#he deserves my bring me the horizon shirt

[blotb0x]

jonny in my clothes. i love this outfit. this is my teenage boy outfit

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— SEMPITERNAL

SUMMARY : part II of gimme half. vanilla is a basic flavour. but sometimes it’s just the right thing for mornings like this.  

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), p in v, smut, unprotected sex, fluff

WORD COUNT : 2.2k

A/N : bring me the horizon song title. ah, the second day of January, getting closer to Dean’s bday, it will be the best day of my life or the worst. I have ocd (so does my mom) so idk what’s normal lmao Xxxx

It must have all been a dream. 

She would never go to her neighbour’s house. Not when they were supposed to hate each other. Not when it was freezing cold. Not at night. Not close to Christmas…

He was very pretty though, in her dreams. Still, so pretty. Irresistible. Hot. Frustrating. Adorable. A million lovely things. It felt very real. So real. 

His lips. All pink, warm, soft, and sweet. His hands. Rough, warm, calloused, and skilful. His skin. Freckled, covered in scars, tattooed, hot. God… she wanted that in reality, too. To feel it against every inch of her skin once more. She especially wanted what’s between his legs. 

Were her sheets always this cold? This thin and… not downy at all? 

If she could return to her dream. That would be nice. Making friends with her enemy, Dean… Well, making love is more what it was. Very rough, desperate, hot love. 

She grumbled sleepily, lifting the sheet up her body. Trying to get her arms warm, to stop the cold from getting through the openings. Something stopped her, something hard behind her, and she didn’t want to wake up. 

And wait… why was the window in the opposite direction? 

She rubbed her bleary eyes and looked around the unfamiliar room, the beige and white bed sheets that were definitely not hers. The pictures and posters on the walls were unfamiliar…

She sat up on the bed slowly and twisted her body cautiously to peek at whoever was sleeping beside her. 

Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped slightly. 

Dean. 

She shut her mouth and smiled, trying not to laugh at the events that occurred the night before. They were definitely not a dream. For her bravery, she deserved a treat. Maybe six.

He really did look pretty. 

Those muscular arms holding his pillow, skin freckled and lightly tanned. The sheets clung tightly to his hips, that tiny, narrow waist of his. So jealous. And… oh, God, he wasn’t wearing anything. 

His lips were parted slightly, pink and swollen from sleep, maybe from all the kissing they were doing the previous night. He had the prettiest lashes, so long, thick, curled naturally. What even was he? Those gorgeous freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. His messy hair looked so soft. 

Peaceful. Relaxed. 

The sunlight made him look even more divine. Honey and gold, a verdant forest, a soft flower in a meadow. Springtime in the winter. That was Dean.

She looked around his room, she was completely naked. Some warm clothes and fluffy socks to keep the cold at bay would be nice. 

She opened his drawer to look for some socks, sliding the top drawer out. She blinked at the contents inside. A vibrating cock ring stood out from the other things inside, in rose pink. She chuckled. There were a few candy wrappers, jolly ranchers, unused condoms in the front, a steel gun over books. Cute. There were old movie tickets, a Bob Seger cassette tape, Crime and Punishment, Persuasion, The Lord of the Rings, and 11/22/63. He’s so hot.

She closed it quietly and opened the second one. One half had perfectly folded, plain black t-shirts and the other half had only white t-shirts. She pulled out a black shirt from the top and put it on carefully. She took a deep breath of the scent of the softener that remained and sighed. Yum.

She opened the third and final one. Finally socks. They were neatly organised, folded, tightly fitting in rows and columns. Blue penguin socks caught her attention, but so did the pink ones with otters, the purple ones with avocados, and the green ones with giraffes. Could he get any more endearing?

She picked the boring black ones at the back. What if the fun socks were special to him? 

She got out of his bed, walking quietly across his very cute bedroom, and into the bathroom. His very clean bathroom. 

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Thank God for the shower she took with Dean last night. No raccoon face from her eyeliner this morning. But she was definitely sore. Good sore. 

He’s so… hospitable. And a billion other things, too many lovely things to list. She laughed quietly to herself, turning the water on in the sink to wash her face. 

Maybe she shouldn’t get too ahead of herself with these thoughts and feelings. Last night was fast, blurry, heated, and emotional. Things could change, she knew that better than anyone. Morning clarity. After sex clarity? Who knows.  

It would be impossible not to have marks over her body after the night they had. She turned the water off, gently shook her hands in the sink, and used the shirt to pat her face dry. Curiously, she kept the shirt up, and stared down at her body. 

There were bruises on her hips the shape of his fingers. And Reddish-purplish marks on her breasts, sternum, and stomach, even higher up on her collarbone. There were bite marks on her shoulders that stung to touch-

“Sorry about those,” Dean’s raspy morning voice made her jump. She dropped the shirt and crossed her arms over her chest, smiling timidly at Dean. She didn’t know why. After the hot night they had together, being seen naked the next morning should be the last thing to make her this flustered. 

“I’m not getting in the way of your secret escape, am I?” He changed the subject, teasingly smirking at her. He pushed himself off the doorframe. Unfortunately, he was wearing a soft grey robe tied loosely around his waist, some grey slippers, and his hair was a cute-slash-sexy mess. 

“No…” she replied softly, running her fingers through her somewhat messy hair. It still felt wet… maybe she should have stopped Dean from throwing her into his bed after their shower, but he seemed more than thrilled to bury his face between her legs. God, that stubble on his jaw felt amazing between her sensitive thighs. 

“Good,” he mumbled tiredly, smiling down at her. 

He was irresistible. She could already feel heat forming between her legs, wetness seeping from her entrance, and her heart pound quickly in the casket of bones the closer he got. 

Maybe it was those pretty green eyes of his, the burning fire in his gaze simmering deep within the golden specks. He checked her out from head to toe slowly, shamelessly, devouringly. Why would he have any shame after the night they had?

Her body reacted to him embarrassingly fast. Like two atoms, she ached to be fused together with him. Being in his presence just felt right. It felt fiery, more now than last night, more than when he was asleep. When he was asleep, he was more than adorable, but now… She wanted him on her again. 

Her skin burned like acid rain had dripped down over her body, but it was just his hungry eyes. It was the memory of his mouth, his tongue, his lips, and his teeth. All marking her, making her his own.

Her lungs ached for slower, deeper breaths as he sucked the oxygen from the room with that deep, husky voice of his. He left her breathless, with those soft eyes and tender smile.

All he did was put toothpaste on the brush he gave her last night. He smiled when he gave it to her, his fingers brushed against hers, like jumpstarting the dead battery of a car. 

She tried to hide the sharp inhale when she took the toothbrush from him by biting her lip. He seemed to like her reaction, a smile tugged at his lips, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to and neither did she. 

She watched him do the same to his own toothbrush and slowly, wordlessly, he started to brush his teeth. 

“Cute cock ring,” she told him casually, and began brushing her own teeth. He almost spit out the toothpaste and saliva when he laughed, a very beautiful laugh that made her insides warm and melty like cheese in a burger, or butter on pancakes, or whipped cream on waffles. 

She was hungry. 

“You looked through my stuff,” he stated, a mouthful of toothpaste still in his mouth. He continued to brush his teeth, staring at her the whole time rather than looking into the mirror. His eyes were sparkling, and not just because of the cold winter sunlight. 

“I was cold,” she shrugged, then spit out what she had left before continuing to brush. He spit everything out at last, regarding her with a smirk. 

“Guess I shoulda been a better host.” Dean finished brushing his teeth and she did soon after as well, waiting for him to finish freshening up from the doorframe.

“You more than made up for it last night,” she grinned, catching the smirk on his face, the sudden dreaminess that washed over his green eyes. Her insides twisted excitedly and he finally looked at her with those soft verdurous eyes.

“Are you still cold?��� He teased when he finished, reaching for her waist and gently tugging her forward, and away from the doorway. She shook her head ‘no’ and smiled up at him. “Too bad,” he hummed, biting his lip. “You chose boring socks,” he pouted, then leaned down to kiss her. 

She smiled against his lips. The kiss somehow felt more… warm than last night, and… well, like the birth of a star. Warmth bloomed in her chest, like a flower kissed by sunlight in the morning. It was like being reborn, like breathing the cleanest air.

“I was trying to be considerate,” she mumbled when he pulled away from her lips. He tilted his head with a confused smile, and moved her backwards, leading her back to his bed.

“Considerate?” Dean slowly lifted the shirt, his fingertips teasing her warm skin as he slid it up her body. 

“Read my mind,” she whispered, throwing the clean shirt on his desk when it was around her wrists above her head. 

“I don’t read minds,” he grinned down at her, pecking her lips. She hummed softly, amused just because he made her smile, and untied his robe. He humoured her anyway, staring at her as she climbed onto the bed, her soft hands moving up his torso slowly exploring, memorising, worshipping. “You… are so cute,” he teased, leaning forward to kiss her again. 

She pressed her lips against his, moaning quietly against his mouth. She pushed the robe off his shoulders and he threw it over the small, sage-coloured sofa he had placed by the window that was opened to her house. 

