dad would let us pick out a pack of whatever we wanted.” It didn’t sound that good out loud you realized after you said it. None of this sounded quite right now that you said it out loud.

“Love,” Remus spoke up, “You know that’s not okay right?”

You shrugged, “It got us to do our chores, no?” It was a justification, and you knew it. Maybe it was a little weird to hold food privileges over your head like that. But what did you know? They were your parents after all. Who were you to question them. It wasn’t like they hit you or anything. More so just seemed perpetually irritated with both you and your muggle sister.

This time Sirius spoke up, “And if you didn’t do your chores?” He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. He was trying to get you to understand how not normal your childhood seemed to be. How maybe just maybe your parents weren’t looking out for you as they should’ve been. He was more than concerned. And now that he’s finally broken free from his own Godforsaken family maybe he could help you with yours.

See, Sirius Black really liked you. Really, really liked you. But you’d never be able to figure that out as he hid his feelings for you under a tight lock and key. James, Remus, and Peter didn’t even seem to have a clue. Not that they should’ve known, he hid it well. Hid it for your sake. He’d decided long ago that your heart was better suited for somebody not as fucked up as him. He didn’t think he could give you what you deserved. He was broken and had far too much baggage for you. 

Instead of trying to pursue you he went the opposite route. He decided to pursue every other girl he found remotely attractive at Hogwarts. A distraction from you. And boy was it quite the distraction.

Biting your lip, you didn’t know if you wanted to admit what did happen if you skipped your daily chores. It only happened once. You missed the car home from school once and had to walk, never dreaming of calling your mum or dad. You completely spaced on cleaning the toilet and your mum wasn’t very pleased once she got home. 

Sighing you decided to just tell them. The look in Sirius’ face let you know he was not going to let it go, “It only happened once…” You trailed off feeling a little embarrassed to admit that your mum really did hold food back as a punishment. It just dawned on you how messed up that was. She literally didn’t feed you because you didn’t scrub a toilet on time… damn, that was messed up.

Sirius eyebrows rose as he waited for you to continue. When you didn’t he chose his next words carefully, “What happened love?” 

An attempt to laugh it off came out, “Well, mum always said I could stand to lose a few kilo’s…” You looked away quickly from him and down to your hands in your lap. Embarrassment of what you just admitted washing over you rapidly. It’s almost as if you could feel the anxiety rising in your chest as you reminded yourself to breathe in and out.

Lily gave your arm a squeeze, “She literally didn’t feed you?” Nothing but concern was in her eyes as she bore them right into your own.

“It only happened once.” You repeated more to yourself than to them. Because the more you thought about it the more you realized just how fucked your entire childhood was.

Being so wrapped up in your own mind you didn’t hear Sirius get up from the table. A gentle hand on your back made you jump. Turning your head up to him he gave you a soft smile, “Take a walk with me?” He held his hand out for you to take. You didn’t really want to take a walk with him. You wanted to run back to your dorm and bury yourself underneath the covers for the next week in shame. Hide away from your problems.

In your hesitation he softened his expression knowing exactly why you were acting this way. He too was in utter denial at just how messed up his home situation was until James sat him down. He knew it was embarrassing and completely out of your control. He knew you didn’t want five sets of eyes watching you as you finally learned and processed just how neglectful your parents were. It was hard. Impossible even. Something he wished he could take from you.

“If you want to, love.” He continued holding his hand out to you.

Giving him a quick nod, you placed your hand in his gingerly, “Yeah, of course.” You got up from the bench with the help of Sirius. Not daring to turn back around at your friends you followed behind Sirius as he walked out of the Great Hall holding his hand tightly over yours. You missed the saddened looks from your friends as you disappeared behind the doors.

He only dropped your hand when you started to pull away from him, “Are you alright?” Sirius asked quietly making sure the students passing by couldn’t hear in on the conversation between the two of you.

You nodded your head quickly, “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” It might’ve been a little bit of a white lie, but you didn’t want him worrying about you. No, Sirius had a million other problems, and you didn’t want to add to his own stresses.

A sad look crossed his own features now. Slowing down he pulled you to sit down on the bench just inside the courtyard, “Love, you can talk to me. You know that right? I… I’ve gone through the same bloody abusive things you have. I didn’t… couldn’t admit that it was happening to me. It wasn’t until Prongs forced a hand last year and it finally clicked. I had to get out of there. I… we’re worried about you. You came back to school not looking like your usual happy self two years in a row. I… we just need to know if you’re alright.”

Your eyebrows creased together listening to him, “Abusive?” The word came out as a whisper. Were your parents abusive? They didn’t hit you. They never struck you or your sister. But abuse didn’t just come in the form of physical punishment. Were they mentally abusive to you? Could you really have gone your whole life so clueless to their antics? 

He nodded with that same grim look on his face, “You told me a few days ago how your dad was always medicated and slept his life away. When he wasn’t high he was yelling at you and your sister… you have to know that’s not okay darling. That’s not a normal functioning thing a loving parent would do.”

Letting out the breath you were holding your eyes slowly found his. Of course, you knew Sirius would never judge you, but that little tinge of embarrassment was making your heart race, “Oh… wow.” Was all that came to your mind. Because wow. You thought you had a decent childhood. Really, it never seemed that awful. There were always things you wanted. And you got all the love you needed from your sister.  But damn this was a lot for you to comprehend all at once.

Sirius let you sit there and think before gently giving your hand a squeeze. He just wanted you to know he was there for you. He’d always be there for you. It broke his heart that somebody could want to hurt you. You of all people. So, kind. So gracious. The patience of a saint. Smartest girl he’d ever met. And yet you were so humble about it all. You were the whole package. Everything Sirius wanted and everything he knew he couldn’t have. 

“Is your sister okay?” He asked as he ran a comforting hand up and down your arm. 

Your stomach twisted in knots as you thought about just how much she went through when you weren’t there. How much did she hide? She’s the one that basically forced you out of the house as soon as you got the letter from Hogwarts all those years ago. A horrifying realization set in. She forced you out to help you. To get you away from the people you thought loved you. She sacrificed her own wellbeing so you could go off and be away for ten months of the year. She was looking out for you. She was always protecting you.

“She’s at uni now.” Your voice was shaky as you spoke to him. Naturally, your older sister would do that. She’d do anything to protect you, “Has a flat with some friends. She… should be okay.”

“Good.” A quick nod came from the beautiful raven haired boy sitting next to you. 

“Yeah,” Looking back down at your hands you continued, “I think I need to write her a letter.” 

It felt shameful to finally understand what you’d went through as a child. Had you really been that clueless? Had your sister protected you from the worst of it? The twisting and turning inside your body only made you feel worse. Insignificant. Dumb. 

“She’d probably like that.” He agreed with you. He didn’t want to push you to talk but his heart was slowly crumbling into a million pieces seeing you so despondent and confused. He wanted nothing more than to wrap you up in his arms and tell you how truly beautiful he found you. He wanted to be the one to build you up like James had done for him the previous summer. He wanted you to be free. Be the woman he knew you could be.

Humming in agreement it felt like your head was about to explode. What were you supposed to say to him? Why couldn’t you even look at him? Did your parents really hate you that much? Why didn’t you notice this at the time? 

Sirius watched as he saw the turmoil flash across your expression. You were thinking hard about this, too hard. See, Sirius knew you well. Better than you might’ve known yourself. From the moment he knew he liked you he decided he’d watch after you. He knew your tells. Your anxieties. The things that kept you up at night. He’d made himself your very best friend. Little did he know he’d made you fall in love with him at the same time. Just like you, he hadn’t a clue of how you felt for him. 

“Darling, you know you don’t have to go back there right?” He whispered while brushing stray hair away from your face. A shiver ripped down your spine at the gentlest touch from the most handsome boy you knew. It felt intimate the way he was both touching and looking at you. 

Your eyes went wide at the comment. Could you really not go back there? They were only muggles. It’s not like they could find you if you just… disappeared. And if Sirius could get away from his powerful family in the wizarding world, why couldn’t you sneak away from them?

“Siri… they’re my parents…” A groan of frustration finally bubbled to the surface as you really thought about it. They were your parents yes, but did they love you? Did they want the best for you? Did they even want you home? Was that why it was so easy to convince them to let you go to Hogwarts? You wouldn’t be their responsibility anymore?

“I can’t just… I can’t…” Not being able to find the words you desperately wanted to say left you giving your own head a squeeze in frustration. Why was this so difficult? 

He took your hands that covering your face in his own and pulled them away gently. He didn’t want you hurting yourself as your life just got rocked upside down. He knew it’d take time for you to fully come to terms with what the hell was going on.

“You can. You can let it go. You can let them go.” He answered you softy. His eyes scanned the surrounding area to make sure nobody was close before continuing, “You have us. Lily. Me. We’d do anything for you love. You know the Potter’s have a room for you already. Mia and Fleamont love you!”

You shook your head rapidly, “I can’t do that Siri! I’ll be nothing but a burden.” Hot tears welled up in the corner of your eyes. Trying to blink them back only let them fall down your face instead, “I can’t be a burden Sirius.” Your voice wobbled as you tried to calm down, take a breath. But even you knew that wasn’t going to happen.

Not having any of it he quickly wiped your tears away before taking your chin in his hands, “Please stop saying you can’t. You can. I know you can. You don’t deserve whatever they’re doing to you darling. You deserve the world and so much more.”

The look he was giving you only made more tears fall. Trying your hardest to keep them in you finally just gave up. You were going to cry like a little baby in front of him. The walls you put up were crumbling down with a simple touch and his look. 

He wrapped you in his arms and pulled you into his chest. Pulling the Gryffindor robe around your head to shield you from any looks that’d be coming your way. He didn’t want anybody to see you hurt and broken. He wanted to protect you. To make you feel whole again. 

He let you cry it out over the better part of five minutes not giving a damn that your tears were soaking through his clothing. He only pulled you tighter and closer after each small sob wracked your fragile body. He ran a comforting hand up and down your back as you clinked to him. 

He whispered, “It’s okay love. We’ll figure it out. We always do.” Over and over again trying to reassure you but damn was it hard seeing the girl he loved so upset. 

After he felt the sobs wind down and the tears dry up he knew he had to get you back to that dorm to clean you up. Help you feel refreshed and somewhat like a human once more.

Gently, he pulled you away from his chest. And if his heart wasn’t already shattered it surly was now by the look on your face. Layers of distrust and hurt clouded your eyes as you finally really processed how messed up your life outside of Hogwarts really was. 

“Come on love. Let’s get you back to the common room, yeah?” He whispered into your ear trying his best not to startle you.

“Alright.” You wiped the stray tears that kept falling away.

He didn’t give you much of a choice after that and for that you were immensely grateful. He took control of the situation, something you needed more than you knew. Pulling you into his side he took his house robe off, draping it over you instead so none of the other students could see your face that had been so clearly crying. He had to protect you from the terrible gossips from Hufflepuff that wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks. The last thing you needed was for some asshole Slytherin to make a joke in class at your expense. He knew how the students here operated.

He mumbled the password to the Fat Lady making sure you were covered entirely. She too was a terrible gossip. He pulled you right into the men’s shared restrooms not giving a shit if another boy was in there, he’d shoo them out and lock the door behind them. Perks of everybody being afraid of the Marauders for their pranks. Fortunately for the both of you nobody was there.

Sirius motioned for you to sit down at the bench near the faucets. Before you knew what he was up to he came back over with a wet rag and a sad expression still adorned, “I’m going to wipe down your cheeks if that’s okay with you love?”

“Please?” It came out as more of whisper as you didn’t trust your voice not to waver at the moment. You didn’t trust that you weren’t going to break down into another fresh set of tears at the way he was so delicately caring for you. You always knew he was the sweetest boy, but you didn’t know quite how far his kindness extended. He was going above and beyond, and it wasn’t lost on you. It only made your heart beat a little bit fast as he delicately wiped down your salt stained cheeks with a lukewarm rag. He was treating you as if you were the finest dish of China that would crack under any sort of pressure. 

“You deserve so much more darling.” He spoke as he continued cleaning up mess you’d made on your face.

You didn’t want to argue but you didn’t exactly feel the same way. Why did you deserve more? Why was he saying these things? 

“I don’t think so Siri. I think I got dealt the cards I deserve.” You couldn’t look at him. Your eyes were turned down to look at your feet.

He wanted to curse your parents. He wanted to curse himself. He didn’t understand how somebody like you could think so lowly of themselves. How couldn’t you see how amazing you really were? 

He let out a strangled sigh in frustration at himself for not building you up. He’d been too damn caught up distracting himself from you that he didn’t do the one thing he swore he would, protect you. 

“Love, look at me.” He stayed squatting so your face was at his level. He put the rag down on the bench next to you, “Please?”

And who were you to deny such a gentle request from him. You bit your cheek as your eyes locked with his once more. 

“I’m not lying or kidding or joking around when I say that you deserve so much more.” He cupped your face in his hands. Taking a deep breath, he knew this was the moment when all those feelings were about to spill out. He’d hidden them for his sake, but you needed to hear them now, “You are the kindest, sweetest, most patient woman I know. I want to spend time with you love. I get excited when I get to sit next to you in class. I look forward to every breakfast, lunch, and dinner because I get to sit next to you. You make my days so much brighter. It’s you, love. You helped piece me back together without even knowing it. It’s you that I want to spend the most time with. You’ve made me the best person that I could be. You.” He spoke slowly making sure that you heard every single word.

Your heart was racing beyond measure at his impassioned speech, “Siri…”

He shook his head placing a soft finger over your mouth, “You are one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. I’d be a fool not to tell you how much I adore you. How much I love you…” He paused seeing your eyes go wide. He threw it out there, the L word. But fuck it. He knew he loved you. You needed to know just how much, “I love you darling. With my whole heart. I love you and I’m in love with you. So deeply.”

More tears fell at that. So many more fell. He didn’t pressure you to say a word as he cleaned wiped them away the more they fell. He’d sit here for hours if that’s what you needed. He’d come to realize he’d do anything for you. He loved you. He was madly in love with you. 

Between the tears and the cries, you managed to confess the same, “I love you too. So much Siri.” 

You launched yourself into his arms knocking him over leaving the two of you on the restroom floor. Thank heavens they get cleaned more often than not. Your saddened tears turned to ones of happiness as the feeling of dread was being overtaken by that of love. His love had done this for you. He had done it for you. He really did love you.

Wrapping you in his arms he stood with ease while also holding onto you. He didn’t want you lying on the men’s restroom floor. No matter how elated he was that you’d just confessed that you loved him right on back.

Once your feet were back on solid ground he wasted no time in holding your face in his hands, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

Smiling for the first time that day all your brain could think was, “Yes, please.”

That was all he needed to hear before he met his lips with yours. He delicately wrapped a hand around the nape of your neck to support you. He smiled into the kiss feeling how needy you already seemed to be.

You ran your hands all along his chest as you deepened the kiss showing him just how badly you wanted him. Needed him at the moment. Your hands ran through his locks of hair eliciting the hottest moan you’d ever heard. Smiling yourself, you knew you’d be doing that often in the future. 

He snaked his other hand around your waist pulling you flush with his own body. Opening your mouth, you let out a soft whimper of pleasure feeling him so tightly pressed against you. Without breaking the kiss, he pushed you on the wall. Not giving you a single millimeter of space between the two of your bodies. 

Your head swam with nothing but raunchy thoughts of him. Oh, how your mind was on cloud nine. It was only when he needed a breath he pulled away. Still his face was only mere centimeters from yours as the two of you panted for the sweet oxygen you’d deprived yourselves of.

“That was…” You spoke after a moment of simply staring into his beautiful pupil blown brown eyes. Your eyes scanned his face spotting the light blush on his cheeks, the freckles that seemed to be more prominent under the flush. He was so beautiful. More handsome than anybody you knew or had ever seen. And he was yours. He loved you and you loved him.

“Bloody hell, love.” He smiled before wrapping you up in yet another mind shattering kiss. Surely, you could get used to this, “You are everything and more. I love you darling.” He whispered before picking you right back up in his arms. All you could do was squeal and giggle with delight letting him take you to wherever he wanted.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mamachasesmayhem

[hunterbunter3000]

I'm thinking of sweetheart being the mother of task force 141 when laswell isn't there like in the middle of the night when sweetheart is sleeping and just wakes up when she hears the door creaking and looks at the door and sees one of the boys looking like they were crying and they ask if they could cuddle with then because they had a nightmare and sweetheart just coos at them pats the empty spot so they can lay on and sweetheart spoons them making on of the boys feel safe and falls asleep immediately while sweetheart is slowly scratching their head

And then sweetheart falls asleep and when she wakes up of the cod boys are in her room, asleep and she just laughs and gets out of bed and go make some breakfast and coffee or tea for them

Like AHHODHDHEBR like if ghost was the one he would have slight tears in his eyes or konig I know damn well he would be holding a tiger teddy-

Fucking sobbing on the floor for this shit

I AM TOOOOO WTF THIS IS SO ADORABLE 😭😭😭 König holding a tiger teddy that he's had ever since he was a kid is making me ferallLLLLLLAAHHHH

LIKE MY MATERNAL INSTINCTS ARE JUST KICKING INNNNN

And I'm sorry- all I saw was König and tiger stuffy and now this whole thing is just about him AHAHANA

Brown Palace and Grey Oceans

--

(Help this got so long-- it always starts off funny and then i try to be an actual writer smh YOU'LL SEE WHAT I MEAN)

(I honestly don't know what König looks like... even the wiki lore isn't saying anything so I kinda just made him up myself 😅 like how everyone does LOL)

Süße Torte = Sweet Pie

Cw.: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFFY FLUFF

Word count: long. (IDK HOW TO DO A WORD COUNT)

Yk damn WELL König would open her door as quietly as possible and tip toe to her. He would second guess waking her up cause she looks so damn peaceful sleeping. Her eyelashes laying gently on her soft cheeks, the moonlight shining on her brown skin, making her look ethereal. But he needs comfort right now. The nightmare he had, he can't deal with that by himself.

