#i forgot my rant tag so sorry but ye

[eissaphir]

Nothing makes me more aggressive than the smug question "That wasn't so bad now, was it?"

If you ever ask me that, I will fucking stomp you into the ground

[heavensoutofsight]

all i see is green - [billie eilish x reader]

synopsis: billie is the lovely college student who lives in the same apartment complex as you. you don't interpret her friendliness as anything other than just that; being nice for the sake of being nice. but her true motives eventually slip through the crack, and the both of you find yourself playing a dangerous game.

tags/warnings: college student!billie x older!reader (they're exactly ten years apart - reader is 32 and billie is 22), milf reader basically, reader is a single parent, neighbors to friends to not quite lovers, mutual pining, sexual content, angst

word count: 3.2k

author's note: sorry this took so long omg. so happy to finally get this out as it has been plaguing my mind for weeks lol. please mind the warnings! hope you guys enjoy. notes and reblogs are always appreciated <3

It started off completely innocent.

Billie was such a kind, selfless young woman. That was your first impression of her when she moved into the apartment just below yours. You'll never forget that fateful day, when you were struggling with carrying groceries up the stairs, your pregnant belly making the trip up to your place more challenging then it should've been. But then, seemingly out of nowhere, Billie had pulled up, her backup slung over her shoulders, coming back home from classes. Without even giving you the choice, she helped you carry the plastic bags up the stairs. She even offered to help you put them up, but you knew she had more important things to tend to, like assignments and studying and whatnot, so you politely declined. Before she left, she smiled warmly at you, the corners of her deep blue eyes crinkling as she did so. She told you her name, Billie, and ever since then you never forgot it.

“Goodbye, Miss ____!” She had said, waving cutely at you. You waved back, endeared by her thoughtfulness.

It was a normal, neighborly thing for her to do. You didn't expect that interaction to blossom into anything more. Occasionally, you ran into each other at the convenience store, or maybe at a coffee shop, where you two would briefly talk – you'd talk about how work was going, and she'd rant about some school project or some annoying thing her professor did. Whenever you were speaking, Billie would maintain eye contact, nodding and listening attentively, and it only made you like her more. She was respectful, genuinely funny, and wise beyond her years. You enjoyed those moments of small talk between you and her; and for a while, that was it.

Your conversations with Billie became more frequent, however, some time after you gave birth to your daughter. You'll never forget Billie stopping by your apartment to meet her, completely enamored by her. You could tell Billie loved kids; she was a natural with them. It warmed your heart to see your daughter wrap her small hand around Billie's finger, staring up at her with big doe eyes, ever so curious.

Billie came by often just to check on her, and you didn't mind it one bit. Every time she stopped by, the two of you would talk about everything and anything under the sun. Despite the fact that Billie was only twenty-two, and you had just reached your thirties, you had so much in common with her, and talking to her was so easy. She was becoming a true friend, one who always listened to you, helped you, and supported you.

At some point, Billie had offered to help with babysitting on the nights when you wanted to hang out with co-workers or had some important business trip or work meeting. You trusted Billie completely, and when she first asked you, you didn't even hesitate in telling her yes. You knew your child was in good, loving hands. You paid her handsomely for her work, even giving her a key to your place for emergencies or other special occasions. You were so touched about the fact that although Billie was busy enough as a college student, she was willing to make herself even busier if it meant helping you.

You hadn't felt true support like that in a while. You had friends, and you knew they cared for you, but they were busy with their jobs, not to mention they didn't exactly live close to you. On top of that, they had families and spouses. You were single and always too tired to do anything with them. There were some days where all of your schedules would align and you'd be lucky enough to do something, but the older you got, the more you found yourself just wanting to relax at home and be lazy. It started to get to you after a while. You felt like you were missing out. On what exactly, you weren't sure.

Loneliness was a bitch, and it started eating away at you. You remember coming home after a long work meeting, feeling particularly miserable about your social life; but when you opened the door, you were greeted with Billie, who was cooking dinner in your kitchen, your baby presumably sleeping peacefully in her crib. Billie had smiled at you when you opened the door, and this time, her smile did something to you. It made you feel warm all over. And the fact that she had made you dinner, probably knowing that you'd be too exhausted to cook upon coming home, just made you more touched.

You ate dinner with her and talked about random things like you always did. You talked for even longer than normal, until the sun had long since dipped past the horizon. You were sipping on a glass of wine (because Billie had claimed that it looked like you needed some, which you laughed at), while Billie sipped on some lemonade. You both were sitting comfortably on the couch together, leaving some space between the two of you.

It was fine, perfectly fine and totally casual, until you started getting a bit tipsy. More emotional. You were ranting to Billie about how lonely you were. How no one seemed interested in you anymore. How insecure you had become after having your baby.

Billie just silently listened, holding out her hand. You took it, without thinking. She held your hand firmly, rubbing her thumb across the back of it. The gesture made you melt. You didn't even realize she had scooted closer to you as you were rambling. Her leg brushed against yours.

Suddenly, Bille had gently taken the wine glass you were holding out of your hand, placing it on the table, effectively silencing you. With watery eyes, you looked at her, slightly puzzled. Her icy blue ones were full of sympathy and pity for you. She then moved one of her hands to cup the side of your face, where she gently caressed your cheek.

There was a small voice in the back of your mind that was yelling at you to stop her. But something was keeping you from doing that. Something stronger that took over your entire being.

“You have me, so you're never alone. I will always give you the appreciation you deserve.” Billie spoke softly, her eyes never once leaving you. What she said next almost had you breathless.

“Can I show you how much you mean to me?” She asked, biting her bottom lip. You looked down at her mouth as she did so, the feeling of desire completely overwhelming you. You had to rub your thighs together when you saw a smirk slowly grow on her face, her bottom lip still caught between her pearly white teeth.

You wanted to resist. You wanted to be the bigger person and not cave in. But the alcohol in your system clouded your judgment. You weren't thinking about the possible consequences that would come with hooking up with her. You were only thinking about how much she wanted you, and how much you wanted her.

When you didn't speak for a while, Billie knew that it was because you were contemplating what to do. She knew you were fighting yourself and that you just needed a little push. And push, she did.

“Please, baby,” she begged. “Let me show you. Let me help you forget everything that makes you sad. Please.”

The way her eyebrows furrowed, the way her voice sounded as she pleaded to you – it was the final straw.

Without any warning, you closed the distance between you and her. Her plush lips were as soft as they looked. You could taste the sweetness of the lemonade she drank on her tongue. This was wrong, so wrong, but it felt so right.

That night, Billie followed through on her words. You weren't thinking about your pathetic life or your stupid boss. You were only thinking about how good her fingers felt in your pussy. She curled them just right, hitting that spot inside of you that made you see stars. At some point she had gotten on her knees, devouring you like you were her last meal. You had to keep a hand over your mouth the entire time as to not wake your sleeping baby.

She had already made you cum on her fingers and was determined to make you do it again on her face. You were so close – your hands were buried in her long hair as you felt the tension building within you, threatening to snap. You felt tears run down your cheeks at how good it all felt. You hadn't felt pleasure like this in months. Not even your own hand could make you feel like this – like you were on another fucking planet.

But – your daughter must've gently stirred in her sleep, because she had eventually woken up anyway, right as Billie was about to make you come undone.

When the sound of your daughter's cries fill the room, you had completely snapped out of the carnal lust that had overtaken you. A realization washed over you like crashing waves against the shore.

You quickly pushed Billie away, standing up and picking up your pants that had been haphazardly discarded.

Billie wiped her mouth, getting off the floor and standing alongside you. “Want me to take care of it?” She offered, referring to your crying baby. You immediately shook your head.

“No. Billie, you need to leave.” You said sternly as you pulled up your jeans.

Billie seemed confused upon hearing your words, her eyebrows drawn together. “But… I wasn't done-”

“It doesn't matter. Please, go.” You told her, not even sparing her a glance as you stormed off toward your bedroom, where your daughter’s cries could be heard. You could hear Billie’s hurried footsteps behind you.

“Wait–” You heard her say, but the plea fell on deaf ears. All you were concerned with now was comforting your child.

When you approached your baby’s crib, you scooped her into your arm, bouncing her gently. After a couple minutes, she eventually calmed down, resting her head on your shoulder as you cradled her.

Billie stood in the doorway, watching you soothe your child.

“Can we talk about this for a moment?” Billie asked, her arms folded across her chest. You still had your eyes locked onto your daughter's watery ones. She was mostly quiet now, resting her head on your shoulder. It took every ounce of courage to turn around and face Billie, but eventually you did, finding yourself unable to look directly into her eyes that were filled with hurt and desperation. Her hair was slightly ruffled from when your fingers were buried in it just moments before. You made the mistake of glancing down at her lips, fighting against the strong urge to kiss her senseless again.

“Sure,” you replied, voice unsteady. “We can talk.”

“Great.” Billie said, fully entering your room and closing the door. She sat on your bed, still staring at you intensely. You continued standing by the crib, holding your daughter close. She was still awake, sucking on her thumb.

“Why are you pushing me away all of a sudden?” Billie asked, getting straight to the point. She didn't sound angry; instead, you heard confusion and sadness in her tone.

“Because I just… had some sense knocked into me and I couldn't let it go any further.”

“Why? What… what does that even mean?” Billie asked.

“Billie, you're so young. You deserve someone closer to your age. I'm a single mother with a lot of fucking baggage and I don't want you to feel tied down by me.” You admitted.

Billie scoffed. “I don't want someone my own age. I only have eyes for you. And the fact that you have a kid doesn't bother me. I'm literally babysitting for you, for fuck's sake.”

“Billie–” you started, letting out a sigh. You cut yourself off as you felt your arms getting tired. Glancing down at your daughter, you noticed that her eyes had fallen shut once again, and you were glad you could finally put her down. You gently placed her back in her crib, laying her down on her belly. You watched her for a few extra seconds to make sure she stayed asleep before moving to join Billie on your bed. You made sure to keep a small amount of space between the two of you.

“Billie,” you continued. “Trust me when I say this. You have a bright future ahead of you. I just want you to make the right choice. I think lust might be clouding your judgment–”

“I don't only have lust for you. I like you. So fucking much. I want to be in your life, and in your daughter's life. I'm old enough to know what I'm getting myself into.”

“But you're only a college student, Billie. You've got your own responsibilities, and I've got mine.” You responded.

“Baby, listen. Please.” Billie said urgently, grabbing both of your hands. “Be honest with yourself. When's the last time someone made you feel this special? Wanted? Loved?”

As much as you hated to admit it, you knew what the answer was. It had been ages since the last time you were in any kind of fulfilling relationship. The last person you were romantically involved with was the father of your kid, and only now that you were out of the relationship you realized how much it lacked. There was no warmth; the two of you just stayed together for the sake of your baby, because you both foolishly thought that having a child would repair your broken relationship. It obviously didn't.

“Billie… I…” you quickly realized that you couldn't give a proper response.

“I meant what I said earlier. I want to give you all the appreciation in the world. I want to be the one that makes you laugh. The one that makes you feel fulfilled.”

You felt a stinging sensation in your eyes, your vision beginning to blur a bit, tears threatening to spill. Everything that Billie was saying – you wanted it more than anything. But you had to make the right choice, as much as it killed you.

“I can get fulfillment elsewhere. From someone else.” You told her, but the words came out with a hint of uncertainty in your voice, like you didn't even believe what you were saying. Truthfully, you didn't.

“I'm sure you could. But you don't want someone else, do you?” She asked.

You fell silent, refusing to give Billie an answer; but Billie knew what that silence meant.

“You want me just as much as I want you, and you can't admit that.” She spoke for you. It was like she was reading your mind; hearing your inner-most thoughts that you were far too ashamed to say out loud yourself.

“What are you afraid of?” Billie continued. “Judgment from other people?”

“I'm not afraid of anything, Billie.” You lied. “I'm just doing what's best for both of us.”

Billie looked at you with an expression that clearly revealed that she didn't believe anything you were telling her. But at this point, you didn't care if she believed you or not. You just wanted her to leave; even just her scent was driving you crazy and you couldn't stand her body being this close to yours anymore.

“What's best for both of us? Really?” She said, and you could hear in her voice that she seemed exasperated, growing tired of trying to convince you.

“Okay, then. I'm going to give you a choice. If you want me to leave, then I'll leave, and we'll go back to being friends. But if you want me to stay… then I'll stay, and we can pick up where we left off.” Billie said, her voice lowering ever so slightly. Earlier, you pushed Bille off of you before you could cum a second time and you were still feeling that ache between your legs, even more so now seeing Billie's hungry stare as she brought up your little moment on the couch; but fortunately you had enough self-control to not give in to Billie's offer.

“You should go.” You replied. The words came out strained, like it physically hurt you to say them.

Billie seemed taken aback, stunned into silence, but her face quickly morphed into an expression of acceptance.

“Okay. I'll go. I respect your choice.” She said softly. She was about to get up and head to the door, but not before leaning in and placing a kiss on your cheek. Feeling her lips on your skin set you aflame, and you wanted nothing more than for those lips to kiss you everywhere else, but once again, you fought against your desires.

She walked to the door, but before opening it and leaving, she told you: “If you ever change your mind, just call me.”

You didn't even look at her. “Goodnight, Billie.” You said coldly.

Billie gave you one last intense stare, waiting for you to cave in at the last minute – but when you just continued staring at the floor, not even acknowledging her presence anymore, she finally opened the door and left, shutting it behind her.

That's when everything broke for you, the tears beginning to freely fall, your sniffles and quiet sobs filling the room. You laid down, burying your face into a pillow to muffle the noise, your sleeping child completely oblivious to everything that just transpired. You felt ridiculous, crying over a relationship that hadn't even fully blossomed. You didn't even know why you were crying– you had told her to leave, and she did, respecting your wishes. You tried to tell yourself that her leaving was a good thing, and yet you weren't feeling any better. Billie had said that you could just go back to being friends with her, but you didn't even think that was possible. You had already fallen for her, and there was no way you could go back to hanging out with her casually without thinking back to the way she kissed you, the way she always made you feel that stupid fluttery feeling in your stomach, the image of her face between your legs, staring up at you like you were a goddess.

That's when you remembered; you were still aroused, even though you were crying into a pillow. That annoying ache was still making itself known, only made worse by your brain making you relive what happened in your living room.

You rolled over onto your back, wiping your eyes dry and letting out a tired sigh. You unbuttoned your pants, getting out of them completely. Your hand then found its way past the waistband of your underwear, where you rubbed your clit with clumsy fingers. You weren't nearly as precise as Billie. You also weren't that wet anymore and it didn't even feel that great but you just needed a fucking release. You closed your eyes, thinking about the sensation of Billie's tongue on your folds and the way she gripped your thighs. You thought back to the way her fingers filled you perfectly. With those images in mind, it didn't take you long to finally reach your peak, keeping your other hand over your mouth as you rode out your orgasm.

You laid there afterward, breathing heavily, your eyelids feeling as if they weighed a ton. The last thing on your mind before you succumbed to sleep was your lovely neighbor, Billie. And to think it all started with her helping you with fucking groceries.

(author's note: sequel?? maybe??? 🤔)

[yuyu1024]

Roommate

Pairings: Yunho × y/n

Genre/tags: first time

Warning: smut/angst 🔞🔞🔞 unprotected sex, pet names, a lot of cursing, mention of masturbating

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 2.6k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: another random drabble i just wrote before i slept the other day. But forgot to post 😅 no storyline

***

Typical. Everyone around you is either holdinh hands with their partner or just basically eating each other's face like you don't exist in their friendship group.

