#ray drabbles

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

have to touch myself to pretend you're there.

[graphx]

THEIR PARALLELS MAKE ME SO ILL

Both of them feeling helpless due to leg injuries

Both of them lying to the people they trust and love the most for the greater good

BOTH OF THEM GOING UP AGAINST LEUVIS WITH AN AXE AND NO HESITATION!!

HELPING HIM ACROSS THE POND AND HOLDING HIS CANE WHILE HE GETS DOWN THE LADDER???!!! They are so wholesome!!!

This moment is also very funny to me since Ray is never directly told Yuugo’s name I imagine during the two week walk back to the bunker Lucas accidentally slips and tells Ray (and apologizes cuz he assumed he wanted to be told like Emma) and Ray is just like

no

give me more blackmail against him

which i assume this scene came from Ray snitching

I know Ray and Yuugo parallels are more obvious but I would have loved for Lucas’s relationships with Emma and Ray to be expanded on as well since I don’t see it as much!

[ghuoab]

“unrequited love is the infinite curse of a lonely heart.” 🦢

theme: married!abby x mistress!reader

tags: unrequited love, (sort of) angst, one-sided love, playing with the heart, friends with benefits (?), narrow-mindedness

p.s to all readers!!: abby is mostly fem representing, but i of course didn’t take her character away from her. please let me know if you like it!

summary: abby is married to a catholic man for years now. after being neighbors for a long time, you decide to put all of your uncertainties aside to meet the woman who you’ve been crushing on for a while now formally. after finally talking to her, you realized how much she’s been yearning for a ‘someone’. will you fill that hole her husband never did?

"Bags by Clairo" // 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋🎧ྀི

00:57 ━━━━●───── 04:21

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ↻ ♡

you’ve only seen her a few times strolling around town in her pretty skirts. she always has those frilly ones on, ones which were out of style by decades by now. she has the prettiest freckles that compliment her skin, sun kisses on her arms and face. although she couldn’t wear many patterns because of it, she still wore them beautifully. she didn’t care what the women of the neighborhood had to say about her.

she was graceful. down to her outfits, the way she walked and talked, even down to the delicious meals you smelled wafting through her chimney on a late afternoon. she was peaceful, her expression never stressful, and her attitude was never out of place. just to see her made your heart skip a beat. her lips were pink and rosy, and you found yourself wondering if it was the smudged lipstick she wore. her eyes were a beautiful light blue, always observing. she always watched people, but had enough time and thoughts to talk as well. you didnt know if you wanted her, to wanted to be her. she was pretty much perfect.

you met her officially, (not including the times where you stalked her while she was minding her business), at a diner. she was sat alone, for some reason, and you were sat in a booth in front of her. after her recognizing you, she called your name with a small smile on her lips.

“y/n,” she spoke, a soft smile appearing on her pretty lips. you found yourself staring at her face, how well her braid always framed her face well.

“abby,” you greeted back, almost breathing it out in a sigh. the blush on your cheeks tattled on you before you could begin to think about something to say.

“you okay?” she asked her. “why don’t you come sit with me? my husband’s away,” she told you, that damned smile still on her lips. didn’t her cheeks hurt already?

you found yourself staring back at her, like a ‘deer in headlights’ look. after a few moments of silence, you cleared your throat and got up from your booth to sit across from her. your mind was reeling, posing questions. why was she here alone? more importantly, why did she feel the need to mention her husband not being here?

as you sat down in the seat across from her, she had a warm cup of coffee in front of her. she had a notepad in front of her, and she was writing something before you had arrived. when she noticed you looking at her hands, she spoke up.

“ah… i was jus’ jotting a few things down,” she drawled in a soft tone, “helps me get through the day by clearing my thoughts.” she explained. you nodded feverishly, clutching the little handbag you thought fit with your outfit. not that you were staring at the notepad at all, rather how pretty rough her hands looked. you knew why, too.

“ah… okay,” you nodded timidly. she saw how you were quiet, and she sighed. “no need to be nervous. i’ve seen you before,” she smiled. it didnt relieve the tension very well. you sat there quietly, your eyes in your lap. “not exactly nervous. i don’t prefer to talk much,” you admitted with a chuckle, your eyes on the handbag in your lap under the table.

“you won’t ever get a husband looking down like tha’,” she hummed, sipping her cup of coffee. “gotta open up. hm?” she said, waiting for a response. “oh. um… sure,” you nodded. “of course.”

you didn’t have the heart to tell her you liked girls. it wasn’t ideal in this day and age, and was rather looked down upon because of whom you lived around, and the town you live in. you didn’t want to seem weak- or weaker than you already looked. you also were a bit scared of her, considering how many crosses she has put up in inside and outside her home. maybe she would judge you, condemn whatever personal preferences you have, and spread rumors about the girl living alone with her ditzy orange cat. you didn’t know her that well yet. also, her family home has a whole fitness room. you’ve seen it. she’s there for a few hours every day, and how one day you stared at her through your window, and got so lost in your thoughts you began fantasizing about her for days. you didn’t want to admit that, but you were mostly afraid if she could beat you up bloody in cases of disagreements.

you cleared your throat. she hummed, brushing loose strands from her golden hair behind her ears. the sunny day casted a beautiful glow to her eyes and hair, and she truly looked like a doll. you didn’t know if you felt envy for her, on how perfect she looked and how perfect her life was set already, or if you were glad she had it going good.

for the remainder of the time, she tried to make light conversation with you. it was awkward, sure, but you learned more about her. how she’s a big volunteer of the church her husband goes to, how much she loves to garden, cook, and bake. despite that, her husband’s extremely rich and well known, and is only waiting for a kid to fulfill his manly duties. she was the first one to admit her own secrets, and that she had her tubes tied long before she met her husband.

