#happy and he was right it doesn't work with her and he just loves her so fucking much it makes me dizzy and a little nauseous !

[f1cflcfic]

The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris)

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy". note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons. Also, this story is angsty with a happy ending - it does not contain any smut or suggestive themes. [A/N: This is my first SMAU and hooooooly shit did I totally underestimate how much work it is, and how things work within Tumblr to make it look alright. If you have any tips, let me know lol. I had to split it up in pieces, but i've got all the content written out already, so will be updated soon with the next part!]

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December, 2025

February, 2026

[Excerpt from red carpet interview at the Grammy's with Y/N]

How are you feeling tonight? You're up for 3 awards, one of them Album of the Year for All I Ever Needed - that's huge!

"It's so overwhelming, to be honest."

Even when you've gone through this experience before? This is your fourth time attending, second time as nominee.

"Yeah, maybe even more so! It's a great chance to hang out with friends and meet new people, but it's also really prestigious still. Being nominated - I try to act like it doesn't matter, because awards always involve politics too - but at the end of the day, you do want it."

And who're you most looking forward to seeing tonight?

"Honestly? I came alone tonight, so I can't wait to find Sabrina [Carpenter] and Jade. I'm gonna need my girls."

Your friend Miley is also up for an award tonight in the same category, what's that like?

"Ha, if the Grammy's do the right thing tonight she'll win it - I know I voted for her!"

You'll also be performing one of your songs - Ruin My Life, can you tell us a bit about what to expect?

"I really wanted this to be visually interesting, but it took me a while to get the right concept for it. I think it's because to me this album and song already feel sort of far removed, and lived in? I'm in a different phase of my life right now, so I had to find a new way to still connet to it. I was really grateful to work with a great art director to bring a different version to the stage."

March, 2026

July, 2026

[SkyNews excerpt]

Lando Norris wins Silverstone GP, dedicates his 20th podium win to his family

The man of the hour is none other than Lando Norris, who’s just gone on to claim his 20th victory at his home race. You’re reading that right, his home race! While he still owns his apartment in Monaco, Norris revealed today that he’s been living back in England for the past few months. “I just wasn’t in the right headspace anymore and wanted to live closer to my family. Especially now that my brother’s kids are growing up, I just like knowing I could drive over – rather than having to fly across countries.”

Speaking on the importance of his family being present, Norris shared that it means everything to him. “In this sport you need to have skill, talent, trust and investment from your team, but also you need that stable sense of safety from the people you love. If your mindset isn’t there, you can’t be competitive.”

Norris has been vocal about mental health in the past, and has advocated for more access to mental healthcare facilities and professionals across motorsport.

“Especially in tougher years where there’s just a lot of noise and turmoil, it’s nice to have a professional coach you to mental fitness as well.”

It was the only notable reference to Norris’ private life, which ended on a low note last year after splitting from long-time girlfriend y/n l/n. The two were originally thought to have had an amicable split, but recent reports hint at a different story, with Norris unfollowing his ex and her friends unfollowing him in return.

August, 2026

September, 2026

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Part two following soon! likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

[will80sbyers]

Mileven is endgame, proof (let's see if you dare to respond):

1- Mike was scared of losing Eleven, that's why he made that face at the end of s3, he is so in love he cant even handle it!

2- Mike tried to help el when she got bullied and went looking for her, until you know who decided to make that moment about him. When El hit Angela, he was in shock, but the next day he tried to apologize empatizing with her and forgave he for lying inmediatly

I do think Mike likes Will, but he is in love with Eleven and that is a fact

Be honest are you a Byler pretending to be a mileven?

Because even for a mlvn there's no coherent train of thought here in any way so I hope it's someone saying random shit lol it's actually a trainwreck of "logic" from start to finish to the point that it's funny

Baby, if Mike "likes Will" then byler is endgame 100% because writers don't write bisexual characters or make a character like another if they don't intend to do anything with it, if you think in any capacity that Mike is bisexual then mileven is done lol

1) You're right, Mike is scared of losing El from his life, that's why he's still clinging to her even if the relationship is not good for them anymore... and I don't think he has realized his feelings for Will consciously yet, he's still trying to repress them, in the season 3 finale the reason he makes that face after the kiss is because he's shocked and they wanted to replicate the kiss in the IT saga between Bill and Beverly, note that they have also made a OBVIOUS parallel between byler and benverly...which will both be endgame 🌈❤️🤗

If you were talking about this shot right here

this is because he also has feelings for Will and it's directly connected to Will because that's his house and we had another shot before of Mike looking at the cars go away so they didn't need to repeat a shot of Mike like that, it wouldn't make sense if it was for Eleven, it's pretty obvious Byler is being constructed and mileven is being destroyed and it's been a few seasons of this...

They even made him find her choice of breakfast weird for literally no reason at all except focusing on how much they aren't really that much compatible as a couple

+ not liking her milkshake, not liking skating, not liking the pizza with pineapple, dressing up in a completely different style only because he feels so insecure with her that he feels like he needs to pretend to be cooler than who he really is and being with her makes him feel like he has to be in the "boyfriend role" instead of being just Mike... like El feels like she had to lie for months about her whole life just because she felt like Mike wouldn't love her if she wasn't normal enough... They don't understand each other fundamentally anymore and it's okay, you grow and you change and relationships stop working sometimes!

2) At rink o mania MIKE is the one that starts their argument taking away the focus from finding Eleven... just because he's pissed that Will wasn't acting happy that he was there being a 3rd wheel for their date... And Will clocked that and asked him to explain himself lmfao

Mike doesn't know what true love is yet... exactly like Laurie from Little Women didn't know shit about true love and was idealizing Jo

Mike is doing the same to El because he's a 14yo kid... He'll understand as he grows up 😚

[zepskies]

Aww yay!! I'm so happy to hear that. 🥹💗

so far what I love the most about this series-verse is how, authentic and genuine dean and mila’s relationship is <3 I think maybe I mentioned it when reviewing THC but truly their love feels so sincere 🤍🤍

Omg thank you!! What an amazing compliment, and now I'm blushing. 🥰🥰 With everything these two went through in THC, I wanted their connection to feel real and natural now as they continue learning each other.

I feel like in today’s day & age relationships can be so complicated because there are too many trivial outside factors, but for them in this universe, it’s really just as simple as two people who care a lot for each other making it work. and i absolutely love that 😭💗

Oh God yes, totally agree. 🙃 And there are complications around Mila and Dean, but when it's just the two of them, Dean gets her to remember that them choosing to be together can be as simple or complicated as they allow it to be. It's a choice, day by day, working together. 💕💕

they’re so sweet to each other :’)🫶🏽 even when he puts his foot in his mouth; as soon as he made that comment when learning about the chief I shook my head lol, oh dean 😂

Ahaha he's trying his best. Oh Dean. 😝

But he's so damn charming and adorable, she can't help but let him back into her good graces.

mystery dude better back up!🤺 I do not trust that man at all so far, he gave me such a bad vibe :/ for his sake he better not try anything because not only will dean protect his wife, mila is clearly not to be messed with 🤣 which brings me back to how much I admire her strength! I love that she will speak up for what matters.

