#I don't want it to end up anywhere where people can read it and get offended

[vevobly]

Being Natalie Scatorccio Girlfriend Headcanons (Pre-Crash) [Part 1]

A/N: This is technically my first headcanons post. But I ended up posting Jackie's first then Misty's, so yeah! Heads up for sensitive topics such as addiction, smoking, and implied/referenced terrible home.

Since Nat comes from a rough home life and doesn't exactly have the best reputation at school, your relationship is probably being kept on the down low. It's not because Nat might be ashamed of you or anything like that; she just doesn't want to drag you down with her. She already gets a lot of unwanted attention and judgment from others. She doesn't want more—especially if it affects you too.

She isn't big on public displays of affection. But you CAN catch her giving you these small, meaningful gestures! A light touch on the arm, a passing glance, or, if you smoke, she'll quietly give you a cigarette when no one's looking.

Nat doesn't open up easily. But with you? As cheesy as it might be, it's different. You're one of the very few people she can be vulnerable with when life decides to shit on her. She doesn't tell you everything, but it's fine. You understand, and you aren't going to push her to do so (unless something warrants it).

She'll call you up late at night just to talk about whatever. Sometimes she crashes at your place to avoid the bullshit she deals with at home, sleeping more soundly in your bed than anywhere else. When you bring that up, she'll either respond with something witty or sappy. And you? You'll like whatever she chooses to tell you instead of the other.

Dating Nat means late night drives in her beat up car with no clear destination! She loves going where the road takes you two, and you're always down to ride shotgun with her.

With this in mind, you two occasionally sneak off to places that are abandoned. Why? For privacy and peace, of course! Oh, and because those locations usually have great views. You can bet your ass that Nat has taken you to loads of romantic places (though she would argue that they're plain) already, talking about how shitty Wiskayok is and how you guys could escape it one day together. Neither of you are sure of anything, but it is nice to dream about, right?

Nat is VERY loyal to you. She might not say it, but she shows it by defending you in her own subtle (some of the yellowjackets would disagree with that—I think you already know who) way when people at school talk behind your back.

Of course, being Nat's girlfriend grants you the special privilege of seeing a side of her that others don't. Which is her being surprisingly sweet when it's just the two of you. She’ll let you pick the music when she's driving (even if she grumbles about your taste) and surprise you with small gifts like mixtapes or a pack of your favorite candy.

Nat's not the most affectionate, but when she is, she turns into this huge sap. Point that one out and she'll deny it vehemently. Either rolling her eyes or crossing her arms to her chest before insisting you're the one being a massive sap. Touché, you'll tell her, and then she'll start laughing; saying you're her sap.

Being together with Nat means you've got to deal with rumors about her at school from time to time. You hate it but what can you do? People will talk whatever about her whenever. While it certainly made you pissed that people do that to her, you've learned to just ignore what they say about her. You know her. You know Nat. And she is way different from how people see her. While she appreciates you defending her, she doesn't need you to. She's not a charit

When things get bad, she'll seek you out. Sometimes she'll show up at your door in the middle of the night, simply saying "I needed to see you." and you'll let her stay. Your place is always welcome for her.

Believe it or not, you're the first person Natalie tells about her frustations (usually the team or her dad). Annnnd, even though she might try to brush off her feelings; you know how to read her and help her without pushing too hard. Still, it makes her feel like a damn--

You know about her addiction. And while you always make sure she's okay, that just isn't enough. So you give her space, let her know that you will be there for her no matter what (but will you though? your relationship is just a faulty boat that's been leaking from the very start. No matter how many times you try to bail the water out, it will sink. It was just destined to). You'll always love her. You'll always love Natalie.

When she's spiraling, you'll be the one to bring her back. Nothing big has to be done, neither of you guys could care about those. Just a quiet word, a reassuring look, or being there is enough. She loves you, she really does. But how the fuck do you love her? She's a mess, and being with her brings you absolutely nothing. why. Why. WHy. WHY. WHY DO YOU LOVE HER OF AL--

If you smoke: Nat loves sharing cigarettes with you. It's almost like a ritual. You or Natalie light one up, pass it back and forth with each other while talking. You'll both sneak out sometimes during school breaks, find a secluded spot to talk and smoke freely there from everyone else.

If you don't smoke: it'll still happen. The difference is that Nat will just be the only one smoking while you'll just watch her take a drag maybe and talk with her. It's a bummer you don't smoke but Nat will take whatever company you can give her whenever.

[terrestrialnoob]

Harley crawled into the apartment. It was organized, but it looked like the occupant didn't have a lot of time for cleaning. She walked softly through it, taking it in. There were photos of her target and what had to be her family, but no friends or romantic partners. Some had a pair of older adults, matching traits meant bio-parents. More of the photos were of the target and a younger boy - a little brother, the highest likelihood of becoming another target if things go bad.

Harley continued forward, following the light to where her target was. She stood in the doorway, looking in.

Dr. Jasmine Fenton, Arkham Asylum's newest psychologist, just got her degree and everything. She did what most newbies do, actually thinking she could get through to the Joker. Harley didn't want to say it was impossible, but everyone who tried ended up in a new job or dead. Harley would try and make sure it was the former and not the later.

Harley watched as the redhead read over a file as she ate from a takeout box. She didn't want to scare the girl, yet. The scaring her away from Joker came later. So, she had to wait for the perfect moment to-

"I know you're there." Jasmine didn't look up from her file, but held out the last box of Chinese food in Harley's direction. "There's plenty if you want some."

"Awe, you ruined the surprise." Harley walked out of the shadows of the hallway into the girl's home office. She snatched the offered box of food and took a few bites as she jumped to sit on the desk.

"I'm hard to sneak up on." Jasmine said, closing her file and finally looking at Harley. "So, Dr. Quinzel, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this evening?"

"Oh, call me Harley!" She laughed, she wasn't called Dr. all that often any more. She tapped her chop sticks on the file Jasmine just closed. "I thought you'd like a consult on your new patient, Dr. Fenton. I've got a lot of experience with him."

"I prefer to go by Jazz." She said with a smile, "While I appreciate the offer, I'd like to see how far I can get on my own. And, sorry, but I'm pretty sure your license was revoked."

Harley nodded as she swallowed to get the noodles out of her mouth. "I get it! You're new, fresh outta school, gotta prove yourself. But Joker ain't the guy to do that with. He eats people like us for breakfast, and in all the years he's been in Arkham, no one's been able to get anywhere with him."

Jazz sighed, "I don't like to believe people are lost causes. There's always something we can do to help."

"You can't help everyone, especially when they don't want it. And it's not just a question if whether or not he can be saved or whatever." Harley set down the now empty box, Jazz pointed to another one that still had food in it, but Harley declined. "If you keep it up, he'll think you're worth his time to torment. There's no telling what he'll do when he inevitably gets himself out again."

"I'll be fine." Jazz said, but Harley had to cut her off before she said something stupid.

"It's not just you! You've got family out there he can target, your parents. Your Brother! Anyone you date will become a target! He'll do everything in his power to make your life miserable!"

Jazz chuckled. "If he wants to target my family, his funeral. My parents are - were supervillains. They've really only become less- well, hyper-focused on eradicating an entire race of being- in the past few years. And my brother - I'm pretty sure he's conditionally immortal. So that's nothing to worry about."

"If it's conditional, Joker will find a way around it." Harley said, but she had to admit, this might have been an unnecessary trip. "You sure y'ain't got nothing to worry about? What about you? How conditional is your mortality?"

Jazz smiled. Her mouth seemed too wide and with too many teeth. "Oh, I am nowhere near immortal. But..."

She stood up and the room was suddenly a black void. Toxic green eyes and mouths filled with glowing white teeth opened around them. "I doubt anyone could get close enough to test it."

The room was suddenly back to normal, but whatever that thing was was still there. Harley could see its eyes watching her with amusement from inside Jazz's oversized cardigan.

"Well, I guess this really was a wasted trip. You've clearly got it covered."

"Not entirely." Jazz said, her hand wend up to her neck to rub nervously, "Well, you see... I don't really have a lot of friends. People tend to get - uh, creeped out, you know? Or chased off by my parents or brother or whatever..."

"You wanna be friends?" Harley laughed so hard she almost fell over.

Jazz's face turned bright red and the shadow eyes looked way less amused. "Yeah, stupid question. You've clearly got your own things going on."

"No! No, no." Harley had to take several deep breaths before she could look Jazz in the face again. "I 100% wanna hang out with you!"

"Really?"

"Oh yeah." She took another deep breath, "I mean, I really should have made a support system before trying to take on the Joker back when I worked for Arkham. This" she pointed between them "can only end well."

Jazz's face turned brighter than the sun. "Oh my gosh! This is amazing! We should - I have Thursday's and weekends off - What - what kind of things should we-"

Oh man, Jazz was like an excited kid. She must have had a really lonely childhood... they can psychoanalyze each other later. "Come over for girl's night next week. I'll tell my gf and bff to expect an extra person... Does the-" she motioned to the cardigan creature "-go everywhere you go? Does it need food?"

"Oh, don't worry about Jet, they only eat who I tell them to."

Harley barked out more laughter. "You're going to fit right in!"

Now featuring a Part 2

[evilminji]

You knooooowwww... >.>

The only difference, technically, between a school in the Zone? And on Earth? Is the American government won't recognize your Zone diploma...

Not accredited. But like..... I'm JUST SAYING? If you didn't try to pass your school off as some Big Ivy League type? Pulled the "oh yeah, you'd never have heard of it, it's local." And the COMPUTERS say it's legit?

How many people will dig deeper?

If you legitimately have the knowledge, you legitimately have the knowledge. Not YOUR fault you left out the whole "extra-dimensional" part. It makes folk nervous! And nervous folks get stabby.

So like? If you were ALREADY planning to "Move" as you euphemistically put it? Talked it over with your VERY concerned folks and friends? Who do NOT like the look of the steady but concerning rise of Anti-Ghost Powers That Be? Who finally put their foot down and reminded you that you are a TEENAGER and it's NOT your responsibility to fix the world?

Well...

Fuck those guys, I guess. You'll miss the old house, but Team "Taking our ball and going literally anywhere else" makes some good points. Why ARE you putting up with this?

And honestly, you've never SEEN your dad have so much fun. Him and the Reality Realtor just sorta... Vibe. Himbo to Himbo communications. Smatters of advanced physics. Fudge. It's great.

They move the portal. Collapse the old one in a way that makes it impossible to recover or recreate. You... kinda don't want to ask. They had that "mad scientist glint" in their eyes.

And while everyone's checking out brochures to different realities? You? Head off to the nearest College. It's the Zone, so technically you could go to any of endless billions. But you'd like your education some time this century.

Cue! Danny Fenton! Entering?

Academia's wet dream. A sprawling CITY of a college. Where the classes are on EVERYTHING and the price is FREE. People have Obsessions okay?? They NEED to teach. Debate and discuss! Study! Right papers and read them! It's been going on a while! And what happens when you find a subject that's NOT covered?

YOU COVER IT!

It's like if New York was a College. Good fucking luck find the dorms. Sleep on the floor like the rest of us, you casual.

Danny was Not Prepared ™.

He loves it though.

Classes on aeronautics next making the perfect sandwich, shoved next to historical basketry, stacked above alien slam poetry. But only on Tuesdays! Ever shifting. Breaking his Fenton Born Adhd in to a fine PASTE to be smeared upon bread. Happy mental stimulation chemicals go Brrrrrrrr

If it wasn't wildly inappropriate, he would LICK IT to claim it as his then wrap around it and gaurd like a territorial cat. He thought he HATED school! Turns out he just hated high-school. College though? College, or at least ZONE College, is fuckin AWESOME.

He's sit in SO MANY random classes just cause.

Picked up and dropped them at a whim. When they no longer sparked joy. He's been a flighty bitch and for once? No one CARES. No one says "you HAVE to commit and stick with this FOREVER once you choose this" and? It just? It's so FREEING! He's learned so MUCH!

He's probably gonna come back!

