and so is the title xd

anonymous asked:

Why Undertaker always sits cross legged? Just curious.. Hello there

‘Cause he’s packing a lot, has super long legs and is basically the canonically most handsome character so he’s a walking model with apparent scarification and it’s all about feeling comfortable when he sits with his legs crossed.

Besides, don’t you think it’s way more pleasant that way? Were he to sit with his legs wide open, even Ciel could kick him down there and besides it’s also more thoughtful towards ladies. xD

It’s not “always” though, here’s an example when he’s not…

…but I’ll let you wonder where Vincent’s right hand is and what it’s doing instead (just kidding). ;)

He gotta own up to his title of “the most handsome character” though and since he already has dirty hair, he needs to make up for it with the rest of his attitude.

I hope it satisfies your curiosity! xD Have a nice day, Anon!  

Title: Overnight
Summary: Obi-Wan had been imprisoned ever since Qui-Gon had taken him as his apprentice, Cody takes it upon himself to break him out.

Really, I wrote this for last weeks @finish-the-clone-wars prompt ‘Prison’, but it can fit for ‘Virus’ as well…like a bit. Either way i’m late XD.  Basically this has to do with Obi-Wan never taking care of himself, but always taking care of others. And of course it’s Codywan because I can’t write any Obi-Wan content without Cody being with him XD So, hope yall enjoy. As always it’s all over the place, but I did my best. And I’m my own beta!


He’d been like this since Qui-Gon, apparently

Negligent and careless.

(That man had dogged on him since he’d taken him as his apprentice, held him up to such impossible standards, that Obi-Wan had dedicated the entirety of his Jedi career to being the perfect Knight. No matter the consequences).

Not of anyone else—no, never of anyone else.

Anakin’s health and training came first and foremost, and Obi-Wan Kenobi had spent every waking moment of the next ten years of his life, post Qui-Gon’s death,  dedicated to that boy (And for all the life he gave to the young Jedi, Anakin repaid it with disobedience and arrogance0.  

When Ahsoka had been welcomed into the Sheepfold, Obi-Wan had dedicated his time to supervising Anakin, supervising the Togruta in hopes to do better than he had done with Skywalker (in a sense, he had failed with Anakin—or so he had thought. But in Cody’s humble opinion, Anakin had failed him).

His men—the Clones—come next.

He can’t sleep, can’t get a moment to breath. Not when there is immorality walking and breathing around him. Not when he sits as Master of an army of slaves.

He doesn’t deserve sleep, he doesn’t deserve rest, or care, or solace…not when there are maps to pour over, strategies to create, and battles to be won. He wins for his men above all else—he’s not Anakin—so he chooses the least risky mission, wants to see his men survive, wants to see them pull through.

And at the very least, he wants them to live their lives. Their stolen lives, as fully as they can.

So he is not negligent with them.

But he is negligent with himself. Negligent with his health.

Cody supposes that’s why he finds his General out on the floor the next morning, sickly pale and cold to the touch. He excused himself the night before during dinner, and told them he’d had things to do. They all knew what those things were. If it wasn’t meditation for hours straight trying to commune with the Force for clarity, then it was military documents and strategies until dawn.

All, according to Obi-Wan, better than eating.  

By the time he brings his General to the medbay, his breathing is shallow, and his vitals are low. Deathly low.

So low that there is no guarantee of his survival, because malnourishment is not his only problem.

From what the Medic has told Cody, he is ill. Has been for ages. Nothing serious—because most viruses aren’t serious.

But then most people don’t starve themselves until they can hardly stand.  

Most people are not negligent of their health.

And then again, most people aren’t Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Cody sits in the medbay all night, by himself (save for the occasional clone or two that come to check on their general, and the looming presence of the medic).

He tried General Skywalker, but apparently his free time with Senator Amidala is more important than his dying master. Commander Tano is nowhere to be found, most likely following Skywalker as well.

