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#One Year fic
noelledeltarune · 7 months
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EVERY SINGLE DAY there are MILLIONS of characters in their late 20s who get falsely accused of being father figures to teenagers when in reality the description of "weird older cousin" or "step-sibling that moved out before you were born" is 1000000x more apt
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cemeterything · 4 months
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are we still doing this because i have a late submission
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arowrath · 9 months
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rayactive-factory · 4 months
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fanart for @teamxdark!! based on the descriptions from this story, i loved the outfit designs and white-silver and black-golden colours for them so much <3
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faunandfloraas · 3 months
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Honestly I think a lot of people who have never made a gif for tumblr don't get that it does actually take time and effort, its not just rip it from a video and post it- you have to download the video, in my case I have a video player installed that grabs continuous caps, figure out what parts you need, you have to open those in photoshop or gimp, depending on where you got photoshop you might be paying for it every month and then on top of that is actually sizing, cropping, colouring, sharpening, adding text, etc. etc. like it is something that takes time and effort for which the only real reward is creating something that makes you happy and hopefully people reblog it with a nice or funny tag, so maybe keep that in mind the next time you think gif makers are being mean or unfair for being upset about reposts. It is its own little artform that is fairly unique to this website, and that's a big aspect of why I have always loved tumblr, if all the gifmakers stopped posting things would be a lot more boring around here.
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tarabyte3 · 2 months
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Hey fanfiction writers: If no one's ever told you this before, it's not just fanfiction.
It's something you spent hours, days, maybe even months on, pouring your heart out onto a page because you were so full of passion and thoughts about a story or characters, you felt like you were going to explode if you didn't get it out. Maybe you lost sleep because your mind was racing with ideas or you forgot to eat or drink water because you were so focused. Maybe your back aches from being hunched over for so long, unmoving. Maybe you even felt like you were going a little feral because you were so excited about what you were creating, or were frustrated when you got stuck. Either way, you put your heart, mind, soul, and body into making something.
It's okay to want people to read it, and it's okay if you're disappointed that they don't or it doesn't get as much of a reaction as you were hoping for. Humans are social creatures. Sure, we write for ourselves, but we also share because the joy of doing so is just as powerful as the joy of the process. Of having created something.
We all experience that joy and that disappointment, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
So it's okay. It's not just fanfiction.
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morganbritton132 · 1 month
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I want a fic where Robin is adopted.
The only parents she has ever known are her own and the only time being adopted has ever bothered her was when Amanda St. James made fun of her for it in the third grade. But Robin told her that at least her parents wanted her and were not just stuck with her like Amanda’s parents, “And maybe that’s why your Mom and Dad are so unhappy all the time.”
She got in trouble for making Amanda cry and went back to never thinking about her birthparents. She had no interest in knowing anything about them and it stayed like that until she turned sixteen.
On her sixteenth birthday, her mom gave her a letter written to her by her birthmother. Robin doesn’t read it immediately, but eventually gives in to her own curiosity. She reads it over twice before her mind snags on a sentence, ‘I wanted to give you and your brother a better life…’ … you and your brother…. You and your brother…. You and-
“I have a brother.”
This eats at Robin, especially after her dad’s call to the adoption agency goes nowhere. It eats at her so much that she finally gives in – Fred Benson swears up and down that Nancy Wheeler is the best investigator on the school paper – and asks for help.
Nancy says yes and is maybe a little too invested in finding the truth, but honestly, Robin is having fun and she wants to find her apparent twin. She wants to know about his life. Settle the whole nurture over nature thing.
They hit a lot of walls, a lot of dead ends. They break a few rules and maybe commit a felony. They enlist Jonathan Byers to help and even Eddie Munson at one point because he knows how to pick locks, and it’s all for nothing.
One day when they have everything they’ve found spread out across the Wheeler’s dining room table, Steve comes over to pick up Dustin. He looks down at the whole mess and points at her birth certificate like, “Hey, we were born on the same day.” 
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What is the primary force that guides us along our paths? Is it our minds, or our hearts?
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theemporium · 2 months
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oneshots
☞the introduction
i. dry humping
ii. fondling
iii. handjob
iv. fingering
v. phone sex
vi. [redacted]
vii. [redacted]
viii. [redacted]
ix. [redacted]
x. [redacted]
.
blurbs
n/a
.
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camembri · 2 months
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one piece had an active fanbase before I was born which is kinda crazy to me. sanji's been getting dicked down for longer than I've been alive. incredible
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abyssruler · 3 months
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aether, like countless other knights and princes across the realm seeking glory, sets off on a journey to free the princess from the locked tower and slay the fearsome dragon guarding her.
meanwhile, neuvillette is tired of all these humans trespassing into his home and attempting to steal his wife.
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ichxraaa · 4 months
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chubby reader who is discouraged cause they’ll never experience a belly bulge meets demise when their boyfriend eavesdrops their call with a friend, worried that maybe that’s something they (the boyfriend) would be into
his cock so far up bullying your cunt as you need to open your mouth to try and breathe while your eyes roll back with the pure raw strength that is fucking you against the bed, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve come, but he doesn’t care, all he cares about is the way your ass feels and looks as he thrusts into you and the perfect rhythm of the squelching lascivious sounds as he pistons inside you.
