#So season two won't be pulling any fast ones

[mistystarshine]

You know, it's a bunch of really small details, but if you read my fics closely, you can tell that I was functionally blind for a long time

[supershot73199]

So something I would like to point out is despite the shit we give him Danny is a fighting savant.

Like any time Danny is fighting with his feet planted on a surface he is pulling off badass martial arts maneuvers or kicking ass. Hell in the first episode he manages a roundhouse kick with enough force to basically cut through multiple meat monsters, and this is at his weakest in the show.

Like we say he fights like a feral racoon but that's only when he's fighting midair and how would he have midair combat training? Humans can't fly like that.

Still in the first season Danny catches Fright Knights sword barehand without a scratch! Boy is a badass.

When he was fighting with his classmates to rescue their parents in pirate radio he was the most competent one there until he let himself get thrown over the edge to give him an excuse to transform without anyone noticing.

Like sure he's getting dogged in this fight but not from a lack of skill, Danny gets several good hits in but he doesn't have the strength this early in the series to do any damage to Fright Knight. But then he not only catches the blade but disarms and judo flips him without getting cut by the blade once.

So I think it would be fun to have DC characters notice this he has the skill and he now has the power to back it up. Have Danny meet Wildcat the former boxer turned vigilante who trained both Black Canary and Batman in boxing.

So one thing that i would like to see is Danny in a similar situation like in the video, Deathstroke is literally a super soldier and mercenary so some rich bastard who Danny pissed off hires him to kill this kid i like the idea that danny is patenting a medical device that can be used to treat metas or non human biology and the rich guy is pissed Danny won't sell him the patent. Bat of your choice, I'm going with Cass, gets told by Oracle who hacked into the communications between the two but she's not quite fast enough to stop the fight from breaking out.

Danny is in his human form which limits his strength but he has skill enough fighting foes who are physically his superior. Cass shows up to see this random scientist holding his own against Deathstroke who earned his title of The Terminator. However before Cass can jump in Danny pulls off the disarming judo throw winning the fight.

Now Cass has a crush on this cute boy. Bruce is considering hiring an assassin himself (not really he's just being dramatic about his baby girl falling in love.)

[sophsbookstore]

Somebody Come Get Her

Lando Norris x driver!reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Masterlist can be found in navigation!

Word count: 1,627

“I'm literally fine!” She is not fine. Infact Y/N is the drunkest she's been in a while.

After placing in the points at the Montreal Grand prix, while simultaneously celebrating her friend's second place win, Y/N decided that getting absolutely wasted in Montreal was the best thing for herself to do.

“Y/N how many shots have you taken?” A concerned Lando Norris questions his best friend.

“This many.” Y/N says, holding up two middle fingers in front of Landos face.

Lando tried to hold in his laughter, Y/N wasn't a big party girl. Sure she would always accompany the rest of the grid out to parties after races, she usually doesn't drink that often, going a little crazy once a season, but never this crazy.

“I'm going to get you some water, please don't drink anything while I'm gone, okay?” Lando scolds Y/N. “Can I trust you won't do anything stupid?”. When the girl gives him a thumbs up he takes it as his sign to move, quickly walking to the bar, Y/N books it to the other side of the club, spotting a small group of wag’s sitting together.

Not even thinking twice she bolts to the other side of the tight Montreal club, speed walking as fast as her designer heels can take her. Lily Z spots her, not really the party girl herself notices Y/N practically falling over herself trying to get to them.

Laughing, Lily taps one of the girls on the shoulder, they all turn to face Y/N instantly getting up and running to the girl with drunken excitement.

“Holy fuck you guys are so hot.” Y/N blushes, giving each girl a compliment before finding Lily in the back of the group. Y/N clings onto the Australian for dear life, Lily doing her best to hold half of Y/N’s body weight.

The girls walk back over to their couch in the VIP section of the club, all of them talking over one another while house music blasts throughout the small room. Back at the bar Lando is constantly looking over his shoulder, trying his best to find Y/N, making sure she stays near him.

Just as he thought, when the bartender finally hands him his drinks she's gone. “Of course she's gone.” Lando scolds himself for thinking that she would have actually stayed.

Placing his hand over the top of her drink, Lando aimlessly walks around the club, trying to find Y/N so he can take her home. Back at the couch the girls are starting to move to the dance floor, all of them going crazy for the international house music being played on the speaker.

As Y/N spins around, her eye catches something in the middle of the club, a pole. The pole is placed in the middle of the club, sitting atop an LED podium. Throughout the whole night many people have drunkenly got on it and sloppily spun around. “Look!” Y/N shouts, all the girls following her line of vision to the pole.

“I need it!” before anyone can say anything Y/N sprints to the empty pole, practically jumping onto it before spinning around. The sudden movement of the pole triggers the people around to stare at the girl. For being absolutely wasted Y/N managed to do pretty well for herself, random girls at the club shoving money in her bra as her friends and random patrons cheer or record on their phones.

The sudden cheering alerts Lando, a big crowd of people move toward the center of the club, Lando turns, seeing what he feared most. Knowing this was going to be a PR disaster for Y/N if the videos got out he abandons her drink on a random table, moving quickly through the crowd covering any camera he can in the process.

“Excuse me, pardon me, sorry.” Lando says to complete strangers before making it to the base of the pole. Without a second thought he grabs her arm, pulling her into him. Drunk off her ass Y/N collides into Landos chest. “Come on, I'm taking you home.” Lando snakes his arm around Y/N’s waist, moving the two of them closer to the door as another girl jumps onto the pole.

“Why did you do that? I was having so much fun.” Y/N pulls away from Lando, folding her arms in front of herself, trying to get some stability.

“Y/N come on, you're too drunk right now.'' Lando puts his hands on his hips, the both of them knowing she has no chance in this fight.

“I'm staying, that's final.” Y/N turns away from Lando, walking back to the big group before suddenly she's swept off her feet. Lando kneels down next to Y/N grabbing her waist once more before throwing her over his shoulder.

Holding onto the back of her knees, Lando pulls his keys out of his pocket as he walks toward the exit of the club, eyes following the pair as they walk away. “Damn Lando, why didn't you ever say anything about this dumpy back here?” Y/N giggles, her face against his lower back.

Lando laughs, carrying her all the way to his car. He holds the door open for her, helping her into the front seat before buckling her in. Lando quickly moves to the other side of the car, typing in Y/N’s hotel a few blocks away, before starting the car and driving off.

“Oh shit!” Y/N shouts, pulling the money out of her stuffed bra. “I'm rich!” She cheers, throwing the money all over Landos car.

“Where did you get all of this?” Lando says, picking up a twenty from the dashboard.

“People just kept giving them to me, I ate.” Y/N shrugs. Lando smiles at the girl, Y/N turns her attention to the window beside her, resting her head against the glass as her eyes start to shut.

Lando plays some soft music to help Y/N fall asleep, within seconds she's out. The drive doesn't take long, about fifteen minutes, when Lando parks he takes a minute to admire the girl beside him, carefully tucking a loose hair behind her ear to wake her up.

Y/N stirs in her sleep, Lando whispering for her to wake up as he goes to her door to help her out. With a combination of alcohol and sleep deprivation it's a miracle Lando got Y/N to her room, avoiding eye contact with guests and staff on his way to the elevator. 

Lando lets the both of them into her room, helping Y/N into bed before placing Advil and water next to her bed. “You're so hot.” Y/N whispers, her glassy eyes stare at Lando.

“You're so drunk.”

“It doesn't mean I can't point out the obvious.” Y/N shrugs, closing her eyes and pulling the comforter close to her body.

“I'll see you in the morning, Y/N.” Lando smiles, setting up a “bedroom" for himself in the living room.

Lando spent the whole night thinking about Y/N, her dancing at the club, what she said before she went to bed. Lando has liked Y/N ever since they joined Formula 1 together, the two have always been inseparable, an iconic duo in motorsport. 

CLACK! “Fuck!” The sound of something falling, quickly followed by a semi quiet swear, wakes Lando up.

A shirtless Lando moves his head toward the sound, his gaze falling upon Y/N wearing a tank top and plaid pajama pants. The pair look at one another, Lando notices her wet hair and beautiful bare face.

“Goodmorning!” Y/N gives lando an awkward smile.

“Good Morning to you too.” Lando gets off the couch, stretching before walking over to Y/N, the girl's eyes looking him up and down before the two become face to face.

“Be honest, how drunk I was last night.” Y/N grabs a banana off the counter.

“Honest?” Y/N nods, wanting to know what stupid thing she did. “There was a pole at the club, it may have gotten a lap dance from a certain female driver.”

Y/N drops her banana, her face getting hotter by the second as she covers her mouth in shock. “No I didn't.'' Lando decided that he wouldn't tell her about how many strangers filmed the whole moment. “Please tell me that was it.”

“You told me I’m hot, which boosted my ego an unhealthy amount.” Lando laughs.

“Oh, that's not that bad.” Y/N shrugs, picking the banana up off the floor. “You are.” She starts unpeeling the banana, taking a bite out of it before going to get a cup of water.

Lando was shocked, too stund to speak. Y/N turns around laughing at Lando’s expression. “What, you seriously didn't know?”

“Know what?” The man quickly asks.

“I've had a crush on you for the longest time, I thought it was so obvious!” She finishes the water, throwing away the remainder of her breakfast.

“You gotta be kidding me.” Y/N stares at Lando, trying her best to read his emotions. “I've had a crush on YOU for the longest time!” Lando explains, both their smiles getting bigger and bigger.

“Well then what the hell are we waiting for!” Y/N steps closer to Lando. “Can I kiss you right now?”

“Always.” Lando replies, taking Y/N face in his hands before kissing her passionately.

“Finally.” Y/N says as the two pull away from one another. “But seriously, remind me to never drink in Canada again.”

[whorekneecentral]

Sous Chef

Yuki Tsunoda x Chef!Fem!Reader

Warnings: yuki's got a crush, daniel plays match maker, cooking lessons, sexual tension, sex in the kitchen, oral (f!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), cum play, finger sucking.

Word Count: 2,323

Author's Note: this is a random one, I won't lie to you. it's not very holiday based but it fit yuki so here we are :)) - also a very happy birthday to the queen of audios @2-fast-2-curious thanks for always being unhinged with me <33

merry smutmas series

--

Yuki finds himself more fascinated by the woman cooking than the food on his plate for once. 

The holiday season was underway and Alpha Tauri was hosting their end of season holiday party for all of their staff.

Anyone that knows Yuki, knows his love and appreciation for food. If there wasn't any room in the budget, they got rid of some things to make sure they could fit in a chef. They didn't cater, everything was made to order - something Yuki greatly appreciated.

The younger driver could see into the kitchen from the little cut out they had, the same spot that the waiters would pick up their dishes. She was young, she moved quickly around the kitchen and it seemed as if she was in there alone. He never fully saw the woman behind the doors, just a glimpse of her here and there.

Dinner had wrapped up and thankfully for the woman behind the closed doors, dessert would be a spread, something she could take her time and work on.

Everyone was mingling and Yuki left his seat, making his way to his teammate, Daniel. "Hey man," Daniel smiled at him.

"Hi Danny," Yuki returns the smile, "do you know who the chef was tonight?" He asks, straight to the point.

Daniel nods, "that's y/n, she's a friend of mine. Why?"

"She's fantastic, the food was really good." Yuki tells him, a smile on his face. Daniel glances over at the opened window before looking back to his teammate. "Yeah it was, wasn't it? You know you can go back and tell her that yourself."

"No," Yuki shook his head, "I don't want to disturb her."

"Oh please, y/n cooks at my place with my niece and nephew running circles around her," Daniel slings his arm over his teammate, "I promise you won't be disturbing her, c'mon."

The Aussie walks his teammate towards the kitchen, bumping the door open with his hip as they walk in. You were in the middle of pipping the custard into the tart tins, not bothering to look up and see who was there.

"Don't even think about it," you say, not looking but you do see Daniel's fingers reaching for the Christmas cookies you had set out to cool.

He tsks, making a face at you when you finally look up. "You're no fun," he says, pulling you into a hug. You squished into your friend's side, the man kissing your forehead. "Dinner was great," Daniel says, letting you go.

"Thank you, Danny."

"I've bought a new admirer for you," he raises his brows, looking over at Yuki, the younger driver waving shyly to you. "I'll leave you two to chat," Daniel says, snatching a cookie off the tray before running out the kitchen.

You shook your head at your friend's theatrics, looking at Yuki now. "Please, help yourself," you tell him, nodding towards the cookies on the counter.

He smiles, picking one up and taking a bite. You had gone back to filling the custard tarts when you hear a soft moan. "Everything okay?" You looked up, brows furrowed.

Yuki blushes, "this is so.. wow. I don't have the words."

You chuckled, "thank you."

"I'm Yuki, by the way." He says, sitting on the bench as he eats his cookie.

You smile, "I know, Daniel talks about you all the time." You set the tarts in the fridge, turning around to face him again. "I'm y/n."

"I know, Daniel also talks about you."

The two of you share a laugh, the man watches as you move about the kitchen and set up the last pieces of dessert. "I just wanted to give you my compliments, the food was amazing."

"Yuki, thank you." You smiled, your hand pressed to your chest. "That's a massive compliment coming from you."

"I can't really cook but I do appreciate a good chef when I meet one."

"Well, I'd be more than happy to teach you a few things if you'd like. I'm in London until Wednesday, then we're closed for the holidays so why don't you come by on Tuesday ?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to disturb you if you've got things to do."

You shake your head, "I'm inviting you, it won't be a disturbance. Please say you'll come by. I have a new recipe I want to test out, so I could use the feedback."

