#they’re made so that the canon couples can look at each other

[proshipper-plaza]

I’ve finally gathered my thoughts together.

This is my experience with antis.

For starters, I’ve been a huge Pokemon fan ever since I was a child and my first game was Pokemon Blue. I remembered watching the anime back when it was good imo

As the years passed, I completely dropped the anime entirely because the same duo of Ash and Pikachu annoyed me to no end, and I wanted a new protagonist. But the games I loved and played every one up to the ninth generation.

Anyway, when Pokemon Legends Arceus came out, I was enthralled— even though the game’s story has its faults, I still greatly enjoyed the experience over all.

One of the characters that stood out to me was Volo. I love him so much and decided to create my own AU for him as well as roleplay as him.

Now, I have a tendency to ship the MC with a popular character if they’re interesting enough to me, so obviously I was going to ship Akari ( who’s canonically fifteen) with him. I didn’t mind the age gap, because I enjoy the taboo nature of it.

(My first ever mlm ship was Pitch Black/Jack Frost from Rise of the Guardians. Overall, I do in fact ship adult/adult, so I’m not totally obsessed with adult x minor pairings, but I have no issue with them.)

Getting back on track, I decided to friend on Volo once I created the account on the roleplay site and there was this RPer who roleplayed as Koko, a character from one of the Pokemon movies, who’s thirteen years old. They have a habit of portraying young characters in an unsavory light. ( oh noes, the horror, antis amirite.) this was told to me by someone who was formerly from a toxic group. Let’s call her R.

So the breaking point was when it was made public and they were openly discussing dildos and whatnot in character with my version of Volo, so naturally it set off a huge stink bomb.

Koko made a couple friends uncomfortable and it just snowballed from there. At the time, R got fed up and admittedly ripped Koko a new asshole for even trying to integrate that kind of topic on their clearly underaged character. And since Koko said my name...I was ultimately assumed to have been engaging in something nefarious.

I have to put my foot down at someone who’s a writer/Rper being attacked for writing about underaged characters engaging in activities clearly unsuited for that age group. People act as if they have feelings and are alive, for goodness sake. They’re fictional, and it’s really no one’s business what anyone RPs/writes about.

Anyway, Koko got harassed off the site, and I was upset, but of course I didn’t want to say anything because people would look at me funny if I came to their defense.

So then, an Akari RPer shows up and I’m happy because hey, I can ship Volokari now. Our more, ahem, lewd roleplays were in private messages, but we kissed IC publicly and were affectionate with each other. Now this site’s layout is set up where whatever you post can be viewed by everyone, and I made the popular role players in the Pokémon verse uncomfortable, apparently. But I didn’t think anything of it, even when the Akari RPer was scared off.

One day I’m feeling good, and decide to friend a Dialga RP account, and then log off to go watch a movie online. When I return, and I wish I had the screenshots, but my original Discord got hacked, the writer had sent me a nasty message in which she called me a pedophile and all this other stuff as well as a rat.

I remember being stunned, then crying a lot because I didn’t know what I could do.

I tried so hard to defend myself, but my words didn’t have the effect I wanted. I felt hurt and confused and angry.

So after being harassed more by another user who masqueraded as someone normal, only to say they’d “hunt down every account I made in every verse and expose me for the pedo I am”, as well as a reply to my OOC post where I said, “I’m mentally drained”, and this other user said, “Good. Pedos don’t deserve rest.”

I was told I must be a freak in day to day life because I “portrayed an adult x minor ship in a healthy light.”

After removing all the pictures I uploaded and making my profile blank with a long message as to why I was inactive, I left. Couldn’t take it. Second time I tried to come back? I was friended by a Mewtwo who proceeded to greet me with, “I thought we established pedophiles weren’t allowed in this verse.” And I replied with, “I thought we established I wasn’t one?”

They responded that in characters interactions are a sign that I what I desire in roleplay, is what I desire in reality.

I replied with something along the lines of, in character interactions will always be baseless accusations.

Oooh, they didn’t like that at all. They called me a piece of shit for even saying that and how dare I make light of their trauma they went through when they were younger ( news flash, it’s not about YOUR TRAUMA, it’s about the ship dynamics. )

They ended up calling me a disease to humanity and that their opinion of me would never change. They blocked me.

So once again, I deleted, and my third and final attempt to come back unsurprisingly ended in failure.

This clique was warning people new to the verse to block/report me.

I’m not confused.

I’m not mentally ill.

I don’t need professional help.

I’m so sorry you all were lied to, and you believe their words at face value without asking for concrete evidence.

Why should I have to be treated with hostility and disdain simply over what I ship/how I chose to portray a character when there are actual predators who need to be exposed?

In closing

What I do is in fiction is no one’s business and I get it, the overwhelming majority is uncomfortable by underage ships, but the mature things to do are either ignore it, block, and move on.

It’s not reasonable to harass someone over fictional content and it’s very unreasonable to slander and water down the term pedophilia to something that it’s not, to the benefit of actual predators.

Don’t like me? Don’t like what I am? Then move on with your lives and never interact with my content.

So go ahead, waste your time on your little moral holier than art thou moral high grounds, I guess.

Nowadays, I’m in other verses and am keeping to myself just like what I did before. All in all this entire situation sucks and I strongly wish it never occurred in the first place. I wish people would mind their own business and leave me alone.

Thank you for reading. If you want my discord so we can talk more, ask.

[jccatstudios]

crow profiles

[starliau]

“Me and my girlfriend saw you from down the hall and we hate your vibe”

Basically I saw Auli’i say that rejanis would be a power couple and I thought yes they’d also be the judgiest couple ever

I also think (random headcanon time look out) that middle school Rejanis would sit at lunch and judge everyone. I think it became one of those habits that’s impossible to fully break, and Janis tries because in canon she doesn’t want to do anything that she can associate with Regina but it’s still there (we all saw you agree that cady’s shoes were ugly Janis)

Then post canon Regina tries to not judge people (trying to be kinder and all that) but it’s hard and she slips up often, and Janis finds it HILARIOUS watching her scramble to cover up the judgement she’s made, even though most of the time the same thought has already crossed her mind, she still teases Regina about it for the rest of the day.

Now they get together and they both know each other still makes these judgements about people, and they’re both trying not to but even after all the years they’re still on the same page so they just..silently eye each other when something arises they can judge- they don’t say anything cause they’re good people, but they both know they’re still the middle schoolers sitting and giggling at peoples fashion choices in the cafeteria 🤷‍♀️

Anyway idk if that headcanon is what I actually drew I genuinely just drew this with Auli’is comment in mind along with the “and we hate your vibe” meme and thought it was kinda funny 🫡

[beauspot]

Good Omens Is a Big Deal

With everything going on I haven’t acknowledged how grateful I am for what Neil (and John) did this season. I always saw Good Omens as a romantic story and everyone involved seemed to be super supportive of that. To actually see a follow through on those themes was wonderful though. To see Aziraphale continue to look at Crowley like he’s the earth, the moon, and the stars. To see Crowley continue to save his angel not because he needs them to, but because they love him.

To see them have their dinners, and give the other access to their prized possessions. To see them dance. They love each other. They are in love with each other and it’s not implied or a throwaway line that can be edited out.

It’s the beating heart at the center of the story.

And they weren’t meant to be. Neil himself will tell you when he and Terry wrote the book Aziraphale and Crowley were meant to be friends and that’s it. Over time their relationship evolved and where a lot of writers would simply ignore that and keep pushing forward Neil pivoted and said “you know what? let’s see where this goes.” The last time I can remember something like this happening was with Hannibal years ago, it’s so rare with queer pairings.

I know everyone was excited about the kiss and it is refreshing to see queer people actually get to kiss, it’s still not something that happens all the time, but that’s not what made them canonically queer to me. If they remained completely asexual and never kissed or showed interest in kissing one another I’d feel the same. While I always felt they were queer what sealed it for me were 3 things:

1. Nina and Maggie, a romantic pairing that parallel our angel and demon break down to Crowley how she and Aziraphale are partners (and it’s clear they don’t mean business partners, does Crowley look like he runs a bookshop?) but they never say what they’re really thinking. They go on to state how that’s all they needed, the obvious implication here being that Nina and Maggie shared their romantic feelings with one another and that Crowley and Aziraphale need to do the same. Upon hearing this Crowley takes that as a sign to confess his feelings.

2. Gabriel and Beelzebub, another pairing that parallels Crowley and Aziraphale who are also clearly in love with one another is something Crowley references while he is confessing his feelings. “If those two lovestruck idiots can go off together, so can we. Because I love you.”

3. Crowley and Aziraphale express plainly to each other that they need the other. Crowley says to Aziraphale he wants to stop pretending they aren’t a team, a group, a them.

Aziraphale says verbatim “We can be together.” and “I need you.” He doesn’t say “We can work together” or “I need you to help me” or some other cop out that a lot of other shows or movies might come up with to continue to bait their fans, while having plausible deniability.

They love each other and it’s not platonic.

To me, the kiss serves as a way to seal the deal for people who only understand queer love when it’s punching them in the face. That’s not to say queer people can’t like the kiss, it’s one of my favorite scenes in the show simply because of how heartbreaking it is, but they were a couple to me long before that. And to add onto that by making every other important pairing in the show queer as well? Nina and Maggie being happy sapphics who don’t die at the end. They’re not together, but the implication is that one day they will be. Two non-binary beings—Gabriel and Beelzebub—falling in love and choosing to be with one another forever. The angels and demons are all genderless and no one misgenders them and no one gives a FUCK.

That means so much to me and I genuinely cannot express how thankful I am that this show and this season were made. The only thing I can say is thank you for standing for something, because not everyone does.

[sporkfingers]

Some Tang Sanzang concept art that I don’t think I’ll finish anytime soon, but whateva

The scar on his head is from a spat with wukong gone wrong, spur of the moment which he regretted after he realized what he had done-

he waited for his sifu to use the fillet tightening sultra to punish him, he’s shaking, apologizing profusely in a small voice. To his surprise he doesn’t feel the painstaking ache of the band squeezing. Instead, when he looks up he finds Tripitaka, his sifu, looking at him with a horrified look on his face. But…. He’s not scared of wukong… he’s scared of himself, if he could cause such a reaction in this godly simian, a demon that the heavens feared, then…what he had been doing…it wasn’t right, it couldn’t be.

-Lololol that’s my head canon/ my own home brew story of Jttw that I’ve been making in my mind, I like to imagine that’s the point where they’re relationship starts to turn for the better and instead of reluctant companions they become friends who wish to protect each other in every way, no matter the cost. They are representative of the mind and the heart, like in most cases they clash and argue, resent and fear each other, but when finding balance and harmony throughout their journey the mind and heart grow closer and work as one. They’re relationship to me is something more than friendship, it’s love but not romantic love, but it’s also not familial love like a father and son, though some translations of the book describe their relationship as such I’d like to think of it as something deeper. Again not romantic kissy love. These babes are Buddhists lololol but it is more than friendship. I might post my version of the story on here and you can interpret as you please, father son, a couple, friends, enemies. But know that in the end what him and sun wukong have is complex, it can not be summed up in one word. At least that’s my take on them,

Also the other scars are from demons, getting captured and such, the scar between his eyebrows he got as a baby, and the read on his wrists are from rope burn, again from being tied up and captured.

I like to see the monk as having a fit build despite acting and appearing weak, though he does not know what to do with this rocking bod he has. (This drawing was inspired by gidget… I loved their reference for their tang and decided I would make my own concept sheet depicting his scars and body type as well.)

I want to start posting my dynamic stuff on here and actually drawing my Jttw ideas… I just get really perfectionist about them and end up only liking the art after a year goes by and it’s too late to post them….

If you made it here tell me what you think, I’ve spent like 5 minutes writing this and my cat is chirping angrily at me cause she wants me to pet her lolololol so pouty, my cute baby is throwing a fit

Sorry if you think these takes are trash it’s just my headcanons, they might change overtime though

[bidisasterevankinard]

Buck and Tommy aren’t together though, so it wouldn’t be cheating from both perspectives. If you’ve headcanoned them in a deep relationship it might, but in canon it wouldn’t be. I don’t see them having a conversation where they’re talking about being exclusive either tbh. Lou was signed for a 4 ep arc so his last ep is due any time now

I'll start with saying I was shipping buddie since 2021, but arrrrrrr how I hate some fans who thinks that buddie canon can justify anything

First, between coffee date and wedding I'm almost sure will happen at least some weeks, so Buck will have time to defying relationship with Tommy, at least asking about being exclusive (you don't ask people you don't want to be exclusive with to your sis wedding). Second, Buck wants something meaningful and it can't happen from him cheating on a guy HE CLEARLY LIKES, no matter how you tries to prove his not. Third, Eddie and Marisol are in serious relationships and from Eddie's side it can be REAL(as you don't see bucktommy as cheating THIS ONE IS CHEATING) cheating.