Which? Is how a deeply, DEEPLY weird aerospace engineer from supposedly bumfuck NOWHERE, end up working at Wayne Industries. He's.... a lil crazy behind the eyes. Ha ha... CONCERNING ™!

Dude sleeps on the lab floor. Has weirdly spotty knowledge. Can be an unprecedented genius one second and not know who the current president is the next. Doesn't know what DAY it is. Forgets to eat. Tried to make a fusion reactor out of the break room toaster before Sandra from accounting distracted him with pictures of her cat.

It's like he wanders through life blissfully unaware that he is both terrifying and about three seconds from killing them all. Then FUCKING TRIPS because he forgot to tie his shoelaces again.

Who hired this man?

WHY!?

I mean, we KNOW why. Probably to put him on a watch list. But? He's like a terrifying murder puppy! Built like a tank! That's stoned out of its mind half the time. And have you HEARD his college stories? That CAN'T be legal. Was this guy raised in a cult!? Aaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!????

@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter

[girlwithalotoffeelings]

18+ MDNI

I cant stop thinking about Eren being desperate for you 24/7...

This man is so whipped for you, its actually comical.

He's constantly asking if he can put his dick in you for a little bit. He doesn't even care if you guys are actually fucking he just likes the intimacy.

He gives absolutely zero fucks about what you two are doing or where you are.

"Baby, let me stuff your pussy while you do your make-up please?"

"Come sit on my cock while I play this game."

Like just imagine...

You're on your bed laying on your stomach just minding your business, trying to take a nap, when you hear him come in. There's a few moments of silence until you feel him strip your yoga pants and panties down to rest under the swell of your ass. In your half asleep dreamy haze you feel him spread your ass open wide which makes you stir

"Shhh, just go back to sleep." You feel him stroke your hair lovingly and slip two fingers into your waiting cunt. You whine and whimper as you grow needier. A quiet whisper "Fuckkkk yesss" can be heard as his long and thick veiny cock sinks into you so deep making you feel so amazingly full as usual.

Don't even get me started on how he gets so horny for you doing mundane tasks

"Lift your skirt for me, please." Missing the questioning tone and sounding more like a demand.

"WE'RE IN A FUCKING GROCERY STORE!"

"So? No one's gonna see, I promise." You didn't even get a chance to reply before he has your skirt in hand. Pulling your panties to the side and thrusting himself violently inside you, bottoming out. You choke out a gasp at being fully impaled on him so suddenly. He kisses your temple when he hears you hiss and whimper as tears start to sting your eyes from the stretch with no prep. You shiver as you hear him mumble a soft "Such a good little whore for me," with a sigh of content in your ear. He starts moving in and out of you slowly, only stopping when another person walks into the aisle.

He let's your skirt hang around you as normally as possible, while he goes in as deep as he can and stills. Grabbing something off the shelves and putting in infront of you as if you both were reading the label. His jacket covering both your sides from view while the cart blocks your front.

The man walks past you both and leaves the aisle, without missing a beat Eren starts pounding into you again. "See, no one will know. So just be a good slut for me while I use this pussy to jerk off my fat cock, yeah?" He ended up cumming deep inside you, making both of you moan louder than you should. He pulled out and tucked himself back in his jeans pulling your panties back into place. He cups your pussy pressing his fingers on top of the cotton, and rubbed rough circles onto your fucked out hole. "Keep all of it inside, baby. We don't want people to ask questions if it starts to drip onto the floor."

How he'd just walk up to you on the couch and spread your legs while you watched you favorite show. He is very happy to see his personal fucktoy so ready for him, splayed out on the couch naked. Wordlessly laying between your thighs, taking his time to eat you out hard bringing you to atleast 3 orgasms before sitting up and sinking his cock into your needy pussy.

He whines so loud and deliciously as he buries himself to the base. He lifts your legs and pushes them to your chest, allowing him to go impossibly deeper. The scream that you let out when he starting roughly humping into you was enough to turn him into an absolute mess. He starts POUNDING that pussy so hard that he barley notices the bulge that forms in your lower belly.

But when he does tho.... he goes absolutely feral with the sight of his cockhead poking out under your skin just bellow your belly button.

He forgot what it even feels like to cum anywhere besides your wet and warm holes. Like this man straight up refuses to cum if he can't stuff it deep inside you one way or another. Even if you ask him to cum somewhere else he only agrees if he can push it into you with his fingers afterwards.

This man's moans, whimpers and whines are fucking immaculate. He is so vocal and absolutely unafraid about being heard, he is so pussy whipped he couldn't care any less if he was being too loud.

In conclusion this man has me by the neck and the pussy. I just know he's packing ONG!😫

[starrystevie]

18+ | explicit sex & smoking | read here on ao3

it's 1996 when steve's world gets turned upside down again.

or, well, technically it's a few minutes into '97 when everything changes. he's at a new years party that his ex timothy is hosting and everyone is still hooting and hollering as they ring it in, pressing sloppy kisses to cheeks and lips with arms hooked around necks.

steve doesn't get kissed. not because people aren't eyeing him with a smirk and mischief and open arms of their own. no, he doesn't let himself get kissed because something feels... off about the night. the energy is weird, buzzing through his skin like electricity, keeping him on edge in a way he hasn't been since he left hawkins for boston in the fist place.

it isn't long until he figures out why.

timmy is walking up to him with his hands on some guy's shoulders, pushing him backwards with a wide smile like he's trying to convince him of something. the guy is about his height, short cropped dark hair and a leather jacket, the sight of his back alone getting steve excited. timmy always did know his type to a t.

"hey!" timmy yells over the music as he catches steve's eye. "got someone for you to meet."

once the guy turns around, the smiles on both steve and the mystery guy's faces fall before their minds catch up with them and plaster them back together. even with the short cropped hair, even with the piercing in his eyebrow, even with the stubble spreading over his defined jaw, steve would know that face, that heartbeat, anywhere.

"steve, i wanted to introduce you to someone. jamie, this is steve, you know... the guy i was telling you about?"

timmy's trying to be helpful, not even attempting to be subtle as he pushes the two closer together with a wide grin. steve's going on autopilot, reaching out a hand to grab the one outstretched towards him, but his brain is going a million miles a minute.

"nice to meet you, steve," eddie, or... jamie, says, palm pressed tightly against his own.

steve can't say anything, focusing too much on the warmth on his palm and the way his deep voice shakes through him like thunder and the way he feels like he's 19 again with a stuttering heart.

"what are-" he starts.

eddie shakes his head and tugs on steve's hand. "not here. come on."

they end up in a secluded corner, close enough that steve can smell smoke and leather polish and the sharp bite of his cologne. close enough that he can see the lines starting to appear on the corners of eddie's eyes, the stray grey hairs popping up in his beard, the questions swirling behind his eyes.

"eddie."

"jamie," is all he says back, not even bothering to look away from steve's eyes. "it's jamie now."

they both sigh like they don't know where to start because they don't. steve grapples with all the questions in his mind before settling on one. the one that tore through him late at night. the one that stayed on the tip of his tongue anytime he heard a van backfire or metallica.

"where did you go?" he knows it sounds like an accusation because it is. he doesn't let himself feel bad when eddie (jamie) flinches.

"feds," he replies easily, sneaking a cigarette out of his pocket and putting it between his lips. he tilts his head back to light it away from steve's face, blowing smoke up towards the ceiling. "once i got better, they scooped me up and brought me to boston. new name, new hairstyle, new life. at least they let me choose my name so i didn't get stuck with some thing awful."

steve snorts. "so you ended up with 'jamie' how?"

"middle name's james. it just made sense." he says it with a shrug and puffs at his cigarette again.

they look at each other for a moment. steve watches his tongue flit out of his mouth to wet his lips, watches the overhead lights glint off the metal of a surprise tongue piercing, watches his throat swallow around nothing but spit.

he can see, feel, eddie doing the same. he hams it up, pulls his lip between his teeth and makes it a show, looks back up at eddie from under his lashes. takes in a deep breath when eddie inches closer to him until their hips are bumping and steve plucks the cigarette out of his lips for a puff of his own.

he's 19 again, in love or like or lust with a boy in a leather jacket that has the world against him. he's 19 again, working a hand over himself to thoughts of his crush who up and vanished without so much as a goodbye. he's 19 again, crying after he comes, wishing he could go back in time before he met curly hair and a battle vest.

"so how do you know tim?" eddie whispers like he has to be quiet even though the part is loud and no one could hear them if they tried.

"how do you know him?" steve asks back, blowing out smoke and putting the cigarette back between eddie's barely spread lips.

his eyes flick down to look at steve's still pursed lips from when he angled the smoke over his shoulder. "we used to fuck, once upon a time when i first got to boston."

steve hums like it's the answer he expected and maybe it is. "same here. dated for about a year."

eddies eyes grow wide and his hip bumps into steve's like it's a question in and of itself and maybe it is. "didn't know you swing that way, harrington."

"well, you don't really know anything about me then, do you? didn't back then either, munson."

his eyes goes even wider, something like fear and shame and comfort and hope swimming in them. "leonard. it's leonard now."

steve hums again, says 'jamie leonard' like he's feeling it out on his tongue. tasting it between his teeth. teaching his mouth how to form the words instead of what he really wants to say like 'eddie' or 'munson' or 'i'm still somehow in love with you no matter your name'.

"jamie leonard," he says again, breath hitting eddie's lips. he shivers when he sees his lips part a bit more like he wants to swallow the sound and air that steve gives him. "we have a lot to catch up on, don't we?"

steve's apartment isn't all that big, isn't exactly small either but it has everything he could possibly need. he has a living room that looks out over the harbor and a kitchen with all new appliances and eddie munson naked in his bedroom. you know, the essentials.

their clothes are all over the floor, eddie's motorcycle helmet flung somewhere in the vague direction of the armchair in the corner but the smack it makes when it hits the wall makes steve think there's probably a hole in the drywall.

but eddie's sucking on his cock, hands wrapped around his thighs as he takes him even deeper, eyes flicking up to meet steve's, beard scratchy as it rubs against his sensitive skin. he's never been blown by someone with a tongue piercing but he doesn't think he can ever go back now.

the last thing on his mind is wondering if there's a hole in the goddamn wall.

"oh fuck, yeah there you go. feels so goddamn good," steve breathes out as he feels the back of eddie's throat on his cockhead. he tangles a hand as best he can in his short dark hair to try and coax him even deeper. eddie hums at either the praise or the tug on his hair or the way it feels as he works his tongue over steve's cock and it makes him jolt unexpectedly.

if he could go back in time and tell his 19 year old self that eddie was alive, that he was okay and breathing and learning how to suck cock like a goddamn professional, he'd do it in a heartbeat. save himself a few years of pining and fly straight out to boston to see it for himself. he's sure robin would have preferred to not have to listen to his whining everyday about brown eyes and dark curls.

eddie brings a hand to cup his balls, finger teasingly pressing into steve's taint, bobbing his head eagerly like he wants him to come in his mouth, but steve has other plans. he tugs eddie off of his cock quickly, lines of thick spit falling between them and sticking to his chin before crowding him up against the pillows.

steve kisses like he's dying and eddie is survival. he kisses him like he is drowning and eddie is the shore that he's clawing his way towards. he kisses him like 19 year old steve could only dream about.

soon enough, steve's sliding into him with a groan that he lets eddie swallow from him. the headboard knocks heavily into the wall a few times making even more possible holes, but all steve can focus on is the heat around him, the way eddie's whines bounce off the walls of his too empty bedroom and cover him like a blanket.

he likes fucking this way. he likes being able to watch as someone's face contorts into pleasure, like to see eyes rolling back and mouths dropping open and sweat beading around their hairline. likes seeing eddie fall apart.

"steve, oh my god," eddie's voice is still deeper than he's used to as he moans so he angles his hips up more to hear it again, the low timbre snaking through his veins and leaving fire in its wake. "don't stop."

"i won't," he groans into eddie's open mouth. "wanted this for so long, for fucking 11 years, not giving you up yet."

it's a bit more open than steve normally is when he first fucks someone but this isn't just someone. this isn't fucking a stranger he picked up in a bar that had almost the right shade of brown eyes and patches on his jacket that are almost the right shape. this is eddie. his eddie. or well... jamie.