He's being sneaky about it, isn't he? 😒 But YES, if Mila doesn't mess him up first, Dean definitely will. 💞 Mila's not one to take things sitting down either.

the thought of dean getting picked on makes me so sad because it’s like, classic bullying :((( I wanna hug him so bad. especially since it’s already been so hard leaving everything and everyone he had behind — the weight of hazing & hard judgement on top of adjusting to everything new must be draining :( honestly I admire his strength too i’m glad she’s providing him with the support he deserves 🫶🏽 because yeah even though he can handle it, he shouldn’t have to ✋🏽😔

Ikr? 😭😭 Dean doesn't deserve this at all, considering how hard he's working to be respectful to their customs, but it's kind of par for the course (he's honestly lucky they let him live). It will get better for him (eventually), but you're right, it is draining for him, even if he doesn't want to admit it to Mila. She's doing her best to be his support system. 💞

also, I did not expect baby x mato but you know what, i’m here for it 😭🙂‍↕️

omgg I was hoping someone would like that part. 😂😂 I honestly didn't plan it when I was writing THC, but it came out when I started developing Outlander. I thought it was a cute lil' tidbit, and it's actually going to play more into the plot later. 😉💗

I'm so excited for you guys to see what's coming for this little series!!

Outlander - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC 

Summary: Dean Winchester has been stripped of his military rank, but he’s living happier with his new wife, trying to adjust to a new life in her tribe. What will it take for her people to accept him, especially when the battle for her heart might not be completely won? 

AN: Ready for some more Cowboy Dean? Here we go with Outlander Part 1! This is a sequel story directly following The Honorable Choice, where Dean not only saves the member of a Native American tribe, but falls in love with her. (She saves him a lot in return.) Now, he’ll have to learn how to live in her world if he wants to stay with her.

This sequel series will be 4 parts! 💜

Disclaimer: I first got inspired to write The Honorable Choice for @jacklesversebingo after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (with a tinge of Yellowstone in the mix). I’ve done a fair bit of research for this now ongoing series, both on the Native American Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s; AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Word Count: 5.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Suggestiveness/implied smut and spice, hunting (in the more traditional sense), angst, hurt/comfort, and romantic fluff. **Pronunciation guide at the end!

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: Two Worlds

Her people call this river Little Cheyenne. It’s because Big Cheyenne cuts through the land of the Sioux Indians by half, but Little Cheyenne almost meets it in the south, stretching all the way up to the Black Hills.

Mila’s tribe has always lived near this river. Its waters have bled red during battles with other tribes, and sometimes during battles with White Men.

The White Men’s fort, the one her husband came from, lies farther down in the south. The tribe had to move their village higher north along the river after Mila returned with Dean Winchester, just to be safe.

On a cloudy afternoon, Mila scrubs at a bundle of dirty clothes until they’re clean. She rinses them off in the river and is thorough about her work, but she knows she can’t be here much longer. She has a stew simmering on hot coals in her tipi…

Well, the one she now shares with her husband.

Unconsciously, she smiles. She remembers leading Dean through the tribe, to the place where she hoped he would find rest. They stopped at the foot of her tipi. 

“This one’s yours?” he asked.

She paused, giving him another small smile. 

“Ours.”

Mila continues scrubbing, though she frowns when her fingers slip through a tear in one of the new tunics she made for him (even though he keeps calling it a shirt). The tear was made by a blade, or maybe an arrowhead, she realizes. 

The crunch of feet on the riverbed’s gravel makes her raise her head and look over her shoulder. Unease prickles down her spine. She braces herself for a familiar shadow, come to disturb her peace.    

But then she relaxes. She’s being joined by two of the older women in her tribe. Mila has known them her whole life, and so she calls them tunwin. Aunt. They both greet her kindly and kneel beside her with their own bundles of clothes for washing, but Eyota, the older one, has a sharper eye. She is their tribe’s medicine woman. 

“Your husband wears out his clothes,” she remarks.

“He’s been working hard training with Šóta and the other men,” Mila explains.

“He seems to be learning quickly,” says Misae. She has a more playful glint in her eyes. “Who knew that you could catch and tame a White Man. Looks like they are no different from wild horses.”

Mila smiles slightly, but it’s not genuine. She nods in agreement. “He’s learning quickly.”

She holds her tongue from saying anything else, even though she wants to. Dean isn’t a man to be tamed, any more than she was, in his people’s eyes. She aims to change the subject. 

“Do you have any good herbs or spices for wahonpi? I’ve had the stew simmering all morning,” she asks Eyota. Not only is she a gifted healer, but Eyota is also one of the best cooks, and she knows it. She nods and straightens her shoulders the way she always does when someone asks her for advice—and even when they don’t ask for it.

“Of course, child. What you need is…”

“Goddamn it,” Dean huffs under his breath.

The jackrabbit flees from him again, or more accurately, from his terribly aimed arrow. He’s an excellent marksman…just not with a bow, it seems.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong here, and he’s not likely to figure it out. Not by the way Takoda, Šóta, and the other men are laughing at him.

Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes. He knows when he’s being hazed.

These men are bare-chested warriors, each of them richly tanned under the sun. Most of them wear their hair long, half of it gathered high on their heads, or braided in some way. Šóta is his wife’s cousin, and as the Chief’s son, he wears a small adornment of eagle feathers threaded into his hair. His closest friends are Takoda and Otaktay. Both of them laugh at Dean the most, and in their language, using just enough gestures and body language that Dean knows he’s being talked about. They point at his boots and his brown Stetson hat—two of the only things he’s kept of his own that make him feel comfortable in his own skin.

Finally, Šóta goes over to him. “Good try,” he says, in his usual patronizing tone.

Dean knows he can’t punch out Mila’s cousin, no matter how bad he’s asking for it. Somehow, Dean manages to hold onto his temper.

“What’re they saying?” he asks lowly, gesturing at the two chuckle brothers.

Šóta’s lips twitch. He glances down at Dean’s feet. “They say your…shoes are loud on the earth. You give yourself away before the animal even catches your scent.”

Dean’s given up a lot of things, but his boots won’t be one of them. He wants to learn. He wants to belong here, in Mila’s world, but he also wants to stay himself.

So the men move on, mounting their horses. Dean rides with Baby at a plodding clip. Her black coat ripples with a healthy sheen. He thinks she’s come to enjoy the more natural surroundings and freer pasture of the grasslands, and he can’t deny, this part of it all feels right. The sun peeks through between the dappled leaves of oak trees, painting the ground in red, green, and gold. It’s quiet and beautiful here as Šóta leads the pack through the forest, just southwest of the village.

Eventually, he stops them between a denser thatch of trees and shrub. He raises a hand signal that Dean’s come to recognize. He raises his bow belatedly after the others though. He follows Šóta’s line of vision, and there is a deer grazing in a small clearing. A young buck.

Šóta signals at Dean. Try again, his eyes say.

Dean takes in a deep, quiet breath through his nose, and he takes aim.

He really misses his damn rifle.

Dean shoulders the sting of failure while he makes his way through the camp, leading Baby by the reigns. He drops her off at the large horse pen. There he feeds her and brushes her long coat, all while murmuring soft affectionate things. She’s still one of his only friends here.

But even she leaves him short to join her new friend, Mato. The two have become thick as thieves. Mato greets the black mare with a friendly whinny. Their noses touch in affection, and Mato playfully nips at her ear.

Dean raises his brows. “Well, that’s a little more friendly than usual. You guys start courting when I wasn’t looking?”

He walks over to Mato, who’s softened up to him in recent weeks.

“You sly dog,” Dean remarks, smirking. “Didn’t even ask me for her hand.”

Mato blows a hot breath through his nose at Dean, who has to blink, wiping his face.

“Now that’s just rude.” Still, he offers the mustang an apple from his pocket. Mato takes it from his palm, letting Dean rub his neck while he munches on his snack. “As fathers-in-law go, you lucked out, pal. See? I’m a delight.”

