#I CAN'T BELIEVE I'VE NEVER SEEN IT BEFORE

[notsodelirious]

everyone seems to think jason is this big bad dom who's kinky and teasing and all that shit

NO??? PLEASE??????

let me tell you, jason as big as he is, he's just as soft and WILL melt the moment your fingers graze him ANYWHERE

bro starts whimpering even at the mere THOUGHT you touching his dick, but would never bring it up cause he's scared you'll reject him and be disgusted

so he puts on his mask, kisses you, teases a bit, and then backs off as if nothing happened

but the moment you do initiate anything with him? he's gone, left, away

he can't help but pour all his love into you, it's almost emotional

he's so touch deprived and needy for any kind of positive attention and affirmation that he has to will himself to not cry when you look at him with so much love in your eyes, much less when you want to show him just how much you love him

AND GOD PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE KISS THAT MANS SCARS

HE MIGHT ACTUALLY START CRYING

he has always been so ashamed of them, so scared you'll run off the moment you see him, all of him (especially about the autopsy scar)

so the moment you stay instead? the moment you stare at him with adoration and litter him with kisses, saying how beautiful he looks? IM SORRY, HES GONE

him and the puddle on the floor? same thing

yearning is this mans first language and I stand by it

I've been seeing so much of dom Jay so please let my boy be soft😭

(tim, on the other hand, is exactly what people think jason is, mans a little snarky piece of shit everywhere and always, and i love him as he is)

(also sorry for the rant, got carried away a bit 😅)

absolutely no worries about the rant Anon, I love your way of thinking <3 sorry this took so long but I hope this answers your prompt

Look at me — Jason Todd

synopsis — you love Jason, even if he doesn’t believe you’ll love every part of him

notes — NSFW MDNI pretty please, also so long and so not edited, so apologies (edit — has been proofread, somewhat, but still not edited)

tags — established relationship, mentions of canon death, mild blood and injury, smut as mentioned above, 2.5k words, no use of y/n, gn!reader, Jason calls the reader “baby” and “babe”

The first time you see his scars, it’s completely unintentional. You run cold so you’re constantly turning the heat up in your apartment, far beyond what Jason thinks is reasonable. He complains, but you can’t help but note he’s a big guy, ‘obviously he’s not going to feel as cold as you do’.

His complaints continue, even after you’ve settled down to watch a movie, moaning about how ‘it’s so damn hot in here, it feels like a sauna’, and then proceeds to pull his hoodie off. You didn’t mean to stare as he tugs the offending piece of clothing over his head, but his shirt rids up just the slightest bit. Just enough to reveal a gnarled pink scar across his hip bone and a sharp, clean but raised scar right down his lower abdomen.

You’ve always assumed he has scars—he’s a vigilante; you’ve seen him come home limping more times than you’ve seen him get a full 8 hours of sleep.

Besides, it isn’t as if you’ve never seen any scars on him. He exists in t-shirt and the skin there is littered with scars of all shapes and sizes, from gunshot wounds to knives to mosquito bites. You’ve treated the occasional surface wound on his face or leg from time to time. You had seen his skin and he’s shown himself to you.

But that doesn’t stop you from staring.

This is different.

Only as the realisation that you’ve never seen him shirtless dawns on you, that you start to consider why that is.

You almost reach out to brush your fingers against the raised skin but he manages to dislodge himself from his jumper before then.

He tosses it onto the floor, kicks it out of the way just enough so neither of you will trip on it. He pauses briefly when he notices you, your stare. You tug his shirt down before he can even consider the movement himself, covering the sliver of skin that had been exposed to you.

You sit, in complete silence. You aren’t waiting for anything, you simply have nothing to say as you continue to watch the movie. A shaky hand reaches for yours and you can’t help the warmth in your heart when you feel his lips rest against the back of your hand.

The second time, you don’t even see anything at all. Another movie, a little less attention paid to it, as Jason kisses on you, your cheeks, neck, lips. You laugh softly as you let him, gently running your fingers through his hair, smiling at him as he comes up for air.

“What are you smiling like that for?”

“I just happen to have the prettiest boyfriend.”

You almost miss how his cheeks flush softly in the dark room and you laugh a little louder, pulling him down for a kiss as you straddle his lap. You let your hands roam, feeling his broad shoulders, arms and back as he dissolves beneath your touch, like sugar in warm water. You smile against his lips as he sinks into the sofa, soft panting a little too frantic for the slow-paced make-out session.

“Is somebody flustered?” you joke kindly as you tilt your head to lean against his cheek, hands on his hips and tugging on the hem of his shirt. “Don’t know what to do with yourself?”

“Please…”

You pull back just enough to see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, his eyes practically crossing all to look up at you, and watch your face.

“Please?” you repeat softly, as your fingertips brush against his lower stomach, feeling the muscles tense and twitch at the featherlight touch. “What are you asking for, baby?”

Your fingers creep higher, following the raised bumps and lines you can feel on his skin, under his shirt. He shivers, a soft moan slipping past his lips as you reach his pecs. You lay your palms flat against them, taking great joy in squeezing them gently and making Jason’s heart pound faster beneath your hand.

“Enjoying yourself?” you said, sly as you kiss his jaw, down his neck to press your lips to his pulsing jugular.

