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honeyryewhiskey · 2 days ago

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mirrored souls

or, dean dreams of what he believes he can never have. warnings ! angst, hurt/some comfort, dean's feelings are hurt, unexpected pregnancy, tough conversations, two ppl with the same fears j's note ! hey so let's not even talk about the fact that this is neither of the two fics i posted snippets of lol idk what possessed me to write 5k fucking words for this i'm sorry i just want to baby trap dean winchester erm idk enjoy? it's sad but maybe pls dont take my word for it i'll continue this and let them be happy also i stopped proof reading half way through bc it is my bed time <3 5k words

He’s had this dream every night for weeks.

The sun is golden, thick with warmth, stretching over endless fields of green. It settles on his skin like an old friend, seeps into his bones, loosening the ever-present tension in his shoulders. The air is clean, carrying the scent of wildflowers and summer, and for the first time in his life, he feels safe. Like he could lie back in the grass, close his eyes, and let the world move on without him.

Then, he hears her.

A laugh—small and weightless, like wind chimes in a summer breeze—rings through the stillness. It stops him cold, strikes something deep in his chest that he doesn’t know how to name.

He turns, and she’s there.

She can’t be older than four, standing barefoot in the grass, staring up at him with wide, curious eyes—green as polished emeralds, too big for her little face. His eyes.

But everything else—her delicate nose, the slope of her cheekbones, the way her wild hair frames her face—that’s you.

She tilts her head, smiling in a way that makes something inside him shatter. Then she reaches for him, small fingers wrapping around his calloused hand like she’s always belonged there.

And just like that—like the break of a wave, like the snap of a thread—she’s gone.

Dean wakes with a sharp inhale, the remnants of warmth already fading, replaced by the cold press of reality. His chest aches, heavy with something deeper than longing. A quiet, creeping fear slithers in, curling around his ribs.

Because she has his eyes and your face—a combination that will never exist.

You left. And you haven’t come back in months.

It was always cat and mouse with you—years of fleeting moments, an unspoken desire for more that neither of you had the courage to face. You’d cross paths, use each other's bodies to release some tension, but never linger long enough to ignite anything real.

Until about eight months ago, when everything changed. You stayed longer than just a weekend. Dean had you in his arms for four months—four months that felt like a lifetime of stolen moments, of finally letting down walls you both had built so high. But when it all started to feel too real, when the weight of it all settled between you like an unspoken truth, you pulled away. You told him it was too much, that you needed space, that you couldn’t do it anymore. You needed to breathe, to step back before it swallowed you whole. And with that, you walked away, leaving him to sift through the pieces of something that was never meant to last.

His heavy hand slams down on the bleating alarm clock beside his bed. The sharp noise cuts off, leaving only the ragged sound of his breathing in the dark. He drags a hand down his face, fingers pressing into his tired eyes, but it doesn’t do anything to clear the remnants of the dream—the sunlight, the laughter, the way she looked at him like he was her whole damn world.

Dean exhales sharply and swings his legs over the side of the bed. Another short night, another dream of something that doesn’t exist, of someone who will never be real. He tells himself it’s just a trick of the mind, a byproduct of too many years spent running on empty. But the truth—the one he won’t say out loud—is that the dreams never started until you left.

And maybe that’s what makes them feel more like a haunting than a fantasy.

He’s spent each day the past four months trying to shove it down, burying it under booze and hunts and half-hearted distractions. But it doesn’t matter how many times he tells himself he’s over it, that he saw it coming. Because he did. He knew you would run the second things got too real, the second you got too close, too comfortable, like maybe you wanted this life with him.

And then, just like his dream, you were gone.

You never said it outright, but he knew—deep down, you were always more like him than you wanted to admit. Built for the road, for the chase. Love wasn’t something you stayed for.

Except you never really left, not completely.

Every now and then, his phone would ring, and it’d be your voice on the other end—casual, distant, asking about a hunt, about a lead on something nasty you were tracking. Always avoiding the bigger conversation, never asking how he’s been, never giving him the chance to ask where you are.

And Dean let it happen. Let you keep him at arm’s length. Because at least this way, you were still something in his life.

But now, sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands, the dream still fresh in his mind, it pisses him off.

He stands, yanking on a t-shirt and running a hand through his hair before heading for the door. He just needs coffee—something to shake off the lingering ache sitting heavy in his chest.

But the second he steps into the hall, Sam is there, hovering with that anxious look that never means anything good.

“Hey,” Sam starts, lifting a hand like he’s trying to calm a wild animal. “Before you go in there, just—don’t freak out, okay?”

Dean’s stomach tightens, his muscles tensing. The look he cuts Sam with makes the younger brother’s eyes widen, searching for words to mediate and settle the storm brewing at either side of him. “Sam, what the hell are you—”

Before Sam can answer, Dean hears it.

The sound of pacing. Quick, uneven steps against the kitchen floor. His body goes still, his breath catching in his throat. He doesn’t need to see you to know.

You’re here.

Dean’s pulse pounds in his ears. His stubborn rage choking out the glimmer of childish hope that sets his nerves on fire. He stares at Sam, waiting for some kind of explanation, but Sam just shifts on his feet, uneasy.

That’s when another sound cuts through the silence—your voice.

Muffled, pacing, like you’re muttering to yourself between shallow breaths.

Dean swallows hard, his jaw clenching as he pushes past Sam. His mind is already racing, his thoughts a tangled mess of you, his dreams, his heartache and the damn voice in his head telling him to grip you tight enough so that you can’t leave him again. Whatever this is, whatever brought you back, he’s not in the mood for it. Not today. Not after all this time.

But when he steps into the kitchen, the world tilts on its axis.

You freeze mid-step, eyes wide, hands curled tightly around the edge of the counter as if you’re holding yourself together, bracing for something. For him, maybe. Your posture is rigid, your whole body taut with tension. You look… different. There’s an unreadable heaviness in the way you stand, the nervous bite of your lip as you chew it—like you’re preparing for a blow, for him to lash out, to reject you.

A heavy silence falls over the room, thick and suffocating. His heart hammers in his chest, but there’s no anger now, no easy target to aim it at. Just this painful, aching pull between what he wants and what he’s afraid to hope for.

“You…” He’s barely able to get the word out. His throat feels tight, words caught somewhere between anger and something much softer, something more dangerous. He’s not sure which one is scarier.

You glance at him, then quickly look away, the uncertainty in your eyes like a crack in a mirror he never thought he’d see. Dean feels something in his chest twist—familiar, painful, like it’s been waiting for you to come back and break him open all over again.

His mind is a whirlwind. He wants to be angry—hell, he’s had four months of anger built up over your disappearing act. But standing here, with you so close, he realizes just how torn he is inside.

He wants to scream at you, demand to know why you didn’t come back sooner, why you couldn’t have just stayed. But that’s not the real question, is it? Because deep down, a part of him knows it wasn’t just you who ran. It was him, too. He shut off long ago, convincing himself it was easier that way. He was easier that way.

But you? You always seemed to slip through his defenses.

Dean stares at you, struggling to find his voice, his hands suddenly feeling useless at his sides. The walls he’s built up for his entire life—years of anger, bitterness, and pain—are cracking, piece by piece, and he has no idea how to stop it.

Dean crosses his arms, trying to shove down the storm already brewing inside him. “Well,” his voice is rough with sleep and something dangerously close to hurt. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

Your spine straightens, and just like that, the tension shifts. Whatever nerves had you pacing seconds ago are buried under the sharp edge of your own attitude. “Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly plan on it either.”

Dean scoffs, a bitter chuckle, the undertone to the eye roll he throws you. “Oh, great. That makes me feel real special.”

“I…” You hesitate, fingers digging into the edge of the counter before you let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know what I’m doing here, Dean. I don’t know if this is the right thing, or if I’m just—” you stop yourself, biting your lip again. You were never as good as he was at hiding your pain. It’s evident now, in the vulnerability in your eyes that cuts through him, raw and unguarded, and it makes everything inside him spin faster.

Sam clears his throat. “Why don’t I give you guys some space?” He glances between the two of you, clearly ready to escape the tension.

Dean doesn’t look at him, just stares at you as you stand firm, the scowl on your face trying desperately to cover the sadness in your eyes. The fact that you’re asking for anything at all should piss him off. After months of the half-hearted check-ins that only ever came when you needed something, after the way you left—why should he give you the time of day?

But he can’t say no.

And that scares him more than anything.

Sam nods to himself when neither of you protest and slips out of the kitchen, leaving you and Dean in thick, suffocating silence.

“Why are you here?” His voice comes out quieter than he intended, but the question hangs in the air, laced with something deeper, something that sounds too much like hope. A falsehood he’s terrified to acknowledge.

You take a shaky breath, your shoulders slumping just slightly, as if the weight of being in the same room as him is too much to carry alone.

Dean takes a step toward you, his feet heavy on the floor, his chest aching. His instincts shout at him to pull away, to protect himself from the inevitable hurt, but something else—something buried deep inside him—begs him to go closer.

