#...not the three i thought i'd end up picking lol but there ya go

[lowkeyremi]

Arranged Marriage hcs with Toji (fem reader)

AU where Toji has cursed energy and was picked by the zenin clan. (he still hates them lol) also he doesn't meet mamagumi so megu is your biological son in this au :3

note: just some quick hcs cuz i couldn't get this thought out of my head. I've seen a bunch of arranged marriage satoru related things but I thought I'd switch it up. mentions of pregnancy

Arrangedhusband!Toji hates his family and refuses to get married just to fuck them over. (they want an heir)

Arrangedhusband!Toji who goes on a complete rampage when the news about his soon to be marriage finally reaches him through hushed whispers of some maids.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who immediately goes to see Naobito, former head of the Zenin Clan to ask what the fuck is going on.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who is enraged when he hears "you were given the opportunity to settle down yourself, but you didn't so we took matters into our own hands."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who requests to not have a wedding, he'll just sign the damn papers and get it over with.

Arrangedhusband!Toji doesn't visit you for at least a week upon your arrival. He's still pissed.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who finally decides to go visit you, he knocks on your door. You were given your own room to adjust to everything even though Naobito wanted you to be with Toji.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who's shocked when Mai opens the door and he sees you getting your hair done by Maki. The twins decorated your hair with a bunch of different flowers. (they're like maybe 10 in this)

Arrangedhusband!Toji who just stares at you. He doesn't say a word because he doesn't really know what to say. He didn't even know what you looked like until right now.

Arrangedhusband!Toji snaps out of his trance when you break the silence. "Good morning, Toji. It's nice to finally meet you." He catches on to your attitude at the end of your sentence and he doesn't even realize his lip quirking upward. Here he was thinking you'd be some damsel in distress, but it turns out you're pretty confident.

Arrangedhusband!Toji responds with "Uh, hey.." Is that the best he could come up with? You've left him at a loss for words.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who tries to get his shit together and deepens his voice to try and intimidate you a little. "Mornin', [name]. I'll send some maids over this way later. You are to accompany me for dinner tonight."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who hides a growing smile when you say, "Taking me on a first date after getting married? I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be the other way around."

Arrangedhusband!Toji sits at the table waiting for your arrival. After seeing you he wanted to spend some alone time getting to know you, but his mother insisted on throwing a proper welcome dinner with the whole family.

Arrangedhusband!Toji requested that you sit right next to him. When you arrive someone ushers you to your seat. He whispers quietly enough for only you to hear, "being late to a family dinner isn't a good look for ya, pretty."

"well, excuse me for getting lost like three times." you say with a roll of your eyes. Naobito clears his throat, and Toji sighs.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who mumbles "thank you for the food." so everyone could start eating. He gets a little defensive when Naobito bombards you with questions, "I hope you are settling in well, but I'll get straight to business. When do you think you'll be ready to bear a child?"

Arrangedhusband!Toji who gets ready to speak up for you but you quickly cut him off, "Not anytime soon, sir. No offense. I just met your nephew today. I did not come here to be bred like some dog. I came here to settle the dispute between our families." Everyone is shocked by your words. You just told off the former head of the clan..

Arrangedhusband!Toji is proud of you. "I agree with her." Naobito gives him a sour look before responding, "Toji, you need to get a better hold on your woman. She should have some manners."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who gets up from the table and hauls you over his shoulder. It's embarrassing to say the least but neither of you speak a word until you're far enough away.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who sets you down, a smirk prominent on his face, "That was so bad ass. No one's ever spoke to him that way."

"Really? Not even you? That's surprising, you seem like the rebellious type."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who really starts to grow on you. He follows you everywhere and he learns something new about you every day, as do you too. He never restricts your freedom and supports many of your actions.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who will even spar with you sometimes when you're looking to improve.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who feels his heart swell a little bit when you kiss him. He's never felt anything like this before, and he doesn't want to admit that he'll get used to it.

Arrangedhusband!Toji invites you to finally move into his own bedroom, since "we've been married for a few months now."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who likes seeing your stuff alongside his in his room.

Arrangedhusband!Toji feels happier than he has in years. All his family wanted to do was train him to perfection and treat 'worthless' women like shit. He didn't want any of that though. So he sees you as a blessing in disguise.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who itches to give you a baby after seeing how you are around his twin cousins. You're gentle, but you never forget to scold them when they get into trouble.

Arrangedhusband!Toji after your second year anniversary brings up the idea to you, "Not for the selfish reasons my uncle wants. Just for us. We could even live somewhere else." You two are sitting in your shared bedroom. His eyes tell no lies, "What do you mean by live somewhere else? I don't think it matters how far we go, baby. If Naobito catches wind of a potential Zenin heir he'll track us down."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who assures you he could take care of this situation, if you wanted to have a baby. He doesn't want his future child/children to have to go through the same abuse he went through.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who doesn't know that you're already a month or two pregnant.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who has one of his "friends" come get you to take you to your new home. "Toji, you should come with me. I don't think this is a good idea."

"I'll see you in a day or two. I love you, baby. Gojo, no funny business or I'll fuck you up." He threatens.

"Are you doubting me, my dear friend? I wouldn't let anything happen to your precious wife." Toji flip him off. You watch as his figure gets smaller and smaller until you can't see him anymore. (they're frenemies in this au)

Arrangedhusband!Toji who immobilizes his uncle, which takes great effort. He doesn't come out fully unscathed. He's okay, though. He's doing it for his and your future.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who utters something to Naobito before leaving the Zenin clan, "I don't ever want to see your face again, you old geezer. Don't ever come looking for me or my wife, because the next time we meet, I'll kill you."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who knocks on the door of your new apartment and is relieved to see that you're just how he left you.

You gasp at his beat up stature and you sit him down to clean him up.

"They'll never bother us again." He mutters and he sees you smile a little bit.

"I'll miss the twins," you say with a little sigh. He moves his big hand to cup your face as you are trying to wipe the blood off of his, "You've taught them plenty. I'm sure they'll follow our path and make it out of the clan sooner or later."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who is thrilled when you tell him you're pregnant.

Arrangedhusband!Toji goes to extreme lengths to protect you and you have to remind him you can still accomplish things on your own.

Arrangedhusband!Toji Husband!Toji who has both your last names changed to Fushiguro to help hide his identity. You actually debated with him about this.

"Toji, you literally just chose the first name you saw on a site of Japanese last names. We need to put thought into it."

"Oh come on baby, you gotta admit Toji Fushiguro sounds better than Toji Zenin." He never fails to find a lazy way out of things.

Husband!Toji who lets a single tear fall from his eye when he sees you cradling your little boy.

"He looks just like you." You grumble playfully and his lips quirk up into a smirk, "Eh what can I say? He got the good genes."

You fight the urge to hit him with a pillow.

Husband!Toji tells the nurse the name you two agreed on for your son, "Megumi Fushiguro."

Husband!Toji who always gets scolded by you for using bad words around your son.

"Fuck!" Megumi yells when he colors outside of the line. Your head whips around so fast and Toji looks away.

"Gumi! Don't say that. That is a very bad word." You tell him. He tilts his head to the side, "Well Dad says them."

"Does he now? I'm pretty sure Dad knows he shouldn't say those words." After a minute Toji thinks he's in the clear so he turns his head back to see you glaring at him.

"I won't do it again." He hears you mumble 'liar.'

Husband!Toji who's mad that despite his looks, his son is a complete mama's boy. "Hey kid, wanna head to the park for a little 'while?"

"Can mama come?" Your husband grunts.

"Nah, it'll just be me and you. Father and son." He says with a grin hoping to bait him.

Megumi goes back to his video he's watching. With an uninterested tone he responds, "Oh, then I don't wanna go."

He rolls his eyes and walks away, "Well whatever."

Husband!Toji who decided he wants a do over, and gives you the proper wedding you deserve.

Husband!Toji who loves you and his son very much. He couldn't have asked for anything better than this. You are his blessing.

tagging @blkkizzat bc this is her man LMAO

[spaceyflowerswriting]

pt 2/4: little changes (gun park x reader)

...except the main character is goo and reader only plays a role in little dialogue. hear me out.

(pt 1)

details: fluffy oneshot, gender neutral reader written in 2nd pov, general canon au, you and gun have been dating for a while in secret

summary: goo starts to notice little changes in gun, influenced by you. the thing is, gun is keeping his relationship on the low, so here are goo's antics of being annoying and trying to find out who you are.

warning: one part of these moments has implications of gun and reader in bed!

a/n: i dont rmbr how i got this information but at the time i wrote this, i heard gun couldn't drive so... yeah lol

(ironically i forgot gun's first appearance is him literally driving crystal around. but tbh, just bc i think its funny, i wanna keep it a headcanon that he can't drive LMAO)

×

"Make sure you don't text and drive."

"Hah, how old do you think I am?"

"Just saying! You text often on your travels so I wanna make sure."

"Don't worry, I always make my coworker drive."

. . .

The red stop light finally gave Goo a chance to snap his neck towards the passenger seat where Gun sat.

"Must be so nice to just sit there, huh?"

"Eyes on the road," Gun replied flatly, his gaze still glued to his phone. Nearly the entire ride he had his eyes on it. And it looked like he was texting.

Suddenly curious, Goo acknowledged Gun's comment with, "We're at a stoplight, dumbass," and then asked, "Who's so important you can't stop texting them?"

"Why is that the assumption?"

Goo scrunched a brow, lips twisting into a frown. "What does that mean?"

"I could be typing notes in my phone."

"Stop bullshitting, you and I never take notes."

For a second Gun looked like he was going to admit Goo was right, but then he just looked up and said, "The light's green again."

Goo looked back in front of him, only to see a red light. He deadpanned and turned back to Gun, staring down at his phone.

"Seriously, who're you texting? I've driven your ass around for twenty minutes and you've done nothing but stare and text on your phone."

"That's none of your business. How close are we to our destination?"

Goo tsked and sucked in a breath of sharp air, bringing his eyes to the road. "Almost there."

"Alright."

There was a pause as the light actually turned green this time and Goo pushed down on the pedal, pushing the driving limit like he always did. He decided to keep bothering Gun in the meanwhile.

"I know you're not texting the boss, he'd rather call you, and he only talks to us for business reasons. I'd guess it's also probably not Crystal since your conversations with her are always short and to the point. And you don't have any friends. Just who are you texting?" He kept on rambling his thoughts out loud, while Gun sat silently.

When Goo eventually gave up, he suggested Gun drive sometimes so he could just be on his phone for twenty minutes.

"I got Candy Crush levels to beat, ya know."

"You won't be alive to beat them if you allow me to drive."

Memories of a burning car with him and Gun standing in front of them flashed in Goo's mind three times--a different car each time--and he nodded.

"I don't know how you can fight a seven nation army but can't drive a car."

"That's a mystery to me, too."

Goo wanted to facepalm.

~

"That selection of jewelry looks so nice."

"You know you can buy it, right? My card is yours."

"No, Gun, we are not doing this again. Last time you let me use your card you ended up nearly buying the entire store for me."

"Hmph."

. . .

"Rubies, eh?" Goo held up the necklace he picked up, embedded with emeralds. He glanced back and forth between it and the ruby necklace Gun was holding. "You buying a necklace?"

"No, I don't like jewelry."

"The hell are you doing here then?"

"I'm buying a gift."

Goo snorted. "Very funny, now tell me the truth."

Gun stared through his sunglasses, not a single muscle moving on his face.

"Oh?" Goo leaned in, staring more closely at Gun's face like there was some hidden movement of an expression change or something. "Who's it for, huh? I didn't think you'd be the type to buy jewelry for someone."

"I'm buying it for someone special to me," Gun answered surprisingly honestly, leaving Goo flabbergasted for a moment.

"Uh." He leaned back to compose himself, adjusting his glasses. "First off, that's so cringe. Secondly, you actually have a friend?" Or maybe a lover or crush? Usually that's what someone special meant. Still seemed unbelievable, but just in case, Goo added in, "...Or something?"

Gun made a slight smirk. "I'm not incapable of creating bonds."

Goo shivered. "Ew, why do you always talk like an alien? Just say you made a friend." He followed Gun as the latter turned away to look at bracelets. "Who'd you become friends with? Some new successor you're trying to impress through jewelry?"

"When have I ever done that? Of course not."

"Then who?"

"Does my personal life matter to you?"

Goo swatted at his shoulder. "I could care less, but you've got me curious now. Who's this 'special someone' to you?"

"Stay curious," simply said Gun, picking up bracelets with his free hand and comparing them to the necklace in his other hand.

"Ugh."

Fine, Goo didn't care. It was probably some one night stand Gun just really liked the work of and wanted to keep around.

Actually... Gun had never said anyone was special to him before. It was cringey to hear him say that before like Goo stated, but now curiosity grew in him. What could it mean...?

~

"Oh, shit! I just remembered your meeting!"

"Damn, I lost track of time."

"It's fine, we both did, now hurry!"

. . .

Mr. Choi strummed his fingers across the table, not hiding his annoyance. "Gun, late again?" he questioned, Goo snickering.

Gun bowed his head slightly. "You called in a sudden meeting. I apologize for not being prepared, sir."

Goo was sitting leaned back in his chair, feet kicked up on the table. "Why do you look like a mess?"

Gun straightened up, finishing buttoning his shirt up and running a hand through his hair. His tone was much more sharper when replying to Goo. "I just said I apologize for being unprepared."

"So? It's late at night, what were you doing? Lounging around and being messy?" joked Goo.

Mr. Choi narrowed his eyes. "Or did you just come back from 'messing around?'"

Goo's jaw dropped when Gun's head slightly lowered once more.

"You youngsters..." Mr. Choi pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No fucking way!" Goo immediately started cackling as he leaned back, nearly falling from his chair. He moved to sit properly while giggling in between. "Sorry we interrupted your little fun~"

Gun ignored him and just mumbled an apology when Mr. Choi lectured him with, "I know you're an adult with the freedom to do as you wish, but don't be so careless by losing track of time."

The meeting began right after that, and Goo listened, of course. But he couldn't help but be mildly distracted by thoughts about the person Gun was "messing around with." Did they really do him so good he would lose track of time? Or did this person matter more to him than this meeting so he stayed back a little?

Probably the first, and it was also funnier if it was true. If the second was true though, that'd be interesting. Still kind of funny, though... Goo felt like he could never imagine Gun getting emotionally invested in anyone.

~

"Have fun at the party!"

