#he'll say no but he never means it

[icarusredwings]

Did I mention that the TARDIS is a cat robot named KITT-E made from the scraped parts of a broken K9 and one of Rosie's stuffed animals she made for them?

She made doc a stuffy and he immediately ripped its guts out and made a companion robot whos connected to the TARDIS so "She doesn't have to sleep outside alone."

Sax has a black stuffy cat that he can't remember why he adores it so much, but you'll get bit for touching it.

But the Doctor knows and thinks it's adorable.

TAG TREATS

A treat for you all before bed.

Married saxteen brushes their teeth together, changes into jammies together, tells the moon goodnight together, and does thier night time routines together.

For 14, this involves putting his hair in braids, taking a butt load of melatonin gummies, his joint vitamins, vitamin C, and E. Sometimes, he'll put on a face mask if he feels extra fancy.

No- not a sleep mask. A FACE mask. Those green ones made from avacados or something. I dont know. Rosie makes them and sometimes puts it on them too.

It's how 15s skin is so glossy.

Oh! And bunny slippers!

Sax's routine involves getting his cat plushie, stripping down to his briefs, and kids show socks, putting his bonnet and hair oils on. He's convinced he's balding, so rosie got him into silk bonnets and rosemary oils to conserve it. (He literally won't stop bleaching it :/)

I will draw this eventually but for now just use your imagination.

[bunnieswithknives]

OH MY GOD??? HAS IT SERIOUSLY BEEN A MONTH????? I am so sorry guys

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[mauvemischief]

mmm part of me thinks that Aaron would forever hold onto a little bit of childish bitterness that Andrew picked Neil.

[lavendorii]

First summer

[foxstens]

i really love how highly neil thinks of kevin as an exy player specifically

[majimasleftasscheek]

hey

based on this

[chr0n1c-ag0ny]

Kunidazai reunion sparking them finally, actually, truly getting together (cause they're idiots who have essentially been and old married couple for years and were the last to notice)? I think yes.

kunikida offering his apartment to Dazai, as his partners was in no shape to be lived in, after all the time that had passed with no upkeep and the time it spent in police custody, being milled through for any potential evidence. there was no way he could let him go back to it, not now, not tonight. Kunikida needs him close tonight.

Dazai takes him up on his offer. he doesn't want to be alone. he won't admit it, but he can't be alone, he doesn't know what it would do to him, what he would do to himself if he was left unattended. so he gratefully, while making jabs and cracking jokes at his partner, follows him home.

their night proceeds as normal, as it had for years of Dazai crashing with him. Kunikida cooks while Dazai sits up on his counter, rambling on and on about anything he can think of. Kunikida never realized how much he missed Dazai's voice until the relief of not cooking in silence hit him.

when they eat Dazai drags his partner to sit on the couch, even though Kunikida hates eating on the couch, knowing he would make an exception for him, just for tonight. they sit too close to just be friends, coworkers, partners even. their arms touch, their knees lean into one another.

when Dazai's finished with his dinner he lays a head in Kunikida's lap, turning on the TV, flipping through all of his partners recorded media until he finds the show they had been watch together, every episode that aired since he was arrested is recorded and unwatched. with blurry eyes he hits play. Kunikida's hand is in his hair and it doesn't leave.

they don't talk, they don't have to, they've talked enough. for now they just want to sit and feel each other's touch and hear each other's breathing. it's all they need.

its nearly 3 in the morning when Dazai finally starts to doze, he'd curled up into a ball, halfway in Kunikida's lap at that point, holding onto one of his partner's hands. Kunikida knows he should get them both to bed, he should offer Dazai the room and take the couch, that he should have the man some space after all he'd been through. but he aches at the thought of leaving his side, at being separated again.

but he doesn't even have to say anything, should have known he never had to, Dazai's always been sharp as a tack, his intuition, almost terrifyingly, even sharper.

His partner turned lazily in his arms, looking up at him with tired but knowing eyes. let's go to bed, they say. you don't have to go, you can stay, they assure. please don't go, they beg.

Kunikida breathes a long, heavy, sigh of relief.

