#and his brother who he says over and over needs to be put in an asylum. but who listens to jason.

[saltymarshmall0w]

beatdown buddies

(You always read fics where the pit is instantly calmed by Danny’s presence, but what if it didn’t?)

Now, you have to understand, that Jason was long past attacking strangers in a blind fury. The Bats? Sure, all the time--- but he was working on that.

This particular scrawny, possibly-homeless stranger hadn’t done anything more than simply exist in Jason’s proximity. If it was any other Crime Alley resident, Jason would be much more likely feel a surge of protectiveness.

This guy though– he was different.

Locking toxic-green eyes to toxic-green eyes made the pit in his skin violently react. Before he knew it, he was hitting the guy with everything he had, and the guy was hitting back.

The groceries Jason had left his apartment to get spilled all over the ground as the two rolled.

Pulled hair, split knuckles, and bruised bodies, the guy’s fist hit Jason’s jaw for the umpteenth time, cracking his head back and making him look at the gloomy sky.

They only used their fists. Jason could feel the familiar ghost of weapons hidden under the other guy’s hoodie, but neither pulled their hidden weapons.

Despite it all, Jason and the guy shared blood-tinged smiles. Blood boiled under his skin in an exciting trill. He was angry, and it was fantastic.

He’s pretty sure he just made a new best friend.

Someone hit Jason’s back with what could distinctly be identified as a broom. He vaguely heard the sound of yelling around him, but Jason’s only focus was getting his next hit in.

Eventually, they were stopped by a familiar shade of blue and black. Strong arms pulled him off the stranger and pinned his arms down, locking their arms over his chest to prevent Jason from getting free.

“You need to calm down!” Dickwing’s voice lectured in his ear. “You’re going to kill him!”

Surprisingly, Jason settled in Dick’s hold, fight and anger drained out of him in the space of a breath. The fire under his skin didn’t keep flaming and flaming and building it just– stopped.

“Oh, Please.” The stranger was grinning widely, despite the model of developing bruises and cuts across his face. A burly man who Jason vaguely recognized worked at the store they were standing right in front of was both holding up and holding back the guy. “We were just saying ‘Hi’.”

The guy made eye contact with Jason. Blue, no hints of green anywhere. The guy winked. “Danny.”

Frankly, Jason couldn’t quite explain his actions. He felt stupidly chastized by Nightwing’s patented older brother stare of disappointment. Apparently, the guy couldn’t explain his actions either, as he disappeared the instant no one’s eyes were on him.

-

Jason arrived an hour early to Wayne Sunday family dinner. He missed cooking alongside Alfred, and offered his help.

He let Dick wrap an arm around his shoulder for a few seconds as a welcome. He didn’t seethe at Bruce simply being there. He chose to sit between Tim and the Demon brat when it looked like new fratricide plans were being drawn up by the younger.

The pit didn’t scream under his skin to hurt. Little things didn’t set him off, making him have to leave early. He wasn’t tempted to throttle anyone for existing around him.

The pit was just… quiet. Peaceful even. Well, as peaceful as it could get in the Wayne household.

It was a massive improvement compared to six months ago— hell, compared to last month.

He shrugged off inquiries about his black eye, citing it would heal quickly anyway.

-

Jason should have known he wasn’t safe.

Sure, he was on a roof one could only grapple to, across the city from crime alley, and dressed up as Red Hood.

However, Danny always reappeared periodically like a well-timed extremely therapeutic punching bag.

One moment, Jason was looking down over the streets of Gotham the next, he was being flying-kicked by a lithe frame. Something instantly recognized Danny so, rather the putting a bullet in him, Jason picked himself back up into a crouch and lunged at Danny.

“Hood? Hood what’s going on?” Someone called in his ear— Oh, right he had connected comms with his family that night.

Danny stopped suddenly, straddling Jason’s stomach, one hand fisting his collar, the other posed to strike. He blinked. glowing green eyes turned blue. “You’re not like, busy doing vigilante stuff, are you?” He asked.

Every bruise and cut from their last fight was gone, his baby face appeared as though it had never been punched in his life, making him look all the more punchable.

“Nope.” Jason answered, driving an elbow into the kid’s stomach and in the same motion ripped the comm out of his ear to toss it to the side.

Minutes later Danny was pulled off him, and the fire under his skin died down.

He blinked back into his surroundings to find himself on a rooftop with half of Gotham’s vigilantes standing in a circle around him, an unease that he could only read because he was so familiar with them written in all of their body languages. Batman held Danny slightly behind himself, keeping a firm grasp on the guy so he couldn’t escape.

“You claimed the rage was getting better.” Bruce stated in the way that meant he was supposed to answer his unasked questions..

Jason waited for rage and indignance to rise up in him, but rather he just considered that Bruce saw glowing green eyes and a brutal beat down and made a logical leap.

“It has!” Jason argued anyway. He sniffed and ran a hand under his slightly bleeding nose. It didn’t sting enough to be broken. “I haven’t lost my cool in months.”

“That’s what he has me for!” Danny chimed happily. His nose was broken, but Danny didn’t seem to mind the twin streaks of blood running down his face. “We’re friends with Benefits. It’s always healthy to have a little dead-guy on dead-guy action. You guys should really fight with him more often, his ectoplasm is rank.”

[dubina-dawkins]

DEAN WINCHESTER | NSFW HEADCANONS

pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

warnings/notes: smut! minors dni, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected (done by professionals don't try this at home), p in v, dean is switch, marking kink, praise kink, some dirty talk as well, gentle sex but not vanilla, like LOVEmaking even, just a lot of smutty stuff from my head, english is not my first language sorry if there's some mistakes

REPOSTS WILL BE APPRECIATED

> let's just say. you're different

> it's strange, but somehow dean just couldn't bear a thought of fucking you before all of your relationship thing started

> that "storgy" thing where you were friends for half your life before you started dating

> and even after you did became his girlfriend dean just... was scared to think about something spicy with you?

> until one day he was too tired to care, when your kisses became hotter and he couldn't bring himself to hold back as usual

> like, really too tired. everything that going on is kinda exhausting him. but you're always there to help!

> your first time together? even though dean couldn't hold back anymore, it doesn't mean he was fast and rough

> no, he's one of the gentle kind

> kisses all over your body and very long foreplay

> but at one point you just get tired of these idle kisses and just

> "quit the talking, please"

> man, he's completely screwed at that point

> marking works both ways, actually

> no, really, dean adores the sight of you in his marks. hickeys, lovebites

> it intoxicates him better than any whiskey

> he pays extra attention to your neck. and to your breasts, too

> but sometimes when it sam's turn on doing the laundry, he sees there some of dean's flannels

> and their collars are stained with dark traces of lipstick...

> when dean feels your waxy lips on his skin, he knows it would leave a mark. knows he'll need to shower those off

> but from the way you look at him, when your lipstick is smeared over his lips, cheeks, neck and all the way down

> he'd rather never take a shower to keep these

> your lovebites and nibbles drive him crazy

> to the point he whimpers your name. and you're not even starting!

> scratches too. he gets teased about these. a lot. by nearly anyone who sees them

> he's not intense kind, - not all the time at least

> but it feels too good for you not to leave a mark of your nails on his back

> "did you take the tiger in fight?"

> "sammy, shut it."

> he'd like to do it nearly everywhere, it's just you who keeps him on track

> he'd slip his hands under your jacket the very second you leave witness' house, being in fbi undercover

> "good suit, agent carol kay... seriously, you couldn't come up with a better name?"

> "agent joey kramer says"

> for you the height of extreme is the back seat of the Baby, especially when she's standing at Bobby's

> dean would never admit it, but he's a sucker for you in charge

> you don't need much to get him turned on

> one "good boy" is enough

> and he's so worked out about it

> you tease him, kiss him, touch him, and he already needs to bite on his lip

> especially when you get to his chest. he didn't joke about his nipples being hypersensitive

> there's no words that can describe thst heavenly sound he makes when you tease his sensitive tip, when your fingers work on the entire length

> he whines your name, stroking your hair. his sounds are purely animalistic when you finally take him all in your mouth

> dean's not huge, but he's bigger than average. and it definitely is enough to make you moan his name, sometimes in a really pornographic way

> "please, baby... let me c-"

> "not yet, pretty boy" you whisper, letting his hardened cock put of your mouth with a wet pop

> it's like a tradition. when you two have an extra-time, you prepare each other. you sucking him off, him eating you out. swings of gentle dominance and comfort submission.

> dean, unlike his brother, is not a puppy-look person... but when he's between your thighs, kissing and nibbling on the skin, and his gaze rises to your face, begging to go further..

> then he really looks like an obedient dog.

> extra attention to your clit. sucking, licking, sucking again. dean adores the sounds you make at these

> but most of the time it's just a stress relief after tough hunts

> or when sam goes out to get some food

> quick and needy

> and you fucking adore seeing your always tough man being needy for at least your hand in his hair

> at very least.

a/n: love him. my man. my boy. my everything. god im obsessed, hyperfixated and ovulated. the unlohy trinity.

[simp-ly-writes]

Hope in a Bottle

─────── · ·

Pairing: AU!Silco x Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You had died many years ago, or at least that was true in Silco's world. He had learned to live without you but when graced with the opportunity to see you once again- he can't help but indulge.

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, ANGST (but no seriously there are no happily ever afters), some fluff/comforting moments, suggestive themes.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,668

─ · · A/N: I cried like at least four times when writing this, this show HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD.

─────── · ·

Silco often thought about you in passing moments. These moments he remembered sharing with you amongst your friends and in the comfort of your arms used to be coated in blue that he would drown and surround himself in; but as your presence forever lingered in his mind blue turned to pink and rose-tinted glasses glossed over every moment- every memory with a certain degree of fondness that he would catch himself smiling even when no one was in the room.

You would always manage to light up the room, tell him a joke when he needed it most, told him off and raised him up. He put so much of himself into you into your presence that when you left... it was like he had to redefine who he was but forever remained unsuccessful.

Silco learned to live without you physically but that did not mean that your jacket was still not waiting for your return on the back of his couch or your glass still half-filled by the bedside. Your chair at the bar was always kept at the back, awaiting your return as you both shared kisses in the storage room. He would always remember how the stained glasses reflected in your eyes, the colour breaking across your skin in a forever radiant presence just like you.

Vander would catch Silco in these moments when wiping down the bar top or taking a walk down by the Zaun bay, overlooking the artificial lights and hints of sunlight being cast upon the black waters. Watching as the mans hand opened and tensed before falling back down to his side.

"You doing alright there. brother?" Vander asked in a soft tone as they both crossed over to topside for the day. Silco looked up, a strand of his hair falling from his salt and pepper hair- blowing with the wind. "We are always alright in the hope to be better, and when we get better we hope for it to stay only to be alright once again; stuck in the cycle of it all I find myself on the better side today."

Vander hums along to Silco's words as they stop at the various market stalls to see their offerings a few new bottles for the bar from another region across the sea and a bag of sweets for the kids in the area. The men are suddenly greeted with another body stepping in between the two and falling inline with their pace.

"And how are we doin'?" Powder asks with a wide smile, trying to squeeze her arms together to encompass both of their sides before turning around to walk backwards and hold conversation.

Silco winces as Power almost misses lamp post after lamp post by mere millimetres. "We are fine, just about to make our way back home actually. Anywhere your headed, young lady?" Silco teases, his voice sharing sincerity in every syllable.

Powder rolls her eyes before turning back around, head tilting over her shoulder before she disappears back amongst the crowd, "Going to see this new invention Echo has been telling me about!" Vander shakes his head with a loving stare where Powder had just stood.

"She's going to change the world one day, you know?" Vander says to the wind, hoping that it catches her ears but it only does Silcos.

"I'm afraid she already has for she is your own world," Silco comments, placing a hand on his friends shoulder before powering forwards. "I hate it when your always right," Vander teases before taking two long strides to catch back up.

"Well I perfected it only from the best." Both mens minds go directly back to you, smiling and twirling in the bar to a new record you had found on the topside. Somehow you had already known all the lyrics after this being your supposed first time listening to the piece.

"They always knew, huh," Vander says, looking down to catch Silco small smile. "Yes, but not everything I wanted them to..."

─────── · ·

When back in Zaun and at The Last Drop, bar-goers had already flooded the decorated space for tomorrow night it would be the inventions fair, a bar local already chosen to set the mood for the night and a few university members stationed with scholarships in mind.

Both Vander and Silco were excited to witness the extraordinary kids they knew have the opportunity to show their talents to others and hopefully the collective dream of them changing the world would come true but fate always had to make its presence known in the doorway.

Blue sparkled out of the corner of Silco's eye as he leaned against the bar top waiting to continue his conversation with Vander. A half eaten apple sat beside his notebook that he was picking away at while conducting the accounting for the month. His back burned with his age from being hunched over for so long as he stood up to stretch.

Laughs echoed throughout the bar, feet dancing against the wooden plank floors, drinks clashing and spilling against the tables as another gets thrown out the side door. Powder had left a few moments ago with Echo, a certain mischievous look in her eye that Silco did not find unusual at the time would only shock his system now when he caught from reflection in the glass of his amber filled cup.

Your name graced his lips, remembering the feel, imaging your warmth against his skin and to feel it, to see it. He thought to be surreal, to be going senile as he looked to Vander for support and only found him smiling with a wink before turning back around to serve another customer.

Your skin was a thousand colours coming to life in his eyes, his hand drifting from the back of your fingertips, up your arm to your shoulder, neck upon which you shiver and rest your forehead upon his own. "How I've missed you," words that he only hoped to hear, have only read to himself in comfort written by his own hand- a fantasy turned reality now spoken to truth between your very own lips that Silco had to claim.

You melted into his touch, decades without the familiarity- him haunting your body with memory of his touch now appearing as goosebumps in recognition. You smile against his lips, hand running up against the smooth fabric of his vest before lacing in the silver locks of his hair.

Out of breath, you both pant, hands still gripping one another tightly as if afraid the other would disappear once more. "I thought to have lost you, to be so alone for so long. Why is it now that you appear just when I was surviving once again off of scraps?" Silco asks into your ear, not wanting to break this moment between the two of you. Even when in a crowded bar, it is only the two of you present in this moment.

"I would ask myself the same questions when I came back alive thanks to the technology developed in my universe and by what force I have yet to know, I am forever thankful for returning me, my soul, back to you to rest finally," you speak through tears mixing with Silco's silent ones dripping down his cheekbones and falling against your clothes that stain the fabric dark.

"I should thank that force as well," Silco murmurs, lost in your eyes, brushing away your tears. "I think it best we have the rest of this conversation elsewhere," Silco grabs your hand before pulling you out of the bar. The cheers and claps becoming distant as he leads you back to his apartment.

