#tired of feeling at odds with everybody and everything

[b1eedthefreak]

hey queen i love all of your works so much they make my day💕can i request season 1-2 daryl with a female reader who likes to use a baby voice to talk with him when they are cuddling? sorry if this sounds odd but ive seen this tiktok here and got obsessed😭: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMBT14y8j/

⋆ 𐙚 ̊. Sweet Talk

⌇daryl dixon x reader

⌇summary: you find a stray dog on the farm and start babying it, Daryl doesn’t get it. But later that night, when you use that same voice on him, he stops complaining real quick.

⌇warnings: fluff, reader uses a baby voice with daryl

word count: 2.3k

a/n STAWPP THANK YOU SO MUCH :33 YOU MADE MY DAY! (i wrote this instead of doing my math homework)

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The air had that sweet early fall stillness, all golden light and the hum of insects. It was the first time in weeks you felt warm, not just from the sun, but from the fabric on your skin. Beth had finally helped you sort through the laundry piles in the Greene household, letting you borrow a soft skirt and a little cotton tee that didn’t smell like barn or walker guts. You felt human again. Maybe even pretty.

You were humming something as you made your way through the field, a basket of random supplies hugged to your hip. Daryl was just ahead, posted up near the fence line with his crossbow over his shoulder. Probably meant to be keeping watch but the second you caught sight of the little dog nosing around the tall grass, everything else left your head.

“Ohhh my gosh!” you gasped, crouching low. “Heyyy sweet baby…”

The dog, a scruffy little mutt with floppy ears and a tail that wagged so hard it nearly knocked him over, ambled right up to you like you were already his.

“Hi handsome,” you cooed, voice going soft and syrupy. “Aren’t you just the cutest wittle man I’ve ever seen?”

Daryl turned his head, brows pinched. “The hell you talkin’ like that for?”

You barely glanced up at him, too busy ruffling behind the dog’s ears as he panted happily against your knee.

“I think someone’s jealous I’m givin’ you more attention than him,” you said sweetly to the pup, kissing his little nose with a smile. “Poor wittle Dawwy Bear feels left out.”

Daryl scoffed and shook his head, turning back toward the woods. “Ain’t no damn ‘Dawwy Bear,’” he muttered, but you didn’t miss the way he pouted.

That night, the farm had gone still.

Everyone had tucked themselves away early, tired from hauling supplies, mending fences, scraping together a half decent dinner. Your tent smelled like cedar and fresh hay, the little lantern beside your blanket casting a low, golden glow.

You were curled up, waiting. The zipper peeled open, and Daryl stepped inside.

He said nothing, just kicked off his boots, ducked his head, and crawled in beside you like muscle memory. You rolled over to face him, your hand already reaching to comb through the messy strands of his hair.

His eyes were half lidded, lashes low. He looked exhausted.

“Awww,” you whispered, voice soft and high pitched, almost a purr. “Are you tiiiired, baby?”

Daryl groaned, eyes closing. “Goddamn it. Again with the damn voice?”

You giggled and brushed his bangs back. “You looked so sleepy, baby. Just wanna take care of you.” You said dragging out every syllable.

He huffed but didn’t pull away. In fact, his hand found your hip under the blanket, grounding himself there like he needed the contact.

“You’re real weird, y’know that?” he muttered.

“Mhm,” you said, smiling.

You leaned in, brushing your nose against his and pressing a kiss to his lips. He didn’t even pretend to fight it. His mouth moved slow against yours, his grip on your hip tightening just slightly.

“Poor baby’s been workin’ sooo hard,” you whispered as you kissed his jaw, his cheek, then the corner of his mouth again. “Protectin’ everybody… guardin’ the farm… bet your muscles are all sore…”

“Shit,” he murmured under his breath, eyes shut tight like he was trying not to react.

You nuzzled under his chin, your fingers petting through his hair again.

Then, just as you were about to press another kiss to his skin, you felt it, Daryl rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. Slow. Barely there. Like a shy cat.

You grinned against his throat. “Mmm… I thought you didn’t like it, hmmm?”

He exhaled, quiet and long.

“…Only when it’s you doin’ it.”

Your heart clenched.

You shifted just enough to kiss him again, sweet and slow, cradling his face with both hands as if he might vanish.

“Then I’m never gonna stop,” you whispered.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. He just pulled you closer, burying his face in your neck with a quiet, content sigh.

And that night, Daryl had slept better than he had in months.

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[hi-i-love-u-bitch]

I have a funny crack headcannon that the first time Shadow truly got his ass beat by Sonic was when he accidentally made Tails cry.

Like Tails is a tough kid and doesn't really cry much in general, and usually when Team Sonic and Shadow are at odds with each other they kinda have a "leave it all behind on the battle field" type of mentality. Because eventually they'll figure everything out by the end and team up to defeat the big bad and yada, yada, yada. The exception to this happened once and everybody involved was traumatizing by it.

Shadow usually aims to take Tails out first because if you take out the brains of the group then everyone else is soon to follow (and lets be honest, Tails is the sole braincell of Team Sonic). On this particular day Tails had been having a bit of a rough week, having decided on a whim to update all his tech and accidentally stayed up for about 3 days straight. Add to the fact that right after they were tossed into whatever shenanigans the universe decided to cook up that week, so even less chance for rest or even a proper meal. So there he was: tired, hungry, cranky, and dealing with whatever emo bullshit Shadow decided was everybody else is problem in that moment. Then Shadow hits him, hard enough to go flying across the field they were fighting in and crash into a nearby tree. It was the usual business, and usually he would get right back up and into battle again. Not this time apparently, because this time his sleep, cranky, 8yr old brain decided that he was at his limit today.

When I tell you the battlefield froze and went dead silent the moment Tails' is tiny, cries pierced the air, I mean it was so still you could hear a nat sneeze. In mere SECONDS, everybody from the opposing team was on the ground because Sonic super sped through them like a god damn freight train before anxiously hovering over his sobbing little brother. Shadow does not think he's ever seen the blue hedgehog so worried before, not when the world was ending, not at the possibility of certain death, not even when he's forced to interact with large bodies of water. Usually, this would be about the time Shadow would tease Sonic for being too soft or getting distracted so easily, but also, he kind of feels a bit bad about it. He's never heard Tails cry before, and it sort of freaked him out because he was suddenly reminded that Tails was, in fact, still just a kid. So yeah, he kinda just kept his mouth shut and laid on the ground with his broken nose as he listened to Sonic and his friends dote and fuss over the crying little fox.

It was over rather quickly, Tails is mewling wails teetering off into wobbly little hiccups as he tried to assure everyone that he was indeed fine. Now a lot calmer the little genius seemed a bit embarrassed about all the fuss he was causing. Yet still Sonic fussed over him a bit more, a corny joke or two tossed in the mix just so he could get a shaky giggle out his fox friend. And it seemed like everything was back to normal again, like Sonic would say one of his usual dorky one liner along with a thumbs up and a wink before charging his team back into battle.

The whiplash Shadow got was both figurative and literal.

One moment he was still lying on the ground contemplating the least awkward way to get back into the swing of things, the next he was being dragged across island at super sonic speed by the neck. When they inevitably crashed it was into the side wall of a mountain right near the outskirts of Green Hill. For all the firsts that Shadow was witnessing today by far the most outlandish (and scariest) was Sonic angry. True pure anger that could out power the chaos emeralds, the look of it burned into Shadow like a hot iron brand as Sonic just started clobbering him. Shadow could usual tank a punch from Sonic, no problem, the guy was built for speed not combat. But that is where the problem lied, though he wasn't as strong as Shadow he could still throw a good punch, now add in speed while being hit repeatedly in the exact same places. Sonic practically dragged Shadow around like a rag-doll, all at a speed that had them flying around Green Hill like a ball in a pinball machine. Shadow couldn't even get hit in himself Sonic was going so fast, he could barely manage to block.

Who knows how long Sonic would have kept going; the morbid thought of Sonic just just punching into Shadow's bloody face until he hit the ground flitted across the dark hedgehog's fuzzy mind. But fortunately for him their teammates were able to catch up to them and separate them. Well, it was more Knuckles and Amy having to forcefully drag Sonic away while Rouge and Omega put themselves as a barricade in front of Shadow just in case the blue manic escaped. Sonic was still absolutely livid, hissing and growling while Amy and Knuckles struggled to keep him pinned to the ground. Tails hurries in a few moments later, landing right in front of his fuming older brother trying to regain his focus away from Shadow. They were in this sort of tentative stalemate for a while, Tails and the rest trying desperately to calm Sonic down while Rouge quietly tends to Shadow's not yet healed wounds and Omega stands guard. Suddenly, it's silent once more and Team Dark looks over to find the once feral hedgehog passed out, with his friends looking relieved and tired. Turns out that Tails couldn't get Sonic to calm down enough to be safe so they decided it was best to sedated him and take him home. Sure they still had a big bad to defeat but they knew nothing would get done once Sonic woke up and saw Shadow again. Rouge assured that Team Dark could handle it on their own once they were all patched up. Knuckles promised to come back in as backup once they got Sonic to Tails' is house. Tails advised Shadow that he should probably avoid Sonic for at least a week just so he can cool down a bit.

Shadow decided that a month was a much safer option.

Everything sort of went back to normal after that; when Sonic woke up he apologized to Tails and his friends for getting so out of control like that. He truly did seem ashamed of himself and looked to be back to his usual chipper attitude. When Shadow showed back up a month later, trying with all his might to act casual and NOT bring up "the incident", everyone seemed happy at his return. Though Sonic seemed to be keeping his distance but Shadow could tell it wasn't due to any sort of guilt or anxiety that Shadow may still be upset with him. But he kept watching Shadow, that bright smile never faltering but also never quite reaching his eyes.

After that, Shadow chose to avoid Tails in combat when he could.

[vamp0rivm]

Can u do a drabble or hcs on cuddling Ellie?

Ur writing is so good I love everything U write :>

WREATHE

warnings: not much, mostly fluff, basically the rq, mdni with my account tho😏

a/n: IM SO SORRY THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR I KID YOU NOT LIKE HALF A YEAR IM GENUINELY SO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME 😰 thank you so much for sending the rq even though i took the piss responding, also this is a drabble bc i don’t think i’d be good at doing hcs 😭 i have some shit coming up at uni so i prolly won’t put anything out for a while but i have an idea for a new fic in the drafts !!! very excited…

ramadan has started which means israel’s violence against the Palestinian people will worsen as it does every year, purely for the sake of inflicting even more psychological torture on them. please, now more than ever, pray for them if you’re religious, talk about palestine, boycott, protest, strike, donate if you can, contact the people in charge. don’t let people forget. here’s a link to some details on the situation. everybody stay safe 💗.

10:47 - you return from a strenuous day of patrol and odd jobs around Jackson. You’re slightly tipsy, a drink or two from the Tipsy Bison churning a pool of warmth within your stomach.

The place is stagnant when you push the door open, as if coming home to nobody.

Ellie must’ve gone to bed early today.

You drift to the bathroom despite the fact that the house feels apocalyptic, and sit in the gentle rush of water, scrubbing your skin weakly with aching arms.

When you enter your room, everything is still, except for the rhythmic rise and fall of Ellie’s figure beneath the covers on the bed backed against the wall.

You throw the dampened towel that is slung over your shoulder carelessly and walk over to the bed, gently settling beside her.

For a while, you feel content. Sleep is lulling you in, the room is shadowy, the bed is warm, and the sound of Ellie’s deep-sleep-breaths (totally not snores at all, she swears) are soft like TV static in the back of your mind.

Your eyes are on the verge of fluttering closed for the last time tonight so you turn onto your side and nestle into yourself.

Then, there’s a harsh jolt and the bed shifts. You can feel Ellie’s puzzled gaze raking over you, the realisation that you’re home setting in, and your lips twist into a smile subconsciously. The night rarely ends without the inebriating buzz of affection.

A quiet sigh escapes the enclosure of her blush-pink lips before she reclines into the pillows once more, eyes never leaving the still curvature of your figure. Not a moment passes and her arms encircle your waist, warmth embracing your torso and pressing against your hair like a wreathe of absolute comfort.

A barely audible mumble tickles the helix of your ear,

“Hey, babe,” accompanied by the phantom touch of her lips against your cheeks in her half-asleep state. You scrunch your nose before turning into the love she offers you.

“Hey, Els.”

You begin to mumble butterfly details about the happenings of the day as you feel the surface of her skin raise with goosebumps under the delicate tracing of your fingertips - down her bare thighs, along the round of her hip, along her stomach and under her boobs - easing airy chuckles out of her.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Hm? Nothin’…”

You can already picture the smirk on her dazed face,

“Ya sure there? You want somethin’, babe?”

A playful scoff and she’s looking at you with feigned shock against the weight of tired eyelids,

“Can’t I feel you? I just wanna be close to you,”

“I’d say we’re pretty close, ya know?”

“Never close enough,” you clarify and the rasp of her laugh fades into silence and she presses a kiss onto your head, and then another, straining her neck till she’s face to flushed and grinning face, stringing a blizzard of soft, dewy kisses across it.

“Alright, alright!”

“One more- mwah,” she smacks her lips against your scrunched up mouth aggressively, leaving a gross patch of saliva, and smiles dumbly to herself, tightening the hold of her arms around you to which you groan.

Tight against her gentle sway, she mutters a quiet confirmation,

“Never close enough,” and then runs the rough pads of her fingertips along the expanse of your skin, lingering a moment on your thighs.

It’s like the rustle of a spring breeze and it draws your eyes to a close.

As you drift further from the surface, you feel the soft tingle of Ellie’s foot nudging your ankle and the distant haze of her voice whispering,

“You sure you don’t want anything, baby?” and you’re asleep.

also, absolutely no one asked for this but here are some pictures of my fat ass cat (cutest patootie evah 😆😆):

[grapejuice32]

jj x reader who’s struggling with bad mental health? as long as you’re comfortable!!! or you could do it with rafe!!

masterlist here JJ x reader

word count: 2k c/n: bad mental health, body image issues, eating issues, mentions of past self harm.

The midday sun leaked through the gaps in the curtains, reminding you of how late into the day it was as you stared aimlessly at the painted ceiling. You’d been awake for hours, but you didn’t have the will or the energy to get up, your phone was lost somewhere in the sheets, not that you cared much for it at the moment, feeling sick and tired of the device. JJ had gotten up at some point not long after you’d woken up, going to catch fish in his boat for the bait shop, you couldn’t recall how long he’s been gone, but you were somewhat glad for the lack of his presence, feeling nothing but disgusted by yourself at the moment. It wasn’t uncommon for you to have bad days like this every now and then, but recently, you were having more bad days than good ones, in fact you could only remember having bad days for the past week and a half and it was exhausting. Everybody was at sort of a loss with how to help you, well mostly everyone, JJ was mostly aware of what you needed, but even he struggled when you had the days where you barely even spoke, days like the ones you’d had the past week and a half. 

You’d known JJ, John B and Pope since you were thirteen, and they had never known you not to struggle with your mental health and had thought that sometimes you just didn’t like to talk, their prepubescent minds writing your odd behaviour off to ‘girl things’. It was only when Kiara became a part of the group that it slowly dawned on them that maybe you weren’t the way you were because of ‘girl things’ and it was her who told them that the way you acted sometimes wasn’t normal, that she thought you perhaps had mental health issues. They all sympathised greatly but they didn’t know how to help, and they felt at a loss, they always accommodated you on your bad days, gave you the space they assumed you’d need.

