#i was like oh yeah all of us here take care of the things that fall over in the storms and she was supppper passive aggressive about it

[holylulusworld]

Flick the bean

Summary: Soldier Boy is getting on your nerves.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!Reader

Warnings: arguments, SB being SB, talk about masturbation, nakedness, death of a sex toy, smut, unprotected sex, hate sex, calling each other names, light spanking

Catch up here: Diddle the skittle

You didn’t get to enjoy your new toy. Soldier Boy grabbed it and broke it into two halves without batting an eyelash.

You growled at him and called him names, but he didn’t care. He came to fulfill a mission, and he wanted to be damned if he didn’t go through with it.

“You goddamn asshole,” you growled at him as he tried to flip you over. He manhandled you on your belly and pushed your ass up. “What the fuck is wrong with you? How can you call yourself a hero and then come here and destroy my boyfriend?”

“That thing was your boyfriend,” he laughed. “Sweetness, don’t worry. I’ll give you something better and make you cum like a faucet.”

“You gross bastard!” You yelped when he roughly slapped your rear. “Hey! Who do you think you are, coming here and slapping my ass?”

“Shut up,” he barked. “I’m going to make it up to you.” Soldier Boy growled. Still in his tactical suit, he fought with the zipper to get his dick out. “You’ll not cum if you stop yelling at me.”

“Says the guy breaking my window and vibrator,” you huffed, looking over your shoulder. You leaned on your elbows, waiting for him to finish the job.

“Maybe next time, don’t whine like a cat in heat when you try to play with your cunt."

You rolled your eyes when he lazily stroked his cock. “Get it up or use your fingers. After breaking my vibrator, making me cum is the least you can do.”

“Greedy bitch,” he slapped your ass again, a little harder this time. “Stop talking and just take it.”

“I’m not some pillow princess,” you bit back. “Dude, get it up or leave me be. One way or another, you’ll get me a new dick.”

He growled and shoved you down, easily holding you pinned to the mattress with one hand. His other hand gripped his cock to tease your entrance. “If you don’t shut up, whore, I’ll gag you with that broken toy.”

You held your breath and lay still, waiting for him to give you what you were craving. He laughed before his palm connected with your rear again. You cried out, not expecting him to spank you again.

“Take that, slut,” he taunted and slapped your ass again, harder. You gasped, trying to mask the moan escaping your throat as the pain woke something more primal inside of you. “I bet you’re dripping for me.”

“Asshole!”

“Beg me, and I’ll help you get off.”

You gritted your teeth. “Fine, fuck me.”

“Do better. Be nice.” He slapped your ass again and again until you gave in and begged him—nicely.

“Please fuck me, oh breaker of hearts and windows,” you lied through your teeth, but he didn’t care. Soldier Boy himself was too far gone. 

He gripped your hips to guide his throbbing erection into your dripping cunt. One hard thrust later, he stretched you out, ignoring that your walls struggled to accommodate his size.

Soldier Boy held you down by your shoulders, groaning deeply as he began to move his hips. Your cries of pleasure and his grunts filled the room, growing louder with every thrust of his cock.

He leaned over you, pressing his hard body against your back. “That’s a good cunt. Good thinking; I came to your rescue. You’d have stayed a desperate housewife all your life without me.”

“Ass-hole!” You cried out, feeling him change the angle, now pounding into your stretched-out hole in abandon. Fuck, fuck. You couldn’t stop your treacherous pussy from clenching tightly around his thick cock.

“Yeah, squeeze me, baby,” he laughed in your neck, moving his hips even faster. “Do you want me to fuck this cunt harder?”

“Fuck…” You couldn’t think or speak. Your body gave in once again, soaking his cock, dragging him over the edge.

Soldier Boy came with a shout of your name. His release filled you to the brim, leaking out of your abused cunt as he didn’t stop moving. “You better hydrate because…” He slipped out of you to slap your cunt, “I’m not nearly done with you and your holes…”

[zou-rs]

A late night grocery run

Warnings : fluff

Summary : a rainy night , midnight and weird pregnancy cravings .

The soft sound of rain dripped outside the tall glass windows of their new, fancy apartment in D.C.

It was almost midnight, and she was curled up on the big, cozy sofa in the living room, wearing one of Leon’s old hoodies — the one that reminded her of his academy days years ago.

With one hand scrolling through her phone watching oddly satisfying snack videos, and the other rubbing slow circles on her swollen belly, she was almost seven months pregnant now. It felt like she was carrying a giant watermelon, if you asked her. Despite the back pain, nausea, and puffy face, she was oh so grateful to be right here, right now.

She never cared much for children back when she was a teen, living in a crappy apartment with her sweet boyfriend (yes, of course it was Leon), but now, after they’d suffered through years of pain and trauma, a child from the man she’d loved since she was a kid was all she wanted.

She was so into her thoughts and the videos that she didn’t realize Leon had stepped out of the shower. He was now walking toward her, wearing only sweatpants, blessing her with the sight of his muscular arms, chest, and abs — bare and still slightly damp.

He grinned as he sat beside her on the sofa, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“I see you stole my hoodie again, leaving me all shirtless on this cold night,” he murmured in a low, hoarse voice — rougher now, raspier, so different from the boy who used to babble cheerfully all day.

“Well, it’s comfy. And it smells like you. Besides, your son demands it,” she said playfully.

At that, he softened. He chuckled and placed his hand gently on her belly.

“Hey there, little guy.”

He rested his head on her shoulder and peeked at her phone.

“What is this? Chocolate-covered pickles? Baby, what is this crap?”

His adorably horrified expression nearly made her burst out laughing. She kissed his chin dimple and said, “First of all, don’t come near me with that damp hair—hey!”

He shook his head like a puppy, scattering little water droplets onto her. She gasped.

“Leon! Fine, then. I was gonna be merciful, but now I won’t be.”

He grinned. “Oh yeah? And what devious plans do you have for me, my love?”

She got a mischievous but sweet look on her face.

“Um… so, about those chocolate-covered pickles. Your son craves them. He says if he doesn’t have them right now, he’ll be mad and kick me all night long. You wouldn’t want me to suffer, would you, baby?”

She batted her lashes at him with false innocence. Leon sighed, because he was — and always had been — a sucker for her.

“God, sweetheart, it’s almost midnight. And it’s raining…”

She gave him the full puppy eyes. He melted.

“Fuck. Fine, fine. I guess I could make a run to the grocery store.”

⸻

Fifteen minutes later, they were both dressed in soft hoodies and pajamas, walking hand-in-hand through the chocolate aisle of the grocery store.

She held her belly with one hand and Leon’s bigger hand with the other. He pushed a cart full of chocolate and jars of pickles with his free hand.

“Sweetheart, do you need anything else? Let’s get you some healthy snacks for you and the baby. This stuff is gonna hurt your tummy…” he muttered, eyeing the pickles like they were radioactive.

She laughed. “Actually, baby… I’ve been craving vanilla ice cream with red pepper powder.”

Leon looked so horrified she actually cackled.

“What? Baby, no!”

⸻

An hour later, they were curled up on the sofa again, listening to the steady rhythm of raindrops. She happily munched on a thick pickle coated in chocolate and chocolate chips, groaning in bliss.

“Ugh, this is so good. Here, baby, take a bite,” she said, shoving the thing in front of his mouth.

He was about to fiercely decline — but the hopeful, excited look on her face stopped him. He opened his mouth and took a bite. For a second, he almost gagged… but when he saw her eyes light up, he softened, swallowed, and smiled.

“I love it, baby.”

She squealed and said smugly, “See! I told you it’s delicious!”

She kissed him, leaving a little smear of chocolate on his lips. He paused, licking it clean, then chuckled softly and shook his head at his crazy, beautiful wife.

⸻

( I don’t know if anyone is reading this lol but this literally my first time writing anything and English is not my first language so .. sorry if it’s cringe or anything 😭)

[i-willstealyourtoes]

Smut with like scout or sniper idm which one, with like being on opposite teams and having to sneak around❤️‍🩹

I have decided to do a little bit of both !! Hope that's okay :') This is also my first time with smut, so lmk if it's shit 😭 I feel like I made this more suggestive/light-hearted, sorry if that's not what you wanted-

Sneaking around with Scout/Sniper (smut/18+)

Scout

- Absolutely loves the idea of sneaking around his team (and yours) to meet you, let alone fuck you

- In fact, when he first started having feelings for you, he'd often sneak over to your base just to flirt with you some more

- "Hey, fancy meeting you here."

