#no wonder it smells like ass in there....

[gobald]

Lobotomite mask really looks like very old worn out underwear...

[electronicwitchcollection]

~*How they kiss*~

edited: I added Byakuya 🩵

Shinji

Shinji kisses you dirtily. Not one for chaste brushing of lips or quick, soft presses of your mouths, no, Shinj wants devour every single crevace of your mouth. His tongue will drag across your own, twirling and manipulating your tongue in ways you never knew it could bend. He'd memorise the very shape and placement of your teeth, extract your taste from your mouth until it over powers his own. He pushes into the kiss, invading your space and pushing you off balance, keeping you pinned flush againt his body until hes the only thing you can feel. His hands would wonder and explore, grabbing, pinching, squeezing anything he can get hold of, just to taste your sweet moans. It would be hot and heavy, a far cry from what would be considered acceptable PDA. He would be vocal, groaning and grunting into your mouth, hips rolling into you to let you feel just how much he wants you.

Gin

The way Gin kisses can only be described as torturous. Gin would keep you waiting, until you were needy and desperate and then he would make you wait some more. He'd ghost his lips over yours, his breath tickling the sensitive skin, tingling with the the taunt of what could be. He'd lean in, keeping you on the edge before averting to your ear, a sly grin on his lips when he hears your breath catch in your throat at the denial. You can hear the amusement in his tone, so intertwined with the almost cruel satisfaction as he whispers in your ear..  "I don' think ya desperate enough yet..". When he finally, after begging, pleading, bribing, kisses you, it would just be the next step of sweet torture. He would kiss you excruciating slow, bearly there pressure moulding your lips together. He would move away if you tried to take any control, making your start his torturous dance all over again. He would slide his tongue into your mouth only a fraction, giving you only a sliver of what you crave, building up slowly. He'd give you only a moment of everything this has been building up to before pulling away, leaving you desperately wanting more.

Shunsui

Consumingly. Shunsui kisses like he does everything else. Languid, lazy, unhurried and savoured. He takes the time to throughly enjoy and experience every facet of kissing you. While the kiss isnt outwardly passionate or ravenous.. you cant help but feel completely consumed by him and his ownership of the kiss. Shunsui's fingers trail softly over your curves, lovingly memorising every flawless imperfection on your body. He tilts your head up to meet him with a gentle yet confident finger under your chin, thumb brushing tantilisingly slow over your bottom lip. When he leans down and captures your lips with his own, your sences are consumed by him. The softness of his lips contrasting against the slight scratch of his beard. The floral smell that clings to his clothes, almost transporting you to a field of wild flowers on a summers day. The heat of his body slowly sinking into your own, relaxing you fully into his embrace. His sake infused breath would mingle with your own as he parts your lips, slowly caressing your tongue with his. Shunsui plays with varying pressures, tilting your head this way and that to ensure he consumes every ounce of pleasure from you. He exubes a lazy confidence, knowing exactly how to make you melt and surrender to him completely

Urahara

Urahara kisses you teasingly. He'd kiss his way up your neck, grinning into your skin as he feels your pulse quicken. Changing up between firm presses and barely there brushes, nipping and grazing his lip against you. He would look down at you with mischief in his eyes, teasingly getting closer to your lips, before turning your head and tracing the shell of your ear with his tongue. He'd chuckle darkly at your impatient huff.. "you're cute when you pout.."  he'd husk in your ear, grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you flush against him. His other hand would cup your jaw, tilting your head up to take in your frustrated look. Leaning in again, he'd flick the tip of his tongue over your lip, grinning cockily as he pulls away... "Beg for it.." . When you break, whining and fisting his top in your hands, "Kisuke...please..."  .. he'd lower his head back to your lips, moving back slightly to make you groan, smirking before whispering "good girl.."  When Kisuke finaly kisses you, its perfectly constructed to drive you wild. Pressing his lips against yours, hand squeezing your ass, he'd run his tongue over your bottom lip, playfully backing away when you part them. The corners of his mouth would turn up in a smirk, letting you chase him before surging forward and claiming your mouth. He'd groan when your tongues meet, greedily tasting you, working himself just as much as you with his teasing.

Grimmjow

Grimmjow kisses you hungrily.. possessively. You are his and he will take what he wants from you. Grimmjow doesn't waste time with teasing or playful kisses. Dosen't do soft caresses or lingering touches. Grimmjow is hungry for you and he is going to devour you. He'd grip you, fingers pawing at your hips or ass as he held you prisoner in his grasp, leaving you no chance of escaping until he was fully sated and satisfied. Grimmjow would wrap his hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to prove his ownership, keeping you exactly where he wants you as he slams his lips into yours. Sharp teeth would nip at your lip, demanding entrance, tongue forcing its way through if you took too long for his liking. Grimmjow would growl into the kiss, tongue battling with yours, forcing your submission. He would greedily lap up your taste,  tongue rolling over your own again and again, parting only when his chest burned for oxygen. When he finally breaks the kiss, you're both left panting. He keeps you close, your hot breath mixing together, eyes taking in your lips, plump and swollen, parted with drsperate breaths.. looking so wrecked from just his kiss.. he'd growl "mine"

Ukitake

Ukitake would kiss you tenderly. Soft touches and gentle caresses is the only way this man would touch you. You are precious to him, the love of his life and he couldn't imagine touching you with anything other than delicate, tender touches. He would cup your cheek, sming down at you with adoration as he places a loving kiss on your forehead. He would let his lips linger, savouring the sweet genture. His eyes closing to fully take in the way his lips press into your forhead, breathing in the warm scent of your shampoo. Pulling back he would rub gos thumb gently over your cheek, so soft and smooth. Intertwining his othe hand with yours, Jushiro would bring them up to his lips, curved in a soft smile. He'd plant gentle kisses to each of your fingers, eyes locked onto yours for every one. Taking a step closer, he would angle your face up to his, eyes slowly taking in every feature of your face. He would tilt his head, pressing his lips to yours. Lingering together, holding onto the connection for as long as he could. Jushiro would press his forhead into yours, embracing the quiet, intimate moment. 