“you shouldn’t worry about stupid shit like that, i will fuck you so deep and good that you will feel me inside you for days”.
why is this toji, and bakugō and gojo in a way more condescending approach, and also porco, cause you know he’s savage, also eren cause he lacks delicacy and of course yaku cause he has no filter and no intention of letting you say something like that ever again.
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biaswreckmepls · 1 year
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A moment of silence.
This isn’t usually what I post, especially since I’m not an Aroha, but I’m moved to tears to do this. My thoughts and prayers go out to all of Moonbin’s family and friends right now. My heart is truly breaking. Sua, Sanha, Jinjin, MJ, Rocky, Eunwoo, Seungkwan, SinB, Chanwoo, his family, we’re all thinking of you. I hope everyone respects their privacy and their need to grieve, and I also hope we are all able to celebrate his beautiful life and all that he was, and all that he gave to it. Kind, gentle, incredibly talented, I can’t imagine what could’ve happened that got him to get to this point. My foundation feels shaken to its core.
Moonbin-ah, I hope you know how much you were loved, and how sorely you shall be missed. You have left a beautiful legacy behind you, and yet it was nothing compared to all you could’ve done. You remain in our hearts and our memories. You were wonderful.
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Rest In Peace.
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moonlightspencie · 1 year
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This Ain’t for the Best
Description: Mutual pining. Classic hunting scenarios. Sharing a bed. Wearing the other’s clothes. Confessions. Friends to lovers. Tswizzle title. Need I say more?
Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!Reader
Warnings: a little bit of violence, me cramming in every cliché i can because i love the classic fanfiction tropes more than i love breathing
Word Count: 5.9k
A/N: i was kicking my feet and giggling as i wrote this, especially when i snuck in criminal minds AND taylor swift references. i love writing and never beta-reading or editing what i’ve written. catharsis.
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Crashing at Bobby’s had its benefits.
First, we had the comfort of knowing where we were going to sleep at night. It was good to have a bed waiting that wasn’t in a motel room.
Second, there was almost always good food around. I had a knack for home-cooked meals, and it was much easier to be appreciated for it when I actually had a stove to cook on.
Third, there were boundless opportunities for Sam, Dean, and I to kick back and actually relax.
That’s how I ended up in the kitchen, laughing with Dean over old stories we’d told a million times before. He reached in the fridge, pulling out two bottles after we’d come down from the most recent remembrance of an old case. He cracked open the top of his beer, then my drink, sliding it towards me on the counter. Sam and Bobby strolled in st that moment, pausing when they saw us.
“You both woke up like an hour ago,” Sam said, unamused.
“6pm somewhere,” Dean and I said in unison.
We looked at each other with a small laugh, leaving Bobby and Sam rolling their eyes. I took my drink and stood a few steps away.
“We should really get going, though, Dean,” Sam stated.
“Where?” Bobby asked.
“We were planning on doing a run to the grocery story. I don’t want us to eat up all your food without repaying you, and we’re almost out of beer,” Sam said, pointedly looking at his brother.
“This one needs more of those little fruity drinks, too,” Dean teased, nodding at the bottle in my hand.
“Hey, it’s still a malt liquor. Just one that I like,” I said with a laugh.
They said their goodbyes, and I started walking into the front room. Bobby watched the door for a few moment after the boys left, then turned in the archway and locked his gaze on me as I sat on the couch.
I looked at the bottle in my hand. “I know y’all are all about beer, but I can’t help if I prefer something with a little flavor.”
“That’s not why I’m looking at you,” he grumbled, fed up with me already. “What in the world is goin’ on with you and Dean?”
“Huh?”
He furrowed his brow. “Don’t act all shy, now. You two have been flirting nonstop lately.”
“What’s new? We’re both pretty flirtatious in general.”
“Not like this,” he said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know the last time I saw that boy blushing, or you getting all flustered like a teenager.”
“I am not,” I scoffed. “Nothing’s happening, Bobby.”
“I’ve known your for five years, now, and I’ve known those boys since they were kids. You stayed in my house for a year, too. You can’t hide this kind of thing from me.”
“I’m not hiding anything. I’m an open book.”
Now, he scoffed. “Yeah, and I’m running for president.”
I rolled my eyes, taking another drink. He came closer, sitting down next to me.
“If you keep denying all this…”
I swallowed, finally resigning. “There’s nothing to do about it, Bobby.”
“Yes, there is. You could tell him.”
“It wouldn’t do any good. You know how he is, he doesn’t want to be tied down. If we don’t make any moves or promises or whatever, a lot less doesn’t get broken.”
He raised a brow. “I do know how he is. For you, he’d make an exception.”
“I don’t think so. Besides, it’s all just flirting for him. Doesn’t mean anything.”
“Are you blind?”
I looked at him, brows raising. He shook his head, picking at the label on his bottle.
