#general fixing anchors

[kaizenmetals]

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[milimeters-morales]

i’ve been using my own experiences with religion and what i already know about him to sort of create an unbiased characterization of ACAU Matt but i want it to be more accurate so i’m just gonna read his comics in the background and see if i can work it out. bc i already include some of it in small snippets, & well. i don’t have the best experience with religions in general so i’ve just stayed away but with matt you kinda can’t lol and i find his view a bit interesting since he’s fictional

[impossible-rat-babies]

i didn’t have estinien is actually a huge help to eyrie in garlemald on my bingo but it certainly is there

[slyandthefamilybook]

okay because I'm seeing some misinfo, here's the story on the Key Bridge collapse

What was the Key Bridge?

The Francis Scott Key Bridge (also called the Key Bridge, the Beltway Bridge, and the Outer Harbor Crossing) was steel-arch continuous-through-truss bridge spanning the Patapsco River south of the Baltimore Harbor. The bridge took 5 years to build and cost an estimated $145 million ($735 million in today's dollars). The full bridge project (including approaches) was 10.9 miles long, but the stretch over the Patapsco was 1.6 miles long and 4 lanes wide, and comprised a length of I-695, the Baltimore Beltway. It traveled between Hawkins Point and Dundalk, and in addition to the I-895 Harbor Tunnel was the primary way for Marylanders to cross from the Eastern Shore to the West. The bridge carried an estimated 11.5 million vehicles per year. There is a lane for ships to pass under the Key Bridge with enough clearance.

Was it structurally sound?

The bridge received its latest inspection in 2022 and received a 6/9 score, which is considered "fair" by federal standards. There was a concern with one of its columns, which was downgraded from a health index of 77.8 to 65.9, but it is not clear yet if this was one of the columns struck by the ship. In 1980 the bridge was struck by a different cargo ship which destroyed a concrete support structure, but the bridge itself was unharmed. There is as of yet no evidence that the bridge collapsed because of poor condition. Experts say the lesson to be learned is about the size and weight of modern cargo ships, and that the bridge was not to blame. Engineers have noted, however, that the bridge's piers lacked protective devices such as fenders.

What was the ship?

The MV Dali is a container ship flying the Singapore flag. It is owned by Grace Ocean Private Ltd. and operated by Synergy Marine Group Ltd. The ship is currently being chartered by Maersk, a Dutch shipping company. It was built in 2015 by Hyundai. The ship is 980 feet long and 157 feet wide. The ship's gross tonnage (its internal volume) is 95,128 tons (190,256,000 pounds). Its deadweight (the weight of cargo it can carry) is 116,851 tons (233,702,000 pounds). The ship was carrying 3,000 containers. The engine is a MAN-B&W 9S90ME putting out 41,480 kilowatts (55,626 horsepower).

Over its lifetime the Dali has been inspected 27 times, and only 2 faults were ever found. On June 27, 2023 the Dali was held in port in Chile due to an issue with the propulsion system. According to an inspector the pressure gauges on the heating system were "unreadable". The fault was fixed before the ship left port.

The Dali is crewed by 22 Indian nationals including 2 maritime pilots.

What happened?

The Dali arrived at the Port of Baltimore on March 23, 2024. At 12:44 AM on March 26, 2024 the Dali left port, beginning its journey to Colombo, Sri Lanka. At 01:26 AM the ship suffered a "complete blackout" and began to drift out of the shipping lane. It is not yet known what caused the electrical failure. The backup generator did not power the propulsion system. At around 01:26 AM the crew of the Dali sent a mayday distress call to the Maryland Department of Transportation (MDOT) informing them of the loss of power and that a collision with the Key Bridge was possible. The anchors were dropped as an emergency measure to attempt to slow or stop the vessel. At the request of one of the pilots traffic flow over the bridge was immediately halted. Black smoke was seen coming from the Dali, which experts believe was the result of the crew managing to restart the power system to regain some maneuvering capability.

At 01:28 AM the Dali, traveling at 8 knots (considered to be a fast speed) collided with a support strut beneath the Key Bridge's metal truss at the southwest end of the bridge. A Baltimore resident said he heard the collision and that it "felt like an earthquake". Emergency teams began receiving 911 calls at 01:30 AM, and the Baltimore Police Department were alerted at 01:35 AM. One of the officers present radioed that he was going to go onto the bridge to alert the construction crew as soon as a second officer arrived, but the bridge collapsed seconds later.

What was the damage?

The Key Bridge has completely collapsed. The metal truss relies on structural tension from the bridge itself to maintain its rigidity. As soon as one of the support columns was destroyed, the rest of the bridge quickly followed.

The damage to the Dali is reported as minimal. The ship was impaled by the bridge's structure above the waterline, but has maintained watertight integrity. The crew has not reported any water contamination from its 1.8 million gallons of marine fuel. 13 containers carrying potentially hazardous material were damaged, and are being inspected by a team of Coast Guard divers. At least 5 vehicles including 3 passenger cars and a cement mixer were detected underwater, but authorities do not believe they were occupied

Who was hurt?

The crew of the Dali reports no casualties, except one crewmember who was hospitalized for minor injuries. There was a crew of 8 construction workers on the Key Bridge filling in potholes. 2 were immediately pulled from the water by rescue crews, with 1 being rushed to emergency care and the other reporting minor injuries and refusing treatment. The hospitalized worker has since been discharged. 1 of those rescued was Mexican. The remaining 6 remain missing. Of those 6, 2 have been identified:

Miguel Luna from El Salvador

Maynor Yassir Suazo Sandoval from Honduras

Of the remaining 4, 2 are Guatemalan nationals. Neither have been identified, but the Guatemalan Foreign Affairs Ministry has stated that they were a 26-year-old from San Luis, Petén, and a 35-year-old from Camotán, Chiquimula. The other 2 are presumed to be Mexican.

Rescue Efforts

The Coast Guard was immediately deployed for search-and-rescue operations. Military Blackhawk helicopters were seen over the river. Rescue efforts were ended at 07:30 PM on March 26, 2024 due to darkness, fog, and cold temperatures. Rear Admiral Shannon Gilreath said "Based on the length of time that we've gone in the search, the extensive search efforts that we put into it, the water temperature -- at this point, we do not believe that we're going to find any of these individuals still alive". Recovery operations resumed at 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 with all 6 workers presumed dead.

No divers have yet entered the water underneath the bridge. Supervisory Special Agent Brian Hudson of the FBI's Underwater Search and Evidence Response Team said "the debris field is pretty sizable and I know that’s why they’re hesitant to send divers down because some of the debris is still shifting, the heavy weight of the rocks". The FBI has deployed Remotely Operated Vehicles (ROVs) equipped with cameras and SONAR.

Aftermath

At 05:08 AM on March 26, 2024 Transportation Secretary Pete Buttegiege posted on X (formerly Twitter):

"I’ve spoken with Gov. Moore and Mayor Scott to offer USDOT’s support following the vessel strike and collapse of the Francis Scott Key bridge. Rescue efforts remain underway and drivers in the Baltimore area should follow local responder guidance on detours and response."

At 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 President of the Maryland State Senate Bill Ferguson posted on X (formerly Twitter):

"Over 15,000 in the Balt region rely on daily operations at Port of Baltimore to put food on the table. Today, with Del. @LukeClippinger and colleagues representing Port, we are drafting an emergency bill to provide for income replacement for workers impacted by this travesty."

At around 09:40 AM on March 26, 2024 Maryland Governor Wes Moore and Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott declared a State of Emergency to take effect at 10:30 AM March 26, 2024, and to last 30 days. Baltimore's Emergency Operations Plan was put into effect.

More than 1,000 personnel from the US Army Corps of Engineers (USACE) have been deployed to assist with clearing the debris and rebuilding efforts. President Joe Biden has pledged that the federal government will pay for the entire reconstruction of the bridge.

Jennifer Homendy, the chair of the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) has recovered the Dali's data recorder, and will be inspecting both the Key Bridge and the Dali to determine the cause of the crash and the collapse. She says the investigation could take up to 2 years to complete.

Was it intentional?

According to William DelBagno, head of the FBI's Baltimore field office: "There is no specific or credible information to suggest there are ties to terrorism in this incident".

Secretary of Homeland Security Alejandro Mayorkas said: "There are no indications this was an intentional act".

At least 3 people have been killed in accidents related to ships operated by Synergy in the past 6 years. In 2018 a person on board a Synergy ship in Australia was killed in an accident relating to the vessel's personnel elevator. In 2019 an officer aboard a Synergy vessel in Singapore fell overboard while performing maintenance. In 2023 at least one sailor was killed when a Synergy ship collided with a dredging ship in the Philippines. In the first two cases safety inspectors noted that proper safety procedures had not been adhered to.

Sources

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

[thewulf]

Trust in the Tide || Paul Lahote

Summary: Request -Hello!! I loved your forever yours fic!! I was wondering if you could write another Paul Lahote fic where Bella goes to the cullens house and drags her sister Y/N along with. Paul isnt happy about this at all and gets very possessive of Y/N.

A/N: Okay this one is cheeeeeesy but really sweet :)

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Swan Sister Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

TW: Possessiveness, general twilight warnings

On an unusually warm afternoon, with the sun painting the waves in hues of amber and gold, you find yourself lounging on the sands of La Push beach. Beside you, Paul's presence is as comforting as the steady rhythm of the surf. Though known among his peers for his fierce temper and unyielding nature with you he's a different person—gentle, attentive, and uncharacteristically vulnerable.

You've been together for a year now ever since the day he imprinted on you. A single moment that forever changed the course of both your lives. In this year your relationship has blossomed into a deep and passionate connection with you often playing the role of his anchor, the calm in his storm.

As you sit there watching the gulls dance above the waves Paul's hand finds yours, his fingers lacing with yours in a familiar, comforting grip. His other hand brushes away a stray lock of hair from your face tucking it gently behind your ear. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" he murmurs. His voice low and warm carrying over the sound of the waves.

You nod while leaning into his side, feeling the solid strength of him. "It's perfect," you agree, allowing yourself a moment to bask in the simple joy of being here with him away from the complexities of your intertwined worlds.

Paul's gaze is fixed on the horizon, but you know his thoughts are never far from you. In these quiet, unguarded moments you see a side of him that no one else does. You see the vulnerability hidden behind the façade of the tough werewolf. It's a side he only shows to you. It makes your heart swell with a mix of affection and pride.

"Thanks for being here, you know," he says suddenly before turning to look at you with intense, sincere eyes. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Your heart flutters at his words. A gentle reminder of the bond you share. "I'll always be here, Paul," you assure him by squeezing his hand. "No matter what."

In these moments with the salty breeze tangling your hair and the sound of Paul's steady heartbeat under your ear you feel an overwhelming sense of peace. Here, with him, you are home.

But your peaceful afternoon is abruptly shattered when Bella, her brow creased with worry but with a knowing smirk on her face, approaches the two of you on the beach. The sight of her alone is enough to tighten Paul's grip around your waist. His body tensing as if bracing for a storm.

"Whenever you aren't with Charlie, you're always here," Bella comments lightly. Trying to ease the tension with a touch of humor as she nods towards the two of you entwined on the sand.

You can't help but smile even as the worry in Bella's eyes belies her playful tone. "Can you blame me?" you reply with gesturing to the serene beach and then to Paul whose presence is a comforting constant in your life.

Paul attempted to lighten the mood despite the tension. He throws a quizzical glance at Bella. "What brings the vampire girl back down to La Push?" he jokes. Trying to elicit a smile but his voice betrays a hint of his underlying concern.

Bella's expression turns serious again as she ignores Paul’s attempt at humor. "It's Alice," she begins. Her voice dropping to a more urgent whisper. "She had a vision... and it involves you, Y/N. It's not clear, but it's serious enough that we think you should come to the house and talk about it."

Instantly, Paul's embrace tightens. His protective instincts flaring up. "No," he says flatly, his voice laced with a protectiveness that borders on aggression. "She’s not going anywhere near those bloodsuckers."

You squeeze his hand trying to calm the storm you see brewing in his eyes. "Paul, if it's about me… I need to know. I need to understand what's happening," you reason. Your voice a soothing counterpoint to his growling tone.

Bella looks between the two of you, her worry deepening. "It’s not clear what it means yet, but Alice saw a conflict... something that might escalate without your intervention. We think Y/N might be a key to preventing it."

Paul’s body is rigid with conflict. The thought of you walking into what he views as the lion’s den. A place where every instinct tells him you could be in danger, is tearing him apart inside. "You don't understand, Bella. I can’t just let her walk into a potential trap," he argues with his voice strained.

