one of the best things about Berserk is that you come to it expecting Guts to be one of them macho anime men with a limited range of emotions but the truth is that he’s just a Big Sad Boy and has one of the most expressive faces portrayed on a male character of his sort.
“You’re totally my boyfriend now.” Y/N had just woken up, stretching her arms and legs out, sheet slipping down exposing her breasts to the chilled morning air.
“What? No. I’m…we talked about this. That’s not what’s happening here. We talked. You, you agreed.” Dean stammered, trying not to stare at the now partially naked woman in his bed. His bed, where she’d been sleeping more and more frequently over the past weeks. When this thing had started they didn’t sleep in the same room. It was a release. Simple as that. So, after the release - occasionally multiple releases - they’d go their separate ways until morning when they’d fall back into just being friends.
“Yeah, but it’s not like that anymore. You’re pretty much in love with me.” She’d been teasing him for the last few days, hoping to rile him up enough to finally admit it, but Dean Winchester was nothing if not stubborn.
“I do not! And can you seriously cover up?” Y/N laughed as he waved his hands at her.
“Why?” Her head dropped to look at her bare chest. Looking back at him and raising her eyebrows she smirked. “They didn’t seem to bother you last night. Or yesterday afternoon.”
“They’re distracting me. And we obviously need to have a serious talk. Now, please.”
“Fine.” Leaning over the side of the bed she grabbed Dean’s discarded t-shirt from the night before. “What do we need to discuss?”
“Well for starters, the coupley stuff needs to stop. Like you wearing my clothes,” giving her a pointed look Dean was about to continue when Y/N started to tug at the shirt’s hem.
“Ok I mean I can just take it off…”
“No! That’s fine, just you know for future reference.”
“Just…we’re…Y/N/N we agreed. We wouldn’t go there. So no more k?” He was struggling. They both knew how he felt, but in his very Dean way he wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Ok. I’m sorry. No more coupley things. I swear. Breakfast?”
“Thank you. Yes, breakfast. But just as friends.”
“Of course.” Y/N said with a firm nod. Dean nodded back and turned towards the door. “Can I borrow a pair of shorts? I don’t feel like putting pants on. Oh! And don’t put sugar in my coffee!”
“Yeah, sure. And please like I don’t know how you take you-” Dean stopped suddenly just as he reached the door. “SHIT! I’m totally your boyfriend.”
I hope when they went home, Alec ran Magnus that hot bath he needed.
You can bet on it, Anon. And afterwards they cuddled in bed, legs entwined and holding each other’s hands, somehow not willing to close their eyes even though they both are exhausted but they just can’t stop looking into each other’s eyes, knowing that they found each other again, that the other is right here, in this bed, listening to the other’s breathing and heartbeat. Until sleep finally welcomes them.
You and Andrew both go to the University of Arkansas together and end up catching feelings for each other, but everyone is afraid to tell each other how they really feel…based off this request (word count: 2100+)
Freshman year of college consisted of nerves, new people and awkward first meetings.
It was now 7:58 and you were walking, well more like running to your first ever college class that starts at 8:00. With your luck it just so happened that your alarm clock had got gone off at 7:40. You had no idea where you were going and you did not want to be late to your first day of class. You weren’t looking where you were going when suddenly you found yourself on the ground.
“Whoah, you okay there pretty girl?” a stranger asked you. Looking up you saw a tall boy with boy with brown, longer hair. He was wearing a University of Arkansas Baseball t-shirt and boy, he looked good in it. He reached out his hand to help you up, which you gladly accepted.
“I’m fine” you said.
“You running to class too?” The brunette boy asked.
You laughed, “yes.“
"Where are you going, maybe we have the same class” he suggested.
“I’m supposed to be going to the Langue Arts building for English” you replied.
“Me too, we can be late together! I think it’s this way” the boy said.
The two of you starting walking towards your class which you were now five minutes late for, “my name’s Andrew by the way” he said.