The words come out before he can stop them, quieter now, barely a whisper. “I don’t know if I can do this again, are we gonna keep pretending we have nothing to talk about?”

You wince, a flicker of pain crossing your face, and it rips through him. He wasn’t trying to hurt you, but he can’t stop the words. He can’t stop the fear, the resentment, that’s built up over all this time.

"I don't know if I can just act like nothing ever happened between us. Like you didn't leave me. Like..." His voice breaks off, his throat thick with emotion he’s been swallowing for far too long. He’s not even sure who he’s trying to convince anymore, you or himself.

His hands are trembling now, and he clenches them into fists, fighting to keep the storm inside him contained. But every time he looks at you, sees the way you’re standing before him, so tired and lacking the fire that he always adored. That you’re here now when he never thought he’d see you again, it pulls him under a wave of emotion he can’t quite place.

“I don’t know how to do this, not after everything,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “You can’t just waltz back in here and expect me to be okay with it.”

Your eyes fill with regret, but there's something else too—a quiet understanding. You know what you’ve done. You know what this looks like, but still, you're standing here. And that small, painful spark of hope flickers in the pit of his stomach.

“Can we just sit and talk, please?” Your voice is soft, pleading. And this time, you don’t look away.

Dean stands there, his whole body tense, his mind screaming conflicting words in the crosshairs—walk away, stay. But something in your gaze, in your quiet desperation, tugs at him. For a moment, he’s paralyzed—conflicted in the most unfamiliar way.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he nods. “Fine. But we talk,” he jabs a finger at you, his brows set with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat, “really talk. No more running.”

You nod, your shoulders relaxing, just slightly, and Dean wonders, not for the first time, if maybe—just maybe—he’s still capable of believing in the possibility of this. Of you.

His eyes narrow, the weight of years of unresolved anger and hurt pressing down on him. But despite it all, despite everything you put him through, he can’t seem to dig his heels into this anger. Not when you’re standing here, so close, with those big, pleading eyes that always seemed to strip him bare.

The years of touch and go, the broken promises, the words left unsaid—they all float between you, a suffocating fog that neither of you knows how to break. But Dean’s tired. Tired of fighting this pull, this pull toward you he can’t seem to ignore, no matter how many times you leave.

With a frustrated sigh, he crosses the kitchen, the hard floor beneath his boots clacking louder than it should. He grabs two chairs from the worn wooden table, scraping them across the linoleum as he sets them down. Wordlessly, he nods toward the seat beside him.

“Sit,” he mutters, his voice rougher than he meant it to be.

You stand there for a moment, the air between you thick with things left unsaid. And then, quietly, you take the seat next to him.

Dean can feel the weight of the moment in every fiber of his being. He doesn’t want to look at you. Not yet. Not until he’s ready to hear whatever it is you came to say.

The silence stretches on, thick and uncomfortable, as you sit side by side, neither of you knowing how to begin.

Finally, you clear your throat, a small sound, but it’s enough to break through the tension. “Look, I know I don’t have the right to ask you for anything. But… can we just talk, like we used to? No games. No running away this time, okay?”

Dean stares at the table in front of him, his fingers tapping restlessly against the edge. Your words hit harder than he expected, and for a second, his chest tightens with something raw and unfamiliar.

“I don’t know how to do this anymore, you know?” he says quietly, almost to himself. “Every time you leave… it’s like you take a piece of me with you. And I’m just left here picking up the pieces, wondering if you’ll ever come back.”

You wince at the admission, and it hits him harder than he wants to admit. He doesn’t know why he said it—maybe because this is the first time in years that you’re actually sitting here, facing him. Maybe because it’s the first time in years that he feels like you might actually be willing to stay.

You reach out, placing a tentative hand on his, stilling the tapping. And for a brief moment, his breath catches.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Dean,” you say softly. “I never wanted to be another person who hurts you.”

to forget the months of silence, the aching space you left behind. He wants to pull you close, bury his face in your neck, and pretend none of it ever happened—that you never walked away, that he never let you.

But reality crashes down just as fast.

He can’t let himself go there, can’t let himself believe this is something he can have without it slipping through his fingers. So instead, he exhales sharply, shoving that fragile part of himself deep down where it belongs. His jaw tightens, and when he finally speaks, his voice is rough, edged with his angry armor.

“Then why did you leave?” he grits out, his voice quiet but commanding. He needs to know. Needs to understand why the person he thought he might finally let himself love disappeared without a trace.

You pull your hand back, lips pressed tight. “I—”

The silence stretches between you, thick and heavy, like the weight of months spent apart. Dean’s still trying to wrap his head around what’s happening, why you’re here, why you’re sitting beside him, but something shifts in your expression.

You take a deep breath, eyes falling to your lap before lifting to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you say, the words soft but full of weight. “I’m sorry for always running off. For disappearing when things got too real. I know it’s not fair.”

Dean’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt. He doesn’t know what to say, what to feel.

“I was scared,” you continue, voice breaking just a little. “I still am. I…” Your words falter, but then you press on, searching his eyes for understanding. “I was consumed with this fear of losing it all. That I’d attach myself to you and this life would rip you away.”

The quiet admission sits heavy in the air. Dean feels his heart thudding faster beneath his rib cage. A pang of regret washes over him, for never admitting he shared that fear. That he thought he would be the thing that rips you apart. And maybe if he had, you wouldn’t have felt alone in those thoughts.

You run a hand through your hair, a nervous gesture, and he watches the movement, the tension in your body. “I didn’t think I could do this. I didn’t think we could do this. I don’t see a world where something like that survives,” you shake your head, lost in the thoughts that shuffle through as you try to find your words, “Where… where we get a happy ending.”

Dean feels his chest tighten, his pulse speeding up as he takes in what you’re saying. The words hang between you, both of you holding your breath. And for a long, painful moment, the only sound in the room is the distant hum of the refrigerator, a constant reminder that time is still moving, even when it feels like everything’s frozen in place.

“I’m not saying that I don’t want it, Dean,” you add quickly, your voice cracking. “I just—I don’t know how to believe it’s possible. But I didn’t come here to ask for you to take me back.”

Dean stares at you, his pulse hammering against his ribs. There it is—that damn crack in your voice, the one that always cuts through him like a blade. He wants to be angry, to hold onto the bitterness that’s been festering since you left, but it slips through his fingers the second he sees the way you’re looking at him. Like you’re scared. Like you don’t expect him to want this.

Like you don’t expect him to want you.

His throat tightens, his fists clenching at his sides as he fights the urge to reach for you. “Then what do you want?” His voice is quieter now, rougher. “If you’re not here to ask me for anything, then why come back?”

You open your mouth, then close it, searching for words. Your fingers twist in the hem of your jacket, your shoulders curling inward, like you’re bracing for him to tear you apart. And damn it, that does something to him, because he’s never wanted to be the reason you look like that.

Dean drags a hand down his face, trying to ground himself. His mind is a battlefield, waging war between the fear clawing at his insides and the need to fix this—fix you. But how the hell is he supposed to do that when he’s still not sure how to fix himself?

“You don’t know how to believe it’s possible?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, join the damn club.” His chest feels too tight, his voice breaking under the weight of it. “You think I had some fairytale idea of us, sweetheart? That I thought this would be easy?” He lets out a breath that’s more of a laugh, humorless and hollow. “Hell, I don’t even know if I’d be any good at this. But you didn’t give me the chance to figure it out, did you?”

Your eyes squeeze shut, a tear slipping down your cheek before you can stop it. And God, he hates that. He hates seeing you cry. Hates even more that he’s the reason for it.

“I was scared,” you whisper, your voice breaking apart like shattered glass. “I am scared.”

Dean swallows hard, his anger flickering, giving way to something deeper, something more painful. He’s scared too. He’s scared as hell. Of not being enough. Of screwing this up. Of losing you all over again.

But when he looks at you—when he sees the way you’re trembling, barely holding yourself together—it hits him. He’s not the only one drowning in this.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair before finally, finally stepping forward. His hands hover for a second before settling on your arms, grounding you. Grounding himself.

“Yeah, well,” he mutters, softer now, “I guess we can be scared together.”

You drag the backs of your hands across your cheeks, trying to contain the tears that just won’t stop flowing. “No, Dean, you don’t get it—” you cut yourself off with a groan. Your breathing is coming out uneven as anxiety pulls at your every nerve, and suddenly you can’t sit still. You can’t do this.

You’re up on your feet again, pacing slightly as you try to steady your breathing.

Dean watches you, his stomach twisting as you distance yourself. There’s a wild, frantic energy in the way you move, your arms wrapping around yourself like you’re trying to hold yourself together. Your breath is uneven, shaky, and those damn tears keep slipping past your lashes no matter how hard you try to blink them away.

His fingers twitch at his sides, itching to reach for you again, to do something—anything—to stop that panicked look from overtaking your face. It melts his resolve, steadies his rising temper.

