#though that was more just a way to withdraw before he killed himself but anyways

[haunt4haunt]

some of you do not view daredevil as a fundamental aspect of matt’s identity and i will never understand it

[scekrex]

I know there's a fandom thing going around that Adam doesn't like eating women out but.... bro I need to see trans! male! reader sitting on Adams face and getting eaten out... like..

I mean reader doesn't count cause he's a guy?? right?? it's not the same guys.. (I mean this in like Adams POV)

I also think it'd be silly if Adam WAS inexperienced in that.. category. Like, bro I want to humiliate him SO BAD!! I love his big ass ego but that makes me want to do it more.. So maybe the reader degrading him or talking Abt how inexperienced he is just to get on Adams nerves while he's eating him out?? I think it'd be silly.. Adam would fold if he was ever degraded or something by the reader, I mean he was constantly praised for being the first man, and was given a lot of special treatment so for the reader to make it CLEAR that he won't be the same way?? YES!! anyway I'm a little hungry for Adam guys sorry <3

Tbh I haven't heard of that headcanon yet but while I agree that Adam would not eat a woman out, he'd definitely suck dick and eat out trans dudes idc what everyone else says. To Adam it's just sometimes different to pleasure a dude with his mouth and I stand by that.

Suck it up, big boy

pairing: Adam x trans!male!reader

warnings: language, oral sex, no use of female privates though (it's briefly implied that reader has a biological female body though)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

He tried to play it cool, tried to kill the voices in his head that were trying to tell him to pull away and tell you no. He was aware he could stop this at any given point, that you would not give him shit for doing so but he wanted to prove a point. He had bragged a little too much about knowing all the right ways to make you cum, he had dug his own grave when you had brought up that he could simply eat you out then and he had confidently responded with a cocky, ‘Yeah, no fucking problem’.

So when you lowered your hips until you sat on his face and Adam’s mind went completely blank, he wanted to fucking die again - for good this time though. He wanted to melt into the mattress and never come back. Fuck, why did you have to bring up the one thing he had just done once before and back then he had not fucking enjoyed it at all. Maybe that had been due to his partner being quite insensitive about him being inexperienced - you were different in any way and he knew that. It was also an entire different deal to eat a dude out, right? That was not comparable to eating out a woman despite you and his former female partners sharing the same sexual organs. Eating you out would be different, you were not a woman, you were a dude after all, just like Adam himself. Slowly the heavy fog that had clouded his mind lifted and he opened his mouth to let his tongue lick over your front entrance, a quiet moan fell from your lips and that encouraged Adam to keep going.

You were not able to hide the grin that had curled around your lips in victory. You had known it from the start, Adam had not the slightest idea what he was doing down there and for the first time ever since the both of you had started dating, your roles were reversed. For the first time it was Adam who had to learn how to please you instead of the other way around and you had to admit that you liked the thought of it a lot. And despite having no experience, he was trying his best - not that you’d let it slide that easily though. “I fucking knew you were all talk,” you hummed as you grinded your hips down against his face, your body tried to swallow his tongue but it seemed that Adam had other plans since he kept withdrawing it. Either he had other plans or he had no idea what he was supposed to do with himself. You were quick to notice the flinch that went through his body at your comment - the first man was used to a lot of your shit by now, degradation was not one of them. You felt how he wanted to pull back to argue and decided it was for the best to not let him, if he would need a serious break he’d let you know. “Don’t fucking talk about how good you are with your dirty mouth, Adam, show me instead,” you explained as you held his head in place by grabbing a fistful of his brown hair tightly, a needy moan rolled over Adam’s tongue and was sent right through your body.

The brunette’s tongue kept circling your entrance and you impatiently yanked on his hair as you growled, “Just fucking use your oh so magical tongue, dickmaster.” The nickname that usually sounded like a praise coming from your lips now sounded taunting and Adam was overwhelmed by the realization that he in fact liked it. His body reacted by bucking his hips up into thin air. Your free hand slapped his hip bone harshly before you pressed it against the mattress, “Behave, whore, you won’t cum until I taught you how to eat a man out properly.” And your words that sounded like a promise and a threat at the same time made his body shiver in excitement and another moan - this one was a little lower - fell from his lips.

With a shift of your hips your body was finally able to swallow Adam’s tongue and the choking noise that the brunette made at the sudden shift was music to your ears. “For your bragging about how good you are at this you’re pretty fucking weak, hun,” oh and you loved the way his body reacted to your mean sounding comments, the way his hips pressed up against the palm pinning it down, the way his hands - which were loosely holding your hips to keep them busy - would clench, nails digging into your skin to keep himself grounded. His golden eyes were open the entire time, scanning your body and its very move. “You’ve never done that before and it fucking shows,” you moaned as you kept grinding your hips against his face, trying to get is tongue to touch all the right areas, without him knowing where those are that turned out to be more tricky than you would have thought though. “Really thought I wouldn’t notice that you’re basically still a virgin when it comes to eating someone out, huh?” And that word - virgin - made Adam’s walls crumble, never in his entire life had someone called him that, let alone told him that he fucks like one. A high pitched whine left his throat and that sound you liked even more than the choking noise he had made earlier. “And someone like you dares to call himself dickmaster,” you huffed as the hand that had been busy with pinning his hips against the mattress teasingly ghosted over Adam’s erection, the brunette was quick to try and lean into your offering touch instantly. A muffled, “Fuck,” came from the man underneath you - well, at lest that was what Adam tried to say, the sound that actually left his lips sounded a little different. Not that either of you cared, no not really.

“Move your tongue to the right- no the other right, boo- oh fuck,” instructions he could definitely take and execute quite well despite the fact that he had been in a leading position his entire afterlife - he was the leader of the exorcists after all, not a really a position that would teach a person to execute orders well. Yet Adam did what you told him to do and earned himself a throaty moan of yours in return. “Look at the inexperienced bitch finally learning how to eat- oh dear God~” your degrading little comment was cut off by Adam thrusting his tongue all the way inside of you, licking down the inside of your walls and swallowing the liquid your body produced due to the lust flowing through your veins. Fuck, he surely had caught on quickly, huh? You felt the shiteating grin that you were sitting on and you did not like it - well, that was only partly true. You did like it that he seemed to grow more confident in his task, you did not like the control that took from you so the fist of yours that was still buried in his hair tightened in a warning manner. Adam’s hands grabbed a proper hold of your hips and slightly lifted them off his face to respond to your lust filled cry of Father’s name, “Not quite, but I’ll let it slide.” The fist in his hair tightened even more, then you yanked on the sweaty mess on his head firmly, drawing a beautiful sounding moan from your lover as you yanked his face closer to your privates again.

“Shut the fuck up and swallow, bitch,” you bit back a little harsher than you had intented to, but you knew Adam would not take that personally at all - if anything he would comment on it later how hot it was. His eyes locked onto yours as he continued to eat you out, the tongue of the first man was moving so skillfully by now, like it was his second nature, like he had been practicing this ever since he had been created. You knew better than anyone that wasn’t the case though. Moan after moan fell from your lips and the brunette underneath you drowned in the sounds you made for him, drowned in the thought of your body craving his just as much as his body was craving yours. Why was he so fucking good at this? He surely had no right to be, not when he was oh so inexperienced. You wanted to keep the dirty talk and therefore the degradation up but you had not enough air inside your lungs to do so, not when Adam kept drawing those beautiful sounds from you.

[resident-rats]

👀 If you’re still taking requests from the prompt list, does #24 strike anything creatively in you? Literally any pairing. And if not it’s totally cool. -residentthot

On it 🫡 (Sorry for such a delay, it’s for chreon btw)

Prompt: “I never knew you liked being spanked.”

Words: 1654

[18+ under the the cut]

Pulling into the driveway, Leon and Chris sat for a moment. Bags piled across the backseat, neither making the first move to enter their house.

“Feel like we’ve forgotten something.” Leon said, glancing behind at the groceries.

“Wouldn’t put it past us.” And with that, Chris unclipped his belt, opening the drivers side door. “C’mon, not going back for anything now.”

Together they managed. Lifting everything inside, items in various degrees of being put away. There was no specific order. They were mostly quiet, too tired to make meaningful conversation. Only thing Leon particularly wanted was dinner. And luckily, it wasn’t his turn to cook.

A list had been made beforehand. Though naturally it was forgotten. Remaining pinned to the refrigerator. It wasn’t like either had a bad memory, still leaving with more items than needed - that was just how grocery shopping went. But something still felt glaringly obvious.

For the first time since getting home, Leon looked at the list. Properly looked.

“Ah shit.” Of course.

“What?” Chris turning with a can of something in his hand.

“Know what we forgot,” Giving the man one of those looks. “The milk.” Because it always was the fucking milk wasn’t it?

He watched as Chris’ face dropped in realisation, reading the list for himself.

“Well, it was your job to remember the list. You can go get it tomorrow.” Said rather playfully, smiling as he looked to Leon.

“Hey, c’mon that’s not fair!”

“That’s not very professional now is it?”

“Okay but-”

Though the man had already grabbed a tea towel, twirling it before smacking it into Leon’s ass. It wasn’t necessarily the action which cut off the sentence, more so the noise which Leon made. Which came out perhaps a little too enthusiastic.

That was then followed by a silence which felt way too prominent.

“Never knew you liked being spanked.” Chris halfheartedly laughed to himself.

Leon would have said something witty in return, something to shut him up, if it weren’t for the blush darkening his cheeks.

“Oh my god, you do.” The sight capturing Chris’ attention, words said almost in disbelief, leaning against the island in total amusement.

“Shut up.” Leon all too aware of how warm his neck felt, how flushed he presumably looked.

“No, no, you’re not getting off that easy,” Putting the shopping away had been long forgotten. “We’ve been together how long now? And you’ve never told me you like to be spanked.”

The embarrassment only set in further.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Spoke with a soft hint of hurt as a massive hand came to cradle Leon’s jaw. A gesture of reassurance and a way to keep eye contact.

“Just never came up.” Half mumbled. Watching as Chris just smiled.

Suddenly there was breath against Leon’s ear, the man’s body close.

“Guess we should make up for lost time then?” Words flowing straight into Leon, like everything around them stopped. Cock showing more than a little interest.

That was what took them down that path anyway. The one which lead to Chris sat on their bed, with Leon stark naked sprawled over his lap.

Leon could already feel how he leaked against Chris and nothing had even happened, the anticipation killing him. Could practically feel the blood rushing through his veins.

