#AND THREE OF THEM DON'T EVEN HAVE CANON PICTURES :SOB:.

[kaleschmidt]

[txtmetonight]

Unrequited love

call summary ⋆ ★ Small head canons of unrequited love

pairing *. * Hyung Line x Fem! Reader

genre⋆ ★ Angst, slight fluff, head canons with storylines

warnings *. * Toxic Relationship, Implied cheating, Hanahaki Disease (blood, throwing up flowers), breakdowns, bad grammar

call duration⋆ ★ 1.2k

a/n*. *  been in my drafts for soooo long, but whatever. Hope you enjoy!

taglist ⋆ ★  @kflixnet

part 2

Heeseung˚ �� • . ° . fall out

✭ Heeseung was the love of your life, he was your first love, your first kiss, the first person you woke up in the morning next to

✭ He fell first but you fell harder, and god you're not sure if you regret it or not

✭ You were probably his classmate in middle school, someone who just sat next to him in some of his classes, and at first, you didn't really catch his eye

✭ And though you don't really remember your first official encounter with him he definitely did

✭ You gave him your umbrella after a long day of school, telling him to keep it with a small smile on your face as your parents come by to pick you up

✭ He swore that the exact moment replayed like an old videotape in his mind, in his dreams, and how giddy it made him feel, how lucky he was to have a girl like you

✭ Warm kisses, soft cuddles, loving gifts, cringe- worthy photos and his hand always tucked in the back pocket of your jeans

✭ You wonder what happened

✭ Though being together forever started with a promise ring, the heart-wrenching changes started gradually to your dismay

✭ He first started to blow you off from your weekly dates, coming up with some random ass excuse

✭ Then he proceeded to spend his time with his friends rather than with you... and somehow by coincidence, there was always the new girl in every single picture he took from his "hangouts"

✭ It didn't really take that long for them to start texting, each text they sent sending your stomach in a gut-twisting sob

✭ Fuck, you really should've seen it coming and it didn't help that Heeseung practically spelled it out for you

✭ Because the next thing you know, Heeseung was placing his flirty touches all over her, he was playing with her hair, her fingers, and then her lips before slipping his hand into hers, taking her to the next room over

✭ While you watch silently with a broken heart and burning tears

Jay ˚ · • . ° . childhood best friends

✭ You two were best friends due to your mothers being childhood friends themselves

✭ Which meant that you've known Jay your whole life

✭ The first time you've acknowledged your long-lasting crush on him was when he carried you home after a nasty wound had made you immobile in your legs and he cried and cried to make you feel better before deciding to suck it up and piggyback you the nearest hospital

✭ You've watched him grow up, and you were scared, so scared because it was only you and Jay, no one else and you didn't want that to change

✭ So maybe introducing a new friend to him wasn't the best idea

✭ Because soon enough, Jay and (Y/n)'s movie night became Jay, (Y/n) and your friend's movie night

✭ A two-person study date turned into three inside jokes that you've both known for a decade, ones you swore to never share with others...

✭ Well surprise she knew them too

✭ And you couldn't even do anything...you loved them too much

✭You would rather have your heart stabbed over a hundred times than ruin your friendship with your best friend, the love of your life

✭ So it was no shocker when you agreed to help Jay out when he came running up to you in a panic, questioning what he should do to court your best friend

✭ Only for her to ask the same thing that night unaware of the silent heartbreak you were going through

Jake · • . ° . hanahaki

✭ The sweet boy who bothered you every morning with tooth-rotting smiles

✭ Quickly became your seat mate and then your partner for some physics project and then your friend

✭ Somewhere in that whole process, you fell for him–hard

✭ So so hard that it sometimes hurt too much to breathe, because he was just so handsome and kind and everything in between

✭ You were actually planning to keep your crush to yourself and you were extremely content with that plan at first

✭ And to be honest, you two were already acting like a couple

✭ Holding hands, snuggling up while watching a movie, late-night talks, small pecks to the forehead

✭ You weren't really threatened at all–until you saw him flirting with the girl next to him in English

✭ So that's when you decided that you were going to ask him out, and he surely was going to say yes right?

✭ Wrong because the next thing you know, you're being rejected by a sheepish smile, eyes flickering towards the flowers that were starting to wilt in your hand, mimicking your mood

✭ Guess that you underestimated your love for him

✭ Because you're suddenly throwing up flowers and blood in the school bathroom, choking on the thorns that drag up your throat with each painful lurch

✭ Blood drips down your lips and you're not sure what to do with yourself anymore

✭ Your heart wails from agony and your lungs scream at you to stop

✭ But you can't just stop loving Jake, because he was still oh so fucking, stupidly dear to you, and you being dumb enough, you choose to remain as close friends

✭ Yet as the world spins, and you watch him grow more in love with that English major girl, you wonder if your adoration for him was worth more than your life...

Sunghoon · • . ° . fake dating

✭ You were always a mess–you think

✭ So that's why you said yes, to Sunghoon's proposal right a week or two after you had just broken up with

✭ And honestly, it didn't seem too bad then, you both wanted another person jealous, he wanted his crush to notice him and you wanted your ex back...kinda

✭ But you didn't expect that the cold prince was so heart-thawing, so sweet and kind

✭ He always tended to your every need, always asked for consent before anything with you

✭ And in the weakness of getting over your ex, your beating organ sought out him, and he easily returned it...or rather pretended to

✭ With his lips on yours, you felt a sense of blissfulness you haven't felt in a while and with his hand holding yours, you don't want this dream to end

✭ Your brain started to warp up the lines between pretend and real, but Sunghoon was always grounded in reality, because his eyes always imagined her when he was with you, and that's why you think he blinked a little longer than usual, with you by his side

✭ But you're always brought back with a slap when Sunghoon cuts through the act, immediately stopping when the actual light of his eye is gone, always laughing with you about it, yet still holding that longing look in his eyes

✭ He was too blind to notice your relentless yearning, or maybe he did and he ignored it...you're not very sure

✭ And finally, the dreaded day comes, and he breaks the news to you after another ice skating date, over some hot fries and a shared strawberry milkshake

✭ "She told me that she liked me..." He hums to you, still feeding you a fry, and it takes everything in you to not break down crying, nodding at his words

✭ "We can break up now..not that we were ever actually dating in the first place!" He chuckles, and over his loud laughter, he doesn't notice the tears you let out, or the choked sobs you cage

✭ You're a fucking disaster

[ishouldbedoinghw]

You Can't Erase Me

One Piece fanfic, part 3

Previous parts are in my pinned masterlist.

A woman enslaved by the celestial dragons is found by a man with red hair. Angst ensues.

A/N: This story will follow the canon loosely; some events will stay the same, others will be edited for the plot. The timing of events will also be slightly edited from canon so that certain characters are included. The main character is an OC of mine and in her mid-20s. Yes this is important. Character design will likely come soon.

TW: slavery, human trafficking, vomit, mentions of attempted sexual abuse, traumatic flashbacks, discussion of trauma, general angst

---------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing I remember next is vomit. There's acid pouring out of my mouth and sweat covering my body, and I'm emptying my stomach again and again and again until I don't think I even have bones anymore.

I'm hunched over, gripping the sides of a bucket so hard my knuckles turn white and my fingertips bleed. My clothing sticks to my body, and my mouth is writhing with the taste of vomit and bitter salt. My right hand reaches under me, trying to find some stability and trace the seven grooves in the floor. I can't feel them. The floor beneath me isn't the smooth wood I'm accustomed to, but a bumpy, moist texture that makes me want to vomit again.

Where am I what am I doing why am I sick what's happened-

A hand gingerly touches my back, and a white-hot pain tears through my body, making me scream. The hand quickly withdraws, taking the pain with it. At first, I think it might be the honey-man, then nausea rolls through me again as I picture the not-boy's hands touching me again, and I'm gagging over the bucket.

"It- it's alright, I won't touch you again," says a voice behind me, and I want to whirl around and put space between me and whoever is calling out to me, but the most my body will do is heave itself around slowly. My limbs feel heavy, and my head is pounding with the movement, and I catch a glimpse of dark blonde hair before I let out a choked sob that I don't quite understand. I spent my life serving the not-boy, why do I now want to scream at the thought of him being here?

Despite my mind's screaming protests, the blonde hair moves closer to me, and the blurred figure becomes a face. I relax slightly - it isn't him.

But I can't convince myself that I'm okay. I can't remember ever seeing anyone that looked like this man, he was never someone that came into the not-boy's room. He wasn't the honey-man, and I'd never heard his voice even murmuring in the hallways or through the walls.

"My name is Hongo," he speaks again, gesturing toward himself. "I'm a doctor, I'm here to make sure you're okay, and I'm not going to hurt you."

A doctor?

I stay silent, and he speaks again.

"What's your name?"

My mouth is sticky and unyielding as I try to open it. He looks at me, not speaking.

Is he just waiting for me to say something?

He's sitting cross-legged across from me, and I feel very... studied under his gaze. There's a scar creeping from his hairline, and most of his dirty blonde hair is pulled into a ponytail near the top of his head, the rest shaved from the top of his ear down. He's clearly older, but he moves with the energy of a much younger man, still full of life.

My tongue loosens, and I finally say, "They call me Cheeper."

He smiles at me then, all teeth that splits his face in two. He's missing a couple of teeth on one side, and I find myself staring at the gaps.

"But is that your name?" he presses further.

I really didn't think it was, the longer I thought about it. I think at one point I'd been something else, but I'd been Cheeper for so long that it was really the only name I associated myself with.

"No," I said finally, shifting my gaze from him to the floor.

"Do you have a name?"

Why does he care so much?

"I don't know," I shrug and start picking at the floor, somewhat missing the familiar one, two, three, four, five, six, seven grooves again. My body was still uncomfortably sticky, and my fingers left little semi-transparent smears as I traced shapes in the floor. The more I move my hands, the more I notice them shaking.

Hongo's hand starts reaching toward me again, and I find myself shuffling away before my back hits the wall behind me, and that burning pain shoots through me again. I let out a choked sob at the sensation, and he snatches his hand back, looking a bit sheepish.

"Is it okay if I touch you? Sorry I didn't ask before, I'm used to- well, different kinds of patients."

I wasn't sure what he meant by that, and I didn't ask. I just force myself to nod, closing my eyes and bracing myself for the pain from earlier.

Hongo's POV

"It would be better if you opened your eyes for this, might help you keep calm if you can see what I'm doin'," I say, reaching for a pair of thin gloves from on top of the table to my right.

She warily opens her eyes again, but doesn't relax an ounce, even at the sight of the gloves. She almost reminds me of a deer, with the way her spindly limbs tremble and how she looks at me with wide, terrified eyes.

"How about you just watch what I'm doing, you can tell me to stop anytime," I say as gently as I can, showing her my hands.

Her pale lips twitch, and her eyes are watery at she looks away, clearly fighting with herself. I wait, moving my hands to now fold them in my lap.

"I-" she finally says, her voice barely audible. "I don't want it to hurt again."

