#literally you sent this ask just as i was about to have Bloody do it

[lookwhatyoudidithasanxiety]

Hhmm..

*raises one front leg up and tries to run, only to faceplant.*

…

Oof

Bloody: Brother! Like this! *lifts his arm and tries to run, falling onto his face.

Harvest: Brother? *hurries over*

Bloody: ...Doing better than me. Hard!

Harvest: *huffs affectionately* You don't have to try it, it's for me to do.

Bloody: Want to help! *tries again and flops onto his face*

[qqueenofhades]

Is it foolish of me to sympathize with how marginalized people on the far-left are incredibly frustrated that the Democratic establishment isn't as scared of/desperate to please them as the Republican establishment are toward the MAGA fringe? I guess from their perspective, voting feels like begging - most of the people who hear you won't even glance at you, let alone drop you a coin. But you still have to do it, or else you (or worse, your family) are *guaranteed* to starve.

Okay, a few thoughts here. Note: for you and the other people who have recently sent politics asks, I have been very deliberately NOT talking about it for the last few months. I had to break it yesterday because of the Orange Menace finally getting fucking convicted, but I do want to go back to not doing that (at least for the next few weeks/months/until whatever else stupid happens). So while I will answer this, I am generally not going to answer others and my apologies for that, but yeah. It's just so much and I have GOT to keep myself sane until November somehow. (Or God forbid, afterward, but you know.)

First off, most members of the American far left aren't actually marginalized people, or at least not marginalized enough that their personal well-being seems in any way likely to be affected by their loud and ceaseless campaign to tell other people not to vote. Actual marginalized people who have lived in America for any length of time are *well* aware of how the government and the state can be weaponized against them; witness how black community organizers will voice well-deserved criticisms of the Democratic establishment or other aspects of American party politics that are frustrating for everyone, but they will still always tell people to vote. Black people are also extremely aware that earning the right to vote was an incredibly long, difficult, and bloody battle that they were never given it for free, and the white power establishment fought them having it at every turn. They are thus far more aware than your average white online leftist that voting matters, because they had to work so hard to get it (and still to defend it as various red states launch openly racist assaults on voting rights, especially aimed at disenfranchising people of color). Witness how Bernie also got literally zero traction with African American voters, despite being the darling of the (white) online left.

Hispanic people are also (rightfully) frustrated at how both American parties can use Latino immigrants as a political football, but they're still backing Biden by 30-point margins. We hear a lot of chatter about Trump supposedly gaining ground with voters of color -- maybe he has, though I doubt it, but that's still incremental gains from the massive holes he was in before, and where he generally remains. Arab Americans are (rightfully) angry with Biden over Gaza, but even in the much-hyped Michigan primary, he got roughly the same amount of "uncommitted" voters as Obama did as an uncontested incumbent in 2012, and most of them have said they'll grit their teeth and vote for him in the general election anyway. Yes, a few of them have decided not to, but they are not the size of the Black and Latino populations in America insofar as electoral power, and many of them have grudgingly decided that as bad as Biden might be on this particular issue (though far less so than the social media groupthink would paint him) the alternative (i.e. Trump openly promising to deport everybody who's not white and crack down on pro-Palestinian protests and anything else) is much, much worse.

And yet, white leftists seem utterly incapable of making these same calculations. Frankly, I'm not sure they actually care about Gaza, let alone anything else they say, because if so, they wouldn't be slavering at the mouth to let Trump back in there to "teach a lesson" to Biden, Democrats, and everyone else who was not Smart And Clever Enough to sanctimoniously sit on their hands and let the fascists take over. I know this because they spent all their time lying about Biden and distorting his record and insisting people not vote even before October of last year, and then it only got ten thousand times worse. I'm not saying that all leftist or leftist-identified people are white, but they are disproportionately predominant in leftist spaces and in pushing the idea that there's "no difference" between the parties and somehow Trump and Biden are morally equivalent or will have the same amount of impact on what will happen after one of them is elected. That is, yes, because they are white and they have the privilege of assuming that a weaponized fascist government will not go after them for that reason (even though Trump and his surrogates are now claiming that "everyone" who opposes Trump has to be "dealt with.") As such, when you say that marginalized far-left people are frustrated with the Democrats, I'm... not entirely sure that's true. Marginalized people AND the far left are both frustrated with the Democrats, but one of those groups has generally still decided not to voluntarily disenfranchise themselves, and the other is pumping out Vladimir Putin-wet-dream anti-voting propaganda at every chance they get.

There is also the fact that America is not a left-wing country in any sense of the word, and that while it's easy for the MAGA Republicans to go ever further far-right and promise to be even more outrageously cruel and stupid and fascist than ever before, but that's not an actual policy or a plan. It is also a strategy of diminishing returns; witness the fact that for all the cruelty and stupidity Republicans have pumped into the public arena since 2016, they haven't actually been that good at winning elections, and most of their major successes have come from Trump winning in 2016 and thus being able to stack SCOTUS and the district and circuit courts with hand-picked right-wing nut jobs, who are functioning exactly as they were designed to do. (Which Hillary Clinton warned about, along with everyone else, and yet she was taken out by the exact same dirtbag leftist disinformation moral purity machine that is working overtime to handicap Biden for the exact same reasons.) Mainstream Democrats warned about this before the 2016 election and were scorned and laughed off. Indeed, the entire Online Left continues to resolutely deny that the extremist SCOTUS is responsible for anything (It's Biden's Fault) and thus are likewise identical to Trumpies. And since they also want Trump to get back in there and teach a lesson to the Democrats, they're just as anti-democratic, dangerous, stupid, and deliberately short-sighted as actual MAGATs, and can by no means be considered allies to the singular movement of keeping fascists out of power. That is our only present goal.

If Democrats bent over to everything the far left asks for (which is often a combination of tankie gobbledygook, various vague ideas about Communism utopia where capitalism magically vanishes with no consequences, half-baked revolution cosplays, and other stuff that is functionally equivalent to the wildest lunacies of MAGA) they would never win an election again, and that would be exactly what the fascists want. Witness how they struggled when they were branded "defunders of the police" and "socialists" and other effective responses to the mildest milquetoast efforts for reform or accountability. And the political climate right now is just far too dangerous to throw everything to the wind and prance out some pipe-dream perfect-utopia plan. I'm sure you've heard about Project 2025 and how the far-right Heritage Foundation is planning to systematically implement fascism at all levels of the country, the instant they have a compliant Republican president and congress. I would take all these people crying about Biden even a fraction more seriously if they weren't openly jonesing for something that is so unbelievably, incredibly worse.

For example: I currently have major beefs with literally the entire foreign policy of the Biden administration right now. I think they're being too hard on Ukraine (forbidding them to strike targets on Russian soil with American weapons, which would end the war faster) and, despite some promising signs and open displeasure, still far too easy on Israel. They looked foolish after insisting that Rafah was a red line and then essentially making up an excuse that what's going on now is not a "major operation." Secretary of State Blinken floating the idea of helping Congress censure or neuter the International Criminal Court arrest warrants issued for Netanyahu and co. was also one of the fucking stupidest things I've heard from a serious (i.e. non-Trumpist) American diplomat in a long time. So we respect the ICC when it issues warrants for tyrants we don't like (Putin), but when it issues one for tyrants we still do, apparently (Netanyahu), then bingo, it's back to the bad old habit of ignoring international law like we're special and it doesn't apply to us, and allows all the other bad actors around the world to do the same by pointing at America and correctly pointing out that we ignore it when it doesn't suit our purposes. I think this is wrong and I don't agree. So? What am I going to do?

Well, you see. I'm going to vote for Biden and I am going to give him money and I am going to remind everyone I know that they have no moral option but to do the same. I do this because I am aware that despite my disagreements, Biden is acting from a cautious anti-interventionist standpoint and does not want to throw American military might around recklessly or dangerously like good ol' George Dubya or Trump or even Obama and the drones. He is listening to sober mainstream advisors who have (however incorrect and useless) ideas about "avoiding escalation" and trying to bring conflict to a managed end. He is doing this with a realistic appraisal of the power of the office of American presidency and he's not going to capriciously end democracy and become a full-blown fascist dictator on day one, as Trump has openly and repeatedly promised to do. Yes, if there was a viable option apart from Biden, maybe I would think about voting for them, but there is not, and literally everyone who does not actively vote for him is helping Trump. I do not care about any other contrived and disingenuous online squealing. I know that Biden does not want the war in Gaza to go on for no reason and for maximum carnage; Netanyahu and Trump both do. That is just to name one thing.

So: yes. I absolutely understand being frustrated with the Democrats and wishing they would push harder and etc. But I am also aware that they can be pushed, that they are the only option right now, and the people who huff and puff and whine and groan about how it's such a moral imposition to vote for them are literally doing the fascists' work for them, and that is not acceptable. If they want a better system or a better world that isn't just useless internet fantasies about magical end-of-days Raptures fixing everything, also a la the crazy fundamentalists, they will have to get off their ass, do the work, and create that change. I will be happy to vote for that candidate when or if they arrive. In the meantime, I will continue to do my damndest to ensure that we even have a chance to get there. So yeah.

[2btheanswertothequestion]

(part 2 of November Paramedic; part 1 is here.)

Steve's honey-sweet eyes, gleaming with confidence, ask 'why don't you take a bite?'

His pink mouth, deliciously curved, wonders 'don't you want a taste?'

His dark chest hair, leading a mouthwatering path down his pants, says 'you know you want to'.

And Eddie does. He really does. He would, if Steve was actually here. Alas, all Eddie has is the calendar photo currently staring at him from where it's propped on Eddie's dresser, and he's not biting into it. It's the only one he's got, you see; he won't be ruining it with bite marks and drool due to his intrusive thoughts.

If he had a copy machine close at hand, though? If he could make as many pictures as he'd possibly want? Oho, watch out, Slobbertown!

It's been one week since Steve the sexy paramedic revealed himself to be a real person and not just a dude in a softcore porn calendar. One week since he Florence Nightingale'd Eddie before vanishing in a flurry of bloody gauze and blinking blue lights, leaving both Eddie and Gareth breathless.

(Though in Gareth's case, it was due to laughing so hard he choked on himself.)

The calendar doesn't do it for him anymore. Don't misunderstand – he still uses it when beating the meat. In fact, it has exclusively become his primary masturbatory aid, and it has served him especially well the past few days. The moment those 48 hours were over and Gareth left, Eddie chucked off his sweatpants and went to, well, Slobbertown. But it's not the same anymore. How could it be, when he knows the real Steve's hair smells like a meadow and his aftershave like lemon and spice? When he's felt the pressure of Steve's fingertips on his jaw? When he's seen the faint scar running down Steve's chin from his mouth? When he can still hear Steve's voice use his name, give him orders, call him 'sir'?

It's impossible. Fuck, just whenever Eddie closes his eyes Steve's face appears, as vividly as if it happened yesterday. Of course, that might have something to do with Eddie already having made himself oh so familiar with Steve's face, and chest, and hands, and… everything else, for the past two years. Jesus damn it, if he knew this was where he'd end up he never would've bought the calendar in the first place.

Groaning, he throws himself back on his bed; then he shouts as his head thumps into the wall. Typical. He rubs at the spot to soothe it. No bump, though it hurts like a bitch. Pain (and suspicion he just aggravated the previous head injury) aside, he's comfortable, thus he sprawls out and stares at the ceiling as planned.

He's been distracted. He knows that because literally everyone has been on his case about it. Gareth gives him smug smiles that have turned alarmingly calculated as the week has passed. Jeff and Marv, having been filled in by Gareth, are rather more amused in a benign way. His boss almost sent him home to recuperate after catching him staring into space for the third time. Uncle Wayne noticed something was off through the phone. And Max has been giving him weird looks.

Ah, little Max. The only person in the complex who doesn't steer clear of him. She doesn't actually know what went down – not completely. She knows he got injured, because she caught him and Gareth as they stumbled home while she was exiting her apartment to toss the trash. Her sharp eyes zeroed in on the plaster, and on Eddie's arm that was slung over Gareth's shoulders for support (at Gareth's insistence).

"You got in a fight?" she asked.

With a grin he'd exclaimed, "Battle? You know me better than that! Nay, I did my utmost to escape the violence... but the ruffian got to me regardless."

"Huh. You okay?"

Gareth had rolled his eyes. "He's fine. I mean, listen to him."

"Don't worry about me, Red." Eddie tapped his own head. "This ol' noggin is harder than it looks."

