#without completely losing my mind i at least need to kind of feel like i'm talking to an actual human being

[shipmansflannels]

the yellowjackets with a younger s/o...

hey, I'm back! it didn't take me long, right? it must be because I have too many things to write on this blog, finally (and I have relatively enough time to organize my ideas for now). so I thought, I made a headcannon of the young yellowjackets, but I might as well make the adult survivors, right? anyway, maybe this is also a sign to say that I will "moderately" write stories with the adult versions, too. who cheered? anyway, without further ado, let's go! thanks for the likes on the first post, I'm glad you liked it! enjoy! sorry for any grammatical or coherence errors, english is not my first language and I'm trying to improve!

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dating a younger person with the yellowjackets women...

shauna shipman.

okay, it's canonical that shauna would have no problem being in a relationship with someone younger.

I mean, even after adam, I think she would be willing to try.

it would be a lot easier in her mind, because dating someone younger means being able to reconnect with callie more easily too.

in shauna's mind, the two of you would be best friends based on your approximate age, regardless of how old you were.

now in terms of dating shauna, i think she would inevitably be an easy going person, to a certain extent.

overprotective as hell, of course, because she's lost so many people she loves over time (and it's become an incurable trauma in her life), that she can't bear to lose you.

she would also cook for you (rabbit meat inserted) all the time, especially if you felt like eating something special.

oh yes, the weekends would have to include callie with you, which is actually not a problem. at least not for you.

I feel like shauna hasn't been, since she was a teenager, someone who would be involved in loud parties or anything like that, so probably the perfect date for her would be watching a movie at home, wrapped in blankets with you, popcorn and soda and a solitude considerable enough for you to kiss, exchange affection and even make out (or have sex) without anyone to get in the way.

natalie scatorccio.

natalie, like shauna, would also have no problem dating someone younger.

since her life has always been full of risks and she was never very afraid of taking most of them, I honestly think that age never made much of a difference to her, at least not after middle age.

but to be honest, dating natalie comes with a combo of even bigger problems and risks that you wouldn't be able to deal with if you didn't love her so much.

I see natalie completely using her s/o as an outlet, or a shield. after rehab, you would be like a kind of warning for her to control herself.

not that it wouldn't also include (if you're a smoker) the two of you smoking in your spare time when you're bored.

natalie would be the kind of girlfriend you could have any conversation in the world with, sober or not. she probably has and gained enough empathy to listen to you and give you accurate advice on how to live your life.

making out a lot and having sex in unusual places also counts.

in my head, despite everything, natalie is the master of serving affection. spooning with her is the best whenever you need it.

she would do anything for you. everything really. anything.

she would be able to get into a fight for you. and risking her own life as well.

lottie matthews.

number one defender of the thesis: "age is just a number".

lottie is literally the personification of quality time and acts of service.

much because of her lonely life, her traumatic and confusing teenage years and the relationships she maintained with people over time, lottie would probably never want you to lack for anything, so any opportunity she has to be with you, she will be, even on her worst days.

arts and crafts dates with her when she is not taking care of camp green pine. you spend hours enjoying each other's company, and the whole world falls silent.

extremely overprotective of you too. just the thought of losing you because of her own insecurities leaves lottie haunted for weeks if she stops to think about it.

she is the ideal companion for anxiety and panic attacks.

she will most likely use the techniques she learned over time with you. if they work, that's another matter. (they always work because in the end it was never about lottie's gift, it was about her company).

a little submissive, a little dominant during sex. lottie is probably the typical "am I hurting you?" at the right time and even if you insist no, she will ask again just to be sure.

she's also the master spooner (I literally see you two fighting over who's going to be the big spoon every night).

taissa turner.

ok, public life has always been a problem for taissa.

but when she's with you, she's able to forget about it for a few minutes.

despite all this freedom, taissa never lets you go out unaccompanied (without a bodyguard) or lets you read the headlines or see the commercials about her first, for fear of any criticism about your age difference.

but more than anything, it's you she turns to when the stress finally gets to her on the worst days.

I see her making any effort for you, and I see her trying to keep a fine line between you and her old life too.

this includes your relationship with sammy, which, in fact, has always been the best possible, and her friendly relationship with simone as well. taissa knows that she cannot take her son out of her ex-wife's life and, even so, she makes a point of including you in family programs with him.

she will literally spend it all on you. anything you ask for, even with a high amount of money, she will buy.

it's probably a way of apologizing about her sleepwalking and her traumas making her even remotely distant from you for some time.

like I said, you're the one she looks for when crises end up attacking her mental health. she won't sleep if you're not safe in bed with her and she makes a point of being snuggled in her arms so she doesn't have any sleepwalking attacks in the middle of the night.

dates with her are always in fancy places, but taissa doesn't care about them that much.

anniversaries, yes, she always takes you to dinner at a fancy restaurant.

but, on her days off, she would easily choose to just spend time with you watching a stupid series or a cliché movie while you sleep cuddling in the middle of it.

sex always, sex anywhere, sex on any occasion. you will never miss this, you can be sure.

van palmer.

this nerdy woman deserves the world and a significant other who doesn't know half of her references.

you two are a match made in heaven, for sure.

van wouldn't waste time trying to get you to watch all the movies that were popular in her time. and she would use your ability to tinker with technology for the video store whenever necessary.

this woman is literally the embodiment of girlfriend material.

quality time, acts of service, words of affirmation, she has mastered every love language in existence, you bet.

van will always cook for you. there are rare nights when she lets you make dinner or even order any junk food.

she would also stop whatever she was doing so she could cuddle with you whenever you needed her.

dates with van are always at the cinema, or at an amusement park, or, when she is a little less in debt, at a tourist spot around the world that you would mention that you want to see.

she has good enough memory to remember them all.

the sex is always good, always affectionate, and every now and then, when she's not tired, you'd try a quickie in the bedroom for just a little while, until you feel satisfied.

hopeless romantic until the end of time.

misty quigley.

a walking red flag, misty would probably treat a relationship with someone younger as if it were a great adventure.

well, if you like crazy women, misty is your ideal partner.

she has a bit of a misconception about taking care of you and keeping you safe, so every now and then she'll make a point of checking your calendar and trying to monitor meetings with people in your circle, just to make sure there's no problem.

but this is also a good thing because, if there is a specific date or specific problem, she will remember it and make everyone special, in her own way.

anyway, but she's a good girlfriend too, aside from the weirdness. she has everything under control, she is attentive to you and makes a point of making your day better if it is bad.

dates with her don't need much. If it's in a cafe relaxing and talking about her day, if it's watching crime series or chatting with her about citizen detectives, she'll be happy.

sex is also good, to be honest. I see misty as the roleplay girl, so if she's in the mood to roleplay with you, you can be sure she'll do it. from weirdest to sexiest, it also depends on her day.

she achieved the feat of making a young person like a bird and want to have a bird at home. she is, at the moment, the only one of them to be able to do this masterfully.

[lazycats-stuff]

Could I request a Bruce Wayne x son reader(plus batboys if possible) where bruce finds out reader is his bio son and has been under the care of another justice league member(if possible I’d prefer hal Jordan with reader also being a green lantern and Hal’s sidekick) his whole (or at least most of) life (could you also include hal pettily reminding Bruce that reader maybe his bio kid but he is a green lantern not a bat?)

Oh shit... Bruce is going to lose his mind. I hope I made the scene petty enough.

Summary: (Y/N) is a Green Lantern. That's what Hal Jordan says. In reality, he is a Bat and Bruce has something to say about it.

Warnings: Hal Jordan is petty, Bruce wants his son, Hal is like nope, it's up to (Y/N).

Bruce noticed something about (Y/N) Jordan, the son of Green Lantern. He has seen him without the mask and he noticed some similarities between the boy and himself. There were physical similarities, but also personality similarities.

Bruce was reminded of one girl he had an adventure with over a decade ago. He didn't think much for a couple of months, but a mission changed his mind. (Y/N) joined his dad on a mission with Batman.

Hal thought that the (Y/N) could benefit from learning from Batman. Everyone could learn something from Batman. Hal would rather die than admit that out loud, but he had respect for Batman.

(Y/N) was excited to go on a mission with Batman. He always found the man interesting and extremely badass. But he was also kind of scared of him, especially when he was completely calm, but you could tell that he was pissed beyond belief.

Where the mission went wrong was that (Y/N) got injured by Deathstroke. It seemed that Deathstroke was tasked to kill (Y/N). Who wanted Hal's son, well, Bruce's son dead?

They didn't know, Bruce promised to look into it. Hal was thankful for this and it allowed him to take care of his son. Hal knew that biologically speaking (Y/N) wasn't his son, but he didn't mind it. His partner at the time warned him and he didn't mind.

He loved (Y/N) and nothing would change it.

Well, that was until Bruce ran (Y/N)'s DNA through their database by complete accident. He was shocked when his DNA was a match. Oh no. He tried the results once more. A match again.

He looked into (Y/N) in more detail. That''s why he was so similar. His mother was the one Bruce was with over a decade ago. What the hell? Now, how is he going to break this to Hal?

He wanted his son to live with him, but he knew that (Y/N) was connected to Hal. Oh no. There was this problem. He needs to talk to Hal as soon as possible.

Bruce had to reign his emotions in when talking to Hal. He has called him into a private room in the HQ, thankfully, Superman was nowhere to be found and that was something he was happy with. Bruce didn't want anybody else to hear this.

He didn't know how well this could go. Hal is very protective of his son and who know how he would take the news.

" So Batman, what did you want to talk about? " Hal asked, sitting down.

" I wanted to talk about (Y/N). "

That got Hal's focus up to the highest level. " What about him? "

" I was looking into why Deathstroke would kill him. I must have put his DNA through the system and it came back as a match. To mine. " Bruce finished up and Hal just nodded.

" I know my then partner was pregnant. I know (Y/N) isn't mine, but I love him none the less. "

" I know that. But I want him to live with me. " Hal wanted to laugh, say that it's a joke, but Bruce was dead serious.

" Not happening. "

" Lantern, I know you are mad, but he is my son. He is something that you guys would call a bat. He belongs with me. I feel bad for not being in his life. "

" Well, Bruce, here is a fun fact. He is a Green Lantern and not a Bat. Just because your adventures don't tell you they are pregnant is not my concern. "

" I want to tell (Y/N) at least. " Bruce tried, but Hal raised his arm up to stop him.

" No. As far as (Y/N) is concerned, I'm his dad. Although I think he is suspecting it now. And if he wants to know, I will tell him. If you think about telling him, I will end you. " Hal threatened with a smile and Bruce just nodded.

Hal would most definitely make sure of that threat. " Good. And don't forget. He is a Green Lantern and not a Bat. " Hal reminded before leaving the room, leaving Bruce alone.

Now he wants to just cuddle with (Y/N). Hal shook his head as he left. (Y/N) is his son and no biology will change that.

[willowser]

now i wake up by your side—

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 2.8k+

tags: u.a. college au, canon-compliant, reader has a telekinesis/telepathic quirk, references (and potential spoilers) for the current arc in the manga, angst, a lot of secret hidden feelies

tysm to @alrightberries for giving me the opportunity to bring this lil thought of yours to life 🥺 your patience and understanding during the time it took me to write this is so appreciated it, and tbh you're the reason i'm even still here right now LOL you're so sweet, and i hold your kindness so close to my heart. i wish i could convey how much it means to me. i hope i did this even a lil justice !! happy birthday dear !!!! 🥺🩷✨️

Sero dreams of watching the sunrise on top of the Roppongi Observatory.

It’s a beautiful sight, one you’ve never seen with your own eyes, but you soak in the warmth flushing across his cheeks and the anticipated break of morning through the clouds. When he takes in a hefty breath, you feel the spring chill sting inside his chest, crisp and clear, like it’s you breathing instead of him, and it’s almost comforting enough to lull you to sleep, too.

But a clay pot shattering against a nearby bench has your eyes springing open, ripped from the haven you’d been lost to. 

You have to blink several times in order to fight through the exhaustion wearing you thin, but the evening returns to you in small, bleary doses. It’s the middle of the night—or at least it was when you’d first wandered out to the training field, and you can’t be sure how many hours have passed since then. Across the yard, you’ve successfully managed to carry four pots from the garden plot near the entrance all the way to your feet with your Quirk— but number five sits in pieces in the grass.

You’ll have to clean that up by morning or Eraser will make you run laps until you puke. Again.

Kirishima flits through your mind in a suit and tie: not as a Hero, but a spy of some kind, chasing down men with masks covering their faces and wielding a gun that looks odd in his hands, even in his own dream. Despite being back in the dorms, stories up and near the end of the hall, you can see it—hear him yelling out at the criminal to stop, feel the thud of the ground under his feet. His own determination blares through you like a freight train, as strong and damning as he is, and you fight to force yourself back inside your own shoes as you try to carry another pot.

Recovery Girl used to tell you that you did this to yourself: all your worry about losing sleep psyching yourself out of it completely, chasing it away before it even had the chance. When everyone is getting ready for bed, heading out of the common room and hitting the showers, you can feel that suspense building; what will come across tonight while everyone dreams? Fantasies? Or nightmares?

During the day it’s easier to drown out the foot-traffic of everyone’s thoughts—you do it without trying, now—but your brain needs rest, too. Letting go of control for even a second, just to get some shut eye is—

Something frightening is outlined in your peripheral vision, the dash of a pale shape you aren’t able to discern before it’s gone. The air turns metallic and stale and you can hear water sloshing, though you’re nowhere near the pools. All your blood rushes in your ears and your fingers curl, like you’re gripping your seat—gripping the edge of the couch in the common room, where you’d been sitting beside Mina when Kaminari put on that horror movie. The one with the—

“The hell are you doin’?”