I shift closer to where she's cowered in the corner as subtly as I can, holding my arm out.

"Look," I say softly, "Touch my arm."

She doesn't move, so I continue:

"I think you have some injury on your back that's causing that pain. I won't touch you there if you don't want, but I need to see what other injuries you have if you don't wanna get more sick."

She looks at me again, tears spilling down her face as she says, "Okay."

I grab her wrist as gingerly as I can, and she visibly flinches as I press her fingertips to my arm.

"See?" I say, giving her what I hope is a comforting smile. She doesn't shy away as I release her wrist, so I take that as permission to continue.

She watches me with wide eyes as I check over her exposed skin. She's ghastly pale, and extremely dehydrated - to be expected from someone who was just fished out of the ocean and promptly puked everywhere. Her skin is raw and bruising around her neck, but nothing too serious as far as I can tell.

Lean back away from her, I start chewing on the inside of my cheek as I figure out what to say next. I don't want to push her, especially considering I'm a man she doesn't know, but I'm worried about the pain in her back.

I let out a sigh, and say "Listen, I know you're scared, and you don't want me to touch your back, but I need to see what's wrong so I can help."

"Do you promise you're going to help?" Her voice is barely a whisper, but I can't help but be thrilled that she's cooperated thus far. I stand, holding my hand out to her. She stares at it for a moment before putting both of her hands in mine, gripping both sides of my palm as I help lift her to her feet. She doesn't let go, and her legs tremble beneath her as her grip on my hand tightens.

Can she even stand on her own?

I start chewing the inside of my cheek again as I take just how truly tiny she really is. I can't even tell how old she is, she's all bones and pale skin, and my stomach clenches as I take in how malnourished she seems to be. I let her lean on me as I lead her to the bed on the other side of the room. As I gently guide her to sit down, her arm shoots down to stabilize herself on the stiff mattress. I almost turn back around to grab the puke bucket again as I watch her head hang and her breath quicken, but she looks up at me again after a minute, waiting for me to start.

"I promise that I'm here to help, but I can't promise this is going to be painless."

Her throat bobs, and for a moment I'm afraid she'll refuse my help, but she nods her head. I let out a sigh of relief, and start checking her vitals, saving the inspection of her back for last. I start mumbling what I'm doing once I touch her, hoping to offer some form of comfort.

Finally, I let out a puff of air and stand to full height, my knees cracking a bit as I did so.

"Alright, girlie, I need to lift your shirt up to see what's going on there, okay? I'm just gonna push it up over your shoulders, and it'll stay covering your front."

She just nodded once, and hunched over a bit more. The corner of my mouth twitches at her attempt to help. I had no idea where the poor girl came from, or how she'd ended up with some mermaid, especially so far from Fishman Island. Hell, even she didn't know. As I sat down next to her and gingerly started lifting the hem of her ratty shirt, I tried wracking my brain to figure out how a person couldn't even remember their own damn name.

A sour smell hit me as I slowly pushed her shirt up to her shoulders, and I could see raw, festering skin underneath. Bile rose into my throat, and my breathing grew unsteady as I saw the full state of her back. There, settling an infection deep into this girl's back, was the brand of the Celestial Dragons.

And it all made sense. The raw skin and bruising around her throat, the lack of any nourishment, right down to her lack of spirit-

My hand started shaking as my gaze traveled down to the exposed skin of her hips, littered in bruises. My breathing grew labored, and I had to clench my fist to keep myself from pulling her into my chest and telling her it would be alright, she was safe, and that she was far away from whatever sick bastards had done this to her.

But I couldn't scare her. I'm not even sure she was aware of anything that had really happened to her, and I sure as hell didn't know how to tell her.

I knelt in front of her so that I was at her eye level, and steadied my breathing.

"Well, girlie, you've got a nasty burn that looks infected. It's gonna hurt like a bitch, but I've gotta clean it and treat it or it'll get a lot worse."

To be honest, I wasn't sure how that infection hadn't killed her already. If she couldn't even remember where she came from, and she didn't even know what was on her own body, I can't even imagine how long she'd been under their control.

"Girlie," I started softly, "Do you know where you got all this?"

She looks at me, and shifts on the bed to run a trembling hand through her hair. It looks like a deep maroon or magenta, and seems to have been buzzed fairly recently.

"I don't know. I-"

She was cut off with a sharp knock on the door. I wanted to groan, knowing exactly who it was interrupting me. The door swings open, and there he stands - my captain, Red-Hair Shanks.

[freyrmichokolatte]

Timmy forgor arc because I'm a fucked up little shit and I want my fave to suffer because that's how I am smh

Timmy canonically puts notes on everything that's important to him because he might throw everything related to Cosmo and Wanda so it shouldn't be any different that he'll put notes on everything related to the rest of the Nicktoons

But what if he also writes everything that happened in a diary and kept it hidden in a box filled with things related to his Godfamily and the Nicktoons?

Timmy already turned 18 and the next day after his birthday, the first thing he saw when he woke up is an empty fish tank still filled with water. Timmy got super confused because why is there a fish tank here? Why does it have water when there's literally no fish inside? Then he saw the sticky note and went oh ok I guest I shouldn't throw it out then.

Throughout the day, he keeps seeing sticky notes with his hand writing on it saying "Don't throw it out me! -Timmy Turner". Timmy doesn't know the purpose of all the things because he only does this when it's actually important so he doesn't understand why there's a sticky note with the same message pinned on his old hat.

When he, Chester, and AJ hangout, they'd sometimes ask him about the things he forgotten and Timmy is just confused. His reaction are just "What?" "Since when did that happen?" "Talking to objects? Did you hit your head or something cause wtf" Chester and AJ had to suffer but didn't dive too deep into it.

That until Chester mentioned Jimmy

Timmy isn't the type to forget people that he's close and actually liked him. So when Timmy said he doesn't know who Jimmy is it caused a havoc. Chester made cards filled with things related to their childhood while AJ interogated the poor brunet's head off just to get answers so he could somehow cure his bestfriend's amnesia.

This went for Gods' know how long it just keeps going.

But hey the Nicktoons fianlly visited hoorayyyy

They didn't encounter Timmy first though, they encountered Chester and AJ. They both felt like their dreaming but soon dragged them into their shared appartment with Timmy because wtf their bestfriend's bestfriends who doesn't even know they're his bestfriends from different universes are here and oh are they glad.

Before the Nicktoons could even say something, AJ and Chester already bombered them with concerns relating to Timmy while the three are all just there sitting on a small couch and saying literally the same things as if they were one person.

Where's Timmy? What happened to his Fairy programs? What do you mean he has amnesia? He doesn't remember us? What the fuck does this mean? Is this related to the Fairy World's rules?

They were all distraught. Spongebob who's no longer in disguise is sobbing. Danny is in denial. He sees him as his kid brother and said kid brother sees him as his big brother there's no way he could've forgotten him right? He denise it, there's no way.

And Jimmy is fucking depressed. After a long time of trying to find a way to go to Timmy's universe, the first thing that was said to him was that Timmy forgot about them.

Jimmy was mad. He wasn't mad at Timmy for getting his memories erased, he was mad that he didn't do anything to prevent it. He was mad at himself. But he knew damn well that there's no way of stopping Da Rules and the rest of the Laws of the Fairy World.

Meanwhile with Timmy, he sneezed as he's currently going back to his old house to get the rest of his old stuff. Then he went to the attic and saw some weird big old box with his name written on it. The box was filled with notebooks, diaries and pictures.

Timmy was utterly bamboozled

He skimmed through some of the pages. Fairies? Ghost brother figure? A talking sponge? And he's hooked? Timmy doesn't even know anymore. Then he took the photos inside the box.

What the fuck.

Why is there a sponge? It's alive? Why is there a floating guy behind him? Who's he brunet with a weird hair style?

And why do these strangers feel so familiar?

The more he dives deep into it, the more his head hurts. Timmy decided to brush it off temporarily and took the box with him. He'll get his stuff next time.

ANYWAY the rest is up to you guys on how you want it to end I'm out of energy to write the rest ksksakjssfhasksf

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Halt & Catch Fire: Part Three

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: You're done being a puppet in their plans. You're done letting them control you. You're finally going to take back your life by becoming something you didn't know was possible. your eyes are opened to something better and God forbid anyone who disrespects you.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

"Are we going to pretend that I didn't hear what she said back there?" Dean says.

He follows you outside so that you two can have some kind of privacy.

"What she said?" you ask, trying to play dumb when you know it's not going to work.

"Y/N don't fuck with me. Leah wouldn't have said that if it wasn't true. Is it true? Were you pregnant?"

There's no point in hiding it now.

"I wanted you to hear it from me," you cry. "I found out a couple of weeks ago. I made Castiel get rid of it."

"You did what?" he says in a low and dark tone. 

That means he is beyond pissed.

"We agreed to not raise a child in this life, Dean. I thought this is what we both wanted!"

"You didn't think to tell me any of this?" he finally yells. "Did you even care what I want?"

"Of course, Dean, but we talked about it! How can we raise a child in this life together right now? With Lucifer? Michael? Amara? The apocalypse?"

"It doesn't matter what we discussed, Y/N! You got pregnant and you killed it! Without even thinking of me! What, did you think I was never going to find out? Does Sam know?"

"Yes," you whisper.

"Oh great, everyone knew but me. I'm so glad you decided to hide this from me. You're supposed to be my family, Y/N!"

"Dean, I am. This decision has been eating me alive. I panicked. I didn't know what to do."

"Not killing the baby would have been step one! That was my child!" he screams.

"Dean, please, I'm so sorry," you cry.

"Leave me alone," he shakes his head.

"Dean, please stay, and let's talk about this."

"I can't even look at you right now," he gets into his car angrily. 

He starts her up and peels out of the parking lot in a screech of tires. Your whole world comes crashing down around you, and your knees buckle from the weight. Arms wrap around your body to keep you from falling, and you turn in his arms to bury your head in Sam's chest.

"He hates me," you sob.

"You know, I had another dream of Amara," you say shakily.

You're trying really hard not to cry right now.

"Oh yeah? What about?"

"She told me that our daughter is going to be a witch." You clear your throat noisily. "She said that she doesn't know when our daughter will get her powers because it's different for everyone, I guess. It took me until I was twenty-six to discover mine, so hers can be at any age."

"Well, she'll have a great teacher to learn from," he chuckles.

Tears build up in your eyes, and only two of them fall before you sniffle, signaling to Dean that you are crying.

"I just want to say something," your voice cracks. "My due date is in a month, and I don't know where we stand or if we will get better, but just know that I'm okay. I'll be fine. We can raise her together because she deserves both of her parents in her life, and I don't want to take that away from her."

You're full-on crying now, and it's the kind of crying that breaks Dean's heart. You want to be fine but he knows you aren't, and that is what breaks his heart.

"I don't want to start anything, but as long as Lisa is in the picture, then we can't be anything more than parents." You pause to try and calm yourself but it doesn't work. "I miss you, Dean, like a lot, but I can't make you choose between Lisa--I won't. I just hope you make the right decision here because this is getting to be too damn hard for me."

