#I also grew up watching princess bride every time me or my mom was sick

[takemebacktowheniwassane]

stephen saying "don't be a fOol" in that tone of voice should earn him a tony. rn

man what is that gideon from criminal minds-

I can't unsee I'm sorry I'M SORRY 😭

cant even imagine how nasty they fucked after this

[foodieforthoughts]

Journey through time - Part 4

Summary: Your relationship with Syverson over the years.

Warning: Super fluff, get ready to grab tissues for your tears of joy

A/N: This got out of hand and I fantasized too much about wedding with Sy 😅 second-last part to go for this photo series (adding part 1, part 2 and part 3 for anyone who wants to read). Images taken from Pinterest and Google, if there are any inaccuracies please ignore because it is fictional.

Since Sy only had ten weeks until his next deployment, the preparation for the wedding was in full swing. He wanted a military wedding, proud as he was about his army life and since Syverson men were all in the army themselves, he wanted to stick to his family tradition. But the hurried wedding meant the army chappel was unavailable. His father suggested the wedding to take place in Austin, offering his house for the ceremony and since your parents did not mind, it was decided that you both will have your autumn wedding in the backyard of the house where he grew up.

You had sneakily asked Sy about his preferred wedding dress style. "I like the long ball gown type, you know, where you would look like a princess." He had suggested, smirking at you and seeing through your trick to find out about his liking. "And you would be the prince at the altar, in your uniform with the saber?" You always ended up sobbing when you thought about the wedding, making Sy cuddle you while assuring you he would do everything in his power to give you the best life possible. With his mother, your own mom and your cousins, you had shopped for dresses until you found the one which had all the ladies reaching for the box of tissues.

Since he was going to wear his uniform for the wedding, Sy couldn't keep the beard. The day Sy had to shave off his beard, you had tried to stifle your laughter while he had whined like a child. He had grown too attached to his facial hair, saying "This is a part of me, feels like I'm getting rid of a limb." Rest of the day you had to hear him complain about looking like a kid, having you to assure him in many ways how he was a man. It was also the day you were leaving to stay at the hotel, since seeing the bride before the wedding was bad luck and you did not want to take any chances. Sy took his time in relishing every moment spent with you, up until the time you had to leave, making you grab your discarded clothes in a hurry while your dad was waiting downstairs in the car.

You had never seen Sy cry, not even when you had made him watch sappy emotional movies. But when you walked down the aisle with your father by your side, in the soft autumn sunlight you saw your man's eyes glisten with tears. You couldn't hold in yours when you laid eyes on him, looking royal in his dress blues with his medals and ribbons decorating his chest. Sy's best man tapped him on his shoulder, saying something which made him nod along with his buddy. "You look beautiful." He had whispered to you when you came to stand next to him, making you blush more than you already were. You could barely speak while reciting your vows, taking a moment to breathe through the tears, finally getting it out with sniffles and wiping under your eyes as a stray tear escaped. When Sy kissed you as your husband, your world exploded and in that very instant you knew your life couldn't get any better.

The wedding reception was a blast. Your first dance with your husband was a tear-jerking moment for both of you. While you had unapologetically cried on his shoulder, Sy had sniffed his welling tears away. By the end of the night, you were tipsy with wine and Sy was getting his friends drunk. You had blushed beet-red when Sy had crawled under your gown to take your garter off effortlessly with his teeth, with everyone cheering on. After the reception, Sy had carried you to your room, pausing in the corridor for a kiss and then entering the room with you cradled in his arms. Giggling as the alcohol made you giddy, you had pulled Sy towards you on the bed by the lapel of his tux and commanded, "We're not getting any younger, Sy, take me as your wife and make me a mother." And Sy had followed your command obediently, taking you countless times in the night until the sun was up.

You and Sy escaped to Hawaii for your honeymoon with sandy beaches and salty air. The days were spent with you mostly lounging on the sand while Sy would take a swim. When you both weren't out at the beach or exploring the island, Sy would keep you busy by satiating his hunger for your body. Nights were spent with lots of cuddles and talks about the future, where you found out Sy was planning to leave the army for you. "As much as I hate to say goodbye to you, I don't want to be the reason why you let go of something you love to do." You had said, laying on his chest and playing with his fuzzy hair. "We'll figure it out together." He had answered, pulling your face up to him and taking your lips for a long kiss.

Sy always joked his beard grew faster than the speed of light. Before you knew it, your captain was back to looking like the rugged handsome hunk you had bumped into. One morning he was trimming the unruly fluff of his beard when you stormed inside the bathroom, holding your hand over your mouth. Dropping down on your knees you were emptying the contents of your stomach in the toilet, as waves of nausea washed over you. Sy was right by your side, rubbing his hand over your back and holding your hair away from your face. "Sy, I don't know I have a feeling we are going to get a jumpstart on your big family dream." Sy had laughed but when you took a test later in the day, he was left speechless. You had stared at him, waving your hand in front of his face while his eyes focused far off. But then he had hugged you so tightly, you were afraid you were going to run out of air. "I'm going to be a dad." He had kissed you before bending down to your belly and placing a gentle kiss on your stomach.

Before you knew it, it was time for Sy to leave again. But unlike last time, you were brave. You understood Sy had a lot to deal with once he was out there, you didn't want to pile your grief of parting ways on top of his worries. Still, somedays were difficult for you when you had to battle morning sickness alone, crying while clutching the toilet hoping if only Sy were there to comfort you. You tried not to tell him that though, while you talked on the phone you only listened to him as he described funny things that happened around camp. One day, out of the blue you got a call from him, dread filled you because Sy wasn't one to call in the middle of the day. Hearing his voice calmed you down because you had expected the worst possible news. "They are pulling out the troops from here." He had said, his voice buoyant with excitement. "I'm coming home, baby."

One would think being the captain in the army and taking care of men under his command, Sy would be reasonably calm about his impending parenthood. But it was the complete opposite and Sy was a mess. He was always making sure you were comfortable, feeding you until you were sure you were going to burst and most of all, fussing about getting the nursery ready on time. He had built a crib from scratch, being awfully proud about his handiwork while you had watched the carpenter in him come to life. He did practice rounds of driving to the hospital for when you went into labor, timing it like he was performing a drill, sometimes driving you insane by repeating it again and again. In the night, he would massage your painfully swollen ankles while you read him from a parenting book, laughing while he joked how he's not going to be this fussy for the next one. "Next one? This bun isn't even out of the oven yet and you are already planning on mixing the dough for the next batch." He would grin at you mischievously and very slyly say, "You see, mixing the dough is my favorite part." And the day when finally baby Adeline was born, Sy had cried like he had never before.