His voice comes quieter this time, hesitant. “Hey—what’s going on?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you press the heels of your hands into your eyes, shaking your head as if you can will away whatever storm is raging inside you.

Dean’s chest tightens. His mind is running through every possibility, each one worse than the last. “Sweetheart,” he tries again, the pet name easing off his tongue as if no time had passed since he last called you that, “talk to me.”

"I... I didn't catch it in time, I'm sorry." You start, your voice barely more than a whisper, the words thick with something he can't quite name. Your eyes squeeze shut as if the simple act of speaking is too much.

Dean’s chest tightens, a knot of confusion twisting in his stomach. “What the hell are you talking about?” His tone is gentle now, trying to coax it out of you, but the moment you raise your eyes, he sees it—the fear, raw and trembling beneath the surface.

He’s on his feet again, closing in on you like you’re a scared animal that’ll take flight from any sudden movement.

“I just thought it was stress making me miss my period again, but…” You choke, your voice cracking as if admitting it out loud is tearing something inside you apart.

Dean’s breath hitches, and his heart races, but he doesn’t dare interrupt you, his own confusion giving way to a growing sense of dread. He takes another step toward you, but you flinch, eyes shimmering with tears that slip through your heavy breathing.

You finally break, the tears turning into sobs that shake your shoulders. You shake your head, wiping at your face again, as if trying to push it all away. But it’s too late now.

“I’m scared, D.” You gasp the words out, the weight of them crushing you. “I’m so scared.”

Dean’s chest tightens, a cold sensation creeping down his spine, even as his heart lurches in his chest. He can feel the tremor in your voice, the rawness in every syllable, but he can’t make sense of it. The world seems to slow, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place—but not quickly enough for his mind to catch up.

“What… What are you saying?” He asks, his voice quiet, strained with confusion and something that feels dangerously close to panic.

You glance up at him, eyes wide and glassy with tears. You open your mouth, but the words seem stuck, lodged in your throat. The silence between you is deafening.

Finally, you take a deep breath, almost like you’re gathering the strength to face something unbearable. “I’m pregnant, Dean.” The words fall from your lips in a broken whisper. “I’m pregnant.”

Dean freezes. His entire body goes still, as though he’s forgotten how to breathe. The weight of your words hits him like a freight train, and for a moment, everything goes silent except for the pounding of his own heart in his ears.

Pregnant.

His mouth goes dry, his thoughts scrambling, trying to make sense of it all. The pieces click into place—the missed periods, the way you looked at him when you walked in, the way you wouldn’t meet his eyes.

His dreams.

He takes a half-step back, his mind too far behind, too rattled by the weight of what you just said.

And then, slowly, it hits him—this isn’t just a shock; it’s a bombshell. One that could tear everything apart, and yet, at the same time, it pulls something from him that he hasn’t felt in a long time. The edges of his world begin to blur. He’s scared. He’s terrified.

“Are you… are you sure?” His voice comes out rough, almost panicked, like he’s waiting for you to tell him this is some sick joke, but he knows it’s not.

You nod, sniffling. "I took a test, I went to the doctor and they told me I was already four months along." you whisper, choking back a sob. "I didn’t know what to do."

Dean steps closer, his hand instinctively reaching out to steady you. But you flinch again, the space between you thick with everything you’ve never said to him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to tell you. I could have just called, I should have—” Your voice cracks, and you finally meet his gaze, eyes full of everything—regret, fear, and a raw, aching vulnerability that threatens to break him.

Dean's heart races, the panic starting to crawl up his throat. He wants to scream, to tell you that he’s terrified—that he doesn’t know how to be a father, that he’s too broken, too fucked up to raise a kid. The thought of something happening to you, to your child, terrifies him in ways he can’t even put into words. But you’re standing there, so small, so vulnerable, looking at him like he’s the only one who can fix this. And damn it, he has to be strong.

He closes the distance between and pulls you into his arms before either of you can second guess it. His hands are warm and steady on your back, but inside, his mind is a storm. His pulse is erratic, his breath shallow, but he holds you close, trying to give you the comfort he doesn’t know how to find for himself.

“Hey,” he murmurs against your hair, his voice like a lighthouse to steer your sinking ship. “Everything’s gonna be okay. You’re not alone in this.”

You shake your head against his chest, a shaky breath escaping. “I’m so scared, Dean. I don’t know what to do.”

He pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression soft but full of intensity. His thumbs pushes away your tears, warm and rough against your skin. “You don’t have to know right now,” he assures you, trying to convince himself as much as you. “We’ll figure it out. One step at a time. I’m here, okay? We’ll get through this.”

Inside, though, his mind is spinning out of control. He doesn’t know how to be the man you need. He doesn’t know if he can even be the father this child deserves. But in this moment, he��s all you have. And somehow, he knows that no matter how badly he’s freaking out, no matter how scared he is, he’ll find a way to make this work—for you, for the little life growing inside of you.

He gently strokes your hair, pressing his cheek to the top of your head, grounding himself in the act. “We’ll figure it out,” he whispers again, his voice thick with the promise of something more than just words.

But inside, the panic churns, a rising tide he can’t escape. He holds you tighter, pretending for your sake that everything will be fine, even as the weight of the world presses down on him.

edit to add tags why do i always forget tags @titsout4jackles @floralscented @deansbeer @snowluvvie @ultravi0lence14

#dean winchester #dean winchester x fem!reader #dean winchester fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst

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greensagephase · 3 days ago

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Hi, guys

Before you continue reading, I ask that if you disagree with my sentiments mentioned below, you refrain from sending/leaving hateful responses.

I will not tolerate that.

Be mindful.

Be compassionate.

Be respectful.

Be a decent human being.

Today is over a month since I was last here. I'm sorry for disappearing for the entirety of January, but I haven't felt mentally nor spiritually well to be on social media, even tumblr, which is realistically one of the very few apps I use.

I didn't plan on taking this break, which has been (I think) my longest break from this app by far.

I had originally planned to take a few days off to rest after the holidays and looked forward to getting back on the app a few days later, but as the days went on, I found myself with a feeling of impending doom.

I know it's probably not easy to tell through a screen, but I'm the kind of person who tries to remain positive and strong in the midst of hard times. I always try to be uplifting and/or offer comfort as best as I can to myself and those around me; family, friends, and even acquaintances and complete strangers, who strangely feel compelled to share with me the difficulties they are going through sometimes.

However, I've found it difficult to remain positive and strong these past few weeks, but especially the last few days. Some of you may know, or maybe don't, but I'm located in this country: 🇺🇸.

I won't go into detail, but there's a lot going on rn and so much of it has been affecting me emotionally, and it's the reason why I've been trying to avoid social media; to balance my consumption of news/updates. I've found myself throughout the days feeling an array of emotions: sadness, worry, anger, disbelief, disappointment, heartbreak, helplessness, surprise...

Although I've been experiencing pretty much every negative emotion possible, I'm trying to regain my strength, positivity, motivation, and hope. It's much easier said than done, but I'm trying not to let myself sink further into this negative bubble.

I debated taking a few more days off, but I've genuinely missed being here and I also didn't want those of you who care to keep up with my shenanigans to wonder about me and think that I'm abandoning the fandom, or something like that.

I'm still here, very much loving on our fav Spider-Man. I will continue to write -- something I haven't done since my last fic update in December, to be completely honest, but definitely looking forward to doing again -- and share it on here. I'll also try to be more active and catch up on notifications over the next few days at my own pace.

Thank you for reading this update. I hope you guys are doing well and taking care of yourselves.

Pls stay safe out there

Alondra❤️

#alondra yaps 🍂#it honestly feels weird but good to have opened this app 🥺

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delight-angelsbliss · 2 days ago

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Don't you notice how I get quiet when there's no one else around?

Heh I wanted to post this sooner but here we are

welcome to my February valentines special that will go on for the full duration of February!!

You may choose a prompt and Character from my list and request<3 this is actually my first ever special/event I'm doing lol S1 prompts from 1 - 11 are by @/novelbear they're really cool and have amazing prompts (^-^) there also inconsistent small and large texts so it's actually readable cuz it gets cut off sometimes lol!! I'd also recommend that when requesting u say which Season ur prompt is from for example "S1 nr 4 with ___" u can also request up to 3 prompts in one! I'll try my best to use it all<3 everything can be requested as platonic!! Edit: can you guys please specify gender and if it should be hcs or not? As much information as possible would be nice and helps alot

S1 Cute scenarios<3

Spending all day watching cute crafts and baking to do

Rom com marathon!!

Trying (and maybe) failing to make food heart shaped

Realizing you both have contrasting views on valentines

"Baby, I love you, really, but if I eat one more piece of chocolate I'll throw up"

Making the same reservations at the same time but different restaurants and/or the same one

"I thought you'd at least ask me to be my valentines" "we've been together for years, I thought that was a given"

Both not caring much abt valentines but get dragged to a double date by friends

"How much did this cost?" "Does that really matter?"

