#pls let me know if you need me to change anything

[melwsnt]

I KNOW IT WON’T WORK, DEAN WINCHESTER

summary. late night calls with the person you’re supposed to stay away from might not be the best idea, but it’s worked for you, so far.

‘Part of me wants you back but, I know it won’t work like that.’

a/n. here’s a cute but sad little short one, pls feel free to request anything I’m bored out my mind and have the worst writers block also pls interact with this x!

The first call was tough. He’d called about ten different times before you found the courage to answer him. The distance didn’t help, hearing his voice through the phone, knowing he wasn’t anywhere near you. Knowing he was probably just as sad, not sleeping, not thinking straight, going out of his mind. He knew there was no going back. You did too. It was just too difficult. Too dangerous, too crazy, it didn’t matter that it hurt. You both realized it was best to leave things behind. But he couldn’t help it. He had to hear your voice. He had to call. And you couldn’t help but answer every single time.

It could last 2 minutes. Just hearing your voice, asking how you were, and hang up. It was that simple, at first. Until it eventually turned to hours, hours of smiling everytime he heard your laugh after he said something sassy. Laughing after reminiscing about old jokes, old trips, old times. Forgetting about why you were on the phone in the first place, forgetting the hurt for just a minute. Dean wasn’t the sentimental type. He certainly wasn’t the ‘let my emotions out and tell people how i feel’ type, but when it came to you, he didn’t care. He told you, every single time. He hated it. That he couldn’t be close to you, and he knew he’d never be again. You were far away from him, from it, and you both knew it was for the best.

Sam had tried reasoning with him. Telling him that what he was doing was just hurt you, and himself more. But there was no point. Sam has tried talking to you too. You were more understanding, but still told him it was useless. You couldn’t just throw Dean out of your life knowing he needed you. Knowing that those calls were the reason he hadn’t gone insane yet. Sam ended up dropping it on your side. He hated it. Seeing you both so dependent on each other. But he also knew how much it helped Dean get through the day even though he knew he couldn’t have you and you weren’t his anymore. Sam tried to understand, he really did. But he couldn’t help just bringing it up sometimes to try and make Dean open his eyes on the situation. Which of course- ended up in fights, in Dean brushing him off and giving him the silent treatment

You’d be lying if you said this wasn’t hard. But you would also be lying if you said those late night calls weren’t your favorite time of the day. He would call before bed, sometimes while having dinner, sometimes when waking up, he knew you’d answer everytime no matter the hour. You were there. And though it was a bad idea, you’d be there, stuck, for awhile. Because you couldn’t just let it go. Maybe this was bad. Maybe it was the worst idea ever. Maybe you were both out of your damn minds. But being crazy and maybe a bit delusional was better than not being in each others lives at all.

So far, that was the way it worked for both of you. And you wouldn’t change it for the world.

[divya-effendi]

Divya's high-healed boots clicked against the concrete and asphalt as she crossed the street to Oliver's flat from where she'd parked. The elder witch was in the business of keeping powerful allies, and Oliver was no different. He'd had a long history with the Effendi coven, and now that she was their leader, the deitie's history continued with Divya. She knew she wouldn't have to knock as she neared his door, putting on a hint of a smile as he opened the door wide.

"You're adorable if you think the cold still bothers me, darling," she teased as she half-hugged the fellow, placing a half-hearted peck on his cheek. The other arm still held a well-decorated box, a velvet bow bouncing slightly as she adjusted its weight slightly. "Oliver, you do spoil me," she added as her hand gracefully lifted a flute of champagne from the tray. "I figured I might very well do the same," she teased, placing the medium-sized gift box on the dining room table beside them. "'tis the season for giving, and all that."

Closed Starter: @divya-effendi

Oliver hummed about, his feet gliding over the ground levitating just slightly off the ground, as he set up refreshments for his coming guest. As a deity he had no need to eat, but he delighted in sweets and snacks, and he felt it was rude to just have them come and work with no niceties especially this time of the year. A tray of cookies in an array of red, green, and white, hot chocolate in festive mugs, and flutes of champagne in case sweets weren't to her liking.