"fuck, i'm gonna date you so fucking hard, harrington. yeah, right there keep going, shit-"

he's babbling as steve works his hips faster, tangling their free hands together to press above their heads on a pillow, and it's everything steve could have asked for. hearing his name fall from the lips he's dreamed about for years, sharing the same air as they breath into one another.

he thought he was over it, thought he had moved on at least a little bit from a halfway stranger he knew in his teens, but with the way they're both looking straight into each other's eyes begging each other to see them, he thinks they might both be back in 1986.

"what do-" steve cuts himself off as he whimpers, close, so close to the finish line. "what do you want me to call you? is it jamie or-"

he's shaking his head on the pillow, leaning up to bite at steve's lips and pull it between his teeth. he looks serious and certain when he says, "no, that name's not for you, it's... i need-"

steve brings his hand down to work over his cock and revel in the way his eyes roll back until he can only see white. he hits something that makes his eyes fly back open and he gets to see his favorite shade of brown again.

"eddie," he whispers. leaning down quickly, steve presses a kiss to his ear before whispering his favorite name there too. "eddie, baby, come on. let me... come on, eddie."

it feels silly to be chanting a name of a ghost as intensely as he is. but he can see it crawl over eddie like it's bringing him back to life. like he isn't bones on the ground in an alternate dimension. like he isn't a plain headstone in a graveyard next to a forgotten trailer park. like he isn't playing pretend with a fake name and a fake life.

steve says eddie and it brings him home.

afterwards, they lay together in steve's probably too soft bed, tears drying on both of their cheeks as they catch up. as they tell each other secrets that their younger selves could never dare. as the piece together the lives they have and the lives they want to have and slot each other into the mix.

steve has a hand in eddie's hair, eddie has one trailing over steve's arm that's slung over his chest. he's always been a fan of cuddling after sex.

"y'know," eddie mutters, "tim's been trying to get me to meet his hot teacher friend for months now."

steve hums, presses a kiss to his temple. "and he's been trying to get me to meet his hot motorcycle tech for months, too."

there are a few holes in the walls from the headboard and eddie's helmet, but steve thinks that they can patch those up, too.

he's still jamie leonard to the outside world. he's still a guy who doesn't have much family other than a mysterious uncle in indiana and doesn't have many friends other than ex boyfriends. he still introduces himself with a handshake and says a fake name like it's real.

but when he gets home, when he crawls onto a couch that overlooks the harbor and has arms wrapped around him, he gets to be eddie munson once more. and with the ghost of a man in his arms, steve harrington feels more like himself than he ever thought he would.

[twilightcitysky]

Everything Is Meant (long S2 analysis, part 3)

Part one

Part two

There's SO MUCH excellent meta out there right now, and I'm going to try not to reinvent the wheel too much, but I want to keep going with tying the episodes/ elements up together because on first watch it wasn't entirely clear how everything fit. I also strongly recommend a rewatch, no matter what you felt about the ending... if you need to stop it 10 minutes early, do that, but you pick up so much more the second time around.

So: Maggie and Nina. I spent most of my first watch wondering why we were bothering with them, honestly. Later in the season Nina, and then Maggie and Nina, gave Crowley some insightful advice, but their actual relationship didn't progress despite all the meddling, and the amount of emotional investment BOTH Aziraphale and Crowley had in making them get together was frankly strange.

I started thinking in terms of mirror couples, since that was such a big deal in S1 and that's clearly what they were set up to be, but I made the mistake that all of us made on first watch: that Nina was Crowley and Maggie was Aziraphale. It still wasn't really coming together.

Then I put the psych hat back on and started to think about displacement. Displacement is a defense mechanism, and it consists of satisfying an impulse (usually an unconscious one) with a substitute object. At the beginning of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley aren't really in a good place, and I think on some level they know that. Aziraphale is trying to SHOW Crowley that he wants to take the next step through all the casual touches and phone calls and inviting him in, and feeling frustrated because Crowley doesn't seem to be taking the bait. (I absolutely think that Aziraphale tried to get Crowley to stay with him at the bookshop instead of living in his CAR, and Crowley said no. That's a whole other meta.) Meanwhile, Crowley, I think, is waiting for a Grand Gesture. Where did he go, as soon as Aziraphale brought up trying to get two humans to fall in love? Romantic tropes. Getting caught in the rain under an awning. A dramatic kiss that opens someone's eyes. That's the sort of thing he's always done, right? Big rescues, impassioned pleas on the street, fancy dinners, "give you a lift anywhere you want to go". He's defensive and guarded and unlikely to let someone in unless he's CERTAIN he won't be rejected, and Aziraphale's approaches are just too... quiet. No one's fault, they just don't speak the same language.

Then, they're handed the opportunity to make two humans fall in love, and they're both All In immediately. Look at Crowley's face when he summons the rainstorm. This is HUGE for him. Why? Because of displacement. Look at Aziraphale arranging the ball and being borderline deranged about it. They're both desperate to demonstrate what they think it takes for two people to move past their misunderstandings and fall in love. They can't do it for each other because the stakes are too high, and if either of them shows their cards unequivocally the vulnerability feels life-shattering. They're codependent and terrified of rejection and also, importantly, have no idea what they're doing when it comes to love. "Saw it in a film", Crowley says. Aziraphale's read about it in books. But they have zero practical experience.

Instead of learning to communicate, they try to say what they want to say through the medium of Maggie and Nina, up to and including the questionable moral decision to exert control over people's actions and thoughts during the ball. If I can just make this come out right, they both think, then things between us will be alright too. It HAS to come out right. They're attempting to gain some control over their own lives, over something that feels so overwhelming and shattering they can't look directly at it.

It doesn't come out right. Nina's relationship falls apart, but that doesn't mean she's in love with Maggie. While Crowley's stress-cleaning the bookshop to the music that played when Aziraphale got his books back in 1941 (just fuck me up David Arnold), they come in and tell him so. "I don't understand", says Crowley. Because it should have worked. Why didn't it work?

They tell him, of course. "You need to talk to each other. Say what you're really thinking." But here's the thing about communication: you have to learn it. You need to get the hang of expressing your feelings without blaming your partner, and separating intent from impact, and staying away from getting defensive and lashing out. No one has ever taught Aziraphale and Crowley how to do this. It's like Maggie and Nina put Crowley in front of a loom and asked him to recreate the Bayeux Tapestry. He doesn't have the skills; he's always going to get it wrong, even if he tries his hardest.

And he does try. But that's where Maggie and Nina the mirror couple, rather than Maggie and Nina the displacement relationship or Maggie and Nina the Greek chorus, come in. Aziraphale, as Nina, has just ended an incredibly toxic, invasive relationship with Heaven. A relationship that invaded every facet of his life, isolated him, and prevented him from being close to anyone else. "Rebound mess," Nina says. Aziraphale is a rebound mess. He's transferred the responsibility for his emotional wellness to Crowley. Crowley is the person he calls when he's in trouble, or (and this is key) when he wants to report a clever/ good thing he's done, or when he's bored. (At no point did Crowley reference Aziraphale calling him for a solicitous reason-- another problem.) Crowley is meant to take care of him. He forgets, I think, that Crowley is a person with his own wants and needs, just like Maggie and Nina are people with their own wants and needs who don't appreciate being messed with. (I think things would have been much different had Aziraphale BEEN THERE for Maggie and Nina's talk with Crowley, but he wasn't.)

And Maggie-as-Crowley? Lonely. Behind on rent, at risk of being evicted (it's important to note that Aziraphale saves Maggie from losing her record shop, as he couldn't save Crowley from losing his flat). Pining. Awkward. Revolving around Nina like a planet, to the extent that we don't get much of an impression of her otherwise. They realize, there at the end, that they both need to round themselves out before jumping into a relationship. Aziraphale and Crowley need that too. They need to take time apart and learn to be healthy on their own. Unfortunately they don't have the skills to get to that conclusion in a healthy way, so it all explodes in their faces and everything falls apart.

Aziraphale tries to teach Nina and Maggie to dance as a substitute for communication. Nina and Maggie try to teach Crowley communication as a substitute for the dance they've been doing around each other. That's the reason they're a part of the plot: they exist to demonstrate the way Aziraphale and Crowley might have succeeded in forging a better dynamic. Sadly, the boys' dance is too practiced and they got sucked right back into it.

It's okay, I think, that Nina and Maggie's storyline never really went anywhere. It wasn't supposed to. It's an allegory, not something that needs to stand alone.

[makkir0ll]

heyy! Can you write a prompt 48 for Kageyama? I don't know why but that prompt just looks like it' meant for him. Hope you're having a good day!

Ps: that daichi fic was so cute😭😭😭

thank you!! i'm glad you liked the daichi fic it's one of my favs. also i got extremely carried away with this bc i love this man, i hope you enjoy.

200 milestone event!

kageyama + 48 ("this is humiliating"/ "there's nothing humiliating about needing help every once in a while, my love")

kageyama had a routine.

every morning he woke up at exatly 5:45 on the dot, not a second later, or earlier. he would lay in bed for five minutes before getting up to brush his teeth for two minutes, then changing and going out the door for his morning run.

regardless of the weather, kageyama always had to have his run. whether it be pouring rain, snowing, or even the hottest day of the year. even when you stayed over at his house you would wake up to a note on the table with the words written "out for a run, be back soon. love you" scribbled in his messy handwriting that you've grown accustomed to reading.

this past week especially it had been pouring rain all morning, and you would've hoped that when your boyfriend went on his morning runs he would atleast put a rain jacket on.

that wasn't the case.

which is how you end up here, on the edge of his bed where your olympian boyfriend who can't remember to put on a rain jacket is buried under several throw blankets along with a hoodie. you can't see his face but you see some of his hair peeking out from under the covers. your hand reaches for it, gently stroking your fingers through his silky locks and he leans into your touch.

"come on tobio, sit up i need to check your temperature." you plead, thermometer in hand as you continue to play with his hair. with a groan, he sits up. you reach behind him to adjust the pillows so he can sit up comfortably. you look at him and his cheeks are flushed from hiding under his covers and his hair is a mess. he looks tired and your heart aches to see your boyfriend like this.

"i'm not sick." he lies, crossing his arms as a pout appears on his face. he hated this feeling, he hated when people looked down on him. he wasn't sick he was perfectly fine.

"sure tobio, you're literally shivering under five blankets" you state, you can feel his body tremble near you. "open your mouth" you say, your hand that held the thermometer going closer to his face. with furrowed brows he opens his mouth and lets you place the tip of the thermometer inside. he closes it tight to make sure to not let any cold air get in. your hand reaches for his under the cover, interlocking your fingers as your thumb rubs comforting strokes above his as you patiently wait for the thermometer to beep. the back of your other hand goes to his forehead and down to his throat to see how hot he was and he was burning up.

when you hear the thermometer beep you take it out of his mouth, inspecting the temperature and your eyes go wide. 39.1 celcius (102.38 fahrenheit). "holy shit" you say under your breath.

"how much is it?" he asks, trying to lean over and get a glimpse of the numbers on the device.

"39.1" you say, getting up to go to the kitchen and he reaches out for you, grabbing onto your t-shirt to hold you back. you chuckle at his actions, he seemed to be a bit clingier than normal.

"where are you going?" he asks, grip on your shirt getting tighter, not wanting to let you go. your hand goes over his, attempting to loosen his grip which you succeeded to do.

"i'm just going to the kitchen, i'm not going anywhere don't worry." you say softly walking out of the room to come back with a bowl of ice water, a clean washcloth, medicine, and an clementine.

you sit back down on the bed, putting the items you brought in on his bedside table. you take the washcloth and dip it in the cold water and wring out the excess before folding it into a rectangle and placing it on his forehead. his breath hitches at the feeling of the cold cloth but he sighs and relaxes at the cool sensation, sinking into his pillows.