you were walked home by her, too, after she paid for your waffle for breakfast. you were dropped off at your house with a soft smile on your face, a satisfied hunger, and the reassurance that she doesn’t hate your guts. she even offered to invite you over for dinner on sunday. of course, you agreed, and promised to bring something in return.

you officially hit the ‘friend’ zone after you two parted ways. you felt so excited and proud of yourself, really, for finally talking to someone. it was always a challenge to, because of how timid and anti-social you were. it had been a while since you had a eventful day like today.

the next two days were pretty easy going. groceries weren’t too expensive, and you even had enough money saved this week to buy a small bottle of wine for the dinner you two had planned… you three.

sunday afternoon you picked out the prettiest dress you had, making sure you didn’t wear it these past couple of weeks to make a good impression on her. them, you meant.

you personally picked a white polka dot dress with a black belt around your waist, and a pretty pair of black low kittie heels. after all, it was rude to tower over the person whom invited you over.

you put on red lipstick, this time, since you knew you would see her. them- again. you made sure your hair was perfect, even making sure to put on a pair of black laced bra and panties. you didn’t know what for, but you wanted to be prepared. not fully, you suppose, since you didn’t exactly have much time to shave downstairs all cutesy.

you walked up to her doorstep with a small smile on your lips, a wine bottle in hand as you knocked on their door. their home had crosses hung up, and your eyes fell on her once she opened the door.

“um— hi!” you said first, a small smile on your pretty red lips. she could tell you were a bit excited, her eyes slooowly raking over your body, making sure to not miss any details. you felt your thighs close once she looked back up at your face. you then took the time to really notice what she was wearing. she was actually wearing a light blue shirt with a patterned white and cream skirt. it truly looked beautiful on her, especially with the blue belt and gold belt buckle combination. her outfit looked beautiful, especially styling it with her blonde hair and light blue eyes. you smiled up at her, beginning to calm down.

“it’s so nice to see you, vee. you look so beautiful, she complimented, and you smiled. “thank you,” you said in return, “you look absolutely stunning as well.” she smiled back at you for the first time since that diner. “cmon in. i’ve just finished cooking,” she said, making you follow her. she stepped back with you, her warm palm on the small of your back, her thumb tracing your small arch before letting go.

you were glad you brought the wine after that. you set it down in the middle of the table, noticing how it was only two plates. “abby, right?” you looked up at her. she was still washing dishes. “yes?” she asked. “where is… your husband?” you asked her, sitting down on your side of the wooden table. she came over to you and set down a plate of food, which looked absolutely delicious. it was a simple plate of salmon, perfectly cooked, and vegetables with a bit of mashed potatoes. so she was a good cook.

“he’s not here tonight. he has a event in the church,” she explained as she looked at you. “oh, okay. that’s nice,” you smiled. great. you felt thankful it was only you two, honestly. it was better off that way, especially to start a friendship…. maybe something more than that. as the two of you sat down for your meals, she picked up her fork and began to dig in. you did as well. after a few moments, you wondered why she didn’t pray before her meal. after all, aren’t the married couple religious?

she dug into her meal, and so did you. it was actually amazing, and well made. you found yourself eating slowly, to savor the flavor and the spices she put in the meal, bringing it to your lips and licking off the salmon from your fork. you looked at her for a moment, and she was staring at you eat. her eyes were on your red lips, watching you eat the vegetables, too, like it was amusing to her. you certainly did notice the way she stared at your breasts peeking out from your dress. you felt yourself getting flustered and nervous again. she smiled subtly and looked down at her food again.

“the food is really good,” you said to her, enjoying your last few bites of it as you made eye contact with her. your plate was cleared before hers was, and you cleaned your face for any crumbs or smudges. she let out a low hum, not speaking for a few moments.

“thank you,” she said, finally finishing her meal. she made eye contact with you. “i actually bought a cookbook. this was a new recipe,” she smiled, “did you notice the lemon hints?” she asked her. you smiled and chuckled. “of course. it was amazing, the balance between citrus and garlic,” you complimented, and she smiled in pride. it seems like she takes it serious.

“i saw you bring wine. should we unwind and drink some on the sofa?” she asked you, standing up before you could answer. “of course. do you like pinot noir?” you asked, standing up with her to gather the dishes and wash them. she grabbed the bottle of pinot noir, running her fingers across the bottle before grabbing a glass. “no surprise. that i do. it’s a classic,” she smiled. it was up until that moment you realized you made a grave mistake.

“i don’t mean to intrude at all,” you began, “but i just wanted to make sure you can drink, and all. i’m not too familiar with the christian church, and…” you trailed off. you chuckled softly, wondering if you were making a fool out of yourself. you looked her way, wiping your hands dry after you washed the dishes. wasn’t she christian? or catholic, judging by the amount of crosses put up in her home?

“i can drink,” she explained, her eyes raking over you. “my husband is the religious one. he’s catholic,” she explained, “that’s why he’s usually out all day.” a small smile appeared on her lips. “just don’t tell him, okay? he’s very strict with drinking,” she giggled, popping the bottle open and pouring herself a hefty glass of wine. you too got a glass of wine, and giggled happily with her. the two of you walked over to the couch and threw yourselves on it, kicking your heels off and facing her as the two of you winded down.

not that you both realized it, but you both talked your heads off for a hour or two together. the time slowly turned from 6:30, to 7:00, 8:00, and talking about the stupidest things together. but it was actually fun. the skies were black outside, and the stars already began to come out of their hiding places, after the sun had set. you two were both tipsy, a bit drunk, but you both knew what you were doing. especially after talking about some of the scandals of the neighborhood.

the wine made her ease up a bit. she became more open about her feelings. she had a lot to say about your other neighbor, mrs.drisall, whom had quite a pair of chirpy parrots and a old, whiny dog.

she took a small sip of wine, finishing off her third glass of the night before taking a few gulps of water. you smiled, letting out a small laugh. you were on your fourth glass, and you couldn’t control yourself.

