#even though it's nowhere near valentine's day lol

[blackhairedjjun]

(love)sick

pairing: choi yeonjun x gn reader | genre / tropes: fluff, comfort, valentines themed! | word count: 1.2k | warnings: pet names (baby, love), profanity, mentions of food, getting sick

summary: yeonjun gets sick on valentine's day. you don't mind, as long as you get to spend the day with your beloved.

author's notes: happy valentines day!! i think - it's no longer valentines day in my timezone lol. anyway, i crammed this fic while i was sick myself and after watching yeonjun's make it happen documentary (which also features him getting sick) and somehow the brain cells crossed and produced... this? LOL yeah

(support by reblogging banner by @cafekitsune)

you know that something is wrong when yeonjun calls you and asks to meet up with him at his apartment instead of picking you up from work.

it isn’t the seeming lack of chivalry that bothers you — you like stopping by your boyfriend’s apartment anyway — but the way his voice sounds on the phone. it’s hoarse and thin, and it wasn’t just the patchy cell signal outside your office building making him sound that way. his words themselves were scratchy, as if it takes him some difficulty to get them out. “i’m so sorry, baby,” he says, the word sorry sounding like a groan. “i don’t feel well enough to drive…”

“jjunie, are you okay?”

“i’m fine,” he croaks. he does not sound fine. “just need… to rest a bit. we can move the reservation by… half an hour…”

moments later, you tap your foot now and then on the bus ride from your office to his apartment, the rumbling nowhere near loud enough to drown out the frenzy in your thoughts. yeonjun booked a reservation at a fancy restaurant for valentine’s day, which he apparently had been planning since the two of you got together. you barely managed to wrangle out any hints on what he had in store, but you could tell from the shine in his eyes and his mischievous little giggles that he had something grand and romantic in mind. with the way his voice sounded on the phone, though, he might not be feeling well enough to put any of those plans into motion.

the bus gets to your stop and you practically jump off. half-walking, half-running, you head towards the sleek new apartment building yeonjun calls home, your heartbeat thundering in your ears. it doesn’t stop once you get to the building, or on the elevator ride to his place, or even until you turn the knob on his door. please, please, your thoughts echo, please let my jjunie be okay.

as you enter, you spot on the little table by the hallway a giant box of assorted chocolates and a bouquet of roses and carnations, still in pristine condition. your face grows warm at the sight — you mentioned previously to yeonjun that you wanted some pink flowers along with the traditional red — but it also rattles your nerves. yeonjun wouldn’t just leave these by his apartment, he’d usually hide them from you and wait for the right time to present them...

you walk past the valentine’s gifts. when you reach yeonjun’s bedroom door, you give a quick knock. “jjunie, it’s me…”

there’s a low groan from inside. shit, he sounds worse than you thought. “baby, i… i’m not ready yet…”

“i’m coming in anyway, okay?”

you push the door open and your heart drops at the sight.

the room is balmy. yeonjun is sprawled on his bed, half-dressed, all energy seemingly drained from his form. you gasp and rush to his side; upon closer look, his face is pale and the skin under his eyes is dark. 

“hi, baby…” he rasps. “you look pretty.”

“oh, jjunie…” you reach for him and feel his forehead with your palm. “shit. you’re burning up.”

“i burn for you, baby,” he says with a cough. he tries to be smooth about it with a smirk but it just looks like a lopsided grin to you.

you let out a chuckle but it does little to hide your worries. your hand comes up to his forehead again and you brush aside a few strands of hair from there. his skin burns hot.

“you’re sick, jjunie. i can’t… we can’t go out like this. i’m sorry baby, you need to rest.”

yeonjun’s eyes widen at your words. he forces himself to sit up and lets out a low whine. “but it’s valentine’s day! i planned this for months and—”

“i know, but you’re not well enough to go out. i’m really sorry.”

“no baby, i can make it, i一” cough! cough!

he groans and his body tips toward you. you catch him, arms circling his waist, and he buries his face in your neck. even with the heat radiating from his skin, you can feel the tears pricking at his eyes.

“i’m so sorry, baby…” he chokes back a sob. “i wanted to treat you well today, and…”

you feel his tears flow as yeonjun holds on to you, and your hold on him tightens into a full hug. with him in your arms mourning the end of your valentine’s dinner, his love for you pours out of him completely; the disappointment of the canceled date weighs on him more heavily than his illness, and it sinks into him as he clings to you. you think of the flower bouquet and the chocolate box left in the hallway and imagine how eager he must have been to give them to you and see the look on your face. 

“i’m sorry,” yeonjun whispers again. the tone of his voice makes a dull ache shift in your chest.

“oh, my jjunie,” you coo, and he nuzzles into you at the sound of your voice. “don’t be sorry. we couldn’t have predicted this. and all i care about now is making sure you feel well.”

“but… the dinner…”

“we can always have it some other time, okay? like for our anniversary or for my birthday. or for an ordinary day. it doesn’t have to be on valentine’s as long as i’m with you.”

“i know, but…” 

even when he isn’t fully convinced, yeonjun allows you to set him down on his bed. he reaches out for you and you take his hand, kissing it and placing it on your cheek. the gesture causes him to finally smile, and his fingers trace your cheekbone.

“i love you,” he whispers.

“i love you too, my jjunie.” you lean into his touch. “and you take such good care of me every day. i mean, you planned a whole dinner just for me! that’s amazing.”

yeonjun coughs, but you can see him blushing despite his fever.

“and we’ll have that dinner someday, i promise, but not now.” you place your hand atop his on your cheek; it still burns, but you don’t care. “right now all i want to do is take care of you, like you always do for me. i want to see you get better, i want to stay with you here. and i wouldn’t want to spend my valentine’s day any other way.”

when you finish speaking you bend down to give him one more kiss on the forehead. yeonjun remains speechless for a few moments, simply gazing at you, but his eyes are filled with so much affection and tenderness that you can’t look away. even when he’s sick, he’s the most beautiful man in the world to you — how can he be otherwise when he looks at you like that?”

“you’re… amazing,” he says at last. “please stay…”

your heart swells and you smile at him.

“of course, love.”

you sit on the edge of his bed, reaching for his hand and intertwining your fingers together. yeonjun manages to shift his position to be closer to you, then his arms wrap around your side. he leans his head on you, feeling your warmth. 

“the reservation,” you murmur. “i should cancel...”

your words are interrupted by a groan from yeonjun as he snuggles further into you. you let out a giggle.

“okay, okay. i’ll stay.”

[undertale-writing-times]

🌹 (valentine's day) for any lust variants you want to talk about

-☠

🌹 ROSE - do they like valentines day? have they been confessed to before? have they confessed to anyone before?

Lover: He does! He loves valentine's day. He has been confessed to before but he always rejects them. Normally the monsters only wanted to 'confess' because they had a crush on him from dancing. They didn't know much about him.

Hearts: He thinks it's one of the best holidays! It's his favorite. He has been confessed to once or twice but nowhere near as often as his brother.

Heartbreak: It's still one of his favorite holidays but… it upsets him sometimes. If someone ever tries to confess on that day he will run away. It freaks him out most of the time.

Beau: She loves the holiday! She has been confessed to once but she had to turn them down, sadly, because part of her rules were that she wasn't allowed to date anyone in the underground.

Dreamboat: He has confessed to someone before! It uh didn't work out very well. A few people have tried but he always kinda brushed it off. He doesn't believe in love normally. He doesn't really like valentine's day very much.

Diva: She doesn't really do much for valentine's day and she always takes the gifts that people give her, she gets a ton of them from 'fans' but she's never followed through with any of them. It feels like just another day for her.

Charm: He gets much more than his brother, which he finds a little funny, but they don't really mean much to him. He likes it when people pay attention to him more than give random gifts. He likes the holiday :)

Lavender: Because of her and her brother being nagas, they have never gotten anything for valentine's day.

Streams: He has gotten SO MANY different things in his box from people who had crushes on him. A lot of money mostly and he thinks it's really sweet. He gets confessed to a lot but he doesn't really think that it matters too much. They'll never see him so…? He thinks it's a cute holiday but finds it strange how some people celebrate it.

Social: He also gets some from his fans and has also been confessed to. He always tells them that he can't feel the same but is very flattered! It's one of his favorite holidays though!

Homey: Man no lol. Nobody has ever confessed and he doesn't care about the day. It's just another one for him.

Maiden: It is one of their favorite holidays, but they have never been confessed to, or at least not as long as they remember. They don't really like the idea of it very much anymore.

Vestal: The idea of getting confessed to on valentine's day makes them almost pass out from being so embarrassed! It isn't one of their favorite holidays.

Baby: If he ever gets confessed to, he'll tell the person that he doesn't have time for a relationship. It isn't his favorite holiday, he doesn't even think about it much anymore.

Deary: She really likes it! She hasn't gotten many confessions or gifts cause of Baby being overprotective but she does get some :D it's one of her favorite holidays.

Sweetums: He says that he has gotten a lot of different confessions but he hasn't gotten that many. It used to be his favorite holiday but now valentine's day isn't anymore.

Teddy-Bear: He gets so many, a lot of people think that he's hot and want to be his datemate but he doesn't respect anyone enough to really want to be with them.

Eros: Oh of course he loves it! It's one of his favorite holidays. He's never been confessed to or really given gifts like that but it's still one of his favorites. he likes to see the love of other people.

Aphro: They've never been confessed to and they're pretty happy about that. The idea of being in a relationship has been a little strange. Valentine's day is a fun holiday to watch but not their favorite.

Venus: Not their favorite and they don't remember if they've ever been confessed to but they're sure that they've never confessed to anyone before.

Cuddles: Oh it's his favorite! The reason being most of his partners would shower him in gifts and he loved it! He has confessed a few times and a lot of people confess to him.

Astra: He's uh… he's okay with it. The confessions and giving gifts and stuff gets him really embarrassed.

Alioth: He loves it! It's one of his favorite holidays.

Cupid: He doesn't care for it anymore. It isn't disliked but he doesn't really care much anymore.

Pinks: He has never been confessed to and doesn't know what the holiday is -w-'

Passion: He has been confessed to a few times but… it never felt right. He didn't like it. Valentine's day isn't his favorite holiday either.

Desire: He enjoys it! Yet not really because of the lovey dovey stuff. He likes the free gifts lol.

Strawberry: He doesn't really know what the holiday is but he has been confessed to before! A few times! Funnily.

Beloved: Not for a very long time. It… brings back bad memories so he doesn't really like valentine's day much anymore.

Glitter: Oh X loves valentine's day! X thinks that it is a very fun holiday and enjoys seeing how humans have changed it over the years. X has been confessed to more times than X can remember. Silly.

Diamond: Just like her sibiling! She thinks that it's a very fun holiday and quite exciting! She likes to see how different it is.

Nymph: Ehh it isn't really his favorite holiday. It's cute and all but not his favorite. He has been confessed to a few times but he always gently rejects them.

Fae: Oh He thinks that it's a very enjoyable one. A lot of people order strawberries during that time so it's a nice boost in work. Other than that, he doesn't care much.

[hartwinorlose]

so @mustardprecum and i were talking and we got into Cupid!Eggsy who’s job is to make other people fall in love, but he’s not allowed to fall in love with himself, especially with a human

but he just can’t help himself when he gets Lee and Michelle Unwin together and realizes Lee’s mentor, Harry Hart, is pretty damn appealing. he keeps close tabs on him even though it’s painful because he knows he can’t be with him anyway, but at least he can look, and that’s something

then Lee goes and gets himself killed and Eggsy can’t stand the look on Michelle’s and Harry’s faces

so he breaks one of the ancient laws and brings Lee back to life

and sure, Eggsy gets exiled and his wings get taken away, but Lee and Michelle have never been happier and Eggsy thinks it’s worth it

Eggsy keeps up his habit of watching Harry, forgetting that he isn’t a Cupid anymore, isn’t invisible to humans

and Harry can’t quite feel like moony-eyed young man following him around lately is a threat, but he is extremely curious about him

one day, Harry whisks around a corner and stops just on the other side, waiting for the shadow he’s picked up. sure enough, Eggsy comes strolling right after him, stopping when he sees Harry staring right at him

Eggsy is all “oh, shit” when he realizes he’s completely visible and tries to high-tail it out of there, but Harry grabs him before he can take off, asks him who he is, why he’s been following him, all the standard stuff

and Eggsy is blushing like mad because he doesn’t want to admit that he’s sort of fallen in love with Harry over the years of watching him live his life, but he doesn’t really know what he can say either. so, naturally, he just stammers out something about Harry being well fit and wanting a better look

Harry just stands there for a bit before he has to laugh, because really that was the last thing he’d been expecting. so, being the gentleman he is, he offers to take Eggsy out once, just for fun

Eggsy can’t believe his luck and he agrees immediately because, hey, he’s a Cupid, first dates are kind of His Thing

as it turns out, observing dates as a Cupid and actually being on one are two completely different things and Eggsy makes an absolute fool of himself more than once

Harry is completely charmed

the second date goes much better

[jillianallen14]

Spirk fanfic rec

Some amazing Spirk fanfic to bless your dash because I’m falling in love with this shit all over again (this is like the 10th time this has happened lol):

Entering Orbit:  Jim escapes to Iowa to avoid the media frenzy following the Narada incident, but a late-night miscommunication results in Spock turning up on his front porch; rated m; 30,957 words

Papers in the Roadside:  Non-Starfleet AU. Jim owns a small bar in Chicago, keeps on picking up strays and taking care of everyone no matter how hard it makes his own life. Spock is a journalist writing feature articles for the Chicago Tribune; he depicts the world with uncanny skill, but hides more than one personal drama and is possibly under surveillance from the Vulcan royal family. They meet by accident just before their lives start to spin out of control; rated e; 49,637 words

Take Refuge in What You Know:  AU - Kirk has moved into a apartment/house and wants to get to know his neighbors. He meets his neighbor Spock, a loner who suffers from extreme agoraphobia. Kirk thinks he's beautiful enigma; rated e; 120,334 words

Listen, this is not only my favorite Star Trek fic of all time, it’s also one of my favorite fanfics in general. It’s right up there with Text Talk and The Shoebox Project from the HP fandom, which if you’ve read, you know are incredible and frankly life-changing. And this fanfic changed my life. The description the author gives doesn’t do the beauty of this fic justice. I suffer from agoraphobia and Spock’s depiction as an agoraphobic man was probably the most well-researched, sympathetic, empathetic, caring, realistic portrayal of what it’s like to be agoraphobic that I’ve ever witnessed in fiction. It made me cry like a child because I had never felt so seen and understood. This writer is incredible, and this fic is incredible. I can’t recommend it enough. It’s an AU, which I’m usually pretty wary about, but it barely even feels like an AU. It just feels like Jim and Spock. The author’s understanding of both of their characters’ is perfect, like just a spot-on portrayal of who they are. This fic genuinely helped me accept who I am and helped me understand that I am capable of & deserving of love. If you don’t read any other Star Trek fics (and you def should read more Star Trek fics because they’re amazing), then let this one be the one you read. I dare you not to read it three times in a row like I did.

Observations:  First Officer Spock comments on life aboard the Enterprise and his service under Captain James T. Kirk; rated m; 500,000+ words.

So the author of this fic actually did a thing where they made this fic into two books (similar to what The Shoebox Project authors did many years ago in the HP fandom). They don’t get any money from people buying the books; the cost is just to go towards producing the books. This fic is the equivalent of two LARGE novels. We’re talking 600 pages & up. It’s a huge fic. Now, that being said, I read it in one day. ONE DAY. It’s that good. This is another one of my all-time favorite fics, though not quite as dear to my heart as the one I listed above. It’s focused on AOS, and tbh, I forget that what happens in this book isn’t actually canon. Like it’s so well-told, it just feels like it’s now part of the timeless story of Kirk & Spock. The “professional” Star Trek writers would never be brave enough to do what this author does with Kirk and Spock, though. This fic will make you angry, will make you laugh, will make you cry. It has such a good grasp on every single character. It also shows the love between the crew of the Enterprise, which is always a treat, and it’s beautifully done in this fic. It has a sorta-enemies-to-lovers arc between Spirk and an enemies-to-close-friends arc between Spock and McCoy that is beautifully done and fleshed out. This fic is definitely a journey to go through, and I can’t recommend it enough. It’s extremely slow burn, and you will want to slap both Kirk and Spock (and McCoy) upside the head at certain points lol. 