You look up at him. Your heart is aching at the pain and fear etched in his features. "Paul, I need to do this. Not just for me but for all of us. If there’s even a chance that my being there could help prevent a bigger conflict, we have to take it." Your voice is firm. Carrying the weight of your resolve. "I’ll be okay. I went to school with them, remember? They'd never harm a hair on my head."

Seeing the agony in his eyes you reach up to cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze. "I promise Pau, I'll come home right to you. Just wait for me, okay?"

Paul's face is a mask of conflict. He’s torn between his fierce instinct to protect and his deep trust in you. "It's not you I don't trust, you know that," he says, his voice tense. "It's them. It's walking you right into their world... without me even being able to be there to protect you."

You nod understanding his fear. "Paul, I'm Bella's sister," you remind him gently by playing to his more rational side. "They've known me almost as long as they've known her. They'd never hurt me. And this could help everyone. The pack even. Your brothers and sister. It could prevent a bigger conflict. Isn't that worth it?"

He looks out towards the sea, his jaw clenching as he processes your words. "And I can't even escort you there..." he mutters with frustration lacing every word.

With pleading eyes, you look back at him. "I need you to trust me on this," you say softly. "Trust that I'll be okay."

Paul stares into your eyes searching for something that might make this easier. Finally, with a guttural sigh, his resistance crumbles. "Alright," he murmurs. His voice rough with suppressed emotion. "But I’m holding you to that promise. You come straight back to me. Please." He adds with a soft smile.

You grin while squeezing his hand tightly ever so grateful for his trust and understanding. "I will, Paul. I promise." Sensing the weight of the moment you step closer to him before wrapping your arms around his neck. You press a lingering, tender kiss to his lips. A promise of your return sealed with the sweetness of your affection.

As you pull away your eyes lock with his communicating a depth of love and reassurance. "Wait for me," you whisper. It’s a soft plea mixed with a firm promise. He agrees. His expression a mix of resolve and vulnerability. The hard lines of his face softening at your touch.

With one last look you turn and follow Bella to her truck feeling the weight of Paul's gaze on you like a protective cloak. As you climb into the passenger seat and the truck pulls away his figure remains etched against the horizon. A silent sentinel watching over the path you'll return by.

As the truck bumps along the familiar forested road leading to the Cullen house Bella steals a few glances your way her earlier worry momentarily replaced by a hint of curiosity. The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable but it's filled with the unspoken acknowledgment of the distance that has grown between you two. Yet, today, as the trees blur past there’s a tentative bridge being built in those stolen glances.

“You seem really happy, Y/N,” Bella finally says. The words careful but genuine. She adjusts her grip on the steering wheel focusing on the winding road but clearly intent on your response.

Your heart swells at the mention and you can't help but nod enthusiastically. “I am, Bella. Paul... he’s been amazing,” you reply. Your voice tinged with undeniable joy. “He’s so kind to me, you know? In ways that people don’t always see.”

Bella smiles, a soft, understanding smile that reaches her eyes. “I can tell. He looks at you like... like you’re his whole world.” Her tone is reflective, possibly recalling her own complex relationships. “It’s really nice seeing you so taken care of. Makes me feel less worried about dragging you into our... mess today.”

The road smooths out as you approach the Cullen’s long driveway and you let out a small, contented sigh. “Thanks, Bella. I know it’s a lot, with everything going on. But being with Paul, it feels right. Like I’m where I’m supposed to be.” You turn to her with a bright grin spreading across your face. “And don’t worry about today. We’ll handle it just like we handle everything else.”

Bella nods, her expression mixing relief with a bit of admiration. “I’m glad, Y/N. And I’m glad he’s good to you. We all need that… someone who makes us feel like coming home.”

The conversation lulls as the imposing structure of the Cullen house comes into view with its vast windows reflecting the cloudy sky above. Today might be filled with uncertainties but your heart holds on to the warmth of the conversation, the shared smiles, and the reassurance of your sister's concern, making you feel ready for whatever lies ahead.

As you step into the cool, grand interior of the Cullen house the atmosphere is charged with a mix of anticipation and tension. The Cullen’s are all present. Their expressions ranging from curious to concerned. Alice steps forward first with her slight frame contrasting the intensity of her gaze.

"Thank you for coming, Y/N," Alice says sincerely. "I know this isn't easy."

You nod feeling the weight of the situation but bolstered by the earlier conversation with Bella. "Let's just get to the bottom of this, Alice. What exactly did you see?"

Alice describes her vision in greater detail explaining that it involved a confrontation that could escalate tensions not just within Forks but potentially with other vampire groups. Your presence, she suggests, might symbolize a commitment to peace that could soothe rising fears.

Edward, ever the voice of reason, interjects thoughtfully. "I’ve given this some thought. Perhaps there's a way to communicate our intentions without requiring Y/N to be directly involved. We could send a message through Carlisle to the other leaders, clarifying our stance and our commitment to peace. Getting the pack involved this early seems… unwise." His soft smile towards you is comforting and you give him a quick nod back agreeing with his stance.

Jasper, who has been quietly assessing the mood, adds, "And I can reach out to my old contacts. They trust my judgment. If I explain the situation and our peaceful intentions it might help calm any unrest."

You listen to each suggestion feeling a sense of relief that there might be solutions that don't require you to be more involved than necessary. "Both sound like good plans," you agree. "My being here today is a show of good faith and hopefully that's enough. Showing that we're united in wanting peace might be the strongest message we can send."

Carlisle nods in agreement. His expression one of gentle authority. "I think that's wise. We appreciate your willingness to help, Y/N, and your insight has been invaluable. But let's minimize risk where we can."

Esme with her nurturing demeanor smiles warmly at you. "And we're here to support you not to make demands. Let's proceed with those ideas and keep communication open. Should we need you we know how to get ahold of you." She gestures to your sister who was looking more and more relieved.

As the meeting begins to wind down and everyone seems to agree on the proactive steps to take, Emmett can't resist lightening the mood. He leans slightly closer to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and pretends to sniff the air dramatically. "Y/N, you know I love you, but you kind of stink like wet dog today," he says with a broad grin, clearly teasing.

You can't help but laugh, shaking your head at his typical goofiness. "Emmett, you really never change, do you?" you reply. The laughter making your words light and easy.

Rosalie who was standing beside him rolls her eyes affectionately at her husband's antics but smiles at the exchange. It's clear they all value the levity Emmett brings, especially in tense situations.

"Hey, I'm just saying, maybe a little vampire sparkle wouldn't hurt," Emmett chuckles, winking at you.

As you leave the Cullen house, chuckling over Emmett's playful banter, you feel a genuine warmth from the exchange. It's moments like these in the middle of the gravity of supernatural politics that remind you of the strange yet comforting friendship you've found with the Cullen’s. They might be vampires, but their familial bonds and moments of humor aren't so different from what you find at home with Paul and the pack.

As Bella's truck pulls up to the familiar surroundings of La Push you can already see Paul waiting by the road, his posture tense with anticipation. The moment the truck stops he's at the door pulling it open with a haste that speaks volumes of his anxiety and relief.

"You're back," Paul breathes out. His voice thick with emotion as he helps you out of the truck. His hands are gentle but firm, as if he needs to physically feel that you're safe and sound.

"I'm back, just like I promised," you reassure him by reaching up to touch his face, feeling the rough stubble and the warmth of his skin. His eyes search yours looking for any sign of distress instead relaxing when he sees your calm demeanor.

Before you can fully turn to Paul you remember Bella, still seated in the driver’s seat, watching the exchange with a small smile. "Thanks, Bella. For everything today," you speak while giving her a grateful look.

Bella nods, her eyes softening. "Of course. Take care, you two," she replies. Her voice carrying a hint of relief at seeing you safe and sound with Paul.

Paul who was not one to hold grudges where your safety is involved, nods at Bella. "Thanks for looking out for her," he adds. His tone sincere despite the underlying tension of the day.

With a final wave Bella starts the truck again before pulling away from the curb as you turn back to Paul. His arms are already open, ready to pull you into a secure embrace. "I was worried, you know," he admits once Bella's truck has disappeared from sight, his voice low, almost a whisper against the breeze. "Every minute felt like an hour. But I trust you. I should have remembered that you can handle anything."

You smile softly as you were touched by his concern and his admission. "I know you were worried, and I love you for it," you say while pulling him close for a hug. "But I also knew everything would be okay. We had to make sure of that."

Paul nods, his expression softening as he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. "I'm sorry for doubting. It's just hard when I think about anything happening to you."

"Nothing happened, Paul. And I had to go today to keep it that way," you explain, hoping he understands the importance of your actions today. Not just for yourself but for the peace it might ensure.

Paul takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling under your hands. "I get it now. I do. And I'm proud of you, Y/N. Really proud." His words are sincere and filled with a new respect for your judgment and your strength.

The two of you stand there for a moment, just holding each other, the sound of the waves in the background a soothing soundtrack to your reunion. Paul's hold tightens briefly as if reaffirming his promise to always be there for you.

"Why don't we just sit here for a while?" Paul suggests, gesturing towards the beach. "Enjoy the quiet and each other's company. No rush, just us." You grin, grateful for the peaceful end to an eventful day. Settling back onto the sand you lean against him feeling truly at home in his embrace. As the sun begins to set it painted the sky in fiery hues. You savor the moment of calm, the simple joy of being together.

As the evening air grows cooler and a gentle shiver passes through you Paul notices immediately. With a concerned furrow of his brow, he shifts closer, his arms reaching out to you. "Hey, come here," he says softly while pulling you gently towards him. Before you know it you're settled comfortably in his lap. His warmth enveloping you like a protective cloak.

Wrapped in his embrace you can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of safety and love. Paul's hands rub your arms gently, generating warmth, his breath warm against the side of your neck. "Better?" he asks. His voice a soothing rumble in his chest.

"Much," you reply leaning back against him, feeling his heartbeat steady and reassuring against your back. The sound of the waves, the starlit sky, and Paul's presence combine into a perfect ever peaceful moment.

Paul kisses the top of your head gently. An affirmation of his feelings. "I love you. You know that?" he murmurs into your hair. His voice carrying a weight of sincerity. "Not just for being so strong today, but for every day. For being you."

Your heart feels full. His words lifting you even further into a state of bliss. "I love you too, Paul. So much," you whisper back, turning slightly to catch his eye. The look he gives you is filled with adoration and a promise of infinite tomorrows.

As the evening chill sets in and you snuggle deeper into Paul's embrace his heart swells with an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. Under the vast, starlit sky, as he feels your steady breathing against him Paul's thoughts drift towards the future. A future he envisions vividly with you by his side.

Holding you close, his mind fills with images of similar nights, perhaps a little house of your own nearby where the sounds of the ocean can lull you both to sleep. He imagines lazy mornings with you, shared laughter, and quiet evenings just like this one. Each moment reinforcing the bond between you.

"You know," Paul whispers while breaking the comfortable silence. His voice tinged with a mix of wonder and conviction, "I feel like the luckiest guy on earth to have you. Every day with you feels like a promise of something great."

You look up at him, touched by his sincerity and the soft look in his eyes. "And I feel like the luckiest girl," you respond. Your voice soft. "I can't wait for all those days, Paul."

Content in the quiet night wrapped in each other's arms the world seems to stand still. Eventually, as the night deepens and the chill of the air becomes more pronounced, Paul's concern for your comfort reasserts itself. "Let's get you home before you turn into an ice cube," he jokes lightly. But his care is evident in the way he helps you to your feet and keeps you close as you walk to his car.

When you arrive at your doorstep Paul pulls you into one more long, lingering kiss. This one filled with promises and plans. "See you tomorrow, love. Dream of us," he says as he finally, regretfully, pulls away.

As you watch him drive off his earlier words echo in your heart filling you with warmth and a deep, unshakeable sense of belonging. You step inside already counting the minutes until you see him again, secure in the knowledge that what you have is once-in-a-lifetime. Tonight has not only brought you closer but has also cemented a future you are both eager to build together. One beautiful day at a time.

