#meg my lovely 🥰

[wroteclassicaly]

🧡🎃🖤

BYEEEE! I’ll be there with bells on, babydoll! I love you 😘

[roguelov]

… I started playing hades (after hearing all the praise for years) and … I fucking love it

[ybcpatrick]

i'm digging back thru my archives to try and find all of my old digital art from when i was a teenager. and i have Regrets

[purplesimmer455]

Iseul and Megan meet up at the UBrite commons after their respective classes. They’re some of the few people there since it’s early, and Iseul plonks down on a chair next to Megan, smiling at her. “What poem should I read?” She asks quietly as the first performer begins to get her things ready. “You want to present too? Okay, choose any you like, or a random one.” Megan says. “What about the poem you wrote for me when you got drunk that one time in college.” Iseul teases. “If I remember it went, ‘Oh Issy, you send my heart into a tizzy, you make me feel so dizzy, I see you and I get all fizzy, you’re my Issy.’” Megan blushes. “Hey, I wrote that while I was drunk, so of course it was cheesy, but at least it rhymes and is somewhat coherent.” She says, grinning. “Plus, you’re Grace’s Issy now, and I don’t want to overstep that.” Megan adds, and Iseul nods, her face getting somewhat serious. “I know.” She says, as other students start to trickle in, mostly Megan’s but there’s two students from Iseul’s class who wave to her and she waves back.

Arden, one of Megan’s previous students, performs a poem about family, and then a few students go, and Iseul is up. She picks up a book of poems they have in case anyone gets lost or changes their mind and quickly rifles through it. She sees an Emily Dickinson poem called 1383 about friendship and the way it can last throughout so many things*, and reads it, trying to keep her voice clear and even.

“Long Years apart – can make no Breach a second cannot fill – The absence of the Witch does not Invalidate the spell –

The embers of a Thousand Years Uncovered by the Hand That fondled them when they were Fire Will stir and understand –”

Megan smiles and claps for Iseul along with everyone else as she finishes. Megan reads an Emily Dickinson poem too, There is no frigate like a book, which she’s loved since she was a kid** but she has to admit she really likes how sweet Iseul’s chosen poem was. A few more students and professors perform, and then everyone breaks for tea sold by the food station. “Good job, Issy. The poem was nice and you performed it well.” Megan says. “Thanks Megs, I saw it and thought of you, of our friendship.” Iseul says smiling. “Not the witch part.” She adds, making Megan laugh. “I know Is, and thanks.” She says. “Plus I liked your poem too, it suits your bookworm-ness.” Iseul adds, grinning at Megan. “Right? It gives me this weirdly cozy magical feeling.” Megan says, and Iseul smiles. They hug and Iseul looks at Megan. “So, best friend.” Megan says, “Care to join me for a spot of tea?” She adds in a fancy accent. “Yeah, I’d love you-to. I’d love to. Shit, sorry Megs. all those love and friendship poems addled my brain.” Iseul says, smiling sheepishly. “It’s all good, Is.” Megan says, smiling too. “I know in your older age it’s pretty common.” She teases. “Shut up, I’m only four months older than you***.” Iseul teases back, but she grins.

[astral-express-family]

hi fate!!! 🐱 & 🐼 for the ask game!! :3

Ayduushwueudueus Mayo hiii!!!! Tysm for the ask!!

For anyone who's unaware I have been married to Phoney for just over six years!

Anyways onto the questions!

🐱 - What was your favorite moment from your honeymoon?

📞🌒: "Well, our honeymoon was a trip to Italy. Meg went there once when she was younger, and insisted she take me for our honeymoon!"

"It's just such a pretty place, and I didn't even get to see all of it when I went! My favorite part was definitely Venice! The Canal, no cars, beautiful!"

📞🌒: "Venice was nice, but I think Rome was my favorite. I liked the Colosseum and our hotel was nice."

🐼 - Time to be creative! Mix S/I's and F/O's favorite colors and make a moodboard for your relationship based on it!

I used ur art bc it's my favorite art of me n Sunni that I have 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

Ty again for the ask!!

[sosa2imagines]

Ooo since you said I could send in more suggestions I have one more if it’s all right!!🥰

Can I please request a Ransom Drysdale x fem!shy!reader where she’s his girlfriend and he’s bringing her to meet his family for the first time? They are not very welcoming to her as she isn’t wealthy like they are (like she has a normal job like being an elementary school teacher), and she’s a little bit younger than Ransom, so with all that they accuse her of being a “gold digger” because he buys are nice things and she lives in his penthouse (he just loves to spoil his girl) and make her cry? (Ransom would lose it omg)

Hey, I hope you like it, thank you so much for the ask.

Warning- Little angst, fluff, toxic family.

You nervously adjust the hem of your dress for the fifth time, glancing at Ransom as he pulls his vintage Beemer into the long driveway of the Thrombey estate.

The house looms ahead, a testament to the family’s old money and prestige. Your heart hammers in your chest, but Ransom’s warm hand finds yours, squeezing gently.

“Stop worrying,” he says, his tone laced with his trademark confidence. “They’ll hate you no matter what, so just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

You glance at Ransom's unwavering confidence, the smirk on his face adding to his roguish charm. Despite his words being intended to reassure you, they only serve to twist your stomach into knots. “That’s not reassuring,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ransom chuckles, leaning over to brush a kiss against your temple. “Relax, cupcake. You’re with me. They can’t touch you.” He’s trying to make you feel better, but the knot in your stomach tightens as you step out of the car and into the house.

As you step into the Thrombey estate alongside Ransom, the weight of the house's age and wealth hangs heavily in the air. The opulence is overwhelming, making you feel even more out of place. Ransom's hand finds the small of your back, a warm and reassuring presence amid the sea of strange faces.

The inside is as intimidating as the outside, old wood, grand staircases, and a suffocating air of wealth and judgment. The moment you walk in, all eyes are on you.

“Ransom,” his mother, Linda, greets, her sharp gaze flickering over you like she’s already made up her mind. “And this must be…?”

“This is my girlfriend,” Ransom announces, his arm slipping around your waist protectively. His tone is firm, daring anyone to challenge him.

Linda’s smile is polite but cold. “Welcome,” she says, though it sounds more like a warning than an invitation.

As the introductions go on, you feel the weight of their judgement. Joni compliments your dress, but her voice is dripping with honeyed poison. Walt's handshake is a weak and dismissive gesture, and even Meg seems reluctant to fully acknowledge you.

In a room filled with cold glances and thinly veiled disdain, only Harlan’s smile feels genuine. He looks at you, his eyes sparkling with warmth and approval.

“So you’re the one who’s managed to tame my grandson,” he says, a touch of amusement lighting up his face. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, his kindness like a lifeline in the sea of cold stares.

Ransom rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “She’s not taming me, Gramps,” he responds, his hand rubbing comforting circles on your back. “She’s just making me tolerable.”

Dinner is where it all falls apart.

“So, what do you do?” Linda asks, her tone deceptively casual.

“I’m an elementary school teacher,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

Linda's eyes narrow at your answer, her lips curving into a sneer.

“An elementary school teacher,” she repeats, her tone dripping with condescension. “How admirable.”

Ransom stiffens beside you, his hand gripping yours under the table. Your heart sinks a little as you see the flicker of judgement in his family's eyes.

“How noble,” Joni coos, her eyes gleaming with thinly veiled disdain. “It must be such a challenge, you know, financially.”

“I manage…” you say quietly, feeling smaller with every passing second.

Joni's saccharine words feel like a blow to your already frayed nerves. “Oh, I can imagine,” she says with a mock gasp. “It must be so hard, living on such a pitiful salary.”

Ransom's hand tightens around yours, a wordless message of support amid the mounting pressure.

“But Ransom must help, right?” Walt chimes in, his smile more predatory than kind. “Living in his penthouse, the shopping sprees…he really spoils you, doesn’t he?”

Your cheeks burn as you glance at Ransom for support, but his jaw is already tightening.

“She’s not with me for my money, if that’s what you’re implying,” Ransom says, his voice a low warning.

“Of course not,” Linda says with a forced laugh. “But it’s…an adjustment, isn’t it? Coming from such different worlds.”

The tension is palpable. You try to deflect, be polite, but the comments keep coming.

“She’s so much younger than you, Ransom,” Joni adds with a pointed look. “It’s sweet, really. Youthful innocence.”

The implication stings, and you feel the tears prickling at your eyes.

“Enough,” Ransom snaps, his voice loud enough to make everyone fall silent.

“Ransom, we’re just…” Linda starts, but he cuts her off.