Of Coffee Beans and Green Tea Leaves:  The progression of a relationship, through Coffee Beans and Green Tea Leaves. Basically, it’s an AU where Kirk works at a coffee shop to pay his way through school, and Spock visits often. rated t; 16,429 words

Love, love, love, this fic. It’s cute, it’s in character. They have kind of a rocky start together, so it’s got a little bit of that Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy i-hated-you-but-now-i-love-you-marry-me vibes to it. I’m a sucker for that, if you haven’t figured that out by now lol. It’s really good, and a really enjoyable read. And it’s not too long, if you’re in the mood for something on the shorter end of things.

 Please Don’t Touch the Vulcans:  The "yes" is out of Jim's mouth before he can think about it. Jim is chipper about having time off for the holidays. He asks everyone if they want to spend time together but sadly, everyone ditches Jim over the holidays because they have plans. McCoy visits his daughter, Nyota visits her family, and everyone splits. Not knowing Spock has feelings for him, Jim doesn't even bother asking if he wants to spend time together figuring he has something to do. Something cute, romantic with the boys spending time with one another and confessions; rated m; 17,690 words

Super cute and has lots of Sarek, which idk about y’all, but I’m always a fan of. Sarek and Jim kind of get to know each other a bit, and it’s cute. Sarek knows about they’re in love before Spock & Kirk know lol. If I remember correctly, there’s also some appearances from everyone’s favorite: Old!Spock! You also get a little bit of jealous and protective Young!Spock. So you’re in for a real treat with this one. 

The Ren shat’var Trilogy:  A split-second decision changes Jim's life forever, as he enters into a bond with Spock in the face of certain torture. Enemies to the Federation emerge from unlikely places, and the command team must contend with unexpected threats, as well as challenges within their own intense relationship. In this three-part series, the Enterprise races across the galaxy to confront the unknown, and Jim and Spock discover the true significance of their unprecedented connection; rated e; 184,411 words

Textual Attraction:  Valentine’s Day does not bring up pleasant memories for Cadet Kirk. But the serendipitous switch-up of his cell phone with a particular Vulcan professor’s will make his day far more interesting –and romantic. Perhaps some new memories can be made! 15,900 words

SO GOOD. Just SO good

Spaceman:  Academy AU. Five times Spock realizes he's attracted to a barista at the academy spaceport, and one time he decides to do something about it. rated t; 3728 words

Short, sweet, funny. You’ll love it.

Subtext: Texting your Vulcan first officer in the middle of the night is never a good idea. Especially when you have an obsessive crush on said Vulcan.The holidays are approaching and Jim is left entirely Spockless aboard the Enterprise when his First takes shore leave on New Vulcan. After some midnight pining, Jim sends a text he instantly regrets. That is, until Spock responds and willingly continues their textual communications to an inevitable conclusion; rated t; 13,032 words

Cute, sweet, funny. It’s a texting fic. I think you’ve probably figured out I love those. This one makes me laugh so fucking hard. Like actually laugh-out-loud-omg-did-i-just-snort kind of funny. Spock is great in this one

All Spock Wants For Christmas:  While Jim is away on a delegation mission, he panics about what to give Spock for Christmas. With help from Bones and Uhura, and in between some spam texting with Spock, Jim realizes he already has the perfect gift. And all it needs is wrapping paper and a bow; rated t; 11,966 words

And here we have another cute, sweet, funny texting fic. Sue me lol

The Morning After:  Jim convinces Spock to take shore leave with him on Risa, hoping the time together will help re-solidify their bond of friendship after some recent tension. Meanwhile, Spock convinces himself he's on Risa for one reason and one reason only, to prevent his wayward captain from getting into trouble. After a passionately illogical night of Romulan Ale and chocolate infused liquor, everything changes when Jim wakes with something other than a hangover filling his head. Something he's sure neither he nor Spock can handle. Because if Jim knows anything for sure, it's that his messed up thoughts belong nowhere near Spock's clean, ordered mind; rated m; 50,381 words

HAHA. This fic fucking cracks me up. You’ve got drunk boys pining over each other & not realizing it. You’ve got accidental marriage. You’ve got bed sharing. It’s great, it’s cute, it’s funny. 

Take This Sinking Boat (And Point It Home):  In which Spock pines, Jim isn’t stupid (except he kind of is), and Christopher Pike has had enough of this bullshit; 6698 words

Pike is great in this one, and it’s super, super funny.

Extracurricular Activities:   Spock returns to the Academy from a tour of duty to find an intriguing cadet captures his attention; rated e; 15,433 words

Veritas: Basically, Kirk and Spock are on trial because the Federation thinks they are emotionally compromised by each other, which is putting the lives of their crew in danger. They have to convince a court they’re not actually in love with each other. They think the claims are bullshit. They think it will be easy to prove that they aren’t in love or emotionally compromised, damn it. It isn’t; rated m; 186,80 words

This one is so, so good. A real gem off of Fanfic.net. I remember it was actually one of the first Spirk fanfics I ever read, and it blew me away. The progression of their relationship is really well-done and interesting. It has star-crossed lovers vibes and has some really emotionally intense moments in it, especially for Spock. 

A Habitual Affection:  Living in 1930s New York with the Vulcan you're secretly in love with is no simple thing. But Jim never liked anything simple. And then, the big snowstorm hit...; rated t; 7998 words

A beautiful TOS fic about one of the gayest episodes of Star Trek. Love this one. 

Atlas:  Between what was and what will be stands James Tiberius Kirk, in all his fractured patchwork glory. Because saving the Federation was only the beginning; rated t; 135,529 words

A beaut. Really great characterization, and the progression of Jim and Spock’s relationship is really well-done.

[rayofsunas]

valentine | diluc [1]

A/n: we’re back with the mini-series for a while and this time with Diluc! I decided to start back off with Diluc because I actually had a plot for him lol. btw, requests are back open!! I still have a few more to write, but I’m definitely happy to accumulate more! stay safe everyone and enjoy!!

Summary: the ever so stoic diluc thought he was being secretive when sending anonymous letters and gifts to you during the week of valentine’s day but turns out everyone in mondstadt knew it was him, though thankfully had tight enough lips to not spill the beans to you. kaeya is of no help, so you go seeking answers yourself.

Parings: Diluc/Fem! Reader (for my other mini-series, there will be some gn ones!)

Warnings: valentines (yes, I’m late, shoot me), fluff

Word count: 1.2k

Diluc Ragnvindr’s heart was on fire. Set so badly ablaze that no amount of cryo or hydro could be used to extinguish it. He was one hundred percent sure that even after the red muscle stopped beating, it would still be burning, nowhere near crisping. 

That’s how badly he was smitten. Twitterpated, The Honorary Knight had joked; a word he’d never heard of, assuming it was from her mysterious world. Yes, he was... twitterpated. Lovestruck. So badly in love, he didn’t know what to do nor how to react.

This was a normal emotion, though, at times of inconvenience, the redhead couldn’t help but feel like it should stay foreign, locked away forever only to be unlocked by a key that he'd throw away. His love for you was so strong, that it paralyzed his being, entirely. 

The tug on his heart every time you spoke soft words to him, moved him well beyond admiration. Your thoughtfulness and leadership towards the younger Knights, even when he had an evident grudge against them all, was something he respected. Despite his obvious distrust in the Knights, you were the one difference, an outcast of sorts in that profession. He could get behind you, accept you as a worthy Knight. You were honorable, respectable, strong. He adored you in a way no one saw coming.  

He wanted to tell you. Tell you about the countless amounts of times the mere thought of you had kept him well awake into the night. How every little thing reminded him of you. How he felt the most uncomfortable, yet warmly welcoming tingles all over every inch of him when you spoke. 

But how could he confess his love to you? He was a lone wolf of sorts, Archons, he wasn’t good with words at all. Not anymore. They were harsh, passive, blunt - what woman could love a man like that... He didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve happiness. Not in the form of love, not in the form of anything, not from you. His duty was to protect Mondstadt, be the savior everyone so badly needed. But he so badly wanted you and the craving deepened every day. 

So, that’s how he found himself sitting in his office one night, quill and ink in front of him, eyes gliding over a blank piece of paper, thinking of all the words he’d wanted to say. This was the week of Valentine's day, surely this could be the only time that made sense in his mind, where he could confess his feelings for you. 

Despite having a few ideas of what to say, he had no idea where to start. He couldn’t just come out and say I love you, especially since he’d be writing the letter anonymously... That would seem weird, he didn’t want to scare you, freak you out so bad that you rejected his letters and decided to throw them away or burn them. That would surely tear his part into hundreds of pieces. 

Unfortunately enough in this situation, he just happened to be a man of very few words, not used to expressing himself romantically. 

He’d never written a love letter, never once had the words I love you slipped from his tongue. Not unless they were directed towards his mother or father. Sadly, he was unsure they both knew how much he loved and respected them, he’d only said those three little words when they were on their way to heaven... So, he guessed that his aloof behavior towards this all made perfect sense. The young master wasn’t well versed in any type of love language; physical, verbal, or anything in between. The only type of love he’d received and given was paternal and maternal. A different type of love, that was a different type of love than right now.

But Diluc was persistent to spew all his thoughts or else he’d be thinking of you until he was on his deathbed. Eventually, he hoped to reveal himself too, that was preferred. But for right now? He’d stay hidden in the shadows, like the Darknight Hero he was. 

Maybe he was terrified. Scared of your possible rejection, scared to be so open and outgoing, scared to put his feelings on the line only to say the wrong thing and push you away.

Diluc wasn’t scared of many things, no, only a few things had been able to shake him to his core and make him feel utterly weak in the knees from fear.

One, his parents' deaths. Two, you and his love for you...

For once, he wishes he was more like his brother, Kaeya. The Cavalry Captain, outgoing, flirtatious and he could win over any woman or man his heart desired. Diluc had to admit, Kaeya never said the wrong thing unless it was straight idiocy and teasing in nature, that’s where he drew the line and went back to disliking him. But Kaeya was perfect for this... He regretted even thinking this, but maybe seeking his little brothers' help would be best. He didn’t even know where to start or if he would sound like a creep. Archons, he did not want to sound like a creep... Definitely, the last thing he wanted.

So yes, the cryo user was perfect for this. One of the only worries of telling his brother his concerns and need of assistance was the fact that the Captain was unpredictable. Kaeya could be loose-lipped when he wanted and tight-lipped when the situation called for it. He truly was the only two-faced man Diluc had ever come across in his entire twenty-two years of living, that embodied that title proudly, without shame. 

But then he truly thought this through... No. It’d be best not to do that, for at least right now. He’d wait a while until he felt utterly trapped and cornered. Then he would seek... guidance. 

The remainder of the night, the pyro user wrote countless letters, had gone through a sizable amount of ink and paper, and his quill was starting to wear thin. But eventually, he settled on a final product. He was the unsurest he’s ever felt, as he cringed at the letter, folded and sealed it tightly. A hue of red and pinks highlighted his cheeks, brighter than any star in the sky.

Archons, why was he tormenting himself like this... Why.

letter one.

I know this may seem odd, coming from a stranger. But I can assure you I am not a creep of any kind. I can’t help but say, I admire your skills in battle; you’re a force to be reckoned with. Please accept these Cecilia’s, I hope they aren’t too much nor are you allergic.

Best wishes.

Now that he thinks of it, he kind of sounded like he was writing to a business partner, maybe even a Knight honorable of recognition... No, he sounded like a child. Goodness, he’d have to work on expressing himself better. Surely, this wouldn’t capture your heart, no. This would completely friendzone him even more!

Unfortunately, though, it was only then that the letter had already been sent off by his falcon, that he realized that by being anonymous, you would have no way to write a reply to him, and if you somehow did, he’d have no way of retrieving it without revealing himself.  

Archons, he was an idiot.

A lovesick idiot.

[🏷] TAGLIST (if you want to be removed from/added to this specific taglist let me know!)

@gladly-olus , @kyquu , @craptainlou , @mintydump , @chscklvr , @irisxiel , @minh0ree , @whatishappinesswhatislove , @rrintarou , @sorenthousand , @cvsmix​ ,

3.3.21, rayofsunas

[azurevi]

Can i have a scenario of Fluff 36 with Ace towards his crush

36. “Because I fell for you, isn’t it obvious?”  with Ace

this is kinda messy? and im aware that white day has already passed ;; but I had fun writing ace lol. hope you like it anon!

Ace finds it so frustrating.

"Thank you, Ace. These are beautiful," you smile, looking down at the bunch of flowers that Ace carefully picked. He asked everywhere for suggestions, seeing as he's never been good at romance. Riddle suggested something traditional like roses while Cater suggested something flashy. Jamil actually had some good idead but they just didn't catch his interest.

I'm only gifting them these flowers because they gave me handmade chocolate on Valentine's day, he tries to convince himself but to no avail. He knows better than anyone that he's going to give you something on White Day no matter what, one to show your gratitude, and two to see what your reaction would be.

To be frank Ace has been in love with you for quite a while now. It started as mindless, stolen glances and the tingling desire to catch your attention, and before he knows it the feeling has grown to become affection. It was hard for him to come to terms with these feelings in the beginning as he's notorious for having embarrassing dating history, but after time proves that it's not just a fleeting obsession he decides to just accept it.

If he's asked what it's about you that he likes, he can go on for days, though he won't act like a lovesick fool in front of anybody. Perhaps it's your easygoingneess, your incessant desire to help others, or your constant understanding. Ace can't pinpoint for sure what it is that made him fall for you. He just realizes how important you are to him one day as if struck by lightning.

Keeping these secrets to himself isn't anywhere near fun though. Ace desperately wants you to reciprocate his feelings and to be able to claim you as his lover, but he's nowhere near good with words. So without many choices he goes with flowers, although they're so cliche and overused. He hoped that you would pick up the hint (receiving flowers on White Day can't be anything simple, right?) and at least recognize him, but he seems to have forgotten how slow you can be.

"But you didn't have to go out of your ways to get me these, you know? I'm sure they're expensive," you say mindlessly. Somehow you completely miss the point and have considered it as platonic gratitude. Irritation boils in Ace's chest. It doesn't help that you look so graceful complimented by the flowers.

It's always been like this, with him dropping hints and you completely ignoring them. He's starting to think that you're doing it on purpose. Perhapd you know fully how he feels towards you and want to let him down, but Ace isn't going to settle with kind of explanation. He's going to hear it directly from you whether you like him or not, even if it means stepping out of his comfort zone.

"…Of course I had to," Ace crosses his arms. "Don't you know that it's White Day?"

"I know that it's a day when you show gratitude. Still, this is way too expensive,"

"The price isn't the main character here, I don't even mind spending that much on you. It's the message behind," Ace frowns, leaning toward you with sharp eyes as he waits for you to gasp in realization. The gasp never comes though. Instead you cock your head to the side and asks the most infuriating question he has ever heard.

"Why?"

"Why-" Ace sighs loudly. Sometimes it really confuses him why he's in love with you, but it's not like he had a say in this. It's hard to admit, but sometimes even your slowness makes his heart jump all over the place. "Can't you see the reason? Did you really not notice all the things I've been doing, all the times I was trying to tell you?"

His words only make you more puzzled. His shoulders slump in defeat. At this point he doesn't even care for embarrassment. He's just going to lay his feelings out here and let you decide its fate.

"Because I fell for you, isn’t it obvious?” 

For the longest time you are quiet, and Ace looke down on the ground in nervousness.