“Sorry. I just— I know what I’m seeing, and I really don’t think it’s just a little friendly flirting for him, either,” he said, looking at me again. “I really think you should speak up while you’ve got the chance to. We don’t often get good things with lives like ours.”
“I know. I just don’t want to screw things up.”
“You’re gonna end up screwed if you keep pushing it down, anyway.”
I sighed. He took that signal as a time to change the subject, and for that I was thankful.
“Well, let’s find you the next case, huh?”
The next one was an easy find, and it would’ve been great to break the news to the boys when they got back, if not for a very clumsy Sam walking in the door with a twisted ankle.
“You what?” Bobby asked, incredulous.
Sam sighed, pouting. “I rolled it when I stepped in a pothole.”
Dean shook his head, clearly hiding his amusement as he helped his brother hobble towards a kitchen chair.
“So, no case, then?” I asked.
Bobby perked up. “No, you and Dean can still go. I can take care of Sam.”
“Bobby…” I warned, seeing through him instantly.
“Yeah, that’d be great,” Dean said, cutting off my death stare. “When was the last time we went on a case, just you and me?”
I looked at him.
“Seriously, you guys can go without me,” Sam said. “It might be good for you, Y/N. You seem a little restless.”
“I am not,” I defended.
Bobby chuckled. “Sure, you’re not. But I’m not suggested, I’m telling you. Get out of my house.”
I glanced at him, offended. “I am a delight.”
“You are, but I still want you out. You become much less delightful when you’re antsy.”
Dean laughed. “Come on, it’s only a state over, right? If we start driving now we can make it by sundown.”
I took a moment.
“Alright,” I nodded, heading towards the stairs to gather my things.
The case was a hot mess, to say the least. We couldn’t figure out what we were hunting to begin with, and the only true consistency is that the deaths were messy, leaving each victims with missing livers. It wasn’t until we were at the most recent site of the death that things took a little bit of a turn.
“What do you think?” Dean asked, leaning in my direction.
I shrugged, looking around the house.
“It seems… clean.”
“I mean, I guess. We haven’t found hex bags or EMF readings—”
“No,” I cut him off, gesturing around the living room. “Like physically clean. Nothing is out of place. Look at the mantle.”
I walked over, using my gloved hand to wipe along the surface. I showed him my hand.
“Clean. Not even dust.”
He raised a brow. “And that matters because…”
“Because we’re supposed to be looking for some monster-unknown that never cleans up their messes. Every other scene we’ve been to has been a wreck, so why is the only thing out of place the blood stains on the floor? This is also the first time it’s been in the victims house.”
He paused. “You’ve been watching Criminal Minds again, haven’t you?”
I rolled my eyes, taking off the glove.
“That’s not important right now,” I shook my head, standing next to him again. “And, for the record, it’s helping our case.”
“Right,” he chuckled. “Well, profiler, why don’t you tell me more about what you’re gathering from the scene.”
“Don’t patronize me,” I said with a laugh.
He smirked, placing a hand on my back.
“Let’s get out of here and figure out why things changed.”
We followed dead-end leads all over town, until we hit a lucky streak.
“Check this out,” Dean said, calling me over to the table in our room. “Remember that dive bar our last vic was seen at? Look at this dude’s last social media post.”
I walked over, resting a hand against the table as I leaned in. I looked at the laptop, raising a brow.
“Same place.”
“Same place,” he confirmed. “Wanna check it out? See if anything suspicious is up?”
“You sure you don’t just want to hit the bar?”
He looked up at me with a quirked brow.
“What do you think I am? Drinking on the job. I’d never,” he feigned innocence.
I snorted. “Right. So not you.”
“Leave in ten?”
“Sounds good to me.”
We hit the road soon after, winding up at the bar with our eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. There was plenty for us to see in a seedy town like this, but there was only one interaction that truly piqued our interested. I nodded at the man who was paying a little too much special attention to a woman, drawing Dean’s gaze in that direction. He was equally skeeved out. We kept an eye out for another hour or so before the weird activity took another step into the creep category.
We followed out the man who we caught following the woman, all the way to a neighborhood just outside the city. We made our move as soon as the man walked up to her house.
I followed Dean up to the house, and we started to slink around, waiting for any sign of trouble. I first checked through a window near the front of the house.
“Nothing,” I said, motioning for us to move further.
He took the lead, and we came up on a window that looked into the dining room. He slowly looked inside.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be freakin’ kidding me,” Dean mumbled, pulling his head back from the window.
“What?”
“Well, do you want the chance to play out your little crime show fantasies?”
I raised a brow. He sighed, shaking his head.
“That’s not— well, it is a monster in there, but not our kind of monster,” he said, tilting his head.
“It’s a human?”
He nodded. “Looks like it. Nothing supernatural that I can see. She’s passed out now, but let’s get a move on before he starts in on her.”
He started walking towards the back of the house, but I stopped him before we got to the door.
“Can— How do we do this?”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s a human. We can’t just chop his head off or exorcise him.”
“We could still stab him.”
“But should we?”
He gave me a very unamused look, waiting for me to make my point.