Also, Lou was FIRSTLY sight up for 4 episodes, before they made bi Buck and bucktommy arc, and Tim still works on last episodes, do you really think Tommy will end his arc in 7x6 when he is clearly pretty popular? Well, surprise he most likely will stay

Now, the problematic of people like you who screams about buddie being PERFECT couple and it's normal to them to cheat on their partners, who did nothing wrong to them and being supportive and gentle, no matter how long they are dating, should be examine. So just because they are your little pretty boys they can cheat now? They can just jump into each other arms without normal build up and no matter that it looks awful and they look like awful people? Be for real and grow up

I'm tired to be respectful to people like you. Next anon like that just will be blocked

[daddy-dotcom]

The Visit

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Things aren’t looking good for Spencer after his visit to Mexico. So you decide to prepare for the worst, and you knew getting married was the only surefire way to stay connected while he was locked up.

Rating: M

Words: 5,333

Warnings: Language, typical canon violence, smut (fingering, p in v, breeding kink if you squint, unprotected sex)

*Disclaimer: Major inaccuracies for how the American prison system works lol*

TL;DR: Spencer and Reader get married so that they can have conjugal visits while he's in prison.

__________________________________________

I couldn’t bear to see him like this. Even worse, I couldnt bear to not be able to hold him and tell him everything was okay. Seeing him behind bars, alone, was enough to make me fight back tears. I’ve seen him hurt before, but this was different. It was almost as if I were staring at the ghost of Spencer Reid. I knew going to Mexico to get his mother’s medication was risky, but I had no idea that he’d end up in this much trouble. I should have stopped him. I should have gone with him. But no matter how guilty I was feeling, the damage was already done. With no concrete evidence that he was framed, it looked like Spencer was most likely going to be found guilty for murder. The love of my life was going to prison and I was completely helpless in the situation. At least I thought I was. . .until an idea struck me. An insane idea, and somewhat of a long shot, but an idea nonetheless, some small way to help Spencer keep his sanity while he was locked up. I wasn’t sure if he would go for it, but I had to try.

“hey, Spence,” I said with my face pressed against the cool metal of the bars.

“hi, (Y/N)” he said with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

“you’re looking more like yourself, baby. And they’re letting you come home with us on the jet.”

He slowly nodded his head in agreement, unsure of what else to say. For a man who typically had so much to say, it was eerie to be in such a silent room.

It’s now or never.

“So Spence, you know I was thinking, in case the…the unthinkable happens, and you aren’t acquitted…” I was fighting back the tears, trying to get my idea across,

“…maybe we should…I think it might be a good idea if we…get married?”

He immediately looked up to meet my gaze, looking more alive than he has the entire time we’ve been in Mexico.

“Married?” he said softly.

“Well it would only be so I can visit you, Spence. I mean like visit you visit you, without all the guards watching us and in a place where I can actually hold you and spend more time with you. Hell, I can’t even hug you for more than a couple seconds during a regular visit”

I could see the gears turning in his mind, something I’ve seen a million times, but I couldn’t tell if he was actually considering my offer.

“It’s been a year Spence, it’s not like we haven’t talked about it.”

It’s true. We’ve been dating for over a year now, and we’ve both made it clear that we’d like to marry each other some day. But we never imagined it would be this soon and under these circumstances.

Spencer got up from the bench he’d been sitting on and came over to hold my hand through the bars.

“Even if I weren’t facing prison time…it would be an absolute honor to marry you, (Y/N)”

All of the tension in my body melted away now that I knew he was on board with my proposition. I gave him a warm smile as he gently cupped my face in his hands. He planted a soft kiss on my forehead and held onto my hand before getting down on one knee.

“If we’re going to do this, I’d at least like to propose to you properly,” he said, with as much of a smile as he could muster.

“(YFN/YLN), will you marry me?” he asked.

The dam finally broke and I couldn’t fight back the tears any longer. They began to stream down my face as I let out a firm and resounding “Yes.”

______________________________

I was practically squirming in my seat on the plane ride home. It was almost impossible to keep this secret and it took everything I had not to blurt out our plan. I knew that I had to tell them soon, since we were going to need their help to make this happen. With a deep breath, I pulled Spencer up from our seats and marched over to the rest of the team.

“Guys, Spencer and I have an announcement to make,”

“Oh my god you’re not pregnant, are you?” said JJ.

“No! No, it’s not that,” I replied, I hesitated before dropping the bomb.

“Spencer and I are getting married.”

Prentiss and JJ exchanged a confused look while Alvez’s mouth hung open in shock. Rossi, however, seemed to know exactly what was going on.

“Oh I get it, you two want to get married so that (Y/N) can request ‘family visits.’” The implications of putting the word ‘family visits’ in airquotes was not lost on me. “You all might of heard of what they used to call them back in the day: conjugal visits.”

“Actually the practice conjugal visits have evolved into a more family oriented experience. Modern family visits usually last the weekend and include children and other family members besides just a spouse.”

“Glad to see you’re almost back to normal, kid” quipped Rossi.

“Well if we’re going to do this, we’re going to need some help. Prentiss, do you have anyone that can meet us at Quantico and marry us on such short notice?” I asked.

“I’m already making the call.”

“Does anyone else think this is just a little bit crazy? There’s a good chance that Spence won’t even go to prison at all,” JJ said.

Alvez snapped out of his daze and interjected.

“I agree, but if Reid and (Y/N) get to spend some alone-time together in the event that he does go, I don’t see the harm. I mean come on, Rossi’s been married like what, five times?”

“Hey, it’s only been three times,” Rossi responded.

“Look, JJ, you would do it for Will, wouldn’t you?”

She paused for a minute, pondering my question.

With a sympathetic look, JJ responded

“of course I would.”

_________________________________

As soon as we landed, we were greeted by Garcia and the court officiant who Prentiss had called on the plane. Garcia nearly tackled us coming out of the elevator, completely overjoyed to see Spencer home in one piece.

“Oh I’m so glad you’re all home safe!” she said squeezing us in a tight embrace.“But I can’t believe I had to find out about your engagement via a text from Alvez!”

“Sorry Penn, it was super last minute,” I said with a shrug.

“I brought you some things while you were on the plane ride home. (Y/N), for you I got a white dress, sorry I had to guess on the size, and Reid I asked your mom’s nurse if it was okay to grab a clean suit from your apartment.”

“Oh Penn, you didn’t have to do all this. Where did you even find a dress on such short notice?”

“Emily’s not the only one with connections sweet cheeks,” she said with a wink.

“Thank you so much, really Penn I appreciate it.”

“No need to thank me, now you and boy-wonder go get dressed so we can get you hitched.”

I took the bag from Penelope and inspected its contents once inside the bathroom. It was a simple but gorgeous white gown. It came down to about my calves, and it had white cap sleeves with a sweetheart neckline.

Classy. The woman has good taste.

I took a deep breath before exiting the stall, and I was greeted by Penelope, Emily, and JJ standing by the sink.

They all turned their heads towards me and gasped before looking me up and down.

“You look absolutely stunning,” said Emily.

“Spence is definitely gonna cry when he sees how gorgeous you look,” added JJ.

The tears had already started streaming down Penelope’s face as she walked over to me and placed one of her bracelets on my wrist.

“There, now you have your something blue,” she said with teary eyes. “You make the most beautiful bride (Y/N)”

“I’d love to stay in here and continue this little bachelorette party but our court official is waiting out there to marry our two lovebirds,” said Emily.

With one final look in the mirror, I took a deep breath and headed out the door, on my way to officially become Mrs. Spencer Reid. The reality of marriage hadn't hit me until just now. Who can blame me? I'd only become someone's fiancé about 5 hours ago. My palms began to sweat as my priorities shifted towards my impending marriage. Even if I wasn't ready, it was my idea in the first place and I intended to keep my end of the bargain. I, however, was more worried about Spencer. What if he was having second thoughts? I barely brought the idea up to him a few hours ago, and he was coming off of drugs in a Mexican jail cell when he agreed. Just as I was begging to spiral, a hand grazed the side of my waist and Spencer appeared. He cleaned up surprisingly well given the circumstances, looking incredibly handsome in his suit.

"Nervous?" he asked. As a profiler and a genius, there was no way I was going to be able to conceal my nerves from him.

"Spence, don't you know you're not supposed to see me in my dress before the ceremony?" I joked.

"(Y/N), you know I don't believe in superstitions," he said wryly.

"But yes, I am little nervous, mostly because I was afraid you might be having second thoughts."

He smiled warmly, the same way he had done when he agreed to marry me earlier in the day.

"Living in Vegas, and working with Rossi, I've known quite a bit of people who've gotten married on a whim. While it might be a little sooner than we thought, it's giving me a chance to hold you close in case I..." his voice began to crack and I could see his eyes welling up, "...in case I get taken into custody. But trust me, (Y/N), there was never a doubt in my mind about marrying you, especially now that I'm seeing how beautiful you look in a wedding dress."

I was tearing up too, at this point, for about the fifth time today. I took both of his hands in mine and simply said "I love you Spence,"

"I love you too, (Y/N)."

____________________________________________

We walked hand in hand into the briefing room where everyone was waiting anxiously for us and Spencer and I took our place across from each other in front of the court official. We joined hands once more and I could see Penelope shoot me a thumbs while Alvez gave Spence a reassuring pat on the back. The official began to speak which caused my heart to practically beat out of my chest.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here tonight to join this man and this woman in matrimony."

He turns toward Spencer before speaking again.

“Spencer, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do” he said while maintaining my gaze. I could see tears start to form in the corners of his eyes, causing my eyes to well up too. But I couldn’t cry, because if I started now, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

“(Y/N), do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

“I do,” I manage to say with a lump forming in my throat.

The court official turns back to Spencer and asks him to repeat after him.

"I, Spencer Reid, take you (Y/N), to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,” I could hear his voice start to crack as he fought back more tears, “in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

He said this with such conviction that there was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to marry this man. I’d never seen his eyes so full of love before. It was those kind eyes looking back at me that turned one of the worst days into the happiest day of my life. Now, it was my turn to recite my vows and officially become Mrs. Reid.

“I, (YFN/YLN), take you, Spencer Reid, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

It took everything in my power not to become a blubbering mess during my vows. Penelope, however, had no problem letting the tears flow freely down her rosy pink cheeks.

"By virtue of the authority vested in me under the laws of the District of Columbia, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

The court official gave a small smile before turning to Spencer and saying “you may kiss the bride."

Spencer wasted no time moving his hands to sit comfortably on my hips and I pulled his face in close for a kiss. This was something we’d done a million times before, but never for an audience. As soon as his lips touched mine, however, it felt as if we were the only two people in the room. All the exhaustion, pain, and suffering from the events of Mexico seemed to melt away as we kissed. He continued to press his lips more forcefully against mine and I could feel the slightest brush of his tongue before a voice spoke up from the crowd.

“Alright you two save it for the honeymoon,” Rossi joked.

We slowly pulled away and both our our cheeks began to blush like teenagers who’d just been caught by their parents. One by one, our team members came over to congratulate us and Penelope and JJ wanted a million pictures. We spent the rest of our night talking, laughing, and even dancing with our team members, just happy to find joy in this moment of darkness. Little did we know, Mexico was only the beginning of our troubles.

________________________________

Our wedding celebrations were cut short with the announcement that the FBI would not be legally representing Spencer since he broke protocol and didn’t inform them of his trip to Mexico. Once he went to trial, we still had no concrete evidence that he was framed, and his DNA was found on the murder weapon. Our worst nightmare had finally come true. Spencer was taken into custody and and whisked away to prison. A small part of me was grateful that I was now legally his wife, but I still wished that it didn’t have to happen under these circumstances. The day he was taken to prison, I immediately applied to be granted family visits and I begged Prentiss and Alvez to call in every favor they could to get moved up the waitlist. It was going to take a couple of months for Spencer to prove he was behaving in prison, but I could still visit him regularly before then. A couple of weeks after he was taken into custody, he was finally allowed to have visitors, and the team all unanimously agreed that I should be his first one. I wasn’t granted a family visit just yet, but I needed to see his face and finally be able to talk to him.

As I walked into the Millburn Correctional Facility, I was searched, went through a metal detector, and searched again before I was led into a room filled with a long partition and chairs on either side. I found a seat in the corner that had no one on either side of me and waited for Spencer to arrive. I nervously tapped my finger on the table as I anxiously waited to see my husband for the first time since he was taken to prison. I turned my head to see a tall, lanky figure in a white t-shirt and blue pants with a matching blue button up walking towards me. I could see his eyes light up when he spotted me and I could feel my entire being do the same.