"Ugh, I don't even want to go... promise me you'll still be here if I come back early. Which I probably will."

"Pft, sure."

. . .

Goo had a little too much to drink during this party. But he was having fun so who cares?

While chatting up some people, he saw Gun walking away to the exit of the room and ran after him, leaving the people he was talking to confused. He wrapped an arm around Gun's shoulder once he caught up, slurring, "Where're you going, huuuh~?" Gun shrugged him off but Goo just moved to hug his arm instead. "The party just began!"

"Ugh." Gun pulled his arm out of Goo's grasp. "I don't like parties like these."

"But you never leave this early! Come on, there's more to drink and eat!"

Gun sighed and looked around until he spotted a certain someone. "Crystal!"

"Hm?" She looked over at him, pausing from grabbing snacks at the tables.

"Keep this guy busy."

"What?" Gun was already sprinting away. Crystal started shouting, "Gun! GUN!! YOU ASSHOLE!!"

"Where's he going?" Goo wailed, heading to Crystal to lean onto her. "It's like he's sneaking away to see someone!"

Crystal shoved Goo away (or attempted to, because he kept falling on her like he didn't have a skeleton), saying something under her breath as she shook her head.

Goo didn't hear, and even if he did, he probably wouldn't remember tomorrow morning anyways.

[bored-writer101]

Sam Winchester X Reader|Supernatural Rewrite|1.Pilot

A/N: well, the time has finally come. i’m finally posting my supernatural rewrite😂 huge shoutout to @uncouth-the-fifth for inspiring me (she also has a supernatural rewrite that is absolutely phenomenal that you guys should definitely go check out). i’ve been trying to start a rewrite basically ever since i started writing fanfic for this show, but it has never worked out. but i’ve finally figured it out! (kinda lol, i’m doing my best😂😭). i hope you all enjoy! (i wrote this with female reader in mind but i use gender neutral pronouns) {also here’s a supernatural themed spotify playlist if y’all want a soundtrack while you listen <3}

Words: 13,673

Series Masterlist

(image from pinterest)

SIOUX FALLS, SOUTH DAKOTA | October 31st, 2005

"Dad? Are you okay? Dad, please wake up! Dad!"

You jolted upright in bed, panting as you tried to catch your breath and calm yourself down. You didn't get much of a chance to do that though. Your phone began to ring loudly from your bedside table, making you flinch. You reached out and fumbled around in the darkness for a few seconds before your fingers wrapped around the cold metal. You used your thumb to flip it open and held it up to your ear.

"Hello?" you could hear the shake in your own voice.

"Are you alright? Did I call at a bad time?" you immediately recognized the voice on the other end.

"I'm alright, Dean. I just had a nightmare, that's all."

"The usual one?"

"Mhm," you hummed in response.

"Well, we can do all our usual remedies after I pick you up," you could hear in his voice that he had a huge grin on his face.

"What? I thought you were in New Orleans?"

"I was. I had been waitin' on my dad, but he never showed. I haven't been able to get a hold of him for a few weeks," Dean told you.

"So? There were plenty of times that we weren't able to get a hold of him on a hunt when we were kids," you said, skeptical that John was truly missing.

John had always been one to drink a few too many in celebration of a hunt well done. You, Sam, and Dean would think something terrible had happened to him, but he would eventually stumble back in a few weeks later. The longest he had left the three of you alone was almost three months. Bobby stopped letting John take you on hunts after he found out about that.

"This is different. Somethin's happened, somethin' bad, if he's not dead already. I can feel it."

"Are you sure he's not just out on another bender?" you asked, disbelief evident in your tone.

"I'm sure, Y/N. I can explain more after I pick you up. Please, I need you to trust me on this," Dean pleaded through the phone.

You were hesitant to say yes. Usually you'd hop at the chance to go on a hunt with Dean, but this was different. You could hear in his voice that Dean believed that John was missing, and that he was worried. You trusted Dean, but you didn't trust his father. It could be another one of his 'hunter trials' to test if you were worthy to be hunters. He hadn't orchestrated one of those in a long time, but maybe that meant you were due for another one.

"Y/N? You still there?" Dean asked when you didn't respond.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm still here. Just thinkin'."

"Ya' really gotta think that hard about it?"

There was another moment of silence while you desperately tried and failed to find the words. You had so many thoughts swirling in your mind that you didn't even know where to start. Before you could complain that you had just woken up, Dean's voice was in your ear again.

"Come on, Y/N," he was not helping you think.

"Fine! I'll come with you," you relented, giving in to the sad puppy dog eyes you couldn't see, but you knew he was doing.

"Well, good... Because I'm only an hour and a half away," you heard him chuckle, and you decided you were going to smack him upside the head when he got here.

"And what were you gonna do if I said no?" you questioned.

"Kidnap you. Obviously."

"Like I'd let you."

"Whatever you say, kid," he said with a chuckle. "Just be packed and ready, alright?"

"Whatever you say, boss," you mocked him playfully, "See you when you get here."

"See you when I get there," he said, ignoring your teasing.

You heard the click of the call ending, then silence. You were frozen in place at first, and the memories of your nightmare came flooding back; your father's eyes closing and never opening again... You shook your head free of the image before finally dropping your hand holding the phone into your lap. The light from the still open screen hurt your eyes as they tried to adjust to the sudden light. You sat there for a few more seconds before pushing the covers off and forcing yourself out of bed. You got dressed in comfy clothes, knowing that you'd be spending a lot of time curled up in the passenger seat of the impala.

You tried to be quiet as you crept around the house, but you should have known better than to try and sneak around a hunter's home. You were leaned down in front of the open fridge, thinking of what to write on the 'see you later' note you were going to leave behind, when you heard someone clear their throat. You stood up straight and spun around quickly to face them. Bobby had his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at you with a deep frown, and furrowed brows that made the creases in his forehead all too prominent.

"Good morning?" you said hesitantly.

"Where are you going?" Bobby asked; he had never been one for nuance.

"Um, out on a hunt," you told him with a little more confidence than before.

Even though you were twenty three, Bobby's gaze made you feel like you were sixteen again. It made you feel as if you were sneaking out to meet Sam and Dean for a late night joyride in whatever rust bucket that Dean had found(hot wired). You knew Bobby wasn't going to stop you from going, but you still didn't want to piss him off before you left. You weren't sure when you'd be back.

"Dean picking you up?" he asked, his tone a bit softer than before, but he was still frowning.

You nodded at his question, "he should be here soon."

"Alright, well, just promise me you'll be careful. And that you won't let Dean talk you into anything stupid," Bobby wagged his pointer finger at you as he said this.

"I'm always careful," you told him, even if that wasn't entirely truthful, but you'd say anything to reassure Bobby you'd be alright; the last thing you wanted him to do was worry his head off, "also I'm usually the one talking Dean out of doing anything stupid," this statement had a little more truth to it.

Bobby didn't look convinced. Not that he ever did, but you didn't want to leave him annoyed with you. You took a couple steps forward and wrapped your arms around him in a sudden hug. It didn't take long before Bobby hugged you back, squeezing you tight.

"I love you, dad. I'll be back before you know it."

Bobby sighed deeply, "I love you too, kiddo," he said before placing a kiss on the top of your head.

Bobby wasn't your biological father, but he had stepped up and been your dad for over a decade. Any other day, he would have scolded you for calling him dad. He would tell you it isn't fair to your father, that you shouldn't try to forget or replace him. You always reassured him you would never forget though. What you don't tell him is that you'll never be able to forget the image of father dying in your arms as you beg for him to keep his eyes open. Before you could dwell on the dark memory for too long, you heard a short honk of a car horn outside. You pulled away and stood up straight in front of Bobby, raising a brow at him as if to silently ask, 'you gonna be alright?'

"Just go. Don't forget to call every once in a while so I know you're still alive" Bobby gestured toward the door.

"I will," you said as you walked to the front door, picking your duffel bag up off the floor, "bye, Bobby," you turned and waved to him with a smile, opting to not call him dad this time.

"Bye, Y/N," he waved back halfheartedly.

You turned back and headed out the front door, a rush of cold air biting at your exposed skin. If you were gone long enough, there would surely be a thick blanket of snow covering the junk yard by the time you got back. You noticed the impala in the driveway before looking up at the sky. You shut the door behind you as you admired the fiery shades of red and orange that were painted across the sky by the sunrise. You admired it for a moment before stepping down the porch steps. The gravel crunched under your boots as you walked over to the passenger side of the impala. You opened the back door and threw duffel bag in before getting into the passenger seat.

"Morning," you said to Dean once you had plopped down.

"Mornin'," he replied, wasting no time in pulling out of the driveway and back onto the road, gravel crunching loudly under the tires all the while, "I brought you some breakfast," he pointed to the fast food bag sitting on the seat next to you.

"Thanks," you mumbled as you grabbed the bag and pulled out the breakfast sandwich Dean had ordered for you.

You unwrapped your food and ate silently, the only sound coming from the Bob Seger tape that was playing softly through the speakers. You recognized the song to be Against The Wind. You thought back to the last time you saw Dean, and you realized it had been a few months. You kept in touch over the phone the best you could, but he had never been good at that, and you weren't much better. The last time you had seen him was about four months ago. You had gotten into a fight over John. Most of your fights revolved around him. It had been a simple misunderstanding during a hunt that made John flip his shit, and you were never one to take shit from him. Dean had barely made a move to defend you, and it hurt. He had apologized to you later, but it had been a Winchester style apology; a halfhearted one. You couldn't help but remember that fight now. Dean cleared his throat loudly, pulling you out of your thoughts. His thumbs drummed against the steering wheel has he hummed along to the music. You crumpled up the sandwich paper and threw it in the bag.

"So, we have a few stops to make," he told you with a grin, obviously trying to diffuse the building tension.

"Oh, yeah?" you replied, raising a questioning brow at him.

"Yeah, the first being a gas station. You can pick out some snacks for our drive."

"Good, because you always grab barbecue chips," you complained teasingly.

"What's wrong with a little BBQ?" he said, enunciating each letter in 'BBQ.'

"There's nothing necessarily wrong with barbecue, but eating them for every road trip can get a little boring."

"Fair enough. You still have to grab me a bag of them though."

"Yeah, will do."

Dean pulled off the main road and into the gas station parking lot. He pulled up to a gas pump and turned off the engine. He took out a few fives from his wallet and handed them to you. You said a quiet 'thanks' before you both climbed out of the impala.

"Don't forget my BBQ!" Dean called after you as you headed into the convenience store while he went to the gas pump.

It was only a few minutes before the two of you were back in your seats. You handed Dean his barbecue chips and a root beer before dropping your own snacks in your lap. Dean tore into his chips like a hungry bear, grabbing a handful and stuffing it into his mouth. You couldn't help but laugh at him as you opened your own snack.

"So, you gonna tell me why you think John is missing?" you asked, once he had chewed and swallowed.

"I know he's missing. He was hunting something that was killing men, and he left me a concerning voicemail that had some EVP," he explained, "I can let you listen to it when we get to our next destination," you furrowed your brows at his words, but you had a sudden realization.

"You wanna pick up Sam," you said simply.

Dean looked over at you with wide eyes, "how'd you know? You read my mind or somethin'?"

"We're gonna be in California, and we're gonna pass his place anyway. Just an educated guess," you shrugged, "also I'm not a mind reader, I'm a medium," you added.

"It's all the same to me," Dean said with a shrug as he started the impala and pulled out of the gas station; you decided not to lecture him on the differences between psychics and mediums.

"What if he says no?" you asked the question on both your minds after a few moments of silence.

Dean didn't respond, but you knew he had heard you. You looked over to see him expressionless, staring out at the open road.

"Dean?"

"You sure you're not a mind reader?" he tried to joke to change the subject, but you didn't laugh, and he frowned at your furrowed brows, "he won't. Dad's missing and we need his help. He has to say yes," you wondered how many time he had told himself that.

You were at an impasse, which frequently happened when you had to get in the middle of Winchester family drama. A part of you didn't want Sam to say yes. You knew he wanted to give up hunting for good, and you didn't blame him. You only wanted what was best for him, but there was another part of you that wanted him to say yes. You missed him every day. You tried to tell yourself you weren't pulling him all the way back into hunting, that you were just looking for John. A small voice in the back of your head knew better though. You knew this life loved to sink its claws in and never let go. Only a lucky few were able to fully detach themselves from the hunting lifestyle. Even then, it was impossible to scrub the stain of the hunting life off your hands. You weren't sure which answer you wanted Sam to give.

You and Dean sat in silence for awhile, both caught up in your own thoughts. You glanced over at Dean as the song that was playing came to an end. You took in Dean's tense posture, and how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel. You recognized the beginning of Black Dog by Led Zeppelin playing quietly through the speakers, and you immediately reached out to turn it up. You were the only person Dean allowed to touch his radio. You rested your arm on the back of the seat and leaned your body into his side slightly.

"Hey hey mama said the way you move. Gonna make you sweat, gonna make you groove," you sang along loudly into his ear.

You played the air guitar and you saw Dean glance at you from the corner of his eye. You could see him trying to hide his smirk.

"Ah, ah, child, way you shake that thang. Gonna make you burn gonna make you sting," you continued to sing along, gently nudging Dean's side with your elbow.

You saw him start to drum his thumbs against the steering wheel along to the beat as you continued to play air guitar.

"Hey hey baby when you walk that way. Watch your honey drip, can't keep away," you and Dean sang in unison.

You sang along to the rest of the song together. You occasionally played air guitar while Dean pretended to play the drums; you had to remind him to put his hands back on the wheel a few times. The song eventually came to an end, and the next song began playing. Dean reached out and turned it down slightly.

"I missed that," you said with a smile.

"Oh, don't get all sappy on me now," he said with a groan.

"What? No 'chick flick moments'?" you said sarcastically, making air quotes.

"Yeah, exactly. No chick flick moments," Dean repeated seriously.

"Whatever you say... Jackass," you said quietly with a smirk.

"Shithead," Dean was quick with his comeback, and he reached over to pinch your side, but you quickly swatted his hand away while laughing.

There wasn't much tension between you to begin with, but the little bit that had been there faded away with the end of the song. The rest of the long ride was filled with boring games of eye spy and spotting out of state license plates. You were glad to be in the impala with Dean again. You wished it was under better circumstances, but you were excited to see Sam again too.