You love your friends, you do, with all of your heart, however sometimes you just want to slap them across their faces and tell them to stop being showy of their love, affection and horny asses while you are with them. They know you are single and lonely. They can try to control it right?

It is not like you are single solely by choice. It's not like that. You also wanted to date. You wanted to try. But the problem is, no one is even willing to try it with you. Basically, you think, you are not attractive enough for boys or men to even look back to you and talk.

Just thinking about it makes you want to cry.

You did what you can to change so that society can notice you. You started wearing contact lenses to let them see your eyes that usually hides behind your thick glasses. You even styled your hair. Not a drastic change but your friend says the layering cut fits you. Then you also updated your wardrobe. You still have the comfy ones in there but you added some basic blacks, whites, browns and nudes color for basic mix and match for future dates.

However, no future dates ever happened since then.

You thought, who are you kidding? No one wanted to date you when you are you so how can anyone date you now as well when you are trying to be 'normal' and same as the others.

"Here is your pineapple juice." San, your bestfriend, brings you your nonalcohol drink.

"Thank you..." you say as you take it from his hand. "Where is your girlfriend?"

"Ah, she went outside to meet his big brother..."

"Brother? She has a brother?"

"Are you even not listening to any of our conversation for the past year?" He raise his brow at you

You roll your eyes. "Oh sorry... how can I listen to your conversation when all I could see is your mouth nibbling her neck whilst your hand is on her boobs and squishing it like I'm not here!" You rant

San laughs at you. "Babe! I'm sorry!" He puts his arm around you. "You know I can't get enough of my girlfriend..."

You scoff. "I know! Like it's not obvious. I see it every week we go out and hang out!" You push him away jokingly.

"You act annoyed and disgusted by us... but when you get yourself a man... you'll know how we feel." He says, laughing

"IF... I get myself a man. You know I'm struggling here..." you sigh, shaking your head.

"Hi I'm back!" San's girlfriend emerges from the crowd, pulling a tall guy with her. "Got my big brother here."

"Hey! Yunho! Long time no see!" San gets up and hugs his girl's brother.

"Yeah... it's been quite some time now..." Yunho responses. "But I'm back... but... homeless..."

"Homeless?" San questions as they all sit down.

"He's moving back here... he just resigned from his job and looking for a place to live." San's girl answers. "He is staying at my place for now... but my unit is not big enough for the two of us..."

"Right... hmm... I would suggest my building but currently all units are full." San says. "Oh wait! Y/N!"

All of them looks at you with dear eyes whilst you were drinking your pineapple juice.

"What?" You ask San

"By the way, she is my bestfriend... Y/N.... and Y/N... Yunho... Her brother..." he introduces you

"Hi..." you greet, smiling.

"So," San claps his hands, grinning. "Didn't your roommate just moved out?" He asks you

"Yes..." you are lost why the sudden question. But then your eyes met San's girlfriend's eyes. "Wait... are you suggesting..."

"Don't worry about him!" She stands and sits beside you. "His work is nighshift so... when you are home he's not! So it's like living with no one..."

"Huh? Wait. Why my place?"

It's not that you are being rude but it is a bit awkward since you just met the gorgeous guy a second ago.

"Girl... just accept it." San suddenly whispers to you. "He have a ton of friends... goodlooking ones..."

"Are you suggesting to let him stay with me in return to find me a guy?" You hiss at San and then hit him on the arm.

"Don't worry... it's just for a mean time... while he's saving up and looking for a place to move near his work. Which is oddly same area as your place."

San is really enjoying this sitution. You don't like what he is doing. You're guessing he is either playing cupid for you and Yunho or he's trying to make you look good for Yunho so he could also help you find a man.

Wow. You're bestfriend is so desprate to get you laid and have a life.

"Maybe her building have an extra unit?" Yunho asks

"Well... my place is more like a 3 story apartment building... the owner lives at the house next door and the two units under me are all taken." You explain

"Her place is outside the city yet not to far to get to." San explain

"Hers is more quiet than my place. You definitely could get your sleep in the morning." His sister adds

"Really..." his eyes then shifts to his sister to you. "Don't worry... I could pay rent if you like... I could share with the food too."

That's fine you guess. Right? Since it's going to be just for a mean time? What could go possibly wrong of having a guy in your apartment just to sleep during the day while you are out at work...

***

"San!" You hiss while you slowly close your bedroom's door. "I don't think I can do this." You whisper on your phone

"What do you mean?"

"You and your girlfriend missed out an important detail about Yunho... before you let me take him in my place!"

"What detail? Yunho is a nice guy. He's not going to hurt you or anything... he's very kind too and caring. He is a decent guy Y/N."

You sigh as you go on further your room, making a ton more distant from your door so Yunho won't hear you.

"Yeah, he's great. Sure. I get that. But..."

"But what?"

How can you explain to your bestfriend that whenever you wake up in the morning to get ready for your day, not just one time but like a few times now in the past month, THAT you caught your new roommate masturbating. Like seriously moaning outloud and out and about. He does not even try to close his door or anything!

"Y/N? You're still there?"

You snap out of it. You try to stop imagining it all over again. But fucking hell, how can you remove the image and the sound in your head? It is now engraved in your brain and it echoes in your ears.

"Hello? Are you still alive?" San asks

"Yes... I'm still here..."

"So... what is it?"

"Fuck..." you hiss. "Nothing....nevermind... I'll just.... whatever. Yeah... I just hope he finds a new place soon."

You say outloud. It's not like you don't like him now just because of what you keep witnessing every now and then. It's just awkward for you. Awkward in terms of..... you don't know what to do about it. The dirty thoughts building in your mind is too much for you to even handle.

You don't want to be a pervert or a freak imagining him fucking you. Especially with the length he got? Oh dear. Just imagine him pounding you and making you lose your shit.

"Good morning." Yunho greets you the second you got out of your room. He just finished showering and preparing breakfast. "I made something quick.. scrambled and toast..."

"Thanks..." you try to avoid looking at him. Not because you caught him today.

He was not doing it today actually but because, the reason you called San in panic mode is becauss you dreamt about it. And that's not okay. It made you, wet early in the morning. Even for someone who is a virgin and only knows sex through books and movies.

"You're not up early today." He asks before he bite his toast

"Ah... it's my off today." You say as you pour yourself a cup of coffee.

"On a wednesday? Middle of the week?"

"Yeah..." you then add sugar and milk to your drink. "Forced leave actually... since I don't use them much and my boss thinks I'm a workaholic." You take a sip and exhale satisfaction. "He said... I should use a few days and just... relax... plus the weather lately is not good so... it's okay..."

Both of you look outside the window and watch how strong the storm is.

"Yeah... it was a struggle to get to work last night and even get home earlier..."

"Glad you got home safe." You say, "A friend of mine at work lost control during his drive... he almost hit a tree..."

"That's bad."

"It is..."

You glance at him and saw him looking at you. You try to smile it off and ignore the fact that he is starring and just continued to look outside the window and drink your coffee. But then...

"You know... you look cute with your glasses on." He suddenly says. "Hmm no actually... I think... you look sexier with your glasses on."

What the fuck was that?

"S-sorry...?" You can't process what he just said

"I'll go ahead and sleep..." he smiles. "Enjoy the breakfast I made for you." And as he walks pass you, his hand slightly brushes off your ass like he tried to touch it but didn't actually. "Goodnight, Y/N..." he says before he disappears to his room.

You thought that, THAT one thing. That morning is just a fluke like he was just being nice and flirty. But it has no malice.

Because you thought, why? Why would someone like him? Tall, handsome, sexy and someone nice will take interest to someone like you? Someone no one seems to like.

But then... a few more weeks of being getting to know each other more, sharing flirtatious gazes and catching him still masturbating. Well, like probably any smut books you've read, it all ended up having a spicy moment with your roommate.

"Y-yunho.... Yu..... Yunho...!" You are out of breathe and probably about to pass out. That's how tired and weak you are right now. "I... I aaaah!!! I think I'm going to explode!" You cry, grasping onto the headboard for support.

"I can't stop.... I can't." He grunts as he pushes himself in you more and more. "You're sucking me in real fucking good!" He snarls. He is breathing hard and heavy as you are. "Fuck!"

What happened? How did you end up like this? Legs spread open, naked and being pounded by Yunho.

"Fuck!" You moan as he constantly hit your spot. "Yunho! This is fucking insane!" You are tearing up but its not from the pain but its from the high its giving you. It tickles you from the inside.

You never knew sex would be this damn good.

"Shit!" Yunho hisses before he locks his lips to yours. "What the fuck are you doing? You are getting tighter and tigher... fuck so good! Aaah!!" He wraps his arms around you, caging you more close to his body. "Y/N!" He calls your name, "shit... holy shit."

You are not sure what you are doing. But your body is tense and reacting very well to him fucking you.

"I'm dizzy because of the alcohol..." you exhale. "I don't know... how can.... how I even..." You stop to scream as he pounded you real hard and you felt it in your gut. "Fuck!"

"Come for me..." he then says before he nuzzles his face on your neck. "You even smell so good."

Right. You two celebrated your promotion. You're supposed to celebrate with San and his girl too but since the weather is bad and not safe to really go out, you decide to just do it with Yunho. Bad idea was to drink alcohol with him to help you to warm up a bit since it's snowing bad outside. Coz now... it got you fucked and still getting fucked up.

"Oh god! Yunho!" You moan. You actually think you exploded. You feel more wet down there. But Yunho don't seem to mind. Because he's not stopping yet

You got pretty close already after a decent amout of months living with him. But tonight, is another level of closeness. The alcohol vamps up both your horny asses.

You being curious about how sex feels, craving it even if you haven't done it yet ever and him, being vacant in that 'section' for months and months now since he is single and busy. So... the combination of that got you to your position now.

"How do you feel?" He asks, looking at you eye to eye

Your mouth is open and breathing loudly but you still managed to answer him. "A-amazing..."

Your answer made him smile. "I'm close..." he says, "Do you want me to pull it out?"

"Pull out? Why?" You whine

He faintly laughs and then kisses you on the corner of your lips. "We don't have protection. We got so excited that I forgot to grab a condom."

Then you extend your legs and wrap it around his hips. "Don't. I want to know how it feels.... I want to feel it. Everything... give it to me..."

"Fuck Y/N...." he snarls before biting his lower lip. "You're making me more horny by saying that."

"Please...?"

"Hold on then..." he says before he picks up his pace.

He thrusts more faster and stronger. He is running to reach his climax. And it didn't take long for him to break since you clench so tightly whenever he hits your core perfectly.

"Fucking hell!" He gasp for air and your embrace the moment he lets go of himself. "Y/N... you are one dangerous woman..." he mumbles, "fuck..."

"I should be the one telling you that... you seduced me..." you says as you softly kiss his cheek

"Oh baby it's the other way around..." he pulls out of you and lays flat beside you. "The moment you came out of your room wearing my hoodie by mistake..." Yunho covers his face with his forearm, hiding his smile. "I lost it."

You giggle as you find him adorable. He is embarassed right now but when he asked you if could fuck you hours ago, there was no hint of shyness in him.

"Y/N...?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I be your permanent roommate?"

"What?"

"Because..." He pushes himself up and turn to face you. "I don't think I'd allow myself to not have a taste of you every fucking day now..." he leans forward to your chest area and let his tongue swirl around your hardened nipple.

You squirm, feeling it from your boobs to your core. Your cheeks also becomes as red as the cherries on the cake you have left on the dining table.

"Looks like... you're body wants to go again..." he teases while he is still licking you up

"Fuck... My nipples are so sensitive plus it feels so good... I think... I think... I'm horny again..." you breathe. Your hips are already out of control moving just from him teasing your nipple.

"I can go again if you like..." Yunho then kisses you on the lips. "I told you... I'm... the perfect... roommate for you." He says in between kisses

"Really?" You smile

"Yes..." Yunho scoops you up making sure he gets more access to your other boob.

"Fuck me again...?" you ask, eyes closed

You hear him smile. "I'll never say no to that."

[divinesolas]

Summary: Your friend was invited to a party and she begs you to tag along. While at the party they decide to play truth or dare and your friend knowing you have a crush on the cute guy from your english class, gives you a stupid dare.

pairing: Ethan Landry × gn!reader Drabble

warnings: alternate universe where there's no ghostface or whatever. I've never seen a scream movie before but i like ethan, oc best friend, cursing, making out.

a/n: not my usual fandom but i was just inspired to write this

PART TWO !!

While staring at your best friend in betrayal all you can think about how much you regret coming.

Only just hours ago you remember sitting on your bed on the phone with your best friend mars while she ranted to you about how much she wanted you to come. "pleeeeeeeeeeeee ease." you roll your eyes, "i don't feel like it mars."

"ugh," you can hear her shuffling through the phone, "just come with me please? for me?" "mars..." "'Il write that english paper youve been dreading for you." "Fine."

You two arrive at the party and you just follow her around the whole time. You notice than is here. The guy who sits next to you during english who you just so happen to have a major crush on. You've never spoken other than him asking if you have an extra pen during class after he forgot his one time. When he gave it back to you he has this charming grin on his face and you fell instantly.

He's standing next to another guy, you think his name is chad? You cant be bothered to care when he looks in your direction and notices you and your stare, his face flushes as he looks down at the cup in his hand. You turn away and look towards your friend whos giving you a suspicious grin. "what." "go talk to him." "no way."

she shakes her head at you and turns away that grin still on her face and you dont like it.

now you know why you didn't like it. Someone had suggested you guys play truth or dare like fucking children and when it happens to be your turn and guess who happens to be the one giving you the dare. "I dare you to..... sit in the pantry for seven minutes, ill send someone into join you." Fucking mars.

You knew who she would send it, "unless you're a pussy." you glared at her as everyone oo'ed. You huff as you get up and walk towards the pantry and slam it behind you dreading the inevitable.

the closet is small yet you keep your back turned towards the door. Its only maybe a minute before the door opens and you feel another presence enter as mars shouts, "Seven minutes starts... now!" You feel a warm body press against yours as the door slams shut.

You don't turn you dont even look before you begin to speak. "Im sorry." Theres a moment of silence, "For what?" Its him. "My friend mars, she's..... She's probably making you do this im sorry." He probably doesn't even know your name and now she has you standing your backside pressed against him.

"No she isn't making me do this." Now this confuses you as you turn your body, you back side brushing against his front and he whimpers slightly as you face him. "What."

His body gets warmer as if to reflect how embarrassed he feels, "She asked if there was anyone who wants to go in there with you." no way. "and you volunteered." you look at him the best you can in the dark as he avoids your face. "Yes."

"Why?" He pauses for a brief moment, "i've always thought you were gorgeous." Your breathe gets caught in your throat. "I've always wanted to talk to you you know since we sit next to each other but i've never known how to start a conversation so when i got this opportunity i just wanted to be near you-" He's rambling so You kiss him.

Once his initial shock wares off he takes your face into his hands eagerly as he kisses you back. you press him back against the door and he hums in delight. "One more minute love birds!" Its chad voice you think. You pull back out of breath, "Ethan-" he slams his lips back against yours, when you press your body against his he whimpers and hums. you hold him against you as theres a knock on the door,

"times up lovebirds make sure you're clothed because im going to open to the door." Ethan pulls away from the door and you two look at each other in daze.

as the door opens you move to whisper in his ear "We'll finish this later." as you spin him around and walk pantry with a satisfied look on your face. "You're welcome you bitch.

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and The Witch~ Dean Winchester x F!reader

Description: After getting a call from John Winchester after no contact for months. The group gets led to a town in which a couple goes missing every year around the same time. But Sam doesn’t want to follow orders anymore, and the town still needs help.