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[year2000electronics]

i think obsessive/selfish/misguided love or “harmful” love in general as an antithetical theme to gravity falls’ theme of love and family makes so much sense. if you think about it, a lot of the conflict in the show is born out of selfishness and obsessiveness and loving people as objects or means to an end. obviously, you have the big examples like gideon for mabel and giffany for soos, but every time both sets of the pines twins have butted heads, it’s usually been because of that too. just in like, a different way.

stan and mabel are both relying on dipper and ford to stay anchored to them forever to secure their happiness, and even though it’s a totally okay thought to have and dipper and ford weren’t in too much of a rush to consider their feelings, it’s a bandaid solution at best! dipper ends up NOT leaving because that’s the right thing for them but it’s not totally because the pines twins are a “set of two” who can’t be separated. it’s a decision they make mutually! mabel even says that she would be okay with dipper taking the apprenticeship, she just needed a minute to be frustrated!

and then of course you have stan and ford where stan leaving ford meant stan would lose his only friend, but even in their adult years, they clearly still love each other (ford and stan both apologizing profusely every time they land a devastating enough hit) but their selfish desire to have the other admit they’re the “villain”, to have a scapegoat to blame a whole series of factors on, overtakes them and buries that love. even as old men they’re still trying to get something out of the other before anything else (ford’s house and name, stan’s “thank you”). stan and ford want to love each other deep down so badly but this giant means to an end is in the way

you even see that sort of motif with characters like dipper and pacifica, where dipper’s crush on wendy almost always has negative results because, not only can it never be due to the age gap, but every time he tries to court her, it’s usually in the way a prize is to be won. he makes an itemized list of a process that is “guaranteed” to impress wendy, he literally brakes the laws of space time just so robbie won’t date her (as if one single snow cone is keeping him from his success), gets a job at the pool just so he can hang out with her, and jumps at the opportunity to prove robbie is evil. etc etc. and with pacifica it’s clear that her parents’ love is very transactional and conditional. if EVEN that.

so the fact that book of bill is setting up bill to be like a clingy ex to ford- more than that, it’s setting up ford to be the only human bill cares about THIS much! it feels like the ultimate way to tie bill to that theme of how love can harm as much as it can heal. like, he’s always been an obstacle to the pines’ happy ending, but this way, we see his reaction to love in his psyche play out, and you understand why he’s the opposite and obstacle to the pines. the stan twins hurt each other and it takes an entire show’s worth of growth for them to fix it. gideon hurt mabel but him letting dipper and the group into her bubble proves he’s willing to change. bill hurt ford and he throws a temper tantrum and denies everything, trying to use force to get things back to the way they were because in his own twisted way he really does love and care for ford. i’m sure even a traumatized millenia old dream demon could change but for now bill doesn’t! and that kinda makes him and ford’s relationship the perfect tie in to the themes in the show

[dogbites-puppylove]

Yandere Batfam: Incentives

TW: description of yandere mentalities and actions (obsession, possessive tendencies, stalking, etc)

Tags: Yandere! Batfam x reader

Bruce Wayne: The Epitome of a Hero

Batman without fail has proven himself a near-perfect hero, impressive for the fact that he's first generation and had tackled Gotham's cursed land. But obviously, as with any being on earth, the stress of the facade weighs on him. The stretch between the isle of Bruce Wayne and the Scowl of Batman no longer cut clean. They blur and tear at him ravenously until he sometimes feels he is nothing but a ghost of obsession, of a boy in the middle of an alley with his parent's blood puddled around his knees.

Bruce, in essence, needs something to define himself, he is a man who cares for his partners painfully (each robin has chiseled a part of himself out) and yet he cannot choose them over his city (over his villains). He has nobody else to define who he is, he is nothing without them and as much as he loves being their father the cowl is the only thing he has left of what was once an unbreakable will

The darling plays a sort of anchor, a guide, a definition that Bruce can cling onto. For Bruce who cannot say confidently that he can live truly as either a civilian or a hero without regret, his darling is all he has to cling to. For even should he forsake his sacred code that defines him, forsake his morals that he clings to, and go off the deep end never to return he can still manage to drench himself in you. 

You're in his bones, his flesh, and on his lips at all times of the night and day, the cowl and fatherhood are at his core and as they conflict, chipping away at him and forcing him into nothing but a broken mess you seep into the cracks and fill him up until all of him is nothing but you, you, you. Your scorn, your praise, all of what you say, you're what he can finally define himself off of.

It doesn't matter if your nails drag into his skin as a punishment, or even if you carve your woes into his flesh with a knife. He will take them as his law all the same he will revere your kisses, your soft touches, and your smiles. His unbreakable will is nothing in the end as long as he has you.

You have him in the palm of his hand, your word is law, you define who he is with your mood, whether he is a failure and must strive to be better or whether he can finally rest is all up to you.

Even from a young age when childhood should have been grass stains and scraped knees, Dick has always known an audience's eyes and dizzying heights. He knows his role, his actions and his expressions are all being watched, and taken into account and he knows best how to play the role of the easily lovable. Responsibility and acting all of this have been him forever, he's a natural at it. Basically, its second nature for him to mold himself into the one everyone likes, he knows the script and he plays it well

Richard Grayson: The golden boy

His entire life has been a role, something that he has to put his all into acting, the perfect robin, the leader of the titans, the leader of the young justice league, Nightwing-the vigilante who garners the respect of heroes and law alike. It is a tightrope walk of never-ending smiles and actions and if he slips it all comes crashing down and he cannot risk it. If he bows to the weight on his shoulders, even if it's all too much he has far too much to lose. Of course, he loves being loved, and he genuinely does love his family, loves his pseudo father and his little brothers and his friends but he knows who they love and it might not be him as a person.

The darling for him is a slow burn. a t first their a sort of self-fulfillment, just a little fix of appreciation from his favorite person, but the more he visits them, the more he drops some prefixes, is able to be a little rougher around the edges he gets lost in it, the brunt of his feelings finally flooding out from the cracks in his perfect facade and you're his addiction. He needs you to need him, to like him, to adore him he needs you to approve of who he is without the flashing lights and cameras. It's a strange mix of needing your approval to prove that he's still balancing, that the weight hasn't yet managed to take hold and drag him down, and needing you to see the fact that he is a broken grieving man. He's been used and weaponized and he just needs to know that outside of that Richard Grayson is still useable, love him outside of his role, be his everything meld your existence into his he's begging you

It comes to a point that he can almost no longer separate where you begin and where he ends, and he's never felt so intoxicated, so in love, because if love isn't the way he can barely focus, his brain clouding over and the way he basically turns into an animal for you, your loyal little dog he doesn't know what could possibly count. As long as he has your praise, your approval, and your need for him he's a brainless pet. Just love him, love him, love him or he might finally fall. 

What many forget about the second robin is though he is the robin who crosses the lines others won't, the one who sees things to a more permanent end, Jason is the one who is more in tune with his emotions. They overwhelm him and lead him more than rationality but Jason has emotions, he bares his heart on his sleeve, and others are simply too blind to see it. Perhaps it's because of this strange self-awareness, of how fucked he is, how broken he is that he cannot delude himself in the same way his family does. He cannot seem to meld himself with you(how could something like him even think of being one with someone like you), but he's so desperate for the connection. 

Jason Todd: The monster

In comparison to the other robins, Jason understands that he is replaceable. It's so easy to swap him out with any other broken street rat, hell he might even argue it would be an improvement. He's watched Gotham from its sewer, eyes glancing over crime alleys streets from broken street lights as a child, how women were beaten into submission by men with too much audacity and beer on their breath, how good men would be turned to corpses and looted, how children stood on corners and Gotham nods her head because his city is nothing it not vile and rotten in its core

He has known death intimately and hates life just a little bit more because there isn't anything he can feel truly justifies how Gotham lets the sewage and filth thrive. He's never had the luxury of childhood, of the safety of a child's innocence because he's aware that life isn't a gift, it's a cesspool of sin prepping souls on earth for hell. There's nothing good, but there are people who need protection from it and Jason goes about his days repenting for existing because there's no divinity, no god other than the men who see themselves on the top of the chain. There's no god before you.

His darling is a light, something near untouchable, someone who can do no wrong. Jason is the type of delusional where he can justify every single thing Darling can ever say or do, say the skies green and he’ll rearrange the dictionary just to prove you right. You in a sense define what is good or evil, something invaluable, something so good that they could even pity him. A benevolent deity bestowed open Gotham and he'd be damned if he let anything from the street touch you. Jason is the robin who came back wrong, the killer, the monster, the black sheep of the family of maniacs who want better from the world, and he's disgusting but he'll do anything for you.

In a sick way, he already knows well how his presence is painfully unworthy of you, but he longs, craves, and hungers for you all the same. He's reverent in his treatment. If he cannot connect with you by becoming one he'll be your loyal slave, your servant to the ends of the earth, his hands are already stained but even his own sins become virtues if there for you. He lives and breathes on you, everything he does is for you until the dead bodies piling his work are but offerings, sacrifices all for you. Carve a place in your body for him to reside, for him to leash himself upon so he can hide and forever more belong to you. A Divine and their monster acolyte. 

Tim is a being born of neglect, constant patronization, rejection, and scorn. His only sense of motivation had been at first obsession without a sense of preservation. Tim has always known nothing but a world where he has to be able to provide to earn his right to stay, to exist. He knows intimately what it's like to be looked through, to be invisible, to have his own name replaced with another, or to have never been born, so like money he exchanges himself and all his actions in a transactional way. Every relationship for him is a simple give and take, he gives them what they want, and they let him stay and remember his name. As long as Tim is functioning and working he can't be thrown away, can't be truly invisible. As long as he is working he is kept.

Tim Drake: The Forgotten 

Tim is smart, he knows how to run the table, and play the game and he does it well, he knows exactly how to pick apart everyone around him. Tears into them and learns, absorbs, and sees what they need, how he needs to act, what he needs to provide, and remakes himself for the sake of their approval. From the constant twists and turns of his character, Tim knows how to seek out the role, how to play it, how to thrive in it, Tim sees everything, and thus he is left feeling empty because nobody sees him. Something carnal in him screams for something, anything to tear him apart as well, to meet his obsession with their own.

His darling is someone who he needs to ruin him, he needs them to dissect him, to cut him up and tear away everything and covet his entrails. He's begging you to tear away at him, until Red Robin is nothing until Drake Wayne is but a far away title, and see him, see Time in all he is. Obsessive, disgusting, and desperate. He needs his darling to keep digging even as they see this and decide he's good enough to continue unraveling, to rip him open and keep something of him in your pocket.

As is apparent the relationship with his darling is almost masochistic in a way, with a clear power dynamic but what is to be noted is that while he is desperate he will never truly give up control. He knows when he is being manipulated, but he thrives on it, that you've picked him apart and have decided him worthy to manipulate, you get what he allows but he allows a lot for you. He wants his darling to devour him whole, to stitch themselves into a Frankenstein monster just as he has with them. Take on his mannerisms, remember his coffee order, his eye color, anything. He'd thrive just knowing they have a photo of him somewhere in their pocket. (as if it equates to the massive amounts of video he has on you, the photos, the cameras, the trackers, the microphones, the bugs, and chips)he just needs you to know who he is. He needs you to prove that Timothy Drake truly exists. 

What most cannot see off the bat due to confident words and even more confident actions is that the most familiar feeling Damian is acquainted with is unsurity. He is a being born with a purpose, and the purpose was not to be human, it was to be heir, to be a leader to be everything that he needed to be. His life is a mix of criteria he needs to meet, of missions and proving himself and needing to be perfect, needing the validation of praise and a good grade. He is the heir of a league of assassins and yet he can no longer kill, he is the protege of a notorious hero and yet he contemplates lethality for too much, day in and day out Damian defines himself by this conflict and with true humanity alluding him, he cannot tell truly who he is. 

Damian Wayne: The heir 

The source of his need for competency comes from fear of inadequacy. Because if he cannot fit the criteria given, if he cannot prove himself worthy then does he even have the right to exist? When he has been born for a role he can no longer call his own, where does that leave him? Lost, he's lost and wandering and he thinks something is rotting in him. It plagues him, the fact that Damian Wayne is a leader, son, brother,heir but not human.

His darling in his case plays the role of safe haven, a little home in the form of flesh and blood where he can bury himself alive. He needs the surety they bring, there is no throne, no rubric or evaluation, there is only their own eyes and lips and Damian's own heart in their hands. They are his humanity, if Damian is a role then they are his wants and needs, they are his tears and very heart, he's sure if he could tear his chest open his darling would be there, cradled precisely within his ribs. In their arms Damian feels so painfully useless that he remembers he too has lungs that need air, that he too has basic needs, he feels helpless and ragged and he thinks that this sort of helplessness can be nothing but love.

Darling is living proof that Damian Wayne has something to himself outside of Robin, outside of al-Ghul, and outside of his last name. He is flawed, he sleeps and dreams and cries and is so very weak. He eats from the palm of your hand, everything that makes him disgustingly weak, mortal, he's putty in your hands, even if you were to feed him poison he would drink greedily. The thought of death, the foe that drove his grandfather to the pits over and over again, feels no harder than a feather brush with your arms around him.

