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frankenkyle19 · 5 months

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I Bet I Could Scare You

Word count: 3k

Tate Langdon x reader smut

description/warnings: smut with little plot, fingering (barely), handjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, Emotional Tate because he’s a psycho 24/7 and I think that’s it. This is based off a recent dream I had. Oh also barely proofread so there’s probably (definitely) mistakes.

You had a long time fascination with the infamous Murder House. You couldn’t help it! Curious beyond belief about what the walls held inside, you had been planning ways to get into it for weeks now. It was currently sitting abandoned, a few window panes broken and Ivy beginning to grow over the bricks, trailing across it in waves of green. It looked absolutely beautiful, an aura of mystery and danger seemed to surround the place, but it just intrigued you more. What was that saying? Oh right. Curiosity killed the cat.

Curious by nature, you couldn’t just not explore the house, having started with scoping out the perimeter, looking out for other people as you adventured around the side, finding your way into the backyard and exploring further. There was a beautiful gazebo set up in the backyard but as pretty as it was, the second you approached it, you felt an unexplainable sorrow, something that burrowed deep into your bones and left an ache in your chest.

When you finally built up the nerve, you went inside. Stepping over the threshold of the door, a chill settled against you as you wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to warm.

That day you didn’t stay long, not even venturing upstairs to see what was hidden up there. You also didn’t go into the basement either. You left after only looking around on the ground floor, hearing what sounded like a whistle down the hall and practically running back out the door, not looking back.

That was until curiosity got the better of you. You found yourself standing in the doorway once more before stepping inside, hands clenched tightly at your sides.

Today was the day you’d finally explore the rest of the house. Deciding that upstairs was probably less creepy of a start than the basement, you made your way up the stairs that creaked with each step. You winced at each minute sound, practically holding your breath as you finally reached the top steps.

You wiped the cold sweat that had formed on your brow before continuing. Each door was thankfully open so you could see inside without having to open them individually. This was a beautiful house, and from the looks of it, the previous owners had just… abandoned everything and left. Weird, but you’d have to question that later. Maybe they died here? The question lingered in the back of your mind but you didn’t focus on it for too long when you heard shifting and what sounded like footsteps downstairs.

Had someone followed you in?

Swallowing hard, you peeked down the staircase, seeing what appeared to be just the outline of a man. He didn’t appear threatening, but of course you had no real clue. He seemed to be dressed in an oversized sweater and ripped jeans. He had dirty blond hair and honestly seemed to be around your age. Was he some dumb boy who had seen you wander in here and decided to follow you to either scare you or… perhaps do something worse?

Against your better judgment you began to creep down the large staircase, following the man just out of sight. You felt a need to keep your eyes on him. Like he’d disappear if you so much as blinked. The longer you followed him around the abandoned house, the more you realized that this was quite literally the dumbest thing you’d ever done. How everyone died in horror movies. Jesus, how stupid could you be?

Finally, you saw him walk to the entrance of the basement and go down the steps. That was it. You were not going down there. You made your way to the top of the stairs and looked down into unending darkness, trying to squint your eyes to see into it with no luck. You turned around to finally get out of there when you crashed into the chest of someone. A man. The man you’d been following for the past ten minutes.

His chocolatey brown eyes met yours with a softness you hadn’t expected from them. No matter, you let out a shrill scream, backing up away from the boy before nearly falling down the basement steps. In fact you would have fallen down them and probably broken your neck if he hadn’t reached out a hand to catch you. His hand was cold to the touch as it wrapped around your wrist and you noticed just how pale he was in comparison. A ghostly white..

He used his free hand that wasn’t gripping your wrist to cover your mouth to stop the scream that bubbled up from your throat. The noise died in your throat as you looked at him with a mix of shock and absolute fear. There was literally no one else here, this man could easily kill you if he wanted to.

You blinked a few times, trying to steady your breathing as he carefully tugged you away from the stairs to safety before letting go of you all together, giving you space.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, tone accusatory as he furrowed his brows in a gentle manner.

“I could ask you the same thing-“ You replied, raising a brow as a frown settled on your features.

The boy opened his mouth to speak before pausing. Telling you wouldn’t prove to be easy, and you may even laugh at him in disbelief.

“I live around here-“ He lied. Well… was it really a lie if he had lived here? In this very house? Years ago..

“My name’s Tate.” He continued, looking at you expectantly as if this was some sort of normal, everyday interaction.

You told him your name, against better judgment, feeling drawn to him in an odd, messed up way. There was a sort of darkness in him. One similar to what lived inside of you.

“Pretty.” He said offhandedly, seeming completely unbothered by the whole entire situation. What a strange being he was..

You shrugged at his comment, rolling your eyes a bit. If he was trying to flirt with you, it definitely wasn’t going to work. You didn’t get the hots for random people that followed you into an abandoned house… Despite how.. Cute they might be.

Part of you questioned how exactly Tate appeared behind you so fast despite having seen him just walk down the steps in front of you. It sat in the back of your brain and you knew something about it all wasn’t right. The only problem was Tate was so charming you didn’t want to believe anything was wrong. You just wanted to stay blissfully oblivious for as long as possible.

And that’s exactly what you did. Over the coming weeks you and Tate grew closer, much to your surprise, and despite having a suspicion that he wasn’t exactly who he said he was, you decided to ignore it for now and just enjoy having him around.

You knew something was up when he said he could only meet in the house. Not around the neighborhood or anywhere else. You knew then… You knew it but you didn’t want to face the fact that maybe the person you were talking to wasn’t exactly… Alive.

It was a hard concept to grasp at first, I mean.. One of your only friends just so happened to be a ghost? How does one just go about their life after learning that kind of information? You’d always believed in ghosts but you never knew they could be so… real. So apparent and able to communicate with you..

Today when you walked into the murder house, something was different. It was as if the spirits that resided there now knew what you had discovered about them, and they didn’t seem too happy about it.

Suspiciously you couldn’t find Tate. He wasn’t in the living room or kitchen like usual when the two of you would meet up and some searching around the house left you empty handed. It was as if he disappeared.

With your only other option being the basement you made your way to the steps, swallowing back your anxiety as you tried to control your breathing. You stared down into the nothingness once more and just contemplated on if you should walk out of the house and never come back, knowing he wouldn’t be able to follow.

You took a step towards the first stair when you paused, feeling a presence behind you. Without turning around you knew exactly who it was.

You felt breathing against your neck and a cold hand brush against your own. He didn’t say anything, just stayed like that, waiting for you to speak.

“T-Tate?” You whispered, shivering at the feeling of him breathing down your neck. You were a bit uncomfortable but only because he was acting so different from his usual self.

“You know.” Was all he said, tone almost sounding hurt as he pulled away just a bit to cut all contact with your body.

Whipping around, you made eye contact with the boy, his own eyes dark and filled with a sort of sadness that you didn’t quite understand. A longing and a disappointment.

Your stomach dropped at his words. You know. About him being a ghost? Well, that was true. But how did he know? Had you been that obvious?

You nodded slowly, never once breaking contact with his eyes, yours staring into his soul. “Mhm, I do.. I-“ You were at a loss for words, what exactly was there to say because you were completely stumped.

“How?” Tate asked. You didn’t like how he used very few words, compared to his talkative self that could never seem to shut up. This Tate was different, darker.

“I figured it out- it wasn’t- that hard.” You said, fidgeting with your hands nervously

“You’re always so cold, you won’t meet me anywhere besides this house? The way you appeared behind me at the top of the stairs that first day I met you? I put it all together, Tate.”

Tate nodded, contemplating what to say.

“You’re smarter than I thought.”

You weren’t sure if you should take that as a compliment or an insult, because it sure sounded like the latter.

“Thanks,” you replied, snarky. Your breathing had luckily calmed but the second he took a step forward it sped up again.

