#why? because the world is ending that's why so let's have what little joys we can still find

[ari-ana-bel-la]

landos daughter being like six and all the drivers want to be her favorite and carlos is like but i was your favorite when you were younger but no one can top oscar anymore, oscar is just her favorite person besides lando

The battle for the title

Lando had never expected to be a single father so young, but from the moment Yn was placed in his arms, he knew he’d never love anything more. She was his entire world, his brightest light, and his greatest joy.

And since she was a baby, she had been by his side everywhere—including the paddock. The other drivers had become her honorary uncles, each one trying to earn her favor in different ways. But for years, there had been only one true champion: Carlos.

Carlos had secured his title early on, winning Yn over with his cooking skills. While the other drivers brought toys, stuffed animals, and fancy gifts, Carlos gave her time. He let her sit on the kitchen counter, rolling out dough or stirring sauces. He let her taste-test everything, sneaking her little bites before dinner was officially served. It was their thing.

So naturally, Carlos had grown comfortable in his status as “Yn’s Favorite Uncle.” He didn’t even blink when Max tried bribing her with candy or when Pierre tried dazzling her with his cool sunglasses. He wasn’t threatened when Daniel pulled out all the stops with his silly voices and jokes. Because at the end of the day, Yn always ran straight into his arms, demanding he make her something yummy.

But then, something changed.

Yn started school. And suddenly, Carlos was no longer her favorite.

Now, it was Oscar.

Carlos was devastated.

Lando, on the other hand, was having the time of his life watching it all unfold.

It all came to a head during one of their big summer dinners.

Lando loved these gatherings—everyone came together, partners included, to share a meal and just enjoy each other’s company. Yn loved them too. Usually, she stuck close to Carlos or him, but tonight, she made a surprising choice.

“Where do you want to sit, sweetheart?” Lando asked as they entered the large backyard where the dinner was set up.

Yn didn’t even hesitate. She ran straight to the middle of the table, beaming up at Oscar and Lily. “Can I sit here?”

Oscar grinned. “Of course, munchkin.”

Lily smiled, scooting over to make space. “We saved you a seat.”

Carlos, who had been expecting Yn to take the seat next to him like always, froze mid-step. His fork nearly fell from his fingers. “Perdón?” he muttered under his breath.

Lando barely contained his laugh, biting down on his knuckle as he sat across from Carlos, ready to watch the show.

Yn settled between Oscar and Lily, happily chatting away. Oscar helped her with her napkin, and Lily handed her a small bowl of strawberries, which made Yn light up with joy.

Carlos, meanwhile, looked like he had been personally betrayed. His dramatic sigh caught the attention of Charles, who was sitting next to him. “What’s wrong?”

Carlos gestured toward the scene in front of them. “Do you not see this? Look!”

Charles followed his gaze. “She’s just sitting with Oscar.”

“That’s not just sitting. That’s—” Carlos paused as Yn leaned her head against Oscar’s arm, giggling at something he said. “That’s treason!”

Lando snorted into his drink. “Relax, mate. You’ve had years at the top. Maybe it’s time for a new champion.”

Carlos whipped around, scandalized. “Excuse me? You are just going to allow this? You, her father, are going to stand by and do nothing?”

Lando smirked. “Oh, I’m enjoying this.”

Charles patted Carlos’ shoulder. “Come on, she still loves you.”

“Not enough,” Carlos huffed. “She has replaced me.”

Deciding he needed answers, Carlos leaned forward, catching Yn’s attention. “Princesa,” he said, using the nickname that had always melted her heart. “Why is Oscar suddenly your favorite?”

Yn looked at him, blinking with wide eyes as if the answer was obvious. “Because Oscar is a koala.”

Silence.

Carlos stared.

Lando choked on his drink.

Max, who had been eavesdropping, started laughing so hard he nearly fell off his chair. “Oh, mate. That’s rough.”

Oscar, completely unfazed, held out his hand for a high five. Yn slapped her tiny hand against his with a big grin before returning to her strawberries.

Carlos turned to Lando in desperation. “She thinks he is a koala? What does that even mean?”

Lando wiped a tear from his eye. “I mean, he is from Australia, so—”

“But I cook for her! I let her help in the kitchen! I have been her favorite since she was a baby!”

Yn, clearly pleased with her answer, continued eating happily. Lily smiled softly, smoothing a hand over the little girl’s hair. “She saw a documentary about koalas a few weeks ago,” she explained. “And then Oscar told her he’s actually seen one in real life, so… I guess that made an impression.”

Carlos looked at Oscar like he had personally orchestrated his downfall. “That’s it? That’s all it takes? You see a koala, and suddenly you’re the favorite uncle?”

Oscar shrugged. “Not my fault you never met one.”

Carlos threw his hands up in exasperation.

Meanwhile, Charles, ever the peacemaker, pulled Carlos into a hug, patting his back like he was mourning a great loss. “There, there. It was a good run.”

Lando could barely breathe. “Oh, mate. This is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Yn, still completely unbothered, turned to Oscar. “Do you think we can see a koala together one day?”

Oscar smiled. “I’d love that, munchkin.”

Carlos groaned dramatically, putting his head in his hands. “This is a nightmare.”

Yn, hearing his groan, finally glanced back at him, tilting her head. “Are you okay, Uncle Carlos?”

Carlos straightened immediately. “Of course, Princesa. I just—” He sighed, shaking his head. “I just thought I was your favorite.”

Yn blinked, then smiled sweetly. “You’re still my cooking uncle.”

Carlos perked up. “Really?”

She nodded. “No one makes better food than you.”

The table let out a collective “aww,” and Carlos immediately melted. “Bueno,” he said, smiling again. “I can live with that.”

Lando leaned back in his chair, utterly entertained. “This might be my new favorite tradition.”

Carlos shot him a glare, but the smile on his face lingered. Even if he wasn’t the reigning favorite anymore, he supposed being the cooking uncle wasn’t too bad.

But he was still going to find a way to make himself cooler than a koala.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed this story. My requests are always open for you.

-💙🦋

[justasecretflower]

Babysitting Ft. The homicipher men

Synopsis- you were tasked with babysitting a baby around 5 months old. How do the homicipher men act around human babies?.. / all set in the real world / happy love ending

incl- Mr. Crawling, Mr. Scarletta, Mr. Chopped, Mr. Silver, Mr. Hood.

Cw/ baby fever,

Mr. Crawling

🖤your sibling just dropped off your niece, a slobbery, chunky, baby 2 minutes ago with a bag of necessities in tow, now, you’re watching Bluey with her on the couch..and so is mr. Crawling

🖤your niece was a little intimidated by Mr. Crawling at first, you picked her up from your sibling, shut the door and as soon as your nice and Mr. Crawling made eye contact, the baby was wailing and Mr. Crawling was stressing

🖤soon, though, you three rested on the couch. Well, you and your niece and mr. Crawling awkwardly sitting on the floor in front of you

🖤he felt a small tug, only to turn his head to see chubby little fingers pulling on his hair. The small creature babbled and cooed, the fingers grabbing and twirling at his hair.

🖤he smiled and giggled, seeing the adorable tiny thing enjoy his hair.

🖤he figured out how to play with the tiny thing. Poke her belly, peak a boo, tickle her a little and throw her then catch her. He loved his little buddy!!

🖤while the baby was asleep, all sprawled out he looked over at you, a happy smile on his face “how” “make?”

🖤”how make..a baby?” You pointed at your nice confusingly he nodded eagerly. You paused and simplified ‘how to make’

🖤he only smiled, looking at the baby, then you again “we make?”

Mr. Scarletta

❤️when the baby gets dropped off he kinda just stays.. away. He's not used to small humans being around.

❤️you encourage him to at least come and hangout. To which he complies, obviously, since he's at your service.

❤️he stands next to you while you spoon feed the baby, and pass over the spoon when your phone rings. At first, he didn't know what to do, he just awkwardly stood by with the baby spoon till he mimics the airplane thing that you did and feeds the baby.

❤️he finds a strange joy when the baby starts babbling, clapping her hands and giggling, as if it made him happy that she was happy.

❤️he has found a new friend! after feeding her he let's you clean her up because he doesn't know how but then afterwards grabs the little thing right out of your hands to go hold her and play with her on the couch

❤️he found it so cute that humans are sometimes this small and weak. He likes it when she wraps her fingers around his finger. He finds it so cute.

❤️cradles the baby, watches tv with her, just gently swaying with the baby, he loves it! sign him up. I know some people will probably think he doesn't like babies, but he does! he likes how small and weak they are. Just little lumps of slobbery chunk that babbles. So cute.

Mr. Silver

🩶fascination. Naturally. What is this small human?

🩶he kinda just..observes. Watches how to take care of such an incapable, small little lump.

🩶he finds them cute though. Likes to see what makes them happy, stresses out when he accidentally makes them cry.

🩶he watches the kids shows and tries to decipher a meaning and see the affect the colors and sounds have on the baby and what it benefits to them.

🩶tries to teach the baby monster language, but is only met with a small, confused head tilt. Gives up on it after you tell him the baby only knows some words in human language. It was hard teaching you monster language, a fully capable adult, it'd be nearly impossible teaching a little, babbling creature.

🩶watches out for dangers while she sleeps, stands over her and watches for any possible threat. Once a fly flew in her general direction. and it immediately got a scalpel thrown directly at it, pinning it to the wall.

🩶definitely protective over her.

Mr. Chopped

🧡not a fan

🧡why do humans have these attention sucking things?!

🧡gets mad at the baby stealing away your attention and especially hates it when you choose to pickup and sway the baby instead of him

🧡No! Not baby! pick up me! carry!

🧡the baby would be interested in him, grabbing at his face and hair, yes, he bit the child, no, he didn't apologize.

🧡just sulks until the baby leaves. You won't get him to watch the baby, try to make funny faces at the baby to play, you will get nothing out of him.

🧡I saw a video with a dude saying he had abortion fever, that's literally mr. chopped. He hates it when it cries, grabs at his face, he all around does not like the baby.

🧡do NOT babysit with him.

Mr. Hood

🤎He get's so soft when he first sees the baby, how cute, how delicate.

🤎he wants to help the baby, get out of his way. Teach him how to do it once and he's on a roll, sit back, don't do anything he's got this.

🤎is it because he wants you to relax? partially, more so because he wanted to hangout with the strange, small little human. He adores the baby sooo much.

🤎he hates it when the baby cries, but is very, very patient and handles the baby extremely well.

🤎probably the most patient, nurturing, and caring of all of the homicipher men, Mr. Scarletta knows how to take care of a baby, just doesn't like to, he just likes playing with them, Mr. Silver kind of sees the baby as a learning experience, Mr. Crawling leaves as soon as the baby cries, and Mr. Chopped is well.. Mr. Chopped.

🤎is like Mr. Crawling, now he wants one. But gets weary when he learns about birth and pregnancy, it seems like a lot on you.

🤎could you two just like...steal one?

ART CREDS!! - bubble_oog on X, Akiyori09 on Reddit :).

tags

[skzhua]

episode 2.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female reader

genre: Fluff, angst, exes-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 4.1k (not proofread yet!)

warnings: Cursing, post-breakup feelings, jealousy.

summary: while kitty explores her bi awakening, you try to navigate how to deal with being friends with min ho again, and it's not quite how you'd like it to be. especially not when stella is around.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

(let me know by filling the form in my bio if you want to be added to the taglist!)

"My world got so much bigger because of you and because of Simon," Kitty read as you and Q laid in her bed, as if she was reading bedtime stories to you both. "Jina has to know something about Simon. Why else would my mom mention him in her letter?"

"Yuri emailed her mom," you pointed out.

"Yeah, but Jina's at some wellness retreat and doesn't have any service," she sighed before grunting. "It is killing me to be this close to finding the guy that my mom was so in love with that she moved here against her parents' wishes..."

She kept on rambling on about her frustrations and wonders, meanwhile Q was attempting to make sense out of it. As for you, you couldn't focus much. Eyes on the phone, you were still hoping someone would text you any moment now. You got up from Kitty's bed and dropped yourself on yours, letting out a whine in the process.

"Y/N, stop thinking about it," Q said.

You shook your head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Kitty hummed. "So there is somebody more dramatic than me!"

You all heard laughs coming from the other room, and Kitty rolled her eyes.

"I guess Yuri and Juliana are still in their honeymoon phase, uh?" Q commented.

"They're always tickle-fighting!" Kitty exclaimed, a fake smile plastered on her face. "We basically have to tear them apart for curfew checks so the RA doesn't figure out they're a couple."

"Doesn't that bother you?"

"Oh, not at all! Their squeals of joy act as a helpful reminder for me to stay focus on my goals. It'll get rid of this silly little crush-"

Her alarm went off went off and she sighed in relief. "Thank God."

You forced yourself to get your butt up and yell "Okay, guys, break it up! Ten minutes until curfew check!"

"Thanks, Y/N!" they yelled back.

The three of you got out the room to lead Q out the door, only to be welcomed with the sight of Yuri and Juliana cuddling. While you were so happy for your friend, you couldn't help but feel bad for Kitty. I mean, you were pretty much in the same situation.

"You're really going to subject yourself to an entire semester of that?" Q asked.

"You know what they say," Kitty responded. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?"

Unconvinced, he nodded. "Right. Something's telling me this is just killing you, though, so... Good night!" he waved at you both before walking out the door.

"Girls!" Yuri called out as soon as the door closed. "You're always hiding out in your room, come hang out with us!"

"Yeah, come distract us," Juliana added. "Otherwise, an RA might walk in and catch us making out."

"Oh," Yuri said in a teasing voice.

"Sure," Kitty responded, uncomfortable.

The couple began to tease each other with jokes and stuff, making you both even more uncomfortable. They ended up deciding to hide in their bedroom, and so did you in yours. Assuming Kitty would follow, you let the door open. When you noticed she wasn't coming with you, you turned on your heels to head back to stopped yourself as soon as you heard Yuri's voice. You were never the kind to eavesdrop, doing it a little wouldn't be so bad, right?

"What about you? You going to bed?" Yuri asked.

"Soon," your friend replied. "Y/N and I are just going to wait for Stella to get home. She's on her big date with Min Ho."

Your heart tightened as a short silence fell between your friends.

Yuri was the one to break it. "I don't know why Y/N gave her his number."

"Well, she was pretty mad at him. Maybe it's her way to move on."

"But they were getting on so well at the barbecue the other night. I'm sure I even saw a spark between them."

"You heard Y/N, though. He did some fucked up shit."

They were right. Why did you give her his number if you were hoping so bad he'd text you, telling you how boring she was and how he wished you were there to save him?

That text never came.