PALO ALTO, CALIFORNIA

The sun had long since set by the time you arrived at Sam's apartment building. You had your window rolled down, the humid California night air made your exposed skin feel sticky, but you enjoyed the breeze. Dean pulled into the parking lot and parked up close to the front door of the building. You both unbuckled your seatbelts, but he put his hand out to stop you from opening your door.

"I'll go get him," he said with a mischievous grin on his face, so you nodded and sat back in your seat, "I'll be quick," he said before hopping out of the impala.

You watched Dean creep up to the front door of the building before he slinked inside and out of view. You leaned out of your open window to take in a deep breath of fresh air. It wasn't a great time to be alone with your thoughts, since all you could think about was that you were seeing Sam again after two years. You had kept in touch over the phone, but it wasn't the same as meeting up in person. Living almost across the country from each made it hard to hang out. At least that's what you told yourself. Sam had asked you to come visit a few months ago, but you had declined. You didn't think you'd be able to face him alone.

You didn't have to be left alone for long though. Before you knew it, you could hear the distant sounds of the brothers bickering. You knew those sounds all too well. You could hear them arguing about something, but you couldn't make you any words. You were about to yell at them to come out when the door finally opened. Dean came out first, Sam following close behind. Sam was gesturing wildly with his arms as he spoke, and Dean rolled his eyes. You opened the door and stepped out of the impala, causing both of them to turn and look at you.

"Y/N?" Sam uttered the moment he saw you.

You smiled wide as you shut the passenger door and started walking towards him. It only took Sam a few strides to meet you in the middle with open arms. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight and almost lifting you up off the ground. You stood on your tip toes and hugged him back just as tight, cherishing your first hug after two years apart.

"It's so good to see you," Sam said before pulling away; his smile was gentle and sweet, and you forgot how much you had missed those dimples of his.

"I didn't get a hug when I picked you up," you heard Dean mumble from behind you.

You turned away from Sam to face him. He was stood there pouting slightly with his arms crossed over his chest. You shook your head with an amused smile.

"Oh, sorry Dean. Did you want a hug? I can give you one too," you said a bit teasingly, but only because no matter what answer he gave, you were hugging him.

"No, it's fine-" you had your arms wrapped around his middle before he could finish speaking.

You hugged him tight, and he wrapped his arms loosely around you. He gave you a quick squeeze before patting you softly on the back. You pulled away and he shook his head at you with a small smile before turning towards the trunk.

"Anyway," he mumbled before popping the trunk and lifting the spare tire hatch inside to reveal all his hunting equipment, "where the hell did I put that thing?" he said to himself as he rummaged around the trunk.

"So, when dad left, why didn't you go with him?" Sam asked as he leaned against the side of the impala to watch Dean rifle through the disorganized mess.

"I was workin' my own gig. This voodoo thing down in New Orleans" Dean replied without looking up.

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?" Sam asked, incredulously.

"I'm 26, dude," Dean deadpanned, and you laughed.

Sam looked over at you with raised brows, which made you laugh even harder, "shut up, both o' ya's. Alright, found it," Dean picked up a small manila folder and pulled a small stack of papers out.

"Dad was checking out this two lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy-" Dean handed Sam a piece of paper off the top of the stack; Sam took it and held it out for both of you to see, "they found his car but he'd vanished; completely M.I.A.," there was a photo of a middle aged man next to an article about his disappearance.

"Maybe he was kidnapped?" Sam suggested.

"Kidnapped by a ghost maybe," you joked as you nudged Sam with your elbow.

"Yeah, here's another one in April, another one in December '04, '03, '98, '92," Dean slid a paper off the stack for each year he said, "ten of 'em over the past twenty years," he reached out and snatched the paper from Sam's hand, throwing it back on the stack, "all men, all same 5 mile stretch of road. Started happening more and more, so dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough, and then I get this voicemail yesterday."

Dean reached out and grabbed a tape recorder from off the top of the mess. He pressed play and you could hear John's voice come through the speaker, but it was staticky and garbled.

"Dean.... something-starting to happen...-think it's serious... I need t-... figure out what's going on... Be very careful, Dean.... We're all in danger...," a chill went up your spine as you listened to the message.

"You know there's EVP on that?," Sam said the moment Dean pressed pause.

"Not bad, Sammy. Kind of like riding a bike, isn't it?" Dean said with an amused smirk, and Sam only shook his head at him.

You couldn't focus on their banter, because you knew what was coming next. You stared expectantly down at the tape recorder in Dean's hand. You saw him glance at you in your peripheral.

"You think you'll be able to get anything from a recording?" Dean asked. 

"I might get something, we'll just have to see," you replied with a shrug.

"Alright," Dean said before pressing play again.

"I can never go home..." a woman whispered through the static, and you felt another chill up your spine, but this time it was accompanied by a wave of grief and intense anger.

Your hands gripped the edge of the trunk so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Dean looked over at you expectantly but you shook your head at him.

"Nothing helpful," you muttered as you continued to shake your head back and forth, trying to shake away the invasive feelings.

"It's alright," Dean reached out and rubbed your back soothingly for a moment before tossing the tape recorder back into the trunk.

Sam quickly took Dean's place as he wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulders and rubbed your bicep gently. Dean closed the trunk and stood up tall. He looked up at Sam expectantly, who only sighed deeply. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your cheek.

"Alright. I'll go," Sam said finally, "I'll help you find him, but I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here," he let his arm fall from around your shoulders and you shivered at the loss of his warmth.

"What's first thing Monday?" Dean asked as Sam turned to head back to his apartment.

"I have an interview," Sam said simply as he turned back to look at Dean.

"What, a job interview? Skip it."

"It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate" Sam explained slowly.

"Law school?" Dean asked with a questioning smirk.

"We got a deal or not?" Sam asked, ignoring Dean's question.

"Yeah, fine," Dean said after a moment of silence, and you noticed him clench his jaw in annoyance.

Sam nodded and turned to head back into his apartment building. Dean sat on the closed trunk and looked over at you with furrowed brows.

"Did you know about this law school thing?" he asked you.

"Yeah, I did," you told him, honestly.

"You guys talk regularly or something?" you heard a tinge of jealousy in his tone.

"Not all that regularly. We just update each other on major life events occasionally," that wasn't entirely true, but you'd rather not have to sit in a car with the brothers being silently angry at each other.

Dean didn't say anything else, instead he looked down at the ground and nudged a rock with his shoe. You knew Sam and Dean hadn't talked since Sam had left for college. Dean missed his little brother, and you didn't blame him. You just wanted to smack him upside the head for being so stubborn. He certainly wasn't the only Winchester you wanted to knock some sense into.

Sam came back down a few minutes later, emerging from the door of his apartment building carrying a duffel bag that mirrored your own. He tossed his in the trunk as you opened the door to the backseat. Dean furrowed his brows in confusion as he opened the drivers door.

"You don't want shotgun? You had it first, you're welcome to it."

"Nah, I'm alright. Sam always gets shotgun anyway," you said, and Sam shot you a grateful look.

You smiled back at him before getting into the backseat. You pushed your duffel bag to the floor, then you slid to sit in the middle seat, like you always did when it was the three of you. The brothers got into their respective seats before Dean started the impala.

"Alright, get comfortable kids," Dean said as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

A FEW MILES OUTSIDE JERICHO, CALIFORNIA

Your eyes fluttered open to the sound of a car door opening and closing. You blinked rapidly as you tried to let your eyes adjust to the sudden light. You lifted your head up off your makeshift pillow that you had made from your balled up jacket. You rubbed your sore neck as you cursed yourself for forgetting a spare blanket or pillow. You somehow always forgot to bring one.

You looked around at the scenery outside the impala. Not that there was much scenery to speak of. It was a clear day, no clouds to block the sun's warm rays. You turned to your left to see a rickety old convenience store, then turned to the right to see a couple gas pumps that looked like they had seen better days. Sam had his door propped open with his foot as he went through Dean's box of cassette tapes that sat on his lap. You could imagine the disgusted face he was making at all of Dean's classic rock tapes. The warm breeze felt refreshing as you worked on waking up.

"Hey," you heard Dean call out, and you turned to your right to see him through the window, "you want breakfast?" he asked Sam, holding up a few beef sticks and a bag of chips; your stomach growled as you saw the food in his hands.

"No, thanks," Sam said, shaking his head before going back to the box of tapes, "so, how'd you pay for that stuff? You and dad still running credit card scams?" Sam called out to Dean.

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career," Dean replied as he placed the nozzle back in the gas pump.

"You guys probably shouldn't be talking so loud about hunting and credit card scams," you said, loud enough so Dean could hear from outside the car.

The drivers side door opened a moment later and Dean climbed inside, continuing to talk loudly, having not heard or cared about your advice. You looked around and realized there didn't seem to be anyone else at the gas station. You just hoped the clerk didn't hear Dean's noisy confession.

"Y'know, all we do is apply for the cards. It's not our fault they send 'em."

You rolled your eyes at him. He set a soda down in the cup holder, and you reached out and snatched a beef stick from his hand. Dean silently handed you a bottle of water that you hadn't even seen him holding. You took it gratefully before setting it down next to you so you could rip open the wrapper of the beef stick.

"What names did you write on the application this time?" Sam asked, a bit quieter, taking your advice as he swung his long legs back into the car and pulled the door shut.

"Uh, Burt Aframian. And his son Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal," Dean said as he turned the keys in the ignition.

"That sounds about right," Sam said before looking back down at the box of cassette tapes in his lap, "I swear, man. You've gotta update your cassette tape collection," he said with a sigh.

"Why?" you almost laughed at how defensive Dean sounded.

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two-" Sam paused, grabbing a cassette and holding it up, "Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" he held up a cassette for each band he named, "it's the greatest hits of mullet rock," you were a little offended, considering the fact that you loved those bands too, but you knew Sam was only teasing Dean.

"House rules, Sammy," Dean grabbed the Metallica tape from Sam's hand, "driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole," you couldn't stop your laughter as Dean slotted the tape into the radio and pressed play.

Dean dropped the cassette case back in the box before he reached out and snatched the box from Sam. He tossed it back to you. You caught it with ease, setting it in the seat next to you. You smiled at the masking tape labels and crude handwriting on a majority of them. You spotted one that read 'Happy 21st B-Day D!' and it made you smile.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," Sam started, ignoring your giggles as he turned to Dean, "it's Sam, okay?" he demanded, but in a gentle way that only he could manage.

The music had already began to play, Battery playing softly through the speakers. Dean reached out and slowly turned the knob to increase the volume. Dean raised his voice along with the music.

"Sorry, I can't hear you, the music's too loud!" Dean said as he pulled out of the gas station and back onto the highway.

CENTENNIAL HIGHWAY, CALIFORNIA

Sam gave you the task of calling the hospital in the area for anyone matching John's description, while he called the morgue. It didn't take very long before you hung up the phone, having received the information you needed. You noticed a sign that read 'JERICHO 7' whiz by as Sam ended his call.

"Alright, so there's no one matching dad at the morgue."

"Or the hospital," you added.

"So that's something, I guess," Sam said.

You suddenly felt your chest tighten, and your heartbeat quickened as you seemed to be nearing a bridge. You could see it in the distance, and the only clouds in the sky covered the entire length of it. The dark clouds contrasted against the blue sky. You felt your heart drop at the sight of police cars parked near the bridge. Dean seemed to notice too as he glanced at Sam, then back at the road ahead. You could see a couple cops stood around a blue car that was parked sideways, blocking off the bridge.

"Check it out," Dean said as you neared the action.

Sam leaned forward with narrowed eyes to try to make out more details. As you got closer, it felt like a hand was being wrapped around your throat. You shivered despite the warm California air that was making you sweat. Dean pulled off on the side of the road a couple yards away from the bridge, and you were finally able to take a deep breath. There was a cloud of death that hung over that bridge.

You all sat there and watched for a few moments before Dean turned off the impala. Suddenly, he reached over and opened the glovebox. He grabbed out a small box full of fake ID cards that had his and John's pictures on them. You sighed and leaned back in your seat.

"They're gonna get suspicious if all three of us go up," you said as Dean rifled through the box.

"Then stay in the car," he answered quickly, not looking up.

"I have to get to the bridge to get anything."

"Then just go to the edge of the bridge and do your thing while Sam and I go talk to them," Dean said as he pulled out an ID from the pile before shoving the box back in the glovebox, "let's go," he said as he opened his door and climbed out of the impala.

Sam turned to you with his mouth hung open in surprise, "fake ID's? Really?" he asked, obviously annoyed with Dean.

"They're helpful," you said with a nod, "I don't like using them all that much, though," you added quickly when he shook his head disapprovingly. 

The air felt heavy as you stepped out of the impala. You couldn't pinpoint how many people had died on that bridge, but you knew it had to be many. At least one, by the looks of the empty car and confused looking cops. Sam's door shutting loudly made you force yourself to start walking. You and Sam caught up with Dean, and you took your usual place in-between the brothers, walking quickly to keep in stride with them.

"You guys find anything?" you heard a man on the right side of the bridge yell down to what you assumed were men combing the river.

"No! Nothing!" was the distant and echoed response.

Once you reached the beginning of the bridge, you slowed and departed from the brothers, heading to the left. Sam and Dean continued walking toward the blue car and the cops. You heard them begin talking with the officers, but their voices faded away as you neared the edge of the bridge. You reached out and placed your hands on the railing, using them to brace yourself as you leaned over to look down into the rushing river water.

A wave of anger washed over you, similar to the one you had felt before, when you listened to the EVP on John's voicemail. It was accompanied by a bitter sadness, and this time it was much more intense. It suddenly shifted into grief, then all you felt was cold, as if someone had dumped a bucket of the river water on your head. You shivered as a name appeared in your mind. You turned quickly to look for Sam and Dean, spotting them walking back toward the start of the bridge. You began to speed walk over to them. You watched Dean take step in front of Sam, and turned to face him as they stopped walking. They looked like they are arguing again. You shook your head as you stomped over.

"I need a pen," you demanded as you walked up to them.

"Woah, are you okay?" Sam said as he look at you, concern etched into his features.

"I'm fine, I just need a pen," you repeated, "I got a name."

"Y/N, you're crying," Sam said as he pulled his sleeve up over his thumb and wiped your left cheek while you reached up and wiped you right; sure enough there was a trail were tears had streamed down your face.

"I didn't even know I was. I don't think it was really me crying, anyway. She made me feel how she felt before she died, if that makes any sense," you rambled on as Sam wiped the rest of your tears away before taking a step back, and you didn't fail to notice the raised eyebrow look Dean gave you and Sam.

