#never really think about how incredibly weird it looks sometimes

[craneboys]

silly little guys

[dyketennant]

oh i can already tell i’m about to have some really unpopular opinions about the edge of sleep tv show

[pzos-amiserableidiot]

was watching tiktok and a video had the song michael in the bathroom playing and I was vicerally reminded of being in middle and high school and mom always mentioning how much I looked like my dad (his name is michael) and how I slowly was able to start noticing it too and whenever I sang the song it reminded me of him and I felt like we were overlapping too often felt like id never be anyone but a shadow or his mirror and then i began learning i was trans and now the song makes me think of him even more (he’s not a bad dad he tells me he’s proud of me and stuff there’s just two really big moments he unknowingly failed and one long continuous one but he loves me and he’s proud and he supports me and he didn’t mean it and ive learned to make that enough) and the weird flashback I got when I heard that song and overlapping with his face and how if I transitioned I almost fear I’d be his clone and yeah Anywyas banger song

[chaoticallyfluffy]

I’ve been forced into reading Danny phantom fanfics because I’m desperate for Billy Batson content and for some reason half the stuff on ao3 is crossover stuff so I guess I like Danny phantom now?? Kind of?? I haven’t watched it and I don’t plan on it but I really like the idea of it.

Anywho,

Billy has maintained a very delicate balance of half truths and lies of ommision over the years to protect his identity as a literal child. He uses facts he learned from his patrons and his interest and knowledge in history, specifically Ancient Greece, to convince people he’s ancient.

Then one day this ghost guy joins the league claiming to be incredibly old as well except he just goes around straight up lying about stuff, saying whatever the hell he feels like about the past if it’s convenient to him or just funny. Most of it contradicts with the story Billy has been delicately weaving over the years and he’s kind of panicking.

One day he confronts the ghost guy and is like “I know your not actually ancient but I’m not a snitch, how old are you?”

And Danny kind of feels bad about pretending to be ancient in front of someone who has literally been around since at least Ancient Greece and confesses that he’s 14. Captain Marvel stares at him for a few minutes before breaking out in a big grin and transforming into a 12 year old Billy. They instantly become inseparable.

You’d think that Billy would ask Danny to stop lying all the time because it’s gonna get them caught, but no, he thinks it’s hilarious. Now whenever Danny says something absurd or directly contradictory of the actual history that Billy told them, they’re just like “oh yeah both of those happened at the same time but all the scribes were at the same spot so no one wrote about the other one and it was lost to time” or “there was a time loop for a good few years back in good old Greece so a lot of weird things happened that just didn’t stick.” Or “that did happen but only ghosts could perceive it.” Or sometimes, if they absolutely cannot get away with any other explanation, “dang must have dreamt it!”

The league is hopelessly confused and 90% sure they’re being messed with but they have no proof and if they look at the history at least MOST of the stuff they say is true so there’s really no reason to doubt it when Danny claims he once fist fought the god of time while the entirety of Rome cheered for him and placed bets, especially when Billy nods sagely and says he remembers having to clean up the space time continuum after the fight and that he lost the modern equivalent of ten bucks in the bet (he still doesn’t lie, just doesn’t disagree with the blatant dishonesty. He honestly did have to clean up the space time continuum multiple times after Danny messes with time a bit too much thanks to Clockwork + shenanigans. They make bets all the time too lol)

I think the contrast between ‘never lies’ and ‘lies all the time for funsies’ with the same motivation of ‘do the funniest thing possible at all times’ can be extremely entertaining and interesting.

[twilightkitkat]

Do yall ever think about how Logan would be a messy eater? How his first instinct would be to use his hands and sharp teeth instead of utensils?

He'd probably been admonished before for having bad table manners. But using a fork was like being able to walk fine and still being forced to use crutches. It was doable, but unnecessary and unnatural when he already had claws that were an extension of himself.

He became more self-conscious about his eating habits. He knew that it looked gruesome, seeing him gnaw and tear at a piece of meat like a dog. It was uncivilized. Vulgar.

So he tried to "eat normally." To sit up straight and hold his knife and fork at the right angle. He didn't necessarily like it, and to him was just a useless custom, but he did it. Even if he never really enjoyed meals when he had to painfully control and curb all his habits, watching for the slightest hint of discomfort on others' faces.

When he was outcasted by society, he didn't have to worry about that anymore. Nobody would want to eat with a monster like him anyway. So he let himself give into his instincts, to eat like he was a wild animal tearing into his meal.

It was relieving, in a way, to finally be able to eat like he wanted. But part of him felt guilty. Like he was wrong, inhumane, monstrous just like they said.

Oh well. He already accepted that he was a monster, what's another bullet point on the long list or reasons he can't be a functioning member of society.

That was his attitude until he met Wade.

He felt uncomfortable at first, unused to eating around another person after becoming accustomed to eating alone. To not having to watch for other people's reactions.

But Wade... never looked at him judgementally. Hell, he wasn't super neat himself, playing with his food and showing off weird shapes he made on his plate to Logan.

So Logan let his guard down. He stopped being as neat and proper when he ate. Stopped using a fork stiffly and suppressing his urges.

The first time Logan skewered a meatball with his claw instead of a fork, Wade didn't even blink. He didn't look uncomfortable or disturbed. He just leaned in closer and asked for Logan to feed him one, saying that it was always a dream of his to eat from Wolvie's hands (or claws).

(Logan did, in fact, let Wade lean in and eat a meat ball from his claw. He tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling in his chest at the sight.)

He started eating how he wanted. Grabbing the steak whole and tearing off chunks with his teeth instead of cutting it up into little slices. Wade never minded. Hell, he seemed to get enjoyment from seeing Logan eat well, judging by how he cooed at him.

(It made Logan flustered when Wade crooned about how adorable he looked eating. When he grinned and said he was happy Logan liked the food, because he has more where that came from.

Wade seemed to be happy watching him eat. Watching him tear into his food like an animal. Because that meant Logan felt comfortable around him and that he was enjoying himself and the meal.

Logan never had someone look at him like that, before. With satisfaction and pride as he tore into the food Wade cooked for him.)

Eventually, Logan just let go of all pretenses. Sometimes he wouldn't even use a plate. He'd eat however he wanted and savor the taste of blood. It scratched a deep animalistic urge inside of him. Sometimes, he'd even chew on the bone, liking the feeling as it crunched between his teeth.

It was nice. Incredibly nice, even. To be able to eat without restraint, without being self-conscious, while with someone else. To not have to be alone to enjoy a meal. It made him feel warm to eat with Wade, who chattered on as if Logan wasn't devouring an entire rotisserie chicken, bones and all.

Logan always had to pick between being around people and being himself. He either ate without satisfaction, restraining himself, or ate at an empty table. (The loneliness ate at him. Knowing that nobody could look at him how he was and still care. Knowing that he had to hide and act and restrain himself to keep people around. It was exhausting.)

Now, he could finally enjoy a meal with his new family. Who didn't try to change him or expect him to be different than he was. Who accepted all parts of him, animalistic or not.

When Wade finished cleaning the chicken off his wings, he pushed his plate with the remaining bones to Logan. Logan grinned, a feral thing, and then dug in.

He'd never felt more seen.

[musashi]

aai2's english translation has done an amazing thing in furthering franziska's juvenile tendency to address people she's close with like she's a child.

here are some facts about franziska:

she addresses nearly every single person she meets aggressively formally and professionally. firstname lastname. sometimes, mr. or ms. firstname lastname. other characters point this out. it's weird, clunky, and a quirk specific to her.

franziska is obsessed with appearing more grown up and professional than she is.

despite her dedication to this facade, she cannot break the INCREDIBLY JUVENILE habit of calling her murderous, long-dead father "papa."