“Hi baby,” I said, just happy to finally see him.

“Hi my love,” he replied with a ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips. I could tell he was slightly thinner and probably not sleeping well. However, his casual outfit combined with his shaggy hair and the growing stubble on his face somehow made him even more attractive.

“You look good baby, you holding up okay so far?”

“I'm doing okay, given the circumstances. How's my mom? Is she doing alright?"

"She's doing fine actually, Cassie said that she was having a really good day yesterday."

"Where did you, uh, tell her I was?"

"Uh, the beach," I told him with a chuckle, "well she asked if that's where you were and it seemed to make her happy so..."

"Good."

There was a pause and I couldn't tear my eyes away from his gaze. He wasn't breaking eye contact either and I could feel the love behind his stare.

"I, uh, I'm really happy to see you," he said, "I kind of wish you hadn't come, it's uh, not the best idea."

His words hurt slightly, but I knew the state that his mind was in. He didn't want to become a target and he definitely didn't want me to see him like this.

"Sorry Spence, but you're stuck with me," I said with a smile, "you got stuck with me the day you agreed to be my husband. And the last time I saw you, we promised for better or for worse. Besides, this is just the beginning, I've already applied for family visit privileges and we should be getting a date any day now. You don't know how badly I wish I could just hug you, Spence."

I saw him look down, I'm assuming in an attempt to fight back tears, before he spoke again.

"Thank you, (Y/N). I'm so grateful everyday that you're now my wife. But if you're here, that means you're not out working on a case, and I don't want to be a burden."

"That's nonsense Spence, you could never be a burden to me."

"Tell me about the case then, it will help get my mind off... all this."

I proceeded to give him the details of our latest case and I assured him that the rest of the team would be coming by to check in on him and visit him as well. It pained me that I couldn't hug or kiss him goodbye, but I held out hope that it wouldn't be long before I finally could.

While our team members were busy taking turns visiting Spencer in prison, I decided to start writing him letters. Most of them consisted of me catching him up on cases and my personal life, or lack thereof, while others were love letters that expressed just how much I truly missed him. Even though Spencer Reid is a certified genius and an excellent agent, at the end of the day he was still just a man and I knew that the stress that came with being in prison combined with not being able to touch me everyday was likely driving him insane. Luckily, our prayers had been answered and all of the favors from Prentiss and Alvez came through. I finally received a date for my family visit with Spencer, which would be three weeks from now. In the meantime, I began penning a letter to Spencer to tell him the good news. But this wouldn't be one of our typical letters; this letter was going to be much dirtier in nature. I had to admit that I too was starting to feel the effects from the lack of physical contact. So in my letter, I was going to tell him exactly what I wanted to do with him at our "family visit."

_______________________________

The day had finally arrived. Not only was I going to be able to see my husband, I was going to be able to hug him, touch him, hold him, and kiss him…among other things. In all honesty, I was just excited to see him with some semblance of normalcy. I had been researching spousal visits for the past three weeks, and the general consensus was that all of these women were dressing to impress. So I put on my nicest skirt, tight-fitting one that I had previously purchased with the intention of wearing to work but it was slightly too short for the office, and a floral blouse with spaghetti straps that was just low-cut enough to see the top of my cleavage. I paired the outfit with nude stilettos and fixed up my hair and makeup as nicely as I could. While my outfit certainly didn’t leave everything to the imagination, I still had to maintain a certain level of modesty. After all, I was still a federal agent.

The search process for spousal visits was much more intense, so much so that I couldn’t even bring my phone into the room with me. I was, however, allowed to bring books and a chess set for Spencer. I made my way through a longer hallway than the one I had gone through the last time, which led out to a courtyard where a row of temporary buildings sat. I was then escorted into one of the 4 rooms in the building and I was instructed to wait for the guards to bring Spencer in. I sat with my legs crossed on the bed in the middle of the room, which was unsurprisingly bare. The room resembled a somewhat nice motel room, with a kitchenette in one corner, a couch in the other, and a separate bathroom. The only sounds I could hear in the room were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the pounding of my heart in my chest. I wasn't nervous to see my husband, it was actually just the opposite. I was positively inpatient at the thought of finally being able to make physical contact with the love of my life. In an effort to distract myself, I poked around the bedside table, knowing damn well what I was going to find. There were more innocent items in the drawer, like soap and toothpaste, and right next to it were lubricant and condoms. We won't be needing those, I thought to myself with a smirk forming at the corner of my lips. I was startled by a knock at the door and quickly shut the door. I quickly adjusted my top and fixed my hair before replying.

"Come in!"

The door slowly swung open to reveal a handcuff-free Spencer standing in the doorway. He stood frozen in place, looking at me in disbelief that I was actually here. I stood up from my spot on the bed and ran over to give him the biggest hug. I squeezed my arms around his torso and buried my face in his chest. We stood like this for a moment, in the doorway, just familiarizing ourselves with each other once again.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to do that, Spence."

I finally lifted my head up to get a good look at him while snaking my hands up to cup is face.

"Trust me, I've probably been more desperate to hug you than you have,"

"Oh really?" I asked with raised eyebrows, "you know this isn't a competition right?"

"Oh, I know. But if it was, I would win," he said, with the slightest hint of a playful smirk.

I took Spencer's hand in mine and pulled him over to my spot where I was sitting when he arrived. Our hands stayed connected as we sat side by side on the edge of the bed. While I was admittedly aroused at the thought of finally being able to make love again, all of those thoughts melted away when I finally saw him. Truthfully, I was just happy to spend some quality time with him and give him a break from this awful situation.

"How have you been since the last time I saw you, love?"

"I've been doing okay, mostly trying to keep my head down. I guess you could say I made a friend, though. His name is Calvin Shaw-"

"The agent who killed his informant?!" I exclaimed.

"Well yes, but he's the only one who knows I'm a federal agent and he's been pretty generous. Getting me moved to my own cell, giving me books and playing chess with me."

I gently placed a kiss on his forehead and began to stroke his beautiful veiny hand with my thumb.

"I'm just happy you're not completely alone in there baby"

"I've managed to make some connections, but what's been keeping me going is the thought of seeing you. I've actually been looking forward to this since the last time we spoke. . . and I haven't been able to stop thinking about that letter you sent me."

A wicked smile crept onto my lips as I realized which letter exactly he was referring to.

"Oh that letter! I'm glad you enjoyed it baby, I meant every word. I've been missing you in more ways than one. . ." I said, moving my free hand to his thigh. He inhaled deeply at my touch and his gaze was locked on mine.

"Well you don't have to miss me anymore, love, I'm right here. If we're being honest, I don't think I'll be able to focus on our conversation until I've had my way with you," he said, moving one hand to slide his fingers into my hair. I melted into his touch then I leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"You can have me, baby, any way you want," I replied, trying my best to look up at him with doe eyes.

He forcefully leaned in to place his lips on mine, and now both of his hands were tugging at my hair. This kiss was passionate, but in a way we've never experienced before. Since we've met, we've never spent more than a few days apart. This kiss was different, it was filled with longing and desperation. Months of going without physical contact has finally led to this moment. The moment when dam finally breaks and the sexual tension that's been building in our written correspondence comes to the surface.

One hand stayed pulling my hair while the other made its way to my breast. Equally touch starved, I moved my hand up his thigh to palm the now evident bulge forming in his pants. He hissed in response and I used then opportunity to force my tongue further into his mouth. He began to suck on it and I moaned into him at the feeling. He abruptly moved from my mouth and started working down towards my neck."

"You know," he said, breathlessly, between kisses "after you sent me that letter, I couldn't help myself. I'm lucky I have my own cell, I had to get some relief or else I would've gone insane."

"You're not the only one baby, " I replied in a daze as he continued tome further down my neck, "I would touch myself at night wishing it was your fingers inside of me."

He grunted at my words and buried his face in my breasts.

"You wore this top just for me didn't you?"

"Mhm, just for you."

"I think it's time we see what's underneath," he said as he pulled the shirt swiftly over my head. My lips crashed back into his and I made quick work of undoing the buttons on his shirt. I wasn't used to seeing Spencer in a white t-shirt, so I soaked up the image as best I could before pulling his shirt off and discarding it on the floor.

"You said you missed my fingers, baby?" I sighed a resounding "yes" before he moved his hands up my skirt, barely brushing his fingertips against my panties. I moaned at the contact, and I felt him smirk against my lips before pushing my panties aside and inserting a digit into my wet folds.

"Fuck, Spencer" I groaned as his long fingers stretched inside me.

"You're so tight, love. You really did miss me stretching you out, didn't you?"

"Yes!" I yelled and he began to pump his fingers in and out.

The room filled with the sounds of our moans and Spencer pumping in and out of me. I could feel a familiar pressure tightening in my abdomen, but I needed more of him. I knew he needed me too because I could see his erection straining through his pants. It's almost as if he read my mind because he removed his fingers and placed them in my mouth.

"Fuck, I need you so badly, (Y/N)," he said as I sucked on his fingers.

Not bothering to take off my skirt, I laid back on the bed as he pushed up the fabric and pulled off my panties. He undid his own pants and threw them haphazardly onto the floor along with his underwear. He brushed his fingers along my now exposed cunt, gathering my arousal on his fingertips.

"You're so wet for me baby, it's driving me insane."

He slid his hard length along my pussy, which earned a moan from the both of us before he pushed the tip into me.

"Oh my god, Spence," I whined. He was stretching me out so well since I haven't had him inside me in weeks.

"Baby you're so tight," he said, letting his mouth hang open in pleasure.

"Please, Spence. . .fuck me," I pleaded. He wasted no time and began to give me deep strokes. I moaned at every thrust, which only motivated him to thrust harder and deeper. His pace became relentless as the tip of his length was now hitting my cervix.

"Fuck, Spencer, come for me. I want you to fill me up, baby."

"Anything for you, love," he said, giving me everything he has.

"I want your babies Spencer, please!" I screamed, knowing full well that I was on the pill and that wasn't going to happen. . . yet.

That was all it took for him to spill his load inside of me. We both became moaning messes as he came. Once he was finished, he rolled off of me and ran to the bathroom to help me clean up. I went to pee, and when I returned, Spencer laid his head on my chest and we sat, cuddled in silence, until nightfall. Under the cover of darkness, I could hear quiet sobs coming from Spencer and I felt little drops of tears on my breasts.

"Baby are you okay? What's wrong my love?" I said, raking my hands through his soft wavy locks.

"I don't want to go back in there," he said, like a child, in barely more than a whisper.

"I wish I could stay here with you indefinitely. I wish I never had to sleep apart from you again. I was trying to be strong for you, (Y/N), but it's so much worse than I imagined."

I didn't press him for details, but I couldn't help but begin to cry in sympathy.

"Listen to me, Spence. I can't even being to understand what you're going through, but you are the strongest person I know. I also know that you have a team of people behind you who love you and will stop at nothing to prove you're innocent. Just remember that every time you're lonely or scared, baby. And we'll keep visiting you and sending you letters and books, anything we can do to keep your mind busy."

"Thank you, my love," he said, slowly rising up to plant a kiss on my lips.

"For better or for worse remember?"

"For better or for worse."

He spent the rest of the night lying on my chest as I stroked his hair and lulled him to sleep, avoiding the dread of being separated in the morning for as long as we could.

_________________________________________

AN: Finally finished this fic omg it was a long time coming. But I've been busy in medical assisting school and this one required a lot more research than my previous works lol. But finally happy with the result and please show it some love. Thanks to all my moots for believing in this :)

Taglist:

@reidscaffeine @swaggysagiewagie@v-i-o-l-e-t@louderfortheback

@sadroses98@lauravegann @coldoaftoadzipper-blog@avis-writeshq@inkwriter122 @bitchysweetskitty @cryingoverfelix@whyisitdifferent@namjoonspinkytoenail@thatsonezesty13 @singinghamtaro-blog@abbeyskeff@cassie444

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 7

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, bit of smut.

Word Count: 4,813

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: Chapter 7 has arrived. 😊 I hope you enjoy it! Thanks so much to everyone who has been reading, liking, commenting and reblogging this series! It means SO much! ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

Three and a half weeks later

“And these would be beside every tent?” Dean asked Brandy as he looked at the rough drawings she’d made of her latest idea.

She nodded. “Yeah, on the West side of every tent. It would mean families don’t have to come to Food Storage every few days for more rations, and once the deep snow comes that’s gonna be a huge benefit for folks. Plus it’s easier for people to plan ahead and stretch their food if they have two weeks worth of rations sitting outside their tent. I mean, it won’t work once spring comes, but that’s a problem for spring.”