Kensei

Kensei would kiss you completely. Kensei is very much a 'if it's worth doing, it's worth doing right' kind of man and kissing you is no different. When he kisses you, he kisses you thoroughly. There will not be a single doubt in your mind that he has kissed you as good as he could've. Kensei would run his fingers through your hair, fisting it just above the nape of your neck and manipulate you to the perfect angle. Hand covering your hip, he would hold onto you protectivly, pressing his lips firmly against yours. He would kiss your top lip softly before kissing your bottom lip harder. Tugging your hair slightly in a silent command to open your mouth, Kensei would tilt his head to fit against you seamlessly. He would start out slowly, savouring the feel and taste of your tongue swirling around his own. With a grunt Kensei would pull you closer, deepening the kiss, leaving no part of your mouth without his attention. He would loosen his hold on your hair, gently cupping the back of your neck as he slows down the kiss. Leaving you feeling fully and completely kissed. 

Byakuya 

Byakuya kisses you like it’s the last time. Byakuya knows the pain of loosing the one you love, the heartache of knowing what that last kiss feels like. When he kisses you, he kisses you with everything. He would cup your cheek gently, tilting your head up just right to be able to look deep in your eyes. He would brush your hair behind your ear and  lower his lips to yours, pouring all his love and affection into the soft kiss. Not leaving you any doubt just how much this man adores you. Byakuya would pull you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist as he deepens the kiss. Gently coaxing your lips apart and sensually brushing his tongue against yours. Committing to memory your taste, the feel of you, your scent. When you part he’d keep you close, breaths mingling between you as you steady your breathing, before resting his forehead against yours. 

[icarusredwings]

"I said

Silence.

I warned you, If you won't stop, I would do it myself."

Francis wasn't done with him. Not yet anyway. But he would make him obedient. Wordlessly taking orders like a machine. No more back talk. He would make him perfect. At least… that is....Until Logan shows up.

Chapter 3.

Brand New City

Cw: Dead Dove, Mentions of Rape, Kidnapping, Straight up torture, Various cruel and unusual punishments, Blood, Murder, Feral behavior, Descriptions of pain and wounds, Voices, Hallucinations, Extreme hurt/comfort, Angst, Loss of healing factor, loss of voice- Permanently(!), Character death.

You may experiance lots of crying.

He would hum if he could. Hum along to the electricity he could hear from the light above him. Make a song out of it. Harmonize with the screams.

But he couldn't even do that.

Opening the door was none other then the man who prevented him from ever doing that again. His head lowers on instinct, trying to get a better look through the sweat running down his forehead. He would have loved to explain to the reader how this place stunk. It SHOULD have smelled like rotting flesh, agony, and B.o. But it smelled of nothing.

Nothing at all.

He couldn't even taste the blood in his mouth.

The man in front of him smirked, too smugly for his liking. Clapping his hands together he stood about 2 feet from his chair, rubbing them together as he smiled bigger than the Joker at his batman themed birthday party.

“So. How's your recovery coming? Hopefully the boys weren't too rough with you.” He states, looking down on him like Johnathan Groff as King George did on John Adams. “You know how they can be. You know the saying, Boys will be boys.”

The comment was direct. It hurt. It hurt because he knew that his goons were in fact too rough with him. He knew he wouldn't give a rat's ass if they didn't feed him, punched him, kicked him. He didn't care if they held him down, beat him until he couldn't move any longer, coughed blood in their face or if they had their way with him until they became bored.. and it hurt.

Oh, did it hurt...

Still did..

Look, Wade could take a lot, he was already mentally snapped. So for them to take away that last bit of sanity he held? It was simply cruel. Like hanging a bone to a starving dog JUST out of reach no matter how far it jumps and snaps, always failing, eventually giving up, laying down, and accepting its fate of permanent malnutrition to the point of death. Accepting that by fighting it was only moving up their appointment with her.

With Death.

Wade felt like dying after what they've done to him. He knew he thought about it a lot but… He's never wanted to see her more than now. She would kiss him better.. she would take away his pain.

He was sure that his brain was rotting in places it wasn't before, the flesh of his mind decomposing, hot with dehydration and.. what was he talking about? Oh my god was he STILL talking? For fuck sakes.

Glancing up, Francis was still going on about something. Probably something stupid. Why did mad scientists always gloat to their victims?

He wondered how long he was going to let him rot like this. His limbs were already so numb, so heavy and felt like gravity was close to ripping them off with no help at all. It hurt.

That's all he could keep thinking.

It hurts.

What exactly? Well… Everything. Mainly his throat. God did his throat hurt. It throbbed, was sticky, bloody, and raw. His spine hurt, his toes hurt, his jaw hurt, his fingers felt so numb that he wasn't even sure if they were still attached. The soreness alone was killing him. Whatever he did to him? Wade felt like he enhanced his pain receptors. Taking them from a 15 to a 150.