The palm of Chris’ hand came to rest against Leon’s ass, soothing light circles into it. Muscles already twitching. Waiting.

“Want you to count for me, okay?”

Leon just nodded, eager and dumb. Too aware of how his cock lay trapped between them both.

“Good.” Fingers squeezing the tender flesh, before withdrawing his hand all together.

Allowing his eyes to fall closed, Leon awaited.

And like that there was a smack. A blunt force as he was struck straight across the ass, quick to be followed by the escape of a pleased sound.

It hurt, a sharp sting bleeding into his skin, but fuck it also felt good. Resulting in his cock drooling more. Unable to help whatever small whimpers were released.

Again, Chris’ hand ran over the area. Careful. Calming the nerves with his gentle touch.

“One.” Leon got out, with only a slight shake to his breath. The word appeasing Chris.

“That’s good,” Hand still exploring. “Should’ve told me this sooner baby.”

“S-sorry.”

“Shhh, don’t apologise. Sure you’ll make it up to me, yeah?”

And just like that, the hand was gone. Leon’s ass left raw and wanting.

Fuck, he desperately needed more. Trying to relax and control the unsteady breaths. Helplessly ignoring the throb between his thighs.

And there it was, the second strike. More forceful than the last. Or at least it felt that way. The area already sensitive after the first, Leon could feel the way heat rose under his skin.

A moan, a proper one, punching it’s way from Leon’s stomach. Brows furrowed as it happened. Another spike of endorphins. Jesus it really shouldn’t have felt so good, but it did, it really did. Brain already growing clouded. And it was only the second hit.

“Two.”

More blood flowing south. Body slackening over Chris’ legs as he allowed himself to sink into the feeling.

“So beautiful like this.” Lying there listening to how Chris spoke. “Not keeping anything else from me?”

It took a second for Leon’s reply.

“No, promise.” Voice heavy.

“Better not be lying now?”

“I- I promise. Really.”

“Alright, I’ll believe you.”

He knew it was coming, but he still missed the hand when it left. Loving how the fingers had kneaded him afterwards, how they sent small jolts of pleasure to his cock.

“Settle a bit, yeah?”

Apparently it wasn’t just Leon’s mind which had grown restless.

“That’s it, that’s a good boy. Control yourself.” The praise bringing comfort.

The weight of Leon’s excitement hung in the air. Trying to be as patient as possible. Ass up, a slight tremble in his legs.

“Really weren’t lying when you said you liked this were you?”

Leon opened his mouth to reply, but then it came. Chris’ palm coming down. It was more than tactical. The noise pulled from Leon was lewd, and loud. Very loud. Causing a love hate relationship with his cock. Loving the feeling, wanting more of it. But hating how the pain was just present enough to stifle his orgasm.

It hurt, the sharp sensation rocketing through the area. While simultaneously providing a stress relief of sorts. Knowing he could be vulnerable around the man and he’d be taken care of.

“Fuck.” Uselessly whined as he tried to bring himself back to the room.

“Doesn’t sound like a number to me.” Judging by Chris’ voice he was enjoying it. Leon’s pleasure more than evident.

“Three.”

“There we go.” Again rubbing his cheeks, though the hand was quick to drop. Squeezing the area below Leon’s ass. Engulfing it, fingers getting a firm hold. “Need to remember numbers now don’t we?” And he didn’t let go. Only applying more of that blunt pressure.

Leon couldn’t help the squirming. Not that he was uncomfortable, but doing everything not to cum then and there. Like every point of contact with the man was heightened.

“Chris - ah fuck - Chris I’m gonna- Chris please-” Not particularly caring how pathetic he came across.

At that Chris let go.

“Already?” Smiling through the word.

The cold air flooding the abandoned area.

“Chris please.”

“Not yet.” Fingers back to caressing the curve of his asscheek. “Two more, how about that? Sound fair?”

By then Leon was happy to take whatever he could get.

“Y-yeah, anything, please.”

Only two more. Leon could do that.

“Good.”

The impact of the fourth shifted Leon’s body a bit. Smacking clean into him. A hiss, as Leon tried to bite back whatever noise his throat urged him to make. Brain already soft and fuzzy. The pain and pleasure both intermingling. Cock aching, the dull yet deep kind of pulsing that was impossible to ignore.

“Fuck, you’re so good like this. Wish you could see yourself.”

Really Leon wouldn’t have been surprised if a handprint had been left behind. Basking in the relief of afterwards.

“Think you can touch yourself? Can you do that for me?” The question puncturing the haze.

Wordlessly, Leon reached beneath him, fingers curling around his own cock. Careful not to tug too hard, knowing it’d send him over.

“That’s good, just like that baby.”

To which Leon could only whimper in response.

“One more, okay?” Sounding so gentle. “Let’s see if you can cum for me okay? Think you can?”

Lazily Leon nodded, essentially almost there already.

“Good.” Chris’ free hand briefly tracing the edge of his face. But it was short lived. Again, Leon found himself waiting. Needing. Cock twitching. Almost there. All of it feeling so intimate. Allowing every thought to leave, left with only whatever sensation his body brought.

Chris’ palm struck again. Hard. The strong thwack was the only thing to be heard. And just like that, it happened. Body tensing in an involuntary manner. Not so much the pain, but more so the mental shift which sent him over. Cock sliding into his fist.

Afterwards Chris would have to wash his jeans. Cum soaking into them, as Leon lay there needy and unable to do anything. Each spurt somehow better than the last. Feeling wrung dry until the last few drops dribbled over weak fingers.

Throughout it Chris never stopped massaging the area. Hands not leaving once. Voice filled with nothing but praise and reassurance.

Eventually Leon relaxed, too exhausted to move.

“You did well.”

“Mhm.” Was all Leon hummed. Barely registering the words.

“Really well.”

Suddenly there was something cold. Though too out of it to turn around and look, but soon coming to the realisation it was Chris applying cream. Swirling it over the reddened skin.

“Still need you walking tomorrow.” Chris joked, as the action continued. “You gotta get milk.”

Like that was fucking happening.

For this ask game!!

[play-rough]

Hello there!

I’m not really sure how to start this, but I’ve been in a bit of a sad mood. A few days ago, some drunk scumbags cursed me out in the street because I’m a practicing Muslim. So, I’ve just been sad; so to cheer myself up I’ve been thinking about the baby Otter. And, if it’s okay, I wanted to share some of my thoughts.

So, this one is a little sad, but I hope this is okay.

I can imagine Dazai forcibly regressing while he’s in hiding, because he’s just so sad and going through withdrawal of his suppressants. He’s curled up into a ball on a cheap motel mattress, hugging his knees to avoid having more body parts than necessary touch the scratchy sheets. His nose is red, fresh tears paint his face, and there’s dried snot everywhere. He’s hugging a bunched up towel, and trying to pretend it’s Fishie giving him a hug.

He needs Chuuya so badly; but Dazai is bad. He left without saying Bye-bye, and that wasn’t kind. He knew Chibi hated when he just left without a word. He’s a bad baby.

He doesn’t deserve to be Chibi’s baby.

Without thinking, he subconsciously dials Chibi’s number off of his most recent burner phone. He just listens to the phone ringing, and starts to drift off; but, then he hears it.

“Hello,” the sound of his Chibi’s voice wakes him from his trance. He rises up, and shouts out a greeting.

“This is Nakahara Chuuya, I’m unable to take your call, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” With that, Dazai breaks down into sobs. Chibi always answered his calls, but Dazai should’ve known better. He’s not Chibi’s baby anymore. He left, and Chuuya hates him.

He sobs out apology after apology, begging Chuuya to understand why he left, and to please forgive him. Eventually, he reaches a limit to how long of a message he can leave, and Dazai drifts off into a painful slumber. When he wakes up, he doesn’t remember much of the night before. He bleaches the motel room, leaves through a window, and chucks his burner phone into a random trash can.

Unbeknownst to him, as he sits on the subway taking him away from Kobe. A very hungover Chuuya wakes up, who stayed out way to late drinking with a new recruit named Tachihara. As he slowly wakes up, and absently drinks a coffee, he checks his phone. Nothing really stands out, except for a voicemail from an unknown number. Chuuya usually just deletes those without listening, but he felt a tug to listen to it anyway.

“Ch-ib-i, it’s me,” even though it had been a year, and the voice is sob filled, Chuuya would always recognize his Baby’s voice.

Chuuya’s heart shatters as he listens to Dazai self deprecate, as he says sorry for not saying Bye-bye to Chibi and Fishie. Calling himself a bad baby, but he was trying to be good. Saying he promised Oda he would be good, and that’s why he had to leave. He sobbed and sobbed, and said how much he missed Chuu and Fishie.

Dazai’s voice his cut off as the voicemail limit has been reached. Chuuya immediately tries calling Dazai back, but the lines been disconnected. Anger fills him, as he chucks his coffee against the wall using tainted. Arahabaki is screaming in his head, that Chuuya must kill those who made their Baby cry.

Chuuya had failed. His Baby had needed him, and Chuuya didn’t pick up the call. He had spent a year thinking that Dazai didn’t want him anymore, and he felt like such an idiot for believing that. Well, no more. Chuuya was going to find his Baby no matter what. He wouldn’t fail again.

Um, I didn’t mean to basically write a whole one shot, and I’m sorry if I’m being a bother. You’re series just brings me so much joy.

I hope you’re having a wonderful day,

-Rosie 🌹

Rosie I am so sorry that happened to you 🩷 thank you so much for sharing this, it was delightful and deliciously angsty 🥺 i hope your day gets better, you’re beautiful and kind and important and people care about you 🩷🩷 fuck those drunk losers

Again this is so beautiful and I really appreciate you sending it my way 🩷

[hidingbehindmishacollins]

i know we’re all going through ao3 withdrawals so here is the slightly unedited version of my newest fic “all i need is on the other side of the door” from the depths of my google docs. it’s got all the fixings’ (and by that i mean fluffy destiel where freckles are angel kisses and bonus dean and charlie being besties content)

find me over on ao3 at sleep_deprived when the site returns from war <3

all i need is on the other side of the door

It was just a milk run.

That’s how it started, anyway.

A quick hunt a few hours out of Lebanon. Kill some vamps, save some kids. Dean could do it in his sleep. The nest had been easy enough to track down. Nestled in an abandoned neighborhood on the edge of town, the old house perfectly fit the bill. As a result of Sam’s insistence that Dean was the best out of all of them with kids, Dean is on his own searching for hostages while Sam is off somewhere else in the house looking for the vamps. Cas went with Sam for backup in case there were more vamps than anticipated. Not to say that Sam was incapable, because every creature alive AND dead knew he was. It was just nice to know your friend with the ability to smite anything in the blink of an eye had your back. Although Dean misses having the angel at his flank, he’s glad Cas has gone with Sam for that specific reason.