“No, you’re just being the insufferable assholes you always are!” he spits, his blue eyes blazing. “She’s ten times the person any of you will ever be, and if you can’t see that, then you can eat shit!”

“Ransom!” Linda gasps, her face pale with shock.

“No, I’m serious,” he continues, his voice dripping with disdain. “Eat shit, Linda! Eat shit, Joni! Hell, eat shit, Walt! You’ve all been waiting for a chance to tear her down, but you know what? She’s better than this circus, and we’re leaving.”

He stands, pulling you gently to your feet. His touch is firm but tender, his anger dissipating the moment he looks at you.

Ransom's arm around your waist remains strong and protective, a silent testament to his loyalty to you. He seems unfazed by the family's coldness, his gaze fixed defiantly, almost daring any of them to cross a line.

Harlan speaks up as you’re leaving. “Ransom,” he calls out, his voice calm but resolute. “Take care of her. She’s a keeper.”

Ransom glances back at his grandfather, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes, before leading you out the door.

Once you’re outside, he stops, turning to you. His hands cradle your face as he studies you with uncharacteristic softness. “Hey,” he murmurs. “Don’t let them get to you. They’re vultures, and they don’t deserve you.”

“I’m sorry…” you whisper, tears spilling over.

“For what? Being perfect?” He wipes your tears away with his thumb. “Cupcake, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Screw them, they can eat shit!”

You manage a small smile, and he pulls you into his arms.

“Come on,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Let’s go home. I’ll order your favorite takeout, and we’ll forget they even exist.”

With Ransom, you know he’ll always have your back, no matter how hard the world, or his family, tries to tear you down.

Taglist- @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan

@mrvl-addict @mercurial-chuckles

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@geeky-politics-46 @dexter99 @calwitch

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@unaxv @pattiemac1 @lovely-geek @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt

[fluffypotatey]

things i noted on my 2nd watch of Twisters (2024)

where each song from the soundtrack plays (idk how many times i listened to it but y’all there was hell or high water playing at the diner when Javi was talking to Riggs and i felt like my third eye opened lmaooooo)

Dexter nerding out over everything (noticed this before but like 🥰🤧 this old man has my heart y’all 🥺 do you see how excited he gets mapping out the terrain and remembering which tornado effect is which???? yeah sure he probably never went to university or finished high school but you can see his love for learning and education and i bet he read every book in every library he visits)

white shirt OT3 o7 (Kate begins the white shirt effect and then it switches to Tyler and switches back to Kate then switches to Javi which switches to Tyler at the end. now, you could argue that Javi begins the white shirt effect bc Storm Par includes white shirts in their uniforms but NO! because they’re polos AND Javi wears the blue and black uniform. so truly the real argument would be Scott wore it but he’s separate from the OT3 and is meant to draw Javi away unlike Kate and Tyler and in this essay—)

Boone not answering Tyler calls (like, last time i did see when Tyler was asking Boone for forgiveness when he chased a tornado with Kate instead of Boone but the fact that Tyler only called Lily because Boone wasn’t answering just adds to that lmao)

Tyler being all shy and sweet with Kate (yeah i saw it before last time but like 🥺 he’s such a sweetie with his little crush and little smile and trying to act all cool asking for her opinion about where the twister is like 🤧🤧 adorable)

Lily teasing and being a great wingman (calling out his red face and handing Kate the food. and ok, yeah, sure, it’s a lot more likely that she didn’t see Kate and Tyler have a mini argument where Kate assumes the worst of them, but i like to think she saw how it ended and decided to clear the air her own way)

Benjamin Shopshire III (100% laughed when i read that name, i’m so sorry Ben lmao)

Mrs Carter’s narrative similarities to Aunt Meg (bbq & steak and eggs; team loving protag’s relative; not taking protag’s bs)

dead bf’s name is Jeb not Jeff (pretty sure that’s short for something but i have never heard of a Jeb before)

Tyler complimenting Javi’s radar (solely for OT3 purposes)

“Storm Par” & “Owens” (very much the when a name begins toned derogatory but ends the story affectionate)

they never specify which branch of the military Javi’s from (…….it’s free real estate)

Never Left Me plays when Javi and Kate are driving into Oklahoma (very much seals the “there was a time i’d do anything for you” quote)

but yeah there’s some. imma be letting it all soak in my brain while i rot ✌️

[moobieni]

(copy pasted my caption from insta)

i love starscream if that wasn’t apparent enough already. I am SO happy they finally actually acknowledged his trauma and abuse and did not make his beating ups a haha funny joke. his ganuine care for hashtag after she actually believed him was so sweet to see and also did not even feel ooc. Like, he rlly just needed someone to listen and believe him and not have megatron be more important. GREATEST TFES EPISODE NOTHING WILL TOP IT. While i LOVE earthspark megs i am also more than ready to throw him under the bus for starscream djdbdj🥰 But seriously though, i think that comment from starscream made him think a little. He was so ready to fall into old habits again that episode and also DID. he did not hesitate to throw that punch at screamer even after op told him not to use excessive force like 🤨🤨🤨u enjoying this arent u🤨🤨🤨

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 12

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: Thank you everyone for your kind words on Part 11! 🥰 It really meant so much to me.

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ just to be safe on this one. Angst, hurt/comfort, minor violence and tension, fluff with a tinge of spice.~

Part 12: “All in the Family”

You didn’t realize until the funeral just how well loved your grandfather had been.

So many of his friends, along with your grandmother’s, came up to you personally to express their condolences even before the church service began. Some were more heartfelt and broken up than that of your extended family members, many of whom hardly checked on him when he was alive, even before his cancer returned.

You had no mascara left by the time the service started. Yet it wasn’t until you had to get up and speak that you noticed something else when you stared out into the crowd.

Almost all of Dean’s friends (and now yours) had come to support you. Meg and Cas, Sam and Eileen, Benny and Andréa, Jo and Ellen…they all sat in the row behind him, even though very few of them had even met your grandfather in person.

“George was born in Lebanon, Kansas in the early ‘40s,” you began. “At the time, its population was about 600. Now, it’s less than 200…and that’s why he left, he told me. I didn’t want to be the last relic left standin’ with the tumbleweeds.”

That bit earned you some laughs. You paused, smiling slightly. With a shaking breath, you managed to continue.

Though it was hard for you to even look at Andréa. It was with a mixture of lingering resentment, tempered only by your guilt at the last words you’d levied at your best friend. A large part of you still felt justified, even today, to hold your grudge. Maybe you were wrong for it, but that was just how you felt.

And right now, you were shaking. You barely managed to get through the speech you wrote down on a notepad. After you were done, you couldn’t force yourself to pry your fingers off the podium. You glanced over at the closed casket behind you, to your right.

The pastor was standing to your left, waiting on you to go back to your seat so he could resume the service. You could sense him watching you, and distantly you heard him call your name. You couldn’t respond. Your voice was stuck in your throat.

Both anxious and panicked, you looked up at the sea of people watching you. Your gaze darted from face to face, until you landed on Dean. He was staring up at you in thinly veiled concern.

You okay? he mouthed.

You shook your head subtly. You had the undeniable conviction that if you let go of the podium, you would fall into a heap. You’d make an embarrassing scene at your grandpa’s funeral—something George definitely would’ve gotten a kick out of, if he was here.

My granddaughter, ladies and gentlemen. She can talk real well, but apparently she can’t walk at the same time.

Before you could choke out a laugh, followed shortly by hyperventilating, Dean got out of his seat and went up to the stage.

His supportive hand came to rest on the small of your back, while the other was offered to you palm facing up, next to where you had a death grip on the podium. You met his eyes, and he gave you a steady look. 

“You got this,” he said in a lowered voice.

You took his hand. He guided you off the stage and back into your seat. His lips pressed to your cheek.

“You did great,” Dean said quietly in your ear. “He’d be proud of you.”

You held onto his hand for the rest of the service.

Your big house was good for one thing: it made for a roomy reception.

Thank God you hadn’t had to cook yourself. Ellen had brought everything you might’ve wanted or needed by way of food and drinks, and true to Dean’s word, she’d given you what you suspected was a heavily discounted price. You’d tried to give her an extra tip earlier, but she’d folded the envelop and stuck it behind the neckline of your dress.

“We already covered payment, and I don’t wanna hear about it again,” Ellen said. “Now help me unwrap these chicken strips.”

You gave a tremulous smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

Later, while Ellen went to grab the utensils and plates, you found yourself side by side with Jo in your kitchen. She gave you a smile that was both kind and reserved.

“I’m sorry about your grandpa,” she said, pausing on uncasing a container of sandwiches. Her blue eyes looked sincere.

“Thank you,” you replied. Your small smile was genuine as well. Until Andréa and Benny came in, with Dean right behind.

