#When cosplayers meet at conventions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astaroth1357 · 5 months

Text

Flipping the Script: Leviathan Meet-Cute (Human World AU)

So what if you met the demon boys in the human world instead? You’re not magic. You’re not special. You’re an average little human that came crashing into some demons one day. Good luck!

Contents: Pretty new format for me, second person (you), forgive any wonkiness

Part One (You are here), Part Two, Part Three (Coming Soon...)

~♡♡♡~

You’re a hardcore otaku influencer with a niche in creating and sharing cosplay. You’ve befriended a lot of other enthusiasts pursuing your passions, but there was one guy that you met at a recent convention that stood out from all of the rest.

The Seven Lords was just having yet another milestone anniversary, so several friends in your circle all decided to get together and do a group cosplay for the fans, you all were even offered space for a panel and locations for meet-and-greets! Your whole fanbase was ecstatic, and so were you, but there was just one problem…

The friend that agreed to be your Third Lord backed out at the last minute! His baggage was totally lost on the flight there and suddenly your whole group was without a member to complete the set. Though you knew it wasn’t a huge deal, you hated to disappoint your fans who were looking for a full group photo-op…

But then you saw this guy waiting around your hotel lobby-

“I can't believe Wess had to cancel on us…!” You thought to yourself while tapping your foot furiously against the hotel's linoleum floor. You were waiting for check-in last night when your collaborator sent his text to everyone, and your team still hadn’t found a suitable replacement… How could you guys have a TSL photo event without a Lord of Shadows?? Especially when you're the one dressed as Henry! What self-respecting group TSL cosplay doesn’t have those two together?? They're the closest pair in the show! The Sun and Shadow shippers were going to start a riot…

You were all still double-checking your gear and supplies down in the lobby. Months of work had gone into planning and prepping for this event… Your friends were trying to calm you down as best as they could, but your nerves weren’t on your side… You hated letting down your fans, even if it was entirely out of your control. But without a replacement, what exactly could you do? Just as you were about to throw in the towel and get dressed, a bunch of shouting from the hallway entrance caught your attention.

“Why the hell am I stuck carryin’ all your crap, huh Levi?! Ya got two working hands!”

“Because this outfit is heavy, Mam-er-Malcom! I need help, or else I'll get sweaty and gross!”

“You're already gross, so what's it matter?”

“Shut up, scumbag!!”

'Yeesh, what a loud pair...' You turned to look their way with a visible frown to show your annoyance only for your jaw hit the floor. Two men walked out of the hall and into the lobby, one being a dark-skinned male with the whitest hair you'd ever seen, and the other… Sweet kami-sama above, the other guy…!!

He. Was. Perfect!! The dark, shadowy armor, constructed fron what you could only guess was EVA foam and faux furs, combined with his violet hair made him look like the spitting image of the Third Lord! It was almost like the character himself had climbed off the page!! You had to cover your mouth to contain an audible gasp of shock while glancing at the others in your team. Only a few of your friends had noticed the man's arrival, but those who had all shot you back the same kind of look, “Go get that guy. NOW!” Who were you to refuse?

The god-tier Third Lord cosplayer was still arguing with his companion when you first made your approach, allowing you to sneak up pretty close without getting noticed. By the time you were in speaking distance, you were already marveling at the craftsmanship of his cosplay up close. The foam pieces looked flawlessly metallic and there were no patches of hot glue mishaps, frayed stitching, or painting mistakes. It was truly something else!

“Hey, what'cha gawkin’ at??”

The white-haired male caught you red-handed, leading the cosplayer in his company to turn in your direction. Though, amusingly, the moment your eyes met he seemed just as star struck as you were. You wasted no time thrusting your hand out towards him with your most “camera-winning” smile.

“Hi! Uhm, I’m Y/n L/n and I'm-"

“-the most popular cosplay model on Instagram, three-time champion of the WCS competitions, and the host of the ‘TSL Today’ fan podcast-!”

You froze from surprise as the cosplayer slapped his mouth shut with his own hand in a bid to stop rambling. His cheeks instantly tinged pink as he must have realized that he was spitting your own resume at you in excitement. It was hard not to feel a bit flattered at the sudden eruption of joy, so you smiled back more genuinely.

“That’s right! You've heard of me?”

You waited for his response with a patient, maybe even endeared, gaze. Seeing that you weren’t immediately weirded out by his hyped babbling, he uncovered his mouth to respond shyly.

“Y-yeah, of course I do…! I uh… came here to see your meet-and-greet today…”

He winced, face getting hotter, and looked like he wanted to double over from embarrassment, but honestly, you couldn’t have been happier. A creator of THIS caliber was one of YOUR fans?? Talk about a “diamond in the rough” moment!

“Really? That’s awesome!! Because I couldn’t help but notice that cosplay you're wearing… Did you make it yourself?”

How his face recalibrated from flustered to ecstatic in just a few seconds could have made your heart melt. After he confirmed that his cosplay was his own handiwork you began to gush about the design, asking rapid-fire questions about the materials he bought, what patterns he found, and his different sewing techniques. You both were so caught up in each other's passion that you hardly even registered the other guy standing next to him until he finally cleared his throat insistently.

“Yo Levi… This crap’s gettin’ heavy. Are we going or what?”

The cosplayer, who you guessed was Levi, turned to the man reluctantly, which sent a surge of panic through you as you still hadn’t asked him to stay.

“Wait!!”

Both men flinched a bit at your sudden exclamation, making your cheeks flush with color, but you pressed on regardless,

“Um, Levi right? My team and I could use your help… Our Third Lord just dropped out on us today because of baggage troubles and we really need a replacement for the shoot. Your outfit is fantastic! Do you think that you could step into the role for us? I have early access badges to the vendors room, so we can take a look together if that uh… if that…? Um. Levi...?”

The man in front of you looked like he was moments away from breaking down in tears, but somehow holding them back through sheer force of will… and his closed eyelids making a decent dam.

“H-hold on… I think I need to pinch myself because this can’t be happening. Is this actually happening?”

His voice wobbled while the man next to him, Malcolm(?), rolled his eyes behind his gold-tinted glasses.

“Hey, that doesn’t answer their questions, ya know?” He elbowed Levi while looking at you with a serious expression, “Are ya willin’ to take him AND his stuff with ya?”

“Of course! It’s important to have everything while yo-”

“Great. You can have’em.”

You were taken aback just a bit by the speed of his response, but not as much as Levi because he quickly leapt back into the conscious world in a panic!

“Wha-wh-Whaah?? You can’t just answer for me!!”

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders, letting several bags he had on slide to the ground but cushioning the fall a bit with his foot.

“Why not? It’s clear ya wanna go with them. Unless you wanna leave them hangin'…”

“N-No!! I mean, yes! No-er UGH!”

You watched Levi cover his face in frustration feeling a twinge of sympathy. Does he get tongue-tied like this often? After a few seconds to compose himself, he finally straightened up to give his true response.

“Y-yes, I want to go with you…! Being able to help one of your online idols is like a dream come true for any fan! What can I do to help?”

You could feel your smile grow twice as wide from the combination of relief and gratitude. Maybe the shoot would go alright after all…

“Give me your hand.”

Levi stuttered watching you reach your hand out towards his, using your other one to pull out a black marker that you always kept on your person for fans. His skin was soft, but strangely cold, when he rested his knuckles into your upturned palm. The icy jolt even made you jump a bit. Holy crap, was he cold-blooded or something?? When he flashed you a concerned glance, you quickly recovered uncapped the marker between your fingers. With years of built up practice, you ran the black ink over his pale skin, but instead of a signature, you left one of your burner numbers that you used for interacting with collaborators.

“Here. We still need a bit of time to get ready, but that shouldn’t stop you from enjoying the con. Text me your name and I'll send you back where to meet up once we're ready to go.”

Levi was staring at the black marks on his hand like you'd just handed him a key item in a video game when one of your team shouted back from behind you.

“Y/n! Why aren’t you dressed yet?? We gotta go!”

“Shit, I’m coming!” You turned to head back, but you spared just a second to smile at Levi over your shoulder. “Thank you so much, Levi, you're going to be a huge help! Don't forget to text.”

“I won’t!”

Levi's promise made you grin lift even higher. With a wink and a wave, you made your way back to the others with a brand new pep in your step. Mission, saved!!

Meanwhile…

“… Did ya seriously just score a number in that getup?”

“I swear, I’ll never wash this hand again...!!”

“Fuck's sake, Levi, stop being so gross! At least put it in your phone before your sweaty palms wipe it off!”

“Gah, you're right!!”

#this is one of those fics #i have completely finished in my head #but only 60% written #gonna play with fire this Christmas #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me leviathan #obey me nightbringer #obey me scenarios #obey me what if #tales from the drafts #obey me fic #obey me x reader #leviathan x mc

499 notes · View notes

heartfullofleeches · 7 months

Text

Creep Yan meets the sweet angel that is Clown Darling-

It was an accident. They swear it to their grave.

A left instead of a right somewhere down the twisting, spacious corridors of the convention center. They could've sworn they followed the receptionist's directions down to the letter, but playing back her voice in their head they're starting to believe she just made up whatever she could to get them to leave. What should have led them to the hall holding the annual concert for their favorite idol group had in actuality brought them to a another venue with an entirely different type of star.

The clown's smiling face was plastered on every wall. Children and young adults of all ages walked in hand with their guardians wearing the same face paint or best imitation of the entertainers outfit they could readily obtain. There were others closer to their age, but none as out of their element as them. Collectors exchanging priceless goods: bonding over favorite moments from what sounds to be a show. Is this what they're like with people who share the same interests? When they're apart of the crowd it feels normal, but how could a kid's show have such an effect on grown adults? They feel like such an outcast - and they know others know they are too. They can hear the words behind every stare throw at them.

"What are they doing in here...."

"Creeps like that are exactly what it's difficult to bring kids to public events."

"Freak."

They stumble through the booths, searching desperately for the exit they lost sight of shortly before realizing where they were. Tears obscure their vision as they collapse next to a row of chairs left out for guests. The concert had to have started by now and at this raise they'll never make it before the doors close. They finally had the chance to see their favorite group in person and now it was gone. Why did they ever think the universe would give them a opportunity for better after an eternity of hell. At this rate it would be better to just go home....

Hic....hic...

Soft cries bellow from the body sitting next to them. They wipe at their eyes with a striped handkerchief, careful not to smudge their face paint. From their mismatch shoes to their brightly colored clothes it was easy to pin them as another cosplayer, but there was something more... authentic about their wear. They cry silently into their hands without spilling a tear.

"Are....are you okay?"

The clown looks up at them, sighing heavily. "Oh, I'm alright. I'm just sad because you're sad. I've seen so many happy faces today and you're the first I've seen upset. It's enough to bring a tear to anyone's eye."

They tighten grip the strap of their bag. "I... can go somewhere else..."

"No, no!" The clown bounces to their feet and takes their hands - startling them. "I'm not saying that because I want you to go away. I'm saying that because I want to make you feel better, silly! Why don't we start with you telling me what's wrong?"

"It's nothing.... You don't want to hear about stuff like that it's depressing."

"Hm... can I at least try to make you happier?"

"You can try..."

"Great! Repeat after me."

The clown clears their throat as they kneel.

"When I'm feeling lonely, or think I just might frown. I think think a thought that means a lot and then I feel less down.

The clown's smile reaches the painted circles on their cheeks. "Its the song I teach all my new friends. Now you try!"

"When I'm feeling lonely...."

"Or think I just might frown."

"I think a thought that means a lot."

"And then I feel less down." The clown squeals as they clap they hands together. "Yay! You did it! And very well if I may add. How do you feel now?"

They pause for a moment, lips moist as they think about their mother's chocolate cake. There's still a slice left in their fridge. "A little better...."

"Now, tell me a thought that makes you feel better."

"Well... I really like listening to music...." Their smile is gone as soon as it came. "I actually came to see a concert today, but I got lost...."

"Concert? You mean like those sweet girls next door? Haha, you can hear them right through the walls? I guess it is difficult with all the screaming kids. Come on, I'll take you!"

They place their ear against the wall. Sure enough, music and the roars of the crowd blare through the structure. They cup their hands around their ears to hear better and decipher if their favorite song has already played - yanked from their seat before they can properly make out a single note.

"Come on, Come on!"

The clown giggles, clutching their hand as they skip and excuse their way through the crowd - promising younger guests their full attention upon their return with a quick hug and a free sticker. It's all the time the person they drag with them has to recuperate before being pulled along again.

"Wait... please... I can't...."

"We're here!"

Catching their breath, they look up to see the still open doors of the concert hall as people pour in and out. The bouncers stop a few of them to inform them of the doors' closing in five minutes. They made it... They actually made it... Tears of happiness catch in their lashes, sweeped away by a striped cloth.

"Are you still sad? I know you missed the opening act, there's still more..."

"No... These are happy tears... Thank you.. Thank you!"

The clown's laughter reaches the deepest depths their heart. "Anything for a friend! Come see me again if you're ever in any trouble..... Oh! I almost forgot something!"

The clown reaches into their pocket and pulls out a small, plastic badge. They pass it over to their new friend who inspects the smiling rainbow and letters engraved into it.

"Y/n the clown's helper of the day."

"That's a little token I give to the best of my little helpers..." The clown lends in, covering their mouth with one hand as they whisper. "Don't tell the kids - I give one to everybody."

They reach into their bag, grabbing their wallet. The clown quickly stops them.

"It's free, Silly! If you wanna pay me back, just have a good time, okay?"

The clown winks before walking off back to their hall - but not before passing out stickers to the bouncers who thank them for it and the water bottles they brought earlier. The dumbfounded individual they leave behind looks down at their hand - then the open doors of the concert hall. They sheepishly reenter the venue they came from, approaching the first merch with physical discs they see.

"Hello, I'd like to buy a copy of all available seasons you have."

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere #yandere blurb #clown reader #yandere drabble

563 notes · View notes

anonymousbardd · 2 months

Text

Character Headcanons

꒰ ☕ ꒱ ┊: How You Met

↳ Various x FemReader

- The following characters are: Gun Park, Goo Kim, Samuel Seo, Jake Kim, and Gongseob Ji.

ʚɞ ┊: Gun Park

↳ Gun isn't typically a lady's man, he prefers to get stronger and earn more money than ever, he'd do anything just for money, that's why he agreed to join forces in the first place.

Though when chairman Choi suggested marrying the young daughter of the alliance company, he wasn't exactly too thrilled.

When he first met (F/n), they didn't exactly get along, both had different views of the world and both had different priorities.

(F/n)'s priority was to give and to help, while Gun's were to kill just to get.

After some time, both alliances tried to set multiple dates for the two, though they weren't of consent, (F/n) and Gun were civil and handled it maturely.

Eventually, they grew quite fond of eachother, though they don't admit it.

(F/n) would constantly look out for Gun, she would treat his wounds and scold him for smoking and what not, Gun on the other hand brushed her off.

After all, their engagement were just of convenience, there was no point in trying to get attached.

Although, the changes in Gun was slightly noticeable, when confronted about it, he denies all accusations and gets frustrated.

So what if he doesn't smoke as often as he used to? Everybody knows that smoking is a bad habit.

So what if he starts to take care of himself? He needs to do so in order to fight better.

So what if he bought himself a small keychain that reminded him of his Fiancé? It was just a reminder of the contract he has to respect.

And so what if he found himself thinking about the young woman every night before he goes to bed? Though their soon to be marriage is only of convenience, it doesn't mean that he should treat her less.