"If you insist," Yuki smiles. You nod, "I do, otherwise I will have to fatten up Daniel again and I won't hear the end of it."

"Okay," he nods, "just send me the address and the time."

"I will," you smile.

--

It's late, the restaurant's lights have already been dimmed and the chairs were stacked up on the tables when he walks in. The hostess was on her way out but she let him in, knowing you were expecting him.

"Y/n?" Yuki calls for you, making his way to the back of the restaurant. "Kitchen!" You shout back, you back turned to the door as you stirred something in the pot.

"Hey," he smiles, walking in.

"Hi," you waved, not turning around just yet. "Can you pass by that jar, the one with the gold lid?" Yuki picks up the jar, opening it and passing it to you. the contents were red, and liquid, he read the label; chilli oil.

"What are you making?"

"It's a new recipe, I told you I needed a taste taster," you smile, setting the jar down as you let the sauce boil on the stove. "How was the drive over?"

"Fine." He smiles.

"Good," you wiped your hands on the towel, "I have a few things to finish up and we can eat. Do you mind helping?"

"That's what I'm here for," he gives you a smile, walking over to the sink to wash his hands before returning. In the meantime, you had set up a few things to cut. "Just the peppers and celery." You tell him, cutting a piece of the celery to show him how big you wanted it and you cut a bell pepper, showing him how to do it.

Yuki starts cutting the celery while you turn the stove off, stirring what was in the pot. You watched as he moved onto the peppers, struggling to get them to the same size you had shown him.

"Like this," you stood behind him, your arms wrapped around him as you held his own hand, showing him. Holding the pepper with one hand, you helped him move the knife slowly, up and down as he cut the peppers.

Yuki can't focus on the peppers, he should - to avoid chopping off a finger but he can't help it. All he can feel is your body pressed to his.

Your cheek pressed to his to watch as he cuts them, finally finishing. "Good job, Yuki."

The simple phrase shook him. "Thanks," he whispers as you let go of him, picking up the chopping board as you add the chopped veggies into the sauce.

Yuki sits, asking if there's anything else he can help with but you assure him that you've got the rest. It takes you a few minutes but you finish up, sliding a plate over the counter to him.

"What do we think?" You asked, handing him a fork. Yuki nods, looking down at the food on his plate. "Smells good."

You stand across from the driver quietly, elbow propped up on the counter with his chin in the palm of your hand, watching as he cuts the piece of chicken sitting on top of the pasta. Yuki takes a careful bite, his face going through 6 different emotions, you aren't able to gauge what he was feeling. 

Brows raised as you wait for the final decision. "Well?" You asked, eager to hear what he thought.

Yuki wipes his mouth on the napkin, a smile on his face when he moves his hand, nodding. "Holy fuck.. that is.. wow."

"Yeah?" You smiled, and he nodded. "So good."

"Okay good, I wanted to make sure. It's a new recipe and I wasn't sure."

"It's perfect.. more than perfect." He says, mouth half full as he takes another bite.

You let Yuki finish eating as you tidy up. The man asks if you'll sit down to eat and you let him know that you already ate; you had a bad habit of eating bits and pieces there, never actually sitting down for a full meal.

Despite not helping to make the mess, Yuki offered to help you clean up. You two cleared up the trash and the leftovers, taking them into the fridge and making a bag for Yuki to take home. You decide to wash the few dishes left over from dinner and Yuki decides to hang around for a bit.

Yuki standing behind you, leaning on the counter as he watches you wash the dishes. Your hips bouncing from side to side along to the beat of the music you had playing

There's a tension in the kitchen, you wouldn't be able to cut it with your sharpest knife.

You ignored it, hoping it would go away but it doesn't. You know where it's come from but you aren't sure how to go about it.

Turning to face the man, he reacts before you could.

The man pins you against the counter, his lips find yours as his hand cups your jaw. Yuki's hands wandering across your body, tugging on the shirt you had on. 

Pulling and pushing, little by little the clothes end up on the floor. 

He lifts you onto the counter, your legs on either side of him as he steps between them. Rubbing up your thigh with one hand, the other pulls you by your chin to look at him.

Your eyes find his, watching as he sinks to his knees in front of you. 

Your hands are flat on the cold counter as you feel his tongue against you. His arms hook around your thighs, pulling you closer to him. Your hips jut forward when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his black hair. 

He glances up at you and you’re like an angel on earth to him right now; head tossed back, skin glistening under the white light of the kitchen, his head buried between your legs. 

Yuki mimicked his actions again until he can feel your legs shake, your grip on his hair tighter than before, his name strung along with the explicits leaving your mouth. 

He gives you a minute to catch your breath as he kisses his way back up to your face. He smiles as he stands, kissing you and you're even more ready than you were before. 

“This is wrong,” you whisper to him, eyes fixed on his hand that was wandering across your chest at the moment. 

His lips follow his fingers, kissing and leaving little marks as he goes along his way. His tongue brushes over your nipple, your back arches involuntarily; your body betrays you. 

“We can stop,” he says, a hand slipping between your legs.

You stop talking and pull him closer, kissing him once more; your way of telling him yes. He pulls you toward the edge of the counter a little more before he pushes into you. One ankle is over his shoulder and the other hooked around his hip. 

And once again, you were a sight to see; back arched off the counter, eyes closed and your head tilted back, his name tumbling from your lips for what felt like the millionth time.

Yuki has never seen a prettiest sight.

He feels you clench around him, the hand on his shoulder digs in, your nails leaving behind their own set of marks. His hand reaches between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit once again. 

“Oh my god,” your hips bucked, his fingers matching the pace of his hips, your body rocking back and forth to get the most out of him.  

“Yuki,” you groaned, eyes pleading with him, “please.” You beg, your hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Hold on baby, patience.” He tells you, hooking your leg on his hip instead of resting it on the edge of the counter. His lips met yours, a hand resting on your hip to keep you up as he fucked you. The further he pushes, your body just keeps welcoming him like he belonged there.

He can feel you squeezing his cock, your eyes fluttering closed. Yuki smacks your jaw lightly, “look at me,” he tells you. “If you want to cum, open your eyes.”

You give in, your eyes opening a little and Yuki's thrusts are sloppy, you know he’s just as close as you are. A few more thrusts and you’re over the edge, calling his name as you do.

“Where?” He asks, his head on your shoulder and you know it’s not gonna last. 

Your chest is heaving, barely able to hold yourself up, "anywhere."

It’s not long after, followed by a few sloppy thrusts, that Yuki cums too. The tip of his cock brushing between your folds, spreading his cum all over your pussy. He pulls away, smiling at the whimper he gets from you. His fingers replacing his cock, covered in his cum when you roll over, he sticks his fingers in your mouth and he doesn’t have to tell you what to do.

“Good girl,” he hums, watching as your tongue laps over his fingers. Yuki pulls his fingers away, leaning down to kiss you. A mess of the two of you, not sure where one of you starts and the other ends.

You take a minute to catch your breath, falling back against the counter. Yuki smiles, kissing you once more.

"I should cook you dinner more often." You whispered in the quietness of the kitchen.

Yuki laughs, "I'll thank you like that every time."

--

taglist:  @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

[soapoet]

how are you, october?

+3 Taylor Swift songs each because she's striving and so should you.

like & rb if it resonates ♡

Soapy scribbles: I already did a general energy reading for this autumn season here, but there's quite a bit of energies at play this autumn, so I felt the need to look at October specifically as it feels very important.

01.

Shufflemancy: Taylor Swift ‐ Don't blame me, I did something bad, Red.

How long have you kept the light on? Sitting there, staring at the door, waiting for someone who never seems to come? The radio is on, playing two stations at once. The flower petals all say maybe, not he loves me, he loves me not. You are frustrated and confused, yearning for clarity but outside the sun just won't rise and the only light is the one lit outside your house. Have you given your time at a discount, or is the free trial still running? Someone needs to draw the line in the sand further from the waves that keep washing them away. You want more, and for love to not feel like agony. Red is the colour of passion, both love and hate. I see you wearing their white t-shirt, your heart bleeding and staining it red as you watch them sleep. Safe and sound, whilst you howl to the moon. You're growing territorial. A desperate act to ward off the wolves that prowl your prey. You saw them first, but they don't seem to see you.

It seems as though your thoughts and feelings are silly until somebody else echos them, word for word, and then they're liquid gold. You're not a ghost, but you feel your outlines blur. Where do you end and where do they begin? You haunt their halls, but they're fast asleep and never notice a bump in the night. You've felt powerless, like the quietest poltergeist, unable to move and shake the silverware, never able to rattle the cupboards or the picture frames. Somebody treats you like they would give you their last name, yet make no such commitments, not a single step in that direction. It is all up in the air, and you feel like the rug beneath your feet will get pulled at any moment. Is it not tiring to lie awake, watching the shadows, wondering what beasts may strike if you let your guard down in slumber? Without certainty, you're the one in fear under the covers, certain it wasn't just the wind. Because in your experience, it never really is.

Do not sign the dotted line without examination of the fine print. Better yet, do not sell your heart and soul to someone who will keep you on a shelf, saved for a rainy day, but will not puncture breathing holes into the lid and care for you truly. Do not let yourself be kept for a season, wings clipped and left to asphyxiate in a jar. You have given enough benefits of the doubt, but nobody is so daft, so oblivious, they would not embrace love they find worthy and good. Do not let yourself be kept as an option or as something good enough until something better, new and shiny, comes along. Close up shop and demand full subscription for your time and effort. If they won't pay the price, you'll find better in no time whilst karma chews them out. Especially if you feel like you can't do better, or have felt like love keeps avoiding you and you're somehow faulty and too broken to be loved, there really is someone around the next few corners who won't play you like a game or stick around only in fair weather but your storms too. So don't settle, you deserve better than okay and fine and good enough. For a select few, there really is love here, but may be drowning in addiction or fears of some kind. Remember that you can't help someone who doesn't want help, because change is made when they want change. This change may very well be coming up in the near future, and wrongs may be made right slowly. If this is somebody you love, whether romantically or platonically, even in a familial sense, make sure you keep your head above water and put your own oxygen mask on first before helping another. You can extend a helping hand, but do so when they ask, not because you're expected to do it because you always have. New beginnings in old relationships are possible if you want it.

Additional details: Amethysts, Ayurveda, moths, mixed signals, love languages, uquizzes and other such tests, purple, blue, red, bus rides, tattoos, job offers, writing, poetry, thesis, message in a bottle, missing an ex, addiction, healing, birds and squirrels, starting over, second chances, reminiscing, old photos or journal entries or ig posts, synastry charts, girl in red, Phoebe Bridgers, Noah Kahan, Bishop Briggs, YA book series, maladaptive daydreaming, BPD, lighters, short trips, parties or other get togethers, double dates, life path 8, birthdays, sanrio, studying, Scorpio/Aries/Virgo/Capricorn/Pisces, 3H/4H/5H/12H, Saturn/Mars/Uranus, Lilith/Chiron, 25/89/222/555.

02.

Shufflemancy: Taylor Swift - Gorgeous, Paper rings, I think he knows.

Luck seems to be on your side, or it soon will be. After a long drought, you have stumbled upon an oasis. Prayers whispered in the dark, sometimes choked out by tears, are now proven to have been heard after all. Endless night and harsh winter is over, even though seasonally speaking it's right ahead of us in the northern hemisphere. In your life, however, you're coming out of a very long and hard winter. You have felt cold and lost, sometimes frozen in place, as though your icicle bones and frosted skin wouldn't let your body decompose when you thought you were dead. You were stuck up to your thighs in snow. Every step was a challenge, and harsh winds threatened you like frail branches bending and snapping in storms. Now the snow is melting, trampled into slush beneath your boots and making way for spring flowers to bloom.

Forward movement is happening in many areas of your life. New beginnings are popping up like wildflowers in a meadow for you to frolic in. You're making changes and changes are making you. Immovable objects begin to roll down the hilltop where you've felt stranded like a lone celltower sending and receiving signals. You may have felt in your heart and soul that the winds are changing. Your intuition has been wide open and receptive for some time now, hasn't it? But rooted in place unable to move you have felt unable to take action. That is changing now as not only can you move forward, but things you have wished for begin to arrive like ships to your shores. You sowed and nurtured the seeds and it is time to harvest your crops. If you have dealt with mental terrors and grief, you should see those slowly begin to heal, circumstances improve, and help becoming available to you and you finally feel ready and able to take it.

If you've been engaging in some good old fashioned yearning, know that it's a case of mutual pining. Someone whose freckles, birth marks, or scars you have mapped out like an astronomer the night sky in stolen glances has stolen just as many of you. Either one of you, perhaps both, have been closing doors as of late, gone through endings and made space for the new and found the keys to the doors once shut and chained and locked. There is a distinct sense of leveling up here, like entering a new region in a game at last when the requirements have been met, and you're now free to explore new and unknown territory. I see unwavering eye contact where before it was a game of cat and mouse. I see a church, two people side by side in the pews sharing quiet confessions. Words previously only thought find a voice and get spoken, not to the moon but the heart they were meant for. There can be some secrecy involved, but less like the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet it's keeping something sacred between two souls, keeping each other like an oath. Sheltering a flame, for some of you one rekindled, between four hands and promising to meet in the woods at night. This secrecy is not one grown from shame, but one of dedication. A solid foundation, a home and sturdy fortress is being built or rebuilt in the dark of the night so its eventual beauty and intricacies may be admired by all in the sun. You may have manifested this, or simply known this was inevitable. All you really had to do was accept it as fate and wait for it to unfold. This is a cozy kind of love, but also devout like two souls looking upon each other in reverence. It feels as close as it feels free. There's something to lean on but also room to grow. You hold each other tightly, but loosen the grip as needed, and always ready to catch the other if they fall. For some of you this marks the end of a third party situation, an entirely new love, and for others this is reworking an existing or past love with a new set of rules and making magic together after tough challenges.