"You...fell for me?" slowly comes your voice, asking for confirmation.

"God, yes. I've been trying to show you for the past few weeks,"

"But why me?"

"What kind of ridiculous question is that?" Ace scratches his head, his face now impossibly red. "I don't have a specific reason. I just like you a lot, end of story. I didn't just buy the flowers to show gratitude. I was trying to tell you my feelings, but you just decided to make all my efforts go to waste,"

"Sorry about that," you laugh cheekily. Upon hearing your chuckle Ace looks up and finds a grin fighting for dominance on your lips. "I just...never really expected it,"

You don't look disgusted or anything hearing that. In fact you seem to be quite flustered. Feeling bold Ace moves into your space once again, this time more confident and sure. "Then will you go on a date with me?"

Smiling behind the charming flowers, you nod enthusiastically, and that's all it takes for butterflies to flutter in his stomach.

[ortiies]

Ok I know you get this a lot because I just kinda speed binged your blog but like, your art is out of this world. I have never used that phrase except in shitty puns or valentines cards until now because I have no idea how else to describe the way your art makes me feel. It’s this warm and fuzzy and poky feeling in my chest. It is so incredibly inspiring, it makes me so like, at peace and happy, but also longing and wishing I could escape into them, and also being jelly because how the heCk did you get so good. That is my question.

How. Lol.

I am an aspiring artist and seeing artists like you makes me want to be even better than I thought I could strive for. But it also scares me cuz I’m turning 18 next year and I’m nowhere near as skilled as you. Do you have any advice or tips or somethin on how you do your stuff?

Thank you for making this world such a beautiful and more positive place with your colors whether you answer this or not though!

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Hey there ! It took me a while to answer but here we go, first of all thank you so much for your kind words about my work !! I'm very happy they make you feel good, that's something I love when looking at artworks and I get this rush of "oh, i wanna be there" Now, I want you to know, I'm 23 today, and I was definitely not drawing like this when I was 18 ! If you reaaaaaaaaaally want to know what i was doing at that age, you can always scroll down the archives of this blog, I started it when I was around 16-17. It has been a slow process, I've been through art school, I learned how to draw backgrounds and characters a piece at a time, and most importantly I found out what I like to do ! I guess, I've been taking the time to feel comfortable with drawing, I got used to it as a medium, until one day I was finally able to pull off a cool illu. Take it one step at a time, you dont have to learn everything all at once, and most importantly find what you like to draw, it will give you a direction and motivation. Also, references are good, especially when it come to backgrounds, you cant know how things work just by imagination: how would you stylize the bark of a tree, if you dont know it looks like in real life ? So this was my two cents advice, take your time and dont stress out about your age, enjoy the act of drawing and the more you do it, the better you get at it ! Good luck :)

[engagemachine]

Hey :) same anon from before, I think thats so cute for their first valentines day as an official couple! I have to ask because you know him best, would he humor her and maybe even do a lil something for her too? Or do you think he'd never be caught dead showing someone affection on that holiday? Idk I just want Taylor happy and I love love Love those beautiful moments when Mr. J loves on her. I live for it. Taylor getting butterflies gives me butterflies lol. Also, I write fanfics myself (nowhere near as amazing as anything youve created of course ) but like if I did a tribute fic does that make you happy? Or do you feel that that kind of makes them out of character? I just don't want to step on your toes or like veer off from the personality and dynamic you have given them and their relationship. I've thought about doing it for so long, If not though I TOTALLY understand! She's yours and I could only hope to capture those two the way you do.

Omg anon... please... this ask just made my entire day. 😍

Okay, first thing, because this excites me the most: YES, you can write a tribute fic and I'd LOVE that. I've got several fics written by friends/other readers lined up in the proverbial queue, however, all of them are scenes that take place in a more "advanced" stage of Taylor and J's relationship, which is why they have not been posted yet. But they're absolutely amazing, and I do not say that lightly. One of my readers (who is new to the Joker and new to writing) writes the Joker better than I do. I swear I read her fic all the time in an effort to try and capture the same essence that she managed to. It's a one-shot told entirely from the Joker's POV (a "missing" scene from JK) and it's just flat-out phenomenal. It's also the darkest thing I've ever read -- darker than anything that even I've written, so I have to preface that story by saying it's not for the faint of heart, and it'll make you hate the Joker (as you should).

And another wonderful and amazing friend of mine is like a machine the way she pumps out fic after fic. She's got several in progress and a couple that have already been finished, and man, I just adore her writing. She really understands both Taylor and the Joker, as well as the ins and outs of their unique dynamic. I've never seen anyone do Taylor justice like this reader has. It's like reading my own writing, which is totally wild!

ANYWAY, all of that is to say that I am more than happy to read a tribute fic -- I just ask that you allow me to read it privately first, if at all possible (and only if has to do with Burn -- if it's a tribute fic for Clockwork or JK, projects that are already finished -- then I have no problem with that being posted straight away). The reasoning for this is that I have a loooot of stuff coming up in Burn, and I don't want to have certain milestones in their relationship "spoiled" for readers before I can reach them in Burn, if that makes sense.

But yes, please, please, pleaaaaase write a fic! Also, you don't even have to share it with others if you don't want to, I was just working under the assumption that you did, but of course you don't have to if that makes you uncomfortable or if you'd just rather keep it private. But do know that my readers would love whatever you have to share, and I have some of the most lovely and supportive readers out there. FOR REAL.)

Okay now back to your Valentine's Day question: the Joker's so volatile, so it's always hard to account for his behavior in any sort of way that's definitive (it just depends on his mood, what he aims to gain from said interaction, etc.) but I think (as he is wont to do) he'd humor her in this particular instance. He's not going out of his way to do anything for her, most likely -- not unless it's something that's going to humiliate her (like, um, buying her something she'd be way too embarrassed to wear or use... if ya catch my drift) -- but he'd definitely be hamming it up for her as she fawns over him and dotes on him. Maybe she's even getting him to watch a romantic movie with her, mostly as an excuse to cuddle on the couch -- but then she chooses the Titanic not realizing she's gonna be sobbing like a baby at the end, and now her make-up's all ruined and she's sad, but at least Mr. J is rubbing her back while she cries into his chest.

She's probably wailing about how she's ruined their romantic night in, and he just pats her back with a chuckle and tells her he can think of a few ways to salvage their "date".

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Resentment Ch. 1 (Ethan x MC)

Summary: After 2 months of not seeing each other, Ethan and Naomi do not have a pleasant reunion.

A/N: So...I’ve been writing this for the past 2 weeks. Open Heart 2 is ripe with angst and untapped drama. Tbh, this is my 5th draft, and I kept deleting and writing, and deleting and re-writing this, and I had to step away multiple times, as this was probably be one of my more draining fics to write. But anyway, if you’re still reading this long winded ass note, thank you lol. And enjoy, as always!

Tags: @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @choicesobsessedd @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @perriewinklenerdie @doroshi-desu @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @lapisreviewsstuff @akacalliope @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @dr-nancy-house @adrian-motherfucking-raines

~v~

Seeing Ethan Ramsey again nearly knocked the wind out of her. It feels like she saw a ghost. But here’s here, at Donahue’s, strolling through the garden as if this is any other night. As if he didn’t disappear off of the face of the earth for 2 months.

Naomi didn’t plan on having such a visceral reaction to seeing him, but she has little to no control over her body these days. Her heart speeds up, beating twice as fast, a cold sweat breaks out, starting at her forehead, and there’s the flip of her stomach and unmistakable taste of bile rising in her throat.

‘Do not throw up,’ she silently begs herself. ‘Do not throw up. Please, keep it together, Valentine.’

The chant doesn’t work, the nausea hitting her hard, like a wave crashing against the shore. She jumps out of her seat, ignoring the looks of confusion from her friends, and makes a beeline to the restroom, pushing past the other patrons at the bar. She barely makes it into a stall before she’s on her knees, emptying the contents of her stomach into a dirty public toilet.

Naomi isn’t sure how long she’s like this, embarrassingly clutching the toilet, but a knock at the stall door breaks her out of her trance. “It’s occupied!”

“It’s Sienna,” the voice on the other side says softly. “Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

The door swings open slowly and Sienna attempts to squeeze into the small space. It’s a tight squeeze, but she manages to make it work.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Naomi mumbles weakly. “You didn’t have to follow me.”

“Yes I did,” Sienna argues. She helps Naomi to her feet and pulls at the roll of cheap toilet paper. She bunches it up and wipes the corner of Naomi’s mouth. “You’re as pale as a ghost.”

“I feel like I’ve just seen one,” Naomi quips back. “Let’s just say I did not expect to see Dr. Ramsey here tonight.”

“You didn’t know he was coming back?” Sienna asks. “I thought you two were close.”

Naomi thought they were close too. But she got ghosted. It was jarring, going from sleeping with Ethan and openly flirting with him, to him being her boss again, to him disappearing and cutting off all communication within a span of 3 days. “I thought we were too.”

“How do you think it’ll be, working with him tomorrow?”

“I have no idea what to expect,” Naomi replies honestly. “Hopefully the rest of the team is nice.”

Sienna lifts Naomi up, helping her stand on her feet again. They exit the stall and Naomi washes her hands furiously like she’s about to perform surgery.

They walk out of the bathroom, Sienna with a protective arm around her friend’s waist. The rest of their friends are now inside, at their usual booth.

They all stare at Naomi, and she hates it. Now they’re probably going to think of her as the weirdo who threw up upon seeing her boss (an ex-lover, though not everyone is privy to that information).

“You just missed the wildest shit,” Bryce says, almost breathless. “Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Thorne nearly got into a fight!”

That was the last thing Naomi expected to hear. “What?”

“Thorne was being a real creep, and he tried to feel up some young girl. He touched her and she broke his hand!” Elijah exclaims. “He got loud and rowdy, he pushed her down, and Ethan came out of nowhere, swooping in like freaking Batman. I thought he was going to snap Thorne’s neck at one point.”

“Where is the girl?” Naomi asks. 

“She ran out of here as soon as she could.”

“I hope she’s okay,” Naomi murmurs, mostly to herself.

“Are you okay?” Bryce asks. “I’ve never seen you get sick before.”

“Whatever virus is fermenting in your body, please keep it away from me,” Jackie says, not even giving Naomi the chance to respond.

“Jackie!” Sienna tsks in annoyance. “Have some compassion.”

“She’s either drunk or it’s the stomach flu,” Jackie says with a shrug. “She’ll survive a little teasing.”

“It’s okay, Sienna,” Naomi insists. She loves her friend’s protective nature, but it really isn’t necessary. “You don’t have to go into mother hen mode.”

“Fine. But I’m making you soup after work tomorrow.”

“Deal.”

Reggie announces last call, and the gang starts talking about their post-bar plans. Be it getting food, going downtown, or just going home. Naomi drowns out the conversation as her eyes settle onto Ethan. His back is turned to her and Naomi notices that he’s the only one left at the bar while Reggie is cleaning up.

“Does last call not apply to you?” Naomi asks, getting his attention.

“Reggie and I go way back. We have an arrangement,” Ethan says simply.

“An arrangement.” Naomi rolls her eyes as she repeats the words. “Is that what you call a friendship?”

“I don’t have friends. But...I wouldn’t mind you joining me if you were so inclined.”

Naomi weighs her options. She can go home and put this night behind her, or she can stay out with Ethan. And actually talk to him.

She turns back to her friends. “You guys go on ahead. I want to check in about tomorrow with Dr. Ramsey.”

She doesn’t believe that excuse for one second. And if her friends don’t believe it either, they don’t say anything. Sienna just tells her to not stay out too late, before they all leave, going their separate ways.

Once they’re gone, Naomi joins Ethan at the bar. She looks at, really looks at him. He’s still the same handsome guy, just more...rugged. He’s much more tan than she remembers, it looks like he’s gained weight—muscle, not fat—and he’s sporting an entirely new look.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a brand new Ethan Ramsey,” she muses.

Ethan looks down at his green jacket, a vast departure from the sweaters and button ups he usually wears.

“This jacket’s been through a lot with me,” he explains, toying with the sleeve.

“I like it.”

She doesn’t miss the way he perks up at the compliment, almost as if he was hoping she’d say something. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Duly noted. And the beard?”

Ethan doesn’t know why he needs her stamp of approval so badly, but the validation she gives him feels nice. He likes to know that she thinks he looks good.

“It looks good on you,” Naomi answers honestly. Ethan scratches the beard, his fingers flying towards it unconsciously at her words. He nods, soaking in her praise.

“I’ve gotten used to it.”

Naomi looks around as an almost awkward silence settles between the two of them. She’s now actively aware of the fact that it’s just the two of them, alone.

“Why don’t we move this outside?” Ethan suggests, some of the tension dissipating. “It’ll be winter before we know it. Might as well enjoy the weather while we can. You want something to drink?”

Naomi’s stomach flips at the mention of alcohol. “You know what I want? A cup of ice water.”

Ethan’s eyebrow quirks up at the answer. They’re in a bar and she wants...water? He shrugs but heads behind the bar, nonetheless. Grabbing a Pilsner glass, he fills it to the top with ice and he also finds a bottle of water. He hands them off to Naomi. “For you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” They make their way outside. It’s so quiet now that everyone is gone. It feels peaceful. Ethan drops down in a chair near the fire pit and Naomi joins.

“I can see why you like it here.”

“Because nobody’s annoying me?” Ethan jokes.

“More or less,” Naomi concedes. “It’s peaceful.” Ethan nods in agreement. “So...how was it, being in the Amazon?”

“It was quite the experience. It kept me on my toes.”

“Fighting an epidemic in a different country sounds...thrilling. And scary. You’re brave for doing it.”

Ethan snorts. Naomi always manages to see the best in him, even when he doesn’t deserve it. “That wasn’t bravery.”

Naomi looks down at her lap. “You didn’t keep in touch. Two whole months without any form of communication seems extreme, don’t you think? Especially after everything that’s happened with us?”

“Everything that happened between us is exactly why I didn’t contact you.”

“192,” Naomi says. 

“Huh?”

“192. That’s how many times I’ve called you in the past 2 months. I also sent 75 texts and 30 emails. You could have responded to at least one of those.”

Hearing the numbers out loud makes Naomi feel ridiculous, like a stalker. And Ethan just feels...awful. He remembers his chest going tight every time he saw her name flash across his screen. He remembers the restraint it took him to not call her back, or reach out in any way. He needed to stay away. It was for the best, for both of them.

“Naomi, if we’re going to work together on the diagnostics team, we need a fresh start. Your professional development is too important to jeopardize it with whatever...what is was that we had.”

Ethan probably would’ve been better off taking this glass of ice water and throwing it in her face. The callousness in his voice chilled her to the core. “That’s how you’d describe it? As ‘whatever’?”

Ethan sighs heavily. Of course his relationship with the younger woman meant something to him, but if he was going to be her boss, they needed boundaries. There had to be a line.

“Pouring my heart out to you on multiple occasions and vice versa, secretly saving our boss’s life, you bringing Mrs. Martinez’s son to my ethics hearing, the sex, it all just culminates to a...whatever. What? Is what we went through just a casual experience in the life of Ethan Ramsey?”

“Of course not, but Naomi, I can’t go down this road with you again. We need to have a reset if things are going to work.”

She doesn’t know why the word ‘reset’ makes her laugh, but it does. She laughs, hard, almost maniacally, until her sides hurt and she can barely breathe. Ethan says nothing, staring at her in confusion.

“You know what, Ethan? Fuck you.”

That catches him off guard. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me loud and clear. Fuck. You. You’re a coward. And a runner. You run at the slightest hint of something being hard, or if you have to face your own emotions and vulnerabilities. You run off, drinking yourself silly and keeping your head in the sand, and then you come waltzing back as if nothing happened, but guess what? Life still happens. There is no reset, no do-overs, no pauses. Time still moves forward.”