Oliver loved to collect anything that hummed with magic, perhaps tilting luck in his favor to find and collect them, he was like a magpie. Eventually he would pass them back on to whoever they truly belonged to- he thought of himself more like a way point for artifacts. And he kept the truly dangerous ones locked up tight under powerful barriers. Tragically as much as he loved magical times and artifacts he had no nose for figuring out what he did. He outsourced this task to powerful witches who could read just what they did and gauge how dangerous they were.

"Welcome! Come in from the cold! Please relax I have a wonderful spread of things that came in today for you to look at. I feel like most of them are trinkets but you're the expert." The deity ushered Divya in from outside offering a seat. "Make yourself at home."

[aromanticannibal]

izuku who doesn't remember or know kacchan is trans will always be so fucking funny to me. he just sees kacchan in pants/skirt (depending on transmasc/transfemcchan) in UA and he's like mm. anyways

[mcthmancometh]

baylor dawson 💋

💋: did you ever lock lips? did you want to?

“Me? I’m not exactly Baylor’s type,” August scoffs, arms crossed over his chest. It’s ostensibly the truth. Everyone knows Baylor is a ladies’ man, often to great success. He goes after girls who are gorgeous, and popular, who will make a pretty trophy to brag about to his friends so he can move onto the next one, and August is exactly none of those things. But, well, the thing is—

It went a little something like this.

Almost exactly a year ago. Baylor, home for winter break, throwing the rager to end all ragers to celebrate his homecoming, the first Baylor Dawson Extravaganza Misty Mountain had seen in months. August, desperately searching for some sense of normalcy in a life that only seemed to be getting more turbulent by the day, somehow ending up there even though the two girls who used to drag him to those sorts of things weren’t exactly around to do it anymore (one of them being dead and the other acting like August went and died along with her). It was a shitty, stupid idea, and August spent the better part of two hours getting progressively more drunk as he tried and failed to track down a single friendly face. He was just about to give up and head home when he went out the back door and practically tripped over the man of the hour himself, sitting on the back deck all on his lonesome.

What are you doing here? Baylor had asked, brow furrowed, but he sounded more confused than anything. His words were slurred and his blinks were slow.

August had frozen the second they made eye contact, going full deer-in-headlights, and when he did manage to find his voice again, the truth had tumbled out: Looking for a friend. But I don’t think she’s here. So I was just leaving.

And then Baylor had said, Want some of this? and offered out the joint in his hand. August had stared warily at it for a long minute, then, with no shortage of caution or trepidation, he’d made his way over and sat down. And, for the first time in their lives, August and Baylor had had an actual conversation.

Well — Baylor did most of the talking as they passed the joint back and forth. He went on and on about school and football and his issues with his parents and his insecurities and damn near verged on an existential crisis while August listened and wondered why the hell Baylor was telling him all of this and what the catch was.

You get it, though. Right? Baylor had finally asked.

Yeah, August had replied. Because weirdly, he did.

And then Baylor had kissed him.

And August had kissed back.

He has no idea how long that went on — it wasn’t exactly just a kiss, but it wasn’t exactly more than that, either — but then there was a loud crash from somewhere inside the house and they’d jerked apart and just kind of blinked at each other in startled confusion for a minute.

Baylor had gotten up and said, You should go. And he hadn’t sounded pissed, or sad, or — anything, really. Just kind of resigned. He went inside. August smoked a cigarette and then he went home.

He hasn’t seen Baylor more than in passing since then, the few unavoidable encounters passing with a subtle but intentional lack of eye contact from both parties. Baylor hadn’t gotten into any of the multitude of reasons August shouldn’t tell anyone about it, but he hadn’t had to — August had immediately added it to the pile of shit he fully intends on taking right to the grave. (And who the fuck would he even tell, anyways?)

“Besides,” he adds, “I doubt the guy even knows my name.” And that part, at least, is the complete and honest truth.