“That’s not reading my mind.” She buried her fingers in his hair and began crawling backwards, her warm tongue tracing his plump lips. He cursed softly against her mouth, kissing her back with as much force, and climbed up the bed with her.

“I told you,” he panted, lowering his body over hers once her head fell onto the pillows, “I don't read minds.” She pulled Dean down, closer to her, arms circled around his neck, legs parted for his hips to fit perfectly in between.

“I think you see through me,” she whispered, lapping at the red mark positioned on his pulse, making him moan softly. She couldn’t believe she felt insecure about it at first, but now, it was hot that he could read her, that he could figure her out in seconds. For however long he's been hunting, she had no doubt he was much more clever than he led on. 

“You think wearing a pair of what might be my favourite socks will make me… sad?” He tried, barely moving away from her mouth. She snickered upon releasing how ridiculous it sounded out loud, she nodded anyway.

“I’d be upset,” she shrugged, sliding her hands down his back, his taut muscles shifting beneath her hands. 

“Exactly why I said you’re cute,” he told her softly, rocking his hips against hers. She shook her head in denial, dragging her lips back up to his. His cock slid through her soaked folds, teasingly nudging her entrance, tortuously rubbing her clit. “You hungry?” He asked, leaning on one arm placed by her head.

“Dirty intent with that question?” She teased, nibbling his bottom lip. He laughed deeply, pressing his cock into her, slowly pushing in. 

“Wanted to make ya breakfast,” he huffed, moaning with her when he pulled out gently and pushed back into her warmth. “So… breakfast?” His hand travelled freely down her sides, tenderly brushing against the bruises on her skin. 

“Only if you’ll make me breakfast often,” she played quietly. With a husky moan, he slid his hands back up her sides, thumbing her sensitive nipples. He dropped his forehead to her shoulder, smiling at her words, the tightening of her walls around him taking him to the brink of delectable release and delirious insanity.

“Only if you’re mine,” he rasped, taking her wrist to slide his hand into hers, pressing it into the pillow, and above her head. 

“Yes,” she whispered, squeezing his hand, slipping her other hand into his hair. He lifted his face to stare into her sincere gaze, brought his freehand between their bodies to rub circles on her clit. 

“To breakfast or being mine?” Dean inquired, rolling his hips swiftly into her. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist, keeping him close, and drawing his lips closer with her hand clutching the short hair behind his head.

“Yes,” she murmured, drawing a soft laugh from him as she pressed a deep kiss to his warm lips.

➥ summer’s stellar gaze

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis @mrlonelycat @taylortots-world @evznackles @ohnosy @juicyballsworld

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

dean’s 45th birthday celebration masterlist

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[bruisedboys]

aaaand for candy cane, how about the cold prompt from the first list with loml steve 🫶🫶 congrats again on 6k mal! u deserve every but and more ily

anna my angel thank u sm!! i love you lots mwah xx

prompt: sender places their jacket over receiver's shoulders.

steve harrington x fem!reader

“You look cold.”

You pull your gaze from the horizon, where the sun’s just dipped below the long stretch of ocean ahead of you. Steve’s standing in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest and one hand cupping the opposite elbow. He’s frowning at you.

“Oh, hi, Steve,” you say, smiling up at him. He’s super tall. And super handsome. “I’m not cold.”

You kind of are. But you don’t want him to worry about you. He’d probably make the kids pack up just so he can take you somewhere warm, and they’re having the time of their lives playing volleyball on the beach right now. You’ve never heard Max laugh so much, and Dustin hasn’t complained about sand in his shoes once. You don’t want to ruin the fun just because you forgot to bring a sweater.

Steve hums in a disbelieving sort of way. You’ve got no escape as he sits down next to you on the log your perched on, stretches his legs out next to yours, and holds out his hands.

“Give me your hands?” He says, palms facing up.

Reluctantly, you put your hands on top of his. His skin is shockingly warm against your cold hands.

“Woah,” Steve says, eyebrows shooting up into his hair. He frowns at you as his thumbs push into the backs of your hands. “What are you, a snowman? You’re cold as ice, honey.”

Honey? You sit there dumbfounded for a moment. Meanwhile, Steve is sandwiching your hands between both of his in an attempt to warm you up, you suppose. It’s working, though you’re pretty sure it’s got nothing to do with his body heat, and everything to do with that fact that you have a schoolgirl crush on him and he’s really, really close right now.

“I’m fine,” you finally manage, a bit strained. It’s hard to think when he’s holding your hands in his, let alone talk.

Steve just frowns at you, disbelieving. “You should’ve said something sooner, babe,” he says. “Here, do you want my jacket?”

“No, Steve, that’s—“

But he’s already releasing you to shed his jacket, sliding it off his arms with ease to reveal a tight polo underneath. The material hugs his biceps, stretches across his lean chest. You’re so busy staring at his arms you forget to protest as he carefully places his jacket over your shoulders.

You’re instantly engulfed in a bubble of warmth. His jacket is a light material but it’s soft on the inside and much, much warmer than your thin t-shirt. Not to mention it smells so much like him it’s almost dizzying.

“There you go,” he’s saying, smoothing the material over your shoulders with his palms. His touching sends a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the cold. “Is that any better?”

“I— yeah. Yeah, Steve, thank you,” you stammer. Your heart pitter-patters in your chest. The jacket is nice but his kindness alone is enough to warm you through. “Thanks.”

Steve smiles at you. He doesn’t seem to notice your flustered state, or if he does, he doesn’t mention it.

“No problem,” Steve says, grinning boyishly. He rubs your shoulder one last time before drawing away. “Couldn’t let a pretty girl like you freeze to death.”

You spend the rest of your time at the beach hot as a flame.

[vodika-vibes]

Hey, babes, I'm back, but only because you asked for a Dogma request, lol. I am very happy to oblige 🥰

I left my paper with all my notes on it at work, so I'm trying to remember what gemstone and time I haven't asked for yet...

So, let's do Dogma, with a tanzanite, and 0600 (because it's Dogma, lol 😂)

Please and thank you 💚💚💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

I See You

Summary: You and Dogma are nothing alike, and that’s why you work so well together. You just have to remind him from time to time.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x GN!Reader

Word Count: 661

Prompt: Tanzanite - Perceptive Love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Alright! This is written, I'm going to take another nap on the couch now that I've eaten and hydrated. Hopefully the naps will help. Happy reading~

You and Dogma don’t make sense on paper.

The pair of you are as opposite as day and night in many ways. He’s neat and organized, while you’re not so much. He’s a stickler for the rules, and you've always viewed the rules as guidelines, rather than hard edicts.

He’s not much of a people person, and you’re something of a social butterfly.

No. On paper, the two of you don’t make sense, but you do work together. 

He brings some much needed order to your life, and you help him see that there’s more to life than being a soldier. Sure, there were some growing pains when your relationship first started, but you haven’t had any problems in months. 

So when Dogma starts pulling away, you’re concerned. 

Your immediate concern is that one of his brothers put a thought into his head, made him think that he’s breaking a rule by dating you. It’s happened before, after all. Though when you put your foot down and told his brothers that you would date Dogma or you would date none of them, that stopped right quick.

But, the more you watched him, the more you realized that this was something else.

It had to be something else.

So you wake with his alarm early one morning, when the sun is still low over the horizon, and you settle against the headboard as you watch him get ready for the day. 

He likes keeping his schedule the same, even on days when he’s not working, which is why he’s awake at 0600 every morning. It can be frustrating, but you love him, so you deal with it.

He’s watching you with dark eyes, “Why are you awake, cyare?” Dogma asks, “You never wake up this early on your days off.”

You tilt your head as you watch him pull a loose tee shirt over his head, “I’m thinking.” You muse thoughtfully, as you allow your gaze to trace the geometric tattoos that run down his arm.

He folds his arms, “About what?”

Your gaze drifts up to his face, and you trace the tattoo on his face with a small, fond smile. “You, mostly.” A flush raises onto his cheeks and he averts his gaze. His shoulders seem to curl in on him, and you frown.

Your Dogma is so clever. He knows wartime and battles and weapons and ships-

But you know people. You read people like he reads books. And you don’t like what you’re reading on his body.

“Dogma,” You slide to the edge of the bed, reaching out for him, “When did you become so uncertain of my love for you?” You ask softly, “Have I said something?”

His gaze snaps to yours, “I’ve never doubted that!”

“Then,” You muse thoughtfully, “Perhaps you’re unsure of your love for me?”

“Never,” His arms unfold and he slides his hands into yours before he kneels at your feet, “I’m not sure about a lot of things, cyare, but you…I’ve never doubted how I feel for you. Or how you feel for me.”

You slide your hands up his arms to press them against his face, “But you are unsure about something.”

He hesitates, “One of my brothers,” Dogma finally admits, “has been telling me that I don’t deserve you. And,” he sighs, quiet and slow, “I can’t help but think that he’s got a point.”

You’re quiet for a moment, “Dogma,” You lightly tug him in to brush your lips against his, “My opinion on this remains as it was when we first started dating.”

He shoots you a puzzled look.

Your smile is soft, “My choice is you. It’s always been you. It’ll always be you.”

Dogma smiles, it's a small thing, but it’s real, and he pulls your head down to press your forehead against his. “How do you always know what to say?”

