#sam's to come soon

[ollieinoue]

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT TASK 002: FAMILY HOME (REDUX)

The Inoue household is located in a small 2 bedroom apartment, located on the 4th floor of an apartment block in the Washington Heights neighborhood of Manhattan, New York City. The family has never had a ton of money, but they managed to get by on his parents multiple full time jobs, as they never wanted Ollie to work telling him to focus on his school and get into college instead. Use that big brain of his that neither of them had (their words). Most of the furniture and décor in the apartment is second hand in some way, shape, or form. Whether it was gotten in thrift shops & flea markets, rented until they paid it off in full, or literally fished out of dumpsters. His parents aesthetic is pretty eclectic anyway, and the place is filled with books, records, photos, art, magazines, random weird knick-nacks and just about anything that could make a person’s apartment to feel like a home. 

Despite the size, broken appliances, shoddy plumbing with hot water that only works when it feels like working, no built in cooling, terrible landlord, living on the top floor of a building with no elevator, etc … Ollie’s never felt out of place in his childhood home, and that’s probably the most important thing for a person growing up, he understands that not everyone has been so lucky. 

THE LIVING ROOM

Filled with books, old records, some plants, a tv, and second hand furniture. 

Honestly the tv is probably the least used thing in the apartment. 

The first time he ever made out with someone was on that couch :’) during his twelveth birthday party. Oh the memories.

THE KITCHEN

The fridge is usually full of like frozen meals, and left overs, and easy to make food like that. 

Lots of good snacks. They’re a household of stoners. 

Lots of long lasting food, like rice, and soups, and canned vegetables and things like that.

Nothing fancy like dishwashers, and trash compactors. 

“We have no clean bowls, but we do have a wok. Boy, I love being Asian” - actual conan gray quote that is v fitting for Ollie’s life lmao

THE STUDY AREA

It’s basically just like the hallway between his parents bedroom and the bathroom. 

Ollie did most of his studying in his room, but that’s where the computer was so he did all the computer stuff there.

Also where his dad keeps all of his guitars, except he has his favorite acoustic one in his bedroom. 

You’ll see a lot of band paraphernalia on the walls from his dad’s band, and you’ll also find most of the Inoue family photos, and stuff like that. It’s where they keep all that stuff (or hung up on the fridge).

OLLIE’S BEDROOM

Where Ollie spent most of his time specifically in his teenage years when he was at home. A lot of reading. A lot of drug use. A lot of other activities...

His room is really small, so it’s really just room for a bed, his dresser, and his bookshelves. Because there were more than one bookshelves. 

Otherwise everything had to be fairly small and kept to his walls. 

It’s pretty chaotic, and cluttered. He’s a lot neater in the dorm tbh. 

OTHER

There is also his parents room which he hung out watching TV with them early mornings, when it was just one of those days nothing was happening. 

Also a bathroom which is small and not interesting.

The ‘dining room’ which is a table that is used for everything except eating. It’s where all the crap they’re carrying goes. They eat literally anywhere else except for on holidays of it they have GUESTS like important ones.

Any and All of Ollie’s friends are welcome to go to the Inoue apartment whether Ollie is there or not. They can just crash there his parents really don’t care. Especially if they are currently in some kind of bad way and need a place to be. They’re very nice people.

[spookberry]

tucker goin thru it

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.3

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

“Aquaman.” Batman swept into the room, beelining straight for the suddenly apprehensive Atlantean king.

“Batman. What can I do for you?”

“Phantom. Does he pay taxes?”

“Pardon?”

Batman makes a low noise that had Aquaman’s danger senses buzzing.

“Does Phantom have to pay taxes. Towards Atlantis.”

“No…? Why?”

“He wanted money, in exchange for… information, of a delicate sort,” Batman said, diplomatically avoiding the topic of Phantom bargaining for the identities of corpses in exchange for a measly $100 dollars per identity. Like a flea market dealer, that one was.

“You encountered Phantom again?” Aquaman perked up.

“Yes. Gotham’s bay is… polluted.” Batman paused. “With victims. Of murder.”

The entire area quieted as heads turned towards the Dark Knight.

“Yes, I am… distantly aware of Gotham’s waters.” By that, Aquaman gets green around the gills whenever he turns his awareness in that direction. There’s a reason he doesn’t enter Gotham, and the Dark Knight’s ban is only half of that reason. “Ah, but you’re correct. For what purpose would Phantom need mortal currency?”