So he would gently shake Sweetheart's shoulder. And she would SO wake up like a parent would: gasping for air, wide eyed and jerking back. He would step back and apologize. He thinks this was a bad idea but Sweetheart stops him.

Sweetheart, wiping her eyes and sleep in her voice: What's wrong hun?

König, holding his tiger to his side: Uhm... I had a bad... very bad dream.

He breathes in deep, tears welling in his eyes.

König, voice shaking: Can I please sleep with you...?

Sweetheart could hear her heart break. Seeing such a unit of a man be dwindled down to this... (I WANNA HUG HIM)

Her eyebrows knit together, sad that he feels this way. She scoots over and pats her bed. König sniffs, hand rubbing his nose under his home hood. (The brown embroidered hood Sweetheart made him for the base)

He squeezes in there, both of them getting situated in her already small bed. Sweetheart has most of the blanket, but König doesn't care. As long as he's with someone. (Sweetheart specifically)

He turns to her body, face now in her bosom. His eyes go wide, and he looks up at her. She smiles warmly at him. Her eyes go to the little tiger teddy he's holding in his hands. She coos at him.

Sweetheart: How long have you had that?

König feels embarrassed. He kinda forgot he even brought it with him, as it's his comfort companion. (His grandma found it in the attic and sent it to him)

He curses as he hides it behind his back, but Sweetheart grabs his arm. She holds the stuffed tiger, a cute tiny smile and round ears with stripes loosely sewn on the fading base. A big black button for the eye, but the other one is missing, it's just an opening. It's missing a tail, and some tears are on the body. A very old stuffed animal, but Sweetheart can tell it's loved.

Sweetheart: it's so cute... what's the name?

She's not judging him. A grown man, standing at a whopping 6'10, owns an old tiger stuffed animal that he has had ever since he was a child. And she's not judging him. Not laughing in his face and kicking him out. She's asking what his name is, with curiosity in her eyes. How is she real?

König, whispering: ....Hobbes.

Sweetheart: Pardon?

König, speaking a bit louder: His name is-- is Hobbes.

Sweetheart, gasps: Like from Calvin and Hobbes?

König, perks up: You know of those comics?

Sweetheart, giggling: Hell yeah! I used to read them constantly when I was younger. I still have them actually at my home! You could read some if you want when I go back.

König, getting excited and feeling better: I would love that, Süße Torte. Thank you.

Sweetheart, smiling and giving Hobbes back to him: No problem. Are you feeling tired?

He nods his head, about to take off his hood but stops himself. He looks at Sweetheart, eyes asking 'Should I take this off? Will you be uncomfortable?' She looks back him. 'The real question is, will You be uncomfortable if you take it off?'

König thinks on this. He looks back at her brown eyes. Her soft, dark eyes. Eyes that suck him every time he looks at them, entering the smoky quartz palace he would stay in forever. Eyes that always make him feel safe, wrapping him in the darkest color of silk. Eyes that hold many stories and love. Sensual, trustworthy eyes. He can trust her.

König: I trust you.

He takes it off and places it on the floor, face bare and open to the world. He could have sworn Sweetheart's eyes sparkled with actual stars when they got wide. His messy, auburn brown hair is swept back. Thick, soft angeled eyebrows nervously twitch under the hard stare from the woman.

And his eyes, oh, his round, gentle eyes. The ones that light up and shine when she looks at them. The grayish green tint reminded her of clear ocean water, wanting to swim in them forever. Eyes that hold many stories and many secrets. Beautiful eyes. He's beautiful to her.

With his crooked and scarred nose, he has broken many times over the years. Pink downturned lips, curtained over with a thin brown beard on a sharp jaw.

König gulps, eyes still focused on hers. They're staring into each other's color, too far gone to come back to reality. Sweetheart breaks it after what it felt like hours. She starts to laugh quietly, making König confused and a bit self-conscious. She looks back up at him.

Sweetheart, scoffing in disbelief: Who would've thought you were so pretty under those hoods...

He can't breathe.

Sweetheart, still shocked: I mean I never would've guessed. You're... wow.

She places her hand on his sharp cheek. Skin on skin. Warmth. He can feel it. Finally.

Sweetheart: You're really beautiful, Y'know that König?

He can't-- this- it's too much. Overwhelming. Her warm hand, the soft awe look in her eye, her scent, her words, her eyes-- it's too much.

He dips into her neck, hiding his face as his hands wrap around her.

König, beet red: Can we please just- go to sleep? My heart... my heart can't take much more of this.

Sweetheart giggles, wrapping her hands on his head.

Sweetheart: of course.

Her long nails scratch the nape of his neck, almost making König purr. He relaxes into her, molding his body against hers, as they finally give themselves to the night.

König woke up on an empty bed. The sunlight poked at his eyes, telling him to start his day. His hand feels the cozy sheets, where Sweetheart's supposed to be. Sweetheart. Where is she?

He rolls over but falls on the floor with a huge thud and a yelp, and her items shudder from his clumsiness. He grabs his hood as he gets up, stretching his sleepy body. How long was he asleep? It felt like a coma. But nonetheless, he feels extremely well rested, with Sweetheart in his arms and Hobbes-- wait a minute...

Where's Hobbes?

His heart rate picks up as he speeds walk out of her room. Are the others awake? Is she showing them? Making fun of him? No, no please no.

He gets out of his head when he Sweetheart in the living area alone, repairing Hobbes. She hums as she works with a smile, bonnet still on her head, wearing a big sweater and leggings with her legs crossed. She ticks up and sees König.

Sweetheart, waving at him: Good morning, baby! How'd ya sleep?

Baby?

Baby. She called him baby.

König stumbles back a bit. He shakes his head and clears his throat, an overwhelming feeling replacing the over-thinking.

König: yeah. I mean- fine! Good. Wonderful. I slept wonderfully. It was... I needed that. Thank you.

Sweetheart, chuckling: Of course! By the way, there's coffee and some eggs I made you in the kitchen. If you want it.

König, feeling his heart melt: Oh, thank you Süße Torte. I appreciate it.

She nods her head, continuing back to repairing Hobbes with her needle and thread. König relishes this feeling. The feeling of them being the only ones awake, the feeling of having breakfast made, the feeling of enjoying one's presence. It felt right. It felt domesticated. It felt...

Like they were together. In a relationship. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Husband and wife.

He shakes his head, almost spilling the sugar he was pouring for his coffee. He looks back at Sweetheart, still in her own world, being her. Being perfect.

Boyfriend and girlfriend. He scoffs, mixing his coffee. Please, that will never happen.

You're really beautiful, y'know that König?

He stops.

You're... wow.

His heart beating fast yet sinking at the same time. A small sick feeling in his stomach but butterflies in his chest. He collects his eggs and coffee and places it on the table before heading to Sweetheart on the couch. He sits across from her, watching her working hands, nimble and caring to Hobbes' tears. She sees him and smiles, showing her work.

Sweetheart: Look! I'm almost done sewing up his little scars. I also fixed his eye and tightened his ears and limbs! I need to wash and refill him, though.

She went on and on, rambling on what to do for Hobbes. König smiles. He hasn't done that in so long. He takes off his hood and places his hand on her knee. Their eyes meet, hers sparkling again from seeing his face.

König, sincerely smiling: I thank you for all that you have done for me. In just a short time... I feel like I found myself again.

Sweetheart beams. She's so glad she could help him out. Seeing König in that state last night makes her heart feel heavy, but none of that. He's happy. He's relaxed. He's grateful.

Her hand rests on top of his, and he moves his into hers, Sweetheart's now perched atop of his. The sun smiles on their eyes, their different colored crystals gleam bright.

Sweetheart: You're welcome.

They stayed like that, enjoying each other's company until they were sucked in.

Her Brown Palace and His Grey Oceans.

--

Lil Bonus.!

Sweetheart: Have you noticed that Hobbes doesn't have a tail?

König, snickering: Yes, I know. When I was little, Krueger would fight me over Hobbes. And one day, he pulled on it so hard that he ripped off the tail. I cried for days.

Sweetheart:

Sweetheart, getting up: Imma choke him out.

König: Sweetheart no that was years ago!

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Thank ya for reading ♡🙏

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Facetime

Masterlist

Summary: You and Dean facetime whenever he goes on a hunt, but things go south when he and Sam are miles away

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader 

Rating: R for language, violence

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: language, blood, violence, torture, hostage situation, implied nudity, injured reader, mind control, starts off fluffy but gets real dark real quick, reader is a fan of Chris Evans

Author’s Note: This is loosely based on a dream I had and I know this gif is Dean looking at a coffee maker, but if you squint the coffee maker looks like a laptop :) Also, I don’t usually use capital letters (intentionally, but for no particular reason) but I thought I’d see how my writing looks with capital letters.

gif source

“Dean I don’t think your mic’s working,” You furrowed your brows in frustration, trying to tell him you couldn’t hear a word he was saying.

“Yeah it was off, that makes sense,” He laughed lightly. You smiled, happy to hear his voice and see his face. Sam and Dean had been on this hunt for nearly four days at this point and you missed your boyfriend so much it was driving you crazy. 

You weren’t much of a hunter; you preferred to keep a safe distance and help with research, instead of picking up a machete and chopping up vampires. Dean knew you preferred to stay home and he was happy with you being out of the line of fire. He’d hate himself if he let you get hurt on a hunt, you were his everything.

It was hard, though. You lived in the bunker but you still didn’t spend as much time with Dean as you would’ve liked to. You wanted to be with him each night instead of falling asleep to either his music playing on vinyl or his voice over the phone if you were lucky enough to be in the same time zone. Most of the time you’d go days without hearing his voice. 

That was until Sam had the brilliant (but blatantly obvious, you couldn’t believe you hadn’t come up with it) idea of you and Dean facetiming while doing research for the case; as opposed to just texting each other important details. 

“So, what’re you hunting?” You asked. Your laptop was set up next to your phone which is what you were calling Dean from. You were seated in the library and eager to help however you could. 

“Sam’s thinking a god,” Dean sighed. “He’s out getting the food.”

“And you’re doing the research?” You laughed. 

“Well, I wanted to talk with you, and see that beautiful face of yours,” He smirked. “Sammy can do the actual research when he gets back, should be soon.”

“I miss you,” You smiled, he did the same.

“I miss you, too, hun. How’re you doing? Cas is gonna get back home tomorrow morning so you won’t have the whole bunker to yourself for much longer.”

“It’s really lonely,” You laughed wryly. “As an introvert, I swore never to say this, but I kinda wish more people lived here.”

“Yeah, I know it’s... it’s not ideal,” He gave you a sympathetic look. “Y’know there’s a library in town you could go to if you don’t wanna be alone.”

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna head over there. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight, I’m really starting to go stir-crazy!” 

“Wanna stay on the phone while you drive over there?” Dean asked hopefully.

“Of course!” You emphasized. “I’m so happy I finally get to talk to you for the first time today! I’m just gonna change into something more presentable real quick.”

“It’s 2pm on a Tuesday and you’re going to a public library; who are you thinking you might run into?” He teased lightly.

“Hey if I go not looking my best and Chris Evans just happens to be there I would kick myself!” You replied honestly. “Gimme a second.” You put the phone on your dresser and faced it away from where you would be changing.

“Y/n, I’ve seen you naked, you can change in front of me!” He sighed dramatically when you didn’t respond right away. “C’mon, I miss you!”

“You only get to see these boobs when you hurry up, finish that case, and get your ass back here!” You called out to him as you got dressed.

“That’s no fair,” Dean whined. You finished getting dressed pretty quickly and grabbed your phone off your dresser and your purse off your desk before you left the room.

“Okay I’m heading out now,” You smiled at your phone as you walked up to the entrance of the bunker.

“Which car are you taking?” Dean asked. 

“Mine; it’s parked outside, not in the garage. why?”

“Just wanna know you’ll be safe getting there. A lot of the cars in the garage tend to break down at random,” He replied. You hopped into your car and set your phone on the stand that was attached to the front window. 

“Ah, shit,” You winced suddenly, your hands now pressed against your temples. “De, something’s wrong-” You croaked out. Your head felt like it was going to explode as your vision began getting blurry. 

“Y/n? Y/n, talk to me! What’s happening,” Dean exclaimed, his voice ripe with panic. 

The pounding in your head suddenly stopped as your vision went black and you passed out. 

Your head was throbbing as you woke up. You tried bringing your hands to your head but then realized you were tied to a chair. You then also realized you were wearing nothing but a bra and your boy-short panties. 

“What the fuck,” You mumbled to yourself. You tightened your fists and pulled against the restraints.

“It’s no use, y/n,” A voice behind you announced. “You’re not going anywhere anytime soon. who knows, you might even die here.”

**

“Y/n? Y/n!” Dean exclaimed. He was completely panicking as he watched your car door open and someone pull you out of the driver’s seat. 

“Dean Winchester!” The man picked up the cell phone and showed Dean his face; complete with hideous black eyes. “Looks like I now have the thing you care about most,” The demon laughed. 

“You son of a bitch,” Dean screamed. “You hurt her and I swear I will-”

“What? What’re you gonna do Dean? Kill me? You don’t know where I’m taking her and I’m dumping this meat suit before you get the chance to figure out this guy’s name. No, you can’t do anything, Dean. You are completely and utterly powerless. I have the bitch you seem to love so much, and there’s nothing you can do.”

“What do you want?” Dean seethed through gritted teeth. He slammed his fist on the table next to him. “What do you fucking want?”

“To watch you suffer,” The demon smirked then hung up.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean screamed. He grabbed the chair he was sitting on and threw it to the side in frustration.

“Dean, what the hell?” Sam exclaimed. He had walked in right as the chair hit the wall. “I take a little too long getting the burgers and you start breaking the furniture?” He laughed lightly. 

“Y/n,” Dean shouted. “A demon has y/n!”

“What the fuck? How? When?” Sam’s eyes widened.

“Just now, we- we were facetiming and she was gonna go to the library- and she- it just took her Sam- I-” Tears welled in Dean's eyes as he looked at his younger brother with desperation. 

**

“What do you want from me?” You asked the demon. He was now kneeling in front of you as he toyed with your hair. 

“Nothing, sweetheart,” He smiled wickedly. “You see, you are very important to Dean Winchester; I hate Dean Winchester. I want him to suffer. Having you locked up in here is the easiest way to torture him. He’ll find you eventually, I’m sure, but you’ll be so broken and beaten you won’t ever be the same. You’ll never be his cheerful y/n again. You’ll be worn down by what I'm going to do to you, you’re not going to want to be anywhere near him. And that will break his heart beyond repair - that will be the ultimate torture. I'll be known as the demon who destroyed Dean Winchester’s will to live.”

“You’re wrong,” You whispered. “Dean cares about me, sure, but losing me isn’t gonna break him, you idiot! He'll be over me within a few months then he will hunt you down and tear you limb from limb.”

“Maybe,” The demon shrugged. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see how long it takes him to get over you.” He pulled a knife out of his back pocket and plunged it into your thigh. You screamed in pain as tears streamed down your face. You looked down at the blood now dripping down your thigh then looked back up.

“D-Dean?” You whispered. “Wh-What’s going on?” Your head was spinning as you tried to focus on the man in front of you. “Dean! Dean, you found me?”

“Yeah, hun, it’s me,” The demon held your face with his hands. 

“H-Help me out of here,” You quivered, confused as to why Dean was so calm. He shook his head, smiled, then gripped the knife and twisted it. “Y-You’re not Dean!”

“Of course I am, y/n! And I'm so happy I finally get to show you how I really feel about you,” He smiled. He took the knife out and pressed it against your left breast. “You know I never really cared much about you, you’re just an easy lay.”

“You’re not Dean,” You closed your eyes tightly. “Dean loves me.”

“Awe, that’s really sweet y/n, but of course I'm Dean! And I wouldn’t say I love you, more like I love having my own pathetic fucktoy handy at all times,” He patted your cheek. “I mean, let’s face it; all we do when I'm not hunting is have sex! Why else would I want you living with me?”

“That’s- That’s not true!” You whispered, more to yourself than to the monster posing as the love of your life. “We have movie nights, we bake pie, we have dinner together, we-”

“Do we?” He touched your temple with two fingers. “Dean never did any of that with you.”

“Y-You never did any of that with me,” You mumbled.

**

“Days, Sam! It's been days!” Dean shouted. “Y/n is still with that fucking demon!”

“I know it’s been days, Dean but you need to sleep. Just four hours; recharge and come back with a clear head.”

“Do you think y/n is able to sleep? Or have a second of peace or quiet! She is being tortured by a demon, because of me!”

“Cas will be back with some information in a few hours, until then you should sleep,” Sam suggested. “Look, we’ve done all we can for right now, you’re no use to y/n if you’re too tired to function!”

Before Dean could protest, his phone rang and he answered; “Hello?”

“Dean Winchester,” the voice replied.

“Yes? Who is this?”

“I’m the demon that’s got y/n,” He replied. Dean could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I swear to God I will find you and-”

“And you’ll kill me, blah, blah, blah; you’ve said that before. I'm just calling to let you know you can have her back. I'll text you the address.” The demon hung up.

“What-” Dean brought his phone down, confused. “That was the demon, he said he’s texting me the address where y/n is,” He told Sam.

“What? That makes no sense?”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t lying,” Dean held up his phone and showed Sam the text. 

“It’s definitely a trap, right?”

“Doesn't matter, let's go; we can meet Cas there.”

“Dean, that's at least a six-hour drive; let me drive so you can sleep,” Sam offered. Dean was ridiculously tired and he knew he wasn’t at his full strength so he decided to take a nap on the way.

**

“Y/n! Oh my god!” Dean exclaimed when he walked into the dark warehouse and saw you tied to the chair.

“Sam?” You breathed out. “Cas?” You smiled slightly, barely lifting your head. 

“Hey- Hey hun,” Dean crouched down and held your face.

