#reader talks more for once

[wordstome]

what is it with me and school/university settings because I can't stop thinking about having a nasty one night stand with König at some frat party and he becomes obsessed with you while you don't even know his name. you're just trying to get through uni without crashing and burning while coping using drugs and sex and there's just this fucking guy who you slept with once and now he's everywhere, caring about you to an infuriating degree

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

We should talk more about the fact Jason got swarmed and attacked by a mob as Robin, like??? Hello. He had to be left there because the mob was too violent with Batman near. He had to be taken to the hospital.

Look at those injuries!!

The next time we see him he's forcing himself out of bed and putting on the Robin costume thinking "I've gotta do what I can to help, even if it kills me!"

The next next time we see him he has walked into yet another violent mob

I cannot stop thinking about this story and the effects it probably had on him honestly. Do you think it's made him nervous in crowds, do you think it made him trust others just that bit less. How long do you think he was being attacked before he was found, the scene had cleared. "I've gotta do what I can to help, even if it kills me!",,,,

Just the concept itself! I don't know about you guys but being attacked and grabbed and trampled into unconsciousness sounds absolutely terrifying! Did he black out, still getting hit, thinking he was going to die? Knowing he couldn't defend himself as his injuries to took their toll? At their complete mercy?

1986-87 Legends, issue #2 (the attack), #3 (the hospital), #5 (getting up), #6 (defending heros from another forming mob)

2010 DC Universe: Legacies, issue #6 (flashback panel to Legends moment)

[fatuismooches]

Playing chess with Dottore in the akademiya days and NEVER winning because….hes a genius ! And he didn’t understand the concept of letting others win to make them feel good.

He still thinks the concept is silly, if anything he’s helping you by continuing to challenge your mind…but when he sees fragile reader super down about their mental state…he finally understands what letting someone else win means.

Of course reader knows he let them win. They couldn’t beat him in the akademiya when they were sick, they can’t now . But it’s the thought that counts 🩵

Dottore was never one to be thrilled about wasting time with silly games, even when it came to ones that tested the mind such as chess. It held more appeal when he was a boy, still learning the rules and playing against himself (and perhaps the Aranara). Now he can just win against practically anyone nearly effortlessly so it doesn't hold much of a brain tease for him. Even when you come along... you're still getting obliterated.

No special privileges, unfortunately... not even his darling lover. It got to the point where you nearly set off the dorm's smoke alarm as you were too engrossed in deciding your next move while Zandik was absorbed in his book (literally investing a couple of percent of his energy into this, some more at stealing glances at your pretty, focused face, idly wondering if he should start charging for you these silly games.) He would always think you're overreacting if you get pouty about not winning once, after all, it was merely a game. And he was being rather generous indulging you... he went as far as to give you tips and hints! Helping you evolve your play!

Still, with time comes maturity and understanding, and his current self is a stark difference from his past one. Dottore's not dumb, and as distant from his humanity as he seems to be, seeing you down troubles him to say the least. He doesn't show it on his face, but his mind constantly runs through a checklist for possible things to cheer you up on bad days.

And with that... the Doctor learns. Technically he is always seeking knowledge to further his experiments, but... learning for the sake of someone else is different. It's tender. It's strange. It's not really him. But he still learns, he remembers, and he acts. If letting you win and have your way manages to cheer you up, then why would he deny it? His loss would be something forgotten by him soon enough. For you, you'd remember that win and happy feeling forever. He's analyzed his choices - it's worth it. (A bunch of scholarly talk just to boil down to he loves you and wishes to see you well.)

To give him some credit, he'd make his loss as convincing as a man like him could anyway. Making you think and work for it so you feel better about winning. You still wouldn't fall for it but you appreciate Dottore putting in the effort to make you feel good about yourself. The beautiful lie of his feigned surprise and praise makes you know that despite his flaws, deep down he'll always make sure you'll be okay, maybe not today, but one day.

[koushuwu]

「DON’T GET EATEN BY YOUR OWN SKILL」

[oneluckydragon]

✨🌸 Sunshine on your skin, flowers in my soul 🌸✨

🌊🫧Summary → In the midst of his reconciliation with Team Wish, Dusknoir begins coughing up flowers. This unfortunate brand of bad luck should be a cosmic joke. A spiteful punishment that the world has brought down on him out of malice, out of vengeance for his past deeds. A cruel, agonizing curse manifested with the single unjustified purpose of preventing him from realizing happiness, ever seeking redemption, ever righting his multitudes of wrongs and moving on with his life. But that's not true, and he knows it deep down. Knows it in the very core of his soul like the flood of petals building in this throat.

This is his fault because he is a coward, and that's all he has ever been. A backstabbing, lonely coward.

And now he is going to die because of it.

[AO3]

[CH. I -- Word Count -- 13,290]

🌒💫 Return → the act of going back to a place, person, or memory

[CH. II -- TBA]

[natasha-in-space]

All Good Things Must End

Ray/gn!reader;

From the beginning, you trusted Ray with all your heart. He was the embodiment of your fairytale dream come to life. Your respite from all the unappealing troubles of the outside world. But all fairytales have an ending to them. And yours is not as happy as you expected.

CW: brief mention of violence, erratic behavior, depiction of a codependent relationship. This is a Danger Ray fic! Set during V's route. Loosely based on the 7th day outgoing call to V (11:51 AM, after the 'Provoke' chatroom).

Lovely dividers by @/saradika-graphics!

Ray was a good man. A kind man. A fragile man, even. His entire appearance would remind you of a beautiful but delicate flower. So starved for love and warmth, yet so sensitive to every harsh touch of the wind, even the slightest of pushes against its soft petals would make it start to wilt. A flower that needed nothing but some gentle care and love for it to come into bloom. And, of course, you were willing to give him just that. After all, why wouldn't you be? Ray has been nothing but kind and caring towards you, ever since you stepped foot into this strange place, guiding you along the way while holding your hand and not minding any of your clumsy mistakes. He was understanding. Attentive. Curious. Always checking in with you and eager to hear about your day. Never ignoring you or making you feel stupid if you didn't understand a thing or two.

No wonder you found it so easy to open up to him in your short time here. You trusted that he would do no wrong by you. Just as he promised.

At least... that's what you thought. And appearances can be deceiving. Oh, so very deceiving. Now, it felt downright humiliating just how much of a blind fool you really were. How stupidly determined you were to deny and rebuke anyone daring to challenge your views on Ray.

You loyally refused to trust Rika's musings about Ray's 'darkness' during your brief stay with her, dismissing them as nothing but her twisted philosophy that you couldn't even begin to comprehend. You impulsively denied V's numerous warnings not to trust in Ray's sugary words, reassuring yourself over and over again that surely his affections for you must be true and earnest. You turned your back on every nagging suspicion buzzing at the back of your mind during short moments of unrest. You knew in your heart that Ray was a kind, tender boy. He was simply confined to an environment that would exacerbate his worst traits.

And he was only human, right? No one is immune to harmful outside influences being forced down upon them. Anyone could end up in his place one day, even you. It was no reason for you to be hostile and distrustful of him.

Then again, maybe that was just your mind trying desperately to keep you calm in the midst of a horrible storm you found yourself being forcibly thrust into. After all, accepting just how truly bad and out of your control things truly were here... How utterly helpless and vulnerable you were, with no one there to come save you if you needed it... How trapped and isolated you were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but miles and miles of lush mountain forests, with no civilization in sight...

Just the thought of it would make a heavy lump of acidic bile rise up to your throat. The sad truth is... Ray simply provided you with feelings of solace and comfort that some deeper, weaker part of you was so desperate for. Losing that was something you were not ready to face yet. He was there by your side from day one. He had a better understanding of you than anyone else did. Of course you would cling to his familiar presence for this brief feeling of stability you yearned for so gravely.

In retrospect, it was always a losing battle for you to try and win. You could have done better. You really, really could have done so much better. Yet it still hit you harder than a sledgehammer to the back of your skull, when the bitter reality has finally reared its ugly head to you, without any regard for your fragile heart.

You resent yourself for hitting that call button despite your gut screaming at you not to. You were already well aware that you would regret doing that, somewhere on the back of your mind. But, in the moment, your worry for your friend overpowered your lingering anxiety. Maybe out of some sense of duty. V made it all the way here, just to save you. You played a big role in his capture, in a way. If it wasn't for you, he wouldn't be in danger. And not knowing a single thing about his whereabouts or even his state was... daunting.

So, you dialed his phone number.

You anticipated that he wouldn't pick up. Maybe you would receive a very brief phone call with him begging you to keep yourself safe, like he always would. Or even just a quick exchange of words between you two that would maybe give you even the tiniest of clues on his whereabouts. Something you could then relay to Seven. Make yourself useful. Actually do something, instead of just sitting there and driving yourself mad with dozens upon dozens of anxious thoughts clouding your mind.

What you received was worse than you could have ever imagined.

It was one thing to hear pained groans, gasps, and raspy coughing on the other end of the line. You already had an expectation that V would not be okay when you hear his voice. It still left your knees feeling weak and your heart lurching in your chest with a dizzying intensity, but you could handle that, to an extent. What you couldn't handle was also hearing a familiar soft-spoken voice that has become an unstated but undeniable source of comfort for you. A voice that was now sounding so cold and angry, that your brain had a hard time comprehending what was happening, seemingly shutting down completely, as you remained deathly quiet for the whole duration of that cursed call.

Ray just was not supposed to be there.

