#also yeah i kind of do want to find other people with weird fun names

[pigswithwings]

now you need a friend named png, gif and............ and..................

an enemy named webp

mutuals tag yourself

[doodledrawsthings]

you. Oh my god, you. (Positive)

listen. Before I had internet access, all I had was 1 hour of allotted browser time, bing image search, and a single dantdm play through of a hat in time that never got finished. I googled fanart and got pretty much nothing, I googled fancomics and got pretty much nothing, but you know what I did end up finding?

your art.

from ages 11-14, my goal in life, in art, was your art. I can’t tell you how much I loved finding random screenshots of your posts, because I was always just so impressed by how clean and consistent your sketches are, how the characters always stay on model, the shape language, how you could somehow sketch a character in like 20 lines when it took me 50 to draw sans in my little spiral notebook— like! Holy shit! For years I have looked up to your art! There’s still a photos folder on my dads old huge-ass 12 inch work iPad labeled “holy crap” and filled with your art. Because it inspired me so much. It’s become an undeniable part of my artstyle, now — I still have fanart I drew way back in the day of Hattie and the rest, I didn’t even know anyone’s names because I couldn’t play the game, but you’re the reason I eventually did play the game. Your coffee shop au and different versions of the prince— one of those ieterations inspired the main character of my novel! Well, novel that I tried to write, I was 13 so it was eh, but I tried!!

I’m submitting this on-anon because I don’t want to out my age on the wide internet (I like my privacy) but. Your art has really meant a lot to me. It’s the reason I played hollow knight, and it’s the reason I kept trying to develop an art style I was happy with. You’re the reason I started scribbling comics in my notebooks. Being 13-14 was pretty much the worst two years of my life, but I had Bing image search and the occasional glimpse of your signature, and I’d be so happy every time I found a new (if crusty) three-times screenshotted jpg. You literally introduced me to the concept of polyamory and nonbinary-ness with the coffee shop au. I had no other access to that in my household, and. Yeah. It meant a lot to me.

Anyway. I’m so glad I’ve finally tracked you down (in the most non-ominous way possible) and I’m so glad you’re still active— Please never stop making art. Your art is incredible, and amazing, and also you never know who’s out there on Bing image search. Thank you for creating for as long as you have. You’re pretty much the reason I’m shooting for an art degree (Wish me luck!) so just…Thank you.

(Also I had no idea you were a professional storyboarder, which is insane because that’s what I want to be when I’m through college. Hey, maybe I’ll end up storyboarding a remake of something you’ve storyboarded! hehehe)

Hi anon!

So right off the bat, I gotta tell you that this message made me start bawling when I woke up and saw it. Like I had a full-on cry session while reading your message and lying in bed for almost an hour. I am crying as I am typing this response, on my phone, still in bed. It’s 11am and i woke up at 9. So I hope it turns out coherent.

The last two years have been. weird. I say that a lot because I wanna say “rough” but that still doesn’t feel quite right. I’m almost hyper-aware that there are so many people that have it worse than me rn, so it feels hard to even acknowledge when I’m going through anything, myself, sometimes- REGARDLESS, it’s been kind of an all-time low for my mental health. There was a point within in the last year where I just HATED drawing. I struggled to bring myself to work, I struggled to bring myself to even draw for fun. It felt like I was posting just to post, trying to keep people aware of my existence and it almost felt physically painful to force myself to sit down and do it, sometimes.

I’m getting better now, I think, but. Yknow.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the “oh I can make money off this,” “oh I can get attention off this,” “oh I can prove myself a functional person in society with this,” of it all. I forget why I actually do this, sometimes, or if I even enjoy it. And then I get messages like yours, about the kid with limited internet access looking for A Hat in Time fan art on Bing image search, and I get taken back to when I was a kid scrolling Google images and deviantart for the same thing.

I don’t mean to like. Foster some kind of parasocial thing with you or any one of my followers. There’s a reason I’m saying all this, I hope it ties up in the end.

We don’t know each other. I’m not some mysterious legendary artist, or whatever. I’m a person who gets burnt out, and jealous, and insecure. I need inspiration to function, just like you, and when I don’t have it, I get art block. But I also really like to draw fictional characters kissing and hanging out. I like coming up with comics and stories and playing out dramatic and funny scenarios in my head like I’m mashing Barbies together. And when other people tell me they enjoy the stuff I put out when I do this, it makes me really, really, really happy.

I think I needed to read your message, probably. With the state of… Everything… Right now, especially recently, I feel like a lot of artists are also struggling with a sense of purpose, pride, and reason as the world makes it harder and harder to even BE an artist, these days. And when I read this message it was like Anton Ego at the end of Ratatouille, I got taken back to when I was a kid looking at my favorite artists and studying their style and striving to be better and better at it over years of my life. Not just because I wanted a job for it or cuz I wanted to be a famous Disney animator or whatever, but because it was fun and I just liked doing it.

Thank you, SO much. I say this in the most genuine and earnest way I possibly can possibly express. I wish you luck on your own path in art and art school. And if you decide that animation industry is your thing, then I wish you the best in that endeavor, as well. I think I will keep making art for a long time.

Peace and love on the planet earth ✌️✌️✌️

[quartztwst]

Your Local Flower Bullies

(No Yan Sim AU)

Their names (left to right): Anisette Selcouth, Daisy Marguerite, and Rosa Russelliana!!

They don’t rule the school since the student council does but they do have power and they abuse it constantly. They come from rich families and their families constantly support the school which makes Headmaster/Principal Crowley SUUUPPERRR happy to allow their kids to attend the school.

They are also Quartz’ past friends. They hold grudges against her.

Anisette Selcouth

Anisette loves to put on a show where people believe she's this elegant and kind woman. She loves the praise and compliments so she shows off a lot and puts others down. Sometimes she'll even manipulate things into making herself look good. The student council and staff might believe she's a well composed and mature student but she's absolutely ruthless and terrible to certain classmates.

She only picks on the weak and lonely because she knows people won't believe them.

"Ah? Quartz? That dumb girl? Hah! I can't believe I used to be friends with her. If you want more information on her, then you have the wrong person. I barely knew her myself."

Anisette and Quartz were friends since middle school until Quartz left the friend group at the start of highschool. Anisette was clearly angry about this since she felt like Quartz was her closest friend.. yet... she didn't know her at all.

During their friendship, Anisette vented a lot to Quartz about her family. She never felt so vulnerable with a person before and really appreciated Quartz's comfort and support.. But Quartz would never share any personal information to her in return which annoyed her. She wanted Quartz to feel comfortable with her too. (Ok this sounds so gay but stay with me now)

Quartz was always there for her yet she left so easily. Did their friendship mean nothing? Was picking on other students too much? What did she do wrong?

Or is it that boy Azul?

Daisy Marguerite

Daisy is a bright but sneaky girl. She really loves to spread gossip and rumors. She's actually the one making up every single rumor. Not a lot of people suspect her because of her "sweet" attitude.

Although she has a friend group, she actually feels really lonely and talks to flowers like they're her friends. She realizes after Quartz leaving, they all were starting to drift away and pay attention to other things. She only makes up rumors and gossip so she could be together with Anisette and Rosa.

She feels really useless to everyone and so the only place she would feel useful in is with her flowers. They won't leave her because they need her right?

"Quartz? Oh, her!.. That lonely girl that likes Azul? I find her kinda weird hehe.. Hey! I heard that she's actually a mean person! She used to beat other students up during middle school. Like I might be a little mean... but Quartz is WAYY worse! Hehe!"

She hates Quartz and resents her. She didn't have to leave the friend group and ruin everything. She messed up the closeness and warmth they had. Why couldn't she just stay?

Daisy finds Quartz idiotic and selfish because now she's alone again. No one wants to hang out with her. They're all busy. They're all gonna realize how much of a bad person she was and make fun of her. She hates being a butt of a joke. She doesn't want that again now that no one will care.

Rosa Russelliana

Rosa is slowly becoming a reformed bully. In the past, she used to hang with Anisette and Daisy and just mess with other students. She thought it was fun at first but she slowly realized how wrong it was. She was also a slacker in her past school days. Her grades and attendance were LOW low.

Because of her horrible reputation and rumors of her beating up other kids, everyone was intimidated by her and her strength. She gave up on joining a club and stays by Anisette and Daisy, accepting her role as some mean girl. Most of the time, she's alone and doing her own thing though.

"Quartz? Oh, yeah. I remember her.. I was friends with her once. I always thought her attitude was kinda fake y'know. Maybe she was faking it for us? So she wouldn't get bullied.."

Rosa doesn't know the reason why Quartz left. She doesn't even know if she even attends the school anymore because she doesn't see her. But Rosa accepts it because she understands that the environment they created was horribly toxic.

[oh-no-its-bird]

recently, i've started to see things where tobirama is reincarnated as sakura or is sakura's "inner", which is really interesting. could i get your take on this?

Unfortunatley I don't actually know much ab Sakura's inner! I learned naruto lore via fanfiction (never actually touched any canon media, oops) and have only actually read like 3 Sakura centric ones, I straight up didn't even know Sakura had a multiple personality(?) thing going for her till a few months ago (and boy wasn't that a surprise)

I think Tobirama being reincarnated as her could be p fun!! But also I think I'd be more interested in telling a story where he just straight up reincarnated as someone not existing in canon, if only bc then he could also interact WITH Sakura instead of just being her

I find that a lot of stories that try to give Sakura agency just kind of toss her entire character out the window and start from scratch, which is fun and valid! But it's more fun for me to make direct, uncomfortable eyecontact w canon her and find increasingly stupid or chaotic ways to fast track that whole "character development" thing or at least find ways to explain why she's Like That(tm)

So yeah I don't have toooo much interest in Tobirama reincarnating as specifically Sakura or her inner, but I could be into a story where he just reincarnates in proximity to her and then see how they bounce off of eachother. Maybe as a sibling? That could be cool

If he's born a girl we can zap em with the trans beam on top of the body dismorphia of suddenly being a whole child, that could be interesting. The blatant sexism of naruto canon could also make for an interesting plotline if we want to actually get into that

I kind of like the idea of him not actually remembering his previous life, at least not in full. Maybe he has weird dreams sometimes, maybe he looks at photos of the Nidaime and gets weird feelings of dejavu.

I suddenly have a very specific mental image of him getting a scar on his cheek, where one of his tattoos used to be, and just staring in a mirror afterwards at this super weird feeling of dejavu mixed w a sensation of it not being right mixed w just general body dismorphia and aw fuck why does he feel like he's both a little more right and further from himself than he's ever been?

Anyways would he be born younger or older than Sakura? Older brother him is just super overprotective, often suffering from nightmares of sensing as Sakura and some unnamed "other sibling" of his dies. It could also mean he can interact with Itachi actually, maybe they can be emotionally stunted baby genius friends or smthn

But younger sibling him could make for a surprisingly compelling parallel with Sakura and Hashirama! Especially w how Sakura later goes on to train with Tsunade n stuff

Part of me wants to say he's still names Tobirama for simplicitys sake, he can just be named after the Nidaime or smthn. But also that feels a bit cheap even if it is easier, so at least for now we'll name him Tora

Him and cat Tora can square off for name rights idk

Tora speaking oddly formally for a civilian, and having the kind of respect for your elders that come from being a second son in an elder run clan in ancient Japan. He has an awful time trying to form emotional attachments with people, including but especially his parents, who for some reason never really felt like his

But also him having a super easy time being attached to his new little sister Sakura, who he refuses to see anything bad happen to ever

So Tora and Sakura's parents being like suuper traditional, which is why Sakura is Like That when it comes to boys (she's constantly being told she needs to find a man to take care of her) Tora acts as a good figure and role model in her life, so while she's still interested in romance like canon she isn't AS boy crazy and can do a bit of thinking for herself.

And then we can get some fun conflict between Tora and his parents, who unfortunatley don't get the whole trans thing and constantly insist he needs to either drop the shinobi thing and find a husband, or if he does keep going at the shinobi thing, use it to find a husband there then drop it

Yeah he's not doing either of those things.

(they find out he's friends w the Uchiha clan heir and immediatley get weird about it, all glowing with pride that he's "attracting such good potential husbands" n stuff (Tora is PISSED))

Anyways Tora being just alarmingly good at literally any jutsu Tobirama invented. Like, ALARMINGLY good. He has that first life muscle memory, which unfortunatley is NOT a valid alibi and he's about to get his ass beat for seeming to have reverse engineered secret jutsus he shouldn't be able to know.

It isn't HIS fault that just glancing at the flying thunder god technique that one time was apparently enough for him to instinctively understand how to use it!!! Maybe this "Tobirama" guy should have just been better at making his jutsu harder to understand, this is clearly not his fault

He manages to help avoid the Uchiha massacre by being friends with Itachi, the two of them both graduating early and at the same ages, joining the same team and then ANBU together and so on.

Tora being really strong and graduating early and all that only further motivating Sakura to be a super strong shinobi, just like her big brother! Maybe she and Sasuke can even bond or have met earlier through Itachi and Tora's friendship.