After all, (F/n) is his wife to be.

ʚɞ ┊: Goo Kim

↳ Much like Gun, he prefers money over women, he also has a bit of a habit of spending a shit tone when he's upset, he doesn't care, he's got more money than he could count.

In a spectacular day, he found himself roaming around in an anime convention, he only had one goal, and that is to get as much Katanas he could.

He looked around and enjoyed himself, taking pictures with a few cosplayers, getting a bit of keychains and what not.

The moment he laid eyes on a man cosplaying one of his favourite characters, he immediately went by to say hi, the man was handsome looking, pale skin, sharp eyes and tall.

He was surprised to learn that it was actually a woman.

Goo couldn't believe his eyes that a woman is able to pull such a masculine cosplay, when the cosplayer asked him about the huge Katana haul, he excitedly explained that it was one of his favourite weapons.

The two talked for a bit and took a picture together, the cosplayer left Goo a small custom keychain and headed off.

A few days later, Goo found himself saving a young woman who was dresses up as a video game character from a group of perverts.

He was surprised when the cosplayer recognised him, and he was even more surprised when he found out that it was the same cosplayer he met a few days ago.

The cosplayer wanted to thank Goo so she ended up showing him her collections of swords, katanas and other weapons, Goo was over the moon and kept on drooling over the displays.

The cosplayer was kind enough to give Goo two weapons.

Goo never forget about it and has those two weapons displayed in his home, he also kept in contact with the cosplayer and goes out for coffee whenever he's free.

ʚɞ ┊: Samuel Seo

↳ It was a long night, Samuel's original plan was to drink the night away, he wasn't at all expecting to meet a talented woman.

He met (F/n) at a bar, she was singing a song, she was a stage performer.

After her performance, she tumbled upon Samuel, they noticed each other's presence but didn't speak.

What lead to them was the bartender, both of them had ordered the same drink and when the bartender placed down the fixated alcohol, Samuel and (F/n) reached out to grab it.

(F/n) was first to apologize, she claimed that she didn't know it was his, Samuel was already a bit tipsy by that point and thought about having a bit of fun.

The two of them ended up sharing the drink, they ordered a couple more as they continued to speak to each other.

It was the typical "fuck I fell in love in a one night stand".

Now Samuel bothers (F/n) in any chance he could.

ʚɞ ┊: Jake Kim

↳ Sinu tried to set up his dear Jake and his dear sister in law, Jake was of course not ideally please with the idea.

Although, he did end up agreeing due to Sinu's persistent PESTERING.

They ended up talking in a café, it went smoothly, it was a slow burn trope for the two, it took them a year and a half to actually admit they had feelings for eachother. — (Speaking from soon to be experience hehe).

Sinu was proud of himself being the source of the newly blossomed relationship.

ʚɞ ┊: Gongseob Ji

↳ (F/n) was unfortunate enough to found herself in a club with Gongseob Ji, she was only there because of her friends, Gongseob was there to pickup girls.

And sadly, (F/n) was the one he took interest in the most.

Once he found out that the two of them went to the same highschool, he began to attend school just to see her everyday.

Gongseob didn't really want anything else other than a sweet relief, but as he continued to appear any place (F/n) was, his friends started to tease him.

That's when he slowly questioned his feelings, and that's when he found out he actually liked her.

He wasn't discreet about it, he told her as soon as he found out.

It took a while but he was able to take her out to dinner after saving her from a group of delinquents.

༝༚༝༚𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚍

#lookism #lookism Headcanons #lookismoneshot #lookism samuel seo #lookism jake #lookism x reader #gun park x reader #goo kim x reader #gongseob ji x reader

219 notes · View notes

writingoddess1125 · 6 months

Text

Nerdy S/O 🎮 📖 🧛

The guys and their uniquely nerdy S/Os who they love!

Soap 🧼, Ghost 👻 , König 👑 x GNREADER

Soap + Cosplayer 🧛

• Johnny had met you when you were both at a bar, You typically werent too into the bar scene but it had lead you to meet the man of your dreams.

• Afterall who could resist that Scottish Charm?

• It had been 3 years of bliss shared between the two of you-

• Johnny knew from the beginning you were- quite the Nerd. He found it cute however! Even if he didn't understand it fully-

• Often getting back from deployment in the nice flat the two of you shared to see you dancing around listening to music while stitching some sort of fabric together.

• Johnny spent hours with you, Enjoying the craft of building your costumes and often wanting to join in the fun. Even if he knew nothing of the media this was involved in.

• "What is this costume for again?" He asked setting down the freshly cut foam to the side while you glued your peices down on some fabric-

• "This my Darling is a costume from the 1999 Mummy with Brendan Fraser" You say cheerfully as you stitch the costume.

• "Movie?-" He questions and you comfirm "Movie-"

• Will eventually start watching the Movies and TV shows with you. And gets really really into them as well- Turns into a big fantasy guy

• "Love- I want to cosplay with you at the next convention.. I wanna be a elf" He said shyly

• You damn near cry at this and hug him "Oh Honey I've waited to hear those words!"

• "I need to do the inseam-" You mumbled as you measured inbetween the man's leg to get the measurment.

• Will definitely want to roleplay in the bedroom. Feels like it has opened a new door for him and is more then excited-

• Comes in dressed like Han Solo with a wide grin- Fake gun and all on his hip as you laid on the bed in your own costume. "I do believe that you ruined my last smuggling trip- Sorry darling but you'll be paying for that another way"

• Will show you and his costumes off when he visits friends on base. Showing the last convention the two of you went to together- if anyone gives him shit he has no issue punching them.

Simon + Book Nerd 📖

• You and Simon had been married for years, the famed Lieutenant knowing from when he first met you that you were a book fiend

• It was a major part of you- And one he adored

• Simon was quite the reader himself but truthfully not as deep as you. Havibg seen you so engrossed in stories before that you forgot to eat.

• But books were also how you showed love.

• "Love, I know this is a long deployment for you.. so I want to send these with you so you don't get bored" You say softly, holding up a 3 book series to your husband as he prepared for his job.

• Of course he accepted and read them while on his missions.

• Enjoys whatever you give him, be it fantasy, sci-fi, historical fiction or what have you. He will always read them through and even take a note so he can talk to you about them later.

• Will also love when you read outloud to him

• "Honey I just got this series I want you to check out" You called out excitedly as you rush to your husband who is watching his Football (Soccar) game and sees you holding the collectors box. Calmly mutes the TV and gestures for you to sit and read out loud to him the new book.

• He had built you a library and Many shelves to store your hoard of books and got you a special couch to sit in and read.

• Does have a deep appreciation for Spicy Books and will happily warm up to prepare for your want to experiment.

• He had gotten you the book 'Den of Vipers' and had heard from the book store owner it was a spicy one- so he waited.. It took a few hours but you came into the bedroom flushed face. Simon having already stretched and was ready-

• He also knew about your fanfiction even if you were embarrassed and secretive about it. Occasionally you'd let him read over your work, which he would appreciate and genuinely enjoy the stories.

• Also will grab books while he is on his deployments or secretly read your fics on his phone.

• Buring a Mission he is stuck in a book store, as he is ready for the attack he spots one of the fantasy books you had wanted that had sold put before you got your little hands on it... so he slips it into the vest of his armor and goes on with his mission.

• Saved him 50£ anyway-

König + Gamer 🎮

• When you and König start dating he is a bit surprised by you playing video games.

• He was taught it was something children do- so to see his Partner playing is a big surprise for him.

• However you help him open his eyes to the media and introduce him to the fun interactive stories and escapism that video games help you with.

• This peaks his interest and ask to join your gaming adventure.

• "Schatz are you sure about this?" He ask softly as you get him to play some Mario Kart 8. He's nervous at first but after a round his competitive spirit comes out and gets very good quickly- Cheering loudly as he wins and gets first place.

• After this a massive gaming room is built in his home for the two of you to share. König now understanding why you love games so much and supports you hobby fully.

• Even if it's a very expensive one.

• The two of you having funny cute arguments over the games subtitles or language.

• "I want it in German with English subtitles so I can practice" You wine as König shakes his head- "Liebling I want English with German subtitles"

• This often ending with the two of you giggling together over it and a passionate session between the two of you.

• Will support you wanting to decorate the home with some gamer merchandise and even gets his own to throw in there.

• Will eventually start playing some other games without you. Something to help him relax and take his mind off things-

• Mainly Stardew Valley and Animal Crossing are his favorite at the moment. It helps him unwind after his deployments

• After the hardest of deployments will just want to relax with you and watch you.

• Will love to just have the two of you cuddle in a warm bed and watch game play videos if you guys aren't up to playing a certain game. YouTube being a wonderful addition

• Will download some games on a burner smartphone he keeps and play it in his bunks. If it's multi-player will invite you to join him so the two of you can spend this time together even at a far distance.

396 notes · View notes

rassicas · 1 month

Text

hi guys! im back. i went tokyo for a few days. got back at 7 this morning after taking an overnight 7 hour bus ride.... that i did not sleep on bc i cant sleep in moving vehicles. this will be something closer to a proper blog post i guess. splatoon related convention? experience below

i've kept my mouth shut about my plans to go because its not as well known on the english side of the fanbase and i didnt wanna make people too jealous sorry LOL , but i went to splaket 22! it's an unofficial, splatoon-only doujinshi market/artists alley. this was my first convention-sort-of event ive been to since i was... in high school. i also dont really get to meet many other hardcore splatoon fans irl. i was nervous about it because i don't know a whole lot of people on the JP side nor do i have a lot of confidence in my japanese speaking/listening, but in the end it was SUPER fun. i wish i couldve talked a bit more to the artists i did encounter to comment on what i liked about their works but. Skill Issue very few non-japanese people at this event of course but one of the only english speakers i saw i called out to bc they were wearing a shirt with this exact image printed on it no video and no photos outside of designated areas were allowed so i got like. zero pics of my own. but there was a lot of cosplayers i saw! oh and here's the Loot Haul. a few doujin, a clear file, stickers, microfiber cloth and a keychain. im surprised at how little i got, i think i shouldve gone a bit crazier with it

the one with Tao Blu and oonie in the top left (by sachikazerick) I came across by chance and bought because it was cute, featured splatband characters, and also because it all in some familiar inkling language (the last point of which i told the artist as i was buying) when i finally got home and saw the back credits...

SMALL FUCKIN WORLD LOL (i tweeted at the artist afterwards to let him know i came by the table and to thank him for using me and my friend's inkling language fonts!) though truly, i think ardnin deserved the credit more rather than me since he made most of those fonts! ah well, still cool to see more and more fan works using deciphered inkling language. top middle book is a story with some salmonid characters that i havent read yet but im looking forward to it, the art is lovely. top right one was the first thing i bought. the artist is rk_splaworks, whose art i love, and we've been mutuals for a few years and have talked a bit here and there! i was so fucking nervous to meet them in person since my japanese sucks LMAO but they were happy to meet me too and we got a selfie together yippy <3 also havent read their doujin Yet since ill have to rub all my brain cells together and huddle over the dictionary, but i want their oc lore

ok that's all i'll say, next splaket is...june 22. very soon....im already thinking ill. go again. yknow. while im still in japan and all that. i guess ill have to study harder on my jp in the meantime teehee ...i doubt it, but in the off chance anyone following me is going to the next splaket in june lemme know!

#much of this is me cross posting my tweets from the past few days and then some #rassicas speaks #ive forgotten to make a tag for my non-ask original posts so i guess thatll be it #anyway ill get to work on translating that famitsu interview teehee

152 notes · View notes

themaladpativedaydreamer · 4 months

Text

Fan Service

Pairing: Top!Male Reader x Chris Evans x Jensen Ackles Genre: SWP (Smut without Plot - very little plot) Request: Maybe it's a convention and the male reader is a fan of both of them and smut happens (you can choose everything) but bubble butt Chris and bubble butt Jensen with Dom top male reader Requested by: @innerpiratefun A/N: Here's another Top Male Reader. Hope you like it! (I don't own the gif above. I found each one on the internet and merged them together.)

It was that time of the year again when the convention centres were full of cosplayers and superfans who got together to appreciate the superhero-filled cinematic universes that offered entertainment, intrigue, and the occasional eye candy. Y/n stood, excitedly, in line waiting to get a picture with the Marvel actor, Chris Evans, and the latest addition to the Vought Cinematic Universe, Jensen Ackles.

He couldn’t help but admire the two handsome actors, as they joked together with a fan. Y/n’s gaze flits between each of the actors’ lips and the tamed beards that surrounded them. The admirable gaze turns lustful, the lower Y/n’s eyes travel as Chris and Jensen’s physiques become the focus of his stare. The fan’s eyes linger over the muscular nature of both actors for a moment before lowering to their jeans. Y/n’s mind goes into overdrive as he imagines what hides under the jeans of each actor.

“Alrighty, who’s up next?” Jensen’s voice catches Y/n’s attention breaking him out of his hot and heavy thoughts. He smiles at the actors as he moves towards them for a photo, giving each actor a tight hug, and allowing his gaze to shift downwards to the outline of their behinds. In a few moments, after the short interaction, Y/n walks off with his phone in hand having taken a photo with each actor.

After a few hours of listening to panel discussions, buying merch, and talking with other fans, Y/n was ready to leave and head to his hotel. He arrives back at the hotel and is lucky enough to see Jensen and Chris by the bar area, sharing drinks and laughing amongst themselves. He catches Jensen’s attention, who nods for him to come over. “Hey, we saw you at the convention.” Chris acknowledges the fan, watching him take a seat between them.

“Yeah, that was me. It was really good to see you, guys.” Y/n nods his head, feeling a bit nervous at the presence of the actors. “Yeah, did you like what you saw?” Jensen leans closer to Y/n when he speaks, offering a smirk. “You were looking at us pretty hard back at the photo stand,” Chris adds with an interested smile, his eyes briefly meet Jensen’s before looking back at Y/n.

One answer. That was all it took for Y/n to feel the two famous actors’ lips on his lips and his neck. The three passionately kiss each other while eagerly undressing each other and letting their hands roam over their bodies. Y/n shares a kiss with Chris, their lips pressing against each other and their tongues tossing around in their mouths.

Jensen roughly kisses down Y/n’s body, his beard, adding to the sensation the fan feels as he breathes heavily at the feeling of Jensen’s tongue swirling around his nipple. While his other nipple is entertained by the actor’s wet index finger and thumb. Y/n’s mouth pulls away from Chris’ to release a deep moan, causing the Marvel actor to move his lips to Y/n’s neck, kissing and biting him hard enough to leave marks.

Soon enough, the actors are on their knees before Y/n’s hard cock. The actors kiss each other before sliding their mouths on each side of Y/n’s cock, letting their tongues massage the hard member, eliciting a lustful “yeah” from the fan. As if his lust couldn’t grow, Y/n looks down at the sight of the actors praising his member with their lips and tongues. He looks past that to see them massaging each others’ butts.

The sight before Y/n prompts him to lift Chris up, giving the actor a quick kiss, and tossing him onto the bed. Chris positions himself on the bed on all fours, giving Y/n a clear visual of the actor’s pinkish hole and the hair that surrounded it. Y/n leans forward and his hands grab at Chris’ firm yet thick ass, squeezing it, massaging it in circles, and admiring the way it looked.

