#the ending was a bit abrupt

[ladyantiheroine]

Y’all, Monkey Man is really good.

[a-wondering-thought]

The end of Austen books always makes me laugh a bit because its just like, yeah some people got married, some other people got outcasted from society forever, this person died, no we cannot unpack any of that, no more dialog i cannot write any more of that

[sleepyslag]

15 Years of Dan and Phil 🧡

Baby, not a day goes by that I'm not into you <3

[kiaraalazulu]

just finished the blue lions route, I love this guy

inspired by this shirt I saw the other day:

[awkness]

No Man is an Island

(Paternal Platonic Yandere oc & Injured Teenage Genderneutral Reader)

You and a small group of people are left stranded on an island, struggling to survive. One member of the group, Henry, has grown a paternal attachment towards you and has taken on the task of caring for you, but are his intentions truly as benevolent as they seem, or is there something much more selfish behind them?

Content warnings: injury, plane crashes, talks car accidents, coma, and child death, and general yandere shenanigans

Authors Note: This is much more chill then what I usually write. Don't be fooled, though, this dude is still messed up lol

You were on a plane alone, flying back to see your parents when the plane begins to experience severe turbulence. The captain tries to reassure everyone that things are under control, but it only gets worse. It feels like you're in the middle of an earthquake. Oxygen masks fall from the ceiling, and you can barely put yours on before blacking out

You wake up to a horrible, throbbing pain in your leg, and a sticky, humid feeling everywhere else

You're near the shoreline of the beach, a canopy of tropical trees shielding you from the sun. Turning your head, you could make out the main wreckage of the plane. There's a crudely made splint on your left leg, which is swollen and covered in bruises. There are no people in sight

Panicking, you start yelling, trying to find someone, anyone to help you understand what's happening

A middle-aged, gruff looking man comes from the wreckage. He introduces himself as Henry and helps you calm down before explaining the situation to you

The plane had crashed on an unihabited island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, an unknown distance away from the mainland. All of the crew were dead, and most of the passengers were as well. The only people who survived were you, Henry, and no more than ten other people, all variously injured

None where as injured as you, though. Henry says that you had most likely broken your left fibula and tibia when the plane crashed. As the bone hadn't broke through your skin, he says that it should heal on its own, but it would take months, most of it spent on bed rest

The first few days were the roughest. You spent your time in a haze of pain and heat from the brutal and humid temperatures from the island. It was hard to make yourself eat, and you often felt like you never had enough to drink, as your group had decided to ration the fresh water and food that was scavenged from the crash

The other survivors didn't interact with you often. It wasn't on purpose, but they were too busy working to make this place temporarily habitable, and they had no time to think of an injured person who couldn't help them. Plus, you weren't much for conversation anyway, given your current state

The only person you did see regularly was Henry. He checked on you often throughout the day, acting much like your self-appointed doctor. He seemed to have a basic understanding of what medical care to provide you, though, so you weren't about to protest

His bedside manner was good as well, knowing when you were in too much pain to make conversation and when you were lucid enough to want company. He was your only source of companionship for those first few days, being the one to bring you your daily rations of airplane pretzels and coconut water and make sure you were eating.

Whether it was the pain subsiding or you simply adjusting to it, you began to pull yourself out of your pain driven stupor and started talking to Henry more, out of the pure loneliness and boredom of your situation

He was very easy to talk to despite his outwardly serious and borderline intimating disposition. As you talked to him more, you found him to be friendly and a bit corny, occasionally cracking a stupid dad joke or pulling light-hearted pranks on you. He seemed fairly competent at reading people, able to sense your loneliness, and often encouraging you to open up whenever he had the chance to talk

You didn't know if it was out of genuine interest or pity for your circumstances, but you found you couldn't refuse his company. Before you knew it, you started oversharing about your life. Within the next two weeks, he knew pretty much every major thing about you, from your family, your hobbies, where you lived, what your future goals and aspirations were, and so on

On the other hand, he seemed more reluctant to open up, often getting quiet or withdrawn when your questions got too personal, with what constituting 'personal' varying. You eventually picked up that something troubling must of happened to him in his past involving his family, so you stopped pushing, letting him bring up his past on his own time

Outside of superficial facts about him, the only thing you knew was that he was a former US Army Special Forces survival expert, which was how he knew how to treat your injury, and how he knew how to survive on the island

When you were feeling well enough, he would teach you some of survival knowledge he had, teaching you different fire starting methods, how to build a lean-to, and how to crack open a coconut to get the milk. He seemed rather anxious about watching you wield his knife, though, so he did that for you when he could

Things take a turn for the better as the group finds decent shelter that isn't the plane wreckage in the form of uninhabited caves in the heart of the island, along with a waterfall spouting drinkable water

Some are reluctant to leave the shoreline, as the group had taken to maintaining a bonfire there to hopefully signal passing planes or boats for help. A compromise was reached where they would move to the caves and would continue to maintain the fire in shifts

The trek towards the caverns was especially hard on you. The rest of the survivors had gone ahead to carry the supplies to the caverns, leaving Henry to guide you through the thick foilage and uneven terrain

Henry had given you a walking stick to aid your journey, but because of your prolonged bedrest, there were often times you had to be carried, making the journey a slow and tedious one. You apologized, but he brushed it aside, saying he didn't mind, as he often had to carry much heavier loads in the army. He then went on to tell you cherry picked stories from his time in the military to distract you until you reached the caves

He had decided that it would be best for you to sleep near him, in case you needed assistance or if there was an emergency. His reasoning seemed sound, and you were inclined to trust him after all this time, so you agreed

With this newfound stability, things finally seemed to slow down, as people weren't constantly threatened with death by starvation, dehydration, or exposure

This was also the time that the other survivors began to talk to you more regularly

It was how you learned that Henry had become the defacto leader of sorts, given he was the most qualified out of the group. People often came to you to see if he was there whenever they needed him, asking you to pass messages along to him when he wasn't there. Which was pretty often, given how he was usually the person to help gather food or scout out new parts of the island

It was after one of these outings that you began to learn more about him

It had been a rainy, stormy day, which made the groups whole mood sour. Henry was out with a small group to gather food, and you were with the rest of the survivors, hanging out in the main cave

It was easy to overhear conversations in the main cave, noise often bouncing about the walls. It's how you and the rest of the people in there were forced to listen to a heated conversation developing between two of your members

Apparently, one of the more toublesome people of your group had been caught stealing from one of the other members of the cave. Their talking turned to arguing, and the arguing became shouting, which became shoving, which was steadily growing more violent by the second

Some had tried to break up the fight while everyone else had managed to move away except you, who could only slowly hobble away

A fellow survivor was trying to usher you away when someone knocked into you, causing you to fall and hit your head on the cavern floor. You lost consciousness

When you woke, the first thing you noticed was the pain in your head, throbing like a pulse. The second was that you were back in your bed (if you could call a platform of crushed bamboo and palm leaves a bed), a blanket tucked to your chin. The third were the footsteps of Henry as he came over to kneel beside you, his face creased in thought and worry

He then went to question you on how you were feeling, if you knew who you were, if you remembered what happened, as well as checking your eyes and testing your muscles and general coordination

It was only after he was satisfied you didn't have any severe brain injury that he finally relaxed and explained what happened

After you were knocked unconscious, the fighting had stopped, and you had been taken back to your part of the cave to be taken care of as they waited for Henry and his group to arrive

The conversation then faded into silence, as you were too caught up in your pain to keep talking. You closed your eyes and laid back down

It wasn't until later that night that you finally noticed that Henry was still in the room, watching you, face blank and motionless as if he were in another world. You've never seen him look that way before

You nudge him and he startles, completely caught off guard, apologizing for worrying you

You ask him what's wrong, and instead of brushing your question off like he usually does, he hesitates before going on to speak about the family he used to have, a wife and a child, who he loved dearly. One day, they ended up in a car crash. He lived with minimal injuries, but his wife died, and his child ended up brain dead with no hope of recovery. He had kept the child on life support for months before finally pulling the plug

"When I was waiting for you to wake up, it was like I was back in the hospital, hoping beyond hope that a miracle would happen, and I would see them open their eyes again... Y'know, it's the craziest thing. While I was watching you, I kept thinking about how they would've been your age if they were still here. They would of looked just like you."

You apologize, unable to think of anything else to say. He waves it off and tells you not to mind what he said and to go to bed. He was still sitting and watching you as you fell asleep

About five months after the crash, when the group had started to lose hope of there being a rescue, someone had spotted a plane flying across the night sky

Everyone scrambled to strengthen the bonfire on the shore, yelling at the sky in a desperate attempt to be noticed

With Henry's help, you made your way to the fire as well, propping yourself up with a walking stick to keep your weight off your broken leg, waving your free arm to the sky as you joined in the shouting

But it didn't matter. The plane flew away, disappearing into the dark

Some people cried, others flew into a rage, and the rest didn't say a word. Eventually, people slowly made their way back to the caves, disheartened at their loss

After a few hours, it was just you and Henry left on the shore, the dying embers of the fire next to you as you both stared at the sky. He seemed content

You break the silence and ask him if he thinks there will ever be another opportunity for rescue

"I don't know, but I doubt it. With how long it's been, that plane probably wasn't searching for us. We probably won't see another one anytime soon."