Sakura and Sasuke childhood friends agreeing to try and graduate early together just like their older siblings. Not really into sasusaku but Ill say Sakura can keep her crush on him but be actually normal about it via exposure plus maybe some boy advice from Tora (he's a shinobi, so if you really want to charm him, you'll have to beat him first)

She can maybe lose it with time (and exposure to him being a dumb cringe fail kid w his brother still around) and maybe go kiss Ino idk

Anyways, Tora and Itachi friendship. Shisui is also there!! (Love that guy)

They're dynamic is just emotionally suppressed bastard (thinks hes better than you) + emotionally suppressed bastard (knows hes better than you) + upbeat guy smiling at you as he holds a gun to your head

Shisui and Tora take turns driving the car as Itachi sits in the back seat peacefully eating some applesauce (he's just happy to be here)

They're gonna blow up the hokage tower for the good of the people 👍

They're on an ANBU team w Kakashi and Tenzo and forget about going grey, they're gonna make Kakashi's hair straight up fall out from the stress

Maybe Tora can move out of his parents house the first chance he gets, and then whatever place he manages to find can be a little safe place for Itachi. Itachi accidentally ends up almost moving in w him as things at home get worse and worse w the coup. He just stays over more and more and doesn't want to return home

Circling back to the "Tora instinctivley knows how to navigate Tobirama's seals/techniques" the most terrifying point of the story is when he sees Naruto's jinchuriki seal and realizes he knows how to mess with it

Uh oh!! Shouldn't have that information!!

Anyways take some doodles

(Danzo is "that jackass who won't let me look at the nidaime's old research" and Tora has a GRUDGE.)

[sentinelsthiccass]

TFO Actor AU Episode Four

More Hobbies

Starscream, Soundwave, and Shockwave are being interviewed.

Starscream: My hobbies? Well, I happen to be highly into fashion of the past!

Soundwave: And he always finds the most obscure weird vintage fashion pieces...

Starscream: They are not weird, they are art! You wouldn't understand! None of you would understand! The style, the elegance!

Starscream starts going on a rant and has to be stopped via Soundwave covering his mouth.

Starscream, grumbling after his mouth is uncovered: Whatever... anyways, does having a social media page for your pet count as a hobby? I have a page for my cyber-cat, Lord Bumble!

Shockwave: ...did you loosely name him off of B-127/Bumblebee?

Starscream: What?! No, don't be ridiculous! It has nothing to do with him.

Soundwave: Liar. You know one of your hobbies is also fawning over the little yellow guy, it's so obvious.

Starscream: I do not fawn over him!

Soundwave: Yes you do, just admit it already!

Starscream screeches in frustration and walks off.

Soundwave: ...guess it's my turn? One of my hobbies is DJing at a few different clubs. People really seem to appreciate how I do it and I'm happy to share my talent with them.

Shockwave: I go with him often. I don't really like clubs, but I want to be there to support my husband...

Soundwave: Oh, yeah, in case you guys didn't know, me and Shockwave recently got married. Bee was my best man and Star was Shockwave's and Alpha Trion officiated and Ravage was the cute little ring bearer... it was nice.

Shockwave: ...and then everyone got drunk and Starscream tried to fistfight Megatronus.

Soundwave: I still have the recording of Starscream getting his aft beat.

Shockwave: You should post it...

Soundwave: Maybe... Anyways, my other hobby is drawing while listening to music. I really like to just doodle whatever I feel when listening to the song. Just listen to the melody and let the pencil flow...

Shockwave: You have some really obscure singers you like, too...

Soundwave: Well, yeah, but I also like a lot of popular music. I mean, my main playlist varies from peppy pop songs to hard rock to folk songs.

Shockwave: It has over 3,000 songs...

Soundwave: Well, yeah, there's so many good songs I just hand to include!

Shockwave: I suppose so...

Soundwave: Anyways, your turn, dear!

Shockwave, suddenly nervous: Ah- uh- I like science. I perform all kinds of experiments. And I buy those chemistry sets for sparklings to see how far I can push them.

Soundwave: And he somehow manages to cause a mess whether it be fluids all over or a straight up explosion.

Shockwave: ...sorry.

Soundwave: It's fine, whatever make you happy, I'm fine cleaning up after it... just stop roping the minicons into your shenanigans...

Shockwave: But they have fun with it...

Soundwave: Yes, but they also tend to get hurt, even if the injuries are small.

Shockwave: ...anyways, I also like bugs.

Soundwave: He has a collection of terrariums with different bugs that he named. He cares a lot for the little critters.

Shockwave: They are so small and frail, yet so interesting...

Soundwave: You should do some experi-

Shockwave: NO!

Soundwave: ...you didn't let me finish.

Shockwave: I know what you were going to say... my beloved creatures are not test subjects and never will be!

[fcthots]

thinking abt wearing jason's initial on a necklace but in a taylor swift kind of way

-🕷️

THIS THIS THIS CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT

I WANT TO WEAR HIS INITIAL ON A CHAIN ROUND MY NECK CHAIN ROUND MY NECK NOT BC HE OWNS ME BUT CAUSE HE REALLY KNOWS ME WHICH IS MORE THAN THEY CAN SAY-

ANYWAy

Here's the thing about the fucking press, since the moment they found out Jason was alive, they've never let him breathe. Your relationship went public against your will only two months after he was declared legally alive. Since then the opinion on your relationship had fluctuated. Sometimes there were fan accounts and other times you were sent death threats. Jason did what he could, but he couldn't stop everything.

The worst that happened was when you went with some friends. It was just dinner on a balcony at a nice restaurant. Jason had gone to some concert with one of his siblings. To be honest, you were too drunk to remember which. You were out with three friends two of you were drunk. The birthday boy doesn’t like to drink, but he gave the ok for everyone else. One other friend stayed sober and offered to be the designated driver.

You're solidly drunk. Drunk enough to actually be excited to take pictures. Drunk enough to be laughing the whole time. Drunk enough to try to call your cat on the phone.

Either way, you're singing happy birthday while your friends are taking pictures so you lean over to kiss the birthday boy's cheek and tell him "HappsyBirthay!" He laughs and thanks you. It's a good time. Your other drunk friend kisses him on the other cheek and takes a picture of it on his phone. It's cute. It's fun. But it is 11:30 pm and time to go home.

You're about to get in the designated driver's car when he asks for your address. You don’t invite people over much, what with Jason having to go on patrol and bloody bats dropping in. You're also drunk enough to not know your address. "That's a relly diffisult queshion. Do you know the answer?" You look over to the birthday boy; he's been to your apartment a few times to have lunch and feed the cat.

He looks over at the designated driver. "I don’t know the address, but I know to get there... Don't worry about it. I'll take her home."

"We goin home?"

He laughs. "Yeah."

"Holy shit! Is Jason gunna be there?" He puts his arm around your waist to guide you into his car so you don’t fall.

"I don’t know. You said he was going out tonight, but I don’t know if he's back yet." He laughs again and waves goodbye to your other friends before he buckles himself into the driver's seat.

The car ride home is mostly quiet. You're half asleep, and it's not long until your friend is pulling into the parking garage. He taps your shoulder and asks for your key. You don’t know where it is. He asks for your phone. You hand it over, and he asks Siri to call Jason.

Jason picks up after half a ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, man. It's me. We're in the parking garage and your wonderful girlfriend is too drunk to find her keys. Any chance you're home."

You hear Jason's voice ask something about articles, news, and pictures before you fall asleep again.

A few minutes pass and someone's calling your name and unbuckling your seatbelt. You look over and see Jason leaning over you.

"J'son!"

"Hey, sweetheart."

"I missd you." He grabs your bag off the floor.

"I missed you too. Hey can you give me your phone?"

You nod your head and hand him the phone.

"I'm gonna pick you up. Ready?"

"Yeah!" He lifts you up while you shout "Weeeee!"

He closes the car with his shoe and turns toward your friend. "Thanks, man. Happy Birthday. Sorry about everything."

"'s no problem. Take care of her. Bye."

You don’t remember much of the elevator ride up or getting in pajamas or getting in bed. But you remember waking up. That wasn't fun.

Jason makes you breakfast, and that in itself isn't out of the ordinary at all, but he's acting weird. Every time you ask for your phone he says "I'll give it to you in a minute."

You can't take it anymore. "Jay, just tell me what happened. You're killing me. Did I post anything dumb while drunk again?"

"No." He sighs and grabs your phone out his pocket before opening up an article. You take your phone from him and read the headline. You feel sick.

"Jason Todd and Girlfriend Broke Up! Finally She's Gone"

You take a bite of eggs off Jason's plate and keep reading.

"Here's the evidence:

"nobody's heard from the couple for months, not even so much as an instagram post from the once vocal couple

"Todd was seen last night at a concert singing his heart out to breakup songs, images below

"and most damning of all: the now would-be ex-girlfriend was spotted last night getting cozy and leaving with new man, exclusive photos below!"

You scroll and see zoomed in photos of you kissing your friend's cheek and getting into his car. You bang your forehead into the counter repeatedly. Jason puts his hand over the spot you're hitting your head against. You look to him and he looks apologetic.

"I'd prefer if you didn’t read the rest. I don’t think Vicki Vale likes you very much. I'm having Bruce sue the company right now."

You try to hit your head into the table again and he grabs your cheek to stop you. He leaves his hand there. This time, you look apologetic.

"I'm sorry. It just makes me upset when people think I don’t love you or that you don’t love me." You meet his eyes and he's smiling.

"I had an idea."

He pulls two small boxes from his pockets and you stop yourself from making a comment about the size of men's pockets. Before you have the time to freak out, questioning what's in the boxes, he opens them. They're necklaces with the initials of your first names. He takes the one with your initial and puts it around his neck. The chain on his is longer than the other one.

"Obviously you don’t have to, I just had a feeling you might want to. I'm not trying to put a brand on you-"

You cut him off with a kiss.

"I'm never taking it off."

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Melon Bug (again)

Debut: Super Mario World 2: Yoshi’s Island

(I wanted to write some more about Melon Bug, and I liked the original post just fine, so this post will be a continuation since that one was so short!)

An isopod! Oh, joyous day! It may not look like one at all with that big ol’ nose, but when it’s rolled up, there is no mistaking it! Here’s a very fun fact: when an isopod curls into a ball, it’s called conglobation! Use that in your everyday lives.

Melon Bug technically isn’t an enemy, you know the drill, weird Mario friends, that usual thing. When curled up, Yoshi can lick them up and spit them out, defeating enemies they hit! Could this be the first instance of weaponized isopods?

The Player's Guide says "These feisty hoppers transform from bug to melon and back again." Feisty? They're only slightly more feisty than a real pill bug! And a real pill bug has a negative Feistiness Level. I don't think whoever wrote this has played the game, since Melon Bug is harmless! I also don't think they know about real pill bugs, because they clearly can't cogitate conglobation. A bug transforming into a melon? How unrealistic! What do they think this is, Trip World?

I think "Melon Bug" is a very good name. An incredible name, even! When Melon Bug curls up, it, obviously, resembles a melon, what with both being round with stripes. While real pill bugs don't really have "stripes", their tergites (armor plates) do give a "lined" appearance. If you ask me, Melon Bug could be a good name even for real terrestrial isopods!

What do YOU call pill bugs? I've always called them roly-polies, but they have so many wacky names. Woodlouse? Yeah sure, a bug that lives under wood, why not! Butchy-boy? I don't get it, but it's funny. Then there are all the names comparing them to pigs which I just do not get, but groundhogs also get compared to pigs in common names a lot, so maybe people just don't know pigs as well as they like to think. And THEN! England gave them a bunch of CHEESE-related names. What is happening over there? Are British people somehow making cheese from isopod secretions? Why would you call this creature a CHEESELOG? That's a straight up food! I kind of love this name for them for being so ridiculous! Anyway, my point with all this is that Melon Bug would be more actually fitting than the majority of the common names these have been given, but sometimes it is more fun to be unfitting!

Isn't it weird how Melon Bug's art doesn't quite look like the sprite? Such bulging eyes in the art, but little dots in-game... well, we now know the reason!

Remember Super Donkey, from the 2020 gigaleak? I feel like it's been far too forgotten for how interesting it is! Anyway, as I mentioned when talking about that game, Melon Bug was originally designed for it! It seems like the Yoshi's Island art was drawn before they decided to shrink its sclerae, and lighten its colors, but after they decided to give it little red shoes.

If you grew up calling roly-polies something else, or if you know fun names from other languages, I would love to hear them! And I hope you love and appreciate these creatures! They are so common and easy to observe, so rather than get jaded to their presence, celebrate them, and you will be able to find delight whenever you turn over a log!

[waywardxwords]

Witches

Summary: While hunting a witch, you accidentally stumble upon her collection of sex pollen. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: ~4.2k

Warnings: DO NOT ENGAGE IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18; THIS CONTENT IS RATED M FOR MATURE Swearing, Supernatural-y things (witches), sex pollen trope, smut (p in v, f masturbation), fluff

A/N: This is my first time writing Dean smut and also my first time using the whole sex pollen trope. But this was fun, and I enjoyed writing it. If you’re feeling up to it, please let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!

There wasn’t anything you hated more in this supernatural world than witches. They were ruthless, conniving and downright batshit crazy. But alas, if you and your hunting buddies didn’t hunt them, then no one would. They would continue wreaking havoc on anyone they wanted, and you couldn’t have that.

So now you found yourself in the living room of a woman you had suspected spent her free time doing witchy things. You had no idea what you were looking for–bones, spell books, weird herbs or plants; the options were literally endless. 

All you knew: people in this town all connected to this woman were ending up in rather interesting predicaments and you were determined to find out why. 

“Don’t touch anything that looks suspicious,” Dean’s voice came through the other line as you used one hand to press your phone to your ear. “I really wish you would’ve waited for me. We should’ve gone in together.”

“Yeah, well, there’s no time for that,” you muttered as you searched. There were a bunch of old books, but none of them screamed hocus pocus to you. You fumbled with a tiny wooden trinket box that had intricate lines and details on the outside. As you lifted the lid, you saw it contained some kind of yellowish-green powder. “This is interesting…” your voice trailed off as you brought the box closer to investigate. With your phone pressed between your shoulder and ear, you lifted the box. 