Additional details: Full moon, abundance, sudden income, lottery luck, gifts, receiving or giving flowers, dancing, swimming, guided meditations, listening to higher frequencies, therapy or counselling, lists and plans, entrepreneurship, editing, finishing tasks, cats, rabbits and ferrets or rodents, pancakes and waffles, sunflowers and dandelions, espresso, heavy rain, holding hands, nostalgic scents or environments, coughing, PTSD, neurodivergence, artificial intelligence, fidget toys or stress balls, colouring books, arts and crafts, dainty jewellery, body language, law of assumption, dreams, blue, green, black, glasses, kpop, punk, indie, Stray Kids, Ateez, Dreamcatcher, Daft Punk, Sabaton, Avenged Sevenfold, Korn, Virgo/Leo/Cancer/Aquarius/Sagittarius, 1H/3H/5H/11H, Jupiter/Moon/Mercury/Pluto, North and South Node/Ceres, 12/13/33/555/888.

03.

Shufflemancy: Taylor Swift - The archer, Mean, Anti-hero.

Narcissus and Echo, a tragedy of old. You may have been at the mercy of fluctuating between the two. This can be a dance between you and another, or you and your own reflection. You may have pushed someone away. A friend, a family member, yourself, or an authority figure of sorts. Demanding they leave you alone, left them on read or never bothered to open their letters at all, after so long of clinging to their every word. Certain of your independence, a need to put yourself first, desperate self love wholly unrequited. Or perhaps you fought viciously for yourself, but your voice was never heard. As though you always needed someone else to speak your words for them to be taken as right and true. Perhaps you were sent on a glitched quest, "ask your mother" only met with "ask your father", leaving you in the uncertainty of the in between, alone and filled to the brim with unanswered questions and no sense of direction.

You have sought help, asked for assistance, asked all the right questions and really pushed your own cart forwards though it has been uphill. And something or someone always cast stones on your path forward, shoved stick between the wheels to make the process feel so hopeless. There are wounds that you bear that have been left unhealed for years. Still raw and bleeding you dry whilst you try to keep yourself together like cupping water in your hands as it spills through your fingers. But though your path is full of traps and spikes and is uncertain and winding, you know the way forward all within yourself. Because you carry with you the only light you need to find your way. You may cross paths with kind advisors who unseathe their swords to fight for you, and some of them may already be in your life. Those who see the injustice and tear down the thicket ahead to make way for you and protect you whilst you stitch your wounds and ready yourself for battle yourself. Accept the help, encouragement, and follow these kind mercenaries when you get lost. Allow them to carry your burdens when as Atlas you need a break from carrying the world upon your shoulders. Soon you'll be strong enough to do what you need to do. Be better, stronger, healthier, if not for you right now then for those who need you and cherish you and want you by their side in the quests of life. Eventually your actions will prove to be the best for you, and a faint portrait of a future you smiles upon your present self for your decision to keep moving forward.

If you need to put your foot down, do so in earnest. Shoo away guilt and shame, and let go of the idea that you must suffer in silence and weather unnecessary storms, speak when spoken to and follow another's commands so often not in favour of your own well-being. Fight your inner demons, but know you need not fight them alone. Dip a quill in ink and rewrite the rules. Break into the library which holds the book of life and black out that what does not serve you, and take ownership of your own story. If Narcissus treats you poorly, trample him under your foot on your way out the door. He is only a flower now and seasons change, and he will wilt and wither away as you no longer shine upon his petals.

Additional details: Violins, literature, art galleries, sisters and fathers, divorce, babies or children, psychotherapy, CBT, law, changing your name, lgbt+, jazz, classical music, Regina Spektor, Kate Bush, Tori Amos, Fiona Apple, borzoi, dog videos, playing instruments, writing a book, storytelling, unknown address, exotic animals, spiders, ED, OCD, teddy bears, squishmallows, studying for a test, doctor's appointments, funerals, chill covers/lofi, slowed/reverb/acoustic versions, subliminals, affirmations, lace, fuzzy socks or woolen socks, bruises, house plants, monstera, ivy, pothos, tea collection, cold hands, Taurus/Gemini/Libra/Scorpio/Capricorn, 2H/6H/8H/10H, Saturn/Pluto/Neptune/Venus, IC/MC, 17/23/95/11:11/000/444.

[rekino2114]

Ice cream date with fami

A/n:An anon requested fami relationship headcanons, and I will get to that as soon as I finish the other requests, but that made me realize how little x reader content there is of her so I wanna fix that also I guess this counts as a summer post.

Summer had arrived and seeing your girlfriend's love for food your first thought was to bring her to an ice cream parlor for a date.

"I'll take a bowl with every flavor you have"

"A-are you sure miss? That's a lot of ice cream"

"Did I stutter?"

You sighed and looked at the worker

"Just give her what she wants I'd like a [favorite ice cream flavor] cone"

After paying and taking your ice cream you two sat down on a nearby table and started eating.

"I don't get humans. If a food is this good, then why do you only eat it in one specific season"

"I guess you could have ice cream whenever you want, but since it's so cold, it's better to have it when it's hot, don't you think?"

"I suppose the heat is annoying"

You chuckled slightly

"Really? And I thought that you were used to heat being a devil and all"

"Hell is not actually that hot it's a misconception humans have"

"I see"

After fami answered you, she continued eating spoonfuls of ice cream one after another.

"I think you should slow down babe If you eat too fast you'll...."

Your girlfriend's interrupted you by grunting slightly and putting a hand on her head

".....Get brain freeze"

"What is this?"

"It's what happens when you eat ice cream too fast"

"Hm. This is the first time I have experienced a downsides to eating. Nevertheless, that won't stop me"

She continued to eat somehow faster, ignoring the pain in her head. You simply chuckled at this sight and continued to lick your own ice cream until you were interrupted by her monotone voice.

"Hey do you mind if I.....?"

You nodded, thinking she wanted a bit of your ice cream and used to her stealing your food

What you didn't expect was her getting closer to your face and kissing you deeply on the lips, licking every bit of ice cream while making sure you were enjoying the kiss.

You melted into the kiss, and after a few seconds, she pulled back, leaving a trail of saliva connecting your two mouths.

"You chose quite a good flavor, I might get that next time"

"If you wanted a kiss, you could have just asked for one"

"Very well then, could I get another one?"

"Of course"

She pressed her lips into yours again, even without any ice cream on them they still tasted amazing to her.

"We should probably finish the ice cream and go home before starting to make out"

"You're right"

You continued eating as a comfortable silence set in between the two of you, you looked at fami, even with bits of ice cream on her face and a few who fell on her shirt, she still looked beautiful.

"I love you"

She looked at you slightly surprised, quickly gulped down what she was eating, and answered.

"I love you too"

Even with her emotionless voice and expression you could tell she meant what she said.

"Even more than pizza?"

A small rare smile appeared on fami's ice cream covered lips

"Yes even more than pizza"

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Random Leon headcannons ♡

🩵▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎☁️▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎🩵

Leon listens to 'The Neighborhood' and 'Arctic Monkeys'. He occasionally throws in a little Elvis, too. His favorite songs are Void, Pretty boy (he secretly adores it when you call him that, he will never tell you though) Why'd you only ever call me when you're high, 505 and Devil in Disguise.

He loves, LOVES early 2000s rom coms. Think legally blonde, the proposal, 13 going on 30. It's such a guilty pleasure for him. Luis teases him about it a lot but Leon knows the shit Luis watches is way worse. (Luis is a hallmark movie enthusiast, fight me) 

He is very insistent on a weekly game night with you, Ashley and Luis. Chris and Claire show up too, from time to time. He's such a sucker for boardgames, but if he loses... don't except kisses for the rest of the night. Most of the time he can't help himself though, he just has to kiss you. He seriously crumbles so fast when he's with you.

The biggest snorer out there. He has given you a heart attack or two at night. You gently nudge his leg and usually  he'll roll over and stop, pulling you close. He feels so, so guilty when you walk into the Kitchen with the darkest rings around your eyes because he kept you up with his snores. You assure him that it's fine and you'll just take a nap later. You're just happy that he's getting sleep.

His favorite season is summer. He loves going to the beach and swimming.(it's totally not because you wear skimpy summer clothes) Has played mermaids with you before, may have gotten a little handsy and made it the explicit version of mermaids. Lemon sorbet is his favorite summertime refreshment. He has definitely given you head after he had ice cream and put you on cloud nine. 100% collects shells for you.

He's such a dog person. It has to be a big dog, though. Like a Bernese mountain dog or a Newfoundland. He loves squishing their cute little face. Is the best dog daddy ever, he's so excited when he gets to cuddle with his fluffbuddy, and you of course. Having a dog gives him a feeling of domesticity that he's always longed for. He wouldn't mind a cat, he likes them and never passes on an opportunity to pet one but he's a dog person at heart. If you get him a puppy, he's the happiest man in the world.

Loves to have little kitchen dates with you, aka you cook dinner together and he twirls you around the kitchen and sways with the music. Usually a glass of wine is involved too. You're also wearing matching Pajamas.

Has such a sweet tooth. He looks like a BBQ chips kinda guy but he loooooves sweets. If you like baking and do it frequently he's on his knees. Refuses to eat any other baked good ever again because "they can't compare to yours". Do not leave your baked goods unattended, they will be gone by the end of the day.

Oddly, he enjoys going grocery shopping. He will always push the cart for you and pay. You have tried everything to convince him to let you pay but he straight up refuses and shuts it down immediately. He will spoil you to the high heavens, even if that means just paying for veggies lmao.  Again, there's something so domestic about going grocery shopping with you, it makes him so happy and fulfilled.

Huge Sleeper. Sure, if he has to get up early for his job or run on just a couple hours of sleep he can manage that just fine but he'd sleep for the whole day if you'd let him. On the Weekends, he does not get out of bed before 2 pm so won't you. He will have such an iron grip on you, leaving the warm embrace of the bed is impossible.

🩵▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎☁️▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎🩵

[kangaracha]

CATSKIN for @feelbokkie

prompt felix + twisted fairytale (catskin)

TW for blood, minor character death, mentions of sexual assault, medieval type violence

word count 4444

---

I.

When first you meet, it is like two stars colliding - like the sun and the moon dancing around each other in the sky, and love at first sight is a dream for foolish, insipid children and you know that to be true, but...

Maybe in this moment, you forget. Maybe you see his face, warm against the cold ice of the cape that falls over his shoulder, or maybe you watch the soft curve of his mouth as he laughs at something his brother says, standing so subtly apart from the crowd that no one notices they are there. Maybe your eyes meet across the room, sun-warmed brown to striking blue, and time stills and the dance stops and your heart thinks that here and now, nothing else could matter but the taste of his name on your tongue and knowing what his hand would feel like in yours.

But this isn't real. The ballroom is crowded, and he is a familiar face you have never met, and you are a stranger with the moon draped over your shoulders for the night. The band strikes up a dance, a lively rhythm that swings fast and slow, and you are swept into the rush of the current, your feet moving in a pattern that they know from heart. Your hands are still stained with coal; you take every suitor's hand palm-down, hiding the black stains that won't quite scrub from already-dark skin, and you waltz without meaning until pale, slender fingers take yours and hold them tight, tugging you from the dance before you can be passed on to the next partner in line.

"Wha-" you begin, and then you look up into the eyes you've dreamed of for days and months and years and forget what you were going to say at all.

"Sorry," he says, and drops your hand with all the haste you'd expect someone like him to once he looked close enough to see the lie shivering beneath your skin. "I just wanted to know your name, before I lost you in the crowd."

Love at first sight is a story mothers tell to put their children to sleep at night, and you have lost all your senses because in that moment, your mouth opens as if to answer him.

"There you are," a voice says behind you, too sweet to be any you know; and an arm loops through yours, and here is Hyunjin suddenly, jewels dripping from his brow and a fire burning in the back of his eye where only you know what it is for. "It's so like you to wander off. Come on; our friends are looking for us."

"Before you go-" says the mouth you'd seen laughing from across the hall, the prince it belongs to reaching out a hand - but you are already gone sliding away through the crowd that fills his ballroom from wall to wall with more dazzling finery than you've ever seen in your life.

"That was close," Hyunjin breathes in your ear, and there is the voice that you recognise, liquid fire and undertones of dark shadow. "You're supposed to avoid him, you know."

"I know," you mutter and allow yourself to be swept away, all thoughts of love and the sun and the electric feeling that had jumped from his hand to yours swept to the side.

II.

The king likes the ballroom to be full and the people to be colourful, and he likes the crowd to be lively.

The wine flows freely for the last day of the summer, the lords and ladies stripped of their cautious humours and careful tongues. Their laughter is raucous as you slip out into the garden, the sun pulled over your shoulders in lengths of fine silk that cut away the cold wind that bites at your exposed skin. Already, the trees have begun to turn and the grass is wet with the season's rain; you stand in the centre of an autumn scene and watch the leaves flutter and fall, the light of the lanterns glittering from your skirts and the swirl of beading across your breast, woven from the finest gold.

"It's you," says the man beneath the tree; and when he steps out into the light, dressed again in pure white, you forget to pretend that you hadn't seen him, or that you'd simply come out here to breathe in air that wasn't stifled by the laughs of a thousand other people. "I was looking for you, you know."