"You don't sound too broken up about it" you say.

"I guess I'm not. If you can overlook the heat, this place ain't half bad. Fresh seafood, clean water, a built-in shelter, and 24/7 access to my own private beach. Shit, I don't even have to pay taxes anymore, either. This is the closest thing to paradise I'll ever find."

"You can't mean that, right? We can't stay here forever."

"Of course we can. We have everything we could need. Plenty of people have lived in worse places."

That's not what I mean, what about my family? I want to go home!

The mention of your family leaves him stunned, like he forgot they existed. He quickly regains his bearings and continues

"I don't mean to make you upset, kid, but I think you're misunderstanding me. I know it hurts now, but there's nothing stopping you from living a happy life here. You've got food, a roof over your head, and someone to take care of you, what more could someone ask for?"

You don't reply. Sensing your darkening mood, he offers to help walk you back, and you accept, both of you slowly making your way through the foilage in silence

You fail to notice that the fire was left unattended and how it had slowly died out, leaving the island invisible to any help that could pass by

The next morning, no one bothers to reignite the fire

Afternoon rolls around and Henry leaves, going to fish for your next meal. You pray it isn't sea cucmbers again

Someone comes up to you, asking for some cordage they had lent to Henry. Instead of waiting for him to come back, you decide to search for it yourself

You search his part of the cave and almost give up before spotting a bag hidden in a crevice of the cave. It was so well hidden, you're afraid you might lose sight of it if you turn away. What could he have in there? You're almost certain Henry wouldn't keep rope tucked so far out of sight. But you couldn't help your curiousity. You've been in here countless times, how didn't you notice this? Against your better judgment, you open the bag

You don't find the cordage

Instead, inside the small bag is the bright orange of a flare gun and several unused flare cartridges

[herenya-writes]

To Kneel at Your Feet

So, uh, I tried my hand at a little Dreamling fic when a particular image wouldn't get out of my head.

~1850 words, Rated T (violence, non-graphic injuries, a bit of foul langauge), pre-relationship Dreamling set a few months after Dream escapes the fishbowl but before he's told Hob who he is

When a shadow fell over him, Hob figured he was fucked. Well, even more fucked than he already had been.

The day had started pretty normal. Term was over for the summer, and he had finally finished the last of the marking the night before, so he had let himself laze in the sunny patches of his bed until almost noon when the grumbling of his stomach drove him to the kitchen for food. The rest of the day had been syrupy slow, with a light frisson of anticipation running through. He was meeting his Stranger tomorrow morning for brunch, their first pre-evening meeting and the fifth one they had had since his Stranger had returned. So it was with a spring in his step that he had gone through the rest of the day, chatting with Mrs. Giles up the road about whether he could buy a few cases of her jam to serve at the Inn, taking a stroll around the park, mixing up a batch of scones. When Sasha called in sick, he had gladly picked up their shift bar-tending at the Inn, and even that had been lovely. A faster pace than the rest of his day, sure, but the night had been full of familiar faces and easy laughter.

He had been closing up the Inn and wiping down the last of the tables when the bell above the door rang. He didn’t get out so much as a word before the bullets were flying.

He managed to dodge them for a good while, but even his immortal body got tired of crouching and diving eventually. Plus, there were three of them, all armed, and only one of him. He had a bat and an array of knives behind the bar and an assortment of weapons in his flat above, but he didn’t see how he could get to either of those places unscathed. He’d survive, of course, but that could cause even more problems depending on how smart these thugs were.

His next dodge had been a bit too slow, and as he slid behind the sturdy oak of one of the booths a bullet buried itself in his shoulder. He snarled at the pain and pressed a hand to the wound on instinct. His immortality meant he’d survive no matter how many times these assholes shot him, but it didn’t stop him from feeling the bite of metal burrowing into his flesh.

It was as he was leaning against the wood, listening for footsteps and considering his options that a shape blocked the light above him. He swore and held up an arm to guard his face on instinct, but when he looked up it wasn’t one of the thugs he saw.

In the muted light of the Inn, his Stranger stood, clothed as always in his black coat, jeans, and boots, a minuscule frown pulling at his lips.

Without thinking, Hob grabbed the hem of his Stranger’s coat and yanked him down. His Stranger went, and a millisecond later bullets soared through the air where he had been standing.

“Sorry, friend. You chose a dangerous time to stop by,” he gasped. He had grabbed his Stranger with his left arm, and the bullet wound in his shoulder was protesting loudly.

His friend’s face took on a pinched expression, brows furrowing in a way that would have been adorable in another situation.

“You are injured,” he observed, his voice deep and rumbling like distant thunder. Hob could listen to that voice all day, and despite the circumstances he could feel his heartbeat slowing at just those three words. “You are not healing as you should.”

Hob blinked and looked down. Damn, his Stranger was right. One of the side effects of his immortality was that any injuries he sustained healed rapidly. Serious stuff like disembowelment still took a long (and excruciatingly painful) time to heal, but the process happened much faster for him than a normal human. He had been stabbed in a knife fight once in his second century of living and by the time the other fellow had hit the floor the only evidence of the wound had been the blood on his skin and the tear in his shirt. A bullet hole should have shown evidence of closing by now, but it was still gaping open and bleeding freely.

“At least I won’t have to cut the bullet out later,” he joked, but the tremble in his voice ruined his attempted levity.

“There are very few weapons in this world or another that could harm you so,” his Stranger declared, and something like lightning flashed in his eyes. His expression turned stone cold, and in a fluid movement he rose to his feet and turned toward the gunmen. Hob scrambled up after him, biting back curses, but he stopped short when he realized there weren’t any bullets flying through the air.

In the space of a blink, all the shadows in the room seemed to lengthen and gather around his Stranger, and Hob swore he saw recognition begin to dawn on the face of the lead thug as his Stranger stepped forward and extended one pale arm.

“Servants of the Morningstar, by what edict do you walk the Earth and seek the life of one to whom Death has denied her gift?” His Stranger’s voice buzzed with barely-restrained power, and something deep in Hob’s human brain told him to run and hide. He stayed where he was, though, and so did the gunmen, even as they trembled in obvious fear.

“Dead or not, the glory of claiming an immortal’s head for Lucifer’s throne room is undying,” the one in the middle declared. Hob was almost impressed with how even their voice was.

“You have attacked him in his home, unarmed and unaware of your challenge. There is no glory here, hellspawn.” His Stranger spat the word ‘glory’ like it was vinegar on his tongue, and all three creatures (he had thought they were human, but now he could swear an outline of fire flickered around them) recoiled. Still, they didn’t flee.

“He is unclaimed, Dreamlord. Glory or not, he’s ours for the taking!”

The shadows in the room deepened impossibly, and the air pressure dropped fast enough that Hob’s ears popped and every hair stood on end. His Stranger took a menacing step forward, standing directly between him and the gunment now. When he spoke, the power in his voice shook the floorboards and set Hob’s very bones buzzing.

“Is that so? Allow me to correct that oversight.”

His Stranger threw back his coat, and it melted into a midnight black robe. The folds of the fabric were ablaze with swirling galaxies that seemed to spill into the shadows that surrounded him. The power radiating off him now was equal parts strange and familiar, like hearing a song for the first time but immediately knowing the chorus. Any unease Hob had felt settled at once, even as the gunmen began to quiver and keen in dismay. His Stranger spoke over their sounds of distress, his voice firm and unyielding. In that moment, Hob had no doubt that he could make any declaration and reality would bend itself to reflect his will.

“I, Dream of the Endless, Shaper of Forms, Oneiromancer, Prince of Stories, King of the Dreaming and Nightmare Realms, declare Hob Gadling to be under my protection. Harm him and know the unfettered wrath of the Dreaming.”

Hob had been a lot of things in the past 600-plus years. He’d tried his hand at just about everything that had held his attention for longer than a week, and he had even been decent at a fair chunk of it. Hell, he’d even been knighted once! Right now, he probably had enough wealth squirreled away in stashes across the world to keep him living comfortably for the next two hundred or so years. At his core, though, he was nothing more than a peasant.

His knee hit the floor before his Stranger even finished speaking, and he barely felt the way the movement shocked his still-bleeding shoulder. All he could do was gaze up at his Stranger, awe, in the oldest sense of the word, flooding him. Dream of the Endless. His Stranger had a name. His Stranger was a king.