A corner of her mouth twisted up, though if it was in amusement he couldn't tell in the dim hallway. They ought to team up against the super; maybe their combined whining will have him finally fix that broken light bulb.

"Make sure you don't take aspirin or ibuprofen," she said. "It can-"

"Yeah, I know. Paramedic already told me."

"Good. Is our lesson still on?"

"Certainly, m'dear."

And then he'd tipped an imaginary hat, she snorted, and Gareth hauled his ass to bed.

He didn't see Max again until Sunday afternoon, when she came by for their aforementioned weekly guitar lesson. Parking themselves on each end of the couch, his acoustic in her lap, he'd made her play the 'homework' from the previous Sunday. It sounded pretty good. She honestly won't need his help soon – probably doesn't need it now. She understands basic theory and is diligent about practicing. He'd be fine with awarding her temporary custody of the guitar for a while. She insists on coming over, however, claiming she has to be perfect by the time of the next open mic down at Connie's Corner Coffee.

The reason she has to be perfect? Well. Eddie is pretty sure it's to impress her boy. She hasn't confirmed that it's for her boy, or even that she has one, but it totally is and she totally does. He knows this because 1. she becomes flustered and grumpy (grustered? Flumpy?) every time he brings it up, and 2. if she was learning to play for herself he'd be subjected to a lot more Pink Floyd and a lot less Curtis Mayfield.

It's cute, to be honest. Picking up an instrument for a boy you like? That's romantic as fuck. If he hadn't been the Lord of All Losers he would've serenaded tons of boys when he was younger. Hell, he'd do it now, if only there were anyone willing to listen. But he hasn't had as much as a date in ages, and none of his previous attempts at relationships ever reached the 'romantic gestures' stage.

Maybe he should ask Max to set him up with someone. Why not? She probably meets dozens of people every day, at the campus, at the skatepark, wherever else she hangs. If there's anyone who could sort out his disastrous love life, it's Max Mayfield. She's so put together, and she's not even 20 yet. She's got her own place (in a supremely shitty building, but still a place), she's got a man (reluctant as she is to admit it), and she is halfway through her math degree. A fucking math degree, for Christ's sake! Math majors are built for solving problems!

Maybe she could even calculate how many times he'd need to injure himself before he'd meet the one paramedic he wanted to kiss… him better.

It was around that point of his daydreaming that Max shot a hair tie at his forehead and demanded he stop zoning out and correct her hand placement.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing deeper than usual. "Have you been resting?"

"Yes. For the prescribed 48 hours, and then some. I'm fine."

She'd frowned, scrutinizing him with those pale blue eyes. He squared his shoulders and met her gaze like a man. Easier said than done, to be truthful. He likes Max – she's fun, easily the most kickass neighbor he's ever had – but she can be intense. And when she gets her stare on? She's downright creepy.

"I'd prefer to cancel over you fucking up your head more," she at last said, posture stiff and chin jutting. 'Don't lie to me,' is what she meant.

Eddie sighed. "Red… I'm fine. Seriously."

And he was. Physically speaking, at least. Mentally, he'd always been a little off. Part of the patented Munson charm, really.

She must've realized that, because she relaxed, her expression going from 'active bitch face' and back to 'resting'.

"All right. Sorry for being overbearing. It's just." She shrugged a shoulder, gripping the neck of the guitar as it started sliding off her crossed legs. "One of my closest friends is a medical professional. Another one is studying biology. They've been discussing human anatomy and… I guess they've gotten into my head."

Damn his friends for caring. How was he supposed to sell this image of a dark, dangerous, rocker dude if he was constantly misty-eyed from how sweet his buds were to him? He leaned forward to pat her knee.

"I appreciate the concern, unnecessary as it is. But!" He drew himself back and pointed in the air. "We're not postponing! Open mic is less than a month away – you only have so many days left before you'll be on that stage, in front of aaaaall those people… and your beau."

He's certain that if she hadn't still been sorta concerned about his health, she'd have smacked him.

That was Sunday afternoon. Now is Wednesday evening. He is still hung up on Thursday. He doesn't even know why. Yes, he was face-to-face with the hottest guy ever. Sure, that same guy has been the star of his most critically acclaimed fantasies. Indeed, he hasn't gotten laid in eons. Of course, he's pent-up with sexual frustration and yearning for another man's touch.

But still. He's not an animal or a sex-crazed teenager. He's smart enough to know that nothing good will come of this. It's not like he'll ever see Steve again. That'd be so unrealistic.

A knock on his front door reaches his ears. Eddie makes no effort to get up and answer it. He's not expecting anyone – whoever it is will have to return another day.

The knocking turns into a pounding, followed by yelling.

"Eddie! Let me in, asshole, I know you're there!"

Ugh. What does he want? Hasn't he heard of texting?

Eddie drags himself off the bed and toward the door. Yanking it open, he's met by Gareth's self-satisfied visage.

"Good evening," he says, heedless of Eddie’s glare. "I come hither with your solution."

"My solution?" Eddie mutters as he stalks to his couch to crumple into another heap.

Gareth follows him inside. "I have a plan to get your man!"

"What? Who? What?"

"Steve. November-paramedic," Gareth says, like it's obvious, which, what the actual fuck?

"He's not my man?"

"But he could be."

"Gareth, what the fuck-"

He moves to sit up, but Gareth's palm hits him square in the diaphragm and pushes him back down.

"No, listen: you are a terrible patient."

"I'm not-"

"Remember back in high school, when that asshole rear-ended us in the intersection at Hickory and 5th?"

Eddie grimaces. How could he forget? They'd stopped at a red light when a drunken motherfucker plowed into them, sending them careening into the T-junction. One car managed to break before hitting them; another veered only to crash into a fourth car. The result was, for them, whiplash injuries and, for the people who collided, bruises, sprains, and a dislocated joint. It had been the scariest moment of Eddie's life, and the neck pain had been excruciating. That wasted piece of shit was lucky no one died.

He says, "Yeah?"

"You were so snarky with that poor EMT."

"Okay, first off, I was a snot-nosed brat back then-"

"Dude, you were nineteen."

"-and she was rude to me first."

"She was following protocol!" Gareth shakes his head. "The point is that you never follow orders or instructions, not even when a doctor tells you to. But November-Steve? I've never seen you be so pliable."

"I-"

"And after, when I had to babysit you for two fucking days? I expected it to be difficult. But you were so busy sighing and yearning-" he says, ignoring Eddie's indignant sputtering, "-and replaying him tenderly caressing your face with his big, manly hands and holding your gaze with those big, manly eyes-"

"Do you want to fuck him?"

"-that you forgot to complain or be a contrarian about everything." Gareth smiles, sweet as cavities. "It was great. I'd like to recapture that. And if November-Steve is the one to bring it out of you, well!"

Eddie glowers at him. No, really! With the metaphorical thunder clouds swirling over his head and everything! His world has been shook. It is tilted off its axis, and it's his best friend's duty to mock him relentlessly for it. But this? Trying to encourage him? Give him hope? That's going too far.

Gareth notices. Of course he does; curse the heart on Eddie's sleeve. The sickly-sugary smugness evaporates off him, and he takes a seat on the dingy couch seat.

"Eddie," he says with a softness reserved for a select few individuals. "Seriously. You've been all moon-eyed for a week. You've been thinking about him. Really thinking."

Eddie balloons his cheeks and huffs out the air. "Well. If you spend two years jerking it to a guy-"

"Gross."

"-and then he suddenly appears before you, in the flesh? I've been fantasizing about it. He's a fantasy. And when it actually happens, that's…"

He trails off. Gareth knocks their shoulders together.

"He seemed nice."

Eddie scoffs. "I spoke to him for fifteen minutes. Tops."

"Fifteen nice minutes. You haven't dated in ages. Maybe this is a sign?"

Chuckling, Eddie slumps his head onto Gareth's shoulder. They're the wrong heights for it, so it's awkward and strenuous on the neck. He remains.

"You're just looking for another opportunity to embarrass me," he says.

"Embarrass you and improve your life. Like only true friends strive to do."

Eddie hums. "So what's your fucking plan?"

Gareth shifts, turning toward Eddie, but doesn't say anything yet. Glancing up, Eddie is met by a zoomed-in, upside-down view of Gareth's pointy grin, his canines gleaming.

"The university!"

------------------------------

Taglist: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround , @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid

No longer adding to the tag list, due to numbers and (hopefully temporary) technical difficulties. Please save or memorize the tag #steddie fic: november paramedic instead; all the parts will be there (unless something goes terribly wrong).

Thank you for reading! 🖤 ☺

Part 3

[anthonys237thfreckle]

erm hey pookie, I have the memory of a goldfish and I can’t remember if I sent the request I wanted to or not so I’m so terribly sorry if I have but I’ve read literally everything in your account today and I’m in love BUT could you maybe possibly do either super fluffy with Javi like at home comforting him after a storm, cooking him a good meal, relaxing and unwinding in like a warm bath, helping take care of him

(and maybe a lil smoochy smooch and grabby hands ending but that’s totally up to you)

hey pookie! here’s your rec! i was thinking of doing this a while ago lol. but thanks for the req!! i love it sm!!

wait this is actually kinda bad guys beware

Twister-Love and Care - Javier ‘Javi’ x F! reader

‘with a storm in my mind, you would understand why

they all name hurricanes after us’

A Potion For Love by AURORA

—

prompt: today’s storm really took it out of Javi, but his girlfriend helps him relax

TW: mentions of storms, thunder, swearing, nightmares, some angst but its a fluff piece!!

The soft pitter-patter of the rain was a relaxing backdrop, contrasting the EF3 storm you two just chased. Javi parked the car in the driveway, ushering you to get inside so you wouldn’t get wet. That was the first thing he said since the chase was over, his eyes trained on the dirt road, darkening with each drop of water. His hands, both of them, gripped the steering wheel when he was driving home, not the usual one-hand-on-the-thigh thing he did, which you could never get enough of.

You flipped the switch to your warm-tinted lights, illuminating the once dark house. Everything looked warm and inviting - you made a rule for ‘no big lights’ in the house - especially if they were cool toned, and Javi thought it was ridiculous at first, but now he can’t imagine their home any different. You kicked off your shoes, hearing Javi do the same behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you saw his eyes out the window, the rain growing harder.

“What’s on that pretty, disgustingly educated mind of yours?” you chuckled, cupping his face and turning it to face yours.

“Scott’s the disgustingly educated one” Javi chuckled softly, a small smile forming on his face, his concerns momentarily washed away when he saw his girlfriend’s smiling face. “ ‘s just..” his face darkened again, a storm behind his eyes, a shuddering sigh escaped his lips.

“We- that storm. It felt really real. Too real, and-” he hesitated “I just, it’s a lot, I don’t really wanna talk about it”

You nodded, caressing his freckled cheek, his skin glowing in the low, warm light. You can’t imagine how hard it must have been for him, in the dark, not knowing anything about everyone’s conditions. It was only when you and Kate emerged, battered and bloodied from the raging storm, that he knew who lived and who left…

“You don’t have to, baby..” you said softly, your hands snaking to his shoulders, squeezing them softly. Javi leaned his body against yours, closing his eyes. “You’re really tense..” you remarked, kneading his knots in his toned muscles; Javi groaned.

“How about we take the night easy…” you whispered, rubbing his arms. He nodded, wrapping his strong arms around her waist, leaning on him. You laughed, bringing him to the couch.

“What do you want for dinner?” you asked softly snuggling up under his arm against his chest, your head tucked under his chin. One of your hands found his bicep, squeezing it in a comforting manner.

“Anything, really..” Javi sighed, drawing little stars on the skin of your waist. “Something warm…” He nuzzled your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

You smiled, cupping his cheek.

“Why don’t we make a date night out of this? Like a lazy night in?” She smiled up at him, pecking his cheek. Javi opened his eyes, meeting your own.

“That sounds.. amazing. It’s just what I need right now” He sighed softly, pressing a soft peck to your forehead in return.

Smiling, you got off the couch, leaving Javi whining for your warmth. You giggled, moving to the kitchen to see what they have.

“We have… feta cheese, tomatoes, half a zucchini, coleslaw..” You listed off the food in their kitchen, when she had a revelation “How does pasta sound?” She looked over at Javi, who was still on the couch.

“Like heaven” he said “wait, no, that’s you” he smiled tiredly. Even if he was mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted, he was still a flirt.

