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bloodstainedsaint · 4 months

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thank you thank you thank yooou!! And I don’t mind waiting for good stuff 🤷‍♀️

Okay so my idea kinda was in episode 7 when George and Lipton is in the same foxhole. So they get “hit” by the dud but the reader is so scared something actually happened to George, so she is running towards their foxhole and George is screaming for her to stay put cuz he’s okay and then she gets hit….or almost…I mean something tragic. I wanna bawl my eyes out.

And of course…feel free to not do it, if you think it sucks🧡 Love your stuff and have a good day !

louder than bombs (george luz x reader)

word count: 1800+

warnings: blood, gore, death, angst (w happy ending), bff! roe, mutual pining, i hint at both renée x roe AND baberoe

notes: used some hcs from this (shameless self-plug), and happy new year to all! i hope that 2024 is your year :)

“So, you and Luz, huh?”

Despite Lieutenant Dike’s request not to (like you'd listen to a coward like him anyway, even if he did have a good point), you and Eugene were sharing a foxhole — one a few meters behind where Skip, Penk, Don, and Luz were standing around in a circle, joking and laughing.

Taking your eyes off the man in question — you'd been staring at him from afar for too long, anyway — you turned to Eugene with a befuddled expression. “What do you mean, ‘You and Luz?’”

He took one look at your face and chuckled around the cigarette in his mouth. “It can mean whatever you want it to mean.”

“You say that as if we’re together or something, Gene,” you scoffed and held yourself tighter for warmth.

“Practically. Seen yourself lately? You blush and smile whenever he talks to you.”

Spluttering in response, you could feel your ears going red. “Well, Bayou, what if I’m blushing because it's zero degrees out here? And what if he’s just a funny guy in general?”

Eugene glanced over to the group of men, and, as if on cue, they were cracking up at George’s impression of the chickenshit lieutenant. “He’s a good match for you, (Y/N).”

“Oh, I'm so glad you approve,” you said, rolling your eyes at your friend. “Gonna read our wedding rites now?”

He put out his cigarette. “He makes you laugh. We could all use some of that.”

You inspected the faraway look in Eugene’s eyes, and you knew he was right. The fatal accident with the goddamned Luger that killed Hoobler recently, the barrage earlier today that sent both Joe Toye and Bill home with missing right legs, the overall misery of this frozen hell. You’d all seen your fair share of blood and open flesh; the company needed the beam of light that was George Luz.

Watching Luz as he was pulled aside by Lipton, you exhaled, nodded, and huddled a little closer to Eugene. “Yeah. Yeah, you're right.” After a few quiet, thoughtful moments, a small smile creeped back up on your face when you thought of something to bring up the mood again.

“You never heard me teasing you about Renée,” you muttered beneath your breath, loud enough for him to hear and correct you on because you had teased him about the Belgian nurse. Before he could, you pushed on, your grin growing, “Hey, what about you and Babe, huh?”

Now it was his turn to turn to you shocked. Your snickering was interrupted by the roaring, deafening sound of a bombardment shredding trees around you.

“Shit!” you cursed, the night sky lighting up with fireworks of yellow and white. Snow and dirt erupted from the ground like spurts of lava from a volcano. Through the ringing in your ears, you heard bellows of “Incoming!” and other indistinct cries.

Turning to the man next to you, you shouted above the din, “Eugene, you alright?”

“Fine,” he shouted back as he clutched his helmet tight to his head. “You?”

“Fine,” you echoed with a nod, though maybe your head had moved on its own with the shaking ground beneath you. You strained your ears to single out cries for a medic; you didn't catch any, and you weren't sure if that was because no one had gotten hurt yet or because they were dead within an instant.

You peeped over the edge of your foxhole. In the flashes of light, you could make out amongst the silhouette of wrecked trees George hurriedly crawling on the ground towards a foxhole with two soldiers in it, yelling for him to come on. If your hearing wasn't failing you, you recognized their voices as Skip and Penk.

“What d’ya see?” Eugene poked his head out of the foxhole.

Your voice was strangled in your throat as you helplessly watched George inch his way toward cover. “I—” you started, before a shell directly hit the two men in the middle of their calls. Frantically, you backed into your foxhole. “Skip and Penk, they’re…”

“What?” Eugene shouted, and you realized you had only murmured it.

“Muck and Penkala got hit!” you cried. The look you gave Eugene told him that there would be no saving them.

You got back up to peek over your foxhole and saw that Luz had vanished. Your heart sank in your chest, right down to the pits of your stomach.

Before your mind could register what was going on, your feet lifted you up and out of the foxhole. You could faintly hear Eugene yelling at you to come back, (Y/N), what the hell are you doing? You hit the ground at the same time a shell did just meters away from you, showering you in debris. Yet, you felt distant from the thought of danger or bodily harm, your raw instinct on overdrive; the only thing that was running through your mind as you dashed through the devastated forest was if George was okay.

Eyes flitting around, you caught a glimpse of him getting into a foxhole with Lip. As waves of relief washed over you, you jumped into a foxhole a distance behind them. A shell impacted nearby and swept the fallen trees acting as their cover towards you. You pulled your knees close to your chest and covered your head, staying like that as the barrage kept up.

Then, for just a second, it was silent. Closing your eyes, you caught your breath. A whistling sound ceased the brief respite, and you peered over just in time to see smoke coming from George and Lipton’s foxhole. Your mind disconnected itself from your body once again; it felt like you were moving in slow motion as your feet took you to them. That smoke clouded your senses, your thoughts — all you could see and hear were the vivid memories of Hoobler’s wound gushing blood and his dull eyes closing shut for the last time; you treating Bill’s still twitching leg while Toye’s shredded one was being bandaged by Eugene only feet away; and Muck and Penkala’s foxhole going up in a spray of dirt and a show of light, abruptly cutting off their shouting.

What were you going to see when you arrived at their foxhole? Bloodstained snow? Mangled limbs? Ruined corpses? Even the thought made you want to sob.

Your heart thundered in your ear, louder than any bombs or artillery the Germans could send at you, but you could vaguely discern George’s voice in your trance.

“Damn it, am I yelling medic? Stay right fucking there, (Y/N)!”

Right as you were shaken out of your own head, your eyes focusing on the two unharmed men as they yelled for you to stay put, a shell hit a tree hardly an arm’s length away from you. The burst launched you backwards, lodging shrapnel into your face and all over your body.

You let your eyes flutter closed as the screaming started.

“(Y/N)!” George bawled, witnessing the last shell of the bombardment blast the tree right next to you.

“George, get down!” Lip pushed George down into the foxhole from where he'd been peeking over to helplessly watch your unsteady advance.

George couldn't get the image of you shielding yourself at the last second out of his head. He broke free from Lipton and crawled out of his foxhole to your unmoving figure, relieved to find that you were still breathing out clouds of vapor, albeit unevenly. Your right cheek was cut and bleeding, as well as your arms, legs, torso — hell, was there anywhere you weren’t bleeding from?

He cradled your head to his, whispering that it's gonna be alright and you’re gonna be just dandy, (Y/N), even though he didn't believe those words himself. He lifted his head from yours and yelled for a medic with a hoarse voice, already scratched up from having to shout over the booming to tell Lipton that Muck and Penkala got hit.

George then realized that he had gotten extremely lucky that day; Muck and Penkala had been shelled just before he reached their foxhole, and the shell that had landed next to him and Lipton was a dud. Staring down at your bloodied form, he darkly concluded that maybe he wasn't lucky — maybe he just brought bad luck to everyone else.

Eugene seemed to materialize out of thin air at the panicked calls for a doctor and kneeled over you, ordering, “Set ‘em down, set ‘em down!” George laid you down on the icy ground, and he saw that your eyes were open now, darting around at your surroundings. You looked frightened and pained, yet when your eyes finally settled on him, you seemed somewhat at ease.

“Jesus, what did I tell you, (Y/N)?” Eugene reprimanded, but the concern in his voice was evident. He began picking out the shrapnel from your flesh, and you wailed out in agony. Ripping open a sulfa packet with his teeth, he then shook the powder onto your countless wounds.