You have heard him get angry before. You have heard him lose his grip on reality before. You have heard him say things you couldn't truly agree with, despite you still going along with them regardless, to avoid causing him any disturbance. Those were all aspects of him you were not blind to. You just actively chose to overlook them whenever they would come up. Something that you probably shouldn't have done.

-But you never heard him be so downright cruel and vicious before. Seemingly not at all disturbed by the very real sounds of suffering from the other living person there with him. Even getting angrier at them.

Like it was something completely normal. Not at all worth getting upset or worried over.

You couldn't wrap your head around the fact that this was the same man that worried himself sick over you simply scraping a knee. He was so caring, so empathetic to you back then... over a small cut, of all things. And now, that very same man was not at all disturbed by such grave suffering happening right in front of him.

No, by the sounds of it... he was actively causing it.

And that's not something you could live in peace with.

The call lasted for a maximum of two minutes. That's the time that your phone would display to you whenever you mindlessly return to it, anyway. But it felt way longer than that. For those two horrible minutes, your ears were ruthlessly subjected to the merciless reality you were so desperate to avoid facing up until that very moment.

The bitter truth was that Ray is not a fragile flower. Nor is he a prince from a fairytale. For, fairytales are not reality. No matter how much you want them to be. He was a man, a human being, just like you. Just like every other person in this building. And much like any human being, he was more than capable of causing harm by his own two hands if he so chooses. In fact, he would do so purposefully. And a victim of his spiraling wrath was no longer some faceless unlucky believer that you could forget about in a matter of hours, despite you genuinely feeling bad for them. No, it was your friend. A friend who fought so desperately to save you, even at the cost of his own safety. A friend you have come to care for in the short time you have known each other.

A friend, you knew for sure didn't deserve to be suffering in the way that he was. By the hands of your other friend you cared for just as deeply.

Such reality was just too cruel for you to bear.

So, you do the most foolish thing of all.

You confront Ray head-on.

"-Y/N, you must be confused... I've done no wrong. I do admit that I... did loose myself for a moment there, but- but it was his own fault! If he just kept quiet and drank the elixir like my Savior has instructed, I wouldn't get so upset with him. And he kept saying his stupid lies... He wouldn't shut up. My head hurt so bad... You have no idea."

You are left feeling sick to your very core by the soft apologetic smile reflected on Ray's face, once you do have a chance to finally face him again. No matter what you say, how hard you try to show him how wrong and cruel his actions really were, it was all completely pointless. For someone so seemingly skittish and subservient, Ray was frustratingly stubborn in his beliefs. It was like throwing a tennis ball at a wall. The more force you put into your throw to get your point across, the harder it just bounces right back into your face, leaving you with the painful sting of your failure.

You shake your head, an ugly mess of emotions steadily clouding your sense of judgment. At some point, you lose track of your location and position. All caution goes out the window. All that remains is a debilitating feeling of betrayal, clutching at your insides like metal rods slowly puncturing your very heart. "It is still wrong, Ray! How can you not see that!? He was suffering, and you just- just-"

The words don't come out of your mouth, obstructed by the suffocating lump stuck in the middle of your throat. You were going in circles now. You have been trying to get through to him for almost ten minutes straight, and still no results. You have to take a moment to try and regain your breathing. A soft glowed hand rests gently upon your chin, causing you to tilt your head to meet Ray's gaze instead.

You are disgusted by the genuine concern etched onto his delicate features. By the unfeigned emotions of nothing but genuine care and affection swimming in his eyes as he looks at you. By the tender touch warming up your clammy skin. All of it is sincere. You know he is not lying to you. Not right now, at least. And that is a sickening realization to come to.

More than anything, you are disgusted by the simple fact that you cannot perceive him as a monster or an angel. Ray is no perfect prince from a fairytale, no matter how hard he may try and appear to you as such.

He's a human.

Just like you.

And this implies that he is capable of all the atrocities that any human being is capable of. As much as he is kind to you, he can also be cruel to others. As much as his hands soothe and tremble when they brush up against yours, they can also hurt and sully those he harbors hatred for. It's not all black and white, as you would like to delude yourself into thinking.

And his actions were truly appalling to you. You couldn't live in your fantasy world anymore. It was sullied. Destroyed beyond repair. Your Wonderland has been corrupted from the start, and you just denied each and every sign of it, until it was too late.

"My prince/ss... It pains me to see you in such distress. Though, your tender heart is another trait of you that I adore," Ray whispers to you softly, his thumb lightly brushing over your cheekbone. He was touching you so gently, it's almost like you were made out of glass. And yet, just a few hours earlier, these exact hands were causing so much suffering to someone you care so deeply about. The thought prompts you to swallow hard and clutch your hands together as they start to shake. He continues, seemingly undisturbed by your lack of a positive response. "-But believe me when I say that that villain is not deserving of your compassion. He tried to take you away from me... To ruin what you and I have built together. I cannot stand by and watch him do that to us. What if you got hurt because of him? I would never forgive myself, if that were to happen."

You shut your eyes, refusing to accept the reality unfolding before you. Everything was wrong. So very wrong. One part of you wanted to scream and shout at him, to make him see the twisted nature of his words by pure unrelenting force if you have to. But there was another part of you that contemplated just giving up and concluding this interaction altogether. The debilitating feeling of helplessness was just too much for you to handle.

You are not allowed to do either of those things, however. Instead, another hand lightly rests on the small of your back, pulling you in towards the source of your distress. And you don't fight it. You feel your forehead come in contact with Ray's chest, his flowery scent filling your senses, as both of his arms are now circling around you. You hear a happy sigh fall from his lips. It all seemed like a very cruel joke on you. A moment that seemed so sweet and touching, bringing you nothing but more hurt and anguish.

Did he really not see anything amiss with any of this?

"I missed you so much, my flower... You know, when I heard that liar try and talk to me like he knew you better than I do, I felt like I might just strangle him right then and there. Make sure he never utters your lovely name ever again." Ray's voice is slightly gruff from how quiet it is against the side of your head. A low hum vibrates in his throat as he nuzzles into your hair like an affectionate cat would, breathing in your scent with all the longing you could possibly ask for. Though, the only thing that comes from his affections is a sickening feeling of dread for you.

"-But I thought of you. I thought of your lovely smile... Your eyes, your voice. I know I shouldn't think like this, but... You gave me more strength than my Savior's words ever did. What I did... I did for you. For us, Y/N." He continues, taking a step back from the hug to look at you. Your gaze is cast low, as you don't reciprocate the gesture. You can't bring yourself to look at him right now. It's hard to even keep yourself from putting your hands over your ears to avoid hearing it all. He gently tilts your head up, however, making it clear that he wants you to look at him. "Please don't be upset... It breaks my heart to see you sad because of that villain."

That's when the dam inside of you finally shatters, all repressed emotions spilling out in a violent wave of hopelessness you cannot bring yourself to stop. You wrench yourself away from Ray's arms, your own hands now clenched into tight fists as you look him directly in the eyes. There's a fire burning ever hotter inside of your chest, and you make no attempt to put it out. You let it take over you completely, consequences be damned.

"Villain?Villain!? Ray, he did all he could to save me! And you locked him up and tortured him for that!"

Your mind is screaming at you to stop. To stop and fix things before they spiral too out of your control.

You're being too aggressive. Too blunt. Too disobedient. Staying safe requires you to be both calm and smart about this. And you are neither of those things right now.

But you don't care.

Even as you see the emotions in Ray's eyes shift from that suffocating affection to a mix of desperation and frustration you know well. He makes a step towards you. You make two steps back. This makes his brows furrow in what you could only assume was dissatisfaction.

You never backed away from him before.

"Save you...? No. No. Y/N, he tried to steal you from me. Poison you with his lies, like he has done to my Savior. He did it to me, too! I'm the one who saved you. I did what had to be done to protect you!" You can actively hear his voice changing from the shaky disbelief at your denial of him to rough desperation to prove you wrong. It's borderline scary how quick those changes are occurring right in front of your eyes. Almost in a blink of an eye. It's yet another blaring warning for you to stop.

One that you ignore.

Instead, your frustration boils up inside of you, making you sneer at his stubborn refusal to see reason: "By hurting him!? By making him choke and gag in pain? What was the point of-"

Your angry line of thought is instantaneously interrupted by a small yeep that slips past your lips, as Ray closes in on you in just a couple of quick steps, grabbing at your wrists with a tight grip. Tight enough to cause you some discomfort. His eyes are wide, and his breathing is noticeably shaky. Like he's fighting to get enough air into his lungs and failing miserably. He yanks you close, making you stumble into him without much time for you to struggle or push back against him. Mostly due to your state of pure disbelief. You never expected Ray to actually do anything to you. And while he wasn't actively hurting you, this was still shattering your perception of him to bits and pieces. Or, what remained of it.

"That was nothing, Y/N. He deserved all of that. He deserved that and more. You feel sad for him? You wish mercy on him?" You are suddenly pushed back against the wall, and Ray's slim form keeps you trapped in this makeshift cage you created for yourself with your reckless actions. Ray's voice grows shakier, yet also significantly lower. It sounded dangerous. Angry. His nose brushes up against yours, as he's leaning so close to you, you can't focus on anything but him. Your breath hitches as you instinctively press yourself up against the wall, the panicked pounding of your heart echoing in your temples. "You have no idea how badly he hurt me. What pain I went through because of that- that-"

You can't help but wince in pain as his grip on you tightens. An action that seems to immediately shake Ray out of his temporary fit of anger, as he gasps and quickly lets go of you, stumbling backwards with a frightened expression painted over his features. You don't even have to look at him to know that he is probably in a less than stable state of mind. You are left staggered, betrayed and confused, as you stand there, eyes cast low, rubbing at your wrists. They didn't hurt. Not much, at least. It's the psychological aspect of it that left an impact of you.