“Because I see you, Dogma. I always have. And I like what I see.”

[tojikai]

In Another Universe...

Pairing: Toji x Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Implied death (?)

NOTE: I just really like written letters. AND I miss Toji.

"My love for him could cross the harsh waters of the oceans and still arrive undamaged."

Once there was a man sitting by the ocean, his hair moving with the wind. His eyes focused on the vast body of water in front of him. The horizon gave him a loving look as it bade him goodbye. Albeit fading with each second that passes, it let him feel the warmth of her touch like how the smoke dances for the eyes as it dissipates into thin air. 

There was a chime-like sound beside his feet, as the tightly sealed bottle repeatedly tapped on the rocks. Calling out to him, like how a siren melodically serenades her prey before pulling them into the abyss. Like a hand grabbing his, begging to be saved before the cruel waters pulls it and drown it again. 

His eyes were glued to the rolled paper inside—brownish and marked with ink—obviously bearing a message to be found. 

He quickly grabbed the bottle, wiped the moisture with his shirt, and gave his all to open the lid. It was almost like its content was calling out to him. The amount of strength he gave in pulling the bottle's seal was nothing compared to how much air it took out of his lungs as he read the letter of a lover to a former one. 

My dearest,

There has not been a single day where you do not cross my mind. How much time has passed since I last saw you? I hope you're living a better life now. How's your love, my love? I hope she keeps you warm every night and loves you each day. 

Only if you knew, there's nothing I wouldn't give just to be in her place even for a day.

But to be someone you loved, I have experienced it all already. And although it didn't last here with you, it still does in my memory. There's no way I'd forget how I was given the chance to feel all of you—your touch, the beat of your heart, the heat radiating from your soul. 

And even if you didn't feel that same way with mine, I assure you, my love for you has never changed nor faltered. Not even once, not even a bit. 

How I long to be the person who brings out the best in you. Just like how she did and probably how she still does. Surrendering you was the hardest decision I had ever made but I learned from my father that we must learn to submit all things that don't belong to us. I was thinking that maybe even though I had you all those years, you were not meant to be mine. Maybe I wasn't deserving of you, my love, but the Gods are witnesses to how hard I tried. 

When you chose her over me, I already knew that I had to surrender. When you rejected my embrace, I suffered my first death.

And maybe you were hers all along. And I just happened to pick you up when you were drifting in the seas. I just happened to be a ship but you had found the way to your beloved homeland. And dear, my soul ached as I prayed every night that you'd change your mind and decide to sail in these harsh seas with me again. Turns out, I was only meant to deliver you to the place where you want to be.

As days went by, I learned that nothing else matters but your happiness. And as long as you're happy, I'll be okay. Even as I lay here in this cold bed, praying that my wounds get to heal and my scars get to fade before I watch my final sunset, I'll be okay. Because I know that you're spending your every day in love. 

I spent all my days loving you too, please know that. I know that you'd love her greater than you did love me, and that's okay. We're meant to feel more for the people who gave us more. But darling, even if I couldn't give you much, know that I loved you with all that I got, with all that I am. 

I pray that when I reach my point of delirium, my hallucinations would be you bursting through the door, asking me to run away with you. Then, I'd be happy to go. And if not, then that's okay. Leaving this world knowing that you are living your life without heartache is enough. 

So, be happy, okay? Build her the world, take her to space. Make her your universe, honey. And I'll make you my song. I'll close my eyes to you. I'll gladly let my memories of you lull me to eternal sleep.

My heart will yearn for you forever, even as it stops beating and turns to dust. The remaining half of my soul will ache for you even as it wanders these freezing lands. 

When I go, I pray that I end up in another universe where you also exist, and maybe there, you'll let me run into your arms again. 

Let’s meet again someday, my love. 

Eternally yours,

Y/N

There was a moment of silence as the letter came to a close. Only then had the man realize that a familiar voice in his head was reading it for him. It wasn’t just a letter he found. It was a heart, longing for someone who went away. It was a heart, tearing itself apart just so the words could flow out of it—words that will never ever be spoken. 

Letting the tears stream down his face, the man turned the paper to check the backside. There was a note, for him—the reader who got the drifting bottle.

To the person who will get this, please keep the letter safe. Perhaps, you can also let the ocean protect it again if you want. Let it drift in the bottle to its ends but I beg of you not to destroy it or throw it away, for it is the only forever that I can get with the love of my life. 

Was this the woman he refused to give another chance to years ago? 

[sighonaraa]

🌹🌹🌹🌹 Can we have a little Jamie gets hugged six ways snippet? Pretty please? as a little treat?

ABSOLUTELY YOU MAY!!!!! i love this fic and i will NEVER shut up about it. here you go!!

“I won’t,” says Roy, which—isn’t what Jamie’d expected. “I won’t touch you, Jamie. Promise.” And there’s a solid surety to Roy’s voice, a grounded calm that hooks into the naked, vulnerable ache of Jamie’s chest and keeps him from running off the way he so terribly wants to. He allows a breath to escape his mouth. “O-okay,” he stammers; curls his fingers into the sleeves of his shirt. “Thanks. I—thanks. Thank you.” “You don’t need to—” But whatever it is Jamie doesn’t need to do, he never finds out, ’cause Roy cuts himself off before he gets to it and changes tact. “Do you…want to come back to my house with me? I can make you breakfast.” No. It’s right there, on the precipice of Jamie’s tongue, and he can’t speak it into being. Wants to, but can’t. All he can think about is the empty, hollow coffin of his own gaff, the way it all feels foreign to him, as though he’s become a stranger in a strange land except the strange land is his house and the stranger is his reflection. And more than he wants to say no to Roy, he doesn’t want to return to that place. So, “Sure,” is what spills out, fractured and hopeful in the cold dawn light. “Sure, yeah. I’ll—yeah. Please.” And Roy nods, seeming relieved, seeming unsurprised, and waits for Jamie to venture closer to him before turning towards the brightening horizon and the path that’ll lead them home. ** He’s never been to Roy’s house before, is something Jamie only realizes once he’s there, curled into the arm of the nice, deep couch in the living room, listening as oil crackles on the stove and the smell of diced bell peppers fills the air. He should be embarrassed, he thinks absently, to be sitting around on his arse while Roy makes him breakfast like he’s a child. Except shame is a distant thing, now. Beyond his reach. Scrambling around out there on the road, all hands and knees and panting breaths, a hunted animal biting desperately at any hand that comes near, has scraped him to the absolute bottom of his emotional barrel. He can’t stretch his mind around anything more than exhaustion. And hunger. He’s so fucking hungry. He expects Roy to call him to the kitchen once it’s time to eat, but instead Roy ends up bringing two plates heaped with cheesy omelets and fried potatoes into the living room, sets them both on the coffee table and then adds a mug to the display, topped high with whipped cream. “Hot chocolate,” he tells Jamie, which is good, ’cause if Roy Kent put whipped cream on his coffees then Jamie would just maybe have to re-think twenty years of hero worship. Then he points at the fork and says, “Fork.” “No shit?” Jamie asks, feigning shock, and almost slams his body back into the couch cushions, horrified. What the fuck. What the fuck. He can’t—he can’t—he can’t do that, can’t go around making fun of Roy when Roy’s wasted all this time bringing him home and cooking him breakfast and taking care of him even though Jamie deserves none of it, when Roy’s— Laughing. Quietly, shoulders shaking. Jamie stares at him, convinced there’s something deeper to it, that the laughter will crack open to reveal the cold, ugly innards, but it doesn’t. It slowly fades into a warm silence, and then Roy says, “Yeah, guess that was fucking stupid of me. Go on, you muppet, eat before it gets cold.”

[pattywinchester]

Seaside

Prompt 1

Dean never thought he’d find peace.  The hunter was accustomed to the roar of engines and the hiss of danger, not the gentle lull of waves. Yet, here he was, standing on a deserted stretch of beach, the wind ruffling his flannel shirt, as he watched the horizon turn from gold to a deep, calming blue.

Beside him, Castiel stood quietly, his ever-present trench coat fluttering in the breeze. The angel’s blue eyes reflected the vastness of the ocean, capturing the same power and beauty Dean had come to cherish. They had fought countless battles together, faced down monsters, and saved the world more times than he cared to count. But this moment felt different. It felt like a victory all on its own. The sun dipped lower, casting a warm glow over the sand. Dean glanced at Castiel, his heart swelling with feelings that had grown quietly, like the tide creeping up the shore. He thought of the countless times Cas had saved him, not just from physical dangers, but from the darkness within himself. The angel has been his anchor, his constant, in a life filled with chaos.

“Dean,” Castiel’s voice was soft, barely louder than the lapping of the waves. “Why did you bring me here?”

Dean shrugged, a small smile playing at his lips. “Thought it was time we had a break. Besides,” he added, turning to face Cas fully, “you deserve to see something beautiful.”

Castiel’s gaze softened, a hint of confusion mingling with the affection in his eyes. “I have seen beauty, Dean. I see it every time I look at you.”

Dean felt a blush creep up his neck, and he ducked his head, scuffing his boot in the sand. “Shut up, Cas,” Dean responded, although it was hard for him to disguise his pleasure.