He wouldn’t be surprised if Baby had her first foal by spring. Dean grins at the thought, but it soon falls. If only his father-in-law were so easy to please.

His mind dwells on it as he starts making his way back to the heart of the village. Chatan, Mila’s father, hasn’t warmed up to him any better than Šóta or the other men. Tahatan is the only one of them who treats Dean civilly, and overall, he seems to be a good leader.

Dean has that thought, just when he sees the older man himself walking with a woman Dean sort of recognizes. She wears a long necklace made of blue beads and seashells. Tahatan goes into her tipi, even though Dean knows…that woman isn’t the Chief’s wife.

Dean raises his brows, but he subtly pivots on his heel and takes a different route back to his own tipi. Whatever he just saw, it’s definitely not his business.

“Honey, I’m home,” he teases.

She welcomes him into her arms, her hands traveling warmly up his shoulders. He bends to kiss her, soft and slow at first. And then deeper, sucking on her lower lip and teasing her with a sensuous tongue. She hums in surprise into his mouth, making him smile.

He’s exhausted and feeling low, but he doesn’t want to let on to her. He just wants to forget about his day, and hopefully recharge with a better night.

“How did it go today?” she asks, after he allows her to breathe.

Dean nods (and lies). “Pretty good.”

She waits for him to continue. When he just continues to hold her, she raises her brows up at him.

“Dean?”

“What? I’m workin’ on archery. Lots of progress.”

She eyes him in suspicion, and he knows he doesn’t have her fooled. Actually, she looks like she’s going to press him about it, so he releases her from his hold and goes to change out of his dirty clothes to avoid her gaze.

“Hey, uh, maybe it’s none of my business, but I saw the Chief go into some other woman’s tent today. Holding hands, bedroom eyes, the whole deal,” he says while he changes. He glances back at her and waggles his brows. Mila smiles slightly.

“Did she wear her hair in a half-braid, or did she wear a necklace made of seashells?” she asks.

Dean’s surprised that she doesn’t seem surprised, but he thinks back to what he saw.

“Uh, seashells. Yeah, she wore seashells,” he says.

Mila nods. “Yes, that woman is also his…the chiefs of my people are known to take more than one wife.”

At that, Dean becomes even more surprised. He finishes dressing and leaves his boots by the tipi’s entrance. His raised brows even out into a smirk.

“Well, okay. Guess it’s good to be Chief,” he says.

Mila’s lips purse as she eyes him narrowly. She goes back to stirring the stew with a wide, wooden spoon. Dean doesn’t see her reaction, but he does notices that something’s missing from his side of the bedding. He frowns.

“Hey, where’s my gun?” He asks Mila, who shakes her head without looking at him.

“I moved it,” she curtly replies.

Dean’s frown deepens. He touches her arm to get her attention.

“I’d rather you didn’t do that, baby,” he says. He’s made sure that she knows the basics of a gun well enough, but he doesn’t want to take the chance of her hurting herself.

“Don’t leave it out, then,” she snips back. “It shouldn’t go where we sleep.”

Dean tilts his head at her. He’s a bit confused at her tone, especially because they’ve had this conversation before.

“I have it there just in case something happens at night,” he reminds her. His pistol is really just for emergencies though. There are only three bullets left in it, and he can’t exactly go shopping for more. 

Dean realizes then that Mila’s mood has shifted. He approaches her from behind.

“What’s wrong, huh?” His hands find familiar purchase along the curve of her waist. He swipes her braid away and presses a kiss where her neck meets her shoulder. More teasingly, he asks, “What’d I do now?”

Mila remains tight-lipped, until she glances at him over her shoulder.

“Do you want another woman?” she asks.

It’s a simple question, but it succeeds in completely tripping him up. He blinks at her, incredulous and bewildered.

“What?”

She continues shredding another herb to put into the stew. Somehow, it makes the broth smell a bit worse. 

“You seem to admire the Chief for having three wives, so you must want another one too,” she says.

Holy shit, three wives? Dean wonders. The man must be a saint. Look at the hell I’m catching with one.

He can’t help but laugh, a deep belly chuckle that does nothing to take away Mila’s ire. She glares at him now, genuinely upset, and Dean knows he’s starting to shit the bed on this one. He sobers up and raises his hands in surrender.

“Sweetheart,” he says, in a placating tone.

Despite her annoyance, she allows him to hold her again. He plies her with more tantalizing kisses along her neck. He breathes in the sweet-smelling oil she uses on her hair.

“You’re more than enough woman for me. You know that, right?” he whispers against her skin. It earns her slight shudder, and he smiles. He teases the spot just under her ear, grazing with his teeth, then soothing with his tongue. She can’t help but writhe against him a bit. It stirs a well of desire in his lower belly, especially when he squeezes her hips, pressing himself to her from behind.

She tries to remain strong as she clears her throat, no doubt feeling his growing hardness against her. She starts to blush hotly.

“It’s all I can do just to make sure you stay sweet for me,” Dean says, a hint of teasing returned to his voice.

Mila finally breaks into a laugh. She reaches back to swat him on the head, but his ministrations work. Once she manages to escape from his grasp with a teasing smile of her own, she more happily serves him a bowl of stew.

Dean smirks. Fine, he can be patient. He’ll just have to wait until dessert, then. After a moment to calm himself, he sits down on the ground beside her and brings a large spoonful of stew to his lips. There, he pauses. The strange taste that assaults his tongue nearly makes him choke, but he does his best to swallow it down. The meat’s tough as nails, for Christ’s sake…

Hearing a spoon clatter against the bowl, he chances glancing at Mila. She sits stock still, her brows furrowed as she frowns. Slowly, she sets the bowl down and says,

“Stop eating.”

She looks angry at herself. Dean feels bad for her, his sympathy striking at his chest.

“What do you mean? I’m hungry,” he says, and gamely takes another couple of bites.

She just watches him. Her upset worsens while he tries and fails to cover up a hacking cough.

Finally, Mila can stand no more. She takes the bowl from him, making some of the foul broth slosh over their hands and onto the ground. She tried to make wahonpi, one of the most basic soups in her people’s culture, made from bison, potatoes, corn, and carrots stewed in the broth.

Eyota told me it was simple! she thinks in dismay. How did it go so wrong?

“It’s no good,” she says, her voice hard. “I will go to my mother and see what she cooked. She may have extra for us.”

She rises to her feet, and Dean quickly follows her. He catches sight of her tears, even though she turns her face away from him to grab her shoes. He reaches out and stops her with a hand on her arm. He tugs her back to face him.

“Hey, it’s okay. Why’re you getting so upset?” he says. “I’m not picky. I’ll eat whatever you make.”

Or maybe next time, I’ll try doing the cooking, he thinks.

“Because!” she blurts. Tears well up in her eyes and begin to slip down her cheeks, no matter how much she tries to brush them away. “Because you shouldn’t have to eat it. Because it should be good. You deserve to eat something good!”

Mila finally realizes why her mother tried so hard to teach her these things. She’s embarrassed, feeling sorry for herself, but it’s also far worse than that. Her heart hurts knowing what Dean has gone through, and what he continues to go through for her sake. The least she could do is make sure he eats well, and it seems she can’t even do that.

“Mila,” he says with a sigh. He guides her into his embrace. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

She can’t allow herself to be comforted. She pushes at his chest to look up at him.

“You think I don’t know what happens outside?” she says. “It’s a small village, and people talk when they think I’m not listening. I know what the men are doing to you.”

Dean shakes his head stubbornly. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”

“You should not have to,” she insists, resting a hand over his heart. “You have proven yourself to be a man of honor. Tahatan said it himself. They should not be this way.” 