“Hn.”

“Maybe he needs some stuff?” Flash zipped to a stop next to Batman, feet tapping as he dug into the pile of snacks cradled in his arms. “Us mortals are always coming up with new things, maybe he wants to try some games or something?”

Batman tilted his head down, seriously considering Flash’s suggestion. “It’s plausible.”

“Barry, Barry, Barry. He’s old as hell, right? He probably wants to try the new booze!”

“Hal, my man!” Flash fist bumped Green Lantern, who came up. “You’re back! What happened to John?”

“Dunno. He got called somewhere that way,” Green Lantern waved a vague hand towards the left. “Had to deal with a politician or something from that area.” He shrugged, swinging an arm over Barry’s shoulders to put him in a headlock and stealing a chip.

“Huh. Anyways, would our mortal alcohol even work on a demi-god or something?”

“We should ask!” Hal turned towards Batman. “You should ask if he wants to go for a drink, spooky!”

“He’s a child.”

“He’s been around for more than a millennia, Bats.”

“Informational gathering, right, Hal?” Flashgot out of the headlock, quickly munching on his snacks to stop Green Lantern from stealing them.

“Totally. Yup.”

“…Fine.”

“Wait, are we just gonna ignore that Gotham’s waters are full of bodies?”

“Yes.”

——

“What?” Danny asked, mind half on the bags he’s dragging out of the water and the other half on the essay he has to submit in about four hours.

“Green Lantern wanted to invite you out for a drink.”

Danny turned to the stoic Gotham knight, who had his wrist computer out to log the bodies’ info the moment Danny gave him the information. Some of them even told Danny who murdered them, so Batman could start building cases with solid leads.

Danny’s only twenty. He’s not legal yet but he doesn’t want to give any clues to who he is. How is he supposed to…

Ah!

“Can’t.” Danny shrugged. “I’m not legal. I died when I was fourteen so…” Danny trailed off, speechless at the drowned puppy face Batman was giving him. What the fuck.

“Anyways, fork over my payment.”

Batman wordlessly hands him a wad of hundreds.

“What do you need cash for?” Batman suddenly asked.

“Huh? Isn’t it obvious?” Danny tucked it in. “Material things, obviously. I need a blanket,” because holy shit, Gotham is damn cold this time of year. “Anyways, see you same time next week, litterer.”

“I don’t litter.”

“Tell that to the batarangs I found under the water,” Danny grumbled. “But I’ll stop calling you that if you get a signature from Poison Ivy. I have a friend who loves her.”

“An alive friend?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?”

Danny snickered and disappeared. He’s gotta cram that essay.

——

“There’s a possibility Phantom might be homeless.”

“Batman, I mean this in the nicest way, but for the love of Atlantis, please stop giving me headaches. It’s time like these I wish I stayed a lighthouse keeper.”

[gaypeople]

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE 1.06 | Like Angels Put in Hell by God

[tgtbata]

earlyseason!sam/lateseason!dean

[zepskies]

MUSIC PLAYLIST

YouTube || Spotify

Between the City & the Stars

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

👀 Sneak Peek of Part 1:

“So will you help me?” you asked him. Sam nodded.

“Yes, I’ll look into your husband and try to find some evidence of his…extracurricular affairs.”

Your lips pursed. “And how long will it take?”

Since you were being so direct, Sam levelled you with honesty.

“It may take time,” he said. “Realistically, we’re looking at months, even after I find what we need… It would be easier to legally separate.”

You had been slowly deflating the more he spoke, but now your expression became stony.

“Mr. Winchester," you began. "I don’t want to just be separated. I don’t want to live in our apartment, let alone share his bed or wear his last name."

Despite your best efforts, your voice began to shake. Tears welled up and stung in your eyes.

“I don’t want anything from him, other than his signature on the damn papers," you said. "The case is that I can no longer tolerate that man in my sight, much less in my life. Will you help me? Or should I look for another lawyer who will actually do his job.”

Sam and Dean shared a glance. For his part, Dean couldn’t remember the last time he heard a woman curse.

Read Part 1 now!

