#these guys all suck i hope they die. i say lying

[remynisce]

Sure yeah I'll crosspost all my pjeg drawings over here from twitter

[wendichester]

hi hi :) !!

so i just finished season 6 (for like the 100th time) and listened to “we hug now” by sydney rose (sobs).

i was wondering if maybe you could write an angsty castiel x fem reader fic where it’s first set in the scene when the guys trap cas in the holy oil ring, confronting him about working with crowley.

obviously reader just has to be in love with cas (he loves her too, maybe both have even freshly entered a relationship or maybe have just confessed they’re in love with each other?).

then after the initial scene it goes to when they’re all in that lab after everything goes wrong for cas and he asks for the guys help in returning the souls to purgatory. obviously reader is still mad at cas about the whole “working with the king of hell after he tried to kill us and becoming the new god only for things to go wrong even after everyone told him there was another way. oh and when you broke the wall in sam’s head separating his memories of being tortured in hell by lucifer and michael plus when he was soulless too”, yet she still holds a soft spot for him.

the cherry on top of the anguish filled fic is when the reader immediately runs to cas after he falls when the souls exit his body, she’s freaking out because they all think he’s dead. full on crying and pleading for him to open his eyes, and when he does she kisses him for the first time.

then BOOM, the leviathans take over his body.

just to add salt to the wound, reader could be a winchester!! older sister perchance, making the whole thing hurt more.

whew, i was not expecting for the request to be this long but my brain wouldn’t stop picking at the most angst possible moments. if you don’t wanna write anything like this then it’s okay!! just thought it could be a possible fic! i would write it myself but i absolutely suck at writing :’)

˚｡⋆࣪ ִֶָ☾. no time to die,

summary. castiel's made a series of bad decisions. and it might be impossible to turn back now.

pairing. castiel x winchester!reader genre. angst!

wordcount. 628

notes. thank you so much for requesting bubs! i hope i was able to do your idea justice ehe 🩷

The flames of the holy oil flicker between you and Castiel, their glow reflecting in his deep, unreadable blue eyes. He stands there, trapped, betrayed by his own actions. And yet, he still looks at you like he’s sorry. Like he’s scared.

But that’s not enough.

“How could you?” Your voice shakes, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “Working with Crowley? Lying to us? Lying to me?”

Castiel’s expression wavers, something breaking behind his eyes. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Yeah? Well, you did.”

You barely hear Sam and Dean speaking, the room closing in as your chest tightens. Just days ago, you had whispered to Castiel that you loved him, and he had whispered it back. You had believed in him, trusted him with everything—your heart, your family, your life.

And he chose this.

“You don’t understand,” Castiel pleads, stepping closer to the edge of the flames. “I did this for you. For all of you.”

“No, Cas.” Your voice is quieter now, but no less cutting. “You did this for yourself.”

--

The lab is eerily silent except for the distant sounds of dripping water and flickering electricity. Castiel is dying. His body is coming apart at the seams, the weight of the souls inside him tearing him apart.

You stand back, arms crossed tightly over your chest. Your anger still lingers, simmering beneath your grief.

You should hate him for this.

You should walk away, let him deal with the consequences of his own recklessness.

But you can’t.

You watch him sway, sweat beading at his temple, his breaths uneven. His eyes find yours across the room, and for a second, something raw and desperate flickers in them. Help me, they plead, even if his lips don’t say the words.

Dean’s jaw clenches, but he nods. Sam shifts beside you, hesitant but resigned. And then Castiel speaks. “I—I don’t know if I can fix this.”

“You’re going to try,” you bite out, stepping closer. “You owe us that much.”

His eyes soften as he looks at you, as if he can hear what you’re not saying. You owe me that much.

He swallows hard. “I’m sorry.”

You force yourself to hold onto your anger, to not let his regret sink into your bones. But when Castiel reaches out, fingers trembling, and places his hand over yours, you let him.

--

The explosion of energy is blinding. The souls rush out of Castiel like a tidal wave, screaming as they rip through the air, disappearing into the void. You shield your face, heart slamming against your ribs.

Then—

Silence.

And Castiel falls.

You don’t even think. You run, dropping to your knees beside him, hands grasping at his face, his shoulders, anything. His skin is too pale, his lips slightly parted, his chest unmoving.

“Cas?” Your voice cracks, panic surging. “Hey—hey, wake up, okay? Wake up.”

Nothing.

Tears burn down your cheeks. You shake him, press your forehead to his, whispering pleas against his cooling skin. “Please, Cas. You can’t—You can’t just leave me. I love you. Please.”

A shuddering breath, then—

A gasp.

His eyes flutter open, dazed and glassy, but alive.

A sob escapes you, and before you can think, before you can stop yourself, you press your lips to his.

It’s desperate, broken, but so full of relief it almost hurts. His hands weakly grasp your arms, grounding himself against you as you kiss him like he’s the most precious thing in the world—because to you, he is.

But then—

A sudden, unnatural stillness. A sharp inhale that’s wrong. His hands tighten, nails digging into your skin, and when he pulls back, his eyes are black.

Your breath catches.

“No—”

But it’s too late.

Castiel is gone.

The Leviathans have taken him.

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[writeformesinpie]

Brand 

Jay x Fem!Reader 

Summary - You went out with the girls and left Jay at home to come up with all kinds of ideas of what you’ve really been up to. 

Genre - Yandere 

Warnings - Suggestive, yandere themes, possessiveness, jealousy, being a little rough, 

Word Count - .7k

A/N - This is part of the 2k follower event from this request. I hope you like it and thank you so much for the request! <3

“You’re late,” calls his voice from within the dark.

“It’s only 1:30,” you say, black stilettos dangling from your fingers as you lock the door behind you. Stumbling in the dark you feel for the empty cubby by the entryway and shove your shoes inside. Switching on the light as you walk into the living room you glance around the empty room until your gaze lands on Jay. “You’re the one who didn’t want to go.”

“And hang out with all your idiotic friends? I can think of a hundred better uses of my time,” he says as he follows your every movement like a hawk, his relaxed position in direct opposition from the look in his eyes. “You said you’d be back before midnight.”

“Well,” you start with a shrug, “we ended up going to the club.”

“Oh? You did?”

“Yeah, it was so much fun.” Ignoring his stiff tone you continue, “well, it’s probably best you didn’t go anyway.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, yeah. I mean you would have been bored.”

“At the club?”

“I mean, like you said, it's not really your scene. Plus you would have been the only guy there since it was just the girls. I didn’t realise at the time but I guess we weren’t supposed to invite any guys. It was meant to be a girls night. So just the girls. There weren't any guys there or anything like that.” The words spew out from your lips at a wicked speed and you wonder if you’ll ever shut up. Why can’t you shut up! “Well, I mean obviously there were men there. I mean we were in public. But no one actually invited anyone. Actually it was a funny story because we actually ran into a few guys that we knew…”

The words die on your lips as you look over at Jay. Tight-lipped smile, clenched jaw, balled fists. There’s practically steam erupting from his pores. Swallowing you take a step back, pulling down on the hem of your dress. Your eyes drift towards the stairs.

“Well, I’m beat. I should head to…” You motion towards the bedroom with your head as you ease your way back to the hall.

“Did I give you permission to leave?”

You scrunch up your face. Is he serious? “Permission?”

“Did I stutter?” He’s on his feet and beside you within two wide strides. “Did you think I would let you wash away the evidence?”

“Evidence?” you yelp as his cool fingers circle your wrist, pulling you down the corridor towards the bedroom. “What are you talking about? Jay? Jay!”

He doesn’t answer, instead throwing you down on the canopy-style bed with enough force to make you bounce. Before you have a moment to adjust to your new surroundings he’s pinning you underneath him, his hands on either side of your face, his body flush against yours.

“Do I need to mark you? To burn my brand into your skin so no one will touch what isn’t theirs?”

“No one touched–”

His lips crash against yours with frenzied need, each kiss harder than the last. His tongue claims yours as his hands explore your body, slipping the tiny material of your dress from your shoulders. Nimble fingers make haste of the dress, quickly forgotten somewhere on the floor. He moans, sucking on your tongue and tangles his fingers up in your hair as his hips grind against yours.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you pull him closer, squirming under his touch. Heat spreads out across your skin as your hands find his belt. He leans back and grabs your wrist, pulling your fingers to his lips and kisses each one in succession before he looks back down at you, a dark glint of warning lurking within.

“I’ll check every inch of you and if you’re lying to me I really will brand you. I’ll mark you so deeply that no one will want what’s left.”

[evilminji]

Gold can be exchanged for goods and services (o.o )

Pariah's Keep probably has a shit ton of Precious Goods from various places.

Danny is become King?

If Danny becomes King... then the Zone will somewhat obey him. The Crown and Ring could EASILY tell him where the next natural portal is, where it opens up, and for how long. How many there are. Could probably make a few.

Probably WAS supposed to be making them. Consciously. But, well, Coma(tm).

Would probably count as Kingly Duty to filter and collect. Clean Ecto goes out for souls that remain, a Gateway home for those that wish to LEAVE, so forth and so on.

Effectively, being The Grim Reaper. You don't CAUSE Death. You just guide the way home. If folks so choose.

And that's neat! Horrifying, but neat! And Danny can TOTALLY see how it would eventually drive him completely breakfast cereal fruity nuggets! LUCKILY, he's got a vaguely bro's/Mentor thing going with the ghost who has ALL OF POSSIBLE TIME flowing through HIS head! So Danny should be Gucci!

The headaches suck though.

But WHAT... to do with all this Gold and valuable Space Goods? Most of these aren't even recognized currency on earth! Like the Shells. You could buy a mansion with one of those... on the right planet. On Earth? Pretty paperweight. Hmmmm >.>

Wait.

WAIT!

<o> *points to top of head!* CROWN! It can? Predict and make PORTALS!

Portals lead any WHERE and any WHEN!

:O

Gold... can be exchanged for goods and services. He remembers, holding a gold brick, about to eat so, SO much pizza.

But WAIT! I hear you wondering! Surely, you mean? Within his past? The history and region of space he knows, right? Ha ha :) Nope! Cowards.

Danny is on the alien otter's planet, trading those sweet, sweet Shells for some snacks no human could eat and a shawl for his sister! He's hiding, badly, behind a food stall in the Martian market place. Hoping future hero J'onn Johnes doesn't notice him.

Lying to the Space Cops, bout where his untraceable Space Money came from, on an alien trading satellite. The Green Lantern's not buying it. Oh noooo >.> sudden Fright Knight. Looming Menacingly by the loading doooocks. Everyone's upset! Definitely not related to him! Better go check on that! :) *gets the heck out of dodge* (my king. Please stop using me as a distraction.) (No promises)

But! It's all fun and games? Until your human friends get sick. Like... REALLY sick.

