#fanfic: sc

[chevroletdean]

leather jacket and pumpkin spice latte ── ✮⋆˙☕🎃

pairing: dean x (gender neutral) reader genre: fluff warnings: slightly suggestive but nothing explicit word count: 1.6k

a/n: i've also published this little drabble on ao3. i’m just craving fall weather and the halloween mood.

He had to do a double take.

Dean had not gotten much sleep tonight – hence the decision to slip out of the motel room and grab coffee to go so early in the morning –, so who really knew, if he wasn’t still dreaming? The sight before him sure could have been straight out of his imagination.

Actually, he was sure he had a dream just similar to this before. Some time ago. Or maybe not too long ago. Kinda hard to tell with how often you haunted the three to four hours of shut-eye he was able to catch each night.

When he had left, you were curled up in your blanket, looking like a little burrito wrap. He could barely see your face, a tuft of hair sticking out the only indication of your presence. He figured you were fast asleep and since there was a coffee shop just around the corner, it shouldn’t take too long for him to get back; and it didn’t. Except in the twenty minutes he’d been gone, you had already gotten out of bed, having exchanged the blanket for something else to wrap yourself into.

Not even the soft creaking of the old door to your shared motel room was enough to startle you. Dean’s eyes scanned you up and down, admiring the look of his leather jacket on you. The material hung loosely around your frame, several sizes too big on you. Hell, it was too big on him, but it seemed to swallow you whole, practically dwarfing you.

The leather was loosely crinkled at the joints of your elbows, as if you had attempted to roll up the sleeves a little, but soft, hugging your frame as you rummaged through the kitchenette‘s cabinets.

“Not even any damn tea here,” you sighed to yourself, bottom lip jutting out into a grumpy pout. Your mission to get at least somewhat warm and cozy failed miserably. You weren’t much of a morning person to begin with, but the busted heater in the motel room was your last straw.

October nights in Minneapolis were freezing, according to you at least. “Do we really need to go hunting a werewolf here? He‘ll probably turn into an icicle once the sun sets anyway,” you had grumbled during the car ride.

“Will a pumpkin spice latte do?”

Dean‘s voice startled you at last. He watched you visibly flinch, spin your head around and stare at him with wide eyes. You blinked at him first, then at the disposable cups in his hands and he could practically see your eyes light up with anticipatory sparkles.

You had teased him about his quote-unquote fragile masculinity before, but watching your lips curl up into a giddy smile was worth the feeling of self-consciousness at the coffee shop‘s counter. Somehow asking for extra sweetener and added vanilla went against his principles.

You never understood his aversion to coffee with milk and sugar and how it wasn’t as tough as Dean’s usual americano order. Either way; maybe those syrupy sweet beverages weren‘t too bad after all if they made you happy. And maybe instead of caffeine, he just needed the adrenaline rush of your fingers brushing against his. You took the cup he held out for you – or rather snatched it away.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled. “You’ve got plenty of time to practice the goblin thing for Halloween.”

His teasing remark earned him no more than a roll of your eyes. You were much more occupied with the brew in your grasp, clearly savoring the warmth on your hands and the sweetness on your tongue as you took a sip. The pleased hum that left your lips bordered on a moan and thus sent a shiver down Dean’s spine.

“Whatever witch blessed Minnesota with pumpkins in these weather conditions, may no hunter find them,” you hummed happily.

“I‘m pretty sure the artificial flavor is not from any local pumpkin patch,” Dean snorted softly.

“Shut up and let me enjoy the magic.”

“Magic, huh?,” he grinned, before he gestured downwards to your… attire. “That your wizard‘s robe then?”

You nearly choked on your beloved pumpkin spice latte, realizing the state you were in. After having woken up pretty much abandoned and freezing, you had grabbed whatever clothing item was nearest. It just so happened to be Dean‘s leather jacket, which now made you feel absolutely silly. You had simply thrown it on without thinking, not even bothering to change out of your pajamas beforehand.

At least that was what you were telling yourself and what you were set on convincing Dean with too.

“I was cold,” you shrugged defensively, but there was no way Dean would fail to pick up on the way your ears turned slightly red.

Noticing the tell-tale sign of your flustered state, his lips curled up and he huffed out a bemused chuckle. Emerald eyes wandered down your body once again with that shameless spark in them that he never bothered to conceal. “Didn’t say I was complaining.”

Far from it.

He was itching to reach out to you, pull you closer, let his hands wander all over you. To slip his fingers under that jacket, under that cozy pajama–

“Let me get changed so we can visit the witness.” Your suggestion interrupted those thoughts of his and left him scoffing. Of course you’d divert the topic to the case. Surely, if he were to point it out, you’d blame it on your desire to abandon this nightmare of a motel.

But Dean wasn’t quite ready to get to work just yet.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he spoke, his tone as rich as the cinnamon in your coffee, and stole the pumpkin spice latte from your hands again, setting it on the small kitchen table. “What’s the rush? At least finish your coffee first.”

“It’s called a to go cup for a reason,” you half-chuckled half-sighed, but joined him as he took a seat regardless.

The two of you shared your coffee over idle conversation, your inner morning grouch more and more satiated with each sip. Despite your previous nagging about freezing, you definitely didn’t mind the coziness of lazier mornings like this.

Sure, the heater in this cheap motel wasn’t working properly and you forgot to pack an extra sweater to shield yourself from the crisp October air — but some aspects of fall did make you feel warm. Namely pumpkin spice lattes. Or the fact that Dean remembered you liked them with two pumps of vanilla.

Once having finished your coffee, you disappeared into the bathroom to get ready for the day. A quick shower later and having changed into your daily attire, you went back to Dean.

And you caught him red handed. He was eyeing your coffee tumbler, giving it an experimental sniff, before downing the very last bit of it. You snorted softly as he grimaced and tossed the empty thing into the waste bin.

He looked about as flustered as you did when he caught you wearing his jacket earlier. To each their own guilty pleasures, huh?

“Yummy?”

Christ, that smug smirk of yours was dizzying. Or maybe it was the sugar rush, from just a singular sip.

“Not for me,” Dean grumbled, tone more defensive than necessary. “Just wanted to try and..”

As he trailed off, he averted his gaze away from your eyes towards the leather jacket in your hands. A hint of irritation flickered across his expression.