Your eyes snap open for the hundredth time that night—show over, credits rolling—and it’s Bakugou. Standing only feet away from the new set of clay shards of your failure, tangible and real and staring at you with an intensity not even your dreams could mimic.

You blink, eyes stinging and heavy. You must look insane. “Oh, hey,” the voice that comes out of you is far-away, chartered off to distant lands, and he notices immediately, focus razor-sharp despite how late it is. “What did you say?”

Bakugou wrinkles his nose, like he’s offended at having to repeat himself. “I said, what the hell are you doin’? It’s nearly 2 in the morning and you’re out here throwin’ shit around in your fuckin’ pajamas.”

Almost on cue, the breeze brushes past your legs, chilly enough to have you shivering, and you peek down at them as if you don’t know what they look like. The sweater you’re wearing is from second year and the U.A. logo is half-worn off, but it’s the comfiest thing you own and if you’re going to be plagued all night by the forced intimacy of your classmates’ dreams—you at least want to be cozy.

When you look back up at him, Bakugou is pointedly looking away, taking interest in something other than your wimpy state of dress. 

It dawns on you then that he’s out here, too, in sweats and a simple back sweatshirt, hair a messy, golden halo in the pale, buzzing field lights. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think his face was a little rosy, but—maybe you’re seeing things.

Still. Being out and away from everyone, alone with Bakugou, makes your stomach tighten horribly. Like you’ve done too many sit-ups.

You try to brush off your sudden bout of shyness, because you know he’ll clock that in no time, too. “Well, I could ask you the same thing.” At the raise of your eyebrows, he only tchs, and casts you a filthy look. “But I think maybe I’ll just mind my own business.”

The face he makes is so awful and hot-blooded that you laugh, truly and earnestly, enough that a headache pulses to life. You wince, and the stream of pain that shoots down the middle of your skull brings back that image of Kirishima’s action-thriller: blood and knives, the sound of skin on skin, a fist against cheekbones, the ugly snap of breaking—

“Oi.”

Bakugou is closer than before, when you’re grounded back inside yourself. At least no pots have been broken this time. Less to clean up.

“Sorry,” you shoot him an apologetic smile that you know he must hate. “It’s just so—” your hand feels like it’s made of lead, but you drag it up to massage slow circles into your temple, trying not to grit your teeth and worsen the pounding in your head. “So loud sometimes.”

He’s silent until the pain ebbs out, and when you can blink without flinching, you peek up to catch how intently he’s watching your face. In the night like this, his eyelashes seem darker, longer, a kind of haunting beauty you would dream about, if you could get some sleep.

Again, you think of Kaminari’s horror movie, legs pressed against Mina’s under the heavy comforter she’d brought down from her room. It’s warm, the kind of pink, fluffy thing you’d imagine a girl like her to have—but it didn’t stop you from shivering every time you chanced a glance at Bakugou and found him already staring back.

The heat in your cheeks spreads to the back of your neck, so immediate that you think you might start sweating. “Dreams and stuff,” you murmur, by way of an explanation, “nightmares, sometimes.”

Bakugou's frown deepens, the muscle in his jaw tightening once as he grits his teeth. “What, you can just…hear that shit all night?”

“Usually,” you shrug, “It just comes in, you know? And I—” you steal another glance at him, aware, then, of just how intrusive you might sound. The veil of privacy is thin between you and others, and they don't often like being reminded of that. “Not for you, though. I don't—I don't get anything from you.”

And it's true, frustratingly enough. Not that you are ever intentionally peeking into anyone's head, but things slip through, occasionally—sudden reactions, wild, loose trains of thought. 

Bakugou's face twists, regardless, and you're reminded of all the times you've been forced to spar together, at Eraser's behest. One of the smartest in your class, quick on his feet and never without a plan; every time you've managed to get a hand on Bakugou, there's been nothing but a sea-shore calm.

It's hard to do and, at this point in your life, you've seen a thousand people try it—but he's the only one that's ever succeeded in keeping you at bay.

Nothing in his expression changes, but all your nerves spread to your voice until it shakes. “You're—I don't look in there, of course, but it's—you've always been…” Bakugou is terrible at taking compliments, you know that, almost as bad as you are at giving them. “Pretty, I guess.”

Awful, at giving them.

Embarrassment floods him, suddenly stained pink as he curls into himself. “Piss off,” he barks, and though he’s scowling at you in what must be disgust—you can’t help but to smile at how aggressively bashful he is.

You almost get the guts to make matters worse, just because you can. Admit how handsome you’ve come to find him, after the last few years, until his face is steaming in the sweet nighttime chill; the kind of intimacy you wouldn’t mind dreaming about again and again.

The absence of his thoughts are a comfort for your tired mind, has all the harsh edges of night fading into something a little easier to swallow, to breathe in. You know he does it on purpose as a strictly defensive move, but you almost want to thank him. For the quiet.

You don’t know if it’s from you or him, but when you reach a hand up to hover near his temple, the air buzzes between you, gently. Charged with that same thing that had you unable to look away from him in the common room only days ago. “In here, I mean,” you murmur, and the smile you pull on feels lame, but it’s as genuine as ever. “I don’t know, I don’t know how you do it. But it’s…nice.”

You’ve seen him die a thousand times.

Mostly in Midoriya’s dreams, sometimes in Eraser’s when he nods off during last period, but that horror—like many others, from that day—stains you all. When dinner is put away and showers are finished and the lights go out and the flood gates open, someone almost always relives the ugliness of it all; you’re more familiar with that moment than you are with any of your own.

Here and now, you close your eyes and see Jirou staring back at you, face beautiful and full of hope. You see Kirishima’s torn suit jacket and the blood on his cheek and the empty gun in his hand, the most dedicated secret agent. Aoyama is dreaming of his mother, something warm that makes you feel like you’re dazzling, too.

And yet—Bakugou is silent. Even right in front of you. Even after everything.

If anyone deserves the peace and quiet, you suppose it ought to be him.

“When’s the last time you got any sleep?”

You blink until his blurry figure is clear, and it’s like you can physically feel whatever energy you had left seeping from your body at the mere mention of sleep. “Maybe a morning or two ago,” you tell him truthfully, “I usually pass out after a few rounds of ‘throwin’ shit around’.”

Bakugou only stares at you as he digests the words, and once he’s gotten them down, he shakes his head before looking out over the mess you’ve made of the training field. With his head turned like this, you can take in the full weight of his scar—the one that’s wide and still baby-pink across his cheek. 

You almost get the guts to tell him he’s handsome. Almost.

Frustration is evident on his face when he looks back at you, but his voice comes out softer than you expect, like he's struggling to get out any words at all. “Can’t keep doin’ this,” he chastises. “Can’t be a Hero if you’re half asleep all the time. Gotta figure this shit out.”

“I am,” you give a lazy wave to your pots, “What’s wrong with this solution?”

“It's ass.”

“Alright, you have any better ideas, pretty boy?”

He bristles, visibly enough to have you snickering, and—you’re not sure what you expect of him; to continue his griping or leave you to your own devices, building his walls up high as he always does. Ever the fighter, ever the protector; maybe it’s a good thing, you tell yourself, because you’re weak like this and one of you needs to be thinking straight.

Despite his flush, there’s a playfulness to his grouchy expression, his raspy tone—and it has you leaning too far into things you don’t know how to name.

You never know what to expect of him.

There’s the slightest brush of skin against the back of your hand, and when you drop your eyes to the slowly-dwindling space between you—the rough pads of his fingers are touching you, gently. Softly enough to be the breeze, if it weren’t so warm.

You’re afraid to look at him, suddenly, like it will break whatever spell the night is casting over both of you; instead you press your lips together to stop their wobbling and the smile fighting to give you away. You’re waiting for that sea-shore calm, that quiet comfort, whatever it is he’s trying to offer you, strangely enough, in this moment. When you turn your hand over to catch his, the air buzzes again and the blood rushes in your ears.

You focus and—all you can see is your own face staring back at you. In a flash, like he’s cycling through his cards in a hurry, trying to find the best one.

You, across the arena during the entrance exam. You, in the locker room before the Sport's Festival. You, sitting in the common room during Christmas. You, ruined with tears and your own blood and covered in grime, on the darkest day of your life.

You, now. On the field in the stale light, prettier than you think you must look, for being so exhausted, the lines of your smile deep as you grin up at him.

—And then there's nothing.

The absence of noise is louder than anything. A stark, white silence that cuts through; a different world trickling away. A single touch and a little focus is all it takes to take root inside someone’s head and that’s always felt like a weapon, but now it feels like coming inside from a snowstorm, relief shuddering down your spine. Everyone else's fears and nerves and heartaches dissolve until they’re only a bitter taste at the back of your throat. Something far, far behind you

There’s just Bakugou. A strong silence that feels impenetrable, invulnerable to the outside. The steady beat of his heart is comforting in a way you didn’t realize it would be, has that bloody, dead-eyed image of him shifting into something else: another moment in Midoriya’s memories, of his silhouette standing in the sun, tall and fierce and alive.

Returned. Here and now with you, after numerous, unforeseen turns of events. You wonder if the ease surrounding you is his own, something else he’s sharing—or if this is just how it feels to be with him after so long. Maybe in the past it was different—you know it was; during the entrance exam, during the Sport’s Festival—but now you feel more relaxed than you ever have. A reminder that, no matter how dark the nights get, the sun is only just beyond the horizon. 

Returned, comforting and quiet.

(You won't know this until much later, but your hand will go slack in Katsuki's and his fingers will tighten around your own because he's not ready to let go yet. When your knees buckle, he'll already be there, awkwardly holding you up against his shoulder as his face flames and his eyes dart around the empty field, checking for any shitty snoops.

Ears is always up damn late, too, and there's a decent chance he'd get caught trying to haul you back to your room on the third fuckin’ floor, so there's really no better option than to gently lower you both to the grass. After a couple of minutes with no movement, the field lights will shut off and only the distant glow of the stars will remain.)

(You won't know this until much later, but Katsuki will arrange the both of you so that your head isn't slumped on the hard ground, but resting on the plush of his bicep, an arm around your shoulders so that the warmth can be shared between you both. His heart will pound hard enough in his chest to be worrisome, and every time you shuffle and scoot closer to him and nudge your nose into his sweater—Katsuki will fight to stay open and true, only honest with you in this wordless way.)

(You won't know this until the sun rises high behind your lids and your bones ache and he’s shown you things he could never say, but it's the best sleep you think you've ever gotten. With him, under the stars, surrounded by his calm and his constant.)

(You won't remember this but in your dream—your real dream, born from with solace Katsuki offers you—the morning will rise and settle in and he'll walk you back to your room despite the stares and in the elevator when you're alone, his lips will touch yours and you'll feel his  heart in your chest and his nerves in your stomach and his fear and relief all in one.)

(And right away, when you wake up, you'll finally have a name for this thing that's been blooming between you both for as long as you can remember—and he will, too.)

[creedslove]

DAVE YORK AND YOUR PREGNANCY - HEADCANONS

Dave York x f!reader

A/N: hi besties! I'm glad to see you all coming down to ask box to talk about Dave because honestly, I think the world needs to recognize more of murder daddy and our Dave York apologists™ community needs to grow! Also, I sort of kept this headcanon here in my mind and I've also had a bug craving of female rivalry with our favorite person to hate: Carol, hehehe enjoy 😉

• it's not a secret to anyone the whole reason why Dave married Carol was because she got pregnant in the first place; they didn't love each other that much, but their relationship wasn't all bad, so when she showed up knocked up it was only the logical step to jump into marriage

• and it was already in the early stages of the pregnancy, Dave noticed the task wasn't going to be as easy as he thought it would, or more like it, it would be as easy to be around Carol as he thought it would. Quite the opposite, she managed to show her true colors as soon as it finally sank in she was indeed pregnant

• their relationship wasn't the best thing that'd ever happened to either of them, but at least they had an active social life, had a decent sexual life and other stuff going on, things weren't always miserable, but whatever kind of bond that could exist between them was suddenly gone, as she did everything in her power to keep Dave away from her

• first of all, all she would complain was about being nauseous, which is common for pregnant women Dave knew, he wasn't a man cave after all, although it started to annoy the hell outta him the fact she claimed to feel sick at the smell of his perfume, his aftershave, his shampoo, his clothes and eventually himself

• and then, it started with the fact that whenever he put his hands on her, she couldn't even hide his grossed out she was; she simply didn't want to feel him, she didn't want him cooking her food and whenever she had an outburst for gaining weight or looking bigger, she would cry, scream, accuse and pick fights blaming it on him for making her body

• and as the pregnancy progressed, so did this situation, it was so stressful and annoying, the way she would just waste money on things, complaining about cute, heartfelt presents she got because she said her baby didn't need anything given to them, she also complained about whatever Dave bought, it was never correct: it was either too pink or not pink enough and so on

• by the time their daughter was born, Dave was already exhausted, and even if he loved her with all his heart, it wasn't what he expected from fatherhood, deep down he feared she would be just like her mom one day - sad news, she turned out exactly like Carol

• and Dave carried on his marriage without the same flame, he was disappointed in the person he married, and when his second girl came along, the experience wasn't any better, but there wasn't anything he couldn't do about it

• so when Dave got divorced and married you, things were so different, he enjoyed how light and gentle your marriage truly was; he loved the good dynamics you both had; how caring and affectionate you were towards each other, how fun days were without a heavy routine, just doing as you pleased and spending time with each other

• things were so good between the two of you, and as Dave finally learned how to sort of balance the distance from his daughters - you still found him in his office staring at pictures of them as toddlers during special holidays at the same time he sighed whenever he tried calling or texting them and was completely ignored it just replied with dry, annoyed texts, was when you found out you were pregnant

