#So this took a fuckin eternity to put together

[taxfruad4ever]

Okay so I accidentally FUCKIN DELETED THIS WHOLE THING AND I HAD TO TOTALLY RE-WRITE IT WHICH IS WHY I TOOK SO DAMN LONG TO POST AGAIN!!! ...So this was da request:

hiii could you do something abt shadow x reader where they go in a fight with a villian or something but the reader sacrifices their self to save shadow ? (the reader lives but its badly hurt tho)

Warnings: Extreme angst, Mention of death, Extreme angst, like, gut-wrenching amounts of it.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You sluggishly fluttered your your eyes open, an incandescent glow seeping through your eyelids as consciousness neared you. You felt dizzy —weak— as if you had been spun around in circles for hours on end; you wished someone was there with you to comfort you, to fend off the dizzying haze that consumed you wholly.

Staring at the dull white of ceiling tiles, —for what felt adjacent to an eternity— You paid no attention to your surroundings. Although, you did notice a tv tray filled with flowers and "Get well soon!" Cards, a woven basket of baked goods with Amys swooping cursive handwriting on the card, and a heavy weight that laid over your legs with tranquility; It was Shadow, his eyes pink and puffy, as if he had been crying. You gently placed your hand on the side of his head, making him jolt upright and stiff.

As he realized who had awoken him, however, his face changed from his regular brooding facade into a relieved simper; his shoulders relaxing with ease— or exhaustion, rather—.

"I get the feeling you've been here a while." You joked. You had ment for your voice to come out clear and jovial, but instead, it came out tired and weak.

"I've been here just as long as you have." He stated gruffly.

"Which is...?" You trailed off, hoping for him to finish the sentence, but to no avail. Silence hung thickly in the air.

"You know damn well that I'm Immortal, yet you put your life on the line— for what?" He spat. His eyes welled up with tears, but he tried to keep his cool as best he could. Pressing his lips together in a line.

You furrowed your brows. You knew outbursts like this were completely unlike him. The thought that your reckless actions— your idiotic conduct— caused him this pain put a lump in your throat.

"For you...!" You trailed off, fiddling with the edge of your hospital gown as your shoulders slumped.

"Besides, it was barely a flesh wound..!" You continued.

"Barely a flesh wound you needed 42 stitches for." He spat with venom in his tone. Another long pause drawing out in between you and him.

"I'm sorry." You breathed, barely audible as the harsh weight of shame — of guilt — settled over you like a thick veil.

"I don't want you to be sorry." He reached out to you, holding your shaking hands in his. Finally holding eye contact, his eyes glistening with warmth and tendresse.

"I want you to be safe.."

"But I failed to make you so." He looked away, shutting his eyes tightly.

"I failed you.." he choked out, berating himself, fists clenched with a white knuckle grip.

"No. You didn't fail me," you insisted; sitting up more tall and confident then before. "This was my fault, Shadow. It was my choice to save you; my choice to put my life on the line— Not yours—." You stated firmly.

"I could have escaped easily." He said, his quills stiffening in annoyance.

"And if you hadn't?" You quaked.

"Your death would have been better than my short absence?" He shouted sternly.

You thought for a beat, unsure of what to say next.

"Maybe..." You admitted, eyes glistening with tears. "But I still chose this." You finished, a cold tear finally trickling down your cheek; a fraction of the shame you felt that made you ache to your very bones.

He took a deep breath, his nerves briefly relaxing.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

"You need to rest. They should be able to release you by tomorrow afternoon." He stated, walking toward the door without a single word more.

You looked down at your shaking hands, the world soon growing blurry as a pang of sorrow shoots through you; bereft without Shadows presense next to you.

Sorry for the wack ending lol. I've been working on this for months now, and I felt horrible not posting it as soon as possible. So thank you for your patience!

Baiiiiiii 💖💖💖

Edit: HOLY SHIT THIS ABSOLUTELY BLEW UP??? COMPARED TO MY REGULAR POSTS THIS IS HUGE THANK Y'ALL SO MUCH 😭😭😭

[princessanonymous]

Your platonic yandere vampire fuckin slaps, its so good i want to eat it

Since after turning, the reader is basically a NEET at this point cause I doubt Dorian would allow her to have a life. Are there like any expectations that he has on her on a day to day basis?

As in, does he expect a minimum amount of time spent together as a family (aside from dinners), having the 1700s equivalent of family game nights, does Dorian expect the reader to hug her dads at least once a day? Or does he let her rot in her room with dolls and just likes the idea of having his husband and daughter in the house?

Once again, love your work and great job , fuckin banger series you made thank you so much for the delicious food, looking forward for more

𝓨𝓸𝓾'𝓵𝓵 𝓑𝓮 𝓑𝓪𝓬𝓴 (Ask)

When Night Comes asks Platonic Yandere Vampire Story Chapter list

I'm glad to know you liked it! (*°▽°*) Thank you for asking! Sorry it took so long to answer, I just didn't know how to put it into words until today. o(TヘTo) But here it is :

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Surprisingly, Dorian did not expect a certain amount of time spent together. With time, he had grown to understand that forcing it would only make the girl pull away even more. He knew (Y/n) would come to him or Killian all by herself. Who else would she turn to anyway? Who else would she turn to, after all? Balls and gatherings where she could mingle with vampires of similar age and disposition were few and far between. Being in contact with mortals without feeding on them was even rarer. 

No, he knew she needed them. Leaving wasn’t even an option for one who looked so young, that, she was very much aware of. She wasn’t dumb, far from it.

But every three decades or so, the youngling would forget that and simply confine herself in her own quarters. Dorian learned not to make a big deal about it. Still, she needed company no matter how much she could forget that sometimes. Naturally, he would then find her company; that was his role as his caretaker, after all. The first time, it had been a grey cat which, for the life of him, he couldn't remember the name of. Next, it was a little puppy and, ten years ago, it was a small cat with bright blue eyes named Atlas.

They all died within ten years of their arrival. His little vampire took great care of them, but their mortal existence couldn’t be extended forever. Yet, every time, she would be devastated, mourning them for a long period of time. Just like she was doing tonight, in fact. Atlas had been buried earlier in the night. The poor girl was a mess sobbing in his arms. He gently rubbed circles in her back as she cried all the tears in her body. 

“Now, hush dear," he muttered with a soothing voice, “you gave it a wonderful life. I’m sure he is now thankful wherever he is.”

"Why did he have to go?" She sobbed even more.

"All mortals have to go, starshine, you know that," he reminded her softly.

The stark contrast between mortals and their kind was a truth they couldn't escape. Mortals, with their fleeting lives and fragile mortality, existed on a different plane altogether. They grew old and frail, their bodies succumbing to the relentless march of time, while vampires remained frozen in eternal youth, unchanging and immutable. Mortals came and went like whispers on the wind, leaving behind only the faintest traces of their existence, while vampires endured, their memories etched into the fabric of eternity. Dorian knew the pet would eventually die, just like the others. And yet, despite the inevitability of her passing, she still had them; her family. 

In the quiet darkness of the night, she sought solace in the embrace of the familiar, curling up in the comforting confines of Dorian's coffin. Her tears, silent witnesses to the turmoil that churned within her, traced shimmering paths down her cheeks. He petted her hair gently as Killian placed a kiss on her forehead. And just like that, everything was as it was before. She clung to them as she should.

She would always come to them in the end. Sometimes, it just took a little push, a reminder that mortal life was fleeting — and here she was once again, returning to them with a heart heavy with sorrow and tears.

She would come and they would be there.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Does he bring her pets so she can watch them die on purpose as a form of punishment whenever she pulls away for too long?

'Nooooooo, of course nooooot,' Dorian says, u know, just like a dirty filthy lying liar who lies.

[shrimplymoray]

This is... Very much self-indulgent and for my own comfort right now. So, excuse anything that may be off, or a bit OOC. TW: Apathy crisis, existential crisis.

Cronus Ampora x Reader - Apathy

Cronus was never the smartest fish in the sea when dealing with people, especially when it is other's feelings. He may seem like the emotional type of guy (he has cried multiple times for human love songs), but dealing with others is way out of his league. He - and the rest of the Beforus trolls for that matter - keep wondering how he managed to actually score one. He was used to shooting his shot at others and missing by well over a mile, so his oh-so-not-smooth flirts actually hitting a soft spot for you made him lose his composure, and get fidgety. An adorable view, truly. Though in past times his bluntness and lack of emotional knowledge never affected you, it seemed as though fate had other plans. Apathy. Something all 13 of you have become used, almost acquaintances to. Sadly, being used does not mean it is easy to deal with. Some of you, like Meulin and Rufioh, have mastered the art of surrounding yourself with others to get better. Latula and Porrim tend to dive into hobbies to lessen the effects. You? Oh... Even after what seemed like thousands of years, it is a mystery what actually helps you. That is why, this time, Cronus went too far for you. It was simple, you were faking till you got better, but he ran his mouth too much. "Heyy~ hot stuff, are ya mad at somefin? Did'ya stub yer toes? Ya so dry it shorelly must'vwe been somefin goin' on." A pause, and an answer "I don't know what you're talking about Cro." "Huh? C'mon, bae~ Lemme guess... Meenah talked shit 'bout yer hair?" "Is... there something with my hair?" "wvah- NONONO! No it, uh, it looks as great as ya! Like alwvays, I just, uh, y'knowv howv she can get, haha!" You knew he was not trying to make you mad, yet... He didn't seem charming when being a dork, this time. Your pause, the look in your void white eyes that stared at his, and your look at the distance. That showed him something really was up. And also that he fucked up big time by running his mouth today. "Hey... Hey, look at me." "What?" "Y'knowv ya can trust me, right? Ya been here for me, wvhat good of a matesprit wvould I be if I didn't do the same?" ... "It's the... the thing, again. This stupid thinkpan of mine can't seem to co-work with my bloodpumper. It's like... Y'know how, like, sometimes the reality hits us? that... that we are gonna be here, forever. We will never grow old, travel the world, or... or have a life, again. We are stuck in the bubbles, and we don't have a future ahead of us anymore. Any... certainty we had once, from the moment our session ended, it will never occur, like, ever again." "Wvoah..." It took a while, the two of you staring at the abyss, on the edge of the dreambubble you two have been sitting on, a special place for you, as this is one of your bubbles. No one said anything. You couldn't feel uncomfortable, at that moment. The lack of emotions took a deep toll on you, but you instinctively looked at Cronus. When he looked at you, however, he didn't seem worried. Or afraid. He took his goofy fake 'human' cigarette put it on the corner of his mouth, and gave you his side grin. Not the smug one, the one he puts whenever he is really confident about what he is going to say. "I mean, ya not wvrong, by any means but... heh... Do ya think it is bad? I mean, hey! Wve are gonna be all here forevwer, so that means wve can at least, like, be together for eternity or wvathevwer. I used to be pretty damn bad wvith these apathy shellnanigans but... I'm not really that afraid anemonemore. I havwe the best fuckin' matesprit in the wvhole 'bubbles and, like, I'm pretty damn shore I can live the rest of a boring eternity if I havwe ya to make it interestin'!" As you two stared to the far, far void of nothing, outside the bubble, you instinctively reached a hand on top of his, which, as always, sent his face into a violet blush mess, and managed to drag a smile and chuckle out of you. "Can't complain with that, really."

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Five Years Later (Another Level Halloween Extra)

Hello! I'm a day late, but inspiration hit me very briefly late last night so I threw this together 😊

Happy Halloween!!