Chores. That was your punishment for staying with the boys last semester. In the end, you were also discovered to be one of the roommates, hence why you were mopping around a classroom with the whole gang: Dae, Q, Kitty... and Min Ho, of course. So far, avoiding Min Ho had been going pretty well. You caught up on a lot of stuff with Dae, such as how he had been dealing with the break up and how things were going at his place. You did manage to get your mind away from your problems for a short amount of time. It was also a good reminder that Dae was an excellent friend.

"You're avoiding him," he nodded his head towards Min Ho.

You shrugged. "Maybe."

"He really does feel bad about your argument."

You let a breath out. "I know that you're trying to ease things between us, and I appreciate it. But I want to heal in my own way first."

He smiled apologetically. "I get it."

And as if the world was doing everything in its power to make your life miserable, the man in question decided to mop right at your feet. And as to make any worse, the guy was intentionally poking your feet every two seconds. While you glared at him as a sign to stop, he could only smile lightly, and do it again. The silent interaction went on for a few minutes, until he cleared his throat, grabbing your attention.

"I'm just not that into Stella."

Your eyes grew bigger. "Pardon me?"

"I mean, she's cute. Don't get me wrong. But, maybe she's a bit too nice?"

You scoffed. "Is this where you're the playboy wanting to corrupt the good girl, and you're just mad because you're not getting anywhere with her?"

He threw his head back, letting a laugh out. "Please, I already did that with you." Instant blush. "I just think she's boring. Why are you so focused on my love life anyway, pup?"

It took everything in you to not let it show you were hearing exactly what you wanted to hear. "You tell me, you're the one who brought it up. But to answer your question, I'm not," you faked his accent.

"I actually miss the two of you bickering like this," Dae commented, reminding you he had been there the entire time.

"Am I still the only one who's irritated by her?" Min Ho groaned. "It's her and Covey's fault that we're cleaning the building for my dad's vanity project."

Q chuckled. "Guys, there could be way worse punishments. Like your dad forcing everyone to take one of his arts electives. Except for me! Your boy got an exemption. The star of KISS' track team needs to focus on getting gold at regionals."

"I'm taking Entertainment Management," Kitty informed.

"Yeah, same. Kind of sounds interesting," you affirmed.

"Me too," Min Ho said as he winked at you, making you blush again. "It's the only one without singing or dancing."

"I signed up for Advanced Voice," Dae informed casually.

Kitty turned around slowly, doubt on her face. "You sing? How did I not know this?"

"Because we were long-distance, and it's weird to serenade someone over the phone."

"I think we should hear something," Q encouraged as the four of you positioned yourself to be his audience.

"Now, like, here?"

"No, next year," Q joked.

"Yes," you and Min Ho said in unison.

"I wanna hear it," Q said.

"Yes, right now," Kitty rushed him.

In an instant, Dae jumped on top of a desk amd began to sing his heart out. Frankly, it was one of the prettiest voices you've heard. If this was his hidden talent, who knew what else he was capable of? The fun was cut short once Principal Lee walked in the room, visibly bothered byt the concert.

"This is a punishment for secretly living with Ms. Covey and Ms. Park last semester." At the sound, you straightened your posture, now face to face with the principal. "No fun!"

The moment you thought you were done for, Min Ho's father walked in with some of his employees following behind. You exchanged glances with Min Ho, who shrugged as to show he was as perplexed as you were.

"Okay, kids, you're dismissed. My cleaning crew will take care of it," Mr. Moon announced, Principal Lee shaking his head in disapproval.

"Wait, you can't overrule me on student matters."

"Renovations must begin today to stay on schedule, unless you also want my donation delayed."

Mr. Lee paused before his shoulders dropped in defeat. "Students, you're dismissed. For today."

The adults left one after the other until only the five of you were left in the room once again. It was a matter of seconds before you exploded in laughter, feeling somewhat relieved as well.

"I have never seen anyone talk to Professor Lee like that," Dae commented.

"I mean, he kind of ate," Q added.

Kitty squealed. "Mr. Moon forever!"

Min Ho let out a chuckle before he went on to gather the cleaning materials. You grabbed some yourself and left with him to put them back where they belong. You wanted to speak, say something. Only, nothing came to your mind that was slightly interesting. Even less after learning he had close to no interest in Stella. For the few eye contacts you had, small smiles were exchanged. But again, nothing more.

As your aunt told you, you stopped by her office before going to your Entertainment Management class. While you were having a harsh return, you did realize you hadn't visited her since school started. Knocking at her office's door, she immediately yelled for you to come in. As you stepped in, you immediately noticed the bags beneath her eyes.

"Are you killing yourself with work again?"

She might have looked exhausted, but she didn't let it stop her from laughing at your comment. "I'm trying to slow down, but you know me. And with Jina gone, things are working out differently this semester."

"Tell me about it... The curfew checks are getting annoying."

She nodded, and then picked a letter up. "I'm glad you came. I wanted to show this to you."

You took the piece of paper from her before reading the information on it. Frowning, you held it up to her again. "It's not addressed to me, it's for you."

"I know, but it's from your father. While cleaning this week, I rediscovered it and thought you might want to have a look at it."

Your expression softened and you took her hand, grateful. "Thank you. Anyway, I just wanted to see you a bit and let you know that things are settling down."

"I'm glad. Have you seen Min Ho? Seriously, that guy is handsome! What a shame it had to end."

You rolled your eyes. "And that is my cue to leave for class."

You could hear her from behind as you left as she was trying to either apologize or reinforce her point. Either way, you were far too gone to hear any of it, and you went to join Kitty at the cafeteria. Phone in her hands, she was trying to contact another retreat center in hopes Jina would be there. You started to walk and she mindlessly followed, phone now glued to her ear. They didn't answer until you reached class.

"Hey, could you connect me to Jina Lim's room? She's a guest at your resort," she spoke but her disappointed look was all it took for you to understand the call went nowhere. "Oh, my mistake. She must be staying at another property. Thank you."

As she hung up, you patted her shoulder. "You'll get a hold of her. Want me to ask Yuri?"

She groaned. "I did already, but she can't even reach her mom herself, so I guess it makes sense I'm not getting anywhere."

As you scanned the room to find a seat, your eyes landed on Stella, who just happened to be sitting next to Min Ho. The class you were almost excited to attend was now definitely the one you'd hate the most. Still, Min Ho gestured the seat next to him so you allowed yourself to take the spot, and Kitty sat on your other side.

"Hey, do you know who our teacher is?" she asked the pair.

"I'm just glad I won't have to perform. I'm still scarred from playing the donkey in my church's Nativity play," Stella replied. "But I'm guessing, you know, with your dad, you'll have a record deal, blockbuster movie out soon?"

You could only roll your eyes — though you did it mentally. She didn't know him, and it showed. Your inner comments were confirmed as soon as Min Ho opened his mouth.

"Yeah, not my thing."

"Imagine," you said in an ironic tone, making him chuckle lightly.

The door finally opened, revealing who your teacher would be. You were unsurprised to see Mr. Moon step in, as flamboyant as ever.

"Good afternoon," he greeted.

Min Ho' glanced at him for a second only to look at you with panicked eyes. "Oh my gosh."

"And congratulations. Out of all the new arts courses offered at KISS, you lucky few have stumbled into a masterclass." his dad continued.

"Masterclass, my ass," Min Ho said under his breath, you being the only person to laugh at his comment.

"But, I have news for you. Being a successful manager isn't something one can teach."

"Then why is this a class?" Min Ho commented once more, looking so done.

"It comes down to trusting your gut. And today, you will determine who will earn a spot in Advanced Voice class and who will get their mic cords cut."

Kitty raised her hand. "Uh, Mr. Moon, I don't know enough about singing to be an effective-"

"Knowledge is so overrated," he cut her off. "My strongest opinions are on things I know almost nothing about."

"And that's my dad..." Min Ho sighed.

"I really wonder why you didn't want me to meet him," you joked only to receive a glare.

"Y/N, are you seeing the same man that I am seeing right now?" he gestured to his father.

"Yeah, an icon."

He huffed in frustration, but you could only laugh more at his reaction. As you were about to say something else, you met Stella's eyes. She was obviously telling you to back off. Who was she to tell you so? If anything, she should be grateful you gave her Min Ho's number even if he was your ex.

"Let's bring in the aspiring singers!" Mr Moon exclaimed.

Class went by quickly and, frankly, your feedbacks were written half-consciously. For most of them, you wrote some sweet comments with one or two flaws. Except for Dae, because he is a friend who just happens to be an excellent singer. At the end of the class, Mr. Moon went over everyone's feedback quickly — noting that Stella was being too kind and that Min Ho was a perfect critic — before class was dismissed.

"Y/N, you coming?" Min Ho said the moment the bell rang.

"Where?"

He shook his head in annoyance. "Just, come with me."

"Alright, my bad," you groaned.

Putting your belongings in your bag, you followed him out. You could hardly catch up to him as he was running out that room as fast as he could.

"Would you slow down?"

"Stop whining. I forgot how irritating that sound of yours is," he said in a huff.

"Well, why did you want me to leave class with you if I'm oh-so fun to be around?" you asked, growing impatient.

He stopped, making you almost run into his back. "Avoiding my dad and Stella. I feel comfortable with you so I guess you were my easy way out."

You took his hand — only as a friend — and rubbed it in a reassuring way. "You'll get through the semester just fine, I promise."

He let a chuckle out. "Well, if you and Covey are there, probably not."

You slapped his arm. "That's what I get for being nice?"

Satisfied his mocking worked, he laughed some more. "Is coffee going to make up for it?"

You perked an eyebrow. "Am I paying for it or-"

"On me," he said as if it was obvious.

Satisfied, you dragged him behind as you still had a grip on his hand. With a few protests, he tried to break away but gave in soon enough since you were clearly not going to let go of him.

Maybe he missed the two of you bickering like this as well.

It would have been a fun moment between you two if it wasn't for Mihee thanking Min Ho for getting into Advanced Voice which got Min Ho to go speak about it with his dad who kind of got into his head as he showered him with hopes and compliments... All that, and you had to follow him around like a literal lost puppy.

"I'll go," you said once you left his father.

He frowned. "What do you mean? We barely had time for ourselves."

"Exactly," you exhaled before clearing your throat. "I get this wasn't your fault, but I don't want to be your pet, following you while you do your stuff. That's what I did in L.A. and I don't it to happen again."

"Y/N," he tried to interfere but you didn't let him.

"And, please, let down Stella easily. She's nice, but she'll still give me death glares if you keep leading her on."

And with that, you left him there.

Kitty threw a dress on your bed... while you were laying in bed. You took the piece of clothing, looking at it up and down, and stood up to put it back in the wardrobe — where it belonged.

"Oh, come on!"

You threw yourself back on your mattress, pulling your phone out again. "I said I was not going."

"You're leaving me alone?"

You gave her a look. "It's a date, Kitty. The purpose of a date is to go one-on-one. Not with your friend as an extra."

She groaned. "But how am I not going to make a fool of myself?"

You shrugged, still on your phone. "Yuri and Juliana will be there too, no? They're getting ready as we speak."

Distressed, she took a huge pile of clothes from her drawer and dropped it on her own bed. "Help me out instead of making fun of my misery."

You ended up doing so because, well, you were her friend and you also did enjoy dressing her up. However, as soon as she was dolled up, you were back to being a couch potato. You didn't even hear the girls leave, and with Stella being gone wherever she was, you were left alone in the dorm.

Hunger got the best of you eventually, which made you check in the refrigerator what food you had left. Eggs and fizzy drinks were not going to fill your belly, so you took it upon yourself to change into a decent outfit. Once dressed, it was time to head to the department store near school so you could buy instant ramen for the hundredth time already.

Min Ho: Can we talk?

You saw the message, but ignored it. You had one goal in mind: food. While the fresh air hit you as soon as you opened the door, you got used to it quickly and rushed yourself to the store. Only then you spotted a familiar figure. Min Ho, again.

"For fuck's sake," you cursed under your breath as you tried to act as if you didn't spot him yet.

Thankfully, he was on his phone. You checked yours and he was, indeed, in the process of writing you another message. You almost found his attempt at reaching you cute. There was a lot of debating happening in your brain whether to text him back, come up to him, or even offer for him to go get food with you. The universe decided for you when his father appeared, walking furiously towards his son.

"Mihee dropped Advanced Voice," he said, anger spread through his entire body language. "You tipped her off, didn't you?"

"Well-" Min Ho started.

"You went around my back just to protect her feelings."

Again, you hated eavesdropping, but with how loud Mr. Moon was speaking, he didn't make it any easier. You poorly tried to hide behind a tree closeby. While you didn't like where this was going, you couldn't intervene. Not yet.

"I don't know why I thought you had what it takes to be a manager. I gave you a chance to step up and impress me," he continued, growing angrier by the second. "And instead, you threw it away for some loser who can't even sing."

"Don't talk to him like that."

Min Ho turned around and his eyes immediately softened when they landed on you. The words left your mouth without your knowledge, giving you no choice but to approach the duo.

"This is a private conversation between father and son."

"Well, you're a crappy father. Not just from what I am seeing right now, but also from everything I've heard about you. Min Ho does have what it takes to be a manager, more than you do with this tired Simon Cowell routine from 2002,"

You looked at Min Ho real quick to see if he would try to stop you, but he was speechless. Letting you steal the show, he was almost admiring you.

You took it as a sign to continue. "For a man who claims to have his finger on the pulse, you should know that bullying is so over, Mr. Moon. It's really a miracle you haven't been canceled."

His jaw clenched. "You certainly have a lot to say, don't you?" is all he said before taking off.

Not a sound could be heard after that. You didn't dare to look at Min Ho, not after the stunt you pulled. You had no idea what took over you.

"I'm sorry... I-" you started but left, embarrassed.

Only, you were stopped by a hand grabbing you by the arm. "No, wait," he said, turning your body to face him. "Y/N, where did that come from?"

"I don't know, it sort of just... came out? Seeing you being yelled at, I just snapped. And with everything you told me about him, I don't want you to suffer more than you already have."

He took both of your hands, grazing on your skin with his thumbs. "I've never had someone who'd stand up for me that way, so thank you."

You nodded shyly. "I just hope I didn't make things worse."

"You did quite the opposite. I think you impressed him. I bet he thinks you're a real badass," he chuckled. "It's a shame it's when we're not together anymore. He would have approved."

You didn't know what to respond, so you nodded again. "I should go, then."

His grip got firmer, a sign he didn't want you to leave. "Can I be honest with you?"

"Sure."

He gulped. "I'm sorry for kind of using you as some decoration I can bring wherever I want. That's never what you were to me and it will never be."