- "Scout this is my bedroom. You're sitting on my windowsill."

- Although he enjoys the thrill of sneaking around, he is not good at not getting caught

- Why? He's loud. And a bit stupid.

- From the moment you start making out to him cumming wherever you'll let him, he can't help the noises that come from his throat

- Moans, groans, incoherent mumblings, you'll definitely hear it all, if not anyone within a 5-meter radius

- He also is big on dirty talk, both giving and receiving

- If he's the one dominating, he will not shut up at all

- "Yeah? You like that? I fuck better than your Scout, right? I bet you like my big-"

- You usually have to cover his mouth to get him to be quiet

- He loves getting you to make some noise, especially if you can be louder than him

- Whether he's being rough on you and going at an intense pace, or making you cum as many times as he can, it's all worth it the moment you start to scream his name

- In fact, he'll probably tease you about it both during and after sex

- "(Class)? Yeah, I know 'em. Real loud mouth."

- However, if you're the one taking control... he's also really loud.

- Forcing him to be quiet by making him bite his shirt while you take him in your mouth, or quickly jerk him off behind a building during a fight is the only way you'll get him to shut up a little

- "F-fuck, crap- oh- (Y/n), y-you're goin' too fast, I-I can't- ah-!"

- His brain quickly melts when he gets close, he can't stop himself from whining out for more :(

- As for actually getting caught, it depends.

- If it's your team, he'll be all cocky about it

- "Yeah, I fucked your team, and now I fucked your (Class)! Wait, that doesn't sound right, uh-"

- But if it's his team, there's two ways this could go.

- Option one: He shrieks and tries to cover himself

- Option two: He tries to awkwardly cover things up (he's not a great liar)

- Both are quite funny, and it'll get the two of you laughing

- And he's more than willing to keep trying after you get another chance

Sniper

- Initially, Sniper wasn't sure about sneaking around to fuck or make out, preferring to go to his van instead

- So you'll have to push him first :)

- Winks, sticking your tongue out, very intentional poses when you know he's looking at you through his scope

- Or even some teasing kisses and touches before you part before matches

- Do it enough, and he'll snap, grabbing you by your hips, wrists or sides of your arms (or your hair, if you're into it or have it)

- "You think you're funny, doin' things like that?"

- He'll immediately start kissing you on your neck and leaving marks, not caring where he leaves them

- "This what you wanted, huh? Couldn't wait for me any longer?"

- He'll either bring you to his sniping spot where he knows no-one will interrupt, or he'll take you to another private area

- But that doesn't mean he won't humiliate you about things

- "So you wanna be caught, hm? You want your team to see how good I fuck you?"

- Sniper usually fucks hard (he's got a lot of repressed frustration), but you're genuinely worried your legs might be jelly for multiple hours with how much he used you

- Having a guy eagerly eat you out, finger you and fuck you will do that

- After that, he's definitely more willing to have sex sneaking around

- Especially if it's in his sniping nest

- Having you there, diligently sucking him off, while he kills members of your team? Best feeling in the world.

- What's his secret you may ask? He does not. Look down.

- "Fuck, your skilled on the field and with your mouth.."

- Unlike Scout, he doesn't make much noise other than the occasional stuttered breath and quiet groan

- If you get him to look and show your tongue running up him tenderly, there are two ways this could go.

- He either finally lets out a shaky moan like you wanted, or he quickly shoves you down his throbbing cock. Or both.

- If you get caught, he'll likely lose all his confidence, quickly flushing red and stammering about the place

- Either that, or he'll be frustrated enough to kill the guy on your team and get right back to it, no qualms

- Unless it's his team and he already knows that they know. Then there's a small chance he'll respond like normal.

- "Oh. Hey Demo, y'need something? I'm kinda busy right now."

- He'll still be embarrassed on the inside later, feel free to tease him (but he might get some pay-back for it later)

[theocddiaries]

[Classic era] Amy: So, my friend is picking up Tails tomorrow at 11. That alright? Sonic: No. Amy: Alright, then-- [stares at him] Sonic: …I mean, yes. Yes, it is. Amy: Sonic, are you sure about this? Sonic: Of course I'm not--I mean-- I am not not! I am… I don't know. Amy: Alright, calm down, look, why don't we make a list of pros and cons? Sonic: That's your solution for everything… Amy: I'll start. Sonic: Like hearing rain… Amy [grabs a piece of paper and a pen]: Alright, cons. You won't be able to do whatever you want anymore. No long trips. Weekends at home or doing children-friendly stuff-- Sonic: Hey, whose list is this? [takes the paper]: Alright, cons… …I won’t be able to do whatever I want. Forget about going on trips. Weekends spent in parks with screaming kids… Amy: Your list sounds familiar. Sonic: Or worse, staying home because I have to help him with homework. That's another thing. School. And his needs. Do you know how much a kid costs? My parents used to complain, and they were two working adults. Imagine me at fifteen and a dropout… Amy: There are support programs for single or young parents. Sonic [shudders]: What are you talking about? I'm not a parent. No way. You're messing with me! Amy: Excuse me, you were the one who didn’t sound very sure two seconds ago! Sonic: Because you've been poking all week asking if I’m sure! I’m totally sure! [Tails walks into the room and taps Sonic twice on the forearm] Tails: Sonic. Sonic: What? Tails: Here. [Sonic takes the poorly made heart-shaped card the kid hands him.] Sonic: Um… [clears throat]: Kiddo, this is a Happy Mother’s Day card. Tails: Yeah. Sonic [emphasizing]: For a mother. Tails: Yeah. You told me a mom is someone who cares and protects. So, I made it for you. Sonic: Oh. … Thanks, buddy. [hesitates a bit before giving him a pat on the head]: Go on, um, watch some TV for a bit, kid, I’m talking about something with Amy. Tails: Do you like it??? Sonic: Yes, yes, I love it. I’ll be with you in a sec. What do you want for dinner? Tails: Chili dogs! Sonic: Got it, I’ll make them for you, buddy. Go to the living room. [Tails leaves] Amy: So… [looks at the paper, folds it to take it]: I’m taking this before-- Sonic: No, wait. [takes the paper, crosses out all the cons, and under "pros," writes]: "I want him to stay with me." Amy: Well, one pro against-- Sonic: Zero. This one outweighs all the cons. Amy: Alright, then. So, should I tell my friend not to come tomorrow? Sonic: Yeah, better. Amy: Okay… But I want a more varied diet than chili dogs all day, okay? Sonic: Don't push it.

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Are you now or have you ever been (Sam Winchester x female reader)

Fic masterlist

Previous chapter ⏐ Next chapter

Chapter 4 - The Wall

It’s late the next morning when you’re walking down the main street of Lebanon, Sam on one side and a large plastic bag hanging from your hand on the other. In it are a few shirts, pairs of jeans, socks, underwear, toiletries. You’re already wearing a thick winter jacket and a pair of black boots, since you couldn’t stand wearing the too large, worn-out hiking boots that you’ve been wearing for a second longer.

“Zombies?” you ask.

“Real,” Sam replies.

“Dragons?”

“Real,” Sam says, briefly stepping to the side to let an older woman pass. “But they’re not huge scaly snakes, they’re just…guys.” You think for a second, looking at the ground in front of you and you nearly miss the door to the diner, but then you follow Sam in.

“What about,” you say, spotting Dean sitting in a booth farther down, “giant humanoid spiders?” Sam chuckles.

“Not real,” he says, then makes a face, “though there is something called Arachne.” You sigh as you reach the booth and slip in, putting the bag on the bench next to you.

“Do I want to know?” you ask up at Sam before he sits next to you after a moment of hesitation.

“Do you want to know what?” Dean asks, not looking up from his phone.

“Arachne,” Sam explains, adjusting his jacket before he reaches for a menu. Dean looks up, directly at you.

“You don’t wanna know,” he says, looks down again. Sam shakes his head, then pushes the menu towards you.

“Oh, coffee’s fine,” you say as you're taking off your jacket, but Sam frowns at you in that way he does, the way you’ve seen him do several times even though you’ve only known him for a day.