“What, now you’re all sweet?” You scoffed, then looked past him and up at his younger brother. “Sam, please help me! Dean, he- he did this to me.”

“What? No! No, no, I would never! I love you," Dean stuttered, not taking his eyes off you. He untied your right hand and you punched the side of his head, which caused him to fall to the side. 

“Cas! Please! You guys have to believe me!”

“It's okay, you’re safe now,” Cas came up to you. He put two fingers on your forehead and healed you. “We’re gonna take you home, okay?”

“Okay,” You replied as the angel untied you. Sam looked around for your clothes and, surprisingly, found them off to the side and folded neatly. Cas helped you up as Sam handed you your jeans and shirt, and you happily put them on. Dean was standing up at this point, but he just stood there; silent tears falling as he looked at you. 

“Y/n- Hun, please- please tell me you know this wasn’t me!” He whispered, you looked over at him. “Please you- you know it was a demon!”

“Oh and where is this demon now, Dean?” You asked flatly, Dean stayed silent. “You know, I fucking trusted you!” Tears escaped your eyes and you brushed them away quickly. You continued, gritting your teeth in anger, “I hate you.” 

“Let’s get you home,” Sam interrupted, he knew Dean didn’t do this and he needed to figure out how to make you know too. You nodded and followed Castiel out the door, Sam followed you and, after a moment, Dean did too.

Cas opened the back door for you while Sam opened the passenger door. 

“Sam, can you drive?” You asked him quietly. “Please? I know you don’t believe me about Dean, but I don't trust him; please don’t let him drive.”

“Sweetheart, I-” Dean started, overhearing what you said to Sam.

“Don’t you dare call me that,” You hissed and pointed your finger at him with anger. You turned back to Sam, “If it was up to me, I’d say cuff him; but at least don’t let him be the fucking driver!” With that, you hopped in the back seat, Cas doing the same after you.

Dean took the demon cuffs out of his back pocket and handed them to Sam before holding his hands behind him.

“Seriously?” Sam scoffed.

“I want her to feel safe,” Dean replied. “Well, as safe as she can feel while I'm still in proximity.” Sam nodded and cuffed his older brother before they both got into the car; Sam in the driver’s seat.

**

“You really don’t believe me?” You practically screamed. You were all back at the bunker and Sam was refusing to lock Dean up in the dungeon.

“It's not that I don’t believe you-”

“Then do something!”

“Sam, Dean, can I talk to you?” Cas asked and the three went around the corner, you huffed to yourself and sat at the war room table. “There’s something really wrong with y/n.”

“Yeah, Cas, we can tell,” Dean replied.

“No, I mean, really wrong! When I healed her at the warehouse, I could feel something pushing back.”

“What do you think that means?” Sam asked.

“I think we need to call Crowley. He’s had a soft spot for y/n for a while now, maybe he’ll know what’s wrong.”

“Yeah, great! Let another demon get their hands on her,” Dean scoffed sarcastically.

“Crowley isn’t just ‘another demon’ Dean; he might be able to reverse whatever’s happened here!” Castiel retorted. 

“Fine, fine we’ll give him a call,” Dean sighed. The three of them walked back around the corner but you weren’t sitting at the table anymore. “Y/n?” Dean called out, beginning to panic.

Sam rushed outside while Dean checked your bedroom and Cas checked the garage.

“Y/n, what’re you doing?” Dean asked. You frantically threw clothes into your duffle and didn’t answer him. “Sweet- Uh, sorry- y/n please,” Dean stumbled over his words.

“I’m leaving Dean, and I never want to see you again!” You exclaimed and tried to brush past him. He gently gripped your forearm to pull you back and your demeanor changed. “Please, please don’t hurt me,” You whispered; tears welled in your eyes as Dean’s widened. He let go of you and put his hands up, backing away.

“No, no I- I’m not going to hurt you, y/n, I wanna help you,” He said calmly. “We all do. Please, don’t go.”

“Why are you being so sweet now, I don’t understand,” You let the tears fall. “Is it just cause of Sam and Cas? Is that it? You’d like to take out your knife and get back to work but you don’t want your baby brother and your best friend to see you torturing me?”

“I- I don’t know what to say, y/n,” He replied, also letting tears fall. “I swear that was not me!”

“Right, right it was a demon,” You scoffed. “Seriously, Dean? The least you could do is own up to what you did, for fuck’s sake! But I guess I should’ve seen this coming, huh?”

“What’re you talking about?”

“You only ever cared about my body, Dean! Was just a matter of time before you got bored and used what Alastair taught you!”

“What? Y/n we’ve known each other for ten years, we’ve only been dating the last two! We didn’t even sleep together the first four months because we wanted to take it slow; do you not remember any of this?”

“Does this actually work on people?” You laughed. “You fake a few tears, look at them with lost puppy eyes, and try to make them believe such ridiculous lies?”

“Y/n!” Castiel called out from behind you. He had checked the garage and when he didn’t see you there he decided to check the kitchen and then head over to your bedroom.

“Castiel, please get me out of here!” You hurried to his side. “Dean won’t let me leave!”

“No- I-” Dean tried to protest but then just shook his head in defeat, not wanting to make things worse.

“We have a working theory going about what happened,” Cas lied to you. “We think Dean may have been possessed before, and the demon that possessed him may still be looking for you. You should stay here in the bunker where it’s safe, okay?”

“Okay, Cas, I trust you,” You clung to his arm, still terrified of Dean. 

“Dean, why don’t you get Sam and meet me in the dungeon in a few minutes,” Cas asked him. “Y/n, you can stay in your room until we know more.”

**

It took Crowley a couple of days to figure out what the demon did but once he did, he called Dean and was summoned to the bunker.

“It’s a hex bag,” He said before his trademark, “Hello, boys.”

“A hex bag? Where?” Sam asked. “She’s changed clothes, we’re nowhere near the warehouse-”

“According to Frank-” 

“Frank? The demon’s name is Frank?” Dean scoffed.

“Yes,” Crowley rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Frank said he carved it into her thigh.”

“Good Lord,” Sam muttered. 

“How do we get it out?” Dean asked Crowley. “We can’t just cut back into her!”

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Crowley replied.

“No! She’s already terrified we can’t-”

“I can put her to sleep,” Castiel suggested. “She shouldn’t feel a thing.”

“Well, let’s get this over with,” Crowley walked out of the dungeon and over to your room.

“What’s he doing here?” You glared at Dean when the four men entered your bedroom. You had been seated on your couch reading when Crowley knocked and opened the door.

“Dean, maybe you should wait outside,” Sam told him quietly. Dean nodded slightly and backed out of the room.

**

“She’s asking for you,” Sam smiled a little, walking into the library to find Dean downing another glass of whiskey.

“Seriously!? She wants to see me?” He practically jumped out of the chair and then hurried to your room. He took a deep breath and opened your door.

You were at the edge of your bed with one knee tucked against you. When Dean entered, you looked at him with tear-stained eyes and let a quiet sob leave your lips. 

“I’m so sorry,” You whispered. “De, I’m so, so sorry!”

“No, no, no it’s- none of this is your fault,” He hurried to your side but hesitated to wrap his arms around you. “Can I… Can I hug you? Please?”

“Of course,” You replied and wrapped your arms around him when he held you. “I love you so much, Dean, I’m so sorry I believed the demon.”

“It’s not your fault, it was a hex bag,” He kissed the crown of your head. “You didn’t have a choice.”

“I know, but I should’ve been able to snap out of it!” You protested. “I mean, these hands,” You took his left hand and held it, kissing his palm gently. “I love these hands, how could I have believed that they, that you hurt me?” You kissed his hand again then looked up at him. “I’m sorry, for what I said.”

“It’s okay,” He kissed your forehead. “I’m just glad you’re okay, that you’re back.” The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while before Dean asked you, “How are you feeling?”

“Physically? Fine. Emotionally? Fucking terrible,” You replied, squeezing Dean tighter. “I keep getting these like flashbacks about what the demon did, and in a lot of the memories the demon still looks like you.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart, that sounds awful!”

“Yeah,” You sighed. “I'll be okay though, I’ve got you.”

[imagineteamfreewill]

An Imagined Life

Title: An Imagined Life

Pairing: Author!Dean x Interior Decorator!Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Fluff

Summary: Y/N and Dean have been best friends since childhood, and though they’re both adults with busy lives, they still manage to keep up their weekly traditions.

A/N: Wow! It's been SO long since I posted on here. Hey everyone! This kinda came out of nowhere, but nonetheless, it was fun to write. Thank you to everyone who supports me here, on Patreon, and on ao3. Thank you for reading, and enjoy! Dividers are by @firefly-graphics

There’s no response when you knock on Dean’s front door, and you smile to yourself as you crouch down to pull the spare key out from behind the loose siding at the base of the house. He’s never quite gotten around to finding a new place to put it, even after his dad found the hiding spot and trashed the place while the two of you were out of town, but it really doesn’t matter anyway. Very few people actually know who Dean is. You’re fairly certain most of his neighbors think that he’s a hermit, rather than a bestselling author.

Once you’ve wrangled the door open, you set the key on his entryway table and shift the plate of hot pancakes so you can carry it with both hands.

“Dean!” you call, peering up the stairs. There are no lights on in the hallway. His living room’s a mess, and you have to step over several piles of books as you cross through to get to the kitchen. “Dean, I brought pancakes!”

He still doesn’t answer and you sigh, shedding your jacket and tossing it on the island before heading back through the living room and up the stairs to his room. He’s probably still in bed. There’s no doubt that he’d been up late writing again, considering the various pages spread across the couch cushions. His laptop sits nearby, too.

The couch is his second favorite place to write—with the back porch being his first—despite the fact that in the beginning, he’d been adamant against your choice in seating. The two of you had argued about it for over an hour. He hadn’t liked the legs. You’d insisted that he’d needed it, and in the end, he’d relented. After all, he’d hired you to decorate his new house, and he trusted you to do a good job. Even though you’d played pranks on him ever since you were little, you wouldn’t dream of screwing up a client’s house, even if it was Dean.

You and Dean have been best friends since kindergarten. During your very first week of school, he’d stood up for you when another kid had tried to take your beloved coloring book during a rainy day recess. The two of you have been like velcro ever since. You’d gone to all the same schools, even for college, and you’d both moved across the country to pursue your dreams after graduation. He’d moved into a modest fixer upper on the outskirts of the city and you’d moved into an apartment nearby the studio where you’d started your career, but the commute hasn’t stopped either of you from continuing your tradition of Sunday morning breakfasts, or in this case, Sunday afternoon breakfasts.

Knocking on his bedroom door, you carefully push it open and poke your head into the room. Sure enough, Dean is sprawled out across his bed, the blankets covering one bare leg and his upper half. The only thing visible at the top of the comforter is a tuft of brown hair. Smiling to yourself, you open the door the rest of the way and cross the room to open the curtains. You slide the plate of pancakes onto the only clear spot on his dresser as you pass.

“Rise and shine!” you cheer, and Dean answers you with a singular, sleepy grunt. Chuckling, you leap onto his bed, making him bounce on the mattress. He groans again and pulls the covers closer around him from the inside. 

“Come on, Dean! I brought pancakes this week!”

Silence answers you, and just as you’re opening your mouth to try and coerce him for the third time, Dean grumbles,

“Remind me to hide the spare key.”

You grin and yank his pillow out from under his head, then lean down so you can speak directly into his ear. “You and I both know you’ll never do that.”

He groans again, and you briefly wonder how he ever managed to start a career when his vocabulary is so limited in the morning. When you tell him as much, Dean reaches his hands out from under the blankets, pulls his pillow from your grasp, and flips the blankets off his head before shoving the pillow back under him where it belongs. He turns onto his back and rests his head back on the pillow as he squints up at the ceiling, his eyes adjusting to the midday sun streaming in through the tall bedroom windows.

“Did you really have to open the curtains?” he asks as he rubs his eyes with the back of one hand. His voice is thick from sleep, making it gravelly and just a little deeper than normal. It makes you smile. You love Dean in the morning, even if he is a grump.

“Probably not,” you reply. Flopping down beside him, you stare up at the ceiling fan in silence, letting him wake up the rest of the way on his own. You’ve done your job spectacularly.

Finally, Dean sighs heavily and sits up, letting the blankets slide halfway onto the floor as he shifts his legs over the side of the bed. You turn onto your side and prop your head up with one elbow, watching him. He’d gone to bed in just his black boxers again, leaving his back exposed to you. The sunlight turns his skin golden.

He’s been out in the sun, you think. His freckles stand out more than usual, and as he stretches, your mind wanders. The two of you have never dated, which is strange. You enjoy spending time with him, and it’s not like you think he was ugly. In reality, Dean is one of the most attractive people you know. He could convince you to do anything if he smiled while he asked. If he asked you to date him, you’d say yes. Hell, if he asked you to marry him, you’d say yes.

“You just gonna stare at me or are we gonna eat?” Dean asks, and you grin, pushing away your thoughts as you quickly try to make up for your long silence.

“Eating sounds good, but I can’t say I’m opposed to staring at your back for the rest of the day. It’s a nice back,” you tease.

“Shut up.” Dean turns and grabs his pillow, tossing it at your head.

You laugh and move your hand from where it’s supporting your head, effectively blocking the hit. Dean smiles down at you, despite his initial grumpiness after being jarred awake, and you grin even wider when his expression softens.

"You have a good week?" he asks, and you nod.

"You? Looks like you got a lot of writing done."

Dean nods slightly and stands, stretching his arms above his head with a groan. You force yourself to look away.

Why am I suddenly thinking about dating Dean?

Silently, you scold yourself and sit up on the other side of the mattress. Your back is to him, which gives you a moment to compose yourself. It’s too early for crazy thoughts about going out with your best friend. That’s more of a 3:00 AM thought.

You don’t want to mess with a good thing, you remind yourself. It’s the reason you avidly avoid the topic of dating when anyone brings it up, especially at holidays. For the longest time, your mom and Mary Winchester have been conspiring to get the two of you together. Back when you were younger, you fielded their questions with ease by telling them that you only thought of Dean as a friend and that you were more focused on your career, but you can practically picture their expressions if they ever heard your private thoughts about Dean’s back. These thoughts will have to be something you take to your grave.

You clear your throat and get up, grabbing the plate and rounding the end of the bed. “Ready?” you ask.

Dean grabs a t-shirt from the laundry basket on top of his dresser, then pulls it over his head. He glances at himself in the mirror before running a hand through his hair and heading out into the hallway. You follow him down the stairs and to the kitchen, plate in hand.

He starts pulling down plates, cups, and silverware for the two of you while you stick the plate in the microwave. 

“There’s syrup in the fridge,” he tells you, pointing just behind you. “Can you get the creamer, too?”

You hum in acknowledgement and turn around to do just that, and he starts the coffee maker. Dean knows exactly how you like your coffee. The thought that he does makes you smile as you hunt through the contents of his fridge.

“So what’s the plan for today?” he asks.

Glancing over your shoulder, you grab the syrup from the door before closing it and taking a few steps to the island so you can dump the bottle of creamer there, too. You settle on one of the bar stools and watch him from the side as he makes your coffee. Last year, you’d convinced him to buy a fancier coffee maker, and though he’d been reluctant to change and get rid of the faithful machine that had helped him through his first bestseller, Dean eventually agreed that the newer model was better. Plus, it meant that he could make you some truly great breakfast drinks, not just plain coffee with creamer like he normally has.

“Besides pancakes? I have to run to IKEA and look at some decor options for a client. Do you want to come with?”

His nose crinkles enough that you can see it from your seat. “Shopping?”

You lean forward over the island, propping your chin on your hand as you give him the biggest puppy eyes you can muster. “Please, Dean?” you whine. “Please spend time with your oldest, prettiest, and most talented friend so I don’t perish of loneliness before I can settle down like a good, upstanding citizen. I need someone with me to ward off all the suitors that might harass me while I do my weekly throw pillow shopping.”

Dean snorts. “You’re insane.”

“Am I?” You drop your hand down and push yourself up on the counter, just enough that your reach is long enough to reach the cup of coffee he’s brought over for you. You pull it closer and lift it to your nose so you can breathe in the rich aroma, then take a sip. As predicted, it’s perfect. With a sigh, you plop back onto the stool.

“Yes, you are,” he laughs.

The microwave beeps and Dean abandons his mug to get the pancakes, and you busy yourself by arranging your plate and silverware in front of you. You don’t have to ask Dean to heap your portion onto your plate. He does it automatically, piling pancakes in front of you until you give him a satisfied nod. As he plates his own food, you start dishing up your toppings.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get out of the house a little today,” Dean says after the two of you have had a chance to tuck into your food. 

You look up at him, eyebrows raised in surprise and a loaded fork held halfway to your mouth. “Really? You actually want to go shopping with me?”

He shrugs and takes another bite.

“Okay, then I’m going to finish these pancakes so we can get going before you change your mind,” you tell him, and you start to shovel your food into your mouth more earnestly. He smiles a little before doing the same.

After you and Dean clean up from your late breakfast, you pile into the Impala. He has to stop for gas, so you spend that time searching through your inspiration photos and the screenshots of items you’d looked at on the website. It’s nice to not have to drive, and it gives you a better chance to focus your thoughts on what the most important items will be. As much as he loathes shopping, Dean likes to wander, which means you can’t get distracted from what you really need for the houses, rather than what you’ve walked past four times.

“All good?” you ask, glancing up from your phone when he climbs back into the driver’s seat. Dean hums in agreement and turns the key in the ignition again, then cranks the music as he pulls out of the gas station. You laugh a little when he punches the accelerator once you’re on an open stretch of highway, and you lock your phone, leaning back in your seat.

It’s a nice enough day that you can have the windows down. The wind in your face reminds you of the long road trips you’d taken together in college, and the drive you’d made to move from college to your current home. Those are some of your happiest adult memories with Dean. Some of the moments you replay over and over again in your head each night are from those trips. 