"have you eaten anything?" you ask, reaching out for his hand again and you take notice of how his eyes are starting to close. he nods his head no, to which you reach over to the clementine you brought in and he whines at your actions.

"what's the matter?" you ask, trying to stiffle your laughs.

"'m not hungry." he says pouting.

"you need to eat something before i give you the medicine." you try to reason with him. he gives it a moment of thought before deciding that he needs to get better sooner rather than later.

you reach over to grab the clementine, peeling it gently to make sure you don't let any of the juices leak out and get all over your hands and his bed. your put the peel on the table, making a mental note to pick them up when you go back to the kitchen. you grabbed an clementine because you knew he wouldn't be that hungry but he had to eat something, you weren't going to give him medication on an empty stomach. also the citrus will make him feel less gross, the sweet juice making him feel better. you grab a piece of the fruit and bring it to his mouth. with his cheeks flushed red, shy due to your caring actions, he takes the fruit into his mouth. you continue these steps and once he finishes the fruit you take the washcloth from his forehead to resoak it and place it back. his body temperature was starting to cool down slightly.

you go back to the nightstand, opening up the medicine and reading the instructions before popping out a pill and handing it to him with a glass of water. he pops the pill in his mouth before swiftly taking a sip of water and handing it back to you.

you start to clean up the clementine peels when you hear your pouty boyfriend mumble something, you turn to him with a quirked brow. "you need anything tobio?" he shakes his head no, and you continue your actions before you hear him say,

"this is humilaiting." he says, a little bit louder and sinking in deeper into the covers, almost as an attempt to hide away from you. you know tobio, he likes to do things by himself, and he doesn't like the feeling of being weak, unable to do anything as simple as take care of himself when he's sick.

kageyama took pride in being the one to take care of you. to help you put on a new necklace because the clasp was hard to grip with your new nails. to clean the kitchen when you made him a nice home cooked meal after coming back home from an away game. to push your feet back under the covers before he left the house to go on his morning run, not without giving your forehead a kiss of course. to be the one to pay the rent in the apartment the two of you now share, to be able to take care of the bills. it filled his chest with pride. and not being able to take care of himself with such a simple task as remembering to put on a rain jacket, well he felt sort of shameful.

with a soft smile gracing you features, you lean over him and cup his cheek. you move the wet washcloth a little bit off his forehead to present some of his skin to you as you press a kiss to his now cool forehead, some water droplets sticking to your lips. his hands come to your hips and rub soft circles, sort of as a silent plea to not let go.

"there's nothing humiliating about needing help every once in a while, my love," you say, pressing another kiss this time to his cheek. the term of endearment turning his ears a bright shade of red as you adjusted the washcloth to cover his whole forehead again. "now, why don't you sleep okay? i'll be right back" you tell him, getting up to throw away the clementine peels.

as kageyama dozes off, he feels your body lay down next to his, tucking him in better into the layers of blankets on top of him. he realizes that maybe it's okay to be taken care of, especially when its you.

[fbfh]

Hello, a request please, how does Leo react if he discovers that his girlfriend (reader) is a minor goddess, daughter of Poseidon and host (Percy goes into brother mode)

disclaimer that I haven't read the kane chronicles yet and don't feel like I really know enough to write about that so this will be more focused on the whole minor goddess thing bc I LOVE this ask.

You're a minor - and very new - goddess, so most people haven't even heard of you. Your dad is poseidon, and your mom is a sweetbay magnolia dryad, so your dad ended up entrusting you to watch over the coast, and everyone who lives there. Anywhere the water meets the land is your domain. It's a pretty niche job, but you have fun quietly tending to the plants and animals, all the little otters and beavers and water birds. you especially loved the long island sound near camp half blood. eventually you asked your dad if you could stay there, pretend to be a normal teenager for a while. he thought of your brothers, Percy and Tyson, and decided that was a good idea. So he talked to Chiron and sent you over, informing Percy he has another half sibling. Even though it was a little rough at first, you bonded with him so fast, turning into the dynamic brother sister duo you'd both always hoped for.

then you met Leo.

He fell first, and he definitely fell harder. Leo has been enamored with you, practically drooling over you since day 1. Of course this really didn't do much to fix the occasionally tense relationship between him and Leo - if anything it exaserbated it more. You never really outright told Percy what you are, he just sort of... pieced it together over time. You were a little scared to tell him. You were scared of how he'd react, that he'd be mad at you for lying or hate you for what the other gods have put him through. You can still remember sitting at the bottom of the lake with him, watching the sun set from underwater.

"Percy, I need to tell you something. I just- I don't want you to be mad at me."

that got his attention.

"It's about- um- it's about me... who I am. What I am." You'd continued, the horrible knot in your stomach eating away at you, getting bigger and bigger. your pulse raced and your hands shook. He looked over at you, but you kept your eyes firmly on the surface of the water, glowing coral and green in the fading light.

"I know what you are."

he had said it so surely, your heart sunk.

"You're my sister."

you looked over at him, and he knew that if you were on the surface there would be tears prickling in your eyes. You sputtered something and he cut you off, his new york accent getting stronger as he felt a surge of older brother protectiveness through him.

"you're my fuckin' sister." You looked at him and saw everything else he wasn't saying. you're my sister, and that's it. I don't care what else you are, because I'm your brother and you're my sister and that's all I care about.

Ever since then you'd started feeling a little more comfortable about your status as a god. you didn't hide the way certain birds and animals would flock to you, or how just being near the water made all surrounding plants flourish. and eventually, with percy's unspoken support, you decided to tell Leo. You've been going out with him for long enough where you already know most of each other's secrets, and you just feel like it's time. You're walking along the coast, your hand entwined with Leo's warm one as he plays with your fingers.

"Did I- uh, did I ever tell you about my mom?"

You hadn't, and Leo's intrigued. He knows about your dad - hell, he's even met him once. But you never mentioned your mom. You start telling him about her and he listens with rapt attention.

"She's great with plants, too. She's, uh... a dryad, actually. Lives in a sweetbay magnolia tree."

You're quiet for a moment, hoping he'll put two and two together. You see a million thoughts and realizations and emotions flash through him so fast you'd miss it if you blinked. Then finally, he nods.

"So you're..."

"Yup." You say softly. "In charge of the coast. Where land meets sea."

A frog hops over to you and you smile, bending down and scooping him up. He puffs up his throat proudly, and you pet him a little. Leo watches you as you two continue to walk leisurely. The sun hits the water and the trees, basking you in a glittering light and soft shade at the same time. And it makes sense, he thinks. this little strip of land full of plants and animals, where you get your ankles splashed by the tide and get sand between your toes... you look at home here. And you are. Leo realizes that every time you've taken him on one of your little walks like this, you've been inviting him into your world without him even realizing it. it fills him with a sense of warmth and awe and gratitude like nothing he's experienced before. and in that comfortable silence, you know he has your back. Besides, he's sure Percy would kick his ass if he didn't.

[somber-sapphic]

HEY could you please do a jj and emily x reader sickfic 🫶

Cabin Fever

〖Summary: You're sick and are stuck on a jet.〗

〖Word Count: 1.4k〗

〖Pairing: Jemily x Sick Reader〗

〖Notes: Criminal Minds is my current obsession so I am perfectly happy to write this. In the future though if people throw in a prompt or two I can probably create a fic that's more suited to what you want :)〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You had started to get sick two days into the case and were incredibly glad that this Unsub had been so easy to catch. With enough cold medicine and tea, you’d been able to stave off the worst of your illness for just long enough to put a killer behind bars. 

Your girlfriends had noticed. The whole team had noticed. Even Garcia had been able to hear your congestion over the phone. You hadn’t really been trying to hide it. You were one of those people who got mushy when you got sick, you wanted to be held and taken care of. 

Had you been home you would have jumped at the opportunity to be coddled but you were working and with work came a more professional relationship with your girlfriends, even if you were sharing a room. But with work came responsibility and all that. 

Now at least you got to go home. You didn't have to look at the faces of dead people or interrogate psychopaths, you could just relax. The box of tissues in front of you was quickly running out with a small pile forming in a plastic bag beside you. Next to the box was a bottle of hand sanitizer, mostly there for Spencer’s peace of mind. The book you were reading had been set aside in favor of an audiobook and headphones, it was just too difficult to focus on the blurry words. 

You’d been given occasional worried looks from the team and Hotch had set a mug of tea down in front of you about an hour ago, but you hadn’t touched it. As nice as the warm liquid would probably feel on your throat you just couldn’t do it. The idea of putting anything into your body made you nervous. It was normal for you when you were sick. Plus, you hated tea.

JJ, noticing that you were getting worse, stood from her spot on the couch beside Emily and walked over to you with a soft warm smile on her face. That was a common expression when she was worried but trying to act like she wasn’t.

“Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?” she asked, slipping into the seat beside you. You glanced over with glassy eyes and offered a tiny smile, desperately wanting to be anywhere but in the air. The pressure on the plane was wreaking hell on your sinuses, your head and face throbbed, and each jolt of turbulence was like a knife in your skin. 

“Don’t feel great.” You admitted, your voice croaky and quiet. The blonde’s face twisted into a look of sympathy, and she reached out to take one of your shaky hands.

“Why don't you go sit with Em? She’s just reading a book; I don’t think she’ll mind some company.” She offered, glancing around at the mess around you. Her crystal blue eyes lingered on the ice-cold mug for an extra second longer than the rest. You could see the gears in her head turning but you weren’t sure where they were going. She knew from experience that you would not be consuming any hot leaf juice.

Emily looked up at the sound of her name, seeming as though she had no awareness of the situation prior. She was deep into a book that seemed to be in Russian which had probably captured her full attention. It wasn’t her best language, so she was taking every opportunity to get better. Mostly to beat Reid. The two apparently had a silent academic challenge thing going.

“Uhhh…” She hesitated, never having been one who really knew how to take care of sick people. The woman had very little experience with being taken care of, so she wasn’t always the best at it. It didn’t matter to you, you wanted her to hold you of course but you really didn’t need anything else.

JJ shot her a look that said, ‘do it or I’ll end you’ and Emily quickly scrambled into a sitting position so that you could take over most of the couch. She opened her arm and beckoned you over, hugging you tight when you crawled into her lap.

You sniffled thickly and a pained moan escaped your lips. Every part of your body ached and lying down seemed only to make it worse. Emily frowned down at you, not entirely sure what to do. JJ had wandered over to the back of the plane, going through the fridge to find something.

The others were all doing their own thing, collectively ignoring you. That was perfect because you really didn’t want attention from them. Especially not the facts. Never before had you been so glad that Reid was asleep.

“What can I do?” Your girlfriend muttered, lowering her voice for your benefit. You shrugged and shuddered, curling up more tightly against her. It didn’t soothe the pain in your muscles, but it temporarily stopped the shivering which made the pain worse.

Emily grabbed the blanket at your feet and pulled it up around you, doing the best that she could not to jostle you too much. She looked back over to JJ who had procured what she wanted and was (thankfully) returning to help.

“Sit up for a second love.” The media liaison coaxed, pulling you up gently with the help of Emily. She produced two small pills and your favorite color Gatorade, suppressing a smile at the amusement on your face. You were surprised that they had it, the only thing that you would drink when you were sick.

With little hesitation you took the pills, wondering why you hadn’t done so earlier. The fever that was currently doing the most damage probably had something to do with it, for some reason, you’d completely forgotten that things like Tylenol existed and had settled for cough medicine instead.

“Now, lay back down for a bit. We land in a few hours, try to get some sleep. I’m going to go work on wrapping some case notes up with Hotch, just take a nap on Em, okay?” She bent forward and kissed your hot dry forehead, mentally noting your temperature. Emily looked mildly alarmed but nodded when you turned to her, signaling that it was okay.

“Do you uh, want me to read? In English of course. It’ll be good to practice some translation.” she asked, patting the book that she had put to the side. You coughed quietly and rested your head in her lap, snuggling close. The worry melted off of her face and she rested one of her hands on the side of your head and began to stroke your cheek.

