#BELIEVE THE G. A. S. COMPANY

[yeoldenews]

A selection of strange and cryptic personal ads from The New York Herald, 1860s to 1870s. 17/?

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter Fourteen

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren’t quirks, they’re survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, jealous lando, protective grid, sexual content

Notes — Welcome to the 2021 Formula One season! (Testing, but still... it counts). Also... hehehehehehehe double update <3

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! — Peach x

2021

WhatsApp Groupchat — 2021 F1 Grid

Lewis H. A warm welcome to our 2021 rookies! Mick, and Yuki :)

Lando N. Yeah, welcome or whatever More importantly, does anyone know if I can call up the Apple store in Woking and get them to deliver to me? Even though it’s closed rn

Lewis H. What happened? Did her iPad break?

Lando N. Yeah mate, completely toast.

Max V. Shit. I can have one express delivered to your flat, Lando. It is, of course, a work expense.

Yuki T. Uh hey I guess! I thought this was a work only chat? Did I get the wrong briefing?

George R. It usually is, but as admin I allow Amelia-based chat @Yuki

Mick S. Hey! Great to be here. Um, just curious though. Who is Amelia?

Max V. My lead technical engineer.

Lando N. My girlfriend.

Lewis H. Zak Brown’s daughter.

Fernando A. Her iPad is broken? I will bring her one now. Lando, send me your home address.

Mick S. Ohhh, I actually know Amelia Brown!

Lando N. ?????????? @Mick

Fernando A. Lando you have not sent me your address.

Max V. @Fernando I have already purchased the iPad.

Mick S. @Lando we met years ago, mate. She used to ski with her family where mine did in the winter.

Lando N. You heard the part where she’s my girlfriend, yeah @Mick?

Mick S. Yes…

Lando N. Good.

Fernando A. @Max She will need it delivered to her soon.

Charles L. It finally broke? Wow. Lasted far longer than I believed it would.

Lando N. @Charles Not a good time for jokes, mate. She’s devastated

Daniel R. Should I start carrying a spare iPad to races with me just in case? LOL.

Lando N. Wait that’s a good idea Somebody write that down Max write that down

Max V. I purchased three. I will carry the spares

Fernando A. Vamos, Max!

Pierre G. I bet the rookies are so confused lmao. Welcome to the grid group chat. We discuss penalties, race conditions, plane shares, and Amelia Brown.

Carlos S. @Lando How is she? Did she freak out?

Lando N. She’s good now. All chill.

Lewis H. Tell her that I just bought her a new bunny sticker book. I’ll give it to her at testing.

Lance S. If I buy her the entire Apple company, do you think she will come and fix the Aston Martin car?

Max V. NO.

Yuki T. This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen in any grid group chat, and the f2 chat used to get weird lol

George R. Welcome to the grid, Yuki. Keep your head on straight, and if you ever find a lost iPad with a bunny sticker on it anywhere in the paddock, make sure it gets back to Amelia asap

Lando N. Thats important for all of the rookies to know @Mick @Yuki 

Mick S. Sure I’ll keep an eye out!

Lando N. Actually I change my mind Mick if you see an iPad just leave it yeah :) 

Mick S. ????

Pierre G. This is going to be a great year. 

Checo P. All of the other drivers have this chat muted, yes?

Kimi R. Yes. 

— 

Amelia was crouched down by Max's car, her hand resting on the tire as she scanned through the data on her iPad. The numbers on the screen felt too slow, almost static, compared to the racing thoughts racing through her head.

Beside her, Jos loomed over her, a red-ink pen poised above her little black notebook. He was taking notes for her. Her mind was moving faster than her hands could keep up, and sometimes, just sometimes, she needed someone like him, methodical, steady, and patient, to help her process it all.

Her fingers flicked over the screen, swiping through the data from Max's morning run, when she paused, eyes flicking to Jos. “You see what I see?” she asked, her voice low, as if speaking any louder might break the delicate focus she’d managed to carve out for herself.

Jos nodded, his eyes scanning the information on the screen before looking back down at the scribbles he’d started in her notebook. “More rear stability in the high-speed corners. We’ll need to adjust the dampers again,” he said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact.

Amelia’s eyes tightened slightly as she thought. “We might need to soften the rear more. The front’s too reactive. Max is going to be fighting it in corners three and four, especially.” She tapped the screen lightly, zooming in on the section of the track map. “The car’s settling into a snap too fast, can’t keep up with the rear load in the high-speed sections.”

Jos made a mark in her notebook. “Front end’s still too eager, then?” He sighed. 

“Yeah, exactly,” Amelia made a face. “We soften that just a little bit more. Max needs more confidence in the corners. Less initial bite, more consistency. Maybe tweak the ride height slightly too.” Her words were coming faster now as the solution to their issues fell into place in her brain. 

As the day wore on, Max’s car was fine-tuned with the adjustments, and Amelia watched on with satisfaction as everything came together in perfect harmony. 

They had a plan. The tweaks would work. Max would be happy with the handling.

She turned to Jos when the mechanics started to wheel Max’s car back into the garage for the final time, day one of testing officially over, giving him a small but appreciative smile.

He pulled her notebook out of the pocket of his jeans and handed it over. “I hope you can understand my handwriting.” 

— 

Amelia sat opposite Max at one of the small team tables in the Red Bull hospitality unit. Most of the staff had already filtered out for the night, their voices fading down the hallway as engineers, PR reps, and mechanics headed for shuttles and taxis. But the two of them lingered — Amelia, still editing Jos’ scribbled notes from earlier in the day, and Max, who had quietly gotten into the habit of not leaving until she did.

It was almost sweet. He dropped her off to Lando at her hotel room at the end of every day like she was a preschooler getting passed between divorced parents. She hadn’t said anything about it, partly because it was practical, and partly because she didn’t mind it. It was nice not to have to worry about being alone.

Across from her, Max was hunched low in his chair, arms folded tight across his chest, mouth set in a hard line. His gaze flicked from the tabletop to her notebook and back again, a rhythm she’d seen a hundred times before. It meant he was thinking. Hard. Or more likely, overthinking.

She didn’t bother looking up. “Just say it.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You’ve been fidgeting with your straw for six minutes. It’s starting to irritate me.”

Max exhaled through his nose, leaning back into the bench with a groan. “You are very annoying.”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, finally meeting his eyes. “Max, tell me.”

He hesitated, then shifted forward, resting his elbows on the table. There was a pause, a rare, tentative kind, and then, quieter than usual, he said, “I’m nervous.”

That made her put the pen down.

“For the season?” she asked, although she already suspected the answer.

Max nodded. “Everyone keeps saying 2021 is my year. Like it’s inevitable. Like this is it. And I want it — Fuck, I want it so bad. I’ve worked for it my whole life. But now that it’s here, I don’t know…” He rubbed a hand down his face. “What if it doesn’t happen?”

“It might not,” Amelia said plainly.

Max looked like he wanted to argue, but stopped short, blinking at her. “Comforting.”

“You’re not asking for comfort,” she said. “You’re asking if you’re good enough. And yes, you are. But this sport doesn’t always care about that.”

He let that sit for a moment. Nodded.

Then, quieter still, “There’s something else.”

Amelia raised an eyebrow.

“I met someone. Over the break.”

She made a face. “Someone?”

He groaned. “Don’t do the eyebrow thing.”

She relaxed her face. “Who did you meet?”

Max scratched at the edge of the table. “I met her in Monaco. She’s nice. A lawyer . She thinks I’m just… Max. I didn’t tell her about the racing. About… everything. She doesn’t follow F1.”

Amelia leaned forward slightly. “So she doesn’t know who you are.”

He shrugged helplessly. “She knows who I am. Just not… what I do.”

Amelia tilted her head. “And you like that?”

“I think so,” he said. “It’s peaceful. She talks to me like a normal person. No hero-worship, no pressure. Just… calm.”

“You’re lying to her, essentially,” she said bluntly. “Not a good foundation for a relationship.”

He shot her a withering look. “Jesus. You’re worse than my dad.”

“I take that as a compliment. We have the same goal.”

“I know.”

She looked down at her notebook, flipping a page and skimming it for a second. “You think you can manage both? A relationship and a championship battle?”

He hesitated. “Is that selfish?”

“No,” she said, then looked back at him. “But it might be a bit stupid.”

Max chuckled dryly. “Thanks.”

“I’m not saying you can’t have both,” Amelia added. “I’m just saying that it probably won’t work.” 

He frowned, nodded slowly, then said, “But you’re managing your relationship and my championship.”

“I’m not the one driving the car, Max.” She argued. 

“Still,” he muttered. “You’re making it work. I could make it work.”

She shrugged. “Okay. Is she nice?”

Max nodded, “I almost ran her over.”

She blinked at him. “Oh. That’s… romantic?” She tried. 

He laughed shortly. “She was in a rush, didn’t look properly. I apologised and gave her a ride to work. She— she, uh, thinks that I’m just some wealthy businessman’s son, or something.”

She chewed on her bottom lip, anxiety curling in the pit of her stomach. “You should stop lying to her. I would… I would not like it if I was in that situation and I found out that I was being lied to.” 

Max sighed. Nodded. 

Then he stood, grabbed both their jackets, and slung hers over the back of her chair. “Come on. Let’s get you to your boyfriend before he starts texting me again asking where you are.”

She gave him a flat look. “He has a GPS tracker on my phone.” 

Max rolled his eyes. “Of course he does. Typical Norris.”

She shrugged. “It’s sweet. Sometimes I get lost and he has to come and find me.” 

Max laughed, and for the first time all day, some of the tightness left his posture. “Yeah,” he said, holding the door open for her. “Probably good that he has it, then.” 

— 

The lights of Manama twinkled in the distance, warm and hazy against the desert night. From the balcony of their hotel suite, the city looked like it belonged to another world; quiet and golden and slow in a way the paddock never was. The hum of the air conditioning inside was replaced by the occasional distant honk of a car, or the hush of wind weaving through the palm trees below.

Amelia was seated cross-legged on one of the outdoor chairs, wrapped in a white robe, her hair still damp from her shower. Lando, in a t-shirt and joggers, was fiddling with a tiny bottle opener, attempting to open a bottle of some obscure sparkling drink he’d insisted was “romantic, okay baby? Trust me.”

Their room service tray sat between them on the small table. Grilled flatbreads, mezze, roasted lamb. Lando had ordered for them and he’d gotten everything right.

“I don’t know how you always remember this stuff,” she said, dipping a piece of bread into a tangy yogurt sauce.

Lando grinned, finally getting the bottle open with a victorious pop. “Because I listen when you talk. I know the face you make when you think something tastes bad or has a yucky texture. I have eyes. Shocking, I know.”

Amelia gave him a pointed look. “Last week, you kissed my eyeball because you were being lazy and tried to kiss me with your eyes closed.”

“Shut up.” He huffed. 

She laughed quietly, curling into him, giving him a bit of the blanket. “I think Max might be in love,” she said suddenly.

Lando blinked. “Max? Verstappen?”

“Mm,” she nodded, chewing. “He told me today that he met someone over the winter. She doesn’t know who he is. Like, really doesn’t know. Thinks he’s just some rich guy named Max.”

Lando made a face. “That… feels impossible.”

“She’s apparently very disconnected. Doesn’t follow the sport. Max likes it.”

Lando nodded slowly. “Weird. But kind of sweet, I guess.”

She frowned at him. “I told him he shouldn’t be dating during a title fight.”

“Very romantic of you.” Lando teased. 

She shrugged. “I never said I was romantic.”

“No,” he said. “But you are.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t disagree. Instead, she reached for his hand where it rested on the table, her fingers brushing over his lightly. “I hope you do very well this year, Lan.” She told him, earnest and hopeful. “You deserve it.” 

Lando turned his hand over to lace their fingers together. “So do you. Deserve to do well, I mean. You’ve worked so hard this past year. You deserve to see it pay off.”

Amelia didn’t say anything right away. She just leaned over and kissed him; soft, sweet, clinging. It wasn’t meant to lead anywhere at first, just a thank you. But she didn’t pull away. And he didn’t let her go.

She ended up in his lap, her legs curled against his chest, her robe brushing his knees. His hands slid instinctively around her back, fingers splaying wide against the thin fabric, grounding her. Grounding himself.

They stayed like that for a long time. The balcony lights dimmed behind them. The city hummed faintly in the distance, the last remnants of dinner cooling on the table, the silence between them easy.

Then, gently, she climbed off of him and stood. Her bare feet whispered against the tile as she stepped forward, and she stopped just in front of where he sat, between his knees. Her eyes searched his face for a beat, then she reached for the hem of his t-shirt.

“Come inside with me?”

Lando’s breath caught slightly. He looked up at her, her expression steady, soft, open, and nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

Inside, the hotel room was cast in warm light, golden from a low bedside lamp. The curtains were drawn against the city, muffling the world outside. The bed was turned down, sheets crisp, pillows fluffed. A quiet kind of invitation.

She tugged him by the hand toward the bed, and he followed without a word, heart thudding in his chest.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t awkward.

There was a kind of reverence to the way they undressed, slow, curious. Amelia’s robe slipped from her shoulders, caught briefly on her elbows before pooling at her feet. Lando’s hands hovered just for a second before brushing up her arms, like he was making sure she wouldn’t vanish if he touched her too quickly.

Their kisses deepened, still hesitant but filled with intent, with the weight of everything they’d been building toward for over a year. Every laugh, every shared moment of delicate intimacy, every time they’d caught each other’s eyes across a garage or a hotel lobby, it all settled into the space between them.

Lando’s mouth trailed across her skin with an almost startled sort of wonder, like he was learning a language he’d been waiting to speak. Her fingers threaded through his curls, tugging gently when his lips brushed the hollow of her throat. They moved together with quiet urgency, limbs tangled, breath catching against skin.

At one point, Lando paused, hovering just above her, his eyes sweeping across her face, flushed, focused, real.

“You’re so... fuck,” he whispered, barely audible.

Amelia blinked, lips curling faintly. “Not sure that’s a compliment.”

He kissed the curve of her shoulder, then her collarbone. “It is,” he murmured. “It really is.”

And when they finally settled under the covers, tangled together with her head tucked beneath his chin, Lando let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

She didn’t say much, but her fingers curled into his shirt like she wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon, and that was enough. 

— 

The sunlight was already creeping through the sliver of the curtains when Lando stirred, warmth pooling low in his stomach before he was even fully awake. For a moment, he didn’t move, just blinked up at the ceiling, trying to remember if he’d dreamt the night before, or if it had really happened.

Then she shifted against him.

Amelia was tucked beneath his arm, hair a little wild against his chest, one bare leg tangled over his. Her cheek was pressed just below his collarbone, lips slightly parted, her breath steady and warm against his skin.

Definitely not a dream.

He smiled, slow, stupid, unbelievably content.

She felt it too, maybe, his laugh or the way his fingers brushed along her back, because she mumbled something that sounded vaguely like a complaint and burrowed closer, clearly not ready to be awake yet.

Lando tilted his head, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Morning, baby.”

She made a noise that was more sigh than word. “Mm. No.”

“No what?”

“No talking,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep. “Too early.”

He laughed quietly, the sound muffled by her hair. “It’s almost seven.”

“Too early for you to be this cheerful.” She grumbled.

Lando shifted just enough to look down at her, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. “I’m not cheerful.”

“You’re smiling.”

He smiled wider. “Can you blame me?”

She cracked an eye open, blinking up at him. Her face was still soft from sleep, a little puffy and makeup-free, but to him, she looked... ridiculously beautiful.

“What?” she asked, because he was staring.

“Nothing,” he said, brushing his thumb along her jaw. “I just really like waking up next to you.”

Her expression shifted slightly. And then, a second later, she exhaled and said quietly, “I like it, too.”

Lando kissed her, just a little one, lazy and warm.

They lay tangled in the sheets, the morning light spilling gently across the room. For a while, neither of them moved, perfectly content to exist in the quiet, wrapped up in warmth and each other.

Eventually, Amelia stirred, shifting just enough to reach over to the nightstand. She blinked blearily at her phone and then sighed and glanced across the room.

“Shit,” she muttered. “I forgot to charge my iPad.”

Lando, still half-asleep, pressed a slow kiss to her bare shoulder. “I plugged it in when I got up in the middle of the night to go for a piss.”

She turned to look at him, her expression soft, a little surprised. Her voice came quiet. “You did?”

He nodded, eyes still heavy with sleep. “Didn’t want you waking up to it dead.”

