#you know I had to do a post on this eventually

[esotericbluntbaby]

compensation

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: going against your wishes, your boyfriend decides to fight another match after spraining his wrist the last time he boxed. injured, he returns home to his girlfriend, who can't help but feel more than just "angry."

mentions: boxer!hamzah, bf!hamzah, angsttt, female reader, sub! hamzah, blood, bruises, nsfw!

GUYS IM SORRY I FORGOT TO POST THIS PLS DONT KILL ME

--

this was the first time that hamzah kept you in the dark, betraying your trust in him.

he was always a strong-willed, passionate boy; in fact, it was one of the things you found attractive in him. he kickstarted his youtube with his resilience and determination. giving up was simply not an option for him; one way or another, plan after plan, he'd get his goal even if it meant he had to cut off his limbs and sell them. if hamzah wanted something, he would get it, similar to a horse kicking whenever it's being restrained. though, normally, he knew when to stop pushing, especially when the cost was more than the benefit.

the last time hamzah boxed, his wrist fractured like a 6 year old cracks a wishbone. you, obviously, knew that getting hurt was apart of his hobby; you didn't like it, but you accepted that it was inevitable for some part of him to be banged up and broken. he allowed you to stay in the hospital with him during the time he was getting monitored, meaning that you were allowed to hear the doctor tell him that he had to wait 6 weeks to box again.

during the hospital visit, hamzah realized he had a match in exactly 5 weeks. you argued with him, telling him that there would be no way in hell that he'd be able to box until his wrist is fixed. of course, being as stubborn as a mule, hamzah argued back that he had to fight if his life depended on it. eventually, the night settled in as you laid in bed together that night, cuddling; he told you that you were right. reassuring you that he wouldn't be fighting, he kissed you goodnight. you thought you wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.

that was, until tonight, an hour after the match: when hamzah walked in the front door, bloody and bruised.

his eye began to swell, darkening around the indents of his skull. the black eye that adorned his face was accompanied by a deep gash that exposed the layer beneath his skin. he looked at you with guilt plastered in his banged up face, furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips being muted by the extent of his injuries. you didn't have to guess where he was: you felt betrayed by the fact that you knew exactly what he went out to do. alongside his injuries and deception, came a girlfriend who wasn't going to speak to him.

--

not a single word was said when you grabbed his other wrist and walked to the bathroom with him; the room was filled with silence and guilt radiating off of him. he was currently sitting on the toilet seat as you rummaged around the medicine cabinet for materials that would help you fix his wounds. though you were upset, you weren't going to leave him to tend to his own injuries; you were still his girlfriend, after all. sitting on the floor, you grabbed his wrist to check how worsened it became.

"baby-"

"no, hamzah."

from your previous arguments, you knew that hamzah has a habit of overloading you with pet names. he knew he fucked up; you know he fucked up. him starting his sentence with "baby" helped you realize that he knew he's in the doghouse.

taking the textured, cotton gauze, you began to wrap his wrist with a softness that foiled your emotions towards him. you felt his eyes trained on you like the aimbot of a video game; his gazed fixated on every single movement you made. he noticed the way that you still looked so pretty even when you were mad at him. the way your face looked, tensed and full of agitation, created a pool of guilt that he swam in. he hated making you upset, but he simply needed to box. it was passion. it was commitment. he had to do it; at least, that's what he was telling himself. however, no matter how much he told himself that he had to fight, he knew it was wrong of him to go against your wishes and back. he knew you wanted the best for him and his physical being.

"i'm sorry. i shouldn't have gone tonight. i was being stupid and i shouldn't have went behind your back like that."

you listened to him apologize, yet, didn't respond. in fact, you didn't even look at him. there was no acknowledgement of his apology; it was almost like it never even happened in the first place. he needed to know how truly upset you were. instead, you focused on wrapping his wrist with a second layer of gauze, to keep everything in place.

"baby, please. just talk to me- i don't care if you cuss me out or give me hell for betraying you like that, just- please talk to me," his mannerisms were tense and rushed, "how do i fix this? how do i get you to speak to me? i'll do anything- i swear- you want me to quit boxing completely? i will. you want me to do all the housework in this house? i will- i'll do every single chore. shit, if even just sitting in a corner for days with no food or water would get you to speak to me, i'd do that. please, baby- please."

you finished wrapping the gauze by the time he finished his speech about what he'd do to get you to speak to him. you began to touch his face, examining the bruise on his eye and cheekbone like a scientist looking through a microscope. suddenly, he grabbed you by the cheek, forcing you to look up at him.

"i'm sorry. please, just speak to me. i'll do anything. talk to me. i just wanna hear your voice."

listening to him yearn for your voice made you feel a certain type of way. yes, you were mad. however, in a way, this whole situation was turning you on. you hated to admit it, but your boyfriend looked attractive with a black eye and bruised cheekbone. the fact that he was begging for you to speak to him made the sexual tension you were feeling within you even worse. his submissive side was creating a potion of ecstasy in your stomach; you wanted to see how far he'd go.

you sighed, "i don't know anymore, hamzah. you told me you wouldn't. i trust you less."

"i know, pretty, i'm sorry. i'll earn it back, i promise. i shouldn't have gone tonight. i was being an idiot."

standing up as his face followed where your eyes were, you rubbed it against his open wound, earning a wince from him as he gripped onto your waist. butterflies emerged in your stomach, causing you to feel similar to how light a fairy is.

"thanks for the warning," he said with sarcasm and irritation laced in his voice, opening his eyes from the hard shut he indulged in

"you don't deserve one."

he pulled you onto his lap, causing you to straddle him on the toilet seat. taking your cheeks, he cupped your face in his hands and sighed. he looked at you with a level of submissiveness you haven't seen in him. normally, hamzah was the dominant one; yet, you didn't mind that the roles switched.

"what can i do to get you to not be mad at me?"

"i dunno. you're a smart boy," you grabbed his cheek and stroked it with your thumb, "figure it out, baby."

you saw a lightbulb flicker on in his eyes. he sensed the tension in the room wasn't only angry, but there was also sexual tension in its silver lining.

"you want me to make it up to you?"

you leaned towards his ear, now whispering, "how are you gonna do that, hamzah?"

you felt something poke at your ass from beneath you, a slight twitch emerging from it too. your words made him as hard as a rock.

that's so fucking hot.

"baby, i thought you were mad at me."

"oh, i am. trust me, i'm fucking pissed."

he kissed you on the cheek, "i'm sorry."

he kissed you on the jawline, "i'm sorry."

he kissed you on the lips, "i'm sorry."

moving down to your neck, he kissed it longer than the pecks he gave you previously. you felt a sucking motion, as well as his tongue swirling on your sweet spot, shortly after. your breath got heavier, almost as if your lungs were being weighed down by hot air. your lips parted as he sucked a dark spot onto your neck.

"i'm sorry, pretty girl. forgive me?"

"not yet."

his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "why not?"

"i need more than that."

"tell me what you need, pretty. i'll do it."

you leaned closer to his ear, kissing his neck and the area between, "you know what i want from you."

standing up from the toilet seat, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you to your bedroom. your lips began to intertwine with his as he walked through the hallway, your tongues melting together like two lollipops on a hot day. he laid you down on the bed, still kissing you with everything he had; he needs you to forgive him.

letting go of your lips, he moved closer to the edge of the bed, taking off your shorts and leaving you in your underwear. feeling exposed in front of hamzah was always nerveracking in your own way; however, this time it was different. you knew hamzah had to please you, leaving you with a newfound confidence.

"are you okay with this?" he asked, exhibiting a level of care that you were all too familiar with.

"do whatever you want to me, hamzah."

taking your underwear off, you were left laying on top of your sheets in a tank top. his arms wrapped around your legs like a snake to its prey, prying your legs apart with a sense of desperation.

"you're so pretty like this baby," he kissed the inner part of your thigh, "you're so fucking pretty."

he spit on the area between your legs, earning a subtle gasp from you. his tongue began to lap on you, dropping saliva on the area of you that was already wet. between your legs, you felt the roughness and neediness of his tongue. his hands squeezed your inner thighs as pleasure began to unravel the metaphoric yarn located in your stomach. hamzah was eating the fuck out of you, leading to your moans getting louder and louder with each and every movement his tongue created against you.

his tongue produced a dance that only the both of you would know. some parts were as fast as light, while other ones were full of yearning and slowness; he knew exactly how to balance it for you to feel the best that you could feel.

your hands made its way to his hair, "you're so pretty like this, hamzah. my boy- my pretty boy."

his movements got faster as his grip against your thighs tightened even more, as if you were going to fly away if he let go. similar to his hands, you squeezed his hair as his movements quickened in pace; you could feel the yarn unraveling like a rubber band about to snap.

"f-fuck- hamzah, i'm close-"

he kissed your core, before his tongue sped to a pace you haven't felt before. you watched him eat you out like there was no tomorrow, leaving loud moans echoing the room, before he felt you release into his mouth. kissing it once again, he looked up at you as his hands massaged the pillows that he was in between. you looked at each other with love while he watched your heavy breathing and fucked-out expression.

"forgive me?"

"i forgive you. please go box someone else, baby."

confusion was apparent in his face, "what?"

"you're so fucking hot when you're bruised and yearning."

--

author's note!

this is so short omfg i hate using anatomical words for smut LOL more coming soon!

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

i just wanna be one of your girls

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — mdni, sexual content, slight manipulation, kind of dark!rafe

summary — things mean!rafe would do to desperate!reader

authors note — i’m trying my hardest to get back into writing guys i swear. heres a part 2!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

mean!rafe who absolutely loves the power he has over desperate!reader. how he can just snap his fingers and have you right at his fingertips willing to do anything he asked.

mean!rafe who thinks the crush you have on him is absolutely adorable and loves to rub it in your face. he gets a sick kick out of teasing you and keeping you close enough to still want him, even though you know he’s just out of your reach and you’ll never fully have him.

mean!rafe who hates seeing you talk to other guys at parties but will blatantly flirt with other girls in front of you. all just to see you whiny with glassy eyes and begging him to take you home where you’ll know he’ll fuck you just right.

mean!rafe who calls you at any moment for a quickie of some sort because he knows you’ll always pick up and speed over to anywhere he was to do whatever he wanted, no matter how far.

mean!rafe who’d always fuck you any chance he got in the dirtiest way to show you just how much power he had over you.

mean!rafe who’d go raw every single time simply because you let him. even begged him for it.

mean!rafe who didn’t kiss you at first because he didn’t want you getting anymore attached than you already were.

mean!rafe who’d take pictures of your face full of his cum and store them away in his hidden album to brag about with his friends later.

mean!rafe who marked you up every single time just to keep everyone else off of you. he loved seeing the deep purple bruises that littered your skin because of him.

mean!rafe who sometimes found himself getting soft with you when you cried about how you never felt good enough for him after seeing him with so many other girls. it made him feel a little guilty, something he was never used to.

mean!rafe who owned a key to your house and would show up whenever he pleased just to feel you wrapped around him.

mean!rafe who always ran back to you no matter what, even if he’d trick you into thinking it was the other way around.

mean!rafe who eventually started to develop feelings for you. he loved the clingy, desperate nature of you and it made his heart full whenever he’d stay the night after you cried and begged him too.

mean!rafe who was whimpering into your ear as he drilled into you from behind and accidentally let a soft “i love you” slip out. he later gaslit you into thinking you were so desperate for any form of affection so you made it up in that delusional head of yours.

[mauannacreates]

Thanks for the tag!

Mauanna... Well, that was initially it was supposed to be Mauana way back, but after going through the selections of names I have written down and went to Deviantart and chose Mauana, it was taken, and I think I just added the extra n to see if it was available, which worked! I did have thoughts of putting Mauana as the name for tumblr, but I was stuck with Mauanna for years already and it felt weird to part from it and start a different identity, so I had decided to keep the name as is.

The 'creates' in my username is something that could be art, story, anything that was artistically inclined. I personally didn't want to limit myself to have writes or arts. If I wanted to post a picture or drew something I wanted to share, I can. Or if I wanted to post pixel art, or crochet or whatever, I could absolutely do that. I don't want to be limited by my options I suppose! Even if most of it for the past couple of years has been blogging and writing per se, if I put something like mauannawrites or mauannaliterate, it would seem constraining to me, because it has a focus on writing or literature. Creates seemed vaguer, and I like the broader range of discussing things as they fit and whenever I want, not feel forced to stay in the topic if I eventually didn't like it. 😅

If you are questioning the actual origins of Mauanna... It's basically one of those first-middle names mashed together, which somehow works and reminded younger me of Moana. (I can't complain about that, it was a good movie!) And I like the thought that somehow, a year or so later after it's been released, I have made a name that is similar to Moana. (But that was a coincidence rather than an inspiration in and of itself.)

I'm tagging: @the-golden-comet, @sarah-sandwich and @aalinaaaaaa. But for those who are interested in letting us know the origins of your name, feel free to join in!

Tag game🎉

Tag your moots and ask them where they got the idea for their tumblr accounts name!

For my name it was a nickname I was giving back in middleschool! One of our teacher had a system where we worked with 'wifi' eachtime we talked in class we lost a bar of the "wifi" (was a weird joke and we never held count on that) All the kids usually joked if they needed 'wifi' , they would borrow mine if they wanted to talk more. (I was incredibly shy in middle school, I only talked to like 3 people at school;^;)

They called me Ms. Wifi because of that. I just thought it would be funny if I put 'miss' instead of 'ms' because of my terrible actual wifi connection I have at home lol.

That's my story! Now moots, only if you guys want to, tell us your story.

Tags-> @slipping-lately @firequeenofficial @noagskryf @twinklstarrrr @halfbakedspuds @polterwasteist @rokushi-san @mygedagtes +anyone that sees this and wants to do this as well

[hwaslayer]

the space between us three (jyh) | six.

⇢series masterlist | series playlist

⇢summary: while juggling the demands of life, yunho continues to do his best to raise his independent 11 yr old daughter, seora. throughout the years, they've built a strong foundation, an unbreakable bond— one that consists of late night talks and food runs, father/daughter dates, and sideline cheerleading at her basketball games. so when you unexpectedly come into their world, things shift. despite the uncertainty and the fear of stepping outside of their comfort zone, yunho and seora eventually learn how to open their hearts and learn how to rebuild a home where three can thrive together.

⇢pairing: single dad!yunho x f. reader

⇢genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, single dad au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

⇢word count: 6.6k

⇢chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language, seora spends time with her uncle mingi, first date <33, yunho opens up about his parents to oc, holding hands, good conversations & just a bunch of cute simp shit, goodnight kisses 🥰, i swear things will get a lil spicier next chap lmao

yunho: goodmorning. 😊

This morning had been one of those mornings. You had gotten up a little later than usual, feeling tired from the exhausting week. On top of that, you turned down Yunho's offer to bring you to work so that you wouldn't have to take the bus over; afraid you'd be asking for too much since he was gonna be driving around later tonight. Had you known the bus would be running late, you might've taken him up on it. But, with it being Friday, you were just excited to get your day over with so that you could hang out with Yunho one-on-one.

It was a blessing and a curse that it was busy as soon as you walked in this morning. A blessing because the day would breeze on by. A curse because you didn't even get a chance to respond to Yunho's cute lil text before jumping right into your task list. Until, your desktop computer decided to be stubborn and stop working properly— setting you behind even more than you already were due to the commute.

you: hi, goodmorning ☺️

you: i'm sorry for the late response! i'm having quite the morning. i have so much to do, but my desktop isn't working now. i feel so incomplet and useless. 😭

yunho: it's okay! not like i thought you forgot about me or anything .. 🥲

you: lol sorry, never!

yunho: wdym it's not working?

you: it won't stay on. keeps going on power save mode even though my settings are adjusted to never go on power save mode.

yunho: interesting. where do you sit in the peds hospital again?

you: 4th floor, M103.

yunho: i'll be over in a sec.

you: yunho?? you don't even support our unit 😭

yunho: and? lol. i have time. brb!

"What?" You mutter to yourself as you set your phone down, a little worried about Yunho getting in trouble or pushing off his work to help you. You shrug it off, scribbling in your planner and working through emails on your laptop until Yunho swings by.

Which, didn't take him long post-reply. He was at your cubicle about 15 minutes later.

"Hey." Yunho says softly.

"Hi." You shyly laugh. "How did you even get in here?"

"IT has access everywhere, believe it or not." He smiles before pointing at your desktop. "Mind if I take a look?"