Continued to Part 5

[ohshit-itsyagorl]

Four Dipshits and a Michelle

Part 1 

Hey, Loves! This is a fanfiction I’ve been working on recently. Hope you like it!

Summary: Michelle never believed in soulmates. But what happens when she turns seventeen and gets her mark? What happens when she inevitably finds the person with the matching tattoo? And what is she supposed to do with Peter Parker. Her best friend in the whole world. Her crush. Someone she feels drawn to for some inexplicable reason.

Michelle Jones never understood the infatuation human society had with soulmates.

As a little girl full of hopes and dreams, she admits she was rather fond of the idea: someone out there who was perfect for her, someone who she could share her life with, her soul-bonded partner.

Until her mom got sick. And her dad started treating his wife like his own personal punching bag and then left them with barley enough money to get by. And that sucked, but Michelle could deal with it. She really could.

(But she was not okay.)

But after that initial honeymoon phase, after seeing a relationship that was supposedly written in the cosmos fall apart, she was wrenched back to a sad, logical reality.

After giving up on her soulmate, she found it grating how often it came up in seemingly normal discussion.

This, Michelle thought, was rather ridiculous, considering they were all freshman in high school, and wouldn’t be turning 17 for at least two years, three for most of them.

When she woke up on the morning of February 27th, she was not expecting the day to be anything special or different.

Trudging to the bathroom, half asleep with hair in her mouth, she thought she might pass out. Damn her for opting to take the PCB (physics, then chemistry, then biology) route instead of being normal like almost every other kid at Midtown Tech.

The only bonus to PCB was that she had the same kids in her science class every year. Betty and Cindy and Ned and Peter. The only downside was Flash, who was insufferable on the very best of days. He was also on the PCB track.

(Ugh.)

Point was, Michelle had stayed up super late the previous night studying for a massive test with Peter and Ned, and she was absolutely exhausted.

(Physics could be a bitch sometimes.)

“Hey, Sweetie, how did you sleep?” Her mom was laying on the couch, nose shoved into her book, right arm hooked up to an IV. When Michelle didn’t answer immediately, she looked up and let out a soft oh. “Rough night?” She asked.

Michelle sighed. “Yeah. Big test today. Studied with the losers last night.”

“Well, good luck, honey.” MJ started walking toward the door. “Oh, and, Michelle? Don’t call your friends losers.”

Michelle ran a hand through her hair, the chocolate curls a tangled mess perched atop her head.

————————————————————

“Hey, MJ.” Michelle looked up to see Peter waving at her, toothy grin and glasses and a dark blue sweater. She narrowed her eyes, shaking her head. Too early, Idiot.

Physics went as well as could be expected. Lunch was a different story.

“I can’t wait,” Betty said dreamily. “I wonder what they’ll look like.”

“I wonder what my soulmark will be,” Ned said, looking up from his English notes. “With my luck, it’ll be worse than that senior with a foot tattooed down the right side of his face.”

Michelle snorted. “Yeah, maybe it’ll be a giant dick or something.”

“Maybe yours’ll be a unicorn, MJ. You know, to match your personality,” Ned fired back.

She stiffened, looking around at the group. ‘‘I don’t want a soulmate,” she muttered.

“What? Why not?” Cindy exclaimed, her eyes almost comically wide.

Peter looked up at that. His glasses had fallen down his nose considerably, and he shoved them back up his face. Dork.

Michelle shrugged. “I just don’t. They’re pointless.”

“Well,” Peter started, “maybe one day you’ll change your mind.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not likely, Parker.”

“Tell that to your soul-bonded partner.”

A soft chorus of oohs echoed from the Table around her. She needed new friends.

“Whatever. Even if I find my soulmate, I’ll just avoid them like the plague. Shouldn’t be that hard with all my practice when it comes to you lot.”

Peter let out a small uh-huh, and went back to whatever the hell it was he was doing.

It wasn’t like she and Peter didn’t argue. As best friends, it was kind of part of the job description. But Peter and Ned already knew how she felt about soulmates and soulmarks. Michelle was surprised he had pushed her on that front. Weird.

She cleared her throat.

—————————————————————

Sophomore year rolled around, and with it came Academic Decathlon. Michelle befriended Liz almost immediately. She was so nice, and perfect, and smart.

About halfway through the year after a field trip for AcaDec, Peter missed school for over a week. Something about catching a bug on the trip. On day 10, Michelle went to his apartment.

May opened the door. “Oh, hey, MJ! Peter is in his room. He’ll be glad to see you,” she said, a smile gracing her face.

Michelle walked past May with a small nod of acknowledgement. When she entered Peter’s room, she was fairly surprised to see that he, in fact, did actually look very sick. He was on the floor covered in sweat and shaking.

“Ohmigod, Peter! Are you okay?”

“Oh, MJ. Didn’t know you cared. How sweet of you,” he managed through chattering teeth.

“I don’t, Loser. Here,” Michelle leaned down, “let me help you to your bed.”

“No!” Peter scrambled backward over a pile of schoolwork, the pages sticking to his hands. The sweat, probably, thought Michelle

She quirked an eyebrow.

“I, uh—I don’t want to get you sick, is all,” he explained.

“Whatever, Loser,” she said. “I brought you your schoolwork, so… here you go.” She dropped the stack onto his unoccupied bed, spared Peter one more glance, shrugged, and turned to walk out of the room.

“MJ, wait. Thank you, for, uh, for the schoolwork.”

She flipped him off on the way out the door. Weirdo.

Peter started changing after that. He started filling out his shirts more. She figured he had started working out or something.

Not that she was looking at him. Because she wasn’t.

He no longer wore glasses, and dropped out of marching band and robotics club. He disappeared at nationals, showing up only for the ride home after the fiasco at the Washington Monument (of all the times to gain a rebellious streak AcaDec nationals was not the time or the place). Michelle glared at him nonstop for a week after that.