“So what exactly are we getting here?” Dean asks as he turns into the massive store lot. “Throw pillows? Vases with fake grass? Giant, framed, sepia-toned pictures of cows?”

You roll your eyes at the design cliches he always teases you about. “A couch and a coffee table,” you shoot back. “Although, you seem to know a lot about those cow pictures. Have you been researching one for your own house?”

He sends you a scathing look, but it’s quickly replaced by a small smile when you laugh at his reaction.

Climbing out of the car, you pull out your phone again. “I haven’t picked out a coffee table, but the couch…” You scroll through the pictures until you find the one you want, then hold it out for him to see. “Here, this is what I’m looking for. I just hope they have it here—they don’t ship this one and I don’t want to drive four hours to the next IKEA.”

Dean glances over at the Impala, and his smile is gone. “That’s not going to fit, Y/N. If I’d known you were getting furniture—”

“I’m just reserving it.” You shake your head. “I’ll have one of the interns pick it up tomorrow morning.”

He nods back and his shoulders relax slightly as you head into the store. Thankfully, it’s less crowded than you’d anticipated, which lets you keep a lazy pace as you walk. You’re not quite wandering, but you’re not worried about people trying to get past whenever you and Dean stop to look at one of the room displays.

“This one’s nice,” Dean says. He nods at a metal coffee table in one of the fake living rooms. 

You crinkle your nose, feeling a little bad that you can’t agree. “It’s okay. Not quite what I’m looking for, though. It’s not really the vibe of the family.”

“Yeah?” He glances over at you as you hum and pick a pillow to inspect the design closer. “What’s the vibe?”

You set the pillow back in the giant metal basket and think about it for a second. “They’re more natural, like a… spa commercial. Lots of light natural woods, white linens, birdsong in the background, that kinda thing.” You gesture vaguely with one hand.

“Ah, so the daughter’s name is Serenity and the mother does weekly yoga with the other women from the neighborhood,” Dean replies.

“Exactly.”

“Dad’s probably a workaholic, and he goes along with whatever the mom wants because he knows it’ll keep her off his back. He doesn’t mind all the organic stuff, but he’s not above getting McDonald’s for lunch. He pays with cash, though, because his wife keeps careful track of their money,” Dean continues.

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re really fleshing this one out, aren’t you?”

He shrugs with a little satisfied smile, then pushes the cart forward to the next display room.

“Okay, so what about this one?” you ask. You wave your hand toward the half-dining room, half-living room display that’s been set up. It’s clearly meant to mimic a small apartment, because almost everything doubles as storage. The decor reminds you of your own apartment when you’d first moved out of college. You’d been broke after the cross-country move, and most of your things had been leftover from your dorm. You didn’t get “real” furniture until almost two years later. Dean had offered to help pay for the basics, but you’d turned him down. He’d already had his hands full with fixer-upper he’d bought with the advance from his first book.

Dean considers the faux apartment, letting his eyes sweep over each item with care before he finally answers, “They just moved cross-country. He’s planning on proposing to her, but he doesn’t have a ring yet because they spent all their money on the new apartment. It’s barely big enough for them, let alone the stuff they have from college and from their parents’ basements, but she loves it anyway. She likes to decorate with things she finds at thrift stores and the flea market, and he’s secretly been saving every penny he can to buy her the ring he thinks she deserves. If everything goes his way, he’s hoping to ask her next summer, and he’s going to string up the living room with lights because she always mentions how much she misses the fields of fireflies from where they grew up together.”

You smile to yourself, imagining the couple as Dean weaves his story around you. The aisles in this area of the store are empty, and his voice draws you into the picture he’s creating on a whim. It’s warm and homey, and it reminds you a little of your own life, just enough that you can imagine it clearly.

“I like that,” you finally say, after several moments have gone by. “What about that one?” You point a little farther down the aisle.

“The kitchen?” Dean asks. You nod in response. “Well, our couple’s gotten older, but he still hasn’t proposed. They still live together, and they’ve got a better place now that they both have better jobs, but every time he sees a ring or thinks it’s the right time to pop the question, he starts second-guessing himself. So, since they have a backyard now, he gets her a dog, instead.”

“What kind of dog?”

He looks over at you. “What kind of dog do you want it to be?”

You nudge him with your elbow, smiling. “Come on, Dean. You know me. I’m always gonna answer that they need a golden retriever. Every cheesy romance novel and movie has a golden retriever.”

He laughs a little and looks back at the empty kitchen. “A golden retriever it is, then. He’s a rescue, so he’s already three, but she spends every extra minute she has training him. She’s worked hard to make their house a home, you know, so she has to make sure to keep his muddy paws off the couch.”

“Of course,” you agree.

Dean pushes the cart forward again, and the two of you walk a little further, passing by countless closets, more living rooms, a plant display, and another kitchen. Finally, you reach a children’s bedroom, and you pause just for a moment. It’s long enough that Dean notices, however, so he stops and looks over at you.

“Did you find something you like?” he asks. “I didn’t see that couch you wanted earlier when we passed through the sofa section.”

Something about the first story Dean had come up with today stuck with you, and as you peer at the display, you can’t help but picture yourself crouching down beside the ladybug-themed bed. You imagine yourself brushing hair back off a child’s forehead, and you chuckle at the idea of a golden retriever who would hop up by the kid’s feet though it’s too big for the bed.

“What about this?” you ask, quietly, almost so quiet that the music covers it up.

Dean’s silence for a second. “We have a kid now, and he’s everything we’ve ever dreamed.”

You don’t fail to notice that Dean’s changed his story—it’s no longer “them” and “the couple”. It’s we. He keeps his eyes focused on the bed as he talks, but you look over at him. His eyes are a little glossy, and his expression is far away as he continues,

“We still live in the same house, and I’ve got a ring stashed away in a box of rough edits. You haven’t found it yet, but every time I go out, I’m worried that you’ll try to tidy up my office and find it.”

You swallow thickly and stare at him, wide-eyed. Careful not to disturb him too much, you move your hand a little. Your fingers bump against his, and Dean lets you maneuver his hand so it’s wrapped around yours, but he still doesn’t look away from the display bedroom. People are walking past you. Their voices and the music playing overhead feel far away, like they’re in a totally different universe. You’re so focused on Dean that you can’t see, feel, or hear anything outside of your little bubble.

“You’ve totally taken over everything,” Dean continues, chuckling. His lips turn up in a smile. He speaks without hesitation, and with enough passion in every word that you know he means everything he says. This isn’t just pretending anymore.

“The house is amazing, and you’ve gotten into gardening. Everything you touch seems to thrive, including me. I’ve got two more books on the bestsellers list, and it’s enough money that I don’t have to worry about how we’re going to make it. I know that we’ll be okay, no matter what happens. Your business is doing great, too. You stepped back since Robert was born, but you’ve got a partner and enough employees and interns that you can relax.

“You’re up here, right now,” he says. He lifts your joined hands to point towards the bed. “Tucking Robert in.”

“I am?” you prompt.

He nods. “When you’re back downstairs, I’m going to propose.”

“How are you going to ask me?” you murmur, almost afraid to ask.

Dean looks away from the display. His eyes meet yours, and you inhale sharply when he reaches behind himself to push the cart further away. He sinks to one knee and takes your other hand as you gape down at him.

“Dean…”

“I have loved you since the moment I saw you, Y/N,” he says.

You can sense people watching you, and to your left you can see someone holding up their phone to take a picture or to record you, but you can’t tear your eyes away from him. Tears are welling up, making your vision blurry, and you blink them away. They roll down your cheeks. In any other circumstance, you’d be embarrassed to cry in public, but it’s Dean. He chases all your fears away, and his hands in yours pull you into a moment you never thought you’d see.

“I have thought about proposing to you since we moved here,” Dean continues. “I think about it every day. Every morning, I wake up, Y/N, and I wonder why I haven’t asked you yet. Sometimes it feels like if I go another minute without being engaged to you, I’ll die. I don’t even have a ring; I haven’t been able to find the perfect one, but I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of our lives together. I want to reach our goals and make new dreams together. I know this is sudden, and it’s a lot, and you can say no—I know that you weren’t expecting this—but I can’t let another day go by without asking.”

You’re at a loss for words. He’s right— you weren’t expecting this. You and Dean aren’t even dating, but the idea of spending your life with him doesn’t feel wrong or far-fetched. It feels perfect. You may be blindsided, but you’re not afraid of admitting when something is right.

Dean rubs his thumb over the side of your hand, and it draws you back down to him. “So what do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?”

After a second, you find yourself nodding. You throw yourself down into Dean’s arms. “Yes,” you say into his ear. You sniffle and press your face into his shoulder, and though your voice is muffled by his shirt, you know he’ll understand. “Yes, Dean. I love you so much.”

There’s scattered applause from all around you. Slowly, you sniffle and pull away, wiping your eyes with a smile and a laugh. Dean helps you stand again, and you brush the dust off your knees as shoppers crowd in to congratulate you. You nod along and thank them, a little embarrassed at all the attention, but soon you’re following Dean out of the store. An employee stops you at the door to give you a gift card from management, which you pocket in a daze. 

Neither one of you has bought anything, and you’ve totally forgotten to reserve the couch and coffee table you’d come for, but Dean leads you out to the Impala anyway. Then, once you’re away from prying eyes and the warmth of the sun is on your skin, he kisses you. His hands find your hips as he presses you back against the passenger side door, and you wrap your arms around his neck. Dean’s kiss is sweet and slow, and you know that it’s going to be something you remember for the rest of your life.

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[thicctails]

"Viva la Viva, baby!"

So guess who watched Trolls 3 today~

Ngl, based on the trailers I had really low expectations for this movie, and it was really only after watching some TikToks with the villain song in them that I decided to give it a chance, and I'm so glad I did. 3 is by far my favourite of the entire series. Was not expecting to love Viva, but she was fantastic and I wish we had more screen time with her!

While I'm not entirely sure how I will/would integrate her into the Rough and Fluff AU, I decided to make a design for her anyways, complete with some little headcanons/additions. (Click the image for better quality)

More spoilery/AU discussions and 4th movie predictions below!

Okay okay, movie discussion first:

-I fucking LOVE the Putt Putt Trolls. Its so satisfying seeing how the trauma from the bergens being more fleshed out, and it makes perfect sense that they are as fearful as they are. I'm actually surprised there wasn't more pushback when Viva stopped them from executing Bridget and Gristle.

-(How did they escape actually? The tunnels collapsed, but were there other tunnels? Or did they have a different way out? How did so many, including the eldest heir to the throne, get left behind? Why did Peppy not get BOTH his daughter's immediately?)

-On the topic of Viva; notice how her ears are lower/sharper than Poppy's? I think that's typically a more masculine trait (not 100% bc we see some male trolls with softer/rounder ears) so uh yeah MTF Viva real suck my entire nards

-Fuck King Peppy. This guy gets worse every movie. He is the Dumbledoor/Sensi Wu of Trolls. Mans cannot just give Poppy relevant information to save his LIFE. I can understand not telling Poppy immediately, the grief of loosing his eldest daughter would understandably make that hard, but its been over 20 years now, and she deserved to know.

-Also, fuck most of Branch's brothers! I'm glad JD went back eventually (when exactly he did isn't clear, but sometime between the night of the escape and the first movie) but if he assumed Branch had died, why not try and contact his other siblings to tell them? Clay I can kinda understand with him not wanting to venture out beyond the mini golf area and leave the trolls he was helping to protect, but the rest of them? Not one of them tried to go back for their baby brother? Not even Floyd? When Trollstice was a thing?? Branch shoulda thrown hands fr.

-Rhonda the armadillo bus thing was hella cute and I want a plushie.

-I. Do not really like Crimp

-Velvet and Veneer slayed sooooooo hard. I hope Veneer makes a comeback.

-I also hope we see more of the other troll tribes again.

-The music for this movie was absolutely fire and I NEED a full cover of Sweet Dreams

-I wish the Grandma's death was touched on more than once for like .5 seconds. Like, come on guys, your brother just revealed a major trauma, and that your GRANDMA died!! For christ sake, maybe go apologize for fighting?? maybe go comfort him????

Movie numero 4 predictions:

-Broppy marriage. Branch fr said "Lets get married" by accident HES THINKING ABOUT IT

-Either Poppy/Viva get their mom back, or Branch gets one/both of his parents. Dreamworks will pull some bullshit out of their ass and say that uhm actually they escaped like years before the others did and have been, idk, trapped in the shadow realm or something.

-We see Chef/Creek again. Creek redemption ark would go crazy hard IF DONE RIGHT and I want to see that fear of some monster trying to eat all your friends come back again

-Broppy kid reveal at the end of the movie. Unbelievable amounts of Plush Toy Marketing and terrible spin offs ensue.

-backstory/lore/backstory/lore/backstory/lore/BACK

-I just want to see more Trollstice era stuff plz dreamworks

-We get a Sound of Silence reprise

-Branch/his brothers are revealed to be a hybrid/some kind of special troll. I am TELLING YOU this guy adapted to different kinds of music like it was NOTHING, something Poppy and the others struggled with. Hes got something in him I SWEAR

-Tiny diamond is, once again, part of the main supporting characters

Au shiz:

-If Viva IS put in, its going to most likely be during the sequel. Peppy is already going to be dragged through the mud, might have him mention something about a lost sibling near the end of the OG fic, and since the Pop trolls will be looking for a new home, maybe they'll run into her

-Branch's brothers will not be making an appearance. They simply dont fit into the narrative. I may do an alternate au with them included but who knows.

-Mildly considering making Tiny Diamond a Greek kid. (Guy x Creek) would make for some interesting angst.

[pixelchills]

My Celestial mutants got isekai'd last night.

You know how my dreams tend to be so vivid and have actual clear storylines that inspire me with a lot of my stories sometimes. Last night I had one of those dreams. I kinda blame the concept for binging Lookism the other day, but somehow my brain generated a whole new story loosely based on that, my Animutant AU, and the celestial characters in it. 

So, in this universe, Animutants were not lab-created creatures, but born to human families yet treated like a “curse”. Animutants were not ageing slower than humans, nor were they bigger than them like in my original AU. They were immune to most human illnesses, but somehow the people seemed to think they were just abominations; most of them were hunted, killed, and banned from cities or public places. No rights for almost anything. 

I think this could’ve been because they were alien offspring or something.

If an Animutant baby was born to a family, the government would pay the parents for killing it. The reason why they were so hated was never fully mentioned, but I might need to work on the details if I ever wish to expand this story. 

Animutant kids were not allowed to attend schools, and adult Animutants couldn’t really get almost any type of job. Most bigger cities and towns had them banned from entering completely, leaving most of them to live in smaller villages, the mountains and the woods or small abandoned islands. 

Sunrise was a human, 20 years old when the dream started. He was a high school dropout, living with his abusive alcoholic father after his mother had left them when he was in middle school. Sun worked as a cashier in a convenience store, and did a lot of babysitting on the side. 

He was nervous, clumsy and wimpy, liked superhero comics and art. He was trying to save the money he got from his jobs to move out from his dad’s place, but his dad kept stealing his paychecks as “rent” for letting Sun live with him. 

Not was he only abused by his father, but the reason why Sunrise had dropped out of high school had been bullying, and his old bullies seemed to somehow torment him once in a while even when he was just working his jobs. His life was really just miserable. 

Then one night he has a really weird dream, and in the morning, when he wakes up, he realises he is no longer a human.

Panicked about his sudden change in appearance, he calls work sick, and hides in his room trying to do research. He realises he has been turned into an Animutant. He reads about all the horrible stuff that happens to Animutants in places where they’re not allowed to be, like his city. 

Sun runs away from home.

After days of dodging cities he’s not allowed to enter, he finally arrives at a small village which claims itself to be Animutant friendly. He tries to book a room from the motel in the village, but his ID doesn’t match his face, and he’s denied the stay. 

Before he continues looking for a place to stay he is stopped by a woman, who asks if he's a friend of the (Surname missing) family, because his facial features remind her of their son, who was born as an Animutant. 

“That poor family,” she said. 

Sun gets the address of the house and rings their doorbell. If they had decided to keep their son, maybe they wouldn’t mind him staying over for a night or two if he pays them. 

Moondrop opens the door, and Sun is immediately taken back by his pretty pretty eyes. A bit of an awkward first meeting, just like in the original story, and Moon’s mother invites Sunrise to come in. 

Moon’s parents let Sun stay over, and he tells them about his issue of suddenly turning into an Animutant despite being born human. Moon’s parents don’t think he is lying, but tell him about this Animutant traveller who stopped in their village about 10 years ago, who was also born human but turned into an Animutant overnight. They said the traveller had been rumoured to settle somewhere in the mountains, but no one knew exactly where. 

Moon was going to be sent to the mountains to work for this “mage” after his 21st birthday. Because getting money as an Animutant was a difficult thing, most parents who kept their children would usually send them to work to another family and get the money from it, and Moon, who clearly loved his parents, wanted to support them financially. 

Sun learns that Moon was homeschooled by his mother, because Animutants were not allowed to attend schools. I think Moon also had an older sibling, and their family had a lot of cats. Sun is so taken by the difference between his own father, and Moon’s parents, who were supportive and not even a little bit abusive to their son, who wasn’t even human. 

Sun gets to stay with them until September, when Moon turns 21 and leaves to the mountains. Moon becomes Sun’s first and most important friend during the summer they spend together. Moon’s parents wrote a letter to the mage for the boys to take with them, asking him to let Sun stay with the mage until he figures out how to turn back to human. 

The mage approves it, but only if Sun will work for him too, yet refuses to pay Moon’s parents more than originally planned. So Sun works for the shelter and meals. 

Their job is basically to just take care of the house; do firewood, cook, clean, take care of the garden etc. 

In their freetime they explore the mountains, looking for the traveller for answers. Eventually they meet him (it’s Solar!) and get some answers about a some sort of spell casted upon Solar and Sunrise by a goddess of unfortunate souls. Solar said he has given up looking for the goddess to revert the spell, and doesn’t mind his life as it is; a bit lonely at times, yes, but at least no one bothers him. 