“Please…” Chris’ voice is heard over the sound of Jensen’s mouth sucking Y/n’s fingers while Y/n teasingly kissing America’s ass. “Please what?” Y/n questions huskily back before slapping Chris’ ass with his other hand earning a soft moan from the actor. “Don’t be a tease.” The actor speaks, spreading his legs wider, to the point where his knees are at the edge of the bed and his hole un-mistakingly begging for attention.

Jensen’s mouth moves Y/n’s fingers to his cock, wrapping his lips around the hard member and bobbing his head back and forth. Jensen’s tongue wraps, swipes, and massages the cock, allowing Jensen to taste the fan’s precum. Y//n’s hips move, in response to Jensen’s mouth, pushing his cock deeper into the man’s mouth. Jensen feels a rush of arousal at the sound of Y/n’s moaning, as the fan’s cock pushes against the back of the actor’s throat causing him to gag.

Y/n moans with his mouth on Chris’ hole, swirling his tongue around the sensitive spot, pushing it in and out of his hole. Chris pushes his ass further back into Y/n’s mouth, chasing the pleasure his fan’s tongue provides. Y/n’s tongue teases and prepares Chris’ hole before slowly dragging down to the Marvel actor’s balls. Y/n takes the balls into his mouth as his finger slips into the actor’s hole, causing a tingling feeling to course through Chris’ body.

“Mhm…” Chris releases a stifled moan as his upper body is relaxed on the bed. He feels another finger push into his hole while Y/n’s mouth closes around his leaking member. Two fingers become three, and three becomes four, stretching and thrusting inside the hero’s ass causing him to move his hips along with the thrust.

It doesn’t take long for Y/n to position his cock at Chris’ hole, lightly tapping it on the hairy pinkish area. “Tell me what you want, Chris.” Y/n deeply requests, pushing his tip inside but pulling it out again, not allowing his cock to go too deep inside yet. “You…” Chris softly breathes out, taking a break from prepping Jensen’s hole. Chris’ tongue goes back to swirling around Jensen’s hairy hole, flicking his tongue in different directions before thrusting inside the other actor’s hole.

“Fuck me, Evans…” Jensen mutters softly as he feels Chris moan on his hole. Jensen can feel Chris’ tongue push back and forth, he can tell that Y/n was finally fucking the Marvel star. He reaches behind him and pushes Chris’ face deeper into his ass causing him to moan at the feeling of Chris’ lips softly biting around his hole before.

Y/n’s thrusts were slow, controlled, and deep. The fan would watch as his cock disappear into Evans’ hole before rolling his hips back and pulling it out again. “God, such a nice fucking ass…” Y/n groans, lost in pleasure, while his hands grip Chris’ hips. Y/n lurches his head back lost in the sensation of Chris’ warm hole tightening around his cock, the feeling of the hairs on Chris’ ass tickling his waist, and the sound of moaning that filled the room.

They’d changed positions as Y/n lay on his back while the Avengers’ actor slowly brought his down onto Y/n’s cock. “Fuck…” Chris’ elongated moan, caught Jensen’s attention as he saw Chris take the entire length of Y/n’s cock in his ass. Jensen felt his cock twitch at the sight and more so at the feeling of Y/n’s fingers pushing into his hairy ass. Y/n, in this position, noticed how the on Chris’ ass was shorter and straight compared to the hair on Jensen’s, which was slightly longer and curly.

Y/n rolled his hips upwards and lowered it at a sensual pace as he thrusts his cock into Chris’s ass. Chris gyrates his hips when he feels the cock push inside of him and it hit close to his spot. “Deeper.” The blue-eyed moans around The Boys actor’s cock, continuing to bob his head back and forth on the thick cock. Jenson has his hand on the back of Chris’ head controlling the movements of his head while also rolling his cock into his mouth.

Y/n now had the tip of his cock on Jensen’s hole rubbing it around before slowly pushing it inside. “Yeah, that’s it.” The green-eyed actor moans as he feels Y/n’s cock push inside of him prompting him to push his cock into Evan’s ass. The scene was erotic, Y/n placed his hands behind his head as Jensen fucked himself with Y/n’s cock manoeuvring his ass back and forth on his cock, simultaneously fucking Evans. Chris copies Jensen’s movements by pushing his ass back and forth relative to Jensen’s movements.

“I-I’m gonna cum.” Chris moans, with his ass on Jensen’s face. He gyrates his hips on the actor’s face while stroking his cock over the man’s muscular chest. Y/n continues to thrust back and forth, in a much faster motion, into Jensen’s ass. The fan leans in closer to Chris, kissing him on the lips. “Give it to me, Chris… cum for me.” Y/n encourages panting softly, as he brings his lips closer to Evan’s throbbing cock.

Y/n continues to suck Chris’s cock, his tongue can feel the throbbing veins in the cock. It isn’t long before a string of curse words slip from Chris’ mouth as copious amounts of cum shoot out of his cock. Cum slips out of Y/n’s mouth and drips on Jensen’s chest, causing him to take some of the mixture of cum and saliva into his hand and start stroking his cock. Chris moves off of Jensen’s face and takes the Supernatural star’s cock into his mouth, eagerly sucking it.

Jensen arches his back into a moan as he feels Y/n’s dick push deep inside while Chris sucks him off. Y/n’s fingers start to squeeze and pinch at Jensen’s nipples, bringing him closer to climax. “Oh, yeah, fuck.” Y/n’s thrust speeds up at the feeling of Jensen’s hole tightening around his cock. “Oh, god, yes…” Jensen’s warm load sprays over Chris’ face and mouth, feeling an overload of stimulation.

Y/n feels Jensen and Chris collectively suck his cock while staring up at him. Their mouths collide on either side of Y/n’s cock with their tongues teasing and twirling on the cock. Y/n’s hands grip the back of each of the actors’ heads, using their mouths to bring himself closer to the edge. It isn’t long before Y/n’s load spills out of his cock, landing on the faces of the actors as they give satisfied smiles at him. The actors’ tongues and lips continue to pleasure Y/n’s sensitive cock, pulling the last drops of cum they can.

“Nothing like a little fan service to end the convention weekend, eh?” Jensen grins at the fellow actor. “Makes all of them all the more worth it.” Chris jests back before they share a kiss with Y/n.

#x male reader #xmalereader #Chris Evans x male reader #Chrisevansxmalereader #Chris Evans x Jensen Ackles #Jensen Ackles x Male Reader #Male Reader x Jensen Ackles x Chris Evans #Jensen Ackles imagine #Chris Evans Imagine

194 notes · View notes

avastrasposts · 5 months

Text

A Baker's Dozen - Two

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stand alone short stories, all set in the same bakery.

Hello!

I'm so overwhelmed and grateful for all the lovely comment you all left on the first part of A Baker's Dozen! I'm having so much fun exploring what it's like to write for different Pedro boys and finding their voices.

For those of you who are new, we've got twelve Pedro boys, twelve short stories, each set in the same bakery.

It's fluff and sweetness, lots of food and flirting. Series Master List

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3 @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring

The glare is what catches your eye first, sunlight bounces off the shiny metal surface and hits your face through the window. You shield your eyes and glance at the door as it swings open, for a second you can’t see who steps through, you’re almost blinded, but as the door swings closed, he, or she, comes into focus.

“Hi, welcome!” you say, trying to keep your voice steady as the imposing figure takes a few tentative steps into your bakery.

“Heading for a con?” you ask, glancing up and down the impressive outfit.

“A con?”

The voice that comes through the helmet is deep and resonates through what almost sounds like a speaker. It’s definitely a man, if the sheer size of the body didn’t give it away. He’s tall, broad and made even broader by the metal pauldrons on his shoulders. A heavy belt hangs around his narrow waist as if to emphasize the sheer build of this hunk of metal that’s standing in the middle of your shop, looking somewhat lost despite the fact that you can't see his face under a solid looking metal helmet.

“Yeah, like a convention, where people meet and dress as their favorite characters from tv-shows and stuff. Are you going to a con?”

“No,” comes the short answer.

He looks around the bakery, the black T of his visor seemingly scanning the selection of bread and cakes you have for sale today.

“Something smells…good,” he says, turning his helmet back onto you and you can’t help but smile.

“Thanks, yeah, I had a pretty tasty selection today, but most of it’s already been sold,” you wave your hand over the mostly empty display cases, “Do you want to buy something?”

“I…don’t think I have credit,” he hesitates but he takes another step into the shop, glancing down at the croissants stacked in a basket next to the till.

“We accept cash too,” you reply, “you don’t need a credit card.”

“No, I mean, I don’t have the right…currency for your world.”

“Oh…” you frown, did he just say ‘your world’?

You mentally shake your head, a misunderstanding, surely.

“I mean, I could let you sample something, then maybe you’ll come back with the right currency,” you say, smiling at the man. He sounds a bit confused and your customer service persona kicks in, unwilling to let someone leave without trying something that’ll get them to come back.

“I don't know what you sell here,” he says, “I have never seen food like this before.”

“Oh, really? What kind of baked goods do you have where you’re from?” you ask, surprised, you were sure pretty anyone would recognise at least a muffin and a cookie, both on display in your cases.

The tall metal man comes closer, standing next to the counter and looking at the selection, “We have many baked things where I’m from, but I have never tried any of them.”

“You’ve never had dessert?” you ask incredulously, “I have dessert every day, it’s a must!”.

“I’m Mandalorian, food is only energy for our bodies, we don’t indulge in it,” he straightens up when he says it, his hands falling to his hips. He looks imposing, like a warrior all of a sudden, and his voice takes on a serious note.

“Oh, wow, I didn’t know that was a thing, a mandalorian, huh” you raise your eyebrows, this guy doesn’t even seem like a cosplayer. Or he’s really in character.

“Are you not allowed to eat dessert at all, or is it just like, not an everyday kinda thing?”

“I can eat what I want but I’ve never had a need for dessert,” the voice coming through the helmet is a rich baritone, but holds a guarded edge, like the owner is trying to navigate something unfamiliar.

“I mean…technically there’s never a need for dessert, but I eat it everyday anyway. A good dessert is sometimes the only way to fix a bad day,” you give him your warmest smile, trying to make him feel a bit more at ease as you go back to straightening up your counter for the end of the day.

“What’s this?” The man points to the croissants on the counter and you pick one up with the tongs, holding it out to him.

“It’s a croissant, a French type of pastry. It’s not sweet, just has a metric ton of butter in it. It’s really flaky as you can see. Go on, try it.”

“I don’t remove my helmet in front of other people,” he replies and your eyebrows shoot even higher up into your hairline.

“What…but why?” The second the question comes out of your mouth you regret it, “Sorry, don’t answer that, it’s none of my business.”

“You can ask, I don’t mind,” he says and you think you hear a slight smile from behind the helmet. “I’m Mandalorian, it’s my religion, and we don’t remove our helmets in front of others, it is the way.”

“So you only eat alone?” you ask, curiosity overtaking your embarrassment and he nods.

“Yes, we never share a meal with others.”

“How sad, for me I mean,” you say, “One of the best parts about being a baker is seeing when others eat what I’ve made, I love seeing their reactions. If you try something, I won’t know what you think about it.”

“I can just turn my back to you and lift my helmet a little,” he replies, and you can definitely hear the smile in his voice now. It changes the tone of his voice, as it comes through the helmet, makes it warmer, softer, and you smile back at him.

“What do you want to try then?” you ask, “If you’ve never had dessert then I have to give you something special to try.”

“I don’t know,” he looks around the cakes and cookies on display and shakes his head, “I can read your signs but I don’t know what cinnamon or vanilla tastes like, or this one.” He points to a stack of millionaire’s shortbread, “I have never heard of peanuts.”

“Well, in that case, just in case you're allergic to peanuts, let’s not start with them,” you grin, “the last thing I need is you passing out from an allergic shock in my shop. That armor looks a lot heavier than what I can lift.”

The Mandalorian looks down at the plates that cover almost every part of his body, “It’s made from beskar, it’s a metal from my home world.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, and you mean it. The metal is polished and rich looking, a light gray color that catches the light as he moves, “It’s a very beautiful armor.”

“Do you want to hold a piece?” he asks, looking over at you again, or at least you think he’s looking at you, it’s hard to tell with the helmet.

“Is that allowed?” you ask, “I don’t want you to break any rules in your religion.”

“There is no rule against this,” he says, reaching up and taking off one of the shoulder pauldrons. It has the image of a dangerous looking animal that you don’t recognise, and as he hands it over, you see him reverently brush his fingers over it. Carefully you take it from his gloved hands, the metal warm to the touch, and just as heavy as it looks.

“It’s warm!” you say surprised and he nods.

“It holds my body heat easily, good for cold climates.”

You don’t know why, maybe because you can’t see even a sliver of skin on the man, but the thought of holding something that’s been warmed by his body heat, makes you slightly aroused. He could look like anything underneath all that metal and cloth, but his voice, his rich, low voice through the helmet, and his sheer imposing presence, makes you almost subconsciously attracted to him.

He comes around the counter and stands close as you turn the pauldron over in your hands, tracing the outline of the animal, feeling the warmth of his body.

“What is this animal?” you ask, looking up at your own reflection in his visor, “I’ve never seen one like it before.”

“It’s a mudhorn, it’s the mark of my clan.” He traces his fingers along the animal too, brushing against yours as you marvel at the intricate work.

“Thank you,” you say, handing the pauldron back as the touch of his fingers against yours becomes too much to handle, “Thank you for letting me hold it.”

“You’re welcome,” he says, his voice lower now that he’s standing next to you. You watch as he clicks the pauldron into place on his shoulder again.

How do you flirt with a man whose face you can’t even see? you wonder as he turns his visor back on you. It seems like he holds you in place for a few seconds before you slowly have to turn yourself away from him and the intensity of his sightless gaze.

“So you’ve never had dessert and you don’t know what any of this tastes like?” you say, giving your own cakes a critical look.

“No,” comes the voice from the man beside you, “Maybe you can choose for me?”

“Hmm…that’s a big ask. Your first dessert has to be something really special, but maybe not too overwhelming, and not too sweet either because if you’re not used to it, then sugar can be a bit too much. And it has to have the right combination of textures too so that you get the full experience and then maybe it should be-” you cut yourself off and look up at the man who’s shifted his weight, leaning against the counter and looking at you with his head cocked to the side. “Sorry, I’m rambling, I went into full baker mode.”

“No, go on, I enjoy hearing you analyze my first dessert experience,” he says, encouraging you to go on by putting his hand on your arm. The little touch makes you tremble slightly and you pray he doesn’t notice through the soft looking leather of his gloves.

“Really?” you ask, “Because I have an idea but I’d have to bake something for you, are you in a hurry?”

“No, I’m waiting for someone and they won’t be here until tomorrow,” he says, dropping his hand from your arm, “What would you make me?”

“Do you mind if I keep it a surprise? Only, I want you to have the best possible first dessert experience”

“I usually don’t like surprises but I’ll make an exception for dessert. And for you,” there’s a small chuckle from behind the helmet and it makes you smile.

“I’m honored,” you say, “come into my kitchen, I think I have what I need for what I was thinking of making.”

You sidestep him, making him turn sideways as you brush past him, and you don’t miss the way his hand comes up to the small of your back as he walks just behind you into the kitchen.

Your kitchen is big enough but the metal clad man takes up a lot of space as you direct him to stand by your workbench. He looks around it as you start going through your stores.

“I’ve never been inside a professional kitchen before,” he says, “I can see that you’re used to a lot of metal.”

You glance around at all the stainless steel counters and shelves that line the walls, stacked high with stainless steel pans, bowls and baking trays, and then the big shiny door that leads into your walk-in fridge before it hits you.