You walked over to the couch, pulling him to his feet and dragged him to the kitchen, which was essentially you silently saying ‘cook with me’. He was used to this, but loved it so, so much.

So you both chopped, diced, stirred, kissed in the kitchen - Javi was helping you with the alfredo sauce, you added some spinach for some iron. Pasta was always fun with you, because you never chose the boring, basic shapes. Who needs penne when you have star shaped tortellini? The farmers market was a wild place for artisan pasta shapes.

They boiled their pasta, Javi stirred the sauce, you pressed a kiss to his shoulder, moving in front of him, your body between his and the stove. One of his hands went around your waist, you held the spatula he set aside to wrap his arm around you,and stirred the sauce.

“This is nice..” he murmured into the shell of your ear, nuzzling your neck, pressing soft, chaste kisses to where your collarbone met your neck. You leaned your head back, to the side, giving him better access with a grin.

Once you set the pasta in the oven to bake, Javi picked you up bridal style, earning a squeal-like laugh from you. He brought you up the stairs and set you down on the bathroom counter, and you smiled.

You pecked his freckled button nose, turning on the hot water in the bathtub, and sat back down on the counter, wrapping your legs around his waist. The water running provided a nice ambience.

“You better hop in with me” Javi murmured, causing you to nod and chuckle as his hands rubbed your sides soothingly, tickling a tad bit.

You both just exchanged chaste kisses until the water was ready. Slowly stripping each other, you both got into the water, Javi settling you in his lap again.

It was this non sexual intimacy you both loved- there’s nothing purer than a bare body, and you both understood that. You relaxed against his chest as you straddled him momentarily, before lifting your head off his shoulder and running a hand through his curls. Meeting his eyes, he pulled you closer to him by bringing you nearer by the waist.

You both stared into each other’s eyes for a moment- the water still, only the occasional drop falling from the tap to the tub, causing a tiny splash. The silence was comforting to both of your bruised, yet healing souls.

“I’d be lost without you” Javi murmured, his voice holding a passion. “You’re the light in my storm”

You pulled him in for a soft, gentle yet passionate kiss. One that said everything you needed to.

After sitting in the bath for a good 20 minutes, you both got out, shivering slightly as you two reached for the bathrobes.

After you both got out of the water, changing into some bathrobes temporarily. You briefly did your skincare, lathering some moisturizer onto your boyfriend’s face.

Pulling him to your shared bedroom, he let the bathrobe fall to his lower back as he lay down on his stomach, leaving you to straddle him from behind.

You began kneading his knots out, which earned some quiet, satisfied sighs from Javi.

You smiled softly, seeing him go limp just so he could relax and unwind after a very exhausting day.

Once you were done, you lay down on his back and pressed a kiss to his freckled shoulder.

“Come on, dinner’s ready…”

Going downstairs, you spooned the pasta onto two plates, Javi brought the sweet tea out from the fridge, slicing some lemons and dropping them in the glasses full of the amber liquid. Sitting down, you both clinked your forks and started to eat your nourishing meal, warm food sliding down your throat leaving you two with smiles (and some remnants pasta sauce) on your lips.

Once dinner was done, Javi helped you rinse everything and pop it in the dishwasher, turning it on to let it run until it was done. The completists in you two were satisfied - the kitchen looked spotless.

Changing into some actual clothes, you stealing one of Javi’s shirts, you two settled in bed. The covers were warm, having put them in the dryer for a couple of minutes before to make sure they were comfortably toasty.

“Jesus Christ…” Javi sighed as he got under the covers with you, immediately seeking your body and pulling it closer to his own, strong, defined arms wrapping around your hips and lower back. He pressed a few kisses to your hair and forehead, you doing the same but with his cheeks, and nose.

Your hand ran through his curls, earning a noise of ecstasy from him. He pulled you impossibly closer, causing you to throw a leg over his waist - a casual business.

“Goodnight, (Y/N)” he murmured into your hair.

“Goodnight, Javi” you responded, voice muffled from your head nuzzling his chest “Love you”

“Love you too” he murmured, his voice sounding lazy and sleepy.

And with that, you both were too tired to go onto a conversation like you usually did at night. Instead, you both fell asleep to the soft pitter patter of the rain.

[d3arapril]

modern!abby headcanons

a sfw ver because i can’t get over the fact that abby isn’t real. Goodnight

⭐️ safe for all audiences. my inbox is open! any feedback, ideas or general chat is welcome <3

abby loves loving and she loves to be loved.

she loves her friends, her family and she loves you the most. she even thinks she loves the old, kind man that ran the small bookstore she’d been visiting since she was young

having lots of people around her is super important to her, she has a big heart and even though she looks like a lion she’s really just a little baby house cat that wants to make people happy <3

she’s a bit of a people pleaser sometimes. like she goes our of her way to do things for people even if she really doesn’t want to but she’s working on it 💪🏽

loves being around you but also loves time to herself to work out, read and drool on her pillow during a particularly deep sleep without being mocked by you every morning

ABBY SLEEPS LIKE A LOG. this bitch does not move during her sleep, like you could literally scream bloody murder and she’d barely flinch. she also sleeps on her front sometimes and has her face in the pillow ??? you often wonder if she’s even alive and breathing (she is) (she has little to no trauma and jerry is alive in my world so she doesn’t get nightmares etc. i want the best for her &lt;;3)

i think she’s very particular about looking after herself/keeping clean etc and it’s a super big thing for her. although she’s fairly masc presenting don’t be fooled, shes a lil girly girl deep deep down

her hair is long and healthy because she never uses heat and uses hair masks, she looks after her skin and uses the ordinary products (they work for her ok!), she exfoliates and shaves her legs frequently bc she feels like they look more muscular when they’re smooth and she enjoys feeling like a dolphin

she’s always got her hair in that damn braid and you try convince her to do other styles but she basically refuses

“you don’t like it?” she’s whining, faking it of course - she knows you like it. “no abs i love it, just wish you’d wear your hair down more. suits you”

“well that’s reserved for only you, babe” the soft kiss she presses to your temple and the brush of her hands against your hips makes you want to braid her hair forever until your fingers seize up

i feel like abby doesn’t have much of a dress sense lmao like girl just wears plain clothes and calls it a day. basically how she dresses in game but just less dirty and more kind of.. modern and put together. not the ugly brown boots tho ❌

she wears doc marten boots and adidas sambas. has 3 different pairs of sambas actually

prefers alcohol over drugs. she likes to get drunk in moderation and she can sink so much tequila (she blames manny and nora and says they are bad influences… abby is the one pouring the shots🙄) and she becomes a lot louder and clingy when she’s drunk and thinks she can dance. she can’t.

i kind of mentioned this in my nsfw hc’s but abby probably has an old like iphone 5c or something cos she doesn’t really care about upgrading it

girl hates video games so she probably isn’t big on tech in general. as long as she can call and text she doesn’t care too much

“you may as well just get a nokia, abby..” “what am i? a drug dealer? 🙄”

sticking to the theme, abby doesn’t really use social media that much. she refused to download tiktok because she didn’t want to fall into the trap of endless scrolling (she fell into said trap approx 20 minutes after downloading the app. now it’s “babe have you seen what i sent you yet?” every 10 minutes)

doesn’t care about/keep up with trends etc, confused when u ask her about the roman empire

“i mean, i’ve read about it? what kind of question is that??”

does have a burner instagram acc that she follows u and a few of her closest friends on (not mel)

also uses snapchat every so often to send u gym pics and u get excited thinking it’ll be a mirror pic of her flexing or something but instead it’s just an extreme close up of her sweaty ass red face with the caption ‘Help 🫠’

has an album in her photos called ‘Progress’ where she tracks her gains 🥰 its ur fav and u ask to look at the pics all the time 🥰 shes ur big muscly baby 🥰

abs can get a lil bit hot headed and irate sometimes so u argue every now and then but it’s never anything major, and she always buys u flowers and grovels until you’ve made up anyways

she usually just goes to the gym if she’s feeling some type of way and works out until she’s on the verge of passing out to make her feel better (you told her that she should deal with her anger better. she told you that she know’s what she’s doing…)

calls you babe but that’s kinda it, also likes to be called babe

likes to give u massages and run you a bath… and then gets in the bath with u and takes up basically all of the space

when u went on ur first holiday together she had to use the sicky bag on the plane bc of her fear of heights :(

she’s getting better now tho, just squeezes her eyes shut and holds your hand until the bones almost break… she then falls asleep for basically the entire flight and drools onto her neck pillow lol

refuses to watch anything but american dad at bedtime bc she really enjoys it for some reason

she looks after you with all she has and would go to the end of the earth for you if she could. there’s no one else like her

[singmyaubade]

hi!! i was wondering if you could write a smutty story about sub!james? literally anything, pls🙏🏻

warning: mentions of smut and cursing

sub!james x female!reader

a/n: i did not proofread, i'm sorry if this was not what you were expecting LOL.

james never had any performance issues in his life.

he always managed to be a stallion in bed, giving nothing less and everything more. being a 'sex god,' in his own words, was one of the things he always took pride in.

it was his wings, the only thing that could cheer him up when all else failed.

if quidditch was his first passion, snogging girls was a definite second.

so when ruby weathers, a girl with the best bum in james's year, gives him a chance to sleep with her.

he has no choice but to.

james was ecstatic, practically jumping off of the walls. this was his moment, his opportunity once again to prove himself. there wasn't a single nerve in his body; he never underestimated his more large and not-so-average buddy down there.

before he knew it, he was in his perfect bedroom with weathers, relishing her getting on her knees to suck his cock.

and then, everything came to a halt.

after twenty minutes of her doing that, his buddy refused to get up. he felt the arousal, but his mind and cock were in different places.

after she complained about her jaw locking for the twenty-second time, he decided to get straight to the point. but even when he fucked her, he couldn't get hard.

eventually, ruby just told him awkwardly that it was okay and things clearly weren't working despite him asking her to try a few things. they didn't even exchange last words before she left.

and when she did, he was embarrassed, frustrated, in fact.

he didn't think weathers was the type to tell people's sex business or even gossip for that face.

he knew he was wrong when sirius came urgently yelling, "prongs, your dick is broken?!"

and that was, for sure, the icing on the cake.

he tried everything that didn't involve taking a particular little pill to perform.

he tried spells, teas, and even a massage, but nothing worked. he even thought he was attracted to other things, but it was no point.

eventually, his friends were all sensing his depression. he couldn't even play quidditch properly.

marlene, who felt no sympathy at all, even tried to cheer up james, but it was a loss. he completely lost himself through the entire thing, and yes, it might have been stupid for some people, but it meant a lot to him.

but then dorcas pulled him aside.

"go to the room written here on saturday after lunch," dorcas handed him the card. he looked at her, entirely confused, raising his eyebrow.

"i have a friend who helps with that kind of stuff," she tilted her head, "but don't tell anyone where you are going, and make sure to tell her that i sent you," she instructed to which he nodded and muttered a thank you before dorcas rushed off.

and when saturday after lunch was right there, he didn't know what to do, his fist knocking on your door lightly.

then he saw you, yawning when you opened the door. your hair perfectly laid, wearing a matching pink tank top and shorts that hugged your thighs most comfortably. your nipples were perked up through your tank top, making him swallow.

"eyes are up here, pretty boy." you tased as his face grew red.

"m’sorry," he stuttered, "i was told to uh- i mean, dorcas sent me here."

you looked at him questioningly, "and why did she do that?" you asked, pursing your lips.

"she said you could help me with my uh problem," he whispered, looking around.

"golden boy having a problem that i have to fix?" you tsked, smirking, "interesting." you moved aside to let him, walking to your own bed.

he took that opportunity to look at your ass which was 'bloody fantastic,' he thought. he stood there gawking at you, not knowing if he should come in.

"you coming in or?" you flattered, to which he came in immediately, shutting the door.

he stood there like a scarecrow before you giggled, "come sit with me," you patted the spot next to you on the bed.

he nervously fiddled with his fingers as you placed your hand on his hand to calm him down, "what problems are you having?"

he stayed silent, clearly embarrassed, "james," you grabbed his chin so he looked at you, "i'm here to help you, not judge you,"

he took a deep breath, "i am having trouble during sex."

"what kind of problems?" you asked, using your thumb to brush his fingers.

"i can't get hard," he admitted, looking down.

he was prepared for you to laugh, even mock him for having such a stupid problem, but you still maintained a compassionate face.

"okay," you said, "and when did you start having that problem," you asked.

