#i have asked all of them and none of them had those ''hide from results'' things turned on. they werent marked sensitive. etc etc

[risingsunresistance]

i wish shadowbanning wasnt an actual thing that randomly happens here bc i cant see the reblogs on my webfishing post, what if they left silly tags :(

[gilverrwrites]

If that ask was too long and elaborate, I have another one!

What about a fic with Batman, where the reader finds out she’s pregnant and doesn’t know how to tell Bruce since he already has mature/ teenager kids and she doesn’t know if he wants to raise one from the infant stage to adulthood.

She kinda overthinks about it and distance herself from Bruce. He notice it and when she would confess, to her surprise, Bruce would get super exited!

What I don't understand

AN: I'm back baby! At least partly, my hand is still on and off achy so I won't we posting as activiely as I have previously. I've done so much research on pregnancy that all my adds are now of pregancy tests, fertilitie test, baby stuff, I'm worried my bf might start to suspect that I'm pregnant which would be akward Bruce Wayne/F!Reader, 3.9K words CW: Husband/Wife dynamic, pregnancy, feet (none sexual), mentions of vomit, body dysmorphia, lying/sneaking around, prenatal anxiety/depression, martial problems, swearing. Fluffy ending tho!

Pregnancy brain is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. Or maybe that's insanity, who knows? You ponder the thought as you fidget with the flimsy cardboard packaging of the pregnancy test you're awaiting the results of as if you don't know the answer. You'd already taken countless tests, trialling different brands in the hopes of a different outcome but every single one of them had confirmed your situation with variations on lines and plus signs. They'd never offered you a negative, and yet you keep trying.

There was no denying it, and pretty soon there would be no hiding. You were fast approaching the end of your first trimester at 9 weeks but had only found out about a month ago. The task of informing Bruce while there was still time to act seems to grow bigger and scarier with each passing day. Not to mention; it's becoming increasingly obvious that he already suspected something is wrong.

3 weeks ago:

The cold tile against your aching feet felt like ecstasy. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and lean against the wall, relishing in every second of release as you awaited Jason’s return.

You’d spend hours hiding your pain, precariously balancing in a pair of heels as you kept up appearances during a charity event being held at the manor. Bruce was currently being cornered by a visiting dignitary, and as bad as you felt leaving him alone, it might have been your only chance. You’d slipped away to an off-limits hallway, grasping Jason’s who had drawn the short straw for event appearances along the way. Once out of view to your guests you’d begged him to retrieve a pair of pumps from your bedroom, the petty prospect of keeping it secret from, and thus getting a one-up on his adoptive father being the primary motivator. That and he owed you, a lot, for defusing many situations in which he and your husband had butt heads.

The weight of your discarded shoes hung heavily from your fingers, you hadn’t realised how weighty they were. A shame, because they were so pretty. They were a gift from Bruce, strappy and bedazzled, the perfect colour to match your dress. Another pair for your ever-expanding collection, he’d always favoured gifting you shoes and purses, and you certainly didn’t mind, at least not until your ankles had begun swelling at the mere notion of being used for their primary function.

“Are you okay? You seem off.” Jason’s voice returning to the hall made you jump out of your stupor, and he watched with concern as you tucked your heels behind a curtain and slipped into the flats he’d brought you.

“Fine, fine.” You smile, patting his arm with a reassuring smile. “Just didn’t wear those in properly and now I’m paying the price.”

“Right.” He still seemed dubious and was about to say something else when a door creeks open, redirecting both of your attention.

Bruce stood in the doorway, stern, arms crossed. He glares at the both of you, he and Jason have a very similar glare. His eyes focus in on you, identifying you as the main culprit, his gaze roves across your form, lingering on your feet for an uncomfortably long time before speaking.

“If I have to suffer through this, so do the two of you.” He points behind him. “In.”

Jason’s face is obscured as he takes the lead, but Bruce must not like his expression because his frown seems to deepen.

You followed close behind, careful not to step on the hem of your dress now that you lack the additional six inches the heels had offered but your integration back into the crowd is halted. Bruce traced his hand along your back, cupping the curve of your waist and directing you to a lesser populated spot amongst the outskirts of your visitants.

The stony look on his face was gone, replaced with a polite smile for the crowd and softer eyes for you.

“What happened to your shoes?” His voice was low, in-perceivable to anyone but yourself.

“My feet were sore is all.” It’s not a lie.

“Too sore for dancing?” He asks, voice as slick as silk and you don’t want to agree but yes, they are too sore dancing. Not to mention you’d gotten nauseous from standing up too quickly only hours earlier but damn if you didn’t want to dance with your husband. Want to feel his chest against yours, his hands on your curves, admire the smile on his face. There are few things you enjoy more than any form of intimacy with Bruce.

“Maybe later.” You sighed, “I think I need to sit down for a while.”

2 weeks ago:

‘Breast changes are another very early sign of pregnancy. Your hormone levels rapidly change after the egg is fertilized. Because of these changes, your breasts may become swollen, sore, or tingly.’

You groaned aloud, rereading the entry on WebMD once more. You hadn’t expected your breasts to change so early on, incorrectly assuming any swelling or pain would be a result of breast milk, but you were wrong.

Believing you had the house to yourself, you figure now was as good a time as any to read up on more early pregnancy symptoms, to correct any other misconception you might have. You were midway through reading about progesterone and how it causes constipation when your laptop pinged.

A notification popped up in the corner of the screen, a DM from UserDC27, Bruce’s bat-server codename. You click to open the message and audibly gasp when a screenshot of your browsing history greets you, framed in red with its own ‘suspicious activity’ notification in the corner.

‘Pregnancy trimesters in weeks’ ‘Swollen breasts pregnant’ ‘Early pregnancy symptoms’

Amongst all the suspicious browsing habits of this family, of course yours had flagged up! Fucking ridiculous!

UserDC27: ? UserRI01: For a friend UserRI01: dw UserRI01: Love you x UserDC27: is typing… UserRI01: has signed out.

1 weeks ago:

“Good morning.” A familiar voice greeted you, strong hands slink around your body, brushing against your back and hips before settling on your stomach. What should have been a sweet moment frightened you, disturbing you from your train of thought and causing you to almost spill your morning decaf coffee.

“Woah there.” Bruce laughed, the warmth and proximity of him soothing you quickly. He effortlessly took the mug from your hands and settled it on the kitchen island so he could pull you closer without spillage.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, turning your head to rest it against his chest. The strength of his cologne is always so much stronger in the mornings, the scent of the man you love, of citrus and woodsiness does wonders to comfort your frantic brain no matter the time or place. “Just lost in thought.”

After a second you realise your mistake, you’ve allowed him an opening to ask what you’re thinking about and that exact moment certainly did not feel like the right time, what with Damian in the next room. You should be alone, completely alone.

He surprises you however, always one for keeping everyone on their toes, by spinning you around to face him and telling you, “I don’t think that’s it.”

“What do you think it is?” You tried to keep your voice airy, relaxed, unsuspicious but even you can hear the guilt in your tone.

“I think you’re tired.” He watches you with a playful glint in his eye, but the next words out of his mouth are accusatory no matter how light his tone is. “Where are you sneaking off to in the mornings, oh wife of mine?”

“W-what?” You heard him fine, you were stalling while you calculated a response. You had been sneaking off in the mornings and the fact that he’s asking so playfully, as opposed to interrogating which he is not unknown to do even with you, means he knows more than he’s letting on.

Bruce isn’t exactly an early riser, often too tired from long nights of crime fighting and case filing, but he is a light sleeper. Always on alert. He’d already caught you in a bought of morning sickness once. Roused by the unpleasant noises you’d been making. You’d lied about it, citing an upset tummy from something you’d eaten. You weren’t sure which was worse, the vomiting, the sombre expression he’d given you as he approached to rub your back throughout, or the look of horror on Alfred’s face when Bruce had brought up your supposed food poisoning later that day.

Ever since you’d purposely been rising early and sneaking off to dispel any nausea in one of the many guest bedrooms.

“Nowhere, I’m just becoming more of a morning person I guess.”

He eyed you sceptically, and you thought you might crack under the pressure. His hands reach up to cup your face, preventing you from turning away. His touch is so gentle, so soft for a man of his stature. “You can tell me anything, you know that?”

“Of course.”

As if you couldn’t feel worse he adds; “I miss waking up to you beside me.”

“Oh Brucie-“

You’re already on your tip toes, ready to concede, to apologise, to shower your sullen husband with kisses when you’re saved by the signal. Literally, a call from Duke 'The Signal' Thomas, with a reminder of your apprehension; an active situation that needed Batman’s participation.

Your relationship, and now marriage to Bruce had always hinged on an unspoken understanding that Gotham comes first. Even with Tim taking over most of his responsibilities at Wayne Tech, Bruce simply does not have enough time to raise a baby. You can't expect him to take turns with the nighttime feeds, with the frequent nappy changes, with the constant attention an infant will need.

You’ve no doubt Alfred would delight in assisting you, he's been dropping hints about wanting a baby Brucie since the engagement, and you love him very much but if you’re to raise a baby, you want to do it with your husband, not his butler.

That’s presuming your husband even wants a child. Another child. He already has enough children to populate a small village. Children with lives of their own. Children who in some way or another have followed in his vigilante footsteps. You think of the stress and trauma each of them has faced, and how it has affected them and their father. You think of Steph and her tremulous relationships with Bruce and Arthur. Of Jason’s deaths, plural. Of Dicks ineptitude to form meaningful relationships with anyone outside of the lifestyle. Of all the childhoods so many, but especially Cass and Damian missed out on. Could you be responsible for putting another child through any of that?

Furthermore, if your child wanted to live this life, could you really stop them? Nobody stopped Tim. Nobody stopped Barbara, when Jim had tried it only caused the rift between them to grow bigger.

Could Bruce stop your unborn child? Would he want to?

Speak of the Oracle. The chime of your phone draws you out of your spiral of perinatal anxieties. It’s Barbara, informing the girls-only group chat that she’s running late for lunch. Crap. You’d completely forgotten that you’d promised the girls lunch and shopping. Barbara had some tech on hold, Steph wanted to try the new caramel cookie waffles at Goodilicious, and Cass needed new boots whether she knew it or not.

Hurriedly, you shove the used test into a previously disused makeup bag that is now full of other used tests. It's starting to smell, but you don't have time to figure out how to stealthily throw it out, so you hide it at the back of a cupboard behind a basket of sanitary products before rushing out the door.

Later

Catching up with the girls had been fun, it had really helped you forget about your predicament and just relax for a while, but it had also taken a lot out of you, keeping you out well past dinner. Your body just was not functioning as well as it used to, for obvious reasons.

Upon returning to the mansion you’d made it to the ground floor lounge, feet too sore to even consider the stairs, and collapsed on the closest couch, exerting just enough energy to pry your shoes and sock off of your swollen feet prior to falling asleep. Just a quick nap you tell yourself, to regain some energy, you’ll be right as rain in time for Damian’s bedtime. He’s old enough now to put himself to bed, especially given that he often patrols with his father until the early hours of the morning, but tonight is his night off and you’d always make the effort to wish him sweet dreams when you can.

You’re awoken by the feel of calloused fingers pressing into the arches of your feet. You hadn’t heard him enter, but Bruce is sitting on the arm of the couch, in nothing but sweatpants and slippers. Between his bare chest and cowl hair, he is a welcome sight, bruised chest and freshly cut lip and all.

“What happened to you?” You ask, voice husky from your impromptu nap. You manage to draw your eyes away from Bruce long enough to check the time on an antique wall clock, it’s 4 AM. You’d far exceeded a nap. “Where’s Damian?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle. Damian is asleep. When you didn’t wish him a goodnight he came to look for you, that’s how I knew you were here.” He asserts. He looks at you with a furrowed brow and pinched lips, working his thumb into the arch of your feet with just enough pressure to make you mewl in relief. “Are you punishing me for something?”

The question hits you like a ton of bricks, it’s not without merit. You hadn’t intended to spend the night on the couch, but you can understand how it must look to him, especially in tangent with the ways in which you had intentionally been avoiding him; sneaking out in the mornings, not allowing him to see your naked body for fear that he’ll notice your swollen breasts, and growing belly. You hadn’t had sex in at least three weeks.

All at once you are overcome with remorse. You’d been so consumed with the pregnancy and how best to approach the subject with Bruce that you hadn’t stopped to think how your actions would weigh on him. He’s so strong, your anchor, an unchanging presence for the whole family. He locks himself and his emotions behind the big bad bat or billionaire Brucie so well that sometimes he forgets he has them. Sometimes you forget. Even now, clearly hurting and concerned for his marriage, he’s rubbing your feet.

“No of course not Bruce, I’m sorry…” your mind starts to form the end of your apology ‘I was just so tired’ or ‘it’s been a long day’ and they wouldn’t be lies but they’re not the right thing to say. You can’t keep postponing for the ‘right moment’ that will never come, can’t keep chickening out. He needs to know the truth. “I’m- I’m pregnant.”

You’re not sure how you’d expected him to respond really. You’d feared anger, hoped for joy but instead, he continues to stare at you, his brows raising in a way that implied he needed more information. He swaps your left foot for your right as he awaits your resumption. When you don’t speak he nods and states; “I know.”

“You know?” As though possessed your tired body launches into an upright seated position. “How could you know?”

Bruce smiles in response, an amused, tight-lipped ‘Are you kidding?’ smile.

“Well, to name a few things;” he counts off each observation on his fingers. “You’ve stopped wearing heels because your ankles are constantly swollen, your breasts are also noticeably swollen even under your clothes, you now only drink decaf, you seemingly have ‘food poisoning’ every morning and at no other time of day, a massive increase in urination, and my personal favourite, the bag full of positive pregnancy tests behind a crate-full of menstrual products that haven’t been used in almost three months.”

He’s trying to hide it, but he’s smug about his own detective skills. His mouth might be straight but there’s a fire in his eyes that has you drawing your legs away from him with a huff, abruptly ending the massage you had been enjoying. “How long have you known?”

“I’d had my suspicions for about 6 weeks, but I wasn’t certain until I found your stash last week.” Typical of Bruce to have figured out you were pregnant before you’d known yourself. “What I don’t understand, is why you didn’t tell me. Why you’ve been lying.”

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have kept this from you. I was going to but…” You trail off,  straightening your thoughts as best you can and finding your composure, preparing to begin monologuing about your concerns. “I didn’t know how you’d feel about it, what with you know, already having so many kids. Everyone but Damian has flown the nest, Dick and Babs are married! They’re all so grown up, do you really want to start again? And then…”

Conscious of your rambling you cut yourself off, looking to Bruce for reassurance that you’re not talking too much, that he’s not offended by your worries. He consoles you by coming closer, sitting on the cushion beside you and easily coaxing your legs over his. His firm hands are gentle as they grasp your knee.

“And what?” He questions.

“I wasn’t sure how I feel, I wanted to figure that out before talking to you.”

“What do you think you feel about it?”

“I think I want to have your baby Bruce, our baby.” So caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed your husband’s hands creeping higher and higher up your body until a hand settles on your stomach, his thumb stroking you through the fabric of your shirt. You’d been so self-conscious of its growth but as you look at it now, under Bruce’s sturdy fingers, you realise it isn’t much bigger than it had been pre-pregnancy. How tedious your problems seemed when voiced and put into perspective, except maybe one. “I’m just not sure about how… well I guess I never thought about raising a child within your lifestyle.”

“I understand.” He nods, confirming his statement. He’s done well to keep his face soft but neutral throughout, a staple of his Batman facade but also a careful way not to let his own emotions interfere with yours.

“What do you think?” He looks down at your abdomen as he considers his words. You follow his gaze, watching as his fingers lift your top, exposing your skin to him. Without warning he lowers himself to pepper your belly with gentle kisses, the ticklish motion causes you to giggle and writhe beneath him.

When he looks up at you again he’s smiling, the motion causing the scab on his lip to split and bleed. Without thought you pull yourself closer to him, using his broad shoulders as leverage. Once close enough you dab at the minor wound with your thumb soaking up the fluid as best you can and examining the cut to ensure no further damage.

Bruce watches you intently the whole time, cupping your face in his hand when you appear satisfied. The adoration in his eyes makes you feel sheepish even after everything you’ve been through together.

“I think,” his voice is low, sincere. “I couldn’t be happier to be growing our family together. I think this child, like all our children, will be lucky to have you as a mother, whatever life they choose to lead.”

The amount of pent-up tension in your body had not been apparent to you until now. Until your body noticeably lightens in response to his words. The relief of no longer sneaking around, no more fretting over how he might react has you wishing you’d done this a long time ago.

“Bruce?” You sag into his chest, breathing him in. His arms unconsciously wrap around you in response, pulling you in for a tighter embrace. “We’re having a baby.”

“Were are having a baby.” He confirms, pressing more, tender kisses to your neck, the curve of a smile apparent as his lips press to your exposed skin. "I've been waiting for this moment since the day we me. But, I think it’s time we got to bed, it’s late.”

Swift and practiced, Bruce lifts you from the couch, cradling you in the bridal position. You stretch to check the clock, 4:34 AM.

“Technically it’s early.” You jest, expecting him to punish your cheek by jolting you in the air or throwing you over his shoulder as he normally does, but instead, he chides you with an amused glare, clearly too concerned about the baby for play fighting.

“Neither of us has been to bed, it’s late.” His grip tightens on your body as he makes his way up the stairs, one steady step at a time. “And I expect my wife to be in our bed when I wake up.”

“Hmmm.” Your morning sickness has eased in the last few days, you’d only persisted in sneaking out to be safe, but he doesn’t need to know that just yet. “I’ll try, but I might be in our bathroom.”

“I can cope with that. At least then I can care for you. And we can throw out your hoard.” You don’t fuss over the likelihood of him having to rush off to save the day or for an urgent board meeting, you just throw your head back, laughing at yourself for trying to hide anything from Bruce.

When you reach the bedroom he lays you in the bed and climbs over your form. He’s in full caretaker mode, a manner you could get used to. He carefully removes your clothes, offers to redress you in your sleepwear and to bring you your lotions, or anything you should need from the bathroom.

Dawn is breaking behind your blackout curtains by the time you’re both settled in bed, entangled in each other’s arms. Sleep has nearly taken you again when Bruce whispers; “I do have one other thought.”

“Oh?" You peer at him curiously over your shoulder. "Yes dear?”

“I think you should be the one to tell Damian.”

His request hangs heavy in the air as you consider the implication. “Tell Damian that he will no longer be your only blood child?”

The room remains silent, he doesn’t expand because you know what he’s getting at. Damian probably won’t mind, because he’ll still be the oldest, the first in line and you’re certain he’ll be a wonderful older brother, he’s great with animals, so why not babies? Right?

“… That's not fair.”

“Think of it as penance for lying to me all month.” There’s an air of humour in his voice as he pulls you closer still, squeezing himself into your back and planting sleepy kisses against your neck. “Besides, he’ll probably take it better from you. I think he likes you more.”

[dunmeshistash]

G'day, I hope you are doing well.

Ever since I finished the story of Dungeon Meshi (all supplementary material included) I've been writing down bullet points on characters in addition to in-depth synopses as a way to tidy up my rather busy mind. To this end I've also greatly enjoyed reading other folks' interpretations of particular characters, as it gives me further insight into aspects of that character I may have glossed over.

However, there's one character I'm struggling to write a cohesive synopsis about, that being none other than 'miss enigma' herself, Falin Touden. I get that her whole shtick is that she's kind of a mystery, but I find myself drawing a lot of blanks when it comes to her as a character, and while I have nailed down some important bullet points, there are a lot of different interpretations on her, all of which starkly contrast one another. Though perhaps it's just the wording. Hard to say.

It could very well be that I'm being too dense i.e. perceiving "Falin is willing to risk killing others to save her friends." and "Falin, in the heat of the moment, when faced with certain death, was willing to face the prospect of harming potential passersby in a final Hail Mary to get her friends to safety." as entirely different observations. I have a hard time with those kinds of things.

With this being a hub for all sorts of observations, interpretations and cool trivia, I was wondering if you'd perhaps be willing to share how you yourself perceive Falin as a character, so I can compare notes and perhaps gain a more proper understanding of her as a character as a result. I know this question is very broad and kind of vague, but if you could spare the time I'd be most grateful.

Other than that, I wish you an excellent day.

Hello!!! I love Falin!!!!!

She *is* a mystery, we mostly know Falin through the perception other characters have of her instead of a direct deep look onto who she is, which I find very interesting. I think the best post I've seen about her (which as usual I can't remember where edit: someone linked it thank uu) I think called her perceived altruism/love "selfish" and I've been thinking about that ever since.

In that sense the way she cares so much about the comfort of people around her might be a way to keep *her own* comfort because she doesn't want to see other people suffer.

This girly died and came back to life from bones and the first thoughts she has is that she caused trouble for her loved ones

She probably has felt this way since she was a child, "because of her" that her family was torn apart "because of her" that Laios left, her mom was sick, her father had to send her away. (wasn't actually her fault but she might think it is)

I imagine ever since then Falin has done her best to not cause trouble and to make the people she loves happy, everything we know about her and the things she was doing was always for the people she loved, that's why I enjoy the post canon comic where Toshiro asks her hand in marriage again so much. The first time she considers accepting just because "might as well" while for the second time she finally wants to live for herself.

I think Falin herself has lost who she "really is" by trying to accommodate everyone around her and that's probably part of why we ourselves don't really know her, so much so that the most cynical character is uncomfortable around her (probably cause he notices Falin is "hiding" something)

I think Falin is quite the melancholic character to be honest, someone who has lost herself in self sacrifice and who is only now learning how to live for herself doing what she wants.