"Were you?" you ask with the curve of a smile, your tongue loosened by the quiet of the cooling night and the seclusion of the garden. "Or could you just not find someone to dance with?"

You'd seen him earlier, standing at the edge of that floor. Gently turning away the hands of countless maidens in gowns that dripped in jewels under the guise of speaking to his brothers, searching the crowd with his eyes at every moment he thought that eyes weren't watching him. The guilty smile that plays on his face says that he knows exactly what you are thinking of; the step that he takes within your reach says that he isn't going to hide it. "Maybe I was waiting for the right person," he says, and then his cheeks turn pink in embarrassment, his eyes sliding momentarily away from yours.

"You'll waste your entire night if you think like that," you tell him lightly, and then you glance over your shoulder at the doors to the ballroom - to give him a moment to himself, you tell yourself, and pretend that it wasn't because you thought you felt the creep of Hyunjin's watchful gaze over the back of your neck. There is no one at the door though, no one watching through the backs that are turned to the glass. Only he can see you here, the sun standing in the middle of the night's darkness.

"I never got to ask your name the last time I saw you," he says; and with a start that jolts up your spine like electricity, you turn back to him. 

"I never got to ask yours either," you say, in lieu of the answer that you cannot give him. Never mind the danger of him recognising you too closely after this night - if he mentioned to Hyunjin the name of a girl he'd met in the garden, if Hyunjin knew what you were doing between the tasks you'd been given...

"Everyone knows mine," he scoffs; not because he thinks so highly of himself, but in the reluctant acceptance of someone who had never known a moment of privacy. "You can't have come to the woodlands knowing so little."

"And what if I didn't?" you question, playing along on this string of a conversation rather than letting him turn it back around to the question he'd really tried to ask. "What if I'd simply come here to enjoy the night, and seen a man across the room that I thought I'd like to know?"

His smile grows wider, his eyes softening. You like the way that smile looks on him. "Then I'd tell you my name is Felix," he tells you. "And I'd probably ask you to dance before we met like this, out here in the garden where no one is looking. And it probably wouldn't be such a scandal if we were seen either."

"That doesn't sound like as much fun though," you say. "Isn't it much more interesting to meet like this, than to have it all planned out?"

"Are you someone that likes trouble?" he asks, head tilted to the side in question; and the words seem cautious, probing, but he draws in closer again anyway, enough that his hand can brush yours in the folds of your dress.

"Maybe I am," you tease, your heart fluttering and jumping around in your chest like a nervous rabbit. "Aren't you?"

"I think I could be," he says, and his hand brushing your chin is followed by his lips brushing yours; and it is only a question, a stepping across boundaries that promises to rescind immediately if you push him away, but love at first sight is a dream and you think maybe, in another life, you might have been a terribly indulgent dreamer.

You kiss him with all the certainty that had driven you to this point, this garden and this night and this man, and his lips are soft and he smiles too much, and his hands are hesitant to wander, but you've already tried hot, heady passion and men who take what they want. Soft is new, and questioning sends a shiver down your spine, and you think this is a better man. 

And then you stop because you remember, but you play it off as the toll of the bell startling you from a daydream. "I have to go," you say, which is true, and then, "I hope you find someone to dance with tonight," which is not.

"Will I see you again?" he asks; and it's notable, you think, that he doesn't reach out of try to stop you. That he accepts on face value that you are telling the truth and that, even though his eyes say they want you to stay, his mouth would be rude to ask.

"Maybe," you say, the word drawn out like honey dripping long and slow from your tongue. "If you have another ball."

He laughs, his eyes squeezing closed with the pain of it. When they open again, you make sure you are gone from his sight.

You're pretty sure you dropped something like your heart there in the courtyard, but you don't dare to go and get it back. Not yet.

III.

You're cutting through fine hallways of tapestry and stone from the garden, your basket filled with vegetables and your face streaked in dirt. You aren't supposed to be here - a scullery maid shhould be in the dark spaces between the walls, scurrying up and down steep and spiralling stairs, but you're late and the cook is a stone-faced woman with a tongue made for lashing, and you hadn't thought-

The prince stops to look at you, confusion furrowing in his brow as he stares at your face. Recognition; except that today you are hiding under the brown of the dirt and the mantle of wild fur, cobbled together from the backs of many animals but none so fine as te ermine that lines his coat. 

Your heart sinks even as it pounds in alarm at the thought of him finding out what you are and where you've come from. It is a disaster if it happens, surely, but at the same time - maybe you'd tricked yourself into thinking that he remembered you the same way you did him. Or maybe he had tricked you, with the way he'd so quietly given you his name in the garden, the earnesty with which he'd nearly asked you to stay.

"Your highness?" Hyunjin asks at his shoulder, dressed all in his own princely regalia, and Felix turns away. And for a moment you hate Hyunjin, as you slip to the side of the hall where your feet should be, out of the way; because how could he be so beautiful, and so detached and so true to his beliefs that he could play the prince, and you are so suited to fur and treachery that you stand here a maid?

"Sorry," Felix says, to Hyunjin and not to you, and pretends to move on. You can see his eyes flick back again as he leaves though, trying one last time to see past the furs and the dirt, to place where he has seen you before.

You can see Hyunjin's too, piercing when they look directly at you. Warning, that you are overcomplicating things. That this is all about to be a mess, and you are no longer prepared for it. 

Your ire rises again. You know what has to happen, and what he will do to facilitate it, and you know your own roll. You know it all has to end. Who is he, to think you can't carry through on a promise? Who is he to doubt you?

IV.

The final coat is made of feathers plucked from the birds of the sea cliffs, tawny brown and ochre and cream. Hidden in the tunnels of the castle, Hyunjin tucks a sprig of samphire into the curl of your hair, picked from the edge of the world before you had left and wrapped carefully in paper made for preserving these kinds of things. A piece of home, brushing up against your ear every time you turn; a signal to those that you have let in the back door that you are a friend, in case you are caught in the havoc.

"What happened to your hands?" he asks as he steps back to look at you, his own lifting your wrists so that he can see the black marks on your fingers.

"There was grease on the gate lock, to stop it sticking," you reply. "It doesn't wash off like blood does."

He drops your hands just as fast as he'd picked them up, his eyes scanning the feathers again. As if it was this coat that you'd worn when you'd taken a knife to the man at the gate, as if he would find evidence of the blood on your hands smeared across the vanes if he only turns you this way and that. Silly of him, really - the edge of the fur coat was the one that bared the stains. The fur was made for the work of the hands. The feathers were only sent as a signal, a draw of the eyes, dropping in the path of your feet as you walk towards the ballroom.

"Stay away from the prince," Hyunjin warns you, his attention turning in the direction of his own path to the party. "He's looking for a particular girl that he saw last time. He'll have eyes everywhere."

"Not on the ground though," you answer, shaking out the coat and watching a feather of mottled brown drift to the floor. You ignore the way that your stomach dips at the mention of a girl. You neglect to mention that the girl he's looking for might be you, and the rouge brushed across your cheeks and the glitter of gold on your eyelids will only draw his eyes. 

You should have worn the dirt and hidden in the shadows, but that's not how they had prophesised it. The witches had whispered of a feather coat and a dress made of the sun and a moonlight shawl, and you'd been the one foolish enough to wear them, and no one in those rooms had been able to resist the magic of them, least of all the prince.

"Time to go," Hyunjin says as the bell tolls seven, and with one last look between you, you turn your seperate ways. 

You don't know where his heart resides, but you know that yours is in your throat. You hope that he survives the night. You hope that whatever he came here for is worth what it is going to cost.

V.

At the moment the ballroom bursts open, the black soldiers streaming in from every entrance, you are looking at the prince.

You hadn't meant to. You had taken Hyunjin's advice, as much as it grated at you to do it, and you had avoided him, skirting around the edges of the room while he searched in all the wrong places for you, dropping your feathers where the feathers wanted to fall and hiding in crowds of garish colour that sniffed and sneered at your coat of soft brown; but even though you don't wear the sun or the moon, you still orbit around him and him around you when you are in this room, and to stay away from him was-

Impossible, in the moment when you turn and there he is, right on your tail like the hunters following the birds to their nests in the cliffs, willing to jump from the rocks just to collect the eggs that might hide below. Except that he wasn't here to steal from you, or to catch you in his hands and tame you - he only thinks that you are beautiful, or that he could love you if only you gave him a chance.

And then the feathers ruffle and shift in the breeze, and the doors open, and the room fills with the men of the sea, axes and knives glinting in their hands and white teeth snarling within their faces.

Eerie silence falls as the room stutters to a halt, the shiny, red-faced aristocrats turning to stare at the army that have entered their sanctuary. The first one falls by the main entrance, his wine arcing through the air as he tumbles to the ground under the sharp blade of an axe; and then they scream, and they move in every direction, and in the maelstrom of silk and chiffon and eyes of horror you lose sight of the prince.

Slipping across the room is like fighting upstream against a raging river, ducking between bodies and around blades that don't have time to see the samphire behind your ear. You fade away into the one hallway you hadn't marked with a feather, disappearing into the black of the walls and the twisting tunnel down to the kitchens where just moments ago maids had scurried out to deliver the feast, and your heart breaks at the red-suited body that tumbles in on your heels, the eyes of a man in armour of beaten iron that take in your feathers and your face and turn away, back to the bloodbath, but you can't go back. You can't save him. 

And then a gutteral cry echoes down the tunnel, and a body blocks the light that flickers from its entrance, and there he is, your prince. His eyes are scared and his mouth open as he gasps for breath, the little knife he'd used on your countryman held in a white-knuckle grip in front of him as if he thinks he might need it again at any time. Blood splatters the front of his snow-white coat, tarnishing the pearls and sinking into every fibre of the cotton and wool that holds it together.

"It's you," he gasps between breaths, the words reverberating from the stone walls. "I found you."

"You-" you begin to say, but the words are lost in the storm of thoughts that cloud your mind, the race of scenarios that you can imagine coming from this unfateful meeting, this turn in the story that was never anticipated. Every step has been told to you up until now - the coats, and the feathers, and the rush of men into the ballroom that leads to the fall of a kingdom - but no one said a word about this. About him, the prince, the hands that now cup your heart to their chest, and the knives at his back as he stands there, just one step shallow of safety.

You think too much about what has happened and what could happen next, but you don't think at all when you reach out and grab him, dragging him down the tunnel and into the darkness, where only sporadic lanterns burn to guide the way. Around this corner and then that, down a staircase so steep that countless girls have broken their necks tripping on its uneven stones, into the warmth and light of the kitchen, where the smell of the pig roasting over the fire fills the air and the stack of pots waiting for you to wash them later in the night teeters towards the ceiling, stacked in one corner by several pairs of careless hands.

No one is here. They'd timed it deliberately for the arrival of the feast, when the attendants of the ball would all reconvene from the corners of the palace to the ballroom to fill their already ample stomachs. Incidentally, this meant that the kitchen staff were all in attendance too, arranging dishes under the watchful eye of the cook, which meant that when you tried to hide a prince in the kitchen-

"Wait," he says, dragging back against your hold on his arm. "Wait, I know a way out of the castle. I can take you where it's-"

"No," you cut across him before he can finish, and you tug at him again, dragging him step by step towards the maid's quarters. "They're in the hidden tunnels too. There's no way out."

He's so surprised that he forgets to resist you, his body going slack with his jaw and his feet following you across the room. "How do you know that?" he asks.

You don't dare to look back at him as you enter the room you share with the other girls, as you open the little chest-of-drawers that holds everything you brought with you (but not everything you own) and you pull out the clothes you wear day-to-day - grey trousers and a cream shirt slowly staining brown, and the coat of a thousand furs, its edges stained with fresh blood. "Put these on," you order him, shoving them into his arms without looking him in the eye, and then you turn your back.

"I wouldn't punish you for pretending to be from the court," he says to your back as he changes, the white jacket thrown to the dusty floor and then his shirt and breeches. "Or for knowing whatever you know. You saved my life." His boots are too nice to be a servant's, but yours won't fit him; you reach for Alice's old pair while he is busy, set neatly at the foot of her bed, and hand them to him when he is done, picking up the clothes he has discarded instead.

You saved my life too, you should say of the man he had killed, to keep up the illusion, but the lie seems wan in the face of the truth you are going to have to admit to him by the end of the night. You stalk past him instead, headed to the fire with the truth and the lies still sitting sour on your tongue.

The shirt and pants burn easily, the leather of the boots slow to sink between the logs that fuel the flame. You hesitate a moment before throwing the coat in after them, eyeing its precious pearls and hand-woven patterns of leaves and swirls. A silver brooch pinned to the lapel catches your eye; your thumb runs over it, feeling the careful details its maker has pressed together and the chips of diamond that embed its surface.

"That was my mother's," Felix says behind you, a certain grief hidden in the stiffness of his voice. "But you can burn it if you have to."

"I don't have to," you reply, and you work it free of the fabric with delicate and practised fingers. The coat feeds the flame; the brooch pins onto your dress, just above your heart.

 "Pretend to be a servant," you say as you turn to look at him. Your hands reach out to fix his coat, to smear the soot from the fireplace into his golden curls and down his cheeks. "I can't keep you alive if you're a prince, but if you're just a boy from the kitchens-"

His hands catch yours as they slip from his face, the ash that clings to your skin staining his as he grips them tight. "Who are you?" he questions. "What have you done?"