"Go for it." He pulls up an empty office chair nearby and drags it over to your desk, sitting comfortably as he presses the power button. He presses it a few times and clicks away at your mouse until the screen pops up. 

"Hm." He hums. "Took awhile."

"It's gonna shut down on you."

"Is that what's been happening?"

"Mhm. Just now actually. When I get it back up and running, it'll let me work for a few minutes before it shuts off and goes into power mode randomly." He's click-clacking away on the keyboard, forehead tightly knit as he eventually rests his elbow on the desk— hand hovering over his mouth, with the other on the mouse.

"How old is your computer?"

"I don't know, maybe 8-10 years old? It was passed down from the previous project manager when I stepped into her role."

"Yikes." He laughs. "I'll try a few things, but might also be a good time to consider getting a new one." He starts pulling up the terminal and plugging in some code— language you definitely don't understand.

"Yeah, I know."

"You actively push data or other work to the cloud, right? So you have a backup and can pull it up anywhere?"

"Mhm."

"Good." He gives you a small smirk. "Then, getting a replacement wouldn't be so bad. You deserve it." You laugh.

"Hope the department thinks so."

"I mean, you do need a working computer to get your things done." He sits back in the chair and crosses his arms, slightly slumped in his position. "I just plugged in a code to mimic the movement of your mouse so the computer thinks something is always happening. If you look closely at the pointer, you can see it twitching a bit." You look up close on the screen and manage to see what he's talking about.

"Woah. Okay, genius."

"Not even." He laughs. "If you don't mind me being in your space for a little longer, I wanna see if this keeps your computer awake."

"As long as it isn't taking up unnecessary time and making you behind."

"Never." He smiles at you. "So."

"So." You mimic him. "Where are you taking me later?"

"For me to know and you to find out." You snort.

"Clever. Am I dressed enough for the occasion?" Yunho eyes your outfit, running a finger across his bottom lip while he smirks at you. 

"Yeah, you look good. You always do." You playfully push him on the bicep, making him laugh. "What? I can't be honest?"

"Hey— oh? Oops. Hi Yunho." Noeul gives you a look before slowly walking away. 

"Hey Noeul." 

"I'll come back later." She mouths out as Yunho gives off a small chuckle. Suddenly, he shifts his attention back to your computer when he notices the screen go black, and he's back to sitting up again. 

"Damn." He tries fiddling with the mouse and keyboard again. "Guess that didn't work. I think this is a hardware issue now, but .." He turns to you with the same smirk he was sporting earlier when he was spitting out those compliments. "Since your computer is pretty old, I can't say it won't act up again if you get this serviced."

"So, you're saying a new computer is definitely the way to go." He nods.

"You deserve it." He stands as he reminds you. "You should think about getting a 38" monitor instead of having two. It's basically the equivalent and helps with productivity."

"What are some good ones?"

"I can send you some recs in a bit. I'm sorry you'll have to work from your laptop for now. But, whatever you order, I can help make sure it gets to you ASAP and I'll help set it up."

"Yunho." You slightly pout as he's slowly walking out of your cubicle.

"No but's. I got you." He looks down at his watch. "Anyway, gotta head back."

"See, don't tell me you have tons of stuff to catch up on now because of me?"

"I doooon't." He almost whines with a small laugh. He totally does. He's actually kinda swamped, but he made it over anyway because seeing you is nice. "See you later?" You nod and giggle. "I'll text you when I'm all wrapped up on my end."

"Okay. Thank you again."

"No worries." He playfully sends you a wink before walking off and out of the office area. Noeul finally comes creeping up to your cubicle, squealing at a low tone.

"Stop, he's so into you."

"Don't start." You bite onto your bottom lip as you continue to keep your eyes glued onto the tiny laptop screen.

"Where is he taking you? Did he say anything?"

"Nope. I am completely in the dark."

"Those are the best kinda dates. He's gonna take good care of you."

"I just wanna get out of here." You whine as your place your head down on your desk for a few minutes.

"You will! And the wait will be worth it!" You look up at her and let out a small sigh, nodding your head.

"You're right. Let me tackle all of this so I can get outta here sooner than later."

"And hang out with your man, yes!" She leans against your desk. "By the way, what'd he say about your computer?"

"Oh, this thing is done with. I need a new one. I'm just waiting for Yunho to send me some recs."

"Been telling you that."

"Well, it kept me going for some time." You pat the top of the monitor screen. "It was nice while it lasted."

"I love this for you, you know that? Upgrading your computer, your love life. This era is cute." You chuckle and shake your head.

"Go. I gotta get back to work." You push her along, making her giggle at how obviously flustered you are over the topic.

yunho: some recs for the boss lady!

You see Yunho's Slack message come in, along with links from the IT catalog. 

yunho: this CPU should do you good, along with the 38". 😮‍💨

you: haha, thank you. 😊 i'll place my order right now!

yunho: can you send me your ticket number so i can keep an eye on it?

you: maybe....

yunho: ☹️☹️☹️☹️

you: you have too much other work to worry about!

yunho: including your ticket, yes!

you: you're unbelievable. 😂

yunho: you can always opt out for tonight (ouch) ..... 😖

you: never! lol. i'm excited actually. ☺️

yunho: i am, too. 

You smile to yourself during the brief pause in between messages, unsure how to respond to Yunho without sounding like you're doing too much or saying something crazy. But, the Slack notification goes off again—

yunho: okay, i actually gtg and help jihoon with something.

yunho: seriously send me your ticket number after you're done, pls!

Pause.

yunho: can't wait to spend time with you, y/n.

And all that overthinking goes straight out the window.

you: same. 😌

Seora had a long day at school— her day filled with a bunch of tests and pop quizzes, damn near dragging herself out of the classroom and into the gym afterward. She happily talks with her friends as they change into their practice gear, joking around and being the typical girls they are as they get out onto the floor with their water bottles. After equal wins and losses, the coach decides to continue running and improving plays to push the team forward to the playoffs and hopefully, a championship win. 

When practice wraps up, Seora grabs her things and finds her other favorite uncle talking to some of the parents outside of the gym; sweat still on her face, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. When his eyes finally land on hers, he gives Seora's hair a good ruffle before taking her bags from her.

"Ace!"

"Uncle Mangi!" She copies his tone and laughs.

"How was practice?"

"Tiring. I'm pooped. I can barely feel my legs today."

"Working hard, atta girl. On our way to the WNBA." He tosses her bags in the backseat before hopping in. "Hope you don't mind, I gotta stop at the grocery store really quickly for our dinner."

"Only if I can grab some snacks."

"Course you can. Don't spoil your appetite for dinner, though. I'm gonna make some galbijjim."

"Yum! One of my faves."

"Exactly." He laughs. "How was school today?"

"The usual. Nothing too special."

"Nothing too special? Nothing happened at all?"

"Nope. Too many tests and pop-quizzes. I did get an A on my math test, though."

"That's something." She nods as she looks out the window.

"So, my dad's got another team dinner?"

"Mhm." He hums.

"Impossible." 

"They've been working really hard on a lot of different things across the hospital lately. Helps relieve stress, I guess." One thing about Mingi is that he will never out Yunho the way Seonghwa unintentionally does. If Yunho's got a team dinner, Mingi will stick to the story down to the T. Maybe even throw in his own details and dramatics to make it more believable.

"He barely used to have team dinners."

"Well, maybe their goal was to have more!"

"Are you hiding something, Uncle Mangi? Cause Uncle Hwa accidentally spilled the beans last time and said dad was on a date."

"Why would your Uncle Hwa do that? Should I fight him?" Seora laughs and shakes her head. "He wasn't on a date."

"Uncle Mangi." He looks at her.

"Mhm?"

"Lying is bad."

"I'm not lying!" She continues to squint her eyes at him before finally giving up her case and settling back into the seat. 

"Fine. What about you then, Uncle Mangi? What's new? How was your trip to Japan?"

"Nothing much. But, it was good. Nice to be in different sceneries from time to time."

"Dad keeps saying we'll tag along one day, but we haven't yet. I wanna go soon."

"I'll let him know, don't worry."

"They must have soooo much cute stuff. Don't they?"

"Lots." Mingi pulls up to the grocery store, driving into a spot near the entrance. "You'd definitely love it there."

"Where else have you been, Uncle Mangi?" She follows alongside of her towering uncle while he grabs a cart and heads into the store.

"Everywhere and nowhere all at the same time." She laughs.

"Seriously."

"One place I'll always remember is Switzerland. It's beautiful there. Probably one of my top places I've been to."

"I'm sure. I've only seen it in books, but it looks really pretty."

"It is. Those textbook pics definitely don't do it enough justice." Mingi sorts through the meat packages while Seora quickly wanders off into an aisle to grab her favorite chips and cookies. She drops it into the cart, with Mingi barely noticing.

"I have a random question for you."

"Try me."

"Do you think it's better to lock yourself up in a grocery store like this during a zombie apocalypse or keep it moving?"

"Well." Mingi continues to slowly walk down the aisles, making sure he doesn't miss any ingredients on his mental grocery list needed for tonight's dinner. "I'd say keep it moving."

"Why? You'd have everything in here."

"That's if no one raids the store, which would be impossible at that time. Plus, it can only keep you safe for so long before zombies find their way in or another group comes around. You could quite literally die before you even have a chance to try and survive."

"You'd have to take a break at some point though, right?"

"You could, but always best to keep it moving, ace. Never leave a trail for people."

"Okay, touché."

"Cereal first or milk first?" Mingi suddenly asks as they go through the cereal section.

"Cereal."

"What? No. Did your dad teach you that?"

"What kind of planet are you living on? Isn't that how it normally is?" Mingi stops the cart and looks at her. 

"Warm or cold milk then?"

"For cereal?" Mingi nods. "Cold?!"

"You and your weird ass dad." Seora laughs loudly. "Did anybody want a child? Cause this one is not mine—" Seora pinches her uncle's bicep, causing him to yelp as they push through the remaining aisles.

"You soggy cereal lover." Seora points out.

"That's literally the best way to have it."

"Ew, you're like eating mushed up cardboard." Mingi sighs.

"You're very lucky I love you and that your dad is my bestfriend or else I would've blocked him."

"You're so dramatic." She throws more snacks into the cart just as they're about to head to the registers.

"Any more snacks or you're good?"

"I'm good! I'm excited for dinner." Mingi laughs.

"I am, too. Too bad I gotta cook it first."

"You're a great cook, Uncle Mangi. I always enjoy the food you make." She tugs on his sleeve.

"I do try my best." She helps her uncle load the groceries onto the belt, pulling the cart towards the end to help bag up their things and throw it back in. Mingi taps his card to the reader before helping Seora with the heavier bags. Once they've gathered all their things, Mingi pushes the cart over to the car, loading it up in his trunk while Seora plops into the front seat. "Ready to head home?"

"Yeah, dying to shake a shower." Mingi starts up the car and begins the journey home.

"Yeah, you need it." He teases, causing Seora to lightly punch him on the arm.

"You're mean!"

"Kidding!" He laughs. "So, what's on the agenda tonight? We eat, you do homework. Watch some shows? Talk a walk around the neighborhood?"

"Sure, whatever floats your boat. I kinda have a bit of homework so I dunno about that walk. Plus, I'm pretty sore already."

"Okay, we'll play it by ear then." On the way home, Seora continues to tell Mingi about the staycation her father took her on and the new dog café they visited. She talks to him about her friends and how one of her friends started having a crush on one of the boys in their class. Mingi playfully gasps before lecturing her about boys and how icky they can be [coming from an honest heart]. But Seora laughs it off and tells her uncle that she's not really worried about that stuff.

All Mingi can say in response is 'you better not be.'

When the two finally get home, Mingi immediately sets himself up in the kitchen to get dinner going, while Seora throws her backpack down in the living room and heads straight to the shower. She takes a good, long shower before throwing on her pajamas and brushing through her wet hair. She sits on the living room floor and gets going with her homework while waiting for her uncle to finish cooking dinner.

Meanwhile, Yunho makes his way over to the peds hospital— happily stepping into the elevator to make his way back up to your office. When he gets there, he realizes most people have already clocked out and left for the day, only leaving you and a select few heads working away in the cubicles.

"Hey. Ready?" You smile as you look up at Yunho, sending one last meeting invite for next week before closing down your apps and shutting off your laptop.

"Yeah! I thought you were gonna text me so I could meet you halfway."

"Um, no." Yunho laughs. "I would much rather come get you so we can walk to the car together." 

"That's sweet." You throw on your coat and slide the bag strap over your shoulder. "So, how was the rest of your day?"

"Good. Not too crazy, at least."

"Did the offers go out to the candidates you were planning on hiring?"

"Oh, yeah! They actually signed earlier this week and they'll be starting next week. They were able to get the background checks cleared out in time."

"Aw, that's awesome! You guys will finally get help." 

"Yeah. It'll be busy for awhile getting them onboarded and trained."

"Yunho's gonna go MIA."

"Yunho is not gonna go MIA." He laughs. 

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah, of course." He chuckles. "I'll always make time."

"You say that now."

"And I'll say it tomorrow, and the next day, and so on." He pinches your cheeks. "Don't trip." You smile feeling his warm touch against your skin. "Well, I didn't think it'd be so cold this evening. Are you okay with your coat and all? Is it enough?"

"It is."

"Okay, well just let me know. We'll be inside for the most part, but I want you to be comfortable."

"Thank you." You continue to walk alongside of Yunho until you get to his car. You give him the ins and outs of your day besides the whole computer issue that he tried to rescue you from while he grabs your bags and gently sets it in the trunk of his BMW and pops the door open for you. When you slide in and get comfortable, you notice how spotless his car is and how it smells like a hint of his cologne, along with laundry detergent and the fresh car smell. There are a few colorful hair ties lining the bottom of one of the cupholders, along with a hoodie in the backseat and a basketball. Yunho laughs and apologizes for Seora's mess— he also hasn't gotten a chance to bring in her things simply because he doesn't think much of it.

It almost feels like Seora is with him one way or another and he finds comfort in that.

On the drive over to dinner, he asks a bit about what other days look like for you and if you anticipate other big projects to come your way. You talk about a new project that was already mentioned to you by your manager, which involves remodeling one of the levels to a study/meeting area. You also tell Yunho it isn't a high priority, but you've already started the conversation with some of the facilities coordinators that can help rope in the appropriate vendors for certain tasks.

He transitions by telling you a few of the little projects he's been working on with his team, along with figuring out how to upgrade systems and all that jazz. You find that Yunho and his team are constantly working to support so many different departments, and it amazes you how well Yunho is able to delegate and keep himself afloat. You ask if he's ever had to work late because of really urgent issues and he says he's only had to do it once or twice— most can typically wait until the morning.

"Okay." He says, pulling into a tight, narrow street to start looking for parking. "We're here."

"I have no idea where we're at."

"Oh." Yunho laughs. "That's good then. More of a surprise for you. But, please keep your expectations down cause I didn't do much."

"Stop. Don't say things like that. I'll love it either way." Yunho smiles as he turns another corner and finds a spot right away. He parks flawlessly next to the curb, shutting off his car before turning back to you. 

"Ready?" You nod quietly, watching as Yunho hops out and does a light jog over to open the door for you. You give him a smile and tug on your coat while Yunho locks his door and leads the way next to you, hand on the small of your back. The walk isn't too far, the restaurant being down on the opposite end of the street, across the block. To your surprise, Yunho brings you to one of the new conveyor belt sushi restaurants. He greets the host and he immediately takes you back to a little booth near the belt. It's snug enough to fit two people. 

"I'm excited." You look at Yunho and he laughs.

"Same, I could eat. You like sushi, right? Please tell me I didn't fuck up." He looks concerned for a moment.

"No, no. I love sushi. I actually haven't had it in so long." You rearrange your set up so you can eat comfortably, the waiter taking your order for drinks. You both ask for water, but before the waiter can walk off, Yunho suddenly asks for two glasses of hot sake. 

"Thank you." He says, giving the waiter a curt nod.

"Sake?"

"Our little celebration for getting through the week."

"Wow, okay. Touché. I can get behind that." You look at him. "My birthday's coming up. You should come out with Mingi and Seonghwa. We're heading out to the club." You pause before shaking your head. "Or, actually, I'm being forced to go to the club to celebrate."

"Forced, hm?" He laughs. "That sounds fun, though. Send me the details. We'll definitely try to celebrate with you."

"Might be fun. We can be a fun group of people."

"Yeah?" Yunho likes that, you're down for things and he can tell you go with the flow. He likes someone who can just have fun with him. Someone who can just be with him; it wouldn't matter where they go or where their relationship takes them.