He locks the door behind you both, watching as you gently let go of his hand and walk around his space. Your hand feels the leather of your jacket still sat in the same place where you left it, against the couch in a forgotten moment of need. You continue towards the kitchen, seeing the various crayon pictures of Violet and Powder attached to the fridge who Silco explained to you before walking towards the bedroom. Your glass still waiting for you beside an unopened bottle you remember gifting Silco for his birthday.

"Why did you never open it?" You ask, fingers tracing around the neck of the bottle coated in a layer of dust you blow from your fingertips. "You said not to open it without you there to try it, I kept to my promise in hope for an impossible day like today. It was a reminder of not to drain my hope as many other's do."

All you can do is nod before holding the bottle in between your hands, a sickness suddenly washes over you as you take in Silco's form leaning against the doorframe. His arms crossed, leg tucked over the other and the scar of his yellow eye glowing warmly- lighting up the room amongst the candles.

He expects you to open the bottle, you understand that in doing so means you are to stay but that is something you cannot do. Not when Echo and the Professor are building a time-machine, not when your world is about to erupt in ruins.

You want nothing more to indulge more than you already had into this word of perfection and wrongs written right but that would be a cruelty brought upon this world. You knew you shouldn't have gone up to him, kissed him, felt his skin upon you skin only to take it away like the hopes of everyone else who had died during this war.

But you were only human, your heart already shattered and in need of repair, of warmth and kindness but you would only be selfish just as much as those you were out to strike down. "I-I can't open the bottle Silco. I-" you start to sob, hands shaking before placing the bottle back upon the nightstand.

You bring your knees back up to your chest, breaths heavy as your head spins, blood starting to drip down your nose, the reflection of blue out of the corner of your eyes as you gripping the sheets, knuckles turning white as Silco runs over, falling to his knees as he begs to see your face.

"Please, whatever is the matter, darling?" Silco asks, the sweetness of his tone doing nothing but to further indulge your nausea as you spiral. "I shouldn't have come to you, have done any of this!" You shout, trying to shove the man away but Silco only stands, wrapping his arms around your body as you do your best to kick and shove him away.

You look over his shoulder, watching as the sunsets through the window and sheer blinds. "Silco," you sob, fingers digging into the material of his vest once again in a panic rather than in reverence. "Silco, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that this was not forever, that this will only be another memory and perhaps the once that hurts the most knowing that I left rather than was forced to..."

"Then let me hurt, allow me to bleed, allow me to weep for I have endless time for that but only a finite time to be truly happy. So please, indulge me, drink it all and leave me once more with the knowledge that you are out there somewhere in another place, alive. Please, please," Silco begs turn into whispers as you press your tears into his neck before leaving a lingering kiss.

"Until the sunrise we shall be happy in the night," you speak softly in between kisses, your vision still clouded in tears.

"Until the sunrise," Silco restates before capturing your lips once more and sighing heavily. The moons bask ignites you both, lighting the liquid in your bodies burn as you take pleasure in one another.

You feel him, your hearts and souls connecting, rekindling in what is only to be heartbreak that makes you both press harder into one another. Leave marks across each others skin and kiss them delicately afterwards. It is in you both taking a bath afterwards until the cold waters have you both frozen still in realization as the sun rises and fills the room. Its warmth lost as you pick up your clothes and leave your jacket leaning against the couch once more.

You stare at the empty bottle at the bedside and watch as Silco picks it up and looks at you through it was a wavering smile. "Goodbye, my love and know that it was always you my soul yearns for and you who I define myself as."

"I really wish this didn't have to be the end, Silco...." you try your best not to sob, chocking on your words yet standing firm in your positions knowing that comforting one another would only make the hurt worse than it already was burning. "...in another life, I can see how easily we could have had it all- could have been happy."

"I wouldn't want any other memories than the ones we share," you nod in agreement, your body shakes, skin burns in want as you reach for the cold handle that sends shivers down your spine.

"Goodbye, Silco, I love you, forevermore."

"And I you."

─────── · ·

The walk to Jinx's place is a long and cold one, a thousand pairs of eyes stare at you with their condolences. You refuse to meet any of their stares, knowing that by just one look you would be running back into his arms for comfort.

Echo and Heimerdinger are already there and waiting for you, Echo extends his hand and lifts you up onto the platform. A swirl of arcane magic mixed fits the seeds of that all-too-familiar blue have you floating with a scream as the Professor sacrifices himself with one last salute to you both. Echo holds you, the loss of today holding heavy yet his touch is not what you yearn for as you cry into his jacket, gripping the collar of it as colours swirl around your vision and you are brought back to the battlefield once more.

Bullets wiz past your had, another graces your cheek as your blood falls like tears against the broken pavement. The roar of a monster rumbles the ground as you sprint towards the closing barriers, throwing yourself over them and into a sea of dead blue enforcers.

Screams haunt your ears, echoing distantly through your memories and brought forth into reality as you step over cast aside limbs and guns. You watch as Vi ahed of you holds another as they take their final breaths, a machine gun makes you loose hearing in your left ear and next thing you knew, a burning sensation was coming from your right leg where a ghastly wound had planted itself.

Hoisting and forcing yourself to stand you carry forth with a limp and defend the entrance, holding cover and watching as the trojan horse gets rolled in through the barriers all you can feel is Silco's marks as you charge forwards with an unrelenting cry.

─────── · ·

Silco fell back into the bed and stayed in that exact same numb position until Vander came to find him, "You know, there was a part of me debating weather or not to distract you from 'em and theres a part of me now that regrets not doin' so."

"It wouldn't have mattered anyways, the hurt of not seeing them when I got the chance to would have hurt just as much if not more. But I appreciate the sentiment, brother," Silco responds, rolling the cork of the bottle in between his thumb and finger.

"Finally drank it, huh?" Vander comments, picking up the bottle from the stand as gently as possible between his large hands. All Silco can do is smile, a singular tear dripping down his cheek that gets cast away, "yeah, something like that."

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: so... what did y'all think?

[nowimjustastranger]

Not a fic request; I just recently discovered and binge-read your Somebody to Call My Own Au and I was struck with an idea I'd love to share.

I love your post about stcmo!Ford meeting the Canon Grunkles, but I got to thinking, "Why would he need to go to dimension 46'\?" And the most obvious answer is, Grunkle Stan almost died.

So picture it, the sea Grunks have been living their shared dream for close to a year and have been steadily making their way back to Gravity Falls for their niblings second summer there, when 46'\ Ford detects an anomaly that's not too far off course. He convinces Stanley to go investigate it as one last hurrah before they turn in for the summer.

However, in an attempt to document it, they ended up angering the creature and now have to fight it or risk their boat capsizing. Stanley ultimately ends up falling overboard, and while Ford is concerned, he is rational enough to know that Stan's wearing a life jacket, has fallen off the boat before (and knew how to pull himself back up by now) and always turned out fine, save for falling ill for a bit.

But while Ford's busy making sure the boat doesn't turn over, he realizes Stan is taking a lot longer than he should to climb back up.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he catches a flash of blue light and a dark figure landing on his deck. It takes him all of two seconds to realize who it is, and in that time, the guy has already dove into the water. Motherfucking Stanford Pines from dimension 419"3.

So now Ford is pissy because this edgelord version of himself, who beat him up once over having a shit take years ago, just showed up for no reason and will probably make his day even worse.

And then he comes to the chilling realization that 419"3 Ford only shows up when a Stanley is at risk of dying.

In the meantime, 419"3 Ford kills the monster and ends up having to unhinge it's jaw in order to drag Stanley out of its mouth. He's unconscious, but alive.

The boat settles and Ford 419"3 drags Stan onto the deck to perform cpr, make sure he does get hypothermia, y'know, standard procedure. Ford 46'\ is instantly glued to his brother's side and is insistent that once he is breathing clearly and conscious, Ford 419"3 has to go.

Frankly, he's knee-deep in denial that Stan was even going to die. His Stan isn't like the other Stan's that need help. He's tougher. He beat Bill Cipher for crying out loud! He doesn't need help, especially from 419"3 Ford!

He's always fine.

Of course, 419"3 Ford disproves that claim, saying that's a very naive way of thinking. That 46'\ Ford had believed Stan was "fine" for ten years, when he very clearly wasn't. In fact, there was a 100% chance that Stan would die in that fish's mouth because Ford had prioritized the boat over rescuing Stan.

419"3 Ford says he's going to stick around to ensure that Stan is healthy and he might even stay until they reach land because he doesn't trust 46'\ Ford to not get distracted by some other big fish.

46'\ Ford is appalled by the idea that he'd put his brother’s health even further at stake and is pretty insistent that they get Stan to a hospital asap, which they both can agree on for once. (I like to imagine Stan's in the background very much not wanting to go to a hospital because he's still legally dead and would honestly like to keep it that way, but he's being ignored in favor of his health.)

Still Ford 46'\ wants 419"3 gone. He knows his methods, he knows his MO, and he does not trust him with his brother. He does not need to be tested. He's learned the lesson already. The thought of losing Stan again kills him inside.

And yet the thought lingers. Stan would've died, barely a month before their first shared birthday in forty years. He'd have to return to Gravity Falls alone. He'd have to break the news to Dipper and Mabel.

Their hero was gone and it would've been his fault.

But he wasn't. And Ford wouldn't admit it out loud, it was all thanks to Ford from 419"3. That asshole saved his brother.

But we all know how much Ford struggles with saying "Thank you".

Anyways, that was just something my angsty ass came up with because your Au is so compelling and inspiring. I'd actually write a fic of it, if I wasn't already committed to a long fic rn. Hope your days going well☺️💗💗💗

Omg... why do y'all keep giving me the brainworms??? You know I'm gonna have to write something for this now, right?

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

Soooooooooo I'm gonna rant just a bit.

I love Dick Grayson he is the most badass of birds, the OG he is fucking Nightwing.

Now I love happy family ok I do but we need perspective here people if you are gonna have Dick pick sides or put other people in front I need you to read a comic cause this is what people seem to think about Dick and it's driving me batshit. (Pun Intended)

That Dick would choose Jason, Stephanie, and Cass, over Tim and Damian.

Loud very Loud Deafning Buzzer noise.

That is incorrect.

Do not pass Go! Do not collect two hundred!

If Dick decided it was Fuck the Bats O'Clock he is not taking Stephanie and poor little Jason and leaving Tim or Damain out to dry. He would never choose Cass over Tim. Just like Tim would never take Cass over Dick.

If you want to have Dick leave the bats or some other shit he decides to take a vacation he would not refuse to tell Damian and instead tell Stephanie Brown. What no what where did this come from.

He would not ignore Tim's phone call but always answer Jason's.

He would answer Tim or Damain no matter how annoying those two are.

He would not tell Tim to be nice to Jason cause he's a sad wet cat.

He would not rather hang out with Stephanie Brown over Damian.

He would not get in TimSteph's drama and than berate Tim.

It's like we forgot the plot of the movie.

You want to have Dick be this perfect big brother figure that ok I love that but don't be having him pick other people over his people.

Tim is Dick Grayson's little Brother Tim loves Dick he is Nightwing's number one fan.

Number 2 is Damain Wayne.

Damian is Dick's Brother sometimes even practically his kid.

Just like Bruce is not picking Jason over Dick.

Dick is the winner for everything everyone would not kick him off the island but he would Kick everyone off the island for Tim and Damian.

So in conclusion Dick loves Tim and Damian he also loves Jason but if Jason is gonna attempt to kill Damian or Tim. Well he killed a man who used to call himself the Red Hood once.

He also likes Stephanie Brown but she's not his bestie they aren't leaving Damian and Tim so they can go hang out or whatever.

If you want to write that go for it but don't you dare say that's cannon. Dick Grayson has put up with way to much bullshit caused by those two for this slander.

I love Jason he's one of my favs I also love Stephanie I am absolutely in love with Cass they are all awesome but they aren't the Dick Grayson Fan club founders.

[zombiesthetic]

THOMAS HEWITT WITH A PLUS SIZE S/O . . .

pairing . . . thomas hewitt x plus size!fem reader

warnings . . . hoyt ( he needs his own warning ) , no insecurities or self doubt but mentions of having "bad days" because let's be real, we all have those days.

comments , likes , and reposts are appreciated !

★ let us be real for a moment. thomas would 100% love a woman who has some meat on her bones. someone he doesn't have to treat like fine china.

★ you have curves? he's running his hands over them.

★ you have hip dips? perfect place for him to put his hands.

★ you have nice, soft, plush thighs? it's a perfect place for him to rest his head after a long day of hunting and killing.

★ you have a soft stomach? another amazing place for him to rest his head. it's like his own personal pillow and he loves it.

★ oh. and don't ever let this man see you in a dress. your curves, your soft stomach, your wide hips, your full breasts that threaten to spill out of the top and sides, oh dear lord. it takes everything in him not to stop what he's doing, throw you over his shoulder, and take you to the basement to do ungodly things that luda mae would definitely not approve of.

★ luda mae would definitely talk to him about you having nice "birthing hips". it would confuse the hell out of him. how did she know you had nice birthing hips just by looking at them? but once that idea was planted in his head . . . it's game over.

★ he loves it when you sit in his lap. the feeling of your weight being on him makes his head go fuzzy. ad you better believe that if you don't put your full weight on him, he's tugging you down til you're fully seated.

★ he just loves you. he loves every single thing about you.

★ he loves you even when you have your bad days. you know the days where you don't feel your best? he's right by your side and in his own way, he's telling you he loves everything about you. sure, there's a huge conversation barrier, but you know what he's trying to say.

★ if hoyt even dares to make a snide comment, thomas is locked and loaded, ready to take his brother/uncle down to the basement to butcher him.

★ after a close encounter with tommy's chainsaw, hoyt never said anything again. at least not when tommy could hear him.

★ but all it takes is for you to threaten to tell tommy and hoyt is shutting his mouth. that man really doesn't want to become a victim.

★ when it comes to cuddling, tommy likes to be little spoon. nothing you say can change my mind.

★ after a long day of killing and butchering, all he wants is to lay down on top of you with his head buried in your chest while you run your hand though his dark curls.

★ he's so used to be forced to "be a man" by hoyt, he likes that he doesn't have to be a big macho man when he's with you.

★ of course, he'll put on a "i run this relationship" act in front of hoyt, but when it's just you two. man, is this boy whipped. you tell him to do something, it'll be done within the hour. and of course, it's the other way around too.

★ in the beginning you had to sit him down and tell him that relationships don't have an "owner" and a "pet" like hoyt had always told him.