“you alright?” you asked her, and she was staring at you before you knew it. she sighed, maintaining eye contact. you two were close enough on the couch, and you both laid your head down on the couch’s cushion.

“y/n,” she spoke up, finding her voice before you did. you set down your glass and waited for her to speak. “you’re gorgeous. i don’t know how you don’t have a husband already,” she sighed softly, looking at you. you smiled.

“i don’t prefer men,” you said softly, almost incoherent. you bit the inside of your lip, almost regretting revealing it so early on. nevertheless, she admitted a few secrets of her own already. after ripping the band-aid off, you sat there waiting for her to respond. the anticipation was killing you.

she stared at you for a moment, and let out a small sigh. she tutted, looking at you. “that’s a shame. you’re a stunner, and you have the hips to have a baby,” she explained, which made you feel a certain way. you subtly frowned at the comment, which is the same one you’ve heard for years, but it still makes you upset. she notices it, and how you shift away from her. “well, at least i have hips for something else,” you chuckled, trying to shove down how you really felt.

she immediately noticed your change in demeanor. she lifted her head from the couch cushion and her eyes opened a bit. “gosh. i’m so sorry,” she began, putting her hand on top of yours. “i didn’t mean to be so blunt. to say that, i mean,” she explained, sighing snd shaking her head. “shouldn’t have said that. i hate it when people say that to me,” she sighed. “pleease forgive me?” she looked at you, drawling it out a bit to make heart of her mistake. you smiled a bit, looking at her. you rolled your eyes. “fine. can’t be mad at a face like that,” you mumbled, cant helping but to flirt with her. she caught onto it, too, and you noticed the pink flush on her cheeks.

she slowly sat right up against you, turning to you and kissing the back of your hand. you felt your thighs subtly clench together, and you wished you had brought a second pair of panties.

she stared at you with those eyes, and she knew what she was doing. those eyes that held a yearning look to them, ones that you got lost in so easily. you stared back, putting down your glass of wine. she picked up one of your free hands, gently kissing the back of it. you watched her in amusement, giggling a bit, and watched as she slowly kissed the inside of your palm. you stopped laughing after a few moments, noticing how intimate her actions really were. her eyelashes touched the freckles on her cheeks, and she sort of looked up at you.

“abby,” you broke the silence. she was staring at you, her lips still making contact with your hand, going the extra mile to hold your other hand. your breath hitched, your eyes fluttering for a moment. “abby,” you said her name again, stretching your hands in hers. it was only then when she stopped, holding both of your hands in hers. you stared at her, swallowing. waiting for her to say something.

“i know i’m married,” she began. “but my husband doesn’t care about me. at all. he barely comes home because he’s sleeping with another…” she trailed off, looking away. you continued to look at her. she sighed, sitting up straight. she was clearly hurt inside, and just wanted an escape. you hesitated, and she pulled away from you. “i’m sorry,” she said.

you felt a pang of empathy for her. it must be hard, keeping a facade like that. you would know how hard it is, too. especially with the god forsaken town, and with the church people her husband works with, the people he tries to please so hard that he’s forgot about his own wife’s needs. you thought about it for a moment, slowly moving closer.

“i’m sorry about that,” you said softly, grabbing her hand slowly and kissing the back of her hand. now it was your turn. she looked at you for a moment, and she looked into your eyes. it was clear the still had a lot on her mind, even with a few glasses of wine in her system. her eyes averted away from you, but you took it upon yourself to finally make a move.

you held her hand in yours and leaned forward, looking at her in her eyes. the two of you sat there together, for a few moments, letting the weight of the situation sit on your shoulders. you slowly came closer to her, tilting your head slightly to the right and pressing a light kiss on her lips.

her lips were actually soft like you had imagined. her lips were flush against yours, your dreams finally coming through. her fingertips ghosting around your arms… where are her fingertips?

the kiss lasted for a few seconds before her hands grabbed your arms. she pushed you away from her, and she cleared her throat quietly. you felt a sense of dread wash over yourself, and you felt humiliated. embarrassed.

“shit, i…” she began, her hands on your arms for a few moments. she let go of you completely and looked away from you, and you looked away from her too. the weight of the situation was heavy, the tension in the air so thick you couldn’t even cut it.

you sighed shakily, feeling your eyes suddenly ache. your vision slowly began to fog up, and you tried blinking it away but to no avail. you suddenly got choked up, and you noticed her looking at you. you avoided her gaze, and her entirely.

“i- i have to go,” you said, leaving no room for explanation at all. you quickly sat up, slipping on your heels and standing up to run away. she stood up, as well, calling your name. the name you gave her. “y/n,” she called out softly. she followed you to the door as you rushed for it.”y/n!” she called again, trying to catch up to you. by the time she did, you were outside of her family home. the moment the cold night air hit your face, the tears finally fell from your eyes and onto your cheeks.

you left her home that night, and you only hoped that your lipstick was on her lips still.

(pt. 2?)

[marshmallowprotection]

“Hey, Saeran?” 

"Yes? What is it, my love?"

As you shut off the television and turned away from the news, there was a sense of anxiety and worry that wouldn't go away even as the monitor went dark. That undying intrusive thought that told you how horrible things would become in a matter of hours, if not days, reared its ugly head again. You didn't want to feel that way, nor did you want to let the sensation of despair take away the last shred of your sanity, but the more you sat with those fears, the more terror you felt.

Cradling your pillow close to your chest, you asked, "How did you find a reason to hope when everything else said otherwise?"

You couldn't help but feel curious about what he might say about it. Mint Eye gave him every reason to despair, to give up on himself, and yet, he didn't. Despite everything they threw at him, he continued the arduous journey of living in a false paradise that intended to get rid of him one day when most people in his shoes would've surrendered to the agony to escape their suffering.