Dean smiles ruefully. “I can handle it.” 

He bows his head and captures her lips, plying her with a deeper kiss. The heat of it grows and becomes more than a distraction, more than comfort. It strips everything else away, until it’s just the two of them again, like the night she found him at the riverbank and held him until he woke up in her arms.

What they eat doesn’t matter. Other people don’t matter. All that matters is this.

He squeezes her hips and presses her harder against him, so she can feel every part of his desire. She moans into his mouth, curling her fingers into his shirt. So he guides her down to the bedding, where he shows her what he’d rather get a taste of.

Later that evening, Mila and Dean have dinner with her parents. Her mother, Weaya, is a gracious host, treating Dean both like a guest and a proper son-in-law. She gives him a special cut of braised bison meat, not to mention extra corn and potato hash. Chatan says nothing to him and eats in gruff, stoic silence. 

Dean can tell it both hurts and annoys his wife, but he has to focus on answering Weaya’s many questions about his life—mainly about his family and the farm he grew up on. In some ways, raising crops and rearing up cows, chickens, and horses there isn’t so different from the Lakota village.  

“You must miss that place. Your home,” she says. Dean meets his mother-in-law’s eyes, pausing in polishing off the meat sauce on his plate with a piece of bread. Chatan looks up from his meal, and so does Mila, who hesitates too. He sees the thread of her concern there, behind her eyes, so Dean hides the stab of sadness that hits him every time he thinks of Lawrence. 

“Sometimes,” he admits. He looks over at Mila. “But I’m not alone. That’s what matters.”

She smiles at him softly. Dean has the urge to take her hand, maybe raise it up to his lips, but he’ll leave that for when they’re alone. He doesn’t want to upset her father any more than he has just by sitting in Chatan’s house. Tent…whatever.

He’s glad when, after almost another hour and a round of hot tea, Mila finishes chatting with her mother and stands. It means they can finally get the hell out of here. No disrespect to her parents, but with so much change happening so quickly, Dean had been able to put Lawrence out of his mind for a while. Tonight he thinks about his mom and his brother more than makes him comfortable on their way through the village. He follows Mila inside their tipi, then starts up a candle while she gets ready to rest for the evening. 

Living here is like going back in time—before the lantern, before indoor plumbing and the water heater. It’s not a huge hardship for Dean, who’s spent a lot of his life sleeping on hard, dusty ground, or military bases with less than most modern amenities, but it’s still another adjustment. 

He undresses down to his pants and settles down to the bedding and furs, waiting for his wife. She kneels beside him after undressing down to just her shift. He lays on his back with an arm tucked behind his head, and he watches her unbind her long, dark hair, undoing the braid from the bottom strands. She has this concentrated look on her face, like her mind is far away, even though she’s right here next to him. He threads his fingers through her loose hair while she works, giving her a smile.   

“You okay?” he asks. 

Mila pauses. She lets her tresses escape from her fingers and reaches for him, laying her hand on his chest. Dean holds it there and finally allows himself to press a kiss into her palm. 

I’m sorry, is what she wants to say, but she knows he’ll only reply, For what?

So she lowers down and slips into his warm embrace, as if this can make them both forget the day. She rests her cheek over his beating heart. 

“You will never be alone,” she promises. 

Dean quirks a smile. Instead of answering, he brushes her cheek tenderly with his hand, and he closes his eyes. A few deep breaths later, and he finds sleep.

The candle slowly flickers out.   

On most nights, Mila falls asleep before Dean, and so his light snores don’t bother her. Tonight, even though she’s tried, she can’t tune out his rumbles. Or maybe it’s her own mind she can’t tune out.

She carefully maneuvers out of his hold and slips on her shoes. Maybe the moon will give her clarity tonight. 

She pushes open the front flap of the tent and steps out into the cooler air. She looks up at the moon’s white-blue glow, a wide crescent peeking out from between two large clouds. A strong breeze tugs at her hair and flutters her lashes when she closes her eyes. She crosses her arms when goosebumps spread across her tan skin.

“What troubles you, Kimmímila?”

The voice is steady and male, and all too familiar. Still, the intrusion startles her. Her eyes fly open wide and she jolts, inhaling sharply. She frowns when she realizes it’s him. 

“What are you doing? It’s late,” she says.

He steps out from the shadows with his pipe in hand. He smells strongly of tobacco. Her father and uncle smoke as well, but she doesn’t like it herself. She’s glad Dean doesn’t either.  

“Easing my mind,” he says, raising his pipe. “I see you’re up to the same thing.”

Mila shakes her head. She returns her attention to the moon. “Go. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Are we not friends, Mila?” he says. “Can’t we talk and share like we used to?”

His voice is disheartened enough that it earns her gaze. She sighs at him. 

“I am sorry, but I can’t give you what you want,” she says. “Don’t test me anymore.”

He pauses with his pipe in hand. It drops to his side, and he takes measured steps closer, until he’s looking down at her. Even with the litheness of his form, he’s still taller and broader than her. His long, dark hair is half pulled onto the top of his head, threaded together with a beaded leather string she made for him when they were children. He has used it ever since. The rest of his hair lays loose down his back, brushing his arms. 

“If you actually loved him, it wouldn’t be a test,” he teases.  

He tries to touch her cheek, but she guides his hand down. She shakes her head and steps away from him. 

“This isn’t a game,” she says. “You know I mean what I say.”

His anger and frustration surfaces, with a sharp exhale of breath and the crunch of his dark brows.

“You would choose the Outlander over your own people,” he accuses.

Mila’s gaze is firm as she heads back to her tipi. If he will not be reasonable, then she will make it clear enough to hurt. 

“I choose him over you,” she says. 

Then, she slips back inside.     

The shadow outside remains, just long enough for the moon to become clear past the moving clouds. 

In the morning, Mila goes to her uncle, Chief Tahatan. She finds her parents there in his tipi as well, all of them sharing breakfast. Her aunt passes around more bread and wojapi, a sweet mixed berry sauce, while her father is resting a broken ankle. He’s complaining again, even though it happened over a week ago now. 

“If you hadn’t let the horse buck you off, you wouldn’t be hurting,” she says sharply now. She’s become annoyed with his griping. “Or better yet, you can finally admit that you’re beyond the years of breaking young stallions.” 

Chatan is the Horsemaster of their tribe, and has been since Mila was a little girl, inheriting the position from her great uncle, the former chief’s younger brother. Mila knows, however, that Chatan is getting too old to do the harder work. Many years have meant many battles too, and they’ve taken their toll on his bones. 

An idea grows in her mind, and she goes to sit beside her father. She applies the poultice Eyota gives Weaya for him, before rewrapping his ankle.

“Father,” she begins, imploring him gently, “perhaps Dean could help you care for the horses.”

Chatan eyes her with a frown. “Your husband already has his hands filled with training.” 

“Šóta and Takoda can’t do it all themselves, and Dean has experience with breaking young horses,” she reasons.  

Chatan ignores her and hefts himself to his feet without her or his wife’s help. He leaves with her mother on his heels, even though she looks back at her daughter apologetically. You know your father, her eyes say. 

Mila frowns at his back, both frustrated and upset. When they’re gone, she heaves a sigh. She remains determined though. 

She goes to Chief Tahatan next. He sits in his chair of whicker and wood while he smokes his pipe. Her aunt has gone to help the other women harvesting chokeberries and wild onions. Mila will go there soon, but first, she has business here.

“Uncle,” she says. 

He makes a sound of acknowledgement, crossed between a grunt and a groan. He knows what's coming. She kneels at his feet and touches his hand in a sign of humbleness, reverence, and familial love all at once. 