"two weeks ago," he muttered.

"and have you tried anything new? maybe something new in your sex life?" you suggested.

"i've tried everything i can think of; it's just not happening." he was frustrated.

"okay then let's try everything you haven't thought of." you half-joked.

"like what?" he asked, making eye contact with you.

"hmm," you tapped your chin, "first things first, are you more dominant or submissive?"

"uh," he said, genuinely not knowing.

"okay that's fine, i'll find out," you replied, sounding sure.

"and are you okay with being intimate with me?" you asked.

he could feel his face turning bright red, "y-yeah that's fine, i mean if you are fine with it but if you're not, its okay, i do-"

you kissed him, cutting him off. your tongue entangling his, hand on his thigh. you grabbed his hand, putting it on your breast as his other hand went to your cheek.

you pulled away from him as he whimpered, "what do you want me to do, james?" you asked.

"i don't know," he answered, drunk off your lips.

"can i suck you off, baby?" you asked, your eye contact ripping him into pieces.

"y-yes." he answered nervously as you got onto your knees.

you touched his belt, unbuckling it as you reached up to kiss him one last time. you palmed him through his boxers, not feeling him get hard yet, but you were patient.

you pulled him soft out of his boxers, stroking him fully. he was big even soft which you admit made you dripping in your panties.

your tongue did a long stripe on his cock, making him moan. you sucked on his tip first, putting your hand on his thigh as his hand palmed into a fist.

you put him deeper in your mouth, letting him hit the back of your throat as he whined. you grabbed his hand, unfisting it, interlocking your hand in his.

you continued bobbing your head up and down his length, your other hand stroking whatever you couldn't fit in your mouth.

james continued holding your hand, holding it tighter when you sucked his tip.

"is it good, jamie?" you asked, breathing a bit hard.

"so good," he whimpered.

that's when you finally felt him getting hard, when you talked to him.

"you are doing so well for me," you complimented, "you are being so good."

he groaned at your words as you continued sucking him off, him being fully erect now.

"so big," you managed to say with his cock inside your mouth.

his cock twitched inside your mouth and you knew he was near when he gripped your hand tightly.

"you can do it," you muffled through his cock, the vibrations sending him.

james closed his eyes, leaning his head back before cumming inside of your mouth.

"i wanna kiss you," he whined as you smiled, kissing him with his cum inside of your mouth as it slobbed over both of your chins.

your mouth invaded his as he moaned inside of your mouth. his hands touched your top, tugging at it. you could tell that he wanted it off of you.

"you wanna take off my top for me, jamie?" you asked as he nodded.

you let him take your top off as you straddled his lap, him latching on your nipple as soon as he could which earned a moan from you. his spit all over your chest, your nipples swollen.

you raised off of him for a second to take off your shorts as he looked at you in awe with his big, brown eyes.

you straddled him again, aligning his cock with your hole. he continued sucking on your nipple as you sat down on him and he groaned.

"fuck," you said, "stretching me out."

he was hardening inside of you again, getting drunk off of your pussy.

he whimpered as he hit the spongy spots inside of you. you started a slow speed and once it stopped stinging, you went faster.

he held onto your body tightly, not letting you go. he mewled the faster you went, his cock twitching inside of you due to the immense pleasure.

"so needy baby," you moaned, bouncing up and down.

he hit the perfect spot inside of you as you tried not to grow hazed in pleasure.

"i can't hold it in, mommy." he said, you being a bit surprised at his wording.

"it's okay baby," you soothed, "you can cum." you smoothed the back of his hair.

you kept riding him until he came, not worried about your release. he came with a whimper, sensitive.

"i wanna taste you mommy," he groaned with you still inside of him as he softened inside of you.

"next time jamie, this was for you right now," you grinned, kissing him delicately on his lips.

you tried letting him go but his grip on you was still there, not wanting you to leave.

"i'm not gonna go anywhere," you calmed, him still inside of you.

"i just wanna cuddle for a while," he said.

"okay, we can do that." you gave him a reassuring smile, laying the both of you down, entangled in each other as you gave a peck to his nose.

your eyes fluttered closed as james admired you.

and before he slept, he knew that he definitely owed dorcas his life.

[wannaeatramyeon]

highschooler!gun with a S/O who's shy, but like, really really really shy. Maybe it's because they r still just a teenager, but despite them literally being in a relationship with gun, even hearing the name of him was enough to paint their cheeks red, or in other words, having a huge crush on the stern n stoic school delinquent 🫠

This is just a mess of softness...

High School Gun x Shy!Reader: Blush

G/N.

It's Gun's name that is being mentioned but your ears that are burning.

You can't help it. Even thinking about your delinquent boyfriend sends your brain a bit haywire. The things you let him do to you. That you do to him. It's like everyone can tell you are branded by each other.

Which is silly and ridiculous, of course. Still, you can't help but think that everyone knows.

.

.

Gun said he likes your handwriting. It's an off the cuff compliment, said under his breath as he passed your desk. It shouldn't hold any weight but that was the first time you noticed him.

Cheeks turning red, and the splotchiness reaching all the way past your collar.

It was all downhill from there.

Maybe it was his own scruffy handwriting that captivated you. His chicken scratch that hardly anyone, even the teachers, could decipher except for you.

Or the slight smirk he gave you the first time you caught him smoking as you coughed and gagged on the stench.

On second thoughts, it was definitely when you were partnered for a project and you realised that beneath the bloodied and bruised knuckles, the larger than life reputation, that he could be quiet and unassuming and intelligent.

.

.

You ask him, when it's just the two of you, why he likes you back.

A timid country mouse like you seems awfully mismatched for an apex predator such as Gun Park.

Gun considers it for a moment. He doesn't tell you the usual things boyfriends tell their partners. Instead, he answers honestly and simply-

"You're uncomplicated." He doesn't mean it as an insult, and you don't take it that way. Then he adds with a quiet chuckle, brown eyes softening, "You're cute. I like making you blush."

.

.

Around others and in school, no one asks you about your odd closeness with the strange delinquent, and you don't feel compelled to tell.

No one asks Gun at the risk of being on the receiving end of his wrath.

Yet classrooms and hallways are perfect breeding grounds for gossip. For girls and boys alike to wonder what the relationship status is between you two, for them to recount the time Gun Park spoke to them and how dreamy he is.

It makes you blush recalling the things he says to you in private.

.

.

Gun loves to see you stutter and stammer, away from prying eyes.

In just his company where he can tease out your most furious flushes with the things he does, words he murmurs to you. How even holding your hand can immediately make your palms clammy and your body freeze.

It's dangerously endearing, and spills over into the public moments.

Gun sits next to you in classes most of the time now. Side by side, desks almost touching, gapless.

Curious looks are sent your way now and then. Gun ignores them, so you do too.

He holds your hands through the lessons, sometimes. Under the table, thumb running over your knuckles. A small squeeze when something is on his mind. His face still blank and uninterested at whatever the class topic is.

But then, after a while, he'll notice you watching him. Turning to you, raising his eyebrows like a silent challenging 'what', and a tiny quirk of the lips, for you.

You blush and your ears ring and you don't hear what the teacher says for the next minute.

All you can think of is your hand in his and the heat of Gun Park next to you.

[hypers-omniac]

Dragon!Reader came to me in a dream I’m not even kidding. Maybe it’s my subconscious telling me I need to post smth LOL.

It's been stuck in drafts for a couple days, but im posting in a self-celebration of one of my favorite creators ever following me !!

Anyways here’s wonderwall.

CW: maybe a little suggestive at the end, a tad of angst. BUT NOT MUCH I PROMISE (maybe later)

Can’t stop thinking about dragon!reader- mean and covered in scales, something the forest itself seems to fear as the leaves quiver in the trees. Huffing smoke through your nostrils like the grumpy thing you are, hunted for a reward by many who’ve failed. The waxy glare of the sunlight bouncing off the trees and onto your scales as you sunbathe- gathering the warmth you need and taking a moment to yourself.

Your legend. A bedtime story parents tell their kin about in bedtime stories to stray them away from the forest. Your crudely drawn face posted to the walls of nearby taverns, waiting for the next fool who might take up the challenge and never return. Your claws bear blood, both metaphorical and literal, in a way that haunts you at night during private hours.

It’s your first instinct to be defensive, to be mean and harsh to all that enter your forest it’s all you’ve ever been taught, all you’ve ever known is violence and hatred for what you are. It’s not any different when a rather.. boisterous knight steps into your domain, the crackling of dead and dried leaves alerting you to his presence. You’re all bared teeth and slit eyes- smoke puffing out of your nose at the Invader, readying yourself emotionally to have to spill his blood.

But.. he never attacks. A rookie knight, certainly, with how amazed he seems. You must be the first thing he was sent out to hunt. His blue eyes follow your defensive movements and curled tail, even when you snap your teeth at him. He wears a stupid mohawk that only comes from men his age. Your growls do not deter him, but you can’t bring yourself to attack first when his weapon is not even drawn, the steel not a threat to your scales, just yet.

So you huff once more, the smoke making him cough and splutter, his eyes burning and tearing up. And then you walk away indignantly. Careful to never turn your back as you go about your daily task. Much to your chagrin, he follows you around, asking you questions you refuse to answer- “It’s rather rude to ask a lady her age, knight.”- he’s like a puppy, tail wagging as he follows you around.

Johnny, you learn his name soon enough. Because he comes back the next day, repeating the process. It’s annoying, having a fly buzzing around your ears constantly. But it’s hard to be mad at the little thing when he’s just curious- “No, Knight. I do not lay eggs.”- even if his curiosity wanders occasionally. He called you bonnie, and you can’t bring yourself to reject the title. It’s endearing.

Still, you can’t bring yourself to let your guard down around the man. With every huffing laugh he manages to squeeze from you, your eyes are always drawn back to his sheathed sword attached to his belt. A constant aching reminder of what you can never have, and exactly why. Your tail curls around yourself protectively at the thoughts, the same way it always does around him. It’s so exhausting having to worry about your safety all the time, but what can you do?

Johnny? Oh, he’s just happy to be around a Bonnie lass like you. Trying to be as charming as possible. He just wants you to use them, reader. Pin him down and take what you need until the two of you can get along. Maybe you’ll stop being so grumpy towards him if you take his frustration out on him? A man can dream.

Bloody hell, he’s not even a real knight. But they won’t let anyone into the forest unless they’re authorized. Johnny is just lucky one of his friends is a knight, letting him borrow the armor after a short ramble from the Scot about your picture- the damn drunkard having seen it at his favorite tavern. “Bonnie lass, Kyle. Gotta lemme see her, yeah? Jus’ gotta try- jus’ for a bit, jus’ so they’ll let me in?” Mans WHIPPED.

(He never even brings his sword. It’s an empty sheath and a fake handle, just so he can keep going into the forest in search for you without blowing his cover. What a guy)

[ghoastixx]

you know the episode French Mistake? What if Dean and Sam get sent to the real world and find out their sister is dating someone else in the cast? Like Misha? Idk I just came up with this

The French Mistake

synopsis above

Notes: I literally LOVE episodes that I just get to copy the show and throw little old us in. It's so fun to write. I loved writing the mystery spot one, hoping this one is just as fun.

Author's note: Wasn't sure if you wanted the reader to be transported with sam and dean or not, but for the sake of this being more interesting to read and not just an episode of Supernatural, you get to teleport too. Made the reader Gender Neutral. R/N stands for "real name"

Warning: Spoilers for the end of The Godfather. Cas (Misha Collins) x reader kind of?????????)

For the sake of legality, I do not own the universe, plot, or characters of Supernatural. I am a mere fanficiton author.

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It was a nice afternoon..quiet..not a hunt for once.. a minute to breathe. You were sitting in the kitchen, waiting for Bobby. Dean was at the table, Bobby out and about. Sam walked into the room.

"Where's Bobby?"

"Supply run," You yawned, responding to your brother Sam.

"In this?" Ah yes, the disaster you were in. You had almost forgotten. A shame you hadn't. Dean turned to look at your brother,

"Yeah, man's a hero. We were officially out of hunter's helper." The alcohol had run dry.

"Hello Winchester's. You've seen 'The Godfather' right?" A voice that didn't belong to any of you pulled you away from the dry conversation.

"Balthazar."

"You know the end, where Micheal Corleone sends his men to kill his enemies in one big, bloody swoop?" Balthazar was now messing with things. Pouring salt into a bowl on one of Bobby's desks. You sat up, ultimately confused as your brothers were seething.