"Mhm. And I can tell you guys are fun." You laugh. "Seora must love having you as her dad."

"I hope so." Yunho laughs along. "By the way, feel free to start digging in." He gestures towards the moving conveyor belt and you happily start exploring your options as they come— taking a fresh plate of salmon nigiri to start off. The waiter quickly comes back with two glasses of hot sake, making Yunho smirk at you. He sets his chopsticks down and slides your glass over, raising his while you take yours. "Cheers? For getting through the week."

"Cheers!" You say cheerfully, tapping your glass against his before taking some of the hot sake down your throat. It burns, but the heat brings more warmth to your body on this cold evening. "Speaking of Seora, where is she right now now?" You drink a bit more before taking another plate off the belt.

"Spending time with her Uncle Mingi."

"That's cute." Yunho grabs a few plates and sets them aside while he decides which one he'll tackle first.

"She had practice and I had him go pick her up. I think they were heading to the grocery store to buy some ingredients for dinner before heading home last time he texted me."

"What did you tell her?"

"Mm." He hums. "I hope you don't take it personally or anything, but I told her it was a team dinner."

"No, of course not."

"I just, yeah." He chuckles a bit. "It's just easier to go with that."

"I believe it." The both of you continue to eat away at the sushi, small, empty plates piling up on the side of the table. Small conversations continue about day-to-day life; you and your friends, what you've been doing for yourself lately. Suddenly, you dwell on the fact that you don't know much about Yunho besides his day-to-day life with Seora and work. You know about his friends, his coworkers. But, you don't know anything deeper about his personal life.

His parents.

You didn't wanna be nosy and pry, but you wondered why his parents weren't the ones watching Seora. 

Was it too much of you to ask?

Was this considered a real date if you two weren't trying to get to know each other? What were the boundaries?

"Yunho?"

"What's up?"

"Can I ask you something more personal?"

"Anything."

"I hope I'm not crossing boundaries here, but what about your parents? How come they don't watch Seora?"

"You're not crossing any boundaries." Yunho reassures you, but shakes his head before dipping into his next plate of sushi. "Uh, it's complicated. Things kinda just fell apart when Eunha passed." You slowly nod. "When my parents found out Eunha was pregnant, they didn't want us to continue with the pregnancy cause we were, what? 20 years old when we found out? Still in the midst of college. But, that's not what we wanted. They almost got to Eunha but we pushed through in the end and we had Seora. It was really hard for a long, long time, but Seora was worth every bit of it. My parents obviously didn't like the fact that we went against their wishes, so they kept their distance. It's been that way ever since, even when Eunha passed. I think it got worst, actually. Plus, I never had the best relationship with them from the get-go. They only see Seora once in a blue moon. They're the grandparents that just send the occasional bouts of money, birthday and holidays cards. Seora always wonders about them, but I can never give her an answer as to why her grandparents aren't around." 

"I'm sorry, Yunho."

"Don't be sorry." Yunho smiles a bit.

"W-what about Eunha's parents?" You wanna ask about Eunha too, but you know this isn't the time.

"Uh, they're the same. They—" He pauses. "They cut off ties when she passed because it was too hard for them."

"Oh. Yunho." You say sympathetically, feeling incredibly bad for having brought it up in the first place. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean to be such a debbie downer during dinner."

"No, it's okay. I promise. I've.. gotten used to it at this point. It used to be hard for me, but I've accepted everything."

"Still doesn't mean it doesn't get hard for you."

"I've learned to manage." He gives you a tiny, toothless smile.

"I hope you know you're doing an amazing job balancing everything and for being a great father to Seora."

"Thanks." 

"I'm also glad you have Seonghwa and Mingi."

"Me too." He laughs. "They're a pain in my ass, but they're my bestfriends. I don't think I would have been able to get through a lot without them. And they're good to Seora."

"That's good, I'm glad." You eat a bit more before you feel yourself getting content and full.

"Full?"

"Damn near. I think I ate too fast." You chuckle. "I'm almost done with my sake."

"Bottoms up?" You nod, tapping your glass against his before the both of you take it to the neck. Yunho finishes up a few more plates before he sits back and gulps his water down, causing you to giggle to yourself. "Fuck, I'm full. Overdid it, for sure."

"Was worth every bit of it, though. Maybe we should walk it off?"

"Yeah. Let's head to the next stop. I think you'll like it. And we'll get our steps in." He pulls his wallet out of his pocket, calling the waiter over.

"Can I split with you?"

"Absolutely not." Yunho says, handing over his card directly to him.

"You're already driving me everywhere and taking me to another location after this. The least I can do is chip in."

"Nope. The least you can do is just enjoy yourself with me tonight." He smiles sweetly just as he grabs the receipt handed to him by the waiter, signing off and tucking his own copy swiftly into his pocket before looking at you. 

"Couldn't even let me see the receipt."

"Nope." He repeats and stands. "Ready to go, pretty girl?" You feel the heat rise to your cheeks as you stand and nod, leading the way out of the restaurant with Yunho in tow. He answers your questions on the way to the car, giving you hints about the next location. It still leaves you stumped in the end, deciding to let Yunho continue taking matters into his own hands with you. He opens the door like the gentleman he is, slipping into the driver's seat as he rubs his hands together and immediately turns the heat on when he starts the car. "All good? Too hot?"

"Just perfect."

"Good." You sit back comfortably as Yunho sets off for the next destination for tonight. "So, how was the sushi? Be honest."

"It was so good!" He looks at you when he comes to a red light, almost as if he's trying to read you, really read you, and you giggle. "What?"

"Just making sure."

"That I'm not lying?"

"Maybe." You laugh even more.

"I would never. If I didn't enjoy it, I would've given an honest review."

"Mmkay, I believe you." He laughs. "I want you to have a good night with me."

"I am already." You look at him with a soft expression. "And I'm sure the next part to this will be just as fun. If not, more. I trust you."

"Do you?"

"I do." Yunho smiles, wanting to hold your hand so badly while he drives. But, he doesn't. He holds back. He feels like there could be a better opportunity.

One that'll feel right and set the mood for the remainder of the night.

For this entirely.

After a good 20 minutes of driving down south, Yunho exits off the freeway and takes an immediate right down towards a large-sized building with all modern exterior designs. He parks in the lot next to it, doing his gentleman deed of helping you out of the car and leading you towards the beautiful building.

It's one of the city's biggest museums, and the event they're hosting for a couple of weeks is called Spirit House. It focuses on Asian American and Asian diasporic artists that are showcasing art pertaining to horror, spirits, haunted houses, reincarnation, different dimensions and other themes along those lines. You continue to read the pamphlet before Yunho looks at you with a small smile on his face.

"Wanna walk around?" You nod.

"How'd you know I'd be into this stuff?"

"It sounded cool, so why not?"

"You're good, Jeong Yunho." You giggle and continue into the first part of the exhibit. The atmosphere is dark and dim, the artwork on the walls screaming afterlife. Death. Souls. Horror, fear. You're so intrigued that you find yourself slowly moving from work to work; trying to take in all the details of the images in front of you. You didn't even realize Yunho had been watching you from behind, snapping photos every chance he could before moving onto the next room to get a preview of what's to come.

"Hey." Yunho says from behind you. "Wanna show you something in the next room." 

"Okay." You look down at the hand he puts out, waiting for you to take it. You gently slide your hand in his, fingers intertwining before he guides you to the next exhibit and it feels incredibly natural. It's a room full of mini fixtures— almost like miniature set-ups of old fashioned homes and other buildings. He shows you one that has the artist's own adaptation of Junji Ito characters spread across levels of an old, haunted house.

"Oh my god, I love it." You peek down to get a closer look, hand still laced with Yunho's. "I love Junji Ito. And the work in the other room reminded me of Takato Yamamoto. It's amazing."

"Made for you." You chuckle, tugging him along as you both look at the next miniature setups alongside of it. Yunho doesn't even mind one bit. He's enjoying the exhibit, but he's enjoying it even more with you here— holding his hand every step of the way. You snap a few photos of the art before Yunho directs you to stand near one of the exhibits where the lighting falls on you perfectly. He takes a few more photos— more candid ones from behind you especially— just so you have photos to look back at when you wanna reminisce on your first date with him.

The next room of the exhibit is an interactive light show; the  room is completely dark, with different lights projecting things around the room. The background music is mysterious, creepy; fitting the vibe all together. You continue to walk with Yunho while snapping photos of your silhouettes in the mirrors. Yunho gets silly and makes a bunch of poses, making you laugh loudly in the process. At one point, you've found yourself standing near the corner of the room, watching all the lights come together to project a beautiful show onto the walls. Yunho comes next to you, admiring the same view— but you, mainly. You look up at him to tell him how amazing the event is, but he's already looking down at you with fondness and endearment sprinkled in his big brown orbs.

You almost.. wanna kiss him.

But, you shake off the thought quickly by dragging him to the next exhibits— loosely holding his hand throughout the rest of the event.

Too bad he would've kissed you back, had you known.

No, he needs to be a gentleman and he needs to do right by you, Yunho thinks. He can't just kiss you on the first date or else he runs the risk of you thinking he only wants you for one thing.

Like Ara; but, that situation is a little different.

"Yunho! That was so fun." You smile at him the way you do, and it melts his heart. "Thank you for taking me to this."

"Of course. I think it ends after the weekend, so perfect timing." You quickly scroll through some of the pictures you took. "I'll send you the pictures I have later."

"Okay." You look at the buskers on the opposite end of the street, along with a food cart nearby. "Yunho, let's go check it out really quickly!"

"I'm down." He nods, noticing it's only about to hit 10pm. Seora must be waiting for him, but he knows she'll sleep until he gets there and Mingi hasn't made a peep. He feels like he's in the clear.

He holds your hand tightly as you both cross the street safely, stopping near the food cart first while lightly bouncing to the live music nearby.

"Want a snack?" You nod and cling onto his arm.

"I could use one. Museum took up my energy." He laughs. Yunho buys some custard-filled bungeoppang for you two to snack on while observing the buskers. You bounce along next to him and he starts to dance in his own way, making you laugh at how cute he's being with you. You snap a few photos of him that you'll share later, not knowing Yunho had a bunch of your photos to share as well.

You and Yunho sing along to some familiar songs before the buskers end the first half of their performance for a tiny break.

"That was cool. They did really well!"

"They were so good!" You toss in some cash into the guitar case. "And I didn't know you could sing!"

"I— no." Yunho laughs.

"I wanna hear more of your singing." You pout as you tug on his arm on the way back to the car.

"Maybe."

"Yunho." You whine and he laughs.

"I promise you it's nothing that great."

"Very much the opposite of what I think, just so you know." He stands by the passenger door, allowing you to hop in but he doesn't close the door right away. He stands and looks at you and there's something in his eyes that you can't really read.

"I hope you enjoyed it."

"I did. A lot." He licks his lips, and you can tell he's having the same internal battle you had not too long ago in the light exhibit. But, he brushes it off by tapping the door frame before shutting your door gently and hopping into his seat. 

The drive home is as expected; with you and Yunho talking about your similar music tastes this time and Yunho being a bit more open about his vocals. You look at him as he sings a tune or two, explaining that his dad is the one with the vocals in the family. You tease that next time, you two should go to a karaoke bar to end the night and he smirks.

At least you're thinking about next time's just like he is, too.

When he pulls up to your apartment, you find yourself not wanting to part from him. You know he has to go home to Seora though, and it breaks your heart knowing she's been waiting for her dad to come home. You step out of the car and tug on your coat, the night colder than it was a few hours ago.

"Welp, this is me." You both look at the apartment building, with Yunho tucking his hands into his pockets.

"Let me walk you up."

"No, it's okay. I promise it's right there." You point at your apartment before chuckling and turning to him completely. "Goodnight, Yunho. Thank you for tonight. I had a lot of fun."

"You're welcome, Y/N." He watches as you lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek. He blushes, and he loves the initiation, but he freezes. Completely. 

"I'll see you next week, hm? Get home safely." You smile toothlessly at him before turning on your heel to walk up to your unit. Just as you're about to make it up the steps, Yunho is chasing after you with long strides, causing you to turn and raise a brow. "Did I leave something?"

"Mm, maybe." He says with a tiny smirk on his face. Suddenly, his large, warm hands come up to cup your cheeks— lips capturing yours in a sweet goodnight kiss. "Goodnight." You smile up at him as his thumb caresses the surface of your right cheek.

"Night." He steps back, biting his bottom lip to prevent himself from smiling too big. He lingers around until he sees you successfully slip into your unit and hears the door shut close.

What he doesn't see is the way you squeal and dig your face into your hands, incredibly giddy and happy from the turn of events.

You really liked Yunho.

And he does, too.

So much that the smile doesn't even fade when he pulls up to the house, Mingi's car leaving enough room for him to park in his usual spot. Yunho can see the faint flickering of the TV lights through the kitchen window, and he knows Seora is probably on the couch waiting for his arrival.

When he steps through the door, Mingi is placing some food into the fridge before returning his attention to the remaining dishes in the sink. He quietly greets his bestfriend before nodding towards the couch— signaling that Seora had fallen asleep while waiting.

"Has it been long?" Yunho asks lowly.

"A bit, yeah. She said practice was exhausting today." Yunho chuckles before crouching down in front of the couch and brushing her hair back.

"Ace." Her eyes slowly flicker open.

"Oh, finally. You're back." He laughs.

"Let's get to bed, hm?" She sleepily nods, sitting up before walking to her bedroom. "Say bye to uncle Mingi."

"Love you, ace!" Mingi calls out as he watches her sleepily walk across the living room.

"Love you too. Goodnight." She mutters and lazily waves before dragging herself into her room and shutting the door. It isn't long before Yunho sees her shut off the lights, causing him to turn the volume down on the TV before helping Mingi clean up.

"So, how was it?" Yunho smiles.

"Good." He avoids eye contact as he blushes, setting the dry dishes into the cabinet.

"Good?"

"Yeah."

"Meaning?" Mingi rests against the corner before smirking at him. " I have time."

"I really, really like her."

⇢taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @nopension @curse-of-art @thechaotictheoryy @likexaxdaydream @dalsuwaha @enha-stars @yasuraokaa @professormingisglasses @yunyunrin @pommelex @astral-trashcan @laura1399 @domfikeluva @tournesol155 @hwaskookies @yusalterego @hwa-stars @hyukssunflower @chngbnwf @jaytheatiny @lucid-galaxys-world @chaotic-floral @sofkloster @honeyrecommends @hwashua-luv @luvv4bby @spicxbnny @pandyandy71 @sanniesaurus @angel-hyuckie @wolviejex @purpleyou7x

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Every Light

Summary: The reader is driving along a long stretch of highway when a mysterious stranger on a motorcycle shows up and decides to have some fun with her...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,600ish

Warnings: language, implied smut

A/N: This fic takes place post 15x20 (with some canon fixes adjustments). Also, we all know (including Jensen) Every Light is 100% Dean coded, right?

____________

Your fingers tapped against the wheel with one hand, your other hand hung out the window of your car, dancing in the wind. Music blasted through the speakers of your SUV, Ramblin’ Man pouring out as you drove down the long stretch of quiet highway on the bright summer day. The barren Texas flatlands stretched for miles before you, not a single car in sight.

You let your foot go heavy on the pedal, racing across the plains, the warm wind nice across your cheeks. Driving all day from Phoenix to Austin wasn’t exactly fun, but you were in a good mood. A great mood. One of those rare moments of peace and serenity where you just felt still and whole.

You happy little bubble popped when you drove past a crossroads, a slick black motorcycle turning onto the highway behind you. Fuck. It was probably a cop. You’d been making good time too.

You sighed as it came up on you fast, tension rising in your bones as you waited for a siren, lights, something. 

The motorcycle pulled up on your side, crossing the dotted yellow line and keeping pace with you. You turned your head, getting a better view of the bike. Okay, definitely not a police officer. Not unless Texas shelled out for jet black racing bikes with no markings. The rider was in head to toe sleek black leather, tight against his body with padding built in you were sure of. You couldn’t see past his black as night tinted visor. He, and it was most definitely a he based on those shoulders, turned his head toward you before raising his hand, giving you a wave.

You raised your eyebrows behind your aviators. The rider gripped the handlebars again, starting to weave his bike left and right ever so slightly before he straightened again. You tilted your head when he lifted his right hand and signed a simple gesture. 

“Hi.”

Okay…what were the odds some crazed person knew sign language? Probably lower than average and if worst came to worst, you’d just gun it until you hit a town.