By default, your bodies kept getting closer to one another. Everything around you was like fog to you, there was only him and the sound of your heartbeat. A voice in your head told you to get away, to learn from the mistakes of the past. Another was screaming for you to play your cards right, and let him be back in your life again. In a word, divided. That's how you were feeling.

You raised an eyebrow, now curious. "What am I to you, then?"

"Hopefully, this."

Before either of you could process, you were kissing. It truly felt like your lips were meant to be together as they moved in sync. Your arms wrapped around his neck while his were placed on your waist. It felt... like home. And you hated that you loved it so much.

What you hated even more was seeing Stella behind him once you pulled away.

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Copyright © 2025 skzhua. All rights reserved.

[supernotnatural2005]

Hey love! Could I request Dean and wife!reader who have been trying for a baby and reader is finally pregnant and then during some celebratory sex, Dean has a moment where he realizes that he might have a tiny (massive) pregnancy kink? Maybe we can traumatize Sammy with it a little too just for fun

Burning for You

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: You're pregnant and it's awoken something feral, something instinctual in Dean.

Word count: 4.7k

Prompt: "But you said..."

Warnings/tags: Smut (18+), Canon divergence, 'fix it fic', fluff, pregnancy kink, established relationship. Kind of spoilers?

AN: Okay so I've done a 3 in 1 one with this one!😅 What originally started as inspiration from this gif 👆🏻 by @heytheredeann, then turned into writing up this prompt, which then felt like it would work well with this request too! 😂 This is set during and after the events of 'Carry On'. Yes, another "fix it fic" because, why not? 😂 I hate that ending! But, I hope you enjoy this one @sir-thisisadndserver and also excited to kick off my second @jacklesversebingo card 😁

Main Masterlist

JVB Masterlist

“But you said…”

“I know, baby.” You sighed, pausing as you folded a shirt into your duffle. “I promise, once this case is over, we will. Okay?”

Dean didn’t respond right away. When you glanced over at him, you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. He sat on the edge of the desk, head bowed, fingers fidgeting in his lap—like a little boy who’d just been told Disneyland was off the table. No tantrum, just pure, pitiful disappointment.

It was tempting to give in. But this was a decision you both had made—one final hunt, one last job, and then you were done. No more blood-soaked motel rooms, no more chasing monsters in the dead of night, no more wondering if you’d make it back alive.

Just a normal life. A real future. And maybe, just maybe, a family.

You, Dean, Sam—even Eileen—had all agreed. It was time. Let the next generation of hunters take the wheel. You’d earned your way out.

Of course, the universe had a sense of humour, because your last job wasn’t just any hunt. It was pulled straight from John Winchester’s journal—a cold case, buried since 1986.

Akron, Ohio. A family torn apart. The father drained of blood, the mother’s tongue removed, and the kids—vanished. Classic vamp MO, the kind John had chased for years but never managed to put down. Now it had circled back, like some twisted full-circle moment. And it was up to you three to finally put it to an end.

You sighed, taking pity on him and crossed the room, stepping between his legs. You let your arms slide over his shoulders, fingers curling at the nape of his neck, and his hands instinctively found your hips, thumbs stroking the skin just beneath your shirt.

“Look,” you murmured, tilting his chin up. His pout was as ridiculous as it was endearing. “I’m all for trying, I am. And if this is really it, our last hunt, then we’re gonna have all the time in the world to, you know…” You smirked, voice dipping suggestively.

Dean’s eyes lit up instantly, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Oh, hell yes.”

He leaned in, pressing a firm but chaste kiss to your lips before pulling back just enough to study you. His fingers tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, then skimmed down to your cheek.

“It is the last one,” he said, voice rough with conviction. His hands squeezed your hips like he needed you to feel it. “I want to stop. I want to do life with you.”

One of his hands then slid lower, resting over your belly where, for months now, he’d been dreaming of something more. A future. A family.

“I wanna make a baby with you.”

Your heart swelled, and your hand came to rest over his. “I want that too.” It left you in a whisper, but the second the words were out, Dean lit up—equal parts awe and that boyish joy that melted you every time.

“So…” he grinned, already pulling you in closer, “why not start now? We’ve got, what—” He flicked his wrist dramatically to check his watch. “Fifteen minutes before we hit the road. And technically, this is our last hunt…”

His eyebrows waggled as his hands slipped down to squeeze your ass, all charm and mischief.

You closed your eyes with a quiet sigh. “You’re impossible.” You huffed humourlessly as you pulled away. “I am not potentially conceiving our child during a quickie, Dean.”

He’d been pestering you for days to ditch the last layer of caution, but you’d held the line. You wanted to be sure—really sure—that this was the end of the road. No more hunting. No more living out of duffels. Just you and Dean, grounded in something real.

“Hey, some of our hottest moments have been on a time crunch, and you know it.” He pointed at you as if daring you to argue.

And honestly? You couldn’t. He had a damn point. Your wedding night, for instance—sinful, passionate, right there in the chapel, until an angry Elvis had chased you both out onto the Las Vegas strip.

But that was beside the point.

“C’mon, I’ll make it worth your while,” he coaxed as he stepped up behind you, strong arms wrapping around your waist. His lips ghosted over your neck, trailing to that sensitive spot just below your ear, the one that had you shivering in his arms.

Goddamn it.

Twenty-five minutes later, you slid into the backseat of the Impala, cheeks still warm and hair slightly out of place. Dean climbed behind the wheel, looking like the cat who got the cream—smug, satisfied, and grinning like the devil himself.

Sam was already in the passenger seat, arms crossed, jaw tight. The moment Dean turned the key in the ignition, Sam glanced between the two of you, narrowing his eyes.

First at the faint, fresh bruise on Dean’s neck.  Then at you, subtly tugging your rumpled shirt into place.

And it clicked.

“Guys. Seriously?” Sam exhaled through his nose and shook his head like a disappointed parent.

You bit your lip, fighting back a laugh. Dean didn’t even try.

“What?” he said, full of faux innocence. “I can’t show my girl a little love, but you can have phone sex with Eileen?”

Sam’s jaw dropped. “I—what? I wasn’t—”

“‘Course you weren’t, Sammy.” Dean smirked in triumph, looking far too pleased with himself. He may have accidentally overheard his little brother’s, not-so-innocent, conversation with Eileen over the phone as he passed by his room on the way to you. 

To further prove his point, Dean continued, in a terrible imitation of Sam’s voice, “I can’t wait ‘til I can see your—”

“Dean!”

“Dude!”

You and Sam shouted in unison, cutting off whatever he was about to say. Dean just burst into laughter, the sound echoing as the car pulled out of the garage.

You shook your head, fond and exasperated all at once.

In all the years you’d hunted together—fought monsters, cheated death, faced down the end of the world more times than you could count—some things never changed.

This. Your family. And now, another chapter awaited. One you were looking forward to the most.

All it needed was for the three of you to make it out in one piece. Then, finally, that dream could become reality.

Three months later…

You couldn’t stop picking at the skin on your thumb, nerves fraying with each tiny tear you made. Your leg bounced restlessly, the stiff white paper beneath you crinkling with every tremor, filling the quiet exam room with a sound far too loud in the silence.

It smelled like antiseptic and latex gloves. That sterile scent that clung to medical offices, mingled with the chill of the air conditioning and the hum of fluorescent lighting above. Your palms were clammy and your mouth tasted like metal.

The door was closed, but every creak in the hallway made your breath catch in your throat.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, willing your heart to slow down, to stop pounding against your ribcage like it was trying to escape. It didn’t work. It never did. Especially without him.

The gentle knock came a moment later, and you startled slightly before forcing a smile as the nurse reentered the room. Her scrubs were a soft lavender, her badge clipped to her chest. Julia, RN.

“Sorry about the wait,” she offered, voice light as she moved toward the counter to update something in the chart. “Dr. Harlow’s busy with another patient. So I’ll be doing your ultrasound today.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. Her practiced small talk filled the air like a balm—something to distract you from the gnawing anxiety. You let her ask the usual questions: last menstrual cycle, any spotting, morning sickness. You answered automatically, a little detached, but you caught her eyes flickering to the empty chair beside you.

You saw it—the subtle flicker of sympathy before she masked it again with professionalism, and you cleared your throat trying to stay composed.

“Will I... will I see anything yet?”

“Depending on how far along you are, yes,” she said gently. “We will be able to detect the heartbeat, too.”

You hesitated. “Can you tell if it’s a boy or girl?”

She gave you a soft smile, probably used to all these questions. “Not until around 18 to 20 weeks. But if you’re about twelve weeks, we should get a good look at the gestational sac, yolk sac, and your baby.”

Twelve weeks. You’d done the math a dozen times already. Calculating to the day you’d left for your last hunt three months ago. Where Dean had seduced you right before. Ironically, you’re certain that ‘quickie’ is what knocked you up in the first place. 

Dean.

Your eyes drifted to the door and you blinked quickly, instead focusing Julia’s instruction to unbutton your jeans and tug your top up beneath your bra line. You did as she asked, shivering slightly as the cold of the exam room kissed your skin. 

“This’ll be a little cold,” Julia warned, twisting the cap off the bottle of coupling gel.

Just as she lifted the tube, the exam room door clicked open.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” came a breathless voice—his voice. “Damn roadworks blocked off half the street. I had to park three blocks away and run the rest.”

Dean was flushed, chest rising and falling with each breath, a faint sheen on his forehead. He moved straight to your side, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple before easing into the chair beside the exam bed.

Your hand reached for him instantly and he caught it without hesitation, wrapping both of his hands around yours, lifting your knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss.

Julia paused, arching a brow as she looked between the two of you. “I take it this is the father?”

Dean gave a crooked grin. “Well, I sure hope so.” You smacked his arm lightly, and he let out a playful hiss.

Julia chuckled under her breath and resumed her position beside the ultrasound machine, gliding the gel tube across your belly and dispensing a generous amount on your skin. You hissed slightly at the sudden chill, muscles tensing.

“Alright, let’s take a look,” she murmured, lifting the transducer probe and pressing it gently against the gel.

The machine beeped softly as she began her sweep, shifting the probe at various angles, the monitor flickering with black-and-white static before resolving into grainy anatomical structures. She adjusted the gain and depth on the control panel with quick, practiced movements, her eyes scanning the screen.

Dean leaned in instinctively, his brow knit with quiet intensity, both of his hands still wrapped tightly around yours. His thumb stroked over your knuckles—slow, nervous, steadying. You could feel the tension vibrating through him. Neither of you were breathing properly.

The room stilled.

Just the soft hum of the machine and the rhythmic taps of Julia’s fingers on the keyboard filled the silence.

Then—

“Right there,” she said softly, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She angled the screen toward you both, her hand still steady on the probe. “That’s the gestational sac. And see that little oval inside? That’s the yolk sac.”

You both leaned forward, eyes locked on the image, as she adjusted the probe slightly, changing the angle.

“And here,” she continued, pressing a few more keys, “is your baby. Measuring around 12 weeks. Everything looks perfect.”

Dean’s grip on your hand tightened as if grounding himself. You could feel him trembling ever so slightly.

Then with a few more taps, the sound came—soft and crackling at first, then unmistakable.

Womp womp womp.

“There’s the heartbeat,” Julia said with a warm smile. “153 beats per minute. Nice and strong.”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move.

There on the screen was the tiniest flicker of life. A rhythm. A pulse. A flutter of motion in a shape no bigger than a lime, with arms and legs now starting to form—so tiny, but so perfectly human. A miracle, unmistakable, undeniable. It was real. Yours. A heartbeat separate from your own, yet part of you. A miracle forming inside you.

Your chest ached, breath caught somewhere between awe and disbelief.

Dean was completely still beside you, his thumb frozen on your skin. When you looked over at him, your throat tightened.

His eyes were wide and wet, his jaw clenched as though he was holding back everything he was feeling—but it was there. Every ounce of emotion was written all over his face. He looked like he was seeing the world for the first time.

Julia printed the sonogram photos and gave you some paper towels to wipe the gel from your stomach, all the while murmuring about your follow-ups and OB appointments before she stepped out for a moment.

Silence settled over the room again, and you both looked down at the black-and-white strip in your hands. Dean reached for it first, holding it so delicately between his fingers like it might crumble if he breathed too hard.

“That’s… ours,” he whispered, voice cracking around the edges. “We made that.”

A tear slipped down your cheek with a quiet sniffle and before you could wipe it away, Dean turned to you, cupping your face gently in both hands. His thumbs brushed across your cheeks, catching the tears before they could fall any further. His eyes shimmered with unshed emotion, the vulnerability in them something you rarely saw—raw and unguarded.

The moment was made more intense for the fact you’d almost lost him on that hunt. A few more inches to the left and he would've had a rebar shaped hole in his heart. Could you imagine how ridiculous that would’ve been? 

“I love you,” he breathed and your heart swelled to the point of pain, your lips parting on a breath. 

“I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice thick and trembling.

Dean leaned in and kissed you softly—slow, reverent, like he was trying to pour everything he couldn’t say into that one touch. Your hand tangled in his flannel as you kissed him back, your foreheads resting together as the kiss broke.

Then you both looked back down at the sonogram again. Two pairs of eyes locked on the tiny life that was half him, half you. A piece of each of you growing into something whole.

Excitement blended with your nerves for what came next. For the journey you were about to take—together.

By the time you made it back to the bunker, the emotional buzz hadn’t worn off. If anything, it had only deepened, sinking into your chest like warmth after a long cold spell.

Sam and Eileen were already up, rounding the corner at the sound of you and Dean descending the steps. Miracle was right behind them, tail wagging like he sensed the joy radiating off you both.

Eileen’s face lit up as soon as she saw you, her hands already moving. “So?” she signed eagerly, her smile wide with anticipation.

You couldn’t help the grin that pulled at your lips as you reached into your bag and handed both her and Sam their own copies of the sonogram. Your fingers trembled slightly, the moment sinking in all over again.

Eileen gasped softly, lifting a hand to her mouth as her eyes scanned the blurry black and white photo. Tears welled in her eyes almost instantly. She looked up at you, her gaze shining. “It’s real,” she signed with a shaky laugh. “You’re really having a baby.”

You nodded, lips wobbling as you fought back a fresh wave of tears—only to lose the battle completely when Sam looked up at you, his eyes already glassy.

“This is… wow, I don’t even know what to say,” Sam breathed, laughing a little as he shook his head. He then pulled you into a careful hug, one arm around your shoulders, the other hand cradling the back of your head. 

He kissed your hair before stepping back, visibly choked up. “I’m so happy for you both.” He said softly, his voice thick with emotion.

Then he turned to Dean, and the brothers embraced briefly, but it was more than the usual back-pat—it lingered, unspoken gratitude. Dean’s eyes looked a little misty when he pulled away, but he just cleared his throat and rubbed at the back of his neck.

