#i am so sorry to be the bearer of bad news | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-floral-perspective · 4 months

Text

More creepypasta headcannons!

+the women this time! Also these aren’t sexual, but there will be references to drinking, drugs and sex

And in most of these I am ignoring what is actually cannon so I’m sorry, I just like thinking more on the wholesome side of this fandom.

Also, I understand that Sally is like not at all like her OG story, but this is how I like to interpret her so please don’t hate!

Jeff the killer

Age: 22

Wine Problems: got citric acid rubbed into his healing mouth scar by EJ and Ben. (He splattered paint all over Ben’s gaming system Bc he wouldn’t give him free weed. EJ joined because of the “Tear-alliance”)

Head-cannons

“erm actually ☝🏻”

-He buys a lot of flip phones to prank the pastas. Specifically Ben, Jane and Hoodie. Tbh kind of a big bully. Also definitely steals slenders money.

-Lactose intolerant

-eats hot Cheetos like an mf

-he’s oddly spiritual??? But in a scared way, he thinks the gods are coming for him just cause 🤷🏻‍♂️

-he thinks he’s slick whenever he steals Slenders money, but slender knows.

-one time for a TikTok, he tried getting one of the pastas to do the candy man dance with him but no one wanted to join him except for Hoodie Bc he felt bad 😭

-every normal person thinks his TikTok is a devoted cosplayer, but he’s not.

-he’s actually really depressed about Liu, but he never rlly addressed it with himself. He just ignores it and him Bc he doesn’t know how to react.

Jane the Killer

Age: 23

Wine Problems: Sally accidentally got shoved by Jeff during a quarrel and now she has to get Sally to stop crying before Slender comes back from meeting his brothers.

Head-cannons

-makes so many funny faces to herself and actively talks to herself in front of people (and mid convo too)

-you will catch her pacing down the main hallway with headphones in when she’s angry.

-AWFUL BAKER idk HOW she just can’t bake. It always burns.

-her natural hair is shoulder length, black and curly.

-Her wife is a normal person (granted immunity from slender), her name is Lillian.

-Toby was the ring bearer for the wedding, Sally and Lazari (when she was young) were the flower girls. Lillian’s brother walked her down the isle, Toby walked Jane down the isle afterwards. Jeff at the reception gave a surprisingly good speech about Jane and their marriage… but then he got destructive drunk and had to be carried out Frank Gallagher style.

-she has a separate house and identity that she uses away from the mansion to be normal with her life and be the adult she couldn’t be.

-she’s never rlly at her other house tho.

-she loves having deep scientific talks with people to see their ideas and to read them better.

-she’s a really good person to talk to about passion projects Bc she’ll engage in your thoughts and use her knowledge to help you with whatever your stuck on or thinking of. She also hypes too.

-her and Kate are like the main watchers/caretakers of new pastas to make them feel comfortable.

-she is actively the only pasta who has seen Slenders human form.

Ben drowned

Age: 19

Wine Problems: Jeff and sally creating a doll out of Ben’s hair. The hair from his shower drain. Then them harassing him with it, trapping him in the livingroom TV.

Head-cannons

-The house dealer

-Everyone is trying to get all up in his business

-it takes him 20 minutes every morning doing his hair and skin routine.

-his favorite video game is RDR2

-chronic Jacksepticeye fanboy. Has attempted to see him on tour awhile back ago.

-his room is clean, but so weird. Like he has Minecraft posters and odd shit like that. He also has those LED lights on his walls and a really fucking expensive gaming setup.

-does not punch his walls.

-he has a pet tarantula named Bea.

-he chronically enjoys Pepsi. It’s kind of gross. Also he is HUGE on snacks, like he has a mini fridge.

-also to be allowed in his room you have to cashapp him 5$ if you’re in their for longer than 15 minutes for “wasting his time”

-he listens to a lot of French music and video game soundtrack to fall asleep.

-he LOVES Skyrim.

-he knows a lot abt tech since he’s a video game ghost/glitch, but it’s not his only personality.

Clockwork

Age: 20

Wine problems: recently started hearing voices after accidentally eating one of the special brownies in the kitchen. She’s in the corner in the living room having a bad trip. Lazari is behind her comforting her. (Clockwork currently doesn’t think she’s real)

Head-cannons

-asexual and aerosexual. They just are rarely attracted to people.

-LOVES low-rise jeans

-she’s like hella sarcastic and definitely has disorders (undiagnosed)

-for the most part she’s pretty quiet, speaks more with her hands than her mouth.

-tall af, like 5’11.

-whenever she gets a migraine you might as well shoot her since she has the clock in her eye 😭

-her favorite movie series is SAW. She has actively built some of the prototypes like the reverse bear trap.

-she collects animal teeth and bones.

-her room gives very much teenage dirtbag.

-after awhile she starts hating people she hangs around Bc she’s bad at setting boundaries. That’s one of the reasons she broke up with Toby.

-very passionate about politics and her assignments.

-she has a cat named Bubble, she’s a Siamese cat and she surprisingly cuddly. Bubble hates everyone but clockwork and sometimes she sits on Clockworks shoulder.

Ticci Toby

Age: 22

Wine problems: he was out getting groceries for the pastas and then a group of 13 yr olds started harassing him (he bought one of those lobsters in the water) until he went to his car.

Head-cannons

-buys the house groceries once a week.

-genuinely careless. Like he is so straight faced tbh. Unless you’re really funny and he’s seriously caught of guard.

-eats so much chocolate it’s insane. LOVES hot chocolate.

-his stutter does get better, but it’s still pretty present.

-he does not like Jeff. At all.

-sometimes he can be such an accidental dickhead. He does not know timing like at all.

-you will see him awake at 5AM eating salad.

-he love’s Hollywood undead almost an unreasonable amount. Borderline stalkery.

-excellent organizer and party planner, typically helps Kate with designing shit.

-he doesn’t really know how to feel about the pastas, he just rlly like Jane though. She reminds him of everything he’s lost.

-he loves to draw birds and birdwatching.

-he only kills his assignments.

Judge Angels

Age: 25

Wine problems: she spilled a glass of milk on smile dog and is currently hiding in her room until he goes away. Also got caught gatekeeping by Lazari.

Head-cannons

-can’t handle certain writing styles. Like she hates commas and all capitalized letters. They just grind her gears.

-her favorite food is mangos.

-tbh shopping addict. She’s always buying small trinkets and organizing boxes. On her way to becoming a horder. (Not really but kinda)

-probably one of the funniest pastas (if you unlock her first)

-sometimes she’ll randomly turn to a southern accent but she doesn’t realize it.

-easily cringable. She’s either giggling, lost or just staring. It’s kind of funny tho.

-She’s so bad at scheduling. She makes plans on plans and forgets other plans and it’s highly irritating. Almost every pasta gets annoyed at her for this.

-she makes a mean French toast.

-her closet consists of the same outfits repeated and she lacks confidence. She doesn’t gain much until she became friends with the girls of the mansion and they started introducing her to different feminine/masculine styles. She now comfortably represents androgynously.

-she has dimple piercings.

Puppeteer

Age: unknown

Wine Problems: the clown-posse (LJ, Jason and Candypop) are all on his ass because the past week all of them have seen him steal something of theirs at least once. LJ lost 5 items, Jason lost 2 and Candypop lost 3.

Head-cannons

-mischievous fucker.

- ‘swiper no swiping’ my ass.

-he’s seen the entirety of paw patrol and kind of loves the show?? It’s just so stupid, he loves making fun of it.

-has literally 0 sympathy and will laugh at your misfortune to your face.

-he can eat anything spicy without feeling it. Sour candy tho? You might as well shoot him.

-can’t handle his alcohol.

-calls the mansion his trap house.

-has a bit where he calls the pastas his whores since him and slender have similar powers.

-He’s not that much of a dick though, he won’t attempt to control someone unless they sign a contract.

-hates looking into mirrors, they make him depressed.

-has phases of sleeping 24/7 and staying up for days on end.

-don’t bother him when he’s snug as a bug in a rug, he will kill you if you interrupt him.

-he LOVES a good soft blanket. No matter where you will catch him with a cute blankie, as long as it’s soft. His favorite blanket is from Liu during their secret Santa Christmas celebration. It’s a navy blue blanket with white tiny flecks representing stars.

-sometimes he thinks really deep and looks at the sky at night, but he doesn’t understand much since he’s the personification of self-deletion. He has trouble understanding emotion and how he feels sometimes so he lashes out.

-sometimes he takes it bad when he thinks about how the pastas think he’s an asshole bc he wants to be seen as more than that but he never really shows that.

-British 😏

Nurse Ann

Age: 25

Wine problems: she woke up with both of her legs missing, someone (she doesn’t know who), stole her needle and thread. She can’t attach her legs until then, so far she’s been in her wheelchair. No luck.

Head-cannons

-her eyes are completely black.

-her favorite hobby is cleaning and sewing. Both of them just calm her down whenever she’s feeling jittery or anxious. For Christmas she sees a bunch of sweaters for the pastas.

-when she was 13 she worked at a local restaurant as a waitress.

-her legs come off if her stitches come undone. Sometimes the Pastas will purposely cut the thread as a joke. (It’s all in good fun tho, shes okay with it).

-plus sized

-can speak Spanish and French! She was one of those hella smart girls in class.

-she plays a lot of LoveNikki.

-she was a theater kid in highschool. Her school did sweeny Todd and she played Mrs Lovett.

-her and eyeless Jack are geniuses of the mansion. Ppl tried setting them up, but neither of them felt the vibe. They’re good acquaintances tho.

-Slender doesn’t send her out on much assignments since she’s normally so busy with the pastas injuries. The only reason why EJ goes out as much as he does is to get food— that he insists he can do by himself.

Bloody Painter

Age: 24

Wine problems: fell asleep while painting. His clothes is ruined and so is his painting. In his hella sassy feels rn. Totally sulking. Abt to drown himself in the shower.

Head-cannons

-snarky bitch.

-he LOVES white chocolate macadamia cookies.

-“wtf”

-he can’t HANDLE it whenever someone is watching what he’s doing or questioning his method of doing things. It makes a certain spring in his head snap.

-I’m ngl I think he’s always super tired. Probably cause he’s besties with puppeteer. Like this man is eepy, he’s a cute sleeper tho.

-he’s silent but scary. You will NEVER hear him coming. He could be behind you waiting and you genuinely would not notice until you’re dead.

-I feel like he spends a lot of time in his room painting, but whenever he gets an art block he might as well cry. He genuinely doesn’t know what to do when he can’t paint. His three options are; crying, reading or eating.

-Jeff is always joking around with him, but he doesn’t really play along with it… even tho he tries to get closer to a lot of the pastas. Jeff just isn’t one he’s interested being nice too.

-he watched miraculous ladybug once and almost cried.

Rouge

Age: 25

Wine problems: she accidentally ripped her pants and not in the cute way. Also her worn down converse she’s had since she was 15 finally wore out and broke down.

Head-cannons

-she’s not that messy, but for the aesthetic she can be. She’s not afraid of getting dirty.

-she has a dream journal that she writes in every morning Bc it helps her lucid dream. She only likes lucid dreaming Bc she feels in control, though this has accidentally lead to sleep paralysis.

-she’s super sensitive to the cold.

-she’s really good friends with clockwork.

-she’s honestly a creative genius. She loves literature and art and performance. Though sometimes she gets completely lost in her work.

-constantly in a state of escapism.

-she kind of reminds me of Charlie from Perks of Being a Wallflower. That’s probably her favorite movie too.

-she loves hanging around the girls of the mansion, they make her feel at home. Like she’s sm more comfortable around them than others. Sometimes when a new pasta arrives and they throw an honoring ceremony, the girl pastas will all get ready together in Slenders room! (His room is the biggest and he’s cooking all the food with the boys)

Masky

Age: 25

Wine problems: ran out of storage on his phone, now he has to delete the many photos and videos of him pranking Toby in his sleep.

Head-cannons

-he’s not as much as a dickhead as he seems, like he’s actually pretty chill and he has simple boundaries.

-he’s more of a loner if anything, the one person he like actually talks to tho is Toby and hoodie. Hoodie as an acquaintance and Toby as a little brother.

-sometimes he can get a little crazy, but that’s expected.

-he’s the easiest pasta to scare, this mf is JUMPY.

-he is a chronic shitposter.

-he loves self care tho. Like he’s always showering or getting shower stuff. He has like a collection of shower stuff.

-he used to have his ears pierced as a rebellion against his parents as a teen, but they closed. Sometimes he wishes he could get them repeirced.

-he’s like the type of guy who takes bubble baths a lot Bc he’s stressed all the time. Like he’s ALWAYS irritated abt something.

-you know he’d run a Walmart deli like his bitch.

-regardless, he takes his job too seriously and sometimes slender gets a lil concerned abt him Bc he literally gets crazy sometimes.

-rated T for ‘Too hard to work with’

Laughing Jill

Age: unknown

Wine problems: choked on a piece of hair and the next person that talks to her is getting the belt. Also couldn’t answer a simple math equation in a debate with hoodie so now everyone is calling her a bimbo.

Head-cannons

-she makes SO MANY TIKTOK VIDEOS, almost TikTok famous (she doesn’t show her or anyone’s face on cam)

-almost started a mukbang account.

-her and Jack came from the same Angel hence their name and design.

-she cried when watching the fnaf movie.

-she wears some odd earrings and she actually adds some color in her wardrobe too, unlike Jack.

-she is really into evanescence.

-has an aggressive southern accent (like Millie from Helluva Boss)

-southern lass girlboss sass idk

-she absolutely HATES water, like swimming is her biggest nightmare. She hates the ocean and ocean animals. They just creep her out.

-she’s not really close with anyone but she yaps sm. The one who tolerate it the most is probably Kate, Ben and Bloody painter.

-she’s been in a mosh pit a couple times and the first time someone threw a PB&J sandwich on her. She almost cried.

Hoodie

Age: 26

Wine problems: trying to keep control of the house. Put away the brownies, constantly cleaning. Is forced to give up once Jeff throws ice cream at the ceiling.

Head-cannons

-no matter where, he only wears converse.

-tbh think he watches some anime.

-I feel like if he ever was rapping he’d be really good at it.

-with assignments he’s one of the most efficient out of the mansion, some people don’t like him cause of it.

-he stays out of most peoples way, sometimes he’ll help Nurse Ann clean tho. He probably reads often with Sally too.

-he’s a loyal confidant to all no matter what and he’s relatively judgment free.

-he has an aggressive model walk, might as well call him Adriana Lima.

-him and Toby are like the only pastas with bad facial hair and sometimes in the morning they shave together 😭

-he cringes so hard knowing that there’s a whole fandom that he’s one of the stars in, like he thinks it’s a bit odd.

-ever since toby got high and went anonymous online, creating a fandom revolving around their house and friends. Things have been a bit wary between the two.

Sally

Age: physically 8, mentally 215

Wine problems: got accidentally shoved by Jeff (sobbing). Missing slender, also is tired of the bull going on in the house. Mf is abt to yell.

Head-cannons

-she totally gets annoyed at the pastas Bc they all treat her like she’s her physical age. Like I feel like this is something that genuinely pisses her off.

-even tho she is 215, she’s very childish, like she loves Disney and animated movies.

-She doesn’t really play with dolls but she has a collection of them in her room.