You waved back to him, the man sitting up more and returning it. Then he was leaning back even more, popping a wheelie. Your heart skipped as he tore down the highway besides you, only setting the bike down when you flailed your arm for him to get it down on the ground. He finally did so, pointing at himself and looking around when you frowned at him.

“Behave down there!” You shouted out the window, even though he’d never hear it. He simply kept driving next to you, playing as he did so, doing something even more reckless each time he got you to laugh or smile.

But eventually you were coming up on a town and the roads were about to get busier. He made a quick gesture with his hand before taking off ahead of you, getting in front of you in your lane and disappearing down the road.

“Boys,” you mumbled, trying not to think of the last thing he’d signed.

“I had fun, sweetheart. Let’s do it again sometime.”

Six Hours Later

You’d wearily made it to Austin and after a quick shower at your hotel, you headed out to grab dinner at a local bar. 

“Hi,” said a handsome man when he took a seat next to you at the crowded bar top. 

“Hi,” you said politely, returning your gaze to scanning the menu. The stranger's eyes lingered though, your head turning slightly to find a smile on his face. “Can I help you?”

“No, just funny running into you again today.” You raised an eyebrow, the man chuckling. “You do that a lot, don’t you?”

“I’ve never met you before in my life.”

“Darn it,” he said, feigning a sigh. “Here I thought I made an impression. Did I not do enough wheelies?” Then he signed, “Sweetheart,” with his hand, flashing you a wink.

Your eyes went wide, the man smirking. “You! That was completely reckless.”

“So was going a hundred down the highway, rebel,” he teased. He turned his body to face you, smiling hard. “You’re telling me I wasn’t the best part of your day?”

“You’re a menace,” you said, picking up your drink.

“And that wasn’t a denial.” He waved down the bartender, pointing at your drink and holding up two fingers. “So. You like me better as the silent mysterious type with a helmet over my face?”

You rolled your eyes, taking the new drink. “It takes more than a pretty face to win me over, babe.”

“How about a ride on it?” You blinked. 

“A ride on your…” you swallowed, the man chuckling.

“My bike. Although you are more than welcome to ride anything of mine you like,” he said. You scoffed, ignoring the fact you hadn’t been with anyone in far, far too long and here was a man handsome as sin offering himself up to you. “Alright. I pushed too far. My apologies.”

“…Why do you know sign language?” you asked.

“My sister in law is deaf. I actually just became an uncle,” he said with a proud smile. “I had to finish up some work before heading back home for good. I’m going be a firefighter actually.”

He looked so…boyish for a moment that you smiled at his genuine pride.

“Good for you,” you said. “I’m just passing through myself. My old friend just had a baby up north.”

“So what’s to stop you from cutting loose tonight? I’ll even pay for dinner like a proper gentleman.” You glanced away, the man tilting his head when your eyes darted back. “I promise to be as well or badly behaved as you want.”

You looked him up and down, the man still sporting those boots and padded pants. 

Oh fuck it. 

“I ain’t getting on the back of that bike without a helmet.” His grin turned devilish, even when you held up a finger. “Calm down, big boy. Let’s see how you last through dinner.”

“You holding on tight?” asked Dean nearly two hours later when you were on the outskirts of the city. Only Dean. Tonight was a one time thing and that meant no last names, no histories, just plain old fun.

“Yeah, why?” you asked when he chuckled beneath you.

“Cause I’m gonna blow your mind, sweetheart.” He revved the engine and took off like a bat out of hell, going faster and faster, so fast your heart was in your throat. “Here we go!”

“What are you-“ You screeched when he popped a wheelie with you on the back, setting it down after only a few seconds. “Dean!”

“More you say?” Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Morning,” mumbled Dean, a kiss pressed against your temple. You groggily opened your eyes, the clock flashing that it was ten. You felt him pull the sheets up over your bare back, Dean running a hand over your head. “Wake up beautiful. You need a shower before you check out.”

“Yeah,” you yawned, sitting up in bed, watching him dress. He smirked as you openly eyed his body, Dean cupping your cheeks in his hands when he finished. “One night, right?”

“You deserve better than me, Y/N. You’ll find him someday. Until then though, just know you are the best I’ve ever had.”

“You say that to all the girls,” you laughed, Dean smiling.

“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” he said, kissing you once more. “Careful driving today.”

“You too. And don’t flirt with girls like that anymore. You’ll kill yourself on that bike.”

“Only flirt with you, got it,” he said. You playfully punched his arm, Dean letting your hands linger one last moment before pulling away. “In a another life, sweetheart.”

“Bye, Dean.”

You hadn’t planned on getting such a late start to the day but your night with Dean had been worth it. In a way, you wished you’d forced the issue and gotten his number at the very least. Sure, the motorcycle ride and sex were great but he was good company, funny and silly but something grounded to him that let you know you were safe with him. Eileen was always on you about living a life more outside of hunting and now that you’d officially retired, you were about to start living it more.

Including telling her all about your wonderful hookup.

You pulled up outside a house in Lawrence in the suburbs just after seven, barely up the front steps before the front door opened and Eileen hopped out, pulling you into a big hug.

“I missed you too,” you laughed, giving her a big squeeze, holding on tight. While you’d talked, you hadn’t been able to see her in person since she came back from the dead and this reunion was long overdue. “Come on, let me see the baby.”

“He just went down for bedtime. But he will happily see you in the morning,” she said, taking your hand and dragging you inside. “We just got the grill going out back.”

“Good. I’m starving and miss your burgers,” you said, letting her have another round of hugs with you. “Well if I can’t see the babe yet, you gotta let me meet your husband.”

“You know he has a brother that’s single,” she grinned, taking you through the house and to the back deck where a very tall man worked over a grill. “Sam! Y/N’s finally here!”

“Well it’s about time,” he said, picking you up in a hug. He smiled gently as he set you down. “I’m so happy Eileen has a friend in town.”

“Maybe you guys can give me advice on how the whole retirement thing works. I’ve just been traveling around aimlessly the past few months,” you said, taking a beer when Eileen offered it.

“You’ll figure it out,” said Sam, the rumble of an engine on the street out front echoing through the yard. 

“That’ll be his very single brother,” said Eileen. You rolled your eyes. “Oh come on, he hunted too! You guys would so get along now that you’re both retired.”

“I’ve dated other hunters and it never worked out, thank you very much,” you said.

“You’re lucky I managed to grab the last bag of franks,” said an all too familiar voice. You spun around, Dean, your Dean from last night, standing right in front of you wearing jeans and a white plain t-shirt. He dropped the package of hot dogs, both of you staring at the other. 

“I told you he was good looking!” joked Eileen.

“You?” asked Dean.

“You’re Dean fucking Winchester?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“You’re Y/N Y/L/N, Eileen’s bestie?” You both nodded, Sam picking up the package and looking at you both like you were nuts.

“Uh, do you two know each other?” asked Sam.

“Some would say intimately,” said Dean. 

“We’ll be right back,” you said, grabbing his bicep, ignoring the strength in it as you dragged him down the steps and around the corner of the house. You stared at him, Dean running a hand through his hair. “I thought you were a fireman!”

“I’m about to start my training. I was in Phoenix, cleaning up one last job but…someone had already fixed the sigils,” he mumbled. “You?”

“Yes, me,” you said, closing your eyes, putting your hands on your hips. “I worked out of Washington mostly. Eileen asked if I would clean up a sigil on my way down here. I-I’m staying here for a bit to help with the baby while I find a place in town.”

“So you’re that friend of hers…” he trailed off, eyes darting around your face. His lips parted but no words escaped them. An unpleasant crack tore through your heart. Gone was the happy go lucky flirt from twelve hours ago. Instead a man filled with horrors beyond imagination stood before you, a desperation in his eyes that made your skin crawl. 

“You were wrong back at the hotel.” He shook off whatever thoughts were running through his mind, confusion entering the forefront of his mind. “This morning you said I deserved better than you.”

“You do,” he said without missing a beat. “I’m-”

“Dean Winchester. I’ve heard about you. We all have,” you said softly, taking one of his hands in yours. He swallowed, closing his eyes. “You deserve the world and I’m not just saying that because of last night. You more than did your part.”

“I’m not the guy from last night. I am severely fucked up-”

“Oh get in line, Winchester.” He blinked rapidly, brows furrowing. “You think you’re the only one with daddy issues and who’s died and seen the shit hunters do? No, you’re not. There’s plenty of us who have. I retired because of you. I retried because Eileen told me her friends the Winchesters saved us all and I could quit. I should quit. She told me to live my life. So you and me? We’re going to live our lives as fucked up as we are. And last night…fuck, I had fun. You had fun. I forgot about the nightmares and I think you did too. You think Eileen and your brother aren’t as screwed up as us? Of course they are but they aren’t scared to do the hard thing and move on. So why not us too? It doesn’t have to be together but-”

“Shut up,” he said, slamming his lips to yours. It was hard, rough. Something possessive underneath the surface that had you sucking in air when he pulled back, tugging your bottom lip along the way. 

“Kissing me won’t make me shut up, Winchester,” you breathed, Dean ghosting over your lips, cradling a hand against the back of your neck to keep you close. “We aren’t strangers anymore. You want more, you got to give me more.”

“You want a visitors pass to the insane asylum in my head?” he laughed dryly.

“Visitor pass? Honey, I live there, just a different ward is all.” He flashed his eyes open, green orbs hesitant. “I ain’t doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I’m screwed up too and you’re going to have to give as good as you get. I need that. You need that. So either walk away if you just want to be friends-”

“Odds are this crashes and burns,” he said. Your hands slid to his cheeks, smirking up at him. “What?”

“Good thing I got my own firefighter then.” He raised an eyebrow, smiling when you tilted your chin up. “Stealing my moves?”

“Just remembered you were warned, sweetheart.”

“We’re going to work on that self-talk.” You tiled your chin further, Dean meeting your mouth, a smile in it. For the first time in a long time, in years, you let yourself think about a future and what that looked like. Dean pulled away slowly when Sam called for you both, his thumb brushing your chin.

“I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it with some help,” he murmured, trailing his knuckles down your arm, stopping at your hand to lace your fingers together.

Yeah, the future was looking a little brighter these days.

_________________

[imustbenuts]

Wolfwood is an underdog character screwed by social hierarchy and Japanese cultural subtext more ways than one: a messy half-assed write up.

This is me saying that Wolfwood is in no way the equivalent of 'white' or even near the top in terms of class even when viewed with a Japanese lens and there's at least a few threads you can follow that will lead up to that conclusion. So to try and (badly) cover this topic as best as I can, the sections highlighted in this post will be the following

Colorism and imperialism

Tribes and burakumin

Shintoism and the burakumin people

Wolfwood's entire fucking design

I explode

Colorism

So in short. Asia has a colorism problem on top of a racism problem, but people like me get really frustrated when a more American POV is applied to try and shoehorn the discussion into purely racism. The reason is: history.

So. Japan was super imperialist back in history. And so was China, which Japan took many inspiration from in terms of language, culture, and most importantly, governance.

In order for their particular system of governance to work, both China and Japan ended up having their own respective court systems where the aristocrats and nobility would spend their days indoors as they administer governance. (Or more accurately, to be so educated, cultured and refined as the world outside implodes.) Thanks to this system, there is essentially a walled garden system where the well-educated nobles would spend their time well away from hard labor like farming under the sun.

This meant there is a greater amount of favoritism towards fairer skinned people as opposed to tan, since it became a quick indicator of class and status. Bc only laborers tended the field under the harsh sun, and women got this especially bad, bc imagine her having to tends the field like a peasant. Gasp.

Anyway bada bing bada boom white skin eventually became so associated with beauty and status. The old poverb, "色の白いは七��隠す", or White skin covers seven flaws, refers to women with pure white (sometimes powdered) skin is attractive no matter what their physical flaw might be. Think Geishas and their job of entertaining at private events with a face full of white powder makeup.

This colorism also hits men less, but the idea of status stays.

...Wink. (To note the above gif here for a sec: IMO Vash doesn't qualify as desirable purely because he's a blonde. A foreigner. An Other. But the hiding flaws part might be worth chewing on.)

And now we suddenly are looking at some kind of a vague hierarchical system. And indeed, Japan has had a caste system of sorts in with varying degrees of social mobility depending on which era you look at. The lowest in some era were slaves. And even then, there is another class even lower than that, the Burakumin. Put a pin in this bc it'll be important in the next part.

Tribes and Burakumins

There are actually, in fact, different tribes in Japan even today. Current day, the well known ones are the Yamato people, who make up 98% of the population in Japan. Mostly fair skin, black hair. East Asian.

Then there are the Ryukyuans, who live mostly in okinawa with their own culture, and then the Ainus.

I don't want to get even MORE historical, but those two groups were conquered and forcibly had their culture identity, language, and even land stripped off them. Attempted to have loyalty towards the emperor instilled towards them at various points. One might think the presence of these two might mean that there were more tribes back in ancient Japan, and, yes, you would be right!

Many of them might have been assimilated into what we think of as Japanese people today. There are always variation in skin color, hair color and facial features alone if one pays attention even in Tokyo. Not all East Asian are fair skin and have straight black hair, but an overwhelming majority do. (plus hair dyes and perms wahoo. who's to know sometimes)

One example perhaps is this. Ever watched Princess Mononoke? Did you know that part of the story centers around Ashitaka, who is part of the Emishi tribe, who are a group who has been rebelling against the Emperor Yamato for 500 years? And so he shoots samurais on the regular?

So here's the rub: the Emishi were in fact a real indigenous group who were basically conquered and assimilated. Some did resist during the 11th century, with their villages/hamlet out deep into the north of Japan. They were of course, greatly outnumbered.

These people who resisted the rule all over Japan with different identities, names and culture and survived came to be called the Eta ��多 (lit. abundance of filth). Later, Burakumin.

Now I mentioned the Burakumins. Burakumin are written like this 部落民, and refer to a strongly discriminated class of people who live in discriminated villages/hamlet. The kanji though, literally translates to "People who falls outside of the order", or, "Outcasts". In other words, even though there's a caste system which basically at least recognizes people as part of a governing system, the Burakumins do not qualify to even as to be human in this system.

And indeed, some of these tribes who had their culture and identity stripped off them are not even people in the eyes of the ruling government. Today, the term refers to the descendants of these people, and they do encounter a lot of discrimination and abuse in their daily lives from social to work. It's so bad that parents do not tell their children of the ancestry to avoid discrimination. Also its possible to know if one is a burakumin just by checking family names and registers jsyk, since they were once location based.

EDIT: those judged to be criminals also become part of this group!

More info by a Japanese guy regarding current day burakumin problem here on youtube.

Oh and also, many burakumin ended up joining criminal gangs like the yakuzas. Put another pin in this.

Shinto and the Burakumin people

Preface: shinto is a very sacred religion to many Japanese people and is still actively practiced today. Be respectful and just know I'm being hyper specific about this singular aspect of shinto. It is a very old religion and history which is fascinating.

But to not talk about this specific topic would be to kinda miss what Studio Orange has been doing to Stampede Wolfwood so I'm just gonna do this super quick. A more indepth messy write up can be found here if you like.

Right. So. Like with many religion, Shinto was also used as a means to convince people to fall in line. One thing that Shinto has is the concept of spiritual dirtiness, which is generated upon contact with death, blood and disease. Being dirty would then draw evil spirits and invite terrible misfortunes, so being clean is important in Shintoism. So important that meat was considered dirty. (With the exceptions of game meat and the whole religion thing applied to them.)

It's so important that certain professions such as Butchers, Tanners, Gravediggers etc were seen as so terrible that no one but the etas, the burakumins would do it. This whole thing then reinforces the hierarchy. And meanwhile the rulers in their court and shinto priests could conduct rituals to purify themselves.

And for me, this is the most insane thing since dirty jobs like that must be done no matter what era it is. Just by being alive, people get dirty and there's no avoiding that.

Anyway. In Trigun and even Japanese media, this gets translated into what I would call The Tormented Ones Whose Hands Are Permanently Stained With Blood.

Nicholas the Undertaker was certainly an interesting choice of writing. At least imo.

FUcK

Ok now to recap. I've established that even without colonization and talking about (american pov) racism specifically, there are still very real elements of Japanese history that is too strong, too deep, to intertwined with classism to ignore.

This is the historical baggage of Japan's colorism. Whether or not if Wolfwood is a burakumin here is not the point, but rather that it borrows from that issue all of its influence in varying shades.

It's the erasure of ethnicity and culture in its totality, or to be so consumed by the bigger ruling group that this thread straight up disappears. And to be considered so unwanted that even their descendants today are considered dirty.