He wasn’t sure what happened with the thugs after that. There was a moment when the Inn got so dark all he could see where the pinpoints of light in his Stranger’s eyes and the galaxies swirling in his robe, and the next the light had returned and his Stranger had turned that fathomless gaze on him.

He lowered his eyes. “My king.” His tongue was heaving in his mouth, and his throat was sand paper. There was a spit of crimson blood, his blood, on the hem of his Stranger’s robe.

“You would kneel and call me king? Even after the wrongs I have committed against you? I did not even grant you the courtesy of my name.” Power still rumbled in his Stranger’s voice, but it was leashed now in a way that sent a spark racing up Hob’s spine. God help him, but he had always loved a bit of danger.

He risked a glance up and saw his Stranger’s perfect lips twisted in a frown, his brows drawn together like Hob was a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out.

“I don’t need anything from you that you aren’t ready to give, my friend. You came back to me, and that was more than I could ever hope for.” Those words strayed a bit too close to another truth—that he would have waited forever just for a glimpse of his Stranger’s face, just to hear a single word from his lips—but Hob wasn’t about to start lying now, not when this magnificent creature, this otherworldly lord, had deemed him worthy of his time and attention despite all odds. His Stranger had returned after over 100 years to sit in a pub and listen to Hob ramble about airplanes and smartphones and humanity reaching the moon. How could anything he had to say possibly have captured the attention of a king with no doubt a million other duties to attend to?

His Stranger regarded him, galaxies swirling in his black eyes to match the ones dancing across his robe. Hob tore his gaze back to the floor for fear of falling in.

“Rise. You owe me no servitude or obeisance, Hob Gadling.”

Hob wanted to disagree, but he kept his mouth shut and did as his lord bid. He bit back a growl of pain as he stood, and in a blink his Stranger was there, long arms wrapped around his shoulders and holding him up with unnatural strength. Together, they hobbled up the stairs to his flat, and his Stranger laid him gently on the couch and let Hob grip his hand too tightly as he dug out the bullet lodged in his shoulder, seemingly uncaring of the way the crimson blood stained his pale fingers.

[mammalsofaction]

HUMAN PERRY AU BACKSTORY

I've been having a lot of thoughts lately about Human Perry headcanons as I read a bunch of fic and rewatch phineas and ferb. You know you're hitting the nail on the head when scenes from a fic you might never write dog your every waking step and haunts your dreams so, I thought putting it on paper will help.

A lot of fics like to suggest that Perry's full name is Peregrine, which is understandable, but ever since I've rewatched 2D and found out their first name for him was actually Bartholomew my life was never the same. So Perry's actual name is Bartholomew. But nobody actually calls him that least of all himself.

FAMILY RELATIONS

-I really like winding headcanons that Perry is Ferb's biological mom's BROTHER, which honestly makes so much sense as to why both he and Ferb have green hair. Here are some add-ons that may get depressing;

Ferb's mom was Eve, or Evelyn. Her codename was E, for Echidna...because egg-laying mammals native to Australia. They were both orphans, and attached to the hip. They were each other's partner in crime.

-They were scouted for OWCA one day, bc the agency liked picking up kids with potential as young as possible. So Perry and Eve were trained for the agency since the start (which is why Perry is such a good agent at what seems to be a young age)

MY HEADCANONS FOR OWCA

-Owca is a largely independent authoritarian enterprise with branches all over the world. They aren't the only ones, obviously.

-OWCA also prefers training agents as early as they could. Sometimes that entails scouting talent. Sometimes that means taking in kids of employed agents. Either way, this means OWCA has elementary and high schools that are more akin to militant training camps. It's not cruel. The kids are well cared for and well fed, but OWCA prioritized competency, obedience and discipline.

On every level of OWCA recruitment, training and employment, there is a fedora, and band to mark whichever level you are on the totem pole.

1) Middle school kids are given a bandless fedora.

2) High school kids (soon to be graduates) are given a white band

3) Fresh graduates, training into full employment, are Yellow Bands. Here you start being assigned to full branches, and trained by field work professionals. Think OWCA Files.

4) It's fairly easy to graduate from Yellow Band into a Purple Band. Purple Bands are largely refereed to as Junior Agents, but that's not quite accurate. Purple Bands are the highest reporting authority in any division that ISN'T FIELD WORK. The OWCA Tech, Clerks, RnD and Science Divisions all have Purple Bands to signify they are fully employed, or Superior Officer. Pinky has a Purple Band.

5) It's VERY DIFFICULT to graduate from a Purple Band to a Black Band, not least because there IS NO PREDETERMINED TEST. Black Band agents are Superior Agents, only one level below Division General. There's no telling what could turn you from a Purple to a Black, because the agent has to prove unwavering obedience and faith to the agency in dire circumstances. It's saying "I am willing to do anything for the Greater Good."  Often it entails a death of some sort. OWCA often says Black is the band soaked in blood. Black Band agents have licenses to kill. It's why Black Band Agents are few and precious far in between.

6) After a black band, and you live long enough to retire, you can choose a bunch of things. Most agents choose to become Division Generals or Branch Managers: think Major Monogram. They're basically glorified "Guy in the Chair". Some agents choose to become educators, in which case they are given White Fedoras. White fedoras arent exclusive to black bands though; there are plenty purple band white fedoras. In fact most educators are purple band white fedoras.

-Perry's Black Band Event was Eve's death

-At the time of Eve's death, she had already been married to Lawrence. Ferb was barely a year old, maybe 10 months old?

-Lawrence was told it was a car accident: drunk driver. Truthfully it was a mission gone wrong, involving an underground child trafficking ring, and she stayed behind to give them all the chance to escape. She didn't have the chance to escape when security explosives around the building detonated, and she got caught in the crossfire. Perry had to leave her behind.

-This is why Perry refused to get a partner btw, aka his Lone Wolf tendencies come from.

-In the aftermath, OWCA agents approached the family to give them their condolences, and offer to take Ferb into the fold. For the first time since Eve's death, Perry practically lost it. He didn't hurt anyone, he's much too professional, but he knew Eve didn't want Ferb to get wrapped up in OWCA, and for good fucking reason. Due to their training, neither he nor Eve had much of a childhood, and he refused to subject Ferb to the same kind of life experience.

OWCA was NOT happy. Things were tetchy for a while, at least until Perry was approached by Major Monogram. Francis had a wife, and a son, and he understood where Perry was coming from. He suggested taking a permanent residence in Danville, which was his branch division. It was more stability than Perry ever had working in England, where he and Eve was originally stationed, and it was easy enough to come up with a work-related story to convince Lawrence, who was more than ready enough to leave the house where he and Eve originally lived.

-It was after moving did Lawrence meet and fall in love with Linda.

Edit; I've decided to change Ferb's bio mom's name bc I found something that fits better to me :) She's Eve now

End Backstory.

[littleoddwriter]

Can I request Billy Lenz (1974) x reader fic (established relationship) where, since reader is probably a sorority girl, she asks Billy if he wants to move into her house with her (there’s an attic ofc) since she’ll be forced to move out beacuse she’s in her last year?

Not Without You | Billy Lenz x Female!Reader

Hey there! Thanks for the request, I hope you like what I've done with it! And thank you for waiting patiently for it. I may be slow in fulfilling the requests, but at least they're coming eventually... <3 notes; Female!Reader (can be read as Gender Neutral tho, it's mostly because of the setting being a sorority dorm house, but there are no words or indicators that wouldn't allow for anyone else to read this without problems!); Short Fic; Established Relationship; Kissing with Tongue; Brief Mentions of Murders.

“You know I’m about to graduate, right?” you asked Billy, while you were sitting cross-legged on the attic floor, facing your boyfriend. He was huddled in the corner and the moonlight shone through the window, illuminating him enough for you to make out his shape and half of his face. You could see that your words upset him.

He nodded jerkily, making a soft sound of distress.

“Yeah, so… I was wondering if you’d wanna move into my house with me, then?” you continued, “It also has an attic if you’re more comfortable that way. I don’t expect you to sleep in the same bed with me or anything like that if you don’t want to. But… I’d love to at least continue living in the same building with you…” 

There was a certain sense of caution to your inquiry. Not because you were afraid of him. Never. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you on purpose. But you were worried that maybe you had read too much into your relationship and his current distress. Maybe he was only with you because you lived in the sorority dorm house, after all; and perhaps he was only upset about you leaving because you steadily provided him with basic needs and more, forcing him to find somebody else. It scared you that by bringing up that you were moving out in a few months, the reality of your relationship’s nature would come crashing down on you. 

Billy suddenly leaned forward and grabbed your hand tightly. That action startled you for a moment, but you instantly relaxed when you looked at his hand grasping onto yours like it was his lifeline. And when your eyes travelled up to his face, you smiled softly. Your anxious thoughts disappeared as soon as you saw how grateful and in awe he looked.

“Is that a yes?” you asked him quietly with a teasing edge to your voice.