A pause. Then she gave him the smallest pout, sleepy and affectionate and so purely her. “I love you.”

He broke into a grin, one of those quiet, full-body smiles that lived in his eyes. “Yeah,” he murmured, brushing her hair back. “I love you too.”

—

The McLaren motorhome was buzzing with early morning energy, the consistent hum of coffee machines working overtime. Amelia slipped through the front doors with her badge swinging around her neck, hair still damp from a rushed shower, and Lando trailing behind her, half-yawning into a croissant.

Zak spotted them first, already seated at one of the corner tables with Daniel, who was halfway through a heaping plate of scrambled eggs and talking animatedly about something.

“There’s my girl,” Zak called, waving them over.

Amelia dropped into the seat beside her dad with a tired sigh. “Morning, dad.” She kissed his cheek. 

“You sound tired,” he frowned at her, sipping his coffee.

Lando slid into the chair beside her, nudging her with his knee under the table. She handed him a napkin in response, gesturing for him to wipe the crumbs away from his face, and he smiled. 

Daniel looked between them, eyebrows raised. “You must be Amelia. I’m Daniel. Can’t actually believe we’ve not met properly before now.” 

“I know.” Amelia agreed, already reaching across the table for a muffin.

Daniel leaned in a little, grinning. “Lando talks about you all the damn time. In debriefs, pre-race meetings, on his radio—”

��Please stop talking,” Lando glared at his new teammate, clearly embarrassed.

“She’s worth talking about,” Zak laughed, patting Amelia on the shoulder with a fond smile.

Daniel smirked at Lando, thoroughly enjoying his discomfort. Lando just narrowed his eyes at him, his cheeks flushing slightly.

Amelia took another bite of her muffin, savouring her food. But before she could finish, her phone buzzed violently against the table. It was from Max.

iMessage — 7:33am

Max Verstappen Are you here, sister? I want to talk about my steering set-up

Amelia On my way to you now.

She shoved the rest of her muffin into her mouth and stood up in one swift motion. “Okay. I gotta go.”

Lando looked up, surprised. “Already?”

Amelia kissed him quickly on the cheek, her lips lingering for just a second longer than expected. She gave her dad a quick shoulder squeeze before smiling at Daniel, her usual bluntness softened by a bit of shyness she wasn’t used to showing in front of him. “Max wants my advice.”

Zak called after her with a grin. “Tell Jos I want my daughter back for lunch.”

“No promises,” she replied with a glance over her shoulder, already speed-walking toward the exit. Her hair bounced with each step, and her phone was pressed to her ear before she even made it out of the motorhome.

Daniel leaned toward Lando as she disappeared down the hallway. “You’re screwed, brother.”

Lando shot him a look, kicking him under the table. “Shut up.”

— 

WhatsApp Groupchat — 2021 F1 Grid

Yuki T. I have Amelia’s iPad in AlphaTauri garage

Lewis H. Yeah, this has to be a new record.

Lando N. Lol she’s just been rly busy. Probably hasn’t noticed she hasn’t got it yet

Max V. She just noticed and started freaking out. @Yuki I’m on my way to get it.

Lando N. She okay @Max?

Max V. Yes mate, no need to worry.

Mick S. @Max Can I pop by your garage and say hi to her? It’s been years!

Lando N. @Max Say no. Max, say no. Max, say no.

Max V. @Mick No, she is too busy for friends.

Lando N. LMAO, REKT @Mick.

Mick S. Bro????? I really don’t want to steal your girlfriend 😭

Fernando A. You do not believe my Amelia is good enough for you, Schumacher?

Max V. What the fuck Mick

Charles L. Uh oh 😬😬

Pierre G. Bro that was NOT the right thing to say 😭

Max V. @Mick She wouldn’t even look your way. 

Lando N. Wild angle, mate @Mick

George R. We are witnessing a man dig his own grave live in chat

Daniel R. *shovels faster* Keep going, Mick. Say you think she’s boring next.

Sebastian V. This feels like bullying.

Yuki T. I think it is  

Carlos S. @Mick Just lie down. Accept it. The storm will pass.

Mick S. I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT 😭😭😭 I literally just meant she’s your girlfriend and I respect that! @Lando

Lando N. Sure you did. 

Fernando A. In my country we have a saying — "Schumacher has placed his own foot in his own mouth."

Lewis H. Pick your words better next time yeah? @Mick

Lance S. This is why rookies don’t get access to Amelia.

Esteban O. Wait does that mean I have access to Amelia?

Max V. No.

Fernando A. Absolutely not.

Lando N. You do not.

Valtteri B. I do not speak much in this chat but I just want to say: Mick, this is very funny.

Antonio G. +1

Nicholas L. same 😭

Sebastian V. Let it be a lesson to all of us. Never try to be polite in here. It will be weaponised.

Charles L. I miss when this chat was about tyre pressures and strategy.

George R. That’s adorable. It’s never been that.

NEXT CHAPTER

[bywons]

⋆ DOUBLE SHOT ESPRESSO — YJW

╰—— “ say you can't sleep? baby, i know, that's that me espresso ” — where jungwon still remembers the way to your heart

🪽 𝖾𝗑-𝖻𝖿! 𝗒𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀��𝗈𝗇 x 𝖿! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 g . 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝖾𝗑𝖾𝗌𝟤𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 1855 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 ! 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 ✦ ◞ CATALOGUE

๑´ ³`) ﾉ pls leave feedbacks if u liked it ♡ REBLOG !!

ib — espresso by sabrina carpenter ♡ for @okwonyo ’s celestial ballet event!

“jay?”, you pause your typing on the desktop, groaning as you massage your temples. “can you grab my usual drink from the cafeteria?”

“double shot espresso”, a mellow voice floats to you from the cubicle to your left, “am i right?”

“yeah, you're righ—”, wait. this doesn't sound like park jongseong. his voice is more serious, and besides you never had to repeat your order for jay. then whose voice is this? it sounds so familiar, so close. almost as if you know the face behind it.

you push your heels against the cold office floor, propelling yourself backward in your swivel chair, rolling away from your cubicle. it's dull, the atmosphere inside the office. the central AC cranked to the coolest setting, contributing to the dim lighting to make you squirm on your seat. outside, the sky is overcast, heavy with the promise of rain.

the wall separating you from the unknown man's cubicle, is now visible. behind it you can only see the outline of his black shirt, sleeves rolled up, fingers pretending to type.

“uhm”, you clear your throat, now just behind him, “you new here?”

“new to the office,” he finally spoke again, this time turning around in his chair, only to give you a heart attack, “but definitely not new to you.”

yang fucking jungwon. this cheeky bastard. you wish you could punch that sly smirk out of his face. the way his arms are crossed together with his head held high, eyes glinting with a mischievous hint while he holds his smirk on his lips.

is he trying to challenge you? but the last time you saw him was 5 months ago, in a desperate cry of getting you back in front of your apartment doorstep, with a bouquet of roses and baby's breath he bought in a rush. you had a hard time shooing him away that night. but then again jungwon is a fishy player, always at the node of your suspicion.

he has you banging your head against the wall, internally of course, yet again after 6 whole months.

jungwon leans back in his chair, head resting back, that teasing smile never leaving. this nonchalant asshole. "new job, same floor. didn't expect to see me, did you?”

“what do you want, jungwon?”, you try to keep your cool, arms crossed with a bored expression.

“ouch!”, he places a hand over his heart, pretending to be in pain— all the while having a smile attached, “jungwon? where's won? wonnie, my love? can we not do that?” what a drama queen.

you furrow your brows, a suspicious look casting over your face, “are you stalking me now?”

jungwon chuckles, sitting up straight in his chair, “stalking? no, i just happened to get a job here. pure coincidence.”

you narrow your eyes, not buying it for a second. “really? pure coincidence?”

“okay, maybe i pulled a few strings,” he admits, raising his hands in mock surrender. “but can you blame me? i missed you.”

“seriously, get out”, you whisper-scoff, loud enough for him to hear and frown. pushing your heels against the floor again, you return to your cubicle.

you cannot believe this man right now, did he actually stalk you enough to know your workplace? is he that desperate? heck, you can't even remember why you broke up with him in the first place. not with that pretty face of his following you to your cubicle, on his own swivel chair. and oh you can already predict his whines and horrific shenanigans to impress you back.

not to say, you do enjoy his company. he's a charming devil, always knowing how to make you laugh even when you don't want to. but you refuse to let him think he can just waltz back into your life without any consequences.

jungwon rolls his chair up beside yours, the wheels squeaking slightly. “ever since we've broken up, i can't sleep y/n. you're there in my dreams.”

you let out a chortle, loud enough to echo back to you, as you turn your head to jungwon— still laughing sarcastically. “i know, that's me, espresso. it's my kinda effect.”

“c’mon babe, let me have a chance to prove myself—”

“...i need to check this paperwork”, you stand up abruptly, collecting the messy papers filled with sticky notes all in a bunch and hurrying to the desk at the corner of the office.

before even putting the paperwork down on the desk, you feel his presence again beside you. he is speed, didn't waste a second of his time right after you broke up to show up at your door with your favourite plush toy he won at the claw machine in 5 minutes paired with his horrible guitar skills. to be very honest, you enjoy jungwon's antics. maybe even love it, he is an incredible person to be around. but he just can't be your hype boy, and you crave hype in your life.

you sigh, rummaging through the paperwork.

“remember our dance nights?”, you gasp at his sudden proximity, his lips nearly grazing the tip of your ears, the strong smell of his perfume ghosting all over. he moved a tad bit closer, the soft outline of his abs pressing gently against your back, “or the karaoke ones? or our late night swimming session? when have i ever bored you out, baby?”, his voice drops to a whisper.

thank god the office was empty, you don't how you would've explained your flustered face. you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, let them fly around, yang jungwon's going to mess up anyway. find some absurd antic of his to give you the ick and then you're gonna shoo him away again.

no more yang jungwon, no more headache, no more drama.

but what is life without a little drama? you've given the poor guy a fair chase of 6 months. he loves to chase hard to get, you love to play hard to get. it's a simple equation really, a match made in heaven. you can't deny the void you felt in your heart all these months when jungwon was away too. you were eager, longing, almost manifesting for his touch, for him to come back in your life.

and the universe listened, so you shouldn't complain now.

“i've been thinking of you, every day, every night”, his voice becoming huskier, now standing just behind. his fingers threaten to close in your waist; he plays with the fabric of your shirt.

“isn't that sweet?”, you reply, unable to move a muscle— you're under his spell, or is he under yours?

“i guess so,” he scoffs, “everything about you is sweet.” his hands finally close in around your waist, chin resting on top of your shoulder.

god, why aren't there any people in this office! it's only giving yang jungwon more courage to pull you closer, until your back pressed against his broad chest. a wave of nostalgia, dangerous for both of yet more for him. he has missed you, your touch, your voice, your daily espresso. god knows how bad he waited for this, again.

feathery lips brushing against the tip of your ears, a shiver down your spine. are you in for it again?

“why now?” you ask, exasperation creeping into your voice. “why after all these months?”

he takes a deep breath, his expression turning serious, arms tightening around you. “because i’ve had time to think. time to realise how much i screwed up and how much i miss you. i know it won’t be easy, but i'm willing to do whatever it takes.”

you shake your head, feeling the weight of his words but unwilling to give in just yet. “jungwon, we broke up for a reason. we both needed space and time to figure things out.”

“i know,” he says softly, turning you around. “and i've used that time to work on myself. i’ve changed, love. let me show you.”

you look into his eyes, searching for any hint of deception. but all you see is sincerity and determination. it’s the same look he had when you first fell for him.

a moment of bliss, before jungwon makes it even more euphoric. he pulls you in, in a long awaited kiss, lips desperately in search of the lost taste of espresso in yours. the bitter sweetness that he misses so hard. his hands grasp around your waist and pull you in closer, tongue running past your lips.

a bold move. all of this. a serious kiss with your ex on the first day of your new job? jungwon knows you like this type of bold.

“so..”, you pull away from the kiss, hands resting behind his neck, “...what now?”

“you still taste sweet,” jungwon lets out a breathy laugh, brushing his thumb against your lower lip, “just like i remember, like your double shot espresso.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “you and your cheesy lines, won. some things never change.”

“some things shouldn’t,” he retorts, his gaze softening. “like us.”

you open your mouth to respond, but the moment is interrupted by the sound of a familiar melody playing from his phone. jungwon grins, pulling back just enough to fish his phone out of his pocket.

“speaking of espresso,” he says with a playful glint in his eyes, “remember our dance nights?”

before you can protest, he’s already hit play, the catchy beat filling the otherwise quiet office. he holds out a hand, eyes twinkling with bliss. “may i have this dance?”

you glance around, ensuring the office is still empty, then take his hand with a resigned sigh. “you're impossible, jungwon. impresaing with dance steps now?”

he pulls you close, swaying to the music. “impossible to resist, you mean.”

you laugh despite yourself, letting him twirl you around the small space. jungwon’s dance moves are as ridiculous yet fabulous as ever, over-exaggerated and comically dramatic, but it’s exactly what you needed. he spins you out and back into his arms, dipping you low as the chorus hits.

“you always did love this song,” you say breathlessly as he pulls you back up.

“because it reminds me of you,” he replies, his expression softening. “strong, bold, unforgettable.”

your heart flutters at his words, and you find yourself leaning into him, the familiar comfort of his presence washing over you. maybe, just maybe, giving him another chance wouldn’t be the worst idea.

as the song ends, jungwon holds you close, his forehead resting against yours once more. “so, what now?”

you smile, feeling a warmth in your chest that you haven’t felt in months. “now, we take it one step at a time.”

“deal,” he agrees, his smile matching yours. “but can we start with that double shot espresso?”

“i'm more of a one shot espresso girl now.”

“one shot, double shot, triple shot, anything to get you back now”, jungwon presses a soft kiss against your lips.

espresso and jungwon will definitely be your favourites in the world, for a long long time.

a/n — omg i had so much fun writing this, i hope i brought out the best meaning of that song through this writing ^^ once again, happy 3k jiah pie,, love ya loads always mwah mwah ><

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

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[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Seven

Steve squints at him, “like, right now? Right this second, you can hear Billy, he’s like, in your head?”

Do you think he’s finally getting it? We’ve been over this like, forty times.

“Yeah. Right now. He’s here.”

“Do you...are you having any urges to hit me over the head with a plate?”

Yes.

“No.”

“Right...and...does anyone else know?”

“Yeah, we told Max, and the little super hero just knew.”

Steve smiles, “right, of course she did.”

Finally.

It’s a lot for anyone to take in, alright? We’ve had ages to get used to it. Give him a minute.

“That’s...you’re talking to him, aren't you? I knew something was up, you get this like, cross eyed look on your face. You’re talking, inside your head?”

“Yeah.”

“I...oh. Can you tell him I’m...I’m really sorry about. Everything. The Mindflayer. I know it wasn’t him in control you know, I don’t blame him for anything,” Steve winces, “shit, he got hit by his own car. Fuck. I’m real sorry, can you tell him-”

“He can hear you. Don’t worry.”

“Right. Okay. Well, I’m sorry.”

I can’t believe he ever had me fooled. King Steve. Pffft what a joke.

Eddie snorts a laugh, “sorry he’s just-”

“Making fun of me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, kind of, sorry.”

I’m not sorry.

They sit quiet for a second, “so you, uhm, you were going to leave because of Billy, right?”

“It’s. I guess it’s a little complicated.”

“Yeah. I can’t imagine Billy Hargrove is interested in watching us mack on each other.”

Don’t you dare.

Eddie sighs, so what can I tell him?

There’s nothing to tell, you bailed, not me.

Because you looked upset.

So? I’m not running the show any more, am I? It’s your life Munson, you should do whatever the fuck you like.

Not if it makes you upset.

“I’ll just...leave you guys to talk?”

Look, it doesn’t fucking matter, alright, you should just...have your happy ever after, or whatever the fuck it is you want.

Steve knows you’re there now...we could. Work something out? Maybe? The three of us?

Billy scoffs. As Steve walks by, Eddie grabs his hand, “just...sit with us a minute, I’m trying to work this out.” Can I at least tell him you like guys? So he knows it’s not that? That that isn’t your problem, I mean?

Fine.

“Billy likes guys and girls, he doesn’t care that we’re both guys.”

“Oh. Oh, that’s...good?”

I should have stayed. The bats were better company than this.

“Yeah, Steve, that’s good.”