“I- please, I-“ You can’t help the breathy laugh as you move downwards, leaving tender, open mouth kisses along his throat, sucking his skin here and there, revelling in the soft moans and whimpers that slip from the back of his throat. Almost instinctually, his hips buck against yours—you hum, amused, before grinding back against him, feeling him tremble beneath your ministrations.

“I-“

Your hands continue to feel under his shirt, around his ribs, down his waist, down his sternum-

“Stop.”

You freeze, pull back and look at him.

“Jay?”

“I just-“ he swallows as he looks at himself, then at you, as if debating whether or not he should finish the thought and explain. Eventually, he just wordlessly shakes his head, pulling your hands out from beneath his shirt, “No.”

“Okay,” you kiss his cheek before sliding off his lap to settle beside him. You don’t understand what’s wrong, and as curious as you are, it’s not like you’re going to push him for an answer.

Jason is many things: loyal, kind, loving, a dickhead—but emotionally vulnerable and open is not part of that list. Pushing him to do or say anything leads to a quick dismissal at best. And an outburst at worst.

Jason would come to you in his own time.

That time happened to be a week later.

It’s a long night, he forgets himself. He climbs in through your window, tries to be as quiet as possible. But tonight, he forgets himself, shuts the window behind himself just a little too hard and the frame rattles softly. He doesn’t notice you stir or the soft mumble as you roll onto your side, too focused on trying to shed his leather jacket. Through bleary eyes, you can just about see him move about the room, hearing him curse silently.

The bathroom door closes before the lights flick on. Cupboards open and close, more cursing. You slip out of bed, recoiling a little at the cold floorboards beneath your feet, and pad towards the bathroom, knocking softly before pushing the door open.

“Jay?-“

“Shit-“

You freeze at the sight of each other. His bloody shirt is on the floor, staining a couple of your white tiles a vibrant red. Medical supplies are strewn across the counter, medical gauze packs ripped open and a suture needle halfway set up.

And Jason was…

A large gash spanned from his ribs to his hips—at least from what you could from beneath the bloodied towel he was holding his wound.

“Jesus, don’t you knock-“

“What happened?” you ask instead, rushing forward to help him staunch the bleeding. He groans as you apply pressure but doesn’t push you away, letting you come up close to him. You chance a peek beneath the make shift compress, trying to not pull a face as you convince yourself it’s not as bad as it looks.

“I’ll stitch you up,” you say softly as you look around the bathroom—the suture kit that he had already pulled out isn’t sterile anymore, you’ll have to take out a new one… “Go lie down, I’ll…” You trail off as you look up at him, meet his distant gaze as he stares down at you, almost unseeing. “Jay?”

He blinks and the afterimage of fear you saw flicker across his face is gone, face falling back into something more impassive.

“Lie down,” he mumbles, “Yeah… yeah, sure.”

He slips away from you, most likely a little dazed from the bloodloss. You’re itching to now how he got to that point, who could have gotten close enough to slice him like that but you shelve all those questions for later and begin to prep from wound care instead to go make sure your boyfriend doesn’t bleed.

You return to him minutes later, with an unopened first aids kit and clean hands and kneel beside him, from where he was sat on the edge of the bed.

“You don’t have to…”

“Horizontal, babe,” you say softly as you nudge him. He settles as you flip open the kit and start cleaning his wound, apologising quietly for every wince and sharp breath.

Stitching him up is simple enough—his pain tolerance terrifies you but you don’t utter a word, just make sure to get the job done as swiftly and painlessly as possible.

You cut the last stitch, roll off your gloves, dump the whole thing on the bedside table—unsanitary and dangerous but your hands are trembling a little too much and your nerves a little too frayed from worry to truly care.

“Okay,” you swallow as you press a piece of clean gauze against his fresh stitches, “Sit up, lemme bandage you up.” Jason complies as best he can, muscles flexing under his skin as he sits up for you and you shuffle closer to wrap clean bandages around his midriff. You try to solely pay attention to the task at hand but now that nobody is in danger of bleeding out, you can’t help but let your eyes wonder across his bare torso. They trace the scars that litter his chest, linger on the large Y, carved from beneath his collarbones, joining at his sternum before disappearing beneath my bandaging.

“Sorry,” he says in a small voice. You tuck the end of the wrap into itself before you look up at him. He doesn’t look back, expression almost sheepish as if he were embarrassed. “I’ll put a shirt on-“

“Don’t.” You climb up onto the bed, straddling his thighs as you cup his face, “You’re gorgeous.”

“Don’t say that…”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“You told me you didn’t finish the ice cream last week.”

Your laugh rings clear in the still bedroom as you lean forward to kiss him.

“Well I’m not lying now,” you whisper against his lips. The kiss is slow, tender, as you both pour your souls into each other. “You scared me shitless.”

“Sorry-“

Your fingertips graze along the large scar on his chest.

“I’d ask you not to do it again but you probably will, won’t you?” He nods as he follows your hand, breathing deepening ever so slightly as you feel him. “Guess I’ll just have to enjoy you while I have you here.”

“Babe…”

“Shh,” you push him down carefully, avoiding his injury. “Just let me take care of you.”