[sleepymarimo]

I'm so sad and tired of reading by accident people that don't tag their angst saying Toji would never forget his late wife and that his heart died with her. I only trust your writing about him, you're the best Toji writer! What do you think Toji would do if his s/o was feeling insecure about not being good enough compared to his late wife?

hello there anon! thank you so much for the praise, you’re too sweet 🙂‍↕️ i’m glad you like how I write for toji!

now onto your question…

I think it’s a little complicated in the sense that toji really needs time to understand how you feel and, more importantly, how to get you out of that headspace of insecurity.

this mostly applies to the earlier stages of the relationship when he’s still learning, still adjusting to sharing his life again. and, honestly, toji isn’t overly prone to reminiscing or thinking ahead- he lives in the moment, hence the gambling and looking for distractions.

he doesn’t mean to ever make you insecure, of course not, but hey, things happen.

now, toji is really good at telling when things are wrong, but horrible at picking apart why. he can tell you’re insecure or feeling upset the second you wake up. as soon as you breathe wrong, he can tell something is up.

unfortunately, he can’t bridge that gap regarding the cause. this is where time comes in, because he needs to learn to connect the dots. when he learns why you feel the way you do, he isn’t quite sure how to process it.

she’s always going to have a place in his life, whether you accept it or not, whether he accepts it or not.

but, the love he holds for you is in everything he does and might be easy to overlook depending on your love language.

he’s bad with words, maybe with gifts, but he never forgets your order at your favorite restaurant, never forgets to fluff the pillow the way you like it, never forgets to text you when you’re off work.

you’re a priority to him, you’re the now, and that won’t change.

ultimately, how he responds will depend on his partner. he’ll ask you how you feel, will bluntly bring up the fact that you’re acting off, and he’ll do what you need him to do (I believe he’ll benefit from a partner who is honest about what they need). as he did for megumi-mama, he’ll change for you. when he’s in love, he really only cares about your approval and, quite frankly, he doesn’t see an issue with it.

[renatusest]

@geidonteispostergirl

When she'd heard of a market, Cheryl thought of something simple like a farmer's market or small cluster of booths; however, instead the Opalarian market town was just that-- a bustling, overwhelming expanse of different businesses. The only thing she could compare it to was an outside mall, simply on a giant scale.

Cheryl wondered how anyone would build something like this, and just how big this island actually was, as she walked through the market town's streets. So many different people, so many things for sale that seemed right out of a fantasy movie or novel...

Yet, what soon caught Cheryl's immediate attention was another young woman, one that was, undeniably, gliding through the air effortlessly. The sight of someone flying in broad daylight was so much of a shock that Cheryl could only stop and stare, her eyes following the other person until she finally touched down to the ground. Cheryl blinked, even going so far as to pinch her own arm.

Somehow, it was all still reality.

Cheryl couldn't stop her curiosity from getting the better of her, and walked right up to the other woman (she wasn't that far away, after all). She didn't even try to be subtle.

"Did you just fly here? Seriously?"

[lunaetis]

▸▸ [ @elplus || starter call. ]

─「エデン」─  " doctor, i have a question. " the genuine curiosity presented in those aureate orbs of hers spelled how she indeed had something to ask him. something that apparently had been on her mind if a thick book about old myths from various cultures was any hint to this inquiry of hers. " why is it that whenever a sacrifice is needed, it's always a maiden ? is there a reason for it ? " what did one's virginity has to do with being suitable sacrifice ?

[foolhcrdvs]

who: connor + isa (@icesqueen) when: 11th january 2025 at 9:02am where: the kitchen status: closed

If there was one thing Connor knew well, it was the importance of fueling up before a strenuous workout. Sure, when his dieticians and coaches were hammering in the importance of eating a well balanced meal, he was sure that trekking through snow to look for his missing friends was the last thing they were thinking of. Nevertheless, he wasn't about to go out in the middle of nowhere on an empty stomach. That could only lead to disaster.

Three eggs were sizzling in the pan as he set to work making his protein shake. As he started scooping powder into the cup, he heard the kitchen door open behind him. "Hey, can you get the bread for me?" he called, not bothering to turn around. "I'll cook up an egg for you too, if ya want."

Connor screwed on the lid to his shaker and started working it in one hand as he turned around, expecting to see a friendly face holding out a loaf of bread for him. Instead, he saw one of the last people he expected to see. And now he had initiated a conversation with her. Fantastic.

[billieblackwclls]

day of the call, early night, their place. with ; gabriel gallo — @carrved

the door behind her just closes, shoes barely had the time to come off that she makes her presence known, bag falling into its usual spot, ready to go at a moment's notice. " question for you, lover. " no need of a hello to even confirm his own presence, the aura in the room enough for her to recognize when he is or isn't taking up a space he fills so well. there is a magnetism he commands anywhere he stands, slouches or lays. one that still leaves her impressed, no matter the years used to its orbit. the day had been long, evening longer. depending on his answer, the night could stretch the longest.