People started avoiding the topic of soulmates and soulmarks around her, knowing it was a touchy subject.

Over the course of the year, Michelle grew closer to Peter and Ned than the other kids in Acadec.

—————————————————————

“MJ?” Peter looked back at her from where he was squatting down in front of the DVD player. He was wearing sweats and a math pun t-shirt that stretched tightly across his chest. His arms across his legs were lithe and muscled. How had she never noticed before…

And she was staring. Michelle blushed furiously. Peter smirked. She flipped him off. He chuckled.

“What do you want?” She asked. His hair was gelled back like every day, but it was a bit mussed, falling onto his forehead. Her blood heated. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, wondered how soft it would be.

Peter ran a hand through said hair, biting his lip. “Have you—uh—have you ever seen The Princess Bride?” He asked.

MJ rolled her eyes. This boy. “Bits and pieces. I was never really interested in that mushy, gushy, sappy shit. Besides, we are not watching that.”

“Uh, yeah, we are. It’s simply tragic how your previous social circle failed you,” he said, scrunching his nose up. It was cute annoying.

Michelle squinted at him, mouth becoming a thin line. He smiled back innocently. She flipped him off. Again.

She relented in the end.

Peter hopped up next to where she was sitting, stretching his arms up and over the back of the couch. Michelles’s eyes snagged on the bit of exposed skin where his shirt had ridden up. Were those… abs? She shook her head, looking back toward the now-glowing TV screen. Her nerdy best friend Peter Parker could not have abs. But.

Michelle had to admit that the movie wasn’t actually as bad as she had initially thought. The reason for that was mostly Peter. The absolute dweeb was acting out the fight scenes with himself. Watching Peter try and punch and defend himself at the same time was pretty funny.

MJ looked over at Peter during the end of the movie. He was looking at her.

“Why don’t you believe in soulmates?” He blurted, then proceeded to clap a hand over his mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry. You really, uh, really don’t have to answer that.”

And maybe it was the laughter they had shared together. Maybe it was the way she felt safe around him, or how his hair curled behind his ears, but, “My parents were soulmates. It—it didn’t work out."

That was all she was willing to share.

Peter nodded, swallowing thickly and looking back to the movie. “I think Ned’s right,” he said. Michelle raised an eyebrow at him. He cleared his throat, “Your soulmark is definitely going to be a unicorn. Or a pegasus. Or a rainb—”

“Shut up, Parker.”

Peter raised his hands defensively, grinning.

They talked for another hour, but Peter couldn’t seem to drop the conversation about soulmates.

“Hey, MJ?” He said, giving her a curious look.

Michelle hummed.

Peter ran a hand through his hair. With all the posing while acting out the movie, it looked like he had just gotten out of bed. Maybe even just had—

No. Best friend. Peter was her best friend. Nothing more.

“On your birthday,” he ventured, “when you get your mark, will you tell me about it? We could, like, make fun of each other’s or something. Once I get mine, that is.”

Michelle hesitated. Then: “Sure, okay. Yeah, that sounds good.”

Peter beamed at her and her heart did a backflip. It was worth talking about her soulmark to see that smile, different from his usually timid upturned lips. She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Awesome! What are best friends for if not to make fun of shit,” he said.

Best friend. The words stung a bit, even if they were true.

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

Junior year came faster than any of them expected, and with it, standardized testing. Michelle was sad that Liz had moved away the year prior when her dad was caught selling alien technology illegally, but she was excited to be team captain this year. She, Peter, and Ned had all celebrated with aLord of the Rings movie marathon, but over the past few months, Peter and Ned had been sharing hushed conversations. MJ wasn’t sure what was going on, but it made her feel kind of shitty—like she was being pushed out of their friend group.

But then Peter would shoot her a shy smile, and she would feel a little better. There was definitely something going on, though.

Betty got her mark over the summer—a small cat’s eye in the palm of her left hand—but she had had no luck finding the person with the matching tattoo, much to her chagrin.

Michelle truly felt like she was rocketing toward her birthday. Somehow, she and Peter had found a way to turn her soulmate into a bit of a joke, which helped. A little.

That’s how Michelle found herself on the phone with Peter, wearing a tank top and shorts in the middle of winter, watching the seconds tick down to midnight.

“I’m so excited,” Peter said over the phone. “I can’t wait to see if it’s a unicorn or a pegasus.”

“Can it, Parker,” Michelle snapped. She was strangely terrified, though she wasn’t sure why.

“Okay, Magic Princess Unicorn—”

“I mean it, Pete.”

“Ten seconds, MJ.”

“Shit,” she whispered, hands shaking as she hastily put Peter on speaker, and set down the phone, turning to face the floor-length mirror.

“Do you see anything?” He asked. Did he sound… nervous?

Michelle scanned her arms and legs in the mirror, turned around and did the same on the back. “Fuck.”

“What?” Peter said, voice crackling over the phone. “What is it? Is it a Unicorn?”

“No,” Michelle gasped out. “I don’t see anything.”

It was true she didn’t want anything to do with her soulmate, but it did hurt that she didn’t even have one.

She let out a sob, then slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

“MJ—MJ, calm down. It’s probably just somewhere else. Try taking your clothes off.” Michelle felt her toes curl into the carpet, her breath hitched. “Fuck,” Peter said. “I didn’t mean it like that—fuck, that came out wrong.”

You don’t need to apologize, Michelle thought. Instead, she nodded, then, realizing he couldn’t see her over the phone, she cleared her throat and said, “No, I get it—what you meant, I mean.” She cringed, Christ, she was absolutely horrible at this. “God, I hope it’s not on my ass.”

Peter let out a bark of laughter. Michelle smiled, then remembered her situation, frowned.

“Stop frowning, you’ll get premature wrinkles,” Peter said.

Michelle frowned deeper. “How do you know I’m frowning?”

“I know you, MJ. Now stop frowning. There’s only one way to know if you have a tattoo on your ass,” Peter said, choking on the last word. “Just check.”

Michelle loosed a breath. “Okay. I guess you’re right.”

She turned back toward the mirror, reaching for the waistband of her shorts and underwear, pulling them both down at the same time. Nothing on the front. She shimmied around a bit, before giving in and stepping out of her shorts. She glanced over her shoulder into the mirror. Nothing.