Dean Winchester Tag List (Part 1):

**Revised tag list! Going to prioritize those who interact with most of the fics and posts that they've requested to be tagged in (beyond "likes"). 💜

@luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato @winchestergirl2 @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl @thebiggerbear

@globetrotter28 @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester

@rizlowwritessortof @k-slla @jackles010378 @alwaystiredandconfused @nancymcl

@this-is-me19 @spnwoman @illicithallways @pieandmonsters @deansbbyx

@mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @cheynovak @jollyhunter

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @aylacavebear @jessjad

@kmc1989 @siampie @rubyvhs @masked-lost-girl @spnbabe67

@deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @impala-dreamer @legalmente-loca @sanscas

[lady-phasma]

Fangtober Day 5 - Impact play

Lestat x fem!reader

Warnings: MDNI 18+, spanking, mostly just explicit language/descriptions, no smut, 771 words

a/n: some of this month’s drabbles will just be kinky D/s fluff, no smut, like this little one about Lestat spanking reader. fem!reader not described but human

Lestat patted his knee twice. Your face went hot, but you were exited. You enjoyed this a bit more than you were supposed to. He knew it. You hadn’t done anything wrong, but you had been a little sassy in your reply, knowing full well the ramifications.

You walked over and stood in front of him. You didn’t have to wait long before he reached up and unfastened your jeans. He pulled them down, underwear too, with his fingers hooked in the waistbands. You shivered as your skin was exposed to the air. Or, perhaps, with anticipation.

“Across my thighs, on your stomach, you know what to do, petite.” Lestat’s voice was low and trimmed with a slight growl. That tone could make you do anything.

“Yes, Sir,” you replied as you turned and arranged yourself across his legs. You wished desperately that there were a more graceful way to do this, but once you were in position you felt mostly comfortable. You soon stopped caring that your arms had to hang, not quite reaching the floor, one hand sometimes clutching Lestat’s calf. He began to smooth a hand from your lower back to the tops of your thighs. You took a deep breath and tried to relax. It was incredibly difficult because this ‘punishment’ was one of your favorites.

“I think ten will suffice,” Lestat said quietly. “Remember our word.” You nodded.

His hand was cool as it rested against your buttocks. From past experience, you knew he would restrain himself from using all of his strength. Nevertheless, this could be intense with him. The first swat against your ass was little more than just that. You exhaled a soft grunt, then counted out “one.” A gentle stroke of his hand was followed by a louder thwack on your other cheek.

“Two,” but this word came out as a groan. Lestat caressed the heat on your skin gently then another thwack, alternating sides again.

“Three,” you moaned and exhaled deeply. Your couldn’t control the slight wiggle in your hips, but you didn’t shy away from his hand.

“Four,” you said a bit louder as the sting from his hand settled into your skin. The sensation made your cunt twitch, the wetness seeming to drip out of you already.

“Five,” with this one you heard Lestat moan faintly. You could only imagine the his side of this experience: the heat of your skin against his hand, the way your thighs trembled, and his hand probably didn’t tingle like a human’s would have. But he enjoyed it no less.

“Six,” you yelped. He had brought his hand down in a way that was sharper, not harder, and this time the sound and the sting made your cunt leak down your thighs. You face was almost as hot as your ass as gravity pulled the blood into your downturned head. You felt nearly high from being slightly inverted and the near-pain from Lestat’s hand.

“Seven.” The groan that was pulled from you with this slap was obscene and you felt Lestat shift his hips slightly underneath you, a hint of his erection pressing softly into your side.

“Eight!” The crack of his hand against your inflamed skin was disproportionate to the sensation, but that sound turned you on almost at much as the feeling. Before he lifted his hand again he let his cool fingers linger over the welts that had begun to form. The last two were always the hardest.

“Nine,” you heard a whine in your voice, not quite a sob, but close. Lestat barely waited before administering the last.

“Ten!” You gasped and moaned again. Your cunt clenched around nothing, aching, needy, but helpless to do anything about it. You felt his hand begin the soothing strokes again, only this time he let his fingers trail between your thighs, brushing so softly against your lips that you almost cried out. Your moan came out nearly breathlessly before he moved his hand back to your ass.

���Good girl,” Lestat said softly, affectionately. “You may stand now.”

You whimpered and let your feet rest on the floor. You pressed yourself up from his thighs and stood on slightly shaky legs. You felt your wetness sliding between your thighs. Gently, Lestat put his hands on your hips, turned you to face him, and guided you to stand between his now-spread legs. You looked down at his face, then at his pants, tight across his hard cock. You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth.

“My very good girl,” he murmured as he slid his hands to your warm buttocks and kissed your belly.