They sit in silence for another few seconds.

“I mean, I like you Eddie, and I still want too,” he gestures vaguely, “but I get if it’s weird, you know? And you don’t...want to. Or...I would get it if Billy doesn’t want to? I figured he never really liked me, so I’d understand.”

Billy is suspiciously very silent.

“Why do you think he doesn’t like you?” Don’t you like him?

“Well he was always just...a bit of a prick, really.”

“He’s always a bit of a prick, it’s how he shows affection,” it’s a complete joke, Eddie doesn’t mean it at all, but the moment it’s out of his mouth he’s hit with a realization. Do you like Steve?

Shut up.

“Oh...he’s...I think he was mean to you because he liked you?”

Steve frowns, “what, like pulling my hair and running away? Did he...did he say that?”

“No. He’s being real quiet, and he’s never really quiet so that makes me think I’m right-” Oh my god. Yes. Fine. Happy now? “- I am right. Steve and Billy, sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G-”

Billy sighs, real loud, really put upon. Steve blushes and looks at where Eddie is still holding his fingers.

“So...Billy likes you, and I like you, so are you still game for, you know, giving this thing a try?”

“Only if you’re both...sure?”

“I’m sure. Billy?”

Look, this isn’t up to me, you guys should just-

Eddie sighs, “Billy, come on.”

I- I mean I’m not exactly going to say no, am I? You’re hot. Harrington’s hot. I guess you’re both...okay.

Eddie grins, “you think I’m hot.”

Shut up.

“That’s so weird, you guys are...talking.”

“I can see him sometimes too, when I look in a mirror, he’s there with me. And I could,” Eddie feels himself blush, then fiddles with Steve’s fingers for a distraction, “I could feel it, when he touched me, but we haven't like- that’s only happened once, and it was kind of tingly. I couldn’t tell if it was like, in my head because I could see it or...you know? We haven't worked it out. Might just be my brain playing tricks.”

Steve thinks for a second, frowning, “the mirror in my en suite is a pretty decent size, you want to try?”

“Sure? Billy?”

Fine, whatever, Eddie can almost feel him rolling his eyes.

“Yeah,” Eddie relays.

Steve grins, “cool.”

When Steve leans forward and kisses him, Eddie’s sure he hears Billy rumble a pleased sound.

Part Nine

[clonetrooperjournals]

I hope you are having a great day today! 😊 I am so obsessed with your two fics about stuttering. You portray everything so well! I was wondering if I could request something similar with Tech and someone who struggles with putting sentences together and having smooth conversations. Thank you so much if you feel like it!

Summary : You're a field medic working with the bad batch. while working on your field guide of medicinal herbs and plants you catch the eyes of the batch's resident genius. Pairings : Tech x Fem!reader (Field medic) Warnings : reader has a stutter, fluff, slight angst, cutie tech, happy ending, pre-order 66 (before echo) Words : 1.6k masterlist here A/N : Thank you so much for this request! I was actually half way through writing this when you requested! I hope you love it these stutter reader fics are my favourite to write!

“C-Can you h-help m-me p-please?”  

Tech looks up from his data pad to your burning cheeks and downward gaze with a small smile on his lips, “Of course.”  

You lead him over to a large tree with high branches that had small yellow flowers gently blowing in the breeze, “I-I n-need the... the...,” you point to the flowers.  

“The flowers. How many do you require?” he asks you gently.  

You look up at the tree thinking, “Um... F-Five should b-b-be g-good.”  

Tech throws his grappling hook over the thickest branch and then climbs up to grab a handful of the flowers. He'll never say it out loud, (but it is quite obvious to his brothers) that he enjoys helping you, and having you ask him for help. Even though you are very shy and have a rather hard stutter he finds it quite endearing and adorable.  

At first when you got assigned to Clone force 99 as their field medic, he found your stutter to be quite annoying, believing that you just lacked the mental capacity to form coherent speech, and he told you so. The boys chewed him out for that one telling him that it wasn’t your fault that you talk the way you do and that if he paid close attention, he would see how incredibly intelligent you are. He did pay attention after that, and he did find that you were in fact, incredibly smart.  

You were creating your own medicinal herb kit from the plants and flowers found on the planets they visited and writing a field book on all your findings and how to use them in an emergency. Tech then became intrigued by you and your work, apologizing for his first impression of you. You accepted his apology and told him that before you joined the GAR you were a herb healer on your home planet, and you wanted to expand and share your knowledge which is why you joined the army. It gave you the ability to treat people and being a field medic let you go to different planets and explore the flower and fauna for your medical research.  

Most people thought you were really weird, walking around with your large toolbox you used to collect samples, flowers braided in your hair and your shy stuttering demeanor, you couldn’t really blame them. The batch thought you fit in really well with their crazy dynamic saying they needed a quiet one that wasn’t brooding or grumpy like Hunter and Crosshair.  

The boys also noticed how since Tech has gotten closer to you, he has developed a crush on you. He's become more patient and understanding, always letting you speak without judging or would help you finish your thought. He helped you with your research and would seek you out for quiet company when his brothers were becoming too much. Hunter can sense that you two have feelings for each other and has tried to say this to Tech, but he doesn’t listen, saying it's impossible for someone as perfect as you to like him back.  

“Here you go. Is there anything else in this region that you require for your research?” Tech asks you while giving you the flowers.  

You shake your head, “N-no. J-Just these.” 

He looks at the yellow flowers in your hand, “and what medicinal properties do these flowers have?”  

“T-Thier called s-s-star f-flowers. W-When m-m-mashed into a p-p-paste, i-it can t-t-treat b-burns,” you explain with a smile.  

“Time to go you two!” Hunter yells from the ship. You gather up all your supplies and the two of you head back to the marauder. Once back inside you head to your bunk and lay out all your stuff to make the paste while Tech pilots the ship.  

Hunter and Crosshair sit in their bunks quietly watching you while you do your work. Your used to the boys coming and seeing what you're doing or offering to help. You put the flowers in a small bowl and grab your mashing tool, then mash the flowers until it looks like a bright yellow paste. You dip your finger in to make sure it’s the right consistency and then get up and walk over to Crosshair.  

He raises a brow at you confused as you grab his wrist pulling his blacks back revealing the burn that he was trying to hide from you and gently rub the yellow paste over the burn then wrap it up. If anyone else would have touched Crosshair without his permission, they would have a broken nose, but Crosshair knew you, and knew you did everything with pure innocent intentions.  

He scoffed avoiding your gaze, “no point trying to hide anything from you is there petals?” 

You giggle at the nickname, “t-that's r-r-right.”  

He shows you a rare smile and you pat his shoulder and head back to your bunk. You start to clean out your tool kit, reorganizing the mess you made while you were cataloging, while also sneakily peeking to see if Tech would come and join you. He usually found his way over to you eventually saying that he was the best person to assist you. You smile to yourself thinking about the adorable genius that you’ve come to love, sure he’s straightforward and brutally honest but you’ve come to admire those qualities in him, even if he offends you half the time you know he’s not doing on purpose, it’s just how his wonderful mind works.  

Hunter sees you smiling to yourself and chuckles, “You ever gonna confess to him or do we have to continue watching the two of you pine over each other?”  

Your eyes go wide and cheeks start to burn, “I-I d-don't know what... what y-y-ou're talking ab-bout.”  

“Sure you don’t,” Crosshair crosses his arms looking between you and the cockpit, “apparently the two smartest people on the ship are really the dumbest.” 

“Crosshair...” Hunter warns.  

Tech leaves the cockpit to join the three of you, “Oh! Did you need any assistance with your cataloging? I am momentarily free...”  

“S-Sure Tech.” Hunter grins at you heading to cockpit with Wrecker while Crosshair lies in his bunk looking at his bandaged wrist with a soft look.  

... 

Currently you and the batch were on Raydonia, a forested planet in the outer rim near Dathomir. Something was malfunctioning on the ship and Tech had to land so he could repair it before you all headed back to Kamino. You had heard about the trees on this planet that had blue glowing fruit, and you had to collect some. Tech and Wrecker were working on the ship while Hunter and Crosshair went to check out the settlement and you figured you could sneak away to collect some of the fruits before anyone realized you were gone. So, you grabbed your supplies and headed into the forest by the ship staying within view so you don't get lost.  

 You find a tall tree with large fruits that would be perfect for your studies. After trying to shake the fruits from the tree with no success you decided to climb it, thinking you could just slide down the tree afterwards. However, once you were in the tree with a handful of the fruits you realized that you couldn’t get down without dropping and squishing them and it was in this moment that Tech jogged over slightly frazzled. 

“What have we told you about going off on your own?”  

You blushed, “S-Sorry T-Tech... I w-was j-j-just...” 

He sighed, “yes you were trying to collect the fruit but next time inform one of us so that we can assist you and more importantly keep you safe.”  

“O-Okay.” You glanced down at Tech with a warm rosy cheeked smile, making his heart flutter. 

“Can I assist you?” he asks gently.  

You nod, “T-Take the... f-fruit p-p-please.” Then you throw the glowing fruit down, Tech catching them with ease. He puts them in your toolbox and turns back to you as you start to climb down the tree. Except what should be a simple slide down the tree doesn’t happen when instead, your foot gets caught on a lower branch and you fumble, falling hard and fast towards the ground. You close your eyes expecting a hard landing but instead you feel warm arms and hard plastoid envelope you as Tech catches you bridal style before you can hit the ground.  

“That was close.” He says looking you over to make sure you were okay. You were frozen in his arms blushing uncontrollably as Tech admires how beautiful you are. The red of your cheeks, the small pink flowers you braided into your hair, and your favourite coveralls that you hand embroidered with colourful flowers, you looked like a walking garden, kriff he was so in love with you.  

You put your feet down, but Tech doesn’t let you go still holding your arms, “T-Thank... you T-Tech.”  

“Forgive me but I have to speak my mind about something I-,” he brushes a stray hair behind your ear, “I have developed feelings for you.” 

 Your eyes widen in surprise, “w-what!?”  

“I-I’m quite in l-love with you...” he admits nervously, his cheeks just as bright as yours. 

You smile at him giggling, “y-you’re s-stuttering.” 

He laughs, “I-I am, aren’t I...”  

You put a hand on his cheek feeling the burning blush under your fingers, “I-I love... you t-t-too.” 

“May I... kiss you?” he asks timidly.  

Leaning in you feel his breath mix with yours, “y-yes please.”  

The kiss is gentle and shy just like the both of you, and as you pull away you see his eyes twinkle under his goggles.  

“Finally! I thought we’d have to wait at least another 200 rotations before they said anything.” 

Tech sighs, “Crosshair!” 

You laugh and grab his hand, “L-Lets go... f-finish the sh-ship.” 

He leans in and kisses your cheek, “Good idea my dear.”  

[rainybubbles]

What are COD men and women missions as your guardian angel ?

Ghost, Price, Soap, Gaz, Laswell, Farah, Valeria, Alejandro, König, Roach, Nikolai

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC.)

G H O S T :

-He was sent to prevent you from accepting a job opportunity that would lead to your death. 

-The prospective boss was destined to be tyrannical, pushing you to overwork, neglect your health, sever ties with loved ones, and gradually spiral into a state of despair. 

-Ultimately, exhaustion would compel you to cross a road, only to be struck by a truck. 

-Simon's purpose was to avert this tragic fate.

-Simon exerted considerable effort attempting to erase all traces of the job offers and announcements from your computer, eager to fulfill his mission swiftly. 

-However, you persisted in pursuing your dream job, repeatedly defying his interventions. 

-”Fucking hell” he whispered one night after passing hours on Indeed to delete everything.

-He realized he had to convince you. But it means getting to know you. 

-He sighed and moved in, thanks to his power, the flat next to yours was magically free.

-Despite his strategic move, Simon struggled with social interactions. 

- He tried the “have you any sugar ?” but it was 1AM, so it scared you.

-God, Simon and his social skills.

- One day, you, alarmed by a peculiar noise, knocked on his door, convinced that an intruder had breached your home. 

-Trusting Simon's intimidating presence to scare off anyone, you spent the night at his flat for reassurance. 

-This incident marked the beginning of a gradual acquaintance.

-As Simon got to know you, a mutual exchange of pastries became a regular occurrence. You started it to thank him for that night, and he offered you ones, and it has became a regular thing.

- Friday nights turned into joint activities like watching matches or cooking together. 

-During these moments, you opened up about your dream job, and Simon, in turn, disclosed the harsh realities about the company.

-The realization dawned upon him as he witnessed the trust you placed in him.

- When you decided not to pursue the ominous job, he felt a sense of joy until the weight of the truth settled in—his mission was complete. 

-Simon waited in anticipation for the next assignment.

-He waited.

-Days

-For another name, another mission.

-Nothing came.

-And he saw Laswell.

-He knew what it meant.

-“Simon, they decide you can either continue as an angel or stay with her and become human”Laswell says.

-Being with you.

-Waking up with you, living a life with you…

-It sounded perfect.

-He didn’t deserve that. Not after all what he had done, not…him with you, you deserved better.

-The following morning, you knocked on his door, only to find the flat deserted.

- Frantically searching for Simon Riley on social media, you discovered an unsettling absence—like a ghost, he had vanished, leaving you with a broken heart.

-“He fucking ghost me”, you cried on the floor of your flat, not knowing the truth.

P R I C E :

-He had not been sent for you, but for a boy named Clark. 

-Clark was on the verge of homelessness, and John's mission was to help him develop an idea to secure some much-needed money.

-As John succeeded in his task, he couldn't help but notice the negative transformation in Clark.

- The influx of money had turned Clark into a selfish person, threatening his friends if they considered leaving him. And that's how he encountered you—a kind soul who had been there for Clark since the beginning.

-You, always supportive, witnessed how toxic Clark had become towards you.

- Slowly, you began to believe you deserved such treatment, unable to find better friends. 

-John, disturbed by this realization, hoped for another mission to rescue Clark's friend from the clutches of his destructive behavior.

-But nothing changed.

-Frustrated, John couldn't stand idly by while people suffered for the sake of his mission. 

-His purpose was to rectify injustice, not allow someone to turn into a despicable person.

-During a party, he found you outside and couldn't help but express his thoughts

- "I'm glad you're in his life. He's so much better now. He was really broke, and I was scared he'd end up alone on the streets. He lived at my house for a long time." you said.

-"He should have end up in the streets," Price asserted without regret.

-Your eyes widened, but a chuckle escaped you. "You shouldn't say that."

-"But you agree.

-”Money got to his head, but he's a good guy."

-"He's not, and you know it, love."

-"I don't want to lose him. I love him." you admitted.

-And then it clicked. You loved Clark before he became the person he was now.

-"You loved him before all of this." he realized.

-"I know. And it hurts because I still hold onto the hope that he'll realize and suddenly become better."

-"I'm sorry." Price said.

-"It's not your fault."

-It was, but you couldn't know.

-"Maybe in another life, I'll be as happy as he seems to be?"

-Price could have read your life with his power and gotten to know your future. But he didn’t.

-"I hope you deserve it." he answered.

-"Hey John, if I'm not happy, could I count on you? You're always here for me."

-"I promise, love."

-You smiled.

-Later, when John received his new mission, he decided to peek into your future to protect you one last time—only to realize there was no future.

-He rushed to your flat.

-The police were there.

-Clark had been arrested.

-And a body was being taken to the morgue.

-Maybe he should have looked at your future earlier.

S O A P

-He had been dispatched to safeguard your moral values from crumbling into ruin. 

-The situation was straightforward; you were shattered, and a friend of yours suggested a lucrative opportunity to intimidate someone for a hefty sum. 

-In simpler terms, you were on the verge of joining a gang for the sake of money. 

-Broke, homeless, unwilling to burden your family, and unable to afford food, you were desperate enough to consider anything that paid, given the absence of job offers.

-Soap's mission was to avert this downward spiral, to prevent you from evolving into a heartless figure with bloodstained hands, a potential mafia leader. 

-Naturally, he couldn't just hand you money; you wouldn't accept it from a stranger. So, he devised a plan to hire you at his bakery.

-Initially taken aback, because hell you couldn’t even say or bake croissant. 

-Nevertheless, your role was strictly to sell, not to bake. 

-Moreover, your boss, Soap, emanated a comforting presence. 

-He treated you kindly, just as he did with everyone on his missions

-But to him, your smile was more than just a pleasant sight; it stirred something within him.

-Your laughter, dry and infrequent, motivated him to ensure you laughed more often, even if it meant he made a fool of himself with sugar or butter.