Eileen was already pulling you into her arms, sniffling softly against your shoulder. “You’re going to be amazing,” she signed when she stepped back, voice trembling as she spoke it aloud.

The celebration that followed was cozy, full of soft laughter and teasing. Dean poured a round of whiskey—apple juice for you—and you couldn’t help but grumble about your temporary drinking ban. But truthfully, you didn’t feel like you were missing out. Not tonight.

By the time the excitement had settled, it was late and you were exhausted. You and Dean said your goodnights, and headed down the hall to your room hand in hand. But the moment your bedroom door shut behind you, Dean turned and pressed you gently against it.

His mouth was on yours before you could catch your breath, his hands threading into your hair, tilting your head just right as he kissed you deep, slow, like he needed you to feel what words couldn’t say.

Your surprised squeak turned into a soft sigh, your hands finding the back of his head, fingers curling in the short hair there. His mouth moved against yours with aching tenderness, stealing your breath as easily as he always did.

“You’re really pregnant,” he murmured against your lips, voice thick with awe. Like seeing it on the ‘big screen’ solidified it. “We’re really doing this.”

You nodded, heart thudding as you cupped his scruffy jaw. “We are.”

He kissed you again—softer this time—and then, without warning, bent to lift you into his arms. You gasped and instinctively clung to his shoulders as he grinned, carrying you across the room like it was the easiest thing in the world.

He laid you down like you were something delicate, something precious. His lips brushed your forehead, your cheek, and then he kissed you again—slower, but with simmering heat.

Then he trailed down. Along your neck. Across your collarbone. He pushed up your shirt, his rough hands gentle as they skimmed along your skin, and pressed soft kisses down your stomach.

There was the faintest bump, only a hint of life growing inside you, and he paused at your navel, hands cradling your hips, thumbs moving in slow circles.

“That’s our kid in there,” he whispered, voice rough and reverent. “Our baby.”

Your fingers threaded into his hair, heart pounding as you looked down at him. The look on his face nearly undid you—pure awe, disbelief… and something else. Something darker. Needier. Hungrier.

Dean froze, staring at you like the air had been knocked clean out of his lungs—eyes wide, pupils blown.

“What?” you whispered, breath catching in your throat.

He let out a breathless, almost disbelieving laugh and dragged a hand down his face. “I don’t know, I just—” He shook his head, voice dropping, eyes darkening. “The idea of you carrying my kid? It’s so damn hot.”

You blinked, caught off guard for a second—then grinned. “Yeah?”

“I’m serious,” he rasped, voice low and rough as he slid back up your body, his gaze locked on yours, all heat and hunger. “You’ve always been sexy, sweetheart, but now?” His hand came to rest on your belly, possessive and tender all at once. “Knowing you're mine… and that you’re carrying my baby? That’s—fuck, that’s next level.”

He groaned as he kissed your jaw, your cheek, your mouth—like he was trying to devour you piece by piece.

Your breath hitched at the sheer intensity in his voice, the look in his eyes like you were something holy. Then your mouth met his in a crash of heat and urgency, and he answered with equal fervor—like something inside him had just snapped loose.

You tugged him closer, breath hitching as his hands gripped your waist, his body pressing into yours like he couldn’t stand a second of space between you.

You were both surprised by it—that sudden, burning need. But the more it sank in, that you were carrying his child, something primal flared to life in him. It rewired everything. Made him want to claim you all over again.

It wasn’t just lust—it was need. Raw, instinctive, protective. It was a part of him he hadn’t even known existed, But now, now it was fully awake.

And it had only just begun.

One month later…

You and Dean were curled up on the couch in the ‘cave’, the flickering images of an old action movie dancing on the TV screen, but neither of you were paying much attention to it. 

Dean’s body was pressed flush against yours from behind, the heat between you simmering as he slowly moved inside you, his large hand splayed possessively across your belly—now rounder, more pronounced as your pregnancy progressed.

Your leggings and panties were long forgotten on the floor. Dean’s jeans and boxers were shoved haphazardly down to his knees, giving him just enough freedom to move inside you with that torturous, maddening pace—slow, deep, controlled. His cock dragged against your walls in that way that made your toes curl, made you arch back against him for more, always more.

“Fuck,” he rasped against your skin, voice low and reverent, “you feel so fuckin’ good like this. So full, baby.”

His lips grazed your neck, then your shoulder, kissing and nipping every inch he could reach while still moving inside you. His breath was hot and uneven, his mouth trailing along the shell of your ear as he rocked into you again, the thick heat of him stretching you open like he belonged there—because he did. God, he did.

And still, that hand never left your belly.

It was possessive. Proud. Worshipful. Like he couldn’t quite believe you were his—like he needed the physical reminder that you carried something he’d made.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your fingers digging into the couch cushions for purchase as your body trembled. You could feel him twitch inside you, thick and throbbing, pushing deeper with every roll of his hips. His other hand slid beneath you, rough and greedy, cupping your swollen breasts, teasing your sensitive nipple with a practiced touch that made your back arch and a strangled cry escape your throat.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he whispered, grinning against your skin. “You love when I fuck you like this, don’t you? Wrapped around me, nowhere to go…”

“Yes,” you breathed, whimpering as your body tightened around him again, helpless to the sensation. “God, Dean…”

You pushed back against him, chasing that edge, chasing him, needing it—needing him. The friction was heaven, his cock dragging slow and hard inside you, until you were right on the verge of—

The door creaked.

“Hey, I grabbed those chips you were—OH MY GOD.”

The sound of Sam’s voice cracked through the haze like a gunshot.

You both froze. For one hilarious, horrifying second, and then with a gasp, you scrambled for the blanket Dean had kicked to the floor after his wandering hands had convinced you to let him fuck you right here on the couch. 

“Are you serious?” Sam exclaimed, hands flying to his face in an attempt to block his view, but it was clear he’d already seen far too much.

Your face went up in flames. You scrambled to yank the blanket up over you both, heart hammering in your chest. Dean didn’t even flinch—he just let out a low, unbothered scoff like his little brother had interrupted a commercial break, not mid-fucking.

“Don’t be jealous, Sammy,” Dean drawled with a smirk, voice thick with satisfaction. “One day you’ll knock up Eileen and then you’ll get it.”

“Dean!” you gasped, horrified, smacking his thigh as your eyes widened in disbelief. “Oh my God.”

Dean just chuckled, the sound deep and smug, like he was proud of getting caught. You practically shrivelled into the couch, trying to disappear into the cushions as Sam let out a dramatic groan, turned on his heel, and slammed the door behind him like he’d just witnessed a crime.

Dean snorted. “Damn kid needs to learn to knock.”

You covered your face with both hands, mortified, still curled up in Dean’s arms as the aftershock of the interruption pulsed through you. “Dean,” you groaned, voice muffled behind your palms. “This is the communal room.”

Dean just shook his head, utterly unbothered, and gently peeled your hands away from your face. “Hey,” he murmured, eyes soft with amusement as he looked down at you. “You weren’t complainin’ a minute ago.”

You tried to glare at him, but it faltered when he leaned in and kissed your burning cheek, then your jaw, then your lips—slow and deep, like he wasn’t done with you. Not even close.

“Whose side are you on, sweetheart?” he hummed against your mouth.

You opened your mouth to retort, but it turned into a shaky breath when his hand slid down again, settling right over your belly with that same heavy, grounding pressure. Possessive. Reverent.

And then you felt him.

Still hard. Still inside you. Still twitching.

The heat flooded back like a wave, washing out the embarrassment and replacing it with a low, simmering ache. You shifted, breath catching as you clenched around him involuntarily.

Dean felt it too.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned, a crooked smile pulling at his lips. “Yeah... I’m definitely not done.”

And just like that, your argument disappeared. Along with any thought of Sam—or the damn chips.

You couldn’t help it.

Sam had become an unfortunate, unintended witness to this very new phase of your relationship with Dean—one that involved a whole lot more skin, a whole lot less shame, and a very inconvenient inability to keep your hands off each other.

Since finding out you were pregnant, something had shifted in him. Desire had always been a part of your relationship, but now… now it was constant. Insatiable. Like some primal instinct had flipped inside him. He touched you with a reverence that bordered on obsession. It wasn’t just sex anymore—it was possessive, protective, feral.

This wasn’t some generic “pregnancy kink.” No, this was Dean losing his mind because you were carrying his child. The thought alone seemed to short-circuit something in him.

And honestly? You were just as wrecked. Yes, you’d been mortified more than once—especially by Sam’s increasingly bad luck—but at the same time, it turned you on beyond belief. The way Dean made you feel, like you were the most beautiful, most desired woman in the world. It made your body hum.

Unfortunately for Sam, that devotion came with side effects.

Take a couple of mornings ago, when you were making pancakes, for instance. You’d opted for a pair of loose shorts despite the bunker’s steady chill, thanks to another hot flash, but it was enough to drive Dean out of his goddamn mind. Your body was changing—hips a little wider, breasts heavier, ass just a little more plush—and Dean worshipped every new curve like it was the first time he was seeing you.

He’d come up behind you at the stove, his hands spreading over your stomach with that now-familiar, possessive touch. His hips pressed into your backside, already hard, already needy. His mouth found your neck, and his fingers slipped beneath your waistband, teasing your soaked folds like he had all the time in the world.

You’d barely gasped his name when Sam walked in—right as Dean slid a thick finger inside you.

Poor bastard hadn’t even gotten to the coffee pot.

And then there was the library. After dinner. Dean, completely unprovoked, hauled you up onto the nearest table and sank to his knees, muttering about wanting ‘his dessert’. You’d barely managed to stifle your cries when Eileen walked in, book in hand, and promptly turned on her heel like she'd never been there.

You tried to be discreet. Truly. But Dean didn’t care. Hell, he seemed proud when someone caught a glimpse of just how thoroughly he worshipped you.

And as mortifying as it all was, deep down… You loved it.

You loved him.

This time in your life could’ve been scary. Lonely. Uncertain. But Dean had made it something else entirely. He made it intimate. Raw. Beautiful. He made you feel like a goddess, like you were his whole damn universe—and he wanted the world to know it.

So maybe Sam had to suffer through a few mental scars. Maybe Eileen was avoiding eye contact for a while.

But as Dean curled around you again on that couch, hand warm and protective on your belly, still deep inside you, his lips brushing against your cheek like he’d never get enough—

Yeah.

You figured it was a price worth paying.

AN: Okay, so this was a new one for me, I've never been pregnant so most of this is research or from my friend. Plus shout out to all you moms out there, I know this isn't entirely accurate, but if I had me a Dean like this 😮‍💨. Let me know what you thought, and again thank you for the ask @sir-thisisadndserver, I hope this is what you were hoping for ❤️

If you would like to be tagged in this series or my future works please respond to this >form< so I can add you to the character's you'd like 😊

Dean Winchester Tag List:

@bettystonewell , @nancymcl , @happyfxckinghorrors , @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter

@tbgfvfdcb @crooked-haven @chevroletdean @paganvamp @stoneyggirl2

@deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom @ladykitana90 @lyarr24 , @impala67rollingthroughtown

@jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @spnaquakindgdom @cevansbaby-dove @shadysoulangel

@piptoost @star-yawnznn @deansimpalababy @megara0224 @hobby27

@idontwannabehere78 @maddie0101 @kr804573 @shadysoulangel @mrs-nesmith

@zepskies @ohheyguyss @suckitands33 @ultimatecin73 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@arcannaa @aylacavebear @bobbdylann @jaredpadonlyyyy @waynes-multiverse

@impala67stellawinchester @youroldfashioned @bonbonnie88 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @bejeweledinterludes

[absolutedestinyapocalypsse]

When Harrow is very obviously grieving, (and also when he wants to gaslight her) John tells her to make soup about it, to focus on the little things, to take it day by day. When asked to help with the lobotomy, Ianthe tells Harrow that the worst is over- she's a lyctor now, and she should try and move forward instead of sticking herself permanently in limbo. These are not terrible pieces of advice to give a grieving person; if actually practiced, they might even be helpful. Except for Harrow, they are the absolute worst things you could possibly say.

None of what happened to her should have happened, of course she doesn't want to accept it and progress further into lyctorhood. Everything is terrifying and new to her, of course she won't find peace in "the little things". John is actively trying to fucking KILL HER, of course SOUP isn't going to help! Like obviously the general grief advice isn't gonna work for Harrow because she's in a psychological horror book and is being haunted and is grieving jesus christ herself, but also, does it really work that well ever? Does being told to move on actually ever in any circumstance help the person move on? Or does it just make them feel more broken, more inadequate, more lonely?

Sure, focusing on little things that give you joy and trying not to ruminate on the past are on paper productive ways to cope, but its also the LAST thing a grieving person actually wants to do. Telling someone to simply forget about what they went through and who they lost, to just focus on the boring and isolating minutae of everyday life instead of the world-ending tragedy they've experienced feels impossible. To do it would be like betraying yourself, and the people you lost.

Most of the book is Harrow knowing that certain things would probably make her feel better if she would just try, being told constantly that if she would just do x y or z, things would fall into place and she would be less broken. She doesn't even remember WHY she feels like this, but she does, and it's all-consuming. Lyctorhood is the scale by which her "normality" is measured, and she is failing SPECTACULARLY. She refuses to set aside Gideon's humanity and significance in her life to use her as a battery, and that makes her weak and a failure in the eyes of the other saints.

But by failing to move on, she ends up actually preserving (??? who actually knows man) Gideon's life. For the classic grief advice to not only be unhelpful to her personally also ACTIVELY MALICIOUS/ HARMFUL PLOT WISE is such a great 180 to me. Instead of a "grieving character comes to terms with loved one's death for the Greater Good and moves on because its the Right Thing To Do" narrative, we get a kind of bereavement revenge fantasy. Harrow's complete refusal to move on stops Gideon from actually fully dying. And she does makes soup, not to cope with the constant terror she's living under, but to EXPLODE her tormentor from the inside out. These things probably aren't "good" for Harrow, or for anyone dealing with grief. They do not make life easier for her, and they do not make her a lyctor, but they are honest and they are SO satisfying. Having the power to bring back the person you lost, even at great personal detriment and to explode everyone who hurt you with your mind is i think the perfect power for someone in mourning and i love that htn let Harrow have it. There is no greater good to be served, no larger moral about loss to be told. The objective is not to see Harrow heal from loss, it's to see her by sheer determination and force of will, refuse to fucking lose.