They stood in comfortable silence, the sound of the ocean filling the space between them. Dean reached out, hesitantly at first, and took Castiel’s hand in his. The touch was grounding, electric.

“Is this ok?” Dean asked, his voice rough with the rush of emotion.

Castiel’s eyes searched Dean’s face, before dropping his gaze to their hands. Castiel was silent for a long time before looking back up at Dean, his face flushed, his eyes shining.  “Dean...?” Castiel responded, incredulity, hope, and love clear in his eyes.

Dean took a deep breath, the words tumbling out before he could second-guess himself. “I love you, Cas. I’ve loved you for a long time.”

For a moment, Castiel said nothing, his expression unchanged. Then, a slow, radiant smile spread across his face. “I love you too, Dean. More than you know.”

Dean felt a weight lift off his shoulders, a sense of completeness he hadn’t realized he was missing. He pulled Castiel into a gentle embrace, their foreheads touching.  Dean felt an unfamiliar sense of calm settle over him. The ocean's rhythmic murmur seemed to echo the newfound peace in his heart. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them standing on the beach, enveloped in the soft, dimming light.

Dean looked out at the ocean, the waves gently lapping at the shore. "You know, I used to think I'd never find a place where I could just... be. Where I could stop running from everything."

Castiel tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "And now?"

Dean turned back to him, the corners of his mouth lifting in a shy smile. "Now, I think I've found it, with you."

Castiel's expression softened, his eyes reflecting all the mystery and allure of the boundless sea. "You are my home, Dean," he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of eternity. "No matter where we go, as long as we're together, I will always have peace."

The words hung in the air, mingling with the sound of the waves and the faint call of distant seabirds. Dean nodded, feeling the truth of them resonate. He leaned in, resting his head against Castiel's shoulder, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Bathed in the tranquil glow of the moon and stars, the two men stood, side by side on that long stretch of sand, while the waves continued their gentle dance.

And in that moment, everything felt right. Complete.  It felt like the end of one journey and the start of another – a new chapter in their lives, with the sweetest of beginnings... written right there, together, by the edge of the sea. 

[blackcatnip]

A demon would do better than that

**Whumptober 2024** Running out of time | panic attack

In which Dazai and Chuuya are leaving Paris and returning to Japan but that gives Dazai too much time to think about what happened.

Feel like this could have been ‘whumper’ but I have a weak spot for soukoku and happy endings

TW: suicide ideation, self loathing

His breath keeps getting thinner, the world around him spinning and spinning. They are running out of time, every tick of that horrendous watch in Chuuya’s wrist keeps reminding him of that. Fyodor went to Yokohama and they are stuck in this stupid helicopter.

He can’t breathe, why can’t he breathe? He grabs his shirt fiercely hoping it would ground him and stop this. Doesn’t work.

He got it all wrong, Dazai Osamu is no genius, he is a sham, a failure. They depended on him, and look how it turned out.

A fucking demon. Bringing disgrace to everyone he loves. No, he wished he was a demon, to be blessed with the aspect of not caring about anyone, but he isn’t. He has feelings, and those feelings are now telling him to jump from this helicopter.

Because he deserves it. Because he is a coward — too afraid to see what his mistakes caused to his family back in Yokohama.

“You better stop looking like that or I will chain you to your seat.”

The world stops abruptly and Dazai looks up to a Chuuya staring into his soul.

“Don’t know what you mean.”

“I could hear you spiraling from a mile away, and you can be damn sure I am not letting you stupid mackerel run away from this.”

“I can’t defeat him. He outsmarted me.” Dazai says, voice cracking.

He looks away, his wounds are throbbing, a pain that once was a concession for their victory now was just another reminder of his failure.

“Maybe you can’t, maybe when we get there everyone will already be dead.”

His turns, gaze fixed on Chuuya who is just staring at the horizon.

“But I want to see it for myself. If we are going down, I will fall beside my companions. I want to know their last words. Or at least how they died. Don’t you?”

He gives one last look at the ground, contemplating. So far away. It wouldn’t be a painless death anyway.

“Yeah I do.”

“Good.” A pause, and to his surprise Chuuya grabs his coat and throws it at him. “But I know you will defeat him. You have a promise to uphold.”

He grabs it tight, feeling the comfort it always gives him.

“Careful Chibi, one more world and I will start to believe you still trust me.”

“Humpf, never stopped, your are a traitorous shithead. But I still trust you with my life. So put it together.”

Dazai blinks stunned. Chuuya’s face already turning into a tomato. A smile finds it’s way to Dazai’s face. He isn’t the demon prodigy anymore, he is too deep in the light for that, he can’t do things as flawless as one without emotions, they get in the way now.

But a demon wouldn’t have this, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

I'm here for a third time, Laura! Hope I'm not a bother. 😅 I just really like reading your thoughts and seeing your content.

But! This time, I'm here to ask for a oneshot from Option #1 of your anniversary event. Could I get an order of Josele x Morgen gin&tonic (hurt-comfort) set at a party/ball, with a side order of reminiscing (maybe thinking about their first date or dance together)?

Hiya Erika~!! ^^

Of course you're not a bother!! I love having you around. And I hope you find this to do justice for Morgsele. Pairing: Morgen x Josele; Morgsele Prompt: Gin&Tonic (hurt-comfort) at a party with a dance and reminiscing their first date, which ends with a kiss Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~1.5k Warnings: umm... angsty? Does that count?

Evening. Dark in every other aspect but the slowly disappearing sun in the horizon and the lights of the Grey Deer headquarters. A little ball, or at least a party, to which Morgen had asked Josele to accompany him. Though perhaps someone might have argued that it was only expected that she would have joined him, Morgen had still thought it to be only right to properly request her presence. Which she had of course accepted without a doubt.

She was wearing a light grey dress with an asymmetrical hem, going all the way to the floor on one side, and staying right below the knee on the other. The surface was light, composed of large ruffles, over which there was a mesh that glittered in any light they passed, much like a starry sky.

He, on the other hand, was wearing a formal outfit. A jacket, white, of course, light grey vest that tinted a bit towards blue under it, and a white dress shirt and pants. It was all a tad bit more structured and stiff than what he preferred, but it was a formal event. And one simply couldn’t go about such a rare event in everyday clothes, granted that there were more than enough opportunities for balls and parties for nobles.

But this seemed more special. Because this was one among the knights. The people he spent a lot of time with, unlike the nobles he knew barely by name.

Though, the knights, would perhaps been more accepting in him wearing something more casual, since they were his friends and knew him. But still, he wanted to look the part.

Look the part of a man, who deserved to be with someone like Josele.

Everyone should see how wonderful she truly is, he thought as he led her through the dance floor that evening. And surely they do. They’d be blind, if they didn’t.

He closed his eyes in a slow blink, smiling like he usually did, in his opinion at least. But as she saw Josele give him a curious smirk, he knew that the smile must’ve been wider, or perhaps just ‘more radiant’.

‘More radiant’… it’s only because it’s your light, reflected off of me… he thought with yet another tender, slightly amused manner, but only amused in its utter happiness. Truly I am… a lucky man…how did I ever manage to gain the permission to walk by you?

There was a pause, just a brief one, until he felt her hand on his cheek. “Momo… is everything okay?” She asked with a whisper, making him chuckle, although with a hint of melancholy in it still, despite the way the corner of his mouth tugged up.

She really does notice… and it’s not just because of her magic… Or rather, it’s because the magic she possesses in herself, not just her affinity. The magic that’s more than magic, more than mana.

“Yes, my heart, everything is alright,” he told her, while taking a hold of hand and bringing it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“Are you certain?” She still inquired with a curious, and worry laced, expression.

“Yes,” he replied, but with less confidence this time. “But… let’s go, for a bit, to somewhere more secluded.” He tugged along away from the dancefloor, away from prying eyes, but in the movement there was still the gentlemanly grace that allowed them to slip by without notice. It was as if they would have flowed through the space with such grace and ease that it seemed only natural. As if thieves in the night.

And so, he led her down the corridors, away from the ballroom and into the garden, lit by nothing more than the moon, the stars, and a few lanterns here and there.

“So, will you tell me what’s wrong?” She asked while holding his hand; gripping it gently, to let him know that she was there.

“I…” he replied, half sighed, “I was honest when I said that nothing is wrong. But I am…perhaps a bit sombre.”

“Oh?” She uttered. “About?” There was curiosity in her tone this time, a bit brighter than a moment before.

“About… the passage of time, I suppose,” he replied as they continued to walk through the garden. “It seems like it was only yesterday that I took you out on our first date,” he smiled, but it was a smile filled with gentle melancholy. “I was quite nervous, despite us having known for years,” he admitted, laughed even a little bit.

“So was I,” she admitted as her gaze fell to the ground for a passing moment as they walked, but there was a smile on her lips. “Because it wasn’t … just us as friends anymore then, it was us as a couple.”

He hummed in agreement. “It was us as… what I hoped would become us as a couple,” he corrected her with a hint of amusement.

“You hoped?” She quirked an eyebrow. “And I thought that I was considered as the undeserving one, you being noble and all,” she joked, with a hint of truth in it.