(He’s luckier with General Windu and General Koon, but they won’t be able to make it until tomorrow. And tomorrow may be too late)

If Obi-Wan wakes up, Cody promises he’ll do better. Better than General Skywalker. Better than Commander Tano.

Better than Qui-Gon Jinn.

He’ll have to do better than Qui-Gon Jinn if he wants to save Obi-Wan from this…this prison. This life sentence of selflessness. This life sentence of death.

And lastly, Cody will have to do better than himself. Because for far too long he has sat by idly as his General declines.

And when his general twitches ever so slightly, fingers curling and uncurling quickly as he begins to regain consciousness, Cody thinks he just might have a chance.


I really fought with the title because I wanted it to be from one of Bon Iver’s song but that didn’t make sense. So i just came up with something on my own.

2

This is such an important detail for Pudding’s characterization.
We learned that, after Lola left Totland (and the only thing we know now about that moment is that Pudding was just a little child back then) the three-eyed girl kept refusing the title of “Minister of Chocolate” because she still had faith in her sister’s return and probably because she doesn’t feel worthy of Lola’s position even yet.
Pudding loves and respects Lola so much, I hope to see more of their relationship in the future.

P.S. Pudding is so cute rolled into Rabian xD How was she even able to get there? Ahahahah

riverstonesims  asked:

fairy lights, daisies, oil paints & messy bun!

fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?
Oh dear. I guess as of now, i would like to know if i’ll ever find again a job that i like.. or a job at all lol

daisies: what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?
My university degree. It seemed like an impossible thing at the time, since i’ve never been a very studying person. Sometimes i still get nightmares of me missing out an exam and not being able to graduate LOL but i actually did it!

oil paints: what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?
OMG no please HAHAHA my life is pretty ordinary tbh :°D it would be something like “the ordinary life of a 27 yo girl” xD

messy bun: the world is listening. pick one sentence you would tell them.
As clichè as may sound, i’d say “be kind to one another”. Life is so short and you could lose the people you love any moment. Just love and be kind, you know? And live and let live, for pete’s sake. Just let people be and do what they like and love who they want, without judging every move. Okay now i’m off haha

thanks for asking :*

8

3 Days until Woohyun’s Birthday - Those “Wtf Woohyun” Moments

Daddy Devil  { Submission }

<– [Prologue] | [Dominance] | 

A/N: Lmaoooo the title is misleading xD but! In the context of the first part of this story, it makes sense lol. So there!

Anyway, here’s the second part of Daddy Devil! There was a lot of positive feedback on the first part, so I figured I’d give writing a second part a shot. Hopefully you all like it!

Consider it a belated Valentine’s Day present~ ;p

Words: 7,414

Genre: Smut/Demon!AU


Namjoon finds himself standing at the bottom of the regal staircase, face blank and cock grown hard between his legs. The clock on the walls ticks just past 3AM, and the entire house is silent—Hell, for once, seems to have quieted down.

But the thoughts in Namjoon’s brain are loud. The images from his dream continue to play in his head, and he scowls, fingers curling into fists.

Taut, rosy nipples—skin decorated with bruises and hickies. Thighs quivering, lips and chin slick with drool, ass red—but that smirk. That cocky little smirk that only belongs to one girl he’s had the pleasure of attempting to ruin, and that damn smirk belongs to you. A smart little girl in Jungkook’s territory, daring enough to deem him “daddy” and even more bold as to play games in his presence despite the fact that you had been at his complete mercy.

The way you’d reacted and bantered with him had been branded into his mind, and you’d been terrorizing him even though your physical presence in his life was lacking.

And tonight is not the first night you had entered his dreams and made him like this—cock stiff and weeping, his heart thrumming with the need to dominate and make you submit.

Yet…his dependence somewhat scares him, because he doesn’t need you, so instead he turns his frustration elsewhere—stepping forward and throwing open the double doors leading into the Play Room.