They abolished the feudal caste system in the 1800s by the way. Still dealing with like over a thousand years' worth of shit though.

Now I can finally talk about Wolfwood.

Wolfwood's entire character design and writing choice.

Since trimax wolfwood is the base, I'll start with that.

Dark(er) skin, sunglasses, a business suit and a kansai dialect.

All of those are significant.

Now remember that I've mentioned Fair Skin and Black Hair to be the most defining trait of an East Asian. Even people who say East Asian even casually have that specific image in mind. But Wolfwood with the exception of BLR has always been depicted as just slightly tanned especially beside Vash.

The shade fluctuates all the time depending on the artwork, but it's clear that the production staff knows the roots his character design is touching on in order to elicit that "otherness" from the Japanese audience. Which is all that above. The entire post.

Sunglasses and business suit also has a significance. One might think it's just the outfit of an average Japanese salaryman, and yes, that would be technically correct. More so though, this combo is also the outfit style of the Yakuza. Sans ties maybe bc Ww hates his organization.

This is a picture of a Yakuza group known as the Yamaguchi-gumi. Their leader stands in the middle of this photo, the oyabun/father of the group, Kuzuo Taoka. More info and another rabbit hole here.

The Yakuza are a historically violent criminal gang whose membership often consisted of societal outcasts. Outcasts like the Burakumins, who due to their status in society could not find a proper job, and suffer abuse. Being in the Yakuza meant respect and status, and turned boys into men.

All that was needed is absolute loyalty to the leader, the oyabun or the patriarch of the group. If he says it, white is black and black is white. Disloyalty means to chop one's finger off.

If any of this sound even familiar.... Well, yeah. Unhinged criminal boss Knives and his merry Gung Ho Guns.

Next, kansai dialect. So, Japanese dialects are never properly taught when one attempts to learn Japanese. It's a thing that's not Standard and therefore unnecessary to learn. We learn the -desu's, -masu's, the keigo, but never the '-yan's', the 'eenen', the 'akan' or the chau's. (Or even the many other dialects out there)

I will now ask you to hold the idea that 'dialect' and 'language' can be interchangeable. The implications of the Standard Japanese is that it is the ruling class' language and the most proper form of it above all else. Seeing as the Capital of Japan is Tokyo, and their government centers there, it would not be stretch to also call Standard Japanese Tokyo Japanese.

Which means, Tokyo is the classy city and Osaka, the largest city in Kansai, is not as classy. Not as important. Not as well educated or hold as important of a place to the entire country.

It is also very common to hear Japanese people mask their dialect with Standard Japanese when they're in Tokyo, and then go back to their hometown and code switch. Because it's considered 'hick'.

Which, if you haven't considered is also a thing many of us do, I now present you the gift of this fun knowledge.

I Explode

In closing I hope this at least is interesting to chew on for anyone interested. It's by not means perfect and I might have gaps in my knowledge but fwiw, I hope it's at least fun.

Nightow has stated Wolfwood's ethnicity is ambiguous, which I would also interpret as him saying indirectly that Wolfwood is as valid an interpretation to see him as anything but a privileged guy having a good time in the story of Trigun.

It's possible that his ambiguity of roots is meant to simply elicit the idea of a "stolen child".

One fun thing I do consistently notice is that Fanon Wolfwood almost never is in a comfortable position in life even in AUs, and always somewhat broke. In both EN and JP. Which, yeah. Yeah.

There is intersectionality going on and I hope this post helps people see some of it at least. So thanks for reading! (sorry it got so long...)

Additional cool posts other people have written from their pov:

udon-tea's write up about wolfwood's unestablished canon ethnicity

interesting thoughts about tortoise matsumoto being the base and what they think of wolfwood's possible ethnicity

[cea-tide]

I skimmed through it and while it has some valuable advice here and there, when it comes down to giving specific examples, they give sub-optimal or actively privacy-hostile suggestions. I find that odd, as that is the opposite it claims to want to achieve. It falls right into the trap of false privacy the text is talking about. I put more details about my reasoning under the cut. I'd urge you still to follow along, but instead of taking the recommendations they give at face value, check out these two sites and compare: privacytools.io prism-break.org As a general rule of thumb, if the software is free, (libre) and open-source [F(L)OSS], everyone can check the code on malicious or faulty code (including trackers). These are preferred over closed-source solutions, which don't have any such accountability. This does not consider privacy-focused architecture per sé (though people certainly check for that), but the FLOSS community is generally privacy-focused, and you are at least (extremely likely) not tracked by the software itself. Exceptions to everything. Also, I want to mention this because I did not see them talk about it: If you change your details (email, etc.) on an account, all your old tracking data linked to that account (or even email) may now be linked to the new details too! Make an entirely new account wherever you can (and switch to privacy-focused services). This is where those email masks are incredibly useful; one mask per account. Feel free to ask me questions; I'll try to answer them.

They start with linking to Amazon lol, but they do acknowledge that

The RSS reader they recommend is actively promoting (generative) AI

Browsers: they do mention Chromium and its Google ownership, but they fail to mention most of the browsers are based on it, its problems with MV3 (see my #firefox tag), and then they recommend the very browsers that are Chromium-based... Just use Firefox or a derivative of it.

Password Managers: LastPass is not recommended; android app has/had trackers and it has had numerous data breaches.

"Most Privacy Isn't Private". Indeed, the moment you connect to the internet you can be traced eventually with enough effort. You can only make it harder (to the point that it is practically private). That does not mean that you should not try of course :)

Yes, store as much locally on a disk. What is not on the internet cannot be tracked or data-harvested.

Data balkanisation: That's not about giving your data to as many rival companies as possible (???), it's about country data legislation. Are you really relying on the assumption that Google/Yahoo wouldn't want to make a profit by selling more data, regardless of its buyer? Second example: just use Signal where possible because it doesn't share your data...

Ceasar: if you absolutely can't switch from a platform, yes minimise its usage

Firefox extensions: Ghostery is not recommended; it has/had trackers itself, and ads too (according to user reviews on the internet; no personal experience). I have reblogged plenty of FF addon posts before; see my #firefox tag.

Email clients: the default Windows mail app is of course controlled by Microsoft; do not use. I also recommend Thunderbird, but check your options above (and elsewhere). Note, an app is not required if your email provider also has a webmail (e.g. proton). Up to your preference.

Calendars: No comments, beside check the above sites.

Signal is not the only one out there, but it is certainly the most mainstream popular. And the more popular, the lower the social network switching cost, yay

Password Managers: LastPass is not recommended; android app has/had trackers and it has had numerous data breaches. Neither is 1Password recommended, because it is closed-source.

VPNs: I do not trust that list. Again, check above. There is also an outdated VPN privacy overview from 2019 on this website. I will write my own eventually, because that has been abandoned, but that will not be anytime soon. Because I know this specific example, I'll also say explicitly to not use ExpressVPN, because it has been taken over by Kape Technologies.

Collaboration clouds: One of them is powered by AI again... These are all closed-source; I do not recommend them. Instead I use: cryptpad.org, which can also serve as cloud storage, but indeed is a collaboration suite.

No comments on home assistants. They're spot on. All I will say is allowing tunnelling into your home network and connecting Internet of Things, is a massive security risk in general. Also consider setting up a Pi Hole on your network.

Mobile OS: I don't have enough experience on this; no comment.

I urge folks to check out this link. Its a very approachable roadmap to improving your digital privacy. As a consequence, it usually means you'll be supporting tech giants much less. Its not all or nothing either, do what you can.

[cybrasigilism]

could u maybe do like mutual virginity loss with player 125? like both of them r so shy and awkward,, i think it would be adorable.,.

So Anxious (Park Min-su/Player 125 X F! Reader SMUT)

warning: smut, no way | not proofread | lowercase intended | sub x sub | virginity loss | riding | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinions of the character differ from your own

character: park min-su (player 125)

A/N: decided to make this one an out of the games kinda post! i absolutely adore the idea of the reader being just as shy and nervous about the whole ordeal as min-su, thank you for the cute request! hope you enjoy :)

MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, reader’s discretion is advised

➤ since you were both serious about having you first be with someone special, you guys definitely tried to talk it out beforehand. but you both ended up becoming too flustered to really continue.

“how are we gonna be able to do it if we can’t even talk about it?”

“i don’t know…i still want to though..”

➤ when you guys eventually decided to get to it, you initiated the kiss but pulled away almost immediately, covering your face sheepishly.

“sorry! am i moving too fast?”

“n-not at all!” (he was definitely blushing himself, conflicted whether or not to hide the tent in his pants considering what you two were trying to do here)

➤ at first, you guys tried making out in the typical position— you being underneath him. but, you could tell min-su wasn’t exactly confident like this, so you guys switched up to where you would be straddling him. this drove him nuts of course

➤ once you guys got into the groove of things, your nerves began to calm. sure you were both shaking, but it had a bit more to do with the sheer anticipation now coursing through your bodies each time your lips met. it wasn’t made any better when min-su eventually snuck his hands up your shirt, caressing your bare back with his cold palms. the noise you made startled him, which you felt bad for

“oh, i’m sorry.. was that too much?”

“no! no, your hands are just c-cold.. that’s all..”

“ah, did you want me to stop or-“

you shake your head “feels nice, don’t stop on my account.”

➤ you’re unsure if you should at first, but you start to grind on him, drawing a unexpected moan from beneath the kiss you were currently sharing. you broke the kiss as you started to subconsciously grind harder, avoiding eye contact out of embarrassment at the expression that must have been painting your face just then. you could tell min-su was repressing his voice just as much as you were your own— you were both positively petrified to make any sound at all, in fact. but, some stifled moans made their way past as he shifted his grasp from your back to your hips.

➤ when you guys actually ended up having sex, it was a swift matter for both parties. i mean, let’s be real here. you were both completely inexperienced virgins, you couldn’t be surprised that you guys both wound up cumming fast. however swift it may have been, you enjoyed it nonetheless. he wasn’t too big, so it didn’t hurt too badly, but it was enough to make you feel better than your fingers ever could.

➤ oh yeah, and you guys could forget about masking those moans of yours any longer. the moment you sank down onto his dick, min-su was a goner. you had never heard him make such a sound in all your life, and you even asked him if he was alright initially. sure, you may not have been so vocal at first contact, but as soon as you started moving that completely turned on its head.

➤ after the fact, you both just kind of laid there next to one another. silent. come on, you had just changed the trajectory of your friendship forever, that was a lot to process. after a moment though, you both found that neither of you could wipe those stupid grins off your faces. you had just changed the entire path of your friendship, forever. and you were both okay with that

AAAA thank you so much for this adorable request! i absolutely loved writing some soft smut, however short it may have been :) thanks for reading again, and i’ll see you on the next one!

as always, any advice/constructive criticism on how to improve my writing is appreciated and requested! have a fantastic day/night lovelies 💋💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @agorsnotworld @luvlyfandoms @putrescentpoet

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 11 - flatline

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

after your day with rafe yesterday, the girls had so many questions and you told them everything, down to the song he wrote for you. what you didn't expect however, was that the song was going to be released in a few days time.

"i genuinely can't believe this," sarah started, "i mean him opening up to you? the commincation? the song? where is rafe and what have you done with him." she giggled.

"no y/n i don't think you understand the extent of this. like we've all been friends with rafe for a good 6 years, and i have never seen a girl have this affect on him before."

"guys stop you're making me think i'm some kind of miracle." you laughed with them.

"that's because you are a miracle." cleo joined in.

"so do you think you'll become official soon...?" sarah questioned.

"i don't know, the fans already think we are." you stated.

"the fans are fucking crazy. you'll get used to that i promise. when me and pope started dating everyone went bonkers over it." cleo reassured you.

"i guess so, it's okay i don't mind it, it's just getting used to seeing my face whenever i open twitter." you said. "whatever, we've got a flight to catch." you all finished your last minute packing and made your way into the car that was waiting for you outside the hotel.

part of you was sad to be leaving the state you had made so many memories in, but you knew heading back to new york all together was just the beginning for this new chapter for you and rafe.

once you made it to the airport, you found the rest of the boys who had left earlier as they all entered 'dad mode' and were getting stressed, john b to blame for that.

"finally you're here!" john b began as he saw you walk through the door.

"yeah thought we were gonna have to leave without you." pope said sarcastically.

"enough. we're here now aren't we?" cleo said rhetorically.

"yes ma'am" jj joined in, everyone was in agreement that cleo was the boss of the group.

you made your way to say hi to topper, who was slowly starting to become his usual self again, you assumed him and rafe had a conversation to try and clear the air.

but you eventually made it to rafe, who looked like his was patiently waiting his turn to get your attention, "hey you" he said.

"hey" you replied with a slight blush, "i didn't know you were actually going to release the song." you rushed out.

a look of concern took over him, "do you mind?" he asked worriedly.

"no! no i'm happy" you started, "but the fans are a little crazy."

"yeah i know they are and i should've warned you about that, but the best ones mean no harm and all you can try and do is ignore them." he replied.

"hard to ignore them when they're commenting on everything i post." you quietly said.

"i can say something if it really bothers you, okay?" he softly reached out to give your hand a squeeze.

"okay" you smiled at him, always putting you at ease.

"ok love birds pack it in," jj hollered "i don't think this plane is going to wait for us."

"whatever dude" rafe grinned, "ready?" he turned to you.

"ready."

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: sorry guys i made this chapter a lot more smau, just as i had the idea to do the thread (which took me ages LAWD) and also wanted to get the song mentioned ! 5 points to anyone who knows the actual song and band🙈

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes @judesgfirl @4urvalidation @chillgal135 @drewstarkeyslover @yesshewrites1@amterasuu@babykhloutofthisworld @blushmimi  @moonywhisp3rs @rafeysworldim19 @marleymarleymarleymarley@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account@vcnillafairy @bambii1i @sammyrenae68 @popou61

[moody-alcoholic]

Cross My Heart

Part 15 - Special Delivery

Summary: eventual poly141 x reader. Enemies to lovers, mini fic. CW: Death, use of weapons, violence, military inaccuracies. AN: I'm sorry but none of you are ready for the next part...

Previous parts - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

It feels like every time you walk into a room with them it’s more and more awkward. You feel like eyes are digging into you as you walk over to the table in the room and put the laptop down.

“Give me your boots.” Johnny says coming over to you. Before you even question him you’re already taking them off. “I’ll dry them by the radiators.” You nod, Gaz walks up to you as you open the laptop.

“Can you help her set up a keyword search or something?” Price asks.

“What are you looking for?” Gaz asks, pulling the laptop towards him. You look over at Ghost sticking a cloth into some part of a broken down weapon. 

“Here, type in what you want to search for.” He says turning the laptop back to you. 

“What should I search for?” You ask the room. 

“Try Makarov.” Price asks from the doorway. You type it into the search bar, you have no idea what Gaz has done or how he managed to get it working so quickly. In fact the search part seemed to take the longest. You pull a chair over and sit down clicking through each thing. 

“Just some emails, nothing really. They’re talking about the post being shut down.” 

“Try missiles.” Gaz says you nod typing it in if you try Arabic first and nothing comes up so you switch to Russian. There’s only one document, you open it and there's a list and pictures of missiles, at the end there’s a link. You click it and it opens to a video. 

It’s Makarov, he's talking about something, it looks like he’s in some kind of lab or something. He picks up a vial of something. Everyone but Ghost have moved over to the table now.

“What’s he saying?” Gaz asks. 

“He’s talking about a chemical. Those missiles in the garage they’re-” You stop continuing to listen to him. “Chemical bombs, he's using the missile casings to make chemical weapons.” 

“If those are empty shells outside, where are the insides?” Johnny asks.

“Probably with Al Qatala.” You say, the video finishes on a freeze frame of Makarovs face. You look up, Ghost has started putting the weapon back together now. 

“What kind of chemicals?” Price asks. You go back to the document turning it so Johnny can see, he scans over it for a few seconds. 

“That's like white phosphorus.” He says pointing at something. “This is some kind of gas.” 

“Like in Urzikstan?” Gaz asks.

“Like Urzikstan?” You ask.

“He had sarin gas. This is different though.” Johnny says you raise an eyebrow looking up at Price who has his arms crossed with a concerned look on his face. 

“What do we do now?” Gaz asks. 

“We send this to Laswell, let her start looking through it. Tomorrow when we follow them to Makarov we’ll know more.” Price says then moves away from the laptop. 

“I can keep looking.” You say moving the laptop back towards you. 