“To the blind,” he replied. “That’s the thing about you Josele,” it had been so long since he had called her by her, entire, given name, instead of a nickname. “You’re so… humble and modest that you don’t see your own greatness and light.” He thought out loud, and a part of her wanted to banter, to make a joke, but … the way Morgen said it, the way his words held quiet sombre, filled with certainty, that she decided to stay quiet. “I am lucky, to have you by my side,” he said, stopping, but keeping his hold of her hand, and gently guiding her to face him. “And, at times I… don’t think you quite realize how much you mean to me, quite know just how… great you are, which I suppose is a mere reflection of my shortcomings in making you see it,” there was an attempt of a joke in there, but Josele, even after all the years of knowing him, wasn’t quite sure how to reply to him, in that moment, in that dimply lit garden, in the barely escaped light of the world in which he was her light, and she was his.

“Momo I…”

“I was terrified,” he told her, “on the day we had out first date,” he admitted. “Because there was no going back from it. It was the, very much a, do or die moment. For from that moment on, being simply friends wasn’t an option, and I wished and hoped and pleaded for this future with all my heart and soul and I…” he swayed his head, from side to side, and looked her in the eye… But words… they seemed to fail him. “And now… we’re here.”

The way he said ‘here’, made it seem like the present, the ‘now’ was concrete. In a way that she was aware of it. Right here and now.

“That day seems like it was both, an eternity ago, and only yesterday.” He continued, not sure where he was going.

“And… now?” She asked with a whisper, not quite sure what she had meant with it either. But somehow it had seemed like a sensible question. After all, they were there. Right there. In that moment. But something had to succeed that moment. Something needed to come after it.

One doesn’t just jump from the edge of the pier and stay in mid-air. Something happens, afterwards.

“And now… we see,” he said, while squeezing her hands. “I’m not… sure, where our journey ends us, but... with you, I'm sure that I’ll be happy with whatever fate has instore for us,” he smiled to her. And in that smile radiated nothing but confidence. Because he was sure, that he’d be happy with her. She was his heart, his light in the world, the light of a Light Mage.

He was sure, that he’d be happy with her, on their common journey.

“I love you, Josele. I have, for a long, long time, and I will love you, until my breath is only with the wind, my bones are embraced by the roots, and when flowers will bloom from my grave, and even beyond that. I am, happy,” he told her. “And I am the luckiest man on earth, to have you,” he added.

And she was left speechless. Only a tear of joy rolled down her cheek as a reply before she leaned in for a kiss, and he followed the movement. All the way until their lips met in a tender, secure kiss in a world that held hope of a bright future for them.

[adridoesstuff]

🤍 kiss at the wedding / milestone for todolf or Tod/Sisi, whichever you prefer :D

“No, you don’t understand what is important now and I refuse to just comply and look on while I know there is a way for me to actually be of help!” Rudolf strongly said to his baffled father. The Emperor was in shock to see the crown prince, who up until now has always been very withdrawn and timid, speak to his own father in such a manner.

“What do you plan to do?” Franz Joseph asked. “do you want to play journalist again and write more atrocious articles rallying the people against me? If so, then you will bring eternal shame onto the dynasty and I might as well start thinking about making Franz Ferdinand my heir instead of you. Despite all your troubling behavior so far, I didn’t want to think of disinheriting you, but you are walking on thin ice, Rudolf.”

“If you think that arrogant brute would be a better ruler than your own son, then let the ice break underneath me.” Rudolf said resolutely and turned to the door. “Either way, the monarchy is slowly dying and in the end, I might be glad to not see it further wither away from within.” He said and shut the door behind him.

Rudolf was positively fuming at the ignorance displayed by his father. It was preposterous to think that the olden ways of the monarchy would endure further on, now that new possibilities were on the horizon. Sure, in the simpler times, the luster of a dynastic monarchy could be reassuring, but the times were so different now and the world had far outgrown this tired institute.

Rudolf quickly went to the stables and saddled his horse, taking off for his hunting retreat in Mayerling. In the past months, it became his hideaway, where he could gather himself after getting reprimand by his father. He usually took the words of his father with a solemn silence, but today, something snapped in him and for the first time in his life, Rudolf fought back for his opinions.

Arriving at Mayerling, Rudolf went straight into his bedroom. He immediately tossed away that horrendous uniform jacket with a red starched collar he was forced to wear around his father. All because of the traditional royal decorum. He felt as if it was suffocating him. He unfastened the top three buttons of his shirt as well and poured himself a much needed glass of whiskey.

Contemplating the brownish liquid that swirled in his glass, he caught sight of a familiar figure reflected in the glass. Turning to the doorway, he smiled in relief to see his friend leaning there, just as mysteriously beautiful as always.

“I trust I’m not coming in at an inopportune time.” Death said as he scanned the room with his eyes. The tone of his voice suddenly turned sympathetic. “Did you get another scalding from your father?”

“Yes. But before, I couldn’t find the courage to do what I did today. I stood up to him.” Rudolf said and took a small sip of his whiskey, swirling the golden-brown liquid around while he felt the remnants of the bitter taste slip off his tongue.

“You did?” Death moved closer, observing the crown prince with curious eyes.

“Yes. At least he now fully knows where I stand.” Rudolf summarized and tried to smile at his dear friend. “After all, it is thanks to you that I found the courage. You helped me so much and you don’t even realize it.”

Death smirked and folded his spindly gloved fingers around Rudolf’s. “My prince, this was no doing of my own. You yourself stand behind your success and no one else. Don’t discredit yourself so. And for achieving such a task, you deserve a befitting award.” And bowing down, Death placed a fleeting kiss on Rudolf’s knuckles. “Don’t you think so, my prince?”

“Could you maybe do it again?” Rudolf asked, a slight blush spreading to his cheeks while the cold sensation of his friend’s kiss seeped into his fingers.

Death smirked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Who am I to refuse you, my dear prince?”

[kwardo]

Day Two / August 23

It's a fine summer Friday today, perfect for wasting away my free time by playing video games.

Awww...maybe waking up extra early today wasn't such a bad idea. That's right, I had to get up before 12PM today so that I could invest some time in this game. I'm running on a loaf of bread, so today's blog might sound dull.

He had to show up sooner or later. This is every Animal Crossing player's most dreaded interaction. Now, my game froze for seemingly no reason and I was forced to restart my computer. Yes, I know, I'm a monster for using an emulator. Maybe I deserved to get scolded by Mr. Mole here. You could actually visit the Reset Surveillance Center in Doubutsu No Mori e+. Shame on you if you think it's a New Leaf exclusive area. It's nothing special, really, just a small room with some essentials.

Nook was selling a shovel today, so I went ahead and bought that. Shovels are an investment, really. You can yield a profit of 14,300 bells daily with one, so I went ahead and bought one. I'm not sure if this game has golden shovels, and if they even do anything of significance. There was also this Grandfather Clock on display, but the asking price was too high - 2,180 Bells. "It's okay" I thought. "I'll just pay for it by finding the money rock". I spent the next 10 minutes hunting out the one miraculous boulder. What a drag.

Instead, I found this. It's a puzzling shirt. I'm puzzled as to why one would want to resemble a Rubik's cube, but you know how the saying goes - different strokes for different folks. It's only fitting that this was at the Town Dump.

I picked up this Sailor outfit instead, which I think is much more appealing. I'm also noticing the horns on our head, and their presence begs a lot of questions. Why are they there? Is my character a mutant? Possibly. I'll try to make up a theory later on. I'd put the 3PM hourly theme here, but it's nothing special. It's predecessor is much more alluring. So much so that you're gonna listen to it.

New Horizons music could never.

Oh no. As the good neighbor I am, I let Bubbles ask me for a favor, and this is what she asked of me. I feel really sorry for her, I really do, I'm empathetic, but she better start browsing for new cameras. I had to politely refuse, as much as it hurt.

"Hey, wait! Hold It! That's, like, a breach of contract or something, isn't it, hipster?" That was her response. She still has me confused for this "Hipster" dude, but I'm just gonna skim over that part. I couldn't just let Spike get away with stealing people's valuables. I'm the only one that should be doing that. Had to teach him a lesson.

Good luck buying groceries, now. Only way out is through the window now, and no, he can't jump over the holes. His beer belly takes away his ability to partake in any locomotion other than walking. I've been scrutinizing every last rock in town, and I've yet to find the donor rock. All I've found is fossils, which should bring in a lot more revenue. I remember selling away all my fossils the first time I played City Folk, not realizing that they have to be examined by the museum curator first, and I lost about 4 good fossils. Not gonna make that same mistake again!

Now this is just splendid. Not only does he sleep during duty, but he's also useless. Absolutely horrid. Instead of giving him the fossils directly, you have to mail them to the National museum instead. You have to wait a whole day (or two? Not really sure here) to get your fossil examined. Well, at least we have a reason to buy stationary now, because who actually writes to the villagers in this game? I know I didn't. That's mostly because writing is very tedious in this game.

Boots here asked me to pick up his Gameboy from Bubbles, and like, how lazy can you be? She's in cumshot distance, but whatever. Makes it easier for me to complete the chore. I got rewarded with stationary, wow! How very unsatisfying. I would sell it, but the selling price is laughable, so I'm just gonna keep it for when the Farway museum reaches out to me (they sure are taking their sweet time)

I just wanna point out how much I love slopes (slopes, edges? I'm not sure) like these. I'd love to get baked on the edge of that cliff with someone (or just on my own..)