(it pisses me off when people erase this about her. she only ever calls him "my father," twice in canon. he is almost ALWAYS "papa")

to the contrary, franziska does not seem ashamed/embarrassed about this tendency at all, even though she seems very embarrassed about other childlike things she thinks/feels/does.

until aai2 this was exclusive to manfred... but it is now canon that she does it to anyone she considers family, or close to family.

in the fan translation, blaise teases her about being a little girl and calling him "unky boo boo" once upon a time. in the official translation, franziska still calls him uncle in the present day. her first inclination is to call him uncle winner, wholly informal, absolute (pun) whiplash.

okay, cute, but probably not worth noting... AND THEN SHE'S OUT HERE CALLING HILDA "GRAMMA" AS WELL. one thing about me is that when i was TODAY i learned about her having some optional dialogue that alludes to the two of them knowing each other.

(i could go ON about how manfred must have loved her so much more than we see in canon--how often did she insist upon coming along with hm? how often did he find himself unable to say no to her big sparkling eyes? hilda does not say "that's franziska" hilda says "that's von karma's little girl!" which means hilda knows her through manfred. every single person who spent any amount of time around manfred von karma in his heyday knows franziska, which means that she was following her papa around like a little duckling, and he loved her enough to make space for her at his back)

my fave thing they do with franziska is the little hints that her facade is just that. too many of them spoil the subtlety, of course, but they are there--the flavour text about her shaking and looking scared the two times she's a victim of gun violence and thinks no one's looking. the hints here and there that she has a terrible sweet tooth she's trying to control. the meltdown at the end of JFA. and "papa." these are all little ways that the writing nudges us and says franziska is a professional, but she's also quite young, and never really let herself be a kid. she does a great job at hiding most of it, but these little tendencies leak out here and there.

by giving her two more people in life she does this to, it's no longer just that papa is Special Enough that he gets the same treatment from a 3 year old franziska as a 30 year old franziska. no, she does that to everyone she grew up looking up to, any odd work friend that manfred brought around or let her pester.

adorable. absolutely adorable.

[infiniteglitterfall]

I do realize this is a real niche post but I cannot tell you how many damn times over the past 10 months I've seen gentiles tell Jews some version of, "Your own holy book SAYS God doesn't want you to have a country yet!"

And it's such an incredibly blatant and weirdly specific tell that they're not part of something that grew from progressive grassroots, but something based on right-wing astroturfing.

1. Staying in your own lane is a pretty huge progressive principle.

Telling people in another group that their deity said they couldn't do X is, I think, as far as you can get from your own lane.

2. It's also very clearly Not In Your Own Lane because I've never seen anyone actually be able to EITHER quote the passage they're thinking of, OR cite where it is.

It's purely, "I saw somebody else say this, and it seemed like it would make me win the debate I wasn't invited to."

3. It betrays a complete ignorance of Jewish culture and history.

Seriously? You don't know what you're referencing, its context, or even what it specifically says, but you're... coming to a community that reads and often discusses the entire Torah together each year, at weekly services... who have massive books holding generations of debate about it that it takes 7 years to read, at one page per day....

And saying, "YOUR book told you not to!"

I've been to services where we discussed just one word from the reading the whole time. The etymology. The connotations. The use of it in this passage versus in other passages.

And then there is the famous saying, "Ask two Jews, get three opinions." There is a culture of questioning and discussion and debate throughout Judaism.

You think maybe, in the decades and decades of public discussion about whether to buy land in Eretz Yisrael and move back there; whether it should keep being an individual thing, or keep shifting to intentional community projects; what the risks were; whether it should really be in Argentina or Canada or someplace instead; how this would be received by the Jews and gentiles already there, how to respect their boundaries, how to work with them before and during; and whether ending up with a fuckton of Jews in one place might not be exactly as dangerous for them as it had always been everywhere else....

You think NOBODY brought up anything scriptural? Nobody looked through the Torah, the Nevi'im, the Ketuvim, or the Talmud for any thoughts about any of this?? It took 200 years and some rando in the comments to blow everyone's minds???

4. It relies on an unspoken assumption that people can and should take very literal readings of religious texts and use them to control others.

And a sense of ownership and power over those texts, even without any accompanying knowledge about what they say.

It's kind of a supercessionist know-it-all vibe. It reads like, "I know what you should be doing. Because even if I'm not personally part of a fundamentalist branch of a related religion, the culture I'm rooted in is."

Bonus version I found when I was looking for an example. NOBODY should do this:

There are a lot of people who pull weird historical claims like "It SAYS Abraham came from Chaldea! That's Iraq!"

Like, first of all, a group is indigenous to a land if it arose as a people and culture there, before (not because of) colonization.

People aren't spontaneously spawning in groups, like "Boom! A new indigenous people just spawned!!"

People come from places. They go places. Sometimes, they gel as a new community and culture. Sometimes, they bop around for a while and eventually assimilate into another group.

Second: THE TORAH IS NOT A HISTORY TEXTBOOK OMFG.

It's an oral history, largely written centuries after the fact.

There is a TON of historical and archaeological research on when and where the Jewish culture originated, how it developed over time, etc. It's extremely well-established.

Nobody has to try to pull what they remember from Sunday school for this argument.

[coupsie-daisies]

Kinktober '24: Phone Sex | Song Mingi

Pairing: Song Mingi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT) interact

Summary: Mingi has never wanted to make things weird between him and his best friend, but it's hard to deny her when she calls him, drunk and horny and begging him to talk her through it

WC: 2.3k

Warnings: drunk sex (kinda), they're both down so bad, nipple play for two seconds, open ending kinda

A/N: Guys, listen...I will have this shit done by the end of the year if it kills me. But I've had a lot going on so please accept this as my apology

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @walkxthexmoon // @aesteraceae // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1-blog

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

Kinktober '24 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any platform is prohibited

Desperation was something you were very familiar with in many many ways. There was the desperation you felt when trying out for the dance team back in middle school, the way it had driven you to push yourself so hard you sprained your ankle. The desperation you'd felt during that entire recovery just to get back to normal so you could chase your dream again. The desperation you'd felt while applying for your dream university, and the desperation you'd felt when trying to find a decent job after you graduated.

Throughout every single one of those moments, Mingi had been at your side. You'd been best friends since you were kids, and you'd learned early on that you could count on him for anything. Truthfully, you sometimes felt like Mingi was too good to spend time with you. He was so kind and so creative and so goddamn talented that it almost hurt. But no amount of thinking changed the fact that he wanted to stick by your side.

Unfortunately, that also meant that he was the one to carry you home when you got a little too drunk at the bar you and your friends went out to. You were celebrating a birthday in the group, and you weren't the only one to get carried away, but all night Mingi had been keeping a careful eye on you, knowing that you were a lightweight no matter how much you denied it.

He'd dropped you off at your apartment after all was said and done, bringing you water and a snack and only leaving an hour later once he was certain you would be okay. Even so, he made you pinky swear to call him if you needed him for anything.

And really, you hadn't planned on calling him. You weren't so drunk that you couldn't see straight or that you were puking your guts out. You were just dizzy, and way less uptight than you usually were. Okay, maybe you weren't thinking right, because all you'd been able to think about since Mingi had practically carried you home was how good it felt to be wrapped up in his arms, and how pretty he looked when he was so focused on taking care of you.