You and JJ had started dating when the both of you were seventeen and his goal was to learn how to help you through your bad days but unfortunately, fate had put the pogues through a series of events which made it difficult for him to try and help you, from John B’s ‘death’ to losing the gold, to the cross, to the poguelandia, to South America, to finally having enough money to buy the old Maybank property and creating poguelandia 2.0, making it impossible for him to learn how to help you when everything was so chaotic and every changing. But now, eighteen months into living in poguelandia 2.0, everything had finally settled, the chaos of your lives in the past as you all created a mundane, yet beautiful life for yourselves. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel that everyone but you was getting their shit together, Kie and her girlfriend devoted all their love to what was important to them, things like nature and animal reserves, Pope and Cleo were putting their hearts fully into the business, for Pope it meant he could finally help give back to his dad, John B and Sarah were legally married and were expecting a baby, JJ finally had everything he had ever wanted, a home. 

You felt ungrateful, you felt pathetic, JJ’d had it awful growing up, courtesy of Luke Maybank, and yet he still thrived in life, never losing hope, meanwhile you, who’d had a tame upbringing compared to him, struggled out get out of bed, barley managing to look in the mirror without crying on your bad days. No matter what you did, you always fell back into old habits, habits that you swore time and time again to JJ that you wouldn’t return to, but you couldn’t help it. You’d tried all sorts, meditating, exercising, painting, yoga, none of it stuck, journaling had managed to help for a bit, that was until the motivation to write in it disappeared. It’s not as though you wanted to resort to your old habits, the scars on your arms a permanent reminder that you would never be as level-headed as the others, that there was something wrong with you. 

You weren’t entirely aware of how much time had passed before you finally pulled yourself out of bed, only to use the toilet. But on the way back, you were inevitably faced with the floor length mirror that was in your and JJ’s room, you couldn’t help but stop in front of it, staring at yourself in nothing but sheer disgust. You stood there taking in everything you hated about yourself, and as if you only wanted to make yourself feel worse, you pulled JJ’s shirt off and stared at your body, only clad in your underwear. You took your stretch marks and scars that tainted your skin, the shape of your body that made you want to never let anyone see you again, the colour of your eyes that you hated, the way your hair made your face look, your skin, your nails, your bodily hair. All of it. You hated all of it. You hated yourself. Having been so consumed by staring at yourself, tears rolling down your cheeks, you hadn’t noticed the sound of JJ coming up the stairs and walking into the bedroom, you hadn’t noticed the way he stopped in the doorway before quietly closing the door and leaning against it as he watched you in silence, tears welling in his own eyes at the sight of the girl he loved hating everything about herself. You were so absorbed in your self hatred that, despite the softness in his tone, the sound of his voice calling out your name made you jump. You only hummed in response, not looking at him as you wrapped your arms around yourself self-consciously. 

He sighed and walked towards you, sitting on the end of the bed, “We’re all thinking of hitting the beach, good waves today. You gonna come with?” But you only shook your head, only making brief eye contact with him when your gaze flickered away from your own reflection to his in the mirror.  

“I um, I’m just gonna go back to bed,” you whispered, your voice coming out as more of a croak due to your recent lack of speaking paired with your lack of drinking. 

But he shook his head and stood up from the bed, moving to stand behind you, “Nah, I don’t think so, baby. You can’t just go back to bed.”

“I don’t feel good,” you mumbled, looking at his reflection in the mirror with teary eyes.

He smiled sadly at you and gently placed his hands on your arms, his ring clad fingers cool against your warm skin, “I know you’re not, darlin’, but going back to bed’s not gonna help you feel better.”

“You don’t know that,” you argued weakly, a small sigh leaving your parted lips as his hands ran up and down your arms in a comforting manner.

He leant down and rested his chin on your shoulder, “I do,” he nodded, giving you a stern yet loving look as you opened your mouth to protest, “and you know it too. You’ve been staying in bed, alone, for nearly two weeks now, baby.” You didn’t say anything, your gaze dropping to the floor, tears blurring your vision. He sighed and placed a featherlight kiss to the jugular of your neck, “If you’re not coming to the beach, will you let me stay here with you?” When you shook your head, he just placed another kiss to your skin, “Please? I don’t like you being in here on your own. Just let me stay with you.”

Your hesitation was clear from the way you remained still, your body stiffening as his hands slipped from your arms so that he could wrap his muscular arms around your waist, the waist you hated with everything in you. You worried that if he touched it for too long that he’d begin to hate it too. But still, he kept trying, “You can go back to bed, okay? Just let me lay in bed with you.” You agreed, his final offer sounding like the best one you’d get if it meant you got to go back to bed. Even though the both of you were laying there together, you hadn’t let him touch you, not at first anyway. You’d pulled his shirt back over you and as soon as the both of you were in bed, you’d turned your back to him. It took a while, but you eventually turned to face him, seeking the comfort of his arms as you felt the overwhelming urge to cry but were unable to let the tears out. He'd silently taken you into his arms, running his fingers through your hair and scratching your scalp the way he knew you liked. 

The two of you had continued like that for a while, and now you found yourself in the shower. You hadn’t had the energy to shower for at least four days and JJ knew that being unclean for any longer would only make you feel worse about yourself, so after minutes of gentle words, he managed to coax you into the shower. He didn’t feel great about you being in there on your own, not when it was clear to him just how low you were feeling. You’d somehow agreed to him coming in with you, so there the both of you stood as he brushed and washed your hair with all the various products he knew you liked. He felt just awful, he couldn’t believe he’d let it come this far without trying to intervene sooner, but he just felt so useless when you got like this. He did all that he could do to try and help you, he brought you food and drinks, despite them going untouched, he confiscated all the items you could have used to potentially harm yourself, he tried to do everything in his power to stop you from feeling worse, but he just didn’t know how to make it go away no matter how much he wished he could. When he washed out the shampoo and had combed the conditioner through your hair, he squeezed the scented body soap onto his palms and began to spread it across your body, lathering it on your skin. 

After the shower he helped you semi dry your hair and had gotten you to sit on the bed, he retrieved your body moisturiser and slowly rubbed it into your skin, taking his time on every inch of your body, leaving soft kisses as he went. He paid extra attention to the parts of yourself he knew you disliked the most, everytime he reached a new spot on your body he told you what about it he loved so much, each and every reason boiling down to the fact that they were a part of you, and he reminded you that he loved all of you, even if you didn’t. While his sweet gestures left you in tears, feeling so loved yet so confused as to how he loved you, you still felt awful and he knew that, and so he lay back in bed with you. The next day, he washed the bedding and managed to get you to eat something, the day after that he coaxed you into going outside, just to sit in the sun for half an hour, and he kept doing so until you finally you were pulled from the swell of depression that has been holding you captive. The next spell of bad days hit you only four days after you’d been feeling better and you had tried to go back to confining yourself to bed, that was what made him realise he couldn’t just fix you and make it all disappear. But what he did get learn, after years of trying to decipher what to do to aid you, was that you just needed him to be there for you, to help you complete those tasks like simply brushing your teeth or going in the shower, because it was those things that helped to keep you somewhat grounded. He learned that the way you felt about yourself would probably never wash away, and it broke his heart but he always, always made sure that you knew that he loved all of you, every single part. 

[liliacamethyst]

just curious if there's an extra angsty alternative drabbles because i love ur work ! like in a scenario where sun-spider isn't able to care for herself because the pregnancy is taking a toll on her or she got extremely ill OR EVEN GETTING EXTREMELY injured during a mission and lets say the gang is too caught up with spider society business to check on her, how would miguel react then?

ill leave the actual state of sun-spider in your hands 🤭

A LETTER FROM THE SUN

Thank you so much for your request, I really liked your idea- So here's an extra , extra ANGSTY (trigger warning) alternative universe Drabble. I got a little bit carried away I really hope you still enjoy it 💚:

You can barely see through the spots dancing before your eyes as you stagger back to your apartment on Earth 586. You don't remember the walk home from the doctor's office but somehow, you made it back. The weight of the doctor's words still echo in your ears, "The childbirth... It's too dangerous. You won't survive."

It's not that you're not scared; you are, very much so. But more than that, you're filled with a fierce determination - for your child and for the world you've sworn to protect. And so, you put your mask, pull on your suit, and step into the battle once more, fighting harder than you ever have before.

But behind the brave facade, you're struggling. You're tired, your energy gone by the demands of your pregnancy and your duty as Spider-Sun. You're having to deal with the pains and discomforts that come with carrying a child, exacerbated by the unrelenting strain of your battles.

You retreat to Earth 586, hoping to find some solace and respite in your own universe. But instead, your responsibilities there seem to compound your exhaustion. There are still threats to confront, villains to vanquish, innocents to save. You're fighting two wars at the same time - one for your world, and one for your life.

The spider society is oblivious to your struggles. They are wrapped up in their own missions and agendas, too absorbed in saving the multiverse to notice your quiet battle for survival. The absence of concern from the team feels like a sting, a bitter pill to swallow, yet you say nothing, because you understand. So you hide your pain behind your bright smile and valiant spirit, because that's what you do best.

Still, as the days pass, your condition worsens. Your constant fatigue, the severe sickness and the frequent fainting spells- all signs that are hard to ignore. You're well aware that your body is pushing its limits but the love you have for your child growing inside of you keeps you from giving up. You've always fought against the odds, and you're not about to stop now - not when the stakes are that. Higher than they've ever been before.

You're fighting for two now, and that's all the motivation you need to keep going. You're ready to make the ultimate sacrifice for your child. And you'll face it with all the courage and determination that make you Spider-Sun.

-

Miguel, Gwen, Peter B, and Jess are on a mission in your Earth - Earth 586. It's been months since they've seen you, and Gwen and Peter are buzzing with excitement. Even Miguel, who maintains his stoic façade as always, has a glint in his eyes that hints at anticipation and excitement of the prospect of seeing his love again.

As they land, Gwen looks around, taking in the familiar surroundings of your world. "I can't believe it's been so long," she remarks, a hint of guilt in her voice. "We got so caught up in everything..."

Peter B chimes in, "Yeah, Sunny is gonna give us an earful for sure. I'm surprised she hasn't come to give us a welcome smack yet." His playful remark hangs in the air and everybody silently agrees.

They're here to deal with an anomaly, a Lizard-like opponent. Yet, as the fight breaks out, Peter can't help but wonder why you aren't here. This is your world, your neighborhood, your people. You're always there, ready to protect and serve. So where are you?

"Miguel!" Peter B shouts over the sounds of the fight. "Why isn't Sunny here? This is her world! Where is she?"

The fight ends sucessfully, with Jess instructed by Miguel to take the captive Lizard back to HQ. There's a tension in Miguel's voice, a sharpness that wasn't there before. He announces that he's going to look for you, his eyes flicking briefly towards the city, towards your home. “You guys go back and secure the ugly lizard. I will look where the hell Sunny is hiding.”

"We're coming with you," Gwen says firmly, Peter B nodding in agreement beside her. There's no room for argument in her voice. Miguel gives them a curt nod and so they swinf through Nea Yorkey searcing for their sun.

Gwen’s search for you leads her to knock on the doors of the neighbors in your building. Most people either shake their heads, claiming they haven't seen you, or slam the door in her face without a word. Gwen's worry deepens with each door she knocks on.

Finally, she finds a woman with a bunch of children screaming in the background. The woman looks frazzled, but she stops and listens to Gwen's questions. "Haven't seen her in days," the woman says, wiping her hands on her apron. "There was an ambulance here the other day, took her away. Ain't seen no light in her place since then."

Gwen feels as if the air has been sucked out of her lungs. She thanks the woman and rushes off to find Miguel and Peter B. Her words spill out in a rush, detailing what she found out. "Miguel," she gasps out. "Peter. Ambulance. Sunny's place."

Miguel's face goes deathly pale, and before Gwen or Peter B can react, he swings into the air, shooting webs and flying through the city with a speed and urgency that leaves them behind.

Gwen and Peter B look at each other and immediately follow, but Miguel is like a man possessed, a force of nature.

He reaches the hospital, and without a second thought, he barges through the doors. His heart is pounding in his chest, his breaths are short and ragged.

The reception desk nurses look up in surprise as Miguel, still in his Spider-Man 2099 suit, demands to know if you are in the hospital. There is a desperation as he speaks your name.

After a tense conversation with the hospital staff and almost being escorted out, Miguel is finally given the room number.

The world seems to stand still  around Miguel as he enters the room, only to find it empty. The nurse, busy tidying the space and remaking the bed, looks up in surprise at the sudden intrusion.

He's staring at the closed door when a nurse brushes past him, mumbling an apology. A sudden rush of fear and confusion go through him as he turns to see the empty hospital bed. His heart feels as if it's been ripped out from his chest. The room spins around him. Where are you?

"Excuse me, are you Miguel O'Hara?" A voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he turns to see another nurse, her face kind but weary. He can only nod, words failing him at the moment.

"Mr. O'Hara, she's not here anymore. She... she's not with us," the nurse says gently, her eyes filled with sympathy. She hands him an envelope. "She asked me to give this to you if you ever came looking for her."

"I am sorry," she adds quietly, before turning to leave. "I'll be right back with little Gabe."

Miguel doesnt register her words. His entire world feels as though it's come crashing down around him. He sinks onto the nearby chair, clutching the envelope tightly, his eyes staring blankly at it. He's too numb to even attempt to open it or even move.

Gwen and Peter B burst into the room then, worry clearly visible on their faces. "Miguel, what's going on?" Gwen asks urgently, rushing to his side. Peter B follows her but Miguel barely hears them, his blood rushing in his ears.

The world is blurry around him, sounds are muffled and distant. The room is empty, and you are not there. ‘No es real’ and ‘por favor vuelve a mi mi sol’ are the only things he can mumble over and over again tirelessly. The reality of it feels like a crushing weight on his chest and all he can do is sit there, holding onto the last piece of you he has left. 

Dear Miguel,

If you're reading this, then I am no longer in this world. 

I just wanted to let you know that it’s not your fault and no you couldn’t have saved me. I know how you are, Miguel. You always have been the man who would try to save the world single-handedly, even if it meant sacrificing yourself in the process. But this wasn't on you. This was my choice, my decision and I stand by it. I knew the risks and I am sorry I hurt you.

But here's the thing, I have no regrets. Our child...our Gabriel, he's my most cherished gift to you, Miguel. And I know you, with your awkward, nerdy charm and those terrible dad jokes you think are hilarious, will be an amazing father. You were born to be a dad - it's like your destiny. And guess what? This is your second chance to be the best dad you were always supposed to be.

I know you will protect our baby with every fiber of your being. That's just who you are. My last wish is that you give Gabriel the life he deserves. Raise him, love him, be there for him. That's all I want, Miguel.

And if you ever miss me, just look up to the sky, and I'll be there. Even if you can't see me, know that I'm probably hiding behind a cloud, always watching over and protecting you and our Gabriel.

P.S. Please let Gwen, Peter, Jess, Hobie, Miles, Pav and the rest of the squad know how thankful I am for them. They’ve been family, and I know they will rock as godparents.

Forever shining for you, 

Tu sol

The door opens again, and the nurse walks in, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. A baby. A newborn.