“You must be starving,” he observes, and yes, you are, there is a humongous, uncomfortable hole in your stomach, but it’s only half as big as the hole you just burned into Sam’s wallet by buying all the stuff you did. You went for the cheapest things, everything from the sales rack, but it’s still a considerable purchase. Adding breakfast to that is just a little more than your pride can take.

As if sensing your hesitation, Sam inclines his head towards you.

“You really should eat,” he says.

“Waffles are good,” Dean says, still looking at and typing on his phone. You hesitate for a moment, then reach for the menu.

“I’m gonna totally pay you back,” you say, then quickly add: “No idea how, but I will. I promise.” Sam smiles gently.

“It’s fine, really,” he says.

“Not like it’s our money,” Dean mumbles, then looks up at Sam, as if looking for permission, then at you, before he adds: “Credit card fraud. Victimless crime.” You look from Dean to Sam, who makes a face like he’s trying to say his brother’s not wrong, but he knows how it sounds. An awkward laugh leaves you.

“Guess hunting doesn’t pay,” you say and Sam smiles again, looks down at his own menu. You have just enough time to read the words Fluffy pancakes with bacon and maple syrup and get your mouth salivating, when Dean drops the phone, rubs his hand over his eyes.

“Castiel’s on his way,” he says. “Should be here in a couple of hours.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam asks, and you think he sounds a little worried. Dean seems oblivious to it, throws his brother a pained look.

“He learned how to use emojis,” he says. “Well, he’s using them. Not sure he knows what they mean.” Sam scoffs, then looks back at the menu.

“What’s a… Castiel?” you ask, careful. Sam chuckles while Dean raises his eyebrows.

“Great question,” he mutters in reply.

“He’s a friend of ours,” Sam explains. “An angel.” You nod slowly.

“Right,” you say, “and I’m guessing in this context that doesn’t mean he’s nice to animals and always tips.” Sam smiles before he answers, but then turns serious.

“He can help us find out what happened to you,” he says. “Maybe work on getting your memory back.”

Remembering who you are. It doesn’t sound like a bad thing, even though the concept of another stranger who looks at you like he knows you isn’t too thrilling. Just then the waitress comes over to take your orders.

“Waffles for me,” you say as you pass the menu to her, making Dean wink at you and click his tongue.

Sam finds you in your room – or what he already thinks of as your room – with the door ajar. He still raises his hand to knock when he sees you’re folding your new clothes, putting them into the dresser. His hand stills midair for a second as he watches you, before he remembers himself, raps his knuckles against the door. You look up, smile when you see it’s him.

“You got everything you need?” he asks. You look at your dresser, the clothes still strewn over it.

“I think so,” you reply, then look back at him. “I really am gonna pay you b—”

“You really don’t have to worry about that,” Sam interrupts you and you press your lips together. Sam’s quiet for a second, the normality of the moment making his heart feel like it’s about to burst out of his chest. Then he catches himself.

“I made some more coffee, if you want any,” he says, gesticulating behind him to indicate the kitchen. You nod.

“I think if I have more coffee I’m gonna be climbing the walls,” you say and Sam chuckles. He suppresses the need to point out that you had a tendency to drink coffee late into the day, making you toss and turn and twitch in the night sometimes. He remembers how he would wrap his arm around you to still you and you always promised to never do it again.

Just then, there’s a bang of a metal door closing, and then Dean yelling down the corridor. Sounds like Cas is here.

Sam notices you’re walking next to him until you enter the library, but then slightly drop behind him. It’s an unconscious move, he guesses, but he turns to you anyway.

“It’s okay,” he says and when he turns back, the angel is just walking into the room.

“Dean, Sam,” he says with a smile, and Dean walks up to him, the two hug briefly, before Sam moves up and hugs the shorter man as well. When they separate, he sees Castiel look your way, a softly sweet look on his face as he moves towards you, extends his hand. You take it and he shakes it.

“I know you don’t remember who I am,” Castiel says, “but it is really good to see you.” He extends his other hand and wraps it around yours as well before he lets go. It’s an oddly intimate gesture for him, but Sam finds himself thinking that if anyone understands what it’s like not to know who he is, it’s Castiel.

“Thanks,” you reply, and you don’t seem as freaked out as you could be, which Sam counts as a win.

“So,” you say into the silence, an awkward grin dancing on your lips. “You’re… an angel?” Castiel nods, then extends his arms a little, looks down himself.

“Not quite up to what I used to be,” he replies and you only nod politely, probably no idea what he means.

“Gotta say,” you continue, “I always imagined you guys as fat babies sitting on clouds.” Dean snorts and you look embarrassed, but Castiel smiles kindly.

“Those do exist,” he only says and you look at the floor, maybe to stop yourself from continuing to ramble. Sam could kiss you for it.

There’s a few seconds of quiet, before Castiel speaks again.

“Sam and Dean told you that I would examine you?” he asks and your eyes shoot up, go wide.

“Not examine,” Sam quickly cuts in, taking a step closer. “That sounds completely wrong.” You nod quickly.

“Oh, okay,” you say, voice worried.

“I am gonna need to touch your face,” Castiel adds and Sam raises a hand, shoots Dean, who’s chuckling, a deadly look.

“Making it worse, Cas,” Sam says and the angel closes his mouth.

The guy in the trench coat – Castiel, the angel – sits you down on one of the chairs in the library and then tugs up his sleeves a little.

“You shouldn’t feel anything,” he says and you nod. You’re nervous, because you don’t know what’s going to happen, and the fact that he says you shouldn’t feel anything makes you feel like you will definitely feel something.

Castiel lays the index and middle finger of each hand on your temples. He has an earnest face and looks perpetually worried, even when he’s smiling, but now he closes his eyes, seems to concentrate. You wonder if you should close your eyes too. Surely he would have told you if that was necessary?

There’s a slight pressure, suddenly, as if you’re going through a tunnel, a pop in your ear that makes you blink and then Castiel pulls back his hands, opens his eyes and straightens. He looks at you, what you think is confusion washing over his face.

“Anything?” you hear Sam ask and you look over at him. He’s been sweet and positive all day, but you could sense him getting nervous once the angel arrived. Funny, you think. You barely know him but already you feel like you can read him like a book. It helps that he seems to wear every feeling or emotion on his face, unable to hide any of it.

Dean, on the other hand, has been somewhat quiet ever since last night. You wonder if he thinks you left because of what he said over dinner, about your mother. You hope you didn’t make him feel like he needs to walk on eggshells around you. Maybe you need to talk to him.

Castiel sighs, shakes his head a little.

“Someone has definitely tempered with her memories,” he says, and then slightly turns to Sam. “There’s a… a wall.” You watch as Sam’s raised eyebrows drop and he clenches his jaw. Whatever Castiel just mentioned means something to him. It means nothing to you.

“A wall?” you ask, trying to draw Castiel’s attention back to you. If he knows what’s going on with you, you want to know too.

“Yes,” he says, focusing back on you. “There’s a wall between your consciousness and your memories of Hell.” He shakes his head again, looks almost pained. “But it’s too high. A construct like this can hide specific memories, but the fact that you don’t remember anything…” He tapers off and you wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t.

“So can’t you just get rid of it?” you ask, and whatever it is that you said makes the three men shift, all of them tensing a little. It’d be funny if it wasn’t so unnerving.

“Someone had to build this wall,” Castiel explains, talking slowly, and you’re not sure if he’s doing it to make sure you can keep up or if that is just how he talks. “I can only guess at their motivation, but they did it for a reason.” You blink at him, still not understanding. It’s Dean who speaks up, though.

“The memories from Hell,” he says. “Remembering the kind of stuff that happened to you there, it can have…consequences.” His gaze flicks towards you, then away again. “The human mind isn’t really made to deal with that kind of stuff.”

Oh, you think. You haven’t really given much thought to what the brothers revealed to you, that you’ve been to Hell. The idea is too abstract, too otherworldly to even consider it. But yeah, it’s probably not a cakewalk, now that you think about it. Hellfire, eternal damnation. You frown at your own thoughts.

“So what, it just stays up?” you ask, feeling the edges of desperation claw at the thought that you will just remain the way you are, not knowing anyone or anything.