Both the teleportation scene and the bit about healing show "cracks" in the selfless front she puts out tbh. By context I don't think what she did was only due to "desperation of the moment" she says out loud "Even if I end up hurting others I want you and my brother to live on". She weighted out how much suffering she might cause and decided she wanted to save them anyway, and I'm sure in that calculation she knew that they would suffer because of her sacrifice too.

Falin is saving them for herself, I'm not great with words so this is all over the place and maybe sounds a little negative about Falin but the thing is, you cannot live your life for other people, you can't sacrifice yourself for other people's happiness, you shouldn't erase your own presence so others are happier and I think Falin is starting to learn that by the end.

I'd probably keep rambling without getting anywhere and missing a lot of more meaningful moments but I'll stop here, if anyone has recs for Falin analysis please share!

[xclowniex]

I truly think that the majority of goyim simply do not know what it has been like for jews in the diaspora since Oct 7th.

When the news first broke, I did not know how far hamas had gotten into Israel, my family in Israel was on a trip somewhere in Israel too and I had no clue where they had gone for a holiday. Whilst I knew they did not live anywhere near the Gaza border, I had zero idea where they were when it was happening. I had zero clue if they were alive or dead. I was stuck in limbo watching all the reports.

Then on Monday, I had to go into work like nothing fucking happened, like I didn't just spend the weekend worrying if they were dead or alive.

When I came into work, my manager who had heard the news who knows I have family in Israel asked me what had happened. I was still processing the news myself. All I told her was that there was an attack on Israeli civilians and she said that she hoped my family was safe.

In the coming days I saw all the protests, all the protests BEFORE Israel had even retaliated. I saw the antisemitic protest in Australia where people were chanting "gas the jews" and thinking "oh my fucking God, Australian culture is similar to New Zealand culture, is a similar protest going to happen here?" I spend so long worried that something like that would happen where I lived. I planned what I would do if I got caught near one, picturing all the common places people protest and planning my escape routes. Thankfully nothing on that scale happened. I was lucky.

None of my friends at the time asked me if my family was safe, but they all posted about Palestine. Keep in mind that all bar one knew I have family in Israel as I've spoken about it multiple times.

I watched support keep coming and coming for palestine when Israel hadn't even retaliated yet, and no support for the Israeli lives lost. I pushed my feelings aside, giving people the benefit of the doubt, maybe just maybe they didn't know the extent of Oct 7th that was released at that time.

After Israel retaliated, I ended up unfollowing so many content creators online because they refused to talk Oct 7th and only talked about Palestine. Were my family just chopped fucking liver to them???? Did my anxiety that I felt about their safety just not matter? Did all Israelis dying not matter to them?

I went to my first Halloween party. It was fun and I enjoyed myself for the most part, but on the way there I kept worrying that someone was going to say something antisemitic, that someone was going to bring up the war and dehumanize Israelis, dehumanize my family. I spent the whole evening on edge, worrying that it would happen. As a result, to calm my nerves I ended up getting super fucked up. It did not work and I overdid the alcohol and weed and I just felt terrible. The next day I felt immense guilt. How could I party? How could I dance when those at Nova were killed when they were dancing?

Then the antisemitism started online. I watched antisemitic tropes just start flying around social media. It's what made me start posting about the war and antisemitism online. My blog turned from clown posts, my special interest, to a space where I could get my feelings off my chest.

Then the antisemitism started in real life. Whenever I wore my magen david, I would get called slurs. I had to start avoiding certain parts of town because of it.

I also felt highly isolated at work. I didn't know who I could speak to about what I was going through. My office is made up of mainly leftists. No one really spoke about the war at work, which in a way made it worse. I didn't know who was normal about jews and Israelis and who weren't.

The harassment got so bad that my partner at the time was begging me to stop wearing or at least hide my magen david as he was afraid that I would be physically attacked.

There were times which I hid it, and I still experienced antisemitism because I have a very jewish nose.

I experienced this for MONTHS.

At one point in time, I tried venting to my friends at the time about the antisemitism I was facing. One of them said that they hadn't seen any antisemitism so they didn't know what I was talking about. I called what they said weird, and they started on this whole tirade that I'm only calling them antisemitic because they're arab. I think this was in November. I looked at their blog and found posts denying oct 7th, saying it didn't happen. I took screenshots in case i needed them in the future. Oh the foreshadowing.

About two months ago, a new person was invited to the friend group discord server. This new person made some pro hamas comments and said they were a resistance group. I explained with proof that Hamas has said that they wanted to kill jews. This was the start of a downfall of my friendship with my ex friends.

2 weeks after that, one of my ex friend vents about the war, and in their vent they dehumanized Israelis. I decided to check all my friends social media posts. I found post after post after post with blood libel, oct 7th denial, antisemitic tropes, dehumanization of Israelis and jews, and posts in support of groups which want jews dead, such as the houthi which have "curse to jews" in their slogan. That new person added to the discord server literally sent a few messages explicitly saying that they support the houthi.

I take a few days to process things and decide enough is enough, and that I need to unfriend them all. I email my local synagogue and get accepted to join after being screened by them to verify that I was in fact jewish and not some antisemite wanting to harm the congregation. I end my friendship with my ex friends with an essay of a message stating what they said, why it was antisemitic and that I do not feel comfortable or safe being friends with them anymore.

Two of them reached out to me to try to fix things. One hasn't really done much, she only didn't ask if my family was safe after Oct 7th + never called out any antisemitism the friend group did. However our friendship could not be repaired as her boyfriend was one of the worse perpetrators of antisemitism.

The other one who reached out supported groups who had tied to Hamas. I asked them to no longer support SJP, and they refused with the excuse of "I already avoid so many activist groups because of white supremacy, it's too hard to avoid SJP. I had to bite my tongue. I wanted to scream at them "why the actual fuck are you attracted to so many groups who engage in white supremacy that you need to actively avoid them? How hard is it to avoid one more! Write a fucking list if you need help remembering!" But I didn't say any of that, I just told them that if that's their choice then we can no longer be friends anymore and I blocked them.

Going to synagogue was amazing. I felt so welcomed and have made some new friends. Reconnecting with my jewishness after not going to synagogue for years was good. It was exactly what I needed. However, it was the cause of the end of my relationship with my ex.

He had his parents force his culture on him since he was a child and hated every second of it. When he immigrated here, he assimilated and wanted nothing to do with the culture from the country he was born in. Whilst he was fine with me participating in jewish culture, he didn't want it brought into the relationship at all. He was fine eating jewish food if i cooked it, but he didn't want to learn about jewish culture or do anything regarding it. I wasn't expecting him to convert, all I wanted was for him to learn the basics about jewish culture, maybe surprise me with some recipies from my childhood like I've done with sri lankan recipies from his childhood when he told me that he's craving them, attend jewish markets when they happen. I did not at all expect him to convert or to become immersed in jewish culture, I just wanted him to make an effort to support my jewishness.

We were looking at marriage and children in the next few years and were discussing how to raise them. I wanted them to learn about their jewish culture as children and it would be up to them if they participated in it or not as they got older. He didn't want that at all. He viewed it as them being "indoctrinated" into judaism. I told him that I feel like he just wants to date some white girl who has a default culture of our country and that I could never be that, I would never throw away my jewishness to be that. And he agreed that he did want someone who just had the default culture of our country. So we broke up. To be fair, I had been thinking about breaking up for months due to other issues, but that was the one which made me go "this relationship cannot be fixed, it has to end or I will be unhappy forever".

On its own, it doesn't seem too bad, but after going through so much antisemitism, the one person who is support to support me, who is suppose to love me, couldn't do that as long as I was actively jewish and participating in jewish culture.

And that's not even a complete list of everything I have gone through since Oct 7th. And I can't make this post without mentioning the amazing jews in my phone, who have been there for me since the start. You have made this hellscape bearable.

Like I said, goyim don't know what it has been like for jews since Oct 7th

[heartfullofleeches]

[Request] Reader caring for a sick Remmy [Dollmaker Yan Oc]

Warnings: None.

Words: 1.1k

-

“Remmy isn't home right now…. Please come back later.”

Could this day get any worse?... Weeks, months even, building up the courage to ask you to hang out with him. It wasn't like he asked you out on a date or anything, not yet anyway. He still needed to test the water a little longer, make sure the signals he had picked up from you weren't figments of his imagination. All that time, all those embarrassing hours spent in front of the mirror practicing what to say given any outcome - flushed down the drain in one night. 

Remmy could hardly open his eyes the morning you were intended to meet. You didn't even recognize him over the phone at first. In his heightened state of delirium from the fever racking his weary mind, he hoped the same would happen as you continuously rang his doorbell - demanding in the softest voice you could manage for him to open up.

As if he could be that lucky….

“And where, pray tell, would someone hacking up a lung over the phonean hour ago be right besides the hospital? It's not that far away. I can head over right now and check.” 

….

“Open this door right now, Remiel. You're not going to flake on me twice today.”

Did you have to phrase it like that? Kicking a sick person while he could barely stand was cruel - even if you did come to check up on him. 

“O…okay…. Remmy is- I'm going to unlock the door, just…give me a minute to clean up my room. I have some stuff out I really don't want anyone to see…”

The muffled shuffling of plastic splices between the click of the lock as Remmy unlocks the front door. 

“60.”

“Crap.” 

Hobbling away from the front door, Remmy clings to the hallway walls as he makes a break for his bedroom. The straight path twists and bends as his stress levels skyrocket from the very real fear of you finding out what he had stored. There wasn't enough time for him to hide everything. His top priority were the worst offenders - items he couldn't excuse as being a result of his relatively harmless hobby. Doll clothing fashioned after clothes you'd yet to wear for the public eye. Others you never owned and probably would never wear, unless they were for a partner or to make yourself feel good. Pictures of you hung up on his walls. So much to bury in such little time. 

“They can't see that…That one either. God, they'd kill me if they saw-”

“Saw what?” 

A hoarse yelp claws its way out of Remmy's aching throat. Standing in his doorway, you balance two separate bags in your arms - awaiting his response. Remmy hurriedly pulls the corners of his blankets over the space beneath his bed. 

“I…threw up a bit ago. Guess I'm feeling worse than I thought when we spoke over the phone.” 

In the blink of an eye you're by his side. Remmy flinches as you press the back of your palm against his forehead.

“Oh, Rem….” Concern oozes from your words as you set your bags down, taking hold of his arm. You're burning up. Come on. Let's get you back in bed.”

“You don't have to go through all this for me, Y/n. Really, I'm-” His sentence falls short as you scoop him off the floor, sitting him up on his bed. Were you always this strong - or had he always been this easy to carry? In that moment, Remmy felt just like one of his dolls. His head spins at the very thought. You take the opportunity to gently ease him down against the mattress, rolling the discarded sheets up to his waist. You pick up the plastic bags, setting them on the small table in the center of his room as you rummage through them.

“Got some chicken soup from this dinner down the street. If you can't keep anything down, maybe the broth will be a good place to state. Oh!- picked up some ginger ale too. That might help with your stomach too. Cough drops, cough medicine…. Do you prefer liquid or pills?” 

Remmy turns his head away from you as he coughs into his fist. “...whichever…whichever you brought is fine.”

“Well,I actually bought both, but I can just return the other on my way home later. I'll go grab you a cup real quick.”

Heading for the door, Remmy’s meek voice calls out to you - barely about a whisper. “Y/n?”

Hand on the doorframe, you gaze over your shoulder at him. “What's up? Need something else while I'm in the kitchen?”

“No…” Remmy shakes his head, the pressure of a headache hammering at his skull. “Agh… Remmy… I just wanted to thank you…for this. You really didn't have to come over…” 

A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. “Don't think I did this for nothing. Gotta make sure you're well enough for our date next weekend. The park is nice and all, but that's where we always go. I expect to be taken somewhere else for our first date.”

“Date?” He couldn't have heard you right. But, you said it - twice. You disappear down the hall before he can properly question you. Was this all a dream? The conjurings of his ill mind as the sickness took hold? This felt better than anything he could imagine- Your hushed voice as you reenter the room confirms it. You wiggle your arm behind his head, helping him sit back up just enough to place the cup to his lips without him choking while swallowing. A part of him wished this was a dream. One that he'd never wake up from if he had the choice. Another dream come true was waiting for him once he got better.

“Remmy?...Rem?”

Soda spills onto your hand as the weight of his head crashes upon your shoulder. Did he…. fall asleep? Just like that? You hadn't even given him his medicine yet. At least the sleep will be good for him. You should probably go put everything else you brought up to pass the time until he wakes up. 

“Mmm…”

Remmy’s face scrunches in discomfort as you part from his side, lowering his head onto the pillows as you stand. Your foot touches something soft beneath his bed. You reach a hand underneath - completely forgetting about his earlier warnings as your fingers wrap around the squishy item. A doll with instantly identifying features stares back up at you as you drag it from its prison. Funny - you don't remember wearing this shirt around Remmy. You only bought it a few days ago. You planned to wear it today before he told you the bad news.

Shrugging, you raise Remmy's arm - tucking the doll against his chest. His face melts into that of peaceful bliss, body curling around the doll as his other hand strokes its face as if on auto-pilot. You press a kiss to his forehead - shutting off the lights in his room as you depart for a second time.

[cherrychilli]

18+

Steve Harrington x AFAB reader, grumpy dom! Steve, established relationship, PIV sex, car sex

A/N: I haven't written for Steve in a minute so I pulled this out of the wip vault and dusted it off.

The time to back out had passed.

Steve knew he couldn't disappoint the whole group now when it had already been decided that he would drive them out to the lake that Saturday afternoon. With Eddie's license suspended and Jonathan's car in the shop, there was no other option.

For someone who, on a regular day, looks golden in every possible way under a perfect cerulean sky, he stuck out like a storm cloud today.

Steve sat out on the dock with his shades on to shield his annoyed squint and a soda pressed to his lips to conceal his scowl, wishing it was a beer instead.

Those of you who weren't driving picked frosty bottles out of the cooler Eddie had stocked for the outing, bottle caps coming loose with a pop, the nutty aroma of grain and barley fizzing into the wind. It was more than a little amusing to you as you eyed Steve from over your beer, watching the poor boy stew.

On the surface you appear oblivious but you're well aware that your boyfriend's eyes are trained on you too, a heated, razor sharp stare behind those reflective lenses.

His simmering displeasure goes unnoticed by the rest of the group but when you start to strip down to your swimsuit with the others and head for the water it's only a matter of moments before they notice one less member wading in the water with them.

Inevitably, what he'd been dreading begins and he has to deal with it all day. Everyone takes turns asking Steve why he isn't getting in the water with them and each time he's forced to mutter out some vague excuse that only lifts more eyebrows.

It's obvious to everyone that he's hiding something and the stubborn way he tries to refute is comically adorable. Some lighthearted teasing ensues and you can almost see the steam rising off his skin.

Robin gets the ball rolling with a quip about him spending too much time on his hair to risk getting it wet. Eddie joins in on the teasing too. Nancy and Jonathan are too polite to add to it but they laugh off to the side and try to suppress their giggles all the same.

None of it is cruel. it's all harmless, well meaning fun between friends and it's all the more enjoyable for you because you're the only one who knows the real reason why Steve wont just peel off his shirt and get in the water.

If he did, then your friends would get to see the result of all your hard work last night. They'd see the messy, lengthy scarlet scratches that rawed the skin all down his back, the half moon indents turning violet on his triceps and shoulders and the many hickeys like splashes of merlot you sucked onto his chest and his stomach.

You've got a few marks on you as well but you're saved from suffering the same torment as Steve thanks to your waterproof concealer. He endures it all, forcing the occasional dry, humorless laugh until the sun begins to wind down and the rest of you towel off before lugging your belongings back to his car under a cotton candy sky.

It's a little snug inside the BMW but you make it work. You buckle yourself in the front seat and the others pile into the back. Nancy finds room in Jonathan's lap while Eddie's somehow been strong armed into the middle by Robin so she can have the window seat. He doesn't concede quietly and the resultant commotion in the back is enough to distract the backseat occupants from noticing the tension between you and Steve. Well, more so the tension that's emanating from Steve because you look no more unbothered than you had all day, humming to yourself inconspicuously. Waiting patiently.

Nancy and Jonathan are the first to be dropped off. Next is Eddie, and then Robin. You wave goodbye to her as Steve slowly presses down on the accelerator to begin the journey to your apartment, twenty minutes of being alone together starting now.

"You really put me through it today", he spoke, breaking the moment long silence.

Your lips form a pleased smile as you fiddle with your fingers in your lap. It was obvious where all of this was heading but riling him up was part of the fun and you didn't want it to end just yet. You wanted a little more before it's all teeth and ripped clothes when he gets you inside your apartment.

"I didn't make them say all those things, Stevie sweetie", you turn your head towards him and bat your lashes, the illusion of sweetness thick on your features.

His eyes stay fixed on the road, the vein near his temple more noticeable now. "You wore it on purpose, didn't you?", he sidesteps your comment like you hadn't even said it at all.

This time when you blink at him it's with confusion. "Don't play dumb, baby", he warns you with a laugh so mirthless that it draws a shiver out of you. "Oh..", you utter when you realize that he's referring to your strappy yellow bikini. The one he really really liked, because he made you keep it on all throughout riding him on on his sun lounger the last time you went over to swim in his pool. Not that you did much swimming in the end.

You'd been so wrapped up in all the teasing and what hid beneath the layers of his clothes that you'd paid little attention to what you'd been wearing all day.

"Wasn't bad enough that I had to deal with the others today. You had me fighting off a fucking hard on top of it all too."

Your gaze instantly drops to his lap. By the looks of the thick imprint of his cock underneath his jeans he seemed to be done fighting it off.

The car slows into a turn and you realize that you don't recognize your surroundings, much more greenery around than what you're familiar with. You'd had your eyes off the road long enough for him to divert from the route to your house, detouring off a backroad and into an unfamiliar clearing thickly nestled by trees and forestry.

You bite down on your lip to stem the grin that threatens to erupt on your face. This was much better than you'd been hoping for and happening much faster than you could stand to wait.

Pulling into the isolated space, he cuts the engine, car going completely still. "Come here", but he's already pulling you with forceful a hand curled around the back of your neck before you have a chance of following through yourself. It's ungainly how you fumble with unbuckling your seatbelt as it presses uncomfortably against your chest but you manage to unfasten it, leaning further over the console to get closer to him.

You whine when he latches onto your neck, sucking at the skin there not at all gently. If the taste of lake water and sunscreen still lingered on your skin, he showed no sign of it. At least not any sign of disliking it as his tongue licked over your skin and his teeth dragged close to your pulse. When he pulls away you can feel the wet warmth of the fresh hickey blooming on your skin and your heart beating in time with the subtle throbbing there.

It wasn't hard to imagine what it looked like. Deep and dark and reminder of who you belong to. "You're not covering it up this time, understand?", he tells you and you nod. As if you'd want to hide it.

He leans over you then and you retract into your seat to make room for him, back pressed firmly against leather. Steve's intention becomes clear when he pulls at the lever to adjust your seat. You squeak when it reclines abruptly and he climbs over you to push it all the way down.

"Get these off. Now", he orders you, not unkind but firm, pulling at the hem of your damp t-shirt and the waistband of your shorts. He's impatient but so are you, wiggling around and maneuvering your limbs messily underneath him as he helps you to peel the clothing off.

You manage to toe you shoes off as well, elbows and knees bumping Steve and parts of the interior until you're left in just your bikini. The frantic rush suddenly halts and things slow down when he runs a finger down your sternum until he reaches the little strap just below your breasts, hooking his finger into it. " 'Played dirty all day, didn't you honey? had your fun while I all I could do was sit back and watch?", he tugged, the bottom curve of your breasts becoming visible as the material slips.

"Couldn't help it", you breathe out, hands sliding up his biceps. " I like it when you get mean", you confessed softly, eyes all big and glossy and wanting. He laughs, hair falling over his forehead. "I know, baby. Gonna take my time getting back at you". He's done with the gentle interval, yanking your bikini down to expose your tits. You yelp, not because it was unexpected but because he'd done it a little harder than you had expected. A welcome roughness that made your core feel sticky.

He's all over you, weight pressing down on you as you writhe under him, gasping as he marks you up. More fresh bruises to match the one on your neck are peppered across your breasts first before his lips trail hot on your stomach and then your hips and your thighs. The noises he's forcing out of you are needy and pathetic, high pitched, breathy whimpers and mewling cries of his name all tumble from your lips until he pulls away to look over his work.

You're left panting as he appraises you, eyes raking all over in search of more space to fit another hickey or two. "Never looked better, babe", he sits back on his knees, grinning happily. "On second thought...", he grips your waist, encouraging you to turn around and get on your knees. You scramble to get into position, pulling loose the knot on your bikini top and tossing it towards the back seat so that it no longer hangs limply on you in a tangled mess. You grab at the headrest, bare tits pressing against leather as you arch your back for him and present your ass. "Now you've never looked better", he scoffs, open palm landing on your left cheek with a swift slap.

"Shit! please just fuck me already, Steve", you whine, beyond the point of playing dumb and coy.

He pulls your bottoms to the side, thumb brushing against your soaking entrance as he lets out a low whistle. It's a little strange being almost completely nude in his car like this. You usually had a little more clothing bunched around you on the off chance the rocking vehicle might attract any passersby's attention. It makes you feel that much more vulnerable. Hidden but still technically in public. Still at risk of being discovered.