You raised an eyebrow at him, your smirk not fading whatsoever. As you made your way towards the door, you stopped in front of him and held out the neatly folded jacket. “And?” You asked.

“And, uh… confirm that I prefer more subtle flavors,” he mumbled, his eyes wandering back up, but stopping at the curve of your lips. The second he saw them part slightly, some witty remark likely already on the tip of your tongue, he leaned in to place his own atop.

The kiss was chaste, but he was still able to taste it — behind the freshness of toothpaste, the mixture of cinnamon and nutmeg still lingered.

Subtle, just the way he preferred it. Or maybe it was just his imagination; or some of that autumnal magic you had mentioned earlier.

As Dean broke the kiss, he grinned watching your eyes flutter back open. He’d never get tired of that sight. Just like he’d never get tired of seeing you wearing his clothes. Placing one hand on top of the jacket, he nudged it back towards you.

“Keep it for today,” he said, his words neither an offer nor a suggestion, but rather a request. “Don’t want you complaining about being cold the whole day.”

You blushed and you pouted, but you didn’t protest and swiftly slipped it back on.

Dean gave an approving nod, adjusting the collar of it and smoothing the material over your shoulders. It was definitely too big on you, your hands weren’t even visible under the long sleeves anymore.

“You know you could’ve just asked if you wanted to borrow my clothes, sweetheart,” he teased, which earned him a playful smack on the chest.

“You weren’t complaining earlier,” you puffed. “And while we’re on the topic: You could’ve just asked if you wanted to try the pumpkin spice latte.”

Dean gave a short laugh and stole yet another kiss to savor the taste. You shivered as you felt his tongue slip past your lips and his fingers underneath the leather, settling on your waist. Even through the remaining layer of your shirt his touch seemed to leave a trail of fire down your sides.

“You weren’t complaining either,” he whispered, his warm breath on your flushed skin still the best remedy against cold weather.

credit & links: dean icons ──〃★ dividers ──〃★ request heretaglist: there's no taglist yet, but feel free to hmu if you want to be added <3

[superhedas]

favorite supercorp fanfics: i believe, you can get me through the night by jazzfordshire

Lena’s nails scratch at Kara’s scalp, just like Kara’s did on hers that day on the couch, and she feels like she’s going to melt into the linoleum. And, finally, Lena takes a thumb and drags it slowly over Kara’s lower lip, wiping off most of her lipstick.

It’s the single strangest and most exciting moment of Kara’s life, and she can’t for the life of her articulate why.

“There,” Lena whispers, her voice cracking slightly. “Not so buttoned-up now, are you?”

[scfrozenover]

Prompts open!

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[marinawolf]

It's You (Supercorp)

by marinawolf

The poll has spoken! Here it is- the angsty Supercorp fic (with a little bit of action and plot- it's a little long, sorry. I was gonna do two parts but that just complicates things so it's alllll here.)

Lena finds out after Lex decides to play a cruel game. (Filled with angst, betrayal, yearning etc etc. First kiss.)

3k words

The moon hung low in the inky sky, casting a haunting glow on National City. On the rooftop of the L Corp building, Kara lingered in the shadows, a solitary figure with a completely useless glass of champagne clutched in her hands, her eyes fixated on Lena. Oh, how she longed for the oblivion of intoxication. It would make things so much easier.

Kara sighed, taking a pointless sip from her champagne flute, the bubbles tickling her throat. The cool breeze ruffled her hair as she watched Lena. The world was enchanted by Lena Luthor, and Kara was no exception. She was everything - brilliant, brave, kind and beautiful. So so beautiful that Kara sometimes forgot how to breathe around her. Kara's fingers traced the rim of her champagne glass and she tried to tear her eyes away from Lena, a futile attempt to distract herself from the ache in her chest.

But unable to resist, Kara's gaze lingered on Lena's face, tracing the delicate curve of her smile and the sparkle in her eyes. She watched as Lena moved through the crowd, a vision in a black dress that sparkled in the moonlight, as if there were constellations wrapped around her body. The air seemed charged with an energy that only Kara felt, her super senses attuned to every detail. Lena's laughter, her heartbeat, the subtle shifts in her expressions - all of it was amplified for Kara. She could feel the familiar tug at her heart. Lena seemed so close yet so impossibly far away. The desire to confess, to bare her soul to Lena, burned within Kara. But the fear of rejection, of losing the one person who had come to mean everything to her, kept her rooted in silence. The irony wasn't lost on her - Supergirl, capable of facing the most formidable foes, was paralyzed by the mere thought of losing Lena.

A bitter taste lingered on Kara's tongue as she took another sip, futilely attempting to drown her emotions. If only she could find the courage to tell Lena the truth - that she was Supergirl, and that she was hopelessly and desperately in love with her.

Almost as if sensing Kara's gaze on her, Lena's eyes flickered toward hers and the most breathtaking smile formed on her face, causing Kara's heart to stop for a moment. Rao, those eyes. Kryptonite had nothing on those eyes, and when Kara looked into them, she could see her life unfolding in those shades of green.

Lena immediately made her way towards Kara, her arms already outstretched for a hug that felt like home.

"You look gorgeous, Lena", Kara whispered against Lena's neck, and she could swear that she heard Lena's breath catch.

As they parted, Lena's hand found Kara's wrist, "Why are you hiding in the corner? Come with me," Lena urged, gently tugging Kara towards the bustling crowd.

It was the last place she wanted to be but Kara couldn't say no. With a silent nod, she let Lena guide her, knowing that wherever Lena went, she would willingly follow.

--

"You okay?"

Kara blinked back to the present as Lena's concerned voice cut through the monotonous corporate chatter. She had zoned out as a man they were talking to droned on about his company. For some reason, she was finding it harder to stifle her feelings for Lena tonight and found herself spiralling, her thoughts running wild.

"Hm? Oh, yes, I am. Why?"

"You just seem out of it tonight. Do you want to leave? I'll just say my goodbyes, and we can get out of here," Lena suggested, her concern evident in her eyes.