• Dave was a mix of feelings, he knew it was a possibility, after all you two weren't so careful with preventing it, but he couldn't help feeling his heart drop, just to imagine he would lose that close side of your relationship because of his experiences as a father and he was so scared about resenting his baby over it, as much as he tried reminding himself he wasn't like his mother at all

• so when you came to him and told about your suspicions, he was supportive, but you could tell he was holding himself back, and knowing about his marriage background and the real drama he often went on with Molly and Alice, you could have a good picture of how complicated things were

• so he drove you to the drugstore, he bought tests next to you and he waited by your side until you got the results - positive, of course - the next day, he drove you to the clinic and waited as you went through every single exam that could attest if you were indeed expecting

• and as much as he held you, kissed you and showed happiness, you still saw something was off, deep in down, Dave's biggest fear was that he was going to lose you to the baby, because Carol wasn't a great partner but whatever he had with her, was gone, and he couldn't face the same happening between the two of you

• you then, gave him some time and space, knowing he had a mission coming in the next few days, you really thought of asking him not to go, but you knew you couldn't actually do it, so you just wished him a nice and safe trip and reminded him how much you loved him

• and once Dave came back was when he realized that perhaps things weren't going to be lost between the two of you, because yeah, he called every single day to check up on you and the baby, and he knew you'd started your nausea/hunger/sleepy phase so he figured once he got home, you would star drifting apart from him

• but much to his surprise, you didn't, quite the opposite: you practically jumped on him, because you wanted to hug and hold Dave in your arms, you wanted to feel his warmth and weight, and god, his scent simply drove you insane with desire and satisfaction

• you complimented his cologne, his shampoo, the scent of his clothes, soap, you name it... you just loved everything and you loved burying your face into his neck and sniffing him

• his pancakes were also to die for: it didn't matter if he made them sweet or tried different salty recipes, if it was breakfast or just breakfast for dinner, you loved spending time with him and appreciating his food, and you also thanked him for adding fruits and many other healthy things into your diet

• your sex life also improved, with differences of course, mostly, Dave wouldn't be so rough, he was more romantic and soft towards you and there was no stress: you wanted him as much as he wanted you, the hormones, the passion, the romance was all in synch and even if you eventually got a little insecure about your body changes, there weren't cries, arguments, all it took the two of you was just some reassurance from Dave's side, the way he would sometimes hold you in front of a mirror and grab your lotion and spread all over your skin, or how he would nuzzled your neck and whisper into your ear how sexy you were becoming or even when he would bury himself between your thighs until you couldn't handle it anymore, was enough to settle things

• over the course of your pregnancy, Dave realized your bond was stronger than never, because you two were very much in love, you were expecting a child Dave already loved so much without the fear of this baby growing into an obnoxious child like it happened before

• the fact he was going to have a little boy after two girls was also pretty exciting for him, as he figured it would be somehow easier and he kind of had hopes to fix his own traumas by being a kind father to a boy, knowing what a boy needed as growing up

• he loved how happy and careful you were with everything you got as a gift for the baby: baby shoes, clothes, onesies, you were so thankful for people's kindness to gift your baby, never trash-talking anything you got and also thanking Dave for the gifts

• he realized you were both more united, not working against each other with a baby in the middle, but instead, working together in order to raise that precious little thing you two loved so much and it showed him a real meaning of family to him

• you two were meant to be, your baby was loved by the two of you with all your hearts and you couldn't want another life, things were good and the Yorks were finally happy the way they deserved to be ❤️

____

[quantum1mmortality]

Could I request kung lao who can't take his eyes off from!reader? Like she has thick thighs and tits that are super hard to cover. I'm totally not self projecting here👀 thanks!!!!!

Girl the way I relate to you so hard 😭 these triple D's make my life so much worse I swear

Tw/cw: Kung Lao being extremely horny, kind of pre established relationship??? Idk, Liu Kang being able to hear his horny thoughts and getting fed up with it, Raidens fed up with it too tho DW, Bi Han is also a simp for reader but Kung Lao is cooler, readers THICCC in the tits and thighs department, cursing, takes place before Bi Han became grandmaster because we all know he wouldn't let a woman NEAR the Lin Kuei

Not proofread

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I said this once and I'll say it again, Kung Lao is a certified thigh man. Any thighs, small, big, muscular, soft n squishy, he loves them all.

So when you showed up as a new Lin Kuei recruit member, much to the dismay of Bi Han, Kung Lao was head over heels for you.

You needed to get a uniform tailored specifically for you. Considering you were one of the first female recruits, you couldn't take a man's uniform, according to Bi Han, at least. Not only that, but you needed a uniform to cover up.. well, everything. You had incredibly thiccc thighs and awfully big breasts, both being very hard to cover up.

You were able to persuade Bi Han to make you a uniform that had a turtle neck long sleeve shirt with bell bottom jeans (that's what I'd want at least smh). Bi Han was quick to have someone get your measurements as well as making the actual uniform.

Truth be told, you could tell Bi Han had a small soft spot for you. Which is why he was always more than happy to help you out. When you finally got your uniform, you were confused as to why it was so tight if you got your measurements taken. It had hugged every curve you had perfectly and made your thighs and bust accentuated.

Other than the fact it was revealing without having anything showing, you enjoyed your new uniform and wore it out to train. You could feel your colleagues eyes on you, especially Kung Laos. God did he love how your thighs looked in your new uniform, he couldn't take his eyes off of you.

He'd often times try and spar you, being completely mesmerized by the way your breasts would move in your uniform. He'd purposefully lose that way he could rematch you.

Other times he'd just stare. The other men training would too, but they had the decency to at least look away after a few seconds. Not Kung Lao though. He'd stare at your body for minutes at a time. Raiden would have to genuinely slap him before he got the hint.

He wasn't objectifying you, or at least, not on purpose. He genuinely did have a lot of respect for you as a fighter, he just couldn't help but think about you in the most perverted ways possible.

If you guys were ever next to each other, whether it be at dinner, during training, or something else, he'd spare small glances at you. He'd take in every part of you, your luscious hair, eyelashes, a side profile he deemed perfect.

He'd stare at your lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss them, touch them, have them wrapped around his cock. Same with your thighs and breasts, he'd wonder what it would be like to touch them, to kiss them, make small hickeys on them. He'd love to know what they'd look like bare, or maybe with his cum painted on them.

Sometimes Liu Kang would just look him dead in the eyes while he's thinking about these perverted things and give him the stankest look. Like he'd look at him like a disappointed father.

Raiden is also getting fed up with how much he talks about you but never WITH you. Raiden thought you were gorgeous, both mind and body, and he just wanted what was best for his friend. That, however, did not include Kung Laos endless rambling about you. He had gotten so sick of it that he ended up confessing for him.

Raiden waited until you were alone to approach you. You guys were pretty good friends, so this wasn't out of the ordinary. He'd mentioned Kung Lao once and could see how your eyes lit up at the thought of him. He told you about how he had the biggest crush on you and set you guys up on a date.

Kung Lao wasn't thrilled to find out Raiden told you for him. He wasn't happy about it at all actually, but he'll be damned if he missed this opportunity with you.

The amount of times he's fucked his hands, or wrapped a pillow around his cock just to simulate what you could feel like was too many times to count. The date was at a fancy restaurant, he had picked you up and you were wearing a low cut dress that left nothing to the imagination. You had to keep pulling the dress down because of how often it rode up your thighs, and every time you did, Kung Lao felt like he was in heaven.

You were so beautiful to him, and finding out more about you as a person just made him even more attracted to you. He'd asked you so much about yourself that by the end of the night you'd known nothing about him. So when you asked him for another date, he was ecstatic.

He absolutely went home and masturbated so much that night he felt like his dick was gonna fall off. He's probably into that tho

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

A/n: do you guys think Kung Laos into drinking breast milk. I do. I think he'd be all up in those titties fr

[tevanavernus]

You Look So Pretty, Pretty Like The Sun - Chapter 11

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10

link to ao3: chapter 11

Buck really liked Tommy. Adored him, actually—more than anyone he'd ever dated. Had deeper feelings for the man than he was ready to fully admit. But if Tommy woke him up one more time, Buck was pretty sure he was going to strangle him.

When Buck said he could sleep for a week straight he wasn't kidding. His body was fully exhausted and falling into the bed felt like heaven. Having Tommy beside only added to the bliss. Or so he thought.

Buck's blissful sleep didn't last nearly long enough for him to enjoy it. In fact, every-time he was drifting off into that deep, glorious sleep, Tommy seemed to sense it and shook him awake to check on his concussion. It was sweet, of course—Tommy caring about him. But Buck? He was about two seconds away from losing his mind.

Buck could already sense the next time coming. Tommy sighed, rubbed his eyes, and paused before reaching out. Here it comes, Buck thought, bracing himself.

"I will smother you," Buck grumbled out before Tommy reached out to touch him.

Tommy exhaled harshly in half a snort and instead of shaking him, shifted closer. His arm wrapped around Buck, pulling him snugly into his chest. A moment later, Buck felt Tommy's lips press gently against his shoulder. "Kinky."

"I'm fine. I know the president, my birthday, and that I need sleep," Buck mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion. He pressed back into Tommy's warmth, trying to erase any space between them.

"Mhm. See you in a few hours," Tommy replied softly, his breath warm against Buck's skin. His stubble grazed Buck's neck, sending a shiver through him that made him wish he wasn't so tired.

"I'll blow you if you don't wake me up," Buck tried to bargain, his voice muffled into the pillow.

"Nice try." This time Tommy did snort, pulling him even closer. At least Buck couldn't complain about the cuddles.

What he could complain about, though, was Tommy depriving him of coffee the next morning.

When they finally dragged themselves out of bed and into Tommy's kitchen, Buck was salivating at the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Tommy, with all the audacity in the world, made himself a steaming cup that looked divine—rich, dark, and he even poured a dash of the hazelnut milk that Buck knew Tommy kept around now, specifically for him.

Then, with a smile that could only be described as too innocent, Tommy slid a mug toward Buck.

Buck blinked, staring down at the cup in front of him. Tea. Chamomile tea. And just to twist the knife a little deeper, Buck's eyes landed on the small words printed across the tea bag tag: decaf.

"Wow," Tommy said. "You really mastered the kicked puppy look."

"I feel like a kicked puppy," Buck mumbled, his gaze locked on Tommy's cup like it held the meaning of life. "You're kicking a guy that's already on the ground."

Tommy took a slow, indulgent sip of his coffee, clearly enjoying the moment. "Doctor's orders," he said with a grin. "No caffeine for you, remember?"

"Why do you even have decaf Chamomile in the first place?" Buck stared at the tea, his face scrunching in distaste.

"It's good for you," Tommy shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Buck scoffed, glancing at the tea as though it were some kind of cruel punishment. "Good for me? It tastes like disappointment."

Tommy, completely unfazed by Buck's grumbling, just grinned. "Not today, concussion boy. Drink up."

With a reluctant sigh, Buck took a sip. And of course, he was right—it did taste like disappointment. Shifting in his chair, his gaze flickered back to Tommy's cup. His mind spun, searching for a way to negotiate.

"Hey, Tommy?" Buck asked, putting on his best pleading face, the one that worked way more often than it should.

Tommy, without looking up, hummed in response, "Hmm?"

"How about this? You give me one sip of yours and I won't ask again for the rest of the day." He tried as he slid his hand across the table, inching toward his goal.

Tommy chuckled, shaking his head as he placed his hand over Buck's, stopping it just short of the prize. "You're adorable, but not even a sip."

"You're borderline cruel," Buck groaned dramatically, letting his head fall onto his outstretched arm in mock defeat. He could practically feel Tommy grinning wider.

"You'll live," Tommy said, his voice full of affection. "And you'll thank me when you're not nursing a splitting headache later."

Buck huffed, not convinced. "I'm not thanking you for this."

Tommy took another slow, exaggerated sip of his coffee, savoring it. "We'll see."

Buck glared half-heartedly, plotting his next move.

======

Turns out, when you have a concussion, time crawls—especially when your boyfriend is a bossy rule follower. Buck had been through concussions before; this wasn't his first rodeo. But in the past, he'd usually handled them on his own, and he wasn't exactly known for following doctor's orders to the letter. He'd bend the rules, push the limits, and deal with the consequences later, a little worse for wear but still standing.

But now, with Tommy? Those rules didn't budge an inch.

Every suggestion from the doctor was treated like law—no caffeine, no screens, plenty of rest—and Tommy enforced each one like it was his personal mission. Buck had tried bending the rules at every opportunity, even the smallest bit, but Tommy didn't budge. Not an inch. It was infuriating, in a caring, loving kind of way.

After numerous failed attempts to get his way, Buck had finally convinced Tommy to let him help with making lunch. It was a small victory, but at least he wasn't completely sidelined.

But it didn't last.

For one moment, just for a second, Buck felt a little lightheaded, and had instinctively gripped the counter to steady himself. He hadn't even said anything, but Tommy noticed instantly. Without missing a beat, Tommy was at his side, gently but firmly guiding him away from the kitchen.

"Couch. Now," Tommy ordered, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Buck groaned in frustration, rolling his eyes but not bothering to argue as Tommy guided him back to the couch like a wayward child. He sank into it with a heavy sigh, staring up at the ceiling.

"Come on Tommy, this is getting ridiculous," Buck borderline whined. "I'm fine!"

"Says the guy that got dizzy a few seconds ago."

Buck rolled his eyes dramatically, folding his arms over his chest. "It wasn't even that bad. I just needed a second."

Tommy, ever patient, squatted down in front of him, resting his chin on his crossed arms on the arm of the couch. "A second is all it takes to hit the floor, and then we're back in the ER."

Buck huffed, "You're being overly cautious," he muttered.