In the back of his mind, George knew that your pained whimpers would haunt him forever if you didn't pull through, acting as the price of his "good luck".

“Told me to come back, Genie,” you smiled mirthlessly, which quickly became a wince with the gash in your cheek. The white medic band around your arm was stained the same color as the red cross on it.

Lipton was out of the foxhole at this point and assisting Eugene with bandaging your injuries. “You’ll be fine, alright? Just hang in there.”

George registered that he had only been staring, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. He intertwined his fingers with yours and squeezed your clammy hand, to which you weakly squeezed back.

Grimacing while he injected you with morphine, Eugene said to Lipton, “They’re bleeding bad, Sarge; we gotta get ‘em back to an aid station.”

George’s voice sounded far off from himself. “I’ll radio for a jeep.” As he did so, his hand still clutching yours, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the excruciation on your face. For some reason, he felt guilty.

Though it felt like years to him, the jeep arrived shortly, and the three of them carried you to the stretcher on the hood of the vehicle and gingerly placed you upon it.

Gazing down upon you on that stretcher, your face streaked with crimson, your hair matted with dried blood, George wanted to say, “I still find you beautiful, Bloody Mary," but for what felt like first time in his life, the words weren't there and the wiseass comment just refused to come out right.

What came tumbling out of his lips instead was, “I love you.”

Pausing, Lipton and Eugene exchanged a knowing look and watched with bated breath. Meanwhile, George wanted to smack himself for letting the adrenaline coursing through his veins get to him; this was definitely not what you wanted to hear — rejecting him should be the least of your worries right now.

To his utter disbelief, you smiled, in spite of yourself and the grim circumstances. “I love you too, George.”

Once his brain wrapped around the fact that you needed him as much as he needed you, he implored, "Come back to me, alright?” He gently caressed your cheek, his voice sounding different to himself with the undertone of desperation. “I—I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

You placed a feeble hand over his and turned to press a kiss to it. “I'm counting on it.”

The driver finally grew tired of the delay and urged them to get moving. George stepped away as Eugene hopped in the jeep’s shotgun seat to escort you back to the aid station.

Lighting a cigarette with trembling hands, George watched the jeep dissipate into the blanket of night.

Eugene let things sink in for a while; you were grateful for the time to rest as the morphine kicked in. When you arrived, though, you were awake enough to hear him ask again, a rare smirk hidden in his voice:

“So, you and Luz, huh?”

taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop, @joetoyesbrassknuckles101, @samwinchesterslostshoe, @fxxiva

#band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #george luz #george luz x reader #hbo war #easy company #101st airborne #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #hbo war fanfic #band of brothers imagines #rick gomez

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bullet-prooflove · 6 months

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I wish I was who you drunk texted at midnight, Wish I was the reason you stay up 'til 3, And you can't fall asleep, Waiting for me to reply I wish I was more than just someone you walk by, Wish I wasn't scared to be honest and open, Instead of just hoping, You'd feel what I'm feeling inside (This song kills me every time)

“You drunk texted me again.” Duarte says as he perches himself on edge of your desk obscuring Joe’s view of you. He doesn’t have to see Duarte’s face to know that he’s smiling, he can hear it in the other man’s voice.

You’d come in this morning wearing aviators and an expression on your face which read ‘hungover’.

“You said to let you know when I got home.” You remind him, pushing your sunglasses up into your hair before wincing at the fluorescent lighting.

“So I did.” He says before reaching into his pocket and withdrawing something silver from his pocket before placing it upon the surface of your desk as he leans in close. “You left this at my place the other night.”

Joe raises his eyes to see you pick up the pendent you wear of Saint Michael, the one your father gave you upon graduating the academy, the one you never take off. Christ, he hates this He hates the fact that you and Duarte are starting to become a thing, hates that it’s unfolding like some sort of Hallmark movie right in front of him.

Everytime, he sees the two of you together it feels like someone is plunging a knife into his chest and twisting the blade because the thing is Joe’s been in love with you for over a year now. He’s just been too chickenshit to tell you how he feels.

“Thank you.” You say to Duarte, your fingertip’s tracing lovingly over the engraving. “You have no idea how much it means to me.”

Duarte cups your chin, tilting it up so that he can meet your gaze. Joe knows what he’s looking at, you’re falling in love with the Brooklyn Gang Captain, and it breaks his heart.

“I do, mi vida.” Duarte says quietly. “Really I do.”

#joe velasco #jose velasco #joe velasco x reader #joe velasco x you #jose velasco x reader #jose velasco x you #mike duarte #mike duarte x you #mike duarte x reader #captain mike duarte

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shinhoebakuhoekitten · 11 months

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I like to think that shinsou never really understood the sexual potential of his quirk as he was growing up because he was so insecure about it in the first place because he thought it was a quirk you could only use for evil. But as he grew more confident and trained to use it work in his favor, his insecurities definitely lighten up and he’s not afraid to use it in front of others. But imagine one fateful day, maybe his friends make a casual joke to him about how they would use his quirk in bed if they had it. Shinsou proceeds to have an internal breakthrough and kinda regrets that he didn’t think of that in the first place. but it’s never too late is it? he gives some lame excuse to leave and can’t wait to get home and try it on you <3 (w/ consent ofc)

Anon with the big brain. Thank you 💕

Also, I always accept prompts/requests/thoughts fyi.

It gets brought up so causally too, imagine Shinso is out with Denki, Izuku, Bakugo and Kiri at Bakugos place for a dudes night since they hadn’t all seen each other much once they all became pro hero’s. It’s a casual Saturday night filled with gaming and booze.

Denki has a had a few too many and the already loose lip hero becomes a menace once tipsy because he does not know how to shut his damn mouth.

“I had her squirting in under a minute with a combination of my tongue and quirk. She’s already texted me to come see her tomorrow, so sounds like I’m getting lucky again.” Denki is already beginning to get a slight slur to his voice, signaling Bakugo to bring out the non alcoholic beer for him since he always got like this.

“Uh huh Denks, whatever you say.” Shinso muttered as he threw Kiris character in Smash over the platform, signaling a win.

Shinso took a swig of his beer as Kiri passed the controller over to Izuku, muttering how he never wins this damn game.

“Well what about you?” Denki starts “tried your quirk on that pretty girlfriend of yours yet or are you too chickenshit.”

A loud ‘Ha!’ Erupted from Bakugos lips as he looked to the lavender hair man, quirking his eyebrow as if to say ‘Well, have you?’

Shinso fixed the way he was sitting against the bottom of the couch as he selected his character, trying to act nonchalant as he replied

“No, I’ve actually never used my quirk on anyone because I don’t need it to fuck anyone dumb.”

A ‘Oooo’ escaped Kiris lips as Izuku looked at Shinso, shock prominent on his face.

“Really? You’ve never used it before? I figured it would make sex more thrilling.”

The game started before Shinso could reply and he allowed that time to think about what everyone was saying. It wasn’t news to anyone that when most people learned of Shinso’s quirk a lot of people assumed it would be used for villainous acts vs being a hero. Shinso guessed that he had gotten so used to everyone thinking that way that he never wanted to use it beyond hero work, even for personal pleasure.

Shinso lost quickly to Izuku. He gave his controller over to Bakugo as his phone buzzed in the pocket of his hoodie.

Miss you <3

As Shinso read the text from you he couldn’t help but smile a bit. You two had been dating just over a year and had recently moved in together, a huge first for both of you.

Reading the text made him think about the fact that maybe he did want to try his quirk in bed with you. Without thinking too much about the fact that everyone would be able to put two and two together he put his phone away and put his shoes on while telling the group that you weren’t feeling great so he was going to call it for the night.

“The sex better be worth it to ditch us early!” Kami bellowed out as Shinso closed the apartment door.

He too was hoping the same thing as he shot off a quick text to you.