" actually, maybe a little game. guess who disrupted the middle of a settlement meeting ? " finding him on their couch, it's overly easy to walk a path behind it. easier to let her hands fall on his shoulders, trailing down his arms as she's leaning in, lips to his ear to whisper some more hints to guide him through a possible answer. " it was the weirdest phone call i've ever received, topping any of your drunken ones. " holed up in her office the whole day, she didn't have the time to assess the wide spread of this incident.

but she did not actually intend to play anything, honeyed demeanor and sultry voice contrasting the much more solemn subject of the inquiry. " i trust you did not, in fact, give out my personal number to one late giovanni moretti ? " of course, she would be upset if he had, death of a man aside. it made no sense for that line to ring at the time it did, much less who the speaker tried to impersonate, as he had been retrieved from the river mere days ago. she knows gabe to be far more intelligent than a lot of people make him, trusts he keeps her as an ace up his sleeve and not displayed into his casual hand. still, he is the fastest link to the late head moretti, it's more than fair of her to ask. she simply hopes she was not part of his gang leader's little black book.

[maricabrera]

WHO: @coltonatwater WHERE: The Side of the Road Somewhere

Mari had been on her way to pick Colton up- well, if you could call their little ritual picking him up. She usually drove to meet him, honking twice and then climbing into the passenger's seat of the old truck and allowing the blonde to drive from there. Which was the plan tonight for their dinner plans, except... well, except Mari was driving from one town over and if Mari was driving for more than five minutes there was more than likely going to be some kind of incident. Except, by the grace of the universe or someone, this incident wasn't her fault.

She'd been sitting at a red light when the car came up quickly behind her, swerving at the last minute and only clipping the back corner of her car, which caused her to panic and hit the gas. Luckily, Mari hadn't hit anyone else- just ran her car up onto a curb and hit a light pole. There was no driving it to Colton's, but there were also no injuries, which she was grateful for. But it did mean she was going to be incredibly late...

"Before you say anything, it's not my fault." She began, cutting off the man's greeting when he answered the phone. "But I'm gonna need you to come pick me up. Please." She added the word of gratitude a moment later. "And maybe bring a tow truck? Ol' Betty... she's..." Letting out a sigh, Mari turned to look at her truck, still pressed against the unmoving pole with the hood and grill crumpled around the metal. "She's in a state. I promise dinner after, on me. And dessert. And drinks. I'll even sing you a song." She mused. "I've already dropped you a pin for the location." Chewing on her lower lip, the brunette leaned back against the wrecked vehicle and let out a sigh. "I'm sorry. I can Uber home and we can reschedule if you want. I'm sure you're sick of playin' my knight in shining armor."

[fmdjace]

◤so what?

❝ people that soaks into heart what kind of person am i? am i a good person? or a bad person? @minjungfmd

​jihoon feels like he is holding onto every single thread of sanity he has left. he feels like a little kid being scolded, for something he isn't entirely aware of. he understands where minjung is coming from. he was a dick last time they spoke, but he was honest, as honest as he could be to salvage some of their friendship. if anything, jihoon thinks he did really good, compared to any previous discourses he's had, he is impressed that minjung had the guts to approach him in a public setting.

let alone to call him out for being as friendly and cheery as ever. maybe if she looked a bit fucking deeper, she would notice that wasn't the case. maybe he should have bared his teeth more, scared her off and make her leave him to wallow in self pity. just like she did about juyeon, maybe even worse than that.. oh, it was definitely worse than that. they've had plenty of friendly interactions through the event, he was being as civil as civil could get. so he doesn't understand why minjung expect him to tear into her in a public setting with cameras and people lingering at every corner?

he is chewing on his lips as he listens to her, eyes scanning the perimeter every few seconds because he feels the need to get out. he doesn't care how disrespectful it is, he wants out.

"if you would like to lecture me on being civil in a public setting, pass the feedback onto my manager." jihoon finally spits out, after noticing the silence between them had gotten ever so slightly suffocating. "or maybe, you should take a hint and act the same, stop harassing me in public about doing my job at keeping our images in tact." the words come in the same tone and urgency, a bit through gritted teeth because the male thinks he might explode if minjung pushed anymore. asked anymore.