“I’m serious, do not touch anything. You listenin’ to me?” You rolled your eyes at his voice. 

“I’m not touching anything, Dean. Cool it,” you mumbled as you examined the substance. Within a moment, your nose suddenly felt tingly and itchy. It started before you could stop it—sneeze. A cloud of the yellowish-green powder encircled your face and created a haze. Your eyes immediately felt watery. The phone fell from your ear as you hurried to place the box back down on the table and brushed your face with your hands. As you pulled your hands away, you saw dusty yellowish-green hues. You missed Dean calling your name through the phone, but he didn’t miss the words that fell from your lips in the background. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” You breathed as you plucked the phone from the hardwood floor and brought it back to your ear.

“What’s happening?” Dean’s voice was elevated and you heard the rev of the Impala’s engine in the background.

“Uh, Dean?” You watched the powder on the floor around you. “I accidentally touched it.”

“God dammit,” he groaned. “I’ll be right there.”

Dean had gotten to the witch’s house in minutes, which made you realize you probably should have waited for him and gone in together. But that didn’t matter anymore. You were waiting for symptoms to start–every little thing you felt made you wonder if it was caused by the mysterious substance. 

“Talk to me, Sammy,” Dean answered the phone roughly as he sped to get back to the motel. He said it was the safest place to be in case something happened. Sam was on his own hunt, about four hours away. “It’s like a yellow color,” he described, as Sam probably asked what it looked like. 

“Like pollen,” you murmured from the passenger seat. Suddenly, you felt warmth in the pit of your stomach. It was an odd feeling, almost like you had just consumed a warm cup of tea or hot soup. 

“Yeah, like pollen,” Dean repeated into the phone. The warmth wasn’t going away, it was only getting hotter. So hot, you felt the need to pull off your leather jacket even though the cool autumn air nipped at your skin. Dean did a double take from the road to you, and back again. “What are you doing?” He pulled the phone slightly away from his mouth. 

“I’m getting really hot, Dean,” you mumbled, worry crept through your words. You didn’t get worried often—or show it, at least—but these damn witches…all bets were off. 

“She says she’s getting hot,” Dean relayed over the phone before pulling it away and hitting the ‘Speaker’ button. 

“Uh, okay…so she sneezed into a box of pollen and now she feels hot?” Sam was typing as he spoke. 

“Somethin’ like that,” Dean confirmed as he turned into the parking lot of the motel. By now, your skin was on fire. The heat had spread from just the pit of your stomach to your chest, your arms, your face, and…other places you preferred not to mention. 

“I’m on fire,” you mumbled as tears stung your eyes. As soon as the car was in park, you had the front passenger door open and moved to be outside of the Impala. The cold air felt glorious on your skin, but the fear kept your feet moving. 

“She’s burning up, Sammy. You got anything? Anything at all?” The worry was present in Dean’s voice, as well, though you barely noticed over the waves of heat coursing through you. 

Once the two of you got into your shared motel room, you beelined for the bathroom. Your fingers wrapped around the edges of the porcelain sink and you closed your eyes. The coolness from the surface of the sink calmed your shakes, even if just for a moment. 

“A what pollen?” Dean asked into the phone, as if he couldn’t have heard Sam correctly. After a pause, he continued. “You gotta be kidding me.” He breathed, but didn’t hesitate to get his mind back in the game. “Okay, walk me through it.” 

Dean’s tone should have made you nervous, but all you could focus on was the way your heart nearly vibrated in your chest. There was a heat blazing so hot in your center, that you realized at that moment it had created a slickness in your underwear. Your nipples were so hard, they ached against the soft cotton fabric of your bra. 

You glanced up to look in the mirror for the first time. That’s when you noticed the heat had risen and created patches of redness up your chest and into your cheeks. Your breathing was labored, almost, and you realized it was as if you had just had…

“Okay, hear me out,” Dean grumbled as he tossed his cell phone onto his bed and ran his hand over his mouth as he tried to find the right words. “You’re not gonna like this…but it’s called sex pollen.” He cleared his voice before he said it. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Your chest rose and fell with each breath, you eyed him carefully but that made you feel even hotter. The warmth was overwhelming, so you fanned yourself with one of your hands. 

“I know, I know,” he held his hands up as if he were just the messenger. “It’s a spell. It makes you wanna get it on, Marvin Gaye style.” He couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the corners of his lips. You rolled your eyes and threw the hand towel at his face, missing slightly. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” 

“Get it together,” you huffed. “So how do I break it?”

Dean gnawed at the inside of his lip, which was something you hadn’t seen him do before—or noticed, anyway. God, you couldn’t look away from his mouth. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you thought you might crumble. Your fingers reached out quickly to grip the doorway of the bathroom. 

“From what Sam has read,” he paused as he nervously rubbed at the back of his neck. “You gotta…do it.”

Your eyes narrowed at him. “Do it?” You repeated. “Can you be a grown-up for five seconds, please?” 

“Sex, darlin’,” he closed his eyes and said it hurriedly. “You gotta have sex.” 

All of the color drained from your face. Even though you knew that was what he meant, it was still a lot to take in (no pun intended). You closed your eyes for a moment as you tried to force your brain to work, but all of the blood seemed to be rerouted to other parts of your body. 

The feelings that ran over you made you realize you were feeling extreme sensations of being turned on. This went far above any other time you had felt this way—thinking about it almost made it worse. 

“You still with me, sweetheart?” Dean’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. When you peeled back your eyelids, you were met with his green gaze. You had never seen his eyes so green before—and in the hue of the motel bedside lamps, you spotted speckles of gold and brown. You had never noticed how beautiful his eyes were before. 

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered over the word. “So what now? Just try to let it pass?”

Dean cleared his throat and broke away from your stare, his tongue darted out over his bottom lip again. God dammit, if he doesn’t put that tongue away… You tried not to squirm standing there in your jeans and a tank top. “Uh, actually, Sammy said if you don’t��take care of it,” he waved his hand in front of himself in a circular motion. “It uh, it can be fatal.” 

“I’m sorry, come again?” You blinked once, then twice. 

“Yeah, uh, you gotta take care of it,” he brought his hand up to rub at the back of his neck again. You noticed the way his bicep flexed and tugged at the flannel that covered his arm. The heat in your parties made you think they may actually catch on fire. 

“Fuck, Dean,” you groaned and turned to move. The only thing that seemed to bring you any kind of relief was pacing. The friction your jeans caused between your legs was incredible. “What if…” you hesitated as you processed. “What if I try to ‘take care of it’ myself?” You used air quotes and looked back at him. 

He seemed to process for a second. “I mean, maybe? I don’t have any idea…” the tension in the room was so awkward. But the more time that passed, the harder it was for you to look at Dean and try to not jump his bones. 

“Okay, go to the bathroom…do not come out, you hear me?” You instructed firmly. Dean grabbed his phone and nodded. 

“I’ll text Sammy and see if he’s found anything else,” he mumbled and hurried to the bathroom before he closed the door. You weren’t sure, but you could’ve sworn you saw him blush—and Dean Winchester never blushed. 

By the time you heard the door click closed, your fingers worked the button on your jeans. As soon as the clasp was freed, you shimmied them down your thighs and kicked them off to the side. You decided to leave your underwear and tank top on, fully aware of the man just on the other side of the bathroom door. 

As you dropped down on the bed and sat up against the headboard, your knees parted automatically. The heat that escaped between your legs was so intense that the cool air made you gasp. You closed your eyes as your hand snuck under the band of your black panties. The only thing you could see was Dean…his chiseled jaw, the way it tightened when he was mad, or frustrated or deep in thought; the rough stubble scattered across his lower face and chin; the way his eyes bore into you every time he looked your way. These weren’t new feelings, just feelings you had been able to avoid for so long. Now that the sex pollen had taken over, all bets were off. 

Your index finger circled your clit. You tried to be quiet, truly. This situation was awkward enough and you knew the doors in this motel were practically cardboard and didn’t contain the sound. But the moans still fell from your lips hastily. You couldn’t stop them once you started. You dipped your fingers down and couldn’t believe the wetness there; the feeling was overwhelming. You squeezed your eyes tightly shut once more, envisioning the god of a man on the other side of the door. And then it happened. “Ugh, Dean,” his name rolled off of your lips dripped in absolute bliss. 

“Uh, you okay in there, sweetheart?” Fuck. He had heard it. The blush rising even stronger in your cheeks literally burned your face. Tears you hadn’t realized had pooled in your eyes blurred your vision. 

“God dammit,” you groaned. No matter how hard you tried, you knew this wasn’t working. “I’m uh, I’m fine, Dean.” You hoped it would be enough to appease him. 

“Listen, uh, Sammy just wrote me back. He said it’s not gonna work…you, uh, taking care of it yourself,” he cleared his throat twice. Oh awesome, you thought to yourself. Both of the Winchesters know I’m trying to masturbate this spell away… You knew what that meant. Before your brain could process, you heard him again. “You decent? I’m comin’ in.” 

You practically squealed and clawed at the comforter to cover yourself. The door to the bathroom creaked open and Dean hesitantly peered around it. By the time he made it into the room, you were mostly covered but your right leg had slipped out under the comforter and Dean caught a glimpse of skin from your foot all the way up to where your underwear sat above your hip. 

Your eyes connected and you noticed his jaw tightened. But this time, it wasn’t because he was mad or frustrated…maybe in deep thought, but something felt different; something felt darker than that. 

“It’s not working,” you murmured, your chest still heaved with each heavy breath you took. Your fingers gripped the comforter so tightly at your chest, your knuckles were white. 

“I know, sweetheart,” his voice somehow sounded deeper than it had moments before. You weren’t sure if you were imagining it, or maybe it was the sex pollen. But either way, it made your body tremble. 

You followed Dean’s gaze to your leg—he absolutely saw the tremble. 

“Listen, I don’t want to make this weird,” he rubbed a hand down his face again. The way his mouth dropped open made the heat rise even more. “But you can’t fix this by yourself.” You knew he was hesitating; hesitating to take it further. You wondered if it was because he didn’t want it, maybe he didn’t want you. 

“Help me fix this,” the tears blurred at your eyes again. “Dean, I’m begging you. Everything is on fire. My body literally feels like I’m going to combust.” You hated that your voice cracked, but you were truly starting to freak out. “I don’t want you to do something you don’t wanna do…”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dean nervously chuckled as he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I don’t want you to do something just because you have to…” his voice trailed off as his eyes studied you. Realization set in that Dean wasn’t able to hide his attraction or interest in that moment. His jeans had tightened quite a bit in his groin, revealing a bulge that made you practically pant.

“I need you, Dean. But I also want you,” you practically drooled at this point. “I want you so, so bad.”

Dean’s hands moved to unbutton the buttons to his flannel quickly—you scrambled out from underneath the comforter to where he stood at the end of the bed on your knees to help him with the rest. You gave up after the second button and pulled the two sides harshly apart, sending buttons flying to bounce onto the multicolored carpet below. 

“Christ,” he breathed as he moved to undo the metal button on his jeans. Instantly, his hands cupped your cheeks. He paused for only a moment. After one more look into your eyes to make sure this was okay, you met in the middle as your lips crashed against one another. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” the words rolled off of your lips like it was nothing—but it was so much more than nothing. It was something you hadn’t meant to say, but the sex pollen haze made your filter dissipate. Your lips pulled apart with a pop and your eyes found his. 

“God, me too,” he almost growled as he toppled you back onto the bed once more. Dean was on top of you, your legs parted automatically. He held himself up with one arm and kissed you in a way you had never been kissed before. 

“Dean, I need you to touch me. Please,” the need in your voice was mixed with begging at this point. “Everything is on fire.”

“I’m gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” his words drawled together, intoxicated with lust. The hand that wasn’t supporting his body weight trailed down your side. He pulled back and sat on his knees, pulling you with him so you were sitting up. His fingers grasped the hem of your tank top and pulled it up and over your head in one swift motion. He reached behind you and masterfully unclasped your black bra. As soon as it fell away, the cool air from the room bit at your already hardened nipples, causing you to hiss out loud. 

Just as quickly as he pulled you up, he pushed you gently back to the bed on your back as he settled between your legs once more. 

“You’re so god damn beautiful,” he murmured as his lips connected with your neck. He planted hasty wet kisses from just below your ear lobe, down your collarbone to the top of your breasts. 

“Dean,” your hips writhed against him. You needed more. 

“I know, baby,” he breathed as his hand finally began to trace down your side, his fingertips left goosebumps on their way until they reached your hip bone. He pulled the material of your underwear until they slid off of your hips. He pulled until they were down near your feet where you could kick them off. 

His fingertips trailed to your center and circled your clit just as you had done moments before. His index finger slipped easily inside of you before he decided to add his middle finger to the mix. 

“Oh,” you breathed out, your head tilted backward so your neck was exposed. Dean took the opportunity happily, his lips sucked and kissed every inch of skin there as he pumped his fingers into you. “Dean, please.” You were doing a lot of begging, but you literally couldn’t help it. You felt like you would implode if he didn’t take you right then and there. 

“Patience is a virtue, sweetheart,” he murmured against the flesh of your neck.

“I don’t really have time for patience,” you groaned. Dean pulled back for a moment, almost as if he had forgotten this was initiated from the sex pollen to begin with. He swallowed hard as his eyes trailed your naked body, his jaw tightened. He quickly pulled off his flannel, within seconds his fingers pulled at the hem of his t-shirt. Next up was his jeans, and then his boxers. 