“Are you scared of me?”

“No.”

“I bet I could scare you.” He took another step towards you.

What exactly did he mean by that?

You stood your ground as he towered over you, bodies almost flush against each other as you slowly looked up and met his eyes once more.

He leaned down and captured your lips with his, kissing you softly. Despite the ghostly chill that rolled off of him, his lips were surprisingly warm and soft against your own and you found yourself closing your eyes and kissing back.

Tate deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around you as he gently ran his thumb down the small of your back, reveling in the way you arched away from the feeling closer to his chest.

“I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you.” Tate whispered, leaning down and peppering kisses against your neck

A quiet moan slipped past your lips as you felt him gently grind his hips against you, the beginnings of a hard on definitely felt even through all your layers of clothing.

You cursed under your breath as you pulled Tate up for another kiss, nipping at his bottom lip which caused him to whine softly. Were you really going to do this? Sleep with a ghost? The answer was hell yes.

You two tugged at each other's clothes as the kisses intensified tenfold, each trying to pull the other to the couch.

You pushed Tate back against the couch before climbing onto his lap, kissing him eagerly as your hands roamed his clothed chest.

Tate’s hands wrapped around to grip at your ass, pulling you closer to him as he arched up into you, rubbing his clothed erection against your already soaked pants.

He managed to get your shirt up and off of you before working on your bra, and much to your surprise he actually managed to get it off with little struggle. Hm. So not his first time, okay. You’d keep that in mind.

You then struggled to get his shirt up and off him before tossing it onto the floor, hands coming to run across his now bare chest, reveling in the way his muscles moved against your hands.

Tate flipped the two of you over, getting on top of you and beginning to shimmy your pants down your legs and off your body, eyes widening at the wet spot in your panties.

“Are you a virgin?” He asked, panting as he fumbled with his belt before pulling it off and managing to get his jeans halfway down his thighs.

You furrowed your brows a bit. What an odd question..?

“Uh- no? Are you?” You decided to ask, but from the way he acted you presumed he wasn’t.

And just like you had expected Tate shook his head no, pulling you closer as he ripped your panties off in one harsh tug.

The fabric ripped from your skin hard, leaving a mark but you were too desperate to even worry about it at the moment.

“No I’m not you’re just- so wet-“ He panted, using his middle and first finger to part your folds, reveling in the way your slick coated his fingers.

“Well of course I am-“ you chuckled. Was he not familiar with how the female body worked? Maybe not.

You moaned softly as he thrust one finger into you, your home greedily sucking him in, to the knuckle and when he curled his finger upwards just the slightest bit, you were arching into the touch, desperate pleas leaving your lips for more. More more more.

Tate chuckled, shaking his head “patience.” Yeah okay, screw that.

You pulled him down for another kiss as you dragged his boxers off of him, taking him into your hand and slowly stroking him to full hardness.

A quiet whine slipped from his lips as he pulled away just enough from your lips to make eye contact with you, urging his hips forward until his tip slid across your entrance, collecting some of your slick.

“Patience, remember?” You teased, brow raised as you chuckled softly, helping to guide him to your entrance before he pushed into you.

The slight pain from him stretching you out was a welcomed feeling which soon faded and turned into pleasure. He filled you up perfectly and you were able to feel each and every ride and bump of his cock.

Tate gripped onto your shoulders as he gave an experimental thrust, looking you over to make sure you weren’t in any pain.

“N-not hurting you, am I?” He asked, swallowing hard as he looked between the two of you, watching as your hole greedily swallowed his cock.

You gently cupped his cheek, pulling him down closer to you. You felt his hot breath against your cheek as he leaned into your palm.

“No, Tate. Feels so good- you feel so fucking good inside me, baby.” You groaned out and this seemed to trigger something inside of him because he steadied himself once more before pulling almost all the way out and slamming himself back in, balls slapping against your skin as he hit a spot inside you that made you seize up.

He seemed to like this reaction out of you because he did it again and again and again. Each time the air was knocked out of your lungs and you kept making pathetic little whines as he fucked you.

“‘Mine,” He growled as he thrust into you “All mine.” His tone was harsh but also a sense of desperation was hidden inside it as well.

Your bodies rocked against each other, the air around you thick with the scent of sex and surely the other ghosts were not very happy with the two of you, but you couldn’t care less right now, you just knew you never wanted Tate to stop fucking you.

You clutched onto his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin, leaving marks that would soon disappear thanks to him being a ghost. Much to your dismay though. You’d love to see him all marked up.

Tate’s thrusts became uneven quite quickly as his body trembled, his eyes giving you a look that said more than any words could. He was close.

You reached down and circled your clit with your fingers, arching up and pushing his cock deeper inside you, practically hitting your service and a twinge of pain spiked through you, a shock to your senses but it also seemed to intensify the pleasure tenfold.

“Fuck- Tate I’m close-“ You groaned out, your hips rocking against each others as he pounded into you, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he cried out, biting down onto your shoulder to conceal his grunts and groans.

You felt warmth burst inside you and by the way Tate froze, bucking weakly a few more times before nearly collapsing on you, you knew he had come. The feeling of his warmth filling you and how he replaced your fingers with his own, circling your clit roughly, you came, squeezing around him and milking him for all he had.

Tate gasped, wincing a bit at the over sensitivity that took hold of him in mere seconds after his release.

He pulled out of you and he panted before collapsing next to you on the couch, chest rising and falling heavily.

You pulled him into your arms, peppering kisses across his face as the two of you came down from your high.

A quiet chuckle bubbled up your throat until you could contain it no longer and begin to laugh almost hysterically, causing Tate to look at you, concerned.

“What? What’s so funny?” He asked. Surely you weren’t laughing at him?

“I just-“ You tried to say through your fits of laughter.

“I just had sex with a ghost.” You laughed, wiping the tears that had formed in your eyes.

Tate gave you a blank stare before nodding.

“Yup. Yeah you sure did.”

#evan peters #evan peters icons #american horror story #ahs fandom #tate langdon #tate langdon headcanon #tate langdon x reader #tate ahs #tate langdon smut #american horror murder house #murder house #ahs murder house

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cvpitvno · 1 year

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perhaps it was because you knew you were being monitored — as a new addition to task force 141, you, the rookie, we’re still in your early development stages with the group.

you were skilled — you wouldn’t be there if you weren’t — but they needed to know how you operated, how you communicated, and how well you kept your head on your shoulders during missions.

the group had run through countless simulations, running through different positions and advance tactics — forced you upfront, and kept you behind, any position you could be in and they had stuck you in to see where exactly you die amongst them.

however, when the tides had turned and it was time for you to focus on your strengths — large rifle resting on the small lip of cement on the roof and sights lined up to your point of objective — you were left on your own, captain, lieutenant, and sergeants watching from a small room with cameras watching your every move.

it had been some time since you had met the guys — long enough to have at least grown comfortable in teasing them back, so you realized you had the perfect chance to make someone, maybe even more then that, flushed.

you shuffled out of your laying form — the form you had been taught was the most secure and standard way (they preached it like it was the bible) and settled onto your knees, hips folding over to press against the plush tops of them while your chest slowly settled into the rough cement on the roof.

you back arching more so than naturally, accentuating you ass as you lined up on moving targets that creeped just in your sights.

with no word from your earpiece, you set your sights up with one in the top corner of the house, target peaking out merely an inch before disappearing behind the wall again — acting as if someone was pacing inside, only allowing a sliver of their center to be seen before quickly returning to cover.

“easy,” you scoffed, finger coming up to rest on the trigger as you slowed your breathing, scope coming to a steady rise and fall.

just as your muscles went to squeeze the trigger down, your captains voice rung through the ear peace.

“get in proper position soldier,” price sighed over the coms, the sound of soaps deep laugh ringing afterwards.