Kara smiled at Lena, a warmth budding in her chest. Lena would totally leave her own event to take Kara home if Kara asked her to. She was that wonderful of a friend. They would probably end up at Lena's apartment, drinking wine and watching movies until Lena passed out, cuddled into Kara's side, making it so that Kara couldn't leave. And Kara would allow herself the indulgence- she would wrap her arms around Lena and close her eyes, and pretend that this was something else- something more. She allowed herself those moments of fantasy. And when they woke up entangled in each other the next morning, they would laugh it off, blaming it on the wine.

But no. Lena needed to be here. It was her event, after all and Kara needed to get some space anyway, and maybe some proper alien alcohol from her stash at home.

"You can't leave, Lena," she laughed, "but I think I am a bit tired. So I'm gonna go, okay?"

Lena's frowned, her gaze meeting Kara's, something indiscernible flickering within her eyes.

"Kara," Lena began, her voice holding a note of urgency, yet before she could continue, a sudden, deafening bang echoed through the air. Kara's eyes shot upward, shock and awe registering on her face as the night sky seemingly exploded around them.

Fire rained down on the rooftop and instinctively, Kara moved to take action, but before she could, Lena's arms enveloped her protectively, attempting to shield her from the fire and debris. It was a moment where the absurdity almost made Kara want to laugh. She felt momentarily frozen. Yet, she knew she couldn't remain passive. She had to save Lena. She had to save everyone.

A second explosion jolted the rooftop, causing Lena to lose her balance and her grip on Kara to falter. Taking the opportunity, Kara broke away from Lena and ducked into a corner, returning immediately as Supergirl.

Her first instinct was to ensure Lena's safety, and she grabbed her and lifted her off the rooftop, intending to carry her away from the looming danger. However, Lena resisted fiercely, fighting against Kara's hold, her frantic eyes scanning the rooftop.

"No!" Lena screamed, her voice fraught with desperation. "Kara is still there. I need to get Kara."

The plea reverberated through the night, casting a heavy shadow on Kara's heart.

"I'll find Kara. Don't worry," Kara reassured, her voice strained with the weight of deception.

She could see the anguish and worry in Lena's eyes, a reflection of deep concern that extended beyond the immediate danger. The worry was for her, for Kara, and as Kara soared back into the night sky, leaving Lena on the ground, the burden of keeping her identity hidden, of denying the depth of her feelings, felt like it could pull her down.

Kara cleared the rest of the guests off the rooftop swiftly and returned alone, hovering over it, scanning for the source of the explosion. To her surprise, there was none. It was as if the night had imploded onto itself, as if the air itself had ignited. The absence of a visible threat left Kara unsettled- this wasn't meant to cause any harm. A sense of foreboding washed over her as realization struck—this must have been some sort of diversion.

Panic gripped Kara's mind, and a single name echoed through her thoughts. There was only one person who would cause chaos at an L Corp event, and that meant one thing—Lena was in danger.

Racing back to where she left Lena, Kara found no-one there. In the place where Lena should have been waiting for her, a small white card had been placed on the ground.

Kara reached for the card, her hands trembling.

You are cordially invited to the Luthor family reunion.

The air became heavy with the worst kind of fear, and as Kara clenched the card in her trembling hands, a desperate scream threatened to escape her lips. Where did he take Lena?

--

At the DEO, Kara's anxiety echoed through the room as she paced, the worry etched on her face. Frustration, fear and desperation boiled within her.

"Why can't we find her?" She shouted, her anger bouncing around the room, shocking the agents around her.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Alex, a concerned look on her face,

"Lex is very good at hiding, Kara. We're doing the best we can. We will find her," she reassured, though the words did little to quell Kara's mounting panic.

Kara felt a surge of helplessness, a burning desire to do whatever it took to locate Lena, even if it meant tearing the whole world apart and yet all she could do was uselessly wait around for a lead.

Just as she approached a point of no return, Winn's voice called out,

"I think I have something," he announced, drawing everyone's attention. "I hijacked city cams and ran facial recognition. Traffic cameras picked up Lena's face outside an abandoned warehouse. There's someone with her."

Kara's heart skipped a beat, hope coursing through her veins.

"Where is it?" she demanded, desperation edging her voice.

As Winn relayed the address, Alex grabbed her arm,

"Wait, Kara. Let us prep a team to go with you. It's probably a trap. You can't go in alone."

Kara's resolve hardened, her gaze steely with determination.

"I don't care, Alex. It's Lena."

With those words hanging in the air, she broke free from Alex's grasp and bolted from the DEO, propelled by the determination to rescue the woman she couldn't live without.

--

Kara reached the warehouse and effortlessly tore through the heavy iron doors. Her determined advance faltered as she took in the scene before her—Lex Luthor, armed and wearing a manic smile, stood with a gun pointed at Lena who, to Kara's relief, looked unharmed. Kara couldn't bare to see the terrified look on Lena's face, but she knew that if she let herself give in to the fear, she would never get them out alive.

"Ah, Supergirl, you made it!" he grinned, reveling in the chaos. "Look, sister, our guest of honor has arrived. Now we can start."

Kara moved towards Lena, but before she could reach her, Lex grabbed Lena and pressed his gun to her head.

"Nuh uh, Supergirl," he tutted, "You don't want your best friend to get hurt, now do you?"

Kara felt a chill creeping over her as she stood paralyzed.

"What do you want?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady despite the panic surging through her, "Me? I'm here—let her go, Lex."

Lex laughed. "Oh, Supergirl. Where's the fun in that? Let you sacrifice yourself and be the hero again? No. No, this time we're going to play a little game."

He retrieved a button from his pocket, and the floor beneath Kara illuminated with the ominous glow of kryptonite.

"Supergirl, no," Lena shouted, trying to step forward, but Lex tightened his grip on her, and pressed the gun harder into her temple.

"One little push of this button will make that lead floor disappear, and one little pull on this trigger can end my dear sister's life. Okay? Do we understand the rules? Good, now that the stakes are set, let's play a little game of truth. No dare, just truth."

"Please, Lex," Kara begged, "Let her go."

"Oh, I will. If you play my game, Supergirl."

Kara closed her eyes, trying to calm her breathing. When she opened it again, she was resolved to do whatever it took to save Lena.

"Fine. Let's play."

"What a good sport," Lex taunted. "The game is simple. You tell the truth—you win. And there's only one question that we need to answer. Lena, who is Supergirl?"

Lena frowned, uncertainty clouding her features. "I don't know."