“Can we help?” Andréa asked. Her question was pointed, and filled with double meaning as her eyes met yours.

After a moment, you decided to swallow your pride for now. It was only a few more hours, and then your house would be empty.

“Can you get the dining table set up?” you asked.

Andréa nodded, but you stopped her before she could venture out into the dining room.

“Where’re you going?” you asked.

She shot you a frown. “To do what you asked.”

“Tablecloths are in the linen closet,” you reminded her. “You can grab the beige one.”

“Oh, I thought you would’ve taken that out already,” she said. As if you didn’t have a million other things to remember to do today.

“Well, it’s there,” you said, trying to be patient.

Andréa’s lips pursed. “In the linen closet? The one in the hall?”

You sighed as you finished unwrapping the second package of potato salad. Your patience thinned.

“No, the one in the attic,” you snipped dryly. You knew you were kind of being a bitch, but you could’ve grabbed the damn tablecloth yourself in this time.

Andréa agreed wordlessly and left the kitchen with clipped heels.

Meanwhile, Dean surveyed the scene between you and your friend, and sensed that something was off there. Even Jo shot him a subtle brow raise. Dean’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t want to say anything to you just yet. He knew you had a lot on your mind.

Instead, he glanced at Benny, who gave his friend a telling look.

Dean took in a breath. “Okay, uh. What else do you need, babe?”

You looked up at him, softening. “Maybe help Ellen bring in the drinks and stuff? She just went out to her car.”

Dean nodded. “Sure.”

He and Benny left the kitchen, giving Dean a chance to get the scoop.

“Something going on between Thelma and Louise? That was downright frosty back there,” he remarked.  

Benny scoffed. “What, you didn’t know?”

“Know what?” Dean asked.

“They had a big blow out a couple weeks ago.”

“Seriously? I didn’t hear a word about it.”

“Well that’s confoundin’,” Benny said, rubbing at his beard. “‘Cause I certainly did. In excruciating detail.”

Dean’s lips flickered at a smirk, but it soon faded.

After the lasts guests left the house, and the cleanup was done for the night, it got down to you and Dean alone in the house. Your family had never been a large one. Just you and your grandparents. And then, it had been just you and your grandfather for so long…

You now dreaded the moment that it would finally be just you.

At least tonight, you had your boyfriend. The two of you were watching a movie on the couch with another slice of leftover cake split between you. For once, you didn’t have the stomach for it. You let Dean polish off the plate.

He tossed it onto the coffee table and then paused the movie for a moment. He knew you weren’t really watching anyway. He rested a hand on your thigh, earning your attention.

“You given any more thought to a new car?” he asked. Yours had been totaled in the accident last month. Between Dean and Meg and Ellen bringing in food and supplies, you hadn’t needed to venture out of your house much ever since the accident.

Now, however, you heaved a sigh. You leveled him with honesty.

“Even with the insurance money left over, I’m not sure I can afford one after the funeral expenses.”

Dean inclined his head. “Okay, hear me out…Bobby owns a salvage yard.”

Your brows rose. “A junkyard?”

“Salvage yard,” he corrected. “He occasionally gets some good finds. I’ll comb through and look for something I can fix up for you.”

“Thanks, but…” You were grateful for him trying to help, but you still weren’t sure about adopting a “salvage yard” rescue car.

“You think I’m gonna put you in something that isn’t safe?” Dean asked, squeezing your thigh. The weight in his eyes sobered you.

“Okay, thanks. Let me know what you find,” you agreed. He nodded, but before he put the movie back on, he decided to broach something else.

“So, Benny filled me in on your little fight club moment with Andréa,” he said.

You sighed and leaned back on the couch, crossing your arms. “It wasn’t fight club.”

But an awkward silence fell between you and Dean as you didn’t offer anything more. He sighed and rubbed your knee with his thumb.

“You guys had a falling out?” he asked.

Your brows knitted together. “You want to hear about my girl drama?”

Ordinarily? Not really, Dean could admit. He liked “tea” as much as the next person, but he wasn’t angling for drama so much as for your trust. He was still new to this whole “boyfriend” thing. But still, this felt like something you could’ve come to him with.

“Look, if you’re upset…for any reason, you can tell me,” he said. “Thinking that’s my job as the boyfriend.”

…Well, shit, you thought, as guilt sunk heavy in your chest. How could you argue with that? 

You sighed and threw your hands up, before they landed on his. You took his hand with both of yours.

“Well,” you said, “I broke up with my best friend.”

Dean blinked at that. That would definitely make it awkward to double date.

“Aw, you didn’t break up, did you?”

When you merely gave him a look, he nodded. “All right. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

You sighed, but you explained it to him. You told him about your ongoing frustrations with your friend’s self-centeredness, and her lack of self-awareness at times. And while you took responsibility for the way you’d gone off on her that day on your porch, a large part of you still felt justified. Even if that made you the “bitch.”

“Well, look. If this is something that you can’t get past, then I get it. Sometimes you needa cut people out,” Dean said eventually. “But I’m thinking, right now, you need support. Maybe she didn’t give it when you needed her, but maybe she’s hurtin’ about this too… At least, that’s what Benny says.”

At first, you frowned. Your throat was tight with emotion, probably from today, but maybe because he was saying things you had already been thinking, deep down. You just didn’t want to admit it.

“You just want us to smooth things over so it won’t make it awkward for you with your friend,” you shot back.

Dean frowned, raising placating hands. “That’s not what I said.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Come on. You know that’s not it.”

You wiped at your eyes, as they were starting to sting with unshed tears. You knew you weren’t being fair. He was just trying to help.

“Sorry,” you said, in a calmer voice. “…I’ll think about it, okay? Because you’re right. It’s not just her…I also just can’t shake this feeling. Like my world is getting smaller, and someday I’m going to be the only one left.”

And there it was. Yet another fear you didn’t want to admit. It was your worst fear: being alone.

You were hesitant to let your gaze leave your lap, to meet Dean’s. When you did, you were met by his softened look. He went for your hand again.

“Listen. You still have people,” he said. “Doesn’t matter if they’re related to you by blood or not. Real family’s gonna fight and bitch. But they’re also gonna be there, like your friend was today.”

You sighed heavily. Once again, you knew he was right. Despite the awfulness of your fight, Andréa had come to your grandfather’s funeral. She helped you set up for the reception, and she stayed until the last hour helping with the cleanup, along with Benny, Sam, Eileen, and the rest of Dean’s friends. They were now your friends too.

You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.” 

Dean smiled.

“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”

You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.

“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily. “Dean, I love you. I love you so damn much.”

Dean’s fingers tangled in your hair. A sigh expelled through his nose as he pressed a lingering kiss into your neck.

Warm. It felt warm in his chest. Almost overwhelming.

He’d been letting instinct guide him since the day he met you. So even though he hesitated to answer at first, he knew.

“I love you too,” he admitted. You held onto him that much tighter.

In hindsight, he’d already known. The day of the car accident, when you’d called him in tears and asked for his help, he realized just how much he’d do for you. The lengths he would go to make sure you were okay.

That you were safe, and his.

Nick Savage was an opportunist at heart.

Sure, he’d flunked out of college. Big fucking whoop.

Now he stood at the literal head of a multimillion-dollar company. He ruled in the very same office where he once sat on the floor as a ten-year-old kid, playing with his Batman action figure. Out of the corner of his eye, he’d watched his father hook new “clients” between glasses of scotch.

Now, Nick was the one making deals.

He stared out of the immense window of his office as he practiced his putting swing. These golf clubs had been a gift (to himself), and he thought he could’ve pursued it harder when he was younger, if he hadn’t lost focus in high school.

Maybe if his dad had attended even one of his games, he would’ve pursued sports past the varsity level. He had the talent. He could’ve gotten scouted…

Nick blew out a breath.   

“Well, this is what I like to see,” a droll voice said from the doorway. “A man hard at work.”

Nick’s head raised slowly. His brows twitched with surprise, but he soon covered it up with a hint of a dry smile.

“Welcome back, Dad,” Nick drawled. “Where were you? Venice? Greece?”

Daniel Savage was only slightly taller than his son. His build was broader, his blonde hair graying at the temples, but his blue eyes were sharp.

He dressed the part of a wealthy mogul: brown slacks, smart shoes, dark green turtleneck, with sleeves bunched up on his forearms, and a black Rolex on his wrist. Its watch face flashed in the afternoon light as he smoked a cigarette indoors. 

He stepped inside the office, letting Nick’s assistant close the door.

“The hottest fucking country known to man,” said Daniel. He cocked his head as he took in all the changes to his office. He noted the untidy bar area with a critical eye.