As soon as Miguel held the newborn,his son, securely in his arms, he makes a silent promise to you, wherever you are, that he will honor your last wish. He will be the father Gabriel deserves and he will make sure that your sacrifice and love will never be forgotten.

After all, how could anyone possibly forget about the sun?

[fever-project]

I’m not DEAD, Daniel (2904 words) by FeverProject Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, Danny Phantom Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Danny Fenton & Wild (Linked Universe) Characters: Danny Fenton, Wild (Linked Universe), the rest of the LU gang are also there but they aren’t important Additional Tags: This isn’t crack but it sure is silly, very much so for me, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Tired Danny Fenton, Wild (Linked Universe) is a Little Shit, might be ooc hopefully not, Misunderstandings, just a little bit Summary: DPxLU crossover because I couldn’t help myself. Surprised I didn’t do this earlier considering gestures at my everything Wild has an encounter with the Ghost King. It is definitely an experience.

Uhhh fanfic, yeah. I’m going to explode. Art

Enjoy 👍

▼

Wild was bored. Which wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence, but it was one that he hated. It was night time now and he was supposed to be asleep, just like everybody else in the inn. But he wasn’t like everybody else, he already slept for 100 years straight, sleeping was only useful to him if and when he wanted to be more healthy. And sleeping every night was generally considered to be healthy, but Wild didn’t care, he needed to move.

Out the window he went, quiet as a mouse. Hopefully no one would notice he was gone, and that he would be back before morning came. But there was an entire forest nearby to explore, and he felt like he could-no, should explore to his heart’s content. The wilderness called to him, beckoned him in. That’s what he kept repeating to himself in his mind anyway, as a way to reassure himself, that as a hero who had saved Hyrule, sneaking out at night and potentially worrying the other heroes wouldn’t be a stupid thing to do. Zelda would’ve thought otherwise, and he knew that, but tried not to think about it too much.

The forest was mostly quiet, save for things like the chirping of birds and crickets. The faint rustling of trees was like music to his ears. There was a light breeze, which felt nice against his face as he ventured further into the forest. He tried his best to walk in as straight of a line as he could, to more easily find his way back. He really wished his Sheikah Slate worked properly in this time, maps made everything much easier. But then he would have to go searching for those towers, and while as fun as they were to activate, took up far too much time, much more than he and his group were currently willing to spare.

Wild was suddenly on edge. That odd shapeshifting, Lizalfos-looking, portal opening thing was still out there. Not to mention the black-blooded monsters that thing infected. Wild sighed as walked, now paranoid and frustrated. After a few moments of that, he finally gained enough brain cells to figure out that he should probably head back. With another sigh, which was more of a groan, he spun on his heel, turning around to make his way back to the inn.

Soon enough, something in the air…shifted, he couldn’t tell what. An oddly familiar yet unnatural feeling enveloped his senses as the sky started to turn into an odd shade of pinkish purple. The few clouds up in the sky, only a slightly lighter shade than the sky itself, swirled around above him, as the space in front of him split. Wild felt his heart drop and his breath leave his body as the rift continued to grow. Green glowing light bleed out from it, lighting up the trees and grass and him. Something was happening, something bad, and it was targeting him. He stumbled back, he had to, he had to get away and yet. And yet. It was calling to him. It was scaring him, the world behind the rift hated and loved him all the same.

Wild had to escape.

Wild tried to breathe, in and out, slowly, calmly, he looked for a way out. Trees, there were only trees and more trees and bushes and grass and even more trees-slowly, in and out, his breathing, his breath. He was alive, and he was going to make sure he would stay that way, bright green portal notwithstanding. The portal was growing bigger, quickly, but not as quick as Wild’s mind was when it was panicking. Maybe that meant that panicking was a good thing. Wild almost stopped panicking completely once he realized how stupid that thought sounded. His panic swiftly returned when a white boot stepped out of the portal. When matching white gloves also came out, Wild went to get out his sword and shield, fumbling with his slate as the person emerged from the rift, it closing behind them soon after.

“Excuse me?” The person asked, their words 

echoing, despite the conditions for that to logically happen simply not existing here. Wild stiffened, having only gotten his sword out. But he knew deep within his soul that it wouldn’t be very effective against the higher being standing before him. Yet his grip tightened despite that. He wouldn’t run away, not now, he would try his best to fight this being off if he had to. And if that failed, he would retreat, tactically.

The being was dressed in an odd black and white outfit, having tan skin and white hair. Their bright green eyes, glowing body, and their crown that was literally on fire were very clear signs that this person wasn’t anything he’s seen before. Not to mention the hovering. And the portal they just came out of. And the weird voice-and Wild needed to start focusing on the situation at hand.

The being raised their hands up defensively, “Hey, put down the sword, I’m not looking for a fight,” they said, “I’m just. Looking for someone, yeah.”

“Uh huh,” Wild dumbly nodded, keeping his eyes on them.

“Right, okay, let me just-“ they looked around, suspicious at their surroundings, “-okay, don’t tell anyone you saw me, or that you saw this. Actually, it doesn’t matter, forget what I just said.”

Wild nodded again, watching as a ring of light came out of their waist, enveloping them as they donned a more hylian appearance. They had even odder clothes on in this form, baggy and worn. Their skin was paler and their hair was pitch black. They looked like death in the form of a teenage boy.

“Are you Death?” Wild asked blatantly. Listen, he was curious, he need to know this. The being raised an eyebrow at him, confusion evident on his face. “Like,” Wild scrambled to rationalize his less than rational thought process, “I don’t know, you seem scary? And corpse-like? Are you dead? Am I dead-well, no, I can’t be dead, that would be silly, ha. But are you?”

“Well I am the Ghost King, king of ghosts,” they said plainly, with a shrug, “Name’s Danny, Danny Phantom, and that’s really all you know about that. Listen-“

“Aren’t you like, twelve?” Wild knew they probably weren’t twelve, but this ‘Ghost King’ guy looked pretty young.

“What? No! I’m not twelve, I’m like-“ they pouted, like a twelve year old, snapping their fingers in thought, “older than you!”

“Oh yeah, I’m-“ Wild stopped, wondering if it would be smart to tell the Ghost King that he’s technically one hundred and seventeen years old. “I am at least seventeen! And I look like it as well.”

“You’re the same height as me.”

Wild looked at the ghost, glared at them, walking a bit closer to them. He placed his hand on top of his head and moved it forward, towards the Ghost King’s head. His hand brushed against their hair, but it clearly didn’t reach the top of their head. Wild grinned, well, wildly at the sight of being taller than them. They looked unimpressed.

“You’re the one acting like a twelve year old you know,” Danny scoffed, pouting.

“Says the pouter.”

“Look, can you just help me find this guy, since you’ve clearly calmed down now.”

“And why should I?”

“I’ll make your afterlife terrible otherwise.”

“Fine, I’ll help, gosh,” Wild was probably going to help anyways, he liked helping people. He just wanted to be annoying. “So, who and why?”

“Great! So, I’m looking for this guy named Link,” oh no, “Clockwork-he’s a time ghost, don’t worry about him-told me that he was hoping around other times with other guys also named Link.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well-okay, you’re annoying so I’m just going to ignore that-“

“Time isn’t real.”

The two stared at each other, and Wild both wanted to punch himself in the face, and thought he was the funniest man alive. Danny seemed to think the same way too, with their bewildered expression suddenly turned into one holding back a lot of laughter.

“Al-alright, that was good I’ll give you that,” they chuckled, “Anyways, I’m looking for this specific Link because they’re supposed to dead, and I’m supposed to like-do something about that. I think I have a picture of this guy that Clockwork gave me, hold on.” They stuffed their hand through their goddess forsaken chest, and rummaged around like their own body was a mere storage container. Wild was instantly jealous of them. Sure he had his Sheikah Slate, but it wasn’t a part of his body.

Wait, Danny had a picture of him. Oh no, they were going to kill him. He didn’t need them to say word for word that they were going to kill him, but Wild didn’t know what else they could do to him. He needed to be on his toes and hone his quick reflexes in order to survive this ordeal.

“Annnd-nope, that’s my thermos-here it is!” They pulled out a piece of folded paper, and just as they started to unfold it, Wild snatched it from their hand and shoved it into his mouth.

“Wha-WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!” Danny shrieked, hands on the side of his head, horrified.

“‘Cause,” Wild responded in a muffled voice, chewing the paper. Tasted inky.

“Okay, you are definitely the weirdest person I’ve ever met, an I know a ghost who whole personality is boxes, just boxes. Actually, I don’t think he’s that weird compared to some other fruitloops I know of-but that doesn’t matter, spit that out!”

“No.”

“You are acting like a twelve year old-no, even twelve year olds wouldn’t do this, you’re five.”

Wild gasped, photo smushed to the side of his mouth, in between his cheek and teeth so it wouldn’t fall out.

“You’re just mad I’m right.”

“Nah uh!”

“Then how about you spit that out, like a normal, seventeen-you’re seventeen right?” Wild nodded, “Right, like a normal seventeen year old would, or I’ll phase it out of your mouth by force.” Wild did not like sound of that. So he spit out the photo, the slobbery mess falling onto the grass. Even Wild was grossed out by what he had done. Danny clearly was.

“You’re going to have to unfold that yourself, I’m not touching that,” Danny looked sick.

“Yeah, that’s fair, I’ll do that,” why wasn’t the paper metal, then he could use his Sheikah Slate to pick it up. Good thing he had some spare gloves stored in it, so it was fine, it’s fine. He started to unfold the paper, Danny peering over his shoulder, both with matching disgusted expressions. Wild was right about the contents of the drawing. His face, blast scars and all, was right there. Wild looked at Danny. Danny looked at him. Wild wanted to punch them in face and run off, but they are a ghost. But Wild still slowly raised his free hand into a fist, retaining eye contact.

Danny began to speak, “So-“ Wild swiftly punched them in their face, and skittered backwards, trying to look for a way back to the inn safely. The ghost had stumbled back, clutching their face in pain.

“Huh, so you can punch ghosts,” Wild noted.

“You can definitely punch this ghost,” Danny rubbed their hurt nose, “Didn’t even get me a chance to speak.”

“Please don’t kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you, that’s not what I’m here for.”

“Oh.”

“Bet you feel stupid now, don’t ya?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

Danny sighs, pinching their nose, not in pain this time, but annoyance. “So,” they started again, “what I’m trying to do is get you on the ‘Supposed to be Dead but Came Back Anyways’ census. Basically, the name’s a work in progress.”

“And…I’m supposed to do something about it?”

“Kinda? Look, just sign here, and I’ll get out of your hair.” They pulled out another piece of paper out of their chest, with already had a few other names on it in neat little boxes. Wild couldn’t read any of those names, but Danny probably could.

Wild’s face scrunched up, trying to think about what he should do next. They hadn’t really explained their reasoning for any of this, so he still didn’t trust them too much. Maybe this was some elaborate ruse to kill him.

“Will me signing this ‘census’ give me any benefits-will it give you any benefits?” Wild pointed accusingly at Danny.

“Well, are you dead?”

Wild groaned, “I’m not DEAD Daniel,” Wild threw his hands into the air in frustration, “Just use your stupid ghost words to explain to me what I need to do and why.”

“Okay,” Danny squeaked out, “But first off, name’s just Danny.”

“Uh huh.”

“And secondly, I’m doing this because there’s a bunch of ghost legal jargon where your name was already listed on both the ‘dead,’ and then also the ‘not dead’ list after you came back to life. You signing this will help fix that.”

“…Aren’t I time traveling right now?”

“Yes, but it’s still good to note down who had came back to life. Please just make my life easier, this is themost stress inducing part of my job I’ve ever done.”

Wild was starting to feel a bit bad now. So now, with a better understanding of the situation, he took the paper from Danny’s hands.

“Here’s a pen to write with,” Danny gave him a pen from their chest.

“Can all ghosts store stuff in their bodies?” Wild asked as he wrote down his name in the next free box, adding on his title of ‘Hero of the Wild’ in the same box, just to specify things.

“No, but I sure can,” they said with a big smile.

“That’s so cool.”

“I know.”

The two laughed a bit as Wild returned the paper and pen to Danny.

“Well, sorry for not explaining my motivations fully, I’m a bit…tired, ha ha,” Danny rubbed the back of their neck, clearly embarrassed.

“Yeah. Sorry for punching you.”

“Now I’m going to go take a nap. Or sleep for once.” A ring of light enveloped Danny yet again, returning him to his more ghostly form. Then he turned around and held out his hand, before cutting the space there, opening the bright green portal.

“See you in the Ghost Zone, Link! Eventually!” They waved as they stepped into the rift.

Wild waved back, “That sounds pretty ominous, but okay!” Danny laughed at that as he went all the way through, the portal closing soon after. Now Wild was left all alone in the woods.

He needed to get back to the inn.

It took him some time, but he eventually found his way back to the inn. In through the window, as quiet as a ghost, he was back in his room. He flopped down onto his bed, mentally exhausted. He would’ve rather been bored than have had dealt with…whatever that was. Not really, but Wild was certainly ready to go to sleep now, and pray that he wouldn’t have to meet that Ghost King ever again. Not because he was scared, but because he was a bit embarrassed about what happened. He acted a bit stupid there. But none of that mattered now. All that Wild had to do now, was to sleep.

ー

“Has anyone seen the champion yet?” Time asked, looking over the group that were all hanging around the inn’s dining room.

“Nope,” Warriors said with a pop, “He’s likely still asleep.”

“But I’m hungry,” Wind whined, “Captain, do you know how to cook?”

“I know how to make things edible and nutritious,” Wars plainly answered, receiving a few groans from various Links.

“We could just have the food they serve here,” Twilight suggested.

“Champ’s better,” Four retorted.

“How about we all wait a bit longer,” Time said, “It hasn’t even been half an hour since we woke up after all.”

They all muttered their agreements, and choose to occupy themselves with taking count of their resources for the time being. A few more minutes passed before Legend noticed something.

“Hey guys, I think I see the champ coming down right now,” Legend pointed at the staircase, and the other heroes scrambled to see their resident chef stumbling down the stairs.

“Are you doing alright?” Hyrule asked.

“You seem exhausted,” Sky added.

“Ye-yeah,” Wild yawned, stretching his arms, “Ghost problems and all that stuff.” He set out to make some food for his companions, who were looking at him with confusion and concern.

“Ghost problems?” A few of them asked at once.

“Is this place haunted?” Wind looked around with an excited grin on his face.

“Nope, but I sure got haunted in the woods out there,” Wild waved in the vague direction of where the forest was, “Now I’m going to make something to eat, want some?”

Of course they wanted some, food was important. They continued to ask questions about the ghost, but Wild didn’t answer, he didn’t feel like it. Maybe in like, two days he would. But for now, he just wanted to eat some Vegetable Risotto, maybe with a few Endura Carrots thrown in as well. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to deal with that Ghost King again anytime soon. At least, hopefully not before this time traveling adventure ends.

[cod-blurbios]

Btw if anyone wants to use ideas, I’m too tired to write them properly. So here is an odd list.

- “Too Old For You” M!Reader x Soap (who likes that fact)

- Hybrid!Pangolin Child Reader saved by TF141 who happens to curl in on themselves when scared

- Emotionless Reader who learned to fake emotions, but when really tired just becomes super numb towards everybody (awkward shoulder pats, glazed over eyes, disinterest in gossip, etc)

-Emotionally Filtered Reader who doesn’t get into the romance game, doesn’t have sex because they don’t find the meaning of it and nothing seems to be engaging enough to try, but is super interested in learning about how sex and romance plays with our brain chemicals. A sex and romance enthusiast.