Dean nodded. He looked at their builders, the group of half a dozen survivors that were tasked with providing new buildings and necessities as the camp required. They’d built the sheds earlier in the year, the chicken coop last summer and were currently finishing up a small barn for the cow.

“Is this gonna interfere with completing the barn?” He asked, nodding at Brandy’s drawings. 

One of the women, he was pretty sure her name was Vanessa, shook her head. “No, we’ll be finished with the barn in a couple of days, and be able to get Lily settled for the winter all snug, and then move on to the food sheds.” She looked at the drawing again and shrugged. “They’re small enough that we should be able to get them all done within a few weeks?” 

She looked to the rest of the builders who nodded their agreement.

Dean frowned. “Lily?”

Vanessa grinned. “Yeah, sorry that’s what the kids have dubbed our little cow. Y/N has them going to visit her once a week so Ralph can teach them about farming.” She said, referring to the old farmer who had helped to plant the winter vegetables.

Dean felt his stomach twist as it always did when someone brought up her name. But he just nodded. “Okay, good. Get started on the food sheds as soon as you’re able. The deep snow is gonna come in the next couple weeks. It’d be good to have them all done by then.”

They all gave a chorus of “Okay, Boss” or “Sure thing Boss” as they nodded and took their leave. They wrapped their scarves tight and pulled on their mittens. The deep snow may not have come yet, but the ground was layered in white, and winter was sharp and stinging in the late November air.

Brandy gathered up her drawings and was headed out when Dean called her back.

“Brandy?”

She turned back to him, an eyebrow raised in question. They'd never discussed their meeting in the cabin with Y/N, but he'd noticed a slightly colder demeanor from her lately.

And he knew why, of course. 

Brandy had been one of the original dozen survivors who had built the camp together. She'd been an incredible asset from the beginning, and they probably wouldn't have survived without her planning and strategies for running the camp. He and the soldiers may have kept the survivors alive, but Brandy kept them living by organizing and planning for their food and shelter. She was an invaluable member of the camp.

But three weeks ago he'd treated her like a servant meant to do his bidding. He knew he owed her an apology, but it had been so long since he'd apologized for anything that it stuck in his throat.

Now she contemplated him, waiting for him to speak, and he just nodded. He pointed towards her drawings. 

“This is a good idea.” He cleared his throat. “So, thanks.”

Brandy stared a moment longer before a small smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. She nodded.

“No problem, Boss. That's what we're all here for, right?”

Dean just nodded and she lifted her scarf over her face and left the big cabin where Dean conducted most of his business these days, since it was warmer than his tent and could fit more people.

As he ran a hand over his face, the door opened again and most of his soldiers tromped inside. They were there to talk about security and possible threats, but Dean immediately looked at Johnston. 

“Hey, did you tell her I want to see her?”

The thin man nodded vigorously. “Yes sir. I told her yesterday. Has…has she not come to see you yet?” He looked around the room as though Y/N might be hiding somewhere. 

Dean shook his head. “No, she hasn't.” He pointed towards the door. “So why don't you go get her and tell her I expect to see her now.”

Johnston looked wary and as though he definitely didn't want to follow that order. But when Dean just stared him down, he turned and left quickly.

The rest of his soldiers began giving their reports about any problems they were having at the outposts, like equipment that needed repair or items that needed replenishing. But Dean was only half listening; his gaze kept straying to the door, waiting for Y/N to show. 

Ten minutes later, Patrick was briefing him and Dean tried to focus on what he was saying. 

“Williams has seen the group twice now, but -” Patrick cut himself off as Y/N and Johnston pushed through the door.

Y/N smiled at the soldiers as she came in. “Sorry to interrupt, but apparently I was summoned.” 

She cut her glance to Dean and her smile turned brittle. 

“I was told you needed to see me.”

“Yeah, since yesterday.” Dean responded, hardening his voice in an attempt to not seem desperate, especially in front of his soldiers.

“Sorry. Busy.” Was Y/N's curt reply. “What do you need?”

Dean took a deep breath. “I just wanted to know how you're -” he altered his words, “your school, or, uh, the school was going?”

Y/N paused for a moment before answering with a shrug. 

“Fine.”

When it was clear that was all she was going to say, Dean scowled at her. “You wanna elaborate on that?”

She raised her chin a fraction. “Oh, I'm sorry, Boss, I don’t have anything else to say right now, but I’ll be sure to write out a full report for next week.”

Her eyes shot daggers that found their mark, bringing a pain to his chest that he felt a lot these days. He’d thought it might go away if he could talk to her, see her, but it was just worse with her there.

He shook his head. “That won't be necessary.” He said quietly.

“Anything else then, Sir?”

He'd never hated that moniker more. “No, that's it.” 

She spun on her heel and walked out of the cabin. Silence reigned when she left. Dean waved at everyone else. “We'll finish this another time.” When they didn't immediately move, he made his voice a bit sharper. 

“Dismissed.”

That got them moving and they all shuffled their way out the door - all except Risa. She closed the door behind her fellow soldiers and then turned back to face Dean. 

He caught her eye and lifted his hands. “What?”

She shook her head slowly. “You're such an idiot.”

Dean dropped his hands and raised an eyebrow. “Wanna try that again?”

Risa shook her head as she walked back to him. “No, I said what I said.” 

Dean gave her a look of annoyance as she reached him and leaned one hip on the table where he stood. She raised her hand to his cheek, her countenance softening. 

“I really wanted to be the one.”

Dean scowled in confusion. “The one what?”

Risa pushed her fingers through his short hair. “The one to make you smile.” There was a long pause between them and Dean had no idea how to respond to that. She shook her head and stood up straight, dropping her hand. “But, it was obviously meant to be her.”

Dean scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

“Y/N. You know I'm talking about Y/N.”

He gave a short burst of sarcastic, humorless laughter. “Yeah, right. You think Y/N's gonna make me smile? I've done nothing but pull my hair out since she got here, so ..” He trailed off and looked away from Risa's knowing gaze.

Risa nodded. “Yeah, cause you're an idiot.” She reiterated.

When he looked back at her, Risa was smiling softly and wistfully. “Apologize to her, idiot. Try to get back what you've nearly lost. She's pissed, don't get me wrong, it might take some real groveling on your part but,” she nodded, “she has a very kind heart, so she might forgive you. It's definitely worth a try.”

Dean stared at her for a moment before he looked down at the ground, conceding the truth in her words. “I don't know how to do it.”

Risa gave a gentle laugh. “You're a smart guy. Bet you'll figure it out.”

She put her hand on his cheek again, resting the other on his chest as she stood on tiptoe to reach his lips. She placed a light, lingering kiss there and then pulled away. 

“Goodbye, Dean.”

Dean felt a jolt of worry at the farewell. “You’re leaving? Am I losing a soldier?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No, the soldier is staying. I'm saying goodbye to the woman I wanted to be for you. And the man that she…cared about a lot. I hope he lets himself be happy.”

Dean frowned, feeling the weight of her goodbye, with all of its disappointed hopes. 

“Goodbye Risa.” He said, and knowing it wasn't enough, he cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her lips, light and brief. “Thank you…for being the woman you are.”

He thought he saw a glimmer of moisture in her eye, but she blinked it away quickly and pulled out from under his hands. She moved to the door in a few strides and, with one last smile thrown over her shoulder, she walked away.

***

That afternoon as the winter sun headed into the west, Dean made the decision to go talk to Y/N. This was ridiculous. They were a camp of less than 150 people, continuing to try and avoid each other was impractical.

He'd just go tell her that.

He walked to the school because she was usually still there this time of day. But when he got there, the schoolroom was empty. He looked around the space that he hadn't seen in over a month and had to shake his head.

What had been a cold empty shed not even three months ago was now a warm, inviting, cozy space. She'd had a little camp stove installed, and on the Northern wall, replacing the fall leaves that had been there, was a giant, beautifully sewn quilt. He recognized it as the same design as the one that hung in the big cabin. 

Hannah, who was Ralph-the-farmer's wife, had made it out of old scraps of material. It took a long time to gather enough scraps for a whole quilt so he knew this quilt probably took her months of hard work. But of course she'd gifted it to Y/N and the school. That's what Y/N brought out in people - hard work and generosity.

The small wooden table in the room had four chairs around it now and he wondered where she'd snagged the other two chairs. 

The kids’ blanket seating had been enhanced slightly with the addition of a few pillows, and on the western wall, beside the old map, two long, weathered planks of wood had been nailed in place to serve as bookshelves. The books he'd brought back had been placed lovingly on the shelves, not a single corner bent on any of them. 

He sighed at the changes and felt a warmth flare to life in his heart. Y/N did this too - seeming to warm the spaces around her without trying.

He walked out of the schoolroom and was just starting to walk back to his tent when he heard high pitched giggles coming from the side of the school just seconds before three small bodies hurtled forward, chasing and grabbing on to one another - Emma and her two little friends. He couldn't remember their names.

When they all saw him, the laughter fell away and Emma's eyes got wide, fear and suspicion filling them instantly. It felt like a punch when he remembered the way she'd climbed up on the chair beside him that one time, shy acceptance in her expression as she asked him to read to her.

He hated that she was so scared of him; he had to try and fix that much, at least. 

“Hi girls.” He said in what he hoped was a friendly sounding voice. Emma's friends nodded and waved at him slightly. But Emma stayed on high alert.

He looked at her two friends. “I need to talk to Emma, so you girls head on home now.” 

They looked to Emma who looked more scared than ever. But she whispered goodbye to them and they ran off.

Dean got a bit closer to her and went down on his haunches. He took a second to think what to say to her.

“You know, you don't have to be scared of me.”

“I'm not.” Emma said quickly while her big blue eyes were shrouded in fear.

Dean nodded. “Okay, good because…” He struggled to find the words that would help. “Cause I thought maybe I scared you a bit before. When I, uh, needed to talk to your mom alone.”

Emma nodded, the suspicion growing in her gaze. “When you were mad at Mommy.”

Dean shook his head. “No, I wasn't mad.” 

Emma gave him a look that said she didn't believe him and he conceded with a nod. 

“Okay, I was a little…upset, but I was just…confused. Eventually everything got figured out.”

She didn't say anything, clearly still highly skeptical. 

Dean took a deep breath and decided  to just go for it. “Anyway, I didn't mean to scare you and I'm…sorry about it.” He cleared his throat. “And I promise not to scare you like that again. Okay?”

Emma stared at him for a long time and he kept hold of her earnest blue gaze throughout her scrutiny. Slowly a smile spread across her face.

“Okay.” She said, accepting him at his word. “Then can you come over again for supper tonight? I can read a bunch of words now, mommy taught me in the books. So, I could help you read the story this time.”

Dean shook his head at the speedy ways of forgiveness in a child's heart, and for the first time in more years than he could remember, a small smile turned up one side of his mouth. 

He reached out to pat her cold cheek. “I'm not sure, kiddo. We'll have to wait and see.” Emma was about to argue the point but Dean stood up. “Now it's gonna be dark soon and it's way too cold for you to be out here without a scarf. Don't you have one?” He asked.

Emma nodded. “Yeah, but I don't like it. It itches.”

Dean hummed. “Ah, yeah wool does that sometimes.” He unwound his own scarf from around his neck.

“Here, I'll trade you.” He said as he wound the polyester scarf around her neck and up over her cheeks. “Now, you head home.”

Emma's eyes were bright and happy above her new scarf as she danced away, skipping through the light snow that blanketed the ground.

He watched her go for a moment before turning back to head home himself. But he stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Y/N standing in the path with an arm full of wood. Silence reigned for nearly a full minute. Finally he reached forward to take the wood, but Y/N shook her head.

“No, I’m fine.” She nodded toward the school. “Just stocking up for tomorrow.”

“Right.” 

More silence. Y/N’s voice was quiet when she finally spoke. “Thank you for the scarf. It’s been impossible to get her to wear one.”

He nodded and then realized something. “How long were you standing there?”

Y/N took a deep breath, answering on an exhale. “Since just before you promised my daughter not to scare the shit out of her again.”

Dean nodded and closed his eyes. “So, basically the whole time.”

“Yeah, basically.” She took a beat pause. “Thank you for that.” 

Dean nodded. She walked towards the school again but before she could close the door and shut him out, Dean called to her, knowing his voice sounded desperate.

“I needed to believe it.”

Y/N turned in the doorway, a frown on her face. “Needed to believe what?”

He took a step closer, feeling choked by all the words he wanted to say that wouldn’t form properly in his mind. Y/N stared at him for a moment more before huffing slightly and walking into the schoolroom. He followed her inside, closing the door against the wind as she dropped the pile of wood into a metal bucket by the stove.