★ because of hoyt's constant talk of how relationships are "supposed to be", tommy didn't really want to be in a relationship. he didn't like the idea of having to "own" someone.

★ but after you had a nice sit down conversation with him, he liked the idea of being in a 50/50 relationship. you respect and love him and he respects and loves you.

★ in reality, you had to teach tommy a lot of things. but the good thing is . . . tommy is a very fast learner. in more ways than one. *wink* *wink*

★ tommy is really good with his hands. no, not in that way. get your head out of the gutter.

★ if you liked a piece of jewelry one of the victims were wearing but it didn't fit you, tommy would craft it to fit you. you mentioned a ring you liked, but it was a few sizes too small? this man is cutting the band and making it adjustable.

★ you like a necklace but it doesn't quite fit your neck how you want it too? he's stealing a chain from another victim and adding it to the necklace so it'll fit you.

★ you liked a piece of clothing but it's too small? this man is cleaning his sewing machine and creating an entire new piece of clothing with you. ( after he has luda mae get the blood stains out because that woman is scarily good at getting blood stains out of things. )

★ his love language is acts of service and gift giving, obviously.

★ he likes doing things for you and he really loves giving you things.

★ after he's done working in the barn, during his walk back to the house, if he sees a flower that sprouted in the yard, he'll grab it and give it to you.

CREDITS . . . divider by @cafekitsune

MASTERLIST

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Long-Distance Call | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: lots of arguing, angst, everyone's saying things they don't mean, canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 5056

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

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For hours most nights recently, you watched Dean sleep. In the dim light coming in through the cheap curtains in motel rooms, you would make out the details of his face and trace your eyes along them. He was just so beautiful, and you considered yourself incredibly lucky for every day you got to spend with him; despite the fact that those days were coming to an end. 

Dean knew you hadn’t been sleeping, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him why. 

Sam was driving himself crazy talking to witch doctors, professors, and demonologists trying to wrap his head around a way to break Dean’s deal. You didn’t get involved, though; you knew it was futile to do so. 

You weren’t sure if feeling helpless and knowing the situation was helpless was better than feeling helpless and trying to gain control of the situation, but you knew Sam probably felt as horribly as you did. 

“Y’know, someday, if we ever get a house— it could happen!” you assured Dean off his skeptical look. “We should get a couch. It’d be better for our backs than sitting on Baby or these shitty mattresses.”

You sat up facing Dean who lounged on the headboard in your shared motel room. Tension had been high between the brothers recently, and you decided it was best for the three of you to bunk separately. 

“You are annoyingly optimistic, you know that?” he replied. 

“I like to think of myself as more of a realist,” you returned. “But I’m trying to be more like you lately.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked. His eyes held such an intensity when he looked at you. 

In vulnerable moments like these, you couldn’t bear to look back at him. You opted for looking down at the mattress or, really, anywhere other than his face. “I mean, your whole thing is being annoyingly biting and sarcastic and— I mean, you just have the most amazing sense of humor— even when things suck major ass. And I don’t know how you do it. But… it’s admirable.” When your eyes returned to his face, he was looking at you with such pride and admiration. 

“What?” you asked.

“I just love you,” he said. 

You grinned widely and reached for his hand. You held it for just a moment before speaking again. “When are you gonna tell Sam?”

“What?”

“That we can’t save you.”

He sighed. “(Y/N)—”

“No, Dean, he deserves to know.” You shifted to your knees from your cross-legged position. “He’s on a wild goose chase instead of enjoying the time he has with you.”

“He’s a grown man, he can make his own choices,” Dean insisted, hand retreating from yours. He crossed his arms over his chest.

You gave him a look. “And maybe he’d make different choices if he had all the information about the situation available to him.”

“Alright, professor, no need to lecture me,” he grumbled, getting out of bed.

“Dean—! Don’t get mean just because you’re pissed at yourself and this whole situation,” you said, standing to face him. “Look, I’m only saying something because I don’t want the last few weeks of your life to be spent fighting with your brother.”

“Way to put that in perspective, (Y/N), thank you,” Dean spat. 

“See, this is when your attitude pisses me off beyond belief,” you argued. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you, and you’re being a complete dick. This didn’t have to turn into a fight, and I’m not understanding why it did!”

“Because you’re my girlfriend, not my fucking therapist,” he responded. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live my life.”

“Okay, this clearly isn’t about me.” You shook your head, turning away from him to grab your shorts and shoes. 

“Then, what’s it about, (Y/N)?” 

You turned back to him. “Clearly, this is about your deal.” “Oh, my god,” Dean scoffed.

“You’re runnin’ out of time. You’re scared, and you’re lashing out. It’s crap. I only wanna help you because I love you,” you told him. “And I’m not gonna tolerate you getting mean with me just because I told you something you didn’t wanna hear.”

“Where are you going?” Dean asked, seeing you stomp toward the door. 

“Out,” you replied. “Don’t follow me.”

***

That night, after yet another argument, you convinced Dean to let you sleep in his car and have him take the bed because you knew you wouldn’t get much sleep anyway. You were hurt and angry, but you missed holding Dean. You missed memorizing his features while he slept and finally seeing him at peace. 

And the next morning, the situation was no better. Now, instead of Dean and Sam fighting, it was you, Dean, and Sam fighting. 

Sam had gone to talk to another person about how to potentially break Dean’s deal. “So, the professor doesn't know crap.”

“Shocking,” Dean commented. “Pack your panties, guys, we're hitting the road.”

“What? What's up?” Sam asked. 

“That was Bobby.” He gestured to the phone he’d just hung up. “Some banker guy blew his head off in Ohio, and he thinks there's a spirit involved.”

“So, you two were talking a case?” 

“No, we were actually talking about our feelings. And then our favorite boy bands,” Dean replied dryly. “Yeah, we were talking a case!”

“Dean, stop being an ass,” you scolded. 

“Well, get Sam to stop asking stupid questions.” Sam huffed. “So, a spirit? What?”

“Yeah, the banker was talking about some sort of electrical problems at his pad for like a week. Phone was going haywire, computer was flipping on and off,” Dean explained. “This is not ringing your bell?” He pressed when Sam looked at him skeptically. 

“Well, sure, yeah. But, Dean, we're already on a case,” the younger one replied. 

“Whose?” Dean asked. 

“Yours!”

“Right. Yeah. Well, you coulda fooled me,” the older scoffed. 

“What the hell else have we been doing lately other than trying to break your deal?” Sam protested. 

“Chasing our tails, that's what. Sam, we've talked to every professor, witch, soothsayer and two-bit carny act in the lower forty-eight. Nobody knows squat! And we can't find Bela, we can't find the Colt. So until we actually find something, I'd like to do my job.”

“We should summon Ruby,” Sam suggested. 

“I'm not gonna have this fight with you.” Dean shook his head. 

Sam continued anyway. “She said she knows how to save you.”

“About that, Dean has something he wants to tell you.” You turned to your partner expectantly with your arms folded. 

“What?” Sam asked, looking between the two of you. 

Dean was giving you a glare which you returned. 

“Dean, what?” Sam asked again. 

“She can’t save me,” Dean answered finally, still holding your glare. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sam turn back to you. “(Y/N)—?”

“She told us she can’t save him, Sam,” you admitted. 

Sam turned his anger toward you. “Whoa, so you’ve known this whole time and haven’t told me?” 

“It wasn’t mine to tell, Sam!”

“Yeah, but the both of you still kept a secret from me,” he responded. 

“You really wanna talk about who's keeping secrets from who?” Dean snapped. 

You turned to the car. 

“Where are you going?” Dean called after you. 

“Guess we’re going to Ohio.”

***

You were silent for the entirety of the ride to the deceased’s house. Dean and Sam only spoke to make a snarky remark directed at each other or at you, but you refused to respond. 

You asked the woman what happened to her husband, and she reluctantly told you that he kept talking to a woman named Linda on the phone. However, there was no one on the other line when she would pick it up to check. 

Curious about who this woman could have been, you and the brothers returned to the motel to research. 

“Linda's a babe. Or, was,” Dean commented. 

Your heart dropped. You knew he was kidding, but now was so not the time to make jokes like that. “Don’t say shit like that, please.”

“She’s dead, (Y/N),” he replied dryly. “Don’t be jealous.”

“I just think it’s in really poor taste to say that right now considering the state our relationship’s in,” you told him, trying to remain as calm as possible. 

He slammed his laptop shut. “Are you seriously picking a fight with me over this? Right now?”

Sam interrupted before you could respond. “Oh-kay! That’s enough. Who’s Linda?”

“Linda Bateman.” Dean turned his eyes away from you. “She and Ben Waters were high school sweethearts.”

“So what happened?” Sam asked. 

“Drunk driver hit them head on. Ben walked away.”

“So, what then? Dead flame calls to chat?” Sam wondered aloud.

“You would think, but Linda was cremated. So why's she still floating around?”

“You got me,” Sam shrugged. 

“What about that, uh, caller I.D?” Dean asked his brother, referring to the number he’d found on Ben’s phone. 

“Turns out, it's a phone number,” Sam replied. “It's about a century old, back from when phones had cranks.”

“So, why use that number to reach out and touch someone?” Dean returned. 

“Got me there too, but we should put a trace on it.”

“Well how the hell are we going to put a trace on something that's over one-hundred years old?”

Sam suggested that the three of you should head to Ben’s phone company’s local office posing as representatives of their headquarters. 

“You guys go ahead without me,” you said. 

“Oh, c’mon, (Y/N)—”

You cut Dean off. “No. Both of us need space before we kill each other. So, please. Go.”

“Whatever,” Dean grumbled and stormed out of the room.

Sam stayed behind with you for a moment. “I’m sorry about him,” he said.

You sniffled, wiping away tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. “It’s okay. Just a rough patch, I guess. Call me when y’all have something.”

He nodded and pulled you into a hug. Sam placed a quick kiss on the crown of your head before following his brother out of the door. 

***

Sam called to inform you that the number had called over a dozen people multiple times over the last week. So, you and the Winchesters split up to investigate. Without a car, you stayed in the motel room and called the numbers Sam had forwarded to you posing as a representative of the phone company. One of the people you’d spoken to said that he’d been hearing his deceased brother calling him to reconcile the broken relationship they’d had when his brother passed away. 

Just as you hung up the phone with him, Dean burst into the room and immediately started pacing. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

Dean didn’t answer. 

Sam sat at the table in the room. “He said our dad called him.”

“No fucking way,” you breathed out. “You really think it was him?”

“I don't know, maybe,” Dean grunted. 

“Well, what did he sound like?” Sam asked. 

“Like Oprah!” the older brother snapped. “Like Dad; he sounded like Dad, what do you think?”

“What did he say?” you questioned. 

“My name,” Dean replied. 

“That’s it?” Sam pressed. 

“Call dropped out.”

You shook your head and folded your arms, sitting cross-legged on Sam’s bed. After the recent fights with Dean, you’d decided to get a room separate from the two brothers and had been hanging out in their room all day. “Why would he even call in the first place, Dean?”

“I don't know, (Y/N)! I’m not a fucking psychic,” he snarked. “Why are ghosts calling anybody in this town? But I mean, other people are hearing from their loved ones, why can't we? It's at least a possibility, right?”

You wanted to chew him out for snapping at you like that, but you truly had no energy to put up another fight. 

“Yeah, I guess?” Sam replied in your place. 

“Okay, so what if....” Dean trailed off, only looking at his brother. “What if it really is Dad? What happens if he calls back? What do I say?”

“Hello,” you suggested. 

“Hello?” he scoffed. 

You shook your head and rolled your eyes. 

“That's what you come back with. Hello?” Dean continued. 

“Fuck off, Dean,” you sneered. 

Dean huffed, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. 

Sam shot you a puppy-dog-eyed look and turned to the door to stare after his brother. 

You sighed and buried your face in your hands. 

“(Y/N)?” 

You picked your head up. 

“What’s happening to you guys?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, tearing up. “We started fighting ‘cause I told him to tell you about the whole ‘Ruby’ thing, and I said some mean shit, and he said some mean shit, and it’s just a mess now.”

Sam gave you another puppy-dog-eyed look. 

“It’ll be fine, though. I’m sure it’ll blow over.”

If it was even possible, Sam’s face dropped even further. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you smiled lopsidedly, knowing he just didn’t know how to help. “Can we talk about something other than my boy drama?”

Sam nodded. “Sure.” 

***

For the next few hours, you scoured the internet for information on the “SHA33” number that was calling these poor people. 

Dean returned with caustic remarks to spare. “Find anything?” he asked Sam while pretty much blatantly ignoring you. 

“After three hours, I’ve found no reason why anything supernatural would be going on here,” Sam sighed, shutting his laptop. 

“Me neither, Dean, thanks for asking,” you said. 

“Well, you know, you think a Stanford education and a high school hook up rate of zero-point-zero would produce better results than that,” Dean scoffed at Sam.

“Hilarious,” you deadpanned, hoping to elicit some sort of a response from Dean. 

He shot you a glare, but other than that, he said nothing. Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet. “Motel pamphlet rack.” He dropped it on the coffee table along with a few books. “Milan, Ohio. Birthplace of Thomas Edison.”

“So what?” you asked. 

Sam grabbed a book and leafed through it. 

Dean just raised his eyebrows at you as Sam looked up from the book. 

“You're kidding,” he said. 

Dean smirked as his brother. 

***

Well, a huge waste of time was the only thing Dean’s suggestion led to. The tour you went on at a museum showed the invention Thomas Edison believed could communicate with spirits and informed you that he was a devout occultist. However, the “spirit phone” didn’t set off the EMF detector. 

Sleep refused to claim you. Your anxiety kept your mind racing through the long hours of the night. You sat at the table in your room staring at the door just waiting for Dean to knock. However, despite it being three in the morning, he hadn’t come yet. Your fights had all been stupid and petty, but both of you were too stubborn to be the first to admit fault. 

And with each passing night, you could feel the clock ticking. You knew Dean was running out of time, and you just wanted him to hold you again. As the sun rose, your heart sank knowing he hadn’t come to make things right with you. 

You stayed in your room upset until Sam called you to come over to theirs. 

“What’s up?” you asked upon entering. 

“That girl Lanie—” Sam was referring to the victim he’d spoken to— “her Mom's ghost spooked her out pretty bad last night.”

“That sucks,” said Dean, typing furiously on his laptop. 

“What… are you doing, Dean?” you asked hesitantly. 

He looked at you briefly; the expression on his face confusing. He looked back down at his computer. “I think my dad’s right. I think the demon is here. Check it out.” He handed you some papers and dug around in his bag. 

“What is this, weather reports?” you asked, leafing through the papers.