-When your friend said you couldn’t stay at their place, Soap went a step further and provided you with one.

- As you began accumulating enough funds to secure a flat, you encountered difficulties in finding one. 

-Leveraging his magical abilities, Soap helped locate a suitable residence for you. 

-Once settled, he taught you the art of baking, gradually helping you to take charge of the bakery.

-A year later, you had become a skilled baker, and Soap realized his mission was accomplished. 

-Independent and content, you were ready to take over the bakery. 

-Craftily, he fabricated a story about relocating to another country and passing the bakery on to you. 

-Initially hesitant, you eventually agreed after lengthy discussions.

-As Soap sensed the emergence of a new name and mission on the paper, he looked at you and sighed, "I'll miss you, love."

-"Me too, Johnny," you replied.

-Little did you know it was the final time you would see him, but Soap was acutely aware.

- So, for the first time, he allowed himself to act on impulse and kissed you. In that fleeting moment, he wished he could relinquish his wings and live with you indefinitely.

G A Z :

-TW : social anxiety :) !

-He was sent to help you with your health.

-You grappled with social anxiety, a condition so severe that the fact of being in a crowded bus could make you faint

- Asking for a bag at the cashier's counter filled you with fear, and even a simple "hello" caused three weeks of overthinking

- You existed in a state of solitude, ensnared within a relentless cycle of anxiety.

- Your mental health had plummeted, yet the luxury of a therapist was beyond your means.

-Social anxiety, insidiously, severs connections, making it difficult to seek help, leaving you trapped in an endless loop of overthinking. 

-The act of breathing itself became a struggle

-Walking in the streets became a nightmare, convinced that every passerby scrutinized your every move. Life, for you, felt burdensome, your very existence a weight upon others.

-Enter Gaz, sent to prevent you from venturing too close to the precipice. 

-He initiated contact through social media, engaging you in conversation within a fandom you both shared.

- He witnessed the genuine joy in your smiles as you responded to his messages, the relief emanating from having notifications from a real person rather than an automated system.

- Talking to him felt right, providing a respite from the isolation.

-Gradually, your interactions with Gaz progressed beyond the digital realm.

- Attempts to meet in person were met with reluctance or last-minute cancellations, fueled by fears of judgment, rejection, or even the possibility of an elaborate prank. 

-However, perseverance prevailed, and one day, he succeeded in meeting you face-to-face.

-The anxiety lingered, but Gaz's warmth created a sanctuary, a safe space for you.

- Together, you confronted the formidable adversary that was social anxiety.

-Gaz became your anchor during the lows, comforting you when crowds induced panic or tears flowed at the thought of being among people.

-Of course there were downs, where you couldn’t go out, where you would cry just by the idea of being in a crowd. But he was here for you.

-Every Monday, he accompanied you through bustling streets, holding your hand as you breathed through the anxiety. 

-Small victories were celebrated, such as summoning the courage to ask for water from a waiter. 

-To some, these achievements may seem ridiculous, but Gaz understood the immense courage they required.

-He cherished the moments you shared, the progress you made—ordering food by phone, making a call—each step a triumph on the arduous road of overcoming social anxiety.

- In these moments, Gaz recognized that this was more than a mere mission; it was a lifelong commitment. 

-Social anxiety was not a battle with a finite resolution; rather, it was a continuous struggle.

-A knowing chuckle escaped him. 

-Captain Price, knowingly, had bestowed upon Gaz a life mission. 

-In a quiet moment, Gaz whispered his gratitude, acknowledging that if his mission was to love and support you, there was no doubt he would embrace it for eternity.

V A L E R I A :

-She was sent to save your marriage.

- Angels, renowned for their influence on matters of the heart, and Valeria, in particular, was on a divine mission to salvage the threads that held your union together. 

-However, as of late, doubt began to creep into her convictions as a guardian angel.

-In numerous assignments, she found herself helping individuals of questionable character.

- Then, she met you—a person ensnared in a wretched marriage. 

- Your wife treated you poorly, arguing with you for trivial matters, asserting your worthlessness without her, forgetting your birthday and engaging in infidelity with others.

-Valeria questioned the purpose of preserving such a toxic bond.

- Was she supposed to save this tormented marriage?

- Was the sanctity of matrimony so sacred that it should endure despite the evident misery it caused?

-No, she had enough..

- She reached a breaking point, disenchanted with being the obedient savior in every situation. 

-She wasn't Rudy or Alejandro—she wouldn't blindly adhere to a mission that clashed with her newfound convictions. 

-Instead, she took a daring step and seduced you, believing you deserved better, deserving her.

-You, with your kindness and generosity, deserved someone who would treat you with the respect and love you lacked in your current relationship. 

-Valeria refused to surrender you to the shackles of your miserable marriage.

- She cared not for the rules of her celestial role; she wasn't a guardian angel any longer. 

-That night, driven by an irrepressible desire for change, she made a drastic choice—she cut off her wings. 

-The pain was excruciating, but amidst the agony, she found relief and liberation.

- She knew this act condemned her to damnation, but the prospect of being with you made it inconsequential.

- Morality blurred into shades of gray as she willingly became a fallen angel, abandoning her celestial duties for the ecstasy of earthly love.

- The sensation of your lips against hers eclipsed any impending punishment, and in that moment, she embraced the fall from grace for the happiness she found in your arms.

N I K O L A I :

-He was the one training guardian angels. 

-Nikolai wasn't a guardian angel, but a fallen one. 

-In the past, he had fallen in love with the one he was supposed to guard.

- As a consequence, they severed one of his wings and stripped him of his celestial status. 

-To prove his devotion, Nik decided to assist in the formation of guardian angels.

- Laswell and Price supported him, and they agreed.

-So, he began training new guardian angels, and you happened to be one of them.

- He admired how you struggled to fly, resembling a fawn. 

-"Солнце (=sun), use your back muscles, not your arms," he teased as you tumbled to the ground once again. 

-"How could you know?" you snapped back, frustrated.

-He stopped, his lone wing retracting. 

-You realized the impact of your words.

- "Shit, Nik, sorry, that's not what I meant."

-"It's okay, but I used to fly in the past, you know. Don't doubt my abilities again."

-"Of course, I... It's just frustrating to see everyone else succeeding."

"-It's okay. Ghost took six months to fly; Soap burned his wing three times," Nikolai said. "So, don't doubt, Солнце."

-"Really?" you laughed.

-"Yes, so don't doubt, Солнце."

-"Isn't it difficult to watch all those angels and not feel free like them?" you asked, a question no one had posed to him before.

-"It is, but I deserved it."

-"You just loved someone. I don't think it was worth the punishment," you whispered.

-"Maybe, but I betrayed my mission."

-"I still think you did it for good reasons. The world isn't black and white. Sometimes we have to be gray. Loving them, it's not a crime."

-He stayed silent. "Maybe."

-"Sorry, I overstepped, but I think it's unfair they treat you like this. Graves is keeping his wings when he had killed people to succeed in his missions, not very guardian angel of him."

-"You're right, but we can't do anything."

-"I will. I'll fight for you. Use my wings to give yours back," you said, determined.

-That day, Nik felt a spark—the same one that had cost him his wings. 

-The one who was back with you. 

-He ignored it. 

-"If you say so, I'll watch you doing it," he chuckled.

-Little did he know, you would succeed and restore his wings. 

-Perhaps, one day, Nikolai would fly again with his wings and not a helicopter.

A L E J A N D R O :

-He was sent to protect you, to help you to expose the truth.

-You, a journalist delving into a precarious story surrounding the cartel's sway

-. Alejandro understood the gravity of this mission; his entire previous life had been defined by this relentless fight against the cartel.

- With unwavering dedication, he vowed to shield you with all his heart.

-Thus, he concealed himself, surveilling your residence, neutralizing all dangers, confronting cartel members seeking to harm you under the cover of darkness.

- His magic thwarted explosive threats, and he meticulously tarnished the reputations of those aiming to intimidate you after your initial article.

- He stood watch, silently guarding you.

-His cover was blown one day. In your apartment, a cartel member lay unconscious at his feet.

-"So it was you?" you inquired.

-"I can explain," he stammered.

-"You were the one protecting me, weren't you? I've never felt threatened since my colleagues shared their ordeals. Only words, never physical harm or bombs. My family is unharmed. Someone protected me. It's you, isn't it?"

-Your perceptiveness impressed him.

-"Yes," he admitted.

-"You should have said something. I can pay you if needed. Being a bodyguard for someone who challenges cartels must be challenging."

-"Not as challenging as being a colonel fighting the cartel in my previous life," he thought but refrained from saying.

-"It's okay. I don't need a salary."

-"Then live with me. Let me repay you, in a way. This way, you can keep an eye on me 24/7 but still have a place to stay."

-It was tempting, avoiding the need to surveil you from across the street, being able to follow you closely to prevent traps.

-"Okay," he accepted.

-Gradually, he became a fixture in your life. You shared your findings, and he assisted during investigations, often necessitating clandestine break-ins to gather information. 

-He marveled at how you managed to stay alive with your audacious pursuits.

-But with each cartel member arrested due to your articles, he felt satisfaction and pride. You were making a difference.

-Until one day, the absence of the familiar sound of typing alarmed him. 

-Racing to your room, he found you lifeless, a bullet wound in your head. 

-How was this possible? He had used his magic for protective measures, installed cameras.

- Then he noticed it—a black wing on the floor, a fallen angel turned malevolent.

-He knew who was responsible—Valeria. Of course, she would be entangled in the sinister web of cartels. Mierda...

L A S S W E L L :

--She was sent to ensure peace.

-You, a fledgling diplomat, had just entered the scene.

-In a matter of months, a critical meeting loomed on the horizon. 

-Unfortunately, one of the other ambassadors harbored nefarious plans. 

-Their aim? To ensnare you, hold your country responsible for an attack, derail any alliance, shatter hopes of peace, and plunge nations into war.

-Laswell, tasked with preventing this diplomatic catastrophe, sought to guide you through the treacherous world of international relations.

-Gaining your trust, however, proved to be a formidable challenge.

-You toiled in isolation, reluctant to confide even in an assistant. 

-Acutely aware of the sordid nature of politics, you had no intention of succumbing to manipulation or falling prey to powerful lobby interests.

-To demonstrate her capabilities, Laswell embarked on a mission to help you confront a corrupt mayor. 

-When she successfully ousted him and exposed the truth, despite the mayor's pervasive connections, you were compelled to extend a job offer.

-"Thanks for this. I couldn't have done it without you. He had connections everywhere," you expressed your gratitude.

-"I have connections too, but I guess mine are just better than his," she replied with a hint of confidence.

-A chuckle escaped your lips.

-It was evident that Laswell, fueled by a genuine commitment to peace, would prevail. 

-Witnessing the purity of your heart, she found solace.

- She had observed how the hearts of political figures often tarnished when power came into play, but you remained an exception.

-"You're a remarkable diplomat, never doubt that," she reassured.

-"Maybe, but niceties don't seal alliances or foster peace," you sighed. "Money does, and we don't have it."

-Together, you delved into the intricacies of contracts and gathered information about other nations.

- Nights were spent in your office, surrounded by take-out containers, punctuated by jokes that lightened the mood while maintaining a serious focus on work.

-Gradually, Laswell began to open up to you. 

-Of course, she concealed her past as a CIA agent, weaving a narrative that shielded her secrets. Yet, you felt a sense of security in her presence.

-One evening during a break, you asked,

-"Do you have someone, Kate? You're always here with me, and I wouldn't want your significant other to worry."

-"I had someone," she admitted.

-"Sorry to hear that," you responded.

-"It's okay. It was a long time ago, like a previous life," she joked, though the truth lingered beneath the surface.

-"How were they?" you inquired.

-"She, and she was wonderful. My wife. I could have given everything to her, except I didn't. I didn't give her my time. I was working too hard."

-"Did you divorce?" you asked.

-"No, but I quitted my job for her."

-"Oh."

-"It was the right thing to do. She deserved it," she smiled.

-"And you never met anyone after?"

-"No.”

-Because after that, she died old and happy with her wife, before becoming a guardian angel.

-She never looked for love.

-"No, but maybe someday." Laswell said

-"I don't doubt it," you chuckled.

-"And you?"

-"I'm too busy with my work. They say I'm mostly married to it," you attempted to joke, but Kate sensed the underlying sadness.

-"You'll meet someone. You're a great person."

-"Thanks," you replied, returning to your work. 

-After weeks of collaboration, Kate unearthed a drug affair involving the other diplomat and dealt with it discreetly.

-On the day of the crucial meeting, the peace offer was accepted without hesitation, thanks to the covert threat.

- The treaties were signed, and a sigh of relief echoed through the diplomatic corridors.

-However, when Laswell awaited her next mission, she discovered a surprise.

-Your name resurfaced, but the mission had taken an unexpected turn.

-"Marry them."

-Confused, Laswell pondered the note. Guardian angels can't love humans. Then, she noticed a message on the back.

-"You deserve a retreat, Kate. And they're your type. Enjoy it. - John."

-She chuckled. John, always meddling where he wasn't needed.

- However, she didn’t know if she would marry you or not but this life as a diplomat, reshaping the world for the better, was the love she had found."

F A R A H :

-She had been sent to infuse you with the strength to confront adversity with courage and resilience.

- Once a firefighter, you had walked away from the profession after a tragic incident where a child lost his life in a fire. 

-Your attempts to alert your boss about the suspicious nature of the recent fires fell on deaf ears, and disillusioned, you resigned. 

-The question lingered: Why be a firefighter if you couldn't save lives?

-Farah had been dispatched to restore your inner fortitude because, deep down, you were right

-Those recent fires were no accidents. 

-Only you had the power to uncover the truth, having been the sole observer of the pattern.

- Fate placed her as your neighbor, but your demeanor was reticent, a mere husk of your former self.

-Observing your silent suffering, Farah chose a bold approach. 

-She ignited a fire in her own apartment using a toaster, triggering your instincts. 

-Without hesitation, you rushed to her aid with a fire extinguisher, quelling the flames.

-"Thanks, I don't know what happened," she lied, keenly observing the adrenaline coursing through your veins and the relief in your eyes.

-"It's okay; toasters can be tricky, many of them catch fire," you reassured her.

-"Do you often see that?" she inquired.

-"I'm a firefighter," you paused, correcting yourself, "was, sorry."

-She smiled, finding solace in your continued identification with the role.

-"You quit? Injuries?" she probed.

-"No, I... it just wasn't for me."

-"It doesn't seem that way," she said, nodding towards the fire extinguisher still in your grasp.

-"It was just a reflex."

-"Hmm, if you say so. You know, just because there are some bad firefighters doesn't mean you have to quit," she remarked.

-"True, but sometimes it's hard to... fight when you're alone."

-She understood. Without the support of people in her past as Karim, Farah would never have succeeded. 

-"But without brave people like you, the bad ones win," she emphasized.

-"Maybe," you conceded, "but... why am I discussing this with you? I don't even know you," you whispered.

-"It's easier to confess to a stranger, especially one with a burnt toaster," she joked.

-You chuckled, finding an unexpected comfort in her presence.

-"Maybe you're right. I just... I felt useless. I knew something was wrong with those fires, that we should have saved those kids, but... no one believed me. Maybe they're right."

-"Or maybe not. Now we'll never know since you quit," she countered.

"-Maybe..." you sighed.

-"I can help you," she offered.

-"How?" you inquired.

-"I'm a journalist," she lied, "if those fires are really peculiar, then I have a great article, and you could regain your job."

-"…But it means investigating my own brigade."

-"Betrayal often comes from those close to us," she said, recalling what did Hadir.

-"You're right, okay," you agreed.

-And so, the investigation began. Farah watched as the embers of your internal fire reignited. You didn't give up. 

-Gathering evidence, taking photographs, you uncovered a shocking revelation: a colleague was a pyromaniac, deliberately setting fires to play the role of a savior, to feel godlike.

-Presenting the proof to journalists, your chief could no longer cover for the rogue colleague. Farah felt a surge of pride for you.

-"You fought well," she commended.

-"I'll continue, thanks, Farah," you said, embracing her, the lingering scent of burnt still on your clothes after your mission.

-"Never give up, even when I'm gone," she whispered.

-"Never," you smiled.

-When her mission changed, she left you a collar. Months later, Farah noticed how you kept it as a talisman.

- She smiled, realizing that although she couldn't stay, your strength and hers would forever be intertwined.