-She sometimes goes to school for fun to lurk out other possible pastas with bad home lives. (They wouldn’t get assignments until theyre 18 at least)

-she’s very easily disgusted by visuals or concepts. She can’t watch Wallace and grament without wanting to die.

-she was the one that started the idea of sending assignments for the pastas, Slender agreed Bc she’s basically the daughter he always wanted. (She’s also the one who suggested they make it like a business scheme to attract those meant to be apart of the pastas so they don’t have to scout ppl out.)

-she is very strong politically and she is very open with what she has to say.

-very creative and smart, she reads often on multiple different subjects. She can speak Russian, ASL, French, Spanish and she knows Morse code. She’s trying to learn piano or violin too. She’s essentially a prodigy.

-she’s teaching some of the other pastas different languages, specifically Kate and Rouge who want to learn Morse code.

-specific requests with assignments are ran By Sally before she goes to slender with them.

Laughing Jack

Age: unknown

Wine problems: losing his final straw with puppeteer. Is about to pour hot sauce in his eyes. Eagerly awaiting dinner and sleep. Genuinely one of the only times in his life he’s ever been exhausted.

Head-cannons

-he cries after sex, no matter what.

-he thinks EJ shouldn’t be called Jack when he came first as the first Jack, but everyone calls him LJ.

-very British.

-he compliments Bloody Painters art whenever he sees it.

-Jeff is always making jokes abt how old he is and it pisses him off. (He got asked if dinosaurs really had feathers.)

-for awhile on YouTube he did ASMR without showing his face.

-he doesn’t know how to drive at all and he has a horse collection of dolls. It’s kinda weird but the pastas think it’s bc he people used to ride carriages so that’s what Jack is most used to seeing. They’re not wrong.

-he doesn’t really like music, it’s so loud for his sensitive earbuds.

-he can genuinely hear everything.

-the only movie he cried at was the Freddy Mercury movie.

Lazari

Age: 16, appears however she wants to.

Wine problems: grounded for stealing a cat, can’t go to the mansion so she’s angsty and listening to old Evanescence. Also lookin a lot like Ramona Flowers rn (blue hair version)

Head-cannons

-she eats a LOT of icecream sandwiches.

-she reads a lot of comics, her favorite comic character is Raven (Rachel Roth) Bc she relates to her backstory a lot.

-before she knew her dad, she had a creepypasta fan account. Zalgo forced her to delete it.

-when Unus Annus ended she didn’t leave her room for a week. She was a MESS

-she influenced Candypop hella when getting into the Scott Pilgrim vibe and dying hair. She was his biggest supporter.

-she reads a LOT. She used to love Twilight too.

-she was a huge Percy Jackson nerd. She wants to play Thalia in a live action series.

-if you didn’t notice she’s rlly into pop culture.

-her and Sally remain best friends Bc Lazari is the only one who gets that Sally isn’t actually 8 years old despite her looking that way.

-I’m ngl her assignments from zalgo are mostly women.

-she is a very sassy young lady. Like she says some of the most out of pocket shit and it’s so funny. The pastas have witness Lazari telling Zalgo off and it’s so silly.

Jason The Toymaker

Age: unknown

Wine problems: the last person he killed is being a nuisance and wreaking havoc in his office. Also got his spell book destroyed, so Slender ordered another one for him.

Head-cannons

-he takes hella fashion inspo from the labyrinth.

-he REFUSES to smell bad or to live bad. Like he likes his stuff at the highest quality. It’s kind of silly.

-all of his clothes is made from spider silk.

-he watches a lot of plays and musicals, genuinely loves orchestras and stuff like that.

-his nails are super sharp and he kinda hates it Bc he can’t do anything with his hands and Jeff edited him to have pink nails saying Periodt 😭 and it became a huge meme in the groupchat.

-tbh he’s kind of an oracle, like he can tell what someone’s future is going to be like. He doesn’t do it on purpose but he’s somehow always right.

-this comes in tie with his assignments. He mostly deletes preteens and teens Bc he can see their future. He’s necessary for deleting future aggressors. He deletes more than his assignments tho.

-sometimes he gets emotional when watching Disney movies Bc he thinks of found family as the creepypastas.

-ice age makes him sob so hard. Don’t tell anyone tho, he’s embarrassed.

Zero

Age: 25

Wine problems: her scarf got stolen and her cat, Maple is hiding behind the TV Ben was previously trapped in.

Head-cannons

-she is very out of the loop. Slenderman had to seriously correct her spirit once she joined. She was way too much for him and the Pastas to handle. Now it’s like a venom situation where Alice and Zero take turns with Alice’s body.

-she has a very distinct style.

-for awhile her and LJ were kind of into each other, but she got the ick once and never looked back.

-she has very random violent outbursts that are hard to deal with. Slender has a detector on her to keep an eye. She’s probably the most defiant creepypasta.

-Jeff and her hooked up once and were in a very toxic relationship that lasted 2 months. Now they ignore each other and act like they don’t exist.

-she is highly into herself. Totally has a smexy twitter account.

-for as long as she’s been with the pastas, she has grown to care for them, though she doesn’t really show that at all. She doesn’t take it personally or care how they feel about that.

Homicidal Liu

Age: 24

Wine problems: accidentally got caught up in teenage drama while bird watching at the nearest park. He’s trying to find a way to back away from the group of teens without drawling their attention. It isn’t working.

Head-cannons

-he doesn’t remember Jeff or his family.

-if you give him orange chicken he’s gonna flip a chair and rip open his shirt.

-he’s able to stomach anything but he will totally critique your food, he does not care.

-his voice is really quiet and sultry.

-he doesn’t really understand or comprehend the spirituality involving Slenderman and other pastas, but he’s put off by it.

-*NSYNC fanboy.

-his favorite movie is probably house of 1000 corpses.

-his scarf was a birthday gift from Jeff from way back when.

-Liu only kills his assignments and no one else. He doesn’t really think about what he does, like he’s confused and very out of it. Though he gets along nicely with the other pastas, he’s respected by everyone there.

-Liu genuinely eats so much food but he doesn’t mean to. Like he loves eating. He’s definitely the kitchen cutie.

-he gets carsick hella bad.

Nina the Killer

Age: 20

Wine problems: couldn’t find her stockings and slender logged her out of the hulu account as punishment for throwing a meatball at the wall during dinner yesterday.

Head-cannons

-bisexual

-her favorite movie is definitely corpse bride, she is Emily, Emily is her.

-honestly she’s kind of a popular loner in the mansion. Like she’s friends with everyone, but she spends time alone a lot.

-definitely class clown material tho.

-she doesn’t crush on Jeff anymore 😭 she’s still demented like that tho.

-one of the only other pastas that kill outside of her assignments from slender. She kills whoever slender and Sally tell her too, but after that she grows obsessive over kind strangers and ends up killing some of them too Bc she can’t handle it.

-she isn’t allowed out often, most of her assignments are required at night to lessen her obsessiveness.

-she doesn’t really obsess over the pastas in the mansion since she’s already used to them. Jeff got lucky with her Bc once he started reciprocating feelings she lost interest 😭

-if she really wanted to, she could literally do anything within 10 minutes. Like she is FAST and hella energetic and such a diva.

CandyPop

Age: unknown

Wine Problems: keeps getting his antiques stolen by Puppeteer. Killed someone with asthma and they hit their inhaler just to blow the smoke out in his face. Mf was flabbergasted.

Head-cannon

-no one knows how he came to be, not even slender 😭 Candypop himself doesn’t even know.

-overtime his purple and blue colors started switching up.

-he says he’s exactly like Ramona flowers. Scott pilgrim vs the world is his favorite movie. Ramona is his favorite character.

-he’s a straight up asshole in a Sheldon Cooper type of way.

-everytime he’s drunk, everyone leaves the house Bc of how annoying and clingy he is.

-DO NOT tell this man your secrets. Everyone will know right as soon as you say “don’t tell anyone I did this, but…”

-he cannot drive, do not trust him in the drivers or passengers seat. Somehow he will fuck it up.

-he’s BESTIES with Clockwork.

-one time he dyed his hair green and it actually looked so terrible on him but EVERYONE was hyping him up, it was so bad.

-he loves going to Denny’s at nighttime Bc he feels special for how he looks. Or Walmart. He LOVES Walmart.

Kate the chaser

Age: 26

Wine Problem: currently trying to calm the chaos before Slender and Toby get home. Also accidentally ate a special brownie while on her antidepressants after downing 3 shots of vodka (don’t do this yall). Straight up tripping balls rn.

Head-cannon

-Fiona Gallagher coded.

-dresses up as a pirate every Halloween and she’s definitely the one who makes all the Christmas cookies.

-she always decorates the house for holidays.

-since she’s Jewish, she also has a Hanukkah setup too for the other Jewish ppl there.

-definitely vegetarian.

-probably the most fit and strong pasta next to Jeff and the supernatural ones (E: LJ, EJ, Candypop, Jason)

-she’s one of the originals.

-she had a short fling with Laughing Jill. They’re like an on and off power couple tbh.

-she bought a vibrator off of wish one time and Jeff opened her package Bc he thought it had his name on it. (Jeff had an odd bruise on his nose afterwards)

-she cuts her own hair and as a joke puts it on Ben’s pillow so that he’ll think someone dyed his hair. Cracks her up everytime istg.

-she drinks coffee like it’s nobodies BUSINESS.

Eyeless Jack

Age: 25

Wine problem: Has to help Ben torture Jeff. Also got lost in the woods for two hours looking for his next target, Toby found him and picked him up once he got back from the grocery store.

Head-cannon

-is normally the last person to find out drama or news.

-has almost walked in on so many creepypastas in the bathroom. The only reason he stops is because he can see the heat light.

-sometimes can’t tell if he’s just hallucinating Bc of how his vision works.

-if you take a picture with flash, his eyes will glow like a cats.

-buys clothes in incorrect sizes all the time. Toby has to go pants shopping for him often.

-the only time he can see normally is with his human disguise on.

-he’s definitely Greek, like his mom was definitely from Greece and his dad American. He can speak Greek and Spanish Bc of highschool. English is his second language.

-he used to get made fun of for the black tar on his mask looking like tears until Ben came along and they started the tear alliance. (They’d defend each other whenever one got teased)

-I feel like whenever he’s hungry he gets increasingly more deranged. So sometimes if he’s too depressed to get his own kidneys, someone else will have to get some for him ASAP.

423 notes · View notes

elftwink · 9 months

Text

to preface this post i am anti-advertising i think we should explode the entire industry but it's sooo funny when you people make posts like "and they don't even work!!" like. sorry to be the bearer of bad news but yes they do. that's why we have to put up with so many despite everyone hating them and thinking its annoying. because they actually work really well and make a shit load of money

#it actually would be way better if they didnt work and made no money bc businesses would abandon them #this isnt like stocks where everythings abstract and is essentially gambling (i dont understand stocks)#like ppl in the ad industry create things. that make a tangible and quantifiable impact on the business #which is then used in further ad planning. it is NOT all smoke and mirrors #like its fake in that the industry is not providing a necessary service the way like. grocery stores are #but its not the level of fake where everything is abstract like theres deliverables #moreover there is an extensive body of academic work specifically on how to make ads more effective #ALSO i think some of u views ads like. as if they have a win condition. which is you buy product #but in current advertising this is pretty rare and comparatively ineffective #which is why you see MANY ads which dont seem to be selling anything in particular. or which have nothing all to do with the product #the 'win' condition for THAT kind of ad is something more like 'viewers remember our name'#like. ex i would say ads for temu have not been effective on me bc i havent bought anything from them #but temu probably thinks they were SUPER effective on me because i talked abt them like 5 different times at work #and i do in fact know exactly what the company does and what they sell #and they were able to capitalize on the reputations of existing companies (wish shein etc) to build their own brand #good idea generator

712 notes · View notes

thelov3lybookworm · 4 months

Note

Hey, will you write a cassian x reader fic inspired by the song Creepin by Metro Boomin & the Weeknd?

My fault.

Summary: They never liked her. Thought he was too good for her. She did not realised the lengths they would go to hurt her.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: self loathing, cheating, asshole inner circle, reader does not think herself worthy of love. that's all, me thinks, but if there's more, lemme know.

A/n: thank you for the request anon! i enjoyed writing it so much 🥹 so sorry for the long wait my love❣️

(the inner circle is kind of a bitch in this, not Nesta though. she is an angel. reader has no freakin backbone, so dont read if its no your cup of tea)

with that out of the way, i might do a part two if everyone wants it. I have it all planned out 😏

anyways, enjoy!

(heheh @artists-ally and @aroseinvelaris i hope this makes you cry. the snippets were just the snacks. this is the meal)

•○🌑○•

Y/n stared at her best friend of centuries, numbness spreading through her chest the longer she thought about the information she had just received.

"Y/n? Please say something." Nina begged, her eyes shining with tears, pleading.

"What is there left to say?" Y/n mumbled, taking a deep breath as she turned her gaze towards the empty cup that sat in front of her, picking at her cuticles. "Are you... are you sure it was him?"

Y/n knew it hurt Nina to be the bearer of the bad news, and she felt bad for asking her more about it. But she needed to know. "Yes. I don't think many Illyrians walk around with seven glowing rocks on their body."

Y/n nodded absently.

They sat a few moments in silence, letting the scrape and clinks of the cutlery fill the space between them.

It was supposed to be a girl's day today, and it had been fun, until Nina had gotten that sad, guilty look on her face as the two of them sat sipping on tea at a small cafe in the heart of Velaris.

Y/n almost regretted asking her friend what the matter was. Almost.

When the quiet became unbearable, Y/n stood with a deep sigh, grabbing her purse from the table in between them. Nina followed. "Y/n?"

"I think it's getting late. We should go home. He will be returning soon."

Y/n could see Nina's heart breaking for her friend, but she did not want anyone's sympathy.

"You are going to go back? To that house? To him?"

Y/n released a frustrated breath as the two of them left the cafe, spilling out into the packed street. "What else am I supposed to do? Run away?"

"Yes! He does not deserve you. Please tell me you will leave?"

Y/n looked away from Nina. "You know me, Nina. I have never been one to just up and leave."

It was almost common knowledge at this point. Everyone who knew Y/n, knew she would rather stay in a relationship in which she was the only one making an effort than leave. And she knew she probably was weak for not standing up for herself, the couple of relationships she's been in before showing that, but she simply could not bring herself to forget the teachings of her long dead mother-

That it was a female's job to keep her partner satisfied, and if he sought out other women, then it was the female's fault that she could not satisfy his needs.

Y/n did not think she would ever be able to stop being that timid, shy female who would just cry in the safety of the darkness in her room when someone hurt her.

She hated herself for it.

Nina was the only one who understood Y/n's reasoning and did not give her shit for it. She was the only one who tried to gently guide Y/n to stand up for herself. She never judged Y/n for crying.

"I..." Nina took a deep breath before nodding, rubbing Y/n's back. "I hope you someday find it in yourself to leave him before he..."

Nina did not say it, but Y/n heard it nonetheless.

Before he left her, disposed in favour of someone better. Someone more beautiful, someone more confident and loveable.

Y/n nodded, blinking back tears as she moved to hug her friend, who was more of a sister than anything at this point.

"Thank you." Y/n murmured into Nina's shoulder, her voice breaking. She felt Nina nod against her, giving her a rueful smile after they pulled away.