Tight-lipped, ashen-faced, you look up into his eyes - pale blue to forest brown, liar to honest truth. "I'm the feathercoat," you say, as if he will understand the words of a fable that people only whisper over the sea cliffs and the raging storms of the ocean. "I'm the one that brings the woodlands to their knees. I'm-"

Your voice chokes in your throat, your fingers growing numb from the force of his grip on your hands. There's a knife still tucked into his waistband - there's a knife behind him, stuck by its tip into the surface of the cutting board. You only have your feathers, and the excuses that stack up in the back of your throat; that the witches told us it would be so, or your land is the only gift my father will accept in place of a marriage to that man, or haven't you seen the way your father encroaches on our cliffs? Haven't you seen the way your farms destroy our hills and valleys and pollute our river? But those are all reasons that blame someone else, and you are the one that stands here, and the grease from the gate stains your fingers, not theirs-

"I loved you," he says, and he lets go of you like he has been burned. "I saw you across the room, and I thought no one could be so beautiful, and you can't even tell me the truth when-"

A shout echoes down the hall you'd escaped from, the rattle of armour and the thunder of heavy boots against the floor. "Wait," you say to him, a hand suspended in the air between you. You're afraid to touch him, when he could reach for that knife - when he deserves to see your blood run, for what you have done - but you can't let him run to his death all the same. "Wait until we live, and then I'll tell you, and then you can kill me. But wait. Take my hand and wait."

He hesitates, his eyes wary like he doesn't believe you, but the man on the stairs shouts again, calling for someone to follow him, and the fear shoots right into his heart and his hand slides into yours, his pulse fast but his fingers cold. 

"I don't want to kill you," he says, like a promise you can't believe he will keep. "Just keep me alive, and when the sun comes up, tell me everything. Please. I don't have any reason to kill you if everyone here is already dead."

"I will," you reply, and this is a promise that will be kept, whether or not he reaches for the knife when the light of the dawn comes. "I love you too, you know. I didn't mean to hurt you."

And yet, you have. And yet, the guilt and the feathers eat you alive.

---

PERMANANT TAGLIST

@amyyscorner @kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @keepswingin @rylea08 @puppysmileseungmin @thatonedemigodfromseoul

[i-read-and-write-barely]

Scarves

You crochet scarves for the members of TFW, how do they react?

This is written more so as headcannons. All the characters are separate.

Day 3. Scarves.

Dean Winchester.

You crocheted a scarf that references Baby, the colors are mostly black and white and there's a mini impala on each end of the scarf.

Dean absolutely adores it, when he first receives it he's stunned for a little while. But he does immediately put it on.

He starts bragging to anyone who will listen. Which means Sam and Castiel get an earfull. All they hear for at least 24 hours is how amazing you are.

Doesn't care if the edges are a little wonky, or if the stitches are a little uneaven. He is positively smitten with what you've made. Although he does do a good job at pretending he isn't over the moon because of such a simple gift.

Even when the cold season is over he tries to get away with wearing it, until you tell him he's likely to get a heat stroke then he begrudgingly puts it away, but he does keep it near him on the off chance he finds a colder area.

Starts using it as a comfort item, whenever you or he is in a stressful situation he keeps the scarf as near to him as he can as a reminder. You don't even think he realizes that he's doing it.

Sometimes since he frequently goes out to eat fast food stains might get on the scarf, he does his best to clean it though. He even asks Sam for cleaning tips.

If anyone dares to try and insult or be rude about your creation he's throwing hands. No hesitation. He won't kill them but no one gets away with insulting a gift from you.

He might use the scarf sometimes to pull you closer to him, he's not much of a fan of pda but when he gets a chance and feels comfortable he'll lasso you closer and give you a kiss.

All in all he's more of a show not tell kinda guy, he may not verbally say it much, but he does show how much he loves your gift.

Sam Winchester.

You make a scarf that is marked to the brim with wards against everything supernatural that you know.

Sam immediatly adores it, although if something is wrong with the wards he will point it out to you, just for future reference.

On more than one occasion that scarf has pulled him out of a bad situation. You are more than happy to remind him of this if he ever tries to nitpick the stitches.

Despite the small flaws he wears your gift with pride. And if you ever need advice on anything crochet he is happy to assist, he'll learn a whole knew stitch just to try and help you.

Offers to make you a scarf as well if you want to go out matching together, the scarf he makes for you is... functional. But the lines are just a touch wonky. Not that you mind.

Togther you both make a pattern for others to follow in case they ever need an all in one ward. And every so often you might meet a fellow hunter who has a similar scarf to you two.

On occasion a creature (mostly demons) might try to insult your gift. They are quickly delt with. Sometimes with the demon trap on the scarf.

If the scarf ever tears or gets dirty Sam will find a way to repair it. And if he can't then he goes to you and asks of you can make him a new one. You obviously do and he is very careful with the second one. (Although he never throws away the first scarf.)

The scarf is typically never very far away from Sam at any point in time, especially in the colder months. But in summer Sam will pack it away, only to immediatly bring it back at the first sign of a chill.

Overall he may be a little picky over your work but you will know he adores it whole heartedly.

Castiel.

You make Castiel a scarf that has a winged cat on it. For no other reason than cats are cute, and wings are pretty.

Cas is initially confused. As an angel he doesn't really need to worry about getting cold so making him a scarf isn't required.

However he does appreciate the gift and understands it as a mark of your affection. So he wears it with pride. Even in the summer. You'll have to argue with him if you want him to take it off when warm days hit.

Even if your stitches are lopsided or really tight on one side and fairly loose on the other, Cas won't notice. All he sees is your love, tightly bundled into one woven object.

If the scarf ever gets damaged or dirtied, he'll use his grace to return it to a normal state. Under no circumstance shall he ever allow it to be destroyed.

Sometimes if you're cold he'll wrap the scarf around both your necks, (being careful to not accidentially strangle you in the process.) as you can imagine this does look a little funny but it does make you laugh, so it's a win in Castiel's book.

While he might not understand everything about human traditions he does try to make you a gift in exchange. A tiny replica of the cat with wings that's on his scarf. It's a little wonky but it's adorable and you treasure it fully.

Cas "accidentially" brags a lot to Dean about the gift. Talking about the craftmanship, the love, and the warm fuzzy feeling it gives him to wear.

If anyone tries to take the scarf away they immediatly get reprimanded. No one gets to take what you made for him.

Overall Cas loves your work, and he only sings the highest of praise for it.

[joelswritingmistress]

Last Halloween: Chapter 3

Summary: After a tragedy involving Joel happened on Halloween one year prior, the town now shuns him while ignoring the details of the now closed case. You are seemingly the only one to offer empathy to a man the town is making out to be a monster.

Warning: Angst, mild language

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

"He's coming?" Your friend Jessie asked, practically letting her jaw drop to the floor as she adjusted her cowboy hat in the mirror.

"Shh." You put a finger to your lips and pulled on a pair of black spandex for your cat costume. "I don't want to tell Winnie or Chris." You knew they would give you a hard time, but Jessie was a little more open minded.

"Okay, okay." She pretended to zip her lip. "I won't say anything."

"Thank you." You tossed on a black shirt with lacy sleeves before grabbing the cat mask. After Jessie checked herself out once more in the bathroom mirror, you reached for your keys. "Let's boogie," you whispered.

The ride over was focused on Joel talk, and you didn't particularly mind. You were kind of itching to talk about him.

"Are you into him?" Jessie asked.

You weren't a good liar so you were honest, despite the potential backlash. After that motorcycle ride it was like a switch had been flipped inside of you.

"Yeah. I mean, I think so."

"Wow." She giggled, "It's so.. random. Not judging. I just.. wow. Why?"

"Why?" You shrugged as you drove. "He gave me a ride on his motorcycle earlier and-"

"Wait, what?" She grabbed your forearm without even realizing it.

You laughed. "We rode around town and then he drove me back to pick up my car at the junkyard. That's why I was so late getting home."

"How old is he?"

"I'm not sure."

"He's a least ten years older than us. Probably more."

You shrugged again. "I'm just feeling things out. I really just want him to have a friend." You turned to look at Jessie for a quick second. "Ya know?"

"Oh, I know." She chuckled. "A friend with benefits."

You laughed and swatted at her. "Cut it out."

"Just let me know what color bridesmaid dress I should wear."

You rolled your eyes with a grin and the two of you had another laugh.

The sign for the tavern came into view by the road side and you pulled into the parking lot, allowing your car to merge in with all the others. You both reached for your purses in the back seat and then headed toward the door that led inside.

On your walk up you heard someone call out your name and turned to see the man in the plastic scarecrow mask. Joel. Seeing him there alleviated any anxiety that lingered on the chance of him not showing up. He *had* showed up, and you knew how big of a step that was for him.

"Hey!" You greeted him with a hug and he partially lifted the mask as your roommate began to introduce herself. A moment later, the three of you were walking inside, welcomed by the beat of the old time seasonal song, Midnight Monsters Hop.

"I'm gunna go get a drink," Chrissy shouted, using her thumb to motion toward the bar that was overflowing with ghouls, ghosts and everything in between.

"Okay." You gave a thumbs up and looked to Joel. "Want a drink?"

He nodded, "Yeah, sure."

You reached back behind you for his hand and felt that similar electricity from before when he took it.

Up at the bar you flagged down the bartender.

"I'll do a vodka soda and.."

"A Bud Lite," Joel added, reaching into his wallet. Like his habit at the coffee shop, he paid with cash despite your attempts to try to pay for the round.

You looked at one another and without saying a word, you tapped your glasses together and then took a sip from your drinks. Joel hesitantly lifted his mask partway. You felt so bad for his inability to be free.

When another old Halloween song came on by The Dead Kennedys, you pulled Joel with you into a crowd of people who had begun to dance along to the rock music.

The beat was fast and upbeat. Without thinking you shoved Joel playfully with a grin with one hand to his chest and then closed the gap again and began to dance right next to him.

A moment later he was following your lead. He was having fun. You were having fun. The dim lighting in the bar was intersected by strobes of oranges, greens and purples, highlighting your every move.

When Joel really began to relax you could see it in his body language. He was dancing around, grabbing your hand to twirl you and being less cautious about lifting his mask to take a sip from his beer.

The rock music never seemed to let up. You needed a break from dancing as sweat began to make your face glisten. You eyed an old photobooth in the back corner of the bar and reached for Joel's free hand again, towing him with you.

When you pushed your way through a pale, white curtain you pulled him down into a seated position beside you and inserted a five dollar bill into the money slot beneath the camera screen.

With the first 3-2-1 countdown on the screen, you both kept your masks on and you stuck out your tongue. For the second photo, Joel lifted his mask so it sat on the top of his head and he managed a half smile. For picture number three, Jessie came out of nowhere, leaping into the booth for a photobomb and then exiting just as quickly.

You were laughing. Joel was laughing. You were both genuinely enjoying the night. Seconds later, the pictures developed and you took a copy while handing one over to Joel.

He kept his mask up as you pulled him back out into the bar where you resumed dancing. The energy was fiery. You loved every minute of it. More so, you loved seeing Joel at ease and having fun. Prior to recently you had never even seen him smile.

That night, in the freaky, flashing strobe lights, things felt perfect - as perfect as they had felt on the back of Joel's bike a few hours earlier. You knew this was manifesting into one of those nights - the type of night you looked back on that was on the border of magical, at least the type of magical that existed in real life.

It was everything. The music, the lighting, the look on Joel's face as his eyes found yours and never left. You were two giddy children that night and it felt so damn good. Never in a million years did you think you'd be able to get him out of his shell.

A break in the song left the two of you breathing heavy with smiles.

"Want another drink?" He shouted.

"Sure." You smiled, and a ringing stuck in your ears with the brief absence of loud music. The next song quickly picked up and Joel smiled, squeezed your hand and then made his way through the crowd.

"Another round, please," you heard him order.

Your eyes were on him as he stood there by the bar. You still smiled. He was contagious; perhaps the definition of a diamond in the rough. Joel Miller was.. dreamy.

"Hey killer." A voice interrupted your temporary euphoria. It wasn't directed at you. It was directed at Joel. Your daydream was suddenly interrupted when you saw a man approach him as he waited for your drinks. "You're in here dancing and having a good time. Where's Johnny? Hmm?" The guy shoved him now and you ran to Joel's defense.

"Enough!" The bartender scolded but the guy went on.

"You kill a local legend and you think you can just move on?" The guy shouted.

"Stop!" You intervened, standing with Joel as others began to turn in your direction.

"Oh, you even got a girl, that's great," mocked the stranger. "You know what Johnny's girl does on and off every week? She cries. Because you killed him!"

Joel tossed a twenty on the bar, left the drinks and stormed out of the establishment. You chased after him, bursting outside and shouted his name when a car whizzed by and almost hit him on the Main Street road.

"Joel!" You shouted and hurried the rest of the way to him. "Joel, stop!"

"I can't do this!" He shouted, "You just don't get it!"

"I know." You shook your head. "Joel, I'm sorry."

"I'm not your little fucking project," Joel went on.

"I know that, Joel." You shook your head, feeling the first sting of tears in your eyes. "I just.. I like you. I was having fun with you."

"I don't belong here. Not in this town. Not anymore! Nothing is going to change that."

"It's not fair," you went on, "I know-"

"You don't know anything!" He waved his hands wildly to the sides. "You don't know how I feel every single day."

"I know I don't," you agreed, "But I want to be here for you. I want to help you. Be your friend."

"What and relive this shit show of a night almost daily with me?" He made a face and shook his head.

"This night hasn't been a shit show," you argued. "Up until two seconds ago this was one of the enjoyable nights I can remember. It started back at the junk yard and on the bike-"

"Well, I'm glad I could give you a thrill ride," Joel said in a snarky fashion that cut you a little deep.

"Joel.." you shook your head. "I enjoy your company." You extended both of your arms in his direction with your palms up.

