#I don't think I want to tag the second prompt in case that would imply this post is one?

[untitled-tmnt-blog]

🍂🐢🍁 Risetober 2023 🍁🐢🍂

-- Day 7/11: Mummy + Jumpscare --

Day seven (and eleven) of @sariphantom's Risetober prompts! Little Leo thinks he's being so sneaky. Donnie will never see him coming!

Risetober 2023 Masterpost

[dyaz-stories]

you took the words right out of my mouth || Kim Yeong-Hu x Reader

word count: 1k

warnings & tags: mostly sweet and fluffy, implied sex but nothing explicit, just harmless flirtation

A/N: For @neohumanmonster's Born in Blood prompt! I don't know if I'll post the other prompts right away because I don't want to burn myself out, so I hope you'll enjoy that one in the meantime!

“You do realize that there are two doctors in here, right?” you ask as you enter the room, not bothering to greet the man sitting on the examination table.

Sergeant Kim Young Hu’s eyes follow you as you walk to the sink to wash your hands. Around his bicep, a makeshift bandage seeped with red. By the looks of it, it isn’t the worst state you’ve seen him in.

“I’m not letting that lunatic touch me,” he answers, his voice calm, as it usually is, and you roll your eyes.

You’d be lying if you said you were a fan of Dr. Lim. You already had your issues with the man when you both worked for the government, before this all started. Once the Outbreak had begun, it had taken you forty-eight hours as his assistant before you had requested to start working out in the field. You’re well-aware of his shortcomings.

Unfortunately, and it stings to admit it, he’s one of the most competent doctors you’ve ever met. He’d be more than able to take care of the Sergeant.

“You do realize I have other things to do, right?”

“And I am deeply sorry to have taken you away from your fifth grade biology lessons.”

…Okay, he has a point. Finally done with your thorough handwashing — it’s not nearly as sanitizing as you’d like it to be, but it’s not like there’s a lot more you can do —, you come to stand in front of him.

“Does it hurt a lot?” you ask as you start undoing the bandage. At least working with the military means that the men all know what they’re doing in terms of first-aid.

“Could be worse. I think I just need stitches.”

You’d trust him, if it wasn’t for the fact that you’ve heard him say that about injuries that could have been fatal, had you not been there. In this case, though, you’re relieved to see it does look mostly fine. Whatever attacked him slashed through him, deep enough to be concerning but without actually damaging the muscle or hitting an important artery.

“What happened here?”

“One of the guys tried to take something from a monster,” the Sergeant Kim replies flatly. “I intervened.”

“Oh, it’s good it didn’t turn out worse, then?”

“Not really,” he says with a shrug. “The monster wasn’t violent until disturbed. This could have easily been avoided.”

“Sounds like your boys need a stern talking-to.”

While talking, you go fetch what you need. At least you’ve got everything required for something like stitching someone up, which you can’t say about most other ailments.

“I’ll handle that,” the Sergeant answers from behind you, and you smile. He exudes this quiet strength that you cannot help but be impressed by. His men would follow him to the end of the world and back, if he asked, and you can see why.

“Alright, well, you know the drill,” you tell him, coming back in front of him. “Think you’ll be okay?”

It’s silly to ask, with how often you’ve had to patch him or his men up. You’re well aware of his resistance to pain. Nonetheless, your training requires you ask, even if it’s no surprise when he nods in answer.

“Just go for it.”

You make quick and easy work of the wound. You focus on being fast and efficient rather than on lessening the pain, which you know is for the best with him. It’s not long before you’re setting your tools back down, done with your work. There are a few seconds during which the Sergeant takes the time to relax his jaw, to breathe in a couple of times, and then he nods at you.

“All done?” he asks.

“You’ll need to come back here so I can check on it,” you say. “And try not to put any strain yourself with that arm for a couple days, alright?”

He nods, but you don’t put much faith in that. As a soldier, you’d think he’d be good at following orders and, to be fair, you’ve heard he did an outstanding job most of the time. Unfortunately, your recommendations seemed to fall into deaf ears more often than not.

“Is that all?”

“Sure,” you say, even if his nonchalance exhausts you. “Hope I don’t see you here again for a good while.”

This, at least, brings a smile to his lips, and you try your best to suppress your shiver. He gets up from the table, and stands up, just inches from you. He’s so close, his torso almost brushes against your chest.

“Is that so, Doc?”

Damn that man.