“Y/N” you said back.
Once you guys reached the classroom Andrew reached for the door, “ladies first?” He asked, not wanting to be the first one of you two to walk in the class late.
“You’re going first,” you said.
Opening the door you saw that this class was a huge lecture hall. You guys tried to sneak in and find a seat in the back.
“Excuse me class, but it looks like we have some late comers” the professor spoke and the whole class, which was about 90 people turned around to look at you guys. “What are the two of your names?” He asked.
“Umm, my name is Y/N Y/L/N” you uttered.
“I’m Andrew Benintendi”
The professor scribbled something down on a piece of paper, “let’s not make this a habit, you two.”
“It won’t,” Andrew said, putting his hand on your back to guide you to your seat.
After class ended Andrew and you walked to the library together, “sorry about this morning” you said.
“What do you mean? We were both going to be late anyways” Andrew pointed out.
“I know, but for running into you” you giggled, remembering the embarrassing moment.
“Well, you surely know how to make an impression” Andrew said.
As the year went on you and Andrew started to talk more and more. The two of you would sneak into each others dorms past visiting hours and end up talking until morning or end up falling asleep in each other’s arms. You guys were “friends” who maybe hugged for too long and held hands every once in a while.
You thought he was as sweet as can be and cute for that matter, but you couldn’t let yourself fall for him. You came to school to study not to get your heart broken by a cute boy, so you had to hide your feelings.
Little did you know, but Andrew felt the same way, he adored you, he thought you were darling. He’d listen to go on and on while he played with your hair. But he came to school to play baseball and get good grades, he knew his parents would kill him if he let them down, so he too had to hide his feelings.
Hiding feelings was not easy for the both of you. When you saw him dancing with another girl at a party you couldn’t help but be jealous. “That’s a good look on you Y/N” Xander, one of Andrew’s friends on the baseball team said to you.
“Huh?” You asked.
He leaned on the kitchen counter next to you, “you’re jealous."
"Am not” you protested.
Xander raised his eyebrows in a questioning look.
“Okay, maybe I’m a little jealous” you confessed.
He smirked, “wanna make him jealous back?"
"How?” You asked, walking closer to him.
Xander glanced back to Andrew, “he’s looking here now, just flirt with me, act like I said something funny or whatever."
Your hands went into Xander’s hair, curling it around your fingers as you pretended to laugh at something he said. Andrew whispered something into the girl’s ear and starting walking over to the kitchen.
"He’s coming over now, I’m going to dip so I don’t get the shit kicked out of me…” Xander said, loosening his grip on your waist, “he looks pretty mad” and with that Xander left you in the kitchen.
You started making yourself a drink, you weren’t really one for drinking but you wanted to make yourself look busy to Andrew.
“Y/N?” Andrew called out.
You looked up at him, god why did he always have to look so good, “yes?"
"You’re drinking?” He said.
“Uhh…yeah” you took a swig of your drink, wanting to instantly spit it out ‘how do people drink this?’ you thought to yourself.
Andrew sent you a questioning glare, “what were you doing with Xander?"
You slumped your shoulders, "what were you doing with that girl?"
"Y/N, we were just dancing then I turn around here and Xander’s got his hands all over you” Andrew said sounding very jealous.
“Nothing’s going on between Xander and me” you said.
Andrew rolled his eyes, “doesn’t seem like it."
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, you didn’t mean to make him this upset.
"What’s wrong?” you asked putting your hand on his chest.
“Nothing” he declared, avoiding your touch by reaching behind you to grab a beer on the counter.
“Andrew, tell me” you pleaded, but he didn’t listen as he walked out of the kitchen.
Andrew was pissed to see his best friend’s arms around you. He told Xander that he liked you, how could Xander do that to him?
Xander made his way back to the kitchen, “how’d it go?” he asked you.
You shook your head, “I don’t think it went well at all, he’s pissed.”