"Take care, Y/n."

Y/n nodded, turning away. "You too."

•○🌑○•

Y/n searched his face for something, anything, to show her that what Nina had told her was just a lie. That maybe she was mistaken.

Y/n came up lacking.

Now that she thought about it, the signs were always there. She was just too busy pretending that everything was fine. That Cassian was not like her previous lovers. That he would not throw her to the side, out of his life, for someone else.

That he loved her.

She now saw how foolish she'd been. Every male put on this land by the mother was the same. They only wanted females who were confident, who knew how to give them what they wanted.

She remembered how he had become recently. Yelling and picking fights over the smallest things.

The first time it happened, he was deep in his work, and Y/n had dropped something, making a loud sound and startling the both of them. Usually, Cassian would have given her a small smile and just gone back to work. But not that day.

That day he had glared at her, which was almost worse than the words that he mumbled next.

"When will you stop being clumsy?"

He had spoken under his breath, but Y/n had still heard. She stiffened.

"What?"

He sighed, his frustration evident. "When will you stop being clumsy?"

His voice was loud, almost booming, echoing in the painful silence after. Tears filled Y/n's eyes as she stared at him.

"Great. Now you are crying." He leaned back, dragging his palms down his face. Y/n ducked her head.

"I'm sorry." With that, she had shuffled out of his office, hoping she had not angered him too much and that he would forgive her.

Y/n watched, as Cassian threw back his head and laughed at something his family said, his hand on his abdomen.

She knew he had recently begun pulling away, knew he felt trapped by her.

And so she had let him do what he wished, made herself smaller to make space for his happiness.

Maybe that's where she had gone wrong.

She could tell he felt freer in this moment. Could tell by the sparkle in his eyes and by the constant smile and joy on his face.

She watched through the window as his body shook with the bouts of laughter his family pulled from him. She stood outside of the small gates that guarded the River estate of the high lord and blinked away her tears.

She had not seen him this happy in months now, and she had to fight off the jealousy that simmered in her gut. After all, she had no right to feel that way after she was the one who suppressed his happiness.

Y/n took a breath, releasing it in a sigh as she made up her mind. She needed to talk to Cassian, and then she would go back home, to the place she and Cassian had shared. To the place that he stopped living in in the past months, only visiting for the sake of it.

Walking up to the door of the home was quicker than she expected, and suddenly she was staring at the fine wood and considering bolting.

Her hand raised itself before she could do anything else, knocking, and she cursed lowly when the sound of footsteps approached.

The door opened to reveal a beautiful female staring at Y/n with a small smile. She had gorgeous blue-grey eyes, her hair that was wrapped around her head in a crown shining under the faelights.

"Yes? How can I help you?"

Y/n blinked, swallowing, wondering if she looked as miserable as she felt.

"I- is Cassian here?"

The female's brows furrowed. "Yes. Who are you?"

Y/n's eyes travelled to behind the female, where now stood a wide eyed Cassian and a furious looking High Lord. "I..."

Cassian sighed, taking a step forward, making the beautiful female glance back at them. "She's my-"

"She's no one, Nesta." Everyone's eyes snapped to the high lord. Hate spread through Y/n, but she tamped it down when Cassian simply continued staring at his brother instead of defending his wife.

A sudden rush of tears prickled at Y/n's eyes, but she swallowed hard. "Yes. I'm no one."

Cassian met her eyes, his gaze pained. Y/n had the vague feeling of being watched, but she ignored it, directly addressing her husband.

"Can I have a word? In private?"

The high lord opened his mouth, to reject no doubt, but Cassian beat him to it. "Yes."

Y/n sighed, and when she inhaled, Cassian's scent mixed with a soft, feminine filled her lungs . Y/n's wide eyes swung to a confused looking Nesta before glancing at Cassian disbelievingly, and she could see guilt overtaking Cassian's features.

She blinked, letting the tears fill her eyes as she gave him a pained expression.

"Thank you." Y/n mumbled, her tone defeated. Before the high lord could interrupt, she turned away, making her way towards the garden in front of the house, knowing Cassian followed.

When she was sure that no one could eavesdrop on them unless they really wanted to, she turned to her husband.

The two of them just stared at each other, the air around them charged.

Y/n decided to try and break a tense silence. "Hi."

His brows furrowed. "Hi..."

She smiled uncertainly at him as she contemplated her next words. "I... how are you?"

He blinked. "I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

She shrugged, the words flying out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Just feels like I haven't seen you in a long time. I've been worried."

His features softened, his eyes studying her. "I'm sorry. I have been... busy."

She nodded. "I can tell."

Despite her efforts to not let her sadness show, she knew he could tell.

"I- I can explain-"

Y/n shook her head. "There is no need to. I understand."

He blinked again. "What? You... what?"

She gave him a look. "I understand why you did it. I mean... it's not like it hasn't happened before with my previous lovers. I get it."

His mouth opened and closed like a fish, and Y/n continued.

"Look, it's... okay. I won't stop you from it. Just... I don't want to know. If you are playing me, please... keep it low. My heart can't take it anymore. Just don't let me find out. Keep it to yourself." Her voice wavered as she spoke the words that were swirling through her mind since Nina told her about what she'd seen. "Please don't throw me away."

Guilt and shock spread though his face, as if he's just made a realisation and hated it. "Y/n I am so sorry-"

His voice broke, and Y/n immediately began searching for ways to ask for forgiveness and make him happy.

"Don't apologise, my love. I know your family hates me, and I probably deserve it. I... you definitely deserve better. I know you do. And I understand." She took a deep breath, knowing she was rambling but she could not stop. "I- I am so sorry I could not give you what you want, but please, Cassian, don't-"

Cassian grabbed her face, pulling her into his chest. Y/n stilled, trying to take in a full breath as tears started escaping her eyes as she gasped and clenched her eyes shut.

"Y/n-"

But a sharp gasp cut him off, and Y/n pulled away from Cassian, finding Nesta and Rhysand staring at them. Y/n took a few steps back, not wanting to ruin whatever was giving Cassian the happiness she couldn't.

But Nesta glared at Cassian, and then Rhys. With a start, Y/n realised the high lord was staring at her.

And he had tears in his eyes.

"You were trying to get me to accept the bond with a married male?"

Everything slowed down, and Y/n stared in horror at Rhysand.

"Mates?" She whispered.

Nest looked over, making to step close. "Please forgive me. I did not know that brute was married. I would never have done what I did otherwise."

Y/n shook her head, wondering if there was a way to respond to that.

She settled on the only thing that made sense to her.

"Good night."

She turned towards the gates, and, for the first time since she had met Cassian, ignored the calls of her name by her husband, his brother and his mate as she sprinted away.

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Cassian taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter

#cassian #cassian x you #cassian x reader #acosf #cassian acotar #cassian acosf #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #night court #General of night court #lord of bloodshed #mating bond #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon

380 notes · View notes

diejager · 7 months

Note

Hello!! Can I request about monster task force 141 + könig & horangi, if thats alright for you!

Where reader is a pyramid head instead and I like to see their reaction reader having a pyramid head c:

EXCUSE ME!? ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME WITH THIS ASK?!???!? Cuz if you are, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I am still breathing! I might be kneeling for this concept, but I am still breathing.

Pyramid Head!reader

Headcanon

Pairing: Monster 141 + König + Horangi x male?reader

Cw: blood, gore, canon-typical violence, gun violence, betrayal, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2k

You looked like you came right out of a horror game, a tall, muscular figure hidden under black and dark brown fatigues, thick thighs supporting the big, rusted pyramid that hung from your head and stocky arms that could bend a man in half as easily as it was to rip paper in two. Despite being slow and stumbling around, you were an entity to bring on high-stakes missions, letting you break through their defences with a heavy hand and even heavier attacks, crashing through walls and stalking the walls for your next victim.

They were all shocked when Price talked them into accepting you, gathering them into the debrief room with your file, or your lack of one. It wasn’t easy, having you permanently transferred to their Task Force when you were so sought out by other teams for help as a long-standing mercenary and an entity. So Price was overjoyed that Laswell had managed to get you to themselves, waiting for you at the tarmac on the day you were to land.

Mixed feelings were being shared between his team when they watched you amble down the slope, head hung lowly, the tip inches from the ground. You were intimidating in person, seeming much bigger than life, finally being able to see you rather than hear of you, the haunting reputation that followed you around like a shadow. You weren’t a Ghost, someone reputed for having no living record and past, or his intimidating presence; nor were you a scary mercenary from KorTac, dangerous and imposing. You weren’t an efficient and fast-moving unit like the 141, you were just a one-man army powerful enough to rip a man in two and wield that heavy Greatsword, and despite it being a bit old-fashioned, you used better than man could use a rifle.

Price, as first mentioned, was glad his hard work came to fruition, having someone like you on his side when it mattered was amazing. He might’ve been slightly worried about his boys reacting negatively towards you, Ghost, especially with his volatile hate and distrust of strangers. Only to be reassured when he saw how, unlike the way you carried yourself on the field, you were a gentle soul, a silent one but caring nonetheless. He watched you take care of his boys, wandering behind Gaz or Rudy when they returned injured, a looming figure that cast a protective shadow over them. You were like a pillar, solid and dependable, going out of your way to get anyone that strayed behind, turning your head at a slight angle to stop a bullet from hitting the one you were protecting, and caring for them. He may not be able to hear you speak a word, to be able to hold a conversation and listen to you tell them how much you cared about him and the others, but he knew you loved - he knew you were able to love.

Ghost was distrustful of you, one with a shadow as big as yours or someone he’d worked alongside before. He kept you at an arm’s length, never too close to him so he could protect himself from another betrayal, the hurt and the sadness that came along with being betrayed by someone he trusted, and never too far so that he could watch you, analyse every thought or act you made, to stop you from hurting them before you could. He’s seen you in the field and worked on the same side, he knew that every little detail about you on the reports was true, not illusions and delusions, but factual events that happened with you beside them. He won’t lie, you were an asset - he hated using that word on any hybrid, monster or entity, but it was the truth - that people vied for and they were just lucky that you had their back and they had your undying loyalty. Your occasional sparring with him, Price and König only reinforced your care for them, holding back until he barked at you to fully come at him, you’d hesitate, but never for long. You cared for him as he cared for the others, he could see it, and now, his care was extended to you as well.

Soap was like an excited puppy meeting a new friend, past the intimidating facade and the trailing shadow behind you, you were nice. You reminded him of Ghost and König, the tall, imposing and silent figure, but unlike them, you only replied in grunts and groans, your body language being the biggest way for them to understand you. You were patient with him, bearing with his overenthusiastic tail that kept tapping your thigh and arm whenever or his rambling, your large pyramid nodding slowly, humming when you agreed with him and grunting when you disagreed. You were fun to be around, when he, Rudy and Gaz went around, bringing you along with him to play a little game, you wouldn’t snitch and you wouldn’t say a word, only shaking your head when Price or Ghost asked if they were behind it (the Captain and Lieutenant went along, seeing as they could enjoy themselves after a hard and stressful mission). He could be as shamelessly chaotic as he wanted with you, he didn’t have to entertain the egos of others or maintain a certain level of dignity, he could be himself like he could with the others. He didn’t feel like a burden beside your lengthy shadow, he felt like he was protected, and safe, but most importantly, he felt loved.

Gaz was tentative, not overly enthusiastic as Soap nor as suspicious as Ghost, he was a good mix of them both, guarded but welcoming. He didn’t mind sitting next to you and being the one to start the conversation since you always replied in hums and groans, hands moving to form the words that you couldn’t form under the pyramid. He only truly became comfortable when you went to the trouble of going back for him, stomping through the group that surrounded him when he crashed down, watching you rip the enemy apart with your swinging Greatsword that was too heavy for anyone to lift was breathtaking. Despite witnessing a scene right out of a slasher movie, his teammate in a rusted, pyramid head soaked in blood and guts, you gave him a hand and took his hand with the gentlest squeeze he ever felt. Then the little stunt you helped cover when he, Soap and Rudy were caught doing a prank on one of their leading commanders. He could depend on you, practising sign language to better understand you and simply wanting to hold the hands that saved him.

Alejandro, as usual, was easy to get along with, his charismatic and warm mannerism was easier to open up to. He might’ve been betrayed and lied to many times, but he knew a liar when he saw one after the whole Shepherd fiasco, so he knew you meant well (not that he could see your face for any indications). Unlike others of his rank, he preferred the respect given through comradery over respect through rank, he kept close to the people he worked with in the long run, forming bonds to cherish like he did with the Los Vaqueros and the men of 141. Withholding the same idea, he worked his way through your file and approached you with someone who’d won his respect and admiration from the black Ops you participated in and the people you bled to save. It was a quality he liked about you. While still being professional, he held you, he encouraged you, he embraced you just the way you were, and you reciprocated it without a second thought.

Rudy had his reservations about you, something strong, something big, something powerful, something caring, but never something deadly, dangerous or selfish. From what Alejandro told him, he couldn’t bring himself to be doubtful of your loyalty and devotion, and from what he’s seen on the field, you weren’t deserving of the reputation of a bloodthirsty monster that followed you as it did Ghost and König. You had something that made you stand out, maybe it was the contrast in your character when you looked so menacing: your softness, the gentle edge in your actions, the comforting quality in your muted response, and your active protection on and off the field. He appreciated the way you brought more to the Task Force, another pillar of stability, another ear to rant to, another person to hold, or another friend to laugh with. Even the little pranks he’d join in on, getting his commanding officers red with rage and breathless from laughing and leaving you to cover for them, your hands speaking the words you couldn’t mutter outside of simple sounds. He often ended up in the same predicament when he couldn’t stop himself, cheeks rosy and warm, heart beating fast, fingers fumbling with each other and words coming out in breathless puffs, he knew what he felt and he wasn’t so bothered by it.

Horangi wasn’t sure what to make of you, you weren’t quite human, nor were you a monster, you were a mix of both, a creation of human and monster grief and pain. Little was known about entities and Eldritch beings, and being a feline monster made him naturally curious, or slightly curious. He observed you, watching you from afar without actually interacting with you, slinking around you, golden eyes narrowing at you like a tiger in a hunt. He didn’t dare approach you until he got to know your small cues, the danger you could pose - if you could pose any from what he saw, too gentle for the creature you were - to him or the others. He only stepped forward to talk to you when König made him, feel skittish and slightly awkward for feeling like such a stranger towards someone who took multiple bullets for him when he was down. He held his head high and voice stable while he pushed through his awkwardness, listening to your soft hums and low grunts in reply to his words, he was surprised to see König so engaged in this conversation when he had an aversion towards new people. Honestly, he was just surprised that König talked so much about you. If there was anything good, he would be the first to hear about it from König. He came to know you through König and the time you spent together on missions, hostage rescue and noisy infiltrations. Your small ticks, your little quirks and your verbal handicap were all things he came to learn and like, nearly making it his duty to watch you from the side as you stumble through the halls with your back hunched over from the weight of your pyramid.