And then you suddenly remember time and space mean nothing to you. One 15 minute flight that way, two doors, a quick flight of stairs, and a literal child's play place slide? You could be in the 32nd century.

That disease is AT BEST, an unpleasant afternoon, there.

Here, your friend could die.

You trade a student two Spanish dubloons. They have no idea what they are. Just like the look of them and know they're real metal. They walk into the pharmacy for you. Don't question your "social experiment paper" lie.

You're back in less then an hour.

The screaming argument about ethics and mortality lasts hours.

She still takes the medicine. Gets better. Won't talk to you for months. Because why does HER life matter more? Why bend the rules for HER? And you can't bring yourself to say what pulses as Truth from both Crown and Ring.

You could because she didn't Matter. Time... would not notice, nor change. She was in no way pivotal to the flow of history, must one more ant beneath its unrelenting march. Mattering only because those who love her CARE. Because one or two little things might change for the better.

But it takes the shine off of it, a little.

Being able to go to the FUTURE. Watch movies and see aliens and humans alike in the crowd. Read books and dance to songs from people who won't be born for hundreds of years. Eat snacks from the farthest reaches of the cosmos. Or the early BCs!

And that's BEFORE other time travelers clock him as That Shopping Guy. The one who keeps popping up... buying things. For what? Unknown. Probably dinner. Half the time it's food. Trinkets. Once it was a really, REALLY nice goat. (His aunt was THRILLED.)

It probably drives Bart crazy. Because NO ONE knows anything about the guy? Everyone just universally goes "oooh yeah! HIM! Yeah, he sure does Exsist(tm). Very... present and exsistant." Like that's not CRAZY! He has so many question. So Many! What is he even BUYING!? Why? Is there an order? Or is he winging it?!

*pulls out list* he needs ANSWERS!

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight

[fandoms--fluff]

Hope Mikaelson with a fem!reader that is the last siren alive and have hydrokinesis

splash

Flufftober, October 9th

Female siren reader x Hope Mikaelson

Warnings: none

A/n: For anyone who may or may not know what hydrokinesis is, as I did, it's the power of water manipulation and controlling it.

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

As you sit on a rock by the falls, you create a spiral of water and make it float in the air. You need some time away from the school.

Everyone found out about you being a siren, thankfully nothing about your hydrokinesis, but it really sucked. Especially since Alaric is quite literally making it his personal mission to make your life a living hell over the past week since it was revealed. Apparently for 'lying' about your specie type even though he never asked you and just assumed you were a witch.

He obviously didn't think there were any sirens left alive after Sybil and Selene. Which he definitely didn't appreciate you bringing that up when he went off at you, yelling about how you were a 'disgrace'.

The only person you told about yourself was Hope, your girlfriend. She'd been away in New Orleans with her family when it happened and she's still there.

At least that's what you thought until you heard the sounds of footsteps, someone's walking up behind you. You turn around, letting the water water back into the river from the air.

You let out a sigh of relief when you see it's Hope. You jump down from the rock and walk into her open arms. She wraps her arms around you tightly as you cling to her. You bask in her warmth. Finally someone who's not staring at you as if you were missing your head.

You breathe in her scent of floral perfume and tropical shampoo. "I missed you" You mumble into her neck. "I missed you too." She squeezes you before pulling away slowly.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when it all happened" She holds your hands in her own. Josie filled her in on what happened when she got back to the school this morning.

She was shocked you hadn't phoned or texted her about it. Honestly, she does get why you hadn't, it must've been really overwhelming and you didn't want to bother her. She's been trying to slowly get you to open up to her, it's a working progress.

She had been searching the entire school for you until she realized where you'd obviously be. Your favorite place in Mystic Falls, the falls. You took her there on your guys' date when you told her about your powers and about being a siren.

"It's alright, I didn't I want to bother you. You don't get much time with your family" You muster up a soft smile. "Well, it isn't everyday your girlfriend's secret is exposed. At least half exposed." She tells you.

"Who told you?" You sigh, you really didn't want Hope to feel sorry for you. "Josie did. And I don't want you to think I'm just doing this because I feel sorry for you" She tells you.

You snap your eyes back up from gazing at her hair, "How'd you, what, can you read minds?" You try not to stutter.

"You have that look in your eyes" Hope tells you and brings your right hand up, placing a kiss to it. You tilt your head in a questioning way. "What?" Her eyebrows furrow.

"I'm trying to figure out if you're a robot or not" You tell her with no joke in your voice. "Ahuh, very funny" Hope chuckles before leading you over to the water.

"How are you, really?" She links her arm with yours. It takes you a moment to gather your thoughts while watching the water fall.

"I'm not saying I'm okay, but it will be. I know it will be. I just need to wait for everything to die down at the school." You explain softly to her as birds chirp in the background.

"Thank you for being honest with me" She rests her head against your shoulder. "Of course. You know I don't try to lie to you, right?" You ask her in a quiet voice, almost whisper.

"Yes, I do, Babe. I know you don't" She holds onto your arm. "Good. So you'll forgive me this then" A mischief glint appears in your eyes, not that your girlfriend can see.

"What are you talking about- hey!" She exclaims when you pick her up and then run into the river, splashing both of you into the cold water. "Oh, I am so gonna kill you!" She splashes water towards you after you drop her in front of you (safely, don't worry).

"You're gonna have to catch me first" You smirk and dive into the water, swimming deeper into the river. "You're on" She chuckles and swims after you.

She shreds the water out of her way as she tries keeping up with you. Though, she realizes it's basically useless. You slow your pace down and stop, turning around to take pity on your tribrid girlfriend.

"You okay, Baby?" You stifle your chuckle at your panting girlfriend as she slowly crawls her way over to you.

"Okay, no fair, you're basically a mermaid" She pants, wrapping her arms around your neck, and legs around your torso to hold herself up in the water.

"And I just realized how out of shape I am" She lets out a massive puff of breath. "Oh, please, if you're out of shape, then I'm a pirate" you raise an eyebrow, making her laugh.

She then takes in your appearance, your eyes look so beautiful and your wet hair makes you look gorgeous with how it falls down by your face.

Before she knows it, she leans in and passionately kisses you. You wrap your arms around her waist as your kiss your girlfriend back. She whines when you pull away. "Why?" She pouts to you.

"I'm sorry, Baby, it's getting late, we should probably be heading back to the circus ring" you tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear.

She looks down at your guys' clothing, she then pauses. "We're soaking wet" She states. "Yes we are" a smile quirks at your lips.

"We're soaking wet in our clothing." She tells you, her eyes widened. "It's alright, I promise you we can snuggle all night" You promise as you start to walk out of the body of water.

You carry her all the way out of the water to the giant rock you we're resting upon earlier. "I'm gonna hold you to it" She mumbles as she's set down back on the ground.

"I don't doubt it" You wrap an arm around her shoulder.

When you notice Hope shivering, you raise your hand and all the water raises from both your bodies, hair, and clothing. And then swish them back into the river.

"There, a little bit warmer" You kiss her cheek.

[fadeling]

if it were up to me i could fix the alistair companion quest. i mean most people probably could but i definitely would. here's my pitch:

so alistair is a guy who is actually pretty even-keeled throughout the story, although undeniable that he's idealist and naive. the thing that makes him cool is that hes not simply a bumbling fool covering it up with desperate attempts at sarcasm, he knows his own weaknesses and his sardonic attitude lampshades that while also letting you in on the joke. hes always aware of the fact that hes like if a failgirl was a boy and instead of trying to fight against that impression, he shrugs his shoulders and lets it happen. he lives in a terrible world in a faction that exposes him to The Horrors, so he has to operate on a casual, malleable attitude even if that isn't really true to his heart

that discrepancy makes him confused, conflicted, and most of all: extremely vulnerable to moments of extreme genuineness. (his romance works much in the same vein i think) the way his personal quest starts in the game is actually perfect for showing that about him. he gets ahead of himself, he lets his hopes become known and it's obvious how much he wants to Try even if he understands why the warden may reject him. if the warden accepts, it reinforces him getting his hopes up and he unknowingly feels a bit safer in letting hid idealism just exist for a bit

it's for these reasons that i actually wouldnt change how it starts or the way it's initially presented. i'm even going to keep the fact that he thinks hes the son of a maid and has a sister, because thats what eamon told him and i'm sure it was reinforced by duncan too. i dont think it's a problem for alistair to be wrong about his lineage, but something needs to be done about that

so you arrive at goldanna's house (she would also be given a name that isnt fucking stupid btw) and she's not in a great mood because shes busy and these strangers just kind of demanded her attention to talk about he's her brother when it turns out her mother never died during childbirth at all. she worked at redcliffe's manor but she like, left, man. she did die but that that was a few years later and its actually really annoying that i have to talk about it to two strangers.

her rudeness would be more justified because shes just trying to live her life but this guy has to show up at her door and hallucinate a backstory and promptly get his whole world flipped upside down. it's not really something she had the mental capacity for she just wanted to do the laundry.

NOW this would mean that alistair went into this hoping to gain something, but actually lost more than what he started with. losing the ideal domestic family dynamic stings, sure, but the strongest familial ties he had in the first place were with eamon (a little bit) and ESPECIALLY duncan. now he has good reason to doubt both of them, one of them being especially difficult because it's tangled in so much grief too.

alistair takes a chance on something, finally sticks his neck out, and then he gets hurt. the warden can help him process that in a few different ways; you could coddle him by insisting she sucks and was probably lying anyway, or you could encourage him to acknowledge the truth and still persist anyway. there could even be the asshole third option where you tell him that hes too cringe to live idk. there could even be more things to say, the point is that the sentiment of the warden would accurately reflect how his attitude changes when hes hardened thats all

also theres a bonus opportunity for adding another layer of drama between him and eamon with very little extra effort, and thats always good

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

Blurb Countdown To Daredevil: Born Again

8 Days: The Great War - Taylor Swift "it turned into something bigger/somewhere in the haze, got a sense i'd been betrayed." SFW/Angst Matt tells you he's Daredevil. notes: omg guys 8 days!!! this one was sooo much fun and im actually super proud of it. i hope ya like it :) countdown masterlist

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Your brain twists and warps, trying to make sense of it all.

For months, you’ve been insecure about your relationship with Matt, always worrying about his long hours, his bruises and scars, and worrying about the fact that sometimes you’d wake up and he wouldn’t be in bed.

He wouldn’t even be in the apartment. At three a.m.