Spending the night walking through the city silently

Begging your partner to get matching sweaters until they say yes

Buying couple shirts and deciding the whole day which one to wear that u completely forgot ur date

Not leaving bed at all

Going to the carnival

Double dates

Confessing with a love letter

first kiss together on your first valentines

getting proposed on valentines

Picking grapes together

Making heart cake pops and eating them but they fall down

"I think I deserve a kiss"

"You didn't have to do all of this!" "Yeah, which is why I did it for you"

"I wish everyday could be like this"

"Is it just me or do your lips look softer than usual?"

"We don't have to go out"

"I can never get enough of of how pretty you look"

Ordering in and watching crime action series

"You remembered?" "Of course I did, I love you"

Trying to do pilates together only to fail miserably

Writing a love letter only to throw it away but they find it

S2 Yandere scenarios!:

"I just got some very wise advice from a wise woman..." U can ask more abt this btw and I'll explain a bit more what I mean with this

"Gosh, you smell so good when we cuddle like this"

"Do you think I enjoy punishing you?! I don't!"

"Tell me how much you love me"

"I'm jealous of the way you are happy with them but not me"

"This world is a ugly place, you're too beautiful for it"

"I know I'm sick in the head, but you'll be my cure"

"I love it when we're so close together like this"

"Of course I'm jealous! You're mine, not theirs!"

"Dont you get it? I would die for you if you asked me to"

"Your skin is so soft"

"I just love the last souvenir of your eye so much that I'd like the other one please"

"I could kill you if I wanted to"

"I live for you, you're like my oxygen"

"If you run, I'll break your legs"

જ⁀➴ ♡ Matchups

I actually do match ups which isn't really known cuz it's in my rules and dni lol but I do make matchups in case anyone wants one<3 this was added on 20:37 on 4th of February which is a bit later than this was posted

For a match up I need as much information as possible it's also allowed in a platonic form

If there's a preferred age range and gender

Hobbies

Likes

Dislikes

Special interests

And more would be needed (^-^)

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asha-mage · 3 days ago

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cauthor, "snow"

[Send me a fandom, character, or pairing and a one word prompt and I'll write a quick drabble for you!]

Mat lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling beams of the inn, trying to ignore the way the heat sweltered around him. The blankets had been thrown back, and the window pushed open to allow a semblance of a breeze in, and yet still sweat rolled down his body, soaking into the sheets.

Did I really used to wish for summer to never end? He wondered as he closed his eyes and opened them again. He swore that if he exhaled steam would come out.

“If this keeps on.” Mat murmured turning his head into Rand’s shoulders. “The world will cook in it’s own juices before I reach Tear.”

Rand shifted slightly and made a soft sound of acknowledgment. Like Mat he was down to his skin and dripping with sweat. He had been down his shirt sleeves already when Mat had finally given up on to warm ale and the chance of getting Talmanes to dice with him and retired to his room to find Rand waiting for him, but the Cairhien Palace must have been cooler then this dusty roadside inn because he had quickly found himself down to his smalls and then his skin as well.

“Do you want to go back to my rooms?” Rand asked groggily. Ostensibly Rand had come to talk about the plan for Sammael- as if their were any details of real meaning left for them to discuss. It was always the same excuse when he used a gateway to just pop into Mat’s room at the end of the day’s march though he usually varied his questions at at least a little- was there anything more to put in place? Was Mat moving to quickly? What do you think of the way this decision by Bashere? The truth was well….

Rand traced a single finger down the edge of Mat’s shoulder, nearly to the crook of his elbow.

For a moment Mat was tempted. It was to hot and humid here for even the prospect of a proper tumble to sound appealing. But if Rand opened a gateway to the palace in Cairhien then there would be gai’shain to fetch water, maybe even arrange a cold bath. Their would be chilled punch, and damp clothes and all those little luxuries that were the due of the Dragon.

“If my soldiers are attacked.” Mat said. “I can’t be a hundred miles away sipping ice water.” He wanted to protest the heat wasn’t that bad and they had felt worse in the sand hills at high summer. But he couldn’t bring himself to lie quite that badly. At least not to Rand. The Red Band would get lengthy speeches about the heat back home or in the Waste if they groused. But Rand always saw through his bravado.

Rand made a noise of acknowledgment and started to trace his fingertip up Mat’s arm back to his shoulder.

For a while they lay there, listening to the muffled sound of the limp harp somewhere far bellow them. Then Mat licked his cracked lips and decided, some things were worth the risk.

“Can’t you just…” Mat began then trailed off at the last second. Rand turned his head to stare into Mat’s eyes. The moment stretched out.

“Can’t I just…what?” Rand prompted.

Mat licked his lips again. They stung. It was infuriating that it could be this humid and his lips could be so dry.

Mat wiggled his fingers. Rand let out a short, choked laugh.

“I thought you didn’t approve of…” Rand began then wiggled his fingers.

Mat was glad for the heat for just a moment, since his flush hid what otherwise would been a very noticeable flush. “I don’t.” Mat insisted stoutly. “But I’m also not the Dragon. Light man! Dosen’t it violate some order of the world for you be to cooking like the rest of us? Shouldn’t a friendly sparrow appear to fan you with it’s wings or something?”

“It must have gotten lost with the wolf that was supposed to lead me out of danger when I was a lad.” Rand replied dryly. Their where a thousand stories like that- each more insane then the last. Mat had to hear them all from credulous soldiers who wanted Mat to confirm their truth, and acted as if his denials did exactly that.

They sat in silence for a while, but it had become another kind of silence. There was a tension there. Nothing serious, but something more familiar. Something closer to what things had been like back in Emond’s Field.

Rand hummed softly, letting the silence drag out and Mat fume. He knew what Mat wanted. And he wanted it too. But he’d rather lay there all night claiming it was enough to just sleep shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm, then pass up to the chance to make Mat pry open his jaws and speak the words himself. It’s was infuriating and the smug smirking bastard knew it.

Mat didn’t think he had ever loved anyone quite so much.

“I have discovered that the reason women are all unreasonable.” Mat announced staring at the ceiling. “Is nothing inherent to being a woman. It’s because they have to deal with bloody men all the time.”

Rand snorted and Mat elbowed him in the chest.

They sat in silence for a little while longer. Then Mat blew out a breath.

“Please can you just….cool us down a bit?” Mat asked. Rand’s smile broadened. Mat knew he sounded petulant, but instead of pointing that out Rand lifted his hand.

Mat didn’t see anything visible. He never did, and he was grateful for that. There was a part of him had always wanted to asked what it looked like- saidin. Every man feared it, deep down somewhere and tried to avoid thinking about it if at all possible, but Mat had a habit of thinking on the things others ignored. He used to imagine that it must be like a pure dark liquid that drank all the light and swirled about rotting something in reality whenever it was used. But the look on Rand’s face whenever he channeled, the spark that appeared behind his eyes- like he was truly living for the first time, every time- it didn’t fit somehow.

A thin grey mist formed overhead, growing denser and denser until the ceiling beams were hidden by miniature clouds swirling. Mat watched in awe as something appeared and floated down from that cloud- a tiny white flake. He held out his hand to catch it and the tiny bit of snow turned to water against hot palm almost instantly.

The temperature in the room began to drop as more flakes of snow fluttered down and the heat of the room seemed to…drain out of it somehow. It wasn’t like stepping into a blizzard after being in smoke house. It was more like the tiny snow flurry was…eating the heat of the room somehow.

Mat shook his head in wonder. “You are a bloody show off, you know that?” He said the words through smiling lips though.

Rand chuckled and shifted slightly to grin at Mat. For a moment the Dragon, the Car’a’carn- it was all forgotten. For a moment he was just Rand again- with the same look he had after driving off a wolf with his bow, or being the first up the old oak behind the Winespring. Purest pride and joy.

Their was nothing Mat could do, but kiss him.

#WoT #WoT Fanfic #Wheel of time #Wheel of Time Fanfic #Cauthor #Rand al'Thor #Mat Cauthon #WoT Book Spoilers #TFOH Spoilers #drabble challenge #no beta we die like mat's dignity

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synergysilhouette · 2 days ago

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How the mighty have fallen--but will something better come out of it?

I stopped playing "Choices" a few months ago and it's WILD to realize I haven't played "Fictif" since it stopped 3 years ago as well as "The Arcana" when it finished around the early days of "Fictif" (I think), but I feel like I'm experiencing the first nostalgic era of the digital age when it comes to mobile games; the mid to late 2010s was the best era of mobile games, it seems. Of course, after doing some digging, it's WILD to hear about the downfall of the companies that made these games. Nix Hydra (maker of "The Arcana" and "Fictif") is a rabbit hole that I can't even begin to explain, and it's content quickly became second priority when acquired by Dorian, despite Dorian saying it would still prioritize NH's content, instead taking the back seat to Dorian's own app--the app of which I liked in concept, but not execution. In any case, some members of the team from "The Arcana" and "The Last Legacy" from Fictif, as well as other games, made the indie Red Spring Studio company, with their first game "Touchstarved" (which had a Kickstarter that FAR EXCEEDED it's OG goals by 8x; one of the goals included a Nintendo Switch port). I think the game comes out at the end of this year, so I'll be excited to see how it goes. Unfortunately, their Kickstarter page has their updates limited to backers (people who helped fund the project) only, which IMO limits the exposure the game gets, but let's hope for the best.