His sighs are soft as he follows your lead, letting himself be pushed and pulled around. You kiss him, in a way only a devotee can worship their deity, lavishing him and devouring him.

“You’re so fucking pretty.”

You move down his body, from his jaw to his neck. Your tongue runs along the straight scar there—you wonder what happened. You always wonder. But some stories were better kept for quieter nights.

Your lips and tongue brush along his skin, tracing every jagged scar you come across.

“Babe…” he moans breathily as he squirms ever so slightly beneath you, resisting the urge to buck his hips against your body.

“Is there something you’d like, handsome?” You smile as you thumb his nipples, your glee only growing as he whimpers, arching his back into your touch. You pinch them, tug them, make him squirm and pant harder. “You’re so needy, aren’t you?”

“Baby, please-“

You leave hickeys on his chest, following the large scar down between his pecs.

“So desperate.”

“Babe-“

You bite his pec, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to make him keen and buck his hips against yours, making you groan in turn. He grinds his covered hard-on against your crotch, seeking any friction he can.

“You need it, don’t you?”

His nodding is furtive and eager and your heart sores while your hand creeps downwards, following down his happy trail and dipping past his waistband.

“What do we say when we want something?”

“Please,” he whimpers as he looks up at you, adoration and desperation pooling in his deep green eyes. Tears brim along his waterline when you finally wrap your hand around his cock, warm and heavy against your palm. “Please. Please, please, baby, please-“

You tug him out of his underwear before you slowly start to pump, running your thumb along the head of his cock, teasing his leaking slit with the pad of your thumb.

“Such a polite boy,” you purr just as you sink lowered, kissing the scar on his hip before nuzzling your cheek against his cock. “Stay still for me, okay baby?”

You don’t give him any more warning before you’re sinking down on him, taking him into your mouth, wrapping your hand around what you can’t reach. You hollow your cheeks as you pull back up, bobbing your head on his dick as he moans and whimpers above you.

“Baby, baby, fuck-“

You hum in response, vibrations running through him making him shudder. His fingers tangle in your hair as suck his dick, gripping you like he’s unsure whether he wants you to stay or go.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, babe-“

You look up at him from beneath teary eyelashes, blinking up at him as if you aren’t choking on his dick. You pull away, making him whine in protest but you don’t cave, continuing to jerk him off.

“You wanna cum, handsome.”

“Yes! Yes, yes, please, I’m- please.”

You lick the precum pearling from his tip before you swallow him down again, grinning at the soft wail and tightening grip. You feel more than hear the moment he tumbles over edge, thick cum shooting down your throat. You swallow before you can choke, but tears gather in your eyes, leaving you sputtering and coughing slightly when you come up for air.

“Good?” you ask softly as you wipe your face. He mumbles unintelligibly as he nods, strong arms finding your shoulders to drag you closer.

He mumbles something about returning the favour later, but you just laugh quietly as you pull him against you, resting his head against your shoulder, so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say as you run a hand through his hair. Only to pause as you bring a hand up to your mouth, pulling a hair out of your mouth.

Jason freezes before chuckling softly, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t mind hair in my food,” you quip back cheekily, which only makes him blush.

“Jesus.”

You kiss the crown of his head as you snicker.

“Go to sleep, handsome.” You run your hands along his back, tracing idle patterns against his skin, on his collarbones and shoulders.

“They’re from my autopsy,” he mumbles softly as he tucks himself against you. “From when I died…”

You hum, but don’t speak.

Afraid that maybe you’ll uncover the dread blooming in your gut.

You’ll ask later, is what you tell yourself as you watch Jason yawn, and promptly slip in a heavy, restful slumber.

(holy shit was this a doozy to write; I usually never write 2k words in less than 48 hours but I hope your enjoyed <3)

[the-kr8tor]

May I req a fic about Hobie and reader going out on a first date? Like I'm talking NERVOUS HOBIE

Ofc we get that princess treatment though:3

Thank you for requesting! I hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), pining, a bit of loser! Hobie, established relationship, CW food mentions, fluff!

Navigation

When Hobie asked you out on a date, you thought that the usual flirty and nonchalant Hobie would hand you flowers or even chocolates. What you're carrying right now begs to differ. The box of garden grown onions, tomatoes, and eggplants he handed to you on your doorstep were unusual to be given to your date, yes, but it has you giggling and flustered nonetheless. They look plump and healthy, better than anything you've seen in groceries.

“I thought you'd like them instead of store bought flowers.” He says as he scratches the back of his neck nervously when you haven't answered him after he gave you his present. “I tried plantin’ flowers— your favourites but they're still buds.”

You can't believe the same suave man who asked you out all smoothly is standing before you with his hands in his pockets and eyes turned away from you. And he planted your favourite flower too? What did you do in your past life to deserve such a sweet man to give you even the time of day?

“No���no, I love them!” You suddenly exclaim. The sad disappointed expression on his face has you stepping down the doorway to his side, eyes shining with a wobbly shy smile. “Thank you, Hobie.” You want to engulf him in your arms if not for the lovely present in between you.

Hobie sighs in relief, eyes gazing at your necklace before he roams his eyes back to your flustered face. You clutch the box against your chest, it's getting heavier by the second as you both stand there like awkward crushing teenagers.