Ray's voice feels muffled as it reaches your ears through the constant flow of thought in your head.

"I- N-No, Y/N, I'm sorry, I didn't want to- Are you hurt?" You can see him taking a step back towards you, hand reaching out for yours, probably to check on your wrists. You can tell he's scared. And upset. Probably guilty. Which makes this even harder for you to grapple with.

Either way, you cut him off, not wanting to hear any more of this. Partially because you understand that staying to listen will only cause you to break further, if it was even possible at this point. Because he sounds so genuine, nervous, and miserable, it makes your heart ache for him despite yourself. Makes you want to look up, smile, and say that you're okay. That you two can figure it out together.

And you don't want to repeat the same mistake twice.

"Just... Leave, Ray." You mutter out quietly, not raising your eyes at him. You sound a bit too soft for your liking, but it'll do. Swallowing, you repeat yourself for good measure. "Please. Leave."

There is a prolonged pause between the two of you. It's almost too lengthy for comfort. Neither of you say anything for a while. But the tension in the air is thick, and it does not fade with time. It only grows. Crawling over you like snakes. There is a fear within you that prevents you from looking at him. A fear of seeing the pain in his eyes. Or, instead, to come face to face with that same anger that felt so alien to you.

Ray finally speaks up. His voice is barely audible.

"...N-No..."

He moves closer to you still. For the second time today, you are finding yourself backing away. But now, you turn your back on him and keep your hands locked where you can see them. You can feel them shaking. With a sigh, you repeat: "Leave."

And, as you soon learn, that was not a very wise choice for you to make.

You're quickly spun around before you can think to act, and Ray's fingers are digging into your shoulders with a disturbing intensity, leaving you little time to react. He's observing you as if you were a wounded animal that was left behind after being hit by a car. Like you're the saddest creature he had ever seen. And, for some reason, that look scares you more than the previous anger he showed you.

"I can't believe this..." He murmurs under his breath, his eyes darting over your figure, almost like he was searching for something physical on you that could be visible to the human eye. But he doesn't find it, and that seems to upset him further. You try to pull away from him, only to get jerked back in again, his hold on you tightening.

Only this time, he does not pay any attention to your visible discomfort. He was too occupied with his own thoughts that you were not aware of. It's like he doesn't even see you. Not fully, anyways.

He holds your chin and tilts your face to examine you more closely. As he does, his shaky breath sneaks over your cheek and causes you to shiver in place.

"He... He poisoned you, didn't he...?"

The hushed murmur sounds so utterly ridiculous that it almost makes you forget about the disturbing nature of this situation for a good moment. Yet, he was completely serious. And he wasn't even talking to you, by the looks of it.

"What? Ray, I-"

"-That's why you are saying all these things to me... That's why you don't trust me anymore." Ray cuts you off as if you were not there, his brows furrowing into a deep scowl, but not one aimed directly at you. One of his hands grips onto your chin, while the other finds your hand and takes it into his own, his fingers sliding between yours. He grasps it tight, in a hold that would feel reassuring, if it wasn't for the circumstances. "My Y/N wouldn't tell me to leave. I should've guessed..."

A shiver of fear runs down your spine. As your outburst of frustration subsides, you slowly start to realize the seriousness of this situation for you, as the fire of anger and betrayal subsides. Now you wish Ray was angry again. At least then he still listened to you. But how can you fix things when he doesn't even acknowledge you?

"-Don't worry," You are brought back to reality by a warm and assuring smile on Ray's face. One that only makes you feel nauseous. He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, making your breath hitch. Staying there, he whispers onto your skin, like a secret promise only for your ears to hear. "I will fix it, my prince/ss. I shouldn't have been away from you for this long in the first place... My Savior is far too busy to give you the care and attention you need. But now, I'm here. And I'm not leaving your side again. I promise. I'll make sure you are smiling again."

He does not let go of you again. While your fairytale might have been broken, his has only begun its story. And his happily ever after is not something he will give up on. Even if you did.

[anonymergremlin]

Y/N: You know, there are only two things, that you did right during your life. *Plays with the blade in their hand*

Geppetto: *looks at them angry* And that would be?

Y/N: Carlo and P. Your sons. *Focuses their gaze on the old man* But I am sure you would rather hear about the biggest mistake you made during your life. *Points their blade at him* Not killing me when you had the chance. Not killing the one person, who knows all... all of your goddamn mistakes.

Geppetto: Threatening me? What do you think your doing? Actions have consequences child, do you really believe he would still feel any kindness or love towards you if you kill me?

Y/N: ... *Sighs* It's a small price to pay if it means I can save his life. Trust me, when Carlo died and Romeo disappeared... I was already gone. Nothing was left but... *Laughs while holding back their tears* then he appeared, and I... felt Iike I found myself again. For a short time... I was happy again. That Geppetto, that is all that matters. I am not afraid of dying. Of losing everything again, as long my love can live on.

[hollybell51]

Gentleman

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Sam Winchester x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005), s03e02 “bloodlust”

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: you and Sam don't exactly see eye to eye with Dean's new friend, so you return to the motel by yourselves. Things... escalate.  

Content: smutty smut smut! Shameless, loving, gentle porn with a bit of a plot. Tooth rotting sappiness and fluff. Bit of hurt/comfort, bit of angst. Reader is just so in love with Sam (I am too dw). Sam is down horrendously bad for the reader (I'm horrendously down bad for him. I cannot emphasise this enough). Use of (Y/N), but not too much. Hickeys, making out, extremely light switchiness (barely noticeable, just healthily flexible dynamics), blowjobs, handjobs, fingering, safe sex, vaginal sex. Hugs all round (someone needed to give these boys one), Dean and the reader get along, Dean has like one soft moment, there's quite a bit of reminiscing and stuff. Gordon's vibes are Off. As above, set during season 2 episode 3.

Notes: HAPPY NEW YEAR MY LOVES! I'm (kinda) back, and my summaries have not gotten any better! Started watching Supernatural and got brainrot. Got lots of stuff planned but probably won't actually write it (sorry). The things I would let these two men do to me is insane like actually insane besties I am not ok. Anyways enjoy the by-product of my suffering, consider this a peace offering as I worm my way into the Supernatural fandom.

Also I have been working sporadically on some requests so if you made one chances are I've seen it and I have started it, but also I have Things in my Life right now that are very Stressful so yeah that's fun but yknow it is what it is, thanks everyone for being so supportive and patient with me xx

To say you were uncomfortable would have been an understatement. It wasn’t just how easily Gordon was talking about what had happened, or the too-bright light in his eyes as he recounted it, or Dean’s ease with the whole thing. It had been a freaking execution! And sure, the guy was a vampire, but the way the saw had just chewed right through his neck, the kicking of his legs as he’d died, the blood spraying over Dean’s face… yeah. As Sam had put it, decapitations weren’t really your idea of a good time. And it certainly wasn’t something you felt like laughing about over drinks. 

You could see Sam’s leg bouncing slightly, his face blank as he stared at the beer he was nursing. Your own stomach twisted with unease. Chances were, if he was on edge, so were you. The emotional interplay wasn’t new, and in fact, Dean gave you endless shit about it. “I don’t know what’s up with you,” he’d say. “I just gotta thank God I don’t develop some freaky emotional feedback loop with every girl I bang.” 

Now, Sam glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. You screwed up your nose. Not enough to be too noticeable, but enough to let him know you thought something was a bit off too. He nodded almost imperceptibly. 

“What’s up with you two?” Dean asked, frowning at your practically untouched beer. 

You shrugged. Sam shrugged. 

Dean rolled his eyes, taking a mouthful of his drink before turning to his new friend. “I swear,” he said, “they read each others' minds. He’s grumpy, she’s grumpy. She’s happy, he’s happy. I reckon if she stubbed her toe, he’d be limping.” 

Gordon barked a laugh, raising his eyebrows. “That so?” 

“Dean, come off it,” you sighed. 

He shook his head, smiling. “Lighten up, both of you.” 

You opened your mouth to say something about how you didn’t think lightening up was really appropriate given the circumstances, but the scraping of Sam’s chair cut you off. 

“I’m not gonna bring you guys down,” he said. “I’m just gonna go back to the motel.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed as he glanced at you, “I’m a bit tired.” 

Dean frowned. “You sure?” 

You nodded, standing. 

“Ok,” he shrugged. “Seeya.” 

“Seeya,” you smiled tightly, then passed him your unfinished beer. “You want this?” 

“You’re not taking it?” 

You shook your head. “Not in a beer sort of mood.” 

He gave you a searching look, then shrugged again and took the drink. “Sure.” 

“Thanks, Gordon.” You nodded to the other hunter. As much as you felt off about him, you didn’t need to be rude. 

He inclined his head back to you. “My pleasure.” 

Sam’s hand settled on your back as you joined him by the door, and you cast a final glance back at the two men remaining at the table. 

“Sammy!” Dean called, the car keys jingling in his hand as he tossed them to his brother. “Remind me to beat that buzzkill outta you later, alright?” 

Sam caught them with ease, Gordon’s enquiry of “something I said?” chasing you out the door. Hell yeah, it was something he said. It was everything he said.  