He looked at them but distanced himself further back a few steps. "Just.. go back to your normal life and stay away from me."

He scoffed turned away from you, storming off into the darkness as you still held your arms out in front of you. Despite having just formally met him, a single tear left each of your eyes.

"Joel!" You called. "Joel, please.."

He didn't turn back around. It broke off a piece of your heart when he disappeared around the corner of the building without so much as looking back.

CLICK HERE FOR CHAPTER 4

@untamedheart81 @amy172

[rozyrne]

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐑 !

rivalries are put aside, and camaraderie takes their place. and for the golden deer, pulling neck and neck with the eagles and lions despite having the fewest contestants in the ring is all the reason to celebrate! or so rosado and hortensia thought. at the post-tournament grand banquet, the elusian pair have set up a golden deer corner, complete with yellow and cervid decor and drapery, and both hosts arrayed in house colors and face paint. "three cheers for knoll! three cheers for hilda! three cheers for eliwood!" "fear the deer!" a celebration lifting up the class heroes who'd carried them from underdog into the spotlight, and for all the deer who cleared the way valiantly to let them get there: —hip-hip hooray!

FOOD & DRINK:

—  CUPCAKE DECORATING  ╱  from yellow-sugar icing to pretzel antlers to cookie toppings shaped like deer, there's no shortage of supplies to make your cupcakes look any which way you want.

—  CARAMEL MERINGUES  ╱  a triple layer of chocolate and caramel in glass containers, tied off with a bit of string attached to a spoon. perfect to grab and take with you, or feed to a loved one.

—  DOE POPS  ╱  cake pops shaped like deer heads! and something sticking out of each one. a paper fortune? what does yours say?

—  GOLDEN SPICE CIDER  ╱  a warm and buzzy autumnal drink, perfect for the season and sure to banish any chills. both alcoholic and non-alcoholic varieties available.

—  CROUCHING CHOCOLATE, HIDDEN STAG  ╱  a culinary minigame? a table is arranged with a terrarium-like miniature woodland display, complete with moss, trees, golden deer flags, and a herd of deer themselves. one item in this display is made of chocolate. how many things are you willing to bite to find which one it is?

ARTS & CRAFTS:

—  THIRTY-POINT CROWN  ╱  craft your own glorious headpiece with paint, twigs, and twine to show off your deer pride! who can boast the most impressive rack? ( of antlers, duh. what were you thinking? )

—  WOOD CARVING  ╱  for the dexterous and crafts-minded, a setup with display and instructions to carve your own wooden deer to take home. organizers are not responsible for injuries.

—  DEERLY BELOVED  ╱  a stack of deer-shaped paper and pens greet you. "write a compliment and stick it onto its recipient!" the instructions say. if you're fast, maybe they won't even know it's you.

—  READY-TO-PAINT CERAMICS  ╱  a station of unfired bowls and plates and small vases invites you to decorate them however you want! several stencils are provided for the uninitiated, or you can go where your hart takes you.

—  DECORATE A FRIEND  ╱  from washable paint to stick-on sequins, glitter bombs and pinnable deer tails. find a willing victim to array in deer spirit — or make one.

GAMES:

—  FÓDLAN CHESS  ╱  a traditional strategy board game using a triangle-shaped board that can be played by two to three people. the objective is to be the first to move all your pieces to one of the other corners by jumping over your opponents' pieces. are you up for the competition?

—  LIMBO  ╱  everyone knows that being a deer isn't just about strength or smarts, but flexibility. challenge mode: wear an antler crown while playing, and don't let it fall off your head!

—  ANTLER TOSS  ╱  you have five tries to land as many rings on the tines as you can for a prize. if a friend is willing, they can wear the antlers on their head for you to aim at instead!

—  DEER PONG  ╱  the classic party game, with alcoholic and non-alcoholic versions. some say that the non-alcoholic one misses the point of the challenge, but at least it lets everyone play, right?

—  HEADLOCK  ╱  in a classic show of strength, stamina, and bravado, it's time to wrestle like the stags do! put on a headdress of real oaken antlers ( not light, that ) and lock heads with your opponent to throw them to the ground! no use of other body parts or implements allowed.

GUIDELINES:

reblog this ask meme to indicate that your muse is participating! anyone who's reblogged the meme is automatically accepting asks, so no need to double-check. 　

please be mindful of not only waiting for interactions to come to you, but try to be proactive about sending to others too. it's not quite polite to always expect others to do the work! 　

muses from any house are welcome! it's a celebration meant for everyone. 　

this is still narratively part of BOEL, but to keep things separate from the BOEL tags, you may use the tag #GDPride2024 for related posts if you wish!

[holdmytesseract]

Frozen Hearts?

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Request: "Hi um..this is my first time asking and I don't know if your taking requests but I was wondering if you could do a Daryl and the reader get into a heated argument about how the reader went missing for a couple of days while on a run and Daryl goes after them but can't find them so he thinks that the same thing happened to them like the same thing happened to Sophia (if that makes any sense?) And after a couple days after Daryl lits a building on fire for some reason? And reader comes stumbling out of the building and Daryl sees that and the listener is just trying to get away from the fire and Daryl just grabs them and drags them away. Then he throws them on the ground and starts to yell at them and the listener starts to yell back and you could choose the rest :D Thank you!! ^^" - Requested by a nonny! 😄

Summary: You get lost on a run, due to a herd of walkers overrunning the small town you and your group went to. Daryl spends days outside, searching for you. When he does find you, it comes to a heated argument…

Warnings: the usual TWD stuff - walkers, fire, injuries, angst, fluff

Set in Season 9!

Word Count: 2,9k

a/n: Ahhhh, I love thiiis! Hope you like it as well, nonny! 🥰 Thanks for requesting! 😁

Quick note: I know, it's unlikely for wood to burn, when there's snow outside and so on, but ahhh, it just fit so well... Sorry, I hope you guys don't mind!

Tagging: @lokisgoodgirl (Tell me, if I should stop tagging you in my Daryl fics, boo! I promise, I won't be mad! x) @in-this-minute @thefemininemystiquee @hotgirlsshareaccounts @azanoni

If you want to be added to my Daryl taglist, please let me know! 😊

MASTERLIST

The wind howled around the houses of Alexandria. It was going to be a few hard months, everyone could tell. There wasn't much time left before the start of the winter. About one or two weeks - according to Eugene. So, the goal was to get as much supplies as somehow possible, in order to get everyone through those cold months ahead. Everybody helped as best as possible - including you. Together with a few other citizens from Alexandria, you went on a run to gather some more medical stuff. There was a small town - about a day ride away from the community. Daryl had found it on a hunt a few weeks ago. The town was in the forest, rather hidden, so you hoped it was most widely untouched.

Leading a group of three people, you made your way to the said town in the planned time slot. It took you almost exactly 24 hours. Together, you had searched for a safe place to stay the night. Everything went smoothly. Even the break in of the abandoned doctor's office. But once you all had made it out alive and well, everything went south on a sudden. Seemingly out of nowhere, a big herd of walkers - probably about 30 or 40 literally overran the town. There were too many of them and too less of you to fight them off, and in between all the panic and trouble, you got separated from the group...

Daryl didn't come often to Alexandria these days. He spent the most time out in the woods, still searching for Rick and trying to somehow get over his grief. It wasn't that easy, though. Alexandria just reminded him even more of his lost brother, so he didn't turn up a lot. But when he paid the community a visit, then because of one reason... You. You two knew each other since the prison and grew incredibly close over the time and all the shitty, horrible things you experienced together with your family.

This time he walked through the steel gates of Alexandria, it was the same reason as always... You.

The archer greeted everyone he saw on his way, until he reached your small, cosy house. Just as he wanted to knock at the door, his actions got interrupted by a voice behind him. "She isn't here, Daryl." Michonne. Word had spread fast, that the archer was back in the community. He spun around to face his friend. "What ya mean, she ain't here?" Michonne took a deep breath and stepped closer, pulling the winter coat she wore ever tighter. It was freezing. "Y/N went out on a run three days ago. Things went south. A large herd of walkers overran the small town you found and-" Daryl felt how his heart beat increased, pumping more blood through his veins. "She dead?" He asked dryly, tears already starting to build up in his eyes. Daryl lost his brother... He couldn't lose you, too. But to his sheer relief, shook Michonne her head. "No... Just missing. We hope she isn't dead, but... We don't know. Two people of her group came back and told us." "Did you search for 'er?" The leader of Alexandria squeezed her eyes shut and began to slowly shake her head. "We wanted, but like you see, it already started to snow. Eugene's weather forecast wasn't exactly correct. A snow storm is coming - and we both know it'd be too dangerous to go out there now. I'm sorry." Daryl clenched his teeth, felt how anger started to flood his system. Snow storm or not. It was no excuse to just leave you out there alone with dozens of walkers and other threats. "For you." Daryl simply said, before he rushed past Michonne. "Daryl! You can't go out there now! Especially not alone!" He adjusted his poncho and tapped the side of his right thigh to let Dog know he should follow him - which the dog immediately did out course. "You can't stop me! I ain't sittin' here around 'n lettin' Y/N out there alone, jus' because of a little bit snow." Michonne tried to argue with the archer, but it was no use of course. Daryl didn't listen to another word his friend said, slung his crossbow back over his shoulder and marched straight for the gates. "Come on, Dog." Dog barked at the call of his name and quickly followed his master. Michonne followed the pair as well, still trying to stop her friend. "Daryl!" He didn't listen, of course. Once Daryl Dixon was determined to do something, there was no stopping him. Before the leader of Alexandria was able to catch up with the archer, the heavy metal doors got already closed shut behind him.

Daryl searched for you. Day after day after day. His first destination had been of course the small town you went to on the run. There had been still quite a few walkers - some of them on the verge of freezing to the ground. Daryl quickly got rid of them and searched together with Dog every nook and cranny of the town. "Y/N?!" The small school. Empty. "Y/N?!" The doctor's office. Empty. "Y/N?!" The supermarket. Empty. He searched everywhere, even at the gas station, but he found nothing besides a few other walkers. Usually, the archer had no problem in finding people. He was a tracker, it was his forte, but the horrible weather conditions and the constant snow fall made the situation worse. Together with the constant wind, erasing all traces, it was almost impossible. But Daryl wouldn't be Daryl, if he gave up just yet, so he continued to look for you for another few days, scoured the area around the town for you - but it was no use. He just couldn't find you. It bothered Daryl. More than he was ready to admit. The fact that you were still missing unlocked something deep inside him. Not just fear, no... Awful flashbacks from the beginning. The dreadful day little Sophia went missing. How he and the others - but especially he searched for days - almost weeks, but couldn't find her. He couldn't find the girl. Daryl failed. And because of that, they lost Sophia. The archer would never forget the moment she walked out of that damn barn, hissing and snarling - turned into a walker. He would never forget how Carol broke down, crying. Or how Rick shot her in the head in front of everybody. What if history was repeating itself? What if that was exactly what happened to you as well? Gods, he could never forgive himself if that was the case. Daryl just had to find you.

Another day passed. Over a week and you were still missing. The only good thing was, that the harsh snow storm had stopped. Now it was just bitterly cold outside. Daryl's plan of searching led him even further away from Alexandria.

He and Dog had everything under control, scoured profoundly the area - until the archer found himself in a very unpleasant situation... A large herd of walkers surprised him, caused him and Dog to run for their lives. The archer didn't know how this could happen. They just came out of nowhere. While he tried to get away from the hungry, snarling threat behind him, he tried to think of a plan to get rid of them. Fate seemed to be good to him for once. A small, wooden hut came in sight, as he quickly walked - running was for a longer period not possible, due to the snow. Panting, he searched in his pockets for matchsticks. This could work, he thought. No... It had to work. Fighting them was no option. Taking on twenty plus walkers alone could be difficult. And he couldn't run away forever as well. It would drain his energy - and he hadn't exactly that much left anyways. Setting this hut on fire was probably his only chance. Daryl just hoped, that the wood wasn't too wet from the snow. He had to try it, hadn't he? So, he marched as fast as possible up to the hut.

 After a few desperate tries of getting the old wood to burn and the threatening snarling coming closer and closer, he finally made it. The wood caught fire. Daryl rounded the small hut to bring himself and Dog into safety, watching the fire spreading quickly. Soon, it would go up in flames. Daryl was relieved that his plan worked out - until he saw the back door of the hut bursting open. Someone stumbled out of the hut, coughing. The archer narrowed his eyes, only to recognise that it was... His eyes immediately widened again. You... It was you! Daryl literally jumped up from his hiding spot, "Stay, Dog." and ran over to you. "Y/N!"

You were still coughing heavily as you tried to get away from the fire. You tried to run, but it was impossible, like the searing pain in your leg reminded you immediately. A painful hiss escaped your lips. You looked down, examined the gaping wound on your thigh again. It was bleeding - again. You somehow made it to slice open your thigh as you tried to escape from the walkers, back in that small town. "Y/N!" You lifted immediately your head at the call of your name - and saw a figure running towards you. You couldn't believe your eyes. Was this...? Could it be? "Daryl?!" You cried out, hissing in pain again. He reached you a few moments later, holding onto your shoulders. "Y/N?! Are ya alright?" You nodded with tears in your eyes. Gods, you were so happy to see him. "Y-Yeah, just... Hurt my leg..." Daryl quickly gazed down to take a look at the wound, but got distracted by the herd of walkers getting closer and closer, reminding him of the threat, which was on its way to the burning hut. "C'mon. We gotta get away from 'ere." The archer wrapped your arm around his shoulder and his arm around your waist to steady you and help you walk.