“You know, if you keep this up, I’ll end up thinking you’re landing yourself in here on purpose,” you say.

The smile turns more amused.

“I would never endanger myself on purpose,” he tells you with disarming honesty. “But I’d be lying if I said I minded this kind of flesh wounds all that much these days.”

And before you can tell him just what you think of that, of course, he leans in to capture your lips. It’s not the first time. It doesn’t look like it will be the last time. And you’re in one of the very few rooms in the stadium that can actually lock.

Fuck it, you decide, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. It doesn’t matter why the two of you play that game together, the people you shared a past with and that are long gone, the fact that this relationship was built on blood. What matters is that in his arms, for however long you get to have him, you forget that the world is doomed.

If him coming back for more over and over again is any indication, so does he.

hope you liked this, it's a little sillier than what i've written for the fandom so far, so that was fun to play with. i don't know if i'll write for other soldiers because most of them... didn't leave me much of an impression as far as their personality goes, but i tried something for sergeant kim ^-^ please consider leaving a comment or reblogging if you're enjoying my writing, interactions are what keep me motivated to write for a fandom!

more writing for sweet home

[pluralprompts]

kins and headmates are not the same thing. "kin" (otherkin/therian/fictionkin) has nothing to do with systems/plurality and i would seriously suggest you avoid putting the kin tag on posts that are supposed to be about plurality/systems. we already get told that we're faking it for attention/that its a choice/that its a made up disorder, we really dont need people conflating kin (which is valid but not related to systems at all) with systems. kin and system terms are not interchangeable. if a post is about both then fair game but please do not act like we are the same thing

Are you referring to the post that can be about headmates who are bunnies because they're bunny/rabbit extranths and/or because they're bunnykin/rabbitkin? Or in other words, are you referring to a prompt that can be about 'kin headmates? That's the post you want me to "avoid putting the kin tag on"? ... You do know systems and headmate can be 'kin, right? I find it strange (and kind of insulting) that you think a post about systems that can be interpreted as being about a rabbitkin headmate is conflating systems and 'kin. Again, systems can be otherkin and headmates can be otherkin, and thus I use 'kin tags on prompts that reference, involve, or focus on that, since those tags are relevant for those prompts. This prompt can be used as inspiration to write about a rabbitkin headmate, so the 'kin tag is applicable.

In other words, the post is about both systems and 'kin. It's not conflating terms or communities to take an experience that's shared by both extranths and 'kin and go "here's this thing that you can write about in either context" (not to mention headmates can be both extranths and 'kin at the same time, too). My tags reflect just some of millions of different directions in which a prompt can be taken. In this case, one of the more prominent directions a prompt could be taken is interpreting the headmate in question as rabbitkin, so I tagged the post with "kin" to reflect that. The fact that another likely interpretation of the prompt is to see the headmate in question as a rabbit extranth does not mean I, or anyone else, are implying extranths and 'kin are the same thing, or conflating plurality and 'kinity. It just means the prompt can be interpreted in many different ways.

Honestly, I find it insulting that you think I, a system with various headmates that are otherkin, and whom actively participates in both communities, would be conflating the two just to add extra, unnecessary tags to a post, especially since you can look very quickly and easily at the rest of my blog and find I only use 'kin when it could possibly be applicable to a prompt. This ask also kind of implies you don't think systems or individual headmates can be 'kin, which could be a misunderstanding on either end, but it hurts, to be implicitly denied my own 'kinity due to my plurality, when these are both very important parts of my identity and life. It feels like you saw the 'kin tag and immediately rushed to my inbox to get mad at me without thinking for two seconds. Next time, perhaps take a breath and ask yourself if you're assuming the worst of someone.

Sometimes, a prompt is just about systems, plurals, or specific headmates who happen to be 'kin. Your concerns are unfounded.

Edit: forgot to add that for some folks, their kintypes and headmates are the same thing, and for them, those terms are interchangeable. Some interpret their 'kinity through a plural perspective, or don't draw a hard line between a median headmate and a kintype, for instance. For these people, 'kin has everything to do with systems/plurality, and trying to insist the two are never interconnected is only going to hurt them. I refuse to cast out my fellow 'kin and systems over a single tag on a single prompt, of all things.

[crisalidaseason]

more of Levi being a dad? like his daughter likes someone and Levi becomes protective and gives the don't hurt my daughter talk

>>It's okay if you don't want though<<

I'm so so so so sorry I took so long!