"Hey!' Dean yelled,

"'Dead Sea Brine.' Good, good, good. You know, Moe Green gets it in the eye, and Don Cueno gets it in the revolving door?" what was even happening.

"I said 'hey!'"

"You did. Twice. Good for you." Balthazar started going through the fridge. "Blood of lamb.. beer, cold pizza, blood of lamb- yes! blood of lamb!"

You perked up, "Why are you talking about 'The Godfather?'"

"Because we're in it- right now, tonight. And in the role of Micheal Corleone- the archangel Raphael!"

"You mind telling us what you mean?" Dean barked

"no, no, no, no, no, no no." You rolled your eyes. "Yes. Bone of a lesser saint. This vertebra will do very nicely. You're Mr.Singer does keep a beautiful pantry." You looked down at the contents of Bobby's drawer which was now on the floor.

"Raphael is after you?" Dean asked. Sam was awfully quiet."

"Raphael is after all of us." He corrected, ""You see. he's consolidated his strength, and now he's on the move."

"And where's Cas?" Sam finally asked, which grabbed your attention. You missed the angel. He was your friend.

"Oh, Cassie? He is deep, deep underground. So, good old Raffy put out a hit list on every Samaritan who helped our dear Cas- including both of you. And so much more importantly, me. See, he wants to draw Cas out into the open." This made you frown. The thought of Cas having basically ruined his life.

"And you expect us just to believe you?" Sam asked, "Oh. Don't. You'll go where I throw you either way."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean was defensive and Sam was tense. You were trying to piece everything together.

"That's all the time we have Winchesters." He opened his jacket to reveal a wound.. he was bleeding pretty badly. You jumped up to retrieve the first aid kit, or more so what was left of it. "Where is it?"

"Where's what?"

There was some commotion behind you before there was a blinding light and the words that would ring through your ears "RUN." You were shoved through a window with your brothers.

When you opened your eyes it was so bright.. "Cut!" Suddenly there were people helping you up. Dean and Sam were also up and looked equally as confused. You looked over to see someone patting Dean's ass which made you cringe. You looked around. it looked like a t.v set of Bobby's house.

"Jared, Jensen, R/N! Outstanding! That was just great!" The Winchesters all looked at each other with shared confusion which made others around you giggle.

"'Supernatural,' scene one echo, take one. Tail slate. Marker!"

"What happened," Sam muttered, looking around.

"No angels?" You mumble

"No angels." Dean confirms. "I think."

There were people arguing about a scene, about how they 'jumped through the window.'

"What is even happening," You ask out loud,

"No idea." Sam replies. Dean picks up a piece of "window" which is really just fake. The other people keep arguing.

"Jared! Three minutes, okay!" Someone grabbed Sam by the hand, dragging him away.

"Jensen! There you are, let's get you in the chair." Someone drags Dean away.

"R/N," A voice came from behind one of the cameras. A man in a cardigan and a t-shirt underneath. He came up to you, smiling wide. "that was a really good shot, honey. Whenever everyone was reminiscing on Cas? Real heart tugger."

"Cas..?" This man looked so much like..well. A normal Castiel.

"yeah- are you feeling okay? Did you hit your head during the stunt?" You then spotted Sam.

"Uh- I have to go!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dude, they put freakin' makeup on us! Those Bastards!" Dean complained, practically clawing at his skin.

"Look, I think I know what this is,"

"Okay. What?"

"It itches-"

"It's a T.V. show-" As Sam and Dean pondered, you couldn't help but glance at the "normal Cas" that was talking to one of the guys.. this was.. awful.

"We- we landed in some dimension where you're Jensen Ackles." He pointed at Dean. "You're R/N" He points at you. "And I'm Jared Padalecki,"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The three exited the studio, you looked around in awe as Dean spotted the car.

"Oh, hey. Least my baby made it." You looked over to witness someone flinging mud onto it and the pained look on your brother's face.

"Hey. Hey! What-" There are three more impalas. "I'm gonna be sick. I want to go home. I feel like this whole place is bad-touching me." You nod in agreement as Sam agrees.

"yeah, I know. Me too. So, what do you think? Cas?"

You perk up, "Oh! I talked to a guy who looked like him earlier." You start to look around,

"So he's run his ass away from heaven here?" Dean spots him.

"cas? Cas! Hey, Cas! Oh, thank god. What is all this, huh? W-what did Balthazar do to us?"

The man you spoke to earlier approached, he looks stern. Like the Castiel you know. It made something in your chest tighten. "To keep you out of Virgil's reach, he's cast you into an alternate reality, a universe similar to ours in most aspects yet dramatically different in others."

"Like- like Bizarro earth, right? Except instead of having Bizarro Superman, we get this clown factory." The Cas looks a little confused.

"Um...Yeah, well...Anyway, no time to explain. Do you have the key?" You tilt your head, but Sam pulls out a key.

"So, uh, what does this thing do, anyways?"

"It opens a room."

"What's in this room?" You ask

"Every weapon Balthazar stole from heaven."

"he gave it to us?" Dean asks, almost hesitantly.

"To keep it safe until I could reach you. With those weapons, I have a chance to rally my forces."

You sigh relief, "Oh. Okay. good. Yeah, so now.. uh, what's the deal with all this T.V. crap?" Sam asks, a bit annoyed.

"pardon?" The Cas's brow furrows

"Yeah. Amen, Padaleski." You nod as Dean says this.

"Uh, 'Lecki'" Sam corrects.

"What?" Dean mutters,

"Lecki. Pretty sure."

The Cas pulled out a packet of papers, "Man. Did they put out new pages?" He mutters.

"New what?"

"I mean, is this some kind of cosmic joke?" You ask the Cas who looks up at you with an almost hurt expression.

"yeah, 'cause if it is, it's stupid and we don't get it." Dean backed you up. Sam agreed.

"Are you guys okay?" The Castiel imposter asked. Dean grabbed the supposed script from him, flipping through it.

"Give me that. What is- these are words in a script. This isn't Cas." You chest tightens again as hope drains from your face.

"Dude, look at him." Sam mumbles as the imposter unbuttons his shirt, wearing a graphic t-shirt underneath it.

"You guys want to run lines, or..?"

Dean reads the script. "His name's Misha..Misha?"

"Oh wow.."

"Just great-" The imposter looks at you again, he's only looking at you with these mixed expressions of deeper confusion. Dean continues rambling.

"Misha? Jensen? R/N? Whats up with the names around here?" As soon as Dean says this, "Misha" laughs a bit.

"You guys! You really punked me! Im totally gonna tweet this one." He pulls out a phone.

"What's a tweet," You whisper-ask Sam as "Misha" starts to read out loud.

"Hola mishamigos. J-squared...got me good."

"I just want to dig my finger in my brain and scratch until we're back in Kansas."

All three Winchesters begin to walk away before "Misha" yells. "Hold on, R/N! Are you still on for dinner tonight!?" You feel your cheeks start to red a bit as Dean and Sam look at you.

"Er- might have to reschedule-" You yell back as you turn away and quickly leave.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You all huddled into "Jensen Ackles" trailer. He had awful taste.. you all began to do research on yourselves. Jensen and Jared are interesting. Models and TV stars. They get to you.

"R/N.. Says here that you.. you were an actor. Also-" Sam looks up, glancing at Dean and then back at you. "You're also dating a Misha Collins." Your jaw drops.

"No way! Fake Cas!?" Dean exclaims, "That's probably why he asked you about dinner-" You bury your face in your hands. Sam clears his throat.

"Y/N, is there something you have to tell us..?"

"No!"

As Dean and Sam continue to talk about how they could possibly get out of here, you take the computer.. looking at pictures of you and Misha.. you two look happy together.. your chest tightens again.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were all losing hope as everything you tried was failing. All the ingredients Balthazar had used were now rubber.. the Impala was a prop.. nothing was working. So now you were trying to figure out what to do next.

"Me? Yes. um. I- I'll just tag along with uh-" Dean stuttered around. Misha and a crew member where standing in front of you.

"Jared."

"Jared...Jared here."

"Huh- since when are you guys talking?" The crew member asks as Misha looks at you,

"So..busy tonight?" You bite the frown that wants to crawl onto your face. You would like to have dinner with him, but you cannot just abandon your brothers for a man you don't even know.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Gonna work with Jared and..Jensen."

"I didn't know you guys were getting along again."

"Ah- you know...the way we are.."

"Well, call me if you need me to come get you," He kissed your cheek before leaving. You glanced at Sam and Dean as your face was red.

"I'll kill him." Dean muttered.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Turns out Jared is filthy rich and is dating Ruby of all people. She seems a bit surprised to see you and Dean in the mansion. Saying neither of you have ever been there. She seems.. defensive. You all hole up in the library of the mansion and order stuff you need. The next day, you all go to the set of Bobby's house with a solution in mind and get permission to have the set cleared for a few hours.

When you and Sam show up to see cameras, you almost wanna vomit as Dean looks sheepishly away. He did not infect get the set cleared and the Misha guy was back. So.. you all have to do a little bit of acting. You're all awful at it.

Hours seemed to have passed and the Misha guy is still "tweeting" whatever that is. Then the day is over and you're all sent away again.. That was after you all attacked what you thought was Virgil.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the experience was all hazy to you. The Misha guy had ended up taking you back to your trailer and giving you some pills and that was all you really remembered. Sam and dean tried to explain how you got back, but it didn't make much sense to you. Not that you cared much anymore. There were more important things to focus on!

But Dean and Sam never let go the Misha guy, insisting something was going on between you and Castiel. You insisted there wasn't...

But..maybe the next time you saw Castiel..maybe you could pretend he was the Misha guy for just a minute longer.

(I'm sorry this ended so abruptly and lame. I worked on this for two hours and honestly didn't know how to finish it I'm sorry!!!)

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

i’m literally obsessed with your cowboy jason what’s he going to do about black mask?

"Didn't mean to horn in on your territory-"

"I'm just passin' through," Jason said shrugging, keeping his stance relaxed. He can feel you watching. Weighing options. And he just hoped if it came down to a fight in your yard you had sense enough to stay out of the way. But when he was you tighten your grip, he didn't think so. Damn. "The lady was kind enough to let me sleep in the loft for some handy work while I wait on my next job."

"What business you in?" he asked, sizing Jason up.

"Railroad." It was plausible enough. New lines were going in all over the place. And he was big enough- and rough enough no one tended to question it. He looked like he could swing hard with hammers or fists. And the hard muscle he'd seen you gawk at when he hauled water looked like it could pull a cart without a horse.

"Well," Black Mask said, smiling, "You ever want work that pays better, come find me. I could use a man like you."

"I might just," Jason said. "Hows about we leave the lady to her work and go grab a drink- Sherri-Anne should be opening up about now."

"Sounds like a plan. It's hotter than the devil's asshole out here."

And it was only by sheer force of will that Jason didn't cringe hearing a man say something like that in front of a lady- even if he knew you could swear a blue streak all on your own. And even if he thought it was fitting- especially when you whacked your thumb with a hammer or burnt the back of your arm when one of the girls startled you screaming bloody murder.

"It should only be an hour or so," you add helpfully, wiping your forehead with your sleeve to keep sweat from running into your eyes.

"Long enough for a beer," Jason nodded. Perfect. Long enough to plan. And if you were smart, long enough for you to send the girls to town to stay with the school mistress or the preacher and his wife.

"Tell Miss Sherri I sent you," you tell them. "She'll fix you up right."

"Yes ma'am," Black mask said, turning to appraise you again. And it was a look that made Jason have to take a deep breath. You were a good girl. Not a cow at the fair- next thing you know he'd be prying your mouth open to get a look at your teeth.

[nicromancytarot]

MY FAVOURITE MANIFESTATION EXPERIENCE

Hello and welcome to more rants and random facts with Nicromancy, I am your host and today we will be discussing how I manifested my cat!

So let me bring you back to 2022, I had been telling my friends that I entended to get a cat for months - like literally months, and I’m sure they were all losing faith in me with how bloody long it was taking.

I decided to be good for the world and rescue a cutsie little creature from a rescue centre, so I apply for FIVE DIFFERENT CATS.

I get denied for all. Apparently I live too near to a road (DOESNT EVERYONE???)

So I take a break from trying to get a cat, I have my prom, I attend my last day at school, all the normal things of that year. Until early June comes and I search “cats for sale near me” I didn’t wanna go too far brother, I wasn’t going to try and convince my mother to take me to the other side of the country so I could have a fluffy friend to cuddle with.