If you haven't already, you can read Another Level on AO3 💕

October 31, 2023 9:18 pm Gojo Residence, Tokyo

“Part of me can’t believe it���s been so long.”

Gojo’s arms tightened slightly as she hummed quietly in response.

They were sitting on the couch, her seated on his lap now that the kids were asleep, a sugar crash inevitable after how much he’d let them consume when she wasn’t looking. Her exasperated glare had only been met with a sheepish grin as he pecked her cheek.

“It feels like it’s been longer than that sometimes,” Rinko admitted, leaning into him. “So much has happened.”

After everything, five years felt like the blink of an eye and an eternity all at once.

“Been a lot of good things, though,” he reasoned, leaning down to press his lips to her neck. “Things have only gone up. Gotta admit I’m pretty fuckin happy with our life right now, baby. Have been since you let me put that ring on your finger.”

Granted, there was really nowhere to go but up after that night in Shibuya, after everything that happened in the weeks following. But things were exponentially better than she could have dreamed.

“I love you,” she murmured, feeling the grin stretch across his face as he nuzzled further into her. “Thank you for our life together so far. I’m excited for the rest of it.”

“I love you, too,” he hugged her tighter. “So fucking much. We still have the rest of our forever ahead of us. I’m excited, too.”

He took a bite of one of the caramel miso butter cookies, holding the other half up for her.

“You still have a problem,” she teased, accepting it and chewing slowly. “But it’s endearing.”

“Can’t complain when you’re the one buying them for me, Rinko-chan,” he pecked her cheek. “The second sweetest thing I’ve ever had.”

Insufferable man, but she still snickered, turning her head to kiss his cheek in return.

“I think everyone had fun earlier,” she noted. “The kids seemed happy.”

“Yeah. Our kids are so perfect, baby,” he murmured, squeezing her hips as he spoke. “Really fucking perfect.” She braced herself when he groaned quietly, leaning down to bite her neck. “Let’s have another baby. Wanna see you all round and full of me again. Fuck, Rinko-chan. Lemme put another one in you-”

[applbottmjeens]

AMERICAN TASTE

Phillip Graves x OC

tags: not super angsty, implied sex, hopeful(?) ending, Graves is a dickhead but he's in love, toxic ass relationship, MDNI anyway

summary: Phillip reminisces about how Anna used to be and who she is now.

Anna used to kiss his scars. 

An adorable gesture, and she definitely wasn't the only one who's done it. 

She didn't ask for stories, for reasons. Only soft kisses on whatever she'd find, and maybe a bite or two just to annoy him.

She took him for who he was- a cocky fuckin' asshole, a traitor, a cunning bastard who would tear her apart.

And she loved him anyway. Adored him like some misguided stray. He'd tell her he wasn't gonna cave into her charming little act so easily and she'd only hear that he called her charming.

What kind of bullshit was that? 

He knew she still loved him now. It's why she was here in his bed in the first place. Right?

But she doesn't kiss him at all. And who could blame her? 

It didn't mean he wasn't…upset by it. Offended even. 

He's said his apologies. Given her space. What about her forgiveness? He'd done so much for her. Given her this job, got her a place to hide from everyone else, got her someone she could trust to watch over the little bundle of joy that bastard from Busan had put in her before he fucked off out of the country. 

And now she couldn't even look at him. All because he said he loved her. 

She's in his bed, lying with her back turned to his as he plants gentle kisses on her back. Her muscles tense, his lips brushing over the tattoo she got in his memory when she was sure he was dead- an ace of spades card on fire, with the words: take this love to my grave.

There's a small bullet scar on her back. It's small and round like a pockmark healed near her shoulder. 

"...Gonna say anything?" He says, her silence more loud than any of the noises they'd made just minutes before.

"Annie?"

She grabs her clothes and slips them back on, not looking at him. The glimpses of her face look hurt. Numb. 

He wants to beg her to stay a little longer. Stay with him in bed, stay with him emotionally. But his pride wouldn't let him. Hadn't he begged her to join the Shadow Company? Wasn't that enough?

He'd taken his Annie for granted. 

Smiling up at him, leaning onto him, randomly sneaking kisses when she was sure nobody was there.

"There's my Phillip!" She'd grin when they were together, and smother him with hugs and he'd only roll his eyes and pretend he wasn't happy to see her too.

To him, there were two women he'd had the privilege of falling for in Annabelle. 

Annie, his adoring little thing whose rose tinted lenses made her see past the red flags. Who loved him like some hopeless teenage girl and got on his nerves for fun. Who played pranks and did everything to make him smile a little when he was around. Who looked damn pretty when she cleaned herself up, whose lipstick smudged perfectly when he messed with her.

And Sergeant Pham, who was just as good as Soap on the field and ambushed enemy soldiers hiding in crawl spaces or in the vents like some vermin. Who wasn't afraid of other people's blood and fought like she wasn't afraid of dying. Who hung onto her superior officer's words like gospel.

He lost his Annie the moment he followed his orders that November. But he gained Sergeant Pham when he'd convinced her that this job would be in her best interests for her son. Some would call it manipulation. He'd call it getting her to see what was best for her. 

Why won't she look at him?

"Hey." Phillip says quietly. "Annie." 

She turns to him, the dim lamp illuminating her face, her expression empty if not inconvenienced.

"...Stay with me." He says, and he swears he sees her eyes show some sort of emotion.

"I have to get up at-"

"Please." His voice cracks at the end. Her pause seems eternal before she crawls back into the sheets with him. She still doesn't face him, but his arms wrap around her waist and he pulls her close, sighing. 

"I love you." He says again. "I missed you so much, Ann." 

Minutes of silence. He's almost ready to just let himself hold her close until he falls asleep and wakes up without her there when he faintly hears her speak.

"...You too."

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: *scratches neck* I'd like to promise you all that this is going somewhere. I'm trying my hardest.

C/W ::: Fighting between Kats and F!reader, general bad feels.

WC ::: Under 800

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

Part IV

You stayed at Katsuki's apartment for another couple of hours, both of you just sitting on the couch in near total silence. You wanted to talk. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. He wouldn't get it. You wouldn't be able to find the words that would make him see why you had to go.

It was the middle of the day when you finally stood up and went to the bedroom. You pulled the drawer open and looked at your clothes. They smelled like him. Like the two of you. It was a mixture of his natural scent and whatever laundry detergent you both used. It was a smell that you didn't think you'd ever get out of your nose.

You took a deep breath and grabbed handfuls of shirts, pants, bras, underwear. You shoved them into your bag and walked out to the kitchen, where Katsuki was standing over the sink. He didn't look up at you. He was looking down at the key in his hands. You could see his eyes were red and swollen. He had been crying, or trying his hardest not to.

He looked up at you and nodded. "You feel better now?" Katsuki asked you. You stood there, eyes and arms wide, holding all of the stuff you gathered up and put in your bag.

"W-what do you mean, do I feel better now? Of course I don't. Why the fuck would I feel better?" You had no idea why he was asking you that. But you were very in tune with him, still, and had a feeling that he was about to explain the reason behind his question. Though it really felt more like an accusation.

Katsuki shrugged and turned back to the sink, running his fingers through his hair, ruffling the top of it like he always does when he's pissed about something. "Well, I don't know. Sometimes you act like you're the only one who has shit they want to run away from. Like you're the only little princess in the world who's got shit on her plate that she don't wanna eat. You think I don't wanna run away? Well, news-fuckin'-flash, darlin'. I fuckin' want to." He was almost yelling.

Your shoulders slumped at his words. "Is that ... that's what you think? That I don't want to eat something on this plate of life and I'm just scooping it off into the garbage and then fishing around for dessert? Y'know, you have a lot of fuckin' nerve comin' at me like this. Insinuating that I'm selfish. You had a fucking bed built into the wall of your shiny new office -"

"That's my job, y/n! It's a part of my goddamn life. A huge part! Why can't you differentiate between my job and my personal lif-" He started.

"Because YOU couldn't! Katsuki, Jesus. You were the one that couldn't turn your cell off at dinner. And that's when you were home for dinner. There were times you didn't come home for days at a time. Why wasn't I a huge part of your life? Don't you start in on that shit about how I didn't know how to separate the two. I can separate plenty." You put your hand over your mouth at the explosion of words that came.

"Yeah," he huffed. "I can see that." He said, sounding so defeated it broke your heart all over again. "Meanwhile, I'm here, holding shit together. Cleaning up the shrapnel of your goddamn collateral damage. I'm not the one who hurt you. You're a selfish brat. When the spotlight isn't on you for 5 seconds, you throw a hissy fit and move on." He was throwing his arms around now. You could see that eternal fire burning out of control in his eyes.

"I'm ... what the fuck. I'm selfish? I'M selfish?! And what collateral damage? What shrapnel are you having to clean up? I'm pretty sure that I left no mess in my wake." Your eyes were narrowed so much you could barely see him anymore.

"Oh, you left a mess all right. A fuckin' tsunami leaves less damage than you." He laughed a little at his analogy but quickly sobered up, letting the smile subside to make room for his classic scowl.

"A tsunami?" You repeated, incredulous. "Are you fucking kidding me? What did I do to deserve that comparison? I was the one who was always here for you. I was the one who went out of my way to make sure you had a warm meal to come home to. And half the time you didn't even call to tell me you weren't going to be home when you thought you'd be or that you weren't going to be home at all."

You wanted to slap him. You wanted to wipe that stupid scowl right off of his stupid face. But he was always 2 steps ahead of you. He knew your tells. What your breaking points were. Katsuki always saw them coming from a mile away.

You started to cry. You couldn't believe that this is where you'd ended up. That this was the final scene in your love story.

Taglist ::: @darkstarlight82 @millennialmagicalgirl @arlerts-angel

[bebethsas]

*giglgles* here’s a rant I’ve had sitting in my drafts for a bit now. I think now is the perfect time to post it. Enjoy Beth’s impassioned ramblings from ~1 month ago (and sorry in advance, I know that this is LONG):

“Chrissy…this is for you.”

 Holyjesusmotherof—

I am on the floor. I am dead. I am lying on my stomach, staring off into the middle distance with a look that can only be described as stunned disbelief, or just straight-up stunned. They would have been a f*cking powderkeg, wouldn’t they?

Dear mother of god, the way he says that, so softly, so reverently, I…

If they’d been given just a smidge more time, they (yes, they) would have loved each other so *fiercely*.

They would have been goddamn explosive. They would have (accidentally) rocked the school to its foundations and razed the HS to the ground (more like, they exist, and the high school tears itself apart because of their relationship’s existence). There is no doubt in my mind that if there was a sliver of a chance for one of them to bring the other back from the dead, they’d do it.

Like, the kind of love where you claw through brick and cinderblock with your bare hands to reach them, and you don’t notice until long afterwards that you’ve torn like…six of your nails, and your hands are bleeding. And sure, you have to keep your hands wrapped in bandages for the next couple of weeks while they heal, but who cares??? What does it matter?? They’re alive, you found them, they’re here. Like the minute one of them is in danger, the other person doesn’t hesitate, they just leap.

Like, yo Bangles, you wanna talk Eternal Flame? That’s an eternal flame. Like, a flame that keeps burning over centuries kind of “Eternal” flame; like the Olympic fire that they’re supposed to keep burning forever and ever (it doesn’t, but shhhhh), like a candle in a sea of darkness that against all odds never, ever goes out. That’s the kind of love I mean here.

Like, saying ‘I’ll find you in the next life,’ and then they do, kind of eternal flame.