He nodded almost frantically in answer. “Yes,” he said shakily, “I wouldn’t have let you leave. Not without me. Not without Billy. Never without Billy!” 

Now it was time for you to startle Billy as you leaned in and pulled him into a tight, loving embrace. He froze for a split second before melting into your arms and returning the hug with force, almost crushing your ribs between his arms. You couldn’t really breathe anymore, but he loosened his grip soon enough for you to not even be forced into saying something. 

As his arms loosened around you, you leaned back a little to look at his face. For a moment, you simply looked at him, admiring his features in the soft moonlight along with the contrast of the harsh shadows due to the otherwise dark attic. To you, he was almost an ethereal being. 

With a soft smile, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Billy’s lips. 

He reciprocated it with a fiery passion that you only knew him to be capable of, and you loved it more than you could put into words. His tongue slipped out and licked your lips as you two kissed, making it a lot messier than it needed to be; but you were used to it by now, and you were never one to complain about being wanted so fiercely.

Eventually, you leaned back, parting from him enough to speak. 

“I’m looking forward to living with you and not having to sneak around just so you won’t be caught,” you whispered against his spit-slick lips with a quiet little giggle in your voice before kissing him again, eliciting a soft grunt from Billy, who grinned in response.

[chthonic-kids]

DEPARTURE by Alan Wake

[spilledmilkfkdies]

Hi, me again! I was just wondering, following the ‘what if the wizards were actually surrendering’ ask, if the wizards really did give up fairy hunting, what do you think they’d do? (Sorry if I’m sending you too many asks, I just really like your takes.) Thank you!

Hiii sorry it took me a sec to get to this one!! I'll put a link to that ask right here for anyone who's wondering, since it's been a bit. Never worry about sending too many asks either, like I said a while back; I'll get to them eventually! If it takes some time before you hear back from me, sincerely <3 My bad <3 Was a little occupied with another fandom this time and actively participating in both got to me djsksdk

Moving on though!

In my mind they've really already been living normally, like between locking away the fairies and Roxy's magic making itself known I mean- Of course the logistics of it are a bit um. All over the place. Considering they're immortal, sort of. Do they have legal documents? Real or fake? Did they have any mortal friends and how would that work? And JOBS?? The way none of these are obstacles for Duman btw, that's why they killed him, they didn't want him to roam and do whatever anymore. Real and Canon.

Now in a post-alt ending-S4 timeline, the one where they did surrender, do we assume that they just can't use their magic, or that they don't have it anymore? Because that'd probably change the way they live afterwards pretty drastically. Aside from the fact some of them heavily depend on magic more than the others (Ogron and Duman get help smh), HORRENDOUS case scenario, they might all be mortal. For the sake of my own mental health though, I'm just gonna say they do still have magic and are in fact not mortal, just give them a fairy parole officer, some magic blocking thing, keep them around and use them for "good" stuff after a rehabilitation period or something. That's what I'd prefer anyway.

What would they be doing during said rehabilitation period? Started out as a bit of a shared joke, but tbh Anagan model career WHEN. He'd struggle with the lack of useable magic the least too, so he'd probably thrive during the whole thing more than the others, and as he should. Besides Anagan I don't have a whole lot ngl- I mean, I'd like to think Duman had lots of jobs back in the day, not sure if I mentioned that before, but I might make a separate post if I didn't, just because I have thoughts but other stuff to talk about rn sjsjksk

Ogron and Gantlos don't have a lot either MY BAD, but I do think Ogron might be more likely to have friends, maybe surprisingly. Meanwhile Gantlos has a bigger chance of being able to hold down a stable job. What job? Great question! I'm not sure yet. If that changes I'll be sharing with the class!

Moving on once again!! What could the "good" stuff I mentioned above be exactly? Education.

Correct me if I'm wrong. But are there no. Wizard or witch school on Earth?? I know they ended up opening a fairy school later on, but those aren't the only magic users suddenly learning of the dormant magic in their roots. Let's take the comic character Gregory for example. He learns he's a wizard, he tries to enroll into a wizard school(?) off planet. Nothing inherently wrong with going to a school off planet- The Winx did it too, lots of magic users do it, what is wrong though, is being turned down and having no alternatives. And even worse?? They tell him it's because. There's a darkness in him?? Or something?? I could excuse it slightly more if it was a case of "Oh your magic is dark aligned and this is a light magic school" because wizard canonically are known to be both, right? But aside from the fact that, again, there are no alternatives for him, as far as he knows, telling a newly awakened magic user that he's basically too evil to teach is CRAZY I'm sorry??

Here's where I cutely insert the Wizards of the Black Circle. Have them become the place to go when your magic energy alignment is dark (because it doesn't inherently have to mean evil and they're worthy of education in this essay I) on Earth, or even just. Any magic user who isn't a fairy. Just give them another Terrestrial option, options are always good. I think that'd be really neat.

You might sit here and go "The evil wizards are gonna teach the next generation of wizards? Could history not repeat itself??" Well. Yeah. But are the Terrestrial fairies not teaching their next generation now too? The same fairies who canonically turned on humanity at some point? These are all 'what if' scenarios, I'd just like to think that with proper communication this time around, things will be different and both fairy and wizard get to work towards that together. I'm normal and have slept a reasonable amount.

[spaceless-vacuum]

What about a reader that has sub zero's abilities

If you don't know mortal combat, sub zero basically can control ice and freeze any type of water including the water in living things which he can freeze them and he can freeze the water in the air making the room look like someone had a blizzard, he can also make ice into weapons. You know he's near when it starts to feel chili. So a reader that can do that basically, would that make reader seem less fragile to them, would that delusion that reader needs their help and they can only protect reader, would they allow reader to fight with them now because the ability to control ice would help or would they try to seal it.

This is sub zero here

I drew your hands in a familiar motion. Calling on the water in the air to freeze. On my command ice grew into a slender needle half a foot long. I shot it forth with devastating speed. The icicle embedded itself deep into the monster's muscle and it roared in pain. A drop of blood fell down the hide of the beast and it turned to face me.

These monsters were everywhere. I had no clue what they were but they looked almost like bulldogs. All short and lean with muscle. Their blue tinted skin was strange and alien. I took a step away. Its breath stunk of rotten meat. The monsters ambushed us. Hyrule had been facing this one and was knocked onto his rear when the thing ran the fellow over. 

“Smart thinking!” Someone from the sounds of chaos shouted but I couldn't pick out anything else. I couldn't turn away from the monster in front of me. I wouldn't think about the fighting behind you. My allies were lost in the roar of chaos and I had no clue who the nearest one was besides Hyrule. For all I knew there was a monster charging at my back.

I summoned another icicle aiming right between the monster's beady little eyes. The icicle hit its throat. The creature backpedalled, reaching for its bleeding neck, and dropped its spear. Hyrule’s sword went through the creature's spine with a sickening crunch. He pulled his sword out and the monster dropped. A second later it turned to dust. Nothing remained except for the weapon.

I turned around. There were still a few left fighting in the clearing below. Time was taking care of one with some help from Wind, Warrior and Sky were dancing around another, and Legend had one fire while he was finishing it up with his sword. Hyrule ran up behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Did it get you?” I turned to look at Hyrule. I reassured him I was fine. The first time we were ambushed I had been caught by a spear in my shoulder. It wasn't serious but everyone in the group was beside themselves for letting it happen. Hyruel was the first to run over and used his magic to heal me. He was amazing with his gift. Weaving together bones and healing tissue like it was second nature.

We had been travelling together for a few days. I had been trapped in this world for over a week. All I knew was that nothing made sense. Everything was different from what I was used to. Not everything was dangerous but you had to be careful here. It was hard to focus with all the stories the group had been telling. Might, magic, treasure, and a rich history. I don't know what I would have done if I didn't bump into them on the road that day.

We were just in the middle of a conversation about a dungeon Legend had been when the ambush hit. My magic let me handle myself in a fight. Hitting targets and making shields was easy for me, but the others were different. The deck was stacked against me. My travelling companions were well hardened adventurers and I got tired after an hour of walking. I wasn't even sure what it was we had fought.

“That should be the last of ‘em.” Warrior called out loud so everyone could hear. No one called out afterwards to warn us of others. No more sounds of swords and shields. It was all over so quickly.

“That’s the third time today. We’ve got to be close to whatever they are guarding.” Time wiped blood off of his blade, the droplets as dark as night. 

Everything here was different. You had to be quick on your feet. Everyone here relied on their instincts. I was good, but the group was better. After travelling for days I was more than thankful for their help. Their camp felt like the safest place I could be. Aside from these boys there wasn't anyone else on my mind who I'd rather be travelling with.

I had tried to do little things around camp to make taking me in easier. Cleaning the dishes, helping Wild cook, and in general trying my best to not get in the way. I didn't know much about their quest or their reputation. Time had stressed they were hunting a monster and had to do anything they could to get rid of it.  He had given me the impression they were all skilled enough to do it, and to give anxiety to anyone who went against them in a fight.