“Did you just make a joke about your armor?” you snort. But the man behind the helmet remains motionless and soundless as the giggle dies in your throat, afraid that you’ve somehow offended him. You look at him, your cheeks heating up, and then he chuckles loudly.

“Yes.”

“Oh fuck off, you’re terrible,” you exhale in relief, but smiling again, “I thought I’d insulted your religion or something.”

“No, jokes are allowed,” he says and you hear the mirth in his voice clearly this time, behind the visor he must be grinning widely.

“No more bad jokes, or you won’t get my dessert,” you give him a mock scolding look but he just tilts his head sideways.

“There’s another joke in that sentence,” he says, still a smile in his voice, “but I don’t want to miss out on your dessert.”

The innuendo is heavy and you have to bite back your grin, there’s no doubting his flirting tone, and instead focus on pulling lemons, sugar and butter from your stores.

“If you say so,” you huff and he chuckles, coming to stand next to you while you start prepping.

“So can you tell me what you’re doing at least?” he asks, picking up one of the lemons and turning over in his hand.

“I’m making you a pie, I already have the dough ready for the crust so I’m just going to roll it out and blind bake it before I make the filling,” you say, bringing out the rolling pin and the slab of pie dough you had in the fridge.

“I’ve never had pie,” he replies, “but I’ve seen them sold.”

“What do you eat?” you ask and you see him shrug, shifting a bit.

“Just…well, mostly freeze dried stuff that I can just add water to when I travel,” he says, “bone broth is nice too.” He shrugs again and you shake your head.

“You need to live a little, try some different food, life’s too short to live on freeze dried camping food and bone broth. Doesn’t your wife cook for you?” The last thing slips out without you thinking, your mouth racing ahead of your mind and you bite your tongue, apologizing again.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, or assume that you’re married, or that a wife should cook. Or that it would be a wife, just ignore me, I’m alone too much in the bakery,” you ramble, trying to catch up with yourself.

Beside you the Mandalorian shifts and stands with his hip leaning against the workbench so that he’s looking directly at you, he’s crossed his arms and cocked his head and it shouldn’t be that sexy, you can’t even see him, but it’s making your heart rate speed up as your cheeks go warm again.

“No, no wife,” he says, his voice somehow even lower than before, “no one to cook for me, and I wouldn’t expect my wife to cook for me either,” he shifts his weight, putting one hand down on the workbench, the other on his hip, “But it would be a wife.”

You refuse to look at him, it won’t give you anything, just that stupid shiny helmet. But you can hear the smirk in his voice, so you just nod your head.

“Good to know,” you press out, very much focused on rolling the dough to a perfect circle which isn’t strictly necessary.

“And you?” his asks, his low baritone vibrating the air around you as he seems to step even closer. His chest plate isn’t touching you but if you turn your head, your breath will fog on it. “Anyone to cook for you at home?”

“Uhm…no,” you stutter, “just me.”

If this was a normal man you’d expect to turn your head now and look at him and he’d ask if he could kiss you, or he’d lean in closer and just do it. But the helmet is in the way, how the hell is he so flirty with that damn helmet? He does know how to kiss, doesn’t he?

“I’m ju-just going to put this in the oven,” you say, trimming the edges of the pie crust, leaving the scraps of dough on the bench.

“Ok,” he says, still with a smile in his voice, watching as you line the pie with a sheet and then baking beads, before sliding it into the oven.

“What’s next, the filling?” he asks and you nod.

“Yeah, I’m going to zest and squeeze these lemons,” you pick up the one he’s left on the bench and show him how you get the zest off into a bowl.

“Have you had lemons before?” you ask and he nods.

“Yes, I think so, or something similar. But it was very sour,” he bends forward and looks closely at the zest you’ve mixed with some sugar. “It smells good though, do you often use them in pies?”

“Yeah, and they’re amazing in anything baked, as long as you have enough sugar.”

“I trust your skills as a baker,” he says and you smile at him.

“Thanks, I think you’ll really like this.”

He stays still a beat as you turn back to the lemons, “I already do,” he says, a whisper, just loud enough to escape the helmet. For a second you’re not sure he meant for you to hear it, and you let your hands continue squeezing the lemons before giving him a quick glance. It tells you nothing, the man might as well be a statue.

You start separating the eggs, letting the egg whites slip through your fingers, holding onto the yolks, until all five are neatly laying on the bottom of your mixing bowl. The silence is stretching between you and the man, still standing still, leaning slightly on the edge of the workbench. You can feel his eyes on you behind the helmet, watching as you stir together the filling, lemon juice, zest, sugar, corn starch, it all comes together.

“Can I ask you something?” You look up at him, slowly stirring the cubes of butter into the lemon mixture. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to though, it’s kinda personal.”

“Ok,” he says, cocking his head to the left.

“How…h-have…h-ow do you kiss if you can’t take the helmet off?”

He doesn’t move, the blank front of the visor steadily trained on you.

“Nevermind, it was a stupid question, don’t answer that,” you mumble, dropping your gaze back to the filling.

“No, it’s not a stupid question,” he says, and you feel the soft leather of his gloved hand under your chin, tilting it up, back to him. “There are…loopholes…in the creed. I’ve kissed someone, when they couldn’t see my face. But it requires a lot of trust.”

You’re staring at your own reflection in the visor, trying to discern where his eyes are. You wonder if he’s looking at your eyes or your lips, and you wonder what his lips look like.

What they would feel like.

“Does that answer your question?” he asks, that rich, warm baritone, distorted by whatever lets him speak through the helmet, makes your heart flutter, your breath catches in your throat.

“Y-yes…thank you,” you stutter, “yes.”

You bet he’s smiling at you again, as he lets go of your chin and you look back down at the filling.

“I’m going to fill the pie now, and then make the meringue that goes on top.”

“Ok,” he says, “I don’t know what that is but I bet it will be irresistible.”

It makes you smile, at the filling, as it pours, golden and thick, into the pie crust. It settles into a smooth layer, ready for the last step and you place the pie to the side and reach for the egg whites.

“Can I ask you a favor?” you ask and he nods.

“Of course, what is it?”

“The ancient looking mixer, up there, can you reach it?”

He steps behind you, over to the shelf and effortlessly lifts the heavy old Husqvarna machine, it looks almost weightless in his hands. Those hands, inside the soft gloves, are big, almost dwarfing the mixer and the thought crosses your mind, to have those hands on you, wrapped around your waist, or grabbing your thighs, lifting you up as effortlessly as the machine, placing you on the bench, pushing your legs apart and-

He carefully puts it next to you, and moves to stand on your other side. But his hand gently brushes over your back, just a small touch, but it makes you wish it lasted longer, and wasn’t so gentle.

The mixer is loud as you start it, whipping the egg whites into stiff peaks in just a few minutes.

“The trick,” you say, detaching the bowl, “is to whip them until you can hold the bowl upside down over your head and the meringue stays put.” You hold out the bowl to him with a grin, “Do you trust me?”

He chuckles behind the helmet and takes the bowl from your hand, “I guess I do, but you’re polishing the beskar if this falls on me.”

He carefully tips the bowl, holding it over himself, and the meringue stays put, not a drop falls on him and you give him a wide grin.

“I passed the test.”

“You did. Pity, my armor could do with a clean,” he says, his voice serious, but you can hear the smirk in it this time.

“Cheeky,” you laugh, “clean your own armor, I’m making you pie.”

You grab the bowl from him and start scoping out the thick meringue on top of the filling, creating swirls and peaks with your spoon. “It just needs to set now,” you say, taking the pie, “Could you open the fridge door, please?”

He takes a few long strides and works the handle, holding it open for you as you go inside and place the pie on a back shelf.

“I have never seen so many cakes before,” he says, coming in behind you, looking at the shelves of cake bottoms that are defrosting in preparation for your weekend orders.

The door behind you slips closed and the fridge is thrown into darkness.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you that the door needs to be wedged open, the light broke in here and I haven’t gotten round to replacing it,” you say, fumbling towards the door with your hand on the shelves, “I’ll get it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got night vision in my helmet,” he replies matter of factly, and you hear him walk to the door.

“You have night vision in your helmet?” You’re not sure he’s joking or not but judging by how quickly he moves across the small space, he must be seeing something.

“How does the handle work?” he asks as you hear the handle click and catch on something.

“You just pull it against you and it should open,” you say, carefully walking towards the sound of his voice.

“It’s not opening, it sounds as if the handle isn’t latching on correctly”.

“What? No, the door has to open!” You say, panic creeping into your voice, “I can’t…try it again, it has to work!”

You bump into him and his arm comes out around your waist, “Careful, don’t hurt yourself,” he says, his voice suddenly very close to you, steady and soothing, and it calms you down a little.

“Sorry, I’m- I’m not good with small places I can't get out of,” you mumble, holding onto his arm.

“The handle isn’t working, but I promise you, I can very easily get us out of here, don’t be scared.” He must’ve let go of the handle because his other hand comes up to rest on your cheek, the gloved thumb caressing your face with smooth motions. “Don’t be scared, mesh’la,” he says, his voice soft. If you move you think you’ll bump your head against the metal of his helmet, so you close your eyes and focus on his hands. One on your back, the other on your cheek, you take a long steadying breath.

“H-how can you get us out?”

“I have tools for it, in my belt, don’t be scared, I’ll get us out in no time…but…” he trails off, a small hint of uncertainty suddenly in his tone.

“I trust you,” he says, “and I want to kiss you.”

“You’ll take your helmet off?” you ask and in response you hear a low chuckle from inside it.

“Yes, it would be very difficult otherwise.”

“You don’t know that, maybe I’m used to making out with metal,” you say, biting your lip, and you’re rewarded with laughter in the darkness.

“Using my jokes against me, clever,” he smiles as his hands leave you. There’s a click, the soft hiss of air escaping, and you guess his helmet has come off. You feel him bend down, placing it on the ground next to him and standing up again.

“Ca-can you take your gloves off too?” you ask. “Yes,” comes his voice in the lightless room and it makes you inhale. Unfiltered it’s much richer, warmer, but somehow rougher, slipping around you, making you break out in goosebumps as you shiver, no voice has ever made you shiver before and now you want him to keep talking to you, to feel his voice in all your senses. It makes you lift your hands to find him in the darkness but he finds you first.

The soft sound of leather hitting the floor is the next thing you hear before his warm fingertips brush across your shoulder, finding your neck and trailing up over your chin.

“I’m as blind as you now,” he whispers, leaning closer, “tell me where your lips are.”

“Here,” you whisper in reply, taking his hand and guiding it to your mouth. He traces his thumb over your bottom lip, then the top, and you feel his hot breath skim over your skin.

His lips are soft, gentle, as he presses them against yours, a slight tickle of facial hair before he pulls away a fraction.

“Touch me,” he mumbles, “please,” a pleading tone to his voice.

“Where?” you ask, lifting your hands from your sides and searching for him, finding cold metal and a rough flight suit.

“Everywhere, my face, my hair, please touch me.”

He leans his face into your hand as you find his cheek, your other hand slipping around to the nape of his neck, the longer hair winding around your fingers. It’s messy and curly and so silky to the touch that you hum under your breath.

“You're so soft,” you say and it feels like he shakes his head.

“No, you are, can I kiss you again?” he whispers but you don’t reply, just find his lips with yours and he groans into your open mouth, your tongue coming out to taste his lips as he parts them, and you feel his tongue lick against yours.

His kisses are slow, and you match his pace, moving in the same lazy way as him, his tongue exploring and tasting every part of yours. Soft hands have come up to hold you close to him, his fingers in your hair, not letting you move from where he needs you. And it feels like a need, his soft presses turning needy, a soft moan escaping you as he pulls you closer, your whole body pressed up against his hard metal exterior. The contrast makes you feel disembodied, your legs, stomach, chest resting against cool armor, your face, your hands touching, and being touched by warm skin, soft hair, his demanding tongue growing in confidence by the second as he groans under your touch.

He suddenly takes hold of your waist, moving you without effort, pressing you against the door with his whole, tall frame.

“Your kisses are…” he pants, “please, I don’t want to stop, I…I…can’t.”

He’s mumbling between insistent kisses, his tongue dipping into your mouth, tasting, groaning as he needs more with every second that passes. And you would give it to him, you’re moaning into his mouth, pressing into him as eagerly as he’s pushing you up against the door. If he wants to fuck you on the floor of this fridge, you’d let him. His soft lips, rough hands, his heady groans, and when he finally gives in and grinds his hard cock into your hip, it makes you lose all sense of where you are, who you’re with.

“Mesh’la,” he mutters, another kiss on your lips, “Tell me to stop, mesh’la, I can’t stop on my own.” His tongue slips between your lips again and you thread your fingers through his hair and hold him close, keeping him from pulling back again.

“Don’t stop, keep kissing me,” you gasp, his thigh is between your legs, rubbing firm at your aching core.

He growls, his hand coming down to grab hold of your thigh, lifting it up onto his hip, and the door flies open. With a shriek you feel yourself falling backwards, crashing towards the hard kitchen floor. But his arms catches you, you hear the loud clunk as his metal covered legs and arm hits the surface beneath you, the other arm secure around your waist. “Don’t open your eyes,” he snaps, panic in his voice, and you squeeze your eyes shut, they almost flew open as he caught you. “I won’t, they’re closed, they’re closed,” you pant, the air knocked out of you.

“I’m going to put you down and then get my helmet, don’t move until I say so,” he says, still close, gently lowering you down to the floor.

“Ok,” you nod, staying still. But you don’t hear him above you, and his arm is still at your side. When he does move his chest comes flat against your own, his nose brushing over your cheek, bumping into yours, and then his lips are on yours again. Soft, warm, pliant, his beard tickling you, open mouth and gentle tongue, tasting and exploring with a low hum in his chest. When he finally pulls away and pushes himself up, you feel the loss of his lips like an imprint on your own, your fingers come up and trace across them, touching where he just was.

From the fridge you hear the click of his helmet being put in place and then his footsteps come back.

“You can open your eyes again,” he says, “thank you for keeping them closed.”

You blink your eyes open and look up at him, his face again hidden behind the visor, his expression unreadable. But his voice is soft and he holds out his hand to you, his gloves not on yet. You take it and he helps you to your feet, one arm around your waist as you find your balance again. Looking down at the hand holding yours, you trace your fingers along the thin white scars that crisscross the back of his tan skin. His hand is rugged, the pads of his fingertips rough and well used. It’s hard to imagine that these hands could touch you so softly in the dark.

“I…I hope I didn’t ask too much,” he hesitates as you keep touching his hand, holding it between your own, “I never kissed anyone like that before.”

“I liked it,” you mumble, looking up at his visor, his hand still between yours. “I’ve never kissed anyone like that before either. And I don’t even know what your name is.”

“Din,” he says, his voice low, like he’s telling you something guarded, “My name is Din, but I don’t tell many people that.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” you say and he nods, placing his hand on your cheek again. “Thank you, mesh’la.”

“I’ve never met anyone like you, Din,” you say, trying to find his eyes behind the black visor.

“I don’t think there’s any of my kind on your world,” he says with a small chuckle and you frown. “What do you mean, ‘your world’?”

He shakes his head, “Don’t think about it, it doesn’t matter, I just want to try your dessert now, like you promised,” his hand slips down to yours and he takes it, tugging you back towards the fridge, “Is it done yet?”