“Jesus,” you grumbled, shivering in the cold air. 

Sam snorted, absently shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. Equally thoughtlessly, you put it on. It had become something of a routine. Sam didn’t exactly get too cold very often, but you did. He was many things, and “gentleman” was pretty high on the list by you reckoning. 

“I don’t know about all of this,” he said, feet crunching on the gravel as he headed towards the car. “Something’s…” 

“Off, yeah.” You swung into the passenger seat, arms crossed firmly over your chest. 

“I can’t quite–” The engine cut him off for a moment, but he didn’t finish the sentence anyway. It didn’t matter.

“I know, it’s a brain itch.” 

Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Tell me about it. Seatbelt,” he added as the car rolled out of the parking lot, another habit between the two of you. You could have sworn you’d have been dead years ago if you hadn’t had someone reminding you to use the damn things, a fact that both Winchester brothers were not afraid to attempt to drill into you. They hadn’t had much success. 

You hummed as you clicked the strap across your body, shrinking further down into the seat. You were feeling better now that you weren’t sitting across from Gordon, now that it was just you and Sam. You loved Dean, of course you did, but Sam was just so easy to be around. The two of you clicked, simple as that, and you adored it. 

“I’m gonna call Ellen,” Sam said decisively, frowning at the road. “Maybe she knows him.” 

You nodded. “Mhm, good idea.” 

You were still humming – the melody from something that had been playing on the drive that day, you thought – as you entered the motel room, gulping down a glass of water before jumping onto the kitchen counter. Your heels made a dull thud, thud, thud, on the cupboards as you swung them, the zipper of Sam’s jacket swishing over the cheap vinyl. You watched him take a seat on the bed and dial Ellen. 

You listened idly to his side of the conversation, eventually sliding off the counter top and coming to sit behind him on the bed. You rested your head on his shoulder, sighing. It had been an oddly long day. 

“But I thought you said he was a good hunter,” he was frowning. 

You thought you heard her say “Hannibal Lecter”, and frowned too. Shit, was Gordon some kind of serial killer? You hoped not. 

Sam’s back was warm under your cheek, but his shoulders were tense. The last few weeks hadn’t been easy. You hadn’t known John Winchester well, but the time you’d spent with him had been… Well, it hadn’t been nice exactly, but you could see the love he had for his sons. You couldn’t imagine going through what Sam had, almost losing his brother and then really losing his father in the space of a week. You thought he was handling everything reasonably well, all things considered.

There’d been one moment, just a few days ago, when you’d thought he might crack. Dean had been out like a light in the back of the car, and you’d reached around to snap a photo of him squished up against the window. You’d laughed at it – he looked ridiculous. When you’d glanced up to show Sam, he was staring straight at the road, a muscle in his jaw twitching. 

“Alright?” you’d asked, and he’d nodded.

You’d frowned. “Want me to drive for a bit?”

This time, a head shake.

He wasn’t alright, you could see that clear as day. “Sam, pull over,” you said softly.

He’d swung the car off the road so abruptly you’d jerked against your seatbelt, simply sitting with his foot on the brake and both hands on the steering wheel.

You’d reached over and put the car in park, switching off the ignition. “Come on,” you’d said, “out.” 

He’d leant against the side of the car, arms crossed, staring out into the field you were driving past. 

“Interesting grass?” you’d asked, bumping your shoulder against his. 

He hadn’t smiled exactly, but his mouth had definitely twitched up a bit at the corner. You’d consider that a win. 

“Seriously,” you’d prodded. “What’s up?” 

“I don’t…” He’d trailed off, picking at a loose thread on his shirt. “I can’t…” 

You’d frowned as he’d shaken his head, looking anywhere but you. You’d told yourself something like this was gonna happen eventually, prepped the whole “I’m here no matter what” speech a thousand times, but now you didn’t really know what to do. The only thing you could think of was to put your hand on his back, rubbing slow, soothing circles like your kindergarten teacher used to do when you were upset. 

Sam’s voice was choked when he finally spoke. “I can’t lose you.” 

Four words, but you were convinced your heart had shattered right there. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, stepping to face him. You took his hands in yours, uncrossing his arms.

“How can you–?” 

You cut him off, shaking your head as you raised his hands to your face and kissed his knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere,” you repeated. “Nowhere you can’t follow.” 

He’d just nodded, pulling you into a tight hug. You breathed deeply, the strong smell of the most recent laundromat’s detergent all around you, your fingers bunched in the back of Sam’s shirt. 

“I’ve got your back,” you whispered. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” he murmured into your hair, “I’ve got yours, too.” 

“Good.” You’d pulled away, smiling as you stretched up to kiss him. It was soft and chaste, but that was all either of you needed. 

Then Dean had woken up and shouted at you to save your “romantic moments” for when you weren’t supposed to be driving. You’d grumbled that he was just jealous, which he’d vehemently denied amongst a lot of vomit noises. But later, as you’d waited for Sam to get back with lunch, he’d put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to his side. 

“I’m glad he’s got you,” he’d said. “Real glad.” 

“You’ve got me too,” you’d smiled. “Always.” 

He’d just stared at you for a moment, his arm still around you, before he’d cleared his throat and stepped back. “Thanks,” he’d muttered. “‘ppreciate it.”  

Now, with the same softness, you let your hand slide up Sam’s back and across his shoulders, then down his side. You brushed over his chest, down to his stomach, then back up to settle over his heart. You always forgot how big he was until you tried to get your arms around him, then it was like hugging a mountain. You loved it. 

He cleared his throat. 

You smiled, placing a soft kiss where his hair brushed the back of his neck, using your free hand to sweep it away. 

“Ok, yeah,” Sam said to Ellen. He sighed as your lips trailed higher, up under his ear. 

“Mhm, we will.” His fingers curled in the bed covers as you sucked ever so gently at the spot you’d found, the one you knew drove him insane. 

“Yep, alright. Thanks, Ellen.” A forceful swallow as you rubbed slow patterns across his front, nothing but the thin material of his shirt separating your hand from his skin. 

“Ok. Bye.” 

You smiled as the phone beeped, then was thrown to the bed. You eased your hand under his shirt, shivering as your fingers met the warm expanse of his torso. You could touch him like this forever, if you were given the chance. 

“What’re you doing?” he breathed, tilting his head back, baring his throat. 

“Kissing you,” you whispered as you moved down the muscle of his neck, “touching you,” as your hand ran gently over his pectoral, thumb grazing his nipple. 

“Mm, do I get to kiss you too?” 

You smiled. “If you ask nicely, yeah.” 

“Please?” 

“Hm?”

He sighed. “(Y/N), come on.” 

“Nope,” you laughed softly. “Ask nicely.” 

You felt his chest heave under your hand, and you pressed your mouth to his neck again. 

“Pretty please,” he murmured. 

You pretended to be considering this for a moment, dragging it out. Truth be told, you wanted him to kiss you just as much as he wanted to, but God it was fun teasing a bit. Especially like this, when it was you draped over his back, hinting at giving him hickeys, touching wherever you pleased. 

“Go ahead,” you replied. 

Before you could even draw another breath he’d turned and brought his hand up to cup your face, pressing his lips against yours. You let him lick into your mouth, his tongue sliding languidly alongside your own, the faint taste of beer still clinging to him. It was all so soft and gentle and full of care, everything you adored about him. 

He shifted back on the bed, turning to face you. Your hands were still under his shirt, arm still stretched across his body as he pushed against you. 

“I love this on you,” he murmured as his hands found the opening of his jacket, pushing it back over your shoulders. 

You smiled. “You want me to take it off?” 

“And this.” He plucked at the t-shirt you wore underneath, already coaxing it upwards. 

“Alright,” you laughed, batting his hands away. “Patience is a virtue.” 

“Whoever said that clearly never met you.” 

You looked away, hoping to hide the pink you could feel flooding your cheeks. However many times you did this, Sam never failed to get you flustered. You could sense his eyes on you as you stripped yourself of your shirt and his jacket, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine.

He started to shuffle back further onto the bed, one hand settling on your waist as he leant down to kiss along your jaw. You sighed, your mind halfway made up to just let him keep going like that. But no. 

“Uh-uh,” you said, pushing him gently off you. 

“What do you–? Oh.” 

You smiled as you slid off the bed, kneeling between his legs. You ran your hand up his thigh, deftly undoing his belt and fly. Heck, you’d had practice. “Can I?”

“Yes,” he nodded quickly. “God, yes.” 

You rolled your eyes, gesturing to his pants. “Well you gotta help me out a bit, yeah?” 

“Sorry,” he grinned, shedding them in one smooth motion.

“And those.” You pointed at his underwear. 

“Yes, your highness.” 

“Damn right,” you muttered as you kissed your way up his thigh, nipping gently at the skin of his hip. He smelled of the soap from last night’s motel room, faint but still there, a little sweat from the night’s earlier action. You could taste it where your tongue touched him, and man was it good.

His voice was breathy when he asked, “You gonna keep teasing me forever?” 

“Maybe.” You watched as goosebumps appeared where your breath tickled him, smiling to yourself. 

“Is that what’s got you smiling like that?” 

You sat back on your heels, arms resting on his knees as you looked up at him. He was so gorgeous, the shitty neon lighting of the room glancing off his hair in a kind of halo. You thought your next words through very carefully. 