She took off her tank top next, checking her back first, since she was already facing in that direction. Still nothing. She turned around and ran her fingers over her stomach. Nothing there, either. Goddammit.

She slowly reached back to unclasp her bra and let it slide down her arms. “Mother fucker,” she said quietly.

She’s not sure how, but Peter heard her. “MJ? What’s the status? Did you find it?”

“Yeah, I did. And I fucking hate the universe.” She hissed.

Peter laughed nervously. “Well, what is it? Where is it?”

“Like hell I’m telling you!” MJ screeched.

“C’mon, Michelle, we had a deal!” Peter said. She could picture him laying down in bed, then sitting up abruptly, hair mussed like that night they had watched The Princess bride together. And that strip of skin she’d glimpsed and—fuck, she was thinking about him while she was naked.

“Peter, I literally had to take all my clothes off just to find it. I am not telling you about this ever. God, this is so humiliating.” Michelle looked in the mirror again and winced. Staring back a her was her naked body, dark skin gleaming in the moonlight, curls coming down over her breasts. She moved her hair out of the way to get a better look at her mark, and… there it was. A fist-size black spider sitting in the middle of her left breast, right over her nipple. She groaned, burying her face in the crook of her elbow.

“Oh, c’mon, M. It can’t be that bad,” Peter said.

“It’s bad, Pete,” Michelle sighed. “Well, at least this way my soulmate won’t be able to see my mark.”

Michelle stroked a finger over one of the spider’s legs and shivered. Peter swore over the phone.

“What?” Michelle asked.

“Nothing,” Peter said, though his voice was shaky. “Just got a shiver. That’s what I get for not wearing a shirt.

This boy.

And now she was picturing him shirtless. Fuck. With that mussed-up hair. Double-fuck. She looked down to find that the hand near her breast had grabbed on, kneading the soft flesh. Holy mother of god, an infinite amount of fucks. But it felt good. Really good. She let out a quiet moan.

“MJ? What’s going on, are you okay?” How the ever-living hell did Peter keep hearing her? She could barely hear herself.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she managed. Thankfully she sounded normal, if not a little breathy. “Just a little messed up after seeing the mark, you know? I wasn’t expecting to feel so… attached to it.” Because that’s what it was, she realized. She could already feel her connection to someone else, and she hated herself for loving it, for craving that sensation to be stronger.

“Okay. We should probably both go to sleep anyway,” Peter said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” He sounded worried, but he was willing to give her space. That was one of the things she valued most about their friendship.

“Yeah,” Michelle said. Then, when she heard him start to shift, presumably on his bed (God help her), she interrupted, “and, Peter?” He hummed in response. “Put a shirt on. It’s cold out.”

He grunted. “Yeah, will do, M.”

Somehow Michelle got the feeling he wasn’t going to put on a shirt. Idiot.

Part 2

[pizzabookbuying]

10 comfort movies & wildcard

I got tagged by @natsugia and honestly feel so attacked rn because apparently I’m incapable of summoning any works of fiction to mind that aren’t episodes of Gilmore girls here’s my very very labored attempt I guess (these probably aren’t in any specific order except in which they came to mind) I should probably say spoilers because I don’t know when to stop talking

1. Twilight? The first one? Maybe?

I was very late to the twilight hype and only started reading/watching the series a few years ago. HOWEVER dear lord the movies are so bad they’re good. The amount of times I’ll be talking to someone and have to fight the urge to not quote these movies are rediculous. I meAn come oN “hold on tight spider monkey” ?!! “SAY IT” “...a vAmpire” iconic. Truly iconic. I’ve definitely seen the first one the most and I like the tone the best, it’s got weird vibes and I like it. But also the shot spinning around Bella while she’s being emo because Edward left? Yes please. (Breaking Dawn part 2 is also hilarious, Dakota fanning yeeting a baby into the fire? Aro and his horrid laugh? “You nicknamed my baby after the Loch Ness monster?!!!”)

2. Zombieland

It’s a family favorite, what can I say. If I’m watching TV and it comes on I am legally obligated to finish the movie.

3. Princess Bride

Another movie I grew up watching and have yet to get tired of. It also doesnt help that sophomore year of high school I read the book and it just pulled me deeper into its thralls. It’s the perfect movie to put on when you’re sick so you can pretend you’re the kid whose brother was in boy meets world. (Also, it’s very very quotable)

4. The Hunger Games Series, particularly Catching Fire

This series is one of the very few exceptions to rule of “I don’t tend to watch things when they first come out because reasons” It was all aboard the hype train for me. And I loved every second. The second movie really feels like the pinnacle of the series to me, though. The first film’s costuming and art design feels a little tacky at times (looking at you weird training garb) but the second film mmm so good. The mockingjays had some weird tonal shifts and were missing the great costuming of the first two (it works from a story standpoint but still) Plus, it means the ensemble cast is at its best, the introduction of some truly spectacular characters and most of the main cast doesn’t die this time! Plus plus I just really really love the party scene at snow’s house. Ooh and the training part with peeta’s painting and Katniss’s doll lol.

5. Scooby Doo Spooky Island & Scooby Doo Monsters Unleashed

Listen. It’s a weird pick. I know it is. BUT I cannot emphasize how much I loved Scooby Doo growing up. I had the box sets for the original series and what’s new scooby doo. I loved it. So watching the movies just gives me the warm gooeys inside. They’re just so delightfully rediculous.

6. Pretty in Pink

Duckie. My boy deserved better.

7. Pride and Prejudice

I’m basic and love hands.

8. Pretty much any period drama tbh

Anna Karenina? Yep. Although, the feels may be too strong.

The duchess? Not as good but acceptable.

Marie Antoinette? Slightly questionable in historic accuracy but damn if those aesthetics don’t do it for you. It’s a very pretty movie.

9. Made of Honor

Is it an objectively good movie? No. It’s rather questionable at times and doesn’t have a great theme. But, it’s a mom movie. I sit down, I snuggle in, and it’s like im watching it for the first time as a middle schooler wedges between my mom and a bowl of popcorn. It’s something I can watch and feel annoyingly comforted by. (Plus it’s Derek! And Owen! Even though I hate Owen, he’s very nice here!)