As for Pixelberry, apparently they've had issues for years, and last year they had massive layoffs and were acquired by an AI company, so...there's that. Plus it seems they're still smut-focused and even the early 2024 art was victim of AI usage, maybe before that. To recooperate their costs, PB closed out two of it's other apps, and while still generating content, is losing the trust of fans, especially since, from what I've seen on their newsletters, they're focused on more "content" for established franchises--which doesn't mean sequels or spinoffs, but often a short book. Anyway, three of their creatives have went on to found Candlelight Games: the Head of Design was once the ex-creative director at PB and helped write "Bloodbound," "Blades of Light and Shadow," "Most Wanted," and "Endless Summer"; the Head of Narrative was an ex-head of Choices and helped write "America's Most Eligible," "The Nanny Affair" (man, the switchup is CRAZY), "With Every Heartbeat," "Distant Shores," and "Ride or Die"; and the CEO was the former VP of new games, an ex-head of Choices, and ex-head of Hollywood U. As someone who became disappointed with many Choices books when the decade hit, this feels promising. The company's first project, "Project Spellstruck" (codename), is expected to start releasing this year.

Seems like the mid-2020s may have me more engaged in interactive mobile games that haven't been exciting for half a decade. Check out these stories and spread the word!

#candlelight games #project spellstruck #touchstarved #touchstarved game #red spring studios #the arcana #nix hydra #fictif #dorian #choices #choices stories you play #pixelberry #pixelberry studios

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ablobwhowrites · 3 days ago

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yandere dandys world y/n idea? Maybe?

Hear me out on this idea. Like cause I like boxten a lot. I like the funny musical man. (Also toodles and pebble and coal are platonic yanderes only)

Plus this is just a idea for a y/n but I don't know if it'll ever be a official y/n I'll write for unless you guys like this idea.

Imagining boxten y/n. Who mostly is besties with poppy and over time he sees how strange the other toons are acting but thinks he's overreacting and just him overthinking. Plus him taking the baking classes with sprout and Cosmo takes up a lot of his time and it's almost 24 hours that y/n has been taking these classes and of course y/n wants to get better and make the perfect cake but sometimes when the classes aren't scheduled it's almost instantly that Cosmo or sprout need help with something that consumed a lot of time.

Y/n sometimes wants to go on solo runs again but almost Everytime a other toon sees him a elevator and immediately joins him or calls y/n over and cause he doesn't wanna be rude, y/n let's the toon go with him in the run or if called over for something just gets out the elevator to help but once in a while he is able to slip in a solo run for a bit but tries to be quick a run but when he comes up from a run thinking he got back in time. It's either poppy or vee standing in front of the elevator door when he comes back up and poppy is like "I could cover for you! You don't need to just wander off, you could get in big trouble." But the Vee is just sighs and is angry that y/n wander off again and now y/n has to hangout with Vee for a week so that Vee won't tell any toon that he snuck out.

I do imagine one time in a run. Y/n was getting back to the elevator a twisted tried to drag y/n back away from the elevator but goob was on the run and was able to grab y/n back and after goob would keep the twisted as far away from y/n as he could and scraps would check up on y/n from time to time on the run before getting back but I do imagine when y/n was first attached by a twisted, there was a lot of arguing among the toons for who was in charge of distracting the twisted because y/n could have gotten killed by only got away with some minor scraping on his arm.

During Christmas time I do imagine that likes to try and help bobette, rudie and ginger with puting up decorations and rudie just telling stories about Santa and y/n standing there like "...so a fat guy in a red suit breaks into people's houses and leaves presents but takes only sweets a milk? Won't he get sick?" And rudie is like "your right!...but Santa loves cookies what could we do to trade cookies and milk?" And end up asking Cosmo and sprout to make some kind of sweet that Santa could eat and just rudie and boxten y/n just yapping about Santa clause.

Bobette just going along with y/n's and rudie's "full proof" plan of seeing Santa clause and making a pillow fort next to the Christmas tree to make sure they'll be able to see Santa clause. They don't because they got tired and coal found them and end up sleeping next to the trio. Toodles joins and rudie tries to set up a camera next to the tree to catch a picture but ends up getting a picture of peddle or coal next the to tree.

I imagine astro always checking up on y/n to make sure his dreams are nice ones but sometimes sees y/n have nightmares and tries to stop them but only successfully a few times. Shrimpo is kinda a bodyguard to boxten y/n a lot of runs together. Like pacing left and right looking out for twisted's and making sure non of them get near y/n. Also during Valentine's day I imagine y/n finds a very nice flower but the stem is slightly crushed and y/n knows who is from.

(anyways this is just my idea but if you like it, you guys can request more and I would love to yap about it. But that's it for my yap session, please don't be shy and request ideas for fics or y/n's and for now please stay safe and drink water!)

#yandere x male reader #x male reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male x male reader #male reader #yandere x darling #random talks #yandere dandys world x reader #yandere dandy world #yandere dandys world #dandys world x reader #dandys world #yandere x y/n #x y/n #boxten y/n

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aliennazero · 3 days ago

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☆Headcanon: brother-sister coding, hear me out

I need to get this post done before whatever that will happen in chapter 192. So even if I only got two more days for this theory to be around, I'll be glad that I finally let this out from my chest after a while. So, don't take whatever I will ramble about as something super serious.

First of all, maybe you guys will look at me and says, "what the fuck Alie they're like two different unrelated characters" and while that's true for now and so far, I just... can't really took my eyes off from this "siblings coding" the more I read Chainsaw Man. And I have some reasons and theories why (disclaimer: I did a crazy reach all over the direction) and I found it very interesting.

Reason no. 1: Their First Meeting & Re-occurence

Hirofumi is the first part 1 character that Asa meets (even before Denji). So, I think it's reasonable for me—the reader to be intrigued on what is Fujimoto's plan for their seemingly "not important" (but why be the first?) relationship.

My initial thought is that: oh, they might become friendlier in the future or even become lifelong enemies. Then I remember Hayakawa Family—Aki and Power as the first ever Denji's buddy, specific on Power.

Because even though narratively and character writing-wise Power and Hirofumi are fundamentally different, both of them are written initially to form false narratives that they'll become a token love interest for our protagonist(s) aren't they? They also share a somewhat similar strawberry cake motive, makes me wonder why.

Alsoooo, I think the way Hirofumi & Asa's Devil Hunter Club "date" being portrayed as very differently from Hirofumi + Denji and Hirofumi + Fami "cafe date" (a.k.a. work-related mandated date) is important, somehow.

Reason no. 2: Personal Motives and Untold Family Narratives of Asa Mitaka

We know since the very first time we met her that Asa is very lonely and her motives circling around getting a companion (either a boyfriend or a friend) and living selfishly (which as we can see right now is backfired rapidly, but I'll talk about this separately later, maybe in the future).

However, there's one aspect of her motives that's kinda underlooked, and it's her relationship with family member. Yes, we got a glimpse of Asa and her mom (never with her father so far) and Asa with her lovely pet—Crambon, however they already died years ago, and Asa blame herself for it.

It's unfair that in this world, she still had her family, as they said. So maybe she already gives up on that idea. Which is where the true weights of this headcanon come from. What if, she still could have it? Even though she never asked for this directly. Her getting a family again that she was maliciously accused of unfairly having, could be very nice, actually. Even if it's a very insufferable or a miserable mess workaholic kind of brother (or twin brother).

Reason no. 3: Hirofumi's Motives

This deserves its very own post just like my plan to talks more about Asa's living selfishly motive but to make it simple, Hirofumi lied at the very start because he already formed a parasocial relationship with both Asa and Denji by giving them options to have a somewhat nicer normal life (Denji not becoming Chainsaw Man, and Asa making a distance from Denji to prevent her from turning him into her weapon and thus also prevented her to feel down because of the guilt) even though he knows that another choice never really exist to begin with.

(Asa doesn't necessarily have to be his sister to add more depths to this motive. I just think won't it be very funny if Hirofumi was like collecting information all around, confirming that Asa Mitaka is indeed the incarnation of War Devil in weird case then he took a look at her Koseki then boom they have the same dad!? What the fuck was that. Here comes new responsibility that his father left behind, I guess)

As what we know so far, Hirofumi took his job and his responsibility very seriously and very neat about which one he could improve or "change" for everyone's sake involved. IF Hirofumi and Asa are indeed siblings (or half siblings) however, this gives more explanation on his involvement and his own personal interest. Hirofumi is not easy to read, but he still overshares to Asa (chapter 121 when he agrees on Asa's takes about solitude) and "taking care" of her.