Tears prick the corners of her eyes and she wills herself to not cry in front of him. He doesn’t deserve any more of her vulnerability. She doesn’t know why it hurts so much, but it does. The idea of him moving through life as if what they shared was minuscule and insignificant burns. It causes a sharp ache in her chest she didn’t realize she had the capacity to feel.

“While you were in South America, ignoring the almost 400 pieces of correspondence I sent, I was still here, still dealing with shit, still caring about you, worrying about you and your safety every fucking day. I don’t have the luxury of turning my feelings on and off whenever I see fit, and I don’t get to delude myself into thinking I can turn back time.”

How many times are they going to play this game before she realizes she’s always going to be the loser? She and Ethan get close, he rejects her but leaves just enough space and opportunity to keep her hanging on.

Naomi wraps her arms around her midsection and slightly curls into herself. Not even her own embrace is soothing at this point. The rejection stings, and she feels...stupid. Why does she keep holding out hope for Ethan, hoping he’ll want her the same way she wants him? Why does she keep coming back, waiting diligently like a little puppy, nipping at his ankles for the slightest bit of attention? Maybe she’s just a glutton for pain.

“If you want to hit the reset button, you can do it by yourself. I’m not playing that game with you.” Naomi abruptly stands up, clutching onto the back of her chair for stability. “Goodnight.”

Panic settles in his chest. He doesn’t want things with her to end like this, with her hating him. He wants her to stay. He wants to take back everything he just said. “Naomi, I–”

“Save it!” Whatever he’s about to say, whatever line it is that’ll feed her just enough false hope to keep hanging on, she doesn’t want to hear it.

After gathering her belongings, she turns on her heel, looking for the exit. Her entire body is rigid, defensive and ready to strike at any given moment, and she feels like she’s going to throw up again, which is something she truly does not have time for.

She’s fully prepared to walk away from him with whatever shred of dignity she still has, but she stops herself. She turns around, facing Ethan again.

“I called you a lot while you were gone. I left countless voicemails until your mailbox was completely full. Did you listen to any of them?”

“I haven’t listened.” Ethan feels ashamed by the answer, and he refuses to meet her big doe eyes, opting to look at the ground.

Naomi doesn’t dwell on the answer. She shakes off the hurt, and powers through.

“Last Wednesday, at 5:21 am, I called. You obviously didn’t answer, and I left a message. I’ll set the scene for you because I’ll never forget the moment. I was sitting in my bathtub, crying, almost hysterically. It was the type of crying that gets Meryl Streep and Viola Davis Oscar nominations, the kind that makes you feel sick to your stomach. But I live with 3 other people, so I had to sob into a face towel until the worst of it passed. And then I called you. Logically, I knew you probably weren’t going to answer, but I figured one last Hail Mary couldn’t hurt so I did it anyway. 

In the voicemail, I practically begged you to talk to me. To answer at least one of my calls. It was so...desperate. And pitiful. The old Naomi would rather get buried alive than to ever be so emotionally available and needy, but I didn’t care. In that moment, I needed you, I needed solace that I thought only you could give me, but I know now that it won’t happen. You’re way too emotionally stunted and unavailable.”

She inhales, something shaky and full of vulnerability, and every bone in her body is screaming out to just shut the fuck up and turn away.

“But you didn’t answer, you didn’t acknowledge it, and I was just absolutely gutted,” Naomi continues. “Because had you answered that call, or called me back some time that day, I would’ve told you that I’m pregnant.”

With that confession, Naomi visibly deflates. It feels like a crushing weight has been lifted off of her chest.

But Ethan feels the exact opposite. Unable to move, he gapes at Naomi. “You-you’re what?”

“Pregnant. 9 weeks, 5 days. It’s the size of an olive at this point, and before you ask, yes, it’s yours.”

Paternity hadn’t even crossed his mind at this point. He’s still stuck on the fact that she’s pregnant. 

“So while it hurts to know what you want a reset, and to pretend we didn’t share anything, it is also literally impossible to do so,” Naomi says with a humorless chuckle. “But don’t worry, I’ve received the message loud and clear. See you at work tomorrow, Doctor. Oh, and congratulations.”

Ethan watches as she leaves, even though he calls her name, asking her to stay. His chest feels tight like someone is squeezing him from the inside, and he struggles to inhale. The revelation stifles him, and he can’t get his bearings.

Unable to do much else, Ethan falls back into his chair. Despite trying his damnedest to get things back on track, it feels as if he’s made everything so much worse.

[just-mirko]

lavender petals - part 1

MASTERLIST

Mirko x Reader

Angst, Slow-ish burn, fluff, 

WC: 4.1K

MANGA SPOILERS  IN LATER PARTS

  A steady and constant roll of tapping continued outside

where the rain poured down in fleets of cold water. The little drops all

together sounded like thousands of typewriters; the tiny stamps pressing fresh

ink stains into parchment. The storm did not only darken the sky but slowly,

the concrete was dampened into a charcoal shade and the glass windows collected condensation. The scent of petrichor had not reached where I was, but the

second I stepped outside I could already feel it overtaking my senses. have caused me to be

upset, and make me curse the heavens, but today, the rain started just as the

the shop was about to close, only 30 minutes till I would lock the doors and turn

around the little double-sided sign; switching it to “welcome” to “come back

later. I could not anticipate any customers would actively rush to my store in

the terrible weather, so I accepted it as an easy break where I could stay inside

and relax with warm herbal tea. 

            My shoes squeaked beneath me when I turned back to the

service counter. Aromas and floral notes were everywhere I stepped. Even if you

stood still, they still changed. orchids, roses, daisies, and violets all

dancing together in harmony. 

            Once I reached behind the counter, I could see every

corner of the shop in its array of colors that seemed duller than usual from

the lack of sunlight. Nonetheless, they still stood out against the dull pots

and glass vases.  

            ‘I should be done for the day’ I thought to

myself, already having swept the floor, put out the new flowers, and clipped

the old ones before the storm arrived. An overdramatized sigh passed my lips

when I went to sit at the stool next to the register. 

            Sitting behind the register was always slightly

inconvenient, because blocking my view of the entrance to the store was a

large, and I mean large, bouquet of fresh lavender sprigs. They were normally

used as filler plants but had just come in today and I still could not decide

what to do with them. Additionally, I lacked a new arrangement to add them too,

so they were left out to stand alone.

            By far they were the most prominent in the store. Their

sized rivaled all the large wedding table pieces we had. And the smell, though

calming, gave me a headache after being with them all day. 

            It is not like anyone would buy them either. They were not

as easy on the eye as a rose, three times as expensive, and once again,

typically used as filler flowers. 

            I settled on scrolling on my phone to distract myself

from thinking about what to do with them. I did not want to wait too long to

sell them lest they wilt.  

            ‘Oh look, my webtoons updated.’

            Fifteen-minutes passed quickly and mindlessly. Only 15

minutes till I could lock up and go home. The storm still had not relented, and

now, the rain was accompanied by large clashes of thunder and lightning. 

            These days life was quite simple. It was not exceptional

nor terrible, but a mediocre and peaceful existence that brought me the chance

to do what I loved. I had friends I visited occasionally, a small business that

was doing well with the white day just around the corner (an eastern type of

valentine’s day).  But no matter how many

flowers I had, it wouldn’t quell the little part of my heart longing for

something more. 

            “CLASH”

            The lightning what getting closer outside. It got louder

and louder, making me jump in my seat a little. 

            “CLASH”

            The rain slammed into the ground, but something else was

happening as well. Something in the background of sorts. 

            “CRASH”

            A resonating bang that sounded nothing like lightning

erupted nearby. A car alarm blared as well. 

            ‘Could it be a villain?’ I asked myself as I look

over the purple blossoms to see if I could see what was going on from outside

my window. Alas, it must have been a street down. 

            ‘Why would they fight in this type of weather though?’

Villain activity has spiked rapidly in the last few weeks as the League of

Villains had risen to power than out of nowhere disappeared without a trace. Not

to mention the capture of stain had encouraged many of the morally grey

antagonists to step out of the shadows in pursuit of their own type of justice.

Everyone had their own definition. 

            I tried to stay up to date on villain activity but so

much was constantly happening. Three times a week we got a new story. In the

beginning, the attacks seemed petty and selfish. Things like; “3 criminals rob a

local bank” or “Enraged fire-type quirk user burns down workplace” but today,

they were more organized, harder to stop. All the villains were working towards

a greater goal that was easier to see. 

            A little bit ago, one of the most popular quirks inclusive

department’s CEO joined the LOV after an all-out fight. Many were injured. It

was practically a bloodbath. Citizens remember seeing ice and blue fire merge

in giant tornados in the sky. The entire building disintegrated without a

trace. A witness with still in shock commented that she saw a UA student emerging

from the rubble, but that claim was shut down instantly by that student’s very

own teacher. 

            Unease was everywhere. People even began to stop trusting

figures of authority out of fear they might not be who they said. I was not a

target to any kind of villain myself, but who knows if I could become just

another statistic on the news.

            Police sirens came into earshot. 

            I guess it was a criminal after all. Soon enough I would

be able to find a nice little article online detailing everything that happened

with a cover image of an unscathed hero smiling at the camera as if all were

well. How they tried to convince us that all was wel-

            The chime of bells interrupted my thoughts when someone

came through the store door, very close to closing time. 

            When I looked up at them, I completely froze, unknowing

of what to do say, even think. 

            Before me stood… Mirko? Mirko. Mirko the Rabbit Hero. The

number #4 hero. The best female hero. And she was- Injured? 

            She stood with her shoulders rolled back but she was

panting heavily. Her platinum hair dripped water onto the pristine checkerboard

floors I just mopped. Across her, the skin on one of her shoulders was a crimson

slash. The blood that came from it dripped partially into her hair, staining it

slightly; and partially mixed with the water she was absolutely drenched in. She

looked cold in the light hero gear. 

            In her weak state, she still held an air of strength. When

I looked up in obvious shock at her condition, I was met with piercing red eyes

and a smile I would describe as manic on anyone else. 

            “C-can I help you—are you okay?” I stumble out when I

started to panic, realizing that she just fought the cause of all the racket

down the street.         

            My response only looked to entertain her, and she smiled

wider chuckled then pulled her hair over one shoulder: twisting it to ring out

the excess water (and blood).

            “Yea, you do sell flowers, right?” She said. We were

obviously on different pages. She seemed completely relaxed as she was still

bleeding a watered-down red puddle onto the floor. Meanwhile, I was seriously

concerned about her health. Online, I simply assumed that every pro-hero held a

façade. That they were not as cocky, brave, or positive as they seemed once the

cameras were cut. This though was a spitting image of every picture of her I

had seen. Despite that, nothing could have prepared me for this in person-encounter.

            “Y-yes I sell flowers” 

            I frantically scanned across the store for something for

my eyes to latch onto. My fingertips pressed hard against the side of the

resister to the point where my fingertips were turning white and my knuckles

began to cramp. 

            Mirko walked forward. Despite her injuries, she did not

have any limp and strolled casually over to some of the display stands

near the front window. I fidgeted with my finger while I stumbled over to where

she was. Her gaze we currently focused on some white lilies, though she soon

switched to some yellow roses. 

            “What is the, um, the occasion- For the flowers?” The

words tumbled out of my mouth. They felt out of order and out of place. Seeing a

hero in public is a strange thing. As amazing as they are, you always suspect

that there is an underlying threat of danger. You are both drawn to them yet

repelled by the hint. It's always ‘Why would a hero be here.” That wasn’t

the occasion now though. She was just- here for flowers? She was definitely just

off from work and needed a few band-aids; at most, stitches. My mind still had a

rough time thinking over why she so casual. I hoped this doesn’t happen often

for her. 

            Mirko’s fingers paused when she traced the outline of an

imported lily. 

            “A friend of mine got his ass beat up by a walking flamethrower”

The way she said that, so lightheartedly, with a slight smirk on her face, but

sadness in her eyes confused me. 

            “Is he a hero too?” I inquired; taken aback by the lack

of filter.  It had nothing to do with the

flowers, but my curiosity got the best of me. 

            “Hawks.” She shortly stated before turning back towards

me.

            A look of recognition must have crossed my face as she did

not explain any further and just continued. 

            “So…” She crossed her hands over her chest and looked up

towards me (we using Mirko’s canon height today cause she short short lol).  

            “What flowers would be best for ‘get better idiot’” Her

hair was still disheveled and soaking wet but the ethereal glow the rain seemed

to give her face made me want anything but eye contact. I shouldn’t really get

flustered so easily, but when a celebrity built like a Greek goddess steps into

your shop looking like she’s straight out of war…  

            “Well, I wouldn’t be able to make any custom arrangements

today because I’m closing-“I looked down at my watch for the time. “5 minutes

ago, but we have many premade sets and custom vases if you’re interested?”

            I tried to seem chipper and avert my gaze from her hair,

bleeding shoulder, and foot that was insistently tapping on the wet floor, but

in between each word I stole a glace that did not go unnoticed. 

            “That’s okay, I’m fine with a pre-made bouquet.” I

fiddled with my thumbs once more. She was really giving me nothing to work

with. 

            “Any flowers in specific you like?” I asked, grasping for

straws. Mirko’s expression was perfectly neutral and ambiguous. Even if she

gave me a color, I could work off that, but all I had was a name and extra

mopping to do. 

            ‘I wonder if blood will stain my tile’

            What she said next seemed to fit with the personality I

was slowly assembling her. 

            “You guess.” And with that, she turned to look at more

bouquets and potted plants that lined the shelves. 

            The lavender! I thought, finally thinking I had found a

way to get rid of them but realized that may not be well suited as a get well

soon gift. 

            Hawks. Hawks. Hawks. The bird hero. The bird men. Red

feathers, right? 

            Because of the hero’s color pallet, per

se, I was drawn to red roses and yellow daisies, maybe some red and white

lilies. I found an arrangement I thought fit on one of the shelves next to a

window, where it was still raining outside. I carefully picked the flowers up;

their silky petals caressed my hand. Two petals floated down onto the floor as

I relocated them back to the assembly station. 

            “Would you like a vase with this?” I questioned. Her ears

perked towards me, shocking me in the slightest. Of course, it was not unusual,

but with how she seemed to hear me from across the room without turning her

head made me fear that she would hear my heartbeat racing in my chest. This was

a hero. A real-life hero. God, I hope I do not mess this up. 

            “Mmmhnn,” She said, inflecting that meant yes. I walked

near a shelf where we stored them and looked at the variety of glass, plastic,

and even porcelain vases reserved for special occasions. My eye was stuck on a

red one that caught the soft lighting of the store beautifully. I reached up to

grab it and held the cool glass in my hand. With the sleeve of my jacket, I

began to brush off some of the dust, ignoring the mark it left.

            “Ooh, I like that one” I heard from behind me. Quite

startled I jumped, and the vase left my hand, seconds from crashing into the

floor. Before I could blink, Mirko had caught it agilely. 

            “The color is nice,” She said as she turned it over in her

hands, clearly pleased with having shaken me. 

            Honestly, the banter was a nice break from today. I guess

it would not hurt to lighten up a little. 

            “Yea,” I said with a gentle smile. 

            I had almost finished totaling her order and was putting

the flowers in the box to protect from the rain when I looked over at Mirko and

saw her quite intrigued by the lavender practically overtaking my desk. 

            “We just got that lavender in! It's fresh and quite relaxing.”

I hummed to myself, pleased with the wrapping I did on Hawk’s bouquet.

            “How much for them?” She asked turning to me inquisitively.

            “Well lavender isn’t normally sold alone but that’s about

10 arrangements worth” I said pointing to the sheer number of flowers. Upon

the counter, they were more than two feet tall. 

            “So?” She said, resting her elbows upon the table and leaning

in to smell the lavender even more. The ivory ears atop her head sloped

downwards a little more reminding me of a little puppy when they got pet. An

obvious show of their aromatic effects. 