On the surface, you understood the concept of Saeran's feelings. The way he must've felt when he knew he had to adapt to survive a living hell, and how heavy the burden it became when it shattered his heart to ribbons. He... didn't have another choice when Rika took him from the cathedral she found him in. If he didn't submit to her whims, he'd never see the sunrise or sunset again.

He survived purely on dumb luck, and because he fought for so long to make her think he believed her lies when he couldn't tell left from right. You knew when people were faced with no other choice but to do whatever they could to survive, they would, and they would try to do everything within their power to make do.

Saeyoung had done the same thing, actually. He made the best of his own nightmare within those hellish agency walls. The RFA became a place for him to breathe far away from those who dared to make him live with a target on his back, but it wasn't true freedom from the fear he'd known since he and his brother were little boys.

Luck was what helped those boys survive everything they suffered as boys and young adults, and as happy as you were to be with them on the other side of that pain, you wondered how they found hope in all of it. You knew they had no choice and they did the best they could in a horrible situation, just as anyone would, but how did the hope they experienced feel on a personal level?

What did Saeyoung use to feel hopeful when he couldn't focus on the promise Rika and V made him? What hope did Ray or Saeran find in a cesspool of torment that lied to them to see the next day? Even if you had a rough notion of their feelings, your queasy stomach couldn't do the same for your own nerves.

The kind of hope you wished you could find again... the hope that saw them through their worst nightmare. You wanted to find that hope for yourself again.

In all honesty, you weren't all that different from them.

You had no choice but to find hope in whatever place you could when you were younger, and you managed to scrape by with whatever you could find, even if it felt like you were grasping at breadcrumbs for a taste of something sweet and warm to stave off the misery.

It worked for a while, and you believed in your heart that things would someday become better and the memories of the bitter past would fade away... like footprints in the sand.

But, something changed since those years you felt like you could hope for the better, and that something chipped away at what you wanted to believe in. Life wasn't a fairytale, and things couldn't be neatly contained with a bow and ribbon. Granted, that didn't mean you had nothing to hope, dream, or look forward to. There were so many things in this world you were happy to see on the horizon, yet, plenty more that left you feeling hopeless at the same time.

You weren't sure there was a perfect answer to your question, but you knew Saeran would try his best to find one to ease your heart.

Taking the spot at your side, Saeran wrapped his blanket around your shoulders so you could curl into him. "If you would've asked Ray this question, he would've told you that you were his hope, or rather, the idea of you gave him hope. Rika promised him that you would be his after you tested the messenger and he would never have to hack or hurt people ever again. His hope... was built off a fantasy he built for himself. If he doubted himself, he imagined being close to you to see himself to the next day."

You knew Ray had preconceived notions of you before you met, but only when he realized you were more than his daydream did he truly start to fall in love with you, and you with him in return. He survived that terrible place because he could dream of you and a future filled with peace... even if he knew it had every chance to backfire.

"Saeran, on the other hand, would've told you that he didn't have any hope left to spare. He had to give all of his hopes and dreams to Ray because Rika told him he was a weapon and a weapon alone. Ray could dream, and that's why he struck out against you so hard in the beginning. If Ray couldn't be hopeful, neither could he. Yet, he realized he still had hopes and dreams when he was with you, and he knew if he was honest with himself, Rika would hurt him like she hurt his Ray."

Saeran, ever the strongest because he had no choice, wanted to be with you as much as you wanted to be with him, but he largely had no choice but to play along with Rika's games. He couldn't deny his heart any more than Ray could, and it nearly cost them their lives at Rika's hand.

They never abandoned hope despite everything pleading with them to let go.

You sought out his hand and held it close to your heart. You wanted him to feel it. "And, you? What about you, my love?"

"I've realized that... Hope isn't something we find in one person, it's not found in some outstanding fantasy, either. Hope is what we find in the little moments that make life feel worth it. When you smile at me from the other side of the room, when we can go on a date and see a film together at the movies, when you bring me a drink while I'm knee-deep in the garden, and... the list goes on. Hope is something we can all experience if we choose to enjoy the little moments just as much as we indulge in the fantastical ones."

The little things, huh?

"I guess... I've been so focused on the big things that I've lost sight of the importance of moments like this," you looked down at your lap as his honesty washed over you. "It's overwhelming, Saeran. I want to be able to enjoy moments like this but it's difficult to breathe knowing... knowing how difficult things are going to become for everyone. I am aware of the fact that it's not wrong to take care of yourself before... before you take care of others, but right now, it feels like my hope is the last thing that anyone needs to worry about."

Saeran shook his head. "On the contrary, my love. Hope is what helps people in their darkest moments. Even if what they hope for sounds... I don't know, silly. You need to be able to hope for something—to feel like those little moments matter—otherwise you'll fall into despair. Do you remember how V and Rika were near the end? They both gave up on themselves, preferring to live in denial than face the truth. They said they had no hope left to spare, but that... that was because the two of them decided they didn't deserve it."

You hadn't thought about them in a while. But, Saeran wasn't wrong about them. You knew you were worthy of hope, just as much as any other person was, but that fear of not doing enough for others when you, yourself, needed to be taken care of, too, was what struck them in the foot. They'd deserved it but they ran away from outstretched hands until the very end when Saeran extended his instead.

You were scared, and by God, you were tired, too. You didn't want to run away but you didn't know how to handle any of the feelings that came with this dread.

"...Do you think I can find the strength to hope again, Saeran?"

"I know you will," he said in that earnest voice that made you fall in love with him in the first place. "Because I'll be right there with you every step of the way. Your hope is mine, and my hope is yours. We will see a brighter tomorrow, I have no doubt about that, but... we'll also see a bright day today, because hope exists for the present, too, just as much as the future."