It's all so terribly exciting.

The distinct jangle of his belt being undone makes your spine tingle and the crude sound of him spitting onto his palm before he tugs on his cock a makes you clench.

"Not gonna go easy on you", he warns, catching your eye when you look back at him over your shoulder.

"I can take it", you challenge him and you can tell by the way the corner of his mouth twitches against the smirk he's trying to force away that he liked it.

He places one hand on your hip and the other on the foggy window pressing his cock into you in one slow thrust.

"That's my girl"

---

The next day you anticipate Robin's reaction when she pretends to barf at the sight of the hickeys on your neck and you giggle, amused because you know never to take it seriously.

Eddie's slower to notice because the first thing he does is climb into the back seat of Steve's car after it's been parked, claiming to have dropped his lighter there yesterday.

"Did you find it?", Steve calls out behind him when he joins you and Robin as you get ready to head into a nearby burger joint for lunch.

There's a suspicious pause and some rustling before he finally yells out an answer.

"Nope! Found something better though"

Kicking open the door, Eddie barrels out with your bikini top sloppily thrown on over his shirt, batting his lashes at Steve like some kind of parody of a lovestruck cartoon.

You're too entertained by it to be embarrassed though you can't say the same for Steve who's turned completely red, placing a hand over your mouth as you snicker.

Puckering his lips, the metalhead makes eyes at your boyfriend and you double over with laughter while Robin rolls here eyes and makes her way inside, having had her fill of Eddie's theatrics.

"Come on big boy, fancy another round in the back seat?"

[rubyin-wonderland]

Trapped

opla!Zoro x gn!reader

Summary: your job as a medic and Zoro's role as your patient is set in stone. That is, until you find yourself needing the medical attention

WC: 2.6k

Warnings/tags: internal injuries, a bit of blood, being stuck in a cave, mild claustrophobia, a little steamy but nothing NSFW

You woke up in pain. You were splayed across a rocky floor, right next to a wall of rock which had formerly been the roof of the cavern.

Your only source of light was the torch you had brought with you, which lay on the ground next to you.

You felt warm waves of pain flowing from your shoulder, knee, and side, as a result of being knocked aside by a sudden cave in.

You looked around, hoping someone was trapped with you. "Zoro?" Your voice was weak. He had been next to you when the rocks had begun to fall. He had pushed you out of the way. There was no chance that any of the others could've made it to you.

"Zoro!" You regained your voice, praying that you weren't stuck, alone and injured, waiting for help to miraculously find you.

You tried to stand, but with your injured arm, which you didn't dare to look at, and the pain in your knee, you just fell over. That only added to the pain you felt, which was nearly all encompassing.

You weren't used to being injured. Not this bad, at least. You were a medic, not a fighter. If someone got scraped up, you were there to soothe the ache and mend the skin. Whenever there was a fight, you stayed away from the greatest source of danger. You fought, and you fought well, but you stayed to the side so that you could use your talents without struggle afterwards.

"Zoro!"

You called one last time, hoping that maybe he hadn't heard you, or that he was scouting through the tunnel. Anything. You couldn't do it alone.

There was a great amount of shuffling, and from a dark corner of the cave, from the highest point where rock met roof, Zoro appeared, climbing down and kneeling next to you. His eyes scanned your body, catching on your arm.

Meanwhile, you scanned him, nothing that while he had a few scratches, including one dried cut on his cheek and the beginnings of a bruise under his eye, he had managed to escape the situation unharmed.

"Are you okay?" You asked out of instinct. It was second nature to make sure people were okay. Especially with him. None of your other friends were more prone to fights and injuries than your swordsman.

He was your primary patient, and not just because of your relationship. He would have more scrapes in a week than the others would have for months. Even given his seemingly endless attempts to worry you, you couldn't help but love him, even if seeing him banged up, bruised and bloody made your heart stop.

"I should be asking you that." He murmured, eyes drifting to your shoulder once more. "Is it bad?" You asked, barely having the heart to look at it yourself.

Zoro didn't answer, opting to stare at it instead, like he could fix it with a frown. You spared a glance and sighed. "It's dislocated."

Zoro looked relieved. "Good. I've seen you fix those before." "On other people. I don't have practice on myself."

You weren't used to taking care of yourself. Of course you patched up wounds, and stitched the odd cut together, but there were some things that were done easier on other people, and with both arms intact.

You shifted in your spot, groaning at the irritation. "You have to do it." Zoro frowned. "Me?" "Yeah, there's no one else down here." "What if I hurt you?" His voice stayed completely serious. "Zoro, my arm is dislocated."

He nodded reluctantly, adjusting his position at your side. "Fine. How do I do it?"

"You have to take my arm," he did as told, grip loosening when he heard you inhale in an attempt to get the pain away. "And you have to guide the ball of my humerus back into the socket. You're gonna have to pull."

He tried to hide his fear, but it was evident he was not having fun. You were the knowledgeable one. You knew how bodies worked and how to fix them. He knew how to fight and earn injuries. Your roles were reversed in a way neither of you cared for.

"It's gonna be okay. My muscles will do most of the work, you just have to guide them, okay?" He nodded and you closed your eyes, waiting for the pain.

You felt the tug before your arm reconnected, in a flash of pain that left you screaming, squirming in agony.

Zoro removed his hands from you immediately, unsure of what to do. He wasn't used to this.

You eventually relaxed, resting your uninjured arm over your forehead, which was now sweaty. "You did good." You said simply. "Now we gotta get the fuck out of here."

"I talked with the others." He gestured at the wall of crumbled rock. "There was a hole up there. They're coming around to get us." "Pick me up. We'll meet them halfway."

Zoro did as told, walking around to your other side, lifting you up by draping your uninjured arm over his neck.

The two of you walked for a bit, stopping briefly when your knee felt particularly bad, or if you just needed to take a break, head bowed as you tried to catch your breath.

Zoro did his best to help you, shouldering most of your weight to help with your knee, which was giving you a pronounced limp. He held the torch as it burned, illuminating the seemingly endless corridor.

Your side burned, but you said nothing of it, hoping that he wouldn't notice, but that was no use, as he stopped at any disturbance in your walking pattern, being as accommodating as he could.

He eventually offered to carry you, but the process of getting you into his arms was an astonishingly painful process that left you sobbing into his shirt for a minute before you insisted on continuing your journey.

Every movement was painful to you, but you concealed it as best you could until you needed to stop.

You felt guilty about burning up the torchlight, but Zoro refused to hear it. "I'm not letting you push yourself. Wait until you feel better."

You walked until your feet were sore, and even Zoro stopped on his own at one point, looking at you.

"Shouldn't your arm be in a sling?" He asked, peeking at your injured arm, hanging limply at your side.

You laughed at your own negligence. "Yeah it should. You know, of this whole 'best swordsman' thing doesn't work out, you'll make a wonderful medic."

He was unresponsive to your joke, and for a second, the two of you understood.

You understood why Zoro tried to play off his injuries, telling you "it's not that bad" or "I've had worse" to reassure you that he was going to be okay. He didn't want you to worry too bad, spending your time worried over nothing, especially if there were other things to be done. He wasn't trying to be difficult.

And Zoro realised why you cared so much. He could see why you wanted to make sure he was completely alright. Because he usually wasn't, and the both of you knew it, even with the attempts at distraction and the words playing it off.

The two of you stopped moving for a second, having understood each other in a way nobody could have predicted happening.

"Yeah. A sling would help."

Zoro helped you lean against the wall of the tunnel, gently setting you down and making sure you were as comfortable as possible.

He then stepped away from your body, removing his shirt. Even in the dom light of the torch, you could see him clearly.

"I don't know where the sling comes in, but I'm really enjoying the view." You smiled weakly, unable to stay serious in this dark cave for too long. He huffed, hiding a smile of his own.

He took a knee in front of you, one leg on either side of yours, making sure to not rest any weight on you, disturbing your leg.

The shirt he had was simple. It was a wrap shirt, which was convenient for the sling. He folded it into a triangle and tucking in the sleeves, before approaching you with the makeshift sling.

He tied the ends in a knot behind your head before gently taking your arm and sliding it into the pocket. You winced as it moved, but the second it was securely in place, you felt mildly better.

He sat slightly above you, waiting for you to insist on moving again, but for once, you let the torch burn.

The light was bright enough that you could see the scar dragging across his chest, a reminder of the time you had nearly lost him. You remembered the worry that had overtaken you that day, and every day since then, hoping he would take his injuries as seriously as you did.

And so, you didn't ask to be picked up just yet.

You lifted your free hand and held onto Zoro's shoulder, gently feeling the warm skin. He shivered, you hand unusually cold.

One of his arms was supported by the wall next to your head, the other sat on his knee, and as you caressed his shoulder, your hand moved up to his neck, pulling him down towards you, so you could capture his lips in a kiss.

The second your lips touched, your hand moved to his cheek, where it usually sat. Unfortunately, the other hand was out of service to cup the other cheek, but you didn't let it hurt you.

He didn't even hesitate to reciprocate, kissing back furiously. He fell onto his second knee to hold you closer, arms wrapping around your body, doing his best not to irritate anything, holding you tight.

For a while, your senses were filled with him. You nearly forgot that you were stuck in the cave as your lips pressed against his again. You parted for seconds at most, only stopping to inhale one shaky breath before he captured your lips again, and whatever small amount of air you had taken in was taken right back out again.

Your lips parted from his once, and you said his name, which drove him to near insanity, watching the sly smile overtake his mouth.

There he was. The Zoro you knew. Just seeing his smile was enough to make you believe that you weren't injured at all, and the two of you were back on the ship, in your shared room, alone except for each other and the rocking of the sea. When you were healed, you were going to demand a night like that with him.

You moved, your kisses now running along his jaw, moving to his neck, your nose just beneath his ear.

His three earrings were cold against your skin. They ticked a small bit, but you didn't move, pressing kiss after kiss on the skin of his neck.

While you did this, he resisted the urge to move his face to your throat and kiss you there as you buried yourself between his neck and shoulder. At one point, he found himself making a noise that sounded like your name. He could feel your smile against his skin and shivered as you pulled away.

The second you heard him speak, your lips curled upwards and you smiled as you dragged your lips lightly up to his face again. Impatiently, he caught your lips with his just as your mouth pressed an extra kiss to his cheek, right over the little cut.

His lips now on yours once more, he took control. He shifted his position over you, cautious as ever about your injuries, taking your face in his hands and kissing you gently. He slowed it down. Making it passionate.

You felt your heart pounding in your ears as he did this, your body yearning to touch his. And so, your free arm grabbed at him, starting at his exposed collarbones, around to the planes of his back, feeling the muscles tense under your cold touch.

As he kissed you, your hand traveled north, along the small bumps in his spine, past his strong shoulders, to brush over the base of his skull feeling his breath hitch as you reached the prickly green hairs at the base of his neck.

He finally pulled away, with a relaxed smile on his face. Not his cocky grin, but something more relaxed. Actually happy.

You smiled back, hand cradling his cheek. "I love you." You pressed one last kiss to his lips. "It's why I keep asking you if you're okay."

"I love you too." He responded, "it's why I don't want you worrying."

The two of you sit against the wall, smiling at each other. You can still feel him on your lips, like an echo, fading into the cavern.

You want this moment to last, but you needed to get back on track.

"We should probably start walking again." You sighed, glancing at the burning torch. Zoro sighed as well, taking your good arm, and carefully standing you up, taking the torch, and walking.

You walked in silence as the light of the torch began to dim. "What should we do when the light goes out?" You asked, eyes straining to see in the darkness. "We'll stay put. Wait for them to find us." "That could take a while."

You hadn't meant to sound so worried, but it did make Zoro look down at you. "I could try carrying you again."

You agreed, and soon you were in Zoro's arms, the torch carried in his mouth. You bit back any sounds of pain as he lifted you up and began to run. He ran for a while, but the torch was dimming fast. You were nearly submerged in darkness, and you told Zoro to stop.

"We should find somewhere to wait before it goes completely dark." You suggested, staring at the embers of the torch.

He mumbled a response and set you down against a wall, tossing the torch into the darkness.

Your free hand reached out to find him, pulling him down to sit next to you. "So now we wait." You said into the darkness. You heard Zoro hum in agreement.

"They'll find us any minute." You mumbled, resting your head on Zoro's shoulder, your free hand now being held between both of his. "We just have to wait."

The two of you sat in silence. The way you sat was similar to the way the two of you would nap on the ship. If you ignored your surroundings and forced yourself to feel Zoro enough, you could convince yourself that you were actually there, and not stuck in a dark, stuffy cave waiting for people to come save you.

Eventually, you felt yourself drifting off, imagining you were back on the ship, happy and uninjured.

Zoro felt your breaths slow, until your soft snores began. Despite the urge to nap with you, he stayed alert. He needed to be there for you when the others arrived.

When they did eventually arrive, Zoro picked you up, careful with your injuries and carried you out, all while you were still asleep.

At the first shine of natural light on your face, you awoke, a small groan drawn from your lips.

"We're out." You observed, taking your first breath of fresh air. "Yeah we are."

"As fun as this has been, I think you should stick to being safe and let the injuries fall to me." Zoro suggested, looking down at you, wreathed in the warm sunlight. You breathed a small laugh. "I won't argue with you."

[sunnie-writes]

cupid's chokehold.

pairing: jax x cupid!gn!reader

tags & tropes: fluff, shameless flirting, fell first/fell harder

summary: you were absolutely confused because of two things: one, you got transported to a random dimension and became a totally different person, gaining the title of a cupid, and two, you had fallen in love at first sight with the most sarcastic purple rabbit man ever. well, at least you didn't felt like complaining on the second part.

tell me, sunnie!!: AAAAAAAAAAAAAA... anyways, hiiiii:3 i got a new fandom added to my brain, injected it into my veins and now i am addicted. so, this funky little guy didn't actually catch my attention at first but then i watched some edits and was like "HMMMMMM i mean yeah sure" and then i decided to check tumblr, stumbled on a fic of him and went "OH. OH." yk?? anyways, i hope you guys enjoy this bc i wrote it instead of sleeping and i have to wake up early tomorrow el oh el!!1!1!1!1

warnings?: kissing, suggestive(?) i mean it's just neck biting but idk........

first of all, you don't know how the hell you are... here, nor why you've been stuck in this place for two weeks already.

it's a colorful world, saturated to the maximum amount possible. you know, the type to burn your eyes if you stare at a specific spot for too long. it also looked like some kind of fever dream, with all the toys scattered and the way different people? characters? looked like.

not like you can say much, you have heart shaped pupils and you're wearing something that looks like an ancient greece tunic. also, sandals. you have these big feathered white wings that are a pinkish hue at the tip of every single feather. you tried pulling one out to see if it was actually real, resulting in a yelp from your mouth. it kinda hurts.

and that reaction caused a chuckle to come from someone who has your eyes dedicated to just admiring them.

frankly speaking, if you went back and told your past self that by putting those weird vr headset glasses on you would be signing up to falling for a tall and lanky purple rabbit with a yellow smile, you would probably just chuckle and still do it, but with even more determination than before. eh, what can you say? you've always been attracted to the weirdest characters anyways.

but this... this was real, he was real and he was talking to other real weird animated people. ragatha rambled next to you about... honestly, you didn't even know, too busy watching from afar a certain rabbit. this was the start to possibly one of your most frustrating crushes ever.

"[name]? are you okay? you seem more distracted today?" she worriedly asked, putting her hand on your shoulder, "you shouldn't think too much about trying to find an exit if that's what you're thinking about, you might get abs-"

"huh? no, i wasn't thinking about that!" you quickly hurried to give an explanation, trying to dismiss that idea from her, but your eyes darted again to the overall wearing guy and she followed your gaze.

she slowly moved her head back at you after seeing what you were so... distracted about. a smirk broke in her face.

"oooh, little [nickname] has a cruuush?" ragatha teased you.

"wha- no- that's not-" before you could continue, your flushed cheeks got even more red as you saw him approaching. you immediately shut your mouth and just looked at the floor, trying to quickly hide your face

"sup', what are you two gossiping about today?" jax spoke in a mocking, sultry tone that had melting down a drain... not literally though.

"oh, nothing. you know, just the usual!" ragatha quickly tried to hide that topic from him, trying to distract or something. play it cool!

"uh-huh, and why is little cupid over here heating up like a preheated oven?" you almost choked on spit before looking at him with furrowed eyebrows and slightly flushed cheeks.

"none of your business, jax, don't bring your teasing and mocking over to [name]!"

"aww, why not?" jax dropped his hand on your shoulder, "say, little cupid, i heard doll face over here mentioning a crush, who do ya' have the hots for?"

your mind instantly went to answer "you" internally z meanwhile, your lips just answered in an almost quiet sound.

"i'm not telling you."

"huh, and why is that?" he leaned in close, and suddenly you felt absurdly claustrophobic.

he looks so... absurdly attractive with that smirk. you wish you could wipe it off of his face.

"because..." it doesn't take too long to come up with an excuse, you're an overthinker who is always prepared for this kind of situation, "you would mock me for it, and i don't feel like getting bullied by a purple beanpole."

"gasp, you wound me with your hateful words!" he dramatically posed, meanwhile ragatha chuckled in the background. "how can a cupid, made of pure love, be this mean?"

you just lightly punched him in the arm at that.

---

night time seemed like a blur to you in this world. sleep? never heard of that.

it's been a month already and your crush hasn't faltered. instead, it got bigger each day, but to be fair, it was impossible for it to not grow. jax decided that, for some reason, he liked teasing you a bit too much since he found out you might have a crush on someone.

playful flirting seemed to be his favorite to use on you, since you just tried your best to not show how it actually affected you. honestly, you felt like some kind of cliche teenager movie where you're about to write his name on a notebook with hearts all around it.

and that felt too cheesy, even for a cupid.

---

oh my stars, he wishes it's him.

you know, at first when you arrived at the digital circus, jax paid no mind to you. i mean, yeah, you were probably the cutest person in this digital purgatory, but he didn't think that he could fall for anyone in here, this isn't some weird sitcom episode. but it was starting to get difficult to not let him lose himself in a romantic trance when you were around.

he wonders if you used anything on him that could've possibly made him slowly fall for you, hard.

in the second week, he began noticing things about you. for example, you laughed at his jokes and sarcastic personality, got irritated for his pranks but never screamed at him, just shrugging it off like normally, you didn't even care when he stole something from your room.

it was mind breaking to just try and see what could get a reaction out of you towards him. until it was revealed that you had a crush on someone in that place.

jax isn't dumb, he already caught you looking at him from afar just to fastly change your gaze and get flustered, how your hands trembled when you were near him, heart eyes expanding when he talked to you. so, just to test if his theory was real, he decided to leave a subtle flirt for you. and that was checkmate.

he thought at first that it was weird, that maybe he could just play with you a little bit and entertain your little crush on him. but then, the spell turned against him. you flirted back once, and that made him feel awfully fuzzy minded. now, he was the one staring at you from afar sometimes.

that wasn't in his plans, falling for you even harder than you fell for him wasn't supposed to happen. yet, it did anyway.

and now the realization dawned on him that, at some point, he's going to have to either confess or simply hide that for forever, since that's the time they're gonna be stuck in the same dimension together. how fun, isn't it?

---

your feet took you outside of the tent, as everybody was now sleeping comfortably in their own rooms. well, at least you thought they were. stepping onto the grass and breathing in some fresh air, you looked up, waved at the sun and the moon, who smiled back at you contently. then you finally sat down and layed on the saturated green ground, looking up at the fake stars.

you sighed heavily, trying to distract your worried mind that screamed about wanting to get out and at the same time never wanting to leave. it was downright confusing, and left you with pent up energy that made your brain go 100/mph.

you heard footsteps behind you, looking up just to meet with a yellow smile and cartoonish eyes. you immediately gulped as his smirk grew.

"heyyy little cupid, what are you doing here so late?" he questioned you with a lower tone of voice before sitting down by your side. you immediately sat up too.

"just... thinking about some stuff." not losing any chance, you tried to start a conversation. "what about you?"

"meh, just bored and couldn't sleep." jax then looked at you in the eyes. "what could you possibly be thinking about?"

"ah, you know... just the usual!" you tried to quickly change topics, you didn't feel like traumadumping on anyone today nor did you feel like telling him that he's the reason you didn't abstract yet.

"and, does the usual involve your secret little crush?"

your breathe hitches, "why are you so curious about who i like?"

"i just am, it's interesting to see your reactions when i mention them." he leaned down, holding his head with his hand as he still stared at you. "why don't you tell me who it is? i'm starting to get the wrong idea that it's me since you refuse to speak about the mystery person to me."

you think you just felt your heart stop. your eyes go wide and you can feel the heat coursing through your body, blood rushing and flushing your cheeks. you know what? okay then, since there is no escape from this situation, might as well finish the night with a bang before you leave to sleep.

"that's... not the wrong idea at all." you confessed, watching as his eyes went wide in a millisecond.

"what." he spoke before sitting up and grabbing your shoulders. "you're not fucking with me, are ya?"

you shook your head while embarrassingly looking to the floor, feeling frustration pooling in your head.