Girls are thrown over the couches and chairs, eyes groggily popping open at the sound of someone entering. They’re wearing nothing but collars or piercings, typically not needing clothes when their services are needed by many of Namjoon’s men throughout the day.

Eyes widening, the girls can hardly believe their eyes when they spot that its Namjoon who has interrupted their sleep, and any rude thoughts that had come to mind fly away. They all scramble to their feet, watching as Namjoon looks them over, their mouths already slack as their gaze drops to the tent in his pants.

“Don’t make me ask,” he simply states, voice gruff from sleep, and undresses himself before sitting down in an arm chair. Obedient as always, the girls immediately surround him, hands roaming his tanned skin and their mouths parting to release quiet moans.

Namjoon closes his eyes as they work, eyebrows furrowed as lips caress his neck and chest, a small hand boldly wrapping around his cock. They tug skillfully, a mouth descending to enclose around the head of his length. The wet warmth comforts him, coaxing his orgasm towards the surface, but even so he still feels unsatisfied.

These girls have no voice—no effect on him. They don’t make him cocky—don’t give him a challenge. They’re here to please and nothing more, there’s no feeling behind their actions, no reaction behind what they feel.

When he opens his eyes he sees a girl knelt before him, mouth engulfing his cock, her eyes locked on his, waiting to receive his approval. But that’s all she cares about, making sure the Devil is happy with her work, and that doesn’t get Namjoon off.

It used to, in the drunk hours of the night, but not now.

Now he only sees the girls face and wishes that she could be you—trying your best to please him earnestly, searching for a reward yet also getting off despite the pain. A spicy, yet innocent demon—one that he wants to get his hands on once again.

“Fuck,” he growls, reaching down and shoving the girl off of him.

“Sir?” she asks in surprise, nervousness overtaking her tone. Standing up, Namjoon quickly steps into his pants, cock still hard against his leg, and looks back at the girls. His eyes are dark.

“You all did fine, go back to sleep.”

With that he exits the room and storms up the stairs. When he reaches his private quarters, Namjoon slams the door shut behind him, feet gluing to the floor a few steps inside the room. His eyes lock on the spot where he’d first saw you—hands bound above your head, body bare and utterly perfect.

Hand sneaking beneath the band of his pants, his palm strokes his cock, breath turning shaky as he recalls his memory of that day. Your ass, your lips—the way your pussy had felt around his cock. The way you’d obeyed him yet had made sure to retain your independence with wit, and the thought of your snarky words alone has a growl building in his throat, wrists twisting and his eyes fluttering shut.

He recalls your slicked thighs and quivering muscles as he’d touched you, and his teeth grind, dick aching under his touch. The temptation of your wet, warm walls enclosing him and taking him so wonderfully is what sends him over the edge, a gravelly curse sneaking past his lips as he cums in his own palm, the white substance accidentally painting the inside of his pants as well.

Eyes reopening, Namjoon stares down at himself, eyes burning maroon as confused anger passes through his skull. He doesn’t remember the last time he got off like this—like a blushing virgin boy, jacking off to fantasies in his head. He’s always had people to service him—to do his bidding, to take care of his needs. And the girls eat him up, truly. A chance to pleasure the Devil—what lower level, horny demon would pass the opportunity up?

But now they’re not enough for him, and it’s frustrating to realize that he wants you. God, you of all people—a random demon he hadn’t even known about until two weeks ago. But…fuck, something about you has him yearning for more…

“Fuck,” he growls, running his unsoiled hand through his hair. Namjoon walks forward and steps out of his pants, discarding his shirt on the bathroom floor as he strides into the white-tiled room, hand reaching out to start the shower.

He wants you but he’s not sure if you want to see him again. After all, he’d taken you under his mercy, even if you had enjoyed it (at least judging by the way your body had reacted).

But why should he care about the way you feel? He’s the Devil, he can have what he wants.

So, attempting to push his worries aside, writing it off as an emotion he shouldn’t need to bother with (even though the question of: do you want him like he wants you? remains), Namjoon steps into the steaming shower and decides that the next time you come to his mind he won’t hold back. He’ll come and find you.