Alfred: extra 

Apologies 

He is far too old to fancy himself a darling, and far too sensible to feel infatuation as strongly as his wayward family but he can care, and he can love and he would do anything for his family as he always has

Of course, he feels bad, lucid as he is he can see how they covet you, how they stress you and pull you so thin you might disappear but he cannot let you go, he hopes you forgive him.

He does pity you, is fond of you and your softer nature in the cave of monsters that lurk around for you as their sole prey and he’ll protect you as much as he can but ever since they've had you the manor has a bit lighter and they've smiled so much more he cannot truly let you go

He’ll provide everything but freedom, he'll coddle you through the transition and until he too must take his place in a grave but he begs of you to stay by his family of beasts

You're his only hope 

Author's Note: Dipping my toes back into writing - if this seems familiar it's because it's a reupload! I was previously known as lovesick laboratories but my mental health took a nose dive but I'm back!

Tags: yandere batfam, yandere dc, yandere batfam x reader, bruce wayne x reader, dick grayson x reader, jason todd x reader, tim drake x reader, damian wayne x reader

[seoulzie]

summer lovin'

synopsis: a sun-soaked beach day turns unexpectedly tense when a stranger encroaches on the couple's idyllic summer outing

彡 pairing: beomgyu x afab!reader 彡 genre: fluff, suggestive (?) 彡 warnings: explicit content, foul language, unwanted advances, physical intimacy, moaning ???

SEUL SPEAKS! its been awhile... i took a lil vacation so i couldn't write as often ㅠㅠ hope this somehow makes up for it!

the summer sun blazed overhead, casting golden rays over the bustling beach. the sound of waves crashing against the shore mingled with laughter and the distant calls of seagulls. you and beomgyu had decided to spend the day soaking up the sun and enjoying the carefree atmosphere. the beach was crowded, but it only added to the vibrant energy of the day.

the beach was a bustling tapestry of colorful umbrellas, sunbathers, and playful children building sandcastles as you and beomgyu searched for the perfect spot to claim as your own. the rhythmic crash of waves provided a soothing soundtrack to your search.

finally, you stumbled upon a secluded patch of sand, just a stone’s throw from the water’s edge. it was sheltered by a cluster of palm trees, offering dappled shade and a sense of privacy. beomgyu spread out the large, striped beach blanket with a satisfied grin while you set about anchoring the umbrella firmly into the sand.

as soon as the last grain of sand was settled, you couldn’t contain your excitement any longer, with a squeal of delight, you bounced on your toes, your eyes fixed on the shimmering expanse of blue.

"let's go swim!" you said, already taking a step towards the water.

beomgyu grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. "whoa, hold on there, fishy," he said with a laugh. "don't forget to put on sunscreen. i don't want you to come crying to me because you look like a boiled lobster."

you pouted but couldn't help but laugh at his words. "fine, fine. hand it over."

he pulled out a bottle of sunscreen from the beach bag and handed it to you. you quickly applied it to your arms and legs, eager to get into the water. when you finished, you realized you couldn't reach your back.

"can you help me with my back?" you asked, holding out the bottle to beomgyu.

he smirked, “what do i get in return?" he teased, his eyes glinting with amusement.

you leaned in slightly, "how about i make it worth your while?" you suggested, your voice low and inviting.

a shameless smile crept across his face. the world seemed to slow down for a moment as you locked eyes with him. the promise of something more hung heavy in the air.

but then, as if snapping out of a trance, he chuckled, "alright, alright, you tease," and took the bottle of sunscreen from you

you turned around and pulled your hair to the side, exposing your back to him. the sun warmed your skin, but the anticipation of his touch made it feel like a furnace. 

he squeezed a generous amount of sunscreen onto his fingers, and you felt a shiver run through you as the cool liquid touched your heated skin. his hands were soft but firm, the touch sending a delicious chill across your back. the initial sensation of the sunscreen was a stark contrast to the warmth of his fingers, making every stroke feel electric.

beomgyu's fingers moved slowly, almost tauntingly, as he spread the sunscreen across your back. the sensation was a mixture of pleasure and vulnerability. you could feel the warmth of his palms and the gentle pressure of his fingertips as he worked. his touch was deliberate, and as his hands moved lower, a tension began to build between you.

the sensuality of his touch was palpable, each movement infused with a tender yet provocative intent. his fingertips traced intricate patterns over your skin, barely brushing over the sensitive areas, which made you gasp involuntarily.

you closed your eyes, trying to focus on the feel of the sunscreen, but it was difficult to concentrate. every brush of his hands sent a ripple of sensation through your body. you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

his palms pressed down lightly, spreading the sunscreen with careful, deliberate pressure. it wasn’t just the sensation of the sunscreen but the way his touch seemed to linger just a fraction too long, savoring the contact. as he moved closer to your lower back, you could feel the warmth of his breath mixing with the lingering coolness of the sunscreen, creating a blend of sensations.

with each movement, beomgyu’s fingers seemed to dance closer to your hips, where the skin was more sensitive. he paused there for a moment, his hands hovering tantalizingly close. the tension in the air was thick enough to be cut with a knife, and you could feel your heart racing, pounding heavily against your ribcage. the anticipation was almost unbearable.

finally, as his hands neared the edge of your lower back, you let out a soft moan, unable to stifle the response to his lingering touch. he chuckled, the sound a low, sultry rumble that resonated through his chest and made your skin prickle with awareness. his breath was warm and teasing against your sensitive skin, his touch leaving a trail of heat that lingered long after he’d finished.

"relax," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "i won't bite."

but you knew better. his touch was a bite of its own, a thrilling, intoxicating poison and you were completely under his spell.

as he finished applying the sunscreen, and his hands lingered on your skin for a moment longer before pulling away. you turned to face him, your heart still racing. he was looking at you with a knowing smile, his eyes filled with a desire that matched your own.

as beomgyu finished spreading the sunscreen across your back, his hands lingering just a bit longer than necessary, you turned around to face him, a playful glint in your eye.

“well, if this is your way of convincing me to stay out of the sun, i might just end up needing a second dose,” you teased, your voice dripping with amusement. “you’re dangerously good at this.”

beomgyu’s eyes sparkled with desire. he leaned in closer, his lips almost brushing against yours. “is that so? maybe i should find more excuses to touch you like this,” he murmured, his breath warm and tantalizing against your face.

before he could close the distance, you grinned mischievously and darted away, your laughter ringing out as you made a beeline for the sea. “you’ll have to catch me first!” you called over your shoulder, your voice carrying a hint of challenge.

beomgyu’s expression shifted from surprised to amused as he watched you sprint towards the water. his eyes followed you with a mix of affection and exasperation, clearly entertained by your playful escape. “you’re impossible!” he shouted after you, shaking his head with a grin as he took off in pursuit.

𓏲 𓇼 * ~ !

as the day wore on, you and beomgyu took breaks from swimming to relax on the beach, build sandcastles, and enjoy the snacks you had brought. it was a perfect day, filled with laughter and joy.

eventually, the heat became intense, and you decided to take a break from the water. beomgyu offered to get some food for both of you, suggesting you stay behind and relax under the umbrella.

"i'll be right back," he said, flashing a smile before heading off towards the food stalls.

you settled down on the blanket, enjoying the shade and the gentle breeze coming from the ocean. as you watched the waves, a guy from a nearby group playing beach volleyball noticed you and walked over, a confident smile on his face.

"hey there," he greeted, looking you up and down. "you here alone?"

you shook your head. "no, i'm with my boyfriend. he's just getting us some food."

he raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing you. "boyfriend, huh? well, if he's not around, maybe i can keep you company?"

you shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to be rude but also not interested. "no, thanks. i'm fine."

joon, the guy, persisted, stepping a bit closer. "come on, just a chat. you look like you could use some fun."

the closer he got, the more uncomfortable you felt. you could sense his gaze lingering on you, making your skin crawl. "seriously, i'm not interested," you said more firmly, hoping he'd take the hint.

hyeonu smirked, leaning in. "are you sure about that? you seem a bit lonely."

before you could respond, you saw beomgyu approaching, his expression darkening as he took in the scene. he walked straight up to hyeonu, standing between the two of you.

"is there a problem here?" beomgyu asked, his tone firm and cold.

hyeonu glanced at beomgyu and then went back to you. "just talking to your girl, man. no harm done."

beomgyu's eyes narrowed. "well, she's not interested. so, if you don't mind, fuck off and let us enjoy our day."

hyeonu held up his hands in mock surrender. "alright, alright. didn't mean to cause any trouble." he backed away, rejoining his group.

you turned to beomgyu, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude. "thanks, gyu."

he sighed, obviously still agrivated "who the fuck was he?"

you smiled and reached up to cup his face, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "you don't have to worry. i'm all yours."

the tension left his shoulders. but his grumbling continued. "that guy was such an asshole. like, seriously, who does he think he is? just coming over and—"

you cut him off with another kiss, your lips gentle but firm against his. "gyu, it's okay. he's gone now."

he sighed against your lips, his frustration slowly dissipating. "i just hate seeing guys like that. they have no respect."

"i know," you whispered, kissing him again. "but i'm with you. no one else."

beomgyu's arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. "yeah, you're right. i just... i can't help it sometimes."

you smiled against his lips, feeling his tension melt away with each kiss. "it's okay. now, let's enjoy this food you got."

he grinned and nodded, setting the food down on the blanket. you both sat down and started eating, the earlier tension melting away with each bite.

as the sun began its descent, casting a golden glow over the beach, you and beomgyu walked hand-in-hand along the shore. the sky was a canvas of pink, orange, and purple, streaked with the softest hues of blue. the rhythmic crash of waves against the rocks provided a soothing soundtrack to your peaceful stroll.

you paused to watch the waves, the salty spray misting your skin. the world seemed to slow down as you took in the beauty of the sunset. turning to beomgyu, you found him watching you with a tender expression in his eyes.

"this was the perfect day," you said, your voice soft. the gentle breeze carried your words away, but the look in beomgyu's eyes told you he had heard.

he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "it was," he agreed, his voice filled with a contentment that mirrored your own. "i'm glad i got to spend it with you."

you leaned in and kissed him softly. the taste of salt and sun was on his lips, and it was intoxicating. as you pulled away, you looked into his eyes. they were filled with a love so deep and profound, it took your breath away.

"me too," you whispered, your heart full.

they walked on in companionable silence for a while, their hands clasped tightly together. the fading light cast long shadows, stretching out across the sand. the air was cool now, carrying the promise of a crisp evening.

"i don't want this day to end," you said, breaking the silence.

beomgyu squeezed your hand. "we don't have to let it," he replied. "we can make more days like this."

a warmth spread through you and this time iit was more than just the lingering warmth of the sun. it was the warmth of love, of shared experiences. you turned to face him, your eyes sparkling with a mixture of happiness and anticipation.

"i like the sound of that," you replied.

as darkness began to envelop the beach, you and beomgyu made your way back to the car. the drive home was quiet, filled with the comfortable silence of two people deeply connected. the memory of the day, from the laughter-filled morning to the intimate sunset, was etched into your mind. and as you drifted off to sleep that night, with beomgyu's arm around you, you knew that this was just the beginning of the story.

⋆˚࿔ taglist! @flowzel , @izzyy-stuff , @tjneeygyvz, @beombeomlovesme, @s0urcherry , @rianrishu, @blossommi ⤷ want to get notified? click here!

© 2024 seoulzie

[live-love-be-unique]

Misery’s your master

Summary: After an emotionally and physically draining mission Ghost finds you alone at the barracks.

This is my first attempt at writing angst, please be gentle!

Parings: Ghost x f reader

Warnings: mentions of death.

The mission should have been routine. Except intel had mentioned nothing about hostages; women and children that the cartel had locked in the warehouse. You’d tried to open the door before Gaz had shouted that it was rigged with explosives, and someone grabbed you, pulling you away just before the explosives were detonated. Killing all inside.

You’d been back on base for over a week now and everyone was treating you with kid gloves. Soap had tried to check in with you but at that point you were so sick of everyone asking how you were that you took a swing at him, after that Price insisted it was time that you speak to the base therapist. It wasn’t a bad idea, you hadn’t eaten or slept in days; the nights were the worst, you stayed awake replaying scenarios in your head, hearing the explosion over and over again.

For the first time in a week you had left your room, making your way to the mess hall and taking a seat as far towards the back of the room as you could find. Pulling your hood over your head and trying to eat something, anything that you could keep down, you felt the eyes of your teammates burning into you.