"no, i'm not. i like you jax, i like your stupid pranks, your stupid jokes, your mischievous smile, your ey-" you were cut off by lips meeting with yours.

as your current situation settled in your mind, you got yourself comfortable and closes your eyes, lacing your arms around his neck and pulling him even closer before you two fell back again, you under him. your stomach was doing backflips, breaking down at the feeling of being reciprocated.

when you finally broke apart, your heart eyes were absurdly big, staring at him while you panted for air. he chuckled at your face, giving a big smile while himself was actually melting at finally having you in his arms. jax laid his head on between your neck and your shoulder. you petted his head, until you felt something.

he was biting your neck, leaving love bites and hickeys behind.

first of all, you didn't even knew if he could open his mouth, but apparently he could (?). you couldn't think much of it, too busy holding back an embarrassing whimper. you held his head and tried not to close your legs around his waist as he continued to bite.

he pulled back, looking at you with a smirk and raised eyebrows.

"well, look what a mess i've done, darlin'. how do ya' feel?"

you couldn't even answer, feeling absolutely overwhelmed by his hand on your waist, the knee resting between your legs and your mind slowly losing it's control. instead of an answer, you just pulled him down for another kiss.

yeah, you probably were enjoying that, but jax? ha! in his mind, he was melting down a drain, patting himself in the back for the idea of deciding to take a night walk and accidentally seeing you. he grinned into the french kiss, feeling absurdly high at the moment.

he wasn't sure how everyone would react to you finally being his, not that he cared about their opinion, but he thinks if would be funny to see their faces. he can't wait for it to happen, but now it's not time to think about that.

it's time for him to think on how to calm his rapidly beating heart that might give you the hint that he loves you way more than you love him.

tell me, sunnie!!: AAAAA i finished writing this only the next day, sorry if it's too short btw!! i know it missed a lot and should have more things but it was rlly rushed bc i want to write more of him <\33 but yeah, thank you for reading sunshine!!

[sserpente]

Chasing Nix

Synopsis: You are a mermaid from the Upside Down, stranded in Lover’s Lake after the earthquake hit Hawkins. Dustin finds you and promises to keep you safe. He takes you to the community pool to hide and has Eddie Munson look after you while he searches for a more permanent place for you to stay. You like the gentle metalhead. Quickly overcome with the urge to be with him and protect him rather than feed on him, you panic when a boy named Jason finds him at the pool and starts to hurt him. So you jump out of the water and attack. In the aftermath, you notice that something is different, that your tail… has turned into a pair of legs…

Words: 6206 Warnings: violence, blood, feeding, mermaid!Reader

The water tasted different here. Less… sulphuric and somehow… somehow sweeter too. You were yet to decide whether you liked it. You didn’t know how many days had passed since the earthquake. Since your world and their world bled into each other.

You’d been too slow, too weak to resist the pull of gravity sucking you into a dimension that was not yours. There were trees all around you. Life of all kinds. The grass, the leaves, the bushes, animals with fur… it was all alive. And as long as you were not certain any of those living things posed any threat to your survival… you would remain hidden in these waters.

You were hungry. And you were getting hungrier every day. Every now and then, humans would come to the lake. They’d swim in it for fun, to cool down… and it took all of your willpower not to drag one of them underwater to feast until you were sated, for once you did, your location would be known to them. Humans were social creatures. And if you killed one… others would come to investigate.

The air tasted different too. It was crisp, fresh… there were no particles swirling around, none that you could see. You took a deep breath as you heaved yourself onto a rock. You only did so once it was dark—once the last humans had disappeared from sight.

“Holy shit!” Whoever he was, he shone the light coming from the metal cylinder directly into your face. You squinted your eyes and dove back into the water panicking.

“No, no, no, wait! Are you… can you understand me?” the boy asked. You blinked, hesitating. Then, you nodded. Yes. You understood him.

“What… what are you?”

You tilted your head. The words did not quite want to leave your lips. It was almost like your vocal cords had not yet gotten used to the air in this dimension. Furthermore, you were terrified. Any wrong move could result in your immediate demise, and just because this boy looked innocent, there was no way of knowing if he was a predator.

Finally, he lowered the light and brought his free hand to his chest. “I’m Dustin… don’t worry, you’re safe. Are you… are you from the Upside Down?”

You frowned in response.

“Like… another… the other dimension? Did you end up here after the earthquake?”

You nodded quickly.

“Okay… okay… well, you can’t stay here. There’s other humans who might try to hurt you if they find you. Are you… friendly?”

Friendly? You were selective with your prey, you were very well familiar with the concept of morals, good and bad deeds. You only killed to survive. So you nodded again.

“Alright… I’m gonna believe you.” Dustin didn’t take his eyes off of you when he pulled a metal box from his back pocket and started speaking into it.

“Steve? Steve, do you copy?”

You gasped when a voice, likely belonging to another human, came out of the box. “Yeah? Yeah, what is it?”

“You need to come to Lover’s Lake right now. Do you still have that broken freezer in your trunk? The one Robin asked you to throw away for her?”

“Yeah… why?”

“Bring it. We’re gonna have to fill it up with water.”

“What the hell are you on about, Henderson?”

“Just do it!” Dustin yelled. “Over and out!” Before the other human—Steve—could respond, he tucked the box away again.

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you somewhere safe. I have an idea!”

Needless to say, you weren’t particularly fond of the idea of swimming into a white container filled with water. Steve was taller than Dustin and you assumed that meant he was older too. As soon as you realised that he was helping you though, you warmed up to him.

He arrived in a huge metal box on wheels only a short while later and eventually, they attached the white container to a rope they ended up dragging onto a smaller set of wheels attached to the metal box… once Dustin has persuaded you to swim into it. A car, you had heard Steve say. That’s what the big box on wheels was called.

They drove you away from the safety of the lake soon after, leaving you with a sickening feeling in your stomach. Had it been a good idea to trust this human boy? He could have been lying, after all. But… no. You were good at reading people, good at detecting their intentions. Dustin was pure, not depraved, not like Henry Creel.

When the car stopped, you froze. The water you were floating in stilled then, and Steve opened the metal bit that had prevented the container from sliding off onto the road. Together, they pulled you toward a rectangle-shaped body of water. It was a little mucky and dark and it smelled horribly chemical. Your nose was not used to the chlorine. You gagged when they tipped the container over and you tasted the artificial water. There was a rather large broken stone pillar that had fallen into the water, separating the indoor pool right in the middle. And it was dark. Despite the horrible taste of the water, you felt safer here not being surrounded by living things—even if you preferred the lake over this standing collection of chemicals.

“Dustin? Why are we here?” The boy who came barging in only a short while after had dark skin. His eyes widened when he spotted you. Right behind him followed another boy, a really skinny one with light skin and dark hair. You retreated. So many humans… Dustin had brought you to safety. He was kind, a compassionate human. What if those other humans hurt him? Baring your fangs for a moment, you splashed water as you swam away from the edge. Dustin must have called for them inside the car on your way here. Why?

“Holy… shit. Dustin… what is that?”

“That’s, uh… Nix!”

“Nix?” The other two boys said in unison.

“Yeah… you know like Nixies. The mythical creatures? She’s basically a mermaid so… Nix.”

“Let me guess… she’s from the Upside Down.”

“Obviously!” Steve exclaimed, arms akimbo.

Dustin turned to you, noticing your discomfort. “Hey, it’s okay! These are my friends! That’s Lucas,” he pointed at the dark-skinned boy, “and this is Mike.” He pointed at the other boy. “They’re gonna help me keep you safe, okay?”

You hesitated but eventually… you returned to the edge of the pool. Lucas and Mike were equally weary of you.

“What were you thinking? The community pool? They’re gonna start renovations here soon!” Mike said.

Dustin put up his hands. “Yes but I know that they’re not gonna be draining the pool until next week, until then, we’ll figure something out and she can hide here.”

“I guess it’s better than the police finding her,” Steve added. The police? What was a police? And would they hurt you?

“Can she speak?” Lucas asked.

“She hasn’t said a word to us yet but she nods and shakes her head. She understands us.”

“So she’s mute.”

“Kind of like when we first met El, remember?” Mike asked. The boy with the dark skin gave him a glare.

“She’s from the Upside Down. If anything, this is gonna be another Dart situation. What does she… eat?”

“I’m about to find out. I came prepared in case I came across a Demogorgon.” Dustin knelt down and opened his backpack, revealing raw chicken breast in a plastic bag. He poured the contents out before you and then took a step back.

You blinked. It was clear to you he meant to feed you but what was that? You sniffed and recoiled. It was dead. Raw flesh from a dead animal.

“Huh… I thought that would work. If she doesn’t eat meat, that’s a good sign, right?”

“Not… necessarily,” Lucas responded.

You wanted to speak. Let them know what you fed on, how you fed. But even when you opened your mouth, not a single sound escaped your lips. It was like your mind was preventing you from sharing your voice with this dimension.

Dustin sighed. “How’s Eddie?”

“Holding up. I mean, Hopper is working on it but the whole town still thinks he worships the devil.”

“Where is he right now?”

“In my basement,” Mike said. “Holly made him host a tea party with her dolls.”

Lucas snorted—laughing. He was laughing. “I’d give a lot to see that.”

Once again, Dustin pulled out the metal box and started speaking into it.

“Eddie? Do you copy?”

“Henderson?” Your lips parted. You liked that voice.

“Eddie, I need you to come to the community pool.”

“Right now?”

“Right now. It’s urgent. I’ll explain everything when you get here.”

“Alright… copy that. I’m on my way.”

“Is that a good idea?” Lucas asked. “I mean… Jason was released from the hospital today. What’s your plan?”

“Eddie’s gonna stay and hide here, with Nix, looking after her.” You frowned. You didn’t know Eddie. You didn’t want Dustin to leave.

“I don’t think she’s very fond of that plan.” Lucas pointed at you with his chin. “She looks jealous. So what are we gonna do?”

“First of all, we need to tell Hopper and Nancy and then we’re going to the southern edge of town.”

“The southern edge? What for?”

Dustin packed the metal speaking box away. “You remember that old water tank they stopped using a few years ago?”

“Yeah… but how the hell would we get her up there?”

“I don’t know, that’s what we need to find out.”

There was no such thing as pretty in your world. You were covered in grime and slime, there were webs between your fingers to help you swim and your eyes resembled what humans would likely refer to as reptiles in this world and your tail with the spiked smaller fins was of such a dark green it was almost black.

And yet… you wished the older boy who came walking into the roofed building would take as much interest in you as you did in him. You liked his hair. It was long and curly, framing his face perfectly, and on his fingers, he wore pieces of silver. You realised quickly he must have done so for aesthetic purposes, much like the holes in his black trousers.

Was that Eddie? Was that the human boy they wanted to look after you? Dustin seemed to rely on him and you were quite certain you didn’t like that. Dependence was dangerous. It left you vulnerable. Especially a kind soul like Dustin.

You hid when he came closer, diving under the fallen pillar and emerging again on the other side.

“She’s, uh… a mermaid, basically,” you heard Dustin say.

“Jesus H. Christ, she is what now?”

“Yeah… I called her Nix. Nix?” Nix.There it was again.Your lips parted. Oh… he had given you a name. He was calling you. “It’s okay!” you heard Dustin shout. “Eddie is nice! He’s my friend! He’s gonna look after you while we’re gone, trying to find a more permanent place for you to stay, alright?”

“Does she look… human at all?” Eddie asked.

“See for yourself.” You emerged by the edge of the pool, looking at Eddie curiously. He was even prettier up close. Oh. You liked him. He had a good heart, a kind soul, much like Dustin. He was… soft. Your eyes met and somehow… you found yourself being unable to look away.

“Can you… understand me?” Eddie asked.

You nodded. You were almost disappointed when Dustin turned his attention back to him to tell him about their plan in detail.

“So you want me to stay here with her…” Eddie concluded.

“Exactly.”                                                                                

“Alright… yeah. I can do that.” You could have sworn you heard him mutter “A fucking mermaid” under his breath but you weren’t sure.

You watched him pull up what must have been a chair made from a very light white material from a stack nearby and sat down—within a safe distance of the pool. As if you couldn’t reach him if you wanted to…

“Are you gonna be okay with her?”

“Yeah, man… I’ve been through worse.”

“Alright… call if there’s any problems at all, okay?”

Eddie smiled bitterly. “Will do.”

The remaining boys nodded. They gave you one final glance before they left and Eddie and you were alone.

The silence was loud, it almost hurt your ears. But what irked you even more was this weird feeling that kept spreading in your chest. You wanted him to like you, wanted his approval… and you just couldn’t figure out why.

“Hey… Nix,” Eddie finally said. You nodded at him. Hey. What would you give to be able to speak to him…

“So… so you’re from the Upside Down then?”

You tilted your head and nodded.

“Are there more like you?”

You nodded again.

“Wow… what… what do I call you? I mean, what are you? A mermaid?”

Mermaid… you had heard Dustin use the same term. You shrugged. Why not?

“Alright then… we have mermaids here too.”

Your eyes widened.

“Oh, no, I mean… we have stories about them. Books and movies and shit. And they’re in Dungeons & Dragons, that’s a fantasy game. I play in a club, called it the Hellfire Club. Yeah, we have a band too, we play metal,” he rambled.

You looked at him with intrigue. Music? Metal? Band? Dungeons & Dragons? You only understood half of the things he was telling you about but you could tell that he was passionate about them, tilting your head when he started talking more about the mermaids in this fantasy game, mermaids that looked similar to you.

“They usually live for up to five-hundred years in the game and they can shape-shift into humans.”

Shapeshift into humans? You tilted your head.

“They usually have a +8 racial bonus on any Swim check to perform some special action or something like that and they can always choose to take ten on a Swim check, even if they’re distracted. It can use the run action while swimming, provided they swim in a straight line but…” He trailed off as you blinked at him. You did not have a clue what he was talking about and you were certain he had just realised that. Your heart sped up when he smiled. What was going on with you?

You rested your forearms on the edge of the pool, practically glued to his lips as he calmed down a little and then told you about his favourite music groups like Metallica, Iron Maiden, and Dio and finally, the music that he was making music himself.

“I play guitar in our band. Gonna play stadium tours with Corroded Coffin one day, you’ll see.” He grinned. You had no doubt whatsoever that he would be successful. Men like him always were. Pure souls received only kindness after initial hardships. Somehow… somehow you knew that.

Your gaze fell to his stomach where a small strip of skin was visible between his ripped trousers and his washed-out band t-shirt. You caught a glimpse of what resembled a scar before you followed your yellow eyes down to where his skin was on display and tugged it down quickly.

He must have been injured before—badly. Scarring only occurred when the human body was unable to heal back to its original state… right? You bit your lower lip. Did it have something to do with your dimension? The Upside Down? None of the boys had been particularly fazed about seeing you. Surprised, yes… but there had been no genuine shock. You liked that more than you would like to admit.

“Maybe I’ll bring my guitar next time. Play you some tunes…” he offered timidly, one of his hands playing with his curly hair. You nodded eagerly. You would love to hear music from this dimension, it sounded wonderful. Perhaps you could also—

“Munson! I know you’re here! Say something, freak!”

You flinched. Whoever this voice belonged to, they were not friendly. Eddie’s eyes widened. He tensed up and jumped up from his chair, his brown gaze darting over to you. “Hide! Quick! He can’t see you!”

You nodded and dove underwater, watching the situation unfold from below the surface. Luckily, it was dark and the water was mucky enough for you to remain unseen.

“Well, well, well… there you are. Fucking knew I saw Harrington’s car in the parking lot.” A blonde boy stepped in sight. He was pale, sweaty—and he had a downright murderous expression on his face.

“Jason, man… hey. Out of the hospital, I heard? Glad to see you’re feeling better, man. Past weeks have been crazy,” you heard Eddie say.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Munson, you’re the reason our town is going to shit in the first place.”

“I’m not…”

“Shut up! Now I know the police won’t lock you up until they have evidence that you killed Chrissy and the others but that doesn’t mean I can’t keep investigating on my own. I’ll give you one chance to come with me.”

The reason? Locked up? Killed? Did this Jason blame Eddie for the earthquakes? How would he be responsible for them? This was Henry, those were his murders that tore at the very fabric of the dimensions…

“Listen, Jason, you got this all wrong, man. I didn’t kill anyone. I just got dragged into this, alright? I promise I didn’t do anything.”

“You turning yourself in or not?”

You couldn’t make out Eddie’s response, perhaps because he didn’t give one. Instead, you watched Jason start at him, pushing him so hard he lost his balance and fell on the wet tiles with a groan. He inched back helplessly but not fast enough. Jason towered above him and grabbed him by the collar before he could even think about escaping, next thing you knew, his fist connected with Eddie’s face. You gasped for air. Again, and again, and again.

Eddie was flailing. He was fighting back of course but Jason looked like one of those humans who were exceptionally strong due to repeated physical activity. Eddie’s orientation bled out with every single punch Jason threw, blood disfiguring his beautiful features. He let go of Eddie’s shirt, knocking him back and then, he kicked him in the stomach—right where you had caught a glimpse of freshly healed scars.

Eddie groaned and moaned, unable to fight back anymore. With his strength fading and the pain taking over, you could only imagine the torture he was enduring. You clenched your fists, anger flowing through your veins like liquid fire. You’d watched this long enough.

With a hiss, you whacked your tail and jumped out of the water, latching onto Jason’s back. You bared your fangs, yanking his neck back to give yourself access, and bit down as hard as you could. It was surprisingly easy to break human skin. His blood gushed into your mouth, fuelling your instincts to drink him dry. He was yelling, of course, screaming in pain. You were not being gentle. There were more discreet ways to go about feeding but Jason, whoever he was and whatever he blamed Eddie for, deserved the pain.

So you kept drinking, sip after sip after sip until somebody yanked your head back and tossed you on the ground, too far away from the pool for you to slip back into the water. Eddie? No, it couldn’t have been Eddie. You glanced over to him, spotting his curled-up form on the wet tiles.

It was Steve. Steve had come back, he’d been the one to drag you off of him. Jason was unconscious. Steve had wrapped Jason’s arm around his neck, barely able to hold him up.

“Shit, are you okay, man?” he called over to Eddie. “Someone’s gonna have to stay with… with her.” You didn’t fail to notice that he did not call you by the name Dustin had given you.

“Yeah…” he grunted. “I’m alright… I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yepp… I just need a moment.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll be back as soon as I can, alright? I’m gonna tell him a wild animal attacked him or something like that…”

Your tail was tingling. You didn’t like the fresh air from this dimension enveloping it. Steve left all the while you wiped the remaining blood from your chin and turned over. You froze. Something was different. Something was… off.

You attempted to whack your tail, desperate to get back into the water. Every instinct, every fibre of your being was screaming for you to get back in, to get back to safety… but you had to make sure that Eddie was okay.

You looked down and… gasped for air. You had… legs. Real legs with knees, calves, feet, and toes… both jerked when you tried to move them like your tail, using your core strength like you normally did. It didn’t get you very far at all.

Eddie groaned again. You took a deep breath, frustrated at your lack of understanding. How were they supposed to work then? How were you supposed to move? You had to get to Eddie, you had to… another groan.

You flipped over again, ignoring your legs completely and inched yourself forward with your hands, crawling and entirely relying on your upper body strength until you reached him. Eddie’s brown eyes widened when he realised how close you were, hovering above him. His breathing quickened, his expression full of horror… scared. He was scared. Scared… of you?

No… no, you had only wanted to help him, to save him! Gently, you lifted your hand and brushed your fingertips over his right cheekbone. His nose was bleeding and his right eye was a little swollen from the punches Jason had landed.

“Oh… oh.” He realised that you did not mean to hurt him quickly, his body relaxing a little. Relief flooded your veins. “I’m okay… t-thanks. You really…” Eddie tried to sit up, moaning once more in the process.

“Shit, you’ve got legs! Jesus H. Christ, you have legs! And… oh… you’re… you’re, uh…” He blushed. You were naked. Without a shadow of a doubt, that was what he was going to say.

You breathed out. Yes… yes, that. Even so, however, you were still covered in grime and the slimy residue your skin produced to keep itself moisturised. It could not have been a pretty sight.

Eddie scrambled to his feet. He almost bent over when another wave of pain hit his stomach—and you wished for nothing more than to stop his suffering. You knew you could. All you had to do, it was… you bit your lower lip as you watched him take off his leather jacket and wrap it around you, covering you. It was warm, soft. It was comfortable, made you feel safe… and it smelled like him. It smelled like smoke.

“Alright, let’s uh… can you stand up? Can you do that for me?” Stand up… he meant… like him? You nodded, trying your best to mimic his movements. You made it to your knees after some initial struggles but then, as soon as you attempted to lift just one leg, you lost your balance. Eddie was by your side before you could even blink.

“Whoa, hey… careful there, I got you… let me, uh…” Your lips parted when he kneeled down himself and hooked his left arm under the back of your knees, the other wrapping around your middle, and then… he scooped you up.

“Would you like to take a shower?”

You tilted your head. A what?

“Oh, uh… a shower. Like… rinse down? Get washed up? You’re probably not familiar with that concept in the water.”

You shook your head. You clearly weren’t. But you did indeed want to wash all that slime off of yourself. You looked down at your hands, spreading your fingers. The webs between them were gone too.

Eddie took you to an adjacent room. Several showerheads lined the wall and when he turned one on, the water came gushing down like a little waterfall. It was almost a little fascinating… turning the flow of water on and off in this dimension, just like that… how did they build that?

Eddie used his foot to pull another one of those light chairs toward the running showerhead and sat you down, removing the leather jacket from your shoulders so it wouldn’t get wet.

“Can you, uh… do you need my help?” he asked. You shook your head. No… you’d manage somehow. As you began to rub your skin under the running water, Eddie pulled out the same little metal box Dustin had used to communicate with his friends.