“It was fun,” he added. “Got a nice tan. But it was starting to chafe…you know why?”

Nick rolled his eyes and straightened from his putting. He leaned on his club.

“I have everything under control,” he said.

“You see, if that were true,” Daniel said. His slow but measured gait drew him closer to his son. He flicked a bit of ash from his cigarette onto Nick’s shoe. “I wouldn’t be here, now would I?”

“You didn’t have to come,” Nick said, subtly shaking off his shoe. He tried to maintain his nonchalance, but even now, his father’s gaze pinned his feet to the floor. “Everything’s fine. I’m handling it.”

Daniel paused for a moment. The cigarette was poised between two fingers while his arm crossed beneath his elbow. He stared at his son like he was trying to figure out where the hell he went wrong.

“You know how I know you’re lying?” Daniel asked.

He then smacked his son so hard up the head, it made Nick trip over his golf club. It skittered to the floor, and he had to catch himself on the nearby couch. His arm chafed against the brown leather.

“Fuck,” he yelped.

Daniel grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hauled him around, until he was leaning against the couch arm.

“Because you’re single-handedly driving my empire into the ground with stupid. Fucking. Mistakes,” Daniel said. His tone was calm and even, but deep in his eyes was hellfire. “Alastair can only do so much to clean up after you.”

Nick swallowed. “I thought…using your brand would send a message. Remind people that our name still has power.”

By that, of course, he meant the various kills he’d ordered in the past six months. Each marked with a burn on their body—a symbol that even now was etched on his father’s ring: two snakes devouring one another.

“My name,” Daniel corrected. “The problem is, you use my mark, people think you’re me. And…well, you’re not, are you?”

Nick’s gaze cut away.

“And I was on sabbatical for a reason,” Daniel reminded. “I was kinda supposed to be dead.”

He took a long drag of his cigarette. When he blew out the smoke, the smell reminded Nick of nights he spent in the back rooms of old bars and clubs as a kid, watching his father play cards with old “friends of the family.”

But sometimes, family friends shot one another over money owed and disrespected protocols. 

“Never kill your accountant, you idiot,” Daniel said. He punctuated this by tapping Nick hard on the chest, with the same two fingers that held his smoke. “The devil’s in the details. In this case, the numbers.”

Daniel shook his head and blew more smoke. “The cops are onto you…one in particular, in fact, who’s a few steps shy of pinning your ass against the wall.” 

And one step away from mine, his tone implied. Hence why he’d returned from sabbatical, Nick realized, with a sinking feeling.

Okay, maybe he’d fucked up putting the hit on Jerry Stillwell, but the grubby little man had been demanding a bigger cut for his “continuing silence.”

Daniel sighed and raised a hand to rub between his eyes. He turned towards the desk and put out his cigarette on an ashtray. 

“Technology’s gotten too good, Nicholas. It’s not like it was 30 years ago. Nowadays, when you start a damn fire, the cops tend to look at that shit a bit harder.”

Nick straightened up onto his feet. His hands clenched into fists with the same fire that always drove him: the desire to be useful. To be seen by his father. To matter. 

“The cop, I know who he is. It’s the same one that tried to burn you last time,” Nick said. “John Winchester.”

Daniel scoffed, giving a short nod. “I know. The man’s fucking obsessed.”

Nick smiled. “I’ve already been working on a plan with Alastair—”

“You’ll do nothing,” Daniel snapped. He glanced at his son over his shoulder. “From now on, I’m back in the saddle. Nothing happens without my word. That includes this company.”

Nick frowned at that. A trill of anger made his nails bite into his palms.

“Savage & Co. is mine,” he argued. “You gave it to me.”

“That’s right. I’m correcting that bit of oversight.”

“We’ve been margining the best profits we’ve ever had,” Nick said. He mentally scoured your latest sales report in his brain. “Our projections—”

“Don’t mean shit,” Daniel said. He turned on his heel, with a hand in his pocket. “You do realize that this building? It’s just a pretty face. The real magic happens behind the curtain.”

He took note of the gold pen showcased on Nick’s desk. He picked it up…and threw it as hard as he could towards the bar. Nick flinched as glass bottles of fine liquor shattered.

“As we speak, there are deals closing all over the world,” Daniel continued. “Shipments being made back and forth through customs, all perfectly legal, as long as it has this company’s stamp…but that’s all about to unravel. And evidently, the only one who can keep the entire goddamn operation from crumbling into nothing, is ME!”

Nick tried not to flinch again at his father’s raised voice. That brought back memories too.

His gaze lowered. Meanwhile, Daniel took pains to inhale deeply, taking more even breaths. His hand brushed back his hair, as if smoothing down proverbial ruffled feathers.

“It’s all right, son,” he said with a slippery smile. “Azazel’s back in town.”

The next morning marked your official first day back in the office. After a little over a month of working from home, it felt odd to actually get dressed in the “workwear” side of your closet, complete with slacks, blouse, flat shoes, and a blazer.

No more making yourself a nice breakfast at home. No more Dean dropping in on his off days to hang out during the day, making you feel like you weren’t completely alone in your old, too-big house.

Back to the office, where you had to be completely and 100% on your game. Or else you wouldn’t be taken seriously by the would-be Jon Hamms of your office.

However, for every floor that Betsy the elevator climbed, the more your stomach churned. For once, it wasn’t just because you didn’t want to deal with Nick. You genuinely just didn’t want to be here.

“Buck up sweetheart,” as your grandfather would often say, when he watched you pause at the front door, taking a breath before you left for the day.

“Give it your very best, and no matter what crap happens afterwards, you can’t be disappointed in yourself.”

You remembered his encouragements. His smile. The way he subtly reminded you not to be so hard on yourself. The way he always knew how to make you laugh when you were at your most exhausted, or discouraged. The way he’d been your best friend and your father all at once.

You let out a shaky sigh, and you stopped the elevator three floors before the 22nd.

Before you fully realized what you were doing, you found yourself standing in the doorway of Andréa’s cubicle. She looked up at you a bit startled at first. Her brows drew together, but then, she seemed to soften.

You must’ve looked like hell.

“Hey…is it your first day back to the office?” she asked.

You nodded, because you weren’t sure what would come out if you spoke. Your hands were shaking, you also realized.

Andréa’s hazel eyes gentled. She stood and went over to you, resting a hand on your arm. After a beat, she just took your hand. You bit your lip, and your eyes watered, meeting hers.

“You’re not ready to be here, are you?” she asked.

After a beat, you made a negative sound and shook your head.

“Okay. Let’s get you back to your office so you can put in your PTO. I know you’ve got days racked up, since you’re a workaholic.”

You gave a tremulous smile. You let her lead you out of her cubicle and back towards the elevators.

“Nick is going to be an asshole about it,” you said weakly.

Andréa threw her head back and scoffed. “Nick can suck my dick twice on a Tuesday.”

She had you laughing through your tears. Then laughing until your stomach hurt.

She chortled, though she shushed you when you two walked out into the main hallway. A couple of guys from Legal shot you strange looks, but you ignored them. The lawyers at your company were starch-pressed assholes. 

“Wanna grab brunch?” Andréa asked, when the elevator opened up for you two. 

I’m sorry, her gaze said. You gave her a softer smile, accompanied by a nod.

Me too. You squeezed her hand. You two could talk the rest out later, but for now, you just wanted peace.

“Yeah, but for the love of God, not Geraldo’s,” you replied. “Last time, I think I got food poisoning just from the salad bar.”

Andréa laughed and pressed the floor for your office.

“Oh, hun. That’s what you get for eating rabbit food.” 

Bit by bit, you started to pick up the pieces of yourself.

You ended up at Dean’s apartment more often than not, as being at home made your skin crawl with loneliness most nights.

He and Sam always welcomed you. In fact, Dean got a kick out of trading off cooking dinner with you. And you had to admit, he made a damn good burger.

So you decided to do something you hadn’t done in months. You grabbed every pan the brothers had, flour, eggs, sugar, salt, and the two leftover apples that looked like they were just about to turn. You started peeling them.

Meanwhile, Dean watched you spark to life as you baked in his kitchen. He sat from his corner at the dining table, still able to see you with his iPad in hand. A slow smile grew across his face.

“Apple pie?” he asked.

You looked up at him. “Apple cake. I don’t think I can compete with your mom’s recipe.”

“Damn, I really wish we had it,” he said. “I’d trust you do to it right.”

You tossed him a smile back. “Well, that’s high praise. Maybe one day I’ll give it a try…I don’t think I’ve made pie in a while.”