I’ve got an idea that I wanna try in the bedroom tonight. See you in twenty 😉

#hopefully smut will be in part 2 #Writting smut is so hard for me sometimes #sorry #my hero academia #mha #mha shinso hitoshi #shinso hitoshi x reader #Shinso smut #mha smut #my hero academia smut

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casdeans-pie · 8 months

Text

Part 4 of Flustered Castiel Accidentally Explodes Lightbulbs And Causes Power Outages Especially When Dean's Fingers Are In His Hair

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3.

Happy birthday to me! This is my birthday gift to myself so it's deliciously self indulgent for the final part. I honestly could have just kept going with this forever, I adore flustered!Cas and his angel powers lmao

This part got so big I couldn't put the whole chapter in the tumblr post sorry!

Taglist: @dreampencil , @mymisfitsbabe , @fivefeetfangirl , @kerryweaverlesbian , @give-bucky-his-boyfriend-back , @mooshroomister , @castielsbloodynose , @the-great-pumpkin-67 , @casavanse , @homoangel - thanks all for your interest, hope you like the conclusion!!

-----Read on AO3-----

---------

If stubbornness was a sin, Dean knew he would be going straight to hell when he died. Again.

There were a million reasons that Dean could think of for why Cas had distanced himself (that buzzed around his brain like insistent bees whenever he lay down to sleep at night) but if they didn’t talk about them then none of them were real. The ache in his chest at Cas’s absence, familiar from when he used to leave them for stretches at a time, felt like it dug in deeper and deeper with every passing day – but he still just couldn’t bring himself to talk to him about it.

The biggest surprise became the slow realisation that the saying ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ wasn’t just some made up cliché bullshit that people said to each other, because seeing Cas, even briefly before he scurried away, made Dean’s heart sing like a lovesick teenage girl.

Sam only suffered through so much before he started using his Sad-Sam-Eyes whenever he saw them both, hoping they would finally sort out whatever was going on between them, but he didn’t mention it otherwise. Somehow that made it even worse. If Sam told them to talk to each other, at least that could have been a good excuse. But no.

Dean had to do something on his own.

He had to.

He’d started all of this by being a jerk about Cas’s powers, so it was time to dip into that Dean Winchester Courage, have a real conversation about all of this, and face losing his best friend – the Angel that he loved – head on.

------

Then they finally had a hunt together. Alone.

Dean’s bloody machete hung in a loose grip by his side as he kicked the toe of his boot at the decapitated body on the ground beside him. The head lay nearby.

“Think we finally got ‘em all,” Dean said with a grin. His clothes were covered in splashes of blood, and he could feel some drying on his cheek that he was itching to scratch off with his nail. “I love a good vamp nest clear-out, but if I’d have known there were gonna be this many, I would’ve brought Sam as extra back-up.” Dean didn’t want to mention that the reason he’d told Sam to stay behind in the first place was because he’d finally stopped being chickenshit scared about sorting this thing out with Cas. “Not that we didn’t handle it.” He gestured towards the headless bodies scattered around them with his machete.

Cas didn’t reply. He’d been quiet in the ride over and had kept his distance for the whole fight.

Okay. Time’s up. Time to do this. Dean took a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes. “Cas, listen-”

“Dean!” Cas yelled, slamming into him just as the sound of a gunshot exploded nearby.

Dean went hurtling down as another gunshot rang out. He landed heavily – the floor winded him and disorientated him enough that he couldn’t get straight back up, and he shook his head rapidly to try to clear it.

There were sounds of Cas wrestling with the vampire nearby. Dean watched dazedly as the vampire snarled and bared his fangs as he threw a punch at Cas’s nose, and his fist connected with a thud. But that gave Cas the opportunity to wrench the gun out of the vampire’s weakened grasp, and he tossed it aside, making it skitter harmlessly across the floor into a dark corner of the warehouse.

Red bloomed through the top of Cas’s trench coat on his left shoulder.

“Cas!” Dean warned, finally scrambling to his feet just as the vampire grabbed Cas and threw him down with a hiss onto the dusty, blood-spattered floor.

The vampire loomed over him with an open mouth full of needle-sharp teeth just as Cas sat up with a grunt and threw up his hand with his palm out. Dean recognised the gesture, and he immediately braced himself for the blinding light of Cas’s angelic smitey powers, but only a faint sputtering glow emerged from his hand.

After a moment, where Cas stared at his hand in confusion, the vampire hissed and lunged.

He never got any further.

Dean’s machete swung in a clean shining arc through the vampire’s neck, and he collapsed in a heap like a puppet with cut strings. The spray of blood caught Cas, smattering his face and hair with even more crimson alongside what currently trickled out of his nose and soaked his shoulder.

Dean groaned in relief and threw the machete to the concrete floor with a clang. “Definitely the last one,” he declared with a deep breath. “Damn that got close for a second there. Come on, up you get.” Dean offered out a hand to help Cas, but he pushed himself up with a groan instead, pointedly not looking at the hand as if he hadn’t noticed it.

Dean tried to shrug it off again, just like he had all the other times that Cas refused to touch him recently, but he could feel the hurt burning in his throat and behind his eyes. He clenched his fist so tightly it almost hurt as he returned it to his side.

“You okay?” Dean asked instead with a frown, thinking of the gunshots, and noticing the blood stain on Cas’s shoulder increasing in size.

“Yes. The first bullet got me, but the second bullet missed. I think it went clean through. Didn’t hit anything vital.” Cas touched his shoulder and winced, then observed Dean – his blue eyes raking him up and down from head to foot. “What about you? Are you hurt?”

Dean shook his head, the mixture of hurt and concern and happiness at the closest attention he’d got from Cas in weeks making his words come out harsher than he intended when he snapped, “Nope. My bullet-proof friend pushed me out of the way, and then revealed that he’s not so bullet-proof today.”

Cas smiled ruefully. “Ah. Yes. Looks that way.” He dusted his trench coat off as best he could and lifted an arm to wipe his sleeve across his nose – though he only succeeded in smearing the dust and blood around. He closed his eyes and rubbed again.

Dean pushed down his confusing cocktail of emotions, like he always did, and forced on a smile. “You’re just making it worse, buddy. Why’s killing vamps always such a bloody job?” He reached over without thinking, while Cas was still rubbing at his nose. “Nose doesn’t look broken at least, but your shoulder’s probably gonna need stitches while you’re low on power like this.”

Dean’s fingers had barely even grazed the fabric on Cas’s shoulder before Cas flinched back violently.

The lights in the warehouse groaned and buzzed as they flickered and dimmed, and then just as quickly returned to normal.

Cas’s eyes were wide as he took another step back.

Dean felt all his confusion sharpen into a frustrated stab of white-hot anger. He gestured violently at the ceiling. “Okay. Y’know what. That’s it. Let’s talk. What the hell is going on with you, Cas? Why have you been avoiding me? What’s the deal with the lights?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Nothing you need to know about.”

“Nothing I- are you even hearing yourself right now? You’re really gonna admit to keeping secrets again after everything we’ve been through? And- hey, what’s up with your face? What are you doing?”

Cas had screwed his eyes together so tight that it pinched his whole expression. “Concentrating.”

“On what? This conversation that you’re trying not to be in?”

“On using my Grace to heal my shoulder and clean all of this off, but it’s not…” Cas gritted his teeth and opened his eyes. They glowed faintly. “It’s not working.”

Dean took a deep breath and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Shit, Cas. You know you’re low on power right now, you really want to use up what little juice you got left before you get chance to recharge? The motel’s only twenty minutes away.” He scowled. “You can even sit in the back. Far away from me, like you want.”

Dean didn’t wait for a response, he turned, reached down for his abandoned machete, and stalked back to Baby.

By the time Cas finally got into the car – in the back – Dean had already texted Sam to tell him that the nest had been cleared out and they would be spending the night at the motel.

They’d be back at the bunker tomorrow, and then Cas could keep avoiding him like before. Or maybe he’d finally just admit that he wanted to leave… and he’d go. The thought made Dean clench the steering wheel with a grip that made his knuckles white.

He couldn’t imagine his life without Cas in it.