“I know it’s a lot—”

“A lot?! My boyfriend sneaks out of our apartment to beat up random assholes in tights!”

“I don’t…I don’t wear—”

“I don’t give a fuck!” Then you breath for a second, thinking—“So, are you actually blind or were you just lying about that too?”

Matt sucks in a sharp breath. Your question is valid, but just for a moment, he’s annoyed by it, but even that emotion is immediately followed by guilt. He’s the one who’s lied to you for months, but he’s annoyed?

“No, I am blind,” he starts, “I just have heightened senses. I can—I can hear people’s heartbeats, tell what they’ve eaten..”

You’ve always wondered how a blind man’s known exactly how to go down on you. You chalked it up to practice.

“I can’t believe you,” You answer breathlessly, tears welling in your eyes, “You feel the need to hide that you have heightened senses, that you’re this superhero—”

“It’s more like, vigilante—”

“Shut up!” You snap.  “You want to hide your senses, this double life? Fine,” Your voice is full of venom, “But you lied to me, you—” You sucked in a deep breath. “You let me think you were out cheating on me or doing horrible things, and you just.. said nothing? What was going to happen if I found out? Or—Fuck, Matt, god forbid you get really hurt or you—Or you die, what was going to happen then? I was just supposed to wait for the man I love to never come home?”

Your heart breaks with betrayal, your mind swirling. What else could he be hiding from you?

Who else knew? Were Foggy and Karen always looking at you with pitying glances when you weren’t looking, asking themselves, “That poor thing, don’t they know they’re being played for a fool?”

And how horrible is the invasion of privacy, of hearing your heartbeat, knowing you’re on your period, always being able to track you, or—

“What are you thinking about?” Matt wonders, after a long moment of silence.

“Nothing.” You snap.

“I can tell when you’re lying. When.. anyone is lying.” You scoff, wiping tears with the ball of your palm, quickly, as if they’re an admission of your own guilt—And you realize Matt can tell.

“I’m horrified.” You respond. “I’m horrified that someone I love—Someone I need so desperately and deeply would lie to me like this for months.”

Matt, a genuinely desperate man, kneels next to the armchair where you sit. His hands find yours, clutching them tightly.

“I’m so sorry for lying to you,” He starts, “I just didn’t want you to get hurt, or tangled in all this.. All I’ve ever wanted to do is help you, help this city, deliver justice..” He sighs. “I wanted to help the people who have no one else to help them. I wasn’t even planning on a relationship, I thought it just wasn’t in the cards for me.” He squeezes your hands, “But you just.. crept up on me, and before I knew it, I couldn’t live without you.” He confesses.

What are you supposed to say to that?

“I think we need to spend some time apart.”

Matt’s face falls as if you’re the one who’s betrayed him.

“Wait, just,” He breathes, mind racing to find a defense.

“No.” You say softly, but firmly. “If you won’t leave I will. Please, Matt..” You whimper.

Matt nods, ignoring the tears that fall down his face. He stands up and leans in, kissing your forehead. He grabs his jacket and keys as he makes his way to the door. He has to leave before you start sobbing. He won’t be able to listen to your sobbing without trying to help you.

[nats-revival]

ditto — e. williams

!! PLEASE READ BEFORE INTERACTING !! - Its still imperative that you do anything you can to support Palestine. You can help by doing your daily click, or reviewing this masterlist. You can also help by not buying TLOU, and here’s why.

aestras notes: WOOOOO GUESS WHO FINALLY DROPPED??? THIS GUY!!!!!! 😝😝😝 tried something new for the banner this time, i think it looks okay. 🙂‍↕️ anyways!!! everyone thank @softlysunrays for encouraging me yawp yawp!!!!

tags: loser!ellie, theatre kid!dina agenda, modern au sorta?, i suck at tagging a year later, ellie is a nervous wreck, italics indicate internal monologue (most of the time), fluff(?), one small use of y/n, okay that’s it i think

Ellie might’ve had a little thing for you — probably more than just a little thing, because you’d occupy most of the space in her brain 99% of the time. And she was, unceremoniously, an incredibly big loser. She never speaks to you directly, instead stealing glances at you during passing periods or watching you from afar whenever you’d been hanging out with your other friends. 

The hallways always seemed to be cramped and crowded, but not crowded enough that she couldn’t see you. Something about you made her always recognize it was you. 

Standing at her locker, she’d been joined by Dina as she’d been grabbing some things from her backpack. The hallways were bustling with chatter and bodies, but it seemed to only be them right now.

Dina looks at Ellie as her locker shuts with a small smirk. “I saw you staring at her again.” She teases. “You’ve got it bad!” Dina pokes her softly. She sings a cheesy love song, to which Ellie groans and puts a hand on her forehead. “You’re gonna make me die of embarrassment.” She mumbles.

Dina laughs at her, putting an arm over her shoulders. “Look at you, all grown up and having a little crush.” She says theatrically, wiping fake tears. Ellie chuckles to herself as she looks down at her canvas sneakers. 

“Yknow, I could introduce you to her.” Dina mentions without much thought. If Ellie had water in her mouth, she would’ve spit it out dramatically. She stands as stiff as a board as she turns to look at Dina. “Really? I mean — you’re serious? Like 100%?” Ellie seemed excited, but god was she nervous at the thought. 

“Yeah, totally! You can sprinkle your little loser dust on her in hopes that you absolutely woo her.” Dina throws her head back dramatically with the back of her hand on her forehead. The pair chuckle slightly at Dina’s antics.

Ellie still couldn’t believe that Dina knew her. Like, a majorly pretty girl? “Pinch me.” Ellie says, clearly in some state of disbelief. “I think I’m dreaming.” Dina pinches her on the cheek and she smiles. “You’re awake, Ellie! It’s me — Dina in the flesh!” Dina smiles at her.

“Dina, I’ve been like, dreaming of this since school started. I will come to your house later. Just please don’t be lying about this.” Ellie did dream about you a lot, and she always wished she didn’t wake up before the good parts. But she always did, so she woke up sulking all morning.

Even when the passing period had ended, she couldn’t stop creating scenarios about the two of you in her head. Well, the two of you and Dina. Cause she’d be there too. Ellie would feel bad to leave her out.

She knew that this was super cliche but she liked how cliche it was in some odd way. 

She was staring out of a window with her earphone in, tapping her gnawed up pencil against a wooden desk as she listened to songs that reminded her of you.

Which was, obviously, most of the music she’d ever listen to now because she was just that in love with you. She had it bad. Super bad. Actually, no word could describe it.

Once she started dreaming about you, she knew she was doomed. Even more so now that she’ll actually talk to you.

The anxiety of meeting a pretty girl like you sets in. What if she thinks I’m too weird? But she’s friends with Dina.. maybe it’ll be okay. This is so stupid. God, just focus on her! Her internal monologue was a flurry of ‘you got this’ and ‘don’t be a total loser’.

All of that literally goes out the window the second she makes it to Dina’s house.

As usual, Dina’s home was cluttered but homey, and the walls were covered with Dina in various grades performing in school musicals. Ride The Cyclone, Heathers, all that kinda stuff that she has little to no knowledge of.

“She’s waiting in my room — and stand up straight or something. Body language is important.” Dina says, leading her up the creaky stairs. Ellie almost didn’t hear what Dina was saying as they got closer to her room.

She’s in there! Right there! She thought, a smile creeping onto her face. The door of Dina’s room swings open and there you were, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“This is who I was telling you about! Y/N, this is Ellie. Ellie, Y/N.” Dina smiles at both of you brightly. “Hi!” Ellie blurts out, her voice cracking slightly. She instantly feels embarrassed and clears her throat. “Hello. How are you?” She attempts to reapproach the conversation, but when she saw that you’d been already chuckling and smiling, all her affirmations were lost to her.

“I’m fine. And you?” You asked, smiling at her. “I’m.. I’m good. Totally chilling right now, yeah.” Ellie rambles nervously. 

She kinda just stands there awkwardly until she thinks about another question. “How’d you uh, meet Dina?” She asks, rocking back and forth awkwardly on her heels. “We’re in the same theater class. And you,” 

You point at her. “You’ve known her since like, forever, right?” She says to Dina, eliciting a soft hum from the girl. You smile at Dina. “I’ll leave you two alone for a while.” 

Upon hearing that, Ellie snaps her head around to look at Dina. Her eyes scream “don’t leave me here”. Dina smiles remorsefully before leaving the room.

So now it was just Ellie and you. Staring at eachother while birds chirped softly in the distance. Ellie smiles awkwardly. You chuckle at her. “Are you usually this nervous?” You ask, tilting your head to the side slightly.

“..Yes, but not really?” Ellie would never in a million years admit the big fat crush she had on you, not now that you were sitting infront of her. “Well, I’m not gonna like, eat you or anything. You don’t have to be so nervous.”

“That’s easier said than done when you’re that pretty.” Ellie mumbled to herself. “What was that you said? You think I’m pretty?” You ask, smiling brightly. When she realizes you’d heard that part, she becomes incredibly flustered. She smashes her face into the palms of her hands as her cheeks become flushed. 

“I’m truly flattered! It means a lot coming from another pretty girl.” Ellie stood breathing for a moment. She thinks I’m pretty? She thinks I’m pretty?! She truly wants to jump for joy but she doesn’t. Instead she just stares at you.

Once you stand up and start walking towards her, she gets even more nervous because you smell like heaven. “I think we should get to know eachother more.” You suggest as you look at her. “I’ll give you my number.”

“Your number?” She blurts, excitement underlying her tone. “Yeah! It’s no biggie.” You say as you reach for your phone that was previously on the charger.

When you both eventually exchanged numbers, Ellie was staring at your contact in awe. Maybe you were talking to her but she was in her own little world.

She’d finally done it — talked to the girl she’d had a crush on literally all year. And somehow pulled it off enough to get her number.

Has Ellie wooed you? She didn’t know. Were you definitely looking forward to talking to her? Hell yeah you were.

“So I guess I’ll talk to you very soon then?” You raise an eyebrow at her with a smile on your face. Very soon? That could mean tonight! “Yeah, yeah totally. Call me whenever. I’m always free, yknow, never busy.” Ellie said, forming an awkward smile.

I basically just told her I have no hobbies or many friends! How charming is that? Way to go, Ellie. She internally cringes at herself. “Good to know. Bye Ellie.” You wave at her before leaving Dina’s room.

The door shuts and Dina runs up the stairs. “Oh she’s definitely into you.” She exclaims, holding Ellie’s hands. “I’m proud of you for putting your big girl pants on.” Ellie looks at Dina with a stupid smile. “She’s into me.” She mumbled with a starstruck expression. “She’s into me!” She repeats, smiling. I really hope that’s true. She thinks excitedly, squeezing Dina’s hands while looking at her.