You were about to raise your hand to hit Dean on the arm, but you heard an authoritative voice come from your right that stopped you, "can I help you three?"

You turned to see the sheriff with two tall FBI agents standing behind him. All three of them stared down at you through their sunglasses. You typically didn't let cops rattle you, but the FBI were a different story. You did your best to stand up tall and stare them down right back. The sheriff looked the three of you over, his eyes landing on you.

"No, sir. We were just leaving," Dean told him.

The FBI agents didn't seem to have time for you, as they ignored Dean and walked around him, "Agent Mulder. Agent Scully," Dean joked as they passed him.

You wound back and slapped him in the arm. He laughed and rubbed his bicep as the three of you walked past the sheriff. You could feel his eyes on you as you left. Dean finally pulled out a pen and handed it to you as you walked back to the impala. You spread out your palm and wrote down the name you had been given earlier.

"Constance Welch," you said to them as you held your hand out for both of them to see.

"Who's that?" Dean asked.

"The girl who made me cry," you tried to make a joke out of it, but Sam's lips pressed into a thin line, and his brows furrowed; he never liked when the ghosts affected you like that, "I think she's the spirit that's killing the guys," you added, quickly.

"Well, we'll have to go dig up some more information. They mentioned something about the girlfriend of the kid who died. We can go talk to her and ask her a couple questions, try to figure out why he was killed," Dean explained as the three of you got into the impala.

"Are we gonna go wave fake badges in her face?" you asked, not sure if that was the best idea, "maybe Sam and I can talk to her while you go look up Constance," you suggested, and Dean glanced at you in the rearview mirror before nodding.

"Alright, fine. But I better not get stuck with the busywork next time," he said with a huff.

JERICHO, CALIFORNIA

The sidewalks were mostly empty as the impala slowly rolled down the main road of town. It was still fairly early in the day, but you expected more people to be out. It was the weekend after all. When you saw the sign above the closed movie theater, it made sense why the streets were mostly barren. 'EMERGENCY TOWN HALL MEETING; SUNDAY 8 PM; BE SAFE OUT THERE,' was the message to all the townsfolk.

"I'll bet you that's her," Dean nodded to a girl taping a pink paper on the brick wall just to the left of the theater.

Dean drove a few more feet before pulling up to the side of the road. You and Sam hopped out, and you leaned down to look at Dean through the open passenger door.

"I'll call you when we're done," you told him and he nodded.

You stood up straight and Sam shut his door. You turned and walked the few steps toward the girl. You tried not to seem too intimidating, but with Sam standing at 6'4, that was a bit of a challenge. You hoped his young face and signature puppy dog eyes would help your cause. She taped a missing poster to the wall that read 'MISSING TROY SQUIRE' underneath a smiling photo of Troy. You noticed the other missing posters that were hung up too, and you quickly realized they were all of the pervious victims you had seen in Dean's file.

"You must be Amy," you said as you approached her.

"Yeah," she replied flatly, not looking up as she secured the paper to the wall with another piece of tape.

"Yeah, Troy must have told you about us. I'm his aunt Y/N, and this is his uncle Sam," you explained to the girl with a smile.

"He never mentioned you to me," she said before turning and walking away, but you were quick to walk in stride with her.

"Well, that's Troy I guess," you said, adding in a fake chuckle, "we're not around much, we're up in Modesto."

"We're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around," Sam said as he took a step in front of her to stop her from walking any further.

Another girl came up to Amy, gently placing a hand on her arm, "hey, are you okay?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," Amy said with a nod, never taking her eyes off Sam.

"You mind if we ask you a couple questions?" he asked her, and she nodded.

Amy and her friend, who introduced herself as Rachel, led you down the street to a diner. It was mostly empty, other than an older couple sitting at a booth in the back right. You also noticed a seemingly bored waitress standing by the counter. She barely even noticed the four of you walk in, too busy looking down at her cellphone. Amy and Rachel slid into a booth in the far left of the diner. You and Sam slid into the side opposite them. Amy waved down the waitress and you and Sam ordered coffee, while the girls ordered sodas.

"What happened the night Troy disappeared?" you asked her gently.

"I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did," she told you, on the verge of tears.

"He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?" Sam asked.

"No. Nothing I can remember."

Amy fidgeted nervously with the charm of her necklace; it was a black pentagram. Sam took the words right out of your mouth before you could speak them.

"I like your necklace."

"Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents," She laughed, "with all that devil stuff."

You and Sam both chuckled. He glanced at you, and you shared a look of understanding.

"Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing." Sam explained to Amy.

"Did Troy believe in or practice anything satanic? Or was the necklace just a harmless gift?" you asked her, trying to get any sort of lead.

"It was a just a gift. I think he ordered it off the internet," she told you with a shrug.

"Well, the way Troy disappeared, somethin's not right. If either of you know anything..." Sam trailed off.

Amy and Rachel slowly turned and looked at each other.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk," Rachel replied.

You and Sam spoke in tandem, "what do they talk about?" you'd be lying if you said you hadn't missed Sam always knowing what you were going to say.

Rachel paused, glancing over at Amy before she rested her elbows on the table and leaned in, speaking quietly, "It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago," the name Constance Welch flashed in your mind as Rachel spoke, "Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever," you glanced over at Sam who was listening intently.

"Well, let's hope it's just a legend, yeah? Thank you for answering our questions. If you think of anything else that could help," you paused as you grabbed a napkin from the holder and pulled out the pen that Dean had given you earlier, "don't be afraid to call," you wrote your phone number down on the napkin and handed it to her, smiling warmly.

"Thank you for your time," Sam said and you almost laughed at how diplomatic he sounded.

You and Sam slid out of the booth and headed for the front door. The bell above the door dinged as Sam opened it, letting you go through first. You noticed the sun starting to slowly slip below the horizon. The breeze didn't do much to cool you off, the humid air making your forehead slick with sweat. You used the back of your hand to wipe off as much moisture from your face as you could. You gestured for Sam to follow you as you started walking down the road toward the motel you had seen earlier. You pulled your cell phone out as you walked and flipped it open, quickly finding Dean's contact. You pressed call and brought the phone up to your ear. It rang twice before he picked up.

"You get anything?" he asked you eagerly.

You didn't think twice about his lack of greeting, instead you answered his question immediately, "you probably got more than we did. We got told a local legend of a woman who was murdered on Centennial, and her ghost hitchhikes and picks up poor suckers who never get seen again," you told him, but you had a feeling he was going to fill you in on the missing pieces.

"They almost got it right. Funny how much a story can change over twenty years" Dean said, more to himself than to you.

"Hold on," you said before pulling the phone away from your ear and putting him on speakerphone, "What actually happened?" you asked him.

"She committed suicide. Jumped off the bridge where they found that kids car."

"So it's gotta be her... Did it say why she did it?"

Dean sighed sadly, "the article said she left her kids in the bathtub and they drowned. She had called 911 but it had already been too late. They found her an hour later in the river."

"Geez, no wonder I felt so much grief," you muttered, more to yourself, but Sam heard it all too clearly, "did the article say where she's buried?" you asked, deciding to ignore the concerned look Sam was giving you.

"No, but it had her husbands name. Joseph Welch. If we find him I'm sure he can tell us where she's buried."

"Alright. It's getting late, though. We can meet at the motel we passed earlier and get a room for the night," you said, realizing how much your body was aching.

"Want me to head back and pick you guys up?"

"Nah, we're almost there. I can see it. Just meet us there."

"Will do. See you soon."

"See you soon," you echoed before closing your phone and shoving it back in your pocket.

There was a long pause before Sam spoke, "Are you feeling okay?"

Sam knew how drained you could feel after channeling a ghost like you did on the bridge, especially an extremely vengeful spirit like Constance. The more you thought about how exhausted you were, your limbs felt heavier.

"I'm alright, just tired," you told him, but you could see in his furrowed brow expression that he didn't believe you, "a few hours of sleep should fix me right up," you added, somewhat sarcastically.

You had just made it to the front office when you heard the all too familiar roar of the impala's engine. You turned to see Dean pull into the parking lot and park in the first parking spot he could find. He hopped out with a gloating smile, happy that he had uncovered more than the two of you. You wanted to remind him who got the name in the first place.

"Lets just get a room," you said before Dean could start gloating aloud.

The three of you walked into the office of the motel. An older looking gentleman was stood behind the counter with a polite smile. Dean pulled his fake credit card out of his wallet and dropped it down on the counter.

"One room, please," he told the clerk, his proud smile still spread wide across his face.

The man picked up the fake credit card, looking down at it before glancing up at Dean, "you guys having a reunion or something?"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked him.

"I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month," Sam and Dean shared a look.

"Which room was it?" you asked sweetly, hoping the man didn't get too suspicious.

"Number one. I only remember because he was so damn adamant about having it," he told you as he ran Dean's credit card and handed it back along with your room key.

"Thank you," you said before practically dragging the brothers out of the office, "let's get settled into our room, then we can check out John's room in a little bit. That guy might be keeping an eye out."

Sam and Dean agreed. The three of you grabbed your bags from the impala before bringing them to your room. You waited for the sun to fully set before the three of you started getting impatient. You were the first one out the door, checking to make sure that the coast was clear before the brothers followed. You walked down to the door of room one, standing shoulder to shoulder with Dean, your backs to the door as Sam knelt down to pick the lock. It only took him about thirty seconds before you heard the lock click from behind you. You turned as Sam reached out and grabbed Dean's shoulder, yanking him back into the room. You stepped in quickly after. Sam shut the door behind you as your eyes scanned the room.

"Woah," you mumbled as you both looked around the room.

There were newspaper clippings, printed articles, and photos hung on almost every inch of the walls of the motel room. There are books and papers scattered across every surface. Dean flicked a lamp on, leaning down to sniff a discarded burger underneath the light. He recoiled in disgust.

"I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least," Dean observed.

"I think you're right," you replied as you walked to the far wall, making sure to step over the salt line that blocked the door.

Sam leaned down and poked at the salt on the floor, "salt, cats eye shells. He was worried, trying to keep something from coming in," he said as he stood up straight, before walking over to stand by Dean, "what have you got here?" Sam asked his brother, who was looking at a line of papers hung up on the wall.

"Centennial Highway victims," Dean replied, looking over the obituaries to make sure there weren't any he'd missed, "I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities," Sam crossed the room to stand next to you as Dean spoke, "there's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?"

You and Sam noticed the photos and papers hung on the wall in front of you, and it confirmed what you had already been suspicious of. Sam reached out and turned on the lamp in front of you.

"Dad figured it out," Sam said simply.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked as he turned.

"He found the same article we did. Constance Welch," Sam said, pointing at the article hung on the wall.

"She's a woman in white," you said when Dean's brows furrowed in confusion.

"You sly dogs," Dean said as he looked back at the articles of the missing men.

"The caption of the photo says Joseph Welch was thirty. The article dates to 1981, so he must be..." you paused, doing the math in your head, "sixty-four!" you said, hopeful.

"If he's still alive," Sam spoke what was on all your minds.

"We can worry about it tomorrow. I need at least a couple hours so I don't fall over," you said, a yawn enunciating your words.

"Didn't get enough beauty sleep in the car? You had the whole backseat to yourself," Dean teased as he walked to the door.

"That backseat is not as comfy for sleeping as you think it is," you protested as you stepped over the salt line.

"Better than nothing," Dean was just trying to piss you off, but unfortunately it was working.

"Well, no shit, jackass. But my neck is killing me and I'd love to sleep in a real bed," you pushed past Dean and out the door, checking to make sure no one was outside before leaving.

You got into the room first, taking your opportunity to enter the bathroom and have a quick shower before Dean used up all the hot water. You had the water running and the door closed when you heard Sam and Dean enter the room. You could heard Dean's muffled voice from the other side of the door You heard only a garbled mess of words until you heard your name. You quietly crept up to the bathroom door, pressing your ear up against it. Their voices were quieter now, but you were sure you had heard Dean say your name. You decided it probably wasn't best to ease drop. You couldn't hear what they were saying anyway. You gave up, stepping away from the door and continuing with your shower.

Dean was already passed out in one of the two king sized beds by the time you were out of the bathroom. You chuckled at his loud snoring as you stuffed your dirty clothes into your duffel bag. Sam was sat at the small table near the window, looking down at his phone. You stood awkwardly, wringing your hands as you contemplated what to say or do.

"The bathroom's free if you want to take a shower," you said finally.

Sam jumped slightly, looking a bit startled. He hadn't noticed you come out of the bathroom. Were you that sneaky or was he that distracted? You guessed it was a bit of both.

"Oh, thanks, but I'm good."

"Alright," you glanced at Dean, then back at Sam, "I don't think you'll want to share with him, so you can share with me," you felt your ears warming up but you did your best to ignore it.

"After having to sit in the front seat with him all day, I'd rather not have to deal with him hogging the covers all night. Thank you," Sam said gratefully, but he made no move to get into the bed, instead looking back down at his phone.

You nodded before walking over to the empty bed, laying on the right side. You left the side facing Dean's bed for Sam.