Warnings: Cannon Violence, fight scene (tell me how i did, im still learning how to write it!), arguing, a little angst, talk of crimes, cursing (i think), talk about sacrifices and Pagan rituals (i fricken love learning about Paganism), Y/N gets a little snarky and cocky, use of magic and abilities

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44, @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn

Word Count: …14,005

Scarecrow

(Master List, Prev. Chapter, Next Chapter)

“So you’re with the Winchesters?” Adeline says, her voice just as husky and amused as I remembered. It had been months since we talked, I'm surprised she wasn’t mad at me, though maybe she was and she was just hiding it well. “Yes.” I answer simply, waiting for the impending lecture.

“I should be surprised, but I'm not,” She remarks, and I can hear the smirk on her face.

“You know B/N said nearly the same thing!” I laughed lightly, but it soon died down when she didn't join in instead going completely quiet.

“You should have told me.” She says, venom on her tongue, but I know it’s out of worry. “No text, no call, not even a letter! I show up at your house. Not only are you not there I have to find out from your co-workers that you quit and haven’t been in contact with anyone. Did you quit because of those Winchesters? ‘Cause I swear to God I wil-“

“No!, quitting had nothing to do with them.” I cut her rant off, “Look Addie I'm sorry. I got so caught up in it all I didn’t think of telling anyone.” I sigh, leaving out the part I forgot I had people who cared about me—which is so stupid. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you or scare you. But that isn’t what I called for…”

Suddenly a sharp demanding knock sounds at my door. I don’t move for a second, watching it, “One sec, Addie” I place my phone down on the bed pulling back the heavy blankets. I tiptoe to the door, the rough carpet dragging on my feet. I take a deep breath preparing myself for the worst, I unlock the door, creaking it open just wide enough to see who is there.

Dean stands there, his eyes wide and his hair a little messy, still in his pajamas. A black shirt and some plaid pajama pants, though I figured he might have thrown those on before coming to my door- I knew he wasn’t foreign to sleeping with just a shirt and underwear on. I open the door further, “Are you okay? What happened?” I spew out.

“Get dressed. Dad called, ‘doesn't want us following him. He's going after the thing that killed Mom, says it’s a demon. He gave us a bunch of names and needs us to go investigate. Meet by the car.” He answers quickly. I stared at him, all of this was rushed, we barely got any sleep and we were already leaving rather quickly. He looks me over, nods, and then walks away back down the hall to his room, giving me no chance to ask if he was okay.

I closed the door a little shocked, making my way back to my phone and before it was even by my ear I heard the impatient click of her nails against some hard surface, “Now what” she huffed. Definitely mad at me. “I’ll have to call you back later” I sigh, “I need to go.”

“No you don’t get to just call me—“ She nearly yells but I cut her off again, “Addie I promise I’ll call you back.” The line goes silent for a beat and I wonder if she’s still there.

She sighs, “I’m worried about you.”

“I’m okay” I smiled sadly, yet even as the words passed my lips my stomach twisted itself, “I will call you.”

“Fine.” She huffs but she doesn't sound so convinced.

“I love you, Addie.” I say, and I mean it.

“I love you too. Stay safe, and call me!”

“Alright, just to double check all those names are couples?” I ask from the back seat of the Impala, copying notes down on a little notepad. “Three different couples. All went missing.” Dean confirms from the passenger seat. The darkness of the night cloaks us in its cold embrace.

“You said they were from all different states, Washington, New York, Colorado, and all went missing at the same time each year trying to travel across the country. But is it possible that it’s just a serial killer? Not to undermine your fathers findings.” I explain motioning my pen around as I speak, “I mean it is possible the suspect lives in Indiana, knows the roads well, and which way people go when road-tripping. Then being able to intercept them therefore fulfilling his or her urge. Then that kill can satisfy them till next year.”

“I guess, but they always disappeared in the second week of April. One year after another after another. That’s pretty weird.” Dean points out.

“Not necessarily, serial killers can have a certain connection to a date like an anniversary of something. Feeling only the need to do such an act during said time.” I ramble.

“Well, we’re still checking it out” Dean answers plainly, practically shutting down my theory. I guess it’s safer to check but it’s nighttime. I didn’t get any sleep, they barely got any sleep, and rushing over to Indiana in a 3-hour long car ride doesn't sound so fun if it turns out not to be a supernatural thing. “And this is the second week of April.” Sam remarks.

“Yep.” Dean nods.

“So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?” Sam asks, though it’s clear he knows the answer.

“Yahtzee. Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different obituaries Dad had to go through? The man’s a master.” Dean beams, flipping through the papers he had on the missing couples. He very clearly looked up to his Dad in some manner, even though he wasn’t deserving of such praise. I know Sam feels this way too, he never had an issue calling out John and he certainly can see all that’s wrong with how they grew up. The thing is I know Dean knew too, he was just trained to be loyal.

I watch Sam in the rearview mirror, his nostrils flaring in anger, his hands gripping the steering wheel harder until the knuckles turn white. He pulled the car off to the side of the road, sharply, my body jerking at the motion. “What are you doing?” Dean asks confused, straightening the way he sat.

“We’re not going to Indiana.” Sam says firmly.

“We’re not?” Dean replies, shock and amusement written on his features.

“No. We’re going to California.” Sam answers, “Dad called from a payphone. Sacramento area code.”

“Sam.” Dean warns.

“Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad’s closing in, we’ve gotta be there. We’ve gotta help.” Sam reasons, and I don’t disagree.

“Dad doesn’t want our help.” Dean argues, his voice getting louder.

“I don’t care.” Sam answers rather calmly.

“He’s given us an order.” Dean bites, using one of his favorite excuses.

“I don’t care.” He repeats himself, this time more firmly, “We don’t always have to do what he says.”

“Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives, it’s important.” Dean tries to explain.

“Please stop fighting, why don’t we work this job, put all our energy into it. Work it quickly. Then immediately head to California, both of you win” I offer, always the person trying to cool the fight down and offer some sort of solution. But even as the words leave my mouth I know I’m wrong, this argument is more than working a case or chasing demons. This is years of grief built up. Sam half turns to view me, his eyes are pained and I almost think he might be close to tears, “It won’t be enough. You said it yourself. My Dad moves fast, if we don’t head there right now we’ll miss him entirely.” He looks between both of us now as he adds, “But I’m talking one week here, to get answers. To get revenge.”

Dean sighs, “Alright, look, I know how you feel.”

“Do you?” Sam spits, nearly yelling. “How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?”

Oh. This is old grief on top of new grief, he hasn’t coped with the loss of his girlfriend not that we could have expected him to. It’s too soon. These emotions are too raw, too new. Dean matches his brother yelling, “Dad said it wasn’t safe. For any of us. I mean, he knows something that we don’t, so if he says to stay away, we stay away.”

“I don’t understand the blind faith you have in the man. I mean, it’s like you don’t even question him.” Sam argues, looking at his brother strangely.

“Yeah, it’s called being a good son!” Dean yells. The tension has exploded, the car falling quiet in its aftermath. My dislike for their father seemed to grow ten folds, to make your own child feel like that—

“Dean, that’s no—“ But before I can say anything more about it Sam exits the car. Slamming the door behind him. Dean and I get out of the car following him to the trunk where he unloads his things from. “You’re a selfish bastard, you know that? You just do whatever you want. Don’t care what anybody thinks.” Dean yells.

“Dean!” I snap, “This has gone far enough, you don’t get to say things like that, he’s your brother! Both of you calm down, please.” I didn’t want Sam to be treated like this, not from his brother who I know cares about him. “No. It’s okay, Y/N” Sam says calmly, his movements slowing as he stares his brother down, “Is that what you really think?”

“Yes, it is.” Dean gives a single sharp nod.

“Well.” Sam shuts the trunk, “then this selfish bastard is going to California.” he puts his backpack on and starts to walk away.

No. This can’t be happening. “Dean,” I say desperately, he has to apologize or stop him so they can talk it out. This isn’t my place but I can’t watch this happen. He looks out at his brother, “Sam, come on. You’re not serious”

“I am serious.” Sam responds, still walking away.

“It’s the middle of the night!” Dean yells out, “Hey, we’re taking off, I will leave your ass, you hear me?”

Sam stops walking, turning around, “That’s what I want you to do.”

I let out a frustrated groan, “What the hell is wrong with you both?! Just talk it out, we can come to some sort of agreement or—or reason with each other.” I practically beg. Both their eyes fall to me but Dean just responds with, “He’s made up his mind” his eyes turn back towards his brother, “Goodbye Sam.”

I stand frozen, eyes wide, this is not happening.

Dean grabs hold of my wrist, his hand warm despite the cold night, practically dragging me to the passenger side of the car. He waits for me to sit and buckle myself before closing the door and making his way to the driver's side. He gets in, putting the car in drive.

I watch Sam turn back around and walk away in the car's side mirror. Dean must have been watching too because he slams his fist on the steering wheel, takes a deep breath, and then does it again and again. I place my hand over his just as it connects with the steering wheel again. “Dean…” I say softly, but it comes out more like a plea. His hand goes still under mine, and when I turn my face to look at him, his eyes are glossy.

He does not turn to look at me though, keeping his eyes straight ahead at the dark road. “Dean” I say weakly, letting out a shaky breath feeling my own eyes welling up, “please, stop the car.” He listens, slamming on the brakes, my body jolting at the sharp stop. He snaps his head towards me, “Why so you could leave too?!”

I lean away from him retracting my hand, placing it on my lap, “No” I say quietly. But his reaction made me want to leave, the tears in my eyes finally fell over, spilling down my cheeks, “Do not take your anger out on me.” He sighs, turning his face away from me, cursing.

“I know you don’t want to hear this…but you must” I begin to say, having to pause to clear my voice of its shakiness, “I care for you both a lot but I’m so sick of you guys constantly fighting over something stupid when all you have to do is talk.”

“That's easy for you to say.” Dean snaps back, still looking away from me.

I huff, annoyed, “See! You get all standoffish instead of dealing with your emotions and I know that's what you’re used to but you don't have to be that way around me of all people.” He goes quiet, with no snappy comeback or even a grunt of annoyance. His jaw clenches and I wonder if that's from anger, trying to hold back tears, or both. “What if were destined to always hate each other,” he says quietly, and I know he means him and Sam. “He doesn't hate you, and I know you don't feel that way either,” I answer softly, even when I know what he truly means. He turns his head towards me, a single tear rolling down his cheek, “Then why does he keep leaving?!” he says through gritted teeth the last word coming out as if he spit venom.

In truth, I can't possibly know what he feels. He raised Sam and was there every moment of every day. He saw him take his first step and say his first word, brought him to school, fed him, put him to bed, and kept him safe. I was more like Sam in that aspect, I was the youngest with an older brother who took care of me and looked out for me. Honestly more than our own Dad, maybe that’s why he and Dean got along together so well- a shared understanding.

So, no, I could not understand exactly what he felt, not even a fraction of it. But even despite that I reached my hand out carefully, my fingertips barely brushing his cheek before pausing giving him time to pull away and hide if he wanted to. He didn't. I cup his cheek, whipping away another tear that fell. His green eyes seemed softer then like his anger had diminished enough but still lay beneath the tears. I don't have all the answers, “I know it may not seem like it, but he isn't leaving you. He went off to college ‘cause he wanted a chance away from this life. Even now he is going in hopes of stopping what started this all, he’s going to come back…your brothers you can't escape each other even if you wanted to.”

It's not a solution, and I don't expect it to help. But all I can do is hope it eases something in him. He leans his face into my hand, his eyes fluttering shut as he takes a deep breath in.

In one quick motion, I unbuckle my seat belt with my free hand. He must have known what I was going to do because he removed his face from my hand only to put the car in park, release his seat belt, and turn his body so I could hug him properly. I close the distance between us so I can wrap my arms around his neck, his body immediately reacts to my movements. His head falls to the crook of my neck, his arms wrapping around my waist. He pulls my body impossibly closer and tighter.

His breathing gives him away, his warm breath coming out uneven against my neck a wetness forming against where he resides. I don't say anything about him crying, or anything at all, I just move my hand up and down his back in soothing motions, hoping to ease him.

I do not know how I managed it but after he finished crying I got him to switch seats with me so he could rest while I drove. I've never driven the Impala before, maybe this was him showing me he trusted me even though I already knew he did, or maybe it was tiredness overtaking him. But the drive was pretty straightforward and it was dark so there wasn’t a worry about other cars.

He managed to drift off, which I was envious of but I was more proud of being able to drive Baby to notice my exhaustion. I even got to play music that wasn’t the usual rock songs he liked to play, which I don’t have any problem with but a change is nice sometimes (even if I played it very quietly so he could rest).

Just as we pulled into the small town he woke up, grumbling a “good morning” before staying silent the rest of the time. He went on his phone at one point, pulling up the contacts but ultimately he did not call anyone. “Ok, ready?” I ask, shutting off the car after pulling into a spot.

“Yeah” He nods, his voice still a little gravely from sleep. I hand him back his keys before exiting the car, the pure feeling of accomplishment pulling over me. I drove Baby accident-free and made it to the destination! I’m so good!!

We walked up to the only person in sight, an older man sitting on a wooden rocking chair in front of a café. Maybe it was too early for anyone else to be out, it certainly felt too early to be up though I guess I never really went to sleep.

“Let me guess,” Dean points to the store's sign that reads Scotty’s Café, “Scotty.” He looked proud of his stupid joke if you could even call it that, a dumb grin on his face. Scotty looks up at the sign and then back at us looking unamused, “Yep,”

“Hi, my name’s John Bonham and this is Pat Phillips” Dean introduces us both, and I want to glare at him for using a member from a popular band's name but if Scotty doesn't know then the glaring would give it away.

But of course, our luck has long run out, “Isn’t that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?” He looks at Dean pointedly then at me, “And his wife?” Now I really do glare at him, I didn’t know Pat Phillips was Bonham's wife! I barely knew Bonham was the drummer for Led Zeppelin, only remembering because of Dean rambling about it. Dean looks at me, eyes raised as if to silently say he didn’t think he would know. He turns back to Scotty, shock clear on his face, “Wow. Good. Classic rock fan.” Alright, he wasn’t even trying to deny it, great.

“What can I do for you, John?” Scotty asks anyway and I’m surprised he didn’t completely write us off. Dean takes out two pieces of paper from his pocket, unfolding the missing person's flyers. “I was wondering if, uh, you’d seen these people by chance.”

Scotty takes the flyers, barely studying them before answering, “Nope. Who are they?” Huh, that was a little weird, I would think he would want to think harder about it. I study the older man but his face reveals nothing, no fear in his eyes.

“They’re really close friends of ours, honestly we’re worried,” I explained while trying to test him, if he is responsible and he knows friends are looking for them and hasn’t given up he might crack a little. “They’ve been missing for a year now, passed somewhere through here. And we already asked around Salem and Scottsburg—“ But he doesn't let me finish my list, “Sorry.” He hands back the flyers to Dean, “We don’t get many strangers around here.”

Once more his eyes and face reveal nothing but still something about him is coming off weird.

“Scotty, you’ve got a smile that lights up a room, ‘anybody ever tell you that?” Dean tells him, earning a glare from the man himself. Dean chuckles, amusing himself at this point, “Never mind. See you around.”

I wait until we’re back in the car to say something, Dean taking his rightful place in the driver's seat, “Is it me or was that guy acting weird about this all?”

“Nah, he just doesn't have expressions,” Dean responds. I laughed, “That is not what I meant!”, I turned in my seat to face him, “Okay if someone came to you and was all like ‘my friend went missing and she’s been gone a long time and I think she passed through here do you know anything.’ Wouldn’t you really study the photo and try and think back, especially cause it’s a year ago. Scotty barely looked at the photo!”