[brayneworms]

gouge away (if you want to) | johnny joestar

kinktober day ten: kissing

word count. 2.4k

content. disabled johnny, but like his prostate works, anal fingering, prostate orgasm, kissing, johnny cries after sex it's canon, gender-neutral reader, fluff, mentions of ableism, established relationship, this is sappy

♪ gouge away - pixies

kinktober mlist | regular mlist

For a while—a long while—after his accident, Johnny thought he'd never be with someone again.

A part of it was the paralysis. Okay, a big part of it was. He learns after using the chair for a bit that he sorta stops becoming a real person to most people, that their eyes just sorta slide past him. Oh no, how sad, that guy in the chair must have it so bad. Don't be rude and stare, now. Sometimes he wishes they would stare at him, like he knows they wanna. He almost finds their determination to ignore him totally more jarring.

And that's only half the problem. The other part is that even if he could find someone, his goddamn dick doesn't work anymore. Which would for sure pose a problem. So Johnny resigns himself miserably to a sexless and potentially loveless life, and pretends it doesn't make him want to die.

Still. Anyways. It all seems kinda redundant now, 'cause he's lying under the sky in the dirt with his pants halfway off, and you're—you're doing something, or you're tryin' something that Johnny is extremely skeptical about. A bit of time travelling with Gyro had taught him many times that there was a lot of things about the human body he was ignorant of, but he still can't help but be dubious of the claim you made to him a few minutes ago.

I'm gonna make you cum.

At once, a protest had risen to his lips. You can't. Almost a reflex. You'd cocked your head in inquiry, and Johnny had gone redder, down to the tips of his ears hidden by his hat. It's my—it doesn't work. Down there doesn't...

You seem to consider this for a few moments. Then you say, there's something else we can try.

You disappear inside the tent and come out with the bottle of aloe vera they'd been using to treat the burns that had blistered as a result of the unforgiving desert sun. He had red peeling skin all up his shoulders and the bridge of his nose.

He watches dubiously as you squeeze a clear, cold glob onto your fingers. "Wh—where are those goin'?"

He's pretty sure he has an idea.

"You know what a prostate is, Johnny dear?" You always call him that. Johnny dear, like it's all one word. Johnnydear. He always gripes and groans about it and then has to turn away extremely quickly to hide his flush. He's going to examine the reaction he gets when you baby him sometime, he promises himself, just not right now. He's got a lotta shit on his plate, okay? Corpses to find and such.

"N-no," he answers, stammering when you kneel between his legs and spread his thighs gently apart. He sucks in a breath; one of your fingers leaves a cool trail of aloe along the skin there.

"A prostate," you tell him patiently, like you're not situated between his naked thighs, "is a gland that people with your particular reproductory set are born with."

"You sound like Gyro," he mutters. "Kinda killing the mood a little."

"I just want to make sure you're fully informed." You roll your eyes. "It's just that you're leaking precum, see?" To his mortification, you swipe your fingers over the tip of the dick he can't feel and hold them up; under the starlight, they gleam, and he burns with embarrassment. "Means you might be able to feel it. Means I might be able to make you cum."

Johnny swallows hard. He wants—it sounds good. Sounds great. But with the hope comes that fear, an ever-present shadow. What if it doesn't work?

"Hey." You lean over him, and before Johnny can protest you've captured his lips, a slow, deliberate cling. Johnny loves kissing you. He thinks it might be his favourite thing to do, other than jockeying and he can't do that anymore, so this takes an automatic first place. He sighs and melts against you like softened butter, his hands winding themselves over your shoulder and jaw. He loves everything about it. The closeness, the slow gentle intimacy, the way you smell. That last part is probably weird, 'cause you mostly smell like sweat and leather, but Johnny likes it all the same.

You kiss for a while; one of your hand strokes soothing shapes into his ribcage. When you pull back, the panic that had been rearing up inside him has faded to a dull murmur.

"Don't get in your head about it," you whisper. "If you can't feel it, then that's that. You know I won't think less of you."

A lump rises in Johnny's throat, and he shields his eyes from the burning sun of you seein' right through him. "I know," he says, almost petulantly.

"So? Wanna give it a try?"

A part of him doesn't. A part of him is so, so scared. But a bigger part of him, the one that likes kissing you and likes the way you smell and the way you touch him and look at him and everything, really, is nodding before that first part can protest. You kiss him again with a smile, a little faster, a little dirtier this time. This is another thing Johnny likes about kissing—it can take so many different forms. Even if he did find the corpse pieces and get the use of his legs back, Johnny reckons he'd still like kissing more than real sex.

Your mouth starts moving down, sweeping the sensitive skin of his neck and collarbones, the valleys of his pectorals, a nipple. The last one makes Johnny gasp and you giggle, and he splays a palm over his face in embarrassment. You coax such stupid noises outta him. But you seem to enjoy it, so whatever.

Down, down, down. Somewhere between his navel and his pubic bone he stops feeling it. But it still somehow feels sorta nice, which doesn't make a whole lotta sense but it does to him, so. He watches you between his fingers as you reach between his legs, he thinks prodding.

You look up at him. "I'm going to put a finger in, okay?"

Johnny nods eagerly. "Don't gotta tell me. I won't feel it."

You roll your eyes. "I'm still gonna tell you. We can stop whenever, okay?"

"Okay," Johnny says impatiently, and wiggles his hips. You smack his hipbone playfully, which does nothing to temper his brattiness on account of him not feelin' a fuckin' thing. Then you get a quiet, serious, concentrated look on your face that Johnny usually only sees when you're fighting. Or when he's making you cum. That expression, more than any of your words or hesitation, it what makes him quiet down and take it serious.

There's a silence that stretches on. Johnny supposes you must be doin' something, considering the slight furrow he can see between your brows and the achingly careful, gradual movement of your wrist. Finally, after about a minute, you look up at him.

"My finger's in," you tell him, and Johnny bites his lip.

"Can't feel it," he says. He's starting to think this was a really bad idea.

"Just lemme—hold on," you say, and your wrist moves a little, and then—

Johnny keens. He feels, he fuckin' feels so much that it lights him up from the inside and sets his nerves alight, some part deep inside him that he didn't even know existed 'till five minutes ago and it's so good it immediately brings tears to his eyes.

"Oh," he says like he's surprised, and he is, apparently so much so that it's all he can say. "O-oh, oh, oh—"

Your finger retracts back into nothingness, and Johnny bites back a sob. "Johnny?" you ask worriedly. "Did you—is it too much?"

"No, no," he babbles, feeling incoherent already. You brush his hair back from his face with your free hand, the one that ain't inside him, your thumb stroking over his cheek. "It was—fuck, felt so weird. But good. Really, really good. Can you—are you gonna do it again?"

"Will if you want me to," you answer lovingly, and Johnny is biting back another sob for a whole different reason. "Might be a bit intense, Johnny dear. You sure you wanna?"

"Yes, yeah." He stares up at you beseechingly, feeling a bit pathetic but also too far gone to give a shit. "Please, I wanna—I wanna feel it again."

You nod, leaning over to kiss him again. Johnny relaxes into the embrace, losing himself in the familiar touch of your lips, the smell of you, taking the bite out of his surge of panic—and then with no warning you're brushing against that spot inside him again and he's moaning into your mouth, loud and unrestrained. It's pitchy and startled, and your free hand cups the back of his head as he pulls away in shock.

"Fuck, Jesus Christ," he swears, slamming his head back against the dirt. "O-oh, oh god, ohgodohgod—"

"Still good?" you ask, and your fingers made a weird sort of curling motion and it occurs to Johnny that you're movin' them in and out, sort of like you would if you were actually fucking him, and the thought makes him flush so hard he feels feverish. You're fucking him. You're fucking him.

He nods deliriously. "Mhm, yeah," he gasps out, feeling breathless, feeling giddy. "Don't stop, feels so fuckin' good, oh my god."

Your fingers press into him over and over like you're ringin' a bell, and all the while you kiss him and for the first time in ages Johnny feels that both parts of his body are equal. The bottom half has come alive under your jackhammering fingers, the top half consumed by you and your kiss. The kissing makes it so much better, 'cause Johnny reckons if anyone else had their fingers in his ass he'd probably hate it even if they were touching his whatdidyoucallit like that and making him feel amazing. He'd hate it 'cause they wouldn't be you.

The kissing reminds him it's you. The chaps on your lips, the smell of you, the feel of your face and skin, your body pressing into his. It's so all consuming it makes him wanna cry, in a good way, in a weird way. Your fingers move faster and weirder, and Johnny starts making those stupid oh! oh! noises again, stifling them against your mouth, and your tongue presses in and you swallow them whole.

All too soon, Johnny feels a weird tightening, one he hasn't felt since before the incident. He feels a constriction of panic, his fingers clutching at your clothing. "I—hah!—I f-feel weird."

"Bad weird?" Your fingers slow down, nearly stop, and Johnny whines.

"No, no, good weird, good," he pants. "Move again, fuck."

You pick up the pace; Johnny shudders, tensing in your hold all over again. He feels like he's burning, like he's sweating out everything bad he's ever felt.

"Do you mean you're gonna cum?" you ask, your voice lower this time, so close to Johnny's ear it makes him shiver. The harsh brush of your chapped lips against the soft skin there makes his body feel electric.

"I think," he whispers, eyes screwing shut. "Sorry—oh—I think, yeah."

"Don't feel sorry," you tell him almost sternly. "I want to see you cum, Johnny. Wanna see you cum so hard your pretty little head goes blank. You deserve it, yeah?"

"Yeah," he gasps out. "I deserve it."

What you do next with your fingers is almost brutal in the wracks of shivering pleasure it sends simmering through Johnny's body; every curl of them has him writhing and gasping and moaning, he must sound so stupid but you seem to be liking it and fuck, he's liking it, he likes feeling a little stupid and helpless while you take care of him and he's definitely gonna have to unpack that, but later, 'cause—

"I'm gonna cum," he gasps, hands flying out to curl in your clothing. "Baby, baby, I'm gonna cum, I—kiss me? Kiss me, okay, I wanna, oh, oh oh oh—"

You crash your lips together, and your fingers curl up one last lingering time and Johnny shatters. White stars explode over his vision, shatter inside his head, and for a split second it feels like every cell in his body freezes up and screams and dies. He's vaguely aware of some long, drawn-out, breathless noise he's making and the way you swallow it with your mouth.