"Come, sister, you're smarter than that. Think carefully." Lex goaded, a malicious glint in his eyes.

Kara's heart pounded fiercely—this was Lex's plan. He knew. Somehow he knew, and he intended to use that knowledge to shatter the one thing she valued most in the world: her friendship with Lena.

"I. Don't. Know," Lena spoke through gritted teeth, her frustration evident. "Let her go, Lex. Let me go. There's no need for any of this."

"Oh, but there is," he replied, unyielding. "Okay, Supergirl—your turn. Answer truthfully now, or else I'll have to pull this trigger. Does Lena know you? The real you?"

Kara's gaze shifted to Lena, a silent plea in her eyes. She had to answer.

"Yes," she said softly, lifting her eyes to meet Lena's. Confusion etched Lena's face, and Kara's heart ached. Not like this.

Lex's smile widened, savoring the unfolding drama. "Okay, now we're getting somewhere. Lena, your turn again. Tell me, did Supergirl save your best friend today?"

Kara watched as anguish and panic filled Lena's eyes, the unspoken plea evident. "I don't know. Is Kara...? Is she okay?" The desperation in Lena's voice broke Kara's heart.

Before Kara could utter a word, Lex spoke, coercing Lena, "Come on, Lena. I know you're smarter than this."

He turned his gaze to Kara. "Tell her, Supergirl. Tell her about her best friend."

A sob escaped Lena's throat. "Oh god, please. Tell me she's okay. Tell me she's alive," Lena begged, and Kara felt her heart shatter.

"Tell her, Supergirl. The truth about her best friend."

Lex's words hung heavy in the air, and Kara knew exactly what he meant.

She looked into Lena's tear-filled eyes,

"Lena," she said, softly, "Lena, I—"

But before she could continue, she saw recognition dawn in Lena's eyes.

"No," Lena whispered, her voice trembling. "It's you? It has been you this whole time? Oh god, Kara, I thought you had—" Lena choked on a sob.

Kara remained silent, witnessing Lena's heartbreak unfold as the realization settled in.

"I'm sorry, Lena. I wanted to tell you so many times, but—"

"But you didn't," Lena's voice turned hard, the sense of betrayal evident. "Kara." She said her name like an accusation, and Kara wished she could vanish into the earth.

"I confided in you that everyone in my past had betrayed me. About how much it hurt to have someone you love lie to you and betray you, and you—" Lena's voice faltered, "You were playing me all along, Kara."

Kara felt her own tears fall. She had done the one thing she never wanted to do—she had hurt Lena.

"Lena, I was trying to protect you. Your family—"

"What?" Lena interrupted her, "You thought that you couldn't trust me because I'm a Luthor? Despite everything, Kara, you didn't trust me?"

"I would trust you with my life, Lena. I do trust you with my life. I just never wanted you to ever have to choose between me and your family! I didn't want to put you in that position."

Lex put the gun down, and Kara almost sagged in relief. "My work here is done," he smiled in satisfaction.

Then, surprising them both, he handed the kryptonite remote to Lena. "Take it, sister. I, at least, trust you to do the right thing. You'll always just be a Luthor to them."

When Kara saw Lena's fingers wrap around the remote, her heart shattered. Lex walked away, leaving them alone.

"Lena, please."

"What, Supergirl? Don't kill you? Isn't that what you would expect from a Luthor?" she spat.

"Lena, you're angry. I understand, but—"

"Oh god," Lena said, "You actually think I would hurt you?"

"Never," Kara said, "Lena, I'm—"

"You don't get it, do you, Kara? I would have chosen you. Over anyone. Over anything." She let the remote drop to the floor, the sound echoing through the empty warehouse.

"Lena," Kara whispered, her voice tinged with fear of the impending fallout.

The prospect that Lena might come to hate her felt more daunting than facing any physical threat. She would rather have Lena press that button than have to live with Lena hating her. Lena wasn't just a friend; she was the woman Kara loved, and the thought of losing her was unbearable. With everything on the line, Kara had to say it, to lay bare the truth that had been concealed for so long.

"Lena, I'm sorry. I know I should have told you sooner, about who I am, but please, please believe me. I was only trying to protect you. I didn't know how to tell you. You became my friend, and I thought it would be okay, that I could be Kara for you and still keep this hidden—keep you safe from it all. And then you became my best friend, and by then, I was too scared of losing you to tell you. And then—Rao, Lena, I fell in love with you, and it became too difficult to tell you. I was scared, and I didn't know how. I love you, and the thought of losing you—I knew that I wouldn't be able to breathe if I lost you. Lena, you are the single most important thing in the universe to me."

Lena fell to her knees, and Kara rushed to her, desperate to bridge the emotional chasm that had opened between them.

"I love you, Lena. I have loved you for a long time. Please, please forgive me."

"I want to hate you, but I can't," Lena whispered, her voice a fragile blend of hurt and conflict.

Despite it all, Lena pulled Kara into a fierce embrace, clutching onto her desperately. Kara tightened her grip around Lena, feeling Lena's silent tears seep into her shoulder.

Finally, Lena pushed Kara away, standing up, leaving them both to grapple with the emotional turmoil that hung heavy in the air. Kara rose to her feet, and they faced each other, the tension between them casting a daunting shadow.

"What now?" Kara asked, her voice soft, the fear of Lena's response palpable.

Lena met her gaze intensely, and Kara detected a flicker of conflict in Lena's eyes. It was as if the turmoil within Lena was written in the air between them, as if she was wrestling with a decision.

Then, without warning, Lena pulled Kara in, crashing her lips against hers with a desperate urgency. Kara, initially stunned, quickly melted into the kiss, mirroring Lena's desperation. She could taste the saltiness of Lena's tears on her lips, the kiss carrying a weight as if their very lives depended on it, as if Lena held Kara's breath captive. The world around Kara dissolved, leaving only Lena—her lips, her hands. Lena became the singular reality that mattered to Kara, the only thing tethering her to this world.

Finally, they pulled apart, foreheads pressed together, both breathing heavily.

"I'm hurt," Lena whispered, her voice laden with vulnerability. "You hurt me, Kara. But I can't imagine being without you. I love you."

Kara's heart clenched at Lena's words.

And as their lips met again, Kara vowed to spend the rest of her life trying to make it up to Lena. She would never hurt her again.