The hall suddenly became too much. The lights were too bright, the sounds and the voices overlapping each other was overwhelming. Your blood pounded in your ears, heart thudding in your chest. You had to get away. You couldn’t stay in that damned room anymore. With your breath heaving in your lungs, you push your way through the door and make your way towards a terrace at the end of the hallway. Standing in the open feeling the cold air against your skin you gasp, visions of civilians; of the women and children you couldn’t save replaying in your mind. Your hands trembled as you pull your lighter out of your jacket pocket. Clicking the lighter as hard as you can, it wouldn’t light. Frustrated, you sigh around the cigarette between your lips.

“Thought you didn’t smoke” a deep voice came from beside you. Glancing over you spot Ghost leaning against the railing, holding his own lighter under the cigarette still dangling from your lips.

“I don’t, generally” you mutter, inhaling and blowing the smoke into the night air. Watching for a moment, the way the smoke rings curled through the sky.

“How are you?” He questioned, pocketing his lighter.

“Nothing a shower and a good night’s sleep can’t fix” you shrug, avoiding his eyes.

He stared at you, “I’m going to ask you again how you are and I would like you to answer me honestly”

You don’t answer, turning your eyes back to the stars as you take a shaky breath. A warm pressure settles across your hand, looking down you see Ghost’s gloved hand resting atop yours. You let it settle there, his thumb tracing circles on your skin, anchoring your body as you took a shaky breath “I can’t get it out of my head, I can hear them screaming for me to help them. I should have…”

“Come on” He grunted, stepping back from the railing.

“What?”

“Hit me”

“I’m not going to hit you”

“You wanted to take a swing at something. You took a shot at Soap the other day” Ghost shrugged.

You stared at each other for a moment before you balled your fist and struck Ghost in the chest. “Again” he said.

Ghost kept saying “again” as he let he you hit him until you were gasping for breath and fat, heavy tears streaked down your face. You drew back your fist for one final hit but Ghost easily caught it; pulling you close against his chest as he held you tight, one large hand securely against your back holding you firmly against him and the other cradling the back of your head.

“The door was rigged. You were never going to get it open, the cartel had eyes on it the whole time. They wanted us in the warehouse when they blew it up” his voice was low and deep, you could feel his breath against your ear. “You tried to free them. Remember that, hold on to that”

You don’t know how long the two of you stood there like that. He let you cling onto him like a life raft as you cried out everything you had.

“…Thank you” you mumbled, pulling away whipping at your eyes with your sleeve. A door opened and the two of you watched as a group of recruits spilled out of the doorway.

“Don’t blame yourself for what happened” Ghost said, his eyes boring into yours.

“I’ll…I’m trying”

Ghost’s eyes soften at your response, you can hear him breathe out one word, with all the kindness in the world.

There is something so comforting about the simple phrase.

“Good,” he says quietly.

His hand moves to your face, to gently trace the skin on your cheek. A tiny muscle by Ghost’s jaw twitches as he watches you.

Almost as if he is suddenly realized what he was doing, his hand drops from your face and he steps back, glancing towards the door where the recruits came from.

“Make sure you eat something” he said before turning and heading towards his room. You stood alone in the dark for a moment before returning to the mess hall, a small plate of food in front of you almost as if Ghost’s words were the balm your soul needed.

[jennifer-jeong]

haiii!! could I put in a request for boothill x an alcoholic engineer reader who’s personality takes a complete 180 when drunk? Like when sober they’re really quiet and a total introvert but when drunk they���re basically a party animal/super hype(the reason why they drink so much is because it helps them forget about their life problems like taxes and student loan debt, if I had to compare the reader’s personality to a character I’d say hiroi kikuri from bocchi the rock) but they’re like crazy smart when it comes to machines and stuff and even fixes up boothill from time to time

headcanons or a small fic is fine^^

HII I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I’ve just been out of the groove of writing for a bit but your request is so cute and I wanted to take a shot at it. Thank you for your request and I hope you like it!

Fluff + Suggestive | Boothill x GN!Reader A Few Drinks

CONTENT Fluff, suggestive, him flirting with you, you flirting with him, getting handsy, alcohol consumption, pet name usage, no reader pronouns used, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

WORD COUNT: 1227

It was a regular Friday afternoon in your personal workshop situated in your home on a planet not far off from Penacony and easily accessible via space anchors. The planet was mostly made up of plains, your house sat near a pond and was surrounded by grass and your tiny gardens that you filled with flowers and succulents. You were an excellent engineer working both for corporations as well as taking on smaller private contracts/projects occasionally. You were currently working on a specific cyborg’s finger joint, putting the finishing touches on the cybernetics before he came to have it attached to his robotic body.

You heard a familiar clicking of boots against the sidewalk to your open workshop door before an equally familiar greeting from the cyborg cowboy.

“Heya sweetheart, how ya been? Hows my dumb fudging finger treatin ya?” he chirped, his voice slightly grainy and robotic due to a lack of organic vocal chords.

You swivel around in your chair, giving him a small smile. “Your pinky was pretty messed up but I managed,” you replied quietly, a little anxious talking to the -handsome- man you knew killed people on the daily.

“Ah, ya always fix me up fine and dandy, I knew you’d be able to help,” he said as he walked towards your workbench.

You gave him a small chuckle at the praise and turned around to grab the fixed finger. “Thanks… now just have a seat on the-” you were cut off by turning slightly and being met with his face awfully close to yours. He had leaned over your shoulder to take a closer look at your work, his hands held behind his back.

Your eyes widened as you froze for a moment, unintentionally staring at him before looking away. He was looking at your work but when you turned away he took the opportunity to scan over your flustered self, grinning slightly at how cute you were.

You always treated him so sweetly, disregarding what he did for work because you knew about his past. How could he not find you adorable?

He pulled away to walk towards the table that doubled as an operating table when he or your other clients needed bigger fixes.

“Here?” he says knowingly.

You nod quickly before grabbing a few tools and setting up to attach the part back to his synthetic nervous system.

It was a painful few minutes of him watching you intently as you worked. He was sitting up, leaning back on his right hand, legs spread as he got comfy. His left hand was propped up into a sleeve to keep it still as you worked on it. You tried hard to not look up at him despite knowing he was staring down at you the entire time, probably with that teasing grin he always wore around you.

Once you were done and he finished paying you (with a generous tip no less), he suddenly wondered what you’d be doing since the work week just ended.

“So, whadda ya doin after closin’ up shop today? Ya ever go out for Friday happy hour?”

You whipped your head around to him at the mention of drinking before looking down at the ground, hoping you didn’t seem too eager to talk about alcohol.

“Y-yeah, I go every weekend,” you replied.

He raised an eyebrow and chuckled, “really? Ya didn’t really strike me as the drinkin’ type darlin’.”

You swallowed at his use of pet name.

“Yeah… it helps me get my mind off work and shit,” you shared with him, figuring it was fine to tell him about it since you already started to get to know each other pretty well during his visits. It was hard to explain, but you trusted him.

“Huh… Well, let’s fudgin’ go then!” He says, jumping off the table. “Lemme know when ya ready darlin”.”

“W-whoa there darlin’” Boothill says for the nth time after you two got to a vintage looking club in the city. You were stumbling a bit as he tried to prevent you from knocking anything over or getting yourself hurt. You kept bumping into him, grabbing onto his arms or his chest to stabilize yourself.

It was your turn to fluster the man.

After all the times he’d made you shy and bashful, him feeling your hands all over him in this context and not during some sort of repair procedure was really setting off his sensors.

You giggled in your drunken state and dragged him by his hand to the crowded dance floor. The current song was just ending and you heard the first few beats of one of your favorite songs. The crowd clearly also liked the song as you all started getting hyped. You started jumping and dancing in front of him as you held his shoulders. You even grabbed the attention of some nearby girls as they encouraged you and you did the same to them.

Boothill’s expression slowly morphed from curious shock to an endearing smirk as he laughed at your total 180 shift in personality as soon as you had a few drinks. His hands found your hips as you continued to dance all over him while he moved with the rhythm.

It was also in this moment that he realized exactly what you were wearing too, it was a pretty, skin tight top and ripped shorts, completely different from the baggy overalls and t-shirt you usually wore in the workshop.

He felt his body’s cooling system kick in a bit harder.

You noticed his eyes on you as you always did, but this time, with alcohol in your system, you decided to do something about it.

You pushed him into a nearby bar stool, forcing him to sit down and lean against the bar counter. You stood between his legs, hands on his chest as you leaned towards his face.

“Thanks for coming out with me Bootie~” you said with your eyes lidded, batting your eyelashes at him. His breath hitched at the sudden nickname usage that you’ve call him by before.

“I’ve been stressed about shit recently but this is fun” you giggle, “we should do it more often,” you add, looking him up and down, something he doesn’t miss.

He relaxes slightly, hands finding their place on your waist again as his signature grin comes out. You could tell he was still pretty flustered though, he was into it, but still a bit shy.

“You’re always looking at me like that, Bootie,” you say as you trace a finger on the underside of his jaw, making him look at you. “I don’t say it when I’m not drunk… but I hope y’know I don’t mind it,” you say with a smile and lidded eyes. Your finger trails off the bottom of his chin as he ever so slightly chases your touch.

You giggle again at his reactions to you, feeling a bit giddy knowing that he was as into you as you were into him.

You push off him to run back to the dance floor, calling out to him with the nickname you just gave him.

The cowboy adjusts his hat before blinking a few times, smiling, and exhaling the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

He follows you back to the dance floor as he thinks “I’m fudged.”

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[peargreen-jellybean]

random, poolverine hurt/comfort idea. wade is a little less insane in this bc i think he mellows out a bit at home and bc i’m too lazy to write more

(below cut if you give a shit)

after the time ripper

logan wakes up and expects to be in an alleyway or the back of a bar bc the owner was too nervous to make him leave. expects a hard surface and broken glass in his chest. but he’s on a crappy couch, in clothes not belonging to him, and inside what looks like an apartment

the memories sluggishly come back, almost too absurd to believe, but when he’s fully awake he hears a radio and cautiously follows the sound to, he discovers, a kitchen

and there’s wade fucking wilson, wearing “i <3 hot dads” shorts, an apron, crocs. no shirt, no mask. turning a toaster this way and that, and shaking it like he wants information from it

wade notices the lingering man in the doorway, chirps a ‘good morning peanut’, gestures to a “hero’s breakfast” and tells his guest to help himself. the toaster is being a dick right now and he’s trying to fix it

a bit taken back, at the sheer domestic-ness of it all, logan drops into a seat at the wobbly table and takes the tabletop in. half burned toast, mostly scrambled eggs, and an assortment of other breakfast time items he hasn’t really seen, much less eaten, in years

what does it? old memories and guilts, recent events and their pains, the familiar smell of coffee, wade grumbling at the counter over a broken toaster like a strange picture of domestic living? really it could be anything, but logan starts to tremble in his seat. something is tight in his chest, too tight and still tightening. it’s overwhelming. too much at once

is he really going to break down here, now, in wade fucking wilson’s kitchen, wearing his worn-soft clothes and listening to a quiet song on the radio?

yeah, he is. fucking pathetic

but logan is startled out of his spiral by:

fingers sliding into his hair. a hand tugging at his head. his face pressing into a warm, solid body

wade has abandoned his toaster and now cradles him to his hip

logan yanks his head away with a ‘what the fuck are you doing’, or he tries to. wade doesn’t let him escape far, pulling him back into the dip of his hip. gently holding him and rubbing his scalp with his fingertips once he feels logan give up the fight

‘easy peanut.’ wade hesitates for a moment. ‘vanessa used to do this… when shit got really bad.’

he doesn’t elaborate. he doesn’t have to. the weight of the softly spoken words is enough.

and while he wants to fight it- he doesn’t need sentimental crap or pity- logan takes a breath just long enough to pause here in this moment, and let’s himself feel

wade is constant, steady; the weight of his hand gentle, but grounding. the dip of his hip holding his head near perfectly. the warmth of him seeping into his skin, then flesh, then bones, settling in his chest

wade is anchoring him

maybe he should fight this, or be annoyed, or just generally pissed at the coddling, but when was the last time he was held like this? comforted like this?

wade will be insufferable after this, probably smug and a whole new level of too comfortable touching him, but right now, right here, he’s calming. he’s- something logan can’t quite name

and call him weak, call him pathetic- because maybe he is- he’s gonna savor this for as long as he can

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

that’s it. that’s all i got. enjoy, or don’t. that’s up to you ig

[threepandas]

Bad End - Chosen: Part 2

Back <- | -> Next

When I remember the game, I mostly remember the outfits. The frills and ornate designs. In another life, I adored them. Now? They disgust me.