“the lass is captain,” you heard him poke. “at least in my books.”

you couldn’t help but let your head sag forward and the swarm or giggle light up your side of the line. “cute soap, real cute,” you sighed. “too bad you’ll never get me in this position.”

you waited for the man to challenge you, knowing the scot early could take defeat and would never back down from a challenge, especially from the rookie.

however the quietness made your smile dampen, thinking that maybe your sensual tongue got you into trouble with your superiors.

“soaps out the the picture, but what about the rest of us darling?” he spoke. “gonna let the rest of us see your pretty little body propped up so perfectly for us when you get back?”

never in your life did you expect the british-brooding-hunk of a man you called lieutenant to speak up.

let alone with the words he had spoken.

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a-polite-melody · 2 months

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“Omg the transandrobros trying to make autoandrophilia (AAP) a thing are so transmisogynistic. They see the transmisogynistic theory of autogynephilia (AGP) and say ‘how can I make this about me?’ There’s nothing here to reclaim for you, you’re just stealing valour from transmisogyny.”

Way to just make a bunch of assumptions.

There absolutely is a concept that’s been weaponized against gay transmascs from medical bs around transition (it was basically impossible for lesbian transfems, as well as gay transmascs, to transition in the US at least until the 1980s; look up Lou Sullivan for more on that) to social media callouts, dogpiles, and doxxings. It is a concept that doesn’t have a formalized name like AGP (though a quick google search shows that prominent people who speak about AGP have been using AAP in conjunction with AGP since 2009) but is a concept which is similar to that of AGP and used in some similar ways against transmascs as AGP is against transfems.

One place you can very easily find this attitude (to go back to the stuff about social media, though there are implications beyond the scope of just social media here) is baked into the transmed “criticism” of gay/mlm transmascs/AFAB nonbinary people which featured (unfortunately) pretty prominently in the tumblr trans world for a long time, and while it may not be nearly as prominent now, it’s still around and easy to find if you look specifically for transmed stuff. Hell, it moved out of transmed spaces and became a tumblr-wide phenomenon of harassing (and worse) the “fujoshis”—these gross women who were so fetishistic of gay men and into gay fanfic and bl manga they deluded themselves into thinking they’re the gay boys in their favourite anime—in the name of protecting the trans community and the gay community from these infiltrators and walking conversion therapy fakebois.

I denied that I was transmasc for so long because I was worried that this “phenomenon of delusional women tricking themselves into thinking they’re men to absolve themselves the guilt of being fetishistic creeps toward gay men, reinforced by encouraging each other into the delusions” was an actual, real thing I needed to worry about, and that I might have been falling into this trap.

I worried, because the world was telling me that this (though not called the phrase) AAP phenomenon existed at the same time as when I had to actually like… actually fully delve into learning about the LGBTQ+ community after realizing I was bi to even know that being trans in a way that was something other than MTF even existed. It made more sense to me that I, while actively trying not to, was actually internally fetishizing gay men and falling into delusions than it did for me to be transmasc, because being transmasc seemed like hardly even a thing while the problem of these “fujoshis” seemed like something huge.

But yes. Absolutely nothing to reclaim here. Only wanting to steal valour from trans women and be big huge transmisogynists by making trans women’s problems into our own, not talking about any actual problems transmascs actually have because we don’t have those kinds of problems because some dumbass on the internet says so. (/this whole paragraph is sarcasm)

#my post #transandrophobia #transmisandry #anti transmasculinity #atm #autoandrophilia #more people being horrible in the transandrophobia tag #how you know I just blocked someone: I make a huge post like this #lol

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drawnfamiliarfaces · 2 months

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So, Ive started a rewatch of 9gn, and I would like to ask your opinion on the doodle vision thing. Is it just Randy remembering the pages do you think? or is the nomicon giving him a sort of limited mental text through their connection? Like especially when it seems to point to specific objects or such?

Personally, I like to think it's a little bit of both!

In my head, the first time Randy put on the mask, a surface level connection has been made between him - mask - Ninjanomicon. That's what allows the Ninjanomicon be aware of what is going on in Randy's life (how it reacts to his actions and decisions, and what prompts it to warn him/give him a lesson) despite it being, ya know a book without eyes and ears.

(on extra side note/headcanon, but I believe this is also the reason why Ninjanomicon needs the Messenger/Creep to scope out potential future ninjas - Messenger observes and evaluates and chooses, because Ninjanomicon cannot evaluate until after the candidate put the mask on and/or opened the book to establish that first surface connection.)

So, after Ninjanomicon gives a lesson, it continues to observe, and when we see doodles its because Randy is remembering AND Ninjanomicon is sort of nudging him with some of those visuals. Cause, like, more often than not the doodles appear just before/during a revelation Randy is having, but there are also sometimes extra doodle words like 'duh' or 'now this is a weapon' which feels a lot like commentary from someone else than Randy. There is some form of synchronicity - a mind drift, if you want, going on betwen them imho.

I like to think that the longer a Ninja is connected to the Nomicon, the stronger that connection gets, so at some point in the future Ninjanomicon can actually properly talk through doodles not only inside it and through memory, but also out in real life.

But since having such a strong connection is detrimental to a Ninja (aka, too much knowledge from Nomicon connection can lead to faster corruption by power) and Ninja's duty lasts only roughly 4 years, its very rare that the connection between the two gets so strong that Ninjanomicon can actually 'talk' rather than just recall memory of an already given lesson.

Also can you imagine a Ninja actually interacting with doodle talk out in real life as Nomicon talks to them? Ninja will seem like a crazy person! xD

#que?#rc9gn #ninjanomicon #randy cunningham #i mean one can argue that doodles vision is a totally unique way of Randy processing the world around him #(i keep thinking about shoob vision ep xD) but it might also be interpreted as Nomicon's doodle power warping due to Randy's insecurities #Last bit gives me ideas about some previous ninjas actually reaching #that level of close connection and going crazy when that connection is lost...

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jasmines-library · 2 months

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What do you think about a Batfam x Supernatural crossover??? Like, Reader is Dean's twin, and Sam's older sister, but she can't take the boys' nonsense anymore (like the pranks in the first season) and goes out to hunt a nest of vampires alone, only in Gotham, Batman V and confronts her, she even runs away but is caught, so she tells the truth, he takes her to the mansion and everyone is extremely shocked that these creatures are real (including Bruce) but there is no way to deny the facts!! And meanwhile the boys are freaking out because their badass sister is missing and they're looking for her like crazy?

Changes

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: (how strange, someone requested something very similar: anonymous also requested here.

Warnings: Swearing, blood and gore but not descriptive.

Word Count: 1.9k

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧ SPN MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

You had finally had enough. You just couldn’t take it anymore. The constant bickering and blame passing, the constant nights spent laying awake blaming yourselves when another got hurt…you were sick of it.

It was in the very early hours of the morning that you slipped out the door, with a handful of your belongings stuffed into a bag. It’s not like you had planned to ;eave forever..you just needed to get away for a little while. To take a breath of fresh air. You had found a hunt a few states over; a nest of vampires which should be simple enough.

You made your way to the bus station about 10 minutes before your bus was supposed to leave. It was just a short walk from the motel. You had considered taking a car or hitching a ride with someone, but you knew that Sam and Dean would be able to track you much easier if you did that. So, you opted to take a bus and exchange half-way there just to make sure they wouldn’t follow behind as quickly as you wanted them to. If you were lucky, you would make it back before they even figured out where you were. To say that they were going to be pissed when they found out would be an understatement. But you were an adult, for crying out loud. Hell, you were the same age as Dean and he seemed to run off without a care in the world.

There was little to no-one on the bus as it sped down the freeway. Supposedly that's because most people weren’t mad enough to get up at 2 in the morning to get on a bus. Either way, it was nice. You had disabled the tracker on your phone and plugged in your headphones to prepare for the drive.