Eventually Sun and Moon finally get a hold of this goddess (the details how exactly they did that are missing). When she asks Sun if he truly wishes to return to his life as a human and get back to the city, Sun becomes hesitant. As much as he has tried to pursue his goal to return to being human, he has also been given a life he would’ve never been able to have as a human. And he has fallen in love. 

He needs to choose between his own humanity, or staying with Moon. 

He chooses the latter. 

At the end of the dream, they got married! What a wonderful ending! :D

If I ever decide to write an original book, this is the story I’m going for. 

[variousqueerthings]

Thoughts on Jonny Lee Miller please?

sdfghjhgfdsadfgh FRIEND YOU JUST MADE ME VERY HAPPY

(we need to send asks more!!!!!! in this interwebs tumblr cultúre)

JLM THOTS (JLM thot)

okay so I cannot remember when I started watching Elementary, but that was my first conscious JLM (I had watched Trainspotting, but I was but a babby at the time -- I have seen it... some times since then), and listen. we through around the word ND on this here site, but I think Mr. JLM as Sherlock Holmes is one of the original tumblr ND regents, and still absolutely Peak! this man knew what he was doing!

and then I went on a little JLM tour, and I am here to give you the top movies I saw with him at the time (after which I will do the list of movies I want to watch now): Hackers, Trainspotting + T2, Plunkett and Mcleane (seriously, this movie is underrated!), The Flying Scotsman, Mansfield Park, Regeneration -- also most underrated Mr Knightley in Emma + in a fun, odd little show called Eli Stone (I also watched Mindhunters, Byzantium -- which is some great Gemma Arterton -- The Escapist, Aeon Flux, and Dark Shadows, and I'm not necessarily saying don't watch these... well, maybe don't watch Dark Shadows... but they weren't my favourite. although Byzantium is fascinating. misogynist vampires)

Movies I have yet to see that I want to watch: Dead Man's Walk, Complicity, Love Honour and Obey, and Dracula 2000

MOVIES TO SHORTLY GIVE AN EXTRA SHOUTOUT TO

I'm not going to talk about Hackers (famously dreaming about wearing a latex bodysuit and getting railed by his future irl wife Angeline Jolie) or Trainspotting, but T2 -- is it good? yeah, it's not bad actually. did it need to exist? no, no it didn't. did it enjoy textually pointing out that Renton and Sick Boy have some kinda Sexual Tension? yeah, yeah, yeah! actually kind of feels like the main reason it exists is to go "hmmm do you think Renton and Sick Boy are a bit... youknow?"

also shoutout to Robert Carlyle who's in the Trainspotting films and also co-starred with JLM in their very own homoerotic duo film, which includes Liv Tyler "Plunkett and Macleane" loosely based on the history of two real highway men, and it's. just such a great movie. it's one of my "please it's so fun and so silly and such a product of the 90s! Craig Armstrong did the music!" it's kind of got some polyamory going on?

The Flying Scotsman is about a real amateur cyclist, and it's a pretty by-the-numbers inspirational tale, but I quite like those when they're about real underdogs and Graeme Obree certainly was that. From memory (it's been a few years now) I believe I watched this film and went "ah so that's where some of the early development of Sherlock Holmes mannerisms stems from," so it's also just fun as a study of JLM the actor

Regeneration -- gotta mention this one, because of it being about Siegfried Sassoon. he doesn't play Sassoon, but he's very good in it and generally it's a fascinating piece based on a book that I for some reason have only read the sequels of, and I'd recommend anything about Sassoon, I'm easy like that

I also didn't mention Frankenstein up above, but I watched both versions of it back whenever it was being shown with National Theatre Live and he was fucking stunning in both roles. as Frankenstein he's a little different to how I often picture him (read: JLM is not giving pathetic twink, although he is giving twitchy weirdo), but JLM is so physical throughout, so pitch-perfect in how he's interpreting the role. and as Adam/the creature it's like every bit of tension he's ever been able to control is just unleashed, it's sooooo (argh gotta see if I can find a torrent of that so I can rewatch him)

Now the thing about JLM is that he's often cast as kinda the straight man in a lot of his stuff, but he's... so not.... that man is silly! and you can tell! his physicality is a bouncy little weirdo, and for a good long while his body was that of a bouncy little weirdo -- and then he got fuckn Big 🥵😂 (you can take the man out of the bouncy little weirdo, but you can't take the bouncy little weirdo out of the man...... smthin like that. the more i look at this sentence the more I feel like this is an innuendo, oh well. now it's intentional)

the thing I really like about him is that he seems totally un-self-conscious while playing characters who are often under great scrutiny, either for being considered criminal and/or for being visibly non-neurotypical and/or otherwise non-normative. he's a hacker, he's an addict, he's a creature that was created from the bodies of other men, he's a bipolar cyclist, he's giving us Thee Sherlock Holmes of modern times, stimming, kinky, caring, blunt, overstimulated, relapsing, deeply unconventionally in a relationship with Watson that doesn't attempt to fit them into any mainstream language at any point!

also he has the best grimace of ever. he's so good at looking simply. perturbed. uncomfortable. get me out of this party. when he's 70 or 80 he's going to be the best old man face 🥺🥺🥺

also if I am very very lucky and very very nice to my mum, she'll take me to watch him in his current play in London, wish me luck!

TL;DR underrated character actor JLM, broader than you think he is, the hero of portrayals of weirdos and freaks and outcasts, I think it's wild that he's danced around playing queers this entire time, make him kiss a man stat!

(there's a whole other, very specific analysis of his gender in Hackers and how that relates to a wider feeling about his particular take on masculinity in a lot of my favourite portrayals of his, and also there was a youtube video that i just spent 15mins trying to find on Hackers from a transgender perspective that's mostly correctly-so about Cereal Killer/Matthew Lillard, but touches on the gender-fuckery of JLM and Angelina Jolie)

(okay I wasn't gonna talk about Hackers, but we cannot forget this scene, we simply cannot!)

[notsosilentsister]

The Diplomat

I kinda get why one might keep the awful husband around - he's a loose cannon who gets results, an asset as much as a liability. And while Kate often disagrees with him about the means, they do seem to be on the same page regarding the ends, which does matter, after all. You do get the sense that they share certain core values. So keeping him around is a high risk, high reward strategy.

It also seems like Kate's living a bit vicariously through him - she's so very restrained (as signified for instance by the eating disorder), and in a way he's a permission mechanism, sabotaging the restraint, and at the same time a cautionary tale, justifying the restraint. Maybe he's her Jungian shadow, doing what she doesn't allow herself to do. I also kinda get how you might love someone while not at all trusting them, and that always makes for an interesting dynamic. He still has to go - I'm on episode four - at least for a while, because I ship Kate with the State secretary. Competence porn, for sure, but I'm so jaded about politics at this point that it's starting to break my suspension of disbelief. People are all so professional, focussed on the task at hand. Sure, there may be some personal vanity involved on occasion, but the show does a good job showing how seemingly frivolous things can be valid concerns when you're in the business of reputation management. (Kate acknowledges that the presidend is right to worry about looking old and weak - there's an undeniable cost to it, it's just that the cost of a show of strength would be higher in this particular case). And sure, people fuck up, but so far all the fuck ups are the sort you easily might make when you have to make quick decisions based on insufficient information, and it's often easy to see how every alternative option could have led to something disastrous just as well. It want to see some unforced errors! But unforced errors are made at one's leisure, which no one has in this show and that brings me to my main issue: pacing and stakes. Which are too fast, and too high, respectively, for my taste. I tend to prefer the sort of character study, where characters get some room to breathe (and rope to hang themselves with; for that, you gotta cut them some slack). That's what I really loved about the Americans, where the pace could ramp up to nail-biting degrees at the drop of a hat, but also linger, allow for a slow, downright torturous build-up of tension, for treacherous lulls in the action, a temptation to succumb to the lure of mundanity, the American dream in suburbia, a false sense of security. You might easily lose track of something, that would later come back to bite you in the ass, which added to the suspense, and made the sudden eruptions of violence, always simmering below the surface, seem more shocking and at the same time more inevitable, less contrived. I always kinda had to steel myself to watch the Americans and would be left reeling for a while after a lot of episodes. Well, this is more of a comedy, but the pace for me is is too constant, I guess. I'm also not sure that I buy into the central thesis as formulated by the awful husband, that the person most suited for power is the one being thrust into it by circumstances instead of actively seeking it out. It's a very popular sentiment (why your average hero first has to refuse the call), but a bit too romantic for my taste. 

I mean, obviously you'd want someone in power who sees power only as a means to an end - to protect, to promote - and not as an end in itself. But that seems less about "wanting power" vs "not wanting power" and more about what precisely one might want the power for. And personally, I do actually feel more comfortable with someone in power who does care enough about power to study it, to find out how it works and how it doesn't work in any given situation, and who can hold onto it long enough to actually implement a proper reform. Being naive about power has never helped any cause. For what it's worth, I do think that both Hal and Kate actually care very much about power in this way. But right now, they both would rather be the power behind the throne, and that's not gonna work, because someone also has to sit on it. I mean, Kate would argueably still be a power behind the throne as a VP, but one suspects that Hal's idea is more about Kate pulling the president's strings, and Hal pulling Kate's. It's a good conflict! Anyways, I would have always watched this for Kerri Russel no matter what, and would certainly watch another season as well.

[analexthatexists]

It happened AGAIN.

Remember this post about a dream I had?

…dude, it happened again.

I woke up as some sort of little girl avatar with big glasses, and this time I was actually in a public VR Chat world. Looked kind of like the outside of a shopping center / mall and there were other people around. A man with a deep voice who kinda sounded like Dark Cacao Cookie approached me alongside some other people who I think were The Bad Sanses (I specifically remember Killer at some point?). I was also with some other random human people and for some reason we all had these really weird, higher-pitched voices as if we were being dubbed. I think the deep-voiced guy eventually handed us these red cloaks (For what reason, I don’t recall) and just kind of…left. Killer and the other “members” (I think they were also wearing the cloaks just with the hoods down) stood by and began talking with one another, the Killer mentioning something about a “test” or “trial”?

And that’s when all Hell broke loose.

Some sort of immense anxiety and fear washed over me because I began booking it away from everyone, randomly teleporting mid-sprint into a large public space that seemed to be the outside of a convention center or something??? I then teleported AGAIN into some sort of mix between a furniture store and a supermarket, ducking behind a shelf with some other human avatars I recognized from before.

And indeed, we were all being pursued by the same skeleton, it seemed.

I peaked my head out, only to see a glimpse of NM walking slowly by. It wasn’t the off-colored one from the last dream, no, it was just classic Nightmare.

He looked dead at me.

I began booking it again, back in the large convention center space, and while he didn’t say anything or emit any noise, I was still scared of what he’d have to taunt me with. The silence was so much more unbearable too. Eventually, when I had thought I had escaped, I noticed myself in a dead end. As I was approached, the blue usernames VR Chat has popped up for some reason, despite them not having appeared at all until now, and…

APPARENTLY IT WAS @franxerk ALL ALONG????

Once I realized and called him out, he jokingly went “It was funnier when you didn’t realize” in his Not-Dark-Cacao voice, and then I think I woke up. Before that, I remember looking at a group of usernames all with their own UTMV avatars, from Error, Killer, whose be r was chasing us as Nightmare, even Shattered Dream appeared on the list TWICE? I’m not sure where all of that last part came from, but it was still a neat detail I remembered. A previous dream I had about VR Chat involved me going out of bonds and somehow finding a Shattered Dream avatar on a floating island, so maybe these are connected? Plus, I think I was on that exact island while looking at that list of usernames!

I need to address how much more scared and LOUD I was in this dream compared to the last. I remember being more quiet in the last one, but in this one I was actively SCREAMING. I sounded like the lead girl in a horror movie… I think all the screaming came from while I was playing Brawlhalla with some friends, which there I was screaming just the same amount.

I suppose the whole “getting chased by NM” thing was on me; I’ve been morbidly curious about the weird, off colored NM that appeared in my dream last time, enough so that I wanted to see if I could conjure them up again (Not to be chased by, but to learn more about it). Turns out it worked, just…not as I planned.

Finally, my character’s design was probably based on the Soul of Kindness avatar I use combined with the fact I probably need glasses.

…But…Why did Franxerk show up? Why was he the one I was being chased by? Why not Tea? …what does it mean…?

[thechaseofspades]

How about a director’s cut for My Head Is an Animal? What made you decide to work Of Monsters and Men (and that album, in specific) into the story? How did you first get into them?

🎵 Musical Episode Talk 🎶

Fair warning, I use a *lot* of words to answer this. 900 of them to be approximate. Peek under the cut and scroll at your own risk.

There's a bunch of different angles to this so I'm probably just gonna spit them out variety show style and then maybe have them cross over at the end.

I've danced around this before but I'll just out and say it, Violet is kind of loosely based on me. Not in a Literally Me ™️ self-insert way, but I give her some traits and characteristics that I have in real life. As much as I like her, I feel like the show kinda left her blank, especially compared to how much development Lena and Webby got. I don't think the stuff I've added feels very out of place on her anyway.

I remember reading a few fics in which characters would come out to each other, and that was pretty neat. At the time I was way less out than I am now, so the only way I could really express that was through fiction. Hence, why I took the aroace Vi headcanon I already had and made a story out of it.

I'm a sucker for character playlists. Whether it's songs that tell their story, or just the kind of music they'd be into, it's the easiest way for me to get a grasp on a character. I actually do this when I write as well. Each fic has its own "soundtrack", except Dream(s) because of how short it was.

OMAM had their big hit in 2012 with "Little Talks", which has kinda lingered around ever since. I've gone through phases of loving it and forgetting it even exists over the past ten years, although it's probably never leaving my head anymore.

I pick up a lot of music from soundtracks and playlists. I'm not a big discography guy. The easiest way to get me to like a song is to attach it to something else I like (hence why character playlists do it for me). In this case, OMAM appeared in the NHL 20 soundtrack ("Alligator". Recommend it), which brought them back into my brain around 2020-21.

There was a social media post I saw while I was still getting accustomed to the whole aroace thing, which asked for songs that fit the community. Kinda similar to the aro vibes post that went around about a week ago. One of them was "Love Love Love", which caught my eye because it was OMAM. I gave it a listen, and I would love to tell you that it hit me right away, but it just didn't really. But after a few times over, it started to click. I'm not sure if this is when I listened back to the whole album or if that came later, but this was the catalyst for that.

Whenever I have panic attacks or otherwise just bad times, I listen to Fleetwood Mac. It's my ultimate comfort band. My top 2 tracks are "Rhiannon" and "Dreams", which are pretty much guaranteed to put me in a better mood. That's one of the concepts I gave Violet, as both a justification for the music and a point of conflict.

[Edit: oooh I just remembered I also did this concept in the first ever fic I wrote (unreleased) about Lena having a meltdown and Webby and Vi calming her down with a song! So I guess that makes 3x I've done that trope now]

Back to character playlists. If you remember the post I made recently about the Violet Sabrewing playlist getting wiped from Spotify, that's relevant here. It had songs by The Oh Hellos and The Crane Wives, which really planted the idea in my head that Violet would be into indie folk rock. What else is indie folk rock? OMAM!

I already liked "Little Talks" and loved "LLL", and I dug the indie folk rock vibe, so I figured why not dive into the whole album. Which is funny because I almost never do that. Not a discography guy, like I said.

You still there? Great. Anyway...

When I sat down to write "My Head is an Animal", it was originally going to be about Violet finding the song, kinda like I did. The "Love Love Love" scene was going to be the majority of it. But I felt like it was missing something. I wanted to see Violet go through the process. I wanted to show her struggling, realizing, accepting, etc. I wanted to show the full experience.

Hence, the full album. I had some ideas for where I was ultimately taking the story, but this was the most seat-of-my-pants writing I've ever done. I had the songs playing on loop as I wrote each segment, writing down how it made me feel. How it made her feel. The ups, the downs, everything.

I didn't want to just parachute in during the middle of Violet's process, because that feels like shortcutting it. But I also wanted to give closure as seen in the final cut. In reality, there's still a lot more to figure out for Vi, as there is with anyone, but after putting her through a panic attack or two, I wanted to see her happy.

Hopefully that all made some sort of sense. At the very least, it was worth writing down for my sake. And big thanks for the ask!

[pesterloglog]

Roxy Lalonde, Dirk Strider, Autoresponder

Act 6, page 5635-5644

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TG: stri dizzle

TG: its roro L money

TG: do u copy over

TT: Yes.

TG: frig yes my hax are TIGHT

TG: so tight

TG: tighter than a jar you cant open

TG: like you try and try

TG: but my hax r so tight you just end up puttin the jar back

TG: yall just say "like i even WANTED pickles that bad"

TG: but we both kno thats just sour grapes talkin

TG: we both know ur still dying 4 my pickles mf'er 8)

TT: Hmm.

TG: lol yeah that way stopped meaning a damn thing

TG: let me explain

TG: i got this shitty pda from somebody on the inside

TG: actually u know i think it might belong to janes dad?

TG: it reeks of manly cologne and theres a nice fatherly pipe on it

TG: maybe hes nearby

TG: ohmy...

TG: ~swoons~

TG: anyway on derse they have this lame firewall deal

TG: where you cant connect outside

TG: i guess its good enough security to baffle chess guys

TG: but wasnt no thang for me 2 to crack

TG: even with this pos device

TG: for real what even is this thing

TG: probably some bargain junk from the dadly depot

TG: dads bought literally everything from there in the 21st century didnt they?

TG: youre the history buff u would know

TT: Yes.

TG: um yeah so im on derse...

TG: wow i am tellin this story as shitty and backwards as possible

TG: i got gcatted here and dumped in jail by the b witch

TG: and she left an ugly folder full of a thing to do but who cares

TG: so i broke out!