[yuwuta]

peds surgeon yuuta??? u cant say things like that i need to jump. the cartoons, the glasses, of course his freaky ass would have a thing for u calling him doctor okkotsu i need to die id wanna tease him sm and be all over him but i cant think of anything if its in a hospital how did the greys anatomy ppl made it work?

the grey’s doctors were FREAKS LMFAOO bc there is not space to be doing all that in the on call rooms…. honestly yuuta is probably too busy to even try anything with you in the hospital 90% of the time… he’s either in surgery or buried in the research library or falling asleep standing up 😭 sometimes you two pass each other in an empty stairwell and have time for a kiss or two, but never more than that (also because yuuta has very little self-restraint when it comes to you… if he allowed himself more than that, then it would be much harder to stop…) 

sometimes the two of you will fall asleep in the same on call room. yuuta will page you there and by the time you arrive he’s already half asleep, it’s probably his only nap in the last 24 hours, so you do your best not to wake wake him when you cuddle up next to him. you get a few hours of bliss in his arms before his pager is waking the both of you up, and he’s got to scurry downstairs to the peds floor and in his hurry he doesn’t realize he’s snagged your lab coat instead of his own, and it’s only when he’s haphazardly slipped it on and the arms are too short and the shoulders are too tight that he figures it out. it’s too late by then, because gojo is the attending on this case which means he doesn’t miss anything, which means he’s the first to giggle and tease, poking at your name embroidered above the breast pocket, “oh? i didn’t know the two of you got married already! oh and you took her last name, how noble, yuuta!~” 

[heymrspatel]

(kid cudi voice) now look at this

AH-!

i am having such a strong reaction to this!! like that's the same lil guy! that's our guy! and i love him so damn much and he's my favorite silly billy and he's sweet and kind and loving and dopey and beautiful and strong and brave and courageous and the biggest brightest shining light!!!

that's our guy! and he was so so little and then he was not and he's still wearing the same clothes and i bet this was a hand-me-down to begin with and i bet it's so soft and comforting now. and he still latches on to it.

and the time passes. and he keeps going back to this shirt.

he grew up in it, he fell in love in it, his heart got broken in it, he met the love of his life at the docks in it. the cycle repeating itself and he still had this shirt. until things quieted down. he got married. they moved out. he settled into his life and his body and his threadbare beige shirt with the little buttons.

and now mickey wears it. he sticks his little hands out. sleeve paws for ian to giggle over. he's endeared by it.

his shirt that stuck around.

[hiskillingjar]

Yoo what if Lawrence x mc with a knife kink and they be fuckin... like lawrence learns of the knife kink

i'm in the mood to write some stuff for law. be prepared for that!

1200+ words, cw for self harm mentions, same MC as this fic

"It was my grandad's in Vietnam,"

It was late in the musky apartment, and you were a little high (as you so often were) when you pulled the pocket knife from your messenger bag, unfolding it and holding it out for Law to look at.

The blade was probably shiny once, but it had been spotted with brown rust since you'd been given it, and its hollow, wooden handle was on the verge of splintering (wrapped up with white, packing tape) and black with mould, showing its age, what it had seen, the life it had lived before it was put in your hands.

“Cool, right?” You then asked, holding the dirty blade against your palm.

Law lowered the joint from their lips, sleepy (dead) grey eyes blinking as they sat up and stared at the knife.

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling proudly at their somewhat impressed expression.

"I always carry it when I'm out," You explained nonchalantly, taking the burning joint as you passed them the knife, raising it to your lips for a slow drag, heat burning in your lungs as you quickly breathed out. You still weren’t very good at smoking weed, but you were getting better at it. "But I have more at my apartment, vintage ones, new ones. I collect them."

"You collect them?" They repeated, looking up at you with a raised brow. "That's probably-"

"Probably a little concerning, right?" You asked with a little titter, leaning back on the bed, spreading your legs lazily, your skirt hiking higher up your thighs, exposing dashed white scars under your fishnets. "Come on, don't play therapist with me, Law. It doesn't suit you."

"I was actually going to say it's probably a little stereotypical," They replied, a slight and uncharacteristic smirk on their lips. "You’re a trans girl obsessed with knives...that's kind of obvious, even for you, isn't it?"

You barked out a laugh, sitting up quickly (not closing your legs).

"Look at herrr though," You drawled through your giggles, pitching your voice up to the catty drawl you and your girlfriends sometimes spoke to each other in, taking the knife back when they held it out to you. "Clocking me for my phallic fixations. I didn’t know you had jokes, Law.” You grinned. “You're gonna have a field day when you show you my gun, aren't you?"

"You…really have a gun?" They asked after a moment, lowering their voice as they took the joint back for another drag. “Isn’t that illegal?”

They had the priorities sorted, it seemed.

"I mean, just one," You said with a shake of your head, watching as they breathed out a thick mouthful of smoke. "And it's, like...plugged up with so much junk that it doesn't work. It’s probably as legal as your joint," You gestured towards it and huffed out another little titter, feeling oddly defensive. “Like, I’m not gonna go flashing it to the cops, but I don’t think they’re gonna bust down my door for it.”

They nodded their head slowly, taking another drag of the joint.

You knew that they weren’t calling you out. They didn’t care about you owning weapons, just like you didn’t care about the dead animals they had rotting in barrels in the forest.

They were both parts of you that you didn’t make public to polite society but kept to yourselves and, occasionally, each other.

You knew how meaningful that was. And how important it was for you to have someone you could be authentic with.

You wondered…

"Sometimes…” You stared with a little sigh, slowly lowering the blade of the knife to your thigh, running it along one of your dashed, white scars. “I cut myself and I swear …I can feel the pain of everyone it's ever hurt inside of me. Like a pulsing heat."

You cut through one of the segments of your fishnets, exposing flesh and showing off your scars.