“Yikes,” Xander said scratching the back of his neck.
“Yeah,” you said, taking another swig of at awful drink you made.
“I thought you didn’t drink?” Xander pointed out.
“Champagne for the pain?” You questioned walking out of the kitchen.
“But that’s vodka” Xander yelled to you.
Walking into the living room you saw it was filled with sweaty bodies grinding up against each other. Deciding to get your mind off your Andrew you let your body feel the music, it wasn’t long until you felt two hands on your hips. You didn’t know who the stranger was but in your drunken state, you didn’t care. “You’re a pretty good dancer” the stranger spoke.
You turned around to get a good look at the stranger he was tall blonde and had blue eyes, sure he was cute but he was nowhere near as cute as Andrew. “Thanks” you said your arms wrapping around his neck.
His lips got awfully close to your neck, “let’s get out of here and you can show me what else you’re good at."
Your arms left his neck, "no thank you” you said turning around but his arms grabbed yours pulling you closer to him, “come on baby” he said. You tried pushing him away but he was a lot stronger than you.
“She said no” familiar voice came up from behind you. You turned around to see that it was Andrew.
“What are you, her boyfriend or something?” the stranger spat.
“Actually, yes” Andrew spoke.
“Whatever take her” he tossed you over to Andrew and stormed off.
“Thanks” you slurred.
“Y/N, you’re drunk. Let’s get you back to your dorm” Andrew said his hand grabbing yours leading you outside.
Once outside Andrew called and Uber, you could tell he was mad so you stayed silent. When the Uber arrived Andrew open the door for you, his hand on the small of your back guiding you in the car. The car ride was silent and you were awfully tired. You felt your eyelids getting heavy and suddenly you were out like a light.
The uber stopped in front of your dorm, Andrew carried you out of the car and into your dorm. He laid you down on your twin bed. Your roommate still wasn’t back, she must’ve still been at that party. Andrew knew he couldn’t leave you alone, so he made a makeshift bed on the ground and went to sleep.
You woke up in the morning with a killer headache and looked over to see that your roommate still wasn’t home, she must’ve spent the night at her boyfriends. You slid your feet to the edge of the bed only to feel her body under your feet, you gasped but when you saw it was Andrew you were relieved. He woke up too, his body shifting towards you, “sleep well?” he asked.
“I have a major headache, what about you, you are on the ground” you said.
Andrew stood up as you shifted in your bed to make room for him, “wasn’t too bad” he said laying down next to you.
You rested your head on his bare chest, while his one of his hands rubbed your back and the the other one held you close. “Thanks for last night” you spoke up.
“No one should ever treat you like that boy did and I’m sorry for being rude to you in the kitchen before that” he said.
“It’s okay, thanks for always looking out for me” you said wrapping your arms tighter around him.
He kissed the top of your head, “I can’t believe freshman year of college is almost over…what am I supposed to do with out you over summer break?"
"I’m gonna miss seeing you everyday” you confessed.
“Me too,” he said pulling you even closer to him.
And you really did miss him, you guys would text everyday he’d send you pictures of himself on his family vacation and would reply with, ‘you’re crazy! I can’t wait to see you soon!’ And you would also send him pics of yourself on vacation and he’d reply with, 'I miss your gorgeous face!'
I mean how were you two not a couple?
Summer break eventually came to an end, and although you were sad to leave your family again you were so happy to go back to school see all your friends especially Andrew. You guys already had plans to see each other when you got back.
Andrew knocked on your dorm room, you quickly ran towards to door and opened it. Andrew stood there looking as cute as ever, “Andrew!” you exclaimed jumping on him, your legs wrapping around his waist. He caught you with ease, his arms wrapped tightly around your back, “well hello to you too” he laughed and set you down.
“You ready to go?” he asked.
“Yes!” you said.