“Unless you scratch at it too much,” Sam says. He has his arms crossed in front of his chest, head lowered but is looking at you. “That’s what I did. It… didn’t end well.” You think about what he says for a second, barely noticing the shameful look Castiel throws at the floor, and you’re about to ask what exactly he means, before your mind catches on something else.

“Wait,” you say, blinking. “Does that mean you’ve been to Hell too?” Sam presses his lips together, then nods and a second later, Dean raises his hand to indicate that he, too, has spent time there. You look up at Castiel from where you’re sitting and he looks a little bashful.

“I spent a year in Purgatory,” he says and you can’t help the slightly unhinged chuckle leaving you.

“There I go thinking I was special,” you mumble. What in the world are these people you’ve ended up with? Is this really who you spent your days with, lived with? These broken, traumatized people, and you chief among them?

Dean steps forward, dragging you from your thoughts.

“So what do we know that can pull someone out of Hell and build mind walls?” he asks, looking between Castiel and Sam.

“Death, of course,” Castiel says, and his face is serious. “And there’s only one other creature that can do both of these things.” You frown up at him, and he turns back to you.

“An angel.”

Gadreel expects the Winchesters to find you but not as quickly as they do. He’s mildly impressed before he wonders if it might be sheer dumb luck. It doesn’t matter, though. You’re back with them, which is what he wanted.

He follows you to Kansas, always keeping his distance. The brothers are good hunters, and it wouldn’t do that they discover him on their trail. Seeing the bunker again, even from the outside, makes him clench his jaw and squeeze his hand into a fist. He doesn’t like to remember what happened here. It fills him with shame.

He is about to leave when he sees you walk out of the bunker again. He stops, watches. He sees Sam, standing behind you, worried look on his face, the only one he seems to wear these days, but then Sam goes inside and leaves you. Gadreel doesn’t understand, doesn’t like��that you are standing out there, still in the clothes he brought you, arms wrapped around you, shivering against the wind.

When you start walking, he follows, keeps lots of distance between the two of you. You make it into town, and Gadreel can see you are shaking from the cold, the tip of your nose turning red.

Why would Sam let you leave? Let you walk away into the winter afternoon? Gadreel’s never been cold, but he’s heard it’s very uncomfortable. Sam is supposed to look after you. Did Gadreel fundamentally misunderstand something here?

When you sit at the bus station, you look around like a scared child. You read the names on the buses coming in and every single one of them seems to confuse and upset you more. This wasn’t what he had in mind when he carried you out into that field, laid you on the ground. He expected you to be taken care of.

He almost does it then, almost walks up to you. Offers you his jacket, maybe gets one of the steaming drinks the people around you are holding in their hands. He has just about made up his mind when a car pulls up and he sees Sam behind the steering wheel.

So Gadreel watches while Sam walks up to you, approaches you like one would approach a skittish animal. Eventually, you leave with him. Good, Gadreel thinks. He’s happy. This is a good thing.

He turns and leaves. You’re safe now.

You grab a book from one of the shelves and sit with it, scanning the pages, shaking your head and frowning every few minutes. Sam watches you, which is why he misses whatever Dean says to him.

“Sam,” his older brother says and drags him from his thoughts. Sam turns to see Dean and Castiel looking at him expectantly.

“Did you hear what Cas said?” Dean asks, reproachfully, like he’s never not listened to anyone in his entire life. Castiel is kinder, and when he sees Sam was, in fact, not listening, he repeats himself.

“The wall is sturdy,” he says, looking between the brothers. “A convenient side effect of it being built so high. It’s unlikely to crumble easily, so I don’t think it’s dangerous for her to stay with you two.” Sam nods.

“Good,” he says, no emotion in his voice. It is good. He doesn’t know what he would have done if keeping you around would have risked breaking the wall. He wants you to remember yourself, your life, him. But whoever built that wall might have saved you. And if it’s between being around you or risk you going mad from the memories of the torture you experienced, Sam wouldn’t hesitate for a second to stay as far away from you as possible. So it’s good, that the wall is sturdy, that you can be around Sam and Dean without constant risk of destroying it. It means he can keep an eye on you.

It also means you’ll never remember him. Will never remember the days and nights you spent together, the life you shared. Will never remember how once, years ago, long before what you had turned from friendship into love, you made him pinkie promise that the two of you would always talk to each other, would always be there for each other. That you would be each other’s person to share all the darkness with, so you wouldn’t have to carry it on your own.

It has to be enough, Sam tells himself, that you’re alive and well. It has to be. He feels like a real piece of shit for the tug of sadness he feels in his chest despite these good news.

You look up then, almost as if you can tell he’s thinking about you. You scratch at your nose before you clear your throat.

“I don’t know if anyone ever told you guys this,” you say, “but it’s rude to talk about someone like they’re not there.” Sam scoffs, opens his mouth to answer, but Dean’s quicker.

“Don’t worry, okay?” he says. “Just figuring out the small print.” Sam’s eyes shoot over at his brother, anger immediately boiling in his chest. It’s not a lie, not really, but it comes so naturally to Dean, to want to keep you out of the discussion of your own well-being, to give you only half the picture.

Just like you’re doing, Sam catches himself thinking. Just like he’s only telling you half the truth, hiding what you were to each other. He’ll need to tell you, at some point. He will. He just wants you to get settled first, experience some sense of normality before ripping it from you again.

“Castiel says it’s safe for you to stay here,” Sam explains, not missing the sideways look he gets from Dean for undermining what he said just a second ago. “It’s not going to affect the wall.” You nod, face thoughtful, like you’re trying to keep up.

“Okay, that’s cool,” you say, then shrug as a small smile spreads over your face. “Cause this place isn’t half bad if you, you know, have absolutely nowhere else to go.”

And just the way you used to, while the words themselves are a little biting, you manage to say it in a way that’s kind. Manage to take the venom out of any uncomfortable facts, make it softer. It’s why you were always good with witnesses. You managed to confront them with the truth while catching them when they fell.

“Cas,” Sam says, breaking himself out of his thoughts and turning to the angel. “Any traces left that might tell us who did this?” Castiel manages to incline his head before Dean steps in.

“Why do you care, man?” he asks, looking at Sam. “What good is it gonna do to find who did this?” Sam raises his hands in incredulity.

“We need to know who it was,” he replies, voice challenging. “If someone’s pulling souls from Hell, we need to know what is going on. And did you forget what Crowley said? About coming to collect?” Dean actually rolls his eyes.

“Forget about Crowley,” he replies. “The mopey bastard’s just talking out of his ass, he’s not gonna do anything. He’s too busy feeling his feelings.” Sam can’t help but scoff, earning him a mean look from Dean.

“I’m sorry,” Sam says, not sorry at all, “but showing up and possessing half a town worth of people doesn’t exactly make me think he’s just gonna forget about this.” Dean opens his mouth, then closes it again. He looks away, a humorless smile going over his face.

“You know what?” he says, looking at Sam again. “You wanna find who did this, go right ahead. But it’s poking the bear, if you ask me.” With that, Dean walks out of the library towards the kitchen. Sam looks after him before he notices the awkward silence left behind by his brother. He quickly looks at you, who’s studying him wide-eyed, and then at Castiel, that ever knowing look on his face.

“I’ll be right back,” Sam mumbles, and leaves the room after Dean. You slowly let the breath you’ve been holding out between your lips as Castiel turns to you.

“Don’t take it personally,” Castiel says, stepping closer to you, laying his hands on the back of the chair opposite you. “They are… going through something.” You nod slowly.

“Yeah, I kind of got that,” you reply, looking after Sam. Then you turn back to the angel. “What happened?” Castiel thinks about not telling you, but the truth is, if you are going to live here with Sam and Dean, you deserve to know. He pulls out the chair and with a deep sigh sits in it.

“Sam was unwell,” Castiel explains in that slow, considerate way he has. “He was dying. And Dean allowed an angel called Gadreel to possess him to save his life, but he kept it from Sam.” You frown, trying to wrap your head around what the man in front of you is telling you.

“So there was someone else living inside of him?” you ask, trying to put the pieces together with what little you know about this world. “Like a stowaway?” Castiel tilts his head.

“That is actually a perfect description of it,” he says and his heart warms when he sees you smile a proud smile.

“But,” he continues, “things went wrong. People died. The angel killed a young man named Kevin Tran. He was a friend.” Castiel now wears a sad expression on his face.  