“No,” you said slowly. “I’m thinking about how your cock’s gonna feel in my mouth. How you’re gonna say my name when I’ve got you so deep down my throat I’m almost gagging. I bet you won’t be able to keep your hands off me, I’ll make you feel so good.” 

Sam’s mouth fell open, his hands twitching where they rested on the duvet. 

“What do you think?” 

He swallowed. “I think I’m not even gonna take you up on that bet, I think you’re right.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Ok then.” You smiled, leaning forward and taking his dick in your hands. It was hard and warm to the touch, already leaking precum. You licked down, then up again, swirling your tongue around the head. 

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Please, (Y/N).” 

“You want me to suck it?” 

“Yes. Please.” 

You shrugged. “Since you asked so nicely.” You sank your mouth down onto him, your hands working what wouldn’t fit. Sam’s thighs tensed, and you moved. You could have stayed like that forever, you thought, just holding him in your mouth. You had half a mind to ask about that, actually. 

Sam moaned, his fingers twisting in the covers as you pulled your head back, then forward again, sucking and licking along his length. You’d wanted to take your time at first, tease him and see how long it took for him to be fisting your hair and moving your head for you. But now, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the weight and the heat of him, you were losing your composure. 

“Oh my God,” he whispered as you increased your speed, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. His dick was slick with your spit and only getting messier, something you might have been embarrassed about in the past. Now it turned you on. 

You moaned, the vibrations jolting Sam’s hips despite his best efforts. You gave a tiny huff of laughter out your nose, lowering your head even further until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. 

“(Y/N),” he panted. “Shit, (Y/N).” 

“Hm?” You glanced up at him, your eyes watering slightly. He made a sound you’d thought only existed in pornos – before you met him, that was – as his hand finally flew to your hair, his fingers carding through it. He was trying so hard to be gentle, and you loved him for it. 

“You look so hot like that,” he whispered. “How’re you so fucking hot?” 

You smiled, your enthusiasm doubling. You vividly remembered a conversation you’d had with Sam and Dean in the car once, where Dean had proclaimed that “there are blowjobs, and then there are blowjobs.” Sam had turned and looked at you, raising an eyebrow. Dean had yelled at you both and told you to get a room. What you were doing right now was definitely a blowjob, and you were loving every second of it. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Sam was panting, “(Y/N) oh my God I’m gonna cum.” 

His fingers tightened in your hair, his head thrown back and his cock twitching in your mouth. You went all in, sucking and licking and jerking with everything you had in you. 

Yes, you thought as you swallowed everything he gave you, basking in his muttered curses and groans like they were water and you were a wilted houseplant. This was heaven, right here. Every time you watched him come undone, you were completely convinced it couldn’t get any better than this. And without fail, the next time it did. 

He was still panting as you licked him clean, as gently as you could. His hand had settled on your shoulder, large fingers caressing your skin so tenderly it made you want to cry. 

“You ok?” you asked, sitting back. You patted his knee, watching his face carefully. He was flushed, a light sheen of sweat sticking some of his hair to his forehead. You hadn’t really paid much attention at the time, but now you wished you’d made him take off his shirt too. You loved watching his chest heave as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Ok?” he echoed, opening his eyes. He grinned. “I’m more than ok.” 

You smiled back, licking your lips. “Good.” 

“Come up here,” he said, patting his leg. “And take off your pants.” 

“Magic word?”

“Please.” Then, on second thoughts, “pretty please.” 

You laughed, but got up and shed your jeans anyway. You slid onto his lap, straddling his thigh and wrapping your arms around his neck. He kissed you softly, holding you close against him. The material of his shirt tickled your skin, very noticeably baring you from the silken warmth of his skin. 

“Off,” you said against his lips, plucking at the garment. 

“Off,” he repeated, tracing the line of your underwear. 

Almost perfectly in sync, the two of you shed the offending clothing. 

“I love this,” he whispered as he reached behind you, deftly unfastening your bra and pulling it away from you. He set it aside carefully, almost reverently, then bent his head and fastened his mouth to your breast. “Hey,” he said after a moment, frowning. 

You frowned too. “What’s wrong?” 

His finger traced a delicate circle over your other breast, tapping at a spot just above your nipple. “What’s this?” 

You squinted at the area, then laughed. The faded yellowish bruise wasn’t all that visible, but of course Sam would find it. 

“What is it?” 

“It’s a hickey. From you. From last time.” 

His face cleared. “Shit, didn’t realise it’d last that long. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” you smiled. “Makes me think of you whenever I see it.” 

“Maybe I should give you more, then.” 

Your grin widened. “Please.”

“Mm?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Pretty please.” 

“Ok.” He bent once more, sucking a matching spot into your unmarked breast. Then he added another one beside it, and a third right in the middle of your sternum. 

“No more low cut tops, I guess,” you sighed, stifling a moan as he moved downwards with another. 

“Shame,” he murmured into your skin, “I love those low cut tops.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“I’d be insane not to.” 

You laughed, then gasped as he ran his hand up your thigh. 

“Relax,” he said. 

“I’m relaxed, I’m so relaxed.” 

“Your heartbeat says you’re lying.” 

“That’s for you,” you told him, meeting his eyes. “That’s what you do to me.” 

“And this?” His finger darted between your legs, sliding easily with how wet you were. 

“Yeah,” you gasped, “all for you.” 

He cursed softly, then lowered you gently onto the bed. He propped himself half over you, half beside you, his hand stroking down over your stomach, your hips, around your pelvis. 

“Please,” you moaned. “Sam, please.” 

“Please what?” 

“Touch me. Please,” you added as an afterthought. 

“Nice manners,” he noted, rubbing achingly slow circles over your clit. 

You gripped his arm, fingers digging into the muscle as he bent and resumed his assault on your breasts. 

“You take such good care of me,” he continued, his voice muffled slightly by your soft flesh. “You always take such good care of me.”

“Cause I love you,” you whispered. 

“Mhm, you gonna let me take care of you too?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Of course.” 

“Good.”

You whined at the loss of his fingers on your clit, then bit your lip to quiet what would have been a loud moan as he slipped the finger inside you. The heel of his hand ground against your sensitive bundle of nerves, his finger putting just the right pressure in just the right places. You’d be a mess in no time, and you both knew it. 

“Fuck, Sam,” you panted, your back arching as you chased the feeling. 

“Hm?” His chest was warm where it pressed against your side, the muscles of his arm rippling subtly under the skin where your fingers dug into him. His free hand stroked your shoulder, his mouth busy littering your chest with hickeys. You could feel him growing hard again against your thigh. 

“Fuck me?” you half asked, half offered. 

He grunted softly at your words, nodding. “Got a condom?” 

“Mhm, yeah, sure. One sec.” You reached over to your jeans, rummaging in the pockets until you struck gold. Or foil, you supposed. You watched as Sam tore it open and slid it on, as easily as if he was tying shoelaces. He’d gotten stupidly fast at putting the things on, courtesy of the whole “Dean could get back any minute so let’s just be as fast as we can” element you so often found yourselves dealing with. You weren’t complaining. 

“Ready?” he asked, positioning himself between your legs. You rocked your hips gently, feeling his hardness pressed against your dripping centre. 

He nodded, then softly slid inside you. You both gasped at the feeling, the familiar stretch and the warmth of it. It was like he was made for you, the way he fit. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, your fingers twisting in the duvet. 

“Alright?” he asked, and you nodded. 

“Move,” you urged him. He did, slow and gentle. The light was doing that thing with his hair again, and you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through it. Brush it off his forehead, kiss him there, smooth the faint worry line that seemed to be present more and more frequently. You’d do anything to make it disappear forever. 

“You feel so good,” he murmured, leaning forward to deliver more kisses to your chest. You were gonna have a whole forest of hickeys when you were done.  

“You feel good,” you replied. Your breath was coming short, a light sheen of sweat gathering over your skin even though you weren’t the one doing all the work. 

“Touch yourself,” he encouraged you, “I want you to cum while I’m fucking you.” 

“Shit, ok,” you replied, reaching down and running a finger in tiny circles over your clit. You loved how easily you could give and take control with him, how quickly and smoothly you could switch roles when you wanted to. It wasn’t just in bed, either, and you adored it. You adored him.

Your own hand combined with the steady thrusting of his dick was perfect. You weren’t going to last long, and judging by Sam’s shuddering breaths and muttered curses, your name sprinkled throughout, neither was he. 

“(Y/N), fuck,” he moaned, his abdominal muscles twitching and tensing. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you gasped as you felt the tightness coiling inside you, more, more, more– “Holy fuck, I’m gonna–” You released with a frantic cry of his name, your spine arching and your legs locking around his hips. You felt yourself contract around his dick, the stuttering of his strokes as he too reached his climax. 

He slowed eventually, coming to a stop as the tremors receded from your body and your brain returned to your head. You were spent, content to lie there with his warm, comforting weight on top of you until the world stopped turning. 

He rolled off you, peeling off the condom and tying it neatly before tossing it to the floor to be disposed of later. You turned to face him, your head resting on his bicep, his other arm draped over your side. His hand stroked your back, soft and loving. 

You smiled as you reached up, sweeping the hair from his face. “You good?” you murmured, cupping his cheek gently. 

He nodded, leaning forward to kiss you softly. You reciprocated, then stretched up and placed a kiss on his forehead. 

“How about you?” he asked. 

“I’m great.” Then you sighed, your thumb stroking tiny arcs across the curve of his cheekbone. “You’re so beautiful,” you whispered. 