Hoping into his truck, “where are we going?” you asked. Andrew smiled, “you’ll have to wait and see” one of his hands leaving the steering wheel and onto your thigh, sending butterflies to your stomach.
Andrew stopped in the middle of a green grass field, “I thought we could have a picnic, I even brought pillow and blankets so we could lay in the back of my truck” he said.
“That’s perfect” you said.
You guys got out of the trunk and laid the blankets and pillows out in the bed of the truck and climbed in. You two talked and talked for hours, he’d tell you funny stories about his summer break and you’d laugh.
“Summer break was great and all, but I guess I really missed you” you admitted.
He grinned, “I missed you too,” Andrew’s eyes moved from your eyes down to your hips as he leaned closer to you. You leaned in closer until his hesitant lips met yours. His lips were soft and plump, the kiss was slow and soft neither of you wanting to rush it. His hand rested below your ear and his thumb caressing your cheeks as your breaths mingled. You ran your fingers down his spine pulling him closer. The kiss got even slower as it came to an end.
“Why haven’t we ever done that before?” Andrew asked, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips.
“I’ve been wanting that to happen for a really long time” you said.
“I really like you, Y/N” Andrew spoke.
“I really like you too” you said, your lips pressing a kiss on his neck, just below his ear.
“I’ve liked you ever since the day I met you,” he confessed. You giggled, “me too."
He intertwined his hands with yours, "would you like to be my girl?"
"I’d love that” you said, lips meeting his in a passionate kiss.
I really hope you guys liked this one! I worked really hard on it! and I think it’s adorable!
Platonic otayuri with both of them sick and trying to hide it from the other?
When Yuri wakes up the morning of his flight to Almaty with a pounding headache, he groans in annoyance, but he’s determined to power through it. He only has a couple days off of skating to visit his friend, and he’s not about to let a little headache stop him from having a good time. He can nap on the flight over and he’ll feel much better. The faint nausea he can feel bubbling in his stomach is clearly just traveling nerves, or low blood sugar. Nothing to worry about. This trip is going to be awesome.
Despite having slept for almost the entire five hour flight, Yuri doesn’t feel any better. His head is pounding worse than ever, and his angrily churning stomach is making him regret eating breakfast. Maybe he got too much sleep on the plane? This is why he doesn’t nap; he always feels worse when he wakes up.
He grabs his bag off the luggage carousel, and turns to look for Otabek; all thoughts of how crappy he feels are pushed out of his head when he spots his friend. “Otabek!” he calls, sprinting over to his friend and tackling him in a hug.
Otabek lets out a quiet “Oof!” of surprise, but he brings his arms up to hug Yuri back. “Good to see you again, Yura.”
There’s something off about his voice, but Yuri can’t quite place it. Maybe he’s just imagining things. “So, where are we going first?” he asks instead.
“Back to my apartment,” Otabek replies. Yuri opens his mouth to lodge a token complaint, but Otabek beats him to it. “There’s a time difference, remember? It’s almost ten here.”
“Right,” Yuri says, secretly relieved. Even though he’s gotten plenty of sleep today, he’s still exhausted.
“Are you hungry? I already had dinner earlier, but we can pick something to eat on the way home if you like.”
Yuri shakes his head. “I already ate on the plane.” He didn’t actually, but he’s definitely not hungry. Hopefully his stomach will settle down with a little more rest, and he can eat breakfast and go sightseeing tomorrow morning like nothing happened.
The trip home is uneventful; Otabek had borrowed a neighbor’s car in lieu of his usual motorcycle, figuring that Yuri would be bringing a suitcase. Yuri spends the entire drive forcing himself to keep his eyes open. His eyelids feel like lead, and the motion of the car jars his aching skull and makes his stomachache worse. As soon as they arrive back at the apartment, Yuri crashes into bed, too tired to even worry about taking a shower. It can wait until morning.