Darkness descends upon Hell, the artificial sun fading away. The sky changes shade as the ball in the sky fades from yellow to dimmed white, craters appearing on its surface—a little feature added to mimic the look of Earth’s moon.

Namjoon has always been interested in Earthlings and the way that their world functions, Jungkook muses, nursing the glass of juice the bar tender had passed him. Well—half juice, the other half is vodka, but he hates to drink it straight. He typically despises being teased by his hyungs as the youngest, yet in this instance he’ll resign to his younger age. Sweet drinks are still his favorite.

Taking a swig of the concoction, Jungkook’s eyes shift sideways, head turning as he survey’s the laden bar. Most of the patrons he knows briefly on a name or face basis. It’s his job as the 3rd level guardian to know those he needs to keep tabs on.

However, mixed into the crowd are unfamiliar faces as well—people who are likely from Hoseok or Jimin’s level. It’s rare that anyone from Jin’s or Taehyung’s levels ever comes up for a visit, and typically the high class demons of Namjoon’s domain stay mingled amongst their own rank. And, of course, people from Yoongi’s dusty basement don’t get out much either, or…ever, really.

Sighing, Jungkook turns on his stool and takes another mouthful of his drink. Slyly, his eyes glance to the corner of the room where you and your friends are sitting, chatting away about one thing or another.

A couple days after Namjoon had deposited you back home, you had bumped into Jungkook, slapping your hand against his chest angrily at the way he had treated you before. Jungkook had laughed, taking your hand into his own and bringing it to his lips, apologizing for his actions. “It was too much fun,” he’d said, which had earned him another smack, and then…an invitation for lunch. To talk.

You had wanted to know about Namjoon—what he would do next, if he would come for you again. Jungkook hadn’t been able to supply you with much of an answer. He had no idea how Namjoon would act from here on. To his knowledge, nothing like this had ever happened before. Sure, Namjoon had found plenty of girls over the ages to take into his bed for one night only, but…this was different. That’s what Jungkook sensed from the situation. And his suspicions had only been confirmed when you had—

Oh, and do you know what this is??” you had asked him, looking around with slightly flushed cheeks before you’d lifted up your shirt, revealing the small, shattered black circle on your ribs.

In speed unmatched Jungkook had immediately reached over, tugging your shirt back in place, his face so close to yours that you had seen the shock in his eyes.

“That’s the Devil’s mark,” he had said, sounding baffled, his voice quiet as he had fallen back into his seat. “I mean…it’s the guardians mark—we each have one—

Pushing a bit of energy into his palm, Jungkook made his own circular black mark appear.

“What…is it?” you had asked, and Jungkook had bit his lips, brows furrowing.

“It basically…is claim? Well–,” he quickly made to amend his phrasing. “The guardians use these circles as a way to keep track of the people we especially…want to keep an eye on. The mark allows us to sense any extreme emotions—pain, sadness, happiness…ecstasy…

Your eyes had widened, arms crossing over your chest, and Jungkook had stared back at you, unsure what to say.

“So it’s basically a leash.”

Keep reading

4

Bakugou’s smile can scare off childrens easily..(・∀・ ) He could run the title of “Number 1. Most Evil-looking hero” for generations lololol

read from left>right

i hope this counts as “several children” XD @princeasimdiya12

Keep reading

Partner in Time

For @hiniparlousblog! <3

“Your boyfriend went to the corner store.”
 
He gave Seven the slowest, most irritated eyebrow lift he could. Just when he thought he had heard the worst nonsense from his friend’s mouth, Seven managed to think of something worse. And he had literally arrived a minute ago. “Pardon?”
 
“Your boyfriend! My baby brother! Don’t tell me it’s over already!” Seven mock-pouted.
 
“Why would you think that? He avoids me constantly.”
 
“You guys were so cute two days ago!”
 