“Uncle,” she repeats. “Dean has done nothing but try to please Father, but still, he’s being stubborn…will you talk to him? Please?”

Tahatan sighs deeply. “You must understand your father, child. The decision you’ve made affects us all.”

“I do understand, Uncle. But the truth of it is, none of you have given Dean a chance to prove himself.”

“His chance is right now,” Tahatan says, his tone more stern. “Have I not been gracious? Did I not allow him to stay and live among us?”

“Yes, but you continue to judge him in your mind, like everyone else,” she says. The Chief remains quiet. She moves to stand before him, holding his gaze directly. “Let us perform the Huŋkápi.”

Huŋkápi. The Making of Relatives. Her people first created the tradition to make peace between Lakota and rival tribes, like the Ree. It can even be used to unite extended families within the tribe, especially in times of marriage. There is no better time for it, she thinks. 

The Chief shakes his head. “Kimmímila.”

“Is he not my husband?” she says. “In the eyes of our people, this is the joining of two families, and accepting an outsider into our tribe. That is exactly what the ceremony is for.”

“He has no family,” Tahatan snaps. “It is not exactly the tradition.”

“Then let us make it new,” she argues.

Tahatan hesitates. He shakes his head and rubs at his chin in a gesture of long-suffering. He thanks the spirits that he never had daughters. While he loves his niece, he has never envied his brother. 

“I will think on it,” he says. 

Mila frowns, but she tries her best to accept this, for now. She thanks him respectfully and leans in to kiss his cheek. Tahatan grunts an acknowledgement and watches her go with another shake of his head, despite a small smile. Between her and his sons, they will keep adding years to his life. 

On her way out of the Chief’s tipi, she runs into her cousin, Šóta. He walks with all the comfortable cockiness of a rooster among his harem.

“Good morning, sister,” he greets, even as he playfully pulls at her braid and tosses it into her face.

She flicks it away and meets him with an irritated frown. She’s in no mood to be teased, especially by him. “You’re still a child.”

“Ho-ho, hey now,” he chuckles, and he cuts off her path by standing in her way, crossing his arms. “Watch it. When I become Chief, don’t think I’ll let you talk to me so disrespectfully, my sister.”

“Just because you will be Chief one day does not make you wise,” she says. Her voice is as sharp as the snap of a blackberry vine. “And don’t call me sister. You have lost that right.”

Šóta finally becomes serious; he realizes that she means what she says.

“What are you talking about? What have I done?” he asks, more earnestly.

“It’s what you haven’t done,” Mila snaps. “If you were a good leader, you would take your father’s words to heart when he accepted my husband into our tribe. If you were my brother, you wouldn’t let the men mock him. If you were a man at all, you would do what is right. You would be guiding him right now, instead of letting the others ‘train’ him.”

She storms away from him, leaving Šóta feeling irritated, but also with an uncomfortable feeling beginning to churn in his gut. 

Mila moves brusquely through the camp until she reaches the clearing edged by the forest. There the horses are fenced in. They’ve been given their food and water for the morning, so they’re rather frisky as they clop around and graze.

She looks for Mato. Baby is no doubt with Dean today, so the Kiger mustang keeps to himself underneath a large sycamore tree. His tail flicks when she approaches, and he turns to her with a sound of greeting. She allows her hand to run along his dun-colored coat as she draws closer.

“I need you, my friend,” she whispers. 

She holds his snout, pressing her forehead against his as she squeezes her eyes shut against the burn of frustrated tears. Mato bumps her shoulder with his nose, softly whinnying. She smiles, sniffling, and rubs his cheek. 

“Let’s go for a ride.”

AN: Well, here we go! Sorry for ending on some angst, but here we've got the pieces in motion for a fun-filled, four-part sequel. 😂💜 Dean and Mila are both struggling in their own ways while he tries to navigate this new world he's trying to live in.

And how do you think he's gonna react to the "mystery man" trying to win her back? 😬

Pronunciation Guide:

Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Otaktay ("ogh-tac-tay") Weaya ("we-ayy-ya") Takoda ("ta-koda") Mato ("matt-toe") Misae ("mee-sah-eh")

Next Time:

But she feels a shadow at her feet as she ventures through the village. They are getting bigger as a tribe, harder to move when they need to, and it’s more mouths to feed, but it’s also a good thing. Despite all the challenges the past few decades have brought, their people are enduring. 

However, she pushes these thoughts to the back of her mind when she feels a prickling down the back of her neck. It’s followed shortly by the strong hand that closes on her wrist, and the man that calls her name. 

She gasps and whips around. He is there, gently shushing her. She glares at him and tries to pull her hand out of his grip. 

Read Part 2 now on Patreon! (Coming next Friday)

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Series Tag List (Part 1)

(Going back to the regular Dean tag list, plus those who said they'd like to be tagged on this series!)

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl

@thebiggerbear @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @deans-spinster-witch

@deans-baby-momma @sanscas @kaleldobrev @spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@globetrotter28 @adoringanakin @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean @iprobablyshipit91

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @pieandmonsters

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @chernayawidow @mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @mxltifxnd0m

@my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof @samslvrgirl @tortureddarkstar

@tmb510 @syrma-sensei @artemys-ackles @malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester

@jc-winchester @charmed-asylum @fromcaintodean @k-slla

[kibbles-bits]

Heaven's Best AU just wanna make sure I do understand.Your Winner!Vox is like canon version but somehow ended up in heaven!? Was he really surprised himself and of course, staying there over 50 years with a long a healthy and a positive environment with along her, bestie Emily, a good of influence on him give him a change of heart. also, it could before died He accidentally did a good deed without realizing it he expected he was ended up in HELL!? Due of the heaven system make it a special pass in a way for him, Or it’s not that big of a surprise do the fact as WHAT IF did better choice compare his canon version!?

The simple reason I give on why Winner!Vox ended up in Heaven is that he was Rich and Never Had a Bad Day.

He was just insanely lucky. There was never a situation where he had to make any kind of decision that would lead to him ending up in Hell. Some of his money ended up going to good causes because - well, life was great for him! It was money he wasn't using and he was pretty much set for life. He simply didn't feel compelled to do anything bad to make more money (if only that could happen in real life) so he just. Ended up throwing money at good causes because people working under him would suggest things to fund and he'd just be like 'sure, whatever' and get lucky they were all legitimately good.

He went through life without him actually doing anything or really caring about who he was helping. If you asked him to list what causes he donated or funded he would have no idea.

When he ends up in Heaven, he's faced with Winners who set out to make things better for the less fortunate. Who committed acts of good out of love or because it was right. And those who weren't in any position of power to help strangers still worked hard for their families and loved ones and brought happiness into their lives.

And Vox didn't.

He knows his money helped someone, probably. So that's all he can say he did.

But now money isn't even a thing in Heaven and no one actually needs help up here so he can't 'catch up'. He feels like he has nothing, and everyone else has... something. Everything? And he can feel that other Winners know something is different about him.

In the beginning he doesn't like telling other Winners he's basically in Heaven because he was rich (he actually tried avoiding telling Husk this when he asks) and it's not until Emily hypes it up and gives all the positives that he's a little more open about it. Pretends he really did give a damn about the people he helped until he believed it himself.

He threw himself into making Heaven 'better' to make himself feel better. This could have ended up badly for others if it was on Earth or Hell, but Vox is surrounded by good people. No one wants to do him harm and most of his negative feelings are just due to him overthinking things. Emily helps him out a lot and any time an idea of his comes out as self-serving, she is able to spin it in a way that makes it help everyone and remind him that the goal is to help everyone, not just himself.