Tommy leaned forward, his hand gently brushing through Buck's hair. "Yeah, well, we had a busy day yesterday while you were supposed to be resting." His voice softened, and his eyes held a quiet plea. "Just humor me for a bit longer, okay?"

How was he supposed to resist that? Tommy with his soft voice, gentle touch, and those eyes that Buck couldn't say no to. It wasn't fair.

Buck grumbled something incoherent, but the fight was gone. He sank further into the cushions, the couch feeling a bit more comfortable now.

"You're lucky you're cute." Buck mumbled.

Tommy chuckled softly, brushing his thumb lightly across Buck's temple. "Yeah, well, you're lucky I'm stubborn," he shot back, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He pressed a quick kiss to Buck's hairline before rising to head back to the kitchen, leaving Buck to his own devices.

To his credit, Buck did try to follow the mandated prescription of staying put on the couch. But sitting in silence, twiddling his thumbs? Never his strong suit. After a few moments of staring blankly at the ceiling, he glanced over at the kitchen door to make sure Tommy wasn't about to catch him in the act.

Buck reached for the remote on the coffee table. He made sure to lower the volume to practically a whisper—no need for Tommy's "stubbornness" to kick in again—before flicking through the options on Tommy's Netflix account. He scrolled through the suggested titles, but nothing really grabbed his attention. He ended up settling on one of the shows about the most dangerous animals in Central America.

He tried to follow along, but soon enough, his eyes started to sting, like dust had somehow gotten into them, and his concentration wavered. He blinked a few times, but the discomfort didn't go away. With a long, frustrated sigh, feeling defeated once again, he closed his eyes, choosing to listen to the show instead.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that—his mind drifting somewhere between being half-awake and almost dozing off—but clearly enough time had passed for Tommy to return.

"I'm this close to ordering a baby monitor just for you," Tommy's voice broke the quiet, startling Buck slightly.

Buck opened one eye to see Tommy near the couch, balancing two plates of food in his hands.

"Wasn't watching," Buck muttered defensively, blinking his eyes open fully. "Just… listening."

Tommy gave him a look, somewhere between amusement and exasperation. "What am I going to do with you?" He sighed dramatically as he set the plates down on the coffee table. He moved to sit at the edge of the couch, where Buck's legs were stretched out. With a gentle grasp, he lifted them and placed them over his lap, making room for himself before settling down. His thumb absently traced small circles over Buck's exposed ankle.

Buck's eyes immediately fell on the food— tomato soup, with steam rising from the bowls, accompanied by crispy grilled cheese sandwiches. Nothing fancy, but the savory smell of melted cheese and fresh tomatoes hit Buck like a wave, causing his stomach to betray him with a loud growl.

"Hmm, feed me?" Buck grinned sheepishly, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Tommy shook his head fondly and pointed to the food with a teasing smile. "Better start digging in before you starve."

Buck, not needing any further encouragement, sat up enough to reach for his plate. Balancing the bowl of tomato soup so it wouldn't spill on the couch, he brought it closer, and took a slow, cautious sip, letting the savory, rich flavor wash over him. An appreciative moan escaped his lips when he bit into the sandwich next.

They sat together, digging into their food while Netflix played low in the background. Buck couldn't help but glanced at Tommy from time to time, his heart swelling with affection for the man beside him.

Tommy's eyes flicked to Buck, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Better?" he asked, his voice soft but full of warmth.

Buck swallowed the last bite and nodded, grinning around his spoon. "Much better."

======

They eventually settled on the couch after finishing their meal, the dishes momentarily forgotten on the coffee table. Buck carved out a space behind him so Tommy could lie down. After a bit of awkward shuffling and adjusting, they managed to fit snugly on their sides, with Buck using one of Tommy's arms as a makeshift cushion. It didn't take long, with the warmth of Tommy's body against his back and Tommy breathing by his ear to lull him into a light doze. He wasn't entirely asleep, just drifting on the edge, feeling completely content.

At some point, Tommy moved, stirring him just enough to notice. He reached for the remote, switching the TV to a sports channel, and the low hum of the commentator filled the room. Buck opened one eye, catching a glimpse of the football game flickering on the screen, but his attention didn't linger. Instead, he turned around, seeking out more comfort.

He pressed himself into Tommy's chest, his arms wrapping around Tommy's waist as he nuzzled against him, seeking out the familiar heartbeat beneath his ear. Finding it, he let out a content hum.

Tommy, let his arm settle back down, slipping under Buck's shirt. His fingers traced soft, mindless shapes over Buck's skin as he nuzzled the top of Buck's head with his cheek.

"Sleep, baby," Tommy whispered softly, his voice barely louder than the hum of the TV.

Buck murmured something unintelligible in reply, too cozy and lazy to form real words. His grip on Tommy tightened slightly before fully relaxing again.

The next time Buck was woken up, it wasn't because Tommy shifted or shook him awake to check on his concussion. Instead, it was the sharp blare of a phone's ringtone jarring him from sleep. Not fully awake, Buck groaned softly, instinctively reaching out toward the coffee table, his hand fumbling for the phone. It took him a second to remember he was still phone-less.

Tommy shushed him gently, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head as he began to untangle himself from Buck's arms. "I've got it."

Buck let out a sleepy grumble in protest but didn't fight it. He felt the warmth of Tommy's body leave him as Tommy rose from the couch, standing up and stretching before quietly following the sound of the ringing phone.

Buck rolled onto his back, blinking groggily at the ceiling. He sighed, lazily draping an arm over his eyes, trying to fight the drowsiness as he waited for Tommy to come back. In the distance, he could hear Tommy's muffled voice as he answered the phone, his tone low, like he was trying not to disturb Buck any more than necessary.

It didn't take long for Tommy to return, phone and a glass of water in hand, but instead of lying back down beside Buck on the couch, he nudged Buck's legs aside and sat on the edge. The slight shift made Buck peek from under his arm.

"I'm sorry, baby, but you'll have to wake up," Tommy said softly, placing a gentle hand on Buck's shin. "Eddie gave my number to Athena. There's a detective who wants to come talk to us."

Buck groaned in protest, his voice muffled beneath his arm. "Tell them to go away. We're busy. Come back to bed."

Tommy chuckled, his fingers squeezing Buck's shin. "I wish," he said, the smile audible in his voice. "But the sooner we talk to him, the sooner we can get back to bed."

Buck let out a long, exaggerated sigh. "What happened to me resting? This is a violation of your prescribed recovery plan."

Tommy chuckled again, his voice soft and full of affection. "I know, I'll make it up to you," he promised, handing Buck the glass of water. "Here, have some water while I clean up."

Reluctantly, Buck lowered his arm and sat up, accepting the glass from Tommy. He took a slow sip, eyeing Tommy with a pout. "This better be quick."

"Let's hope," Tommy agreed with a nod, rising from the couch to gather the dishes. Just as he turned to walk away, Buck reached out and grabbed his arm with a quick 'Hey.'

Tommy glanced down at him, his expression curious, but before he could say anything, Buck tugged him closer, using the opportunity to pull him down into a kiss. It was somewhat awkward—Tommy towering over him, plates balanced in his hands, while Buck had the glass in his—but they made it work. Buck's lips met his in a warm, somewhat lazy yet lingering kiss. He heard Tommy hum appreciatively and Buck was tempted to deepen it, and make them both forget about their interruption.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were smiling. Tommy, still half-bent over Buck with the plates in hand, gave him a playful smirk, "You're insatiable."

Buck grinned, leaning back into the couch with a satisfied look. "You're the one who kissed me back," he quipped, his voice low, as if challenging Tommy to argue.

Tommy chuckled, straightening up. "As if I can ever say no to you."

"You're pretty good at telling me no today," Buck reminded, the denial of coffee still fresh in his mind.

"One of us have to be responsible," Tommy replied. "Now, please behave until I return."

The interview was anything but quick. By the time the doorbell rang, Buck had already splashed some water on his face in the bathroom and walked around the house to wake himself up.

After quick introductions, Buck was back on the couch, staring at the detective across from him and answering what felt like an endless string of increasingly annoying questions. Every detail was combed through, picked apart, and then repeated as if Buck's memory would suddenly change with enough prodding.

No, he didn't notice anything unusual in the station.

No, he didn't know where the fire started.

No, there wasn't any unusual smells or sounds or sights.

No, he couldn't recognize who jumped him.

No, he had no interactions with a damn cartel in his life.

Yes, he was sure.

By the time they circled back through the same questions for what felt like the hundredth time, Buck was exhausted, both mentally and physically.

The detective gave him a sympathetic smile, but it did little to ease the frustration building inside him. "Take your time. If anything else comes to mind, even the smallest detail, it could help."

Through it all, Tommy remained nearby, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed. He watched the questioning silently, waiting for his turn, but just knowing that he was there, eased some of the annoyance.

Eventually, the detective's attention shifted to Tommy, and with it came a whole new set of questions. Buck, barely holding onto his own patience, felt his frown deepen when the questions became more specific— about what Tommy knew before deciding to get involved, the exact events that transpired in the warehouse, and, most notably, why Tommy had chosen to get himself entangled in the cartel situation when he could've stayed out of it.

Tommy didn't outwardly react to it, but Buck knew him too well at this point. The slight jump in his eyebrow, the almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw - were all clear signs to Buck that Tommy found the question distasteful, maybe even offensive. The detective wasn't just asking about the details; it felt like he was questioning Tommy's character.

Buck clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to jump in. He knew Tommy could handle himself, but the way the detective framed his questions felt like an accusation rather than an inquiry. He hated the way the detective was questioning Tommy, as if his choice to help was somehow suspicious, as if he had to justify his every move.

Tommy, to his credit, maintained his composure, but there was a sharpness to his tone when he finally responded. "Look," he replied, his voice clipped, the irritation barely concealed. "I have my boyfriend's back, no questions asked. So I don't particularly care to stop and ponder if I'd be better off not getting involved. He needed me, I was there. That's all there is to it."

The detective jotted something down in his notebook, his face betraying nothing. Then, with a tone that felt almost casual, too casual, he said, "That's interesting. So you'd back Buck up, no matter what, without asking too many questions. That kind of loyalty… It can get tricky. You sure it's always the right call?"

Buck's blood ran hot at the insinuation, his hands curling into fists at his sides. The fuck? Was the detective really insinuating that Buck would take advantage of Tommy's supposed loyalty?

Before Buck could even think about snapping back, Tommy's voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"Works pretty well for our military, doesn't it? Act first, ask questions later?" He narrowed his eyes. "Why shouldn't I apply it to my own personal life when they do such a good job of instilling it?"

Buck glanced at Tommy, his heart pounding in his chest, not just from hearing Tommy defend him without hesitation, but from something else. He hadn't heard Tommy speak with such coldness, such calculated sharpness before. It was jarring, almost unsettling, to hear the normally soft voice sound with that much bite.

It was so easy to forget, that Tommy wasn't just the cool, funny and soft pilot-boyfriend Buck saw him as. The man, that Buck was falling deeper for everyday, wasn't all warmth and gentleness. That there was something harder underneath, something forged from a lifetime of discipline and witnessing things that Buck could only imagine. Years that hadn't always been kind to him.

And right now, that side of Tommy had surfaced, all because someone had dared to question his judgment when it came to Buck. It was one thing to believe Tommy would have his back, but to actually witness it? It hit Buck harder than he'd expected.

The detective, sensing he'd hit a nerve, scribbled something down in his notebook, his expression neutral, though Buck didn't miss the slight hesitation before he moved on to the next question.

Tommy's hand relaxed slightly, the tightness in his jaw easing, but the room still felt tense.

Thankfully for Buck's sanity, the questioning wrapped up soon after. The detective offered a vague, "We'll keep in touch," before rising from his seat. There were no promises, no direct implications that Buck would need to testify or get further involved.

Tommy walked him out and Buck let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when the door closed. When Tommy came back into the room, he circled the couch and, with a touch of theatrics, all but collapsed into it. Buck smiled and leaned in, so their shoulders would touch.

"You're banned from ever giving your number to anyone again," Buck muttered, the playfulness in his voice cutting through the lingering exhaustion.

Tommy let out a soft laugh, tilting his head toward Buck with a raised eyebrow. "Oh, so I'm the problem now?"

"I'm not the one that gave your address to find us. In fact, I remember telling you to tell them that we are busy." Buck grinned wider.

"Gotcha. Next time, we'll just become fugitives," Tommy said, feigning seriousness.

"Next time, huh?" Buck teased, nudging him playfully. "So you're planning to go full criminal with me?"

"Within reason. I wouldn't help you bury a body—that's Eddie's job, " Tommy tilted his head in mock consideration. "But I might provide the shovels. And refreshments."

Buck's laugh burst out before he could stop it at the ridiculousness of the conversation.

"Taking your boyfriend duties very seriously, babe," Buck teased again, resting his head against Tommy's shoulder.

"Damn right." Tommy replied, his voice warm and full of affection.

It was as if the coldness was never there in the first place.

======

They eventually found themselves back between the sheets in Tommy's bed. As comfortable as the couch had been for lounging, it didn't take long for the stiffness in their backs to make them seek out the comfort of the bed.

"Eddie said he can bring your car and and phone tomorrow afternoon," Tommy informed as he typed out a message on his phone. "Not that's it's invitation for you to drive."

"Mhm," Buck agreed, half-listening, his focus entirely elsewhere. He was propped up on his elbows, eyes trailing over Tommy's chest with a kind of lazy fascination. Tommy had forgone his shirt, and in doing so had unintentionally pulled all of Buck's attention to the bare skin in front of him.

Tommy glanced down at him with an amused smile, though he didn't stop typing. "Are you listening at all?"

"Busy," was all that Buck muttered in response, as he leaned down and began placing light, deliberate kisses on Tommy's chest.

