#write write write! keep fighting the good fight!

[jasongracedefenseattorney]

“the breakup was bad writing” WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNN?!?! the relationship was PEAK 9-1-1 writing yall just don’t like that it wasn’t written with tommy as endgame! they were always going to have troubles at micelli’s!! eddie was always going to haunt their narrative!! they never make it to the movie together!! tommy was always going to have to fight for a “spot” in buck’s life and the moment buck finally lets him in (ie he gets a good parking spot) he’s not willing to put in any work to keep it. he never learned that buck doesn’t like basketball he never indulged buck’s love of deep dives even in the breakup he called buck impulsive but the thing is buck isn’t impulsive by nature! he can be self destructive and throw himself into danger for others but actual decisions in his life are so often made by committee. the only time he acts impulsively is when he’s clinging to dying relationships. and he wouldn’t even call him by his name! the only time he calls him buck is right before he leaves when for ONCE he sees him completely. the bucktommy breakup was some of the best work the writers have done in a while im sorry that yall fell in love with a plot device and got mad that he was used as a device for the plot but the writers led you to the water it’s not their fault when you don’t drink

[daisymbin]

too handsome! - kim mingyu

warnings: alcohol & a bantering boogyu

pairings: kim mingyu x reader

genre: silly drunk confessions? friends to lovers!

wc: 1.1k

a/n: i can't believe this is the end of the drunken confessions series. I hope you had as much fun reading the series as I did writing them!! 🤍

drunken confessions series

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you didn’t know what was more of a surprise: the sight of kim mingyu sprawled out on the living room floor, head resting against a pillow that had somehow found its way under him, or the fact that he was currently singing—if you could even call it that—an off-key rendition of a song you were pretty sure didn’t exist.

“mingyu?” you called out, stepping inside and carefully setting down the takeout bags you’d brought. “what... what happened here?”

seungkwan, who was sitting cross-legged on the couch with a resigned expression, gave you a look that screamed exasperation. “oh, thank god. finally. please come take care of your pouty big baby.”

you let out a laugh, glancing between him and mingyu. “what’s wrong with him?”

“what’s wrong with me?” mingyu repeated, his voice slurred but full of mock offense. he pushed himself up onto his elbows, glaring at you through half-lidded eyes. “you’re what’s wrong with me! you took forever! i almost died waiting.”

seungkwan let out an exaggerated groan. “he’s been whining for the past hour,” he said, waving a hand at mingyu. “going on and on about how you abandoned him and how the world is unfair and how he’s too handsome to suffer like this.”

“i am too handsome to suffer like this,” mingyu insisted, turning his pout on seungkwan. “look at me! i should be cherished, not left here to rot.”

joshua, who had been watching the whole scene unfold from the armchair, chuckled. “well, you know what a good bottle of whiskey does to him,” he said. “he doesn’t know how much he’s drinking until it’s too late.”

mingyu dramatically clutched his chest, letting out a loud, theatrical sigh. “betrayed by whiskey, yet again. the tragedy of my life.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, stepping closer to your overly dramatic best friend. “mingyu,” you said gently, kneeling beside him. “you’re not dying, okay? i’m here now.”

he looked up at you with wide, glassy eyes and a pout that would have melted even the coldest heart. “you’re finally here,” he whined, folding his arms. “but you were late! so late. and i was lonely.”

“i was gone for, like, an hour,” you pointed out, trying to keep your voice steady despite the giggles threatening to burst out.

“an hour is basically a lifetime,” mingyu shot back, flopping onto his back with another dramatic sigh. “you’re lucky i’m forgiving. but just so you know, i expect you to grovel.”

“grovel?” you repeated, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips. “for what?”

“for breaking my heart,” he declared, pointing a shaky finger at you. “and leaving me here with seungkwan and his terrible attitude.”

seungkwan gasped, placing a hand over his chest as if he’d been mortally wounded. “my terrible attitude? excuse me, i’m the only one keeping you from full-on sobbing and ruining the carpet. show some respect, kim mingyu!”

mingyu stuck out his tongue, earning a scandalized gasp from seungkwan. “you see this?” seungkwan turned to you, his expression as dramatic as ever. “this is what i have to deal with. he’s insufferable.”

“you’re insufferable,” mingyu shot back, though his words came out slightly slurred. “and mean. so mean. you should be nicer to me, seungkwan. i’m fragile.”

“fragile?” seungkwan repeated, looking like he might burst out laughing. “you’re built like a damn tank. the only thing fragile here is your ego.”

mingyu groaned, pressing his hands over his face, leaning closer to you. “ugh! see? he’s so mean. you should comfort me.”

“okay, okay,” you said, fighting back a smile as you knelt down beside mingyu. “i’m here to comfort you. no more bullying.”

mingyu peeked at you through his fingers, his lips forming a pout. “you always know how to make me feel better,” he mumbled, his voice soft. “even when i don’t deserve it.”

“what do you mean?” you asked, your smile fading slightly at the seriousness in his tone.

mingyu sighed, lowering his hands from his face. “you’re always there for me,” he said, his eyes growing glassy. “even when i’m annoying and whiny and... and so obviously in love with you.”

your breath caught in your throat. “what?”

his eyes widened in horror, and he immediately clamped a hand over his mouth. “what,” he mumbled through his fingers, panic flashing across his face. “uh-”

“mingyu,” you said, your heart pounding. “what did you just say?”

seungkwan’s jaw dropped, an "oh my god, he's stupid." slips out before he clapped a hand over his own mouth to keep from screaming. joshua leaned forward, eyes wide with disbelief.

mingyu, looking utterly betrayed by his own mouth, let out a strangled laugh. “um... surprise?”

you stared at him, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions flooding through you. “you... you’re in love with me?”

he groaned, dropping his head back onto the pillow. “i didn’t mean to say that,” he muttered, his voice muffled. “this is the worst. the absolute worst.”

“mingyu,” you said softly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “do you really mean it?”

he lifted his head just enough to look at you, his eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and hope. “yeah,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “i really mean it. but if you don’t feel the same, please just pretend i never said anything. i can’t lose you.”

your heart swelled, and a smile slowly spread across your face. “you big, dramatic idiot,” you whispered. “how can i not?”

mingyu’s eyes lit up, and a slow, disbelieving grin spread across his face. “wait... really?”

“really,” you said, laughing as you cupped his face in your hands. “i like you, too.”

he let out a joyous, relieved laugh, grabbing your hands and pulling you into a tight hug. “this is the best day of my life,” he declared, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

“even though you embarrassed yourself in front of seungkwan and joshua?” you teased, pulling back to look at him.

he shrugged, a sassy grin spreading across his lips. “worth it,” he said, winking at you. “besides, i’m too handsome to be embarrassed for long.”

“oh my god, yeah and you're too handsome to be this oblivious yet here we are.” seungkwan groaned, throwing a pillow at mingyu. “get a room, you two! or better yet, get him to stop being so annoying & shut his mouth.”

mingyu caught the pillow and smirked, hugging it to his chest. “never,” he shot back, winking at you again. “being annoying is part of my charm, right?”

you laughed, feeling your heart swell with affection. “right,” you said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

and as mingyu beamed at you, looking happier than you’d ever seen him. he's too handsome not to be loved, right?

[achilles-rage]

good luck charm: bonus drabble

come and get your love

summary: after a hard day, you do something to cheer evan up.

word count: 1.6k

series masterlist

a/n: this might be stupid, but it was fun to write and i think it’s cute so sue me!! sigh, i miss good luck charm evan, and i'm sorry this took so long, i just couldn't think of any scenarios i really wanted to tell. if you have any drabble ideas for this series, i'm happy to hear them! enjoy<33

warnings: none, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

You’re in the bedroom putting away some laundry when you hear the front door slam, and you jump in surprise, a frown making its way onto your face immediately. You know exactly what that door slam means; Evan has had a bad day. 

“Hi, baby.” you say, peeking your head over the railing and looking at him in the kitchen getting some water. You offer him a small smile when he looks up at you, and although he gives you a smile back, you can tell it’s fake even from up in the loft. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you sigh sadly.

When you make it to the bottom of the stairs and walk towards him standing near the fridge, you wrap your arms around his neck and raise up onto your toes to give him a kiss. You feel the way he melts into your embrace, and it’s almost as if you can feel all of the stress radiating off of his body; it’s practically suffocating you, and you can’t even imagine how he feels.

“Rough day?” you ask, and he nods once, jaw clenched.

He’s been working extremely hard the past few weeks at the LAFD training academy, and while he comes home most days exhausted but content, there’s some days where he can get overwhelmed.

“You have no idea.” he tells you, his hands finding their way to your hips. You give him a sad smile, then pull him down for another kiss, hoping to get him to relax a little bit more.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He huffs at your question, thinking for a moment. He knows it would be better to get it out of his system, but he doesn’t want to dump it all on you. He knows how hard you’ve been working at your new job, and he doesn’t want you worrying about him as well.