It takes several seconds for him to come back down to earth. When he does it's to the sensation of you running your fingers through his hair and pressing soft, feathery kisses to his cheeks.

He pants like a dog. When you see his blue eyes on you, you sit up, seem to retract your fingers from between his legs. Your image starts to blur, and Johnny sees your expression crease in concern. He realises he's crying. Not like, actually, not like he's got something to be upset about. He's just... tearing up. Like someone's turned a faucet on behind his eyes and just left it there. He pushes the heels of his hands into the sockets and presses down, willing it to stop, willing the overwhelming feeling blooming in his chest to deflate.

"Hey, hey." Your voice, low and soothing, pressed into his hair, your arms holding him tightly. "You okay?"

"Yes," he says almost angrily. "I'm fine. Dunno why I'm—fuck. Sorry. I'm good, I promise I'm good. That was... so, so good."

Your expression of concern gives way slightly. "You sure?"

"Yeah." Johnny sucks in a shaky, wet breath. "Thanks. Thank you. I didn't even... I didn't even know I could feel like that anymore. Not just 'cause of—you know." He gestures vaguely to the lower half of his body. "All of it. Like, I didn't think anyone would wanna—while I'm still like this. And I—I figured I didn't deserve it, or something. But... it was really good."

Your smile is a little sad. "I'm glad, Johnny dear. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Now that we know it works, we can do it again. And again, and again." He flushes, and you laugh sweetly, and Johnny could just die to the sound of it. "Still, we should get some rest for tonight. Gyro will skin us alive if we oversleep again."

You're right, of course. Johnny lets you maneuvre him onto his sleeping skin, and you unroll yours right next to him. When you do, Johnny reaches for you, clinging like a damn insect. But you don't seem to mind, 'cause you wrap your arms around his waist and bring him in even closer. He tucks his head into your shoulder.

He thinks that he'll get to kiss you tomorrow, too.

His sleep is dreamless and deep.

[your-favblondie]

'*•.¸♡ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬♡¸.•*'

(This is one of my first times writing in the past few years and my first time writing in this way so please give me any criticism and any tips you guys may have!! Now on to the story :3)

Word Count: 625

Thank you to everyone who participated in the poll. Our winner was everyone's favorite emo, Choso!! I hope you enjoy the story and if you did leave a like or a comment down below!

Choso is soo sweet but also soooo sooo inexperienced in his relationships.

He probably has only dated one or two people before you if you aren't his first relationship.

He texts like a Victorian gentleman, uses no slang, and has perfect punctuation.

"Hello Sweetheart, I hope this message finds you well. Tell me how your day has been? Love, Choso"

His room is like a teenager's room, with posters and little collections of his favorite things, and on a shelf above his desk, he has pictures of you and his brothers, plus any gifts you've ever given him! (super sentimental) Has a matching couple's bracelets sitting on his desk for you two. ( Shhh he's gonna surprise you)

He's a very clean person! ( no dust shall cover his room) The type to always offer to help with dishes if he eats at another person's house.

Gives you little flowers he found and if you're going on a trip and he won't see you for a while he'll dry some flowers inside a book and give them to you! (he'd also do this on the regular for you and make bookmarks for you if you're an avid reader)

his love language is def gift-giving and touch!! holds your pinky with his, lets you hold onto his arm when you're out in public, and holds you from behind while you're talking with other people.

When he's sick he'll try and hide it because he feels like getting sick makes him weak and useless. ( Once you realize this you'll have to persuade him to let you take care of him. )

At the start of the relationship, I'd feel like he wouldn't be very into PDA mostly because he isn't all too used to it and hasn't been exposed to other couples doing PDA in front of him. But after a few years, it'll be the exact opposite problem will cling to you like a koala bear. Hugs from behind, sweet neck kisses, arm hung loosely around your waist, etc... He can't be away from his darling for too long or he might die!!

uses dramatization for humor, it started off as his version of trying to be sarcastic after you explained to him sarcasm. But he didn't quite catch on...

" Be careful Choso!" you called out to him as he pushed off to the ice skating rink. Recently the icey weather has made it possible to open up a skating rink so you and Choso decided to go and give it a try. Choso says he's great at skating since he and his brothers skated all the time at their non-ice skating rink. You tried to explain to him that they weren't exactly the same but didn't have the heart to break his confidence. Now you rush to put your skate on as your boyfriend waits patiently, well about as patient as a puppy, for you to join him. " let's go," he says holding your hand gently as you both step onto the rink, and for a second you think he might be okay. For a second only though... CRASH Now you stare at your boyfriend whose face planted right onto the ice and was still lying on the rink not being able to get up. as he keeps slipping back down your laughter only grows, you reach your hand out to him to help him steady himself, "I think you may be the greatest skater I've ever seen hunny" You tease. As he rises his face is full of confusion and he turns to look at you. "Baby I think to be a good skater you have to be able to stand?" He corrects you. "I'm being sarcastic chos- " "What is sarcastic?"

now every time he sucks at something he quickly jokes that he is the absolute best at it

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. I plan on continuing writing when I have the chance so please leave suggestions in the comments down below! I would greatly appreciate it! I may even do an NSFW ver. of Choso headcannons.

[randomnumbers751650]

Talking about a ship for me is complicated because the feeling that I might be missing something or extrapolating too much. But still, I want to talk about Kafka/Blade.

Since HSR is a gacha, the chances of playable characters having romantic relationships are very low, so the fans have to pick the crumbs. Sometimes it’s pretty much obvious the devs want certain characters together, but the hand of the gacha business model holds them back. Other times, not really, maybe the devs are really aiming for platonic or other. And, of course, fans are free to interpret their own. So, I’m here to give my interpretation of KafBlade, why it called my attention.

From their interactions, they are working together and they have a level of affection: Kafka calls him Bladie (and he’s upset if others call him by that), Blade loves hearing her singing and is receptive to her whispers; they also seem to have good synergy in the battlefield. It also works in accomplishing missions, with Kafka’s lack of fear making her prone to injuries and Blade acting as her immortal bodyguard. Plus, there’s the implication they had to fake being a couple for a mission, which I hope it never gets a full flashback because imagining how it went is funnier. How they complement each other is what makes them so interesting.

They are both fundamentally broken people. We know Blade’s story, but it’s pretty implied Kafka has some tragedy in the closet (with Blade commenting he doesn’t want to see her sad; would it really be surprising?). And, they are villains after all.

But still, what I see in them is how they can still experience with each other things that they couldn’t imagine to experience or that they thought that they’d never experience. For example, Kafka is a liar. It’s a strength in her job, to the point even when she’s telling the truth it still feels she’s lying. She uses her whispers to dominate men and then discard them when they’ve done their jobs. She goes full “nothing personnel, kid”, because for her everything is just a job.

And then, one day, appears a guy who’s like “can you do that again?” A guy who wants to be whispered, whose lies sooth and motivate him. And then she learns he’s an immortal that wants to die and then she decides that she’ll help, but that she will strive to make his life more fun until that day because he amuses you. She has no feelings for him, because she has no feelings at all (or are very different from what normal people think to be); either she wasn’t born with them or the organization she learned her skills remove them, but still she just wants to make him feel good about his journey to death.

Blade is similar: he wants revenge. He crafted his entire life and used all his bladesmith skills to pursue that goal; it’s easy to imagine him forgoing everything, his feelings, his self-care, eating whatever slop he puts on his face, a very miserable life. And then one day a woman appears saying “join me” and she’s actually…fun to be around. Sure, they are using each other to their respective objectives, but there’s something more to it. He starts to pick her habits and helps her whenever she needs carry her stuff. And then he starts to wonder that, yes, his life sucks, but it sucks a bit less with her around. The blade he crafted for revenge can be used to protect, unexpectedly.

It should be noted that the devs already had opportunities to portray their relationship as toxic and abusive, but they haven’t. I’m not sure I’d call healthy either, but there seems to be a mutual respect and trust about them. I mean, they are dangerous (along with the rest of the Stellaron Hunters, Silverwolf, Sam and Elio himself (it’d be really funny if he was the cat)), but still it’s not hard to imagine them as a found family. We have to wait for future updates to see how they’ll be developed, but their Team Rocket dynamic with the heroes is fun.

One last thing is how I think it’s funny that KafBlade is “what if Gojo and Marin (from My Dress Up Darling) were evil?”. Kafka is the extroverted girl that loves shopping and fashion, while Blade is the recluse artist, but that grew bitter - as Yingxing, he was one the best bladesmiths of the Xianzou, he knows what beauty is (also please read the fanfic “dal segno al fine”, it really captures this side of his) – and would be reluctant even if Kafka’s feelings were like Marin’s; Kafka would have to have a lot of patience, but I think she’s not one to give up once she set up a goal.

I didn’t really review their text and quotes, I’m remembering all of it in the game and some comments in the internet. Even so, I wonder if others share these thoughts on them, especially the fact they bring out things that were previously kinda buried in each other, so it has potential for a more mature love story.

[ilycosy]

— a heavy burden ୨୧ evan's story

aﾉn — evan n reader lore !!! this kinda adds nothing to noted but i had fun writing it and it was definitely fun to flesh out evan (who will def reappear in different works bc i love him) so hope u guys enjoy !!

warning ; this has themes of neglect & is kinda angsty

evan couldn't remember a time when he wasn't seen as a complete and utter nuisance to be around, diagnosed with many things, and suspected for too many to count. he could barely read or write even though he was fastly approaching seven— not to mention the awful sleeping habits.

his mother hid it from him as much as she could, wanting to ignore all the signs of her son (or, daughter at the time) acting like this. she spent most of her time knitting random things, unable to sleep for almost days on end.

meeting you was a blessing to him, really. stumbling on his shoelaces, unable to tie them due to the inability to focus on something without becoming anxious or tired, almost right onto you. a pretty girl with even prettier hair, he felt embarrassed.