He really misses you too, and he thinks it's time to have the talk with Lisa. There is something that is keeping him tied to you, and he needs to man up and do something about it or else you will be gone forever. 

However, that's the thing... he knows you won't. He's not being fair to you, and he has to man up before you realize that you don't actually need him in your life. The day you realize that is the day his world will stop.

"Y/N Singer and Dean Winchester come together today to join in marriage. I'll keep this short. I hear you two are saying your own vows?"

"Yes," you grin.

The minister backs away slightly, giving you the floor.

"I fell in love with you at age fourteen when we were on a hunt and I got hurt badly. You took care of me, and I suddenly couldn't picture a future without you in it. Even at fourteen, I knew that one day I'd be marrying you and having your children. There have been low-lows, but they don't matter anymore because I have you and you have me. I can hunt for the rest of my life, but the real adventure is getting to be your wife. I don't know what the future holds for us, but I know we're going to do it together."

You can see tears in his eyes at your words.

"I was never a kid. I never stopped to think about what I was going to do the week after or even a month after. I always thought about the here and now because I couldn't afford to think about anything else. Then you came along, and I allowed myself to care about what I wore, what I said, and how it affected you. You've always been there for me even when I didn't see it, and for that, I love you so much. You gave me everything I stopped believing in. You gave me Joanna and your love and a future. Suddenly, my future doesn't look as bloody as it was before. I still have a long way to go and a lot to learn, but it's going to be easier with you by my side for the rest of my life."

You're crying from the impact of his words. You grab Dean's hand and try to stop the tears from falling.

"Do you, Dean Winchester, take Y/N Singer to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," he says.

He takes your engagement ring and slides it onto your left ring finger, and you admire how it shines brightly as if it were meant to be there.

"Do you, Y/N Singer, take Dean Winchester to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do," you sniffle.

You take out John Winchester's wedding ring and slide it onto Dean's left ring finger.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Dean pulls you in by your waist, and you meet him halfway. Your lips mold together, fitting perfectly together.

Dean finally managed to get to your room after calming down. Joanna is still with the social worker because he does not want her to see you after you get the news you will never hold your son. You're just waking up from surgery and notice Dean closes the door right behind him.

"Hey, what happened?" you panic slightly.

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired, but okay. What happened?"

"You fell and hit your head on the side of the laundry machine. Sweetheart, you had a brain bleed. You were taken into surgery, and you're going to be just fine. Your magic healed you of the injury, and they expect you to go home in a few days."

As he is explaining, you're looking around the room in confusion. Your hand immediately goes to your stomach, and you gasp when you don't feel your children inside.

"Where's our kids? Joanna?"

"Joanna is with a social worker. She is just fine. Maryann--"

"Please tell me our baby girl's okay," you whimper.

"She is in the NICU right now. She is on a ventilator, so they're going to keep her here for two months. They want to monitor her progress, but the doctor says that she's very healthy for her age. She's going to be okay."

"And our son?" A fresh wave of tears comes for Dean, and the second you see the water in his eyes, you shake your head in denial. "No. Do not tell me anything but he's okay. Please, Dean, tell me our son is okay."

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

His words flow out of his mouth but you're not hearing what he has to say. After letting it sink in that you're never going to hold him and make memories with him, you tip your head back and just sob. Dean scoots closer to your bed and grabs your hand, leaning in to hold you close.

"Tell me what you're thinking."

You grab the soap and run it along his body, getting every inch available to you. You run the washcloth over his right arm and he flinches when it touches the Mark.

"This power... makes me nervous. I'm so fucking scared that it's going to consume me. I've always been an angry guy but this is different. It's like it's amplifying that part of me. I'm trying so fucking hard not to let it affect you and the kids, but I don't know how much longer I'll be able to control it. I'm scared I'll end up hurting you or the kids."

"I'm scared, too. When I touched the First Blade for the first time, it was like my whole body was consumed by my magic. It felt like a dark part of me opened up at that moment. I didn't like how it felt."

"You know, when you touched the blade, I saw red. I don't know if it was all in my mind, but your magic turned red for a split second."

"That's what I'm talking about. That power was dark and chaotic and messy and it scared me. I'm terrified that harnessing that kind of power is gonna get someone killed."

"We'll get through this together."

"Yeah, I know we will. I love you."

"I love you."

If Dean wasn't in a library full of students, he would be crying. You two have been through so much together and you're throwing it all down the drain. For what? How can he save you after all this? What's going to happen when you get your soul and remember what you've done to him? Will you two ever catch a fucking break?"

"Dean," Sam says and shakes his shoulder.

Dean peels his eyes away from you and notices Janet is gone.

"Sorry," Dean whispers.

The junkyard is where you three are headed next. Joey's car is inside the junkyard waiting to be broken down for parts. It hasn't yet which is a good thing because it can be burned. Sam and Dean walk ahead of you so you pick at the device in your neck without them noticing.

You know the life you and Dean have shared together. You know what you've meant to him but you couldn't care less about it. All emotional ties to Dean have been severed. He keeps acting like you're going to wake up one day and all those feelings are going to come rushing back. Guess what? They're not. They're gone as long as you don't have a soul. If and when you get reunited with your soul, what's going to happen when you start to remember all the horrible things you've done? Think Dean is going to be enough to bring you back?

You guess you'll see when you cross that bridge.

"Alright, so we're looking for something that used to resemble a pickup truck," Sam says. He shines his flashlight at the different cars before coming to one that has the license plate SEMPERF on it. "Here it is."

On the front seat is this icky gooey substance you're sure is not oil.

"I'm guessing that ain't oil," you say.

"It's ectoplasm."

Sam takes out his EMF reader and watches as it lights up like a Christmas tree.

"Look at this. Joey?"

"Looks like it. So, big brother didn't get along with little brother and was pissed that he was driving his baby. I get it."

"What are you saying? If you died and I drove your car, you'd kill me?"

"If you stunk her up with taquitos, probably. Alright, let's do this."

Sam and Dean perform the usual: Salt, kerosene, and a lighter. You stay for a bit to get warm by the truck fire before leaving with the brothers. Hunt solved, right?

Wrong.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[akaikami-cherryblossom]

Okay NOW I can send an ask OSJDKLFNS 3, 4, 18, and 23 for sakuya please <3

I'm gonna cry I didn't even close asks manually WHY. Anyway ty Taru wawawawawa

Character ask game!

(Big yapping below the cut)

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

God. Just the way he's written sometimes pisses me off. I feel like they couldn't decide what they wanted in a poster boy, and created some sort of amalgamation of genki poster boy and a really fleshed-out and three dimensional character, and more often than not they revert back to the former. I like when they do sprinkle in those issues with his self-worth and expressing his emotions, but I wish it wasn't something that's so rarely explored on a deeper level more than "oh haha he feels like he doesn't deserve stuff" and I wanna look at how that applies to things like the people around him. I can count on one hand the amount of times Saku has gotten genuinely angry about something in canon. I want to see him burst, and I want to know what would trigger that in him!! Yeag.

ALSO. I'd like to argue that Man.kai Stage Saku does a better job of exploring this in the way that he plays him, but also just. As a person??? Like at the end of the first show's run back in 2018 he sobbed and thanked the audience for everything and was like "no, I don't need it" and like. Fuck man. Is that not him in a nutshell??? Or like!! In Spring 2019's show the way his face lit up in surprise when they received a standing ovation because he really wasn't expecting it??? On the closing night of the first Four Seasons show where he couldn't get his lines about thanking the directors out because he was sobbing so hard and the other A3!ders helped comfort him in order to go on with the show?? I'm well aware that this is just Ryuu.gi being Ryuu.gi but I feel like that's exactly what I'd like to see more of in Saku. I'm normal about Man.kai Stage btw.

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

Bro's been in everything... game, stageplay, movie, light novel, manga, anime, card game, fuck like. I guess rhythm game. I want an A.3! rhythm game so bad dude.

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

I like Banri and Sakuya man. Doesn't even have to be romantic. Maybe I'd prefer if it wasn't romantic wwww. Anyway, I love the way they inspire each other and develop the other's passion!! That, and I'd love to see an even one day where Banri gets to direct the troupe on his own, or just directs Saku and how that would go!

23. Favorite picture of this character?

I am on my laptop in public rn so I don't want to browse through all of my fave photos of him while someone could look over my shoulder slkfjdl but ummm. Stage!Saku's smile. Yeag<33333

[muffimtv]

this even though you dont write rn

🥑🥤💌🌻🧃🍄🪐📚🍬🦷❄️🥐🏜️<- (general art creation) 🦋🐚🐝🌸🎨🧩

YOU ARE INSANE

🥑 - you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

@fuzziecorpse @bathtubswooo and @h3xrts4-me

🥤- recommend an author or fanfic you love

sing, sweet cicada on ao3! my partner and i loved it so much that i bound a copy for him!

💌 - how many unread emails do you have right now? 

22!

🌻 - tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis

@crikey01 your tag games are so silly i love them

🧃- share some personal lore you never posted about before

ooh fun question!! whenever it rains i try to go lay out on the roof of my car, it’s very fun :3

🍄 - share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

its so hard for me to pick just one pairing BUT currently jmart is on my mind so! i think martin likes having little streaks of color in his hair and jon likes to dye his grey streaks to match

🪐- name three good things going on in your life right now

i got my brother into one of my favorite shows, i’m working on a fursuit, and prom is next week!

📚- what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? 

a fic idea i had at literally 2am yesterday

🍬 - post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

genuinely i cannot think of oen LMAO

🦷 - share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

learn to sew!! it’ll have you a lot of money on things like hemming pants/dresses, repairing clothing, and making them too

❄️ - what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

i’m always a sucker for coffee shop aus man…..

🥐 - name one internet reference that will always make you laugh

my brother and i always use “empty the compartments of your pantaloons” and one of us will respond “FOR WHAT PURPOSE???” and it always makes me giggle

🏜️- what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

those ones that are like “SCREMAING CRYING SOBBING THROWING UP EATING MY WALLS���

🦋 - share something that has been on your heart and mind lately 

JMART 🔥🔥🔥

🐚 - do you like or dislike surprises?

i like them usually!