Dean watched you mix ingredients, whipping up a storm with the wooden spoon in the bowl. You dearly missed your Kitchen Aid mixer.

“You guys really need a better arsenal up in here,” you muttered. “Feel like I’m a damn Quaker churning butter over here.”

Your boyfriend burst out laughing. You looked up at him, your lips tugging back into a smile. You hadn’t even meant to make him laugh, but at least someone thought you were funny.

Dean tilted his head thoughtfully while he scrolled through football highlights on the small screen.

“Well, if you’re going to be over here more often, guess I’m gonna have to step up my game,” he said, “hit up a Homegoods.”

Your smile started to fall, as something occurred to you. “Oh, you don’t have to do all that.”

Dean noticed the shift in you, with a frown of his own.

“What?” he asked. You glanced over at him.

“Nothing, just…” You sighed. Hands on your hips, you paused in your churning to turn towards him. “It’s okay that I’ve been hanging out here more often, right? I mean…you’ll tell me if you need space. Or if Sam—”

Dean held up a hand. “Hold up. I’m gonna stop you right there.”

He set down his iPad on the table and got up from his seat. He joined you in the kitchen, letting his hand skim the counter as he drew into your personal space. You looked up at him and unconsciously held your breath.

Dean stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Have I said or done something to make you think I don’t want you here? Has Sam?”

You frowned, but you shook your head. “No, baby. I just want to make sure I’m not…I don’t know, overstaying my welcome.”

His eyes met yours frankly. “You’re not.”

His hand fell from your face, just to bring you in close by your waist. He dropped a kiss onto your forehead.

“I’d just be worrying about you over there anyway. Alone in that big house,” he admitted.

You blew out a breath and leaned into him, resting your hands against his chest.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Grandpa told me to sell it, but…I don’t know if I can do that.”

Dean didn’t want to tell you what to do here. Personally, he thought you’d be better off selling it, both for practical reasons and for your own wellbeing. But he could also understand the sentimental side of it too.

“Well, you’ve got time to figure it out,” he said.

You nodded. A smile returned to your face, and you looked up at him.

“But first, cake,” you said.

Dean smiled down at you. He could certainly live with that.

He later moaned while sampling said confection. The apple and spices were the perfect ratio of sweetness to softness. The cake was buttery and delicious. And you really were talented, he thought.

“I’m telling you, babe, you really need to get back into this,” he said around another bite. “I mean professionally. Who needs corporate assholes when you’ve got cinnamon apples?”

Sitting across from him at the dining table, you giggled at the sight of this massive man child with his mouth full. Though he might’ve had a point…maybe it was time to revisit your “pipe dream.” Or at least the very thing you went to school for.

If only working at a bakery slinging pastry dough paid the same as your sales job.

“This was my grandma’s recipe,” you told him. “She’s the one who taught me how to cook, how to bake.”

Dean made a “top notch” symbol with his hand. “She sure knew what she was doin’.”

Your good humor soon faded, though you tried to hide it. You were tired of bringing down the people around you. You wanted to just be yourself again…but it seemed your heavy heart wouldn’t let you.

You realized you hadn’t succeeded when Dean’s hand fell over yours. You looked up and met his eyes. They asked a question without speaking as his thumb rubbed over the back of your hand.

“My family’s gone, Dean,” you said wearily, fighting the tears stinging in your eyes.

You still technically had extended family members, but most of them had always looked down at your grandparents, after seeing how they’d “failed” with your mother, then raised the daughter she’d had from a one-night stand she’d met in a bar. Those same people had pitied you when you were young, and barely looked you in the eyes at both of your grandparents’ funerals.

So in your mind, the only real family you had was gone.

But Dean squeezed your hand.

“No,” he said. “They’re right here. In these hands.”

Once again his thumb swept across the back of your knuckles. “You’ve still got what they gave you. Your mind, your spirit, and a lot of other things that make you, you…”

His lips pulled at a smile.

“And you’ve still got me,” he added.

Slowly, you smiled back. You leaned over and held his face in your hands, stroking his stubble covered cheeks.  

“That I do,” you said, and your voice only shook a little. “Thank God for that.”

When you kissed him, it felt as natural as taking a breath. You two had shared tender moments in the past few weeks, born of pain and comfort. But this time had a spark of hunger as your hand drifted down his neck.

Dean kissed you back, pleasantly surprised by the demand of your tongue. He hummed in question, though he gripped your arms to keep you close.

You answered him by licking further into his mouth, kissing him deeper. You broke for a moment, just to meet his eyes. The heat in his was familiar, prickling delightful sensations across your skin. Especially when he dragged you into his lap and continued to devour you against the kitchen table.

Your hands slipped under his black Henley and between the muscles in his back. Some of them twitched under your touch, and you let your nails drag slowly back down his spine.

Fuck, he shuddered. It felt nice (and arousing), but it reminded him of other times your nails had raked across his back.

He gripped your thighs tight, and he contemplated laying you out right here on the dining table, for all he cared. Matter of fact, he’d eat apple cake off your body, if you were down for it.

Unfortunately, that was when Sam finally unlocked the door and got home from work. He caught you and Dean breathless and pupils wide, your hair frizzy and your shirt halfway up over your bra. You hastily tugged it down, while he did the same for himself.

Meanwhile, Sam just rolled his eyes.

“You do have a room, you know,” he said wryly.

Dean cleared his throat and shot you a meaningful look. You nodded, slipping off his lap. But you grabbed his hand and pulled him up with you.

Dean shot his brother a wink over his shoulder. “When the room’s a rockin’, don’t come a knockin’.”

Sam scoffed. “As if I’d give myself that kind of family trauma.”

“Leftovers are in the fridge, Sam!” you called, even though you were halfway down the hall with Dean on your heels.

Sam huffed as he heard your squeal, followed by a door slamming shut. And yet, he smiled. His brother might’ve become part of the “happily committed,” but some things just didn’t change.

Afterwards, you really felt nothing but peace.

Your head rested on your arms, across Dean’s lap. You were comfortable and naked and tangled in his sheets, while he soothed a hand through your wild hair. Ace Ventura played on the TV, and you enjoyed listening to him laugh.

You were too tired, physically and emotionally, to be as vocal. Your body shook in silent laughter, goaded on by his. And that was enough for Dean.

It was enough for you too.

AN: 🥹 I hope you enjoyed that bit of hurt/comfort at the end there, but really throughout this. Dean's really proved himself, hasn't he? But let's talk about "Azazel"...

Did you like the reveal? It changes how you look at Nick, huh?

Well, he's about to get worse.

(Don't worry too much though. There will be protective!Dean.)

Next Time:

He grabbed your arm. “Hey, we didn’t get a chance to catch up tonight.”

You shoved his hand off of you.

“Don’t you ever in your life touch me again,” you warned him. Your eyes were as hard as your voice. “I don’t think there’s anyone on the planet—no. In the whole damn universe who sickens me more than you, Nick Savage.”

Nick straightened a little, frowning at you. Whatever he saw in your gaze, he didn’t seem to like the challenge.

Keep Reading: PART 13

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

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[sociomoony]

Yo bbg gorl you should totally write some head cannons abt ur top 3 favorite jjk characters.

Also would you be opposed to writing silly little things abt it Ocs if you have any currently. (Feed me wife pls I am starving of ur presence and writing 😫

-Love, your FAVORITE wife 🥰😘

Top 3 favorites head cannons? I can sure try 😭🙏 (and absolutely, I'll have something out about Ocs if that's what you wish!!!) I love you my beautiful wife 🫶

Headcannons- General + Romantics (I am a fanfic wrighter, watchu want from me 😞)

Includes - Megumi, Noritoshi, Takuma

Headcannons!!!

(1) Megumi Fushiguro

•Now we love our little urchin haired boy!! And to be completely honest, his classmates have to had mentioned that at least once to him. I mean it's just so- fitting 😭 spikey on the outside, vulnerable on the inside! For a while, Megumi hated it, but started to think it might actually make him sound cool considering how painful urchins could be (that didn't last long at all)

•Has 100% called Gojo 'Dad' in school before. He has never been able to live it down from Gojo, but after Gojo's end, Megumi started referring to him as dad a little more freely to Yuji and Nobara when mentioning him.

•The bag carrier anytime the friend group goes out. This is more fact than head cannons but I find it funny. Yuji will start out as the carrier, but of course something will catch his eye. He'll give Megumi the bags to hold, and then never grab them again, and Meg's just goes along with it because why not. Not that big of a deal

•Has the little note Gojo wrote him kept tucked away in his wallet at all times. Over time it got older and more frail, so he framed it. It sits on a table at his bedside now.