Dad!Levi x Daughter!Reader

Prompt: Levi with a daughter that has a crush on someone.

Tags and content warning: Levi being a paranoid dad, Hange being a menace. Reader's crush is not specified. Reader uses she/her pronouns and it's implied to be a teenager (nothing else is specified)

People think Levi doesn't pay attention or notice anything that is not related to the missions, but they are so wrong. Levi is a wonderful observer, noticing changes of behavior in everyone. He just doesn't give enough of a fuck.

That means he finds really odd when you're suddenly coming to the headquarters a bit too often with excuses like "I'm paying my dad a little visit" or "bringing hange some pastries they love". It's not like he doesn't appreciate you visiting, but you were never a fan of the military headquarters.

Hange was the first to put the spark of paranoia on his mind. "Hmmm, she's always coming during the cadets training hours" or "is she wearing make-up? Is that a new dress?". He tried not to think about but it was impossible, so one day he decided to join one of the training sessions.

He spotted you watching the training on the second floor and like the hawk eye he is, Levi followed your gaze and saw a specific soldier. A scrawny one who was also a disaster. Now Levi had nothing against you courting people but he knew soldiers were the worst, he would have to give that soldier the talk.

The poor soldier didn't even know who grabbed him by the neckline of his shirt. All he could see was the intimidating 1,60m man pinning him to the wall.

"you've caught my baby girl's attention, how dare you?"

"what do you mean you don't know who I'm talking about?"

When Levi finally let's the poor soldier go, they just run away traumatized. And when you find out about it you wanna die so bad from embarrassment. You have to explain the old man that you were crushing from afar and Levi just traumatized a kid for nothing.

Safe to say that he now asks you, awkwardly, if your romantic interests are aware of your feelings before threatening them. To be honest he intimidates them anyway and the poor soldier thinks it's just gratuitous hate from Captain Levi.

If you end up getting a date with your crush, Levi will be worried the entire time you're getting ready. He's asking you a million times if it's safe, giving you another pocket knife 'just in case', also giving you a strange concoction Hange made (something with lots of pepper).

When your date comes to pick you up he makes sure to take them aside and very calmly say "if you hurt her, I will rip your limbs off one by one and feed you your own toes".

If your crush ends up not being nice, expect Levi to just make them disappear. Don't ask me details, I don't know what happens.

If you have a nice partner, then he will test them infinitely. Test their loyalty, their strength, the way they make tea (Levi finds everyone's abilities with brewing tea atrocious).

He genuinely thinks nobody is good enough for you, but deep down Levi is scared that he's gonna die and nobody will take care of you. He wants you to have a real partner just in case death finally takes him.

Isn't he such a cute dad? A little pinscher.

[o-wyrmlight]

do you have any madeleine and espresso head canons from your au? i’d love to hear them!

Ahh boy oh boy uhhm--headcanons, headcanons--it's really hard to come up with headcanons off the bat without any prompts or questions, but let's see...

Some trigger warnings, noted after I wrote this all out: Trauma, implied exposure to parental domestic violence, trauma caused by parents, self-neglect, and I think that's it. Please let me know if I'm overestimating the tags or if I'm missing something, because I might be.

Madeleine and Espresso met when they were kids. I don't have a concrete age for either of them during that time, but it was before puberty.

Madeleine went by she/her pronouns because he's afab! He didn't fully realize he was trans until sometime when they were teenagers. Madeleine kept his name because a) it's a nice name b) his mom named him that and c) he's comfortable accepting the girl he used to be as a part of his life that existed.

Espresso knew his friend was trans before Madeleine did. Neither of them knew what the word was for the longest time, though.

In terms of 'keeping in contact' with people, Espresso's the kind of person who finds it difficult to do so, and Madeleine's the kind of person who's more proactive about it.

Madeleine is. The person that Espresso hangs out the most with, second only to himself. Madeleine is the only one who's willing to tolerate Espresso's snarky behavior, mostly because he knows it's a factor of how Espresso grew up.

Suddenly I'm debating on if Espresso might be OCD. I'll need to do research about it if so. I do know that Espresso is a perfectionist and a workaholic, and that's largely because his parents always had very high expectations for him.

You may think that Espresso is Madeleine's impulse control. You would be wrong.

The two of them are absolute nerds. Madeleine is obsessed with the ocean and Espresso loves talking about his research. They info dump to each other a lot. Madeleine jokes about them using Espresso's pressurized machines to make aquariums for deep sea fish. It's great.