“Can we attempt to just— Kick his ass and leave him to deal with life in prison? Only go for the shot if it’s necessary.”
He softened. “He killed people, Y/N, does he really deserve mercy here?”
“Do you really think the prison system is mercy?” I asked, earning a slight chuckle. “I just feel weird about killing humans unless our lives are in immediate danger.”
“Okay,” he nodded. “Okay, we’ll play it your way. But if anything goes sideways—”
“Then you feel free to shoot him.”
He nodded curtly, then we continued to the door. He opened it carefully, and we stepped inside, checking our surroundings before we headed towards the woman in the dining room. We saw the man first, his back to us as he sat across the table from her.
“Playing house? Really?” Dean quipped, causing the man to whip around.
My gun was pulled before the man had a chance to stand up and react. He looked between us, obvious annoyance on his face.
“You’re not cops,” he stated.
Dean smirked. “No, we are much worse news for scumbags like you.”
“Now,” I started, “you can try and fail to fight your way out of here, or you can sit still while my partner here makes sure you’re sitting nice and pretty for when the cops do show up.”
Dean moved before he had a chance to formulate a response, dragging him out of the chair. The man tried to put up a fight, but it was pretty quickly silenced by means of a fist to the face. Dean left him on the ground after a few minutes and a roll of duct tape.
“Nice,” I commented, then put away my gun.
I moved to the woman at the table who was still passed out. I checked for a pulse, and when I was sure she was still breathing, I started undoing the binding that kept her to the chair. Dean called in an anonymous tip to the police station as I finished up clearing her of everything. She started waking right as I was about to try and move her to the couch.
“Hey, hey,” I said quietly, trying to give a little comfort before her panic set in. “You’re safe now, alright? You’re fine.”
Her eyes opened, and she immediately clung to me when she saw the man on the ground incapacitated.
“What happened?” she asked with a quivering voice.
“Me and my friend Dean saw this guy creeping around your house. We wanted to make sure everything was okay, and when we found out it wasn’t, we found a way in. The cops are on the way now.”
She nodded. “Thank you. Both of you.”
I glanced back at Dean with the ghost of a smile on my face. He raised his brows at me.
“Why don’t we get you to the couch?”
“You’re not staying?” she asked, still in shock.
“No, we gotta leave,” I said, helping her to the couch. “We’ll stick around for a few minutes outside till the cops get here, though.”
“Okay,” she nodded along absentmindedly as she laid on the couch.
I walked back to Dean, motioning for us to go outside. He looked back down at the man for a moment who was still passed out, then followed behind me. We got back to the Impala and waited.
“Weird to be thanked,” I said, watching the house.
He hummed. “Doesn’t happen often, that’s for sure.”
“I can’t believe we were accidentally hunting a serial killer.”
He snorted. “I’m surprised there’s not more crossover when we hunt.”
I hummed in agreement. “I also wonder why things changed so much. From the murders messy and public to being more confined in the homes.”
“Who knows,” he said, shaking his head. “Monsters make a hell of a lot more sense than people do.”
“You got that right.”
Soon enough we saw flashing lights coming down the street. We watched some officers step out of the first car, and a few more get out of an SUV.
“Is that FBI?” Dean asked, looking intently.
“I mean, we just found them a serial killer. They’ve probably been on high alert,” I said.
He nodded, and we watched for another moment as they prepared to go inside.
“Man, those vests are cool as hell in real life, too,” I commented.
“Alright, that’s enough,” he wrapped up the conversation with a laugh.
He pulled off the sidewalk at that, and started driving in the opposite direction of the cops. We decided to stay the night at the motel, neither of us awake enough to get back to Sam and Bobby. He pulled into the parking lot, and we trudged inside.
“At least we aren’t covered in monster guts this time,” I said as I fell onto the mattress.
“Right?” He chuckled. “Cool if I take the first shower?”
“Of course. I’ll be here.”
He shut the door of the bathroom, and I let out a sigh. All of the teamwork bull crap we’d been doing certainly didn’t help my case, but I could at least be thankful he didn’t want to go the bars and find a hookup. I threw my arms over my eyes and sighed.
“Hey,” I heard Dean’s voice call out, his hand on my knee.
I uncovered my eyes. “Sorry. Must’ve dozed off.”
He smiled. “Go take a shower.”
“You sayin’ I need one?” I asked with a quirked brow.
“Yeah. You’re a mess,” he replied, a playful glint in his eye. “I don’t know how I sat in a car with you all day, to be honest.”
I scoffed, getting up. He moved enough for me to get by, but didn’t let me get far before he started talking again.
“Movie tonight?” he asked.
I rustled through my bag, pulling out my pajama shorts.
“Sure.”
“Any requests?”
“Uh,” I started, still looking for a clean top. “Maybe a comedy. We could use something funny.”
“Good point.” He stared for a moment as I kept digging. “You missing something?”
“I can’t find my t-shirt. I thought I packed three in here.”
“Do you want one of mine?”
I paused, considering the offer. One one hand, I wouldn’t have to wear a cami to bed and risk accidentally flashing him in my sleep. One the other, I’d be wearing his shirt and that would be a sure way to get me in my own head. The risks of the first definitely outweighed my lack of self control.