10. To All the Boys I’ve loved before. I guess.

The movie has similar yet very different vibes to Gilmore girls. It has that sense of safeness and comfort that shots of the town gazebo have. It’s also based off a great book series. Although my view of the movies has been seriously damaged by the second movie (my ship was ruined! Ruined I say!) I’ve still watched the first about a thousand times. (And when I say the second movie was bad let me just explain two things, my favorite character got all of 10 minutes of screen time, was used as a plot device, and the director seemed to find it necessary to include a scene of the main character gliding down the hallway lip sincing to a very emo song while also making direct eye contact with the camera. I was horrified.)

So Wildcard. I don’t really know how wild I’m allowed to get here, mostly because I scroll through about #2 on other peoples lists and get bored and yeet out. But, idk maybe atonement? That perhaps doesn’t seem wild but it’s one of my favorite movies and yet I haven’t seen the entirety of it. I’ve seen clips, read the wiki, and cried because NO. It also includes James McAvoy and I’m just now realizing I didnt even mention the X-men movies, which I love. Whatever. This whole list has been a wildcard.

Time to Tag!! Except I have this paralysing fear of rejection so instead I’m just gonna say if you’ve somehow made it through that horrid list YAY you just got tagged! Unless, of course, you don’t want to, in which case, I’m not tagging you and you don’t have to feel weird about not continuing the chain. If you do end up doing this because I somehow inspired your list making feel free to mention me so I can scroll down to your #2 and get bored. I’ll still heart it though, I promise!

[ezilyamuzed]

Everyone Needs a Sam - Chapter 3

Series Masterlist

Summary: Two Sam’s in the Winchester family is better than one. 

Word count: 3491

Warnings: Language. Fluff. Mentions of Menstruation (you know because some people get grossed out) 

A/N: Writing from Dean’s POV. It gets a little interesting and the fun has just began since this is my comedy fic, although I can’t help but to add some fluff.

As always comments and feedback are welcomed (GIVE ME LOVE). Any errors are completely my own because I am human. If you want a tag in this or anything pop into the ASK box. Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

Dean’s POV

Dean stumbled into the Bunker later than usual that night. While justifying his actions earlier as protecting Samantha from the dangers of a one night stand with a random guy, what he was doing was actually for selfish reasons. Sam, the girl they had saved and well, sort of adopted into the family. She was unlike most of the female hunters he had ever met. While she was not afraid of putting herself into the job and taking down anything that stood in her way there was a light in her. She was able to be daring, compassionate, understanding, while also full of sarcasm and laughter. Dean often admired how she always was able to just be herself, even when she had to pretend to be someone else for the job. It seemed like nothing ever got to her.

He had gone the last couple months seeing her flirt with any guy that dared to approach her, only stepping in when he felt that she needed protection. She never need protection though, hell she even scared him when she was mad enough. He had seen the rage in her eyes in the midst of decapitating something, often brushing it off with a satisfied smile afterwards. The blood and guts didn’t faze her, it was just another day at the office for her.

The revelation of his attraction didn’t come quickly during their time spent together, but soon after about 6 weeks he realized what he was feeling was actually jealousy when he watched her leave with other guys instead of him. He wanted to be the one her shinning eyes sparkled at as she whispered sweet nothings mixed with dirty promises into their ears. This was new territory for him, and honestly it scared him shitless. She was just like one of the guys. He could burp in front of her usually with her outdoing his in return, check out other girls while she gave insight on who was probably ready to go, have arguments over stupid television shows, talk about his latest conquests with laughter, and she actually listened to him when he was having a bad day. She was just…perfect. Not the type of normal girl you would picture bringing home to mom, but that was never what he wanted. Of course he could never actually say, “I love you Sam” without his brother or even her making a joke out of it. Although she didn’t like it, he liked the way the name Samantha sounded in his head. Probably a kink from watching Bewitched too many times as a kid, but nonetheless to him she was his Samantha. She would kill him though if he ever called her that. Red had become her name when spoken out loud, for he was the huntsman that would save her from any of the big bad that to dared touch her.

He decided to test out the water during that night of watching her favorite movie. The damn Princess Bride. In the short amount of time he had known her, they had already hit lucky #7 in times of watching it together. When she thought it was all a joke of him confessing his feelings, Dean decided to go with it, protecting the little bit of his pride he still had after putting himself out there. Her face was so beautiful as she laughed with little tear drops moving out of the corner of her eyes while he continued tickling until she said it. He wanted to hear those words from her mouth, even if she didn’t mean it. Watching those shinning eyes looking back at him as she tried to slow her breath when he finally stopped torturing her with his touch, he couldn’t help himself but to taste her lips. He was careful not to be too aggressive, and just see how she responded with the little touch of his lips, barely hitting hers. Her face widening in shock at his action gave him all the answers he needed. She just didn’t feel the same making him quickly run out while he still had some dignity left.

Every time that Sammy wasn’t around with them, he just didn’t know what to say to her anymore. He wanted to grab her by the waist and kiss her passionately like they do in all the sappy movies she made him watch, that he secretly grew to love. He wanted to give her the same cheesy speeches about how he didn’t know what love was until he met her, but she would just laugh. Hell, she would probably just leave. That thought brought ache to his heart even more than never telling her. Now that she was here, he never wanted to let her go even if it meant that she would never be fully his.

Walking drunkenly towards her bedroom now, Dean had built up enough liquid courage to finally tell her. Her blow up at the bar made him terrified that this was it, she was going to leave for good. As he approached her door he could see the light was still on, but no noises were heard on the other side. He slowly pushed it open, revealing the two Sam’s laying asleep. She was nestling herself into his brothers chest, while his arm was wrapped around her. They looked peaceful, hell they looked like they were meant for each other.

“Well this is interesting,” Dean grumbled while rubbing his hands over the scruff on his face.

He noticed the empty decanter laying on the floor, moving towards it to pick it up. It was filled before he had left, but he guessed they had probably enjoyed it before finding themselves in each other’s arms. Dean felt sick to his stomach as he moved to click off the light by her head. Seeing her with anyone else was hard enough, he could always find a good reason to cover why he hated them, but Sam? He could never hate him. She started to stir as Dean turned off the light, nuzzling herself more into Sam as she moaned silently. A whisper of a name escaping her lips. “Dean.”