Today was different. It felt like everything in this world was set to target us. We were close to something. Why else try so hard to slow us down? Taking a break wasn't an option. We had to press on. If we were quick we might be able to figure out what all the fuss was about. I wanted to see The Shadow they all talked so much about.

“You're good in a fight.” Hyrule said. He was checking himself over for anything that got knocked loose in the fight.

“Thank you! I feel like I'm getting better.” His compliment made me blush. Hyrule was the only champion here who was naturally gifted with magic. We had that in common. Made it easy to talk with him since we both had some form of elemental connection. His lighting and my ice made for a good pair.

“Should we take a rest?” I heard Four talking on the other side of the clearing. “We could send someone back to fetch you if anything happens.” I looked over. He was standing by Time and Sky while Warrior was trading flame rods with Legend. 

“No. I don't want anyone to fall behind. What if they send someone to catch us and attack the smaller part?” Time looked over to me and Hyrule. They were talking about us. Leaving me and anyone else behind so they rest could rush ahead while we stayed behind. I hated it when Time treated me like I was clueless.

His way of acting always caught me off guard. Yesterday while I was telling a story about my world he kept stopping me to ask me questions.  He was asking me to talk more about myself and my life form before I fell through to Hyrule. Like if I was married, what I ate back home, and what I thought of my life there. He acted like I couldn't tell what he was asking for.

Then there were times like today. Where he was going over my head to stare at the man behind me. Time was trying to ask Hyrule what my condition was. Was I injured? Could I go on? He wouldn't take my word for how I was handling things- no. He wanted the perspective from one of the team members. I hated it, but I understood why. 

Didn't mean I enjoyed his treatment, just that I understood why. He didn't want the newbie to try and appear tougher than they were. I couldn't be allowed to push myself too far just to stick with the rest of the group. Legend first brought up this concern to me. He had repeated it a few times after. For some reason they all were convinced I didn't know my own limits. As if I were some fragile glass slipper in their mind but not my own.

“The moblin jumped out and attacked us both but it didn't land a hit. We're fine.” Hyrule assured everyone we, but mostly I, was ok.

“Looked like you took quite a fall. Glad y/n could help you out.” Warrior, bless his heart, had been helping train me. He was vocal about how I could fight only if I proved myself. I didn't know what that meant but said ok. During our first sparring match I froze his foot to stone; and left him there. It counted as a win. He couldn't do anything and I was free to move away or attack.

“I’m fine. Neither of us are injured and I can still walk.” I looked over to Hyrule and he agreed. He went down but the spear never touched him. I took control of the situation and the beast went to attack me but was slain before it could. It could have been worse.

“We’ll continue together. If something happens a few of us will stay to rest.” Time’s order was final. We began marching again.

“Splitting up the group isn't a good idea, you said that yourself. I'm not injured and you might need the help.” I knew my comment would be heard but not listened to. Time could be so pig headed sometimes. He had his own view of honour and how to keep others safe. You disregarded his ideas and he knew this. Didn’t change what he did or what he saw in me. He meant to keep me safe even if I found it counterintuitive to the point of harm. Sometimes it grew on me but other times it was so infuriating to deal with. I wasn't incapable of defending myself.

“We can’t rest if we're too worried about you.” Sky said. He could see how tense Time was. He took the brunt of your suggestions. The rest of the group would tell you the same thing but you listened to Time more. He was the leader and he controlled the group when they got too far ahead of themselves. He would put his foot down for you in place of the others so you would listen to the group's suggestions.

“I don't think we'll be stopping. It's past midday. If one group stops and we have to circle back it will be sundown. No use in shooting ourselves in the foot if we can catch the shadow while the suns still up.” Time doubled down. He didn't say we wouldn't be stopping, just that if we did it would have to be for the rest of the night. Depending on how the rest of the day went, such as more ambushes, we might have to stay back and set up camp.

“We’ll have to stop at some point for dinner and rest.” Legend spoke. I was up front with Time. I turned around to look at Legend and the rest behind us. Wind was eating something that looked like a plant and Wild was fiddling with his sheikah slate.

“Darling here just doesn't want to slow us down.” Twilight said. He was up front with Warrior. I slowed down to where Sky was in the middle of the group. Wind, Wild, Four, Legend, and Hyrule were in the rear. 

The main fighting force was behind us. Most of the ambushes had taken place when we were almost all the way past them. They'd jump out of the forest and try to trap us from all sides. The strongest fighters would stay up front to push forward while the rest made sure no one closed in on anyone's backs. My spot was in the middle. Where anyone from any side could jump in and protect me. 

Everyone here had told me in one way or another that they only wanted what was best for me. We hadn't been together for long enough for me to agree with them. They hardly knew me, how could they tell me what was best for my life? That and how touchy they could be put me on edge from time to time. I figured Hylians were naturally close people. I was treated as a close friend even though we didn't know each other for long.

I had no plan on leaving. No other group felt quite as safe and I had grown fond of them. Several of the party members had made it clear they felt the same way. Not to mention I had promised Wind there would be no plans of running away in the middle of the night. If I had to leave I would do so with warning.

I doubted I would feel like leaving anytime soon. The future was unclear but I was invested in these boys. Both their lives and in the mystery around the shadow. I couldn’t leave them on their own. I knew they felt the same way about me. We have been trading stories a lot lately. I would say something about my life and they would say something of their own. Talking with them like that made me feel at home.

I couldn't leave without saying goodbye and giving my thanks first. I didn't even have the time to properly thank them for everything they've done for me. I knew they all would object to any gifts I spent money on- especially Time. He prided himself on buying everything I needed when we were in town. So that meant I had to do so in private. Time by myself was hard to come by. I couldn't manage to slip away even if I tried. If I wanted to get them any presents I would have to do so carefully.

[clowningcrows]

lol i pregamed a tiny bit for agatha but now after finishing im just taking shots for coping reasons

[tonguetiedraven]

cliche I know, but handholding bonrin?

Thanks for the ask!! I went somewhere a bit different with it, but I hope you enjoy! This takes place during the festival arc.

(｡^^｡)⸝♡♡⸜(｡••｡)

The problem was that Ryuuji didn’t even know her name.

Well, there were probably several problems, but that was the first and biggest one for him.

He didn’t know her name, and he had never confessed it to anyone, not even Konekomaru, that he had never actually felt the desire to go on a date. To go to a dance to be close instead of just spending time with his friends, or to hold someone’s hand for any reason other than not getting separated, or to lean in (down, because everyone was shorter than him) and give someone a kiss.

That one was probably the strangest. He could see an appeal in some kinds of dancing as it being a fun form of exercise or close to hugging, but the feelings that went with it just weren’t really there for him. All the other things people went nuts over really didn’t apply to him and were mostly a mystery. Even finding out from Shima that people meant hot a bit literally had baffled him. Why should attraction make you feel warm?

It wasn’t the first time he’d been pursued despite never giving any sort of sign that it was welcome or would be reciprocated in any way. He’d had people ask him out from almost the beginning and he’d had people bring him Valentines since he was in grade school.

He had seen people get angry or embarrassed, but he had never seen someone cry.

She did so almost immediately. He gave his normal, “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested in a date right now,” spill, and she’d stepped back, gripped the small package of candies she’d brought him (the kind he never ate because they always seemed to give him a migraine) and before he could really realize what was happening, she was sobbing. Ryuuji immediately jolted in shock and reached out to help and try to stop it, with no idea how to do so.

He had never made someone cry from this. He didn’t know what to do to make it better. Saying yes wasn’t an option because that would make it worse when he didn’t return any of her advances and didn’t keep this up.

“I—” he stuttered, entirely out of his depths and feeling like his heart was breaking with guilt, “it’s—I’m gay!”

He wasn’t. (At least not that he knew. He was nothing as far as he could tell.) It was just better than the crying, and he almost never lied, but maybe this one wouldn’t hurt.

The girl looked up from her hand, still crying more than not, and sniffed dramatically. “You are?”

“Yes,” Ryuuji lied again. “It’s not something I share.” It wasn’t something that was likely true. Ryuuji, whatever he was, seemed to be alone.

“I’m sorry,” the girl apologized, sniffing, and that irritated something in Ryuuji. He wasn’t gay, but it was rude to apologize for the way someone else felt. “I didn’t know.”

The anger dissolved as quickly as it had come, and that brief and poor choice of words was probably the reason he didn’t see a dark-haired boy ducking back around the corner with a shocked expression and a slight blush before he was covering his face with his hands and trying to get his excited and hopeful tail to still.

——♡(´･ω･)(･ω･`)♡——

Ryuuji was sitting under an old oak while he tried to finish his third essay for Demon Pharmaceuticals (Yukio had to be upset about something with the amount of work he was giving out) and was thinking he needed to get some food because he was starving.