“Look at you,” he answered. “You’re so beautiful.”  

You closed the few inches of space between you, pressing your lips to his. “I really do love you,” you said as you pulled away. “So much.” 

He smiled. “I know, I love you too. More than anything.” 

You went to kiss him again, but his phone buzzed and you froze. He groped for it blindly, frowning. You’d both learnt the hard way that if his phone went off and Dean wasn’t with you, it was best to check it. 

Sam snorted, flipping it around for you to see. 

The text, from Dean, was two sentences. “Back in 1/2 hour. Get decent.” 

“Screw you, Dean.” 

Sam laughed, tossing the phone to the side. “I guess we’ve got half an hour.” 

“I’m taking a shower then,” you said. “I saw a vending machine, like, right outside, and I really want a soda right now.” 

“I’ll get you a soda if you let me take the shower with you?” 

“Deal.” You held out your hand as if to shake on it, but he kissed it instead. Yeah, “gentleman” was definitely high up on that list. 

[saitamastamaticsoup]

Not to be dramatic but since hiori is blasian in canon I need black x readers asap🗣️ like we are DEF not getting any cultural background on this kid (because they just slid it in there like we weren’t gonna recognize in the first place)not that we have any background on any of these children’s parents but I think he should explain how he feels being mixed in Japan because it’s just really funny having these two in the exact same anime, and they are both black 

This is ABSOLUTELY hilarious 😭

Edit: so I’ve noticed a pattern of EVERY character looking like their mother and barely sharing any resemblance to their fathers so ig he gets a pass for being pale BUT there’s even more melaninated characters so let’s give him some sun too!!🥺

Respectfully; come the fuck on

[yuwuta]

cute nurse yuuta but also unhinged nurse yuuta, you see? nurse yuuta with cold fingers and needles. white rooms and white gloved fingers touching you. nurse yuuta who is making mental notes of every detail of your skin, your needs. and of course the short exchanged words. and who is mesmerized by how softly the needle pierces through your skin, by how you trust him. he's done it a thousand times before, it shouldn't be this special. the delicacy in which his body moves as to not make it any more uncomfortable than it already is. he wonders if he could make you drift away slowly, warmly falling deep into unconsciousness without notice. those thoughts trouble him often. it's tempting.

I always liked hospitals and nursers. And blood tests. It's definitely not the usual harmless Yuuta.

oh…….. the more often he has to graze your skin, to draw your blood, to check your temperature, the more he keeps thinking about how he almost wants to keep you under his care forever…. how he kind of wants to be the only person to have to care for you. 

and it’s not that he wants to hurt you to keep you there, he just wants to be the only one to touch you, he wants to be the only one you trust. and he wants to know everything about you, he knows the ins but he wants to see it affect your outside too. he knows your blood is warm in the vials, but how does it feel against your cheeks when you’re flustered? when you’re happy? when you’re scared? does your skin feel cold everywhere—where are you warm? he’s seen the graph of your heart on ECGs, but who does it beat for? can he make it beat for him? if he gave you part of him, would you keep it, would he be able to live inside of you? they’re very tempting thoughts; troublesome, but tempting….

[fatuismooches]

I love the hypothetical playable Reader and Dottore.... so I wanted to add my own thing to it :D the namecard!!!! It's a little boring but I like to imagine its foxttore with a lil butterfly reader on his nose...

And an outfit/costume for them!!!! Maybe either webttore and reader whos dressed in something matching!! or them from the akademiya... agdfaugsihdhoohdf im going insane im skittering across the floor and eating your carpet - 🐓

OH MY GOSH YES... THE NAMECARD RAHH!! Ahh that's so cute... There's a big Foxttore in the middle and the background also has rows of small Puffttores... :D bonus points if Foxttore is wearing Dottore's lil vial earring!! That'd be super cute! And the butterfly is perched all cutely on his lil nose, taking a rest from the world, while Foxttore just looks at it curiously (it would die for you)... <3

AND YES THE OUTFITS!! Okay veryyy self indulgent or whatever... but I imagine when reader becomes playable they get a redesign and their new outfit is composed of different things from the segments, small and only noticeable if you knew them but still there. Dottore's blue wearing hanging somewhere, a pink bow from Webttore hidden as well, uhh idk something from Zandy as well and maybe a little piece of Alpha's Akademiya uniform... >.< idk i just think it'd be super cute for them to carry a piece of the segments everywhere... yeah.

THE MATCHING OUTFIT IDEAS ARE ENDLESS... you two getting your uniforms modified like Lisa did... 😭❤️ (the idea of you two just randomly chilling in Sumeru with the uniform is KILLING me though. Other scholars approaching you two because they've never seen you around 😭. I think Alpha would be best suited for this because I don't think the other segments have any interest in going back there. 😭) rah just imagine... matching fancy ball outfits... mhm... Dottore having his crow/raven motifs while you have your sparrow/butterfly ones 🥰

[jadewritesficshere]

The boy is mine (Jade's edition)

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie has a plan for a romantic night, but things go awry (2k words)

Contents: Anxiety, Eddie is self deprecating, hurt/comfort (kinda), no gendered terms for reader except mention that their hand is smaller then Eddie's and reader is called beautiful, a literal fire (please look up fire safety), fluff

A/N: So I saw this the first day it was posted and I thought it was a fun idea and saved the prompt by @carolmunson. I've been writing this for a bit,, but like I have had such bad mental fog and generalized pain recently I have been having a hard time focusing...I think I kind of misinterpreted the rules a bit...so here is sad lump of a contribution. Call me Stitch the way I am telling myself "it may be little and broken but still good".

18+ only

The night had started well, at least Eddie thought it had. He promised you a romantic night in. He even prepped for it.

Eddie rented sappy love movies, getting advice by Harrington and Buckley surprisingly. Harrington stated flowers were the way to go, but then started arguing with Buckley. While entertaining, Eddie learned more about the languages of romance from Buckley then he did about romantic gifts. But he wrote down to get flowers.

So he watched the movies. And Eddie was high paid a lot of attention and basically learned to make a grand speech. Big pour out your heart moment. Which, he felt he always talked your ear off, so he could totally do.

Eddie then read those magazines all the cheerleaders gossiped and giggled over. He didn't learn much except some tips for the best kiss. Cup the person's cheek and lean in slowly. Build the suspense. Eddie could do that.

Give you flowers. Make a speech. Cup your cheek as he kisses you. Eddie had this in the bag! Each point written in his little notebook.

And then the reality of you coming to his trailer hit him when you called to confirm the date was still on that morning. He hung up the phone after flirting a bit and looked around his house. Nerves flooded his system as he looked at it with the perspective of an outsider. He didn't want it to look bad. And it was, well, it wasn't bad but definitely could be cleaner.

So Eddie had vacuumed and dusted the entire trailer. Tossed empty pizza boxes in the trash. Sprayed some cologne around the trailer to cover the scent of weed, then cursed himself for using the expensive cologne when there was a bottle of air freshener in the bathroom.

Had picked up his clothes scattered across his room and shoved them all, clean and dirty, into the closet. Had made sure his bed had more then one pillow, grabbing spare throw pillows and tossing them towards the headboard. Even if he didn't think there was a chance you would enter his bedroom tonight, he wanted to be prepared.

Eddie had even started dinner before you arrived. An easy roast that Wayne had made hundreds of times. Thrown meat, potatoes, onions, and carrots into the pot, seasoned it and thrown it all in the oven.

It was newer, this thing between you, and he wanted to get it all right. You'd been friends for years, just recently evolved into dating. It was easy to hold your hand and throw an arm around your shoulder before, stealing those small intimate moments and pretending it meant something more. But now it does mean more. Truly, it always had, but neither of you had said anything. Because like usual, Eddie was the coward and ran.

He spent what felt like minutes (it had been hours) looking back at the notes, the plan. He had even sketched some pictures of you and him as he studied. Gave himself some sweet new tattoos and piercings and muscles while you had hearts around your head. By the time he stopped rereading the same points over and over again, he realized you would be there within the hour.

And he already failed the first point, flowers. It had completely spaced him what with the studying, but he had other things he had been wanting to give you so he figured he could wing it. He rehearsed everything in his mind, having various conversations with you. He would take your coat, be charming as ever, and you would fall for him even more then you already had.

But the plan immediately left his mind when you had arrived. Eddie could feel his face flush as his eyes trailed up and down your figure. All the rushing thoughts in his head suddenly stopped. All he could think was Damn, how'd I get so lucky?

"You're beautiful." Eddie mumbled in awe as you had shrugged off your coat. And then you smiled and Eddie realized he had messed up the plan. He thought he had went through every variable but he hadn't. It wasn't you that was going to fall more in love with him tonight, but Eddie was going to fall more in love with you.

Eddie twirled a piece of hair around his finger, unable to meet your eyes. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and his palms were begin to sweat. He couldn't help but shift from foot to foot. "Oh I uh....got you something," Eddie smiled and turned to leave before hesitating and motioning to the couch," You can uh sit...or stand, standing is good too! I'll be right back."

Eddie cursed himself the whole time he walked away because of how stupid he was. He could stage elaborate campaigns but couldn't seem to form a single sentence in your presence. Eddie grabbed the gift off his dresser and inhaled slowly, mentally yelling at himself to be cool for once in his life.

And faltered in his steps.

Because you were sat on the couch. Not just on the edge of the cushion like those who he dealt to who couldn't wait to get out of his presence. No, you were fully relaxed into the cushion. You looked comfortable. You looked like you belonged.