Espresso is... very bad at taking care of himself. Not only when it comes to sleep, but also (sometimes) lab safety, food, hygiene, and Everything Else. If Madeleine were gone, he'd be so badly off.

...Oh. That's right. Madeleine did leave. ...Twice. ...Go figure.

Seriously though, Madeleine acts as a sort of anchor to Espresso. Madeleine is the unstoppable force to his immovable object. He's the javelin that never breaks to Espresso's uncrackable shield. He's the car that--yeah no you get it. Espresso's dependent.

...Oh. My god. Espresso has a dependent personality disorder. It makes so much sense like with so much pressure from your parents who essentially have your life mapped out for you, you're always doing what someone else tells you to do, how the fuck can you learn to have agency when--I'm going to stop now but this is a very interesting revelation.

I don't know if they live together. They probably do, but it'd be harder for Madeleine to be able to go about his business threatening the Creme Republic if that were the case. But, then again... wouldn't that make it more... interesting?

Espresso is aware of Madeleine's parental issues. What he's not aware of is exactly how badly it fucked Madeleine up.

Espresso is also not aware of how badly his own parents fucked him up.

Espresso got straight As in school, and Madeleine's grades ranged from C-A depending on how interested he was in the subject and how much he liked the teachers.

Funny thing! Madeleine comes from a line of paladins! They expected him to become a paladin and were very displeased when he became a fisherman instead. They sort of cut him off for a while until he disappeared and came back home after he decided to become a paladin.

Espresso lowkey thought it was so cool that Madeleine decided to become a fisherman instead of follow what his family wanted him to do. Because it is cool. Hell yeah, Madeleine. You go, you funky little lad, you.

They just get along so well. When people think they're arguing they're really having a banter. Or they're doing it on purpose to make people think they're arguing. If Espresso weren't ace, he and Madeleine would make a great couple.

Espresso's cis but he's chill.

This has... pretty much become Espresso headcanons. But you know what? Good for him. I don't talk about Espresso enough. And I need to talk about him more. Snarky little shit. I love him.

If there's anything more specific you'd like to know, feel free to ask me! Even if I don't have an answer immediately, it'll help me get a better handle on their characters regardless!

[lesetoilesfous]

"Love potion/spell" for evil!hawke x anders from bad things bingo! If you don't mind

OOOh this was delicious, thank you so much for the request!!!!

(If you’d like me to write you a dragon age fic, send me a prompt from here!)

@dadrunkwriting

@badthingshappenbingo

Fandom: Dragon Age 2

Pairing: Fenders, dark Handers

Characters: Anders, Fenris, Garrett Hawke, Merrill, Varric Tethras

Tags: non consensual love spell, implied abusive situations, evil Hawke, pre Fenders

Rating: Mature

Fenris is fairly certain he’s losing his mind.

It’s not that he particularly wants to know anything about the mage’s love life, or, increasingly, of Hawke’s. Every day he finds himself regretting further not taking Isabela up on her offer on a position on her crew, shortly before she’d escaped the Qunari attack and Garrett Hawke’s wrath. But, unfortunately for Fenris, a keen and observant nature was absolutely essential in a bodyguard, and Fenris was the perfect bodyguard. So he was acutely aware of the lantern Garrett had been keeping lit for their loudest apostate companion for almost ten years, and the cruelty with which the man had kept himself entertained with Merrill in the interim. Fenris also knew, for a fact, that Anders had rejected Garrett’s attentions with increasing volume and acidity no less than 37 times.

Which made this….difficult to explain.

Anders is sitting in Hawke’s lap. He’s not wearing his coat: Fenris realises he has almost never seen the mage without it, unless he’s sleeping or badly wounded, and sometimes not even then. Without the padding of the thing, Anders’ body is too thin in a painfully familiar way that Fenris refuses to examine. His loose, stained shirt hangs off broad shoulders built for both more fat and more muscle than the mage’s body had been able to maintain in the face of starvation. His pants are belted loosely around his waist with an old twist of cloth, and he’s not wearing socks. He also has both his scarred, freckled arms hooked loosely over Garrett’s shoulders, and keeps dipping closer to him to press kisses to his cheeks, neck and lips.

In the corner of the tavern, an annoyed looking Varric is plying Merrill with ever harder liquor. The elf herself looks like she is on the edge of either tears or murder, and whilst Fenris thinks he might prefer the latter he’s more than a little concerned that she might start a fight she cannot finish. And he does not know which side he will take, if it comes to that.