"Goodnight, Sam."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

~~~~~~~~~

You're sat on the floor, your father's head in your lap. Your hands are slick with his blood as you hold the sides of his face.

"Dad? Are you okay? Dad, please wake up! Dad!"

You jolted awake, sitting up straight as you looked around your unfamiliar surroundings. Your eyes met Sam's as he stood next to the bed, his hand on your shoulder.

"Nightmare?" you can barely hear him over your heart pounding in your ears.

You nodded as you took in a shaky breath. Sam's hand moved to your back, rubbing in soft circles. It actually helped ground you, and you were able to catch your breath fairly quickly. Dean came out of the bathroom as Sam let his hand fall from your back.

"You okay?" he asked you and you nodded quickly.

"I'm just gonna get ready," you mumbled, feeling awkward having both of them looking at you worriedly.

You stood and walked over to your duffel bag, grabbing out a change of clothes and heading into the bathroom. You could hear Sam and Dean's hushed voices as you got dressed. They went silent a few moments before you exited the bathroom. Sam was sat on the bed as he listened to a voicemail from who you assumed to be Jessica. You watched Dean pull on his jacket.

"Hey, man, I'm starving. I'm gonna grab a little something to eat at that diner down the street. You want anything?" Dean asked Sam.

"No," he replied.

"Aframian's buying," Dean joked.

Sam only shook his head, and Dean sighed, turning to you.

"You hungry? Wanna go get some greasy diner food?" he asked enthusiastically.

"For breakfast? I'm hoping for some pancakes or something," you said as you looked around for your own jacket, "we'll see you in a bit, Sam," you stopped yourself from calling him 'Sammy,' but you can see in his eyes that he caught your almost slip up.

"Mhm," he hummed in response as you and Dean headed out the door.

You walked with Dean across the parking lot toward the impala. You looked to the right when you felt someone looking at you. You saw the motel clerk talking with a couple cops. The clerk pointed at you and Dean when he saw you.

"Shit," you muttered as you turned to face away from the cops.

Dean mirrored your movements, standing shoulder to shoulder with you as he pulled his phone out, "dude, five-o. Take off," you heard Dean say into the phone.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again, "uh, they kinda spotted us. Go find Dad," Dean closed his phone and stuck it in his jacket pocket before the he spun around to face the cops, bumping your shoulder with his to make you turn around too.

"Problem, officers?" Dean said with a shit eating grin that you wanted to smack right off his face.

"Where's your partner?" the cop crossed his arms over his chest as he looked from Dean to you, eyeing you suspiciously.

"Partner? What, what partner?" Dean asked innocently.

The cop jerked his thumb toward your motel room, silently ordering his partner to search the room. He obeyed, walking to the door before opening it and going inside. You felt your palms begin to sweat as you watched him enter the room, worried that he would come back out with Sam in handcuffs. Your eyes darted back toward the cop standing in front of you. He stood still as a statue, staring you down. You did your best to stand your ground and try not seem a nervous as you were.

"So, fake U.S. Marshal, fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?" the cop asked Dean.

Dean paused, as if debating his response, "My boobs," he finally replied with a toothy grin that showed he was satisfied with his answer.

The cop shoved Dean's shoulder roughly, forcing him to turn around. He pressed his hand in between Dean's shoulder blades, slamming him down against the hood of the car with a thud while his other hand went to his belt to grab his cuffs.

"Turn around with your hands against the hood of the car, please," the cop ordered you through gritted teeth.

You did what he said, not wanting to piss him off anymore than Dean had already done. He cuffed Dean before cuffing you, pressing your cheek against the hood of the impala. You must have looked incredibly annoyed, because Dean's slightly amused smile quickly disappeared.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law," the cop read you your rights as you continued to glare at Dean.

You always hated dealing with the cops. Everytime Dean got the two of you arrested, you hated them even more. Cops didn't believe in monsters and ghosts, so they were always a hinderance, rather than a help. You had a funny feeling that this sheriff was going to get on your nerves. They had thrown you and Dean in separate interview rooms. The sheriff had asked your name and age, which you gave fake answers to both. He had left you to go interrogate Dean.

He was gone for a few minutes before he entered the room again. He was holding a file box full of papers and folders. You assumed they were the things that had been hung up on the walls of John's motel room. He dropped it onto the table before dropping down a notebook in front of you. You immediately recognized it, but you did your best to make sure your face didn't reflect that.

"So you want to give me your real name?" he asked as he leaned against the table.

"I already told you. It's Sandra Nugent," you reiterated to the sheriff, who was looking increasingly annoyed.

"You could be in a lot of trouble here, you know that? Unless you cooperate with me. If you tell me what your boyfriend and his partners have been doing, maybe I can help you out," you wanted to laugh at how desperate he sounded.

"You don't have any evidence on us," you replied stubbornly.

"Ya'll got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall. Along with a whole lot of Satanic mumbo-jumbo. You and your buddy in there are officially suspects."

"Right, because when the first one went missing in '82, before I was even born," you deadpanned.

"I know you've got partners. One of 'em's an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing. So tell me... Y/N is it?" you must have looked surprised, because he opened John's notebook that was sat on the table and began flipping through it slowly, "I thought that might be your name. I got Dean's name fairly quickly, but yours I wasn't so sure about. See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out. I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy," he flipped through until he was almost at the end, stopping and leaning back so you could see the page he had flipped to, "but I found this, too."

You looked down at the page. It was mostly blank other than Deans name scrawled in John's handwriting, along with 35-111 underneath it. The message was circled hastily.

"No one is going anywhere until one of you can tell me what the hell that means," he tapped the message on the paper with his index finger.

"I don't know what it means. It looks like it might be a locker combo or something," you said with a shrug.

The sheriff was getting red faced, and you were sure Dean had told him the same things. This wasn't your first rodeo. Before he could question you any more, there was a knock at the door. It opened a second later. A young cop stuck his head into the room.

"We just got a 911, shots fired over at Whiteford Road," he told the sheriff.

"You have to go to the bathroom?" the Sheriff asked you.

"No," you replied.

"Good."

He promptly cuffed you to the table. You struggled against the cuffs slightly, the metal digging into the skin of your wrist. The sheriff left and shut the door behind him. Through the small window in the interrogation room door, you could see all the cops scrambling to leave. You looked around, trying to find a way out, when you noticed a paper clip sticking out of John's journal.

You reached out and grabbed it. You unbent it and used it to pick the lock on your handcuffs. You did your best to remember what Sam taught you, and soon you were free. You grabbed John's journal off the table and crept over to the door. You peered through the small window and waited until all the cops had cleared out before trying the door. It was surprisingly unlocked. You went to the interrogation room next door, opening it to reveal Dean handcuffed to the table.

"Well look at you, ya' little escape artist! How did you manage that?" Dean asked as you entered the room.

You held up the straightened paper clip for him to see before getting to work on unlocking his handcuffs. He laughed in amusement as you freed him.

"He made it pretty easy," you said with a shrug, handing him John's journal, "now come on, let's get outta here before they come back."

The two of you crept through the police station, careful not to let anyone see you. It seemed like they had all hands on deck though, because the place looked almost deserted. You managed to find your cell phones on the sheriff's desk. You were sure the receptionist would still be at the front desk, so you searched around for window or a back exit. You quickly found a window that let to the fire escape.

You unlocked it and pulled it open before climbing out onto the fire escape. You gestured for Dean to follow, and he did so without hesitation. Dean climbed down first before you climbed down after him. The two of you made sure the coast was clear of any cop cars before walking down the sidewalk, headed for the town exit. You weren't sure which way Sam had gone or where he was, but you needed to get the hell out of dodge before the cops found you again. The sidewalk ended at the exit of town, and Dean pulled his cellphone out to call Sam.

"Fake 911 phone call? I don't know, Sammy, that's pretty illegal," he said as he put it on speakerphone so you could hear Sam too.

"You're welcome," Sam's voice came through the shitty speaker of Deans phone.

"Listen, we gotta talk," Dean started, but Sam was quick to reply.

"Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop," Sam explained.

"Sammy, would you shut up for a second?" Dean tried to stop his brother from speaking.

"I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet," Sam continued, ignoring Dean's words.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you! He's gone. Dad left Jericho."

"What? How do you know?"

"We've got his journal," you told him.

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing," Sam said slowly.

"Yeah, well, he did this time," Dean said.

"What's it say?" Sam asked.

"The same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going."

"Coordinates," Sam said, immediately understanding what Dean meant, "Where to?"

"We aren't sure yet. We didn't have much time to look while we were running from the cops," you said, annoyance evident in your tone, but it was more directed at Dean.

"I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? What the hell is going on?"

You heard the screech of tires skidding on the road through the phone before a quiet thud.

"Sam? Sam!" Dean yelled into the phone frantically.

"Take me home," you heard Constance's soft voice come through the phone, and your hand flew up to clutch your head as the image of a house appeared in your mind.

"Y/N? What is it? Are you alright?" Dean stopped walking to put his hand on your shoulder.

You squeezed your eyes shut tight as you examined the house. It felt like a memory, but you knew you had never seen the house before. You quickly realized it had to be a memory from Constance. It must be her old house where Sam said she was buried.

"The house," you said, "We have to go to the house. That's where she's taking him," you said as you opened your eyes and lifted your head to look at Dean.

"We don't know where the house is!" he cried out, more in fear than in anger.

"I do. Follow me," you didn't elaborate and instead you turned and started jogging, knowing the house wasn't too far from you.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Dean asked as he easily caught up to jog next to you.

"I'm fine, but Sam isn't gonna be if we don't hurry up," you said before picking up the pace.

You and Dean were now running as fast as your legs could manage. You eventually cut through the tree line, coming out into a clearing. You could see the house in the distance, with the impala stopped out front. You could see Sam sitting in the front seat. As you got closer, you could see the ghostly figure above Sam. You quickly recognized the long wavy hair to belong to Constance.

"Cover your ears!" Dean shouted as you ran.

Your hands flew up to cover ears. You had been hunting with the Winchester brothers long enough to know that if one of them said to do something, you did it without question. You heard the muffled sound of a gun shot as you saw the front windows of the impala shatter. Constance disappeared for a moment before reappearing, turning to glare at the two of you. You felt your spine shudder in fear at the anger that radiated off her. Dean continued to shoot until she disappeared for good. You had just made it to the impala when you saw Sam sit up. He reached out and turned the keys in the ignition, making the car rumble to life.

"I'm taking you home," he said breathlessly before he pressed on the gas.

"Sam!" Dean yelled after him as the impala lurched forward and smashed through the front wall of the house with a loud crash.

You and Dean ran up the porch stairs and through the now giant hole in the side of the house. You stepped over the rubble and toward the impala that had stopped in the middle of what looked to be the remnants of a living room.

"Sam?" Dean called out as he ran to the passenger side of the car, "Sam! You okay?" Dean asked as he leaned in through the window.

"I think..." you heard Sam say from inside the car as you walked over.

"Can you move?" Dean asked as he tried to get the passenger door open.

"Yeah. Help me?"

Dean yanked the passenger door open before leaning inside the car and reaching out for Sam. He pulled him out and up onto his feet and brushed the dust off his shoulders.

"There you go," Dean said.

The three of you turned and saw Constance on the other side of the room, holding a large framed photo. She finally noticed you, glaring daggers as she threw the picture to the floor. It clattered loudly as the three of you stared dumbly. Suddenly, her hand lifted and she made a gesture that caused a dresser to slide across the room and pin you against the side of the impala. The wind got knocked out of you as you tried to push the dresser away, but there was an unseen force holding it in place. Sam and Dean were too stubborn to stop trying. Constance took a step forward, a look of malice in her eyes. You were anticipating her next move, when suddenly the lights flickered and buzzed. You watched Constance turn and walk to the base of the stairs that now had water pouring down them like a waterfall.

"You've come home to us, Mommy," you heard a boy and girl say in unison.

Suddenly, the spirits of Constance's children appeared behind her. They wrapped their arms around her in one final hug as the lights surged. You shielded your eyes as Constance screamed. You watched from under your forearm as the three of their spirits sunk slowly into the floor, disappearing and leaving only a puddle of water behind. Sam and Dean pushed the dresser over, and it clattered loudly to the floor. It kicked up a cloud of dust that made you cough. You walked over to examine the puddle, Sam and Dean close behind you. You all stared down at the floor in silence, trying to collect your thoughts. You were trying to brush off the residual rage that Constance had left behind.

"So this is where she drowned her kids," Dean said, breaking the silence.

"That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them," Sam confirmed.

"You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy," Dean clapped Sam on the chest where Constance had dug her fingers into his chest, presumably to rip out his heart; Sam laughed through the pain it caused him.

"Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

"I was just thinking the same thing," you added.

"Hey. Saved your ass," Dean said he walked over to the impala, leaning down to inspect the damage, "I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?" he turned to point at Sam menacingly, "I'll kill you," Sam laughed as you gave Dean a 'what the fuck?' look.

"You literally shot the windows out! I doubt Sam did more damage than you did to your own car," you said as you walked over to stand next to Dean, noticing the busted out headlight.

Fortunately, the impala still ran. The front windows were shattered, and the right headlight needed replacing, but it wasn't anything that couldn't be fixed. She'd been through worse, is what Dean had said.

~~~~~~~~~

You were leaned over the backrest of Sam's seat, looking at the map he had sitting open in his lap. He was trying to find the location of the coordinates that John had left. It didn't take him long to circle a spot on the map.

"Okay, here's where Dad went. It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado," Sam said and Dean nodded.

"Sounds charming. How far?" Dean asked.

"About six hundred miles," Sam replied.

"Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by tonight!" Dean said excitedly.

"Dean, I, um..." Sam trailed off, and you sat back in your seat, knowing where this was going.

"You're not going," Dean said simply.

"The interview's tomorrow morning. I gotta be there."

"Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home."

You had the sudden realization that your bags were still in your motel room. It wasn't difficult to convince Dean to drive back to the motel. You and Sam managed to sneak in and grab your stuff without being spotted. Dean sped to the highway to make sure the cops didn't catch you again.

None of you spoke for the rest of the drive. It was only a few hours, and the sun had set by the time you had arrived at Sam's apartment complex. Dean stopped out front and Sam opened the door and got out, shutting it behind him. He turned to lean in through the window as you climbed over the backrest to sit in the front seat. Once you were sat, you looked over at Sam, noticing how close he was.

"Call me if you find him?" Sam asked, and Dean nodded, "And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?" his eyes went from Dean to you, and you nodded with a smile.

"Yeah, all right," Dean replied, still frowning slightly.

Sam patted the door twice, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stood up straight. He turned around and started to walk away. Dean set his arm on the backrest behind you, leaning forward slightly to look out the passenger window.

"Sam?" Dean called out.

Sam looked over his shoulder, "yeah?"

"You know, we all made a hell of a team back there," he said with a smirk, glancing at you.

Sam nodded with a small smile before Dean turned back to look at the road as he pressed on the gas. You didn't dare turn to look, instead you tried to catch a glimpse of Sam in the crooked side mirror. You could see his tall figure looming in the shadows. There was a sense of foreboding that you couldn't shake as you drove away. You were only on the road for a few minutes. Sam's apartment building had just barely faded in the distance. You turned and saw Dean's furrowed brows as he glanced between his watch and the road.

"What?" you questioned him.

"I think my watch stopped working."

A wave of dread washed over you as your heart dropped into your stomach. It felt like every inch of your skin was covered in goosebumps. You swallowed hard around the lump rising in your throat.

"Dean, turn around and go back. Now," you said firmly.

Dean didn't have to be told twice. He immediately pulled a u-turn and headed back toward Sam's apartment. You could feel the evil radiating off the building even before you saw it come into view. Dean pressed down on the gas harder, going well above the speed limit. He pulled into the parking lot and skidded to a stop in front of the door. You both hopped out of the impala but he stopped you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

"Stay here, I'll be right back," he said quickly before turning and running into the building.