“Dustin? Dustiiin… DUSTIN! Come on, man!”

The box gave a static noise and then, you could hear Dustin’s voice.

“Eddie? What’s wrong, are you okay?”

“Has Steve been in touch with you yet?”

“No… no, why? He dropped us off at the water tower and left, where is he?”

“I, uh… we might have a situation here, man.”

Silence. “What kind of situation?”

“Jason found me. I’m alright, Steve made it here in time, he got him out but uh… there’s something you’ll need to see.”

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” Dustin exclaimed. “Did he see Nix? Did he hurt her?”

“See, I told you it was not a good idea to send Eddie out there!” Lucas exclaimed in the background.

Eddie looked at you and you blinked. No. You did not regret what you had done to Jason.

“She saved me, man, she attacked him. Bit his neck and drank his blood like a fucking vampire.”

“Holy shit! Okay… okay, we’ll… I’m calling Steve, we’ll be right there!”

Eddie covered his face with his free hand. “There’s something else.”

“What? What is it?”

“She has legs.”

“What?”

“She has legs. She jumped out of the water and she didn’t go back in and… now she has legs.”

“Eddie, don’t take your eyes off of her. Don’t let her run!”

Eddie looked at you sitting there on the plastic chair and attempting to move your feet one at a time. You were hardly successful but at least, the running water felt nice on your skin.

“She can’t even walk, man…”

“We’ll be right there, okay? Give us like… ten minutes! Over and out!”

Eddie sighed and put the metal box away. He jumped into action, moved you away from the shower stream, and retrieved a soft piece of fabric from a shelf nearby. He also took one for himself, cleaning up the blood on his face.

“Here… you can dry off with that.” Oh. Of course. You did as you were told and then breathed out in relief when he returned his leather jacket to you. It was so big it almost swallowed you whole. In the meantime, Eddie turned off the shower and then leaned against the wall, his face distorted in pain as he put his palm flat against his stomach.

What if… what if the wounds the creatures in your dimension had inflicted on him had not yet healed off properly? What if Jason had hurt him more than he’d planned? What if… what if you helped?

You opened your mouth, desperate to speak but apart from an audible breath, not a single sound escaped your lips. So you decided to let your body speak instead. You reached for him, leaning forward. Gosh, you couldn’t even walk over to him… this was pathetic. You felt so helpless… so vulnerable. And you’d had no idea your tail could do that, adapt to your environment to let you… walk on land. Well… if only you knew how to use them. Perhaps Eddie could teach you. They all made it look so easy.

Are you okay? you tried to say. You looked at him expectantly, relieved when he caught up.

“I’m alright… I’ve taken worse,” he said with a grin. You wished you could return it. But you were concerned. So you pointed at his stomach.

“That? Yeah… long story. You ever come across those gross bats with those creepy ass tails?”

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Not that you’re creepy!” he quickly corrected himself. He laughed, clearly a little embarrassed. “They use their tails to choke people, that kind of thing… yeah, they, uh… they got me pretty badly.”

Your lips parted. The bats had done this to him? Had caused those scars? You leaned forward even further at the risk of falling over, a sly attempt to lift his shirt. You couldn’t help with those scars but whatever injuries Jason had caused…

“Eddie! We’re here!” You breathed out, leaning back and clutching the leather jacket when Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Steve came in sight. They all stared at you as if you’d grown a second head instead of a pair of legs.

All of them were out of breath. It was hard to believe they’d hurried this much because of you.

“This day is so messed up…” Lucas muttered.

“Tell me about it,” Eddie gave back. He turned, wincing in pain yet again. Overcome with the urge to hug him, you gasped for air. You decided there and then. You were going to heal him.

“Eddie… are you alright?” Dustin asked. He nodded in response. “Good. Okay. So. The most important question right now is, where do we take Nix?”

Mike took a step back. “I can’t hide her in my basement…”

“What about Rick’s boathouse?” Eddie suggested. “You said the police already searched the place so they’ll have ruled it out. We head back to the lake and hide there.”

“That could work. Nix would be close to water just in case too…” Dustin added. Eddie nodded. It was a good idea. You did prefer the lake over the standing water at the community pool anyway.

“Back to Lover’s Lake? So why did we get her away from there in the first place again?”

“Because, Lucas, she had no idea where she was and if anyone had found her there before us… that could have ended badly considering what she did to Jason.” Oh yeah… you still didn’t feel bad about that one.

“So… you said she can’t walk?” Steve asked. Eddie shook his head.

“Had to carry her,” he said.

“Okay, let’s get her to the car then. At least I don’t have to drag a fucking freezer around anymore now.”

You gasped for air when Steve lifted you up. You didn’t feel unsafe but you would have preferred Eddie to carry you again. But then again… it was probably for the best, given that he was in pain. With a deep breath, you calmed yourself down and let Steve tuck you into the car. Confusion struck your face and you froze when he fastened two straps of leather across your body to keep you from moving. You squirmed. Was he tying you up?

“Oh no, don’t panic, alright? See this?” He pointed at the red piece of the buckle holding you in place. “It’s a seatbelt. If you press down here, you can get out. It’s a safety thing, alright?”

You nodded—relief, however, only washed over you when Eddie got in the car as well and sat down next to you.

“We need to get her some proper clothes,” Steve said as he started the engine and pulled the car out of the parking lot. “I’m gonna give Nancy a call.”

“What about Robin?”

“Visiting family in Iowa. She won’t be back until Friday.”

“Right…” Dustin sighed and then… silence spread in the car as if someone had draped a sheet over you all. You scooted closer to Eddie. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you, right? You’d seen it in those beautiful brown eyes.

You waited, patiently, when Steve finally stopped the car again. Eddie unfastened your seatbelt for you and then, Steve was carrying you again. You clung to his shirt until you reached the boathouse, looking around in awe.

You liked the atmosphere here. It was dark and gloomy and it smelled like water—the water of the lake. Eddie had been right, you did feel comfortable here.

“Put her there.” Steve brought you over to the old and battered sofa Eddie pointed to. You shivered. Ugh, you were not quite sure you liked having legs. One thing was for sure—you did not want to be left alone but now that this Jason was after Eddie for some delusional accusations, what if he left?

You reached for him, holding his hand. Dustin chuckled.

“I think she doesn’t want you to leave, Eddie.”

“Oh. I’m right here, sweetheart. I’m not leaving.”

Sweetheart? That was an endearing term, right? Did that mean he liked you? You nodded, pulling up the corners of your mouth. Smiling.

“She’s smiling!” Mike said. In an instant, all eyes were on you. But yours… yours were on Eddie. You shivered again, unable to control the trembling of your body. You’d never been cold before. It must have had something to do with those stupid legs.

“Hey, hey, are you cold?” Eddie put his other hand on your shoulder and you nodded.

“Alright, let me, uh… get you a blanket or something.”

Reluctantly, you let go of his hand to let him find one. You watched as he frantically started opening the cupboards and drawers in the boathouse.

“She’s from the Upside Down and lives in water, how can she even be cold?” Lucas whispered. “I thought whatever lives there doesn’t like warmth.”

“Maybe it’s because she has legs now? I mean, that must have messed with her somehow,” Dustin answered.

“Right, right…”

It was then Eddie returned with a blanket and wrapped it around you. You practically leaned against him when he sat down on the sofa with you.

Dustin clapped his hands. “Alright… back to work. Steve, are you sure Jason is out of the picture?”

“I dropped him off at the hospital, he was in pretty bad shape.”

“It’s kind of ironic he was only just released today,” Mike added.

“We’ll bring over some food first thing in the morning tomorrow, and clothes for Nix.”

“Sounds good.”

You pressed yourself even further against Eddie as the group said their goodbyes and took their leave. He winced when you accidentally came in contact with the exact spot Jason had been kicking him. Your lips parted. His injuries…

“Jesus H. Christ… you gave me quite the scare back there, you know?”

You smiled apologetically.

“You’re not gonna bite me, are you?”

Quickly, you shook your head. No… of course not. And if you ever did, if he ever let you feed on him… you’d made sure it wouldn’t hurt.

“Those your, uh… gills?”

Eddie’s hand came up to stroke the bump right below your eye, concealed well by your hair. You gave him a quizzical look. Your what?

“I mean, do you breathe underwater with these?” Oh. Yes.

You nodded, opened your mouth, took a deep breath…

“Eddie…” you whispered.

The boy’s eyes widened.

“Did you just… did you just say my name?”

Your smile grew wider. “Eddie…” you croaked again, louder and more confident now.

“Shit, you can speak!”

He grinned—and it truly was the cutest sight to look at. No more delaying now. You leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands and kissed him.

Gently at first, you moved your lips against his, your eyes fluttering shut when a sensation unlike anything you had ever felt before spread throughout your entire body. He froze at first, unsure of how to react, what to do. Perhaps even taken aback or disgusted a creature from the Upside Down would kiss him…

A moan escaped your lips when he started kissing you back instead, his arms wrapping around you. It was your cue—your cue to start humming.

“What… what are you doing?” he whispered against your lips. You couldn’t allow him to break the kiss, not now.

“Healing…” you whispered back. You kept humming, moving your lips against his ferociously.

You could practically feel his frown and yet, he did not pull away. He trusted you—and that felt so empowering you were confident you would be able to walk around now.

“W-what…” Eventually, you allowed him to break the kiss. His lips were swollen and so were yours, both your breathing heavy.

Eddie felt his face first and then his stomach. There was no pain, there were no injuries left, only the scars you were unable to will out of existence.

“You… you actually healed me?”

You nodded. Little did he know that this meant that he was yours now, in a way. You didn’t give this gift freely, not to just anyone but only to the purest of souls. The Upside Down had been pure too once before Henry Creel had polluted it with violence and reckless murder.

“Thank you, Nix.”

You smiled, cuddling up to him. Perhaps ending up in this new dimension had not been so bad after all. Not with Eddie Munson by your side.

A/N: Check out my blog for more Imagines and my original novel(s)! ♥

[supernaturalscribe67]

Destiny

Words: 7,528

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Gabriel x Male!Winchester!Reader

Warning(s): Fluff, Slight Angst (if you squint), Language, Brotherly Drama/Teasing, Sexual Innuendos

Summary: (Y/N) Winchester never thought he would have to play a prominent role in the fight between Michael and Lucifer, but when Gabriel's attempt at convincing Sam and Dean to accept their destiny fails, (Y/N) is left pondering the situation at hand. What happens when Gabriel reveals the truth behind his disappearance from Heaven and his own role in the fight?

Heavily Inspired by S5.8 "Changing Channels"

Request:

Hey!! I was hoping you would be able to do this request.

It could feature hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff :)

Gabriel x Winchester!Reader

He could be trans or cis, up to you.

There was a younger Winchester brother, and with 3 full blooded Winchesters meant of course, a 3rd vessel. Gabriel's vessle. You both aren't keen on the idea of possession and end up falling for each other? Destiny had brought them together for battle but their hearts yearned for something else.

(something along those lines atleast)

:D

@genekies

A/N: I've sat here for the last ten minutes staring at the Summary because my brain is non-existent right now. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this! Sorry it's so late! I also hope you don't mind that I changed the 'younger' Winchester to a middle Winchester~ I enjoyed writing something cute and fluffy after that heavy story I posted! Feedback is appreciated!

~ Much Love!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

“Son of a bitch.” 

“It’s him. It’s Doctor Sexy.” 

“Nutcracker!”

“I’ve got genital herpes.”

(Y/N) blamed himself for this. Why he thought any hunt he and his brothers did would be normal was beyond him. When was anything the Winchesters did ever normal?

He could count on one hand the number of times he’d encountered tricksters, none of them pleasant. Still, something about this trickster was different. Slight abnormalities in the realm of possibilities, Sam, Dean, and Castiel all agreed, Castiel seeming to know more than them, but unable to voice his thoughts before being whisked away by said ‘trickster’. From there, the Winchester brothers were tossed from TV show to TV show, enduring humiliation and awkward conversation. It wasn’t until Sam was transformed into the Impala that it clicked. 

It wasn’t a trickster. It was an angel. 

That was how they ended up in an abandoned warehouse, the angel stood in the center of a ring of Holy Fire. (Y/N) tried to hide the exhaustion on his face that resulted from their hectic escapades. What he would kill to go back to their motel, crawl under the scratchy covers, and go to sleep. 

“Where’s you get the Holy Oil?” The angel asked, a small smirk playing on the corner of his lips. 

“Well, I guess you could say we pulled it out of Sam’s ass,” Dean replied, straight-faced. 

Sam clenched his jaw and sent a death glare towards him. (Y/N) snickered, earning him the same glare. He pressed his lips together, mumbled a faint ‘sorry’ under his breath, and turned his attention back towards the wannabe trickster. 

The smirk he had vanished. “Where’d I screw up?” He asked. 

“You didn’t,” Sam shook his head. “Nobody gets a jump on Cas like you did.” 

“It was the way you talked about Armageddon,” Dean explained. 

“Meaning?” The angel furrowed his brows. 

“Well, call it personal experience, but nobody gets that angry unless they’re talking about their own family.” 

The angel looked away and lowered his head, a silent confirmation of their suspicions. 

“So, which one are you?” Sam cocked his head to the side. “Grumpy, Sneezy, or Douchey?” 

(Y/N) bit the inside of his cheeks, lowering his head to hide the small smile that appeared. Despite the gravity of the situation, he had to admit that Sam’s question was a little funny. He blamed it on him being tired. He was quick to erase the expression off his face before lifting his head. The angel’s gaze shifted over to Sam, and he hesitated for a moment.

“Gabriel, okay? They call me Gabriel.” 

“The archangel?” Sam asked. 

“Guilty.” 

“Okay, Gabriel. How does an archangel become a trickster?” Dean questioned. 

Gabriel shifted. “I consider it my own, private Witness Protection. I skipped out of Heaven, got a face transplant, and carved out my own little corner of the world. Until you three screwed it up,” his tone was full of irritation. 

(Y/N), Sam, and Dean shared a glance, almost as if communicating telepathically with one another - something they had become accustomed to growing up. While they knew significant details about the conflict between the archangels Michael and Lucifer, it seemed, to them, that the situation ran a lot deeper than it originally appeared. 

“So, boys, now what?” Gabriel’s voice broke them out of their trance. “Are we just going to stare at each other for the rest of eternity?” 

Dean licked his lips. ‘Well, first of all, you’re going to bring Cas back from wherever you stashed him.” 

“Oh, am I?”

“Yeah, or we’re going to dunk you in some Holy Oil and deep-fry ourselves an archangel.” 

Gabriel clenched his jaw, looking over at Sam, then at (Y/N). All of them shared the same serious expression. Poking his tongue into his cheek, he raised a hand and snapped his fingers. Shuffling could be heard behind the trio as they turned their heads to see a disheveled Castiel. His hair was more ruffled than usual, and a small cut ran across the bridge of his nose. Blood was splattered on the collar of his trenchcoat. He stumbled slightly. 

“Cas, you okay?” (Y/N) asked. 

“I’m fine,” Castiel replied, his icy gaze locked on Gabriel. “Hello, Gabriel.” 

Gabriel lowered his hand, crossed his arms over his chest, and smiled tightly. “Hey, bro. How’s the search for Daddy going? Let me guess. Awful,” Gabriel’s tone was harsh. 

The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. It was obvious that there was more going on in Heaven than the Winchesters were led to believe. Multiple sides mean multiple stories. Who knows what really happened? 

“Alright, let’s get out of here. Sam, (Y/N)?” Dean slowly started to step towards the exit. 

Sam was the first to move, while (Y/N) seemed hesitant. In the end, he, too, turned his back on Gabriel and made his way towards his brothers. Castiel soon followed. 

“No,” Gabriel muttered. “Okay…hey, guys, so…” he stumbled over his words. “So what, huh? You’re just, you’re just gonna leave me here forever?” 

When the group reached the door, they all turned back to him. 

“No,” Dean began. “We’re not, because we don’t screw with people the way you do. And, for the record, this isn’t about some prize fight between your brothers or some destiny that can’t be stopped. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family.” 

Gabriel opened his mouth, as if to object, but stopped himself. He lowered his head in shame, turning his back to them. Wordlessly, Dean looked back, spotting a fire alarm on the wall. He easily broke the glass surrounding the alarm and pulled the handle. A shrill, faded sound echoed within the broken building. As Gabriel looked up, the aged sprinkler system burst open, showering him with cold water. Gabriel gazed at them, his face filled with defeat. 

“Don’t say I’ve never done anything for you,” Dean called out over the sound of the alarm. 

With that, Sam, Dean, and Castiel turned their backs one last time on Gabriel, walking out of the building. (Y/N), however, stayed put, his eyes locked onto Gabriel’s. He studied the look of hurt on his face, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt. A part of him wanted to say something, to turn around and provide him with some type of comfort. They didn’t know what Gabriel was going through, nor what had caused him to leave Heaven in the first place. Perhaps, all he needed was someone to be there. To allow him to be heard. (Y/N) could relate to that feeling. Alas, as the ring of Holy Fire began to dissipate, over the blaring sound of the alarm, he could hear the faint shout of his older brother calling out his name. (Y/N) looked at the warehouse door, the breeze from the early morning shifting his wetting hair, then back to Gabriel. For a moment, he cast an apologetic look his way before he, swiftly, left the building. 

*~*

A couple of weeks after the incident with Gabriel, (Y/N) couldn’t seem to keep his thoughts at bay. Although his brothers had all since left the interaction behind them, refocusing their attention on their odd hunting jobs, (Y/N) couldn’t shake the reminder of the expression on Gabriel’s face. He had taken the time to carefully consider what Gabriel had been going through, or what he had been through before he had left Heaven. Sure, he wasn’t aware of the extent of it all, but he could sure sympathize with how it felt to be stuck between his brothers during their spats. Sam and Dean never threatened the sanctity of Heaven over their problems, but still. 

(Y/N) had taken many walks since then, because sleep had been so easily unobtainable. On nights when Sam and Dean slept soundly on their motel room beds - or couch, depending on who lost in the coin toss - (Y/N) would slink out of the room into the night. Alternatively, in the morning, if sleep didn’t come after the first walk, he would go on another, ultimately stopping for breakfast on his way back to the motel to appease his brothers. 

Sam and Dean were none the wiser. 

On those walks, his mind would always shift to Gabriel and the predicament he was in. In a way, he disagreed with what Dean had said to Gabriel. But, with everything that was said by Gabriel, himself, he partially agreed with it as well. Why was Gabriel so adamant about Sam and Dean allowing Lucifer and Michael to take possession of them for a fight that he wasn’t even willing to fight himself? He felt so in the dark about the whole debacle. Although he wasn’t directly involved in it, he was still interested to know what the fate of his brothers could be. It was thoughts and questions like those that kept his mind racing in the early hours of the morning, making him unable to get an adequate amount of sleep. 

That night was no different. The three of them had traveled to a town along the East Coast, following the clues of a possible Wendigo. The case had just started, and the interviews and clues left much to be desired. They weren’t even close to pinpointing the approximate area in the nearby woodland where it could reside. Sam and Dean were running thin, and (Y/N) was no help. Not with the way his mind had been racing lately. It wasn’t like he could help it, though. He tried, he did, and a part of him couldn’t see how Sam and Dean were able to concentrate whilst everything was going on in Heaven. He had always envied them for their sense of focus, something he lacked greatly at times. When he started the walks, clearing his mind was his initial goal, but going out on his own, in the dead of night, only seemed to make his thoughts louder. 

The town was small, and barely had much of a park, just some cheap playground equipment that looked as if it needed to be updated and a small trail. (Y/N) was thankful for the benches that were laid along the path. Despite the park’s size, it had a beautiful view; a full panoramic of the deep, dark ocean past craggy cliffs, cut off by a steel fence. The ocean was loud and, despite the distance from the land to the sea, mist sprayed (Y/N)’s face faintly, painting his features with minuscule water droplets. He had worn a jacket that night. Even though it was surprisingly hot during the day, as soon as the sun dropped, the temperatures did as well. 

(Y/N) had been sat on the bench for close to an hour. If he had to guess, it was nearly midnight. Not once had he been able to keep Gabriel out of his mind. Gabriel, the fight, Sam, and Dean, all took turns at the forefront of his brain, but Gabriel won most of the time. He always drifted to the sad, kicked puppy-dog look he had before he left. He couldn’t imagine what Gabriel had to go through. (Y/N) thought Sam and Dean were impossible to be with all the time, but he couldn’t fathom being near Michael and Lucifer as much as Gabriel must have. He must have been quite burnt out. 

“Do you mind if I sit here?” A voice jerked (Y/N) from his train of thought. 

(Y/N) jumped, eyes wide as he looked towards the direction of the voice. Stood, about a foot away from the bench, was Gabriel. His expression was soft, his brown hair partially damp, the locks illuminated slightly by the nearby street lamp. Once his heart rate began to return to normal, (Y/N) nodded and gestured towards the empty seat next to him. 

“Sure,” he mumbled. 

With a short nod, Gabriel shuffled over and sat down, leaning against the back of the bench. His legs were slightly spread and his hands were clasped together in his lap. For a moment, the two of them sat in silence, listening to the sound of the crashing waves from below. Even though Gabriel had done so much to the Winchesters as a part of his trickster ‘Witness Protection’, (Y/N) didn’t feel any resentment towards him, nor did he feel agitation, even with his proximity. A part of him thought he should be, that was how Dean would react, at least. Shouldn’t he be at least a little bit pissed? Perhaps it was the weeks of thinking, working the idea into his head that he and Gabriel could, potentially, have more in common than he originally thought. It could be that he was more forgiving than his brother. In the end, (Y/N) chalked it up to him being a great judge of character. 