It was far from the first time you'd had such thoughts about your best friend, but you figured that was probably normal for anyone with a super hot, incredibly kind, really very hot best friend. It was okay, you reminded yourself, because those thoughts were between you and your bed. Nobody else needed to know, and if nobody knew it couldn't make things weird.

But the lingering alcohol in your mind had you forgetting that mantra, because it wasn't even fifteen minutes later before arousal was flooding your senses and your hand found your phone.

It rang a couple of times, and a moment of doubt tried to seep in, but it was quickly shut out by the sound of Mingi's voice.

"Are you okay?" He asked immediately.

"I'm okay. Need your help," You said, pout evident in your voice. Your free hand pushed your shirt up your stomach, fingertips dragging along your tummy, down to trace the waistband of your sleep shorts.

"Should I come back? What's wrong?"

You slid your hand lower, pushing your pants down your hips and tucking your phone against your ear to use the other to get them out of the way.

"I keep thinking about you. Is that wrong?" You asked, closing your eyes as your fingers found their way to your covered core. "You looked so good tonight. You always look good."

You heard his breath hitch, and you sighed in response.

"What are you talking about?" He asked. You couldn't see him, but he was parked outside his apartment, one hand gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, the other trying not to drop his phone.

He listened to the catch in your voice, the tiny hum you let out, and god he tried not to imagine you in some filthy position underneath him. Certainly not a new thought for him, but one he knew he shouldn't be entertaining in the moment.

"I want you so bad, Min, need you." You were basically whining now, rubbing your clit and slowly soaking through your panties at the thought of him. "Been thinking about you touching me for so long. You would, right? I see how you look at me. Never wanted to make it weird but fuck,"

Mingi grunted out a curse under his breath.

"You're drunk," He reminded you. "You probably won't even remember this in the morning. You should go to sleep."

"Don't leave me like this. Please? Just need to hear your voice, wanna hear you talk me through it." You begged, fingers getting more frantic as you sought out your own pleasure.

Mingi tipped his head back into the headrest, his cock twitching with interest. He was already half hard and getting uncomfortable in his tight pants.

"Promise me you won't regret this," He ordered, voice lower now. The sound of it send a wave of arousal all the way to the tips of your toes and you squirmed in your bed.

"I promise. I swear, I won't regret it. I promise."

The desperation in your voice should have embarrassed you, but you were never embarrassed with Mingi.

He reached down, palming himself through his pants and willing himself to last when you sounded so fucked out and he hadn't even said anything yet.

"Are you still wearing your pajamas?" He asked, squeezing his bulge and biting back a groan. You hummed affirmatively. "Take them off, want you naked for me baby."

You didn't hesitate to do as he said, putting your phone on speaker and shuffling around on your bed until you could kick all of your clothes away.

"Good job, baby," He hummed, and you couldn't hold back a surprised whimper at his praise. "That's what you like? My baby likes when I'm nice to her?"

You gasped, fingers slipping between your wet folds as he spoke.

"Yeah, like that." You agreed, nodded even though you knew he couldn't see you.

"Can you play with your nipples for me? Wanted to forever."

Mingi worked his pants down until he could pull his aching dick out of his boxers, stroking himself slowly. He was already leaking precum, but who could blame him when the girl he'd been pining after for years decided to call him up and beg him to fuck her?

You listened eagerly, both hands coming up to knead your breasts before circling your thumbs around your hardening nipples. You gasped softly, flicking over them back and forth a couple times before twisting them a little harder. You could hear Mingi's breathing as it picked up, his ears trained on each tiny gasp and whine that you let out.

"Move your hands down. Want you to touch your sides. They're sensitive, right?" He didn't have to ask to know. He'd found that out completely on accident back in college and it lived in the back of his mind, sparking far too much interest in what other reactions he could pull out of you.

You slid your hands down lower, along the curve of your chest, down your sternum, then up along your sides with feather-light touches that made you squirm. You dragged your nails dully along your side, then down your stomach, wishing beyond anything you could fully comprehend that it was Mingi touching you like this, that his hands were exploring you. You moaned pathetically, a broken keen of his name.

"I'm here, pretty girl, don't worry. You're doing so good for me." Mingi grunted out. He'd been trying to resist touching himself, too afraid that he'd blow the second you opened your mouth, but his cock was throbbing and leaking and simply begging for his attention, and he couldn't deny it anymore. He wrapped his hand around his length, jerking himself off with slow, languid strokes.

"Want you to open your legs nice and wide for me," He told you, listening to the rustle of the sheets as you moved. "Go ahead and touch your thighs. How's that feel?"

Your back arched, chasing some sort of friction now that your thighs were separated, and your hands stroked along the insides of them, kneading the flesh the way you liked.

"Not good enough. Need you, don't wanna do it myself." You huffed.

"I know, but I can't come back yet. Just gotta take care of your pussy for me, okay? I'll make it up to you, I promise." He purred, and you relaxed, his voice running through you like molten lava.

"Can I touch myself, Min? Please?" You asked, and he shivered at the desperation in your voice. He'd never heard you like this before, and whatever string of self control that was keeping him from taking you every time he saw you was beginning to snap.

"Go ahead, baby, play with your clit for me." He ordered firmly now, stroking himself faster. Your hand flew to your core, fingers circling your clit and spreading your wetness against it. You let out the most debauched whimper of relief at the feeling, hips jolting as you moved fast and hard, still too intoxicated to be skilled with your fingers and not entirely caring when you could hear the sound of Mingi's hand around his cock, and his breath picking up.

"God, you're so wet." He groaned, tipping his head back against the headrest again. He could hear you, and what he wouldn't give to have you on his tongue, or have your walls wrapped like a vice around his dick. His head was fogging up with thoughts of you, your scent and your pretty lips and the way you said his name.

"Mingi, can I put them inside?" You asked, fingers dipping closer to your entrance before pulling back to strum against your clit again. "Wanna be full of you. Wish you were here, need your dick so bad."

Any shame you'd felt upon calling him in the first place was gone, and he was going absolutely batshit about it.

"Go ahead baby, let's see how many you can take." He urged. You didn't hesitate to slide two fingers into yourself, wincing a little at the immediate stretch, but the burn felt so good you didn't care. You rocked your hips up to meet each thrust of your fingers, starting slow before becoming a little more frantic, pushing them all the way to the third knuckles. You were soaking yourself, fingers curling up against the spot that had your head spinning.

You were hardly aware of the way you were babbling his name, begging him for more as you managed to squeeze a third finger into yourself.

"Good girl, keep going. Sound so pretty, can't wait to have you on my dick." He stroked himself faster, harder, knowing he was nearing his end. He wanted to drag this out, but he was struggling to deny himself the satisfaction of finally getting off to the sound of you begging for him. This had to be a dream, he hadn't done anything to deserve this kind of blessing, but there you were, fingering yourself dumb for him anyway.

"Close," You warned him, grinding your palm into your clit. Your fingers weren't usually enough, but the sound of him on the line, the image of his large frame engulfing you as he split you open. God, and his hands, they were so much bigger than yours, would fill you up so much better. You didn't even register your orgasm building as high as it did until you were dangling from the edge, thighs shaking with the exertion of bucking your hips up into your hand. "Mingi, I need to cum, please can I?"

The sound of you, breathless and begging and audibly wrecked was too much for him.

"Please cum for me," He groaned, voice tight as he bit back his own orgasm, pushing his limits just to hear the way you nearly sobbed his name. Your orgasm shook through you, fingers messily working yourself through it and pushing it as long as you could, and Mingi couldn't take it.

He spilled into his hand, strings of his own cum spilling over his fingers and onto his pants. He sighed, jerking himself through it despite the mess and imagining that it was you he was making a mess on. When the bliss cleared in his mind, he realized that you were still there on the other end, still breathing hard and presumably coming down from your own high.