[sciencewife]

Current longfic Carolines in a nutshell.

TLG Caroline from The Long Game by @silverstreams

SC Caroline from Schrödinger’s Cave by me

Oleander Caroline from Oleander by @xebecdav

YOS Caroline from Years of Science by @the-dangerous-mute-lunatic

(Art credit under the cut)

SC Caroline drawn by me, Oleander Caroline drawn by @xebecdav, YOS Caroline and TLG Caroline drawn by @the-dangerous-mute-lunatic

[luthordamnvers]

Hell was the journey (but it brought me heaven)

Chapter 9 - Cottage

"I hope you don't mind that I brought us here.” Kara mumbled with a breath of relief when Lena finally woke up, opening her gorgeous green-blue eyes. “We kept saying we would come and something always came up.“ Kara smiled, and then clarified, “We are in the cottage your mom left you." Kara kissed Lena’s hand, clutched in hers. "I needed to get you out of the city. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you. I think I would tear this world apart." “What happened?” Lena groggily questioned.  “He put a bomb in your car,” Kara explained in a low voice. And before Lena could ask, she added, “I got Frank out, remember? He’s okay, nothing but a few scratches, nothing to worry about. You lost consciousness after the blast, we were too close to it. Alex ordered an entire retreat. Everyone is in a safe house. Except for J’onn and Brainy.” Lena covered her face with her free hand, a thoughtful, yet miserable expression on her face, “How long was I out?” “You woke up after the ordeal pretty soon. Alex looked you over and decided to sedate you so you would rest. That was a little over 16 hours ago.”  “So, you decided to fly me to Ireland?” Lena asked, and Kara could tell she was trying to lighten up the mood. “No, I couldn’t fly with unconscious, precious cargo, over the Atlantic.” She replied, trying to smile. She kissed Lena’s knuckles and continued, “I was a little too on edge for that. I used the portal watch.” “My knight in shining armor…” Lena teased in a mumble. “This is my fault.” Kara confessed, in an equally low voice.  “I don’t think it is, Kara. It was me who antagonized John Kiley.” Lena didn’t even try to sit down, which made Kara worry a bit, because she knew how stubborn her girlfriend was. “Maybe you should have let the shooter hit the target.” “Don’t joke about that…” Kara said between gritted teeth. “It’s not funny. I put you in this situation too, and I don’t know how to protect you. How to protect our family.”

Continue Reading on AO3 || From the start

[writingmochi]

i only said | a visualizer and a teaser

cast: soobin ✗ fem.reader

synopsis: as you stood on the crowded train while making eye contact with the boy from the neighboring school. light shines into the dim train car as it becomes empty and filled with sand. approaching you is a humanoid figure, who calls you the king and queen of viliya—the island kingdom that is plagued with nightmares that haunt its people which you and the boy are also not immune to

genre: two lost souls find comfort, silent lovers, magical realism, meet ugly, hurt/comfort, adventure, thriller, coming of age, romance, high school au (both are 19 and in senior year), late 2010s au, modern royalty au, angst, fluff, mature content (phobias, trauma, war, explicit smut)

inspired by: music my bloody valentine's "i only said" (1991), txt's 2019-2020 star seekers music videos ("nap of the star", "magic island", "eternally"), and movies bridge to terabithia (2007) and tigers are not afraid (2017)

word count: 361 (teaser)

release: will not write so i can shock you ;) but it's going to be in 2024

message from the moon: i've been noticing a drought of epic and fantastical txt fics lately. so, i'm gonna do it myself :]

p.s. yes, late 2010s are already nostalgic enough that it can be its own au with its own style and tech

part of the loveless anthology

you always experience something weird when the train is nearing cheongdam. it is as if your senses are being attacked in a sweep when goosebumps form in a wave before it calms down. then it starts again as the train approaches the outdoor part of its journey to cross the body of water. the lights inside start to flicker as you see outside to view the han river from under the bridge, yet sometimes, it's not a river, but a beach.

the sky is the clear turquoise blue that reflects the seawater. the view of the river bank turns into sand that's lining the barrier of land and sea. you could sometimes hear the sound of crashing waves from it even if you only see the setting sky as it changes from day to night. though now, that turquoise sky is getting darker and darker, even darker than the sunset you usually see when you cross on the hanging tracks from the cheongdam bridge to ttukseom park.

then you see it: the visions.

quick timelapse of the neon street, crumbling buildings crashing down as their support couldn't hold on, humanoid beings who can fly as they attacked something dark. only the color orange highlights everything before you see flickers of a woman with long platinum blonde locks and white dress, calling out your name as your eyes are trying to focus on her heterochromia ones.

you've always held onto the nearest surface as you glance at the dots turning red between cheongdam and ttukseom park stations, breathing in and out as you felt your palm getting sweatier when you felt the whole compartment seemed to shake more and more as you approached the bridge and let the light from outside coming in. recently, the shakiness is getting rougher and the vision more frequent. but, you've always try to comfort yourself and see the boy across from you if he is okay.

because it seems like you're not the only one to notice all the things you've experienced, especially when you see him mumbling whilst staring at the red dots lighting up on top of the door when the train approaches the bridge.

taglist: @raeyunshm @leilasmom @evidive @boba-beom @kwiwin @heesw1fe @aloverga @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @blurryriki @amazzwon @stayzentiny @rebsmoonn @angelbythewindow @ttyunz @itzzz-yerin @shinrjj

© writingmochi on tumblr, 2021-2024. all rights reserved

[frouponical]

2. Art inspired by @kanronotatsu's There's things I want to say to you (but I'll just let you live) ( 1 | 3 | 4 )

[farm-witches-fic-recs]

Do you by chance have a list of fics where Patrick comes out to his parents earlier or in a different way? Or maybe they find out before he tells them. Not AUs, looking for more canon divergent. I've read A LOT of them, but I'm sure I've missed some along the way. Thanks!

Hello there!