Gotham city was a strange place. Extravagant, but strange. Dawn was slowly creeping into day when you hopped off the bus, and you could tell that the city was lively. There were people roaming the streets as the streetlamps flickered off and the lights inside the skyscrapers blinked on. There were dog walkers, couples holding hands and businessmen hailing cabs over the road. An eerie feeling hung about the city. You couldn’t place it, but there was something malevolent about this city. With the high rise buildings and twisting alleys,it seemed the perfect place for crime. The city was so big that people could just vanish. It was the perfect place for vampires.

You found your hotel a little way up the street. It was quaint with only one bed and a small table next to the wall by the ensuite, but it suited your needs perfectly.

Concealing a machete is not easy. Even though the city had died down slightly now it was past the mid-day hubbub, there were still people everywhere and you did not want to risk being caught by the police for carrying a weapon around. By wearing one of your jackets, you managed to conceal it under your arm as you began to scope out the city to find where the vampires were supposedly nesting.

When you finally found it, it seemed to tick all of the boxes: glazed windows, outskirts of the city, two entrances that you hoped wouldn’t lead to your untimely demise. Vampires were never very subtle. They were always the same.

The entrance to the building was concealed down a side-road. Checking your surroundings to make sure the coast was clear, you began to work on the lock. It snapped open and you made your way inside.

Sam and Dean were frantic.

The day had started out like any other. Sam had slipped out the door early in the morning for his run (a habit which Dean despised and thought was completely unnecessary). He had made nothing of the pile of pillows which you had stacked up on the couch beneath a blanket. It was only when he returned to find Dean nearly burning a floor in the carpet as he paced, taking angrily into the phone.

“No, I don't know where she could have gone, that's why I'm calling you!” Dean was scared. Sam could tell that from the first word he spoke.

There was a pause as the person Dean was on the phone to spoke. Clearly, he wasn’t happy with the response they gave as he slammed the phone shut and threw it across the room.

“Son of a bitch” he yelled, hands coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“What's going on?” Sam asked. He had a nasty feeling that he already knew.

“Y/Ns missing.”

“What?” Sam blinked.

“Yeah. I thought she’d been snatched at first but most of her stuff is gone too.”

Sam bit his lip. “Have you tracked her cell?”

His older brother nodded. “Nothing. I’ve tried calling her too. She’s turned it off.”

“Shit.”

You had managed to get yourself in a little bit of a pickle. And by ‘little bit of a pickle’, I mean ‘there were a lot more vampires than you thought and now you were fighting for your life’. So the usual, really.

When you had slunk inside the building it was completely silent as the vampires sheltered from the sun. But as you moved further into the room and began counting how many there were, you paled. Things hit the fan when you stepped backwards and knocked over a stack of books. All eyes snapped to you and you struggled to keep up with the sheer number of them. The scent of blood and sweat filled the room as you fought and swung. Most of it theirs, but some of it yours.

No matter how many you took down, their attacks never seemed to end. You had just sliced the head off of one when another three raced before you. They were about to reach you, their fangs bared and snarling, when someone tackled them to the ground. The boy was tall, muscular and dressed from head to toe in black, besides the brown jacket slung over the top and the red emblem on his chest. Another figure appeared to your left, also dressed in black. Though this time, his face was concealed by a domino mask and a blue symbol was imprinted on the front of it.

Although the vampires went down, it seemed the two vigilantes didn’t know how to kill them which meant that even with their help, you were going to get nowhere. So as they tussled with them, you swung your arm to defeat the one before you before moving to help them. When the last one went down, their attention snapped toward you as you wiped the end of the machete with the hem of your sleeve.

“What the hell was that?” The one in blue had you pinned up against the wall before you could even blink.

You scoffed. “A thank you would be nice.”

You pushed against his arm, trying to free yourself but he had you stuck firmly in place.

He lowered his voice, leaning closer to you. “I’m gonna ask you again: what the hell were they?”

“You won't believe me.” You told him slyly.

“Try us.” The one in red said.

“Vampires.”

The one in red snorted. “Funny. Now start talking before we arrest you for murder.”

“I told you you wouldn’t believe me.” You rolled your eyes. “If you let me go I’ll prove it to you.”

Dick and Jason honestly weren’t sure if they believed you or not. They had heard the commotion when they passed a building on patrol. People had been going missing in the area recently and they were investigating the area. When they saw you inside they were taken aback. Their initial instinct was to attack you, but when they realised that you were trying to stop the group of people they realised it was you who needed help. They thought it would be easy to take them down. That was until they actually tried. The attackers had sharp canines that came very close to their faces and only stilled when you attacked them with your machete.

When you revealed to them that they were vampires, they thought you were messing with them, but after you showed off their sharp fangs, they were convinced

They were silent as they walked you back to the cave, unsure what to make of it. They were shell shocked; creatures that they thought only existed in movies were real…?

Even more so, they were surprised at how unfazed you seemed. It made them wonder how long you had been doing this for. They didn’t recognise you, and you had refused to give them a name. Jason was going to ask Tim to run a search on the database later, though he wasn’t even sure if he would find anything.

Bruce wasn’t sure what to make of it. When the two vigilantes brought you into the cave after introducing themselves and explaining their work, Bruce was hesitant. He thought that this was some kind of joke. A prank by his two sons. You were adamant however, and showed him pictures on your cell and research papers online.

When you turned your cell back on, you were bombarded with dozens of miscalls and twice as many unread texts from both of your brothers and anyone else who they decided to contact about your disappearance. Shitttttt

Just as you were about to speak, a loud clatter sounded from across the batcave. All of the vigilantes in the room stood to attention and you reached for the gun holstered in your waistband. But as soon as you did so, you came face to face with eyes you knew very well.

“Dean?!” You gawped at him.

“Y/N? Oh thank god.” He pulled you close to him.

The vigilantes dropped their weapons slightly. “You know them?” Jason raised an eyebrow.

“My brothers.” You nodded. They must have managed to track the bus you got on.

“Jesus christ, Y/N. What the hell were you thinking?” Sam chided. “You could have gotten seriously hurt.”

“Relax, Sammy. I’m fine. I needed to get away from your bickering for once.”

Dick laughed from across the room “You can say that again.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean frowned.

“I mean you two are constantly arguing and I’m sick of it. I needed to get out on my own for a day or two. I was planning to come back tomorrow morning.”

“And you planned to stay here with these...people?”

“...not exactly.”

“Y/N.” Dean warned.

“They helped me.”

“You told them?!”

“Kind of hard not to when you’re being attacked by a group of blood thirsty vampires.”

“It’s true.” Jason said. “We didn’t believe her at first.”

“Sorry…”

“It’s alright.” Dean said. “We’re sorry it got so far that you felt you had to leave. All that matters is that you’re safe.”

Bruce decided to speak next, his interest peaked by your earlier statements. “So about those vampires…the other things are real too?”

Dean nodded. “Pretty much all of it.”