“Really?” You nod at his bewilderment. “I mean— that's good, that's fuckin' mint— ‘m chuffed, love.”

“I've been meaning to buy vegetables, but the prices have been horrendous these days.” You struggle to hold onto it, cardboard sliding down from your arms. Hobie takes the memo, grabbing underneath it, hand accidentally grasping your own as he slides the box over to him easily. The skin where he briefly touched feels like it's on fire. In a good way.

Hobie cradles it in one arm as he smiles at you sweetly. “Fuckin' tariffs.”

You nod with a chuckle. “Fucking tariffs.”

You two share an affectionate look for what seemed like forever. The city noise is muffled in your ears, and the people walking along your street fades away in your vision. It's just you and Hobie, and his vegetables.

“Shall we?” You ask with a tilted head, hands placed behind you as you nervously fidget with the ribbon on your dress. The outfit took days of decision making, after speaking to the council (your friends) you settled on a simple baby blue summer dress, that you've accidentally matched with his denim jacket. “You can leave the box inside, unless you want to lug it around the city?” You joke with a barely tamped down shyness.

Hobie shakes his head with a chortle. “Yeah— I'd look like your personal shopper instead of your date.”

Date, you still can't believe after ten whole months of pining after him that he would feel the same, that he would ask you out. Never in a million years you thought that he'd even look at you with the same fondness that you sport whenever you gaze at him across the fluorescent light coated office.

You give him a bashful chuckle, taking the box again to quickly place it on the kitchen counter. “I'll put it away for you.”

Hobie doesn't waste time in pulling the box towards him again before you could even hold it properly. “Nah, love, let me do it. Can't have my date strugglin’ now, hm?”

“The kitchen's ten steps away from here.” Your eyes crinkle at the corners as he playfully rolls his eyes.

“I won't be liable if you break your back.” He shrugs, tapping your foot with his own. He has been at your place a couple of times for drinks with friends, but never alone. It fills him with a dizzying giddiness and nerves that comes with a proper first date.

“Okay, fine, big strong man, you do it.” Standing to the side, you give him space so he could close the small distance towards the tiny kitchen island you bought off of marketplace.

“Ungrateful.” He mutters teasingly with a lilt in his tone. Even (gently) shoulder checking you as he enters the flat.

You fake a gasp, cupping your ‘wounded’ shoulder. “My date is rude.”

Hobie grins from ear to ear as he slides the box over to the counter as you ogle him from behind. The jeans he's wearing fits him well. Too well as it hugs him in all the best ways.

He turns around, acting like he's dusting his hands. He pauses on the spot, seemingly admiring you under the yellow light of your flat. Your heart lurches in your chest, hands suddenly clammy as you see him visibly sweat. The warm lights may make you look good, but it makes you see all the tiny details. Like how the corner of his lips quirk up into a subtle small smile, the silver charms in his hair, and the slight shimmery sheen on his black shirt. He looks handsome as always, but you can't help but feel shy under his gaze as you hide yourself with your arms crossed over your chest.

Hobie notices, and he has to wake himself up by slapping the rubber band that's around his wrist. “Come ‘ere often?”

“I live here, Hobie.” You beam at him with a slight roll of your eyes.

“Right, ‘m trespassin’, ain't I?” He finally gets the courage to come close to you, smelling the strawberries and cream scent of your perfume. He feels like he's floating on cloud nine.

“I don't think it counts if I invited you in.” With a trembling hand, you reach for his sleeve, fingers running over the rough denim.

He stands toe to toe with you, eyes soft and hand slowly reaching for you as you lead him outside. “W-wait hold on.”

“Hm?” You hum, and you see his hands reaching towards your neck.

“Can I?” His palm hovers around the underside of your jaw, thumb briefly brushing along your heated skin.

Your lips part slightly, breath hitching in your throat as you tug him closer to you. You're thinking that this is it, that he's about to kiss you properly this time. Not like the quick and awkward kiss you two had after his confession. It was awkward because it was during a work trip, and it was quick because he took your still lips against him as a sign that he misread your affections. He was dead wrong. It took guts to yank him back in front of you and place a kiss on the corner of his lips before someone could see you two lip locking on company time. It was the best decision you've ever made.

“Y–yeah, you can, Hobs.” You can't even hear your own voice above the thudding of your heart.

Hobie nods and leans closer as you shut your eyes. He's so close to you that you can smell his cologne. Warm hands graze your neck, fingers gently looping around your necklace as he twists it around your neck. “Sorry, it was botherin’ me.”

Your eyes open immediately, looking down at your fixed necklace where the pendant of a clover now sits right on your collarbone. “Oh.”

His brows knit together. “Oh?” Then his face morphs into realization. “Oh!” Shit. “I could still—”

“It's nothing! We should go, we're wasting precious time.” You didn't intend to have your voice so unnaturally high. You clear your throat, arm reaching behind him to close and lock your front door. Trainers squeak against the steps as you embarrassedly make your way down. You wish the earth could just swallow you whole.

Hobie bites his lip to tuck the laugh inching in his throat. “Sure, love.”

“Don't laugh!” You squeak from the sidewalk as you stare up at him.

“‘m not!” A chuckle escapes.

“You are!” You point accusingly at him.