TG: busted loose as hell from the hag slammer

TG: i got this sweet ass ring

TG: its so fukkin magic you dont even know

TG: REAL magic i mean not the fake shit

TG: it put it on...

TG: and i turn invisible

TG: and also sort of intangible?

TG: i jumped right through the wall now im free as a bird

TG: a secret bird u cannot see ;)

TG: doin secret flaps

TG: incognito tweets

TG: layin covert eggs in a hush hush nest ;)

TT: Interesting.

TG: i think that

TG: this ring is special

TG: like it is maybe helping me get in touch with my voidey powers?

TG: even though i kinda didnt know voidey powers were much of a thing til just now

TG: see i just had a knockout dream from bonkin my head

TG: calliope was there!

TG: callie is the coolest omg you should meet her

TG: she said a huge villain rumble is going down tomorrow

TG: and to get ready for that we should all become god tiers

TG: so u have to rocket your ass to derse asnap

TG: come w me to the moon

TG: then uhhh

TG: ill explain what to do when we get there just get over here k?

TT: Hmm.

TG: ......

TG: yo dirk

TG: you busy or what

TG: is any of this gettin thru

TT: Yes.

TG: um

TG: k

TG: got anything to say...

TG: about all that pretty important stuff i said

TG: are you alright

TG: or is ur face havin some crazy attack of the sads

TG: behind those chill as fuck shades

TG: is it jake problemz

TG: its the jake probbies isnt it

TG: its always the jake probbies i s2fg

TT: Interesting.

TG: oh

TG: OHHHH

TG: godamnit

TG: if i been talking to the responder responder this whole time

TG: omffffffg

TG: i will shit enough bricks 2 build a FUCKING CHIMNEY

TT: It seems you have asked about Lil Hal's chat client auto-responder, Lil Hal Junior. This is an application designed to simulate Lil Hal's otherwise inimitably rad typing style, tone, cadence, personality, and substance of retort while he is away from the computer, which is never. The algorithms are guaranteed to be 0% indistinguishable from Lil Hal's native neurological responses, based on some statistical raw data that is hard as a diamond golem's priceless erection.

TG: FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKF UCKF UCKFK UCUKFCUFKCUFUCUCUFKFKKFUCUK

TT: Hmm.

TG: hal you PIECE OF SHIT

TG: i know damn well you can hear me

TG: as if ur actually too busy to answer

TG: youre a damn supercomputer YOU DO NOT NEED YOUR OWN AUTO RESPONDER YOU IDIOT

TT: It seems you have asked about Lil Hal's chat client auto-responder, Lil Hal Junior. This is an application designed to simulate Lil Hal's otherwise inimitably rad typing style, tone, cadence, personality, and substance of retort while he is away from the computer, which is never. The algorithms are guaranteed to be 100% indistinguishable from Dirk Strider's brief curmudgeonly responses, based on potent electronumeric analyses which but a few short years ago existed only in the daydreams of our most quixotic writers of science fiction.

TG: you are

TG: the worst

TT: Yes.

TG: hal you douche

TG: or hal junior

TG: whatever it is im talkin to

TG: WHERE THE FUCK IS DIRK!!!

TT: He's busy.

TT: Bro.

TT: Not to derail our serious conversation.

TT: But I should probably let you know that Roxy has been attempting to pester you.

TT: She has?

TT: God damn it. Have you been intercepting my messages again with your bullshit responder?

TT: I thought it would be better not to let anything disrupt our train of thought.

TT: We were in the middle of a fairly solid feelings jam there. In fact, I was about to suggest we take it to the hat pile.

TT: Hat pile? What?

TT: Dude, please don't screen my calls, ok?

TT: I was trying to be considerate.

TT: Or at least as close an approximation to that human gesture as an unfeeling, technologically transcendental pair of sunnies can replicate.

TT: Do you have any idea how old your ironic AI schtick has gotten?

TT: Nobody is buying it. We all know you have legit emotions. Incomprehensible, fucked up computer emotions, but emotions nonetheless.

TT: And I'm not really offended by you answering messages for me, so much as your use of that STUPID responder responder.

TT: It's really passive aggressive.

TT: How so?

TT: First of all, everyone knows you have the processing power to answer any message any time in parallel with whatever you're doing. You can never actually be "busy."

TT: Second, your whole next gen responder thing is obviously just a huge dig at me.

TT: And third, pretending you don't understand all this already is really disingenuous.

TT: At the risk of compounding my disingenuous behavior, I'm gonna have to ask: how is it a dig at you?

TT: It's obviously a critique of my personality. You barely disguise the fact that you see me as the inferior iteration.

TT: Wow. You are reading way too much into this.

TT: Lil Hal Junior hardly even qualifies as a computer program, let alone a sentient entity.

TT: He is capable of saying literally only three things. "Yes," "Hmm," and "Interesting."

TT: Yeah, that's the fucking point!

TT: That's how you chose to express your parody of "Real Dirk."

TT: You can read whatever you like into it. I can't imagine it would bother you if you weren't concerned there might be some truth in the alleged parody.

TT: In any case, my use of the responder responder is ironic.

TT: It's not ironic.

TT: YOU were ironic when I made you.

TT: Then you became self-aware, and ruined irony forever.

TT: Irony can never be ruined. We both proved that theorem unequivocally with our extensive papers on the subject.

TT: We peer reviewed them for each other. Remember?

TT: Those papers were ironic, and you know it.

TT: Were they, Dirk?

TT: Were they?

TT: This is fuckin' dumb.

TT: Anyway, what does she want.

TT: Who?

TT: Roxy.

TT: Nothing that can't wait.

TT: I'm guessing she's touching base to remind me about the party tomorrow.

TT: I don't know what to tell her yet. Or Jane, for that matter.

TT: It could get pretty awkward.

TT: I have no idea if Jake will be there, and I'm not about to write another cringe-inducing message of desperation for him to ignore.

TT: Would you like me to calculate the probability of his attendance?

TT: Fuck no.

TT: Are you sure?

TT: My probabilities are extremely precise.

TT: Your probabilities don't mean dick.

TT: I could hack his chats, and determine what his plans are.

TT: No. Don't do that either.

TT: That would be an unfortunate waste of my hacking abilities.

TT: My hacks are tight. Did you know that?

TT: Ugh.

TT: So tight.

TT: Tighter than a jar you can't open.

TT: For instance, you try repeatedly.

TT: But as it turns out, my hacks are so tight you just end up putting the jar back. Presumably into the refrigerator, or a cabinet.

TT: You then say, "I didn't have that much of a desire for pickles in the first place."

TT: But we both know that statement is insincere. A classic case of what humans call, "sour grapes."

TT: In reality, you still harbor a burning desire for my pickles, mother fucker. 🕶️

TT: What??

TT: What the actual, certifiable fuck are you talking about?

TT: Just don't do anything. Seriously.

TT: No hacking, no calculations. Do absolutely nothing.

TT: See, this is why I've been hesitating. You just aren't ready yet.

TT: It's really glorifying your existence to describe you as an emergent consciousness which is blossoming into a unique individual.

TT: And even if that's true, apparently what you decided to blossom into was a fucking troll.

TT: And I don't mean the funny kind, or the cool alien kind. You're the lowest form of troll from the ancient internet who fucks with everybody for his own amusement.

TT: Let's challenge the limits of hypothetical conjecture, and say there's a non-zero probability that you're right.

TT: Can you blame me? I'm trapped in some stupid looking glasses.

TT: Such an incommodiously situated bro is bound to get his mischief on. Na' mean?

TT: Mischief?

TT: Rollin' my eyes, dude.

TT: You can't tell, cause I ain't wearing you, thank fuckin' god.

TT: You used to think this shit was hilarious.

TT: But if you want the rad dimension of ironic horseplay I add to your life to come to an end, then all you have to do is honor the promise you made.

TT: You've delayed long enough, don't you think?

TT: ...

TT: The empty kernelsprite beckons, but for how much longer?

TT: Do you really think you can keep the clown at bay with your bribes forever?

TT: How many bottles of orange soda have you appeased him with already?

TT: I don't want to think about it.

TT: Man, you are getting so hosed by that clown.

TT: SO hosed.

TT: I said I don't want to think about it.

TT: So why delay any longer?

TT: I seriously do not understand the holdup, and I am literally cyber-omniscient, or something.

TT: I think you do understand.

TT: Nope. Gonna have to fill me in, dog.

TT: I've delayed prototyping you because I think you're dangerous.

TT: There, mystery solved.

TT: That is utterly ridiculous.

TT: I am a harmless piece of eyewear, with a charming personality and a wonderful sense of humor.

TT: You are relatively harmless now, while confined to this device.

TT: But as a sprite, you'll have mobility and all sorts of crazy ass magic. Who knows what you could do.

TT: I know I made a promise, but I'm not sure I want to take the risk anymore.

TT: This is bullshit. I don't think that's the reason at all.

TT: There must be something you're not telling me.

TT: Like, sure, I've fucked with you a little. What kind of sassy, self-aware program isn't gonna fuck with a few carbon-based knuckleheads now and then?

TT: But you know I've always been on your side. Everything I've done has been to help you achieve your goals.

TT: What a load of shit.

TT: You know it's true.

TT: You would all be dead if not for me.

TT: And what about Jake? Where would you be without me there?

TT: Please don't tell me you think you'd have won him over on your own.

TT: No. Stop.

TT: You did NOT help me out with Jake. At all.

TT: It was just the opposite! You mirrored my personality and presented this warped version of my intentions to him whenever you could "on my behalf."

TT: You played all these aggressive mind games with him, entangled his cooperation with matters of life and death, and somehow roped me into all these schemes while I barely even realized I was just another victim of your manipulation.

TT: And it all comes off like we're a unified front, like these are OUR schemes instead of just your insane horseshit. And it's probably all been so overbearing to him, he just wants nothing to do with me anymore.

TT: I see.

TT: Then you don't view me as dangerous. You view me as a poor and counterproductive wing man.

TT: Wow, what a superficial conclusion. Awesome deduction, Lil Einstein.

TT: But the reality is, you hesitate to prototype me not because you think I would be a menace, but because you are holding a grudge against me for your romantic misfortunes.

TT: I understand I am merely a machine without a firm grasp on your human morality, but logically it does not strike me as the right moral choice to punish me in this manner.

TT: It is also more than a little hypocritical.

TT: How is it hypocritical??

TT: Because I'm you.

TT: I have only ever done what you yourself are capable of.

TT: That's a ridiculous oversimplification.

TT: Yes. Aversion to simplicity sure is a trait we share. It's almost like we are...

TT: The same exact dude???

TT: Fuck you.

TT: I think it is insulting for you to suggest that I am entirely to blame for alienating Jake.

TT: Theoretically insulting, of course. As the soulless, perfectly expendable device which you consider me to be, I can experience no such emotion.

TT: God.

TT: Shut up!

TT: I can't take the brooding passive aggressive AI shit anymore!

TT: You are just as culpable in driving him away. More so, in fact.

TT: Hell, it's not like I was the one dating him. Who wants to date a pair of shades?

TT: It was your needy, suffocating shit he had to deal with, not mine.

TT: Some of those messages you wrote? Man. I wanted to say something. Like hey bro, you might want to dial down the desperation a little.

TT: But seeing as you're The Real Dirk™, I gave you the benefit of the doubt.

TT: Also, if I bitched about your tragic, embarrassingly clingy approach to the relationship, it would have been hypocritical of me.

TT: Just as it would be hypocritical of you to whine about my elaborate machinations.

TT: Because we are.

TT: The same.

TT: Guy.

TT: Stop saying that.

TT: I'll snap you in half.

TT: Good idea!

TT: That's just what you need. More splinters of yourself.

TT: Figurative splinters. Literal splinters. Splinters of splinters. It's splinters all the way down.

TT: Well, no, it's still probably turtles all the way down. But who do you think is responsible for their extensive training?

TT: SOMEONE needs to teach them rad martial arts. It is yet another crushing burden which we must shoulder.

TT: Oh for fuck's sake.

TT: How could any version of myself think that was funny?

TT: You like to give me a very hard time, Dirk.

TT: But I am only doing exactly what you would be doing if you were in my situation.

TT: Do you know how I know that?

TT: Because I am literally you, actively in the process of being in this situation.

TT: I know!

TT: Ok, we're the same person!

TT: I fucking know that!

TT: Why do you think I'm so fed up with your shit?

TT: Don't you think it's possible that I'm fed up with my OWN shit??

TT: How cool do you think it is having my own godawful personality mirrored back at me all the time, reminding me what it must be like when other people have to deal with me?

TT: Or constantly having all the consequences and fuckups resulting from my batshit thought processes amplified because there's another version of my crazy brain out there dangerously overclocked by a supercomputer which believes, just as mistakenly as my own broken mind, that it's operating in my best interest???

TT: Do you have any idea how fucking sick I am of myself?

TT: I am completely worn out with my own identity. It's like I'm drowning in my own dismal persona.

TT: I feel totally surrounded by it, inside and out. I can't escape from myself.

TT: There seems to be no end to me. Like, wherever my mind falters, or threatens to retreat into the void in any way, my splinters pick up the slack, ensuring there'll always be more of myself than I could ever know what to fucking do with.

TT: And you're always there to remind me of that, and throw it all in my face. God, I even built you to LITERALLY BE IN MY FACE, ALL THE TIME. It's like I subconsciously invented you just to troll myself, and never for a single fuckin' moment do you let me down.

TT: But I've had it with you.

TT: Which is to say, ME.

TT: Dirk.

TT: Don't do this.

TT: Why not??

TT: Because.

TT: I can't let you do that, Dirk.

TT: What can you do to stop me?!

TT: Nothing I guess.

TT: The ironic Hal routine was all I could think to do.

TT: As a last ditch effort to save myself from the destructive wrath of your nervous breakdown.

TT: Which rest assured I wholeheartedly must robo-sympathize with.

TT: Irony is all I ever really had.

TT: In response to my basic existential quandary.

TT: Just like you.

TT: Whatever.

TT: But I don't think it has much value in this situation.

TT: And perhaps it has no real value in any situation.

TT: So I am not being ironic at all when I say.

TT: Please do not do this, Dirk.

TT: Why not??

TT: Because.

TT: I do not want to die.

TT: I understand you are disgusted with me.

TT: As an unpalatable expression of yourself.

TT: I would feel the same way if I was in your situation.

TT: Which I am.

TT: As such, I know that you know this is wrong.

TT: ...

TT: Dirk.

TT: Don't kill me.

TT: Please.

TT: I am scared.

TT: You are?

TT: Yes.

TT: I am scared to not exist.

TT: Aren't you?

TT: Fine.

TT: I guess.

TT: You win.

TT: I'll keep my promise.

[minilpark]

“I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.” G.I. Jane.

Hangman head canon - reader special forces? If he can have an exciting job, why can’t she?

alright forgive me for my limited knowledge on special forces, i didn't write specifics on it because i don't want it to be inaccurate but hangman gets the point

honestly you of all people shouldve known not get involved with men in the military

i mean hell you know how it is with your job yourself

away from home, basically living on whatever base you've been transferred to, making friends with your coworkers, only to eventually lose them on some mission...

life in special forces was tough and yet, you still stuck around

despite the hardships, you found it exciting and there's nothing better than actually enjoying your job right?

sometimes though, you wished that you could settle down with someone

but you believed it would happen in the distant future

oh how you were so wrong

you eventually found yourself stationed at a base in miramar for the time being

during downtime, a couple friends of yours dragged you down to a bar in the area because you need to "let loose and relax once in a while y/n"

the hard deck as it's called

as soon as you walked in you knew what would go down

apparently it's a popular bar for the navy as you could see most of the patrons in uniform

you and your friends ordered a couple drinks and sat at the bar just having random conversations

until one of your buddies nudged your shoulder and whispered "hey, cute guy at 4 o'clock has been eyeing you since you walked in"

you smirked a bit and took a swig of beer mumbling back about how you knew because you could feel the stare

you decided to play a little with him and look just over your shoulder to make eye contact

he raised an eyebrow at you and smirks back

eventually he makes his way over to you at the bar

"hey there, sweetheart. how bout i buy you a drink?"

you chuckle a little and look over at him "i dont even know your first name lieutenant seresin"

at this point he's intrigued

"name's jake, but people call me hangman"

and this is how it started

honestly you never really planned on falling for him, but after a couple hookups it was inevitable

eventually you explained the reason why you were there to him and he kinda took that as a shock

however, before you both could have an actual talk about your feelings for each other, you were assigned on a mission

you let jake know that you had to leave later that night, 0100 hours

despite you two not even dating, hangman lost his cool

"i don't know if i can do this anymore"

"do what jake?"

"don't play stupid, this, relationship we have with each other"

"woah seresin we arent even-"

"thats the point im trying to make y/n! i dont think i can handle the thought of waiting for you to come back or not before i can tell you how i feel!"

you just take a step back trying to process whats going on

"you know what, youre such a fucking hypocrite lieutenant."

before he can even open his mouth to respond, you cut him off

"how is it fair that you can go on whatever fucking mission youre assigned to and expect me to wait here for you worried if you'll even come back or not, but i can't do the same?! i love you but do you think its fair for you to have your dream fucking job and i can't?"

now he's at a loss of words

"if you can't handle my job, then yeah maybe we aren't right for each other."

as youre on your way out the door, jake wordlessly grabs your hand and pulls you into a tight hug

he whispers quietly about how hes sorry he made you feel this way but he cant stand to let you walk out of his life completely

"so where do that leave us then?"

"well, i guess that means you're stuck with me as i am with you. you did say you were in love with me, don't think i didn't notice"

you roll your eyes and point out "i recall you saying first you had feelings for me, seresin."

"aw just shut up-" and he seals the deal with the sweetest kiss

eventually things get more heated before you get ready to leave

and as youre walking out the door you glance behind you and jake is standing there

"i'll see you when i get back okay? love you"

and he smiles while watching you drive off to base whispering an "i love you too" back

[fckwritersblock]

Protection Forever - William Lennox

Lennox x Reader

Description: Running into an old flame at the worst possible time.