“Omens. Demonic omens,” he responded. “Electrical storms everywhere we've been for the past two weeks.”

Trepidatiously, you said, “I don't remember any lightning storms.”

“Well, I don't remember you studying meteorology, either,” he snapped.

‘So much for us being civil,’ you thought. 

“But I'm telling you, that bastard's been tailing me; wearing some poor dude's meat,” Dean finished. 

Sam took some of the pressure off you. “And it’s following you because…?” he asked. 

“I guess I'm big game, y’know? My ass is too sweet to let outta sight.” Dean threw a wink at you, and you were getting incredibly thrown off by his changing attitude. 

“Okay. Sure,” Sam snorted.

Dean snatched the papers back from you. “Don't get too excited, Sammy. Might pull something.” He stood from the bed and moved away from you and his brother.

“Dean, look, I wanna believe this man, I really do…”

Dean cut his brother off. “Then believe it! if we get this sucker, it's Miller Time.”

“Yeah, that's another thing. Dad rattles off an exorcism that can kill a demon? I mean, not just send it back to hell, but kill it?” Dean’s eyes lit up. “I've checked it out. This is heavy duty Dark Ages. Fifteenth century.”

“Dean,” you said softly. “I checked on it, too. So did Sam. So did Bobby.”

“Okay, and?” he scoffed. 

Sam jumped in. “Look, it definitely is an exorcism, okay, there's just no evidence it can kill a demon.”

“No evidence it can't,” he rebutted. 

“Dean…” you trailed off, not wanting to start a bigger fight. 

“Hey, as far as I'm aware the only one of us who has actually been to Hell is my dad. And maybe he picked up a couple of tricks down there, like which exorcisms work,” he snapped. 

“Maybe!” you replied. “I hope so; for your sake. But we gotta be sure.”

“Why aren't we sure?” he asked. 

“’Cause I don't know what's going on around here, Dean!” you cried. “I mean, some guy blows his brains out, a little girl is scared out of her wits—”

“Wow, a couple of civvies are freaked out by some ghosts. News flash, (Y/N), people are supposed to be freaked out by ghosts!” he shot back. 

You held his stare venomously. Dean eventually dropped his head in frustration. 

“Dad tell you where to find the demon?” Sam asked carefully. 

“I'm waiting on the call!” he shouted. 

The tension in the room was thick, and you had no idea what to say.

Sam sighed deeply and tried to change the subject. “I told Lanie I'd stop by.”

Dean scoffed. “Oh, good, yeah. No, you go hang out with jailbait. Just, uh, watch out for Chris Hansen. Meanwhile I'll be here getting ready to, y’know, save my life.”

Sam shook his head and turned to the door. You just stared at the floor. 

“You two are unbelievable, y’know that?” Dean shouted. “I mean, for months, we’ve been tryin’ to break this demon deal. Now, Dad’s about to give us the fuckin’ address, and you blink? The man is dead, and you’re still butting heads with the guy?!” He turned his attention to you. “And you? What happened to us? What happened to your ‘unconditional support’?”

“Dean, you still have it!” you replied. “That was never in question! What I’m questioning is where your fuckin’ head’s at. Because this is not you.”

“Oh, god.” He rolled his eyes and began to pace. 

“I’m not gonna mince my words,” you began, anger boiling to the surface. “This is fuckin’ crazy. I mean, there is no proof. At all. All you’re acting on is blind faith.”

“Yeah, well, maybe!” He shouted back. “Y’know, maybe that's all I got, okay?”

You held his stare, the anger melting out of you at his words. When you could see tears forming in his eyes, he looked at the floor. 

Sam piped up. “Please. Just please don't go anywhere until I get back. Okay, Dean? Please.” 

Dean stayed silent. 

“C’mon, (Y/N),” Sam urged you. 

You looked up at Dean. For the first time that week, he offered you a kind word. “Go. It’s okay.”

You nodded. As you turned to go, you stared over your shoulder back at Dean. 

***

At Lanie’s house, the young girl got you up to speed on what happened to her the night before. 

“Have you told your father about any of this?” Sam asked her.

“And bother him at work?” she replied. “No. He wouldn't believe me anyway, he'd just chuck me into therapy.”

“So what did your mother say?” you asked. 

“She wanted to see me. So at first I thought I was supposed to go to the cemetery,” she sniffled. 

“Did you?” Sam prompted. 

Lanie nodded meekly. “Nothing happened. But then she started asking me to do other things.”

“What sort of things?”

She almost seemed embarrassed to say. “Bad things.”

You crouched down and looked up at her, breaking her gaze from the floor. “Lanie, please. Can you tell me what happened? It’s very important.”

She teared up, young eyes swimming in fear and sadness. “Mom told me to go to Dad's medicine cabinet.”

You waited patiently for her to continue. 

“She wanted me to take his sleeping pills.” She stopped for a minute to gather her courage. “Take all of his sleeping pills.”

“She wanted you to kill yourself?” Sam couldn’t help himself from saying. 

She nodded, crying harder. “Why would my Mom want me to do that?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know.”

“She just kept saying, ‘come to me,’ like, a million times,” she hiccuped. 

Your eyes widened. “Oh, sweet girl, that's not your mother.” You stood from the ground. 

Sam told Lanie, “Listen to me. Don't answer the phone. Don't use the computer. Don't do anything unless I say to, alright?”

You started down the stairs and listened carefully; just one set of footsteps was following you. You turned back to see Lanie still at the top of the stairs. “You okay?”

Her breathing was quick. “Where's Simon?”

“Simon?” you asked. 

“My little brother,” she responded. 

The next thing you knew, you were watching Sam shove the little boy out of the way of a speeding truck from the porch of Lanie’s house. 

Immediately, you called Dean. “Dean, it’s not your dad,” you rushed out. 

“Then what is it, (Y/N)?” he asked flippantly. 

“A crocotta,” you answered. 

“What is that, a sandwich?” he scoffed. 

“They typically live in filth. Mimic loved ones. Whisper, ‘Come to me,’ then lure you into the dark and swallow your soul,” you stated. 

Sam motioned for you to head to his rental car as soon as he delivered Simon to his sister safely. You followed quickly. 

“A crocotta, right, damn, that makes sense,” he snarkily replied. 

“Dean, c’mon, babe—”

He cut you off. “Hey, don't these things live in filth?”

“Yeah,” you replied. 

“Oh, god, at the phone company there were these flies. Pretty much as soon as we got down to the basement where this guy Stewie was hangin’ out,” he rushed out. 

“Okay, uh, okay,” you nodded. “Meet us there.”

You brought Sam up to speed on the conversation you’d had with Dean, and as night fell, he sped to the phone company. 

***

Despite calling Dean several times, you and Sam had to keep moving forward with the case. You watched as the man Sam described to you as Stewie unlocked his car. Silently, you rushed him with a metal spike. You shoved him down onto the car and held a metal spike to the back of his neck.

Stewie grunted. “What the hell?!”

“I know what you are,” you spat. “And I know how to kill you.”

“Wait, wait— Please! If we're overcharging you for the call waiting or something I- I can fix that. I am your friend!” he stammered. 

Confusion overtook you, and you turned to an equally confused Sam. You suddenly noticed a man standing behind him with a bat. “Sam, look out!” you cried. 

But it was too late. He was hit over the head with a bat, and you released the man in front of you. You threw your spike at him, but he caught it just before it hit him. He stalked toward you, and the man smiled widely. The man you’d been holding down shoved you to the ground from behind, and you were knocked out, too.

***

When you next came to, your wrists and feet were bound; that was the first thing you felt. Your head pounded, and your wrists ached from how tight the bindings were. When you opened your eyes, you turned your head to see Stewie was dead and bleeding profusely from his chest. 

You shrieked in horror, and then, the man who’d knocked you out appeared in front of you. “The fuck is wrong with you?!” you snarled.

He just laughed mockingly as he stalked between you and Sam. 

You realized something. “My last call with Dean. That was you. You led us here.”

“Some calls I make, some calls I take, but you have to admit, I had you fooled for a while. All that Edison phone crap,” he chuckled. He moved over to a telephone exchange cabinet and sighed in ecstasy. 

“What are you doing?” Sam asked. 

“I’m killing your brother,” he smiled. “Or maybe I'm killing another guy. We'll just have to see how it goes.”

***

The creature removed the knife from the chest of the man beside you. You grimaced at the wet squelching sound it made as he did. 

“Y’know, mimicking Dean's one thing. But my Dad?” Sam complimented mockingly. “That's a hell of a trick.”

“Well, once I made you two as hunters, it was easy. I found Dean's number, then your number, then your father's numbers. Then, emails, voicemails, everything. You see, people think that stuff just gets erased, but it doesn't. You'd be surprised how much of yourself is just floating out there, waiting to be plucked,” the creature grinned. 

“Dean’s not an idiot,” you stated sharply. “He’s not gonna kill that guy.”

“Then the guy kills him,” he shrugged. “And I kill you two. And here I thought I was only getting one hunter.” He stalked toward you, and you struggled harder. “Now, I’ve got another. And a pretty one, at that.”

You reared back and spat in his face. Almost like a reflex, he immediately backslapped you. 

Unfazed, your head returned to a neutral position and you just glared at him. 

“I’m gonna enjoy this,” he said, tracing the knife down your cheek. “Technology. Makes life so much easier. Used to be, I'd hide in the woods for days, weeks, whispering to people, trying to draw them out into the night. But they had community, they all looked out for each other, I'd be lucky to eat one or two souls a year. Now when I'm hungry, I simply make a phone call. You're all so connected. But you've never been so alone.”

Just as the man’s jaw unhinged like a snake to reveal rows of teeth, Sam came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his neck in a chokehold. You sat patiently while Sam and the crocatta struggled for the knife. You watched both men slam each other into various surfaces until they disappeared from view. 

You couldn’t do anything to help yourself, and you anxiously waited for— hopefully— Sam’s return into the room. 

Much to your relief, Sam stumbled back in minutes later. You grinned up at him happily.

***

You were the one to drive Sam’s rental car back to the motel seeing as he was injured and sore from his fight with the monster. You went at least twenty miles-an-hour over the speed limit for the entirety of the drive. 

You burst into Sam and Dean’s room, and you began to panic when you didn’t see him there. 

Then, you checked your room, breathing out in relief when you saw Dean holding a wash cloth to his eye. “Dean!” You ran to him, kneeling down in front of him.

He looked up at you, and you immediately kissed him passionately. He returned your kiss eagerly. When you broke away from him, you took the cloth from Dean’s hands gently to help him clean the wound.

“Sweetheart,” he said. “I— I’m so sorry.”

You placed your free hand on his knee. “We’ll talk in a minute, alright? Let me clean you up first.”

He nodded. 

***

“There,” you told him having placed the final bandage on his assortment of cuts. “That guy kicked the shit out of you.” Although Dean would normally laugh at jokes like that, his countenance was completely serious. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated. 

“I know,” you said softly. “I am, too.”

“I just— I lashed out, and that wasn’t fair to you. You were right,” Dean admitted. “It scares me how well you can fuckin’ read me. And with everything going on, I just—”

“I get it,” you cut him off. “I’m sorry, too. I was being petty. I got mean, too.” You paused for a moment. “I’m sorry it wasn’t really your dad.”

Dean looked down at the ground. “Naw, I gave you a hell of a time on this one.” He huffed. “I wanted to believe so badly that there was a way outta this. I mean, I'm staring down the barrel at this thing. You know, Hell. For real, forever, and I just…” he trailed off, unable to finish. 

Your eyebrows scrunched sadly, and your eyelashes flickered. 

“I’m scared, sweetheart. I’m… I’m really scared.” As tears pooled in his eyes, he couldn’t seem to meet yours. 

You nodded, tearing up as well. “I know.”

“I guess I was willing to believe anything. You know, the last act of a desperate man,” he tried to joke through his stifled cries. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but there’s nothing wrong with having hope, Dee,” you told him gently. 

“Hope doesn't get you jack squat,” he scoffed. “I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anybody to, y’know? I mean, the only person that can get me out of this thing is me.”

“And I’m right there with you,” you told him. “Every step of the way. To Hell and back.”

Dean offered a lopsided smile. “To Hell and back.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[a-whispering-echo]

need a fic where autistic dust is on a mission with the guys, and he ends up in like, a store with soft toys and stuff, and he locks eyes onto one and gets that IMMEDIET attachment to it. (some) other autistic folks will get what im saying, but you know how you form a BOND with an item? like, you try not to, but suddenly youve named it, and you imagine them sitting alone without you in the store, and oh shit now yo NEED them. but Dust CANT have them. hes a full grown monster.

One: hes on a mission, his teammates are around, and if they SEE him with a KIDS TOY theyll make fun of him, and that SUCKS

two: its so fucking WEAK of him to want something like that. its a toy. grow up

Three: he doesnt DESERVE comfort. he doesnt DESERVE nice things. he murdered everyone. he murdered his own brother. he doesnt GET comfort.

so he just stares, and tries to force himself away. he could steal it maybe... put it in his inventory when theyre not looking- but Killers right behind him, covered in blood, talking about the mission and hes lost his chance-

so he leaves.

and maybe, later that day, and he heads to his room, wanting to break down over that STUPID fucking SOFT TOY with its fucking EYES and soft fluff- he opens his door and its just sitting there. one his bed...mattress of the floor... sitting, waiting for him. those eyes looking up at him with so much emotion and none at all, and FUCK-

who got it for him? maybe Cross or Horror noticed how he was looking at it. maybe Nightmare who was watching their mission saw it and wanted to be nice. (or maybe exceptionally cruel) . who knows. Dust doesnt LIKE not knowing. they could hold this over his head...

but for now, with his brothers voice screaming about how hes the SCUM of the EARTH for Manipulating his boss or his teammates into GETTING something for him that the fucking FILTY MURDERED doesnt DESERVE- he curls up with it in a ball and Shutdowns.

[biblical-chronicles]

Addressing the unspoken

________________________________________________________

where Noel can't stand the sight of the reader chatting with Damon Albarn and finally decides to address the unspoken connection he has had with her for the longest time now.

________________________________________________________

The studio was alive with energy, every corner humming with the chaos that came from trying to make another Oasis album. You had been brought on to help streamline the process—part assistant, part coordinator, part mediator when things got heated (and they always got heated). At first, you thought you’d be blending into the background, but it turned out working with the Gallaghers often meant being at the center of the storm.

Though somehow, you’d managed to carve out a strange kind of harmony with them. Liam was easy to handle once you knew when to give him space and when to challenge him, while the rest of the band respected you for keeping things moving without losing your cool. And Noel?

Noel was different.