“Hey, we don’t keep stuff in, that’s not what we do. You told me that.” you urge him softly when he doesn’t reply right away. He sighs, a smile fighting its way onto his face at your reminder. He nods after a moment, looking into your eyes and rubbing his thumb across your cheek.

“The physical stuff is fine, I’m passing everything easily. Just- The instructors say stuff; try to get into your head. It just got to me today.” he explains with a frown. You nod your head as he speaks, keeping your gaze locked with his. When he’s finished you tilt your head to the side, waiting for him to continue, but when he doesn’t, you raise your brows.

“Do you want to tell me what they said today that got you so worked up?” you urge. You don’t necessarily want to push him, but you know that he needs to talk it out, so you keep your eyes on him, as if pleading with him to tell you.

“We were doing this drill today, and there were a bunch of dummies. They gave them all back stories to make them feel real. I don’t know, I guess I just got caught up in it and in my mind they were real people, because they will be one day. I tried to go back into the building even when some of the other guys let the fire get out of hand because there were still a few dummies left in the building, and some guys had to hold me back.” he says in one big breath, and you follow along with furrowed brows, hoping he’ll continue.

“Well, they know I have you, and I guess they picked up on the fact that I was thinking about you the whole time; thinking about you in there. They were just saying stuff about me not being able to save you because of my mistakes, and about you having to plan my funeral because I got reckless on the job and I got myself killed.” he continues after a moment. He chews on the inside of his cheek as he waits for you to reply, and your eyes soften at his admission. 

You shake your head, bringing his head down to rest your foreheads against each other with your hand on the back of his neck. You keep him there for a moment in silence, trying to gather your thoughts before you reply.

“My love, your heart is what will make you a good firefighter. You care so much about people. And I have no doubt that you’d be able to save me if you had to, because you’re smart, and capable, and you love so deeply. And I’m not gonna lie, the thought of you getting hurt on the job has crossed my mind, but I know that you’re gonna fight to come home everyday, aren’t you?” He nods immediately, brows furrowing.

“Of course, I will. You know I will.” he replies, and you smile.

“Then I’m not too worried. Worry about actually finishing your training first, and then we’ll talk about you dying on the job, okay? Because I guarantee that when you start at an actual station, you’ll trust your team a lot more than the recruits. You can’t even imagine all the stories my dad has told me about the people he had to train with.” you tell him with a small laugh. You can still see a bit of hesitancy in his eyes as he tells you that you’re right, so you lead him to the couch and sit him down.

“I know exactly what you need.” you tell him when he sits down, then turn and grab your phone off the kitchen counter.

A small, real smile finally makes its way to his face when he sees you scrolling through your phone, knowing exactly what you’re about to do. When one of you has a bad day, the other always does something to make the other smile. He doesn’t even remember when or how this tradition started, but he does know that it always makes him smile regardless of how many times you do it.

His smile widens when he hears the beginning to Redbone’s Come and Get Your Love from the speaker connected to the tv, and you turn from your spot in the kitchen to face him.

You walk over to him as the beat starts, moving your shoulders in time with each step and fighting back a smile, and when the singing starts, you grab the tv remote off the coffee table and begin to lip sync into it.

He watches as you dance to the music with a wide smile, watching the way you move your hips in time with the music, and he can already feel himself start to feel better. He chuckles when you grab one of his hands and duck down to spin under his arm, and when you turn back to face him, you drop his hand and back up a few feet.

When the chorus starts, you continue lip syncing as you raise your hand in a “come here” motion, rolling your body in time with the beat. He gets up off the couch, keeping his eyes locked with yours, then grabs your hips, pulling you against him. 

You both sway to the music with smiles on your face. You can tell that he feels better, and you’re extremely grateful. You know how stressful the job can be, and you only hope you can help him through it as much as you can. 

The song finally ends, and he lifts you up with his hands going to the backs of your thighs, and you giggle as you wrap your legs around his waist.

“You always know what to do, princess.” he says with a grin, and all you can do is lean down to press your lips to his. 

“I know what else I can do to help you feel better.” you murmur against his lips. You feel his grip tightening on the back of your thighs, and he groans, pulling back from your lips to look at you with blown pupils.

“I’m keeping you in bed until tomorrow morning.” he teases, then sets you back down onto the ground. He then grabs your waist and turns you towards the stairs, then pushes you forward gently, but not before giving your ass a firm smack. You yelp at the contact, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder as he speaks.

“Go upstairs, princess. I’ll be right up.” 

“What are you doing?” you ask, but obey and walk towards the stairs.

“I’m ordering takeout, gonna see what I can do before it gets here.” he teases, and you laugh softly, rolling your eyes.

His eyes dart between your ass as you walk up the stairs, and his phone, and when he’s finally placed the order, he races up the stairs two at a time. 

He grins when he sees that you’re already naked, sprawled out on the bed and sitting up on your elbows waiting for him. He groans as he takes off his shirt, then unzips his pants, and then he’s on you in an instant, lips attaching to your neck.

“How could I do this without you, princess?” he whispers against your neck, goosebumps erupting on your skin as his hot breath hits your neck.

“You’d be lost without me.” you tease as you tilt your head back. You feel him grinding against you as he chuckles, and you lower your chin to meet his gaze when he leans back to look at you.

“Damn right, I would.”

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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[butlervibesonly]

𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 || Austin Butler

• Summary : Austin had a rough day filming, and Y/n wants him to feel better as he comes home. Dinner, and, welp, a hot bath that isn't just a hot bath...

• Pairing : Austin Butler x female! reader

• Warnings : fluff, kisses and little bit of spiciness by the end...

• Note : I wish, and I'm repeating, I wish, I could write spicy scenes and the more I wish is to be able to finish them (forgive me) 😭🥲

Being an actor is surely amazing thing. Although it could be also very exhausting, and it can be rough. And that's Austin's case. He texted you more than once saying how much he was looking forward to going home, that he had had a hard day and was tired.

After a grueling day on set, he finally steps through the door, exhaustion visible in his eyes and in the heavy slump of his shoulders. The moment Austin walks in, though, he’s greeted by the warm, savory aroma of his favorite food drifting from the kitchen.

“Hey, babe, I'm home,” he calls out softly, and you peek around the corner, giving him a warm smile. You can see just how drained he is, and without a word, you walk over and wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Austin lets out a sigh, resting his head against yours, clinging to you as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I made your favorite,” you say softly, giving him a little smile. “I thought you might need a good meal after today.” His eyes soften, and he leans down to press a grateful kiss against your lips. And woah, how much he missed those lips. “You have no idea how much I needed this.”

You guide him to the table, where you’ve already set up everything—candles, his favorite dish, and even a little dessert. As Austin sits down, he looks around, visibly touched by the thought and care you’ve put into making this night special. You serve him, and as he takes his first bite, he lets out a satisfied hum, his eyes meeting yours with a grateful, softened expression.

"This. Is. Frickin'. Delicious." Austin said every word in the way to make you know this was what he craved for. "You're the best cook I know," he says, continuing to eat his food. "Well, thank you, dreamboat." you chuckle.

After dinner, you reach for Austin's hand, pulling him gently toward the bathroom. “I have one more surprise,” you say with a playful smile. He raises an eyebrow, curious, but lets you lead him inside, where you’ve already prepared a warm bubble bath. The room is softly lit with candles, the bath filled with bubbles and infused with his favorite soothing scents. He stares in awe for a second, then looks at you, clearly moved.

“I can’t believe you did all this…for me,” he says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he pulls you in for another hug. “Of course I did,” you murmur, brushing a hand through his hair. “You do so much every day, and I just want you to relax tonight.”

He squeezes your hand and when he noticed that you actually also added rose petals, he can't help but laugh. "Do you know you should be the one who deserves such a romantic bath?" Austin jokes, making you smile. "You mean a rough man like you doesn't deserve a little tenderness?"

Austin laughs back at your humor, and starts to take off his clothes. As much as you fight the urge, you still watch his muscular body. He gets in, comfortable in the warm water, closes his eyes, the tension in his shoulders finally easing. "Wait a second," you managed to speak again, leaving him in the bathroom.

As you come back, you carry a glass of champagne with a strawberry in it. "There you go," you say, handing him the glass. Austin's smile widen, making him smirk. "You haven't forgotten anything, have you?" he said and took a sip. You follow him with your eyes, every move, every sigh he lets out. Even though he is tired, he is incredibly hot.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch?" Austin lets out, when he notices you standing there like a fool. "Join me, the tub is big enough." he smirks. How is even possible he can make you feel butterflies like some teenage girl?