K Ö N I G :

-He had been sent to rekindle your passion, to bring happiness back into your life. 

-Once a talented dancer, you had abandoned your love for dance in favor of a more practical career, burdened by financial responsibilities. 

-Your parents, disapproving of a dancing career, further added to the weight on your shoulders.

-König, however, was on a mission to reignite your love for your hobby and give your heart what it truly desired.

- So, in your building, he discreetly posted a classified ad seeking a dance teacher for the waltz.

-When you stumbled upon the ad, you thought, "Why not?"

-A little extra income wouldn't hurt, and you missed the joy of dancing. Intrigued, you decided to respond to his ad, accepting his offer.

-Little did König anticipate that it would work. 

-Now, with his towering 2-meter frame, he found himself awkwardly attempting to move like a swan without crushing your feet. The stress was palpable.

-“Breathe and focus on me, not on yourself,” you instructed, guiding his hands to rest on your waist. 

-Slowly, with the accompaniment of a piano, you led him through the graceful movements of the waltz.

-Suddenly, it felt like home. Memories flooded back – the aroma of onions and Zwiebelrostbraten cooking, the cramped kitchen adorned with peculiar pictures, his mother's gentle dance, and him on her feet as she attempted to teach him how to dance. 

-Dancing, he thought, could be so beautiful, and those who tried to prevent such feelings were truly awful.

-You noticed the sparkle in König's eyes, a reflection of the passion you had years ago.

- “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you remarked.

-“Yes, it’s like we’re floating,” he responded.

-“Waltz is beautiful. I…I wanted to compete when I was younger – waltz, salsa, and more.”

-“What stopped you?”

-“My parents. They said I would never be good enough to make a living from it. And they're right; only a few dancers can sustain themselves.”

-“But you could still live through it in a different way.”

-“How?”

-“Teaching it. Many dancers become teachers.”

-“I don’t have connections, König. Studios prefer people with a reputation.”

-“Then I’ll spread the word. You’re a great teacher. I mean, you made me dance the waltz, and I'm a giant,” he joked.

-You smiled. “Because you’re a great student.”

-“Nein, believe me, I can’t dance without you.”

-And so, König set his plans into motion, praising your classes to everyone. 

-Soon, a married couple sought your expertise, and as their marriage flourished, the word spread. 

-Requests poured in, and slowly you amassed a following.

-König, with his mysterious charm, helped you secure a studio.

- Although you maintained your part-time job, you now knew you could live from dance.

-“I’ll quit,” you whispered, nervous. “I need to quit to have more classes and finally be happy.”

-“Good, you deserve it,” he smiled.

-“Thanks. Without you, I probably would never have been brave enough to do it.”

-“I’m here to support you,” he assured, even though he missed holding you in his arms and waltzing with you.

-He asked for one last dance to celebrate. Unbeknownst to you, he would soon leave.

-As you danced, he felt your heart beating fast, resonating with happiness. 

-When a paper appeared in his pocket with another name and another mission, he looked back at you. 

-Perhaps now, when alone, König would practice the waltz for the day he would meet you again.

R O A C H :

 

TW : death (not of Roach or you though) + (i kinda create a past for him, I know it's not canon)

-He was sent to help you to protect Orion.

-The problem was, he had no clue who Orion was.

- Despite attempting to tap into his powers, all he could extract were names: Orion and yours. 

-Thus, he met you out and forged a close friendship, yet Orion remained elusive.

- Not in your familial ties, not as a romantic interest or enemies—nowhere. 

-Until one day, after returning from work, you shared an anecdote about Orion.

-Orion.

- A four-year-old boy. 

-Suddenly, it dawned on him; he comprehended his purpose

-. Roach, with his own history in foster care, knew he was selected because he understood the flaws in the system and how one could make a difference by adopting a child.

- However, Orion had loving parents, leaving Roach perplexed.

-"He's a sweet boy," you smiled.

-He reciprocated with a smile, albeit tinged with fear. 

-Did this mean Orion would lose his parents? 

-Or was he expected to kill them? 

-Roach was uncertain, prompting him to shadow Orion's residence, using his expertise in navigating air ducts, he was not called  Roach for nothing, air ducts were his things.

-As he observed, nothing seemed amiss until he spotted it: a crack in the wall. 

- Regrettably, before he could extricate himself from the air duct, the building collapsed. 

-The landlords had ignored warnings about the need for renovations, leading to the tragedy. 

-Roach barely escaped the ruins, coughing and trying to find his way out.

-Then, he heard Orion's voice. 

-Under a table, the little boy clutched his deceased mother's hand. 

-Roach froze; there was no doubt, Orion's parents were gone. 

-Why was he sent to manage this? 

- Why wasn't he tasked with preventing the tragedy or saving them?

- Why did Orion have to endure such a harrowing experience?

-He crawled to Orion, embracing him as the boy cried and screamed. 

-He waited with him at ER, refusing to leave despite your attempts to reach him. He only sent you a text “at ER”

-You joined him and he…he could only express his pain through a silent hug.

-You and Roach became determined to ensure Orion wouldn't be left in the system after such trauma.

- Despite the challenges, you visited every day, dealing with bureaucracy and, with Roach's magical assistance, eventually adopting Orion

-. Roach didn't leave; he remained a steadfast companion in your collective journey.

-It wasn't easy—Orion was confused, lost, and traumatized. 

-Yet, through your unwavering support, he slowly began to open up to both you and Roach.

- A family emerged, something Roach had only discovered in his twenties during his time in the military.

- He was grateful that Orion could experience it now, but he couldn't bring himself to leave.

-Each day brought the fear of a new mission, a new departure. Until one day, Ghost appeared in your flat.

-"What are you doing here?" Roach questioned.

-"Cutting your wings," Ghost responded.

-Roach recoiled. "I never kissed them." he said, yes he loved you, but he never tried…

-"Roach…"

-"You can't take them away from me, please L.T. I don't want to lose everyone like I lost you and the unit."

-"I’ll cut your wings so you can become human, Roach, not to punish you."

-Roach halted. "You—"

-"You deserve it."

-"Thanks, L.T."

-"You're welcome," Ghost whispered, cutting his wings.

-Roach felt pain but also a strange sense of freedom. He smiled at Ghost and let him leave. Finally, he had found a family.

_____

_If you want more : my COD masterlist

_My masterlist

[moonschocolate]

Headcanons about my current hyperfixation: THEOO!!☆

I keep stalking the 'theodore nott headcanons' tag so I might as well write my own headcanons about him

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

this man has social anxiety. prove me wrong.

when he was younger he found comfort in reading fiction books, like pjo

he 100% had an obsession with greek mythology, or mythology in general, and it's still kinda there but not like before

then growing up he got into classics

like one day he was like 'what if I read a Dostoevskij book' and that's where it all started

he prefers reading this kind of books because they teach you more

tallest boy you've ever seen, somewhat taller (only by few centimeteres) than Fred and George

he plays the cello, like kind of, he knows how to play a piece only studying it, i believe this man was never able to play a piece at first sight

surprisingly (to him) he really has a lot of things in common with Luna, when he found out he wanted to spend more time with her

he's really silent, but GOD does he ever stop thinking?? his head is loud af

enjoys being with his friends, they're used to him not shouting in their ears (unlike some other boy *cough cough* Mattheo *cough cough ... cough*)and he enjoys their company and they do too

not the type of boy to run to Spotify or whatever music app whenever he can, but he enjoys some kind of music (mostly smooth piano jazz, dramatic classical music since it's my fav, and he thinks TV girl, Lamp, Ichiko Aoba are cool)

never replies quickly, he's always late replying cuz thinks being on his phone is a complete waste of time, but it's not like he's NEVER on it

chill with Halloween but feral over Christmas (does not show it)

legos. I've said all.

YOU CANNOT TELL ME THIS MAN DOESNT HAVE HIS ROOM FULL OF STAR WARS SETS

despite enjoying english and all that kind of subjects, he is feral, and when I say feral I mean feral over maths. He loves learing new concepts because then it all makes sense and it's just so cool (explained from a person who is also feral over maths, pls tell me you get what i mean)

hyperfixations? oh so many

again, greek mythology

you could tell this man "Hey do you know about the myth of Apolloand Daphne" his eyes would light up and he would tell you the myth, his opinion, and related myths ("there's also this other myht with Apollo where he-")

A S T R O L O G Y

still greek mythology related but

he could stay hours talking about constellations

"hey do you know the myth behind the gemini constellation? No? Can I tell you about it?! Okay so-"

paper stars.

if there's a paper stripe around he'd grab it and make a paper star out of it

looks like the typa guy who'd take a lot of pictures with a canon/sony camera

when he feels anxious he'd do this thing where (get ready for the worst explanation ever) he'd put one of his nails of the right hand in between the skin and the nail of his thumb on his left hand and make the nail go left and right, still in between the skin and the nail (I ALWAYS DO THAT I HOPE IT MAKES SENSE I TRIED TO BE AS SPECIFIC AS I COULD)

He tried to go to a party since Blaise, Draco, Enzo, Theo, Pansy (basically everyone you get it)... begged him to come along

we could sum up his experience in one word

NIGHTMARE

The music was too loud, the people were to close to him, everyone was shouting, there were alcohol and drugs (he still wonders how they got literal drugs into the castle), everyone tried to dance with him and talk to him, that time he got overwhelmed tried to leave, but they were all like 'heyyyy nooo dont leaveeeee stay hereeeeee' but his friends understood it wasn't for him and Blaise went with him to his dorm, waited until he felt better then went back to the party

has never been to a party since then

smart af

like he easily surpasses draco and mione

also theo and mione are really close friends, one time they found eachother in the library reading the same book and chatting they found out they have several things in common

has a collection of stylographs, that stays in his library neatly ordinated

best sense of style (he obv got it from Blaise but he made it better)

he loves movies, he's watched movies like Dead Poets Society, Dorian Gray, but also movies about historical facts like The Darkest Hour, The King's Speech, Hidden Figures, The Pianist (I'm a sucker for this kind of movies honestly)

!! HE HAS DIMPLES !!

He loves professor Lupin, he thinks of him as Keating is dps

secretly listens to Micheal Bublè in Christmas, he loves his Christmas songs

he only buys old books, never new ones, he thinks that already used books, from decades ago, he thinks they hold stories, and it's even better when the books have annotations, maybe he'll erase them, but it's good to hear other's opinions

has a lot of vynils

used to study for his dad, now this became a habit, that's why he's the best in class

his relationship with his mom is not strong, MORE

When his mom died he was 5 so he didn't understand

when he finally knew the truth he cried for weeks, then he would occasionally go out to look at the stars, which he always admired with his mom, and cried thinking about her, thinking that she was watching him from up there

when he was like 10 he didn't cry no more, only if he ever opened up

he shared anything with her

he NEVER let ANYONE call him Teddy, he always though that is what his mom called him, and he didn't want other people to 'interfere' with that, he feels like it's their thing

despises horror movies. gets scared to death watching them, and doesnt find the lore interesting

never walks around with only socks on, has the fear of walking on water accidentally and getting his feet wet and the feeling disgustes him

also, has the whole collection of pjo books (every book. from percy jackson and the olympians to the chalice of the gods)

loves cats so much, he has two cats, but he wishes he had more

he has male brown cat named Monet and a grey cat with some beige spots and green eyes (it's mt bsf's cat, I love her - the cat - and I thought she could be a honourable mention) named Vivienne

defo has an obsession with sharks, but is even more obsessed with jellyfish, he knows a lot of scientific names for their species, for exmample Phylloriza Punctata, or Chrisaora Quinquecirrha, or Aurelia Aurelita, he's obsessed

Fav subject isn't potions, it's astronomy instead

since i live for loser!Theo, im in love with the idea of him stuttering in front of a guy/girl he finds cute or attractive, blushing and being awkward

my man absolutely doesn't know how to talk, he speaks too fast, and when ppl tell him to slow down, then he thinks he's talking too slow

if anyone fatshames any of his friends, or is racist/homophobic towards them, or just insults them, he will try to avoid throwing punches, but lets say he'll exchange a word or two with that person

if he's itchy, he scratches so hard there could be blood (a bit exaggerated but you get it)

could've been a Ravenclaw, but if he did his father would be really mad at him, so he's happy he isn't

another headcanon that I kindly stole rn from @heirofs1ytherin is that he's into poetry. LIKE 100% ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ You probably got that I love him HES MY BABY

[hwangswhore]

•B A C K S T A G E•

pairing: hyunjin x f!reader

genre: smut (mdni‼️)

desc: after not seeing you for months due to touring, hyunjin finally gets to have his way with you when you show up to the final show in seoul.

content: established relationship, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected piv (pls be safe), dirty talking, pet names, risky public sex, idk I think that’s it ?

auth. note: requested by my friend ;) enjoy !

-

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Hyunjin was frustrated.

Sexually frustrated.

It was his first tour since you two started dating, so he knew it would be difficult, but he wasn’t prepared for how much he craved your presence. Hyunjin has always been an introvert, always comfortable being in his own presence. However, since being away from you, he has been nothing but a lonely mess.

He’s never really had anything to miss so much before. Sure, he has his family, and he does miss them, but it’s just different. He has Kkami, but Kkami doesn’t miss him back so it’s pretty one sided.

He doesn’t really have many close friends outside of the band members and staff. Not because he doesn’t want to, but it just never really happened. Since debuting, he never really went out of his way to go meet new people. He doesn’t really trust many people, anyways.

But then he met you.

It was painfully organic, like something out of those romance films he spent way too many hours watching. He had some time off due to some minor injuries he sustained in a car accident. The company made him stay home so he could rest.

But Hyunjin didn’t want to rest. He wanted to spend this time doing something he enjoyed. So he painted a few pieces, caught up on his favorite dramas, and even learned how to make his own iced americanos from home.

That fateful evening, he chose to spend his day at an art museum. he was touring the exhibits, admiring the artwork, when he heard a subtle gasp next to him. Turning his head in your direction, he saw you standing there, mouth agape, staring at the painting ahead of you.

He saw your eyes quickly fill with tears as you raised your phone up to take a phone of the painting. He debated interrupting your moment as you were clearly emotionally affected by this piece, but he was also painfully curious as to the story behind your reaction.

So he did something so out of character; he started a conversation with you.

You explained to him the reason behind your connection to that piece, and the two of you ended up touring the rest of the exhibit afterwards. He would have felt uneasy, fearing you were a stalker trying to get his attention, but he quickly learned that you had just moved to Korea for your job, which solidified the safe feeling he felt around you.

And he’s felt that same safeness ever since.

You two have been officially together now for 8 months, and maybe it’s just the honeymoon phase, but Hyunjin isn’t a believer in that. He believes when you’re in love, you stay in love forever. Which is why he’s certain he will never grow tired of you.

What he is tired of, in this particular moment, is how needy he feels all the time.

It isn’t something he’s used to. Hyunjin has gotten used to being alone for years, taking care of himself when he’s horny, not having anyone’s face in mind when he touches himself, just fully focused on his pleasure.

But that isn’t the case anymore. The only thing that gets him worked up is the thought of you. He can’t cum unless he imagines your face. He feels so empty afterwards without you to snuggle with. He craves you every second.

And this second is no different.

Hyunjin is currently performing the last show in Seoul. He knew you’d be here tonight, you always come to the shows they play in Korea. He was so excited to see you again, it had been too long since he last held you.

However, that was the last thing on his mind right now as he looked at you in the front row of the crowd. You smiled up at him and sent him a heart. He has to resist the urge to send one back to you, too afraid of exposing your relationship. But he just couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. You wore his favorite top, the one that hugs your cute tits so well, as well as that cute skirt he likes to fuck you in. Oh, you definitely knew what you were doing.

And Hyunjin would give you exactly what you were asking for.

~

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

You’re currently pinned against a dressing room wall with your hands pinned behind your back, exactly how you planned it.

When all you did was moan in response, Hyunjin slapped your ass and brought his lips to your ear, whispering, “oh, you wanna be quiet now? wanna act like you didn’t wear this just to get me riled up?” He roughly grabs your top and pulls it off of you before one hand starts grabbing at your tits. “Well you’re gonna get exactly what you asked for.” He doesn’t bother taking your skirt off, just lifts it up to find you wearing those crotchless panties he loves so much.