Alright, first roadblock. Nobody really owns a Gameboy anymore, and I'm not convinced you can even connect one to Dolphin. I'm sure there's a fix for this. Will look into it later.

Boyfriend?? Yeah, no, I'm not gonna go fishing for another man. I have some dignity. I did find the money rock, finally, but I messed up and only got 1,300 Bells instead of the maximum of 11 thousand. Can't even buy that grandfather clock anymore. The game actually refers to it as a "Classic Clock", but that sounds worse, and It doesn't sound good.

If anything, this is what a Classic Clock is. It's the first prototype (and the first image that came up when I looked up "first clock prototype". Might be spreading misinformation here) so I better not see anyone calling the Grandfather Clock "Classic".

And here I was, wondering why I couldn't find the magical glowing spot. It's hidden really well (you can't see it but there's trees in the northern acre, making it even harder to spot). That's another thousand bells. At last, I can buy the vintage clock and rest easy tonight.

And this is what my interior looks like! It's cozy and unique..I'm not sure what the purpose of Gyroids in this game is. They've always been a spook to me. Maybe we'll find out more about them as we progress through the game. Maybe not. I did send Emerald a mega-something-gyroid in the mail today, so I'm hoping I get something equally amazing in return. Today wasn't as eventful as yesterday, but that's okay. I'm really disappointed that I couldn't get my hands on a Net, though. You'll find out why later.

[ofthoughtsandmemories]

I was loading up tumblr to take a look at some older posts on my main blog and, for some reason, this blog was what loaded first. It was a real slap in the face, honestly, but not in a terrible way.

It's sort of coincidental that I run across this blog unintentionally when very recently I've been reflecting on how tumblr and internet culture as a whole in my teenage years affected my mental health and sense of self. I think a lot about the Twenty One Pilots Era and how depression and anxiety and other mental health problems were not just normalized, but celebrated. It was extremely toxic and I fell into that pit so easily.

I believe I have always suffered from depression and anxiety - or at least symptoms of both regularly enough to distinguish it from ADHD - but I just have this gut feeling that I would have been better off if I had never participated in that kind of community at all. I developed anorexia and made thinspo blogs. I found myself desperately wanted to be diagnosed officially with something so that I could feel... validated, I guess? Special? Worth something? Which was probably indicative of mental illness in itself, but still, the guilt of "faking it" has haunted me all my life. Even well past the point of growing up and realizing these communities were harmful.

It made me treat my friends poorly. I was paranoid and selfish and hurting, and I lashed out at people who didn't deserve it. Kayden in particular lingers in my mind. I'd like to apologize someday, but I don't know if it's worth bringing up old pain if he still even thinks about it. Same with Paige, since I know now that what I felt for her was limerance and an extremely unhealthy anxious attachment style/codependence. It was not her fault and I feel like, at least at one point, she thought it was. I hope she realizes the truth now.

I'm in my third year of grad school. Every year has been a series of increasingly difficult mental, social, and academic challenges. Hell, even physical, at this point. I reached one of the lowest spots of my life on my 24th birthday this year, where I finally got low enough that suicide was a real, serious option, and I asked my friends to hospitalize me. I only spent 2 or so days in a psych ward, but it was terrible enough to deter me from doing that again unless the stakes are truly dire. I felt so dehumanized. My things were taken, I was forced to strip and put on scrubs that didn't fit, I was free bleeding with no underwear for 8 hours and even still didn't receive a menstrual pad until a few hours before my discharge, I was put in a room in the ER where there was no bed, only a tiny cot on the floor, and when I was at the ward I was woken up all hours of the night by people taking my vitals or asking me question or even just other patients screaming their distress at nothing in the rooms adjacent to me. A man I discharged with, clearly homeless and mentally unwell, had an angry rampage in the lobby as I was waiting for my friend to pick me up. I watched him walk off into the cold weather with no shirt and no place to go. I can't stop thinking about it.

I don't know if I'm going to graduate this semester. I'll make it work if I don't, but it's going to be a financial strain on both myself and my parents. I'm feeling marginally better recently after starting some new meds and seeing my therapist more frequently and having my Omaha friends to rely on, so I'm hopeful that I can get everything done that I need to. We will see.

I guess I just wanted to use this space as a little journal to reflect on the past semester and stuff. Part of me hopes someone sees it, just to share a piece of myself with someone, but that part of me is pretty selfish.

Things will get better. I know that and I can see it on the near horizon. I just need to do my part, ask for help when I need it, rely on my friends, and stay optimistic as best I can. No one will be able to say I didn't try.

Anyway... here's a picture of Spoon and Fork for a palate cleanser for myself. I'm gonna go bother them with kisses now

[trapton]

𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚐𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 that worsened in death, even in the digital. deserved or not, that was never the question. vindication is on the horizon, and his girls had always been the most treasured of the aftons spawned from his early desire for a perfect family. three unplanned children embraced in light of the image, and of course genuine fatherly love. followed by elizabeth. yet these woes (tragedies of humanity) were those he had sought to leave behind him with ascension, and namely the death knell chiming the end of his second to last child. the one who'd thought he'd ended him. ultimate showing of hubris. with that being said, ollie had long since left him behind [...] and he had doubted that they would ever meet one another again. however with the re-introduction of his family, it was growing more difficult not to go back to old habits. or [...] let's call them earthly desires to -- reconcile.

he can't bring himself to be viscerally upset at the lack of her grabbing that child by the mouth while she had the chance. nor allowing him to take over her flesh in the pursuit of madness science. in the furthering of their goals. a loss of precious time, giving leniency to something going wrong. it's fine. (he supposes) [...] plenty of access. he wants his own voice to leave mouth, longing for the days of children clinging with glee to bonnie, seeking privilege to steal prevalent figure's attention.

he's leaning against a shelving unit once they're alone. looks as though he's a flesh and bone man with a grin on his face. shirt that looks a little too big on his arms tucked under a sweater vest. his elbow perched on metal with a heavy lean, and his toe pointed that's crossed over the opposite ankle. his brunette hair is long and sitting along his cheeks, with grey eyes narrowed in the tilt of his mouth. the only way you could tell he was a glitch was that of his form flickering at certain points. shaking hair out of his face before a finger drags some behind an ear. "tisk, tisk darling. did father teach you to squander an opportunity when it sees fit to present itself?" he wonders, space between brow narrowing with his teeth hidden behind a more subdued smirk, amusement in it with just a fleck of irritation hidden within. scrutiny a better word for it, perhaps. the reminiscent look to a younger michael would be something that marked a more perfect target for his rage.

his voice is still tinged with a the grit of after death, though otherwise the same. "i thought you were trying to re-learn all of the knowledge i've given you. were you planning to proceed with the procuring of another specimen? did this impede your work? help me understand, olive." [...] he straightens himself, walking forth with a tilt of his head in question. hands casually slipping into his 'pockets'. "vanny is almost finished with the construction of my body, from the scrap left behind by your brother's little -- attempt. but we need to be prepared."

@trapton feeling so normal rn.

She's only beginning to really let him get what he wants. It started with the jobs at locations. She hadn't fully realized it hadn't been her idea for that, she had thought it would be an opportunity to figure out how to stop him. Not aware it was exactly what he wanted. But as he became more...active, there's only so much one can do to hold that off, to not start falling into going along with it, even if she still did everything to hold him off. She's fighting a losing battle, but it won't stop her from fighting.

It hadn't pushed her to a kid, though, until today. A boy she found sneaking around an employees only area. Feeling him struggle in her head against the walls she tried to build. The only reason the kid is still alive is because he reminded her of Michael, and that had been enough to cling to as she simply escorted him back to the main rooms. She doesn't want to know what will happen to the next kid, when that reminder won't be there.

When it's just her in the building, she allows those walls to break. Not intentionally, of course, it's never her choice to let him out. But she's exhausted, and that gives him his chance.

She stops what she's doing as soon as soon as she feels his presence, turning to look at him. There's not a single moment of hesitation before doing so. Isn't that what they've been working on, making sure she gives him her full attention in these moments? Like a pet finally trained on a command. She stays there, quiet, first waiting for him. To see if there's anything else he wants from her before she gets the chance to act of her own accord.

"What-" The tone is harsh at first, but softens just a little. He really has been starting to do a number on her recently. "What is it?" Less the original unwelcome greeting and more a genuine question. What do you need, what can I do for you?

Soon, there will be very little she won't do for him. Not just yet, though.

[bunn1loid]

(tw for sh and suicide? i read the rules, please dont feel forced to do it, only if you want to and are comfortable with it!!, sorry if its too specific im just in a really bad place rn and theyre my comfort characters NXSJXN /g) i hope youve been doing well, i was wondering if i could request venti, xiao, and diluc comforting their bestfriend (gn please!) thats been secretly struggling with severe depression, sh and suicidal thoughts? thank you :D have a nice day/night, remember to hydrate! <3

❝ 𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓮 ❞

➝ venti, xiao, diluc

     comforting you when you’re depressed

➝ pronouns: they/them

➝ warnings: depression, self-harm, suicidal thoughts

➝  a/n: hello anon! i'm sorry you have to suffer so much, and i hope this will bring you some comfort. if you ever need to talk, i'll be there, okay? i wish you the best, you deserve it. pls stay safe, and have a good day/night too ♡

🍂 𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓲:

• when you befriend venti, he quickly notices that something about you is... off.