When she turned back to face him, she was scowling. “Dean, I don’t know what you want here. What do you want me to say?”

He shook his head. He didn’t want her to say anything. He wanted to say things, so many things. “No, nothing.” He croaked out.

She crossed her arms over her chest, bunching up her too big jacket. “Then what are you doing here?”

He took deep breaths in through his nose, pushing the words out through a closed throat. “I needed to believe it.” He said again, quieter this time.

“Believe what?” Y/N asked in frustration.

He stepped close to her and she took a step back before refusing to retreat. He gazed at her and wished more than anything that she really could just see inside his head so he wouldn’t have to try and get it out.

But he looked at the ground quickly and then back at her. His breathing was slightly labored and his voice was thin as he spoke. “You’re so dangerous to me, Y/N.”

He knew he said the wrong words when her forehead wrinkled into a deep frown and she nodded. “Because - I’m a psychic monster? Or because I’m a croat? Why exactly am I dangerous this time?”

“Because you’re you.” Dean answered loudly, speaking over the end of her question. He sighed in frustration; he was getting all of this wrong. He looked up to the heavens, as though they could possibly help him, and tried again, speaking softer.

“I needed to believe that you could control my mind or my…my feelings because…” He trailed off and looked at Y/N hoping she’d just know what he was saying and finish the sentence for him. But she was still just frowning in confusion.

“Because,” he continued, “my feelings when I'm around you are…dangerous. For me, I mean, they’re dangerous. Y/N I can’t…” He shook his head. “The way you look at the world? And the way you change how I see it too? It’s so fucking dangerous.”

He waved his hand, trying to encompass everything. “This world is ugly and shitty, and fucking ended! We literally lived through the end of the world, and now all that’s left is this - this dark, violent, bullshit reality.” 

He shook his head and his voice was filled with awe. “Yet somehow you move through it like this,” again he struggled for the words to describe her, “like some kind of lighthouse, like a refuge for every cold, lost thing. And I - “

He cut himself off, not sure he was making any sense. But Y/N had stopped frowning and was now just contemplating him.

He shrugged. “And when I’m around you, I feel warmer than I’ve felt in years, brighter.” He shook his head and moved away from her, embarrassed by his confession and knowing he wasn't saying it right. 

He stared at the map as he spoke. “So, I needed to believe that the feelings weren’t real, that you’d just forced me to feel that way. Because if the feelings and thoughts you bring out of me are real?” His shoulders slumped. “God, I’m so fucked.”

He felt Y/N come up to stand just behind him on his right, but he stayed staring at the map as she spoke.

“Why? What’s so dangerous about warmth and light?”

His voice was barely audible as he answered slowly. “Because they bring hope. And hope is a lie. It’s a lie I believed for a long time, a lie I clung to. The lie of possibilities, of family, of good conquering evil. And when the lie was revealed and the world fell apart, the truth almost killed me.”

After a moment he turned to face her and felt his heart skip as he saw her expression of sadness and the tears that sparkled in her eyes, even in the growing dusk.

He lifted a hand to cup her cheek and thumbed away a tear as it fell over her bottom lashes. “And Y/N, if I allow myself to hope again, and it gets crushed by the world again…” He shook his head. “I won’t survive it, I know I won’t.”

He took a step closer to her and felt her warmth penetrating his cold bones. She grabbed his free hand and held it in both of hers as he dropped his other hand from her cheek.

“Or…” she said, her voice filled with conviction, “or we can both hope, both fight, and both win. Even if we never get big wins, the little ones still count. And they add up. Every day we’re here alive is a win. Every time we smile at someone and they smile back is a win. Every time the sun shines so bright you have to close your eyes, every time we hear Emma giggle, every time our stomachs are full, every time we do something to make our home here better - every small thing adds up to big wins.”

Dean shook his head. He knew that trying to resist the pull of her light and life was pointless; she’d been pulling him out of the dark, and changing his plans since the moment she’d come into his life. 

He used their connected hands to pull her tight against him and watched heat enter her beautiful, red-ringed eyes.

He bent his head, but before his lips touched hers, he whispered words that came much easier now. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. For all of it. I’m so sorry.”

Another tear fell down her cheek and she smiled and bit her lip. “If I say you’re forgiven will you kiss me?”

He pretended to mull it over and then nodded. “Yes, I think that’s fair.”

In the dusky twilight around them he pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers; his arms tightened around her as she moaned softly. 

He was definitely counting that sound as a win.

***

Over the next month Dean resumed his dinners with Y/N, the difference being that he was there nearly every night, and he’d stopped pretending to himself that he didn’t relish every moment with her and Emma. 

Over the evenings spent together, Emma had warmed more and more to him so that now she ran to meet him every time he walked through their tent flap, holding her arms up so he’d pick her up and toss her up into the air, catching her in a swooping motion as she came down. It made Y/N gasp every time, but Emma squealed with delight. He’d set her down and she’d grab his hand, nearly three times the size of hers, and pull him over to the table.

He’d take off his heavy canvas jacket within the relative warmth of the tent, and drape it over Emma’s shoulders, making her giggle as she drowned inside it. 

They’d sit around the table and share the day's events, though Emma usually did the majority of the talking. It always brought a mixture of feelings when he listened to her bubbly, excited stories. It made him happy and terrified at the same time. She was so precious he couldn’t help but smile, an expression that was becoming easier for him as the days went by. But also, his chest felt tight and he could feel terror creep in as the darkness whispered a warning, telling him that he couldn’t possibly keep her safe. He’d lose her, and Y/N too.

Sometimes that thought woke him from a deep sleep and made him shake and sweat. It was proving incredibly difficult to make all his fears go away. But as soon as he saw Y/N’s smile the next day, it felt easier.

In fact it was becoming increasingly difficult to go home at all, to leave her warm cozy tent and return to his dismal gray one. But they were trying to be careful and move slowly in deference to Emma. They didn’t want her to feel confused or unsure of things now that she finally seemed so at ease. 

So they hid their kisses and their caresses until after Emma was sleeping, at which point they’d usually try and brave the cold long enough to enjoy some alone time, even if it was encumbered by bulky jackets and scarves. They never had enough time, but they’d managed slightly more satisfactory make out sessions in the empty school and in Dean’s tent. But they were always too rushed and things had to end too quickly.

Dean ached for her more and more every day.

One evening in mid December, the air was much milder than usual; the day had been unseasonably warm and the night held on to a trace of it. Dean had Y/N pressed up against the side of the thick canvas tent, sucking on the soft skin just below her ear. As her breath caught and she angled her head so that he had better access, he was practically vibrating with how badly he needed to feel her. 

As he breathed into her mouth, he slowly unzipped her jeans, letting her tell him no if she wanted. But she just nodded and bit her lip.

He watched her face as he slipped his fingers under the waistband of the leggings she wore as an extra layer against the cold, and then down into her panties. He desperately tried to stifle the moan that wanted to escape as he felt how soaking wet she was for him.

“Goddamn.” He whispered roughly as he slid two fingers inside her, rubbing his thumb against her little bundle of nerves and making her bite harder into her lip to keep quiet. He decided to help her out and closed his mouth over hers, swallowing up her small moans.

He pushed in and out of her body, his cock hardening as she gripped his forearm where it disappeared into her pants while her cunt clenched tight around his fingers. He passed his fingers over her sweet spot a couple of times and she fell over the edge. She broke off their kiss to bury a scream in his neck, muffling it with his thick collar. 

As she came down she clung to him, her hot breaths creating puffs of white in the cold air. She moved her hand to cup his hard on through his jeans and was just reaching for his zipper when they suddenly heard Cas’ voice inside the tent.

“Emma, where is your mother and Dean?” 

Dean groaned. What the fuck? Y/N squeaked slightly and pulled her hand back, making him absolutely throb with need. He was gonna slaughter his best friend. 

They were quickly righting their clothing when Emma's voice reached them, and it didn’t really sound like she’d been sleeping.

“They’re outside the tent, kissing each other.”

Y/N’s eyes got huge and round and Dean stifled a snorted laugh behind his palm while she slapped his bicep. 

“It’s not funny. Jesus, we’re gonna traumatize her!” She said in a horrified whisper.

Suddenly Cas’ head poked around the side of the tent and he frowned. “Are you finished kissing?”

Y/N buried her head in Dean’s chest and Dean scowled at the angel. “Well, we sure as hell are now.”

Cas nodded, completely ignoring Dean’s frustration. “Good. You need to come inside. I have incredible news.”

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. “What news, Cas?”

The angel’s smile was surprising in its rarity and it made Dean raise an eyebrow.

“I know why Y/N isn’t a psychic.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

[carowleysposts]

When I tell you I NEED Aziraphale and Crowley to kiss again, I mean it.

Anyone who thinks asexual people don’t kiss (or don’t have sex, but that’s not the point of this post) is misinformed. Asexual people - or celestial beings, for that matter - absolutely can and do express feelings and desires by acting physically upon them. Many ace people enjoy the sensations, the nuances, the feelings involved in the physical expressions of love - the only difference is HOW they experience attraction, which has NOTHING to do with kissing or sex, but with what motivates wanting to do those things.

With that said, let’s go back to everyone’s favorite idiots: Aziraphale and Crowley.

During their kiss, you can literally see them pulling each other in, like they need to be as close as physically possible in that moment. You can see it as Aziraphale embraces Crowley for a split second, and you can see it as Crowley throws himself onto Aziraphale more and more during the kiss. He can’t even pull back for a single second, not even to adjust to the kiss - he just GLUES his lips to Aziraphale’s.

Aziraphale’s look after the kiss CANONICALLY means “do it again, please, right now”, as Rob Wilkins already clarified. And that is writing perfection. It creates the angst - the cue - we need to make sure a second kiss - the reward - happens. I’ve been saying this in almost every post, but here i go again: the whole point of angst is that it HAS to pay off eventually, it HAS to be followed by relief, otherwise it’s just angst for the sake of angst.

Aziraphale mouths “no” as Crowley is leaving. He doesn’t say it, but he wants to. Whatever that means, whatever the reason for the “rejection” after the kiss was, the kiss changed something. He wasn’t expecting it, but he was heartbroken to see that Crowley thought he didn’t want it. You can see him not being able to keep his eyes off the door - and later on, off the window he can see Crowley through. He almost changes his mind - and that is still true even if he had a plan all along, he didn’t think Crowley would KISS him and that blows his mind.

He touches his lips after Crowley leaves. He relives that moment by doing so, but also realizes something completely new: Crowley did what Aziraphale had spent millennia wishing for him to do, but did it in the worst possible moment. He almost loses the strength to carry on with whatever it is his plan required. But he doesn’t. He pulls it together, and goes back to heaven.

Wether Crowley knows he has a plan (the “trust me” theory) or believes he was truly rejected, they both know they crossed that line for good. They both know that, if they’re ever reunited, they will never be able to act like platonic friends again. Aziraphale, in a beautifully made parallel to the ox rib scene, realizes he had been starving for Crowley’s touch. And that is just absolutely beautiful.

If you’ve seen my post about why this couple NEEDS a happy ending, you already know why i think Good Omens is the perfect show to give queer couples back their hopes for love. I think we are all tired of the tragic gays / couple baiting fictional couples. Now we need the happily ever after. The fairytale. The cheesy, chaotic, rom-com-y, EPIC resolution. We NEED them to kiss again. We NEED them to be happy.

I REST MY CASE.

[asherashedwings]

ARS GOETIA OCS (And Paimon redesign ig)

Long post ahead 💀

So like, after the release of the new Helluva Boss trailer, I got SUPER fixated on the Ars Goetia. So I wanted to try my hand at designing my own takes on members not yet shown in the series, as well as crafting some self indulgent lore about the group.

So, I imagine that there are 4 main Goetia families, with each of their houses being in one of the cardinal directions of the Pride Ring. 3 of the 4 families have both a king and a queen at the head, with the 4th only having a king (we’ll get to that).

The couples, and their directions go like this:

Belial (North)

Paimon and Balam (West)

Vine and Zagan (East)

Beleth and Purson (South)

These are just where the kings and queens live. Offspring often move out to other rings, so there’s Goetia influence all throughout Hell.

Each of the kings and queens are also fallen angels, having fallen with Lucifer after the battle in Heaven. For this reason, their crowns appear more halo-like, floating above their heads. Two of them don’t have this on their refs, but that’s just because I designed them before coming up with that idea.

Anyways, to the designs!

Belial

Belial is one of the most powerful members of the Ars Goetia, rivaling the power of the sins, and many mortals think of them synonymous to the Devil himself.