Living with other Winners and being friends with Emily for over 50 years means a lot of good traits did rub off on him! Vox is much, much friendlier than his canon counterpart because of this. It's also why there's a kind of aura of innocence around him once and a while. He's lived in Heaven for longer than he's been alive.

Just like when he was on earth, Heaven never throws him into a situation where there's a wrong choice to be made.

Of course, that changes when he visits Hell.

Read the Heaven's Best AU HERE

[marauding-almond]

I have been absolutely OBSESSED with the thought of kiwi Remus recently because it works so well and i cannot get it out of my head, so here are a bunch of headcannons (part one- I have too many thoughts to put them in one single post)

Lyall and Hope met in London, Lyall was Welsh and Hope was kiwi

Hope gets pregnant and Lyall doesn't want to be a father, so they break up

Hope goes back to New Zealand and Remus is born there

Remus grows up in a small town in the South Island, I'm thinking Dunedin, or perhaps Wānaka (mayyybe Invercargill)

He grows up with his mom in a small house on a hill looking out to the water, a little on the outskirts of the town

Remus is still a werewolf; he gets bitten by an rogue werewolf on night when he's around three or four, but Hope manages to deal with it

She locks him in the back shed for the full moons, but as soon as dawn awakes, she's there with bandages and chocolate fish and hugs

It's hard, especially the first one, but they manage it, and Hope makes sure that Remus knows he's not a monster and still very loved

And the worst that happens the neighbours occasionally mention the wolf howls once or twice

Their neighbours, a middle-aged couple with no children, love them, especially Remus

They always give him a slice of cake when he comes round, and Hope a basket of cherries or something

They have a few sheep, and Remus loves going there and helping with the lambs, running with them in the paddock

He's a classic kiwi kid, spends almost all of his time outside, climbing trees and running barefoot, large rimmed hats, shorts all year round, constantly kicking off his shoes, always a bit of a burn on his cheeks because he's always forgetting to put on sunscreen (despite his mum's best efforts)

He takes the bus every morning to get to the local school

The school's only got a couple dozen kids, but the teachers are nice and Remus likes it, he loves learning, loves reading, especially

He's a quiet kid, doesn't have that many friends, but he's happy to just climb up a tree and sit there with a book

Hope is a bit of a hippie, and she goes round a lot of protests for Māori rights, queer rights, etc

The locals don't love it (it's the 60s), but she just rolls with it

She makes sure to teach Remus fragments of Māori, as much as she knows, which isn't much, but it's something

She can also see that her son's queer, even before he tells her, and makes sure to let him know that queer people are perfectly fine, and that she loves him

She struggles a bit financially, working at the local dairy and not earning all that much, but she grows a veggie garden and makes it work

And every summer, she makes sure to take at least two weeks off work and the two of them go off in their dingy caravan, put the Beatles on the radio, drive for a while and settle in some place to camp

They go walking and swimming and just enjoy nature for two weeks, every summer

Remus absolutely loves it, he'll go swimming every day, even if it's cold and raining

Hope also passes on to Remus her love of birds, teaching his all the native one's names, in English and Māori, as well as he love for baking, spending hours in the kitchen together making cakes and muffins and biscuits

And Remus is very happy and Hope is very happy

[cassiewritessalot]

scream! ༉‧₊˚.

jj maybank x fem!reader

inspired by scream from high school musical 3!

୨ৎ summary: you moved away and left jj, you didn't tell anyone anything before you left. he doesn't know what to do with himself anymore without you.

୨ৎ warnings: cussing, arguing, i think that's it?

୨ৎ cassie's notes: so sorry for going complete m.i.a, and also this is so short i hate it. i've been so burnt out and wrote this the second i got the idea, enjoy! with love always, cassie <33333.

you left him.. you left him all alone, and he doesn't know what to do.

jj rides the twinkie around obx, thinking if he mindlessly drives around he'll find you. or maybe he'll find reasons as to why you left. he wanted to figure out why you left the pogues, why you left him.

what do i do now without you?

i don't know where to go

what's the right team?

i want my own thing

so bad i'm gonna scream!

he didn't know where to look first, thinking you'd be at the beach catching some waves but you weren't there. he thought you'd be with kie and sarah, but you weren't. you weren't in any place that you'd typically be. shortly after he began spiralling and called john b to try and calm himself down.

"i don't know where the fuck she is man! i gotta find my girl!" jj screamed into his phone as john b tried to give him places to look but jj was one step ahead and already checked those places.

"did you try her place? or the beach? maybe she went to help pope with deliveries." john b's voice echoed through the speakers.

"dude her parents are assholes she'd never go home to them, she's not at the beach and yes i checked both and pope hasn't seen her.." jj says into the phone and begins to get even more worried than before causing him to spiral more.

he knew if you were with him he would know what to do, but you weren't. if you were here he wouldn't be in this situation of frantically looking for you everywhere.

which way i can't tell

i'm searchin, searchin', can't find a (way that i should turn)

i should turn right or left this?

it's like nothing works without you!

jj felt like he was losing his mind. he knew he wouldn't be able to cope with you not being by his side. he needed you, he wasn't afraid to admit that. he needed you like how the earth needs the sun to revolve around it. you were his sun, you made him glow happiness and love.

you made his life better, you made him a different person. a better person at that. he ends the call with john b after several minutes have gone by and he didn't listen to a word john b said in those minutes. he keeps his eyes on the road and tries not to lose focus and he stops by one more beach, a beach only you two knew about where you'd go for some alone time.

he gets out of the driver's seat of the twinkie and walks to a spot you two had gone. it was a secluded spot with a massive rock covering most of it.

he put his face in his hands when he didn't find you and began walking back and forth angrily talking- actually, screaming at himself. he was angry at himself for letting you get away, he thought it was his fault you left.

yeah the clock's running down

hear the crowd getting loud

i'm consumed by the sound

is it her? is it love?

can the music ever be enough?

"gotta work it out, gotta work it out, you can do it.." the blond boy whispered to himself as he started thinking of unhinged ideas to get you back as he gazed at the open ocean infront of him.

the voices in his head started to sound like a crowd with the amount of overlapping commencing in his head, he tried to clear his head. he tried. but they didn't stop, every voice was chanting your name and he couldn't take it anymore. so he screamed.

"fuck!" he screamed loudly knowing nobody had heard him as the beach was just outside of town and he began kicking the sand. after his little outburst he stroked his hair with hand before making his way back to the twinkie thinking of a new plan already.

[aurenturley]

It was precisely Feyre who told Nesta, before being taken , not to marry Tomas. Feyre, in the first book, saw all of Tomas's "red flags" and told Nesta not to marry him, because he had an abusive father with his mother, and would treat Nesta the same way. And you tell me that this younger, more reckless Feyre was able to see through a man she barely knew, but she can't see through Cassian? Through Rhysand?

And do you know what's even more ironic? Do you know what Feyre's argument was for his intuition regarding Tomas? That he didn't take a stand against his father to protect his own mother, that he never did anything to help, and consequently, in her logic, this made her believe that Tomas actually agreed with his father's attitude towards his mother. Not to mention the fact that Thomas looked at Feyre lewdly, so she was already aware of him.

And do you know who else doesn't take a stand against an abusive man who wants to *KILL* an innocent woman? Yeah, Cassian... And the worst part is that the woman is his own mate. And in a way, Feyre's logic can be applied here... If he doesn't take a stand to defend her, it's because deep down he supports and believes that the abuse against Nesta is the right thing to do. And from what we can see from his POV... That's more than concrete.