König didn’t try approaching you until he absolutely had to, or if he needed you. Be it to give you an order, to ask you something, or during Ops, it would only be a few words here and there, never something long-drawn as he had with the other men or Laswell. It was only after being sent on a quick and easy task that he let you in, letting you calm him down after his unpredictable shift and grounding him, taking back control of his erratic mind after a rough shift of mindset, from a primal and instinctual one to a rational and panicked one. Your rough calluses felt soft against his hard, scarred skin, the soothing circle of your thumb on his palm and the grip to keep him aware of his situation, to keep him grounded on his reality after the carnage he created. Despite not being able to talk, you spoke loudly through your verbal cues, your hand on your shoulder and another one in his hand, listening to him ramble away about his fears and anxieties. You would sit down with him and lend an ear to him when he came to you, even after his first interactions with you. He wondered if you had similar fears, those demoralising words that echoed in his mind on the worst days or the painful reminder of his mistakes. If you did, would you let him ease you down from your pain and care for you with his smaller hands?

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973

714 notes · View notes

waynes-multiverse · 18 days

Text

Plastic Hearts – Part 25

Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.

Chapter Warnings: +18, a tinge of angst, FLUFF

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: I'm not sad... 🥲 Honestly, I don't have words beyond gratitude and cliché goodbyes, so let's end this journey together 🤍

<< 24 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

25. Dare

“Ugh, I can’t believe you convinced everyone to come out here,” Jo groans and raises her flat palm to her brows, shielding her eyes from the scalding desert sun. “What the fuck is wrong with Palm Springs, huh?”

“C’mon, we’ve always wanted to go to Joshua Tree together since we moved to LA. This is like the perfect time,” Y/N argues cheerfully and nudges her friend with her elbow. “Look! It’s so peaceful.”

“There’s a dead carcass over there. Looks like a symbol of my marriage,” Jo deadpans.

Y/N purses her lips before compelling another positive smile to her face. “We can get rid of that. The girls really needed this after the whole Crowley debacle.”

The group left straight after the network meeting in Dean’s office this morning, which didn’t go as planned, to say the least. While several executives were surely interested, Crowley and H-ELLTV put an abrupt end to it. Apparently, they sold their fucking souls by signing a contract with the devil. Crowley’s words still rang in her ears on repeat.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, ladies, but H-ELLTV owns your characters, which means you can’t sell them to another network. You all signed a contract and made a deal. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, fucking asshole…” Jo huffs her agreement but then throws her friend a suspicious sideways look. “What’s up with you, though? Why are you so chipper and cheerful like a fucking Disney princess? I thought you of all people would be fucking depressed and devastated about the stupid show ending.”

Y/N shrugs. “I am. I’m just trying to make the best of our last weekend together. Can’t I be happy?”

“Fuck no.” Jo shakes her head. “Something’s up with you. Usually, when you’re like this, it’s overcompensation ‘cause you’ve fucked something up. If I were still married, I’d think you’ve fucked my husband all over again. So, what did you do?”

Y/N shrugs once more and keeps her eyes trained on the sprawling desert landscape in front of her. “Nothing.”

“Dean also was a bigger asshole than usual this morning. So, I’m asking again, what shit did you fuck up now?”

“Nothing, okay? Dean’s always an asshole,” Y/N deflects defensively. Although, even she has to admit – those were some spectacularly icy green eyes this morning. Not that he ever looked directly at her or spoke with her even once. She probably would’ve turned to stone if he did.

“Fine, don’t tell. God knows I don’t fucking care,” Jo says indifferently and joins the other women as they set up their tents on the campground.

Y/N lets out a small sigh as she stares at the bluest sky she’s ever seen while the hot desert sun beams down on her. She watches the girls for a while, her heart slightly cracking at the thought this might be the last time they all hang out together. This year has been the best one she’s ever had.

But then, her heart stings even more when she thinks about the one person who isn’t here, wondering what he’s doing right now. If anything, she owes it all to him.

Dean nurses his beer with a sigh, his green eyes barely paying attention to the half-naked girl who’s winding herself up and down a silver pole in front of him. This used to bring him joy – day-drinking at a strip club and watching tits bounce. But now all he thinks about is how that girl looks nothing like Y/N. None of them do.

“Hey, son. Startin’ early today,” Bobby notes with a chuckle as he sits down next to him.

“Yeah, they canceled the show.” And while that’s certainly true, it’s not the reason why Dean’s sulking at a titty bar.

“Too damn bad. I loved the show!” Bobby tells him enthusiastically. “It was insane. Good insane. It had everything – comedy, drama, heartache, tits, violence, a fucking wedding? There’s something for everyone there.”

“Well, uh, thanks, Bobby. Really appreciate it,” Dean tells him politely. He likes the guy, but he’s not in the mood for chitchat. He’s barely in the mood for naked women, for crying out loud. This is a deep fucking depression.

There are only two promises he’s made to himself: One, he won’t slump like he did after his last divorce. There will be no excessive drinking, which leads to excessively pathetic crying, which leads to a myriad of bad choices out of sheer desperation. Remember that awful dating videotape he made? Yes, there will be no more of that. And then there’s of course two, no drugs – no matter how much he tells himself he wants or fucking needs them. A tiny dot of hope seems to be still dormant in his plastic heart, reminding him that she might come back, and he doesn’t want to risk disappointing her once she does.

Dean has worked fucking hard to be the best version he can be – a version she doesn’t seem to give a shit about. But even he has to admit: He likes himself a lot better now, so he refuses to turn back to old comforts, albeit it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.

“You guys interested in doing a floor show?”

Bobby’s words pull him from his reverie. Dean arches a brow at him, straightening a bit in his seat. “What? Here?”

Bobby rolls his eyes. “No, idjit. My wife Ellen has some stakes in a club on the Vegas Strip. She manages the hotel there, too. They’re looking for a new headliner. Just do the exact same show, night after night, 300 miles east. Vegas is where the money is. Headliners make at least 25 grand a week. You think that gym is big? We have to fill 1,100 seats.”

Dean stumps and blinks at the old man a bit baffled. “Well, uh… I’ll think about it. Talk to my partner, the girls…”

Bobby smiles and pats his shoulder as he gets up. “You do that. I’ll call you tomorrow. Now, how about a lap dance? On the house. Can pick any girl that fancies your heartache. You ain’t foolin’ an old man like me.”

Dean chuckles. “Nah, I’m good. But thanks. Think I’m gonna head home and drink myself into a coma there.”

“It’s getting dark soon. How much longer?” Jo’s brown eyes dart to Y/N as she drags her feet over a rocky path. The sun stings less than it did when they started their little hike, but her skin feels perfectly tanned by now and the water is running low.

“Uh, I think it’s supposed to be just up ahead that hill,” Y/N muses and swirls her head around the formation of rocks that all look the same, squinting her eyes into the distance.

Jo sighs, and her stare intensifies. “You’ve been saying that for over an hour. Are we lost?”

“Noooo…” Y/N doesn’t sound convincing and surely doesn’t fool Jo with her reply.

“Alright, gimme the map.”

“I don’t have the map. I gave it to Meg.”

Jo groans and rolls her eyes, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

“What? Meg’s the trail leader. Trail leader gets the map,” Y/N defends her faux pas with reason.

“Great! So we’re fucking lost in the desert,” the blonde huffs.

Y/N chuckles lightly, mostly out of uncomfortableness and panic she tries to hide behind it. “No, there’s a trail marker right over there,” she says, pointing to a pile of rocks. “That looks manmade.”

Jo quirks her brow. “You mean like that pile of rocks? Or that one over there?”

Y/N follows her friend’s gaze, only to realize that there are lots of piles of rock that all look too fucking similar. She purses her lips and scratches her head before resting her arms on her squared-off hips. “I think we’re lost.”

“Yeah.” With an exhaustive sigh, Jo plops down on another pile of rocks and watches as the orange sun dips behind the horizon, shadows of blue slowly crawling across the desert floor and swallowing the light.

Y/N clumsily lowers herself down next to the blonde. Her leg hurts like a bitch, and the desert sand that has wound its way into her cast itches a good deal. Her hands and arms hurt as well from clinging to her crutches all afternoon. Maybe Dean was right, and this was a bad idea, after all. Why does he always have to be fucking right about everything? How can one person be so annoying and frustrating all at once?

“Well, you finally get your wish,” Jo deadpans. “We’re gonna die together.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N says ruefully and looks at the first stars appearing in the night sky. “Maybe the stars will guide us home.”

Jo just looks at her, unamused and unsurprised. “You’ve never been camping, have you?”

Y/N twitches her shoulders apologetically. “It was only supposed to be a three-mile moderate beginner’s trail to a beautiful vista. It’s what the guidebook said.”

Jo shakes her head and blows a raspberry, hugging her knees. “Joanna Wesson, 27, found dead near a random cluster of rocks that might have looked like a trail marker. She was best known for playing Beth Crowne on the soap opera Paradise Bay before trying to revive her career on an unsuccessful wrestling show. She is survived by her son, Sammy, and her bitter ex-husband Sam with his secretary Jessica.”

“Well, at least you get an obituary,” Y/N quips. “Mine would just read: Soap Star Found Dead Next to Unidentified Woman in National Park.”

Jo even snorts at that. “Well, I’m sure Dean would cut and edit an adorable video tribute with a bunch of B-roll about you at your funeral.”

“Yeah, maybe…” Y/N pensively licks her lips, her heart doing those painful twinges again whenever she thinks of him. “You know yet what you’re gonna do next?”

“No, I-… I think I wanna produce,” Jo announces with determination in her hazel eyes. “I don’t wanna ask permission. I’m so tired of it all. For once, I wanna boss people around and tell ‘em what to do. You know, you were right.”

Baffled, Y/N raises a brow. “About what?”

“Men,” Jo says simply and then spits with fire, “I fucking hate them all. The Crowleys and the Dicks and the Cases and the Sams and the Deans… They make the choices. They dictate the terms… I’m sick of it all. I just hate asking them for anything.”

“Dean’s not so bad,” Y/N says quietly but doesn’t look at Jo. Her heart stings for the millionth time. “I got that role for the Sondheim musical. They called this morning.”

Jo’s lips curve into a soft smile that reaches her eyes. “Congrats. I’m not surprised. You were really fucking good.”

Y/N’s heart flutters a little at the compliment. Tears begin to sting her eyes. She can’t remember the last time Jo was nice to her. “Thank you.”

“You don’t seem happy about it,” Jo notes attentively.

“No, I am,” Y/N manages to choke out, but the sniffling betrays her intentions.

“But?”

Y/N bobs her head, swallowing. “I think I’m ready to talk about it now.”

“Fucking finally,” Jo huffs and rubs her cold and goosebump-littered arms as the heat disappears, the nightly air bringing a fresh breeze.

“Dean told me he loves me,” Y/N confesses. “He’s in love with me.”

“Yeah, no shit. Kinda obvious,” Jo says without a twitch of surprise. “Don’t feel bad for not loving him back. That’s what they want… For us to feel bad about every single fucking thing.”

“That’s just it. I don’t think that’s how I feel,” Y/N replies and lets out a jittery sigh.

Jo’s head turns to her, eyeing her friend up and down. “And how do we feel about that? I can’t tell. It’s too dark to see your face.”

“I-, uh, I don’t exactly know,” Y/N says, which is partially true. She might know how she feels about the green-eyed director, but not how she feels about the situation overall.

Jo purses her lips and nods. “Alright, here’s a couple of options: happy, excited, scared, or… repulsed?”

“Well, uhm… scared,” Y/N admits slowly and gulps. “And excited… happy.”

Jo throws her arms up, shaking her head at the stars. “Jesus fuck! Then what the fuck are we doing here?! Is that why you dragged me all the way to the fucking desert? Because you’re running from your feelings?”

“Kinda. I thought the peaceful quiet and beautiful nature would bring me some much-needed clarity,” Y/N explains.

Jo lifts a brow but tries not to seem too annoyed. She’s accustomed to her friend’s theatrics, after all. “And? Did it?”

“The hike didn’t, but facing death kinda does,” Y/N jokes and begins to laugh a little, Jo soon joining her. When their laughter dies down and the desert sounds of chirping crickets and screeching eagles remain, Y/N exhales a shaky breath. “I’m in love with him, too. He makes me really fucking happy. But… I finally feel like I’m on the right track with my career. I am where I’m supposed to be, you know? I don’t wanna throw that away for a guy.”

“Who says you should?”

“I don’t know… Isn’t that how it goes? You did it,” Y/N argues.

Jo licks her lips and clicks her tongue. “Yeah, ‘cause I chose the wrong fucking guy. Sam made me give up everything I ever loved and told me what to love instead. If you pick the right guy, he won’t make you do that.”

“How do I know it’s the right guy, though?”

Jo smiles softly. “Look, I’m not Dean’s biggest fan, but he’s yours. You know that, right? He’d never hold you back. He adores the ground you walk on. Yes, he’s an asshole with so many fucking issues, and he’s goddamn annoying most of the time, but he’s always had your back, even when he pretended that he didn’t. The guy would probably sell every limb and his fucking soul to see you get everything you ever wanted, Y/N. He wouldn’t be a mistake. You know what would be a mistake? Not trying because you’re too scared of making one. Don’t be fucking stupid.”

Thoughtfully, Y/N nods in agreement and grabs her crutches, rising from her rocky seat. “I need to see him. We have to head back to the city.”

“Finally! Thank fucking God.” With a grunt, Jo jumps to her feet and helps Y/N to steady hers. “Maybe the girls made a fire bright enough, so we can find our way back.”

“Shit.”

“What? They have matches, don’t they? I’m sure these bitches can manage a simple fire, right?” Jo then notices Y/N’s hand curling around her bicep, her grip tightening. And then, Jo glances in the direction of Y/N’s eyes and sees the same damn thing. Her brown eyes widen.

“Mountain lion.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” the blonde hisses and holds on to her friend as well. Both women freeze on the spot. “What-, uh, what should we do?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we should throw a stick?”

“A stick?” Jo arches her brow. The big cat snarls and stalks a little closer, making the two women jump back. Their hearts are thumping in their throats at this point. “It’s not a fucking dog, Y/N. It won’t play fetch with you.”

“I know that. How about you come up with a better idea, then?” Y/N snaps through gritted teeth. The lion hisses again, causing the women to tremble down to their bones and hug each other tighter. “I think I should jump it.”

“Are you nuts? No!”

“Look, while it eats me, you can flee. I can’t run with my cast anyways. This is the best option,” Y/N insists, but Jo vehemently shakes her head.

“Fuck no! You’re not sacrificing yourself. We die together. You’re not leaving me behind,” Jo maintains. “I always knew my death would be your fault. Don’t ask me how, but I knew you’d get me killed somehow.”

The wild cat takes another step forward and lowers to the ground as if to get ready to jump its prey – them. But then a few tumbling rocks and breaking twigs draw its attention behind the women. Is there an even bigger cat here?

And suddenly, Meg leaps forward from above them with a loud howl and snarls at the cat, which hastily tucks its tail between its legs and flees down the hill into the dark night. Y/N and Jo expel a big breath of relief and a shaky laugh as they find Meg.

“Meg, what the fuck? Did you just scare away a mountain lion?” Y/N gapes at her friend in utter disbelief.

Meg only shrugs her shoulders. “I hate cats. What are you guys doing out here so long?”

“We got lost. Couldn’t find our way back to camp,” Y/N explains.

Meg furrows her brow and thumbs behind her. “It’s just over there. You guys have been hiking around the same hill for five hours.”