“That would be awesome.”
He walked to his own bag, pulling out a shirt that matched the one he wore and handing it to me.
“I still think wearing our outside clothes to bed worked just fine.”
“Did you ever feel rested doing that?” I asked.
He sighed dramatically. I laughed.
“Exactly my point,” I said. “Most of your well-being has to do with mindset, Dean.”
He grumbled to himself as he settled into bed, and I took that as my chance to get in the bathroom. My shower was quick, especially since Dean used up most of the hot water. I knew I should’ve gone first, but it forced me not to stay in forever. I pulled on his shirt and my shorts, trying not to let myself smile when I saw myself in the mirror wearing his clothes. I walked back into the room before I allowed myself to think too hard.
He looked at me as I walked out, a smile creeping on his face. I fought back my own to raise a brow as I lingered at the foot of my bed.
“What?”
He shrugged. “Funny seeing you in my shirt.”
“Looks better on me than it ever did on you,” I sassed with a smirk, crawling into bed.
“Can’t argue with that,” he noted, still watching me. He cleared his throat a moment later, looking at the TV screen. “Uh, I found something, I think. They had Step Brothers on demand.”
“Oh, perfect,” I said as he clicked play.
We settled into a comfortable silence for a while, and I cuddled into the duvet. After we were halfway through the movie, I gathered the blankets around me even more.
“Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?” I asked, looking over to see Dean still sitting above the covers.
“It’s a little cold,” he shrugged, then looked at me. “I can check the heater.”
I nodded as he got up and crossed the room. He held a hand out, a puzzled look on his face after a moment. He smacked it with his hand, and still felt nothing.
“Hm. Hang on,” he said, moving to the phone. “Hi, I think the heater in here’s broken.”
A pause.
“Ah, great. Okay, thanks.”
He hung up the phone, looking to me apologetically.
“They said the heating’s down in the whole place.”
I sighed. “That sucks.”
He sat back in his bed, looking at me for a moment before he spoke again.
“I know it’s been a while since we had to, but do you wanna come sleep in my bed tonight? I run hot, it might keep you warm.”
“I know. I had to sleep next to you in the summer, and it was like roasting in an oven,” I chuckled.
“See? It’ll work perfect when you’re cold,” he said, standing again.
He pulled the covers back, getting underneath and patting the mattress next to him. I cursed myself for finding this case in the first place.
“Just don’t complain if I kick you in my sleep,” I said, getting out of my bed.
He chuckled. “I’m not worried about it.”
I got into his bed, and he threw the covers over me. He then reached over top of me to grab the remote, pressing play and slinging an arm around my shoulders. I pulled the duvet up to my chin, leaning into his side.
This position put me in a delicate spot, and I found that to be true more and more with every passing minute. Every time he laughed, I felt it reverberate in his chest. Every time he talked to me, I’d look up to see his face inches from mine. Every time he moved, he held me a little tighter.
In short, Bobby was all too correct about me being screwed.
“Hey,” Dean said, voice soft. “You okay?”
“Mm?”
I looked at him, once again trying not to think about the proximity.
“You always laugh at this scene. You didn’t make a sound this time.”
“Oh,” I chuckled, looking towards the screen. “Sorry, I must be exhausted.”
“Is that all? Seems like there’s something on your mind.”
“Alright, Dr. Phil,” I joked.
“Seriously,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I think I just need some sleep,” I replied, glancing at him again with half a smile.
He quirked a brow, clearly not believing me, but willing to drop the subject.
“Okay. You know you can always talk to me?”
“I know.”
He smiled softly, then looked back at the TV as he shut it off. He settled into bed, still holding onto me. I snuggled into his side, using his chest as a pillow. I felt him breathe deep before he shut off the light.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Night, Dean.”
I woke up the next morning before he did, and decided there was little harm in remaining there. I shut my eyes, letting myself enjoy the fact that I was still snuggled against him. It gave me a moment to pretend he was mine, at least for the morning. I listened to his breathing, and wondered if he ever dreamt about me in the same way I did about him. As if on cue, his arm tightened around me a little as he stirred. His thumb brushed against my shoulder where his hand had snuck under the sleeve of the t-shirt, though I couldn’t tell if he was really awake until I felt a soft kiss against the top of my head.
At that moment, I decided it was probably best to continue pretending I was still asleep.
He stayed that way for a little while, his hand still against my shoulder, making little patterns with his thumb. It took everything in me not to move when I felt him brush a few stray pieces of hair away from my face, and even more when he let his hand linger against my cheek for when felt like a few seconds too long to be purely friendly.
I wondered if he was always like this when I wasn’t awake. Extra attentive, and sure not to wake me. Maybe that’s why I somehow remained asleep every time I fell asleep in the car that normally jostled me around like a rag doll with his driving. I wondered even more if Bobby was right about something else he’d said days ago: the unrequited feelings might not be so unrequited after all.