“‘m just chuffed, alright?” Hobie goes down the stairs to meet with a very flustered you. He tugs you against him by your pinky and lets you hide your face on his chest. You groan, the deep rumble felt through his entire being. His palm rests in between your shoulder blades, thumb brushing along your nape. “If I only knew—”

As quick as lightning, you cup his mouth. “Not a word.”

He mumbles, words quieted by your hand while his eyes smile.

“I didn't think that you were about to…you know.” You lie through your teeth, and he narrows his eyes suspiciously, letting his expression convey his words. Huffing, your hand falls. “Don’t say anything, please?” You're embarrassed enough as it is.

With a smile, he moves down and places a kiss on your cheek. Lips lingering on your skin. It almost had you keeling over on the dirty sidewalk.

“There, enough to tide us both over until the end of the date.” You haven't noticed his hand grasping your own, as his index traces the shell of your ear and plays with your dangling earring.

“You're excruciatingly insufferable.” You say with the fondest of tones. Arms looped around his neck while his hands fall down towards your hips.

“You have that effect on me,” with another kiss to your cheek, one that's closer to the corner of your lips, he then takes your hand, pecking the back of your hand and then holding it and placing it inside the pocket of his jacket. You feel how shaky he is against your touch, and the clamminess of his palm. “C’mon, we have places to be.”

Your head casually leans against his shoulder whilst you two walk. Letting the street lights guide you both towards where he parked his motorcycle.

“I was thinking of making use of the vegetables you gave me and make you dinner someday? Possibly? Maybe?” You say with trepidation as you two cross the street.

“That sounds great, love.” He holds onto you protectively, head swiveling to make sure there's no oncoming traffic heading your way. Now safely back on the sidewalk, he leads you towards the familiar bike. “Your flowers might have bloomed by then too.”

Hobie lets you go to grab a spare helmet for you. The same one he always reserves just for you whenever he gives you a ride home.

“Moussaka for the eggplant, some pasta with the tomatoes.” You excitedly say while he gingerly puts on the helmet on your head just like always. And he even makes sure he doesn't ruin your hair. He listens intently at your yapping with a soft smile. “I have no idea what to do with the onions though, maybe french onion soup? Would that even pair well with the others?”

Hobie pats the top of the helmet, wiggling your head with it. “As long as you let me help you with the cookin’”

“You want to help me?” Your eyes shine brightly under the streetlamp.

“‘Course, love.” Without another word, he kneels down before you and you swear your heart stops as your eyes widen. “That could be our second date.”

Before you could embarrass yourself more with another assumption. Hobie ties your loose shoelaces for you. He makes sure that he secures it well with a tug and even moves to the other shoe to double knot its shoelaces.

He gives your shoe a good pat before you give him a hand to help him up. His eyes glow as he looks up at you with reverence.

You have no idea how you'll manage throughout the rest of the date without melting into a puddle.

[according2thelore]

Thoughts on omegaverse view on mated pair Sam/Dean?

My personal hc is that inter-family mates are like some sort of really dated tradition that died out and are generally negatively viewed in modern time. Also that Omegas biology allows for "diverse" offspring (idk, I'm not good in sciences hahah).

hi, anon! <3

i do ALWAYS have thoughts on mated pair samdean!

that's SUPER fair, and i think well-founded! omegaverse is so varied, that i tend to lean in this direction, too! it would make sense to me that intrafamily matings have fallen out of social favor, and are seen as more archaic as society isn't just a disparate group of packs anymore.

and haha that's totally okay--do you mean that omegas have more genetic variability (and therefore less genetic crossover between family) that allows their offspring to avoid the effects of inbreeding? that would be IDEAL, lol! i (clearly) enjoy omegaverse, but whenever sam&dean have a biological kid, i throw one up for the little guy.

as someone who works in/studies the sciences, i'd actually love to hear theories about alpha/beta/omega genetics, lol. even more varied recombination? different lengths of chromosomes? different numbers of chromosomes? repeated, repeated recombination? every trait being polygenetic? multiple copies of the same allele pair?

any way you work it, yeah, i'm on board, lol!

it's so hard to say when i think they would actually mate. you could make an argument for basically any point in their lives, and i would probably agree, except for pre-series (for omegaverse logistics reasons). i think these two absolutely play-mated until way after it was seen as acceptable. every sparring match would end with one of their mouths open against the other's mating bite like pups fighting for dominance, even after they both presented (panting & wide-eyed and then pushing each other off, grinning, eyes rolling like it's all a big joke despite the way their pulses roar in their ears), but never actually go through with it. i don't think sam could have/would have mated dean if he had every intention of leaving for stanford.

but like after jess's death? sure. after john's death? i believe it. after sam's death and before dean's deal? okay. before the pit or while sam was soulless or when sam was vulnerable afterwards or during the trials or during the mark of cain or after dean was turned back into a human or--you get it. i can see the vision!

personally, i've always been a little soft for late-seasons mated pair sam&dean. i have a bad case of the "old married couple" propaganda. i think if they got mated early on in the show that their mating bond would have broken, and they'd have to re-mate. since the death of one partner breaks a bond, it would be a constant back and forth of an endless, mind-breaking well of grief. plus, they betray each other and/or sleep with other plot-important people (e.g., jess, ruby, lisa, benny (hypothetically), amelia), which can't be great for the bond, lol.