“Laswell’s programs are faster, besides we need to get some rest. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.” He says. You nod pushing the laptop back to Kyle.

…

Everyone wakes before the sun is up. You slept uncomfortably, not because you had no bed and you were basically sleeping on the hard floor. Because Johnny had the building so hot you woke up in a pool of sweat. At least your clothes are dry though, mostly. 

“Tea?” Johnny asks, passing you a plastic cup. You yawn taking it from him.

“Carry tea into a warzone with you all the time?” You ask.

“Cause, how would we function without it?” You look over at Gaz sitting next to you, you smile at him. 

“No time for a tea break. They could be here any minute.” Price says. You sip the tea anyway; it's sweet and milky not like the kind you’re used to. You get up going over to where all the gear is drying and pick up your vest. It’s still damp but it’s better than being sodden. 

You walk over to the window where Ghost and Price are standing. 

“When do you think they’ll be here?” You ask, tightening the vest. 

“Anytime now.” Ghost says.

“How are we going to follow them without being spotted?” You ask.

“We’ll take the car they left yesterday, if they do see us we’ll hope they think it’s one of them.” Price says. You don’t know if that will work but you trust him. 

“When we get there what's the plan?” You ask. 

“Haven’t got that far yet.” Price smiles and turns to look back into the room. You raise an eyebrow, Johnny comes up next to you throwing his arm over your shoulders. 

“Hey, wanna cozy up with me in the back of the car when we leave?” He says winking at you, you feel heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“You’re driving.” Price says smiling. Johnny’s arm leaves your shoulder as he starts to complain. You chuckle going back over to the window. 

“C’mon, help me pack. You two keep a lookout.” Price says walking past you. You lean up against the window, looking out at the garages. 

“So. What's with the mask?” You ask looking over at Ghost, he turns slightly and crosses his arms looking at you. He doesn’t answer, you frown at him. 

“I think it’s cute.” You tease. He scoffs going to look back out the window. “Are you shy or something? You don’t seem shy.” 

“I don’t like people knowing what I do.” He says. It’s not really a satisfying answer. 

“What, you don’t want people knowing you're military?” You ask. He just lets out a sigh.  

“I get it.” You say looking back out the window. “You want to keep work and home life separate. Do you have someone at home waiting for you?”

“No.” He says quickly. “Not anymore.” 

You don’t press him any further, it feels like you’ve hit a nerve. You’re not waiting much longer, the sun has only just started to break over the horizon when a truck pulls up to the gate. You all make it outside and climb into the car they hid round the back of the building. 

You all wait in silence hearing the garage doors open and close. Johnny doesn’t turn the engine of the car on until you all hear the distant click of the front gates slamming closed. By that point everyone is getting somewhat restless, you’re sat in the back between Ghost and Gaz. Price is in the front with the laptop on his knees. 

“Laswell thinks they might be heading to an old cold war base a few hours from the border of Kastovia.” Price says. “Satellite images have been promising and Russia has no troops in that region.”

“And they would have no reason to lie.” You say raising an eyebrow. You shrug when Price looks back at you. 

“Let’s move, we don’t want to lose them if we’re wrong.” He says gesturing for Johnny to drive. 

…

Price was right, they end up driving into what looks like an old cold war air base. Grass is peaking through the cracked concrete of the runway. The surrounding fence is rusted and collapsed in some places the buildings look rundown and barely functional but you all watch as one of the doors to one of the hangers open and the trucks drive in. 

Price orders Johnny to drive round to a forest about a kilometre away from the place and you all get out. 

“How can we be sure he’s there?” Gaz asks as he closes the boot of the car. 

“He’s there.” Price says confidently. 

“What about the others, The Butcher and Khaled?” You ask as you follow them through the trees. 

“No, they haven’t been spotted. This is a cold war era building though. Chances are there’s an underground tunnel system they’re hiding in.” Price says.

“That explains why we didn’t see many guards.” Ghost replies. 

“Right, besides I don’t think it’s going to be getting in that's the problem.” Price says. You let out a sigh, this feels too easy. It feels like you’re rushing, he’s in that building but like Price said there could be miles of tunnels hidden underneath. He could have a whole army in there just waiting. 

You follow them in silence listening to them talk strategies. The plan seems to be to go in as quietly as possible, cut the alarms, locate Makarov and take him out. Then confirm where the bombs and chemicals are so the US and Russia can come in and clear them up. 

It was a plan, not one you’re particularly happy with but it’s a plan nonetheless. 

“Gaz, Soap. You get in to see if you can find a maintenance room of some kind. Something we can use to tap into their systems.” He hands them the laptop. Gaz takes it then they start making their way down to the building. 

You’re all hidden behind something you think was once a barn but now there's a tree growing out of it and it's collapsed on one side. Ghost has binoculars looking around the place, the sun is out and the sky is clear which is way better than the thunderstorm from last night. 

“Place is quiet. I don’t like it.” Ghost says after a few seconds. 

“Makes our job easier.” Price says. You straighten up when you see the doors of the hanger open again. 

“Eye’s up Ghost.” 

“I see.” He replies. You squint trying to get a better look, you can’t see anything really from this distance, you wonder if Soap and Gaz are having any better look. 

“Shit. That’s Makarov.” Ghost says handing the binoculars over to Price. He brings them up to his eyes. You see a smile on his lips. 

“Got you now fucker.” You hear him whisper under his breath as he takes the binoculars down and hands them over to Ghost. 

“Update Soap and Gaz. I’ll get Laswell in the loop.” He says before turning to walk away. 

“Soap, Gaz. Makarov is heading into the main building.” 

“Copy.” You hear Gaz call back. “How’s our way in looking?”

“You’re clear. Watch yourselves.” 

“Always.” Soap replies. You turn behind you to see Price talking on a phone. You try to look for them but you can’t see them at all. You watch as Makarov makes it into the building with his entourage. 

“We’re in, making our way to the building now.” Gaz says. 

“Copy, watch your step, we have no intel you’re going in blind.”

“Copy, won’t be blind for long though.” Gaz whispers. You’re holding your breath, your palms have gone sweaty. You’re nervous, you want to be with them, helping them. What if they get hurt? They know what they’re doing, they’ve been trained for this. 

“How’re we looking?” Price asks as he comes back standing next to you. 

“We’re in, looking for a maintenance room.” Soap whispers as if on cue. 

“Good. Let us know when you have access then we’ll move.” Price says. It feels like you’re waiting forever, the seconds feel like minutes, you find yourself constantly checking your watch. 

“Nervous?” Price asks. You look over at him and smile. 

“Never.” He smiles back nodding his head.

“We’re in. Looks like Makarov is sitting pretty at the top of the ATC. Can you get a visual Ghost?” You all look up at the tower, you can’t see anything from here. 

“Copy. I see him.” Ghost says after a few seconds.

“We can override the security and lock him in there?” Gaz asks.

“Good, do it. Any signs of tunnels?” Price asks. 

“Nothing, everything seems to be above ground.” Gaz responds, you look over at Price. It feels too easy. 

“How many inside?” 

“A few dozen, 30. Maybe 40.” Soap says.

“Civilians?” 

“Negative.” 

“Stay put, we're coming to you.” Price says tapping Ghost on the shoulder.   

It doesn’t take you long to make it to the part of the wall Soap and Gaz made it though. Ghost and Price are faster than they are. More sure in their movements, they handle their weapons in a way you’ve never seen before, its second nature to them. You all slip through a side door and walk into a dimly lit corridor. 

“Were in.” Price says. You see Soap stick his head round a corner with his weapon drawn before lowering it. You all walk over to him seeing Gaz kneeled down next to the laptop hooked up to what you assume is some kind of server. 

“Gaz, stay here. Guide us, we’ll clear floor by floor. Make sure Makarov doesn't try anything. He’s not getting away this time.” Price says. Gaz nods and the rest of you make it out the room closing the door behind you. 

“Which way Gaz?” Price asks as you all stand there looking to him for direction. 

“Door to the left will take you through to the main entrance, then right through the double doors will take you into the mess.” Gaz says. “You’re looking at about 15-20 people.” You swallow hard. That’s a lot.

“Are you sure we can take that many people at once?” You ask before you can stop yourself. Soap chuckles and you feel embarrassed. 

“We’ve dealt with worse odds. Besides, we have an advantage.” Price says. You frown, shaking your head at him. 

“They don’t know we’re here.” Price says, clicking the safely off his weapon and turning to the left. 

He was right again. Surprising them was a big advantage. Gaz was good at calling out hazards too. You knew where they were before they could even find you. It felt clinical, maybe you’re used to it now, all the killing. It’s not hard when you’ve done it a few times. 

You don’t think about it, you just shoot, shoot them or they will shoot you. You don’t think about if they have a life outside of this. They’re the enemy, they’re making bombs and chemicals to hurt actual innocent people.  

“Mess and kitchen are clear. You’ve got people coming from the west side of the building.” Gaz says. You all get into position before the first few soldiers manage to get shots off. You have to duck under a table slipping on something and fall on your ass. 

You hear Soap chuckle coming over to you and grab your arm pulling you up. 

“Change your mag, I'll cover you.” He says. You nod, pulling the almost empty one out and pressing a new one in. The firing has stopped by the time you’re ready to fire again. You look over at the pile of bodies in the doorway. The room stinks of blood and gunpowder. 

You don’t think that is something you can ever get used to. 

“Looks like you’re clear.” The last few soldiers are with Makarov. I would hurry if I was you. I had to trigger a security lockdown so they couldn’t leave the ATC tower. He’s trying to override it. I don’t know how long you have.” Gaz explains. 

“Copy, we’re moving.” Price says already jogging out the room. When you make it back outside the building you see people coming out of the hangar towards you. 

“Go we’ll hold them off!” Soap shouts grabbing your arm to stop you. You nod at him and watch as Ghost and Price run off towards the ATC tower. You fire off shots with Soap, some are hitting, your adrenaline is pumping and your hands are sweaty. 

He grabs your arm pulling you to cover behind a roadblock. Now it’s your turn to cover him so he can reload. You look over the block and fire off shots trying your best to make them land. You can’t tell if you’re getting better or not. The last one falls as he gets back up. 

“C’mon let's catch up with the others. You watch our six, yeah?” You nod and follow him up the winding stairs of the tower. 

You hear an explosion. You both freeze for a second, your eyes meeting before you’re sprinting up the stairs. It takes the wind out of you sprinting up the steps trying to keep up with Soap. By the time you make it to the top you have to brace your hands on your knees and take in lungfuls of air. 

When you look back up Soap has gone, the doors to the control room are open. You walk in hearing voices. 

“You think you can stop us all Captain?” That has to be Makarov, his thick Russian accent cutting through the air. 

“Maybe not. But we’re going to give it a damn good try.” You hear Price say as a shot is fired. You make it round the control panel just in time to see his body flop to the ground. 

“Gaz, target down. Where’s the control room in this place?” Price asks as he turns, your eyes meet. There’s something different in them now, you quickly look back down at the body. His eyes look dark, focused. This was personal, you swallow hard, your throat feeling suddenly dry. 

“Main building second floor.” Gaz says. You’re already turning to move back down the stairs before them. You feel a shiver up your spine. They got Makarov, they’ve got the weapons, now all they need to do is get the Americans and Russians in here to clear the place out. 

It felt weird, like something had changed between you all. Well something had changed, they’ve completed their mission. You feel a shiver run up your spine remembering the cold look in Price’s eyes. 

It’s not even over yet Jamal and Khaled, they're both still out there, they’re both probably involved in continuing Makarovs work. He was right, they can’t stop them all.

You make it to the control room first Gaz is leaned over a laptop. The room looks out of place almost like they just slammed a concrete box down in the middle of the building, maybe they did. You had to walk through a set of metal sliding doors to get in. 

“Where are the others?” he asks looking over your shoulder, you turn to see no one following you.

“They must have got turned around.” You say. 

“I’ll go get them, stay here.” he says. You nod, swinging the weapon off your shoulder and putting it on one of the tables. You hear them before you see them, they must have not been that far behind. You walk over to the door to meet up with them. It slides shut and you step back for a second then step up again. Nothing changes, you frown looking up at the sensor waking your hand. 

You sigh, maybe it can only be opened from the other side, you can see them walk into the little room you can only describe as an airlock. This building really is as old as the cold war. When they make it to the door it doesn’t budge. 

They look at you confused. 

“I don’t know.” You say reaching over to press the red emergency open button, it doesn’t do anything. Suddenly you hear a hiss and a clank, they all turn watching the door behind them slide closed and lock. 

An alarm rings out. They look at Gaz who looks down at the laptop, you can see him furiously clicking on the keyboard.  

“The whole system’s gone into lockdown.” He says, you see panic on his face. Fuck. Price looks back at you. 

“Did you touch anything?” He asks. 

“No of course not!” You shout back defensively. Suddenly there’s another hissing, this wasn't like the one in their room. This one sounds different. You look up trying to place it. 

“What’s happening?” Price asks. You look round, it’s the vents, a few seconds later a thick smoke starts to seep out of them. It almost immediately makes you gag and cough. You bring your arm hand up to block your nose and mouth. 

You look back at Price, now you can see panic on his face. 

Fuck.

next

Banners by plum98

[nonightingalesinberkelysquare]

WARNING FOR GOOD OMENS SPOILERS!!!!

FURTHER SLIGHT SPOILER WARNING FOR THE FOLLOWING BOOKS: The Bone Clock by David Mitchell, You Only Call When You're In Trouble by Stephen Mcauley, and Bibliomaniac by Robin Ince.

Edit: Photos by @polychromicron-persei-8 !!!!!

So I'm sure a lot of the fandom have seen the pictures posted by a very lucky fan who saw the production of good omens happening out in Scotland today!!

However what I'm not seeing people talk about is a hidden gem in the reblogs.

SOMEONE HAD MANAGED TO GET A PICTURE OF THE BOOKS IN THE WINDOW!!!

Naturally, I had to go and do my research to see if these books give us any clues or serve any other purposes other than decorative purposes

AND LET ME TELL YOU

These are the the books visible in the window:

I'll go through them one by one

(Please bear in mind, I haven't read any of these books personally!! The only information I have on them are the little bits I found online in a very rushed attempt at research!!!)

Okay firstly

"The Bone Clocks" by David Mitchell

Now, this is the one that I struggled to make sense of the most out of the three.

The story appears to follow a runaway teenage girl who is a "lightning rod for psychic phenomena." These visions are said to reorder reality and send her into a real life nightmare.

However,

It also states that there is a boy who eventually crosses paths with her and who's story "comes together in moments of grace and extraordinary wonder"

As I said, I've never read these books and the only link I could begin to make with this is the idea of a "supernatural being meets another supernatural being and what they can do when they're together defies anyone's wildest dreams" story, similar to what we have seen and could see in GO3.

The next book is where it gets FARRRR more interesting (in my opinion)

NOW

THE TITLE? INTERESTING ASF.

IS AZIRAPHALE IN TROUBLE? OR EVEN CROWLEY?

The quotes are literally taken from the amazon listing itself, but I'll just point out the bits that stuck out to me personally.

☆ "is it ever okay to stop caring for others and start living for yourself?"

And I'm skipping a HUUUUGE chunk of the story here so apologies

☆ "Tom does what he's always done - answers the call."

☆ "Thus begins a journey that will change everyone's life and demonstrate the beauty or dysfunction (or both?) of the ties that bind families together and sometimes strangle them."

THAT LAST QUOTE REALLY STICKS OUT TO ME. Personally, I'd say that could possibly relate to the heaven and hell divides?

But furthermore, we were told prior to the whole NG situation that Aziraphale and Crowley aren't talking.. so could that mean that as soon as they begin speaking once again, they have the power to leave heaven and hell behind? Perhaps stop the divides?

And last, but certainly not least

Now, keep in mind that this particular book is nonfiction and appears to be written from the authors own point of view as he aims to visit 100 bookshops in 100 days.

This has a relatively short description from what I can see right now so I'll put it in here

"Bibliomaniac takes the reader on a journey across Britain as Robin explores his lifelong love of bookshops and books - and also tries to find out just why he can never have enough of them.

It is the story of an addiction and a romance, and also of an occasional points failure."

This one interested me SO much because it SCREAMS Aziraphale character development sort of thing? You know?

I really struggled to find any spoilers for this one whatsoever but one website did mention the author's love for vintage books, which he only ever reads as and when, as opposed to focusing on just one book.

I just thought this was SO SO SOOOOO interesting, and if anybody has any differing thoughts/interpretations or has even read the books, the comment section is a safe space to do so!!! All theories/suggestions are welcomed (any hate WILL be blocked, don't test me).