Dean cringes and curses under his breath as a floorboard creaks, exposing his presence. He quickly scans the room and locks eyes with a little girl peeking out from behind the door to the basement. The kid’s eyes go wide and before she can make a run for it, Dean throws his hands up and lets the machete he has been clutching in his right hand fall to the ground. So much for the element of surprise.

“I’m here to help, kid. Are you by yourself?” he asks, trying to make his voice as gentle as possible. The girl continues to stare at him for a few seconds before slowly shaking her head and glancing back down the stairs behind her.

“Are the others down there?” he tries again, but instead of being met with an answer, the girl turns and hurries back down into the darkness. Dean sighs and pulls his phone out to text Sam as he follows her to the basement.

I think I found the kids. Meet you out front when you’re done

The stairwell is narrow and smells of old blood and death, which only makes Dean move faster. How long have these kids been trapped down here? How many have already died? He isn’t sure he wants the answer.

Once Dean finally reaches the bottom of the stairs, he tries to assess his surroundings in what little light is being provided by his flashlight. The room, however, appears to be empty, and suddenly Dean has a very bad feeling that he has just fallen into some kind of trap.

“Kid?” he calls out. His hand flies to his hip on instinct when he is met with more silence. Even though he had replaced his gun with a syringe of dead man’s blood last night, he still feels unsteady. The buzz of a phone call in his back pocket startles him and he immediately pulls it out with the hope of Sam delivering good news.

“Sammy?”

“Did you find the kids?”

“Why?”

“Dean, we were way off. The kids are not the hostages. Where are you?”

“What?” Dean chokes out, going completely still.

“It’s the adults. The kids were using them as a cover up. Where are you?”

“The basement. Sam,” Dean pauses, grip tightening on the syringe. “I don’t even have my machete.”

“What?!” Sam barks. His voice comes out in a huff of breath, suggesting that he’s running. Dean can faintly make out Cas saying something in the background. “Okay, you need to get out of there now! We’re on our way!”

Dean finally moves, spinning around with the intent to run back up the stairs, which would’ve been a great escape plan if said stairs weren’t currently being blocked by the little girl, because of course. Of course they were. He swings the flashlight around in an attempt to find any other way out only to find himself face to face with around fifteen adolescent vampires.

“Fuck!” Dean curses into the speaker before the phone falls to the ground. It dawns on him that this rescue mission is about to turn into an ambush, and he sucks in a breath as the vamps all rush him at once. Dean manages to stick one with the syringe, but his empty hands can only get him so far against the rest. The last thing he hears is Sam calling out his name on the speaker before he is violently thrown and his head connects with the concrete wall.

***

Dean eventually regains consciousness only to immediately groan in pain. The pain means he’s alive, at least. That’s a start.

“Dean?” comes a familiar voice, and all the fight leaves Dean’s body. Cas is here now, which means he must be safe. The burning smell that lingers in the air after he goes all smite-y meets Dean’s nose and comforts him further. It’s short lived, however, as another bout of pain wracks his body. Something is definitely broken. Or multiple things. Probably the latter, because that would just be Dean’s luck. Dean groans again and fights to open his eyes. They’re swollen shut, though, and he wonders just what had happened while he was unconscious to cause that.

“Dean,” Cas calls out again, much closer this time. “Both of your legs are broken. One of us has to carry you out of here.”

“You,” Dean barely chokes out, too out of it to care about what he is saying.

“What?” Cas sputters, seemingly taken aback by this response.

“Want you to do it,” he says, and Cas says nothing. Dean almost speaks again, but swallows whatever he was going to say when he feels arms hesitantly move underneath his back and knees. Cas is gonna carry me out bridal style, he finds himself thinking. Before he can even explore the meaning behind that thought, though, Cas begins to move him and the pressure on his legs is agony.

“I know, Dean. I am so sorry,” Cas says, his voice coming out strained. Dean must’ve made some sort of noise again. “I am so sorry I wasn’t here.” Dean wants to tell him to stop apologizing, but his mind becomes distracted again as the trip up the stairs jostles his whole body into more pain. “I’m sorry, Dean.” Cas sounds like a broken record, but his string of apologies is followed by the welcome feeling of grace seeping into Dean’s skin at every point of contact between them. The feeling is intoxicating as it slowly flows through each injury and mends every broken bone, patch of skin, and blood vessel it can reach. By the time Dean feels the breeze on his face, alerting him that they have made it outside, the bottom half of his body is nearly healed. His head, however, is still throbbing and he is faintly aware of the blood dripping down the back of his neck.

“My head,” he croaks, turning to tuck himself further into Cas.

“I know, Dean. My grace is working first in the places where I am touching you. I cannot help your head without dropping you.” He sounds defeated and almost like he has been crying, which is silly. Angels don’t cry, do they?

“Cas,” Dean says anyway, because he cannot seem to manage anything else. He isn’t even sure what exactly he is asking for. “Please.” At first, Dean gets no answer. As the seconds tick by, he loses faith in ever getting one.

That is, until he feels lips press gently against his forehead.

The relief is almost instant, and Dean cannot help but let out a contented sigh. The grace ebbs and flows underneath his skin, and he wonders if this is what salvation feels like. He is so overwhelmed by the feeling that he neglects to process how exactly he received the relief. Just as he hears Sam open the door to the Impala, Dean passes out again.

***

Dean woke up the next morning tucked into his bed at the bunker and immediately started to panic. Did that really happen? Had Cas really done that? Did it mean anything? Ultimately, his spiral was squashed by Sam coming in to check on him, delivering the news that Cas had left to take care of something, and Dean, in true Dean fashion, sufficed to reduce the moment down to one bore of desperation to help a friend and nothing more.

He had himself convinced that he was satisfied with this deduction right up until Charlie came to visit a week later. They had been in the middle of an episode of The Lord of the Rings (Charlie’s pick) when Dean noticed her looking at him funny. She was staring at the same spot on his forehead that he had caught Sam looking at a few times the past few days, though less subtly. Dean pickes up the remote and hits pause, which causes Charlie to suddenly look anywhere but his face.

“What is it?” he asks, hesitation lacing his voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says rather quickly, making Dean huff.

“Charlie.”

“It’s just…”

“What?”

“It’s nothing. It’s stupid.”

“It’s clearly something.”

“Okay, let me rephrase: I don’t think it is something you want to hear,” she answers slowly, moving to meet his eyes. Dean sees question and something else he can’t quite place there, and the soft spot he has for her subdues all hesitancy.

“Just tell me anyway. I know you want to,” he sighs, moving the popcorn bowl to the floor so he can turn to fully face her. She studies his face for a moment before a slow smile creeps up on her own and she moves to mirror him.

“Okay, well…you asked for it. Remember that.”

“Got it,” Dean says flatly, and Charlie has the audacity to laugh at him.

“Okay, I just noticed that you seem to have more freckles than you normally do? Which would usually be a pretty odd and obscure thing to notice, but there’s so many new freckles that I do. Right,” she starts, poking him in the middle of his forehead. “Here. There’s a new cluster.”

“Okay?” Dean replies, more confused than anything now. Why would he not want to hear this? It’s weird, but he isn’t upset by it. “Anything else?”

“Have you ever heard freckles be referred to as angel kisses?” she asks, her grin becoming impossibly larger. Dean just stares at her. “Because many people believe that freckles are where you have been kissed by an angel. So, naturally, I am just curious…”

“Charlie…,” Dean starts, but he isn’t even sure what he wants to say. She ignores him.

“Did you and Cas finally pull your heads out of your asses?” Dean cannot believe what he is hearing. Well, it’s coming from Charlie, so he can, but he still isn’t ready for it.

“I, uh,” he tries. Her eyes seem to light up even more, and he fears he has made it worse.

“No,” he says, and Charlie’s face falls ever so slightly. She manages an “oh”, and Dean rushes to tell her the full story.

“I mean, Cas did, uh, kiss me there. But it was to heal me. He was carrying me and couldn’t reach my head,” he explains. Charlie looks at him curiously and he feels his stomach flip as a mischievous look takes hold in her eyes again.

“Just to heal you?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes? Why else would he?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“God, you are such an idiot. Do you realize that?”

Dean throws his hands in the air out of frustration, but before he can question her about whatever she’s talking about further, he hears the door to the bunker open. Sam is back. Charlie notices too, causing her to squeeze his knee and stand up to go greet his little brother.

“Look, lover boy. Just think about it. And I am begging you,” she says, reaching out to touch his forehead again. “Go look in the mirror.” She giggles as she walks away, and Dean feels left in the dark. He understands what Charlie is insinuating. What he doesn’t understand is how she could possibly think that Cas feels the same way about him that Dean feels about Cas. Cas didn’t love him. Why would he?

Despite these thoughts, Dean still finds himself in front of a mirror fifteen minutes later. Now that he’s looking for it, he does notice the difference. Right where Cas had placed his lips a week prior, a new cluster of freckles had accumulated. He tries to trace a pattern with his eyes, but it just makes his head hurt after a while. This just has to be some crazy coincidence. Right? Cas has kissed other people before. Dean is well aware. He witnessed the whole Meg scene and feels guilty for how sick it had made him feel with jealously. The point is, of all the people Cas has kissed, Dean has never noticed any new freckles. Not on Meg and CERTAINLY not on April. So why him? Is it something Cas has control over? Or something Dean is overthinking that means nothing at all?

Dean eventually manages to tear himself away from the mirror, but the idea haunts him for days. The thought keeps him up at night, and thankfully Sam has the grace to not bring it up.

He caves after the fifth day.

“Dean?” he starts, and the cautious tone in his voice immediately puts Dean on edge. He freezes beside the fridge and suddenly feels cornered within the kitchen.

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine, Sammy.”

“Dean,” he says insistently. Dean doesn’t have the patience for this conversation.

“What, Sam? What?!”

“I know you haven’t been sleeping very well. Is something going on with you?” Dean huffs a dry laugh.

“Nothing you could help me with, believe me.” Sam looks hurts, and Dean regrets the way he phrased that sentence. “I didn’t mean it like that. Don’t worry about me, dude.”