There was silence for a few moments, and guilt weighed in his mind as he wiped his hand off on one of the spare tissues he kept in his car. You didn't speak either, too buzzed from the alcohol and the orgasm, and your mind weighing heavy with sleep.

"Mingi?" You said finally, and he felt his heart drop into his stomach. "Will you come back? Don't wanna sleep alone."

He listened to your voice, so heavy with sleep, and so free of any concern about what had just happened. He wanted to argue that it was a bad idea, but despite everything, the two of you still felt so normal. He hummed.

"Give me a little bit, I'll be there soon." He promised, not mentioning that he needed to clean himself up and change his clothes before he could drive back. You didn't argue, just mumbled an okay, and a quiet 'I love you'. That was so normal for both of you, but this time it felt different, and Mingi had to wonder if that was all in his head.

copyright 2024 coupsie-daisies, all rights reserved

[stevie-petey]

dibs

“Jinx!” Again, they say this at the same time. They both groan, and without any other words, they jump into an intense game of rock, paper, scissors.  “One, two, three!” Steve holds out a rock, Robin does as well, and the two teens almost strangle one another.  They try again, this time they both land on paper, and Robin throws her head back in frustration. “I’m not good at math, but this cannot be statistically possible.”

Summary: do the laws of dibs still apply if steve and robin see you at the same time ???

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 1.4k

Before you swing in: this is for my beloved val (@southelroy), and i was so excited to try my hand at writing robin and steve together <3 this is a very silly fic, not at all meant to be realistic or serious, and it isnt proofread so pls enjoy n beware !

-

According to the ancient rules of “dibs”, the first person who sees the desired one has the rightful claim of dibs. Anyone else present during this time must obey this sacred rule, respecting the fact that the other has laid claim first. It’s an old, ancient tradition, held up for centuries through faithful friendships. 

It’s a solid system, really.

Except Steve and Robin see you walk into Family Video on the same day, at the same time, together. 

You walk in, hair slightly wet from the rain and your eyes bright, and smile at the two of them shyly. Setting down your umbrella, you unbutton your raincoat and look around the store. “Sorry, is it okay if I hide out in here for a bit? My umbrella broke and I really don’t feel like catching a cold.”

Steve and Robin stare at you, wide eyed and in shock. They’ve never seen you before, they surely would’ve remembered your face if they had, and their brains short circuit simultaneously. 

When they don’t say anything, you cautiously walk up to the counter and laugh nervously. “Uh, hello? I can leave, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

“No!” Steve shouts, panicked that the word “leave” has left your very pretty and pink mouth. When you flinch at his raised voice, he quickly clears his throat and lowers his voice. “I–uh, I mean… No, no. You can stay–please! I mean, if you don’t mind, ‘cause, ya know, it’s raining–”

“What my coworker here is trying to say is that you can definitely stay.” Robin interrupts, admiring the way the raindrops in your hair seem to form a halo. “In fact, why don’t you have a look around? We have plenty of movies.”

You smile at Robin, which she practically melts seeing. “Thanks, you guys are lifesavers. I’m here visiting my cousin, and he said I should stop by anyways.”

“What, do we know him?” Steve asks, finally finding his voice again. 

“His name is Dustin Henderson, if that helps. He’s a freshman at Hawkins, said he stops here sometimes–”

“Dustin Henderson is your cousin?” Steve and Robin say at the same time, completely taken aback. 

You laugh. “Ya know, I’ve gotten that a lot since being in Hawkins. I take it he’s well known?”

“Oh, he’s definitely well known.” Robin snorts, thinking about how many people would scream at the idea of more Hendersons running around the world. 

But if they’re anything like you, then Robin thinks she’d love to be invited to a Henderson family reunion. Immediately. 

“Well,” you smile again at the two teens, amused by their weird dynamic. You can see why Dustin likes them so much. “Since I’m stuck here for a while and I promised Dustin I’d get a movie, I’m gonna take a look around as suggested.”

You pause, now realizing you haven’t asked for their names, and you gasp. “I’m so sorry! What are your names? I feel horrible for not even asking.”

“You could never do any wrong,” Steve sighs dreamily, leaning against the counter in what he hopes is a cool looking pose. “I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

He sticks his hand out for you to shake, which you accept with a slight giggle. He’s odd, but incredibly endearing even if he’s currently standing against the counter like a middle-aged man. “I’m Y/N Henderson.” 

Robin, sensing what Steve is trying to do, hip checks the boy so that he falls onto the ground. “And I’m Robin Buckley, the better half of this duo.”

Like hell she’s going to allow him to flirt with you. 

Her declaration makes you laugh, even as poor Steve groans on the floor in pain. You wink at her, amused by her charm, and start to walk towards the movie aisles. “Oh, I believe that.”

Steve scrambles back up, and the second you’re out of earshot, he and Robin immediately shout at the same time, “Dibs!”

“Jinx!” Again, they say this at the same time. They both groan, and without any other words, they jump into an intense game of rock, paper, scissors. 

“One, two, three!” Steve holds out a rock, Robin does as well, and the two teens almost strangle one another. 

They try again, this time they both land on paper, and Robin throws her head back in frustration. “I’m not good at math, but this cannot be statistically possible.”

“Okay, let’s think about this.” Steve holds a finger up to indicate that he’s speaking, which Robin scoffs at. “I saw her first, so–”

“Uh, news flash, dingus: I saw her first.”

“Were you dropped as a child? I clearly saw her first–”

“Actually,” your voice causes both Robin and Steve to turn in horror, realizing too late that you’ve been standing behind them, listening in. “You both saw me at the same time, so I’m not sure how the rule of dibs applies here.”

“We…” Steve gapes at you, speechless. 

Robin is no better, her face burns horribly. “We think… You’re pretty?”

“Well, I gathered that much.” You laugh again, and the sound is enough for both Steve and Robin to forget all their worries and admire how delicate it is. Then, holding up two dvd’s, you place them on the counter. “I’ll take these, please.”

Robin looks down at your movie selection, seeing The Breakfast Club and The Outsiders, and her heart drops. “Just… Just these?”

“Mhm,” you nod, unsure why her demeanor has suddenly changed. “Is there something wrong with my movie selection?”

Steve looks at Robin and he knows immediately what’s wrong. She absolutely hates your taste in movies, which he’s ecstatic over. He lets out a whoop and first bumps the air. “Yes! She’s mine!”

“Shut up, you moron!” Robin screeches, embarrassed and infuriated. She cannot believe that this is happening to her right now, in front of a very pretty girl, no less. Closing her eyes, Robin takes a deep breath and turns to you. “Please excuse my friend, he’s allergic to pretty girls.”

“Hey, that’s not true–”

You cross your arms at Robin, an amused smile on your face. “What’s so wrong with my taste in movies?”

“Nothing!” When you raise your eyebrow at her, Robin accepts her fate and gives in. She knows she’s done for now. “It’s just… It’s incredibly bland.”

“I happen to think your taste is impeccable, Y/N.” Steve butts in, batting his eyelashes at you for added effect.

Robin watches, with pure disgust, as it works. Steve’s charm gets you to laugh once more, and you even lean closer to his side of the counter. You place a hand on his arm. “I’m honored to have you on my side, then.”

Stupid Harrington and his stupid male species. 

While you and Steve exchange gross lovey-dovey glances, Robin rings up your movie rentals with disdain. 

“That will be $5.25, please.” She mumbles, crestfallen. 