Your body squirmed at the sight–he was stunning. Your eyes trailed down his biceps to his forearms–down his chest, to the delicious V and then…

Your breath got caught in the back of your throat, but before you could gasp for air, his lips were back on you again and you felt his hardness against your thigh. “I don’t have a condom…” he grumbled as his head dropped into the crook of your neck.

“Birth control, Dean,” you mumbled against his hair. His lips found yours again, moving against them as if his life depended on it–and, well, yours sort of did. He pulled back for a moment and found your eyes, as if he was asking if you were sure about this. You knew there was no going back at this point, so you raised your head to capture his lips in yours again. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth gently, which elicited a moan from him.

And then in a second, you felt him enter you. It could have been the sex pollen, but you didn’t think so. The feeling was the most incredible sensation you had ever felt. The way your body fit against his was something you could have never imagined—even in the nights you had drifted off to sleep thinking about what this might feel like. 

He moved slowly at first; too slowly to appease the effects of the damn sex pollen. Your hips rose to meet his and you wrapped your legs around his waist, linking your feet behind him at your ankles. He obliged, and angled his body in a way that you could feel absolutely every inch of him inside of you. 

“God damn, you feel so good,” he groaned as he pressed his forehead to yours. You had never felt so close to someone in your entire life, and you prayed it wasn’t just another symptom of the pollen. 

“You’re tellin’ me,” you moaned as he reached down with the arm that wasn’t supporting his weight and pulled your leg behind your knee so it rested in the crook of his elbow. “Jesus, Dean.” You bit down on your lower lip so hard you thought you tasted blood for a second. It didn’t matter; nothing mattered in that moment. 

He rocked against you so hard, the headboard bounced off of the thin wall of the motel room—the picture that hung above you rattled. Nothing mattered. 

Dean brought his lips hastily to your ear and kissed just below it before he whispered, “I want you to touch yourself, sweetheart. Let yourself go.” You shuddered at the feeling of his warm breath on your earlobe and the words he whispered huskily. You could hardly take it. 

Your release had already started to build—which wasn’t too surprising, considering how turned on you were to begin with. You snaked your fingers down between your bodies, the feeling of his pelvis crashing against yours sent another wave of goosebumps over your skin. 

You began to circle your clit with your fingertip as he secured your leg in the crook of his arm, his bicep flexed tightly. The sensation was overwhelming and you found yourself practically babbling moans and words strung together. “Fuck, Dean. Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” that elicited another chuckle from his lips but didn’t disrupt his movements as he plummeted into you. It felt like he was breaking through your cervix at this point. 

“Let yourself go,” he could feel your muscles beginning to twitch around him. His words tossed you over the edge. “Take what you need, sweetheart.” 

That was it. You felt like your release was practically boiling as it shook you to your core. You saw flashes of color, and your ears were ringing. Dean moved through it for you as you rode the wave. You vaguely heard yourself yell out his name as everything crashed around you. 

“You okay? You want me to stop?” He almost winced as his hips urged him to move but he wanted to respect the fact that the spell you were under had most likely dissipated now. 

“Don’t stop,” you hurriedly told him as you rocked your hips against him once more. “Your turn.” You leaned up to connect your lips to a sweet spot on his neck, your tongue ran over his stubble and nipped gently which elicited a groan from the back of his throat. 

“God damn,” he growled as his pace quickened again. Your muscles still twitched from your orgasm, you thought it might roll into a second wave—which would have been a first for you. 

After a few more thrusts from Dean, he practically collapsed on your chest. Your fingertips found his back, coated in a thin layer of sweat. You dug your nails gently as you drew small smoothing circles upon his skin. After a moment, he rolled so he was on his back just beside you. 

“That was magical,” your words practically slurred together as the room was filled with heavy breathing from both you and Dean—your chests rose and fell with each breath. 

Dean’s eyes were sealed shut, but you saw the grin that pulled at his lips and he chuckled. 

“You sure that’s not the sex pollen talkin’?” He drawled, his words etched together as well—a combination of exhaustion and post-sex effects. 

You gently bit at your bottom lip and glanced at him from your side of the bed. His eyes were still shut lazily, a slick layer of sweat glistened in the dim light of the motel. Maybe it was still sex pollen remnants, maybe not—but something gave you a sense of courage you had never had before. You leaned over his body and inched towards his face. “Guess we’ll just have to let round two decide…”

His eyes shot open but his grin stretched wider so you could see his bright white smile. His gaze trailed from your eyes to your lips. Just before he leaned up to press his lips to yours, he said, “Guess we will, won’t we?” 

And for the first time in your entire life—you were thankful for witches.

---------

A/N: Eek! I always get nervous posting ~smut~, but here we are! I love hearing what you think, so please don't be afraid to comment! Even if it's something I could work on for next time. Hope you enjoyed it!

Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @lyarr24 @roseblue373 @nelachu2423 @deans-spinster-witch @stillhere197

[0asisbliss]

Parings: Yan!Feitan x fem!Reader

A/N: This takes place in a zombie AU I also put Feitan words in a little bit of broken English because that’s kind of how it is in the anime. Sorry for any spelling errors.

Warnings: Mentions of torture, and Feitan being his own warning.

Blood. There was blood everywhere not just the undead’s, but the living. Now that the laws of society have been lifted ever since the breakout. Everyone is either killing to live, or living to kill. Either way you wanted no part of it. Even if your boyfriend was apart of some disgraceful acts. Every time he just explains all that with it being “harmless fun with friends”.

His friends weren’t that terrible at least to you. When the virus broke out Feitan urged you to come with him to be safe. Explaining that you two would stay there for the time being together. While you were panicking about everything he was as cool as a fucking cucumber. Calm as ever seeing people get mauled, and bitten. You’ve seen at least a hundred people die in this week.

I mean people were turning into walking dead creatures. And the worst part about it they weren’t even dying they were turning into cannibalistic-man biting monsters. Feitan started dragging you everywhere he went. Going to get supplies? You’re coming with him. Need to find a restroom? Yeah, he’s going.

You witnessed what the phantom troupe can do. Honestly you found it quite horrifying. Your just glad you with them instead of against them. Until the breakout you had no idea Feitan did all of these things. Yes. He was a bit experimental, and a little weird, but these were the things you liked about him. He stuck out, and he was different.

He didn’t give you the same ol’ love story other guys did. He was thrilling and made you do different things. He honestly took you out of your comfort zone. Feitan wasn’t normal and you knew that and that he was strong, but you would’ve never thought he would kill.

The first time you saw him kill was when he slaughtered a man that was trying to hit on you during the time you, him, Nobunaga, and Phinks were looking for resources. You were sure you could’ve handled yourself, but he took it upon himself to ruthlessly kill that man.

You also had your fair amount of encounters with zombie you shot a couple and got away. You thought they were all the same you know the ones in the movies. They were slow, blind, and basically walking corpses, or those were just the ones you encountered.

There were categories when it came to the “zombies”. There were whispers, walkers, and creepers.

Whisperers, are zombies that were once people who could use nen. Now they use all of their nen to lure in the uninfected. Ex: Calling their name, looking like the uninfected, impersonating a loved one, etc. Advantages: Amazing hearing, sight, looks almost humanly, could be mistaken for a survivor, and can use nen.

Walkers, are your typical walking dead zombie they roam around like undead corpses, and any living thing that moves is automatically food. Advantages: None.

Disadvantages: Slow, blind, decaying skin, after a couple of days their skin breaks down, eventually rots.

Creepers, hide in the daylight and come out into the night lurking, and waiting for any survivors, and uninfected to make the wrong move. They pounce on people who come in their sights. Advantages: Good eyesight, hearing, and reflexes.

These were the categories Chrollo set every zombie in from his observations. Each zombie category showed different skills, and abilities. Only the troupe knew about these categories. They were sure people who were smart enough picked up that not every zombie acted the same, but unlike them you were smart you just weren’t outside enough to understand the aspect of every one of them.

It was the new normal that you stuck by feitan at all time. Even when he was with his “friends” you had to warm up to them, but they were nice the more you got to know them. Pakunoda shared her food with you, Shizuku always talked to you not wanting you to feel lonely, and Machi know how clumsy you can be, so she sticks around you just in case you get any cuts.

You and usually keep medical kits, and antibiotics in case anyone needs them. The people around you rarely get hurt if they do you, and Machi are quick to the rescue. Even with all of these people surrounding you, you can’t help but think about if your friends and family and if they are alive.

You can’t count how many times you’ve broken down about it. Every time you confront Feitan about it he always tells you there’s nothing you can do about it.

Even though you want to seem irritated at his response you can’t help but think he’s right. You’d be risking your life going out there to find any of them. You cant fight, and all you have is a gun. Though you do have Feitan, but when you’re with him he likes doing things his way like you when have a certain time to the eat and bathe.

Everything centered around him basically, and how he thinks he can keep you safe. Closet thing you get to seeing other people other than Feitan and his friends are the group of people that circle the block of buildings everyday to look for survivors. Sometimes every time you see them some people are missing from that group.

You wonder what happened to them. Maybe they turned into zombies, or maybe they were killed. Either way you felt bad for them. They were such nice people going out of their way to look for survivors, and giving out food. You wondered why you never saw anyone get anything from them. They seemed pretty generous to you.

Feitan got back inside after looking around the city for resources. Fortunately he came back with a lot of things. Tissues, canned food, wipes, more antibiotics for you to treat people with, and something in a pink bag. Feitan looked at you before walking over to you and staring into your eyes. He handed you the pink bag and walked into another room in the building. You concluded that he was going to talk to other members of the troupe.

You were kind of hesitant to opening the bag, but your curiosity got the better of you. It was a bracelet with the first initial of your name. You looked at the bracelet and put it on your wrist it was a perfect fit.

You smiled at the bracelet. Feitan watched you through the doorframe secretly there was just the slight smile on his lips. He would never admit it, but he wanted you to stay happy even in times like this.

You looked out the window to see that the group of people were still outside.

They were waving up at the window to get your attention. You looked down at them, and wondered what they wanted. You opened the window, and stuck your head out of it.

They held up a sign made out of cardboard stating “We need help finding our team member.” They turned the board around to the other side. “She has red hair a crop top, and blue jeans on. Have you seen her?”

You shook your head. Giving the group a bit of a pitiful look. That’s when Feitan came up from behind you and shut the window.

“What are you doing?” He asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“The people outside lost one of their friends. They had asked me if I saw one of them-.”

“What people? I see no one.”

“Huh? I- they were just out there I swear Fei-.” You stutter trying to prove there were just people outside.

“You are hallucinating. You need sleep.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue with Feitan so you just did what he said. You weren’t hallucinating you knew you saw them you just had to prove it to Feitan.

The next day you decide to get proof that they are out there. They would surely come back. You made it your plan to go out there and meet them, and get a picture with them to show Feitan. You were going to take your gun just in case, and a camera. Just because you wanted to meet them didn’t mean they were good people you still had to be aware of the world you were still currently in.

You would get a couple of photos of them, and meet them. Just to see how they were as people, and maybe you could join their group part time. Maybe even help them look for their lost teammate. Though you had to wait when Feitan left to leave again.

You told yourself that you needed to be back before he did. You saw him mad before, but you could tell he was really serious about you not leaving where he placed you, so you needed to make sure to avoid that scenario.

You waited a couple hours, when Feitan got himself together to leave.

“I’m going now. Don’t look out the window again. I have something to tell you when I get back.”

“What is it?” You asked wanting to know now.

“I said when I get back.”

“What if you don’t come back.” You spat at him.

He only glared at you before leaving. He didn’t know why you were acting so different lately. Maybe you just needed some fresh air?

“I’ll take you somewhere when I get back.” He thought to himself.

You waited till you saw him leave with Phinks to prepare your bag to leave. You had a gun, and couple knives Feitan gifted you, your camera, and bullets. You waited till you saw them again and rushed outside to meet them. They were walking in front you, you just needed to get their attention.

“Uhm hi!”

They all turned in unison and looked at you weirdly. Their eyes seemed dazed, almost like they were confused. They were pale looking you just thought they haven’t eaten in a while. I mean it is hard to find food around here right?

“You guys seem a little hungry yeah? Uh I have a couple of scraps in my buliding I share it with my uh boyfriend so-.”

You were cut off by one of the members loud groaning. You felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise. You stood there confused on why you felt afraid, and why they were acting like this.

Feitan was raiding abandoned buildings nearby with Phinks. Phinks was looking out the window while Feitan was in the back ripping some dudes teeth out.

He spotted you frozen in place standing behind whisperers.

“Oh shit. Feitan I think there’s a problem.”

“What?” Again there was a hint of annoyance in Feitan voice due to Phinks distracting him from torturing his poor victim.

Feitan walked over to Phinksand looked out the window. His eyes widened in shock. He ran out the building trying to get to you as fast as he could.

Back with you, you smelled the familiar smell of a rotting corpse though you didn’t see any dead bodies around. You looked back up at the group of people one last time. These weren’t people.

You turned around to run away. In the midst of running you pulled out your gun to turn around and shoot the zombies. You fired three bullets at the zombies. The bullets stopped in mid air and paralleled back to you.

“But how? These aren’t people who can use nen?” You thought to yourself.

Your eyes widened in fear. Just as you were about to meet your fate Feitan pulled out his concealed sword, and adverted the bullets killing off three of the zombies. Although there was one left.

“I’ve got this one.” Phinks was eager to see what the whisper had in store for him.