I nestled my head against his chest, trying to give him a warning that I was about to open my eyes, and he quickly pulled his hand away from my face. I took in a breath, blinking slowly as I let the light seep in for the second time that morning.
“Morning,” he greeted quietly, his voice still soft and raspy from tiredness.
I smiled. “Morning.”
“You hungry?” he asked, drawing my attention to him.
I nodded, leaning back a little to see him better.
“Very, and I saw a café on the way into town that looked good,” I said.
He smiled softly, shutting his eyes for a moment. Then, he yawned, finally sitting up. He turned and looked at me as I stayed laying.
“How’d you sleep? Warm enough?”
“Thanks to you, yeah,” I replied, stretching. “I’m scared to get out of bed, now, though.”
He patted my leg over the covers, “If you want food, that should be motivation enough.”
“Good point.”
I reluctantly climbed out of bed as he walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day. It was cold, but not unbearable. I decided to throw on some clothes in the room since he always took a while in the bathroom. By the time he was finished, all I needed to do was wash my face and brush my teeth, then we were off.
Breakfast was short and sweet, and we made it back to Bobby’s in record time. We strolled in the door, seeing Sam gimping around the kitchen as soon as we walked in.
“Still letting that ankle beat your ass?” I asked immediately.
He laughed. “Trust me, if I had any control over it, this wouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”
“Maybe you just wanted out of the hunt,” I said in reply.
“Oh yeah, I loved hanging out and making Bobby bring me ice packs all day. Dream vacation, actually.”
Dean shook his head with a smirk. “You didn’t miss out on much anyway.”
“How’d it go?” Sam asked as he took a seat.
I looked to Dean who was already glancing in my direction. I shrugged.
“We stopped a serial killer, actually,” I noted.
Sam gaped. “And I ‘didn’t miss much’?”
“Just knocked him out and called the cops. Not much fun, anyways,” Dean shrugged. “Oh, we did find maybe the best pancakes I’ve ever had, though.”
I hummed in agreement enthusiastically, nodding.
“They were freaking incredible,” I said, then looked back at Sam. “And they had like, real, fresh maple syrup.”
“Unlimited stacks when you bought the platter, too,” Dean chimed in with a gleeful smile.
“You two sound like an old married couple,” Sam scoffed out with a laugh. “What, did you fall asleep together after reading the newspaper, too?”
“After watching a movie, actually,” Dean corrected, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Then, he looked at me. “Did you want anything?”
“I’m okay.”
Sam looked between us, a raised brow and an amused look on his face.
“You two actually fell asleep together?”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s what you choose to focus on?”
He smiled mischievously, then looked at Dean.
“Making moves on her, now?”
Dean swallowed, glaring at his brother with wide eyes. I furrowed my brow, about to see if I could prod Sam for information, but Bobby walked in before I had the chance.
“Hey, you two. How was the hunt?”
Dean let out a breath. “Not real eventful. I could use some sleep.”
He started walking out of the room, all of us watching as he left. Bobby turned to me first, a questioning look on his face.
“Don’t look at me,” I said with my hands up in defense. “I think Sammy pissed him off.”
“Real smooth, Sam,” Bobby commented.
Sam scoffed, shaking his head. Bobby merely sighed, going to take a seat across from Sam. I looked at them both, hands on my hips.
“Why do I get the feeling you two know something I don’t?”
“Did Dean not talk to you?” Sam asked, looking at me.
“We talk plenty.”
“That’s not what I mean. He said he was gonna talk to you when the next case was over,” he stopped, then looked at Bobby. “Case came and went, and still nothing.”
Bobby shrugged. “Out of our hands, Sam. Told you not to meddle.”
I sighed in annoyance. “You two are children, you know that?”
“Hey,” Bobby said, offended.
“I’m gonna take a walk,” I said finally, turning for the door.
The second I was halfway out, they started talking again, but I couldn’t bring myself to care too much about what they said. Clearing my mind sounded like the best option, and I was determined to do it.
I started walking around the yard, music blaring from my phone to keep me preoccupied as I watched the sky light up with a million different colors. I found an old car with a relatively clean exterior and decided to climb onto the hood. I leaned back, watching the sky as it turned darker, the stars slowly peaking out.
“Room for one more?” Dean’s voice asked from behind me.
“Come on up,” I said, scooting over a bit.
He came and sat next to me, looking up at the sky. He let out a slow breath, then looked at me.
“Taylor Swift?”
“You know it,” I replied.
He smiled, turning his head back.
“Stars are coming out,” he commented.
“They are. You should’ve seen sunset, it was gorgeous.”
He scooted closer, leaning his head against mine silently. After a moment, I let myself lean against his shoulder a little more.
“You okay, Dean?” I asked after a beat.
“Of course. Why?”
“I dunno. You just seemed a little off when we got back today.”
He sighed. “Yeah. It’s— It’s nothing.”
“You sound like me, now.”
He chuckled. “Guess we’ve got the same bad habit, huh?”
“Yeah, guess so.”
We stayed there until it got dark enough to really see the stars come out, not moving even when the chill of the night started creeping in. I readjusted my head against his shoulder, preparing myself to speak again.