[mcflymemes]

THE MUMMY (1999) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

looks to me like you're on the wrong side of the river!

by the way... why did you kiss me?

it seemed like a good idea at the time.

that's called stealing, you know.

is it dangerous?

stop it! you'll kill them!

get me a glass of bourbon.

this just keeps getting better and better.

this door doesn't open.

who opened that chest?

i only want four!

the map! i forgot the map!

i think he's filthy, rude, a complete scoundrel. i don't like him one bit.

i guess we go home empty-handed... again.

look what i got.

i think you found something.

what exactly is this man in prison for?

you just got promoted.

you're with me on this one, right?

keep him busy.

we are in serious trouble.

this creature is the bringer of death.

you must not read from the book!

where are they taking him?

there's only one person i know that can possibly give us any answers.

can you look me in the eye and guarantee me that this isn't all some kind of flimflam?

i'm a very lonely man.

look at my library!

you're gonna get yours, [name]!

never did like camels.

what do you suppose killed him?

time to go.

take my hand, and i will spare your friends.

will you look at that?

do they know something we don't?

i need a new job.

have you no respect for the dead?

i've dreamt about this since i was a little girl.

you dream about dead guys?

patience is a virtue.

any last requests?

loosen the knot and let me go.

i don't think we need to know this.

ooh... that's gotta hurt.

you... i just don't get.

you probably won't live through it.

everybody else we've bumped into has died. why not you?

you're wondering... what is a place like me doing in a girl like this?

yeah, i was there.

can you swim?

of course we don't let him go!

you'll be dead when they do this.

i think i'll kill you.

think of my children.

i only gamble with my life, never my money.

i may not be an explorer or an adventurer, or a treasure-seeker or a gunfighter, but i am proud of what i am.

give me frogs! flies! locusts! anything but you!

compared to you, the other plagues were a joy.

i am so very sorry. it was an accident.

you are a catastrophe.

oh my god, i hate it when these things do that.

is he supposed to look like that?

of course i can swim, if the occasion calls for it.

now, because of you, we have failed.

you think this justifies the killing of innocent people?

what did you say?

i don't want to tell you.

let me get this straight.

you don't have any children.

you lied to me.

i lie to everybody.

what makes you so special?

sorry. didn't mean to scare you.

the only thing that scares me are your manners.

have you got any bright ideas?

i'm thinking. i'm thinking!

you'd better think of something fast.

what are we going to do?

wait here! i'll go get help!

i thought you said you didn't believe in all this fairy tales and hokum stuff.

forget it! we're out the door, we're down the hall, and we're gone!

i told you not to play around with that thing.

you heard the man. no mortal weeapons can kill this guy.

listen! we've got to do something!

is that my problem?

i appreciate you saving my life and all, but when i signed on, i agreed to take you out there and bring you back. end of job, end of story, contract terminated.

that's all i am to you? a contract?

you can either tag along with me or stay here and try to save the world.

do something!

you know, nasty little fellows such as yourself always get their comeuppance.

what's the challenge then?

rescue the damsel in distress, kill the bad guy, and save the world.

death is only the beginning.

why are you going back?

i'm going downstairs to get me a drink. you want something?

[theclaravoyant]

AN ~ short bucktommy angst/whump with a happy ending, coz i love torturing my boys. 8x07 spoilers and verrrrrry loosely insp by a still from 8x08

typing

Why would he type type type and not send anything?

The alarms blare and Buck throws his baking back in the oven and sprints downstairs, but his mind is elsewhere. This? This is all muscle memory at this point. His mind occupies itself with other things, wondering what exactly Tommy might have wanted to say.

Evan. No. Buck. God, he still hates it that he called him Buck.

Can we talk? Tommy always was a man of few words. Or maybe Buck is just a man of many. But what does 'can we talk' even mean? He'd be spiralling just as hard as with the silent disappearing bubble. It's better this way.

MARRIAGE, EVAN??

God, he's an idiot. A pathetic, clingy idiot. Even now he would kill for a second round, just to dig that knife in deeper. At least then maybe, he'd be able to pick up what he'd missed before; where exactly that big dimpled grin and soft eyes had turned to hard words and hidden pain. At least then, he'd be able to fix it.

Hen watches him with a knowing eye.

“Stay strong, Buck,” she reminds him as they pull up to the scene. “Head in the game.”

Buck nods. He drops his phone on the seat and packs it away to the back of his mind, as best he can. Maybe he'll get to whip out the jaws of life. They always make him feel better. Shake it off, Buckley, let's go.

He's the last one out of the engine, and he hits the ground already triaging the scene. His senses expand, cataloguing the vehicles, the passers-by, the direction and nature of the accident. Eddie and Bobby are getting a run-down from a uniformed police officer on scene and it happens a splt second before Buck's mind catches up.

“A silver-” he overhears - “oh-”

He can see it in his minds eye, almost feel it even as his own heart sinks; the way recognition sets into Eddie's face. And then horror. He looks further down the road, to a sight that's partially obstructed from Buck's view. Partially, but not so much that he doesn't start running toward it because he has a feeling he knows, he knows, he knows who it is.

Why would he type type type and not send anything?

“Buck-” Hen warns, reaching to grab him but she's already missed.

Buck knows he should be helping but his world is caving in. Bobby's barking commands but all he hears is a wordless echo. Ravi hustles the balloons and the jaws up to the worst hit of the vehicles and Chimney is already there; medkit tossed over the worst of the shattered glass as he kneels by the dangerously crushed window and tries to make contact with the person inside.

“Buck.” It's Eddie this time, blocking with his body as much as he can – and he can, even with the full force of Buck throwing himself forward - but even he can't stop the terrible, terrible knowing.

“TOMMY!”

The name rips out of his lungs, because it's the truck: it's Tommy's pride and joy. It's singing along in the passenger seat and Tommy's smiling – sometimes he joins in, even though he wouldn't otherwise care for Buck's taste. It's Tommy slinging a greasy towel over his shoulder and hitching himinto the truck bed and making out until they both can't breathe. It's spilling the salt from hot chips in there; it's shoulder to shoulder at the drive-ins; it's getting fucked into the seats; it's polishing and vacuuming just last week because he can't help with the engine for shit. He'd put a little thing of jellybeans in the cup holder after - like his old detailer used to do, just to be cute - and it hits him that that's what those little coloured smudges are, intermingled with the crushed glass littered across the road.

What if he's in trouble and he needs my help?

“Oh, God, Tommy.”

The howling turns to hopeless. Breathless. The fight evaporates right out of him and he collapses forward into Eddie's arms. Eddie's embrace is firm and steadying as he lowers them both as gently as he can manage to the curb. Buck closes his eyes, sapped of the strength to watch any more but cursed by the knowledge of what's still got to be happening. Hen and Chim will be extracting Tommy's bruised and broken body onto a backboard right about now, and then lifting him onto a gurney. They'll be doing CPR if he's lucky – and they are, he can hear it, so at least there's that.

Then it stops.

For a few, horrible seconds all he can hear is his own hammering heart. Eddie's ragged breathing. Footsteps. Bobby.

“Buck.”

It takes a second, for him to gather the courage to open his eyes and look up. Bobby's demeanour is solemn and serious, but there's a softness Buck recognises well. A lightness that promises things might just be okay, as he offers a hand to pull Buck up from the roadside.

“He's asking for you in the ambulance,” Bobby says, and there's just a flicker, just an iota of a smile as he urges - “Go.”

[estrellayluna]

In another life

Nanami Kento

Synopsis : You promised yourself that you wouldn’t have the same unfortunate fate that your mother had gone through with love. Until your whole world comes crumbling down discovering your husband’s infidelity. Through tears and heartbreak you recall your mothers last words.

(We all know he would never!!) (please check out link once you see it for visuals!!!)

One text message from an unsaved number. One simple message was the reason your whole world came crumbling down in just seconds.

It was vile. The photo. It seemed as if whoever took the photo was in a rush to capture it. A little blurred in some spots but you could immediately make out what it depicted.

Your husband, Nanami having his arms wrapped around a waist of another woman just steps away from his desk. Whoever the woman was, her head was slightly tilted looking up at him with a smile on her face. Arms loosely wrapped around his shoulder blades.

At a loss for words and seemingly unaware the breaths you were holding in, the sudden ache you felt in your chest was growing deeper. Tears forming just before multiple escaping your eyes.

You didn’t want to believe it, but how could you not? The moment you felt the ache in your chest you knew.

-

4 months earlier

The sounds of monitors and footsteps were faint outside the door of your mothers hospital room. The room’s television on low volume as you peel a bright colored orange.

It has been a while coming but your mothers health has been declining since the last attempt of hope with needed surgery. But unfortunately to no avail.

And as much as you wished for your mother to keep fighting she finally made the decision to leave this world in peace. No more mustering up the little strength she had left to the annoyance of appointments or the continuous failed improvements.

So you devoted your time to spend as much time with your mother as you could.

“How is Nanami doing (Y/N),” your mother asks in a soft voice while looking over to you “he hasn’t come along with you for the past 3 weeks or so. Is everything alright?”

Finally finished with peeling the orange and setting it down you smiled at her, “he’s doing fine mom, just busy at work these days. He actually got promoted up at his office job a few days ago.” You tell her with a smile on your face.

Your mother slightly gasps with joy, clasping your hands with yours she beams.

“I’m so happy to hear that, I’m sure the both of you will continue to live a nice peaceful life together. He’s a good man darling, I’ll be able to leave this world in peace knowing you’ll be well taken care of.”

You smile at her words, a pang of joy and sadness.

Your mother was a single mother raising you all on her own. Your father was in the picture up until the age 11. From then on his visits were some and then eventually no more.

Though you didn’t hate him, you grew up more focused on the fact of trying your best to be a good daughter. Not causing too much stress to your mother.

Your father was your mothers first and only love. Only as time passed by, he became unfaithful. Your mother immediately took action into trying to become the best mother she can be with the so little she had. You grew up to promise yourself you refuse to let the same happen to you. To not let this curse that your father casted upon your mother trickle down to you.

“(Y/N), do you want to know why I always called you my little star,” you mother brings up. you can tell she was growing tired some.

8:30 pm

Visiting hours will end soon.

You hum in response, smoothing out the blanket that lays just between you two.

“Because moths always look for light in the darkness. You are my light and star (Y/N). I will forever be grateful to have had you as my daughter.”

Before visiting hours came to an end your head falls onto her lap, tears streaming down as her hands strokes your hair.

-

Moths look for the light in the darkness

Everything you had planned for, promised yourself and your mother was eradicated. You wanted to scream. To make a mess of everything in this home you two shared.

But you can only frown at the thought of your mother disapproving those actions.

You had no idea what to do.

More importantly, what to do with the hidden pregnancy test you tucked away inside your side of the dresser.

Wiping your tears away, headed towards your shared room you look for the test.

You tried to recall when it must have all changed. Was it when Nanami was promoted at work that he was moved to the upper level of the office building?

You recall the first couple of times you stopped by to deliver him lunch that he had forgotten.

The atmosphere was not as welcoming as his previous position. You had felt out of place when just simply asking for your husband at the front desk.

Rummaging through your belongings looking for the damn test you heard the front door open to your apartment.

8:45 pm

Though it was somewhat late, you hadn’t expect him to arrive just yet.

You froze, not sure of anything anymore.

A part of you wanted to confront him, and the other part of you just wanted to be comforted, to be told it was a fake. Absolutely anything else other than being told it was true.

Is this the end?

Finally spotting the pregnancy test you sat down in the corner of the king size bed. Holding the pregnancy test close to you, but hidden from anyone else’s view.

You hadn’t bothered to put all the clothing that fell from your frantic digging back inside.

So when Nanami walked in your shared bedroom, it was the first thing he saw.

“What the hell happened in here?” Nanami sighed placing his briefcase aside the room.

Nanami noticed your lack on response and the fact you weren’t facing him.

“I didn’t intend to have you find out like this (Y/N),” your eyes slightly widen in shock. Nanami brought his left hand to sooth the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t know who must have sent that photo to you. And I don’t intend to let that person have the satisfaction of knowing it actually got to you. Though I do have a few people in mind.” Nanami headed towards the closet to find a more comfortable to change into.

If you didn’t think your heart was beating, his lack of empathy causes your heart to break into a million pieces.

How could he be so calm about this..

“Why Nanami,” your voice trembles, your heart beating faster than ever “what caused this to happen?”

Nanami now finally walked towards you, trying to clasp your hands into yours you refuse to budge. The test tightly protected in your hands unbeknownst to him.

Nanami sighs again with a tight stern look on his face. Knowing there’s no longer any chance you’ll be able to come back from it all.

“When your mother passed away you became a shell of yourself (Y/N). It was easy in the beginning to be there for you. But it eventually turned into mindless sex as an escape for you. I did not want to hurt your decisions into avoiding the reality of losing your mother. If you hadn’t ignored your grief,” Nanami continues while taking off his glasses and watch setting them aside, glancing at your reflection at the mirror in front of him. Your eyes finally met “perhaps I could have better helped you understand (Y/N).”

“Who is she? Is she a coworker of yours?” At Nanamis confession, you felt numb. All the anger and sadness you felt dissipated. You wanted nothing more now than to go to sleep and dream of your mom comforting you and feel her hand stroke your hair again even for a mere moment inside your unconscious mind.

“Her name is Kuina. She was employed just a month into when your mother passed,” Nanami turned around to face you, leaning against the drawer head turned slightly down, arms crossed “I didn’t think I would have ever been one to end up doing such a thing (Y/N). I’m sorry.”

‘I’m sorry’

Nanami walked out into the living room closing the door behind him.

-

6 years ago

“Mom are you alright?” Walking into your moms room seeing her working on paper work for your grandmother. Gathering information about her as needed for the funeral home to work on her death certificate.

Your mom looked frantic and tired. Noting the atmosphere felt different, “hey mom, where’s Karube?” Your mom looked up at you putting up a brave face.

“Karube and I are no longer together (Y/N). He and I just realized we weren’t a match really. No need to worry.”

-

Karube ended up cheating on my mother around the same time my grandmother passed away.

Not only did you fail in keeping that promise you made yourself all those years ago.

You failed your mom too.

Hearing the faint sounds of the television being turned on just outside the living room, you tried your best to muffle your cries as it all eventually settled inside of you.

‘You were my light in times of darkness’

Hugging yourself to sleep, it didn’t take long as your cries settled you down.

-

It’s been a week since everything was brought to light. And just 3 days ago you were met with a few documents settled on the main wooden table of the home.

Divorce papers

You sigh with stress laced within. You avoided even looking through everything until the night before your first appointment with your doctor.

Frantically filing everything down, deciding on stopping by Nanamis office before heading to your doctors to drop off the paperwork.

-

Your walk to Nanamis workplace wasn’t how it was before. Your gentle smiles while walking is now replaced by a neutral toned face. The warmth of the sun is no longer a lovely feeling but a sticky hot feeling all over your body.