We'd love to share some canon divergent coming out stories with you. Check these out:

by omission - @blueink3

Calls from Marcy - @goodiecornbread

Good People - @trueillusion82

If We Stop Keeping a Secret - loveisallyouneed21

It’s My (Christmas) Party and I’ll Panic if I Want To - @delilah-mcmuffin

Life Is A Secret - Iloveacting12

Lock it up - @lizzie-bennetdarcy

Merry Christmas, Patrick Brewer - @treluna4

My Heartbeat Shows the Fear - @unfolded73

Over The River - @flowerfan2

Surprised - @delilah-mcmuffin

The Things We Don't Speak Aloud - @unfolded73

Where Words Fail - houdini74 ( @mostlyinthemorning) your mother should know - @grapehyasynth

[chevroletdean]

you always meet twice ── ✮⋆˙🥃📞

pairing: dean x gn!reader genre: fluff, dash of angst if you squint to note/warnings: set around season 10, mentions of the mark of cain, dean being a grumpy old man, cute first meetings, miscommunication word count: 2.8k

a/n: this is random, i just wanted to write more fluff, since you guys were so nice about the last one. thank you again, i didn't expect so much positive feedback!

He swore that that giggle of yours could soften a demon’s black heart. He should know, having been one himself not too long ago.

You flashed him one last mesmerizing smile and slid something across the counter before you turned around and left the bar. His eyes lingered on you until you were through the door and out of sight. Only then did he dare to glance down towards your little goodbye gift, which he swiftly grabbed and carried back to Sam’s booth.

“Seriously?” Sam scoffed, the crooked grin on his lips reflecting a mixture of disbelief and belittling. “What is this, the 2000s?”

None of that seemed to bother his older brother, who was all toothy, boyish grin and lit up eyes as he proudly flaunted the napkin in front of Sam’s nose. Numbers were scribbled on it in black ink, clearly a phone number.

Was it a little old-fashioned? Maybe, but didn’t that make it all the more charming? Dean certainly seemed to think so and even though it must’ve been about 10 years or so ago since he last had anyone write their number down for him like this, he thought he deserved a sliver of joy.

“They even wrote ‘xoxo’ next to it, dude,” Dean boasted. “What’s that mean again, love and hearts or whatever?”

“Hugs and kisses, Dean. It means hugs and kisses,” Sam corrected him with a sigh. His brother was a lost cause.

The little symbols were about as cheesy as the act of the whole number on a napkin thing and Dean was eating it up with a giddiness that could only be matched by a lovesick teenager. You’d think after about two decades of acting like a flirtatious heartthrob, he’d either mature or be harder to impress.

“Either way,” Dean beamed proudly, “I’m still in the game.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up, but he refrained from any witty remarks and settled for a snort instead. It’s been a while since he’s seen Dean’s lips curled upwards – after a couple of rough weeks and many setbacks, it was good to see him smile again.

He’s been to hell and back, literally and figuratively, and after all the worrying about the Mark of Cain, recovering from being a literal demon, and the usual apocalyptic sense of dread, who was Sam to deny him his fun?

Turns out he’d have his little moment ruined hours later anyway, and not even by Sam or any of his teasing comments.

He must’ve slept horribly or maybe the lack of leads in this case was starting to frustrate him.

It was unclear what exactly caused the switch to flip, but the grin from last evening that had reached from one ear to another was nowhere to be seen anymore. Ever since they left the motel and drove into town, he was back to his grumpy self.

Sam nearly flinched as Dean slammed the door of the Impala shut a little harsher than necessary. Dean’s brows were furrowed in frustration as he practically stomped into the diner. His little brother followed suit, barely making it through the door while it was still open. They took a seat and ordered some breakfast.

Despite knowing he wouldn’t get an explanation, Sam tried anyway.

“What’s up with you today?”

Dean shot him a glare that not only signaled he’d refuse to answer, but could also suffice for straight up daggers. He took a demonstratively large gulp of his coffee. “Can we just focus on the case, Sammy?”

Focus on the case was rarely what Dean wanted to do, not when he had a potential fling going on anyway. Which could only mean one thing.

“No luck with your napkin sweetheart?” Sam teased, seemingly hitting a sore spot as Dean slammed the coffee cup back onto the table with a clatter.

“The case, Sam,” he repeated insistently.

Right on the money then. What else would rile him up into such an irritable mood?

Giving in — albeit he did a terrible job at concealing a gloating grin —, Sam booted up his laptop and went through the files. It was all pretty straightforward: Bunch of people went missing over the past few days, one of their bodies having turned up with their blood drained. Vampires, likely, though Sam and Dean had yet to find the nest or talk to anyone in relation to the victims.

“There’s this one college student that went missing two days ago, usually never misses a class or a shift at their part-time-job,” Sam spoke and turned the laptop around for Dean to look at the missing person alert. “We could split up, talk to one of their professors and a coworker.”

“Fabulous,” Dean grumbled, using his fork to stab holes into his slice of pie. His mind was clearly elsewhere. Presumably on a certain someone he had met last night – and was stood up by, apparently.

“Seriously, what happened?” Sam half-groaned, half-grinned. There was some genuine concern in his voice. Even if the situation was kind of amusing – it didn’t happen often that someone was able to humble Dean like this –, he knew his brother was on edge already.

Anger and bottling up feelings were always his specialty, but with the Mark of Cain still attached to his arm, they should probably not risk any major stress.

Dean grumbled something inaudible, half of his words swallowed by the coffee cup, the rim of which was pressed against his lips. Sam only thought he heard something along the lines of ‘wrong number’ and gave a confused “What was that?” in response.

“Whatever,” Dean groaned. “Any contacts, an address?”

Sam nodded and told him the address of the coworker. With Dean’s shitty mood, he’d rather not bring him to campus to scare away any freshmen. So, they separated for the time being, Sam heading to the university while Dean made his way to that address downtown.

On his way there, he fished for his phone again. And the napkin.

He had tried to dial the number earlier this morning and (much to his obvious dismay) the call had not gone through. He typed it in again, number for number, double-checking each digit individually. Maybe he had somehow gotten it mixed up in his half sleepy state earlier?

‘The number you have called is not available. Please check the number and dial again. The number you have called is n–’

Dean definitely didn’t get it wrong, comparing the number on his screen and the napkin again.

With a scoff, he shoved his phone back into his pocket, exchanging it for his F.B.I. badge instead. Grumbling to himself, his feet dragged him past a picket fence – each step heavy-footed – and up a porch, where he rang the doorbell.

As for why you’d trick him like that by giving him a wrong number, was beyond him. You could’ve just said no when he asked for your contacts, so why go through the hassle to be this mean about a rejection?