He seems to contemplate what I said, “ ‘Could also just be a jerk.” he responds. I let out a frustrated sigh, “Dean.”

“Alright, you could be onto something sweetheart. We’ll keep asking around.”

Our next stop is a sort of Gas Station, all road trip essentials lining the walls from maps to mixed nuts. Aka the perfect place someone would stop at on their trip. “You sure they didn’t stop for gas or something?” Dean asks the older couple working.

“Nope, don’t remember ‘em. You said they were friends of yours?” The man who introduced himself as Harley responded.

“Yes, dear friends,” I answered.

“Did the guy have a tattoo?” A sweet blonde girl probably around our age asks, coming down the nearby stairs with a large box in her hand, her face just barely visible. “Yes, he did,” Dean responds. She puts the boxes on the counter and looks at the picture of the dark haired Vince then back up at the couple, “You remember? They were just married.”

Harley’s eyes suddenly widened making a little ‘oh’ sound, “You’re right. They did stop for gas. Weren’t here’ more than ten minutes.” Dean and I shared a look, now this guy wanted to suddenly remember. “You remember anything else?” Dean pushes further.

“I told ‘em how to get back to the Interstate. They left town.” Harley answers, finally sharing some truth. These townspeople were strange. “Would you be able to point us the same way?” I ask him, eyeing him carefully.

“Sure.”

Dean drives down the long road, slower than usual, both of us looking for anything unusual or suspicious. There was undoubtedly something going on whether it was supernatural or not. But there wasn’t much near us, just trees and endless roads.

We pass by what looks to be an orchard, apples hanging from the lush trees.

If I was kidnapping and possibly killing people I would choose somewhere along this Interstate, it was practically dead and no one would suspect anyone driving here even late at night. My thoughts are cut off by a violent buzzing noise coming from just behind me, most likely in the back seat. I turn to Dean, giving him a confused look, he turns his head to the back of the car looking instead of the road. “Dean. Road” I remind him, his eyes going back where they belong.

I unbuckle my seatbelt, shifting myself so that I was kneeling on the seat. I lean over the back seat, having to drop down low to reach his duffle bag, the top of the seat digging into my gut. My ass is definitely sticking up in the air and most likely close to Dean, but I ignore the embarrassment of that idea as I shuffle through his bag. I move one of his shirts around, finding the cause of the loud noise, “It’s your EMF” I call out hoping he can hear me even with my head still buried in the little space between the floor of the car and the backseat. I grab the box, the medal heavy in my hand.

I lift myself up and back to my seat half turned and sitting on my legs, it continues to buzz violently, the meter blaring to the red. “‘Think it’s the orchard” he announces, pulling the car off to the side of the road. We venture into the trees.

The ground was soft beneath my shoes, a light morning dew still clinging to the grass. If this was any other day or occasion I’d say it’s a rather nice orchard but the EMF has not stopped, and I think if it could go any further red it certainly would be there.

The trees were all lined up, apples scattered about the ground and a potent scent of rotten fruit following it. From where we pulled over it wasn’t hard to find the middle of the orchard, the trees cut down in almost a circle, except some paths that broke away in various directions.

A tall post stood in the middle, a creepy scarecrow on it. It looked rather human and full rather than stuffed with straw. Its face looked like a mask with stitches adorning it and hollow eyes, greasy long hair flowing from beneath his fedora. The only scarecrow-like thing about him was the fact he was tied to a wooden post and had a sort of jumper with patches on it, though the added black trench coat contradicted this. And in his hand was a sickle, what was meant to be used for agriculture only made him that much creepy.

Its head was leaned down, and looking up at it made it only seem like he was staring down at us with those empty eyes. “Dude, you're fugly.” Dean says out loud and I almost expect the thing to move or respond, but it doesn't. “Maybe you should say sorry to him.” I practically mumble to Dean. If it came to life I didn’t want a target on his back for insulting it, or mine if it thought I was guilty by association.

“Why would I say sorry?” he counters.

“So that he doesn't kill you if it comes to life!”

“I think it’d kill us either way”

Rationally I knew he was right, but the thought of something like a doll or in this case a scarecrow coming to life creeped me out a little too much, “Good point, but he is horrifying.”

“Yeah, horrifyingly ugly” He chuckles at his own joke, a stupid smile on his face. I try to hide my own laughing, not wanting to encourage him.

“I think I see something,” He murmurs. He moves back, turning to the closest tree with a ladder against it. He picks it up as if it weighs nothing, placing it right next to the scarecrow. He climbs it until he’s at eye level with the thing. I watch his eyes fall to the hand that held the sickle, his gaze at its wrist. Its sleeve ripped a bit revealing leathered “skin” and a sort of design.

I wrack my brain for any customs or cultures that decorate scarecrows beyond just its clothing and face, but I couldn’t come up with anything. Why would anyone put a design on a scarecrow's wrist?

Dean pulls out a paper from the inside of his jacket, unfolding it swiftly before placing it near the thing, comparing the two. “Look who has a nice tat.” he says, turning the paper down so I could see. He held Vince’s missing poster, the young man holding a mug in his hand the perfect pose to see his tattoo. Detailed ink with all sorts of shapes I could even begin to describe, I look back up at the scarecrows tattoo. The two are the exact same, far too alike to be any sort of coincidence.

“Nice tat indeed.”

We immediately got in the car and turned around back to the town. Something was going on and someone was causing it. Now Dean pulls the car into the local gas station. Turning it off and exiting, I nearly stay put in the passenger seat until I see the same blonde girl from before walking up to the car. We needed answers and she seemed to be the only one willing to help.

I exit the car, keeping the door open as I lean my arms on the roof of the car. “You’re back” she greeted, smiling. “Never left.” He replies smoothly.

“Still looking for your friends?” She asks, acknowledging us both. “Yup, call it stubbornness or what have you but we aren’t given up.” I respond, still pushing the same agenda as before. “I’d call that a good friend,” she smiles.

I don’t think she’s involved in all this, she’s willing to answer our questions when no one else was and she seemed to genuinely care. If she was involved then she was quite the actor. “You mind fillin’ her up there, Emily?” Dean asks her, nodding his head towards the car. The nameplate necklace she wore came into view as she grabbed the pump and began to fill the tank. That’s how he knew her name.

“Did you grow up here?” I ask, starting back up conversation.

“I came here when I was thirteen. I lost my parents. Car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in.” She explains shortly.

“They’re nice people.” Dean replies plainly. She nods as she speaks, “Everybody’s nice here.”

“So, what, it’s the, uh, perfect little town?” Dean shrugs, nonchalantly.

“Well, you know, it’s the boonies. But I love it.” she pauses for a moment, “I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here, it’s almost like we’re blessed.”

Dean turns his head towards me, giving me a look. This definitely was weird, I mean how could every town around them be failing but not here?Were they making sacrifices to the scarecrow? It would make sense considering its tattoo. Dean turns back around to Emily, “Hey, you been out to the orchard? ‘You seen that scarecrow?” We were thinking the same thing.

“Yeah, it creeps me out.” She answers her nose scrunching. “You can say that again” I laugh, “Do you know who owns it?”

“I don’t know. It’s just always been there.” She shrugs.

He nods to something behind her, I turn my gaze to it, my eyes landing on a red van parked by a garage, “That your aunt and uncle’s?” he asks.

She shakes her head, “Customer. Had some car troubles.” That’s a little too convenient, “Is it a couple by any chance? A guy and a girl?” I ask, worried that they might be the town's next victims.

She nods even as her face twists with confusion, “Mmhmm.”

As soon as the Impala's tank was filled, and Emily gestured toward the couple's location, we wasted no time heading straight there. Dean opens the glass door for me, the little welcome bell ringing above us. I walk in first, immediately being hit with the sweet smell of baked goods, the culprit of it being a thick piece of apple pie that Scotty delivered to a couple sitting by the window.

“Oh, hey, Scotty. Can I get a coffee, black?” Dean greets, walking in behind me, adding “And a green tea…actually while you’re at it some of that pie too.” I have to hold back the smile that wants to escape onto my face, he was being slightly annoying on purpose which is proved further when Scotty gives him a nasty look before walking away. But beyond that I’m surprised Dean knew what I wanted, yes I drank tea quite often but how did he know I was feeling that flavor in particular?

He moves to sit at a table right next to the couple, I sit in the chair next to him trying to come up with a conversation starter for the people only a table away. I mean how do you say ‘hey you’re in danger! haha, please leave town’ to someone without them thinking you're actually insane? I am pulled out of my thoughts at the feeling of my chair moving, a soft scratching noise below it. Immediately I see Deans hand at the side of my chair, pulling me closer to him without saying or looking at me.

I try to ignore his strange antics and the butterflies that flutter in the depths of my stomach at his movement as he talks to the dark haired couple, “How ya doin’?” God for someone whose usually so smooth he was being so awkward. They share a weird look clearly looking uncomfortable before waving and smiling. But their uninterest in starting a conversation with strangers is very obvious as the girl leans closer to her boyfriend placing her arm up to lean her head on as if to block us out.

“Just passing through?” Dean continues, ignoring their reactions. “Road trip.” The girl answers plainly, clearly trying to shut down the conversation.

“Hm.” Dean hums his hand suddenly finding my thigh. My heart lurches, my leg twitching slightly at the sudden movement but he just gives me a little squeeze before readjusting his hold. Splaying his warm hand against my thigh, his fingers hooking onto the inside of my leg as he pulls them apart slightly, the gap just big enough to hold my thigh comfortably. He gives me another squeeze as if he was testing the feel of me again…oh god.

My brain seemed to short circuit, any logical thoughts I had turning into a mass space of blankness and static. I swallowed roughly, my heart beating out of my chest and the butterflies in my stomach flying frantically in warmth. This was just for a cover, if we acted as a couple too then they might feel more comfortable and inclined to talk with us, I try to reason with myself. But god when did my face get all warm? Stay focused Y/N, stay focused, I repeat to myself in my head. This wasn’t the time. Can’t be thinking of my feelings for him or the fact that this was only making me feel more desperate for him. Stay focused.

“Us too” He adds, and I have to think for a second what he’s talking about…Oh yes, we are also on a road trip, yeah.

Scotty walks over with a pitcher of something brownish orange, maybe it was apple cider considering this town clearly has a large supply of it. He moves right past us, refilling the couples cups, “I’m sure these people want to eat in peace.” he scolds us.

“Just a little friendly conversation.” Dean smiles up at the grumpy man who begins to walk away, “Oh, and that coffee and tea, too, man. Thanks.” Scotty just stares at him, the scowl on his face deepening, but he doesn't say anything as he walks away fully. “So, what brings you to town?” I ask softly, a sweet smile on my face in hopes of erasing the awkwardness in the air.

The girl answers, “We just stopped for gas. And, uh, the guy at the gas station saved our lives.”

“Aw, really!” I respond trying to sound amused.

The guy answers this time, “Yeah, one of our brake lines was leaking. We had no idea. He was fixing it for us.”

“That’s really sweet” I nod with a smile even as concern eats at me. They were definitely going to be the next victims. But I’m also terribly confused, I have no idea what he was talking about. I'm guessing a broken brake line means you won’t be able to stop the car but I didn’t know it could leak…

“Yeah.” The man nods trying to go back to his food.

All at once it hits me, I nearly want to kick myself for not thinking about it right away. I want to blame it on Dean's hand placement but it was most likely my lack of sleep because I was in fact enjoying his hand on my thigh…

This small town in Indiana was practicing Pagan rituals, and as much as I hate to admit it learning about Pagans was one of my favorite things to do.

“So, how long till you’re up and runnin’?” Dean asks them.

“Sundown.”

It was common in Paganism to sacrifice something or someone to the gods. It was a time where they didn’t understand why certain things happened like crops dying, so they blamed this on not respecting the Gods enough. When the real cause could have been for a number of reasons from lack of water to not crop rotating…

“Really.” Dean pauses for a minute, “To fix a brake line?” He receives a nod. “I mean, you know, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour. I wouldn’t charge you anything.” He offers.

…However in terms of supernatural beings when these sacrifices were made it did work, whether or not it was the Gods “cursing” them or just not understanding agriculture. Either way it did work, the gods answered, and the bigger the sacrifice the bigger the payout which is why they typically did human sacrifices, sometimes even on a mass scale.

“You know, thanks a lot, but I think we’d rather have a mechanic do it.” The girl replies, looking nervously at her boyfriend.

“Are you sure?” I chime in, “He really is good, I mean you should see the level of care he puts into his own car. ‘Keeping it all good even though it’s decades older than him, he even keeps my old car in check.” I knew with every word I was stroking his ego, but it was true. Beyond his own car I can count on two hands the amount of times he helped with my old Volkswagen Beetle, he’s probably the reason why it still works.

In the corner of my eye I can see his cocky sexy grin, he squeezes my thigh once more and my thoughts fizzle out again as a kaleidoscope of butterflies flutters in my gut. Jesus Christ, Dean Winchester will be the death of me without knowing.

“Yeah we’re sure” The girl insists.

“Sure.” Dean pauses, his smile dropping, “You know, it’s just that these roads. They’re not real safe at night.” I guess he figures they won’t listen any other way. The couple exchanged a look, “I’m sorry?”

Dean leans in closer, “I know it sounds strange, but, uh—you might be in danger.”

The man finally snaps, looking annoyed, “Look, we’re trying to eat. Okay?”

“Yeah.” Dean says disappointingly, "You know, my brother could give you this puppy dog look, and you’d just buy right into it.” The couple looks at him strangely.

The bell above the door rings and I figure we don’t have much time left, “Look we aren’t trying to bother you and ruin your day, okay, I’m sorry.” I start, looking back at the Sheriff who had walked in. I lean in, speaking just low enough for them to hear, “But you really are in danger, for the last couple of years couples have gone missing this time of year repeatedly withou—“

“I’d like a word with you both.” The sheriff practically booms. I go quiet giving the couple a warning look both to say to listen to what I said and to not bring anything up now, they look scared and hesitant.

“Come on. I’m having a bad day already, ‘m just tryna make it better with my girlfriend” Dean reasons, I know it’s a lie but the way the word slipped so easily from his lips made my heart flutter.

“You know what would make it worse?” The sheriff replies. Dean releases his hold on my thigh, a tingling feeling taking its place. We got up and followed the man outside then following his orders, he was going to follow us out of town and we weren’t allowed back.

We drive down the interstate, both knowing we would turn back once it was clear. But for now we trudge toward passing by a sign that says ‘Thanks for visiting Burkittsville.’ I check the side mirror, the sheriff making a U-turn, heading back to town. Great.

“Should we find a motel nearby and return at night?” I ask, knowing the couple wouldn’t have a car to leave with ‘till sundown.

“Yeah, you need sleep” He hums. I wonder if he’s saying that because he knows I haven't slept at all. “Unfortunately I will not be sleeping ‘cause I have a very good idea on what’s going on and I wanna research further” I answer, opening up the glovebox to pull out the map that resided there.

I unfold it, tracking down Indiana and then the small town we just left, following the colored lines. “I think if we stay straight we’ll be at a rest stop in about 15 mins” I mumble, hopefully reading it right.

“Anyways!” I place the map down in my lap, “I’m very sure this town is sacrificing the couples to a Pagan God.”

“‘Thinking the same,” He answers.

“Okay, good. Now I'm not 100% sure i’m right on which one it is ‘cause there’s a lot of agricultural Gods as well as Gods of the woods, but the second I can search it up I’ll confirm it.” I ramble, talking with my hands.

“To be honest, sweetheart, ‘don’t know much about Norse Gods except the basics.”

“Oh don’t you worry, I got this” I beam.