Garrett has both thick, hairy arms around Anders’ back, his tanned skin rippling with muscle as he leans in to bite down hard on Anders’ neck. Anders sighs a happy, loud moan, tipping his chin back as Garrett presses a line of kisses along his bruising neck, and Fenris finishes the wine in his bottle.

It’s possible that Anders is just drunk. It’s possible that his spirit - demon - has given up its fixation on abstinence, and this combined with what Fenris has also perceived as a drought of amorous attentions to rival his own - Anders has decided to at last give in to the one man whirlwind of charisma that constitutes Garrett Hawke. It’s entirely possible that this is the case.

But when Fenris gets up to stand, and the wine in his body sends him staggering to catch himself on the closest wall, Anders looks up at him with an expression of clarity that is violently jarring only because it’s the first time Fenris has seen it this evening. “Fenris? Are you alright?”

Fenris opens his mouth to reply. But it’s at that moment that Garrett grabs a fistful of Anders’ hair and pulls it, hard, in a way that brings visible tears to Anders’ brown eyes even in the candlelight. This is enough to have Fenris starting forward, his discomfort having long passed second hand embarrassment and begun to evolve into genuine outrage. Which means Fenris is close enough to hear Garrett’s voice when he growls against Anders’ lips, “Pay attention to me, amatus.”

Fenris hardly needs the strangeness of the Tevene on Garrett’s lips in his rough, Fereldan accent. Anders’ expression visibly softens and changes, as if he were about to fall asleep. He blinks slowly at Garrett, pupils dilating so wide his eyes are almost black, and giggles in a way Fenris hasn’t heard him do since Isabela left, ducking his head to nuzzle against Garrett’s neck.

“I’m always paying attention to you, love.”

Fenris feels the drunkenness falling from his limbs like rain, finding lucidity with the familiarity of old habit. It’s not easy to resist the urge to look back as he walks away from the couple at their table to the bar where Varric and Merrill are. But he manages it, and when he reaches the old, scarred, graffitied wood of The Hanged Man’s bar, he supposes something of what he’s feeling must be showing on his face, because Varric immediately stops talking.

“What is it, broody?”

“Blood magic.” Fenris realises, quite abruptly, that he is very, very angry. The realisation and the alcohol make him dizzy, and he takes a moment to collect himself, waiting for the white hot rage rising at the back of his mind to settle into something a little less blinding. Around them, the patrons of The Hanged Man cheer and sing and laugh. But Hawke and Anders’ voices keep cutting through the noise, like sirens in a gale, and Fenris cannot seem to tune them out.

“What would you let me do to you?” Garrett’s voice, smug, boasting.

“Anything,” Anders, sighing, careless in a way he’s never been in this city, until now.

Merrill leans forward, lips pinched tight at the corners as she moves her gaze away from the men in the corner. “What do you mean, blood magic?”

Fenris glances down at his hand, and is half surprised to see the lyrium sewn into his skin glowing, softly, like moonlight in the half-dark of the tavern. He looks back up at Merrill, then Varric. “It’s an old Tevene spell. Illegal, mostly. Certainly outside of Tevinter. A love spell.” Fenris spits the last three words, mouth twisting. “Though love isn't the word I'd use for it.”

For the first time in almost ten years of knowing him, Varric looks visibly angry. Fenris wonders if this is what he’d looked like, when he found out that Bartrand had betrayed him. Probably not. Garrett was there. He would have had to keep up appearances.

Next to Merrill’s hand on the bar, roots and vines abruptly shoot up from the long dead wood. Corff makes a soft sound of surprise, staring at Merrill as if she’d grown a second head. She doesn’t spare him a glance, getting to her feet and swinging her staff over her back.

“Let’s go. I need to collect some ingredients.”

Fenris nods, following her, but Varric stops between the tables, glancing back at Hawke and Anders, now shamelessly making out in the corner of the room. Varric looks at Fenris, and in the lines and new wrinkles of his face, Fenris thinks he sees more grief than anger. “Won’t he wonder where we’ve gone?”

Fenris says nothing. Instead, he watches Varric reach the same conclusion he had, and averts his eyes when Varric’s shoulders fall and he lifts one hand to his forehead. Norah swerves around him, two trays of drinks in either hand. By the time she’s gone past, Varric’s collected himself. Fenris reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it once, firmly.