"ok," he answers, before finally getting up after hours laid up on the couch, watching as Dazai continues to doze.

his heart aches with feverish heat. he'd missed him so much he had begun to go mad, had gone mad really, and now his partner was back, he was back and alive and mostly well, and now he was so relieved it ached in its own right.

he went about making up his bed for two, for Dazai, knowing he needed enough pillows and blankets for half a dozen people, but kept stopping to look over the back of the couch to make sure he was still there, still with him, that he hadn't been taken away again. by the time he's done he's probably crossed his apartment two to three dozen times, from his room to the couch again and again, before he's finally decided the room was good enough, there were enough blankets for Dazai to cover himself with and pillows to hide in.

when he goes to Dazai this time around, he kneels in front of him, carding a hand through his hair, tracing a thumb over his brow, to his nose, and then his cheek. his partner's eyes flutter open, a smile graces his lips.

"come on," he whispers, worried too loud a voice would shatter the delicate air of safety and comfort around them, "time for bed."

Dazai hums, getting up with a stretch and a yawn, much like a cat, before gingerly hopping off the couch and into Kunikida's arms, a false smile and air of cheekiness to him, hiding the ache Kunikida knew all too well resided in his partner's heart as much as it did his own, if not more. he holds him for a moment, savoring the feeling of him in his arms, before taking his hand and leading him to their room.

Dazai knows the drill. he goes to the other man's dresser and picks out a pair of his own sweatpants, ones he kept here for nights like these, and as per usual, one of Kunikida's shirts, gliding across the room, out into the hall, and into the bathroom.

Kunikida crawls into bed, feeling like he's been hit by a bus by the days events, and ends up half asleep by the time he feels Dazai crawling into bed next to him.

he expects to see bandages peeking from the borrowed nightshirt, to watch Dazai shield himself from the world, from his partner's touch, with a swarm of blankets, for Dazai to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for him to fall asleep first.

but tonight's different, so different.

Dazai's skin is bare where the shirt doesn't cover, his scars on display, each and every one of them, the burns, the cuts, the bullet wounds, the ones Kunikida has never one been able to decipher the story of. they're all bared to him, with no visible hesitation on Dazai's end.

when his partner climbs into bed he neglects the pile of blankets laid out for him, the pillows too. instead he lifts the comforter that's draped over the entirety of the bed, Kunikida included, sliding beneath it like it's natural to him, like he'd done it every night for months, years even.

he looks at Kunikida for a moment, silently asking for permission, which Kunikida cannot give fast enough, and then Dazai's in his arms, his own wrapped around his neck, nothing between them but the clothes on their backs.

Dazai pulls away, just a bit, Kunikida almost cries out, almost pulls him back in, but knows better. he lets dazai go, but he never leaves. he's moved just far back enough so they could both look each other in the face.

"I missed you," he spoke softly, his hands shifting to hold the blonde's face.

"I missed you too,"

there's a moment of silence.

"I love you." the words are hesitant, skittish even, like he's unsure of how Kunikida would take it.

"I love you too," he replies without a second thought. he loves his partner, he loves him, more than he knows what to do with, so much it drives him mad and makes him ache.

Dazai nods. he's thinking, Kunikida can see it on his face, his mind is going a million miles a second. worry flashes on Dazai's face, and Kunikida panics, goes to pull away, goes to give Dazai space, even if his own skin burns at the thought of parting with Dazai's.

but Dazai doesn't let him, he clings to him, "Don't go, please don't go, please," he begs.

his voice is desperate, so Kunikida doesn't. he watches his partners face twist and turn, watches as fear spreads across his brow and tears gather in his eyes, and he doesn't know what to do because this has never happened.

but than Dazai leans in, slowly, tugging Kunikida closer so they can meet in the middle. Kunikida feels his partners lips on his. he kisses him back. he can't decide if that was a foolish decision or not. It's soft, softer than either of them knew they were capable of, it's gentle and earnest and good.

Dazai stops after a moment, lingers in Kunikida's space before looking him in the eye once more, he doesn't speak, they don't need to. Dazai looks at him, tears running down his face, but he's smiling, he's ok. his thumbs wipe away tears Kunikida hadn't realized he'd shed. they're ok.