Like, “death cannot stop true love, it can only delay it a little while,” kind of un-douseable flame. Not an uncontrollable wildfire, or even a small campfire. Just, this strong yet persevering little candle that provides comfort, joy, and light. Doesn’t hurt nobody, isn’t insatiably hungry or all-consuming, it just…is.

They are an example of true love, and no one can convince me otherwise. And I mean actual true love, like 2 puzzle pieces that naturally click together. It’s like they were made for each other, but it was an *accident*.

It’s not like a deity took a soul, split it in half, and then zotted these 2 halves down onto earth and went ‘here, now go find each other.’ It’s more like they created one soul, and then created another soul, and by sheer coincidence or serendipity or chance or whatever, these two line up perfectly, with no imperfections or jagged bits in the way.

They are Agatha and Oliver (I will elaborate on another post, christ this post got fuckin long).

Jesus christ how can I be so damn shook over one line, that it’s making me spiral and pull out analogies and references that are *deeply* buried in my brain??

I’m gonna end up writing a gottdamn thesis on (the way I view) their relationship, aren’t I?

…yes. Yes, I probably am.

  Anyway, that’s the tale of when I first saw the scene, and had to have a bit of a lie-down for a while, because thoughts were spiraling.

...ok, I wrote tags for this, then realized that I should probably put them in the body of the post too. So:

#no joke those 2 seconds of “Chrissy...this is for you” used to make me literally so weak, that I had to dramatically lean on furniture to stay upright. #the emotion #the goddamn EMOTION

#and Chrissy is such a sweetheart, #and Eddie was so kind and gentle with her...

#you know, you just KNOW, that she would have loved him with the fierceness of a lioness

#because when you’re sad, and scared, and lonely, and feel like none of your supposed ‘loved ones’ can or will listen--or even care (let alone ask) about how you’re doing

#and you are doing EVERYTHING you can just to continue on, #with seemingly ZERO support #to have someone come along and *help* you, #no questions asked, #no returned favors needed or asked for

#to have someone instantly *know* that you’re going through it, #respect your need for privacy, #and treat you so gently and reverently, #like you’re worthy of being loved???

(and again, not comment on the fact that you’re *clearly* going through it, because they respect that it’s probably not any of their business, and you probably don’t *want* to talk about it, and even though you *should* talk about it, they’re not going to push you)

#yeah. #even if they weren’t interested in you romantically, it’s too late #they have your heart now and forever

#genuinely kind people are not easy to find #don’t get me wrong they *exist*, #they’re not *rare*, #they’re just hella hard to FIND

#so once you DO find one?? #yeah you’re glomming onto that person like a barnacle and refusing to let go

[theuniverseawakens347]

Trying to make it seem like Howard was responsible for gilbreana death .. I literally get off on her picture being hung up in the house and sent pornography to the White House off his computer from the robbery may 21 to not be caught for UR WHOLE WILLING PART IN HER MURDER.

And ur switched ur computer w Howard’s computer ..

Then wiped his and took it for ur own .. WHILE U WENT TO THE CABIN THATS WILD LEE

Meh came back to HIS LAPTOP MISSING OFF HIS DESK … but REALLY ITS UR LAPTOP THE FUCKING APPLE ID DOESNT EVEN MATCH HIS RECEIPT FOR THE COMPUTER YAL BOUGHT ME ..AND MINE WASNT WVEN IN THE HOUSE AT THE TIME I WAS AT AVA AND MINE GOT NIGGAS IS GODS ( incriminating) WEED STICKERS ALL OVER IT LEE

And I replaced my COVER ABD ATILL GOT WEED STICKERS ON MINE ..

U GIYS GOT THE SMOOTH GREY ONES BUT LIKE AGAIN .. APPLE ID LEE .. u really don’t know how to work a computer or

U paid Alissa AND FRIENDS OF IAN TO LITERALLY “HACK IT” WILLINGLY GAVE PASSWORD AND SEND NUDES FROM HOWARDS EMAIL ..

HE SIGNED IN ONCE AND LEFT IT OPEN ..

BITXH U SENT THE NUDES UR SELF THEN HAD MOFO STEAL THE COMPUTER TO “HIDE THE EVIDENCE “ and then tell Ian to take Howard’s safe of guns and go committ a murder which h4_eazy “did” and GOT CAUGHT W REGISTERED GUNS N HOWARDS NAME N CHRIS TRIED TO SAY HOWARD KILLED ALEXIS … CAUSE THAT CASE WAS BEING REOPENED

All this was being reopened ON MY FAMILY CAUSE IT LITERALLY GOES RIGHT BACK TO U ALISSA SAYING SHE DIDNT KNOW ..BITCH I SEEN LEXI FACE WE LOOK LIKE TWINS YEAH IT WAS BEFORE WE MET AND CHRIS U BEEN FUCKIN KNEW MY NIGGA WE WENT TO 54 th together no wonder Myron played stupid when Lauryn Reese brought me around

ALL. YALL NIGGAS BEEN AFTER ME N MY FAMILY ON BEHALF OF LEE ARLVICTORIALONGTON FAMILY SINCE THE BEGINNING TIME LEE ANTI MASONS VS MANSON ( MY FAMILY IN THE-SKY )

GIRL BYE LIKE BE SO FUCKING FR. EVERY FRIEND IVE HAD AROUND ME KNEW U ONE WAY OR ANOTHER AND WAS PAID OFF OR THREATEN TO HIDE MY TRUTH U BEEEEEN ALWAYS KNEW WHAT THE FUCK WAS UP W ME OR ELSE U WEIRDO BITCHES WOULDNT HAVE WORKED SO HARD. NO MATTER HOW I SAY IT YAL BIGGAS KNOW IT ALWAYS TURNS ME U OBVIOUS THE FUCK LY KNOWING IM GOD AND UR SATAN AS FUCK.

Chris UR A DICK HEAD WILLINGLY KILLING ALEXIS AND PASSING CHILD PORN TO PUT ON HOWARD NUGENT CAUSE LEE SAID YAL WOULD GET OUT DUE TO LEGAL BACKING .. what bitch, KILLING ME!?

HOW U GON KILL ME WHEN U KNOW IM ETERNAL AND U SHOWED ME LAW ABIDING CITIZEN MY TRUTH.

But you REAL LIFE DIDNT WANT DIE ALONE. SO UR HOLDING HOWARD HOSTAGE WHO UNALSO KNW IS ONE OF MINE .. AND THEN ROOED THE KIDS INTO IT INCASE HE LEAVES U

He real life like bomb protection squad rn and I’m real life hostage til I SAID ALL THIS CAUSE U TOOK BITCH MADE TO SPEAK UP DAWG HOE. THATS SAD. ALL THAT CRIME BUT U CANT PUT YO FUCKING CHEST OUT AND TAKE THE TIME .. THEN WHY FUCKING DO IT ..

Trying to claim insanity card THATS WHY U HAD THE KIDS DO ALL THIS CAUSE UR REAL LIFE EMBARRASSED THAT THUS IS LEGIT U AS A PERSON NATURALLY AS I STARED ON THE BLOG AND AT 11 when I said I hated u for some fucking reason .. BITCH I MEAN 🤯 WHAT LEE U COULDNT SAY “CASH UR GAWD IM THE DEVIL”

UR AFRAID OF DEATH BUT URSELF IN A FEDERAL FUCKING CASE AND ROPED IDIOT KIDS INTO SO U COULD FEEL SMARTER THAN SOMEONE .. Therese turned .. FAMILY PAID OFF BY HOWARD TO MAKE RIGHT TURN THEMSELVES IN ADMIT TO ME AND THEN I PAY THEM OFF TO NOT DONIT .. NATIONAL TERRORIST DID THE SAME TO FRIENDS BUT U WANA OPEN AN HARASSMENT CASE ON ME .. MY NIGGA U CANT BE FOR REAL ..HAVE U BEEN MEDICATED THIS WHOLE TIKE FOR A MENTAL ILLNESS AND AINT TELL NO ONE AND ALL OF A SUDDEN STOP TAKING MEDS CAUSE I SAID WHATEVER U GAVE ME AT THE PSYCHWARD GOES RIGHT BACK TO U???

Girl .. BUT IM MENTALLY UNstaBLE?

EVEN WHEN KNOWING THE SHIT WAS AWFUL FOR ME I STILL TOOK IT ALL OF IT WVEN AT ST FRANCIS.

My nigga take it to the chin WTF U DO THIS FOR.

U put me in psych wards cause that was a projection of ur own truth like trying to sell a fucking pound of OH SO CLEARLY SHIT WEED.

My nigga I really been living 21 YEARS W A PSYCHO WHO PUT ME IN HER CARE AFTER EVERY FUCKING THING IVE GONE THRU BEFORE THE “adoption”

LIKE THIS REAL LIFE CANT BE FUCKING FOR REAL .. YAL SAID “oh I go on psych meds ( AT DUMB ASS FUCK NICKI) and we’ll give cashay to you” AFTER SHE MURDERED MY LITTLE SIATWR COUSIN GILBREANA

And then before my 16th and Lexi 15th she planned to have Tyler Ian Alissa WILLING SICK BITCH and CHRIS WILLING BUT GON LIE INWAS IN A ROUGH PLACE W ALEX MADE ME DO IT TRYING TO PROVE MYSELF U STILL HAD A CHOICE. U CHOSE STREET LIFE MY NIGGA TF U JOIN THE GANG IF U CANT HANG PUNK BITCH ..like DAQUAN TRYSHA WILLING FOR SOME ALIEN BLOOD OR MY FUCKING MONEY.. THAT BITCH PUT A BOUNTTY ON MY HEAD. NICKI AND U WILLINGLY TURNED ME OVER TO HER

Askari TELEPATHIC BITCH U BEEN LYING TO HIM FOR A MINUTE THAT NIGGA BEEEEEEN STEPPING IN BEHIND THE SCENES ON THE BACK END .. UR WORK FALLING THRU CAUSE THAT NIGGA LOOOKING OUT FOR ME HOWARD TOO

..

But you REALLY LET IT get to some crazy ass level of extortion Lee .. KILL ME N U WIN THE GAME OF LIFE AND GET ETERNITY INTO THE NEXT LEVEL ..yal niggas that stupid??? THATS WILD

So basically 1. U KNEW

2. I TRIED TO ASSASSINATE GOD ..I thought you satanic fucks READ THE BIBLE??

DONT U KNOW SATAN “TAKING OVER” WAS A TRICK TO PROVE U ARE LITTERALY FUCKING VILE DIGUSTING BEINGS.

I really think u gon out rank THE CREATOR OF ALL OF SPACE.

I’m 4 quadrillion years old and literal fucking projecting of the universe IN HUMAN FORM.

A Simulation. I DIE WE ALL DIE. AGAIN WORLD WIDE GENOCIDE LEE.

Start the “game of life” ALL OVER .. I CHOOSE WHEN WE COME BACK AND GUESS WHAT 5 major resets U THOUGHT I WAS DUMB ENOUGH EVEN MEDICATED AS FUCK THE WAY U DID ME I WAS JUST GOING TO HAVE IT BE LIKE ALL THE ORHER TIKES??

U KNOW HOW LONG U ALONE BEEN DOING THIS DUMB SHIT IN A DIFFERENT BODY SUIT CHARLES LITERALLY FUCKING MANSON.

Nicki .. Marlyn Manson. Like wtf yal.