After doubting for a moment, he nodded his head towards the bath to signal that there was plenty of room beside him. Finally, you agreed, taking your clothes off, too. His eyes don't leave you, capturing your every move. He holds out his hand, which is wet, covered in bubbles, to help you get inside.

You lay beside him, his arm around your shoulders as he press a kiss into your hair. You can feel the way his body reacts to your touch, making him hum. You then felt Austin kissing your neck, more intensively every time.

"I thought you were tired?" You smirked, looking at him. "I'm never too tired for you, doll," he says, his voice deep. Doll. That nickname is stuck with him since he played Elvis and you absolutely loved it. His hands started to roam around your body, and eventually flipped you, so you lay on the top of him.

You heard the water splash out when he did so. Gasping a little, he pressed his lips against yours. "You're so, so amazing. I can't get enough of you." Austin breathes fast as he continues pressing a small kisses all around your neck.

The original plan was for you to watch a movie together, but now it's clear that Mr. Butler has something much different planned...

[revelboo]

I love your writing and I love that you’re having fun with it even more! It baffles me how good you are with coming up with different dynamics for each of your storylines and they all work so well. My favorite has to be tfp megs. Maybe it’s a guilty pleasure but something about the fake hating or the taboo codependency really scratches a specific itch on my brain.

I know it’s a very satisfying dynamic to write. This one is a bit earlier than I’d planned, but I wanted to get it down while it was in my head.

And you guys crack me up sometimes. I’ve seen one of y’all call Optimus ‘Pee Paw’ in reblog tags and now TFP Megs is ‘Space Crack Grandpa.’

Broken Arrow Pt 9

TFP Megatron x Reader

• You’re frozen against him, body arching into his where his denta are gripping you. He’s shocked you so badly you don’t know how to respond apparently. There’s a faint unease at your stillness, that maybe he finally pushed a bit too hard. It’s only when he bites just a tiny bit harder that you snap out of it and smack a palm against the side of his helm. “Get off, you jerk. Who bites someone?” And there’s the anger he enjoys so much. Laughing again as you try to shove his head away and he lets you, aware of your soft, warm hands gripping his helm, your face red and furious.

• And he’s laughing again, so messed up he finds your frustration hilarious as you keep your grip on his helm to keep him from trying to bite you again. That bare prick of his denta on you had broken through the shock of the not entirely unpleasant feel of that bite. “You shouldn’t do that crap,” you mutter, trying to maintain that frustrated anger, but worry creeping in to your tone. “At this rate, the Autobots won’t have to do anything. You’re so messed up, you’ll probably fall out of the ship and do it for them.”

• Those hands are unbelievably soft on him, fingers gripping his helm to try and keep his face out of biting range as you scowl up at him. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about me,” he asks, grinning as he catches one of your wrists and feels you immediately try to tug loose as he considers nipping those little fingers. Wanting to just because he can, just to feel you shudder against him again.

• Trying to get your hand back, you plant the other one in the center of his chest. “Don’t flatter yourself,”you mutter. “I’d shove you myself if I could.” He’s not letting go, but there’s a new, calculating gleam in his optics that makes your skin prickle all over. Because on that stuff? There’s no telling where his processor just went or what he might do. Like rasp the claws of his other hand down his chest, those armor panels shifting to reveal something pulsing with light, something alive that pulls at you and you realize it’s his bare spark. ‘That’s how you end a Cybertronian,’ his words come back to you and you suddenly want loose. Want him to close those panels up, because seeing this is uncomfortably intimate. “Cut it out.”

• “Don’t tell me you’ve had a change of heart, pet?” Servos tightening on your wrist to force your hand closer to his spark, you suck in a sharp breath and try to lean away, eyes widening in alarm. “Don’t you still want to end me?” Knows he should stop, let go. Because you’re not playing along, there’s something very much like real panic in your eyes as you struggle against him, then shudder violently when his spark reacts. Reaching out a tendril of energy to meet your shaking fingers and now he’s frozen.

• Warmth spins through you at that contact, you can feel him as those tendrils of spark energy curl about your fingers. And you’re not fighting to get away anymore, you’re surrendering to that feeling of falling into him like plunging into deep, still waters that are churning violently just under the surface. Fractured sensations and memories spin you about, too chaotic and alive for you make any sense of. Just knowing that this is him, all of him. Drowning in him, feeling your heart struggling, missing beats. Hurting.

• That contact runs electric through him until he’s jerking you closer to strengthen it without even thinking. He’d only meant to make you angry, to provoke you, but as awareness washes over him in a warm fall like summer rain, he’s suddenly painfully sober. You’re only a human, but he can sense something there that’s not a spark, but close. Something even more achingly fragile than you are as your head falls forward against his shoulder and he can’t move even though he needs to break that contact, shove you away to save himself. You’re just a sparkless organic. And what he feels isn’t a spark, but something that might as well be one entangling with him, slipping soft as a sigh through him as his servos tighten against you. Realizing just how bad a mistake he’d just made.

Previous

[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

Omg yay!! I'm so excited to dive into your thoughts on Part 2. As you saw, it's a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. 😅

Alright it is devastating right off the bat and I know, I know I should be worried about her and I am. I am SO worried, but my mind completely went somewhere else when Dean PICKED HER UP. The man is so strong and I am just...

LOL girl I don't blame you for being distracted. The mental image of Dean manhandling in Protective Mode does things to me too. 🤣

I was prepared for this coming but dang... "I hope you've learned your damn lesson" is a line that breaks my heart more than I should. It cuts to the quick for me, because to me it's worse than just saying "I told you not to do something." It's not heartless, but it's enough of a rendition of it that it just makes you go "oh wow."

I love this observation. That's exactly what I felt inherently when I was writing that line. It felt more powerful to me than "I told you so" or the like. It has the feeling of that, but with more of an edge, even though you know he cares about her.

I was literally screaming. It's like he wants her to kill him. I know that Dean loves her so much but oh my goodness it's about to get so real for him. Man is about to be torn to shreds.

LMAO I remember someone saw the preview of Part 2 and commented, "the quiet, but devastating anger he'd be reckoned with if he said that to me." And I was like, YEP, that's exactly it. Mans playing with his life. 😅😅😅

You just wanna go:

Even though she's upset, Dean is still her best friend and the man she loves and even though he's the one that made her feel this way, she still wants to be comforted by his presence. I always think that, this particular thing is so bittersweet to read about in relationships. Or at least that's how I took this bit 😅.

That's precisely how I intended it! Now looking back, I feel like I should have had her leave him by himself in his room to sleep in another room. But at the time I was writing, I was thinking that for her in particular, despite this being the biggest fight they've had so far in their relationship, he's still the one that makes her feel safe after a bad hunt. 💙

Side note: I am happy that the reader didn't have to tell the woman about her son. That would have broken me to read that especially after the reader promised that they would find her son in part one.

Oh my God, yeah. I considered having her be the one to face her "mistake" and talk to the mother, but I felt that having Sam take that on would be better, even as it added to the reader's guilt (and it would keep the story moving).

Oh my word. I love you friend, but WHY!? Dang it, this pricked at my heart. It's so good, so heart wrenching. I feel so bad for him, but it really just reinforces why he "lost it" with the reader earlier. Goodness the trope of the reader getting yelled at by someone who loves them about putting themselves in danger really is just such a good one for Dean and you do it so well.

Lmaooo I knowww, I'm sorry! All the angsty feels in this one. 😭 Now you see the full weight of why Dean popped off the way he did. He just feels things so deeply, it comes out sometimes in anger, when at the root of it all, it's fear.

Thank you though for that compliment! I think this is the only time I've written that Dean trope. Because I honestly think it's overused, but I tried to do it in a way that made sense for the ultimate growth of their relationship and who Dean is.

His apology is really just pricking at my heart. It's so good, so forthcoming so honest. And the thought that he was "better off alone" is so on brand for him. I know that we've talked about that before, but it really does fit him, and I love how you weave it into this fic.

Aww thank you! 😭😭 Weirdly enough, that was one of my favorite parts to write? Maybe I just like the heartfelt hurt/comfort breaking into fluff moments. The "better off alone" thing I thought was implied throughout the later seasons of the show after Dean lets go of Lisa and Ben, so I wanted to explore that deeper here, even though it hurt my heart to write it. 💙

She's crying... I'm crying. It's really just tears all around and such a good moment. Also the him saying "You don't have to cry for that"... YES SHE DOES.

Everyone's crying!! 😭 YES ABSOLUTELY SHE DOES -- and she's a verified crier. I see a lot of fics where the reader is tough as nails, "doesn't cry very often," but I wanted to create a reader character who is a badass, but still has a soft heart. (Latinas also can be very emotional, but not to say we're adhering to stereotypes around here LOL. 🤣🤣)

This is just overall a really wonderful vulnerable moment that you've captured that feels real for both the reader and Dean. Especially when she talks about "working with my heart, not my head." I think that if it were me, I would also be "working with my heart." I don't think that I'd be able to take myself emotionally out of the situation that they're in all the time because they're hunters.