“Oh god. I have a feeling things are about to get a whole lot more interesting in Gotham.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

SPN TAGS:

@defonotashleyr @aestheticdaisies @xxrougefangxx

@hell-o-kittys @inlovewhithafairytale @harleycao

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

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fictionalwh0ree · 3 months

Note

hey!!! could you please do a dean winchester x reader where they play a game or something after celebrating a successful hunt and they end up confessing to each other or something like that? thanks!

best of five- dean winchester

summary: after wrapping up a hunt, you go for a drink with dean. he challenges you to a game of darts, but when the game is tied 2-2, dean ups the stakes, changing the entire trajectory of the night. word count: 2k warnings: drinking

going to the bar after wrapping up a case had become a tradition with you and the winchester boys. when your cases were in a nice city, you’d usually end up at a nicer bar, where it didn’t smell like piss and beer. one that was busy. your nights would usually end with you having hooked up with some guy there and dean taking some girl back to the room, meaning sam would room with you for the night. however, many of your cases happened in smaller towns. this meant you’d frequent shitty bars that reeked of cheap beer and piss. you enjoyed the atmosphere more, weirdly enough.

tonight had been one of those nights, you’d wrapped up a witch case in buttfuck, kentucky. usually, you’d go straight to the bar, not even stopping at whatever shitty motel you were staying at. but today, sam had called it a night early, asking to be dropped off. you and dean pushed for the younger boy to join you guys, but he insisted that you two go one your own, saying he had a headache and was sore all over. eventually, you agreed, taking him back before showering quickly and heading out. when you’d arrived at the bar, you weren’t even sure the place was open. the building was made of wood, old wood, and it looked like it was one gust of wind away from collapsing. that’s how you knew the drinks would be cheap.

you followed dean into the bar, immediately greeted by an older bartender. you took a seat at the bar and dean ordered the two of you a beer. you scoped the area, seeing some older men in cowboy hats and flannels with ripped off sleeves eyeing you. you also noticed the girls around. similar to the men, they were older, their shirts tied up at the front and bright red lipstick was smeared messily around their thin lips, their eyes glued to dean.

“jesus christ, these people are creeping me out,” you muttered to him.

“yeah, tell me about it,” dean laughed, making eye contact with a blonde lady. she smiled “seductively,” revealing lipstick stained teeth.

“i’ll call sam, let him know he should be sleeping in my room tonight. can’t imagine you leaving here home alone tonight,” you teased.

“ha ha,” he fake laughed.

“he might have to sleep in the car. i already know you’re going home with that guy over there,” he said, nodding his head towards the corner of the room.

you looked over in the right direction, met by the eyes of a man old enough to be your father. he smiled up at you, revealing his missing front tooth and the yellowing rest.

“oh yeah, he’s real cute,” you played along, rolling your eyes playfully.

dean sighed, looking around the poorly lit building. his eyes landed on a darts board, and he was immediately interested. he got a refill on your drinks before pulling you over.

“winner pays for drinks?” you said, collecting the darts from the board.

“you know it,” he said.

“best of five?” you asked.

“yep,” he confirmed, already picking up a dart.

dean had won two sets before you caught up, bringing the score to 2-2.

“sudden death?” you asked dean.

“uh huh,” he confirmed, face a little flushed.

“but, hold on,” he said, calling your attention, “what do you say we raise the stakes?”

“how so?” you smiled, interested.

thats when dean pulled a little bottle out of his jacked pocket.

“what is that?” you asked.

“i snagged it from that witch’s house. its the truth serum,” he said.

your mind flashed back to your case. yesterday, you’d been on the hunt for whatever was causing some odd deaths in the small town. you’d stopped at a diner for breakfast, and what you didn’t know at the time was that your waitress was a witch. she overheard your conversation and put in a couple drops of the truth serum into sams drink. she was interrupted by a coworker, explaining why neither you nor dean had it in your drink. for the following four hours, sam could not lie. it was hilarious to you and dean, you couldn’t stop laughing. when you’d found her den today, sam asked her what she did. she whipped out a small bottle with a dropper.

three drops of this and you can’t tell a single lie for hours, she’d said with a smug smile.

dean had been the one to finish her off, which is why he had the chance to grab the bottle, thinking it’d be funny for the future.

“loser takes three drops?” you asked.

“loser takes three drops,” dean confirmed.

“you’re on, winchester. be ready to spill your deepest and darkest secrets to me,” you smirked.

“yeah right,” he scoffed, “i’ll be hearing all about your wet dreams in ten minutes.”

“you wish,” you laughed, picking up a dart.

after an intense twenty minutes, you were losing. the score was 17-50. all you needed was one bullseye and you could win. you were on the last dart of your turn. you focused your eyes on the taunting red circle in the middle, drawing your hand back before pushing forward and releasing the dart. you watched as it landed right in the centre, granting you the winner.

“yes,” you cheered, turning to dean with your arms up in the air.

“no no, no way,” dean said.

“i win, you lose” you said, smiling childishly.

“you are so lucky,” he spoke, shaking his head with a smile.

“it had nothing to do with luck, buddy. this is pure skill,” you bragged.

“yeah right. was landing four darts on the floor pure skill?” he teased.

“that was all part of my master plan,” you lied.

“okay,” dean said sarcastically.

“you know what time it is,” you said, picking up the little bottle.

“i don’t know if this is a good idea, y/n,” he said.

“awe are you scared?” you said, mocking him with a pout.

“no,” he scoffed.

“perfect,” you said, dropping three drops into his beer, “drink up deano.”

he chugged the beer, slamming the cup onto the table. you watched as he opened his eyes slowly, looking at you.

“how do you feel?” you asked expectantly.

“great,” he said.

you looked at him, confused. for sam, it had hit almost instantly.

“i lied. i’m really nervous. please don’t ask me anything stupid,” he blurted, causing a smile to spread on your face.

“who was your first kiss?” you asked.

“i said it was mindy jones in eighth grade but it was actually jenna mcadams in grade ten,” he said.

“go to hell, y/n,” dean said.

“aw, you couldn’t live without me,” you teased.

“you’re right,” dean said before smacking his own face.

you smiled widely, your brain working hard to find a good question to ask him. you spitfired a couple dumb questions that left you clutching your stomach.

“okay okay. can we just go back now?” dean whined.

“fine, dean. give me your keys,” you said.

“my keys? why?” he asked.

“don’t you think you’ve drank a little too much to be on the road,” you asked.

“yes,” he said.

“perfect,” you smiled innocently, sticking your hand out towards him.

he rolled his eyes, reluctantly handing you the keys. he followed you out to his car and got into the passenger seat, you started the car up, picking out a mötley crüe casette and putting it in. as you started the car, you could feel dean’s eyes burning into the side of your head.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you joked.

“your music taste is really great, you know that? i mean i didn’t expect it from you but i wish it’d rub off on sam. sometimes i actually enjoy his girly shit,” he confessed.

“you like it?” you laughed.

“it’s catchy,” he said, followed by a quick, “don’t tell sam.”

you sped down the highway, kickstart my heart blasting. your window was open a little, wind blowing into the car and blowing your hair with it. it was almost a full moon and the streets were almost completely illuminated. you felt dean’s eyes on you once more. in his head, he couldn’t help but think about how perfectly the light framed your face, how it made you look almost angelic. he tried to pry his eyes from you and he prayed you wouldn’t notice him staring. he had vowed to keep his feelings for you to himself, thinking you didn’t feel the same, worried that your relationship would be ruined if he said something. he scolded himself in his head for the serum idea. he was soon broken out of his thoughts by your voice.

“you’re staring again,” you said over the music.

“sorry,” he apologized.

your eyes flicked to him quickly before you spoke again.

“so you gonna tell me why you were staring? do i have something on my face?” you asked.

“no, you just look really beautiful,” dean confessed.

“really what?” you asked, surprised and completely flattered, your cheeks heating up.

“really beautiful,” he repeated.

“you think i’m beautiful?” you asked shyly, biting your lip.

“i think you’re the most beautiful person out there,” he said.

“are you serious?” you asked, your face now hot as you held back a smile.

“well, i can’t lie,” dean said, matter-of-factly.

“dean, can i ask you something?” you said, to which he nodded.

you knew now was your chance. you really liked dean, you had for years, and you thought you felt a connection between the two of you sometimes. you’d seen the way he looked at you sometimes, you knew you were looking at him the same way when you could. you felt it when you made eye contact, when you laughed together.

“is there something between us?” you asked, eyes flickering anxiously between the boy and the road, “because i feel like there is, but i also feel like i could just be crazy.”