“Uuhm…yeah, I just need to torch the top a bit,” you say, confused, as he opens the fridge door again.

“I’ll hold it open this time,” Din tilts his head down towards you as you pass him, his hand trailing over your hand as you let go of him. The pie jiggles slightly when you tap it, so you pick it up and carefully bring it to the workbench again. Din closes the fridge door behind you and follows you back.

“I’ve never smelt anything like it,” he hums as you reach into your tools and pull out the small blow torch.

“Just wait until you taste it,” you smile, turning on the gas and igniting the torch. Din’s hand flies up to grab at your arm as the flame comes out but stops as he realizes what you’re doing.

“I have one of those too,” he chuckles, “But mine’s a bit bigger.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve used yours,” you grin and he shakes his head.

“It would’ve burnt down your kitchen, it's not really meant for this delicate work,” you can hear the smirk as he leans forward and looks on as you carefully caramelize the top of the meringue, painting the white swirls in toasty brown.

“There, it’s done,” you say as you turn off the blow torch and put it aside, “you’re very first dessert, a lemon meringue pie.”

“I can’t wait to try it,” he replies as you take down two plates, spoons and your sharpest knife.

“How do you want to eat it?” you ask, cutting a generous slice for him, bigger than you would serve to the customers. He looks at the pie for a few seconds and then cocks his head and looks at you. “I trust you,” he says, the smile in his voice evident under the unreadable helmet, “we can sit back to back and you can at least hear my reaction.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with,” you hold out the plate to him and he lifts it up to eye level, looking closely at the bright yellow filling and white meringue on top.

“I’m sure, I trust you. And I want you to be happy when you hear my reaction.”

“I hope you like it then,” you laugh, “Or this is going to be very awkward.”

“If it tastes only half as good as it smells, this will be the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” he takes your hand and pulls you down onto the floor, you begin to protest that you have chairs but he just shrugs and sits down, crossing his legs with his back against you. You sink down behind him, crossing your legs too. “Lean against me, mesh’la,” he says, “and don’t turn around.”

“I won’t, I promise,” you rush out as you hear a soft woosh of air from the helmet.

“I know,” he replies, his voice unfiltered and rich again, a low baritone that seems to send a shiver down your spine. The spoon clinks on his plate and he seems to hesitate.

“I just put my spoon in it?” he asks and it makes you smile.

“Yes, just get some of everything, and tell me what you think.”

You hear the rustle of his flight suit as he seems to move around a little, it’s almost as if he’s trying to figure out how to tackle the slice on his plate. Eventually you hear the spoon scrap over the plate again as he cuts off a bite.

You listen intently, wishing you could see his expression, as he silently tastes the pie.

“Maker…” he breathes out after a few seconds, the spoon clinking again against the plate and you hear him take another bite.

“Maker….” his mouth full and the word is muffled, “this is…” the spoon scrapes over the plate and you hear him take one more mouthful. His head leans against yours as he tips it back, sighing deeply.

“Maker…I’ve never tasted anything like this before,” he groans, “It’s fresh and rich and sweet, how have I never tasted something like this before?”

“Because you’re a fool, obviously,” you laugh, taking a bite for yourself. You know this pie is good but Din’s reaction makes you feel giddy. Behind you, you hear him take another spoonful, humming as he savors the flavors.

“I am a fool,” he says after swallowing down another bite, “this is like nothing else. I want to eat only this for the rest of my life.”

“That might not be the healthiest choice,” you chuckle, “and wait until you try chocolate, that’s on a whole other level again.”

“Thank you,” he says from behind you, his hand reaching back and finding your arm, “Thank you for making this, I’m grateful.”

“No trouble, I like seeing how much you enjoy it, especially since you’ve never had dessert before, you strange man.”

At that you hear him laugh, “I’m not that strange, just maybe on your world, mesh’la.”

“What does that word mean?” you ask, “Mesh’la?”

“I’ll tell you, if you give me more pie,” his voice is so cheeky it makes you laugh out loud.

“I’ve got you addicted it seems,” you reply and he chuckles behind you, “I’ll keep my eyes closed and you can take as much as you want, take the whole pie.”

“I can’t do that,” he says as you feel him shift behind you, getting to his feet.

“Of course you can, you should take it, I can make another.”

“I would argue with you, but the pie is too good,” he sinks down behind you again and this time you hear his spoon scrape over the metal of the pie form.

“Din?” you ask and he stiffens.

“Yes?”

“Are you eating straight from the form?”

“Is…Is that wrong?”

“No,” you laugh, “just a very good review of my pie.”

He chuckles again, relaxing against your back as he takes another mouthful. Together you sit in silence, eating the pie, cross legged on the floor of your kitchen. Yours is soon gone and you happily listen to your strange guest hum and moan as he all but seems to demolish the rest of the pie. Maybe you should tell him to pace himself, but he seems to be enjoying himself immensely.

After a few more moments the pie form is placed on the floor and Din groans, “I’m so full, but I want to eat more.”

“I should’ve told you to go slow,” you smile, “but just take whatever you didn’t finish with you.”

“Hmm…I…I ate the whole thing,” he says sheepishly and you giggle.

“You might feel a bit sick in a while, but don’t blame me. But I really love how much you loved it.”

“I’ll come back for more pie whenever I can,” he says, finding your arm with his hand again, “Please keep your eyes closed.”

“I’ll make sure to have it on the menu all the time then,” you smile, your eyes squeezed shut.

Behind you, you feel him move and turn, his warm hand coming up to cup your face, a thumb sliding over your cheek. His lips are soft and gentle as he brushes them against yours, his tongue slipping out, your mouth opening. He tastes of sharp lemon, sugar and butter, and underneath, his own self. He lets himself linger for a few moments, his nose stroking over your cheek, before he pulls back, your eyes still firmly closed. The click of his helmet lets you know that he’s once more covered up and you open your eyes, slightly sad that he can’t let you see his face, you’d love to see what those soft lips look like.

“I should go,” he says, a tinge of regret in his voice, “I have other things I need to see to before I leave.” He takes your hands and helps you stand, the remains of the pie forgotten on the floor as you follow him out to the front of the bakery.

“This��.was wizard…” he mumbles in a low voice, yet again standing by the door, “I’ve never…experienced something like this.”

“Me either, Din,” you mumble, suddenly very sad that he’s leaving, “Promise that you’ll come back some day.”

“I’ll try, but I can’t promise,” he says, his hand, gloved now, comes up to caress your cheek one last time.

He turns and puts his hand on the handle and something hits you, “Wait, hang on, just wait there.”

You rush back behind the counter and grab one of your bread bags and quickly put four croissants into it.

“Here,” you say, holding it out to him as you get back to the door, “For the road, or whatever you’re doing.”

He takes it, cocking his head to look down at the bag before he looks up at you again, “You’re going to make my armor fit very tight.” “Hey, I didn’t tell you to eat the entire pie in one sitting,” you grin and from behind the helmet comes a low chuckle.

“I still blame you for baking something far too irresistible.”

“Take care, Din, I hope I see you again sometime.”

“Me too, mesh’la,” he says, giving you a nod and opening the front door.

Part Three

If you want to try Din's Lemon Meringue Pie, here's the recipe I used!

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #the mandalorian

226 notes · View notes

clairdelunelove · 4 months

Text

next to you

itadori yuuji x reader

genre: fluff! (classmate!yuuji & transferstudent!reader)

warnings: none

synopsis: the thought of moving schools was disheartening. memorizing a different schedule, acquainting yourself with new people, and leaving your friends behind were factors that you did not look forward to. yet, when you're seated next to a blushy haired male with a sweet smile– you decide that you could get used to it.

a.n. I recently went to an anime convention and got a pic with the cutest itadori cosplayer ever! and unknowingly, upon checking my phone at home, saw that they gave me bunny ears in the pic! so hi jjk fandom! pls take care of me! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

head very full at the thought of itadori yuuji showing you around campus and can't help but have his interest pique at your arrival.

moving schools in the middle of the semester was a relatively difficult obstacle to overcome. it was unfortunate. the loss of packing up the life that you had grown into. you missed your old friendships– the ones that had you beaming when you caught a glimpse of your best friend waiting at the school gates or stifling a laugh from their silly jokes during class. initiating conversation was never your strong suit, either. words felt sticky on your lips and you instinctively shut down after the usual pleasantries were said. you felt awkward; and the sentiment radiated off of you in waves which, coincidentally, turned people away. so to say that you weren’t necessarily excited to be acquainted with your professors and classmates was an understatement. you had a new campus to explore, aloof introductions to give, and schedules to memorize. with each passing second your enthusiasm wavered. a frown tugs at your lips as you take a seat at your desk. but when you get a glimpse of golden skin, a beaming smile, and pretty brown eyes— you have a sneaking suspicion that moving wasn’t too terrible.

classmate!yuuji that puts in the effort to introduce himself to you right when you walk in. he’s extremely polite; a trait that you gather from how he leans over to bow his head to you. almost knocks over his desk from how quick his movements are. light brown eyes flickering to you, his curiosity gets the best of him once the spot next to him is occupied. “looks like my desk partner is here!” he hums while swinging his long legs in your direction so he can directly address you. “itadori yuuji,” he clarifies with a friendly smile, “pleasure to meet you!” and immediately you can tell that he’s charming in the way that has you warming under his vigilant gaze. soft eyes and tender intentions. you straighten in your seat to appear more inviting. hoping to garner a good first impression. anything to catch the interest of your new classmate. and when you introduce yourself through flustered stutters and pauses, he doesn’t seem to mind. no, yuuji just reaches over, slender fingers pointing at the strap of your backpack, and mentions, “cool keychain, by the way.” it’s a clay figure you molded for yourself as a tribute to your favorite- yet totally obscure- movie so the compliment causes your heart to flip at the acknowledgement. can already tell that he’ll be the highlight of your day. and when yuuji hears your sheepish yet overjoyed, “thanks. can't believe you know where it's from,” a beguiling grin curls upon his lips.

classmate!yuuji that takes the time to show you around the campus even if he’s late to club tryouts. despite his incredible athleticism, he’s not interested in joining any of the school’s clubs but the tryouts were fun. just a small event that brought the school together while crowds of upperclassmen coerced others to become involved. yuuji recalled agreeing to coming out to the track club’s tryouts; probably using his record speed as a persuasion tactic and he didn’t want to go back on his word. yet, he had a small task to take care of first. “and this is where your last class is,” he gestures with a broad smile. he’s currently walking backwards with his hands stuffed in his pockets while you trailed beside him. a couple students actively greeted him and he returned the sentiment with a nonchalant wave or quick fist-bump. the epitome of cool that you could only dream of. fortunately, you both shared a majority of classes together so he’d be there if you ever needed anything. he watches you jot down a careful note on the back of your binder to indicate the location before quickly expressing your gratitude, “thanks so much. really, you’ve helped me so many times today.” it’s true, he’d walked you across the whole campus and pointed out any rooms you may need in the future. his shoulders lift in a shrug, though, like it’s merely common courtesy, “'ts no problem.” his kindness causes a smile to curl upon your lips as you suggest, “is there anything I can do to pay you back? maybe buy you lunch sometime?” it’s a little forward, for your standards, but you can’t help but feel indebted to him. he took your nervousness and transformed it into comfort. unbeknownst to you, yuuji’s battling his own predicament because the light filtering through the window causes you to illuminate. a glowing halo surrounding you. you’re so angelic– long lashes fluttering when you tilt your head up at him. he gulps and clears his throat, “sorry, what was that?” his voice is sheepish and the tone is a little odd coming from someone so assured like he is. can sense the tips of his ears burning at the realization that the transfer student is unfairly pretty. so he shifts his feet while naively confessing, “it’s a little hard to think when you look at me like that.”

classmate!yuuji that thinks you’re the smartest person he’s ever known. you could be instructing him on how to solve a problem incorrectly but he’d always take your word that you’re right. will gasp and murmur, “oh, I gotta do it like that? got it.” and scribbles down the rest of his answers like how you showed him. gets defensive if someone else rudely tells you that you’re wrong for following a different format. his brows would furrow, bewildered when the blame is automatically placed on you since you were the transfer student. “(y/n) taught me this way and I got it right,” he’d mention while pressing his lips together, “so both ways work. nothin’ wrong with that.” the finality of his words usually do the trick to shut down any arguments. you even end up spending more time with yuuji outside of class. he’ll find you in some desolate corner of the library, buried in a textbook, and ends up canceling his plans so he can study with you. strolls in with a beaming smile and a quick wave of his hand. lightly chuckles when he recognizes how you hastily tidy your miscellaneous papers and pens. however, your studying sessions become a bit more talkative whenever he drops in. eagerly chatting about the latest tv shows that he’s been watching. “I like that one a lot too,” a smile graces your face as you clasp your hands together, “can’t wait for the new season to come out. I think it’s coming out in a couple months. april, maybe?” “yeah, april!” yuuji repeats and presses the tip of his pen to his lips while pondering, “wonder if the villain will come back during that time.” it’s irrational but seemingly minor moments like these were significant to you. and a pleased warmth spread within you at the fact that you shared some hobbies with your blushy haired classmate. if exams rolled around, though, the two of you put immense effort into studying. with yuuji dutifully reading his textbook next to you, you’re about to commit to your own studying when he lets out a sudden exhale, “this is so boring! I can’t do this.” he shifts in his seat, trying to get more comfortable, but unknowingly knocks his knee against yours. you’re giggling at his dilemma, however. “maybe you need a break or I could try helping. is it science?” it’s phrased like a question because you’re uncertain of how much help you’d be. yet, he defeatedly slouches in his seat and huffs, “help, please. you’re the smartest person I know.” and when you turn to him, you’re greeted by his wide, puppy-dog eyes for good measure. “woah,” you grin while gently pushing at his face, “don’t need to pull that move on me, mister.” yuuji yelps, reaching up to enclose his hand over yours before gleefully laughing, “it’s my secret weapon though!” and the rest of the session is filled with teasing smiles, soft nudges, and knowing hushes.

classmate!yuuji that greets you, without fail, every morning. he could be slouched over, scrolling through his phone, or idly chatting with friends– just occupied in his own circle of friends. it only took you a week to recognize that your blushy haired classmate was quite popular amongst your colleagues. well, he’s not necessarily labeled as ‘popular,’ but rather favored and admired. yuuji’s known to step in and dissolve petty arguments between other students or help a teacher without squabbling. carrying and passing out heavy textbooks to different classes with a polite smile. it was difficult to find someone that outwardly disliked him. no one had a reason to. students, upperclassmen and underclassmen alike, flocked to him whenever there were openings in school clubs. but he always gently declines with a dismissive wave of his hand before returning to flip through his comic book. yet, when you come scampering in the class, he visibly perks up. and as embarrassing as it is, your classmates know that whatever they utter to yuuji will just go over his head when you walk in. his bright eyes land on you as you settle in the seat next to him. “hey!” he greets with a tilt of his head, “g’morning!” right when you turn to him, he slides the book closed and rests his chin on his hand. gives you his undivided attention. the movement causes your eyes to catch that the sleeves of his dark sweatshirt are tugged upward and you knowingly shake your head. “don’t tell me you helped rearrange the desks before class again,” you teasingly chastised with an intentional glance to his calloused hands, “but good morning, yuu.” already your closest friend, the nickname for him was only natural. and yuuji never deterred you from using it– if anything, he was fond of it. causes a smile to break upon his face. it seemed like you caught him because he abruptly pulled away to scratch at the back of his neck, “hm, I had to.” then, he scoots closer to you before explaining with a playful grin, “besides, sensei let me keep the spot next to you because of it.” and as you desperately attempt to fight off the heat that floods your face, yuuji just shoots you another sweet smile.