The ride to the motel was tense and silent except for Baby’s engine that Dean pushed harder than he should. (The twenty-minute ride only took them ten. Cas didn’t comment on it.)

As soon as they were through the door Dean toed off his shoes, flicked on all the lights, and went to wash his hands in the bathroom. He didn’t look back to see what Cas was doing. It was none of his business. If he didn’t want to talk about it, then what did he care. (He tried to tell himself, even as the ache in his chest pounded and felt cavernous.)

Dean splashed some water on his face and gripped the sides of the grubby sink. Water plinked pink from his chin into the chipped basin, as the vampire blood washed away down the plughole.

After a deep breath Dean grabbed a towel and rubbed it over his face, careful not to inhale at the same time – he’d learned a long time ago that it was best not to know what motel towels smelt like – and reached for the first aid kit he always left in the bathroom when they went on hunts.

Sufficiently calmed down, and feeling less like his heart was caught in the vice grip of a homicidal ghost, Dean turned and emerged back into the main room. He froze mid-step at what he saw: Cas had his head in his hands, perched on the edge of his bed, while the blood stains from his bullet wound were soaking through his coat down his arm. He hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, and there seemed to be a particularly troubled tenseness to the set of his shoulders. Even more than usual. Despite their strained relationship recently, it cut Dean deeply to see him like that – so clearly suffering and so human.

Dean sat heavily onto his own bed opposite Cas. The old springs creaked loudly and protested at the sudden weight. “Alright. Coat off.”

Cas startled and snapped his head up. The lamp beside his bed flickered weakly. “What?”

Dean’s usual enthusiasm for the phenomenon of the flickering lights wasn’t his priority this time, and he pushed his curiosity aside. “Stitches,” Dean said simply, brandishing the first aid kit.

“I don’t need them,” Cas grumbled, looking away. “Once my Grace has recharged enough it will heal on its own.”

“Oh okay, so you’re just going to wait and see if your mojo recharges faster than you bleed? And you’re, what, expecting me to just sit here while we find out? Because I am not okay with that.”

“Yes.”

“Cas. Just let me put some damn stitches in your damn shoulder.”

“No.” The muscles in Cas’s jawline clenched.

Dean scowled as he ran a hand through his hair. It was sticky and matted with drying blood, but that was nothing new. “Let me put it this way. You either take off your coat and shirt willingly, or I will tackle you to that bed and remove them myself” – the lamp flickered again – “so help me God, don’t think that I won’t. Your choice.” Dean had his eyes locked on Cas’s narrowed ones. “I will not let you suffer when I can do something about it. Yeah, you might heal it up yourself in an hour or two, but I’m not going to sit here watching you bleeding and in pain, when I can help. Don’t ask me to.”

“Dean… This is just… It’s a bad idea.”

“A bad idea? To stop you from bleeding out? C’mon man, you’re always healing me up after hunts, let me repay the favor for once. Besides, you took the shot meant for me – it should be me sitting there with the bullet hole.”

Cas went suddenly pale, and his eyebrows drew together in a serious line. “If it were, I would use up whatever Grace I had left to heal you.”

Oh.

Dean blinked in surprise.

Huh. But Cas had been avoiding him so much lately... He’d assumed he didn’t care anymore. “Uh,” Dean faltered, “no, that wouldn’t be okay either. I wouldn’t want that. But maybe I should teach you some basic first aid now that your mojo gets patchy sometimes.” He shook his head. That would require them to be in the same room for more than five minutes. Stupid suggestion. “Look, if you’d want to heal me that badly if we were swapped over here, that’s what I want to do to you right now, get it?”

“I um. I think so.” The line between Cas’s eyebrows grew deeper. “It’s fine now anyway. It barely hurts,” he lied, gripping his shoulder tightly.

“Sure. Okay, Black Knight.”

Cas squinted.

“The Black Knight – ‘‘tis but a flesh wound’? Guess you didn’t get Monty Python in the pop-culture upload. We’ll add it to the list we-” But Dean remembered that they didn’t watch movies together anymore. “Doesn’t matter. Just take your damn coat off, you stubborn son of a bitch.”

That finally cracked a smile onto Cas’s pale face. His lips twitched and the corners of his eyes crinkled endearingly.

Dean felt a strong flare of affection at seeing Cas’s smile, after seeing him looking so defeated before, that it immediately softened all of Dean’s concern-masked-as-irritation and he found himself smiling back. He’d missed this. So damn much.

“I’ll patch you up,” Dean said gently, “then you get dibs on the first shower, since you’re the one covered in the most blood. Winchester tradition.”

“I don’t need-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, you can just magic your mess away when your power’s back on, but you’re really just gonna sit here like that until then?”

Cas looked down at himself. “You have a point.”

“Always do. Looks like you’ll just have to enjoy shitty motel water pressure like the rest of us.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows. “And going first means you get the hottest water.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said.

“Then we can both go to sleep so you can recharge your batteries. You can sleep when you’re like this, right? But stitches first. After that there’ll be no touching involved,” Dean added, before he could stop himself. As much as he enjoyed talking to Cas again, it only served as a depressing reminder that they weren’t like this anymore. He gave a sad, weak little laugh, and even he could hear the pain in his voice when he said, “Y’don’t even have to look at me.”

Cas immediately slid off his bed with a rustle, and he was on his knees in front of Dean in the time it took for him to open his mouth to ask what was happening. His eyes shined wetly in the dingy motel room lighting as he gazed up intensely – vulnerable and raw – into Dean’s eyes. “Dean, no. This wasn’t supposed to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you,” Cas said in a voice thick with emotion. “Doing this – distancing myself… It was supposed to make things better, but it… only made everything worse. I hate being apart from you. I hate it. This wasn’t- it’s not- it’s not your fault.” He spoke haltingly, like he was struggling. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I- I don’t know how to explain-”

They were closer than they had been in weeks, and yet Dean could still feel the distance. His heart sunk. “This is starting to feel a whole lot like the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech, man.”

Cas scrunched his face up, and Dean knew he was trying to think of a way to say what he meant. He wondered if Angels weren’t very big talkers in their true forms. It was reminiscent of when they first met, and how Cas used to struggle with sarcasm and slang.

Cas already told him once that he’d only started to feel real, strong emotions (Dean called them his Real Boy Feelings) since rescuing him from Hell, so it made sense that he still struggled sometimes. And anyway, Dean had been human his whole life and it wasn’t like he was much better at the whole sharing your feelings crap.

Cas finally looked up through his lashes at him – his expression wary. “Hold out your hand, Dean.”

“What?”

“Hold out your hand, please. I can show you what’s been going on.”

---- Read the rest on AO3 ----

#this series has been so much fun to write!!! thanks for all the kind comments!!!#destiel #destiel fanfiction #destiel ficlet #deancas #castiel's angel powers #flustered!castiel #pie's projects #my fanfiction

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memestockpile · 3 months

Text

the holdovers (2023) feel free to change as needed.

these are for you.

they're your mother's panties. tell her thanks for the good times!

you stole my fucking cigarettes.

i resent that baseless accusation.

cut the shit.

i don't indulge in pornography. i get enough of the real thing.

this shit's premium weed, all right?

i can't believe you got out of it.

we don't talk about those things.

there's a nice little bonus in it for you.

that boy is too dumb to pour piss out of a boot.

at least pretend to be a human being.

are you fucking kidding me?

tone it down. jesus can hear you.

you know how lonely i've been.

fresh air will do you good.

adversity builds character.

this is the most bullshit ever.

don't be such a pussy.

civil disobedience, man.

your mind's a cesspool and a shallow one at that.

rich and dumb. popular combination around here.

you homesick?

that's why you grind everybody. deep down, you know you're an asshole.

life is like a henhouse ladder: shitty and short.

you don't know the newlywed game? what planet have you been living on?

everybody should be with their people on christmas.

sharp kid. insightful.

that's what you get for ratting me out!

i had a nightmare.

friends are overrated.

this is not exactly a face forged for romance.

i like being alone. i've always found myself drawn to the aesthetic.