You tear your eyes away from Steve’s and notice the jealousy and hurt on Robin’s face. You frown, feeling bad for being the cause of this. She seems like a sweet girl, and Dustin spoke highly of her, so you know she’s someone special. Taking some cash out of your purse, you hand it to Robin and catch her eye. 

“Hey, listen to me real quick.” Robin looks up, despite not wanting to, but your eyes are too pretty not to look into. When you have her attention, you turn to Steve. “Can you give us a second?”

He looks bewildered. “What? Why?”

“If you leave now, I’ll give you my number.”

“Yes ma’am!” Steve hops over the counter and goes to sort some movies, leaving you alone with Robin. 

Once he’s gone, you lean in close to her. “I understand what you’re going through.”

Her eyes widen, terrified she’s been caught. “W–what? No, I think you’ve gotten this all wrong–”

“It’s okay,” you grab her hand, gently take it between yours. “We’re more alike than you may think, and while I’m flattered, you’re too young.”

Robin knows she should be devastated by this, but all she hears is, “So… Let’s say ten years from now, if you happen to visit Dustin again…”

You laugh, she’s got such a spark to her. “You’ll have to figure out the whole ‘dibs’ thing by then with Steve.”

“I saw you first!” Steve shouts from somewhere in the aisles, before a giant crash follows. A few seconds pass, and then, much quieter this time, he shouts, “I’m fine!”

-

⌑ writing masterlist

[doctorho]

viktor doesn't... pay that much attention to appearances, his or anyone else's. not when it doesn't matter. sure, there's the 'wearing what they see as respectable clothes so they take you seriously' and the 'not going to the dinner table covered in oil stains', but beyond that? he doesn't really care, to be honest.

yes, he's aware that some people put a lot more thought into the way they look, and into what other people think about the way they look. he knows that's a thing. it just happens to be a thing he chooses not to personally get invonved in.

well, it had been.

he honestly hadn't even thought about it much, before. it had just been one of those things that other people did, one of those things he had never really understood. you know, one of those things that made him feel like maybe the rest of the world had had some secret meeting without him where they decided that yes, these are the rules, and no, we won't explain them, you just have to know.

one of those things.

and he had been fine not thinking about it! truly, he had been blissfully unaware of what the current beauty standards were and which traits were seen as good or bad on which year -

and then he'd met you, by some miracle. you know, viktor doesn't meet that many new people, these days, so it does genuinely feel like a miracle when you just... stumble into his life one day. and without even thinking about it, automatically, viktor's brain files you away as beautiful, and he treats that as a passing fact, the same way he treats the color of your eyes. it's just a categorizing trait; this person just is beautiful.

and then, later, when he learns that apparently not everyone thinks that, his brain disagrees, severly. like - are they blind? is this a joke? it's a bad joke, if so, and then he's mad for you.

because he remembers that, ah, right. some people are weird about appearances. they have their menial rules about it that change by the decade.

he's still mad for you, but mentally he's ended that argument with well they're all idiots. because clearly you are an awesome, incredible, beautiful human being and this shouldn't be an argument in the first place.

he tells you this, and then his heart breaks a little when you seem so used to hearing the opposite. when you seem to have accepted what those idiots were saying because you'd just...heard it so often.

when you seem to not-quite-believe that he could really see you as beautiful. that he could really, actually want you. like that.

and it's - it drives him up the wall that this is even a thing. that the negative things you've heard outweigh the positive ones, and apparently by a landslide. that he can't make you see yourself the way he sees you.

because, truly, he thinks you're so beautiful. like, are you kidding? viktor's been skin and bone his whole life, and you're so...soft. he knows it way before he ever touches you; he can see it, and he has a well enough functioning imagination. and he's been thinking about it a lot, lately. what you'd feel like under his fingers. against his body. he has theories about this.

he can tell you're soft, and warm, and sometimes when the sunlight hits you he genuinely thinks you look like you could be straight out of one of those expensive oil paintings people paid a lot of money to see just a glimpse of.

and - yes, okay, maybe some of this was just his hormones talking, but come on. he couldn't not want to touch you. that was just one of those facts of life - the sun rose every morning, and whenever viktor saw you, he had the urge to touch you. to be close to you. to prove to you how much he adored you.

and then when you let him? that - that felt like a miracle. truly and honestly. because - viktor had never considered himself to be especially lucky, just, like, in life in general, but this?

he had to have won some sort of cosmic lottery. to first be lucky enough to meet you and then to be able to do this. to get so close. to touch you like this, to see you like this. it is nothing short of a privilege and he takes it, happily and greedily. and he makes it his personal mission to let you know exactly what he thought about you, and exactly how little you should care about anyone else's opinion. except your own, of course, but only on those days your mind was being kind to you.

so he makes sure you know that he absolutely worships you. okay? you are his personal deity, and he is devoted. he lets you know, any way he knows how, and any opportunity he gets. given half a chance, he will be praising you, telling how gorgeous you are and how lucky he is to have you. telling you how good you look, how good you feel, how good you make him feel. he isn't shy - he tells you, in enough detail to make your cheeks heat up.

and when you're alone, and you have all the time in the world? he shows you, and he doesn't hold back. and then he reminds you, again and again and again.

and you know viktor isn't a liar. he doesn't care about things like this enough to lie about them. so when he tells you that he loves the way you look, the way you feel, the way you are, you believe him.

[queenlucythevaliant]

See, I don't think that the Pevensie kids were uncanny and dangerous upon returning to England so much as just like. Cool weirdos.

Lucy talks to animals sometimes. She doesn't expect responses or anything; it has the same energy as a person talking to their dog, except it's the squirrel she spotted on the quad or the racoon in the garbage. But she's super friendly in general so after the initial "what the heck" everyone shrugs it off because like, yeah, of course she does. She also went with me to a scary doctor's appointment having known me for like five minutes and gave me an incredible pep talk. She's cool like that.

Peter joins the fencing club and day one it's like he's never held a foil in his life and day two he loses to a kid half his size but then after like a month he just absolutely annihilates the instructor. But he's super humble about it and afterwards he helps everyone else out without being condescending at all. And while it's a little weird that he's just Suddenly an expert, people are like, "he's a fast learner, that's cool." He's really industrious in class too, just Peter being Peter. He probably practiced a whole bunch after hours.

Edmund gets extremely weird food cravings sometimes, like "wow, I could really go for chicken liver with raisins right about now" or "you guys know what's great? Gooseberry trifles." And his friends say, "I've never heard of that before but it sounds weird." So Edmund learns to cook and starts making all these vaguely antiquated fancy dishes with weird berries and organ meats and things and shares them around during study breaks and everyone's like "Yo! Pevensie brought food. Cool, thanks Pevensie." And he shares it with everyone, even the kids nobody likes, and it kinda brings people together.

Susan, who was always the Mom Friend, seems to have gotten a power-up because now she Everyone's mom and weirdly people actually listen to her? But she only uses those powers for good. Girl in her dorm not eating enough? Susan's here with snacks and look at that now she's eating. Those guys arguing look like they're about to throw down? Susan says "knock it off" and glares and they do. And her friends are like, "how do you do it???" and she says "You just have to act like you expect to be obeyed." It's very cool, though it can be a bit Much sometimes.

And they're all into mythology now? Like ancient Rome and King Arthur and stuff? That's kinda weird, but not off-putting; lots of kids have mythology phases. And Peter named the tree outside his dorm, but everyone kinda laughs and says "yeah okay." Edmund is adamantly anti-bullying now, it's nice. Susan and Lucy wear a lot of lion-themed jewelry and people definitely Notice, but that just means that they start getting more of it for Christmas/birthdays.