He turned to look at her still sleeping face and smiled. “Well that is interesting.”

The next morning Dean woke up and followed the intoxicating smell that lingered from the kitchen. Bacon. He saw her standing there in those damn little shorts with an oversized t-shirt dancing around to ‘Crazy Train’ on the radio with her hair thrown up in a messy bun. His favorite sight of her, when she was truly herself and didn’t know anyone is watching. He walked up behind her as she scooped up the bacon from the frying pan onto a plate on the counter. He grabbed her waist with his right hand while reaching to the plate to grab some off the plate with his left.

“You touch that and I will cut off your God damn hand,” she growled.

“Whoa! Somebody is in a mood,” he said while defensively holding his hands up in the air. She didn’t even bother to turn around to him, but grabbed the plate and moved past him without a blink towards the kitchen table.

Sam walked in while rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his hair in a tangled mess all over his head. Dean snickered to himself as he watched his brother sit down at the table, sitting next to her. Sam yawned while running his fingers through his hair, trying to smooth it out as Samantha quietly ate the bacon she had prepared while playing on her laptop. She was probably trying to find a case. Dean took in the sight as he watched them from the other side of the room while pouring himself a cup of coffee. His two Sam’s, both giant pains in the asses that he loved and would do anything for.

“So how was your sleepover?” Dean smirked while taking a sip of the hot liquid from his cup.

The trademarked “Sam-bitch-face” displayed on both of them, making Dean see that they were not amused. Stiffening their facial features, grinding their teeth while their eyes pointed at him like little daggers. Sam shook his head as if telling his brother not to bring it up, while she rolled her eyes and went back to the screen in front of her.

“Okay then…” Dean said while moving to sit alongside the table with them. “Any cases come up yet? I’m dying here. Again.”

Samantha let out a low chuckle while typing away feverishly on her the keyboard. Sam yawned and said something about going for a jog, leaving Dean to be alone with the definitely still mad Samantha. If his brother had said anything other than ‘jog’, Dean would have ran away with him. Sitting in awkward silence together, with the only noise coming from her keyboard Dean finally decided it was time to address the elephant in the room.

“Look, Sam, I am sorry for last night. That guy just didn’t look right.”

“None of the guys ever look right Dean,” she huffed while pushing down the screen of her laptop closed. “I think I found a case.”

“Oh really? What…”

“When Sam gets back I’ll show you,” she said while jumping out of her seat and heading out the room in a hurry.

“Well okay then,” Dean shrugged. Whatever the hell was going on with her, he sure as hell was not going to push it.

Samantha had locked herself in her room for the better part of the morning while Sam was on his jog. Dean felt restless and useless waiting on them. He had gotten so used to the way they all worked together and just hung out that being alone was just…weird anymore. Trying to find something to do he gathered up all of his dirty clothes to clean them in the washer/dryer combo Samantha said that they needed. Apparently girls have to do laundry more than twice a month. As he tossed in his clothes he noticed a pile of hers sitting on the floor. Her favorite band t-shirt, a couple of pairs of jeans and some undergarments that Dean tried to not think about too much. He tossed them in and started the washer up, feeling somewhat accomplished that he could do something nice for her even though he had acted like a complete dick.

He heard his brother call out to him saying that he was finally back. About damn time. Dean walked into the war room to see that both Sam’s were already huddled in front of the dimly lit computer screen going over something that might be the ticket out of their boredom.

“So get this..,” Samantha announced, making Dean chuckle to himself at how she sounded exactly like his brother. “Town has 9 missing people’s reports in the last two weeks, but that’s not it some of the town’s officials and more popular figures seemed to have changed personalities. Like this guy, Baptist minister who last month held an anti-homosexual life campaign is now in trying to establish a pride parade.”

“Maybe he was in denial,” Dean spoke up. He gave a little shrug as Samantha scoffed at him.

“There are more on here that are crazy. A doctor whom worked at a women’s clinic was apprehended before setting off a homemade bomb in the office.”

“Sounds maybe like demons,” Sam said while looking over at her. “Where is this at?”

“Not too far from here,” she replied. “Just over the state line in Nebraska.”

“Um, I’m going to call Cas and see if he has heard anything about it,” Dean said while pulling out his phone.

“I’ve got to do some laundry,” Sam said while getting up from the table.

“Hey dude, throw my stuff in the dryer will ya?” Dean yelled out while walking and dialing Cas’s number.

Sam, Dean, and Cas were all going over everything that Samantha had found on the case, creating the best plan of action since none of the people really had any connection to each other. It was going to take acting skills and charm to find out more once they got there. Dean had already cracked open beer number 3 by the time he heard her roaring in.

“Who did it?” Samantha barked while stomping into the room holding a metal wire in her hand and one of Dean’s shirts all balled up in the other. She slammed them both on the table, red faced mad over something that did not make a lick of sense to any of them. “Who stuck my bra in the dryer?”

Sam and Dean glanced at each other nervously. Sam might have been the one to put it in the dryer, but Dean was the one who had put it in the clothes in the first place. Cas of course sitting between them furrowing his eyebrows at Samantha questioning why it mattered in his head. She grinded her teeth more as she shifted her eyes between them.

“Leave my stuff alone!” She yelled while throwing the shirt with a now noticeable intertwined bra wrapped around it. Lady clothes washing rules were definitely not something they were taught in school.

“Listen Red…,” Dean started to speak up but his brother interrupted him.

“It just got mixed up in the laundry somehow. We will replace it,” he smiled.

“You better replace it,” she sneered while walking away to her room, her heels clicking louder than usual on the hard floor.

Dean gave his brother a nod in relief, thanking him. He had just covered his ass big time. Samantha had now went from grumpy to a ticking time bomb, that none of them wanted to set off.

“Is a bra an important thing that Sam needs?” Cas asked with puzzlement.

Dean chuckled while looking at his brother. “Yeah, Sam. Is it important?”

“Shut up Dean,” he retorted. “You are the one that has to go replace it.”

“Yeah, okay. What do I just do? Walk into Victoria’s secret and… yup, never mind I’ll go,” Dean said with a wink while a devilish smile raised on his lips.