He was sharp, sometimes prickly, but you’d figured out how to sidestep his walls. Over late nights in the studio, you’d become something like confidants, sharing quiet conversations about life, music, and everything in between. He’d ask your opinion on lyrics, and while he’d never outright say it, you could tell your feedback mattered to him.

You weren’t blind to the fact that there was something unspoken between you two. The way his gaze lingered a second too long when you laughed, or the rare times he’d catch your hand when passing you something—like he forgot to let go. Even the rest of the band had noticed, with Liam taking every opportunity to wind Noel up about it.

“Oh, here she is, Noel’s muse,” Liam had said one night, waggling his eyebrows as you entered the studio.

“Shut your gob, Liam,” Noel shot back, his ears visibly reddening.

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I’m just sayin’—she’s got you writing love songs, hasn’t she?”

“Do one,” Noel muttered, glaring at his brother, but you swore you saw a flicker of a smile before he turned back to his guitar.

You didn’t take Liam’s jabs seriously—after all, he teased everyone. But sometimes you caught Noel watching you in a way that made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but wonder if there was some truth in it.

When word came about the upcoming awards show, it felt like a collective sigh of relief rippled through the band and the crew. A night off, a chance to celebrate, and a rare break from all the work—it was just what everyone needed. You didn’t think much of the invite at first, figuring it was more for the band and their inner circle. But the boys wouldn’t hear of you sitting it out.

“Don’t be daft,” Liam had said, lounging on the studio couch with a cigarette dangling from his fingers. “We need someone there who doesn’t look like they’re gonna lamp someone after two pints. Bit of balance, y’know?”

“He’s not wrong,” Bonehead had chimed in with a grin. “You’re the only one who keeps this lot in line.”

You’d glanced over at Noel, expecting some kind of teasing remark, but he’d just given you a small, almost imperceptible nod. That subtle encouragement was all you needed to say yes.

By the time the night of the awards show arrived, the band seemed in good spirits, the tension of the studio replaced by a shared sense of excitement. You’d been seated at their table, tucked between Bonehead and Noel, and although the glitz and noise of the event made you a bit nervous, the familiar banter of the boys quickly put you at ease.

“You alright, love?” Noel asked as the show went on, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Yeah,” you said, smiling. “It’s just a bit stuffy in here. Think I’m gonna step out for some air.”

“I’ll come with you,” he offered immediately, his chair scraping as he started to stand.

“No, it’s alright,” you said quickly, touching his arm. “You should stay—it’s a big night for you lot. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Noel hesitated, his blue eyes scanning your face as if he wasn’t quite convinced. But eventually, he nodded, sitting back down. “Don’t go getting lost, yeah?”

You laughed. “I’ll try my best.”

As you weaved through the crowded tables, you caught sight of Blur’s table out of the corner of your eye. Damon and the rest of the band were deep in conversation, but when they noticed you passing by, a ripple of laughter erupted from their group. You glanced over just in time to see Damon being nudged by one of his bandmates, their grins unmistakable.

Frowning slightly, you shook it off and focused on finding the exit. The air outside the main room was cooler, you took a deep breath, leaning against a wall as you tried to collect yourself. Award shows weren’t really your scene, and the overwhelming energy inside had been starting to get to you.

Just as you were about to head back, a voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Bit loud in there, isn’t it?”

You turned to see Damon Albarn standing a few feet away, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. He looked almost sheepish, which was a far cry from the confident image he usually projected.

“Yeah,” you said cautiously. “Needed a breather.”

“Same,” he said, stepping closer. “Thought I’d escape before someone shoved a mic in my face.”

You nodded politely, not quite sure where this was going. Damon was friendly enough, but you weren’t exactly keen on striking up a long conversation.

“Anyway,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “I’ve seen you around with Oasis, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, I work with them,” you said simply. “Helping out with the new album.”

“Sounds like a handful,” Damon said with a wry smile. “Especially with those two.” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the main room, clearly referring to Noel and Liam.

You chuckled despite yourself. “It’s... entertaining, to say the least.”

He laughed, the sound soft and a little self-deprecating. “Well, if you ever fancy a change of scenery, you’re welcome to pop over to our camp. Might be less shouting, at least.”

It took you a second to realize he was flirting. You blinked, caught off guard, and tried to formulate a response that wouldn’t come off as rude. “That’s, uh, kind of you to say.”

Unbeknownst to you, Noel had been watching from the moment you left the table. He’d tried to focus on the show, but when he saw Damon stand and follow you out, his stomach twisted.

“Oi, where you off to?” Liam asked as Noel stood abruptly, grabbing his jacket.

“None of your business,” Noel muttered.

“Oh, it’s business, alright,” Liam said, grinning. “What’s the matter, can’t leave your missus alone for five minutes?”

“Shut it, Liam,” Noel snapped, ignoring the hoots of laughter from the table as he headed toward the exit.

Noel found you just as Damon was inching a little closer, his tone becoming more confident as he spoke.

“So, what do you say? Think you could handle working with someone a bit... softer?” Damon asked, his smile shifting into something sly.

Noel’s fists clenched at his sides. For a moment, he thought about walking away, convinced he’d already lost his chance. But then he caught the look on your face—not too interested, just polite—and he knew he couldn’t leave it like this.

“Oi, Albarn,” Noel said sharply, stepping into the space. “Think you’re in the wrong place, mate.”

Damon turned, his expression slipping into something more guarded. “Noel. Didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah, well, I’m here now,” Noel said, his voice cold. “And I reckon she’s got better things to be doing than listening to your bollocks.”

“Noel,” you started, surprised by his sudden appearance. But before you could say anything else, he turned to you, his tone softening.

“Can I talk to you? Alone?”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing at Damon, who raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll leave you to it,” he said, stepping back.

Once Damon walked away, you turned back to Noel, crossing your arms as you tried to make sense of his sudden appearance. His jaw was tense, and there was something unreadable in his expression—a mix of frustration and vulnerability that you weren’t used to seeing.

“What’s all this about, Noel?” you asked, your voice calm but edged with curiosity.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “What do you think I’m doin’? I came out ‘cause… ‘cause I saw him follow you out, and I thought, ‘That can’t be good.’”

You frowned. “Damon was just making conversation. It wasn’t a big deal.”

Noel huffed, avoiding your gaze. “Looked like more than conversation to me.”

“Oh, come off it,” you said, shaking your head. “Is it jealousy that I'm sensing here Gallagher?”

His head snapped up, and for a second, he looked like he wanted to deny it. But then he sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he muttered, “Maybe it is.”

The admission surprised you, Noel Gallagher, jealous? It didn’t quite compute—not the Noel you knew, who always seemed so self-assured, so untouchable. You stared at him, searching for the right words, but he beat you to it.

“Look,” he said, his voice low and hurried, “I know I’m actin’ like a right knobhead, alright? But I couldn’t just sit there and watch him… I dunno… try his luck with you.”

You softened at the crack in his voice. “Noel—”

“And before you say it,” he interrupted, holding up a hand, “I know I’ve got no right to get a cob on as I never said owt, so if you’re not interested, that’s fine. Just say the word, and I’ll drop it.”

You blinked, stunned by his sudden vulnerability. Noel had always been guarded, careful not to let anyone see too far beneath the surface. But here he was, laying it all out, and for once, he looked almost… nervous.

“Not interested?” you repeated, your lips twitching into a small smile. “Are you really that daft?”

He froze, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” you said, stepping closer, “that I’ve been waiting for you to say something for months, Noel. And I was starting to think I’d imagined the whole thing.”

His brows furrowed as he processed your words, but then his expression softened, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You’re serious?”

“Course I am,” you said, your voice dropping to a near whisper. “Why d’you think I was so polite to Damon? Didn’t want to cause a scene when all I could think about was you.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you was charged, and you could feel your pulse racing as Noel’s gaze flickered to your lips.

“Well, then,” he murmured, stepping closer, “guess I’d better stop muckin’ about.”

And with that, he kissed you.

It was everything you’d imagined and more—soft at first, but it quickly deepened as he slid a hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His lips were warm and insistent, and you melted into him, feeling as if the rest of the world had faded away.

When you finally broke apart, you were both slightly breathless, he rested his forehead against yours with a quiet chuckle.

“Can’t believe I waited this long,” he said, his voice rough but tinged with amusement.

“Neither can I,” you teased, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “But you made up for it.”

“Good,” he said, his lips quirking into that familiar smirk. “’Cause I’m not lettin’ you off the hook now.”

You grinned, your heart soaring as he laced his fingers with yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

When the two of you returned to the Oasis table, still holding hands, the reaction was immediate. Liam was the first to notice, his eyes widening before he burst out laughing.

“Oh, bloody hell,” he said, nudging Bonehead. “Would you look at that? Noel’s gone and pulled. About time, too.”

“Shut it, Liam,” Noel muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.

“You’re smilin’, mate,” Liam teased. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen that before. Must be love.”

The rest of the table joined in, their laughter filling the air as Noel tried to maintain his composure, but then Liam leaned closer, a wicked grin on his face.

“You might wanna sort that, though,” he said, gesturing to Noel’s face.

“What are you on about?” Noel asked, frowning.

“Lipstick,” Liam said simply, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. “Big, red, obvious.”

Noel groaned, scrubbing at his mouth with the back of his hand as the rest of the table erupted into laughter. You couldn’t help but join in, your cheeks flushing as Noel shot you a playful glare.

“Next time,” he muttered under his breath, “I’m wearin’ a bloody disguise.”

You leaned closer, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I think it suits you.”

His expression softened, and he gave you a look that made your heart flutter all over again.

As the awards show finally got underway, you settled back into your seat, your hand still intertwined with Noel’s under the table. The teasing had died down, and the band’s attention shifted to the stage as the first category was announced.

But every so often, Noel would glance your way, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, and you’d catch the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. For the first time that night, the stuffiness of the room didn’t bother you at all.

__________________________________________________________

another day another story

This was another request, so I hope it was at least close to what you imagined love xx I sort of twisted it and made the reader part of the crew since it felt weird to write her as a member of the band itself, so hopefully that's okay.

as always let me know how you lot liked it x

** also working on summat with Liam as me focus has been Noel for now (can you blame me), so let me know if you like how I wrote him here.

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

if it's ok can you do a Cross sans x fem reader oneshot with fluff and spice. where the two are dating and the reader is kind, chill, tomboyish, plays guitar and has the soul of kindness. the plot is their friend Epic brings over candy/chocolate to share and the reader give Cross one through a kiss (cross may be a flirt when its just the two but can easily get flustered lol)

I've been aching to write some smut, gracias compañero.

NSFW under the cut!

Featuring: Cross.

Content warning: Fem reader, praising, first time (at least w Cross), soft sex, bite marks, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, cumming inside.

Masterlist

The sound of rain came from the outside of your house, you were playing your guitar while sitting on the couch next to your dear boyfriend, Cross, who was nuzzling kisses on your shoulder.

A knock on the door was heard, making the skeleton on your side get up to answer whoever was on the other side, in the meanwhile you decided to put away your guitar, storing it on your bedroom and going back to the living room.

"Epic?"

"Yo (_____)!! I was wondering where you were!"

Epic wraps his arms around you, his watery clothes getting yours wet, giving you a hug with a smile on his face.

"Heh, wanted to pass by ya know? See if y'all already made me a lil niece or nephew-"

"EPIC!!"

"What? I'm waiting for my adoptive brother to have a kid for me to spoil!"

Cross blushes furiously, his skull getting purple as he looks away to the ground, Epic chuckles as he grabs a box of chocolates out of seemingly nowhere offering it to your direction.

"By the way, brought you two a gift."

The skeleton looked at his wrist and then back at you.

"Oh look at the time, need to be going!"

He adds while heading to the door, waving goodbye with his hand and running towards the rain like a crazy man.

"...Why is he my best friend again?"

Cross asks turning his head to you, getting surprised when he saw half of the box already empty and your mouth chewing on small bits of chocolate.

"Already eating love?"

"Yup!"

He smiles and picks you up, walking to the couch while you continue eating, sitting down and placing you on his lap. His hand reaches for the remote, clicking a button and turning on the TV while his other hand holds your waist.

"Not going to give your boyfriend a piece?"

You giggle with chocolate in your mouth and move your face closer to his, crashing your lips on his and tongue kissing him, pushing the chocolate into his mouth and breaking the kiss.

"Mmh... Not sure what's sweeter, your mouth or the chocolate.."

Cross says as he swallows the chocolate, resting his arms on the back cushions. You grab his shirt and pull him to another kiss, this time you slowly rub your crotch against his, wrapping your arms around his neck catching a small glance of a purple glow coming from below before closing your eyes.

He broke the kiss and looked at you panting.

"Uhmmmm~ l-love... We shouldn't do this.."

"Why not huh Crossy?"

"W-What if I end up hurting you..?"

"Oh Cross... I know you won't... Plus is something we both want, isn't it?"

The skeleton blushes, a sign escaped his mouth, his hands removing his tank top and tossing it somewhere on the ground. Your hands touched his ribs and slowly trailed down to his ecto stomach to his covered erection, passing your hand around it.

You yelp as your back is suddenly pressed against the pillows, towering you. Cross's hand holding both your wrists while his other holds his pants and underwear down, exposing his hardened cock out. His fingers reaching for the bar of your shorts.

"You're way too clothed to my liking... Don't you think darling?"

He smirks and slips out your shorts, leaving you only in underwear and an oversized shirt. He starts rubbing his shaft against your covered entrance, drawing circles on your clit in a teasingly manner, making you arch your back a bit.

"Mmmh! C-Cross please..."

"Please what darling?"

He rubs harder, bending his back down to whisper in your ear.

"Tell me exactly what you want baby..."

"I want you to fuck me Cross! Please!"

He chuckles, letting your wrists free and trailing his hands to your underwear, ripping it out of the way.

"So wet already..."

Cross presses his tip against your entrance, his hands going up to your waist, lightly squeezing the soft skin.

"...(_____)? You're... Sure you want to do this?"

You nod, your eyes looking passionately at him with need.

"Alright... Tell me if it hurts too much.."

He slowly enters you, letting out a moan as he feels your warm hole tightening around his shaft. His hands wipe the small tears on your eyes while trying to stay as still as possible.

"Shh... It's okay it's okay pretty girl.. is it too much for you?"

"N-no...- j-just... Don't move for a bit Cross..."

He nods and trails kisses from your cheek down to your neck, nibbling and sucking the sensitive parts while his finger draws circles on your clit, his other hand still holding on your waist, yet more gentle than before.

You slowly move your hips up and then down, letting low moans as your hands wrap around the skeleton's shoulders. His hand moves from your clit to your waist once again, his hips slowly thrusting against yours.

"C-Cross.."