🐝 - tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

@fuzziecorpse hiii i love you <3

@notroadkills u are so funny king

@crikey01 YOUR ART IS SO GOOD LET ME EAT IT

🌸 - do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

my baby bunny easter (she is actually terribly old)

woe, baby be upon ye

🎨 - link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

this martin art. specifically the second one 😭😭 that little image was ALL that was on my mind when i was in my ACT today

🧩 - what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

NO PARAGRAPH BREAKS OR PUNCTUATION

PLEASEEEE I DONT WANT TO READ A BLOCK OF TEXT MY EYES ARENT MADE TO HANDLE IT

[ugh-yoongi]

jewel, how would you rank bts as the most to least likely to be a cat owner? and also what cat do you think fit each of them the best

OHHHHH THIS QUESTION IS RIGHT UP MY ALLEY TYSM FOR ASKING ME <3

bts as cat owners

— most:

taehyung. i feel like i've seen more pictures of this man with cats than of me with my own. derailed an entire run episode just because he wanted to pet one, which is peak cat owner behavior. you guys also see how he is with yeontan. his cat would have holiday themed cat trees, coordinated outfits, a fifteen-step feeding routine that would guarantee no one would ever pet-sit for him. type he'd have: bengal. generally non-aggressive, loving, and loyal. needs 24/7 attention.

jimin. i think he said loves cats but he's allergic (???) so ignore that, we're throwing away canon for bangtan's resident disney princess. jimin has snow white vibes—leave him alone in an enchanted forest for five minutes and he comes back with a dozen new animal friends, and a cat would be no different. type he'd have: bonded shelter pair. any breed, any sex, he doesn't care; jimin's just here for the vibes (getting suckered in by a sob story).

yoongi. he is a cat, so of course he's in the top three. we all saw that picture of him with the cute black cat in his lap, and that's him to a T. you think he's not going to be that stereotypical pet parent but then you're out shopping with him one day and he's like do you think the cat would like this. oh this made me think of the cat so i'm gonna buy it. leave them alone they're sleeping. no i can't come over sorry the cat just fell asleep on me. type he'd have: domestic shorthair, either black or grey. becomes the official studio mascot. he brings it it to work in a little backpack.

jungkook. look, i don't think he'd go out of his way to adopt a cat, but we know he's spontaneous and prone to chaos so he's winding up with one eventually, and i have a very specific image in my head so stay with me. type he'd have: he's 1000% a sphynx owner. loves that everyone thinks they're weird-looking, and loves even more to send pictures and videos in the groupchat of their nasty toe gunk. buys it a long-sleeved cat t-shirt with tattoos printed on it to match him. names it something stupid like chicken caesar salad. gets a tattoo of it.

namjoon. another one i don't think is going looking for a cat, but i can absolutely see him retiring to a small cottage near the water, maybe an island or a peninsula, that has a cat colony. very hemingway vibes, yanno? immediately panics and is like what the fuck am i supposed to do with all these cats????? and then just accepts that this is his life now. he feeds and names them all, takes care of them, has a pocket-sized journal where he jots down notes about each of their personalities. someone finds it after he dies and it goes viral and a cat sanctuary gets named after him.

seokjin. as much as it breaks my heart to say it, seokjin just does not have cat dad energy. the upside of this, however, is that i get to assign him my favorite cat breed. type he'd have: norwegian forest cat!!!! seokjin has wegie dad written all over him. this cat's going fishing. it's chattering away and matching his energy. it's happily sleeping all day while he games. these two are like university roommates and that suits them perfectly.

hobi. i cannot envision this man having a cat either, i'm so sorry bc i know he donates a ton of money to animal shelters, but if he did: extremely high-tech cat owner. automatic litter box, automatic feeder, water fountain. only the best for his little furry friend, who probably has some really cool fashion-forward name, like schiaparelli or some shit. type he'd have: turkish angora. visually stunning, but doesn't handle change well.

— least.

[byliever]

So you agree that it looks like they’re setting mikeven up for endgame most likely 😓

Oh, God no. Mileven is dead and is practically already buried at this point.

Have you noticed the recent uptick in people who have begun to realize how toxic the relationship is? As much as I might have disliked Season 4, I do think it was effective at showing the general audience that Mileven has never really been in love. Both Mike and Eleven have never really loved each other. They like the ideas they have of each other. Mike is in love with the superhero who landed on his front lawn (his own fucking words, which is the really sad thing) and El has been in love with the knight in shining armor who protected her and kept her safe from the Bad Men. They have idealized pictures of each other, and being confronted with the reality of who they both were means the relationship was effectively dead on arrival.

Mileven was NEVER going to work. I don't think the show would ever end with them being together/endgame. It would be a little too...well, weird. Problematic.

Let me clarify my response to the last ask you sent.

I never said Byler wasn't going to be endgame. Even a casual perusal of all the subtext shows that they appear to be moving in that direction.

Here's the thing.

I don't trust the writers to do what's good for the show. I don't trust the writers to do what the subtext says.

Season 4 (Volume 2 in particular) was an absolute clusterfuck. We thought Byler was going to get decent content. Instead, what we got was Will Byers playing cheerleader to prop up Mileven while he clearly was dealing with the fact that he had a crush on the boy who was dating his sister.

We got a Mike Wheeler who has become so apathetic to anything besides Eleven that he doesn't notice the fact that his supposed best friend is sobbing when he's sitting like...three feet away. Doesn't question the fact that he's crying while he's explaining the painting to him. Look, I get that it's sort of popular to say that Mike is some oblivious, stupid guy who doesn't know anything about what's going on around him, but he's NOT this dumb ffs. Season 1 and 2 Mike was smart. The sock puppet he's been reduced to in Season 3 and 4 has made his character unrecognizable.

What I'm trying to say here is: fuck canon. I honestly don't care anymore. I still ship Byler. I always will. I love the characters of Mike and Will (they're real characters, not...whatever the fuck Season 3 and 4 had going on).

So...is Byler endgame? Maybe. Hopefully.

Is Mileven? Hopefully not.

Who knows?

[uwusillygirl]

i truly loved reading your thoughts about this. it would be so fun if maybe you could occasionally post recs of your favorite books/movies/shows and maybe briefly share opinions on them? only if that would be fun for you of course! i'm just saying i, and i'm positive many of your readers/followers, would be delighted to see them!

you are absolutely right regarding NP featuring a parade of horrifying clueless men masquerading as doms where all of marianne's masochistic tendencies seem to get repeatedly exploited without the scenes being "resolved" in any meaningful or helpful way. & instead of an ideal result of her feeling somewhat better and at peace, they leave her the same raw bleeding wound of a girl. and your take on connell needing to prove to himself he's good and good TO marianne when in reality many times he has been anything but... really brilliant. i don't think i've ever thought of it that way, as lost as i was in my harrumphing about what i took as rooney's repeated portrayal of slow vanilla sex being equated to true quasi-soulmate-bond love and affection. though i am first to admit i am a very sensitive girl who will immediately take things to heart if i see myself in a piece of fiction, and sometimes miss the bigger literary analysis picture. i'm so glad i sent an ask! also lol @ paul and daisy definitely sacrificing some canon information to say get behind me BDSM baddies of all types we got y'all. (also idk if you've seen/heard but paul mescal is in a film called "aftersun" that i believe is playing in select theaters right now which from my understanding is a very dreamy and melancholy potentially-hysterical-tear-inducing two hours of him being a young girl dad. i have not seen it yet because i think it might actually break my brain in a very dangerous way that i am not equipped for atm, and i am already pre-mourning my sanity and emotional stability for when i finally bite the bullet)

also as someone who has full on sobbed to your beautiful cathartic words many times over, i am grateful to you for exploring freaky mentally unstable girls who maybe should re-evaluate their relationship to sex but also maybe shouldn't because sometimes it's ok to be insane and slutty if you have a partner to support you through it! if drugs can't fix you maybe having 15 orgasms in a row can! even though i think i am different from your chrissy in many ways, i have never felt so validated by a character and never felt so hopeful and fulfilled seeing her clawing her way to happiness. sometimes it feels like you've taken stuff from the darkest stickiest ugliest parts of my brain and put it on paper and i'm like ok well now i've got to have a three week crisis to deal with this now, except it usually ends in some necessary acceptance and potential healing and always at least a temporary period of bright hope for the future (which is so difficult to come by some days). so thank YOU!

i loved reading what you had to say, as well! thank you so much for sharing (u actually got my brain all crazy and now i'm writing a little something that'll hopefully be up tonight lmao)! i would be SO happy to share recs (including ones tailored to specific interests!) if that's something people would like! anyone can lmk! i watch and read a shit ton for my work, actually, so i'm always so happy to share thoughts. it'll give my loved ones a break from my random excitable rants, too.

going a little out of order here, but i have found that the day i let go of trying to understand, rid of, or narrativize my sexuality, gender expression, and sexual interests and just say "whether it came from some event or is inherent or is a choice, it just is what it is, and that's okay" it paradoxically became way less of an issue for me, and way easier to express what i like and want just for the sake of it. in my opinion, there's only so much exploring we can do before it becomes a sort of ouroboros of "i'm trying to work stuff out for me" turning into "i'm trying to be sexually palatable in a new way".

"get behind me bdsm baddies" is so fucking funny. i have actually seen aftersun and was one of the original hysterical criers over it. i can confirm it is a life ruiner, and yet i'm going in for a rewatch on sunday. best movie of the year in my opinion!

i am so flattered that first one's free has moved you! it's more than okay to be insane and slutty! i don't know you, but can pretty confidently say that your darkest stickiest ugliest parts of your brain are not that bad if my chrissy expresses them - she may think she's a mess but i think she (and anyone who resonates with her) is doing just great and is a good person deserving of good things <3 if i didn't believe that then i'd also be so fucked lmao.

hope the near future brings you those good things! glad to hear you're finding spaces to feel hopeful.

please send an ask whenever, i'm so glad you reached out!

[sad-boy-hank]

There's two routes this can go.

There's the Family Route: Spinel Heart

or

The Soulmate Route: Spinel & Lepidolite

(A thing about both routes is that the DSMP timeline happened canonically speaking without Tommy in the picture and after Wilbur's revival, Fundy, Tubbo, and Ranboo basically reconciled with each other and decided to leave the server which was the cause of everything negative. In the Soulmate route, Punz & Purpled are also out of the SMP)

The Family route consists of Tommy & the SBI, Fundy, Tubbo, and Ranboo.

Tommy is watering the flowers on the front lawn to see Alivebur, Techno, Phil, and 3 strangers walk up towards the cottage. Excited and rejuvenated because 'they finally came home!', Tommy practically barrels straight into Techno like a cannon ball and yells "TECHIE!! WILBY!! PAPA!!!" over and over again, hugging and practically crawling all over the three who are surprised and sobbing because hello??? Tommy, their beautiful sunshine child that they practically abandoned in the favor of journeying servers still remembers them and loves them???? They don't deserve it, Tommy or his love because they're actually self aware of their thoughts and actions which were really shitty and cringe????

Tearful family reunion and a bunch of sincere apologies about leaving and being dicks are shared and undeserved (to them) forgiveness from their golden sunshine boy. Tommy's nephew, Fundy, Tubbo, Ranboo, and Micheal are introduced and Tommy doesn't hold amosite towards them because, "More people! More friends! WOW I'M AN UNCLE!!".

The premise of all this is basically fluffy reunion & making new friends but also a bit of angst where they all figure Tommy being a tad loony and the guilt of leaving alone years on end to become this way. Just fluff and healing each other. The SBI especially are gonna have guilt written into their very beings tho so rip them for that lol.