WHY WOULD I REPEAT THE SAME THING AND EXPECT A NEW OUTCOME..UR INSANE NOT ME ALSO GOD OVERSEES ALL BEFORE IT HAPPENS ONLY ME AND RIGHTFUL FAMILY CAN SEE THE FUTURE ..but it’s like at what point do YOU STOP AND MAKE BETTER FUCKING CHOICES.

Yal CLEARLY ARE REAL LIFE ILL INTENT PEOPLE. MALCOM INCLUDED. TRYING TO PUT IT ON ASKARI. .. nigga no.

Generational curses in a weird fucking way.

THIS IS WILD LEE AND NICKI RING LEADERS TO THE ANTI MASONS KILLING AND LIVING OFF MY FAMILY.

HOWARD AND ASKARI THE OTHER SIDE FIGHTING PROTECTING AND LOOKING OUT.

Lee u BEEEN GOT NEWS OF THIS BEING FEDERAL AND AINT TOLD NO ONE. HOWARD AND ASKARI WENT BEHIND UR BACK AND MADE RIFHT TO THISE INNOCENT AND ROPED INTO UR MIS GUIDEDNESS LIKE THERESE W RIVER / Patrick ( sorry) and JEAN w Bonnie/ forest .. U MANAGE TO TRY N PUT THAT ON ME CAUSE U STRUGFLE W GENDER AND EQUALITY AND U HATE GAYS U HATE ANYTHING THAT ISNT WHITE OR SLAVERY.

Literally what I put on the blog about in 2020 was VERY REAL AND MY BRAIN REAWAKENING OUT SHADOW MODE AND I TOLD U IN A 10 PAGE LETTER I FOUND MY FOREVER PERSON TRISTAN ❤️❤️ and U DECIDED NAW KILL THE WHOLE WORLD.

I made myself, bae and A WHOLE LOT MORE OF ME .. like be so fucking fr.. u clearly DONT believe in God and NEVER read the Bible to think U COULD KILL ME AND GET AWAY WITH IT LIKE NO ONE WAS GUNA SERVE JUSTICE??

🤯🤯🤯

Clearly I’m still under medicine cause .. the punkd kids gotta come out w cameras this really can’t be what u thought

AND U IDIOT CHILDREN CHRIS FELL FOR IT DEEPLY. HAD U KNOW IT WAS MY FAMILY U WOULDNT HAVE .. NIGGA WE WENT TO ELEMENTARY TOGETHER U SEEN MY FACE I GOT A VERY PROMINATE NAME U USE IT EVERYDAY FUCKING CASH BITCH.

This can’t be real life rn .. THIS FR YALL? THATS wild A NIGGA IS REAL LIFE CRAZY .. going to the psychward in 23 and Howard being there u was talking to him that u real life need help.. I seen inside I’m not admitting thru me that “I’m sick” being u.. I will say I AM SICK N TIRED OF UR FUCKING INSANITY .. U DO NEED HELL IF THIS IS FR .. but like u speak to me n projection about ur life .. that’s not working for me Lee .. I see inside u ur guilty and need help but lady u did the 5,8, and 9th step … 38 years right? FUCKING SHOW IT.

[shaebertooth]

I want to go ahead and apologize now to anyone who is still waiting on a commission from me. I know of like two off the top of my head, but please keep in mind I do suffer from memory loss problems so I may need a reminder if you're unsure if I recall you or not.

My life this year had started off in a not-so-great way, and while it's no excuse, it has greatly affected my mental and physical health in ways I'm actually pretty afraid of, given my recent bout with a hospital stay and surgery.

My current home is owned by someone I thought was a friend of mine. He bought the house back in 2019 with the full intention of us moving in together: his sister, Cori, myself, and him of course. This was all great until his sister turned into an absolute nightmare of a roommate, moved out (and ran off to florida with some online friend) and left us high and dry.

So we found another roommate, and things were decent from there.. until towards the end of last year.

Main roommate in question took a trip to chicago to be with some friends, and ended up falling in love with the place, and planned to move there eventually - okay, not so bad, we were all okay with this, we knew it was happening.

Then my surgery happened. Along with being unable to work until January 1st when I was finally cleared, and now trying to scramble to find a job, and throwing out anywhere between 5-10 applications a day. In the meantime it's fallen on my poor girlfriend to pay my portion of the bills, which I am eternally grateful for, but also dreading and ashamed of. I owe her the fucking world.

All of a sudden, my roommate has put his foot down saying he's selling the house by the end of March. April is as long as he's giving us to figure out things out and find a place to go. girlfriend's mom's apartment is way too small, and doesn't allow for the 3 cats we have, and my mom sold her house shortly after we moved into the new house, and lives in a senior apartment complex. Neither places are places we can go to.

When we tried to plead our case, stating to him that my bank needs *60 days* of work history to help me with a house loan.. he simply shrugged his shoulders and walked out. In his exact words on discord, he stated "As the owner of the property this is my decision and it is non-negotiable." AKA he doesn't care what happens to us, he's dead-set on going to chicago, with those rose-tinted glasses glued to his face. This was what he sent to us yesterday. Saturday the 14th.

Needless to say.. my emotional state is a wreck. I'm worried I won't find a job in time, worried we'll have to move way far away from where we've settled, flip everything around to start somewhere else.. and before anyone tries to suggest apartment hunting: we can't. My girlfriend is self-employed making iron-on patches, which involves a LOT of noise running constantly. Embroidery machines and sewing machines all times of the night/day.

We would either need to specifically be placed in a corner lot where we can't disturb anyone, or luck out and have some deaf neighbors. It would also need to accept 3 cats, as these cats are *not* going anywhere else but with us.

I'm so fucking stressed to the point of headaches, and my body thinking it's time for my monthly flow.. all month long. It's scaring me that all of this is happening, and I'm dreading another hospital stay, especially because my surgery site still bleeds from time to time.

So, I apologize if I've been slow with activity or you're waiting on something from me. My life is being quite literally ripped out from under my feet, and there's not much I can really do about it except to pray for a job and grind myself into dust trying to make a living. In this fuckin american economy.

I wish I could get a fucking break.

[yeah-they-call-me-d]

honestly, i have tried to not let it bother me but the fact that k was already dating someone 2 months after we broke up is kind of atrocious to me. what was the point of making s scene. waking me up 6 am to yell at me and realize you absolutely fucked me. you had bitches lined up bro. YOU KNEW this shit was over too. you wouldNt have been makin your fucking contingency plan. or maybe you negated to listen when i would say “i just don’t feel like we’re close anymore” and then you proceed to do nothing. i don’t even care that you did nothing, honestly, it isn’t the part that bothers me. it’s you doing nothing but proceeding to pretend to give s fuck and then instantly a day later you’re on dating apps. yeah what i did was gross, but at least it was someone that i have genuinely loved/been in love with. honestly; maybe mine is worse. i went into a relationship knowing i was still in love with someone else. i took the option that felt safer to me. in all honesty, it really wasn’t much more safe because i look at shit i have posted, old text convos with cara, with a*****, and i was so unhappy. the fact that of all the things i said. the thing that i said to a***** about i would never marry someone without a prenup, and you saying that hurt the most to me really fucked me up.

i don’t get that honestly. why the fuck were you with me? i’m so tired of feeling like the mother fucker that can help get people out of bad situations. honestly, at this point, i probably don’t even have the right to ask. the thing is you hate HIM for agreeing with me. brother, i have so much to lose and i don’t trust that a singular person actually fucking likes me. also, to be completely honest, you can be upset about what i said to *******, but what in the actual fuck are you doin in my phone lookin at what a***** and i are fuckin talking about. i lost every single person in my life defending you in our relationship. i’m lucky that ****** came in and swooped me into a solid friend group because they have done a really good job of keeping me stable. my boy j**** on the other hand has stoked the fire within me to do everything i shouldn’t.

i am so tired of things interfering with my life. i am so tired of me, myself, being the biggest interference. imagine i had just shut my fucking mouth. imagine that i just let it fucking go and left you alone. maybe you would have come back. i keep shooting myself in the foot because i freak the fuck out. i pushed you so far away by never being able to shut my fucking mouth with you. i have truly devolved into exactly what i have been avoiding for so long. i wish i could have continued on the same path of never loving and maybe things would be better. i fell in love with the thing i could never have. to love you has been the best and worst feelings i have ever had. to love you and be around you was a feeling i’ve never experienced. it was happiness. contentment. to love you and be away from you was the worst fucking thing i have ever experienced. there were times before this year that it hurt, but this time around hit me far differently. i think that’s probably because for the first time, i realized that every single issue was always my fault. you tried your best and i was never content with that. but then, i get confused because your worst with other people was sometimes better than the best of what i got. i fell so deeply in love with you that the more you pushed the more i pulled. you did not like that. you ask for space over and over and over again. why can i leave everyone alone for eternity and feel nothing, then it comes to you and my foundation starts to crack. you aren’t responsible for holding my ass together. why do i let that be the case? why do i put this weird pressure on you that i need you? why do i need you? i have gone so long being okay with being alone. i sat in a five year relationship having a physical body, but being completely alone in my mind. why this time, did i cling so hard to you? it was never fair to you. none of this ever was. i am undeserving of your love. i am 26. i act like a 16 year old emotionally.

why do i have to be in love with you? i really don’t understand this. i don’t want to love. all that this has done has made me hurt myself. compare myself to others. try to be what you want. i don’t even know who i am half of the time. i am tired of having two voices in my head and neither of them feel like me. for some reason, being around you made me feel more myself than i have been in so long. i have never been comfortable where i land. everytime i end somewhere new it feels uncomfortably foreign. why can you see through my façade? i don’t want to be seen. why can you see through it, but no one else can? i feel i have given you less of a taste than others, but you still call me out immediately before i even realize i am doing something. why do you make me feel understood? why is it that in a room full of people, i can feel completely alone, but in a room with just you i feel full inside? what is wrong with me?

i’ve never thought that i was actually capable of being in love. i didn’t know love was an emotion in my repertoire. i thought that i had a heart of stone. i thought i could manipulate my way through life, never actually having to feel. there has never been a desire to feel. i can tell you that i have gone the majority of my life not feeling. it was always concerning to my mom. in high school i just turned my emotions off. my mom saw the light you created in me. she was never entirely comfortable with me being gay. i would talk to her about you and i could see her recoil at the thought. then one day, it switched. she saw this light inside of me that had been burnt out for so long. it made her happy. it made me feel something. i honestly don’t know that i had ever experienced a real emotion until i met you. i feel like i have always reacted in the way that people around me acted in situations. when people die around me, i don’t cry because i feel something. i cry because i know that’s what you are supposed to do. i have never cried real genuine tears until you left the first time. it sucks even more so because i have done increasingly dangerous things to feel something. or maybe it is stop feeling. how do i turn off what i did not turn on? i don’t even know what switch flipped. i just know it being on is making me a little insane. i wish you would just say you love me. i wish you would just come back. i don’t mind feeling, its nice sometimes, but this has been the opposite of nice. i am so scared and sad and nervous. why, for the love of god, why me?

i’m going to actually follow through and go ghost for a little bit. maybe forever. i just need some silence in my head and i don’t think i am allowing for myself to have that. maybe a week, a month, a year. idrk. i am shattering and i want someone to load the gun so i can pull the trigger. that will tell me it is okay to do. i know a few avenues that i can receive that from so i may go put my nose in more places it doesn’t belong. it won’t feel the same but if i pretend it could be the correct size.