Of course, was Daryl happy that he had found you, but the bottled up feelings and fears of losing you just like he lost Sophia, caused his blood to boil. It was only a matter of time, until he was going to burst - something you couldn't know. Once he had brought you into safety, he let go of you - literally pushing you away from him, his feelings taking over and resulting in you, stumbling backwards and falling to the snowy ground, because of your injured leg. "Daryl, what-" You wanted to ask, but he didn't let you. "Goddamnit, Y/N! What were ya thinkin'?!" He yelled. You looked up at him confused. What was that now about? You questioned yourself. Why was he suddenly yelling? The sudden off behaviour of your friend turned your mood sour as well. "What the hell, Daryl? Why are you yelling at me? What's your problem?" Daryl scoffed. "What my problem is?!" He looked around, as if trying to somehow compose himself - without success. "You are my problem, woman! Why did ya go on that damn run, alone?!" Now it was your time to scoff. "I wasn't alone! I had a team!" "Ya call those three Savior pricks a team? For god's sake, Y/N... That ain't a team! They left ya alone out there, saved their own asses and went back to Alexandria! Why didn't you take Aaron with ya? Or Rosita? Or me?" You swallowed hard at his words. Did they really do that? Did they really give up on you? "Ya could've died! Bit or eaten by a walker - or worse! What if the Whisperers would've found ya?! Ya could've been killed!" "Right, Dixon! Could have! But I didn't!" You stood up from the cold ground. Your leg protested against this, but you didn't care, ignored the pain and just clenched your jaw. "I can look after myself!" You turned on your heels, ready to walk away. "I don't need a watchdog - and I certainly don't need you!" Ouch. Those words cut deep. It was an invisible punch to the gut. Daryl was like petrified for a moment, as he watched you hobble away, further into the woods. He didn't know, that you regretted the thing you said immediately, but you were too angry to take it back. The archer swallowed hard, now angry at himself for letting his bottled-up feelings take over. Did you really mean that? You didn't need him? This heated argument made Daryl realise two things. One: He cared about you - a lot. And two: No matter if you didn't need him. He needed you.

Afraid, that he might have lost you for real now, he quickly ran after you, with Dog close behind. "Y/N! Y/N! Wait!" You heard him calling for you, but didn't even think about stopping. "Please!" But Daryl was quicker on foot than you were and not injured, so he quickly caught up on you. "Y/N, please! 'M sorry!" He gently grabbed your arm to turn you around. "Oh now you're sorry?!" You yelled at him. "You almost killed me by burning this damn hut down and then you just yelled at me without a reason and now you're sorry?!" Daryl hung his head, long, brown strands of his curls falling into his face. "'M sorry..." He repeated, causing you to just scoff, before you turned around and began to walk away once again. That was the moment Daryl realised, that it was probably time to open up to you. To let the true feelings speak. Not his anger.

"I-I jus' yelled at ya, 'cause..." He sighed. "'Cause I was worried sick. Was almost shittin' myself when Michonne told me that ya didn't come back from the run... That the others lost ya... I went out, searchin' for ya, day after day. I was so afraid of losin' ya... So afraid of failin' to find ya - jus' like I failed finding Sophia." You stopped abruptly in your tracks at his words and felt your heart aching at his words. "I yelled at ya, 'cause I care 'bout ya, Y/N... A lot... I couldn't stand losin' ya. I-I need ya. Dunno what to do with myself if ya would be dead." You expected a lot for him to say - but certainly not that. His words literally left you breathless, as he opened up his heart for you.

Without hesitation, you turned to face him, smiling softly. "Daryl Dixon..." You started, shaking your head. "You never fail to surprise me." Daryl looked at you, stunned. "I jus' poured out ma heart to ya - and you... smile?" "Uh, um, yes, because now I know that the feeling is mutual." He furrowed his brows. "M-Mutual?" You nodded, stepping closer to him, until you could place your hands on his grey poncho clad chest. All the anger suddenly vanished; thrown out of the window. Daryl flinched a bit at your sudden touch, didn't see it coming. "I care about you, too, Daryl. So much that it often keeps me awake at night, when you are out there alone to search for Rick or hunt. I liked you from the very beginning. From the day you and the others saved us from Woodbury and brought us to the prison." You smiled even wider, rubbed your hands affectionately over his chest. "Okay, admittedly, I was a bit scared of you at first, 'cause you were quite a bit intimidating, but... I-I guess with time turned intimidation into admiration. Admiration turned into affection. Affection turned into a crush, and well... The crush turned into love. W-What I'm tryin' to say is... I-I think I l-love you." Daryl blinked, still visibly stunned. He needed a moment to catch up. But once, the words had fully sunk in, a warm feeling started to spread throughout the archer's body. A feeling, he never felt that strong in his life before, but he always knew was there – since the prison. Love. It couldn't be something different. Slightly awkwardly, he lifted his hands to place them on your hips, pulling you gently closer. "Love ya, too." The words he never used in his life before, slipped so easily over his lips all of a sudden.

You were beaming now. Your face almost started to hurt from all the smiling. Quickly, you pressed a short, soft kiss on Daryl's lips, taking him by surprise once again. He looked at you shocked at first, but then started to smile, blushing. "Can we go home now, please?" You asked after staring into his beautiful blue eyes for a long moment. "I'm freezing my ass off and this-" You pointed to your thigh. "Really hurts." Daryl nodded quickly, "'Course." and quickly moved to pick you up bridal style. A soft squeak left your lips, followed by a giggle. "Daryl! What are you doing?" "What does it look like?" You shook your head, still giggling, but clasped your hands around his neck. "You can't carry me all the way." Daryl started to walk, whistling for Dog to follow him. "I can and I will. Gotta take care of ma woman." My woman... You liked the sound of that.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Inside Man: Part Two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: The gang is split into two. Sam and Cas continue to look for the cure for the Mark with the help of someone who will do anything to bring you back. You and Dean face off with Rowena but this time, you're going to show her that you're the most powerful witch there is, and damn her if she thinks she can beat 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

There's a psychic, Oliver Pryce, who is living in town and who Sam thinks is strong enough to connect to someone in Heaven. He's located two towns over so Sam and Cas immediately head over there.

"Who is this guy?" Cas asks.

"So, back in the '50s, Oliver Pryce was a kid psychic. He performed everywhere--carnivals, Atlantic City, you name it. He was the real deal. The Men of Letters were teaching him how to control his powers when they were killed. The point is, he's one of the good guys. He might be happy to see us."

Sam and Cas approach Oliver's house and see a "No Trespassing" sign on his fence.

"Or not," Cas says.

Sam walks past the fence, walks up the porch steps, and pounds on his front door.

"Mr. Pryce? Oliver Pryce!"

No response.

"I'll break it down," Cas says seriously.

"Dude, chill."

"What? I'm helping." The front door opens and Oliver stands there with a slight glare. "Just follow my lead." Cas turns to the older man. "Mr. Pryce? This is Sam--"

"Winchester. You're Sam Winchester, Man of Letters."

"How did you know?"

"Mind reader, remember?" Oliver's eyes look Cas up and down as he tries to figure out who or what he is. "What are you?"

"I'm an Angel."

"No, you can't be," Oliver frowns.

"Why not?"

"I'm an atheist."

"Not anymore," Sam says. Both he and Cas enter Oliver's house and Oliver escorts them to the living room. There are pictures of Oliver during his younger years hanging on the wall. "Is that you?"

"It was me. I don't do the psychic stuff anymore. Being around people, it's kind of... Hell, all those brains yapping all the time drive a guy bananas."

"Because you can hear everyone's thoughts?" Cas asks.

"Well, not yours. All I'm getting from you is colors. The hippie over here? I'm seeing some creep-ass hobbit-lookin' fella and a prison cell?"

Sam frowns at being called a hippie but lets it go.

"That's Heaven's jail," Cas says.

"Heaven's got a fucking jail?"

"Yeah, it does, and we're looking to break someone out of it. We have an inside man but we need your help to talk to him."

"If I say no?"

"You're the mind reader," Sam smirks.

"I'll get my shit," Oliver sighs. Oliver sets his living room up like one of his seance sessions and sits in between Sam and Cas. Candles cover the surface of the table and a small radio sits in the middle of the table. "Do you have anything that belonged to the deceased?"

"Yeah, right here."

Sam pulls out Bobby's hat and sets it on the table. If anyone will have enough motivation to help you and Dean, it's your dad.

"Good. Now shut up and hold hands."

All three men do and Oliver begins chanting something in Latin. The lights start to flicker, the table shakes slightly, and the candles start shooting flames from the wicks. Once Oliver is done chanting, he opens his eyes and nods to Sam.

"Bobby? Bobby, can you hear me?" Silence. "Bobby, we need your help."

"Sam?"

Bobby's voice comes from the radio in the middle of the table. Sam doesn't know how long this connection will last so he speaks fast and tells Bobby everything that has been happening with you and Dean.

"Y/N is turning into a monster, Bobby. She's soulless and pretty soon, your daughter won't be your daughter. She'll be beyond saving. Anyway, that's the short version of what's been happening. Are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here," Bobby says thickly. "What about Joanna?"

Sam looks at Cas.

"All I know is that they're safe. She's a witch again, Bobby, which means she can read minds. Dean and I can't know where they are."

"They? There's more than just Joanna?"

"We don't have time to get into this right now, Bobby."

"Okay, just so I'm hearing this right, you have to figure out a way to get the Mark of Cain off Dean before he turns back into a demon and off Y/N before she goes postal?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

"So, just another day at the office for you boys, huh? Put Dean on the line."

"Dean's not here. Y/N isn't either."

"Why not?"

"Y/N threatened her kids. She made him promise not to look for the cure or else she'll find her kids and kill them. She doesn't want this cure, Bobby. Dean's distracting her right now. I never made any promise to find the cure."

"Shit," Bobby sighs. "Alright, what's the plan?"

"Each soul in Heaven is locked in its own private paradise," Cas explains. "That's where you are now. You need to escape. You need to find the gate to Earth and open it. Then you and I will find Metatron, the Scribe of God."

"Hey, Sam, you remember when this job was just chopping up some fang and tossing back a cold one?"

"I miss that," Sam sighs.

"Ditto. So, while I'm playing Steve McQueen, is anyone gonna be looking for me?"

"Everyone," Cas answers. "The Angels will not like a soul wandering free."

"Do you have a way to slow them down?"

"Not exactly. I'm sure you'll figure something out, Bobby. You always do."

"Listen, I appreciate the warm and fuzzy, but I ain't exactly playing on the big leagues these days. I'm mostly drinking and reading the classics. Truth is, I'm rusty and maybe there's somebody better out there."

"Bobby, there isn't. I'm telling you, if you love Y/N and Dean in the way I know you do, you'll do this for them... for me."

Bobby takes two deep breaths before scoffing.

"Hell, I'm already dead. What's the worst that could happen? What do I need to do?"

"You need to find your Heaven's escape hatch. Look for something that shouldn't be there, and that's your way out."

"If I find a way out, then what?"

"You'll be in a long hallway with a bunch of doors. The gate to Earth will be behind number forty-two."

"Okay."

Bobby gets off his ass and starts looking around in the small room he always stays in and drinks. Nothing seems out of the ordinary but there is something on the carpet he only notices until now. A small white string is sticking out of the carpet he's standing on. He reaches down and pulls on it, and a doorway opens on the back wall. White light pours from it and he smirks.

"Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in."

The second that Bobby steps through the door into the hallway, the connection to Bobby is severed. Sam and Cas, after thanking Oliver, head back to the playground. They stay stuck in the shadows so the angels don't suspect anything. All they have to do is wait for Bobby to open the gate and Cas can go through without a hitch.

"This better work. I need my brother and best friend back," Sam sighs.

"You sure he can handle this?" Cas asks.

"He's Bobby. He can handle anything, especially when it comes to his daughter."

The second Bobby sets foot into the hallway, the alarm blares and he bangs his fist on the wall.

"Balls!"

If Bobby doesn't do something now, the angels will come for him and ruin everything. He looks at the endless doors in the hallway and gets an idea. He starts opening up all the doors and calling out for their occupants. Before he knows it, a ton of people are wandering the halls looking confused. That's when the angels come including Hannah.

"What? Find out how this happened," Hannah says to one of the other angels. "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I need you to return to your Heavens in a calm, orderly manner."

"Oh, yeah? Well, who made you boss?" Bobby says loudly.

"Right?"

"Who the hell you think do you are?" another person asks.

This causes an outrage where the souls are trying to fight back against the angels. Bobby uses this and escapes while the angels are occupied. He slips into another hallway and searches for door forty-two. When he finds it, he pushes it open. Sam and Cas have been waiting patiently for Bobby to find the door. A rift opens from above the sandbox and the two men jump into action. Sam runs to keep the guarding angels back while Cas runs for the door.

"Go! Go!" Sam says and tackles one of the angels to the ground.

Cas jumps through the door of Heaven and slides on the floor right in front of Bobby.

"Welcome to the party," Bobby chuckles. Bobby helps Cas to his feet and pats him on the back. "So, I need you to tell me how bad it really is."

"Um..."

"Cas, what's happening?"

"Dean is angry all the time. Y/N doesn't have a soul. Dean has it. He sucked her soul out of her when Metatron killed him. He tainted hers as dark as his so we're waiting for her soul to purify before we can put it back in."

"Does Dean know you're here?"

"He knows we're looking for a way to get the Mark off. He doesn't know you're involved. Y/N doesn't know anything. If she does, she will hurt your granddaughters and grandson."

"Wait." Bobby stops Cas from walking and gets tears in his eyes. "I have three grandchildren?"