You hated to be a burden at such a young age. That night, after Nanamis confession you held out on telling him.

Guilt swept over you as you realized how tragic it all is.

This baby wasn’t due to the love you both have for each other, at least not anymore. It’s due to your wanting to escape from your grief.

Oh how your mother would be saddened.

-

Walking up to Nanamis now private office, trying your best to keep your head held high. You noticed that some look over at you knowing the gossip that had gone around. And others who seem to not care at all. You were silently grateful for the few.

Reaching his office, you knocked twice. Looking over your shoulder to see few of his fellow colleagues quickly look away from you as if they weren’t popping their eyes at the front seat view they had.

You let yourself in once you heard an approval from the other side.

Whispers soon ensued as the door closed behind you.

Nanami was looking over paperwork at his desk, eyebrows furrowed in whatever god knows what he deals with nowadays.

“I came to drop off the divorce paper work Kento.” Stating as you walk up his desk, your soft footsteps and his quick writing with pen hitting his paper being the silence breaker between the two of you.

Nanami drops his pen on his desk and looks up at you.

The tall windows of his office gently illuminated your face, earrings softly shimmering and pieces of your hair fall front of your face framing a delicate balance to your face.

‘You became a shell of yourself’

You didn’t try to improve your appearance just for him. Matter of fact you did it for yourself. You refused to let his words eat your self conscious.

Plus, your mother always told you how important it is to be presentable to the public. Not for the approval of others but for your own self.

Handing him the folder, your hands softly brush against each others.

Keeping your calm composure, you stood straight ready to turn around and leave.

“(Y/N)-“ Nanami starts but you had cut him off.

“I plan to leave the apartment soon Kento. If approved in just days time, you need not worry about me being in that place anymore,” you ushered as to turn around once again “have a good day Kento.”

Pushing his office doors to open and leave this place once and for all, you open the doors to Kuina waiting just outside the doors.

You should have known his office colleagues were just as wanting to know what must have been discussed behind the closed doors.

As your eyes met Kuina’s, all you had left in you was a smile.

Just as the doors of his office completely closed, Nanami caught a glance at the exchange.

Deep down inside he knew he had caused enough pain when all you did was smile at her.

-

As the elevator descends to the lower floors of the building it stopped just below the floor that Nanami once was.

As people come in and go, a tall man with white hair and circular dark navy shades shuffled his way to your side as the elevator doors close descending back down once again.

Wood scents, with a note of eucalyptus

You’re familiar with this scent of the man standing next to you. It’s nothing new. Besides you’re fond of the scent. Nothing extreme from what you’ve come across before. Men and their obnoxious amount of sprays.

So you weren’t so sure as to why the man’s scent next to you caused you to almost gag out loud inside the cramp elevator.

Catching your action swiftly your hand goes up to cover your mouth, catching the attention of the tall white haired man.

Looking down at you he asks “you alright miss?”

The elevator finally opens to the first floor and you quickly nod as you try to quickly get out.

“Woah I’m sorry! Was it my doing? Do I smell bad today?” The man looks in disbelief and quite embarrassed.

“No no no,” you try to apologize for your actions “it was actually just me! Im sensitive to smells at the moment.” You tried to explain in embarrassment.

As people continue to pass by the man shyly smile at you, his cheeks turned slightly blushed.

“I apologize then Miss…” he trails off, smiling back once again you introduced yourself “(Y/N) (L/N).”

“Nice to meet you (L/N), I’m Gojo Satoru.”

12:44 pm

My appointment is soon, but almost gagging earlier has given me anxiety. What if I can’t make it in time?

It was like if the man you just met sense your urgency and asked if things are alright.

“Oh thank you for the offer, but I’m fine I can go on my own!” You exclaimed as you start to walk towards the front entrance.

The white haired man caught up to you once again before beaming at you with a flashy smile of his

“No worries (L/N), I don’t mind!”

Looking down at the time you realized perhaps it would be best. You were anxious all week once you made your appointment for the doctors.

Looking around your surroundings before finally agreeing, you smiled back up at him thanking him.

You thought you’d follow him to the parking structure but his car was pulled up by the valet.

As the valet driver approached to open your door, Gojo reassured him letting himself open the door for you. Thanking him before settling inside his car, he was walking over to the drivers side.

Gojo looked up feeling a stare burn behind him, before driving away.

-

Y’all idk where this one is going either y’all were supposed to die & be sad.

Part 2? Idk either

(Not proofread I’ve been typing 3 hours straight.)

[rubyrose143]

Hirano and Kagiura

„To all the haters out there, I just wanna say, if you’re jealous then just go cry about it“ - Amy Flamy

I wanted to do this thread now to end the forced hate towards hrkg.

So lean back and enjoy cause it’s gonna be MUCH 😉 (I’m their lawyer haha)

some information before I start:

Hirano and Kagiura are two roommates who live in the same dormitory and attend the same school. Hirano is one year older and on the disciplinary committee and Kagi is on the basketball team.

Let’s start 😁

We all know Hirano and Kagiura have a special bond since the first time they met! Kagi is really fond of Hirano and Hirano is really attached to Kagi.

Both are really direct and stubborn people, nice and caring but also loud and straight forward! But even when there are points where they are really similar, there are things where they aren’t similar, at all. In fact how they love a person is different and that’s what I’m going to show you.

„Hirano doesn’t love Kagi and never will, because he doesn’t feel romantic/ intimate feelings towards him. He does that to satisfy Kagiura“

Reeeeeeeaaaaallllllyyy? Wow this is interesting. So love means intimacy?Hmm… I seee.

So Kagiura didn’t love Hirano before the temple too because he didn’t had the urge to kiss him nor to touch him? Miyano didn’t like Sasaki too because he didn’t know if kissing was okay?

Love is something complex, something big and complicated. Love doesn’t mean: „Crush, blush, date, marry, sex, children“

No. If you love someone you want to be with them, you care about them, you miss them, you want to help them, support them in every little situation.

And both Hirano AND Kagi care about each other more than anyone else

Hirano always cared about Kagi, thinking about if he ate or practiced, if he’s fine and not overworking himself. 

After the confession where he turned him down, even THEN he cared about his feelings, thinking if it’s okay to wear the earrings he has gotten from his kouhai. 

He lets them try things out (the ten seconds) to see if he can see him as a potential partner 

And the courage to say that Kagi forces Hirano to do thing he doesn’t want is just straight up absurd. Kagi always sticks to the line and never breaks his boundaries.. Even when he did cross the line even a little, he felt guilty and apologized immediately, thinking about it for days! And Hirano hates it when Kagi avoids him and TELLS him to do it (madly… and loud…)

And Hirano doing this all to satisfy Kagiura because he could never love him is also just stupid. When Miyano wanted time to see if he can see Sasaki as a romantic partner, did we say he won’t love Sasaki? No… but fine let’s say Hirano and Kagi won’t get together cause why not? (sigh) 

How Niibashi said, Hirano is on his journey to fall in love. He is realizing things like, he does like Kagiura and he doesn’t dislike touching (if he initiates it) he wasn’t this far few chapters ago. Hirano never had thoughts about romantic relationships and people are all stereotypical about romance. Let the boy experience his own emotions. If he doesn’t like things, that’s fine, if he does like things that’s fine too. But stop being so pushy and try to make everything about stereotypes. Sensei‘s work was never like that. She doesn’t even like to use things like Uke and seme, she writes a story about boys who love each other. And isn’t that why we read this? So why make everything negative just because you don’t like it. If you don’t like hrkg or ssmy, don’t read it and don’t take the joy of the people who do love it.

And also, Kagi is right, sometimes love isn’t pink and beautiful, sometimes it hurts

Because love is sometimes suffering, longing, guilt and missing. 

And I use the words ‚sometimes‘ really often because it’s different for every couple and pair all around the world. Everyone loves different! Just because hrkg‘s relationship is like that, doesn’t mean ssmy‘s is like that. Just because ssmy‘s relationship is like that, doesn’t mean hrkg‘s relationship is like that (And both couples are healthy and perfect in their own ways)

Hirano and Kagiura have a great relationship 

Supporting each other

Caring about each other

missing each other

thinking about each other

appreciating each other

And that’s what you call ‚love‘. It’s a pure feeling. Intimacy comes muuuuchhhhhh later (sometimes). We don’t know if Hirano will be ready in one chapter, in five chapters or in fifteen chapters! And that’s not our problem anyway. 

How Kagiura said, for him love means wanting to be with someone more than anyone else, and Hirano feels the same way. 

Kagiura is faster in wanting things cause he had a previous relationship where he didn’t want any of this so he can compare both feelings.

So he is sure this one has to be Love.

.

.

.

In the end they care about each other more than anyone else. Support each other more than anyone else.

Enjoy being with each other more than with anyone else.

And love each other more than anyone else, cause they are their favorite/ most important persons in each others life.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is the story of Hirano and Kagiura which still has a looooong way to go.

And we fans are always gonna be here no matter what! So for all the people who still hate and comment, please, go read Hirano to Kagiura AND Sasaki to Miyano again, thanks!

Thanks for reading this! I worked on this for many days! Let’s spread this and make the haters go away! 💚💛

[fellulahh]

Do you have dad Beel headcanons?

Nope but I do now!

Beel as a Dad HCs

- he won’t go anywhere without the baby carrier. Refuses to ever use a pram because why would he when he can just have the little bub in front of him the whole time?

- has to “taste test” every food the baby tries

- “MC I think we should have another baby” “Beel I literally only gave birth ten days ago”

- always looks after MC and does things for her “from Beel and the baby” (I.e makes breakfast in bed)

- talks to the baby as if they can understand him. Has full blown conversations. “Look, your uncle Satan has come to see you!” “Doesn’t your Mummy look beautiful?”

- feels so proud when the bub finishes all of their food

- let’s the baby sleep on his chest when it’s nap time

- nap time ends up being his favourite time of the day because of that

- tries to tell bedtime stories but forgets the plot so just makes it’s up as he goes (most of the time it turns into the story of how he met MC)

- whenever somebody else holds the baby, he sits there really impatient because that’s his baby, he wants to hold him/her!

- gets really sad whenever the baby cries

- always compliments MC and tells them what a great parent they are

- he can’t even begin to think about his life before becoming a father. He couldn’t imagine a world without his little bundle of joy

- when the baby grows up into a toddler, he ditches the baby carrier and just carries the toddler on his shoulders everywhere

- always takes the toddler away when the brothers are arguing because he doesn’t want them growing up surrounded by hatred

- thanks MC every day for making him a Dad

[ledesaid]

A family wish ⚡⚡

A Halloween wish is something that only certain magical beings know how to harness and conjure… Here we have Billy Batson, for example, standing in the middle of the Salem woods with a cloak that hides him from the curious eye of other beings. He's excited because today is the day, and he doesn't want to waste his time while stitching with spider silk everything that's in his Superman lunchbox. It's his fourth Halloween party, but it's the first one he truly feels he's enjoying. It's like Christmas! But Billy thinks it's a hundred times better because of what he's going to get. That's why he has been diligently collecting everything necessary… and he's had an audience on several occasions:

—Excuse me, sir, I'm just going to take a bit of your hair… or your cape?—

Immediately, Captain Marvel seems to debate whether to use his blunt scissors on the hair or cape. He gets a piece of cape from one of his current villains. Don't let his slender appearance or clever words fool you because he's determined. The toad heads and Gorgon eyes in his magical bag confirm it. And let's not talk about his recently added occultist cape, it's the most normal thing he has so far and really shouldn't be the case.

Can someone please tell Billy that he shouldn't collect DNA or cut clothes from every magical entity he encounters?!

Oh, and no one in the League dares to get involved in the Captain's magical mysteries. Flash is still confused by his last explanation of Groundhog Day and his collection of hair from… better not know, Flash didn't want to know. But now he does. The League is worried because they heard the captain politely asking for a piece of hair from Zatanna and playing poker with Constantine until he won. The Englishman argued with the captain to find out what he was up to, but…

—I already have the flesh, I just need something cursed to finish… Your blood would be very useful!—

Constantine feels highly offended, yes he does, but the term flattered doesn't quite fit in his head, and let's not talk about "the flesh". He just wants to go home and it doesn't seem like Captain Marvel is going to give in.

—It's cursed, but it's not mine, have fun!—

He gives Billy a bottle of wine and ends the discussion. Captain Marvel jumps and celebrates like a child when he smells the bottle's contents, undoubtedly very cursed. This last event brings us back to Billy in the middle of the Salem graves, pouring the blood wine onto the tangled hair and fabric that has taken a feline shape.

—Come to me!— he yells energetically. —I order you!— His fingers sparkle with tiny lightning bolts.

His little altar sparkled among the flames of the candles.

—Live!— The lightning bolts increase and Billy takes the tangle of hair in his hands.

The small ball of fur quickly writhes in his grip and begins to transform into something more than it originally was.

—Wake up, Tawny!—

And that's it, a baby tiger gives its first roar, more of a meow, but Billy hugs it with joy.

—Yes! It's alive! It's alive!— exclaims Billy, recalling Dr. Frankenstein's words.

With all the joy in the world, an eleven-year-old boy celebrates having created his first familiar. On November first, the Captain takes his little friend to the Watchtower.

—Guys, look what I did last night! Isn't it cute? Look, Zatanna, its little black stripes are as beautiful as your hair!—

[queerprayers]

What do you do when you are so overwhelmed with everything going on in the world right now? How do you not slip into despondency?

Hello, beloved. I'm glad you're here. I'm so often asking this of myself, so here's how I've found a way through/forward. It's not simple or easy, but I made it into a numbered list anyway. I know I'm throwing a lot at you (and myself)—but to be fair, you asked a big question. Take what's right for you and leave the bits that aren't—hopefully someone else can take them.

Know and honor why you're feeling all of this. You're present in this world. You're aware of the pain, you're keeping up with the change. And you care, about your own life and others'. These are all such blessings. Love hurts because love reaches out and suffers with the world. The modern world is so big, constant communication feeding us every tragedy from everywhere all at once. But we have the same amount of love as humans have ever had—of course it's getting stretched. Sometimes I barely have enough mental processing for every member of my family, their pain and joy. Give yourself grace to feel it all, and honor the parts of you that can't bear brokenness, that can't process everything. It's because you're trying to do it all justice. 