[drabbles-mc]

Disaster Dates: Dejavu

Gilly Lopez x F!Reader

Disaster Dates Masterlist

Prompt from This Post: Person A surprises Person B by taking them out on a date that they’ve planned but what Person A doesn’t realize is that they’ve taken Person B to the same place that Person B and their ex used to go to together.

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, awkward tension

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: I’ve re-written this about 10 times. I’m finally setting this one free out into the universe. Fun fact: this isn’t the only Disaster Dates prompt I plan on doing for Gilly. So stay tuned!

General Mayans Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @paintballkid711​ @tomhardydallasstarsgirl​ @kelpies-shed​ @sesamepancakes​ @yourwonkywriter​ @chibsytelford​ @gemini0410​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @plentyoffandoms​ @georgiaaintnopeach​ @twistnet​ @garbinge​ @themoonandthewicked​ @bucky-iss-bae​ @encounterthepast​ @bport76​ @rosieposie0624​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ @blessedboo​ @holl2712​ @lakamaa12​ @masterlistforimagines​ @toni9​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @crowfootwrites​ @redpoodlern​ @punkgoddess-98​ @black-repunzel99​ @lexondeck​ @fanfic-n-tabulous​ @amorestevens​ @angelreyesisdaddy04​ @mijagif​ @frattsparty​ @winchestershiresauce​ @bellisperennis0​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @mveggieburger​ @thanossexual​​ @xeniarocks​​ @choochoo284​​ @littlekittymeow​​ @beardsanddetectives​​ @bruxasolta​​ @i-love-scott-mccall​​ @slut-bitch-brat​​ @withmyteeth​​ @passionatewrites​​ (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, let me know!)

“Alright,” Gilly looked in the mirror, fussing with the cuffs of his shirt for a moment as he tried to quietly hype himself up, “it’s gonna be good. It’s gonna, it’s gonna be fuckin’ good.”

It was the best he had been able to come up with in light of how jumbled his brain had been all day, all week if he was being honest. He’d never been good at pep talks to begin with, but when he was supposed to be doing them for himself? Forget it. Not happening. But he was trying. He wanted all the help that he could get for tonight. He’d spent far too much time pining after you before he finally bucked up and asked you on a date. He’d been so ready for you to shoot him down that he almost didn’t know how to react when you said yes.

It wasn’t like he had been shooting his shot with someone that he didn’t know. The two of you had talked and spent a decent amount of time together at the clubhouse. He knew that you must’ve liked spending time with him on some level, otherwise you would’ve told him to fuck off a long time ago. He’d seen you do it to other people. It should’ve taken some of the pressure off, but it didn’t.

And now he was in charge of putting together a date for the two of you. He wasn’t planning out anything too intensive—that wasn’t his style. He wanted it to be nice, comfortable. First dates were enough pressure on their own without adding extra hoops to try and jump through.

He grabbed his helmet and glasses on his way out the door, grabbing an extra of each for you to wear as well. He’d never seen you on the back of anyone’s bike, and it made him wonder if you’d ever ridden before.

It was a quick ride to your house, and he was wondering if that was working out in his favor or not. It was less time to try and rehearse what he was going to say, but it was also less time to overthink every possible way that the evening could go wrong. Hanging his helmet off the handlebar, he took a deep breath and set his shoulders back before walking up the driveway to your door. He hesitated for a moment before knocking, but he managed to will himself to do it.

The twenty seconds it took you to come to the door may as well have been an eternity according to Gilly. He was nervously picking at the stitching on his kutte when you opened the door, and you couldn’t help but to fight back a chuckle at the sight. Nervous Gilly was something you never thought you’d live to see, but there he was.

“Hey,” you smiled as you stepped out and pulled the door shut behind you, “Ready to go?”

“Yea,” he nodded, trying to sound more confident than he felt, “ready if you are.”

“Perfect,” you gave him a nod before turning around to lock the door to your house. You gestured to your short walkway, “After you.”

The two of you walked over to the bike, and Gilly’s nerves were audible in his voice, “Hope you don’t mind, I figured we’d take the bike. I brought you shit to wear—helmet and stuff.”

“Oh?” your eyes lit up, “I’ve never ridden before.”

“Yea,” he turned, your helmet in his hands, “I figured,” without thinking better of it, he reached forward and placed the helmet on your head, carefully clipping the strap beneath your chin with more gentleness than you’d ever seen from him before. You bit lightly at your bottom lip as you tried to control the butterflies in your stomach.

He triple-checked that you were good for him to take off. You appreciated the extra concern, but you were too busy enjoying the closeness of having your arms wrapped around him and your chest pressed to his back to really be all that scared. When he started the bike, you couldn’t help but to let out a giggle, being on the back of the bike was so different when you’d spent so long just listening to them come in and out of the lot.

The two of you cruised down the familiar streets of Santo Padre. What little tension you’d had over riding the bike quickly melted away the longer the two of you rode.  Gilly could feel you relaxing against him and he was glad that you couldn’t see the cheesy grin on his face.

There wasn’t much in Santo Padre that would be new to you at this point. However, as Gilly pulled into the parking lot of his restaurant of choice, a knot began to form in your stomach. Nothing was new to you, sure, but this place was familiar for all the wrong reasons. There was no way that he would know that, though.

The chances of your ex being there were slim. Friday nights he was usually out bar-hopping with his buddies. But that wouldn’t change the fact that most of the wait staff were going to recognize you, and immediately associate you with your ex because this was one of both of your favorite spots for date night. You weren’t sure how to try and say any of that to Gilly, or if you should even try to. Bringing up your ex on the first date didn’t seem like the best move, but what seemed like a worse outcome was someone else bringing it up instead.

It felt incredibly quiet when the sound of the motorcycle engine died off. Bracing yourself against Gilly’s shoulders, you managed to get off the bike with relative ease. Gilly offered to take your helmet, hanging it up with his own. You adjusted your top, trying to push the uninvited nervous thoughts from your mind.

“My buddy started working here a couple months ago,” Gilly spoke as the two of you walked towards the main doors of the restaurant, “he’s their new head chef. Best fuckin’ cook I’ve ever met in my life,” he laughed as he pulled the door, holding it open for you.

You laughed, “Oh really?”

“Yea,” he walked in behind you, “and I’m picky so, you know,” he laughed, “he’s good.” He watched as you laughed and shook your head before asking, “You ever been here before?”

Now would be the opportune time to say what had been on your mind since you rolled into the parking lot, but you just couldn’t quite force it. You shook your head, “Not in a long time. Certainly not since they apparently got the best chef in Santo Padre.”

“So you haven’t really been here,” you weren’t sure if the grin on his face alleviated the twinge of guilt in the back of your mind or made it worse.

As the two of you made your way over to your booth, you couldn’t deny the fact that you’d missed the place. It was cozy, comfortable. All warm colors and old-school art covering the walls.

“So,” you looked over the menu before looking across the table at Gilly, “since you have all the insider-info now, what should I get? What’s your friend’s specialty?”

Gilly chuckled, shaking his head, “What isn’t?” looking from the menu back to you, he asked, “What do you usually get when you go out somewhere?”

“Ohh, getting right into the hard-hitting questions, I see,” you joked, “I usually—”

“Oh my god!” your waitress stopped at the end of the table, a bright smile on her face when she saw you, “I haven’t seen you in forever!”

You hoped your smile looked more convincing than it felt, “Yea, it’s been a minute, huh?”

“How’ve you been?”

You gave a tight nod, not wanting to take your discomfort out on her since she was just being nice but wanting the conversation to be over as quickly as possible, “I’ve been good. You?”

“Oh, you know,” she laughed and shrugged, “Can’t complain,” she paused, looking back and forth between you and Gilly, “Sorry—I always get carried away. Anything to drink for either of you?”

As much as you impulsively wanted to drown your discomfort in alcohol, you knew better. You played it safe with water, albeit a little begrudgingly. Gilly ordered a beer but as soon as the waitress turned to walk away, you felt him looking at you even though your eyes had dropped back down to the menu. He waited a few seconds for you to say something, but when you didn’t he couldn’t help himself.

“I thought that I was the one who was gonna know people here.”

You let out a quiet chuckle, “It’s a small town, right?”

He could see it in your eyes that there was something just a little off, “You good?”

“Yea,” you nodded, trying to convince yourself as much as you were him, “Yea I’m good.”

He was about to ask if you were sure, if there was something you wanted to talk about, but before he could get a word out the waitress popped up again. She set your drinks down and tucked the tray underneath her elbow. You could tell by the way she stood and shifted her weight that she was about to say more, ask more questions, all the things you didn’t want her to. There wasn’t anything that you could do about it though.

“You know it’s funny, Bryan came in a couple nights ago with a few of his friends. We were slammed so I couldn’t stop and talk, but I was going to ask him how you were doing.”

You wished that the hardwood floors would swallow you whole, “He probably wouldn’t have had much to tell you.”

           The confusion on her face was impossible to miss, but when she looked back and forth between you and Gilly again, you could see all the pieces come together inside her brain. Her eyes grew wide and she shook her head at herself.

“Oh, shit. I, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think—”

You smiled awkwardly, shaking your head to stop her, “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“Right,” she almost couldn’t make eye contact with either of you, “You two need a minute before you order?”

You nodded, “Please, yea.”

“I’ll be back in a few, then,” she shot you another apologetic look before scampering off to her other tables.

The silence felt heavy as it took over the table. You nervously twisted your fingers as you tried to figure out what to say. Gilly was very clearly trying to come up with the right thing to say after that entire interaction. And, to be completely fair, you had no idea how you would’ve handled it if the roles had been reversed. Neither of you had done anything wrong, but the tension in the air wasn’t the kind that you had been hoping for.

He cleared his throat, drumming his fingers on the tabletop, “So…Bryan?”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you fought the urge to drop your face into your hands, “Yea…”

“I’m guessing he isn’t the dude who used to be the chef here?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head, “Um, no. No he wasn’t.”

“Shit,” he shook his head, “I’m sorry.”

Your brows knit together, “You don’t have anything to be sorry about. It’s not like you knew.”

“Yea, but,” he sighed, eyes dropping back to the table, “you know, first date could’ve been fuckin’ anywhere but I had to pick your ex’s spot?”

You chuckled, “Some people might call that a red flag,” you saw the look on his face and couldn’t stop your smile, “But I think a much larger red flag is the fact that you’re friends with Angel.”

It got him to laugh. Shaking his head, he took a sip of his beer, “Angel’s friends with me.”

“Right,” the tension dissipated slightly.

Taking a deep breath, he said, “If you wanna go somewhere else…”

You shook your head, “No, no. Don’t be ridiculous. Besides, then I’m just gonna be left wondering if you were full of shit about your friend being a good cook.”

“You think I’d ever lie about good food?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, feeling a little lighter, “Guess I’ll have to wait and see,” you both laughed for a moment. When it was quiet between you again, you said, “I was gonna say something when we got here, but I didn’t know what to say without sounding weird. Thought bringing up my ex on the first date might be—”

“A red flag?” there was a smirk on his face.

You laughed, “Yea, a red flag.”

Both of you spotted the waitress on her way back over. Gilly looked down at the menu and then back up at you, “You trust me?”

You chuckled, “Seems like a loaded question for a first date.”

He smiled, rolling his eyes, “You trust me about food?”

You nodded, “Yea. That’s subject to change depending on how tonight goes, though.”

He ordered a few things for the two of you to share. And, you had to admit, that was a responsibility that you would trust him with a lot more in the future. You’d been worried that one, or both, of you wasn’t going to be able to recover from the initial fumble of the evening, but after a few minutes you both seemed to get your groove back. You could tell that Gilly was still a little nervous, and now he had the thought of your ex lingering over his head, but it didn’t seem to get to him too much.