•Megumi hates to ever admit to anyone, but he deeply misses Gojo, and it's clear as day, he just hates admitting it. He has openly cried ONCE to Yuji about him, and couldn't stop for hours.

---Romantics--~

•Megumi used to hate physical affection, but now when he gets it he sinks into it. It doesn't even have to be romantic actually, if Yuji hugs him, he'll protest, and then just melt.

•Is very cautious of who he's with. You can't blame him, most people that were supposed to be important to him have left or disappeared and randomly came back. He was upset at Yuji for it, and he doesn't make exceptions. It will take months, maybe even years of knowing him before he let's you in, and he won't be quick about it.

•The type of guy to take you out every morning for something to eat. He doesn't have much value for money besides his essentials, for he fears he won't be around long, especially after what happened. Why would he spend money on things he likes when they could go to waste one day?... Don't tell him he's being hypocritcal when he's insisting on you both going somewhere you've been gushing about, but he won't just buy the game he's been talking about for weeks.

•Not big on sweets, but he eats them around you. He's more wary about being different or not exactly ideal, so on your first few go- rounds, he tries eating the sweetest things... Sugar cookie cake pops, red velvet cookies, chocolate moose cake... But when you hear from a passing conversation from him and Yuji of how he doesn't like sweets because they hurt his teeth, you're quick to ask him about it. He tries to ignore it and change the topic, but your firm on it since it truly isn't a big deal. The small detail turns into him breaking down about wanting to be good for you, especially since his flaws chalk him down to being difficult to deal with. Your confused on why such a small thing would make him this upset, but to him it was more than that... He just wanted to be normal for you, not a Jujutsu sorcerer, not a fatherless guy with raging daddy issues, he just wanted to be good for you..

•Comfort goes both ways. If you're in the slightest bit of distress, he's not so quick to tell you to suck it up like he might his friends. Why would he? You're someone who stays with him because you love him, not tolerate, and believe me when I say he'd go lengths to make you feel better. But most of the time you both settle for laying down in one of your rooms and just talking or sleeping for a few hours. When it comes to him, it's almost the exact same thing. It's a routine you both do, with blankets and warm, comforting words or silly stories to ease or distract, and honestly that's enough for both of you.

(2) Noritoshi Kamo

•You guys I'm so normal about this man I swear

•Got made fun of when he first arrived at the sister school. He was awkward and quiet, and anytime he spoke he had that attitude to him that made you double take.

•has thought about cutting his hair multiple times just to try different styles. He tried when he was younger to make a Mohawk, and got majorly chewed out for it.

•Refuses to partake in the few times parents ever came up in conversation. He had grown more accustomed to the others, and became more open to them, but when it came to talking about family he shut down. Todo has tried to speak with him about it, but it just pissed Nori off and ended in him calling Todo nothing but a mindless hunk of meat. The two don't talk much anymore.

•He will be the first to call Miwa useless. He finds her skills pathetic in the real world and doesn't care for her 'theatrics'...

•When Mechamaru died, Noritoshi sat with the same Miwa he hated, called useless, and held her as she cried for hours. He stopped calling her useless, especially after her sacrifice during Shibuya. She became his closest friend in a small amount of time, and she was the first to openly know about his mother.

•A little more random, but I feel like Noritoshi would be the type to listen to She Wants Revenge and Sleep Token

---Romantics--~

•Has used his blood manipulation to form small items like a heart and such for his partner on multiple occasions, even if it hurts him a little in the long run.

•insists on teaching you how to use a bow like him. He gets a little pissy when you continuously get it wrong, but he's quick to realize it himself and correct it to a silly sassy attitude. He apologizes after, even if you didn't see anything of it.

•He dates to marry, especially with rules from his clan. If you come into his life, you'll be damn sure to not leave without a hell of a fight.

•with a female partner, he tries his best to help you with your period. He's been told blood manipulation can help, but he's a little clumsy with it since he wasn't exactly taught about woman's reproductive things. He treats you like royalty when your time comes, though. For his beloved to be hurting to the point she can't get out of bed? Treason would be his deciding fate if he could for what hurts you, but he settles for treating you rather than hating your reproductive organs. He gives you the essentials, chocolate, snacks, medicine, etc, but he doesn't stay with you much unless you need him there. He takes it as more time to train without being worryful if he gets too aggressive with you watching.

•He doesn't like you seeing him angry. He's naturally a calm man, but the few times he's gone overboard, he fears for what you think of him, fears that you might be scared of him..

•His music taste is interesting.. But one of his main love languages would definitely be you listening to his music choices if that was an option. It's actually acts of service, but he gets just as giddy whenever you listen to things with him. Whether it be while he's training you both listen with an earbud, or laying in bed and letting it play on the speakers while you both make out or do something to pass the time.

(3) Ino Takuma

•Nanami's death hit him hard. He didn't know right away, and had to be told by someone. I think that's what hurt worse, is that he wasn't there.. He couldn't help him, couldn't try to save him. He could have showed Nanmi his teaching worked, that he was a good teacher, but he wasn't there. He beats himself up for it a lot, but you best bet he got first grabs on Nanami's things. He wears his watch, used his weapon, he held onto those things like they were too fragile to be touched by another.

•when the situation happened with Toji, he quite literally cried like a baby when he got back, because first, ow, and second, he got beat so quickly, he feared Nanami would think even less of him.

•To be fair, I feel like he saw Nanami as the closest thing to a father figure he'd ever get. He has RAGING daddy issues, and it shows.

•Hasnt washed that mask/beanie in YEARS. Anytime someone steals it or tries to wear it, because he can even argue to give it back, they are shoving it against his chest, coughing like they just opened a century old book.

•Typical skater punk like dude. He has tried to act the part, but in reality if you made a fart joke he's loose his mind in laughter.

•Speaking of that, he has the WORST sense of humor. He unironically quotes Skibidi toilet things or some weird song he heard on tiktok that you can only deter to be the most brain rotting things ever. He's a fucking lunatic for things like that, and will laugh his ass off if he sees or hears it.

•Listens to music on a constant, no matter the condition (unless it's fighting, he doesn't want to loose his precious earbuds) but with training, walking on the streets, making food, anything, he's listening to music. His taste is actually pretty decent

---Romantics--~

(A little bit of NSFW since this man is of age)

•Hes CLINGY. If you go anywhere, he's very quick to follow. You walk into a room? Everyone knows Takuma will be a few steps behind. You're idly talking to someone? His arms are around your midsection with his chin on your shoulder. Walking the streets? He's beside you holding your hand or with an arm around your shoulder.

•Lends you any sweatshirt you want. He has too many, but you can't just get away with it that easily. He will request something back. You jokingly gave him a crop top back once, and he wore it around with style. You know that trend of girls giving their boyfriends makeup only to find out they look better than them? That was basically what Takuma was serving.

•I'm pretty sure we've all agreed Takuma would worship the grounds you walk on. He's deadly respectful, not just to you, but most anyone. Elderly, young, you name it. He will put you on a podium above the rest, he will carry you when your feet hurt, he'll open any door for you, he'll fix your heels for you, all of that. He'd let you step on him if it makes you feel good, as long as your happy, he's happy. However, it's gotten to the point you've had to tell him willingly letting someone do the things he says you can do isn't okay. When you get upset, he offers to be who you take it out on, and you've had to tell him over and over again that you would never lay a hand on him, and that letting people so that isn't okay. He doesn't understand it in all honesty, but he does understand your point when you ask what would happen if the roles were reversed.

•His clinginess is quick to turn into horniness. Let's say he's out talking with Nanami while you sit next to him. His hands on your thigh, and your getting tired of him and Nanami speaking, so you pull his hand to touch lower. He's quick to start stuttering and getting all flushed in the face. He grips exactly where your hand puts him, tightly holding as you jump and hold his arm. Tease for tease, and you best believe when you get home, he'll have a he'll of a fun time with you.

•His relationship with Nanami has gotten in the way of your relationship before. You've had to tell him multiple times that he can't just blow everything off immediately when Nanami asks something of him. He's had to cancel multiple important date nights or other events simply because Nanami wanted to talk or have dinner with him. It's taken a couple fights for the both of you to come to an agreement on how much is too much, but the last thing he wants is for you to think he doesn't want to be with you, or that he cares for one over the other.

-------------------------------ඞ-----------------------------------------

okay so this is kinda my first headcanon, super duper scary but I hope I delivered what you liked ♡♡

- mwah, your writer ♥︎

[museqmeg]

My horsey headcanons for Trigun characters:

Vash - endurance rider. He has a background in dressage, but he loves endurance because the focus is on maintaining his riding partner's health and bond through the long ride. They run, they run, and they keep on running!