if you could go anywhere on earth, where would you go?

you can't even dream a whole dream, can you?

it is absolutely my business. i'm looking after you.

i don't know what you're playing at, but you are courting disaster!

without exercise, the body devours itself.

you said you washed your hands of me.

i meant it metaphorically.

you're gonna get me fired.

the good news is nothing's broken, but you did dislocate your shoulder pretty badly.

this all remains entre nous.

do not try to leverage me.

they've got miller high life. the champagne of beers.

listen, you hormonal vulgarian, that woman deserves your respect, not your erotic speculation.

thanks for fucking up my mojo.

hey, sport, my eyes are up here.

you smell. like fish.

you're out of your mind.

okay, maybe it's fine for you to sit around here and read books all day, but i'm losing my goddamn mind.

watch your mouth, young man.

if you're too chickenshit to go to this party, then just say that.

every child is an artist. the problem is remaining an artist when we grow up.

who put you in charge of the music?

i'm not gonna do this if you're not gonna take it seriously.

the world doesn't make sense anymore.

you're a very sweet person.

do you think i want to be babysitting you?

what the fuck is wrong with you?

it's like the bible, the quran, and the bhagavad gita all rolled up into one.

i'll go pack.

you've never had sex, have you?

the details would curl your toes.

there's nothing new in human experience. each generation thinks it invented debauchery or suffering or rebellion.

history is not simply the study of the past, it is an explanation of the present.

what i say during a private conversation is none of your goddamn business.

just trying to keep you on your toes.

get up, kid. it's daylight.

is that rye toast? how'd you know i like rye toast?

you're a pretty good teacher, kid.

you conniving little shit.

...hello, sweetheart!

i don't have any friends. real friends.

i lie. i steal. i piss people off.

no one is his own father.

your history does not dictate your destiny.

i find the world a bitter and complicated place, and it seems to feel the same way about me. i think you and i have this in common.

you're just a kid. you're just beginning. and you're smart. you've got time to turn things around.

let's get you a slice of cake or some other age appropriate dessert.

christ on a crutch.

where do you stand on indoor fireworks?

that's too much paprika.

you did this to yourself, [name], not me.

you are and always have been penis cancer in human form.

i missed you at breakfast.

so, did you decide where you're going to?

i'm not like you. i like having a job.

we could grab a burger and a beer.

keep your head up, all right?

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night-market-if · 5 months

Note

Hello hi, chickenshit anon here! Just saying, I've read the book2 demo and if people are already griping at you in asks, then fuck'em. Periodt. 😁 we literally haven't done anything other than spy on the past and make new friends... Also I still want to hold Milo and kith his dumb forehead after my MC gets over her fun new trauma and sits his ass down for a ♥️2♥️ Kthnx can't wait for more!! 🥰

I laughed out loud at seeing the chickenshit anon comment. Thank you for that. :)

But yes, to sum up Chapter One. MC is a creeper. And then gets some new friends. To potentially creep on later.

Kidding!

Or am I.

#the night market #interactive fiction #book 2 #the mc #artisan alley crew

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 7 months

Note

Just read part 2!!! It’s great! I love that the ace character is so brave in the end, and states those boundaries… as a chickenshit ace myself, I would have probably either not gone at all, or made excuses and dashed out much sooner. But she was honest, so like, good for her! (Uhhh quick question is it a her? Or up to the reader??)

Thank you so much for sending this to me. I can’t tell you how much it made my day. I was really nervous while writing it, so I’m so happy it came across well on the page.

And I leave gender to the reader, although admittedly all my reader inserts end up reading as feminine if that makes any sense.

I Want It All: Part 2

#comment #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3

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claymorexpunisher · 1 year

Text

She Might Be Your Girl (But She's Calling Me Daddy) (Rhea Ripley x OFC!Harper) (18+ Fic) (Pt. 2/3)

Not me being frustrated with my own character LMAO! Good God Almighty WHY IS SHE LIKE THIS?!

Will Rhea turn out to be right about Danny or is she just petty? 🤔

Next chapter is most likely the last and it's gonna be juicyyyy (and spicy of course!)

Enjoy! 💙 And thank you for being patient with me (and Harper's stupid ass! 🥴)

(gif made by me)

Disclaimer: All of the characters in this work of fiction are consenting adults. If the type of content I write isn't your cup of tea, do not read it.

Summary: Harper and Rhea have gotten themselves into a messy arrangement that threatens to tear them apart... Will either of them get their shit together??... STILL not in this chapter! 😹

Tags: 18+, mentions of Daddy Kink, consensual sex, friends with benefits to lovers, angst. Looots of angst. And stupidity between two adults who are too chickenshit to just talk things through. You've been warned...

Word Count: 1,511

I 100% didn’t wanna go to dinner with Rhea, Danny, and everyone else.

I’ve had this sinking feeling in my stomach since I agreed to Rhea’s invitation, and that feeling has only grown since.

Something in Rhea’s demeanor made me feel like things could go south at the dinner real fuckin quick…

And again, I questioned things.

I couldn’t even begin to fathom why Rhea seemed a bit snarky when it came to Daniel, but it was beginning to get on my nerves.

In the last few days, I couldn’t bring Danny up without Rhea having some bullshit to say even though she claimed that we were cool.

Two seconds away from texting Rhea and coming with an excuse to cancel the whole thing, I saw my phone light up on my bedside table with a text from Corbs.

As of late, he’s been thoroughly enjoying the drama that has ensued.

Just by looking at him, I knew he was saying ‘’I told you so’’.

But I couldn’t think of that.

I couldn’t think that Rhea could even possibly feel the same way I did.

Why? I don’t know.

But the thought terrified me as much as it filled me with happiness.

It was a fuckin weird position to be in.

Sometimes I wished that I could fess up to Rhea, but something always held me back.

Laughing to myself, I did just that and sleep a little bit more soundly.

As much as we liked to bust each other’s balls, Corbs and I trusted each other with our lives and I knew that despite him acting like a gossiping ole lady, he always had my best interest at heart.

If shit hit the fan at this dinner, I’d deal with it.

As I got dressed earlier, I felt like I was in a bit of a haze.

I didn’t wanna overdo it since we weren’t going to a particularly fancy restaurant, so I settled for a Motionless in White muscle tee, some ripped jeans, lipstick, a cute purse and some cute heels.

I didn’t even think as I was getting dressed, but I wasn’t going to make that mistake again…

‘’Why are you so nervous? They’re not meeting you for the first time.’’ Danny chuckled and rubbed my thigh affectionately as he drove us to Applebees and my knee bounced anxiously up and down.

The closer we got to the restaurant; I felt a shred of that anxiety return.

This felt wrong.

Just wrong.

But I wanted things to work out with Danny.

I really did… I think?

No, I liked Danny.

And naturally, I wanted my friends to like him too.

‘’I’m not nervous! I’m just hungry.’’ I lied, sticking my tongue out playfully.

‘’Goin as fast as I can, babe.’’ Danny chuckled again as he spun the steering wheel smoothly and made a left. ‘’Are they there already?’’ He asked before I pulled my phone out from my purse to ask my friends just that.

My stomach flipped a little when I looked at my phone to see that Rhea and Corbs were already there.

The second we arrived, the fuckshit began…

As Rhea eyes scanned my body up and down, and I saw her eyes zero in on my slightly oversized tee, my stomach sank.

There was recognition in her eyes.

A realization that made me realize my silly mistake.

The smirk on her face was very much like the cat who was just about to eat the canary and I immediately put 2 and 2 together, but it was too late.

‘’Oh! I was wondering where that shirt went. Good to know its in safe its in safe hands,’’ she said and winked at me before she settled back into the booth and lazily sipped her drink.

I could feel my face heat up and Danny’s grip on my hand went a bit slack.

I gave it a squeeze, but I said nothing.

The shirt was just fuckin comfortable, okay?

Her comment was completely unnecessary.

‘Oh, shut up. You know you love wearing something of hers. You always have. It makes you feel… hers.’’ That pesky voice in the back of my head piped in for the 28248438th time in the last few months.