Jo shoots Y/N a small glare of annoyance and blows some loose strands of blonde hair out of her face. “Of course we did…” she mutters.

“We have to get back to LA!” Y/N declares eagerly, trying to climb the small rocky hill with her crutches, foregoing the more suitable pathway.

“Right now? It’s probably 3am when we get to Burbank. Can’t this wait till tomorrow?” Jo says as she attempts to climb after her friend.

“No! I almost died! Twice… Dean needs to know how I feel before I get bit by a rattlesnake, too,” Y/N reiterates passionately.

“It’s probably for the best,” Meg chimes in. “We kinda forgot to pack food. I was about to hunt something for us when I ran into you guys. We have tons of drugs and booze, though.”

Y/N’s knuckles thunder persistently on Dean’s door and conjure up a storm. She has jumped out of Ruby’s limo so fast, the girls are still scrambling out and flooding Dean’s front lawn one by one. They’re loud and obnoxious, but the ringing in her ears makes their chatter barely noticeable.

The lock clicks and the door opens. Dean stands in front of her with weary green eyes, heavy with sleep, tousled bed-head, and a furiously scrunched brow. He half yawns and half grumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Once he feels clearer, minus the soft buzz of whiskey remnants in his bloodstream, he blinks at the young actress in front of him and then tilts his head at the circus show behind her.

God, between his punk rock daughter and this, his neighbors must really hate him.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you guys supposed to be camping in fucking Joshua Tree?” His voice is a gravelly bark. He doesn’t mean to sound so harsh, especially when he just woke from a dream about her, but he’s not as masochistic as he used to be. He’s not a fan of torturing himself with the image of her any longer.

Y/N’s heart somersaults as soon as she sees him, even though his apprehension hurts a bit. “Look, I almost died tonight. We got lost in the desert and then a mountain lion almost fucking ate us.”

Dean licks his lips, nodding. “Yeah, I’m not fucking surprised. Told you Palm Springs is the better option. So, did anyone fucking die? What’s the head count?”

“No one died.”

“Huh. Then why the fuck are you here in the middle of the night, Y/N?” Dean bites, his brow creasing in anger. He can’t even fucking look at her for a second without his heart being on the brink of an explosion. Even saying her goddamn name hurts like needle pricks in an abused vein.

“I–” Y/N swallows thickly. Her drumming heart is stuck in her airway along with her words.

“She’s here to tell you she loves you!” Ruby hollers behind her before several girls tackle her and clasp her mouth shut.

Dean’s heart twists upon the sick joke, his frown deepening. But then he glances at Y/N and thinks he can spot the truth in her eyes. He thought that once before, though, and was terribly wrong.

Y/N gives a shrug of one shoulder with tears brimming in her eyes. A small smile forms on her lips. “What she said.”

Dean nods and drags a hand over his freckled face, feeling the tears well in his eyes, too. Fucking whiskey. Always renders him goddamn sentimental. “Look, uhm, you kinda gotta tell me this yourself. Otherwise, I won’t believe it, okay?”

Upon his request, Y/N takes a deep breath and looks him into his eyes. “I’m in fucking love with you.” As soon as the words are out, she starts crying and the tears fall down her cheeks. Meanwhile, Dean’s heart tumbles into free fall, and he’s sure not even a parachute can stop it. “I’ve never said that to anyone in my life. Is-, is it too late?”

Dean snorts and shakes his head, grinning brighter than the California sun on the longest day of the year. “Fuck no. Even if it had taken you thirty years, I still would’ve taken you back. That’s kinda how once-in-a-lifetime love works, sweetheart.”

“Okay. Sounds like a good movie,” Y/N jokes between her tears, her fingers tingling to touch him.

“Yeah, best one there is.”

His hands grab hold of her and pull her into his embrace. He claims her lips, Y/N eagerly parting her mouth as his tongue slips between. The kiss is rushed and fervent and perfectly desperate. They’re both so gone they can’t even hear the girls cheering and applauding them in the background.

“You’re gonna come inside?” Dean asks in a murmur against her lips, barely letting her breath.

“Uhm…”

“Hey, Lothario, you got space for us, too?” Cassie shouts with a wide smirk.

“Yeah, we’re fucking starving,” Ruby adds with an impatiently arched brow.

“We, uh, forgot to pack food,” Y/N explains with a chuckle.

Dean sighs and smiles knowingly. “Of course you did.” He then turns to the women waiting on his lawn. “Alright, get in. I’ll order some pizzas.”

The women then proceed to brush past the couple and filter into Dean’s house. Missouri pinches his cheeks, Ruby pats his head, Cassie fist-bumps him and sends Y/N a flirty wink, Meg tousles his hair, Charlie shrugs apologetically, and Jo offers an annoyed eye roll.

“I’m never gonna get rid of them, am I?” Dean looks down at her and tightens his jaw, even when a grin is visible.

“No, I’m afraid not. It’s like you’ve adopted twelve strays. One of which actually turned out to be your long-lost puppy. They’re gonna be here until you die and then eat your corpse,” Y/N quips.

“Funny.” Dean clicks his tongue, his dimples itching to form a grin.

“Oooo! Let’s call the guys!” he hears Ruby exclaim from inside his living room. “It’s a fucking wrap party at the boss’ house!”

“No! No party! Guys, c’mon!” Dean storms inside after them, leaving Y/N giggling on his doorstep.

“Let’s call Garth, Kevin, and Benny!” Donna suggests, ignoring his protests. It’s like they can’t fucking hear him.

“I’ll call my husband, too!” Bela adds and eagerly dials Cas’ number on his landline.

“Oh, right, Cas…” Dean mutters with an eye roll as he remembers the impromptu wedding. “No fucking Benny!”

Y/N joins his side and rubs his back in comfort as he watches his house sink into female doom. “You okay?”

The deep trenches in his brow flatten into soft valleys as his green eyes lock on her. He dips his head and pulls her to his lips, kissing her slow and reverently. “Better.” He smirks. “Just gonna have to sage the whole house tomorrow.”

That earns him a playful slap on his chest. He laughs and pulls her closer with an arm around her waist.

“Hey, uh, speaking of party…” Dean mumbles before he addresses the whole room, grabbing their attention with an authoritative clear of his throat. He’s still got it. “You guys wanna do shows in Vegas?”

“What?!”

Dean’s eyes find Y/N’s gaping face. He chuckles a little. “Yeah, uh, Bobby offered me a deal. There’s nothing in the network contract about live shows. I already went over it with Cas this afternoon. It pays well, too. You guys interested? It’s not like any of you have actual jobs lined up, right?”

Y/N closes her mouth. “I got that Sondheim musical in San Diego. It’s a workshop production, but if it goes well, it could go all the way to Broadway. I could end up in New York.”

“Good,” Dean says and smirks. “You’re fucking fired.”

“WHAT?!” Y/N’s mouth falls open again. “You said you’d never fire me!”

“Yeah, well, this is for your own good,” Dean reasons. “You think I’m gonna let you quit Sondheim for some stupid wrestling show in Vegas? You gotta be fucking nuts! This is what you fucking wanted. Don’t make me kick your stupid ass onto that stage. It’s gonna look embarrassing for you again…”

Y/N bites her lips to conceal her grin. Her eyes meet Jo’s, who mouths ‘I told you so’ at her. “Thank you,” she tells Dean and kisses his cheek. He furrows his brow at her in suspicion. “But rehearsals don’t start until June. Still gonna need a job till then.”

“Oh.” Dean’s brow shoots up in realization. “The June in nine months?”

“Yeah, the June in nine months,” Y/N confirms with a laugh.

“Whoops. Well, consider yourself rehired till June, then,” Dean relents.

“So, if I ever have to work in New York–”

“Then we’ll go to New York. Big fucking whoop-dee-doo. You know I hate LA.”

Y/N giggles, nodding. “What would you do in New York?”

“Same I do here, just on a little balcony instead of a backyard. I sit with my typewriter by a table and smoke and drink,” Dean retorts. “I’ve actually been working on a new script. I’m moving away from horror and into Western.”

“Got inspired by the motel’s wallpaper, huh?” Y/N teases. “What’s it about?”

“Father-daughter storyline. Thought I’d give that a shot…”

1990, 5 years later…

“Dean! We’re gonna be late!” Y/N reminds him and holds the blindfold in place over her eyes as he drags her somewhere by the hand. Her heels can barely keep up with his fast pace. “You know, check-in at LAX is the worst. Our flight departs in two hours. I’m nominated, Dean! I can’t reschedule! The girls are all flying in, too…”

“I know! I’m fucking hurrying, okay?” Dean assures. However, she can hear the stress and tension in his gravelly voice. He then suddenly halts and positions her into place by her shoulders before carefully taking off the blindfold. “Alright, here we are.”

Y/N blinks her eyes open and recognizes blurry shapes of purple and gold. She lifts an eyebrow as ornaments on the walls and a big stage come into view as well. “The Aztec porno theater?”

“Mayan,” Dean corrects her and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he gets down in front of her on one knee and tries to fumble out the too-big ring box from his too-tiny suit jacket pocket. “Son of a bitch!”

“Dean, wait!” Y/N stops his endeavor with raised palms, her eyebrows meeting her hairline when she realizes what he’s about to do.

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N!” Dean frowns in frustration and rises to his feet with a huff and a shaking head. “I know you’re against marriage and the patriarchy and all that bullshit, but c’mon… We’ve been dating for five years. We have a good thing going, right?”

After spending a whole year in beautiful Las Vegas – the Paris of Nevada – the two of them moved to New York. Dean sold his house in Burbank and opted for a Brooklyn apartment instead. Claire also studied film at NYU before she graduated last Spring. But every few months, the couple finds themselves back in LA – for interviews, for business, for friends.

“Dean–”

“No! You know me. I’d make a great fucking husband. You love it when I make reporters laugh on the red carpet. I’m an awesome trophy husband, okay?”

“DEAN!”

“WHAT?!”

Why the fuck is she angry now? He should be the one that’s angry. She’s turning down the best opportunity of her life. She should consider herself lucky he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. He even had an amazing speech prepared to knock her right off her feet, but does he get to say it now? How he wanted to grow fucking old together and support each other? How he wanted to marry her all those years ago when she told him she was pregnant? Nope...

“I’m fucking pregnant!”

Dean blinks at her in confusion before his eyes begin to wander around the familiar theater. Did he take something? Drink too much? Did he actually travel through time or is this a weird fever dream on his deathbed?

“What’s it with you and this theater? And why do you always yell that?”

“Because you never listen.” Y/N giggles and bites her lower lip. “And I’ll gladly marry you if that’s what you were going for. I just figured I’d tell you before in case you wanna change your mind and bail.”

“Why the fuck would I bail?” Dean’s brows knit together, close to offense.

She shrugs and holds up her palms in surrender. “I don’t know! I didn’t want you to feel trapped.”

“Why? Isn’t it mine?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, a grin twitching on her pink lips as she slaps his arm. “Yes, of course it’s yours.”

“And you’re keeping it? You sure?” Dean throws her a quizzical look.

Her brow furrows. “Why, you aren’t?”

“No, I am!” he assures her swiftly, realizing how it sounded. “Hell yeah, I want another kid! You know I always wanted to make up for missing out on Claire so much! I finally get to change a diaper, go to the park, or the fucking zoo while my wife works… It’ll be so fun!”

Y/N tries to stifle her laugh. He seems happy, judging by the joyful glint in his green eyes. They resemble sparkling emeralds.

“But are you sure, y' know?” Dean checks with a deep look into her eyes. “I mean, I do what I can to support you and keep the thing alive in your absence, but you know you’re still gonna be benched for a couple of months, right? I’m not a fucking seahorse.”

Y/N laughs a little at that. “I know. I’m fine with sitting on the bench for a little while. I’m kinda exhausted. I did two Broadway musicals almost back to back, three off-Broadway shows, all the workshops and the rehearsals and Matinees and the dancing and the singing… Not to mention I’m nominated for a fucking Tony tonight,” she says and is close to out of breath by the time she finishes her list of accomplishments.

“Which you’re gonna win,” Dean reassures her persistently. He’s been telling her since the nominations were announced (and even before that when he first saw her in the role on the first night).

“We’ll see,” she brushes him off, although her blushed cheeks betray her words. In her heart, she hopes so as well. “Anyways, I could use the break,” she admits and takes his hands in hers, interlacing their fingers. She places a loving kiss on his lips. “Right time, right guy, right baby,” she says, smiling.

Dean squeezes her hand happily and pulls her to his lips for a searing kiss. “So, where did we land on that whole marriage thing?”

“See? You’re never listening,” she teases, laughing. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Under one condition…”

Dean smirks. “I've had the same exact thought – Vegas. It’s perfect!”

“What, no! I don’t wanna get married in filthy Vegas, you dork!” Y/N frowns playfully, shaking her head. “I wanna get married in Nebraska. I want my dad to marry us."

Dean’s brow creases. He chuckles in amusement. “What, like a shotgun wedding? Could be fun… Pastor marries pregnant daughter to older man. Is this gonna make headlines in the townie paper?”

Y/N snorts, shaking her head at him. “No, it’s a shotgun wedding. It’s very common,” she deadpans.

“I’ve never met your parents,” Dean realizes then. “Why have I never met your parents? It’s weird they never come visit you,” he ponders.

“Oh no, they do,” Y/N tells him, pursing her lips as she twirls her hair around her finger. “They’ve seen me both in Into The Woods and Gypsy.”

“Really, when?” Dean narrows his eyes at her.

“Whenever you were in LA, visiting Claire,” Y/N admits ruefully. She never told them she was dating the director, not sure if they’d approve – not that she gives a shit, but she wanted to spare herself all the sermons and the exploring of the Sunday school dating pool. Whenever they asked who owned the men’s clothes in her apartment, she lied and said she had a gay-but-in-the-closet roommate. “But you can meet them now,” she promises with a reassuring smile on her lips. Thank God she’s an excellent, Tony-nominated actress. “I’m sure they learn to love you just like I did.”

“Learn to?”

“I love you.” Y/N smiles mischievously and shuts up any further comments by kissing him.

Dean grins and relents with a blissful sigh. “I love you, too.”

THE END 🌅

Thank you all so much for reading and making me laugh with your comments and screams throughout! 🤍

Are we done with these two for good? Probably not. I've left gaps and doors open on purpose, so I'm sure they'll make an appearance again at some point in the future 😉

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70

82 notes · View notes

saintsenara · 4 months

Note

thoughts on ron weasley/tom riddle?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

guess it's time to out myself as a ronmort girly...

obviously, as far as fandom stats go, this is the niche crack pairing when it comes to lord voldemort getting into the funky way with a member of the golden trio. both tomarrymort and tomione/volmione have thousands upon thousands of works and stans prepared to fight to the death over insignificant things.

ronmort has... three fans in a trench coat and immaculate vibes.

i am genuinely shocked that it isn't bigger as a pairing - surely we're all agreed that "i have seen your heart, and it is mine" is an outrageously romantic thing for the locket-horcrux to say to ron? surely we've all deeped that the locket makes its bid to save itself by showing ron softcore pornography? - but not, i think it's worth saying, because i think there's any merit in the tedious fanon [particularly prevalent in ships which pair hermione with other men] that ron is a closet blood-supremacist who'd make an amazing death eater. he's not - he's principled and loyal and, even in a world where voldemort wins and he's the only member of the trio left alive, he's not going over to the dark side. it sounds too much like hard work.

instead, i back ronmort as a pairing because ron is... kind of mother. and we all know lord v's very much in want of one of those.

he likes to look after people and he channels his negative emotions into doing so [he wouldn’t have left the tent if harry and hermione had learned how to shoplift properly and he could be settled in front of a nice pot, and i’ll die on that hill]. just imagine little captive ron - maybe the snatchers recognised him, maybe voldemort’s won and everyone else is dead - bustling around his gilded prison in malfoy manor making the dark lord a cup of tea when he turns up to psychologically torture him. voldemort would - as i am - be intrigued.

i have two recs for the pairing - wind tunnels by @mrmxlemons and ghouls in the attic by speechwriter - and i also have a statement of fact which I know many of the girlies [gender neutral] won't like to hear...

ronmort is less of a crack ship than tomione, sorry to be the bearer of bad news.