If he doesn't know about Maryann, he doesn't know about Robert and what happened to him.

"Maryann was born two years after Joanna. She was a twin. Robert, your grandson, didn't make it. He was a stillborn. Noah is adopted. Y/N found him at a time when they needed each other."

"I have three grandkids," Bobby whispers to himself.

"You might not if Y/N continues down this road."

Cas leads Bobby to the prison where Metatron currently is. He looks up when the two men enter and grins knowingly.

"Well, howdy, fellas."

"This is the Scribe of God? He looks like a Fraggle," Bobby scoffs.

"I'm gonna take that as a compliment. That was an excellent program."

"Metatron, we are here--"

"I know why you're here, Asstiel, and I'm not interested. I told you I would rather die than let Dean and Y/N Winchester use me as their personal punching bag again."

"Don't worry. They're not involved. You're gonna be my punching bag," Cas glares.

"Ah, the B team, huh? Interesting. Keys are over there." Metatron points to the keys hanging on the wall. "Chop chop!"

"Are you sure this is the only way?" Bobby asks.

"Unfortunately."

Sam killed both angels so they wouldn't blab to the other ones of what Cas did. He's been waiting patiently by the car for the door to Heaven to open again. It's been about two hours when it finally opens, and Cas steps out with Metatron. Bobby isn't with him. He didn't think he would be.

"Sam-tastic! Miss me?" Metatron sniffs the air. "Oh, smell that? That smells like freedom. Well, let's go. I call shotgun!"

Metatron tries walking to the car but Cas pulls him back by his jacket collar.

"You don't get to make demands, Metatron. You're not in charge here."

"Oh, I'm afraid I am. I know about the Mark. I have your Grace. I make the rules. It's called leverage, boys. Learn it, live it, love it."

Sam and Cas look at each other, and the Winchester nods to the angel once. Without blinking, Cas slides out his angel blade and slices Metaron's neck horizontally. It's not to kill him, no, it's to steal his Grace. He did it so fast that Metatron didn't have enough time to react. Before he knows it, his Grace is trapped in a small container Sam brought.

Metatron is human.

Knowing he won't heal from this, Sam takes out his gun and shoots Metatron in the leg. The former angel screams in pain and falls on his ass while reaching for his bleeding leg.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!"

"We have your Grace, Metatron. You're mortal now. So, you will answer our questions or Sam will, what's the phrase?" Cas' voice deepens angrily. "Blow your fucking brains out. It's called leverage, Metatron."

"Learn it, live it, love it," Sam smirks. "How do we get rid of the Mark?"

"I don't know," Metatron stutters. Sam aims the gun at his head and the former angel backs away in fear. "I don't know! It's old magic, God-level magic! Or Lucifer level, but you can't ask him, exactly, can you?"

"What about the tablets?"

"No, there's nothing in them about the Mark," he stutters again.

"So, when you said, 'The river ends at the source,' that was--"

"I was just making up shit, trying to buy time till I could screw you over. It worked before."

"He's telling the truth," Cas says. His eyes darken. "Shoot him."

Sam raises his gun without question, dead set on killing Metatron.

"No, no! No!" Metatron panics. "Your Grace! I wasn't lying about that. There's still some left. I'll take you to it."

"It's your call, Cas."

"I have to get my Grace back, Sam," Cas whispers.

Metatron is relieved that he isn't going to die today. Cas shoves him into the back of the car but before Sam can get behind the wheel, Cas stops him. He reaches into his trenchcoat and pulls out two envelopes.

"Listen, Bobby asked me to give you these. One is for you and Dean. The other is for Y/N. Don't give it to her until her soul is returned."

"Okay. Thanks," Sam whispers.

If he gives it to you now, you'll destroy this and you'd be heartbroken if you destroyed something you can't ever get back.

x

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

[bugs1nmybrain]

Aizawa Shouta SFW Alphabet Headcanons

Warning: Aizawa's a softie

I'd prefer if minors didn't interact, but this isn't an nsfw post

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Around others no one would even know that you two were dating. He doesn't like PDA at all and the most you'll get from him is a mundane conversation. But in private it's such a dichotomy.

He likes to come up to you when your attention isn't on him. Whatever it is you're occupied with, he'll come up from behind, wrap his arms around your waist and kiss your shoulder. He's rather distracting about it actually.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He's not an upbeat friend at all, as evident by his relationship with Hizashi. He tends to not get too attached to people for a while due to his trauma. You'd probably be the one to initiate the friendship and he'd eventually just grow used to your company.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

This man is the motherfucking king of cuddling. It'll take him a bit to get that close to you, but once he's comfortable with you, it probably takes up most of the time you two spend together. He's so snuggly and warm, and showers you with forehead kisses. Once he falls asleep his arms will lock around you, not allowing you to move from his hold. Good luck.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Sooooooo domestic! Shouta wants to settle down and have a quiet, peaceful, relaxing life with you.

He's not going to leave all that housekeeping shit to you alone. He'll cook with you, but you'll probably have to add in some seasoning because the food he makes is so bland (I don't think he has proper taste buds). He's kind of cute and funny when he cleans because he does it so meticulously for no reason.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He'll be straightforward and honest with you, laying down why it has to end. He's not as heartless about it as someone might expect, just very blunt. It'll probably be a bittersweet ending, and while Shouta wouldn't let the breakup get in the way of him, he'd be pretty sad about it internally.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

It will take forever for him to propose. Mulitple years even. He doesn't see why having your relationship on paper makes any difference between you two. Once he does, he'll do it layed back. It'll happen inside your home after a nice home-cooked meal. It takes him a lot of to muster up the courage to ask you. He'll spare you the cheesy speeches and get to the point, pulling out a ring that's probably not even in the case and slipping it onto your finger.

Preferably, he'd like to just sign the papers and skip the wedding, but if it's really important to you he'll agree to a little one. Just don't force him to do stuff that'll embarrass him, like dancing at the reception. He'd divorce you then and there.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He's blunt and honest with you, but you're also not one of his students. There's no reason for him to be unnecessarily strict with you. He won't hold back his opinions but he's pretty gentle with you about it. It's very, very rare for him to raise his voice at you. You'd probably have to do something severe for him to do that to you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Hugs are awkward for him at first because he typically doesn't like getting so close to someone. He'll grow to like them though, probably coming up to get hugs more than you'd expect. His hugs are so warm and embracing. They're addictive and you'll never be able to get enough of them.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It'll take a long while to coax it out of him. He knows it, but bringing it to words makes him feel awkward. Honestly, it probably will come out when you're snuggled together and he's so unbelievably tired that he doesn't even think before it comes out. When he realizes what he said, he gets flustered so quickly and pouts in embarrassment.

From then on out, "I love yous" don't come super often because he shows not tell. But when it does come out you know it. He always means it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He's not really jealous because he trusts you. He's confident in your relationship and has faith that you'll stay true to him. However....sometimes he'll see you talking with someone who seems a tad too friendly and get a little annoyed. But he doesn't get in the way.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Ticklish haha. When he's leaving for work it'll be a brief peck on the lips but when you're spending time together they'll be deeper and more affectionate. He likes being kissed on the neck. For you he likes to give you kisses on your temple.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Clearly strict. But good. He doesn't let children walk all over him but he pays close attention to them and knows how to be a caretaker. He's nurturing too, in his own way.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

It's kind of sad because usually by the time you wake up he's gone for work. On weekends, though, the two of you will stay in bed for a while, exchanging kisses and conversation. Eventually you'll get up and make coffee for the two of you and spend the weekend savoring the time you get to have together.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Sleepy. He's always ready for bed. Sometimes he'll agree to watch a movie with you, but he'll always fall asleep within the first 10 minutes.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It'll take a while for him to delve into his past. He doesn't like talking about it. Not really because he doesn't trust you, he just gets a little sad talking about it. He'll reveal things slowly to you over time.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Eh. He doesn't get really angry, but he's moody. He's a buzzkill because he's kinda always in a shitty mood. He's stressed and overworked. He can get snappy when he's mad but he doesn't yell at you. He knows that he doesn't need to to get his point across.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Honestly he forgets things sometimes. He remembers important stuff, but things slip. Sometimes he won't even remember your birthday is coming up until he gets the reminder on his phone.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He enjoys remembering how he met you. You two are cat lovers, and he met you when you were feeding stray cats in the area. He remembers how caring you were and the joy that lit up your features as you pet the cats. He instantly knew he liked you then.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He needs to be sure of your safety, which is partially why he's so hesitant to be around you in public. He doesn't want to risk someone targeting you to get back at him. If you were ever hurt by a villain he'd probably go apeshit.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Dates and anniversaries can be a miss for him. He really doesn't like doing all that romantic stuff, it feels forced to him.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He sucks at giving you attention sometimes. He's so busy and is naturally closed off, so he can tend to forget that he needs to actively pay attention to you. It can feel sort of like that married couple that grow to be roommates more than lovers.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Haha he isn't.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

I mean, not really. He's not codependent, but he does feel a little more content with you in life.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

*suggestive? I know this is a sfw post but I wanted to add this*

He enjoys taking showers and baths with you a lot. Not for sexual reasons, he just really enjoys the skin to skin contact and being able to relax with you. Wash his hair for him and he'll melt.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Don't get too clingy. This doesn't mean you can't be affectionate but if you try to pry him away from his responsibilities you're going to get a serious scolding. He's got shit to do and he can't always be up your ass.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Hah. Ideally, he'd love to get proper, fulfilling sleep. But, he has a lot on his plate. He has two jobs on top of training two extra children so he doesn't have time to waste on sleeping. Hence why he takes naps in the small fragments of free time he has.

[edgecallskating]

How I Make Figure Skating gifs at SPEED

Fishing this from my notes because I think this is a fun question! If you'll permit me, a brief digression into how I do this!

I used to do live figure skating commentary on The Bad Place™. The Platform Formerly Known as Twitter moved fast, so if I didn't get my gif up quickly it would get swamped in the hashtags and feed. So I got really, really good at making gifs on the fly during comps. So! Here's what I do: I have the broadcast running in two sessions: master live stream on the tv, gif stream on the laptop. I load the laptop session first so that it runs ever so slightly behind the tv stream. This gives me a couple seconds of buffer before pulling the trigger to capture video. I have Giphy Capture sized and ready over the stream on my laptop. Watch, capture, repeat. While the judges score or during the flood, I start cutting and uploading. I've streamlined my naming convention for files to conform to the convention SkaterName_CompYear_CompSegment_ElementName. I can search everything quickly based on any one of those slugs from my drive. Everything's filed by skater as well. Mid-way through the season I'm familiar with most of the programs, so I'm reasonably prepared for the Good Bits and can pay attention to those while the event is live. After the first couple of skaters I also know if the replay videos after the performances are worth paying attention to and capture accordingly. I'm also a former, long-time skater, so I like to think I have a skater's sense of what's likely to be memorable or noteworthy. I like calling attention to small moments in addition to the big ticket elements. But yes, I am fast! I do appreciate that I don't have to move quite so quickly on tumblr. If I don't get a gif up in the first 5 minutes after a skater's performance it won't disappear into the slobbering maw of The Algorithm. I really like that tags on tumblr stay active long after the competition is over, so gifs have a much longer life and more people enjoy them. THANK YOU to everyone who likes and reblogs my stuff. I do this entirely for fun and it gives me a lot of happiness to see so many people love these little sparkling moments of a sport I love. Big hugs to all of you!

[offical-ouroboros]

Okay as a idea of mine

Hiem x realtor reader HCs? I think it would be actually cute or atleast interesting :3

YESYEYSYEYSYYSYEYSYEDYEYSYEYYSYS

~♡

Heim Baile x REALTOR!Reader HCs

CW: Mentions of reproducing curiosity, cute date idea: murder

※ Depending on how good you are at your job, he probably doesn't even recognize you're like him!

"Hey there, pal! I'd like to sell you a house!"

※ You give him a dumbfounded look. Counterspell.

"I'd like to sell you a house."

" . . . What?"

※ You pull out your own card- It's definitely better than his, which isn't hard to do.

"You. REALTOR."

※ Putting two and two together, he realises his mistake.

※ He's embarrassed, looking away with an awkward smile.

"Eheheh... Sorry about that."

※ You both probably get over it soon, introduce each other to your house, and things blossom from there.

※ He'll find whatever seasonal look your lure has adorable! Or cool. Or whatever you'd like them to be!

※ Most of your dates occur outside- I imagine it's a bit strange being inside another REALTOR...

※ You can hunt newcomers together! He's not as interested in eating people... But, if you are, he'll definitely help out!

※ He likes going out to eat with you!

※ Well... Going out, looking at each other longingly over food, flirting, and taking your meals to go so you can actually eat them at home.

"One of my clients dropped this earlier... Doesn't this place look cute?"

※ He does like it when you go over to each other- Take turns letting your lures rest while the other cuddles up in their lap.

※ Its a nice way to just relax and get intimate at the same time.

※ Speaking of, as a pollinator, he can't help but be curious...

※ Could you... Have kids with him?

※ It doesn't matter what gender your lure presents as, the house of your real body can be anything.

※ If you can, then excuse his enthusiasm, but he might end up asking if you'd like to commit to it. REALTORs grow up fast, and they don't really need any parents.

※ But... He's heard quite a few creatures in the UCV do that to further a relationship, and maybe...

※ He won't pressure you into anything. He doesn't care if you don't want to. He was just curious.

※ And, if you can't, there's still a chance he asks anyways. He's not the smartest! I doubt there's classes on REALTOR reproducing anyways.

※ Whatever you choose, he'll still love you all the same.