“i’d like there to be,” dean confessed.

“really? because i- i like you dean,” you said, making a confession of your own.

“i like you too. i have for a long time, since you started hunting with us,” he said.

“what do you like about me?” you asked, taking the opportunity.

“you’re evil,” dean smiled.

“mm, that doesn’t sound like something you like about me,” you joked.

“well,” he said before clearing his throat, “i like how your hair smells when you wash it. i like how peaceful you look when you sleep. i like how you glow when the light hits your face. i like the way you draw everyone’s attention when you step into the room. i like how easy it is for you to read people. i like how you always have sam and i’s back. i like how you care about us more than anyone ever has. i like how you don’t complain about having to listen to our problems and how you always know what to say. i like how strong and independent you are. i like how gentle you are when you patch me up. i don’t know what i don’t like about you.”

you had arrived at the motel and parked the car. it was quiet for a moment.

“i- i actually think i might love you.”

you looked up at dean, seeing the terrified look in his eyes.

“i love you too,” you smiled, pulling dean in by the shirt.

you kissed him hard, his lips moving with yours in perfect sync.

“you’re a great kisser. what do you say we take this upstairs?” dean said, making you laugh.

you nodded and followed him up to the room, his arms around your waist the whole time.

maybe the truth serum wasn’t a bad idea after all.

#dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester

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radioactive-reactions · 1 month

Note

How would the companions react to discovering not only Vault 111 but also the frozen Sole Survivor

Whether they saw it as a potential treasure trove, a nostalgic relic, or just a safe, quiet refuge, Vault 111 always seemed to attract the odd scavenger or adventurer. After slipping past the door, however, this particular intruder would end up stumbling upon something far stranger than they could expect...

Cait hadn't really taken the time to scope out the Vault before diving into it headfirst- having a pack of feral dogs nipping at your heels will do that to you. Coming face to face with the frozen Sole Survivor down there is freaky enough to give her a heart attack, but as the perfect audience for her rambling stories and a nonjudgmental drinking buddy they soon become the centerpiece of her impromptu hideout. As for actually getting them out? Fuck if she knows how.

Codsworth knows full well what the Vault up the hill contains, of course. How could he not? Much of the aging robot's time is spent tending to his owners' pods: tightening every bolt, polishing the glass, keeping the steel casing free of even a single speck of rust. The only thing that keeps him going is the thought that on some level, under that thin layer of frost, they might know he's there for them.

Curie's unbridled excitement at making contact with another Vault is quickly tempered once she actually sets eyes on the denizens of said Vault. With nothing but time and centuries' worth of medical expertise to work with, she immediately sets to the task of bringing Vault 111 back to life- not just the Sole Survivor, but everyone consigned to a cold and inglorious fate in those cryopods. This is a mission worth spending another two hundred years on.

Danse has been assigned to scour the Vault as part of a routine sweep for useful technology- a task entirely beneath a Paladin, but what he finds there more than makes up for it. Immediately, a whole field research team is dispatched to the vault and the cryopods are airlifted out one by one. The Sole Survivor's first memory of the new world is waking up to the harsh white light of a Brotherhood lab, bombarded with questions and shoved blearily through a battery of tests. Not a great first impression.

Deacon still thinks the Vault would make an ideal fallback hideout, even with the rows of corpsicles. The eerie blue glow and residents in cryosleep are pitched to Desdemona as enhancing the ambience, but the suggestion is soundly denied for the Vault's visibility. Even so, Deacon maintains a post outside, just in case one of those poor bastards stumbles out one day.

When Hancock inexplicably wakes up in the Vault after partying a little too hard, he immediately assumes he's still hallucinating- that, or he's been picked up by Zetans. It takes him hours of trying to pry the Sole Survivor's pod open in a hungover haze to finally give up, writing the place off as another of the Old World's many sins and decent subject matter for his next speech.

MacCready almost feels at home in the vast underground chambers of the Vault. Almost. No matter how convenient the Vault is as a last-ditch hideout, its residents creep him out too much to stay there for any real length of time. He tries his hardest to avoid their frozen stares, endlessly grateful that it's them in there and not him.

Valentine relates to the frozen Sole Survivor a little more than he'd like to admit. Two abandoned relics, used to serve a greater purpose and then thrown out like so much junk when they were done. He knows more than anyone what a harsh awakening they're going to have- if they do wake up. Every so often, he'll wander back to check on them, sharing a yarn about his latest case and watching for any progress. On the day that pod does unseal, he'll be there to lend a helping hand... but until then, all he can do is maintain a file. It's one hell of a cold case.

Piper feels a little guilty that her first thought is how good of a story this will make. 'Pod people slumber among us', maybe? She doesn't want to risk the Sole Survivor's life by touching anything, but maybe if she spreads the word someone out there will be able to help them. That's how she justifies it to herself, anyway- now if only there was some concrete link to the Institute she could work in...

Preston has been surveying the area around Sanctuary for potential threats to the burgeoning settlement... and he still isn't entirely sure that this doesn't count as one. It takes a moment to line up the resident registry with the names on Sanctuary's rusted-out mailboxes, but once he does, he has the Vault sealed up again out of respect for those who came before. If he and his scant resources can't help them, he can at least let them rest in peace.

Strong hammers away at the pod to no avail before stomping off in a huff to seek his next victim somewhere else. Canned food clearly isn't his thing.

X6-88 is here for a routine checkup - nothing more, nothing less. Although the Director had been cagey about what exactly he wanted to be kept safe down here, there was nothing X6 wouldn't be prepared for... so he thought, at least. The sight of a person, frozen and contained, gives him a rare moment of pause and elicits an uncomfortable, involuntary comparison to the dormant synths rolling off the assembly line. Nevertheless, he makes sure the cryopod is still functional and returns home, all the while trying to forget their strange resemblance to the Director.

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fo4 cait #codsworth #fo4 deacon #fo4 curie #paladin danse #john hancock #rj maccready #nick valentine #piper wright #preston garvey #fo4 strong #x6 88 #reactions #the april fools joke is me being active #who else is looking forward to that fallout 4 remaster? i am #despite myself

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steventhusiast · 11 months

Text

steve’s in the middle of trying to organise a pile of returned tapes by genre when he hears the bell on the door ring. his eyes flicker up to family video’s door, and he intends to only check the customer doesn’t look suspicious, but when he sees who’s entered the store he can’t help the smile that creeps onto his face.

“eds!” he greets his boyfriend, happily abandoning his task to lean onto the counter and watch eddie walk up to him.

“your highness.” eddie greets dramatically, and steve watches as he does a quick scope of the store as he reaches the counter. it’s empty, so of course eddie hops up and over the obstacle to stand next to steve.

“what the hell, eddie!” robin complains as eddie knocks into her half-organised tape pile on his way over, sending a couple tapes onto the ground.

eddie looks at her with a wide-eyed ‘oops’ expression, and then picks up the tapes, attempting to put them back in their place.

“sorry, buck.”

“yeah, yeah.” she huffs, but she’s smiling a little so steve knows she’s not actually mad. she holds up a copy of back to the future, and raises an eyebrow, “you put this in the romance pile.”

“stevie says marty tries to bang his mom in that, so am i really wrong?”

robin blinks at him a couple times, and then shakes her head and resumes her pile-sorting, seemingly done with them for now.

eddie finally smiles at steve from where he is next to him, and gently takes his hand and squeezes it under the counter.

“missed you last night.” he says. steve shuffles his feet a little in response, and squeezes his hand back.

“missed you too. you know how my parents are when they’re in town.”

“yeah, i know.” eddie’s soft smile switches to something more playful as he pauses, “too bad though, had biiig plans for us involving.. one of our most recent purchases in indy.”

robin makes a gagging sound from where she’s stood, and as steve blushes and opens his mouth to say something in reply she reaches over to push at his shoulder and then starts talking before he gets the chance to.