            “Two-hundred, though I could definitely get you a smaller

amount if you would like, they’re sold twenty per bundle just because of how

hard they are to transport and a how delicate they te-“

            “I’ll take them all,” She said with an aggressive smile

and firm shake of her head. There was a switch in her tone like she suddenly

decided she revealed too much of herself to the general public. I did not like

thinking that though. That she saw me as the public. Everyone wants to be

special sometimes.  

            “How was errr- work today?” I asked, clearly insinuating

my concern for her condition.

            A small shadow passed over her face. Her eyes got a

little darker and the corners of her mouth turned down before her typical passionately

a confident smile came back.

            “Nothing I can’t handle” Those smug words were

accompanied by a flourished wink that was embellished her white eyelashes.

            “I heard a crash nearby. Was there a villain?” This time

she did not hesitate to answer. 

            She finished paying and gave me an address to deliver

them to tomorrow. One to a hospital, and one to a home address. I expected a

PO box and assumed her address was not something she just gave away, but that was

not the only thing I was warmly excited about. Instead of signing “Mirko” her

formal hero title on the receipt, She signed her real name, Rumi Usagiyama.

             ---

            The weather was much more considerate this morning. When I

awoke, golden rays filtered light through my lashes into my eyes. The faint

sound of birds chirping and bustling people in the city below faintly reached my

ears. 

            I lived right above my flower shop, making my commute to work

 conveniently. I chose to dress a little bit nicer today, opting for a cream-colored

turtleneck and dark washed jeans instead of my normal gardening attire. Spring

was right around the corner in Musutafu Japan. Winter was leaving and the city

was in the awkward middle state where it's too cold to wear spring clothes but

too sunny to stay in jackets. 

            Since yesterday was Saturday, I had today off, kinda. I

just had a few flower deliveries to complete before I could go back home and lay

on the couch eating watermelon sour patch kids (ichor itself) and reading

terribly done 9k fanfics online. (Wow! Our reader!! Is super!!! Self!!!!

Aware!!!!!) 

            My brain had completely blocked out everything that

happened last night, so when I checked my order list and saw Rumi

written in neat handwriting, my confusion was immense. 

            ‘So, It wasn’t a dream then…’’ huh.”

            I walked downstairs into my store. I saw a few

schoolchildren peeking in the dark windows since there were no lights on to look

at the flowers. I waved to them and then chuckled to myself when they left tiny

little handprints on the glass. Tall buildings could be seen across. A café, a

tattoo shop, a little library, and many small businesses that were nestled right

in the center of town where they got lots of attention. Around the back exist to

the stores were where most of the employees parked. My friend and co-worker had

called in sick this weekend, so it meant I had to do all the deliveries myself.

            I went over to the storage room. A wave of cold rushed

over me and sent tingles down my entire body. This was always kept cold to keep

the flowers alive longer, but always hated retrieving boxes from there. 

            I steadily grabbed the lavender-filled box and stacked

Hawk’s arrangement box on top of it. The white cardboard stood so tall in front

of me when I held them I could barely see when I walked out the back door and

over to my car where I nearly dropped them loading them into my car’s trunk. 

            I clumsily got into the driver’s seat and started the

engine to head to the first address. Hawk’s hospital. Right in the center of

town, it was only 10 minutes when you accounted for traffic.             

            The hospital was the nicest in Mafatsu, with white pillars

and balconies on some patient's rooms. Only the best for heroes. When I got out

of my car and drew near, the building felt like it was swallowing me whole in

its large size. 

            My soft footsteps appeared insignificant with prestigious

doctors and nurses bustling around in choreographed chaos. When I got to the reception

area, a pink-haired nurse with a kind smile greeted me cheerfully. 

            “Hello! How can I help you today?” She began typing before

I even said anything. Maybe a prediction quirk. 

            “Hey, I’m here to drop off flowers from Mirko for Hawks?”

            She nodded in understanding and scanned her eyes over my

body, then the box I was holding, all while typing fluidly into a computer. Finally,

her gaze broke and she looked down at a small printer that made a small sticker

with the words visitor pass in bolded font. 

            “He will be on the top floor, level 60 in room 219. If he

isn’t in his room, just call a nurse with the pager in there, he’s been getting

out a lot recently.” She rolled her eyes in annoyance. 

            “He really just wants to get back to work but whenever he

flies he leaves a trail of blood and feather in his path”

 Her hair swished when she leaned over to give

me the papery sticker. Her fingertips brushed against my palm for a second

longer than platonic before she went back and waved goodbye to me. Her cheeks were tinted slightly pink.

            The encounter made my heart rush but that might just because

it’s the first romantic-ish thing that has happened to me in a while. I mean

she was pretty- but we scarcely talked. My palm still tingled where our hands

touched though. I was so distracted I did not notice when I found myself in Hawk’s

room. 

            I had never delivered anything to a hero before. Should I

just drop them in and leave? My hand rested atop the doorknob questioning how

to do this. The fluorescent hospital lights desaturated everything including my

ability to make cohesive thoughts. 

            Just as I opened the door, I heard a shattering sound,

something collapsing, and then 

            “Wait no shit-“Another thing fell to the ground. “-fuck” I

carefully opened the door. To see Hawk’s the pro hero, clutching his side with

one hand, and holding a sideways IV drip in one hand, but the fluid bag itself

was on the floor, along with some kind of glass and a medical device I couldn’t

identify from the various dents and scratches on it. It did not look like he

noticed me yet, he was much too preoccupied. 

            “Hey should-“ 

            “AH!” He yelled turning towards me. I couldn’t flinch

fast enough before three-foot-long red feathers with murderous intent came

spearing towards my head. Within that instant in closed my eyes prepared to be

dead but when I opened them up, the feathers were hovering just centimeters

away from my skull.

            I shocked me that I was still holding the flower box when

I checked. My eyes were wide as I stood still, jaw open, not a single breath

leaving my mouth. 

            “Are you a new nurse or something?” The feathers remained

there. I gulped before answering, my body felt light, flight, or fight already taking

place. 

            “I’m a- a florist.” I gestured down at the box with my

logo on it, and he seemed to relax a little bit. 

            “Oh.” He replied and the feathers returned to beside him.

He tried to make the IV drip stand back up again, but in a futile attempt he

gave up, just letting it fall to the group beside the other tools. He turned away

from me.

            ‘He is obviously in pain right now’ He faced away just

to hide the scowl and how much he was now clutching his side. 

            He looked over his shoulder “Who sent you?”

            “Mirko” I responded relieve that he was no longer about

to kill me. 

            “Where should I leave the flowers?” 

            “The table next to my bed” I stepped over there. An

assortment of papers where there is messy handwriting that I had no place in

reading. Nonetheless, I caught the words “Touya.” Too bad I didn’t know any Touyas.

I sat the box down and opened it up.

            Luckily with everything that went on, I didn’t destroy any

of the blooms. 

            “Did Mirko say anything about me?” He questioned quickly.

As much as he tried to seem tough, he valued her opinion very much. 

            “Get well soon and all of that, nothing much, she was too

busy teasing me, you know?”

            “Mirko was? Teasing you?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion

before settling into a knowing look. 

            “Ohhhh” He winked. 

            “No no, it's nothing like this I promise I just met her.” 

            “Mmmn k” He didn’t believe me in the slightest. 

            “Just watch out she packs a punch” 

            Hawks walked over to where the flowers were and observed

the arrangement. He had a particular fondness for the red lilies, the same ones

that Mirko liked. He talks about her punch though reminded me of the crashes

and villain attack last night.

            “I hope she’s okay, she seemed pretty beat up last night

after the battle.” 

            “Eh, she recovers inhumanly quick. Something to do with the

rabbit in her.”

            He looks over to me and paused. 

            “What’s your name?”

            “(Y/N)” 

            “(Y/N Hmmm) He mumbled to himself like he was getting

used to the way it sounded. 

            “I can’t imagine this will be our last encounter (Y/N),

It was nice to meet you.”

            I smiled graciously and sighed. 

            “Nice to meet you too.”

[mermaidcashton]

all the pretty girls

author: claire (@mermaidcashton) ship/AU: calum hood/luke hemmings, genderswap!AU prompt: “Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met.”  wordcount: 1519 warnings: swearing, hint of sexual content  dedication: this one is for gay!sos group chat, and all the other wlw 5sos fans 💘 a/n: • so, i wanted wlw!5sos and established relationship, self-indulgent, domestic cuteness and i...think i have achieved that? lol • written for @maluminspace & @h0tsos​ ‘s 5sos fic writers collab (in which we all chose from a list of AU’s and had the above prompt quote to include - i will share the masterlist for you to see everyone elses when it’s finished!) • i do not give permission for this (or any of my writing) to be reposted, by anyone, on this or any other website. please don’t do it! • title from ‘honey’ by kehlani 

all the pretty girls ***

all the pretty girls in the world but i'm in this space with you 

***

“Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met.” “Oh!” Luke gasped, burying her head further into Calum’s shoulder. Calum was bemused. “Haven’t you seen this movie like ten times?” “Fuck,I think I’ve seen this movie ten times.” Calum would be seriously questioning her life choices if she hadn’t taken into account that every time she’d ever watched it, she’d had the hottest woman she’d ever met pressed against her. That seriously balanced the scales of shitty cinema, in Calum’s opinion. 

“It’s just so cute.” Luke sniffed. Calum pretended not to notice her wiping her nose on Calum’s sleeve; she looked cute enough in it to get away with almost anything.

Right now Luke was wearing avocado print pyjama shorts and Calum’s Santa Cruz sweatshirt (despite owning at least 300 separate items of clothing, in Calum’s most conservative estimations), with her blonde hair in a messy bun and the beginnings of a snotty nose. Her eyelashes were glossy with the tears she’d brushed away, and Calum thought she’d still be willing to watch every straight-to-video 00’s rom com ever made as long as it was what Luke wanted. 

“Does this seriously not make you emotional? He gave up Paris for her! Paris, Calum!” Luke whined, craning her neck to look up at Calum from her position under her arm, her lithe body laid across the sofa.  

Calum smirked. “Come on, babe; you know ‘Wall-E’ is the only movie that makes me feel anything.”

Luke rolled her eyes, but giggled all the same before pressing on insistently.  “It’s so romantic, though. Isn’t this the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard?” “No?” Calum scoffed, settling back against the mountain of cushions that seemed to grow every time they went to Ikea. Then it struck her. “Hang on, are you saying that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard?!” 

“Yeah…” Luke let out another dreamy sigh before stilling almost imperceptibly. Oh, shit.

“What?!” Calum said, already looking more indignant than the time Luke had accidentally cheered for Arsenal insead of Liverpool (“Your Liverpool shirt is red, Calum! What the hell is an away kit?! I hate football!”). “Obviously I wasn’t includi-” Luke tried to recover, but Calum was too far gone. “I write the sickest anniversary cards! My last Valentine’s Day card to you? Fuckin’ poetry, Luke! I mean, not literally because that’s lame as fuck, but I am romantic as shit!”

Calum knew that generally speaking, people would consider Luke to be the more romantic in the relationship. Everyone who lived within 5 miles of their apartment had probably heard Luke tell Calum she loved her, or seen her entwine their hands, or pout her lips for a kiss she had to have right that second, at least twice. She was more prone to posting photos of Calum on Instagram with captions that ranged from sweet to thirsty as hell. Every time she attempted to bake for Calum, it would almost always be using a heart-shaped mould or cutter she’d found at the pound shop down the street. And at Calum’s gigs, everyone always knew exactly where she was in the crowd because Luke was yelling about the incredibly sexy bassist with the best basslines in the history of bass at every possible moment. 

However, Calum thought her own brand of romance of just as valid, and Luke seemed to like it. Calum was a fan of surprising Luke with flowers, albeit wild bouquets of sunflowers and daisies rather than roses or peonies (“Wildflowers for my Wildflower.”), and of playing records on vinyl that she thought Luke would like - or that reminded her of her girlfriend - while they ate a dinner Calum had made from scratch because she’d seen a recipe online that she knew Luke would love. Calum also trusted Luke in a way that was rare for her, and lying in the dark of the their bedroom, speaking out loud things she’d never told anyone - childhood memories of her parents messy divorce, her deepest fears, greatest dreams, biggest secrets - whilst her girlfriend rubbed comforting circles over her hip and placed gentle kisses on her shoulder, felt intimate and special in a way Calum hoped Luke felt was romantic. And like she said - her card writing skills were sick.     

Luke sat up on the sofa, freeing herself from underneath Calum’s arm. She clicked the pause button on the remote, dropping it onto the rug as she threw her hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, I take it back; you are the most romantic I only meant in, like, movies and stuff! Obviously you are the most romantic and beautiful and I love you!”

Calum sniffed, trying to keep her sad face on without breaking. “Obviously not, as I don’t have a European city to not go to for you…”  Luke saw her girlfriend’s mouth twitch at the corner. Right. She tucked her long legs underneath herself, settling back on the sofa as she spoke. “Like I said, I take it back - I was wrong.” 

Calum could count on one hand the amount of time she had heard Luke say those three words during their relationship, and was ready to celebrate a substantial victory, until she clocked the smile spreading across Luke’s face that spelled trouble.

Luke continued in a purposely casual voice. “The actual most romantic thing I’ve ever heard was on our third date, when you drank all those daiquiris and told me that one day you were gonna ‘fucking wife me’.” Calum groaned and tried to sink back into the sofa so it could swallow her whole; this plan was thwarted by all the Ikea cushions.

“Shut up, that wasn’t me. You must have me confused with your other girlfriend. I don’t even drink daiquiris.” Luke’s distinctive laugh filled Calum’s ears; she loved that sound (it was in her top 3 sounds that Luke made), but right now she felt so embarrassed at the memory of her nerves getting the better of her in a Tapas restaurant that she couldn’t really enjoy it.

“Maybe not anymore! But Ashton told me how much of the morning after you spent with your head in the toilet, so I guess it makes sense you gave them up.” Luke teased, her blue eyes bright with mischief.

“I hate Ashton.” Calum mumbled, with nowhere near as much heat as was currently in her cheeks.

Luke’s giggles had taken on a unmistakable air of victory; Calum could not let this stand.

“Right, that’s it; we’re watching ‘Pulp Fiction’!” Calum declared, leaning down to feel around on the floor in the dimly lit living room for the remote where Luke had abandoned it. “Noooo!” Luke whined, reaching out to grab Calum’s wrists as she rose in triumph. “Cal!” She pouted as she missed entirely. It had always made Calum laugh when Luke tried to overpower her in any way; she was clumsy, and she wasn’t quick or strong enough to get the jump on Calum, unless she cheated (which she often did). In the past, Calum had hoped Luke wouldn’t notice the way she clenched her thighs together when the blonde would wiggle against her, bite her lip, whine or pant. Inevitably, as their relationship had continued, Luke had become fully aware of the effect she had on Calum, and now employed her sexuality as a weapon against Calum whenever she deemed it necessary. Nowadays, she tended to cut to the chase, as she was now. Calum barely registered the remote being extracted from her slackening grip as Luke held the grey sweatshirt and her cropped pyjama top up above her chin with one hand. She did register Luke’s small but perfectly formed tits, and wondered briefly what they had been talking about. Luke didn’t let her clothes drop back down to cover her breasts until she’d already unpaused the movie and stashed the remote underneath the armrest on her side of the sofa. 

“That...was savage.” Calum deadpanned, shaking her head as she clambered to her feet. Luke put on her most innocent smile (which was not that innocent if you knew her as well as Calum did). “Do you want another drink?” “Yes please, gorgeous.” Luke replied with her eyes still fixed to the screen, her lips moving in the time with the actress on screen with the dodgy bangs. Calum rolled her eyes fondly before making her way to their small kitchen in search of rosé.

She didn’t notice it until she closed the fridge again, but Luke had responded. 