[angclnumber]

CLOSED STARTER FOR: @fruitpoem ! BASED ON: this plot !

"I JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT THE FUCK you're doing with them ." dawn's nose wrinkles with the words, her brow arching as she looks them over . "with the fancy fucking tesla and daddy's trustfund and — those stupid boat shoes ?" the disgust on their face is apparent for a few moments even through their frustration . "we literally make fun of people like that and now you're —" dawn fumbles for words . "what, into it or something ? "

[clemencetaught]

"Thank you so much for introducing me into your busy schedule," Hermes says and he's oh so very polite, epitome of status and class, of the Capitol, complete with something less polite glistening in his eyes, making his stare resemble the kind worn by someone curiously waiting to see whether the distracted mouse will see the lurking cat in time. He comes up around Patrick, offering his hands. "Let me take your coat, hm? Care for a drink?" ((btw if Patrick is more of a jacket kinda peep here pretend it says jacket >:3333333)) || a year late but here we are ( unprompted w/ @mythvoiced )

One would think at his age, the stream of clients on his end would be slowing down by now. The copious amounts of surgeries and skin care routines Capitolites undergo would indict so– he’s already past his prime and with the pool of victors always growing larger and larger each year, he would assume the Capitol’s attention on him would fade. The Capitolites are like crows in that respect, eyes drawn to what is shiny and what is new, their attention spans that of goldfishes.

One would think then, that he’d be discarded by now, being OLD now and therefore in the Capitol’s eyes, as good as dead.

“But of course,” Patrick says astutely, flinching when he realizes the client has managed to sneak behind him. Well that’s new– most clients wait for him in their bedrooms. Most clients would have their avoxes let him in, the task of welcoming a guest apparently too arduous for those of their class. And most clients wouldn’t offer to take coats either. Perhaps this one was raised with a military background of sorts.  “Your father has a great deal of connections to the games and President Snow certainly didn’t want to disappoint his son. You know our president holds the games to the highest esteem.”

The coat stays on for a moment longer. He tries to savor it, his armor, as he looks around the foyer. It’s ornate, just like all the ones that came before. And all the ones that will come afterwards– at some point when you’ve seen one interior of a mansion, you’ve seen it all. The heirs of the elite aren’t much better and with the way his newest client looks at him, like he’s supposed to provide some sort of entertainment at the moment, Patrick can only bite back a sigh. Only three hours, Patrick tells himself. Slowly, he forces a smile. Three hours and then he can get on a train and go back home. Back to Sun. 

“It would be my pleasure,” Patrick says, finally offering Mister Hermes his coat. His stomach turns. “I suppose we all need a drink before the main event, hm? And a chance for me to get to know you, my dear.”

[requiemofrebellion]

@multianime - starter

A soft sigh left the blue haired male as he slowly stood up from the ground. His body was a bit sore from the training he was trying to do on his own before he had to reluctantly go home. Nagisa gathered up his things around the forest before heading out and back towards the class E building. He was sure a lot of the students had gone home by now. He wondered if the teachers even went home, knowing Koro-sensei though he was probably off across the planet to attend something. So, Nagisa didn’t think there was much use to check inside the building to say his final goodbyes until he saw them tomorrow. So, he turned away from the building, ready to head out towards the main campus when his eyes laid on a familiar redhead. 

“ Karma? ” At first it was a question, before a smile formed on his lips and he started up a walk to get closer to his friend. “ Hey, Karma. I didn’t think you’d still be around after school, what are you doing? ”

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[hidesinhisarchived]

@courtesons asked: “ look at me." [from or to mark / your muse choice]

mark's heart skipped a couple of beats as owen's fingers firmly grasped his chin, forcing the filmmaker to look at him. he wasn't even sure how he'd ended up in this situation. the original job had been simple: take footage to be used in promotional materials for owen's new club. not quite his usual thing, but mark had needed the money and had happily gone along with it. things had gone smoothly up until now where a couple of drinks in during a conversation had brought forth a bit of a rant and a confession of attraction to the older man.

his heart was now pounding so loudly that he wouldn't be surprised if owen could hear it. mark was unable to pull his gaze away as color flooded his cheeks. his fingers absently fiddled with the hem of his sweater as he scrambled for the ability to speak again. "i-i'm sorry. that was...that was incredibly inappropriate of me. i'm sorry."