It hurt so badly to breathe, each breath making his chest shake, rise and fall, trembling. This only enhanced, the sharp pain running through his heavy cheek, flinching as he was slapped.

“What's my name?”

Glancing up at him, Wade was more then confused. His body was falling into pieces and THAT'S what he cared about!? What's worse is he knew that he couldn't answer him. He was physically incapable of it.

“I said ‘What's my name?!” He screams at him, leaning in close, staring as Wade glared daggers at him, his mind already thinking of millions of ways to kill him.

If only he had the strength to fight..

Leaning in, Francis smirked that sick bastard of a smile, putting his hand to his ear. “Sorry, What was that? I don't think I heard you correctly, could you repeat that?”

About 5 full seconds pass before his grin gets widder, breathing out as he stands again, sighing in relief.

“Finally… Silence. What did I tell you? I warned you that If you won't stop, I would have to do it myself.”

He flicks Wade in the nose almost playfully. Wade, who, if it wasn't for the tape wrapped around his head to the point breathing through his mouth wasn’t an option- would have bitten his finger clean off.

Francis punches him. Hard. He breathed heavily through his nose, heaving and trying to groan out but nothing came out. Nothing ever came out anymore..

He laughs, smiling. Wade could count all of his teeth if his eye wasn't starting to swell up. Grabbing his face, tears forced themselves out of his eyes and down his cheek. Pulling him close, Francis put their heads together. “Oh, Look at you. So pretty when you cry.. are those for me? Hm? Ooh yes, Show me those big scared eyes. You aren't so full of quips now, are you?”

His hand reaches down, cranking up the collar around his neck, watching Wade's body shake. Not from fear but because his body was physically struggling to stay upright. He would have already flopped over if his arms and legs weren't chained, making him only slouch instead of fall to the floor.

“Let's be honest, you look better with your mouth shut anyway.”

Looking at him, he was confused. So confused. What was wrong with this guy? What kind of game is this? If Wade's voices didn't agree with him he would have claimed that Francis lost it far more than he did.

He pulls away, trailing a finger from the collar, going up his throat and across his jaw. “So let's make you gorgeous, huh? So… What's my name?”

Wade's eyes widen, his pupils, for once, shrinking. He squeezes his legs further together, trying to turn away only to flick him off with his untied finger, his wrists tied to the chair arms.

Francis slams a fist down on the finger, snapping it back as Wade jolts, silently screaming, huffing, beginning to hyperventilate and struggle against the chair best he could.

FffffUCK that hurt! He didn't remember such little fingers ever hurting that badly. Did it always burt that bad? Jesus christ! He needed out. He needed to escape. But he's already tried all his tricks. It only got him hurt more.

Again he hits him, slapping him with the back of his hand hard enough to bust his lip through the tape. The crimson that flooded his mouth made him flinch, gritting his teeth as he swallowed. It was agonizing. Each movement of his throat muscles was worse and worse, seeming almost paralyzed.

“Where do you think you'll go? Huh? You ain't going anywhere! And now look at what you've made me do!” He shouts, as Wade's head leans back, looking at him through his blonde eyelashes, exhausted, the vein they had in his arm pumping out what blood he was replenishing itself at snail speeds.

“You've made me ruin one of my best works yet… but that's okay. All good bitches break eventually. And then you'll be finally useful. The perfect soldier.”

What was it with people and the perfect soldier thing? Didn't the Winter Soldier already have this arc?? And didn't he already try to make him perfect in the first movie? God the writers are really getting lazy aren't they.. His eyes roll, and again he's hit, the sting running up his jaw and across his cheek, feeling the burn in his nose as it begins bleeding heavier.

“But no, you couldn't behave! So now you're going to die, alone, sitting in your own piss. What? Like anyone would actually come to save you?” he laughs. “You actually believe that? That anyone would actually care about you? You're disgusting. Fake skin and all, I know who you are underneath it all.”

Francis grabs his wrists, leaning forward. “Even your own mother couldn't love a face like that. Could she?”

‘He was probably right’, Wade thinks, feeling himself slipping away. His blood felt as if it were pouring out of him like a barrel of whiskey with holes shot through it.. Why didn't Francis just kill him already? He could easily shoot him. Get rid of him like the nasty scum he was.. but he didn't. He nee-

His mind switches to something else mid sentence in his head. A different voice taking over.

Whiskey… the smell of it stained on Logan's sweatshirts used to be the only thing that kept him sane, But now? It hurt too much to think about. It hurts too much to think about his loss. To think he would never smell that again...

If he thought about it anymore? Well, his heart was already about to die.. might as well go out thinking about that muscley hunk of Canadian. How gently he held him. How hot it was when he protected puppins from big dogs at the dog park or braided Laura's hair… how he loved him.

Truely.. loved him..

‘Never again, I fear’, Wade thinks and believes it brokenheartedly.

“Are you even listening to m-”

wwwwWWWOOOO

His head snapped towards the door, picking up a com as he clicked the button, walking away from Wade. Thank god. He was starting to worry that he'd kiss him. Ewww. He would never kiss someone named ‘francis’ or ‘ajax’ for that matter. Wade didn't like soap in his mouth.