They disgust me because I know EXACTLY what it takes to make each and every dress the heroine so thoughtlessly runs through. Flinging herself through mud and climbing up trees in the name of be "plucky". Tearing them for bandages, as though she is not a SAINT with the power of the very GODS at her finger tips. All manner of so called "cute" actions that... that in reality?

Are thoughtless.

Needlessly, cruelly thoughtless.

It takes months to make even a single one of those dresses. Months. Heavy magic is involved. They defy gravity, are delicate and soft in ways no normal cloth could ever BE. The jewels on them? Ha. You think those came from earthly mines? Who could AFFORD that? No one. Not a single soul.

I once worked on some. For the daughter of a Duke. Awkward little thing. In turns, arrogant and insecure. More lonely then anything else. I was the first girl her age that WASN'T trying to use her for family or stab her in the back. It flustered her terribly. She kept coming up with reasons the dress "wasn't right" just so she could delay having to go home.

Never did admit to wanting to be friends.

But she DID graciously allow me to send her letters. Visit, on occasion.

I... I truely hope she made it out alive, when her Dukedom fell. Her family guarded the western front for generations. She was so stubborn. I... I doubt she fled. But in my heart? I hope she did.

I hope she was selfish.

Everyone else gets to be. That BITCH, gets to be. So why not her? Why not that insecure child? Bratty and bold? Why not Cordelia, who only ever wanted to make her bastard of a father proud? Why... w-why not me?

My anger isn't gone, when I open my eyes. But my exhaustion and sorrow are far stronger. I can't feel my magic. It would be a suprise too. What fool, after all, captures a Mage then let's them keep their access? Even a mouse is dangerous, given enough time, as the saying goes. And I was no mouse.

I hang in a remarkably pretty room, for a dungeon. My arms do not even strain. I suspect I am partially floating. Not enough for leverage, but enough that my weight is not hanging from my arms. I am merely anchored by them. It has the added benefit, I suspect, of keeping me from using the floor to aid in any escape plans.

There is a comfortable chair placed in front of where I hang. Ominous. Is my suffering going to be a show then? Some amusement? They'll be disappointed. I refuse to give them the satisfaction. I know people break. But I'll bite my tongue long befo-

My dark musings are cut off, by the quite sound of a door opening on well oiled hinges into a dead silent room. The crisp step of a powerful man, assured of his place, his path. The door is behind me, yet I already know who has just entered the room. Fear, rage, and confusion have already SEARED that scent into my brain. I will die knowing it.

I grit my teeth and refuse to acknowledge him.

"Awake and already in quite the mood, I see. Understandable, I suppose, Grandlearner." The MONSTER who has me, muses, his voice terribly pleasant. "You were in quite the wretched state. Still are, unfortunately, but we will be fixing that."

I want to hiss like a cat. It is beneath me. Would probably do nothing but amuse him. But I suddenly understand the animal more then I ever have before. If he gets near me, I will BITE. I swear to the very gods I DISPISE. I will do it!

He strolls into my field of vision holding a silver serving tray. Little dishes of finger foods. I have a sinking suspicion but immediately shove it away. No. No, it is probably for him. The tray is placed upon a side table, next to the chair. He hasn't looked at me directly yet. Merely fussing as though hosting a guest.

He stands up, finished. Turns. And SMILES.

The fear I have been so desperately trying to control breaks from of my desperate hands. I jerk back in the chains, as far as I am able. Cold sweat beading up across my skin. I can't run. Even if I could, this close? I'd never make it. But primal instincts do not listen to reason. Run, run, RUN! It HOWLS in my brain.

There has never been a more dangerous man.

He is not even threatening me.

He's just not hiding.

He hums, amused as I shake. Gentle steps forward. Gloved hands I can not escape. They cup my face as my lungs feel like they are burning with panic. Brain certain he is moments from tightening his grip, brutally, and snapping my neck. It never comes. His hands dangerously gentle. Stroking my cheeks possessively.

"Look at you... so malnourished. Barely trained at all. My poor Grandlearner," he all but sighs, as though he is looking at the proof of some great crime. Some failing against him. "Look how useless that boy has been. Dropping you in battlefields to do his job for him, while he goes panting after children a fraction his age. A lecherous failure at every turn. More a temple's dog then a mage."

The air has slowly turned to burning ice, as he grows angrier. But his eye flicks down to meet mine, no longer staring through me, but AT me. And his smile warms. It is a manic, mad man's warmth. Like the burning of a city. He slides his hands down to cup my neck, cradle my head. I freeze. Too afraid of the hands on my neck to protest as he leans forward to press a kiss to my forhead.

"Mmmm, but enough of that. No more bad thoughts. Let us focus on the now. You, my dear child, need to eat. And I have so much to LEARN about you! So many years lost between us. I have brought several dishes for you to try."

An incredulous laugh found itself trapped in my throat. Is he serious? He has me chained up like a trophy, has BUTCHERED my men, unknown intentions towards me, and he... what? Wants me to eat adorable little snacky treats?

He is completely serious.

And, I find out, has no problem forcing me to open my mouth. If I "can not behave myself", that is. I see, all to clearly, what his plan is. Stockholm Syndrome. Brainwashing. But... but being AWARE of something does not stop it from WORKING on you. How long can I hold out?

Longer then this cycle? Will he remember, as I do? Try to find me again? I don't know. Without my magic, I can not fight the fear. Even with my magic... he is the dragon to my ant. I can not even hope to match my Master, much less HIS Master. And the legendary Arch-Mage of Red? It would be easier to drain a lake with a spoon. Move a desert handful by handful.

Hands that have slaughtered countless, card themselves through my hair, as I am once again forced to eat some little decadence that tastes like ash and ruin on my tounge.

"See? Isn't this so much better?" He croons, too close and triumphant. A mockery of doting grandfather's everwhere. "With Grandmaster here, you'll never have worry about a thing. We'll correct your training, get you back where your supposed to be, and together? Fix this broken world. Be GODS. You'll be such a shining little God, sweet one. Spring, perhaps? We can pick the domain you want together~"

"I'll help you kill them. Take their heart and devour it. Then? Nothing will ever be able to take you from me ever again. No, not ever, ever again."

[l0velylecter]

Sfw first kiss headcanons with our boys please 🥺

— the cod : mw ii men + first kiss ! characters : simon ‘ghost’ riley, john ‘soap’ mactavish, alejandro vargas, captain john price, phillip graves, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick, rodolfo parra fandom : call of duty modern warfare ii tags : gn!reader, headcanons, drabble  rating : t for teen and up audiences , sfw!

01 | His hands were steady against your shoulders as Price kissed you. You caught a whiff of tobacco as he pressed in deeper: only moving his hand against your cheek to angle your face better when you reciprocated the kiss. He starts slow and sure, moving with purpose as if he wants to savor the moment. Then there was the gradual build-up of passion, and he only remembers you're human and need to breathe when you pull away to rest your forehead against his shoulder: blushing and smiling from how his beard tickled your chin.

02 | Soap is overly excited as he crashes his lips into yours, nearly toppling you if he hadn't looped his arms around your waist. Your hands were on his hair, his neck. The sound of you laughing in between kisses echoed down the hallway. He tells you how much he's wanted this, and you can feel it against your lips, happiness pouring out of the way he peppers kisses along your nose and forehead. When you pulled away, breathless and flushed, he cupped your face with both hands, thumbs stroking the apple of your cheek. 03 | Gaz is still against your lips, stunned and unmoving. For a second, you thought you read him wrong, pulling away to apologize only to have him put both hands on either side of your cheeks to reel you in. He's gentle and awfully tender that it makes your heart ache, even if you can sense a hint of excitement simmer underneath, his hands already finding their way to tuck the strands of hair behind your ear. Even when you break it off, he was still staring at you: expression somewhat awestruck and shy.  04 | You can feel the tension melting off his shoulders when you kiss him as if he had been holding his breath around you for a very long time, harboring the weight of his affection all alone. And so you feel his devotion against your lips, generous and passionate, Alejandro's kiss felt like an embrace. You were both nearly moved to tears: years of pinning and longing have finally ended. And you can sense that from how he cradled your neck and your face to kiss you back, murmuring sweet nothings in between. 05 | He kissed you uncertainly, hesitating because Rodolfo couldn't tell if he was dreaming or awake. Yet the weight of your fingers against his ear, nails gently scratching the back of his neck, assured him that this was real; this was happening. Eyes wide with shock, he only had moments to recover before his body moved to return the gesture. Even when he's over the moon, he is still delicate in kissing you: careful and considerate. When you stopped, he was red all the way down to his neck, rubbing a hand behind his head to look away, afraid he might combust from embarrassment. 06 | You expected Graves to be sloppy and impatient when he kisses, yet he was anything but that. Every inch of his kiss tastes like fire. Whatever he felt for you ran deep and sure, personified in how quickly he eliminated the remaining gap between you to deepen the kiss. His hands were warm and rough, a comforting weight against your hip and neck. When he pulled away to search your expression, you noted how this was the first time you saw him so vulnerable: raw with emotion and want. So you let him kiss you, again and again, and again, until he's chuckling against your mouth. 07 | When you kissed him, you expected Ghost to be angry; for him to turn you down and leave you under the rain alone. Yet he stayed. He stayed with a hand tangled in your hair and another cupping your cheek. The balaclava is pulled up to his nose so he can fix the awkward kiss you had given him against the mask. He gripped you tightly, anchoring you as he kissed you sternly. It felt sad, bittersweet, almost like he was holding himself back. And when he pulled away, it felt like a goodbye. Your first kiss with Simon felt like it was also your last. To your surprise, once you were alone and out of the field, Simon gave it another go: this time, he was the one who was asking you to trust him, lips careful and asking for permission. And you did trust him

a/n : thank you anon for sending in this sweet and lovely request, sorry for the super long wait, i was busy with school but now the holidays are starting so enjoy ! i hope this lives up to your expectations <3 i had fun writing this ! I wrote something similar to this previously, so i hope you don’t mind if i include the links to them here to share !

how the cod : mw ii men kiss you series vol i, vol ii, vol iii

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 23: Established Relationship

Digital | @ididitallofitforyou Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,063 Main Tags/Warnings: Established Relationship, Kissing Summary: Cas and Jack tell Dean about their day at the farmers market. Flirty texting, family dinners, and movie nights included.

Anchor in Storm | @tami-ryver Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,086 Main Tags/Warnings: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel Takes Care of Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Castiel, Angry Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, Angst, Angst and Feels Summary: Dean knows as it has been the subject of more then enough of their fights. Of course, Cas doesn't see it that way. He always says that he needs to know and that it's for a good cause, which in Dean' mind is a load of bullshit. But, he can't tell Cas that, as it will fire him even more and most fights if not all, end up with a lot of angry sex.

That Takes Me Back | @blessyourhondahurley Rating: General Word Count: 1,170 Main Tags/Warnings: alternate universe, domestic fluff, high school, established relationship Summary: Dean and Cas reminisce about how it all began...

Restless | @blessyourhondahurley Rating: Mature Word Count: 1,748 Main Tags/Warnings: Wedding fluff Summary: After a (mostly) sleepless night, Dean wakes to a very special, and very busy, day.

this is the only thing i've ever had any faith it | @watchinghimrakeleaves Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3,760 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Marriage Proposal, Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Dean Winchester is Jack Kline's Parent, Human Castiel, Supportive Sam Winchester, Retired Hunter Dean Winchester Summary: The world is safe, Dean and Cas own a bar on the beach, and Dean is ready to ask Cas for something he could have never imagined he was allowed to have.

Sturdy | @shishquahcustardtree Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,065 Main Tags/Warnings: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, top!Castiel, bottom!Dean, post 15x18, fluff and smut, canon divergent, no 15x20, post Castiel Empty rescue Summary: It’s been four weeks since Castiel was rescued from The Empty. Four weeks of a confession of Deans own, soft kisses, and indecent public exposure (and a very tired Sam). The Dean-Cave needs a new couch. Dean wants Castiel to go with him. Sam wants to not have to bail them out of the local police station again. Dean wants to keep the real reason for the new couch a secret until the very end.

Making Pie | @ididitallofitforyou Rating: General Word Count: 5,018 Main Tags/Warnings: Adoption, Family, Meet Cute, Established Relationship Summary: Cas and Dean have been waiting to adopt for years. Claire, Emma, and Jack just lost their parents in a car accident. Are Cas and Dean ready to go from zero to three kids all at once?