I grumble for the fifth time typing different wording into the search bar. I want to scream as the page turns blank, the only words on the screen being ‘No Results.’

“What is it?” Dean asks from where he lays in his bed his fathers journal open, looking for anything on Norse Gods.

“Somehow there is nothing on Vanir Gods and when I mean nothing I mean nothing!” I get up from my bed walking the short distance to his, I climb on it putting my legs beneath me. I turned my laptop towards him, showing him the screen, “See!”

His eyebrows scrunch up looking just as confused as I feel, “I know we aren’t in the town anymore but do you think it’s somehow related?” I ask.

“Maybe. We aren’t that far from Burkittsville” He answers, taking my laptop and searching up ‘Books about Vanir Gods’ but again the same message pops up ‘No Results.’

He types in ‘Books about Norse Gods’ a couple searches pop up the main one being a thick book only available in a college in Burkittsville. “That’s so strange.” I mumble, I mean how could they be interfering with the internet.

“If they can make sacrifices to a god I’m guessing they could mess with google of all things. We’ll go there later” Dean responds and I’m sure he means after making sure the couple is safe. He closes my laptop, “You should sleep, I’ll wake you”

I studied him for a moment, and he was right. I should sleep, it sounds wonderful actually. I nod getting up, I don’t even bother changing into comfortable clothes or even taking off my bra I just crawl underneath the covers of my bed. “Good night, Dean.” But it was hardly close to night time.

He smiles, “ ‘Night baby.”

Dean sped down the interstate, the sun was nearly down and we would have been there on time if not for all the semi trucks in the truck stop not knowing how to exit. You really think it wouldn’t be so hard.

Continuing by the vast orchard, we scanned for a red van parked on the side, hoping to beat them there.

After some more driving, we eventually stumbled upon the deserted car, devoid of anyone. He stopped the car short even as we still had multiple feet between us and the vacant van.

He turns the car off and I meet him by the trunk, he hands me a shotgun, “Go through here, cut ‘em off--get in front” he rattles off the plan as he cocks his own gun. I nod, cocking my gun before shutting the trunk as he takes the lead.

I catch up to him, running at his side, passing through each tree as my shoes crush the fallen apples with a satisfying crunch.

I squint my eyes, the dark haired couple too far away to get there before the dark figure of the scarecrow does. It was a clear distance away, I could bring us there in a moment's time. I’ve practiced this sort of distance before, it was doable, and nothing like the asylum. “Get ready to shoot 45 degrees to your left” I shouted, reaching a hand out to grasp Dean's shoulder. He meets my eyes with a look of determination hard in his irises. I focus back ahead on the target, forcing my energy there.

The air ripples around us even as we continue to run, in a blink of an eye we’re in front of the couple. A loud shot rings out, Dean shoots the thing square in the chest. But all it does is stumble back before it continues to walk forward.

Its head was tilted slightly, that greasy hair dangling on his shoulders, the sickle gripped tightly in its leathery hand. “Get back to your car!” I yell behind me, “Go!” I looked behind me for a split second, they were running and we weren’t too far from the orchards clearing.

Almost at the same time Dean and I start walking backward away from the horrifying thing. I raise my shotgun up, shooting it right in its chest as Dean cocks his gun again. But these salt bullets were doing nothing and was hardly buying us time, “Get ready to run!” Dean orders as he shoots the thing again.

Not needing to tell me twice I shift my footing, running towards the clearing right after the couple. Beyond Dean's own shoes hitting the ground hard next to me I could hear the subtle click of its boots walking the ground. Now I know how every character in Halloween felt as Myers went after them.

I do the thing that you should never do in a horror movie and turn my head to see how close the scarecrow was. It couldn’t be more than 10 feet away, “Screw this” I mumble, twisting my footing again so I could walk backwards as it came towards us. I uncomfortably hold the gun in the crook of my arm as I extend my hands forward, effortlessly calling upon my abilities as I shoot out pure energy from my hands.

The scarecrow goes flying what seems like 100 or more feet, landing harshly on its back. I want to celebrate and get all cocky but this was dealing with Norse Gods and I didn’t particularly feel like getting on their nerves at the moment.

I make it to the clearing, my chest heaving from the running and use of powers. Man, water would be good right now.

A familiar arm wraps around my shoulder, the crook of his arm touching my neck as he brings me into his side. His chest heaves too, “Good job.” The praise makes my heart swell but the sweet moment is cut off by the man in the couple panting, “What—what the hell was that?” He points between the orchard and me. Double yikes.

“Don’t ask.” Dean responds.

We sit in the Impala just outside of town so we wouldn’t technically get in trouble.

After helping the couple officially leave, thank god, we went back to the motel. It would be hours until the college opened so we really just had to wait. We ate at some all night diner before showering and sleeping for a couple more hours. We woke early, I threw on some low rise black jeans and a fitted black & gray long sleeve baseball tee, heading out to grab some coffee before heading back close to town to wait.

Dean had called Sam, placing his phone on speaker and positioning it in the middle of the dashboard so we could both hear and speak. He called his brother on his own accord to talk about the “hunt” and I didn’t dare say anything about it knowing he would just brush it off. The call was certainly more than just letting him know how the hunt was going. “The scarecrow climbed off its cross?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, I’m tellin’ ya. Burkittsville, Indiana. Fun Town.” Dean muses, taking a sip of coffee from his cup.

“It didn’t kill the couple, did it?” Sam responded concerned.

“God no” I scuff.

“We can cope without you, you know.” Dean adds.

“So, something must be animating it. A spirit.” Sam theorizes.

“No, it’s more than a spirit. It’s a god. A Pagan god, anyway.” Dean answers.

“What makes you say that?”

I answer this time, “There’s a lot that points to it, from annual cycle killings to the choice of victims. And I’m sure you know human sacrifices were common in Paganism especially when it comes to fertility. There were even mass sacrifices to even protect them and or help them with wars.”

I begin to speak with my hands again, getting more animated as I get excited, “And according to a local all the towns around them are failing in multiple degrees especially in agriculture, while Burkittsville remains flourishing largely in their apple department. As seen not only through their extensive orchard but their numerous apple products, they practically gloat upon it.”

“And you should see the locals. The way they treated this couple. Fattenin’ ‘em up like a Christmas turkey.” Dean adds in.

“The last meal. Given to sacrificial victims.” Sam acknowledges.

Dean answers, “Yeah, we’re thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some Pagan god.”

“So, a god possesses the scarecrow…” Sam starts, Dean adding in with their usual weird finishing each other's sentences, “And the scarecrow takes its sacrifice. And for another year, the crops won’t wilt, and disease won’t spread.”

“Do you know which god you’re dealing with?” Sam asks.

“Well, there’s hundreds of Gods.” I answer, “But it will most likely align with Norse Paganism which are broken up into two sections one of them being Vanir Gods. From what I remember they’re Gods of fertility, wealth, wisdom and two other things. I don’t remember too much and unfortunately there’s an issue with the internet so I can’t even confirm my theory.”

Sam laughs, “What do you mean issue?”

“Long story,” Dean responds, “But we’re on our way to a local community college, they have a book on Norse Gods there. You know, since we don’t have our geek boy to figure out the issue with the internet crap.”

Sam laughs again, “You know, if you’re hinting you need my help, just ask.”

“I’m not hinting anything.” Dean replies quickly with a fake annoyance to his voice, “Actually, uh—“ He looks at me as if he isn’t sure what to say, I nod my head encouragingly, “I want you to know….I mean, don’t think….”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, too.” Sam says seriously, seemingly knowing what his brother was struggling to say.

Dean looks to his hands cradling his coffee cup to straight ahead through the windshield, “Sam. You were right. You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life.” I don’t try to bite back my smile, he wasn’t looking to begin with, either way I was proud of him.

“Are you serious?” Sam asks, probably never expecting to hear that.

“You’ve always known what you want. And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. And you always have. Hell, I wish I—“ He cuts himself off, sighing, “anyway….I admire that about you. I’m proud of you, Sammy.”

“I don’t even know what to say.” Sam says quietly.

“Say you’ll take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

“Call me when you find Dad.”

“Ok.” Sam responds, though he sounds upset, "Bye, Dean.”

He collects his phone from the dashboard, hanging up. He catches me staring, “What?” I don’t answer, just smile at him, “No. Don’t give me that happy go lucky sweet look.”

“Oh come on!” I laugh, “That was really sweet of you Dean! So can’t a girl be proud of her boy.”

He rolls his eyes, placing his coffee in the cupholder before crossing his arms across his chest, but his face gives him away a light pink gracing his cheeks. “You are a sweetie pie” I declare, placing a hand on his shoulder. He removes one of his arms from their own hold, placing a warm hand on top of mine, grasping it gently to remove it, “I’m not.” he bites. His tough boy act was so cute.

“If you say so” I shrug, the smile on my face giving away the fact that this wasn’t me giving up on the fact he was a total softy. He turns his head away, facing his window, mumbling something incoherent.

I want to start skipping into the library, who knew a community college would have such a nice one. Though to be fair I would say any library was nice as long as it was in good shape. I make my way to the librarian's desk, “Hello!” I greet, my excitement getting the best of me, “Could you point us to the books on Paganism? Or even just Norse mythology?”

The old woman at the desk looks at me a little strangely, maybe I came off too strong. But her expression contorts into a small smile, “One of our dear old professors would have those sorts of books, lucky for you sweetie I think he’s free right now. I can just give him a little call.”

I look back at Dean, who stands a little bit behind me, he shrugs, I guess it wouldn’t hurt talking to a professor about this. Especially if it meant looking at that book.

I turn back to the old librarian, “Yes please.” But she already placed the phone back in its holder, “He’ll be right down.” Oh. Okay, this woman works fast. “You can take a seat there, it’ll be a moment” she points to just behind us at a mostly empty table. “Thank you!” I smile.

“It’s not every day I get a research question on Pagan ideology.” Professor Williams says, as he leads us to his classroom.

“Yeah, well, call it a hobby.” Dean responds, not sounding all that amused.

“Well what are you looking for in particular?” The older man asks.

“Uh, local lore, maybe” Dean answers, looking at me to jump in at any time but I don’t know if I want to put all my eggs in one basket. We had to choose who we could trust here, and maybe I shouldn’t have been so forward with the nice librarian but doing so made getting to the book easier. I hope. “I’m afraid Indiana isn’t really known for its Pagan worship.” He answers.

I can already feel this being a painfully slow lead to the answer, “You know, actually,” I began, “I was interested in the Vanir Gods. It struck me the other day and when I can’t get an easy answer for something I go digging.” The professor stops in his tracts, turning to face me, “Very well. I was not expecting to hear such a clear topic.”

I laugh a little uncomfortably, “I just like to learn.”

We follow him down the rest of the long hallway into his classroom. A small room with desks and chairs lined in order while a large whiteboard rested on the long wall. He beckons us over to his desk, a thick and long brown leather bound book lying there, “Well, let’s see.” He leafs through a couple of pages seeking what seems to be the chapter he’s looking for, “Ah ha, there we are” he declares, turning the book towards us.

I read the first page quickly, breezing through information I already knew. I turn to the next page only to be met with a picture of a scarecrow-like thing on a post in a field with farmers surrounding it. I read out loud the text just below the image, “The Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity, keeping the local settlements safe from harm. Some villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice. One male, and one female.”

I looked up from the book catching Dean's eyes, this was definitely it. “This particular Vanir that’s energy sprung from the sacred tree?” Dean asks, gaze flipping to the man in question.

“Well, Pagans believed all sorts of things were infused with magic.” He answers not all that helpfully.

“So what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? You think it’d kill the god?” Dean questions further. He’s really just putting it all out there. The professor laughs, “Son, these are just legends we’re discussing.”

“Yes of course” I fake laugh along with him, “My, uh, friend here just loves the hypotheticals, you know?”

“I do,” Dean nods seriously. The professor just looks at us strangely. God I really hope he just thinks we’re weird people. “Listen, thank you very much.” Dean says, holding out his hand. The professor takes it, giving what seems like a firm handshake before offering one to me, “Yes, thank you so much,” I say sincerely, taking his hand for a single awkward handshake.

I follow Dean to the door, an odd feeling settling itself in my gut as if something was about to happen. He opens the door and the feeling spikes, my heart jumping at the simple action. What the hell. I want to ignore it, push it to the back of mind and chalk it up to just random anxiety. But I can’t, genuine fear twists itself around within me, clawing at the walls of my stomach as if to warn me. Just as my foot breeches the hallway everything in me screams to turn around.

I listen to my body, turning around as I take a half step back, a large book only inches from my face. A small breathy squeak leaves my lips as I duck, a loud bang and tumble coming from beside me. This was a trap.

Using my bent knees as leverage as well as the attackers stumbling at missing me, I latch on to their forearms pushing up and out still holding on tightly as I lift my leg and kick. My foot connects with the soft expanse of the person's stomach, letting go of his arms at the same time. It was no doubt the professor as he was the only one in the room with us. I watch him stumble backwards, knocking into his desk roughly.

My brain works quickly, adrenaline rushing through my veins. The bang and tumble I heard must have been someone attacking Dea—I twisted my upper body to the right, catching the sheriff's wrist before the blunt of his gun could hit me too. I didn’t need to look to know he already got Dean. God this town was crooked.

I bring his arm down closer to my level, twisting it in an attempt to put it behind him, but he uses his free hand to left hook me, his fist connecting with my cheekbone. I let go of his arm at the action, my hand instinctively going to my cheek that stinged until something cold clinked onto my wrist. I knew it was handcuffs but my eyes went to my wrist anyways just as he clicked into place the other half of the cuff.

He looked smug, as if he had won. He must have been stupid. Not that it changed much but my hands were cuffed in front of me, magic aside it couldn’t have stopped me. I tilt my head slightly, giving him a ‘seriously?’ look before kicking him where the sun doesn't shine, immediately he doubles over holding onto his crotch with teary eyes. I guess you could add assaulting a police officer to my list of crimes, he may have been a sheriff but it probably still counted.

He would be down at least for a minute or more so I turned back to the professor who seemed to be stalking closer with the same book raised as if he was trying to kill a bug. The second my eyes landed on him he stopped moving, I foiled his plan. “Could you stop with the book?!” I exclaim. He seems to contemplate what I said, his eyes slipping from me to something behind me. He was not good at this fighting thing.

Thin but strong arms wrap around me, forcing my arms to my chest. I flailed around trying to shake the guy off, I didn’t want to use my magic yet. The less they knew the better. “Watch, she’s a kicker” the professor warns. “I know” the somewhat familiar voice of the sheriff huffed from behind me, his chest rumbling with each word. His chest was rising and falling fast, I wonder if he fully recovered from my crotch attack or if he was pushing through.

All at once I stop flailing, a smirk making its way on my face, and before anyone can do or say anything more I bite down hard on the sheriff's hand, my neck bending at a weird angle to reach him. He yells letting me go to hold his wounded limb.

I take a couple steps away from both of them, “I’m also a biter,” I muse. I look between both men, neither of them seeming to know what to do. They hadn’t expected this. “Which one of you wants to go next?” I point between either of them, the handcuffs rattling with my movement, “ ‘cause I can go all day, baby.”

They look at each other, worried in their eyes. The sheriff's throat bobbed with a hard auditable gulp. “Aw, don’t tell me you’re scared” I tease, smirking viciously, I was having too much fun with this.

The sheriff reaches slowly for his gun, the one he must have put back after I kicked him. I watch him do it, he’d pull it but wouldn’t shoot and ask me to stand down or come with him. He expects me to be afraid of the gun, at the prospect of being shot which is why he assumes it would work. He pulls it out, holding it firmly out in front of him aiming for my chest, “Get on your knees. Hands behind your head!” he yells. How predictable.