"Yeah pretty girl?"

"more.. please.."

He chuckles and starts going at a faster pace, his cock going in and out of you as your nails scratch his ribs, your skin clapping against his ecto while sweet kisses are given all over your neck. Cross moans were lower than yours, yet you could still hear them. You could feel a knot forming with every thrust he gave, your hand grabs the top of your hair as you tremble in pleasure.

"C-Cross.. I'm- ah! c-clooose..!"

"Huff... Me too pretty girl... Me too.."

His hand suddenly reaches for your leg between thrusts, quickly tossing it over his shoulder, giving him easy access to go deeper inside you.

"Ah.... (_____)... Want me to cum inside..?"

"Yes yes! Please Crossyy"

Your moans filled the living room as Cross's thrusts got sloopier and sloopier, his free hand touching your face and his thumb caressing your cheek as he makes one final thrust, coming inside your pussy as you cum too.

"Oh Cross... That was... Amazing.."

"I know sweetheart..."

He waits a few seconds before pulling out, cum spilling into the cushions as his arms wrapping around you. The skeleton flips you so you're laying in his chest as he grabs a nearby blanket on the couch and covers you both. He plants a kiss on your forehead seeing your eyes close.

"Rest well dear... Have nice dreams.."

He murmured softly, embracing you tightly as you fell into a deep peaceful slumber.

[kybercrystals94]

Come Back (part 5)

Read here on Ao3

<<Previous Chapter | Next Chapter>>

Rated: T | Words: 2109

TECH 

Tech, even for all his difficulty deciphering traditional displays of emotions, can feel the ire rolling off of his brother in waves. “I do not understand why you are angry with me,” he admits, trying to match pace with the cadet who seems determined to stay several steps ahead. 

“It wasn’t your fight, Tech,” Crosshair snaps.

“Your fight is always my fight,” Tech argues. “We are a squad.”

“You are a di’kut!” Crosshair groans, putting his hands to his head and grabbing fistfuls of pale hair. “Hunter is going to kill me.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t keep my mouth shut, can I? And now look at you!” 

Tech has no ability to look at himself as directed; however, he is aware that he does not look as he did when he and Crosshair left the barracks. He is trying to ignore the obvious crack in the right lens of his goggles, and his injuries likely match Crosshair’s: bruises, swelling, and split skin now covered in bacta patches. The Kaminoan medics had not been pleased when the trainers brought in an entire class of cadets. 

“We will tell him it was my fault,” Tech says.

Crosshair stops walking, grabbing Tech’s arm to make him stop too. “Why would we do that?” 

“It isn’t entirely a lie,” Tech tells him. “After all, you only said what you said because of me.”

“Stop trying to save me, Tech.” Crosshair shoves him. “You don’t always have to be the hero.” 

Tech stares at him. “What?” 

“I made my choice,” Crosshair hisses, shoving him again, hard. “You shouldn’t have to pay for it.” 

“Why are you doing this?” Tech asks. “Why are you pushing me away? Why won’t you let me help you?” 

Crosshair lunges forward, catching the front of Tech’s uniform shirt in his fists, pulling him close, and snarls, “I didn’t ask for your help. I told you to run. Plan 88. Did you hear me? Plan 88!” 

“Plan 88? What is Plan 88?” Tech tries to pull away, prying at Crosshair’s grip with shaking fingers, frightened by the sheer hatred in his brother’s voice. He’s never been scared of Crosshair. Not until…

And then Crosshair isn’t a cadet anymore. He is in the Empire’s armor. The Empire. Order 66. 

“Crosshair,” Tech gasps out, and he wraps his desperate, trembling fingers around his brother’s wrists instead. “We’re coming for you. We’re coming!” 

“I didn’t ask you to,” Crosshair reiterates, but some of the hatred has leaked out. “I didn’t ask you to die.” 

“I’m not dead,” Tech tells him. 

Crosshair tips his head. “You look dead to us.” 

Tech wakes gasping for breath, Crosshair’s voice raw and sharp still echoing in his ears. He moves to sit up, and while his entire body protests the movement, he doesn’t care. The pain means that he is awake. That he is alive. That he isn’t dead. 

You look dead to us. 

“Tech?” Kandria is standing a few meters away from him, her arms wrapped around a bundle. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine,” he tells her, but his voice betrays him. He swallows and glares down at his hands still trembling in his lap. 

“Okay,” Kandria says. She steps closer. “I brought you some clothes. Real clothes, that is.” She sets the stack on the cot beside him and lifts the top article. She holds it reverently, her thumbs brushing over the heavy, knitted material. “This sweater was my father’s.” 

“Thank you,” he tells her, and he hopes she can hear the depth of his sincerity. 

“Do you need help?” she asks, replacing the sweater to the stack. 

“I think I can manage,” Tech says, offering a thin smile. 

Kandria nods. “I’ll come back in a few minutes then with your breakfast. And Uncle Garo wants me to make a list of the parts you’ll need to build a transmitter radio.” 

“Excellent. Thank you, Miss Kandria.” 

The use of her name seems to surprise her, and she grins. “You’re welcome, Tech.” 

He waits until she has left the room before attempting further movement. He examines the clothing. The trousers look like they will be too wide and too short; however, they are in far better shape than his blacks. The sweater is softer than he anticipated. It is mostly dark blue, but the collar, cuffs and hem are edged in an earthy yellow design.

It takes him far longer to change than he would like, and it makes him realize just how far he will need to come in his recovery before he is in any position of escaping himself, let alone with the girl in tow. He knows that he will not be allowed to freely make contact with his brothers, let alone simply leave. 

There is a tentative knock.

“I am done,” Tech calls out. 

The door slides open and Kandria comes in with a flimsi notebook and a bowl of something that somehow smells both savory and sweet. He is sitting on the edge of the cot, and Kandria sits next to him, handing Tech the bowl. 

“It’s porridge,” she tells him, then whispers, “My own special recipe.” 

Tech takes a tentative bite and is pleasantly impressed. “It is surprisingly good.” 

“Thanks,” Kandria says, smiling. 

Tech continues to eat while Kandria draws little doodles on the edges of the flimsi.

“Crosshair is your brother with enhanced eyesight, isn’t he?” she asks suddenly. 

Tech nearly chokes on the bite he was swallowing. “Pardon?” he asks, although he knows exactly what she said; he just needs a moment to compose himself. 

“You said his name in your sleep,” Kandria explains. “You sounded so sad. Did something happen to him too?” 

“Too?” Tech echoes. 

��Well, something happened to you,” Kandria says, as though it is obvious. 

And it is.

“Oh,” Tech says.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Kandria tells him gently. “I just know sometimes it helps to talk about things when you’re sad. But not always.”

Tech stirs at the remnant remains of his porridge. “Crosshair is a prisoner of the Empire. We were trying to get information as to his location when…when I fell.” 

“Your other family was with you?” Kandria asks.

Tech nods, because the words catch in his throat. 

“So they think you are dead.” It isn’t a question. There is no question. Who could survive such a fall? Tech isn’t even sure how it is possible…and he was there…is here…

You look dead to us.

“I’m sorry,” Kandria whispers. 

Tech clears his throat. “I will not be lost forever, and neither will Crosshair,” he tells her firmly, because verbalizing it might somehow make it true. 

Kandria nods, and there is a certainty to the action that Tech appreciates deeply. He wants to tell her that he intends to take her with him, that he will not leave her behind; however, he isn’t yet sure how she would take such information, if it would be well received. She is not safe here, and her uncle does not deserve to have her in his care. It is in her best interest that she be rescued. Victims don’t always realize. 

“I suppose we’d better get started on this transmitter then,” Kandria says.

KANDRIA

“Why don’t clones have normal names?” 

Jaunt laughs. “What’re you talkin’ about, kid? You saying my name ain’t normal?” 

“Yes,” Kandria tells him unabashedly.

“Rude,” Jaunt huffs, but the grin on his face tells her that he isn’t actually mad. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen him mad. “You know, my name wasn’t always Jaunt. We used to have to go by our CT numbers. Still do on official documents and all that; however, unlike you natborns, we get to choose our names…or at least get given a name by our brothers that matches our charming personalities.” 

Kandria smiles. “Did you pick your name?” 

“Nope! It was given to me by one of my batchmates. We did a training exercise where we had to go on a thirty-six standard hour hike off-world. Afterwards, I said, sarcastically of course, ‘Well, that was a nice little jaunt.’” Jaunt uses both hands to indicate himself. “And just like that, my name was born.” 

“Do you like your name?” 

“Not at first. I was hoping for something more hardcore like Droid Slayer…but it’s grown on me.” 

“What name would you give me, if I were a clone?” Kandria asks. 

Jaunt stops walking to look down at her thoughtfully. “You want a clone name?” 

Kandria nods eagerly. 

“Well, then, you’ll have to earn it,” Jaunt tells her, then turns on his heel and continues on his patrol. 

Kandria gapes after him for a moment before jogging to catch up. “How?”

Jaunt shrugs. “I don’t make the rules, kiddo, I just follow them.” 

“Will you tell me when I earn it?” 

“‘Course I will. You can bet your bottom credit I’ll have a clone name picked for you by the end of the war.” 

Kandria grins and wonders what her clone name will be.

“Can you tell me about your name?” Kandria asks. 

Tech does not look up from the wire he is stripping. “What do you mean?” 

Kandria hesitates, then rephrases her question. “Did you pick your name or did your brothers?” 

“Ah,” Tech says. “Our names more or less identify with our enhancements. They are rather obvious.” 

“Oh.” Disappointed by the short answer, Kandria continues stripping her own wire, carefully following Tech’s example. 

Tech hums thoughtfully. “You seem well acquainted with clone culture.” 

“I was friends with a clone trooper,” Kandria says. “He told me a lot.” 

“What was his name?” 

Kandria hesitates. “Jaunt.” 

“I assume his name has a humorous backstory,” Tech comments. 

“When he was a cadet, he called a thirty-six hour training hike a ‘nice little jaunt’.” Kandria is surprised at how nice it feels to talk about him. 

Tech chuckles. “That reminds me of my brother Echo…he was not originally a member of our squad; however, his name was similarly acquired. He had an unfortunate habit of echoing information to his original squad. He still does, if I am being honest.” 

“Echo,” Kandria says. “That’s a nice name.” 

“He was not always fond of it,” Tech says. “But he seems pleased with it now.” 

Kandria laughs. 

“Our sister, Omega, was named like a natborn in a way,” Tech continues. “As far as I am aware, she was decanted with that name. You and Omega will get along well, I think.” 

Kandria nearly drops the wire and blade in her hands, turning to look up at Tech. He has gone still as well, his dark eyes wide. “Ah,” he says, almost to himself, and she hears him swallow. He puts down the wire. “That is…I think that if the two of you ever met, you would get along.” 

A question burns on Kandria’s tongue, one she hadn’t even dared to hope to ask, hadn’t even considered a possibility. “You’ll take me with you?” Her voice comes out as a breathless whisper. 

She isn’t sure Tech heard her until he gives a single nod, a lift and drop of his head. “That is the plan.” 

“The plan,” Kandria echoes, and she feels the thrill of terrified excitement. 

“I have not been given the impression that you are safe or happy with your uncle and cousins,” Tech says, and his voice is quiet, even though they both know that the men in question are away from the warehouse. 

“My father would not have wanted me with them,” Kandria says, moving her eyes to the floor. “Jaunt tried to protect me, but…he couldn’t forever.” 

Tech nods again. “I know that it is a lot to ask, but I hope you will trust me.” 

Impulsively, Kandria drops her wire and grasps his now empty hand, gripping it tight. “I do!” she insists. 

Tech looks surprised by the sudden contact, but he does not pull away. “It will not be easy,” Tech tells her, “and there are risks.” 

Kandria nods. “I know.” 

“Good,” Tech says. “Then I can count on your discretion? We must not give Garo any reason to believe we have any sort of scheme.” 

Kandria nods again. 

Tech’s hand until this moment has been slack in hers; however, now, he curls his fingers around hers and squeezes briefly before pulling away. “I will give you information as you need it; otherwise, it is safer that you remain in the dark.” 

“Okay,” Kandria agrees, even if she longs to ask more questions. She does trust him. She has to trust him. 

Because there is no one else left in the galaxy for her to trust. 

Until now. 

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[immortalityforthegoddess]

Can you do one with gun and a younger sister when they were little and they are rough play fight? They playing rough with each other and their mom couldn’t stop them. So their dad had to step in and stop them.

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐬

Thank you so much for your request love!

I had fun with this😌

You and your older brother gun were fighting, why? Because that fat bitch ate your snack. After his snack!

So now you and gun were now on the floor, bearing the ever living shit out of each other awhile your poor mother, somi tried her best to intervene. "Both of you cought it out right now!"

She yelled, northern you or gun cared to listen to hear so neither of you could hear her. Somi already tried to rip them a part but ended up getting bitten somehow.

"GUN YOU FAT FUCK! YOU ATE MY SNACK, ADMIT IT DAMMIT!", You shouted as both of you continued to roll around on the floor, " YEA AND SO WHAT, NOT LIKE YOU NEEDED IT!"

Gun and you kept throwing insult after insult, punch after punch, all while somi was just done and sat as you two, killed each other over food. Both of you are fat fucks in her opinion.

As somi sat there, she heard the door open and foot steps Arpouch, when she looked it was her husband, Shinegn. He didn't acknowledge her say first, keeping his eye on his children who now, looked like they have been through world War 1 and 2.

"Why haven't you stopped them?" He asked, she simply gave a bored look and said "tried, one of them bit me so.", shinegn hummed, " why are they fighting?"

"Over food."

Shinegn looked like it took a moment for what she just said to register in his mind, "there fight each other over...food?", did he hear her right? There's no way he heard her right. " Yes, food.",

There's no doubt in shingens mind he has some weird ass kids. Who fights over food when there an entire house full of it? After a moment he stepped forward to his children and walk over to them.

As you and gun shouted insults at each other, suddly both were lifted off the ground and now in the air. Both stopped fighting out of confusion and looked over to there father and both froze.

"...hi daddy... ", was all you could muster, gun didn't speak at all. Shingen looked between his daughter and than his son. Both had red marks and scratches all over them.

"Stop it."

Was all shinegn needed to say before he put both of them back on the ground, somi watch as you and your brother ran out of that room fathers than light itself. She looked back over to her husband. He looked annoyed, and probably was.

"Little brats."

Was all he said as he walked out, somi let out a low chuckle, he most certainly was correct. You and gun were basically little demons.

[xetlynn]

JJK Imagines- Yuji Itadori

Impression

Summary: reader is chubby due to her cursed technique, she doesn’t believe she’s a good fighter because of the way she looks. Always being hard on herself. She’s not used to praise or compliments.