So powerful they can actually reproduce by themself. For this lil hc, I made them a California Condor, a species of bird known to have reproduced without a mate. Also, the look of the condor just goes well with the whole pestilence thing Belial has going on.

I think their cloak is actually wings that come from their back, remnants from their time as an angel. I just didn’t draw them in that second picture cuz I just didn’t feel like it 💀

They’re one of the two I drew before I came up with the whole “halo crown” thing, but I have drawn a doodle of what they would look like now with that concept. It’ll be shown later in the post.

Also, I imagine them being agender, so go with the vibes of “being so powerful, the concept of gender means nothing to them and no word can ever truly describe them”, if that makes sense. Idk, that’s just the vibes I get from them. So I usually refer to them with they/them pronouns, but you can really call them whatever you want.

Paimon

I actually don’t mind Paimon’s canon design all that much. Think it actually goes pretty hard. I more so just wanted to change his species cuz with how I imagine my tweaked version of the Ars Goetia, the parents’ species has no effect on what species the offspring will be. Just as long as they’re bird. So Stolas is still an owl, don’t worry. I decided on making Paimon a raven because Stolas is sometimes described as a raven instead of an owl, so I wanted to pay homage to that.

I also gave him wing arms because he has been said to be able to fly.

That’s about all I got for Paimon

Balam

Balam is Paimon’s wife and also Asmodeus’s sister. I made this decision because when looking at their descriptions, Balam and Asmodeus are described very similarly. They are both chimeras with the head of a man, a bull, and a ram, and both possess a serpent tail. So I decided “fuck it, they’re related now”. This also means Ozzy is Stolas’s uncle, which I think would be an interesting dynamic.

I made Balam a bearded vulture mainly for the fact that Balam is also described to have “fiery eyes” which gave bearded vulture to me, idk.

I imagine her other two heads usually only appear in her more demonic form. They can prolly appear normally too, but I think she doesn’t let them show often.

Vine

Vine is a demon known for construction, and I imagine he built most of the Goetia manors. He makes structures using vines that sprout from his wrists, which then morph into the desired material after the creation is finished.

I decided to make him a Montezuma Oropendola, which are birds known to build large nests out of, you guessed it, vines.

Vine is never escaping the spelling of his name.

Which is also the reason I made him very plant themed. Idk, I just find something so nature-y and alive existing in someplace like Hell to be interesting.

I even wrote a lil world building tidbit about him:

To the east of the Pride Ring rests an overgrown forest, with trees so dense that no light hits the dead grass below and roots so tangled that one cannot hope to get through without getting caught within the knots. But if one ventures far enough, they will see this monstrous forest transform into a lavish jungle. The plants are radiant in their green color, the several ponds sprinkled throughout filled with water that almost sparkles. Within this sanctuary, in a clearing with no true location, sits a grandiose manor; a looming structure almost resembling that of an old European castle, encased in hordes of vines and flowers. The home of King Vine and Queen Zagan — the rulers of the East.

Speaking of Queen Zagan-

Zagan

Zagan is known to transform liquids, turning water into wine, blood into wine, oil into water (which can then be turned into wine). She just makes a ton of wine. But I wanted to mainly focus on the blood to wine part, since I realized I could go with a vampiric aesthetic when designing her.

For this reason, I also chose to make her an oxpecker, which is a (sometimes) parasitic bird known for pecking at wounds on large mammals and drinking their blood.

I decided to pair her up with Vine because they’re both creators. Vine’s creations may be more grandiose, with being literal buildings and all, but Zagan’s creations are probably still useful. I mean, she can also create coins.

Oh, and now that I’ve shown both of them, this is what Belial and Zagan’s crowns would look like now, with the whole halo crown thing

Beleth

Beleth was very tricky for me to design at first. Beleth is described as appearing intimidating and fierce when summoned, in order to test the courage of the conjuror. So I wanted to make her intimidating, but was struggling to figure out how exactly I wanted to do that.

Thankfully, my good good friend @braveboiart helped with ideas, and suggested the armor and shadowy cape.

I also made her a shoebill stork, cuz when I think of a bird a lot of people find intimidating, I think of the shoebill.

Purson

And then last but not least, Beleth’s husband, Purson. I decided to pair them up because I wanted to depict them both with armor. They’re a warrior duo.

I made Purson a harpy eagle mainly cuz I thought it’d be cool, but also cuz they’re one of the heaviest birds of prey, and I read somewhere that during the battle it took a swarm of angels to take him down. Idk how canon this is to actual bible lore, but I like it so I’m stealing it /lh

I imagine Beleth and Purson manage some sort of military, and probably train the knights in the Ars Goetia ranking. Idk, I’m still figuring lore out.

Anyways, that’s all I have to show off today. I’m working on redesigning Stolas, Stella, and Octavia, so look out for that I guess.

[the-universal-sun]

Little Lee coping with being overstimulated from Halloween/trick or treat, please and thank you!!

(Sorry this is a bit late! I’ve been really busy these last couple of days! I think I’m going to make this one an attempt at a fic Drabble instead of head canon bullet points. I’m not sure this is 100% what you’re asking for, but please let me know!)

It was so loud. Everything-everybody-was so loud. And bright. Bright and Loud was all Stan could process. The people talking to him, the itchy feeling of the warm under shirt Sixer made him wear under his werewolf costume. It was all too much. He wanted the noise to stop, for people to stop talking at him and down to him and expecting an answer. An answer he can’t give because he can’t speak, not like this, not when he’s small and his tongue feels like it can’t move in his mouth. He can feel his breathing pick up, he starts rocking on his feet to calm himself but it’s not working right now.

He looks at his big brother, hoping Sixer can pick up on his need to leave and for everything to stop, but he’s talking to someone about something he can’t bring himself to hear. He doesn’t want to bother his brother, he doesn’t want to make him mad. He never gets mad at him, but he doesn’t want to push him, not right now and not right here. He can feel the tears prick at his eyes, his lip wobbling. But he can’t cry, not now! Not here! Not in front of all these strangers who’ll know and who’ll make fun of him and ruin this good thing he has! He likes feeling little. He has to leave now, to get away. He lets go of Ford’s hand and darts off, his muscle memory moving him around the bodies surrounding him and bringing him to a quiet area of trees, the houses around it are dark, so there’s no one here to trick-r-treat, to see him and talk to him and make more noise around him.

Stan lets himself collapse against the tree, hands blocking his ears, rocking back and forth, his breath hitching and heaving and sobs wracked his body, tears fogging up his glasses and getting the taste of salt in his mouth. He cries silently, a lesson he learned a long time ago, and waits for his big brother to find him. He needs his brother to take him home and comfort him, but he ran off and what if Ford’s mad? He broke two rules! He left Ford and he didn’t tell him that he felt too much at once! But he can deal with him mad because he’s all alone now and he’s scared and alone and wants to go home now! But he can’t go home because Ford isn’t here, and he’s not supposed to go anywhere without him when he’s little, but he did! He broke the rules!

Stan’s sobs get heavier, quiet wails leaving his throat as his thoughts start spiraling and spiraling. His breathing picking up to a pant as he starts clutching and pulling at his hair.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“It’s so nice that you’re still trick-r-treating with your brother at your age! I can barely get my kids to eat dinner with each other, and they’re not even teenagers yet-“ Ford smiles through the mindless babble of the woman in front of him. He stopped paying attention a long time ago, but experience lends him the knowledge that walking off as someone’s speaking to you tends to sour their feelings towards you, and he can’t have that while he’s with Lee. The people of Gravity Falls love him, and they don’t question them on the rare occasion that he takes Stan out around town when he’s regressed, like now. They just assume they’re doing some brotherly bonding or that Stan’s like that sometimes because of the deal with Bill or the memory gun. He doesn’t care to expound upon their theories, he doesn’t want them to know the real reason. Sure the kids, Soos, and Melody were fine with Stan’s regressing, but they’re family, he doesn’t know nor trust the rabble of Gravity Falls, all that matters is that they like Stan and he’s going to ensure they keep liking him. So he has to behave.

He takes a glance over to his brother and furrows his brow, Lee looks overwhelmed. He can feel his hand clutching his own even more, and his eyes have this far off look, one he gets when he’s overstimulated and is trying to hide it. He turns away from the woman to check on Lee more thoroughly when he rips his hand away and runs down the street.

“Stanley! Stop, what are you doing!” Ford yells as he immediately drops into a sprint after Stan, briefly losing him in the crowd of people huddled on the sidewalks. He needs to find Stan and do it quickly, he doesn’t want him to have an attack out here, all alone and vulnerable. He must’ve been so scared and overwhelmed to have run away from him like that. Why didn’t he notice the signs sooner? Why didn’t Stan give him a sign and let him know? He would’ve left in a heartbeat!

“Stanley, Buddy! Come on out, it’s Sixer, you’re safe with me!” Ford calls out as he gets to a less populated area of the neighborhood, hoping the nicknames will draw him out. He can feel himself starting to panic now, he scared for Stan. He doesn’t care if people find out about his brother's regression, but he knows Stan cares too much about it. Plus, he could be hurt, or could really be lost, or that blasted Trickster could get to him! He needs to find Stan soon.

Ford stops for a moment to catch his breath, hunching over his knees and trying to collect his thoughts. He needs to be logical and rational about this. His thoughts pause, however, when he hears a faint sound. He quiets his own panting and stopping, trying his best to hear the sound again. And he does, it sounds…it sounds…it sounds like Stan! It sounds like Stan when he gets so upset, he can’t silence himself, the muffled moaning wails that come out of his throat always breaks his heart to hear, and it still breaks his heart now, but at least he can find Stan with the sounds! He darts to his right, where he heard the wailing, and sees a cluster of tree near the darkest part of the street, the houses are all empty with their lights out, giving the tree cluster darkness and privacy away from snooping eyes.

Ford slowly approaches the trees, hearing the wailing get louder and louder the closer her gets. He spots Stan on the ground, furiously rocking back and forth, a self soothing habit he’s had since they were in elementary school. He slowly approaches him, not wanting to spook him and make him run off again.

“Hey, Lee? It’s alright, it’s just me, it’s Sixer. I’m here and everything’s going to be fine. Shhhhh, it’s okay, we are going to go home, get cleaned up, and I think an early bedtime is in order. Does that sound alright?” Ford likes the phrase every “command” he gives as a suggestion, something he learned early on in caring for Stan. Commands remind him too much of their father and of his decade of the streets, where he had no control over his life. Making anything that could come across as a demand a suggestion gives Stan the freedom to choose, to not remember those bad times.

If Stan heard him, he doesn’t give any indication. Rocking back and forth and whimpering, his hands almost tearing at his hair. Ford slowly gets down onto his knees beside Stan, reaching out with his hand and trying to set it on his brother’s shoulder. Stan whimpers and flinches away, an act that breaks Ford’s heart. He stops his hand from moving further, “shh-ing” Stan and talking in a soft and low voice, trying to calm him down.

“Lee, are you okay? Are you hurt? Or was everything just a bit too much, hmm? It’s okay, Bubs, you can tell me.” Ford questions slowly, trying to get Stan to focus on his voice rather than his thoughts. He figured Stan got overstimulated, but it wouldn’t hurt to check and make sure he wasn’t physically injured.

“…m’ so..ee” was the faint response he got from his brother. Stan was sorry? For what!? Stan had nothing to be sorry about, nothing at all!

“For what? I can’t think of a single reason for you to apologize, my Little Lee.” Ford reaches his hand out again, and Stan lets him rest it on the back of his head, hand sliding down to smooth his hair down and clutch his head.

“…I w-ran away…n’ I did’n say I was feew-feeling b-bad…” Stan’s panting as calmed down, but he’s still crying and hiccuping with each word. There’s a couple reasons his brother doesn’t speak very much when he’s little. He’s said he find it hard to move his tongue, he doesn’t feel the need to speak that often, and that when he does speak, he will flub his words, which Stan thinks makes him sounds too much like a baby. Ford disagrees of course, he thinks Stan sounds adorable when he speaks like that, but he understands the lack of need/want to speak at times, and he’d never force him. But he will revel in everytime he does speak. Except this time, of course, when his little brother is so panicked and overwhelmed he has to formulate words around a heavy tongue and heavier vocal cords.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Oh, Lee. I’m not mad that you ran away, or that you didn’t tell me you were feeling unwell. In fact, I’m sorry.”

Stan looked over at Ford at those words, why was he sorry? He didn’t break the rules, Stan did. Stan should be getting punished. His breathing slowed down with his thoughts, and his brother must’ve known what they were from his face.