Law’s eyes glanced up lazily, just enough to make you feel desirable.

"You think it's hurt other people?" Law asked softly, lowering the burned-out joint to the ashtray at their bedside.

Figures, they wouldn't care about you hurting yourself, or give a second glance to your self-harm scars. 

That's what you liked about them though. They didn't ask questions.

"It's a product of war," You said like it was obvious, pressing a little more pressure against the knife, making the skin underneath it turn white. "Of course, it's hurt people…that’s, like, all it was made to do."

"Mm, that was lifetimes ago, though," They drawled, leaning forward and running a hand (big, made you feel small, made you feel delicate) over your knee, not stopping you as the rusty blade started to split your skin. They never did stop you, though. "You've kind of taken it and...made it your own, you know? It's kind of like you, in that way."

"Mm?"

"You...existed as one thing," They explained, reaching out for the knife with long, bony figures and waiting for you to give it to them, which you did readily, obediently. "And now you exist as something else. Just like this knife was once a product of war, and now it's a...tool for your pleasure, mm?"

"Pleasure," You repeated with a huffed laugh, trembling with pain as they pressed the blade against the bleeding cut, teasing the skin open more, making the wound that much harder to heal. "That's a funny way of putting it, Law."

"You're hard," They said, a little bluntly, using the blade of the knife to flick up your skirt (the gesture made your cheeks flush and your knees tighten together), showing your cock pressing tight against the bars of your chastity cage. It was less of a symbol of your submission to them (the two of you were above such binary concepts, after all) as it was a symbol of your devotion, your promise to remain faithful, your promise to not do anything they didn’t agree to. "Or, harder than you usually are. You must be enjoying something about this…"

"Okay," You huffed again, hissing as they dragged another shallow cut into your thigh, severing more segments of your tights. "Let me hold onto one phallic symbol, can you? If I’m now allowed the other…"

"Sure," They replied, taking your sarcastic retort seriously (they weren’t good at picking up on sarcasm) as they continued to stroke your scar-patterned skin with the blade. “Whatever you want…”

You breathed out unsteadily as their other hand reached up your thigh, their thumb tracing over the twin cuts tenderly, smearing blood and tracing the lines of muscle that they had inadvertently exposed.

“You have a good pain tolerance,” They observed as they dragged a third cut into your skin, their gaze going up to your face to watch you as you bit your lip, a bead of sweat running down your cheek as you tried, with all your might, to not flinch or whimper.

“Thanks,” You murmured with a sardonic smile, leaning back on the bed as they kept rubbing at your cuts. “Hh…I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” They replied with a smile, gentle and eerie and unnervingly sweet.

“I meant it as one.”

[raivenantcravings]

Oh God, the new art is giving me brain worms. Would anyone be interested in a fanfic based on it?

I’m thinking either a non-serious one shot about the boys duking it out in the middle of the forest. No set up, no exposition. Just Isagi with his duel-wielding (modern?) guns, Kaiser bloodborning it with his saber and pistol, and Rin swinging his (comically) large sword.

Or an angsty tragedy of boys who were too young getting caught up in the horrors of war.

[eyerayy]

URGENT HELP SAVE THE LIFE OF MY CHILD

Dear humanity,

Please Help Me – My Son May Die at Any Moment.

I'm Amal, a mother of three children, living under the weight of the genocide taking place in Gaza. 🍉

Here’s my story, and I’m reaching out with a hopeful heart 💔✨, hoping someone will feel what my family and I are going through.

My son is suffering from a severe and life-threatening injury after being shot by Israeli drones. He urgently needs medical treatment outside Gaza.

Time is running out, and we are facing a critical situation. I am asking for your generosity to help us save him either through a donation or by sharing this urgent plea with others

I beg you, i kiss your feet, to help my son. My son may die at any moment

I lost most of my family. I'm afraid to lose my son too 🥺

Mohammed deserves to live a happy and healthy life, just like every other child on this earth.

So I humbly ask you to donate even a little or at least reblog this appeal.

Please Donate now:👇

https://gofund.me/d272a0d1

Ddonate Via Paypal 👇

https://www.paypal.com/donate

donate: https://gofund.me/d272a0d1

paypal: https://goo.by/VIjGAr

[graphx]

tpn artbook things I noticed!

MATCHING YUUGO AND RAY VEST IM GOING TO EXPLODEEEEEE

Norman with a gun is so funny to me. He is trying so hard to look cool but he is a bird with hollow bones, the recoil from that lil thing would send him to the floor faster than Ray slapping him

stop pretending ur helping Norman, Don is literally doing all the work behind u

he is so scared to be next to ashye even in the poster (rip zack's nose scar)

the fact that norman looks so much like Nat in the concept art XD is that a cowlick or a halo???!?!!

(CHARLIE BROWN????) I regret pointing this out to my sister because now it's my pfp in her phone

vincent's sense of style will never be anything less than amazing. Look at Cislo he is SO READY for game night :D (JEMIMA AND ZAZIE WITH STUFFED ANIMALS AUGHHHHH)

HES IN HIS COMA EVEN IN THE ART IM- jail. jail for a thousand years. right next to his dead dads too IM DONE

have a Dominic it will make you feel better

Paula not knowing how party poppers work is adorable.

what they deserve (im embarrassed to have andrew's face in my camera roll)

look at Ray and Gilda pretending not to care about their little brothers (they love them more than life itself)

HE IS CARRYING THEIR THINGS JUST LIKE A DAD SHOULDDDDDD (upgraded from old man to walking coat rack :D)

why does phil get a father figure that hasn't died D:/ (jk love that for him more stronk phil plz)

YELLOW EYED VIOLET AND BROWN EYED PHIL JUMPSCARE

(my sister: gillian is dying in the bg

me: this ani't about her)

Barbra 🤝 Gillian stealing demon masks and keeping them as souvenirs

EMMAS LOST SHOE!!!!!!!