Cas was always good for a laugh when it came to Samantha. He often became perplexed in the social norms of females, which led to a lot of entertaining questions. He was now holding the wire and bra in his hands while studying them.

“I do not see how the usefulness of this.”

“It’s to hold in and up boobs Cas,” Dean said while finishing off his beer, ready for another before he had to venture into a shopping mall.

“It seems more like a torture device for Sam’s breasts,” Cas said while now bending the wire back and forth in his hands with his eyes squinting at it, making Dean chuckle towards his brother. Cas made it too easy. “What is Victoria’s secret?”

“The world will never know Cas,” Dean laughed while taking another sip. “Has Sam seemed, off to you guys?”

“Maybe a little,” his brother shrugged, not wanting to divulge any of the things she had spilled out about the night before.

“Not a little man, I mean she is like ready to rip someone’s head off. I don’t know if she should be going out there.”

Just as Dean finished his words she walked back in behind him, now angrier than ever. The wide-eyed stare from his brother told him to turn around, but he so desperately did not want to since her glare was already burning into the back of his head. She had that same look in her eyes like right before a kill. Dean opened his mouth while helplessly looking at the others.

“You don’t think I can do the damn job?” she screamed with her face turning as red as blood.

“Sam, it’s not that…” his brother started to reply.

“I’m just the poor pathetic little girl that the big bad boys have to watch over,” she growled. “You know what, you can all just bite me!”

Cas moved to stand in front of her now, furrowing his eyes to her face as if he was looking for something. He turned to Dean and Sam, whom were petrified of her next action. Dean grabbed the remaining of his beer from the table, hoping that she wouldn’t use it bash his head in. He took a long swallow as Cas spoke up.

“I do believe that Sam is in the process of menstruating,” Cas confirmed assertively.

His words made Dean choke on the liquid as he tried to swallow it all down. His brother sat there holding back a laugh at Dean’s reaction, not wanting to be the target of her fury. Dean couldn’t help himself from but to smile at his brother while wagging his eyebrows.

“Sammy, I didn’t know it was your time.”

Samantha threw her middle finger up at them and stomped out of the room again, slamming her door hard enough that the echo knocked over some books off their spots on the shelves. The three men all shifting glances back and forth to each other.

“Well I guess that explains it,” Sam said while moving himself to replace the fallen books.

“Why is this the first time she is acting like…like that though,” Dean quietly asked, while looking over his shoulder to ensure that she was not coming from behind him again.

“I don’t know Dean. I mean, usually about this time we are in the middle of a hunt fighting and killing something,” Sam shrugged. “She does push to take lead some of the time.”

“So because we don’t have a monster to gank she is after us?”

“Well it is mostly you,” Sam snickered to himself. “But come on Dean, it can’t be easy for a girl to spend all of her time with us guys, even for Sam.”

Dean stood silently, processing what his brother had said. Things seemed so easy between them all. Was she just pretending with them? Living with Lisa had given him some clue to what goes on, but she was not like Samantha. She had her own traditions that Dean would just step away from which included ice cream and crying about the simplest things. An idea formed into his head as he grabbed his keys to go on a supply run.

“I’ve got something I have to do,” Dean said while running up the bunker stairs. “And find a calendar to start marking this shit down!”

After almost 4 hours later, Dean stood at her closed door nervous with various bags in his hands. After taking in a deep breath for courage on what he might face on the other side of the door, he had managed to knock twice. She opened to door, giving him a confused look.

“What do you want?” she snarled.

Dean held up his hands to show her the bags. She rolled her eyes and sat down on her bed, grabbing a book she must have been reading. Dean hesitantly stepped in and sat the bags down.

“I, ah…got you somethings,” he mumbled. “First here is your replacement. I hope I got the right size.”

She looked up and saw him holding the pink bag filled with tissue paper. She let out a chuckle and grabbed it, nodding in approval after unwrapping it.

“I also got you some other things,” Dean said while shifting through the rest of the bags. He pulled out a variety pack of tampons, two giant Hershey bars, a box of Advil, and her favorite flavor of Ben and Jerry’s before he pulled out a small bouquet of daisies, remembering once that she said they were her favorite.

“I’m not dying you know,” she huffed while taking the items from him and putting them down on her dressers. “Thank you though, Dean. It actually means a lot. I’m sure buying some of this wasn’t exactly comfortable for you.”

“Nonsense,” he scoffed. “I’m a renaissance man.”

Her eyes squinted with her eyebrows pushing together while she let out a full body laugh. God it felt good to Dean to hear that noise again. His anxiety ridden and awkward adventures at the stores had definitely paid off.

“I also thought maybe we could just, I don’t know hang out and watch a movie,” he said while pulling a DVD out.

“Did you really buy ‘The Notebook’?” she laughed again after reading the cover. “Dean, really that’s not necessary.”

“Just put it on before I change my mind,” he growled with a grin.

She grabbed it from him and put it in the player before moving back to her bed. Dean pulled out two spoons that he had grabbed from the kitchen earlier and sat down next to her with the Ben & Jerry’s in his hand. This was exactly where he wanted to be in the world, next to his Samantha.

 Tags: @curly-haired-disaster @snffbeebee

[thewonderfulkatsukinikifrovs]

Hi! Two hugs for a fluffy kid fic of victuuri? Cute kid crush x}

Okay, I have to warn you. There are spoilers below for The Princess Bride, of all things. Also, speculation as to the existence of Santa. Proceed at your own peril.

Trouble. That’s the word Yuuri’s teachers used. Every time Victor got put in the corner for a time out, or was scolded, or stole crayons from girls, or rough housed with the other boys, the word they always used was trouble.

Yuuri, on the other hand, was a good boy. Yuuri never got into trouble. He never made trouble either. His mother had always praised him for that. She’d pinch his cheeks and tell him what a good boy he always was every night when dinner was served. She’d give him a smile and his favourite dish as rewards for his manners. Yuuri knew that he should stay away from trouble for her - stay away from Victor. But when trouble comes to you, there’s little anyone can do to stop it.