“Turn that off! Now! What did I tell you morons abo-” There was shouting on the other end of the line before a scream. Something along the lines of ‘He's here’

“Who!? Who's here?- Doesn't matter. Shut the whole place down! Hello? God damn it-” he switched a line, the loud blaring of the alarm drowning him out. “Angel! What's going on up there? Hello!?? Why the fuck do I even pay you guys? For what?”

On the other line, there was shuffling, boots, shouting, “Find him!-”

The look on Francis’ face was golden. His little slave trade was getting busted. And Wade was physically chained to his seat to watch, death glaring daggers at him with the smallest, smuggest smirk under his tape, breathing through his nose heavily.

“This isn't over yet. Don't you even dare think I'm finished here! You Will obey me!”

The moment he ran out of the room to go save his research (or possibly abandon it), A rumble came from the wall.

Claws.

What? No. He was hallucinating again. His mind was so cruel to him now. Starved, dehydrated and exhausted, mentally physically and emotionally, you name it.

Leaning his head back against the chair, he sighs, watching as an imaginary Wolverine came through the wall, panting, snarling, feral. Like an animal hunting its prey.

The amount of dust and mold that came from the wall was enough to make him cough, and in an instant, Logan was at his side, tearing through the chains.

Damn.. He'd have to give the imagination team some props upstairs. This seemed way too real. The way the red lights flashed over his eyes made him look so pissed, his frantic worry in those blue eyes, the struggle in his voice to keep from crying as his nose twitched. He was sniffing him...he didn't recognize him…

His mouth opened to mutter something.

What was he saying? ‘Oh- hey! Stop shaking me!’ Is what he wanted to say, only to realize that.. Hallucinations couldn't touch you.

His eyes widened, He had given up on being pretty but if that was the truth he wouldn't know how to survive. But he was anything but pretty right now, snot, tears, blood and piss covering him.

It was now that Logan yelled something, Directing some agents or.. police? It was hard to tell when He felt like the ground was trying to drag him down, gravity taking hold of him as he slouched over in the chair, still in too much pain to support himself.

“I need a code, Get me a collar code, NOW!” he read his lips, though, he could have Said “I saw an old get me a dollar cod now” but that didn't make much sense, Wade thought. Then again he wasn't thinking much at all right now.

When Logan finally ripped off both collars and all of the wiring/tubing, he looked like he would puke at the sight of him. Pushing his shoulders up against the back of the chair, his hands shaking, covered in blood and sweat, tears flooding his eyes.

Aw.. he didn't like seeing Logan cry. He was saying so many things, shouting at him angrily, hurt. Those big Atlantic eyes becoming a true ocean. A soft smile came to his bruised and busted lips, staring at him so fondly, sympathetic. He missed Logan.. he missed him so much that his eyes stung just from seeing him. His love was so heavy, weights he could never escape in a room full of quicksand.

Wade opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

“Wade! Answer me! What did you take? What did he give you!? Honey, look at me! Please! Tell me, tell me anything! Wade!-” he shakes him again.

“Tell me what you took, Wade look at me, Tell me what'd you take? Wilson!.. please.. talk to me. Answer me, Wade!” He shouts.

He flinches. Hard.

“Oh… sweetheart....What did he do to you..?” His voice cracks, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek but Wade's hand comes up to hit it away, trying to instinctively turn away into the chair, hiding. He looked so.. terrified. Like he didn't know who he was.

Something about this sends Logan into a rage, growling loudly and snarling towards the door where he ran off. He stands, hairs on his body raised, eyes glazed over with blind hatred.

Just before he runs to shred the man who did this to his husband, He grabs him.

Shaking from weakness and fear, in that chair sat a man he barely knew, eyes as blue as his own, blonde hair growing to look like a buzz cut. So thin. So weak. His neck was burned, his nose was bleeding down his chin, his lip joining in, his black eye almost swollen shut, deep yellow and purple bruising on his rib cage, hand prints on his throat, internal bleeding in his gut. He could tell by the smell of him. That and the massive pooling that shown on his stomach.

His fingers were gripping on Logan's shirt, and tight from the looks of it.

As tight as his remaining strength would let him.

The pleading look in his eye's begged him not to go. Begged him never to leave his side ever again. Such big eyes.. such desperation.. so much pain.

Grunting, Logan points to the door. “DON'T let him get away or I'm coming after YOU!” he growls, watching as all of the remaining soldiers run out the room, leaving Logan with Wade. And Wade with Logan.

No one else mattered now.

Sitting in front of him, Logan held his hands, suddenly panicking. “Wade!” He shouted, squeezing his hand. It was cold.

Where were they? Alaska? Canada? No.. not Canada. If this was Canada he would have to move to a new city and teach himself how to die, how to bury a memory as his life was burying his own with each passing moment.

“Wade? Stay with me. Come on, Just be strong a little longer! Please- You can't leave me again!!” He shouts at the top of his water filled lungs, but Wade can't see anything. He couldn't feel anything either except the cold concrete against his naked stomach as everything disappears.

Heh… funny.. the one time God answered his prayers… When he said he wished he could see Logan again before he died, he didn't mean this.

As did everyone eventually.. as Logan was destined to.

This wasn't how he wanted to go out but.. he was pretty sure that Fate had lost her patience with him.

And so.. that's it... that's the final bell. Close the curtains.. roll the credits.. This movie's over. No post credit scene.