“i say this with love because you are my favourite dingus and dongus, if you make me stand here and listen to you make vague sexual references while i get paid minimum wage to organise these stupid tapes, i might do something drastic.”

eddie snorts at her words.

“you have such a way with words, robs.”

for some reason she looks offended at that, and steve chuckles to himself as he waits for the verbal tennis match to start between them.

they’re interrupted by the bell at the door telling them another customer has walked in, so steve glances over again and-

oh. it’s tommy’s mom.

somehow, for some reason, tommy never told his parents that they’re not on speaking terms anymore. steve had been absolutely dumbfounded the first time mrs hagan came over to say hello after their fight. he’d been expecting her to start chewing him out for upsetting her baby, but instead she’d asked how his mother was doing and had given him a motherly hug like always.

so, he steels himself for an interaction that will later make him feel a strange mix of nostalgic, sad and angry.

“steve! i forgot you work here.” mrs hagan grins at him as she walks over, a copy of pretty in pink in her hand.

“hi mrs hagan.” he offers her a half-hearted smile, and she puts the tape on the counter.

“just came to return this. such a lovely surprise to see you, though. it’s been too long honey! i’m sure tommy misses having you around, i know i do.” she says, and steve winces slightly as he feels robin’s eyes on him.

“oh, yeah. it’s, it’s real nice to see you too mrs h.” there’s an awkward pause where mrs hagan frowns a little at his lack of response to her tommy-related words, so he continues, “time really does fly when you’re not at high school anymore. barely have time to see any of my friends, really.”

he pointedly doesn’t look over to where eddie is now helping robin through the pile of tapes. mrs hagan nods uncertainly, and after steve’s finished with her return and a couple seconds of awkward silence have passed, she nods to herself.

“right, well.. i’ll be off then. we’re actually having a small gathering this weekend, honey. i bet tommy would love to see you there!” she tries at a smile again, but steve can’t really hide the panic in his eyes at the offer.

“oh! i’d- i’d love to mrs h, but i am just-“ he makes a vague gesture with his hands, “so swamped. really busy weekend.”

mrs hagan looks sad at his words, but nods again slowly.

“another time then.”

“sure.” steve lies, and watches as she leaves.

once she’s gone, he thinks about what the party would be like if he does go. he won’t, obviously, but.. what if?

realistically, he knows tommy would be the same jerk he’d been when they last talked a few years ago. but the more childish part of him that remembers his friendship with tommy through rose-coloured glasses wants to believe it could be fun.

maybe it’d be like old times, and he and tommy would take turns pushing each other into the pool. then they’d get each other a plate of food, purposely putting something they know the other doesn’t like on it because they think it’s funny. and finally, after a few hours they’d sneak off to tommy’s room and hang out, talking about anything and everything that comes to mind.

a big part of steve knows tommy was a toxic friend, that they weren’t good for each other and their relationship was strained and unhealthy. but a small part of him misses him more deeply than he wants to admit.

sometimes, when robin asks him a question about his childhood and he realises she hasn’t been his friend since birth, he thinks about how tommy would know that because he’d been there since the start. or she’ll falter when looking for a plate and steve knows tommy could navigate his kitchen with his eyes closed.

but in the same vain, robin will know that he’s got a migraine coming just from the smallest of winces, and steve thinks about how tommy doesn’t even know he gets migraines now. and she knows which floorboard in his room covers a pile of polaroids of him and eddie, and he thinks about how tommy wouldn’t even be safe enough to tell about their relationship.

“you in there, stevie?” eddie says from beside him, jokingly knocking on the top of his head.

steve smiles at him, and bumps him with his shoulder affectionately.

“yeah, just thinking.” he says, and looks at the glass door again. mrs hagan’s car is pulling out of the lot now.

“careful, that sounds dangerous.” robin jokes, and then makes trumpet noises with her mouth as she sorts the final tape into the correct pile.

eddie joins in with her dramatics, going as far as to mime playing his trumpet. robin critiques the way he’s miming holding one, and eddie scoffs at her and tells her to mime playing guitar so he can make fun of her back.

steve smiles to himself, and looks away from the car as it drives away.

he may miss his friendship with tommy sometimes, but this? he wouldn’t trade this for the world.

idk what this is but i hope u enjoyed it

inspired by one of my old best friends’ parents who used to come into the store i worked at and say hi to me because they didn’t know our friendship group had a MASSIVE falling out. i miss that friendship a lot sometimes even though it was toxic, and those thoughts inspired this because every thought i have can be projected onto steve if i try hard enough

#steve harrington has so much space to project onto #blank canvas for all my things #steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #st #mywriting #robin buckley #platonic stobin #stobin

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i-smoke-chapstick · 3 months

Note

Hi! Can I please have Zsasz from Gotham with a reader who is like his partner in crime and kills with him and stuff? Thanks

‘IN BLOOM,

-GOTHAM!VICTOR ZSASZ X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; you just might be his favorite girl.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!victor x female reader. wrote hcs! readers a bad bitch. victor and reader being partners in crime. victor becoming obsessive after like, 5 seconds. Might write a part two to this ahh

♫ “And he likes to sing along / And he likes to shoot his gun” In Bloom by Nirvana

⋆ Oh, he didn't know it was possible to be so head-over-heels. Victor is self-aware to a fault, he knows when he's being a bit of a creep. And with you? It's as if all his deepest sadistic urges are brought to a front. And he gets drunk on it.

⋆ He has a cold heart, naturally. Not a fan of getting attached to people, especially those who may become a future target. And god knows he doesn't like competition, either. Which is why discovering you was a revelation; that he could for one even like someone so close in his ball game.

⋆ There had been plenty of whispers about you in the streets of gotham. He didn't care much. The only thing he should care about was who Falcone ordered him to kill next.

⋆ But, alas, when he heard the growing commotion about "Y/N, gothams most dangerous hitman," he got a bit...irked.

⋆ What the hell? Isn't he gothams most dangerous hitman?

⋆ Victor takes great pride in his work, and in his title. He knows he has exceptional talent and even greater work ethic. So why is this woman threatening him?!?

⋆ So, he decided to pay you a little visit.

⋆ For gothams newest most dangerous hitman, you certainly have a way of making things easy.

⋆ He found your apartment in no time, gladly making the place his own. It was surprisingly ordinary, pictures of you and friends littering the wall. It was your collection of guns that made him stop in his tracks. He analyzed the wall with great fascination, silently gazing at an assault rifle. His gloved hands danced over the barrel, making it his own. He let out a low wolf whistle as he peered down it's scope.

⋆ "It's an AR-70." A voice pulled him out of his thoughts. It was the first time someone had managed to sneak up on him, not the other way around.

⋆ It took every fiber of his body to remain stoic.

⋆ He turned to face you, the owner of the weapon. Victor glanced at the gun being referred to and nodded his head slowly, still looking at your face. His confidence returned to him easily.

⋆ "Hot-damn. Some top-notch stuff you got here." His voice was slow, and his gaze returned to the wall. He dragged his finger along some of the firearms hung up, before turning to you once more.

⋆ "Should really make yourself harder to find if you're going to be in the business. It's unprofessional, you know?" He cocked his head and gave you a fake grimace. You just smiled.

⋆ "And what does Victor Zsasz want with me? You on your bosses orders?

⋆ "Nah." He responds, casual. "I only wanted to meet you in person, just to know who you are. Check you out. Don't worry about it, you're not on my list," He clicked his tongue. "yet." He finishes, as he toys with the gun from the rack, checking its quality.

⋆ "You like the rifle?" You study him, head to toe. His trigger finger expertly dancing along the weapon.

⋆ Without turning his head, he answers you. "I do, but I prefer my handguns." You hear the click of him checking to see if the gun is loaded.