Yuri quickly falls into a deep sleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. He’s unpleasantly awoken what seems like only a few moments later by an unpleasant surge of nausea; he can feel the bile climbing up his throat. Stumbling out of bed, he desperately tries to untangle himself from the sheets-he has no idea what time it is or how long he was asleep, he just knows that he needs to get to the bathroom before he pukes all over the floor.
He sprints down the hall to the bathroom, falling to his knees in front of the toilet so hard that he’s probably going to have bruises. His head lurches forward over the bowl before he can lament the fact that he didn’t have time to lock the door.
For the next few minutes, Yuri’s world is reduced to the small bathroom as he pukes up what feels like everything he’s ever eaten in his life. He throws up waves and waves of stomach acid, scraping his throat raw. Each heave makes his head hurt worse, which in turn makes the nausea worse in a vicious cycle. Finally, the vomiting slowly tapers off and he’s left dry heaving, clutching the sides of the toilet for support.
Yuri is so lost in his misery that he’s startled when the door suddenly creaks open. “Beka? he manages to croak out before he’s cut off with another gag.
“Yura?” Otabek says hoarsely. He sounds surprised, but before he can say anything else, he pitches forward over the sink with a choked heave. Yuri’s stomach rumbles in sympathy as Otabek retches violently, but his stomach is too empty to bring up anything else. He’d like to help comfort his friend, but he instead flushes the toilet and tries to focus on breathing slowly and not puking again.
After several long minutes, Otabek stops throwing up and wipes at his face. Yuri manages to wobble to his feet so he can rinse his mouth out in the sink. He feels a little better after getting the foul taste out of his mouth, and clears his throat.
“So, I’m guessing you’re sick?” they ask at the same time. There’s an awkward moment as they stare at each other, surprised. Then Yuri starts to laugh, wincing as it pulls at his sore stomach muscles.
“Since this morning,” Yuri admits.
“Wow. Same here,” Otabek says, frowning. “Well, I guess we shouldn’t go sightseeing like this.”
“Yeah, I guess not,” Yuri agrees, scowling. “But I’m here for two more days. What are we going to do?”
“Movie marathon?” Otabek suggests. When Yuri doesn’t look convinced, he decides to sweeten the pot. “I’ve got a bunch of them that Lilia and your grandfather wouldn’t let you watch.”
Yuri’s face lights up. “Sounds good.” A devilish expression crosses his face. “But I get to pick.”
“Deal,” Otabek agrees.
Yuri grins. Maybe this trip won’t be so bad after all.
Okay, so I read this post by @fan-art-ic and honestly couldn’t stop thinking about it, because it’s so painful but so accurate based on what the Stan twins have been through…Anyway, I couldn’t get the scenario out of my head, so I just wrote. A lot.
Seriously. I apologize for the length. I hope it’s to your liking nonetheless!
It’s a frigid night in September when he first forgets how to tie a barrel knot.
Weathered fingers glide over fishing line, knots weaving into webs around his knuckles, spidery thread crawling across aged skin. He stares, unblinking, at the gnarled masterpiece between his fingers. The air stings like firecrackers. His body aches with cold.
He is discovered three minutes later by a doppelganger, a mirror of a man who seems to have misplaced his favorite pen, half-scribbled sketch of a kraken in his left hand. The newcomer asks him for help before worried eyes lock on the fishing line, on the trembling, thread-woven gloves, on the glassy, vacant stare before him. Wind whips the sketch from the six-fingered hand; he pays it no heed.
They recite “My name is Stanley Pines,” back and forth in the ship’s cabin, until morning dances in through the curtains. Until the familiar sunbeams of identity light his skin again.
What if after the nogitsune leaves, Stiles still isn’t sure what’s real and what in his head.
And of course Scott refuses to leave his side. Needs to make sure Stiles is ok.
Then one night while drifting to sleep Stiles leans over and kisses Scott. Soft and quick. A smile on his lips that Scott has craved to see on Stiles’ face again.
“Why can’t I just tell you?”