Earlier in the day, Luke had used their alphabet fridge magnets to spell out ‘BUY MORE MILK’. Upon seeing this just after lunch, Calum had immediately checked she had the right letters to arrange the obvious reply; ‘NO FUCK U’, giggling to herself the whole time she’d been doing it. She let out a snort, picking up the personalised wine glasses Michael had gifted them when they moved in together. She set off back towards the living room, idly thinking about what movie she was going to demand they put on when this torture was over.

‘NO U’.

***

my masterlist   • please let me know what you think of wlw!cake and if you would like to see more of them here!

[idreamofdraco]

Draco's rather tall and Ginny's undoubtedly small right? So that 50 types of kiss no 48 + Drinny!

Thanks, Anon! Um, this turned into, like, a real thing, lol. But since this will probably be my only Christmas story this year, I think it’s okay…. Hope you like it.

48. One person has to bend down in order to kiss their partner, who is standing on their tip-toes to reach their partner’s.

Ginny doesn’t remember Malfoy being so tall.

She hasn’t spoken to him in years, not since the first term of her sixth year of Hogwarts, months before Voldemort’s defeat. During detentions with the Carrows, Alecto Carrow would sometimes command Malfoy to restrain Ginny while she was being punished, but she was understandably more focused on the pain of the Cruciatus than his height back then.

She does remember the feel of his fingers encircling her wrists and how tightly he’d held onto her. His grip had disgusted her, frightened her, because it meant she couldn’t dodge the blast of the Unforgivable aimed at her. She also remembers his breath against the top of her head, heavy and hot with his own fear. That fear made more sense if he was tall. He always held her from behind, holding her arms out to the sides to make her a larger target, but if Malfoy’s height exceeded her own, he became a target, too. The Carrows could have missed her and hit Malfoy instead.

These are dark thoughts to have while trapped underneath enchanted mistletoe, but it’s the first place Ginny’s mind wanders when she tries to pass Malfoy in the Atrium and jolts to a stop, as if someone had grabbed her from behind by the waist. She spins around, but Malfoy is two steps away and has a frustrated expression on his face. His hands are nowhere near her body.

He glances up, and Ginny mimics him, horror dawning at the sight of the mistletoe hanging in midair. A festive trap. Ginny seethes.

Ever since Gilderoy Lockhart’s release from the Janus Thickey Ward, he’d wreaked havoc as a custodian in the Magical Maintenance Department of the Ministry. His memories had never been recovered, but the Healers had argued he deserved a new chance at a life outside of the hospital even without them. Magical mistletoe was exactly Lockhart’s MO. He had also been responsible for snow flurries in the lifts, magical windows that depicted the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in the offices of people who “needed a little cheer,” singing valentines, and many more annoying stunts. For someone who had no memory of his former life, he channeled his former passion for obnoxious forms of entertainment with suspicious accuracy.

Malfoy takes a step and grunts when his knee hits a solid, invisible object.

Ginny lifts her arm and gasps when she, too, encounters some sort of barrier that prevents her from leaving him.

They look at each other for the first time since those detentions at Hogwarts. It’s not the first time Ginny has looked at him, however. Malfoy had not returned to Hogwarts after the war and instead had taken a gap year before taking some secret position at the Ministry. No one knew exactly what he did. Some thought he was an Unspeakable, but he didn’t wear the telltale robes of the Department of Mysteries. Some thought he was the Minister’s personal adviser, utilized for some illicit business the public didn’t know about. Others thought he wasn’t employed at all and only walked around the Ministry with an important air so people wouldn’t forget about him.

Whatever his business at the Ministry, Ginny had spotted him around the building on various occasions. Once she’d noticed him the first time, she began noticing him more, until some subconscious part of her seemed attuned to his presence. She always sensed when he was near, and when she looked up, her gaze always landed on him perfectly. This was the first time he’d ever looked back at her, though.

“What a bloody mess,” he says under his breath.

Ginny bristles. “This isn’t my fault.”

“Did I say it was?” he snaps back.

Ginny’s lips press together to keep herself from snarling at him in return. “What do we do now? I’m supposed to be meeting with Harry.” She glances at her watch with a frown. “I was running late, but now I’m definitely late.”

“We wouldn’t want to inconvenience Potter, would we?”

Ginny’s glare is cutting. “I’m the one who’s inconvenienced. I have four performance evaluations to complete, and he’s weasled out of his for over a week. If we don’t complete it today, we’ll have to reschedule for two weeks from now and I have too much to do already without having to pencil in another unnecessary meeting.”

Malfoy’s sneer dissolves into something a little more interested. “Performance evaluations? They put you in charge of people?”

Ginny takes a little step closer and pecks Malfoy’s chest with a blunt finger. “For someone who spends so much time at the Ministry, you don’t know anything about it. I’m the Head of the Auror Office, and I’m too busy to stay trapped here with you.”

His posture straightens at that, his expression turning shrewd. Ginny is now fully aware of how close the enchantment requires them to be to each other and how large Malfoy really is. The top of her head barely meets his shoulder blades. The scrawny, frightened 17-year-old who used to restrain her in detention has filled out to nearly twice his former size. He’s wide enough, muscles thick enough, for Ginny to wonder how it would feel if he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. Rather nice, she thinks. It’s been awhile since anyone embraced her to her satisfaction.

She shakes her head, trying to dislodge those dangerous thoughts, those wild feelings. This is a man who held her still while Death Eaters cast Unforgivables at her. This is an attempted murderer. This is a man who chose the side of bigotry and blood supremacy over basic human decency. Maybe that had been ten years ago, but did people change that much, even in a whole decade?

“What do you do, anyway?” Ginny asks, her thoughts circling around to undefined suspicion.

Malfoy takes a step closer to her, and their chests nearly meet. If either of them took a deep breath, they’d be touching. He lowers his head and Ginny instinctively tilts her chin up to better reach him.

“We missed our opportunity to escape, and now we have an audience,” he says instead of answering her question.

His breath is soft against her cheek and her ear. Warm. His voice sends a shiver down her spine. It takes several moments for Ginny to look around them, and then she scowls even as her face heats up. A crowd has indeed gathered. Several people are tittering and pointing in amusement. Some look scandalized. All of them are curious to see what she and the infamously mythical Malfoy will do.

Her head snaps back to him. “You know what we have to do.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re willing?” she says skeptically.

“Oh yes.”

The skepticism blooms into disbelief, and the heat that rose up to Ginny’s face when she noticed their audience spreads further. Her entire body is warm now, bordering on hot. Her skin erupts in goosebumps and feels so sensitive, she’s aware of all the fabric draping her body, as if weights had been sewn into the hem of her robes.

“Do it, then.” The words come out breathlessly. They sound like a whisper between them, a secret meant only for his ears, though she didn’t intend for them to sound that way.

Malfoy takes one more step so that the toes of their shoes touch. It’s strangely intimate though Ginny can’t feel it. But not as intimate as when he grasps the sides of her waist and pulls her closer. Chest to chest. Breath to breath.

It seems like he has to bend down so far to reach her, so Ginny rises onto her tip-toes to help him. The sudden movement makes their mouths collide painfully, lips a little bruised, teeth stinging. But Ginny only takes a moment to recover before she’s got her fingers buried in the nape of his neck to tug him back down to her. He’s so tall, her body bows toward him, and his hands at her waist slide around to her back, pressing her fully against him as his mouth devours hers in an unnecessarily intimate kiss.

Ginny doesn’t think it’s unnecessary, though. She’s thinking that his arms feel just as good as she hoped they would–better, even–especially when she grunts into his mouth and he squeezes her even tighter, exactly the way she loves. She’s thinking that his mouth is purposeful, almost as if he’d noticed her around the Ministry, too, and wondered how she’d feel in his arms….

She doesn’t think any more after that until a loud burst of hoots and cheering interrupts the kiss, sending them spinning away from each other at the same time, the enchantment broken.

Ginny’s face is beet red as she meets the eyes of their audience and then turns back to Malfoy, whose own cheeks are rather pink and whose eyes are unmistakably glassy. They’re both panting, trying to reclaim their breath, and something inside Ginny breaks apart and melds back together.

Malfoy. Hmm. Maybe?

Yes.

He’s gone without a word, and Ginny is too stunned to follow.

“Ginny?”

She turns and Harry is at her side, his brows drawn together in concern or consternation, she’s not sure which. “I came looking for you when you didn’t show up for our meeting. Are you alright?” He tacks the question on at the end most likely because of the dazed expression on Ginny’s face.

She waves him off and straightens her robes. “No need to meet anymore. You passed your evaluation with flying colors. Don’t bother me for the rest of the day.”

She nearly runs back to Auror Headquarters, partially afraid she’ll run into Malfoy again but mostly hoping for it. Once she’s fully ensconced inside her office, she takes a seat behind her desk, one hand coming up to mindlessly stroke her lips.

She realizes she’s lost track of time reliving her memories of the kiss when a knock at her door signals her next appointment.

Even as she goes through the motions of meeting after meeting, keeping her mind engaged with Auror matters, there’s a tiny part of her brain that is fixated on Malfoy.

Wondering how she can become trapped under the mistletoe with him again.

___

Feel free to send me a number and a pairing for a kiss prompt!

I can’t guarantee that I’ll write any more, but I’ll have more time in a couple weeks, and who knows what will inspire me?

Unavailable numbers are 2, 3, 5, 10, 14, 15, 16, 22, 42, 48.

[pangtasias-atelier]

Master Turned Pet

So this C/u Alt/er idea just came out of nowhere and I really wanted to act upon it before my motivation went away. So here’s a 3k fic that doesn’t necessarily pertain the most to wg but it also was nice not having that be the main thing.

This was meant to be kinda dark but all these ideas I have all vanish once I try to type them and then I get grossed out anjdsifn. So the only really dark thing is physical harm/abuse though it’s not graphic since I can’t handle blood lol

While I do like copying F/G/O’s style by having the master not really speak, it kinda became meh as this went on to the wg portion but still enjoyed it lol

Talking about F/G/O with a friend who doesn’t know about this blog, and the homophobia of Da/vid’s Valentine scene being different for male masters, so maybe expect that in the next week or 2? Even though I’m pretty sure like none of you play F/G/O 

I wish C/u Al/ter got a rate up, but he never does.... At least En/ki/du came to my Ch/al/dea

________________

"What?" Eyes narrowed, Cu nearly recoils from his master's body leaning against his arm. A pathetic, useless 'thank you' barely uttered before his master's tired breaths sound out, Cu lets him rest against him, his master's bloodied bandages slightly maring his own clothes.

A small, wacky singularity cleared before it could grow into anything concerning, his master had been dragged into it. His master too kind, a tired smile on his face as he steps into each consuming battle asked of him, bit by bit of himself getting consumed, Cu was at least willing to ensure to stay by his side. No other servant wishing to undergo such idiotic nonsense for a singularity, Cu grumbled and complained, but followed nonetheless. His master's reassurances that he could indeed stay, Cu ignored them under the pretense of getting to fight and kill. 

And he enjoyed just that. Before any more childish activity could drag on, he had murdered all other servants. His master's wishes to at least reason with the others despite the nonsense ignored, the singularity was proving a breeze with brute force. Until he had reached the true culprit. No one to aid him, he had been foolish, caught off guard. Nearly killed himself, his master had to use a command spell to heal him.

His last command spell. The other two already wasted on sentimentality, his master not wishing for him to disappear in other singularities despite several other servants by his side.

Lifting his master into his arms, the task easy when he doesn't resist, too exhausted to nutter anything past an annoyed groan, Cu stares at his face. Face reaching its serene state as it always does once a singularity reaches its end, Cu stares at the way his master smiles at him, his eyes closing. His master's breathing slowly calms down. The sight enjoyable, all of his master's expressions delightful in some way, he can't help but wish to see his face strain, his master's worried face as he yells in concern for his servants always a sight to laugh at. His pathetic whimpers whenever blood gets drawn, the humans in each singularity so incredibly delicate against servants and threats to humanity. The way his face strains with exhaustion at the end of each day, more burdening work seemingly piling up each day despite his prior commending work. The shy, embarrassed way his master blushes, his laughter attempting to pass it off. His tears that seem to occur at random outbursts, everything too much.

Each expression so wonderful to him, he can't wish but to see more. The blood of a warrior pulsing through his veins, he can't help but yearn for less savory tactics, even fighting and killing appearing boring with his master beside him.

Cu stares at the way his sweat seems to line his face, his hair stuck to his forehead. Brushing a bit away, his master even leans into the embrace. Perhaps he's overstepping his role as a weapon, but perhaps it's worth it. 

It's worth it when his master is an absolute idiot. 

The singularity near its collapse, his master had just obtained the holy grail. Clenching it in his hand, fingers wrapped tightly around it, Cu smiles as his master whimpers. Ignoring his lance, the weapon dropped the floor, he wraps his own fingers around the holy Grail stealing it out of his hands. 

Voices coming from the communicator, that shield servant who he still hasn't bothered learning her name concerned over his master, Cu ignores her, instead leaning over his master. Some more pathetic whimpering coming out of him as he struggles in Cu's grip, Cu holds him down, the effort minimal. 

"Guess I was a fool for counting on one of these. But now," Seizing it in his hands, he laughs, his whole body reveling in the motion. His current desires being known, the singularity remains. Chaldea losing contact, their obnoxious concerns die out. Cu basks in the near silence, the pleasant strained breaths from his exhausted master sounding divine to his ears. No sense in being gentle, he lugs him over his shoulder, his master letting out an 'oof' as his stomach meets Cu's rough shoulder.

"I'm sure you'll grow to love our time together, master" Hands pushing against him, Cu ignores them, simply making his way to the enemy's castle, the entire area empty with all of them now dead. 

Calmly making his way, Cu not willing to visibly show his enjoyment at his plan coming to fruition, he runs his tongue over his teeth, the sharp instruments nearly drawing blood. His master's pathetic struggles ceasing, he ignores it. A couple of minutes passing by, the looming castle draws nearer. The fauna unchanging, passing by tree after tree, the entire place is repetitive, no real distinctive locations. 

The peace ends up disturbed, his master letting out a large sigh. Legs and arms thrashing about, his bandages slowly come undone. The act unable to harm him, Cu laughs at him, the sight pleasurable. Hauling his master further, Cu's smile dwindles as the thrashing lowers in intensity but continues. Some blood seeping onto his shoulder, Cu stops in his tracks.

Lifting his master up and placing him on his feet, Cu stares at him. His master barely able to even stand on his own two feet, he stumbles. 

"Away from me," Cu glumly thinks,his hand tightening over his spear. Placing both hands on his master's shoulders, keeping him in place, Cu stares at him. Then at the blood seeping through his bandages. Some pleas and questions escaping his master's hoarse throat, Cu's hands land on his master's cheek. Grinning down at him, his hands roam over his master, both traveling down. His master refusing the entire time, Cu's right hand rests at his torso; his left hand places itself between his collarbone. Left hand traveling up, Cu expectantly watches his master's face.

And then he squeezes, his fingers easily wrapping around his throat. 

The weight insignificant, he lifts his master in the air, his master's feet dangling and kicking in the air. His master's hands wrap around his arm. Nails digging into him, he clenches tighter. Small chokes escaping as he attempts to breath, Cu brings his master closer. 

"Don't make me have to hurt you," Lapping up the few tears that come out, dehydration taking a hold of his master as well, Cu eases his grip. 

An inch given, his master attempts to take a foot, kicking Cu square in the stomach. 

A human unable to harm a servant, Cu laughs at the attempt, his master's attempts at living so wonderful.

"I've missed this side of you," Enough air allowed, Cu tightens his grip once more. Oh to just squeeze even a bit tighter, to see his even more pleaful eyes, probably begging him and telling him where went all of his humanity. But that would just forfeit his master's life, and why waste all the time they have together to just end it so abruptly? So instead, he shoves him against a tree, some crack sounding from somewhere. 

The tree unharmed, then that means he probably broke something of his master's. Cu shrugs, his master is still alive; that's better than what Medb would have done. She'd have killed anyone by now. 