Root yourself in the world. Remember why you care about it. You need to be praying, reading, cooking, going outside, singing, hanging art on the walls. It can seem cheesy or inconsequential or even inappropriate in the face of tragedy but you have to hold on to life. You have to stay. You're overwhelmed because you're stretched, trying to care about it all—you need places to come back to. You must find what nothing can ever take from you, while cherishing what is fragile. Fascism rises, war comes, sacrifice calls, life is threatened—history rises and falls. And when it does, you must have a life (literally and figuratively) to lose. Don't let it find you empty. Don't do the devil's work for him. Don't come to the end of the road and discover there is nothing worth carrying a cross for.

You're not gonna save the world. You're not (statistically) a world leader or a billionaire. You're (probably) not someone who will end up in a textbook. But you are gonna do something real to save your little piece of the world. Your piece, your own life, what you can see, the people you can touch—that's what you've been given. And you need to feel yourself doing something real about it. A food bank, a sick neighbor, a garden, a support group. Your brain was not made for the Internet (although wonderful work can be done on it). Your hands need to feel the world you're saving, touch the world you're rooting yourself in. Trusting hope is built from seeing something change—not just knowing theoretically. You need to watch a seed grow into a flower, or a belly get fed, or a baby learn to walk. Participate in bigger things, yes. I'm not saying close yourself off. But I am saying you need to commit yourself to stopping war and fixing a hole in the sidewalk at the city council meeting. One of those you can see end in your lifetime (even if it takes a lifetime), and that's the only way you're gonna have hope to work at the other one. Proving your small hopes right (and noticing when they're fulfilled) will ground your bigger ones.

Hope (the emotion) comes and goes, like all emotions. Emotions can be cultivated and worked through, but not controlled. If we depend on a feeling for the work of love, we are at the mercy of brain chemistry and circumstance. But hope is also a skill, a practice. You need to make hope something you do. Make it something overwhelm and despondency cannot crush. Faith, hope, and love are put together in the Bible. They're feelings, experiences—and beautiful ones. But when they go deeper, that's when they save us. Pray even when belief wavers. Care for someone across the ups and downs of relationships. Faith without works is dead—and so, too, love and hope. Or, from a different perspective, faith, hope, and love are themselves works. My favorite bit of self-esteem advice is to think of what I would do if I loved myself—and then do that. It's a fake it till you make it type of advice, but it's also a practical way to do self-esteem, regardless of temporary states of mind. I'm gonna bring that advice here, to hope. What would you do if you had hope, if you believed, if you weren't slipping away? This is the road forward. 

You may have heard the Tolkien quote about deciding what to do with the time that is given to us. This is often interpreted as a life-is-short quote, but I'm gonna put it in context. "I wish it need not have happened in my time." It: corrupt government, mass deportations, police violence, lost human rights, climate destruction. I want to ask, couldn't I have lived in a century with less of it all? But "so do all who live to see such times"—because there have always been such times. And "it is not for [us] to decide" which tragedies our time faces. What is for us to decide? "What to do with the time that is given us." The time, the century, the piece of history. So do something with this time, knowing that you are not the first and will not be the last to be given such evil. There's a post that goes: millions of people lived full lives during the period we now refer to as the Fall of the Roman Empire. I live in a falling empire—or at least, it certainly seems that way, and in my best moments I hope it falls. I did not choose to be given this time, but I was. For everything there is a season, and you may feel uniquely overwhelmed by ours. But this gives evil too much credit. This puts us in the same boat as the people who are constantly coming up with reasons why each current event is the apocalypse. We're not special. The Flood is in the first book of the Bible. Every person who has ever thought the world was ending has been wrong. You're not gonna be the one who's right about it—so take your time, stare it in the face, and carry the ring to Mordor, though you do not know the way (or whatever less nerdy extended metaphor you'd prefer).

It's not on you to be not-overwhelmed all the time, to never slip into despondency. You are an integral part of the world, but not the center, not the only part. Hope gets passed around. On days when you can't move from hopelessness, look to others' movement. Mr. Rogers' mother responded to scary news by telling him, "Look for the helpers." When we're not children anymore, we must be the helpers—but in moments of weakness or uncertainty, return to that child in you, who needs to find the firefighter in the background of the picture of a burning building. You may have smoke in your lungs today. As long as there's one person still breathing, we have a chance. It's not all on your shoulders. When we understand this, overwhelm or despondency aren't the end of the world. They're simply (and painfully) moments of understandable emotion.

To be clear, every single one of these points is something I've failed at. I don't know your personal beliefs, of course, but I will give you the (well, one possible) Christian answer: We all fall short of the glory of God. Christianity is not a practical or utilitarian religion. We aren't given achievable or logical instructions. Pacifism is not an intelligent or safe choice. Loving your enemy is ridiculous and dangerous. Even loving your neighbor is difficult and frustrating. We're given what we're given not because we can just go and do it—but because we must believe in it, live toward it. Christian hope is not optimism or escapism or manifestation. It is not even a provable phenomenon. It is, as C.S. Lewis refers to it, a theological virtue. We know things don't always work out, that civilizations fall. But for perhaps inexplicable reasons, we believe that it is all in the hands of a God that entered time to suffer through that with us. And that Jesus carries the cross that we cannot. 

In yoga, we refer to a "beginner's mindset"—practicing without our preconceived ideas, entering a pose as if it were the first time. If this were your first moment of belief, how would you respond? What if death did not have the final say? What if what is not logical or practical or achievable is nonetheless our calling? Start over. You've already tried the familiar despair. You need something new.

My last instruction to you (and myself, and all of us), is, in the words of St. Peter, to receive new birth in a living hope. The good news—the gospel—is that you don't have to prove things will get better or have a plan to fix a problem or be able to process it all. I've given you some practical ways to continue, and we do need those, but at the end of the day there is something bigger, which is that every bit of love you put into those practical ways is part of Love. 

We pray that the cup passes from our lips, but if we must, we drink. The only way we don't choke on it, don't drown in it, is to be born again from above—and I don't say that in the evangelical way, but in the Jesus way. Barbara Brown Taylor wrote in Holy Envy, "The greatest gift of my second birth . . . was being reunited with my mother—not the first one . . . —but the second one, who bore me from above. . . . If I am born of her, she is my mother. If I am not born of her, she may yet return to me." Hope is a fruit of the Spirit. Birth is painful and jarring and the world is cold. But there is another birth, one where hope lives, and our mother will always return. 

The world may not have the hope you're looking for—which is a real and painful experience, and I do not seek to dismiss that. But when the time that has been given to us is too much to even look at, we need to root ourselves not just in this world, but in the world to come. We have hope because it's something we do, something others give us, something we find little ways to trust in. We have Hope because the world has been overcome. So love it, live in it, die for it. But don't let it convince you that evil is all there is. You know better than that. 

One last thing: Despair in me is so often fear. I shut down because I am afraid of what it would mean to hope, what it would mean for it all to matter, what it would mean to actually believe what I say I believe. I will leave you with the first prayer in Justin McRoberts' and Scott Erickson's Prayer: Forty Days of Practice:

May love be stronger in me than the fear of the pain that comes with caring.

<3 Johanna

[the-peak-legend-of-first-gen]

HELLOOOO okay so. I know this is a weird request, so feel free to decline at any time. But…

Can I request a break up scenario with Gun and reader? Like reader has known him since they were kids because family and they had to get married eventually and that stuff. But reader lived her own life after gunny went to korea and meets him only a handful of times since she studies abroad? And its like no secret that gun was involved w other women. I hope i explained that well enough. Sorry if it’s too much tho! You can always just ignore it :P

With much appreciation and Love

~T

Hi ♡ no its not a weird request but thank you for requesting and trusting me to write this. Hope you enjoy and if you feel there is somewhere I lack or need to work upon feel free to tell✨️

Laughter and giggles of small children echoed through the air. Shintaro kept a watchful eye, noticing how well the young master and you got along. How could he be wrong, after all? He had carefully arranged the match, and so far, everything seemed to be going just fine — or so he supposed.

"Gun, throw that ball toward me!" you commanded.He looked at you, then threw the ball with full force. You stumbled back a little but managed to catch it nonetheless.Your lady-in-waiting rushed over immediately, her face stern."Young miss, you shouldn’t be playing such rough games, especially with your future husband. It’s not good for the [Clan Name]'s reputation."

"Future what?" you giggled with a toothy grin before darting off."Let’s go!" you shouted to Gun, who, surprisingly, followed you.

But before you could get too far, Shintaro stepped between you two.His towering stature and menacing face frightened you a little, so you instinctively clung to Gun’s kimono sleeve. In response, Shintaro handed you something odd — a traditional toy, a ball attached to a string that had to land perfectly into a cup.

"Interesting..." you murmured.Just like that, the two of you spent hours playing, competing to see who could get the most wins, carefree and young.

That night, a loud slap shook the household — and you. You were only just beginning to understand the violent ways of the Yakuza world, but what shook you even more was what followed: Gun barely played with you after that, no matter how much you cried or threw tantrums.

Haruto would play with you sometimes, but no one wanted to be near Gun anymore.And little did you know — that was only the end of the beginning, the first step in how he would slowly but surely drift away from you.

🥀

You were starting to understand what it meant to be bonded with Gun — he wasn’t just the future hope of the Yamakazi clan, but regrettably, your would-be husband.

The thought made your stomach churn in the worst way possible.Come on, you were only in middle school! That actor you saw in the movies was way more handsome, and he definitely knew how to treat a lady right.

"Should we go for ice cream?" you asked him one day.

"No. I have work to do," he replied curtly.

Work this, work that. Mother said this, Mother said that. Father will be pleased, Father will decide.

That was all that ever went on inside his head.

"Just today, please!"

He observed you for a long moment, a sigh escaping his lips."Fine," he said at last.

You jumped with joy, your eyes sparkling.

Gun stared, confused. Why were you so happy? It was just ice cream. What had he done to make you react like this? Where were the grand efforts?

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt your small hand slipping into his.This isn’t so bad, he thought, strangely at peace

."Why are you so happy, dumbass?" he asked.

"Oh, because you finally agreed to go somewhere with me!" you said, grinning.

"That's it?"

"Yeah! And don’t forget — I’m getting free ice cream!"

"What free ice cream?"

"You’re paying, of course," you teased, sticking out your tongue.

Maybe this was what family was supposed to feel like.He tucked the thought away into a quiet, hidden corner of his heart.

Who cares, anyway?

But he did care — when he saw that tiny smile on your lips, when he noticed how his shoulders relaxed around you, when he realized he hadn’t clenched his fists in a long while.

Who cares? You did.

And you cared when that idiot — himself — left for another country.You cried not because of him, but because of what it meant for the future.Where had he gone? Would he be safe?

Who cared?Did you care?He wasn’t around anymore, but he hoped you were safe. He hoped your clan aligned with the right faction. He hoped you would marry —Who cared?---

🥀

"Idiot! You don’t know I’m allergic to these!" you yelled, throwing the chocolates at him. He dodged them casually."I’ll bring something else next time," he shrugged.

And true to his word, when he visited your university, he brought exactly what you liked — the right flavor, the right brand, the right packaging.You threw your arms around him, clinging like a koala, and he instinctively held you by the waist.

But something felt... off.

The scent clinging to him wasn’t his.You knew he slept around. It was normal in your world, accepted even — but still, the heart wants what the heart wants.

"So, what were you doing before you came here? Did you visit the places I told you about?"

"I wanted to explore them with you," he replied.

Your heart eased — but not entirely.

"Are you still sleeping around?" you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

He was caught off guard for a second but regained his composure quickly.

"None of your business," he said flatly.

"It is my business," you retorted.

"We’re engaged, and we’ll marry soon. I do have a say."

His soulless eyes seemed to pierce right through you."And what is your say?"

"Stop it," you said firmly.Not a plea. Not a request. A command.

Whether he would listen or not, only time would tell.

When you got intimate, he wasn’t as rough as you had expected.There was a delicacy to the way he touched you, held you.But your mind wandered — was this how he treated others too?

Shouldn’t this tenderness be something only the two of you shared?

It wasn’t just that. His infrequent calls and texts had started gnawing at you.You felt like you were overthinking, but you weren't — and every time you tried to bring it up, Gun brushed you off.

"You have too much free time to think about nonsense," he said.

Instead of communicating like a mature couple, he would resort to what he knew best — showing his devotion in bed, claiming every inch of you as his.And even though he gave you his body, your doubts never truly went away.

His devotion was laser-focused elsewhere — on Charles Choi.

So you decided to do what was best — not just for yourself, but for him too.

🥀

"It’s not working," you said.

"We’ve hit a wall," you said.

For the first time, Gun truly saw you.

Not the cute, energetic girl from the playground — but a devastatingly beautiful woman.It wasn't your curves or your skin that he noticed — it was your spirit.

The same commanding, boisterous spirit, wanting what you wanted, even if it went against tradition.

Despite everything, you were willing to do the unthinkable — to leave.

Maybe if he had been different, if he had given loyalty to you and not just Charles Choi, things could have been salvaged.

Maybe.

But it was too late."Well, if that’s what you want," he said. "It’s fine, I guess.

Who cares, right?

No more Goo ogling at you.

No more international trips.

No more stupid dates and boring occasions.

Your safety and well-being — none of his concern anymore.

So why did he feel like his chest was caving in?

When he finally said, "It’s fine. I understand," his tongue felt heavy like lead.

When you kissed him for the last time, tears burning your cheeks, he tasted the salt of your heartbreak.

When he saw your retreating figure disappearing from his life — he felt it.

He cared.In his own way.

Maybe not the way you wanted.

Maybe not enough.

You two were collapsing binary stars — once brilliant, now destined to destroy each other.

But he cared.

And he loved you and that's why he had to leave.

So maybe in another universe you two care openly, shamelessly without any burdens or doubts?