“How did you find me?” (Y/N) broke the silence. 

“What?” Gabriel asked. 

“How did you find me? These symbols, or whatever, Cas put on my ribs were supposed to stop angels from being able to find me. Or did he just tattoo my ribs for nothing?” 

Gabriel let out a faint chuckle and shook his head. “I admit, you were hard to find. All I did, though, was follow the sound of your prayers. They were quieter than most, but they were still noticeable.” 

(Y/N) looked over at Gabriel, confused. “Prayers? I didn’t pray to you.” 

“I guess not technically. I know that wasn’t your intention half the time, but, every time you thought of me, asked those questions, made those statements, it was as if you did.” 

(Y/N) pursed his lips and gave a faint nod. “I see…”

They were, once again, engulfed in silence as they stared out onto the water. No one said anything. Surprisingly, it was peaceful.

“I guess I should be asking why you found me. Why are you here, Gabriel?” (Y/N) asked. 

Gabriel hesitated for a moment, fumbling with his fingers. “Look, I’m not good at this sort of thing, but…” he trailed. “I thought I should come here and apologize. For everything.” 

(Y/N) looked over at Gabriel as he placed his hands into his jacket pockets and leaned back against the bench. “Shouldn’t you be apologizing to Sam and Dean, too?” 

Gabriel snorted. “Are you kidding? Those two would probably stab me before I even had the chance to say anything.” 

(Y/N) smirked. “I guess you’re right. The fact that you were practically hounding them to accept being Michael and Lucifer’s vessels doesn’t help your case either.” 

“Yeah, I realized that I probably went about it the wrong way.” 

“Probably?” 

“Okay, I definitely went about it the wrong way.” 

“That’s putting it lightly.” (Y/N) mumbled. “Why the fight, Gabriel? I mean, why now?” 

Gabriel shrugged his shoulders. “Michael and Luci have been going at it for centuries. Even before this fight, they were at each other’s throats half the time.” he began to rub his fingers together. “But, this fight…it wasn’t originally supposed to only be those two.” 

(Y/N) furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?” 

“Well,” Gabriel stuttered before he stood up. Slowly, he began to pace back and forth in front of (Y/N), looking between the ground and his hands. “You know what it’s like, right? Your brothers are arguing about the dumbest things and they’ve been going at it for a while, getting a little carried away, so you have to step in and, um,” 

“Be the mediator?” 

“Yeah! You have to try and calm them down so they don’t kill each other?” 

“Well, yeah, I’ve had to do that plenty of times with Sam and Dean.” 

“Right. Back then, I had to do the same thing with Michael and Luci. Sometimes it worked, and other times, not so much. With this fight, that’s what I was supposed to do.” 

“Wait, this fight that they want to use Sam and Dean for? How’re you supposed to mediate that?” 

“I was just supposed to make sure they didn’t actually kill each other. Try to get them to talk it out. I’ve always been good at that, so it would only make sense that I would take a crack at it this go around. However, since they would be at their full power in their vessels, the last thing that needed to happen was for them to turn on me, kill me, and then each other. So, to make sure I had enough power, I, also, have to have a vessel.” 

Gabriel stopped pacing in front of him and finally faced him, his hands together in front of him. (Y/N) stared at him intently, eyes narrowed in concentration. It was as if Gabriel could see the gears working in his mind. If Michael needed a vessel, which was Dean, and Lucifer needed a vessel, which was Sam, then, that meant…

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. “Am I your vessel?” He breathed. 

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!” Gabriel smirked, although it wasn’t as confident as the one he had when he was covered by his trickster persona. 

(Y/N)’s mouth sat agape. He was gobsmacked. His lips moved up and down as he tried to form words, but his mind nor mouth would work. It all made sense, though. Why would Sam and Dean be the only vessels? Why had he never considered that he, too, was destined to be one? It was clear as glass, yet, the thought never crossed his mind. 

“You know, when you think about it, it kind of makes sense that you’re my vessel. I mean, you’re the mediator, I’m the mediator. You’re the middle child, I’m practically the middle child. There are, actually, a lot of similarities between you and me. So, it was a great pick,” Gabriel rambled, placing his hands on his hips.

(Y/N) help his hand up. “Gabriel, just…stop.” 

Gabriel looked down and cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he pursed his lips. 

(Y/N) sat there and attempted to wrap his head around the whole situation. His thoughts were foggy and the front of his head was starting to pound. He reached his hands up and began to massage his temples. 

“So, what you’re saying,” (Y/N) let out a breathy chuckle. “Is that you, the archangel Gabriel, are supposed to use me as a mediator for your two power-hungry brothers who, may I remind you, are also archangels?” 

Slowly, Gabriel nodded. “Basically.” 

“And you think this is a good idea?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“What?” 

Gabriel sighed. “Look,” He returned to his spot on the bench next to (Y/N), his body now facing him. “The times when my mediation did work was when they had their smaller fights. Little bickers here and there. When Michael and Luci are really, really mad at each other, nothing can get between them. So, most likely, what would happen is I would need to get involved in the fight to stop them.” 

“Oh, God,” (Y/N) grumbled and placed his face into his hands.

“But, believe me, that is the last thing I want to do. I mean, Michael and Luci, they’re both strong on their own, but, if they were to team up against me for trying to stop them, even with you as my vessel, I don’t stand a chance. It would be two against one.” 

(Y/N) just nodded, running his hands down his face, his gaze returning to the cool, pounding waves. A chill ran down his spine. He hadn’t realized how cold he had gotten, what with the mix of wind and misty air.

“Why are you telling me this now?” He asked quietly. “Why wasn’t I told any of this before?” 

“Well, when I went off the grid, everyone just assumed that it was my way of backing out of the fight. In a way, I guess they were right.” 

“And back at the warehouse? Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Because I still had no intention of joining the fight. However, after what Dean had said to me…” Gabriel shook his head. “I realized that he was right. I am a coward. I tried to push your brothers into accepting their roles as vessels because I want this fight to be done and over with. I just wish the fight didn’t have to happen. I figured it would be wrong if I didn’t tell you now. You deserve to know.” 

“Well, I appreciate that. And, for the record, I don’t want this fight to happen either. The last thing I want is my brothers to get involved in something that has nothing to do with them.”

“The fight’s gonna happen one way or another, and I thought getting your brothers to go along would be the best way to go about it. Once I listened to your prayers, though, I realized how it would affect you. I know you wouldn’t want to lose either one of your brothers, even though they can be assholes sometimes.” 

(Y/N) snorted. “Like you’re one to talk.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, unlike your brothers, mine can be caring and nice when they want to be.” 

“Believe it or not, Michael and Luci both have the capability of being nice! I witnessed it firsthand.” 

“Bullshit!” 

“It’s not! Granted, they were a whole lot nicer when they were fledglings, kind of got a little rocky as they got older, but they could still be nice!” 

“Wait, wait, wait, fledglings?” 

“Yeah.”

“What’re fledglings?” 

“Newborn angels.”

“So…baby angels?” 

“In a sense,” Gabriel shrugged. A mischievous smirk then appeared at the corner of his lips. “Do you want to hear some embarrassing stories about when Michael and Luci were younger?” 

“Of course I do,” (Y/N) sat back, turning his body to face Gabriel as well. 

“Okay, but, in return, you have to tell me some embarrassing stories about your brothers.”

(Y/N) bit his lip as he contemplated the offer. Finally, he smirked. “Deal.” 

For the next while, Gabriel and (Y/N) went back and forth, sharing their embarrassing stories from their abnormal families. They joked, laughed, and, overall, had a good time. Not only did it lighten the mood from the bombshell Gabriel had dropped, but it allowed them to grasp a basic understanding of their past and present lives. 

There were a few things (Y/N) learned throughout their conversation. One; Gabriel and his brothers shared some scary similarities with the Winchesters in regards to mannerisms and attitudes. Two; Gabriel could talk for a millenia if he was given the opportunity. And three; (Y/N) felt oddly calm around Gabriel. It hadn’t even struck him how easily Gabriel was able to shift the conversation as smoothly as he did. (Y/N) wasn’t too sure how he could feel that way around him. As they sat there and talked, after everything that was said, and after everything that happened with the warehouse incident - he’ll never forget the nutcracker - he couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of comfort around him. There was something about Gabriel that filled (Y/N) with a sense of peace and belonging, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it as to why that was. 

It wasn’t like he was complaining, though. 

They talked until the moon sat near the far end of the sky. Unbeknownst to them, the two had begun to scoot closer to one another as the conversation continued, getting to the point where their knees and shoulders were touching. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward. Neither of them pulled away out of instinct. It felt right. It felt natural. 

Gabriel droned on and on about, yet, another story when Lucifer was a young angel. He seemed to have more stories about him than he did of Michael. (Y/N) was quite the opposite. He had more stories about Dean than he did with Sam. Both of them laughed as Gabriel tried his best to continue. 

“So - so Dad got angry because Lucifer kept letting the bugs out of their sanctuary, and -” Gabriel looked over at (Y/N), and his smile vanished. 

(Y/N) glanced up at him, noticing the change of demeanor instantly. His smile, too, disappeared. “Is something wrong?” 

As he kept his eye on him, Gabriel reached up and gently brushed his thumb against (Y/N)’s bottom lip. (Y/N) felt his cheeks heat up and his brows furrow in confusion. 

“Your lips are blue,” Gabriel stated. He glanced up at the sky and his brows shot up. “I am so sorry. I didn’t realize we had been out here so long.” Gabriel sat up. 

“How long how we been out here?” (Y/N) dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. 

3:27 AM

“Oh shit,” he mumbled as he quickly stood up. 

His legs and ass were completely numb, causing him to sway at the rapid movement. Gabriel was by his side in an instant, hands on his shoulders to steady him. They had been out together for, close to, four hours. No wonder (Y/N)’s lips were blue. He shivered, teeth chattering lightly. Once (Y/N) was able to stand on his own, Gabriel took off his jacket and draped it over (Y/N)’s shoulders. (Y/N) shook his head. 

“Oh, no, Gabriel, it’s okay. I just need to get back to the motel.” He stuttered tiredly. 

“I’m the reason you were out here for so long. Consider it a, um, token of my appreciation for talking to me,” Gabriel smiled sweetly.

(Y/N) returned the smile. “Well, thank you for keeping me company.” 

“Let me take you back to the motel.” 

“No. If Sam and Dean see you, they’ll kill you and then me.”

“Then I won’t let them see me.”

Without another word, Gabriel reached up and pressed his index and middle fingers against (Y/N)’s forehead. (Y/N) inhaled shakily and closed his eyes. One second, he was standing in the park, then, the next, he and Gabriel were standing in front of the Winchester’s motel room. He breathed a sigh of relief once he saw the faded numbers etched onto the door. 

“Thank you,” he smiled and retrieved the key from his pocket. 

“Anytime. And, uh, if you ever feel the need to talk again under better weather conditions, feel free to pray. When the prayers are sent directly to me, it’s a lot easier for me to hear.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Now go warm up.”

(Y/N) flashed Gabriel one last smile as he turned the key to the room and opened the door. Gabriel vanished. 

Moonlight pooled in through the cracked door as (Y/N) crept into the room. He felt the warmth flood his face and hands as he entered. Despite the heavy jacket he had gone out with, having spent hours in the windy, misty park, he was bound to get cold eventually. He didn’t think he would get that cold, though.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see Sam sleeping soundly on his stomach, face nuzzled against the cheap pillow, and Dean sprawled out on the couch, legs and arms spread in uncomfortable positions that he would undoubtedly complain about the next day, mouth slightly open, and drool coating his chin and pillow. (Y/N) was thankful for his stealth ability.

Slowly, he made his way over to the unoccupied bed and crawled underneath the covers. Not bothering to change his clothes or take off his shoes, he nestled into the thick - yet somehow extremely thin - comforter. His eyes closed as soon as his head hit the pillow.

*~*

That was the best night’s sleep he had gotten in ages. 

Well, it would have been, had he not been awoken by a flying pillow to the face.

(Y/N) groaned as he opened his eyes ever so slightly. The sunlight beamed in through the window, caressing his skin, and he hated it. He glanced tiredly in the direction that the pillow came from and found Dean with an amused grin spread across his lips.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Dean greeted.

“Fuck off,” (Y/N) grunted as he grabbed the pillow and chucked it lazily back at him. He missed terribly. 

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Sam teased as he sat a cup of steaming coffee on the nightstand next to (Y/N).

“Thanks,” he mumbled and sat up. “And I just got a pillow thrown at my face, am I supposed to jump for joy and sing Kumbaya?” 

“Are you sure it’s the pillow and has nothing to do with you getting back so late?” Dean quirked a brow.

(Y/N) went to reach for the coffee cup, but stopped himself. He glanced at Dean, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. “How do you know about that?” 

“Well, one, you’re wearing the exact same thing you were wearing yesterday, plus you wore your shoes to bed. Two, I heard you getting back last night,”

“Bullshit. You were passed out.”

“Do you realize how loud you stumbled in? I’m surprised Sammy didn’t wake up because of it. My third point, though,” Dean pointed down to his brother’s chest. “That’s not your jacket. So…did you get lucky?” 

(Y/N) looked down at himself and his brows raised. He was still wearing Gabriel’s jacket. He had been so tired and cold last night that he had completely forgotten to take it off or even give it back. He reached up and played with the collar gently. He had to remember to thank Gabriel for giving it to him.

Oh, wait, prayers! Thank you for the jacket, Gabriel!

“Well?” Dean pressed.

“Huh?” (Y/N) looked over at him. 

“Did you get lucky?” 

(Y/N) snorted. “If I got lucky, do you think I would be here right now?”

“Not unless it was bad.”

“Would that mean I still got ‘lucky’ if it was bad? What kind of luck is that?” 

“You’re dodging the question.”

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “No, Dean, I didn’t get lucky.”

“Then who’d you meet?” Sam asked.

“Why does it matter?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Because you’re smiling,” Dean pointed out, taking a sip of his coffee. “And you don’t smile like that normally. It’s kind of freaky.”

“Oh, fuck off, Dean,”

(Y/N) hadn’t even realized he had been smiling, but he could hear it in his voice. Dean was right, it had been ages since he had smiled like that. His cheeks were starting to hurt. He reached over, took a sip of his coffee, then put it down. He stood up from his spot on the bed and stretched his aching muscles.

“So,” Dean pursed his lips. “Who was it?”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you, Dean?”

“Nope,” Dean popped.

(Y/N) shook his head. “It was just this guy that I met at the bar. He bought me a drink, we sat and talked and, when the bar closed, we went to the nearest park and continued our talk.”

Dean’s smirk faltered and was replaced with a frown. “That’s it? You just…talked?” 

“Yeah,” (Y/N) shrugged.

“You’re more boring than Sam,”

“Hey!” Sam exclaimed.

“What do you want me to say, Dean? ‘I found this guy at the bar, we went to the park, I gave him head, he gave me a twenty, said ‘no homo’, and walked away’?” (Y/N) asked. 

“Well, that would have been a hell of a lot more entertaining than ‘we just talked’.”

(Y/N) waved him off. “Whatever,” he mumbled, then kicked his shoes off.

Sam took a sip of his coffee and cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t get too comfortable. We’re gonna go look for that Wendigo.”

“I’m taking a shower before we go, so…” (Y/N) stuck his tongue out at Sam.

Sam smirked and shook his head as (Y/N) gathered some of his clothes from his duffel bag. Without another word, he vanished into the bathroom.

*~*

(Y/N) was sick for a week after that. As it turns out, cold air and wet hair don’t necessarily mix well. At first, he tried to push through it, but fatigue and a sore throat caught up to him and left him on research duty for the duration of the Wendigo hunt. During that time, whenever Sam and Dean were out looking for clues, leaving him alone in the stuffy motel room, he would pray to Gabriel. Gabriel would be quick to respond.

The two would sit and talk for hours, idle chit-chat here and there, and would always seem to dance around the topic of the fight one way or another. Those talks continued well after (Y/N) felt better and the Wendigo hunt concluded. (Y/N) resumed his nightly walks, and Gabriel would accompany him. In the mornings, when Sam and Dean would occasionally catch onto (Y/N)’s disappearing acts, he would play it off as a spontaneous trip to the local bar scene, fabricating stories about meeting a dreamy man he would talk to or go back to his place. It wasn’t a complete lie, so he didn’t feel as bad when he told them. 

As the months went on, (Y/N) could feel himself growing fonder of Gabriel. It was a strong feeling. Is that what love felt like? He could only assume. Yet, the feeling was more than that. He felt connected to him in a much stronger sense of the word. A spiritual sense, perhaps? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the cause of those feelings, but the last thing he was going to do was fight himself on them, despite how obvious it was that his brothers would disapprove of his relationship with Gabriel. That’s what secrets were for. He had gone long enough without telling them, what’s a couple more months or years?

Whenever they were together, (Y/N) felt whole, as if a lost piece of a puzzle he didn’t even know he had found its way to him. When he was with his brothers, or by himself, he found his mind constantly shifting to thoughts of Gabriel. Of what they would talk about, of Gabriel’s smile, of the way his stomach would turn whenever they stood or sat close to one another. He would crave his presence, desperate to hear the sound of his voice. It was killing him, slowly, from the inside out, and he knew if he didn’t say anything soon, he would combust. He had to tell Gabriel his feelings.

One thing he loved about small towns was the lack of artificial lights. Sure, there were dull street lamps scattered around that looked as if they needed to be changed years ago, but the absence of skyscrapers and people, overall, meant not much was needed to illuminate the roads. Locals knew them like the back of their hand anyway. With the minimal light, almost anywhere in town, you could see the stars that decorated the night sky. If you wanted, you could pick out each constellation. Orion’s Belt and the Big Dipper were rather prominent that night.

There were several smaller parks in town, but the biggest sat in the middle of downtown. It wasn’t used as a children’s area as much as a casual gathering ground. (Y/N) could imagine dogs in the grass and elderly couples walking arm-in-arm during the daylight hours. By night, it was abandoned, the distant sound of country music playing from the only local bar. It was the perfect place for him and Gabriel to meet.

They sat on a bench in the middle of the park, heads tilted back as they stared at the stars. Their sides and legs were pressed together, and, for the first time in a while, they said nothing. Normally, their meetings were filled with lively conversation from the moment they saw each other to the moment they parted. (Y/N) had to wonder if Gabriel could tell that he wanted to have a serious discussion. Perhaps he had a lot on his mind. Or, perhaps, Gabriel was too busy reading (Y/N)’s to say anything. Regardless, they had been sat there for close to half an hour without as much as a single word to each other. (Y/N) knew just sitting there wasn’t going to do any good. He had to bite the bullet and say something. 

“Gabriel?” He started, his voice coming out small and quiet.

Gabriel hummed. “Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,”

(Y/N) hesitated. “Well, first of all, I just wanted to say that I like spending time with you.” He began to fiddle with his fingers. “And I don’t want what I’m about to ask to make our meetings stop.”

“Honestly, I think, at this point, the only thing that you can ask to make our meetings stop is ‘Hey, can our meetings stop?’.”

(Y/N) chuckled lightly. “Gabe, I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he smirked.

“Well, um…” he paused. “Do you ever feel like we’re connected in other ways?”

Gabriel furrowed his brows. He turned his body to face (Y/N), rested his elbow on the back of the bench, and placed his cheek into his hand. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. I mean, it feels like…more.”

Gabriel studied (Y/N)’s face, noticing his lack of eye contact. He stayed quiet for a moment, and (Y/N) could feel the anxiety building inside of him. He knew he did a piss poor job at explaining what he meant, but it was the best he could come up with. Slowly, Gabriel smirked.

“You have a crush on me, don’t you?” He teased.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened and the heat rose to his cheeks. He glanced over at Gabriel, then back down at his lap. 

“I, well…I’m not…I- that’s not the point, okay!?” (Y/N) shook his head. “The point is that it doesn’t feel like just a crush to me. It feels like an even deeper connection than that. Like something about our souls and- nevermind, this just sounds stupid,” his shoulders deflated in defeat.

Gabriel waved his hands and shook his head. “Hey, hey, it’s not stupid, alright? I get what you’re saying. You feel as if we’re connected by something other than you just being my vessel.”

(Y/N) nodded and let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, exactly.”

“I feel it, too.”

“You do?”

“I mean, yeah,” Gabriel folded his hands in his lap. “I felt that when we first saw each other, even before the warehouse. Then, everything with your brothers happened, and we met again, and, still,  I felt that connection.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought I was looking too hard into it. I started thinking that, maybe, the connection was all in my head. That it was, truly, just our connection by you being my vessel. When Dean said what he did about me being too afraid to face my family, I thought no one would understand my point of view on the fight. What I’ve had to go through being related to Michael and Lucifer. Then, you started to pray to me, and I knew that you understood me. That’s what made me come find you in the first place. Once we were alone, I felt this sense of…peace. I hate to admit it, but I feel like I can barely go a single day without wanting to see you. Without needing to see you. I knew it was more at that point.”

(Y/N)’s eyes were on Gabriel as he listened intently to what he was saying. He shook his head. “I feel the same way. It’s almost as if, I don’t know, I can’t breathe when you’re not around.”

“Well, please don’t stop on my account.”

“Stop it, we’re having a serious moment,” (Y/N) slapped his arm.

“Sorry, sorry,” Gabriel smirked. “I mean, as cliche as it sounds, it feels, almost as if we were meant for each other, right? Like we were meant to be together? Almost as if it was more than you being my vessel that bought us together.”