Thank you so much!! 🙏🏽🥹🥹 Yeah same, and it's definitely a contrast with Dean, who obviously cares about helping people and takes way too much responsibility on his shoulders, but he's been doing this so long and seen so much that he's learned to compartmentalize a bit more.

Hoping for some FORESHADOWING 🙏🏻👀

Oh girl yesss! If you make it to the last two stories in the series, remember this moment. 😏💜

Also the salsa lesson is just so cute. And the way you took a really emotional moment to a cute salsa dance to a steamy session to a giggly awkward moment is great. The transitions make it seamless. And the song choices were perfect! When the reader was describing what the song meant I was like, "oh yeah, that's him right there. There's the man officer." lmao 🤣

Ahaha thank you so much!! I LOVE me some salsa music, and it was a fun challenge to try and transition between these scenes. From one writer to another, I always appreciate those "technical" observations. 💓💓💓

Oh big YEP!! "Devorame Otra Ves" was the first song I thought of when the salsa idea came. Dean, in fact, is that guy. 🤣🤣

I was again so emotional reading this, because oh my word, poor Dean just reliving the moments where the reader almost died.

Sorry for jerking the angsty chain again there! 🤣 Poor guy, he went through an ordeal just as much as she did.

And also the final scene 👀🌶️ I should have known from the gif at the beginning tbh lol.

LMAO Oh yeah, the gif was a dead giveaway for what was coming later on. 😏 And thank you for shouting out the “What, now you’re shy?” line! It's a special kind of intimate, I thought, for her to be kind of embarrassed about what she's just done, but Dean like, "uh-uh, you're not getting away that easily." 😂😂

Also I love you for using a Chicago Fire gif!! loll Was a big fan of that show back in the day.

Not to mention that the sex was also giggly towards the end and I really just love that. And the love confessions KNOCKED ME OUT.

Awww thank you! I love me some fun giggly romantic smut. 😂

Fun fact on her confession! When she says I love you twice, she's actually saying it in two different ways:

I love you, you’d said. I love you ("te amo," you're my love) and I love you ("te quiero," you're my family), more than you can believe and understand.

Oh I'm riding a train of emotions, and all of this was so good. Especially Sam walking in on them. I was laughing so hard at Dean's reaction:

Lol but seriously, I really appreciate that, thank you!! This story was definitely an emotional rollercoaster. I'm so glad you enjoyed it though!! 💕 ...And Sam's little mishap LOL. Dean has very little shame -- something he's going to prove later on again in the series. 😂

It's all wonderful my friend! And I can't wait to read another fic from this universe! 😊

Thank you SO very much!! Honestly you don't know how happy it makes me that you're enjoying this series so far -- and spoiling me with such lovely and thoughtful feedback. 🥰💕💕

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster. 

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood. 

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming. 

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done. 

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his. 

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires. 

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest. 

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital. 

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead. 

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness. 

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?” 

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him. 

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead. 

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it. 

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says. 

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you. 

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.” 

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps. 

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.” 

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms. 

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely. 

You truly become incensed at that. 

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks. 

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn. 

Dean calls your name in frustration. 

“What?” you hiss. 

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks. 

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything. 

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town. 

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own. 

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes. 

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back. 

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence. 

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space. 

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music. 

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts. 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. 

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips. 

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard. 

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart. 

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.” 

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible. 

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.  

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him. 

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—” 

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand. 

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it. 

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes. 

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms. 

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing. 

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.” 

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea. 

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet. 

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face. 

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room. 

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.” 

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips. 

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.  

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve. 

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head. 

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing. 

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.  

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand. 

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.  

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance. 

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing. 

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.” 

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot. 

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit. 

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest. 

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.” 

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders. 

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance. 

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles. 

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss. 

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question. 

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking. 

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts. 

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine. 

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close. 

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.  

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck. 

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there. 

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms. 

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze. 

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him. 

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs. 

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye. 

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms. 

Oh, fuck yeah. 

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs. 

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up. 

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control. 

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls. 

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums. 

He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk. 

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground. 

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit. 

He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck. 

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.  

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you. 

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. 

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love. 

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze. 

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease. 

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts. 

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs. 

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.  

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.  

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase. 

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room. 

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest. 

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment. 

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room. 

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again. 

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]: 

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]: 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

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[efingart]

Fic request 🥺👉👈

In Bo6 they kind skated over Alder and Woods’ friendship and I wanna see more. Could you write a little fic of them interacting?

Hey anon! Thank you for this request!! 💙

This was so very interesting. Both of these guys have these huge emotional walls up. I imagine friends are a challenging thing for both of them to make and keep. Not exactly the type to talk about their emotions. Which is great I love when everything is just under the surface. I think I'd like to write another one of these from Adler's perspective to see how it goes.

Frank lit a cigarette and stared out at the dark water. He often took to doing this at night when the Safehouse began to quiet down. He thought about his team. Felix and Sev had been arguing earlier, but he could now hear their laughter travel from the kitchen. He was sure Troy was upstairs reading over a letter from Terry, working over his next move in their correspondence chess game. The same move he'd been mulling over before they had to cut and run. The soft sounds of the TV news must have meant Case was on the couch likely dozing off. The guy pushed himself too hard.

Frank stuck the cigarette between his lips and rubbed the tops of his knees or what was left of them. It had become a habit of his, one he didn’t like too much when he realized he was doing it. Reminded him of some of the old guys he had met over the years. Always talking about their aches and pains. He was sidelined sure, permanent desk duty yeah, but he didn’t feel like an old guy. Neither he nor Alex had ever seemed old to him. An ache clenched at his heart as he thought about Al. Al would never be an old guy. They would never be those crusty old vets sitting at the VFW drinking beers and talking about the good old times.

He pressed his thumb against one eye and reached across the bridge of his nose with his forefinger, the pad of his finger against his closed lid. He dragged his fingers across his skin bringing them together to pinch the bridge of his nose. Footsteps on stone behind him, he quickly moved his hand away from his eyes to pluck the cigarette from his mouth. He knew from the confident footfalls that it was Adler.

Adler already had a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He cradled a mug in one large hand which from the smell of it contained some of Felix’s stew.

“Figure out Felix’s mystery meat yet?” Frank joked. Adler stirred the contents with his spoon and inspected a white chunk. “Best guess is rabbit.” “Probably a good guess.” “Let’s just say I’m not about to ask him to confirm it.” Frank chuckled at that.

Adler tucked his cigarette between two fingers and picked up his spoon again. Steam trailed from the mug only to be quickly swept away by the sea breeze. The silence between them lasted until Frank’s cigarette was just a nub. He stubbed it out on the railing and flicked it away. Then he winced. Another bad habit. He remembered the last time he visited David the kid had given him a lecture about recycling and putting his cigarette butts in the trash instead of tossing them on the ground. He even showed Frank some cartoon about it. A blue guy fighting pollution… or something. If it made the kid happy he was willing to do it. He wondered if Adler's kids watched the same show. Adler certainly didn't care about where he tossed his old cigarette butts.

Adler finished his stew and went back inside without a word. Frank thought he was alone again, but before long Adler was back carrying two beers by the neck between his fingers. He handed one to Frank who popped the cap off against the railing and took a swig. Then he examined the label on the bottle. “Gotta clear our names so we can get back to the States and get some real beer.” Adler nodded and tapped the neck of his bottle to Frank’s. “Drink to that.”

A silence passed between them. That was one thing Frank liked about Adler- he never needed to just talk. He was comfortable with quiet. Some guys jabbered on and on. Talking about nothing. Filling the air with words so they wouldn’t have to sit with whatever they were dealing with in their heads. He tried to picture himself and Adler at the VFW sharing a beer and laughing about the old times. Maybe it’d happen. Never in a million years did he think it'd be the two of them that were left. Everyone else was gone, but not them.

“See you dusted that old thing off,” Adler said pointing with his beer hand at Frank’s bandana. It pulled him from his thoughts. He touched the cloth that covered his forehead.

“Yeah, helps me keep my head in the game… Or something.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Adler adjusting his sunglasses. He rarely ever took them off, even at night. Frank had always suspected they might be corrective. But either way, they all had their things. The objects that made them feel more like themselves. And maybe acted as a barrier between them and the rest of the world. It was how they could stay so tough in tricky situations. Keep their cool.

“Guys like us can never leave this.” “Nope,” Frank agreed. Adler cleared his throat before lighting another cigarette. He was always a chain smoker and, of course, most guys liked to have a cigarette with a beer. But he knew Adler well enough, worked with him long enough that even though he put up a front he had his tells. They were just harder to see in him than other people. Frank knew he was stalling.