“Come on. We aren’t wanted here.”

Varric’s mouth tightens, but he follows them outside, into the cold Kirkwall night.

[solesurvivorpaigeargot]

HOLY HELLO, friends and followers! It's once again that time, time for...

SKETCHY SATURDAY!

This week, we're bringing back one of my favorite types of prompt-- the Quote prompt!

This one is pretty simple, but I still gotta lay down the rules. Follow me past the read-more if you're wanting to participate this week!

This week is all about the dialog-- requesters may select a character and a quote to send in, after which I'll do the rest. If you're an old hand at this event, this is exactly the same as previous quotation prompts, just with an updated quote list.... buuuuut you can still validate my time spent writing the guidelines every week by reading them anyway XD

For the rest of ye, ONWARDS!

To send a VALID request for this week's Sketchy Saturday, send an ASK to my ASKBOX containing the following:

The CHARACTER you'd like sketched ---- Canon? Yep! OC? Hell yes! Everybody's welcome so long as they're from the Fallout Universe! ---- One character per ask ---- Sending an OC? Send your request ask FIRST, and THEN send reference info to my Tumblr IM ---- Don't have a reference image? Text description is fine! Going from text lets me flex my character design muscles!

The NUMBER of your selected quote ---- Numbers help me find things faster, but you can transcribe the quote, too, if you wanna. ---- Got more than one favorite? List up to three, in order of preference. If someone else has used your first choice, I'll move on to your second [or third]. ---- Still can't choose? Send me 'Dealer's Choice!' and I'll pick one... or maybe make up something new on the spot ;3

As always, I'd like to remind everyone that the artist is a singular human, managing this event to try and give people some joy during a time when there seems to be a dwindling supply. Please remember to be polite, say please and thanks, reblog the art after it's finished, make 'oooo' noises in the tags, all that good shit.

Kay? M'kay.

And with that all outta the way... THE QUOTES!

CW for a lot of colorful language, implied violence, and general vulgarity XD

“Excellence knows no age.”

"Whoa, whoa, calm down-- my metaphorical dick can only get so hard."

"Like... a broken clock is right twice a day, but I feel like I'm insulting the clock with that comparison."

"You know, people in this town have a habit of getting in over their heads... like at the bottom of the ocean."

"What the fuck is that look for?"

"Shhhhh.... the adults are talking."

"I did NOT just spend six days in a hole to NOT get drunk at the first opportunity."

"And whether you believe that... or you're correct, it makes a nice hot take."

“Goddamnit, we fought a revolution so we wouldn’t have to pay any attention to the FUCKING British!

“We plan ahead; that way, we don’t do anything right now."

"If you don't stop smirking at me like that, I'm gonna have to kiss you."

"Shenanigans! I'm calling Shenanigans!!"

"Fuck you guys, I'm going home."

"That would imply some kind of agency-- I assure you, I did not CHOOSE this in any capacity."

"On a scale of one to ten, I think I'm hanging out somewhere in the concept of infinity."

"Got the short end of the stick, so I started beating people with it."

"That was so low on the list of things I expected to happen, it was in another state."

"BALLS TO THE WALL, BOYS!"

“You put a whole new shine on the word overkill.”

"Above my paygrade."

"I'm surrounded by assholes..."

"Besides-- in my professional opinion, the change is an improvement."

"A lifetime of preparation... and I end up a REFUGEE?"

".... are you not wearing pants right now?"

“I want a man with a tattoo on his dick! Have I got the right man?”

“I’m short for my height.”

"This isn't a joke, you shit-sucking asshole!"

"Count to... ten."

"Well that's just recockulous."

“So where the hell is the goddamn golden oldie coming from?”

"I always take my own advice under advisement-- you, on the other hand, should pay a little more goddamn attention."

"Listen, babe-- we've been attacked, chased, shot at, poisoned, and blown up! HOW could it get any WORSE?!"

“It will get colder and colder until we all have to go to hell just to warm up.”

“Broke into the wrong goddamn rec-room, didn’t you, you bastard?!”

“When you need it, and don’t have it, you sing a different tune.”

“I only speak two languages; English and Bad English!”

"[sigh]... 'Yer face' is NOT a numerical value."

“Nothing is impossible, only mathematically improbable.”

“I mean, [insert your faction of choice] offers to give you anything you want and you ask for just two cases of dynamite?”

“People keep giving me rings, but I really think a small death ray would be more practical.”