“Dean-”

“I’ll be in my room,” Dean says, cutting him off. He grabs a beer on his way out and ignores his brother’s protests. When he reaches his bedroom, he slams the door shut behind him and lands rather ungracefully on his memory foam mattress. As if his distress could be sensed, he pulls his phone out to be greeted by a text from Charlie.

Sam told me you aren’t sleeping. Does it have anything to do with what we talked about?

Dean laughs bitterly. Of course Sam told her.

Why would you put that into my head?

He almost immediately regrets saying that once he hits send. He can see that she read it already, though, so there is no taking it back.

Oh Dean

Why don’t you just talk to him?

How am I supposed to talk to him about that?

With your words?

Not funny

Come on

It was a little funny

Not laughing

Okay old man

Anyway

It’s Cas, dude. Nothing you say to him is gonna

make him go a-wall on you

He isn’t even at the bunker right now

He hasn’t been here since that hunt

Interesting

Very interesting

Why would that be interesting?

He disappears like this all the time

You’re very stupid

And dense

It’s almost endearing

You are not helping at all

Oh really?

You want my kind of help?

I can play that game

Wait Charlie

What do you mean by that

Charlie

Charlie never answers him, and Dean throws his phone down with a grumble. He feels like a stupid teenager again and it’s miserable. All over what? Some stupid theory? He wants to throw up. He nurses his beer and feels like a pathetic mess. The minutes pass slow, and he has no idea what to think. He loves Charlie, but he doesn’t trust her. Not when it comes to stuff like this. He knows better than that. Dean moves to take another swig, but the familiar sound of feathers rustling makes him choke on it.

Dammit, Charlie!

“Dean?” Cas questions from the other side of the door, and Dean’s resolve crumbles.

“Come in, Cas,” he sighs, but it sounds broken. What is wrong with him? The angel reluctantly opens the door and appears nervous as he shuts it behind him.

“Charlie said you, um,” he pauses, and Dean notices that he’s wringing his hands. Such a human habit. “She said you wanted to talk to me.”

“So, what? You just dropped everything to come and see me?” Dean bites out. It sounds like an accusation. He supposes it is. “I thought you were too busy with angel business to come home.” Dean hadn’t realized how hurt he has been by Cas being gone for this long until now. In comparison to how long he’d been gone before, it really shouldn’t have mattered. Something had changed, though, and Dean had missed him worse than usual.

“I was trying to give you space,” Cas blurts out. His eyes fall to the floor and Dean stares at him in confusion.

“Why?”

“I had a feeling you would feel uncomfortable when you woke up regarding the way I healed your head and couldn’t bare to deal with the fallout. So I gave you space. Apparently, according to Charlie, my suspicions were correct.” Dean is having trouble processing this all. Couldn’t bare to deal with the fallout? What does that mean?

“What exactly did Charlie tell you?” Cas still refuses to meet his eyes and he hesitates before answering.

“That you have been freaking out over the freckles my healing left behind and their implications. I am sorry you have lost sleep over this.” He sounds ashamed. Dean is still confused.

“So that was you? They’re from you?”

“Yes, Dean. I apologize. I usually am able to avoid leaving a claim like that, but sometimes when I am feeling overly affectionate I lose control. I can remove them for you now.”

“No!” Dean yells immediately. Cas finally looks up at him, and this time he is the one confused. He squints and gives Dean his signature head tilt, which almost causes the hunter to fold right there. “No, Cas. We’re gonna come back to that thing about leaving a claim later, but I, uh, I like them. Yeah.”

“You do?” Cas asks, and this time Dean swears he seems hopeful.

“I do. I, uh…” Oh god. What is he doing? “Can I have more?”

“What?” Disbelief this time. Not rejection, though. Dean can work with that.

“Can I have more?”

“Dean,” Cas pleads. This time his voice is strained. It does something to Dean’s insides. “Do you understand what you’re asking me? I need to know you understand, because…”

“Because what?” Cas looks like he’s about to cry. Dean moves forward and doesn’t stop until he’s close enough to reach out and touch him.

“Because I need to know this means the same thing to you as it does to me. I don’t think I can do this if it doesn’t.” Dean reaches out and grips Cas’ shoulder, staring at his hand sitting in the same place his own body had been gripped tight and raised him from perdition.

“What does it mean to you?”

“Dean…”

“Cas.”

“I fear you will not want me around anymore if I tell you.” Dean moves both hands to lapels of his coat and pulls him close enough for their lips to brush on his next words.

“Wanna bet, angel?” And then, finally, Dean crashes their lips together. Cas lets out a sound of surprise, and Dean, honest to god, laughs into his mouth. He stops, though, when Cas starts to kiss him back.

Kissing Cas is unlike anything Dean has ever done with anyone else. He’s never had a kiss mean this much, and suddenly he’s crying. Cas’ hands are on his face, cradling him and wiping away the tears, and Dean thinks that this is what Heaven is supposed to feel like. Screw the other angels and screw God. This was Heaven. After what seems like forever, Cas pulls away and stares at Dean in astonishment. His lips are swollen, and Dean blissfully thinks I did that.

“I love you,” Dean admits. It surprises him how easy it is to say it. He watches as Cas’ eyes crinkle at the edges, filling with their own tears. I guess angels do cry.

“I love you too, Dean. So very much. You taught me how to.” The angel is smiling the biggest Dean has ever seen him, and Dean has never felt happier. He dives back in to feel that smile on his own lips, which is only met with eager enthusiasm on Cas’ part.

They spend their night like that, making out lazily in bed and riding the high that comes with finally admitting your feelings for each other after years of pent-up regression. Cas is laying in bed, curled into Dean with his eyes closed, when Charlie attempts to call him. Dean sends her to voicemail and almost instantly receives a text.

What? Too busy to give me an update?

I don’t want to disturb him

He looks peaceful

HA

OH MY GOD

I’M FUCKING AWESOME

You are

You’re welcome

I love you

I know

I take it back Han Solo

Only I can do that

I love you too

Dork

I want details tomorrow <3

***

At around three in the morning, Dean reluctantly untangles himself from the sleeping angel to take a piss. He’d been under the impression that angels didn’t sleep, but Dean wasn’t about to question it. It was Cas, the angel “cursed” with humanity. Of course he could sleep if he wanted to.

With a smile, Dean quietly pads down the hallway to the bathroom. He flicks the light on but stops short once he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Reflected back at him are new freckles around his lips and down his neck, charting constellations on his skin that he doesn’t recognize. Cas probably does. Dean grins even larger and laughs. He isn’t used to getting nice things, let alone getting to keep them.

What a wonderful feeling it is to love and be loved in return.

[deepest-dope]

remember my ex-raider post? no? im referencing it anyway! so anyways heres the new vegas companions ranked for how long admitting to being an ex raider would shut them up, listed longest time to shortest time! you can use it for your own ocs i guess but this is mostly based on my boy cave

boone stopped talking for an entire week after. he'd just barely gotten conversational after 1 month of traveling together towards vegas. he was talking about the ncr too much and too positively. it took 2 more weeks for him to get back to what counts as conversational for boone. hes not really chatty in the first place but his weirdly high trust in the ncr even after what he himself is upset about them putting him through is very grating. cave dropped an additional im a jackal and ex-powder ganger bomb month 3 after craig tried to suggest he enlist after a trip to bitter springs. they never really got to start talking again before boone was killed.

cass went quiet after being told and stayed quiet for 3 entire days. got over it in the end though, but mostly because he's not a raider anymore. nobody tell her its only ex because he literally cannot get back to his old group and he does not trust anyone else enough to run with. probably shouldnt say anything about having considered trying to join the great khans for a while before unfortunate circumstances ended up souring his relationship with most of the great khans he was close to either. this was before she figured out he was an addict which she was honestly way more upset about, she was pestering him to drink with her.

raul took one full day to get over it, actually suspected it for a while beforehand based on cave's vaguely guilty reaction to being told the story of how raul's family died. doesnt really hold it against cave like boone and cass did either. he is the first and for a long time only person to realize cave uses the fact he used to be a raider as an easy single use method to make people shut up and leave him alone for a while. cave used it because he ran out of stuff to keep withdrawal at bay and just needed some quiet time without raul razzing him or kvetching at him. raul is actually semi-prepared to come to cave's defense for when he tells other people that little tidbit about himself if they have a bad reaction to it. not where cave can see him do it though.

arcade took until cave was finished cooking for everyone, so like an hour at most, but wasnt overly hung up on it. cave actually pulled that card out more for arcades benefit then his own because arcade was stumbling over another attempt to cover up his past with the enclave badly. arcade wasnt that torn up over it but could tell cave needed a little time to himself, but not that cave usually uses the ex raider bomb to get time to himself. also semi-prepared to come to caves defense if anyone takes the ex-raider thing badly. it actually helps arcade feel better admitting to being an enclave citizen to cave. they both think their past is much worse then each others.

veronica takes it 2nd best out of everyone at like 30 minutes tops, and thats mostly because she was eating lunch with him. also the only one to really pick up on the fact that he would very much still be a raider if he still had his family and is pretty understanding of this. also fully prepared to play defense with raul and arcade if anyone ever finds out and takes it badly. dude gives her every pristine dress he gets his hands on and has her eternal friendship by now.

grandma lily took zero time to come to terms with it. she was fussing over him for whatever reason and he dropped the ex raider bomb trying to get her off his back for a minute and she said "its okay sweetie, you and your old friends all did what you had to to make it out there in the wasteland. no shame in that at all, grandma still loves you" and ended up making cave cry for the first time in a decade. raul had to take over cooking dinner for the group while he was crying uncontrollably. leader of the jimmy defenders.

[ackermansimper]

It's you

Word count: 0.8k (Levi x reader)

It's you - Ali Gatie

-Summary: You're the only person Levi could ever imagine loving and being loved by. He's been broken many times before but he puts his trust in you anyway to not leave him and stick by his side

It's you. The only person Levi could ever imagine trying to love in this broken world. It'd always be you. One of the first people he met when he came up to the surface. One of the only people who showed him compassion and didn't immediately judge him based on where he was from. Nobody was like you.

When he finally confessed to you over slurred and stuttering words, it was clear he wasn't sure. He loved you, he always acted a bit nervous around you despite beginning to climb the ranks and earn himself respect. Still though, he crumbled upon you. And the day you accepted his feelings didn't make it any better. He was beginning to warm up to you and was a bit more comfortable but he seemed afraid. Afraid you'd leave him or something.

It was like he was begging you not to each time he looked at you or changed his tone when you were around. How he lessened his insults and stayed more quiet around you. As if to mask his bluntness and rudeness everyone usually hated and judged him for.