“Something on your mind?” Adler let out a soft hah!. “Come on you’re not exactly as mysterious as you like to pretend.” Frank nudged Adler’s side with his elbow. He cleared his throat again. “Just wanted to say thanks,” Adler said more to the sea than to Frank. The confidence in his voice never faltered. Always the arrogant bastard. Frank had to admit he liked that about him too.

“For what?” Frank asked with a laugh. He knew the answer. Adler was grateful Frank believed him. Not just to help him, but it made a difference to know there was someone in the world who had his back. Even a guy like Adler needed that comfort sometimes.

“You’re not gonna start getting emotional on me are you?” He asked.

Adler chuckled in response. Then he stabbed out his cigarette on the railing and flicked it over the edge.

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[jane-the-geek]

Response to the Caitlyn haters ❤️

Yes, Caitlyn's arc absolutely, and intentionally, uses fascist tropes, but let’s be clear—people aren’t inherently bad; they’re brainwashed. Even though I might qualify as a “freaking misandrist lesbian witch with a capital B” and think all men are trash, that doesn’t stop me from believing in redemption, because I know they’re not trash. Society shapes them that way, just as Piltover’s society shaped Caitlyn. Fascism is driven by ignorance and manipulation (hello, Ambessa), and while we might not have media in this storyline, it’s the same mechanism at work.

So no, we can’t just write off Caitlyn by saying, “she’s privileged, she’s a classist, she always has been, she’s toxic, and Vi needs to move on.” No, no, no.

Yes, she lived in a bubble of luxury where everything was hidden from her and things came easily. But her family has done a lot for Zaun, and she was raised to respect people and value life. She’s cultured, intelligent, and just as much a pawn of this situation as Vi is. Vi’s use of the green is justified when she says, “We use the grey to clear the streets, to keep people safe.” Delusional? Maybe. But it’s Vi’s justification, and by extension, it’s also Caitlyn’s. Caitlyn wants Jinx, she wants to free Zaun, she wants peace. She doesn’t want to annihilate the population; she sends people to prison because that’s the law. She’s tough and maybe less flexible than before, but she isn’t the elitist fascist people think she is.

When she says “animal,” she’s talking about those who attacked a memorial with children there. She isn’t condemning all of Zaun’s people. Yes, the costumes, sound design, and coded language give her a fascist aesthetic—it’s designed to be that way and makes it “aesthetic AF”—but she isn’t a fascist, she isn’t out of character, and she isn’t toxic. Did she hit Vi? Yes. But Vi hit Powder and left her in the same way. (Sure, they were kids, and Caitlyn is an adult?) But what defines us as human is that we’re programmed to be overwhelmed by emotions. I think hitting someone is wrong, but I don’t believe it defines who we are.

As I’ve been saying in post after post, Caitlyn will come to her senses; she’ll understand it all, because she’s inherently good and intelligent.

I wholeheartedly thank the writers for giving us complex, quality content, with an arc that’s so much more than “they fall in love, fight for peace, kiss, and curtain falls.” It’s so satisfying to go on this emotional rollercoaster, and I’m confident we’ll reach even greater heights than that kiss!

[lullabyes22-blog]

my supreme, what is your opinion on the first three episodes of arcane season 2?

hhfdgffd

<3

The only supreme is Fortiche - and a huge round of applause to them for the animation in S2. Every frame is like lickable visual cake icing and my eyeballs scream for more.

Also in keeping with food metaphors -

First 3 eps are good soup. Tasty soup. Well-presented soup.

However.

There are clumps in this soup that were absent in S1. The flow is not as seamless. Transitions feel jarring and the dialogue overall feels distinctly more flavorless. First time I watched S1, there were entire lines of dialogue I ended up memorizing, and that dialogue continues to pack a well-deserved punch 3 years later.

This time around, the scripts feel distinctly more... Marvel-esque?

High on quip calorie, low on substantive content.

I highly suspect there was a great deal of executive meddling behind the scenes, given corporate were not expecting Arcane to crunch the numbers it did + the scripts being incomplete. That, and the storyline kept getting passed between different writing departments, with different chefs trying to spice the broth. All of this might account for the relative lack of cohesion and its weird sense of hypercompression

I don't know if it'll improve or get worse. We're only at 3 eps, and the rest of the story's still waiting to be told, so I reserve any real criticism until then.

But overall, yeah.

It's still gourmet soup, but I feel as if the soup's been zapped in a microwave, ykwim?

Beyond that, the series is still a treat. Truly sumptuous soundtrack, and inspiring cinematography. The fight scenes legit made me catch my breath. You can feel the love poured into every frame.

Fuhrer Caitlyn gassing Zaun was not on my Bingo card, tho.

Nor was Jesus Viktor.

I am A-OK with the Arcane eating Heimerdinger. But gimme back Jayce and Ekko, pls. They got character arcs (and ship breakups) to suffer through </3

I also do not think the writers of the show were expecting world affairs to pivot quite the way they have - /gestures vaguely at RL - because leaving aside character motivations in a self-contained fictional setting, the critical literary lens and interpretive optics between Zaun and Piltover overall are gonna lead to some, hehehe, interesting fandom discourse.

On my part, I can't wait to see every single one of these beloved characters spiral to the depths, hit rock bottom, and hopefully climb back out as wiser human beings.

I also expect some of 'em to die.

:')

Overall: 8/10. Very yummy indeed.

[danidrabbles]

They're so sweet 🥹

With the way you wrote this, everything reads kind of drunk and fuzzy, too. Like Reader experiences things going kind of too slow and too fast at the same time, they're processing their thoughts about how it feels and what Stan is doing a little slower, and I adored that writing choice!

I love the way Reader is fighting to keep some sort of presence of mind in this part,

"that feel good for you, honey?" you breathe, your legs twitching at stan licks sloppy stripes into you. a moan falls from your lips unbidden, but you keep talking, "you like making me come? you made me feel so good."

Like they're clearly fucked out, but soooo dertermined to give Stan that praise 🥹 And the way he's getting himself off on it after, still between their legs 😳😳😳 That was so good.

I also love how you so effortlessly weave characterization into a shorter piece like this. Stan immediately complaining about his knees after, but also that it's been worth the discomfort, is such an example of that, it really made me grin.

The headcanons you put at the end were so 😳, I'm not used to headcanons being added in after a fic like that, but um, I can get used to that!!!! It was such a fun way to be in their world a little longer.

Lovely as always, thanks for sharing 🥰

i haven't posted any writing recently so have a really informal imagine-type scenario of something that's been on my mind for a few days!! imagine drunk sex with stan after a date... umm i accidentally dove headfirst into stan's praise kink so he gets a little subby here but i'm sure no one's complaining. under the cut:

so good stan/reader (gender-neutral) pre/during/post-canon/unspecified smut, 1237 words warnings: drunk sex! but an established relationship (bonus: drunk nsfw stan headcanons)

the both of you are barely inside, but you're all over each other. you almost forget to lock the front door through giggly kisses that taste like cheap beer, and stan is so grabby and touchy you leave half your outfit on the floor by the time you make it to your room. stan wiggles his brows and asks, "you wanna mess around?" and you laugh because he's already got you topless on the edge of the bed. obviously, you're getting some tonight.

but then you're not laughing, you're gasping, because stan is kissing down your neck, your chest, tugging your clothes off as he sinks down to the floor and moves your legs over his big broad shoulders. you think it's really unfair that you're almost fully naked and he's got all his clothes on but you can't say anything because then stan is mouthing over your underwear and "wow, oh, fuck, shit that feels good," and stan moans over your crotch when you lay on your back and rake your hands through his hair.

he's so good at this, even when he's drunk and doesn't exactly have the precision to find those spots that feel extra good. he makes up for it by tugging your underwear down (he doesn't even move when you have to lift your hips and grind into his face to get them off) and immediately getting lost in it. he moans at the taste of you, loud, like he's getting just as much out of it as you are. his tongue is so warm and he's gripping the tops of your thighs to keep them spread wide, even as they start to shake.

"that's good, fuck stan, so good for me." your breathing is heavy and your moans are just tumbling out of your mouth, you're still drunk, you can't control them, but stan literally whines into you and it's so fucking hot you don't care. one of his big hands squeezes your thigh before letting go of you, falling out of sight. you just tug his soft hair and keep babbling, "shit, shit, fuck, you're making me feel so good—ah, fuck, i'm—there, just like that, that's—fuck, yeah, you're gonna make me come, baby," and your moans get pitchy and your body goes tense and you fall apart on stan's tongue so much easier than you expected to.

but stan doesn't stop. he laps at you, cleans you up, even when you collapse onto your back, gasping and bucking your hips, your hand twisted in his hair. he's still moaning, the sound low and needy, and when you lean up enough to prop one elbow behind you, his eyes are screwed shut. his brows are furrowed in focus.

you realize the arm that isn't over your thigh is down, where you can't see, between his legs. stan is palming his dick through his pants, drawing grunts and little muffled sounds from his mouth. you're dizzy at the revelation, at the thought of stan being just as desperate and just as drunk as you are, so eager to get his mouth on you that he can't even bother to get his pants off.