“I’m your caregiver, Stanley. I’m supposed to look after you, to make sure you’re doing okay, especially in times like this, where you can easily get overstimulated. So yes, I’m sorry, Stanley, I’ve been remiss in my duties, my responsibility, to keep you safe. I’m so sorry.” Ford looked so sad, the look on his face made Stan’s chest ache even worse. Ford shouldn’t look like that! Ford shouldn’t be sorry! Stan should’ve let him know everything was becoming too much! It’s his fault, so why is his big brother sorry!? He doesn’t understand!

Stan leaned into Ford and vigorously shook his head, signaling his disapproval towards Ford’s apology and pointing at himself instead. Telling him that Stan should apologize.

“Oh, dear one, you can’t think this is your fault? Oh please don’t give me that look, I know you have trouble using your words, and I should’ve predicted that you’d get overwhelmed and kept a better eye on yo-!” Stan interrupts Ford by clapping his hands over his mouth and shaking his head again. Trying to Will himself to speak, but his tongue kept failing him, frustrated tears gathering in his eyes instead of scared ones.

Ford wraps his arms around Stan and pulls him into his lap, settling himself further on the ground, and rocking his back and forth as he gently pats his back. He slowly reaches up with one hand and wraps it around Stan’s wrist, removing his hand from his mouth so that he may speak.

“How about this, we both could have done better, and we’re both sorry, and we will work on our communication together so that we can avoid a situation like this again, is that good?” Stanley could continue to argue that he was wrong, but his Sixer’s rocking was better than his own, and now that he’s calmed down some, he’s feeling really sleepy.

He nods slowly as he reaches up and rubs at his eyes, feeling his brother laugh underneath him. He settles further on Ford’s lap, nuzzling his head into the crook on his brothers neck, letting out a deep sigh. Mind slowly drifting off with his brothers gentle rocking and soothing pats in his back. His mind barely picking up words as he drift further into sleep, arms clenched around Ford’s neck.

“I’ll take that as an agreement, my sleepy Little Lee. It’s alright, I can carry you to the car, you can go to sleep. Shhhhh-sh-sh-shhhh.” Stan starts to snore just a little, his eyes feeling too heavy to open, his head weighed down too much to nod. Instead, he puts two fingers down to form his favorite sign and gently taps his hand and Ford’s head in a well practiced rhythm of “tap…tap…tap…”

“And I love you too, my precious little brother.” Was Ford’s answer, Stan too deep into the throes and sleep to acknowledge it, but a small smile forming in his face anyways.

[bluemirrorangel]

Can you please make some Dallypop headcanons? (Dallas Winston x Sodapop Curtis)

sorry this is so lateeee, I had exam retakes all week.

I hope these are ok :)

General:

Soda is the type to flirt with his friends. He’s used to them rolling their eyes or jokingly going along with it, so when he meets Dally and he joins the gang, naturally, Soda flirts with him. He is honest to God gobsmacked when Dally flirts seriously back.

Dally calls Soda pretty boy.

Dally had Soda’s attention ever since they met, he just found him so interesting.

Soda was the first in the gang to meet Dally, they met at a rodeo.

Soda always had a thing for Dally but managed to convince himself it would never work out because Dally was too avoidant and uncaring. This changed COMPLETELY when he saw how good Dally was with Johnny.

Both of them find each other's accents attractive but are too embarrassed to say it.

Soda was a little intimidated by Dally and his reputation.

Soda is a LOT more open-minded about  Pony and Curly’s relationship because he’s dating Dally and he doesn’t want Ponyboy to think he’s a hypocrite.

Dallas used to be in a gang back in New York.

The closest Soda’s ever come to New York gangs is when he took Pony to the movies to watch West Side Story.

Their first kiss was after a rumble, Dally had a bloody nose and almost got arrested they were running from the cops, and they’d ducked into an alley to catch their breath Soda was laughing, he’d moved closer to Dally so he could check if his nose was broken. And no one had ever really cared about Dally like that, he was all hopped up on adrenaline and endorphins and how Soda looked in the lamp-light and he kissed him.

Their relationship isn’t technically a secret but they don’t talk about it.

Share clothes like crazy; jackets, shirts you name it they’ve shared it.

Soda thinks Dally’s hair is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, used to get distracted by how badly he wanted to touch it.

They aren’t super into pda but they’re CONSTANTLY roughhousing.

Before they got together Dally went to the DX purely to see Soda.

Soda makes fun of him for being named Dallas but being from New York. 

Soda thinks Dally is one of the most attractive people he knows, he just finds his appearance striking.     

Canon compliant 

Never actually got together.

Never hung out alone much because Soda didn’t want to cause trouble for Darry in case the social found out.

Made out a couple times.

Kind of a situationship-type deal.

Dally had Slyvia and Soda had Sandy, but there was always tension between them.

Dally still called him Pretty Boy, but it always had a bitter undertone to it. Soda could never bring himself to mind.

Soda HATED hearing about Slyvia cheating on Dally when he went to prison because he knew deep down he’d never do that, he’d wait for Dally forever.

Cradled Dally after he died, had to be dragged away full-on sobbing.

Dally’s death fucked with Soda more than he was truly aware of because he never truly had time to process it; he had to help Pony grieve Johnny and then there was the rumble and the court hearing and Sandy’s baby. By the time he had the chance to finally breathe and realise how much he missed Dally, he was leaving for Vietnam.

leave a ship or fandom suggestions and I’ll do head canons for them if you want :)

[trashbag-baby666]

ceo!john and assistant!gale au head canons!

Brought to you by me and @skyyguy (nsfw under the cut)

mota masterlist!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•John is the 31 year old heir to the Jack Daniel’s fortune and company. He’s unhappily married to a woman he isn’t sure he ever loved. They both have spent their entire marriage cheating on each other and avoiding the other.

•Gale is a ftm femme trans college student looking to get his foot in the door anywhere to make an adequate amount of money. He feels lost in his life like he’s wandering aimlessly waiting for something to happen.

•Gale and John initially meet at the Velvet Lounge, a high end gay bar. Gale bartends there and John was looking for a change of scenery. Find a new place, maybe a new guy or three to sleep with to fill his void.

•But the bartender seems to do just the trick for him.

•Gales in his stiff dark, royal purple tuxedo vest over his white, freshly pressed button down. Truthfully, he hated bartending but he made a decent salary here and good tips so he couldn’t really complain.

•He spent his evening mixing drinks and fetching beer for the wealthiest lgbt’s of the area. Or the ones just looking for a nicer night out then the place a couple blocks down.

•John had sat quietly as to not disturb Gales flow of work until he wanted another whiskey.

•The two get to chatting when it slows down for awhile.

•Next thing John knows he’s waiting in the single stall bathroom for Gale to finish his shift.

•To put it in terms, John nailed Gale into the bathroom wall.

•John, needs a new assistant so he tells Gale to send him his resumé if he wants a job that pays him more.

•So he hires Gale as his new personal assistant.

•The first three months they keep their relationship strictly professional…and because John, finally filed for divorce…

•John doesn’t want Gale to think he hired him just because he’s attractive. He could see from Gales Resumé that he was a smart boy. He excelled in all of his university classes and previous jobs.

•He waits until Gale makes the first initial step towards a sexual relationship again.

•It’s hot and steamy I’ll tell you that much.

•John starts knocking things off his desk, accidentally, so Gale has to bend over in his pencil skirt. John just sits back and enjoys his view, the tight skirt hugging his ass.

•Gale puts on as much as a show as possible when he does it too.

•Their main hookup spot is in the top floor’s storage closet. They’re not even the only people who use it…

•When John gets braver, he pushes his hand up Gales skirt in the middle of meetings and begin to play with him.

•John calls in Gale during some meetings to get him all flustered infront of his colleagues.

•Gales favorite, is when John breaks out the remote control vibrator in the lace panties…

•John makes Gale bring him and the others in the conference room coffee. Everytime he leans over to give someone their coffee, John activates it. Gale has to do everything in his power to bite down on his tongue and keep himself composed. He’s trying so hard for his knees to not give out on him as John turned on a high pulsating setting.

•Gales absolutely nearly soaked through, he’s worried it’s going to show through his skirt. John sends him out and messages him to meet in the closet after the meeting.

•I’m sure we all know how that went.

•Gale’s T dick, enlarged and throbbing inside John’s lips. The man putting on a show of stringing him out, although he’s already came twice.

•They lay there after for almost a full hour before getting up. Gale’s exhausted and can barely keep his eyes open let alone even thinking about walking around after that.

-

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More to come soon :3 <33

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Taglist: @austeenbootler @coastiewife465 @executethyself35 @slowsweetlove

[kibblbread]

Fuckity Fuck. This’ll be a long one girlies!

AK!Jason & Pizza gorl have an unconventional romantic relationship! I headcanon JT as disabled since he realistically should be. He’s canonically able bodied & can most definitely still kick some serious ass, but mentally, he’s absolutely spent. Suspension of disbelief for the sake of this being based on a literal video-game BUT also I want to world build in my little delulu arkham verse!

As always credit to my favorite fic writer @morverenmaybewrites because she made the pizza gorl fic 🤭🍕

Please read! If you have read it, reread it!

SLEEPING 😴💤

In my world these two basically obsessed with each other but PG is extremely accommodating to JT’s mental & physical traumas. She strongly encourages him to do what’s comfortable for him in their home, as she wants it to be a safe space for them both. Jason does his very best to accommodate PG as well as he possibly can to return the favor.

J prefers to sleep alone most nights.

He sleeps on the pullout couch a lot of the time don’t worry he’s not cramped because of his nightmares and general anxiety/paranoia. Despite it though, he still desires the presence of you constantly, it brings him an immense amount of comfort. The doors in the apartment normally stay open. Even during showers. He can hear you sketching, typing, reading, or even occasionally snoring depending on how quiet the night is. It’s the perfect white noise in his opinion! The gentle presence of a loved one goes a long way for JT, he doesn’t feel alone nor watched or out of place. It’s the epitome of a happy medium for him.

When you two are actually sleeping together, it’s usually really cold out. The bed is extra toasty with your XL heating pad and fluffy duvet. JT makes a habit of burying himself underneath the comforter and tucking himself into your embrace, he sleeps the heaviest on these nights. He rarely overheats. Typically these are dreamless nights for him. During the peak of Gothams harsh winter, Jason is the most consistent with sleeping in bed with the exception of a couple random nights he gets horrible night terrors. He just can’t get enough of the encompassing warmth 🤭 Not to mention it’s much harder for his mind to construct nightmares when all he’s thinking about is getting warm.

PG obviously prefers to sleep with her significant other most nights but makes it a point to respect his boundaries. As much as she wants Jason to be guilt free when sleeping alone, he still feels no better than a bag of shit when leaving her to her own devices nearly every night after all this time together; especially during holidays like valentines or something similar. To combat this they’ll usually do an activity together before sleeping—like reading aloud to one another or crocheting or even a coloring book.

COOKING/CLEANING 🫧🧽🧼

PG loves to eat but couldn’t be more indifferent to cooking, it’s not a hobby or particularly fun experience for her. She does it simply because Jason doesn’t like to mix things up when he cooks. Not because he doesn’t want to either, he’s just good at a handful of dishes and hasn’t ventured beyond them. They’re both average but PG is marginally better since she cooks more.

Jason’s skin looks considerably better due to him eating more homemade food. He’s not nearly as greasy now.

JT having someone hounding him to hydrate and eat on routine gives him more energy… he’s lowkey shocked at how much more energy he actually has. PG is indefinitely annoyed at his antics but continues to nag JT to keep up with himself. He usually returns the favor by doing most of the chores, he seems to get some enjoyment from cleaning. It’s so easy for him to focus while simultaneously not actually think about anything. Head completely empty… only the sound of himself scrubbing away at grime.

Pure peace.

Sometimes when Jason runs out of things to clean it will lead to him stressing out unnecessarily. Unfortunately, it’s the only activity that helps alleviate stress at a rapid rate. The second best self soothing method is counting down from 10 thousand in increments 7 or something akin to that. But it doesn’t work nearly as well though..

As helpful PG finds this behavior, they’re both brainstorming better measures for calming him down.

HYGIENE 🪥

Pizza can’t really go more than 24 without a shower, she hates smelling like greasy fast food! She has a lot of scented products that help get rid of the stench pretty effectively. Jason only uses them when he needs to erase the scent of blood, otherwise he opts for the simple cleansers and shampoos.

PG loves to feel just as pretty as she smells so her hoard of hygienic products is never lacking. Jason is still genuinely curious how any girl could need so many oils, body butters, & moisturizers. It’s never ending. JT never comments or judges his significant other on her affinity for skincare. Something that makes PG so clearly happy makes him happier too. Not to mention, Jason also reaps some small benefits from her extensive collection; although he usually just uses what Pizza seems to ignore the most, some of his smaller scars have evened out and much of his hyperpigmentation has lessened. Jason himself hasn’t noticed this development in the slightest, but PG most definitely has.