The Soulmate route consists of Tommy, Purpled, Punz & the SBI, Fundy, Tubbo, and Ranboo.

In this, Tommy's about 10 when he meets Purpled and Punz. Purpled is the 1st to meet him. He stumbled upon Tommy's cottage when he was lost and separated from his brother Punz. Tommy having no human or hybrid or otherwise interactions, welcomed Purpled and helped him to the nearest village the next day as it was nearing nightfall. The two became friends and Purpled introduced Tommy, Punz as his big brother. They travel and all but always come back to visit Tommy without fail.

Soon enough, at 15, Purpled and Tommy get platonically married and even held a mock wedding with a suit Purpled & Punz got at a nearby village and Tommy's Mom's wedding dress (Tommy says only women and the biggest of men like Tommy could pull off wearing dresses gorgeously) & veil that was a tad to big but just enough to fit a fast growing Tommy at Tommy's open field farms which had a nice setting with the farm animals as the guests and Punz as the priest. They even took pictures and Tommy has officially became a housewifeband. Tommy is a wifeband.

When the time that The SBI, Tubbo, Ranboo, Micheal, and Fundy meet Punz, Purpled, and Tommy who's at 17, it basically plays out like in the Family route except in a more comedic and serious-at-certain-moments way.

Difference would be that Punz and Purpled are low-key (highkey) pissed at the SBI because, "You think you have the right to just waltz in Tommy's life like you deserve to even BE in his presence?? You're fucking lucky Tommy actually for some reason loves you so much to the point he'd be distraught over your death." - Punz & Purpled

The two just pettily rub it into the other SBI's faces about Purpled being Tommy's very beloved Bedwars famous husband and Punz his super awesome mercenary big brother. That and just making them suffer in petty but subtle ways. If they want to deserve Tommy, they better fucking prove it. Fundy, Ranboo, Tubbo, and Micheal get a pass because they weren't there or know of it in the 1st place.

On The SBI's end, they're all crying for the reasons like in the Family route but also because their baby sunshine boy is MARRIED! Married without them ever seeing him at his wedding, without ever walking him down the aisle, without even KNOWING! They cry harder when seeing the wedding photos and in Kristen's, their mother, old wedding dress.

Very crackfic and petty leading the SBI's road to redemption for Tommy.

And Tommy throughout all this is happily making friends with the Underscore-Beloveds and his Nephew Fundy.

SCREAMS

[presidentrhodes]

How about some IronHusbands? Tony keeps telling the avengers how awesome his husband is but they don't believe he exists because it has been months and they still haven't met him yet and then finally, Rhodey comes home :)

See, I was going to write a cute 700-word fic for this, but your prompt was too good and this turned into a 5K monster. I’m sorry. :(

Title: The Other Mr Stark: Pilot, Scientist and Iron Man’s Mysterious Paramour

Rating: PG

Pairing: Tony Stark/James Rhodes

Summary: Clint leans over to Tony and whispers. “For the record, I know you’re lying. You’re describing the perfect man and he doesn’t exist. You might as well say you’re dating Superman because at least Christopher Reeve was a looker.“ 

This ignores the chronology and canon from Iron Man 2. It’s not yet beta-ed so, I apologise for all mistakes!

***

“Don’t be ridiculous, Stark,” Clint says from the lounge floor, where he sits cross-legged, trying to build a house of cards on the table. Natasha’s lying on the sofa next to him, her feet on Steve’s lap as he massages them. Bruce sits in an armchair opposite them, his attention fixed on the Starkpad in his hands. Thor stands by the floor-to-ceiling window behind Bruce, watching the cars driving along Park Avenue 80 floors down. “You’re making shit up." 

It’s team-bonding night: Steve came up with the idea a month after the Avengers stopped an alien invasion and moved into the spacious penthouse atop Stark Tower. New York began the long, arduous process of rebuilding; tall construction cranes wedged between damaged skyscrapers carried out repair work and men in reflective vests and bright yellow helmets became a common sight all over the city. 

Tony’s at the bar mixing drinks for the team, even though he hasn’t touched alcohol in over a decade. His cocktails, he claims, are still kickass. "Why would I lie to you, Barton? I am going to get nothing out of it." 

They have been going back and forth for an hour since Tony let it slip that contrary to what the New York Post says every week, he’s happily married. His husband’s a decorated Air Force Colonel and a rocket scientist by training and, Tony insists, he once fought a homophobe bare-chested outside MIT in the freezing Northeast winter, for insulting Tony.

"It was my birthday. Honeybear had no time for assholes,” Tony says, shaking the martini he’s making for Natasha. “The fight was brutal, and this guy was built like a horse. I thought Platypus wouldn’t last a minute but I was wrong. Dead wrong.” Tony gesticulates at appropriate moments in his recounting of the tale and embellishes it with just the right amount of spice to impress upon the demi-gods, assassins and supersoldiers in his audience that his husband is a goddamn hero. 

Tony’s husband had apparently exchanged punches with the bigot that left both men bleeding profusely from their noses. “Then Honeybear uppercuts him out of nowhere and it’s a total KO,” Tony says, moving on to make Steve’s drink—a mojito; how typical of Captain Boyscout McSexypants. “I thought I was watching Ali versus Foreman on replay. It was beautiful.”

Bruce snorts at the comparison without glancing up from the tablet. 

Clint’s face contorts and he knits his brows in frustration as the sparse details from Tony fail to add up in his mind. The stacked cards look dangerously close to toppling over. “You want us to believe in this ‘mysterious’ paramour, and all you’re giving out are a bunch of ridiculous nicknames and made-up stories with no evidence and no pictures. Sounds completely legitimate.”

“Hey, why did I never come across this husband of yours when I was your PA?” Natasha chips in, the corner of her mouth quirks up. Steve grins at the way Tony’s face turns red and his nostrils flair—from what he has learned, courtesy of Shield and Ms Potts, Tony’s pride hasn’t recovered from being thoroughly fooled by the Black Widow two summers ago.

Tony tosses a lime at Natasha. She swats it away with an expert backhand, and the lime crashes into Clint’s deck of cards. The archer snarls a string of expletives, forcing out Steve’s stern 'Captain America is disappointed in you, son’ look. Tony flashes a lopsided smile from the bar. “Well, Ms Rushman, I don’t discuss all aspects of my life with personal assistants. Even ones as attractive as you.”

“Call me Rushman one more time and—" 

Thor finally turns to join the conversation and butts in before Natasha delivers the rest of her threat. "Your husband must be a good, honourable man. I’m sure he’s worthy of his place in Valhalla."  The response draws surprised looks around the room. Even Tony double-takes at first, his eyes wide and bug-like as if he can’t believe what his ears are picking up. He recovers fast and rubs his hands together in glee. "See? The god agrees with me. It’s settled, I win.”

The conversation turns to Fury and Shield—specifically, determining if Phil Coulson is a human mimicking an AI or an artificial intelligence pretending to be a 39-year-old homo sapiens sapiens. Tony brings over the drinks and sinks to the floor next to Clint. The archer leans over and whispers. “For the record, I know you’re lying. You’re describing the perfect man and he doesn’t exist. You might as well say you’re married to Superman because at least Christopher Reeve was a looker." 

Tony rolls his eyes. "You’ll eat your words soon enough, birdbrain." 

***

‘Soon enough’ turns out to be a month later when the topic of Tony’s mystery husband makes an unannounced appearance in the middle of a mission. Taking on a small army of unidentified robots possessing a hive brain, near a country fair, leaves Steve, Natasha and Tony in charge of shepherding a group of children away from the direct line of fire. Thor and Hulk keep the main fighting focused on them while Clint takes out the spare droids, one by one, from his spot on a nearby roof. 

Natasha leads them past smouldering scraps of metal and burning tarp, towards the carousel where the children huddle together, their faces white as sheets. Behind her, Steve’s limping along. He’s bleeding into his suit after taking several hits earlier from the droids and their shoulder-mounted plasma cannons. Tony provides aerial support, keeping the stray robots away from the kids. 

"You know,” he begins on the team’s shared comms channel, watching Natasha approach the terrified children with an unnatural, almost enviable, ease, like she has spent a lifetime perfecting the art of looking after them. “Platypus is really good with kids too. His sister sometimes leaves her daughter with us when she’s travelling, and he’s a natural with her. I always thought kids are fussy about everything.” Clint groans. Tony ignores him and continues, letting JARVIS take control of the armour to round up and disable the remaining droids. 

“Jeannie always says Lila is a fussy baby at home. She has made a career out of screaming when things don’t go her way. When she stays with us, she turns into an angel because of Platypus.” No one responds. Tony’s attention shifts to how pale Steve looks in his viewfinder. He watches the Captain stagger behind Natasha and asks JARVIS to scan his teammate to take stock of his injuries; Tony knows once the mission is over, Steve will downplay his condition. He’ll brush it off as “just a couple of knocks, nothing too serious,” and bury himself in paperwork in his office to avoid medical attention. The man hates hospitals. Tony can’t blame Steve—he detests them, too. 

“My scans detect Captain Rogers has sustained three broken ribs and severe lacerations,” JARVIS drawls in his thick, mechanical voice. “Readings indicate his supersoldier abilities have already contained the bleeding, and the ribs should heal on their own by the week’s end.”

“Thanks, J.” Tony lands on the ground next to Steve. They watch Natasha usher the children towards the perimeter that Shield agents, who finally arrived at the scene, have set up. Worried parents, some of them openly sobbing, stand behind the barricades, waiting to be reunited with their children. “Captain. You’re hurt,” Tony informs Steve as a matter of fact. 

“I hadn’t noticed,” Steve says, deadpan, and lets out a pained breath. 

The faceplate lifts. Tony gives a half-smile at Steve. “Let me carry you back to the infirmary. You need medical attention and my husband is a big fan. He’ll lose his mind when I tell him I carried Captain America bridal style back to base.” Fortunately for Tony, whatever objection Steve’s about to raise dies on his lips as exhaustion wins him over. He collapses face-first on the muddy field, and Tony’s kneeling by his side in a flash, checking for a pulse. He sags inside the suit in relief when he finds one, and JARVIS helpfully diagnoses “severe fatigue” for the Captain. The AI chooses that precise moment to reveal to Tony that Steve Rogers hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in three months. 

“Avenger down,” Tony tells the team. A chorus of concerned voices floods the comms channel. “The Captain’s had a long day. I’m taking him back to medical, you guys handle cleanup and Coulson. I am busy in the evening, so, don’t call me or page me unless the world is on fire and one of you is actually dying." 

No one speaks for a few moments. Clint cuts through the static in a flat, disinterested tone. "What’s keeping you busy, Stark? Sexy date in the Bahamas with your imaginary husband?" 

"If you have to know, birdbrain, it’s our anniversary and I’m going to the base to see him.”

Clint chortles. 

“You still won’t tell us what base he’s stationed at. Let me guess, is it Area 51? Is your imaginary husband an alien, Stark? Holy shit, you’re married to Superman." 