Unless he somehow had made you uncomfortable last night, although he could not for the love of it remember anything but your bright smile throughout the whole conversation. In fact, you had eagerly nodded when he offered to buy you another drink.

The soft creaking of the door disrupted his thoughts. By default habit, he already held up his badge, deciding to focus on the task at hand. Sam would be giving him a handful if he got too distracted during a case.

“Special Agent Murray, could I–?”

His introduction died on his tongue as his gaze fell upon a dazzling and oddly familiar smile. A heartbeat later and said smile vanished from those lips, which then twisted into a surprised O-shape.

“I don’t remember writing my address down,” you chuckled. Nervously. But not the kind of nervousness he would’ve expected from someone who had practically dumped him in the shittiest way possible.

The quip itself was somehow unfitting, considering those circumstances.

Who knew the coworker of the victim would be you, of all people, in a rather big town like this?

“Special Agent, huh?” Your smile was back on your lips, the intrigued spark in your eyes resembling that of last evening, and confusing him only further. “Am I in trouble, did I commit a crime?”

If handing out false numbers was a crime—

Dean cleared his throat and averted his gaze. He briefly fidgeted around with his badge, struggling to put it away again. Maybe that extra cup of coffee at the diner earlier was a mistake. As if it wasn’t already awkward enough. He wasn’t keen on making a fool out of himself further, so he decided to get this job over with as quickly as possible.

“I have a few questions about Daniel Anderson,” he said, tone dry as bone and honestly, rather hostile. “I take it you are his coworker?”

You blinked up at him, your smile fading once more. It was almost as if you were half-intimidated by his grumpy demeanor, but did you really expect a warm reunion?

“Uhm, yeah,” you mumbled, almost meekly, and opened the door further, stepping aside to make room for him. “Come on in, please. Would you like some coffee?”

Dean was led to the living room, where you gestured towards the seating options – a small couch and an armchair. Even though he just had about a gallon of it, he accepted your offer and settled on the couch.

While you were busy in the kitchen, he glanced around the room. A small but cozy living space and a pair of shoes kicked into the corner of the entrance that he definitely recognized. So you weren’t some lost twin of last night’s encounter.

“Excuse the mess,” you chuckled shyly, again with a warmth that exceeded his expectations. “I mean, you know how it is, I got home pretty late last night and have not had the chance to clean up yet.”

How come you were able to brush off this palpable tension with such ease? He was practically dying on the inside here while you, without hesitation, sat down next to him instead of the armchair and handed him the cup of coffee.

Dean once again cleared his throat, taking a sip of your coffee – as if somehow the caffeine could counteract his nerves instead of fray them further.

“About Mr. Anderson,” he began, clearly not wanting to dive into the topic of last night. If he didn’t know it any better, he swore he could see a flicker of disappointment in your eyes.

Your answers to his questions matched what Sam already found out. Your coworker was last seen coming to work three days ago, punctual as always, then wasn’t seen again. Apparently he had been the last to leave the office, which wasn’t unusual, since he’d often work overtime. A diligent guy, from the sounds of it, despite working only minimum wage and managing his studies at the same time.

“I thought I haven’t seen you around town before,” you hummed, eyeing him up and down briefly in a way that made him feel naked despite his suit. “No wonder, if you’re a federal agent working a case here. I gotta say, you can pull off a tie just as much as the flannel.”

That caught Dean off guard for several reasons. One being the fact that you were even more assertive when sober, apparently. The more obvious one, however, remained your previous rejection of course. He could not wrap his head around the concept of you flirting with him now.

You in no way looked anything remotely guilt ridden or embarrassed. If anything, your responses to his gruff attitude were mellow in fashion. And you still subtly brushed your knee against his despite everything. Were you messing with him?

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” you mumbled, hesitant for the first time today. “You can show up at my doorstep, but you can’t give me a call?”

Huh?

His widened eyes and the deadpan silence in the room seemed to go straight over your head.

“Well, I guess you’re busy with work,” you sighed with a crooked grin on your lips. “You should’ve told me, giving a special agent your number is kind of embarrassing.”

That was your problem, his line of work? Well, in that regard, he couldn’t be too hypocritical. He was as much of a special agent as your number was real, after all. Still, he was done with your games.

“I did give you a call,” Dean huffed. “Or tried to anyway, but you already figured that, I bet.”

Now it was your time to look all puzzled, at least until Dean pulled out phone and pocket. He dialed your number and put his phone on speaker. If in some twisted joke the third time would be the charm now, he’d feel really stupid.

But as expected, the error announcement came through the speaker once more: ‘The number you have called is not available. Please check the number and dial again.’

The color drained from your face first, before a redness crept up your neck. Your gaze flickered back and forth between Dean’s phone and his glare.

Then you burst out into laughter. Your cheeks were flushed in a bright pink while you hastily scrambled to find your own phone.

“You think this is funny, sweetheart?” Dean sighed, damn near pouting.

You didn’t reply, just snatched the napkin out of his hands. Your fingers were warm against his, since you had them wrapped around your own coffee mug moments earlier.

“Double-awkward, I gave a special agent the wrong number, oops,” you giggled and facepalmed.

Oops?

Dean was about to retort something, clearly unappreciative of the way you were still trying to make up excuses.

But you remained unfazed. More than unfazed: You reached out to his lapel, those warm fingers of yours wrapping around the pen in his chest pocket. All he could do was stay frozen in place as you crossed out the last two digits on the napkin and rewrote them above – in reverse order.

“You switched them up,” he mumbled, more of a realization than a question.

“I get clumsy when I’m nervous,” you smiled softly, rubbing the back of your neck and nodding apologetically.

You did not fail to notice how Dean’s eyes lit up again. That scowl, the harsh line on his forehead, they melted away. Some of that boyish, cheeky grin replaced his gruff facade.

“Nervous,” he echoed and his smug smirk confirmed his returned confidence. He had made you nervous last evening, huh?

“What did you think I needed that second whiskey sour for,” you giggled with that gentle edge that turned his heart into mush.

He knew right away that he wanted to see you like this more often, flustered, because of him no less. Enough to give you trouble thinking straight.

“How about you run a test-call, just to make sure I didn’t mix it up again,” you suggested.