"I miss America; back when you'd struggled so much just to even run away from me," Cu whispers in his ear. "And I would have killed you, but even that damn mage knew you were going to be nothing but another body on my lance," Dropping him, his master raggedly falling to the floor, Cu crouches down. Coughing as he attempts to breath, his master keeps his head down. Hands reaching towards the bandages, he rewraps them, the trickle of blood stopping. "You can't even fight, you're not a warrior, yet you always rushed in to help. And I wanted nothing more to see you gutted," Silently drawing his spear, Cu places the tip on his master's stomach. No more words offered, he stares at his master, his face downturned. Struggling to even lift his head, dirtied sweat mats his pale face. Barely able to breath, to even hold consciousness, he still stares back at Cu. Despite his bravado, Cu can still see the fear. Everyone's fear of their death arriving. Always too soon, always wondering why me. Cupping his master's chin, Cu lightly applies some pressure. A whimper belying his bravery, Cu smiles as he tosses his lance.

"Good," His master like a cockroach, so damn resilient and ever struggling, that struggling led to him saving humanity. And that struggling would let him live again, not that he was actually in danger.

Making sure that the bandages are properly tightened, the activity foreign yet not unwelcome, Cu grabs his master's wrist. 

"Now walk," Letting go, he laughs as his master's feet crumble underneath him, a face full of dirt meeting his face. Reaching down and yanking him up by the wrist, Cu drags him behind him, his master heavily breathing to even stand, let alone walk. 

Occasionally tugging at him to hurry up, Cu kicks at the door to open it, the door easily giving way. 

Perhaps having his fill for the day, Cu lifts him up. Thoughts of acting like Medb quickly thrown out of his head, Cu stares down at his master. If he is, then so be it, at least it's with one human, and he'll make sure to just break them enough to where it's fun. 

Exhaustion tearing away at his master, it outweighs the pain, falling asleep in Cu's arms. Heading towards the King's Chambers, Cu places his master at the bed. Double checking his bandages, he readjusts them again. 

A grumble escaping his master's stomach, hunger gnawing at him from the tiring day, Cu tsks. Heading off, his tail drags on the floor. 

The place bathed in silence, the sound of his slow, heavy footsteps fill the area. Trudging along, he makes short time to his destination, a village. 

Everyone wary of him before, his master barely enough to placate them all, the sight of a bloody Cu alone is enough to cause most of them to vacate the premises, doors to homes slammed shut. 

Stalls and carts left unattended, he simply swipes at them, grabbing it and lugging it.

Those brave enough to remain outside do so, staring at him even. He ignores it, all pathetic civilians, the bloodshed would be nothing more than a quick activity. One with little enjoyment derived from it. He'll get plenty of enjoyment once Chaldea begins to make their move, masters from different areas possibly coming to repair this singularity. Or perhaps the counter force will act again. Not like it matters, he'll kill all of them, grail or no Grail in hand. He had nearly done so back in America, no master to aid him, calling Medb anything more than a nuisance would be too kind for her he feels. And with his master perfect for supplying mana, he has nothing to fear. 

No one bothering to stop him, all too busy cowering, Cu makes it back to the castle with zero issues. The human body so damn frail, Cu grumbles as he brings the food to the kitchen. Rushing through it, the meat close to raw on the inside and burnt on the outside, he shrugs as he continues cooking some more. No seasoning offered besides grabbing what's there at random, Cu calls it. Frowning from the effort of cooking it, the chore unlike him anymore, he carries it up. 

His master still asleep, shallow breaths struggling past him as his chest barely rises into the air, Cu wastes no time. Another crunch sounding as he lifts him up and slams his back against the headboard, the technique wakes him up perfectly. A coughing fit ensuing, his master clutches his stomach with his other hand. Body aching, he rests against the headboard, any stability appreciated. 

"Eat," Standing to the side, arms crossed against his chest, Cu glares at his master. Cautious, his master picks at the nearly charred food. Hesitation taking hold of his body, Cu takes a hold of his head. 

"You will do as I say," Yanking his hair, Cu grabs the food with his bare hands. Shoving it into his master's mouth, he holds his hand over his mouth, the food slowly getting chewed. "I can't have you dying on me yet," Cu teases, another handful getting shoved straight to his master's mouth. 

Only allotting just enough time for his master to swallow the last bit, Cu always shoves in another piece, the pained muffled struggles reaching his ears, the sounds egging him on. His master trying to move his face away, Cu tugs harder. His master's breathing labored, Cu licks his lips; the pain nothing compared to just beating him senseless, seeing the discomfort and heavy breaths is a different joy. A much appreciated joy. 

His master's hands pushing at him, he twists them. So close to just snapping them off, the desire burning in his heart, he resists. Point crossed, his master remains motionless, Cu resuming.

Each next handful is met with more resistance than the last, his master slowly chewing. Hands moving to rub his stuffed stomach, Cu moves them out of the way, not wishing for any relief. 

The food eventually crammed down his master's gullet, his face is strained as he shakily rubs his stomach. Juices rest on his lips, the trickles dribbling down. Cu pokes at the small distended bump for a stomach. Adding a touch of pressure, he glances at his master's whimper, eyes shut tight. Dragging him into his lap, Cu holds him tight in his embrace, both sitting at the edge of the bed. 

Both hands on his master's stomach, Cu pushes down on it. His master nearly hurling, he brings his hands to his mouth, swallowing the bile that threatens to spill.

"So precious," Cu lets out, lifting his master's hands and pressing down on his stomach again. The sight no longer obscured, he smiles at the scene, his master always so close to losing the contents of his meal.

Finding a different way to enjoy his master's expressions, the wheels in Cu's brain begin to turn. 

His master falling asleep soon after, his gurgling stomach nothing compared to his exhaustion, Cu places him back down on the bed. Chaldean uniform snug on his master, Cu tears the shirt. Pale skin rising with each breath, Cu rubs it, the soft yet taut skin pleasant.

His master squirming under the touch, sleep still taking him captive, Cu removes his hand. 

Warriors going to flock to him eventually, he might as well enjoy this as much as he can. Not like his master can stop him anymore. 

Standing up, he hesitates by the door. Glancing back, he smiles at his master's frown, a nightmare seemingly taking place. 

Already preparing his master's next meal, Cu swiftly grabs all the ingredients. The process as hurried as earlier, he quickly begins cooking again, eager to stuff him.

And stuff him he does. 

The counter force taking a while to respond, Cu focuses his efforts on his master. No way to fight back, the task is easy. A little bruising here and there to control him, limbs bent dangerously close to ways they should never bend, that's all he needs, the tactic keeping his master under control. Food always plentiful, Cu always forces it down his mouth. Mouth crammed with food, Cu snickers at the way his master struggles to even speak or complain. Stomach continuously taut, simple jabs nearly does him in, his master's eyes shut. 

Cu disregards any notion of ending or quitting, the fun granted to him far too pleasurable. Overfed like cattle, his master nothing more than such a thing, Cu pokes and tugs at each new curve that adorns his master as the weight sticks to his frame. Stomach gaining a small sliver, the insignificant weight barely noticeable before it grows even further with constant stuffings. A round potbelly great for shaking after a binge, his master nauseous. Barely developed love handles, both budding armrests a violet hue from Cu's incessant pinches. Moobs that are nothing more than markers signifying the beginning of something much greater. Chunky arms with hanging flab, the areas much more enjoyable to yank and pull to shut his master up. Widened thighs cushioned from adipose. 

The effects on his master's body memorizing, he had no choice but to see it through. With all the time in the world, he was happy to see it through.

The world's counter force inevitably summoning some servants to stop him, the task was simple. Masterless servants stood no task against him. the fun only truly began once Chaldea managed to send in his master's own servants. 

Despite being outnumbered and outwitted numerous times, they were still outmatched, all falling by his hands. 

Another batch just slain, Cu smiles as he rushes back to his room. The grueling fight only invigorated him, his body screaming for more fighting, for more blood. The singularity, containing only himself, his master, and frightened civilians, punishing his master would have to suffice. Another servant caught in the act of aiding his master's, Cu throws his spear. Abdomen gutted through, the spear lodges them in the wall, unable to act as they fade away. 

His master staring at his defeated servant, Cu cups his chin. Some resistant met, Cu glares before using his other hand. Both now needed, his master's attention snaps to him as he feels both hands on his neck. 

"Good," Lesson learned, Cu goes easy, his hands wringing his master's neck for only a few seconds this time. His master coughing, Cu becomes entranced with the way his fat shakes from it. His master ballooning perfectly, Cu made sure to make him massive. 

A gut sagging onto his thighs and the bed, the fleshy mound is the perfect punching bag. Love handles overflowing, they droop down as well, the piles of blubber merging with his master's multiple rolls. Breasts plentiful, they rest upon the mountain that is his stomach. Arms and thighs nearly unused at this point, Cu forbidding it, the appendages are swaddled with fat, the large cylindrical limbs containing no definition like they used to. 

His master forced to sit on his legs the past hour, his crushing weight making it hard to do so, Cu urges him up. Fat shifting as the bed groans, Cu stands aside. His master struggles, breaks needed to regain energy. Arms quivering as they push against the bed, his master's whimpers delight his ears. 

Sitting at the edge of the bed, his master rests his hands on his stomach, breathing loudly for air. Feet touching the ground, he remains seated.

"Stand up," Cu commands. Unobeyed, Cu grabs his master and stands him up himself. 

Legs asleep, his master crumples to the floor. Fat squished against the tiling, he pushes himself. A boot stops his attempt. 

Head kicked back down to the floor, Cu rests his foot on his master's head. The sensation not foreign, the mental crunch of a skull cracking underneath his weight nearly brings him to do the same to his master. Removing his boot, his master doesn't move. 

"This is a warm up, pet," Circling his master, Cu keeps his head high. "Soon, it'll be reality where you can't walk," Sitting on the bed, Cu grins. "Now get up," 

His master attempting just that, Cu laughs as his master's asleep legs fail him once more. Brought back down to the floor again and again, Cu simply watches. 

"I'm waiting," Cu not a patient man, the warning sends his master in a frenzy. Each trial of standing up failing, he instead crawls, Cu's wrath worrying. Closer to Cu, he reaches for the bed, leverage to stand up. A hand on his head stops him. 

Cu's eyes wide open, he readjusts them, both squinting at his master. "I like your idea, pet," A collar materializing, Cu wraps it around his master's neck. Standing up, he yanks it, his master falling to the floor. 

"I'll enjoy this while you can still move," Collar constantly yanked, Cu leads his master to the kitchen. "I'll make sure my pet never goes hungry," Cu growls, smirking as his master struggles to keep up, already tired. The image of him stuck on the floor, stomach so massive that his arms and legs can no longer touch the tiles spurs him on; no rest for the wicked.

[purplesurveys]

746

What are some of your favorite cities you've been to? Locally, I loved Sagada, Vigan, and Basco. Outside of the country, I really enjoyed Bali and Shanghai. Would you allow your children to date prior to 16? (assuming you want any) I wouldn’t stop them but I suppose I’d watch over them more and have more rules while they’re still under 16, like no overnights at their SO’s place or that they have to be home by a certain time. Did you ever go through a phase where you thought guys in bands were 'hot?' Hah yep. I grew up during the pop punk/alternative rock era man, where most prepubescent girls were gaga over people like Stephen Gomez from The Summer Set or Jack Barakat of All Time Low. What's something about adult life you were never warned of or prepared for? The extent of being independent, like the sheer amount of bills to pay, how to check if the gas in your kitchen is doing fine, etc. I panic ever so slightly more day by day because I still don’t know how to cook anything and that’s literally Basic Adult Life Skill #1. Did your parents teach you proper table manners when you were growing up? Yes. They both work in hospitality management so stuff like that has been taught to me from a very young age. I can still vividly remember my mom teaching me how to eat pasta and soup properly or when she told me what it means when a bunch of spoons and forks of different sizes are laid out in front of me.

What was the last thing you baked? Chocolate chip cookies, but that was nearly two years ago.  Do you live more than 5 hours away from the nearest international border? Yeah, if you swam all the way there lmao. Kidding but uhhh I don’t – at least I don’t think so. The countries nearest us are pretty...nearby and if you took a boat you’ll probably get there in a couple of hours. Does your town have a farmer's market? No. I think the ones in Cubao are the closest one. What's the westernmost point you've been to? I’m not so sure, I’ve only been around Southeast and East Asia. Strictly speaking I think it has to be Malaysia, but that’s nowhere near the west haha. What was the last restaurant you made a reservation at? Gab and I never really get to have dates as fancy as this. We tried to book a reservation at Barcino once for Valentine’s Day, but they told us no precisely because they weren’t taking reservations for that day. When did you last feel lonely? This afternoon. I always start feeling a tad bit lonely during the afternoons which a nap can often fix. Can you easily tell when others are masking their true emotions? Not always. Some people are good at masking. How often do you wash your car? I don’t. My mom is so particular about how every single item in the house must be cleaned a certain way, and no matter how hard I try to imitate her methods they’re almost always wrong in her eyes so I didn’t even try with my car anymore. I don’t think I wanna hear “you didn’t scrub right” “you missed a spot” “did you even clean the car?” especially after trying my best. When did you last lend money to a friend? It was years ago when I’d lend money to Gab so she can put gas in her car or book a Grab/Uber. Now it’s the other way around, hahaha. Which app on your phone do you tend to get the most notifications from? Facebook. Messenger is almost always active since it’s the most popular chat app where I live. Do you own a Dutch oven? If so, what was the last thing you cooked in it? We probably do but it’s most likely one of my mom’s prized kitchenware that’s always hidden away and never used unless we have important visitors lol. Do you find it easy to put yourself in somebody else's shoes? No, I don’t think you can truly understand what someone with difficulties is exactly going through. What I am prone to be though is feeling sensitive and when someone is having a tough time, I do usually feel sad for them. Sometimes I’ll simply cry thinking about what they’re going through. What is currently on your kitchen table? We have one main counter and on it are my parents’ coffee maker, the water dispenser, the rack for our plates and glasses, mug hanger, and utensil holder. What is your favorite time period in history to learn about? Ooooh I really like history though. I don’t think I’ve ever found myself bored reading about a certain era. How old were you when you met your current best friend? I was 7 when I met the first one, and 13 when I met the other. Have you ever kissed a smoker? Yep but I’ve never liked kissing her after smoking. What is the minimum age to obtain a driver's license in your state/country? 18. ^ Do you think this is an appropriate age, or should it be higher/lower? It’s appropriate. I got mine at 18 and it worked out fine, and the only reason I got into accidents early on is because I was always driving very carefully but was unfortunately surrounded by dumbass drivers who liked to bully my much smaller car around.   If you won the lottery, do you think any of your family members would ask you to give them some of your money? I honestly don’t think so but maybe I just don’t know their true colors just yet HAHAHA. What is the craziest thing you've seen happen at your workplace? Thankfully I didn’t see it happen in person as it would’ve broken me completely, but it was when the Shopping Center at campus burned down. That was the first place I went to after I officially enrolled in my school (I had lunch with my dad and bought a UP car sticker) and it was also the first place my block dropped by to hang out together when we all met each other for the first time, so a lot of memories were in that place and I’m sure this was the case for all students too. That was a really sad day and I almost didn’t want to go to class when I saw the videos of the fire. Do you own any home automation gadgets like wifi thermostats or wifi bulbs? My parents have a wifi bulb. What is something you gave up on after many failed attempts? Instagram. I’ve always tried hyping myself up to finally make an account but egh, it just screams fakeiness to me. How old were you when you started to seriously think about what career path you wanted to pursue? When I was 19 or 20 as that was the age when I started having friends who graduated college and went on to have Real Life Jobs. Have you ever disliked a book so much that you didn't finish it? Yeah I got a random book once when my mom let me pick out whatever book I felt like getting when I was like 11 or 12. I don’t even remember the title anymore hahah but it was such a bore. I don’t know if I threw it out or if it’s buried somewhere in my room. Would you rather read a book, or listen to the audiobook? Read the book. I’m bad at listening to accents and have always needed subtitles, but if I needed subtitles for an audiobook then I might as well have just picked the book hahaha. Do you think tomorrow will be a better day than today? I don’t know. All days are the same now.