He loved being with you though. Despite wanting to be better in your eyes and constantly wanting to falter his attitude and self for you, he enjoyed being with you. He liked being able to just hug you and not get any backlash. He liked being able to hold your hand. He liked the cheek kisses you'd give him, the head pats, hair ruffles, he liked it all.

But he's been broken before. The day his two friends died was what made him so afraid. Afraid you could leave or get killed by a Titan like his friends. Then he'd be alone again. He didn't wanna get too used to all your affection for that reason but it was addictive. He was addicted to your love but didn't want to. But just like any drug, he got withdrawals. The high of your love made him feel like he was on cloud nine but if he ever wanted to try challenging himself to stay away for a bit, prepare for the inevitably of your death, he couldn't. The fall was too hard.

That's what initially made him to decide to just be selfish and take as much as he could. To get all the love he could from you. At some point he didn't care who was watching. He hated PDA yet always had to be holding your hand. He doesn't want to be broken though. You could leave, find someone else better than him. You could get yourself in danger and die. He was gonna be greedy and keep himself from breaking that way. He was delicate. Had to take care of himself and be selfish. He couldn't let himself break anymore than he already had.

He didn't wanna open up to you at first. To have the people who know your deepest darkest secrets quite literally take it to the grave was terrifying to him. That's how it was with them. With Furlan and Isabel. They died with his secrets. They died as the closest people to him. He didn't want to be open with you. But he couldn't help himself and soon you were the person who knew him best. The person who only needed a glance to know if he was uncomfortable, upset, angry, joyed. He didn't wanna be open and then find out your love wasn't real.

Levi knows all too well that he shouldn't be with you. He knows that. You deserve better than him. You deserve someone not so greedy that they constantly stick by you. You deserve someone who isn't so unstable with themselves. Someone who can be their real self around you. He can't even tell if he's faking it or not anymore. When with you he's more quiet, his attentions on you. His coldness seemes to melt around you. He's more talkative as long as it's you talking to him. He tries harder to be in the conversation if you're in it. He tries harder for your attention and almost forgets about the normal insulting comments he'd usually throw around.

He knows his past speaks for itself but he's so happy you didn't judge him on it. That might be why he's trying to distance himself from it a bit. Maybe he's a bit scared that everyone's first opinion of him was right and you'll realize it soon too. Maybe he doesn't wanna be left again with history repeating itself. He doesn't wanna be abandoned by will or by not. He just wants you by his side.

Because it's you. The love of his life. The only one he wants to try for. The only one he needs approval and love from.

♥ Thank you for reading ♥

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Trimax Thoughts Vol. 3 Pt. 1

Some more miscellaneous thoughts. I realized it's actually more convenient to do these before any analysis because. Well. I actually haven't read this manga before. Why was I trying to do full analyses before just letting myself read it. Why am I a dumbass.

Anyways.

It's the repression my dude

(Ok but can we talk about how Wolfwood doesn't really lie and his eyes convey his emotions whether he wants it or not and he still feels strongly because that attachment keeps him going and then how Vash has had to withdraw and shove everything into a box somewhere deep inside him because he always has to maintain a distance and always has to leave aughhh)

Ohhhhh that part where Vash is able to tell exactly how many strikes are incoming... I love how he becomes really precise and calculating in a fight. It's a really great way to show the severity of a situation and his skill and experience! (Bonus points: he does this in Tristamp too - I still cannot get over the way the animators chose to have him move right before he pulls out his gun in ep 1 - I went on an unhinged ramble about that. He's always fluid and grounded. I adore those animators they did a fantastic job.)

!!! I think this is the first time we've actually seen Knives' face since the Fifth Moon Incident! ...there's something to examine in this.

Feral Wolfwood <3

Yikes. If we wanted more emphasis on the way a lot of people around Vash do not stop to consider the severity of death. The violence is so typical in this world it's treated as a scene from which one can be detached. Vash's honest distress and compassion as entertainment :(

Hey. What the fuck.

The baby with the gun would be a lot funnier if I didn't know what Leonof had to do to people to make his puppets.

SICK AND TWISTED. WTF.

Ok say what you will though but Leonof so far has been the only one of the GHG that I think actually understands the assignment. Like. Yeah, this sure is the way to fucking break the guy. What the hell.

Oh, Vash knows him? Maybe that's why Leonof knows how to hurt him so well...?

AUGH he had puppet Doc, who vouched for Vash earlier to Brad, call him a demon!!! This also means he was killed! WTF

AUGHHHH wolfwood :(((

Meryl and Milly I love you so so much

Whjfhbdsjfbhv??? Girl??????

Vash: *starts blaming himself* Luida: "no." Vash: "oh, ok." :(

Hair down Vash <3

I really love the way we find out a bit more about Vash in this chapter. Him taking Meryl and Milly to a special place that helps him relax and heal and feel closer to Rem, even if he doesn't quite tell them that's what it is. Meryl knowing it's important somehow anyways and feeling like she can see him a little more clearly. Wolfwood freaked the hell out by the idea that Vash is immortal, but instead of leaving it at his assumptions, he still goes to talk to Luida and ask questions, who immediately proceeds to emphasize how lonely yet kind he is. We learn a lot about Vash in this chapter without him actually revealing anything about himself directly - all through other people, and the impact he's made on them. And I like how even though we find out more and more the differences between human and whatever Vash actually is, we circle right back around to confirming what we already knew about him from the beginning - he's fundamentally a kind man with a lot of pain in his heart who always makes the active choice to be nice. Just. Agh.

Wolfwood, running while carting his stupid IV pole over his shoulder: "oh fuck I need to protect women (and Vash)"

Softest look I've ever seen. What.

But ohhh does this make me happy. Because he's spent this volume thinking Vash has no survival instinct because he's immortal, etc., which terrifies him because he cannot understand not fighting to survive. Vash's smile makes a comeback here, but he now understands that it's not just a mask, it is the way he fights to survive. That smile is Vash's struggle to live in the same way the violent struggle is his, and Wolfwood I think/hope is starting to realize again that the gap is not so wide between them. He's calmed enough to remember that he actually likes this guy. Augh.

[rrelationshipadvice]

Hi! I'm in great need of advice right now and I feel like I've already tried everything.

So to give this some backstory: I was in a situationship with a guy for around three months. A few days after our first kiss, he told me he wanted to stay friends instead. His reason was that he's not ready for a relationship and that he can't love someone until he learns to love himself (he has pretty low self-esteem). A few days later we talked it out because I told him that it's too early to become exclusive anyway, I would like to try dating him a bit before we become official, I think we really clicked and have great chemistry etc. He agreed and told me that his real reason was that that day some friends and mates from uni (we go to the same one) saw us together and it was too weird for him and he didn't know what to do so he ignored and later rejected me. I was hurt, sad and angry but he sincerely apologised and asked for a second chance so we made up. He opened up about his terrible mental health and how he tends to push people away when thing are rough, and told me that he's basically going through a mild depressive episode right now and wants to put in more effort and treat me better in the future.

The next weeks were amazing. We had fun dates together, celebrated each other's accomplishements and supported each other when things were hard with family or uni or anything. I truly felt a connection.

I never brought up becoming official because I was scared he might leave again. But I told him that I want him and I'm pretty sure that if things continue this way I'll end up falling for him.

The one day he disappeared completely for around 3-4 days and finally he told me through text and phone that he doesn't want to continue things between us. The reason being that he's not in love and he doesn't think he'll ever will be. A few days later we talked on the phone and both apologised for things we did and might have done wrong. He also told me that he's in a pretty bad place mentally and has been feeling complete apathy for a few weeks. I told him that I'm also not feeling well and that my anxiety is killing me because of family drama and exams.

I sent him a text a few days later and told him that after a while I would like to start again, for real this time, paying more attention to both our own and each other's mental health. He did not reject me but did not answear either. We texted a few times and he even helped me through an anxiety attack during which I told him that I really don't want to lose him and that I would consider staying friends for this reason. He told me that he still likes me and that the reason that he didn't reply was that he wanted to give a real answear not just a short ok but he did not have time because of exams.

We met a few days ago after a month of somewhat separation (we did ocasionally text and call after all) and things were great at first. It felt like nothing had happened, he never hurt me and everything was back to normal.

Then I asked if he considered getting back together. He told me no, he just wants friendship. The conversation quickly became about his mental health and why he left me.

He told me that I did everything more than right he just didn't fall in love and that he missed nothing specific just that "she's the one" feeling. I told him that he might need to consider his own apathy and withdrawal in that and he agreed but still told me that for now he doesn't want to start over. Eventually we managed to talk all feelings out and he told me that he's deeply afraid of commitment, haven't considered dating or getting a girlfriend for years (even though he feels and felt pressured to do so) and got scared when I told him that I might fall for him since he could not reciprocate it.

He often told me how he really enjoyed our time together and how I changed his worldview for the better etc. He did all that plus complimented me on small stuff a lot even payed for my coffee.

We said a kind of bittersweet goodbye and I asked for time and spece before trying to be friends.

Now here's my problem: what should I do now?

I really like this guy. Truly. I don't even click with most of my friends in the way I click with him. He just gets me. We have ton of similarities and our differences balance each other out in a perfect way, challenging us both to grow. I would consider being friends better than not having him in my life.

He told me all the traits of a person with an avoidant attachment about himself. Even without being directly asked about them, just as explanation for his actions. He felt our chemistry too and genuenly enjoyed our time together before I told him I'm open to something more serious.

He kind of desperately wants to be friends and keep me in his life. He endured all my big emotions in the past month and really tried to communicate his feelings (he's terrible at that by the way). He told me he wants to keep all the gifts I gave him (we gave each other personal handmade gifts for christmas). He's still as sweet, caring and interested in my life as he was at the begining of us getting to know each other.

Is it wrong to become friends with the hope that he might come back one day? I feel like we have a future if he gets to know me better, begins to trust me deeper and we build better connection together.

I also think that my feelings for him will fizzle out with time and of course I won't try to seduce him or make him jealous. I still feel like I'm manipulating him somehow by hoping that he still has/will have feelings for me if we stay friends.

I feel completely hopeless. I don't want us to hurt each other anymore I just want us to be happy.

Sorry for my english (not my native language) and thanks in advance for all advice and opinions.

.