Tommy's fingers paused over the screen for a brief second, his breath catching slightly, but he didn't give in. He continued typing, refusing to let Buck's ministrations fully distract him.

Buck trailed his lips upward from his chest, slowly working his way toward Tommy's neck, in particular the spots that he knew were sensitive. The kisses grew more playful, more teasing, as he nibbled lightly at the skin near his collarbone, testing the waters.

It had been entirely too long since they were able to fuck around. Can anyone blame him for trying?

"Evan," Tommy half-warned, his voice dipping, though there was a hint of amusement there. "Don't start something you can't finish."

"Oh, I can finish alright," Buck grinned placing a soft kiss just below Tommy's ear, knowing exactly how to toe the line. Just to drive the point home, he pressed his hips against the side of Tommy's thigh, making sure Tommy felt the unmistakable tent in his boxers.

Tommy's breath faltered slightly, as he gave up on the phone entirely, tossing it aside to focus on Buck. His hand slid around Buck's waist, pulling him closer. "No strenuous physical activity remember?"

Buck smirked, his lips hovering near Tommy's ear.

"We don't have to do anything strenuous ,” he teased, placing another deliberate kiss against the sensitive skin of Tommy's neck.

"It's nothing but strenuous with you," Tommy let out a soft groan. "But I am serious. You need to be resting."

"I have been resting. All day," Buck pointed out, his voice carrying a teasing edge as he shifted closer. With one smooth movement, he swung his leg over Tommy's hips, planting himself firmly in his lap. His hand cupped Tommy's cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against the stubble as he leaned in, closing the distance between them.

Before Tommy could protest further, Buck pressed his lips to Tommy's in a slow, deliberate kiss. The kiss was slow at first, his tongue tracing against Tommy's lips, deepening the kiss with a hunger that had been building all day. Tommy's hands slid down Buck's sides, finding their way to the swell of Buck's ass. He gave a light squeeze, pulling him down and grinding their hips together with a firm press. The sudden friction drew a deep moan from Buck, his breath hitching as his body responded instantly to the sensation.

Buck's hips bucked forward, pressing harder against Tommy, chasing the delicious friction that appeared. A wave of pleasure surged through him as he felt Tommy's hard outline pressing back against him. Tommy bit down on Buck's bottom lip, tugging lightly, drawing a sharp breath from Buck.

But then, Tommy reluctantly released Buck's lip with a gentle bite, pulling away just enough to speak, his breath still ragged.

"That," Tommy murmured, his voice rough and low, "is your non-strenuous activity for the day."

Buck groaned, not satisfied in the slightest. He immediately tried to close the distance between them again, his lips chasing after Tommy's, but Tommy held him in place.

"That's nowhere near enough," Buck muttered as he pressed his hips down again, seeking more contact.

Tommy chuckled, his grip moving from Buck's ass to his waist as he held him in place, preventing him from pushing any further. "Down, boy."

Buck, refusing to back down just yet, gave Tommy the biggest pout he could muster. This was actual torture.

"You're cruel," Buck muttered, his hands resting on Tommy's chest, fingers twitching with the urge to pull him closer.

Tommy leaned in, his lips brushing against Buck's ear, his voice a teasing whisper. "Once your concussion's cleared up," he murmured, his breath hot against Buck's skin, "I'll fuck your brains out. How does that sound?"

That caught Buck's attention immediately. He froze for a moment, tilting his head slightly as the words sank in, his brain slowly processing what Tommy had just said. They always got handsy whenever they had time- whether it ended in a quick blowjob or those longer, drawn-out moments where Buck was fucking him into the mattress.

Not that Buck hadn't thought about it before, or even hesitated about the idea. Hell, there were numerous nights when just imagining it got him off more times than he could count, when Tommy wasn't around. Buck had more than a few fantasies of Tommy, taking him apart in ways he hadn't quite experienced yet.

But Tommy had never brought it up, and Buck hadn't been sure how to ask. They had a good thing going, and Buck didn't want to push it in case Tommy wasn't into it.

A soft, almost shy, "You want to fuck me?" slipped out before he could stop it.

Tommy paused, his teasing grin fading just slightly as he met Buck's eyes. His expression shifted, something softer and more tender replacing the playful edge. His hand slid up to cup Buck's cheek, his thumb brushing gently across his skin.

"If that's something you want. Or other way around," He answered quietly, his voice still low but more serious now, more intimate. "There's absolutely no pressure. Or wrong answer."

Buck blinked, feeling a wave of emotions wash over him. He leaned into Tommy's hand, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "I'd like that," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've thought about it. Before."

Tommy's thumb continued its soothing stroke across Buck's cheek, his lips curling into a gentle, knowing smile. "See," The teasing edge returning to his voice, "now you've got something to look forward to. So be good and listen to the doctor's orders."

Buck couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped him.

"Fine, fine," he muttered, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips.

Tommy's smile widened as he leaned in, pressing a light kiss to Buck's lips. "That's my boy," he whispered against his mouth.

Buck's heart skipped a beat and and with a playful groan, he lightly swatted at Tommy's chest.

"You're not helping," he muttered, though there was no real bite in his word.

"I know."

Buck shifted, settling more comfortably against Tommy, his head resting against Tommy's shoulder as he let out a content sigh. Tommy's arm slipped around Buck's waist, pulling him closer as he adjusted the covers, tucking them around both of them.

For a few moments, they stayed like that.

"Hey, Tommy?" Buck's voice came out softly, a little hesitant, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to break the stillness.

"Hm?"

"Thanks… for putting up with me today," Buck said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And for, you know, not making a big deal out of… that."

There was a brief pause, and Buck felt Tommy's arm tighten around his waist, pulling him even closer.

"Evan, you ridiculous man," Tommy murmured, and if his voice came out a little more choked up, Buck didn't mention it. "Tere's absolutely nothing to thank me for."

[hellonerf]

endless insanity incoherent shit about ame and love and family(featuring england and cana a bit specifically sorry france i actually do have thoughts about that there but i'm lazy and tired and this is incoherent already)(it didn't start off like that this is honestly like some stream of thought shit hence the incoherence)

some shit when i think about. sorry. colonial ame extremely upset tantrums theres no way england didnt hit him or spank him which would just upset ame more. ame would sulk and wish for england to drop dead because theres not much else he can say or do about the frustration. cana goody two shoes kid would be like why do you have to act out like that so much... ame immediate rage. probably hits cana like GO CRY ABOUT IT!!! and cana cries and then england walks in like America!!! and it just gets worse. but in the end when england has to leave again ame still clings and cries after england is saying his goodbyes. england does feel that he cares about ame deeply, so he does try to show his affection. theres some gap here between the care he shows and his "responsibility as a caretaker" if you will... and he's like a teen dad at this point? with his own shitload of baggage and ideas on responsibility from that baggage. man this family can be so interesting. i love tension

of course. this is just my crazythinking that in situations where, you could say, england's parenting was abusive of sorts, specifically in the physical way, to punish tantrums or etc... i think cana would be inclined to try to play polite kid to avoid punishment. and so he would feel maybe more vindicated? that he's the good example. in this it creates kind of a chasm between england/cana and ame. (why i think mapletea would just drive ame crazy wall smashing head insane, besides that ame already feels jealous/insecure like that anyways no matter what) this feeling is pushed by the revolution where ame and england are Like That, and here again cana sides with england(he's not Fully in it but he does technically side with england, and ame definitely views it like that). to him this is proof... of what you ask? i don't know..... that period where he was on decidedly bad terms with both of them, i always think he's like teenage-losing it about it. won't show it or at least will try not to of course, but it's genuinely something that eats at him so hard. (ame voice Nobody loves me. Everyone should love me. i could probably make that happen.) and ame decides things like that first and foremost with personal relations. this is specific, but im like, i think it's a mental testing he does on people. example, completely without their knowledge, someone's random act can register in his brain as an opposition to him, because his mind decided that's what it means.(somewhere subconscious). so for some time i'd imagine in his mind, that cana and england hated him, or looked down on him, or expected him to wind up dead anyways. ame is never not looking for approval and this fuels that sooooo much. it's like spite and anger and crying and stomping on the ground and in a way grieving. he's staring at the sky like it's unfair. they don't want me in their life. because i'm better than them. i hate them so much.(he wouldn't say it like this to other people, hate is a strong word, and i wouldn't say he hates them here either)

despite his bravado of "whaat? everyone likes me right?" the mental cogs are stuck here no matter what he says. cana loves him, even if it's so frustrating to, cana cares about him deeply. it fucks with ame's brain but he knows this deep down, that cana does love and care about him. at some point too he knows the same for england. but i also think he's like, specifically with cana too when he's specifically being really cynical about relations is like, "oh and he's only around... cause he has to be..." and ame wouldn't entirely be wrong there. and cana would argue so what! do you need a cosmic soulmate love to prove something? and ame is like (yeah i kinda do....). love can't just exist for you right here right now?! cana's love is "invalidated" in this sense. and also it hurts his brain too much to really think about the complexities in his relationship to both england and cana. that they really did care about him, but it's not easy. (hurts his brain... like why is interaction so stressful? why is it complicated? why can't people just go i love you and the end?). ame is not a romantic person but i think his view on love can get so fantastical like this. (he wants to be the one proposed to awwww omg you guysss...) at the same time it's a very simple view on love. he doesn't want to end up humiliated and is willing to humiliate others to avoid it. if love is true then there is One True Love... For him... JK! NOT FOR HIM!(slurps soda) who needs that shyit!!!(eats burger). a lot of things he can't/really doesn't want to accept. this is why i'd say anytime he ever felt feelings significant enough that even he would call it love it was mindnumbingly overwhelming. putting his eggs in one basket... don't fail me now!!! (and i always think none of his relationships are stable. duh. so). i like fics where ame is made to be like a crazy ex girlfriend. because he would. rather than love as a constant thing to do it sometimes feels more like an achievement or endpoint for him. something that happens at the end of movies lol... if love was happening REALTIME it'd be surreal for him to process. and like true genuine love not his fake idea of what love looks like

[k-slla]

Before you continue to reading I'm letting you know that in here is a major spoiler for Spn se15.ep20 - you've been warned 🥲

Warnings: all angst this one, show level violence, death

WC: 2,222

I am sorry, but kind of I am not- I've cried a lot writing this and I hope that you will too..🤍

All mistakes are mine!

My Masterlist

Enjoy!

You sat at the library table, staring at the working voice recorder placed on the table in front of you. You didn’t even know what pushed you to do these recordings. Maybe you wished, deep in your heart, that somehow  some version of Dean from an alternate universe would find them. All that sorrow, grief and pain that you went through from losing a soulmate of your world, should probably have some effect on them, too, right? He wouldn’t be the Dean you’re talking about right now, but he’d know that in some other timeline he was loved, he’s gone and you’re missing him, a lot. You wanted to hope so at least.

Maybe it was just to get those feelings out that were burning your insides like acid. Even if it was the same story told by you every day. Maybe it was just your way to deal with losing him.

Well, whatever the reason was, you had no one you needed to explain yourself to. 

Some days it was just maddening, being all alone in the Bunker. Sam had left a long time ago. He didn't forget Dean, but he definitely moved on. You stayed put, you couldn't take the needed step to move out or to try move on. All connections with Jody and Donna and even Claire slowly died off and there was no one left for you to go to other than the recorder now waiting for you to speak your mind. Perhaps that was just your fate. Who could change that?

“Hey, Dean, it’s me. Today is..” you sucked in a quick breath. “Today marks the full year that you’ve been gone now.” You continued quietly. November 19th. You couldn’t believe that it’s already been a year without him. “Each day getting closer to today, it has gotten harder for me to climb out of bed in the morning. Every morning when I awoke, I looked beside me in bed and you weren’t there. You haven't been there for a year and I miss you, Dean. I miss you so much.” You thought you had already shed all your tears, but no - they still kept pouring every morning, day and night. 

“And I miss Sam, too. I know that I’ve probably said it a million times before, but…Well, Sam moved out of the Bunker not long after we gave you..” Following words scraped your throat like thorns. “..the burial. And I completely understand that. He didn’t want to stay here anymore. I can’t blame him. I couldn’t leave and now it’s just lonely here. He begged that I’d let him take Miracle with him. I know how much you loved that pup. I miss him, too. But believe it or not, Sam left me the Baby for now. I did tell him that this was your legacy, your father's legacy and he agreed that when the day comes, Baby would be left to his eldest.” You smiled through tears that were silently running down your cheeks, thinking of Sam someday having kids. 

Something that Dean never got to enjoy for his own. Talking about everything over and over again eased you in some way. Even if it was for the day.

“I still have a hard time thinking about that night. Nightmares even. That was supposed to be your last hunt. We were almost out. And…And it was your last hunt.” 

You and Dean did have dreams. Big dreams for your future without Chuck, monsters and hunting. You never told anyone, but you and Dean were very close to trying to start a family. 

You definitely had hoped for a little Mini-Dean. Both of you were so excited, when you had all your late night pillow talks about family and kids, thinking about names even. He would've been an amazing father, you were absolutely certain of that.

“What am I supposed to do now?” Your voice broke. You figured that if it wasn't for you talking to this recorder on a daily basis, you'd probably go mute. You and Sam texted, very infrequently, once a month or so. He gave a promise to Dean, to look out for you, but it wasn't his fault that you were the one drawing back from him. Even with a text a month, you still felt like you were hanging over him like some shadow from his past, clawed to his back, keeping him from moving on. And you didn't want that, so you’d rather not speak at all. 

“What am I supposed to do?” You repeated with a whisper. You still hunted sometimes, if you had the energy for that or if it happened to be close to you. But it was a rare sight. You did some odd jobs, just to have some money for food to keep you going. But you didn't need much. Meal a day was enough to sustain you after all the hard work of sitting at the library or sleeping. 