“Did you really follow me out here just to look at stars?”
I felt him still. Then, after a moment, I sat up a little straighter and looked at him. He glanced back at me, clearly feeling caught out.
“Thought you could use some company.”
I raised a brow, and he smirked, looking away.
“Alright, you got me,” he said, “What gave it away?”
“First off, I’ve known you for years,” I started, nudging him in the arm. “Second, Sam and Bobby were all uppity about the fact that you apparently told Sam you had something to talk to me about.”
“I swear, he can’t keep a secret to save his life when it comes to stuff like this,” he said, rubbing at his face.
“Well, try me,” I said, unable to keep my eyes off of him. He was extra cute all flustered. “I’m a good listener.”
He let out a breath, then looked at me, scanning my face for a moment.
“I know I’ve got a certain type of reputation—”
“You?! No way,” I exclaimed with a smile, my eyes wide.
He laughed. “Exactly my point.”
“You know I don’t care about that, though. Reputations are a one-sided story.”
He hummed. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
He sighed, looking back at the sky for a moment.
“I just,” he started, giving a shrug, “I feel like it— Like it makes people feel like I never want anything but a hookup, you know?”
“It makes people feel that way?”
“I’m that easy to read, huh?” he asked, looking at me again with a faint smile. “You. I mean you.”
“I gathered that much.”
He laughed softly, as did I.
“How’d you know?”
“I had suspicions fueled by Bobby. Then you kissed me and started being all affectionate when you thought I was asleep this morning.”
His eyes widened. “You were pretending to be asleep? That’s so not fair!”
“Hey, I woke up snuggled into my own personal space heater, I didn’t exactly want to be up and at ‘em.”
He rolled his eyes, tugging me into his side with an arm around my shoulders once more.
“How long has it been for you?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t even know. I guess I started realizing it a year or so ago.”
“That’s embarrassing for me, then. I knew the second I met you,” he said with a laugh.
“Dean,” I said with surprise. “It’s been half a decade! No wonder Bobby got on my ass about it before we left.”
“Well, hey, Sammy’s been on mine for a couple years. You got off easy up till now.”
I laughed. “I guess so. To be fair, we were flying under the radar for quite a while, though. The incessant flirting the past few weeks is what got us in trouble.”
“Why did you start being extra flirty, anyway?” he asked, resting his cheek against the top of my head.
“I don’t know. I guess I was, like, subconsciously seeing a window. You haven’t been doing your normal bar hookups the past few months, so I thought maybe there was a reason for it,” I paused. “Though, finding out you’ve been crushing on me for five years kind of makes me question that.”
He snorted out a laugh. “Easier to keep my mind off you that way. That sounds terrible. I just— I never thought in a million years you’d think anything of me.”
“Well, when did you realize I might?”
He sighed. “You remember a couple weeks back when we were taking down that vamp nest? You easily could’ve died, and we hugged afterwards, but when I pulled back I… I saw that look in your eyes that seemed an awful lot like how I look at you when you’re not paying attention. I wanted to kiss you, and I didn’t doubt in that moment that you would’ve let me if I had.”
I paused. “Why didn’t you?”
“I was scared. We’ve been friends for so long, and we practically do everything together. I didn’t want to ruin anything on the off chance that I was reading those signs all wrong.”
“You weren’t.”
He fell quiet for a moment. I looked up at him, and he looked back at me as I did. He quickly wet his lips, drawing my gaze downward before my eyes flicked back up to his. His lips parted momentarily. Then…
“We should get back inside. It’s getting cold out here,” he said quickly.
I nodded curtly, pulling away to let him get off the hood first. He gave me a hand, helping me down next. We walked back to the house quietly, saying soft goodnights before we went to separate rooms.
I was all settled in for the night, cozy in my bed with a book in hand. Then, I heard a knock on the door. I grumbled as I got up, annoyed that I had to leave the comfort of a mattress that wasn’t a sure cesspool of germs I didn’t want to think about. I flung the door open.
“Someone better be dying or I’m gonna kick some ass for—”
Dean’s lips crashed into mine, effectively silencing me from my rant. I melted after a few seconds of mental delay, my hands gripping onto the material of his shirt as his cradled my face. I felt him smile into the kiss, drawing my closer with arms that snuck around my waist, holding me tight. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss once he was sure that the signs were all giving him a positive response.
We finally broke apart a few minutes later, breathing heavy with pounding hearts.
“I figured I should stop letting opportunities pass me up,” he said with a nervous chuckle.
I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, good thinking.”
His eyes scanned over me, his chest still heaving.
“You wouldn’t happen to need another space heater for the night, would you?”
“I run cold, what can I say?” I replied with a smirk, and a spark in my eye.
He smiled, walking me into the room with his lips on mine, kicking the door shut behind him.