It took him a solid three or so seconds to process your words and then he flinched, fumbling around with his inner pockets in too obvious of a desperation. Once again, he cleared his throat, realizing this must’ve been the dozenth time or so you got him this flustered. You really knew how to keep someone on their toes, whether it was on purpose or not, huh?

Dean dialed the updated number and surely enough, the buzzing vibration of your phone eased his anxiety once and for all.

“And here I was, thinking you were trying to mess with me,” he laughed breathlessly, to which your smile softened into a pout. Clearly you weren’t fond of the idea of upsetting him in this manner.

At least for a split second, before it widened into a mischievous smirk.

“I don’t know if that would go against the law,” you hummed teasingly, “But I’m an upstanding citizen and if you were to arrest me, I’d hope it would be under different circumstances.���

With that and a wink, you took the empty cups from the coffee table and made your way to the kitchen again. Like last night, Dean was left letting his gaze follow you until you weren’t to be seen anymore. As he snapped out of it, he stood up and headed towards the entrance.

“Call me if you hear anything from Daniel,” you smiled at him as you hurried to open the door for him. “Or, you know, in general.”

Dean chuckled briefly, the first time he’s laughed properly today, and gave you a nod. On his way out, he practically skipped his steps down the porch, to which you couldn’t help but grin.

By the time Dean met up with Sam again, he was humming happily to himself. Sam raised an eyebrow at his sunshine-giddy brother, scanning him up and down.

“What happened to you?”

“I’m still in the game, Sammy.”

links/credits: ao3 ──〃★ dividers ──〃★ request here taglist: comment with a green heart 💚if you want to be added to the dean x reader taglist from now on

[stargazer56]

Tidbit Tuesday

Thank you @ramonaflow and @a-noble-dragon for tagging me for seven sentences Sunday. We were away for the weekend, so I guess this is Tidbit Tuesday now! Here are more sentences from my 5+1 cooking fic which is fully written and being edited now. Hopefully posting to Ao3 this week if life cooperates!

David stands rooted in the doorway, a look of disbelief on his face. Patrick grabs him by the hand, leads him to the table and pulls out his chair, getting David settled before taking his own seat. “Patrick…” David’s voice trails off, as tears pool in the corners of his eyes. “How?” “I wanted to do something nice for you, David. To show you how much I love you, how I appreciate you and how I hang on every word you say,” he says the last line with a wink and is overjoyed when David laughs softly. “I think I’ve recreated all your favorite Japanese dishes. Seaweed salad, gyoza and tonkatsu for our dinner.” “And for dessert?” “You and me naked, enjoying this privacy.”

Tagging a few friends in case they have anything to share! @jamilas-pen @tyfinn @mammameesh @characterassassination-at-9am @filet-o-feelings

[scfrozenover]

Schitt's Creek Frozen Over Fest 2024

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Hello, frans! Put your toques on and grab your Christmas gourd because we are back and ready for some festive fandom merriment! Prompting will begin tomorrow at Noon EST!

Frozen Over is a prompt fest (not an exchange) for Schitt’s Creek fanworks inspired by that time of year when the creek is frozen over. All types of AO3-supported fanworks are welcome!

Important Dates: (all times Eastern)

Prompts Submitted: November 9 - November 23, noon

Claiming Prompts: November 23 - January 10 (please note that any claims made prior to noon EST on November 23 will be removed to give everyone a fair shot!)

Posting Deadline: January 10 at 11:59pm

Fanworks Released: Daily at noon beginning January 17

Creators Revealed: One week from the last day of releases

How to Participate:

I want to participate as a writer! Awesome! Once the collection opens for prompting on November 9, leave all the prompts that your heart desires, then come back after noon on November 23 or later to claim the prompts you want to fill. We will have catch-all prompts, too, if you want to work from a separate, original idea.

I want to participate as a podficcer or a fanartist! Yay! We love this journey for you. Message us here on tumblr and, if possible, we'll connect you with a writer! We will have catch-all prompts, too, if you want to submit your own original fanart or podfic of an existing winter-themed fic.

Wait – I'm a writer, and I'd love to have a podfic or fanart created to go with my Frozen Over 2024 work! Cool! Send us a message and, if possible, we'll connect you with a podficcer and/or artist!

Can I leave prompts even if I'm not contributing to the fest myself? Yes! But we'd love it if you considered contributing, too! (No pressure, of course.)

Questions? Reach us on Tumblr @scfrozenover (Asks are open!)

[mostlyinthemorning]

We did it! Our little fandom turned 10,000 today!

[luthordamnvers]

Hell was the journey (but it brought me heaven)

Chapter 10 - Magic

Kara wasn’t entirely sure about Lena’s plan. She trusted her girlfriend, of course, she had saved Kara and the world several times. She just wasn’t sure if this plan would work. She looked as Lena explained her entire strategy to J’onn and Brainy because they were crucial to actually pulling the entire thing off. Or so Lena had tried to explain to Kara earlier.  Kara had no doubts about Lena’s proficiency with science, but her magic was fickle and new, and tied to emotions, though she had improved so much in the few months since discovering her powers. But at the present, emotions were all over the place.  She looked at her girlfriend, who was typing something on her tablet, while quietly talking with Brainy, who kept rubbing his chin in deep thought. “It could work, my calculations are… positive.” He declared after a few minutes. Kara frowned, there was usually a number attached to Brainy’s calculations. “What’s the projected percentage of success?” Kara couldn’t help herself but ask aloud. He shared a look with Lena before answering. “43.7%, if I’m optimistic.” “Brainy, that’s…” Kara started, but Lena didn’t let her continue. “That’s plenty over it definitely not working. It’s enough to give hope, and my girlfriend, it’s all about hope, isn’t she?” Lena smiled.  And Rao, Kara really wanted to say yes, to believe Lena’s positivism, and have faith in Brainy’s 43.7%. “The alternative is doing nothing, Kara,” the Coluan observed. “Just deal with it. But I know you enough to know you will do whatever it takes to fix the problem. We lose nothing by trying.” “We will fix this, darling. Whatever it takes.” Lena then passed her a notepad and a pen. “For now I need you to make a list of all the people who knew your identity before this… controversy.”

Continue Reading on AO3 || From the start

[Completed]

[wordthieve]

Coming soon ...

[frouponical]

WIP for this fanfic this time !