-Werewolf!reader who gets super territorial over their spaces, and it’s an honor if they let you in or around those spaces

-Some very projective hc’s for randoms that really make sense for those characters

-Silly headcannons for Graves (he definitely painted his face to look like an American flag and CAAWWWED like an eagle when drunk. Yes his shadows had to embarrassingly shut him up and take him home)

- Vamp!Reader who doesn’t enjoy feeding, at all. Like it’s a life-sustenance but makes them terribly disgusted to need.

-Hybrid!Wolf!Soap x Reader who doesn’t ask for affection (he’s been called needy so much he just quit asking) so he just presses his knee against your own after grueling missions in the back of the humvee

-Roach headcannons that aren’t just: he’s a silly boy xoxo GET SOME DEPTH YOU UNDYNAMIC UGHHH

-Harpy!Gaz (thank you bluegiragi 🙏) who can’t hide when he’s upset because his feathers look so puffed up and messy.

-Harpy!Gaz 2 who can’t (doesn’t) preen his own wings, your hands are just…y’know, you get all the right bristles

-Price headcannons that delve more into his character (esp ‘09 Price) he definitely had to be the leader a lot among his family as a teen and takes on those leadership roles among his team, get more headcannons for his childhood bcs he’s just ‘dad type’ and it’s NOT ENOUGH

-Ghost, who is GENUINELY an asshole. Purely canon and will not hesitate to tell you to get out of ��his seat’ in the mess hall. Whatever that means.

-Soap headcannons that don’t revolve around Ghost or revolve around being the opposite of Ghost.

-Laswell headcannons abt her and her wife 🙏

-Reader Aus that are straight up contradictions, but work out really well. Short but not fragile (and not the typical ‘sassy/fiesty/bratty’ trope either I hate those, like buff n shii) Like a 5’1 dude who is built like a mini tank.

-Laswell x F!Reader (ofc) that are super doe coded?? She knows what your favorite breakfast on Tuesdays is and you know which day of the week she takes everything showers??

-Just otherworldly outta pocket shit happening to Yuri and Makarov that mocks poorly written AI tropes. WDYM A TREE SUDDENLY FELL DOWN AND PUSHED MAKAROV EVER SO SLIGHTLY CLOSER TO THE POINT HE FELL AND LANDED IN A FOOT-TO-FOOT HANDSTAND WITH YURI

More Nik x Price headcannons that are sweet…ofc they go to the coffee shop every Saturday and just talk about every little detail from each others lives while apart…why wouldn’t they :(

-More hate post shit against Makarov. I want to feel your soul through the screen as you pour it out for what he did to Soap in MWIII

-Bear!hybrid Reader who has to deal with hibernation but it’s realistic (having to sleep for longer but not a whole damn winter)

-More Hybrid!Readers of very out-there creatures (Bees/Polar Bears/Reptiles/Nagas/Centaurs/Cryptids)

Uhh yeah I’ll make a part two in maybe a month or so

[undyinwxnchester]

‘Everybody knows that I’m a good boy, officer.’

(Officer!MaleReader x DeanWinch).

NSFW THEMES - SLIGHT AGEGAP

‘Everyone, and I mean. Everyone knew who Dean Winchester was in the force, FBI, and so on. And it seemed whilst pulling a black impala over, you just so happened to be lucky enough to pull him of all people over.

You weren’t aware of what he looked like, just name. So given the fake ID name you are thrown off guard.’

“yeh, names Ozzy Smith.” He says. Odd name, but you brush it off. But you have to still question him given the speeding and lack of paper work.

“Uh-Huh. Why don’t you step out for me, son.” You say in your usual tone, just keeping it stern but not so much to the point it’s going to scare the person off. He doesn’t as first, but complied after a moment. Even in your late 30s, your not dumb enough to think a kid a decade younger than you is going to be named ozzy.

Even if he had shit parents name him. Your sceptical.

His hands fidget in his pockets, a clear sign of something off to you.

“How old are you?”

A simple question he should be able to answer. Still his ‘ID’ in hand, he’s been caught out.

At that - it’s not a surprise he ends up in cuffs, not knowing his supposed age on the ID by heart seems silly. You end up in his trunk, plenty of fake ids, weapons. Everything you don’t want to find in someone’s car.

Hes trying, so hard to do something. Swoon and beg his way out. The flirting is new, for men anyway. But it doesn’t work anyway.

“Oh come on man! Cut me some slack, I didn’t do nothing wrong.”

That’s all that escapes his lips, excuses. Dean is beyond annoyed - he hadn’t planned on being pulled over for little reason and he knows it’s going to be annoying to get out of this. Sams at some cheap motel an hour away without baby. And it seems this cop won’t budge.

He tries his hardest - his usual charm, being oblivious. His usual cocky ‘Fake manner’. But your not a woman, that’s not as easy. So he takes a latter when you’ve eventually got him in a questioning room, alone and cuffed to the table.’

You sit opposite him - your a small department and little of the others know how to question people. Especially people like him. They’d probably end up in tears or confused.

He’s seemingly tired - seemingly.

But acting odd, shifting in the chair and cuffs, before he asks the usual question.

“Need the’ bathroom.”

So, you provide the right like you’d supposed to even if you know it’s something fishy. Your correct. Soon as you unlatch him from the table; even with his cuffs still on.

Your pinned, he’s a big kid. Some muscle on him so it’s no so hard for him to do with you, as you grunt and the cuffs press at your throat you realise this probably wasn’t the best person to allow a bathroom right.

You struggle - eventually pushing him away and able to grab him, but in a rather odd place given he knew his way around a good fight. He ends up.. bent. Over the table.

Your body behind him and you sort of. Freeze. This doesn’t look good. At all.

His breathe hitches - this is a new position for him. Usually he’s the one bending someone over but - welp.

He bucks, tries to. But it ends up with him pressing his behind against your groin, you grunt. And just pin him more in response. This isn’t good at all. For either of you.

“You know- you could have bought me a drink.” He teases, of course when given the circumstances he will in fact still be a weird about it. He’s that kind of guy. Even though he feels.. odd. He’s not used to such kind of people near him.. but he’s not’

Opposed to it. So he uses it to advantage, even though it’ll probably get him into more trouble.

Before you can respond to his crude comment - he bucks again. But more, and more. He’s not used to doing this but he’ll do it for the sake of hopefully getting out of here. His rear moving swiftly, slowly but with a harsh push. You feel your cock twitch - its interested. Your head isn’t.

You move he gets away - you don’t move he gets his own way. Your screwed- oh it feels so good though. He’s not bad looking at all. A pretty kid.. and that ass is just. Speaking wonders.

—

You fucked it- your screwed. Your fired for sure. So sure. After his little charade you ended up giving in, he didn’t mind even though he sort of shit himself at first. Your cock deep into his hole as he’s leant against the table. Cuffs rattling with each heavy thrust.

He’s a heavy moaning mess - and your groaning behind him. As his tight behind sucks you in like no other, taking your inches generously. It’s a little dry, you only used spit but it serves well enough. You don’t care if it hurts him - he’s a criminal after all.

Your hands are tight on his hips, each pound earning you a whine as it barely pushes against his prostate. He’s so close. So close already. Cock leaking onto the table as it shifts with each movement from behind, leaking pre and swelling for some form of attention. It doesn’t get any.

You grind, and you thrust. He even meets your movements- back arching just that bit to move with you. Till he pops. His ropes of white lathering against the table. You continue with him. His orgasm ridden out and his hole just that bit tighter because of it.

Your closer now too. But need just a bit longer. This isn’t an intimate moment. It’s just a fuck. No words are or will be exchanged - or so you thought. He mutters, just barely with such a gruff husky groan, And you almost immediately finish as he does.

‘A-Hah- Right there deputy..”

He’s filled to the brim right after.

———

He leaves. You let him go - no questions asked. Of course you do.

He could just decide to snitch on you and it’ll cost your job, you help clean him up before he does go of course. Little words exchanged, glances at best. Before he goes though. He gives you - his number.

And your left with guilt and dread - fear of your job. But that all heavy feeling of lust and want for more.

You didn’t think The Dean Winchester would end up a good fuck.

——————————————————

Request anything if you want!

🫡

[joesbnbg]

cruel summer

part one of everybody wants to rule the world

in which the girls get ice cream, robin has a meet-cute, steve throws a pool party, and everybody gets high [4.4k words]

The summer of ‘85 in Hawkins, Indiana was a scorching one. Tarmac sizzled under the butter yellow sun, cotton candy clouds spun on the saccharine sweet taste of summer freedom. Perfect for soaking sunburnt bodies with chlorinated water at the Hawkins public pool; perfect for long bike rides against the wind, speed and sun burning the rubber of the thin tires; the perfect weather for ice cream. 

Which was right where April and DJ were headed, AC blasting in April's beat up ‘74 Chevy Vega, sun reflecting off its faded orange hood as the two teenagers drove towards the Starcourt Mall. Blondie blasted from the speakers and April sang along lazily as DJ chattered over Debbie Harry with unprecedented speed about everything and nothing at all, fumbling with the fringes of her cut off shorts. 

April's fingers drummed against the steering wheel as she turned into the crowded parking lot, eyes scanning for a place to park as DJ craned her neck towards the entrance, watching couples and teenagers and families alike clamber inside the mall like sweaty zombies who sought cold air instead of brains. 

April pulled into the closest spot she could find, which of course wasn’t close at all, and quickly turned the car off, as ready to escape the summer heat as the rest of her town. She pushed her sunglasses back onto the crown of her head, black frames against copper hair, watching as DJ snaked out of the car window, falling to the ground with an ungraceful thump. April's passenger side door hadn’t worked since she had bought the car over a year ago, but DJ still hadn't gotten the hang of an elegant landing. 

“Let’s go,” April said with an impatient smile, head tilted towards the mall. DJ grumbled, wiping bits of rocks from the indents they had created on her palms as she scrambled to her feet, the old canvas of her black converse tearing slightly at her movement. 

“I thought when you got a car it would come with less injuries,” DJ said, catching up to her best friend as they began towards the building, beat-up shoes moving in tandem against the blacktop. “I’m fighting for my life out here.” April huffed out a laugh, adjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder. 

“If you were behind the wheel, we’d be fighting for our lives every five minutes. I much prefer these odds.” April responded, pushing through the glass double doors and into Starcourt, a well welcomed whoosh of cool air greeting her. DJ sputtered as she removed the wind blown hair from her face, tucking dark strands behind her ears.

“What, because I went airborne? That was one time.” DJ said as they rounded a corner, making April laugh again. 

“Two times.” 

“One and a half. Only the front two wheels came off the ground the first time.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, Dot, but a car’s wheels aren’t supposed to come off the ground ever. Front or back.”

“They won’t be saying that when cars can fly.”

“Emphasis on ‘can.’ My car is not built for that. No car is built for that. Honestly, I’m starting to think you might have a better shot getting your pilot license.” April said as they walked into Scoops Ahoy, Hawkins’ newest and nicest nautical themed creamery. DJ whistled at the boy behind the counter whose face perked up slightly at the sight of the girls. How this schmuck in an ill-fitting sailor’s suit had managed to win over her best friend was still a mystery to her, but she tabled the thought for later as they approached the counter. 

“Too expensive. Yo, Harrington! How do we feel about another driving lesson?” She called at him, a grin tugging her pink lips upward. Steve shook his head vigorously as he moved towards the tubs of ice cream, head bent as he scooped USS Butterscotch onto a wafer cone. 

“Absolutely not,” He said, and although amusement colored his tone, it was clear he was being completely serious. He stood upright, passing the cone to April, who took it with a bright smile, one he shared as their brown eyes met. 

“Well, take it up with your girlfriend, because apparently, she’d rather sacrifice my palms than get her wizard cousin to fix the car.” DJ said, holding up her scratched up hand as April rolled her eyes.

“Okay, first off, he’s not a wizard, he’s a thirteen year old who happens to know a lot about science, and secondly, he’s not a fucking mechanic. He’s just a kid.” She shot back. DJ shrugged, taking a cone of cookies and cream from Steve’s outstretched hand. 

“Close enough,” She said as she licked a dribbler off the side of the cone. “But I’m pretty sure I saw him blow up Older Sinclair’s blender, so really, what’s the difference?” DJ asked, dropping a loose quarter from her pocket into the tip jar, which made Steve involuntarily grimace. 

“He’s also not even here,” April reminded her. “He’s at that science thing for another three weeks.” 

“Camp Know-Nothing or whatever,” Steve added.

“Camp Know-Where,” April corrected. 

“You want a bandaid for that battle scar?” Steve asked, eyebrows raised and eyes focused as DJ inspected the broken skin on her hand. DJ shrugged like it was nothing, because things like this were always happening to her. Steve turned, opening the partition to the back room, calling towards the coworker neither April or DJ realized he had. “Robin, can you get the first aid kit?” 

“What, did you sprain your wrist slinging ice cream, Stevie?” The voice called back, and Steve rolled his eyes, gritting his teeth with annoyance as he turned back towards his friends. April trained her eyes on the floor and sunk her teeth into her bottom lip to keep from laughing, but DJ couldn’t help the snicker that escaped her. 

“Yeah, Stevie, hurt your little baby wrist?” DJ said, pouting at him. Steve’s eyes narrowed as he turned towards the back again. 

“It was for my friend actually, but forget it, because she’s being an absolute dick right now.” He said, and this time April couldn’t stop herself from laughing into her ice cream. “Let her bleed.” 

“Are you allowed to curse in uniform? Isn’t that, like, against the company image or whatever?” DJ asked, clearly getting more joy out of teasing the boy than the quickly melting treat in her hand. 

“Company image? What is this, Disneyland?” Steve retorted. 

“What? King Steve wasn’t an animated Disney classic? Since when?” DJ replied, eyes widening. She laughed, loudly this time, but all confidence and joy seemed to drain from her face as Steve’s coworker stepped out from the back room, first aid kit in hand. 

“Who needs the first aid kit?” The girl asked. “Had to look through, like, seven different cabinets to find it. I’m also pretty sure the instructions on this thing are in Russian.” She frowned, head bent as she examined it with bright blue eyes. DJ gulped, trying to steady herself, and April and Steve shared a knowing, amused look. 

“Robin, this is April, my girlfriend, and DJ, April's leech. April, DJ, this is Robin.” Steve said, and Robin looked up at them for the first time, eyes training on DJ’s just as DJ’s had trained on Robin’s. Pink rose to her freckled cheeks and she quickly looked down again, focusing on opening the first aid kit again. 

“Hand,” DJ blurted, pointing it out towards Robin, who looked at it like DJ had just shoved a knife in her direction. 

“She hurt her hand,” April quickly supplied. “Climbing out of my car, because the door doesn’t work.” 

“Oh,” Robin said, clearly nervous herself as she awkwardly opened the kit. She pulled out a bandaid and when she grabbed DJ’s hand to inspect it closer, DJ held her breath. Delicately, Robin placed the bandaid over the spot, patting the brunette’s hand lightly as she let it go. The air was thick with the smell of vanilla and tension, and Robin cleared her throat, stepping into the back room again. 

“...Huh,” Steve said after a moment, head tilted in thought. “I mean, she’s usually awkward, but she’s not that awkward.” 