OR MAYBE THIS ALL MEANS NOTHING AND IM JUST CLOWNING FAR TOO HARD?!??!??!

[astrasng]

touchstarved txt ౨ৎ

→ summary: every human being needs someones touch.

→ warning: mainly fluff, little cursing.

→ a/n: this is the first post of my valentines week special. so, happy valentines week to everyone ♡ make sure to treat yourself to something delicious and stay hydrated! ♡

here's the masterlist to the event ^^

enjoy!♡

──── ⋆˚࿔ soobin

soobin who doesn't remember the last time someone touched him like this. not because they had to, (because of fitting or anything relatable to his work) but because they wanted to out of love. the feeling of someone's love with a simple touch almost makes him cry out, melting into your touch the first time you hold him. his whole body going slack against yours as he lets himself relax in your arms. he furrows his eyebrows slightly when he feels you swiping your fingers through his hair, only saying a small please continue as he snuggles into your neck more feeling your warm soft touch. "no one ever held me like this before"

──── ⋆˚࿔ yeonjun

when he started his idol career, he didn't think he'd find true love. always focusing on his dreams, on his members and family. love wasn't the first thing on his mind, but when you came into the picture everything changed. he craved for your attention of every hour of the day,texting you constantly to know you are doing fine and happy. somewhere in his mind and heart, it calmed him to know you are safe. when his schedule let him, he spent every time of his with you, always having an arm around you or his hands caressing yours in his palm. yeonjun usually carefully chooses the people he lets in his personal space, and you are one of them. it was rare to see him act so boldly or affectionate in public, but whenever you feel his hands swiping the hair out of your face of fixing something on your dress always makes you blush uncontrollably. you often think he just put an arm around me and my knees are already giving out i'm so pathetic but in all truthness this is your boyfriend's little game. "i just wanted to see you crave my touch as bad as i do with yours."

──── ⋆˚࿔ beomgyu

he spends almost every free time of his hovering around you. not stalker like, but rather like a curious friend. because he is your friend, and it nearly kills him. he wants you to notice him, to give him a fucking chance, and when you do he basically disappears for days. showing up with a smile days after,saying that he was preparing for your first date and when you see what he has been doing you feel guilt building up on you for not dating him sooner. beomgyu craves your love and touch like its a drug, finding every excuse to touch you. either pulling out a chair for you and touch the base of your back slightly to secure you sit down safely, or teasingly pulling on your hair whenever he has the chance. if he's really down bad for you, he even pulls your hand into his lap and examines your lifeline. "this definately says I'll be in your life for forever"

──── ⋆˚࿔ taehyun

taehyun mostly looks forward to nights.he knows you are home waiting for him, already done with work and busying yourself until he's done at the company. his heart beats the closer he gets to his apartment, because he already knows what is going to go down. he practically feels your hug already, your arms wrapped around him to pull him further into your shared home. he loves cuddling with you on the couch or on your bed, his face smushed against your chest to slowly lulling him into a deep sleep. his heart gives up mid-day when he suddenly remembers how you feel in his arms, wanting nothing more but to go home sooner and be with you. it's like his body psysically craves for you, melting into you the minute his body hits the bed yet again after a long day. there are nights when you have to wait for him so long that you eventually fall asleep, but taehyun always wraps his arms around you to feel like he's home again. "I'm home baby" he then murmurs like you can hear him in your sleep.

──── ⋆˚࿔ hueningkai

kai,someone who always puts his focus on his work suddenly gets annoyed when his balance is wavered. to the point he can't even go to practice without thinking of you, your face suddenly appearing in his mind in the middle of rehearsals. touchstarved kai, who thinks he can get you out of his mind if he works out enough, but this isn't the case. because the minute he sees you again he has to have your hands on him, missing your touch and the way you melt into his body when hugging him. he's just so madly in love. "i needed to remember how your hug feels like" says in a whisper as you basically feel him crush your bones.

important!: this is pure fiction, the act in this story is by my imagination and not based off true events. please do not copy the work.

[makeitworse]

he’s not me

˖ ࣪✦ su-bong (thanos) x f reader x dae-ho | nsfw dc, mdni

freshly single, you’re out on the town hunting a rebound from your shitty ex. but did you really think he’d let you get away that easy?

c/w: dark themes! drug addiction, very toxic relationship, violence & abuse, choking, possessiveness, manipulation, dub+noncon, cunnilingus, semi-public unprotected sex, degradation, so much angst a/n: sequel to this (or a standalone). this became so much longer than i intended.. there’s alot going on. i intentionally left the ending open. it’s your choice if they do/don’t eventually get back together

it’s your first night post-freedom from su-bong, and you couldn’t be more eager to sink your teeth into someone new.

you walk the crowded streets under fluorescent lights in the tiniest dress you own. the type you’d keep hidden in the back of your closet: su-bong wouldn’t like it. he’d ask who you think you’re trying to impress. well nevermind him. fuck him.

you spare a wink to every man that you checks you out. you don’t avoid brushing against them, you don’t even flinch when you feel their hand lingering a second too long as you pass by. you’re in need of a distraction tonight, and any man will do.

you float through bars, and the men gravitate to you. you’re not really listening when they tell you about their business or their crypto or all the women they have on speed-dial as if you’re meant to cum on the spot. the lines you did before you left the house had made it impossible to zone out.

you were chucking back any shots that slid your way. you were in a rush to drown out the thoughts of your ex creeping in.

you couldn’t hold glasses too long, else you’d remember the shatters that littered across the floor when he threw them. you couldn’t stare at doors too long, else you’d remember hearing his fist denting the wood and blood marking the spots. you said you were done being with him, and he showed you exactly why.

you take deep breaths to ground yourself. attention from old drunks at the bar was a shitty pre-game; you needed someone who could pound the memories of your ex out of you.

back on the street, you were already wobbling with the weight of all the please-fuck-me drinks they bought you - but who’s counting anyway? you bee-lined to the first place booming with flashing lights and music.

you’re leaning at the bar, squinting through the pulsing LED lights to scan the crowds. your breath hitches as a hand lands on your ass.

you face him, hoping to god it’s not you-know-who, and thank fucking christ it’s not. god, you need him out of your head already. this guy’s not hot enough to do the job though.

you tune him out as he talks your ear off, and you continue to check out the selection. your gaze lands on a man sitting at a table with his back turned to you, hair falling down his neck: nam-gyu?

you really couldn’t tell through all this rainbow flashbanging of the lights.

you watch him turn his head to the side, chatting to the person sitting next to him. his face is full with a warm smile, and focusing through all the music you could just hear the gentleness of his laugh. yeah that’s definitely not nam-gyu. but colour you attracted.

you honed in on him.

the few people around the table took notice of you, and not-nam-gyu turns in his stool to face you. he’s gorgeous.

you hadn’t noticed that his hair was actually half-up in a ponytail. strands fell around his face, and he eyed you curiously with that kind smile. you wanted to sit on it.

“don’t i know you?”

he shakes his head gently, seeming almost disappointed in himself for not recognising you back. you bite your lip and feign trying to put a name to his face.

“oh!” you point to him, “you’re the guy who’s taking me to the dance floor.”

whistles and gibes erupted around the table. he glances to his friends, then shyly back at you. your palm opens for him, and with a friend’s nudge to his shoulder, his hand’s on top of yours.

your fingers weave between each other’s as you lead him to the floor. as you squeeze through the dancing crowd, he plants a careful hand on your back and keeps you close to him, pushing through people first to open the way for you.

he turns to you, and your arms wrap around his shoulders. “what a gentleman.”

he just chuckles, cautiously keeping that singular hand on your back. you can’t say you’re used to such restraint for a man.

“i’m sorry, i haven’t asked your name.”

you coo it to him, pulling him in to press your bodies together. he gasps under his breath.

“dae-ho.” he smiles gently, flustered.

you sway together to the music, quickly progressing to jumping and hands in the air. you’re both giggling through the flashing lights. your cheeks hurt from smiling and your throat’s sore from singing - but you’re moving in sync, moving like you were made for one another.

you already felt a flame flickering in your belly, even with such little words. you’d long forgotten your main objective: now you just wanted to keep basking in dae-ho’s warmth. you wanted to know more than just his name.

you brush the tip of your nose against his and catch his breath come out shallow. your hands slowly drag his own down your back, and he almost resists with uncertainty. but you gaze up at him through half-lidded eyes: irises pools of desire. dae-ho succumbs, and his hands rest on your ass.

you loll your head forward, lips grazing his jaw. his chest falls with a deep exhale.

“i’m sorry, gorgeous. we can’t do anything while you’re in this state.”

you furrow your brow with genuine confusion. he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear in reassurance.

“i promise i want to, but you’re drunker than i am. it’s not right.”

oh. see, your ex wouldn’t have given one singular fuck about that. (there was one particular instance when you were sobbing after a bad trip, and he had the audacity to get hard.)

you cupped dae-hoe’s blushing cheek in your hand. “then can we see in the morning?”

your voice delivered needy. he notices, and sighs. you were a breathing moral dilemma for dae-ho. his first instinct wasn’t just taking what he wants. not like he would have.

“i shouldn’t let you go home alone like this, anyway.”

you smile together. you chuckle together. you want to kiss him. so you do.

but he pulls you away with a gentle hand on your cheek. you pout.

“i’ll make it up to you once you’re thinking clearly.”

a rough hand locks around your arm and snatches you from dae-ho. you knock into his chest and breathe in the smoke clinging to his shirt. you knew exactly who it was before you heard his annoying drawl.

“babygirllll, i’ve been looking for you.” su-bong squishes your cheeks with his hand under your chin, and you writhe in his grip. “you’ve had me so worried.”

dae-ho tensed upon seeing your resistance. “hey!-”

you watch su-bong stare daggers back at dae-ho. “and who the fuck are you?” he juts his jaw, taking a step closer. “huh??”

heads begin turning at his voice raising, with whispers among the crowd recognising him as a rapper. “fuck you think you’re doin’ all up on my girl, bro?”

“su-bong.” you hiss. he cocks his head ever-so-slightly in your direction, like he couldn’t care less about what you have to say. but you knew what he wanted.

“let’s just go.”

his hand lands on your waist, fingers digging in like he’s trying to break the skin. you don’t hide the fact that you wince. he mutters, “there’s my good girl.”

then he’s dragging you through the crowd, and you can’t bear to spare dae-ho a second glance.

su-bong kicks open a backdoor and shoves you out into a dark alleyway filled with dumpsters. he doesn’t spare you any time to observe your surroundings, because he leeches onto your face and invades your mouth with his tongue.

his knee pushes through your legs to dig up into your core. his long arms kept you in place, hold too tight to writhe free from.

su-bong’s touch seared your skin like acid - but it was a familiar sting. comforting even. you almost missed it.

your body submits to him. you kiss him back, you whine into his mouth. just like he wants. you won’t admit it to yourself, but you’re not even fully acting.

once you feel his grip loosen, you knee him in the crotch, shoving him away as he keels over.

su-bong’s groans of pain blends into a low chuckle. “fuck, you tease.”

“take a fucking hint, su-bong! we’re over!”

“mm,” he hums, like he’s not taking you seriously. he steps to you again. you step back. “you know much i need you. i can’t live without my pretty lady.”

“you’re a fucking cockblocker.”

su-bong bites his lip, eyes scanning over your outfit choice. that little dress that revealed a little too much.

“shit, baby,” his palms carelessly roamed all over your curves, ignoring you trying to push them away. “looks like you were just begging for my attention, huh?”

you scoff. “any man’s but yours.”

you catch the twitch of his eyebrow and clench of his jaw. you recognised well the signs of when he was getting ticked off. but you also caught the moment he cleared his head with a sigh. can’t fuck up his big chance now.

su-bong just shakes his head with a smirk.

“tell me, baby. who’d take you in-,” he pinches your chin. “-after they see you’re just a junkie with a pretty face?”

he makes sure to flick his gaze at you, catch the fleeting shame in your eyes. of course he does. he’s revelling in this shit. like he can save you from yourself if you just run into his arms now.

“it’s none of your business who i fuck. we’re not together anymore.”

“right,” he hunches over with a laugh. “and i guess we’ve both quit drugs too, right?”

you didn’t want to keep getting him off by provoking you, but you just couldn’t swallow down the words stinging your throat.

“like you didn’t get me hooked on that shit!” you spat. “fuck you!-”

you blink, and pain radiates all over your back. you blink again, and su-bong’s pressing into you. it takes a third blink to realise he’d shoved you against the alley wall.

it’s not the bruising grip of his hands on your body or his nails digging into your skin that scares you, it’s his piercing gaze. like his eyes are ripping you open.

“don’t.. even tempt me.”

his voice is hoarse, laced with want. need. he’s itching for a fix.

he brings a delicate hand up to caress your face. “i can be good, baby. i promise. i can do better for you this time.”

he’s planting soft kisses on your neck, goosebumps spreading across your skin as he whispers about how much he loves you, everything he’d do for you.

you shut your eyes as tears gloss over them. there used to be a point in time where you would’ve believed him. and maybe he would’ve meant it too.

but now, the love that binded you was replaced by an addiction: not only drugs, but each other.

the highs were full of screams and bruises and hate-sex. and the withdrawals were even worse. you were dying after every dose. you were killing the other, and yourself.

“we bring out the worst in each other, su-bong.”

“then there’s nobody else for us.”

no two people should ever hold the power to hurt each other like you do. you decide then- not even think, just state:

“i’m going clean tomorrow.”

su-bong scoffs. he doesn’t believe you mean it, and you’re not even sure you do.

“so you’re never seeing me again.”

after a beat, his expression turns solemn. he realises you’re not just provoked, you’re not just trying to hurt him- you’re serious.

his eyes trail off, lost in thought. your body braces itself on instinct. you don’t know what he’ll do to you next. but he just meets your gaze, black pupils swallowing his irises in desire.

“then why are you still here?”

and your lips were on his. your teeth clashed together and his nicked at your lip from the haste, but you kept kissing feverishly through the pain. your tongues twisted with each other’s: su-bong was desperate to reach every corner, taste every last bit of you for the last time. one last hit until you quit him cold turkey.

his hands greedily groped at your tits, your hips, your ass - while your own slid underneath his baggy shirt to claw at his back.

he bit at your neck, you scratched at his flesh. you rolled your hips into his, and he thrusted his hard-on back. he crashed his lips onto yours and kissed you like he was starving to eat you alive.

su-bong keeled over with a moan from the back of his throat as you grasped the outline of his dick through his pants, hot and damp with pre-cum.

in turn he pulled the hem of your dress up. you felt the twitch of his cock in your palm when he saw your pussy dripping- no panties.

“you fucking little-”

you forced su-bong down by his shoulders and he fell to his knees.

“shut the fuck up.”

you push him to your cunt and cry out when he latches on with a hot, open mouth.

he’s lapping at you like a dog. you slouch against the wall as your legs go numb, and su-bong crushes a hand around your hamstring to keep you in place for him. his other splits your cunt open with two digits inside, curling recklessly while he sucks your clit.

incoherent curses at him blended together with your whines. any ‘fuck you’ was lost in a moan when he’d pull his fingers in and out to hit your sweet spot.

he knew you were close with the way your voice went hoarse and your thighs clamped around his head - and that’s when the bitch pulled away.

he propped you up against the wall and tugged his waistband down, his cock springing free with a string of pre-cum.

“shit, baby.” he bit his lip and lined himself up with you. he groaned as his tip prodded your cunt. “you sure we’re over?”

“yes we fucking are.”

you moaned in sync when he thrusted in. for a beat, he stayed there, filling you to the hilt. his heaving body had you pushed up against the wall. he was savouring it. he groaned lowly into your ear.

“hurry up.”

your head knocked back into the wall as he snatched your neck into his hand and started slamming his hips into yours.

the throbbing in your crown was drowned out by su-bong abusing your cunt with his impatient pace, ramming into your cervix and eliciting a cry from you with every thrust.

su-bong was fucking you like you’ll drop dead when the clock strikes midnight. and in a way- the version of you that’d let a man fuck you like he hates your guts will.

su-bong stuck his forehead onto yours, beading with sweat. you saw yourself in his eyes: brows knotted, eyes laced with disgust. and his own were fawning over you, lips panting with a smile.