The smirk on my face only deepens, I lift an eyebrow at him, “If you wanted me on my knees so badly you could’ve just asked.” I was never usually so flirty or straightforward, but this was just so fun. I knew I was getting cocky. Maybe I was hanging around Dean too much. “Knees now!” He yells again. At this point he was just feeding me these easy openings. A laugh escapes my lips, I must look like a psychopath.

He readjusts the gun in his hand, his finger scooting back towards the trigger, but he couldn’t shoot, not when they wanted to use Dean and I as sacrifices. “Last chance!” He warns. Last chance indeed.

I catch my eyes flaring purple in his shiny revolver, a look of horror and confusion apparent on his face. A look I was used to, and as much as it normally would upset me I could use it now. The air fizzled around me, maybe I was getting better at this, in a blink of an eye I was right behind him. I kick the back of his knee, the man buckling under his own weight, his gun going off. The bullet hits the ceiling light right above where I stood only moments before.

Shards of glass fall, the light flickering for dominance before eventually going dark. I easily grasp the gun from his hand, turning the safety back on before sliding it across the floor out of the room. Without a plan to actually hurt the man, I used what he gave me, pressing the linked chains of the handcuffs to his neck as I brought the back of his head to my stomach.

He grunts against my hold his hands trying to pry the chain off as his eyes search the professors for help, but his partner backs away hands up in defense. I loosen up my hold, I wasn’t trying to severely hurt the guy or kill him for that matter. “‘Had enough?” I ask, mostly teasing.

Suddenly a soft plush material is pressed to my face, I move to fight or teleport away but my limbs suddenly feel too heavy and my eyes begin to droop. My body feels like it’s falling even as I stand in place, I think. My eyes begin to flutter close, my legs giving out on me. The world turns black.

My head feels fuzzy. My eyes are too heavy to open just yet. It smelt bad, a musty smell combined with a farm-like smell. The ground was comfortable.

I try to open my eyes but they flutter shut again. Someones calling my name, they’re too far away…need to come closer. My head was pounding.

Something suddenly brushes into my hair repeatedly. Even still half gone, fear spikes in me. My eyes shoot open, my upper body jolting up into a seated position. Familiar hands hold my shoulders as I sway, the room seeming to move back and forth, “It's okay, you’re okay” Dean says soothingly. I stare at him, his features becoming less and less blurry as I blink.

He cups my face gently, his fingers barely brushing against my skin. He seems to study me, most likely noting the bruise that is undoubtedly forming where I was hit. His thumb brushes over my wounded cheekbone gently, yet even so I wince sucking in a breath between my teeth. “Sorry” he mumbles, meeting my eyes. I hum, my tongue feeling too heavy to utter a word. “What happened to you?” he asks softly.

I swallow, trying to force my tongue to work enough to answer but my words still come out too quietly, “You went down first. I fought, but I think someone else came. They covered my mouth with a thingy, maybe they used, um, what is it called?” My thoughts felt all jumbled still, fog covering the expanse of my brain. My head was killing me too much to think straight. He practically scowls, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips turned down in a frown, “Chloroform” he answers. I smile weakly, “yeah that.”

I want to lay down. The room was still spinning, my head hurt. This was embarrassing, I had gotten all confident before– feeling invincible only to be drugged. I remove Dean's hands from my face, holding them instead as I place them on his lap. I looked around us, the room might be moving but it was obvious enough it was some sort of basement. No, a cellar. It was dark and empty, except for the straws of hay lying around. And just across from us was a small staircase up to what seemed like cellar doors. “It's locked,” Dean says, noticing my stare. Of course it is.

But if I could just right my mind, clear the fog, I could get us out easy peasy. Almost as if I willed it, the cellar doors creek open. The sunlight floods through, I try to block it with my hand, the sudden light worsening my headache if that was even possible. I need Advil. Dean lets go of my hand getting up quickly, just watching the quick movement makes me want to vomit. I blink slowly, following suit, with a lot of stumbling I make it to my feet even as it feels like the room is pulling me down.

Four jerks stand just outside the cellar, Harley and Stacy, Scotty, and the Sheriff. Harley moves close to the stairs as if he's about to descend them before getting abruptly stopped by the Sheriff, “I wouldn’t, she's feisty.” Dean laughs at that, my assault on the man very apparent by the various bruises he displayed. I would smirk or laugh too if it didn't feel like I was using all my energy to keep me standing. Harley knocks the Sheriff's hand off but makes no move to get closer, “She’s also still drugged” he bites. “Wrong,” I pointed a finger up, feeling more like a drunk as I spoke, “This would be the side effects or aftermath of Chloroform.” All four of them looked at me blankly, maybe I was wrong. I don't know.

“I hope you both know this is for the common good,” Stacy nods. I furrow my eyebrows, “Thanks for the preaching, lady. It really eases the brain into all this sacrificial nonsense.”

“That's enough” she replies rather calmly before nodding to the others. They begin to close the cellar doors, darkness enveloping us. I sat down rather quickly, landing on my butt harshly, “I'm surprised you didn't say anything snarky to them.”

“You were more entertaining” He answers with a half shrug. He tries the cellar door again but of course it's locked, he huffs moving to sit next to me.

I lean my head on his shoulder. He speaks softly now so as not to disturb my throbbing head, “Where do you think this important tree would be?” He was referring to the tree we would have to destroy in order to kill the scarecrow, and it was a good question. “Hm” I hum, “It would be the oldest tree here, probably the most protected. Maybe the first immigrants brought it over here, so it’s wherever they would plant it. I would say in the middle.” He nods and I swear I could hear the gears in his head turning.

The cellar doors open again, Stacy coming into view “It’s time.” I want to ask why they didn't just take us the first time they opened the doors but I guess waiting to die a little later was better than sooner. I remove my head from Dean's shoulder, do we fight? It would be 4 against 2 except I wasn't completely okay. But we could fight, right? I mean we always make it out, we always wind up fine.

Harley and the Sheriff come down the stairs, the Sheriff watches me carefully as he lifts Dean forcefully up. Harley doesn't show any remorse as he grips my forearm tightly, lifting me to my feet before grabbing my other arm roughly holding them behind my back. I struggle against him attempting to step hard on his foot as he forces me up the stairs behind Dean.

Real fear twirled itself around me, were we not going to fight?

They drag us forward deeper into the orchard, I dig my heels into the dirt trying to slow it down as much as I can. I’m scared. I don't want to die. I don't want to be sacrificed to some god. Please. Please. My headache needs to go away, let me use my powers without pain. I struggle against him more, trying to let my magic seep into anything around me but immediately my headache worsens by ten folds. I grunt in frustration, trying to shake the older man off further but he only tightens his grip. I hope bruises won't come from it, not that it would matter if I died today. I close my eyes tightly, digging my heels in further, please. Please. Anything, please.

Harley pushes me forward effortlessly. I don't want to die. Please. Please.

The ground begins to rumble, shaking violently. Apples tumble from the trees hitting the ground with a bunch of thumps. My heart beats wildly in my chest as if it's trying to jump out and run away. His grip loosens on me as he freezes in place, “It's angry at us!” Stacy yells covering her head. I wiggle out of Harleys hold, taking a couple steps away as my legs wobble like the ground. A familiar click locks into place, I come face to face with a gun, “It’s not causing this. It's her” the Sheriff accuses.

“Dont touch her” Dean yells, struggling against Scotty's hold. The Sheriff must have passed him on to hold me at gunpoint for the second time today. “I'm not doing anything” I spit, the shaking ground growing more intense.

“Your eyes are glowing again” he states. “What are you talking about?” I nearly yell, I think I would know if I was using my own abilities. Plus I've never done anything like this before so how would I be able to do so now?

Before I can react he has my hair wrapped in his fist, pulling my head back forcefully a hiss of pain escaping my lips. It felt like it was going to rip itself right from the roots. “Dont you fucking hurt her!” Dean roars. The ground seems to become more violent, the large trees themselves shaking where they stood while everyone nearly stumbles over. He pulls my hair hard, my neck snapping back as he moves his shiny gun in front of me, showing me its side.

My only slightly blurred reflection stares back at me. My cheekbone had a dark bruise painted there and my eyes were–

My irises were purple. No. It doesn't make sense, I wasn't controlling this. I wasn't making it happen, I've never done this before. The Sheriff pushes me forward letting go of my hair at the last minute, I fall to my knees only a foot away from him. The barrel of the gun is pressed into the back of my skull, “Make it stop or I'll make you stop” he threatens. I can hear Dean struggle against Scotty again, and in the corner of my eyes I see him finally pull away before turning around and punching the man right in the face. Scotty doubles over, but before Dean could do any more damage to anyone else Harvey grabs him.

“You can't kill her, we have to leave them both for it” Stacy argues. The ground seems to roar, the earth shaking so siverley I nearly fall to my hands. “I would stop if I could!” I admit, “I don't kno–” I cut myself off, a sudden deep memory making its way to the surface of my brain. A memory of a deceased corn field, a disaster I caused.

“Make it stop!” the sheriff spits. “I told you I don't know h–” Suddenly the gun is raised up and before I could do anything to stop it, the gun hits the side of my skull. My head feels like it explodes as I hit the ground, my eyes struggle to stay open. The last thing I see before it all goes dark again is Dean trying to lunge forward and the ground halting in its shaking.

My eyes flutter open, my horrible headache accompanied with an even worse head-ache. Both in my head and outside. At this point my brain should be a scrambled mess.

My wrists were zip tied to a thinner part of the tree trunk my back rested on. It was just beginning to be dark out. I move my gaze from above me to across me, Dean sitting against a different tree in the same position I was in. His eyes widen and he attempts to move closer before grunting in frustration at the restrictions of his wrists, “You're awake. Are you okay?” He licks his lips, “I swear to fuckin’ god I’ll kill ‘em.”

I don't say anything, my head is too heavy. He's staring at me with wide eyes, fear clear in his irises. “‘You okay?” he asks again. I nod, my head hurts and I’m confused and upset, but I’m alive so I’m okay. He shakes his head, “No.” I look at him confused, I don't understand. He continues to shake his head, wetting his lips again, “Say it. I need to hear you say it,” he sounded breathless, “I need to hear you say you're okay.”

“Im okay” I say weakly. He sighs, relief clear in the way his shoulders drop. But I had a feeling he knew I wasn't being totally truthful.

He swallows roughly, “Can you see the scarecrow?” Despite my heavy head I look in each direction for the thing, until I can slightly see the post. “Dean” I start and I can hear my own voice wobble with fear, “It's not there.” He fights against his restraints, and I would join him in that effort if my head hasn't already given up on me. “I hope their apple pie is frickin’ worth it” he grumbles.

A shadow catches just behind Dean, I squint hoping I'm just seeing things from potential brain damage then the actual scarecrow. “Dean, I think it's behind you.” Forget everything I said and thought, I begin fighting against my own restraints, the zip ties digging into my wrists harshly. “Dean?” a familiar voice called out.

Sam’s tall figure comes into view as he rounds the tree Dean is tied to. Dean twists his neck oddly to see his brother, “Oh!” he sighs in relief, “Oh, I take everything back I said. I'm so happy to see you. Come on.” Sam takes that as his chance to assess his brother's binding before pulling out his pocket knife, “‘You okay, Y/N?” he asks as he works on sawing the bindings. “Dandy” I respond, truly done with this all.

“How’d you get here?” Dean asks his brother.

“I, uh–I stole a car.”

Dean laughs at that, “That's my boy!” His bindings finally break with a snap. Sam doesn't wait for his brother to get up as he walks the short distance to me, beginning to remove my own restraints. His eyes gaze down at me every now and then, most likely assessing the damage.

Deans at my side a breath later, squatting down to be at my level. He brings his hand carefully to my face, gently moving a piece of my hair behind my ear. Something feels dried and stiff there and I wonder if it's blood from being hit or just dirt. I tilt and roll my head away from him, the pain overwhelming even with the delicate touch.

My restraints snap above me, bits of the plastic tangling itself into my hair. My wrists are raw and red, just one more thing to add to the list. I place my hands on the cold dirt, trying to pick myself up but my ears begin to ring and my vision spins. I sit back down again, huffing. Strong arms grab my arm and waist all but lifting me off the ground and onto my feet, “‘You got eyes on the scarecrow?” Dean asks, looking at his brother who shakes his head. “Alright, I can carry you, the clearing isn’t far off” Dean says looking down at me.

“That's ridiculous,” I shake my head, “I’ll slow you down. I’ll just push through, and we don't have time to argue this.” He grumbles, he doesn't like the idea. But again we don't know where the scarecrow is and we can't waste time bickering over stupid logistics.

I immediately regret not taking the offer. My brain feels like it's jumping around in my skull and swishing side to side as if on a boat. I feel like the orchard is spinning around me, tumbling over itself like one of those tunnels in a fun house.

“Alright, now, this sacred tree you’re talking about–” Sam pants lightly as we run, Dean having filled him in on the information we gathered. “It's the source of its power” I finish, my voice feeling far away even in my own ears. “So let’s find it and burn it.” Sam annonces.

“Nah, in the morning.” Dean counters, “Let’s just shag ass before Leather face catches up.”

We come to a skidding stop, just at a clearing of trees the four jerks from before as well as a couple others stand guard. Sam nudged us in a different direction just to be met with a wall of people, we were surrounded. “Did the whole fricking town come to watch us die?!” I exclaim, “Just let us leave!” I was so tired of this, I just want to go to a motel or something and shower off today's fears before falling into a deep sleep. “It’ll be over quickly” Harley says, and if it was meant to be comforting it was not working. “It's for the greater go–” suddenly a sickle is pushed through his stomach. His mouth opens in shock, blood dripping down the sides. Screams come from all around us, and I hardly know if I was screaming too.

He’s raised off the ground before the sickle is quickly pulled out. Stacy still stands there screaming, watching her dying husband on the floor. But soon her screams are cut off too, the sickle going through her throat. Her eyes are wide, her mouth hanging open too as blood not only spurts out of her neck but spills down like a waterfall onto her shirt. The air fills quickly with all the blood's metallic scent. The scarecrow does not retract its weapon, keeping the curved blade in her neck as it grabs onto Harley's collar dragging them both behind it.

Shock had frozen us in place, but apparently not the townspeople. “Come on let’s go,” Dean insists, leading us away.

Morning came by far too slowly but at least we passed the time by using the stolen car to drive back to the college to get the Impala before returning to the orchard. It all went by so weirdly, I knew I was moving but it felt like I never left that road outside the expanse of apple trees. I hardly remember the drive there or the drive back, everything still spun and the ringing only got louder. I think I might have lost my mind.

We stand in front of the sacred tree though I don't remember how we found it. The tree had Vince’s tattoo printed onto it, that was a tell tale sign it was the right one. Sam pours gasoline all over it, Dean picks up a long branch lighting it on fire before throwing it onto the tree. “‘Think the towns ‘gonna be okay?” Sam asks as the flaming tree roars with the crackling flames. “Don’t know” Dean shrugs, but I think the answer was apparent to all of us.

“And the rest of the townspeople, they’ll just get away with it?” Sam adds.

“Well, what’ll happen to the town will have to be punishment enough.” Dean answers.

We walk back to the car leaving the burning tree behind us, though I hope it won’t spread and cause a whole forest fire, “So, can I drop you off somewhere?” Dean asks.

“No, I think you’re stuck with me.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“I didn’t. I still wanna find Dad. And you’re still a pain in the ass.” Sam explains, “But, Jess and Mom—they’re both gone. Dad is God knows where. You, me, Y/N. We’re all that’s left. So, if we’re gonna see this through, we’re gonna do it together.”