Alas! I find a guy selling four cats only twenty minutes from me. So I look at the cats, and I see this gorgeous tabby, stunning little thing with blue eyes, fitting perfectly the name that I had previously chosen for her, 🫧Toast🫧. And so she was my token to freedom (didn’t know she was a she at the time, just knew she was the one)

So I send a message and I am allowed to meet the cats the next week.

TWO DAYS BEFORE I MEET THE CATS and I have a dream about the other girl, a cute little tuxedo cat, with the most beautiful splotches of black. I hadn’t thought of this cat prior, she was never on my mind, I even sent her to my friend to see if she was interested since she was looking for a cat.

However I woke up that morning and I knew what I had to do. I had to meet that cat.

So the next day we set off on a trek along the natures birth and meet my new cat, we get lost for the first 20 minutes, knock on a random door, and then finally get to see the cats. And we had all four cats to pick out of since we were the first offers 😈😈

We enter the house and I immediately see my precious tuxedo, however she was picked up and decided to run to the other side of the room to play in the shoes.

Now I am awkward, born and raised that way, I’ll tell ya. So I didn’t grab that cat, no no, I sat with the tabby girl and I chose her after she meowed in my face for picking her up.

Now I was sad, happy I had my sweet baby, but sad at the missed opportunity.

Timeskip to the last two weeks before I pick up my first-born child, I get a message from the man.

Hello, just making sure you’re still available to pick up the cat on the 15th

Of course! I am so excited!!

Wonderful, just wanted to check as the other people who were supposed to come and pick up a cat haven’t responded, so the black and white girl is still available if you’d like her

It was as if the heavens had gifted me with a second chance at life, they had said I made a mistake and let me rewind to my past and fix my dues.

Now I knew I couldn’t convince my mother to pay for both the cats, not with the deposit and price of the first, this was a thing for me, she was not all so excited to have a little couch muncher.

So I asked for the price… AND HE KNOCKED IT DOWN, LADS!!!

So I was able to have them both!

And since that day, we have all been connected at the toes.

I present to you, my Toast and Moony

I hope this serves to you all that no manifestation is too big, if it is meant for you, it will happen! KEEP MANIFESTING SO YOU CAN LIVE THE LIFE YOU DESIRE!!!!!!!

[syndrossi]

look i’ve barely begun to scratch the surface of the asks/comments i have from the most recent chapter but for now i gotta talk about this scenario my brain started forming on the commute back home from work. (it’s a 20-25-30min something drive depending on traffic) so i had a lot of time to think about shit whilst epic trailer music played in the background.

so, the scenario is most likely someone daemon has wronged in the past or someone that blames daemon for some misfortune or betrayal.

at some point in their lives, either when they’re teenagers, young adults, or hell when they’re twelve if you want, the kiddies get kidnapped again. only this time, they’re more of an insurance policy to keep daemon in line whilst torturing him with the fact that his kids have been taken again. i’m just now realizing this could have been more of a dance-era situation but don’t be limited by that!

daemon has caught one of main guys, probably the orchestrated responsible, but he can’t just kill him, he has to find out where are his sons and he’s the only lead. the guy responds with vague comments, that eerie type shit kind of like alys rivers but less fun. he then reveals that he will tell daemon where his sons are, he just won’t be able to save both them.

he reveals that he sent one to the stepstones, the eldest that takes after his father. and he sent the other beyond the wall to the land of always winter, the younger who matches the landscape. daemon never considered his sons would be separated. and now here’s the real fuckery of it all, the guy threatens daemon that within [insert time limit] his men will be instructed to kill his sons, he’ll only tell daemon where they both are at the last second [daemon also wouldn’t have time to contact rhaenyra or laenor or rhaenys or any other dragonrider bc there just isn’t enough time to get them here and they’re fucking far away atm], as he would only be able to fly to one of them with enough time to save them, leaving the other to die. so he asks daemon which son he was willing to sacrifice. daemon is horrified by the idea of it.

that’s all i got so far.

although i do have this fun little thought that whilst this dude is threatening his sons and forcing daemon to go through this mental torture of sacrificing one of his sons to save the other, the one that takes after him or the one that looks like him? and during that time we cut to this figure dripping in blood walking through the castle or keep or wherever daemon and this guy are atm. we keep cutting back to daemon and this guy and back to the guy dripping in blood getting closer to where daemon is. we keep seeing shots of hands bloodied and bruised, clothes stained red, loud boots, and then the shot focuses when the door opens and both men see jon, drenched in blood from head to toe (reminiscing of daemon when he killed the crabfeeder/older jon when he fought in TBOTB). jon doesn’t say a word, he just pounces on the guy, beating him senseless until daemon grabs him, he focuses on his son, they hug, etc etc, and now we can go get rhaegar.

except rhaegar is 100% having his own little side adventure bc he def escaped. and might end up found by some men of the night’s watch or something. but he definitely would have to go through some rough patches, having to survive in the cold wild for a while until he’s found or he finds them.

this is also kinda bad bc now daemon and jon are tryna find rhaegar but now rhaegar is gone, and it’s just like SHIT, how are they gonna find each other again??

- i have no idea what to do with the hatchlings during this holy shit

Funnily enough, ravens and dragons fly about the same distance a day on average. (Slightly more for ravens, maybe 300 miles per day vs a more standard 250 miles for a dragon.) But dragons CAN push themselves. So evil villain could literally just send ravens with a "kill them" order and Daemon would have to choose which raven to race.

Evil villain would have to be very unhinged not to cash in on Volantis's extravagant bounty on either of the boys (let's say they're twelve), so definitely someone Daemon has pissed off beyond measure, likely at the Stepstones. (Or Allard, stripped of power and honor, driven to revenge? Becoming the villain he's always been in Daemon's mind?)

The twins have a special bond with their dragons that allows them, especially when older, to call them from an impressive distance for short periods of time. So it could be that Jon's dragon strays into range if he flies out looking for him (the Stepstones are much closer to King's Landing/Dragonstone than the North is), allowing Jon to pull a daring escape that involves carving a bloody path through his captors and flying back to Daemon, either to carve a new bloody path if the location is controlled by the enemy, or to scare the living daylights out of anyone who comes across his dried blood-flaked clothes and hair as he storms up to wherever Daemon is.

Meanwhile, I could see Rhaegar being his usual uncannily charming self, armed with knowledge of the Old Tongue, which he insisted a tutor be hired to teach them once Jon mentioned its relevance to his original struggle with the Others. Eerie, pale-haired child who can speak the Old Tongue and sings songs of ice and dragons? The band of wildlings who stumble upon him after he escapes his original captors aren't sure what to do with the boy other than bring him back north of the Wall. Ultimately, Rhaegar convinces them that they will be cursed if they do not take him to Winterfell, which is where they eventually reunite.

[darkserenity24]

𝑭𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒐𝒎 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒐𝒔 - 𝑪𝒉 5

Loki x Reader

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙇𝙤𝙠𝙞 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙮.

𝘈/𝘕: 𝘞𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘳, 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘤. 𝘓𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘱 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵

𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔

Your gaze darted back and forth between the last two people you wanted to meet, your chest tightening with a severe amount of apprehension. 

What the actual hell? How did Kayla not recognize the very person she was just ranting about staying very far away from? Had she never seen video footage of him? A photo? Nada? 

You eyed Kayla carefully as she let out a wispy chuckle, providing Loki with a blinding smile.

“Oh, you do? Great! That means I won’t have to go through the trouble of introducing myself after all. Though, I didn’t quite catch your name.” She hinted, smoothing back a piece of hair behind her ear in a flirtatious manner.

Loki continued to glower severely at the blonde before him—the woman whose brother he literally took apart with his bare hands only about a month ago. You winced at the memory and tried to ignore the white-knuckled fists he held tightly at his sides.

Tilting her head to the side, Kayla’s smile slowly waned, blue eyes filling with uncertainty.

“I’m sorry,” she blinked at him. “Did I say something wrong? Or did you not hear me ask for your name several times already?”

You instantly paled at her boldness.

Taking quick action, you swiftly stepped between them, facing Kayla and your back turned to Loki. She reluctantly dragged her gaze from Loki to you.

“Um, Kayla… this is Loki.” You divulged, face holding an uneasy expression.

Her features froze for a split second and then her eyes got big when your words finally registered in her head.

“.... L-loki?”

You nodded your head slowly. “Mhmm.”

You were fully expecting to witness her run away screaming bloody murder to anyone and everyone who would listen.

However, that was not what she did.

“Oh. Okay,” She blinked, her face relaxing a little. “That explains… yeah.”

She ran a hand through her hair nervously before sending a shy smile back in Loki’s direction. 

“Of course, you’d know who I am.” She chimed, grabbing your shoulders to spin you around to face Loki. 

He looked anything but pleased to be talking to Kayla, and he wasn’t even attempting to hide it.

“She’s probably told you a lot about me, I’m sure. We’re the best of friends you know!” She giggled.

Your mind spun in confusion, not understanding her sudden change in heart. She hated Loki and always had. Was this some sort of tactic to make herself seem harmless before she removed herself from the situation and proceeded to escape as fast as she could?

Loki’s jaw ticked, eyes darkening in a way that had you holding your breath before he finally opened his mouth to speak to her. 

“Oh, I know a lot about you and your festering sore of a sibling who is likely rotting in a-”

“Wow!” You yelled out while throwing your hands up, hurriedly interrupting Loki’s barely concealed confession.

You were so loud that a few nearby guests glanced over in your direction with curiosity. Or it could’ve been annoyance. You didn’t know which one but didn’t care at that moment. You had more urgent things to think about like how to get Kayla and Loki away from each other as fast as possible.

You threw a sharp smile Loki’s way, the unspoken warning highly evident in your eyes before glancing back to Kayla with a sheepish look. “Haha… he’s so funny, am I right? A complete jokester, I tell you. Let’s just take a moment to breathe here. How about we-.”

“Wait, did you say my brother?” Kayla inquired, turning her attention back to Loki.

Either she didn’t hear the very colorful words Loki used to describe Jacob or she was simply choosing to ignore them.

When Loki didn’t say anything in response, you sent out a silent prayer to the heavens. Yet, the extreme malice emanating from his being was strong. He wore an aggravated look of impatience, anger simmering underneath his visage as he continued to stare daggers right into her.

You attempted to save face, answering for him. “Yes, Jacob had briefly… worked with Loki at the tower for a while before he left.”

She blinked before her mouth formed an ‘o’ and the look of sudden realization popped onto her face. 

“Duh! Of course, you do!” She chuckled, placing a well-manicured hand on her hip. “Well, for the record I am nothing like him. Yeah, we’re related but-”

“Heeeeyy, Kayla!” A voice called out as they got closer to the three of you. 

“Long time no see. How have you been?” Nat asked more excitedly than you were used to her being. 

Kayla gasped when she turned her attention towards Nat. “Natasha! It’s so good to see you.”

Nat grinned, placing a hand on Kayla’s arm. “We have to catch up. Wanna grab a drink at the bar?”

Kayla nodded enthusiastically before turning towards you and Loki as if she had forgotten you were still there. “Oh shoot! I was just meeting Loki. I’d hate to be rude and leave so soon.”

“Nonsense.” Nat waved her hand dismissively. “I’m a lot more fun than him and he knows it. Come on! Let’s go before all the fireball is gone.”

Nat was practically dragging Kayla away before you knew it, sending you a quick glance over her shoulder to wink at you as they disappeared into the crowd.

You took only a second to release a large sigh of relief but wasted no time leading Loki straight out of the ballroom, only stopping when you were both far enough down the hall before you whipped around to face him with wide eyes. 

“What the heck was that back there!?” You whispered harshly, pointing down the hall towards the ballroom.

He hardly reacted to your fierce expression of indignation, only raising a brow. “What? Did you truly expect me to greet her with open arms? That clown is not your friend and you know it. I don’t trust her one bit.”

“Don’t call her that!” You sputtered, taken aback by his attack on her character. “She hasn’t done anything to deserve your foul attitude.”

“No?” his face darkened as he took a step closer to you. “Did she not take you seriously when you informed her about her maggot brother harassing you at every moment he could? Did she not prevent telling you that he was an insidious bastard?”

 “She didn’t know…” 

He scoffed, throwing you a look that would surely make anyone else feel completely stupid.

“Are you serious? Do you truly believe that?”

You took a beat too long to answer and he continued.