Reason no. 4: Just Take a More Look at Them

Taller than average? Check. More athletic than average? Check. Insane face card? Check. Unbelievable amount of yearning? Check. Arguably suicidal? Check.

Both of them being a human stuck in status quo between human vs devil war like hostages in their own prison—Hirofumi stuck as hollow used cop for Public Safety and Asa stuck as War Devil very own vessel—with absolutely nothing, no one really on their side (Fumiko and Fami as mean of even more control over both of them)? Check.

Even as concept alone, child soldier and war maiden incarnate siblingsm could be developed to be something, very interesting.

Okay, now into more theories territory.....

Theory no. 1: Asa and Hirofumi are the Result of Kishibe Fucking Around and Found Out Post Quanxi Rejection Era

Why Kishibe would do that? Idk but it's a funny math because if Kishibe is in his early 50 now then 17 years ago would be him in his 30s. If Kishibe become devil hunter in his early 20s and meet Quanxi shortly after that and become buddies for 9 years then, the year just lined up lmao. How much chances of them being an oopsies baby thus explaining their very different last names but strangely similar physiques and even narratives? Not zero.

There are two options regarding this though. It's either they're twin siblings or half siblings. Half siblings mean they have different mothers but same dad, and twin siblings mean they have same mother but got separated at some point during their lifetime (Hirofumi went with Kishibe and Asa went with her mama who probably re-marry or just simply raising Asa alone and lying about her dad getting eaten by devil or something because her love story with that drunkard crazy man is just that bad).

Kishibe avoiding child support for 17 years and this is the consequences, also both of them got their ass kicked out by the very same lesbian who rejects their father, I'll say it's a beautiful storytelling.

Theory no. 2: Sinister Look on Vol 17 Cover and "Hirofumi will appear in Asa's Dream"

We will get into a more sinister area here because I believe the Makima-esque vibes, "necessary evil" narratives Hirofumi brought up to the table are not coincidences or neglectable at all. Even more sinister because his cover is him standing in front of alleyway just like how Makima cover is her in front of the door in Denji's dream.

Which led me to think that this could indicate something. However, kinda different on how it was portrayed, I think this make things clear that Hirofumi is not endgame antagonist since his cover came a bit too early than what we—the reader anticipated (there is absolutely no fucking nobody in the fandom that expecting Hirofumi to get a cover during before the cover reveal). However, he might be the key into Asa's end dream reveal later on.

Maybe he will appear on her dream being vague as fuck, or maybe direct her dream into a more "false happiness" directions since all he did is lying (see reason no. 3) to distract her focus on dead chickens. Personally, I think the latter will be more interesting because it will be the opposite of what Makima did in Denji's dream, if this "Hirofumi will appear in Asa's dream sooner or later" theory is true. The government and the church need Asa in her stable conditions to unleash Yoru anyway.

"Then what does this imply into your siblings theory"—because siblings should take care of each other, ideally. And I think it will add more depth, if true of course.

Theory no. 3: Hirofumi Cares About Asa (maybe more than what we see on-screen)

To put on more disclaimer, this is just what I imagine to fill out the gap in between narratives and it connects to reasons number 3 (again). Despite how he positions himself and blending in the crowd like invincible, Hirofumi is actually easy to care and feel guilty too (and the reason why he could kill the Immortal Brother assassin in part 1 is because he has the ignorance privilege, but with both Denji and Asa? Not so much).

I have no strong basis for this theory I just have my own feelings and a dream, and this is basically what I think Hirofumi has done so far for Asa (subtle) in the story:

Hirofumi just let Yuko loose and kill Asa's bullies during Justice Devil Arc. This may sound dark, but it fit his character in a way that he's okay with doing violence as long as it could benefit his mission (and maybe this time his personal interest too). Because he knows Asa got bullied at school. If this could solve her bullying problems, then why not? That's why Hirofumi is just sitting around during the whole fight until Denji interfered.

Hirofumi is the one who brought Asa to hospital after Falling Devil Arc (which is somehow in line for how I think he's Denji blood-giver in the same arc). Because well, I don't think Public Safety cared enough to get her conditions checked, but Hirofumi is aware about her injury conditions (arguably this is so that she could be a bargaining chip for Denji but we know that the main chip is Nayuta, I think Hirofumi just want to let him know just because also let me have this imagination for the sake of this agenda).

The reason why Hirofumi didn't or more likely can't kill Asa during CSM Church Arc is not necessarily just because War Devil has become stronger. Paneling focus on their face's expressions indicate that Hirofumi just can't bring himself more to do so (after he saw Asa's hand and her in pain), thus making him fail this mission to capture War Devil dead or alive. It's the guilt kicking in.

I think Hirofumi is somewhat relieved after he saw Asa's hands are back (yay) in Aging Devil Arc. Also, that's what he put his focus on FIRST after he got vomited out before asking his own situation even.

Personal View and The Main Takeaway (really): I need this to be real just because I think it will be so fucking funny

To end this unbelievably long ass post, I think it's important to note again that they have like five screentime together and I'm just insane. But if I should be honest, this is not me being rational at all, I just think the whole situation would be funny up to seven more factors if my ramblings are true.

Because this headcanon imply that the fandom meltdown towards them (as individuals or as in characters dynamics) is unnecessary at all. Like aside from Hirofumi being read mainly as queer, maybe him acting kind of mean and nonchalantly distant (and somewhat awfully playful) towards Asa are just because he like being petty and doesn't want to look like he wants to bang his sister (as a sister myself, yes I do feel the need to annoy my other siblings whenever I can just because I could and it doesn't have to be hatred, sometimes it's the love aggression kicking in).

Lastly, thank you guys for coming to my yapping ted talks.

#chainsaw man #chainsaw man part 2 #yoshida hirofumi #hirofumi yoshida #mitaka asa #asa mitaka #csm #chainsaw man theory #headcanon #fan theory #character analysis #unpopular opinion #I'm like half joking in most of these but #headcanons taken seriously #hirofumi and asa siblingsm really ended up living rent free in my brain #high af yapping #im going insane #nooticing #i think i'm just crazy at this point but it will make sense istg #likely won't be true but I'm glad it inhabit my brain for some times they are very dear to me #funtime idea for siblings: let your friend kill your sister's bullies at school and act idgaf because “you don't get paid enough” for it #funtime idea for siblings: try to kill each other off #another funtime idea for siblings: prank former japan minister so now he is stuck in ageless time prison #not funtime idea for siblings however: falling in love to the same blonde weapon human guy with chainsaw on his head #both looks like pathetic wet cats living in cardboard cutouts abandoned in my eyes #when I wrote this I thought to myself “how could I shove Kishibe into this situation” so I did #is this even a coping because I myself don't even 100% believe in it

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weepingalaxy · 1 day ago

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i would like to hear your mossman essay... always looking to appreciate more women (especially the half life women. god bless alyx but i think she's the only one not relegated to an expansion or trapped by Misogynistic Writing)

TAKES A DEEP BREATH. anon youve opened the flood gates with this one i have so so so many thoughts about her. these may not make sense because english is my second language and i have probably some form of dyslexia But. i hope. itll make enough sense to offer something interesting to the table

so. judith mossman. aka the perfect example of learned helplessness and how it makes you look to the past

..i have no idea how to start this in a way that isnt kinda forced so youll have to bare with me okay.

i think the core of judith as a character can be summarized by those guys who look at something in history and say "if i was there i wouldn't have done that, rip to you but im different". there's been a misunderstanding about judith in that she "glorifies" the black mesa incident, when thats never what she does or what i understood alyx's comment about her as? see, judith doesn't say it to gordon in person, only talking about the science of teleportation with him (which i'll get into), it's alyx saying how judith has gone on and on about how it should've been her in the chamber that day.

that's not a "i wish i couldve been the one to cause the incident" or glorifying what the incident did or anything, that's a "if i was there it wouldn't have happened" as frivilous and ridiculous that is to imagine for us, the players, as people who saw what happened. but she didn't see it, all she knows is something happened in the test she applied for, and gordon's at the center of it

i believe judith resents gordon. not only because he took the position she wanted/applied to, but because she blames him for the incident happening in the first place. why else would she believe things would've been different if she was there? the way she talks to him is with this surprise and focus on what eli is going to feel about gordon's arrival, then talking about her own knowledge on the teleportation technology, it feels almost like... what would i call it. showing off? but not by saying "i" or "me", but by saying we. yes it's kleiner's technology, but imagine what they'd do if they knew what we've been doing with entanglement. she's the only one who talks to him about the technology like that, and it's like she's trying to prove she's as capable as him? i guess? especially when she still props up gordon's intelligence and says she's happy they get to work together. she wants to prove even more she could've been the one at the chamber but never saying it outright to his face.