“And he did that… using Sam’s body? This Gadreel guy?” you conclude and Castiel nods. You take a deep breath. “Jesus. That's terrible.”

The two of you sit there in silence for a moment, while both of you think, Castiel about the boy who died and you about another puzzle piece that you have just collected. You’re staring into the middle distance when you speak again.

“Why would anyone want to live like this?” you ask, voice far away, but Castiel looks up at you. You blink, return the look. “I mean, everything I’ve heard… torture, death, pain. It all sounds…” You don’t need to finish saying what it sounds like.

Castiel leans forward on both arms, hands interlocking on the table while he searches your face.

“There are good things, too,” he says, and he’s not sure if he’s trying to convince you or himself. With the angel factions fighting each other right now, it’s hard to see the silver lining, as Dean would say. But Castiel believes thoroughly in the good in things. The good in you.

“There are countless people you’ve helped,” he says, and you look away from him, almost embarrassed at this fact you don’t remember. “Lives you’ve changed, for the better. Sam and Dean, they were born into this life, but you chose it. You saw that good needed to be done, and you did it.” Castiel smiles sadly at you. “You gave your life to make sure that Sam could keep fighting. That is incredibly brave.”

You need to swallow. You look down at the table, blink, hoping to control your expression. You didn’t know. Chewing on your lip, you look back at Castiel.

“I don’t feel particularly brave right now,” you say and Castiel can see the tears in your eyes, the slight flare of your nostrils that tells him you are holding back tears.

“Maybe you don’t,” he says, “but you are.”

Sam is sitting in the library, book opened before him but his eyes are only scanning the page, he’s not really reading.

Castiel left a few hours ago. He has his own battles to fight right now. Dean’s locked himself in his room to sulk and you went to bed. Sam saw what the day took out of you. You were quiet when he returned to the library, after barely avoiding a shouting match with Dean in the kitchen.

He can’t seem to shut his brain up, so he does what he always does. Settle down, laptop and books close by, focus on something he can solve, something he can do. Like trying to find clues about who brought you back.

But tonight, he can’t concentrate. His thoughts keep going back to you. Almost compulsively he goes over everything you’ve said, everything you’ve done. The way you move, the way you look at him or at others. He realizes he’s trying to absorb all of it, like he still expects you to disappear again any second.

Sam looks up when he hears soft footsteps, and at the sight of you he smiles.

“Can’t sleep?” he asks and you return the smile, carefully.

“Yeah,” you reply. “There’s so much going on. I just can’t stop my thoughts from racing.” Sam leans back in his chair, tries to act casual like you standing there now doesn’t feel like you’ve walked right out of his head into the room.

“You want some tea? That might help,” he asks.

You stop a few feet away from him, hands interlocked in front of you, looking unsure. It’s interesting. Sam doesn’t remember many times of ever seeing you unsure or insecure. You seem to be thinking about his offer.

“Would I…” you start, then continue: “Would I usually drink tea? To fall asleep?” Sam can’t help but chuckle at your question and at himself a little bit.

“No, you weren’t much of a tea drinker,” he responds.

“What would I drink?” you ask, voice curious. Sam tilts his head.

“Whiskey, maybe,” he replies, making you nod.

“Can I have that then?” you ask. Sam smiles back at you, at your careful probing at yourself.

“Of course,” he replies. He gets up, walks over to the bar cart and pours you a drink. Behind him, he can hear you pull out one of the chairs and sit down. He turns, and you’re watching him. It’s striking to see you sitting there. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it.

He’s just putting down the tumbler when you speak up.

“Join me?” you ask and when Sam looks back at you, you’re studying him carefully. Sam nods, then picks up the tumbler again, pours a second glass. He takes both, walks back to the table.

“Here you go,” he says as he passes you the glass, then sits down in the chair he just vacated. You thank him with a nod, then bring the glass up to your nose. Smell it before taking a careful sip. Sam does the same.

“Definitely better than tea,” you conclude when you lower the glass and Sam breathes a laugh through his nose. You point at the mess of papers and books before him. “What are you reading?” Sam looks at the table, takes a deep breath and sighs.

“Records of people coming back from Hell,” he says. “Maybe find some clues about what happened.” When he looks back at you, he’s surprised to see you looking at him again. Watching him like you’re trying to make sense of something.

“Can I ask you something?” you say.

“Of course,” Sam responds, confused by your serious tone.

“And I want you to be honest with me,” you say and Sam nods. You look away before you continue, as if you’re unsure how to say what you want to say, or need to build up the courage. When your eyes finally land on Sam again, there’s an intensity in them that nearly takes his breath away.

“Did I die to save your life?” you ask and Sam feels a wave of cold go over him. He looks down, and a second wave, this one of shame, goes through him. Shame that he was caught in this lie, when he had every intention to tell you the truth at some point.

“Dean or Cas?” he asks before looking back at you.

“Castiel,” you answer, then quickly add: “He didn’t say it on purpose. He was being really sweet, actually, and just sort of… mentioned it.” Sam nods at your words.

“Yes,” he finally says, and despite the fact that you’re sitting in front of him, the pain of talking about it, of remembering what you did is overwhelming. “You sold your soul so that I wouldn’t go crazy from my memories of Hell.” He hears you inhale as you digest this information. You’re quiet for a minute and Sam doesn’t continue, lets you take the information as it comes. But then you speak up again.

“Sam,” you say, and your voice is impossibly soft. “Were we in love?”

Sam looks at you, his heart going a hundred miles an hour. Your expression is attentive, if maybe a little nervous. He needs to swallow before he can even think about answering.

“Yes,” he more breathes than says. He watches you take in his answer.

“And were we… together?” you ask and Sam needs to force himself to nod. If this is too quick, if this is the moment all of this becomes too much for you, he will never forgive himself.

“Yes,” he says again, quietly. You blink, gaze moving from him to the table while you breathe in and out slowly. It’s out there now, and Sam has no idea if that’s good or bad, but then you look back at him, your gaze going over his face as if you’re trying to look for something. Like you’re trying to remember him. Then you look into his eyes and Sam returns your gaze while the two of you simply sit there for a moment.

All too soon you look away, lean back in your chair. You take another sip of your drink, press your lips together.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask then.

“Because I didn’t want to freak you out,” Sam admits, looking at the amber liquid in his glass. “You just came back, all of this is new to you, I thought knowing that we were… that to each other would… I thought it would make you uncomfortable.”

And that word, uncomfortable, is so clear in its meaning that Sam can’t help but think of the two of you together, his hand brushing your hair out of your face when you leaned in to touch your face to his, or the same hand resting high on your chest when you lay next to each other, still naked and out of breath and Sam couldn’t help but look at you, stare at you. You’d giggle at him, tell him to stop being a weirdo but always pulled him in for a kiss after. How difficult it was for you to be seen like that, have him watch you. Like you couldn’t combine what he saw with what you saw in yourself.

You nod your understanding, but there seem to be more questions on your mind.

“Were we…” you start, then pivot. “Was it serious, what we had? I mean…” You shrug, the right words escaping you. Where on the relationship spectrum does sacrifice life for each other fall?

“Yes,” Sam replies, but he also needs to correct himself, because that answer does not cover half of what it was you were to each other. “But it was so much more than that… It was everything…”

Sam stops himself, looks back at you. He wants to tell you, wants you to know what you mean to him but if the plan was not to freak you out, he’s failing horribly at it. But you need to know the truth, so he pushes forward.

“You were everything to me,” he says, and you look shy at his admission, but not freaked out. Curious, maybe.

“This must be really hard for you,” you reply, and it’s not what Sam expected at all. He frowns at you, and you elaborate. “Me not remembering, I mean.” The fact that you would even consider this makes Sam feel a lump in his throat.

“No, it’s…” he continues, shakes his head at himself. “I mean, it is what it is. You were dead. I thought I lost you forever.” He takes a quick breath, steals himself. “And now you’re here. And even if you don’t remember anything, I’m so happy you are.”

You actually look surprised at that. At the fact that Sam could simply be happy to have you back. But it’s the truth, no matter how much the rest of it hurts. Emboldened by your reaction Sam continues, finishes his thought.

“Because just having you around again,” he concludes, “it changes everything.”

“Wow,” you say after a few seconds. “I think I get it.” Sam blinks at you.