The words vex Tony. "Do you ever shut up, Barton?” He doesn’t wait for a reply and turns off his comms. Tony carries Steve in his arms and flies back to the Tower.

***

A few weeks later, after pulling another all-nighter in the lab, Tony walks in on Steve, Natasha and Bruce gathered in the kitchen for breakfast. Clint’s on vacation. Tony counts that as a blessing. He knows despite Clint’s cynicism, at some point, the archer started tailing Tony’s every move, inside and outside the Tower, to find out more about Platypus. Working as an assassin over the years, Clint honed his ability to stay under the radar, but all of that training didn’t stand a chance against JARVIS and his all-sensing presence.

“Barton’s been following me,” Tony says, pouring himself a coffee. He curses—someone, and he knows it’s Thor, keeps leaving coffee grounds inside the pot. That barbarian. “He thought he was being clever by using the vents, but nothing gets past JARVIS.”

Bruce narrows sleep-heavy eyes at Tony: “I thought J doesn’t surveil us.” The words come out as nothing more than a low, gruff mumble. Stifling a yawn, Bruce slouches forward and rests his face on the granite countertop. His eyes droop; for all of his unparalleled work in anti-electron collision theory, Bruce Banner remains incapable of being a morning person.   

“He doesn’t when you’re in your private quarters. The vents are public areas, and standard building security protocols apply.” Tony strains his coffee. He makes a mental note to speak to Thor—the Asgardian proved himself to be a fast learner of Earthly etiquettes. He’s come a long way from smashing coffee mugs to ordering customised drinks at Starbucks without pissing off the baristas. Even Captain America sometimes gets the stink eye when he asks for soy milk instead of dairy. Tony suspects baristas around the city are too enamoured by Thor’s godly presence to ever crib about his order.  

“Why would Clint stalk you through the vents?” Steve asks. Tony finds the puzzled look on Steve’s face endearing. “50% of his DNA is bird. He’s just following his instincts,” he says. Tony bites back a laugh at Steve’s hardened expression; he appears genuinely distressed by the idea that one of his human teammates may not be 100% human. 

Tony admires the way the Captain works hard to adjust to his new life in the 21st century—waking up to an alien invasion led by a horned Norse god proved to be a hell of a way to get over the initial culture shock. And, while Steve made a quick study of smart kitchen appliances and most of the Internet, genetic modifications and other advances in technology set off regular alarm bells in his head. Noticing the way Steve’s lips curl downward, Natasha offers a quick clarification: “Tony’s being an idiot. Clint’s not actually part bird, even if he is as obtuse as one." 

"Well, birdbrain has to get more creative than vents to get the jump on JARVIS,” Tony says, squeezing between Steve and Natasha. They hear Bruce’s gentle snores—he really hates mornings—and Tony whispers. “Honeybear is the only one who has gotten past J.”

On cue, JARVIS chimes in softly: “That is correct. His method was delightfully inventive, one that has enhanced my detection abilities tenfolds.”

Without being prompted, Tony volunteers the information to his teammates in a hushed tone: “We had a bet. Each of us picked a random day to break into Stark Industries. The goal was to get into my office without alerting J." 

Steve and Natasha listen, their expressions dull, as Tony explains in unnecessary details how his husband got the jump on artificial intelligence—Natasha makes mental notes to make her own attempt later if only to test her own skills against an all-seeing machine. 

"Honeybear set off a small and easily contained fire in our backyard while I was sleeping. Because J’s primary protocol is to protect me, he had to assess its threat level. But, it was in a contained environment; the variables were known, and the calculation should’ve been easy, except his protocol says he cannot dismiss the threat until it is eliminated,” Tony says, watching Steve’s eyes widen. The Captain, ever the cynic, is probably working out a hundred different world-ending scenarios about a rogue AI. He and J aren’t so different in their personalities, Tony thinks. 

“JARVIS spent most of his processing power keeping an eye on me. His second protocol says he must at all times protect the Stark Secure Server, my private server. And, no, Natasha, I know that look. It’s not at Stark Industries, I know you’ve looked, and I won’t tell you where it is so that Shield can go snooping.” Natasha glowers at him, her cheeks flushed at being caught red-handed. “That left J with very little juice to handle everything else for all Stark Industries offices around the world. He didn’t even notice Honeybear walk onto the premises or enter my office.”

Tony pauses to let his teammates absorb and appreciate his husband’s ingenuity: Steve looks impressed, Natasha scowls at Tony. Bruce, with his eyes still closed and head down, breaks the silence. “I’ve seen J’s documentation. You wrote him to back himself up on local servers precisely to avoid this situation. You said your roommate at MIT gave you the idea. Plus, you use an insane amount of RAM, I’ve seen your set up.”

Tony claps.

“Finally. Someone who sees the obvious error in this story. And yet, somehow, Honeybear got into my office undetected. Either he’s the superspy of the millennium—sorry, Widow—or someone is lying.” Tony glances at the ceiling. “What? You like him better or something?” JARVIS doesn’t respond. Instead, music flits in from the overhead speakers: Tell me lies. Tell me sweet little lies (Tell me lies, tell me, tell me lies). Oh, no, no you can’t disguise. 

“Smartass.”

***

On Christmas Eve, Tony arrives at the common floor and overhears the team in deep conversation. His curiosity plants him in a corner outside the lounge, within hearing distance, but strategically hidden from the occupants inside. He picks up on Natasha speaking with an underlying worry in her tone. “That’s not the point, Clint. When I assessed him, he was dying. Very painfully, if I may add. He’s proven himself to be a team player and he’s a vital member of this team—" 

Clint cuts her off. "He’s delusional, Nat. He’s making up an entire person and coming up with these larger than life stories. It was funny the first time, but it’s clear he believes in the stuff he says. If he’s losing it, we need to know because we’re a team. We have got to have each other’s backs at all times.”

Steve chimes in: “His life is his own. We should respect his privacy, Clint. I’m sure when he’s ready, he’ll introduce us to his husband. Don’t force it on him.” Tony’s built-in cynicism would have once made fun of the unadulterated optimism behind Steve’s words. But, hearing the Captain speak in his, and Platypus’, defence like that makes Tony want to immediately buy the Brooklyn apartment he knows Steve’s eyeing and give him the keys in a gift-wrapped box with a bow. 

Captain America’s assurances fail to convince Clint or soothe his exasperation. “Your optimism is misplaced, Cap. There is no husband, no boyfriend. Nothing! Nat and I have looked everywhere and there’s not a trace of Stark ever getting hitched, let alone to another military man. I get it, don't ask, don't tell when that was still the law, right? What about now? There has to be some kind of a legal record, somewhere, if Stark's really married.”

“Maybe it’s a manifestation of his trauma,” Bruce supplies. “He’s well overdue a psych evaluation. He hasn’t talked to anyone since the invasion. We should cut him some slack.”

Clint doubles down. “We need to know if he’s hallucinating before someone tries to take over the world again. It’s one thing if he’s making it up for street cred, but if he genuinely believes in it…" 

"He’s creating another armour,” Natasha says. Tony feels vindicated by the admission—he knows she pokes around his lab whenever Stark Industries business calls him away to the other coast. Her clandestine efforts fail to outsmart J’s all-sensing presence, but confronting the Black Widow about it, and risking dismemberment, ranks low on Tony’s list of priorities. To have her admit it in front of their teammates takes a small weight off his chest. “I’ve seen the blueprint. This is a leaner, tougher armour with some serious firepower.”

“Yeah. Fury commissioned it,” Steve says. Someone—Bruce—curses out loud at the revelation. Tony bites his lips and presses a hand over his mouth to stop himself cackling. Fools, those god-damn irredeemable fools, Tony thinks. Steve continues. “He wants to recruit that Air Force Colonel he always raves about.”

“James Rhodes.” Clint jumps in. “See, now he is an impressive man. I’ve read his files and I can see why Fury’s in love with him. Hell, I’m in love with him, too.” Tony’s close to tears from holding back his laughter at the archer’s enthusiastic tone; he doesn’t want to risk giving away his location and miss the rest of the conversation about the new recruit. “So, Stark’s agreed to make a suit for the Colonel. That's…surprising, seeing how possessive he is of his tech. He tased me last month when I tried to get a good look under the hood.”

“Maybe, Fury made him an offer he can’t refuse.”

“Does Stark know?” Natasha asks. “About Fury’s plans to recruit the Colonel? I heard Nick mentored him in college.”

“Shit,” Clint shouts. Tony regrets the lack of visual cues to go with the congregation inside and makes his own: Clint jumps on the sofa without warning next to Bruce, who turns a deep shade of green. While Steve and Natasha work to calm Bruce down, Clint squats on top of the backrest, like a bird perched on its nest among sky-high branches. Tony laughs at the imagery in silence. 

“Rhodes went to MIT too, didn’t he? He studied aeronautics and astronautics—basically, rocket science. And, he’s Stark’s age. It’s not impossible they crossed paths there. Do you think Stark is holding onto some creepy university crush or did he make up his fake husband based on the Colonel?" 

"He really needs that psych eval." 

That’s when Tony decides he’s heard enough. He can barely keep himself together and in his excitement, he knocks into a solid, immovable mass. "Fuck,” Tony mutters and looks up into Thor’s dark blue eyes. Maybe the city baristas had a point, Tony thinks, and it’s futile to fight the Asgardian charm that oozes from every pore on Thor’s body. 

Tony still pinches himself from time to time and wonders how a god fell out of legends, waltzed into his life and took up residence in his penthouse. After butting heads over Thor’s murderous brother Loki, they forged a friendship based on mutual respect—another thing which puzzles Tony because Thor’s a deity and he’s just a guy. Thor protested once when Tony blurted it out. “You’re not just a 'guy’.”

Thor’s quieter and more reserved than his broad GQ-model-like physique suggests; he prefers to observe instead of participating in the team’s special brand of eccentricity. Everyone on the team agrees that Thor is immeasurably perceptive. 

“Hello, Pointbreak,” Tony says, clasping his shoulder. “What are you doing out here? You’re missing all the fun inside. They’re talking about having me committed because they don’t believe Platypus is real. They think I’m hallucinating.”

Thor’s face twists into a frown, a contrast to Tony’s playful grin. “Then they are silly,” he says. “I have seen how fondly you speak of him, Tony. You love your husband." 

"More than I can put into words, buddy.” Tony sighs as his smile falters, his arms crossing over his chest. “Platypus is the bedrock of my life. Got me through some really bad times. After everything he has seen me say or do, he’s still here, and I wonder what I did to deserve him. You know? It’s surreal. Which god answered my prayers that I got so lucky?”

Thor steps forward until he’s up in Tony’s face, mere inches separating them. That man may possess a delightful and exuberant personality. But he has no concept of personal space, which Tony files under 'Usual Asgardian Oddities’, along with Thor’s habit of speaking to inanimate objects when he thinks no one is looking. Large hands rest his bony shoulders in a hard grip, and Tony thinks Thor is about to impart some godly wisdom. Interruption, if only to point out the awkwardness of their proximity, may come across as rude. "Listen here, Tony Stark. I have lived and watched over your realm for a thousand years. I’ve seen civilisations rise and fall, kingdoms destroyed by greed, great men brought down by hubris. But, you, my friend, you are among the best of them. Midgard should be proud to call you her son. Never ever doubt your worthiness.” Thor beams. 