"do you need help with that?" you had asked him before he could sprint away in embarrassment, pointing to his raggedy shoes. shoes that are too small and should've been retired ages ago, not that he knew that. he faintly remembers whispering a yes ma'am (completely informal, he would never do this now) and looking away nervously.

you tying his shoes was the best thing that happened to him. he never told you that, though. he'd rather drop dead and be cursed by the gods than verbalize his feelings for you, much rather sneaking about and handling things for you more subtly.

if anybody asked him why he was so attached to you, he'd probably tell them the story of his ninth birthday. you were only eleven, yet you acted so much better than him, poised and perfect, never afraid of anything. not even the monsters that he saw, the ones you promised that you saw too.

he thought you were lying until another joined your group, a wiry girl that had crutches. he never judged her, though. you were always kind— he wanted to be kind too.

this girl was odd. to say the least. she constantly talked of greek mythology, speaking oddly about certain monsters that evan quickly realized he could see. you never showed fear, though, always reassuring him that it'll be okay or that the girl didn't know.

well, it turns out she did know! he promised that he would never say 'i told you so' but sometimes he still thinks about it.

his ninth birthday was spent running, barely having time to pack or mourn his mother— even if she had forgotten his birthday - or maybe just ignored it again.

hiding in an abandoned building, in the gross muggy air with other homeless people (he wasn't one to judge, but he couldn't help but think that everything was contaminated with a fluid). he was covered in dirt, sweat, and even some blood.

you guys had found out that the girl was a satyr, your 'protector'. evan thought it was stupid, she didn't give him the support she said that she was there for, only apparently dragging him to this stupid mythical camp where he'd be safe.

sitting on some rotten wood, he was convinced that he was going to die. only nine, barely nine.

until your hand brushed his, interlacing your small hand with his even smaller one. your thumb rubbed his hand as he choked up, he felt embarrassed by it— but he never said anything, taking any comfort he could.

evan knew he was a burden, but he couldn't help but selfishly wish that he was your lightest burden.

evan can remember that day like it was yesterday, being twelve now and it being his third year at camp. he wasn't really good at anything. his sword fighting was mediocre at best, he sucked at metal working, and he felt lackluster in the planning department.

he liked planning, though, writing down any idea that he has in a notebook you had made him. he always kept it near him, never wanting people to see this part of him— the part only you knew about.

you were claimed almost immediately, going off into aphrodite's cabin. a goddess of love, beauty, and warfare, it was perfect for you. he felt blinded by your beauty whenever he saw you, never mentioning that, though. the only time he ever felt love was when he was with you, being cradled in your arms while he wept about another birthday. and you were a monster in the battlefield.

aphrodite went against hermes almost constantly. nobody expected aphrodite kids to be good, so they were mainly left up for whoever was lacking members. but he prayed to whoever his father was that you would be on his team, even when it wasn't a serious capture the flag game.

he spent three years being unclaimed, sitting in a dingy hermes bunkbed surrounded by kids who he knew didn't care about him. he ignored everyone, favoring sleep. he remembers a boy with bleached hair and deep brown eyes telling him that he should really try a redbull, but he ignored him for his blankets.

it was the only thing he felt good at. he felt relieved of being a burden to everyone whenever he was asleep, maybe that's why it made sense for him to be claimed by hypnos.

hypnos, god of sleep. of fucking course. he didn't know what to expect, but he didn't know what to think about this. it was like everyone was laughing in his face, of course he's the son of the sleep god!

red hot heat spread across his face when he was claimed, everyone snickering like they already knew or telling him that it's 'not that bad' and 'he's lucky that nobody expects anything from him now', yeah real lucky.

he'd lay curled up in bed, wishing that it was a dream— that it was some sick joke that he'd get claimed in front of everybody, be something for everyone to gawk and giggle at. son of the sleep god, what a joke.

he almost screamed when he felt a jab in his spine, your hand instantly covering his mouth. "ev," you whispered to him, "come with me."

he could never deny you, really. he followed you without hesitation, but that doesn't mean you didn't get lots of complaining.

he was greeted with cookies, his favorite, in the shape of little pillows with marshmallows inside to fluff them up. he was so in shock that he ignored your corny marshmallow pun, inside just throwing his arms around you.

for a second, he felt less like a burden and more like a simple weight you carry.

you were eighteen now, freshly graduated from high school. both you and evan only stayed in camp for summers, deciding that you wanted some type of education.

you had grown up, really, not only physically but also mentally. sometimes you felt like an old woman whenever you talked to evan, who was very much in the trenches of his teen angst (though, he's been like this since you met him).

he was leaning against you now, asleep on your shoulder after luke had forced him to practice his sword fighting with him. if you think back enough, you could imagine little luke, bleached hair, and deep eyebags staring at you from across the dining pavilion.

you shook your head to rid those thoughts, instead looking at evan. he had grown taller, standing at a great 5'7 (he insisted on it being called great). but he still felt like the same eight-year old you tied shoes for, you could still feel the weight of his small head against your chest when you were on the run.

his weight was comforting, and it let you know that you were both alive— not yet meeting the demigod fate that many talked about, either in fear or with that glory hungry look.

you couldn't help but wonder if he knew just how special he was. you knew that he'd scoff and lean away if you told him, still deeply insecure about his place in the world, he'd never be caught dead verbalizing his feelings.

you knew he loved you, you could tell from the way he hugged you. his hugs always bone crushing and never relenting until you pull away. the way he never hesitates with believing or following you, his blind trust in you felt undeserved but he'd disagree.

you knew that he loved you. he would never see you as a burden. but you still wondered if he knew that he wasn't as heavy as he thinks, he was never a burden, nor will he ever be.

[sunlightdances]

Stay (Dean Winchester x OFC)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Original Female Character Rating: PG-13 for swearing and mentions of sex. Summary: Dean and Avery have a two-night stand, and after that weekend, they go their separate ways. They never expected to see each other again, but the universe has other plans. A/N: Guys, where do I even begin? It’s been ages. I miss you. I see your messages, your likes, your reblogs. Thank you. Here’s this. I wrote a lot of it on my phone, so bear with me if there are typos.

It just goes like this, doesn't it?

One night where the both of them could let go of expectations, of being who the universe was making them be. One night.

But just like they knew they didn't have a choice but to be who the universe wanted them to be, they should have known the universe would pull the absolute worst April Fool's Day prank of all time.

They gape at each other, minds racing as images of tangled sheets, open mouths, and moonlit smiles come flooding back.

The task at hand doesn't let them linger too long.

She's firing with military precision, and he's right there with her, sweat dripping down his jaw as he reloads round after round, wondering if the universe put them both here to die together.

But then Sam shows up, like he always does. He saves them both, and the three of them save the day.

It takes longer for Dean to work up the courage to look her in her eyes. He feels-- he feels ashamed somehow, that he let her go that rainy Sunday morning.

There was never an argument or anything. They both just knew it was time. She had said she had to catch a flight and get back to work, and he lied and told her he had to do the same thing.

They had two nights of connection, of passion, but also of affection. He told her things he never told anyone. They spent a Saturday night fully clothed, eating take out straight from the containers in a hotel's king-sized bed. He felt comfortable with her like he hadn't felt with anyone in years.

And yeah, it sucked when she left. He sort of hoped there'd be a knock on the door saying she missed her flight, but he wasn't sad. They both knew what they were signing up for when they met at the bar that Friday night, eyes only for each other.

Still, he thinks he's remembered her kiss every day since.

He still thinks no one has ever touched him like she did.

So, yeah, he's a little angry and flustered when he sees her here, because she said she worked in marketing or some bullshit, and while he didn't expect her to be totally truthful with a stranger, this is a little too coincidental to be believed.

She bats his hands away when he offers to help her bandage a big scrape on her leg, and he tries not to make a face at the rejection. He's very aware of Sam watching him closely, but he has no idea what to say.

There's no point in lying about knowing her. He told Sam that he had spent a weekend with a woman the day he came home from his impromptu trip, but that it was nothing special, nothing but some no strings attached fun.

Turns out Dean might be the one who had a few strings.

.

Her face feels like it's on fire. Her game plan so far is just to refuse to speak to him, but that feels a bit stupid given the situation they just found themselves in.

Jesus Christ, but he couldn't have said he was Dean Winchester when they met? To be fair - she didn't give a lot of details about herself either. They didn't even really talk about work except when she said there was no way she could stretch her trip into one more day. She had to work.

(She lied about work just like he did, but that's neither here nor there)

She just never thought she'd still be thinking about him months later, much less seeing him in person. In the middle of a hunt.

She did have a real job. She wasn't lying about that. Her work for the FBI is very, very, VERY top secret. Fringe Division has been practically dead for years, but ever since the almost-apocalypse (she supposes she has Dean to thank for that, too), their work is more important than ever.

She was just supposed to be doing field work. Recon. She was never supposed to get involved, but here she is, trying to put a bandage on herself in the middle of the woods.

She can’t stop herself from watching his hands, remembering when they traced every inch of her skin and made her gasp and writhe and the way in the next breath they’d find a ticklish spot and make her laugh.

It’s just all so unbelievable.

Sam is the one to break the ice, which feels inevitable. “So. Anyone want to explain this?” He gestures between her and Dean.

Dean’s jaw clenches. For a moment she feels frustrated because why is he angry? They parted mutually. They both told lies and half truths and let themselves escape in high thread count sheets and each other.

She thrusts out her hand. The one not currently covered in blood. “Avery Harper.”

“Avery.” Sam repeats.

“Technically it’s Special Agent Avery Harper, but I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Dean chokes out a laugh, but it’s a little bitter. Avery’s smile doesn’t meet her eyes.

“I think we have a lot of catching up to do,” she suggests. “Food?”

She turns and heads toward her car before anyone says anything else. She hears a whispered argument, an exasperated sigh, and then finally the sound of footsteps on the crushed gravel. A hand grabs her elbow a moment later, then releases her like she’s on fire.

“We look like shit.” Dean’s voice is gruff. “Pizza at our place instead.”

The drive to their place is pleasant, at least. She struggles to keep up with Dean’s car, but she suspects he’s doing it on purpose so she lets him. He’s never truly out of her sight. She uses the time to try to work her way out of this, but decides there’s no point.

The only thing she needs to do is make them understand she’s not trying to take over their turf and that she has no interest in arresting them, and hope that they hear her out.

She follows along a long dirt driveway. The building looks rundown from the outside, but she trusts them. Trusts Dean.

Inside, she’s not ashamed of the way her mouth falls open as she takes in the gleaming tiles and smooth wood. The place is incredible.

“The inner sanctum?”

“Something like that.” Dean mutters, brushing past her. They both pause at the contact.

“I’m going to…. order pizza”. Sam says, quickly making himself scarce.

She and Dean stand there in the fading sunlight streaming in through a nearby window, and the light catches on his eyes. He’s hurt. She can see that, and she does feel guilty. Even though they were both doing the same thing, she’s realizing now that he probably would have loved to know he was completely understood.

That night, even though she didn’t know who he was, she felt a connection that was deeper than attraction. Now she knows why.

“I didn’t know who you were.” She says, hands tightening at her sides.

“How is that possible?”

“Not every agent is out to get you.”

He smirks. “Most of my interactions with the feds say the opposite.”

She exhales.

He rubs a hand over his face. The sound of his stubble scratching against weathered palms takes her back to a warm bed, a feeling of being so cocooned with someone else she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.