“Get what?” he asks. You look shy for a second before you push yourself to continue.

“Why I was in love with you,” you say, a small placating smile on your face. Sam’s heart sings. He can’t help it. When your face turns serious again, he sits up a little to show you he’s listening.

“For all of this to work,” you say and Sam listens intently, “for me to… be here, I need you to be honest with me.” Sam nods like an eager student willing to do anything to get out of trouble.

“Of course,” he says. “I promise.”

“And one more thing,” you add and Sam will say yes to anything, he doesn’t care, just so long as you stay around.

“I want to learn how to hunt.”

[vyzoi]

Took inspiration from @saesbangs they gave me the idea to make a fic where Sae treats me like Rin. Thank you for letting me do this!!

Characters are aged up!

Contains: angst, emotional hurt, stress, overworked, exhaustion, comfort, self insert

There’s an x reader version of this too

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sae is over doing it to me. He signs me up and makes me compete in football matches. He wants me to be the women’s world’s best striker and midfielder. This is a lot of pressure. I’m nothing like Rin and Sae. But I do have Rin’s determination but it’s not enough. Rin, where even are you? I haven’t seen you in so long. It’s killing me not seeing you everyday.

Sae walks up to me and flicks my forehead with his finger. “Ow! You know I space out, it’s part of my neurodivergence.” He picks me up and manhandles me in the process. “You don’t have time to just be sitting on the field and zoning out.” I walk away from him and I walk towards the football in the middle of the field.

Before I could kick off, the ball is already in my boyfriend’s possession. “You can have it! I don’t stand a chance against you.” I still continue to chase him down. All of a sudden something hit me. I’m running faster. “Perfect, keep going darling.” As soon as I caught up to Sae and attempted to kick the ball, I fall right on my ass. I lost balance and his strength really is like no other.

“Half-baked, it was good while it lasted. At least I made you enter a short flow state.” Flow state? No… what is he doing to me? He’s turning me into something I’m not. I curled my body up on the field. “You’re taking it well, you remind me of Rin. Let’s go again, one more round.” I can’t handle it. “I’m tired Sae, let me rest.” He still picks me up anyway.

Before I fell back down to the ground, I look up at the highest stands in the arena. Rin. He’s here I’m safe now. He rushes down to the first row. “What the hell are you doing to her!?” Sae motions for his brother to step down onto the field. He obviously rushes down but he’s not doing it for Sae. He’s rushing to aid me. “My Rin.” I collapse.

I turn my body around and I’m laying at Rin’s feet. He gently picks me up bridal style. “Stop over working her. You know damn well that she doesn’t have the body for whatever this is.” I bury my face in Rin’s chest and started crying. “I’m stressed Rin, I don’t know what’s happening to me either. That flow state terrifies me.” He shoots daggers with his eyes at Sae.

“I’m not going to let her become world’s best at anything. Whatever games you signed her up for, I’m taking them off myself. She’s not playing for good.” I couldn’t help but smile. The world’s best striker, yet still so understanding. “Sae, I want to break up with you. I don’t feel like we’re in a romantic relationship anymore. It feels like you’re manipulating and corrupting me.”

Before Sae could speak, Rin turns us around and walks away. “Just go to sleep, I got you. You’re safe, you’re so safe.” I drift off with my head against his chest. Exhaustion, stress, and overworking, It’s over, those awful things are over. Thanks to my Rin, who knows what it feels like to be pushed too far by Sae.

I wake up in Rin’s bed with a wet rag over my forehead. “Hey, stay still, don’t panic.” That was the softest tone I’ve ever heard out of Rin. “Can I be your girlfriend?” Oh, he was not missing out on this. “Yeah, you’re my girlfriend now. Don’t worry, I will never make you do something like sports.”

I sit up and I wrap my body around him like a sloth. “My Rin.” He sighs. “Yeah, yeah I’m your Rin.” My phone lights up. He grabs my phone and hands it to me, it’s Sae.

“I messed up, look, I really care about you. I just wanted you to become women’s world’s best striker and midfielder. I just thought that since you love both of us… it would be great for you to gain both titles. I’m sorry for overwhelming you.”

Rin grabs my phone out of my hand. He takes a selfie of us with me wrapped around him. He then picks me up and takes a full length mirror of us. “You’re my personal sloth now.” He kisses my forehead. He sets me down on the bed and sends the pictures to Sae. “I would delete his number, but I know how sentimental you are when it comes to both of us.”

He hands me back my phone. Sae left me on seen. I started to tear up. Rin lays me down on the bed again and takes my phone. “Just rest a little longer. I’ll take a nap with you too.”

[ask-postcrash-curly]

*Grub hustles, grabbing bouquets of flowers (which seems to be her thing now?) And dispersing them amungst everyone who showed up in person today.*

Flower meanings are pretty much just made up, I think. So I'm going off this article I found.

First up, Curly!

You get... let's see...

Soldalgo: Positivity and good thoughts for someone going through a time of change

Black-eyed-Susan: Encouragement for a friend. Things are going to get so much better now!

Geranium: Comfort. If anyone could use more of that, it's you!

Pink Tulip: Well wishes, happiness and love (in a platonic sense)

Blue Star: Strength, resilience and perseverance

Alyssum: Worth beyond beauty (this kind of sounds like a backhanded compliment. But I swear it's not! I just think you're great as a person, and I'm glad I've had the chance to meet you)

Yellow Rose: Friendship and happiness

Bee Balms: protection from illness

Dahlia: Dignity and pomp. Hey, it's a day (wait, night?) worth celebrating!

---

The random nurse gets...

Orange Tulip: Understanding and appreciation

White Rose: New beginning (Let's hope!)

Yellow Lilly: Gratitude (why is there no yellow text option???)

Purple Hyacinth: Frogiveness (technically it means please forgive me, but in this case I'm choosing to use it as an expression of grace towards them, privindjng things do change around here)

Camellia: My fate is in your hands

---

Robin! I don't think we've actually talked face to face! But these are for you! Mostly representing how I see your relationship with Curly, as well as just my impressions of you as a person.

Pink Azalia: Elegance, Femininity, Taking care of your family

Yellow Rose: Friendship and happiness (some of these will be repeats, but I hope that doesn't deminish their value!)

Alyssum: Worth beyond beauty

Blue Bell: Kindness. Also used to express gratitude for the friendship, love and support

Pink Roses: Happiness, Gentleness. Often given to the motherly figures in someone's life.

Violet: Loyalty, Devotion, Faithfulness

---

I think I'm running out of room in this message. But Death, Possum, Moth and your crew better not think they're getting out of this! I've got flowers for you punks, too!

-🐛

Hey! Still can't scroll down that article, I'm afraid.

Hah... Thank you. I can see how you'd find most of these fitting me. You really put a lot of thought into this, yeah?

The random—? Oh, you mean the doctor. Swansea called them Doc, so I'm pretty sure it was a doctor. Or he could've just been saying that. ...Camellia, huh? Well, they did put a covering over the light, they did let Swansea in today, and they haven't made me take any more pills, so I'd say things have changed.

These are nice for her... Especially the kindness, hah. What with Kind Words.

More flowers? I'll look forward to 'em. Have to ask, where in the world are you getting all these?

[callumbrooks]

Callum gave a playful tilt of his head, his grin curling up at one side. “Oh, it’s definitely a challenge now,” he said, voice low with mock seriousness. “You can’t just say you’re up for it and expect me not to test that.” His eyes sparkled as he watched her kick at the stones, his expression softening as she spoke more earnestly. He crossed his arms loosely, leaning his weight onto one leg as he listened, really listened, to her words. “You know,” he said after a thoughtful pause, “that kind of drive? That’s rare. People talk about passion like it’s this light, effortless thing, but it’s not. It costs you something. Time, sleep, energy. But when you care — like, really care — it’s hard to put the brakes on. And yeah, maybe it’s not the ‘healthiest,’ but sometimes the unhealthy things shape us into who we’re supposed to be.” He gave her a soft smile, one that felt less like teasing and more like quiet understanding. “That fire you’ve got? Don’t let anyone make you feel like it’s too much.” At her dramatic shrug and the step closer, Callum let out a laugh, running a hand back through his dark hair. “Alone? Oh, wow, that sounds even more dangerous,” he teased, eyes crinkling with mischief. “But hey, I can’t argue with the smoothie logic. I’ll concede that one — headaches are overrated.” When she thanked him, his grin softened into something gentler, more genuine. “You’re welcome, for real,” he echoed, bumping his shoulder lightly against hers. “You’ve got a good energy, Coralie. It’s… kinda contagious.” He raised a brow at her next suggestion, pretending to weigh her words carefully. “Hmm, a heist sounds very tempting — you sure you don’t want to go full Bonnie and Clyde here? No?” He smirked, then gave a quick shrug. “Alright, alright, we’ll go with the simple walk. Keep it classy. But just so you know, I’m taking notes for all future chaos.” As the smoothies were handed over, he held hers out with a slight bow, grinning. “Your royal smoothie, ma’am. Now — lead the way. I’m curious to see where the ever-determined Coralie takes someone on a ‘simple’ walk.”