“you make me fucking sick.” you stammer out, feeling the knot undo with every ram of his dick to your sweet spot.

he presses a wet kiss to your lips that you don’t return. “i’m in love with you, baby.”

you unravelled then. su-bong maintained his bruising pace while your walls fluttered around his cock. he bit down onto your shoulder to smother his moans as his hips stuttered inside of you, and he came following yours.

your bodies slouched together. your hair stuck to your skin with sweat, and you thought you saw the dye dripping from su-bong’s ends.

you wish you hadn’t cum when you did. you wish you didn’t give him the satisfaction of that being the magic words. you wish you could tell yourself it wasn’t because of him.

without a second glance, you pulled his dick out of you with a grunt from him. smoothing your dress back down, you bump shoulders with su-bong as you move to leave. his arm shoots out around your waist to halt you.

and you just shove it off of you.

you keep your head forward, and as the door swings open to greet you with the booming club music, the only thought in your mind is to find dae-ho.

empty bottles of wine collected on the floor next to your side of the bed. futile attempts to ignore the scab your brain kept picking at.

it’s been months, and you can’t go a day without scratching at it to see if it still hurts. if you just left it alone, then maybe you’d actually heal.

you thought you saw him. you don’t even really know if you did, or if you just wanted to. a flash of purple hair amongst the club’s crowd had your throat burning with bile.

dae-ho’s arm snug around your waist felt you stiffen up, and he faced you: tears already clumping in your lashes. him taking you back home went without question.

now you were dozing off as dae-ho stroked your hair, half-lidded eyes full of adoration. he drew over the lines of your face with his fingers, his touch so gentle like you’d crack if he wasn’t careful.

if he was more like your ex, he’d try to see how rough you could take before you shattered. and then he’d pick up every piece to put you back together.

you were warm in bed with your boyfriend cooing you to sleep about how much he loves you, but tonight all you could think of is how he could never compare to su-bong.

dae-ho gets up to slide under the cover of his side. you gravitate to his heat, burying your face in his neck. he jumps when you plant a hand on the front of his boxers.

“hey- let’s save that for the morning, okay? after i’ve made you a coffee.” he chuckles.

he kisses your forehead. but for some reason, your skin seared with.. disappointment.

su-bong would have taken full advantage of you in your boozy state. you would’ve been irresistible to him, so well-behaved. so perfect for him.

..does dae-ho not want you?

you don’t even know why, but suddenly you’re sobbing quietly and staining his shirt with tears. and dae-ho’s comforting you, apologising if he said anything wrong, and none of it feels right. it’s just not what su-bong would do. he’s just not him.

su-bong hovers over the faces of girls in the bar crowd till he finds vaguely what he’s looking for. she’s pretty, probably. she looks enough like you from afar.

a little bit of chit-chat, and he’s thrusting up into her against the wall of the grimy restroom. he doesn’t look at her face, he wasn’t listening when she introduced herself. his eyes were screwed shut to keep his mind in the place he wanted. the place he needed to cum. and it slips from his mouth in a moan as he does.

a few seconds of shocked silence pass before the girl’s shoving him and mumbling cusses. “why didn’t you just fuck her then?!” rings out as the door slams behind her.

for months on end he��d been numbing himself with shit he wouldn’t let you touch - and still none of the harder drugs were giving him withdrawals like you leaving. needing you was hardwired into his brain chemistry. and well, you had been far more addicted than he was.

you’ll get bored of that guy. and the ones that follow him, too. but nothing will come close to the high that su-bong gave you.

and you always know where to find home.

[cloversnstrawberries]

oc intro post ! ! parental!platonic yandere!supervillian

! requests open !

warnings; vague depictions of violence, implied violence against children/youth (reader), slight mentions of gore, body horror(?), and medical horror, yandere behavior, kidnapping, and there may be more i'm forgetting :( if so, please let me know!!

additional notes; hello everynyan, here is my first OC, Malpractice!! very creative name, i know, but i thought it fit (and also it's funny to me) :D i'm not quite sure what format to do for these introductions, but i'm sure as I make more i'll get better at them :) please leave suggestions for any parts/additions you'd like for these intros!!

! ! introduction blurb & moodboard below the cut ! !

Malpractice is known as one of the most destructive and hard-to-deal with villain in all of history, having appeared around the 1930s and refusing to go away since. Malpractices comes and he goes, but he always seems to return eventually, whether that be in three months, or 20 years. He is like an illness that never truly goes away. Remission is possible, but the possibility for it to resurface at any moment is a very real, impending threat.

With abilities ranging from mind control, disease manipulation, pseudo-necromancy, and enhanced senses, speed, and strength; no one hero could ever hope to face Malpractice head on alone. Not even a group of them could ever hope to entirely defeat Malpractice,

Malpractice was a charismatic, slippery asshole-- he'd never really been caught before, but he's sure as hell caught others before. While he isn't known for doing this often, if he wants something bad enough, he'll take his time to set a well thought out trap to catch whatever-- or whoever-- it was he sought.

And when he saw you, so young but so very battered-- left to deal with an (albeit low level, but still dangerous in its own right) threat because your mentor/partner, prioritized a personal goings-on instead of staying by your side.

He'd seen as the so called hero went off the side, leaving you to fight the threat alone-- as you desperately called for their help, only to realize that they'd left without a word; beckoned by the person on the phone.

And it must've been so strange, to feel a little tug on his heart as he witnessed your reaction. Not quite angry, but rather... disappointed, but accepting. Like this was a regular, expected occurrence. Like you were blaming yourself for holding your mentor to a higher standard than this.

By then, Malpractice had decided that you deserved better. He could provide you with that-- besides, in his eyes, even if you were just on the cusp of adulthood-- you were still a child.

My, the industry sure had gone downhill from his time, hadn't it? When he'd been a doctor helping the superpowered individuals, working under the agency, though in it's infancy at the time, had taught him that children were to be nowhere near the career.

Sidekicks were not children, they were simply other superpowered individuals who along, did not do very well; but fit well with a more powerful hero, creating a dynamic duo.

You and your mentor couldn't couldn't be more different, both personality and ability wise. Really, what was he supposed to do, not spring a 'surprise adoption' on you?

Obviously, you're only fighting it because you don't feel worthy of love. That's the only reason, not that you're afraid of him or anything!

[blueberrymocha]

misc hc ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

┌──────────────────────────────────────┐

ׂ╰┈➤ fluff

➣ characters: gon, killua, kurapika, leorio, hisoka, illumi, chrollo

➣ a/n: slightly different post 🧐 might make a part 2

└──────────────────────┘

gon

• he’d get a dog after coming back to whale island. probably an outdoor one that he’d show around the island—keeping him occupied for days.

• in fact, i think he’d always wanted one but because he was waiting most of his childhood to become a hunter/find ging, he didn’t want to raise a pet just to immediately leave for years while he searched.

• you know when you’re mad at someone, so you don’t talk for days? he’s the kind of person who would practically force you to interact with him unintentionally.

• like he’d wake you up for breakfast or call you when he heads to the market to ask what you want—forgetting you’re supposed to be fighting.

killua

• he had restricted media access growing up, so now he loves binge watching shows and movies.

• of course, everything is better for him when you’re around, so he’d force you to watch them with him. the perfect afternoon for him is gathering some snacks and watching whatever for hours, and he might even let you be cuddly.

• he has a lot of twisted ideas about what love looks like. there would be moments where he feels like you don’t love him because you’re not as overbearing and controlling as kikyo/illumi.

kurapika

• finds the sound of breathing very soothing, especially his s/o’s—sometimes while you sleep he’ll just lie beside you, watching your chest rise and fall and listening to your breaths.

• he’s pretty tenderheaded, so if you ever try to brush his hair or run your fingers through it while it’s tangled, he’d ask you to stop.

• adding onto that; i feel like you’d have to be very, very close for him to eventually allow it. the action would just remind him too much of being a child and having his hair taken care of by his mother.

leorio

• loves jazz and oldies music + occasionally will sing or hum along (he’d do the thing where he sings one part and then points to you to finish the lyric) (please match his energy).

• he becomes very chill at night compared to his usual intensive personality. what that looks like is him speaking often but in a softer, ramble-type voice. he’d narrate his actions, occasionally talking to you as he basks in the quiet atmosphere.

• as for his actions, he’d do nightly chores around the house regardless of your insistence he doesn’t need to. he hates the prospect of being useless—something he feels often with his friends. so around you, he just really wants to help.

hisoka

• he has harmful and harmless magic tricks. he loves to show both off.

• none would be harmful to you, but you’d have to establish early on that you’re not okay with him pulling things like the flower petal trick in front of you (unless you are 🧐).

• if he had a pet, it’d be a bunny. and on that subject, he completely disapproves of animals in magic shows (thinks they’re cheap tricks).

illumi

• this man cannot cook to save his life. and can you blame him? if i had servants on servants, i wouldn’t pick up a spatula either.

• still, he hates not being able to do things, so he often finds himself asking you to teach him. with cooking, not everyone is made for it.. he is a perfect example. no matter how many lessons, how great the advice or recipe is; it won’t turn out if he’s in the kitchen.

• his behavior towards killua would be entirely different from how he treats you. he views you as his equal, not a puppet, and it’s not his job to change/mold you. so generally, he’s nowhere near as controlling or manipulative (though because it’s his nature, i wouldn’t rule it out).

chrollo

• the gentleman act he puts on for people like neon is probably how he’d act around his s/o a lot of the time. not to manipulate you, but just because he’s not used to showing his natural self around non-spiders, so he puts on a facade he knows you’d like.

• the longer you spend around him, the more you’d begin to notice his real personality creeping through. it’d start with small remarks and comments that he doesn’t tell others, almost like he’s on a reality tv show and you’re the audience. eventually, he’d become more comfortable with you seeing him while he’s emotional.

• he’d read all the books you read so you could have conversations on them. even leaving sticky notes at certain parts so he remembers to tell you about his initial reaction.

[randomfoggytiger]

The X-Files: Scully's Pregnancy and Mulder's Abduction

(Extract from a larger meta I'm working on~.)

I’ve read elsewhere that it was speculated by fans-- nay, planned by the producers-- to kill Mulder off in Requiem’s finale. By the same token, I’ve seen echoing sentiment that Scully’s pregnancy was tacked on as a last-minute attention grab to green light Season 8. And while there may be degrees of truth to both ideologies, the facts presented reveal a different, more realistic truth: Scully’s conception was planned around the alien ship in Biogenesis-The Sixth Extinction (post here); and Mulder’s abduction, not death, was going to be filmed the same with or without an eighth season. 

Quoting Marc Shapiro’s book:

“Requiem” wrapped filming on May 5, 2000. The consensus was that the season finale was stark, bleak, and ultimately satisfying episode. But there still were no answers. 

“Nobody knew when we started that episode that we were coming back,” concludes Spotnitz. “Nobody knew it at the wrap party. It was a very odd wrap party. We were all saying, ‘This can’t be the end because it doesn’t feel right.’ It just didn’t feel like we had closure.” 

Shortly before “Requiem” aired, Fox announced that “The X-Files” would be back for an eighth season. David Duchovny had agreed to come back but would only appear in a total of eleven episodes….

That fact is repeated in other interviews, which also claim-- over and over-- that Scully’s pregnancy was definitively planned when The Sixth Extinction and Amor Fati were penned:

This May 2000 joint interview--

Did the producers shoot an alternative ending, as reported?

That`s just crazy talk, insists Carter: “I would have played it the same way whether [Duchovny] came back or not.” In fact, Carter says he`s been planning Mulder`s abduction and Scully`s pregnancy since the start of the season. “I thought it was a finale that would work for any eventuality. And because we had planned to do movies, I thought that would be a place to pick up with those things.”

Perhaps the alternative-ending rumors stem from the producers` clandestine high jinks: Because they wanted to keep the prenatal plot under wraps, the pregnancy scene wasn't revealed to the crew until the night it was shot. “The last page of the script was never published,” says Spotnitz. “That was a secret we were trying to hold as long as possible.”

--this July 2000 interview-- 

“I [Carter] had to write the season finale — which is called ‘Requiem’ — I had to write it without knowing whether or not we’d be back.” 

--this November 2000 interview--

We heard there were 2 possible endings for “Requiem”…can you tell us what the other ending we didn’t see was and how long before you filmed the episode did you decide to make Scully’s pregnancy an option?

"It was never an option, it was always the ending. I [Carter] just did not inform the actors or the crew that Scully’s pregnancy was going to be in the script. I had planned this for months with Frank Spotnitz and only delivered the script pages to Kim Manners — the director — and to Gillian and Mitch Pileggi minutes before they performed the scene. I’m just paranoid!" 

--this Frank Spotnitz December 2000 solo interview--

When was the decision made to pursue a storyline in which Scully becomes pregnant?

Spotnitz: "At the very beginning of season seven, we hit upon the idea and it seemed wonderful to us. There was beautiful symmetry to it. We knew that was our target all season, and so we did a number of things in episodes that would be tantalizing for fans who later were to look back at the episodes and try and figure out when Scully might have gotten pregnant and how. And that’s something we will continue to explore this season. But all questions will be answered by the end of the season, we promise." 

--and the information presented in previous sections of this post all bear up under the same narrative.

But potentially the most shocking bombshell of all, Spotnitz admitted in May 2008 that a pregnancy for Scully had been in the works since Season 5:

Q: When (the year or the season) did you plan the storyline about Scully’s pregnacy?

FS: We had thought about it for some time (at least since Season 5), but we didn’t definitely decide on Scully’s pregnancy until Season 7.

Although CC’s word is tentative at best, Spotnitz never wavers from honesty when asked a direct question; and I'm inclined to believe him.

But if neither are to be believed-- understandable-- then one glance at Amor Fati’s ending script should crush any remaining doubt: 

(More Amor Fati script bits can be found here.) 

A parallel with purposed intent. 

Is a pregnancy at odds with Scully's personality? No, I don't think so: she's open to having kids as early as The Jersey Devil and brings the subject up pointedly to Mulder in Home (post here.) She mourns her infertility in A Christmas Carol-- "I just never realized how much I wanted it until I couldn't have it"-- and grasps at an IVF chance in Per Manum's flashbacks (posts here and here.) The FBI itself is actually a considerably safe career, and quite supportive of their agents' familial obligations. The problem-- if one could call it that-- is The X-Files: an undeniably, astronomically unsafe and unstable career that is not conducive to family needs or structure... which the writers crafted purposefully, as will be discussed below.

Mulder wants a normal life just as much as Scully (@thursdayinspace's post here) but gave up those aspirations-- literally in The Jersey Devil-- in order to find his answers and unveil the Truth. His character arc and growth is a meta post all its own; but though his journey was concluded in Closure, his detachment from and transition away from the files didn't conclude until Season 8's Vienen. Be that as it may, he speaks about a wish to settle down in a place like Home and dreams about "another life, another world" with a wife and children and his sister, safe at last.

Why, then, does the baby arc feel so tacked on-- despite the roots of its conception (pun intended) tracing back to at least Season 5?

Surprise, surprise: the writing is a mess.

In March 2003, David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson were both glad the show was coming to a close. She gently hinted, “I think it’s good to finish now. We had a great run, but we’re getting out at the right time when the show is still a hit" while he blatantly asserted, “You cannot say it died anything but a natural death." No surprise, considering their excitement over Scully's pregnancy and Mulder's abduction were reduced to footnotes--

Tom Kessenich’s EXaminations:

...Anderson wasn't thrilled with the amount of attention the writers were lavishing on Doggett. ...she believed with Duchovny gone this would be her chance to step into the show's spotlight. Instead, the light shines on Doggett...

...Duchovny felt some frustration as well once he returned full-time for the final six episodes. In interviews after the season, he lamented the lack of resolution to Mulder's abduction and that Mulder was rendered into being a "peripheral" character.

...Duchovny also did not care for the paternity tease since it prevented him and Anderson from establishing any proper dramatic foreshadowing. The two stars were also reportedly unhappy the relationship between Mulder and Scully was not expired more fully since Duchovny planned to leave the series at the end of the season.

--and both had to begrudgingly accept, as parents, that their characters effectively abandoned (for his own good, we're told) William--

"Duchovny, Anderson, and Shiban (all parents) reportedly were not thrilled with the idea. They grudgingly consented only after Carter revealed his plan to end the series with Mulder and Scully on the run, hardly in the best position to raise a child."

What's worse, then and now, is: both agreed, largely, with the direction and decisions of the show heading into Season 8; and heavily disagreed with the direction and decisions of the show unfolding in Season 9. Not only was David and Gillian's interest in Scully's pregnancy and Mulder's abduction squandered, but their own characters' recovery and happy ending was swiftly destroyed not even a year later.

CONCLUSION

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!