The sound he let out was almost animalistic, his fingers immediately plunging into your hole that was already so wet for him. You moaned loudly, not caring who could hear, as you tried to wiggle one of your hands out of the grip he had on your wrist. He complied, letting you free so you could raise a hand up and run it through his hair. Hyunjin was a sucker for scalp messages, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation while he continued to finger you.

“Missed you so much baby…”he says in between kisses to your neck. “Did you miss me too?” You nodded fervently, trying to fuck yourself back into his fingers while your lips searched for his. The two of you made out sloppily for a while before he pulled away and removed his fingers

You wiggled your hips desperately which made him giggle. You smiled. Even when he was trying to be hard and dominate, his sweet personality always came through. Your sweet boy was always there.

“Gonna let everyone hear how much you missed me angel?” Without time to answer, he thrusted his cock inside you all in one go. Your hands gripped the walls as you tried with every ounce of strength you had to keep quiet, letting out breathy moans here and there.

Hyunjin, however, was proudly letting everyone hear how much he missed his baby, letting out the most ethereal moans and grunts the human ear could ever hear. He set a perfect pace, angling his hips upward to hit your spot perfectly.

You couldn’t take it anymore, writhing and whining as he fucked you so perfectly, hitting your spot with precision and strength. You moaned out his name, trying to warn him you were close. He put his mouth right up to your ear, whispering. “Yeah? Gonna make a mess for the staff to clean up? Gonna let everyone know what we did in here? So filthy…” he spat, making you clench impossible tight on his length, making his rhythm falter from pleasure.

With one last long, drawn out whine of his name, you came all over his length, your cum dripping down his balls and on to the floor. He hissed at the sight and sensation, working you through your orgasm before pulling out.

“Knees, now.” He snapped his fingers towards the ground, which you were immediately knelt on. He brought his tip to your mouth. “Suck.” You obeyed, sucking his mushroom tip while he stroked the rest of his length in his hand. “Fucking cumming…fuck..fuuuuuuck.” With a deep, drawn out groan of profanities, he shot his thick warm load into your mouth, which you happily took all of before swallowing.

He brought a hand to your cheek and held your face while looking down at you with hooded eyes and staggered breaths. “So good…I love you so fucking much. Come here.” He pulled you up and immediately brought you in for a sweet kiss, moaning at the taste of both of your arousals.

After getting cleaned up and dressed, you both stepped out of the dressing room, hair and absolute wreck and faces flushed from your post orgasm glow. It was obvious to everyone what you two just did, and quite frankly, you were too spent to care.

Walking down the hall, you passed by Lee Know, who gave you both a clearly sarcastic smile, saying “Hey! Try being louder next time!” Before switching to a blank expression and walking past you. Hyunjin chuckled, before turning to you with a tired, sweet smile.

“So..dinner?”

-

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🖤💋

[getvalentined]

I've talked about the Nibelheim Doom Triangle many times, but I'm not sure I've ever actually put into words why I believe Lucrecia made the choice she did, at least not in a public forum. Given that Vincent has reentered the public consciousness with Rebirth, it's probably a good time.

We are not going to subscribe to the statement in the Ultimania that Lucrecia married Hojo out of pity because nobody in the company respected his work the same way nobody respected her thesis, because that's not only entirely out of character, but goes directly against what actually happened. Hojo was the lead assistant on Project S, like Gillian was on Project G; Gast selected him, his ideas, his theories, as being the best option after Project G failed. No one else was given this opportunity. After Sephiroth was born, Hojo was then moved (with Lucrecia and Hollander, but not Gillian, who had left the company) to work on Project 0—Shinra's single most important attempt at forcing humanity to progress as a species. Hojo was respected, and Lucrecia may be callow but she's never been the kind of woman who would marry someone out of pity. With that out of the way, we can get into my take on her decision.

I want to be explicitly clear: I don't believe it has anything to do with how attractive Vincent is versus Hojo, and I don't believe that it should. Asserting that Vincent's level of attractiveness should have been the key deciding factor in Lucrecia's decision does a disservice to her depth of character. Period. That isn't even addressing the fact that we're comparing a man who is eternally twenty-seven years old and was in peak physical condition at the time of his death to a man who is in his early sixties and has clearly not taken particularly good care of himself. We've never actually seen what Hojo looked like when he was young, since SE only ever uses one model for him in all modern iterations, so this is a moot point.

That said, Vincent's appearance was a mitigating factor in Lucrecia's decision—and it worked in Hojo's favor, not Vincent's.

We're almost twenty years out since the release of Dirge of Cerberus, so I feel like I can confidently state that Lucrecia was almost certainly in love with Grimoire Valentine. (This is proven in official meta, wherein Lucrecia's feelings for Grimoire are described using the same terminology as Vincent's feelings for Lucrecia.) It was unspoken, unrequited, and doomed from the start, but the affection she had for that man was every bit as intense as the affection Vincent had for her—in fact, on the official relationship chart, Lucrecia's feelings for Grimoire are described using the same word as Vincent's feelings for Lucrecia. This is a repeating pattern, and that's part of the tragedy. Lucrecia adored Grimoire for his intellect, his drive, his passion; Vincent adored Lucrecia for the same reasons. Vincent refers to her as "the beautiful Lucrecia," yes, but he also describes her as the woman he respected most.

Knowing that Lucrecia loved Grimoire makes sense of how she was so torn between Vincent and Hojo.

Vincent looked like his father, he had his eyes, his nose, his brow. He probably had a fair number of his mannerisms, body language inherited and learned via his upbringing. They probably spoke almost the same way, their voices were similar, they had the same stories and the same sense of humor and the same idiosyncracies. But Vincent wasn't his father—he wasn't even a scientist, he didn't have that academic drive that drew Lucrecia to Grimoire in the first place. He was younger than Lucrecia by a few months, he couldn't be her guide or her teacher, and while he'd been assigned to be her protector, it wasn't the same. It could never be the same.

Hojo, meanwhile, looked nothing like Grimoire. His dark eyes and wide mouth and narrow shoulders were nothing like the man Lucrecia loved and lost through her own mistakes. But his drive, his passion, his determination—my god, it was just like him. Hojo's single-minded certainty, his confidence in his own comprehension, his intellectual unquenchable thirst to understand those things beyond his reach, it was all the same. His body language was different, his speech patterns were different, his research itself was different—but not, it turns out, too different, as Grimoire is indicated to be the first Shinra scientist to propose using foreign material on a child in utero in an attempt to produce something in-between man and god that could be communicated with on a human level. This theory, found amongst Grimoire's body of research after his death, may have actually inspired the direction of the Jenova Project (after working on adults in the Howling Fang failed to produce a functional result), and is directly responsible for the creation of Nero.

Vincent would never do that. Grimoire wrote it down, so we can assume that he would have, if he'd had the chance. Hojo did.

Lucrecia may have seen Grimoire in Vincent with her eyes, but she saw him in Hojo with her mind, and that's the part of him that she loved. That's the kind of man that she loved. That's the part of Hojo that she loved.

Before long, I can't imagine she was seeing him as an echo of Grimoire. Hojo was so different, but he was exactly what she wanted, exactly the kind of man—she thought—with whom she could spend the rest of her life. Working side by side as equals, two scientific minds ready to change the world together in ways that they never could alone.

Vincent, though? Vincent looks so much like his father, Lucrecia never stopped seeing his ghost. Every time she looked Vincent in the eye, she saw his father. Every time he spoke, every time he moved, every time he laughed or grimaced or sighed, she saw his father. Even at the very end, when she believed she'd failed to save him and left him in that tank for Hojo to find, she didn't see Vincent, she didn't see Chaos. She saw Grimoire.

"Did you know your eyes are just like your father's?"

Lucrecia chose Hojo because she had so much love left in her, and the echoes of Grimoire she saw physically in Vincent weren't enough for that love to find a home in him.

Lucrecia chose Hojo because he was alive, and she was tired of loving a ghost.

[preciouslittle-bhaalbabe]

The battle is nearly over, and Tomie is landing the final blow. With a hiss, she tackles the weakened gnoll and bears her teeth into its flesh. Killing it almost instantly. Her jaw locks in and she begins to drain the lifeblood from the gnolls limp body.

Shadowheart: Ugh, really? Now?

Gale: Oh...Right. Well er, I'm going to go over there. Far, FAR away from the hungry vampire...s...

Astarion: Oh don't fret. My darling would never hurt any of us.

G: I hope you do not take offense when I say I do not believe you in the slightest.

Astarion walks over to Tomie, who is finishing up her meal. She sees him approach and unlatches her teeth from the creature.

A: Darling, I know you were hungry. But what do we say about when we are in mortal company?

Tomie stands up and licks her lips.

T: Did I scare the others again?

A: You did indeed.

He gently wipes some blood from the corner of her lips and places it into his own mouth.

A: And I couldn't be more proud. But, be that as it may.

T: I'll feed away from the sight of our friends I know.

A: It's just to avoid awkwardness, love. We don't want to unsettle our friends, now do we?

T: Of course not...Well....Maybe Gale.

A: That's my girl.

[reinerismwrld]

Hopeless

PAIRING: Monkey D. Luffy x Reader

SUMMARY: After Usopp left the crew, you knew Luffy wouldn’t like anyone to disturb him, unless it’s you.

GENRE: Angst and fluff 

WARNINGS: Established relationship. Mentioned of blood.

WORD COUNT: 595 words

A/N: I promised myself I wasn’t going to write about One Piece until I had my AOT series out, but I watched Usopp leave the crew yesterday, and this is my way to cope because that was heartbreaking, so enjoy!!!

“Hey,” you whispered to Luffy, who was leaning on the fence on the rooftop of the hotel you were staying for the night, wanting to get his attention and also trying hard not to start crying again after watching the dreadful fight Luffy and Usopp had not long ago.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Luffy didn’t even look your way, something that wasn’t normal, at least for him. He always greeted you with a bright smile and sparkly eyes. And it hurt you to see him like this.

Also, this was the first time you ever saw him cry, and you couldn’t bear the thought of that happening again.

“I know, but maybe a little company can help.” You made your way next to him. You didn’t really know how Luffy was going to react in this situation. It’s the first time he not only lost a crewmate but also a friend. It felt like a part of all of you was missing.

“Do you think it was a mistake? Choosing to leave the Merry here?“ Luffy asked, wanting to know your opinion. Even if he was the captain, he knew sometimes he needed common sense from anyone in the crew. He knows he can be reckless sometimes.

“It was your decision, Captain.”

“Please, tell me what you really think. Forget just this time, I’m your captain. And tell me what you think as my girlfriend,” you sighed.

“I don’t know much about ships. I do know our ship holds meaning for all of us. And it holds even more meaning to Usopp. After all, Kaya gave us the ship.” Luffy only nodded. “I also think everything has to come to an end, and if this was the end of the Merry, then I would gladly say goodbye to it with a smile. It was the best ship we could’ve asked for.”

“And the fight..?”

“I also believe that was bound to happen. You heard Usopp. The Merry was just the final straw. He already made up his mind even before you told him about the Merry.” 

“I don’t think he’s weaker, that… That’s what he said.”

“ I think-“You stayed in silence before correcting what you were going to say, “No, I’m sure no one thinks like that, Luffy. Which makes me think everything that happened today with the Franky Family made him think so poorly of himself.” Without even realizing it, Luffy wrapped his arms around you, holding you in his warm embrace. You hugged him back, letting him know you were there for him. Your hands made their way to his hair, and you started to caress it. 

As you felt Luffy’s tears wet your shirt, you tried to think of a life where the crew wouldn’t have Usopp, and it made your heart ache. If it hurt you like this, you can’t imagine how bad this affected the others, let alone Luffy.

“I swear I didn’t want it to escalate so quickly,” he cried softly, and you tried to calm him down by patting his head.

“I know that everything seems to be crumbling down, and you feel hopeless. Unfortunately, I believe all of us feel this way. This was a long day. But believe me when I say everything will be alright, Luffy.”

“How?”

“I really don’t know how, but everything seems to resolve somehow. One way or another,” Luffy’s hold became stronger as if he didn’t want you to go. Fearing you would also leave him. “No matter what happens, I will never leave you, Luffy.”

“Promise?”

“Promise”

n a v i g a t i o n

o n e  p i e c e  m a s t e r l i s t 

[write-here-n-now]

maybe...it's more than hate

C.(S). Jungwon x GN Reader + ft. Ni-Ki | WC. 996 | G. Fluff; Hurt; Angst | Prompt: Enemies-to-???; coworkers-to-???; Physiotherapist AU; Drunken confessions | Part 1 of __ |

∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘

It easy to hate. Its even easier to fall in love. How do you choose between the two?

∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘∘

ACT 1

It all happened two months ago. A company dinner. You and Jungwon had been butting heads since you both joined the same clinic. You two were some of the best physiotherapists in the area, with a loyal clientele and hundreds of reviews boasting of your magical ability to solve even the trickiest of chronic pain, but only one of you could be the best—right?

For everyone beside the two of you, it was simply the case of a bad first impression which just snowballed into further animosity between the two of you. You two knew the limits in a professional workplace but that was only when your boss was watching. 

--------

You’d never hung out with Jungwon outside of work long enough to witness how his drunk self acted, but it seemed that he took the opportunity to let loose, to which you strategically remained sober so perhaps he’d say something that you could tease him relentless or better yet have an embarrassing video to show him the next day of work. You didn’t get a video but boy did he say something—just not something you could tease him over.

“I…like youuu…Y/Nnnnn, i…. likkkkeee you a lottt.” Even with alcohol in his system making his words sloppier and the bustling around you, your ears caught each word.

You were unsure if there had been something stronger in the alcohol, but as you kindly waited with Jungwon for a cab to take his wasted self home, you were suddenly hyper-aware of everything in your vicinity the moment those words left his mouth. 

The smell of fried oil from nearby food stalls. the slight cool breeze contrasting the humid night atmosphere. Engines vrring in the nearby main street. Laughter resounding from inside the restaurants where some of your coworkers remained. 

You slowly turn around. “What…did-what did you just say?” Your eyes are narrow, confusion tattooed on your forehead, a stark difference from the drumming heartbeat in your chest ringing all the way to your ears or the weird flutter in the pit of your stomach. 

Had the door exiting the restaurant transported you to an alternate universe? Jungwon, your sworn nemesis since you started at the clinic was drunkenly professing his love? How your mind was moving a mile a minute to make sense of the situation.

“I.Like.Y-YOU.” He moves closer with each word until only a fraction’s arm length remains. His eyes, unwavering from yours, you almost believe he was completely sober with how he holds eye contact.

Though the smell of alcohol on him is pungent to your nostrils, it mixes with his cologne and what you can only assume is the lingering scent of fabric softener, all blending together with the aroma of food nearby, your mind and senses getting hazy and confused by the second. 

Before you can even open your mouth for a smart retort or push him away, your Uber pulls up, the driver rolling his window down to call your name.

“Uber for Y/N”

You turn around quickly, saved by the driver calling out your name. 

“Hi sir,” you wave. “Just give us a moment, we need to drop this gentleman home first.”

“Ooo-h genlet mem?” Jungwon muses, chuckling to himself. His words suddenly lose their previous sense of clarity.

You roll your eyes as you grab his arm to guide him towards the Uber, his body heat causing you to tense at the close contact. Opening the door to the backseat you shield his head as he stumbles inside. Closing the door behind him, you ready yourself for the most awkward ride of your life until a coworker of yours and close friend of Jungwon, Ni-Ki, comes rushing out of the restaurant.

“Hey!”

“Hey Ni-Ki is everything ok?”

“Yeah yea, I was wondering if I could Uber with you?”

“Didn’t you drive here?

“I did and I wasn’t gonna drink but then the boss brought out the fruit soju and well you get the gist.” 

“I see…” Taking a quick glance at Jungwon who’s now lying in the backseat, giggling to himself about something. “Is it ok if you take Jungwon home then? I’m not sure how he was planning on getting to his apartment after the Uber and he doesn’t seem to be sobering up.”

Ni-Ki bends down to take a peek at Jungwon as you speak, nodding his head in agreement. “Yeah for sure.”

Ni-Ki climbs on in the back forcing Jungwon to sit up so they both can fit. You get into the passenger seat and so the ride begins and in no time, with Ni-Ki in attendance, you get dropped off first.

Watching the Uber pull away from the entrance to your building, you can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened had you been forced to take Jungwon home after that confession, your heart still thumping against your chest from when you stole glances at Jungwon during the car ride.

--------

You can't sleep. Tossing. Turning. Meditating. A warm glass of milk. Counting sheep. Keeping very still. Yet, nothing would do the trick.