Just…

The End

[crystallizsch]

oh hey it’s the savanaclaw guys

heartslabyul • savanaclaw • octavinelle • scarabia • pomefiore • ignihyde • diasomnia • grim

[dixidin]

Me and my friend has the realization with a few of our other characters that oh wow. a lot of them seem like Tim Wright.... so of course I did what any normal person would do and

@zol1x you better eat this up cause I SCRAMBLED to finish up Jay aka Greta and I did it all for YOU (jk I don't like you...../j)

Sorry if the quality is bad, still not quite understood on how to post stuff from my sketchbook. The characters I used are in the tags!!

If you repost this on another website, please give credit. Do not put my art in any ai or repost it as your own work. You are free to use this as a pfp as long as you credit. Any like or rebblog is greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading! -dixidin

[spectral-snippets-and-drabbles]

YOU GUYS STINK!

(Danny 0.3 seconds away before smelling the Heroes he just met.)

So I've been pondering about how ghost have the ability to sense one another out when close enough, but now I've been thinking of something for the living. Fanon has something like this in a few fics, making it how Danny can tell who the Leaguers are in/out of costume by calling it Death Touched.

I offer: The Stench of Death.

When a person comes close to a deadly encounter, the event becomes a smell is akin to the near experience. Say if someone survived a fire? The smell would be close to burning the materials being burnt and the smoke for example.

Think like food and how you can smell all the things that go into the dish.

The more you get into deadly situations, the more smells you can pick up on as well as getting stronger. Ghosts can sense the Touch of Death on the living, but not the Stench. Danny, who is a Half alive, can. If he focuses hard enough, he can pick up the scent and sniff people out like a bloodhound.

Now take the Justice League and all their branches/allies, organizations who fight to stop bag guys and world-ending events every couple of months...their smell is prominent enough for Danny to easily pick it up.

Now enter one Daniel Nightingale who has left Amity for [reason] and in [Hero's City], trying to keep a low profile because heroes exist now, he's retired now after sorting out the business between the ghostly and living worlds, and wants to have as close to a normal life as he possibly can before taking the throne.

But one day, he stops a known rouge that would've caused some serious harm to the populace if someone didn't stop them, gaining their attention. They try to get information on Danny, but there's nothing out of the ordinary on his file, so they decided to do the next best thing; watch him.

The young man is very guarded and observing his surroundings often, so the idea of him being a new meta struggling to handle his newly awakened powers or a new alien on Earth are possible theories.

The only problem is that, when they get they close, he tends to leave the area and head home. It's like this for a while until they realize they haven't seen him in some time now and find out he packed up his things and moved to another town...a different city a Leaguer call their hometurf, so they notify that hero of Danny's presence and the cycle repeats itself a few times before Danny is getting tracked by multiple Leauge members.

The latest Leaguer is trying to keep an eye on Danny without spooking him until Danny gets the jump on them and calls them by their civilian name while peltong them with hygiene products.

[see-arcane]

Mina after each hypnotism: Sorry for the Bastard vibes everyone

The Bastard vibes aren't her fault, they know this

[faerun]

work is deeply annoying today. i hate when people (my coworkers) pretend to be stupid to get out of doing their jobs

[todayisafridaynight]

rgg really such an unfortunate series for masato to spawn in cause everyone and their mother smokes. even his dads smoke. the fact his condition didnt get worse and he REALLY didnt *die is a miracle

*from his condition not by the most Motherfucker ending imaginable

[softquietsteadylove]

For the Doctor AU

5 times Gil tried to tell her he wants more and one time he finally get to tell her👀

This time, he thinks.

He slept over last night--not like that, though. They have yet to do anything intimate outside of the hospital. But he likes sleeping over at Thena's whether they make love or not. Because he likes being with her.

That's what he's been trying to tell her, at least, but they always end up not talking about that. They talk about work, and their days, and whatever they're watching while they eat takeout. And maybe they end up making out a little bit.

He has yet to manage to ask her out in any proper way.

Part of him is a little worried she doesn't want that--just wants to be friends. But he also knows Thena, and he knows she feels what he does (or at least something akin to it). Because he can see it in her eyes when they're drifting off on her couch, or when they kiss, or when he calls her his 'wife' when they're at work.

"Coffee?"

"Fuck yes," Gil answers instantly, and they both laugh as she offers him his mug. It's not just a mug, it's his mug. He has a couple of things that are his here at her place.

Thena sighs into her own cup of coffee pod 'vanilla latte'. As if they're not going to get some from the coffee kiosk at the hospital as soon as they get to work, anyway.

Gil watches her hold her hair back as she tips the mug back to chug it in her haste. She's so impatient it's a wonder she ever became a doctor. She's also cute.

Thena blinks as he pushes her hair behind her ear for her. Her mug is empty now, although she looks into the bottom of it to keep herself from looking at him.

Gil moves his fingers down her jaw so he can tip her chin up, slowly and gently. He leans down, kissing her, morning coffee breath and all. She leans into it, happily kissing him back on the tips of her toes.

She deepens the kiss, looping her arms around his neck and leaning into him more. He receives her, his arms around her lithe waist. Their tongues swipe against each other and their different mixes of coffee blend together.

"Fuck!"

Thena sinks back to her heels as she rips her beeper off her hip with a fury. She huffs, "I'm already on my way, they can't wait fifteen minutes?"

"What is it?" he asks, although his disappointment is also evident in his face and tone.