Under Lock and Key | @teeparadigm67 Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10,215 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Handcuffs, Enochian Handcuffs, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Light Bondage, Sex in the Men of Letters Bunker, Poor Sam Winchester he's seen too much, Porn with Feelings Summary: He thought he was a damn genius when the inspiration struck him, noticing the glint of metal while rearranging Babys’ weapon’s arsenal. But now, with every step he took walking from the garage, the doubt started to seep in. The sex was a fairly new dynamic to their relationship but now Dean had gotten a taste, he was hooked. There was however just one tiny little problem, Castiel’s grace surges. It did wonders for his ego, knowing that every time they had sex Cas’s grace would become so powerful that it would blow the bunkers' power. But after one too many “electrical mishaps,” his angelic boyfriend had taken a vow of chastity, not wanting to risk damage to the bunker's electrics or anywhere else for that matter. It's not that Cas wasn’t offering Dean enjoyment, but it’s just so much better when there are two at play. He needed to try something, anything to get Cas out of that damn trench coat and into his bed again, and hopefully, the Enochian handcuffs that sat heavily in his back pocket might be the solution to all their problems. (That's if Cas would be on board with the idea.)

What I Put You Through | @macy2me Rating: Mature Word Count: 17,921 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Getting divorced, Sad boys don't use their words right, Secrets, Kidnapping, Angst, Lots of Angst, All aboard the train of angst, Destination: Happy ending, Getting Back Together, Jack is in trouble, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, I promise there is a happy ending Summary: “Jack’s missing,” his almost ex-husband speaks the words no parent ever wants to hear. This is a story about two men that have fallen out of love but must come together to get their only child back.

Good Times, Bad Times, Past Times | @lazarus-rose Rating: Explicit Word Count: 25,313 Main Tags/Warnings: Time travel, human Castiel, post canon, canon-typical violence, married Castiel/Dean Summary: With his demon deal almost due, Dean didn't foresee much of a future for himself — until he is faced with a version of him from 2023. This apparent future is accompanied by Sam and another man who seems very close to Dean's future self and claims to be a fallen angel. Dean thought he and Cas had finally gotten their happy ending after defeating Chuck and semi-retiring from hunting. But, after Jack informs them of a rogue angel who has gone back in time to kill Dean before he ever went to Hell, the two of them agree to join Sam for one last hunt.

Til Apocalypse Do Us Part | @avonlady42 Rating: Explicit Word Count: 34,920 Main Tags/Warnings: established relationship, married, top castiel/bottom Dean Winchester, switching, fluff and smut, anal sex, supernatural elements, dean winchester wears panties Summary: Dean thought he had the perfect life. He married his high school sweetheart, Castiel, and they lived the apple pie life with the white picket fence. It all goes horribly wrong one day when he wakes up and his husband is suddenly missing. He searches for him and files a missing persons report, but he is nowhere to be found. The apple pie life he thought he had disappeared when his brother and mother let him in on the secret that monsters and angels and demons are real and they hunt them in order to keep the world safe. They think Castiel’s disappearance is somehow connected and Dean agrees to join them if it will bring his husband home. What Dean doesn’t know is there is more to the story than anyone is telling him and it’s up to him to try to figure it out.

[thewulf]

By Your Side || Darrel "Darry" Curtis

Summary: Request - can i request darry curtis x wife!reader please? she stands by his and the boys side, always care and worry about the boys especially ponyboy (because he's like your little brother).... Read Rest Here

A/N: I LOVE how this turned out! Thank you for the request @tsunchani - The three times Darry knew he would love you forever and the one time he did something about it!

Pairing: Darrel "Darry" Curtis x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.3k +

TW: General The Outsiders

One

The Curtis household felt like it was holding its breath, each tick of the clock a solemn reminder of Ponyboy's absence. Darry's footsteps reverberated off the walls like a steady drumbeat, his broad shoulders weighed down by worry, his usually composed demeanor strained under the weight of uncertainty. His brow was furrowed, deep worry lines etched into his forehead, a testament to the sleepless nights and restless pacing.

Soda, usually the embodiment of youthful energy and charisma, sat slumped on the worn couch, his vibrant spirit dampened by the heavy cloud of uncertainty that hung in the air. His hands fidgeted restlessly, tracing invisible patterns on the frayed edges of the cushions, his gaze fixed on the floor as if searching for answers in the worn wood.

And then there was you, standing in the doorway watching the two solemn brothers. With determined steps, you crossed the room, your movements purposeful yet gentle, as if afraid to disturb the fragile peace that hung in the air. The creak of the floorboards beneath your feet barely registered against the backdrop of tension that encased the room.

As you drew closer, the lines of worry etched into Darry and Soda's faces became more pronounced, the worry lingering in their eyes like a shadow refusing to fade. But in your presence, there was a glimmer of hope, a promise of comfort and solace in the midst of chaos. Your unwavering support was a silent reassurance, a reminder that no matter what challenges they faced, they were not alone.

And as you stood before them, a pillar of strength and resilience, the weight of their worries seemed to lift ever so slightly. In that moment, surrounded by uncertainty and fear, they found solace in your presence, knowing that as long as you were by their side, they could weather any storm.

"Darry," you said softly, your voice steady despite the turmoil swirling around you. "We'll find him. Ponyboy's smart, smarter than any of us, he knows how to take care of himself."

Soda glanced up at you, his eyes reflecting a mix of fear and gratitude, like flickering flames in the darkness. His usual bright spirit seemed dimmed, overshadowed by the worry that gnawed at his insides. "Yeah, Pony's tough," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to give voice to his deepest fears. "But what if... what if he's hurt, or..."

You moved to sit beside Soda, the worn cushions of the couch sinking slightly under your weight as you wrapped an arm around his shoulders. The warmth of your touch was a comforting anchor in the sea of uncertainty that threatened to engulf them all. "We'll find him, Soda," you reassured him, your voice soft yet resolute, a steady hand in the midst of the storm. "Ponyboy's resourceful. And if he needs help, he knows we're here for him."

Soda's shoulders sagged with relief at your words, the tension easing from his frame ever so slightly. In that moment, your presence was a lifeline, a reminder that no matter how dire the situation seemed, they were not alone. With your unwavering support, they could face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing that together, they were stronger than any obstacle they might encounter. In your embrace, he found comfort and solace, a brief respite from the turmoil that threatened to consume him.

Darry ran a hand through his hair, the strands falling back into place with a tired resignation. His gaze seemed fixed on the window, as though he could conjure Ponyboy's figure with sheer force of will. "I just can't shake this feeling, Y/N," he confessed, his voice a raw mixture of regret and anguish. "I should've been there for him. I should've been a better brother."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a tangible reminder of the self-doubt that plagued him. You watched him with the burden of responsibility pressing down on his broad shoulders. For once, he seemed so vulnerable, so achingly human, and your heart burned for him.

Reaching out, you gently grasped Darry's hand in yours, the contact a silent reassurance of your unwavering support. "You're a great brother, Darry," you insisted, your voice soft yet firm, determined to break through the walls of self-doubt that threatened to engulf him. "You've done everything you can for him. Sometimes things happen that are out of our control. It got a little heated. But he knows you love him. I promise you that."

Darry's gaze flickered to meet yours, his eyes searching for solace amidst the storm of his own emotions. In your forward gaze, he found a sliver of hope, a reminder that even in his darkest moments, he was not alone. And though the weight of guilt still lingered heavy in his heart, for the first time in days, he felt a flicker of light amidst the darkness.

Darry's eyes met yours, gratitude, and relief flooding through him like a tidal wave. In that moment, as you stood by his side, offering him strength, and understanding, he knew without a doubt that you were his person. You were the one who could ease his troubled mind, who could calm his fears with just a few words.

As you enveloped them both in a comforting embrace, Darry felt a sense of peace wash over him. No matter what challenges they faced, as long as you were by their side, they would get through it together. At this instance, surrounded by uncertainty and fear, Darry realized that he never wanted to spend another day without you by his side.

Two

After the rumble, the weight of exhaustion settled like a heavy fog over the Curtis household. You sat by Ponyboy's bedside, tending to him as he lay weak and feverish, your heart heavy with worry for his well-being after the rumble.

Meanwhile, Darry and Soda hovered nearby, their usual composure shattered by the recent losses of their friends. The absence of Dally and Johnny cast a palpable shadow over their already heavy hearts, each moment weighed down by the gravity of their grief.

Ponyboy's condition only added to the tension in the air. His fever raged unchecked, his breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps. You could see the fear in Darry and Soda's eyes as they watched over him, their concern laced into every line of their faces.

In the dim light of the bedroom, the silence was suffocating, broken only by the occasional cough from Ponyboy's bed. Darry paced back and forth, his brow furrowed with worry, while Soda sat with his head in his hands, his shoulders hunched with the weight of his sorrow.

Despite their best efforts to hide it, the pain worn into their features was unmistakable. They were both nervous and sad, grappling with their own emotions while trying to stay strong for Ponyboy's sake.

And as you continued to care for Ponyboy, offering him comfort and solace in his time of need, you couldn't help but feel the weight of their grief pressing down on you as well. In that moment, surrounded by so much sadness and uncertainty, you knew that you were all in this together, bound by love and loss in equal measure.

Darry, the sturdy rock upon which they all leaned in times of trouble, now stood crumbling under the weight of his emotions. His usually stoic facade shattered, revealing the raw vulnerability beneath as tears threatened to spill from his eyes. Each breath seemed to come harder, as if the weight of his grief pressed down upon him like a suffocating blanket.

With each memory of Dally's fiery spirit and Johnny's quiet courage, Darry's heart clenched with pain, his chest tightening with each beat. He had always been the one to hold them all together, to shoulder the burdens of their troubled lives with unyielding strength. But now, faced with the harsh reality of their losses, he found himself drowning in a sea of sorrow, his usual composure shattered by the enormity of their grief.

His shoulders, once squared with determination, now hunched with the weight of his sorrow, exhaustion evident in his demeanor. Every movement seemed labored, as if the simple act of breathing had become a Herculean task.

And yet, even in the depths of his despair, there was a flicker of something else within him – a fierce determination to honor the memories of those they had lost, to carry on in their absence with the same strength and resilience they had shown in life. It was a silent promise, whispered in the darkness of his own anguish, to never forget the sacrifices they had made, to never let their memories fade into the void.

And so, with tears streaming down his cheeks and his heart heavy with grief, Darry stood as a testament to the power of love in the face of loss. For even in his darkest hour, he knew that their bond was unbreakable, their love eternal. And it was that love that unwavering devotion to each other, that would carry them through even the darkest of nights.

Soda, typically the heart and soul of any gathering, sat in somber silence, his usually lively demeanor overshadowed by the weight of his own sorrow. His hands shook as he reached for a cigarette, the ember casting a faint glow in the dimly lit room. The smoke curled around him like a ghostly veil, a silent testament to the heaviness that hung in the air.

Despite his efforts to appear composed, the cracks in Soda's facade were evident to those who knew him best. His eyes, usually bright with mischief, now held a haunted look, a reflection of the pain that gnawed at his soul. With each drag of his cigarette, he sought solace in the fleeting distraction it provided, a brief respite from the relentless ache of loss.

And yet, even in his scariest of moments, there was a quiet strength in Soda's resolve, a determination to honor the memory of his fallen friends. Though his spirit may be dimmed by grief, his loyalty to those he loved burned brighter than ever, a guiding light in the darkness that surrounded them all.

As you sat by Ponyboy's bedside, tending to his fever, your heart felt heavy with the weight of multiple burdens. The physical task of cooling his fevered brow and offering him sips of water seemed almost insignificant compared to the mental load you carried.

Your exhaustion was palpable, each movement weighed down by the weight of their sorrow. Your own grief mingled with theirs in a tangled web of pain and loss, making it difficult to distinguish where one ended and the other began. But still, you soldiered on, driven by a fierce determination to offer whatever comfort and solace you could to those you loved.

In the early hours of the morning, as the world slept on, you remained vigilant by Ponyboy's side, your weariness evident in every weary breath. The events of the past few days weighed heavily on your mind, the memories of Dally and Johnny's deaths like a knife twisting in your heart. The loss felt so raw, so overwhelming, that it threatened to take you entirely.

As the first light of dawn filtered through the window, illuminating the room with a gentle glow, Darry's tired eyes fell upon you, still faithfully tending to Ponyboy's needs. It was then, a wave of gratitude washed over him, mingling with the sorrow that still clung to his heart.

Watching you, exhausted yet steadfast in your care for his brother, Darry felt a profound sense of admiration and appreciation wash over him. Your dedication, your selflessness, spoke volumes about the depth of your love not just for Ponyboy, but for all of them.