Ah, he was referring to the sleeping on the couch incident. Vanderwood rolled his eyes.  “He was sick. I only warmed him up.” Really, it didn’t mean anything. But the memory still made his cheeks turn pink.
 
Seven nearly fell out of his computer chair to grin at him. “As the adult, it’s your responsibility to make sure he’s well taken care of!”
 
“What?! We’re both adults! I’m only a few years older than both of you! And we’re NOT dating!!” Seven could give painkillers a headache, he swore to God. The ex-hacker ignored him and kept saying things to push him out of the house towards his brother, making him more flustered.
 
Whatever. Forget about Seven, the chaos in the house is more important-
 
“Also, we’re out of detergent.”
 
Bloody typical.
 
***
 
Saeran made sure to fill his shopping basket full of sweets. How his brother could eat those gross chips, he would never know. Maybe he should get something healthy to avoid becoming sick again. Waking up like that was the most embarrassing thing ever. Stupid Vanderwood, who stayed calm and collected while he freaked out. Stupid brother for making fun of him. He was not in love, damn it!
 
An older woman in the next aisle kept staring at him, making him nervous. When he wanted to head to the cash register, she suddenly blocked his path.
 
“Hey cutie! You look so much like someone I know, are you perhaps-“
 
“I don’t think so.” Saeran quickly mumbled, holding the plastic basket closer to him. He tried to sidestep her, but she got closer, her gaze predatory.
 
“Hey now, I’m just making sure! Be a good boy and hold still.”
 
Something about those words made him freeze. She touched his right arm and it was as if she knew he was hiding something there under his sweater. Thoughts rushed into his head before he could stop them. All at once her eyes turned green and he was small and helpless. Images of a dark room flashed before him, remembering with the scent of iron, the touch of unwanted hands on his skin, the pain oh God make it stop please-
 
“Please stop.” He tried to yell but it barely came out a whisper. The woman didn’t notice his panic and his vision was going dark.
 
A warm arm draped around his shoulders, much broader and heavier than she could possibly be, slowly pulling him back to reality. A familiar comfortable warmth chased away the wooziness and feelings of pain. He looked to his side and saw Vanderwood who held him close, hugging him to his side.
 
“Stop hitting on my boyfriend.” He glared at her, causing the woman to let go of Saeran.
 
The invisible bubble the older man created around them made him feel safe. It was tempting to cling to his jacket, but Saeran kept his hands around the handle of the basket.
 
“Your- Ah. Erm… Sorry.” Sheepishly, the woman backed away. Another stern glare from the former agent made her run off and leave the store in a hurry. Saeran took a deep breath as his muscles relaxed.
 
“Are you alright?” Those gentle brown eyes looked at him in concern once again. Brain registering what had just happened, he jumped away from the older man, nearly dropping his basket. The temperature suddenly went up a degree or two, his face turning redder than his hair.
 
“Y-You’re NOT my boyfriend!” He screamed, causing several shoppers to stare at them.
 
Vanderwood crossed his arms and gave him a confused frown. “I know. It was the quickest thing I could think of to get her to stop. You looked like you were going to pass out.”
 
Oh. Right. That made sense. He pushed down the sad twinge he felt in his stomach.
 
“Yeah, well, I didn’t need you to help me!” He marched to the cash register in a huff, hearing Vanderwood sigh.
 
While he paid for his candy, he couldn’t help glance behind him at the taller man, who grabbed a bottle of detergent. He didn’t feel guilty. He didn’t.
 
***
 
Vanderwood did not expect to find Saeran standing next to the door when he left the store. “You waited for me?”
 
“We’re going the same way, idiot! It would be rude to let you walk alone.” The redhead snarkily replied and started walking. He blinked in confusion a few times before following suit.
 
The trek to the bunker was filled with awkward silence. Vanderwood attempted to give the young man his space by staying behind him, but to his surprise, the moment he slowed down, Saeran did as well. At some point they walked next to each other, Saeran hugging his bag close to his chest.
 