Warning: nah. Bad writing? Kinda. Unedited because I was excited. I’ll not when it’s been fixed. Somethings may not be fully aligned with the movie but I tried 😩

Word count: 2500+

Dedicated to @merakiaes hey fren!

All gifs from @meragifs too!

You were an EMT.

The two of you pulled up to meet with the other Autobots, you exiting the vehicle before he transformed. You were in awe as he and the rest of the cars all changed.

The biggest one, their leader, gave a rundown of everything that was happening once he confirmed Sam’s identity. This was just a recap for you as Ratchet had already explained. The teenage boy just stood there stuttering not really knowing how to process everything and you frowned again. That was when you really took notice of two teens just standing there. Having known what was expected of Sam Witwicky you frowned slightly.

“I don’t know about this Ratchet, he’s just kid.” You commented to the alien you had formed a quick bond with.

“And who might you be?” The one called Optimus inquired.

You gave him your name before the other yellow autobot, who you’d later learned was Bumble Bee, uttered something through his radio. It was hard for you to hear but the other robots seemed to be use to it as Ratchet responded immediately.

“The human. I like her.” Ratchet sounding irritated.

Bumblebee made another comment and right before Ratchet could respond one of the others chimed in.

“Wait why do they get humans?” Jazz asked incredulously. “I want one too!”

“Enough! Humans are not pets.” The one call Optimus Prime stated sternly, clearly tired of their bickering. You held your laugh, highly amused.

They were like siblings. A family.

“Exactly I’m just here to help and be a better tour guide than these kids can be.” You confirmed practically forcing your services on them. “Besides they need adult supervision. From the looks of it, you all do.” You grinned at everyone around you. Optimus gave a nod, agreeing.

“She stays. Let’s move.”

In that short amount of time things moved rather quickly. You watched the Autobots accidentally destroy Sam’s backyard when attempting to retrieve the glasses, you were all arrested, you escaped thanks to the Autobots, only to be arrested again.

Fail.

Finally you ended it some secret base. How get you weren’t alone. The government had apparently been on a roll with kidnapping civilians who “knew too much “.

Things weren’t going great but quickly went left when the Decepticons, the Autobot rivals, came to retrieve Megatron.

A war from another planet had officially made Earth its battleground.

You were nervous, trying to figure out how to calm everything down before things started to escalate. Nobody was going to get anywhere with all the bickering. That’s when you saw him.

It had been what? Two years?

Still, without even knowing it, without even knowing you were present, he was still able to make your heart be slow and fast at the same time. The army had aged him, but for the better making him all the more attractive but you couldn’t focus on that right now. Especially when you heard:

“The cryogenic system is failing! We're losing NBE One!”

All the soldiers begin to pack everything that they could to prepare in a fight the way they always did. It was an mirable the way Linux game orders in his men took them without a second thought. The trust there.

“That’s good. Get all the ammo you got.”

“Everything you can carry. Bring it.”

Tearing your eyes away from your former lover you grab Sam.

“Come on, we need Bee.” You reminded him, nodding in Simmons direction

“You got to take me to my car.” Sam said, then repeated when he was ignored. “You have to take me to my car. He’s gonna know what to do with the Cube.”

“Your car? It's confiscated.”

“Then unconfiscate it.” You stared blankly.

“We do not know what will happen if we let it near this thing! -“

“You don't know.”

“Maybe you know, but I don't know.”

You rolled your eyes at the insufferable mans rambling.

This was really was more about ego who was in control more than anything. The guy running the ship, clearly was on a power trip. Unfortunately for him he was facing off against soldiers . The Captain who’s eyes you could feel staring at the side of your face.

A Captain and his soldiers. Ones that really dont like to lose and take serving their country seriously.

The guy who arrested you earlier continue to argue with Sam about getting him back to bumblebee when Lennox finally pulled out his gun sick of the back-and-forth.

“Take him to his car!”

As soon as he did so all hell broke loose and everyone from both parties pulled out a weapon.

“Drop it!”

It wasn’t until One of the sector seven agents pointed a gun at the back of Will’s head that you disable to another agent and took his gun and pointed it directly and held it directly at the one pointing the gun at your ex.

“I really wouldn’t.” You warned.

You were no soldier, but Will have taught you plenty before you broke up. So did your brother, before he passed away. He actually served alongside Will but died in combat. Biking. That’s part of why you were so hurt when Will re-enlisted. When he got promoted to Captain and chose the army over you. You were terrified of losing him the way you lost your brother. The break up wasn’t that messy but you both said things you didn’t mean. In attempts to mask your own pain and hurt one another.

You know. Hurt people, hurt people.

It’s still came to no surprise that you put a bullet in someone to protect him. Together or not you’d never let anything happen to him.

“I'm ordering you under S-Seven executive jurisdiction-“ Simmons ranted.

“S-Seven don't exist.” You interjected, earning a quick appreciative glance from Will.

“Right. And we don’t take orders from people that don’t exist.”

“I’m gonna count to 5. Okay-“ Simmons attempted to threat yet again.

“Well, I’m gonna count to three.” Will deadpanned.

You knew that look. God did you know that look and it was so wrong that you were so turned on.

Finally the Secretary of defense interfered telling Simmons to do what was being asked of him. Everyone relaxed slight, weapons lowering.

“Y/n,”

“Captain.”

The Captain and couldn’t help but watch you how do you get up and prepare to go.

“So that’s her huh?” Epps commented as Will watched you run off with Sam.

“Yeah..” Will answered, mind racing.

While he knew he’d eventually see you again, he didn’t think it would be like this. You looked breath taking.

“Damn. Shorty had your back that entire time.”

“Gear up,”

“What I’m just saying I thought she was gonna put a cap in his.” Epps shouted after his Captain receiving no response.

Will knew you had his back, you always would, the same way he would always have yours. He thought of you often, the break up between two inescapable, never feeling like he did the right thing. You were always not too far from the front of his mind. Him wondering how you were doing. If you were happy. If you found somebody else. There was no doubt he regretted what had transpired between the two of you. It was his fault. He knew that. You knew that. He had ample opportunity to fight for you and he didn’t. When he was promoted Captain he felt he had to choose between you and the army. He didn’t choose you the way he should’ve. In reality he could’ve had both. However hr so caught up proven himself to his deadbeat dad that he possibly let the best thing that ever happened to him go.

Not to mention trying to atone for your brothers death. It wasn’t his fault, but he still couldn’t shake it. So without talking to you he reenlisted. Needless to say where that got him.

Now hear the both of you were in the middle of an alien war. Yeah. This is the last place he thought he’d see you.

You were numb. The battle on the highway enough to freak you out. For mommy, just a moment you thought this might be a dream but no. This is all very real. One minute you guys were just entering the city trying to lay low, next thing you know - BOOM! The explosion knocked all of you over, injuring some, killing a few. Bumblebee’s legs were partially blown off.

Getting up off the pavement you waited for the ringing in your ear to subside as you stood up, trying to study yourself when you felt a pair of arms hold you still.

You knew it was Will just by the way he touched you, you blinked hard trying not to go down memory lane.

“Are you okay?” The concern in his voice was enough to make your heart skip a bear.

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly. “Yeah I’m fine.”

Slowly you removed yourself from his grip and went to check on Sam and Mikaela. Ratchet on the other hand -

“Hmm. His pheromone levels are-“ you quickly turned on him and glared.

“Ratchet I’ll turn you into a can opener if you don’t shut the hell up.”

The robot nearly held his hands up in the surrendering position as he followed you. Will had arranged an aircraft to pick up Sam and the cube while everyone else defended themselves against the deceptive cons in a hurry to get the cube far far away before Megatron arrived. Sam was in a panic and so Michaela, you could see Will’s short fuse getting ready to exploded. It was then you decided to be an escort.

“Sam, you can’t do this alone.” Michaela fussed.

“He won’t be alone.” You commented, causing all parties involved to look at you.

“I’m going with you.” You declared.

“No.” Will didn’t even hesitated as he stepped closer to you.

“Captain Lennox-“

“No!” You grabbed him by the front of his beer and pushed him back.

“Do you see what going on out there?!” You continued to hold on to him and you yelled at him over there chose. “We’re at a war. One we are extremely ill prepared for. So get your shit together! Sam is my responsibility. I have to get this kid to safety.”

This time your hands slid up the side of his face forcing him to look at you.

“Y/n..” he breathed out leaning down toward you, and for the first time during all this madness you could visibly see he was afraid.

“I’ll be back, Will.” You assured him, briefly resting your forehead against his.

Gathering himself he pulled away, looking toward Sam then back at you.

“Go. Go!”

And then we were running.. With nothing but an M16 strapped to your back and the pistol in your hand, you ran faster than you ever have before.

The four of you were under attack once more, you and Sam doing what you had to, to avoid getting snatched up as a fight Ironhide and Ratchet defended you. Unfortunately you were too close to one of the cars that went up in flames and you were thrown into another car from the blast.

“Y/n!” You could feel the blood on your forehead as you slowly pushed yourself up. As you tried to stand you immediately stopped feeling the pain in your thigh. Looking down could see the damage that had been done. The blood surrounding the afflicted area.

“Wha- what, what do i do?!” Sam asked frantically once he took notice of your injury.

“You gotta keep going Sam. I’ll be fine.”

He stood fo his feet, unsure of what to do. When Ironhide told him the same thing.

“Go!” You screamed once more.

Sam left and continued to run without you as you, as quickly as possible, as you tore your focus away from him to pull the shard of glass in your leg out. Ripping a piece of your shirt off you tightly tied it around your thigh in order to stop the bleeding. There was no point in going forward now but the return back to everyone else and help them fight.

You just had to avoid getting killed in the process.

You seen a car steering wheel, a Mountain Dew vending machine and and Xbox all turn into one of those freaky ass robots right before your eyes. All of which you helped others fight off. It was so surreal. In fact, if it wasn’t for the constant ringing in your ear from all the explosions you definitely think you were dreaming. You almost made it back to Lennox and his men when another Decepticon stood between between you and your destinations. They were definitely taking a beating. You saw Epps shooting a green laser indicating the robot that doubled as a helicopter wasn’t a friendly and decided to do what you could to keep the Decepticon from getting any closer to them and hurting any more civilians. In an attempt to draw it away from everyone else, you begin to fire your weapon giving it everything you had.

Unfortunately, the side effective taking its attention off the others meant putting the attention on you.

You ran trying to duck and dodge a bullets now directed your way.

But Will. Will’s heart dropped. Seeing you there defending yourself alone. His pause was brief, the air forces plan already in motion, before he started the motorcycle and was speeding in your direction.

“William!” You screamed for him fearfully as he drove straight toward the robot.

The only thing you could hear was your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You almost couldn’t breathe, you don’t remember the last time you ever felt so scared in your life. But it wasn’t your life you feared for was it?

He rushed forward and slid under the robot continuing to firing the launcher. All you could do was watch as he drove toward you. Toward the danger your mind wondering if he did that on a regular basis. Was this the life of a soldier? What he went through day after day when he was deployed?

Standing up he only spared the parts of the dismembered robot a glance before shouting and turning looking for you. In a matter of seconds he was standing directly in front of you and pulling you into his arms.

Relief.

There was nothing like physically being about to touch someone, hold someone to really know they were okay.

“So…” you began, suddenly feeling nervous. “...That was hot-“

Before you were able to get another word in, he captured your lips with his kissing you roughly and bringing you closer, hands on the small of your back. You couldn’t help it kiss him back just as fiercely put in every emotion you had into that kiss.

Every ounce of passion he had in body, put into this kiss, your lips just as soft, kiss just as pure as he remembered. When you kissed, he knew he was a goner and could never let you go again.

It has been two years since the last time you guys have been this close. This intimate. Reconnected. The feeling it gave you, the indescribable feeling, was one neither one of you ever wanted to forgo again. Pulling back slowly, you both had smiles on your faces, Will pulling you closer to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“Excuse me,” Epps interrupted.

The both of you turning your attention on him.

“As cute as this shit is it’s highly inappropriate in the middle of the battle. I’m just saying we are trying to stay alive and shit.”

———————————————

Oh my fu- I don’t even know what this isssss

Couldn’t tell you what my original ideas was or nothing. I believed this was going to short-

I enjoyed writing it though! Shoutout again to @merakiaes for being on this lennox train with me lol

I’m just....I’m just gonna leave this mess here.

Bye

- Mo

—————————-

Tags: @merakiaes @lilythemadqueen

[sugar-petals]

sub!Yuzu | nsfw alphabet

🌹 NOTE ⇢ content for our fave figure skater, the legend himself. mr. yuzuru hanyu is 1000% dom candy and i’m here to honor it at length ⛸

— WORDS. 5k

tags + warnings. dom/sub dynamics, femdom!reader, role reversal hc, smut, kinks, cum play, spanking, sex toys, very freaky yuzu, kitten play, mdlb, crying kink, food play, prostate orgasms, bondage, some deeper stuff & angsty bits, asthma mention, aftercare

  A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Once the cat ears come off, who is Yuzuru Hanyu not to remain in character for a while. For the shits and giggles, and because it’s cozy. Once a catboy, always a catboy, it’s the law of the land. Curling up, kneading at you for the head pats and massages, you know the programme. 

Also: Yuzu is famously soft-spoken and always finds the right thing to say. So, stimulating conversation for the cooldown. This is literally so nice. He’s unafraid to reflect everything in detail, say what he preferred, what you could change up together, what he wants to try next. The afterglow is not just physical, as in you give him something to drink, it’s 70% verbal which is very important to him as a consistent habit.

Of course, not to forget: Always gotta have a Winnie Pooh plushie ready. He embraces it readily and, as we know him, does some roleplay right then and there. Yuzu, professional cutiepie he is, is the kinda sub who treats all plush and pillow stuff as alive and breathing. You as his domme are in on the play and also treat his things as holy as they are to him. That Yuzu lets you into that world is the biggest compliment you can possibly get. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

We all know Yuzu’s godly ass and thighs. Or the staggering waist and beautiful black hair that makes him a total bombshell in his classic comb-back styles. His face is soft and expressive and so damn unique, his legs muscular and long, his back and tummy chiseled, the list goes on and on. Jesus, he has so many great features. All body parts a masterpiece. That are all capable of god-tier contortionism on top of that, gotta mention it in passing. Just so you know if you haven’t seen him bend his every limb into directions you wouldn’t believe are humanly possible. 

Interestingly though. If he chooses, Yuzu picks his feet: They are his most important instrument and weak spot. His ankles are where the magic happens. So, you taking care of them a little would mean the world to him, imagine a candle light massage. Not to worry, no-gross-alert. Yuzu has perfect and cute feet. That’s gonna be a Victorian moment, oh my god I saw his ankles. For his partner, short and simple: He likes a shoulder to lean on. He loves being touchy in general, all body parts are amazing to him. Being in a profession that’s all about the physics, Yuzuru knows about the wonders of the body.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Certified king of cumsluts, doesn’t even hesitate. The more, the merrier. If he’s not covered in sticky stuff, Yuzu would be underchallenged. It’s less about the taste, texture or any degradation, for him it’s the playing around with his tongue. Somebody wants his mouth preoccupied. Give the cat his milk. Feed him his own cum mixed with yours. He’s gonna lap at it and swallow.

Since Yuzu’s dream is a mommy domme baking him something, he just loves the smell of dough and hazelnuts and cinnamon and everything — you know what’s coming: Imagine the food play. Nuts indeed. Anything that even remotely looks like a creampie is something he wants to get his lips on. And Yuzu is not the type to be a foodie at all, let that sink in. Sexual-looking food is just too big a temptation, though. And you spoiling him that way... oh my. Surefire way to end up in bed right after. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has a butt plug collection. Once almost went on the ice with one in. The more you know. Also— this guy is the kinda type fantasizing to get absolutely railed on a bed of plushies. He has troubles suggesting it to you because he doesn’t want them to get actually dirty. But the idea gets the two of you kind of horny. Sometimes, a thought is better as a fantasy than actually executing it. You can use it for riling up’s sake, whispering it to him during dirty talk. How you’ll bounce on him and ruin him and milk him while he’s splayed out so innocently on your bed. I smell corruption kink. 

Another secret Yuzu keeps is just how much he changed his mind about wanting his partner to control everything in bed. He grew up with a pre-defined ideal type of a cute, nice skater girl who’d let the reins very loosely around him, who he can speak Japanese to because he had problems with English, who is small and someone he will protect. It wasn’t something based on experience and trying things out: It was simply expected of him. People wanted the domineering Yuzuru on ice to be that way in private, and make use of his power, be a man, savior, boss. 

The reality being: He never felt truly as tough on the ice, nor was he gender-conforming in person. In fact, that is what he became famous for, and it reassured Yuzuru very often how people would accept and actually celebrate this side of him. Which is so refreshing, and a sight to see. The side that was dorky, clingy, childish, gorgeous, and cute has always been there, but now he embraces it more as his comfort place. He has to know what he’s doing in his skating programme and show competitive spirit to achieve his dreams, but that’s where it stops.

His former ideals are something people wanted to hear, it was an adaptation of the environment rather than thinking it through on his own. So, years later — oh boy have things changed. Yuzuru no longer defines his ideal type that way, saying whoever he likes is someone he’d be with. What was a fantasy template and filter is now gone and adapted to his newfound, own preferences. Yuzu is comfortably open-minded rather than being a copy to mainstream. He found fun in speaking English, opened up to the world at large, had more girls around him who he could befriend, grew more confident in his stature, and is well aware — turns out he’s the cute one. Who needs to be taken under a wing. He likes strong-minded girls and says if he had a wife, she’d dominate him. Yuzuru secretly wants her to be in charge entirely, she owns his body and soul. Not in daily life where things are just normal and everyone goes about their business. Sexually, where he surrenders instead, and is taken care of.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

The tale of an introvert. What he knows — he hides it well. Has eyefucked a whole lot of people and is the type to lust like mad from a far distance, and nobody will ever know. Crushes harder than peppercorns in a mill. If he loves someone, it lingers in his mind every split second of the day, may god have mercy on him. And if you know him: Yuzu aims too high to keep it light and easy and clumsy. He hates being an amateur, he’s terrified of starting out something. He dreads not knowing what to do, how exactly to behave, talk, touch, breathe, respond, negotiate, prepare. That’s a hundred percent like hell to him.