Feitan didn’t hesitate to grab you and bring you back to your place of residence. Once you two got there you didn’t say anything, and turned around to leave. Feitan stopped you right in your tracks.

“What the hell were you doing?”

You got teary eyed and looked away.

“I wanted to show you that the people I was talking to yesterday were real, so I went out to get a photo with them. I just wanted to show you that I wasn’t some crazy person.”

You stumbled on your words and began to choke on your sobs. Feitan just stared at you he wasn’t big on physical affection nor did he really understand it, but he could understand when some needed a hug. Feitan went up to you from behind and embraced you. It was short, but it was something nonetheless. You didn’t want his warmth to leave, so you grab his hand bring him back close to you. You started to mumble little sorry’s here and there.

You two stood there for a little while before he took you to your shared bedroom. You won’t be going out for a while after this.

[randomlyblues]

Yandere!Zane x Librarian!Reader

TW: Kidnapping not beta read

You didn't understand how you ended up in this situation. The High Priest of O'kasis was here at your doorstep demanding information that you don't have.

"I don't take lightly to people who waste my time, so I will ask you again. Where is the information about the Divine Warriors! This can't possibly be all the information that you have!"

"Again Sir, I don't have what you seek! They have burned all the knowledge about them years ago."

You felt a pinch of fear when his eyes widened a little at the tone of your voice that was directed to him. You didn't mean to raise your voice at someone with a high status as you but he was getting on your last nerves not getting the hint that this is all that you can offer him. You have heard stories about how he uses his status of being this 'religious symbol' to cover up his cruel actions and even take part in executing people, if they deserve it or not.

Zane was quite impressed with you. He's lucky that his mask is hiding the grin that was starting to form on his face.

He originally wanted to come to the village library hoping to bump into you. The first time he took notice of you was when he had to wed a pathetic couple. They wanted him to take a days trip just to get them married at a village with the name 'Phoenix Drop', making him stop with is work. That is when he saw you in the crowd speaking with an excuse of a Lord that they call Aphmau. The conversation was lighthearted but nothing worthy for him to pay any mind until you started to mention Lady Irene and how his name was in the mix of the conversation. The way you said his name made him feel a sort of way. Zane found himself wanting to hear it again. He kept a note to himself that you may be valuable to him, drowning the weird feeling he got from his name being spoken.

Later in the evening he caught notice of your snappy attitude and how you tend to be more to yourself yet also spare a kind smile to people. Zane doesn't understand why you have caught his attention, he found himself tracking everything you did. To him you were just a normal pathetic thing with knowledge he can use, yet here he was admiring the power he can see that you hold. He just wants to break it. No not break it. Absorb it. Make it his. Make you his. He wants not only the power of your knowledge but you. So here he was, after the celebration had ended, in your little library admiring the audacity you had to talk to a high being in such a way.

" Of course, my apologies for speaking to a lady in such a rude manner," he bowed to you. You raised your eyebrow at his apologies, you didn't take him as a man that would do that.

"It's nothing," you brushed it off not noticing the way he looked at you as you begin to look for a girdle it can be easier for the man to carry them.

" I am guessing that you will be purchasing instead of returning since you have such a ways trip?"

"Can't spare to give them for free?"

"Will you have my head if I don't?" You said ,not meaning for it to sound appalled by his playful tone. Zane started to laugh at your statement causing you to tense up. Oh this beating heart of his is making you less and less annoying than other people. Oh is he going to have fun with you.

"Why would I do such a thing? That is a sin in the eyes of our dear Matron." You took notice at how his smile reached his eyes when the whole night that never seemed to be the case when other people approached him. Maybe the stories about him aren't true.

"Yeah you're right that was stupid of me to even say"

"Don't worry about it, it was a nice joke. What is your name?" It was a useless question to even ask since he already got his guards to find out for him a few minutes prior in order to find this place. You tell him your name.

" That is such a lovely name."

" Why thank you High Priest," you bow. Oh did he enjoy that. A weak thing like you bowing to him and looking at him like that. What he would do is just for you to look at him with those eyes for all eternity. Yet the way you say his status instead of his actual name caused him to make an unsatisfied face.

"Would you like to accompany me to my ship to help me?"

You took a moment to think about it. It wasn't an unusual request from people so you didn't know why you were so hesitant. It was probably just the tales about him that have stopped you or maybe the fact he has guards that could do that for him. Realizing you have taken a while to reply you tell him yes and follow.

After helping him with the books you tell him about his payment.

"Oh yes of course."

Before you knew it, you were knocked out quickly. Zane looked down at your unconscious state. Oh how pathetic and vulnerable you were, don't worry he would take care of you.

Part 2

[sleeplesslark]

i love kabuto but his ugly fit pisses me off sm. And the worst part is it's not even his own style, its his goon uniform. I wonder did others chunin examinees find it weird that kabuto's whole team dressed exactly the same or did they just think that as like an impressive display of "close bond and team harmony"? It's giving company t-shirts with the word "family" on it.

Omg thank you anon this is such a fun ask. "Goon uniform" is fantastic.

Agreed on Kabuto's part 1 outfit being a uniform. He has so little control of his outfits through his life really. Him being shoved in yet another uniform once he joins the relative freedom of Otogakure is darkly funny in a way. "Yes you can go find yourself but...yeah no we have a dress code here." Admittedly I do kind of love the gloves, shame they don't show up after pt 1.

Also the first time he gets freedom to dress himself as an adult he keeps trucking with the uniform for a bit + cloak and then just goes snake cloak and pants. He's such a dork in all the most delightful ways. Then right back to the orphanage uniform as far as we know!

I wish we knew what the other chunin exam people thought of Kabutos team dressing the same, but no one outside Orochimaru, and the team themselves, seems to have opinions on Yoroi and Misumi. It isn't like Kabuto and Orochimaru think much about them either tbh.

Maybe Orochimaru wanted their outfits to match like their names do.

Thank you again for the ask, this made my week.

[beevean]

If I’m being honest, you are all getting way too hung up on fake diseases and attacking a writer as if he personally attacked your family. It’s a strange obsession you have and you guys always come at any small nitpick as if it’s the end of the world. It’s a weird obsession and you have all been doing it for years. Maybe you liked Sunset Heights getting a remix but you also play victim when people don’t like the 2010s games. You can see Sonic is more successful now and doing things much better but you just like to sit in your anger towards the series for years. I’ll add that you’re much more sane in your reactions than RandomtheFox, but this whole side of the fandom here is so pathetic. The endless loop of anything new coming out for Sonic, and your little posse hating on it because it isn’t the meta era or because Ian Flynn has his name on it makes me glad you guys are a small minority in the fandom.

Do you want to know why we're discussing this?

If you go back and read our discussions, see how much we brought up with this little detail!

I looked up the effects of low gravity on the human body: I learned something new about science. I tried to put into words why this detail is harder to accept than Sonic breathing in space: this is about stories and world building. I immediately found a replacement idea. We discussed about SA2, its gameplay mechanics, its cutscenes. Someone even brought up the idea of drawing parallels with AIDS and how it would affect Maria. Negativity can stem from a place of reasoning, "how would I do that?", and it makes me use my brain in a fun way. I'm aware it's a inconsequential detail, but I'm having fun!

As for the rest of the message, yeah, we are a minority. Which makes me wonder why you care so much about a group of, what, four people?

Why don't I get any engagement when I'm positive, but suddenly people are up my ass when I talk about something negative? I didn't even tag most of my posts. Bro half of the Sonic fandom blocked me already because I'm a dirty sinning IDW non-enjoyer. I am not bothering anyone.

By the way, my negativity about IDW once even resulted in me writing a fic about it. Again, creativity and genuine discussions about writing a story and its downfalls. It nourishes the brain.

I don't like this new direction for Sonic. There, happy? I don't feel catered to, as a 2000s fan, by all this "REMEMBER WHEN WE WERE COOL????" stuff, not to mention I'm just not a Shadow fan so seeing him with wings and shit does nothing for me. I am annoyed because this used to be a franchise dear to me, but the current environment, both games and fandom, alienates me. I am also aware that, precisely because I'm in the minority, I'll just have to wait until ST changes trend again.

If my writer side activates when I talk about a writing decision I don't like and I'm having fun dissecting it, let me, alright? You can find me cringe, if you want to, but I'm not doing anything different than other fans, just directed towards a less acceptable target and in the privacy of my blocked blog.

Also: to be perfectly honest, if it only takes me one day of mild bitching to get anons yelling at me that I'm a joyless bastard doomed to be sad because I refuse to be happy, it kind of makes me want to be saltier out of spite. I'm already a bad person, might as well, right?

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Tenebrous at 3

Matt Blairstone: i'm matt blairstone of tenebrous press Blairstone: publisher of such quality literature as split scream Blairstone: featuring bitter karella's The Ballad of Horse Girl Blairstone: available where ever fine books are sold King: sorry, what was that name again? King: i forgot Blairstone: it's bitter karella Blairstone: B-I-T-T...

Blairstone: a lot of people know us mostly as the publisher of Bitter Karella's the Ballad of Horse girl Blairstone: but in 3 years Tenebrous Press has published plenty of other fine horror literature Blairstone: like the anthology Your Body is Not Your Body, featuring Bitter Karella's The Divine Carcass Blairstone: and the Brave New Weird anthology, featuring Bitter Karella's Low Tide Jenny

Blairstone: i'm matt blairstone and this is my associate alex woodroe Blairstone: an authentic Romanian crone King: kind of young for a crone isn't she? Blairstone: oh it's state of mind Alex Woodroe: i cast the evil eye upon you, nenorocit

King: tell us more about tenebrous press Blairstone: well it's an indie press dedicated to all that's weird Woodroe: foolish youth hold your tongue! Woodroe: these occult secrets are not for the ears of ignorant outsiders! Woodroe: begone, outsider! your kind isn't welcome here!

King: look i'm just trying to get some service at this mysterious roadside inn at the edge of the dark woods King: and it's almost like you don't want my business Woodroe: in old country, we chase you with pitchfork mob for less than this!

King: fine maybe i'll just be on my way Woodroe: leave but be ye warned! Woodroe: stay off the moors! Woodroe: stray not from the road! Woodroe: don't go into the deep dark forest! Woodroe: and stay away from the mysterious castle! King: that's a lot to remember King: i'd better write this down

Blairstone: can you believe that we've been publishing fine horror such as Bitter KArella's The Ballad of Horse Girl for 3 years now? Blairstone: where does the time go? Alex Woodroe: only in america! Woodroe: what a country! Woodroe: in America, you find party Woodroe: in soviet Romania, party find you! Woodroe: [turning to camera] the fun fact is that pigs, like humans, can get sunburned

Blairstone: wow! 3 years! can you believe it? Woodroe: in romania, we mark occasion by sacrifice of the cockerel and eating of the turnip Woodroe: we thank president Dracula for our good fortune Woodroe: and vice president Frankenstein Woodroe: and speaker of the house wolfman Blairstone: i'm learning so much

Blairstone: of course in 3 years we've published other things Blairstone: like colin Hinkley's the black lord Blairstone: about an eldritch god in the woods menacing an innocent family Woodroe: in old country, is documentary filmed in real time as it happen

Blairstone: and Anthony Engebretson's lumberjack Blairstone: about a lumberjack who's a real fuck up Engebretson: he's also dealing with this evil imp Engebretson: but yeah also he's a fuck up Woodroe: in America, you jack lumber Woodroe: in old country, lumber jack you!

King: wow it sounds like you've got some real WEIRD literature there! Jeff Vandermeer: did someone say... WEIRDDDDDD?? Blairstone: That's right! there's so many weird and unusual books Blairstone: and its all happening right now... Woodroe: at tenebrous press!

In all seriousness, Tenebrous Press is doing incredible work on the indie horror scene and, if you haven't read their offerings, you owe it to yourself to take a gander over at https://tenebrouspress.com/. My very first story ever published was The Divine Carcass in Tenebrous' Your Body is Not Your Body, and I would not be where I am today had it not been for Tenebrous. Go see what weirdness they've got cooked up for their three year anniversary!

[loverslantern]

The Hunter and The Witch: Dean Winchester x fem! reader

Description: Sam, Dean, and Y/N investigate a series of mysterious drownings. They discover the town inhabitants a dark secret buried long ago.

Warnings: cannon violence, mentions of drownings, gun usage (sort of), maybe cursing, bad flirting, death, mentions of death

tag list: @athenalive, @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld

Word count: 7,066

Dead In the Water

(Masterlist, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter)

We sit at the diner part of the Inn that we’re staying at.

Dean sits in front of me circling obituaries in a newspaper to find our next hunt, Sam having left for the bathroom. My laptop is out as I type away on the new article I had to write for my work deadline, our plates of food are mostly empty, now pushed to the side as we continue our tasks

A pretty waitress, whose name tag reads ‘Wendy’ approaches our table. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks with a charming smile.

And despite how attractive she is, my eyes aren’t on her but the man in front of me. Deans looking up at her grinning around the pen he’s chewing on and god I don’t know if i’ve ever been this distracted.

My mouth falls a little bit agape as I look at him, perfect smile, messy hair, a sort of 5 o'clock shadow going on, and a pen pulling at his bottom lip. My cheeks burn and I know I must look like an idiot.

“Just the check, please.” Sam answers sitting back down in the seat next to me. This pulls me out of my love sick stare, I take a sip of what’s left of my water trying to cool myself down.

“Okay.” Wendy says, walking away.

Dean drops his head, then looks at Sam “You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while.”

He points to Wendy, who’s back is to us, “That’s fun.”