‘’We already ordered drinks since we got here a bit early.’’ Baron said to Danny and me after he introduced himself to fill the silence.

‘’Oh ok!’’ I replied and I awkwardly slid into the booth next to Danny and across from Rhea.

When the boys arrived, the agony continued.

‘’So, you guys met on the road?’’ Dom asked, looking between me and Danny who stood almost rim-rod straight in the booth.

The tension between him and Rhea could be cut with a chainsaw, and I wanted nothing more than to run out of there and go home and cuddle with a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.

‘’We did. When you guys came to Missouri, Harper and I ran into each other at a bookstore. I was there shopping with my little sister. She actually recognized Harper,’’ Danny laughed, and I blushed.

Rhea’s eyes went to me before landing back on Danny.

‘’We got to talkin’ and here we are.’’ Danny smiled at me.

I gave him a small smile that I tried to mean, then I focused back on my food.

‘’Harper didn’t mention that. So modest.’’ Rhea said while Finn, Corbin and Dom sat back and pretty much watched this all unfold.

This was starting to feel like a trainwreck I couldn’t stop.

‘’Are you fan of pro wrestling?’’ Damian asked Danny.

His tone or demeanor weren’t unkind, but I could see him observing Danny closely.

Damian was as easygoing as he was observant, not much went past him.

‘’My little sister is more so than me. I haven’t watched any of the shows in a minute. Sorry!’’ Daniel cringed playfully, making everyone laugh softly.

Except Rhea, of course.

‘’Really? That’s odd… your Instagram says that you were at the last years’ Rumble. And the year after that… and the one after that too. Seems a bit much for not being a fan.’’ She said, raising a brow slightly as Daniel stammered before he recovered.

‘’Well like I said, my sister loves watching. And her birthday usually falls around that time. So, I took her to a couple Royal Rumbles,’’ he shrugged.

But Rhea wouldn’t let up and I had had enough.

‘’So why isn’t she in any of those pos-‘’ She started to go back in until I held a hand up.

‘’Rhea, can I talk to you for a sec?’’ I smiled politely, getting up with her and dumping my napkin onto the table.

Danny’s flustered reaction did raise some alarm bells, I’ll admit.

But I still thought that Rhea was outta order.

‘’What the hell’s your problem with Danny? Ever since you’ve known of his existence you’ve done nothing but act like a complete douche about him. What is wrong?’’ I asked, crossing my arms over my chest, and leaned against the wall of the hallway leading into the ladies’ bathroom.

‘’I don’t trust him.’’ Rhea shrugged and I scoffed.

‘’On what grounds? Because his little sister isn’t plastered on his Instagram? She’s a child, Rhea! Maybe her parents don’t want her face all over the internet. Ever thought of that?!’’ I exclaimed before I remembered we were in public, and I lowered my voice.

‘’He’s a gym bro, he’s been to a couple shows- and not just Rumbles- and he’s claiming that he doesn’t watch any of it? Gimme a break, Harper. You can’t be this dense…’’ Rhea said impatiently, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

I squinted at her, jolting back a bit.

‘’Are you implying… are you implying that Danny’s only with me to get a foot in the door in the business?’’ I asked, my jaw dropping a bit at her bluntness and a little bit hurt.

Seeing the hurt in my eyes, Rhea grabbed my hand.

Just that small touch felt like heaven despite how irritated I was, and I once again remembered where we were.

And more importantly, with whom.

‘’Babe, I’m only looking out for you. I’m not getting good vibes, that’s all… but if you want me to back off, I’ll back off.’’ She murmured.

I knew some part of her did mean well.

But she wasn’t going about it in the best way, and I wasn’t about to let that slide.

I’ve let too much slide from her as it is.

Though I’ll admit I felt like a giant hypocrite.

Deep down I knew that I was only defending Danny this hard because I wanted to keep living this bullshit lie.

But nobody had to know that.

‘’Good. No more snide shitty comments, no more incessant questions… just, no more. Okay?’’ I demanded.

Rhea nodded, agreeing to behave for the rest of the evening.

And she did.

Little did I know things were about to come to an explosive halt soon…

Part 3

@theworldofotps @midnightliv @sunnyfleur23 @imswitchbabemox @romanstheory @thesamoanqueen @gold--gucciempress @pauwiee @sitha101 @ace-anoai-varnado @meme-queen-1999 @bbyfacebunn @racerchix21 @omgimadeangirl @icydarling @wrestlezaynia @celticbadass @selena1451 @qualitybailiffdeanfish @kg003 @rickysobsession @skits90s @alexa-blissed @kayfabebabe @harold2244 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @redripping @multifxndomimxgines @bbgirlresha @pitlissa22 @omg-im-such-a-masochist @watchermink17 @blondekel77 @writinglionqueen @jazzy-tzw @jordyn-laufeyson @queenj2021 @aews-four-pillars @denise63089 @badassbitchhoebakugo @jasminereigns174 @waywardwrestlewritingwaif @twistedbeautifully @spookys-girl @new-zealand-chic @ziasaph @chynagirl13 @thebookwormcat @haileysmall2005 @riveliciousx

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea x harper #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley fic #wwe smut #wwe fic #wwe fanfic #wrestling fic #wrestling smut #wwe fan fiction

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bengiyo · 11 months

Text

Be My Favorite Ep 1 Stray Thoughts

I debated whether I’d do Stray Thoughts about this. I have old fan beef with Krist, but I am trying to be forgiving because he has had time to reflect. I hope his skill have improved as well. I do not promise to stick with this show. If I am having a bad time, I will not be continuing. With that out of the way, let’s begin.

We only have one sponsor on the opening card? The Eclipse and A Boss and a Babe had only one, Vice Versa had ten. What happened recently??

Not them coming for philosophy classes right out the gate!

I haven’t seen Aye in a while. I’ve always liked the way she moves in her characters.

I like that Kawi’s clothes don’t seem to fit him right.

Oh…. Kawi’s eyes and smiles don’t match. It reads sinister. He’s doing all these secret messages and gifting, but he hasn’t approached her? Does she even know he likes her or wants to be friends?

I want to be understanding, because I get being a Humanities student and also being broke. Still, you can be real with people and hang out with them by being upfront about your broke status.

This man really gave up on telling Pearmai he liked her because a snow globe broke, and now we have to watch him be sad 12 years later? Girl, bye.

I get being frustrated that someone claimed the benefits of the flirting he’d been doing with Pearmai, but also… that’s on him for being too chickenshit to say anything. Now we’re listening to him whine about losing his first love? I’m over him already.

Okay, it is funny that he’s working hard at creating subtitles and is making no real money. Feels kinda effed for a GMMTV character trait though.

I don’t think anyone has to drink, especially with the heavy drinking common in shows across SE Asia. Still, there’s a component to sharing in the overall group experience by at least participating in their toasts and dancing.

Suddenly, it’s the beginning of Lovesick, with some dude hitting his girlfriend outside of a bar.

Even the smile in the wedding fantasy looks off.

Thank you, magical man on the park bench, for getting the plot moving.

Kob Songsit stays busy. I feel like we see this man every month.

“I didn’t want her to be sad, and I didn’t want people to think you’re the antisocial type who would leave her hanging,” are kinda valid reasons. If Kawi wasn’t so head up his own ass, he’d probably be more curious about how ole boy knew he was her secret buddy.

Okay, Pisaeng is clearly showing off for Kawi.

Kawi is at least entertaining when he’s being over the top.

I suppose we’ll forgive the theft since he thinks he’s dreaming?

I wonder if we’ll return to this intervention on a domestic violence situation, because it feels like they want to reassure us that Kawi is maybe an alright dude outside of his obsessive devotion to Pearmai?

Ah, so Pisaeng was trying to take care of Kawi in the past?

Well, it wasn’t horrible, but I wasn’t impressed. I will probably stick with it for another episode.