and of course, this resentment is why it's easier for her to work with wallace breen to bring gordon to him. if you had a way to ensure the safety of the people you care about, and it'd require the capture of a man you believe was the catalyst for the end of the world, wouldn't you at least like... consider it?? not to mention the way she acts with breen is very... submissive, like maybe she's been with the combine for a specific reason that he can dangle over her head that makes her unable to go against him. the safety of eli, a way to live somewhat comfortably if her wearing a pristine off-white turtleneck is anything to go by, god knows what else.

augh. sorry my brain's losing steam but like. i need to at least mention: her going after the borealis after she breaks free from combine (and, most of all, breen) control is something i took as not just her trying to find something useful for the resistance, but also like... a way to apologize/make up for what she did? but without asking for forgiveness? she went to the fucking arctic to find one of the most valuable pieces of... tech? ... most valuable artifact? Important Ship, specifically so she can fix everything. and how will it fix things?

the borealis has weird temporal elements that lets you go back in time.

of course the woman who's focused so much on the past and the "what-if"s would go looking for something that would let her fix things in the past

#not art #judith mossman #half life #half life 2 #also something something this is why im glad epistle 3 isnt canon because What do you mean alyx just kills her. What the fuck laidlaw #theres also shit about how she talks to alyx and how she seems to look down on her n treat her like a kid but #look theres more to her than just the betrayal shes so much more and no one gets it #also im like 90% sure shes supposed to be a hl2 version of that unused female scientist that you couldve played instead of gordon #did you know this. did you know you were originally able to select either gordon or (at the time) gina #thats why i think judith looks kinda like gina if you think about it. red hair in a bun. talking abt almost taking his job.#yeag #anyway

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kowbelll · 3 days ago

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Dairy Queen Dream

Word count: 1,030

I'm so sorry that this took me so long to write, but here it finally is! Big thanks to @sleepyminyard for the encouragement! I'm considering making a second part someday, but I'll let you guys decide. Also, if you've seen American Assassin, I used Victor's name and description (kinda) from that movie to help myself visualize better. My sincerest apologies for the slight angst, but I hope you enjoy!

Stiles walked into work with a sigh. He was officially an employee of Dairy Queen for a whole week, though it already felt like it had been a year. He thought working at a fast-food establishment would be easy; he was wrong. Training nearly killed him, thanks to that stupid ice cream machine. Maybe it was his clumsiness that made using it such a struggle, but he believed the thing had it out for him. If his Jeep wasn’t in grave shambles and didn’t require every penny he had, he might consider walking away and finding some other job. But alas, Dairy Queen was a necessary evil.

He supposed it was sort of fun sometimes. He enjoyed discreetly tossing a few bits of candy into his mouth now and then, and talking to the costumers in the drive-thru with the headset made him feel like he was receiving orders from his captain on a spaceship.

However, he already had six little burns on his poor fingers from the fry oil, and he accidentally exploded another blizzard yesterday – the fourth one thus far. The manager gave him a warning, but they both knew that Beacon Hills’ DQ was quite understaffed. They needed him, or someone like him. Stiles was the only applicant in many months.

Hearing the bell above the door chime, signaling that another customer was entering, he made his way over to the counter, not paying any attention to what was in front of him. “Welcome to Dairy Queen. What can I get for y-” Stiles froze as his eyes made contact with hers.

Just looking at her made his face flush, turning a deep red, and his hands suddenly felt clammy. He had never seen someone with such pure beauty. Every little detail pierced him as his gaze took her in. She was almost overwhelming.

Her smile at the awkward moment reeled him back in and he cleared his throat, blinking a few times. “Sorry, uh... How can I help you?”

As she gave him her order with that euphonious voice, he felt dizzy. And when the blizzard she asked for was the exact same as his favorite (since he was five years old), he almost felt out of breath. He couldn’t stop the grin that formed on his face. Stiles was smitten!

He could see it all, right then and there: the sparkling ring he’d put on her finger, the long white dress she’d wear, the quaint home they’d live in together, the fuzzy puppy they’d adopt. Everything would’ve been perfect. Until he watched painfully as a tall, well-built, Ryan Gosling lookalike wrapped an arm around her waist and began listing his order too.

A pit formed in Stiles’ stomach, making him nauseous. He knew nothing about the guy, yet he already hated him. He unknowingly blocked out everything he said, too busy with the jealousy that began to spark inside of him.

He rubbed his forehead, trying to get his bearings. “Um, what was that?”

An annoyed sigh left the ‘man’ before he recited his order again: the most disgusting concoction Stiles had ever heard. Yep, he definitely hated him.

Stiles stared at him from around the corner as he made his blizzard, s He was too consumed to notice his hands drifting away from the mixer, causing ice cream to splatter everywhere, including all over him. “Fuck, not again...” he muttered, his eyes closing and his head tilting back in frustration. The only bright side was that it wasn’t her blizzard that exploded.

That stupid guy had the nerve to look over and laugh, pointing a finger at poor Stiles. “Oh shit! Is it baby’s first day? Do you need a napkin?” he mocked, followed by more obnoxious laughter.

Holding back because he knew his manager was in his office, Stiles bit his lip. To his surprise, a voice did come through to defend him.

��Knock it off, Victor. He’s just trying to do his job.” The angel of a girl stepped in front of him and urged him to take a seat in one of the booths. She then looked back at Stiles and gave him a sweet, sympathetic smile, which he returned. “I’m really sorry about him.”

“It’s alright. I’d probably laugh too.”

“Maybe, but that wasn’t just a laugh...” She lowered her voice as she continued, embarrassed by her boyfriend’s actions, “That was an outburst.”

Stiles suddenly felt horrible for her. The look on her face showed that this wasn’t an unusual occurrence, and the guilt she clearly felt wasn’t fair. Everything inside of him told him to hop over the counter and save her – run away with her, hug her close, and make her feel safe, loved, and appreciated. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option, and Victor looked like he could knock him out with one good punch.

“Hey, really, it’s ok. Don’t feel bad on his behalf.”

Her smile partially returned. “Well, thank you. I’ll make sure he gives you a good tip.”

“Alright, I’m looking forward to it,” he said, chuckling.

With that, Stiles quickly wiped up what he could and made a new blizzard for the douchebag, this time without making a massive mess and a fool of himself. Once all of their order was together, he carried the trays to their table, making sure to flip both of the blizzards. He completely ignored Victor’s existence and focused on the beautiful smiling angel instead.

Walking away was harder than he thought it would be. In the short amount of time since he met her, he somehow grew attached to her. He couldn’t explain why or how, but he knew he felt something strong for her.

He decided that watching her enjoy a meal with that scum was too much for him to bear, so he went on his lunch break and got some fresh air outside. He hoped that he’d at least see her lovely face one more time before they left, but when he came back inside, they were gone, just a crumpled ten-dollar bill left in their place, and his heart cracked. Stiles had no idea if he’d ever see her again, but he certainly hoped so.

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afterthelambs · 3 months ago

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This 20-yr old cartoon is basically the plot of Arcane

I'm not exactly surprised so many people jump to classify Jinx a terrorist since she kinda fits the Western stereotype of that (although that's debatable since she doesn't have a concrete ideology or organization), but I guess I'm a bit surprised the real world commentary is flying over some people's heads in a way that gets them to justify Piltover's response as valid or write off Jinx's response as unreasonable.

In my opinion Jinx was partially intended to be a deconstruction of the terrorist stereotype by interrogating what causes someone to be like this in the first place. They deliberately gave her bomb/ explosion motifs, plus she's literally firing a missile at a tower of politicians. It's meant to evoke a certain imagery but you're not supposed to stop there. Youre supposed to ask "okay well why did it get to this point and how could this have been prevented?" and the answer to both those questions is Piltover.

Season 2 takes this further by asking what's the difference between a terrorist and a revolutionary. It's not a coincidence that Piltover (the oppressive regime) is the one framing her as a terrorist while Zaun sees her as a revolutionary symbol. In reality, she isn't either of those things (not completely) but no one sees her as Jinx-the-complex-person because of the dehumanization someone in her role gets subjected to, from both sides.

Piltover and Zaun are not the same. I really don't think you can both-sides-are-bad this conflict at all, particularly when one side possesses all the resources and power for centuries. You can debate about whether it was handled properly because yes the writers have biases and I think the depiction of fascism and revolution was rushed and clumsy, but I do appreciate the attempt at real world commentary.

#and before anyone says anything no she didnt fire that rocket for Zaun. as i said shes not a revolutionary #her reasons for doing that are complex and personal and since she never explained it herself we can only infer #maybe i'll talk abt this again some day bc the way her mind works is fascinating. i love her writing #all the female characters are complex but her writing in particular scratches the right itch in my brain #the dehumanization she went through from both piltover and zaun is so good. the only ones who see her for who she is are isha and sevika #and even THEY are pushing her to be a revolutionary figure for the greater good #i wish more of the story was devoted to the conflict between the nations but it seems the plot is moving towards the magic elements #arcane #my post #arcane season 2 #arcane s2 #jinx arcane #arcane jinx #arcane analysis #arcane meta #arcane spoilers #arcane s2 spoilers

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keicordelle · 2 months ago

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While we're here: thinking about Gaku coming out.