“If you want. M’just gonna lay here.” You mumbled, grabbing one of her legs to hug. Some part of you worried that she would leave and didn’t quite connect the facts that one she would never do that and two there was literally nowhere she could go.

“Alright. You rest, let me know if you need anything.” You closed your eyes as she picked her book back up and began to read silently, missing the smile from JJ. She’d been watching the exchange from afar, waiting to jump in just in case Emily fumbled it.

It wasn’t that she didn’t have faith in the profiler, it was just that she could be so incredibly awkward sometimes and JJ knew that what you really needed right now was someone to hold you. She itched to jump in and lie on your other side but the quicker she got her work done the better it would be when you finally got home.

“Everything okay?” Hotch asked, following JJ’s gaze. The blonde shook herself slightly and looked back down at the papers, sighing softly.

“Yeah. They’ll be okay. It’s probably the flu, I’m not sure if they got a shot this year. It’s been busy.” She breathed, dragging a hand across her face. The boss nodded sharply and returned to the work in front of him, not requiring any further explanation. That was good enough for JJ.

She went back to her work in silence, glancing up every so often to make sure that you and Emily were okay. While you felt like crap and the pressure in your body wasn’t allowing any level of comfort you knew that eventually you would. But for a while, you’d happily let yourself be cared for by these two wonderful women.  

[a-d-nox]

pac/pap: message from your secret admirer

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: message from your past lover/crush

masterlist of pap/pac posts

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

pile 1

they lack self-confidence to get close to you - they might even not trust themselves around you. they might fear acting up or looking foolish around you. they are very apprehensive about taking action and you not accepting them as they are.

they find your personality very sexy. it's like they enjoy when someone takes charge - you don't mind taking up space and making your presence known and they adore that. your ambition, drive, and authoritative personality is addicting to them.

of course, they find you attractive - they worry that you don't find them attractive... they think that you won't take a chance on them and that you might not be open to a relationship/date with them because of how they look.

you are supportive. maybe you supported them or encouraged them in some way, or maybe they have seen how you interact with the people you care about. they can tell that you are a genuine person.

its wild; i feel like this person has a very active imagination. they might dream of marrying you or what being married to you would be like. they like the idea of walking with you on their arm. i feel like they wonder if they wait long enough and linger in the background that perhaps you will make the first move. they really like you. they think about the timing very often - they believe that you are the one for them. they really hope that you feel the same and are attracted to them. this is beyond lust for you - they love you.

pile 2

this is going to be a by chance meeting - you aren't going to run into each other everyday. you'll have a very positive few days with this person then it will be one of those things where it's like do you or don't you. perhaps this will be a "the one that got away" moment.

i feel like the connection is moving too quick for there to be much visibility into whether or not they even know much about you. so this connection has to make its own hold pattern - slow down a learn a bit more about each other. if someone peaks your interest, ask for their number.

i feel like you are out of your element with this connection. you don't see your beauty like they see it. you probably don't think they are attracted to you. you just need some confidence - trust that you are beautiful and make your move; stop waiting for masculine energies to make the first move.

they see that you lack confidence despite you being pretty and deserving attention. you are careful about what you do and what you say - this intrigues them. they are so curious about what you would say/do if you had the confidence to do so.

i feel like, unfortunately, no one will make a move in this situation. so you will keep to yourselves and spend time in solitude. stop thinking about what could have been and make it happen. you don't have to be unhappy with your present circumstances. start making a shift in your beliefs. you can put an end to your feelings of loneliness; you just have to change your mindset - abundance awaits you.

pile 3

they doubt themselves around you. i feel like you are rather close to them in their day-to-day life, but they don't think they can gain your attention. they tried - believe me, they have, but they just don't feel they are getting anywhere like they hoped they would.

they have been getting to know you for quite a bit of time. they love how passionate you are about the world around you. they also enjoy that you are building something for yourself.

you are very lovely to them. you are just at the beginning as your beauty journey too - you are going to continue to blossom and bloom.

you hold back which intrigues them. you can resist what others indulge in, which attracts their interest. you celebrate the small wins in very minimal ways, which they adore.

something is changing in the near future. you have to accept this connection as it is - i feel like you guys could be great for one another in the romantic sense, so why not try it? you can build a future together. this person wants to help you to grow in new and exciting ways. pay attention to subtle hints and messages from those around you. communication, fresh perspectives, and opportunities are ahead of you.

[thrumbolt]

So, I cancelled Nyxlin Week and deleted the event blog. Edit to clarify: I DELETED THE BLOG MYSELF! IT WAS NOT TAKEN DOWN BY TUMBLR BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY THERE WAS NOTHING ON THERE THAT WENT AGAINST TOS.

I originally wanted to do this event mainly because me and Copy have a bunch of Nyxlin art planned anyway and that way we could also encourage some more content out of a few other peers.

I expected SOME people to get miffed, maybe some angry anons, some hate posts, because we all know this fandom has lost all its hinges somewhere long ago (if it ever had them) and people are absolutely incapable to just ignore something they don't like. At first we thought a super silly banner might help against that, but clearly that was a big lapse of judgment on my part lol Either way, I wasn't too worried because there's nothing people can really do that bothers me and once the event would roll around everyone would realize there's nothing actually sinister about it, so I figured it would be fine.

What I did not expect, however, was the absolute insane behavior that ended up taking place, where people got targeted and their posts mass reported to take advantage of tumblrs shitty report system over absolutely fucking nothing. People who were not even involved in the event, just happened to write for the same pairing. So let me ask this very plainly: What the fuck is wrong with you? Because something definitely is and I hope you all are getting it checked out.

So I decided to call it quits because people getting hurt over it is obviously not worth it. And again, no wonder this fandom lacks a nice variety of artists who participate in events. What's the point? You canon obsessed pea-brained pearl-clutchers don't understand fan spaces or creativity. All you seem to be here for is virtual signalling, hate, bullying and demonstrating a severe lack of reading comprehension. I've had months of this high school bullshit now and I've really had enough.

I'm still gonna post my art (oh and all that Nyxlin stuff is not going anywhere, don't worry), but I am taking a step back from participating in fandom weeks and fandom discourse and whatnot. You guys can rip each other apart on your own.

[yuukiiqwq]

Dandelions: Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

His heart beats only for you while yours beats for someone else, so he made a wish on a dandelion, hoping it would come true.

Context/Warnings: Fem!Reader, Soft!Sukuna, swearing, unrequited love, flower language, a bit suggestive

Wc: 2.7k

Part 2

It's not like he wanted to fall in love with you. It was actually your fault. You weaseled your way into his life and then his heart. If only you had left him alone, then none of this would have happened. But you were too god damn stubborn to leave him alone. It was all your fault.

It was so stupid how he fell in love with you. Sukuna absolutely hated cliché stuff. And here he is going through the stereotypical cliché plot. He even told you how much he hated it. He remembers telling you how he rather die than read those stupid romance books you like to read. They were full of stupid plot with disgusting mushy feelings. Basically, it's the same thing in every story. He always felt like his ears were going to fall off listening to you talk about those stories. Recently, you started to read this one-shot called Dandelion. Something about a guy having unrequited feelings for a girl for years and the girl liking someone else.

Absolutely fucking ridiculous.

Sukuna remembers how he met you. It was a few years ago, back when they were still in school. He was minding his own business and then you fucking popped out of nowhere. He wouldn't tell you but you scared the shit out of him when you suddenly appeared.

"Yknow, smoking is bad for you."

He turned around to see you at the door smiling.

"Y'know, not minding your own fucking business is bad for you," he scoffed. "Get out of here. This is my spot."

You walked up to him and snatched the cigarette away. You tossed it onto the ground and put out the light.

"They can cause many health problems," you say as you crossed your arms. "And I don’t see your name anywhere on this rooftop."

He glared at you– "Listen here, you brat. What I do has absolutely nothing to do with you. So skip along to your friends and go bother them instead."

"What if you are my friend?" You said smugly. Your eyes were shining with mischief. "And since you said to go bother my friends, that's what I'm doing."

"You must think you're so fucking funny," he snarled at you.

You put your hands on your waist– "I am actually very funny."

He took a step towards you and towered over you. "Leave."

You looked up at him with a deadpan expression.

"No."

"Last warning. Leave."

"Make me."

News flash – He wasn’t able to get rid of you. He was unsuccessful no matter what he did.

You decided to bother him every single god damn day. Somehow, you always showed up at the rooftop whenever he was there. You just wouldn't leave him alone, so he decided to ditch the rooftop. To say he failed was something he didn’t want to admit. He didn't fail. He just decided to ignore you. But then you showed up in front of his classroom. You somehow found his classroom.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance and quickly tried to leave before you could catch up to him.

Mission escaping the brat– failed.

You were a fast little thing. You immediately caught up to him and were now walking side by side with him. This caused a lot of people in the hallway to stare at both of you. You two were an unexpected duo to see together.

"Sukunaaaaaaa"

Great. You even found out his name. Amazing. Whoever told you his information is dead. He's going to kill them.

"Sukuna, if you keep looking like that, you'll end up being super ugly. No wonder you don't have a girlfriend."

Sukuna turned around to face you– "You trying to pick a fucking figh–"

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence as you stuffed a mochi in his mouth. Where the fuck did that mochi come from?!

He quickly chewed the mochi and swallowed.

"Did you fu–"

"Was it good?" You quickly interrupted. "It's a new flavor that came out recently. A friend gave me some to try."

"I don't car–"

"It was a limited edition sale. My friend camped outside the shop for a whole day just to buy all the stocks."

You continued talking about it, and Sukuna wanted to just smack you. You were so annoying.

"I am going to smack you if you keep talking."

You immediately stopped talking and walking. You looked up at him and grinned mischievously.

"Wow, Sukuna. Didn't know you were kinky like that. It's ok, though! I like it rough, but take me out to dinner first. Bedroom activities can come later~"

This caused him to explode in anger. You were teasing him. He immediately stomped away from you. He could hear you laughing as you tried to catch up to him. Fuck. You were annoying as hell. Sassy and challenging him in every way.

Your eyes were gleaming with mischief. Did you have to say that? Now he wanted to put you in your place. Bend you over under him and–

Oh fuck. Now you implanted a curse in his head. Fucking minx.

After months of you constantly pestering him, he grew used to your presence. He started to enjoy it. Wait, no. He meant he was just tolerating you.

Yeah. That's right. He's just tolerating you.

"Sukuna! Stop!!!"

Sukuna immediately halted– "What's goin–"

"You almost stepped on some dandelions," you say as you knelt down to the floor.

Sukuna felt like he was going to pop a vein. He can't believe you stopped him for a weed. Can you let he walk to a restaurant in peace?! It was fucking Saturday. He should have never allowed you to follow him home back then.

"Are you fucking joking with me right now?" He looked down at you as you pluck the dandelion. "You stopped me for a fucking weed?"

"First of all, it's a flow–"

"It's a fucking weed."

"It's a flower!" You huffed. "And it's a wishing flower! You make a wish and then blow away the seeds!"

"Great, now you've gone crazy. Just the thing I need from you. As if you're not annoying enough."

"I have not gone crazy! People make wishes on dandelions!"

"And do you know if any of them got fulfilled?" He raised his eyebrow at you. "And I'm sure the people you talk of are kids."

"Well um–" You try to think of something to say as a comeback but come up with nothing.

He smiled smugly– "That's what I thought."

"That's not the point!" You quickly shoved a dandelion in front of his face.

"Get that weed away from my face. I'm starving for food, and you're stopping me for a weed."

"Geez, stop being a party pooper," you sulked. "Make a wish! Maybe it will come true and prove you wrong!"

"I am not going to do something so childish," he said as he pushed your hand away.

"I'll buy lunch!"

Sukuna stopped and thought about it for a second before saying– "And dinner."

If he was going to indulge in your childish antics and look like an idiot, he better get something out of it.

You reluctantly agreed, and he snatched the dandelion out of your hands. He made a wish and then blew the dandelion seeds away.

"There. Made my wish. Now I hope your wallet is ready."

"Whatever, you glutton! What did you wish for?"

"None of your fucking business brat."