Both of you looked down at the last flauta on the plate before looking back at each other. You both laughed but before he could beat you to it, you reached out and snatched it up. He chuckled, shaking his head at the triumphant grin on your face as he leaned back in the booth.

“Told you,” he said as he nodded towards the food in your hand, “it’s good shit.”

“Yea,” you nodded, “I guess your buddy sort of knows what he’s doing.”

Even after all the empty plates had been cleared from the table, neither of you were in a huge rush to leave. You each leaned in just a bit, forearms braced on the edge of the table as you talked, and people-watched. You were fairly certain that you’d never met anyone before who would whip up funny one-liners as quickly as he could. If it wouldn’t have been obnoxious, you would’ve stayed there until the place closed.

As the two of you walked back to his bike, you slid your arm to that it was interlocked with his. Squeezing yourself to him for a moment, you said, “Thank you for this,” your gaze dropped to the ground as a grin took over your face, “This was fun.”

He chuckled, trying not to get too distracted by the way you kept yourself pressed to him, “Thanks for not bailing on me.”

“I wouldn’t just bail,” you paused, “How would I get home?”

He rolled his eyes, playfully trying to pull away from you but you only tightened your grip, “Fuckin’ ridiculous,” he laughed. He looked over at you when the two of you got to his bike, “You wanna pick the spot next time?”

“Next time?” you raised your eyebrows as you grabbed the helmet you’d worn before.

All the nervousness returned to his face immediately, “Uh, yea, I mean, if you wanna. I didn’t mean to just—”

You cut him off by handing his helmet back to him, “Relax. As long as we can still take the bike, I’ll pick the spot.”

He let out a quiet sigh of relief, “Alright.”

“So,” you clipped the strap underneath your chin, “Where did you and your ex like to go?”

He rolled his eyes but he couldn’t help but laugh, “Just get on the bike.”

[savorysatori]

DEJA VU. / SATORI TENDŌ! — dé·jà vu.

Deja Vu. /ˌdāZHä ˈvo͞o / a feeling of having already experienced the present situation.

synopsis. — you were both broken up. done with each other for the rest of your life, but, that one phone call always awoke something in you. bringing you back to where you used to be.

// warnings. smoking, car sex, tiny bit of angst. fem!reader, ex-lovers. possessiveness, toxic!tendō, face-sitting, daddy kink. + overstimulation, manipulation, non-con at first.

leader’s notes. my second attempt at writing angst and I hope I don’t butcher it, anyways, writing this hurt bad <33 but it’s also so hot because of toxic tendō. hehe! 💗

“You always babble on about us .. saying we can’t be together, and yet, you always pick up on my calls. You’re useless without me, dove.”

4:55 AM. — It was a soft breeze tonight, the birds were silent and the sun was slowly rising to uplift the night sky. It was a quiet night. Nothing to disturb your neighbors of their slumber, deep sleep with dreams of all kinds of things swishing between them and others. 

But, you, oh you. You were up, wide awake, awaiting that same message you get from him every single day. It had become a schedule to stay up this late, hoping the three bubbles would pop up beside his name. You yearned to see him again. And it was awful. An awful, awful thing. You fell deeper into his hole of games and tricks he played on you, unable to climb out from it. Fell deep into the love he provided you. But he couldn't love you back. That was the worst part of it, and the reason you could never tell anybody. You wanted to leave, and you did. You were the one who chose to break up, yet the one who kept going back and forth. This was the cycle of a pathetic relationship, and you knew it. You felt your cell phone vibrate in your hand. You felt a mixture of dread and excitement. Dread, because you knew who was texting.

“Come outside. I’m here.”

The message showed up. From there, you knew it was him. His words were short. Uneventful, but short. You opened your front door, walking out to the middle of the meadow behind your house, to feel the crisp air on your famished skin. The moon was high in the sky, and its light illuminated your surroundings. There was nobody else around, giving you a sense of isolation from any other living being. Tendō leaned against his sleek car, exactly where your visions had led you to expect him to be. His legs were crossed and his shoulders slumped as if he was trying to disappear into the dark color of the car. You couldn't make out much else about him, as he was keeping himself cloaked in shadow.

"Tendō," you uttered, walking up to him.

He slowly lifted his head, peeking out from the cloak of car. His eyes were lifeless. Empty. There was no emotion in those deep vermillions. They were cold. Hard. Like the metal of the car they were resting on.

"So, you did come,” he said, his voice monotone and emotionless, his mouth however was pulled up into a small smirk. He pushed himself up from the car, standing at its height. He brushed some dirt off his slacks, and pulled the car door open, climbing inside. You followed his example, climbing into the passenger seat.

Tendō’s car was spotless. Not a speck of dirt was anywhere to be found on the car's interior. The seats were equally as clean, with not a single stain or tear in sight. It was obvious that he took great care in keeping his car in pristine condition. It made all the memories flood back easily into your brain, having you remember exactly everything that happened in here. As you sat in it, the engine still idling, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulling one out and putting it in his mouth. He lit it with his flickery lighter, taking a deep breath in and releasing it through his nose.

“I thought you quit,” you repeated the same words from before, hoping he took them in. He didn't answer. Instead, he focused on the cigarette in his mouth as he drew it out. Pushed a button to raise the window, allowing the smoke to escape into the frigid night air.

‘Why wasn’t he answering you?’

The clock in your head ticked and tocked. Back and forth with you getting irritated with by the lack of response you are getting.

He slowly exhaled, the smoke leaving his lips in a thin stream.

"Quit your bickering, would ya’? "

The two of you sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Smoke filled the car's interior, clouds swirling around each other as they rose into the air. The smell of tobacco vanished when he crushed the cig in his palm, flicking the now burnt remains out the window. Once the window rolled up, you could see the uneasiness settle into your stomach.

“Ten- we gotta.. end this, tonight. Last time.”

You were sure about it. Hundred percent, sure. Even if the need of your body wasn’t. You could feel it. His words were vague, non-committal at best, but his eyes, that's what he was getting at. His dead eyes told you all you need to know. Tendō grabbed your hand, and before you could even think about it, your hand went near your mouth, coercing you onto his lap with a brutal grip.

His other arm wrapped around your waist, holding you in place. Your legs moved to straddle him, your knees on either side of his thighs. His hand left your mouth, finding its way onto your throat. You gulped in a breath, instantly feeling the pain of his fingers trapping your flesh. His face, so close to yours.

“You always babble on about us .. saying we can’t be together, and yet, you always pick up on my calls. You’re useless without me, dove.”

And he was right, so right. All of it. All of his games, tactics, his plans. You left him, yet you kept coming back. Why?

His eyes burned with a bright red, like two hot cinders. Tempting you to utter a word from your quivering lips, daring you to make a peep. And just like that, his found yours, smothering your lips. Soft at first, but soon they were hungry. They were everywhere, and you welcomed each one. Tongue pushed into your mouth; you tasted the blood from your bitten lip. The smoky flavor of his mouth was gone, replaced by the metal-like bitterness of his cold breath. You were weak. Powerless against him.

Your knees bent, your legs becoming wobbly, and you gave in. What else could you do? You couldn’t resist to his whims. His cold fingers rested against your burning cheek, his other hand grabbed at the side of your face, fingers digging into your jaw.

"You're mine." He breathed, his lips barely moving.

Dazed and confused, you didn't utter a single sound. His hand ran down your cheek, and he gave a light squeeze, holding you in place for his next move. His cold lips pressed against your cheek, moving slowly to your ear. "Say it."

"I'm yours!” The words escaped your lips, as if someone had pressed them in. They felt unnatural, wrong. It was like you was forcing yourself to say them. He let out a low chuckle, his hot breath causing you to shiver, no, to tremble. "Good girl."

The hand that was on your face moved down, and he grabbed at the front of your shirt. The feeling of his hand against your skin sent chills down your spine. You could feel him smile against your skin, his lips splayed on your chest. It all came too fast. One moment he was whispering dreadful words, the next he had the leather seat laid back, the remaining clothes thrown away with your legs fastened around each side of his head, cunt mere inches away from his hungry mouth. He had your wrists pushed against your head, and the leather seat belt were tied to your arms, leaving you unable to move them. Tied down, forced to watch, no matter how hard you tried to look away... he filled your glistening pussy with his cold tongue.

It was brutal. it was exquisite.

Moans came out of your lips with every thrust, and you couldn't help but push against his mouth. You wanted more. So much more. You could feel the warmth of his mouth, hear the slurping and slopping sounds as his tongue moved in and out, spreading the lips of your pussy to suckle. The harder you went, the wetter he made you, flicking at your clit. His stubble raked against your inner thighs as his mouth moved up to your aching sex. You rocked into his face, faster with a swirl from your hips. You could almost feel the heat of his breath against your clit as you loosed a torrent of dirty words, his name passed your lips in a long tone.

“Daddy! hah, ye- yes! ‘s good,”

He didn't need telling twice. Grabbing your hips, he steadied your gyrating body as he buried his head in your depths. He pushed your legs up, spreading you wide open. His tongue swept in and out, faster and faster. You could feel the air swirling around your clit as his nose pushed against your folds, sucking your sore bud into his mouth and biting down. You came hard, shuddering as your muscles tightened and unknotted themselves, unable to do anything else as wave after wave hit you.

Tendō’s tongue slid up from your sensitive bud, slipping back into his mouth with the filth of your juices splayed on it. He did exactly what he always did, make you dazed over him. Crawling back to him and his dick with need.

“Look at you. A fucking whore, whinin’ and squealing, you can’t go a fucking day without me — can you?” he urged you on with his harsh words, bringing you back from the aftershock.

You were addicted to him.

“No. I — I can’t, I love you too much,” a sniffle came from you, eyes settling to close. “But, please .. fuck me, daddy.”

A pleased look spread onto his face. He won. “You’re finally learning, dove. Now you know you can’t live without me, I’m too fuckin’ good.” you were swished from on top of his face, your legs being forced up, your knees drawn back as his fingers dug into your thighs. Gently, he guided his dick to you. His hands wrapped around your legs as he slowly started to push into you, rocking his hips as he found your warm, wet hole.

“Daddy! — ah, fuuck.” you hissed as he entered you, wincing as he twisted his hips, grinding the last inches of his cock into you. Cool air brushed against your raw neck and the inside of your thighs as his warm body pushed against you. With every thrust, his dick ground against your clit, sending jolts of delight through your body. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as your fingers bit into his flesh. You didn't want it to end. This pure, unadulterated pleasure. He leaned forward, supporting his weight on his forearms as he panted.

You were tight. So fuckin’ tight, Tendō could barely move.

He thrust into you, hard. His pelvis slapped your ass as you took him in. You moaned into his mouth as his dick rubbed that sweet spot inside you, your body felt as if it was in a craze of desire. He steadied his breathing as he started to thrust harder, keeping an intent of driving you cock drunk. Tendō wrapped his hand around your throat, as his other hand raised your legs and wrapped them around his waist. His lips were messily pressed against your cheek as he kissed you with deep, raw animalistic lust. You bit your tongue to prevent yourself from making any noise, but your body betrayed you as a moan still slipped past your lips.

“I know you missed this from the way you look, I know you miss me. Let me hear you mutter it, baby.” he panted as your bodies' rhythm began to sync up.