"Nothing too bad, but the trauma surgeon from upstairs is stuck in a procedure and the children are panicking." She looked up at him with an apologetic smile, tossing her mug in the sink and reaching for her backpack, "sorry, Ajak needs me."

He shakes his head with a smile, leaving half of his coffee in his mug on the counter and following her out the door, "duty calls."

Okay, maybe this time.

"Hey, Thena-"

"A bit busy, here, chap."

Gil blinks at the acerbic reception. Eros has never liked him, although he's not sure if it's a surgeon thing, or if he's just a little stuck up or what. "Sorry."

"Gil," Thena nods him in though, over to her side as she looks at the x-rays they have spread out.

Eros glares at him the whole time.

"Patient is late 50s, has thin blood, we've got what might be the beginning of a heart murmur on scans," she runs through the details, pointing to the chest x-rays as needed.

"And if I open him up within the week," Eros interjects eagerly, clicking the pen from his white coat pocket. "I can have that taken care of."

Gil makes a face.

"Exactly," Thena pats the back of her hand against where his shoulder meets his chest (right over his heart).

Eros raises a brow, but he doesn't have any of his unpleasant attitude for Thena, it seems.

"I mean," Gil shrugs, but Thena encourages him to go on, despite the surgeon in the room mentally willing him to shut his damn mouth. He slips his hands in his hoodie pockets, "do we really wanna open up someone at this age just for a murmur?"

Thena turns to Eros with her arms crossed, obviously vindicated, "see?"

Eros manages a smile for the lady (which is more than he managed for Gil, that's for sure). "A pacemaker is not a guarantee, my dear. It is a temporary solution that could be solved with a heart stint."

"I don't know, man," Gil continues to argue, not that anyone asked him. Eros makes it very clear that no one asked for him to go on, but Thena leans closer to him, and that's all he needs for support. "The recovery from even a simple surgery is tough."

"And poking around an old man's aorta is needlessly risky," Thena ads, moving her crossed arms to put her hands on her hips. "We can insert a pacemaker endoscopically and have him home in 48 hours."

Eros sighs, but maybe he's not up for being teamed on because he gives up on his argument. He gives Thena a little smile, "most people who call me for a consult want my opinion."

Thena doesn't even glance at it, still focused on the case at hand. "I wanted a second opinion, and it happened to be yours."

"You really know how to shatter an ego, don't you?" Gil looks at Eros, wondering if he's imagining the flirtatious tone he's using. Is he?

"Egos don't fall under the umbrella of emergency medicine," she sasses right back at him as she collects up the chest x-rays and scans. She knows what she needs to, "therefore: not my problem."

Eros practically swoons in her direction, "careful, Thena. You'll break some hearts with that attitude."

"Well then I'll send them your way," she mutters, and it's really making small talk so she can leave and get back to her patient.

But Gil can see how one might mistake it for returning a playful jab. He looks at Eros, who now has heart eyes for all the world to see. Gil wonders if it's been like this the whole time--if he's always been this way with her.

Has Eros not liked him this whole time because he has a thing for Thena?

"Thanks for your time," Thena mutters, now eager to return to her patient with both good news and having been proven right (two of her favourite things as a doctor).

"Adieu, my lovely," Eros practically sighs.

Okay, buddy, take it down a notch. Gil tries not to give him a funny look as he opens the door for Thena and follows her out.

This time was promising.

That is, until Ajak swept Thena's arm into hers and all but dragged her into the closest bar to the hospital. Thena had managed to grab the corner of his hoodie and pull him along.

Now he's the official drink watcher, four different cocktails gathered under him like ducklings hiding from a hawk. It's not so bad, he supposes. He is sitting down after a long day, and one of these drinks is Thena's.

She's not nearly as into it as the other Emerge staff who followed them, but for Ajak's sake, she's here, and she's doing her best to have a good time. She's had half of a single vodka cran, while Ajak is somehow on her sixth tequila shot and hasn't even blinked.

"Nurses are a different breed."

Gil smiles as she sits down right next to him, watching as Ajak finds new victims to dance with her. Indeed, the other night nurses swarm around her, all of them dancing out the strife of their unreasonable working hours.

Thena reaches under him for the rest of her drink. "Sorry."

He looks at her, surprised as she sheepishly takes a sip from the dinky little cocktail straw in her glass.

"I've blown off Ajak ten times for every one, now, but-" she sighs, giving him her cutest pout and with those big, beautiful eyes of hers (unfair). "I didn't want to come without you."

"Hey, I'm not allergic to a drink after work," he chuckles, and sees the relief on her face straight away (she's more of a lightweight than she thinks she is). He motions around his brood of drinks, "besides, I'm here on important business."

She laughs, and he loves that sound. "Yes, you are taking up a very important vigil for us."

Gil shrugs, looking down at the drinks getting more watery by the second in the warmth of the bar. None of them are his; he opted to be the designated driver in case everyone - including his work wife - wanted to get drunk. "I don't mind."

Thena leans closer to him in her seat; he does the same. "I knew you wouldn't. I guess the girls felt the same."

Gil grins at her, "should I take that as a compliment, or that they don't see me as an eligible bachelor?"

Jokes aside, Thena looks at him, "are you?"

Gil looks at her too, gulping down the bait eagerly, "am I?"

Thena shifts in her seat, looking down at her pathetic single shot drink again. She tugs at the 3/4 sleeves of her white sweater. "W-Well-"

"Gil!"