He looks at Sam and then at me, like he’s expecting some kind of reaction from me. But I remain quiet.

“Here, take a look at this, I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Last week Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water; nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago.” Dean gives up, handing Sam the newspaper who tilts it so that I could also see it.

“A funeral?” Sam asks

“Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty coffin. For, uh, closure or whatever” Dean acknowledges.

“Closure? What closure? People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them.” Sam replies, clearly angry.

“Something you want to say to me?” Dean challenges.

“The trail for Dad. It's getting colder every day.” Sam answers.

“Exactly. So what are we supposed to do?” Dean pushes back.

“I don't know. Something. Anything.” Sam answers.

“You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?” Dean snaps and suddenly I feel like I'm a little kid watching their parents argue while I'm stuck in the middle just sitting there.

“Yeah, I know you do, it's just—“ Dean cuts him off, “I'm the one that's been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there. Okay?” Sam rolls his eyes at this.

Wendy walks by again, catching Dean's attention, full on distracting him.

I clear my throat wanting to change the subject, “Lake Manitoc. Hey! Well doesn't that just sound so interesting.”

This gets Dean’s attention back, away from Wendy.

“Huh?” he asks.

“How far?” Sam asks, catching on to my idea.

If there was an award for how quickly someone could make others uncomfortable I’d have to give it to these boys. From arguing over hunting and their Dad in front of their friend to getting distracted by a hot waitress. But if they did get an award they’d probably argue over that too.

The Impala pulls up in front of the Carlton house.

Dean knocks on the door, a young guy with short brown hair answers it.

“Will Carlton?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, that's right.” Will confirms.

“I'm Agent Ford, this is Agent Hamil, and that’s Agent Hayden.” Dean informs, referring to himself, then Sam, and then me.

“We’re with the US Wildlife Service” He goes on, holding up an ID to match his lie.

Will takes us around the house to the dock, where his father sits.

“She was about a hundred yards out. That's where she got dragged down.” Will explains.

“And you’re sure she didn’t just drown?” I ask, even though it felt inconsiderate.

“Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub.”

Ok yeah, definitely didn’t just drown then.

“So no splashing? No signs of distress?” Sam questions further.

“No, that's what I'm telling you.” Will responds, clearly getting annoyed.

“Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?” Sam asks.

“No. Again, she was really far out there.” He said, frustrated.

“You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?” Dean asks further, trying to cross some things off the long list of creatures who could be responsible.

“No, never. Why? Why, what do you think's out there?” Will asked, pushing for answers.

“We'll let you know.” I respond simply, feeling bad for attacking him with questions when his sister just died.

Dean gives me a nod to start heading back to the car.

But Sam doesn't move with us, instead he pushes on with the questions, “What about your father? Can we talk to him?”

We stop walking, turning back to hear the response.

Will looks towards his father, Bill, and looks back at Sam. “Look, if you don't mind, I mean...he didn't see anything and he's kind of been through a lot.”

“We understand.”

And we do, we’ve seen these sorts of things break people apart, families even. We’ve seen these things break apart our own families, and we struggle each day to not allow it to break us. Even if we never bring it up, not even to each other.

“Now, I'm sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?” Sheriff Jake Devins asks us, having decided talking to him would be the next best course of action.

“You sure it's accidental? Will Carlton saw something grab his sister.” Sam informs

“Like what?” Devins asks, leading us into his office motioning for us to sit. “Here, sit, please. There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake.”

Sam and Dean sit, the sheriff pulling up a third chair so I could sit too as he keeps talking. “There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person, unless it was the Loch Ness Monster.”

“Yeah. Right” Dean laughs.

“Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still…we dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there.” Devins explains, taking a seat.

“You do have to admit it’s weird, I mean that's three missing people all in relation to the lake” I press.

“I know. These are people from my town. These are people I care about.” Devins answers, eyebrows scrunched together with worry.

“Anyway...All this...it won't be a problem much longer.” Devins sighs.

“What do you mean?” Dean asks, leaning forward slightly.

“Well, the dam, of course.” Devon clarifies.

“Of course, the dam. It's, uh, it sprung a leak.” Dean guesses.

“It's falling apart, and the feds won't give us the grant to repair it, so they've opened the spillway. In another six months, there won't be much of a lake. There won't be much of a town, either. But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that.” Devon explains.

There’s a light tap on the door followed by a brunette woman peeking her head in, “Sorry, am I interrupting?”

We all stand up at the same time, weird, since we were done with our questions anyways.

“I can come back later.” The woman adds.

“No no it’s okay, we were just leaving” I reply with a friendly smile.

“Gentlemen, ma’am, this is my daughter” The sheriff explains, motioning his hand towards the woman.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dean.” He shakes her hand.

Maybe he makes it painfully obvious or maybe I've just known him for so long that I can now easily tell when he wants to hook up with a woman. I know Sam has this ability too as we give each other a knowing look from behind Dean's back, standing on either side of him.

“Andrea Barr. Hi.” She introduces

“Hi.” Dean answers.

“They're from the Wildlife Service. About the lake.” Devon informs her.

“Oh.”

That’s when a small boy with long brownish-red hair walked around Andrea.

“Oh, hi!” I greet the kid, having spotted him first, giving him a little wave.

But he gives no answer or greeting of any kind, walking away without saying a word. Andrea followed closely behind him.

“His name is Lucas” Devon states.

“Is he okay?” Sam asks.

“My grandson's been through a lot. We all have.” Sheriff Devon stands going to his office door, “Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know.”

We all leave the office, including the Sheriff himself. Dean asked one final question, “Thanks. You know, now that you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?”

“Lakefront Motel. Go around the corner. It's about two blocks south.” Andrea answers

“Two—would you mind showing us?” Dean asks

She laughs, “You want me to walk you two blocks?”

“Not if it's any trouble.”

“I'm headed that way anyway.”

I look at Sam again and without words we have a conversation on how ridiculous and slightly annoying this is.

Andrea turns to her father, “I'll be back to pick up Lucas at three.” Then to Lucus, “We'll go to the park, okay, sweetie?” She kisses his head and then turns our way to lead us.

“Thanks again.”

Andrea leads us along the street, Dean making conversation. “So, cute kid” He says.

“Thanks” she responds simply.

“Kids are the best, huh?” He tries again as we cross the street, but she ignores him. We keep walking, shortly coming to a stop in front of the Lakefront Motel.

“There it is. Like I said, two blocks” She states with an awkward smile.

“Thanks so much” I say sincerely, feeling bad for Dean having dragged her here just for a chance with her.

“Thanks.” Sam says too.

She nods her head at us before addressing Dean, “Must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.”

A laugh slips past my lips before I could stop it (for Deans sake). “Ohhh I like you” I can't happen but say through laughs. I get a sharp glare from Dean but a contrasting soft smile from Andrea.

She leaves, calling back over her shoulder, “Enjoy your stay!”

“'Kids are the best'? You don't even like kids.” Sam points out, turning towards Dean with a questioning look on his face.

“I love kids.” He responds

“Mhm” I hum sarcastically

“Name three children that you even know.” Sam challenges. But as predicted Dean can’t even come up with one. Sam gives him a pointed look before walking towards the hotel and I follow after.

“I'm thinking!” Dean yells after us.

We walk into the motel's office, Sam’s talking to the clerk and I can’t help but unfocus my eyes staring at the unpleasantly patterned wallpaper. I’ve been traveling with Dean for hardly a month and he’s managed to flirt with practically every woman he’s seen, and yes I know this is an exaggeration.

Each woman, each time he flirts or even winks at another girl a pain rings true in my heart, one I hate to say I'm becoming familiar with.

It was that moment, that one small moment of waiting for keys to our motel rooms that I decided it.

From now on I won’t feel jealous or even that stupid pain in my heart when he’s with another woman, even though I know that isn’t how it works.

I’ll try to forget that I love him, I'll pretend those feelings aren’t there just so it doesn’t become painful to be around him. Even though I know it’s impossible to forget you're in love with Dean Winchester.

I dropped my bag off in my room, now entering Sam and Dean’s.

Sam’s working on his laptop while Dean’s going through his clothing for I have no idea what.

I take the seat across from Sam as he reads what he finds.

“So there’s the three drowning victims this year.”

“Is there anything before that?” I ask

“Yeah. Six more spread out over the past thirty-five years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it's picking up its pace.”

“So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?” Dean asks.

“Unlikely, considering there hasn’t been any spotting or legends around the town. Like for the Loch Ness there’s been more than a hundred eye witnesses, but for this, none.” I pipe up.

“I was thinking the same thing. Whatever is out there, no one’s living to talk about it.” Sam adds, getting Dean to stalk over and look at the laptop.

“Wait, Barr, Christopher Barr. Where have I heard that name before?” Dean points to the screen.

“Isn’t that Andreas last name?” I ask.

“Christopher Barr, the victim in May… Yeah Y/N’s right. Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband, Lucas's father. Apparently he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued…Maybe we have an eyewitness after all.” Sam informs.

“Jesus Christ” I sigh.

“Yeah, no wonder that kid was so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over.” Dean adds.

There’s a sound of kids laughing and playing as we approach the park, reminding me of similar times. We approach Andrea who’s sitting on a bench, “Can we join you?” Sam asks her gently.

She looks up at us, “I’m here with my son.”

Dean looks over at Lucas who’s sitting down with toy soldiers and some drawing materials.

“Oh. Mind if I say hi?” Dean asks her, she nods her head and he heads over.

“Tell your friend this whole Jerry Maguire thing is not gonna work on me.” She tells us, Sam sits next to her as he answers, “I don't think that's what this is about.”

I opt to stand, leaning on the arm of the bench. I take in the soft chill breeze and the kids running around. A feeling of peace creeps into my bones and warmth within my heart as I watch Dean interact with Lucas, a mix of admiration and longing in my veins.

Barley five minutes go by before he’s walking back to us, the warmth within me still hasn’t flickered out.

“Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad's accident.” Andrea speaks up.

“Yeah, we heard. Sorry.” Dean answers, she nods.

“What are the doctors saying?” Sam asks and I can’t help but think if maybe this is too invasive.

But whether it is or not doesn't seem to matter as she answers, “That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress.”

“That can't be easy. For either of you.” Sam comforts.

“We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw…” She breaks off.

“Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with.” Dean offers, I know he’s speaking from experience.

“You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish—“

Lucas walking up to us cuts her off.

“Hey sweetie.”

Lucas doesn't acknowledge her, he just hands Dean a picture. One he drew himself, telling from the use of crayon.

“Thanks. Thanks, Lucas.”

We’re back at the motel. Deans sitting on his bed flipping through channels while I'm sitting next to him reading a book, a sort of habit we picked up when we were younger.

Sam enters the room, “So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asks, putting the remote down, I place my book down.

Sam sits on the bed next to the one we’re on, facing us, “I just drove past the Carlton house. There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead.”

“He drowned?” Dean asks.

“Yep. In the sink.” Sam confirms.

“Pardon?” I question, I mean how do you drown in a sink, of all places.

“What the hell? So you're right, this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else.” Dean spoke.

“Yeah, but what?” Sam voiced.

“I don't know. Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water...water that comes from the same source.” Dean listed

“The lake.” Sam suggested.

“Yeah.”

“Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time.” Sam responded.

“And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere. This is gonna happen again soon.” Dean says, moving to sit on the edge of the bed towards Sam.

“And whatever it is, it for sure has to do with Bill Carlton.” I add on.

“Yeah, it took both his kids.” Dean confirms.

“And I've been asking around. Lucas's dad, Chris, he’s Bill Carlton's godson.” Sam reveals.

“Then let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit.”

Bill Carlton’s sitting on a bench on the lake's dock.

From here you wouldn’t expect anything sinister from the relaxed big lake.

“Mr. Carlton?” Sam voices as we approach his sitting figure.

“We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind.” He continues, gaining Mr.Carlton’s attention.

“We're from the Department—“ Dean attempts to say, getting cut off by Bill. “I don't care who you're with. I've answered enough questions today.” A weak mix of tiredness and sadness etched on his voice.

“Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there? Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Will's death—we think there might be a connection to you or your family.” Sam explains, despite Carlton’s previous response.

“My children are gone. It's...it's worse than dying. Go away. Please.” Mr. Carlton pleads, looking down at his lap.

We all give each other a look, scrunched eyebrows and sympathetic faces. It’s within that look that we decide to head back to the Impala knowing we won’t get anything more from Bill Carlton.

“What do you guys think?” Sam questions as we approach the car.

“The poor man has been through so much…” I trail off, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“He’s also not telling us something” Dean adds, and I can’t help but agree despite how bad I feel for the guy.

“So now what?” Sam asks, leaning on the car.

Dean goes still, stiffening.

“What is it?” I ask tilting my head

“Huh…Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something.” Dean suggests. He pulls out a piece of paper looking at the Carlton house, he tilts it for us to see revealing the drawing Lucas made.

“I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea.” Andrea speaks, closing the door behind us as we enter her house.

“I just need to talk to him. Just for a few minutes.” Dean reasons.

“He won't say anything. What good's it gonna do?” She responds.

“Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something's happening out there.” Sam explains, and I can’t imagine how ridiculous that sounds to her.

“My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all.” Andrea states clearly, voice laced with grief and anger.

“If that's what you really believe, then we'll go. But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son.” Dean pleads.

Andrea nods in defeat.

She leads us to Lucas’s room, he’s coloring while toy soldiers stand guard around him. Dean enters crouching down by Lucas while we wait in the doorway, “Hey, Lucas. You remember me? You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, I need your help again.”