Coralie was typically a person who was laid back, and didn't mess around. Maybe she was a little uptight, and it would take just the right person to be able to break her out of that shell. "Are you challenging me? I'm always up for a challenge." She kicked the stones beneath her feet, looking up to him as he spoke. He spoke so carefully. Just the exact thing she needed to hear. She lacked confidence when it came to her work. She knew she could make the most beautiful pieces of jewelry, and she was so smart; there was just always something within her that made her feel like she wasn't. Everyone had a little bit of doubt in themselves, so she always tried to brush it off and chalk it up to 'the human experience'. "I put my entire soul into what I do. I lose sleep over it. That's not exactly the healthiest, I suppose, but losing sleep over something you love so deeply- something I have so much drive for- well, it's worth it to me." She felt a twinge of something within her at his words, the way he was so gentle with them. A lot of people were fake, and put on a face to look good. It was obvious that he wasn't one of those people. At his gasp, she gave a big shrug, matching his exaggerated responses. "My apologies. I mean, I had no clue. Would you rather me have called you out... while we're alone?" Coralie moved towards him for a second before stepping back. "I'd beg to differ. A smoothie tastes better than a headache feels." She bit the inside of her cheek as he ordered her smoothie. "Thank you, for real," she told him, sincerity in her words. She looked into his eyes, studying him. "Next up, maybe we can go on a little heist- or maybe just a simple walk. Don't go suggesting anything illegal though- I've got a reputation to uphold."

[cator99]

I always get detained at da border because PROFUNC never ended but basically I'm like if a targeted individual didn't even care

[famewolf]

attacking the random ass woman who was on a loud phone call in the cemetery who walked a full block, while trampling people's graves and told us we shouldn't be touching them

[loumauve]

I snapped today at work, and by snapped I mean I politely commented on a help desk ticket by summing up an mess of an (type of) issue that's come up for at least the fourth time in the 2+ months I've been managing user accounts, and asked the person responsible to fix it (himself for once) because last time I fixed his mess-up it took me two whole days to work out the details with at least four other colleagues from different departments and I really don't want to do it again. there's other shit that needs doing, I've been working 10+ hour days for most of this week already, so I need to cut down not add on more.

(good thing tho - at least we managed to fix the issue where the dataset of a newer employee got mixed up with another one of the same name and therefore wasn't able to apply for any of the access/accounts she needed. technically not entirely my area but it does impact us not being allowed to create an account for her so I figured I might as well track that issue down. took three days and at least three other people, but hey - it should all work out now. yay for that)

[heloflor]

You know, considering how many posts I recently made about Movie Peach and how negative they are, there’s something I feel the need to clarify since I wouldn’t be surprised if people had some assumptions and I don’t want words I didn’t say being put into my mouth (Tl;Dr at the end):

As a completely original character, fully detached from everything other than the movie, I have no issues with Movie Peach. She’s badass in a fun way, spunky, has a few cute faces, and I especially appreciate how despite being a strong female character stereotype she’s very supportive of Mario and builds him up rather than putting him down, it makes her likeable and their relationship very cute.

And yes, this is the way I perceived her from the get-go, but only mentioned it in my movie reaction post made all the way back when said movie came out, hence needing to say it again now. To quote that post: “Least favorite character is DK. It could’ve been Peach but my issues with her stem from how different she is from her games counterpart. If you take her movie character as a brand-new character rather than a game adaptation, she’s actually pretty great as a guide and strong mentor.” And while there are things in this post I now disagree with, this part remains my current opinion.

So yeah, as an original character, she’s pretty great...but that’s also the issue.

Movie Peach is not an original character. She’s supposed to be an adaptation of a pre-existing character who already has her own personality. And as an adaptation, Movie Peach fails at every level. Not only that, but several dialogues keep hyping her up in a way that comes off as Illuminations looking down on Games Peach, you know, the character their own Peach is supposed to be an adaptation of.

That’s why I take such issue with Movie Peach. It’s not the character itself, it’s how bad of an adaptation she is. And if I did my job correctly, every single time I talk negatively of her in my posts, it’s about her as an adaptation specifically. The only instance of me being an ass for no reason is in my table comparison post where I call her a dumbass, which I point out in the tags to be me throwing shade and not something I actually believe.

Now I also want to say that I hate Movie Peach for what she represents and the consequences of her existence on Peach’s character and her perception by the public, so to keep it short I’m going with bullet points:

It annoys me a lot that a multi-million dollars company couldn’t be bothered to adapt her character properly, especially since they apparently closely worked with Nintendo and the concept art very much show them who Peach is as a person (the one where she’s encouraging Mario to fight DK reminds me of the 86 Anime where she keeps having Mario fight her battles while powerless to defend herself; also it’s funny how in the art of Games Peach reacting to Movie Peach it’s obvious the artist had no idea what personality Movie Peach has). The fact she’s a favorite character of mine doesn’t help and makes me feel robbed from seeing a beloved character on the big screen for the first time. And obviously them low-key insulting her by hyping up Movie Peach makes it worse.

Even before getting into the fandom I knew that Peach isn’t the most well-liked character, with many gamers especially finding her bland and boring. This was already sad on its own, but now those same people are praising a character who’s completely different from her for being “so much better” or “finally giving her a personality”. It sucks. Games Peach deserves better than that.

With those things in mind I don’t think I need to explain why the fact this characterization is possibly bleeding out into the games is something I dread. Now I can live with a cover art change, but if they change her actual character I’m going to scream. Especially if they only do it to Peach and no other character. And yes I know some people also pointed out a possible direction change for her voice but 1. for some reason I don’t really care, possibly because she’s been through quite a lot of voice-actors already 2. we only clearly hear her voice in the Showtime trailer during the Kung-Fu part so maybe her voice will differ depending on the costume, it is a stageplay after all, and 3. the Wonder short with Bowser has her let out four noises, one of which has a different tone while the other three keep her usual high octave, so I’m not sure if they truly intend on changing her voice. Haven’t played Wonder yet tho so I can’t speak to all her other voicelines.

Hopefully this will be my last post about this outside of answering asks and reblogs as I’m always open to discussions/debates. I don’t like bringing negativity and especially not drama to my blog but, considering the extensive rant I made about this, it only feels right to make sure people don’t misinterpret where my issues come from, since I can absolutely understand people seeing my posts and concluding that I hate Movie Peach for who she is rather than what she represents.

Now, instead of being negative about Movie Peach I’d rather focus on being positive about Games Peach, mostly through the fics I’m working on.

Tl;Dr: Movie Peach would be genuinely great as an original character but alas she was put inside the skin of someone with a completely different personality from hers. And it's very hard to look past this given the consequences of Movie Peach's existence on how people percieve Peach as a whole now on top of a possible change in her games character.

[attractthecrows]

retconning stroud out of the deep roads so i can shove laure amell and the hawke siblings and varric and anders all into the same little camp. they would all have such a bad time

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

"its okay to take a night off and rest and not do anything productive because youve been pushing way too hard and youre getting burnt out" vs "oh fuck oh god i just wasted the 3-5 hours of free time i get after work and now its 9pm and i have to go to bed soon or ill be just as tired tomorrow" FIGHT

[prlssprfctn]

Jason, being a semi-canonic common hallucination in the family after his death, could lead to the stupidest AU ever.

Imagine everyone seeing him — Bruce, half of the time, Dick non-stop, Tim more often than not, and eventually even Alfred starts seeing little boy's silhouette in the corner of his eye, but he never admits it, because someone needs to stay sane in this family.