[insomniamamma]

Ok, some thoughts on episode one of The Last of Us under the cut:

I’m going to preface this by saying i know next to nothing about the game. I’ve seen gifs of it here, but that’s where my knowledge ends. Once Pedro’s casting was announced I decided that I was not going to watch any playthroughs. I wanted to go in with fresh eyes as much as possible. OK. Disclamer done. Here are some thoughts I had in no particular order.

I loved that they showed outbreak day through Sarah’s eyes. She’s just going to school and doing ordinary things. There’s hints around the edges that something is happening, but nothing direct, and I thought this served to crank the tension up to eleven. Sarah is our window into this world, and I love that we only know what she knows.

Also, the sweetness of the relationship between Joel and Sarah and Tommy. They only give us a little but it’s enough to see how much these three care about each other. I love Tommy mooching leftovers out of Joel’s fridge. That’s such a baby brother thing to do.

I love that the focus stays narrow as things inevitably go to shit. The world is coming apart and we see it happening through the windows of Joel’s truck while they’re trying to get out of town.

Even when they abandon the truck the camera is right on Joel and Sarah. IDK I was white knuckled through the first 30 minutes.

As soon as that FEDRA lady started promising that little kid all the toys he wanted to play with I was just like oh no.

The QZ. Yikes.

OK. I’m just gonna take a minute to scream about Pedro Pascal. The difference between how Joel carries himself pre and post breakout is so fucking stark.  I’ve seen several gifsets that show pre and post breakout Joel side by side and the difference in body language is incredible. Pedro can do so much with so little. There’s no need to explain Joel’s grief and withdrawal, it’s etched into every movement and facial expression. The shot of him cradling the dead child the same way he held Sarah and throwing him onto the fire, the absolute lack of emotion. Holy fucking shit. Pedro needs to get all the awards for this show and we’re only one ep in.

Ellie. I’ve had Ellie for one episode and if anything happens to her I will kill everyone in the room and then myself. Seriously though. I love this scrappy little girl. What’s the Troubled Bird meme about being 5oz’s of whoop-ass? She is twenty pounds of murder in a ten pound bag and I love her for it. I’m sorry, but when she pops out of that door and tries to stab Joel and he just launches her into the wall? I’ve got to imagine that his first thought was what the actual fuck?

I love her ok? I love her foul mouth, and snark and the fact that she’s the willing to fuck with Joel after knowing him for tens of minutes. I can’t wait to see these two bounce off each other some more.

And Tess. As I said before I know nothing about the games. But I’ll tell you right now that I love this lady. I have a feeling this is going to hurt me later on though. I love the relationship between her and Joel, there’s no I love you type histrionics, it’s all implied.

Anyway, that’s all I’ve got for now. I’ll probably post more nonsense as it occurs to me.

[lisarpgheadcanons]

Since you said please, here are my headcanons for the mutants in LISA: The Joyul:

Bobo: He was jumped and beaten by the Vega boys, and thrown into the cave. Once he mutated, Sindy's men came along and tried to kill him, but they couldn't find his neck, so they gave up and left him to bleed out.

Cooper: Still not having adapted to the violence of Olathe, he was left deeply disturbed by their ruthless beating of Bobo, and he mutated on the spot after heavy mental trauma.

Baby: The only Joy user in the Pacifist Village. Once he started taking Joy, his pacifistic nature clashed with the violent urges Joy gives, and it was overwhelming to the point where he mutated.

Bobby: i cant fucking tell you what happened here I'm gonna be real /j

Anyways Bobby was one of the three men who kidnapped Buddy, but in a conflict with the other 2 over what they do with her, he was struck fatally and got his legs cut off. This is when he mutated and killed them both. (There are supposed to be three corpses, 2 of Sindy's men and one pair of legs, though I heard it doesn't show up).

Chester: During the transition from Painful to Joyful, most of his customers opted to sell him a bunch of shit in exchange for Joy. Obviously, this spike in sales was good for business, a downside being his cargo was getting way heavier. His back eventually gave in and broke, and his body fused to the cabinet to make sure he can stand up.

Arty: Funnily enough, Terry Hintz was the one who dealt the final blow to Arty. With a knuckle voyage, his head was rocked hard against the stone floor. Terry fled, abandoning the land of hints once and for all, and leaving Arty to guard his depressing ass village.

Harry: Kidnapped by the Joy Boys and specifically mutated in order to guard their hideout. Tooley was able to sneak past with whatever teleportation tricks the Rangers have.

Sweetheart: Obviously a personal experiment by Dr. Yado, bred for killing. Most of the deaths we see in Eastern Olathe are from Sweetheart.

Buzzo himself was actually quite scared, though the numbing of the Joy at that point was enough for him to build up to courage to fight it. Not without a steep price, however.

Louie: Personally beat and mutated to use him in the battle against Sindy Gallows. It was a setup to look like a normal hunt, but Sindy was caught off guard by his men turning against him. There were a lot more than just the quartet we saw. It was one of the bloodiest fights Olathe had ever seen.

And, of course, the best for last:

Dice Mahone: Dice's joy use was probably the worst in all of Olathe. His withdrawals were the scariest thing one could witness. He was expecting a deal with Buzzo's gang, however, when the came and announced they were no longer distributing the pill, he was quickly enraged. A battle ensued, and before he could get far, he was struck over the head with a pipe. Sindy's men were also involved as they heard what was going down. It's considered the last major gang fight before Olathe's power structure effectively collapsed.

.

[izzyspussy]

okay scene.

they run into hornigold or vane or who the fuck ever, and unlike jack they have their entire crew there and no ulterior motive that means they have to buddy up.

it's exactly like when badminton #1 shows up and everyone has to pretend to be frilly rich guys and have tea, but the opposite way. everyone has to put on, basically, an izzysona.

anyway it doesn't quite work out. nobody really likes being izzy, not even izzy aksfjks. and ed especially has fallen enough out of the habit of being a Big Scary Leatherman Pirate that he doesn't play the role as well as he could.

so anyway, of course this leads to an unexpected battle with a crew that even if they had been at their absolute best and were fully prepared to fight they wouldn't have a clear chance at beating. bit dire. it ends up more violent even than the raids the revenge crew shadowed the anne crew on in the beginning. merchants vs pirates is one thing, even navy vs pirates is one thing. pirates vs pirates is on a whole other level.

anyway so izzy by himself kills like a dozen guys in as many minutes. fang and ivan kill about two thirds as many guys between them in the same time. ed is maiming at a rate just behind izzy, and stede is pretty far behind him but mostly keeping up. jim is maiming sometimes, killing sometimes, not really paying attention to which, just putting their knives everywhere their knives can go. everyone else is just barely holding their own, but they are holding it.

ed himself of course ends up facing the other crew's captain. he's got the exact disadvantage that izzy was always worried about, just a touch of softness, and the fear of himself that being the kraken didn't give him but did certain exacerbate, he's out of practice. and if it's hornigold there's another disadvantage there, the history of being this man's victim, the echoes of paternalistic violence from before him. add on to that ed's penchant to - when not in a rage - fight mostly fair, and. well. it doesn't go great.

after a somewhat extended and pretty dirty swordfight, hornigold/vane disarms ed, flings his sword off to who knows where. ed's got his full leather on though, so he doesn't get cut up right off and he's still fighting, until hornigold/vane manages to knock him down, and then he can play it really dirty and stomp on his bad knee. he cries out, and both stede and izzy are instantly eagle-eyed in to his situation.

hornigold/vane is standing imposingly over ed on the deck below him, about to stab him dead or shoot him or whatever.

stede runs him completely through from one side. izzy runs him completely through from the other side. their swords cross inside him.

when they withdraw, before hornigold/vane crumples onto the deck dead, ed is showered in his blood like it's rain.

seeing ed stand up, covered head to toe in their brutal captain's blood, stede pushing his dripping hair back from his face and licking the red from his mouth to kiss him, izzy kicking hornigold/vane's body over and spitting on it, none of the rest of the revenge crew so much as taking note of any of this, the other crew is like. aight that's our bad we was wrong you guys are obviously crazy so sorry for the misunderstanding we're headed out again so sorry our mistake.

stede gives them a gay little wave as they go.

(and then stede and izzy rinse all the blood off of ed together. they both covered him in it after all. it's only right.)

[afterthegreatunknown]

sbg friendship: widdershins and josephine

'that moment when you were about to reblog an old ask meme game you made a while back and realize since you were the creator of the ask meme you can just do it whenever at the moment it's yours you just need to change it a bit'

Who I think befriended the others first: Josephine. She reached out to him at lunch time the day after his introduction. They had a nice conversation about Lake Lachrymose, for Widdershins noticed her bag had a pin from one of the gift shops there.

(If you ask Widdershins under the very right circumstances, he would say he befriended Josephine first, offering her a snack inside a nook at City's Headquarters. Of course, he would quickly 'correct' himself, saying, "That was a lie, yes." But it's not a lie at all.)

Who I think would steal the food of(f) the other plate: Widdershins. He has an appetite that seemingly knows no bounds. Josephine isn't upset by this; she gives him the leftovers she can't finish anyway.

Which one would tell the other a secret first: Josephine. Widdershins doesn't look the sorts, but he can in fact keep a secret and will never share it, even in the most extremes of situations. Josephine thinks because no one really knows anything about him, it makes Widdershins so great at keeping secrets.

Ideal Hangout Locations: Lake Lachrymose (as a whole; they avoid the hell out of the Anxious Clown though), the Queequeg (when it's built), Widdershins' Flat (before the Queequeg was built), The City's Chinatown (they usually get food there), and Briny Beach (especially when it's an overcast day).

Which one would pretend to be their significant other if the situation ever calls for it: Widdershins does it more often than not due to his philosophy of not hesitating. When Josephine begin dating/gets married to Ike, Widdershins stops it, telling the unwanted party that Josephine's partner can kick their ass and pretends to start calling Ike in the nearest payphone.

What causes them to fight (seriously or jokingly): They fight in a weird in-the-middle grey area. They can get heated/very passionate of something they believe in, and they say silly comments at one another which at times gets the others who see said debate between the two worry. But it never escalate to more.

How they stop being friends (or not): Three words.

Gregor. Anwhistle. Death.

Josephine is smart. Not long after the Anwhistle Aquatic Fire, Josephine knew some of her associates knew something about it. She was quickly able to put the pieces together on the people responsible and/or involve in the Anwhistle Aquatic Fire to any degree. And Josephine when learning all their identities...