Fangtober 2024 prompt list • Main masterlist

[soap-is-an-artist]

so i went crazy and did this in about 4 hours. got possessed by the spirit of southern vampire man Samuel Collins and decided my life could not continue unless i drew him That Instant. so here yall go

[that-fox-thing]

🌙♊️ Lumini ♊️🌙

[fresthered]

i'm on time. don't even worry about it

[penumbra-mayhem]

The Answer - Sam/Darlin’ fic

Darlin’ gives Sam their answer on whether or not they want to be a vampire.

(I hc Darlin’ with a stutter, more on that here)

—————————————————

Sam had woken in the late evening, bed empty next to him from when Darlin’ had left for a gig hours before. Having no work that night, he carried through his “morning” routine in languor, record playing, windows open, coffee brewing.

He filled the time waiting for Darlin’s return researching new places to live. The new position Gabriela had offered him paid well, but certainly less than he made now. Once he officially left the Solaire House, they’d have to downsize considerably and possibly (he shuddered at the thought) move closer to the city.

Just after 1 am, Sam heard the rumble of Darlin’s bike as they pulled up to the house. Rising from his desk, he headed to the front door to greet them. They beat him to it, rushing inside as they yanked their gloves from their hands and shucked their jacket off.

“Hey,” Sam started, his voice quickly dying in his throat, “How was…work…”

Darlin’ was fumbling with the strap of their helmet, a weak whine leaking from their throat as they struggled. Sam closed the distance between them and grasped their hands, drawing them away from the strap and replacing them with his own.

He unclasped it and slid the helmet off, taking care to not catch it on any of their piercings, before placing it on the coat rack.

Sam could feel Darlin’s core whirring. “Rough gig?” he asked, wincing when Darlin’ actively avoided his gaze.

They gave a half-shrug, their voice feeble, “Something l-l-l-like tha-that.”

Then they were retreating towards the door, muttering before Sam could speak, “I-I-I’m going for-for a run.”

—————————————————

The next few hours were…tense. Sam tried to keep up the house hunt, but found himself staring at an empty search bar until his eyes were strained and his head was buzzing.

He finished his coffee, refilled his mug, then downed it again. He cranked the volume up on his record player and kept the front door open so he could hear the music from the porch.

Nothing could calm his nerves. Not the music. Not the crickets and frogs. Not even the coffee. He sat on the top porch step, resigned to wait for Darlin’, unable to focus on anything else until he knew they were okay.

—————————————————

Sam could smell them before he could see them; the wind carried their sharp, smoky scent through the trees. That alone helped to ease his anxiety a bit.

Soon after, Darlin’ stalked out of the surrounding forest, still in their shifted form. Tongue hanging from their open jaw, their breath came out in heavy pants as they made their way to the house.

He said nothing as they approached. Instead, he placed his mug down beside him and scanned their body from afar for any injuries they might have sustained on their run.

Claws clicked against wood as Darlin’ climbed the porch steps and heaved their head onto Sam’s lap. His hands untangled the wind from their fur with delicate fingers and careful strokes; the two stayed that way for a long time before Darlin’ shifted back.

They kept their head in Sam’s lap. They didn’t move at all.

Sam was about to break the silence when they finally found their voice.

“I-I can’t d-do it-it.”

Sam’s hands only halted in their hair for a moment before continuing. After they didn’t elaborate, he asked, “Do what?”

Darlin’ didn’t respond. Tracing his fingertips down their left arm, he brought their clenched fist to his lips before asking again, “Darlin’, what can’t you do?”

Darlin’ slowly pulled their hand out of Sam’s grasp, then raised their head from his lap. Making themself into a ball on the step, they continued to avoid Sam’s gaze, looking down at the steps before them instead. They took a trembling breath.

Then it came out, all at once, their voice thick with guilt:

“I-I’ve b-b-b-been thinking since y-you asked mmmme—and-and then t-t-t-today sssomeone mmmade a-a joke at-at wwwork about mmme t-turning. They d-didn’t even knnnnow you asked b-but it-it just…I…I-I can’t t-t-turn. I’m sorry.”

Sam’s stomach turned.

“It’s nnnot b-b-because I-I don’t wwwant t-to b-be wwwwith you. I-I p-p-promise. I’ve just wwworked so-so hard to get wwwwwhere I-I am wwwith the p-pack and wwwith mmmy own wwwwolf, and I-I don’t wwwant to l-lose that—b-but I-I don’t wwwant to l-lose you either…I-I’m ssso sorry.”