"I love you," Dazai mutter's again, speaking again before the other man can answer "Kunikida?"

"yes, Dazai?"

"don't go."

"I won't."

"promise?"

"I promise." its a foolish thing to say, but Dazai needs to hear it, hell, he needs to hear it, "I'm not going anywhere, so long as you promise me the same."

he hesitates, his eyes avoid Kunikida's for a moment, before returning from their shared gaze, "I'll try, I promise, I'll really try this time"

Kunikida nods, slowly moving to kiss Dazai's forehead, the brunette leans into it.

"I know you will," he whispers into Dazai's skin, "and I'll always be here when it's too hard to manage on your own."

there's silence again, but it doesn't feel wrong or heavy, its soft and warm and it feels right.

"I love you," Kunikida finally returns.

there's more silence, Dazai just looks at him, just watches, fingers playing with Kunikida's hair and drifting over his face until something clicks into place in the other man's mind, something nobody but Dazai could ever understand.

he leans in once more to kiss his cheek before he settles against Kunikida's chest, letting out a pleased huff as he curls himself into a ball, "goodnight," he muttered, almost instantly going still with sleep.

"goodnight," Kunikida replied, knowing Dazai wasn't going to hear him, pressing his own goodnight kiss to the top of Dazai's head before burying his face in the other man's hair (Dazai doesn't smell like his shampoo anymore. it makes something in him cringe. he tries and fails to ignore it).

it takes Kunikida a while to fall asleep, he's too busy running the night over and over and over again in his mind. he holds Dazai close and lets his fingers trace over scars, feeling over his too-thin frame, feeling each bone beneath his skin. there's so many thoughts rushing through his mind, to many fears, worries, anxieties, what ifs. what if I hurt him? what if I break him? what if I ruin this?

his thoughts are only stopped when Dazai gently nudges his head into his jaw, hands pulling Kunikida's off of him, holding them gently in his own (he should have known sleep wouldn't come that easy to Dazai).

he takes a deep breath, steadying himself and his mind, his partner's hands squeeze his gently, good, they seem to say, and sleep finally starts to pull at him once more.

he lets it happen, let's his eyes close and his mind go blank, knowing Dazai is safe, he's safe in his arms, he won't be taken away again. he sleeps knowing Dazai loves him, that he kissed him, that tomorrow they'll wake up like this, and maybe, just fucking maybe they can finally have this one happy ending.

[july-19th-club]

first time i watched 'no exit' i was 100% in jo's corner like oh great it's sexist dean time . wheeee let's all watch her learn a lesson about hunting and he can be 'right' in a factual way but he'll be as obnoxious as possible about it the whole time . now i think what's happening here is that he has pretty much instantly samzoned her, as a college dropout from a hunting family who has a contentious relationship with her one surviving parent. EXCEPT that she's a five-foot-something twiggy barely-out-of-her-teens woman who has a crush on him and has never been on a serious hunt before, and he's dismissive/over-vigilant enough with the actual sam, a powerfully-built man with clairvoyant powers and over a decade of experience. bearing that in mind, his behavior towards jo is barely outside his normal realm of bossy and overbearing, and since he knows a little something about how sams will respond to direct orders, he still tells her mother she's not on the hunt with them so as to avoid the fallout until it's over. basically i think the whole dean thing, his most consistent characterization over the course of fifteen years, is his tendency to express even genuine protectiveness through the medium of 'bossy older sibling', and this makes him come off like the worst person on the planet. he frequently IS, but it's actually because of other things and has nothing to do with that habit in specific

[the-acid-pear]

Y'know I really feel like Harry and Dave's relationship goes highly unexplored which is a shame because there IS quite a bit to explore, ESPECIALLY if you care about shipping. But as the game stands I mean, they must be aware of each other. Harry in fact definitely knows about Dave. I don't think he'd tell the fucking weird rotten bunny his terrible boss brought in IS the number one threat against Freddy's since day 1 but even so. Dave I don't think would see Harry as much more than A Phoney™ though, which is always more of an obstacle and way less of a person. Which is usually opposite of how Jack sees his often sole employee. Like, you get what I mean? It's almost similar to 2 with the main opposing routes being Peter and Dave except the stakes are arguably way lower now.