Gabriel reached over and grabbed (Y/N)’s hand, rubbing the side of it gently with his thumb. (Y/N) looked into Gabriel’s eyes, and he felt his heart soar. He reached up and caressed his cheek before they both leaned in, their lips fitting together perfectly in a sweet, loving kiss. Their eyes closed, and they both melted into a deep, sensual embrace. Almost immediately, all of the stress and worry seemingly melted away, replaced with a sense of belonging. A sense of closeness.

When they pulled back, they looked into each other’s eyes once more. A small smile creased the corner of (Y/N)’s lips.

“You’re right, it is pretty cheesy.” He whispered, his thumb tracing circles around Gabriel’s cheekbone.

Gabriel cocked a brow. “I thought we were having a serious conversation. Why do you get to make quips?”

“It’s kind of hard not to when I’m around you.” (Y/N) pressed his forehead against Gabriel’s.

Gabriel chuckled. “I guess I’m rubbing off on you, aren’t I?” He moved his hands to (Y/N)’s hips.

“I don’t see that as a bad thing.”

They sat together and enjoyed the peaceful quiet of their embrace. (Y/N) never felt more relaxed in his entire life, and he wanted to savor every moment he had with Gabriel.

Then, his mind started to drift. Drift to the fight, the battle between Michael and Lucifer, and to Sam and Dean. Gabriel had done such a good job at keeping him distracted from all the chaos that surrounded him that he hadn’t even had a chance to consider what could happen with the fight now that he and Gabriel were involved. Neither of them wanted to participate in the fight, but what would happen if they didn’t? Who would win? Would he lose one, or possibly both, of his brothers? If they did get involved in the fight, was there a possibility that he and Gabriel would lose each other? Did they even stand a chance to win against Michael and Lucifer if things were to turn ugly? Was there a chance that he could lose Gabriel even without being in the fight itself?

Gabriel reached a hand up and ran his fingers through (Y/N)’s hair soothingly. He pressed a small kiss to the corner of his lips. “Your thoughts are being really loud, Sugarplum.” He whispered. 

(Y/N) broke from his trance and shook his head lightly. “I’m sorry, it’s just…with the fight,” (Y/N) looked away briefly. “I don’t want to lose Sam and Dean, but now that I have you, I don’t want to lose you either.”

Gabriel gave him a sympathetic look as he pulled him close. “I know. This whole thing is one giant mess. I wish none of it had to happen. But I’m going to be with you every step of the way, I promise.”

(Y/N) shook his head. “You can’t promise me that. Knock on wood.”

“What?” Gabriel chuckled.

“I don’t want you to have just jinxed yourself, now knock on wood.”

Gabriel smirked as he rasped his knuckles against the wooden bench three times. “Better?”

“A little,” (Y/N) mumbled and nuzzled his cheek against Gabriel’s shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll feel better until this fight is over.”

Gabriel wrapped his arms tightly around him. “How about this? I promise to do everything in my power to keep you distracted. That way, you’re not too stressed out.”

(Y/N) pursed his lips in thought. “Not too distracted, though. I had practically forgotten about the fight until now, and I still need to stay on my toes.”

“How about I distract you just enough to keep your mind off of it?”

“That sounds perfect.”

“Well then, Sugarplum, how do you propose I keep you distracted?”

“You can start by kissing me again,”

“Oh, I can do more than kissing,” Gabriel mused in a suggestive tone and wiggled his brows.

(Y/N) slapped his chest. “Perv,” he grumbled. “Let’s just start with kissing.”

“Taking it slow, I like your style,” Gabriel nuzzled his nose against (Y/N)’s.

(Y/N) smiled widely. “Then shut up and kiss me already.”

Without another word, Gabriel leaned down, capturing (Y/N)’s lips in a deep kiss. Just like that, all of his problems dissipated, and it felt as if he was floating. The park didn’t exist anymore, nor the stumbling locals who left the bar periodically. There were no stars, no more beautiful night sky. The only two things that existed were Gabriel and (Y/N). They were complete. They were strong. They were one. It felt as if nothing in Heaven, Hell, or in between could tear them apart. 

And everything was as it should be.

[dostoyevsky-official]

I'm aware of how swing states work. People across the entire WORLD are aware of how American swing states work, even though we shouldn't have to be, because your country has truly outsized power and we have to watch your elections like hawks.

It's not just about your individual vote, and relying on condescending "mY vOtE dIdn'T MATTER" bullshit is just a misdirection and you know it. It's about spouting & spreading shitty dangerous rhetoric and participating in the disenfranchisement of your own rights. Apathy and disengagement is what your right-wing populists WANT from your country's voters. You helped them spread that, and that's on you.

You really think you're going to do any better at direct action and community organizing if you're willing to hide behind the 'I'm just one person and my actions don't matter' line? That's all of activism, sorry. Being just one person who still gets up and takes action even if the odds are stacked.

My family is from a country that has had voting as an option taken away from them. You can be as condescending as you like, and it doesn't change the fact that the rest of the world is looking at Americans who threw away their votes with disgust.

you don't understand how american elections work and you don't understand what happened last night. you need to familiarize yourself with swing states. you need to learn what they teach in fifth grade here about the electoral college. if this is how you closely follow american elections, you were badly misled by someone.

i can show you any number of electoral maps, the vote distributions, the swings, the irrelevant stein voters in wisconsin, but none of this is getting through to people making this argument. it's a shame. there were 47,741 write-in votes in nyc, 1.85% of the vote. think about that number. these were not "disenfranchised voters" but rather people expressing their dissatisfaction through the ballot box.

i'm deeply flattered that you think my posts and follower count, which couldn't pack an opera house, had any effect, but they didn't (otherwise i'd take credit for NYC props2-5 failing, which passed). i don't think any posters on a moribund, embarrassing website had any effect. streamers like aiden ross did; joe rogan—why did kamala refuse to sit with him?—did. you and others are frustrated about the results, you're looking for an answer, you're angry, i get it. but this explanation, if taken seriously (protest voters in safe states cost the election), is one of the worst conclusions you can arrive at, somewhere in the ballpark of "Peanut's martyrdom swung the vote;" you're not even considering what the candidate said (or didn't) that caused people to protest vote. we are absolutely doomed if people run with this, and, mercifully, it's so stupid that it won't be taken up by the democratic party. they will more readily blame protest voters in michigan than those who voted like i did.

you need to realize it's apocalyptic if this is your key takeaway, and that your political insight into america is worthless if you stick by it. please channel your frustration into something more productive.

feel free to send me more votescolding asks, but i won't be answering any of them. this is my last word

[synthetickitsune]

A Prince and His Flower ✧ k.sy

Pairing: Prince!Hoshi x reader Genre: fluff, royalty au/arranged marriage au Summary: You know that love is something to be overlooked for the sake of politics, but maybe you wish your upcoming marriage with Soonyoung was more than a practical affair. You try not to get your hopes up, not very successfully, but who could blame you when the prince seems as smitten with you as you are with him? Word count: 2k A/N: based on this imagine by @imagine-svt; I'm still not happy about how this turned out but I've already rewritten and edited this twice and I just love the idea so much and I've tried ㅠㅠ

It was arguably pretty random when Soonyoung asked you, hours earlier - and in hindsight it seems important to stress it was also only hours before the ball - about your favorite flower.

It was cute too. The way he tried to be nonchalant, but his cheeks soon had that pinkish tint to them as he went through the small talk he wrapped the question in. His hum was thoughtful, nod slow, as he took in your answer. It was… strange.  

Then again, Soonyoung is like that sometimes. You’ve learned it’s better to just humor him. He’s too stubborn and when he starts pouting, your heart and your will get too weak to resist him. It’s unfair. Honestly, you don’t understand how the future king can be so lovable and carefree when he’s chatting with you and yet so unyielding and wise during diplomatic meetings. How are you supposed to stay rational and unaffected when faced with that?

Sometimes you wonder if he had a say in choosing his future partner. He isn’t the type to let others dictate what his life is going to be like - well, at least not all of its aspects. Being a crown prince, his hands are pretty much tied. Of course he can’t live his life as he wants to, but from all that he’s told you, he doesn’t seem to mind the responsibility, and is preparing for his future role dutifully. At the same time, instead of horse riding and shooting ducks and whatnot, he demanded to learn how to dance. You found the idea ridiculous when you first heard about it - or rather the image of young Soonyoung stomping his feet and demanding his father, the king, to allow him to learn dance was too funny in your head. Months and many occasions of actually seeing him dance later, you have to say it was the best decision the king has ever made to let his son pursue his passion instead of forcing the traditional hobbies ‘fit for a king’ onto him. Not that he could avoid them completely, but they didn’t make up his entire personality - as was the case with some of the other princes you’ve met throughout your life.

So maybe it’s not all that impossible that he’d be the one to choose you as his future partner… right? 

You really have no idea why you keep hurting yourself thinking about it. It doesn’t matter, after all. One way or another, that’s how it is. Besides, your future marriage was decided long before you actually met. So even if it was him who suggested it, the reason behind it wouldn’t be the great chemistry you have now, or how easily you can communicate and make each other laugh, or how teasing and bickering come to you as naturally as supporting and comforting one another. None of that was true back then - you were strangers, barely even aware of each other’s existence. The reason for your marriage was, naturally, political. And that would remain to be true regardless of who came up with it. 

Maybe you just wished your life and marriage was different from breeding horses and dogs. Just something practical, meant to be efficient and to serve a purpose, to produce certain results.

Maybe you just wished there was more to it. Fate, perhaps, or something like love at first sight.

It was easy to fall in love with Soonyoung. Too easy. And it’s impossible to ignore those feelings - or to hide them you’re sure, even if you hope for the contrary. Again, you shouldn’t be blamed since you can’t help it. You love him. You just don’t want to. Because you can’t be sure it’s not all just your mind trying to protect itself - that’s what you tell yourself, despite knowing it’s more of a question whether he feels something towards you too. 

Of course, you’re the one who witnessed firsthand the growth of your relationship. You’ve seen it all - from the initial polite curiosity, to the genuine curiosity, to the fond and, you’d like to believe, loving gaze he wears whenever he looks at you. The one that makes your heart race. Soonyoung's feelings towards you are obviously warm. Maybe you'd be willing to believe he feels the same as you do, that he's just as in denial and protection mode as you are, if only you were thinking rationally.

But you're far from rationally thinking, stuck on the hurtful fact that no one takes your feelings seriously. That had the marriage not been arranged and were you feeling the same, and if they were mutual, nobody would care.

Sometimes you wish you were only mere commoners, allowed to fall in love and marry and not care about the impact your actions will have. Then you could have the marriage you wish for, based on mutual respect and love. One where he would watch you with those eyes of his, so full of love it’s suffocating.

He’s watching you now, with those loving eyes, from where he stands on the opposite side of the ball room. It’s too far to actually see him and the details on his face, but you’ve seen the way he looks at you more than enough times to know. You’re so stupid to be imagining it.

And he’s so stupid too. Watching you instead of paying attention to his advisors that are no doubt telling him how the ball will proceed or the introductions being made. Yet you still blush, your heart fluttering. You could almost imagine that your marriage is more than just a deal.

People often tell you that you sabotage your own happiness, and you wonder whether they’re right.

Because even though he’s looking at you like he can’t see anyone else, all you think about is how this could all be just a play he puts on. A lie you don’t even believe in yourself, but you try.

Because even as Soonyoung walks towards you, and you see the flower in his pocket and recognize it as your favorite, you focus on the logistics - the flower is native to your kingdom, hours away, there’s no way anything could be done to get it here in time - rather than the flower as a gesture. You have to, because if you don’t you might start believing it’s a sign of more than just an observance of formalities. 

“May I have this dance?” the prince smiles, offering you his hand. You accept, of course, and you try not to shiver at the perfect feeling of your hand in his. 

He guides you through the steps with practiced ease. You know he loves to dance and that he's a much better dancer than you. He’s a perfectionist, you remind yourself, and he must be annoyed with the mistakes you make and that’s why he holds you so tight, why he presses your bodies together any chance he gets. Anyone would be lucky to dance with him. He could make anyone look like they possess skills on par with his.

You avoid his eyes even though you feel his gaze on you. Instead your eyes remain glued to the flower. It reminds you of home, of your childhood and time long ago when you weren’t in love with a prince who’s all you could wish for. Is a genuinely love-filled marriage too much to ask for?

“It’s really pretty,” the prince says and it startles you enough that your eyes meet his. He noticeably perks up and you curse yourself. That tiny smile he wears is too adorable not to fall for. “I was thinking we could use them for our wedding too.”

Your steps falter, but he’s quick to adjust to it, making the mistake seem natural. 

“Is something wrong? You’ve been distant today,” he lowers his head and his voice, close enough that you could forget the world if you allowed yourself the luxury.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you tell him curtly. The wedding… It’d be beautiful, and you can’t say that you weren’t thinking that the flowers of your kingdom would be perfect. Maybe that’s why it hurts more. It doesn’t feel right planning a wedding with someone who’s just the perfect match in the current socio-political context.

“Look, I know everyone keeps staring at me,” he sighs, and it surprises you again. Now that you look around, you see that he’s right. Every man and woman is looking at Soonyoung, and despite your better judgment you use the next twirl to move closer to him. You see him biting his lip to start smiling and it’s not good for your heart. “I know, but I really tried to make them see I’m yours.”

Definitely not good for your heart. Your head spins and you blame it on the dancing.

“How did you get the flowers here?” you ask instead, try to deflect before you start overthinking. But he starts blushing and it’s just as lethal. He’s so nervous it’s you who has to correct him this time.

“I… I actually arranged for them to be grown here, in the greenhouses behind the castle,” he says and winces at your expression, “I’m sorry! I just wanted you to feel more at home here, and these were the only ones I remembered from my trip to your kingdom.”

Something about your shock must be registering in his brain as anger because he keeps whispering apologies and explanations and god, your friends were right, weren’t they? This isn’t something you do just to seem like the perfect husband in the eyes of the people of your partner’s kingdom.

“I wanted to propose to you with them. I thought it’d show I accept our differences - and I know it’s stupid, okay? I just wanted to do something romantic,” he deflates a little, but it matches the music, completely natural and inconspicuous to the onlookers. You think your heart is going to burst. You’re so stupid. He’s so stupid. “I know you’re not marrying me because you want to, but I really like you, and I want to grow old with you… even if you only like me as a-”

“Why didn’t you say something?” you hiss, and alright, you might be a little angry, or maybe it’s just the adrenaline, “God, Soonyoung, why didn’t you say you like me? I thought you only saw this as a business.” He looks as bewildered as you feel. 

“I thought it was obvious!” he whisper-shouts. It’s fortunate that you’re a little bit away from the other couples and the people standing around the room. “Do you think I’d sneak out for anyone else? Or give them private dance lessons? Or grow flowers for them - and don’t even get me started on that! That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done!”

“What are you talking about?” you try to mind your volume, you really do, “You got people for that!”

“Yeah, but that wouldn’t be right!” he argues right back and you’re really bringing too much attention to yourselves, “That wouldn’t be romantic at all! I wanted to do this for you and-”

You swear you’re not one to break the decorum. 

You never act in any way that could tarnish your or your kingdom’s reputation. 

So you have no idea why your arms are around Soonyoung’s neck and why you’re kissing him in front of everyone.

The music’s stopped, and he’s kissing back, and maybe they’re still playing you just can’t hear them over the heartbeat in your ears. 

You keep your eyes closed, so you can’t see the smiles on your and the prince’s fathers’ faces. But you hear the buzz around you and feel Soonyoung smile into the kiss and so you smile too.

Your friends were right. You should’ve realized, but having the prince confess makes up for the lost time, as does the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands around your waist pulling you so close to him. And perhaps, just perhaps, you like that everyone knows he’s yours and you’re his and that it’s not just for the show.

[mindibindi]

‘Frankly nobody should need a single policy from her. Given their options, all she should need to do as a sane, intelligent, compassionate and competent woman was put her hand up.’

“Vote for this politician. Pay no attention to her politics. Grovel at her feet. Expect no policy from her. Vote for her because she isn’t the other one. Do not inspect her policies. Vote for her without hesitation.”

Good to know Blue MAGA’s still in full swing, can’t wait to see none of you at the polls because you don’t practice what you preach.

What a brave ask, hiding behind anonymity. But yeah, I wrote it, meant it and stand by it. By which I mean, I stand by this:

‘Frankly nobody should need a single policy from her. Given their options, all she should need to do as a sane, intelligent, compassionate and competent woman was put her hand up.’

"Given their options" being the operative phrase. I did not write this:

“Vote for this politician. Pay no attention to her politics. Grovel at her feet. Expect no policy from her. Vote for her because she isn’t the other one. Do not inspect her policies. Vote for her without hesitation.”

Nice job taking my words and trying to twist them. Wonder where you learned that completely transparent and manipulative trick? Unfortunately, even that pathetic attempt to make an entirely reasonable position look fascistic...I don't disagree with. It is a national SHAME than your polls are as close as they are. So ABSO-FUCKIN-LUTELY. Every sane, reasonable, feeling person in America should VOTE BLUE

Now usually, beyond the odd rainbow meme, I don't do politics on my tumblr. But that doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about. (Please consider this before coming at me in the comments. Pithy replies aren't gonna cut it. Outraged whataboutism is only going to result in a swift but brutal slapdown. I know my shit and I'm probably much smarter than you. I'm a university tutor so I'm not gonna argue easily disprovable positions. I'm simply going to mark you down for poor critical thinking skills and tell you to resubmit once your work is up to standard. Willful stupidity will not be tolerated. You have been warned).

All that said, I'm not American so I'm posting this if only so that voters in the US see that final taunt about them not turning out. If there's one thing Republicans do better than Democrats, it's organise. They don't engage in in-fighting or noble self-sacrifice on election day. They band together in mutual rage and hatred and they storm the halls of power. Sometimes literally. So you gotta show up people. You gotta vote blue. You gotta let go of your exceptionalist moral purity just long enough to do the ONLY. SANE. THING.

NO EXCUSES. NO BUTS. NO ARGUMENT. Because here's the thing:

There IS no valid argument for voting for drumpbpfth.

There IS no valid argument for NOT voting.

We've heard the arguments in favour of a protest vote. (Yep, even for Palestine). We've heard e v e r y t h i n g the dumpsterfire has done and intends to do. And NO argument in favour of either option stacks up. You aren't gonna surprise me with a "but what about...?". NOPE. SHUT the FUCK UP. Sit down. Use your brain. Because here's ALL you need to know about the ONLY candidate actually deserving of the title of the President of the United States.

She served as Vice President under President Biden (who did an incredible job given what he inherited)

She's a former prosecutor and actual career politician (not a conman)

She's a woman of color (which means she has had to work approximately 527x harder than ANY white cis-het man to have reached the equivalent position)

That's it. That's all you need to know. Literally. That's what you knew when she put her hand up and just that SHOULD, if there is anything fair and logical about US politics, put Kamala Harris in the lead. That alone should by rights earn her the presidency. Because those things things tell you these:

She can represent your country with pride and professionalism and without embarrassing you daily on the world stage

She adheres to the values of the Democratic Party

She can work with other stakeholders, inc. internationally

She can form whole sentences and logical arguments

She's interested in social justice

She can function within structures of accountability

She has political experience

She is capable of drafting and negotiating policy

She's smart and hard-working

The reason you don't need policy from her is because you know from her resume that she is actually capable of coming up with policy. The reason you don't need to know whether she can be held accountable is that her whole career shows she can. More to the point, she's running against someone whose resume and history shows he isn't capable of either of these things. He has no policy. No concepts of a policy. He's incapable probably of even spelling the word. He is also entirely uninterested in structures of accountability. dump doesn't care about America or Americans. He cares ONLY about himself. Sure, if republicans had put forward a legitimate candidate for Kamala Harris to run against THEN you could talk about inspecting policies. Then you could have debate and critique and some kind of productive and meaningful back-and-forth negotiation. But 'Merica, sweetie, honey. There's nothing to discuss. There's no great and glorious tussle here. You have ONE solid candidate for president who WILL serve you well. And frankly, you are LUCKY to have her. You barely deserve another shot at this. Trump was never a serious politician or reasonable candidate for president. He may in fact be EXACTLY the president America wants and deserves. THAT is now up to you to prove or disprove.

But please stop pretending this is some kind of a race. Please stop holding Harris to standard you don't apply equally to her opposition. The bar for her is in heaven while the bar for him is in hell. He's sloshing cheap champagne at the bar and hawking bitcoin while you press HER ON POLICY????!! Come the fuck on. This is false balance taken to a truly iiiiinnnnsaaaannnne extreme. You might as well put a turd in a suit then place them side-by-side in a split screen. You don't need to know more. You don't need another debate. You don't need another interview. You don't need a woman who has WITHOUT A DOUBT had to prove herself every. single. step. of. the. goddamn. way. to prove herself for the 528th time. If you do, then you're just coming up with excuses to vote for hate. If that's your deal, then vote hate. But don't gaslight everyone else into thinking you're discerning when all you're actually discerning about is who you consider human.