"that feel good for you, honey?" you breathe, your legs twitching at stan licks sloppy stripes into you. a moan falls from your lips unbidden, but you keep talking, "you like making me come? you made me feel so good."

"fmmmph," stan says into you, making you jump slightly at the vibration. but you giggle softly when you loosen your grip on his hair to gently scratch his scalp instead, playing with his hair, messing it up. his head lolls wherever your hand moves it, but his mouth stays on you. his arm moves rhythmically, and though you can't see it, you can tell from the way his body rocks slightly that he's humping into his hand.

"so good," you say, more of a drunken note-to-self than anything, but stan makes another noise at that. you grind your hips into his mouth and stan's jaw goes slack, his tongue flat and still, so you can rock yourself against it. "ah, fuck, i'm sensitive—feels so good, stan. this makes you feel good too, huh? you wanna come like this?"

stan nods, miniscule. you still your hips and tug his hair once, just gently, so he knows he can move his mouth again. stan does, moaning softly against your skin, his tongue getting lazy and clumsy so he can focus more on the feeling of humping against his own hand. you do your part, playing up your moans, your gasps, your praising words, "fuck, that's good, your mouth is so hot, you're so good for me."

stan's hips twitch into his hands, grinding against it. his moans get louder, his mouth slips away from you so he can press his face against your inner thigh, and then his breath hitches, and he's—something jumps in your chest, warm and excited and affectionate as stan groans through his orgasm. he's pressing his hips hard into his hand. he's drooling onto your thigh. then he sighs, his shoulders untensing as those last few waves of pleasure slowly subside.

"there we go," you soothe, looking down at him though lidded eyes as he catches his breath. stan blinks, slowly, and peeks up at you. you smile when your eyes meet, and stan chuckles, presses a sloppy, wet kiss to your inner thigh. "was that good for you?"

"you kiddin'?" stan slurs, drunk off of beer and off of you, and you laugh as he groans and pushes himself up. he only stands tall enough to climb onto the bed, grunting at the pops from his joints. his voice is low and gravelly, even more than usual as he remarks, "ugh, jesus, my knees—it was worth it. holy smokes."

"holy smokes?" you laugh, shifting to the side to make room before stan collapses beside you with a gruff sigh. you're grinning as he takes you in his arms without question, tugging your naked body onto him. there's a warm, wet spot on his slacks, so you don't feel bad about straddling his thigh and tucking your head into the collar of his shirt. "ugh, you smell sweaty."

"really? you're gonna get on my case after all the work i just put in?" stan has one arm wrapped around you, and he massages his jaw with his other hand. but he's smiling, too.

"the work we put in," you correct him. then you sigh into his neck, finally relaxing. you press a kiss to his skin, and then you smile to yourself when he relaxes, too. "it's okay. i like how smelly you are."

"you're a real doll, you know that?" stan says, sarcastic. his hand rubs soothing lines up and down your spine.

"and you're so good for me," you drawl, low and coy. stan's hand freezes. you can practically hear his blush. you give it a few seconds.

then you burst out laughing, even when he shoves you off him and rolls on top to press you into the mattress as revenge, threatening you to "keep that pretty mouth shut before i shut it for you!" but stan is grinning above you, a little shy, but giddy. there's a warmth in his eyes that makes you tug him down for a kiss. it's drunken and clumsy and messy, with way too much tongue. it's perfect.

(mostly) nsfw drunk stan headcanons:

okay starting off strong with something that's literally not a hc but i want to get beer drunk and smush my face into stan's beer gut. can you imagine. whaaat the fuck

stan gets sooo touchy when he's drunk. he's touchy all the time, he can barely even stand too far away from you, but when he's drunk he gets real clingy. he loves to pull you in by your hip, your waist, pressing kisses to the top of your head and grinning like an idiot when it makes you giggle

he's also so much more loose. he's able to be normal and casual around you sober, but drunk he's so openly giggly and playful and obsessed with you!!! he likes you so much!!!

he has two wolves...... the horny one jumps out so quick around you when he's had a few drinks what do you expect from someone with a dry spell as long as his

stan's so obsessed with making you feel good and get loud and he usually fulfills his praise kink that way. but when he's drunk and less hyperaware of how you feel, he's desperate for some outright verbal praise. he wants to be told he's good and he makes you feel good because it makes him feel sooo good

tried my best to make this reader gender-neutral but he's such a munch it's not even funny. again when he can focus less on you and more on his own oral fixation he can't NOT go down on you even when you're totally done. he loves how you taste. he could probably finish just from that, without touching himself at all.....

thanks so much for reading!!!

[mari-lair]

For Bonnie writing I think a lot of people get so hung up on them being a kid that they forget that Bonnie is decently smart and they do understand what's going on around them. I fully believe that Bonnie understands that they are looping and that understand Siffrin can't remember. i think they go through a lot more effort trying to 'fix' what they can control. Make people happy make sure everone eats, make sure everyone is standing in a fight with their items. But because Bonnie is so much younger I think they have much more fragile breaking points. They get overwhelmed a lot easier not because they don't understand the loops but because no matter what they'll always be the most helpless to do anything. Even if they get stronger they can't fight the king. Even if they make sure everyone eats and is healed they can't stop the loops. Cant save their sister, cant keep everyone's spirits up. I think Bonnie suffers most in the way that they're forced to be a bystander because they're 'the kid' they dont feel like their efforts are enough. Of course they're incredibly wrong but if isat had reliable narrators it wouldn't be isat

That's it, that's my biggest struggle, juggling what Bonnie would understand, what they won't, and what they know but don't want to talk/think about it. That's easily the hardest part of trying to write Bonnie T-T

Exemple: siffrin being crushed by a rock in the 'death corridor'? Even if the adults don't let them see the body they can connect the dots of exactly how 'hurt' siffrin was. But I personally think they wouldn't want to think about Sif being gone, even if temporarily. It would take a few deaths for them to explode "i am not an idiot i know what happen everytime sif 'get hurt,' and we loop!"

But Siffrin saying "sure I remember that very important moment we had, power of friendship is strong." like a liar, would make them go "you do?!" instead of going "you're not in the time loop, rationally I know that you don't, liar." cause they want siffrin to remember so bad, and siffrin is enough of a good actor to be able to fool a kid once (and accidentally make things way worse for bonnie) depending on what scenario plague my vision I can even see the first lie not being caught until hindsight so Sif gets to lie a solid two times about it.

I personally think Bonnie would understand they are in the timeloop (world restart, only the family beside Sif remembers. Consequences don't last. ) but it would take a considerable amount of loops for them to get the full extent/implications of how that affect things, especially since everyone acts at least a tad different each loop (perks of the family not going out of their way to repeating their lines/ acting very different all the times) and bonnie complicated relationship with siffrin.

Your ask gave me a lot of inspiration though. Bonnie trying to fix the loops makes so much sense, SO MUCH SENSE.

[solar4seekstron]

Tf1!Orion Pax/Optimus Prime x Cybertronian!GN!Reader Oneshot: Meet Again

A special thanks to @heavenlykunoichi for requesting this. I had so much fun as always writing for our boy OP. No matter which OP he is lol. I hope you all enjoy and a repost is always appreciated.

Tw/Tags: not much just fluff and op asking you on a date:

You knew Orion as the little dare devil around the mines and city. You were always a part of the same shift and while you two don’t always talk much…..Yeah you both pined for each other for a good while. You thought he was cute and funny can others really blame you? Same thing goes to him. Everytime you aren’t around he immediately starts talking to D about you.

And D always responds with ‘go talk to them then. And let me sleep.’ But Orion never does shut up. And so after that you both continued on as you both always exchange looks and smiles. Both too shy to really try to speak to eachother.

It wasn’t until one day when he randomly disappeared. Only for Sentinel to say he and his best friend died due to their race wounds. You hated yourself ever since.

You never cared for the race and just took the opportunity to go in the city and look for treats for yourself since your friends descided to go the stadium. Even as you dealt with the daily racism and made your way into he store with whatever money you head. You didn’t pay much attention to all the TVs playing the race.

Even by chance missing the part where the announcer says ‘two miners’ every time.

And so after some time you were a lot more down and out of it. Even at times not hearing the surprises like Darkeing making racist and even remarks toawrds your frame as their way of flirting. That didn’t stop them though.