Tony tries to think up a response to that, but his mouth snaps shut. How does one top a speech where an actual god calls you worthy? In the end, Tony nods and stays still until Thor lets him go. “I will consider it a great honour the day you choose to let us meet the man who has stolen your heart. For one who’s deserving of your love, I also consider him worthy.”

On his way out, Tony texts his husband: You won’t believe it but I think Thor just blessed our marriage. 

The reply comes immediately: Holy shit. I feel blessed already. Merry Christmas and see you soon xx. 

***

Fury calls the team for an urgent meeting after New Year’s Day. His memo reads like every other missive he sends, curt and to the point: Meeting at 10 @ HQ. Don’t be late. 

They take Tony’s private jet to DC because the Quinjet was out of commission, undergoing repairs after their latest mission—a villain holding Manhattan’s power grids hostage—damaged the engines. Onboard, they huddle in front of the flatscreen watching CNN analyse Justin Hammer’s trial. Tony gives them a breakdown of his business rival—how Justin tried to sabotage the Stark Expo by presenting cheap knockoffs of the Iron Man armour that blew up the entire venue. The anchor reads out charges levelled against Hammer: money laundering, racketeering, fraud, public endangerment, copyright infringement. And a dozen lawsuits from Stark Industries and affected civilians.

“Ouch,” Clint says, reclining in his seat. “That’s a bit excessive, even for making cheap knockoffs of your suit and blowing them up at your expo, Stark.”

“Trust me, birdbrain, we take corporate espionage very seriously,” Tony replies. A live feed shows Hammer arriving at the courthouse in orange overalls, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair in disarray. The press swarms around him, shoving microphones and cameras in his face. Hammer tries to push his way through the crowd. “Oh, Justin. You know, if he had even an ounce of charm in his bones he could’ve gotten the charges reduced.”

“You can’t charm your way through everything, Tony,” Bruce points out. 

Tony smiles. “Not everyone can, no. My husband on the other hand—” The shift in the atmosphere is palpable. Clint tunes out of the conversation to stare out the window. Bruce shifts uncomfortably in his seat, Natasha presses her lips together in a frown, and Steve surveys the lines on his palms. Only Thor shows interest, so, Tony continues. “Few years ago, I dared him to charm a store manager at Macy’s. They had this perfume set from their exclusive collection. I wanted to see if Platypus could convince her to give him a set for free. You should’ve seen him, Thor. He knew all the right things to say, the right moments to smile, and I think if he had asked, she’d have given him the keys to the store. We gave it back later because it would’ve come out of her paycheck, otherwise. Platypus is a real charmer. You’ll love him.”

Thor’s laughs drown out Clint’s audible scoff. “I look forward to meeting him.”

“We should buckle up, we’re about to land,” Steve says, pointing to the seat belt sign. 

***

Fury waits for them in a conference room on the top floor of the Triskelion. One by one, the Avengers fill in, with Tony being the last to enter. He takes the seat closest to the door. 

“I’ll keep this short,” Fury says, without preamble. It’s one of the few things Tony admires about the director—he loathes wasting time as much as Tony. “The Avengers Initiative was started to be Earth’s first and last line of defence against extraterrestrial threats. We’ve shown the world why we need to exist and your heroic efforts have won us more goodwill from the public than we have anticipated. My bosses have instructed me to expand this team. You will meet the new recruits over the course of the year. They will train with you and Stark has agreed to house them at the Tower.”

Clint perks up. “Colonel Hottie said yes?" 

Natasha kicks him under the table. 

"What? He’s perfect. He’s smart, brave, and real. No offence, Stark.” Tony shoots him a dirty look. Clint turns to Steve. “Hey Cap, what’s your opinion on team romances? Yay or nay?" 

"Clint,” Steve gives him his best 'Son, stop disappointing Captain America’ look. “This is neither the time nor the place.” The archer slumps in his chair and says loudly, “Look, I just want to know how many protocols I’ll be breaking to ask Colonel Rhodes out on a date." 

Before Steve or Fury can answer, a new voice replies. "The answer would be none, Mr Barton. As flattering as your proposition sounds, I am unfortunately off the market.” All seven pairs of eyes turn to the doorway—James Rhodes leans against the doorframe in a grey polo shirt, a black bomber jacket and a pair of tight-fitting black jeans. Clint swallows and stammers. Natasha kicks him again. 

“Colonel Rhodes,” Fury says and motions him to come forward. “Meet the team." 

Rhodes takes stock of the room, his eyes resting a millisecond longer on Tony, and says, "Hey. Call me Jim." 

Steve’s the first to rise as he moves in to shake Rhodes’ hand. "Good to meet you, Colonel. We’ve heard a lot about you from Fury, and we’re looking forward to having you on the team.” Bruce and Natasha go next: They exchange quick, courteous 'hello’s before Clint almost trips over himself to greet Rhodes. He tries to play it cool but stutters at the last moment, and the words—"I’ve read your file, Colonel, where have you been all my life?“—come out all jumbled, lacking the charm and finesse he had practised ever since Steve let it slip that Fury was trying to recruit Rhodes. On his turn, Thor flashes the Colonel a knowing smirk, and despite never reading any of Rhodes’ files, he says, "Good to finally meet you, Jim. I’ve heard a lot about your adventures." 

Finally, Rhodes turns to Tony, who has been hanging back with his hands jammed in his front pockets and a closed-off expression on his face. "You look like the cat peed in your cereal today." 

"It’s your fucking cat,” Tony grumbles. He doesn’t move away as Rhodes treads over and steals a peck on the lips. The rest of the team stare in stunned silence; except Fury, who rolls his eye, and Thor, whose indulgent smile suggests he feels pretty damn good about himself for uncovering some hidden knowledge before everyone else. Steve notices the identical wedding bands on Tony and Rhodes’ fingers first, and it finally clicks. “You’re married to Tony?" 

"I am afraid the secret’s out, Captain. I am the mystery husband you’ve been hearing about and I assure you, I’m very real.” Rhodes slings a hand over Tony’s shoulder, and Tony melts into the touch, leaning on him for support, with a hand around Rhodes’ waist. No one speaks—no one fully overcomes the shock around the revelation, and though Steve looks like he’s working out the right words to say in his head, he stays quiet. At some point, Thor starts recording the confusion in the room as it unfolds—for a Space Viking who gives off strong Luddite vibes, he turns out to be exceptionally adept at using Earth tech. Tony isn’t surprised that Thor not only knows how to use a smartphone camera but he also developed a keen sense of when to use it—Barton looking like a flustered deer caught in headlights should be memorialised in every medium. 

“I’ve been told the secrecy around my existence has become a matter of concern among the team,” Rhodes says, fixing his gaze on Clint. The archer shrinks in his seat. He avoids looking at Tony. Or Rhodes. “I’m happy to answer questions, perhaps over dinner, and provide clarifications on whatever my husband has told you about me. He likes to exaggerate, as I’m sure you know. But if you don’t mind, I’d like some privacy with Tones right now. We haven’t seen each other in a year and this meeting was not my idea of a reunion. It’s lacking in some quality action if you know what I mean.” He leaves very little to the imagination. Steve’s scandalised; jaws clenched and his eyes dart from Tony to Rhodes and back to Tony. Thor continues recording as he holds the smartphone in front of the Captain’s face until Steve tries to swat it away, and misses. Only Bruce, Tony notices, shows remorse for doubting his accounts and questioning his sanity. 

With a final nod at the team, Rhodes walks out. “Coming?” He asks from the doorway. “I’ll catch up,” Tony says and lingers long enough for Fury to dismiss the team and leave. Clint’s sour expression—his nose crinkles as if he smelled something horrible—clashes with the way Tony’s eyes sparkle and his grin stretches ear to ear. “Hey birdbrain, how does it feel to be a clown? For what it’s worth, you never had a shot with him because I sealed the deal in '87. You were still working the circus. Yeah, that’s right, I read your files too—even the 'redacted’ ones.” Tony trots out of the room as Clint flips him off, with a big, smug grin plastered over his face. Some things are worth the wait—Rhodey has always been worth it. 

–FIN–

[shiro-0197]

Omigosh thank you 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 Albie— Albie just has my heart, his paws are just so cute I'm sobbing.

oh that's okay love!! Hmm, yeah I guess you could call it winter break, although there's no winter :P we just call it the end-of-the-year break, and we start again on the 20th of January.

Ikr. Dodol is such an odd name. tbh, most of the food names here are slightly strange, but they taste absolutely delicious :D so that's good haha. I'd love to try them with you too. There's 14 states and each has their own special delicacies.

Oh God I agree. The paperwork is TEDIOUS. So you know I work, right? Well, my job is basically to just do the doctor's paperwork at a clinic 😭🤚 things would be so much easier if it were computerized, but alas, it isn't. Who knows? Maybe if you become one, you could hire an assistant to do it for you :P 😭😔 God you're so sweet. No I'd not get hurt around you, at least I'd try my best not to. Why waste a second being injured when I could instead use it to do exciting things with you? :D

thank you!! Have you ever thought of doing something like that too? I'm not very good with young kids (I actually don't really even get along with them so much because they're quite a nuisance) but from experience, the older ones are okay, especially if they're all quiet and polite 😝💖

😭I'm glad they're enough. For now. BUT SOMEDAY I really will hug you !! and someone will probably have to tear me away because I don't think I'll let go 😼

a... dried?? Blobfish?? 😭 Interesting. I don't even wanna know where he got it either omg.

yes. So so so gorgeous 😭💖 I saw an ash lynx one a while ago on Instagram but then it disappeared (I'll find it again I hope) and it was the most beautiful art breeder I've EVER seen.

you're not uneducated hush >:(( you're such a smart person, I really really look up to you grrr. and yeah they're actually different. People acknowledge that fairy tails are fiction, wherelse myths were believed to be true, or at least have a ring of truth to them. :(

I wish you were here too. AND NOOOO KURO WAIT NOOOOOOOO. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO HUG HIM IF HE HAS NO LIMBS 😭😭😭

Cashews are delicious!! I don't like all nuts, but some are great. Like peanuts and walnuts. Though I have braces, so I haven't eaten them in a long time, since they hurt my mouth. I'll take them out by march, I hope, and then you bet I'm just gonna eat all of those xD I've tried Baklava!! A friend went to Turkey once, and she brought some back. It's delicious, I hope I'll try it again in the future. tho omg yes!! You're so lucky, the snacks must be to-die-for there😚😚💖💖💖💖 what other types can you get?

CHISHIYA IS ACTUALLY A CATBOY ‼️‼️ THOSE PICTURES JUST CONFIRMED IT.