It is a lot like real-life cases when cult families start to see collective hallucination, and it somehow syncronises in their minds, so they hear and see the same things, you know?

So, yeah, everyone sees Jaybin around.

Everyone but Damian. Damian is a normal one. He also knows his Akhi is alive and well, so whatever. And it takes him some time to figure out that his family is bat-shit insane, but when he does, he decides to use it on his advantage.

Damian, calling Jason: Akhi, you should visit me. It is getting awfully boring here.

Jason, frowning: You know I can't. They think I am dead, and I can't risk my plan, especially now, when Red Hood is gaining-

Damian: We will pretend you are a hallucination.

Jason: ...What?

Damian: So, there is a plan...

So, a few days after this call, Jason arrives at the Wayne Manor. He still thinks his brother's plan sucks, but gaslighting is one of his many talents, so surely, they will figure something out. He can lie his way through this meeting.

Expect, he doesn't even need to lie. His family is actually insane.

Bruce, bumping in Jason:

Jason, staring back: Uh-

Bruce: Wow. You look so grown-up. And we look so alike. Nice one, brain.

Jason: ?..

Tim, leaving his room: Hi, B, hi- Oh, damn. Hi, Jaybin. Nice leather jacket.

Bruce: Right? I guess his ghost just grows up with us now.

Jason: ????

Alfred, nodding along, out of nowhere: Master Dick will hate it. He looks taller now.

All of them: (peacefully leave the room)

Jason: What. The. Fuck.

Jason waits for the moment of clarity to happen as he chats with Damian in the kitchen, but... nothing changes. They really, really think he is a hallucination. So... he starts hanging out around more. Both because Damian is getting angsty, and because it is kinda... amusing.

Tim, stuck on the same case for a few nights, non-stop: Oh, it is really just me and you in this, Jason.

Jason, playing Mario Cart on the table by his side: Maybe take a nap, dude.

Tim: No, I need to figure out this case with-

Jason, rolling his eyes: Red Hood had already dealt with it. Go to sleep.

Tim: ...You are such a good self-care kind of hallucination.

Jason: ...

Damian: Your bets, when will they realise that you are a real person?

Jason: At this point, I am not sure that they will, even if I start screaming that I am real.

Damian: Fair. I bet a year would do.

Jason: ...A year and a half.

Dick visits the Manor. He cooes at Jason, muttering something about "of course, he would have grown up in a punk," and Jason almost breaks his role to hit him on the head.

Jason, arms folded on his chest: You know, you need serious help, dad.

Bruce, blinking at him slowly: Probably. You know what else I need?

Jason: Sleep? Retirement? To stop adopting strays? The list is endless, man.

Bruce: ...Coffee. I need more coffee.

Jason, groaning: What the fuck!!!

Alfred figures out that Jason is real, eventually. Solely because he catches him sneaking a few extra cookies, and hallucinations are not supposed to eat. He plays along with him and Damian until the very end, anyway.

(Damian ends up winning the bet because Jason loses it once and pushes Bruce down the stairs, when he starts reciting some precautionary tale about him. Everyone is flabbergasted.)

[valleydolli]

First Time with Sukuna

warnings: minors please stay back!

a/n: I was writing this all last night. well, i was roughly writing it and yeah… IT WAS FUN eheheh i love him i just want him so bad i wish he was real ughhh but yeah this is more smutty than the choso one i wrote so let me know if i did okay! please ( ^ω^ ) oh also! i didn’t know there was a character limit on here? so now i know why when people write longe things on here they separate sections! i’ll need to get used to that!!! and if theres mistakes ignore it i didn’t proof read it >:( ♡

You and your boyfriend have yet to have sex. Why? You think his dick is gonna kill you.

~~~

“Are you gonna run?” Sukuna asks with his large hand on your head. “No.” You answer back muffled. “What was that?” He proceeds to turn your head away from the pillow he's stuffed your face into, hoping for you to repeat yourself.

“I won't run Sukuna,” you tell him. 

His lips start to form a boyish smirk, “Good girl.”

Right now, Sukuna has you flat against his California King with his thick length teasing your folds. He’s questioning you right now because you’ve tried to run away from him. Twice. Why? Because your freakishly tall boyfriend obviously has a freakishly big dick. Do you want to fuck him? Yes, of course. But do you want to die? Fuck, no.

“Baby, look at me.” You slowly stare at your boyfriend with a pout on your face. “I’ll take care of you, I promise, okay?” he softly says. You nod your head in agreement as he kisses down your spine. “I’d never hurt you. Wouldn’t dream of it, ever.” He’s leaning over you, staring at you deeply. “Okay, I can take it,” you tell him which prompts his cocky smile you love. You turn your face back into his pillow as you feel your face get hot. “You embarrassed now?” He laughs. You roll your eyes at him, “Just shut up and get on with it.”

“Oh? Now you want me to fuck you? What were you tryna do 10 minutes ago?” He questions as he carefully slips into you. “Relax, beautiful,” he sighs, and of course, you oblige, calming your nerves, waiting for him to fully be inside of you. “That’s it, baby… Fuckkk just like that, you’re perfect, so fucking perfect.” He groans. You feel him stretching you out little by little. He’s massive. You really know how to pick ‘em. “Kuna,” you whine, “I know, baby, I’m not even halfway. You want me to stop?” “No, I can take it,” you confidently say. “Good fucking girl.” Sukuna proudly says to you.

He continues to slowly push his length into your pussy while reassuring you’ll be okay. Sukuna begin to groan to himself “Ha-hah, you feel amazing, fuck, oh baby you’re mine, I’m never letting you go.” He’s finally inside you with his dick sitting snuggly near your cervix “Sukuna, it feels s-so good,” you whine to your delirious boyfriend. “Can I move, please?” You hum in agreement, patiently waiting for him to move. He starts slowly easing in and out of your wet pussy almost passing out at how warm and tight you are. He leans down onto your back, snaking his beefy, tattooed arm around your waist and pushing his his deeper into your hips. Your boyfriend began to grunt in your ear, “You feel so good, I-I don't know what to do with myself, tell me, tell me what you want from me, baby.”

“Fuck me ‘Kuna, ‘nd don’t stop.”

He begins to pound into you like a madman. Sweat dripping onto your face as he groans into your ear. You’re loving this. It’s like you have him on a leash. He’s animalistic, pounding into you with so much power yet so much love. He's obsessed with you. Luckily for the 2 of you, he has no neighbours because, trust, he would have had police at his door for having multiple noise complaints. His thick length is hitting the right spot, every. Single. Time. Why didn’t you make love with him sooner?

“Ohhh, you feel me hah, you feel me in there doll, hmm?”

“I fe-feel it ‘Kuna, mhmm, I love it, love it so much.” He laughs, still thrusting into you manically pleading for your cum. He’s dying for it. “Come ‘ere.” He demands. “Wha-” before you can question him, Sukuna is pulling you up against his bulky chest, wrapping his muscular arm around your neck, putting you in a headlock. “I need you to cum. Can you give me that, hmm?” He proceeds to nod your head for him, himself like you’re his puppet, “ such an angel, you always do as I say, he mentions, and he's right, most things he wants you to do, you do and vice versa, you own each other's hearts. He’s fucking into slowly but roughly and it’s enough for your climax to approach. “I’m gonna cum, ‘Kuna, I- please,” you beg him.

“Look at me.”  He says as he tightens his arm around your neck. You stare at him with pleading eyes, begging for your release. He kisses you lovingly, telling you to wait for him; he wants to finish with you and only you. “I’m with you, baby, let go,” he whispers onto your plump lips. And you do as such, you’re cumming, so hard that your vision turns white, you’ve never felt this way before from sex? NO, this wasn’t just sex, it was love making. You yearn for each other, which is what makes it more beautiful and fulfilling.

You were scared Sukuna would kill you with his dick and he 100% did. You’re sure you died and went to heaven, and you’re still not back yet.

“Are you with me?” Sukuna asks as he pokes and prods at you. “You… You murderer, you're a MURDERER SUKUNA!” You pick up a pillow and smack it on his face continuously. Sukuna takes the pillow you’ve been attacking him with out of your hands and gawks at you,

“Okay, drama queen, let's go shower.”