There it was again, that apology. It made Sam’s stomach sour.

Darlin’ looked scared shitless. They stayed completely still as Sam scooted closer to them and wrapped his arms around their tightened frame. Even when he pulled them into his chest, even when he kissed the top of their head and ran his fingers through their hair, they didn’t move. All their movement was centered in their chest, their heart a flurry of palpitations.

“You have nothin’ to apologize for, love. Absolutely nothin’,” he promised, kissing their head once again, “I’m so glad you told me. I’m so…” He took a moment to steady himself as the tears pooling in his eyes threatened to crack his voice. “I’m so proud of you.”

Darlin’ pulled back in confusion, asking, “P-Proud?” They blanched at the sight of Sam’s glassy eyes. “Y-You’re crying.”

“Happy tears, darlin’,” he assured them as said tears began to slide down his cheeks. Despite the fear and uncertainty of how Sam really felt lodged in their chest, Darlin’ couldn’t help but reach out to brush the tears away. Sam leaned into their touch instinctively, pressing his cheek and then his lips into their palm.

“I’m proud that you told me,” he explained, his voice muffled by their hand. As he moved closer, they dropped their hand. Sam let them, holding their gaze whenever their flitting eyes met his.

“I know that must have been scary—terrifyin’, really, if it felt anythin’ like it did for me when I asked you about turnin’. So yes, I’m proud that you told me.”

He grasped Darlin’s hands. As more tears appeared, their paths were pulled into the lines of his beaming smile. “I’m proud that you made the choice you wanted, not what you thought I wanted. And I’m so happy you get to make that choice. That you get to decide whether you turn or not. That’s why I asked in the first place. To let you know that it was your decision. No one else’s.”

“You’re nnnot disap-p-pointed?”

Sam pulled them into his arms once more, kissing their lips before answering, “Never. I’m not disappointed. I don’t feel betrayed. There is only pride and love in my heart for you.”

“I-I’m gonna grow old,” they admitted, their arms tight around his torso.

“Yes. And what a beautiful thing.”

“…b-but you wwwon’t.”

Sam frowned. “Maybe not physically. But in spirit? In the ways that matter? We’ll grow old together.”

Darlin’ kissed his shoulder before pulling their head back and meeting Sam’s gaze, a delicate smile on their lips.

“I-I’d l-l-like that.”

[crowcage]

hmf destiel coming soon mayb

[biggentlemenking]

Pretty criers. Pretty crier Sam. Dean likes watching him and gently drying his tears, maybe licking them. But to do that he needs Sam to cry. Would he hurt him? Maybe with words? Or would he make others hurt him. Manipulate him so that he would come cry in between Dean's arms every time something happened. Since they were kids probably. Sam never grew out of it, Dean never let him. Dean calling Sam 'his crybaby' while kissing him all over the face to comfort him.

[jackobbit]

ITS ALIVE!! ITS ALIIIIVEEE!!

Please forgive the jankiness of it, I haven’t animated since I was 14 and I had no clue how to use this app

But yay!! I can officially make my blorbo move :]

[fulesthefirst]

Dracula, a Comedy of Terrors || Interview with the Vampire (2022-)

Ancient vampires assimmilating into modern society.

[zepskies]

WRITING GAME

Thanks @supernotnatural2005 and @jollyhunter for tagging me in this little WIP game! 💜

From my understanding, it's posting a "sneak peek" kind of snippet for a current WIP. I released one for Part 2 of Between the City & the Stars (Dean W. x reader 1940s AU) at the end of Part 1, but here's another snippet:

Dean glanced at you in appreciation. You really were beautiful…and not just tonight. Though he had to smile at your “disguise.”

“You think that getup is gonna fool your husband?” he remarked, gesturing at your form.

Your lips pursed, but you kept your head angled towards him, so that your hat and veil continued to hide your face from Michael’s direction.

“It has so far,” you retorted. “And this isn’t a getup.”

You smoothed slightly self-conscious hands down the skirt of your dress. Dean smiled. 

“All right, I’m sorry. Poor choice of words,” he said. He dropped his chin and raised his brows, earning your gaze under the hat. “It’s quite a dress, sweetheart.”

No pressure tags: @luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato @artyandink @deanbrainrotwritings

@kazsrm67 @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @chevroletdean @rizlowwritessortof @waynes-multiverse (I know you just dropped a bunch of awesome snippets, Wayne, but I couldn't resist including you on here!)