Feyre even uses the same logic with Lucien and Tamlin: if he didn't help me, he also supports Tamlin.

Cassian is in a similar situation here, he is friends with the high lord. The similarity ends there, because their relationship is not limited to friendship outside of work like Lucien and Tamlin, Cassian and Rhysand call themselves brothers and Nesta is his MATE, and he not only stays silent when Rhysand threatens to kill her, he PUNISHES HER! And he also stays silent when she belittles herself. He pushed her away more than once in public and Feyre SAW IT! She saw him change lingerie weeks after declaring himself to Nesta and then leave her alone again.

Feyre only sees what she wants. If she likes Cassian then Cassian is good. And yet is not good even even for her, happy to obey his master and let her die without even knowing why.

And in the second book there's a whole paragraph about how Cassian and Azriel would turn against Rhsyand if she was in danger at his hands. Hilarious. She was in danger and they didn't even blink. Not even Morrigan, who she considers a sister and supposedly helps women make their own choices, her "supposed" family that would do anything for her would let her die without her having any choice about her own body or even knowing about it.

If Tomas was bad just for "letting" his father beat his mother (Feyre's first reason to dislike him was because of this, before knowing how disgusting he was) what would Cassian be if he was going to allow his brother to kill the supposed love of his life?

But again Feyre only sees what she wants, if she likes someone they have no flaws if she is against them they never did a good thing in their life and deserve all the hate.

Feyre ignores how Rhysand was abusive and STILL IS to her because in her eyes he can't do no wrong, so whatever he does, it is the right thing and just brushes it off, same thing with Cassian, there is only black and white with Feyre, she sees how he acts with Nesta and yet she doesn't see anything wrong with it because Cassian is good, so he is not abusive doesn't matter what is in front of her eyes.

And yet acotar stans still act like Feyre's POV is fact, not just her own opinion and the way she sees things in her very narrowed mind, only regarding her feelings, even after Nesta's POV, acotar stans only allows Feyre's POV to be the whole truth.

[deandoesthingstome]

Ode to COD Writers

First of all: No, I'm probably not back. At least, not writing.

Second: No, I'm not changing my URL, icon photo, or...well, I guess I can't really say my concentration, but honestly. Who knows?

It isn't like this account has ever been exclusively one thing, and COD posts haven't been unheard of until now, but it certainly hasn't been where my attention has been. Until now.

I took a Tumblr break, but during one of my quick check ins I came across an amazing Ghost x Reader fic that had me hooked from the get go. Now, Ghost is not my type. Not really. But Soap sure as fuck is. So while I ran, ran I say, to AO3 to follow the rest of the Ghost series (tattooer!Ghost??? I bit hard), I also took the time to swing around the author's other works and then the tags to find more of what I crave.

Good. Fucking. Stories. (No, they don't have to be about fucking. But it's nice.) Stories written with passion and care. Stories that sink into you brain, swim around in your blood, and take up the breath in your body. Stories that put a new twist on an old idea, or come up with their own idea. Stories that make you want more, crave more.

So, I need to tell you about this. It may not mean anything to you. But if you know me, you know I love to tell you what I love about a story so that if it tickles your fancy in any way, maybe you'll take it for a spin and see if I lied. Check the cut for recommendations:

I haven't listed all elements of every fic, so be sure to read the tags and the warnings if there is something you don't like to read. I just needed to get this love letter out. I've added Tumblr account links where I could (and if my budding Nancy Drew skills failed me, I'm happy to remove the link.)

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

it happens. - jo_lapeno (soap x reader) (I THINK this is @jolapeno here, but in a round about way. Her masterlist links to AO3, where the author has a pseud, so make sure to check out the jo_lapeno link also. I'm sure her Pedro fics are just as bomb.

This wasn't my first Soap fic. It won't be my last. But it's one I wish I could crawl into and wrap myself in. The push and pull, the way the story is crafted, the build of passion, desire, need, the worry, the love. Just see if this enemies to lovers doesn't fuel your desire.

Hung Scot Can’t Hold Himself Back, Huge Oneshot (Girlfriend POV) - callmepoison (soap x reader) (@goaskpoison - https://goaskpoison.tumblr.com/ I can't tag you. But also, I think this post explains why I'm still waiting for my hunger for storm chaser to be sated. And you better believe I switched my playlist from The Roots to The National as I write this. I'm not sure this is the vibe I envisioned while treading those steel halls, caressing those big birds, sneaking into quarters, fighting in the streets, but I like it just the same. It honestly feels like it fits the fic I was actually trying to rec just now...or maybe it fits "it happens", above?)

Unrelated to the playlist garble above, you aren't in the military in this one; you're a medical resident at UCLA Health. You find Johnny in the best way. You take the right risks and come away with the best prize. He is so. fucking. charming. The consummate co-pilot. An absolute dream come true. I'd happily crawl into this universe, too.

This Chapter 8 of Kinktober 2024 - Call of Duty - 1478963255 (yes that's the account name; I cannot find them on Tumblr) (soap x reader)

Like, all of them really. But this Soap x Reader quickie in the rain outside the bar down the alley where Ghost is watching will make you wish your back was against that brick wall.

storm chaser - callmepoison (soap x reader, ghost x reader, soap x reader x ghost?)

This is not complete. This is an interesting take on A/B/O. This had my heart racing, fingers clenching, breath held. I wanted to care as much about the ships as the author did, but I was too mesmerized by the OFC (you) to spend the time. I wanted to know everything, EVERYTHING, about her. I needed to know her name, her scent, the way her skin feels under my fingers... oh shit, that was Soap. That was how Soap felt. And it's funny, 'cause I'm 99.9% sure Soap is fucking Ghost (or maybe the other way?), but you're gonna end up fucking both maybe? I don't know because we're only 5 chapters in, but, my god! do you have a fun time getting here. Johnny is my hero.

The (Scottish) Cabin in the Woods - Charlie_M (soap x reader x ghost) (EDIT: @charliemwrites - I'm Charlie, too! )

Technically speaking, not just Johnny. This may have been one of the first COD fics I found and read on AO3, but it was well before this most recent foray. It started with you and Johnny at a cabin in the highlands, through a delicious vision of Johnny chopping wood, before it sent you to a masked man's cabin - chained to the wall next to Johnny. It's a total mindfuck. But beware - it also is not complete. There purports to be one more chapter, but who knows if it will ever come. I don't care. It's gorgeous.

Everything in Kinkmas 2024 - GloomWitch @gloomwitchwrites

Yes, the author of Ink & Needle, that tattooer!ghost x reader fic I mentioned above, is back with a quintet of cute little vignettes with Soap, Ghost, even Gaz. They are all special, but For Long Distance Fun is a beautiful homage to your favorite Scot.

Kinktober 2024 also gave us Monster (S)mash, the absolute best porn set you've ever been on. Soap, Chost, Gaz AND Price! Get 'em all in one! Just love everything about the detail, the world building, the admiration and love.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

I know I said he wasn't really my type. But good stories are and if they put me in his way, who am I to question it? Expand your horizons.

A Brute, Brute Heart - GloomWitch

Is also sending me to my knees for this man. It's only just begun, but if it does what it says, you are about to get dommed by Ghost. like. yes. please. This first chapter will set the mood. Enjoy.

ever yours....

[everythingspokenfor]

Part 4

─ ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ─

No conclusion was drawn that day, Bakugou couldn't answer your question, you didn't bother questioning him further, the day continued in silence, he helped you organise things a bit more before leaving in the evening.