“Hey!”

Rin’s cheery voice had him looking up, squinting a bit as his strained eyes refocused, and nodding in acknowledgement.

“Hey, Okumura.”

Rin gave a small wiggle Ryuuji recognized as meaning his tail was trying to wag where wit was hidden under his shirt, and sat down.  Ryuuji raised an eyebrow as a small smile started to lift his lips.

“You need help with homework?” Ryuuji asked, thinking Rin wasn’t likely to have started on this essay yet, but might be working on the previous one.

Rin shook his head and set a bottle of tea and a yakisoba bun on the table before sliding it towards Ryuuji.

“You skipped lunch,” he explained. “Figured you’d be hungry.”

Ryuuji grinned properly and reached for it. “Thanks! I was late getting out and knew there wasn’t a shot of getting there in time to get anything affordable.”

It was still warm. Or Rin had warmed it up for him. (That was more likely now that Ryuuji was thinking about it.) The warmth always made the flavors come through more vibrantly and he’d gone through half of it without even noticing. He blushed a bit when he did notice and made himself slow down and look up.

Rin was beaming and it was hard not to smile back at him. He had a great smile and Ryuuji hadn’t really gotten to see him today. It wasn’t a day they had a shared Cram Class.

“I um, wanted to ask you something?” Rin said after a moment. “I… would you like to go to the concert together?”

Ryuuji stilled in utter shock. Of all the conversations they’d have, he would never have expected that one.

“What?”

Rin swallowed, and Ryuuji realized Rin was blushing, quite a lot, and that his hair had the slightest glitter of flames in it.

“I want to go to the concert with you.” He said, like it wasn’t shocking and he hadn’t been asking most every girl and gotten super excited about the possibility of going out with Shiemi. (And got excited about trying on a regular basis.)

“Me? Since when?”

Rin blushed all the more. “Since the hairclip? I just didn’t think… I didn’t know you were gay.”

Ryuuji blinked and realized that of course people gossiped. That was probably everywhere. He was going to have to figure out how to turn guys down too now. Great.

“I don’t… I’m not. I didn’t know what to do and she was crying and I just said the first thing I could think of.”

Rin flushed all the more and seemed to wilt. “Oh. Shit. Sorry. Just, uh, forget I said—”

“I’m not straight either. I don’t…”

He didn’t think he was anything. He’d never really looked into it. He’d fit in fine when he was younger and then it seemed like everyone was doing something he hadn’t been told about and that entire world had left him behind and confused.

Rin looked up again, seeming curious now. “You’re ace?”

“I don’t know.” He frowned, curious. “Did you actually want to go out with me? Or did you just want a date?”

He’d never actually thought about going out with a guy. He’d have fun hanging with Rin. More fun than going with a stranger. At least as long as Rin didn’t expect a lot more than what they usually did. (Not only did Ryuuji seem to be missing most of what his friends got, he also had no idea what dates even really entailed. Everyone seemed to only be trying to get as far as they could and that wasn’t appealing.)

Rin looked a bit insulted. “Yeah I want to go out with you. Not just a date. I like you Suguro. You’re cool and funny and smart and determined. You’re fun to be around and I like competing with you. Of course I wanna go out with you.”

Something warm and strange seemed to spread in Ryuuji’s chest. He liked the specificity of that. That it was him Rin was seeing and not just another person to ask out. He liked Rin, and he found Rin fun to hang out with and compete with and Rin drove him crazy in so many ways, but he knew he could trust Rin, and he knew Rin trusted him, and Rin would call him out when he was being an ass and listen when Ryuuji said he was, and Rin was earnest and loyal, and Ryuuji was starting to think he’d just found a strange new idea.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. You can just, uh, forget I asked? Forget any of this happened?”

Ryuuji shook his head. “No.”

Rin scowled. “Why not?”

Ryuuji pulled the tea closer and broke the seal with a strangely loud noise as Rin watched him. “I’m going to keep getting asked,” he decided with a frown as he twisted the lid off the rest of the way. “It’s gonna keep happening and I’m tired of it and I don’t want to make anymore people cry. So…”

He took a sip, wondering if this was actually a stupid idea, but he’d rather do this with the promise of actually having fun than keep saying no or crumble under the pressure of some stranger crying and making him feel like a monster.

“I’d go with you, if you’re serious. I can’t… I don’t know what I am, or if I can like you, but it’d be fun.” He looked at Rin over the top of the tea – the brand he drank the most and the type that was supposed to help with migraines and one you could only get at a specific vending machine at this level of the Academy, but one Rin had brought him because he’d noticed that. “If that’s okay with you, then let’s do it.”

Rin narrowed his eyes like he was trying to sniff out a trap, which was rude and made Ryuuji scowl a little, but he held his tongue.

“On a date?”

“I don’t know anything about them. But sure. Just know I—”

“You’re not all feely,” Rin interrupted and flapped his hand like that wasn’t what he was concerned with. “That’s fine. I can try and woo my princess,” he gave Ryuuji a big and toothy grin that made Ryuuji’s entire face feel hot.

“I’m not a princess!”

Rin grinned all the wider. “Don’t get your skirt twisted, princess. I’m gonna be all romantical and no hard feelings if it doesn’t work, okay?”

Ryuuji grumbled but nodded. “Deal.”

Rin stuck his hand out as he stood up, holding it out to Ryuuji like he wanted him to shake it and seal the deal, so Ryuuji did, and found himself entirely confused when Rin took his hand and shifted to sit next to Ryuuji, not giving his hand back. Just holding it in his own warm hand, sitting close enough that Ryuuji could feel the heat of him and peering down at Ryuuji’s Demon Pharmaceuticals homework.

“Shit,” he asked like it wasn’t weird to snag someone’s hand. (Wasn’t it?) “Did we have homework?”

Ryuuji laughed and shoved the book towards Rin. “Yeah, another essay.”

“Another?! We had one?!”

(Ryuuji’s hand was still being held, and he’d never realized how Rin’s hand was calloused. Probably from all the sword drills.)

“We had three.”

“Three?!” Rin looked down at the book horrified. (His hand was smaller than Ryuuji’s. Their fingers fit strangely well together despite that.) “Yukio’s gonna kill me.”

“I’ll help ya out, moron. “

Rin’s smile went all toothy again, enough that his eyes went a bit squinty too, and Ryuuji decided he could use his left hand to finish his own essay. Rin could keep his right one for now.

“Thanks!”

Ryuuji passed Rin a few sheets of paper and a pen and pointed to the first assignment where he’d written the notes for it.

“You take notes for homework?” Rin asked, and snorted. “You’re a nerd, princess.”

“You’re not in a place to judge, ya monkey.”

(His face felt a bit warm, and there was something spreading through his chest he wasn’t quite sure about, but he wasn’t scared and he wasn’t uncomfortable, and it was something he felt might be okay to explore with Rin.

Just without the princess.)

“No,” Ryuuji intercepted, tapping Rin’s hand with his pen. “That’s the wrong word. Check the spelling.”

Rin did and Ryuuji saw his tongue poke out a little in concentration and felt Rin’s leg start to jiggle a little next to his that reminded him of dozens of study sessions like this. Something comfortable and familiar, but the slightest bit different as Rin started to brush his thumb over Ryuuji’s in a steady rhythm that wasn’t distracting, even though it seemed like it should be.

He didn’t know what he was or if he could feel anything like what Rin wanted, but he thought he might be starting to see the appeal in holding someone’s hand.

[blamemma]

27 👀

inspired by a conversation with @blacklaces, nsfw, 1.4k, max/daniel, feminisation (daniel in lingerie) 😳

Max keeps his hands clasped, across his lap, beige shorts against stark white thighs as he waits. Avoids looking down at the weighted Tag Heuer on his wrist to determine exactly how much time he's been waiting. He shuffles downwards a little against the headboard of the bed, getting comfortable.

They've only just landed. Their own little private Italian island for two weeks. A reprieve over the summer just for them. But instead of feeling relaxed, instead of running his fingers delicately over Daniel's shoulders as he lathers sun cream onto him, Max feels irritable, angsty. Daniel had hustled the staff away from their villa quickly, pushed Max onto the bed with a chaste kiss and then vanished into the bathroom, a muffled "Stay here," spoken into Max's lips. Max had barely any time to protest, pull Daniel in closer, before he heard the click of the bathroom lock.

If he listens closely, pushes the sound of the waves crashing against the shore out of his ears, or the distant calls of bird cry, he can hear the pads of Daniel's feet moving across the bathroom. He can hear him grumbling at something, a short swear word thrown in, Daniel's voice agitated through the dark wood door. Max thinks he can hear Daniel say, "Alright, you got this DR." but that is something he's ever heard his Daniel say, Daniel's self-confidence always enough for him to push through whatever doubt he's having.

He distinctively hears the latch of the bathroom lock come undone and then Daniel's voice, loud but jittery through the wood say, "Close your eyes baby."