#jujutsu itadori #jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #itadori x reader #yuuji itadori #yuuji fluff #itadori x y/n #itadori yuuji x reader #jjk x reader

180 notes · View notes

suiana · 10 months

Note

So I have seen most of your yanderes being males how about a female yandere just for the funni. Like I really just wanna suck some milky tits 🤤

(you can ignore it if you want to)

I love women, reader is kinda dumb but that's ok because reader is based of me when I see a hot woman

yandere! cosplayer x gn reader

"would you like me to do... this instead?"

you blush as she pushes her tits up against your chest. why wouldn't you? you were in an extremely sexual interaction with a super hot girl right now! and she's even dressed up as bayonetta! a character you absolutely love and adore! you'd have to be a saint to not combust on the spot.

plus this cosplayer was one of your favourites, her stunning cosplays whisking you off your feet with every picture she posts. today, you managed to meet her at a convention she's said that she's attending. you managed to find her amidst the crowds and luckily for you, she noticed your prescence.

though it was a little weird that she knew so much about you. I mean, she knew your name, when you'd be visiting, and practically everything about you! it's so weird! because your all of your profiles are on private and you've never talked to her, not even once! but who cares am I right? she's hot so it must just be a coincidence haha!

you had just wanted to get a picture with her, maybe a hug or two. but she had other plans apparently. pulling you aside, dismissing all of her other fans, it was like you were her lover. and weirdly enough, she even encouraged it when others called you her lover. like??? hello??? you two literally just met???

you couldn't understand it. not one bit. but to be honest you didn't mind. she probably has no bad intentions either way so it's alright to just go with what she wants.

though you didn't expect to be rizzed up like this. her gently carressing your face as she whispers about how much she loves you... wait is this a fanfic novel come to life?! your face was burning hot as you stared at the attractive cosplayer with wide eyes.

you couldn't move your body, too confused, horny and attracted to your favourite cosplayer confessing her love for you. wait, she knew you all this time and decided to start cosplaying to get your attention?! she hacked the algorithm to allow her posts to show up on your feed?! what?!

your mind was a mess, but so was the thing between your legs because god damn you did not expect for such a hot and sexy woman to be interested in someone like yourself. I mean, yeah you were hot but still!

meanwhile, the smitten cosplayer silently chuckled as she pinned you against the wall, her alluring eyes staring down at you. you were just so cute! so adorable~ she just couldn't help herself!

"everything I do is for you... I love you~"

she cooed, watching as your face continued to redden in embarrassment. god, she's thankful she found salvation in you. for if she didn't, she would never have experienced the love and joy of loving someone so adorable.

#tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere cosplayer #yandere cosplayer x reader #female yandere #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

399 notes · View notes

six-costume-refs · 4 months

Text

Six Makeup: Masterpost and Links

Hey y'all! Finally finished up a long promised post: all of my makeup suggestions for SIX cosplayers (and/or fans who just want to do some cool makeup looks)!!! I've been actively working on this post for about a year now and compiling makeup for even longer, so I'm happy to finally finish it. I'll get into more details in a moment, but first things first:

I'll include all the links below, but for easy access I made a handy-dandy Pinterest board. It is sorted by costume (sections for each queen + alt costume) and you can clink on any pin to be taken directly to buy it. I would recommend that people look there for a more visual/easy look at the recommendations; I realize pure text can get a bit old!

Some notes: - All of these links are to US sites, with a variety of US and UK sources. Most of these brands ship internationally and/or are available on Amazon as well. - I tried to factor in a large variety of material colors/shades, skin tones, and financial budget. You'll find a mix of US and UK-based brands, mainstream and smaller brands, drugstore versus more upscale, and some brands owned by women of color. - There's a broad range in the companies listed in terms of their ethics, animal testing, politics, etc. I'm including as many companies as possible to give people as many options as possible, but some of these I wouldn't personally financially support. I would strongly suggest that anyone do their own research into the brands listed. - Many of these products may be harsher on skin than your typical products. I'd suggest considering any potential allergens and skin testing any product before use, and using your regular base (foundation, blush, etc) to minimize the number of new products. (If you have sensitive skin or are worried about toxicity, I'd suggest Skin Deep for toxicity information and the FDA site for information on common irritants) - The vast majority of the makeup on this list is products that I know Six actors use. However, just because someone in Six uses it does not mean it's necessary to achieve a great look - there are many great alternatives for just about any product, and what works for a specific actor may not be what works best for you. (I'd also note that the vast majority of queens use some fairly cheap makeup, so you never need to feel like you have to pay more to get "stage accuracy") - Factor in where you're intending to use your products. Six uses some extreme stage makeup and truly crazy lighting; if you use these products with the exact same intensity in just about any other context, it will be way overkill. Convention lighting tends to be harsh so you can usually go a bit heavier there, particularly if you're intending to do any on-stage performances. But for everyday use or a closet cosplay to go see Six or an outdoor meet-up with natural light you will usually want to go much softer. (Photoshoots are a whole other can of worms and really depend on specifics) - Some of this information is taken from a series of Instagram stories Erin Ramirez did. I'm still writing up a post of everything she suggested, but I'll link it here when finished. - And, finally, have fun experimenting and finding what works for you!

Links to recommendation posts and inspiration: Glitters/shimmers Palettes, eyeshadows, and other accents Lipsticks (coming soon) Erin Ramirez's recommendations MAC partnership link Eye look inspiration (my Pinterest board)

#six the musical #six makeup #six hmu #six cosplay #six cosplay refs #six musical #six costumes #greatest hits

88 notes · View notes

milla984 · 7 months

Text

And in the Beginning...

Summary: after spending a day at D.C.’s most renowned multifandom convention Spencer and Garcia stop for a coffee. Spoiler alert - our fave Resident Genius dumps their order on Reader.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader (Reader is a sci-fi buff)

Category: fluff

TW/CW: swearing, mentions of food, some Star Wars-related talk

Word Count: 2k

Once again, a ginormous THANK YOU to @drgenius-reid for taking the time to beta-read the first draft (aka witnessing the horror)!

The following work is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins' CM Meet Cute (or not) Challenge and is also part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

“Highlight of the day?! Jamie Hewlett signing my copy of The Cream of Tank Girl! In you face, Mr. 'Superman Can Fly'...!”

The woman carrying a Chinese paper umbrella rummaged through her purse to retrieve a wallet and pay at the coffee truck parked outside the convention center; stylish two-tone glasses matched the army green jumpsuit with a teddy bear patch on her right leg and the blue mandarin collar button-down shirt she was wearing, and her blond hair was tied up in a pair of small side buns.

The tall man beside her chuckled as he picked up two cups. “I don’t know if I should be more impressed or worried.”

“Why?! We made a deal and it’s perfect: he can have Sci-Fi-Gate, I’m keeping WashCon.”

“Sci-Fi-Gate has amazing Star Trek guests, though…”

A long and colorful scarf was wrapped around his neck and a deep red cravat necktie peeked out of the hem of a plaid design vest, combined with a single-breasted brown coat and a pair of grey pants.

“I can't believe you would really choose the Captains of the Enterprise panel over my emotional stability,” she frowned, paying zero attention to the cosplayer in a trenchcoat with a pair of black wings attached to their back she was about to brush past.

When the feathers smacked her cheek she pulled back, the tips of her umbrella almost poking the tall guy dressed as Doctor Who in the eye; the sudden movement startled the cosplayer and a rapid swing of their dark wings created a commotion in the crowd of people waiting for their turn to order. In the confusion that followed, a random shoulder bumped into yours and pushed you out of the line and off the sidewalk, right in front of the Fourth Doctor - who was struggling to maintain his Fedora in place and watch where he was going at the same time.

Needless to say, he ended up failing at both.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” the blond woman asked.

“I’m so sorry, SO SO SORRY—” the tall guy apologized simultaneously and she cut him off, rushing to your side.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

The frantic exchange prompted your brain to whoosh into light speed mode to elaborate and discharge the ‘Ah, shit!!’ and ‘wait… is this iced macchiato?!?!’ inputs in favor of a more suitable reaction at the sight of the considerable amount of caffeine soaking your hoodie.

“... I think I’m okay.”

“First-aid manuals suggest removing all clothes or jewelry near the affected area within moments after the spillage of a hot liquid,” the tall guy said, and the woman gasped in shock.

“Please tell me you didn’t get burned! Once I got this non-fat steamed white chocolate vani—”

“I’m fine,” you growled a bit.

Someone behind you was snickering and, despite the relief of not having sustained serious injuries, the attention was already making you feel uncomfortable.

“Scalds are caused by sources of humid heat and certain types of fibers retain the water, which can be responsible for additional damage to the skin,” the tall guy explained again, speaking faster than anyone you had ever heard.

You tucked your shirt in your jeans and raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Let me guess: you’re a doctor.”

“Well… uhm, yes, this is my…” he faltered, unable to tell if you were referencing his costume as a pun or not. “I am, actually.”

“Not that kind of doctor,” the woman added.

She sighed as soon as she realized you were standing there speechless, drenched in coffee, your gaze wandering back and forth between them. “I’m so sorry…”

“They should be more careful with the lids. I think I got lucky,” you muttered through gritted teeth as you pulled the zip down.

Thanks to the decision to splurge some money on yourself, earlier on, you had something to replace your soiled hoodie with. The Fourth Doctor looked away and focused his attention on the cups he was still holding in his hands; before he threw them in the nearest trashcan he inspected their content, confirming he’d fortunately spilled on you a combination of 98% half-caf iced caramel macchiato and just 2% regular hot americano.

The woman was still clasping the handle of her umbrella. “Listen, we were about to check out this itsy-bitsy lovely Indian place ‘round the corner, maybe you should come with us. You know… to try and get cleaned up a little.”

You dug into the shopping bag at your feet, taking a sealed package out to rip the plastic film wrapped around a brown sweatshirt with a stylized front print of the panoramic view of the desert, Jabba the Hutt’s palace and twin suns on Tatooine, and put it on.

“No offense, but my parents taught me to never follow strangers.”

“None taken,” the tall guy replied, “they were absolutely right. According to the National Missing and Unidentified Persons System, about 90,000 individuals are reported missing in the U.S. every year and the National Institute of Justice estimates that approximately 4,400 unidentified bodies are recovered annually.”

For the second time in less than five minutes, you considered the possibility he could truly be from Gallifrey. You also wondered if he was aware of his perfect facial structure: everything about his demeanor indicated he wasn’t too skilled in the art of charming people using his sculpted jawline and lean figure.

“... do you always quote statistics about murders and kidnappings like it’s a casual topic of conversation?”

His eyes got even bigger, showing a hint of gold on the inside. “It was merely an observation—”

“Yeah, he… does that,” the woman came to his rescue, “and even if it sounds bad, trust me it’s- it's part of his job. Our job. Except, I don’t deal with the scary, disturbing, yucky stuff.”

Your question wasn’t meant to come out in such a sarcastic tone. “You’re cops?!”

“FBI. Tech Analyst and Behavioral Analysis Unit,” she explained, and the tall guy waved a silent greeting at you.

Even though the chance of running into the Bureau personnel stationed in D.C., at some point, wasn’t unreasonable, ‘two FBI agents walk into a multifandom convention dressed as characters from sci-fi TV shows’ could have easily been the beginning of a bad joke.

Plus, it was hard to picture the Fourth Doctor as a G-Man. “What’s your Ph.D. in, exactly?”

“I have a Ph.D. in Mathematics. And Chemistry, and Engineering. And I hold BAs in Psychology, Sociology and Philosophy.”

“Google him. Spencer Reid, B-A-U,” the woman suggested after a short pause, in response to your skeptical expression.

Judging by her tone she was daring you to, as if the situation wasn’t already giving off major The Twilight Zone vibes… and yet, instead of bidding them an unenthusiastic farewell, you pulled out your phone to type his name.

A plethora of results popped on the screen seconds later, so you first clicked on the link titled BAU’s newest member.

“With three doctorate degrees from Caltech already, and a staggering IQ of 187 as well as an eidetic memory there is no psychological exam or test the FBI could put in front of him he could not ace,” the piece said about newly-recruited Spencer Reid.

“When I ask why he chose Caltech over MIT and Stanford, he quickly runs down a list of Professors he had a desire to study with. He makes no mention of the weather or girls,” an older article reported.

You skipped through at least a dozen mentions of SSA Reid’s outstanding performances in the field, then a PDF document, property of the California Institute of Technology, caught your interest and you read the title aloud.

“Identifying non-obvious relationship—”

“Non-obvious relationship factors using cluster-weighted modeling and geographic regression,” he recited by heart, “that's my Engineering dissertation.”

He was too prepared on the subject and too adorably peculiar to be an impostor posing as a genius FBI agent for kicks, during the weekend; you picked his Fedora off the ground as a peace offering.

“Seems like you’re a wunderkind, Doctor Reid.”

Spencer lowered his chin so he could mask the rush of blood to his cheeks and his friend giggled, gently linking arms with you.

“Now, there’s something relevant we need to discuss, pronto… how do you feel about veg biryani?”

An hour and a half proved to be all the time you needed to form a solid conviction that Spencer Reid going on a spiel about the original blueprints of a fictional space station was the best thing since sliced bread.

“It’s part of the iconic imagery Lucas wanted to establish, there’s no health and safety. And don’t forget it was originally designed by the Geonosians.”

You snorted at the mention of the classic ‘designed by a flying alien species’ argument. “That’s not an excuse! Even if the Geonosians designed it, they knew it was meant to be used by humanoid creatures.”

After leaving the restaurant, where you had insisted on paying for your share - much to Garcia's dismay, you’d walked back to the convention center’s parking lot and now you were waiting by your car for Penelope to get hers. As you had recently discovered, she loved mugs, old Italian movies and playing the ukulele; Spencer wasn’t as outgoing and chatty, especially about his private life, but Star Wars was for sure one of his numerous areas of expertise.

“TIE fighters don’t have a proper defense system and the original prototype even lacked structural integrity to support atmospheric flight. The Empire doesn't care about casualties, it’s safe to think they never bothered to install a guardrail or other appropriate safety measures because to them the Death Star technicians are expendable.”

“Okay… solid theory,” you admitted, making him smile as he wiped his forehead to get rid of a lock of curly hair.

“Thank you. It’s nice to have a discussion with someone who knows about the Geonosians. Or the Death Star. It only happened twice but I’ve had people asking me what that was.”

When the convertible Cadillac with a plastic Hawaiian lei tied to the rear-view mirror stopped inches from you, Garcia - behind the steering wheel - proudly gestured at the extension of her eccentric personality.

“Meet Esther. Isn’t she fab?”

You wolf whistled your appreciation, gliding your fingertips over the leather upholstery and orange body paint. “Quick question: how much do you think I’d get if I sued two FBI agents for… damages, let’s say?!”

Penelope produced a fluffy pen out of the glove compartment and scribbled something on the back of a PetMAC receipt she handed it to you.

“Sweet pea, if I were you I'd settle for a lifetime of free IT support.”

“I’ll take it,” you said, “I’m kind of tired of being bullied by my own laptop.”

She stared at you for a moment before her face lit up, like a girl on a trip to a four-story candy shop. “... have you ever been to Baltimore ComicCon?!” she asked out of the blue while Spencer plopped himself down on the passenger seat.