The two of you spent a lot of time together. You eventually introduced Sukuna to your other friends. Which surprised Sukuna because at this point, with the amount of time you came and bothered him, he believed that your friends were imaginary.

A girl named Shoko Ieiri, who looks like she's sleep deprived. A guy named Suguru Geto, who, in his opinion, looks weird. Why is he smiling like that!? And finally, a guy named Satoru Gojo. He was the worst out of all your friends. He didn't do anything to him, but just looking at him makes Sukuna want to get rid of him. Cut him in half. Sukuna didn't understand exactly why until he looked at you, looking at him.

Although Sukuna personally knew nothing about love, he knew what he saw. He seen enough people do what they do when in love. He heard enough about the stupid love stories you like to read. He can see it in your eyes when you look at your friend. You liked him.

The way your eyes light up whenever he comes toward you. The way your cheeks start to turn red with a small blush. The way you nervously play with your hands. The smile you give whenever you're around him. A smile that can rival the sun. He felt a pain blossom in his chest as he clenched his fist. These are things he has never seen or gotten from you before.

He hated everything that was going on right now. He hated the way you would sneak glances at him when you think no one was looking. The way you lean into his touch. The way you looked at him with pure adoration and love.

He absolutely hated it.

It took a while for Sukuna to understand why he hated Gojo so much. Why just the sight of Gojo annoyed him. And it's all your fault.

He didn't even know when these feelings started. Was it when you guys first met and you stood your ground with him? Was it when you teased him? Was it when you kept bothering him? Was it when you guys would go out for lunch or dinner together? Was it when he took care of you when you were sick? Did he fall for your looks? Your personality? Was it because of the times you've spent together?

Fuck. He was pissed. Here he is, catching those disgusting mushy feelings for you. Something he sweared would have never happened, and he doesn’t even know how it even happened.

"Fucking hell," Sukuna sighs as he run his hand through his hair.

It should be fine, right? He'll just ignore this. Move on like he didn't realize he fell in love with you somewhere along this journey. These feelings won't last anyway. It will disappear soon. You liked someone else, too, so it should be easy to move on. Right?

Fucking wrong. He's never been more wrong in his life.

All of you have graduated and are now doing your own thing. You all meet up regularly to hang out. Although Sukuna made an effort to see you daily as much as possible–

Wait, no. Correction: He sees you daily because he knows you'll do something stupid if he wasn't watching over you. Nothing else, really.

It's not like Sukuna had trouble moving on. He's not dreaming about you daily. He doesn't want you. It's not like that at all. He obviously moved on from you while you still liked Gojo. No point in these feelings since they're a nuisance.

Deep down, even if he ignores it, he knows he still likes you. But it's not like you'll ever look his way like the way you look at Gojo. Unless an opportunity arrives and it just so happens to arrive. That opportunity came knocking at his door, and he isn't going to let it slip away.

After years watching you love someone else, now he is watching you get your heart broken by that same person. Honestly, he never understood why you fell in love with this guy. That guy was a child in a man's body. Like, who even drinks those sugary, coma-inducing drinks??

But here you are smiling through the pain. He saw small tears forming in your eyes before you quickly wiped them away and said there was dust in your eyes. Others may not notice it, but he does. He saw the hurt in your eyes when Gojo told them that he fell in love at first sight with someone.

Great. Now he wants to murder Gojo even more now for hurting you.

However, he can't help but feel happy? Relief? He doesn't know what he felt. He just knew that an opportunity was given. But he isn't going to be a shitty person and confess to you right when you got your heart broken. He'll wait until you heal. If you ever will. After all, he had already kept his feelings to himself for years. What's wrong with waiting a bit more?

He could make you happy. He would give it his god damn all to make you happy. He would never hurt you. He wouldn't make you cry. At least not cry in a sad way. You crying under him, though, is a different story–

He quickly shakes his head to get rid of that thought. He's getting distracted. You got him wrapped around your fingers, and you don't even know it. He couldn't help but sigh. He really is still in love with you.

He watches as you and Geto try to give Gojo advice on how to win over the person he likes.

"You're an idiot," he interrupted.

He stared at Gojo as he said it, but it was meant for you and himself, really. Both of you two are idiots. Both of you have unrequited love, like in those shitty stories you read. He really is living in the stupid cliché plot he hates. And it's all your fault.

A few months have passed since then. He knew you had mostly moved on. He can still see the hurt sometimes, but it's fading. He knew he should make a move soon. After all, if he doesn't, what if someone else approaches you? But he also knows that just because you moved on doesn't mean you'll see him as he sees you. So he's willing to wait for that day. The day you look at him the way he looks at you.

So here he is. Standing in front of a flower shop. Looking extremely out of place. If you told his past self that he fell in love with you and is now trying to pursue you, he can see his past self attempting murder. He really can't believe he's going to order flowers.

He took a few deep breaths and walked in.

The minute he walked in, a florist greets him– "Hello sir! How may we help you today?"

"Can you make me a boutique?"

"Of course, sir! What type of flowers would you like for the boutique?"

He wanted something to convey his feelings and message. He's done some research about flowers and their meaning. Many websites showed different things, but he eventually settled for one.

"I want..."

When he finally finished ordering the flowers, he went home. On his way back home, he noticed a dandelion.

"...it's a wishing flower! You make a wish and then blow away the seeds! ...People make wishes on dandelions!"

He stared at the dandelion for a few minutes before he clicked his tongue. He bent down and plucked it. He then made a wish and blew the seeds away. He didn't know why he did it. It's not like the dandelion would make his wish come true.

"Tsk. Can't believe I did this. It's fucking stupid."

You really made him a god damn softie so it's about fucking time you take responsibility.

A few days later, he asked you to meet him at your usual spot. A place that only the two of you knew. When he arrived with the boutique, you were already there. You were sitting on the bench, looking over the city.

He quietly stared at you for a while. You were so beautiful sitting there. If angels did exist, you'll be one of them. But then again, your personality was more like a devil. You cast a curse on his heart, and honestly, he didn't mind it. You can curse him for his entire lifetime as long as you accept him.

"Hey, brat. Look behind you."

When you heard the sound of his voice, you quickly turned around. You looked at him and smiled until you noticed the boutique in his hand. You gasped as your eyes widened.

Red chrysanthemum and astilbe. I love you and I will be waiting for you.

[darylbae]

Always read your fics and enjoyed them from afar , , why not send a request ! ^^ Don't feel pressured to write this too this is a little weird now that I read it over and sorry for the long req ! ! >< Could you write some an angsty or fluffy oneshot of a reader infected with the deadly flu during (i think) early season 4 and Daryl determined to cure her of the sickness. Them both having conversations between the glass of the prison where the reader is just at the point of giving up and accepting they'll die by this flu and Daryl is trying to give them hope. There's the scene with the group who went to the veterinary (..?) college/university to grab medicine for Hershel to use where they find out Bob didn't grab shit and Daryl just goes off at him because the reader was so kind and generous to him wdym you only grabbed BOOZE?? And then it ends with the reader who's cured of the flu, running into Daryl's arms both relieved and happy that they can finally hold each other again. Which ends in Daryl showering them in kisses because yay they're cured ! The idea just came to me while I was laying at the beach, "If the reader, his lover, was infected by the flu how much more angry would Daryl be with Bob when he only grabs alcohol?"

quarantine — daryl dixon

in which the flu catches up to you, and daryl is stressed about losing you

note: my requests are still open!! i have a few to write but im still happy to accept them! <3

Your job prior to the apocalypse was a caregiver to the elderly, so you had experience with a lot of medication and general practice of caring for someone. It's why Daryl had become so drawn to you, seeing you care for your people, or even people from Woodbury that had just been taken in, you gave everyone the same love and attention regardless of time spent with them. Daryl hadn't realised his longstanding affection for you until this flu outbreak within your prison community. You'd volunteered to help everyone alongside Herschel, caring more about the well-being of others more than your own. Until you'd gotten sick. "It was inevitable, honey," you spoke, not having the energy to even raise your voice above a whisper, "I'm glad I kept everyone in here hydrated, fed, and stable. But we're not seeing any progress." Daryl was on the other end of the window, eyes staring intensely into yours, wishing he could touch you, wishing he could hear your voice clear as day and not muffled due to being separated. Daryl sighed in defeat. "You don't deserve this." "Nobody does, but we need medication, Dar." You admitted. "It's the only way for people to get better, otherwise, we'll die in here." The thought of losing anyone else was enough of a push to find some medication, but the thought of losing you was enough to get him anywhere. He'd ride for days, hell, he'd walk for days if it meant you could get better. "I'm taking a group out, I'll get ya the meds. Just rest f'me, okay sweetheart?" Daryl was pleading now, you could hear the whine in his voice. You nodded, coughing into your hands as you hobbled away.

Days had passed. You couldn't get out of bed most mornings, even as Herschel did his rounds. Usually you'd join him, making sure everyone had water and food. But your bones ached, your head was pounding, you were sweating through your clothes. "Why don't the caregivers care for themselves, hm?" Herschel asked, entering your cell with a pitcher of water. You smiled painfully, reaching for your cup and holding it up for him. "Not used to it, I guess.." You wheezed, stabling yourself before another coughing fit. "How is everyone?" "Good as they can be, I guess." "Any word on the meds?" You asked, wanting to take the moment off yourself and onto a cure. Herschel shook his head. "Daryl keeps asking about you, though. It's rather sweet, really." "He is. Contrary to how he acts." You smiled, the thought of how he only acted around you. You'd caught him smiling a few times, even laughing at your terrible jokes. "I know a man in love when I see one."

Herschel had alerted you that Daryl was by the window again, asking for you. So you'd made the effort to hobble out of your cell and over to the window. And Daryl almost collapsed at the sight of you. Pale, hunched over in pain, sweat dripping from your skin. Your once glowing skin replaced with dullness, dark circles under your eyes. "Hey," you whispered, your hand on the glass, "how are you?" "How are you?" He asked, matching your hand with his and the both of you craved the feeling of the other's skin on yours. This was pure torture. "I can't do this anymore, Dar." You tried to take in a deep breathe, but you would wheeze as you did so. "It's getting harder. To talk, to walk, to move at all." Daryl's brows furrowed, trying to hold in every ounce of emotion threatening to spill out of him. "I know, sweetheart, I know." "They really need those meds in here, they're not getting any better." You confessed, there was no point trying to hide it now, you'd be walkers in a matter of days. "I'm gettin' em, I promise. Jus' been findin' fuel and supplies for our trip, we're leavin' today." Daryl mumbled, doubts and fears running rampant in his head. "Jus' came to say goodbye and I'll be back for ya." "I know you will, when I'm better I want a nice hug from you. It's the least bit of affection I deserve." You smiled, matching his as he shoved his middle finger up at you. But you knew what he meant. You could wait to tell him you loved him too.

Daryl had gone with Michonne, Bob, and Tyreece to a veterinary college for the medication, but Daryl couldn't think straight. He hadn't realised just how much you meant to him until you were isolated away from him. And he wasn't going to keep it to himself anymore. "We're in and we're out." Daryl instructed the team, leading them into the building. "Grab everything you can." He was so focused on finding the names of everything he needed, shoving it into his bag, he had his sights set on his objective and nobody else. Walkers had become the least of his worries. Even when the escapes had been overrun with walkers, he'd found a window which took them out to a roof. "We can walk over this roof, get us away from 'em." Daryl suggested, helping Michonne through the roof and carefully out of the building. The four steadily climbed out, aiming to walk along and find a quiet place to drop down, but Bob had lost balance and almost let go of his bag. Daryl turned, seeing the commotion and seeing Bob so desperately clinging to the back, completely ignoring any sense of fear from the walkers. "Just let it go!" Tyreece called out, but Bob was adamant on pulling the bag up. And Daryl had leaned forward to retrieve the bag from him. "What's so damn important in here, huh?" Daryl mumbled to himself, unzipping the backpack and pulling out a bottle. A bottle of what looked like whiskey. "All that for a drink?" Daryl reached his arm up to lunge it away, but Bob let out a yelp. "Please," he pleaded, "don't. It's just for when it get's quiet." Daryl was seething, why should he listen to his cries? He was on a selfish solo-mission. "Just give it to him." Michonne sighed, still wary of her footing as the walkers were clambering for their feet. "I can't believe this shit!" Daryl exclaimed, Bob's eyes fixed onto the alcohol sloshing around in Daryl's hands. "Should've left ya to die out there, we been so nice to ya. Y/N's been so nice to ya, and ya don't care one bit." "You take a sip of this before these meds get in our people," Daryl stepped to Bob, a menacing expression on his face as he shoved the bottle into his chest, "I will beat your ass into the ground."