"Okay," Max responds, screwing his eyes shut, and he waits more.

This time, he feels the dip in the four-poster bed as Daniel climbs up onto the bottom of it. Max hears the rustle of the sheets, the way the fabric moves under him as Daniel gets settled, and his heart aches a little, desperate to reach out and touch Daniel as he hears him let out a shaky breath.

"Okay Maxy, open them up."

The blinding afternoon light shining in through the balcony doors forces Max to blink rapidly, adjusting to the sun lit room, but he's desperate to stop, because the glimpse of Daniel he's already had his him salivating, keening for even a second more.

At the bottom of the bed, Daniel kneels, feet tucked delicately behind him, hands outstretched on his palms, upper body covered by the sheerest baby-blue teddy, soft-pink lace trim all across the edges. It covers the barest inch of thigh, just about touches the tip of Daniel's ship tattoo. Max can just make out through the sheer fabric a similarly coloured pair of underwear underneath, Daniel's dick clearly visible, the veins shining starkly through the baby blue.

The mesh material accentuates all of Daniel's features; his Adonis belt shines through, the cut of the chest area accentuating his shoulders and neck. Max wants to keep him like this forever, his pretty little boy, all dressed up, waiting for him.

"Daniel," Max lets out breathless, moving forward towards him.

"A present. For You." Daniel responds. "Ten wins baby, eight in a row."

Max crawls forward, a look of worship on his face, and gently caresses Daniel's face in his hands, before bringing him closer.

He brushes his lips delicately against Daniel's, the softest of touches, a similar touch against his cheek, and then moves his lips to his ear, whispering, "You look beautiful."

He leans back once more, drinks Daniel in, watches as goosebumps litter his skin at the praise, tries and tries and tries to commit the sight to memory, because they both know, as soon as Max gets his hands on Daniel, the delicate lingerie won't survive.

He kisses Daniel's neck, kisses over the pearl necklace adorning his neck, covering it in spit, lathes over the crease of his armpit. Taking the silk fabric into his mouth, he kisses over Daniel's nipples, getting drunk on the high, keening noises Daniel lets out.

"Max," Daniel begs, and Max moves away.

"You are my present," Max reminds him. "I can do what I want with you."

Daniel shuffles where he's sat, Max's domineering tone reminding him of his place, before he straightens up again, presenting himself to Max once more.

"Where is your camera Daniel?" Max asks, his fingertips delicately caressing along the length of Daniel's thigh, soft hair tickling him, teasing.

"In my bag." Daniel gestures with a jerk of his head towards the black and blue Gucci he'd discarded on the back of a chair when they'd entered the room.

Max kisses him again, cradles Daniel's face in his hands, runs his tongue across the crease of Daniel's lips, running his thumbs lovingly across his cheeks before leaving the bed.

It's perched neatly at the top, shrouded by a thick jumper Daniel hadn't needed once they'd touched down in the scorching Italian sun. Max fumbles out of his t-shirt, forces his shorts of his body, and heads back towards Daniel, camera grasped in his hands.

He presses the front of his body to Daniel's back, feels him take a sharp intake of break at the intrusion. Max runs his free hand over the front of Daniel's body, runs his finger over one of the straps, pulls at it and lets it snap back onto Daniel's skin, rucks up the rest of expensive fabric in his hand, feeling the expanse of Daniel's chest underneath him.

"Did you order this just for me?" He whispers into Daniel ears. "Did you try it on back at home, make sure it fit you properly, made you look all pretty of course?"

"Yes," Daniel replies. "Yes to all of them. Tried it on when you and Brad were out on a run."

Max feels dizzy at the thought, of Daniel in their apartment, opening the small package he would've been sent, trying the little teddy on whilst Brad was forcing him around the coast of Monaco. Max could have been there, with him. Max could have come home. Brad could have seen.

"The suspenders wouldn't fit round my thighs." Daniel confesses after a beat of silence from Max, a meekness to his voice Max wants to make disappear instantly.

"They look beautiful and strong without them." Max remarks, towering over Daniel and grasping them both in his hands. He kisses the crown of Daniel's head before moving back onto the bed, sitting directly opposite Daniel again.

His dick is achingly hard between his thighs, Daniel's barely touched him, barely done anything, but the sheer sight of him before Max has him yearning. He strokes it quickly, taking the edge off, keeps his gaze locked on Daniel whilst he does it, lets his eyes slowly drop down to where Daniel's own dick is, leaking pre-come and staining his panties.

"This okay?" Max asks as he turns the camera on, just as adept at using it as Daniel is now, a shared possession between them like most things are.

"Always," Daniel responds, a bright smile directed at Max.

"Good," Max responds, before he starts eagerly taking pictures, every angle of Daniel needed so that they can both look back on them later, lay next to each other after a long qualifying session and jerk each other off over them.

"Lay down for me?" Max requests, patting the pillows placed just behind him. Daniel moves instantly, brushing past Max and flopping his body down onto the mattress.

The teddy billows up with Daniel's movement, and then settles around him all misshapen, rising up on his pelvis, so that the mesh underwear is fully on show now, the tip of Daniel's hard dick pushing through the top of the waistband.

Max leans over, kisses the tip of it softly, before sucking the tangy taste of Daniel and pre-come filling his mouth, drawing back just as quickly.

"Max, please," Daniel begs again, more drawn out and high this time. "Anything--please."

“Hm, but I think I like having you spread out like this. Such a gorgeous sight.” 

He takes more pictures, Daniel's long curls framing his face perfectly, his face turned against the pillows as he squirms, the long shape of him picture perfect.

"Pretty boys like you deserve a reward I think," Max teases, and he shuffles downwards, ripping Daniel's underwear apart with his hands, diving forward quickly and taking the whole of Daniel in his mouth. Daniel's hips jerk upwards suddenly, a loud moan erupting from his throat also, and as Max gives in to the pleasure of it all, he's enormously grateful that they're alone on this island.

[jnpje]

It had never seemed necessary for Papyrus and I to nail down an exact meeting place. “At the park” was always enough for the two of us to find each other. And today, we found each other at the top of the white columned stairs. Well. I guess technically I found him.

It really seemed like he’d been waiting in that exact spot, knowing I was going to be walking that way. But he was watching in the wrong direction; his back turned to me as he waited, watching the stairs. Or maybe he was watching the fountain? Cool air wafted away from flowing water, which I could feel even from across this small plaza. He seemed like he was watching something. I slowed my pace, in order to get a good look at him before he could know that I was watching him.

He was sitting on the wall, leaning forward, with one foot propped up in front of him and the other flat on the ground. A half-eaten lime creamsicle was in his hand, his arm lazily draped over his raised knee.

I guess he must not have been waiting long at all, since he still had popsicle left. As if he was aware of my thoughts, he took a big bite right as I considered it. The wind blew more cool air our way, and ruffled the collar of his too-large shirt and the tall grass on the other side of the wall. I considered, just for a moment, that maybe I should stop walking altogether--just long enough to snap a photo of the picturesqueness of it all. He looked so thoughtful and serious, gazing out towards the lake. Juxtaposed with a popsicle full of lopsided bite marks, this scene was a perfect encapsulation of the monster that was Papyrus.

But I couldn’t. I didn’t have the guts. I didn’t even have the guts to disturb what looked like a satisfying reverie by calling out or otherwise making my presence known. Instead I awkwardly shuffled up to his side and moved to place my hand on his shoulder, but then second-guessed myself and thought, maybe I should tap it instead? It didn’t matter, since he startled and swiveled his head around before I could even decide.

“H...HEY!!” It was always fun to watch his face, and the clear progression of emotions that often played out. Right then it was shock at being approached by a stranger, which instantly gave way to shock at being approached by someone you love, which quickly melted into glee at having been tricked (with a hint of sheepishness for having been facing the wrong way).

“HEH, I THOUGHT YOU WERE ON YOUR WAY UP! WANT SOME?” The softened popsicle was extended towards me. Of course I wanted some, so I obliged him with a slurp that took care of a good half of what was left on the stick.

“..........” His disappointment was palpable, and my sudden guilt must have shown on my face too.

“WAIT, IT’S FINE. REALLY. I OFFERED IT TO YOU, SO...”

“Where’d you get that from, anyway? Do they sell those here??”

“THESE? THESE?? YOU KNOW THEY DON’T SELL THESE HERE! I HAD TO BRING IT WITH.” He gives a good slap to a bag I hadn’t noticed sitting next to him.

“.....They’ll melt.”

“THEY WON’T!”

“Hm. I didn’t know you had popsicle-cooling magic... Neat!” I reached down to the bag, eager for a popsicle of my own and curious about the cooling mechanism.