And of course whenever two or more of them are together it's like they've got a conspiracy going on. They're always fervently whispering back and forth, giggling an the million inside jokes they've got, giving each other Looks. And onlookers are mostly just like, "Man, it's cool that those Pevensie kids are all so tight; I wish I was that close with my siblings."

[woso-dreamzzz]

School

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You have a bad first day

The school is fancy.

It's private (the only one that Magda and Pernille could find on short notice) and you get put into a fancy uniform.

Magda thinks that a school blazer is too much for such a little girl to be wearing but it was the uniform policy so she bought it. You look incredibly grown up, perhaps too grown up for the little baby that used to sleep in her arms and cry when she hid your dummy.

Now though, she's the one crying.

"Magda," Pernille whispers," Smile. You're going to make her cry too."

Magda doesn't really think you need her help for that. You cling to her hand tightly, scuffing the ground with your fancy new shoes. You flinch every time a child goes past you and you worry your bottom lip with your teeth.

Magda puts on the biggest, fakest smile she can manage and tries to look encouraging.

You give her a weak smile back before shuffling forward and then back towards her again.

"Hallo!" A stern looking woman says from the classroom door.

"Hallo," You whisper back.

Magda stiffens when the woman gives you an odd look. She knows why though. You speak German very well but on certain words, you have the tiniest of accents and it's clear that this woman picks up on it.

Magda tightens her grip on you as Pernille talks to the teacher.

"Hey," She says," I love you."

You look towards the classroom where kids your age are running about and screaming.

"Don't want to," You whisper," Morsa, I don't want to."

"I know," She says," I don't want you too either but we're both going to be very brave and get through today."

"No," You say," No, I don't want to be brave. I want to go home." The little crinkle in your brow appears and your bottom lip wobbles.

"It's okay," Pernille joins you both now, cupping your face and smoothing out your crinkle," Just a few hours and then we'll pick you up and we'll go back to training."

You sniffle. "I want to go to training now."

"I know," Pernille says," But you've got school first."

You huff and look back at the classroom and the stern lady waiting for you.

"The sooner you start school, the sooner you can leave," Morsa promises you and that's enough to get you moving.

Two hours into your school day, you decide that you don't like it at all.

Your classmates are mean and the little boy who sits next to you pulls your hair and spits. It's very gross.

Your teacher isn't nice either. You don't think she likes you either. She's kind of mean and speaks very quickly to you as if to catch you out with something.

Your German is good and Momma and Morsa have been teaching you to read at home but it's a little slower reading in German than your other languages.

You know you can read Swedish and Danish well because Momma and Morsa focus on that at home and you can read English too because sometimes Jessie and Niamh would help you while you sat on the bench with them.

You didn't really have anyone to read German with but you know how to read in your other languages so it's kind of the same and all you need to do is sound out the words.

You don't know why she's picking on you because everyone else is struggling too. It's not your fault.

"We speak German here. Not English," She says a bit spitefully but, strangely, in English when you pass her for breaktime.

That makes an icky feeling appear in your stomach and you sit by yourself at break on the playground.

Your other classmates seem to have picked up on the weird atmosphere your teacher has created around you because nobody comes to play with you.

You've never really had much interaction with kids your age so you're not too sure whether you should invite yourself into someone else's game or wait for them to invite you. You don't want to make people not like you more.

So, you sit at the very edge of the playground and dig at some weeds with a stick. You want to go and play football with the boys but you saw them turn away another girl who wanted to play earlier so you stay far away.

Your day doesn't really get better because after break your teacher is still very mean and she gets an annoyed and somewhat angry look on her face when you burst into tears.

She sends you by yourself to the reception lady, who takes one look at you and gives you tissues to dry your face before calling Momma and Morsa.

The receptionist woman is nice and you wish she was your teacher instead of the mean woman because she shares half her chocolate bar with you while you wait.

Momma and Morsa come quickly, still in their training kits and you burst back into tears all over again.

You curl yourself into Momma and sob. "Don't want to do school anymore," You choke out," Don't make me. No more!"

Momma hushes you softly, tucking you into her so you have some semblance of privacy. She picks you up too as Morsa spits venom at the poor reception lady who, quite graciously, accepts it in her stride.

"So mean," You explain to Momma as you both sit in the car," She's so mean. Momma, she's picking on me." You tug off your blazer and pull at your shirt. "I don't want to go back."

"I know you don't," Momma says," But-"

"No!"

Morsa opens the door and slams herself into her seat in annoyance. "That foul, foul, pathetic excuse for a teacher," She bites out," I told you, didn't I, Pernille? That I got bad vibes off her?!"

"I know, Magda," Momma says quietly," Let's just get back to training and discuss it tonight..." She jerks her head towards you and you know that means this conversation will be had when you're in bed and asleep.

You wish they would include you but you also know that this conversation will be long and boring with lots of adult topics that will probably get confusing.

"Hey," Morsa says, wiggling your knee as Momma starts the car," We're going to head back to training. Your gloves are in your practice bag, if that will make you feel better?"

You nod.

That would make you feel better.

[erwinsvow]

thinking about being rafe’s calm. when he’s about to actually start pushing and throwing punches and yelling, but if you’re there and run up to him and drag him away, he complies—lets you talk him out of the situation and walk back to his quiet car or an empty room. he’ll listen when you speak, when you try to calm him down, hug him, kiss him, until he stops seeing red.

the first time it happens he feels embarrassed on the inside—wondering how long you’ve had such a big influence on him. feels weird like he shouldn’t be reliant on anyone but himself, feels like it’s wrong because he’s supposed to be protecting you and not the other way around. 

he buries these thoughts the next time it happens, with his dad. you two were eating breakfast or maybe cleaning up after, he can’t remember, when ward comes in to have a discussion with rafe. he politely asks you to step out for a second but you glance up at rafe, and he looks so hard and angry already that you decide it’s better if you stay. ward starts talking—things that don’t make any sense to you but must mean something to your boyfriend—and you can almost feel rafe getting tense, his fist balling and jaw clenching.

on your side of the counter, his dad can’t see your hands, so you take rafe’s fist into your palm and force him to relax his fingers, holding his hand and gently rubbing his palm with your thumb, bringing him into a hug the second ward walks away. you can feel his heart thudding when you’re so close like this, fingers running through his hair to help him stay calm. you’re surprised it even works, proud of yourself for trying and not being too scared. 

it’s a  little bit harder with lots of people around. rafe’s prone to getting agitated by pogues no matter what they do. it doesn’t help that they’re all sarah’s friends now—seems like he interacts with them twice as much. you know it’s inevitable to stop them from yelling at each other, that these are just people who will never get along with each other, but you still try.

sometimes it doesn’t take much more than a tug of his arm while your hands are in each others to get him to walk away. it’s like if you make him realize you’re standing next to him, that he’s not alone and doesn't have to be alone ever again, he can snap out of it. it’s been working more and more recently, you think, incredibly pleased with yourself. rafe’s happy so you’re happy, and the two of you both know it and don't have to talk about it.

then comes a big one—your boyfriend is as angry as you’ve ever seen him. you don’t know what’s happened, just that you want to help him. you’re starting not to care who’s at fault, who caused this, and you’re beginning to blame everyone else for even doing something that makes rafe angry. that sentiment is a little brainwashed, you reflect, but you don’t really care anymore.

someone throws a punch and rafe’s not going to back down from a fight. when someone finally tears them apart, your boyfriend’s bleeding from a cut on his face and has a big bruise forming on the other side. you don’t look at the other guy because you know it’s worse. you drag rafe to his truck, heart beating fast—feeling really upset yourself. you thought you were getting better at this, that you were good for him, but you weren’t able to do anything today. you’re both silent in the truck, until you use your sleeve to wipe away some of the blood on his temple, sniffling. 