[bomber-grl]

Dating headcanons!! (Ftm reader edition)

Pairing(s): Characters x FtM!Reader

Characters(s): Will Solace, Leo Valdez, Nico Di Angelo

Asked for either or, you shall get all

Will Solace

Will solace the man that you are

Honestly is the best person to talk to about your identity and everything

Most likely to buy you an endearingly cringey cake when you come out to him (if you haven’t already)

Alongside the horrendous trans merch he can get his hands on

That you still choose to wear despite being “disgusted”

Anyways

Will is always ready to have those heartfelt and serious talks when you need them most

He’s definitely the most validating person in the room

Like seriously I cannot stress this enough

He’s always taking you to spaces where you’d feel safe and if he can’t find any- he’d make them

Other words for saying he’d be more than happy to be your safe space

Your progress or journey with your identity is one that Will is more than happy to experience with you

Even if you end up lashing out or getting frustrated- he’d be there to ground you and help calm you down

ESPECIALLY then

Even little moments of offense or hurt from others can be taken by Will and made into references to weird inside jokes

- ones that you have to keep telling him to stop making and then he continues for the pure joy of seeing you shake your head knowingly

Also if you’re on t (injection) then he’d be more than happy to help you out

Saying that as someone who’s ok around needles, but if I had to give myself a shot

Rip

Just ask your sunshine medic-at-16 bf to help you out

Because of course everyone has one of those

Also would and has scolded you if you keep your binder on for more time than you’re supposed to

You’re already running on thin ice with all the physical action demigods go through per day

I can only imagine

Yknow maybe it could serve as a sign to go schedule that top surgery appointment /hj

Hj Cuz of the state of the real world

Anyway

Leo Valdez

Honestly did not know you were trans at all when you first met (if you’ve already transitioned or not- he’s a block head)

Neither did he ever consider you as romantic partner for the very reason that you’re a guy

(Just only ever considered girls)

And yet here we are

Dating Leo is honestly just the average experience of any person

Chaotic, fun, and also dealing with the crippling traumas demigod life has offered you and refused to acknowledge when you did not want it

Which I guess could include you being trans depending on your experience

Whether you pass or not is something else and regardless you’ve faced discrimination or at least some sort of fear when revealing at one point or another to others

Which you luckily don’t encounter all that much at camp

(Considering the zest fest camp half blood is)

Let say you’re just transitioning and decide to tell Leo

He’s immediately talking about having your back and willing to listen to your new pronouns and new name (if you’d like one)

He’d be a bit awkward but not because of what’s going on rather because he uses humor all the time and refuses to make a joke out of this one serious thing

Also ☝️

He’d be the best person on this list about making you feel seen bro I’m not even exaggerating

(Idk the others seem pretty good too)

Leo and being invisible or last choice go hand in hand so the last thing he’d ever want you or anyone he loves feel- is feel unimportant

He’d want to validate your identity and make sure you’re comfortable enough to be your truest self around him

Which is honestly better than anything he could ask for

Conflicting feeling and situations are bound to arise

Whether about yourself, others or just anything really

Just talk to Leo because if not he’ll literally explode

And why wouldn’t you?

Even if he’s using humor and convos are a bit awkward- it doesn’t make him incapable of having any serious ones

So pull up a chair and talk to him when you’re having a rough day surrounding your identity

The worst thing that can happen is nothing

Because he’ll always support you and also talk about how he’s felt shitty before to atleast make you smile

That’s one continuous long term goal of his he’ll never reach

Also if you’re on t (injection) - never expect this gremlin to help out or so help us all

Nico Di Angelo

Cool. He loves you and so you’re his boyfriend now.

That’s all there is to it

I sort of see him as the type to try to not make a big deal out of your identity and stuff

Partially so you don’t feel like he’s walking on egg shells (he knows the feeling)

But also because he’s unsure of if that’s him crossing boundaries (again, because of his personal experience/ preference)

You got a new name? New pronouns? He’ll happily call you them

Again, he isn’t the type to be overly dramatic or loud with his support but he’d show it in more subtle ways

His understanding of identity and validation makes him sensitive to what you need more often than not

So even though he won’t always have the words to convey how he feels, he’s always there to listen

Also, his reassurance is always so heartfelt

Random but something to add since Nico is obviously sarcastic and can be misleading to some

Anyway

We all know Nicos trait of being over protective to those he loves so naturally it extends to you by default

If anyone would even misgender or deadname you in front of him- regardless of if it were on accident- he’d correct them without fail

Not that he makes a scene at all

His presence is already scary enough

(The books alone are proof

+ Though only done if you feel comfortable with it)

Many people experience different things but I feel like acceptance is one many people have gone through and tried to achieve at one point or another

Nico was a conservative Italian raised catholic (who is gay) from the 1930s

If someone knows about the trial of self acceptance

it’s him

So even if it’s not exactly the same- he understands the conflict that goes on and is always there to hear you out

Also you can’t tell me that he’s gotten wack ass pride/gay merch as a way of being supported by other campers when he came out

Mostly annoying ones but I digress

So as a rite of passage he’d gift you some cringe trans merch in hope of making you laugh

Something to add is that if this is more fresh Nico

Ig you could say

Then he’d be really guarded like to the max

So even though present him would be as stated as above- younger Nico would definitely be way harsher to those who offended you

I don’t make the rules

[sage-nebula]

A topic of discussion in the fandom has been how the main characters have regressed since the Rising Volt Tacklers disbanded. Dot returned to spending all of her time in her room and only interacting via the phone and computer; Liko went back to school and Stepford Smiled her way through every day; and Roy . . . 's characterization is a bit messy right now, but one could argue that his regression is through his insistence on growing stronger and focusing on power. I myself don't really agree with that, but an argument could be made for it.

But what's interesting is that the newest episode shows that regression also hit Mollie in a big way, albeit one that was barely touched upon before the episode moved on. In a way, I do understand; just because I personally find the adult crew members of the Rising Volt Tacklers to be super interesting doesn't mean that the intended audience of children would. Additionally, since Mollie seems to have beef with her mother, it's possible they wouldn't want to show that in animation. (It is, perhaps, a reason why anime!Lusamine differed so drastically from SM!Lusamine, and even USUM!Lusamine.) But regardless, I do want to talk about it a little bit, since I absolutely love Mollie and I feel that Horizons is trying to juggle something with her that would be really good if they decided to go farther with it.

So, let's get into it.

Mollie comes from a family of Joys in the Johto region, a fact that was always glaringly obvious. (Not that she was from Johto, but rather, that she came from a family of Joys.) She left home at some point prior to the series because she wanted to be able to treat wild pokémon around the world, because they didn't have trainers who could bring them to a Center. Though we are given this reason in episode 11, in episode 3 we see that she doesn't even want to step foot inside a Pokémon Center, implying that she has some deeper, more difficult feelings surrounding the Centers and her family than she lets on.

She doesn't seem that upset, but given the large order, it hardly makes sense for her to have sent Liko in by herself if she wasn't opposed to entering the Pokémon Center for whatever reason. And I did double check; the Center that she sends Liko into in episode 3 is a different one than her family is shown to run in episode 94. So she doesn't want to enter any Centers, at all, regardless of the reason. (Liko theorizes that this is because she "doesn't want to be reminded of the career she left" in episode 11, but I'm not sure I buy that, since Mollie is happy as a Rising Volt Tackler.)

In episode 11, we're shown at the beginning of the episode that even though Mollie has left her family, she is still in contact with them; in specific, she's still in contact with her mother, who seems to be asking her to return home. Mollie refuses to do so and ends the call, and tells Orio that her mother is "worrying about her for the wrong reasons." There's a running theme in the episode about parents contacting their children out of worry, and Orio seems to feel like this is something that Mollie could stand to remember (and appreciate); but given that Mollie later compliments Liko on being able to talk things out with her father, and get him to understand that she needs to do her own thing, the implication is there that perhaps this is less about Mollie not understanding that her mother is worried about her, and more about some deeper rooted issues.

Finally, in episode 94 -- a whole 83 episodes later -- we finally meet Mollie's mother. And while she isn't presented as a cruel or uncaring parnt, she is presented as, well . . . a patronizing and potentially overbearing one.

She actually calls herself "Mama", rather than "Mommy", but this is still (in my opinion) an extremely patronizing way to speak to your adult daughter. She's essentially baby talking Mollie here. And while I don't think that she intended to be condescending, and while she certainly wasn't trying to anger her daughter . . . you can be condescending without intending to be. You can believe you're being kind, but still end up patronizing someone, and I feel that this is especially true when it comes to parents and their children, because even when their children are grown, sometimes parents have a hard time seeing it that way.

There are also implications to what she says next:

Mollie is an adult, and has been for some time. Yet her mother is saying she "really [is] all grown up now" that she has returned to the family Center. The implication here is that her mother may have seen her journey across the world (both before and after she joined the Rising Volt Tacklers) as a childish whim. This would pair neatly with her calling to check up on Mollie in the same way that Murdock was calling after the kids (and in a way that we don't see happen to the other adult crew members), and her patronizing word choice, referring to herself as Mama as though Mollie is still a young child.

The problem, though, is that Mollie isn't a child, and hasn't been for some time. While we don't have exact ages for the Rising Volt Tacklers, we saw Mollie as a young adult in the flashbacks with Sohdayo:

Given how young Friede, Orio, and Mollie all looked in flashbacks either around the time the RVT formed / soon after, we can safely assume that roughly a decade has passed since then. (Liko's age in Friede's flashback to when he met Cap also points to this; she looked like a toddler in the flashback, and is a preteen / young teenager when the series starts.) So if Mollie was around 18 - 20 when she joined the RVT, she'd be 28 - 30 when the series starts, and 30 - 32 now.

So for her mother to still baby talk to her, and to say that she's grown now, after she has returned home . . . the implication is that she didn't really see Mollie as an adult while she was adventuring (perhaps instead seeing it as something akin to childish / teenage rebellion), and on some level, she still doesn't see her as such now.

(And again, for great emphasis, I don't mean to make out that Mollie's mother is doing this out of malice; I'm merely pointing out that it does seem to be what she is doing.)

Meanwhile, from Mollie's perspective . . .

In episode 11, she tells Liko that she had her future already set in stone for her, at least from the time that she was Liko's age if not younger. She comes from a long line of doctors; it was always assumed that she was going to go into medicine and work at the Center, just like the rest of her family. And while she loves pokémon and clearly enjoys medicine, she also ended up realizing on her own that working at the Center didn't make her happy. The thought of wild pokémon suffering was too much for her to bear. (Which could potentially point toward anxiety problems, but that's an issue to discuss another time.) But leaving the Center means leaving the family business, and doing so even though her mother continuously calls to ask when she'll be returning home . . . to which Mollie doesn't say never, but just says later. This, coupled with the fact that she compliments Liko on being able to have an honest conversation with her parents, indicates that perhaps Mollie didn't exactly have an honest conversation with her own before she decided to bail.

And then we get this little tidbit in episode 94:

Mollie, it seems, feels stifled and controlled by her mother. It does seem as though her mother is the one running the show at the Center, but I think the issues run deeper than that. Mollie is implied to have not been able to have an honest conversation with her mother about why she left in the first place; she was never ever to tell her mother flat-out that she wasn't going to return to the family Center even though she was happy traveling around the world with the RVT and didn't seem to want to stop until they had to; and she tells Liko that her path had been decided for her, that the only reason she hadn't thought about what she wanted to do was because she was never really given the opportunity to.

I can't stress enough that I don't think Mollie's mother treated her with any kind of malice. She does seem genuinely worried about Mollie's health when she urges her to stay and rest instead of running into the forest, and she does give a sort of fond smile when Mollie runs off anyway. To her, this is probably another example of her daughter's impetuous (and therefore childish) will. But laying on expectations that your child will follow in your footsteps, and centering everything in their life around that, can end up feeling suffocating and controlling to your child. Mollie can't see that her mother loves and wants what's best for her, because it's clouded by the fact that her mother had decided her life for her and is now complimenting her on once again putting herself back on that path. Mollie echoing, "Really grown up now . . ." feels, to me, like she's questioning what her mother has said; like she recognizes what implications are there, and that they don't sit quite right with her. It's likely the reason why she snapped at her mother to let her do what she wants on her free time, at least, because her mother's words (unintentionally) rankled something deep within her.

But although she says this, and although she had avoided Centers for years . . . when the RVT fell apart, she did still decide to return home. She did still decide to return to the place where her mother treats her like a child, and place herself back on the path that had been decided for her in childhood. And at the end of the episode she decides to stay there, claiming that she is learning a lot there (something I question given that she spent her entire childhood and adolescence there -- how much more experience can she gain there rather than traveling?). The fact that she says she'll leave only if the Brave Asagi gets up and running again indicates, to me, that this is indeed a regression; not just a regression in how her own mother is treating her (because it's sort of implied her mother treated her like this all along), but in the fact that she's tolerating it. In the fact that she returned there at all, instead of traveling on her own to do what she had decided to do even before she joined the RVT.

And the truth is . . . this aspect of Mollie's story is one that I feel a lot of adults (young and middle-aged) could relate to nowadays. How many adults have had to return home after college, because they're saddled with debt and no job (or a job that doesn't have a high enough salary to let them support themselves)? How many parents continue to coddle them because of that, seeing them as children despite their age because of the fact that they're living at home again? And how frightening might it be, to venture out again without a guarantee of success, because you don't want to fail again?

Perhaps I am reading too much into it, but that's how Mollie's situation reads to me. She's hit a stage of regression (and depression) herself, but she's trying to make the most of it, or at least put on a brave face for the kids when they're in town. I really hope that the kids beeline for Orio and the Brave Asagi next, so that we can get the crew back in action.

[sophieinwonderland]

Being miserable all the time from being a system is a skill issue!

Alright, did the inflammatory headline get your attention? Was it grabby enough to get you to keep reading? Cool!

DID is a disorder. It is obviously going to negatively impact your life. If it didn't negatively impact you at all, you wouldn't have DID. And it may also be true that there are some systems who just won't get along no matter what.

But philosophy is also going to play a part in this. How you treat your headmates is going to play a part in this.

Do you apologize for times when you've hurt your headmates and try to make amends, or do you ignore the problem and let it fester?

Do you thank your headmates for the times they've protected you or helped you, or do you take them for granted?

When there's a conflict where a headmate wants do something you don't, do you work towards reaching a compromise or do you just forbid them from doing it as if they're your property?

If you're able (during periods with low dissociative barriers) do you hang out with headmates as friends in the inner world or in the physical world. (For example, we recently picked up Marvel Champions, a co-op card game where each headmate can control a different hero.)

Maybe it's not my place to say this since we're not a DID system ourselves. But you don't really need to have DID yourself to notice patterns. To realize that DID systems who treat their headmates with kindness, who show them love and appreciation, are more likely to receive love and appreciation back. And it's really just common sense too.

There is a certain mentality I've noticed among some sysmeds where they are so terrified of being cringe or being like the so-called fakers that they make choices that hurt their relationships with the rest of their system, which ends up being incredibly anti-recovery. If you want to find happiness for yourselves, you have got to take that mentality and kill it with fire... once that's done, you can be reborn from the ashes like the phoenix!

There an old tulpamancy "guide", a favorite of mine, that's called Alyssa's List of Many Things To Do With Your Tulpa. The thing about this guide though, is that while it's geared specifically towards tulpamancy, a lot of the things it describes could be done by practically any type of system.

This article is great because it's really just ways to enjoy the company of your headmates, and enjoy the life you share together.

It's about strengthening your bonds and your connections through playfulness and shared joy.

Who knows? Maybe you've already tried things like this and they haven't helped. But if you haven't tried... then why not? What's holding you back? Why not just humor me and try to show more kindness and appreciation to your headmates? To hang out with them? To play with them, even if it seems a little cringe at first?