I give Sam's arm a little squeeze, it was a really sweet speech.

“Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful.” Dean smiles, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder who hits it away. They fall into a fit of laughter, “You should be kissing my ass, you were dead meat, dude.” Sam says between laughs.

“Yeah, right. I had a plan, I’d have gotten us out.” Dean scuffs.

“Right.”

[shina913]

Nothing | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x Fem!Reader

Rating: PG-15; SFW

Genre: Established relationship; slice of life; just tooth-rotting fluff

Warnings: Some cussing

Word count: 639 words

Summary: Based on @novelbear 's writing prompt: "brushing their hair for them and smiling fondly as they just ramble about their day"

A/N: Yes, I'm still suffering from Yoongi brain rot. Also, thanks to Sim @/itdoesntmatterwhy and her "I want to cuddle with Yoongi" scenario, spurred by this photo. Happy to 🤡 around with you for this! The title is from Bruno Major's song of the same name, also tagging you, Miks @/miksancheese because we both love Bruno Major LOL

Just as you settle in for a quiet reading session, the tell-tale grinding of the garage door opening interrupts you. You remain on the couch, having received a text from Yoongi minutes ago letting you know he's on his way home after working overtime. You've already warmed up his dinner and left it on the counter for him to dig in.

A minute later, you hear the garage door close, followed by some muffled thumps by the doorway, where he takes his shoes off before entering.

"Hey, babe," you call over your shoulder once you hear the door latch click.

"Hi," he half-mumbles and grunts back. It's his sixth day working this week, and he's exhausted.

"I made you a plate, and there's some beer—" you say, but he barely lets you finish your sentence before flopping onto the couch. He gently nudges your free hand out of the way before proceeding to make himself comfortable on your lap. He lets out a long, deep sigh.

You stare at him comically. "Uhm... hi," you say to him with a soft chuckle.

He lets out another grunt, his long hair in a messy heap.

You put your book down and carefully brush the strands off him to reveal his beautiful face. His eyes are shut, but you can see a hint of a frown. He must have had a rough day, you think to yourself.

You playfully run your fingertip over the crease between his brows in an attempt to flatten it.

"So, how was your day?" You keep your tone light because you know your question will trigger Yoongi to vent about how one colleague screwed up and another had no idea what they were doing, leaving Yoongi to clean up the whole mess.

“Fuck, man,” he groans. "I knew today was going to be a cluster, but I had no idea it would be this bad." He goes on a rant about his two incompetent colleagues who should retire to make room for new people with fresh ideas.

As he angrily rambles about work, you run your hands through his hair, gently applying pressure to his scalp with every pass. Whenever he pauses, you ask follow-up questions, and his tone noticeably softens as he answers.

You nod and hum, validating his frustration with his coworkers. Slowly but surely, you feel the agitation in his voice dissipate with each stroke of your fingertips.

By the end of his venting, he tilts his chin up toward you and gently brushes your jawline with his thumb. "I'm sorry. I just went on and on about my day and forgot to ask you about yours."

"S’okay," you say, leaning into his touch. "My sister hung out for a bit before going out to dinner with Jae. I just kind of lazed around after that."

“Mm,” he hums noncommittally.

He shifts enough to reach over the coffee table and pick up the remote that controls your living room sound system. Mumbling something into the built-in microphone, he prompts it to play some lo-fi tracks.

“Aren’t you hungry? Why don’t you go eat?” you offer.

“Maybe later. I’m comfy here,” he replies. He readjusts himself on the couch and takes one of your hands, bringing it in front of him to brush the tip of his nose against your skin before he kisses it.

“Alright,” you giggle before taking your book and picking up where you left off before Yoongi pleasantly invaded your personal space.

A few seconds later, you lean over and call his name a few times, but he responds with a couple of deep, throaty snores. You smile, content with the fact that you'll be spending another night curled up on the couch with him. At this rate, you might as well sell your bed.

Nothing Masterlist | Main Fic Masterlist

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @internetjunkdrawer @itdoesntmatterwhy @yoongukie-ff @miksancheese

[astrok1dz]

Was sneaking through the John doe tag n found your account 👀 I really like your writing! Hope you don't mind me spam liking a bit!

I don't see anywhere if requests are open, unless I'm dumb lmao, so feel free to just toss this if they're closed

Could I request John Doe with an affectionate reader, who likes to rant to him about their interests, but always feels like they're annoying him after cause growing up they never had anyone listen to them ramble

Thank you, regardless if you do this or not, and have a great day! ❤

A/n: OMG YES I FORGOT TO SAY THAT REQUESTS ARE OPEN- also ur request is personally so relatable omfg. that being said.

Doe with an affectionate S/O!

cws: mentions of insecurities(?, pure fluff, not proofread, may be OOC(??

Doe will listen to you talk about anything.

I mean. ANYTHING.

You could talk about cockroaches for an hour for all he cares. The fact that it’s YOU talking and that you chose to talk to him? He’s melting.

But, you’re insecure, and John is too im love to not be oblivious.

He’s a little dense when it comes to this.

Sometimes he’ll listen to you talk too much and he’ll look like he’s not paying attention

But it’s the opposite!! He’s registering everything!! He’s just quiet cuz he doesn’t want to interrupt! He’ll burst into words and affection as soon as you finish ranting

You talk to him about this and how it makes you feel. You feel like you’re a chore or burden to listen to, and that you don’t want that to be the case. Especially not with him.

He will reassure you oh so desperately

“You just- stay so quiet… I don’t wanna bother you with all my ranting. I-I- I do all of the talking and maybe you’re fed up with it and-”

He stares at you in SHOCK. Pure, raw, SHOCK. Is this what he caused? A slight pain hits right through him, to have caused you this stress.

“Oh no no no my love! I love listening to you, your voice is so lovely and everything you say is so interesting, I swear swear swear swear swear!”

He will proceed to recite everything you said back to him. Even if you tell him you believe him. From then on he started commenting and getting more and more involved in the rants you had rather than just nodding quietly.

“I’m so sorry I caused you this stress, I’m so so sorry!”

You hug him, almost tearing up, because he’s just so worried about your well-being and he actually loves listening to you? He starts showing it much better and much more often too, and you just have to stop yourself from crying when he makes little additions to your rants.

“… and then she said the exact same thing I did! So why was it all wrong when I said it? I mean- the fuck is her deal?!”

“Right? She doesn’t own the truth. She sounds so annoying, love. You want me to do something about it…?!”

Your mouth hangs open for a little bit, before gaining back your composure, heart swelling in your chest.

“Just take me out to eat, will you, Doe?”

“Of course!”

I think a lot of people jump right to the gory and killing part when they learn that Doe will do anything for You, when it can also be something as simple as learning how to be a better partner for you.

TYSM FOR THE REQUEST!!! I LOVED WRITING (and projecting onto) THIS!! <3

Tags:

[bitbybitwrites]

WIP Wednesday/ Six Sentence Sunday Dinner Combo meal

Ok . . . Life is crazy here but I noticed a few lovely people have tagged me in past WIP Wednesdays and Six Sentence Sundays and I'm so flattered that you did. Never meant to ignore it - just always looked at it, said, oh I'll do that - and then life got away from me. and I, um forgot - so sorry!

So here's just a bit of a writing dump then as a belated thanks to :

@forabeatofadrum , @wordsofhoneydew , @thnxforknowingme ,@myheartalivewrites . . and crap if I've forgotten anyone, I'm sorry!

Oooh and @rockitmans and @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion , thank you for tagging me today!

*********

I'll give you two bits of writing for the price of one ( for 2 different fandoms: Klaine and RWRB) because you all are so lovely . .

1.) From my current Klaine WIP (If I Can Make Your Heart My Home)

 Slowly Blaine wandered into the back of the room trying to track down his coat, cringing slightly that every person at the event seemed to have the same identical outerwear. “Leaving so soon?” Blaine whipped around, seeing Sebastian in the doorway staring at him. “Yes,” Blaine said tiredly, “I think it’s time for me to go.” Sebastian took a step into the room, his confidence oozing off of him. “Now we can’t have that.” he told Blaine with a grin. “And why not?” “Because it wouldn’t look good for you to leave without your date.” “This isn’t a date, Sebastian. “ Blaine sighed.  “I thought I made myself clear when this night started.  Not a date . . It’s just an. . .” “Arrangement, whatever, “ said Sebastian nonchalantly.  He waved his hands about dismissively.  “Call it what you want, I don’t care.”  Took another few steps closer to Blaine and causally leaned against one of the coat racks. “But I do have an image to uphold.”

2.) Here is the start of a spy fic that's rattling around in my head that would be a RWRB/firstprince fic .

Tentatively named, "Shaken, Not Stirred". This is inspired by a great piece of artwork by @noodles-and-tea

NOTE: In my research employees of the CIA are actually referred to as "officers" not "agents" like they do in the movies. So, right now I have the characters referred to as such - I'm debating to just chuck that aside and go the Hollywood route and call them all agents.

“What in the everloving fuck?!” “You heard me.” Officer Alexander Claremont-Diaz stopped in the middle of his rant, his mouth agape and seriously hoping his hearing had been effected by his recent stint at the shooting range. Yeah, he wore the appropriate ear protection. . .most of the time.   But what the hell? “You’re joking, right?  You must be joking, Zee.”  Opposite him, his direct superior, Senior Operations Officer Zahra Bankston sat, cool, calm, and eerily still: like a viper waiting to strike.  Her head slowly raised from the black leather portfolio she was reviewing.  Her eyes narrowed and her expression . . .well if Alex believed that looks really could kill . .  .then from that 3 second glance alone he would have been eviscerated, the minuscule pieces sealed in concrete and then dumped somewhere in the Potomac River.   Alex swallowed loudly at realizing his mistake ( REMINDER: never, ever try informal talk with the head of your division, especially this department head) and shrunk yet so slightly lower in his seat. “I do not joke.  Not about this.  Not about my job.”

Tagging ( only if you want to jump in and participate): @1908jmd , @14carrotghoul, @clottedcreamfudge , @kirakiwiwrites, @welcometololaland, @coffeegleek, @madas-ahatters-world, @gleefuldarrencrissfan, @annepi-blog , @gleefulpoppet

[youredreamingofroo]

Ya'll... I think I might start a new story, I have a... basic concept of what I want it to be like, and I already have a name (under the impression that I don't suddenly do a 180), I just need to do like... all the writing and make the characters LMFAO It's gonna be a little on the dreary side and dark (which is the kind of writing/genre i aspire to write about, also means I'm gonna have to redo my personal reshade that ive been cooking for like... 3 or 4 months... 😭)-

in the meantime, I might start working on gussying up my navi post (and by gussy up, i mean completely redo) because as nice as it is, it's, idk, a little outdated (i guess), I have an idea for a new theme except i'm either going to a) put it in the drafts and wait til I start the new story to post it so the info is all there or b) make it and then post it and when i start the new story, edit it and put the tags and stuff in for the story.

ALSO might do a name change cuz... this name came from WAYYY before i joined simblr, and its got a charm to it, but i dont rlly like it anymore,, it just dont sit with me the same way that it used to lmao

*(writing this after i posted cuz i forgot to say this - its under the cut and in regards to NSB with the new story - it also kinda turned into a rant lmfao) TL:DR for ppl who don't wanna read my stupid fucking rant: NSB is prob gonna go on a hiatus regardless of if i start a new story, cuz as much as I love it, it's started to feel like a chore and less of smth i enjoy (even tho, like I said, I rlly enjoy/love it) Sorry to my NSB enjoyers out there.

regarding NSB, yes it will probably go on hiatus when making this story bec writing is already kinda exhausting for me as well as editing and NSB has progressively became more and more story-driven than gameplay-driven, and especially after these three days, im kinda burnt out from NSB, i know i just left it off on a cliffhanger with the new baby, but to be honest, I don't wanna deal with another child, i barely get by dealing with the four, and dealing with toddlers> are so fucking annoying cuz of the Sim AI, which in and of itself is just demotivating, i do REALLY love not so berry, i love the story ive created with it, but i guess im just tired of playing the same generation for so long, not to mention the fact that i made it a rags to riches challenge, i know i didnt have to but i prefer to, and bc of that, i havent been able to properly decorate, and i dont really wanna go back on myself, if i decide to continue NSB, i will probably take the RTR rules away since its so annoying to deal with having like, 1000 simoleans all the damn time. Also, i've been planning what to do for generation 3 since catty gave birth, but i had to put NSB on a hiatus bc of a stupid glitch and was only recently able to start it up again, and I still havent moved onto the next gen. I kinda lost the plot with that rant, but basically, NSB will probably go on hiatus, regardless of the new story, I've been wanting to dwell more on Roo and his whole story and the people in his universe and after a bit, NSB has started to, as much as I love it and the storytelling and whatever, feel like a chore, which kinda hurts to say, but its true. Sorry to any of my not so berry enjoyers out there

[onemorecupofcoffee]

/ml salt !!

just saw the new miraculous episode and let me tell you NOTHING HAS HAPPENED THIS SEASON. i cannot tell you five things i remember from this season. it's so boring and i can't stand this show

EDIT: i'm sorry i forgot to tag this as salt. i get why that's important as this show is a comfort as it is for me. also this was just a short rant so i get why it didn't make sense. explaining more here:

the episodes airing out of order (not exactly the show's fault) confuses me a lot and it's just difficult to understand what's happening since this show is so back and forth. things reverse every single episode. yes adrienette got together (i think?? the episodes are so out of order it's difficult to keep track of their relationship) but other than that nothing has really been acted upon. nathalie is clearly upset w/ gabriel but didn't do much yet. of course the miraculous swap has been undone so i don't really count that because it was just another defeat imo. the felix development happened which was cool ig? and kagami? and i don't remember a single thing that happened other than that. my memory's bad BUT i do remember plenty of other tv shows so this season has just been a huge blur. i'm just sick of nothing really happening and maybe it's because i'm so used to being faked out on this show but i really don't enjoy miraculous that much. idk maybe i grew out of it. i don't know. i just feel like we rarely get development except with nathalie and felix for this season, and i guess marinette because she finally got with adrien. but the fact it took FIVE SEASONS. over 100 episodes. and shadowmoth is just. i can't stand him at all. he literally has any power he wants with the monkey and he STILL loses. PLUS all the OTHER miraculous. ALSO HE DOESN'T SUSPECT MARINETTE AND ADRIEN AT ALL??????? he knows that the rest of the class has gotten a miraculous. yes he saw adrien when that fan pretended to be him side by side with chat noir as well as marinette when she created that illusion, but HE of all people should know how the miraculous work! since he literally uses them now! and it'd be extremely suspicious if EVERYONE in that class had a miraculous. and in the s3 finale the only people that were absent from the final battle were marinette and adrien. idk i'm just really sick of this show and waiting for it to become better. these characters have been HUGE comforts for me for three years and have cheered me up so many times. i have had a love hate relationship with this show for quite some time but i think that i dislike it way more now.

[ramonathinks]

I saw your recent post, and do you mind if I rant a little? It's annoying as writers to be seeing that. Notifications are bombarded with that stuff and if you like fanfics, then its okay to reblog posts. Even place it under an organized tag (I do it). It's not going to mess up the 'aesthetic' of your blog, it only helps out writers in the community to get their stories out. Sometimes, I wonder about why I'm still writing but, I remembered that its something I do in my freetime. Or, it could be laziness but that's just me.