You looked up to see flames and smoke emitting from an upstairs window. Your stomach churned as you pulled out your phone to call 911. You put the phone to your ear, and spoke to the operator about the fire, who told you they were sending a fire truck. You could hear the fire alarm going off before Sam and Dean even made it outside. Just as your chest was starting to ache with worry, you saw them emerge, Dean practically dragging Sam along. Sam fell into your waiting arms, and you used all your strength to keep him somewhat standing. He had wrapped his arms around you and had shoved his face into the crook of your neck. Dean stood a few feet away, coughing loudly. He put up his hand and made it into a faux phone, shaking it next to his ear with furrowed brows, silently asking if you had called the police. You nodded as you hugged Sam tightly, rubbing his back with one hand and petting his hair softly with the other.

The fire fighters didn't take long to get there. They managed to tame the flames fairly quickly, leaving most of the apartment complex intact. Sam had detached from you before they had arrived, wiping his eyes and sitting on the trunk of the impala. He didn't speak a word to you. Only when Sam was talking with the cops was when you got part of the story from Dean.

"She was... on the ceiling," he told you slowly.

"Like... Like how your mom died?" you asked gently.

Dean nodded and you felt your chest tighten as your heart rate quickened. You shook your head as you looked over to the building. Smoke was still billowing out into the night sky, blocking the few stars you could see from view. You and Dean were stood side by side at the back of the crowd of onlookers that had grown at the edge of the police tape. The red lights of the fire truck were still flashing, and they were starting to give you a headache. You turned away from the building to head back to the impala. Dean had pulled it off to the side of the road a few yards away. Sam was stood in front of the open trunk. You saw him loading a shotgun as you approached.

You didn't want to pity him, knowing it would only make him feel worse. When you saw the tear stains down his cheeks, you couldn't stop the sympathetic smile you gave him. He smiled weakly at you. Dean walked up next, giving Sam a look you couldn't place. You knew all the Winchester looks, but this one was foreign to you. Sam nodded at him before letting out shuddering breath, obviously knowing what his brother's look meant. You appreciated them getting along, but you didn't like to be excluded. Under different circumstances, you would have pestered them until they told you what telepathic messages they were sending each other. Instead, you stayed quiet, watching as Sam threw the now loaded shotgun into the trunk.

"We got work to do," he said before slamming the trunk shut.

[crystalrainwing]

Hai! For the ship ask game, too! Since you mentioned having plural OCs, I thought I'd give ya three questions! You can pick which OC to go with which question! Or answer multiple OCs per question, whichever! 😁

5. Do they argue often?

12. Do they have a difficult time apart or are they fairly independent?

14. Do they enjoy PDA, or are they more private?

OOOH YES

5. for Cyrus and Oliver, vampire and ghost who are childhood best friends (+ queer platonic partners, though they don’t use that term): before meeting some other characters and Cyrus getting the support and healing he needs, they argued a LOT. and it was nasty arguments not harmless ones. later on though they are very happy and work out their differences in more healthy ways.

12. for Jack and Winifred, immortal-ish cat creature and some kind of fish thing: they’re very independent! they end up spending a lot of time apart partially because Jack is a wanderer and Winifred isn’t, but when they’re together they’re around each other a lot. they don’t really end up missing each other much, just enjoying the other’s company greatly when they are able to be together.

14. for Skip and Lye, just some guy and fated savior of the world: they are not very publicly affectionate, the most they’ll do in public is like, hold hands. however they’re very cuddly at home :) skip is more touchy than lye and will hug her and stuff a lot, but she likes it, just usually won’t initiate it herself.

THANKS FOR THE ASK!!! :D

art of them under the cut :3

cyrus and oliver (before cyrus's self-betterment arc)

jack and winifred!! she's way out of their league lol

lye, i don't have any art of skip though :(

art is by @/cryptidly_ on twitter, @/art-by-fate on here, and someone on discord who i can't find a social media prescence for :3

[ameliagiovanna0]

10-20 :)

I wasn't sure if you meant 10 thru 20 or 10 and 20, so I just did all ten lol

10. I met a dog named Cobweb, and I absolutely loved that

11. I can turn my tongue on its side

12. Our CEO got arrested for tax fraud. I also had to report a guy for threatening to kill his ex-girlfriend. I had to talk to the teacher, the principal called my parents to thank me and let them know that the state police might be calling. That was fun. We also have a famous country singer alumni. Idk if that counts as gossip, but there ya go 😅

13. Nope

14. I'm not a huge coffee person, but maybe an iced mocha or a French vanilla cappuccino

15. People always want to know how old I am. From the time I was 10, I've literally had people come up and just ask me. When I was younger, people thought I was younger than my actual age because of how tiny I was. But then, I started getting drink menus at restaurants when I was 13. People, especially now that I'm in college, always assume I'm older

16. Oooo, this has been rolling around my brain for a while, tbh. I think it might have to be something for my late grandma. Out of all of us grandkids, everyone says that I'm the most like her. I even picked up some of her mannerisms by the time I was 2. It freaked everyone out because we lived so far away that I didn't get to see her very often, and I still managed to do the same things she did. Even though, she died when I was 8, I've always felt super close to her. Plus, my cousins said that my cookies are the closest to hers, which makes me all warm and fuzzy. Her name started with an E, so I think I'd get a letter E Maybe on the inside or side of my wrist

17. Yeah! by Usher, Lil Jon, and Ludacris. I'm not mad about this result 😂

18. I usually don't say that I have a favorite musician. I tend to just like whatever sounds good for the moment. But I think I'd have to go with for KING & COUNTRY. They're contemporary Christian. I've been to three of their concerts, and it was amazing. They're amazing performers. They have a song called Priceless. It's about how women are treated like objects and that, despite what we might be told, we're priceless.

I see you dressed in white

Every wrong made right

I see a rose in bloom

At the sight of you (oh, so priceless)

Irreplaceable, unmistakable, incomparable, darling, it's beautiful

I see it all in you (oh, so priceless)

The song goes along with the movie and book of the same name. They revolve around a man that finds out he's hauling human trafficking victims and ends up protecting them.

I also absolutely love their song God Only Knows. Bonus points for the version they did with Dolly Parton. HIGHLY recommend both songs, and for KING & COUNTRY all together, even if you don't like Christian music. Because I usually don't, but they're top notch

19. Mr. V! He was my 7th and 8th grade social studies teacher. I'll never forget him. I loved social studies anyway, but he made everything so much fun. He was kind and really cared about all of us. He actually sent me and my best friend, who was also in his class, cards when we graduated.

20. Chaotic, multi-fandom, disorganized, happy place

[theshinsun]

☺️😏🎲💻😢 !!!

☺️- a line that made you feel a fluffy happiness:

already answered, but hell yeah I’ve got more fluff

[He lets her grab his wrists to direct his hands, and even boss him around, as she can tend to do, with total patience, rolling his designated red fire engine across the floor and imitating the sirens for her under Daiki’s watchful eye.]   

— Ain’t No Rest (chapter 13)

lookit this adorable little found family playin cars together I’m fuckin Weak

😏- your most risky line:

also already answered, so I’ll give ya another 

[“Are you gonna fuck me or what?” he sneers, shifting his legs apart slightly in invitation... or demand, rather. His dick rests hard and thick against his inner thigh, a pretty, dark contrast to the lighter tan of his skin, and his eyes are hooded and glittering, trained on Kagami’s own.]

— Rumors

technically two lines but idgaffff I make the rules here lmao

🎲- your favorite chapter/part from a multipart series:

ya know what I haven’t talked about OOTQ yet in these prompts. that fic is a mess and a half, it’s long and disorganized and got really difficult to write recently, but there’s a part I still really like... where the boys are discussing their future if their situation turns out to be real.

[“Why?” he asked finally. “Why would you want to stick around? What’s in it for you?”

Aomine opened his mouth, and then closed it again, tapping his fingers against his knees in a show of nervous fidgeting Kagami didn’t think he’d ever seen from him. Then he turned his head and met Kagami’s penetrating glare head-on, fervor flaring in his eyes.

“You.”]

— Out Of The Question (chapter 13)

that part. up to that point Aomine didn’t seem to have any solid motivation for sticking with Kagami, at least from Kagami’s perspective, and then he just lays himself bare to him with one word. I dunno it’s really simple and straightforward but it still gets me tbh. an oldie but a goodie.

💻- three works of yours that are must reads:

alrighty *cracks knuckles* I’m not gonna go with the most popular, or even the ones I like best, I’m gonna go with the top three you should read if you want to know what kind of writer I am, and get the best overall feel for my work.

Rumors - this one is self-contained and pretty simple, and I really think it reflects my idea of what AoKaga’s dynamic could be. it’s not the most original idea in the world, but I still really like the language and the concept, and of my oneshots, it’s probably the one that’s just... the most purely AoKaga and I’m proud of it. 

To The Gills - on the other hand, this one’s a good example of how niche my fics can get, how I’ll sometimes take this very specific off-the-wall idea and just run with it. I love the flow of this one so much, I have no idea how it came out so smooth and concise but the imagery and dialogue are up there with some of my best and I think this fic exemplifies the level of careful attention and detail I’d like all of my work to be at.

and finally...

Ain’t No Rest - okay you knew this one was coming. unlike the other two, it’s currently incomplete (fixing that rn) and it’s like a million miles long (106k over three years and counting), but this fic has simply had a kind of impact that no other has. it was the biggest leap of faith I ever took in terms of concept and style —  I had no idea if people would be interested in a fic with things like a mechanic subplot, Aomine’s oc daughter, and half the story told in hindsight through flashbacks, so I really did write it for myself, because I wanted to  — and I was shocked by the response and how much other people seemed to resonate with it. but all that aside, bc you already know I love this story and I said I wasn’t picking based on personal favorites, this fic also showcases my most deliberate use of setup and payoff to date, and some of the best subtext and foreshadowing of any of my works so far, at least in my opinion. it’s got wit and heart and a strong, solid outline, and my main aspiration rn as a writer is for my other projects to either reach this level, or exceed it. 

😢- a line that made you cry:

[Riko and Hyuuga simultaneously nodded, and together they took Tetsu’s arms and pulled him away from Kagami, despite his frantic tears and struggling and screaming — which Aomine had never heard, but it tore at his heart — and turned to leave.]

— Love And War, And Zombies (chapter 7)

that whole scene at the end of chapter 7 kills me... especially how Kuroko reacts completely unlike his usual calm and quiet self, I just ;;-;;

[f1nalboys]

Hi, I have been reading your blogs and love it! It's so nice to find someone who loves slashers too haha. If it's not a bother, I'd like to make a request. With The Lost Boys where the reader ends up stopping in the TLB movie universe. She gets confused at first but quickly recognizes everything, especially the boys. That being the case, she tries to help them by warning about the frog brothers. How would they react? Sorry if it got confusing lol.

hi there!! so sorry for the long wait but i really enjoyed writing this request!! I hope you enjoy it :)

WARNINGS: none

WORD COUNT: Approx. 1460

You had never been more confused before in your life. One minute you were in bed, half asleep, scrolling for a video to watch on your phone and the next you’re laying on the beach. You were sitting in the sand now, looking around trying to figure out 1. Where the hell you were and 2. Why the hell you were here.

There was a boardwalk just behind you and it was absolutely bustling with people. Most were dressed… differently than you were used to, but that’s not what made you freak out. It was turning to your left and seeing the Santa Carla welcome sign. Santa Carla. There’s no way you were here, right? It had to be a dream.

The sound of yelling caught your attention and you nearly shit yourself at the sight in front of you: four men in familiar clothing arguing with a beefy motorcycle man. One had platinum blonde hair, bordering on white, and he was smoking a cigarette with a smug look on his sharp features. Directly to his right was a taller, long-haired man with no shirt but a leather jacket on.

Holy shit. You blink your eyes hard, pinching yourself hard on the arm until the skin began to throb. You weren’t waking up. This wasn’t a dream, or, at least, wasn’t one you were waking up from. You stand, extremely aware of how differently you were dressed compared to the people around you, and you make your way towards the men. They had finished arguing with the man and were now standing around talking to one another.

“Hey!” You call, instantly slapping yourself in your mind. ‘Hey?’ Why would you try and get their attention anyways? The four turn towards you and you watch as David, because the closer you get the more you realize this was real, cocks an eyebrow at you. Paul and Marko were whispering to each other, large grins plastered onto their faces, while Dwayne watched you walk towards them silently.

“Do we know you?” David asks, his voice having an edge to it. You gulp, your heartbeat picking up speed and David grins at you. He could hear it. He takes a step towards you, closing the gap, and the others follow suit. They walk circles around you like a lion waiting to pounce on the injured gazelle. “I don’t think we do. I’m D-”

“David, I know. You’re Marko, Paul, and Dwayne.” You say, your voice much more confident than you actually were. David's grin drops instantly, his eyebrows scrunching together. He takes another drag from his cigarette, dropping it and stamping it out with his foot as he glances you up and down.

“How the hell do you know that?” Marko asks though it seems he’s more curious than angry. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to figure out the best way to tell them that wouldn’t make you sound crazy, but nothing came up.

David’s hand outstretches and grabs ahold of your chin, gripping it tightly and forcing you to look at him. His eyes darken. “He asked you a question.”

“It’s a long story and it won’t make sense to you, honestly. I’ll tell you if you let me go.” You bargain and thankfully David obliges. He drops his hand to his side and raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to talk. You take a look at the other three men who were all waiting with various levels of annoyance and intrigue. You sigh.

Almost three hours of talking and answering questions later, you were finally finished telling them what you knew. You were now at a random restaurant, sitting on one of the outdoor tables, picking at fries. They had oh so graciously bought them for you halfway through your story which seemed to be draining their energy.

“So, let me see if I’m understanding you correctly. You’re telling us that you’re not from here and are instead from a place where we are… in a movie? And that it talks about us being… ya’ know?” You nod. David was on his fifth cigarette now and looked genuinely confused. “None of this makes sense.”

“Yeah, but I’m just telling you what I know,” You say, popping a fry into your mouth. Marko was absolutely riveted by your story and he had continued to interject, asking questions or correcting small details of what you said. Paul looked confused but you came to learn that was just his resting face.

“So… what now?” Dwayne asks, leaning over and grabbing a fry from your tray. He had been quiet this entire time, only speaking to tell Marko and Paul to shut up so he could hear you. You shrug. It’s not an everyday thing for you to get transported into one of your favorite movies and have to talk to the four people you had a crush on since the first time you ever watched the film.