But the bag was swept away from my grasp, and Papyrus was shaking a finger at me. “YOU ARE NOT AUTHORIZED TO GO DIGGING IN MY MAGIC BAG.” He swung his leg over the wall, landing both feet firmly on the ground and standing up straight with an exaggerated gesture. “BUT I AM!” A bright red creamsicle was soon procured, unwrapped and thrust into my hands. I was suspicious of what sort of “magic” was keeping it cold, since it seemed to be already starting to soften, but couldn’t find the heart to complain about getting a treat.

Once Papyrus had started in on his second popsicle (orange this time), the two of us linked arms and began strolling towards the stairs overlooking the lake. From this vantage point, even more of the lake was visible, as well as the vague outline of paths surrounding it on the opposite side. This lake wasn’t particularly big, but it took almost half an hour to walk around a single lap. The paths were forested, at times so thickly that the lake couldn’t be seen, and that made them seem isolated, and longer than they really were. But all of it seemed so much smaller from up here even though it wasn’t that far away at all.

As we began making our way down the staircase, I bit the popsicle with my lips over my teeth then slurped up the melting ice cream inside. It cooled my face but warmed my heart. “You know, I didn’t even realize they still made these popsicles. I used to eat them a lot as a kid.”

“I, DON’T THINK THEY ACTUALLY DO?? YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE WHAT A PAIN I WENT THROUGH, TRYING TO FIND THEM!” 

On the lake there wasn’t much visible from here other than a few small paddle boats, but as we got closer I could make out groups of kayakers who seemed to drift effortlessly by.

“IT COULDN’T HAVE BEEN THAT LONG AGO THEY WERE DISCONTINUED. I REMEMBER EATING THEM TOO, BACK WHEN THE BARRIER WAS FIRST BROKEN.”

In reality, I knew that the riders were having to work hard to propel their boats forward through the water. I’d never been kayaking, but it had always looked like fun to me. Stealing a glance over at Papyrus, who was still going on about the popsicles, I wondered if it could be a good way to work out together with him, fully expecting that he’d be excellent at it.

Suddenly I realized that my popsicle was gone. “Oh hey...can I have a green one now?” I waved my popsicle stick, licked mostly clean, in front of Papyrus and he grimaced. “It’s been so long since I had these, I forgot how much I liked ‘em.”

“YES, I KNEW YOU HAD EXCELLENT TASTE. OF COURSE I WOULD LOVE TO FETCH YOU A GREEN ONE. BUT I’M NOT YOUR TRASH COLLECTOR! AND IF YOU STICK THAT...THAT STICKY THING IN THE BAG YOU MIGHT-- RUIN THE MAGIC OR SOMETHING!” He made a shooing gesture at my stick, which only made me want to wave it in his face even more. “GO FIND A GARBAGE CAN!”

Seeing as there were no garbage cans nearby, I stuck the stick into my jeans pocket, much to Papyrus’s dismay. But he forgave me enough to serve me a green popsicle after all. This popsicle was suspiciously much softer than the last. “Hey.....you’re not using magic at all, are you?” I squinted at him as almost the entirety of the lime popsicle shell sloughed off in my mouth. “.....*gulp*. You just packed a ton of popsicles and counted on being able to finish them off before they melted.”

Papyrus seemed to be watching the boats on the lake quite intently now but surely he was aware of my accusatory stare out of the corner of his eye. His stern expression twitched with a grin. “I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT."

"..........."

"BUT. I'LL ADMIT THAT IT’S A GOOD THING YOU’RE HERE, SO YOU CAN HELP ME EAT THEM ALL.”

“True. It’ll be a lot of work to finish them all before they melt.”

“WELL, DON’T GET ME WRONG! I COULD MANAGE IT.”

The path down the stairs was lined with shady trees, but the lake itself was surrounded by a sunny, open walkway. I had a feeling that no, he could not manage it. These popsicles were not going to last more than 10 minutes, tops. Even through our combined efforts, there would probably be a couple of melted treats. I slurped up most of the ice cream center as we walked across a platformed break in the stairs, eager to do my part either way. 

But as we stepped down onto the stairs again, I saw something that made me jump in alarm: a wedding party! And their cameras were pointed straight up the picturesque stairs, right at us! Without even thinking, I pulled Papyrus by our linked arms, running back up to the platform before turning off onto a small dirt path running diagonal to the stairs.

The air was heavy and quiet as I pondered whether or not I had photobombed that bride and groom’s photoshoot. Probably so. Even though I hadn’t noticed it until we were very near, that was only because I hadn’t been paying attention. The pictures probably had us there in the background, though it wouldn’t have been very close to the subject. It was a public park, so I couldn’t really feel guilty for it, but even still, I didn’t want to be in some stranger’s wedding photos.

“.......” I wasn’t exactly sure why but suddenly things felt clumsy and awkward. I didn’t know what to say, or whether to say anything, and the little bit of popsicle I had left was completely forgotten. Slowly I turned my eyes up towards Papyrus only to find him calmly nibbling on a new popsicle (a red one now) while looking back in the direction of the couple.

“........HM. YOU THINK....YOU MIGHT WANT TO DO THAT SOMETIME? ME AND YOU?”

My heart, pounding, leapt straight to my throat, blocking out any words or sounds from coming through, while my grip on the popsicle stick tightened. Was this a joke?

No...he was genuinely asking me for an answer, I realized, as he looked down, smiling at me expectantly. But he looked so laid back about it. Somehow, we must have been thinking of two different things.

“U..uh....I, I mean....um...ho-honestly, I’m, I-I’ve.......you know...it feels embarrassing somehow to b-be...honest...but....” My words got quieter as my face got hotter. I went to take a giant bite of the popsicle to cool down, but what had been left of it had already melted and ran down into my fist. 

“HANG ON....OH MY GOD......ARE YOU SCARED OF BEING OUT ON THE WATER???” His suddenly concerned face only confused me even more.

“WAAAAIT, WAIT WAIT WAIT...” Papyrus took a brief look around himself, which at first I took to mean that he was checking to see if anyone was around. But maybe he was looking for a place to hold his popsicle because the next thing he did was quickly suck the whole thing directly off the stick (swallowing it dutifully rather than savoring it, and tossing the stick to the ground), before placing his thick-gloved hands squarely on my shoulders, and leaning in close.

His worried frown was right in front of my face, much closer than it usually happened to be. I tried to listen to him instead of focusing on his features, but it was hard. I hadn’t had this chance to be so close before. His voice wasn’t...quiet... but, it was softer than I expected.

“IT’S OK TO BE SCARED OF THAT. PERFECTLY OK. DON’T....DON’T BE EMBARRASSED. WE DON’T HAVE TO--”

Suddenly everything clicked in my mind. Our eyes met. “To...go kayaking together....?”

“YES. EXACTLY. WE DON’T HAVE TO GO KAYAKING TOGETHER. I’VE NEVER DONE IT MYSELF, BUT....WELL...WHEN I SAW THOSE LITTLE BOATS ON THE BIG LAKE....” He smiled softly, sheepishly even. “I THOUGHT IT LOOKED LIKE FUN.”

Actually, it did sound fun. Really fun. I returned his smile, shyly, even though he didn’t seem to completely understand that look, and grasped his hand, pulling it to my chest confidingly.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be too scary....if we were together.”

Sorrowfully, Papyrus shook his head. “THE KAYAK IS A BOAT THAT ONLY FITS ONE PERSON, I’M AFRAID.”

“I meant. Together, in our own boats. Side by side on the water.”

“OH. SURE. YES! I’LL STICK RIGHT BY YOU!!” His grin was nothing short of triumphant.

Then he noticed my hand, clasping his.

“ ............YECCCK!! WHY ARE YOU SO STICKY?!?!?!”

[libraryleopard]

Adult horror graphic novel

Reminiscent of Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca

After a lonely young woman marries a recently widowed dentist and moves to a new town for a fresh start with him and his daughter, she begins to suspect that her husband's first wife's death wasn't by natural causes

Gorgeously illustrated, unnerving, queer

Spoilery thoughts on the ending under the cut

Okay it's been a while since I read this, but I'm trying to recall what I thought of the ending since I'm reviewing it

It's certain and abrupt and ambiguous ending but here are things I remember putting together to try and understand it

Abby is probably an unreliable narrator whose own recollections are not always reliable (see: that part where she misremembers the children's picture book) and the scenes in color represent her fantasies/delusions of some kind?

Her husband is a forgetful man (we see him misremembering things), but didn't murder his wife–he was just in an unhappy marriage and lied to say she's dead to gain sympathy?

Beth is Sheila with a different haircut/hair color (I think the scene where Abby gets her hair cut is supposed to plant this idea), which is why she looks different than the photo Crystal has of her

She's been watching the family, but is not a ghost

The ghost is just a complete delusion of Abby's (this is why she's in color)

Abby killed her husband and left his body under the dock, then kills Sheila

Abby is also a repressed lesbian (I thought this was really clear to me but apparently other's didn't see this as so obvious haha)