(sorry this is soooo late because i seen it when you sent it but i was omw to class so i forgot :/)

honestlyyy im not even going to get back into the conversation like that because two accounts ago, i said some stuff about how people need to reblog fics and how i was going to start blocking accounts and such! and i got called a bunch of slurs and told to kms😭 sooo, even when a mutual came into defense and said “hey well you can actually make a side blog if you don’t wanna mess up your aesthetic” and they were just arguing with us like all Christmas!

But at this point… i just only block blank accounts because even though nobody sees your follower count, i just am so tired of having to block like hundreds of accounts because they don’t reblog, i did that on my last account and it was so annoying. even though yes i want and wish people would reblog more, lately i have seen more accounts who actually do and that’s giving me a bit of some good feeling knowing that it’s way more accounts than it used to be but at the end of the day, i wish people would realize that: this is tumblr, you’re already a freaky fuck if you’re on here, anyone on here, i already know you’re a freak! that’s why you’re on here so stop being scared to just reblog something nsfw

[saffron0v0]

Okay let's give it a try.

It's this

Chocolate 🍫, I love sweet things.

Saff, safy, safsaf and Mina on my discord.

Bad liar. I took a liking to this song.

Yes, I've written a few drafts, and I only published 1/4 of a fic on Ao3, and I will continue it, I promise, I just need a proper creative moment, haven't had one in weeks 😭.

Yes, but I haven't opened it since September, my friends probably think I'm dead (sorry)

Only the ones I got at birth. I'm too scared + don't think they'd suit me.

Their fashion sense, doesn't apply to all people though.

Those extra sweet ones that give you a horrible headache. No, I shall not elaborate.

Cat person.

Headphones

My sister: are you going to sleep now? Me: yes (obvious lie, but we'll ignore that)

Indomi (Indonesian noodle brand) can bring you stomach cancer 😃 (My mom keeps ranting about how unhealthy it is)

Afternoon potato 🥔

My bed 🛏

No

Forgetful, Lazy and Random.

Sweatpants

I never tried Starbucks before (never will #freepalestine)

Neon yellow, it's the worst color known to man (no hate if you like it, I just personally dislike it)

Prized as in most expensive or most dear to my heart? Well most expensive are my gold earrings, dearest to my heart is my childhood box of gifts, it's full of gifts and trinkets I got from my friends as a kid, even after all these years and moving away, I still hold it very dear to me.

Coffee

Mammoth (you're my favourite Ellie, always was, always will be.)

Around half a year.

A device I can contact help with.

Blue. Very very blue.

Dentist, like mi grandfather.

Single, I don't think that's changing anytime soon (and I don't think it's an issue)

A plain baby blue blouse and a long floral (not spongebob floral, some small, microscopic pink flowers) baby blue skirt, along with a navy blue head scarf. I would wear a shawl with it whenever it gets cold.

Idk, I don't think so. (maybe sugar crash, but I'm unsure) OH WAIT HOLD ON. I forgot the fact that I memorized the entire case closed and hunterxhunter intro in my mother tongue, it's my literal childhood 😭😭

A very dark shade of brown.

Yes

No, nothing beyond lipbalm for my crusty lips, and even that I don't wear in public.

'' I like your art '' '' your outfit looks pretty '' '' you're a nice person '' and surprisingly, people keep saying I look very cute, probably because of my soft and round facial features, and it just makes me so happy, it gives me so much self worth.

All of my mutuals tbh!! I can't choose one, everyone is so cool and talented!! If I had to pick an idol though, it'd be demonslayedher, I would've tagged her, but I wouldn't want to bother her.

This was fun ☺️

~ 💖 ASK GAME 💖 ~

📷 What’s set as your phone’s lockscreen?

🍫 Cheese or chocolate?

✨ Do you have any nicknames?

🎵 Last song you listened to?

✏️ Have you ever written fanfiction?

😏 Are you on discord?

 💛 Do you have any piercings?

🐰 What do you think says the most about a person?

🍪 If you were a cookie, what kind would you be?

🐶 Are you more of a dog person or a cat person?

🎧 Headphones or earbuds?

🌼 What’s the last thing you said out loud?

🙃 What’s a weird fact that you know?

🦉 Are you a morning person or a night owl?

🧸 Favorite place to nap?

🏳️‍🌈 Are you a member of the LGBTQIA+ community?

🦋 Describe yourself in three words.

👖 Jeans or sweatpants?

🥤 What’s your go-to Starbucks order?

🧡 A color you can’t stand?

💎 What’s your most prized possession?

☕ Coffee or tea?

🦖 Favorite extinct animal?

🌙 How long have you been on tumblr?

🌴 Desert island item?

🐸 Describe your aesthetic.

🔮 What’s your dream job?

💙 Relationship status?

🌿 Describe your favorite outfit.

🎤 Is there a song you know all the lyrics to?

🤎 What color is your hair?

💌 Do you talk to yourself?

💄 Do you wear makeup?

🌸 Best compliment you ever received?

💞 @ your favorite blog.

Reblogs are appreciated!

[memorydragon]

So I thought I was going to take a day off from ranting about how mental I am because of these gay cops, but nope. Normal levels have not receded.

First of all, I really do adore Bu Chonghua. He's a condescending prick at times, but I love him and I love how Huai Shang lets him be so very wrong at times.

Even when that wrong hurts like fuck.

There's this moment when they're both out of town-ish to interrogate someone and they stay in the same room because it's too late to go back. That morning, Bu Chonghua sees Wu Yu walking around, half asleep and shirtless and completely relaxed, and he realized that at some point, Wu Yu has marked him as 'safe'. And yes, I'm normal about that, but the point is, when exactly did Wu Yu mark him as such?

I made that post about misunderstandings being well done in this plot, but I need to clarify that there are sometimes Bu Chonghua is a condescending prick and Wu Yu is very correct when he's calling acab. The first time I read through it, I was like, yeaaaaaah, Hua-ge, I love you, but you're really being a condescending prick. And Wu Yu was well deserved in bitching him out.

The second time I read through it, it hurt like a fucking truck. Putting aside my personal flashbacks of being othered by someone who thinks you're part of 'them' while being completely and totally dismissive of my identity, when Bu Chonghua tries to draw the line between criminal scum and say they don't change, he was off. He was so off by miles and Wu Yu sneers and says he'll never become like Bu Chonghua because he really, really fucked that one up.

Which is why not even half an hour later when Wu Yu gets triggered so badly he's throwing up his stomach lining (onto Bu Chonghua's shirt XD), it had to be so jarring. Because Bu Chonghua correctly assesses his ptsd (which he knows, because he's been living that same empty life and have I mentioned I'm Normal about these trauma kittens?) then says 'I want to pull you back from that.'

If you saw my post from yesterday, yes I've been thinking about this all day to the point I can't even keep reading because massive fucking ow. Now, if you've been following me for a decent length of time, you're probably aware how I feel about spoilers. Namely, I don't care a wit about them. You can spoil me anytime and I won't care. Honestly, I prefer spoilers on some things (not to be hipster, but I was into tgcf before any of my friends and I would have really liked a spoiler about certain things but had no one to give them to me) and my enjoyment always comes from the journey rather than the destination in most cases. My spoiler tag is a polite accommodation for everyone else, which I sometimes completely forget to do, but I do try to keep up with it. (On that note, I'm so sorry, tgcf donghua second season was completely untagged for that. I completely forgot. -_-;;; ) That said, what I'm about to discuss is one of the few times I've actually danced around a major spoiler, because this one is quite big. I've avoided mentioning it explicitly in my previous posts about Tun Hai, but I'm about to mention details. So this is your warning, I'm about to talk about a spoiler that even I consider to be a significant one. If you don't want spoilers, scroll past and don't click the read more.

Because the only two people in his life who have ever genuinely cared about him and not who they thought he was wanted to take him out of that hell. Because his aunt gave him a name he can no longer use, because Xie Xing came back just for that promise. Because he's been forced to live someone else's life, the life of the only person who gave a damn, because he wants so badly to escape to a place where poppies aren't grown and he can't do that as himself. Because he's carrying Xie Xing's wish that he lives on for the both of them. And just fucking ow, little fish, please stop breaking my heart.

And this is where Bu Chonghua is marked safe, even so close after he fucked up so badly, because that's the one thing he's been promised by people who actually see him, that they're going to take him out of that hell and into the light. And Bu Chonghua just casually says this, not understanding why Wu Yu is stunned by something that to him is just normal amount of caring. Because two people died before they could make good on that promise, despite how hard they both tried, and how hard Wu Yu knew they both tried and died in their attempts. And I'm so fucking unhinged by this.

Because when before Bu Chonghua has even realized it, he's put himself along side what only two people have ever tried in in Wu Yu's life. All of that night, when Wu Yu shows him his favorite 'movie' (this little fish, Wu Yu, baby, why are you like this XD), when he follows Bu Chonghua out, when he watches Bu Chonghua basically take on a whole street gang while venting, only stepping in when Bu Chonghua was actually in danger, when Bu Chonghua is sitting there thinking by himself that Wu Yu deserves so much better, and when he realizes that Wu Yu can occasionally stick his head out of his shell and look around if someone is patient enough to wait (Abso-fucking-lutely feral). All of that time, Wu Yu has marked him as safe and I'm so Normal about Them.

[gay-noodle-clan]

helloooo, so i saw that u have a BNHA dr and u said that u werent a student, and i got really interessed since its different from mostly bnha shifters, if ure comfortable with that. could u tell more about this dr?

Hey! I’d love to clarify; I’ll happily talk about any of my DR’s any time :D

So, to summarise: my two OCs for my BNHA DR are my children in this DR, and I am their silly medieval parent trying to understand why my son said he’s a femboy and why my other son said that he likes TokTik.

More under the cut, but please be warned, I kinda went off on a lore rant; I’m sorry!

So, in my BNHA DR, I have two OCs, Kolka and Aros (yes their names are silly; I have legitimate reasons though, I promise). I don’t have any art, but Kolka and Aros are twins, and are my definition of chimaeras, which are half Kienrif (my home-brew shapeshifters) and half human, traditionally, and tend to have “splotchy” colouring that isn’t found naturally. I haven’t decided who their dad is yet, but I’m their mom in this DR.

So, I’ve made a post about it before, but my DR self is a (formerly) 1500 year old elf, but in this DR, it isn’t a former thing. My DR self is the elven equivalent of 40 years old and a single parent to two rambunctious kittens. In all of my DRs where I’m this character, they essentially get isekai’d to where they end up in the DR from their original reality (it’s basically shifting for them but like,,, he’s grouchy).

However, in my BNHA DR, a cataclysmic event happens: there’s a mass murder of Kienrif, entering genocidal territories through feeding Rowan berries to as many wild animals as possible, destroying the Kienrif food source since anything to do with the rowan trees are extremely toxic to Kienrif (this is because the god that created them is allergic).

ANYWAYS. TANGENT. Kolka and Aros are brought to the world of BNHA through what’s called an auyura, or a fae’s gate, which is supposedly their parent’s (me) last act before dying with the rest of their people, in a desperate attempt to keep his precious babies alive.

So these dudes, they’re just,,, vibing. Little medieval kitties that look and act like people but would maul you if given the chance. Think like, Floyd and Jade Leech from Twisted Wonderland but somehow even more chaotic and silly.

Kolka is kinda dumb, and loves getting into mischief. Aros is equally mischievous, but he’s smarter, and tries to be responsible. They’re usually a tag team though. Kolka has black hair and darker skin but has vitiligo and random white splotches in his hair, as well as heterochromia, with his left eye being dark brown while the other is extremely pale blue. Aros is… somehow a ginger, with some matching white spots in his hair similar to his brother, and yellow-ish eyes. They’re both tiger shapeshifters, but are also visible chimaeras due to this unusual and unnatural colouring pattern they both share.

BUT ANYWAYS I’m not dead. Mostly because I’m ✨ s p e c i a l ✨ but I have a coyote demon named Aeldiet who is basically my absolute best buddy and is the greatest dude ever (technically also a Kienrif but generally sticks to a coyote form). But he essentially murders a fae just to take their magic and get us the heck out of the murder land.

So now I’m a silly old man who’s trying to figure out this whole “modern-day” thing but my kids seem to have adjusted and I am very lost and also—

I forgot to mention it but my DR self is completely blind. I’m aware that this is an odd choice, but originally my DR self was an OC for a book, and it feels wrong for me to change the character simply because it doesn’t match an aesthetic. It’s the same way I choose to still have my DR self be trans; even though I could script myself as cisgender, I want to stay true to the character that I want to be, and I know this is an odd, potentially controversial thing, but it’s how I am going to be doing this. And no, I won’t be having any “magic fixes” for being blind. That’s not something I’m comfortable with.

—

Anyways this has become absolutely not at all what you asked about, and I am very sorry for that.

[mrgladstonegander]

#if someone has better comics memory than me tho PLEASE add on!! #<- My time has Come #gladstone has been commonly portrayed as superstitious in quite a few comics! even in barks era he was shown to be so #for example in luck of the north he reads a horoscope that says he was born under a lucky star and thats why hes so lucky. #outside showing his superstitious nature this comic also doubles as barks reasoning for gladdys luck #rosa came after barks and with him came the big gladdy luck origin story! aka the sign of the triple distelfink #so for the barks/rosa chart the inheritance factor is a yes for rosa and a no for barks

#id also say rosas gladstone is more chill than barks gladstone. less of a total asshole.#that being said he is on better terms with scrooge. motions to nobodys business for example. #id argue it might be better than their dt17 relationship tbh. scrooge still openly criticizes glads luck plenty #and brings out his hard work talk as well. but he does see glad as a possible heir and does seem to care about him somewhere in there #and given gladdy literally asks a cop to put a bounty on a beagle boy so his luck can assist scrooge (a little something special) #id say theres no real bad blood between the two. they do care about each other at the end of the day. #not that they dont care about eachother in dt17! but after reading the solving mysteries and rewriting histories book #and seeing that frank confirmed it was canon. im admittedly a bit bitter. but thats a rant for another day.

#his relationship with donald isnt much better though. that being said id honestly argue its because donald hates him so much. #he seems to be chill with donald unless don provokes him. which he does. often. which scrooge actually points out in triple distelfink #actually with the bounty thing. id argue rosas gladstone is more competent when it comes to his luck. he clearly knows what it can do. #like he actively tricked his luck into helping his uncle by having him win something in return. #and he doesnt even care about the reward money. he tells the cop theres no rush when he says he doesnt have all the cash at that time #the orphan thing was technically never confirmed or denied by rosa. same with the adoption. #though barks also got confused and didnt include it in his second family tree so who knows man#him being matildas adopted kid would explain why scrooge sees him as an heir a lot better though. sooo shrugs. ish works there.

#he did technically survive with bad luck birthdays for a while but like. just barely.#oh and back to superstitions because i forgot earlier. he has lucky charms in a couple of barks comics. so yeah he knows some stuff.#i might be forgetting somethings but for now i think i covered it all#oh final note actually: can i tack on a dt87 gladdy one? he gets so little screentime but i love him so much...my silly goose boy...#also sorry about the wall of tags. i got a bit carried away ha. hopefully it helps fill some holes at least?

amazing tags from @redwingbirb !!!! thank you so much 😭🙏💖i definitely need to check out more of rosa's gladstone!!

and of course please add dt87 gladstone ! i really like him too

okay everyone.... i was thinking about how different gladstone gander is across his different versions so i made a Chart to help. sort out the differences...

notes: please tell me to add things if im forgetting something there isn't a separate thing for his intelligence because his survival rate is directly correlated with how smart he is

some examples. the second one probably has some wrong things as a result of 1) not remembering the writer of the comic 2) low sample size lol

[thepoisonroom]

can people PLEASE stop writing articles and making videos about "classic pieces everyone needs in their wardrobe" your experiences are not universal!!!!!