You didn't like being alone with your thoughts, especially ones that were regarding your unrequited love for Bakugou. On one hand you wished that he loved you back, that he could see how you were always there for him, on the other hand, your rationalized that he wasn't obligated to love you back, and that you should move on.

Life did continue as usual, your leave from agency was finished and you returned back to work. Mostly you avoided Bakugou, but with your work overlapping it was difficult at times. Unintentionally you ended avoiding your friends too, Kirishima had tried talking to you, he was the only one aware of your feelings, apart from that you hadn't really talked to anyone.

"I thought he'd be angrier than usual."

"Yeah, considering his break up, I thought someone would be fired."

"Still I am not crossing paths with Dynamight."

"What??" You blurted, not really ashamed that you were eavesdropping, the two employees looked at you shocked, before one of them uttered,"We were just discussing Dynamight's break-up."

"Sorry what?? When did that happen?" You questioned suddenly feeling guilty over something that may have been your fault unintentionally.

"Few days ago, I think."

"Okay, thanks. Also don't go around discussing your boss!" You abruptly left the hallway, swiftly moving towards the elevator.

Thousands questions arose in your mind, internally questioning why the break up may have happened.

You slammed the office door open, causing Bakugou to look towards the noise, and let out a breath upon seeing your figure.

"Finally you want to talk.", He crossed his arms and leaned against the table.

"Why did you break up with her?"

"I didn't." He admits, hand running through his hairs. Before you could question him, he spoke again,"She broke up with me."

"Why?"

"Why does it matter?" Bakugou scoffed, sharp eyes glaring at you.

"Because you were in love with her, Asshole, and you don't just let go of things you love." You yelled, hands coming up to rub your forehead, impending headache starting to settle.

"I let you go, tho." He walked over to you, noticing the slight widening of your eyes before you steeled your expression. "That was a mistake. But still I let you slip away."

"Don't speak bullshit, Bakugou." You grit out,"This isn't a fucking joke."

"She broke up with me, said you should date someone that doesn't fucking drain you." He said,"told me that I was happy when you were there." He moved to hold your hands,"I fucked up by not figuring out my feelings, dated someone because they reminded me of you." His voice broke, ruby eyes filled with tears as he lamented.

"Didn't apologise when I was given a chance, I love you, so, so much, and I wish everyday that I figured that out sooner" He whispered, head resting on your shoulder," I don't know if I deserve it, but I need you to give me another chance, let me love you right."

You let out a breath, chest suddenly aching more, the confession you always wanted, now suddenly making you bitter.

"I suffered for months, Suki." You sobbed, hands coming to first against his chest, trying to push him away, but Bakugou held your wrists, pulling you into his arms.

"You don't get to have me, Katsuki." You try to pull away from him, afraid that any second more and you'll start crying.

"Please, let me love you right, swear on my life I won't fuck up." He uttered, desperation evident in his voice, his grip loosened on your wrist, allowing you to make the decision.

Whether to stay or pull away. You chose to stay, collapsing against Bakugou's chest, sobbing in his arms. His arms encircled you, holding you tight, one hand rubbing the back of your head.

"I'll be good, this time I'll be good." He muttered, before pressing his lips against your forehead.

"This doesn't mean all that pain went away, Suki." You mumbled, cheeks smushed against his chest, you looked you at him eyes tired, nose and cheeks red from crying.

"I'll fix it, all of it." He affirmed, nothing was going to get in his way of fixing his mess up, he would prove to be worthy of your love till his last breath.

"Also either you are moving back with me or I am moving in with you." He stated with confidence, ready to settle in with you.

─ ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ─

[starflungwaddledee]

offering three cookies 🍪🍪🍪

(<< part 1)

[jewishcissiekj]

ok. tbh. i didn't hate arcane act 3. but it didn't make sense to me either

[mashmouths]

the most insane mind game tense and fraught sex scene ending with tears and literally gripping the bathroom sink i've ever seen happen within the consensual confines of holy heterosexual matrimony followed by "are you mad at me?" "no, of course not" immediately i'm Throwing Up

[just-an-enby-lemon]

*One of Riddler 's and Joker's first team ups (and likely one of the last)*

Joker's Henchman: Would you tell me another riddle? An easier one this time?

Riddler: *the biggest attention whore to ever whore for attention* But of course, I will even give you a classic one instead of one of my own creation. So tell me my dear *swinging his hands dramatically* riddle me this (another henchmen in the back mutters he did the thing in awe, for Eddie's absolute delight) what gets wetter as it dries?

Henchmen: Uh... no idea... Wait! I got it!

Riddler: *with a happy expectant smile if a bit patronizing* Hmn?

Henchmen: Is it a songbird?

Riddler: *impressed by the stupidity of the answer* Nope. I'm prettty sure a songbird just gets dry normally. Also why exclusivaly a song bird?

Henchmen: No idea.

Harley: What are you boys doing?

Henchmen: Riddles here asked me a riddle.

Harley: *very excited*Oh! I wanna play as well.*jumping* Can I? *puppy eyes don't wait for confirmation* Is the answer Eddie?

Riddler:*confused* You didn't even heard the riddle?

Harley: But am I wrong?

Riddler: Yes.

Harley: Bummer : ( *muttering* The moment he doesn't talk about himself.

Riddler: *annoyed* Any more guesses?

Joker: *coming from a dark corner like a sleep paralisys demon* I have one! What gets wetter as it dries you say? My hands wet with blood as the life dries out of someone else's eyes. Hahahahaha

Riddler: Jesus fucking Christ!? IT WAS A FUCKING TOWEL! It's an easy well known CHILDREM'S riddle! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?? *looks at who he is talking to* Nevermind.

[girlivealwaysbean]

wow when i think about it maybe this year wasn't that bad

[mer-se]

last night everyone was having traumas back to back and I wish none of it happened but it feels nice to be the first person they call

[amarithecat]

Off the top of my head oooo Tucker. Tucker, Tucker, Tucker.

"Middle child" of a friend group of kings who's the unruly, improper one of the group. You don't know much about his backstory other than "My dad used to be king, but he was horrible, so overthrew and exiled him." Come to find out it wasn't just his dad who was exiled but his nine older brothers who start coming back into his life after seven or so years. As you get to know the brothers, you discover that they're all (save for one who's still figuring things out, but even he isn't necessarily bad) decent people. Very broken, some more than others, but decent men. Tucker exiling and slandering them made their already terrible lives even worse, and in one brother's case his wife and kids' lives too. As they return and reconnect, he discovers that most of the brothers, except for the one with the family, forgive him for his actions.

It's eventually revealed that his reason for doing this, despite his brothers being nowhere near as evil as his dad, is that he felt abandoned by them. The brothers were close until their mother died, then they drifted apart. Overthrowing his dad was something he'd been planning for a while. Wanting things to go back to how they were and knowing they were ALL miserable, Tucker gave all of his brothers multiple chances to join him, or at least offer help and support. They all refused for reasons ranging from "It's a bad idea" to "I have too much in my own life to worry about now." Once the dust settles, all that remains is a very volatile and emotional 16 year old boy who has just made himself king by force, and his first decree? To send his "evil" family somewhere far, far away, never to be seen again.

I definitely think that if I'm ever fortunate(?) enough to garner a fandom, he'd spark a lot of debate. "He caused a lot of suffering because of a selfish decision he made and doesn't deserve forgiveness" vs. "He was a traumatized 16 year old pumped full of adrenaline when he made said decision and is trying to make things right now."

question for oc enjoyers: which of your ocs would spark a debate so heated it got an entire fandom poll tournament shut down