“just took a punch and you’re the one crying?” but it doesn’t come out harsh, the way you’d expect. he says it soft and gentle, like he’s mad at himself for making you cry. his tone doesn’t help matters so you start crying even harder.

“hey, hey, come here-” and in a few swift motions, you’re out of your seat and sitting on his lap, face buried in his neck while you get the collar of his shirt damp. “m’sorry, baby, didn’t mean to scare you.” you pull away to look at him, tears glittering in your pretty eyes and cheeks wet.

“i’m sorry,” you finally get out, quiet and weepy. you’re disappointed in yourself.

“what’re you apologizing for?” he asks, and you cry harder, unable to meet rafe’s eyes.

“i couldn’t stop it, i’m supposed to stop and help you so this doesn’t happen-” 

rafe’s not stupid—he knows what you do when you see him getting upset. he knows it and he’s thankful and he loves you, but he starts to feel the worst he’s ever felt thinking that you’re in tears because he couldn’t hold back from punching some stupid, inconsequential guy.

“hey, c’mon, stop crying.” rafe’s hands come up to wipe away your fresh tears, guiding you back onto his chest while you’re still sobbing. “hey, listen to me, no tears. you’re good, right?” you nod. “so be a good girl and listen to me.”

you sniffle again, quieting down and listening to rafe’s voice and the thud of his heart against your ear. 

“i love that you make me feel better. but it’s not gonna work every single time, okay? can’t have you in tears every time i get pissed or you’ll die from dehydration.” you laugh a little, breathing hard.

“i just wanna help.” 

“yeah?” he asks, getting another idea. “anyway you can?”

you nod against his shirt eagerly.

that’s how you get like this—in the backseat of his truck, your legs folded back to your chest and rafe’s hands pushing you into the seat and holding you in place. he slams in and out of you at a brutal place, probably one so intense the entire truck is shaking from the outside. your eyes roll back at each thrust, the pain in your limbs from the tight fit and position dissipating as rafe starts to talk to you.

“this’ll help me, baby, every time-” and you interrupt with a particularly loud moan when he moves a hand to play with your clit. “feel good? i’ll never get angry again, promise. jus’ let me do this every time.”

[kaleldobrev]

Dean Winchester Masterlist

A rebloggable Dean Winchester Masterlist for your viewing and reading pleasure. All stories are Dean Winchester x F. Reader unless otherwise stated

Authors Note: Will update this as I post more stories

Come on Tiger (823) | You convince Dean to come to bed

You’re Not Normal (College AU) (556) | The reader and Dean become friends in a weird way

Happy Father’s Day (1.2k) |It’s Father’s Day, and the reader has some news to tell Dean

One Day (1.2k) | The reader and Dean talk about their dream life away from hunting

You Don’t Mean That (Demon!Dean) (2.3k) | Sam and the reader finally find Dean and bring him back to the Bunker. Sam says not to talk to Dean before they cure him, but the reader has other plans.

I Love The Way You… (2.9k) | Dean wants to propose to you but isn’t really sure how, so he asks Sam, Jody, and Donna for help

Nightmare Cure (1.6k) | You struggle with nightmares. So Dean comes up with a way to help you.

Autumn Vibes (1.2k) | Dean creates a new recipe in honor of the fall season.

A Date with Dean: Lucky Strikes (5.8k) | Dean and you go bowling for this weeks date night. But decide to make it a little bit more interesting.

The Comforts of a Winchester (2.2k) | Having a nightmare sucks, but at least you have Dean to comfort you.

I Dream of You (1.7k) | Dean dreams of a life with you, but do you?

Pizza, Beer & Zeppelin IV (1.2k) | Dean is surprised to find out what your ideal first date is; and he’s more than happy to oblige

You Deserve Love (2k) | Sometimes Dean needs reassurance that you love him

A Small Part of You (2.3k) | Although Dean is gone, at least you’ll always have a part of him

I Love Her, That’s Why (2.2k) | Dean thought that he was doing a pretty good job at hiding his feelings for you…until Jack started asking questions.

You Make Me Happy (2.3k) | With you doing what he believes to be an incredibly reckless thing on a hunt, Dean finally realizes how much you really mean to him

Old Man (3.4k) | Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way

Without Hesitation, Yes (2.6k) | After all these years, Dean finally asks you to marry him.

Spitting Image (2.8k) | You think Dean looks like one of your favorite characters. Dean on the other hand…doesn’t see the resemblance.

Come Back Home (4.5k) | After a relationship ending argument that caused you to leave the Bunker, you and Dean haven’t heard from/seen each other in over a year. Are there still sparks between you two? The better question is: Did they ever truly leave in the first place?

Daddy in a Different Way (2.5k) | A simple misunderstanding leads an older woman to believe that you and Jack are together, not you and Dean. But Dean does a “very good job” at clearing things up…But maybe not in the best way.

Pumpkin Muffins (930) | You and Dean decide to try new nicknames for each other

Days Like These (1.4k) | You and Dean decide to spend the day in while it’s raining outside.

Mutual Pining (4.3k) | Dean and you are in love with each other, and it’s obvious to everyone but the two of you

Please Don’t Leave (2k) | Dean’s lucky to have you in his life and honestly doesn’t know what he would ever do without you

New Record (1k) | Dean and you set a new record

Pillow Talk (1.2k) | A common theme of yours and Dean’s pillow talks happen to be about having that white picket fence and apple pie life

Happy Anniversary (Non-Hunters AU) (2k) | You and Dean celebrate your 18-year wedding anniversary

It’s Okay (1.8k) | Dean’s a little jealous that Sam still talks to you and not him

I Finally Get It (2.7k) | Dean thinks he looks like a character from one of your favorite slasher films. You on the other hand…don’t see the resemblance.

Genuinely Happy (506) | You and Dean enjoy a nice car ride together while you admire how genuinely happy he looks

Coming & Going (1.8k) | You want Dean to stay, but will he?

What Are We? (2.1k) | Dean and you do a lot of couple things together but yet…you’re not a couple, and you often wonder why.

Stupidest Person Alive (1.7k) | After a near death experience in which you almost lost Dean, you tell him that you can’t risk losing him again.

The Day Before (743) | Dean comforts you when you get a migraine

Once Mine (Michael!Dean) (1.3k) | Michael thinks him possessing Dean can be a win-win for the both of you

Knew You’d Come Around (Michael!Dean) (1.5k) | Michael’s happy you’ve finally come around

Comfortable? (516) | Falling asleep in Dean’s lap while he’s driving

Would You Like To… (978) | You and Dean have been dating for a few months, and now he’s trying to figure out how to ask you to move into his room

Midnight Confessions (1k) | You and Dean have a “heart-to-heart” conversation on the way to Stanford to pick up Sam

Hauled Up (1.5k) | Sam recruits you to try and convince Dean to stop hauling up in his room

When You’re Ready (1.8k) | A case hits you particularly hard and all you want to do is be alone

Never the Favorite (844) | You finally try and set the record straight

Screw Consciousness (410) | Taking a nap with Dean after a long drive

Things Overheard (2k) | Dean overhears a private conversation between you and Sam

I’ve Got Ya (162) | Dean trying to comfort you after a nightmare

Blush (389) | For the first time in your life, you can say you’ve made Dean Winchester blush

Taste (657) | Dean going down on you in the back of Baby

Under Control (2.3k) | Dean keeps reassuring you that he has everything under control in terms of the Mark. But does he really?