Out of no where Sentnel would order for you all to do more and more shifts even over time. And so that’s all you did. Even ignoring the superiors as kept at it. The only thing keeping you to keep going is the memory of Orion. And so you don’t stop even when Darking tried to convince that he can take you out of work.

When Orion returned, now with a cog. You were still in the mines for one of the shifts in order to help others to continue and go faster.

Orion was pretty saddened. And the pain in his spark was heavy.

During the fight when the secret of Sentinel was realesed. You were one of the bots pushing the carts. You even pushed the carts down in anger as you yelled along side the others. You and the other miners then leave to go to the surface. From there you watched as D fought sentinel. And then Orion..and then…

You saw him die…. You were one of the bots who watched in horror. The pain in your optics as you could only watch. And then as D became Megatron…..Orion came back!!!

You felt joy in your spark as you watched him. He and Megatron then engage into battle. You could only watch until Optimus woukld soon claim victory. Banishing Megatron to the surface. And from there. Energon came back. And you had a cog! But you weren’t really able to greet Optimus as he cheered with the other former miners. So many others kept getting to him first. That the day was already almost over. You all got to stay in hotels and empty houses now that you cant really stay in the sleeping quarters.

And so you stayed in one of the hotels close by the tower where Optimus is staying. Most likely in a meeting with his closest friends. As you stared up at the tower of the window before heading to recharge. The next day you were looking for new work but made sure to stay close to the tower. For any chance to see Optimus.

As you spoke to Ratchet to help with patience. Since you always wanted to work in medican. You would then hear a voice from afar.

”Y/N!” you turned around and saw Optimus. You walked up to you and waved as others watched him and cheered. He defiantly has a crowd. Ratchet lets you know he’ll be expecting you in his office and be apply to have you join.

You thanked him and looked at Optimus. You both stood there only a few inches from each other and stared into each others optics. You both then about to speak first until Optimus apologized and said you first.

”S-so prime huh? And you just had to leave work for over a day?” He chuckled rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down. You sighed and held your cervos together as you looked down as well. He looked back at you. “Optimus I’ve been wanting to ask….um…since you’ve been busy and all…”

”Yeah?’ He said softly as he stared down at you. His optics soft as he did take a step closer to you. You still don’t move. “I-I well I always had a sort of…crush on you..and..”

You’d then feel a cervo on your shoulder. Only to get your attention as it moved to gently hold you chin as you looked up at him.

”I…like you too…I know we didn’t do much ‘cause well I didn’t always know what to say to you…but would you like to…go out sometime? Like lunch or something?” You only stared at him with puppy eyes. Feeling so much joy.

”I..I’d love to Optimus..” He chuckled as he keeps looking at you with admiration. “I’ll comm you then Sweetspark.” He turns, his cervo leaving from holding your chin. Until he stopped and looked back at you. Walking closer to you again.

”Oh and before I forget.” He then leaned down. A cervo behind your back and another on your wrist. Gently being held as before you knew it. His dermas were on yours. As soft kiss and passionate. It didn’t take much time for you to return the kiss.

Closing your optics as he did the same. Both of you stayed like this for a moment longer as others watched and walked by. He eventually pulled away and winked at you. “Until then Sweetspark.”

”Until then….sweetspark.” You’d say as he walked off. You finally did it…..YOU HAVE A DATE WITH HIM. You’re definitely a lucky bot in this city for sure! You couldn’t be any more happy!

This was so fun to write! I enjoyed writing for OP and ugh I love writing his cuteness and how silly he can be. I always enjoy writing for him and I had lots of fun with this Oneshot. I hope you all enjoyed and read my other works. I hope you all have a good rest of your day and continue to enjoy my later works.

[useless-catalanfacts]

Now it's been a week since the floods, but we must remember that the damage is not nearly over. It will take months and years for the affected families to recover. And that's not counting that 215 people have died and 78 are still missing. Many homes, streets, fields, schools, etc are destroyed. I'm glad for all the solidarity we've seen this first week, but they are going to be needing help for a long time to recover.

All the local organizations are thankful but for some days have been asking for people to stop sending them objects (tools, clothes, food, etc) because the collection points have so many that they can't manage them and they don't even need so many of some things being sent, for this reason there are storehouses full of materials that they don't need but people keep sending and some volunteers are having to stay there to coordinate the stuff that arrives instead of being where they're needed. So, please, don't send any more things unless you are coordinated directly with a local association there that asked for a specific thing. They say that the most useful donations now are money and not any more food nor second-hand objects. (Again, thank you very much because this overwhelming response speaks of the goodness and solidarity of everyone who immediately reacted by sending things! but let's do it in a coordinated way with the affected people to make sure it's useful).

Also, recently some well-meaning people have been sharing fundraisers to help the victims, but some of these posts seem to be made by outsiders compiling what they found on Twitter, which ended up spreading fundraisers that belong to far right-wing groups, the Catholic Church, and to associations that aren't well known in the area.

If you can make an economical donation to help these people who have lost everything in a day, these are some trustworthy associations:

Fundraiser by Fundació Horta Sud. This is a foundation created by many local associations of the Horta Sud area, one of the areas that has been the most impacted by the catastrophe. It's a well-known foundation that brings together many local associations. This and the next one are the fundraising that is most recommended by people on the ground working on immediate needs.

Casals i Ateneus dels Països Catalans (federation of social centres of the Catalan Countries) has many social centres in the affected areas and is coordinated with trade unions to provide immediate needs. The bank number for donations is ES74 3025 0002 4614 3344 7057.

Fundraiser to help small family-owned farmers (farmers are one of the poorest segments of population in our country, families own a small plot of land and they're very threatened by big corporations, they're at the forefront of fighting for climate and the rural communities' traditional way of living with nature). The fundraiser is created by the International Centre of Rural and Agriculture Studies (Centro de Estudios Rurales y de Agricultura Internacional). This is the fundraiser shared by trustworthy Valencian associations that work in favour of rural communities and traditional cuisine, such as Tasta'l d'ací.

Fundraiser for the grass-roots cultural associations and cultural heritage guardians, organized by the Federation of Local Studies Institutes of the Valencian Country, the Coordinator of Local Studies Centres of the Catalan-Speaking Countries, the Federation of "Ateneus" of Catalonia, and the Ramon Muntaner Institute. Many local archives, centres of local studies, "ateneus" (social and cultural centres with an important task as a library for the community and as historians of the area, among other cultural activities) and other cultural associations headquarters have been destroyed. They are very important for the memory, history and culture of small areas. To write articles about the history and legends for this blog, I very often use work published by these local study groups, because most of the time they are the only ones working in detail on the historical and cultural heritage of their hometown. Here is the information on how to donate, as shared by the organizers:

Translation: Let's help the Valencian cultural and heritage associations affected by the 2024 floods. You can send your donations to [the bank number] ES98 3159 0066 91 3048828523 Or the BIZUM code 10586 (starting on 7th November 2024). You can send the receipt of your donation to: solidaritatcultura@fedinespv.org.

You can find more associations that are collecting donations in this document by Suport Mutu DANA València.

Thank you very much for caring.

[sincerely-sofie]

Sofie Plays Cult of the Lamb but She Writes out a Play-by-Play instead of Recording Anything: Part 1

Obby was hanging out with me for this one!

Still dying laughing over the fact that the only follower I can bully is the follower my beloved boyfriend made.

Unlocked Knucklebones. Won against Ratau at 60-35 points. Immediately started getting really excited about destroying Narinder in this game once I indoctrinate him and Obby gently broke the news that Ratau is bad at the game.

New headcanon unlocked: Ratau goes easy on the Lamb whenever playing together.

Clicked manually to collect each individual piece of divine inspiration and Obby almost exploded.

Me: Aw man, I forgot I have to sacrifice someone :< Obby: *Grabbing the sides of his webcam* ME ME ME KILL ME

Legitimately started discussing with Obby how to sacrifice his birdman avatar in the most cost-effective manner.

Questing to get an outhouse and still haven't unlocked it. Tragic.

OBBY LEFT TO GRAB DINNER AND PUT ON A SUBWAY SURFERS GAMEPLAY VIDEO WHILE HE WAS GONE "SO (I) WOULDN'T GET BORED"

Jooryn seems to becoming friends with Amdusias. This feels thematically relevant.

ENTERED DARKWOOD TO FINALLY GO ON A CRUSADE AFTER BLESSING ALL MY FOLLOWERS AND GOT HECKIN LESHY'D. I HATE THIS FOREST

I'm a pro gamer. Trust me.

Obby slowly added onto the Subway Surfers gameplay video overlay a Family Guy clip compilation overlay, an overlay of PMD: EoS gameplay, and an overlay of a video explaining the functions of ADHD. Meanwhile, I was spinning heart emojis around his face in my head.