Knives - Dressage, no question. He's stickler for doing things as perfect as possible. He loves the discipline because he can focus on the "correct" biomechanics of riding. He's a discipline snob fr. His favorite class? Dressage musical freestyle. He produces his own.

Meryl - While she started out in hunters and went to a girls' equestrian boarding school, the discipline was lacking the excitement she needed so she switched to jumpers. She'd have a fiery, tiny mare capable of competing at the grand prix level. The mare bites. 👹

Fun fact about Meg: I was an FEI groom for this mare. Her name is Didi and she bit me. I still love her. 🥰

Milly - Western working horsemanship. She grew up on a farm with her many siblings. She can cut, rope, and rein. Trail riding is her favorite way to pass time with her mount. Second only to Vash, she is phenomenal at bareback/bridleless riding.

Wolfwood - He doesn't ride. Never had in interest in it. However, he still loves the horse and instead put his efforts into blacksmithing. He's the farrier everyone at the barn has a crush on, even the horses. ❤️

[wrathofrats]

Could it be more than a pair? What if is was all the quints? With 4. "Swallow it. All of it."

Or pick you fave quint pair 🥰

Kinktober day 2: JOI / facesitting-fucking

Prompts by @kroas-adtam

What I’ve got will make you feel more alive (I’ll be your drug)

Read now or on ao3

Omega/aether/phantom/delta

Explicit. 1k. Warnings for: quintosis, light degradation stupidification, delta and phantom are menaces, I <3 QUINT BUKKAKE

Delta was just a foot away, phantom wrapped around him from behind to stroke his cock with a wicked smile plastered on his face. He loved the power, being able to stand over the person who had been bossing you around since you came topside. If omega still had any thoughts in his brain besides what was happening directly in front of him he would’ve called him a brat. But with the magic sunken deep into his mind all he could do is think about how he needed to please him.

Omegas nerves felt like they were completely exposed. As if they were standing up on end like hair with static electricity. A tingling, almost fuzzy feeling surrounded him.

Someone stood behind him with a hand carded through his hair, sharp claws running along his scalp in almost a soothing manner. Threading their fingers through the white strands, surely as a leash to keep him on even if the touch was sweet for now.

“You wanna try him out next delta?” The voice from behind him cooed, almost sultry. It sounded like aether, voice deeper than phantoms and more commanding than delta ever could be. His eyes peeled open to see who was still in front of him.

Delta was just a foot away, phantom wrapped around him from behind to stroke his cock with a wicked smile plastered on his face. He loved the power, being able to stand over the person who had been bossing you around since you came topside. If omega still had any thoughts in his brain besides what was happening directly in front of him he would’ve called him a brat. But with the magic sunken deep into his mind all he could do is think about how he needed to please him.

“Feed it to him phant, don’t think it can even open its mouth” deltas head fell back against phantom's shoulder as phantom tapped the tip of deltas cock onto omegas lips. They parted slightly, enough to push through and rest heavy on his tongue.

“Suck on it omega, I know you remember how” aether whispered into omegas ear. He pushed his head forward slightly, watching as the sentence restrung his brain and he hollowed his cheeks. Delta gave a low groan while phantom squeezed him at the base just to tease him as well.

Aether used his grip on omegas hair to continue fucking his mouth, up and down on delta while omega simply looked up at him and took it without protest, didn’t even gag when phantom “accidentally” shoved delta forwards.

“Fuck- close aeth, pull it off” delta panted, trying to pull out of omegas mouth. Aether pulled him off with a pop as omega gave an almost sad look behind him.

“They’re not allowed to cum yet, I promise you we will give you everything you need, in time”

Aether pushed his head forwards again as delta took a second to breath and try and calm down while phantom undid the button on his own pants. He was longer than delta was, but not as thick, hard and leaking from where he had been grinding against deltas ass.

“My turn megs, open up” omega opened up his mouth again instinctively. His jaw was surely sore, lips red and a bit swollen from being abused, but he continued to obey and do what he was told. Phantom was much less sweet than delta was, not even letting aether do the work before he had slammed into the back of his throat earning a small jump and a gag.

“Gentle, stardust. Be careful with our toy, we wouldn’t want you to break it would we?”

“This thing was made to be broken, it’s lucky you’re here to restrain us”

Aether pulled omega back slightly to try and avoid phantom choking him out anymore than he already was, a hand wrapped around his chest to take some of the pressure off his hair.

“You’re lucky you’re here at all, I’d be grateful this isn’t you instead”

Omega looked up at phantom with wet eyes as he stepped back away from his mouth. Aether gave him the sign to get away, stand with delta, lost the privilege of feeling him around his cock.

“Poor thing, they don’t know how to treat you do they? I’ll be sweet with you don’t worry” aether came around to his front, already unbuckling his belt to pull himself out, “you look so hard baby, get a hand around yourself, wanna feel you moan around my cock”

Omega reached down to touch himself, already completely bare as he kneeled before the other three quints. A mix of saliva and pre had run down his chin and matted into the hair on his chest, something one of the ghouls had mixed into their magic had his mouth leaking, dripping onto the carpet below. His strokes were jerky, sloppy. No rhythm besides trying to get off and stopping when aether had thrusted particularly hard into his mouth.

“Are you going to cum in his mouth?” Delta asked, letting phantom continue to feel him up from behind. Aether had gotten more desperate, panting and pushing omega further and further.

“You two certainly didn’t earn it, so I’m going to”

“Then what do we get?” Phantom whined. He had gotten deltas shirt off at some point, a hand stuck down his pants while the other traded between toying with his nipples and squeezing around his throat. Delta always loved the floaty feeling of getting his airway cut off, and phantom was always happy to provide.

“You can come on his face if you shut up about it” aether grunted “but I’d hurry up because once I’m done so is he”

Phantom scrambled to stand at omegas side, delta rounding the other so he was surrounded. Phantom was quick with his strokes, having pulled away early and focusing on delta he had long since lost the feeling. Delta however was slow, watched omegas hand fly over himself to try and match aether.

“Shit- squeeze it baby, play with the tip come on-“ aether looked down. It was a sight to watch, seeing omega shamelessly touch himself in order to cum in time with him. Desperate strokes that sounded slick with precum from being teased for who knows how long.

“Fuck you feel good, fucking swallow it- all of it” aether quickly spilled down omegas throat, holding his head down to the base. Phantom came first, splattering on his shoulders and hair while delta aimed more for his chest.

Cum dribbled out the sides of his mouth as he pulled off, the magic slowly unraveling itself from his mind so he could have a coherent thought once again. Sticky and tired, his old joints aching.

[nuclearjacks]

Apparently some of y’all (over on TikTok) thought my animatic was a MegOp wedding, and while that wasn’t the intention, it definitely looks like that jxjdjdjdjd💞

The original caption for the instrumental by dreamkid was (I’m paraphrasing here) ‘the girl nobody noticed walks into prom’, so i wanted to go with a formal function (I like to imagine its some kind of peace meeting between the Autobots and Decepticons which is why they’re all pretty hostile looking in the first two frames) to fit the theme of the instrumental 🥰

And with the lyrics by izzyperri “she doesnt wanna be the girl she used to be”, as I was animating the flashbacks to Orion through Megs POV, I honestly fell for the idea that its Megs being unable to part with ‘the girl Optimus used to be’ when all Oppy’s trying to do is create new memories with an old flame : ( he knows he’ll never be Orion again, but Megs can’t help but see Orion in him😭 i love these two djfjdjdjdjfndj

[purplesimmer455]

Some more photos I took because I wanted to use another pose for Megs and Is. This one is a bit more random, and one pose has Megan biting Iseul's arm as their fur baby Flash looks at her like 'mom, why the heck are you biting ma's arm?' 😂

Megan loves to lightly bite Iseul sometimes, mostly on the shoulder. Iseul doesn't mind it, and it makes her laugh. If they're woohooing then Megan might bite Iseul somewhere else like her leg or stomach. 😊

Pose:

@simmerberlin's Love hurts. I like a lot of her poses and have 8 billion of them in my game. 🥰

[3terna15unshin3]

Connected

—

A/N: idea came from this ask, so thank u anon🥰🥰 it was so fun to think of how Matty and Este’s relationship was seen from the other side like what fans pick up on, and also establish how much they decide to share with fans vs keep to themselves. this concept is so interesting to me but i had a hard time writing from the pov of a fan hahaha so i just did it this way instead :))

This obvs is based heavily on TBSG lore so none of this makes sense if you haven’t read the main fic - go do that first!! and also check out the Instagram AUs, they add to the pizazz

—

“Love, look what I just saw on Twitter. This is hilarious.”