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #ronmort #tom riddle #lord voldemort #ron weasley

45 notes · View notes

thelonelyarchon · 18 days

Text

📮RETURN TO SENDER ᯓᡣ𐭩

004 - rejected

Note: written text up ahead after divider

ONCE you turned the knob of the door that leads you to the living room, you half-expected to deal with the questions your other friends had for you. Locking yourself in the bathroom for five hours is not normal per se, but it was much needed for your sanity.

You’re surprised by the lack of your other friends’ presence. To give you and Kaveh some space to reconcile, they’ve stealthily hidden themselves behind a large china cabinet. You noticed them either way. If Kaveh noticed their presence too, he didn’t make it obvious that he did.

Kaveh stood in the middle of the room with a tight-lipped expression and guilty eyes that one would think he did something more horrible than just sending out a letter that wasn’t supposed to be sent. You narrowed your eyes at him. He winces.

Proud as you were, you knew Kaveh didn’t do anything wrong. He had only followed the instruction you have given him in the first place. Maybe your stubbornness looked for excuses to rationalize your own fault so Kaveh who had done the unthinkable got your rage.

When you see his guilty state, you sighed and walked towards.

“Ten minutes. Let’s talk this out.” You said in a weak voice.

Kaveh looked like a wilted flower. At the sound of your voice, he perks up just fine. He had been blaming himself for being reckless. As anyone who knew him would comment on that particular trait. He didn’t want you to hate him for this.

“Hey, I’m sorry, [name.]” He starts. You shake your head.

“What do you mean? I should be the one saying sorry. Between the two of us, it was my fault.”

“I mailed the letter.”

“I told you to mail them, though. You didn’t know which one is which so it was my fault,” you walked closer to him. “For that… I’m sorry. Don’t work yourself up too much.”

In an attempt to console him of the guilt he has, you pat his shoulder and give him a smile. He hesitantly smiled back.

“Also, if you think I’m mad because you were the one who sent the letter, you’re wrong. I’m mad at myself.” You laugh.

“So, this is settled now? Are we friends again?” Kaveh asked.

“It depends on the contents of that letter.” You used your lips to point at the letter on his hand, hanging at his side. He looks at it and raises it.

“It’s from Alhaitham.”

“I know.”

“You may not like the contents.”

“I know.”

“You still want to read it?” He confirms for the third time. You grab it from his hand and nods. Kaveh sucks in a sharp breath and waits.

You opened the letter and scanned the contents of the letter. The more you read the letter, the more your vision began to blur and the whirlwind of emotions began to suffocate you. You feel your heart breaking with each line coming from Alhaitham. You already expected this kind of reply. But it still hurt deep inside. To stop you from reading it, Kaveh covers your vision of the letter with his hand.

“That’s enough,” he said softly.

“I guess we’re not friends anymore, Kaveh.” You laugh jokingly through streams of tears. “I need a moment.”

“S-sure.” He watches you as you walk towards the other end of your dorm. You weakly throw Alhaitham’s letter away before sitting out on the small hanging balcony. Out of curiosity, Kaveh walked towards the bin and reads your letter. He notices the original letter he sent to Alhaitham.

Dear [Name],

I hope this letter finds you in good health. To begin with, I did not expect to receive such a letter on such short notice. I have read the contents of your letter thoroughly, and I have contemplated what to write back to you in correspondence.

I must admit I am flustered by your words of praises, Ms. [Name]. However, I would like to apologize for being a bearer of bad news.

Though I appreciate your enthusiasm and 'profound love for me,' I regret to inform you that I cannot return those feelings.

My feelings are reserved only for the one who makes my heart beat with fervor. I’m afraid someone already has the right to those feelings.

Enclosed with this reply is your letter. It may be best for me to return it to you. If we ever pass by each other or whether or not you approach me some other time, I shall treat you as though I know nothing so we may start anew.

I hope I didn’t ruin this day any further for you. For all that it’s worth, happy valentine’s day. Have a nice day.

Sincerely,

Alhaitham

Kaveh sighs and reaches the letter on the trash bin. He didn’t know what to do with it but something in him is saying that this will be needed someday. Maybe he’ll keep it safe until then. Maybe [Name] will need it someday.

prev | masterlist | next

TAGLIST: @makimakimi @yura-4life

#genshin impact #lily's corner | soc med au 🧸☁️₊˚⊹⋆#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x fem reader #alhaitham x reader socmed au #socmed au #social media au #genshin men #genshin men x reader #genshinimpact #alhaitham x reader smau #smau #alhaitham x reader fic #alhaitham x female reader

38 notes · View notes

sofasoap · 1 year

Text

Losing you

Pairing: König x f!Reader ( OC aka “Mini” MacTavish ) Summary: Nothing shakes him, even facing enemies on the battlefield. Until he gets the call. Part of König's route in Mini MacTavish verse.

A/N : Part of @saltofmercury ’s ““The Favorite MacTavish” , where the reader/OC is Soap’s little sister. Thanks to her kindness leading me her character :D

“masterlist” for more stories to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

König couldn’t stop the shake in his hands when dialling the number to his brother in law. “I heard. We are on our way.” Soap picked up and answered in one ring. Short and yet to the point. König can hear the noises and banging sound in the background and he rushes towards the transporter himself.

“PA.” König was shocked when he heard his son’s voice and not yours when he picked up the call on his burner phone. During the time you two are together and married, never once you rang or message him on the burner phone. No news is good news.

“Alex?”

“Pa…Ma.. Ma….. she..” “Deep breath son, What is going on?” König tries his best to calm his son down, or trying to calm himself down as well?? Why is his son ringing him instead of you? What is going on?

The news of you being in an accident sent König reeling. His Liebling. His love. When he got to the hospital, Soap and Ghost were already there, standing outside the entrance of the ICU, doing their best to comfort their nephew. “PA!” Alex ran towards his dad, not able to contain emotion anymore. Bending down to scoop his boy into his embrace, doing his best not to cry together with him.

“I’m sorry Pa I’m so sorry.. I couldn’t protect Ma like I promised..” Alex burst out crying in his father’s hold, apologising again and again. König closed his eyes, the amount of expectation he had put on his young boy to look after his mother while he was away, and now the guilt eating him up. He felt bad putting the pressure onto him. “Shh.. Sh.. It's ok, You did well. You have done well boy..” patting his back, kissing him lightly on the head, trying to let his son know he isn’t the one to blame. “What’s her condition? Can I go in and see her?” König holds his son, rocking him gently, anxious to know the update as Soap comes up to him.

“Critical but stable.” He lowered his head and pressed his lip tight together before letting out a sigh and ruffling his own mohawk, “They had to revive her twice. Not quite sure how much damage that has done to her.”

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Ghost talking to his wife, still in her PPE gear,discussing something in hush and low voice, with him nodding his head, brows furrowed. She noticed Konig out of the corner of her eyes, and called out to him.

“König,” Rachel jerked her head, indicating him to come up towards her. He stood up, adjusting his hold of his son while he walked towards her.

“We have to put her in an induced coma,” eyeing the boy, and looking at the two men she paused. König whispered to his son, Alex nodded his head before giving his dad a tight hug and a kiss, before being passed over to Ghost. Giving him a pat on the back, Ghost took the boy towards the cafeteria. Leaving the three adults to talk alone.

“Johnny probably told you, we had to resuscitate her twice already.” Staying as professional as she could, not letting her emotions get involved, “I am sorry to be the bearer of the bad news König, we are doing the best we can. But for the moment, only time will tell.”

Leading both of them into the ICU, passing by few of the other patients and towards your bedside. It took every ounce of König’s determination not to kneel and breakdown as he finally saw you, batter and bruised, a deep gash on the side of your head, the shallow rising and falling of your chest and constant beeping of machine, is his only reassurance that you are still alive, on this world.

“We’ll take Alex home, König. You stay here with her tonight.” Soap fatigue and stress evident in his eyes

Not trusting his own voice, König grabbed Soap’s arm firmly, as a sign of gratitude, Soap took one last look at his sister and left the ICU. König sat there with you for days, and nights. Watching you silently fighting for your life. Family and team mates taking turns to come and check on König and your recovery progress. This is the moment he is grateful that his family and brother in arms are there to help him out.

“It was hard. Not knowing when you were going to wake up or not.”“ I thought I had lost my big teddy bear… the only man I love…” He thought back to your words, when he recovered from his battle injury. Now he understand that uncertainty, the despair, The fear. The fear of losing you forever.

#könig x reader #könig imagine #könig x you #könig call of duty #konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig x you #cod mw2

229 notes · View notes

hot-soop · 7 months

Text

don't let me tempt you / ch.1

pairing: angel!seokjin x angel!f.reader ⇢ au: Good Omens universe (none of the characters or the plot are mentioned so this fic can be read without knowing anything of Good Omens) ⇢ genre: forbidden romance, friends 2 lovers, comedy(?), fluff, eventual smut (not in this chapter) ⇢ summary: Seokjin is temporarily banished from Heaven and you're not all that good at paperwork. ⇢ chapter wc: 4.5k ⇢ rating: fic rating is explicit/18+ for eventual smut; chapter rating is 16 & up bc they're the equivalent of ken dolls rn, but minors please DNI anyway. This isn't for you. ⇢ chapter warnings: LOTS of religious imagery bc this is set in the Good Omens universe and there's gonna be a bunch of biblical references, but please remember that this isn't meant to be accurate. Author is an atheist. Author did next to no research on calendars that pre-date the Georgian one bc she is lazy and can't do maths. Swearing. If there's any tags you think I'm missing, please let me know - I'd hate to be the cause of any upset or discomfort <3 ⇢ a/n: thank u to my beloveds @the-boy-meets-evil and @ugh-yoongi for reading this over and thinking my babies are cute. thank u to my angel @effortandmore for your encouragement! Ur all cute too. Ily

1106 BC

Time in 1106 BC follows some kind of construct that the author has not deemed necessary to research, but if the Georgian calendar (or indeed days of the week) had been invented, the day our story begins would be in mid April, on a Tuesday, around 3pm.

The weather in Heaven is, as you would expect, perfect. The company is not.

“Sorry to bring you in here like this,” you say, as the thirteenth angel of the day takes a seat on the other side of your desk.

There’s a spiel to this. Angels have a tendency to lean towards the dramatic, so you’ve learned the ways of ‘softening the blow’, as the humans call it. Doling out God’s punishments wasn’t your preferred assignment, but it’s the role that was dropped in your lap after you quit the last - and you’re not in a position to refuse Her again. Here goes another.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news but-”

“Let me guess,” the other angel interjects. “She’s demoting me?”

This is unusual. The angels know God’s wrath, but they’re usually surprised to find out when said wrath is directed toward them specifically. Not this one, he’s sitting there, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently, waiting for you to rip off the bandaid.

“Uhh. A temporary banishment actually.”

He stares at you. “It was only a little miracle.”

“Three very large miracles, I’ll have you know. We’re not supposed to be bringing people back from the dead anymore.”

“Since when?” he asks, rather like a petulant human toddler.

You frown. “Since protocol changed - didn’t you read the memo?” The angel shakes his head. “God’s decided to save those types of miracles for someone really special in-” You pause to check your watch “- a thousand years, give or take a century.”

“Special how?” The angel asks, sitting up a little straighter.

“You know we’re not told details of The Great Plan.” You flip the file shut. “Well, it seems like you know the issue at hand, and there’s little else to discuss-”

There’s a look of unease creeping over his assigned face that gives you pause. His fingertips drum on his knee. Too human for a heavenly body. “Are you alright?”

“She’s not- they’re not going to cut-”

“Oh! Goodness no,” you’re quick to reassure. “Oh no, you’d have to do something really awful for that, like, question her authority like Lucifer did.” His laugh comes out like a bark, and you’re confused because it wasn’t a joke. “No, but I am terribly sorry to say that you’re being sentenced to four-hundred years on Earth.”

He blinks twice. “Excuse me?”

“Four-hundred years - horrid, I know. But God does say the punishment must fit the deed-”

You’re interrupted again, this time by the kind of laughter that starts as disbelief and quickly has his shoulders shaking and tears rolling down his cheeks. Most unusual.

“You’re telling me I get to spend near half a century on Earth?”

“What do you mean ‘get to’?” The thought of even spending ten years in such a place sends shivers right through your wings. “You won’t be able to return to heaven at all during that time. No correspondence with anyone, unless of course we contact you first.” He’s positively glowing and you can’t understand it. “You’ll have to live amongst humans-”

He’s standing now, moving to the screen and zooming in on earth. “Can I pick where?”

You move to stand next to him. He’s zoomed in so far, you can’t quite tell where it’s supposed to be. In truth, you spend very little time looking over God’s preferred planet, choosing instead to focus on the vastness of the universe in all its glory. You prefer the stars and the galaxies and all of their colours.

“May I?”

“Sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Can I choose where to live? Will I have a role?”

There’s nothing like this in the training manual. No one ever has these questions. They’re too busy crying, wailing for another chance to stay in heaven, let alone look excited as this one does.

“I suppose you could,” you say slowly. “And no - there’s no role.” You wait for the penny to drop, but he doesn’t seem to get it. “Pointlessness is the point of this sentence.”

Wonder breaks out in his expression, and he turns back to the screen and zooms in on a peninsular you’ve never noticed before. “Can you drop me here?”

“Where’s here?”

“Gojoseon.”

“Why?”

“Good people.” His smile spreads wide. “Good food.”

You gasp. “You’ve consumed their provisions? You’ve eaten?”

He looks at you in shock. “You haven’t?”

Of course you flaming haven’t! Even if you could stomach it - how in heaven would you get the opportunity to dine on Earth, what with all the work piling up in your pigeonhole and the lack of angels rights to paid time off, not to mention a union?

Your expression must say it all because he laughs again and says, “Well then visit me sometime, I’ll cook for you.”

“You’re very peculiar.”

“Yes,” he says with a shrug. “I get that a lot.”

You move back over to the desk to complete the rest of the paperwork while he stands there, still looking at the map with a satisfied smile.

After a few moments, he says, “I’ll need a name if I’m to live with humans.”

You find his given name at the top of the page. Soterasiel.

“What’s wrong with the one you’ve got?”

He shrugs again. “Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue for everyone.”

“I hear John is rather popular these days,” you muse, still checking boxes. “And Abraham. Or what about Jos-”

“Seokjin.”

“Bless you.”