In the soft light of dawn, as the lines of weariness formed into your features softened with a faint smile, Darry knew with a certainty that resonated deep within his soul - you were his rock, his anchor in the storm. Your unwavering presence, your boundless capacity for love and compassion, had seen them through the darkest of nights.

And as he watched you, a silent vow formed in his heart - to cherish you, to protect you, to love you with every fiber of his being. For in that moment, as the first light of dawn cast its gentle glow upon the room, Darry knew without a shadow of a doubt that you were his, now and forever. Together, you would face whatever challenges lay ahead, united in your grief and your love for each other, a bright light amidst the sorrow that surrounded them.

Three

Months had passed since that tumultuous night, yet the memory of your unwavering support continued to linger in Darry's mind. The morning sunlight spilled through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the room as you bustled about, preparing lunches for Darry and Soda. Darry leaned against the doorway, his heart swelling with affection as he watched you move with effortless grace, a vision of domesticity and love.

As he observed you, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the happiness you brought into his life each and every day. "Morning, darlin'," he greeted, his voice soft with affection.

You turned to face him, returning his smile with one of your own. "Morning, Darry," you replied, your eyes twinkling with warmth.

Just then, Soda bounded into the kitchen, his energy infectious as he ruffled Darry's hair in passing. "Morning, you two lovebirds!" he teased, flashing a grin before helping himself to a slice of toast.

Darry chuckled softly, his eyes alight with affection as he watched Soda's playful antics. "Morning, Soda," he greeted, his voice warm with brotherly fondness.

Soda winked mischievously at Darry before turning his attention to you, his grin widening as he took in the sight of you bustling around the kitchen. "Y/N, you're a lifesaver," he declared, grabbing another slice of toast from the counter. "I don't know what we'd do without you."

You laughed softly, the sound like music to Darry's ears as he felt a swell of pride for the woman he loved. "Just doing my part," you replied with a playful wink, your eyes meeting Darry's briefly before returning to your task.

As you continued to work, Darry couldn't tear his gaze away from you. With each small gesture, each tender smile, his love for you swelled within his chest, threatening to burst free. It was moments like these, the simple, everyday interactions shared between the three of you, that filled Darry with a profound sense of gratitude and contentment.

Surrounded by the warmth and love of his family, Darry knew with a certainty that resonated deep within his soul – he wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side, cherishing every moment, every laugh, and every small gesture of love that you shared. And as he watched you move about the kitchen, his heart overflowed with love and adoration for the incredible woman who had stolen his heart.

And then, as if on cue, Ponyboy entered the kitchen, a furrow of concentration marring his brow as he pored over a math problem in his textbook. Sensing his frustration, you approached him, offering a reassuring smile. "Need a hand, Pony?" you asked, your voice gentle and encouraging.

Ponyboy looked up, relief flooding his features as he nodded. "Yeah, I just can't seem to figure this one out," he admitted sheepishly.

You leaned in closer, studying the problem with a furrowed brow of your own. "Ah, I see where you're getting tripped up. Let me show you a trick that might help," you offered, your voice a soothing melody in the quiet of the morning.

As you patiently explained the concept to Ponyboy, Darry felt that surge of pride and adoration. The way you broke down the problem into manageable steps, your voice soft and reassuring, spoke volumes about your patience and compassion. In that simple act of offering your help and guidance, Darry saw the depth of your kindness and the strength of your character. It wasn't just about helping Ponyboy with his math; it was about the genuine care and concern you showed for him, for all of them. As he watched you with a sense of awe, he knew deep within his soul that he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life by your side, cherishing every moment, and building a future together filled with love and laughter.

As Soda finished his toast, grabbed his lunch, and prepared to head out the door, he leaned in close to Darry, his voice barely above a whisper amidst the morning bustle of the kitchen. "You know, big brother," he said, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes, "we couldn't do it without her. You gotta marry her."

Darry blinked, momentarily taken aback by Soda's sudden seriousness. He met his brother's gaze, seeing the sincerity in his eyes mirrored by the weight of his words. For a moment, the playful banter faded, replaced by a shared understanding of just how much you meant to them all.

A swell of emotion rose within Darry, a mixture of gratitude, love, and a hint of apprehension at the thought of such a monumental step. But as he glanced back at you, effortlessly moving about the kitchen with a grace that never failed to astound him, he knew with a certainty that settled deep within his soul – Soda was right.

With a silent nod of acknowledgment to his brother, Darry watched as Soda headed out the door, his words lingering in the air like a gentle breeze. And as he turned back to you, a newfound sense of purpose filled his heart, a determination to show you just how much you meant to him, not just in words, but in deeds.

Amidst the chaos of their everyday lives, Darry knew that there was no one else he would rather spend the rest of his days with than you. And as he caught your eye, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips, he silently made a promise to himself – to cherish you, to protect you, and to love you with every fiber of his being, now and forever.

After Ponyboy left the kitchen to get ready for school, the room fell into a comfortable silence, leaving just the two of you alone. Darry's arms enveloped you, pulling you close in a tender embrace that spoke volumes of his love.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," Darry murmured, his voice soft with emotion as he pressed his forehead against yours.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. "You'd manage just fine," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm glad I can be here for you, for all of you."

Darry's gaze softened, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings. "You're more than just my girlfriend, Y/N," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle caress. "You're my everything."

Tears welled in your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words. "And you're mine," you breathed, sealing your love with a soft kiss that spoke volumes of the bond you shared.

As you stood entwined in each other's arms, you knew that no matter what trials life threw your way, you would face them together, united in a love that knew no bounds. And as Darry pressed another tender kiss to your forehead, you silently vowed to cherish each moment with him for eternity, grateful beyond measure for the love that filled your heart.

The Proposal

As the evening sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, a sense of anticipation filled the Curtis household. Tonight, was no ordinary night – tonight, Darry had something special planned, and he had enlisted the help of Ponyboy, Soda, Two-Bit, and Steve to make it truly unforgettable.

Ponyboy, with his earnest enthusiasm, had insisted that you wear something special for the occasion. He had spent the afternoon rummaging through his meager wardrobe, determined to find the perfect accessory to complement your beauty. Finally, he emerged triumphantly with a delicate silver necklace that was his mothers, a small pendant shaped like a sun dangling from the chain. "I thought it would bring you luck," he said with a shy smile, his cheeks flushed with excitement.

Soda, ever the romantic, had taken it upon himself to choose the perfect spot for the proposal. He had spent hours scouting locations around town, searching for a place that was as beautiful and special as you deserved. Finally, he settled on a secluded spot by the river, where the water sparkled in the moonlight and the stars danced overhead. "Trust me, this is the perfect spot," he assured Darry with a grin, knowing that it would be a moment you would never forget.

Two-Bit and Steve, always up for a bit of mischief, had taken on the task of setting the scene. They had decorated the proposal spot with lights and candles, creating a magical ambiance that would set the stage for Darry's declaration of love. Two-Bit leaned in close to Darry, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he surveyed their handiwork. "We wanted to make it extra special for you," he explained with a grin, his voice laced with excitement. "You know, to really sweep her off her feet." He nudged Darry playfully, knowing that their efforts would add an extra touch of romance to the evening, making it a moment that neither Darry nor you would ever forget.

As the clock struck seven, Darry took your hand in his, a nervous yet determined smile playing on his lips. Together, you began to walk, the soft glow of the evening sun casting long shadows on the pavement as you made your way towards the proposal spot not too far away.

With each step, Darry's mind drifted back to the memories you had shared together, the moments that had brought you to this point. He pointed out landmarks along the way, each one holding a special significance in your relationship.

"Do you remember the first time we walked this path together?" Darry asked softly, his voice filled with warmth as he squeezed your hand gently. "It feels like a lifetime ago, doesn't it?"

You smiled, the memories flooding back as you walked hand in hand with him. "I remember," you replied, your voice tinged with nostalgia. "It's where we shared our first kiss."

"Those were some of the best moments of my life," you continued, your voice soft and filled with nostalgia. "Just being with you, sharing our dreams under the stars... it's something I'll always cherish."

As you walked hand in hand, each step carrying you closer to the proposal spot where your future awaited, you couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude for the man beside you. In his simple gestures and heartfelt words, you found a love that was pure and unwavering, a love that filled your heart with joy and anticipation for the journey ahead. And as the echoes of your laughter mingled with the evening breeze, you knew that this moment would be etched in your memories forever, a testament to the love that had brought you to this beautiful place.

As you reached the river, the soft glow of lights and the flickering of candles cast a romantic ambiance over the scene. Darry's heart pounded with nervous excitement; his palms slightly clammy as he took in the sight before him. With each step, the weight of the ring box in his pocket seemed to grow heavier, but the love and determination in his heart only strengthened.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Darry turned to you, his eyes alight with affection and anticipation. The gentle glow of the lights seemed to dance in his gaze as he reached for your hand, his touch sending a shiver of excitement down your spine.

"Y/N," he began, his voice filled with emotion, "from the moment I met you, you've brought so much light into my life. You've been my rock, my confidante, my everything." His words were like music to your ears, each syllable filled with the depth of his love for you.

Tears of joy welled in your eyes as you listened to his heartfelt confession, your heart swelling with love for the man standing before you. The love and support radiating from him and the familiar faces of Ponyboy, Soda, Two-Bit, and Steve filled you with a sense of warmth and comfort, making this moment even more special.

"And now," Darry continued, his voice trembling slightly as he dropped to one knee, presenting the ring box with a flourish, "I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you've made me." His eyes never wavered from yours, his gaze unwavering in its sincerity. "Y/N, will you marry me?"

Your breath caught in your throat as you gazed into his eyes, feeling as if the world had stopped spinning just for this moment. The weight of his words hung in the air, charged with emotion and anticipation, as you searched for the right words to express the overwhelming love and happiness that filled your heart.

With a trembling voice and tears of joy streaming down your cheeks, you nodded emphatically, unable to find the words to convey the depth of your love for him. "Yes, Darry," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper, "a thousand times yes. In every single lifetime it’s a yes."

A radiant smile broke across Darry's face as he slipped the ring onto your finger, sealing your love with a tender kiss. Cheers and applause erupted from your friends, the sounds of their excitement mingling with the beating of your hearts as you embraced, knowing that this moment would be etched in your memories forever as the beginning of your journey together as husband and wife.

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[hidefdoritos]

How do you decide what to do to fix clothing that needs mending(like what type of mend a tear or hole needs)? And when is something too far gone to fix?

Hey, thanks for asking great questions!

So the two main ways of repairing holes are (1) covering them with more thread or (2) patching. Generally, "more thread" is good for little holes that aren't very worn out, and "patching" is good for big holes and lots of wear! Plus there's a third type I call "preventative mending": fixing things before they have the chance to wear out.

Descriptions of how the mends look and how they were done are in the alt texts.

Examples of "more thread" mends:

A tiny hole on sturdy fabric. Needs more thread!

Some end results. The first one is just back and forth mending. The second mend was larger, so I wove over it. Personally, this is the largest darning I like to do. (It's easier for me to make a patch than to essentially weave my own fabric over a big hole.)

Examples of "patching" mends:

These jeans recently wore through. (I intended to do my DIY ripstop on the thighs, but life kept happening.) The hole is maybe the size of a quarter, but the fabric all around it is also very weak and worn. The line marks where the fabric is strong enough to hold a patch.

Here's the inside and outside of some jeans I've been working on for a few years. I started by actually doing the DIY ripstop. When that was really disintegrating, I put patches on the inside. As the outside disintegrates more, I'll use my machine to do "more thread" mends. That'll anchor the mend to the patch and keep the patch from showing through to the outside world.

Example of a "preventative mend"

I've had these jeans for a couple years. Pockets and belt loops tear often, and I don't like showing my boxers to the world. So, before the threads can tear apart all the way, I'm putting a second layer behind them to spread out the strain and create a little extra protection.

When is something too far gone to fix?

Part of me wants to answer "never," but that's not the case.

Once upon a time, I went to a barn sale, and I found the old owner's favorite pair of jeans. "Tattered" doesn't begin to describe them. Every pocket was tearing away, all the belt loops were popped, the knees were gone, the cuffs were just threads, and every inch of them looked well-worn and well-loved. Repairs, at this point, would take a week.

It's too far gone when the effort required is more than you're able to give.

I got them for something like a quarter, brought them home to wash, and they became my first pieces of patch denim. The back pockets became cargo pockets on some other pants. The zipper got salvaged. Almost all the scrap denim you see in this post is from them.

If the repair is so intensive that the clothing is better as rags/scrap, then it's too far gone.

[Or if it's a holey sock. I hate darning with all my heart. I'd rather chew sandpaper than walk on darned socks. I just hack them up for stuffing.]