He only looks at Ajak for a second, but he can see that look in her eye. He shakes his head, "no!"

"Gil," she sing-songs to him again, swaying her way over to him.

"No, no, no," he shakes his head more fervently, leaning closer to Thena for protection, "I'm the drink watcher."

"Thena's here now," Ajak waves off as she reaches to drag him up by the hoodie. She sinks her claws into him before looking at Thena, "you don't mind if we steal him, do you?"

He looks at her, pleading for help.

Thena laughs, "all yours."

He pouts at her as Ajak drags him to the circle of other night nurses shouting their glee, "betrayed by my own wife!"

Okay, this isn't a great time, he'll admit that.

Thena is in the field with him and Kingo. They got a call for a car accident with more injured than just he and Kingo could handle. Kingo is driving while she's in the back of the bus with him.

"That's quite a few," Thena mutters as she looks over the details sent by the dispatchers. It's at least two cars worth. "Why are there so many?"

"It was a kid in his 20s who called it in," Gil adds, leaning over her shoulder, "maybe there's more than five of them per car."

Thena huffs, snapping on some gloves with a particular fury, "kids."

As soon as the doors are open, they hear the screech of brakes and the crunch of metal against metal.

Gil looks down at her. She's wincing. "Thena?"

She shakes her head; she's shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Her leg is bothering her.

"Hey," Gil whispers, bending slightly to look at her. He moves in front of her, blocking off the sight of the crash (that just seems to be getting worse and worse). "Hey, it's me."

She looks at him then, and he can see that she's trying to keep a grip on herself.

He still thinks about that night--finding her pinned under that car. He still wonders if it would have happened at all if he had been by her side.

"Thena," he calls to her, pulling her eyes until they can lock onto his. He leans close to her, "just focus on me."

She nods faintly, her rapid breathing just starting to slow.

"That's it," he whispers, doing what he can to offer her shelter in the middle of the chaos that's already around them. "Just breathe."

She does so. If anything it sounds like it's hard for her to do, at the moment.

"I'm right here, baby," he whispers, letting his lips brush over her forehead. If he could sweep her into his arms and cuddle and kiss her better, he would. But this isn't the place, and it certainly isn't the time. "Just focus on me."

Thena gives her head one more shake, her ponytail flailing behind her. She sniffs back the beginning of tears and nods.

"Yeah?" he asks, giving her a long look to determine if she can do this or if she needs to tap out and call for someone else.

"Yeah," she nods. She's not her usual self, but even on an off day, she's more than strong enough to handle this. She snaps her gloves again and looks towards the wreckage--now complete with a third car in the pileup, "yeah."

"Okay," Gil whispers, following her lead as she runs to assist Kingo.

This time is at least better than last time.

The day hasn't been too bad. Thena's part way through a 24 hour shift while he's at the tail end of an 18-er. They're stealing what little rest they can in an on-call room.

And he does mean rest. Thena was already asleep when he found her and he crawled into bed with her less than two hours ago. He dozed off for a little bit and now he's just watching her.

She is so beautiful.

She doesn't wear makeup, because why would she in this line of work? Maybe she has mascara or something, but he's pretty sure that's just how lovely she is, all on her own. Her skin is flushed from sleep, and the hair curtained around her cheeks is mussed from tossing and turning.

How he loves her.

Thena turns over from being the little spoon. She always turns over so violently in her sleep--she doesn't just roll over, she turns and jerks and kicks. It's cute, though.

Gil rubs her back as she snuggles into him. This is an old song and dance for them, now. He sighs as he smells vanilla. She's using a new shampoo. She's been really into vanilla as of late.

"Gil," she sighs, but that doesn't mean she's awake.

He kisses her forehead, "honey?"

"Gil," she purrs again, stretching against him like a cat and pushing her nose into his shoulder. She giggles a little.

God, she'll be the death of him. He tickles her cheek with the back of his finger, "you awake, sweetie?"

"Hm," she groans, and that's Thena awake. She would never willingly be so adorable when she's conscious enough to feel embarrassed. "How long?"

He looks at his watch, "three-ish?--maybe four?"

"Not bad," she grumbles, going limp again after her stretching. She yawns against his shirt, and the heat of her breath makes the rest of him shiver. Her hand grasps at his hoodie, pulling it more over her. "You?"

"Maybe an hour or two," he whispers, pulling her closer and letting her steal all of his warmth that she wants.

She sighs, finally looking up at him. She blinks slowly, because everything about her is lazy and reluctant when she first wakes up in the morning.

She kisses him first this time. But he's all too happy to kiss her back, lips meeting lips in the silent on-call room. He can still hear the bustle of the of the hospital outside, but in here, it's just him and Thena.

Thena whimpers as he kisses her a little more firmly. "There's no time."

"I know," he whispers back. It doesn't stop him.

She doesn't stop either, letting her tongue slide against his, morning breath aside. Her hand tangles into his and she arches her back slightly, knocking her dainty little shoulder against his meaty one.

"Thena," he whispers, and it comes out a little rough. His watch beeps and she rolls her eyes. "I told you there was no time."

"Fine, go," she flops onto the on-call bed again as if he's dropped her from six feet up.

He chuckles, kissing the corner of her lips, "sorry, sweetheart. Next time."

"Hm," she crosses her arms at him as he climbs over her to get out of bed. She rolls over into his spot, "leave the hoodie."