.......i'm not gonna say anything here........

there was no Don glow up he was always beautiful to me

little bunny revenge arc

he slept in the dining room???? because he didn't wanna go in the old rooms of his siblings where he wrote poachers DDDD:::::::

the ominous messages behind them!!!!!!

[shu-porang-porang]

He’s my religion

[marshmallowprotection]

Ray get in here

"C'mon, what's with that look on your face, Ray? You look like you want to ask me something but I can tell you're holding back... you know you can tell me anything, right? We're best friends, after all. Best friends can tell each other anything without the fear of being judged."

You didn't want to frighten him when he'd already been so riled up when he came to see you, but in the same vein, you hated to see his expression turn crestfallen when you could do something about it. It wasn't fair for him to look after you all the time without letting you do the same for him in return. He wasn't that hard to get a read on, what he wanted was as simple as you did.

He wanted to be heard.

He wanted someone to hear him when he sobbed about how lonely he was in this cesspool that claimed to be a paradise... to hold him and tell him it would be okay even if he suffered because someone in this world loved him and wouldn't abandon him just as his brother and V had... a wish to be heard and taken care of when he felt such wicked pain burrow itself in his chest.

But, how could he be heard if he bit his tongue? You understood that he had to be careful in this place to survive, and not only that, know in his heart you would be safe from the kind of danger he was in at all times. He did his best to look after you... after all, he brought you into this place and he didn't realize what that would mean until it was too late to protect you from harm. You appreciated how hard he worked... but you hated not being able to give him just as much as he gave you.

He tucked his lower lip under his teeth, fiddling with his gloves as you let him take his time to organize his thoughts. "I... I haven't... I haven't seen you in person for over a week because of my work... it was agony to know you were all by yourself when I could've come to see you had I proven myself to be capable of getting all of my work done in time."

"Oh, Ray," you brushed your hand against his cheek. It was there to swat away some of the tears that dared to spill. "You don't have to do that. You're doing everything you can for us, and I know it's hard to be away from me... it's hard for me to be away from you, too. But, it's like you said. If we don't play along for now, we won't be able to get out to see the world together when the time is right."

Convincing him to leave was difficult, and while he flip-flopped on the issue again and again, you were determined to let him be the one to control his future. Far too many people had stolen his autonomy... deciding his fate without a second thought... without any regard for what he might've wanted to do! If you forced him to leave, you knew you would be no better than them.

He needed to choose to leave this place on his own terms. That was the only way to make true progress towards the future.

As long as you behaved... as long as you played along... that woman would be none the wiser! It wasn't a simple game by any means, but it was the only way to prove to Ray he could live as he wanted to and not be punished for it. A taste of freedom was what he needed to see the sky whenever he wanted. But, you knew the lies were taking a toll on him. He didn't like to lie to his Savior, but if he didn't lie, you would be in trouble.

He nuzzled his cheek against your palm to let the heat take away the chill that lingered from his frigid office. "I'm tired, [prince/ss]... so very tired... I don't want to be a hacker... I don't want to work my fingers to the bone... I want my revenge on the people who hurt me so I'll never know another night of what they made me feel, but at the same time, I... I just want to be yours. I don't want to be anything but yours. All of this would be so much easier if I didn't have anywhere to be but your arms."

You didn't want him to work as hard as he was forever, either, but if you could give him anything to ease his pain, you would. You didn't miss a beat as you asked, "So, being in my arms... that would make you feel better, huh, my prince?"

"Yes... yes, of course."

"All you had to do was ask," the tender words danced across your lips. "How could I ever deny such a perfect wish?"

Without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around his waist and lifted him off the ground. He let out the cutest little gasp when he realized you were capable of sweeping him off his feet—that being on his list of things he wished he could do for you when he built up more strength in his upper body—and instead of protesting or stammering to let go, a dangerously bubbly laugh escaped the back of his throat instead.

"That's my prince," you cooed at him. You had no intention to let go of him, either, not unless he asked you to set him back down. You let him twirl around no different than a princess would when her prince decided to twist her around the ballroom. You wanted to see stars in his eyes before you ever thought to let go.

Your mystified prince had no intention of falling from your arms, either, given how fast he wrapped his legs around your waist and curled his arms across your shoulders to balance his weight against yours. He could hide his rosy cheeks all he wanted into the nape of your neck but you knew it was there just as well he knew you enjoyed the sight of him under your spell.

He didn't have to hold back.

Not when you were around to praise him.

But, of course, you knew he understood that as he shivered against your skin. "I'll always give what you want, my prince, all you have to do is ask."

[slashingdisneypasta]

Chucky Lee Ray x Reader || Drabble

Plot: When you come home from a really terrible date who definitely expects to be invited in, you do something Kinda Sneaky... and say you live with your brother and, oops! You forgot your key!!- and knock on the apartment next to yours, acting like this one is yours. Chucky's apartment.

Warnings: N/A.

Knock knock. No answer.

Knock knock knock. No answer.

Humming nervously, because why the hell why isn't he answering?? Please be home, Chucky, p l e a s e- "He must have his headphones on, the dumbass." You throw back to your date, Hank, rolling your eyes like 'brothers, huh?'.

"Hey, if you cant get it, you can always come back to my place?"

"Oh thats nice of you- " Knockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknockknock-

"Bro!" You exclaim in a loud, totally-fake greeting as soon as the door flies open and reveals Charles Lee Ray, looking as if you just woke him up, his hair in his dark eyes and a beer-stained, moth-eaten white t-shirt on that completely washes him out and makes him look like Samara Morgan (Sweet jesus, if you weren't so desperate to get away from Hank, you would be terrified of this nightmare look). His face twists into grumpy, tired confusion but before he can ask you what the hell you're talking about- you slip your arms around his waist and squeeze him in a hug. "Play along." Dear god, play along.