i've always had the headcanon that even before they mate, they smell the same. not even like they smell mated--two distinct scents that mesh together--but like the same person. their scents are so co-mingled/blended that they don't even register as two different scents.

people don't notice until they're standing next to each other, and their noses wrinkle like "oh. ew. they're obsessed-obsessed with each other." it would complement how everyone in canon takes one look at them and assumes they're together. now, people will occassionally assume they're together, but as soon as they're standing in the same room, everyone thinks they've been mated for fifteen years, have four pups, and a mortgage kinda deal. when they're apart for long periods of time, you can start to tell them apart, but it vanishes the second they slide back together like two straining magnets.

in the vein of "intrafamily matings are looked down upon," i think this would manifest as people side-eyeing the alpha and approaching the omega. i'm personally partial to omega!dean, whom i think would sigh dreamily when someone implies that sam must've forced the mating and says "oh yeah he wants to keep me barefoot and pregnant all the time (a lie). isn't he so romantic?" just to fuck with people. then he would become indignant the longer people push. an omega!sam (in the early seasons) would scoff like "you think that dick could overpower me? yeah right." and in the late seasons would smile awkwardly and thank them for their concern, but...uh...he's fine. really.

i think it would get to the point where they don't go out of their way to say that they're brothers. they don't hide it, but it's not the first thing they bring up. hell, charlie doesn't even know until six years into knowing them when sam demands to be let into dean's hospital room because he's his brother. when sam shows his fake ID that matches dean's, they let him & charlie through, and she laughs awkwardly like "uh haha you could've just told them you're mated. they'd believe you." and sam smacks his hand on his forehead because fuck. yeah. in his mind, dean is Brother before he is Mate, since Brother covers pretty much every relationship he can imagine. Brother is Mate, in sam's brain, always has been. charlie takes the news pretty well, all things considered.

as kids, i also headcanon that dean swears up and down that he's going to mate sammy when they grow up. sam's eyes get all big and shiny and excited, like dean promised him a pony for his next birthday, and he babbles for hours about what their mating ceremony and future kids and house will look like. john immediately puts a stop to it, awkwardly, saying that brothers don't really mate brothers, anymore. not for a long time. sammy hides under the motel covers and cries for HOURS. it's very melodramatic, and dean does the facsimile of mated comfort, smashing his nose awkwardly into sam's neck where neither of them have a mating gland yet, telling sammy that dad doesn't even know what he's talking about, sam, honest.

poor sammy’s presentation/puberty is a NIGHTMARE because dean is Omega & Brother & Parent & An Asshole & Mate, so when dean does anything, sam has to do fourteen layers of processing. some alpha corners dean in a bar bathroom, and even though dean handles his own, sam takes the guy to the floor and beats him almost dead, his brain screaming HE’S MY and then silence because brotherbestfriendmatemomomegamine is too big a word to even process.

anyone who knows them in the later seasons (e.g., jody, claire, jack, kevin, rowena, cas) just kind of accepts this about them. they don't really know if it's just due to how enmeshed they grew up (especially in cases where they're both alphas, or both omegas, or one of them is a beta, etc.), or if it's something more, and honestly, they don't really care. they know that the other is the most important person in the their life, and that's kind of all they need to know. hell, even jody's not even sure until she sees sam get blasted away on a hunt and dean flips his shit, petting gently over sam's hair, frantic, groping hands on sam's legs and arms and chest, thumbing at his his mating gland and pressing sam's nose real slow and gentle into dean's neck next to his scent gland to calm sam down.

there's something really eldritch about them, besides. souls older than their bodies. so an archaic kind of bond makes sense. like, well i just saw sam make a blood oath to dean in a dark hallway and have physically seen dean gutting a goat for the ingredients to a spell so i completely buy that this is just their modus operandi.

it's a little inconvenient when they go out to a bar (before they're mated), and the girl dean's trying to pick up absolutely slaps the shit out of him when she catches a whiff of sam because they smell mated, and is dean trying to use her to get back at his mate?? pathetic.

as for specifically established-mating headcanons, i think alpha!sam takes off his shirts and immediately gives them to dean at the end of the day, because dean likes to wear them to sleep. sam takes off his flannel, strips off his henley, and passes the latter over to dean, who slips it over his freshly-showered head when it's still warm from sam's skin. dean loves the way it smells, and it keeps his nesting habit at bay. he gets embarrassed and angry when he feels the instinct to nest, but this is perfect, because dean feels warm and calm and smells sam all over his skin without having to raid the hamper or strip the sheets.

for omega!sam, i think he can't purr for a long time. i know purring has become a fringe omegaverse feature, but i remember my roots, baby, so i'm going that late seasons!sam lost the ability to purr for a really fucking long time. after jess's death, he just started purring before cold oak happened, and then can barely manage it in the lead-up to dean's deal coming due.

in the late seasons, after the cage and the absolute shit that comes out of it, dean hasn't heard his favourite little rumble in decades. sam can now barely produce slick, even. fresh-presentation sam used to curl up in dean's bed and purr like a fucking motorboat, rubbing his face in dean's sheets.