You shook your head. “Do you guys—”

“We should totally go together!!” Garcia proposed. Or rather, declared.

In all honesty, the prospect of attending another convention on your own was depressing and you’d given up on the one in Maryland for that specific reason; you turned to Spencer for his approval, too, and he nodded, maybe because he knew there was no way of stopping Garcia if she had her mind set on a specific goal.

“Baltimore it is, then…?!”

Penelope shot you a smug grin. “Keep in touch. We still owe you a nice dinner and ComicCon’s not up until September, I’d hate to run a background check on your license plate to find you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the idea and saluted them goodbye as they drove off, Esther’s taillights shining bright red.

What a weird Saturday. Meeting a real life genius and the quirkiest FBI agent ever came with a price, and one of your favorite hoodies was most likely beyond salvaging. You needed to know if Spencer Reid was well worth it.

Garcia’s words then echoed in your ears, so you sat in your car and unlocked your phone, scrolling through the most recent Google searches: you had a lot of reading to do.

@matthew-gray-gubler-lover, @thisiscalmanditsdoctorreid, @pretty-boys-book-club, @spookydrreid, @f-me-reid, @foxy-eva, @scorpiofangirl1109, @a-potato-wearing-plaid, @cynbx, @reidsbookclub, @nagemasstuff, @hotchsdharma, @reidmainbitch, @lizzylynch1, @will-grahams-eyes, @padawancat97

»»»— read pinned post for taglist info —«««

#spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid x reader #my gifs #milla writes stuff #mentioningmargins #there are references from a couple of other tv shows hidden in this work #feel free to let me know if you can find them #quot “i understood that reference”

122 notes · View notes

meowmeowriley · 3 months

Text

Convention Commotion

With help from the lovely @tactax-art, who encouraged me and drew the art for me, this is a lil continuation of the previous cosplayer AU for my beloved Costume Anon ❤ Hope everyone enjoys 😉 proper art near the end of the fic.

***

What had started as his uncle taking pity on him for not being able to go to a convention by himself, had become a tradition of sorts. Any time uncle John was on leave, he'd ask Andy if there were any conventions. And any time there were, they'd meet up with Simon.

"Ye cannae call him Simon, Andy. It's Lieutenant Ghost, or Lt., or Mr. Riley. Or anythin' else, really. Just show him some respect." Uncle John had chastised him after he'd asked once if Simon was gonna be at convention they'd just arrived at.

"Until he joins the army, Johnny, I'll have none of that nonsense." Uncle John had jumped out of his skin (Andy had too, but that was less surprising. He wasn't a highly trained soldier, after all.) when the big fucker had snuck up on them and began speaking. "Just Simon is fine, Andy."

"Chew ma banger, uncle John." He'd said with a shit eating grin, before ducking out of the way of his uncles swipes.

So they'd taken to meeting up with Simon at conventions. Andy had realized two things rather quickly. One: there was undeniable chemistry between the two of them, and two: neither one of them was going to make a move on the other.

They danced around each other. Flirting, but in a "ha ha, I'm only gay for the joke" kinda way. They stared at one another, getting lost in each others eye's in a sickening display of obviously clear affection. God forbid one didn't catch the other's eye, either, because when that happened the one staring would take on this dreamy dopey smile. They were constantly touching. Brushing up against one another, putting their hands on the other's shoulder, or back, or thigh.

They were disgusting. It was adorable. And he had to share it. Because if Andy could see how perfect they were together, so would the internet. 28,000 followers on tiktok later, and every convention they went to, Andy filmed the whole thing. He'd divvy up the videos and get months worth of content, to tide them over till his uncles next leave. Simon and uncle John had no idea how large their fan base was. Or how feral. Those who weren't hard-core shipping the two together, were vying for the attention of one or the other, or both, in the comments.

For most, though, they'd lose their minds with every little interaction. Every gentle touch, prolonged moment of eye contact, soft smile, or act of service from one man to the other, and their fans were swooning, and it seemed all their waiting was finally paying off. Or, at least, Simon was now aware of John's feelings, though how he'd found out was less than ideal.

***

Soap was ecstatic. After the Spiderman and Deadpool totally-not-couples-costumes went over so well with other patrons at their last convention, Andrew had assured them that their tiktok fans were over the moon for them as well, Simon had agreed to do more comic book stuff with him. While Soap had wanted to be Deadpool, he couldn't deny how well it suited Ghost to be the merc with a mouth. Soap hadn't known beforehand how much the man loved katanas, nor that he even knew how to use them. More important than his skill with the (in this case fake) blades, however, was Simon's ass in that outfit. Which had led him down a rabbit hole of sorts. Yes, it was the source of plenty of wet dreams both before and after seeing him in spandex, but that wasn't what this was about. No, after seeing Ghost dressed as Deadpool with his nearly godly physique, John couldn't help but think of the superior comic book company: DC. Ghost would make an incredible Red Hood, and Soap had wanted to be Nightwing since he was a lad. After voicing that desire, Ghost had agreed, and got to work on the costumes.

At some point during the process, Gaz had found him deep in his work and asked Ghost about it. He then promptly kicked down Soap's door to yell at him for not telling him about their 'convention dates' he wouldn't hear of it that they weren't dates.

"So Gaz is comin' now." He'd said in lieu of greeting when he'd entered Ghost's room that night.

"Mhmm." Ghost had nodded and continued to work away at his sewing machine. "Said he had a matching cosplay. 'Red Robin', he'd called it. Assured me it was different from mine. Tried to tell him I wouldn't know or care, I just enjoy makin the costumes." Soap had made himself comfy on Ghost's bed, and pulled out his journal to doodle. Ghost continued. "Roach is tagging along too, said he has a costume for Blue Beetle. Said it's not Batman related, but it's the same comic franchise."

"Blue Beetle's costume is pretty sick, that'll be cool." Soap had been a little down in that moment that the others would be tagging along, and he'd no longer have Ghost to himself, but he got over it quickly. They were still his friends. "We should drag Price along. Bring the whole team."

"You convince him to go, and just tell me what to make."

And now here they were. The 141, arguably the worlds most elite counterterrorism task force, dressed up as various DC characters. At a cosplay convention. Soap had never felt hotter.

Andy had hit it off with Roach pretty much immediately, the two of them talking at length about tiktok of all things. Soap wasn't aware that Roach had one. They couldn't convince Price to wear a costume, but that was okay. Several people approached him and said his Dum Dum Dugan colspay was cool, resulting in all three of his sergeants cackling at his confusion.

"You can't smoke that in here, boss." Ghost had whispered when Price placed a cigar in his mouth.

"I'm not. It's for emotional support." It fueled other peoples assumptions that he was cosplaying a marvel character, is what it was doing.

As was usual for a convention with Simon and his incredible cosplays, they were stopped by tons of people for pictures, and Andy recorded everything.

"Excuse me." Their group turned around to see a man in red, maroon, and gold robes of some sort.

"Oh, cool! Prince Zuko!" Well at least Roach knew who he was.

"Oh, uh, my friends call me Costume An-... You know what? Yeah. Just Zuko works. Can I get a picture of you guys?" Everyone nodded or gave the guy some sort of affirmative, and he turned specifically to Gaz and Ghost. "Do you know the panel where Tim kicks Jason in the balls? Can you do that? It's my favorite."

Soap knew the panel. Gaz knew the panel. Ghost certainly did not. All eyes were on him. He shrugged. "I'm wearing a cup." Gaz had the most feral grin Soap had ever seen him with. In hindsight, that should've been their warning.

"Right, Lt., you're gonna stand here," Gaz placed Ghost with his back to the cameras held by both Zuko and Andy. He used his foot to guide Ghost's stance wider. "Like that. Perfect. Everyone ready?" Gaz had the cheek to wink at Andy's camera.

He reared back.

And gave it everything he had.

That cup could only do Simon so much good.

Everyone winced as Ghost crumpled. "Gaz what the bloody fuck?!"

Price was barely keeping a straight face. He used his hand to grab his cigar and hide his failure. "Haven't heard your voice that high since you enlisted, Simon."

"He's dead." Soap whispered.

"You're dead." Roach informed Gaz as he made his way away from Ghost, who was still crouched on the floor.

"I'm dead." Gaz agreed, albeit with a shit eating grin. "Worth it, though. Bastard used me as a training dummy for forty-five goddamn minutes yesterday!" Soap had seen the aftermath, Ghost was pissed at some rookies and dragged poor Gaz into the ring to blow off some steam. The bruising all over Gaz's body were no joke.

"You said you weren't going to hold it against me!" Ghost wheezed.

"I lied!" Gaz shot back.

"Dude..." Andy definitely felt bad for poor Ghost, as did Soap.

"Man I needed those working." He bemoaned. Talk about foot in mouth, he hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Oh, d'you two get your shit together? I'm sorry, I guess." Gaz laid a hand on Soap's shoulder.

"You'll apologize to him and not to me?!" Ghost's voice was marginally less strained and more angry.

"I was apologizing for accidentally cockblocking you two. I didn't know." Well neither did Ghost! John thought angrily.

"WHAT?!"

"GAZ!"

Gaz clearly realized his mistake, because Ghost was on his feet, and Soap himself was fuming at being outed like that. He bolted. Soap gave chase, and could hear Ghost charging after as well.

***

Andy turned to their new buddy, Zuko. "You'll send those to me, right?" He asked. He didn't really feel like Simon deserved that, but damn was it funny.

"He's gonna be okay, right?" Zuko asked.

"Ghost has taken worse hits. Gaz might need medical leave when they catch him though." Roach said while laughing. Soldiers were weird. But damn tiktok was gonna love this. Maybe they would finally get their shit together after they finish breaking their friend's legs.

#ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #cod mw2 #call of duty #modern warfare #fanfic #fanfiction #text post #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #gary roach sanderson #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #cosplay #cosplay au #cod fanart #cod fanfic

67 notes · View notes

sashi-ya · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 [+18] 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐰 𝐱 𝐟! 𝐩𝐫𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 [chapter one] ʚ masterlist

ʚ synopsis ɞ reader enjoys cosplaying, slowly but surely she became more and more noticed by the community. However, from exposure also comes dangers. Thankfully, a modern knight will be there to protect a modern princess. Will they protegonize a cute fairy tale? or will be a tale full of dragons to defeat?

ʚ tw ɞ MDNI. not the sweetest story (yet). SEXUAL ABUSE INTENT (she is fine and safe). usage of drugs. medical terminology and treatment. I wanted to have the opportunity to spread some awarness about certain topics; being in danger is -unfortunatelly- something common nowadays when you are a woman or part of any minority, therefore having information to avoid those dangers seems absolutely necessary. So you will find some bits and pieces of information inside the story. If you need any type of support regarding these topics, please contact with someone who can help you. I am here to help you as a nurse and a woman.

ʚ masterlist: part 2, part 3 part 4; part 5; final

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧

He wasn’t very fond of conventions. Since Sora the Warrior of the Sea had ended, he didn’t enjoy the crowded space of geeky events. But his friends, did.

“You owe me one” Law grunts, as he clenches his tattooed hands to the steering wheel. They are absolutely stuck in traffic, the line to get to the convention centre parking seems endless.

“Captain!! Don’t get mad at us!” Penguin, one of his best friends, chime. The rest of the “crew” echoes him, giggling and full of good vibes.

“Do not call me captain, Pen… I- we were kids!” Law grunts feeling his cheeks turn red; he cringes every time he is called “captain”. Yet, deep inside his heart, the word reminds him of whenever there were no worries, and they would pass their free days playing “pirates”.

Half an hour later, and having listened to Uta’s song thrice, they finally find a spot to park. Soon, as they do, Bepo jumps off Law’s yellow SUV urging Shachi to help him fix his cosplay.

Bepo, the man of pristine white spiky hair and everlasting blushed cheeks, has taken a liking into dressing up as his favourite characters from books and anime. And so, his friends, are there to support him no matter what.

As they walk towards the entrance of the biggest hotel they ever been to, they hear some commotion approaching them. Like a violent gust of wind, a bunch of photographers and fans pass, pushing them to the side, completely unaware of their presence.

“What the fuck?” Law grunts, annoyed. -even more. “SHE- LOOK…!” Penguin and Shachi gawk at the beautiful angel walking through the entrance of the conference room. “It’s Princess Uta!!”

Law rolls his eyes. He seems to be over with those new idols, and, not to mention those who also cosplay. He considers that they are a bunch of “kids”, immature and annoying. Truth is, that deep inside of him, things weren’t like this that much.

“Come on, I don’t care who she is we should get going. Bepo, you will be missing the cosplayers alley… didn’t you tell us you wanted to meet someone in particular?”

The white-haired boy, with the cute expression of a polar bear, widens his eyes. His friend is right, he wanted to meet some beautiful cosplayers there.

The four friends begin to walk inside, avoiding a bunch of screaming teenagers -and not so young ones-. It’s hard to breathe, the place is packed with people buying stuff, taking pictures, or simply hanging out.

“Tch… all these people…” Law grunts; the more people around, the more he feels overstimulated. He hates loud noises, and the crowd around isn’t helping. However, despite his annoyed countenance, some merch catches his attention here and there. Deep inside, Law is still a nerd.

Many people pass by, scanning his façade that hides beneath a white dotted cap. His icy eyes couldn’t care a less; no woman receives a reciprocated smile, nor even a look. Law is above all things; he is not interested in finding love in a place like this.

In between many heads and fake swords made of cardboard, the banner that announces the start of the “cosplay alley” stands out. Law, who has noticed it before than anybody else, sighs. “Bepo… there” he points out, with his E inked index.

Desperate squeaks from Penguin and Shachi accompanies the excitement Bepo shows. The first two, run towards the place. Yet Bepo, stays right by Law’s side. They walk calmly; or at least that’s just Law, because his snowy haired friend seems to be consumed by the flame of anxiety.

“It’s just some guys dressed in weird clothes, Bepo. You are as great as them” Law spits, as if he didn’t understand the meaning of social anxiety.

“I know, Captain… but- you know…” Bepo fidgets his furred gloved hands; the character that he is cosplaying is some kind of hybrid in between a human and a polar bear.

Law looks at him, and reassures him with a soft smirk that’s barely noticeable for the rest of the world… but for his brother? It’s enough to feel encouraged.

The tables where many girls and boys are sitting, are all packed with people taking pictures with them, buying prints of their cosplay photos and some -like Penguin and Shachi- are simping. Some of the women are wearing pretty revealing costumes; other, show amazing props like their proudest treasures.

And the one that Bepo went to meet, was calmly taking some pictures with a red-haired little girl. She was dressed as a princess, or perhaps it was a warrior… no, she must be an angel…

“Captain, there she is! I wanted to take a picture with her since forever!” Bepo fans over the kind looking woman, smiling so sweetly to not so many people around like the rest of the cosplayers.

Law stands right there, getting pushed by many people as they pass and want to take pictures. He is just blinking slowly; never, in a million of years he has lost contact with reality just by looking at a woman… but it was happening, and soon the approaching rest of the “crew” noticed…

…

“Hi! A photo? Of course!” you chimed, happy to be reached by young kids willing to follow your steps in the cosplay career.

As you fleet goodbye the last kid, you notice some young men staring at you. One of them, particularly handsome, covered in tattoos, has a soft pinkish blush taking over his cheeks and seems to be frozen in time with no signs of even blinking whatsoever.

You think if he is ok. But soon you roll your eyes; surely he is watching at any other cosplayer looking bomb as all of them… he is probably another pervert.