“Please enlighten me on why you are still friends with the sister of a man who led an attack on you not very long ago.”

You swallowed hard, staring straight at his chest. He was making you feel as if you had done something wrong. But you did nothing wrong. He was the one who was being a complete ass at that very moment.

“Kayla didn’t attack me, Jacob did. She’s innocent.” you declare stubbornly.

Loki stared at you as if you had just said something completely insane. “Innocent? Surely she knew about his disgusting behavior and had presumably been protecting him for years. She is far from innocent.”

“You don’t know that Loki, and neither do I.” You crossed your arms in defiance, staring up at him. “Regardless of what you say, I’m still going to be friends with her so just leave it alone.” You said sternly.

His jaw clenched and he shook his head as he loomed over you. “No. I will not merely stand by while you continue to make these brainless decisions as if you did not just go through an incredibly harrowing experience. In case you have forgotten, I am no longer being held within a cage which means I now have the full ability to put a stop to this nonsense. The Avengers failed you. She failed you. She is the one who could have prevented all those terrible things he did to you. You faced the consequences of her carelessness and now she must face the knowledge of her sibling being torn to shreds.” He seethed with an intense gaze.

There was no immediate response as you avoided his gaze. You cursed at yourself when you felt hot tears sting the corners of your eyes. Why did you always have to be such a crybaby? And why was Loki always around to witness it?

You felt him shuffle closer but you kept your head down, too embarrassed to meet his criticizing gaze. 

You heard him call out to you, but you still didn’t answer him.

You kept your head down in the hopes that he’d just walk away and let you deal with your feelings alone. But that wasn’t very Loki.

“Little dove,” he repeated in a much softer tone, placing a finger under your chin and gently lifting your watery gaze to meet his.

Meeting his gaze was oddly comforting. It was as if you craved for his approval deep down. His eyes were gentle and his brows drawn together as he observed you.

“I fear I must apologize for my behavior with you. I am being unnecessarily harsh and I am sorry for that. You are not the one who deserves neither my ire or frustration.”

Your lips twitched into a not so convincing smile, your eyes still sad. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I understand. This situation is just as hard for you as it is for me.”

His fingers released your chin, and then he proceeded to place a gentle hand on your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. The closer you got to him the more he could feel his body heat and smell his natural scent. He smelled like warmness and fresh pine.

“You are wrong. This is immensely more difficult for you. I made it more difficult for you. Am I not the reason for your night terrors?” 

You frowned. “I’m not blaming you for that.”

“No, but I know this is still true.”

Your eyes fell to his chest. “Either way, it doesn’t matter anymore. I haven’t had them as much since you kind of helped me out that night,” you admitted

He smiled tenderly at you. “I am happy to be of assistance. You can summon me to chase away your nightmares anytime you need.”

Loki hadn’t shown up in your bedroom after that night, and you haven’t asked him to come since then. It’s not like you didn’t think about it, but how could you ask someone who wasn’t one of your female friends to come to your room and hang out with you? You didn’t need anyone getting suspicious, especially since you knew they were watching Loki with a heavy eye.

“You’re a really good friend, you know that?” You told him with sincerity in your expression.

His lips twitched into a half smirk. “Yes, I am aware but do not let anyone else hear you utter those words. I fear I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep my lips sealed.”

“Oh, you must,” he cautioned in a dark silky tone, a sly grin forming on his face. “For I may have to punish you if you do not.”

Your lips parted and your mouth went dry, incapable of forming an intelligible response to his specifically worded warning. The way his words sent shivers down your spine was severely disconcerting to you.

You could’ve been mistaken, but you got the sense that he was amused by your speechlessness, a glint of mischief twinkling in his green eyes.

His gaze slowly traveled downward, examining you carefully. “Did I not mention how enchanting you look tonight?” He professed in a breathy tone. 

Chills ran down your spine when you felt his thumb brush against your bare shoulder ever so slightly. He’s complimented you before of course, but this felt different. You couldn’t explain how at that moment. 

The chills continued rolling through your body you felt like you were getting warmer by the second. Your brain could not form a clear thought, not understanding how you both got to this point after just having a serious argument.

When he lifted a teasing brow, you realized that you hadn’t answered his question. “Um n-no you didn’t, but thank you. So do you. ”

Loki looked quite impressive. Honestly, impressive was such an understatement. The way the all-black tux fit his lithe, sinewy figure was criminal. It was as if it was made just for him.

You were tongue-tied, not being able to express how you felt at the moment as you met his soul-piercing gaze. His eyes were as deep and inscrutable as the galaxies themselves. You felt as if you were falling into a trance-like state.

That’s until it was interrupted by someone calling out to you.

“Angel, there you are!” Steve exclaimed as he jogged down the hall towards you and Loki. You felt him tense, and he slowly moved away from you. You immediately shivered, feeling the absence of his warmth.

Steve sent Loki a brief glance, nodding his head in a poor attempt at acknowledgment. 

“Laufeyson.” Steve muttered.

“Rogers,” Loki responded cooly.

You could have cut the tension between them with a rusty knife.

You rubbed your arms, greeting Steve with a light smile. “Hey, Steve. What’s up?”

“I’ve been looking all over for you. Nat said you were here but I couldn’t find you through the sea of people.” He shook his head before placing his hands in his pockets. “Anyway, they just opened up the floor and turned on some good music. Thought I’d come to see if you wanna dance.”

“Me? Dance?” You snorted with raised brows. “What would make you think I’d want to do that? You know I’m not a dancer.”

He smirked. “Yeah, I know that but I wanted to ask you anyway.”

“I-” you glanced over at Loki who was still standing there beside you. His jaw was tensed and his body stiff. He was eyeing Steve with a strange look.

You frowned, not wanting to leave him, but also not wanting to disappoint Steve. You were torn.

“I don’t know…” you muttered.

“It’s alright,” Loki voiced out, glancing in your direction with a nod. “Go on, enjoy yourself. This is a celebration after all, isn’t it?” 

“O-okay. If you’re sure.” You stuttered before taking hesitant steps away from him and towards Steve.

The blonde smiled, holding his hand out to you. You took it with a shiver, not understanding why it was so cold in the building. 

Steve must have noticed since he frowned and quickly started removing his suit jacket. “As amazing as you look, we can’t have you shivering to death.”

“Oh no, that’s okay Steve, I’m not that…”

He had already placed his jacket around your shoulders before you could finish your sentence. It surprised you by how warm it was and you instantly melted into it. 

“... cold. Wow, I guess I was pretty cold after all. Thank you.” You admitted sheepishly.

“Of course, Angel, anytime. Now let's go have that dance.”He winked at you, placing his hand lightly on the small of your back.

As Steve led you back towards the ballroom, you glanced over your shoulder to see Loki still standing where you left him. 

Your gaze never left his until you were completely out of sight.

It was much later into the night when finally left the party, Steve escorting you back to the tower and up to your room. 

You understood that he didn’t need to walk you there but Steve was always the gentleman. He was a great friend to you and you appreciated him too much to tell him no.

Plus, you ended up needing his help after all. The energy you had for most of the night felt like it had been completely drained from your body. You were sluggish, stumbling over your feet as you walked.

“Whoa,” Steve said, reaching out to you. “I didn’t think we partied that hard. You didn’t have any drinks, did you?”

“Hmm… no,” You responded before clearing your throat. “Sorry, I think I’m just very tired. I don’t know why. Just need to get to sleep I guess.”

He nodded with a raised brow. “Alright. Good thing we’re almost there.”

You thanked him when the both of you finally reached your room, grateful to be closer to your bed.

“Of course, Angel,” He responded in kind. “I’d ask if you wanted any company you know… to just hang out since it’s not too late, but from the looks of it the only company you need is your bed right now.”

You let out a chuckle that transformed into a yawn. “Yeah, maybe next time. If I wasn’t such a snore we could’ve gone to the theater room and watched a movie or something.” He blinked, dark blonde brows raising. “Oh, yeah, in the theater room.” He looked down at the floor with a contemplative look before meeting your eyes again. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

You nodded and cleared your throat before wincing a little. “Y-yeah. See you tomorrow.”

You didn’t give him much of a chance to say anything else, entering your room and closing the door immediately. You covered your mouth with both hands as you waited a minute to make sure Steve was gone before you removed your hands, instantly going into a fit of heavy coughs.

You slowly trailed to the bathroom, still coughing along the way. Your eyes watered from how severe and heavy they were getting. You filled a glass of water from the faucet before downing it almost choking on the liquid as the coughs continued to rack your body.

After a moment, they died down and you let out a tired sigh. Pulling open the bathroom cabinet, you rummaged around until you found what you were looking for.

You swallowed down the pills with a grimace, starting to truly despise your new nightly routine. You had forgotten to take them last night, and now you were suffering the consequences of that mistake.

When you were finished you shuffled to your bedroom and kicked off your heels, closed the door, and flopped facedown onto your bed straight away.

You hadn’t even had the energy to remove your dress as you fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

If you still had been awake, you might have noticed the dark shadow lingering underneath the other side of your bedroom door.

Story Masterlist

✦ 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘰. 𝘙𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 ;)

✦ 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘒𝘰-𝘧𝘪 ✨: 𝘩𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘴://𝘬𝘰-𝘧𝘪.𝘤𝘰𝘮/𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺24

𝘛𝘢𝘨 𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘵: @aintnooooway @mischief2sarawr @talesofadragon @cass0419 @lcolumbia1988 @timeladyrikaofgallifrey @echo-is-worth-more-than-2000

[hhighkey]

Nanami Kento Headcanons

AGE GAP SERIES - GENERAL

f!reader

series: how you met,

the most perfect man

you’re a good amount of years younger than him let’s say between 5-7 years for our sake but i feel like you gotta be old enough to drink for this man to consider

be prepared to be courted

like properly taken out on dates, sent flowers, constant calls, and check-ins

you’ll never be left on the dark with this man

never opening a door around him i am convinced

i saw someone say he’d keep his hands on your waist as someone’s passing by to move you and ugh yes

lowkey dads you

will straight up scold you if you’re being a brat or doing something risky

sometimes he’s a little too mature for your liking, you’re upset and just looking for an argument and he doesn’t argue. he wants to communicate- you’ve never had that before and it’s foreign

he can be impatient about detrimental things, childish things, but he’s always patient with you

or tries to be patient… will always listen to you ramble and try to see it from your side. but he’s like wow that’s such an immature way of thinking and just has to deal with it

i imagine if you vape it pisses him off sm he’ll just rip it out of your hand and scold you idk why i had this thought

you’re literally his perfect girl

he adores you in every way

calls you dear and honey

always walks behind you when going up stairs so no one looks at your ass

always brings a jacket when you two go out, regardless if he needs it because you always do even when you insist you don’t

he’ll go to the bar with you and your friends ofc if you ask, but he’ll feel out of place. he’s more of the fine establishments type person where everyone’s dressed up and that’s where he’d prefer to spend his time off with you besides home

loves spoiling you

loves watching you get flustered as you’re not used to it- pretty jewelry and bags make you red in the face

you’re just always trying to tell him you don’t need all that stuff like you’re good!

friends joke he’s your sugar daddy (he borderline likes it too)

you’re a civilian as i can see him needing a constant to come home to

loves when you are just hanging out and you lay your head on his lap so he can play with your hair and keep you close

but that means you’re stuck worrying a lot

sometimes turns into him having to console you and support you over his career more so than anything else

which you feel so guilty but you’re too young to deal with the emotions and be able to set them aside to support him

but you try- like shoulder massages after a hard job, sitting with him in silence until he’s ready to talk

you see him all bloody once as he had a tough job, gojo got you from school (pls why do i see you being a grad student) or work

and you’re traumatized seeing him beat up like that- he’d wait days sometimes to see you again to rid of major injuries

you don’t know how to handle it. you don’t know if you can handle it but you love him

sometimes the age gap does take its toll on both of you

you still love going out, drinking, making dumb decisions not ready for the real world whereas he’s cynical about life, works tirelessly

i would say that’s where all the arguments stem from

his frustration with your actions and lack of care towards yourself. you can barely cook to save your life, you hardly do laundry, and you’re deathly hungover when he wants to get breakfast

why doesn’t he want to get black out drunk with you? he doesn’t want to go to girls night? or why is he still at work late? you’ll blame gojo for that one

it probably forces y’all to sit down and really talk about what you both want out of the relationship

which is each other

i wanna write so much age gap stuff for him

nsfw

dom! pleasure dom like always complimenting you and singing you praise about how good you feel

if he’s your first- he’ll take that very seriously

gentle with you like you’d break in his arms

walks you through everything he’s doing

preps you so perfectly, making you finish with his tongue before he even touches you, is very big on foreplay always

is more for your pleasure than his own

large :)

stretches you out, your gasping for him as you grasp his biceps

calls you princess in bed

“such a good girl.”