and it's not until a long, decidedly-asexual evening of sam bundled on the couch in front of a rerun, with sam's nose buried in dean's neck and dozing for hours, dean's hand in his hair and stomach full and feet warm and chuck long dead--and after months of dean trying in his distinct dean-way of pampering the fuck out of him with trips to unique libraries and hours-long sex and small gifts left in his hands like a cat leaves dead animals on a doorstep--does sam's next exhale sound like a little purr.

dean freezes, his hand stilling in sam's unwashed hair. it gets stronger, as sam tucks the cold tip of his nose so it drags against dean's warm skin, and dean has tears in his eyes as he hauls sam's stupid fucking mile-long legs over his lap. sam--his mate--feels safe. truly safe, and content, and warm, for the first time in decades.

omega!dean's purr, on the other hand, is rusty, like a chainsaw. it sounds a bit like snoring, when he manhandles sam in bed until he's the perfect pillow, then digs his sharp chin into sam's shoulder. sam's so in awe and adoring that little cartoon hearts float above his head and pop when they hit the headboard. to him, this is the purr that would coax him to sleep as long as he's been alive, so it's like four hits of isoflurane--that is to say, it completely knocks him the fuck out-- as soon as he hears it.

dean used to use this strategically, when sam was still reeling from the cage memories, and would pin sam down and purr at him until sam went completely lax and loopy.

that's also how he knew nothing was at it first appeared when sam was soulless: dean tried to help him go to sleep by having sam lay on his chest, between his legs, and purr gently with a hand in his hair like he hadn't since sam was fresh out of cold oak. and sam just blankly blinked at the wall, completely awake and unaffected for hours.

okay damn we covered a lot of bases here today! purring, genetics, scents, play-mating, mating timelines.

thank you so much for this ask, anon! clearly, i have a lot to say about omegaverse samdean, lol. hope your day is lovely!

-lizzy

[bcacstuff]

Hi BC,

After reading your posts and others regarding Sam and Vicky in Mexico, something came to mind. No one except Sam and Vicky truly knows what happened there—we’re all just discussing assumptions. Since we can’t say for sure if any of them are true, please take mine with a grain of salt.

After the SS tour, like many of you, I was sure there would be a vacation—but not a "fukation." Why not a "fukation"? Because I believe that after 2023, Sam has gone through a shift in his life, especially emotionally. I won’t get into that part here, but I do understand why he walked with that woman and why he took Alice to that match. So, I was certain he would take a vacation.

When news about Vicky surfaced—especially after the mutual following—I thought I had been wrong in my assumptions. However, after seeing photos of Sam with fans yesterday, I got the impression even more than before that he was actually there alone—just exercising, drinking, and relaxing. I believe he was in Sayulita by himself. When the first fan photo was shared, he was already gone. Maybe he met Vicky for just one day. Their relationship seems to be more about adventure than anything serious. We know they went camping and kayaking together. Sam can sometimes do crazy things, but I think he has certain red flags when it comes to relationships with some people, and I believe Vicky is one of them. If he had been with an influencer or model, I would have been more convinced that it was a "fukation." However, I doubt he would get into a relationship with a co-worker—I think that’s a boundary he wouldn’t cross.

Regarding the private account following, I agree with much of what you’ve said, but I see it a little differently. I think the reason Sam and Vicky didn’t follow the hotel—despite it being expected if they were both staying there—is because Sam was never at that hotel at all.

This is what I believe: On Saturday, Sam and Vicky were on some kind of nature adventure. Maybe they met Pedro there and became acquainted. Maybe they had some issues, and he helped them, or maybe he was simply part of a nature tour they joined. It’s possible they got to talking, and Pedro invited them to visit that hotel next time they were in Mexico. If Sam had actually stayed at that hotel, wouldn’t he have followed its account like he usually does? And if Vicky had a special experience there, wouldn’t she have followed the hotel instead of Pedro? I don’t think she was ever at that hotel.

As for the voice in the video, a lot of us had problems with the accent and speed of speech. Since they were in Mexico, it could have been a tour guide or even Pedro speaking English with a Spanish accent. Hispanic people who are bilingual in Spanish and English often speak English very quickly.

These are all just assumptions—thanks!

Yes, there's just a waterfall (still hours away), a voice which nobody can 100% take as proof for anything, and a follow which would be a very huge coincidence. I'm quite baffled how people can take their fantasy so far about these 3 small things and make up a whole story about it. Like they stayed in the same hotel and more. You simply can't!

I don't know about the shift, I really don't see any change. Ending OL surely has an impact. I can't tell what happened to him and all these women we saw last year, maybe some sort of dealing with insecurity as he saw OL ending and not knowing what's gonna be next. But I still see the more likable guy in the UK, I loved the Everest adventure, he was just spending Xmas with family and took a skitrip. Nothing out of the ordenary. But as soon as he's a while in the US, and even more when with AN who wants to put him an image out to be the big HW star, he becomes less likable, somewhat arrogant maybe. I've seen it many times now, and I'm sure many saw the same thing happening over again and over again with me.