• you don’t radiate the same happiness as most of the inhabitants of mondstadt, and while he knows he shouldn’t press you for answers, he worries for you greatly.

• still, he struggles to find the reason why your smile rarely reaches your eyes, even though you wake up every morning, dress up and go outside -- and he’s always pleased to see you.

• it’s during one of those mornings that he notices a faint, red stain on your shirt. he stays silent about it until you’re both out of the city, he knows better than to question the blood on your clothes in front of the knights and... everyone else.

• he brings you to windrise, his usually cheerful behavior disappearing as you two approach the large tree. he holds your hand gently, and when he turns around to face you, you find yourself in front of barbatos.

• his physical appearance stays the same, but his eyes hold the wisdom of a god and the kindness of a friend. you can't help but shiver as you feel a lukewarm wind embracing you.

• venti carefully unbuttons the sleeve of your shirt and pulls it up to your elbow, letting out a quiet sigh when he sees the injuries.

• “ y/n, you do not need to hide from me. “ he murmurs as he stares into your eyes. they remind him of a land he once knew; cold, filled with pain and utterly devastated. “ i know you’re not feeling well. would you please tell me what pains you so much ? “

• your heart aches in your chest when he takes you in his arms. venti kisses your eyelids, wanting to take away your tears.

• you try to explain your feelings, but it’s so... confusing, even to you. you just want it to end, all of this, and it hurts. you cry harder in venti’s arms, craving his touch and wanting him to hug you tighter.

• " this world is beautiful, y/n. " he says as he stares at the horizon.

• you rest your head on his chest and follow his gaze with your own eyes. with your blurred vision, you see leaves are floating in the wind and birds are singing around you. crystalflies glow in the sunlight and drop sparkling dust on your shoulders when they pass by.

• " you may not be able to realise it on your worst days, but you're still young, and you have so much to experience. " his arms leave your body, much to your dismay, and the sound of his fingers softly grazing against a lyre's strings fills the air. " i want you to listen to all the songs i play. only then i will allow you to rest. "

• he closes his eyes with a somewhat malicious smile on his lips. he knows he will never run out of songs to play and tales to tell.

🍂𝔁𝓲𝓪𝓸:

• he can sense when you are in danger.

• and he knows something is wrong: how come everytime he comes to defend you against any potential threat, he finds you alone with an obviously forced smile on your lips ?

• you can’t hide your troubles from him for long. after some time, he decides to spend the night right outside your window, on the balcony of your home. he wants to be near you to know what is going on, he’s desperate to understand.

• he runs to you as soon as he hears you whimper, and is horrified when he sees you sitting on the edge of your bed, an item in hand and wounds on your body.

• xiao tries to ignore the feeling of his heart crumbling as he grips your wrist, preventing you from harming yourself any more. the realisation that your biggest threat is yourself leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

• “ do not hurt yourself. “ he says, and you roll your eyes. these four words are so painful to you, almost more than your injuries. they sound so simple when they come out of his mouth, and yet... it’s almost impossible for you to stop. xiao notices your expression. “ your body is fragile, y/n. time itself is enough to damage it -- you will wither away before you know it. be gentle with your body, while it still supports you. you do not deserve pain. “

• sitting in front of you, he gestures you to place your hands in his. the tip of your fingers feel warmer when they come in contact with his skin. “ i know it’s easy to lose hope when you’re seemingly all alone and lost. i feel your pain. but you must remember that there will always be someone by your side. “

• xiao feels powerless; as your friend, he should protect you against any danger. and yet, when he tries to find his way in the maze that is your heart, he sees no way to repair it.

• nonetheless, he promises to stay with you no matter what.

• “ even if the world leaves you to perish, that someone by your side will be me. “

• you can expect him to keep you company when you come home from work. he doesn’t mind admiring the landscapes of Liyue from your balcony if it means you’re safe and sound near him.

• when the sun finally sets and you open the door of your home, you can regularly see qingxin flowers or shining crystals on your doorsteps.

🍂 𝓭𝓲𝓵𝓾𝓬:

• he might not make it obvious most of the time, but diluc loves you very much and cares for you.

• he regularly glances at you while working in the tavern, especially when you seem to be down. it’s a little routine for the two of you, to meet in front of his workplace in the evening. you keep him company while drinking and you two talk when he’s not too busy.

• when you don’t show up one night, he decides to wait for you a little longer, your favourite drink already on the counter.

• but you’re not planning to join him. you’re exhausted, in all the ways possible. your body is heavy as you drag yourself to your bed, tears silently falling from your eyes as you wonder, is it really worth it ?

• you unconsciously start scratching your hand, then your forearm. your nails touch your scars, your bruises. they hurt, but deep inside... you’re relieved, you feel warm.

• that warmth instantly disappears when you hear knocks on your door.

• you don’t want to walk all the way to the door, risk tripping on the mess that is your bedroom and have any social interaction..

• but a familiar voice comes from outside. “ y/n, are you in there ? “ diluc stops knocking, but you can’t hear his footsteps either, meaning he’s planning to stay in front of your apartment.

• you slowly make your way to your door, not wanting to keep your friend waiting; but stumble on a pile of clothes and nearly fall. you grow ashamed of the dirty clothes and dishes in your apartment, and fear diluc’s judgement.

• when you finally open the door to greet him, his eyes widen.

• he takes a look at your disheveled state, his heart twisting when he sees your hands, covered in red scratches. “ you look... “ you lower your head, waiting for him to comment on your appearance. all sorts of unkind words fill your head as you wait: dirty. messy. awful. “... tired. is everything alright ? “

• you can barely believe what he just asked you. how long has it been since someone cared so much about you ?

• you can’t control the tremors in your body as you let out a whimper and a few tears.

• diluc’s eyes immediately soften. he puts a warm hand on your shoulder and guides you in your own apartment, closing the door behind him. to your surprise, he doesn’t look disgusted by the mess in your home.

• “ y/n... “ he begins with an uncharastically soft tone in his voice. he's starting to understand what is going on as he looks at his surroundings, his eyes not missing the blood-stained tissues on the ground. " come here, please. "

• he sounds like he needs to have you close to him, and his body language only confirms it as he practically hides you in his coat. it's heavy on your back, giving you a feeling of safety.

• " i'm here now. you don't have to carry this burden on your own, okay ? " he sways back and forth, rocking you in his arms.

• just the thought of losing you is enough to make him sick, and he tries to hold you even closer to himself to ensure that you won't disappear.

• " i know the situation seems hopeless... but we will find a solution together. you can lean on me if your feelings are too heavy. " his words drip with sincerity as he speaks. you melt in his touch, feeling a little more secure.

[earlgreydream]

shadow summoner.

| darkling x shadow summoner!reader | smut |

worshiping the shadow summoner

for my dyad 🖤

cw: religious motifs

“Aleksander, I’m afraid.”

Your voice was small in the dark, getting lost in the thick, warm, shadows that curled around you.

You reached out in the night, praying for the presence of your shadow saint. Your eyes fluttered open as you heard a deep voice, familiar and authoritative.

“Y/N?”

Your vision focused on the man that stood before you, adorned in a black kefta and silver jewelry. Impossibly dark eyes gazed into yours, a sculpted face framed by black locks.

You sat up, trying to figure out how how the shadow summoner had suddenly appeared in your bedroom. Your trembling fingers clutched your sheets to your chest, offering you little protection as you stared at him.

“How?” You breathed, startled by the presence of the shadow-saint.

“I can feel you. We’re connected, I heard you calling for me,” the deep voice was impossibly smooth, the words effortlessly rolling off of his lips.

“Sankt Aleksander,” your voice was filled with reverence.

His small smile was devoid of the darkness that twisted in shadowy claws around his body.

You wondered if he was real. This gorgeous man- this saint- stood before you with unwavering power and authority. A man who’d shown up in your bedroom when you’d cried out to him, now tangible, using magic that had depths you couldn’t even begin to understand.

“Why me?”

“It is only us. You summon the shadows, do you not?” Aleksander inquired, tilting his pretty head.

You nodded, darkness spilling around you like water, seeping over the floorboards and covering everything in its path.

A proud smile graced his features. A smile you’d die to see again.

“I want to make you my protégé. To teach you how to control your power.”

“Yes, Sankt Aleksander.”

He held out his hand for you, a promise to take you away from the unholy place you resided in. Darkness seemed to rush through his veins, twisting in delicate patterns through his skin. 

“Let me take you far from this place. Let me make you a grisha so powerful that even the men of the Barrel in Ketterdam will fall at your feet in worship,” The Darkling spoke, dark eyes boring into yours, seeing the most hidden parts of your soul. 

“You have nothing to fear. Not anymore, not with me.”

You grasped his outstretched hand, bridging your connection and allowing yourself to be pulled through. 