Honestly you felt like you were fading away staying in the Bunker. But also there was nowhere for you to go.

“We were so close. So close, Dean, to get to our dream…and still…” You couldn't stop the tears that were now free falling. Memories of that night forced themselves into your consciousness. 

A simple routine vampire hunt. You had to admit, you were a little bit nervous, but still, there were the three of you together, so you knew the chances of anything happening were slim. But there were more vamps than you all had expected and it turned out to be a struggle. You were all battling for your lives there. Everything happened so quickly. One second Dean was fighting with one of them, the next moment he was across the room, pinned against the post.

Sam quickly took care of the vamp who had attacked Dean, while you fought with one on your own. Sam came to help you out, and when you took a look around, you saw all the headless bodies laying around. Neither of you didn't even realize at first that Dean hadn't moved after the attack, not before he called out to you. “ Y/N, I- I can't..” 

Sam reacted first and ran to him. “Hey! Hey, hey, don't move, Dean. We'll get help for you. It'll be okay.” Dean took a few quick breaths in. “No, Sammy. It's…I think it's pierced.. right through.” He looked at his stomach and your eyes followed, and you saw a tip of a metal spike coming through.

“Dean! No, no, no…please no! Sammy, help him!” You yelled hoarsely, while your hands traveled all over Dean's body, trying to find the best way to get him off there.

“No, Y/N, sweetie. No.” Dean remained calm when he looked at you. “You can't move me. I'm sorry. I don't think I have long left…” He spoke quietly, a few tears running down his cheeks. You stood in front of him, barely able to stay up as he brought up his hand to your cheek. 

“I love both of you. So much.” His eyes shifted between you and Sam. “Please..Y/N, can I - can I talk with Sam for a second?” You nodded and shut your eyes tightly, fighting tears. “Of course, honey.” You let go of him and walked a little bit further to give them a moment. 

You sat down on the ground and looked at the brothers, who were now saying their goodbyes to each other. This wasn't how the hunt was supposed to end. This wasn't how everything was supposed to end. It was too soon. Just a simple vampire hunt had turned so quickly into this nightmare. 

With his last strength Dean was holding onto Sam's shirt. “You’ll have to look out for her, Sammy. For me. She'll need you out there..” You heard Dean say quietly. “And-” Dean's voice had started to quiver. “I love you so much, my baby brother. I-I need you to tell me…” he took a deep breath to steady his voice and looked Sam straight in the eyes. “I need you to tell me that it's okay. I need to hear that from you, Sammy.” Both of them had tears silently streaming down their faces. “I’ll look after her, Dean. I promise..” You knew how much it hurt for Sam to say the following. “And it's okay, Dean..It will be okay.” he tried to smile through his tears. 

You saw how Dean looked at Sam. His baby brother, he’d taken care of almost all their lives. They've had all their fights over the years, differences on what's right or wrong, or how to save the world, but ultimately all that what was now left there, was love. The same, unconditional love that they've had for each other from day one.

Dean let go of Sam and looked at you on the ground. You knew what was coming and you were not ready for that. “Y/N, please..come here..” he was out of breath just a little. “Dean, no..” you were bawling and protesting against saying goodbye to him even though you still dragged yourself up and to him. 

“I'll be outside for just a second.” Sam moved a few steps back, to give you two a moment alone. You held onto Dean's shirt, keeping yourself from collapsing. You were shaking all over your body from the shock. Even now, standing face to face with him, you couldn’t look Dean in the eyes. “Baby, please look at me.” You shook your head and sobbed loudly, fingers clinging tighter onto his shirt. “I can’t, Dean!” 

Dean reached for your cheek, holding it softly and whispering. “I need you to…I need to see you..” You took a shuddering breath and finally gathered strength to look at him. You didn’t want to think of what’s going to happen tomorrow. All you could do for now, was to cherish the time you had with him. Even if it ends way too soon, you had to be happy with the time you had together. Not every hunter is as lucky as you and Dean were. You had to take everything from that moment that you had to say goodbye to Dean. 

For a little while, both of you stared at each other without saying a word. In his eyes you saw acceptance of what’s to come. He had already made peace with his fate. Now there was only left for you to do the same.

“You are beautiful, Y/N.” he smiled weakly. “I’m sorry..for leaving you, but I know you..” He closed his eyes for a second to take a deep breath to keep going. “I know you’ll be alright, but baby, you have to stop hunting..please promise me, Y/N, that you’ll get out.”

“Dean, I can’t…not alone..”

“Yes, you can.” His hand faintly squeezed yours that was still locked in his shirt.

You moved closer to Dean to rest your forehead against his. “Well...I don’t want to.” you sniffled.

“You have to, sweetheart…Tell me..it’s okay..you have to tell me it’s okay..for me to go.” he spoke fast but the words were quietly fading on his lips. This was it. 

You turned your head towards the door. “Sammy!” Turning back to Dean, you kissed him for the last time. “It’s okay, Dean, you can..you can let go..I love you.” Very faint smile appeared on Dean’s face as he saw Sam beside you again. 

“No bringing me back this time, Sam.” He wheezed out. “We’ll see each other again soon enough.” You rested your head on his shoulder and felt his whole body slowly starting to relax. Dean leaned into you and with his final breath, he quietly whispered into your ear. “I love you, Y/N.” 

From the corner of your eye you saw Sam break down on the floor. He sat there for a minute while you still held onto Dean. A moment later, Sam got up and pulled you into his strong embrace when you were still struggling to breathe. “We- we got work to do.” You sniffled and let go of Sam, sudden numbness taking over you. 

You didn't know how long you were sitting there, thinking about his last moments. You had no idea what time it was. Day or night, it started to feel all the same to you. 

Your brain had blocked out mostly everything after the goodbye. You knew you helped Sam with Dean and the pyre, but there were no emotions there. You were numb. Your moves were robotic. Both you and Sam stood by Dean as long as the fire was out. He wanted to get you away from that but you refused to leave. All you could think of while you were standing there, was that there was no one, nor will there be anyone you'll love more than Dean. 

“I love you, Dean. I'll speak to you tomorrow.” You whispered your last goodbye for the day before you turned off the recorder. Every day has become the same to you. You knew that one day you'll see him again and that was all that kept you going. Knowing that Dean was still waiting for you was all you needed to move forward.

Taglist: @jackles010378 @cevansbaby-dove @alternativeprincess94 @deanwinchestersgirl87 @il0vebeingdelulu

[pianistbynight]

What are your top study strategies with piano? I'm a self-taught pianist that most started because of my love for your lie in April and how music moved people so I am always trying to improve!!!

hi! first of all, i'm sorry this took a while, i wanted to make sure i had as complete a list as possible without being too overwhelming! also not sure what level you're at, so i'm going to assume you're just starting out and you're looking to play classical music. 🙂 also this is more of a "do as i say, not as i do" bc i really struggle to do some of these consistently 🙈

try to learn some basic music theory as soon as you can. just enough to be able to read sheet music (how to read treble and bass clefs, accidentals, time signatures, basic rhythm, and key signatures) if you haven't already. that's something i regret not doing at the beginning bc the vast majority of music and all of classical music are written in sheet music and you get so much more info from it than you can from the best of synthesia videos. beyond that, knowing music theory -> pattern recognition, so it can help with sight reading and memorization. this is the youtube series i learned the basics from. it's pretty comprehensive although i find he's sometimes hard to hear and goes off on a tangent. at the very least, you can use it as a guide for what to type into the search box to get a more concise explanation as there are lots online!

familiarize yourself with the basic technical exercises (scales, arpeggios, triads, etc.) in every key bc those patterns and fingerings appear all the time in classical music.

practice sight reading. (yes, i know it hurts the brain, it hurts mine too, but it will really really speed up the learning process when learning new repertoire so we can focus on the more fun aspects of music! 😆😅)

practice every day! and not just moving your fingers, your mind needs to be present and your ears need to be listening (e.g. are you playing with the right dynamics? are you moving in a way that will get the right tone? how is your posture?). sometimes it's a lot to be thinking about as you're playing, so it helps to record yourself and listen back. once you feel yourself losing focus or making the same mistakes over and over again, maybe it's time to take a little break bc practice makes permanent and you don't wanna injure yourself 🙂

on that note, playing an instrument is kind of like playing a sport in that you need to make sure you use proper form so you don't injure yourself (using bigger muscle groups like your arm and gravity rather than forcing the sound through blocky fingers)! if you play on a digital, the keys will generally be lighter than on an acoustic (highly recommend trying to play on both to compare!), so making a conscious effort to play the way you would be forced to on an acoustic is all the more important.

i hope this helps! my ask box is always open if you have any more questions or just wanna talk music 🎶💗 i'm really excited for you! expressing yourself through music and sharing it with others is so fulfilling 😊

[beevean]

sonic: "Maybe we should let the koco finish on it's own-"

Amy: "We HAVE TO DO THIS!"

sonic: "Why?"

Amy: "WE HAVE TO!"

sonic: "...But Tails is still missing-"

amy: "do you not care about this koco getting laid!?"

I get the intent. I do. I get that Amy cares about the small critters. I get that her story in SA1 was all about protecting one birdie, and her introduction was even asking Sonic to guard it, when he obviously had much bigger things on his mind (like finding Tails lol)

But in Frontiers it doesn't work precisely because Amy knows that Tails is still trapped in Cyberspace! She knows how awful it feels!

"It's certainly unsettling. But it makes a big difference being able to at least talk to you. Before you freed me, I couldn't see or hear anything clearly. It was like looking into a kaleidoscope that was always shifting. I couldn't tell if I was coming, going, or moving at all. I'd have gone crazy if you hadn't gotten me out!"

She should be at the very least torn between him and helping the Kocos, not straight up chewing Sonic out for wanting to help his friend!

Sonic: We still haven't found Tails. We've been wrangling children and taking detours the whole way. Amy: Are you telling me you would leave behind someone in need?

amy. my girl. my pal. tails might be slowly going insane trapped in a nightmare for all you know. i think he counts as being "someone in need". the kocos can wait without losing their minds.

It makes lines like this

"What is wrong with you?! Sonic would never endanger anyone! He's even going to help this Koco reunite with their one true love!"

quite less funny, because I know that the joke is that she's focused on the Kocos when Sonic isn't exactly thrilled, but... it really looks like she completely forgot about Tails.

Again, I completely get what they were going for! Amy cares about the small creatures and common people, even in big situations. But here she just doesn't look good. And Sonic only calms her down when she says "but I'm worried about you too". C'mon. Again, SA1 did this kind of conflict better when Amy put herself between Sonic and Gamma because she cared about him while Sonic only saw him as a robot to be destroyed. That shows Amy's compassionate heart in a more effective way that doesn't accidentally make her look like a shitty friend.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Epic Buddie Fic Rec | October 9th-15th 2023

Hey guys!

I'm trying to get back into the habit of making these recs every week. I've been working on a banner and it's not ready yet, but I didn't want to wait for it to be ready before making fic recs because procrastination = bad!! 😆 I hope you enjoy!

If you don't know me from my other fic rec blogs, I rec pretty much all the fics that I've read and that I've enjoyed in these recaps, but I put an emoji next to the ones that I liked just a liiiiiittle bit more 😉 For Stucky, I used blue hearts (💙), for Steddie I used black hearts (🖤), and for Buddie... well the decision wasn't too hard to make 😜

Complete

take me to the edge (then let me fall) by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP | 1K | Explicit): Or, the one where Eddie edges Buck until he loses his mind all the while calling him a good boy.

🔥 but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Post-S6, Time Loop | 28K Mature): He puts his laptop away after a bit, and paces the length of his apartment as he tries to take stock of the situation at hand. One: The date is March 22nd, 2024. Two: It has been March 22nd for 3 days now. Three: Buck is trapped in some kind of time loop that is forcing him to relive this day. Four: Eddie is, apparently, in love with him. And. And. Five: Buck doesn’t feel the same way.

🔥 still by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Post-Season 6 AU, Near Death Experiences | 9K | Teen): “Your guess was correct, Diaz,” the bomb technician tells them, as he gestures to the orange circle. “You’re standing on a large sensor plate, wired to a detonator. It’s incredibly important that you don’t move. Don’t shift. When you put your weight down, it was like cocking a gun - you take your weight off, this thing is powerful enough to take the entire house with it."

to feel the need of your touch by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP, Light BDSM, Post-Season 6 | 7K | Explicit): When Natalia had casually suggested they stay fuck buddies, at least until he got his shit together about Eddie, Buck had seriously considered it. But it just wasn’t what he wanted. So, he had said no and Natalia had understood, and that was that. And now, Buck was miserable. He was so sensitive. His skin felt like a live wire. Any and all touches he received started to feel like a shock to his system. Or, the one where Buck is touchstarved and desperate for Eddie. They fuck but it's also really sweet.

reassure me with your praise by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP, Kinktober, Getting Together | 5K | Explicit): Or, the one where Buck is concerned he might be bad in bed and Eddie has a solution.

bet on it by honestlydarkprincess/ @honestlydarkprincess (PWP, Kinktober | 4K | Explicit): Or, the one where newly together Buck and Eddie make a bet to see who can last longer without sex. The bet lasts one day.