Just Right (1.9k) | Dean hates when you’re sick. Not only can he not kiss his best girl without the possibility of getting sick himself. But you also can’t make one of his favorite things to start off his day: his morning coffee.

Not the Same (Endverse AU) (4.7k) | Part One | Part Two

Coffee Kisses (3.3k) | Part One | Part Two

Old Man / Age Gap Universe

Shiny New Toy (Demon!Dean)

Supernatural: Purgatory Masterlist | 3/? parts done

My Hero Masterlist | ¾ parts done

Dean dressing up as a cowboy for a case and using Old West style pick-up lines

Introducing Dean to phone apps

Going to karaoke night with Dean at a bar

Pretending to be married to Dean for a case

Eating Halloween candy with Dean

Being one of the only witches Dean can stand

Getting Dean the perfect birthday present

Dean still worrying about you even though you’ve broken up

Dean still answering your calls even though you’ve broken up

Finding out you’re Dean’s soulmate from Apocalypse World Michael

Wanted Posters (Incorrect Quotes)

Dating Dean Poem/Moodboard

[merakiui]

Adding onto step bro Skully (✦ ‿ ✦) imagine step bro needing to talk himself in and out of peeking into the wash room while she's bathing. That would be creepy right??? B-but seeing the outline of your naked form would be really nice. Putting a body image into that lingerie would quell just enough...surely. And finally he sneaks a peek, just opening the door enough to see in without you noticing too much, to see you in the submerged in the bath chest barely covered and legs propped upwards out of the bath only bubbles covering part of your body while your head is laid back clearly enjoying your time.

WAAA YES!!! >w< he thinks it’s such a delightful sight. The bubbles allow his very vivid imagination to fill in the blanks, providing him with all kinds of lewd thoughts. You look so peaceful relaxing in the warm bath. If only he could be there in the bath with you… aaa,,, but maybe that’s too weird. You’re both grown and he’s way too tall. >_< he’d take up too much space with his awkward, lanky limbs. But it’d be so romantic to bathe together, to take turns washing the other, to enjoy floral scented baths, to have you lean against his chest and fall asleep right there, comforted in his embrace!!!! AAAAA OTL he has to turn away from the door before he accidentally falls in or makes any sounds from the amount of swooning he’s doing. ;;;

Skully doesn’t intend to become a thief, but he can’t help swiping some of your panties for himself. You’ll never notice they’re gone. He just,,, needs them. He likes how soft they are wrapped around his dick; he likes thinking about how these same panties definitely touched that soft pussy of yours…… in a way, isn’t this just indirect sex?!?! \(//∇//)\ sometimes he’ll spray your perfume on his sheets or pillows just to fall asleep in your pretty smell, imagining you spread out on his bed, inviting him to join you…. it’s a dream that’s so delightfully intimate that he wakes with an aching hard-on. :( the sad reality is that it’s only just a dream.

Sometimes he creeps into your room just to watch you sleep. Maybe he even sleeps under your bed or in the closet… tucking himself away so that when morning comes he can watch you do your daily routine. He can watch you dress yourself, do your makeup, bend over to pick up dirty laundry……… he knows it’s poor manners and he knows you’ll think he’s a gross, pathetic creep, but sometimes he gets hard watching you and one time it was so bad he just had to slowly pump himself to the sight of you going through pretty outfits for a night out with friends. The lacy panties, the lewd bras, the dresses and skirts, the cute tops… you’re so pretty,,, such a beautiful darling. His dear stepsister… he could admire you forever, burn this image into his brain and let it remain there for all of eternity.

Skully wants nothing more than to plaster you to the bed and fuck into you slow and sweet, watching your tits jiggle with every thrust, watching your hazy expression twist with pleasure, listening to the soft gasps that spill from parted lips!!! He has to bite down hard on his lip so you won’t hear his whimper when he cums into an old pair of panties he found lying haphazardly in the back of your closet.

Or when the two of you watch movies together!! These are the moments Skully looks forward to the most. Movie nights with you are special, sacred times. You bond over horror films and, of course, the nightly rewatch of his favorite: The Nightmare Before Christmas. But sometimes you’ll watch a movie and a sex scene will come on, and he’s so incredibly awkward throughout the entire thing. He keeps stealing glances at you, wondering what you’re thinking about. If he lets his mind wander, it’s you he sees on the screen. He imagines himself in those positions with you: pressing you against a window, bending you over a surface, lying back and watching you lower yourself onto his dick…… he fidgets with the pillow placed over his lap. He’d die if you saw his erection straining against his trousers. >_<

But sometimes he just wants to take you to dinner and court you properly like a gentleman from Victorian times. He probably writes lots of poetry about you. You’re his favorite thing next to Jack Skellington and everything NBC. He idolizes you. <3

[sivyera]

10 things Edward Cullen loves about you

edward c. x fem!reader wanings: none! just edward being a simp and a lots of fluff, like a lot of

To be clear, Edward loves every. single. part. of. you. In his eyes you are just perfect. There is nothing on you, that he wouldn't find perfect or beautiful. But he somehow sorted it out and wrote down what he loves most about you. Even though he loves everything about you.

Your height - it may sounds weird bur please let me explain. He loves your height because you are much shorter then him, no matter how tall you are you are still smaller then him. So whenever he hugs you, he can rest his chin on your head and he feels like he's protecting you.

Your laugh - especially if he's the one who made you laugh. It's like music to his ears and he can listen to it forever. So sometimes he starts tickle you out of nowhere just to hear you laugh. And he always laugh with you.

Your smile - he just love when you smile at him. Like when you wake up and look at him with messy hair, sleepy eyes and beautiful smile full of love. Or when he says something flirty and you scoff and then smile. Or when he picks you up in his volvo and you say 'hi' with the biggest and brightest smile, he can't help but smile too.

Your voice - it's music to his ears same as your laugh. You can talk about anything and he will still listen with hearts in his eyes. You can talk about how your day went or how much you love this and that, he really doesn't care he just wanna hear your voice. But his favourite thing to listen is when you talk about how much you love him.

Your body - he loves how your body looks and it reacts when he touches you. He is cold but not uncomfortably cold yk, like refreshing cold. So when he softly traces his fingers on your body and you shiver a bit, oh god he just loves it! He likes every part of your body.

Your face -he just finds your face incredibly beautiful. Every single time when he looks at you he just wanna kiss you all over your face. The beauty you hold is something magical to him, something he didn't believe existed, yet here you are with the most beautiful face in the whole world.

Your eyes - he can get lost in them for hours. He cannot get enough of the way how your eyes sparkle when you look at something you like. And he never miss the way they sparkle and get bigger when you look at him, how much love they hold when you look at him. And he looks at you the same way like you, maybe with more love;)

Your scent - it's like a drug to him. I mean it, whenever he smells your scent, he cannot think about anything else then you. You are his blood singer which means he loves the scent of your blood as well and it's like a drug to him same as your human scent. So he loves when he can just wrap his arms around you and bury his face into your neck so he can smell you.

Your touch - it doesn't matter where are you touching him, just touch him. Your touch is as addictive as your scent. Even small touches like holding pinkies. But he is over the moon when you play with his hair. It's so relaxing to him and if he could he would fall asleep. He may start 'purring' but don't mention it, because he will deny it.

Your soul - your beautiful kind soul. He's happy that you accepted him because he was really insecure, because imagining you leaving him or worst being scared of him when he told you he was a vampire was devastating. But you didn't, you stayed with him and you love him unconditionally as he loves you. He considers himself very VERY lucky to have you as his soulmate.