Josephine slowly began withdrawing herself from them all. She didn't do a 'NO CONTACT ASAP' for them, because here's the thing: she knows why they believe their cause. Josephine agrees what Gregor was doing was too extreme, too dangerous. But Gregor was her family, her brother. Brother-in-law, but that doesn't matter. And the people she was so close with almost like family betrayed her.

Widdershins was the last of the people Josephine stop being friends with, for two reasons. Reason one: He lost his wife in the same fire that killed Gregor, and Josephine in a moment of 'cruelty' thought of it as karma. Reason two: Widdershins 'apologize' for Gregor's death. Josephine knew now way in hell he would admit his involvement, but his words to her at Gregor's funeral were so close to one, Josephine couldn't help but cry into his arms when hearing them.

(Widdershins suspected Josephine knew he was involve. The way she was treating him at arm's length, being hesitate around him with words and actions, that's the only way to explain it. Widdershins will never apologize for Gregor's death. Never. But that day at the funeral, Widdershins felt he own Josephine words of ease.)

That was the last time they talk in person, and the penultimate time Josephine saw him (to Widdershins, it was in fact, the final time they saw one another). They wrote the occasional letter (Josephine learn how he was assign to patrol the lake in certain seasons), made a few phone calls (Ike answers phone and gave it to her), but nothing more. When Ike died, all of that stop.

Regarding the final time Josephine saw him...she was in her grammar library, sitting in Ike's armchair. She was looking out the library window, when she heard a loud knock at her door. Josephine cautiously walked to the door, and looked out the door hole.

And there she sees Widdershins in his coat over his uniform, looking around, with a newspaper underneath his arm. He stood there, set the newspaper on the front mat, and then walked away.

Josephine slowly opened the door, and looked down, understanding why he came to visit: the Baudelaire Mansion burned down, killing Beatrice and Bertrand and leaving their children orphans.

[slut4sway]

Anywherebound / chapter VIII : twenty so and one-oh-three

Don't get me ventin' on friends who resent you

'Cause all you've ever done is been a noose to hang on to

They thought was a necklace and reckless

They fell into Hell where you both hang with nothing to do but

Scratch, kick, let gravity win like

Fuck this, let gravity win like

You could leave it all behind

Even the Devil need time alone sometimes

You could let it all go, you could let it go

It’s called: freefall

•

Anyway, you say you're too busy

And you don't want no help, oh well

That's the story to tell

•

trevor’s journal entry : it’s easy to fallout. but hard to realize. i don’t think i ever wanna see you again but i still keep myself thinking you’ll be there when i need you but i really know you’ll move on some day. i don't want this old flame to warm me anymore but I don't want to get cold

notes : catch the hidden twenty so-zb, cold blooded-zb and driving-zb references !

tw : past self-harm, past suicide attempts (implied)

🛣️•••••••••••••••••••🗺️

6/5/23

5:12am

Jamie. It always starts with fucking Jamie. Hooking up with him, or just Jamie fucking Drysdale.

That boy was a noose disguised as a shiny, pretty pearl necklace. He fell into hell because of some pearls and a clasp they latched together.

Trevor loved shiny things.

Trevor always had to help polish Jamie and keep him shiny, so much so that his own glint was gone.

He kind of misses being in the wake of burning down their love, but it felt better to watch it five hundred miles away in another city. There's only so much heat a heart can suffer through, though; so he drowns it in Jamie's cold blood that should freeze a million fragments of his glass heart over soon enough. His soul is so flooded. Can't Jamie just be his muse and vice again? Wouldn't it be something if they could find a way, someplace and somewhere in time where they could be fine? Jamie was a spitfire. Jamie was a fireball whiskey-shooting boy. Nevertheless, he was cold-blooded. Cold as ice.

Apart does them better, but letting go is killing Trevor softly. Eight years ago, he thought he would be on his wedding day with Jamie. With no baby's breath flowers polka-dotting the bouquets' pattern or wedding cake's flavors dancing on their tongues, Trevor finds himself in a beat-down neon motel just outside of Cedar City, Utah. Slowly, ever so slowly but surely killing the indifference in Trevor's face and transforming it into internalized hurt.

Too much was changing all at once. Change was scary. Change was like a cougar lurking in the shrubs, ready to strike at any moment and overwhelm them with too much to process. Change was like an airstrike on an unsuspecting small town. Change was an unforgiving, ruthless thing. First of all, he's quit drugs and alcohol cold turkey with no knowledge of if it would last. Withdrawals have been shit, which explains his mood swings and especially how emotionless he was when he left Jamie sobbing on his living room floor. The world isn't meant for showing mercy, and the sight of the boy he once loved, or still loved... it's unclear.. was so much to bear he could barely even process it. When Jamie first suggested Trevor go fuck off to New York, Trevor was the one breaking down. It's a hell of a change to flip the switch and break the boy who broke him. Secondly, who else does he have? Sure, he's got Jack, Cole, and the guys; but how could he even bring it up? Jamie gave worn-out excuses about his horrible judgment and substance abuse, and he stayed purely for the sole reason of sympathy. What's the use in loving a letdown like Jamie? He's let Trevor down just like every time before, and he's just been slamming doors and then crawling back and begging him for another fix of whatever coke he laced in his existence. Truth to god, Trevor would be more addicted to Jamie than any hard drug. Jamie would let him down for the hundred and third time when Trevor eventually calls him up drunk, pleading for him to have him. He knows he makes his spine shiver, just like the way Jamie did to him. Really, Jamie isn't as terrible as anyone makes him out to be. He's just another kid with mental illness and addiction to boy problems. What made him so special to Trevor was how he wasn't just a boy; he was his whole multiverse.

Jamie. He was the silence to his loud.

It's no surprise 'forever' doesn't really last. Those promises they made to each other, whether it be to stay sober or promise themselves to each other, didn't mean jack shit now. He was already 500 miles away, and he's been taking it really slow. Driving through the desert is quite scenic. Even on the highway, it's not hard for someone to find themselves indulging in the American West's natural beauty. It would be by far more beautiful if he had that wispy-haired boy next to him, pointing out the window to every ranch or sight yelling 'cow!' or 'horse!' like a child on a family road trip. The desert sure is hot, and the fire inside Trevor was burning just as scorching. Jamie and Trevor had no purpose. They were young, dumb, and half-dead, but Trevor could only pray he would go back to Jamie's heavy and loving gaze he had fixed on him when he was sober for once in his life.

•

The neon sign buzzed in the corner of his eye, as he sat outside by the illuminated pool. The sky always seemed bigger in Utah. His car is one of the few parked vehicles in the small, corroded lot a couple hundred yards over. The weight of his emotions weighed him down in the plastic Adirondack chair, binding him down so he wasn't able to leave. Everything was so heavy. He'd lost weight yet he still felt like he was carrying a million pounds on his shoulders, causing his collarbones to crack. Gravity could pull him down to the core and he wouldn't resist. He wouldn't scratch, kick, thrash, or bite; just let the force of gravity win. Just... let it all go. Even the air was thick and dry, and each inhale scratched at his lungs and gave a false numbness every time he exhaled. Something about the orange and greens of the southwestern region was settling. It was so easy on his eyes that it brought him back down to Earth, as he examined how the plateaus stacked on top of each other until it was just a staircase into the tree line. They all cascaded like dominoes in a line, waiting to fall and bring it all down together. Constant thinking of what he did to Jamie hurt him more than Jamie could ever understand. The mixture of the moonlight and neon lights mixed together so peacefully, as it blended and shone down on the damage on Trevor's forearms. His raised scars matched the way his veins looked, and suddenly he found himself thinking about how many more he could add on.

He started at twenty-four, all counted for when his addiction began. Then at fifty when it sparked up pretty bad. Wash, rinse, repeat and it leads to one hundred and three scars on him. That didn't even count what faded. One hundred and three reasons why Jamie wasn't truly meant to be his boy, forever and always. There's no need in going back into his bedroom again. He wants to hear the birds and the revelry when the day finally comes. Someone can only come so close to the ends of the earth before dying, and being outside where society was, and not enclosed in his car or some little hotel room. Trevor found himself at peace, in an odd way. No deadline to get home. Just him, his mustang, and the road. Besides, his mom would be fine giving him his room back anyway. No worries there. Mostly, it was centered around Jamie. He told himself over and over again they would get back together, just to keep himself sane. Trevor fears so much of something that will never come; which is his younger days being done. They've only just started and he's Trevor, so his dog days of being childish and hasty would never end; fuck, it would be taken until he's run so far he's tripped into his grave. He's tried tripping himself enough, but now he knows why and where to put his feet. Trevor tied his shoes. He's done tripping. He's come close enough to the ends of the earth so many times, he knows what it feels like. Revisiting his younger days back in his mind, the western morning breeze carried his curls across his face until it settled and so did his hair. The auburn was coming back fiery, just like it should have. Jamie was the one who unintentionally dulled it, yet he was the one who lit fire to Trevor in their younger days. When the day is done, and the whispering trees call him home, he'd be begging for a savior to drag him out of the savage nights of twenty-something. When the night cuts cold, and Jamie is lying asleep in his bed, with Trevor almost three thousand miles away doing the same, he'd be begging for a savior to hold him through the sweet nights of twenty-something, too.

It's really hard to love a boy like Jamie, especially in his emerging prime. He had a fucked up sense of humor and reckless habits.

Good thing Trevor hated living easily.

•

Trevor could only wonder how Jamie was doing. He could text him and entertain Jamie, but he didn't. Besides, he would just get hooked on him again. Was he still thinking of him? Was he drinking of him? Was he out at a bar to cope and swallow down the feeling and suffering? Was he on his way to him? Was he going back to his hometown? Would he ever get over him? Would he ever find little pieces of Trevor, since he could never be totally gone?

Shit hurts to think about it. How Jamie is most likely on his way to his deathbed, and how Trevor is doing just fucking peachy. How Trevor is revving up his engine and driving through the night.

Jamie knows they were star-crossed lovers. Trevor hopes the stars would line up in their favor. Jamie knows they juxtapose. Trevor doesn't want to believe they juxtapose.

He wants to believe somewhere in his eyes, he would end up on Jamie's side. Trevor's turned into what he was bound to be, even though he used to be so great. Thinking back to the polaroids hung up above their bed, they looked like they were living in a movie. Too bad nothing on screen is real.