When you pull back, a hostage-smile pasted to your face standing there with Hank behind you looking bored and annoyed (And wearing a stained t-shirt of his own- under a date blazer), the cranky frown on his face upturns into a smirk. Oh~

You hope to god thats a good smirk and your annoying neighbour is not about to screw you.

Its not like Hank is dangerous, or t h r e a t e n i n g, at all- no. He's fine. But after 4 hours of talking about his fucking car, and The Big Bang Theory (How funny Howard Walowitz is in the first seasons and how misunderstood he is with women- jesus), and meeting his mother at the start-- you are DONE!!

DONE!! FINISHED!

You're up to hear with him and Chucky, as annoying and rude as he is, suddenly feels like a great alternative! At least if you went out with him tonight, you might've gotten a good buzz out of it. Hank took you to a Chuck E Cheese, and he didn't bring a flask.

When Chucky leans against the door and makes room for you to slip by, smirking dangerously at your date, you happily go into his apartment. You never wanted to get in there so bad, before. You never wanted to go in there, period, before today. But now it feels like sanctuary. "So... you're the guy that took out Y/N tonight."

Oh no- he's still talking. Why on earth is Chucky still talking-

"-Yeah thats him!" You cut in, before flashing Hank a bright smile and a waive. "I had a great time- bye Hank!" Please go. Please go. Please go now-

Before your date can leave and you can never see him again, Chucky stops him- and when you glance at his face, you can see an even broader, more mischievous smirk on him. Oh no. "Hold on there, man, wait. I gotta make sure you're alright, don't I??"

"No, bro, you don't." You say pointedly, making Chucky turn that nefarious, lascivious grin onto you for a moment.

"Hehe... I think I do."

Through grit teeth, you beseech him. "Fight the urge." Or, well- beg him. You're begging. You're absolutely begging.

Because wherever Chucky is going to take this, is not going to be good, especially with that evil twinkle in his pale blue eyes. "What kinda brother would I be if I didn't check him?"

"The best brother in the world."

"Ahhhhh... you're just sayin' that. Hey Hank- " When you both turn back to the hallway and see that Hank is, actually, gone-- you're equally baffled and relieved. Thank god, but... when did he leave??? Chucky, on the other hand, pouts. "Damn. ... Maybe he wasn't that into you."

While rolling your eyes, you catch sight of a black object plainly sticking out of Chucky's pyjama pants. "Or maybe he saw the gun tucked into your pants! Is that loaded!??"

"... no."

"No!??" That did not sound definitive!!

"Well yeah, of course it is. But here's the thing, doll. Guess what?" You're about to ask a put-out and huffy 'what?', when Chucky pulls the door to his apartment abruptly closed; standing far too close to you and looking at you in that lecherous Chucky-way that makes you feel so small and squirrelly. Wait- "Look at that?~ You're all mine, all of a sudden~ Hehe,"

As you stand there, half scared/half... something else, you wonder dumbly how and when did you lose control of this situation-

[heymrspatel]

if i asked you very kindly and sweetly and gave you my big ol puppy eyes would you please give us your director’s cut notes for either ‘ya big softy’ or ‘i got you big guy’? 🥺 whichever one you want? 🥺 please? 🥺

did you know that you're also a big softie? did ya? 🥹 and just cause you are, i'll with that one heehee

so, i meant for this one to be a little bit silly - squishier faces and mickey being a little bit put upon - but the more i worked on it the more i needed it to just be Soft™️. the more the story morphed and changed into something sweeter. more real.

because they just get to be like this now! in private. in public. they get to be soft. they get to let their guards down. and mickey!!! he wants this, he needs this, he won't have it any other way now. no matter where they are.

i pictured them being around people, but they're just having this moment to themselves. mickey craving ian's big arms around his shoulders. silently grabbing his hand, lifting his arm, and just ducking under with a little smirk on his face. that's where he wants to be, where he belongs. and ofcourse ian is beyond smitten by this. he's beside himself! that's his husband - the same kid that refused to kiss him all those years ago - wanting to be held in front of whoever and being sooo cute and sweet and soft about it. smiling up at ian and holding just two of his big fingers. both of their rings glinting in the light.

they get lost in it a bit. this here, now. it's wild and it's real and it's true and it's raw and it's the only thing that matters.

and ian can't stand it! how far they've come. how he gets to call him HIS. in private. in public. so he gives him the squishiest kisses. on his cheek. his forehead. his lips. calling him a big softie with all the love he can muster. right there. in front of everyone and just for them.

[geoxstxrs]

crack theory that Ray also works for the administration, and him and Jay have bonding time even though jay doesn’t know who he is

[whumpshots]

Whump ABC #24

Based on the results of this poll.

_

Whumpee rubs their eyes when they lie down again, caretaker telling them again and again that they need to rest. Compared to other things, whumpee just feels tired, but if caretaker is so insistent, they'll just listen to them.

When the other returns from the talk with the doctor, they are weirdly quiet. Whumpee cracks one eye open and sees caretaker look at them with ... something weird in their eyes. Something they can't quite identify yet.

"Hm?", whumpee grunts and manages to open the other eye, dizziness making it a little hard to see.

"I just saw your x-rays," they begin and swallow. Whumpee furrows their brows questioningly and waits for caretaker to continue. "Nothing broken, but you need to rest more," they finally say and chew on their bottom-lip.

"What else?" Whumpee feels annoyed by how weird caretaker acts and sighs.

"Your x-ray also showed something else. Something ... older." Their eyes meet for a second and whumpee softly snorts before looking up at the ceiling.

"Oh ... That was years ago, don't worry about it too much," they dismiss and start chewing on their own bottom-lip before they feel caretaker's hand on theirs. Years ago means that whumpee was a child, teenager at most when all this happened. But they have buried those memories.