[foofygoldfish]

Just for the ambush I woke up to, full alphabet for Tilly. :)))

you mother fucker 

A   :   AFFECTION.   how does your muse show affection?

….yes.

she’s a lot like alice - very physical, lots of pet names; but she’s more subdued? if that makes sense…

B   :   BOUQUET.   does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

she loves flowers - she doesn’t have a favorite, she just loves flowers

C   :   CHOCOLATE.   does your muse like chocolate? which one is their favourite?

unfortunately, i can’t imagine that chocolate is too common 20 years after the outbreak :( she’d love cookies and cream chocolate bars, though

D   :   DATE.   what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

she’d love to have a cheesy stereotypical teen movie date with talisa - it’s not possible, but hey, if we’re talking ideal… yeah, an afternoon at the mall, catching a movie, and then going to some wannabe-fancy restaurant for dinner

E   :   EMBRACE.   does your muse like hugs? what are their hugs like?

she loves hugs. 

F   :   FLIRT.   is your muse good at flirting? how do they flirt?

she’s terrible at flirting lmao - she’ll stumble over her words and turn into a blushing mess

G   :   GIFT.   is your muse good at gift - giving or do they struggle to get it right?

she’s excellent at gift-giving - she somehow always knows what someone would want or need

H   :   HEART.   is your muse quick or slow to give their heart away?

…..if this is asking what i think it is

tilly instantly fell for talisa - she didn’t think she’d be so quick to fall in love, but after they were properly introduced, bam. (it took talisa a bit longer, but it really didn’t take long for the two to become inseparable)

I    :   I LOVE YOU.   does your muse find ‘i love you’ easy or hard to say?

very easy.

J   :   JEALOUSY.   does your muse get jealous in a relationship?

not really? she’s only ever been with talisa, and she knows that nobody would be able to get inbetween the two of them.

K   :   KISS.   is your muse a good kisser? why / why not?

she really hopes so - talisa’s never complained, at the very least

L   :   LOVE.   who does your muse love?

talisa.

M   :   MOONLIGHT.   what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

.......this was asked already? i think?

N   :   NAUGHTY.   what is your muse like in bed?

i’ve honestly never thought of this before akl;fsjd - i know she’s almost my age but she just seems like a baby

she’s pretty inexperienced before she’s with talisa - now that they’re together, she’s more than happy to let talisa take charge, and she’s pretty open to trying anything talisa suggests.

O   :   ODE.   does your muse have a way with words?

i mean.... she talks a lot lol. she’s not eleoquent by any means, but she tends to word vomit quite often.

P   :   PARTNER.   what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

.....talisa.

Q   :   QUESTION.   would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?

she honestly always thought it’d be talisa that’d ask, but it ends up being her. see the wedidng question because oooooops i’ve been jumping around this list lol

R   :   ROMANCE.   is your muse a romantic or a cynic?

not a full romantic, but she’s nowhere near being a cynic.

S   :   SWEETHEART.   did your muse have a childhood sweetheart?

nope. she had a few crushes, but nothing serious.

T   :   TRUE LOVE.   does your muse believe in true love?

absolutely.

U   :   UNREQUITED.   has your muse had their heart broken?

nope. (she had moments when she thought that talisa was dead, but that’s the closest)

V   :   VALENTINE.   how does your muse feel about valentine’s day?

she thinks it’s cheesy as hell (but will absolutely take advantage of the chance to spend some extra private time with talisa)

W  :   WEDDING.   would your muse get married? why / why not?

macy you know the answer to this

she proposes to talisa the morning after talisa is bitten, and they’re officially married by the end of the day - they have an actual ceremony a few months later

X   :   XOXO.   does your muse use / like pet names?

absolutely. she calls everyone by different little nicknames - ellie is baby girl (even though they only have a ten year age difference lol), talisa is darling, etc.

Y   :   YOURS.   does your muse get protective easily?

as much as she can, yep

Z   :   ZZZ.   how many people has your muse slept with?

just talisa

[sunlightdances]

ONE SHOTS:

SPN Angst Bingo ‘18 Masterlist Dean Headcanons/Bullet point Fics

Newest on top; updated 2/2/2021

Untitled (literally couldn’t think of a title for this lol): PG-13 for swearing She came out of nowhere, knocked him on his ass, and then asked him to apologize. How hard did he hit his head?

Body Language: PG-13 Low blood sugar sucks. Dean’s POV.

Everybody Knows I’m Torn Apart: PG-13 You manage to call Dean a few miles away from the bunker. Despite your injuries, you tell him the basics: you lost too much blood, you need a ride, you’re pretty sure you’re going to pass out soon. His gruff voice over the phone is the last thing you hear before you physically can’t keep your eyes open anymore.

Two Hearts on Fire: PG-13 3 times Dean is there for you and one time you’re able to return the favor.

Stay a Little Longer: PG You let yourself be vulnerable and Dean does too.

You’re an Ocean: PG The never ending push and pull between you and Dean finally comes to an end.

Take My Hand (When You Can’t See the Light): PG-13 (a few swears) Dean plays the knight in shining armor when you meet him by chance. Turns out you’ll meet him several more times. Everything happens for a reason, right?

Winter Air: PG Contrary to popular belief, Dean is a big softy who loves winter.

Slow Days: PG Dean meets you on a slow, lazy day in Lebanon at Christmas.

Come Home: PG Dean comes to your door in the middle of the night. it’s a good thing, too, because you’re gearing up for a fight.

Don’t Go Changing: PG-13 It was never supposed to end up like this. You find out the truth about Dean Winchester.

Dog Days: PG-13 (for violence) Dean rescues a dog and ends up being the one rescued.

Helping Hand: PG After recovering from an injury, you’re having a hard time getting back into fighting form. Dean helps you through it.

Sun Warmed: PG He sits on the edge of the table, watching you as you flit about the room, grabbing a mug, some coffee creamer, and sugar. You wait for him to make a comment about how sweet you like your coffee, but it never comes. Another sign that he’s not entirely himself today.

Untitled drabble: PG Someone is carrying you. Your head jostles until it finds purchase against a broad shoulder, and in your daze you can make out a conversation - though you’re not able to make sense of anything being said.Someone is urging you to open your eyes, You want to do what they ask, you want to ask questions, but you’re so tired.

I’ll Be Your Lifeline Tonight: PG Dean shoulders his own burdens. He always has. And truth be told, it comforted you to think he had it under control. Dean’s always been the one with the plan, the one who knew what to do next. Now that he doesn’t… you can’t lie, it freaks you out. But you have to help him right now. If the tables were turned, he’d do the same for you.

Untitled: PG You stop mid-sentence as you come around the corner into the rec room, seeing him fast asleep on the sofa. There’s a magazine on his lap and a few other books strewn around him, and while this isn’t really that out of the ordinary for him, it’s the glasses tucked into his collar that draw your attention.

It Echoes a Spark: PG-13 “I was on my way home. Traveling. Saw I was driving through town and thought… well, it’s almost our anniversary.” He winks, and it’s amazing how you’re not a puddle of goo right there on the floor.

Wrapped Up in Your Love: Rated PG @sixtysevenandwhiskey asked for: “i did that annoying thing where i put loads of smaller boxes inside one big box and you’re getting really mad but you don’t know that the ring is in the smallest box and i can’t wait to see your face”

Snow & Scarves: Rated PG @lipstickandwhiskey said “I gotta see you do “PULLING YOU IN FOR A KISS WITH A SCARF” because SWOON” and I mean, same, tbh.

Stay Here Til Sunrise: Rated T “You’re making a mental checklist of everything you need to do when you finally stop somewhere - the first thing being calling Sam to let him know his brother got his arm broken trying to be a goddamn hero again, followed closely by getting to a bathroom where Dean can’t see you as you try to calm the fuck down.”

Bruised Hearts: Rated T She sort of, kind of, probably hates him. He tells himself it’s for the best.  

Just Let Me Try: Rated T You get in a car accident not far from Dean’s shop and go to him for help. Mechanic!AU. Dean’s POV.

On Your Mark, Get Set, Bake: PG Dean discovers your guilty pleasure TV show.

I Remember Loving You: PG-13 When you think you’re in trouble, you go to Sam and Dean for help, despite the fact that you and Dean haven’t spoken or seen each other face to face in months.

Bright Lights Won’t Leave Me Alone: PG-13 Prompt: “We got involved in a fight at a bar and had to share the night in the same jail cell”

If It Keeps You By My Side: PG-13 The reader reveals something to Dean that turns his world upside down. Written for Annie’s 300 Follower Grand Budapest Motel Challenge!

One More Hour: PG Dean’s tired and can’t hide it from you no matter how hard he tries.

Danger Always Was a Friend of Mine: PG-13 You get stuck driving through a huge storm on your way to the bunker. Dean reacts in a way you don’t expect.

Run, Run, Run Away: PG-13 Dean calls you to go on a hunt he’d otherwise have to take solo. It takes quite a turn.

Lost Hope, Can’t Cope: PG-13 Dean helps you when your anxiety, stress, and everything else jumbled up in your head becomes too much. Alternates between the reader and Dean’s POV.

One Way to Shut You Up: PG A good, old-fashioned post-hunt celebration gives you the courage you finally need.

Now Close Your Eyes: PG You have a hard time letting other people take care of you.

Something About You, I Just Can’t Fight: Rated M You’re pretty sure Dean’s figured out your big, stupid crush on him, and you’re sure it’s only a matter of time before you spontaneously combust.

Loving Everything You Do: Rated T The washer broke. It’s not your fault that the only thing near you at the time was some of Dean’s clothes, okay.

Heavy Heart and a Heavy Mind: Rated T A badly-timed wish on your part and a curse from a witch has you and Dean reconsidering the nature of your relationship. Written for SPN Angst Bingo.

Let the Lonely In: Rated T After a bad day and a sleepless night, the reader and her insecurities are her own worst enemy.

Someone Throw a Lifeline: Rated T While wrapping up a case, Sam and Dean get a weird phone call that has Dean assuming the worst.

Everything You Are:  PG Dean’s POV.  Dean discovers the pretty librarian he met on a case is a little more “in the know” than he realized.

You’ve Had Me All Along: Rated M You’re so pissed that you’re even in this situation, your hands are shaking from adrenaline and anger. Huffing to yourself, you grab your phone out of your back pocket and dial one of two numbers you know by heart.

More Heart and Less Attack: Rated T The reader shows up at the bunker after being attacked, hurt and on the verge of a panic attack.

One More Time Before I Fall: Rated T This weird tension between you and Dean had to come to a head sometime, and what better time than when you’re trapped in the Impala with him for a long trip?

Untitled drabble: Rated T Dean has to bail you out of jail during a hunt, and isn’t happy about it when he sees you again.

Untitled drabble: Rated T One ghost down, five to go. You’re on your way to rescue the Winchesters.

Untitled oneshot: Rated PG Prompt: “I have been driving for the last 5 hours and all I want is some god damn beef jerky, so GET YOUR HAND OFF THE LAST PACKAGE ON THE SHELF YOU MAY BE HANDSOME STRANGER, BUT NO ONE IS STANDING IN BETWEEN ME AND THAT SALTY SNACK”

Breaks Your Heart Like Lovers Do: Rated PG Anon asked for a angsty fic based on “Happier” by Ed Sheeran. Don’t worry - there’s a happy ending!

Untitled Angst Day drabble: Rated T You’ve been hiding your feelings towards Dean for months, and when you guys have the biggest fight you can ever remember having, you reach a breaking point.

Seeing Eye to Eye and Heart to Heart: Rated T You get hurt on a hunt, and afterwards, Dean starts acting real weird.

Can’t Get You Close Enough: Rated M Dean tears into you after a hunt goes bad, causing you to have a panic attack. He makes a confession to your after, about why seeing you hurt makes him react that way.

I’ll Be Back, Give It Time: Rated M While you’re struggling with your feelings for Dean, you have your first fight.

Untitled drabble: Rated PG. You and Dean have this thing going on. You tease him, he teases you. You don’t expect it to lead to hurt feelings until it does.

Glasses: Rated M. Dean wears those glasses. You have feels.

Lately: Rated M (Dean POV, third person) Dean reflects on his feelings for the reader.

Now And Then I Get A Little Lost: Rated M (mild smut) Established relationship with Dean x Reader. The two of you run into Cassie on a hunt, and seeing Dean’s ex brings up some insecurities.

Got The Flu: Rated M Dean takes care of you when you’re sick, and confessions come in dramatic fashion. You know the drill.

Enough For Now: Rated M (mild smut, language) You haven’t seen Dean in over a year, and the scruff he’s sporting now is doing things to you.

Valentine’s Day oneshot: Rated M. Pure smut. Dean wears that coat. You know the one.

Don’t You Forget About Me: Rated M. Post 12x11. You help Sam figure out how to get rid of Dean’s curse. He doesn’t remember you, but he remembers something.

Untitled oneshot: Rated M (barely any smut, rated for language + dirty talk) The gang have a hunt at the zoo. What could go wrong?

Best Friends?: Rated M Prompt: “We’re best friends and I’ve been in love with you forever and I’m 30000% sure you only see me as a friend, except why is there all this tension rn?

Family Ties: Rated M (mild smut) You didn’t know your stepmom was a witch, okay. It’s not your fault you’ve got a coven on your tail. It’s also not your fault that Dean Winchester hates witches so much.

Untitled drabble: Rated M. Prompt was “comfort” - Dean comforts the reader after a hunt goes wrong and causes her to have nightmares.

Sooner Or Later: Rated M. Prompt was “touch”. Tension relief.

It’s So Clear Now: Rated M. You run into the Winchesters after a few months hunting alone, and when you get hurt, Dean takes care of you. This is a long one - 5K.

You Look Good in My Shirt: Rated M. You borrow Dean’s sweater and it causes him to finally make a move.

You’re A Sight For Sore Eyes: Rated PG. Based on a prompt. Dean helps you sleep when you’re dealing with some anxiety.

The More I’m Gone, The More Things Change: Rated T. You go with the Winchesters to LA to hopefully help them ice Lucifer.

They Call It The Season Of Giving (I’m Here, Yours For The Taking): Rated PG You get a little emotional exchanging Christmas gifts with Dean.

It’s The Same For Me: Rated T. You mess up on a hunt and Dean calls you out for it. Resentful of being treated like a kid, you lash out.

Missing You: Rated T. You and Dean are alone in the bunker for a night when you surprise him with a visit. He’s missed you.

Untitled drabble: Rated T. Dean is so protective of you, it makes you crazy. You fight, and then make out.

Don’t Look Back: Rated T, sequel to “Ain’t Afraid Of No Ghosts”. Dean shows up unannounced to make sure you’re safe as he and Sam investigate some demon signs near your home.

Rescue Drabble: Rated T Sam and Dean rescue you after a close call while hunting, and afterwards, Dean’s guilt leads to a confession.  

Happy To See Me?: Rated M (light smut in this one). Imagine seeing Dean for the first time in months, and him not being able to hide how happy he is to see you.

Ain’t Afraid Of No Ghosts: Rated M.  You’re not happy when the Winchester brothers show up to steal your hunt, no matter how cute you think the older one is.

PROMPT FICS:

Dean + “dance with me” / “I’ve always loved you”

Dean + “Can you walk?”

Platonic Dean + Lisa being jealous

Dean + “I’d sooner die than deny my feelings for you”

Dean + “You look terrible”

Dean + “No, wait, please. Can’t we talk?”

Dean + “I belong with you”

Dean + chocolate

Dean + fear

Dean + nicknames

Dean + morning routine

Dean + playing with hair

Dean+ fireplace