#be my favorite #be my favorite meta #thai bl #bl series #Ben watches

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birdkeeperklink · 8 months

Text

9 people you'd like to get to know better

last song: "Take Him Down to the Beach" - David Hirschfelder

favourite colour: I don't play favorites with colours 😉

currently watching: The Saddle Club, because I'm 12 at heart, plus it's just a gentle show to go to sleep to.

last movie: Jurassic World Dominion extended cut

currently reading: TOO MANY THINGS - two textbooks for classes, I'm still reading Tigana (it is a heavy read, not to be rushed), I started rereading GoT, and several fanfics, because apparently I just hate my brain and want to overload it, lol

sweet/spicy/savory: sweet and savory - chicken and honey are a match made in heaven. I'm on a kick right now of combining honey with everything to see if I like it, so I guess more sweet lately. On that note, peanut butter, honey, and apple sandwiches are amazing.

relationship status: single, and it will stay that way permanently ❤️

current obsession: Alan/Ellie, please, I need more content that isn't smut, it's the tender feeling of reuniting lost loves and finally finally finally having some good older people romance and it's honestly like can I please have all the Jurassic movies after the original one cut down to 'the Alan and Ellie cut,' and I know it only ended up being an amazing story by accident, but honestly it doesn't matter, the whole 6th movie should have just been them uuuggghhh ❤️❤️😭🤐

last thing i googled: I don't use Google, but the last thing I searched for was local print shops.

currently working on: Homework for my two classes. I just finished a Bagginshield story for my bestie for her birthday, and I'm not going to start the Christmas one for her just yet. I'm going to take a little break from writing for a couple of weeks and just do schoolwork.

Thank you @goobzoop for tagging me, and sorry it took me so long 😘

Wow, nine people is a lot.... I will tag....

@the-chickenshit-oddity @lovethistoomuch @mourningroutine @rosietherivendell @asublimehimbo @salsedine @worldiary @cupric-solution @lenievi

No pressure, though 😘

#tag game #tag meme

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udunie · 9 months

Note

“It was trying on the bones it collected like a magpie trying to decorate a nest.” - I got actual CHILLS that line really got me, such a good new chapter nini!! You’re a really natural horror writer, it’s obvs super gross what you’re writing but I’m also fascinated, it’s such a visceral description that I can’t stop reading!

I also wanted to say, I’m glad you said what you said about feeling pressure to finish or continue old fics. You absolutely don’t owe anyone anything, we’re already exceptionally treated by your writing and all the fics you’ve given us, and I do hope you feel like you can continue writing because you WANT to, not because of the pressure to constantly make new stuff or finish off old stuff. You’re an exceptional writer, I’ve been a fan for a long while, and I’m grateful for every little tidbit you want to share! You don’t owe your audience anything, we’re just glad we get what we do, so thank you for being so talented and i hope you feel able to share whatever you want to no matter what it is with us <3

Nonnie, thank you so much for your lovely words, I'm happy you're enjoying the fic so far! (well, as much as it can be enjoyed lol)

I'm actually having a lot of fun with it, which is hilarious considering that I've never watched a horror movie in my life lol

I'm waaaaay too chickenshit to watch anything even moderately scary/gross - but I do sometimes read the plot on wikipedia if I'm intrigued about a horror movie 🤣

I'm working on the next chapter right now, so if any of you guys want to talk about what you would like to see/what parts of the fic you like etc I would be very happy to hear it!

And thank you for being so understanding, I love to share stuff with you guys, cause you're all awesome and lovely and it feels a little easier when I know I can take my time...

#ask box #thank you anon #and all of you who sent an ask about this #it really made me feel better about my disaster self

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peppershark · 2 years

Text

Eddie Munson absolutely imagined Chrissy Cunningham in his fantasy mind palace

A snippet of a forthcoming #hellcheer fic written by your very own Pepper.

The lake’s depths begin to shimmer and glow gold. With a mighty rush, she bursts from the deep.

Radiance.

Hair streaming with water and light, she races by him in half the form of a maiden, half a shimmering mare the color of morning.

Eddie whirls around.

He tears after her through the wood, bracken and branches whipping at his face.

“…Mr. Munson.”

The forest vanishes, clattering hooves recede in the distance.

O’Donnell has an expo marker pointed at the whiteboard. Her face pinches like a withered pear.

Unamused.

“How would you solve this polynomial equation?”

Papers shuffle somewhere across the room; the classroom watches him, breath held.

Shit. Shit.

The digits tease him from the board. Vexing symbols, always such little assholes. They never obey his eyes under the gun like this.

He bounces one knee under the desk.

Remedial Algebra is poised to crush his spirit, but Eddie the Warrior will not yield.

He sucks in a breath.

“The question is not how, Miss O’Donnell, but why,” he intones.

His plastic chair squeaks, measuring his earnest lean forward.

“Of all the meaningless pursuits in modern existence, is not the endless infatuation with this elusive X the greatest enemy to our happiness?”

The teacher’s crochet-sweatered arm drops to her sides.

“Are you going to solve the problem, Mr. Munson, or will Principal Higgins be seeing you this afternoon?”

Eddie squints up at the chickenshit numerals.

“Speak ‘friend’ and enter,” he mutters.

It’s detention, again.

{Thank you for reading. You can subscribe to my AO3 page and get notified when I post the whole story: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppershark}

#eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #hellcheer #eddie x chrissy #eddissy #edissy #munningham #stranger things #witch of the westmorland #eddie is teen-aged calvin from 'calvin and hobbes' and you can't convince me otherwise

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g4yr4t · 9 months

Text

I think I want to talk About It but it's gonna be trigger heavy so I'm putting it under the cut

when I say talk about it I don't necessarily mean that anyone needs to respond so don't feel the need. you can if you want to but writing about it might be enough for now.

anyway. the Monday or Tuesday after mother's day weekend I got a call from my mom telling me that her best friend, my godmother, and her husband had both committed suicide. they were in Chicago so there was no way for my mom to see them physically for a while beforehand. she had been friends with my godmother since high school, and her husband since college. my godmother was my mom's Annie and it literally breaks my heart to think that she lost that.

my mom knew something was up bc my godmother hadn't responded to her in a while. she had to call her husband's sister (of whom she is not a big fan) to get the news. the last message my mom sent to my godmother was asking her to please talk to her, even if everything wasn't okay, but she never got a message back.

it doesn't feel fair. my godmother and my husband were wonderful loving people. she was so funny and fiesty. she had chronic pain for a really long time and depression for God knows how long. I only got to see them a couple of times outside my childhood but my godmother was always sending me books and gifts and emails. I feel awful for never having the energy to respond to her. I was gonna tell her about my satanic panic obsession bc she would've been interested. I was gonna read the last book she sent me (on earth we're briefly gorgeous) but I had barely started reading again and didn't get around to it. once I apologized for not responding to her emails and she told me not to apologize unless we'd really hurt each other.

I haven't really cried about it since the day of. it's been easy to go about my normal life because I didn't see them or talk to them regularly. it's easy not to think about it but I haven't really processed it even now. but sometimes I hear my mom's voice echoing in my head, giving me the news over and over.

I have all these morbid curiosities about it. how it happened, when they decided. was this a plan they'd had for a while? did they go together or did one go first and the other couldn't handle it? none of these answers would help. they might make things worse. but my brain can't stop asking questions. I don't even know if there was a funeral and my mom didn't tell me bc we couldn't go. it pains me to think that there wouldn't be one. that there would be shame around their passing.

it hurts my heart, so I try not to think about it, but I have to help my mom process too and not be chickenshit about it. it's worse for her than it is for me, and it is already bad for me. they talked all the time. I can't imagine losing someone that close, and to lose two friends at once that way is beyond my comprehension.

anyway, if you did read this, thanks for doing so. I'm crying right now but I think it helps. I haven't really talked to anyone about it or my feelings about it (even Annie) bc in spite of how much I cry I hate breaking down or crying in front of other people. I guess I'm like my godmother in that way. I hope she and her husband have some peace in whatever comes next.