“Maybe you got put here to tell us something… maybe warn us? This is awesome! It’s like that ‘Back to the Future’ movie or something,” Paul says and Marko nods excitedly. Dwayne seems to consider this and shrugs. David is the only one who doesn’t seem fully convinced.

“Who’s the head vampire?”

“Max.”

“... You’re right,” David says, displeased. He takes a swig of his now-warm beer and grimaces slightly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He kept staring at you, trying to figure you out and it was really starting to get to you. Sure you had always day-dreamt about staring into those icy-blue and green eyes but it was a completely different story now that he was doing so in a not-so-friendly way.

Marko throws an arm over David's shoulder and shakes him a bit, trying to get him to smile. “Come on, Dave! This is cool!” He turns to you once again and leans in close. You catch a whiff of his scent which was practically intoxicating; sea salt, hair gel, and nail polish. “So, how does the movie end?”

“Uhh… not that great, at least for you guys.” You say, grimacing at their expressions. You did not think this through. “You guys and Max kinda get killed…”

“Killed? By who?” Dwayne asks, his eyes narrowing slightly. Even though he didn’t believe you fully, you knew far too much about them for him to completely blow you off.

“Michael. Well, Michael, his brother, the frog brothers, and Star.” Their faces contort at the names and you realize that you may have gotten here before any of them had met the others. “You don’t know who I’m talking about, do you?”

“Star, yeah, but we just met her yesterday. Haven’t gotten her back to our place. Who the hell are the frog brothers?” Paul asks and, right on time, two boys sprint past your table, comics in hand, cursing at whoever they were running after. One was in a camo shirt and a red bandana tied around his forehead while the other wore a grey sleeveless shirt.

“That’s the frog brothers.” The four men pause before erupting into laughter. Those two losers had a part in their deaths? Yeah, right. “Seriously; they know about vampires and they’re the reason you four get caught. Just… try and steer clear of those people, alright? And if you haven’t turned Laddie yet, don’t.”

You scrunch your eyes in pain as your head begins to throb. You can hear the four men in front of you talking but you can’t make any of it out. A buzzing sound fills your head and your hands find a place over your ears, trying to stop the pain that has erupted in your brain. Right as you think your head is about to explode the noise stops.

Your eyes opened and you’re no longer on the boardwalk. You were in bed, a random video playing on your phone. It was considerably darker outside now and if you really concentrated you could almost smell the cigarette smoke that had been wafting around you for the last few hours. Smiling, you turn your phone off and curl into bed. That was the most realistic dream you’ve had yet.

Back in Santa Carla, the boys were still seated at the boardwalk, gaping at your now empty chair. One second you were there and the next you were gone. David hadn’t taken his eyes off of you and yet you had vanished.

“Huh. I think we should go talk to Max,” Marko says, standing up. Paul and Dwayne nod, standing as well, but David stays sitting. His eyes were still on your chair. Dwayne places a hand on his friend's shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

[jimmygibbsjrrr]

I have a lot of thoughts about the Slaters

namely, I've been wonderin why the Fairfield Survivors got thrown off the boat in Death Toll

in this panel of The Sacrifice comic, Francis confirms the fates of three of the rescue vehicles:

Image ID:

A panel from The Sacrifice: Part 1. Francis is sat in the rescue vehicle from Blood Harvest, speaking to Louis. His dialogue is as follows:

"Louis, I hate to be the one to break this to ya, but we been heading to the safe zone four times now. Helicopter: crashed. Plane: crashed. Boat: kicked us out and left us to die."

/end ID

the chopper from No Mercy was confirmed crashed in Crash Course, and as for the plane from Dead Air, it was pretty easy to guess (and would have been confirmed in the cut campaign Dam It).

but the part about the boat? that's the Slaters' boat from Death Toll. this is the first time we learn this information.

so...why? what happened?

(more under the cut, ended up writing wayyyy more than I expected over these past few days and don't wanna clog people's dashes lol)

so. let's take a quick dive into the last chapter of Death Toll, to see what we can discern about the Slaters from their dialogue.

the rescue vehicle in Death Toll is a civilian boat, Saint Lidia II, owned by John and Amanda Slater, a married couple. Amanda is never heard in-game, but John's reactions to her can be heard over the radio.

the Slaters are explicitly looking for "anyone out there with firearms". John later adds that "once you get on this boat? Your job is keeping our asses alive". it appears that their motivation for saving the Survivors is selfish from the get-go.

this is undoubtedly true in Amanda's case, however, some of John's lines betray a more selfless attitude. he will berate Amanda for not "think[ing] about the little guy". he will ask, "So what, then? We leave 'em to die? I can't do that, Amanda." whilst Amanda is thinking purely of their own survival, John still feels compassionate towards his fellow survivors. despite this, he says that "I don't want our first act of kindness to be our last", acknowledging the conflict between his compassion and his self-preservation.

so. these are the Survivor's saviours in Death Toll. a conflicted married couple looking for bodyguards, offering to take the Survivors upriver to a military safe zone in exchange for protection.

as for why they get thrown off the boat...well, the easiest explanation would be Amanda.

but, stay with me here, because I think it's a little more complicated than that.

this boat? fulla tension. there's the obvious tension between the Slaters, who we've established seem to fight and disagree regularly. then there's the inevitable tension between them and the Survivors. I reckon Louis, with his generally positive and friendly attitude, wouldn't have much of a problem with them, might even attempt some friendly conversation or something. however, he's about the only one.

the comic fully establishes Bill as caring about nobody except the Fairfield Survivors - the most obvious evidence of this being the words he lives and dies by, "we look after our own". he isn't particularly interested in other people, unless they can help the group out. and he'd likely recognise the unstable and conditional nature of their rescue. while I'm sure he'd try and keep the peace, in any reasonable disagreement or fight Bill's likely to take his friends' side, and if anyone's getting thrown off the boat Bill is going with them. this goes for the whole group, to be honest; I don't think they'd want to split up at this point.

Francis hates boats, hates water, and can't swim, so (and I'm getting a little speculate-y here) would probably be in an even sourer mood than usual on the journey. being as abrasive as he is, plus this additional stress, it's fully possible he could piss off the Slaters enough to get himself (or all of them) thrown off the boat.

as for Zoey? well, I don't imagine a married couple who constantly argues is gonna sit well with her, considering her backstory. similarly to Francis, the situation they're in would make her far more stressed, making it more likely for her to lash out.

Amanda didn't want to save the Survivors in the first place, so while I think that John wouldn't throw them off the boat without reason, I reckon she could persuade him to throw them off if they 'caused trouble' - and they would get into an argument with her far easier than they would with John.

in short: yeah, I can see them getting thrown off the boat by the Slaters after some huge fight or disagreement. I think that's a reasonable interpretation of canon, and definitely an interesting concept.

...however, I do wonder if this tension would really be enough to destabilise their mutual need, after everything they went through to come together.

which is why I'm going to bring up The Last Stand!

I gotta quickly address something before this segment: yeah, I'm totally aware this campaign isn't canon. this evidence works with the fact that it exists in an 'alternate timeline'. also, I am missing a few citations for this section - if anyone can provide them I'd really appreciate it, but just a disclaimer that I currently can't prove some of the things the wiki claims members of the Last Stand Community Update Team have said. here and here are the wiki pages where I got this information. in short - the above explanation is simpler and more canon compliant, the conclusion I draw at the end of this post is backed by shakier evidence but I believe is more interesting, and you can make of all that what you will.

allegedly, members of the Last Stand Community Update Team confirmed a strongly-suspected fan theory about The Last Stand: that it branches off from Death Toll in some way, in a non-canon alternative timeline. as well as this, they allegedly confirmed that in this alternative timeline, the Survivors still end up in Newburg for Dead Air. even without the confirmation, this remains a solid fan theory, due to the constant references to Riverside and re-use of many of Death Toll's assets.

who rescues the Survivors in The Last Stand? John Slater. no Amanda - just John. despite her lack of voice actress, if she was still present John would give some indication of this at some point. it can be speculated that whatever happened to her contributed to the lack of rescue at the boathouse that forced the Survivors to take an alternative route. either way, he ends up at the lighthouse when the Survivors call for rescue, alone, and picks them up.

and then later...throws them off the boat. into Newburg.

what reason would John have to do that? without Amanda, surely he wouldn't have that push, as he wanted to rescue the Survivors for multiple reasons in the first place. without his constant arguments with Amanda, Zoey wouldn't be nearly as stressed. and between the three of them I'm sure the other Fairfield Survivors would stop Francis from pissing John off enough to get them thrown off the boat. in short, less Amanda = less tension, and no reason for the Survivors getting chucked off the boat.

...right?

I'd like to remind you that a symptom of the Infection is paranoia.

what if, in both The Last Stand and Death Toll, John and Amanda are infected by the Survivors on the way to the military safe zone? after all, the virus is confirmed to occasionally be airborne, and I doubt two civilians have completely effective, sustained protection against that. likely the only reason they hadn't already been Infected is because they got out on the water early on in the pandemic, and hadn't come into contact with anyone else since. it's unlikely that one of them is immune, and even more unlikely that they're both immune (especially considering those with XX chromosomes may be genetically less likely to be carriers). wouldn't Francis have mentioned it if their rescuers turned or were obviously Infected? yes, but it's possible that the airborne strain works slower as well, meaning that the Survivors are thrown off of the boat after the symptoms kick in but before the Slaters fully turn. even Church Guy had at least an hour from being Infected to turning, and he was bitten. Newburg isn't too far from where the Survivors are rescued in Death Toll anyway (the burning city in the background of the finale is Newburg), so the Survivors clearly didn't last long on the boat anyway. as a result, the Survivors wouldn't realise it was the Infection intensifying the Slaters' paranoia - they'd just think the Slaters were being dicks. Francis also explicitly mentions that they were "left to die", implying negativity or even hostility from the Slaters as the Survivors were being thrown off.

so yeah. that's why I think they got thrown off of the boat in Death Toll - a combination of the intense tension between the two parties, and the Slaters falling victim to Infection-induced paranoia. but an explanation minus the Infection is equally as plausible. it all depends on what you find most interesting, I suppose, and both feel like they fit pretty well into the world.

lord this is a long chunk o text. I know most fandoms prefer art and fanfic over this sorta thing, so please let me know in replies or something if you're interested in more stuff like this. also if any of this makes sense because I like to ramble.

oh and if you'd like to use any of my interpretations in fanworks like art or fic, I'd love to see it :)

[chiyohsrifle]

Got tagged by the marvelous @hvnnigram and I can't wait to bare my soul to you guys. this is a long one, so let's go!!

Rules: Tag people you want to get to know better 🖤

Your name and then what you would've named yourself: My full name is Montserrat (I'm Mexican, in case you couldn't tell. Well Mexican-American but anywho) but I typically go by Montse. Mainly cuz people struggle to pronounce my full name hehe but I also just think it's less of a mouthful. Idk, I honestly really love my name and don't think I'd change it given the chance. Maybe something shorter just cuz paperwork can be a bitch. I like Rene but otherwise, I'm pretty attached to my name lol.

Astrological sign (sun/moon/rising if you know them): I'm a sun Pisces, a moon Aries, and a rising Virgo, I believe :)) All in all, I'm an emotional, empathetic bitch

When did you join Tumblr and why?: Was going through my emails yesterday and I've been here for a year?? apparently. So yea, I joined Aug./Nov. of 2019 and I'm almost certain it was cuz I wanted to see more Good Omens fanart lol. But I got more active this year cuz quarantine do be forcing me to have some wack coping mechanisms. Also BBC Merlin had me reeling and I needed somewhere to scream.

Top 5 fandoms: Hannibal (obviously), BBC Merlin, Killing Eve, Good Omens, and The Umbrella Academy 😊

Top 5 favorite films: (oh Lord, the cinema buff in me is Panicking rn) God, there's so many I love but I'll try to give varietyTM. But I'm a Cheerleader (1999), Parasite (2019), The Wind Rises (2013), Little Shop of Horrors (1986), and Hector and the Search for Happiness (2014).

Go to song when you wanna Feel something: if we're talking like emotionally charged, TALK ME DOWN by Troye Sivan always sends me reeling. Endorphins wise, Ahora Te Puedes Marchar by Luis Miguel always makes me wanna jump and move around. And La Vie Boheme from RENT, just pure serotonin

What's your religion or faith, if you have one?: I was raised with a heavy Catholic background but I'm agnostic, I believe is the term. Basically, I don't think there's not a God or higher power(s). I just don't align with anything specifically. But I do believe there's something running things, whether that be spirits, the stars, gods, etc. I can't say.

A song that makes you feel seen: Not to be a theatre kid on main but, Breathe from In The Heights. That song and whole musical hold such a special place in my heart, esp with Nina's character cuz I'm Nina. Every part of that song just Gets Me and i ugh, can't articulate it but yea, that song be me.

If you could pick a career: A writer or painter. Anything creative/artsy really cuz crafting is just so calming to me.

Do you have a type?: ngl, I'm kinda the 'falls in love with their best friend' stereotype but beyond that, not really. I kinda just see attractive people and mentally short circuit

What does your soul/heart yearn for?: Not to sound like a character from Hannibal, but to be understood. To be cared for and feel supported. To allow myself to rest and be comforted/loved. Just to feel safe ig. Whoop, that got personal, anywho

If you had to describe yourself in 5 words to someone who doesn’t know you: intelligent, caring, awkward, Very Queer, and chaotic

Favorite subject in school: English and History!! I think they're absolutely fascinating and I'm gay so obviously I connect way too much with literature

Where does your soul feel most at home at?: Close to someone that I love, in comfortable silence. Or any situation where I have wind blowing in my face, it's super comforting and idk why

Top 5 fictional characters: Rowena from SPN, Bella Crawford, Beverly Katz, Eve Polastri, and Jack Crawford

Top 3 moments in a show that made you ugly cry:

1. The ending of Your Lie In April. Idk if any of yall have experienced that, but let me know if you have cuz shared trauma. I was crying so hard, I couldn't breathe. Dry heaving and everything, it was Not Pretty

2. Like literally all of One Day At Time. I know, it's cheesy but that show means a lot to me and I get so emotional watching it cuz I connect to the characters so much. Anything with Elena makes me sob cuz like she's me but also my baby, ya know

3. Um Queer Eye in general but specifically the episode with the gay pastor. That hit close to home on so many levels and boy, was I sobbing the entire time.