I agree to some level about the just meeting up for a day or maybe even less. Yes we speculate, maybe AN's kids were over for a some days, maybe Vicky asked him for some tips on Mexico as she planned a trip to Mexico, maybe Sam wanted to meet this Pedro Fernandez del Valle, a raicilla expert and distiller who founded the family-led brand Aycya, we know S has his friends in the region and surely this name would have come up. And maybe it's a combination of this all. See there are many options.

I disagree on the red flag for Vicky. It's not his first rodeo, and I'm not only talking about it being a young girl. It's happened before with a, uhm co-worker you say? Hmm well whatever you wanna call it. It's the power and financial imbalance really that is here at stake and even could turn into a risk for him. That's why I don't really like to post about it (in the other occasion I never did, and wont do it now either. A few know and even less know her name)

I also disagree about the hotel. Little research learns you, Pedro is the owner of the hotel and as said and expert and distiller, things we know interests him. I don't see why he would also need to follow the hotel, it was the man he was interested in and to get in contact with. If Vicky stayed there, no idea, she was there though as she followed the man as well.

Even more, if you take a look at where these fan pics are taken, you will easily find that they're taken right next to the hotel and the tattoo shop all 3 tattooers work at, they're close on the same road.

Just take a look at the addresses

if you look that up on Google maps you'll see this

Him walking with that smoothie right there tells me he stayed at the hotel got himself a smoothie and it looks like he was gonna run, or just finished a run and got himself a smoothie afterwards on his way to the hotel. So there is that.

Well I leave things at that, enough about this subject already. He's already bored in LA and Vicky, gosh wherever she is or what she's doing, I hope she has fun on her trip.

[pizzadramon]

I've been a reader since 2013, and this is spot-on! At the time I interpreted a lot of it as a satire/response to Bleach & Naruto specifically, with the emphasis on complicated power systems and detailed explanations with visual aids.

One of my favorite gags that I think may be lost on new readers is Spender's reaction to Max in chapter 1: "Black spectral energy!? That's... fairly common." To me that reads obviously as commentary on shonen stories from the previous decade frequently revolving around a Special Magic Child with Rare Powers. It's a deflationary gag, and a good one! But lately I've seen some folks take it at face value that black energy being common is like, somehow notable? When the entire joke is that it's not! And maybe the emphasis put on it by those two panels just doesn't read as a joke when you're not swimming in narutos, so it just becomes bizarre that he'd point it out otherwise. Idk.

It reminds me a bit of something from the Homestuck fandom*. Early on, some jokes are made about abstracting interactions with family members into RPG battles, which is clearly a joke about the absurdity of the systems involved. Years later, fans reinterpet those scenes as straightforward violence—"wow, I can't believe that guy would brutally beat up his own brother, he's abusive!" And the comic actually took that new reaction and folded it into itself, retroactively** making it true all along in a way that -clearly- wasn't intended at the time.

*full disclosure, I've never actually read HS but I've experienced it vicariously through podcasts

**I know being in conversation with fan reaction and retconning stuff is HS's entire thing so these situations aren't directly comparable but you get what I mean lol

I'm sure there's a bunch more examples throughout pnat. Tbh it never even occurred to me before recently that these jokes wouldn't be as obvious to new audiences, it's wild to think about

I always make an effort to look at paranatural through the ~2013 era lens it was conceptualized from, back when it was at it’s most subversive, in tandem alongside its contemporary lens. Because thats what Paranatural was, for those who aren’t aware — paranatural played off of & against the common shonen & cartoon tropes and character expectations that were prevalent in that age: the wise and just mentor, the bully, the action girl implemented to pushback against sexism + the subversion of the action girl, the excited rare skilled selfless battleprone protagonist, etc.

most new fans will likely see the comic and take it at face value — why shouldn’t they? — when in reality there’s so much more of a dialogue happening underneath the hood. There is so much underlying, forgotten context that makes paranatural, paranatural

[dilfmobius]

how about a slice of pie?

[imonlyhereforcrem]

Vin and Elend by Rocio Sogas

[pyotrkochetkov]

Martin Nečas and Andrei Svechnikov meet for the first time

[terresdebrume]

Joe: I can't believe I'm going to fuck Webster

The rest of Easy: I mean you don't have to

Joe, tossing his cigarette stub to the ground and marching off: No, I'm gonna

[stelmao]

I'M LOSING IT OVER ALICE AND SARA'S DIALOGUE IF YOU DON'T HAVE ENOUGH REKO ME-TOKENS HELLO?????

[kapsloc7]

turning a little meow meow into a little meow meow? hell yes.

anyways i remember really liking monster falls when i first got into the gravity falls fandom, and now that i am revisiting it i wanted to draw a little ford design ^^

[kirstielol]

ahh it's official, flight has been booked, i'm going to germany in july 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[kyouka-supremacy]

🤔.

[llama--plumbobsims]

granite falls - day 8

[delphinidin4]

The next time somebody tries to tell you that .gif is pronounced "jiff", ask them whether their family likes to exchange birthday jifts.

[longing4yesterday]

totally missed your post yesterday but i hope today doesn't suck and you're feeling all the better q <3 here's some fun little photos to brighten the day :) (and a little john snoopy bc it's good for the soul)

aww these are so lovely <333 the john and snoopy one is especially cute, they're matching!!! <3 today was a little bit better thankfully but i still appreciate it regardless, thank you simone!! <3