⋆ You hum. "To each there own. You want it?"

⋆ This takes him by surprise, and he finally tears his gaze away. You've piqued his interest even more now.

⋆ "...For real?" He narrows his eyes on you. "...You're just gonna, what, let me keep it?"

⋆ "Why not? I got plenty." You nod towards the wall, biting your lip. His eyes glance at your mouth.

⋆ You catch him off guard. He actually seems amused by you. Maybe it's your attitude that's rubbing off on him. A few moments pass then he shrugs. You can't read his expression but his body language speaks volumes.

⋆ "...Yeah, I'll take it."

⋆ "Ah ah ah..." You whisper, taking a step closer. He still clutches the gun in his hand while he feels your own rub over his leather-clad arms. He keeps eye contact with you, mouth slightly agape. "On one condition." You continue.

⋆ He perks up and looks at you curiously. His eyebrows raise, ready to hear you out.

⋆ "Invite me to your next hit. We can double team it, or something. I dunno," You pause, looking up at him. "Would be an honor to kill with you, Victor Zsasz." You whisper into his ear, only moving back when you're done.

⋆ Your proposal actually made him laugh. You see him crack a smile as he looks away from you for a second. Look at you, he thinks. Coming by, kissing the ring. He can admire the respect.

⋆ "Quite the character, aren't you?" He pauses, "I've got a job to do tomorrow, wanna tag-along? It's gonna be an easy one, I won't go too hard on you."

⋆ You both feel the corners of your mouth twitch at this, in anticipation. This is where the seeds of obsession first blossom for him. Oh, he likes you.

⋆ When he finally leaves, he feels like a kid in a candy store. New rifle in hand, and your phone number elegantly typed into his own. He forgets all about his previous misgivings with you.

⋆ You on the other hand are left smiling, for a sociopathic sadist, he is real fucking cute.

⋆ The closest way into a mans heart is with a gun. You chuckle.

#gotham #x reader #gotham x reader #batman #dc comics #victor zsasz #victor zsasz headcanons #victor zsasz x reader #gotham victor zsasz #victor zsasz gotham #gotham villains #gotham villains x reader #gotham imagines #batman x reader #batman rouges gallery #batman rogues

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ot3 · 6 months

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i just finished tgaa so if you don't mind perhaps repeating urself i'd kinda wanna know what u think 🙈

i really like dgs i feel like it's superbly well executed from all technical angles and the characters are a blast. i think it has a SERIOUS pacing problem though. it was not as bad the first time around, since the novelty of everything stops it from feeling like a slog. but man oh man i think it TANKS the replay value, especially the first game. unspeakable story was difficult enough to get through the first time around but the thought of playing it again is kind of overwhelming.

i honestly think you could cut the length of most trials by ~20% and the dgs games would still be the same game. in general i just feel like the games were a little bit too ambitious and considering they put takumi into the hospital i don't think that's an unfair assessment. i think they suffered from a real scope creep that prevented them from being as tightly written as the trilogy.

that said i think overall they're a great addition to the ace attorney canon and a great show case for shu takumi at his takumi-est. considering that the arsene lupin vs herlock sholmes stories were the first detective stories he really got into, and set him on the path of detective fiction, i think its great he got to do his own take on holmes.

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sentientgolfball · 13 days

Text

Mushy May: Cuteness Aggression

Gonna be real I wasn't planning on doing mushy may because school and writing challenges scare me buuuuuut I was suddenly struck with the mood so here it is :3 Shoutout to @forlorn-crows for the prompts

Can't promise I'll do all the days, but I do have a sweet little Phantrora thing in the works

Word Count: 843

Pairing: Cirtom

Cirrus is going to lose her mind.

It had been a slow day for her, finishing all of her chores bright and early to have the rest of the day to relax. She had come back to the den around lunchtime, curling up in her nest with lemonade and a strawberry and cream sandwich. She had thrown back her blinds and soaked up the spring sun while continuing a book Mountain had recommended to her. It was nice, peaceful. She hadn’t realized how much time had passed until a sweet scent wafted into her room, catching her attention.

She had marked her place in her book, pausing in the middle of a paragraph to scent the air, trying to see if she could place the smell. Someone was definitely making some form of pastry in the kitchenette. She stood, cracked her back with a groan and decided to go scope it out. Maybe she’d be able to get a little taste before the rest of the pack returned.

She assumed she’d walk out there to see Cumulus with flour streaked across her face, brow furrowed as she tried to read and understand what the recipe was telling her. If not her then definitely Swiss would be there shaking his ass to whatever music would be blasting in his headphones while he carefully measures everything out. What she saw when she turned the corner though was so much sweeter than anything she could’ve imagined.

Phantom is standing with their hands on their hips, head cocked slightly to the right as they stare at the binder with all the pack recipes. There’s a smudge of batter on their cheek and to top it all off they have a cute, pink little apron tied tight around their body. When the timer dings their ears perk up, tail twitching back and forth, and that cute, easy smile returns to their face. Cirrus is going to scream as she watches Phantom carefully take the cinnamon rolls out the oven, cheering quietly to themselves when they see they didn’t deflate.

When Phantom finally turns, noticing Cirrus standing in the hallway, they shriek. They clutch their chest and take a few deep, steadying breaths.

“Shit Cir you scared the fuck out of me” they huff a laugh.

Hearing their voice breaks her spell of paralysis. She smiles wide and soft, walking over to join them in the kitchen.

“Whatcha doing love bug?”

“Making cinnamon rolls” they say as they filter around the kitchen, preparing a piping bag to frost the pastries.

“Any particular reason?” She asks.

“Dew’s summoning day is coming up yea? I know he likes it when Swiss makes these so I wanted to try it” a small blush creeps onto their face as they give their reasoning.

Oh, she can barely stand it. The sheepish little way their ears flick, the focus on their face as they frost each individual roll, that fucking apron. She’s losing her mind and all they’re doing is baking. She just wants to squeeze them and shake them and kiss them silly.

“Tada! They just need to finish cooling and they’ll be done! What do you think Cir?” They turn back towards her, a wide grin plastered to their face.

She can’t help herself.

She crowds them back up against the counter, caging them in with her arms. They squeak with the suddenness of it, eyebrows shooting up as they stare at her. Cirrus just laughs and peppers their face in little kisses, nipping playful at their ear. They smell like brown sugar and cinnamon, sweet. They giggle and purr with each press of Cirrus’ lips and her heart just aches.

“You are the cutest, sweetest fucking thing love bug.”

“Cirrrr stoooop you can’t just say that” they whine but the smile never leaves their face.

“Why not?”

Kiss.

“I think I should be allowed to compliment you..”

Kiss.

“Whenever..”

Kiss.

“I want.”

Kiss.

“Especially when it turns you into a little pile of ghoul mush.”

Kiss.

They’re practically glowing, deep purple blush on the tips of their ears and spilling from their cheeks to their neck. A little bolt of quintessence ripples across their Lichtenberg figure scars and Cirrus laughs. She presses a kiss to their lips, smiling when the sound of their tail beating against the counter reaches her ears. When they part, Phantom grins and kisses the tip of her nose.

“If you help me clean up I’ll let you have some. These were just a test batch anyway.”

She swipes the smudge of batter off their face and licks it from her thumb. She chirps when the sweetness hits her, feathers ruffling for a moment before settling back down.

“Oh, that’s good. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

She places one last big kiss on their cheek with an over-exaggerated ‘mwah’ before stepping back, giving them room to move.

“Hey, quick question?”

“Hm?”

“Where’d you get the apron?”

“Oh! Cumulus said I could borrow it.”

Cirrus nods with a hum, “ask her if you can keep it.”

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #the band ghost fic #phantom ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #cirtom #mushy may 2024 #golfball writes

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