(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)
FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE
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psqqa · 7 months
Text
yes, yes i know edgeworth’s big wet eyes and loser boy personality have captivated us all, but listen. listen.
phoenix wright
phoenix “genuinely unable to reconcile the girl on the stand with the girl he dated for eight months, a cognitive dissonance so profound it’s ultimately explained by them being literally two different people, but which he first sits with for five years and does not talk about at any point to anyone” wright
phoenix “don’t mention that name to me. i don’t want to talk about it. i don’t want to think about it. i am just going to keep myself in this state of perpetual crisis mode focus on other people’s problems until eventually i die and get to hang out with mia on the astral plane and never have to deal with any of these emotions ever again” wright
phoenix “overnight loses his career and reputation and sense of identity while gaining an adopted, probably pretty traumatized eight-year-old daughter, and rather than leaning on his friends for help, or getting therapy, or taking any time to process any of this, he *checks notes* spends seven years dedicating all his free time and energy to investigating the weird fucking circumstances around it and maintains a friendship with the guy he suspects was behind it all” wright
phoenix "runs across a burning bridge and falls through it, half a day after the game establishes that he is terrified of heights, because his friend is on the other side of that bridge" wright
phoenix “i sure felt surprised. maybe i had my poker face on” wright
phoenix “looking back on it that was actually a pretty dark period in my life” wright
phoenix “don’t ask me how i got started. i don’t remember” wright
phoenix “only you stood still, your eyes calmly watching” wright
phoenix “sometimes, life just sucks” wright
just
phoenix wright
crunchiest man in the world
and all i wanna do is chew and chew and chew on him
#ace attorney#where are all the people gnawing on phoenix's bones so white??#i need to find the phoenix bone-gnawing corner of this fandom PLEASE#this is me asking for the Phoenix Fic btw#where is the fic meditating on phoenix's whole mental state in general?#where is the fic about how it's phoenix's cageyness and poker face and flat affect under stress that is the hurdle?#the relationship ramifications of being actually really fucking hard to read when it comes down to it?#where is the fic about the week of his disbarment?#the one detailing the panicked blow by blow of it rippling through his social circle while he stands in the eye of the storm?#the one that ends messy and anxious and unresolved because it's week 1 of 7 years?#where is the birth of phoenix wright: poker legend fic?#where is the art school/theatre major phoenix fic?#no not the able to art/act phoenix fic but the kind of person who chooses to go to art school/study theatre phoenix fic#where is the supremely disinterested in pop culture phoenix fic?#where is the actually incredibly meticulous and competent phoenix fic?#capcom can tell me all they want that he's essentially an adhd disaster flying by the seat of his pants making it all up as he goes#but that's not what they're actually showing me#they're the ones who created an in-fiction legal system that functionally necessitates that#and the nature of the game is that phoenix is almost always proven right so rather than him coming off as hare-brained#his opponents rather just come off as short-sighted. either negligently or maliciously so#and the choices the writing makes in service of retaining mystery and audience suspense in fact function to make phoenix a person#who is astute and puts the pieces together but is cautious in his conclusions#i will grant them that phoenix does tend to lose sight of his overarching goal in getting drawn into proving or disproving minor points#the fact that edgeworth on the other hand never loses sight of this or where the various arguments stand in relation to it#is his sexiest trait as a character by far#but those minor points are actually functionally critical to the ultimate argument phoenix makes#so even though i do read that trait through the game mechanics i do also judge the other characters for being dicks about it#my point is phoenix wright does in fact have the character of a lawyer and is conventionally good at his job fucking fight me#my point is that you all have had 20 goddamn years to Rotate this man#my POINT is that there should be Intricate Fucked Up Meditations On Phoenix that rewire my fucking brain and i NEED to know where they are!
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the-witchhunter · 1 year
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DP x DC: Clown Car
Based off THIS
Danny, having gotten really into circus and clown history, culture, and craft, has decided to mess with the Joker. Not just because he’s a villain, but because he’s a shitty clown. And Danny is willing to out clown him to prove his point.
The Clown Car incident
No one knew what to expect when a small car drove up to the Joker in the middle of his dramatic villainous speech. By the look on the Joker’s face, he didn’t know what to expect either. 
The mysterious clown had been harassing him for a few weeks now. A foiled heist here, a botched plan there. So it wasn’t entirely unexpected for the clown to climb out of the car. What was unexpected was when another clown came out of the car talking to goofing with the first. Then another, and another. Soon a flood of clowns came pouring out, all in different costumes and slightly different shapes but with the same makeup. Some even had “construction” equipment, large rubber mallets, a wooden board carried between two, a bucket of whitewash. One after the other they came, until the Joker was lost amongst a sea of clowns, shouting and fuming, trying to be heard over the honking and shenanigans. 
Joker was pissed, but kept getting caught up in the various bits the clowns engaged in. He got wacked with the board, and managed to get flipped over it, the bucket of whitewash landed on his head. He kept getting tripped and moved about as if he was simply a part of the act. 
In the crowd, Tim Drake recorded the whole thing. A few minutes after it had started, the clowns had packed up and left in their tiny car with a disoriented and confused Joker facing Batman.
Tim sent the video to Dick and Jason, and the mystery clown gained two new fans that day
or
Danny used intangibility and duplication to pull of the clown car solo after spending two weeks making enough unique costumes for each duplicate. 
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