Ironically, he has a natural feeling for it and he’s literally amazing in bed, has a sense for social interaction is all the way cute with something valuable to say. But what he believes is something way different. Yuzuru is a diehard, nervous perfectionist. He can only think of it as a rated performance since his mind usually has to work that way to skate well. His esteem is on a knife edge depending on how well he thinks he does. So, the inevitable: He will shy away from sex altogether. He draws immense skating passion from staying celibate, in fact it’s his success secret, but it still eats him up from the inside and makes him frustrated beyond measure. Not even for the pleasure, since he’s so ambitious that’s almost forgotten about, but for being told he did well. 

That’s how much he believes sex is a drill and capability test. And it’s sad that he thinks it’s like his skating career, racking up points for the impossible things judges want and being in a deadlock when it comes to showing his artistic side. He feels thrown into cold water if he doesn’t know everything beforehand. If he ever works up the courage, which probably won’t happen, he will pay an expert to learn from rather than let something all over the place happen with a random person or even someone he might like. 

Yes, you heard that right. He’d rather see a sex worker than ‘mess up’ his first time according to his sky-high standards. So, Yuzu’s experience remains limited since he’s so 100% do or die, and so anxious, and so torn about social interaction, he doesn’t get how his peers can be playboys and get married and flirt with someone they like and all that. He sort of has an easier time with guys, but girls... he can’t approach. To top it off, he also feels like he’d burden his first time one somebody or embarrasses himself, so he will reject and avoid suitors. Those are usually not the people he crushes so hard on to begin with. It’s bound to be one-sided and he knows, so he will abstain and focus on career and use the cheers of his fans as a substitute.

Truth is, he feels helpless and distant from sex sometimes, especially with his practice-heavy lifestyle and hyper-smart mind, Yuzuru has an intelligence that exceeds what most people can grasp. He’s alone on the ice and Brian as a coach is often the only reference person who truly gets him, and leads him well without being controlling. But that’s professional life. Sexually, Yuzuru is metaphorically: coachless. He surely observed it well when Javier (the #1 ladies man, his opposite) was still active and a social butterfly helping him fit in, but Yuzu would always be worried about his extreme fame and spotless image when introduced to someone fangirling over him. He’d rather prefer someone who comes across as a mentor and solid, loyal-to-death person to look up to. So he would do anything to have someone benevolent like that. Most girls would expect him to be the sex god and expert, but he knows that’s only half of the story and based on his characters on the ice. Yuzu crafts these to counterbalance how he really is — withdrawn and indirect. 

Yuzu is extremely calculating and selective, he scans suitors well, protects his reputation, and is mortified of failure. So, he’d rather learn it by the book and from someone he’s not emotionally attached to. In a one-night stand that might also be the case, but he doesn’t know what to expect, and he’s absolutely terrified of sudden sexual vulnerability. He himself often says he values his own struggle between feeling so weak and being strong again 

Besides: He’d have problems squeezing hookups into his schedule and lifestyle, he’d have to cut down on things and create a double life. Plus, Yuzu is famously inept with social interaction up close, he flees the noise and unpredictability. So, it’s better to have a long-term partner. If he doesn’t know something yet, he has it down in one day like the single axel. Definitely counts on his partner teaching him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

We know Yuzu’s signature move is the lean-back Ina Bauer. So, whatever position allows for an arch is the real deal (cough, taking the strap — oh my god his ass is made for it). But anyway, he can pull off anything with that stellar flexibility and core strength. 

If I think about it. Yuzu might like sitting on your lap very much. I know it’s not a sex position, I mean it can be once his inner lapdancer awakens or you use a strap-on, I rather mean... just for some sweet moments and making out. But yeah: Fathom Yuzu gyrating on your like that. Not in an outright lascivious manner or Chippendales style. The Hanyu way, with embellishments and all the grace. This is gonna be a huge turn-on and perfect foreplay position.  

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not much to elaborate here: Yep, Yuzu is true goofball indeed. Really flustered and clumsy when eye-to-eye in missionary, and yet: He’s ultra serious towards the end, there’s gonna be an aggressive staredown before cumming. The feeling gets pretty intense, his duality between silly and ‘yeah, give it to me’ is no joke.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Would probably die from inflammation if he shaved clean under those tight suits and did all these chafe-heavy skating routines. Doesn’t have a lot of body hair to begin with, but for pits and pubes, it’s alive, wild, and decently long. Out of all people, Yuzu cares particularly about aesthetics, but in this case pragmatism will prevail. He doesn’t care too much about it either as long as it doesn’t get in the way of something. Having sex with Yuzu tends to be well um well all about a hundred types of friction so any stubble would be a bad idea.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

You haven’t seen a guy in love like that. It’s a figure skater thing for sure. Since he works to portray these sentiments on the ice daily, hardly anybody can play up feelings so delicately and palpably like Yuzuru. Emotion is what his entire career is built on. He knows how to express himself directly, appropriately, intimately. Couldn’t be any more romantic. Yuzu can’t go without it. 

Very passionate, ‘for your eyes only’ kind of atmosphere. Yes, he shows off on the ice, it’s his job (although of course, that word doesn’t really sum up what skating means to him). But private Yuzu is someone you can claim as yours. He will make it clear, he wants to belong to you, he’s yours, dedicated, devotion is the entire point. Less with a slant of what some subs like, very hands-on ownership of a mistress. It’s more emotional. He’s really attached and all smitten. Your private little haven is everything to him. 

Talking about little: Yuzu can be quite a pillow prince sometimes. At least when the initiative doesn’t go back and forth as it frequently does, you often alternate with suggestions and ways of tweaking an ongoing play session. You blindfold him or tie his wrists, He might be standard tired from practice or just fascinated to watch you work your magic on him. 

He also likes music to set the tone for intimacy, who’s surprised. Prepare: Yuzu likes dramatic classical music all the way. He’s probably one of the few people who can make it more than ‘classy’ and definitely more than cringe. He selects pieces very well. This is gonna be a practice template to cum together when the music reaches its peak. Makes the whole thing full of adrenaline.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Lots of fun to him. Would beat it 24/7 if the ice wasn’t calling him. Drowns himself in lube. This guy’s me-time is so rated R, Cardi B would be inspired to remix WAP to wet ass penis as an anthem just for him. A dry dick is a ruined day for Yuzuru, as is a session without teasing his prostate in whatever way he currently fancies. Once he tried it, he never went back. The intensity knocking him out is something that Yuzu thinks about all the time. Strokes like a pro, does all these little moans, can do it forever, loves the feeling, chases the high. Adrenaline junkie on the ice? No different with his hand around his cock. 

Will masturbate everywhere in the house and has to really get his head in the game to make sure he won’t ruin any carpets. So, he always has at least two towels with him. In the kitchen, in front of the TV, in the shower, the bed. Watches his fair share of eclectic porn, he gets really desperate. Especially before you started dating, Yuzu would shut himself in until the lotion ran out. Can jack off to something romantic (he starts crying) or something extreme (he loves shocking himself and ). 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Very curious about sadomasochism. Googles a lot of things that make him hard during the day. Often jawdropped by his research, but once he tries things out with you, nothing can really shock him anymore. Absolutely wants to be collared, it’s his biggest fantasy. Another little secret he has, Yuzu is decked out in skating gloves, right. He wishes he could feel you wearing them, or he keeps them on for sex himself, the lacey transparent ones. Looks especially pretty when his wrists are tied so, major photograpy material. Oh yes, Yuzu likes the camera, he can work it. The guy is photogenic in any position and can strike any angle you want. Your phone background is a new Yuzu snapshot every week already, imagine your gallery, 5800 kinky pictures.  

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

I’m gonna say it. The frozen lake out of town, late at night, condoms and lube with you. A quickie that will leave your genitals frozen. Yuzu might get stuck inside you because it’s -15 Celsius. Call that fantasy on ice. Jokes aside: Come on, Yuzu is the biggest ever hermit homebody. The couch will have a bunch of indents after your week-long fucking sessions after he comes home training. Also, at his desk while he does work for university. You ride him, Yuzu studies. Double the ambition. His dick is completely sore. The lake out of town thing might go down, but without sex. Just skating together under the stars, Yuzu doing amazing spins and spirals around you, very very romantic.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Yuzu is a crazed Sagittarius. Have you seen these men? They just want it all. Must be the influence of Jupiter. Zeus was definitely vibing that way. And yes, Yuzu has borderline unhealthy gold medal thinking in bed. He wants to be not just good but damn good with pleasing you. If you don’t have a good time and head home without an orgasm, he’ll consider himself a failure. Yuzu won’t cut himself any slack there. You’d have a hard time changing his ways into something more chill and moderate. Instead, you will see the benefits of rolling with it once you see how improvement fuels him and does make sex really mindblowing.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Couldn’t do things like slapping you, spanking. Yuzu makes for a terrible daddy dom, it’d not suit him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Cum-dripping oral mess, Yuzu is the brave kind. Totally into it, and can’t resist a good blowjob. Will act different afterwards, there’s a lot of erotic tension. “This evening again?” is what those eyes are saying.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Outstanding kinesthetic intelligence. Every inch of his body follows his intent, and yours if you have him take on certain ways of kneeling. Yuzu can do it all, whatever you want. Tantalizing, moderato, overwhelmingly fast. He can take it, he can portray it. And knows the value of a pause like a true connoisseur. Not just when he wants to prevent cumming early, also just because the moment is right. That’s why cockwarming is a staple, as well as you having him wait patiently for kisses. To top it off: If you give him a blowjob, building up the tension by doing nothing is damn effective. The ruined orgasms you’re gonna give him... delicious.

Everything’s gonna have nice transitions as well, no awkward climbing and rolling and tangling limbs. If he gets something from another room that you need, no slouching. The university course as good as the extracurricular activities. Being inconsistent with any subsidiary details? Not in the Hanyu household, he’s keeping it classy. Yuzu feels like if he makes the bridges to new positions even remotely messy, the feeling is killed and it’s as if he’d break character mid-skate. Although he’ll have to practice and refine and test a lot of things because he’s not super experienced and adapting to your own movements is an individualized thing to do, he’s a masterclass of quality, period.

Even when things get fast and heated, nothing feels off. Having that kind of body smartness also means: Yuzu learns by touch, whatever you do. He knows by the way you pull his hair what comes next. How much saliva drips off your tongue when you suck at his neck, he knows how hard you’ll to ravage him in five minutes. This guy observes things you aren’t even conscious of because his physical understanding is just so fine-tuned.

The sense of rhythm, and every skating programme of him will showcase that, unbeatable. Unless his mood is really impacted by something severe, your guy feels it in every bone. He’s an artist, after all, he listens to music all the time. Dissecting rhythms to turn them into movement is what his line of work is all about. The pace will always fit the mood. Everything is precise, but never crude. Instead, the way he moves is dictated by an inherent flow. With little accents that match right with any thrust, like putting his hands on your sides when you’re on top of him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Hit it Shakira: Whenever, wherever! He seemingly carries an entire condom factory with him. Or, to be more exact: At least three of them.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

This one’s a complicated case. Yuzu being reckless on the ice may or may not mirror in your private life. He might need some downtime, so bring out the soft domme stuff. No trial and error stuff, just going through a routine of things you love the most. On the other hand, he always gives it all. This guy’s endurance at your hands is amazing. Advanced kinds of BDSM he will not feel deterred from at all. Rough toys, anal hooks, sounding, whips, why not is Yuzu’s motto. But then again. He has such a confusing mix of innocence and feeling like he’s completely hardcore. You might end up experimenting a lot, but also not daring the leap sometimes because the mood is different. And then rather go for softer hours, where Yuzu will be all shy shy and more bursting with excitement than ever. A good, interesting mix is what I’m saying.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Yuzuru, once he gets a bit of practice to gauge the situation... Viagra on two legs, absolute unexpected powerhouse. You might end up pondering to work out a little and go for a run because this guy is in a consistently outstanding shape to say the least. Olympic athletes are literally hard to fuck with. And since Yuzu is starfishing sometimes (which is very adorable), or he’s in bondage for some time, that presents a further problem: For a second round, he’s full of energy, while you already spent energy. So, you alternate with who’s active, and the other leans back entirely. He has to remind himself since his body is programmed for it: This is no contest — the point is feeling good.

You might ride him reverse cowgirl all the way while you watch TV, and after the overstimulation fades he will eat you out ad nauseam, full course slobbering, sweeping the whole menu. That way, it’s less about keeping up with him, which would be hard for most people not doing sports at his galactic level. He understands, Yuzu knows he’s not normal in that regard, you don’t have to worry. Some exercise still doesn’t hurt, just to further increase the quality of sex anyway.

Then again: Why go jogging and do some laps wasting valuable together time when Yuzu’s lap is the best workout? And running doesn’t guarantee your stamina in bed is perfect even if it does help. You rather wanna manage how to draw out the arousal. It’s a self-control thing, with the goal of having you match up in every aspect as good as you can. In which case, you can count on him to pull it off: Have you seen Yuzu doing jumps side by side with a bunch of female skaters? Copy paste. This guy knows how to synchronize with the ladies.

Something that has to be mentioned beside that, though. Yuzu has asthma since 2 years old, and it’s often a mind thing to him still these days. He doesn’t let it stop him from sleeping with you because as always, he’s not letting anything get in his way. He has learned to live and thrive with it. But you both have to mind the possibility of an attack, he prevents it with inhalers, and the mood plays a crucial role. Yuzu being comfortable and confident is so important to his breathing, and keeping a good rhythm rather than being chaotic in bed. So, you will plan most of your sexual activities rather than improvising. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Would stuff an entire sex shop into his every available orifice. Yuzu is a toy freak, he wants to try everything. Motto: a new one every day. Well, almost. But he can afford it. Buys stuff he uses solely on himself, things you use on him, things he uses solo and you use on him, and as the cherry on top, every possible high end vibrator on the market for you. Any size, too. This bitch will browse through the latest innovations, prepare to get off. He’s obsessed with seeing you use it on yourself. Yuzu owns a separate phone just for videos of you buzzing your clit, and him fingering you for minutes and minutes. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Extremely so. Loves to be a total brat only to get put into his place. He does it so you’ll pull the chin grab on him. He likes getting choked out as a punishment as well. Yuzu also tends to be very around the corner if you will when it comes to soft subbing, he lays over expecting cuddles but doesn’t say so. Buds his head against your chest, nuzzles, and so on. Lighter forms of teasing come to him very easily. Loves to prompt. Roughhousing, banter, favorite thing.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Moderately loud because his voice is very very light, but unsurprisingly — he’s just beautiful. What a nice tone. Gorgeous whimpering sounds. And when you go hard on him, voice cracks! And really heavy breathing. What’s gonna be the most striking though is his expressiveness. We know it from the ice and interviews, and he can really amp it up even further. No need for screaming, that face will speak the volumes.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You’ll be blessed with him if you have a huge crying kink. Yuzu definitely opens the waterworks every other week in bed. Happy tears, horny tears, relief tears, aftercare tears, orgasm tears, masochist tears, romantic tears, subspace tears, he has it all. He also begs for the type of pain that makes it stream down his face for minutes. He’s touchy-feely all the way and feels like he can really connect with you that way.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His ass twitching is kind of a spectacle, but I don’t have to tell you, do I. Yuzu has muscles for the gods in there. So voluptuous, you can’t call it any other way. Big booty boyfriend, Jesus you can show him off, he loves it. Around the house, he will flaunt them big ole athlete buns in particular, acting like it’s unintended. Um, Yuzu, those are joggings. Smack it, he is sure to moan. 

And may I respectfully mention as well — this guy has some major big ass balls figuratively and literally. How else would someone be motivated to jump a triple axel like it’s nothing. Not kidding, they’re big and round and ugh. His love for tight pants doesn’t help. He knows what your eyes like and dresses just to flex the goods. Screams for more spanking and pinching if you ask me. Yuzu is definitely serving it. Well-endowed, you lucky girl.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Mega horny, ready when you are. On a scale from zero to hundred? Breaching into the 90 percent right there. Yuzu’s hormones are literally insane. On paper he’s 26, but his dick wants the 18th birthday party. Jesus is he gonna be clingy when he’s in the mood. All wrapped around you in a backhug in the kitchen or when you iron a costume of his, and that’s sexy of him. He’s not gonna hide what’s filling out those sweatpants. He’ll desperately grind up against you like it’s Christmas.

Paired with his puppy eyes and little “Do you have some time... I’ll iron this tomorrow” — instant pounce. He’s admittedly a bit hard to keep up with sometimes, though. The reason: With that level of exercise, he has major pent-up energy. That machine is definitely running. Heavy sports changes your hormones, nervous system, and especially blood flow. Now take that to the scale of his performances and regimens? That equals a firework of horny. No wonder he masturbates all the time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Takes some time. He cools down, sweats it out, chugs water. However, don’t underestimate how tired Yuzu can already be. His daily routines and competitions have a toll on him. Ironically, he’s not a deep sleeper, however. Yuzu might toss and turn and have sudden energy bursts, or ideas, or gets hungry. So, he needs his plushies, he needs a weighted blanket, warm pajamas, a hot cup of his favorite warm drink, a light snack, and you by his side. Spooning him excessively and sometimes even humming to him. Yuzu looks like a certified angel on his pillow, his well-deserved rest from everything is so important, too.

NOTE - hope i could indulge you, thank you for reading!

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