The enemies Leshy keeps summoning know how to dodge roll. Meanwhile I can't even remember how to summon curses for longer than two seconds. Good thing spamming Attack will definitely always work for me!

Obby: I knew you'd like that guy! Me: "Like" is a strong word.

Entered Leshy's boss fight and watched the opening cutscene while having this exchange:

Me: Ohhh he has fuzzy legs!!! (Leshy transforms into his boss form) Obby: He no longer has fuzzy legs :(

Just got our first elderly follower! I immediately ascended him. Sorry Artre, you looked too much like Sonic the Hedgehog.

Heket woke up and chose violence! Girl same!

@billycorn OH NO

I survived the miniboss fight :) I did great :)

Follower Obby just lives for the bit, huh

First follower romance! Nomre, the first follower to join the cult, was proposed to by Gusion. Cute!

SICK JOOTY!!!!

Unlocked the Silk Cradle and Anchordeep because Nomre wasn't happy with the flowers Gusion proposed with, and now I need beets and cauliflower in the next three days to help move things along.

@onlyhereforghosttrick I'm so sorry. This seems to be what happens when you're only here for Ghost Trick in Cult of the Lamb.

WHY DO THE BISHOPS ALL HAVE IT OUT FOR BILLYCORN

Spent an unholy amount of time delving through the Silk Cradle and Anchordeep looking for beets and cauliflower. I almost ended up unlocking Shamura's boss fight in the hunt. Kallamar got his cowardly reputation when he saw me raging through his domain in search of cauliflower and only growing more powerful and furious the longer I went without finding it.

Anyhoo. Got beet seeds and some cauliflower eventually :3

[local-lamppost]

Initial thoughts cause it's 4am

Spoilers

First off, wow... it's really good. I've been saying that if season 2 is as good as season 1 Arcane would be my new favorite show and we are on track. Anyway, just gonna list stuff until I can process/rewatch a billion times

Mel lived! I was so certain that they would just kill her off, make that Ambessa's motive (give Jayce a reason to keep fighting the Undercity) but it's much more interesting keeping her involved in the narrative. Love her trying to bother understand and undermine her mother. Those Black Rose guys best not have hurt a hair on her perfect head.

Speaking of. What in the Utena are these Black Rose magic people? I love the look of their magic. I wonder how they can corrupt people. Is it a spell? Do they slip them something?

Love how the divide of Jayce and Viktor was done. Jayce betrayed Viktor's wishes of destroying the Hexcore. Last season, Viktor wanted to forget about using the core to save himself after Sky and begged Jayce to destroy it when the core wouldn't allow Viktor himself to do it. In Jayce's mind though, the core is the solution to Viktor's problems. He didn't know it killed Sky or that it can influence Viktor, but all Viktor can comprehend is that Jayce didn't trust him. Didn't keep his promise. And this is fresh off of Jayce's season 1 antics against the Undercity, so Viktor's faith in his partner was already shaken. Viktor's also comfortable in his mortality/death, even though he wants to prolong it like every other human, but Jayce can't fathom loosing Viktor-the man who saved his life and made his dreams reality.

(Side note: Am I a JayVik shipper? I never considered myself one, but after writing this...)

JINX HAS A KID! I love this choice. Give Jinx a kid so she is able to learn what Silco and Vi had to go through with her, that no matter how big or dangerous a scheme to take this child into account. The confrontation in ep 3 really showed what Jinx will have to consider now that this kid's decided to adopt her as an older sister or something. Especially nice detail of how Vi-who has always had to consider the kids in her life-immediately stops fighting and starts looking for ways to keep the kid safe.

I was wondering how Jinx would loose a finger and Caitlyn shooting it off to save Vi is just- The fact that the only way these two can show they care about Vi when it comes to each other is by hurting the other.

Sevika's new arm is fantastic. It's a peace offering from Jinx, but also a way for Jinx to feel better (it was something she could fix). The mechanics of it are really fun. It reminds me of Kite's weapon from HxH with how it didn't always work/give her what she wanted in the fight. I especially love the victory rockets and built in theme song.

Ambessa is so interesting. Between her character song to the introduction of just what she is fighting against, I am very intrigued. She reminds me of Cersei Lannister, except she loves her kids as more than just extensions of herself (as of what we've seen, but I think that'll stick). Her using Salo to establish herself-which also keeps Mel safe by distancing her-but also dropping him in order to prop up Cait at her first opportunity is such a clever move. She truly is the fox and the wolf, but she is above all a mama bear.

Not much to say about Heimerdinger or Ekko yet, but I am definitely curious to see what they do about the wild runes with Jayce. The three of them have a fun dynamic, what with Heimerdinger still being peeved about magic/being ousted, Ekko hating topside and having a new reason to do so with them poisoning his tree, and Jayce being recently seperated and divorced from both his partners.

Vi is an enforcer. I didn't know how they were gonna handle this, but they did it so well. Of course she wants to fix things for the people her sister hurt. She feels responsible. She can say she doesn't blame herself, but how true is that? Why else would she be wearing a badge if not for her guilt? She is desperate to do something right and being an enforcer seemed to be a way to make Cait happy, get her gauntlets (what she believes is necessary to make any kind of change), and be first in line in the hunt for Jinx. She says that her sister is dead, that Jinx is a desecration to Powder's memory, that they are not sisters but isn't it supposed to be 'nothing is going to change that'? How much of all this is just something Vi is telling herself to keep going? Cait is her motive right now, but after ep 3 I definitely see why she starts spiraling.

(2 Side note: Her new best friend/drinking buddy is such a real one. They have a bender in the gutter together and now he's following her into and out of the enforcers. I wonder if he knew Vander? In any case, he is a delight.)

Cait and Vi kissed... CAIT AND VI KISSED! Then NOTHING HAPPENED AFTER! NOTHING! No immediate break up, nope.

So Cait. I love Cait and I am hyped for her arc this season. I am ready to fight tooth and nail for her. I am a Caitlyn defender. So what she's being manipulated into leading a military state due to her grief/unresolved anger/guilt/Ambessa being better at this than her, she looks amazing in her cape. It balances.

Seriously though, the writing for Cait especially is so solid. She is desperate to hold herself and her family together, to protect her city. She still wants to protect the innocent, to heal the Undercity, but her anger at a select few of those she wants to help is clouding the greater image for her. Vi seems to be acting as her better half, the side that cares for the innocent-the protector. Ambessa is the agressor, encouraging Cait to take drastic military action against the Undercity as a whole. Vi's disillusionment with Cait is due to the fact that Cait desire to heal, not harm, is what caused her to fall for Cait to begin with. To see more than some privileged topside enforcer, but a woman who genuinely cared and was willing to abandon her peaceful naivety to learn for the greater good of strangers.

I'll also point out that they separate when Cait starts blaming Vi for them loosing Jinx. Before, everyone but Cait put responsibility on Vi, she was supposed to be the one to help lighten the load and absolve some of the guilt. Now Cait is becoming another one of those who slam the blame on Vi. She changed. Why does everyone around VI change?

Can't wait for the next batch of episodes.

[thedreadvampy]

At Meeting today we had a reflective post-worship meeting to share our feelings on Palestine and I was really sceptical tbh because as much as I believe in the Quaker approach to holding space I also. felt like having a sharing circle about your feelings about an actual genocide is unbelievably White Middle Class Leftist Woo?

except the thing is it turns out I really fucking needed that? like I don't think I've really found much space to just give voice to the fucking ANGER and HOPELESSNESS I feel about the fact that this is a thing being done on purpose, by a tiny group of people against the will of the vast majority, and because of that all our screaming and protesting and demanding and letter writing isn't doing shit but I don't have the personal wherewithal to be the kind of guy who risks years in prison to shut down an arms factory because I'm, you know. A coward. And that would make me a liability. and the fucking despair I'm having lately at how much is horrifically inhumanly fucked in our world, ON PURPOSE, and BY DESIGN, and how powerless it feels in the face of that. the grief is too big to feel and the anger has nowhere to go. and in the knowledge that demonstrative action is going to go ignored because politicians have made the active choice to continue this no matter what the people want, everything just starts to feel petty and performative and egotistical instead of meaningful, and I am struggling more and more to hold the faith that anything I do matters. like I know, in my heart and mind, that things m fighting for justice feels hopeless for years or decades or generations and it feels like nothing will change until it does, and it's on us to keep fighting for that. despair is a luxury we can't afford. But still. you can break yourself on this wall without making a dent and it's because this isn't Just Happening, specific people are making specific choices, on purpose and with the full knowledge of what they're doing, and what do you do with that????

anyway I cried a Lot and it was uhhhh it felt good to have done. it felt good to hold and be held by other people in similar places. is it embarrassingly sentimental and privileged to have a sharing circle about a genocide? yeah maybe but unfortunately there might be something to it, also.