Gaku who is bisexual and more or less comfortable with that fact. It's a part of him, why shouldn't he be?

But he knows full well that his father would not be.

Sosuke's not a strictly prejudiced man. He is perfectly comfortable with Anesagi, and with Re:vale, and receiving affection from another man bothers him no more than receiving affection from anyone.

But if it were Gaku...

Gaku's supposed to be a sex symbol. It's what he was trained for. What he was bred for, the singular reason his father bothers with him at all. It's been drilled into him from adolescence, ever since he hit puberty and graduated from generalized "how to be a star" into "how to make women love you."

And Gaku doesn't really care that his father would disapprove. At least, he tells himself he doesn't. The old man never approved of anything he did; why should he start now?

But still. He wishes he would. Wishes he could be as true to himself as he pretends to be. Loud and open and proud.

But it's fine. He likes women. Loves women, even. And if he has to keep his interest in men a secret, well. Just another sacrifice for the sake of his image. His father's image.

#this was supposed to be “gaku comes out to his father specifically” but it ended more general #maybe I'll write out a gaku yaopapa coming out scene at some point #i think Gaku would be brash about it. very “this is me and you're gonna deal with it whether you like it or not”#but inside he's a 5 year old kid again desperate for his father's approval #that or he just brings home a man one day and tells his father to deal. but i don't think he'd force anyone else to do that with him #no need to drag some unsuspecting lover into his father's reign of terror. especially when sosuke is known to go to extremes to get his way #he'd probably consider in. fantasize about it. and then dismiss the idea #anyway. I'll think about it some more #everyone loves some good old fashioned Gaku angst right #idolish7 #i7 #yaotome gaku #gaku yaotome #~k

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osamusriceballs · 2 years ago

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Ten Nights

Iwaizumi x fem Reader

Warnings: NSFW

Words: ~ 1,4k

About: A series of your most important moments with Iwaizumi- from your very first meeting to your relationship! Smut included~

___________________

"Go, ask for her number!"

"What? Why should I do that?"

"You've been eyeing her all night, Iwa-chan."

The brown-haired setter grins and takes a long zip from his drink, apparently not bothered by the annoyed grunt from the former ace.

"Quit it."

His eyes roam towards the bar, towards the direction of the woman he just bumped into- you. Your shy but polite smile, the way your cheeks reddened when you held eye-contact with him, and how you smelled so good when he walked past you- you positively put him under a spell. And Oikawa- of course- witnessed the whole thing and non-stop teased him about the little encounter.

One deep breath later, and Iwaizumi silently grabs his phone and heads towards your direction- with a slightly nervous smile on his face and hope in his heart.

2:04 am - Iwaizumi: "Hey, it's me- Just wanted to check if you're home already."

2:06 am - You: "Hey, Hajime! I'm home safely. Thank you for worrying <3"

2:07 am - Iwaizumi: "Sure. I had a great time tonight- wanna hang out sometime again?"

2: 07 am - You: "I'd love to! Maybe lunch tomorrow?"

2:08 am- Iwaizumi: "Text me the time, and I'll pick you up."

2:08 am - You: "Perfect. See you then <3

2:08 am - Iwazumi: "See you tomorrow, y/n. Can't wait."

xxx

Iwaizumi runs his hand through his hair once again, nervousness clouding his features, yet he still manages to look handsome, even when he's simply leaning against his car.

He looks at his phone again, reading your short "I'll be there in a sec <3" for the third time, hoping to appear a bit calmer on the outside than he feels on the inside. Will you like his outfit? Will you like him? Will you think he's an arrogant guy, trying to impress you with his fancy car? It was his first big investment after his first salary, and it's something he'd wanted to have for forever, but if you-

His train of thoughts gets interrupted when you suddenly open the door to the apartment complex and immediately blink a few times to let your eyes adapt to the sunlight.

You're beautiful. The color of the dress compliments your hair, your make-up making your features more charming, and the smile on your face- stops his heart for a second. You're absolutely breathtaking.

"Hey!" You still smile when you step closer to hug him- and he allows himself to get lost in your flowery scent for a few moments while he wraps his arms tightly around you. "Hey." He returns your smile and quickly steps back to put a respectful distance between the two of you. He smoothly opens the door to the passenger seat and playfully bows while keeping eye contact to see the slight blush that he loves so much appear on your face. "Shall we?"

xxxx

It's perfect.

The perfect date, the perfect moment, and the perfect person. It feels natural when he holds your waist and leans down to slowly bring his lips to yours- and fireworks erupt in your stomach when he finally kisses you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and return the kiss, enjoying how his body feels perfect against yours and how perfect this moment is.

Your very first kiss with him.

xxxxx

"Please- I need you-"

You gasp and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him down towards you- and he is quick to connect your lips with his once again. His hips are rutting against yours, and you feel his hand moving under your panties to tease your clit, causing you to slightly bite into his lip in surprise. You pull back with wide eyes, but there is a hungry glint in his features, and his fingers rub your clit one last time before he pushes two of them inside after finding out that he's got you soaking wet with just a bit of dry humping. Not that he's any better, with the hard-on he's been sporting ever since you moaned his name when he had kissed you in the car.

"S-sorry," you gasp, and your thumb brushes against his lower lip but he quickly shakes his head with a grin on his attractive face.

"That was hot, baby."

The nickname turns your cheeks even redder, and he suddenly curls his fingers inside of you, causing you to gasp and arch your back against his body.

"Like that, baby? Don't worry, I'll take care of you so well tonight."

xxxxxx

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." You stop fidgeting with your fingers and focus on Iwaizumi, who is sitting right next to you.

"You sure? You seem so absent. "

"I'm just nervous."

"Why should you be nervous? You're with me, baby. Just you and me."

You smile and lean in for a quick kiss in the busy cafe- and decide to let it off your soul right here and now.

"I know. I was just thinking about how I should tell you that I love you. That's all."

You try to sound calm and collected, but the slight shaking of your voice reveals your true feelings.

You're nervous about being vulnerable.

About confessing your feelings, and taking this big step first, and you just hope that he feels the same.

Iwaizumi freezes- his attractive face not giving away what's going on in his head- and then the realization seems to sink in. He almost breaks his cup with how fast he's smashing it down on the table before he cups your cheeks with his hands and looks deep into your eyes.

"I love you too, y/n- So, so much."

xxxxxxx

"Please move in with me."

"Huh?"

You raise your head from his chest and look into his sleepy eyes. You blink confused, slightly shifting your body into a more comfortable position on top of him while the roaring sounds from "Godzilla" echo through the room.

Moving in so suddenly?

But it's moving in with Iwaizumi. How could you say no to that?

"Okay."

xxxxxxxx

You're without a doubt overwhelmed and don't know what to say when you look at the man in front of you on his knees- and towards the ring in his hands.

"Will you marry me?"

xxxxxxxxx

One of the most memorable moments of your wedding is without a doubt Oikawa's face- full of happy tears while sobbing "Congrats, Iwa-chan, y/n-chan," and how he tries to give his speech in which he declares that it was him who brought the two of you together, while clearly being drunk already.

The moment that you will truly never forget, however, is Iwaizumi's face when he sees you in your wedding dress for the very first time. Absolutely stunned, full of love and admiration, and it was all for you.

The way he gently held your hand during the ceremony, and how he simply wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up to carry you, causing the wedding guests to swoon and laugh.

"My beautiful wife." He whispers and presses another kiss against your calf. "So, so beautiful." He travels towards your knee and leaves a trail of sweet and teasing kisses, holding your leg steady to keep you from squirming. He finally reaches the fabric around your upper thigh and wraps his teeth around it to pull it down on your leg.

You wiggle under his lips, your breath already shallow and fast, you feel almost dizzy from watching the handsome man working between your legs- his tie loosened and his dark hair messy from how many times you've been running your hands through it tonight. Your wedding dress is bunched up around your hips, exposing your legs and underwear to Iwaizumi, but you know that you won't wear the dress for much longer.

Iwaizumi's lips curl into a triumphant smile as soon as he manages to free the wedding band from your body. "Look, I got it." You smile at his almost childish triumphant expression and suppress a laugh that threatens to burst out of you. That's exactly the man you've fallen for at that night five years ago.

He is quick to dive back between your legs though, and you gasp his name when he directly kisses your pussy through your white underwear. "Don't worry, my dear wife. Your husband is here with you now. Forever and ever."

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi #iwaizumi smut #here you go~#some Iwaizumi fluff/smut <3 #it feels a bit cheesy I'm so sorry #that just came into my mind #hope you'll enjoy <3 #smut #ANYWAYS!#I'm enjoying my last few days of my break #I'll definitely try to write some more things this week #maybe one every night~#Oikawa tomorrow?#Let's see~

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