And Eddie couldn't squash the butterflies that took flight in his stomach. And he sat on the cushion next to you, fighting the urge to wrap you in his arms and hold you close.

"I got you this," Eddie declared as he handed you a rock. A small, smooth stone that fit in the palm of your hand. Your mouth parted but no words came out. Eddie bit his lip as you slowly turned the stone over in your hands, staring at it.

"I saw it and I thought, well, I thought of you and it matches your eyes and-" Eddie huffed out a laugh and shook his head," Sorry, it's stupid just give it back."

Eddie moved to grab it out of your hand but you slapped at his arm and clenched the stone in your hand. "No, it's mine!" You held your hand to your chest and glared at him. "It's stupid," Eddie looked down. "It is not." "It is!"

"Are you serious? If you don't stop we're gonna have a problem. This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me." You beamed at him. Joy and adoration written clearly across your face. Eddie slowly grinned back as you dared to open your palm and look at the stone again. "My precious," you wiggled your eyebrows at him, making him bark out a laugh as he relaxed.

"Let's save a ring for a later date." He joked, even as his mind raced. You quoted Lord of the Rings! You were sitting on his couch holding a rock he thought was the same shade as your eyes and you liked it!! He was done for. Completely head over heels fallen for you. Said he would never marry yet here he was planning his vows and everything.

"Seriously, Eddie, this is so sweet." Your hand grasped his. Your hand was smaller then his, fitting perfectly. Fingers interlocked hesitantly and then more surely. Eddie's eyes fell to your lips. Your tongue darted out slightly and wet them. And he started to lean in.

The air was thick, and not just with the tension, the anticipation. Your lips were milliseconds to coming in contact with his when Eddie's nose twitched as he caught a familiar scent. Your lips landed on Eddie's cheek as he turned so quickly to face the kitchen he gave himself whiplash.

Thick smoke started to waft out of the room. "Oh fuck!" He jumped up as the smoke detector finally started doing its job and screeched out an annoying beep. Eddie ran into the kitchen with you hot on his heels.

Eddie opened the oven door, smoke billowing out," SHITshitshit-" Eddie cursed as he slammed the door shut, coughing slightly. Your hand reached past him to shut off the oven before darting over to the window and throwing it open.

Eddie's eyes darted to the sink below the window. Stop, drop, and roll- wait no that was if you were on fire. But water beats fire in almost every scenario, right? Except oil, shit did he add oil? No, he didn't add anything except the food and the seasoning so it should all be good right?

"Stand back!" Eddie yells over the screeching alarm. Grabbing the pot holders, he throws the oven door open. Smoke billows past him as he makes a mad dash for the pot, grasping the handles and throwing it in the sink. He throws the faucet on, water pouring over the burnt food and pot.

Steam billows up with smoke, mingling in the air before flowing out the window. A hissing sound from the cool water hitting the hot pot fills the air. You fan the flames towards the open window. "Oh fuck." You cough as your eyes fill with tears from the smoke. Eddie winces as flurried apologies fall from his lips.

The pot, not on fire at least, starts to lessen up on producing smoke. Eddie deems it safe to leave and grabs your hand, dragging you outside. His hands on your shoulders guide you to sit on the steps as you continue to intermittently cough. Eddie rushes back into the kitchen, double checking that the oven was off, and quickly grabs a mug holding it under the still running faucet.

Eddie rushes back outside to you, almost missing the step and face planting. And wouldn't that have been the icing on the cake. Would that make Eddie or the embarrassment of faceplanting be the vanilla frosting? Who even created that saying? Cake was good and this was not good. Eddie shook his head of these thoughts as he sank down on the step next to you.

Eddie hands you the mug of water. You drink it in big gulps, a small dribble of water falling out of the side of your mouth towards your chin. Eddie wipes it away with his thumb as he apologizes," I am so sorry, I don't even know what happened."

"Is this Garfield?" You peer at the mug, as if Eddie almost didn't kill you. "Uh yeah, was in a rush, sorry I didn't grab like a nicer cup. I just ran out...to you..." "Don't apologize, I like Garfield," you mumble taking another drink of the water.

"Are you okay?" Eddie asks, hands running up and down your shoulders, eyes checking you over. "Think I hacked up a lung from all the smoke...," you rub your sternum," Man, my lungs do not like smoke...and you like that?" Eddie let out a nervous laugh," Yeah no sorry, only when its weed. Never really inhaled a straight fire before."

You look up into Eddie's eyes that are full of concern. "Well, I'd recommend like not doing that. But I'm okay, it startled me more then anything," You give a soft smile. "You sure?" "Positive." You knock his shoulder with yours.

Eddie's eyes search your figure, ensuring you aren't lying to him. You ignore him, opting to set the mug down on the ground. Fingers brushing against a dandelion, yellow and bright. You pluck it from the ground and twirl it between your fingers.

You're okay. You're holding a dandelion and you're okay. You aren't acting like you hate him. You aren't making excuses and leaving. You aren't leaving like everyone else-

Eddie's shoulders relax as the tension leaves his body. You're okay. Your relationship is okay. He didn't ruin everything. You're smiling at a fucking dandelion while his heart feels like it has run a marathon.

You're oblivious to his plight as you lean over and tuck the dandelion behind his ear," Maybe don't smoke that. Looks pretty on you." "Not that kind of weed." "Yeah dumb joke sorry."

A slow exhale escapes him as he shakes his head,"No it's good I'm just," Eddie waves his hand in front of him," like what the fuck just happened? I am never cooking again. I'll just take you to Enzo's. I fucked up. Sorry for ruining the date."

Your hand cupped his cheek as you ducked down to meet his eyes," Hey, no. You didn't ruin the date." Eddie rolls his eyes slightly," Almost killing you? Yeah, pretty sure i ruined it." You bump your knee against Eddie's, "it's not ruined and you didn't almost kill me. Small food fire, happens to everyone. I lit popcorn on fire once. Besides, if you did happen to kill me, at least I would have died happy and in love. And you'd be stuck with me cause ghost me is absolutely haunting you."

Eddie can't help but laugh slightly," Oh? You think you'd be a ghost and not get another chance at life? Be reincarnated or whatever?" "Well, even if I was reincarnated, I'd find you again."

Eddie scoffs, "C'mon, don't say that.. That's not even true, you'd totally be able to move on. You wouldn't need little old me." You grab his face and peer into his eyes," Eddie Munson, I will always need you. In this life and whatever happens after. You and me? We're it. Maybe it should be too soon to say, but I feel it in my bones. You're it for me Eddie. Together now, forever, and when everything ceases to exist we'll be in nothing together. I will always be with you because I will always love you."

You lean in and Eddie thinks his heart stops. Your hand holding his cheek in place, thumb lightly brushing back and forth. His eyes flutter shut as your lips finally touch his. It was soft and sweet, lips slowly parting and melding together in a dance that sent shivers down Eddie's spine. He sighed into the kiss as you leaned closer into each other. Your hands threading through his hair, his wrapping around your waist. Lips moving in tandem, tongues darting out tentatively.

You only part when you both are gasping for air. Soft smiles and longing glances shared as the sun sets. "I love you too." Eddie traces your cheekbone with his finger. "You better." You joke. Your combined giggles fill the air as you continue to steal kisses from each other.

The night may not have been the most romantic. Or gone to plan, like, at all. But it was one Eddie already knew that when he thought about he would be able to feel his heart swell with love. And as he kissed you Eddie thought, yeah you were it for him.

[tleeaves]

The art is lovely and now I'm gonna ramble because that's what I do when I care about something.

For the love of women, please PLEASE can fan artists remember to add muscle to their Shadowhunter ladies? I'll commend Bowater for cleverly giving James that sculpted and lean look without making him a beefcake (nothing against beefcakes, I'd love to hug them), but Cordelia is once again suffering from Arms And Shoulders Too Slender It's Hard To Even Imagine Her Picking Up A Sword. There is some there, yes, but artists shouldn't be afraid of giving particularly Female Main Characters weight and toned muscle. Cordelia is supposed to be nearly the same height as James as far as I can remember, and she's curvy, and full, and she wields a sword like it's second nature to her. Please explain why she looks so tiny in James' lap.

Also I'm pretty sure marriage runes are supposed to go over the heart whenever possible (thinking about Will's parabatai rune being over his heart instead -- he didn't get Tessa to draw over the scar, did he??) and... either I'm looking at the picture wrong or James' rune is not over where his heart should be.

For the matter, where are their other runes and scars?? James' Voyance rune isn't even on his hand. And I'm pretty sure he's right handed. I could have that wrong though.

Another thing: no one can ever decide what Cordelia's hair looks like and it's the funniest thing to me. This is what happens when all you do is vaguely say the colour is like fire but also like rose petals but also a flowing river of those things but also is Red (probably for redhead, but then from there I never understand where the rose petal analogy comes from considering the typical rose is a deep bloody colour -- I do acknowledge the existence of those light orange varieties though which might more closely resemble red hair). In the end, I'm glad readers can infer what they want and imagine the characters how they like.

Anyone else think James looks like he's built like a tennis player? Oddly specific, maybe, but it was a thought I had. Mostly the arms and somewhat narrow body.

James' hair is nice, his eyes are an interesting take on gold in the shadows. Bowater managed to also make him look closely related to his father, so bravo for that.