“Tell me what Stiles?”
“That I’m in love with you.”
Scott’s face lights up as he gazes down at Stiles. “I think you just told me dude.”
“But this doesn’t count. It’s not real.”
There’s a sadness in his voice that clenches at Scott’s heart. He cups his hands around his best friends face dropping soft kisses to his forehead, his nose, hovering over his lips. “This IS real.”
And because Stiles still isn’t sure if he can trust what he’s seeing, hearing, feeling he leans forward into the tiny space separating them, pressing their lips together. Taking what he can even if it is all in his head.
(I got really carried away with this I’m so sorry)
- Sam always comes up with the most elaborate, well constructed insults and Bucky has yet to match him with a good comeback.
- He has been known to message Sam with a comeback days after the argument. So far the record is 8 days.
- Despite insisting that Sam is “a punk who should respect his elders”, Bucky shows up on his doorstep fairly regularly to get away from Steve and his bullshit for a little while.
- Despite insisting that Bucky is “a lame old man who should get to thinking about retirement”, he always lets him in and they spend hours talking about their time in the army and all Steve’s ridiculous antics.
- Even though Bucky would never admit it, he prefers being in Sam’s company most of the time. He’s one of the few people to treat him like a normal person instead of acting like he’s made of glass all the time, and it helps him feel a little less broken.
- Whenever Sam makes a pop culture reference that Bucky doesn’t understand, it always results in them sitting down and marathoning whichever movie or TV show it came from.
- The fact that Sam slowly begins making more and more pop culture references is entirely coincidental shut up Natasha.
- Since getting back Bucky spends a lot of time just sitting on his own getting lost in his own thoughts, sometimes with some nasty results, so Sam takes it upon himself to find that sad old grandpa a hobby.
- When he suggested knitting it was supposed to just be another old man joke, but it turns out they both enjoy it. It takes Bucky longer to get the hang of it, but Sam still uses his first tangled creation as a scarf for Redwing.
- Whenever Steve goes on missions with Nat or Clint, Bucky will spend the night at Sam’s because he hates being on his own at night.
- Sam always comes to check on him because he knows Bucky still gets nightmares sometimes, and they’ll stay up until the morning (or until Bucky falls asleep) talking about the last movie they watched or making plans for the next day.
- He doesn’t realise he’s in love with Bucky until one night as he’s getting up to leave, Bucky grabs his arm and asks him to stay longer, and Sam realises he never wants to leave him on his own again.
- Bucky doesn’t realise until the next day, when he wakes up in Sam’s arms and feels safe for the first time in 70 years.
- The romantic mood is utterly ruined when Sam is abruptly woken up by Bucky’s cold metal arm touching his skin.
- He spends most of that day knitting a sleeve for Bucky’s arm, so the incident isn’t repeated the next time they spend the night together.
also just a friendly reminder that if for some reason you haven’t read tower rats, one of the best sanvers works on this fucking intewebs we crawl onto every morning until we fall into a restless sleep every night, it’s completed now so you might as WELL
summary: Maybe, the definition of love is just what he feels for Dan Howell. Or, five things that could mean true love and the one thing that actually means true love.
a/n: I listened to Little Things one too many times. Also this was supposed to be Ten Things, One Thing [like the deleted Hamilton song] but I got tired. (NUMBER FIVE- NOW I DIDN’T KNOW THIS AT THE TIME BUT WE WERE NEAR THE SAME SPOT HIS SON DIED IS THAT WHY-) Anyways. When will my writer’s block leave?
Driver’s Side: A roadtrip/car sharing Kastle fluff fic
This was supposed to be a No Words prompt (thanks @simplytherose!) but I realized couldn’t justify adding to something with the tone No Words has once I’d written it, as it exists in a different universe wherein Karen has stopped questioning
what Frank does entirely, and would be fine with helping him to obtain
transportation for his mass murdering vigilante endeavors.