“No, I mean- Seokjin.” He moves to sit back down. You don’t quite like it, the way he walks, like he’s got a bravado he hasn’t done anything to earn - rather the opposite in fact, given his grievous error in judgement. “That’s my new name.”

“Oh-” You glance up at him. “It suits you.”

Seokjin beams. He’s quiet for the next few moments, but you can sense his eagerness as he watches your fingertip move down the page. When all the documents are signed, you show him over to the chute, and he peers into it.

“This is the one-way?”

You nod. “We’ll send someone to relieve you once your sentence is up.”

He steps inside without hesitation, and it’s almost too late. You've been itching with curiosity since you opened his file, so you blurt out exactly what you’re not supposed to ask.

“Why did you do it?”

Seokjin tilts his head, confused.

“Why did you bring those humans back from the dead?” you clarify.

His eyes soften. “They’re my favourites.”

There’s a pregnant pause as you regard him. You don’t understand. Favourites? Angels aren’t supposed to have favourites. Angels aren’t supposed to be anything like him. Maybe you haven’t met enough to speak on the matter.

“Come visit me, won’t you? I get the impression you’ll like it down there.”

And before you can scoff at the very idea of visiting a banished (albeit temporarily) angel on earth, the chute opens up below him and he’s gone.

It’s difficult to get back to work after all that. All day there are punishments to give out in God’s name, but thankfully they’re nothing as extreme as that one. You get through a few sanctions, several warnings filed, and a strongly worded letter to the Department of Animals to remind them to stop creating wasps (apparently earth has enough) and then (at what would usually be known as 6pm), like clockwork, Turiel enters your office.

He’s another one you can’t get a read on, but in an entirely different way. He came up the ranks quickly, and became your boss without the necessary qualifications within a single century. He’s kind of course, but he’s a Watcher, so naturally he watches everything. Being watched makes you uncomfortable.

“How is everything?”

“Wonderful, thank you.”

“What happened with the banishment this morning?”

“With Seok- Soterasiel? He took it rather well.” Turiel stares at you, and you clear your throat to fill the awkward quiet. “Seemed quite happy about it, actually.”

Turiel frowns. “That’s odd.”

“Yes, quite.”

“We should watch that one,” he says, already making his way out. “Oh- you remembered to strip his miracles, correct?”

Strip his- why in heaven would you do that? It seems horribly cruel enough just to leave them there, let alone take their ability to do anything worthwhile.

“Sorry?”

Turiel stops on the spot and turns, frown deepening further. “Tell me you saw the memo from Metatron? We’re to strip any and all banishments of their miracles going forward. Too many mishaps and too many angel turned demon that still have their powers.”

If you had any blood in your face it would surely drain. No, you haven’t seen any blasted memo. The pigeonhole is stuffed to burst and it’s something you’ve been meaning to work through, you truly have, but there’s so little time in the day and- and- heavens, he’s still staring at you. Tell him the truth. Tell him you didn’t take Seokjin’s miracles. They’d overlook one error, especially as it’s the first offence. Surely?

“No need to worry,” you hear yourself say, voice unnaturally high. “Of course I did.”

Turiel blinks, smiles with relief, and shuts the door behind him as he leaves.

For the first time in your existence, you’re tempted to curse.

879 BC

6:43pm. Patchy rain showers through til 8.

Seokjin’s home looks like nothing. A shack at best. It’s hardly worthy of the name home but you still need his sodding permission to cross the threshold, so you knock and wait, huddling as close to the door as possible to keep dry. As the rain pelts your back you bitterly wonder why angels have to wait at the threshold for permission to enter. It’s utterly beyond you, surely such a restraint could be reserved for those who are up to no good?

(You pointedly ignore the little voice saying that you are actually up to no good.)

“Oh my God,” Seokjin says when he opens the door (if it weren’t for the threshold force you’d keel over) and your nose wrinkles automatically at the blasphemy. “It’s you.”

“May I come in?” you say, too busy watching for Watchers in your peripherals to take in the sight of the angel in front of you. It would be terrible to be caught now, after the web of lies you weaved in order to get an hour off work.

“Why?” he asks, suspicion lacing his voice. “You’re not bringing me back early are you?”

“Oh heavens no,” you say, starting to feel a little desperate, pushing the wet hair from your eyes. “I forgot something in your documents, a quick signature and I’ll be off in a jiffy.”

“You forgot something?”

“Yes-”

“And you decided two hundred and twenty-seven years later was the right time to fix that?”

“Time slips away when you’re working!”

Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Your lot really need to unionise.”

“Shh!” you hiss. “Let me in, please?”

“Alright, alright,” he says, stepping aside. “Come on in. Take your shoes off at the door.”

“I don’t have shoes,” you say as you push past him. A little miracle as soon as you’re out of the rain has you dry and warm again. What a pity, you think, that Seokjin will have to live without these little perks for the rest of his banishment. The sympathy you feel for him catches you unawares. “What are shoes?”

Seokjin smiles. “Thought you were a watcher?”

Part Cherubim part Virtue actually, but you won’t be telling Seokjin that. That’s between you and God. You bustle past him inside the shack and you can finally relax. All protocols are being broken right now, but with the teeny tiny miracle that you performed earlier, only you and Seokjin will know about this clandestine meeting.

Seokjin’s home is much nicer on the inside. Rather homely. And clean. And it smells good. What is that smell?

“I just made some tea, would you like a cup?”

Drinking? Apparently you can’t hide your expression because Seokjin's responding smile is mirthful. “Haven’t changed much, have you?”

“I suppose not, no.”

There’s no time to dilly dally like this. If you’re not back in the office soon, there’ll be questions you won’t know how to answer without twisting the truth. An angel can’t be going around telling lies. It’s uncouth.

Seokjin busies himself at the table while you unroll the documents. The scroll is horribly long, but eventually you find the line you missed all those years ago. You cough to get his attention, and he looks up and takes the scroll from your outstretched hand.

But then he starts to read. Oh goodness gracious. You hadn’t expected that. He seemed the sort that wouldn’t get hung up on the details, that would trust an angel (one like yourself in particular) implicitly. It’s offensive, actually, that he doesn’t trust that you’re not trying to pull the wool over his eyes, even though that might be exactly what you were trying to do. Are you not trustworthy? Are you not angelic?

Seokjin frowns. Uh oh.

“You’re taking my miracles?”

“Uh-”

“Why?”

“Well- uh. It’s protocol, you see.”

Seokjin stares. The silence is palpable.

“You fucked up.”

You gasp. “Don’t curse!”

“You did!” he says, eyes wild. “You fucked up when you sent me down here!”

There’s heat creeping up your neck.

“It really doesn’t need to be such a big to-do,” you splutter. “Just sign the form, and I’ll be on my way and then you’ll be back in Heaven in no time at all!”

“But I won’t have my miracles?”

“You’ll get them back on your return!”

“What if I need them?”

“You won’t.”

“I’ve needed them a lot, actually,” Seokjin insists. “You’ve no idea how many sticky situations I’ve been in thanks to all the creatures our Heavenly Mother made!”

“Oh!” you exclaim. “Have you seen a tiger yet? Those are my favourite.”

Seokjin looks like he might slap you.

The door opens.

“Seokjinie-hyung! We’re back!”

We? Who’s we?

We are three men, one short, one tall, and one somewhere in the middle.

The room is very suddenly too small and too quiet as all of you stare at each other.

The small one’s eyes, wide and curious, dart between you and Seokjin.

“Who’s this, Seokjin hyung?”

“Uh-” you say.

“Uhh-” says Seokjin.

You can’t think of a human name. Not a single, blasted one comes to mind. Of course, humans know angels exist, but you can’t go around telling everyone who you are when you’re not exactly here on official business. Their mouths blabber too much. Word on Earth gets around faster than in Heaven.

“This is-”

“Oh my God-” the somewhere-in-the-middle one exclaims, while you grimace. “You’re that angel hyung told us about!”

You turn to glare at Seokjin, who is all of sudden very interested in the wood grain on the table. His ears are strawberry red. Strawberries were one of your ideas, you’d know that colour anywhere.

“You told them?” you say, incredulously. “What were you thinking?”

Seokjin sighs. “They’re not going to say anything.”

“Yeah!” the small one says. “Don’t worry, we’ve kept Seokijn hyung’s secret for two cent-”

He’s cut off by a loud cough from the tall one, but you’re not stupid. Humans aren’t supposed to be alive that long anymore, not since The Great Flood when God finally got sick of Noah and his bothersome family - that was one of the few memos you read.

“Seokjin-” you say slowly. He’s pointedly looking everywhere else but your face. “Are these the same humans you told me about during our first meeting?”

The small one grins. “Oh hyung, I knew you loved us more than you let on.”

Two centuries they’ve been alive - at least. Oh Goodness. You need to report it, but how could you without telling them you didn’t do your job properly.

“You don’t need to say anything to Heaven,” Seokjin says. “What they don’t know doesn’t hurt them.”

“The protocol-” you start, but you’re cut off by a groan.

“Fuck the protocol! Don’t you want to think for yourself for once? Didn’t She give us free will for a reason?”

“She gave them free will, not us!” you reason. “We’re to do as we’re told!”

“Why? What for?”

“The Great Plan!”

“The Great Plan-” he parrots in the most condescending tone. “-is supposed to be ineffable. If we knew what was in it, we wouldn’t have a choice. If I didn’t have free will, I wouldn’t have been able to turn them into vampires.”

You frown, confused. Vampires weren’t in the handbook, but then you never could keep up. “What’s a vampire?”

Seokjin swallows thickly. “Uh. Nevermind that. The point is, if this wasn’t in The Great Plan, if it wasn’t written, would I have even been able to do it?”

The thought gives you pause. He’s got a point, actually. The Archangels talk often of fate and destiny and what She wrote. No one knows the plan, of course, and it can change at Her will, but the whole point of this charade is that you’re all to trust in God’s Plan, regardless of what happens.

There’s a long moment of silence. The three men- or rather, vampires- are still just standing there watching the two of you argue.

The small one finally breaks the tension and introduces himself. “I’m Jimin,” he says.

You nod, and give your name. He repeats it, butchering the pronunciation, but of course you expected that. Humans have never quite managed to get their tongue around it. You muse for a moment if you should give yourself a more human name, like Seokjin, but your thoughts are interrupted by the large one.

“I’m Namjoon,” he says, and points to the last one, who gives a tentative wave. “This is Taehyung.”

You nod again, and start to feel a little ridiculous.

Okay, so the plan needs to be adjusted. You can’t take away Seokjin’s miracles without getting him to undo whatever he did to the human-vampires.

“How long have you all been alive?”

Namjoon glances at Seokjin, who nods. “Around three hundred years.”

“Okay,” you say. “And do you plan on dying any time soon?”

The three of them stare at you. “It’s not something we’d considered, no,” whispers Jimin.

“Right,” you say, and then turn to Seokjin. “You need to fix this, make them human again. I’ve got to go, they’ll be looking for me, but I’ll be back soon to check in on you so you’d better have done it by then.”

Seokjin’s Adam's apple bobs in his throat. It’s… somewhat pleasant to look at.

“Pleasure to meet you everyone,” you say tightly to Seokjin’s friends. “Enjoy the rest of your lives.”

You catch their confused expressions shift into something horrified before you appear back at your desk in Heaven. It leaves you befuddled. That was a perfectly pleasant first interaction with humans that are aware of your celestial-ness - you’re not quite sure what they could be so bothered about.

827 BC

Early Autumn. 8:12am. Current Earthly conditions: foggy

It’s another fifty years or so before you can catch a break long enough to get back down to Earth. The shack has improved drastically - quite the pleasant looking home in fact. There’s flower boxes on the windowsills that are covered in a light morning dew, but the plants seem hardy. Purples and yellows. Dainty looking little things. You wonder what they might be.

The door opens as you bend to smell them, and you look up to find the angel wrapped up in the largest item of clothing you’ve ever seen for something that just seems to be used for a neck. It’s ever so bright. Mismatched colours and patterns that don’t seem to line up. One end of it drags along the floor. Seokjin doesn’t appear too pleased to see you.

“What are you wearing?” you ask, amused.

“Taehyung made me a scarf.”

“It’s very big.”

Seokjin glares.

“Did you really come to ruin my life so early in the morning?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re immortal. I hardly doubt this little blip will destroy you. More like God would if you don’t pull it together.”

“I could say the same about you.”

He’s got you there. But as you hold his gaze something in the air shifts, and he reluctantly lets you in. This time you take his offer of a cup of tea. You take a tentative sip, and it warms your belly in such an unexpected way. The weight of the cup is heavy in your hand, and the warmth of it seeps into your palm. It’s rather nice.

You sit at the same table he had fifty-something years ago. There’s a few more marks in the woodwork by now.

“Shall we get it over with then?” he says. “Where do I need to sign?”

You stop his hastiness with a gentle touch to his arm. He stares at your hand.

“Did you get everything in order first?” you ask.

Seokjin coughs. “Yes, of course.”

His ears are strawberry red again. The colour really is pretty, you’re glad you chose it. You’re glad you see it in other things, even if they are the tips of this angel’s ears.

“They’re dead?”

“Not yet,” he says, lips twisting bitterly around the words. “They’re living out the rest of their lives. You might get a chance to see them, if you stay awhile. They said they’d be popping by later.”

“Oh,” you say, surprised. “Well, I suppose that’s something. You know, I am really sorry about that. I thought about it after my last visit, and I think I understand now why you’d want to keep your friends around for longer.”

“Feeling lonely up there?” he asks, voice gentler than usual.

“No!” You snort with (only slightly put on) derision. “Of course not. Too busy for such a thing as loneliness.”

He chuckles. “Maybe I wasn’t busy enough then.”

You ignore what feels like a thimbleful of sadness dropping into your stomach.

Seokjin does most of the talking while you drink your tea. He talks about what he does down here - cooking mostly, but also a little pottery. He’s been training under a man called Yoongi. Says he made the cups you’re holding, and you inspect them. They’re quite ugly, thick and uneven- and you’re about to say as such, but Seokjin looks proud, so you smile and tell him he did very well, and that you like the colour of the clay. You wish you could bottle the way he beams.

All too soon the tea is finished, and Seokjin signs the document. It’s done. His eyes still shine, if a little less bright now.

“What now?” he asks.

You suck in a breath. “Your miracles are in trust until your return to Heaven. Until then you can live as a human. More or less.”

His eyes snap up. “I’m still immortal, right?”

“Oh of course,” you say with a laugh. “You think they’d go through all this trouble just to risk you being eaten by a giraffe?”

“Do you know anything about Earth?” Seokjin says it like you’re an idiot. “At all?”

You’re tempted to roll your eyes. “I know plenty-”

“Name one thing,” he interrupts, crossing his arms and looking at you with an almost amused expression.

You draw your shoulders back. You’ll give him three. “It weighs five point nine-seven septillion kilograms.”

Seokjin blinks three times fast. You must’ve caught him off guard with your knowledge. Good.

“It’s made up of thirty-two point one percent iron, fifteen point one percent silic-”

“Alright,” Seokjin says, lips twisting into a small smile. “I get it. You don’t need to prove yourself.”

You grin, ever so pleased with yourself, and Seokjin laughs.

“You’re cute.”

“What?”

“Cute,” he repeats. “It’s a compliment.”