“Thanks.” It was so soft he almost thought he imagined it.
 
“You’re welcome.”
 
Saeran’s face lit up like a lighthouse. “I didn’t say anything!” He yelled, running off. Vanderwood sighed again. The redhead was moodier than anyone he had ever met.
 
But, he realized, he kind of liked it. The thought made him blush, glad no one could see it.

When they got back, Seven faced them with the biggest smile. “And? How was your date?”

And just like that, Saeran vanished from sight, running into his room and locking the door.

“SEVEN! We are NOT DATING!!”

“Lolololol~!”

9

Part 1 : Solution
Part 2 : End of Journey
Part 3 : Dinner
Part 4 : Doctor is in
Part 5 : Medical Perform
Part 6 : Restored

I’m so happy I made this series so far XD I love reading all your reaction on this comic on Instagram and Deviantart (theres mostly reblog on tumblr, thankies for that). Hope you continue enjoying this comic X3

I’m famous being bad at giving title, i might call this series Attack on Wumpa Fruit (jk).

Just Hyungwon Things

THE LIVING MEME/WALKING TURTLE LIVES. People may ask why do we call Hyungwon a living meme…I MEAN LOOK AT HIM. HE’S SO UTTERLY ADORABLE BUT ONCE YOU DO SOMETHING, HE ULTIMATELY JUDGES YOU HARD AS HELL XD. (gifs are not mine)

Originally posted by min-shookga-yoongi

Originally posted by monstaxmemes

Originally posted by momoisking

HE’S SO HANDSOME TOO, I DON’T GET IT. HIS LIPS, HIS HEIGHT, HIS SMILE, BOY GO SOMEWHERE BEFORE I HAVE A HEART ATTACK. ALL OF MONSTA X IS TOO HANDSOME, I CAN’T HANDLE IT THANKS.

Originally posted by mybabyoppa

Originally posted by dabwons

He’s such a squish. BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE, HIS VOICE?! I NEED HIM TO HAVE MORE LINES IN TITLE SONGS OR IN GENERAL, Hyungwon gets attention just by being a meme but he needs more attention for his singing voice and his singing ability. 100 percent.

Originally posted by minhyuk1

Originally posted by garisanee

Known for his outstanding looks, HE’S ALSO FATHER MATERIAL (EVEN THOUGH HE DIDN’T REALLY KNOW WHAT TO DO) DURING MONSTA X RAY, I WANTED TO TEAR UP, I HOPE THEY GET TO WORK WITH KIDS SOON CAUSE I WANNA SEE MORE DADDY MATERIAL,

Originally posted by oldbtsiscooliguess

Originally posted by wonhontology

I feel like the highlight of Hyungwon is his eyes…like I don’t even know why but I could stare at his eyes all day and then eventually space out of my day dream (CAUSE THIS IS TOO MUCH)  He’s such a caring squish and seems to always be in the background but once his part in a song comes on JUST KNOW I’M THERE SINGING WITH YA HYUNGWON, I WILL ALWAYS LOOK FOR YOU IN LIVE STAGES AND I HOPE YOU ARE FEELING MUCH BETTER <3 PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AND GET SOME REST. (Monbebe add more :D)

Originally posted by h-sh

Originally posted by chaerismatic

Originally posted by taehnwnho

Originally posted by hyungnu

Just Shownu Things

Just Wonho Things

Just Minhyuk Things

Just Kihyun Things

Just Jooheon Things

Just I.M Things

Just Monsta X Things

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN! JUST MESSAGE ME*

4

Imagine having a prank war with Brendon Urie. … Guys, I’m so done with those title things xD

The Mysterious Case of Missing Moose Items

Warnings: None. Just fluffiness
Characters: Sam & Dean Winchester, Sister Winchester Reader
Summary: You keep taking Sam’s stuff
Reader’s Age: Any
Word Count: 588(like I said it’s a drabble)

Y/N: Your Name

A/N: Wrote half of this awhile ago when I still had my laptop and I finished it a few days ago and boom here it is! Also figured y'all needed something nice and fluffy after the last imagine… Heh… Enjoy!