I'm not saying you have to ADORE Harris. I'm not saying grovel at her feet but honestly, I do understand some of joy and relief that has poured forth since she's stepped up following Biden's selfless act of renunciation. That joy says something profound about the state of American politics. It isn't meaningless. If anything, that joy is indicative of an incredible sadness, a long-standing hopelessness. As for the critics who say that all she is is joy and memes and nothing else, I say this -- that is the level of political discourse you all, as a country, have created and accepted. That is a collective choice. The social media campaign for Harris is a brilliant strategic move and possibly the only thing that could at this point compete with dump's seemingly unstoppable narcissistic brand of bs. Dems have to play to win. Lives depend on it. And right now, Dems can't win with policy. And principle. And intelligence. And compassion. And experience. And progress. Because (some) Americans won't vote for it. But they WILL vote for memes. And THAT? That is on YOU.

You don't WANT policy. You want fucking coconuts. And you, Anon, don't WANT policy. You just want to say that she doesn't have any so you have an excuse to hate, attack, marginalise, deprive and kill. And above all, remain stupid. Right now, the ONLY path away from stupidity and hate is to VOTE BLUE. Yeah, you could have had two decent candidates and an actual race but you don't. This is the reality y'all made. And yes, the system is most definitely stacked against anyone who wants or tries to change it. So now you gotta defeat MAGA + The Electoral College + "voter fraud" impediments + potentially SCOTUS if you even have half a chance at regaining control of your country. Even then, nothing is assured. Expect HUGE backlash. (A woman president??? An Asian-African-wtf-even-IS-she in The White House?? And I thought the Obamas were bad!!!) You may have another insurrection on your hands. You may be headed for civil war. She's got a hell of a job ahead of her. She's going to be proving herself for years to come. But the difference between her and that joke of a republican candidate is that he isn't fit for the job. She is.

[kissorkill16]

I Miss My Boy: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: What if Nicky went to visit Mr. Peterson.

(P.S., for @hybridalex17 !)

He swore he'd never do it.

He told himself he didn't want to see that man again.

But Trinity needed him, and he wanted to help his friend.

Nicky walked down the darkened hall of the prison, his clothes dripping from being outside in the cold rain. Thankfully, he had on a jacket, and he was wearing the bag over his head.

When he heard that familiar grunt of the hulking man in argyle, he turned to the bars, but he didn't take off his bag.

"Ha. Now that's interesting.", said the man, "I didn't expect to see you here."

Nicky slowly peeled the bag off his head and looked at the man with a stern expression, his brown eyes locking with Mr. Peterson's green ones.

"Listen, Peterson.", said Nicky, "Let's get something straight. I'm not here to chit chat, I'm not here to play games with you, the only reason I came here was because Trinity needs me. Apparently, the last time she came here, you didn't give her the information she needed. So -"

"So you thought you'd have a different result?", asked Mr. Peterson. The man scoffed, "And I thought you were smarter than that, Nicholas."

"Don't call me that."

Nicky pointed at the man and stomped at him, "You lost the right to call me anything the moment you lost your mind."

Mr. Peterson turned around, hiding his condescending smile. "Oh, Nicky. I haven't lost my mind. I lost so much, but my mind wasn't one of them. It's still the same old me under all of this."

"Yeah, right.", Nicky said as he rolled his eyes.

Nicky shook his head, "Listen, man. Either you help us, or -"

Mr. Peterson stepped closer to the boy. Despite being behind bars, Nicky backed up against the wall.

"Or what, Nicky? Or what?"

Nicky took a deep breath, then locked eyes with the man again. "My friend is in danger. I want to help her, because right now, her and her whole family are in danger.", he said, then he turned around and was about to walk away.

"I thought you'd know what that feels like.", he said, "After all, you had a family once."

As he walked away, he delivered one more line to Mr. Peterson. "But whatever, I can see you're not going to help."

What Nicky didn't expect Mr. Peterson to do was laugh. He turned around and looked at him, completely baffled. Seriously, he was trying to be serious here and help Trinity, and this maniac was laughing?!

"Poor little Nicholas.", said the man, "So naive, and so sweet. Doing anything for people who don't even care about him."

Nicky stomped back to the front of the cell and pointed at the man, "Don't!", he said. "Don't say that! Aaron and Mya cared about me -"

Mr. Peterson laughed again, "I'm not talking about Aaron and Mya, dear.", he said. "I'm talking about...those other ones."

Nicky backed up against the wall.

"Those little rats thought you were obsessed, hellbent on finding Aaron and Mya, and they called you a liar whenever you tried to tell them anything. Even after you escaped from me, none of them can give you an ounce of respect.", he bent down to meet the boy's level, "Not even Trinity Bales."

Nicky pointed at Mr. Peterson once again, "Don't bring her into this! I'm doing this for her!"

"And she's making you, isn't she?", asked Mr. Peterson. "Poor little girl can't do this alone, yet she's been doing plenty of other things alone. Like when she came to see me. I didn't see anyone else with her."

Mr. Peterson reached through the bars and grabbed Nicky's cheeks, making him look at him in the eyes.

"Aww, and she probably made you think that your friends are dead so you'd snap out of your little fit, didn't you?", he condescendingly asked. "Oh, Nicholas. My poor boy."

Nicky pushed himself back against the wall, "Don't touch me and don't call me that you son of a bitch!", he yelled.

"Do you realize how easy you are to manipulate?"

"Stop it! No I'm not!"

Once again, Mr. Peterson let out that same condescending laugh. "But I can't stay mad at you. After all, you're just a sweet little child who's never had a true friend before, or a true family."

Nicky clutched at the sides of his head. "That's not true! I have friends, I have a family, I -"

"But none of it is real, Nicholas."

He reached through the bars and grabbed Nicky again, pulling him close. And this time, Nicky didn't move.

"You were miserable, you had no one to care for you as much as you cared for them. You left so many times, and they just let you. No one ever cared for you, Nicholas.", said the man. "I took you in, I treated you so wonderfully, I never let you leave. But then you escaped me, you left me. For what? For this?"

Nicky didn't know why, but he felt himself beginning to cry.

"Every time Aaron or Mya brought you over, he always made you feel at home. You loved us so much, you never wanted to leave, did you?"

The boy shook his head.

"Mhmm.", said Mr. Peterson. "We began to see you as a part of our family, the same way you felt about us."

Mr. Peterson reached a hand to the side of Nicky's head, gently caressing it.

"You left us, Nicholas.", said Mr. Peterson. "You left again, and this time, you've been gone too long."

As he felt Mr. Peterson's gloved hand caress his head, he looked down at the bag he threw down to the floor.

"Don't you want to come back yet?", asked Mr. Peterson. "Back home?"

Nicky hugged himself, still looking at the bag. He must admit, Mr. Peterson's house once felt like a second home to him, and it was all thanks to Aaron and Mya. All his life, he'd begged and prayed to God for his family to stay in one place, and he felt like he finally found his city when he moved to Raven Brooks.

When he found the Petersons.

"I miss you my boy."

Nicky bent down and picked up the bag, still looking at it.

"I never had friends before, and I was so happy and so blinded, I was willing to do anything for them.", he said, "I never felt at home anywhere before, and I thought this would be different, and it was...you made it different."

"Because I kept you safe.", said Mr. Peterson. "And if you come back with me, I'll take you home."

Home.

A place where Nicky would be safe.

...It was safe in the basement.

It was safe at Mr. Peterson's house.

Without another thought, Nicky put the bag over his head, and Mr. Peterson stroked his cheeks one last time before he pulled his arms back through the bars.

"Good boy.", he said.

[gatitties]

Hi! I wanted to ask if you’d consider doing a continuation of “Not in my world” specifically with the kid pirates?

─Kid Pirates x isekaed!student!reader

─Summary: one of many battles where you didn't want to get involved but end up saving the day

─Warnings: none

Part one / Part two

Yeah maybe I have something more for them (it's not because they're my favorite crew… no 😶)

You sighed letting your body settle into the chair, letting the warm rays of the sun give your skin a satisfying tingle, if you ignored the constant threats to your life and a whole ship full of sweaty men of dubious hygiene, you could have this like a vacation in the Caribbean, you know, a post-graduation vacation.

Only you didn't finish your studies and the only thing that seemed like a vacation was that you didn't have homework, exams or schedules to keep an eye on. The rest was just stressful, but at least you had a lot of control with this type of situation, something useful you had learned in all your years as a student and that is to manage and cope with anxiety attacks, a bit sad though.

"We are under attack!"

You closed your eyes biting your inner cheek, the worst thing about being here is that Kid seemed to pick a fight with every pirate he saw, resulting in many attacks towards them, and inevitably towards you, you were a bit calmer since you started training in self defense but that wouldn't make you go on the attack.

"Are you going inside?"

"No, I just go to the bathroom and right away I'll smash someone's head, yeah, of course I'll go inside."

Killer shrugged, you were always hiding inside so he didn't really care about that, neither did the others as they seemed much more focused on the fight, however you would always get a disappointed look from the captain, did you care? No, your life was not made for fighting and if you could avoid it you would.

You spent most of it inside the doctor's room where you thought you would be safe because no one would think to hide any kind of loot here, unluckily one of the enemies was looking for some medical supplies to heal.

You just remained silent looking at each other, you took advantage of the moment of strange silence to grab a chair and throw it at his legs, unfortunately he kicked it to pieces, but you managed to move in time to dodge the sword that flew towards your shoulder.

You muttered a lot of curses while dodging every possible blow, you got a few cuts but nothing that could kill you, you decided to go outside as it would probably be easier to lose that guy in a crowd, even if it meant going headlong into the lion's den.

Luckily your lack of presence did the job on its own and the guy who started attacking you inside got lost in another battle on his way outside, you sighed in relief, standing on the sidelines as you watched everyone beat each other to near death. You shuddered at the sight of so much violence that you never seemed to adjust to.

A little problem about you in this world is that the whole thing about devil fruits and powers had you fascinated, you could see anyone using their power and your brain would just go off, just looking at how surreal it looks, which happened to you right now as you watched Kid play with metal in the air like it was nothing.

"Watch your surroundings! You can't get distracted in the middle of a battlefield."

Wire used his trident to parry a stray arrow heading straight for your head, you sweated nervously at this, giving the tall man a tight smile who sighed in relief that he had arrived on time. Even though the main four had an eye on you ever since you came dodging that guy, they eventually got used to your weird (for them) pacifist behavior and appreciated the help you sometimes gave them.

"At this pace of life I'm going to go bald…"

You muttered biting your nails, impatient for all this altercation to end once and for all, it was taking longer than usual to finish off those pirates, apparently the enemy's cannons were the biggest problem that no one seemed to be able to take care of.

"Damn… I always have to find the solutions myself."

You ran dodging most of them, reaching the ropes that joined both boats to go towards the opposite, Heat seemed to notice your actions and helped you by removing some men that you couldn't shoot down, the other boat was practically deserted, only the gunners firing, luckily too focused on their task that you were able to knock them unconscious with a blow to the neck.

You had never seen much less work with cannons in your old life but… if before most of the things you touched broke you just have to use your power of stupidity to break this, not even two minutes later you were just trying to understand how turning it on because it didn't have a fuse and you accidentally broke them, job done successfully, being a walking disaster was your greatest achievement in life, at least being clumsy helped you.

The problem was that when you wanted to go back all the enemies seemed defeated and of course going back to their ship to run away after the beating, the ropes were cut and they cornered you on the edge of the rail, your best option would be to jump, maybe with some luckily no sea monster would be found around here although with some corpses and blood in the sea… you weren't so sure.

"Do you trust me?!"

You didn't need to turn your head to know whose voice it was, Kid yelled from afar, without being able to see him you knew he was enjoying your internal struggle about what the hell to do when you seemed to be between a rock and a hard place, you swallowed, breathed deep, you took a step back climbing on the rail and before any of that crew could touch you a single hair your body plunged into the ocean in a dizzying way, if it were another less stressful situation, maybe you would have enjoyed the feeling, but not now that your heart was in your throat.

After your leap of faith (little though it was) you felt a tug at your waist, your body began to move towards Kid's outstretched hand, you quickly connected the dots and understood why they were so insistent that you wear the metal belt you wear now.

"Looks like we're going to have a big celebration today, don't you think?"

Kid released you once he was able to grab you in his arms, smiling cheekily to see how you were completely disheveled, with a completely exhausted look, you gave him the middle finger, getting out of there to your makeshift room, but not before answering him.

"Fuck off, I need a vacation from my vacation to get over this trauma."

"You're just being dramatic."

"Yeah… whatever, don't talk to me for a week, I need peace of mind and a lot of incense."

Killer chuckled quietly as he watched you slam the door shut, the others seemed just as amused by your attitude, deciding to leave you alone as they toasted to you for not chickening out and helping for once in one of their battles, you just hope they don't think that this will happen more often.

[coolearistrashcollection]

Chapter Two: Deja vu

Characters: cult leader!Geto, cursed spirit!Reader TW: isolation, small fight

part 1 (prologue) here, next part here!

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One of the few certainties in life is death. Throughout history, humanity has grappled with the inevitability of mortality, striving to extend life and seeking ways to outsmart the relentless march of time. That has resulted in sorcerers, a group of people that are able to manipulate their cursed energy to exorcise curses. Together, they work to expand the lifetime of regular humans who otherwise would have had a tragic end.

Despite the myriad attempts by various religions to provide answers about what lies beyond death, the mystery still remains elusive. What happens after we take our last breath? Is there a promised paradise waiting for us, a reward for our earthly deeds? Or do we face punishment for our missteps? Is it simply an end? This struggle reflects a deep-seated fear of the unknown that the future represents. These questions linger in our minds, shaping our beliefs and actions, and revealing the complex relationship we have with life, time, and the unknown. It is not simply a fear of death, but the fear of the future, you think. 

“There they are!” The words are simply for yourself as a mental note. 

In a rush, last night you purposefully used your cursed technique enough times to leave a trail for the sorcerers to follow. This made you confident again in your abilities after centuries of not using them, with the added bonus that it would be easier to confront them. With that, you hope it would lead them to you.

You look at your drawn map of the city and the landscape before you. The view from Kōfuku-ji was better than the mountain's, making it easier to track the infamous white and black dots. The tallest building served as a strategic point. You track their path: your plan was working, they were following the residue and going towards you. 

However, you were not expecting the white-haired sorcerer to make eye contact with you once they were close to the tall building. Smirking, you look at the sorcerer beside him; His eyes are captivating, purple orbs clearly hiding secrets like an impenetrable wall between you. The black-haired sorcerer piqued your interest immediately, your gut telling you the future holds many plans ahead for him. 

As you get lost in those captivating eyes, the sorcerers run to attack. You jump from the building onto the ground, there is no reason to ruin a beautiful temple with a fight. 

Your powers allow you to predict their movements, allowing you to dodge all the punches and kicks they throw at you. A 1v2 would have overwhelmed you yesterday, but it feels easy today. 

“Suguru! Where the hell are your curses!?” Desperation is evident in his tone, their plan isn't going accordingly. They were probably hoping to overwhelm you with several simultaneous attacks.

“I'm trying to summon them, I think they are too scared. We’ll have to do this by ourselves.” 

But that unexpected compliment gave you the confidence to strike back instead. A swift land on Gojo’s face would have meant winning the fight quickly; instead, a force made your fist swerve and hit his glasses instead. They quickly turned to ash, without limitless Gojo wouldn’t be alive. 

Geto uses this and kicks you from behind, causing you to land on your chest. If only you knew about their abilities beforehand, but confidence blinds. 

You feel humiliated, you are pinned as the black-haired male puts his foot on your back. 

“Who are you?” The white-haired sorcerer takes the role of interrogating you. His striking blue eyes stare into your soul for any type of honesty.

“None of your concern.”

Their faces turn smug, they know how powerful they are. “It kinda is, so, let me ask you a better question, what type of curse are you?”

“I dont know.”

“What do you mean you ‘don’t know’?”

“I don't know. I was sealed for so long I forgot.”

They seem to believe you, the stakes have never been higher, and the weight of your circumstances strips away any pretence. There’s no reason to lie; deception feels like a luxury you can no longer afford. Your voice is steady, devoid of any tremors or hesitation that might betray your fear. It carries a calmness that contrasts sharply with the thoughts swirling in your mind.

“We were told Tengen sealed you, why?” The other sorcerer asks with curiosity, your existence clearly intrigued him as much as his intrigued you. 

“I also don't know, sorry.” 

“Well, we were ordered to kill you right here… but Suguru and I decided it’d be better if he absorbed you.”

“Wait what–”

The next thing you see is a black wall. Another prison, another void, trapped inside. This disappeared as quickly as it happened, as you found yourself in a room with your two captors.

“You can't leave this room if you want to live, ok? So pinky promise us you won't. The others will try to kill you immediately.” 

“Satoru, we haven't even introduced ourselves yet. Hello, I’m Geto Suguru, and this is my friend, Gojo Satoru.”

Introducing yourself was a struggle, all you could manage to say was your name. Everything else—memories, hobbies, passions—had been lost to time. The canvas of your identity lay blank, waiting to be filled, yet all that surfaced was a singular, consuming desire: revenge.

That thirst for vengeance gnawed at you, a relentless tide that surged through your mind. Tengen robbed you from centuries of existence. It would've been spectacular to see the technological advancements you briefly experienced now. Yet, you feel the weight of this unyielding anger, it was exhausting, draining the very essence of what it meant to be alive.

You found yourself questioning if there was more to existence than this singular fixation. What if, beneath the rage, there were layers of joy, creativity, or connection waiting to be uncovered? What if you could rediscover the parts of yourself that once thrived beyond the thirst for retribution?

As you stood there, grappling with the emptiness and the flickering embers of your past, you sensed a longing for something more—a flicker of hope that hinted at new beginnings. Maybe life held more than just the path of vengeance. Perhaps it was time to seek out those fragments of your identity, to explore the world anew, to uncover the richness of living beyond your pain, and the two sorcerers were the key.

“I don't know what a pinky promise is, but I'm not ready to die yet. I'll do anything to live longer.”

“We are glad to hear that, you’ll simply have to help us exorcise other curses.”

“Fine by me.”

—

Nothing lasts forever. Especially not happiness.

They never cared, did they? Sorry, no. He never cared about you, did he? The realisation at first hits hard, like a cold wave crashing over you, leaving you breathless. It all turns out that it was just an illusion, a facade.

You felt everything he experienced, even though you were confined to a separate sphere, an echo of his life rather than a participant. His victories were yours, and his failures stung you deeply. You were merely an extension of his will, a tool to wield against those he deemed enemies, stripped of agency, relegated to the shadows.

Worse, even: he used you as a weapon against a man who almost killed you, that moment still etched in your mind like a scar that never fades, and then he shelved you. You had been a pawn in a dangerous game, you never mattered to sorcerers –to him–, you were only seen as a tool to sharpen. Just like that, you were cast aside, deemed unnecessary and unworthy. You weren’t strong enough, useful enough for him, and it cut deeper than any physical wound. 

What was her name again? Reka? Rimo? Oh, yeah Riko. She died and let all of Suguru’s demons out. You felt his insecurities eating his brain away, the kind sorcerer who showed you mercy disappeared. 

You wanted to reach out to him and repay the kindness he once showed you. His support felt like a lifeline, a guiding hand that helped you navigate the turbulent waters of your existence. It was more than just a partnership; it was a bond rooted in mutual interest. As you grew your powers, he benefited too, expanding his arsenal of curses with every fight you aided him in. It was a symbiotic relationship, one that made you feel powerful, useful, and connected.

“Geto, please. Summon me, I want to help.”

His kindness extended beyond the battlefield. He took the time to help you adapt to your new life, easing your transition into an overwhelmingly different world to your old one. He showed you around Tokyo, a city you have never been to before. It pulses with energy and life: the neon lights with busy streets, and the top of Tokyo tower. With each corner he turned, you discovered a piece of yourself that had been lost, a sense of wonder awakening in your heart. Your existence was worth living, after all.

“Let me help you.”

He taught you how to use modern gadgets, like cell phones, that seemed like magic at first. With every tutorial, he patiently broke down technology until you were able to understand, laughing at your confusion (and also frustration) and cheering on your progress. You remember the thrill of being in a train for the first time, the fast transport taking you to Kyoto in a short amount of time. 

Those moments together were more than just lessons; they were building blocks of a friendship that felt genuine. As a curse, you never had a friend before in your existence. You cherished the laughter you shared, the way he made you feel seen and understood. You wanted to repay that kindness, it felt like a matter of honour, a way to give back for all the ways he had helped you transform into someone stronger, someone more capable of facing the world and forgetting your past.

But he never cared. He would have never shelved you if he meant all of that kindness. All sorcerers were the same, first Tengen, and now Geto.

And then you see him. “Is that really you?” The words escape your lips, a whisper barely containing the disbelief surging through you. After years of being ignored, of waiting and wondering, he finally summoned you. It felt surreal, like stepping into a dream you didn’t dare to hope for.

His name rolled off his tongue like a purr, rich and inviting, his voice as silky and smooth as you remembered. “It’s good to see you too.” The familiarity of those words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, and you felt a flutter of emotions. He stared at you with those same captivating eyes that had first drawn you in—deep and knowing, swirling with memories of a shared past. It was a déjà vu, a familiar setting that brought with it a bittersweet nostalgia: you had just been set free, for a second time. The air is thick with the promise of what could still be.

But as you took him in, you couldn't help but notice the changes that marked his transformation. His lustrous hair, once neatly tied in a bun, now cascaded down in a half-up-half-down style, longer than you remembered. He had swapped his former black uniform for black monk robes, the fabric draping over his now more muscular and defined form. The vibrant green and yellow kesa draped across his shoulder was a striking contrast. While it surprised you, it also comforted you in an unexpected way, it was almost a throwback to your era.  

“So, how do you feel about helping with–”

“Yes.”