It was a silent trip home, Daryl in the front seat with his head on the window. He couldn't stop thinking about you, about whether you were dead or alive. He was praying for the latter, and Daryl never prayed. In his life, he was so anti-God but when it came to you, he'd try anything. So seeing the familiar prison gates, Daryl almost leapt out the car whilst it was still rolling. He'd taken the bags of supplies straight to the quarantine zone, throwing it over to Herschel and sitting impatiently by the window. The window you'd always talk at, pressing your hands against it together, the one he hoped wouldn't have to separate you any longer. He had nothing to do except wait. He'd anxiously play with the ends of his hair, biting on his lip whilst he waited for any signs of progression. He sat, completely alone, just waiting for you. Completely unaware of the time passing around him. It wasn't until Maggie spotted him, and approached him slowly. "Everyone's taken the meds, they just need rest." She confirmed, and his heart lifted. "She's okay, but I think you need some rest too." "Thanks." Daryl spoke softly, a small smile on his lips as Maggie had exited the quarantine zone. He'd only waited a little while longer, until admitting defeat for the night.

The next morning, Daryl was up and spent the morning outside. Fixing the fence, stabbing some walkers in the skull, the usual daily tasks for him now. He'd accepted that you'd needed your rest, at least you were alive. But the weight still sat in his chest, even knowing you were on the mend, he wanted you. He needed you. Bob's selfish actions yesterday were now but a passing thought, he was solely centered on you. So he'd eaten some food, spoken to Carol, gone about his day as he usually would. Except you were missing. It had gotten to the evening, the sun setting behind the trees and it was a sight he wished to experience with you. "Hey handsome," he heard behind him, his head snapping to the direction of your voice, seeing you stood, weakly, against a wall. "Oh my God," he tried to speak, but it came out as more of a whimper. He'd abandoned his smoke, throwing it onto the ground before wrapping you into his body. Feeling your skin on his, your voice blessing his ears, it felt too good to be true. "Dar," you croaked, "too tight." You giggled when he'd released you, brushing his hands down your back, not wanting to take his hands from you.

[c1eepypas1a]

Can you do some dark Dean Winchester smut? With an age gap, daddy kink, and virgin reader?

A/n: I can only try, this is my first smut pls don't make fun, plus I dunno how to do the writing color change thingy, cringe ahh title name (plus: this is fictional, I know it's fucked up but honestly I've been through shit like this, and if you don't like it, don't read it, there are multiple fics like this, I'm just doing what people want okay?)

Parings: dean Winchester x fem! Virgin!sub! Reader (I can do a male version if it's not supposed to be fem)

Warnings: age gap (dean is 29 reader is 18, daddy kink, dean forcing reader to call him daddy/dean calling himself daddy, non-con, pain for the reader, forced oral (m!rec), tit palming/slapping, slight choking, kissing, swearing, obviously Dom!dean and sub!fem! Reader, nipple play (for like a second), crying, blood (slightly yk since she's a virgin)

"Please, don't...daddy."

*gif isn't mine I got it from Pinterest*

*readers pov*

Me and dean have been friends for awhile now, he thinks I'm stupid, that I don't know about all the staring or lingering touches when he's fixing up my wounds, I hate the looks, I remember when it all changed, when he changed

*flashback*

I smile as I walk into my house with jo, I jump as everyone shouts surprise at me,my dad, bobby singer walks up to me "wow kid, the big 18, do you feel older yet." He smiles warmly and I smile "uh, yeah I guess." I giggle, dean makes a backhanded joke about me finally being legal,

Sam rolls his eyes "dude, your almost thirty, stop being so gross, you knew her when she was in pigtails." Dean grumbles and hands me a present, telling me to open it later when nobody's around and his hand lingers on my shoulder,

That night I open the gift dean gave me, a fucking vibrator, in the shape of a rose and a photo of him, gripping his clothed hard cock, I quickly throw it under my bed along with the vibrator and I pretend nothing ever happened.

*end of flashback*

I walk into the motel room, I look at dean who's binging through channels on the tv "where's Sam?." I sit down next to him, "gone to get food." I nod and I continue to watch the tv, dean lands on a horror movie,

My eyes wander to the hand he placed on my thigh, I don't move it nor I say anything and I get back to watching the shit gore on the tv, "you know sweetheart, sammy's gonna be gone for a while." He says in his usual flirty tone, his hand sliding more up, I push his hand back down, "so what if he's going to be gone." I say feigning my clueless tone, bile rises in my throat as I feel his eyes move down from my face to my tits, "means we could find other things to do then this shitty ass movie." He grips my thigh tighter, borderlining on pain "d-dean what the fuc-" I'm cut off by his lips on mine,

I try to push him away and get up but he pins me down and he tsk's "no, your not going anywhere, I've waited to fucking long for you, I'm not letting you go now." He smirks and starts to undo and push down his jeans "as much as I want your cunt, I'm gonna use your mouth first."

He manhandles me so I'm on my knees, tears sting my cheeks and he smiles condescendingly, "oh baby, you started this, this is your fault, parading in your short shorts and your tight shirts, wearing no bra thinking I won't notice." He says, gripping my hair with one hand and palming my tits and thumbing at my nipples with the other, against my mind praying for this to stop, my body reacts, my nipples getting hard and my cunt getting wet, he smirks at me, pushing down his jeans, leaving himself in his boxers, the imprint of his dick visible,

He stops palming at my breasts and pulls his boxers down, his hard cock slaps against his stomach, leaking pre-cum at the angry red tip, "open up for daddy." He smirks but I don't, I keep my mouth shut and he gets visibly annoyed, he grips my hair tighter and then his other hand closes my nose, "c'mon baby, you gotta breathe soon." He says in a condescending tone,

I try my hardest but I finally open my mouth to breath, he quickly shoves his cock down my throat, I gag and spit forms around my lips and his length, he lets go of my nose and I try to breathe but its hard, "you know, this all could of been avoided if you didn't play fucking coy with me.", he says as he practically skull fuck's me, gripping my face and hair, thrusting his hips roughly,

After about 5 minutes he finally pulls away, I take a deep breath of air,tears streaming down my face, he roughly pulls me up against him, his cock against my clothed stomach, he pushes me down and sits in between my legs, trying to push my shirt up but I twist and I turn to get away, "c'mon babygirl, the less you resist, the less it'll hurt your little virgin pussy." I whimper at those words,

After what felt like forever of struggling, he finally gets my clothes off of me, leaving me in my panties, "lace...it's like you asked for me to fuck you.", I cry at those words "c'mon baby tell me how much you want this, tell daddy how much you want his big cock to stretch you open." He grins sadistically, I stay silent and dean doesn't like that, I feel his hand strike my left breast, "say it!." He shouts in my face, I whimper and I finally speak with a scared tone, "i-i want d-daddy's big cock to stretch me open." He smirks, "that's a girl.",

"please don't...daddy."

That's all I can say hoping that will please him but before I know it he thrusts into me, pain shoots through my whole body and I start to cry again "awe, baby don't cry, daddy's got you." He says as he fuck's me faster, taking away the one thing I thought I could control, but I can't, I'm helpless as he takes it from me, I feel liquid down at my pussy and I look down, I notice the crimson liquid leak down my cunt,

"I fucking knew you would bleed, don't worry sweetheart, it won't hurt that much anymore.", he says as he fuck's me harder, it hurts, no pleasure from it, I beg for him to stop, I cry to god that it'll be over soon and before I know it, I feel him pull out and his cum spurt on my tits and stomach, I feel dirty as dean kisses me before he flops down beside me and cuddles me, like he didn't just destroy me, exhaustion takes over me, before I slip into sleep I hear dean mutter something and I fall asleep.

*the end*

(a/n: my first smut, I hope it was good, if there is any mistakes or anything you didn't like please tell me, I'm sorry it's so short, I wrote this at 1am.)

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

Hello I am going on a holiday to Eryri next month & I like to read up about an area before going there... do u have any reading or documentary or podcast recs? I'm particularly interested in the ecology & minority language activism & like. Peoples history & rural lives! I know this is stuff u know about in Wales but idk if north Wales is ur region! Míle buiochas ón Eireann!

Fáilte go dtí an Bhreatain Bheag! Or croeso i Gymru. Exciting! Keep an eye on the notes for others chiming in with good recs for documentaries and the like, I'm going to just give a super quick guide

Okay, pronunciation guide for place names and that is here in written form and here in video form. I cannot recommend strongly enough that you try to use the Welsh place names rather than the English translations. Duolingo is flawed but serviceable if you want to hear and learn some basic phrases. If you can at least throw out a 'bore da' to people you pass/shopkeepers, you'll be very well liked. You don't need to be fluent by any means, but Making An Effort is seen as, like, the nicest and politest and most wonderful thing in Wales, and particularly in regions like Eryri.

Because! It's one of the biggest remaining Welsh language strongholds. If you look at language maps over time in Wales, a pattern emerges:

And the current (2021) figures show this:

And you are going to this bit:

So you're heading into the Welshest bit in all of Wales! And the bit with the strongest and longest history of Welsh, too.

Which also means there's a lot of activism-related stuff in that area. It's probably worth you reading up on the history of Tryweryn (which was a bit further east, but sets the scene well); there was also a BIG thing a couple of decades ago where activists would burn down English-owned holiday homes (while they were empty in winter, not, like, with the English in them). This is because, in addition to the usual issues with the social impacts of holiday homes (driving up prices meaning locals can't live there, eroding communities, etc), holiday homes in Welsh language heartlands are a significant and tangible threat to the language. Even today, the issue of holiday homes is an extremely touchy subject, as is the issue of (mostly-English) people moving into the area because "It's so pretty!!!" and then not learning the language.

(Yet another reason they will love you if you Make An Effort)

Historically speaking, you'll be in a chunk of the country that was the ancestral seat of the last kings of Wales (Gwynedd). The final one, Llywelyn ein Llyw Olaf, was ambushed and murdered in 1282, which was the beginning of the end for fighting off English rule. In fact, Owain Glyndŵr later crowned himself king of Wales for about two years, but weirdly, no one acknowledges this as real kingship for some reason - if you google his name, he's always listed as a soldier or military commander, which really opens up a whole "Who gets to say when someone is royalty" debate, but he did actually claim descent from the House of Aberffraw anyway, so ultimately it still links back to Llywelyn.

Ecology! Temperate alpine. There actually isn't a global scientific distinction between hill and mountain, but most countries set an arbitrary height standard. This means it varies from country to country depending on how tall their topology is. Wales, however, bucks this trend, and instead decides based on what is formally referred to as 'land use' and colloquially referred to as 'Vibes'. If it's a hill, it's tamed - if it's a mountain, it's wild. This means Eryri is fairly short by the standards of tedious foreigners who regard mountains as a sort of geological dick waving competition, but it's in fact a whole mountain range; it's also older than Saturn's rings. And, crucially, it's very much sufficiently above sea level to have an alpine ecosystem.

There are three endemic (i.e. not occurring anywhere else in the world) species in Eryri, to whit:

The Snowdon lily. A small and delicate flower growing in protected and inaccessible spots on yr Wyddfa (formally known as Snowdon). Excessively vulnerable to trampling, so the national park keeps sections where it grows fenced off.

The Snowdon beetle. RAINBOW BEETLE.