Something Dumb to Do by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Friends to Lovers, First Time | 8K | Explicit): "Too bad we can't just date each other." Eddie laughs. "What?" "No, I'm serious!" Buck sets his beer down, the better to gesture with both hands, face lighting up, and Eddie just—he really loves the guy, okay. Ridiculous as he is. "It would be so much easier! You wouldn't have to introduce a new person to Chris—he already likes me anyway—and you could tell Pepa so she'll stop setting you up on dates that don't go anywhere—" "And what would you get out of this?" Eddie asks, grinning. - Or: Buck and Eddie try something out together.

hope is a sword by marcato/ @callaplums (Post-Season 6, Near-Death Experiences | 5K | Teen): Holy shit, Eddie loves him so much. He’s been so stupid, telling himself to wait for the right moment. What right fucking moment? It should have been yesterday, three weeks ago– hell, it should have been three years ago when he was telling his best friend about the goddamn will. It doesn’t matter right now, though. The only thing that matters is keeping as much of Buck’s blood inside his body as possible. One can only hope and wish and pray.

🔥 Four Can Keep a Secret by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-Season 6, Secret Relationship | 20K | Teen): When Ravi and Hen accidentally see Buck and Eddie, who are trying hard to keep their new relationship a secret, in the middle of a romantic moment, they try to make them confess without the rest of the station finding out. Shenanigans ensue.

early hours of yearning by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (PWP, Kinktober | 4K | Explicit): “You really wanna go again?" “Yes,” he confirms, gently scratching his teeth down the side of his neck, treasuring the deep moan he gets in response. “God, you’re fucking insatiable," he hears Eddie moan as he tilts his head back, giving Buck more space to work. “Doesn’t feel like you’re complaining."

how forever feels by icesculptures/ @ice-sculptures @athenagranted (Post-Season 6, Getting Together | 8K | General): Or: tired of the growing distance between them, Eddie asks Buck to dance at Maddie and Chimney's wedding, healing more than his own heart along the way.

WIP

Don't They Know It's the End of the World? by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Fallout 4 AU, Post-Apocalyptic | 4/14 | 7K | Mature | Warning: Violence): After being put in a cryogenic sleep for over a hundred years to wait out an apocalyptic event, Eddie Diaz wakes up, too early, to find his son has been stolen from his cryo-chamber. Scared and alone in a frightening world he doesn't recognize, Eddie is willing to do anything to get his kid back.

🔥 Nothing Left But You by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars ("Blip" AU | 8/9 | 24K | Teen | Warning: MCD): In May of 2021, 25% of Earth's population suddenly disappears. Including Eddie. In May of 2026, they all come back. Eddie finds himself suddenly in the middle of a world he doesn't recognize, where the people he loves most have changed significantly.

Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Demon Buck, Canon Divergent | 2/? | 4K | Teen): Buck is a demon with the power to help with pregnancy, childbirth, and infant health. When the Buckleys make a deal asking for someone to help 'save their baby', Buck leaps at the chance as it will give him what he's always wanted: a life on earth. But demon deals are tricky and neither of them gets quite what they're after. This is Buck's journey as he navigates growing up on earth and remembering how to help those in need.

🔥 for all the haunts and homes of men by euadnes/ @kananjarus (Canon Divergent, Post-Apocalyptic, Station Eleven Crossover | WIP | 10/? | 85K | Mature | Warning: Violence): The year by the old calendar is 2025. Home is gone. Home is a failed rescue mission and an echo of a memory. Home is a lost boy living in a wooden house by the sea. But first, there was a promise. Christopher, when it's safe, I'll take you back to your father. Buck had all but given up on keeping it after the world had died and everyone in it. But just as some oaths refuse to be forgotten, so the same can be said about the endurance of love.

[khaopybara]

Ok I have written and rewritten this trying to get all my thoughts together about affair so l apologize if im all over the place.

I am glad that wan ran away and im actually having second thoughts about wanting them to be together. One part of me understands and accepts that pleng has been slower at realizing her own feeling for wan (it happens) while wan has been all in since they were kids. The other half of me wants to slap pleng and shout at her "WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE ONE FOOT OUT THE DOOR, CANT YOU SEE HOW MUCH WAN LOVES YOU!?!?" THIS WOMAN MARRIED A GUY SHE DIDNT EVEN LOVE TO KEEP HER PROMISE TO PLENG AND HAD HOPED THAT PLENG WOULD SEE THEIR WEDDING ANNOUNCEMENT!!! Admittedly a little extreme but I guess that's love!

During the entirety of pleng reading wans letter I was like "mhm yep" "so right" "exactly!" Wan said it all perfectly imo.

I feel like wan should only accept her back and forgive her if she agrees to go to both individual and couples therapy.

(also that tattoo shop was as busy as deane's 😆)

-🤫

In a similar manner, I've also written and rewritten this lol but I've been having so many feelings about WanPleng and Affair for the past couple of weeks, like seriously. And mind you, I will make no sense in this post. I'll sound like an hypocrite at times, but trust the process.

There was not even one character in Affair that didn't piss me off at some point.

Pleng pushes the protagonist privilege with me the most, and Wan has probably annoyed me the least.

But also, gotta give credit where credit is due (I suppose). The name of the show is Affair, so from the very beginning, I assumed they'd be problematic and not your usual GL sweet protagonists. I did expect it to be a more problematic-together thing, though, as in them actually being part of the affair (I could go on a full rant about Eek, but I'll stop myself), but instead, we got emotionally immature and stagnant former rich kid Pleng running away from every single one of her problems and coming up with solutions (that involve Wan) completely by herself without consulting anyone first. And it's not exactly an insecurity thing she developed for losing both of her parents + her wealth. She has done that since they were kids. It feels like an entitlement she has over Wan's life from day one.

On the other hand, we got overachiever Plengpleasing Wan who has tricked an already emotionally constipated and loveless Eek into dating and marrying her just bc Pleng told her to do it. She has always made her intentions so clear to Pleng, but I also wish she had used her words more, especially after they became adults.

They both need so much therapy and counselling, because if they stay together, it'll only be because they have this wrong notion that they are only able to love each other in this lifetime. And it's an insecure love, because in that letter, you can hear how much resentment she still has for Pleng leaving.

And mind you, I say this with love! They are extremely unhealthy to each other, and Wan's mom is kind of right when she says Pleng clouds Wan's perspective. They love each other unhealthily and at this point, they both deserve each other (and it's not like their options are good with a bunch of dudes who are all pain the asses. I'm not even kidding, not even one of them if a good fit. I didn't even remember who that Frank guy was and then remembered he's the one in the bike who I thought wanted Pleng first and then saw that Wan became a pretty teenager!!! And decided to switch his attentions to her instead.)

Anyway. I love them, and I hope they learn the magic of words and therapy and solve their issues. (Maybe they should get a therapist to every character, too.) Or maybe not. Stay unhealthy girls, but be unhealthy to others and not each other, alright?

[avvail-whumps]

Hi!

I loved your latest chps of guns of hire. Can you write something in Roy's Pov? Especially what happened between chp 21 and 22. Kind of like what was his reaction and what his did/say to others. Even if it's in Joey's Pov or omniscient . I just want to know what was going on when Leo passed out.

Also I'm comparatively new to tumblr so idk much stuff. If any mistake happened from my side. I truly apologize. 🙂

When Leo sagged unceremoniously in his embrace, Roy felt a twinge of something, akin to annoyance, worm it’s way into his chest. He could feel his blood soaking into his gloved hand, trembling body losing all of its strength, and got to work lowering him down onto the ground.

Leo went down like a rag doll, his legs curled awkwardly under him and his body twisted into Roy’s chest.

The mercenary hummed, keeping him close as he stared at the matted blond hair under his chin, having almost lost the golden colour it had when he’d first saw him. He brushed it back, eyeing the damp sweat on his clammy forehead, breathing thin and ragged.

He was skin and bones now.

The contract had been a slow five week tale that Roy wasn’t pleased with at all. He’d wanted to put a bullet between his clients eyes simply for his arrogant attitude, and the fact that he’d attempted to weasel his way out of the initial fifty now, fifty after agreement.

Roy didn’t have it in him to deal with people like that. He didn’t think he’d ever had it in him to deal with people to begin with. Most were just money to him anyway. Maybe that was the nature of being a contract killer, but he didn’t care.

His little lion, on the other hand.

That had woven into a completely different story before he could even realise. The distinctive urge to have something, someone, all to himself for his gain and pleasure. The notion that people were little money bags with value by their head didn’t seem to resonate for Leo.

Roy hadn’t intended to keep him alive to begin with.

What had been the point? The secretary was never meant to be in that building to begin with — his client had wanted Jacob dead, and Roy planned efficiently to make that happen. His contracts weren’t meant to go awry, but the unpredictability always got his adrenaline going.

That terrified, tear filled look on his face when he’d walked out of the office had burned itself into his mind. His little pleading voice and the way he’d hesitantly obey when he was asked. Some people were a pretty picture when they had a gun to their head. The secretary had been no exception.

He knew it would have been easy to extract any information he needed out of him when he was securing him tightly to the chair in the basement. It frustrated him a little to have to put in some extra work that was above what he was payed, but he finished his contract regardless. Leo was a loose end he just needed to tie up, and he’d been wanting to use his brass knuckles for a while.

Blow off some steam, maybe.

It was a little surprising that Leo had actually been innocent. A bonified “wrong place wrong time”. Roy had shrugged and stored the information away without a second thought.

Oh well. The secretary had seen his face.

The gun was looped securely in his belt as he assured him his story checked out, deciding that he could at least give him a merciful death. Tell him to close his eyes, watch him shiver in anticipation when he pressed the barrel in between his eyes. He might have made a little desperate noise when he realised, but Roy would have been ready to pull the trigger before it could get any further than that.

But then Leo had looked up at him with something like hope in his eyes. Glimmering through the surface, just barely, like a dim fire ready to chew on more fuel. What was it he’d said again?—will you let me go?

It was then he got this thrill. A thrill straight down his spine, adrenaline sparking in his very veins. So he decided to keep him.

There was something about Leo that kept that distinctive thrill going; maybe it was truly because he was pretty when he was in pain, or maybe it was because Roy liked the idea of having something belong to him. Something that was his, and his alone, to make and break. He wanted Leo to know that too. He wanted him to believe it.

The door creaking open jolted him out of his thoughts. He craned his head round to see Joey standing in the doorway. For a man who barely reacted emotionally on his face, he could see the way his eyes widened slightly at the sight of Rafi’s mangled corpse on the ground, and Leo’s rapidly deteriorating condition.

Joey looked almost stunned into silence. “Roy, he’s...” Shuffling of feet became more apparent as the other two joined the scene. Roy ignored them, only interested in his lion. He gently scooped him up, setting him down on the bed.

“What the fuck?” Bran snapped, his jaw clenched and his eyes wide in shock. He was staring at Rafi’s body. Sean, the bearded man, looked distant, but his eyes had hardened inexplicably. “What the fuck, Roy? You fucking killed him.”

The mercenary scoffed lightly under his breath. “He deserved it.”

“He de—” Bran stopped abruptly, raking his hands through his hair. He laughed bitterly, but Roy simply got to work stripping Leo of his shirt, and tossing a silent glance to Joey and Sean. Joey was less hesitant to help than Sean, but regardless, the message was clear.

He dies, and you’re next.

“You psychotic piece of shit,” Bran snarled, anger bubbling over. “Do you think you fucking own us like you do that pathetic thing? That we have to bend to your every will?”

Roy raised a brow. He didn’t bother turning around to face him when he spoke.

“Rafi broke the one rule I gave you all,” he muttered, unable to fight the urge to stroke his finger in the crease of Leo’s brow. He was frowning hard in his state of unconsciousness, grimacing, chest rising and falling with little wheezing puffs of air.

“He ain’t fucking dead, is he?” Bran shouted angrily, hand waving through the air. Joey was fixing up an IV for him, and Sean was standing between them, eyes flickering over to Roy in discontent.

“He’s right,” he grumbled. “Rafi might have taken things too far, but he didn’t kill him.”

Bran was fuming. Practically steaming from the nose. When Roy ignored the comment and continued to admire the pained face on his lion’s features, he blew up.

“For years, we stuck our fuckin’ necks out for you,” Bran snarled, his voice spitting venom. His eyes had flared in a fiery rage. “Rafi too. And that’s how you’re gonna fucking repay us? Repay him? You’re a fucking joke.”

Roy hummed, his lips curving into a small smile. Seeing Rafi ontop of Leo upon entering the room had made him act somewhat irrationally. It had been a split second, a moment of seeing the dying struggles and convulsing body (the one that belonged to him, and only to him), and the gun was in his hand before he had a chance to stop and think.

Even if he had, the conclusion would have been the same. Rafi with a bullet in his head. Maybe it was the possessive urge to keep other people’s hand off of him. Because he’d kept Leo for himself, and no one else.

Roy gave Leo one last glance over, before rising to his feet. He turned and met Bran’s fuming gaze with a cold one of his own.

“Do you want to be next?”

Bran bristled venomously. “Fuck you.”

“Do you think that means anything?” He cut off, his eyes narrowed. “The fact that you took pity on me when I was sixteen? Do you think that makes us friends, Bran? Because I couldn’t care.”

“Of course you fucking don’t,” Bran scoffed. He was shaking his head, fists clenching and shaking. Roy’s gaze didn’t let up. “I’m out of here by the end of the week. I’m done.”

The big man surged out of the door, and with a darkened glare, Roy settled his gaze on the remaining two. “Anyone else?”

Joey looked away, and Sean had his hardened eyes pinned elsewhere. Roy made a huffing sound, and shook his head from side to side in disbelief. He ran a hand through his hair, and decided to go get some fresh air to clear his thoughts.

The violin he had brought with him was still standing against the wall by the front door. It brought a small smile to his face.

. . .

When he returned back to Leo’s room, he noticed that Rafi’s body was gone. The blood had been mopped and cleaned away, including the beer can and spillage that must have happened during his struggles.

His eyes instantly darted to the bed, where Leo was sleeping away soundly, covers tucked up to his chest. Joey and Sean had treated all his wounds as much as they could, wrapping his ribs and changing old bandages for newer ones.