“I wasn’t-” 

“I didn’t mean you, shit-for-brains.” Steve said, eyes on DJ, whose eyebrows knit in frustration. 

“I should slap that stupid hat right off your head.” DJ replied. 

“You’d be doing me a favor.” Steve said, and April chuckled. 

"How long has she been working here for?" April asked. "I've never seen her around." Steve shrugged.

"Dunno. She just sort of showed up and started insulting me."

"I like her already." DJ said, and Steve rolled his eyes.

"Clearly." He muttered.

“So, Stevie-” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Stevie, you know it’s really hot out today.” 

“Mhm.” 

“And you know what people like to do when it’s hot out?” Steve stared at DJ, unamused.

“Go inside and leave other people alone?” 

“Go swimming,” April supplied, and Steve turned towards her, raising an eyebrow before wagging a finger between the girls. 

“You planned this, didn’t you?” He asked, before turning his attention back to DJ. “Don’t you have a pool?” 

“Yeah, but you have something I don’t: absentee parents.” DJ said with a grin, and Steve glared at her, playing with his ice cream scooper. 

“Gee. Thanks. Rub it in my face, why don’t you?” 

“I’m just saying,” DJ continued, leaning on the counter to get closer to him, “We could have a super-fun-no-parents-pool-party to kick off the summer? I’ll get the drinks!” 

“You look younger than Henderson.” Steve shot back, and DJ grinned brightly at him. 

“Okay, then you get the drinks.” DJ amended, and Steve smiled with disbelief, shaking his head slightly. 

“Is that a yes?” April asked, looking at the boy hopefully. Steve rolled his eyes before finally nodding his head in agreement. 

“Fine,” He said. “Fine. Seven o’clock.” DJ broke out into a sly grin. 

“You’re the best, Harrington.” She said, and Steve rolled his eyes again, waving his hand. 

“Whatever.” He said as April dug into her purse for her car keys, extending them out towards her friend. 

“DJ, why don’t you go ahead and get the car started? I’ll be out right behind you.” 

“I don’t think the good patrons of Scoops Ahoy will appreciate the make-out session in the middle of their nautical ice cream experience,” DJ said as she took the keys, twisting them around her finger. 

“Shut up!” April said as Steve ducked his head down, blushing. 

“Wear protection!” DJ called as she headed towards the exit. “I am too young to be an aunt.” April laughed, turning back towards Steve, who gave her a smile. 

“So…” April started, leaning closer to him, “I was thinking…” 

“Oh yeah?” Steve said, grin growing with the girl’s words. 

“We should invite Robin to the pool party tonight.” Steve’s smile faded as he crossed his arms, looking at the girl in front of him. 

“Seriously?” He said, blinking. “Why?” 

“Because!” April responded, lowering her voice slightly. “She and DJ were really hitting it off back there.” 

“That was hitting it off? I’ve seen babies communicate more gracefully than that.” Steve argued, but April pressed forward. 

“There’s something there. Invite her, please.” 

“How do you even know she’s a lesbian?” Steve whispered, and April's eyes darted towards the back room, making sure Robin wasn’t listening. 

“I don’t,” April said, “But I have a feeling if we invite her, it’ll be a good thing. Come on, please?” Steve was silent, thoughtful as he weighed his options. “You know,” April said, closing the space between her and the boy even more, “If DJ has a friend, or somebody, she won’t be as interested in what we’re doing.” Steve stared at her blankly. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say to you, Steve?” 

April watched as the idea registered in his brain, eyes filling with recognition and mouth opening slightly. “Oh,” He said slowly, starting to break out into a thoughtful grin. “Okay. Okay.” 

“See?” April said, smiling, too. “Invite her.” Steve groaned, looking towards the back room, nose scrunching with disgust at the girl who sat inside of it. “Come on,” April pushed back Steve’s cowlick, moving the chocolate colored hair out of his face. “Please.” 

Steve huffed. “Fine.” He said. “Fine. God, I just do whatever you two tell me to, don’t I?” 

“Yeah,” April agreed. “You must be real fucking whipped, Harrington.” Steve rolled his eyes. 

“Get the fuck out of here. I’ll see you at seven.”

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When seven o’clock rolled around that evening, April and DJ found themselves once again inside April's car, bikinis on under cut off shorts and big graphic tees. The sun was dipping below the trees, filtering through the leaves and houses as they drove through Hawkins, the cool breeze that accompanied the late hour playing with the ends of their hair. 

“I wonder what else we could get Steve to do because he’s in love with you.” DJ said, watching the clouds pass by as they drove, hand draping lazily out the window.

“He’s not in love with me.” April said quickly, and DJ quirked up an eyebrow. 

“What do you mean? He’s definitely in love with you.” DJ said. “I mean, come on, who else would put up with me just to date you? Not many people.” 

“Found that out the hard way.” April added. “But can we not… we’re just taking it slow for now, okay?” 

“O…kay,” DJ said finally, a little lost. “I wonder what we could get him to do because he likes you so much,” She amended. “Do you think he’d kill someone, or is that, like, a six month anniversary present kind of deal?” 

“Jury’s still out on that one,” April replied after a moment. 

“No, the jury definitely thinks he’s innocent. They’d think a man who uses that much hairspray probably wouldn’t have any brain cells left to murder ‘cause the aerosol in the can would have killed them all.” 

“Okay, he doesn’t use that much hairspray,” April argued, although she barely even believed herself. 

“Have you ever seen him without hairspray before, or are you guys not that serious yet? Does that also come with the six month anniversary murder?” DJ kept going. “Like, maybe he murders someone because they’ve seen him without hairspray, or maybe they discontinue it so he murders whoever makes - or, I guess doesn’t make - the hairspray, or-” 

“Okay, we get it.” April said as they turned onto Steve’s block, pulling into the empty spot in front of his house, right beside a tree with a branch convenient enough for DJ to use to haul herself out of the car. 

She managed the escape a little better this time, huffing as April retrieved her things from the back of the car. DJ frowned at the sight of an unfamiliar bike resting in the driveway as they got closer, nudging April to make sure she saw it, too. 

“Is that Steve’s?” DJ asked, and April stared at it, doing her best to pretend she didn’t know who it belonged to. 

“Hmm, I don’t know.” She said. “Maybe it’s one of the kids.” 

“He’d invite the kids to a pool party where there’d be alcohol?” DJ said incredulously. “Mr. Mother-of-the-Year? I don’t think so.” 

“Well, who knows?” April asked as she knocked on the large wooden door. “They like to just randomly appear in places. Could be one of them.” It was a few more seconds until the door swung open, and Steve stood behind it, looking far more comfortable in clothes that fit his body correctly. 

“Retired from the navy so soon?” DJ teased. “I thought they were about to promote you.” 

“Shut up,” Steve replied before kissing April in greeting as the girls walked inside. 

“Where’s mine?” DJ asked, puckering her lips at him. He made a face at her as they walked through the house. Music played softly on a speaker outside as Steve made a pit stop in the kitchen, passing cold beer cans to the girls before sliding the glass door to the backyard open. 

“Hey, guys!” DJ almost dropped her drink at the sight of the sandy haired girl in front of her, laying out in a navy blue two piece, nursing a beer. 

“You guys remember Robin,” Steve said, gesturing at her as if it wasn’t April's idea to invite her in the first place. 

“Yeah!” April said brightly, hoping her excited attitude would draw away from the fear growing in her best friend’s eyes. “It’s good to see you. Isn’t it, DJ?” She turned towards her friend expectantly, whose green eyes only grew wider. 

“I-it’s great! Or, or cool! Or, it’s very normal. Awesome. Fun…tastic to see you.” DJ sputtered on her words, drawing a quiet laugh out of Steve. Robin didn’t seem phased as she took another sip of her beer. 

“You know, I think we had English together sophomore year,” She said, eyes focusing on April, who smiled with recognition. 

“Yeah! I think you’re right. God, Mr. Shipman was an absolute trip.” April replied, twisting her hair up into a bun. 

“I took English!” DJ offered, and Steve moved towards her, patting her on the shoulder. 

“Take a lap, champ.” He said, and DJ nodded, still flustered as she moved to dip her toes in the deep end of the pool. “That went so badly I hope she doesn’t drown herself.” Steve muttered softly against April's ear, causing her to stifle a laugh. 

“So how long have you two been going out?” Robin asked. DJ was still on the other side of the pool making splashing sounds with her feet that were loud enough to cause a scene. Steve and April looked at each other.

“Like… five months at this point?” Steve asked, and April shrugged in agreement. Robin looked between them with a smile.

“How exactly did you pull her, Harrington? She seems a little too cerebral for you.” Robin tilted her head, smile taking form into a shit-eating grin as April giggled and Steve’s face dropped. 

“That’s what I’m saying!” DJ shouted from the other side of the pool. 

“Well, considering the fact that I don’t even know what ‘cerebral’ means, yeah, you’re probably right.” Steve said coolly. “We met through her cousin-” 

“Her cousin who is a child.” DJ added in a yell, cutting Steve off. 

“Who I, y’know, look out for sometimes-” 

“He’s a glorified babysitter who doesn’t get paid.” DJ continued, and Steve turned towards her, placing his hands on his hips. 

“Shut the fuck up, Dorothy.” Steve shouted as DJ padded her way back over to them, wet feet slapping on the concrete. 

“Make me, Harrington!” DJ gestured towards him and he moved ever-so-slightly before April put a hand on his arm, redirecting the conversation back to where it had started. 

“I tutored him.” April said. “And to be honest, I thought he was a major douche. But he actually turned out to be a big softie.” 

“Is that why he can’t get it-” Before DJ could finish, Steve turned towards her and pushed her in the pool, causing all three of the girls to yelp as DJ landed smack in the middle of the water. 

“Jesus, Steve!” April exclaimed, though she was laughing. Robin was laughing, too, and Steve cracked a smile, guzzling the last of his beer. 

“Took care of that problem, huh?” Steve said as DJ spluttered, spitting chlorinated water out of her mouth and pushing her sopping wet hair out of her eyes.

“Not fair!” DJ exclaimed, although she was smiling, too. Before she knew what was happening, a whiz of a blue bathing suit was making its way into the pool with a whoop, landing beside her. Once she had popped back up out of the water, Robin smiled at DJ, eyes reflecting the color of the pool. 

“Couldn’t leave you alone in here, could I?” Robin said, and DJ did her best to keep her body from short-circuiting. Still on land, April eyed Steve nervously, body tense as she waited for him to push her in, too. Steve stared at her, his hands on his hips. 

“I’ll at least give you the dignity of taking your clothes off first.” He said, eyes drifting towards DJ, whose large shirt was fanning around her like an underwater overcoat. 

“Gee, what a gentleman.” April grinned, stripping off her denim shorts and t-shirt to reveal an emerald green bikini underneath. Steve waited with amusement as April tossed them to the side, then scooped her up bridal style and tossed her into the pool before chucking off his own shirt and cannon-balling after her. 

DJ swam towards the shallow end to peel off her now soaking denim shorts and t-shirt, tossing them with a loud plop onto the side of the pool. She felt a lot lighter in just her maroon bikini. 

Once the group was officially cooled off and fully chlorinated, they removed their soaking bodies to lay out by the side of the pool, each nursing cold beers, condensation dripping onto the already wet concrete. 

“So,” Robin said, a grin plastered on her face as she reached her free hand towards her bag, “I brought something that might make today a little more interesting.” Steve raised an eyebrow, his interest piquing. Robin whipped a baggie out of her purse, holding it up for the friends to see, and April laughed. 

“Magic oregano,” DJ said, making April laugh harder as Steve stood up, grabbing the bag from Robin’s outstretched fingers. 

“Brownie points for Buckley.” Steve moved towards the nearby table to begin rolling the joint. 

“I didn’t know you smoked, Robin,” April said, prompting the girl to shrug. Steve scoffed.

“Are you kidding? Look at her. Her nails are painted black and she’s in band.” Robin made a face as both April and DJ laughed. 

“Okay, okay, fair,” April conceded. 

“I wouldn’t think you guys smoked,” Robin said. “DJ, maybe. Steve, sure. Definitely not you, April.” 

April shrugged. “I like to have fun.” 

“She likes to have a break from talking all the time.” Steve translated, licking the rolling paper. April grinned. 

“What does that mean?” Robin asked. 

“I go really quiet when I get high.” April explained, and DJ nodded enthusiastically. 

“Nonverbal, almost.” DJ added. “It’s really kind of funny.” 

“Wish you’d go nonverbal,” Steve muttered, and DJ’s head whipped towards him. 

“Do I have to remind you you’ve never won a fight, Harrington? Want to make that record zero to three?” DJ said, and Steve gave the girl a wary look, going the long way to avoid her as he moved towards Robin, who held her lighter outstretched towards him. “You’re lucky I don’t have that. All it would take is one jab of that fire in your direction and the amount of hairspray up in that wig of yours would make you go bald in an instant.” April couldn’t help but laugh as Steve flicked the lighter in DJ’s direction before bringing the joint to his lips, taking a puff. 

He handed it to April, who took a small drag and suppressed a cough as she handed it to Robin, who took a similar hit, who passed it to DJ, who held it to her lips far too long just to stop herself from thinking about the fact that her hand had brushed Robin’s. She coughed up a storm, handing the joint back to Steve, who laughed. 

“Little smaller next time, Wilkerson.” He advised, and she glared at him with watery eyes, trying to stop the coughs from coming out of her. They each took one more hit, then another, until a little less than half the joint was left, which Steve stubbed out to save for later. 

It didn’t take long until all of their brains were humming, tuned on the frequency of a certain kind of tranquilness that only came from joints like these. They all stared up at the sky, admiring the way the clouds went by, the shapes they made, the way they danced in the air. 

“This is nice.” Robin said. “I honestly wasn’t gonna come, but… this is nice.” 

“Yeah,” DJ agreed with a lazy smile. 

“If I’d have known you’d had weed up your sleeve, I would’ve invited you over a long time ago, Robin.” Steve said, turning towards her slightly. “Where’d you get it?” 

“You guys know Eddie Munson?” Robin asked. Steve frowned.

“Who?” He asked. 

“He’s a senior. He’s in that Dungeons and Dragons club, with the long hair? Looks like he could be straight out of Metallica, or something, and he’s kind of weird, but in a harmless way, and definitely nicer than he looks - but anyways, he sells weed, good weed, obviously, and my friend told me about him, and his prices aren’t too bad, so around last year, I started buying from him and was like ‘Oh! This is cool!’ and so I’ve kept going back and-”

“I think you've made your point.” Steve said, shutting the girl down before she could continue. DJ sat up, staring at him. 

“Let her speak.” Steve rolled his eyes as DJ laid back down again.

“So, anyways, yeah. I buy from Eddie. That was really the end of the story.” Robin said with a shrug. 

“I have such an urge to jump in the pool right now.” DJ said, eyes on the sunlight that danced across the water’s surface. 

“Don’t,” Steve warned, shielding his face from the sun with his arm, “You’re gonna get yourself killed.” 

“No, I’m not,” DJ argued. “And even if I did, you’re a lifeguard, right? So you could just save me or whatever.” Steve gave her a pointed look. 

“I’ll go in the pool with you!” Robin offered, sitting up in her own chair. DJ grinned, looking towards Steve again. 

“See? Two against one. April, you in?” April shook her head. 