"And where is yours?" he asks, even as he's pulling off his work hoodie to leave it for her.

"At home," she answers shamelessly, even reaching out for the garment with grabby fingers.

Gil does her one better, laying it over her preciously and leaning down to kiss her cheek, "fine, but I only get so many of these, y'know."

"Hm," she doesn't reply, inhaling as she pulls the hood up to her chin, "go, you're needed."

He chuckles on his way out the door, "I'm gonna get jealous of that thing."

"Don't," she at least looks at him before he leaves, "it's not as warm as you."

Maybe he should just give up.

He's not some pining schoolboy, desperate to hold her hand in the hallway. He likes what they have, and he liked it even before the sex. She will always be enough for him.

He catches the increasingly familiar scent of vanilla as she sits down with her coffee. He looks at her, a pen behind her ear and vanilla latte in her hand and crumbs of power bar on her lip.

She doesn't even blink as he wipes her crumbs away for her, "thanks."

"You're off in 10, right?" he guesses, still taking her in carefully as she flips through charts.

"Mmhm," she confirms as she scribbles a truly horrendous signature on paper after paper. "You?"

"Same," he confirms. He tilts his head to look at her better, "vanilla again?"

"Hm," she brings the cup up to her lips. She's barely listening.

"You really like it suddenly, huh?"

"Well, you said-"

He looks at her more closely, and now she's aware of what she's said. She's aware of her mistake. He leans closer, and she looks away from him more. "I said what?"

"Nothing," she mumbles, trying to bury herself between the pages of charts.

"Nu-uh," he chuckles, even pulling the completed charts away from her. He tilts his head further down, catching her trying to avoid his eyes. "What did I say?"

She fidgets a little now that her hands are bereft of distraction. "You just...mentioned that you like it, is all."

He doesn't even remember it, he must have said it so casually, just in passing. He grins, "the vanilla lattes, the shampoo--the candle at your place?"

She huffs, obviously embarrassed, "and? I happen to like it too!"

Gil's smile continues to grow, which he knows isn't helping her feel less embarrassed. But he adores her--he loves this woman so much. He leans in, kissing her cheek, "aw, honey."

Thena squirms, pushing his face away from hers as colour rises in her cheeks, "ugh, it's not a big deal."

Gil lets her press her fingers to his lips, because even that's still a kiss. His heart is skipping around happily in his chest and he realises now is the time. "Hey."

She peeks at him anxiously, still blushing faintly, "hm?"

"I'm off," he begins and she nods at the obvious being pointed out. He gestures, "you're off."

She nods, still not getting it.

"You wanna...?"

She tilts her head at him, "get...food? My place or yours?"

He leans closer, and he catches that look she gets sometimes when he leans in close but doesn't do anything more. She looks flustered. "I was thinking...out."

"Out?"

"Out."

"Like," she blinks and looks away from him again, not that there's anywhere to go with them just sitting on a gurney parked by the elevators. "Go...out?"

He can lead his Thena to water, but he can't make her say it. He pulls her hand into his, clasping their fingers together, "like a date. What do you say?"

He asks it gently, and if she says no, he'll let it go completely. He'll never bring it up again. He might need a few days to lie around his apartment and listen to breakup ballads, but he'll never bring it up again.

Thena looks down at their hands, that lovely rouge coming back to her cheeks. She nods, and if he weren't watching her so closely, he might miss it. She swallows, "okay."

"Yeah?" he asks, and the Goddess of War refuses to meet his eye as she nods again, more clearly this time. "Dinner?"

She nods again, letting go of his hand and standing off the gurney. "I, uh, I'll need to-"

He just stares with a dumb grin as her hands flutter around her. He's pretty sure she means she has to get ready, although he'd be happy to go to a five star restaurant with her in scrubs. "Sure--I'll pick you up at home?"

She nods, holding her charts desperately as she makes it partway down the hall. "Right."

"Half an hour?" he suggests, enamoured with the sight of her nearly tripping as she finally turns away from him.

"An hour!"

She doesn't need all that time, but he supposes he can go home and shower and shave, throw on some cologne. Maybe he can pick up some flowers for her on his way. She likes roses.

Sixth time's the charm.

[bugmistake]

mutuals download seek the app seek and come over and walk around and identify plants and bugs and fungi with me. the app can identify birds and other animals too but they're a little harder to identify cuz you have to get kind of close and get a good angle for the app to identify it. and if you get too close to, say, a cardinal, it's gonna fly away and you won't be able to get a good enough picture of it. but we should walk around. and look at mostly plants. and also get merlin and we can identify bird calls. while we're at it.

[swagging-back-to]

i will never apologize bc cast irons are GENUINELY FUCKING DISGUSTING. yall are fucking GROSS

"oh nonmnonono dont use soap dont wash it dont wash it omg dont literally get the bacteria off you have to leave it on for flavor"

do you hear yourself. you are so gross. i am forever judging you. all of you. fucking NASTY.

[bixy]

Honestly just the amount of comments white people say about any Asian food throughout my life I get SO irritated when I hear it now

[cyarsk52-20]

[blunderpuff]

put on tshirt after doing yardwork (cuz i got hot) and my mom immediately commented "look at YOU in bArE aRmS"

so i put on my long shirt again

[abstractbabble]

Listen listen, that fucked up old man is decidedly kind of 🤨 in canon, I’m just proving the show right /j

Alex

buddy friend pal buddy buddy

he attempted mass genocide