Not requested.

[jjk] [master list]

“I can’t believe Gojo is having me train you. Megumi might be better.” I frown, not understanding how I’m certified enough to train the boy who needs to be stronger due to being Sukuna’s vessel. I’m only a grade 2, on the verge of being semi grade 1. Megumi is practically building himself to be grade 1.

 “Don’t be hard on yourself. You’re strong.” Megumi dryly says. “Yeah, [Name]-chan! He praised you when he talked to me. So that has to mean you’re amazing!” Itadori expresses our senseis supposed approval of me. 

“Brother!” A voice calls out loudly, I wince at the sound, I glance over to Megumi who does the same thing. “Todo, I told you that wasn’t me! I don’t know what took over me!” Itadori cries out, running away from the larger man who has a grin on his face. “Oh but don’t you remember when we went to the movies together, brother! Don’t say that!” Todo responds, catching up with the boy and lifting him up in the air. “That never happened!!!” 

I cover my mouth attempting to not laugh at my classmate who’s getting manhandled by an annoying brute of a guy. Unfortunately he’s still in Tokyo after the whole sister school exchange event. Where Kyoto’s principal gave his students orders to kill Itadori. 

“I’m going to go find Maki, she needs help with something.” Megumi whispers over to me, probably so Todo doesn’t see him and give him the same treatment that is being given to Itadori. “Todo, Itadori needs to do some training.” I cross my arms, the man turns his head over to me. Giving me a weird expression before ignoring me. My expression falls.

Todo’s always treated me this way, I roll my eyes. “Hey, I know you heard me, you big lug!” I Smack his arm that was holding onto Itadori. “He can do his training with me! Can’t you, brother?” Todo places the pink haired teen down but a hand is still on his shoulder so he can’t go anywhere. I see a sweat go down his forehead, he quietly pleads with me to help him. 

The big guy doesn’t enjoy my company very much after he lost against me in a fight. And for some reason he kept bringing up how I am not his type. I’m guessing it’s because I’m not skinny nor super tall for his liking. “Ah, he isn’t disagreeing!” He roars into triumphant laughter, bringing Itadori into his side. “Did you know that we have the same type? Tall girls with big butts!” Todo smiles proudly but Itadori puts his head down in shame for some reason. 

I feel my chest pang a little bit. I didn’t know Itadori had the same type actually… I sort of have been catching feelings for the boy. I don’t even know why. I can’t get myself to have a full conversation with him without panicking but he’s always been persistent in talking with me from the beginning. When we thought he was dead that’s when I kind of realized my feelings for him. Obviously it was a small thing since we hadn’t known each other long. When he showed up with Gojo sensei my heart raced. Indicating I still had that stupid crush on him. 

It didn’t matter though, I’m not his type. I don’t know if I would be anyone’s type. My cursed technique makes me… bigger than others. Having to eat more than a regular person. 

“Todo, Gojo wants [Name] to train me today. I can’t go against Sensei’s orders!” Itadori scratches the back of his head awkwardly. Todo frowns, letting him go. “I guess I can’t argue with that! We will have to hang out later!” Itadori gets smacked in the back pushing him toward me and I catch him.

“Let’s go, Itadori.” I sigh, dragging him to the training ground. “You know you can call me Yuji, right?” He responds sadly, picking up his pace so I can let him go. My hand feels cold now. “Mm, Itadori rolls off the tongue better.” I tease him, his face drops as I snicker. “Kidding, kidding!” “Okay Yuji, we should start with some stretching!” I say as we enter the training ground. I place my hands on my hips. 

“I’ll follow your lead [Name]-chan!” He gives me a closed eyed smile, my face grows hot. “R-right.” I stammer, beginning the training with stretches. I feel foolish. This idiotic crush is going to form a false narrative of my personality to him! 

I disregard looking at him when we do the stretches, only naming out what I am doing with my face avoiding his area. Normally I keep my head held high, this stuff doesn’t bother me! Why is it affecting me so harshly? He’s been back a total of three days and I act as if I’ve had a crush on him for months. He hasn’t been around for a month beforehand!

After I finish my stretches I glance up to see him still doing his last one. I stand straight, observing his body structure. The muscles appeared vividly through his workout shirt. “Am I taking too long?” He abruptly inquires, startling me out my staring.

 “Hm, why would you ask that?” I tilt my head to the side. I wasn’t rushing him, at least I hope it didn’t seem like I was. 

“You were staring, and seemed upset.” He shoots up from his spot, stretching out his arms. “Oh sorry, I was thinking.” I lie… partially. “Thinking about what?” 

“How I’m going to beat you!” I kick his legs causing him to fall to the ground with a loud grunt. “Awe, you caught me off guard!” Yuji whines, getting right back up and we get into defensive positions. He goes to hit me but I move away swiftly using my cursed energy to make me move faster. 

“That was the point!” I giggle, I attempt to punch him but he grabs my fist, swiping my feet like I did to him. Only I didn’t fall down. Surprisingly catching myself in time. “I wasn’t expecting you to fight this well!” He tells me earnestly. 

“Don’t underestimate anyone, Yuji Itadori!” I push on his pressure points in his back. Shocking him enough to get him back on the ground. “What was that?” He yells as I smirk, shrugging my shoulders. Dropping down to attack him, unfortunately he rolls away in time. Tackling me down this time. 

“What’s your technique?” He demands to know, I raise a brow. I thought he’s seen me use it before. I think back to the past few times I’ve fought. 

I guess he’s never really been around to see it… I didn’t go with him, Nobara or Megumi when they went to that building where he died from Sukuna. And in the event I was separated from him, putting up a fight against Momo and Mai with Nobara. “You’ll have to find out.” I huff out, absorbing his minimal cursed energy that he was currently using. He doesn’t use it much but it’s something for me to take. 

I shove him off of me, showing off the muscularity I now suddenly had. I already have impressive strength but absorbing others' energy only feeds it. 

Pretty much superhuman, which I’ve heard Yuji has that normally without any cursed energy. I sort of got to witness it when he sparred with Gojo for fun earlier. “You’re stronger than before.” Yuji states, I smile with a nod. 

“That’s your cursed technique? Strength?” He seems confused, he isn’t far off but it’s not the answer. I hear someone walking into the grounds. Yuji and I don’t look away from one another. It was Panda. I focus on his energy, slowly absorbing it without him realizing. 

“Your cursed energy… It grew!?” He shouts, I then attack him once again. This time it throws him backwards about 15 feet from where I stood.  

“Hey, I told you to stop doing that to me!” Panda reprimands angrily but doesn’t do anything about it. “Sorry.” I mutter, I don’t think it was loud enough for him to hear though. “You took his cursed energy?” Yuji mainly talks to himself as he gets back up. I could tell he was tired though. It was an effect on what I did. 

“Mine too?” He glances down at his hands. Yuji fully lifts himself up, running to get me. I stick my tongue out before I run out of the way. He hit the pillar I was in front of him. Knocking him straight down. 

I give back Panda and Yuji’s energy. “You okay, Itadori?” I stood above him, slightly bent over so my face was in his. His eyes open. “It’s Yuji, [Name]-chan!” He groans, taking my reached out hand to help him stand up. “Sorry!” I bite back a laugh. 

“That was so cool!” He cheers suddenly. I awkwardly thanked him, holding myself. “Does it tire you at all? How strong can you get? Actually, how many people’s cursed energy can you take before it’s too much?” He quizzes me, my face scrunches at all the questions not knowing when I can answer any of them as he continues to praise my cursed technique. My face was burning as well since I didn’t expect him to be this impressed by this. 

“It makes me hungry.” I spurt out, rubbing my stomach not soon after it growls. “Wait, really?” He asks. 

“Mhm! If I absorb too much it weakens me, making me super hungry.” I explain to him, wiping sweat off of my forehead, I turn to talk to Panda but it seems he had already left the grounds. Usually after I train he joins me to get food, knowing that I’m going to be ultra hungry after using my technique. He helps with my errands as well. My shoulders drop in disappointment. Who’s going to help me now? 

 “Let’s go get food then.” Yuji’s face gets serious. 

“Oh, it’s okay. I still have some things to do before I go get food.” I say, I didn’t want to be alone with Yuji unless we were fighting. Eating food with him… seemed too romantic for me. “I can help!” Yuji offers, I flinch, not knowing how to get out of this now. “You don’t have to, I’ll be okay.” I wave him off. Starting to walk off the grounds. 

“I’ll pay! But if you truly don’t want to go with me. I understand. We’re not true friends just yet.” He walks beside me, I mentally curse at myself for making him think that we aren’t true friends! 

“I- I want to eat with you! I just don’t want you to feel obligated to hang out with me.” I stop in my tracks to bow my head down, now feeling weirdly shameful. 

“[Name]-chan I hope I didn’t make you feel like I don’t want to hang out with you.” He bows down fully to apologize to me. “I actually asked Gojo-sensei for you to train me because I wanted to hang out with you!” He blurts out, surprising me. I take a step back. “Really?” I ask. Gojo just went up to me telling me I had to train him and I didn’t have a choice.

He peaks up while still being bowed down. “Yeah… you just seem really cool. I hope that isn’t weird.” He slowly lifts his upper body back up to look at me. 

“It’s not weird at all. Thank you, Yuji.” I wrap him in a hug. I’ve never had someone find me cool. It was new. People’s first glance at me is usually the last. I don’t impress anyone, the way I look pushes people away instead of reeling them in. Megumi and Panda were the only ones who spoke to me first. Megumi doesn’t judge quickly though. It’s something I always appreciated. 

“Of course.” Yuji hugs me back before I let go. “Let’s go get food!” I grin, taking his hand. 

+Extra+

“Why didn’t you tell me how cool, [Name]-chan is!?” Yuji shakes Megumi dramatically. “Her technique is so cool, I want to hang out with her all the time!!!” He tells the dark haired boy who just gives him a straight faced response. “Seems like you have a crush on her.” Megumi bluntly says. Yuji lets go of the boy. 

“A crush on [Name]...” He feels his heart begin to beat fast. “You call her [Name]-chan. You talk about her too much. A crush.” Megumi sighs. 

“Hm… I think I do…” Yuji pictures [Name]’s face in his mind, making him smile softly. 

[apomaro-mellow]

Runaway Royalty 10

Part 9

Eddie spent the rest of the evening convening with his inner circle in one of the cave’s alcoves, speaking so quietly, there wasn’t a way to figure out where the conversation was going, even when Steve found reason to go by the mouth of it no less than three times. Not that he was counting. No, Robin was and before he could make his forth pass, she hooked her arm with his and dragged him off to the space she’d taken as their own. 

“I’d say you look as lost as a child but I’ve never seen a pup so forlorn as you right now.”

“I do not!”, Steve pulled his arm away and sat on the blankets provided to them.

Robin knew that pose. It was his ‘I’m going to sit in front of my vanity and primp’ pose that he did. Usually to ignore someone until they went away. But as he didn’t have a vanity-

“Where did you get that?”, Robin gasped as Steve took out a compact mirror.

“I always pack the essentials”, Steve said, looking himself over, fluffing his hair with one hand while the other held the mirror.

Robin rolled her eyes. “You can’t ignore me forever with that little thing.”

“I can ignore you just long enough.” He brought the mirror closer, looking for what, Robin couldn’t tell. Steve would spend hours in front of his vanity and Robin could never tell you what Steve had even changed. But he always seemed satisfied by the end of it.

Robin plopped down next to him, scooting until her head was in his lap. Steve was able to hold out for approximately thirty seconds before looking down at her. Only to see her eyes had gotten big, round, and wet. Steve groaned.

“Don’t use those against me. I’m the one who taught you how to do that.”

“I learned from the best”, Robin pouted.

Steve sighed and put the mirror away. Robin smiled in triumph and sat up, leaning her shoulder against his. Steve sighed again and nuzzled the top of her head. She may have been an alpha and he an omega, but he was still her big brother. That five minute difference meant something to  him.

“What are you thinking about?”, Robin asked.

“It’s silly.”

“Sillier than running away from home?”

“It’s as silly as thinking that we may need to return home”, Steve confessed.

Robin blinked and pulled away. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Eddie said that Prince Edwin’s disappearance is causing distress among his kingdom. With you and I gone, our kingdom won’t be too far behind.”

Robin frowned. “You don’t think there’ll be a coup, do you? Or a war? Just over us? There’s still a whole line of succession.”

“Having three royals suddenly disappear is no small thing”, Steve said.

“Yes, but we didn’t know about Prince Edwin when we did it”, Robin pointed out. “And do you really want to be apart from Eddie?”

Steve brought his knees up to his chest. “You know I don’t. I know this is just infatuation but I…it’s silly.”

“You’re very silly today.”

“Could it not become a true romance? If it were given time?”

Robin laid her head on Steve’s shoulder and rubbed her cheek against it, scenting him. “I think whatever you want to do, you should do it soon. It feels like our path and his will diverge soon.”

That night, they cuddled up close together and fell asleep. Royal blood dictated that after a certain age, they had to sleep separately. Common folk typically slept with their pack in nests but if the royal family did so, it made it all the more easier for assassins. They’d both missed being able to sleep with each other.

But when morning came, Robin tugged his ear gently, coaxing him awake. It might have been gentle, but he was still annoyed by it and tried going back to sleep. 

“You have a gentleman caller”, she whispered into his ear.

Steve stiffened and then quickly relaxed. He whispered back. “How long?”

“He’s been stalking for about ten minutes.”

He wanted to slap her. “And you didn’t wake me?”

“I’ve been trying.”

Steve turned onto his back, pretending to stretch and yawn, then rose to a sitting position. He fixed his hair up a bit just in time to hear Eddie’s footsteps move across their cave. But instead of continuing, as if he were patrolling, he paused at the mouth of it.

“Oh, you’re up.”

“I am”, Steve said, voice soft.

Robin could have rolled her eyes but she refrained. She knew Eddie was trying to talk to Steve but was being annoyingly coy about it. It was a little funny though, watching Steve put on the whole ‘demure omega’ act.

“Well good morning to you. And to you Robin”, Eddie gave a bow.

“Good morning Eddie. I assume you have business with my brother, yes?”

“That I do, if I may have your leave”, he said as he rose back up.

“Hmm, I don’t know, the last time you two were left alone-”

Steve threw the blanket off of himself, into Robin’s face and got up to meet Eddie at the mouth of the cave. “Ignore her. She doesn’t know when a joke has gone too far.”

Eddie chuckled as he watched Robin struggle under the fabric. “Oh but ‘tis no joke for me. She is your kin and an alpha at that. I intend to do right by the both of you.”