“No, I’m good.” She said, eyes closed as Steve played with the ends of her hair. DJ shrugged, moving towards the edge of the pool.

“Okay, still two against one. That’s fine. Majority rules. But don’t worry, Mom, I won’t, like, backflip into the pool or anything.”

“You don’t know how to backflip.” 

“Yes, I do.” 

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Get in the pool before I push you in.” Steve said, and though he made no effort to move, DJ cannonballed into the pool without another moment’s hesitation. 

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i hope you guys enjoyed this part! these characters are so special to me and i'm having such a fun time with their dynamics :)

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Schleppen

Chapter Sixteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam/Madison, Lee/Pam/Benny, Jesse/Cesar, Charlie/OFC, unnamed female character

Word Count: 2644

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, everyone is hungover, Dean steps in it, Sam is so done with their shit, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

Dean didn’t sleep. Or if he did, it was in the last gasps of darkness and so short, he couldn’t feel its relief. Alcohol affects the REM cycle, so whoever taught him to have a drink before bed to help with his insomnia (John) was wrong. It was just one of the many things he’d learned in therapy. Dean found he had many things yet to unlearn.

No one who had stayed over was in any better shape when he got downstairs.

Bela and Trouble had bunkered down on the couch in the den, Charlie had claimed one of the bedrooms with a woodland elf, the other spare went to Pam and Lee, but Dean was pretty sure he had heard Benny through the walls, so maybe him too. The other girl Charlie brought along was on the floor curled around Jesse fruitlessly, because Cesar, who was sitting with his back to the end of the couch, still asleep, held his partner’s head in his lap. He wondered if Sam was already up and running until Madison came down the stairs in search of caffeine with a shirtless and rumpled Sam on her heels.

“Morning,” Dean said smugly to them both.

Madison met his gaze and tried not to blush, which Dean found oddly refreshing, while Sam just flipped him off and dove in for a cup of coffee before it was even done brewing.

They moved in hushed whispers, but the Winchesters’ words were doomed to carry with their baritone. After Madison admonished them for not having more to eat in their fridge, Dean stepped up and ordered a combo of both greasy and sweet options to be delivered with an impressive tip to the driver for their discretion.

Bela helped herself to Dean’s shower and some of his clothes. And if anyone had found it odd that they hadn’t slept together, no one was ballsy enough to mention it. Or maybe they were all just too hungover to care. 

He still hadn’t seen Pam and company emerge and he wondered if he was going to have to risk walking in on some alternative hangover cures. 

Luckily for everyone, the pounding on the front door for the food was enough to rouse the stragglers and beckon them back to civilization.

“Happy 2018 everybody!” Pam croaked with a shiteating grin on her face as she took in everyone’s subdued state.

She was met with lackluster replies, grumbles and a very sarcastic cheer from Charlie. She tutted at them and sauntered her way towards the jelly donuts.

As rough as he felt, Dean lived for mornings (or early afternoons) like this. His kitchen was filled with people he loved, sharing food and just existing together, safe and warm. It’s what being in a band was all about. He started another pot of coffee when Bela slinked over and hugged him from behind, resting her face between his shoulder blades.

“I’ll just have a nap right here, thanks,” she mumbled against his shirt.

“Oh yeah?” Dean peered down at her. “You know, you can take my bed if you’re still tired, not gonna rush anybody out today.”

“‘S too far,” Bela complained. “And I already showered, no sense delaying the inevitable.”

Dean turned in her arms, letting her rest against his chest instead. He rubbed her back and looked up when he felt someone watching him. You sat folded in on yourself on one of the tall chairs, looking as if you were going to puke all over the counter.

“You okay over there?” Dean asked, more alarm slipping into his voice than the jest he intended. He cleared his throat, but didn’t let go of Bela as she turned to look at who he was talking to.

Gaping at him like a deer caught in the headlights, you nodded. 

Dean reminded himself to breathe, feeling everything you were saying by the look in your eyes. He fucked up. But in that moment there was nothing he could say that would fix it. Bela was supposed to be his girl, it would be too obvious to step away from her now.

As much as he suddenly wanted distance, he held on tighter, like she was a shield against his feelings for you. And against the look of betrayal in your eyes.

“When do you want to leave— Y/N?” Bela broke through Dean’s silent spiraling and started making plans to get home.

“Lemme drive you guys— could use some fresh air,” Dean cut in before they could order a ride.

“Are you sure? I’m a little out of the way,” you asked, worried over being a burden or being trapped in a car with him, Dean couldn’t be sure.

“Positive, just say when, and I’ll get Baby all set to go,” Dean insisted.

Bela kissed Dean on the cheek and thanked him for a wonderful time, promising to text him her schedule later. She reached over the backseat to grab your hand, smiling mischievously, “another one for the books. See you at brunch?”

“If I can eat by then,” you muttered, smirking as she slid out of the car.

“Bye!” Bela called as she disappeared through the door from the garage into the kitchen.

Dean cleared his throat and leered at you in the rearview mirror.

“You gonna come up here or am I gonna have to call you Miss Daisy?”

You rolled your eyes at him, but you didn’t open your door.

“I can wait all day. If you think you can out- stubborn me–,”

“FINE!” you snapped, throwing open the door and almost slamming it into Bela’s car’s rear end. “Asshole.”

Dean tried not to laugh outright, but you were kind of adorable when you were pissed. Once you were situated in the passenger seat, purse and coat lumped on your lap and seat belt secured, Dean continued to wait.

“What?! We can go now.”

“Easy! I’m just adjusting my mirrors, don’t want to back into anything,” Dean added with an air of responsibility.

“You so were not,” you grumbled, huffing before leering at the sideview as Dean crawled out of Bela’s driveway.

It was going to be a long drive.

Once they were out of the canyon, Dean decided he was going to have to put some of those lessons from Missouri to use. “So— you wanna talk about it?”

You glared at him like he asked if you wanted to eat your jacket.

“Come on, I know you’re pissed. Let me have it,” Dean egged you on, okay, maybe he could have said that better.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you muttered, eyes on your hands.

“Really? You gonna pretend you’re not having a bitchfit right now?”

“Dean Henry Winchester, do not make me call Charlie and tell her you called me a bitch.” And just like that you were all in. “I cannot believe you right now.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“No, look, you can’t just go around kissing people and then shoving your relationship in their faces. It’s called mixed signals, asshole!”

“Oh, so you can call me an asshole, but I can’t call you names?!”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

Dean sighed, he was letting himself get defensive instead of focusing on what you were really saying. It suddenly felt like a horrible idea to have this conversation when neither of you could escape.

“I don’t know what relationship you’re talking about— the fake dating thing you roped me into?! Cuz that’s not real, that’s playing nice— for you!” Dean hadn’t realized how much he resented you for this whole set up, but now that the words were out of his mouth, things made a lot more sense.

“Bullshit,” you spat.

“You want me to ignore her, huh? Pretend she’s not there, in front of everybody this could hurt if it gets out that it’s all a lie?!”

You turned on him then, taking a deep breath as Dean made sure he wasn’t too distracted to drive. “Is it a lie?”

Dean looked back at the road and licked his lips. How much did you know? How much was it safe to tell you? How much of Bela’s life was private, even from you?

“What are you talking about?! Of course it’s a lie, an act, a ruse! You were the mastermind here, remember?!”

“You know what, Dean? I think the lady doth protest too much,” you said. “I think you know it was wrong to do what you did, but now you’re trying to pin this on me. When I only did it to cover your ass!”

“That is so not fair. I own my shit. What are you really pissed at here? Me in general? Me kissing you? Me hugging Bela? Me making your job harder? WHAT?!”

You groaned. “YES! Okay? YES!”

You stopped your tirade and looked at him and Dean felt you deflate as he glanced back onto the road ahead.

You started over, trying for calm, “you are inherently annoying, I think we both know that.”

Dean huffed. “Yeah, thanks.”

“No, listen. I knew this thing wasn’t going to be easy— for any of us. But it’s the best way to turn everything around. But— if you can’t do it anymore, if there’s something you need to tell me, I’ll understand. We’ll figure it out, okay? Just— just don’t lie to me, okay? I can’t fix things if I don’t have the whole story.”

Dean felt about two inches tall. He wiped his hand down his face and growled, pissed at himself and whatever you were fishing for. Because it was still all his fault. Somehow, he had gotten you home, he pulled into the driveway and killed the engine.

“I can do it, okay? This is on me. I’ll make it right. I’ll be on my best behavior, get us out on tour without a hitch. Make the label all the money and start to earn back everybody’s respect. I owe them all that much,” Dean promised to your suspicious face.

“Dean—”

“What?”

“Is there anything I should know? Seriously. I won’t be pissed. I just— feel like, like I’m out of the loop on this.”

“You were there all night. I think you got a good idea how things are going. Uh, what more can I say, you know? I’m sorry, though, for making you worry. Okay?” Dean ducked his head, making sure you were seeing him, eyes trying to make you see what he couldn’t say, but what he most definitely felt.

Maybe he hadn’t learned anything from Missouri at all. But he was still trying.

“If you’re sure— we’ll keep it going. We've still got over a month before we’re on the road, but it’s gonna go fast now. I just need you to be on your A game,” you said firmly, cementing it into the fabric of your shared reality.

Just keep carrying on.

Dean could do that. He had to.

“Sounds like a plan. And Trouble, do me a favor?” Dean leaned over, slipping into his charming self. “You gotta loosen up, okay? Get a hobby, get laid, just find somewhere to put all this shit you carry so it’s not weighing you down. Okay?”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, tossing the door open and crawling out. “Like it’s that easy. Happy New Year, Dean, drive safe.”

“Later.”

Dean waited until you made it into the house before starting the engine back up. He didn’t go home right away, instead he took a drive along the coast, letting his mind try and untangle the knot you’d just made by having that conversation. 

Six am came way too early the following morning and with it, Sam pounding on Dean’s door to get his ass downstairs and into the gym. Right, his New Year’s resolution and his fucking brother holding him to it. 

“Gotta piss, calm down Billy Blanks,” Dean groaned, rolling out of bed.

He did his business, changed into something he could move around in, and finally found some tennis shoes at the back of his closet.

By the time he made it into the part of their basement they had turned into a gym, Sam was already sweating with a jump rope warm up. 

“What?! I’m here aren’t I? It’s not that late,” Dean grumbled at Sam’s judgey face.

They worked out with little discussion, spotting each other when they moved onto weights. They hadn’t worked out the details of this new shared routine, but slowly Dean felt it falling into place. The strain of his muscles and the swelling of his lungs all reminded him to be present and mindful. To let his body take over building when his mind wanted to use it to punish.

After they had stretched and were winding down, Dean decided to tape up his hands and spend some time on their speed bag. But, of course, that drew Sam’s attention.

Anything that hinted at Cain or Alastair always did.

“What?”

Sam looked him over. “You good?”

Dean didn’t want to have a different version of the trainwreck conversation the day before. But Sam knew everything, more or less anyway. Dean didn’t look up from his task, mesmerized by how soft his knuckles had gotten recently.

“I kissed Trouble.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Sam laughed, actually, genuinely laughed at him. “How’d that go?”

Dean considered the act itself. “Well—- she didn’t hit me.”

Sam sat down on the end of the bench, settling in for the dirt. “Were you expecting her to?

Dean looked over and saw Sam was no longer teasing. “Could you blame her? Some guy like me? A fuck up with a history of diddling her friends?”

“Dean.”

“I know, I know. Believe in myself. I am worthy of love. I know, okay. Just… she didn’t say anything. Just stood there after pulling away, staring at me in total shock.”

“Did she kiss you back?”

Dean thought about it, remembering the way your mouth let him in. “At first, yeah.”

Sam chewed that over. “Does Bela know how you feel about her?”

“Sam, I’m not even sure how I feel about her.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah you are. You just have been too stupid and self deprecating to do anything about it. Does she?”

Dean shook his head.

“Are you guys fucking?”

“Not like, committedly.”

“Okay, well, you should probably stop that. And tell Trouble how deep you’re in it. Like, I hate being alone with you two, it’s so obvious.”

Dean flipped Sam off.

“What? No, I’m serious. You guys just need to get over your shit and tell each other how you feel. And warn me, because I do not want to come home for like a week after all those years of tension is finally worked out, god.”

Dean kind of gets lost in that image for a minute. “Nah, we’d go to her place. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Sam couldn’t even tease him after how pathetic he sounded. “But first you need to tell her.”

Dean sighed. “I can’t. I promised her I’d behave and stick to the plan. I can’t risk pissing off Dick and Crowley anymore, I don’t want to jeopardize the band.”

“I’m pretty sure I told you this was a bad idea and I just want to reiterate that point,” Sam snarked.

“Yeah, well, them’s the breaks,” Dean huffed as he hauled himself up and squared off with the hanging bag.

He found a rhythm and kept on his toes.

“Dean, seriously, just tell her how you feel. Life’s too short, you know?” Sam said to Dean’s back.

Dean sighed, upping his pace. Because, yeah, life was really too short.

But there was still nothing he could do about it now.

Author's Note: LISTEN! I did not even outline the first 2/3rds of this chapter. IT just HAPPENED, so yeah, they're still both idiots.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter Seventeen: Trill

[cryptidofthewww]

Turning AU!!

Spirit King Yuder!

Spirits have long since persisted in the world of turning, although very rarely are they seen by humans. They’re kind of like fae in that they are elusive, mischievous, and inhuman. Spirits like to make deals like fae, and the only real difference is that they’re all embodiments of elements of nature. The older the feature of nature is the older the spirit is. Although to even look like a child the spirit has to be centuries old (ex: rivers, newer landscapes) spirits of things such as flowers and younger trees are more like sprites or animals, and have a similarly lower intellect. Humans are as aware of spirits as we are of fae (few believe but it is somewhat widely known) spirits typically can’t be seen which is part of why people don’t believe in them. The Awakening happens as per usual and this is where Yuder comes in.

Basically there are two options for this AU

1.

Yuder has been spirit king since forever and isn’t beholden to the same rules as his subjects. So when the awakening happens he gets curious and attempts to insert himself into life near the site of the red stone. This ends up with him joining the cavalry, this time with his motivation being satisfying his curiosity. He ends up in various shenanigans with the cavalry as a result of his clear inhumanity. It would be extra funny if literally everybody thinks Yuder is a spy because of how suspiciously he’s acting (talking to thin air, sneaking around, missing at odd times, disrespecting ALL royalty) and when Enon joins (they already know each other) he adds fuel to the fire because he thinks it’s funny. They probably find out because one of the spirits forgets to hide themselves one day.

2. The ANGSTIER option

The spirits have their own main element(wind, earth, fire, water) kings, but when Yuder gains abilities from the red stone he gains the ability to control all of nature. A power that no one else in the history of the world was able to do. With all of nature (meaning spirits as well) respecting his will, this triggers Yuder’s gradual ascension into a spirit (king).

Btw the reason no other awakened or mage ascended to a spirit is because they typically have one or two spirits following them around where it’s a symbiotic relationship, essentially a deal, where the person gets control over the element, while the spirits powers grow. The difference is literally all spirits listen to Yuder and obey him as long as he as the power to direct them.