“so tight for me.”

“you like that?”

“feel so good around my cock.”

“c’mon princess, come for me.”

teases you so much, has you begging for him to fuck you, touch you, let you finish

king of aftercare with baths and cuddles aw

[arzuera]

Danny thought his most bizarre experience is being summoned by cultists as the Ghost King. Turns out his current predicament beats it by flying colors as he is currently bound as sacrifice for his own summoning circle.

He knew that his luck was bad but he didn’t think that it would be THIS bad. Dozens of cultists circled the raised ritual table and he was beginning to wonder if there would be an opportunity to free himself or not. Was it possible to die in his own summoning circle? Or would it just create some sort of endless paradox of life and death as he arose in his ghost form only to be sacrificed in his human one? This was something that had never been encountered before. There was no one to ask. Clockwork might know the outcome but unless it horrendously affected the time stream, odds are the ancient wasn’t going to interfere. So that left Danny with only one option. He had to get out of this himself.

But how was he going to do that without outing his alternate identity?

Just as he was pondering on using some of his ghostliness to freeze everyone in place, there was a loud explosion that shook the entire room. Several of the cultists scattered but the core ones remained in their spots so that the ritual wasn’t broken. The circle had begun to glow an ominous green as the ritual began to enter its beginning stages. Shouts and flashing lights followed as the newcomers stormed their way up the stairs toward the summoning. Danny sighed to himself in relief.

Maybe he wouldn’t have to do anything after all.

“Alright, you bloody show ponies. Step away from the circle and no one gets… Oh, bloody hell.” A familiar blonde man in a trench coat knocked anyone who tried to stop him out of his way. Only to stop when he saw the circle and the sacrifice who rested upon it. “Don’t you think this is a bit much? If you wanted to get my attention you have my fucking cellphone number for Christ's sake.”

Danny gave the man a wicked grin. His eyes lit up at the newest arrival. “But you know I have a flair for the dramatics, Constantine. Someone has to shake things up once in a while.” This was too good. The halfa flopped his head back against the table and wiggled in his restraints. “Please, save me! I am just a poor innocent young lad about to have his life cut short too soon to bring upon the end of the world.”

Constantine rolled his eyes at the theatrics. “Only one of those things is true and here I was calling these guys the show ponies. Hang on, your majesty. I’ll get you out in a minute.”

“Your majesty?” One of the cultists in the circle looked at the magician as he spoke. Only to be blasted off the circle by a fireball.

“Yep. I was told someone was trying to do something stupid and when I get here I find that they are trying to sacrifice someone stupid.” The magician sent several more of the cultists sprawling out of their positions with the lights of the summoning circle began to dim. “How did this even happen?!”

Danny hummed to himself as lights of magic flashed around him with the screams of cultists following soon after. “Well, it’s kind of a funny story actually. You see I was on a field trip to one of those ancient catacombs… you know… the ones where they have the bodies in the mass graves under the city?”

Another cultist was knocked out of place and the circle’s power diminished further. “Yeah, the Catacombs de Paris? Didn’t know that they did field trips to places like that.” Constantine walked up to Danny and waved his hand over the restraints. The ropes loosened and the teen sat up rubbing the spots where the skin was rubbed raw.

“Yeah, that place! And what did you expect from a school trip for Amity Park students? Our town is literally a portal to hell at this point. Why not see what other creepy places have to offer? We gotta broaden our horizons somehow.” Danny said and wiggled his toes. He ducked his head when a cultist went to grab him and Constantine sent another fireball sending them flying.

“Okay, and how does that lead you to become a sacrifice for your own circle?” Constantine asked once the last cultist was no longer within earshot. He grabbed the kid and started chanting a teleportation spell to get them to a nearby safe haven.

Danny allowed himself to rag doll in the adult's grip with a chuckle. “Oh! Well, apparently I give off a massive death aura when I come into contact with sites that contain a lot of death and tragedy. Some of the culty guys here were able to pick up on that and long story short… I’m posing pretty for you on a cool Gothic table.”

With a brilliant flash of light, the two were transported to the roof of a nearby hotel. Constantine released the boy, who fell to the ground with an ‘uff’, to pull out a cigarette and take a long drag from it. “Do you have any idea what could have happened to you if they had succeeded?”

“Honestly? No. In all of the Infinite Realm's history, there has never been a halfa as king. So there has never been an instance of mistaken identity like this before. However, thanks for the save. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get out of that without revealing who I was and it’s not like I could kill them.” Danny gave a small smile as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. That was a lie. He could kill them easily. But that was a line that he wouldn’t cross if he couldn’t help it.

Constantine remained quiet for a moment. Just allowing himself to finish his cigarette before speaking again. “So do you need me to bring you back to your class or…?”

“Oh no! No no! I don’t think the teachers even noticed I’m gone. So I’ll just pop back into my hotel room.” Twin rings of light washed over Danny as he spoke and he gave the magician a bright smile. “And don’t worry, now that I know this can happen, I’ll have a plan to escape for next time. C’ya later, Constantine!” Turning invisible, Phantom flew off using the GPS in his phone to take him back to his hotel.

Sam and Tuck were going to be so mad about this.

[bri-the-fando-meister]

Girl Of His Dreams, Literally

Female Reader x Minho

Simple summary: You were a girl, the boys didn't expect your feisty attitude because of that, all but one of them at least. He saw you for the 'first' time, he, he recognized you, and you did too. You even knew his name.

------------------------------------------------

You woke in a metal box, scraping of metal pinching your ears with their sharp sound. You looked around your area and saw boxes and bags all labeled with the same word, WICKED.

You weren't scared when the top of your box opened, you wore more intrigued than anything. Light flooded the box, revealing silhouettes of bodies looking at you, craning their necks, surprised by something.

"The actual shuck, you guys seeing what I am" a voice gasped, a boy it sounded like. Multiple other voices said the same thing back to the first boy, "yes."

"What the hell are you weirdo freaks talking about?" you asked, firmly. "Also, get me out of this useless box, I want to see your faces"

One of the boys, most likely the leader jumped into the box. The leader spoke.

"Huh, you're a girl. Never had us a girl greenie before." He pointed out, "Can you remember anything about you? Your name? Where you came from"

"Yeah, I remember my name, a bunch of other stuff too" you looked at a pile of crates, and decided they would make good stairs. "Unfortunately for you my friend, I think our chat here is done."

And with that you swiftly swung your body around the boy and floated up the 'stairs' finding yourself surrounded by multiple boys, at least fifty of them staring at you.

One of them put their hands on your shoulders, holding you from behind. Probably so you didn't try to escape again. "Now why don't you slim it nice and cool, we just want to help you" the boy behind you said, he had a nice smooth and comforting accent.

One grabbed your arm, and you didn't like that.

"Get your bloody hands off of me" you yelled at the one who grabbed your arm. You swung your fist at him, making impact. He let go, yelping in pain.

You were shocked that you had done that, but it's not like the boy didn't deserve it.

The boy who had their hands on your shoulders moved their hands to your wrists, and swiftly pulled them behind your back, so you were unable to inflict more damage to anyone else.

"I thought I told you to calm down, did I not." the boy said.

You struggled to find your voice in the moment, you looked behind you and saw that he was close. "You did, but yet again, I think our chat here is done."

You swung your leg back, aiming for his shins. But he must have known what you were doing and dodged it. "Now, now. I am going to put you in the slammer if you do much more of this klunk. Am I understood?"

"Yes, you are understood. Now what the fuck do you want with me?" You put as much sass into your voice, just to annoy them.

"I am going to let you go now, try anything and my friends here will stop you. We want to ask you a few questions, about what you know." the boy warned.

"Wait, is that boy. M- Minho here? Was he sent to your maze?" you asked, you remembered him, and something about the maze and him being sent you were unsure why you remembered that information, but you just did. "We were friends before he was sent away, to a maze, that's all I can remember"

"You know Minho?", "Shuck, he won't be back for an hour still.", "Is she a spy?" all the boys were muttering to themselves.

You knew this was the moment you could sprint of and hide, while they were distracted. Most were talking to the boy you left in the box, so now was your chance.

You began a sprint, like a run for your life.

Found a tree and swiftly swung yourself through the branches, you were at least 15-20 meters into the air, so you stopped.

You were there for a solid hour, yet none of the boys had come close to finding you.

You had been looking at that big gap in the walls, wondering what was there, and then you saw him. The boy, Minho. He came out of the walls.

You jumped out of the tree, from about 5 meters off of the ground of course. But you horribly judged the distance, you were easily 10 meters off of the ground instead.

Doing this resulted in you screaming as you fell, but hey, you got Minho's attention. Maybe it was because you just fell out of a bloody tree, 10 meters up.

While you were falling, your shirt got snagged on a branch, slowing your fall drastically. Only having gotten a small blow to the head rather than almost definite death you were relieved. You saw the boy and yelled his name before you blacked out "Minho!"

The boy was close when you jumped, so he got to you within a matter of seconds.

"Holy shit, her back is all cut up, and her head is bleeding so much." He didn't even notice that you called his name until the original shock wore off. "How the fuck-"

"Minho, what happened to her?" the boy with the smooth accent asked.

"I don't know, I came through the doors and she jumped out of the tree, she got caught on a branch and continued to fall, then she yelled my name out" Minho said, out of breath and shocked.

"Yeah, we were gonna tell you that the greenie somehow knew your name, and that this place is a maze." The other boy spoke nervously.

"Look, Newt, I don't care what she knows at the moment. What I think we should care about is that she is losing a lot of blood"

"Are you two going to talk like I am not here" you groggily spoke, you were out of it. And you were out of it again as quick as you were back to reality.

"Right, Minho. Can you keep an eye on her, I am getting Clint"

"Fine, but straight after that I need to go to the map room"

The Clint boy arrived with Newt and they had to carry you to the homestead, so your injuries could be treated.

"Ok greenie, I am going to need to do some stitches on your back. The thing is, we can't knock you out, we either have to wait till' you are asleep which isn't a good idea, or we will do it now with you conscious"

"Just do it know, the pain can't get any worse"

A few of the boys held your arms and legs down, one gave you a shirt to bite onto. "Why are you guys holding me?"

"Because it hurts, it hurts a lot. We don't want you flailing around"

You felt the sting of antiseptic dribbling onto your back and your head, both at the same time.

"Great, two things hurting at once. Must be two people doing it" you thought to yourself.

Then came the excruciating feeling of hot metal plunging deep into your skin followed by the sensation of your skin being pulled together. Thankfully there was only one gash on your back that needed 6 stitches.

You were fighting of the urge to fling your arms and legs back and stop the near torturous experience. That only caused more pressure to be forced on your limbs, the boys were practically crushing your arms and legs.

Turns out they wanted to do your back, then your head because only one of the first aiders knew how to do sutures with wounds as deep as yours.

The boy doing your stitches soon moved onto your head, he had to bandage it and stitch it up.

He began to sew your head back together and it was absolutely excruciating, you were happy, it was so painful that you became unconscious.

You awoke to the boys staring at you, your instinct told you to run away but the boys obviously knew because you still felt hands on your arms.

"Sooo, can I like, go now?"

"Sorry but we can't let you, nobody can go, and we need to ask you a few questions - How do you know Minho? Where did you come from? Minho says he recognizes you."

"Newt, stop. Let me talk to her. I think she is scared of you"

"Hey there, how you feeling?" Minho spoke so softly as not to scare you. "I know you know me, and I recognize you, I get these dreams, and you are in them. Is, is your name Y/n?"

"Yes Minho, I am so glad you remember me. I, I got picked, they chose me. I wasn't scared, and I managed to remember you, and them I remember WICKED. We will get out in due time, but I can't speak anymore."

"Why Y/n? Why can't you speak?"

"It's the beetle blades, and the elites. They are listening to EVERYTHING."

------------------------------------------------

I might make a part 2, in all due time, I have like 10 different ideas for plots floating through my head. This one has been in my drafts for weeks so, I kinda had to get it done. Sorry for ending on a cliffhanger too, I want people to sit there and imagine what would happen next.