Your nostrils were filled with his scent, your eyes were covered by your hair, but you could still see as he fucked you with kind-buttons, and the pain grew. “I’ve missed it!” And you did as you were told, jumping onto his cock and draining it dry with your whines. “I’ve missed you, s’so much, lo- love you too.”

“Knew it. I fucking knew it already, your mine.”

He was unrelenting as his cock mushed against your womb, his forehead pressed against yours. His fingers dug into your sweat-soaked back as he huffed, his breath coming out in heavy pants. You could feel the liquid filling your insides as his warm cum plugged you. His body kept on thrusting as he emptied himself into you. Your vision grew dark as the world turned all of its colors. You felt light-headed, but you didn't want it to end. You couldn’t have it end.

Tendō’s eyes ranked of desire and crave, he had you where he always wanted. Plugged you to be his, lure you back in with his lustful advances, have you stay up till the crack of dawn — waiting for that phone call from him. Make you whine just for the simplest touch from him. He drove you mad. That devilish grin on his face as he had you pinned down, that was all it took for you to fall into temptation's arms again. You were the king and he was the pawn, catching you in checkmate.

“You also still .. love me, right?”

A deep, guttural laugh escaped from him. One that would make someone wince, embarrassed of the question they asked. You wished you could take it back, wish you could go back in time and not say a peep. Wish you could disappear from reality. Just this once.

“Yes. Of course I do, my little devil. But that’s in another lifetime, one where I’m your actual boyfriend.”

You’ve felt this moment before. Tasted those same words leaving your lips, savored them to the hilt. This exact feeling felt familiar like you’ve experienced it before. You were trapped in a haze of deja vu, going around in circles and repeating the same actions from before. Just like now, what you asked him. You asked him before.

“Checkmate.”

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Comfy, my darling, I come requesting the delight that is Jaskier as Persephone! Please and thank you 🐺🌼

HAPPY FUCKIN BIRTHDAY BABE!!!!

Ily and i’m very glad we’re interweb friends!!!

Pomegranate Seeds

I took some heavy creative liberties here and twisted the myth a little bit for the sake of the vibes. Geralt is Hades, Jask is Persephone and that’s the only character crossover bc I wanna give them all my attention. There will be more too 🥰

Warnings: ...none? jask runs away? its greek but like we got rid of the shitty bits.

______________

Geralt seethed as he stalked up the winding path through the gardens of Mt. Olympus. He liked the underworld. It was his home, his realm, and more importantly, his brothers never ventured there without warning. He grumbled about the ‘fucking humans being needy and bothering him’ as he cut through an orchard.

As he neared the largest tree, he slowed his walk, feeling his irritation melt away little by little as he heard an entrancing voice floating from its upper branches. The song was sorrowful and filled with a simmering resentment Geralt had never heard anywhere but his own thoughts. He came to stop under the tree and leaned against its trunk, listening in rapture. 

When the voice went quiet, he spoke without thinking, “That was beautiful.”

There was a yelp and a couple cracking branches before a young god dropped almost gracefully to the ground, “It’s rude to eavesdrop.”

“Is it?” Geralt chuckled, still leaning against the tree and watching the god closely as he righted himself and brushed his soft brown hair out of his eyes, “I live with the dead. They don’t talk much.” 

“Oh?” there was a flirtatious glint to the younger god’s blue eyes before he finally put two and two together, “Oh! Oh no, you’re- shit- My apolog-”

“No need,” Geralt interrupted, “I intruded on your singing,” he hummed with a sly smile as he brushed past the confused god to amble along his path to the wretched meeting he was due at. 

“I- well, yes you did! Why?” the god seemed to get his wits about him as he jogged to catch up. 

Geralt shrugged, slowing his walk, “I… appreciate the lyrics.”

“I’m Jaskier. By the way,” the singer bounced along in front of Geralt, walking backwards as he chattered, “You appreciate my mourning the loss of my autonomy? That I am forever to be singing in a garden to make things grow just because of my mother?” 

“Demeter’s Jaskier?” Geralt frowned, knowing very well how Demeter liked to control her human pets. He couldn’t imagine how… well yes. He could imagine what kind of a controlling mother she would be. Gea had been no picnic after all. 

Jaskier wrinkled his nose and nodded. 

“You don’t want to sing?”

Jaskier spun on his heel and fell into step next to Geralt, “I love to sing. But I want to do it for me. Making it a duty sullies the… the…” he trailed off for a bit, staring at the blossoms and fruits in the trees with his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth. Geralt found it unreasonably endearing and waited patiently for him to find the word.

“When I sing for myself it is cleansing. When I do it for others it feels disingenuous and wrong.” Jaskier decided. Clearly, he had been spending time with the muses. 

Geralt nodded, “You want more than what you’ve been offered here.”

“Yes!”

They had, to Geralt’s dismay, come to the edge of the orchard.

Geralt stopped and faced Jaskier, a slight upturn in his lips, “Maybe you should find what pleases you.”

Jaskier smiled like the glittering diamonds embedded in the walls of Geralt’s palace, nodding fervently as Geralt turned to go. Just before he was out of reach he heard the singer whisper, “I think I just did…” 

_

Geralt paid even less attention to the discussion than usual, his mind wandering back to Jaskier. He decided, as he glared at his brother boasting of his bastard child and that bull thing he’d made, that he would find Jaskier and… and what? He wanted to whisk him away to his realm and spoil him with fine jewels and the most delicate of silks. He wanted to hear that voice and see that brilliant smile everywhere he went. 

But that was selfish.

How could someone so full of life and ambition ever be happy in the underworld? He couldn’t possibly expect Jaskier to leave the color and warmth of the surface world behind for a shadowy cave system that barely qualified as Geralt’s palace. There would only be Geralt and the Furies for an audience, for the most part, and the only trees in his courtyards were haggard at best. No child of the harvest would flourish there. 

He left the way he’d come, hoping to find Jaskier in the orchard again, but he was long gone by the time all the other gods had aired their ‘concerns’. 

Weeks passed and Geralt found himself even more withdrawn than usual. 

His time was spent glaring down at his pathetic little courtyard with the one tree still bearing fruit. He had always been resentful to have been stuck below ground, where the humans feared him and the other gods judged him for having made a home. Bitching and moaning wouldn’t make anything better, so he played the hand he was dealt and enjoyed his solitude. But now? Now he was simply bubbling with rage. Had he been made god of the sea this wouldn’t be a problem. He would pick a comfortably private but not secluded inlet, build his lovely little singer a castle, and spend all their free days wandering the beach.

Not that he’d laid awake at night thinking about it. 

He dealt with his duties with a biting tongue and vicious sneer as he pondered what to do with himself. 

Nothing seemed to satisfy.

Finally, he made a decision. He would pay Jaskier a visit and ask to hear the song one last time. Just once before he promised to leave the lively singer alone. 

When he arrived at the gates to Mt. Olympus, he expected to have to search for Jaskeir or at least search out his voice.  

Jaskier, however, was furiously charging down the path, his angry scowl turning into a feral grin when he recognized Geralt, “Oh! Hello! This is perfect! I was just coming to find you!” 

Geralt blinked, “Find me? Where would I be but home?” 

“Here. Apparently,” Jaskeir pointed out, with raised eyebrows.

“I’m here to find you,” Geralt smiled, feeling something akin to hope soothing the loneliness that had nested in his chest. 

Jaskier positively beamed, “I have chosen to find what pleases me. And now that I’ve found you, I would be eternally happy if you absconded with me to your realm.” 

If he were nervous or hesitant in the slightest, Geralt couldn’t see it even as he looked for any hint in his features. 

“You want to come with me to the underworld?” Geralt frowned, not believing his ears.

“Sounds more fun when you say it my way,” Jaskier answered, rubbing at the back of his neck, that little bit of embarrassment and worry finally showing through his facade, “but yes. That is exactly what I want.”

“I have no gardens.”

“All the better.” 

“I would be your only audience.”

“You’re the only audience I’ve cared about since I met you,” Jaskier’s tone became defiant as he puffed up his chest just enough for Geralt to think he did it unintentionally.

Geralt let himself melt a little bit more with his every reply, “The sun doesn’t warm your face in my home.”

“Are your eyes not a brilliant golden warmth enough?”

Geralt blushed for the first time in centuries, “If it is truly what you want…”

Jaskier hesitantly stepped closer, staring Geralt right in the eye, “I want you.”

[jockpoetry]

Dean’s Canon Divergent 42nd Birthday. 

(on ao3)

The bunker was still, Sam and Eileen were...somewhere, and currently they didn’t have any visitors. No guests, no wayward hunters, or any friends stopping by to catch their breath. Not even family. It was, for once, just Dean, his broken leg, and a case of beer that was mostly empties now. 

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me,” the words weren’t slurred, even though he felt the weight and warmth of alcohol resting heavy on his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d acknowledged his own birthday, but in the solitude of the bunker it felt right to at least say the words aloud.

The hovered above him as he contemplated beer four - five, maybe - and wondered if it was time to hit the harder stuff. An uncomfortable lump had begun to form somewhere above his heart. He pushed out of the chair, half-drunk off the now warm beers Dean heaved himself upward and swayed on his feet for a beat. The main room of the bunk swum before his eyes before he shut them, steadying himself.

He felt stale, sore, and exhausted. Which meant that it was definitely time to switch to something harder. The path to his room was familiar and before he knew it tired hands pulled drawers open until the glass of an unfinished bottle of bourbon he’d opened the other night was welcome against his palm. 

Not bothering to find a glass he took the bottle to his bed, the cap flicked off to the side with a quiet clatter. The cool of the liquor was crystalline after a haze of lukewarm beers. One hand holding the bottle steady he adjusted his pillow behind him and settled down, eyes staring unseeingly straight ahead.

This was kind of pathetic, even for him, wasn’t it? Getting drunk, alone, on your birthday. Another small pull of the bourbon quieted those thoughts, even if it didn’t fully dull the ache of too many questions he never let himself ponder. The bunker was too quiet, though, and Dean wasn’t sure even if he put music on and cranked it as loud as it could go it would drum out the thunder in his head.

How old was he? 

Did he count the years in hell, or not? Does he count the one in purgatory? How about the hundred days he lived and died - were those a part of this life? He ran his free, rough hewn, hand - was this even his original hand - over his face. His breath in soft tatters. Birthdays in the past had been busy, world’s were ending, people were dying, but now here he was. Still. Everything was...okay. It was, there was no crisis at hand. Just busywork, clean up jobs, every day tasks that called people away.

Hell he wasn’t even sure if Sam and Eileen were even on a hunt, maybe they’d just taken a weekend away to breathe. It had to be nice, having someone to breathe with. Having a life with someone.

All Dean had was a life unworthy of any fanfare. Unworthy of a text from Jack or Sam or....

The lump was back this time decidedly higher, threatened to cut off his air and made the backs of his eyes burn.

More bourbon, definitely...definitely more bourbon.

But even the bright burn of warming liquor didn’t stop the way the room was beginning to melt. Or the warm trails that had begun to fall down his face. Was it even his face? He’d only been born to be a fucking meatsuit for an angel. Fucking angels, fucking destiny and fate and - 

The sob that ripped out of him breaks the silence, and for a long time there is only unsteady, heaving, gasping breaths. They fill up the room, and go on for long enough that the bourbon is on his bedside table and both hands are holding his face. It is his, no matter who’s inhabited it, how many times it has died, this is his. He is his. 

He only belongs to himself.

He’s always belonged to himself, an island of one. Everyone always leaves, Sam included. Hell Sam’s got a life of his own, and is happy. He’s got the hunter network running as nicely as Baby’s engine. And Dean? 