(Before y'all ask, honorable mention to Mizumono, TWOTL, and the ending of BBC Merlin cuz I may have been too tired to cry, but trust me, I was emotionally wrecked after all three)

The earth, the sun, the moon, or the stars: Ooh, I'm gonna have to go with the stars but I love that lesbian space rock too

Favorite kind of weather: Thunderstorms, rain, cloudy, grey weather. Fall, I love the fall, give me autumn pleASE

Top 3 characters to kin you with: Guinevere Pendragon from BBC Merlin, Vanya Hargreeves from TUA, and Abigail Hobbs from Hannibal

Favorite medium of art: I love all art very much but I guess drawing and film especially

Introvert/Extrovert/Ambivert: Gonna say ambivert cuz I can be shy but buckle up, cuz the second I'm comfortable around you, it's absolute chaos. You will learn too much about me and that's okay 😌

Favorite literary quote: If poetry counts, it's something like "And if the devil was to ever see you, he'd kiss your eyes and repent". Idk who wrote it but it's an Arabic love poem. Actual book quote tho, "But I'm tired of coming out. All I ever do is come out. I try not to change, but I keep changing, in all these little ways." from Simon vs. The Homosapiens Agenda cuz damn me too.

Some of your favorite books: Simon vs. The Homosapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli, the Carry On series by Rainbow Rowell, When I Was Puerto Rican by Esmeralda Santiago, Fun Home by Alison Bechdel, All The Bright Places by Jennifer Lee, Autoboygraphy, and Copper Sun

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?: Europe or New York. No real specifics for Europe, defiently leaning more towards Western Europe and the Mediterranean cuz they just seem so pretty. And NY cuz I want a studio apartment hehe and also I adore NY. I went a couple years back and just fell in love. Although live is a loose term cuz I've always thought of moving around a lot. I like traveling and settling down isn't really convenient for that so these are kinda just ideals lol

If you could live in any time in history, when would it be?: Oh, defiently 60s/70s. Also, anytime matriarch societies were common cuz I wanna see what that looked like

If you could play any instrument masterfully, it would be: the acoustic guitar and piano. Maybe violin, but those two for sure

If you have one, which god or goddess do you feel more connected to?: I've always really vibed with Athena so her. But also Diyonuses cuz man's is the ideal.

And finally, your favorite recent selfie in your camera role:

(Excuse the eye bags and look in general, I was sleepy when I took it)

Whoo, that's all folks. I'm just gonna say that any of my followers/mutuals who want to do this, feel free to say I tagged you. Thanks for tag, once again, babe!!

[imacrowcawcaw]

These Dreams (Sanny) 1/3

*Just realized that this is super long and the formatting is a mess so I'm breaking it into three and cleaning it up*

Title: These Dreams

Author (As known on Various sites): Lady Lover- Rockfic, Luluthechoosingcrow - AO3, theladylovingcrow - Wattpad and Deviantart, Tumblr - imacrowcawcaw

Fandom: Greta Van Fleet

Pairing: Danny Wagner/Sam Kiszka, Josh Kiszka/Jake Kiszka at the end

Warnings/Tags: first time, first kiss, smut, frontage, grinding, fluff, attempted humor, discussions of underage attraction

Summary: *No actual underage sex graphically depicted, but it's talked about*

*twincest at the very end*

"'You're telling me that we've known each other, been near inseparable, since seventh grade, and you've never once thought about it? At all? You've had to have thought about giving guys a try at least once, everyone questions their sexuality." Sammy gave him a shit eating grin. He scooted even closer to Danny, so that their knees touched and their noses weren't more than half a foot apart. Danny stopped laughing.'

Author's Notes: Sammy seems to be the instigator in most things, and Danny always seems to be secretly in love (in my stories), but I like it like that lol.

God I finished this at midnight lol

For Helena and everyone else who needs gvf content down deep in their soul like I do

Sorry, it's kinda dialogue heavy

Singing along to Fleetwood Mac gave me the title

*I am marking this as underage because there is discussion of attractions and fantasies while they were underage, masturbation, losing virginity while under 18. But there is no graphic underage sex actually written, both boys are at like 20 or nearly 20 (today era) where I place this. (Also will not be posted on Rockfic because I've made that mistake once before and I respect their rules and the reasons behind them)

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

"What if we fucked?"

Danny let his head roll to the side on his pillow so he could eye Sam.

"What?"

"I dunno, it was just a random idea. Like, don't you think it would be kinda fun?"

Danny stared at him, confusion and amusement mingling on his face. This wasn't the weirdest thing Sam had said in, hell, the last half an hour? But, still, the hypothetic had Danny's attention simply because the idea was something he never really thought about - or, at least, never thought would ever happen. A boy had wet dreams and fantasies, they weren't always things he would actually act on.

"I've never thought about it."

Just not gonna mention those dreams. Or the one time he jacked off while sharing a bed with Sam, nose breathing in the scent of his hair and eyes roaming his best friend's sleeping backside. That never happened, okay?

"Really, like never?"

Sam actually looked surprised. He had?

"You're telling me that we've known each other, been near inseparable, since seventh grade, and you've never once thought about it? At all? You've had to have thought about giving guys a try at least once, everyone questions their sexuality."

"Well- I mean..."

To come clean or to not come clean, that was the question in Danny's mind. Sammy seemed totally cool with the idea, though, so it probably wouldn't do him any harm to admit it. Unless this was a prank? Nah, Sam loved jokes but this wasn't his style. He would never pick on someone for something like this, he much preferred messing with Danny in other ways.

"Fine, yeah, I've thought about it. Had a really intense dream in like, eighth, that freaked me out for a while. Didn't know how to deal with it then, ya know?"

"See, I knew it! Everyone thinks about it! What was your dream about?"

Sam bounced on the bed like an excited puppy - which, he was. A cute, fluffy, yapping ball of energy with too big feet who got super excited whenever he met new people, that was Sammy. How could Danny not love him?

"Do you really wanna hear about this?"

He had to know, just to make double sure, that Sam wasn't pulling his leg.

"Yes, I do! It's interesting to think about. And - if you tell me about your's, I'll tell you about mine?"

"Wait, your dream? What? When? How much have you thought about this? Like, being with a guy, or with me? How come you've never said anything?!"

Why was this the first time he'd heard about this? Sam was usually very vocal about everything he was thinking, at least when in private with his brothers and Danny.

Though, he guessed he knew why: it was the same reason he'd never really mentioned his own dreams and ponderings to Sam.

"Well, how come *you've* never said anything?" Sam countered. "And I'll tell you what I've thought about, but later; I wanna hear hear about this dream that freaked you out so bad. What could it have even been?"

"Mr. Oakenstein."

"WHAT?!"

Danny was cracking up at Sam's face, he looked like he'd just been told that Gibson was going out of business or something.

"Please tell me you're joking!" Sam begged. Poor boy, Danny should put him out of his misery.

"Of course I'm joking, doofus! God - Mr. Oakenstein? He was at least seventy five when we took bio! There's no way that - if I liked guys - I'd be into him. He's so wrinkly and hunched and- and *jowly*."

They both shuddered. Mr. Oakenstein's name brought back unpleasant memories of weekly chapter tests (how was it even possible to go through a book that fast?) and frog electrocution, not to mention the mental image of his sagging, jiggly face.

"Would he have even been able to get it up? Like, how long does Viagra take to kick in? You'd just have to lay there waiting and looking at him - which, ugh. That would be a nightmare, not a dream."

"Yeah," Danny agreed, still giggling a little bit, "I didn't dream about him, but it definitely would have freaked me out more if I had. Hey, you still think Miss Marcie is hot?"

Danny was procrastinating, they both knew it, but this was always a fun conversation to have.

"Always, dude. I still remember with, like, perfect clarity the time she had me come in during lunch to go over my test. I looked up and she was *right there* leaning over me reading what I was doing, and I could kind of see up her shirt... man, I was so distracted the rest of the day."

Sam sounded dreamy, lost in his memories of a hot tenth grade teacher.

"I remember that day! You were so distracted after school on the way home, you nearly drove us into a lake. And at band practice you kept messing up, Joshie nearly strangled you with his mic cord."

"Yeah! Man, I was so hard, I couldn't fucking concentrate on anything else except for trying not to cum right then and there. As soon as we called it quits for the day I was in the bathroom; and of course Jake knew what was up and wouldn't stop ribbing me about it the rest of the night."

"Damn, that bad? I mean, she was hot but she wasn't, like, *amazing*, was she?"

"You might not think so, but Miss Marcie is always gonna have a place in my heart. And the spank bank," Sam sighed. They both snickered.

"Well, what about you, hmm?" He asked. "If you didn't like Mr. Goldenstein, then who? Everyone gets hot for teacher."

Sam hummed the lyrics to the classic for a minute, Danny filling in the guitar parts. Neither of them listened to Van Halen that much, but how could you not know that song?

After a little drum solo on his thigh while Sam progressed into increasingly southern banjo sounding guitar noises, Danny stopped and answered.

"I agree, Ms. Marcelina was really hot, but she had NOTHING on Mrs. Bell. Do you remember that red dress she uses to wear?"

"Of course I do! The economy of the United States has never been so interesting!"

Danny snorted. "Dude, you never gave a shit about econ, you just liked to stare at her. Which, okay, I did too. She made that class bareable."

"I'd say she made it a bit more than bareable. And yeah, that red dress was something else,"

Sam rolled onto his side.

"Hey, what if Mr. Goldstein wore a red cocktail dress. Would you go for him then?"

Sam laughed when Danny shoved at his shoulder, shaking with amusement and disgust at the thought.

"You know, I've never entertained that thought, but I am SO glad you brought it to my attention. I'll never be able to *stop thinking about it* now, Samuel."

Sammy gave him a shit eating grin. He scooted even closer to Danny, so that their knees touched and their noses weren't more than half a foot apart. Danny stopped laughing.

Part 2

[caratheillustrious]

I'd want to ask all of them, but let's see if I can pick out specific questions... 1-4, 11-12, 14-20, 22-24, 27-35, 37, and tell an anecdote about your partner, twins, and describe your school experience! (that's practically all + more but I am not good at narrowing down anything)

Hey, Dino! Thanks for the asks, you've rescued me from my pit of boredom haha

1. I have a few lol but let's see... I love Jason Momoa, he looks like a big ole teddy bear. I find Jude Law super sexy too. Singer Alina Baraz makes my heart skip a beat every time I see her.

2. I'm married! Been married for almost four years :)

3. I've been in a super depressive state as of late. I have so so many things that need to get done this year and so much has changed in my life in the past 2 years that I just don't feel like myself anymore. Like I lost myself. But I won't lie, since joining Tumblr I have been feeling like myself a little more.

4. I think it really depends on the "offense" that the artist has made (since this is obviously referring to when artists fuck up). I just think that it truly sucks to have to stop enjoying something someone made because of their bad choices. I don't know, this a tough one.

11. I'm ambidextrous! Its not a talent but it's really the only cool thing I can do. I can hold three cups in one hand? Um... oh I can chug beer really fast. Like, super fast lmao

12. So there was a huge scandal my junior year about the dance teacher being cheated on by her bf (who worked security at the school) with a substitute! I wish I remembered more details!

14. I actually don't drink coffee! I used to drink a lot of colada, which is a Cuban-style espresso, while working my 15-hour shifts at the bar. But I had an episode where my heart was palpitating, I was sweating and couldn't really breathe and that was the last time I drank I coffee. I do love black tea and macha tea!

15. Where I'm from -.- people are always super curious because I'm ethnically ambiguous. I'm Venezuelan, Italian and Lebanese.

16. Two red suns on my back, honoring my twins :)

17. "Gangsta's paradise" by Coolio 😂

18. I don't have a favorite musician! I love music a lot and I listen to such a wide variety of music that it would just be impossible lol I'll mention my fave songs atm: penelope by Col3trane, leftovers by Dennis Lloyd and stronger by Raveena.

19. Omg I could talk about Mr. Crespo for HOURS. I have him to thank for the creative woman I am today. He helped me open up and get out of my shell and really become comfortable with my brain. He pushed me gently into exploring the really dark corners of my mind.

20. Clusterfuck of randomness

22. Billie Eilish!

23. Going to bed at freaking 4am lmao

24. I have two left feet lmao I cannot dance. I can sing a little, but I know I'd be a lot better with classes.

27. Usually like 3 days before. I'm one of those people who gets scared they'll leave something important lol

28. None. Because I don't know what they really look like, ya know?

29. How when people say to not care about what others think. Like, sounds great on paper but no. We all care about what others think of us.

30. Blueeeeee! I've been dying to dye my hair blue! But I have hip-length dark brown hair and I dont wanna bleach it.

31. This one is a little too much for me so I'll skip it :)

32. I've been mistaken for 25 since I was like 15 lmao I'm actually 24 :)

33. The existential dread that lives inside me

34. I'm a Gryffindor! I think it's very fitting of my personality but I always wanted to be a Slytherin because I love Draco Malfoy lol (fun fact: I have a shirt that Tom Felton was selling for a while that says "mind if I Slytherin" with his face on it lol)

35. Home doesn't really evoke any feelings in me. I've moved around a lot and home just means a place where I sleep lol

37. Nope! I was always a good girl in school lol I actually had office aid my senior year and the principal loved me.

So I've said this before on here somewhere but the first time my partner told me he loved me, I replied with "thats a bad idea. Are you sure?" Because we were in a really complicated place romantically (mostly me) and I thought he was batshit crazy falling like that for me, but it worked out in the end lmao

With my twins, they were a huge surprise. So I never intended on having kids. Never wanted any. But accidents happen and I ended up pregnant. I spent the first 8 weeks of my pregnancy throwing up 7-10 times a day, every day. I thought I was going to die. No OBGYN would see me until I was 9 weeks because no insurance. I thought there was something really wrong with me, I lost 15 pounds. When I went to my first ultrasound, the doctor was like "do you have twins in your family?" I told him no (I thought he was just making small talk) and then he goes "so here is one heart.... and here is the other". My partner and I were literally speechless.

My school experience was... interesting. I was always a drifter. I hung out with the "emo" kids, with the jocks, with the cheerleaders... but I never had beat friends. Never had a ride or die. So I ended up having a pretty bland experience. I did, however, have some great teachers and had the pleasure of taking a forensics class in high school which was so much fun!

I really hope this didn't turn out ridiculously long :) and thank you again for the asks @natsspammityspamspamham