“Why do you play with Yuko?” Yuuri bit his lip and tried to keep his nose down in his picture book. Yuko sat beside him like she always did during recess. Beneath the big tree at the edge of the schoolyard, they’d perch themselves in the shade, arms linked, reading Harry Potter, or Percy Jackson. Once they tried to start Twilight. Yuuri didn’t like that one. Victor was intruding on that time, as far as Yuuri was concerned. “She’ll give you cooties.”

“Cooties?” The girl asked, playing with the end of her ponytail. “What’s cooties.”

“Cooties. They’re girl germs,” Victor elaborated, puffing out his chest and clutching a big, red, rubber ball under one arm. He seemed pleased with himself and his explanation. Even if Yuuri thought it didn’t make sense. “Girls make boys sick. That’s what they say.”

“I always read with Yuko and I never get sick.”

“Yeah,” she whined, cuddling closer into her friend’s side. “I don’t make him sick.”

“That’s just the cooties talking,” the other boy huffed. “You should come play with me. Then your cooties will get better.”

“No, go away!”

Victor pouted but didn’t deflate at that. “Fine. We can play when you’re not with your dumb girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Yuuri bristled as he watched Victor skip back over to the other kids playing four-square on the pavement. Why would Victor even want to play with Yuuri when there were so many other kids just like him? He should just leave them alone to read.

“Yuuri! Yuuri! Do you wanna play a game?” Victor had been waiting outside the big double doors leading out to the schoolyard the next day. He was smiling a big toothy smile, eyes fluttering and cheeks rosy as he saw his would-be play-mate.

“I was gonna read with Yuko,” he said, pressing his new library book close to his chest. “I always read with Yuko.”

“But Yuko’s playing tag today,” Victor said. “They said it’s girls only. But I don’t care. They have cooties anyways.”

Yuuri pouted. She hadn’t told him she was playing tag. Why would it be girls only? That’s rude. He marched on ahead passed Victor, trying not to let the news get to him. “I’ll read on my own then.”

“You still wanna read?” He could hear sneakers padding along behind him. Yuuri tried not to tense up too much as ha hand fell on his shoulder. “What are you reading then?”

“The Princess Bride,” Yuuri answered, blushing. Victor would probably just make fun of him for that.

The jab of an elbow, the smack to the head, the laughter, the jeering about cooties, none of it happened. Instead Victor brightened and blinked his wide blue eyes and yelled out at the top of his lungs. “That’s my favourite movie!”

Yuuri stopped in his tracks. “Mine too. I wanted to read the book for so long.”

“I love Wesley! He’s so cool!” Victor fell into a mock fighting stance and poked at Yuuri like he was jabbing him with a sword. The other boy giggled as he was jabbed in the tummy. “He’s like batman but better.”

“I like Buttercup,” Yuuri blushed. “Her clothes are so pretty and flowy. And her hair is-”

“You like long hair?” Victor asked, jumping happily at the turn this conversation was taking. “I do too! I want to grow mine out but Papa won’t let me.”

“You’d look nice with long hair,” Yuuri said, trying to picture the tall, slender boy with his chin up and hair down.

“You think so?” Victor asked, smile sweet as he could manage.

“Yeah, I do.”

Days went by. Weeks went by. Months went by. Bit-by-bit Yuuri could see it. Everyone was getting taller. The girls were starting to pack together and talk about things Yuuri couldn’t understand. The boys became even rougher than before and soon enough they split off between the kids who rough housed and the ones sitting in circles playing Nintendo games in groups.

Yuuri fit into neither, so he tried standing with Yuko as she played with the other girls (which happened more and more these days.) But they always gave him weird looks. Especially as winter rolled around and they started whispering about girl-talk. That’s when Yuuri stopped trying and went back to reading The Princess Bride under the big tree.

He wasn’t alone though. The first day he turned Yuko down to read, Victor came sauntering over, all confidence. He wore his hair in a short ponytail as his hair grew, little-by-little. He was changing, just like everyone else around Yuuri. He knew he said Victor would look nice with long hair but he still missed how it used to look.

“You haven’t finished yet?”

Yuuri shook his head, shuffling over for Victor to take a seat beside him. The platinum blonde took the opportunity and squeezed in close, keeping the two warm in the winter snow.

“What part are you at?”

“The part where the dread pirate Roberts reveals he was Wesley the whole time,” Yuuri said, pointing to the line he had stopped at. “I haven’t gotten very far.”

“Obviously not,” Victor huffed. Yuuri’s eyes followed the smoky breath rising from Victor’s mouth and wondered if the breath could warm him up. All he’d have to do was ask Victor to hold his hands and breath on them. A blush covered his cheeks at the idea. That would be too much. “Isn’t this a kissy bit?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri nodded. “Does it bother you? Because cooties?”

“Nah,” Victor said. “Papa told me cooties aren’t real. He says they’re made up. Like Santa.”

“Santa’s not-”

“Why do they like to kiss so much?” Victor groaned, cutting off the shaking of Yuuri’s belief in Christmas. “Grown ups, I mean. It’s just touching. People touch all the time.”

Yuuri just shrugged, letting his eyes wander back to the page and the description of the “kissy bit” Victor seemed so fixated on. “I don’t know why.”

“Georgi told me he kissed Anya,” Victor announced, rolling his eyes. Yuuri wasn’t sure that he should be hearing any of this. “He’s always with Anya now. Anya this. Anya that. He’s got no time for me anymore.”

“Maybe we’ll understand when it happens,” Yuuri suggested. Victor looked up at him, lips parted and hair blowing in the chilled wind. “Kisses are special like that, right?”

“Special?”

“My Mom says you kiss people who are special,” Yuuri went on, blinking away the snowflakes getting caught in his lashes. “That’s why Dads kiss Moms and why Mari kisses her girlfriend and why Mom gives me a kiss on the forehead whenever she tucks me in.”

“What about boys?” Victor whispered, the sound of his voice as light as his foggy breath. He was moving closer, leaning in. He felt Victors mitten weigh down over Yuuri’s own. He was warm, just like Yuuri thought. He was really warm. “What about when boys think other boys are special. Can they kiss them?”

“I hope so,” Yuuri choked out without thinking.

Victor smiled, forehead brushing against Yuuri’s own as he moved closer yet. A second, another second, and Yuuri saw Victor’s eyes close, felt chapped lips puckered on top of his. Victor pulled back, pink covering his cheeks.

“Me too.”