Yet, you couldn’t be more wrong.

The white-haired guy by his side gets pushed to your booth by the other friends. He is wearing a cosplay that coincidentally share anime with yours. You smile, he is just timid.

“Hi… (Name). I’m- I am a fan of your work!” he shily says, when reaches your table. You smile, sweetly. This guy has never done anything wrong in his entire life.

You bow your head in gratefulness, standing up to get ready for yet another photo. “Thank you so much! What’s your name?” you ask, chiming and inspecting the amazing details of his costume. It seems made entirely by hand, and it couldn’t be more pretty.

“I’m Bepo!” he kinda screams, taking his hand to his forehead as if he was some kind of military or marine.

It makes you giggle, but soon the moment gets interrupted when the other two of them pull the frozen handsome guy with them to meet you.

“Hi! He is Penguin. And he is Law. Forgive him, I don’t know exactly what happened to his brain, but he wants to take a picture with you” a red-haired man with a funny looking hat says, pointing at the tattooed one.

That might have been the needed slap to wake him up. “NO!” he awkwardly screams, making you laugh.

He takes a look at you from the side, with sharp eyes that are pretty scary to look at. And it is enough to make you stop giggling. “I’m sorry ~” you whisper, looking down almost immediately.

“Captain!” the one that was introduced as Penguin scolds them, and the smile returns to your face. Why are they calling him captain?

“I’m sorry… I- I didn’t mean to scream at you” he stutters, looking now with that same hateful stare at his friend who takes two steps back.

You bite the insides of your mouth. He is way more handsome when he speaks, a raspier voice, low and sensual, that makes you kinda weak.

“Don’t worry. I get I look a little bit intimidating with this costume on!” you joke, taking a huge replica of a sword from the table and showing it to him. It’s almost as tall as he is, with a furry tsuba and golden details on its tsuka.

The man covered in tattoos look at the sword, and then at your eyes. You spend what feels like eternal seconds getting lost in them. He is something special.

Handing him the prop, your fingers delicately graze, and you discover how soft are his. He either never worked in his life or is some kind of surgeon.

He inspects the sword, amazed at the details. Bepo, while he does so, finally takes the picture he wanted to with you. And soon, the encounter has to inevitably come to an end.

All of them wave goodbye to you, but, you aren’t willing to let the man of frozen eyes go without learning his name.

“Bepo! If you post the picture we took together, please, tag me! I will love to follow your Instagram account” you chime, waving back at them. “You are an amazing cosplayer, we should team up someday!”

The white-haired boy has almost a stroke from your words; and you can only hope for his friend to also have an account…

You sit back for some minutes while more people come to your booth, and while you curl a lock of your wig you can stop thinking about him. “What a handsome guy…” you giggle, noticing your cheeks get hot as hell itself.

Sometimes, throughout the day, you take a look around. You wish you could see him again, but unfortunately you can’t get a glimpse of him.

Your thoughts, however, right an hour before the day of the con is over, get interrupted by a guy asking you something.

“Excuse me, I’m a photographer. You can see my portfolio if you scan my QR code. I would like to offer you a photoshoot for free” he kindly says, looking like the respectful man you’ve ever met. Besides, he has something attached to his cheek, something like a sweet? Did he seriously not noticed?

You aren’t fully trustful of him; you know some men, specially in your ambience aren’t exactly the best so you proceed with care.

“I… I really appreciate the offering. I would love to collab with you, but you see it’s been a long day” you try to decline, respectfully. It’s true that you are a little bit tired, but it was the fact that you had went alone to the event this time. Nobody could keep you company during the first day of the convention.

The man insists; he shows the pictures of his work, and they look awesome. “We wont go any further, I think right there will be enough for the pics to look amazing!” he chimes. You think twice, but since he didn’t request for you to go outside or far away you finally accept.

As you start packing up your staff, the photographer offers himself to help you. You are really happy someone is giving you a hand, and you kind of feel guilty for mistrusting him before.

When you crunch to pick up your bag you notice a little charm on the floor; a polar bear plushie lays almost forgotten under the table’s booth. “Oh… someone might have lost it! I will keep it and see if anyone comes back and asks for it” you think, clasping it to your bag.

And soon when you are set to fleet, off both of you go.

Walking through the now almost empty halls, you get some chills running through your spine. Is not the first time you see the con’s alley deserted, but you usually end your day now and go back to your hotel. You shake the feeling and get distracted with the man by your side offering you a something.

“(Name), bet you haven’t got anything to drink in many hours. Please, drink some water. You gotta stay hydrated” he says, with a smile that’s difficult to read. The bottle is closed, so you thankfully accept it.

Once you have finally reached the now solitaire photo set, specially adapted for the convention, you take a big gulp of water. It feels refreshing; you honestly needed it. You were taught to never accept anything edible nor drinkable from the people that come to see you at events, but since it the bottle was clearly new, you didn’t give much importance to the dangers.

When the camera is set, the man calls you to stand and pose in front of him. At first, things went smoothly. But then, everything changed…

“You should lower the cleavage a little” he suggested.

“I…” you stutter, fixing the collar of your dress. Perhaps it was too high and it wasn’t looking good.

“More, honey! You should show a little bit more skin. That will attract more followers!” he insists, pointing the camera towards your chest.

“No. I don’t feel comfortable!” you straightforwardly deny. You want to stop, but you begin to feel your ears buzzing, and the flashing lights of the camera become almost unbearable to look at. You try to look at your sides for help, discovering there is nobody around and the guy coming closer and closer.

The bastard laughs, grabbing your arms and whispering things you can barely understand. “Don’t get all worked up, honey… you shouldn’t drink stuff people give you… now, cooperate with me…”

You try to let go of him, scared of what he could do to you, unable to scream or even kick him away. Yet, there is always a glimpse of hope in everything...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ“Get the fuck away from her!”

continues in ➡ chapter 2

212 notes · View notes

miss-madness67 · 6 months

Text

Cool Cosplay (Dean W.)

Prompt: You go to a Supernatural convention and -unknowingly- meet Dean.

The Supernatural convention is finally here. You’ve been waiting for months for the gathering, supposedly, Carver Edlund, the writer, was going to make an appearance late in the afternoon. The Supernatural books belong to a small niche because not everyone likes them. So when you started reading, you had trouble finding people involved in the fandom as much as you. Meeting new fans became a slow process of writing on the internet forum. That’s how you met one of your best friends, Celeste Middleton.

She seemed very into the books, just like you, although her fanaticism was different because she didn't partake in the discussion of the characters or the narrative, she was mostly interested in learning about the monsters and the ways to kill them. You, on the other hand, couldn't shut up about your love for Castiel, and how much of an underrated character he was. But because you were also interested in the monsters, you became quick friends and met up a couple of times. It was she that told you about the supernatural convention. You also agreed to go together and dress up as your favorite characters. You, obviously put on a trench coat, and she decided to be Charlie, the redheaded tech friend of the hunter brothers.

“Even if you’re a redhead, I still don’t think you quite fit as Charlie.” You tell her while walking through the stands.

One of the sellers has a collection of Castiel stickers that you stop to watch. The best thing about this type of convention is that everyone in the fandom can bring their own things to share and sell. If the fandom were bigger, that probably wouldn't be allowed.

“Really?” Celeste asks with incredulity. “I’m a hacker; she’s a hacker, I’m gay; she’s gay, I’m a badass; she’s a badass. What’s more to compare?”

“Celeste, there’s more to Charlie than being gay, you know?”

She chuckles, “oh, believe me, I know.” She murmurs.

You’re about to answer something when one of the nearby stands calls your attention. It’s one of the writers whose fanfic you’ve been reading. “C’mon, let’s go over here.” She follows without hesitation.

While you decide to buy one of the copies of your favorite fanfiction, your friend’s checking something on her phone. “So, you remember the friends I told you about?”

You think briefly, “the ones that were curious about the convention and wanted to come?”

“The same ones!” She announces, “they just got here, wait for me while I go get them?”

You're way too interested in your new acquisition, to really pay attention to her words. “Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Celeste told you about some friends that she had that weren't supernatural fans, but wanted to get to know the fandom and the surrounding fame. You're not sure whether there's anything interesting to learn considering they haven’t read the books, but you’ll be the best tour guide you can be. Your friend comes back shortly after, followed by two tall guys that are dressed up in a way that reminds you, probably too much, of certain characters in the books.

“I thought you said they weren’t fans?” You ask Celeste.

The one dressed up as Dean chuckles, “oh, we’re not, sweetheart, believe me.”

You look at him with incredulity, “well, then, why are you dressed up as Dean, and your friend here as Sam?”

The Sam cosplayer shifts uncomfortably under your scrutiny. The Dean cosplayer, though, is quick to answer, “because we are Sam and Dean.”

The encounter is proving to be way too funny. You look back at Celeste, “and they role-play too?” In spite of being dressed as Castiel, you’ve never been too much of a role player, so it amuses you that some non-fans are very into the characters. Even fake Dean’s voice is how you imagined real Dean’s voice would be like.

Sam throws an annoyed glance at Dean . “What my ah- friend here is trying to say is that our names are actually Sam and Dean, and Cha- Celeste convinced us to come as the characters in the books.” There’s something in his words that doesn’t quite persuade you.

“I see,” you murmur, “you did a great job!” Your wary demeanor instantly shifts to a friendly one. “You really do look like Sam and Dean.”

Celeste chooses that moment to finally speak, “and I don’t look like Charlie?!” There’s incredulity and exasperation in her tone.

Because you already had this discussion multiple times in the day, you decide to ignore her. Looking at Dean, you add, “though you need the Samulet, did you forget to put it on?” You pull something out of your trench coat pocket, “here, I’ll give you mine.” Technically, your costume didn’t need the jewelry, but you decided to keep it for some reason.

You extend your arm and give it to Dean, who takes it reluctantly. “Oh, thanks? But I’m good.” He tries to give it back.

“No, I insist. If you’re going to do cosplay, you’re going to do it good.” At your insistence, he takes it.

Celeste smiles mischievously. “Yes, my friend right here is a very good fan of Supernatural.” She looks up and down your outfit, “guess who her favorite character is.”

You don’t even let the boys speak, “obviously Castiel.” As if there’s any contest with the rest of the characters. “After all, he’s an Angel of the Lord .” Your imitation is too bad that Sam and Charlie can’t avoid laughing.

Dean chuckles, “so, you’re not a Dean girl?” You’re not sure, but there’s something in his voice akin to disappointment.

“Dean is ok, but there’s no one like Castiel.” You clear your throat, trying to contain the excitement when speaking of your favorite character. “I mean, he’s sweet, powerful, understanding…”

“Cas? Really?” Now he’s almost indignant, “and Dean is definitely more than ok.”

Now, normally, you’re a pacifist, but you’re not going to let this rando talk bad about your fictional love. “How would you know? Considering that you’ve never read the books before.”

There’s a hint of condescension in his voice, “oh, honey, I know, I-.”

But before he can say anything else, Sam interrupts. “So! Why don’t you girls show us around?”

Dean seems to be completely annoyed by being interrupted, but he doesn’t complain when his friend Sam tugs him forward. At this point, a lot more people have arrived at the convention. The fans of Supernatural are not enough to be a crowd, but not as small as to allow you to recognize everyone. Your group is not the only one dressed up as the characters. You mostly see Deans and Sams lingering around, but there are also some Bobbys, Johns, Castiels, and even famous monsters like the walling woman. Sam and Dean (the ones in your group) take everything in with open eyes, and, sometimes, uncomfortable gazes. You and Celeste show them to the different stands, there are merchandise, game tables, fanfiction tables, fanart artists, and discussion tables. There’s anything and everything to make the Supernatural experience enjoyable. You can even see a fake tattoo artist draw a devil’s trap, in, well, a fake Meg.

“Oh, and the author, Carver Edlund, is supposed to be giving a conference and signing,” you finish your tour.

This last bit is what interests the boys the most, “really? Do you know when?”

“Uh, I don’t know. I suppose in a few hours,” you answer Sam’s question.

If he is disappointed by your lack of knowledge, you don't notice because you're too busy now looking at a stand full of drawing of different supernatural characters. It doesn't take you long to buy what you want, though, by the time you turn around, you see that all of your companions are chatting in whispers a few steps away. They seem to be in a heated discussion, so you don't dare to go near them. Whatever they're talking about must be private. Nevertheless, on some occasions, you catch them looking your way and then continue speaking. Are they talking about you? Out of the blue, Dean and Sam start a game of rock, paper, and scissors. Dean wins and cheers in place as if it’s something that doesn’t happen often. Before you can even try to make up your mind to approach them, Celeste and Sam walk away, while Dean returns to you.

“What happened? Where are Celeste and Sam going?”

Dean answers without hesitation, “they're taking care of something, don't worry. Why don’t you keep showing me around? They'll be back in a bit.”

Despite the fact that you are still worried about the sudden turn of events, you decide to listen to him and venture to some of the stands with Dean's company. He seems to be very on high alert because he keeps looking everywhere like something is about to jump from the crowd. He also looks at the “monsters” with a particularly nasty frown on his face that earns him some compliments for being very ‘Dean’. The demeanor, though, appears too real to be fake. You try and encourage him to buy a few things while he waits you wait for your friends to return, but he really is not interested. You even suggest playing a game, but he refuses. The only thing he seems to be remotely curious about is a particular stand on Supernatural creatures the brothers have defeated. You try to be a good guide by letting him in on your knowledge about the supernatural.

“And you learned all of this from the books?” He is really surprised by all the things that you've told him, even to the point of slightly forgetting about keeping his guard up.

“Some, other things I’ve researched on my own or Celeste told me.” Your hand caresses one of the books’ covers with a vampire. “I know it’s not real, but it’s fascinating to know.”

Then you dive into a full-on explanation about the different, fictional, possible ways one can get rid of certain monsters that you come up with. Things that supernatural books and your research don’t quite show that you think could work as an alternative to certain methods. You jokingly tell him that sometimes your mind wanders into the possibility of the supernatural being real, and you cannot help to think about it. Dean seems deeply impressed, and then something else.

“You know? You’d make one hell of a hunter,” he nods approvingly.

“IF hunters were real,” you respond instantly.

He chuckles, “sure, sure, if they were.”

You continue through the convention for half an hour, this time he seems to be more taken by you than before, because, despite that he’s still on guard, he makes conversation about yourself and your interest in The Supernatural books. He even tries to convince you that the best character is not Cas, but Dean. You believe that he is biased, considering that his name is the same one as the one from the character. Sometimes you notice the way his eyes look at your figure, and you cannot find it in yourself to feel angry. More like there's a small part of you that cannot help to gloat at the feeling of a handsome man finding you attractive. Though, you believe it must have to do also with the fact that, for some reason, besides his name, your mind cannot seem to stop pairing him up with Dean from the books. You’ve never been a Dean girl, but you’re starting to think you could maybe make an exception. He has something that draws you in. Whatever it is, you’re a goner because, by the time Celeste and Sam come back, they find you entangled in each other’s arms, kissing near the restroom’s door.

A/N: For plot’s sake, let’s imagine Charlie is in the Supernatural books. Also, if reader is dressed up as Castiel, does this count as Destiel?

#supernatural #fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #spn #dean winchester #spn fanfic #dean winchester x reader #spn x reader #destiel #destiel x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean #supernatural convention #cosplay #sam winchester #charlie bradbury #dean girl #dean winchester x you

79 notes · View notes