.

Your black kefta swept the marble floors, darkness spilling out from your feet, swallowing the castle you stood in. Your training with the shadow saint had proved your talent as a student, and his as a teacher.

Aleksander gripped your wrist, amplifying your abilities. The darkness burst from within you, touching all the way to the horizon. 

“I’m proud of you,” he breathed, the words hot against your skin, his breath dancing along your neck, stirring your hair. 

“Let me worship you properly, Sankt,” you begged, turning in his grasp. 

Your chests rose and fell quickly, the intensity heightening between you. His hand came to your face, bringing you into a kiss. Even in his kiss he was authoritative, heavy and slow, consuming you in lust. 

Before you knew it, you were being pulled to his chambers. Your fingers unfastened the dark kefta, pushing it off of his shoulders. Black silk was tight against his skin, his pants already ill-fitting just from feeling your lips against his. 

You sank to your knees before him, your hands finding security on his strong thighs. You gently palmed him through the thin silk, suddenly feeling intimidated. He sensed the shift in your confidence, and his hand came down to your head, touching you almost tenderly. He was reassuring you, silently promising approval of your efforts. 

“Touch me, Y/N.”

Your fingers hooked into the waistband of the fabric that clung to his hips, pulling it down in one swift motion. You shifted as you felt your arousal pool between your legs at the mere sight of him. 

His fingers brushing over your cheekbone snapped you out of your stunned timidness. You carefully wrapped your hand around him, dragging your touch down his length and squeezing, monitoring his reaction. He leaned back against the wall, his hips tilted forward as you knelt between his feet, touching him in a calculated way, trying to extract the pleasure from him that he so desperately deserved. 

You didn’t need to be told to use your mouth, leaning forward and lapping your tongue over the beads that were dripping from his slit. A low noise erupted from his throat, his fingers threading into your hair, allowing him to guide your head. 

You parted your lips, letting him enter your throat. Aleksander’s moan of pleasure overshadowed the uncomfortable fullness of him in your mouth. Your hand continued to stroke what you couldn’t take, and you bobbed your head, guided by his hands. 

His dark head fell back in ecstasy, his moans growing louder as you hollowed your cheeks and worked harder to get him off. His lashes parted, gazing down at you with those dark eyes you wanted to lose yourself in, his heady gaze sending a wave of warmth through you. 

You swore you could’ve finished from pleasing him alone, the erotic action, the worship, making lust bloom in your core. It was better than magic, better than calling your power. You thought nothing could replicate that rush, but this was infinitely more satisfying. 

“If you don’t...” Aleksander started to speak, unable to make it through his warning before he was releasing down your throat. Tears welled in your eyes as you forced yourself to swallow, proving your devotion.

He pulled out of your mouth, his hands still cradling your head. You simpered, resting back on your heels as you gazed up at him. 

He smiled affectionately, the corners of his lips turning up. You leaned into his touch, warm under his adoring gaze. His tall frame bent down over you, pressing a kiss to your mouth, settling any insecurity that arose.

He lifted you to your feet, holding your body against his own. 

“Let me fuck you,” he mouthed along your neck, kissing the underside of your jaw and squeezing your breasts through your thin clothing. 

“Please, I need you,” your voice came out in a desperate whine, making him smirk at you. 

“You have me, summoner,” he assured you.

Your clothes were torn from your body in a display of power, a desperate need to bury himself inside of you. You felt no shame as he stripped you before him, his shirt falling to the floor with the rest of your clothes. 

Your hands went to his face, his dark hair prickling under your fingers. Your lips met in a fiery, heated kiss, igniting your body. You were practically screaming for him, a need burning so deep that only he could satiate it. 

“Fuck me, Aleksander,” you murmured against his mouth. 

He didn’t waste a single second after that, penetrating you until he was fully sheathed inside of you. A cry fell from your lips, your back arching, your chest pressing against his. Aleksander’s hips met yours, though he was much broader than you, his well-endowed length nearly tearing you apart. 

He bit your shoulder, stifling his own scream. He melted into you, letting your body swallow him. His swollen lips pressed to your throat, kissing your skin.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper inside of you. Darkness rose around you, your screams getting lost in the shadows that creeped around you. You threw your head back as Aleksander’s hips rocked against yours in hard, steady movements. Red lines dragged down his milky skin as you clawed at his back, the pressure building behind your navel. You felt every ridge and vein of him through your thin walls as he fucked you, sending shocks of pleasure through your limbs. 

“Aleksander!” you cried, your arms wrapping around his neck, holding his sweat-slick body against your own. 

“Let go, let me feel you fall apart on me,” Aleksander’s smooth voice pushed you over your peak, warmth radiating through your body as the tension in your legs released. 

Your screams were swallowed in his kiss, his seed pouring into you as he came for the second time. His hands searched for purchase on your body, coming to squeeze your hip as he collapsed over you. 

“Did I worship my saint properly?” you breathed between kisses, meeting his dark eyes. 

“Yes,” he almost laughed, his nose brushing against yours. 

“Will you stay?” He questioned, rolling off of you, onto his back. 

An arm folded under his head, his face turned to look at you. You were sitting up on your knees, your hand resting on his chest, tracing over a tattooed symbol. 

“As long as you let me,” you answered.

His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you down onto his chest, into another kiss. 

“I still have some things to teach you.”

[queridopascal]

Annie congratulations on the follower milestone, you deserve every single one and so much more. 🍾🍾🥳🥳🥳🥳🥰🥰🥰🥰

For the celebration could I please have number 47 and 50 from the fluff prompt list with Javi Gutierrez. I’ll leave the rest up to you my dear 💕

Hope that’s ok ☺️

Thank you Char, love you! 💜

I apologize in advance because I don’t know what this is! Have mercy on me!

Pairing: Javi Gutiérrez x F!Reader (“mi Solecito”)

Warning: they elope!

47. “we could run away.”

50. “this isn’t adrenaline, i want to spend my life with you.”

The spring sun is setting low in the sky, its warm colours staining the Mediterranean view with wonderful tones of pink and orange, reflecting in the ocean like a pretty watercolor painting.

A chilly breeze ruffles through the tall palm trees, signalling that dusk will soon leave space to an early blooming evening. The days have gotten longer, but still not long enough to dine outside on the terrace.

As you take in the Mallorcan horizon, your attention gets caught by the footsteps echoing right behind you, the pattern one you would be able to recognize among the biggest of crowds.

“Is everything okay, mi Solecito?” he asks as he rests one hand on your back, caressing it gently.

“Yeah,” you sigh, turning to him. The mustard yellow shirt he’s wearing really suits him, it accentuates his naturally tanned skin and brings out his brown eyes.

“You sure? You seem... pensive.” he murmurs, stepping even closer to you and resting his chin atop of your shoulder.

“I just... I wish we could be alone. You and me, and no one else. No butlers, no housekeepers. No security guards.” you confess, tilting your head to the side until your temple touches his hair.

“Mi Solecito,” he begins, turning his head up and to the side to place a sweet kiss on your cheek. “we already talked about this. It’s not safe for us to be alone, you need protection.”

“You need that, too.”

“You need it more than me. You were a complete stranger to all of this until a few months ago.”

You slowly pull away from his gentle grip, and look straight into his eyes. “Why can’t we just... leave? We could run away from all this for a few days, we could... we could do something crazy.”

Javi takes a deep breath, eyes scanning the view that extends before his eyes. “You want to elope?”

You hadn’t thought about that as your idea of “doing something crazy”, but now, the word alone excites you.

“Wait —” you stare at him as you place your hands on his chest, trying to smooth out the small creases on his shirt. “would you really consider doing that?”

He mulls over those words for a few seconds, letting them imprint into his brain. He knows that a little “escapade” will surely benefit him, too; he’s been very tense and anxious lately, always focusing on protecting you from the world he brought you in. He loves the idea of getting to spend some quality time with his better half, and he could definitely call in a few favors to make something happen.

“Yes. Yes, I would.” he declares in the end, surprised by his own admission.

You raise your eyebrows, eyes widening in disbelief. “Don’t mess with me.”

“I am not messing with you, mi Solecito. I promise.” he reassures you as he caresses your shoulders.

“You’re just saying this to make me happy. Because of what I told you five minutes ago.” you sigh, looking away. “It’s just a momentary thrill, like... an adrenaline rush.”

Javi cups your cheeks, making you look into his eyes. “This isn’t adrenaline,” he whispers as he traces your jaw. “I want to spend my life with you. And since you want us to be alone, eloping sounds great right now. ”

You let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head. “Don’t lead me on.”

“You don’t believe me?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Take my hand.”

You do as you’re told and, in an instant, he drags you down the stairs of the terrace and towards the dock, where his speedboat is moored.

“KEYS!” he shouts; confused, one of his boatmen hesitates for a few seconds before throwing him a set of keys with a red leather keychain.

Once you both reach the boat, Javi helps you get into it and positions himself behind the helm before turning on the engine.

He glances in your direction with a wide smile. “Ready, mi Solecito?”

You nod, incredulous, eyes shining with excitement.

The speedboat sprints towards the sunset, the destination unknown. But all that matters, is that you and Javi will finally get to be alone.