When your body did give itself up to fatigue, your mind decides to play tricks in your dreams. A series of dreams (more like nightmares) somehow always ending with Jungwon interrupting whatever you were doing to confess. Whether you were about to skydive off a mountain or a mythical creature was telling you that you were the chosen one, Jungwon’s confession interfered EACH.DAMN.TIME .

Your eyes shoot open at the blaring of your alarm. Turning the alarm off, you allow yourself a few moments to just lie in bed. Replaying the vividness of your dreams, each more confusing than the last. The cutoff of each scenario just as you meant to give him a reply, no different to how you were interrupted last night. 

Sitting up, you rub the lacklustre sleepiness out of your eyes, dreading facing the man who made your life a whirlwind from the last 12 hours.

[buccini555]

… 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

𝐖𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝...

≡ Shinichiro finally noticed you

⌕ I m a g i n e s !

♡... 𝑭𝒕. Shinichiro Sano and special participation by Izana Kurokawa!

⚠︎!! explicit smut,unprotected s♡x, virg♡nity loss, school bathroom s♡x, oral, overstimulation, bl♡wjob, smoking, petnames (baby, honey)... I think that's all?

On that day that seemed to be just another day full of boredom, not many people had gone to school because it was a week after the holidays, but, you were there with your friends, you realized that they didn't give a damn about you, for that reason you ended up walking away and going to some corner of the classroom where you could be alone, as you didn't have classes that day, you just stood there passing a colorless nail polish on your nails anxious to finally leave that stupid place, everything was really boring until someone walked through the door in the class, Shinichiro Sano, a grade above you, you had already talked a few times before and you had a huge crush on him, so you laid eyes on the taller one, you had already noticed him a few times, but, you knew that despite being extremely extroverted, he was shy when it came to girls and you also faithfully believed that you would not have a chance with that boy, he is handsome, tall, affectionate and cute, you always have him in your thoughts, every time Shinichiro spoke to you he was extremely kind.

Shinichiro came to bring the message from the another teacher, since they had nothing to do in the classroom, it was better that they practice some sport or something, you thought it was a waste of time, but it was the same with the rest of your class, arriving at the place of sports, you sat apart from the rest, continuing to manage your nails and listening to songs, your playlist had just started when Shinichiro sat down next to you.

"What are you doing here, alone? Have your friends left you out again?" Shinichiro approached you, making you take off your headphones and pay attention to him, you could only notice how handsome he was and that made you a little intimidated.

"They're like... boring as fuck! but I really don't give a shit, how about you? Why are you here?" You replied despondently, looking away and putting your songs aside.

"I saw you alone and I came to keep you company! I don't want to see you so sad" He smiled, Shinichiro looked confident and shy at the same time, you could see a bit of nervousness on the taller one's face.

"Hmm? Okay... Seriously, I really wanted to go somewhere more secluded, don't you know any places?" You questioned him, watching the other people from afar.

"Hmmm? I know a place! Do you want to go with me?" He looked at you after thinking a bit, wondering if you really wanted to go with him.

"I honestly am hating being here..."

"I think it's best that no one sees us going together, so go to the bathroom behind the court and wait for me, understand?"

"Bathroom?" You laughed, questioning him about the location.

Shinichiro laughed and you got up, quickly going to the aforementioned place without get other people's attention, that bathroom had been disabled for a few years, so no one went in there, unless you had the key, as you obviously didn't get it, you waited for Shinichiro, who arrived soon after.

"Do you have the key to this place, Shinichiro?"

"...I have my secrets, baby." Sano responded immediately, taking the keys out of one of his coat pockets.

He opened the door, first looking to see if anyone was around, but there was just you and him.

"What a strange place!" You spoke in a low tone while looking at the abandoned bathroom.

"We can leave here if you want..."

"Oh, Shini, whatever! We should go into one of the cabins, someone can come in here."

"It's quite impossible for anyone to enter here, but... Since you want to enter, let's go."

You and Shinichiro entered one of the cabins, the place was tight, for that reason you were getting closer and closer, at that moment, you started to see Shinichiro with different eyes, you knew the sudden approach was getting him a little excited, but obviously he wasn't going to show it, he seemed to want something, but he didn't know what to do, so, you got even closer to him, when he finally took the courage to hold your waist and give you a small kiss.

"I-I'm so sorry! I don't know why I did it!" Nervousness took hold of him, as he had never had a girl in his hands before.

"Shini? Hey, no need to apologize, I... want to." You reciprocated the kiss, this time, it became longer and the kisses were getting more and more "warm", you held the chain around Shinichiro's neck while kissing him, he gently ran his hand over your body, making you sigh a few times.

After a few kisses, he gently held you by the waist again and placed you on top of a small counter inside the cabin, staying between your legs while kissing you, at that moment you realized that he put more strength into the touch, also feeling how excited he was while he was between your legs you could feel how hard he was, he was itching to try you, you knew that if they did something, it would have to be quick, so, even though you were still a virgin, you didn't waste time at that moment with Shinichiro.

"Shini, S-shini? P-please"

"Baby? You want to stop?"

"No! Please, I want more!"

"Hmm? More?"

"I-I want you, Shini."

"I don't want to give you the wrong impression..."

"N-no, baby, I want to lose my virginity with you..."

"B-baby, you should expect someone special!"

"You are special to me, Shinichiro, please, I'm so horny, only you can satisfy me."

The fact that you wanted to lose your virginity to him just made him even more horny and more willing to fuck you, when he realized that you really wanted him, Shinichiro just stopped talking, he started kissing you with even more desire and put his hand inside your pants, gently jerking you off over your panties, when he started to feel you were wet enough "So pretty, baby!" he just pulled your panties aside and started touching your clit, after you started moaning even more he gently put his fingers on you.

"...Mmm, baby? I promise to be careful."

You were already horny, almost begging him to fuck you, you just moaned softly begging for his dick, so, answering your request, Shinichiro gently made you touch. "Can you handle a dick that big, or nah?" You just nodded your head in affirmation, he was already extremely turned on so he started to put it on you carefully, when you got used to his dick he started to be faster and go deeper and deeper, holding her mouth so no one can hear her moans, "That tight pussy belongs to me, only I can fuck you like that, cum for me honey" He said as he worked hard, he just wanted to make you have your first orgasm, so Shinichiro really put effort into what he was doing.

"F-fuck, can I cum in your mouth?Please" He asked you when he was about to reach his peak, you quickly accepted, giving him a blowjob before he cumming, you knew what you were doing so you just made the taller one let out some moans and melt in your mouth.

You still had some time, so Shinichiro refused to try your pussy taste, he really wanted to use his tongue at that moment, but, when he started to lick your clit and penetrate you again with his fingers, some motherfucker knocked on the door, Shinichiro was sure it was his brother, Izana Kurokawa, Izana had become a fucking smoker and used to go to that bathroom for a smoke sometimes.

"Fuck! stay quiet, baby, I won't stop" He made you stay quiet while he finished what he was doing, when you finally came in his mouth, Shinichiro and you got dressed and left the bathroom.

"What the hell is that, Shinichiro?"

Izana screamed as soon as he saw you leaving the place together, he started laughing, apologizing for having disturbed. Shinichiro just looked at him in disgust and grabbed your hand, pulling you away.

[celtigxr]

The Pink Dread (Master List) - - - - - ch. iii : A King's Command

Chapter Summary: Speculations conspire in court before the Celtigars and Targaryens sit for their supper reunited.

Word count: 3175

Sneak Peak: Valeana crunched down on her plum, chewing loudly, rudely, and slowly.  “If you wish to marry Aemond, sweet sister, you have my permission, my blessing,” Valeana spat out the pit crudely. “I’ll even make your dress. But you must promise me one thing.” She leans in over her knees so her eyes level with Floris’--

Warnings: None, i think.

T H E  G R E E N S 

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“It is a mistake for the Celtigars to be here,” Aemond said plainly when he reached the safety of the study in the Hand’s Tower. His grandsire sat, pouring over letters and creating a list of confirmed guests. “Their apartments could have hosted a more influential house – The Baratheons will arrive before any other. They would have made better use of those rooms.”

Otto glanced up at his grandson, and then back at his letters, “I agree.”

“Then why didn’t you protest against it?” He pulled off his gloves and tossed them onto a table before moving over to a pitcher and pouring himself a goblet of wine. 

“I did. I had proposed many other alternatives; The Lannisters, the Starks, my own brother and his family. But your father will not budge. He insists on making amends with all Valyrian houses.”

“I fear his intentions extend further than simply brokering peace,” Aemond settled into a chair before the Lord Hand. 

At his words Otto lifts his head again, then leans back into his chair, “You believe he intends to petition to renew your betrothal to Bartimos’ eldest blood daughter?” 

Aemond shrugged, eye darting away at the mere mention of Valeana Celtigar, “It would make sense, would it not, grandfather? He specified in his invitation that he wishes to unite the Valyrian houses at last.”

“He- did,” Otto conceded and steepled his hands, “Though he could obtain this without forcing you to marry a girl you clearly have no regard for.”

“Helaena and Aegon are already to be betrothed, I am the next child of his that is unaffixed.”

“His Grace has yet to go with that arrangement, if you failed to notice. He may find a better match for your sister in Clement Celtigar.”

Aemond made a face. He couldn’t see his sister being Lady of Claw Isle. 

“He could also wed Aegon—”

Before Otto finished his sentence, Aemond scoffed, shaking his head, “He will not waste his first born son on such an insignificant house. No, Aegon will marry Helaena or he will marry a highborn lady of a much more influential house. If my father is wise, that is how it should be.”

Otto’s eyes narrowed at the prince, “King Viserys may be wise, but he is also blinded by optimism, by fantasies of peace begot by love matches.” It was the whole point of this charade. It was a woman’s fantasy, that peace could be achieved by the love of a woman, but history tends to favour the opposite. It is the love of a woman that tends to start wars. “You forgot his third son, Aemond. You are not the only bartering piece he has.” 

“Hm,” Aemond purses his lips. It was so easy to forget about Daeron. He lived his entire life in Oldtown, and Aemond had only known his brother through letters and descriptions from his mother’s brother. For the first time since his infancy, Daeron would be returning home, to stand beside the strangers he calls brothers and sister. “And would you approve of a betrothal between Daeron and a Celtigar?”

Otto indeed had plans for Daeron, ones that were actively taking place. But he was a smarter man than his grandson, and knew not to voice his ambitions, even with trusted company. Besides, Aemond’s line of questioning felt self-deprecating, as if he was trying to find excuses to make his suspicions valid. Of all the stoic dignity that his grandson had, he was still a young man, still easily influenced by emotions he did not understand. 

“I heard Lady Valeana has become quite comely,” Otto chose his words carefully, whilst eyeing Aemond closely. “Your brothers could do worse.” 

Aemond grit his jaw, his eye gazing into the goblet in his hand, “Hm. I suppose we shall see. In less than a moon, we will have every eligible maid in the realm to choose from.” 

“Then I would not fret over the Celtigars, Aemond,” Otto casted one last look at him before returning his attention to his letters. “They will also have the pick of the Realm’s finest knights and lords. I am sure Lady Valeana will not struggle to find a match, and then she will no longer be your problem.”

T H E   R E D S

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Aegon Targaryen sealed his fate when he kissed the knuckles of his doom, who went by the name of Shyla Celtigar. 

“And his lips stayed upon my hand longer than what is proper. Five seconds, I’ve counted!” Shyla spun around the room, hands pressed to her bosom as she looked up to the heavens in her delusional bliss. 

“Hells,” Floris rolled her eyes as she slowly took off her earrings to give her lobes a break from their weight. “Not this noise again.”

“Why are you surprised?” Valeana circled the solar, the same solar that she and her sisters shared as children. Not much has changed, save for the tapestries. They were no longer the ones she had made. “You know how she is.” 

“And the way he looked at me! He was staring at me the entire time, didn’t you notice?” Shyla collapsed into a settee next to Floris. “I think we are in love.” 

Floris stared back at her sister with a deadpan expression. After a second beat of silence, she asked, “Was that not the case with Ser Colin? Or Lord Steffon, or Wyl the stablehand?” 

“Wyl,” Shyla sunk into her body, a dreamy look on her face at the mere mention of the boy she had ‘fallen in love with’ only days before departing Claw Isle. “Our love was never meant to be. I am of noble birth… and he… really likes horses. Like more than a man sh–”

“Enough! I do not wish to hear it,” Floris raised a hand, and Valeana cackled in the background. “I would not get your hopes up with Aegon, Shyla. You will only hurt yourself again.” 

Shyla pouted, “And why’s that?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious?” She looked at her and then at Valeana, “His Grace wants to unite the three Valyrian houses. He has three unwed sons, and our Lord father has three unwed daughters. The Celtigars are the only Valyrian house that has not united with the Targaryens.” 

Shyla’s eyes go wide, “But that means Aegon and I–”

“No, you fool,” she shook her head, “He would not wed Aegon to you. He will wed eldest to youngest, it is only fair, it is the only sensible decision.”

That is when Valeana paused her pacing. By her step-sisters logic, Val would marry Aemond, which would not go over well between both her and Bartimos.

“But you are not a Celtigar,” Val reminded her, earning her a vicious glare from Floris. Val merely shrugged, “It is the truth. You may share a relation, but you are a Grafton first and a Frey second.”

“So father would have you marry Aegon? Is that what you desire, sister?” Floris huffed, barely containing her derisive amusement at her sister’s arrogance. “Is this your way of getting back at Aemond One-Eye?”

It was Val’s turn to roll her eyes, “I wouldn’t marry Aegon Targaryen even if they gave me a dragon egg as payment. And this has nothing to do with Ae– him. There are other Targaryens and other Celtigars. Clement is our house’s heir, and Prince Daemon has two unwed daughters. Father has held more correspondence with Dragonstone than he has with anyone else, it makes more sense.” 

“So that means I will marry Aegon!” Shyla’s face broke out in a large grin. 

The two eldest sisters snapped their heads to attention towards her. 

“No–”

“Yes–”

Then they both looked at eachother. 

“Do not fill her head with any more delusions, Valeana,” Floris spoke through clenched teeth.

Val shrugged, “It’s funny, and I’m bored.”

Floris ran her hand over her broad forehead before returning to their original conversation, “Father would be a fool if he did not wed us to one of Viserys’ sons. We grew up together–”

“Father distrusts Viserys’ sons. He may love the King as both his sovereign and friend, but that love does not extend to the princes. He will not see us marry them,” Val relaxed into an armchair, casually plucking a sugared plum off a tray. 

By us, she means Shyla and herself, Floris speculated. Her eyes narrowed as she straightened her back, “He won't see you marry them. But Shyla and I do not share the same story as you do. And quit eating, we are going to sup soon.”

Valeana crunched down on her plum, chewing loudly, rudely, and slowly. 

“If you wish to marry Aemond, sweet sister, you have my permission, my blessing,” Valeana spat out the pit crudely. “I’ll even make your dress. But you must promise me one thing.” She leans in over her knees so her eyes level with Floris’, “You must admit to our sister that Aegon is indeed in love with her.” 

Shyla gasped. 

Floris groaned. 

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Clement stood by the door while his lord father paced his solar, and his step mother preened herself in a looking glass. 

“So the craven decided to show his face,” Bartimos’ lip curled. “Late. A great insult.” 

“You would see it as an insult still had he come on time, my dear,” Ursula spoke sense. “You knew your daughter would eventually have to cross paths with him while we were here.”

Bartimos huffed, finally stopping as he placed a hand on the back of a chair to steady himself, to ground himself. He looked down at the floor as he steadied his breathing, and then faced his son again, “I hope he shook in his boots.”

“Valeana stood her ground,” Clement shrugged, “Though they did not speak to each other directly.” 

He remembered the way they looked at each other though. His sister stared up at the man who maimed her as if he were a window she was gazing through, and Aemond looked down at her like she was a nightmare come to life.

“That’s my girl,” Bartimos pounded his fist on the back of the chair. “She is strong, like her mother. She will get what is owed to her.”

“And what is that exactly,�� Ursula leaned away from her looking glass to impassively look at her husband. “She walks now, so she no longer lacks what he has taken away from her.”

“I hear the prince has a large sapphire for an eye,” Clement offered, “I say we pluck it from his skull and give it to my sister on the end of a gold chain.” 

Bartimos pointed at his son, “I like the way your head works, my boy.”