Lucas continues to color, refusing to acknowledge Dean who pulls out the original drawing, “How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me.”

But again Lucas keeps coloring. Dean tries again, “You're scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too.”

I remember the day he told me that story, it was the same day my mom had died and he was trying to comfort me having understood the feeling of losing a mother. I was thirteen, him being two years older, and his mom had already been gone for eleven years. But the grief that was apparent when he told me all those years ago, like it had happened the day before…I sometimes still see it now.

That got Lucas’s attention, he drops his crayon and looks up at Dean handing him a picture.

“Thanks, Lucas.”

We’re back in the Impala, Sam’s holding the drawing Lucas made of a yellow house near a church with red bikes outside.

“Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died.” Dean says.

“Well it’s said that going through a traumatic experience could make someone more sensitive to psychic tendencies.” I offer, recalling some information I read somewhere.

“Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please.” Dean questions, it’s clear he cares about the kid that he’s even worried about Lucas.

“All right, we got another house to find.” Sam responds, referring to the drawing of the yellow house.

“The only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone.” Dean grumbled, complaining.

“See this church? I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here.” Sam states, looking at the drawing.

“Oh, College Boy thinks he's so smart.” Dean mocks, even though we both know it was pretty helpful information.

“You know, um...What you said about Mom...You never told me that before.” Sam admits, the mood changing quickly.

“It's no big deal” He responds before continuing, “Oh God, we're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?”

“Aww, you know you’d love a hug” I tease, patting his shoulder from the back seat.

He rolls his eyes, starting the car.

After driving around for a while we finally approach a white church that looks similar to the one Lucas had drawn. Dean holds up the drawing, comparing the two. There’s the yellow house next to the church and a wooden fence near the house. We look between each other knowing that this must be it.

We cross the street, Dean knocking on the door to the yellow house.

“We're sorry to bother you, ma'am—but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle.” He asks the small old woman that answers the door.

She lets us in as she answers, “No sir. Not for a very long time. Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now.

“The police never—I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared.” She sighs continuing, “Losing him—you know, it's...it's worse than dying.”

I nudge both boys motioning towards the many toy soldiers lying on a table.

“Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?” Dean questions.

“He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up.” The woman explains.

Dean picks up a picture from the mirror of two boys, one who I assume is Peter with a bike.

He reads the back, “Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy.”

We’re back in the car, Dean driving.

“Okay, this little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow.” Sam remarked.

“Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?” Dean questions.

“And Bill, the people he loves, they're all getting punished.” Sam adds.

“D-Do you think Bill did something to Peter?” I stammer.

“What if he killed Peter?” Sam asks.

“Peter's spirit would be furious. It'd want revenge. It's possible.” Dean remarked, making a sharp turn presumably towards Carlton’s house.

The Impala pulls up in front of the house, we get out and Sam knocks on the door. “Mr. Carlton?” he calls out, the loud roar of an engine cutting off a second knock.

We go around the house seeing Bill out on the lake in his boat. We ran to the end of the dock, yelling.

“Mr. Carlton! You need to come back! Come out of the water! Turn the boat around!”

“Mr. Carlton!”

“Sir! You need to turn back”

Whether he’s choosing to ignore us or really doesn't hear us will remain a mystery as the water rises, flipping him and his boat over. Vanishing.

“Sam. Dean. Y/N” Andrea calls out as we walk into the main room of the police station with Sheriff Devins.

The Sheriff goes up to his daughter, having some sort of conversation that we can’t hear from where we stand.

Lucas looked up from where he was sitting, looking terrified. He jumps from his seat and barrels into Dean grabbing his arm.

“Lucas, hey, what is it? Lucas.” Dean speaks, looking down at the kid.

Lucas whines, looking up at Dean. Sam and I look at each other and then back to the scene unfolding in front of us.

“Lucas.” Andrea orders from where she stands.

“Lucas, it's okay. It's okay. Hey, Lucas, it's okay. It's okay.” Dean tries to sooth him before Andrea pulls him away and leads him outside, but Lucas’s eyes remain on Dean.

Sheriff Devins struts over throwing his jacket down as he leads us into his office.

“Okay, just so I'm clear, you see...something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill—who is a very good swimmer, by the way—into the drink, and you never see him again?” Devins begins.

Dean glances at Sam and then me, “Yeah, that about sums it up.” He nods.

“And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible? And you're not really Wildlife Service?” Devins lists out, the last one making my eyes widen.

He continued, “That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you two.”

“See, now, we can explain that.” Dean says, trying to cover up our initial lie.

“Enough. Please. The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again.” Devins suggested.

“Door number two sounds good.” Sam answers simply, but I'm not so sure if I agree.

“That's the one I'd pick.”

We left swiftly, only stopping at the motel for our belongings before we were back in the car heading for the interstate.

“Green.” Sam announces, breaking the silence in the car.

“What?”

“Light's green.” Sam answers, clarifying.

Dean turns right. “Uh, the interstate's the other way.” Sam states, getting a simple, “I know.”

“But Dean, this job, I think it's over.” Sam replies.

“I'm not so sure.” Dean responded simply, really not letting anything up.

“If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest.” Sam reasons.

“All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?” Dean challenges.

“But why would you think that?” Sam asks him

“Because Lucas was really scared.” He answers.

“Dean’s right, somethings not right with this ending” I chime in

“I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay.” Dean clarifies.

“I expect this from Y/N. But you? Dean. Who are you? And what have you done with my brother?” Sam questions, looking from me to Dean.

Dean glances at him, “Shut up.”

————————————————

We pulled up in front of Andreas' house. Sam chiming in one more comment, “Are you sure about this? It's pretty late, man.”

“Better to be wrong, then to not have checked” I answered, hugging my jacket closer to me.

Dean rings the doorbell. At that moment, Lucass opens the door, breathing heavy and clearly terrified.

“Lucas? Lucas!” Dean yells as Lucas turns around and takes off, without a second thought we follow after him.

Water pours down the stairs as he leads us up them and to the door with more water coming from it.

Lucas pounds on the door before Dean pushes him over to me, kicking in the door. As Deans about to enter Lucas grabs hold of him, so instead me and Sam enter.

Sam half kneels aimlessly sticking his hands into the water. When she surfaces for just a moment, I manage to grab underneath her arm closest to me trying to pull her out. She goes under again but we keep pulling until finally she’s let free and we’re able to pull her out.

She coughs up water as Sam leaves her to me going to grab something behind us. I hold her to me in an attempt to block her from the boys behind me along with the cold. Sam taps on my shoulder handing me a large fluffy towel while his head is facing away. I grab it, quickly covering Andrea with it.

She sits up fully, breathing harshly wrapping the towel tighter around herself. I sit next to her rubbing her arm soothingly, the bright moonlight shining on her back.

It was a while before Andrea felt comfortable to stand, Lucas immediately running up to her in a hug. After their reunion she went to get dressed asking if i’d stay in the room with her, I knew unless her bedroom had a water source she’d be okay but I wasn’t going to argue with a woman who’s already been terrified so I obliged.

I stood in the room facing the door as she got dressed, she was slow but I didn’t care.

And when she broke down crying I held her until she calmed down a bit.

Dawn was breaking when I’d finally got her to sit down stairs in the living room. Sam sat across from her while Dean was looking through the bookshelves that lined the wall.

“Can you tell me?” Sam asked.

“No. It doesn't make any sense. I'm going crazy.” She started crying again, putting her face in her hands.

“Your not crazy” I tell her.

“Tell us what happened. Everything.” Sam adds.

“I heard...I thought I heard...there was this voice.” Andrea recalled.

“What did it say?”

“It said...it said 'come play with me'. What's happening?” She sobs into her hands.

Dean approaches us with a book of some sort in his hand, he puts it down in front of Andrea opening to a picture of a bunch of boys in a uniform that looks like boy scouts. “Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?” He asks.

“What? Um, um, no. I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures.” She moves her finger over to another picture, kid Jake standing next to Peter.

Dean looks up at us, “Chris Barr's drowning. The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the sheriff.”

“Bill and the sheriff—they were both involved with Peter.” Sam adds.

“What about Chris? My dad—what are you talking about?” Andrea asks, looking between the three of us.

Dean looks to the side, “Lucas? Lucas, what is it?”

He asks the boy staring out the window. Lucas opens the door and walks outside and we follow.

“Lucas, honey?” Andrea calls out.

Lucas then stops and looks at the ground then at Dean.

“You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?” Dean commands.

Andrea pulls Lucas back into the house, Dean heads to the Impala and back, returning with shovels. We start digging, and it doesn't take long before Sam’s shovel clanked against something.

Almost in sync we drop to our knees, digging with our hands, pulling out a red bicycle.

“Peter's bike.” I murmur.

“Who are you?” A commanding voice rings from behind us. We turn around only to be met with the Sheriff pointing a gun at us.

“Put the gun down, Jake.” Sam reasons as we drop the shovels.

“How did you know that was there?” Jake questions, gun still raised.

But he does not get the answer he’s looking for, Dean instead questioning him, “What happened? You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake and then buried the bike? You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried.”

“I don't know what the hell you're talking about.” Jake replies with venom.

“You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell I'm talking about.” Dean continues.

Andrea suddenly runs off yelling, “Dad!”

“And now you got one seriously pissed-off spirit.” Dean finishes.

“It's gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love. It's gonna drown them. And it's gonna drag their bodies God knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter's mom felt. And then, after that, it's gonna take you, and it's not gonna stop until it does.” Sam adds.

“Yeah, and how do you know that?” Jake challenges.

“Because that’s exactly what happened to Bill Carlton” I huff.

“Listen to yourselves, all of you. You're insane.” Jake seethes, tightening his grip on the gun.

“I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us. But if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust. Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake.” Dean spits a reply.

“Dad, is any of this true?” Andrea asks weakly.

“No. Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous.” He accuses.

“Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me.” Andrea commands and he does, “Tell me you—you didn't kill anyone.”

He doesn't reply, instead looking away. “Oh my God.” She gasps.

“Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank.

Oh, Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It's not rational.” Jake explains, lowering his gun.

“All right, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now.” Dean orders.

Andrea turns her head, but instead of moving she gasps. We all look in her direction seeing Lucas going down to the lake.

“Lucas” Jake yells out to his grandson.

We run the dock, Lucas leaning over the side reaching into the water.

“Lucas!”

“Lucas! Baby, stay where you are!” Andrea yells, but Lucas had a head start on us and was still too far for us to reach before a hand pulled him into the water.

We keep running to the end of the dock, the boys dive in and despite my fear of deep waters I dive in right after them.

The water is cold and murky, it’s hard to truly see in front of me but I keep going further. In the corner of my eye I see two figures that I know to be the boys breach the surface, but I force myself to keep going despite the lack of air I had left. But, my chest burns and I have to swim back up. I break the surface, greedily sucking in needed oxygen, my chest burning for the opposite reason now.

I suck one last breath in before diving down again. I light one of my hands up to use as a flashlight, the bright purple light guiding me in the murky water. And with the light, I can see Luca's small body get further and further away. Frick.

I'm forced to break the surface again. He's too far to reach. But there's also no choice. So, I push my wet hair off my face and dive back in. I reach my hand out, bringing out that light again. This time I extend the light as if it was a rope or a lasso. It stretches far in front of me. It barely brushes his wrist when all of a sudden the ghost boy lets go.

I don't leave time to contemplate it or for the spirit to change its mind. I push forward the rope of light, my lungs and eyes burning. It wraps around his wrist and I pull him towards me as I try to meet him. His eyes are closed. I don't know how long he's been unconscious.

I let go of my light as he gets close enough to hold with my hands. As quick as I can I push myself up. The sunlight is the guide to the surface. It's hard to swim with the added weight of clothes and shoes and a whole other person. But, it doesn't matter. It can't.

Finally, I break the surface with a harsh breath, the rush of oxygen to my lungs only making my chest hurt more. I pant as I hold him up, taking in sharp breaths as I hand the unconscious boy to Sam, who is closest to me. I watch as Sam brings him to the edge of the lake, his mother helping drag him out before immediately starting CPR.

I stay treading in the water breathing heavily, my chest rising up and down exceptionally fast. Pieces of my wet hair stick to my face, and my clothes stick to my skin in the worst way possible.

Dean lifts himself out of the lake landing on his knees, facing the body of water. Dean offers his hand to me, I swim to the edge of the lake where he sits, gladly taking his hand. He lifts me out of the water with ease, turning himself in the process so that I was next to him and not on top.

I look over at Lucas, who’s okay and hugging his mother before I let my head drop down my wet hair creating a curtain around me as I hold my hands to the firm ground, trying to not only catch my breath but also calm my anxiety.

Gentle, familiar, hands hold the sides of my face. Dean. He brings my head up to look at him. He moves the hair that sticks to my face away, his big hands pushing and smoothing back my hair, tucking it behind my ears. Then, his hands immediately go back to cupping my face. His touch and his eyes are so gentle that it should be unfair. “You okay, sweetheart?” He asks me, breathing a little heavy too, his voice gravelly and low.

I nod my head in response, feeling as if I couldn’t form the words to answer verbally. He shakes his head. “No. I need to hear you say it, baby," he breathes.

“I’m okay,” I answer, my voice coming out crackly.

He seems to accept that answer as he looks over me slowly, eventually making his way back to my eyes. His eyes dip down again before shooting away from me to look into the distance where sirens sound.

————————————————————————

We walk out of the motel, Sam throwing his duffel bag into the car. “Look, we're not gonna save everybody," he tells Dean. They caught me up on what happened on the drive back to the motel, Jake sacrificing himself. Which had made sense as to why Peter had suddenly let Lucas go.