“Is Avery even your real name?” He asks, voice rough.

“Yes.”

A beat. “Marketing?”

She can’t help but laugh. “I didn’t know what to say!”

“You could have bragged about having a badass job.”

She’s surprised, but tries not to show it. “So could you.”

He shrugs. “Wanted to… shed it.”

“Me too.” She admits softly.

This time when he meets her eyes, his are vulnerable, a dark green that leaves goosebumps on her arms. “I—“ he stops himself. She wishes he wouldn’t. He changes tactics. “Let me take a look at that arm.”

“It’s alright-“

“Ave. Let me.”

A shortened version of her name hits her right in the gut. It’s familiar, intimate in a way she hadn’t been expecting. “Okay.” She relents.

.

He can’t take his eyes off her.

He was angry for a minute, he felt off guard, off kilter, but now that she’s in front of him he can’t bring himself to hold a grudge. He’s just happy to see her.

The FBI.

What a fucking day.

She doesn’t tell him much about why she was hunting, how she knew about the fight he and Sam were in on, how she showed up right when they did and where any of her intel came from.

They’ve always known that someone somewhere in the feds had an inside track, and it always bothered him. But because it’s her, he can’t find it in himself to be angry.

He thinks of the way she didn’t hesitate, just set up shoulder to shoulder with him and aimed her weapon like she’d be damned if anyone or anything tried to get close to the Winchesters.

He’s pretty amazed by her, he’s got to admit. She’s everything he’s ever wanted wrapped up in the most beautiful package, and that’s what makes him pause. Because he’s never allowed to have good things for long.

In his bathroom he inspects her wounds, uses the excuse to crowd her a little bit, inhales the familiar scent of citrus and vanilla that follows her like a cloud.

If she notices she doesn’t say anything and he’s grateful.

Her hand fits just so in his.

“Thank you.” She says eventually.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“Dean—“

He looks up, sees her eyes uncertain, a little wild.

She kisses him before he can take his next breath. It sends heat sizzling up his spine, electricity crackling in the space between them.

It’s exactly how he remembers it, and somehow more. More because they’re truly themselves now, no secrets between them.

His hands are in her hair. Hers are tight on his hips, digging in, a desperation in her touch that he's relieved to feel, proof that he isn't the only one feeling this way.

When the need for air is too much, they wrench apart, gasping. Her mouth goes to his neck, and his lips find her forehead, and he can't do this again. He can't pretend.

"Wait. Avery, wait."

Her eyes are unfocused when she looks at him. "Sorry--"

He shakes his head. "Don't be. I-- god, I wanted that. I just... it's too much. I can't."

"I've thought about this for months." She admits, and his eyes slide shut.

"Don't tell me that."

"It's the truth." When he opens his eyes again, her smile is sad, but there's a bit of hope there too, and it makes his heart pick up speed. "I didn't want to go, that morning. I wanted to give you my number, I wanted to see you again."

"I did too. I wanted you to come back."

"It feels cursed, Dean." She says quietly. "This-- this is all too much of a coincidence."

He nods. "I know. But-- is that so bad?" He leans close, lips at her temple. Can't stop touching her. "Can't we just give ourselves something to be happy about?"

"We do have a lot to fill each other in about." She agrees, words sounding more like a moan in the quiet room.

"Stay." His voice is hoarse. "Stay with me. We'll figure it all out after."

He's tired of denying himself things he wants, things that make him happy. And if all the decisions he's made over the last few months, every thought and every choice have lead him right back here to her, then who is he to question it?

She stays.

[siancore]

End of the World

Sam x Bucky | 2.1K Words| Rated E 

In response to this: Does anyone have any good fic recs for Sam and Bucky hooking up for the first time right before the battle in Wakanda? Really in the mood for some 'we might die, so I'm gonna shoot my shot with the guy i've been pining after forever' SamBucky vibes.

@staying-elive​ this is for you. Hope it’s okay x

The man was insufferable, Sam thought as he and Steve’s friend, James Bucky Barnes, sat in the car and waited. Lord was he insufferable. Not Steve, he was tolerable. His friend, Bucky, was insufferable. Sure, he’d been through a lot, and Sam could understand that, but he was beginning to be a pain in Sam’s ass (and not in a good, sexy kinda way). They didn’t know one another, but they were grown ass men and could be civil, right? Yeah, well, tell that to the bionic staring machine.

“Can you move your seat up?”

Bitch, can you slide your beefy ass across to the other side of this car and quit bothering me? Is what Sam wanted to say, but a simple no would suffice.

Sam didn’t ask for him to have Sam’s six while they handled business. Sam wasn’t new to this superhero shit, thank you very much. It wasn’t his first rodeo, so to speak. He may not be super-fucking-powered, but he could handle his own. After all, he had gone up against the Winter Soldier and lived to talk about it. Still, Bucky stayed close.

Maybe he was doing Steve a solid by being there with Sam. By running slowly to keep pace with Sam. By jumping in front of the Spider-Kid to soften the blow to Sam’s body. And that was – okay Sam could admit, that was nice. Then he had to go and ruin it all by opening his mouth and talking shit.

Why are the fine ones always this annoying? Sam asked himself before lying and saying, “I hate you.”

Sam did not hate James Bucky Barnes. No, he did not. He kinda hated himself for flushing warm when Bucky stared at him too long, dragging his gaze from Sam’s eyes to his lips, and back again. Yeah, he kinda hated himself when, in quiet moments, he wondered what it would be like to have all of that super strength levelled at him in a different way. Where he would lift Sam from the floor and pin him to a wall – or toss him down on one of the shitty motel beds – or manhandle him while sinking himself deep inside of Sam. Yeah, Sam kinda hated himself for the thoughts he had about Bucky in the shower, when he had to bite back sounds so his friends wouldn’t hear as he coated the tiled wall with his release. Yeah, Sam kinda hated himself for being attracted to Steve’s annoying, old ass friend.

Why the hell was the former Winter Soldier still lying there covered in Spider-Kid gunk when he could just break through it? Why was he taking his sweet damn time to get up and help Sam out? Finally, he got to his feet, and went to Sam.

“Well, you’re welcome, by the way,” said Bucky as he stared down at an incapacitated Sam.

“What? For what?” asked Sam as he struggled to get lose.

“For me takin’ the brunt of that Spiderling’s hit for you,” said Bucky, as he knelt down.

“Didn’t ask you to.”

“Didn’t need to.”

“Man, stop fuckin’ around and get me outta this,” said Sam, gesturing to the substance that had him in a bind.

“Y’know, you’re kinda pretty like this,” said Bucky, with a crooked smile. “All tied up.”

Oh?

Oh.

“Quit playin’ and get me outta this.”

“You should ask me nicely,” said James Bucky Barnes because he was an asshole and liked fucking with Sam.

“You should suck my dick.”

Bucky’s eyebrow shot up before he said, “Mmm, tempting.”

“Fuck you,” said Sam, struggling a little more.

Bucky had the audacity to stare into Sam’s eyes, lick his stupidly pink lips, and say, “You offerin’, sweetheart?”

Sam didn’t know if it was the adrenaline coursing through his body, or the fact that Bucky’s voice had dropped an octave and his eyes were steely and piercing, but Sam was struck by a sudden flush of lust. He thought about it for a moment, seeing that there was a seriousness to Bucky’s reply. They were on their own, away from the battle. Sam hadn’t gotten his dick wet in ages. What was a couple of blow-jobs between thrown-together team mates? This was sure to be the end of the Avengers, might as well go out with a bang, right?

Wrong.

Even though Sam was a thrill-seeker, even though he was sure that Bucky would fuck like he fought, hot as shit and very dangerous, he knew they had a job to do. Even if hate-sex with Bucky would probably be the best of his life. Sam looked up at the other man, scoffed, and said, “Please. The only way we’d be fucking is if the world was ending.”

Bucky let out an amused little laugh, began to help Sam out of his binds, and said, “Noted.”

xXxXx

The past couple of years on the run were hectic, to say the least. Moving from one place to the next, living off shitty food in shittier accommodations had Sam missing home. Rhodey had been good at keeping him updated on Sarah and the boys, making sure that they were okay. Making him feel less shitty about being away from them. His family was part of the world, and saving the world meant saving them, so Sam found himself piloting the jet to Wakanda to help a friend.

He knew a friend of a friend was there. Had been there for a while now. He wasn’t sure is said friend of a friend, James Bucky Barnes, was out of the freezer. If he was doing alright. If he was healing. When they touched down, Sam had to hold back a smile when he saw Steve’s friend. He looked good, Sam could admit that. Sam watched the two best friends embraced and he felt a little nostalgic for home. And despite the sombre mood, Bucky was smiling. It was nice.

It was nice right up until he looked Sam dead in the eyes as he answered Steve’s question with, “Pretty good – for the end of the world.”

So, he remembered, then? Or maybe it was a blanket statement? Whatever it was, it was doing something for Sam. All of those lonely nights on the run were made a little warmer by thoughts of what it would feel like to be with Bucky Barnes. But Sam had probably missed his chance. They were gearing up for war.

…..

“Hiding away from everyone, uh?” came a voice behind Sam as he leaned against one of the walls of the Royal Palace Gardens.

It was Bucky. Sam rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a coward, Barnes,” said Sam dryly. “If that’s what you’re tryna say.”

“What? No, of course not,” said Bucky, sounding earnest. “That’s not what I meant at all. I read your file. You’re the bravest of us all.”

“Oh, okay,” said Sam, glancing sideways at the other man. “I’m just no help in there, with all the science stuff and strategy. I see someone who needs help, and I’m there. If there’s a fight that needs fighting, I’m there. Just needed to take a moment to myself. Try to call my sister. Figured this could be it. The end of the world.”

Bucky nodded his head knowingly.

“What’re you doin’ out here?” Sam added.

“Same as you,” Bucky replied. “Sorta. I got no family to call, but I needed a moment, too, since the world is ending.”

Sam nodded his head and took a discreet breath.

“Plus, I figured I’d take you up on your offer.”

Sam raised an eyebrow and looked at Bucky.

“What offer?” he asked, feigning ignorance or amnesia.

Bucky tucked his hair behind his ear and said, “Back in Germany. How you and me would fuck if the world was ending.”

“Right,” was all Sam could say as he swallowed hard.

“Figured we got a little time before the fight starts,” said Bucky as he reached a hand over to trace the lines on Sam’s breastplate. “I’d really hate to die today and not know what it feels like to be with you, Sam.”

Sam looked down at where Bucky’s hand was, and then back up at his eyes.

“We’re not gonna die today,” he whispered, taking hold of Bucky’s hand.