In the 1st timeline Yuder found out about the world ending much earlier, along with the Pethuamet’s incident (he didn’t make it in time, although the cavalry got there faster) due to the spirits. This doesn’t actually mean anything and he’s even more stressed (with less evidence but more likelihood in the world ending) and kishiar is not helping. And Yuder’s own pending immortality is going to suck ass in a world that’s ended. The spirits being the mischievous little fuckers that they are tell Yuder to just take kishiar’s soul bcs he likes him and he’ll probably be less annoying. Yuder is understandably distressed by this and tired of the spirits bs, but does agree when the spirits tell him he can just let kishiar live out his natural life span then take his soul, and it’ll be even easier considering their connection and many “deals”.

So things (unsurprisingly) go to shit when Kishiar severs their connection. Yuder at that point had been pretty well into integrating into the world, and having a part of the (eventual) spirit king’s soul ripped out made everything that much worse.

If you’re wondering about how exactly Kishiar had enough power to do that, think a pebble causing an avalanche, with Yuder’s soul being the pebble, the end of the world being the avalanche.

Yuder then goes though canon 1st timeline events with the main difference being Yuder refusing to use his powers, rather than being unable to. ( he feels he caused the end, for no real reason)

I don’t know how much changes other than Yuder’s emotional state (it’s 10x worse) and how much he tries to push Kishiar away bcs he doesn’t want to force him into selling his soul away ( We all know Kishiar would be all in as long as it’s his precious Yuder 😊)

Anyways he and Emon also have existential crises together too now.

[acidangel011]

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.. shy!loser!kang no-eul x sweetheart!popular girl!reader

written by @acidangel011 ( ˶˘ ³˘(⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆)

pairing(s) : kang no-eul x f!reader

contents : high school au! fluff/comfort, black cat x orange cat, no-eul & reader being unfathomably inlove with each other! maybe ooc since this is an au?

synopsis : in a world where you effortlessly blend into the crowd—finding comfort in your friends circling you with laughter, whispered secrets, and the hum of fleeting trends—your gaze always drifts toward her.

kang no-eul.

she was quiet, reserved, a storm hidden beneath still waters. she moves through life untouched, yet something about her pulls you in, an invisible thread weaving your fate with hers.

you never thought she noticed you. never realized she felt the same. that was, until the annual highschool bazaar.

wc : 2.69k taglist : @.vigilxntesht @.sunshinefever @.knfthxv @.wiltingconquest @.amorisi

(a/n) NOT PROOFREAD YET GUYS <3 i love kang no-eul sm someone hold me down

the morning sun kissed your skin, tracing the curves and contours of your form with golden light. you were seated in your usual spot beside your dearest friends, talking about nothing and everything at the same time.

you had always been the center of attention.

your eyes would flitter around the small crowd that formed around you, lashes fluttering as you drank in the latest whispers of gossip, covering your face and snickering at the joke one of the guys had pulled.

yet, despite the adoration everybody had towards you, despite the countless amount of praise you get, your mind would always wander off, your brain gets fuzzy, your friends chatter around you blurred into white noise.

your eyes would always find her.

kang no-eul.

no-eul was nothing short of the quiet, reserved kid. the girl who lived in the awkward spaces between conversations, she kept to her self, but she still managed to be kind to everybody— even though her kindness wasn't really repaid, all the while keeping her guard up.

your friends weren't too fond of her. they were nicer than most people no-eul had encounter but they'd glare at you then narrow their gaze to no-eul every time you greeted her in the morning. —

"morning, no-eul!" you beamed, your eyes crinkled with amusement at the sight of the disheveled, tired girl frozen in the doorway.

no-eul stood there, stunned. as if she couldn’t quite believe that greeting was meant for her. the tips of her ears flushed a deep crimson, she croaked a weak 'hi' at you, before shuffling to her seat.

"since when were you close to kang no-eul?" one of your friends pressed, curiosity gleaming in their eyes. you just shot her a knowing smile and shrugged.

your friend wasn’t satisfied. they leaned in, lowering their voice as if sharing some great secret. "i don’t know… she’s odd." —

you never hesitated to scold your friends when they were unkind to others, but the girls outside your friend group were a whole different story.

no-eul would pass by you in the hallways, her eyes glued to the ground in shame whenever she saw them trailing behind you.

in class, those said girls would answer the teacher’s questions before no-eul could even part her lips.

one day, during passing period, you finally witnessed firsthand just how cruel those girls could be. —

you stepped into the bathroom just as the group of girls swept out, their laughter still echoing against the tiles. you beelined to the only stall in the bathroom that was occupied.

the last bathroom booth door swung open. she flinched at the looming shadow cast over her. but when she lifted her eyes, she found no cruelty there—only worry, raw and unguarded.

"no-eul!" your voice cracked as you dropped to your knees right in front of her, the feeling of your kneecaps hitting the cold tiles sent a jolt throughout your body.

your hands fumbled or the nearest roll of toilet paper. "who did this to you..?"

your fingers worked in frantic desperation, dabbing at her soaked uniform, her cold cheeks, as if wiping away the water could erase the hurt. but her silence, her downcast eyes, told you everything.

no-eul just sat there, perched atop the closed toilet lid without a word, head hung low in shame, her hands curled into fists on her lap. —

there was always something about her that drew you in, you've always asked yourself why.

was it because you both were total polar opposites?

was it the way her soft, raven hair that barely kissed the nape of her neck, dancing in the cold breeze of the morning air made your heart leap?

maybe it's how her pretty chapped lips pursed in concentration and her gaze half-lidded as she lost herself in thought?

the way she would wear a lopsided smirk, showing off her toothy grin whenever your history teacher made a dumb joke?

she'd always sit exactly right behind you, her presence a quiet shadow, her best friend gyeong-seok right next to her. but he was more intrigued by the pages in between his sketchbook rather than his desperate, lovesick friend. —

the school bell rang, signaling that it was time for lunch break. no-eul practically stumbled out of her desk, her grip firm on gyeong-seok as she practically dragged the artist to the school's rooftop.

that’s where she told him.

"you're in love with who..?"

she confessed in fragments, recounting everything she felt towards you—how she's felt this feeling deep down ever since high-school started, how she caught herself staring too long, how her pulse raced whenever she was assigned to work with you, how she found herself doing things she would never do for anyone else.

she basically moped all day after venting to the artist, complaining how you were 'too out of her league' and 'wouldn't notice someone like her'.

boy, was she wrong.

no-eul was nothing like you. even though she had always stayed true to her feelings, she was physically and emotionally unable to express them—the words always caught in her throat, weighed down by hesitation.

so instead, she expressed them in quieter ways—subtle, almost imperceptible. a lingering glance. a touch that lasted a second too long. a presence that was always near, even if she never said why. —

the first semester of junior year had been hard on you, you felt like your mind was going in circles with all of the schoolwork you had piled up, frustration clawing at the edges of your patience.

no-eul noticed your harsh scowl, you tried to make sense of the question on the physics paper, your pen skated through the parchment in desperate, nonsensical attempts at answers. your brows knit together, as the gears in your head try to turn.

a thought brewed in no-eul's mind. she wasn’t one to offer help freely—usually. she’d toss her notes to whoever asked, letting them fend for themselves.. but something urged her to actually teach you.

you were deep in thought, your hands gripped the strands of your hair when a sharp screech of metal against tile jolted you from your trance, no-eul's chair dragged right next to you.

your eyes slowly turned to the tall figure standing next to you, her desk chair was still held close to her, "no-eul?"

"i- uh.. sorry, i should've asked first.. do you need any help?" she stuttered, setting her chair right beside you, its impact made a loud scraping noise that made her squeeze her eyes in grimace.

your heart swelled at her pathetic attempt on trying to assist you. you nodded eagerly with a smile at the offer, from then on, whenever you're struggling with any subjects, no-eul would be there to help.

you'd purposely get some questions wrong, ask questions you already know the answer to, just to feel her fingertips accidentally brush against yours as she guided you toward the right answer. —

unlike no-eul, the moment you realized your feelings—when the pieces clicked into place and the weight of your affection settled in your chest—you didn’t shy away. you didn’t overthink or hesitate. instead, you showed your interest by acting on it.

"no-eul-ah! the school's anniversary festival is coming up soon, do you want to spend the day together?" you asked, hope gleamed in your eyes as you gripped the edge of her desk, leaning towards her.

safe to say, no-eul short circuited at the question, her brain stalled, staring at you for what seems like eternity in disbelief. how could you.. always oh so effortlessly charming, a beacon of warmth in a wave of ordinary—asked her, of all people?

the classroom fell into silence. your friend group, along with a few curious classmates, had already turned their full attention to the unfolding scene, watching with barely concealed interest.

no-eul's stomach twisted. was this okay? was this safe? would this—whatever this was—somehow taint your untouchable reputation?

you batted your lashes in anticipation, when it took her a second longer to respond, you started chewing on your lip. maybe you had just embarrass yourself..

"oh, um, it's okay.. i'll let you think about it..!" you smiled weakly, fidgeting with the edge of your manicured nails, your eyes glued to the floor tiles as you turned on your heel, retreating back to your seat.

no-eul grasped your forearm, pulling you back. firm yet hesitant. afraid that the opportunity to get to know you better would slip away.

"wait." her voice was low and breathy. enough to make your heart stutter. "i want to go to the festival with you."

"i would.. love to go to the festival with you." —

no-eul had only ever dreamed of being so close to you.

you, ever the social butterfly, were always surrounded by friends, laughter, and effortless conversation. no-eul never had the chance to truly talk to you—not in a way that mattered. not in a way where it was just the two of you, without the noise, without the watching eyes.

so when the festival finally came, you were hand in hand with a very nervous kang no-eul, strolling through the vibrant bazaar.

the air buzzed with laughter and excitement, the stalls adorned with patterned tarps, fluttering banners, and balloons swaying gently in the breeze.

as you both enjoyed each others company, you were reminded that you are well-known among the other classes aswell, and lingering stares followed you both. whispers of curiosity hung in the air, no doubt intrigued by the unexpected sight of such an unlikely pair.

no-eul was definitely self-conscious about herself, constantly checking in on you, asking if you were alright—if you were comfortable. it was in her nature to worry, to overthink, especially in unfamiliar environments like this. she would usually either stay back at home at free days like this or visit the local library with gyeong-seok, but she couldn't pass up the opportunity to go on a cute date with her painfully cliché high-school crush!

you opted for cute snacks the sophomores were selling as a way to fund their upcoming field-trip. you gushed to no-eul how much you missed doing fundraisers like that last year, reminiscing about the chaos of baking sales and last-minute poster-making as you both share a cookie bomb sundae.

no-eul was more of a listener rather than a talker, she loved how excited you get talking about the things you adored. conversation ran smoothly between you two the initial awkwardness melting away like the last remnants of your shared sundae now that the ice is slowly breaking. —

"no-eul, look! carnival games!" you squealed, excitement bubbling over as you rushed over the lively, red-and-white circus tent that the seniors were running.

it was a shooting game—aim at the center of the moving rubber ducky four times, and you win a giant plushie.

you gawked at the periwinkle-purple bunny that hung high above the stand, its oversized, glittery eyes practically begging you to take it home.

"i'll try!" you smiled at the attendee. determination settling in.

"what?" no-eul blinked, watching you slap a wad of money on the counter.

a basketful of paintball ammo was slid towards you, 8 chances.

you gulped at the sight of the paintball gun, suddenly feeling the weight of reality settle on your shoulders. you had never handled one before.

"gosh, i'm going to embarrass myself!" you whined, fumbling while filling in the paintball gun with those jawbreaker looking ammos.

no-eul stayed silent, her expression unreadable— before she gave you a reassuring smile before tucking a strand of your hair that covered your vision back.

"stay focused, yeah?"

your breath hitched, your cheeks were tinted with the softest shade of pink, your heart felt warm at the sudden touch. you nodded at her, your eyes still bore onto her espresso-brown ones before turning your gaze back at the rapidly moving ducks.

1.. missed.

2.. missed again.

3.. another one?

4.. okay you were bad at this.

you turned back to no-eul with an awkward, shy smile. ready for her to laugh at you like your friends would usually do when you mess up these silly little games.

but no.

"may i?" no-eul’s voice was gentle, yet firm. she gently removed the paintball gun from your hands without a word, letting herself handle it and get into position.

4 paintballs left.

1.. hit

2.. another hit.

3.. bullseye.

4..

..you walked off the stand, grinning from ear to ear at your new periwinkle bunny best friend clutched tightly to your chest.

as you both wandered through the festival, your excitement was impossible to contain. no-eul could feel your gaze on her, the way you kept glancing up at her with starry eyes, your voice bubbling over with giddy little' thank you''s to her, satisfied with your prize.

"yeah, yeah, you're cute. just stop smiling at me like that." she teased, a weak, dumb smirk plastered across her face.

"where did you learn to shoot like that?" you queried her innocently, only squeezing her arm tighter.

"..that's a story for another day." no-eul glanced at you, her smirk widening ever so slightly, a flicker of pride in her eyes—pleased that she was the reason behind your bright smile.

you both ended the day in front of the outdoor stage, the sun melting into the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold and indigo. — principal young-il announced today's successful fundraiser, where the sophomore kids had raised enough money to fund their long-awaited school field-trip. ending the day with celebratory fireworks.

"i.. really liked spending time with you today." no-eul admitted, the tip of her freckled nose twitch in the cold air. a small, playful smile played on her lips.

your heart swole at the confession. this might've been the most fun you've had since forever. "you did?" you asked, your voice soft, almost hesitant—like you didn’t want to startle the moment away.

no-eul just smiled at you, her eyes half-lidded. a raw, pure emotion hid underneath her tired eyes. "i just wish we could.. spend time with each other more, like this."

"hmm." you hummed in agreement, relishing the warmth of the night despite the cool breeze, "well.. why don't we?"

the first firework bloomed in a burst of gold. the glow illuminated her features—her sharp yet delicate eyes, the faint dusting of freckles across her nose, the barely-there flush creeping up her cheeks.

"would you like.. to?.." the short-haired girl asked shyly, earning an airy giggle from you.

"of course, no-eul." you cooed, turning your body to face her. "i would love to spend time with you and get to know you."

no-eul mimicked your movements, turning her full body towards you. her eyebrows furrowed, her lips curled into a familiar frown— worry plastered across her face.

you gently took her hands in yours, fingertips grazing against her palm in a quiet reassurance. "i know what you're thinking.. i don't care what my friends think, what other people think. what i think.. is that if they got to know you better.. they'll understand while i like you."

a second firework erupted, however it was not the one that lit up the evening sky, it was one close to no-eul's heart. she adored how you could understand her so quickly, how you could make all her worries disappear in a second.

no-eul brought up your intertwined hands to her face, soothing herself with your touch before planting a sweet kiss on top of your knuckles.

"thank you.. for understanding me."

you hummed in response, a small exhale escaping your lips. you tilted your head up to the sky, the fireworks reflected in your eyes, shimmering like tiny nebulas, and no-eul couldn’t help but stare.

the noise of the festival seemed distant now, fading into a blur of laughter and chatter. here, in this fleeting moment, it was just the two of you.

you felt something unspoken between the two of you, words teetering in the tip of your tongue that needed to be put out, but you both decided to let the silence speak for itself.

because no-eul was here, with you.

and that's all you needed.

[mowiwow]

four a.m. (modern lars)

In the earliest hours of day, or perhaps the latest hours of night, his eyes slowly open.

It takes a second for the world to come into focus. His screensaver, a picture of the very first painting he bought from you, has long since been replaced by a sea of inky darkness. The cold white light of his office forces him to squint his eyes a little as he surveys the room.