“And to what end?”, Steve asked.

“I invited you both to join my pack. That makes you my responsibility.”

“Is that why you wish to converse with Steve alone?”, Robin asked, finally getting to her feet.

Eddie’s cheeks flushed and he hesitated to answer just long enough for Robin to scoff. He was so incredibly obvious. He and Steve deserved each other, truly.

“Go on, the both of you. Just remember sound travels in these tunnels.”

Now Steve was blushing but he was already rushing Eddie out. It was odd, how short they’d known each other and yet he couldn’t wait to get him alone again.

“So what did you want to talk about?”, Steve asked, their arms linked together.

Eddie’s heart swelled when their gazes met. He couldn’t believe he’d come to care for someone in such a short amount of time. He may need to return as Prince Edwin, but that didn’t mean he had to part from Steve, did it? Eddie wanted to believe his fiance would understand. Wherever he was. Maybe Prince Stephen had gone to elope with his own lover, Eddie couldn’t be sure.

The only thing he could be sure of was the fact that he wanted more time with the omega on his arm right now. Not some faceless royal who he’d never met. Eddie led their stroll across the main cavern, towards his own space.

“I meant what I said. I invited you and Robin to join us. And I know we haven’t officially set it, but I already consider the both of you pack.” 

Eddie felt emboldened when he could smell Steve’s interest. When they got to his den, Eddie sat Steve on a pillow. One that seemed like it was meant for nicer places than a cave. A blanket over the mouth acted as a privacy curtain for the space.

“You heard what I said last night. I have to return home. Someone else will lead the bandits. But you and Robin you could…” Eddie knelt in front of Steve. “You could come and stay with me.”

“S…stay with you?”, Steve breathed out.

“I want to court you the way you deserve, Steve. For longer than a day, for longer than a month. You deserve love letters, and courting gifts, and for me to earn Robin’s approval.”

“You would do all of that? Welcome us into your home and promise me all of that?”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s hands. “I may not look like I come from much but we’ve got plenty of room.” It was all Eddie had thought about last night. Bringing Steve into the castle, introducing him to his family and being allowed to show the world his love. It was unorthodox, a prince courting and then marrying a commoner. But it was what his parents had done. That was something he’d been entirely truthful about.

Not many knew exactly what happened to the Bandit King. But Princess Tannis falling for someone below her station was well known. His parents would be hypocrites to not accept Steve. If they had a problem with it, he’d run away again. But Steve was meant for the throne.

“If I accept…”, Steve started, his hands smoothing up Eddie’s arms. “Would we be allowed to consummate the courtship?”

“I don’t see why not”, Eddie said, his own arms coming around Steve’s waist and bringing them to their feet. 

Their faces got close, pausing to savor their scents mixing when the blanket was pulled back, revealing Gareth. “I drew the short straw. Come and eat.”

Steve sighed but Eddie patted his hip. “All for the best, my sweet. I said you deserve better than a forest floor and I didn’t mean a cave.” Now that his path was clear, Eddie knew exactly what he had to do. What he wanted to do. Any thoughts of Prince Stephen had been completely erased from his mind. It was all just Steve, Steve, Steve.

Part 11 coming soon

[localcanadiancreature62]

BillfordWeek2024,Week 4 - What Could've Been

Buckle up chucklefucks,this is the last week of BillfordWeek2024 and y'alls have until the 25th to finish your entries. Kiddingg,it doesn't matter if you get them done like two or three days after loll i just wanted the event to have an official end. This is also my own written entry that i was supposed to make at the 19th whoopsss. @aria-greenhoodie @aaabatteryy @wind-tail @spaghettipal @cecilscribbles

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Title - In a different life,in a different time (hehe. a different form,a different time)

Ford is drinking coffee in his bedroom at night while he writes about his new findings regarding the existence of Jackalopes and the Boogeyman in his new Journal 4,sighing contentedly as he recalls capturing the antlered creatures with his niece and nephew without feeling any sort of dread or paranoia this time. "Finally. A moment to myself without having to deal with the portal Bill's tomfoolery and alll of that nonsense. It's just me,and my wonderful memories of my family. Nothing can ruin this blissful moment." Ford says to himself as he embraces the peace that the universe has finally given him,he then continues documenting his findings as he sketches the Jackalopes into the Journal. He then pours himself another cup of coffee straight from the brewing machine,sniffing the bitter beans as he then slowly slurps the beverage while enjoying the moment. Only for him to drop the cup after getting startled by the sudden ringing of the telephone on the table. He then scoffs in frustration after realizing what he had done as he then answers the phone to see who is calling him at this hour.

"Stanley i swear if this is another one of your prank calls-." Ford remarks as he thought it was his brother trying to contact him for another one of his dumb jokes,only for him to hear a familiar high-pitched shrill voice yell into the other line. "SIXER PLEASE LET COME OVER HERE! I NEED TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING!. MAYBE THIS'LL MAKE YOU GET BACK WITH ME!." Bill exclaims as he desperately screams into the Theraprism landline while Ford sighs in exasperation after realizing that this is the billionth time his triangular ex has called.

"Oh. It's you. Bill,how many times do i have to tell you that we're done?!. I don't need you in my life anymore,all you did was ruin it whenever you were around!." Ford shouts as he then roughly puts the phone back on the rotary in anger,only for him to hesitantly grab it back after realizing that the triangle won't hang up until he gets what he wants. "You're still there,aren't you?." Ford asks as he then hears the isosceles practically crushing the phone in excitement. "Yes. Please come over. I found something that'll finally convince you. I'm begging." Bill replied as the genius can hear the pathetic desperation oozing from his voice.

Ford then pinches the bridge of his nose as he tries to consider visiting his dumb ex once more despite knowing that it'll end in them arguing again while the creature gets sent to solitary confinement for aggression,but part of him misses his muse and he remembers that they used to have such a great partnership before things soured between them. "Fine. I'll hear out your pathetic whining again. So much for a peaceful evening.." Ford says as he then hangs up,not allowing the triangle to excitedly ramble about how he's so happy that he's visiting again.

Bill then has the Axolotl prepare to teleport his genius to the Theraprism as Ford then puts his trenchcoat back as he then puts a laser gun into his pocket. As while the triangle won't be able to hurt him anymore,he can never be too careful and he figured that it'd be better to be safe than sorry especially regarding his volatile former muse who still has his powers albeit they're limited. The researcher then goes over outside as he waits for get himself transported to the glorified insane asylum that is the Theraprism,and he closes his eyes only to arrive at the asylum while eyeing the rows of prison phone cubicles before him. He then spots his former muse waving at him and urging him to come over. Ford then sighs as he walks over to the cubicle where the isosceles is.

"So what is it that you so desperately wanted to show me?." Ford questions while glaring at the triangle who's staring at him with an adoring eye only to snap out of it once the man calls his name. "You're so handsome- Wait huh?. Oh right. Check this out." Bill says as he then projects an alternate version of himself and Ford,where he appears to be human while his genius is like 80 years old via beaming up a holographic image of the other reality onto the glass wall of the cubicle. The holographic projection flashes images of the alternate Bill and Ford being so happy together,getting married having fun dates and even spending time with the rest of the Pines without any chaos or destruction caused by the triangle ruining everything. The og Ford has his mouth agape in shock over the projection,not expecting to see himself being so.. peaceful with his former muse albeit in a different reality. "Wh-Why are you showing me this?. Is this even real?,is this an actual alternate reality or are you tricking me again?." Ford remarks in confusion,only for the triangle to look at him distantly.

"It's real,i saw it with my own eye while sulking about the many realities where i succeeded in my plan but we're happy together in the end after some trial and error. I looked through a lot of different universes where we're happy to cope,but this one stood out. Look at this,look at the projection closely. This is what happens,when i actually talk about my issues and therapy works out and we make up instead of me pushing you away." Bill explains as he then started crying in guilt,big fat tears streaming from his eye.

"Look at what could've been,look at what happens to us when i actually deal with my dumb problems instead of ruining everything for myself like i always do." Bill says as he kept crying,the man wincing as he saw the isosceles cry while not knowing what to make of it as it could be another trick. "And you're telling me this,because?." Ford questions in annoyance despite also feeling bad about letting their relationship become so bitter.

"Because maybe we can be like them. Maybe we can make up and i can have the happy ending that alternate reality gave the other me. Where we're married and i actually get along with the rest of the Pines." Bill remarks while wiping off his own tears as the genius stares at him in disbelief. Ford then clutches the telephone as he watches the triangle keep holding onto the Theraprism landline while still projecting the image onto the wall. "I- Bill,i know you want us to get back together because you want to get out of this glorified asylum and for.. other reasons. But this is impossible with the current sluggish rate of your recovery. And i'm not even sure if this future scenario happens in our reality,for all we know this 'happy ending' that you speak of only takes place in that reality and you're destined to rot here for all of eternity." Ford says coldly as the isosceles gasps in shock over his reaction.

"Okay. If you want me to rot here,fine. Be that way. But i just want you to know,that you never stopped being my genius even after everything." Bill replied bitterly as the man ignores him and walks away from the prison phone cubicle. The triangle looks at his genius sadly as he watched him walk away but he knew it was for the best since all he has done is ruin him like Ford himself said.

'And you never stopped being my dear muse.. I wish we could make up too,but things have just gotten so difficult for us.' Ford thought to himself as he voices what he wanted to say to his own mind rather than his beloved muse whom a part of him still missed even with everything the isosceles had done to hurt him,he secretly yearned for the great partnership they used to have before the betrayal but he knows that he can't fix something that's been broken beyond repair.

[skyartworkzzz]

I came back to promp another lore ramble

Also could we get a status update on the fic? I really want to see nari go back in time for the lamb

YIPPEEEEEEEEE love me lore ramble!

FIRST AND FOREMOST, OFC!! Heres a tiny lil update of the fic so far! I finally got back to writing it and am just struggling to find out what happens next.......but I promise its in the works! <3

NOW onto the ramble! Yesterday I went a bit ham on my Creepypasta reimagination, so thats what we will be talking about today! Specifically centered around Jeff the Killer CUZ IM THAT PREDICTABLE OKAY-

Anyways! Lore under the cut <3 tw for violence and gore!!

Jeff The Killer:

My Jeff is around his 35 years old and is the younger brother of Liu, who's only 1-2 years older and works as an architect

The brothers share the same apartment, Jeff decided to move in with Liu after living with their parents for a while. Hes currently trying to amount enough money in order to move somewhere of his own

Jeff suffers from depression and has psychotic episodes from time to time, so he has to take meds. Even after he became a killer, he still steals the needed medication to keep his mental exhaustion in check

From time to time, their lower-floor neighbor Ms. Harper calls Jeff to fix her old sink. Everytime Jeff goes over, her son pesters him for fun, which is why Jeff hates him

One day, both Jeff and Liu are invited to the bday of Ms. Harper's son, which was being held at his aunt's house. While in the party, her kitchen sink floods and so she asks Jeff to fix it. While doing so, Ms. Harper's kid accidentally throws chemicals on Jeff's face after trying to prank him with his friends

Jeff is then driven to the hospital by Liu, but they suffer a car crash, which makes Jeff's face melt down and turn pale white. Liu suffered the major damages and had to go through surgeries to put his organs back in place

When Jeff wakes up and sees the damage that was done, he suffers a mental breakdown which leads him to murder Ms. Harper's son. Once the deed was done, he disappeared and started his serial killing career

Jeff cut his lips into a smile specifically to terrify Ms. Harper's son, as if guilting him bout thinking what he did was funny

Before going off the radar, Jeff visited Liu one last time without others knowing, saying he didnt blame his brother for what had happened. Liu, although half-conscious, was able to hear Jeff telling him to go back to sleep

Homicidal Liu:

HONESTLY my Liu doesnt have much of "homicidal" to him LMAO

After the events that led both him and Jeff into the hospital, Liu went through surgeries to recover and was in a coma for a couple of days, which was the time it took for Jeff to start his killer life

When Liu woke up and learned that his brother had disappeared, he quickly volunteered to help and search for him, until finally discovering he was a murderer

Convinced to bring him back to his senses, Liu begged to be part of the police operation to capture Jeff, after proving he could be of use for knowing how his brother worked. And so, he was teamed up with a detective called Jane, who was in charge of arresting Jeff

After much investigation and searching, Liu and Jane finally came face to face with the killer, but came to a fight which led Jeff to carving a smile on Liu's face too and almost ripping his eyelids off like his own. Liu was led back to the hospital after this and received stitches

Seeing as they were lacking experience to capture Jeff, both the detectives accepted to undergo a special training. However, due to Liu's physical state, he wasn't able to finish it and decided to remain on the more schemeful side of the operation rather than direct combat

Given his stitches on his mouth and the horrible wounds his brother left on him, Liu constantly uses a mask and clothes that cover most of his body

Jane the Killer:

Jane works as a detective for the police, she is happily married to a woman named Mary and both live in a spacious, fancy apartment

Her parents were kindhearted and lived with her little sister, Jessie, in a simple house around the quieter parts of the city

Being one of the best agents and praised by the government, Jane was tasked with tracking down Jeff and bringing him to justice. It was during this search that Liu came into contact with her, after learning she was in charge of the operation

Throughout the times they spent together trying to capture Jeff, the killer murdered Jane's parents as a warning for her to leave him alone. But understandbly, that only made her more convinced to seize him with a new goal in mind: kill Jeff

When Liu and Jane received the special traning, Liu wasnt able to participate due to his condition, but Jane carried out until the last step. She was injected with Liquid Hate and gained her superpowers, with the side-effects being her skin turning pale and her eyes and hair black

After the "training" was done, Jane came closer and closer to finally capturing Jeff, but with an unexpected drawback: she was now wanted by the police for committing crimes she couldnt remember doing. Given the new scenario, the detective started working as an underworld punisher

She still searches for Jeff and stays in touch with Liu, now secretly since she is also being hunted down. They both still work as partners from time to time trying to find his brother

Lil extras!

After her parents were killed, Jessie moved in with Jane and Mary, being a survivor of Jeff's wrath luckily for not being home that day

Liu does not know Jane intends to kill Jeff, and she will never tell him, for she knows he will try to stop her

The Liquid Hate project was actually a Proxy experiment, organized by one of Slenderman's Agents who was also the scientist in charge of the special training Jane and Liu received. Jane became a Sleeper thanks to said experiment, with homicidal tendencies she is luckily able to channel to wanted criminals

That is all for now! Theres a whole lot more I havent said here cuz omfg thats too long already

MAYBE ONE DAY ILL BE able to write my own fanfictions about these, who knows

Anyways! Bless chu for the curiosity <3