His hair was still slightly damp, but all the dirt and grime had been washed out.

Roy sat on the edge of the bed, gently tangling his fingers through it. He looked calmer like this. No crease in his brow, no grimace on his face. Roy had missed his little lion while he was away.

A soft keening sound hummed in Leo’s throat, and Roy watched as his eyes dazily flickered open. They were unfocused and hazy, barely able to pry themselves open. Roy felt him stir, and his hand gently carded through his hair.

Leo clumsily looked around for him. “Roy?”

His lips twitched. “I’m here, lion.”

Weak fingers fumbled for his shirt. He shifted a little closer, watching wordlessly as the secretary’s breath quickened, and he weakly tried drawing himself closer.

“Roy...” He whimpered, choking on a tearless sob. “Please, please. Please, don’t go.”

He hummed, his eyes shimmering. He had missed this. As much as he enjoyed when Leo would have a little bit of fire lit up inside of him, the thrill always intensified when he was like this. Clinging onto him, refusing to let go. Begging for him to stay; the way he was so eager to obey him sometimes. Roy was confident that Leo didn’t even realise just how adorable he was at times.

He always reacted so nicely to his touch, leaning into it keenly without even realising, knowing he would only ever get this from him. The thrill surged.

Roy leaned down, gently cradling him into his chest. His lion kept mumbling and murmuring in that soft, broken voice of his, shaking and trembling like a leaf in the wind. He was hardly conscious, but maybe that was what made it so exciting.

“Please don’t leave me...” He whispered, his voice cracking. “Please...”

Roy’s lip twitched into a smirk. “I’m here, lion.”

Leo whined softly. “Don’t go...”

He was dragged back into unconsciousness not a moment later, and Roy gently eased him onto his back once more. He tugged the blanket and duvet over him, stroking the hair from his face with feather light touches.

As his thumb softly stroked the scarred initial on the inside of his wrist, Roy quietly thought to himself, yeah, I’m glad I didn’t kill him.

[chiarrara]

Nanami anon here. I really hope they develop Mahoro with these sorts of themes in mind. I can't believe I forgot the princess aspect of Nanami, it's such a big thing in Utena in regards to self delusion and how people end up stuck in gendered social roles. This general perspective is what's keeping me interested in Bucchigiri cuz I can see so much potential for that sort of depth. I'm so glad I could help spark this sort of discussion (it's been sorta hard to find people willing to engage with these kind of interpretations).

Hiiii Nanami anon! I'm so glad you came back!!

Yes I think this story is so interesting even just in the potential it sets up. If it doesn't deliver on that potential it could be disappointing, I guess. but it brings up a lot of interesting discussions either way, so I'm just enjoying where we are right now and the conversations going on in the criminally tiny fandom.

To be completely honest i spent a lot of time arguing with people about the literary worth of this show on another platform and it was just depressing. Nobody wanted to engage deeper than surface level appeal, and only would approach it through an extremely narrow lens of expected tropes of the type of show *they* wanted to watch, and a demand for pandering to one type of fan in a genre it doesn't even really belong to, instead of honestly approaching it for what it is and the story it's trying to tell. I've been trying to curate my experience more so I can actually enjoy myself, and interacting with the small community of people here who actually like to enjoy and analyze the show within the literary conversation it's clearly trying to have has been so much more fulfilling.

ANYWAY, I love what you're bringing up because self-delusion is such a big theme here! and specifically how it interacts with compulsory gender roles!!! Like, Arajin is trying so hard to fulfill compulsory heterosexuality, but is running away from the very masculine coded honor-through-fighting that senya and the general culture value. A lot of people suspect that his pursuit of losing his virginity is a way to make up for his self-perceived weakness and failure to uphold the masculine ideal of honor-through-fighting when he was young.

THEN when MAHORO stands up and displays that ideal, he is able to achieve it (at least for a moment). There's also discussion that if this follows Aladdin, he's going to lose the genie and some point and will have to essentially prove himself as honorable without the genie's help. This could be interesting. We'll see what happens.

So is fighting masculine coded in this show? Or is it just the height of honor? Or is fighting for the right reasons or in the right ways honorable. Because not all the fighting is portrayed as a good thing.... I'm thinking out loud here.

Anyway, Mahoro is also stuck in this gendered role obviously, but I wonder how much self-delusion will play into it. She believed she needed to use her role as a cute girl to stop the fight, but all those attempts failed. Ultimately what worked was dropping the facade, dropping the role & those tactics, and standing up to fuckface (i do not care about this man I'm so sorry lol) as HERSELF. Saying what she really thought, how she really felt about these people and the whole situation. And basically willing to sacrifice her well-being to do so. Ooooh this is so interesting!!!!

I really can't wait to see where this goes, I know I keep saying that but. It's true. I mean, Matakara could be said to have some delusions about honor. Maybe the way he sees his brother is diluted. He believes in Arajin to a fault, but he was proven correct. Although it wasn't him that sparked the change. I dunno, a lot to think about.

I'm so glad I could be an intermediary for this discussion! I don't know anything about Utena, but if y'all do feel free to talk through me lol. I'm loving this.

[gamora-borealis]

incoming rant about discussions about diet culture & body positivity i've seen online (for context, I am a fat person):

I really do appreciate people who spread body positivity and dispell myths about bmi and diet culture, but seeing people be like "well if you are craving a food that probably means your body need it!" has me a bit... concerned? like I respect the sentiment. I really do. we don't need to feel shame about what we eat. however, some of us have adhd, messed up gut microbiomes, binge eating disorder, and/or metabolic issues. like sometimes I need to tough it out and not give in to my cravings because if not I might throw up, pass out, or feel physically sick.

like, another example, I have PCOS and a lot of chronic pain. diet culture in terms of like, obsessing over calories or thinking you can't have any of a certain food is not good. however, my doctor gave me an anti-inflammatory diet plan, which is basically a packet that says "these are kinds of foods/ingredients that tend to increase inflammation in people who have PCOS or other inflammatory issues, so try to avoid these if possible" and when I do follow it I absolutely feel better than when I'm constantly eating the food that is feeding my adhd dopamine cravings. adderall sometimes helps with my ADHD binge eating, but when I ran out of it for a month because of shortages, my eating got out of control and now my gut and brain are having a really hard time adjusting back to where I was (not to mention my ADHD causes me to forget to take my Adderall a lot too 🤦‍♀️).

like, there are lots of foods being marketed to us constantly that really aren't that great for us. not that they are necessarily dangerous, but they are being made to taste as good as possible so you'll keep buying them, by corporations that do not have your health in mind. and like. if you eat "unhealthy" all the time and give into your cravings, that's okay! it's completely understandable. food is good and fun and sometimes your body does need certain things! plus sometimes the "healthier" food is wayyy more expensive or hard to make. but I just think we need to be careful making blanket statements about food when certain foods are more harmful to some of us.

like, again, we shouldn't feel shame about food or being "fat." there are fat people out there who are very healthy! however, some of us who are fat have chronic illnesses or disorders that are tied to weight gain. now, tbh our goal shouldn't be to manage our chronic illnesses or disorders so that we'll be "skinnier," the goal should be to try and manage our illnesses (as much as one is able) for the sake of our health/wellbeing. unfortunately, a lot of doctors tie weight to health, and say "oh you're losing weight the treatment plan is working!" when that really shouldn't be the indicator, or at least the sole indicator, that a treatment for a chronic illness or disorder is working. we should change that mindset. (there's so much more one could say about fatphobia in the medical field tbh).

Idk, I'm just very literal and don't like blanket statements made online without a lot of nuance or backing. I feel like there's a middle ground between obsessing over weight and dieting and encouraging people to eat whatever they want without taking other health factors into consideration.

like, even though I'm prediabetic and struggle with inflammation, I still eat sugar and carbs. but I try not to over-do it if I can (some days I just don't have the impulse control and that's alright). for example, I buy dairy-free ice cream sandwiches that have 9 grams of sugar (very low compared to most ice creams treats) and real fruit frozen pops (that have natural sugars) because my brain is always craving sugar. but they aren't as sugary as some of the other stuff out there and don't have the dairy or dyes that trigger my inflammation. I also love bagels so I eat these really yummy protein bagels. they probably have more carbs than I really need, but if I'm gonna eat a bagel for that sweet sweet dopamine hit, at least they are organic whole wheat (which is better) and the protein helps keep me full for longer. it takes research sometimes, but it can be helpful to find a middle ground between your cravings and "healthy eating" especially when you have a chronic illness or disorder you are trying to manage. but if you are struggling to find that middle ground and are just eating "unhealthy" a lot, you aren't any lesser for it. Or even if you just, never chose to try and eat "healthier," you aren't lesser for that either. you still deserve respect. we shouldn't change our diets because of judgement from others. I feel like that should be the ultimate goal of body positivity/anti-diet culture discussions.

[the-violet-galaxy]

How to "defeat Ruin", and prove to Ruin that he's wrong?

I'm still mourning the British Bean persona is gone but I guess I'll have to ADAPT AND OVERCOME hahaaasob

I'm thinking about Ruin, his attitude, and where things might go for him from here!  

Ruin is someone who believes the ends justify the means, and operates under a "for the greater good" mindset -- he's the kind of villain who takes a tangentially good cause (destroy the Creators), but is willing to cause unjustifiable amounts of collateral death to do it. And clearly, he has an ungodly ego.

And at this moment, by all accounts, Ruin has won! And he knows he's won. It's why he's so blasé talking to the others. If there is a genuine part of him that's sorry about the casualties (and at least, from the way he talks, I don't think he's lying about that,) it's far outweighed by his own self-assuredness that what he did was right. It doesn't matter to him whether he lives, dies, or is tortured now, because his work here is done.

"Everything is right in the universe now, in the dimensions."

So... What can be done about Ruin?

Ruin is still an active villain; just because he's surrendered doesn't mean he's been defeated. As long as Ruin believes he succeeded in what he was doing, he won't be truly defeated.

Ruin believes what he did was a success. That's the basis for his self-assurance. So you have to prove that he did not succeed. Killing him won't prove anything. Physically beating him or torturing him won't prove anything. (Heck, even if you made the small part of him that feels bad feel worse, it still won't prove anything.) He's perfectly willing to accept any of that!

So what can ACTUALLY knock Ruin down a peg?

I think... there need to be consequences that Ruin couldn't have possibly foreseen, which make his actions backfire in his face.

Right now, Ruin is 100% COMPLETELY sure of himself. In his mind, his plan went off without a hitch, it worked exactly as he intended, and he got exactly what he wanted. He's smug and satisfied because he KNOWS he succeeded in what he was trying to do. He won; everything that happens to him afterwards means nothing to him.

But if Ruin learns that his plan actually FAILED... (Perhaps the Creators he targeted aren't actually dead and his method to kill them only killed the DIMENSIONS around them, or the Council actually knew what Ruin was doing all this time and secretly did something to protect themselves that Ruin didn't know about, or him destroying so many dimensions is going to cause a shift that WILL actually kill all the dimensions he thought he was saving in his own sick way...)

Then Ruin will be completely thrown off his script; the smugness and self-assuredness will be wiped off his face when he realizes: he didn't get what he wanted, he was wrong, he caused "more harm than good", he FAILED. Ruin's talk of "my actions are a necessary evil but I made the world a better place in the end" would be flipped to something like "What? No... It wasn't supposed to happen this way, i-it was going to be so perfect, I was going to SAVE people in the long run, NO, THIS ISN'T HOW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO WORK!!!"

Once you rip that carpet out from under him, his tune will have to change. How will he react to being OBJECTIVELY WRONG?

However he reacts, that's his belief shattered. That's him losing.

Aaand then who knows where it could go from there. Maybe just MAYBE Ruin will want to help stop this new disaster he inadvertently caused (if anyone ever lets him move freely again.)

Whatever the case, that's how I think he could be thrown off his high horse! (I'm still a Ruin fan and even I wanted to punch his lights out every time he opened his mouth in this batch of episodes. Nothing phased him at all and he was calm for all of it, if slightly annoyed at being put in the ground. I wanna see him completely lose his composure and be rattled and distressed and shaken when his victory comes crashing down around him.)

And how this affects Solar's resurrection:

This is just far-off speculating. Because so much is up in the air right now, it's hard to theorize about Ruin's character development in the future, and it's pretty early for talks of "potential redemption arcs". But IF the story went in that direction, I think Ruin's plans going CATASTROPHICALLY WRONG would serve it well.

Right now, the thing to do is revive Solar. If Ruin's plan has NO unintended consequences, and the cast find some convenient loophole that brings Solar back at the end of this arc, then that would mean Ruin still comes out on top. He would still be assured his methods were right, and heck would you look at that, he was able to clean up the messy bits in the end after all, no muss, no fuss! He was just delayed in figuring out the magic equations that would protect the dimensions from dying, that's all!!

But if his plan backfires spectacularly and causes destruction that he could never have seen coming, then that means Ruin is thrown on his ass, his ego is crushed, and he gets to deal with the fact that he was a FOOL -- and he has to WORK to fix the disasters he's caused. If that happens and THEN Solar is revived, from methods Ruin couldn't have possibly thought of on his own, theeen boom: Ruin DID NOT win, because his methods were proven to be completely wrong to his his own face!

(If he lives that long of course. Eclipse might kill him. He might get killed when things go south instead of being alive to help. Who knows!)

(Honestly, it's just that there's a part of me that still loves Ruin and wishes he could be good. And from the small hints we've seen, there's a part of Ruin that even SOUNDS like he genuinely didn't want to hurt people, and maybe it would be possible to make him see the error of his ways. He even mumbles something about considering Solar and the others his friends in an offhanded way at one point. But whatever the case there's a long uphill road for the No Longer British Bean, Now British Asshole, wherever the show takes him.)