Even though the sky was spread out like a tablecloth, and the constellations were like old tatters and rips; Trevor wishes to be anywhere but there. His breathing only steadies when the sun rises behind him, casting a shadow onto the sunburnt concrete. He's been slipping out of his own body for a while this morning and watching his physical self from afar. Mostly the same way Jamie would watch society from the sidelines. Fuck, Jamie's back in his head again. Not that he left, just got louder. Being loud didn't suit Jamie. More of the brevity that was the opposite of Trevor's revelry. Driving to stay alive, and letting the days pass until the clear skies turn dark. Trevor would give anything to be back home, far, far away from his problems; but there's no escaping the prison of his own mind, so he just settles in and coasts.

The stealthiest yet deadliest part of all of it was how it gutted Trevor from the inside out, and he didn't feel a thing at all.

[butchniqabi]

Okay so for the past week I’ve been meaning to make a list of my current WIPs and I’ve been putting it off so...procrastinating no longer! Most of these stories I started sometime after my last story “A Voice Only Heard in the Dark” (which I posted 6 months ago oops). I didn’t feel like adding to my original WIP list bc it was long and annoyed me to look at. Anyways without further ado:

And How Do the Peasants Die? (Soft SciFi with little technology): Several years after being deposed, the region’s former emperor finds himself reaching the end of his life, living off the charity of a young woman. Though he has concealed his identity from her, he slowly begins to suspect that she knows more than she has let on. (The title is the alleged last words of Tolstoy. Themes center around: relationships between a country and its ruler(s), race and gender dynamics, atonement, and what forgiveness means)

Gethsemane: A Guide to Losing to the One You Love (SciFi, told in 2nd person): Your lover tells you that the planet’s orbital defenses have been shut down. She tells you that she is the one who did it. At the very least she has the decency to look guilty, ashamed of the devastation yet to come. You want to ask how long she had been thinking of this. Why would she deliver a death sentence to her own people? Did she even love you? Outside, satellites and space junk fall to the surface, lighting streaks of red across the sky. (Title refers to that place Isa (as) went to pray before he was...well you know. The title was originally “Sweeter Than Death, a Deception” before just becoming “A Guide to Losing to the One You Love” I heard Gethsemane mentioned on something I watched and, context aside, I loved the name so I wanted an excuse to use it hehe. Themes are: race and class dynamics, betrayal (in both the interpersonal and social sense), imperialism)

The Sea, The Sea, The Open Sea (SciFi): After sustaining heavy damage, the starship Love-In-Winter has lost most of her crew and is unable to use faster-than-light travel. The two survivors set to work repairing as much as they can, attempting to find a way to make it home faster than the projected 97 years. One of the women suggests that they make use of a highly experimental technology to ease them on their way home: a device that risks making them inhuman. (Title is the opening line to Barry Cornwall’s poem “The Sea”, because the sea is space and the vacuum of space is the sea, y’know? Themes revolve around: humanity and identity as a marginalized person, isolation, technology as a means of harm, recognition of the self through the other)

A Mote of Dust (Realistic Fiction, Soft SciFi): Qadira finds herself floundering after the death of her cat proves to be the proverbial straw which breaks the camel’s back. She goes through the motions of life: going to work, calling her dad, going to her appointments, taking her medication, and spending time with her alien spotting group (which devolved into an excuse to smoke weed and watch DS9). However, she slowly finds herself withdrawing from the world as her 28th birthday approaches. She begins to reckon with her own place on Earth and the unaddressed trauma of witnessing her mother’s abduction by extraterrestrials. (Title is from a Carl Sagan quote about Earth, “A mote of dust, suspended in a sunbeam.” There’s more but I’ll leave that to you to look up. Concept came about while looking into the Fermi Paradox: with the overwhelming evidence pointing to proof of intelligent life outside Earth, why haven’t we come in contact yet? Themes are: what we owe each other, mental health and mental illness, ableism, the “other”, and what makes an alien an alien?)

Special Dreams, in Which You Exist (SciFi, Tragedy): Mercedes Imperial was a figure that haunted the Nor-Am continent, credited with killing politicians, scientists, and wealthy patrons alike. Through discovering and stealing various technology, she was able to extend her life and cause disorder for roughly 200 years. Twenty years after she was caught and executed, archivists revive her by using her cyberorganetic data, hoping that they could interview her and learn the secrets of her resistance. To everyone’s surprise, Mercedes -the old Mercedes- installed a fail-safe in her data, effectively erasing every memory and experience she had past her 23rd birthday. The new Mercedes awakens to a world where she is both folk hero and boogeyman, her person already defined for her. Unsure of what is true, she must discover for herself who she used to be and determine what it means to exist. (Okay I know, I KNOWWWWW, that I’ve been writing this story on and off for 2 years but I’m on again so you’re going to get Mercedes Content damnit. Title is from Harlan Ellison’s “Delusion for a Dragon Slayer,” the quote itself is long so I’m not going to type it all out. Themes include: identity, stories as a form of oppression, stories as a form of idolatry, sacrifices for a greater cause, hauntings, all forms of American Bigotry, and strength through love/connection)

[silverdragon-imagines-blog]

Legend and Four test how much Wolfie will take their bs, from trying to get him to wear a collar, take a bath, or play fetch

[lol poor Twilight. No warnings other than people being little shits to each other.]

“Hey, wanna do something fun?”

Legend looked up from his journal to see the Smithy standing next to him, eyes more amber than hazel and filled with mischief. He closed the book, turning fully to face the other.

“What sort of fun are we talking about here.”

Four smiled, using only their head to gesture toward Wolfie, or rather, Twilight who was sitting by the firepit in wolf form. Legend raised an eyebrow.

“Wanna see how much nonsense our resident wolf friend can take?”

“Ya know what, why not.”

Their grins only grew as they discussed the plans for the future.

-

The wolf stuck around the next morning, which was excellent for the first part of the plan. Legend pulled out a bit of dark-colored ribbon that he had picked up from somewhere, knotting it into a circle with a pleased grin. He passed it off to Four during breakfast, the Smith practically beaming as he held it. Then, they began to set off for somewhere else.

Legend stood just behind Wolfie, watching him stay at Time’s side. Four was next to him, waiting for the perfect moment. It came soon enough, a stream crossed their path and they stopped to figure out if it was worth crossing here or to find a bridge. Before Wolfie could dart off to find Twilight, however, Four pounced.

There was a yip and then laughter as everyone turned to see Wolfie with a ribbon around his neck. A collar. He looked very annoyed as Four hugged him, giggling the entire time.

“I just thought that this way, we won’t lose him if he wanders off.”

Legend just watched as the few who knew about Wolfie stifled laughter, or tried to anyway. The rest were unashamed as they bent over in loud laughter.

Phase one, successful.

-

“I’m not sure what to use for the next part of the plan,” Four huffed, digging through his bag.

“You seriously don’t have anything to use?”

Four looked up at him, a slight annoyance making his eyes icy. 

“You’re the resident hoarder, why don’t you check for something?”

“I did the last thing. It’s your turn.”

Four grumbled, digging through his bag once again and withdrawing a bright yellow stick, the end curved slightly. He held it for a moment, then sighed.

“I swear, if this breaks, then I’m going to kill you,” Four turned to Legend with piercing blue-purple eyes.

Legend held up his hands placatingly. Of course, he had no control over whether the stick gets broken. Still, he led the way back towards camp where everyone was taking a break. Wolfie had shown up before the break, but had yet to leave, sitting next to Sky and Wild just watching them both as they talked. It was as perfect a chance as any. 

“Hey Wolfie, wanna play a game?”

The wolf perked up a bit at that, looking at Legend confused, tilting his head slightly. Wild and Sky also looked over, though Wild looked amused as he caught sight of the stick behind Legend’s back. The Veteran hero smirked, revealing the stick and waving it slightly.

“C’mon, let’s play fetch.”

Wolfie looked scandalized at the idea, or as much as a wolf could. Wild started giggling, causing Sky to laugh as well. The wolf huffed, looking away from Legend, but he wasn’t done. Legend threw the stick to land between the trio and himself, then leaned down slightly to clap his hands on his legs.

“Come on boy, get the stick.”

Wolfie glared at Legend, but then stood up, walking over to the stick to grab it in his mouth. He approached Legend, the hero smirking as he got close, only for Wolfie to dart away from him when Legend reached for it.

“What the hell?”

With the other two heroes cackling, Wolfie ran through camp, the veteran cursing as he chased after the smug wolf. Four watched on in a mix of amusement and annoyance as his cane was dragged around, thankful that Twilight had enough sense not to damage it. By the end of the chase, Legend was lying face down on the ground, Twilight still in wolf form standing over him panting yet very pleased. The cane was left on Legend’s back.

Four approached then, arms crossed and shaking his head.

“Guess that failed miserably.”

-

“This is the last try, so let’s make it big.”

“How on the goddesses’ names are we gonna pull this off?”

Legend and Four were scheming once again, taking care to be out of earshot of Twilight. A few of the others glanced at them curiously, but figured that prying wasn’t the way to go. At least, until Wild sidled up next to them, a wide grin on his face.

“So, I noticed that you were messing with Twi earlier. Need an extra hand?”

“Depends,” Four spoke, looking at Wild with a brow raised, “What did you have in mind?”

Wild’s grin just grew bigger.

-

It was several days until Wolfie made a reappearance, and they were setting up a small resting spot before they continued on. It was a pleasant day, the sun high in the sky. The perfect time to set up a prank.

There was a stream nearby, a few of the others choosing to cool off in the water. Four and Wild stayed behind with Wolfie sitting beside them. Legend watched on from the shoreline with Hyrule next to him. Any minute now.

“Hey, when’s the last time Wolfie had a bath?” Four asked, feigning innocence when said wolf looked up at him with annoyance. 

“That’s a good question. I assumed he bathed himself but,” Wild failed to hide a grin as he leaned closer to him, “might be worth it to try and give him one before we set out.”

Wolfie jumped to his feet, backing away and growling slightly as the two heroes approached him with matching grins. Until his back collided with another person. He looked up to see Time, a mischievous grin on his face.

“That sounds like an excellent idea.”

Wolfie yelped as he was picked up, Time holding him so his front and back legs were dangling as the elder hero had his arms under Wolfie’s torso and back end. Wolfie whined as Time followed the other two heroes toward the stream, struggling slightly. Laughter was all around them as Time waded to a deeper part of the stream and dropped the poor wolf-hero in. 

It wasn’t long until Wolfie paddled away from the other heroes, getting onto dry land and growling back at them. He was dripping as he walked over to everyone’s bags, and with a self-satisfied noise, shook himself off right over everyone’s stuff. Cries of outrage met his ears, but he simply ran away from their attempts to catch him, laughing internally at his revenge.