“We might,” Bucky whispered in reply as he ran his thumb over Sam’s. “So, what d’ya say?”

xXxXx

A Wakandan Royal Palace broom closet. Sam was hooking up with the former Winter in a Wakandan Royal Palace broom closet at the end of the world. What was his life? He was drawn from his musing from the feeling of Bucky’s beard against his skin as Bucky sucked marks onto Sam’s neck while rubbing him through his tac gear.

Sam had hooked up with other soldiers before while he was deployed or on a mission. It was always fast, sweaty, and messy. He thought it would be the same with Bucky, but it wasn’t. Bucky did not smell of the desert and dried blood. He smelled of almond oil and soap. His lips were not brash and hurried, he was taking his time to kiss Sam; to savor Sam’s taste. His hand were not rough and hasty, he was touching Sam like he revered him. What would it be like if the world weren’t ending and they had more time? If they had a small bed and less clothing?

“I knew you’d taste so sweet,” Bucky whispered, his breath warm against Sam’s ear. “Knew it from the first time I saw you.”

He undid Sam’s fly and reached his hand inside the tac pants. Sam’s gasped as Bucky took hold of his dick and gave it a tug.

“You – fuck – you noticed me? Were thinkin’ about me back then?” asked Sam as his eyes closed.

Bucky continued to stroke him before kissing his lips once more and saying, “Yes. How could I not? You’re kinda fuckin’ gorgeous.”

Sam threaded his fingers through Bucky’s hair, holding him in place as he asked, “Just kinda, eh?”

Bucky twisted his wrist expertly and caused Sam to moan before he kissed the moan away, and then said, “Actually, not kinda but definitely.”

Bucky stroked Sam’s cock with more fervor and said, “Look at you, sweetheart. You’re beautiful.”

Sam brought their lips together in a crushing kiss. It grew desperate. Bucky pulled him closer. Sam reached for Bucky’s dick and released him from his constraints. Bucky almost growled at the sensation. He pushed Sam against the wall and crowded his space; Sam almost keened for him.

“Wanted you the first time I saw you,” said Bucky as he strummed their dicks together and lapped at Sam’s neck.

“You can have me,” said Sam as his legs grew weak. “Do whatever you like. I want you, too.”

…..

Sam’s head was swimming and his body was alight, but he was right. Bucky fucked like he fought: With focus and precision and strength; swathed in intensity and a little danger. He held Sam in place, Sam’s back to the wall and his legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist, and drove himself in and out of Sam’s tight heat.

Biting kisses moved across every exposed bit of Sam’s warm skin as Bucky fucked him within an inch of his life. He clung to Bucky as the older man took him apart. As Bucky impaled Sam while stroking his cock. As he kissed him and claimed him and made his toes curl. As Bucky whispered almost incoherently against Sam’s neck and ear and lips. All breathy moans and guttural groans.

And it was over too quickly, but it needed to be. The world was ending, and Sam’s felt like it was just now expanding. Opened, like Bucky had done when he slid himself inside of Sam. They each came with curses and each other’s names on their lips. Sated and breathless. Holding one another close as they came down from their respective highs.

Bucky found a clean cloth to wipe them both down before he and Sam stole glances at one another while they dressed. A slight awkwardness filled the small space as Sam found his goggles and put them on the top of his head.

“I should – ah – I should go out first,” he said as Bucky nodded his head. “You wait a minute or two then come out. Y’know, so no one sees us or whatever.”

“Right, of course,” said Bucky, as he picked up his gun that he had placed to the floor.

He stepped closer to Sam, cupped his face, and then pressed a soft, languid kiss to his lips.

“Be safe out there,” said Bucky as he backed away and let Sam leave.

Sam opened the door, looked back, and gave Bucky a sweet smile.

“You, too,” said Sam gently. “See you on the other side.”

[shutupineedtothink]

X files mini review/analysis 3x02 "Paper clip"

Coming as the final part of what is basically a trilogy of episodes starting with the s2 finale, this was easily the craziest ep and probably the best I've seen in the show so far. I actually watched it twice!

First of all this ep covers hella ground. The amount of stuff they packed in here from mulder showing back up and the Spiderman face off with Skinner to secret files on anyone and everyone apparently including our scully and Samantha mulder to wait there were aliens in there?? To Melissa Scullys death at the end and MS final convo + hug was crazy. With cameos from the lone gunmen, scullys mom, Albert, CSM, etc etc. Lots going on and it still felt coherent and well paced to me.

Some highlights:

- how did you know? I just knew. -> biggest "we are about to kiss" energy I've seen so far. Also i more or less predicted this scene before we saw it from previous episodes, but it was no less excellent.

- scully verbally gunning for nazis was not something I knew i needed until now, please do more

- secret rich guy organization is kinda meh overall but I like the British guy

- Albert is the real hero of this ep for flying to DC just to pray over Missy

- love an old spooky mine, very scooby doo of them

- also the music? Went off this ep

- scully is really sweet for her concern over what they will find about mulders dad, but sweetie this is not the time also this man is out for answers

- sassy Skinner is my favorite skinner

- the file room/mine area gives ark of the covenant vibes slightly

- i love that mulder is immediately looking for her file and then his sisters

- fox mulder do not leave your partner behind in the creepy mine to chase aliens

- omggg the aliens running past scully got me

- looove the spaceship rising through the windows

- so that was a fuckin ufo and we're just gonna move on cool cool cool

- this shootout was fun ngl, v 80s action movie energy

- hm they kinda just get away, I think it'd be fun if there were some leftover aliens that took out the swat guys

- they really just hitchhiked to this diner huh

- they both have food but neither are eating, that feels deliberate

- what are you hoping to find agent Mulder? Why they killed my father. And what happened to my sister. And what they did to agent scully. She's his Family!! My heart.

- this convo is sooo good. Gillian acting the shit out of it as always

- interesting that mulder can't quite bring himself to make the deal, but he leaves it to scully basically already knowing what she'll do

- Actually, it is like he's giving up his family for hers in that moment, Jesus. And then Missy dies anyway. Fuck.

- so im not getting the white buffalo logic. If the mother died and the baby lived, wouldn't that mean Missy should live? Wait are they saying because mulder lived Missy had to die? I'm confused.

- krycekkkk!!!! Sucks!! Get blown to hell mf see if I care

- mulder finally getting "the truth" and maybe it wasn't what he wanted hmm

- so krycek has the tape now. You know what that is kind of interesting. And csm is lying about it. OK yes this is good setup.

- so mulders dad AND mom knew that Samantha would be taken??? Jesus.

- again, sassy Skinner is my favorite skinner.

- I like Albert being the living file but what is stopping them from killing all those guys really. I guess unless Skinner really is bluffing?

- i LOVE LOVE LOVE this ending hospital scene, specifically the lighting and the framing of the shot. Her sitting in the chair, him kneeling next to her, the light between them but they're both in darkness from the back, ugh it's so good.

- I think its about fate... idk if you should say that to someone after their sister just died.

- I've heard the truth mulder, now what i want are the answers. Banger line!

- I wonder if they planned that hug or he just went for it but I appreciate it either way.

- I hope scully gets to shoot krycek. Let her have revenge i would love to see it.

Overall great ep. A little all over the place but in a good way. Rip Missy I didn't think they would actually kill you.

[little-bumblebeeee]

Moonlight - part 2

Werewolf!Steve Harrington x vampire!Eddie Munson

a teeeeny tiny bit of angst but don't worry

A little bit shorter than I'd like and I'm realizing this might have more parts than I bargained for (also not proofread if you see mistakes no you don't)

Part 1 :)

They avoid each other like the plague. Well, it's mostly Steve avoiding Eddie a little more than usual. He even starts sending Tommy to buy weed instead of just getting it himself, which means that no, that was not in fact a weird ass dream and Steve most definitely is a werewolf. And Eddie called him a good boy. He doesn't know which is more embarrassing, the fact that he cuddled with him like he was a dog or the fact he kind of misses that. Eddie doesn't even attempt to talk to him. He didn't before, why would he now?

But the next full moon has Eddie wanting to go back to those woods. As he hears those cries and howls, he feels the strange need to go back out and help Steve again. So what does he do? He grabs the now cold McDonald's burger he was about to eat and his bag, as well as a pet brush because he doesn't want his fingers getting caught in Steve's matted fur again, walking briskly back to those woods. Just as last time, when Eddie peeks through the trees, he sees the big brown wolf curled up and whining, clearly still in a little bit of pain. "Steve?" Eddie asks tentatively. Steve's head perks up, looking around before his familiar burnt caramel eyes land on Eddie. He jumps up, bounding over to Eddie and tackling him to the ground.

Oh. Great. Eddie's dying now. His throat is gonna be ripped out and Steve is only licking his face to get a taste of Eddie before he absolutely devours him and- okay now why is that making him think about human Steve sucking his- anyways back to Eddie about to die. Which.. isn't happening. Steve hops off of Eddie, tail wagging as he digs his nose into Eddie's bag, fishing out the burger and finishing it off in a single bite, not even chewing once. "Steve.. hey. Uh.." Eddie stammers, sitting up and scooting back a bit. Steve is a lot more affectionate in this form, and Eddie just assumes that Steve doesn't remember shit because in what world would Steve Harrington want anything to do with Eddie Munson? Especially since... well, they have reasons for calling him a "freak" that aren't just about his looks. The one time he tried his hand at asking out a guy, it backfired horribly, and now practically everyone in Hawkins knows he's- that he's...

Different.

He was young. Tried to prove everyone "wrong" by asking out a girl he kind of liked, just to get people to think the rumors weren't true. But it only worsened things somehow, making him eternally damned to be "the freak". Why did life put him here? It's just his luck to be practically tortured his whole life then be told he's going to hell as if he's not already there. Maybe he has died. Maybe this is hell. He's only having this nice moment with Steve as he lays his head on Eddie's lap because it's a way for him to get his hopes up, for him to be happy for at least a few moments before it all comes crashing down again before he even gets the chance to savor it.

He's tired of it. He's tired of getting his hopes up, of crying, of dealing with.. everything. He's just. So. Tired.

Eddie looks back down at the werewolf lying in his lap when he feels Steve's wet nose nudge against his hand, big brown eyes looking right back up at him with a look that almost appears to be worry in his eyes. "Hey, Steve." He says quietly, running his ringed fingers through the light brown fur of the large animal. It's like a sliver of light, a shot of caffeine to wake him up. He feels a little more okay like this, even if his chest aches knowing Steve will only avoid him further by tomorrow. But tonight, he'll savor this tonight.

Before life rips it all away from Eddie, he'll savor this.

part 3

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