I hope you enjoy your rewatch!! Coincidentally, I'm rewatching a favourite of mine too. It's called She-Ra and it's on netflix. And here's a few frames of the show I want to share with you 😿💖

I MEAN. First of all; (they're not even canon) BUT THEY'RE SO PRETTY TOGETHER. Secondly, one of them's a catgirl?? And her suit is so pretty?? And thirdly... THE DIP?? I'm dying sorry 😭😭💖

—☃️☃️ (us ü)

Yes yes !!! He's so extremely adorable and I'm kqkkkdkakkd

Оhh, I see !! That's a lot, we're going back to class at tenth, or earlier maybe. I'm glad you guys have a long break!!! You deserve it:D

Оhh, 14!! We also have 14 states (uh, provinces?) Though I dont think every one has a separate delicacy. That's so cool, though!! The more food there is, the better xD

Ackk, I know right. I did paperwork, like, once in my life and it was so exhausting?? I feel bad for you😭 I'd rather become a freelancer 😝

Fair enough! I'd do my best to have you up and straight, so you wouldn't get injured even if you wanted to (though I dont think you would)😋

Well, I've been thinking about helping kids my age with languages. But, well, I'm so bad at teaching. I'm that kind of person to go "how do you not understand this" after two times of explaining. So I try not to do that, because I dont want the teens to think I'm uncool XD

Hehe no one will have to tear you away because I'd love to hug you just as long😭😭😭💕

Aahhh!! I really hope you come across it again!! It sucks to see something gorgeous only to never encounter it again😭

Awhh, that's so sweet of you!!! 🥺🥺 I also look up to you!! You're so hardworking and responsible, couldn't be me😭 but yeah, I really get confused sometimes, people say they're the same and I'm like ????

BWNSJQJD dont worry he's all bark one bite😭😭 he'll hit me but that's all he can do, really

Yeah!!! I adore walnuts, they're my favorite. Peanuts get stuck in my teeth a lot, I still love them though💔 March is in... three months? Huhh that's a while😭 I wouldn't survive for so long without them

Hell yeah, another thing I need to make you in the future!!!! I've also tried turkish delight, the orange and the strawberry ones are my favorite. I dont like the peanut ones tho, they're too sweet😭 we also tried maklube (mac-looh-beh), and it's to die for. Tastes even better when we make it with teh whole class XD our school also has special "keklube" and "tavuklube" versions, which are totally made up names, but basically they're just cake and chicken versions of maklube

I'm forty seconds away from writing an article about why Chishiya is not so secretly a catboy XD

Aaaa I forgot about She-ra qkekkqkd!!! I wanted to watch it as well but then I got into my anime phase 😭😭 they look so good though omg😍😍 I really hope watch it soon~ I hope you're enjoying it!!!

[whumping-every-day]

Hey Sarah! Congrats on getting your card! I'm sorry you've been having a few rough days of writing. Writer's block stinks big time. Could I possibly request mercy killing from your card? If you have time and want to. I'm picturing the whimper maybe doing it to "free" a friend of the Whumpee that has also been captured? Thank you so much for all the effort you put into your stories. Please don't pressure yourself about them. We love them whenever you publish then. It should be fun for you!

Baby, buddy, my friend... thank you so much for your kind words. Also, you may regret asking me this. Because I saw this request, and immediately decided on doing the worst thing ever.

Have an Au of my vampire series, where Callum does not find and rescue Ash in time. Instead, Ash remains with the hunters who originally captured him. Callum happens to stop by years later to visit a friend. 

Content Warnings: Major character death!!! (non-canonical, but still) mouth/face/eye/finger gore, blood, broken/shattered bones, aftermath of torture, injuries, dehumanizing language, muzzles, put on display, tortured literally out of his mind, brief vomit, mercy killing. 

Tagging the vampire gang: @pepperonyscience @angelsuperwholock @pennsss @silver-sparrow-462 @silverinkgoldenquill @kestrelsparverius @learningtowhump @shameless-whumper @latenightcupsofcoffee @thebluejayswhump @what-huh-imconfused  @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic @vickytokio @pink-and-purple-flowers @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whump-em @umniyah-s

-- 

The creature twitches and shudders as it falls to the packed earth. The crowd of onlookers is thinner, now, as dusk starts to fall. A few of the townspeople linger, though, and the hunters just stand around and watch as they deal a flurry of kicks and insults to the quivering lump of flesh on the ground. 

That’s all it is, anymore. A lump of flesh. The muzzle is a part of its face, and its eye sockets are empty behind bleeding eyelids. 

There’s the rattling of strained, laboured breathing, but there is no other sound. Not even when one of the larger assailants sets his foot on the vampire’s chest and shoves. Something cracks as the creature’s torso caves in. 

“Alright, alright. ‘m afraid you will have to come back tomorrow, boys.” One of the hunters scoops up the chain attached to the creature’s collar. “Don’t worry, it’s not going anywhere.” 

One of the men laughs, wiping his boot off on the grass as if he’s touched something filthy. “Yeah, I should hope so. That thing’s practically our mascot now.” 

It takes some time, but the remaining villagers slowly start to disperse as the hunters drag the still-juddering corpse inside. It’s breathing, technically, but it’s still a corpse. There’s nothing about it that looks human anymore, not its face or its body. Its skin is still smoking, and the stench of burning meat still permeates the courtyard. Night falls, and the courtyard is empty, and the creature lies in a cage made of iron and floats on a sea of nothingness and agony. 

-- 

“Didn’t you say you have a vampire here?” Callum takes a long draw out of his tankard, drumming his fingers on the wood of the bar. He doesn’t know the hunter in front of him that well, but well enough that not stopping by when he’s in town would be rude. Derik is short and rotund, thick and broad. 

“Aww, yeah, man.” Derik is considerably deeper into his bottle than Callum is. “ ‘s hardly a vampire now, though. It’s a money-maker. Who’da ever thought people would pay to stand around ‘n watch us break it? It don’t even respond, anymore. ‘s boring.” The man slurs, glaring pensively into his bottle. 

Callum hides his grimace fairly well, but his next swig of beer tastes bitter on his tongue. He’s done awful things to these creatures, of course, but he tries to keep it quick. A bolt to the chest, or a clean decapitation with a silver blade. But then, he’s never been short on funds, so maybe he shouldn’t talk. “Hey. If it puts food on the table...” 

Derik snorts. “Barely. ‘sides, tha’s not the point. It deserves it.” 

“Ah.” Callum takes another drink. “So you guys caught it, and just... kept it?” 

“Mm-hmm.” Derik’s cheeks are flushed, and he looked about ready to pass out. But his eyes brighten suddenly, and he leans forward, nearly unbalancing on the stool. “You wanna see?” 

“Do I want to-” Callum breaks off. He doesn’t understand why the question fills him with a nameless sort of dread. He doesn’t want to see. He doesn’t want to know. And yet, that terrible dread is translating into sick curiosity. “I’ll take a peek.” 

“Yeeaaahh, that’s my man,” Derik crows. He slings a careless arm around Callum’s shoulders, and his breath stinks like booze. 

Callum is starting to regret coming here at all. 

--

“This is your vampire?” The words fall from his lips as horrified, and for a split second, for just a moment, it feels like it’s happened before. But everything is different, this time; everything is worse. 

They’ve disassembled the creature, piece by piece. Callum mistakes the dark lump for a shadow at first, but then the shadow moves. Callum’s hand falls to his knife automatically - but the figure is keening, quiet and raw. It sounds like a child sobbing, or a wounded, dying animal. It sends shivers down Callum’s spine. 

“Oh, yeah. It don’t do much no more...” Derik stumbles over to it, and he’s not steady on his feet, but he’s aware enough to spit down on it. The flesh of its lower face is burned away. Callum can see its cheekbones, and that it’s missing its teeth. Not just its fangs. All of its teeth. 

Callum gags a little and takes a step back, feeling horror roil in his gut. “What is wrong with you people?” 

Derik is busy fumbling with his pants, like he’s going to take a piss right on the creature’s broken body. He pauses at the words though, brow creasing. “Wha’s wrong with you?” He counters. “ ‘s a vampire. I can do.. wh-ever I want.” 

Callum can’t catch his breath, suddenly. The smell in the little stone room is rancid; filth and piss and rot, and the sour, overlaying stench of terror. The vampire is missing fingers, and the ones that remain are bent and crushed. Callum feels very cold, suddenly, and then very warm. 

His fingers shake as he grips his knife and draws it. He is driven by cold horror as he moves, his mind not even catching up with his body. 

Derik is too drunk to see him coming. Callum knocks him over the head with the hilt, and the man drops like a stone. Callum has to stifle the urge to keep hitting him. 

The vampire does not seem to be conscious of his presence... or of anything at all, really. Callum walks over to it, and the longer he stares, the more he feels the alcohol twisting and turning in his gut. 

It’s only when he sees the creature’s severed tendons, and the way the bottoms of its feet have been mangled, that he turns and vomits all over the floor. 

“Oh my god,” he mutters, wiping the back of his mouth. This goes far beyond overkill. This is - this is something else. This is the deepest expression of human evil he’s ever come across. Callum has never been religious, but this is an abhorrence.

There’s a stake in his hand as he crouches beside the trembling lump of skin and bone. Its head jerks in his direction, and the keening gets a little louder. 

He can’t heal it. Callum has tested the limits of a vampire’s body himself, but he’s never seen torture like this. He’d have to drain three people or over to even think of fixing it, and even then... Callum looks at the way its empty eyelids flutter, the way the exposed, caved bones in its chest rattle and wheeze. No. Healing it would not be a kindness. 

The hunter draws in an unsteady breath and grips the stake. It will be easy from here; a quick plunge, not even a moving target. But he can’t help but reach out, just once, as if something else is guiding his hand. As if allowing this creature’s last moments of contact to be violent is too much.

There’s no patch of the creature’s flesh that is not maimed in some way. Callum settles a hand as gently as he can over its empty eyes, and his jaw clenches at the way it shudders and twitches. 

“Easy,” he murmurs, even as he readies the stake. “You can rest now.” He doesn’t know why he’s trying to talk to it. It can’t understand him. Callum squeezes his eyes shut just for a moment, as if hoping to purge the gory image from his mind. But it’s still there for him when he looks again, and the creature is limp under his hand, finally fallen silent. It’s waiting, he realizes. Callum’s hands shake with fury, but he squeezes the stake harder and grits his teeth. “I give you mercy.” 

It’s a harsh motion, quick and decisive, and the creature turns to dust beneath his fingers. Callum is left gripping the worn wooden steak with angry tears in his eyes. Everything about this is wrong. Everything. 

He’s sick at heart as he stands, and as he goes back to the bar and pays his tab, and as he finds his way out to the stables and saddles his horse. There are monsters in their world, Callum knows this. But he will never again forget that the worst monster is and always has been humanity. 

It’s just one night in the course of his life, but Callum isn’t ever able to forget what he saw. And when he gets home and goes to collapse onto his cot, for some reason, the lab feels emptier than it ever has before.