“Dean, have you seen my laptop?” Sam asked his brother, looking frantically around the library.

“No. Did you lose it?”

Sam gave Dean the classic Winchester bitch-face. “If I hadn’t lost it, I wouldn’t be asking you,” Sam snarked.

“Well looks like you also just lost my help,” Dean picked up his book and walked off.


Sam’s alarm clock blared in his room and startled him awake. He rolled over with a groan and shut it off. Sighing, he got up and dragged his feet, heavy with sleep, over to his dresser. Sam opened a drawer, realizing he only had two flannels left. With a confused look, Sam took one of the two flannels left and came to the conclusion that simply no one’s done the laundry in awhile.

Sam had a shower, got dressed and made his way to the library.

“Is Y/N up yet?” Sam asked once he saw Dean scrolling on his laptop, feet up on the table and leaning back in a chair.

“Not that I know of,” Dean answered, noticing Sam’s flannel. “Didn’t you wear that a few days ago?”

“I thought so too…” Sam looked down at his clothes, “All my shirts and flannels are disappearing. Has anyone done the laundry?”

“Yeah. Y/N did it yesterday,” Dean told Sam, fianlly getting into this odd mystery.

“Maybe she hasn’t brought my clothes to my room yet.” Sam said just above a whisper, but with the quiet that the Bunker always had, Dean heard.


“Dean!” Sam yelled from down the hall, peeking his head out of his bedroom door.

“What?!” Dean yelled back, not bothering to get up from his comfy spot in a chair.

“Did you take one of my books?” Sam yelled back, walking around the corner into the kitchen.

Dean called back, “Dude, I haven’t taken any of your stuff.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed together, wondering why his stuff keeps magically disappearing.

Sam’s thoughts were interrupted as he saw you waltz into the kitchen. His eyes instantly went to the flannel you were wearing, not just any flannel, his flannel.

Sam cleared his throat. “Y/N?” You turned around, giving him a silent cue to continue. “Is that my flannel?” He pointed to the giant red plaid flannel you were wearing. You looked down at it and fiddled with the soft, long sleeves.

“Uhmmm… no?” you answered, avoiding Sam’s eyes in hopes he won’t make you give them back.

“Are you the one stealing my stuff?” Sam couldn’t help the grin that wormed it’s way in.

“Okay,” you huffed in defeat. “I usually just take like one or two of your flannels, but then I kept losing them so I kept taking more…”

Sam gave you a straight and unreadable face, making you crack like an egg. “They’re comfy!” you defended, waving your hands around and the long sleeves flew around, nearly hitting a pan.

“I want my flannels back, and all the other stuff you took from me,” Sam chuckled, “but… you can keep one.

“Fine…” You pouted, shuffling back to your room to find all the hidden flannels you stole. Dean started laughing as he watched the mystery unfold.

“I don’t get why she goes after my things,” Sam chuckled.

“As long as she doesn’t take my stuff…” Dean snarked, earning an eye roll from Sam. “Y'know… Some of my blankets have been going missing- Y/N!!” Dean yelled, racing out of the kitchen after you as he heard Sam burst out laughing.

I hope y'all like this one! I’m open for tips on improving!

Tagging: @magicalsis11, @joanne-egberp, @16wiishes, @ledledledledled, @fanboyswhereare-you, @athenepallas, @sammyfrigginwinchester, @spnkisum, @xsecretrejectx, @pretty-odd-jenn, @jamies-supernatural-world, @oneshotsdeanshort, @jiggysupernatural, @jensen-jarpad, @capruinedmylife, @bea789, @beholders-chroniclers, @starswirlblitz, @of-virtuoso

(Just cause I love the title so much I gotta give cred to @20secspnfam4 who came up with it XD)