Dean’s got a splotchy face long after his tears slow to a stop. He’s in the midst of taking a shuddering, wet breath, when off in the distance there’s the sound of a door shutting. 

Every muscle in his body tenses, his hand half reached under his pillow for the gun stashed there, before he can rationalize to his foggy brain it’s just some hunter, probably. He listens, ears straining, as distantly familiar footsteps draw nearer. The tears have dried on his face, the skin stiff and uncomfortable, but he barely dares to breathe let alone move.

A shadow pauses before his door, as it stealing itself, before the sound of a doorknob and 

“Oh,” Cas’ face slowly comes into focus. 

Cas’ face...Dean stands too quickly and mostly falls off of his bed. He catches himself with one arm, staring wide-eyed as Cas comes closer. As Cas’ warm, familiar, hands rest on his shoulder. As Cas’ impossibly blue eyes look over his face with concern. “Dean,” and that’s definitely Cas’ voice. Deep and rough like tires over gravel and Dean can feel the threat of tears returning as he shakes his head.

Because it can’t be Cas. 

“You’re dead,” the words take far too much effort to form. The not-Cas-Cas’ face crumples, softens, looks at him in that makes the tears come out harder. “Christ I need to stop drinking,” he pulls shaking hands to press into his eyes, willing whatever drunken vision away. But the warm weight of a second hand comes to cup his face, and the sound of fabric crinkling and knees resting on concrete are enough to tell him the not-Cas-Cas isn’t going away anywhere soon.

The soft motion of a thumb across his cheek is enough to ease some of the tension away, and maybe he can just pretend. No one else is around, he can be allowed this? A drunken dream, too good to be true, and lets his head rest heavier on the palm there. His hands falling from his eyes to rest between his legs. 

“You could’ve had me,” the words are so quiet, “I wish you would’ve.” How many times has he admitted these words in his dreams? In prayers that went unanswered? “Too fucking chicken shit to ever do anything, too afraid I’d fuck it up,” the words spill out of him faster and faster. “One good thing, the one good thing this life gave to me was you, but I know me, I fuck everything up. I don’t know how to keep people, only how to push ‘em away and I couldn’t....”

Couldn’t lose Cas like that, in a permanent way, but he did anyways. In the end silence wasn’t salvation, it was just as damning as any words could’ve been. 

“Dean,” and that’s enough to draw his eyes back open. And there’s Cas, as he should be, weary, wary, with that softest trace of hope. “I-I knew,” but the words halt and he can see the way the muscles in this vision of Cas clench. The way blue eyes shift around for a moment, searching for the right words to say. In his dream Cas would surge forward and cover him in kisses. Sloppy and sappy and feeling like everything he’d wanted.

This Cas seems uncertain, “I could feel the way you felt, but you’re so-so complex. I didn’t wish to assume, didn’t want to...hope.” Each words feels like it’s been pulled, painfully, from some deep place. “Dean, please,” and the hand on his cheek tilting his face upwards. “Look at me,” blue eyes pleading as much as the words.

Taking in a steadying breath Dean does, and all he sees is Cas. The open longing and desperation on his face. “Jack,” the words drift over Dean like warm waves, “brought me back from the empty. I wasn’t right, but your prayers...they helped. Jack, Mary, Charlie even they helped me. I would have come back sooner, but -”

Whatever further words Cas might’ve said were muffled as Dean surged forward, arms wrapping around the familiar expanse of the angels back. Hands soothed down his back, a face pressing into his hair, and surely there are words being spoken but Dean can’t hear them. All he can hear is the thud of two pulses, their bodies melded together as close as they can be. A warmth, completely unrelated to the alcohol, surges through his body. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Cas’ voice finally breaks through, “I used my grace to sober you. I wanted you to see this wasn’t,” but again words are interrupted. This time by a suddenly, blisteringly, sober Dean leaning and pressing his lips against Cas’ stupid, eternally, chapped ones.

The sag of relief brings Cas somehow closer to him, and they sit there, Cas knelt between Dean’s knees, kissing until they’re out of breath. Until Cas leans back to press his forehead against Dean’s, both of their breathing uneven and eyes shut. Dean lets his hands slowly drag down from shoulder blade to hips and shifts to rest his head upon one of Cas’ shoulders.

The hand that begins to comb through his hair, soothing away any doubt, any fear. “They kept telling me I could go back when I was ready,” the words break the silence, but Dean doesn’t move and neither does Cas. The only motion is the hand through his hair, “and I never knew.... I didn’t know how to tell when I was ready, but then I remembered.” The hand in his hair pulls slightly, just enough to shift Dean back so Cas can look him full in his face again. 

“January 24th, 1979,” the smile on Cas’ face is sun-bright and warms Dean right to his core. “I was given a gift I didn’t fully understand that day, and I figured it would only be fair if...if I returned the gesture.” Cas’ lips are warm against his forehead, lingering for a beat too long before pulling away again. “Happy birthday, Dean, I hope this is the first of many you’ll let me celebrate with you.”

Dean answers the only way he can, by pressing another kiss against Cas’ lips, and pulling him closer.

[y0itsbri]

kinktober day 3 -- lingerie @gallavichthings

the devil in disguise

ian has a deep appreciation for mickey's halloween costume.

beta read by @mishervellous ❤️

words: 1.3k

"when you said you wanted to do a couples costume, i thought you meant with me!" ian rifled through his closet, trying to put together a last minute costume while mickey changed in the bathroom into his costume so he could coordinate with fucking tami. ian could have been an angel, but no, that simply wouldn't do.

to be fair, ian should have seen this coming after lip decided to put in an ungodly amount of extra hours at the shop. tamietti's went hard for halloween, and this year was not going to be an exception. he cursed lip for inadvertently stealing his husband away from him for the night.

this was impossible. ian banged his head against the wall.

"you die out there, firecrotch?" mickey called, voice strained.

ian was thoroughly confused with whatever elaborate feat was going on behind the closed door.

"no," he called, hopeless. he tried again, "you need any help in there?" ian reached for the knob only to find it locked. motherfucker.

"aye no peeking!"

"are you almost done? i need your help," ian sat back on their bed, sinking into their mattress and tapping his fingertips along this thigh.

he couldn't decipher all of mickey's mutterings through the wooden barrier, but the 'jesus fucking christ fucking gallagher' was unmissable.

ian grinned devilishly. he was always in the mood for a grumpy mick.

mickey unlocked the door with a click and stepped out in a red blur, discarding his old clothes on the floor in his corner of their room as if ian's world wasn't currently being absolutely rocked merely three feet away.

it took mickey a moment to realize that his normally chatty husband had yet to say a word. shit. maybe ian didn't like this kind of thing.

he bit the bullet and faced ian head on, only to meet a love-shook caricature of his husband -- wide eyes, blushing cheeks, and mouth agape, damn near salivating.

oh.

mickey smirked and flexed his arms not so subtly, "what d'ya think?"

ian unfroze from his trance, caught. he groaned and flopped back onto the bed, lifting his head and peeking at mickey between his fingers, "you're going to fucking kill me."

because there mickey was. clad in a fucking red, silk, corset cut just for his body. the red ribbons crossing in the front, carving his figure in all the right angles.

after a moment of deep appreciation and an unexpected awakening, ian allowed his eyes to scan the rest of mickey, which wasn't bearing any better for his blood pressure.

sheer, fingerless red gloves were stretched across mickey's hands, faded knuckle tattoos still visible. the glint of his ring seemed more prominent all of a sudden.

ian's eyes made their way up his arm, chest, neck. a sequined devil horn nestled into his dark hair and reflecting the low light of their bedroom lamp, giving mickey a literal red aura.

enjoying the show, mickey spun around, biting his lip. ian continued to ogle.

red fishnet stockings covered mickey's muscled thighs under almost-too-short-not-short-enough leather shorts embroidered with orange flames. pointed wings attached with some elaborate belting situation between his shoulder blades, and an arrow tail slinking around his hips.

"i think this is hell," ian closed his eyes, willing the blood to go back to his brain by the sheer power of force.

mickey chuckled darkly. "that so? ian gallagher on the naughty list?"

ian cracked an eye open, "what are you, fuckin' santa claus now?"

mickey smacked ian's stomach as he sat on the bed next to his idiot of a partner, "fuck off, ho."

"don't you mean ho ho ho?" ian couldn't resist.

"and we're done," mickey made to stand up but ian caught him by the arm, sliding his hand down until he reached the hem of the glove, inching his own fingertips underneath and sliding against his skin. his voice went deeper in the way that he knew made mickey melt.

"lemme make a deal with the devil?"

he tugged and pulled mickey onto his lap so that he was straddling him, knees digging into the soft mattress.

"what does the mere mortal have in mind?" mickey teased, voice light but eyes dark.

"kiss me and i won't tear your costume to shreds," ian ran his hand up mickey's back, catching on the wings clumsily before tracing his silk clad skin back down to his thighs. "you're looking hot as hell." the statement carried heat behind it.

mickey's breathing picked up as he considered the weight of his options.

ian grinned, trapped under mickey's control, but waiting patiently for the signal he knew he would be allowed.

a breath. two. three.

"c'mere," mickey leaned.

ian crashed his lips against mickey's own, his mouth a fire hot cinnamon. ian groaned. did mickey really have a mint for this? motherfucker thought of everything.

ian traced his hands over the mickey's chest as they kissed, following the lines of silky ribbon crossing back and forth. back and forth. lower. lower. lower.

the textures of silk and leather and skin mixing together under his hands, grasping at whatever he could reach.

mickey's weight pinned him to the mattress, helpless.

he felt fingers caressing his hair as his mouth felt warmer as they melted into each other.

what felt like an eternity in damnation later, mickey broke them apart. they took a moment to assess their equally disheveled appearances while fighting to catch their breath behind a laugh.

ian made a grab to pull mickey back in, certain he would comply, but mickey was quicker.

he rolled off with a grunt, tossing a half empty water bottle at ian's still body and nudging his leg when he didn't respond.

"you ready to go?"

"go where?" ian picked up the water bottle and idly traced its shape with his fingers.

a flick. "the party? tamietti's? your sister-in-law? ring any bells?"

ian sighed as he nestled further into their bed, "i still don't have a costume."

mickey waltzed towards their dresser, a slight unbalance in his step, and flung an old flannel on the bed.

"lumberjack. you've already got the scruff, thank you very much." he added quiety, grinning lopsidedly to himself. he was genuinely so proud he had convinced ian to abandon the clean cut army man look and to not shave for a few days to see what would happen and dear god was he enjoying the consequences.

ian finally sat up and chugged the rest of water bottle in one go before setting on their nightstand. it took a moment for mickey's words to register, but when they did -- yeah.

"you're a genius."

ian leaned up to grab mickey again, but he side stepped ian's attempts and straightened his outfit. "no sir, you gotta get changed. we need to leave like... ten minutes ago. tami's gonna have my ass if we're any later."

"tami better not go anywhere near that ass," ian grumbled, but complying with mickey's requests.

"don't worry, logger, you're the only wood for me."

"oh mickey, now that was bad."

mickey grinned as he shimmied in his satin outfit, smoothing over the wrinkles that ian had put there mere minutes before.

ian could easily stare at this image of mickey all night. as he was buttoning up his flannel, he made a mental note to buy mickey some more red.

"i think red is your color, mick." ian let slip, shoving his wallet in his pocket.

"yeah?" mickey grinned, "you too, stud," he ruffled ian's hair and pushed him out the door.