“Have both of you lost your heads?” Ursula stood up from her seat, her skirts swishing as she moved. “We are guests of the bloody King of the Seven Realms. Guests of honour! We are in no position to make demands for old wounds that have already healed!” 

Both Bartimos and son looked away, clicks in their jaws. Being reprimanded by a woman with common sense was always so humiliating, even in the privacy of their own quarters. 

“Honestly, remind yourselves why we are here: marriages. Alliances. I expect all my children to be promised to another by the end of this Conclave, whether they are a bloody Targaryen, or a Valeryon, Lannister, Tyrell, Tully, Stark, Arryn, I do not care– As long as you are all out of my hair.”

Bartimos shared a look with Clement as silence settled the argument. Ursula went back to her preening, and the only noise that was left was Lord Celtigar’s fingers tapping the wooden surface of the chair he still leaned on. 

“Valeryon, huh?”

T H E  G R E E N S 

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Aemond was not given the privilege of being tardy for supper that evening. It was his father himself who came to collect him from his quarters. Flanked between two white cloaks, the King was announced as he stepped through the threshold, and then the two knights were promptly dismissed.

“Father,” Aemond stood, his back ram-rod straight. He wasn’t entirely sure when his father had ever stepped foot in his private quarters. Perhaps when he first learned how to crawl. “To what do I owe the honour?”

“You did not come when I summoned you,” Viserys walked over to the nearest chair to relax his legs. He had been walking far too much that day, and even if his health was improving with every sinnight, he still grew weak after hours of overexertion. “You are lucky your absence did not create tension.”

“My presence would have, father,” Aemond reasoned as he stood in front of his sire, leaning against the table. “But forgive me, it was not my intention to not be present–” a lie “-- I was delayed. Though, I happened upon the Celtigars on my way down.”

“I heard,” His father placed his cane between his legs and balanced a hand on it. “Why do you make it your mission to insult them?”

“I mean no insult.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Aemond’s eye flickered away from his father, “Hm.” 

“You never did explain why you did it,” Viserys’ voice was softer then, forcing Aemond to look back upon his father. “You and Valeana were quite close. Closer than you ever were to your brother or sister.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched as he tried to forget about memories of laughter beneath the Heart Tree. Of heads resting on shoulders from a long night of reading together. Of lips pressed on the bleeding tip of a finger where a needle pricked. 

“Perhaps you did not look close enough, father. Lord Bartimos’ girls had been a thorn in our sides for half our lives. It was not just me that the girls vexed so much, but Aegon and my nephews. They followed our heels like hungry mutts, and would not give us a reprieve.”

Viserys leaned back in his chair and tapped his cane onto the floor in thought, “They fancied you boys. Is that a crime?”

Aemond swallowed slowly, remembering green eyes welled with tears and betrayle.

“They were annoying with their affections, father. I will not apologize for acting like a child when I was one.”

“You will,” Viserys began to stand again, putting his weight on his cane. With a chin lifted, he continued, “You will make amends with Lady Valeana. She did not deserve what you did to her that day; child or no, you acted selfishly, recklessly, and cruelly.”

Aemond’s lips thinned as he regarded the floor next to his father’s cane, his hands curling into a fist at his side. He never apologized a day in his life, and why should he? The world was cruel to him and offered him no apology, and it made him stronger. He didn’t need his brother’s apology, nor Luke’s for taking his eye, nor did he need to offer Rhaena an apology for claiming Vhagar. And he certainly did not need Valeana’s forgiveness. He lived well the last ten years without it.

“Oh!” His hand jerked from uncorking the bottle of stolen wine. The burgundy liquid spit out and landed all over Valeana’s purple gown. She gasped, “Aemond! My dress!”  The prince cringed, and then scrambled to apologize. “I’m–I’m terribly sorry… It was an accident. Hells, I’ve ruined this, haven't I? I just wanted your name day to be special–” “Aemond,” her hand found his forearm, trying to cease his rambling. “It’s-It’s fine, it’s just a dress.” “But it’s brand new – It looks expensive… I’ll make this right, I promise. I’ll have a new one made – a better one!” “Aemond!” She giggled, like music to his ears. Her other hands clasped his face and pinched his cheeks to get him to stop talking. “I forgive you. It was an accident. I forgive you.”

“If you wish it, father.”

“I do not wish it,” Viserys took a step towards his second son. “I command it.” 

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Supper was served in the Small Hall. Aemond had arrived steps behind his father, and behind him followed his mother and grandsire. His brother and sister were already present, as were their guests of honour. Viserys took his place at the head of the table, his Queen at his left, and Lord Bartimos at his right. One by one people took their chairs, aligning with age. After Alicent, was the Lord Hand, and next to him Aegon, Helaena, then Aemond. On Aemond’s left sat Arthor, the youngest of House Celtigar, and so far the least troublesome. 

From Bartimos’ right, sat his Lady wife, then his heir, Clement, followed by Floris, Valeana, and lastly, Shyla. Valeana sat directly across from Aemond, and he wondered if this was by design. He had never seen his father sit at the head of the table, having preferred the middle, where he had access to all the food and drink. 

They all descended into their chairs after the King relaxed into his own. He wore a smile the moment he stepped into the hall, and it broadened when he gazed upon the faces that sat before him. 

“We have not sat like this in a decade,” Viserys states what they all have been thinking. He reached and grabbed onto Bartimos’ forearm, “Barty, my old friend. I have missed your company.”

Bartimos smiled, using his other hand to clasped the king’s, “And I yours.”

Aemond’s eye flickered between the two, wondering if it was going to be mentioned why their friendship was severed in the first place. Then his eye landed on the woman who sat in front of him, her attention pulled over to the end of the table. She removed her headpiece for the evening, allowing him a better view of the plaits that pulled the hair away from her face and united as one knot that settled on her thick bed of hair. The Valeana he remembered hated wearing her hair down; she was always uncomfortable under the heat of King’s Landing, and how the sweat would gather on the back of her neck. 

Was her hair always that long and thick? Did she not feel hot right now?

Aemond’s attention moved from the crown of her head to the curve of her neck. She didn’t have her sisters’ long elegant swan necks, but it was no longer armoured by a layer of fat. He remembered that beauty mark, right there on the side; it looks smaller than he remembered. 

Before Aemond’s eye could go further south, the sound of a chair being pushed back pulled him into the present. Apparently, his father had been exchanging pleasantries between Bartimos, but what was said was lost to Aemond. His father stood at the front of the table with a goblet in his hand, and peace in his heart. 

“To old friendships,” he toasted, eyes sweeping over the table before landing on his second son. “And forgiveness.” 

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos

(if you wish to be tagged for updates, please reply and ask!)

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

[eisforeidolon]

Hellers still going on about “Watching Over Me” being about Cass. Claiming Jensen confirmed it in a meet and greet. It’s funny they never have video proof beyond, “Misha said it”.

That's kind of what they do.

One of them comes up with a totally bonkers interpretation of something, completely makes some shit up they claim totally happened (trust me bro!), or Misha queerbaits them to keep the minion attention/money flowing. The rest of them, like the gullible and obsessed desperate conspiracy theorists they are, repeat it among themselves over and over and over as "proof" their ship(s) are totes real until the heat death of the universe. The part where it's batshit insane, has zero evidentiary backing, or even has been clearly refuted? Completely irrelevant!

Here, one of them came up with a totally bonkers interpretation of the song while desperately searching Radio Company's catalogue for secret hidden clues that Jensen was pining away, miserable that the SPN finale didn't end with D/C. Misha heard about it, and because he's a spineless backstabbing weasel with all the integrity of a disintegrating toupee, quote unquote joked about it being true. I can't remember if someone made up the M&G story of him confirming it wholesale or if it was a creative reinterpretation of someone else's M&G report, insisting Jensen confirmed it when the fan actually reported him saying something to the effect of not intending/wanting to say songs had specific meanings. Regardless, believing it's actually legit requires ignoring:

The part where it's pretty absurd to think Steve and Jensen are sitting around writing songs from Dean's PoV, and batshit insane to think Steve and Jensen would be sitting around writing songs about a fictional non-canon ship Jensen has made it clear multiple times he is baffled by the popularity of and sees as no part of Dean's story. Especially when Jensen has said the majority of the writing is actually Steve's. The part where Misha couldn't even fucking name what song it supposedly was that was totes for real about Dean and Cass. The part where there are specific reports that STEVE talked about that song in a Patreon livestream to say it was about having an angel watching over you that you don't want watching over you, not some schmoopy romance. The part where, once again, Jensen supposedly validates D/C all the time ... just so long as no one is recording him.

None of that matters, and if one of them mustered up the idiocy to ask Jensen onstage at the next convention if it was a D/C song and he literally just stared at them in angry bafflement and said, "No." before immediately moving on? They'd make up a million reasons he was lying, didn't understand his own song, or how "No." was aCtUaLLy super secret code for "OMG YES."

It's the same story with their meta ~*interpreting*~ a love story out of bad stereotypes and random minutiae. It's the same story with their constant tales of Jensen telling a fan in detail how he totes lurves D/C now in ops/autos - often at the same cons where he shoots it down onstage. It's the same story with their absurd claims Misha was a third lead and saved the show. It's the same story with all their myriad conspiracies about the finale regarding the network/secret footage/secret scripts/Jared/NDAs/etc. It's the same story with their insistence Jensen hates the aired finale and barn scene because he didn't like the initial pitch. And on and on and on and on...

Being a heller means actively rejecting living in a rational, fact-based reality in favor of steeping yourself in The Undeniable Truth of Detestiel until your brain boils away to nothing.

[salty-croissants]

Crumbling Walls ( Rayman x g/n reader )

I’ve been imagining this scenario very often lately , where the reader comforts Rayman after he gets basically fired from his job … I just really want him to be happy , those scenes of his always break my heart fr :,I 

I apologize for the possible ooc moments and generally not so good writing … hope this still turned out okay ! 

Details : use of gender neutral reader ;

friends to lovers ;

presence a few suggestive elements as well as mature topics such as mentions of alcohol and drugs , and occasional swearing ( if any of these make you uncomfortable not reading this is advised ! ) 

A long sigh escaped Rayman’s mouth , as he put down his sixth wine bottle … or was it the seventh … ? At this point , he couldn’t even tell anymore . 

That whole situation felt so unreal , and deep down he was hoping that maybe , just maybe , it was all just a dream , and that he was going to wake up in his bedroom and then head to work on his shows like always … 

… but he knew that wasn’t possible . Not anymore , not after what he did just a few hours ago . 

Rayman took a deep breath , getting up from the couch to grab another bottle to drown his sorrows in , when suddenly the damaged screen of his television lit the room up in a blinding white light …

< … the hell’s this ? > 

Who could be calling him at such a late hour ? 

Was it the Board of Directors ? 

Maybe they wanted to apologize to him for what had happened ? 

Unlikely … he had spoken to one of them not that long ago and the conversation hadn’t gone well , as the hole on the screen demonstrated … 

But when his blurry vision managed to make out the name of the caller , his tired eyes widened …

< Y/n ? > 

< Rayman - I’m so sorry I didn’t manage to talk to you sooner ! 

It’s been such a busy day and I just managed to find a minute to call you after work ! 

I just … wanted to know how you were doing , after … all that’s gone down tonight . > 

Hearing your voice resonating through the room made him feel … oddly at peace , as he staggered closer to the television .

You were one of the few people he truly felt at ease with : you were always so kind , with a strong opposition against any discrimination toward hybrids as well as a strong sense of justice … 

The fact that you had chosen to reach out to him despite having just finished work , simply to know how he was doing … that thought alone was enough to make Rayman’s heart skip a beat .

 < I … I don’t know … ‘m just … tired . Been difficult to deal with this , and … > 

He let out a nervous chuckle , trying to keep his trembling voice steady with no avail . 

< … I don’t even know if this CAN be fixed , y’know … ? > 

You remained silent for a moment , before saying something that Rayman really didn’t expect …

< … would you like me to come over to your place ? To keep you company … ?

I perfectly understand if you want to be alone right now , I get it , but - > 

< That’d … that’d be really great , y/n . > 

< Oh - okay , I’ll be there as soon as possible , hopefully the traffic isn’t a nightmare like always … I’ll see you soon ! > 

As the call ended , the kindness of his long time friend made a little smile appear on his exhausted face . 

You were even willing to drive all the way to his lounge , just to be there for him … Rayman could barely believe that someone so selfless and caring could actually exist . 

He sat on the couch after lazily picking up some of the bottles and junk on the floor , staring at the ceiling and just silently waiting for you to arrive …

When he heard the much anticipated knock on the door , he stumbled on the floor , doing his best to keep his balance as he got a hold of the knob and opened it : 

you were there , looking like you had been in quite a rush to get to the lounge as quickly as possible .

< Hey *sigh* Rayman … hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long … > 

He couldn’t help but chuckle a little , as he allowed you to enter his place .

< ‘s alright , you didn’t . Sorry about the mess , by the way … I tried to clean up before you got here but … > 

< That’s okay , don’t worry about it . > 

It was the moment that you entered his place that you realized just how bad this whole thing was : judging by the wine bottles everywhere and the suspicious ( luckily still unopened ) powder on the table , it was clear that being thrown out from his beloved show had destroyed Rayman in more ways than one .

You followed him to the couch , your feet occasionally bumping into the glass bottles , and then sat next to him in silence , listening to the distant sounds of the cars wandering the busy streets below …

You weren’t quite sure of what to say , but after a moment you heard Rayman chuckle …

< Crazy , isn’t it ? Just yesterday everything was normal … just … standing there in the spotlight , discussing the news , nothing out of the norm … then one day you wake up and it’s all gone , all because you tried standing up to some asshole talking shit ‘bout your species … > 

You could see his hands tightening in a fist as he thought back about what the leader of the Niji 6 had said to him .

< You had every right to be upset , Rayman . He’s the one who went out of line , not you … I always did think Red was kind of a douchebag , not gonna lie . > 

He glanced at you , then sighed , one of his hands going through his once well kept blonde hair .

< Hm … well it’s not like that matters , anyway : he won . 

I lost the one thing , the ONE good thing I had going for me … 

I just … I got nothing now . Nothing at all . I … I am nothing . > 

Rayman wheezed , covering his face as the weight of the situation finally begun to crush him …

You stared at him with a worried expression : in all the years you two have known each other , you have never seen him so completely and utterly broken … 

< Rayman , that’s not … > 

< What ? You’re gonna tell me that there’s still something I can do ? 

Y/n , take a good look at me : I’m . A pathetic . Fucking . MESS ! 

Where do I go from here , huh ? What can I even do ?? > 

He stood up , barely able to keep his balance , and you caught his hand before he could fall on the floor … 

As your eyes met , there wasn’t a trace of pity or disgust in your gaze , and Rayman was just … confused by this . 

< I am looking at you , and I gotta tell you I see none of the things you just mentioned . Not one . > 

You helped him get back to the couch , and gently but firmly placed your hands on his shoulders .

You could feel him shaking … 

< You will always have value to me , regardless if Eden sees you as their star or not …

I know that right now it feels like everything is against you , but destroying yourself over this … > 

You glanced at the wine bottles scattered all around the lounge .

< … it’s just not worth it , Rayman . 

I’m sure we can think of something , but right now I just think that you need to get some rest : it’s the middle of the night , and you look exhausted … > 

You could feel him staring at you , and when your eyes met your heart skipped a beat as you realized just how close you were right now … 

< … we … ? > 

< Y … yeah , of course ! I know there isn’t really much I can do , but … I just wanna be there and help you out , it’s frankly the least I could do for - mm … ? > 

Before you could finish talking Rayman leaned forward , and the moment his lips met yours you froze for a few seconds before slowly closing your eyes , giving into the kiss .

You could feel his hands getting a hold of your waist , and when you caressed his hair he let out a soft groan before holding you even closer to him …

After a few minutes that felt like hours , the two of you finally pulled away , catching your breaths while staring into each other’s eyes …

< Y/n … > 

< Rayman … ? > 

He snuggled closer , placing his head against your chest while still holding you in his arms , almost like he was afraid that if he let you go you would vanish .

< Could … could you stay here tonight ? If you want to of course … 

It’s just … being with you … feels nice … you’re … nice … > 

Rayman sounded more and more tired , and it was clear that he was going to pass out from exhaustion any minute now … 

You smiled softly , giving him a kiss on the forehead before lifting him from the couch and walking upstairs to his room . 

He wasn’t the only one who needed some rest …

It had been a long day for both of you .