“I know.” Dean responds simply.

“Sam, Dean, Y/N” Andrea calls out walking up to us with Lucas.

“Hey.” Dean greets.

“We're glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road. Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself." Andrea explains, motioning down to Lucas who looks very pleased with the platter of sandwiches he holds. He looked up to his mom, “Can I give it to them now?”

“Of course,” Andrea told him, smiling wildly, giving him a kiss on the head.

“Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car.” Dean takes the plate from him.

“Lucas, this is so sweet of you, thank you,” I tell him sincerely while Dean places the plate on the passenger seat of the car.

“All right, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase, so I want you to repeat it,” Dean instructs the kid as he sits in the passenger seat facing outward, with the door open.

“Zeppelin rules!” Lucas yells out.

“That's right. Up high.” Dean holds his hand up for a high-five. Lucas obliges, grinning. I laugh almost uncontrollably, the moment just a little too sweet.

“You take care of your mom, okay?” He tells him.

“Alright,” Lucas answers, determination on his face.

Andrea and Sam come up to the car. She leans over the open door giving Dean a quick kiss on the lips before pulling away with a “Thank you”

My eyebrows raise and I take a half-step back, not really expecting her to do that.

Dean stiffens and you can see the cogs turning in his head, he scratches his head and turns his head towards me, looking at me. I don’t say anything. I mean what would I say? I’m not even sure why he’s looking at me. He goes around the car passing me, eyes still on me as he calls out to Sam. “Sam, move your ass. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road.”

We all get in the car, smiling and waving goodbye to Andrea and Lucas as we drive away.

[kelklown]

Guys, i wanted to share this Wattpad fanfic i read a long time ago, the original is in Spanish so i transtalted it 😭‼️ i’ll put the credits later, i don’t remember the name of the person who wrote this. Btw-..sorry if the translation is wrong or weird. (I used translator bc I’m at school so yeah, I’ll edit the errors later)

Fanfic by: Rinkataku on Wattpad

____________________________________________

Strawberry - Genderbend Beavhead

On a particularly imperfect Highland night, where cicadas were singing in search of a mate and the heat of the day was calmed by the winds of their arid region, another pair of young people sat on the sidewalk of a large fenced yard. The house, tacky like few others, had been given by one of the least acclaimed boys in school, Stewart Stevenson, who took care of her after her parents' business trip. Taking advantage of the absence and given his desperation to break the stereotype of the nerdy chubby person, he agreed to have a totally free party at his house. Free from control, his nerdy friends and security, of course.

However, he invited the only pair of students who noticed his presence so far and broke the mold of the status quo, Beavery and Assgirl. Both seemed to be indifferent to the rest of the school, so the boy considered it a gesture of kindness that would later be rewarded... He still hoped that Beav would notice. Unfortunately, she seemed to be too busy watching other kids, eating, or just laughing at whatever idiotic things were happening. Obviously she had time for anything but him.

The boy, heartbroken, came out for air, finding the girl sitting next to her friend, ending up irritating him. Did they never separate for even a second? Clenching his fists, he turned around and tried to continue with what he did: serve others in an attempt to be recognized.

—Hey, look at it, there it goes. Tremendous idiot, huhuhu

-one of the girls muttered in a meek voice, drawing the attention of the other girl.

-Shit! Shall we do two out of three?

They had bet a milkshake from the self-service to find Stewart first, because being short and plump it was very funny to see him running around the house to lick the soles of all his companions. Assgirl looked back at her friend, laughing.

-Uhh, no.

Beavery's grimace of discontent appeared, being replaced after a while by another broad smile. She relaxed her posture and made clear her intention to stay sitting right there, raising her little blue eyes to the sky half orange due to light pollution.

She frowned, thinking, and decided to change the subject drastically: "Tonight sucks, huh." More than normal.

—Wow! Wait, you're right. —The brunette, instead of looking at the sky, stared at the curvature of Beav's nose, tucking a lock of hair behind her own ear.

We came here, they don't offer us anything, and we don't get to drink alcohol or do anything fun.

—Hehe, I don't even remember why we got ready and dressed well if we were just coming to stupid Stewart's house! -With notable annoyance, she passed a hand over her lips, removing the lipstick that she had so primitively applied, leaving part of her palm fuchsia.

—I shouldn't have listened to you. -She pretended not to have been the one with the idea, but waited for the opposite to get up. Let's get out of this pigsty...Beavery?

There was no case. The girl with blonde curls was immersed in pleasant amazement, stopping to smell the lipstick she had in her hand. Her gaze shone with that flash of childhood that she occasionally let out, giving her friend a reason to stay and wait for her.

-Assgirl, Assgirl! The lipstick smells like strawberry.

I didn't just slap her because...

—Let's see, huhu.

...She also hadn't realized they bought one of those flavored lipsticks.

She held out his palm with the fuchsia mark and watched as the woman hid a smile when she appreciated that sweet aroma. Without adding anything for the moment, both girls stood up from the sidewalk and dodged anyone on their way to the exit. The dawn broke through with a cooler breeze, typical of a night of disappointments like that. However, Beavery's discovery had her shamelessly sniffing her own hand, as if it were glued to her face, hiding the mess she had made on her cheeks when she smudged her lipstick.

From time to time, they both laughed at some joke on their way home.

—Can you imagine a dead body tasted one? -

The blonde asked after a brief silence.

—Huhu, no, one that tastes like shit would be better.

And that alone was enough to keep them entertained without other distractions until they reached the door. Upon entering, the first thing they did was take off their shoes and settle into the couch; With the sweltering summer it was impossible for them to sleep in Assgirl's room, since the garbage under the bed filled the atmosphere with stench. At that time there was little or nothing on the television programming, so they decided to leave a channel where reruns of Jackass were playing in the background to sleep.

The blonde raised her legs and curled up on the couch, facing her partner. She watched her carefully, like someone silently asking for something. Assgirl was about to take off her bra under her shirt, as she usually did, but the opposite inquisitive look left her inhibited for a moment. She pretended to be distracted and crossed her legs, almost breaking out in a cold sweat. When she decided to speak, confronting her friend became impossible; She had come closer until she occupied a large part of the couch.

-What are you--!

—Can I taste your lips?

The brunette sank into the corner, red as a tomato, trembling. And the reaction generated a blush in the opponent that mixed with the pink that remained on her cheeks. Beavery's spontaneity used to be a deadly weapon that she didn't even control. They gave a second of truce while Assgirl took a breath.

-What..?

—Your lips. I want to know if they taste like strawberries. -She dropped to her knees so as not to invade the opponent's personal space so much, relaxing his expression. Don't you?

In fact, it was something that she asked herself in her subconscious as well, and when the mystery came to the surface it ended up turning her face red. She wanted to say no, but if they started to discuss it they couldn't sleep on the same couch without punching and kicking each other first.

—Did you manage to drink beer and not tell me?

Huhu...

The laughter was contagious, but she shook her head, between his typical knowing glances that at that moment seemed to take on other dimensions. In one of the few contacts.

Directly, both pairs of eyes seemed to articulate the same doubt: Would kissing automatically make them lesbians?

—Just a peak. —She lowered the bet considerably, as long as he accepted. Or are you, hehe, a coward?

That last question did seem necessary, because when Beavery asked it for the first time in so long, it lit that fuse of provocation that existed in both hollow leaders. Still red with anger and shame, Assgirl grabbed her friend's cheeks to pull her to her face, as close as her pride would allow, hoping that her opponent would do the same and disappear from her sight. She, just as nervous or perhaps more, worked to extinguish the little distance that remained between both lips, until she captured the other's lips.

However, it was not enough to feel any flavor, just the warmth of the chaste contact and their intertwined breaths, a strong reminder of the closeness that a kiss implied. Before any of them moved away due to the pressure, Beav moved her lips, barely moisturizing them with his tongue and leaving small kisses on the opposite one. Her heart skipped a beat with happiness to see that it was working, she felt the strawberry! It was fucking paradise.

Before she warmed to the sensation, she noticed that she felt somewhat tight. The other's hands closed on her cheeks and hurt enough to bother her. She half-opened his eyes and met the small gaze of her companion, who seemed even more disturbed than her own. She moved away slightly, and when she tried to speak he felt how her hands seemed to want to close more between her cheeks, causing her lips to press together in a sympathetic way. Only when Assgirl asked to be released did she realize that this expression was not a mockery of her partner, but a product of her own nerves. When she released her, her palms were sticky due to the blonde's previous sweat and stains.

None of them could look at each other for a long time, during which they could only hear an eternal infomercial about a kind of lawnmower with insecticide included. When Beavery began to return to her place, she was interrupted by the brunette, who called her with an insult in between.

Filled with courage, she threw himself into her arms and kissed her back, trying to savor also the trace of lipstick that had been left on her friend’s lips. In reciprocation, Beav noted that in addition to feeling like she was in a higher fucking paradise than before, kissing required more than just random movements. Without realizing it, both were trying to keep up, but the nerves and temperature made that contact sticky and irregular. What lasted centuries for both of them was really just a couple of minutes and when they separated they looked at each other between amusement and annoyance.

—Okay, that felt cool. —The girl with braces gave her consent between crude laughs, and then maintained some seriousness. But we are not lesbians.

[sprunkimortality]

uhh uhh what do the sprunkies think of wenda?

Oren: "Wenda? She's fine I guess. She looks at me weird sometimes, but like…no biggie, bruh. She's chill otherwise." Raddy: "Oh, yeah, I know her. CEO's daughter from the Big City. She's still kinda a snob, huh? I wonder why she moved to Smalltowne. Eh….I can't be bothered to ask her. Last time we talked was when she tried to charm me into giving her a freelance job." Clukr: "Actually, I do not appreciate her calling me a nerd in a teasing manner. Additionally, she needs to learn self control. Curiosity kills the cat, they say, but in her case she's the cat that killed my PROGRESS IN THAT PROJECT THAT TOOK ME WEEKS TO POLISH! Huff. Excuse me for the unprecedented increase in my vocal volume." Fun Bot: "I love her groove! Especially when she starts doing the cool thing where she spins on the floor!" Vineria: "Hmmm…I don't talk to her much, our wavelengths are far off. But I sense that she's trying to be better, in whatever manner that might be…she seems nice."

Gray: "She's come a long way." Brud: "Me like Wenduh. Wenduh say me stinky. Me no stink. Wenduh bit mean. But still like Wenduh!" Garnold: "She's pretty alright. She teases me though. Oh, and she broke a bunch of our equipment once, and Clukr gets all agitated thinkin' about it, so…she can't really visit the lab anymore until we're both extra sure that she won't wreck anything." OWAKCX: "U- Uhhrrgh…s- s- she reminds me of someone…b- b-…bad…" Sky: "Wenda is so cool! She gave me this piercing on my ear in secret! She can't babysit me anymore though."

Mr. Sun: "Oh, yes, the Sassy one! She can be charming at times, but I wouldn't fall for her little tricks and bribes so easily! It can be tempting, though. Look at her, adorable!" Durple: "Wenda, my dearest bestie! She has been my right-hand lady since the very beginning, before we even moved into this town! I will not spare the personal details, but we have helped each other through troubles and tribulations! If there's one person in the world I'd want to live with for eternity…it would be her." Mr. Tree: "Her eyes…they seem exhausted, though she hides it under her eyeshadow. I know that look…" Simon: "Wenda is awesome! Sure she gets into a couple messes, but she's still the best at being her preppy, sassy self! And she's a great friend, especially to Durple! Kinda makes me wanna get closer to her and be her friend too, but I don't know much on how to gossip. That's their thing, ain't it? Oh, and she makes me look nice before events sometimes! I'd always look like a whole new Sprunki with her makeover, haha!" Tunner: "I'm still waitin' for her ta' tend to 'er 100 hours of unserved community service. I don't appreciate her giving my sonny an ear piercin' either. But…I don't really hate 'er. She just needs ta' learn that she can't get 'er way all the time."

Mr. Fun Computer: "She makes a great co-host to my gameshows! Her spunk is the key that makes it all feel extra special!" Pinki: "Wenda has such refined taste! She's given me recipes for foods I've never heard of before! Not just baked goodies, but anything that can be cooked, really! She says it's what people like to eat in the Big City. Sometimes they have funny names, but they come out quite good! I'll stick to my sweets, though. Heehee~! It's my thing!" Jevin: "Pointed ears, sharp as her words, Wenda may have lots to learn. Her eyes avoid my perceptive gaze, but I see the hidden kindness on her face. One more thing; she finds me chilling. Her reactions always send me giggling."

Black: "Can't really stand her sometimes. She thinks a couple coy looks in the eyes would get her free passes to do anything. Sorry, lass. The world doesn't work like that. Can I also just say how much I hate how picky she is? If it were something revolting I would understand, but she once hesitated to bite a hotdog. A HOTDOG. Imagine that?!" Saves: "She's a sweet young lady, I think. That's how I feel looking at her…I can't quite remember what our interactions were about, but…I do feel that she's good at heart." Ciqu: "Abysmal. 100 hours of community service can't do justice. She needs to be scrutinized and kept in a controlled environment." Sprinkles: “She’s pretty cool! She’s helped me pick cute outfits for things before and I like sharing my secrets with her. She’s got a lot of confidence! I hope to have a lot of that too when I grow up!” Calvin: “She’s awesome. She’s pretty laid back and basically lets us do whatever we want when she would take care of us. Like she let Sky get his ears pierced even though his dad got super irritated about it! I know she would do the same for me…but I don’t wanna get her in trouble again.”