With one hand idly running through already messy blonde locks, Lars moves the mouse to his desktop and blinks slowly at the time displayed in the corner.

4:51 A.M.

An odd hour. Not concretely night, nor is it concretely morning.

…He must’ve fallen asleep right after finalizing everything for tomorrow.

Lars supposes that it’s already tomorrow.

Quietly, in that lonely office elevated high above the streets that everybody walks, the CEO laughs to himself. He leans back in his chair, wincing when his limbs protest in the form of a dull ache. He stares blankly at the ceiling, not yet fully awake.

When was the last time he fell asleep like this?

Usually, he would’ve managed to at least move to the couch in the office. Lars thought he had the strength to fight off the ever-pervading sense of exhaustion, but perhaps he thought wrong.

Or…

Maybe not.

He’s pulled his fair share of all-nighters in the past. If he had to make a guess, the thing that was different was…

Well, after being reminded to take frequent rests by a certain someone, Lars has started to remember what it was like to feel exhaustion as any other regular human would. He lets out another groan, as a faint headache pokes and prods at him. No doubt, it was the lack of sleep he’d been getting during this busier season.

In this large room— a room he spent more time in than his own bedroom— Lars lets himself massage his forehead in an attempt to ease the headache. Nobody’s around for him to entertain, so he freely lets his lips purse into a vaguely annoyed and tired frown.

He really should sleep sometime.

Truthfully, it wasn’t only you that reminded him to get more rest. Mrs. Lane, the housekeeper, occasionally hinted to him her concern over the eyebags he tries to hide. His grandmother, when he calls her— something that tends to be rarer nowadays due to his hectic schedule— often checks up on him when she picks up on the slightest sleepy drag of his words.

Even his driver sometimes looked back at him, from the front mirror, and Lars could see the concern in Mr. Bond’s gaze through that reflection.

Maybe he’s losing a bit of his touch. There are far too many people who have been trying to subtly hint at Lars that he needs more sleep.

…What can he do? With much of his day dedicated to discussing with various business partners, or tending to commitments that had been scheduled weeks earlier, the night has to be dedicated towards preparing for the next hectic day.

But when he imagines your puffed-out cheeks, furrowed brows, and eyes peeking at him with blatant concern, he lets out a resigned sigh. 

Lars is stubborn, but he is no fool. He’s aware that he’s pushing the limits of his body, and that it would be wise for him to spend more time— at the very least— napping rather than staring at documents.

After meeting you, he’s been able to dedicate a little more time to relaxation. Not much. Yet it’s just enough that, once Lars has hit the busiest month of the year, he’s filled with an indescribable heaviness. He’d love to crawl into a warm, fluffy bed right about now.

Honestly, he’s not sure how to feel. Should he laugh? Or cry? It would seem that meeting you had made him more prone to noticing his own exhaustion. He fears he might not be as tolerant of all-nighters anymore.

Well, no point in sitting around to think about it. He still feels exhausted, and he can afford a short nap before he’ll have to continue on with the day.

Might as well get in those final hours of sleep somewhere more comfortable than his desk.

Lars stands up, dragging himself over to the couch in his office. The tired shadow that covers his usually brilliant eyes lightens up a little when he spots the blanket carefully folded on one of the couch cushions.

It’s a faintly yellow blanket with a simple, cartoonish lion stitched onto one corner. Beneath it is a plain pillow that stands out amongst the fancier pillows decorating the couch. On it is a sunflower, stitched on in a similar manner as the lion.

He feels warm. And, as he wraps himself up in the blanket, with his head resting on top of the pillow, it’s as though he’s engulfed in a kind and sincere hug.

Some days are harder to get through than others. But, when he remembers all of those who continue to care for him through their own schedules, through their respective hardships…

Well, he thinks he can keep on going for many days to come.

[anonymous-dentist]

q!Etoiles assuring q!Cellbit last night kinda made me realize that they’re two kinda similar characters when it comes to how the island sees them, because the island doesn’t actually see them.

Think about it.

Etoiles is the Code Breaker. He’s the island’s shield. He is their last line of defense for protecting the eggs and, if he dies, so does everybody else. Imagine how that feels, knowing that one mistake could kill every last child on the island. When there’s a Code, call Etoiles, he’ll always come running because he’s the only one who can. Even when he isn’t confident in his odds, everybody looks at him like a hero and says he’s their last hope, and that’s gotta wear a guy down

And Cellbit is the mystery guy. If there’s a mystery, he’ll solve it. Even if the island doesn’t necessarily trust him, they depend on him to solve things even when he himself says that he doesn’t think he can. People see a puzzle and go, “Well, Cellbit can fix this!” When he ‘wakes up’, at least one person has usually gone, “Oh, good, he’s awake, now we can solve this enigma and stop the Federation”. And after all the failures he’s been experiencing lately, the fact that everyone leans on him to help solve everything has to be breaking him

So Etoiles assuring Cellbit last night was one tired hero telling the other that it’s okay. It’s hard now, but it’ll be okay. And I think he’s the first person besides Pac and Roier who’s actually acknowledged how hard Cellbit must be taking all of this considering half the server is waiting for him to figure things out and rescue all the eggs and save Forever. He’s a hero, but he’s also just a guy, and I think Etoiles the French Beast, who just wants to keep his daughter and her friends safe, knows that better than anyone

[the-mountain-flower]

The Legend of Alinua

Chapter Three: It’s A Secret To Everybody

Ao3 Link (lol)

Previous chapter

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Kendal was thankful that he apparently inherited Vash’s muscle memory for riding. It didn’t take much for him to learn how to ride Epona, mostly because he seemed to automatically know most of the motions, and Vash only needed to fill in a few tidbits of information.

“I’m glad that worked.” Vash admitted, “Not gonna lie, I was a bit worried. Epona can be a bit… peculiar.”

Epona did hesitate a bit when Kendal approached, as if immediately identifying him as not her usual rider. She seemed to accept him quickly, even if only because of Vash‘s reassurances

Which… might’ve been the only actual reaction to his presence at all.

“I know I’m kind of new to everything here, but,” Kendal began, “back at the stable, did anything strike you as odd about how people were around us?” He might’ve just misread the situation, or missed something while asleep, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of something being off. No one had asked about, or even seem to acknowledge, the ghost’s presence.

Vash nodded. “I noticed it too. Ghosts aren’t exactly a common occurrence, I don’t even think most believe they exist.”

“Maybe they didn’t realize that’s what you were?”

Vash paused, then nodded. “Yes, yes that must’ve been it,” he said uncertainly.

Kendal wasn’t convinced, and could tell that Vash wasn’t either.

Two more days of travel, and Vash and Kendal had ample time to talk, for Vash to fill Kendal in on what he knew, and for the two of them to start coming up with a plan.

Kendal and Epona had to camp in the wild the second night on the road, but were able to rest at a stable the next and final night. Once again, no one seemed to notice the ghost’s presence, acting like he wasn’t even there, something they still had no explanation for.

Now they were nearing somewhere called Midla Village, where Vash lived (or, had lived), and where Kendal could start getting ready for the quest ahead of him.

“I hope your friends and family are okay with this.” Kendal said, still nervous about the reaction to Vash being a ghost, or to himself now inhabiting his body.

“Me too. If I could’ve explained it to them earlier, I-”

“VASH!”

Kendal and Vash’s attention was drawn to the voice that had called out. A brown-haired hylian man ran up to them, relief evident on his face.

“Beran,” Vash walked up to meet him, “I can explain- hey!”

The man called Beran went right through Vash as if he wasn’t there, running up to Kendal and Epona.

“So good to see you back, but don’t ever scare us like that again!” Beran said to Kendal. “You have some explaining to do!”

“Uh,” Kendal fumbled with his words, “but, I’m not…”

“Cut him some slack,” Vash said firmly, though clearly shaken. “Like I was saying, I can explain everything.”

Beran didn’t even acknowledge Vash was talking, just looked at Kendal with a confused expression. “You’re not what?”

“I’m not Vash,” Kendal gestured to Vash, “he is.”

Beran looked over to where Kendal indicated. His gaze went right over Vash like he wasn’t there.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you can tell us all later. You look tired from your journey, I can take Epona to her stall while you go rest if you’d like.”

“Wait,” Vash waved a hand in front of Beran’s face. “Can you not see me?”

No response.

“Can you see him?” Kendal asked.

“See who?”

Kendal froze. So that’s why no one had reacted to the presence of a ghost.

Vash paused for a moment before telling Kendal, “He… he can take Epona to her home. She trusts him.”

“I’d appreciate that, thanks.” Kendal told Beran, trying to act normal as he dismounted Epona.

“Go get some rest,” Beran told Kendal as he took Epona’s reins in his hands, “I’ll let everyone know you’re home safe.”

“...Thanks.”

Vash directed Kendal to his house on the edge of town. Neither of them said a word until they were inside.

“I am so sorry.” Kendal said immediately when he closed the door.

“What are you talking about?” Vash insisted, “I dragged you into this mess, I’m sorry! I had no idea that… that they couldn’t see me. I don’t…” he paused, his expression a mix between guilt and sadness, “I don’t know why…”

The two stood there in silence for several moments.

Kendal eventually spoke up, “Are you sure you can’t take your body back when this is all over?”

Vash shook his head. “The Great Deku Tree was very clear. The ritual... I gave it up permanently. It’s not mine anymore. It’s yours.”

“I’m sorry.” Kendal said again.

“Don’t be. None of this is your fault.”

“Isn’t it, though?”

Vash gave Kendal a firm look. “You can’t be at fault for something you didn’t choose.”

Kendal sat down on a chair in the corner of the room. “So what now?”

“I… I don’t know.” Vash admitted. “But, I guess whether or not they know doesn’t have much bearing on the task ahead...”

Well, now Erin was certain he’d found some answers.

Unfortunately, no one was going to let him know those answers!

Erin entered the rented room in the inn, closing the door behind him somewhat harder than he’d meant to. He was too frustrated and embarrassed to care.

It didn’t take him too long to figure out the three-triangle symbol was part of the crest of the long-lost royal family of Hyrule. And who better to ask about something like that than the Sheikah, who served the royal family back before the kingdom fell?

But it looked like his three days’ journey to Kakariko Village might only led to a dead end. He knew the Sheikah kept their secrets diligently, but he didn’t know they were so close-lipped about everything, even to him!

He may have gotten into a heated argument with the archivist that handled written records of the Sheikah secrets, that was also a contributing factor in his misery. Erin was self-aware enough to know he’d been more than a little disrespectful, and he should probably go apologize to her the next day.

Maybe he should tell her about the triple triangles appearing on his hand? He hadn’t told anyone yet, deciding against it until he got at least an idea of what it could mean or what caused it. But in this case, it was probably important enough to communicate his reasons for needing to know about it.

Tomorrow, he decided, once he was rested and less emotional about his bruised ego. I’ll apologize, and try again tomorrow.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Remember to drink water, eat food, take your meds (if applicable), and get enough sleep. Love you all, and have a great [insert time here]! <3

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

violently smashing my two major fandoms with an F together as a form of procrastination

A question for the ages: WHICH Avatar character matches up with WHICH Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle one and WHY the fuck should anyone (besides me) care? We'll answer at least one of those questions for you tonight, dear viewers!!!!

First up

Neteyam - Leo

Eldest son, blue theme (like I could say this for all the Sullys, but shush), can do no wrong except when one of the siblings stubs a toe and then the Guilt, daddy's favorite solider who's also a huge dork (like we don't see a lot of evidence of this in canon for Neteyam but let me have this), Neteyam's Untimely End vs Leo getting treated as such a punching bag by each TMNT iteration that throwing him through a goddamn window is an established franchise staple by now.

Kiri - Donnie

A case can be made for April-Kiri parallels (particularly for psychic powers re 2012 April, my beloved, and dead mom syndrome) and also Karai-Kiri (for dead mom syndrome, how often I've mixed up their fucking names while writing), but Kiri-Donnie fits the siblings theme, so there. They're tech nerd-nature nerd solidarity, autistic Entities of unparalleled death and destruction, happy to destroy government property, younger siblings pretending to be above the Chaos while very much not, and in desperate need of a nap and a stiff drink.

Lo'ak - Raph

Rage issues. Daddy issues. Big brother issues. Relatively smol and Keenly aware of that fact. Adored by the (smart) fans, cursed by Eywa/God. Makes strong bonds with animal fwends and also collects traumatic experiences like magnets collect nails. 100% either in a fistfight or sobbing into his pillow rn. In a family living at the bottom of a fucking sewer and/or on the run from the government, still manages to feel like an odd one out. Someone needs to introduce Lo'ak to emo music, it would fuck him up so much /pos.

Tuk - Mikey

Youngest and most excitable sibling, heart of gold and jaws of steel. Optimism that remains in the face of innocence slowly being shaved away by Events. Hates being left out or left behind, committed to various Schemes and Plans with historically mixed outcomes. Has definitely either killed a man or will do so as soon as the opportunity presents itself.

Spider - Karai and April

Spider's kind of an unholy amalgamation of April's Token Human We've Shared Traumatic Experiences With journey and Karai's At Odds With Creepy Undead Father Figure And Complex Relationship With Less Creepy Father Figure (see below) arcs. Basically part of my ongoing psyops plans to Feminize That Boy (don't worry Karai-Kiri and April-Kiri parallels, I still love you). Also, Leorai/Apritello and Speteyam/Spiri (mix and match at will) have exciting interspecies and/or vaguely incestous vibes we should all strive for in our weird fanfics.

Jake - Splinter/Hamato Yoshi

Tired dads trying their best and just so happening to raise The Kids as soldiers-warriors along the way. Exciting and confusing relationships with the concept of this thing you call "death." Shameless species hoppers, even though Jake did it on purpose while TMNT writers in various iterations have to come up with increasingly more convoluted ways for it to happen to Yoshi against his will. Is not afraid of violence, especially when it comes to their homoerotically homicidal relationship with

Quaritch - Shredder

Big Bad of the story, or at least the one everybody pays attention to. The Bitch Who Refuses To Die. Unhealthy, possessive, genuinely quite creepy (/pos) obsession with sort-of-kid who ended up in his care through Unfortunate Means. Will destroy everything he remotely cares about and sit in the ashes with surprised Pichaku face before finding someone to blame. Refuses to let go of a fucking grudge, be it with aforementioned homoerotic-homicide buddy or various children.

Neytiri

Technically the best Neytiri parallel in terms of family relationships would be Tang Shen, Splinter's wife and the pseudo/actual (depending on the iteration) mother of his children. However, Tang Shen has an unfortunate history of being Dead Girled and Ghost-Momed in a way that puts her more in common with Grace or Tom Sully (rip). Still, Neytiri has a lot in common with the vengeful demon ghost version of Tang Shen that exists primarily in my head.

BONUS

Payakan - Casey Jones

Outcast from society, defender of the weak, wanted by the authorities. Combines genuinely passionate belief in justice/revenge with an equally genuine talent for wanton violence and destruction. Has an interspecies bromance with Lo'ak/Raph that puts Achilles and Patrocles to shame. Someone definitely needs to introduce Payakan to emo music, too, not to mention death metal--he'd start a band to put those Little Mermaid fuckers to shame.

Questions? Comments? Concerns? Arguments? (you're all wrong btw) Only know me from one of these fandoms and have no idea what the hell I'm taking about? Hit me up in the reblogs!