He’s very bashful when you compliment him and most of the time, Jason doesn’t believe you.. sometimes though, he can’t help but let his heart flutter at the directness of your attraction.

Every once in awhile, Jason will roll up his sleeves and ask you rub cream on his forearms. As tense and anxious JT will become while being touched, he wants to heal. He wants Joker to stop haunting him. Freedom is all Jason has ever wanted since the asylum. Becoming whole again is his ultimate goal; so he’ll sit through the discomfort, the self hatred and disgust of his mangled body, to exist as he sees fit. Not by what Joker had planned for him. PG doesn’t always do it as long as he’d like if she feels he’s on the verge of panic or an episode, but occasionally, Jason can beat personal records.

JT gets loads of praise from his partner either way.

Anything to do with prolonged touch is done in complete darkness 🙃 what kind of touch is up to y’alls discretion lol

[lightlycareless]

Imagine: naoya and y/n have been happily married for years, and y/n has Lesley Gore's "You don't own me" as ringtone because it makes naoya so embarrassed, he would be like "love, I have already apologized 🥺"

PS: love your work, you alone are making justice to naoya's character. Your characterization of him is canon in my mind.

Hello!!!

Awww this is 🥺 man I feel so bad for him haha. But it's true, once everything is healed and nice, this man will still feel that he could never make up for his mistakes 😭 you'd be there to reassure him, though :) ❤️

Anyways, I've decided to apply some creative... differences to this. Mainly because I wanted to get really angsty with it mwahahahahahahah (also, it's not noted here, but there are some things that will remind her of those days, so she will avoid anything that might make her remember that. The two are in love, but... it's a difficult path. but trauma always is.)

Also, thank you so much for your lovely words!! I do try my best :') I'm so glad that you liked my characterization!! This man is capable of more... under the right circumstances 🤭

warnings: a bit of angst. naoya is deeply regretful. you're supportive. mentions of abuse (not really, but something bad is implied)

happy reading!

“—this is why I don’t like going out with you. Nothing ever seems to be of your liking!”

“If you have such a bad time with me, then why don’t you leave?!”

“I might as well!”

Naoya was never one to overhear gossip (coming from strangers, that is.). Thought it to be incredibly boring, dull, mundane, especially from civilians. What could they even experience? Their boring 9-5 job? Yeah, no thanks.

Yet, something about this conversation didn’t elude his attention like it used to, and before he knew it, when he was once focused on your voice, he was now nothing but attentive to the hurtful words of the couple nearby.

They weren’t directed at him, obviously, nor did they refer to anything he could take personally…

But the weight of his past makes it impossible for him to look beyond his own guilt, instinctively attaching their words to his own actions. Like he was the one they were discussing.

Naoya knows he was a… less than desirable man at the beginning of this marriage. He doesn’t claim otherwise, he can’t, since there are still many things to make amends for…

Things that he knows he’ll never be able to; for the atrocities he committed to you… they’re unspeakable. Even with the promise he made to spend of the rest of his life making it up to you, one he doesn’t intend to let go.

But… will he ever amount to it? Can he do so?

…

He’d rather die trying, than never at all.

“Another one?” You ask when he suggests going to another store. The two had come on a date at a shopping mall, intending to pick up some things needed for the apartment, alongside enjoying each other’s company; Naoya’s work had been quite demanding as of lately, and he intended to get his dosage of you, enough to cover a whole month. “But I thought you wanted to head back already…?”

“Yes, but then I thought we’d make the best of our visit here before leaving instead. Who knows when we’ll be back?”

“Oh, well… if that’s what you want…” you frown, a bit unsettled by his sudden change, which was only to worsen.

“No! I mean—we can do that too if you want to.” Naoya interjects.

“You’re not making much sense…”

“What I mean to say is that we can do whatever you want.” He scurries to explain. “Just say the word and I’ll do it.”

“I... don’t have anything in mind, really. Going home sounded good.”

“Are you sure? We can go somewhere else too. You know I have no limitations.”

“I think I’m done for the day—”

“Home it is. Would you like the estate, the apartment, or your parents’ house?”

“My parents house?? But that’s—that’s on the other side of the country!” you gasp; and while you’re always appreciative of Naoya’s willingness to go above and beyond, this was actually a bit… excessive—and that’s saying a lot coming from him!

“And?”

“What do you mean and? We can’t just hop on a plane and leave!”

“Of course we can.” He corrected. “We can leave right now if you want.”

“Again with the—Where did this come from?? Is everything alright, Naoya? What’s gotten into you??”

“Nothing! Is it wrong to want to please you, too?” Naoya frets.

“Too?” you repeat. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s—It’s nothing. Just tell me what you—”

“No, it is important. It has to be if it’s affecting you like this!” you cry. “Tell me, Naoya. Please. I thought we agreed we could tell each other everything!”

“It’s nothing you don’t know already.”

“Like what?” you frown. “What do I already know?? You’re not making any sense!”

“That I don’t deserve you!” he condemns. “That I’ve done terrible things to you that I can never erase, no matter how much I try—and that perhaps you’d be infinitely happier with someone else; someone… that isn’t me.”

Even with the large, noisy sounds of the lively mall, silence manages to quickly engulf the two soon after, drowning you in the pain Naoya’s unexpected words gave you, piercing your heart and the hope you’ve placed for the future of this relationship.

One created with the notion that everything bad had been left in the past, ready to move on… only to realize, it wasn’t that easy to do so. Suddenly coming back, in the most unwanted, painful way you could’ve imagined—seemingly unprompted, but equally damaging to Naoya’s sentiments.

“That’s… that’s not true.” You eventually murmur, looking at him, while Naoya’s eyes remain glued to the floor. “None of what you’re saying is true.”

Then why do I keep feeling this way?

“… you don’t… believe that… do you?” You continue, managing to get a glimpse of his face, which reflected nothing but sadness and disbelief towards your words.

“It seems like all I do is hurt you.” Naoya laments. “No matter how much I try, I’ll never be able to escape—"

“Don’t say that—that’s not who you are.” You interject, stepping closer to him. “We’ve come a long way from where we began, you’re not that same man from before.”

“But I keep making the same mistakes, I keep hurting you.”

“It’s not easy to leave behind what you thought normal for all your life—or to accept them as mistakes…” you take his hand. “So, when you do fall back into your old ways, but bounce back right up… It shows you’re trying. It shows you’re regretful and want to do better.”

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“I know.” He lifts your gaze to yours; you place your other hand just above his cheek, giving him a soft smile. “And… I know you don’t do it intentionally. I’ve seen your heart, the pain you went through and how it affected you. But I also saw what you’re capable of, the love you’ve harbored, how you longed to share it, and… how lucky I am to be the one to earn it.”

“…I’m the lucky one.” Naoya leans into your touch. “To have found a wife so compassionate…”

“We’ve both done things we’re… not proud of. But that doesn’t mean we’re eternally bound to them. As long as we’re regretful and strive to do better… it’s all that matters.”

“But when is enough?” Naoya murmurs. “When will I stop feeling like this?”

“I don’t know. There are some things we can’t stop, we simply… learn how to live with them.” You admit. “I wish it was possible.”

He frowns, looking away.

“But I do know one thing, though.”

“…What is it?”

“That I love you. With your faults and virtues—and everything in between. Is what makes you, you, Naoya.” You giggle, he gives you a tight smile. “And I’ll spend my whole life telling you that until you believe it yourself!”

He chuckles; seems that both have made lifelong promises that neither intends to forget anytime soon.

“I love you too.” Naoya professed. “Thank you for everything. You’ve given me so much, probably even more than what I deserved—that I’ll spend my whole life making it up to you.”

“You don’t have to, Naoya. You only deserve more.” You reassure him. “But really, you don’t need to make it up to me! As long as you remember the love we have for each other, and that I’ve long forgiven you, is enough for me.”

At your words, the tears Naoya was trying his best to hold back finally slide down his cheeks, which you quickly wipe away with your thumbs, before giving him a smile and pulling him closer for a peck on the lips.

“Everything is going to be fine.” You promised, he looks back at you. You kiss him again, taking him into your arms and hugging him. “If you don’t mind me asking, however… what happened that made you feel this way? Did I do something?”

Naoya sighs, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“No, never. It was just something stupid, actually. Some people arguing, that’s all.”

“Oh.” You blink, quickly understanding why he’d feel insecure about your relationship; the familiarities were too close for comfort. “That’s… unfortunate.”

“It reminded me of how we used to be… how I’d treat you.”

“That is long gone. We’ve worked past that and now, we’re in a much better place.” You snuggle against him. “Both figuratively and literally.”

“Do you still want to go home?”

“Yeah, all this shopping made me tired. Unless there’s something else you wanted to see?”

“No, I was mostly suggesting things for you. I’ve been feeling tired for a while too, now.”

“We can arrange something else for another day, then. For now, I just want to head back home, lay on the futon, cuddle underneath the covers, and maybe watch a movie… how does that sound?” you grin. “I can even prepare some popcorn, if you’d like!”

He chuckles.

“It sounds wonderful.”

Just like his new life with you. Something he never thought he’d receive, nor deserved, at least in the beginning of his marriage.

Until you proved to him otherwise, showing him that the ways of his clan, those forcefully imposed on him, didn’t determine who he was, who he could become.

That he had much more power over his life, the ultimate decision on what to do remained on him and no one else.

It was to be a difficult path, one promising bumpy roads, which will probably never end if he were to be realistic…

But it’s just as you said. As long as both know, deep inside, that they’re doing their best to overcome these obstacles, as well as remembering that they’re always there for the other, alongside their ever-growing love… nothing else mattered.

It was you and Naoya against the world.

And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

🥺 I believe Naoya will always feel undeserving, even when they have a kid together and whatnot. He comes from a very difficult family, so be prepared to face these kinds of situations when in a relationship with him 😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️

omg i can imagine it already, when he's super old, reflecting on his life he had alongside you, his kids, and probably grandchildren too... only then will he finally admit he's happy with the life he had. jfc i'm crying goodbye.

Anyways, I know I deviated a bit from your imagine, but I still hope it was to your liking! the angst between the two is real, but so good too....

As always, thank you so much for sending in this! Take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[pm0]

@hajimedics revealing my #anonymous self to show how ur post inspired me 🫡

ok I guess I will explain what the symbolism in this drawing means under this cut now :)

BASICALLY Rave’s tags on his art got me thinking about mutual sentience theory & the idea that who these puppets actually are does not align with what playfellow workshop created them to be — specifically, the actual desires of the puppets in whps are not the same as what playfellow thinks they should desire — and it made me think about how it might apply to Frank & Julie.

We know that neither of them fall into (strictly) binary gender labels, we know that Frank is gay, we know that Julie was confirmed sapphic in a stream — and yet we see playfellow putting them into the roles of cisgender heterosexual man & woman respectively, that they cast them to be in the roles of each others romantic love interests (see julie-rella animation cels). So I wanted to draw something based on that concept, the contrast of who they are vs who they’re “supposed” to be.

This is why I included 2 Franks and 2 Julies here, one set in my usual style for drawing them and the other being more ‘on-model’ — the former are a representation of who the puppets actually are, with their agency, while the latter are who playfellow themselves outline the puppets to be. The playfellow puppets are a ‘perfect’ version of sorts, their canonical accuracy + their sparkling appearance being extensions of how true to the script they are.

The framing of these two sets, how they interact with each other within the image, is meant to show the situational helplessness Julie and Frank share. They are stuck together in a ring of lavender flowers (do you get it. wedding rings. lavender marriage. I’m a master of artistic metaphor /j), looking to one another in worry as they’re surrounded by playfellow’s expectations. Neither of them want this, for themselves nor for each other, but what are they meant to do? They aren’t trapped by something they can just escape from, they’re trapped by their own identities; the will of their creators and the will of themselves are intrinsically linked, each at their core are answers to the question of who “Julie Joyful” and “Frank Frankly” are, to try and sever that connection is an impossible task.

The circles above each of the on-model puppets’ heads are primarily meant to be halos bc well. you know how queer religious trauma goes (there’s a ‘playfellow workshop is a stand-in for american christianity and possibly god’ metaphor in there somewhere) BUT they are also supposed to represent wedding rings too, to show yet again how playfellow likely wants them to be a couple — and not in the “a couple of bestiesss(๑>◡0)~☆” way they’d like to be

I think that’s all????? not really much else I can say here. background is black + slightly red for that whrp undersite feel and the on-model puppets are drawn in white to contrast with the primarily black background but also because they’re technically Julie & Frank’s straightsonas & black+white=straight pride flag. ok bye