The gwyniad. A sub-species of whitefish until recently exclusively found in Llyn Tegid (Bala Lake), trapped there after the ice age and now developing its own genetic profile distinct from other whitefish. Some dickhead in the 80s introduced the ruffe to the lake for fishing, and the ruffe eats the gwyniad's eggs, so they've now transplanted eggs to Llyn Arenig Fawr nearby as a conservation measure.

There's also feral goats. And Welsh mountain ponies. Ooh, and, red kites - in the UK red kites were so heavily persecuted they eventually fell to just 7 breeding pairs in Wales. We established a protected zone and hired Nepalese Gurkhas to guard the nests and thus saved it from extirpation so successfully they later translocated Welsh birds to other spots in the UK. It's a big conservation success story, and now red kites are considered to be the national bird of Wales. They have a very distinctive silhouette, too, look for the forked tail.

Oh, and, we have a unique habitat type called ffridd, which you see a lot of in Eryri.

Final wildlife pictures to close:

Anyway - have a great time! Enjoy muchly.

[sevenop]

Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: Can you open up the door?

A/n: she takes you to her home, lovingly sheltering you from the heavy downpour so rare in LA. Takes you, and it seems, your love and all the inner contradictions along with fears caused by the public.

Inspired by the atmosphere of "CHIHIRO".

You know perfectly well that arguing with Eilish's decisions is a losing proposition, not in all cases, but in the vast majority of them. Your clothes are soaked to the skin, and the wind, though not quite cold but assertive, hints that all this will leave a mark on your immunity in the near future. Only as long as you can hear her voice on the other line, you don't care at all, frankly. You clench your chilled fingers a little tighter and hold the phone closer to your ear, because the rain noise makes it hard to hear her.

"You don't even know where I am right now."

"I know and I'm on my way to Amir's Garden to pick you up," she says uncompromisingly, and you realize Billie is really serious when you hear the click of a seatbelt and the noise of an engine in the background. Fucking hell! A puzzle quickly forms in your head: surely Finneas must have told her everything, knowing your plans. You think, you're need to talk a little less about yourself.

"Wow, what a commanding tone, Ms. O'Connell," - your pathetic attempt at defensive irony is immediately shot down by her chuckle, but you don't want to end this game. - "Do you like to lead?"

"Do you still doubt it?" - the slight hoarseness in her voice awakens a short-term flash of current in the back of your head, dispersing a pack of goosebumps on your hands and speeding up your heartbeat. You almost exhale deeply into the tube, but you pulls yourself back in time - it's too ambiguous a gesture, she shouldn't know. Not now. There is a slight mutual silence on the wire and you are content with the barely perceptible rustle of wheels, bringing thoughts and feelings into relative order.

"Just don't go anywhere, okay?"

"I was waiting in the garden, contemplating, beg your pardon," - you smirk softly, humming the now so appropriate line.

"It's not fair to mock me with my own songs, girl."

"Leave me at least something, Eilish," - you smile, imagining her childishly sly expression frozen in imaginary offense.

You drop the call and lean your back against the trunk of a tree with a spreading crown. Well, all that's left is to wait.

×××

"Damn, you're all wet!"

"Can we be a little less blatant, Billie?" - you plop down into the passenger seat next to her, slipping your seatbelt on in one motion until it clicks into place. It's impossible to wipe the smirk off your face after this joke. Naturally, you lost in your verbal altercation and Eilish arrived as she wanted, but no one forbade you to get even at the expense of lewd jokes, right?

"Shut up, you know what I meant," - Billie snorts amusedly, blue eyes sweeping over you from head to toe. - "I just want to help you, my underdog and... I missed you."

You meet her eyes and sparks shoot up in the back of your head again, like multi-colored fireworks, and the cog of anxiety that has been a regular in your head lately starts to slowly spin, revealing before your eyes the endless lines of negative comments you've read today. What bad timing.

"Is something wrong?" - and you're not even surprised. Billie reads people like an open book, her incredible talent that you sometimes get a little jealous of.

"A little later, Bils, I promise," - the gray highlights merge with the infinite blue of her irises - understanding mixed with worry. You gently touch her hand resting calmly on the gearbox and deftly interlock your fingers, creating an overall perfect puzzle. The feel of her skin makes you feel so warm inside. - "I missed you too, love."

Eilish blurs into a smile, clinging to the last word, which is new to both of you, and your heart does a somersault. You've only been dating for a week and you need to get used to this. Going from being friends to lovers is a strange but pleasant thing.

"Shall we go?"

"You don't deserve her!", "Another affair, pfft...", "Disgusting!" - The cog speeds up, causing your single nervous exhalation to shatter the silence of the cabin as if you had shotgunned the roof above you two.

Her lips touch your knuckles on the palm still closed with her, saving you from the captivity of the stinging words of Internet strangers. The sound of rain rhythmically drumming on the body of the Dodge suddenly fills your ears. She seems to know everything.

"Please, can I stay with you?" you look at Eilish as if she were a prayer altar: blue eyes reflecting your deep hope mixed with fatigue and helplessness. Warm smile of her beautiful lips is your impulse to confessional.

"I wasn't going to let you go, silly."

×××

You reach her house in silence: no unnecessary questions and jokes, just the sound of a non-stop downpour. Billie is completely focused on the road, and with your finger you are already drawing the eighth heart on the fogged window, like amulets from voracious thoughts. Dodge smoothly pulls into the parking lot, and you don't really remember how you find yourself in her bedroom, sitting lost on a huge bed.

"Hey, my girl," - the back of her palm touches your cheek incredibly softly, causing you to immediately stare at her. Eilish is kneeling in front of you, in her arms a warm red sweater with two white stripes in it, and her eyes are pure silver steel. It's not clear if she's mirroring the frowning sky looming outside the huge panoramic bedroom window, or if anxiety is stirring so strongly within her, crowding out all the peaceful blue of her irises. - "Put it on, I don't want you to get sick."

"It's from the CHIHIRO shoot, right?" - you take off your wet T-shirt and folding it accurately, as if won't throw it in the wash. Billie pulls the sweater over you, nodding affirmatively. The gray steel of her eyes doesn't open from you for a second. - "I've never seen 'Spirited Away'. It's silly, but as a kid I was always scared about those pigs and turned off the TV right away, and over time I just plain forgot I wanted to watch it to the end."

"Do you want to watch it together?" - her hands touch your waist, gently stroking your sides as if supporting you through the touch. If you were in a different frame of mind, you'd let go of a million jokes. The domineering Eilish kneeling in front of you is quite a display.

"I don't think the person who wrote an entire song about this anime would be interested," her palms calculatingly slowly slide off your waist to obligingly offer you warm house shorts. - "You've probably reviewed it back to back."

"With a girl like that, looking so mind-blowing in my sweater, I'm ready to look at least a thousand more times," - she moves a little closer to your face, lifting herself slightly on the arms on either side of your hips. Her lips, where you instantly shifted your gaze to, now have the hottest smirk you've ever seen in your entire life. You feel the flame of embarrassment flicker across your cheeks. Billie bites her lower lip and you immediately look at the top of her head, out of harm's way. For the first time, you notice that she's a little wet herself, running out of the car with you.

"Only if you wear a sweater too so you don't get sick, O'Connell." - you kiss her gently on the forehead, because kissing on the lips is still embarrassing. She agrees.

×××

"Haku, you know, my mom told me... I don't remember much myself. When I was little, I fell into a river once. Now the river's been filled in. They built houses there. But I just remembered! I remembered what it was called." - You watch the little girl fly on the dragon under the moon itself, holding onto its horns, and suddenly you feel Еilish's hands pull you closer into her arms. You only rest your head on her shoulder, relaxing completely and covering your eyes for a second against the coziness around you. - "It was called - Amber River. Kohakugawa. Your real name is Kohakugawa."

"I know everything, y/n. I know they write everything," Billie whispers softly, scorching your ear with hot breathing. You immediately jump up, open your eyes abruptly, and stare at her with an understanding and frightened look, echoing exactly the emotion of Kohakugawa himself. - "Hey, hey, hey! Relax, baby, I'm right here."

Billie deftly grabs the remote and pauses the footage with a barely audible click of a button, and your anxiety cog is spinning in your head again, winding up your sanity at an insanely fast pace. Again a shroud of avatars with mostly pictures of her, again a cluster of venomous the letters, "You don't deserve her!", "She's probably with her out of pity.", "Billie has everything but taste in girls." Click, click, click! You put your hands on your head like you're covering your ears. O'Connell reaches her hands toward you, and you leap out of bed in one strong and sharp, the word of a bucket of boiling water being splashed on you. It becomes so damn hard to breathe. The steel in her eyes, even in the semi-darkness of the room is intense and red-hot to the extreme.

"Y/n..."

"They're all right, Billie! I don't deserve you! I'm such a fucking coward!"

You grab desperately at the collar of your sweater, the word that imaginary lump in your throat is about to cause asphyxiation if you don't. Your hands shake uncontrollably, your gaze darting from side to side, clinging to the huge plasma, to the chair, to the corners of the sheets hanging from the bed, but returning to her each time. You see her slowly rise from the bed. You see it, and you immediately run to the stairs without even thinking about it. The cog clicks wildly, drowning out even the sound of footsteps that immediately overtake you. Your hands cling to the railing as you twisted your ankle on a hurried descent. Close your teeth tightly against the waves of acute pain and run, run, run!

But you realize you can't, leaning back powerlessly against the wall, already near the door. You can't because it hurts too much to run, and you can't because you love her too much. Billie pushes you against the wall even tighter in a second, looming over you like a hurricane. Arms spread on either side of you. You're trapped. Her breath hitches a little, scorching your neck, but her face shows nothing like anger, only seriousness and concern. She stares at you so intently that you think the wall behind you is about to crack and fall to dust.

Confident, yet lost in words, she finds nothing better than her own lines

"Open up the door, can you open up the door?" - she touches both palms to your face and you feel for the first time how much they shaking, - "I know you said before you can't cope with any more..."

"That's my favorite line from your song," - you flap your nose, realizing you really can't take it anymore.

"I know."

And you cry, shamelessly and right in front of her. You feel the salty, clear paths from your eyes dripping down her arms, see the worried silver in her eyes change to their usual tantalizing ghostly blue. You feel her clutch you in hers tightly, sliding down the wall with you. You hiss at the pain in your ankle and she shudders fearfully, fingers touching your chin and lifting your head. Your gazes meet and you see the weeping oceans opposite, so bright against the pinkish whites. She is crying along with you.

"Did you fall? God, y/n, we have to...," - her pleasant husky voice twitches with worry and tears, and you cover her neat, plump lips with yours, silencing her. She responds immediately, biting your lower lip lightly in a silent plea for more. You obediently open your mouth, immediately meeting her tongue. You feel the salt from your tears and the heat in your heart. True, and much lower, too.

"I'm scared, Billie," - you say honestly, palms resting on her collarbones. The cog in your head immediately fall with a clatter, crack in two. - "I said I wouldn't be afraid of some strangers' opinions, but it turned out not to be like that at all. I seem to be hated now, even for just breathing."

"I understand, my heart," - Billie put her arm around you, her hands stroking your back. From your shoulder blades to your tailbone, over and over again. - "But I chose you, not any of them, remember. You are my conscious choice. You are my love."

You hear her reply, finally finding the reassurance you need. "You are my conscious choice." The storm of words subsides as you standing this phrase on a shelf in your head like a trophy. The wreckage of the cogwheel of worry dissolves altogether, disappearing into infinity.

Eilish catches your smile and kisses you immediately. Your hands cling at her neck, and she moans gutturally as she gets what she wants. But she pulls away immediately:

"We need to take care of your ankle first, dumbass. I'll dial the number of a docotra I know."

"And then?" - you ask so childishly naive as Billie helps you gently stand up and you walk leisurely toward the couch in her living room.

"And then we'll watch this anime and I'll take back every kiss you owe me when I've been gentlemanly patient." - She sits you down on the soft couch, plopping down next to you. With her hand, she immediately pulls out her cell phone from the pocket of her home shorts. - " To make sure you heard exactly what I said."

"Thank you. For everything."

And later you do make out to one of Hayao Miyazaki's great masterpieces, just as she promised.