Este points her phone screen towards Matty as they sit in bed on a Sunday morning. He yawns, tired and still half asleep, then blinks his eyes a few times to read what she’s showing him. It’s a tweet from a fan that sits in her mentions from a couple of days ago when a clip from his Zane Lowe interview resurfaced.

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

thinking about the fact that matty mentioned meeting e.manansala when she worked at a bookstore in manc to zane and in this 2018 interview he said his fav spot in the city is Greenhouse Books …….. what are the chances this is the same bookstore bc that would be so😭😭😭💔💔💔💔 https://manchesterwire.co.uk/?s=matty+healy+give-yourself-a-try/arts&culture/article

jaymie SAW UNDO LIVE trmanb1ackk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Hold on you might be onto something

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to trmanb1ackk

right like okaayyy bookstore worker x customer to lovers notting hill pipeline????? 🤭 huge if true

She watches his eyes scan over the text and a fuzzy smile grow on his face. Matty loves talking about Este when he can—to bring some much deserved attention to her writing—and did so often, but does’t always mention many the details of their relationship. That was until strolling around the Northern Quarter with Zane brought a bit of it out of him.

Este is what brings him back to Manchester the most often, from visiting her family and Cate and Georgia to just needing a bit of a homey feeling from its familiar pubs and nostalgic shops. So, naturally, Matty talked about her in the interview done for the release of Being Funny—explaining how they’d met and how much the city means to them both.

“How they put two and two together is beyond me,” he says, scratching his head. “That Manchester Wire interview was five years ago now, you know. Did you ever read that?”

She chuckles. “Course I did! We had a few fans come in that summer with the sole intention of coming to a place you recommended, actually.”

“Why have you never told me that?” Matty asks, “You’re welcome for the business, by the way.”

“You never even told me about your little shout out, to be fair. I had to find out on my own,” Este teases. “Plus, we weren’t even a thing at that point—we’d met once! Quite creepy, in retrospect.”

“When you put it like that it’s honestly so cringe so please change the subject now.” Matty buries his head in the bunches of sheets that sit in her lap, embarrassed and frankly too sleepy to defend himself.

Este giggles, letting her hands settle into his curls. “Oh c’mon, you weren’t cringe. I’m just pulling your leg. It was sweet,” she reassures him.

“You’re just saying that because you feel bad,” he whines, then rubs his eyes to try and get the sleep out of them. “That’s so crazy that they dug that up, though. I’m not sure if many people know you’ve been around since then.”

“They probably looked at your life in 2019 and figured you were a rockstar with a new girl in every city but in reality you were calling me to get to sleep every night and doing origami in your free time because it reminded you of me.”

Matty’s jaw drops at her blunt comments. “I was about to get mad but I can’t even disagree.” He sits up, raking the hair out of his eyes. “Do people still use the word ‘simp’? Can that be applied to this situation? Was I a simp?”

She throws her head back, mouth wide, as she laughs at how ridiculous his question is.

“Please don’t say ‘simp’, love. You’re 34.” Este squeezes out between her giggles, “But no, people don’t use that word anymore. And yes it can be applied. And also yes, you were. And still are.”

“Proudly am,” he adds.

She leans into his side and he snakes his arm around her waist. They sit there, Matty only in a pair of pyjama pants and her an oversized tee, scrolling through the funny replies to the tweet and how big of a deal some fans were making it.

“You should respond. Tell Megs that she’s right.”

“Seriously?” Este asks, shocked that he’d want her to engage in something so meaningless and speculative.

But alas, he nods casually with a smile. “Yeah. They seem sweet, and just curious. And maybe being such a simp will give me some brownie points,” confirms Matty.

“God, enough of that word!”

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Can confirm🤝

liv livmymistake_

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and e.manansala

MEGS OH MY GOD

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and e.manansala

UMMMMMMMMMMM

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

omg hi😭😭😭 are being fr i can’t cope

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Greenhouse is the bookstore i worked at and is where matty and i met that year:)) and hi💌

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

i think i’m psychic for guessing that🤭🤭🤭🤭

—

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

k now i’m going crazy bc i had no clue him and este had been dating for that long💀 was genuinely convinced it had been 3 years max

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Literally they didn’t post each other until like 2020

sarah🧸 _102sar

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

I think she was at the 2018 Pryzm show too. Not sure but I was at the after party and remember seeing her there lol

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to _102sar

WHAT…….. this lore being uncovered omg

“Someone recognises you from the Brief Inquiry album release show?!” exclaims Matty in disbelief. “There’s no way.”

They still sit in bed as Este types away, having fun interacting with the small group. He leans his head on her shoulder and watches her as she does it.

“They’ve known you longer than I have, you know. They know their stuff,” she responds.

“Even I don’t remember you being at the Pryzm show.”

Este’s mouth falls open in shock, thoroughly offended. “You prick.”

“I’m joking!” Matty defends through fits of laughter. “C’mon E, I’m joking.”

She knows he is, but enjoys the theatrics of it all; shoving his head off her shoulder and scooting away from his touch in protest.

“That was a special night for me! The first time I saw you play and met the guys! Don’t make fun!” Este pouts, crossing her arms playfully.

“Fine. I take it back, I take it back,” Matty begs, dragging her back over to him and bringing her legs over top of his. He grabs her hand and places a kiss on her palm. “I remember meeting Cate, and introducing you to Louis. And Ross making fun of my gallbladder surgery, and leaving Cate on the dance floor to get drinks, and screaming at each other over the music at the bar. You telling me about the anniversary party. I very much remember!”

“Okay, okay. Enough gushing. I forgive you.”

Matty pecks her palm once more and shuffles her even closer. “Open Twitter back up. This is fun.”

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and _102sar

This is absolutely shocking bc how did his chronically online ass manage to hide a whole gf that long

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to ittsjudesk

fr!!! like do we think she was on the abiior tour with them bc i swear jordan absolutely fed us with so much bts content it would be impossible to miss?? someone dig

sarah🧸 _102sar

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1D and ittsjudesk

If u scroll back on her IG u can see Matty in her comments since then. And they’d repost each other on their stories and stuff🥲 So not that hidden if ur a stalker like me lmao

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to _102sar

thoroughly upset that i missed so much bf matty content </3

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND and _102sar

Ignore me stalking u🤭🤭 i was indeed at that Pryzm show lol but we weren’t dating yet. And during abiior tour I saw a few UK shows but otherwise i was just in Manc working/being a bad groupie x

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to PL4YINGONMYM1ND

Also matty is sitting beside me now and he is cool with me filling u in (it was his idea) and he says hi. and that u guys are cute

megs ⎕ PL4YINGONMYM1ND

→ Replying to e.manansala

ohhh yes u are a working woman how could i forget!! bookstore worker/groupie same difference. thank u for responding😭 u are the coolest❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 (also hi matty😳)

Jude 🥾🌎 ittsjudesk

→ Replying to e.manansala

Hi Matty sorry for calling u chronically online x

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to ittsjudesk

He forgives you (but it’s true imo)

liv livmymistake_

→ Replying to e.manansala

este wait i have to know …. since u are a former bookstore girlie turned writer are u the reason matty periodically spam posts a bunch of literature on his instagram stories???? did u convert him to bookstoregirlieism??

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to livmymistake_

I am obsessed with the idea that he was illiterate before meeting me so i’m gonna say yes. thank u for that

Este e.manansala

→ Replying to livmymistake_

Liv it’s me I stole the phone and don’t appreciate this sentiment tbh. You should know I’ve always been a wanker so all the literature spams are just me letting that out and este just enables me. hope that helps x Matty

[thegreatobsesso]

✍🏼 Last line(s) tag

Tagged by my brilliant friend @winterandwords for last lines! I'm currently herp-a-derping back and forth between lots of different arc III (safehouse era) content and this was where I left off tonite. 🥰

Milo

By the time he’s finished, there’s a bowl of pink-tinged water on the floor and half of Meg’s foot is eggplant purple. Milo helps pile enough pillows to keep it elevated. “She’ll have to stay off her feet for awhile,” Octavius notes from the kitchen as he wrings the soiled towels into the sink. “And that’ll be you as her caretaker, I think it's fair to say I’ve done my part.” “If it wasn’t for you I might’ve died,” Meg says in reply, and Octavius doesn’t even look up. “You absolutely would have died. The two of you have the combined survival instincts of a suicidal sloth.” “Thank you.” He opens the freezer and begins loudly loading an ice pack. “Yes. Well. You’re welcome. Let’s not get weepy about it.”

Tagging @feldspursfiyero, @foxboyclit, @space-writes, and @pertinax--loculos to share some last lines. Love you guys!