#grief #death #suicide #I did this on my phone #which I hate doing with l on bfposrs #so forgive any typos please #babble and blather

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drinkitfrommymouthsuou · 6 months

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( @alchemic-elric || from Ed and Al )

🥊

𝘚𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺;

𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺; 🥊- 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵: @alchemic-elric

((outofroses; I am rather proud of this! I hope you enjoy it. This is probably the darkest thing I have ever written on this blog lol. I also want to thank my fiance, a close friend of mine who graciously proof read the material.))

⚠ CONTENT WARNING ⚠ Some content written may be unsuitable for all audiences. Please review the tags before proceeding.

Despite the freezing cold rain, his lungs burned as Tamaki ran for his life. His once pristine leather Dockers splashed through the puddles, the cold dirty water sloshing into his shoes—soaking his socks. His usual periwinkle blazer was missing; somewhere along the way he had lost it in the scuffle as he tried to escape. His white—now translucent—undershirt clung to him, the hues of his skin bleeding through the wet fabric.

His aching lungs struggled to draw in a full breath; Tamaki felt as though he was drowning in the rain. How long had he been running? But he couldn’t stop. “HEY! Ya’ fuckin’ chickenshit—get back here!” Not when they were closing in on him. “Fucking rich bastard!”

Damnit.

Tamaki thought he could outrun these guys and lose them in the maze of the city. He had underestimated his assailants; they had the advantage of familiarity—they knew this area while he had no idea where he was. Quickly, the blond turned a corner and ran down a long and narrow alleyway. Trash littered the ground and water poured out of rain gutters, mixing into sludgy puddles. He kept running until…

Tamaki realized all too late that he had taken a wrong turn. He was at a dead-end; there was no way out.

With his body on the verge of collapse, Tamaki paused and leaned against the nearby wall with his hand pressed solidly against the concrete. He took a moment and desperately panted for air, wiping the rain from his face with a trembling hand.

Turning his head skyward he watched as the dark clouds poured out the heavens. Those distant puffs seemed so far away; though turbulent now, they seemed otherworldly. In this moment he wished for nothing more than to be there in those thunderous clouds. How he wished he could be—

“There you are!”

Tamaki flinched when he heard the voices behind him and whipped his body around to face his attackers. The four men had him cornered.

“Give us your money, kid!” “Yeah—give it and n’body gets hurt.” Two men stepped forward while they cracked their knuckles.

“Yeah, we promise we won’t bash ya’ pretty face ‘n.” The third and fourth cackled and the men formed a semi-circle in the alleyway, effectively cutting off Tamaki’s only way of escape.

“I already told you I don’t have anything!” Tamaki shouted but his voice broke; his throat was too dry from all the panting. Tamaki realized quickly that he had no other choice but to fight. The blond was no pushover; he had the fire inside him to fight back. However, he was already exhausted from the long run, and he was facing up against four men who looked like they could clearly hold their own in a fight.

“Tch—,” Tamaki shifted his stance, raised his arms and curled his hands into tight fists. All four men laughed at his show of defiance.

“Hah! Would ya’ look at that? This dipshit thinks he stands a chance.” The fourth man spat at Tamaki.

“I’ve had enough of you!” Tamaki cried and lunged forward. The stinging pain in his hand told him his punch hit the mark. The fourth man staggered backwards and fell to the ground while he clutched his face. This small victory was short lived. Two of the men grabbed Tamaki’s arms and yanked them behind his back with so much force that it felt as if they would rip them from his shoulders.

The remaining thug threw a punch; Tamaki saw stars as pain shot through his head. Tasting the metallic flavor of his own blood as it filled his mouth, he coughed to get rid of it. Strong fingers dug into Tamaki’s scalp and yanked his head up by his blond hair.

“What—you think you are tough, pretty boy? You’re a fuckin’ idiot.” The man reached and started rummaging through Tamaki’s pockets before locating a black leather wallet. Tamaki watched as the thug yanked it open.

“There’s nothin’ in here!” The man growled. He seemed astonished that someone as wealthy as Tamaki wasn’t stupid enough to carry money around. Tamaki didn’t say a word as he watched the man’s expression shift into something far more deadly. “You—fuckin’ piece of SHIT!” The man cried as he punched Tamaki, hard, in the abdomen.

The thugs that held him let Tamaki crumble to the ground. On his knees now, he clutched his stomach trying to catch the wind that was knocked out of him.

“Fucking worthless faggot!” One of the men lifted their leg and kicked Tamaki square in the face. His body flew back and flopped into a dirty puddle. There he laid motionless.

Tamaki groaned; his head pounded, and his vision swam. He had to fight the wave of nausea that washed over him. Why were they doing this? What had he ever done, to anyone, to deserve this? Merely because he existed or he simply was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The man who Tamaki managed to hit at the beginning of the fight stepped forth and flicked his wrist. In one fluid motion, a gravity knife appeared, and the blade glinted in the dim light of the storm. “You think anyone’ll miss this kid?” The man chuckled under his breath as he took a step toward the blond.

Dazed and disoriented, Tamaki was having trouble comprehending his surroundings. The world felt distant and sounded muffled, except for the high-pitched ringing in his ears. Tamaki thought he could faintly hear a crowd in the distance. What were they saying? He could see a flash of lightning through his closed eyelids; he felt the ground reverberating from the thunder that followed. Beyond these limited details, Tamaki didn’t know where he was or what was happening. All he understood was how he felt this overwhelming urge to run.

His body felt broken and heavy as he lay on the ground. He could barely move. With agony pulsating through his body, he attempted to lift himself up.

Stepping closer, the man with the knife pressed his dirty wet boot against Tamaki’s side. The boot pressed him to the ground, effectively stopping the blond’s futile attempt at escape. With a rough kick, Tamaki was shoved, the blond rolling limply onto his back. The man then grabbed Tamaki’s tie and lifted him up halfway.

Tamaki could feel something cold, like steel, getting pressed against his neck. “You’re too fuckin’ pretty.” The thug snarled angrily at the blond. Even now, the blood and bruises couldn’t diminish Tamaki’s inherent beauty.

“Please—... Please…don’t…” Tamaki began to beg, but his voice didn’t sound like his own and it barely registered in his brain that he was speaking. He could feel the tears beginning to well up, stinging his blackened eyes.

“Shadd’up.”

The last thing Tamaki saw was the menacing smile of the man before he closed his eyes and waited.

Voices.

Tamaki could hear voices—shouting. The sound was faint and distant.

The shouting was getting closer and soon Tamaki felt as though he were falling backwards. The tension on his tie gave out and Tamaki’s body dropped back down into the puddles.

The shouting was louder now, and he could hear what sounded like the crashing of metal. It was deafening to Tamaki’s ringing ears. He could hear a string of shouted curses spoken with an accent that he couldn’t recognize.

Soon, the cacophony ceased, the sound of rain and thunder softening the world around him. Tamaki turned his head as he lay in the murky puddles.

He opened his bloodied and bruised eyelids. Through his blurry vision he could see two figures standing in place of the four men who were now gone, or rather, they were now slumped over heaps of flesh laying on the ground. Tamaki couldn’t be sure.

The blond softly groaned and blinked his eyes. A flash of lightning lit up the dark sky and for a moment, he took in what he could see. One was tall and rather imposing–like a knight clad in armor. Beside this behemoth was another figure who seemed rather small in comparison. The pair reminded Tamaki of Takashi and Mitsukuni, and for a moment Tamaki allowed himself the peace to believe that his dear friends had come to his rescue. Everything felt like a dream. Even though his body was screaming in pain, he understood one thing: he was alive.

As that realization set in, exhaustion and relief finally won the battle. Tamaki’s world plunged into darkness as his mind finally fell beneath the waves of unconsciousness.

#「♔ ask the king | prompts 」#「♔ тαмαкι sυσυ | 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 」#tw homophobia #tw vulgar #tw violence #tw unconciousness #tw fighting #tw knife #tw cursing #「♔ guest: Elric Brothers 」#「♔ outofroses; all of the tags! Please let me know if I missed any!」#vulgarity

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