[uncanny-tranny]

Person whose gender was directed by Todd Howard and published by Bethesda

[slaviclore]

be like chopin, measure your body weight in number of cats your body could house if it were made of clay and used to build cat houses

"Moja glina teraz na ten deszcz się nie rozpuści, we środku jest 90 stop. Réaumura. Można – ach! nie, nie można – z mojej gliny chyba domek dla kotki zrobić."

-- Fryderyk Chopin, in a letter to Jan Matuszyński (November 24, 1830)

"In these rains, my clay will not dissolve since it's 90 degrees Réaumur* inside. It would be possible -- ah! no, it would not be possible -- to make maybe a little house for a cat from my clay."

*a temperature scale in which water boils at 80

[aq2003]

i'm actually still somehow mad sorry last post i promise i swear but the 50th pulled a version of ten from the gap between waters of mars and the end of time and this is SUCH good material SUCH a good time and place to explore how his delusional "they're all gone and i can do anything, i can save everyone" mindset from timelord victorious is like this paper-thin coping mechanism for his overwhelming guilt and loss you have BILLIE PIPER in this special you can explore what rose will represent and how she'll impact the doctor and how he has an all-too-human love that destroys him bc of her and how ALLLL of this leads back to the timewar which is something ten thought he could come to terms with but never did . NO. elizabeth the first marriage. i hate it here

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

'...you know jokes like those actually hurt me, right?'

"who said I was joking?"

.

.

.

'oh.'

[pettyprocrastination]

Soap is the guy you get into a meaningless fling with. just fun sex and no feelings attached but then you of COURSE get feelings cause he’s so sweet and funny and will bring you dinner which inevitably leads to a teary eyed conversation where you tell him this can’t keep happening and he’ll say he understands and pulls you in to a big hug before saying goodbye but then anytime he’s on leave his ass is calling you up all over again

[inamagicalhallucination]

i dont get when ppl say "atsushi would be horrified" at something thats probably just another tuesday for him

[asterdeer]

just finished the 2nd coldfire book and gerald tarrant's relationship with dignity is so interesting to me. from jump we have this man whose well-groomed, immaculate appearance damien's narration cannot stop harping on about. tarrant is the picture of dignity: cool, quiet, obsessed with cleanliness. in when true night falls and he almost blows himself up and needs damien to bury him in a hole like a flower bulb just to survive the morning, one of the first things gerald does after emerging is magicking the dirt and blood off his body and hair. it's not a preference at that point, it's a compulsion, it's an emotional necessity.

and yet gerald's approach to immortality renders him so vulnerable in just one very particular way, and in both book 1 and 2 his enemies exploit that vulnerability to such a degree that gerald is rendered little better than a rag doll. it's a one-hit almost-kill kind of vulnerability; he doesn't even have a chance to fight back. and because he is what he is, he can still survive for a long time: burned, disfigured, in agony, weakened, but "alive." in book 1, damien & co find him basically jesus-on-a-cross'd in the middle of blinding light, burned so badly that his body is barely holding together; in book 2, after he gets one-shot, the bad guys strip him almost naked and leave him pinned to the floor to wait for sunrise to finish the job. and he SURVIVES this shit. and, in book 2, in the next scene where he's conscious: put together, calm, imminently in control of himself once again.

it just gets me, this need for some sense of dignity specifically because of his power, or rather its one (1) weakness. he doesn't wear armor, he's ridiculously, stupidly dangerous and powerful, but he's got an achilles heel that can, in a matter of seconds, in the face of power great enough, put him flat on his face and suffering unimaginable pain for possibly days at a time, at the tender mercies of whoever wants him powerless, and so he still needs to project control. not a speck of dirt on his clothes, not a tangle in his hair, not a hitch of emotion in his voice. he's old enough, powerful enough, that he shouldn't need to present himself this way. and yet.