“Oh,” you say, wondering why reciting facts from the Earth’s handbook would warrant a compliment on your character. “Okay…” You look down at your mug and see it’s empty and you’re struck with a surprising pang of disappointment. The tea was really rather good, it’s something of a pity as you realise you won’t be able to make it the same back in Heaven.

“Well, I’d better get going. Paperwork to do. Miracles to take.”

“Of course,” says Seokjin, and stands to see you off. “If you visit again will you let me know in advance?”

“Why?”

“I’ll make dinner.”

You smile without thinking. “I don’t eat, Seokjin.”

“You know,” he says, in a very matter of fact tone. “Despite the fact that every time we meet you’re taking away something of mine, I’m growing quite fond of our meetings.”

You blink.

His eyes are so big and gentle and- “Let me know- okay?” he says with earnest.

“Okay,” you promise, already wondering when you could possibly get away long enough to watch Seokjin eat dinner.

“Would you like to take some flowers with you?” he asks suddenly. “I saw you smelling them.”

“Oh! Ye-” you start, and then you think better of it. So you plaster on a smile and say “No, that’s quite alright, I can whip some of my own up in no time at all.”

Seokjin nods. He looks like he’s going to say something else, but time is getting on and you’re not used to these odd goodbye rituals the humans (and this angel in particular) seem so fond of, so with a flash of a smile you’re back in Heaven. Seokjin and his lovely brown eyes remain on Earth.

Your office looks so bland in comparison to Seokjin's home.

It takes a second to notice that the cup he gave you is still in your hand, remnants of the sweet tea drying on the bottom. You briefly consider going back down, just to hand it over and say goodbye properly, but in walks Turiel to squash any ideas you have about leaving your post again.

“Great, you’re finally back,” he says, dumping a stack of files on your desk. “We’re swamped.”

“What happened?” you exclaim. You’re barely able to see him over the pile.

“Some bright spark in Organisms made a new virus. Let it loose in Greece without proper authorisation, killed half of them,” he says with a frustrated sigh. “The higher ups are fretting because one of the dead ones was supposed to be a prophet.”

Oh dear.

Turiel leaves without display. No time for pleasantries like offerings of tea and flowers up here. You sigh, dejected.

Being around Seokjin makes you wistful for things you didn’t know you wanted. You set the mug on your desk, turning it to and fro so you get a view of the prettier side- and with the smallest of miracles, there grows delicate flowers, in purple and yellow.

#bts fic #bts fanfction #seokjin x you #seokjin fanfic #seokjin x reader #bts fanfic #bts seokjin #seokjin fluff #jin x you #jin x reader #thank u for reading #fic: don't let me tempt you #ksj x reader #ksj fic #ksj fluff #bee writes

87 notes · View notes

4townie · 2 months

Text

Road to 4☆TOWN

Warning: Strong language

Robaire read over the half finished lyrics to the song he’d been working on, finding himself completely stumped. His pity party was interrupted by the doorbell. Robaire rushed to the door. “Jan—” He frowned. “Oh. Hey, Aaron.”

“Hey.” Z leaned on the doorframe. “I know it’s been a while since we’ve spoken, but T tells me you’re really into that girl from the hotel.”

“I mean, if you ever picked up a magazine, he wouldn’t have to tell you.” Robaire rolled his eyes. “But yeah. I am. What of it?”

Aaron held up his Polaroid camera. “I’ve got photos to show you.” He stepped inside. “Your girl…she’s got long legs, pineapple hair, wears lots of mini skirts. Amirite?”

“Uh, yeah.” Robaire looked at him in confusion. “How do you remember all that? You only saw her once.”

“I cross referenced with one of those magazines I never pick up.” Aaron raised an eyebrow. “She looked familiar when I saw her. I wasn’t sure at first, but now I am.”

“Sure of what? When did you see her?” Robaire asked.

“Olivia’s staying with us while my parents are in Aruba. She insisted we take her and Tae to the park to feed the ducks.” Aaron handed him the Polaroids. “That’s when I spotted her.”

Robaire shifted through the pictures. He could clearly see Janelle smiling and holding hands with some other guy, but he couldn’t believe his eyes. “She’s still seeing him…?” He felt a pang in his chest. “I thought…I thought he broke her heart. I thought I was the one healing her.”

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news.” Aaron shrugged. “We tried to tell you she was bad for you, man. Everyone could see it but you.”

“That’s not really helping.” Robaire shot him a glare. “I just…” he sighed and plopped onto the couch. “I thought I had a good thing going here. But this whole time I really was just a sucker. I was always her second choice.”

Aaron’s eyes shifted awkwardly. “Isn’t Jesse the one you usually go to with these problems?”

“UGH, what am I supposed to tell Jesse?” Robaire groaned. “I was being such a jerk to him but he was right all along. And my parents…” He faceplanted into a couch pillow. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to face anyone. I just feel like a total fool. How could she play me like this?”

Aaron looked between Robaire and the door, debating whether or not he should just leave him to his feelings. He sighed and sat on the floor beside him. “Listen, I get it. You must’ve been excited to have a life outside of 4☆TOWN. You just wanted us all to be happy and support you.” He shook his head. “I know it sucks a lot, but it’s not your fault.”

“It’s definitely my fault.” Robaire said quietly. “It was spelled out for me so many times but I chose to ignore it.” He stared at the photos. “Last time we spoke, we got into an argument. She told me she couldn’t be with another liar and yet…she’s the one lying to me. And here I was writing her a love song, trying to figure out how to make it up to her and she just—…” He scoffed and tossed the photos aside. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Well, I’m not gonna tell you this isn’t stupid cuz that’d be a lie.” Aaron admitted.

“Wow, thanks.” Robaire rolled his eyes. “I’m pouring my heart out to you and you tell me I’m stupid.”

“You didn’t let me finish.” Aaron narrowed his eyes. “I was going to say that even though you were being dumb, you can’t victim blame. She was manipulative and she played with your feelings and she knew exactly what she was doing. That’s a pretty fucked up thing to do to someone.” He looked over at Robaire, who was busy staring at a picture of Janelle sadly. Aaron sighed and got up. “You can stay here and feel sorry for yourself. And you can forgive her and look past it if you want. But the Robaire I know, the same jackass that stood up to our manager to protect Jesse, wouldn’t let someone like this win a fight. He’s too strong for that.” He shrugged before letting himself out.

Robaire shook his head when he was alone again. “I wish I knew where that guy was right now.”

#4town headcanons #4town fanfic #4town robaire #4town z #4town jesse #4town aaron t #4town taeyoung #turning red #turning red 4town #4town #4townie

27 notes · View notes

msallurea · 10 months

Text

"Dear y/n,

Excuse me your royal hotness, I am sorry to interrupt your precious time I know im very well unworthy of even being in the mere atmosphere of you but did you know that you have been causing uncontrollable havoc across the world? Like seriously it has truly gotten out of hand! Do you not remember? You posted one photo of you in a simple, black, hourglass silhouette, Thierry Mugler 90s theme, ankle length, vixen dress with beautiful Swarovski diamonds jewelry pieces, YOU PRACTICALLY BLINDED ANYONE WHO SAW YOUR PHOTO BECAUSE OF THOSE JEWELS?! Along with a pair of rare collection black Versace 7 inch heels. I mean come on exactly how much of "broke people should never laugh" are you trying to scream in people's faces here. Has it still not rung a bell?? Seriously, your long, glossy, silky fluffy curls shimmered and glistened in the sun you practically out shined the sun I mean how it that even possible? Your sex appeal quite literally broke the 5th 6th and 7th dimension. I really do hate to be the bearer of bad news but you need to get it together. I have been receiving multiple complaints from husband's wives, they've been too intimidated by your beauty they've had to create fake accounts as guys just to see why there husband is so obsessed with you and end up falling in love themselves, onlyfans has literally went nonexistent since you posted you are the only remedy to this worlds sexual satisfaction, gay people question their sexuality because of you there confused how someone could be so hot, even the most loyalist of men are considering cheating on there s/o because of you, traffic has been hectic cars are crashing everywhere and guess who just happened to walk by..exactly! Calling you beautiful is an understatement, you are astonishing, so poise, so sirenic, so luminescent, you're nostalgia personified, even scientist can't comprehend the complexity of your beauty it's astounding your the one philosophy they just can't explain and its annoying to them. If you have any care at all because by this point you probably believe I'm complimenting you and your batting your fluffy butterfly lashes and eyes sparkling like the moon while you laugh and your sickeningly cute warm smile just reading..thinking of it right now sends purple and pink butterflies in my stomach. Please y/n, if you'd care enough please stop being so hot I beg of you, I'm ready to risk it all with my own wife if you reply back to my letter I have kids and have a happy home but..none of it compares to having you even if it's just for a second please quit toturing us y/n I beg of you."

-Sincerly, your fan

#law of assumption #manifestation #manifesting #neville goddard #affirmations #MsAllurea #my blog

81 notes · View notes

nelyoslegalteam · 5 months

Note

please tell me about your dnd campaign, stranger

hi hi hi hi hi hi hi do you have any idea how happy i am to get this ask. you have activated my trap card this is going to be SO long i am sorry in advance but The People Need To Know About My D&D Campaign.

so we’re playing in Adventures in Middle Earth, which is. supposedly a Tolkienverse-specific 5e mod but frankly it’s robust enough to fully count as its own system if you ask me. like it has its own guidebooks, character sheets, premade adventures, and features mechanics that 5e just straight up doesn’t have. it’s like if 5e were actually good. anyway. may i present to you:

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ The Mirkwood Campaign ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

so what, exactly, happened in the intervening years between the events of the Hobbit and LOTR? we did, BAYBEEEEEE!!

we are:

Murdoc, a hobbitish warden (adventures in middle earth’s version of a bard), played by yours truly!! raised in the shire and eventually moved out to the middle of mirkwood by an eccentric uncle who idolizes bilbo baggins, murdoc is the heir apparent to the brandybuck family inn. unfortunately for murdoc, he has developed extremely nasty prophetic dreams and is now burdened with the ability to see the future! a skill that has definitely left him with a very normal relationship to his new day job of Being An Adventurer!! i am unhinged and have uh. Talked About Him A LOT If You Care To Read This, but he is full of murderous rage and also tea and loves his friends very much. he also, more recently, surrendered himself as bait to the great werewolf plaguing mirkwood, trusting completely that his friends would come and save him. he was right. they did. and he lost his right hand in the process. :)

Ríros, an elven warrior (aime version of a fighter), played by @jaz-the-bard. tall, buff, sunshiny, and an absolute himbo. ALSO loves his friends VERY much and this is KEY. unfortunately for ríros, he is a redhead, and that does cause problems in a world where maedhros feänorion once existed. (stranger, i am so sorry if you are not one of my silmarillion regulars and did not know what you were getting into by asking me, a silmarillion blog, to tell you about my d&d campaign, and now have no idea who or what the fuck i am talking about). ríros is notably not maedhros though! he isn't even noldorin!! maedhros is a ghost who lives in his sword (and who is also played by jaz)! and who also maybe kind of accidentally possessed him one time, if you wanna read this here for a better explanation of ríros mostly but also all of the above.

The Bearer, a human slayer (aime barbarian), played by @thymo-leonta. grumpy old man. unwilling father to all these young and stupid adventurers he’s been stuck with. are they all adults? yeah sure. they’re still Children. we are making him go grey. also full of murderous rage. looks like he's running from his perfectly normal, happy, loving family. is actually acutely aware of the fact that he has been doomed to die. killed the werewolf that took murdoc's hand. as a consequence, became the werewolf that took murdoc's hand. has two dogs, both named Dog <3

Déorwyn, a human wanderer (aime ranger), played by @shadowkat2000. resident party Horse Girl. a fellow sufferer of The Bad Prophetic Dreams^TM. because this is not quite unfortunate enough for her, déorwyn Hears Dead People. apparently our GM gives her extra secret bonus ghosts that the rest of us do not hear or know about! this being the source of her foresight makes her pretty distinct from murdoc, despite them both seemingly suffering from the same thing, in ways that i have LOTS of emotions about. her horse is named windrider and Their Bond Is Unbreakable uwu

and @potatoobsessed999, our obligatorily Extremely Ominous GM!

(we are also occasionally joined by Ioreth, a human treasure hunter (aime rogue), whose player is unfortunately not on tumblr. a founding member of the party, has earned the epithet The Feral, mostly loves to hang out in the woods by herself, look for shiny things, and cause chaos. as a beorning, she CAN astral-project herself as a bear. it rules. once got possessed by a ringwraith, probably holds the most compassion for characters who have been through similar out of any of us. is usually covered in mud.)

initially in the employ of radagast the brown, a tenure that did not last due to murdoc's insistence that saruman is evil (i mean. yeah lol.), we're a group of adventurers traveling mirkwood with the aim to defend it as sauron slowly gathers power. we are

very

successful at the Fighting And Killing Things part of this

we specialize in:

lugging unconscious bodies through the woods!

lugging DEAD bodies through the woods!

lugging EACH OTHER'S bodies through the woods!

lugging things through the woods in general!

setting things on fire (usually murdoc's fault)!

making fun of our enemies so bad they just give up!

INCLUDING the ringwraiths (shoutout to ríros)!

serving annoying politicians subpoenas!

murdering them like the one time it was totally justified we promise!

accidentally convincing the council of mirkwood that murdoc's inn is a small fiefdom!

being generally cursed (except for ríros) (he just looks that way)!

HIRE US to take care of whatever problems are happening in YOUR local cursed forest! wights? patricidal politicians? generally awful politicians? sauron? the same fucking werewolf again? it's definitely just tuesday to us!

you can count on

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ the union of murdoc ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

anyhow, jaz is absolutely wonderful and has written several fics of our party, including (but not limited to):

Cooking Contest for the Free Peoples, based on an in-game conversation about beating sauron at competitive cooking,

In Which There Are More Ghosts, which is not canon to game but is in fact Extremely Representative of the exact kind of nonsense we get up to (campaign's haunted),

A Stranger With a Friend's Face, a canon to game horror story of how ríros got slightly possessed, the party acquired maedhros, and neither murdoc nor déorwyn managed to explain the presence of the vengeful ghost residing in murdoc's scepter and bullying him in his dreams to any of the rest of the party right up until this very moment,

and this wonderful drabble from the horror arc in which we were isolated inside of a haunted longhouse. complete with party memes here.

there's more, and i am going to a.) pick on jaz to add them if they can find them, and b.) pick on my beloved friends in general to Please Help Me Infodump About our Game!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Top to Bottom, Left to Right: Murdoc, the Bearer, Déorwyn, Ríros, Ioreth]

#so sorry to this random stranger. the op of the post about d&d games being five-person fandoms. who was kind enough to Ask Me This.#this is way more than you bargained for #even if you care about none of this I Love You Now. Just For Asking.#you must understand. i am compiling a sales pitch for my campaign. i need to get tumblr Invested.#also i truly have NO art of one-handed murdoc and this i MUST correct #my boy! does not have that second hand!!#his design has changed so much from even the point when this art was commissioned but that's a post of its own lmao #begging my friends to Descend upon this post because there *are* Things I Have Missed and i want them to infodump too .w.#mirkwood campaign #<= is my tag for everything from this game!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! go check it out pls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#nelyo askbox #hoping that this doesn't have a million typos before i finally post this lmao

29 notes · View notes