In the end, the focus is obviously on the marriage runes and not other physical aspects outside of it being clear that this is James and Cordelia. Bowater's style is very beautiful and elegant. Love the way fabric and lighting is done too. I'll add also that it is possible to be a smaller person who is slender but still strong so I mean Cordelia's not necessarily done wrong, I just interpret her appearance differently. Obviously, they're both hot and they're both attractive and I have my qualms with the series, chronicles, and author -- the fandom I am so-so on, though I'm still here, aren't I? And I'm taking the time to ramble about my thoughts on a piece of fanart -- but this is good. Gorgeous, even. Both James and Cordelia are beautiful.

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Shadow Day 7

Gloom Hands

This goes out to the way I cackled hysterically once seeing these things in TOTK, well done Zelda Team. They're a terrifying concept and I really feel exploring that could be fun, even if this prompt gave me a headache and a half.

Bit late today because we've been pelted by way too many storms/lightning and writing on mobile with lightning shaking your house is generally a bad idea, so I spent most of the time writing this and the Linktober prompt by hand, then transcribing it back onto mobile as soon as I could touch eletronics without the major risk of being zapped and picking a god and praying that my internet wouldn't be too funky so I could get it out on time. Short one again though because I still need to finish the Linktober prompt so it should come out later today or fully tomorrow, sorry folks.

Anyway, as always can be read as romantic or platonic, also Sage is here both because of the prompt and because the mental image of Wild Reader and Sage trauma bonding over the extremely twisted nature Gloom/the Malice have compared to just dark magic in general in LoZ was too funny to resist, if Nintendo won't talk about the many variations of Dark Magic in LOZ and how it affects any who come in contact with it then lord darn it I guess I'll just have to do it myself (or as much as I can without breaking out the companion essay to the Realm of Darkness and Realm of Light essay which I'm already having trouble digging out).

TW:

Technically graphic descriptions of decay, gore and eldritch horror, and Reader just not having a good day in general, don't recommend reading I'd you're highly squeamish.

When you’ve first met Sage, as the Chain temporarily dubbed him, you and Wild didn’t miss the way he looked so, so haunted. Emotions warring like a storm as he looked Wild over in a mix of disbelief and the weariness of a wounded fox getting ready to bite just to escape, at the Chain with such longing ache that made one’s heart break, the way the first time he met Wolfie he didn’t hesitate to throw himself atop the canine and hug him so close like he was trying to melt into the fur, and looking at you like he didn’t know wether to cry, scream or to shut down before he buried it under the mask you knew your resident Champion could use when trying so desperately to keep it together, hands shaky as he signed in a way that set your teeth on edge and felt like you had taken a dozen of ice arrows to the back, urgent, 'It’s not safe. None of you should be here. You need to leave. Now.'

Needless to say it was alarming, even as you all knew just how ferociously untamed his and Wild’s Hyrule could be, with being overrun with so, so many types of divinity through each crack, root, drop and flesh of it’s beings. From Hylia’s cold calculating care, the Three Goddesses blood, tears and breath of life, to the Malice’s howling self sustaining fury, The Lost Woods ever overgrowing freedom and even the remnants of the Fierce Deity’s hunt in Satori’s and Malaniya's savage display of cyclic eternity, it wasn’t any surprised that apart from the Traveler’s Hyrule it was the most aggressive one with the smorgasbord of energy so thick it made even you choke on it everytime you stepped foot in it. Beautiful and free in an echo of it’s once untamed state in the age of myth even before Sky.

Over time, you and the Chain learned how to adapt to it. To listen to the warnings Wild gave about the Guardians and about the remains of Malice in his monsters, of how the moon had been forever tainted with it and how, until Sheikah tech was fully repurposed it would be best to avoid the castle all together it was difficult but manageable, and even if Sage’s reaction was alarming (and he seemed even more troubled once Wild passed onto him from Sky that, while he wasn’t to come with them yet due to how things were apparently ‘fated’ to happen, there was no way you all could leave quite yet, distantly sticking by Wild and Twilight when possible and checking on everyone’s health when not doing so), you’d though it would be much the same for his own, and in parts you were right as the Chain had taken to the new environment like fishes to water even if it took some adjustments.

Though you were quickly proven wrong, and you could have laughed at your past self’s naivety.

It was meant to be a quick run to clear a black blooded monster camp, and while decently challenging, it was over quickly between the Chain getting more apt at fighting the enemy, Sage’s addition as the man fought as ruthlessly and ferociously as Wild, switching between deadly marksmanship and feral combat on a dime and the absence of the unnaturally inteligent black scales lizalfos, you’d rest and be on your way quickly. Or so you all thought.

Twilight had been the first to smell it, the bubbling of dark but distinctively twisted magic, even more so than Zant’s brand of madness. Wild the one to spot it, the rot black and blood crimson building up at the edges of camp from his vantage point but it was Sage who had tensed, eyes snapping to the faint glow the Master Sword emmited just as the sky darkned before his frantic, alarmed howl swept over the Chain, the sheer desperate, protective panic making all of your boys still, because Sage never used his voice unless he absolutely had to, “IT'S NOT OVER! MOVE!”

It was all the warning any of you got before reality twisted, straining, and then finally screaming, the heavens staining with crimson as if gutted open, the eyes of a sin against nature itself cutting through your relief and infecting your veins with terror. It shakes you to the core, freezing with indecisive flight or fight as you spotted the tide. Heart in your throat as you tried to comprehend what you saw.

“WHAT THE-“, Legend cursed, looking ashen as his grip on his fire rod tightened. Really, all of your heroes look disturbed and you can’t blame them.

“Get to high ground if you want to live! We can’t fight these things.”, snapped Sage, much more composed, but no less frenzied.

None of you hesitate to listen.

(There were some unspoken rules, when in Wild’s Hyrule the first time around. If there is something the Champion, the most reckless of all Links, wasn’t willing to fight head on or said wasn’t worth it, the best course of action was to listen, specially if the group was vulnerable.)

The hands screech, the tide rolling over the land with an reality splitting clamoring, a sound so filled with fury and so, so twisted it made your Hylian’s ears friends bleed and you lift a hand to your head in pain as Wild pulled you along, Sage leading the charge for the nearest cliff face as Warrior’s threw Wind over his shoulders and Twilight didn’t hesitate before doing the same to Four, the frost from Legend and bomb arrows from Time and Sky barely doing nothing to slow it’s relentless charge, merely taking from it a distorted, pitched crescendoing belt of pure rage and the overlaying of many tortured souls screaming all at once, of Hyrule rejecting this existence from the world but wounded at being unable to vanquish it, the sound it makes as it spreads and drags itself across the ground with uncanny speed with it’s many, many arms like something in between sludge and smacking, wet, rotten flesh.

Sage switches between shooting arrows to helping the other Links up the cliff and shooting at it’s eyes with the strongest bow he has,making as many arrow fusions on the spot as he dares. The others quickly taking as many ranged weapons from their sides to do the same. You help Hyrule up the clifface, while Wild swipes Cryonis over the field, climbing up himself, being hauled to Sage’s side.

You are almost there when one of the hands latch onto your ankle, and you go down with a scream, Sage all but dropping the bow in his hand in favor to latching onto your hand with snarl. And

It.

Is.

Agony.

(It burns through you like your very atoms have been set on fire,bthe hands take the opportunity to sink into you, long long unnatural fingers sinking into your flesh in a unhurried blanket of darkness, the Demon King’s will is roaring, growling with abyssal rage, if it cannot rule Hyrule, it would kill everything in it instead. Gloom sinks into your cells, raptures the membranes and makes the skin slip, frantically invading, you taste rotten flesh on the back of your throat and the scent of wither and ash choke you as it sinks into your flesh, marrow, breaks down your bones bit by bit, cracking and infecting and breaking down your very essence with the fury of a dead deity which refused die, decay on an accelerated rate all over where the hands clutched like a vice as the Links trunfo pull you out or attack it and it is painful and it’s excruciatingly wretched and make it STOPCEASEITHURTS-)

A well aimed Skyward Strike severs the connection, the pain stops and you fall into Sage, breathing hard and unevenly, grasping at him like a lifeline, clawing and counting at Wild’s arm on your other side like a wounded animal, your taste blood on your throat from the screams that were ripped from it, Hyrule falling to his knees on your side as healing magic washes over you like a shroud, trying to get you to respond.

Reality howls along with you, before all is silent.

It barely took a second.

“... Just what were those things?”, rasps Sky, horrified, a sentiment echoed through the Chain, though you can’t focus on it, trying not to choke on your own blood and to pull yourself together, Wild’s hand unconsciously settling on your pulse, shaking, and Sage’s tense tone cuts through the air as he scans the area. Still tense, tone hoarse.

“... The reason why I wanted you to leave.”

Later, much, much later, before you all leave, you learn they are called Gloom Hands.

It’s unanimously agreed that all you hold loathing for those abominations, even long after you’re forced to leave Sage.

He whispers something to Wild on the way out, hugging him close, trembling. Your Champion nods, you can’t make out the words, but you make sure to hold him as close as you can before you go, indulge him in checking for your pulse even long after you’re healed.

You hope he’ll be safe, he hopes that the next time you all see each other again, it’ll be under better circumstances.

[voidcat]

Okay wait hear me out-

A fungal type kaiju that releases its spores upon death but on humans it has a sex-pollen like effect

[katasstrophy]

okay but what if the only reason rin and sae are (forced against their will) to be (somewhat) civil with each other in their adult years is because their gfs are ride or die besties that would rather leave their (petty) asses than compromise their friendship