“Or, or, and this is the really important part, we might not die.”

"Tch, amateurs."

"Violence isn't the answer, it's the question-- and the answer is yes."

As always, this will be going online just as I'm crashing for the night, but the askbox is open and ready to collect requests right now! So get yours in, and I'll see ya in the morning when I start arting things up! :D

-Loor

[kickingitwithkirk]

Happy Coincidence Chance Discovery

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Piper, Jared Padalecki x Piper,

Characters: Dean Winchester /Jensen Ackles, mentions of Chad Michael Murray 

Word Count:4367

Warnings: cursing, kissing, nudity, implied sex/genital fondling/teasing 

 *Jared and Jensen are single.

A/N: for @idreamofplaid​  Thanks for the Memories Challenge #plaid and the memories  HAPPY BIRTHDAY JARED🎉

Prompt: Season 11, episode 4, Baby

A/N: Baby is my favorite episode but every time I’ve watched it I kept wondering; Sam’s hook up with Piper the waitress? So this is my fill in that blank with a Jared twist.

Divider: created by @writeyourmindaway​

*No beta all mistakes are mine

Dean drives into the parking lot of a roadhouse just after dusk and Sam looks at the marquee shaking his head in disbelief.

“Are you serious? Dean, it's late, I’m exhausted and..and.. and starving.  And this place. I mean, even Swayze wouldn't come to this roadhouse.” Sam groused.

“First of all, never use Swayze’s name in vain, okay. Ever.” Dean chastises his brother for such a sacrilege, “Second, you don't remember this place? You don't remember Heather, the hunter we worked the wendigo case a couple years ago?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam partially smiles, remembering that night of fun.

 “Yeah, exactly” Dean taking the same trip down memory lane.

“What, she’s here tonight?” Sam asks, perking up a bit.

 “I texted her, she's working a rugaru case in Texas.” Dean says.

“Actually, she never texted me back. That's not the point, the point is that we have a ton of driving left to do just to go to a town where it's not probably a case.” Dean points ahead, “But in there, good times.”

 “Uh...” Sam hedges looking at the building.

 “But time heals all wounds, especially good times. What do ya say?” Dean looks at his brother hopeful.

 “I say... knock yourself out.” Sam answers with his usual reply and Dean looks away, “I'm gonna find a diner and dig into the lore like Cas did, see if anythings ever happened where we’re headed.”

“Ah man, you really got to learn to have fun.” Dean’s reply was full of disappointment in his little brother.

“Seriously. It’s pathetic.” 

They both climb out of the Impala. Sam grabs his bag from the backseat and starts walking back towards town as Dean heads into the roadhouse. 

***

Sam had walked over a mile looking for somewhere to eat. Being Saturday night he thought there’d be more open but that’s small town living, the streets roll up at noon on the weekends. 

He was about to give up and hike back to that mom & pop gas station he passed for a microwave burrito, preferably bean to get back at Dean, when he happened upon a small, local place, Mak’s Diner. 

Hitching his bag up, he pushed open the door expecting the usual greasy spoon Dean's unerring sense navigates towards and stops just inside the front door.

It was an older establishment, obviously one of those passed down from generation to generation places but to his surprise it was well maintained, despite the C on the marquee being burnt out.

“Evening, have a seat anywhere and I’ll be right with you.” A woman’s voice called out from the kitchen. Sam walked past the counter smiling at only other occupants, an elderly couple having coffee and dessert, heading towards the back where family seating was located. 

As he passed the next to last booth he noticed a closed laptop, several open books with notes scrawled around their margins, highlighted paragraphs and a few notebooks scattered on its tabletop.

He dropped the bag on the seat and shed his jacket before sliding into the booth, fishing out his laptop and the legal pad that he had started making more notes on earlier.

“Hey there, what can I get you?” 

Picking up the menu laying by his elbow Sam glances through it, “Coffee and the Cobb salad, thanks.” He orders closing the menu and looking up to hand it to the waitress. She is differently not what he would have expected to find in a backwater burg like this one. 

Her makeup is understated, nails painted a neutral color and her copper hued hair is pulled back in an elegant chiffon, not a high ponytail or hastily bobby pinned up-do, held in place with a real silver clip, the type that’s handed down as an heirloom.

“Just the Cobb salad?” She asked looking under the tabletop, taking in Sam’s long legs somewhat stretched out under it, boots bumping against the other side of the circular booth. Her blue/grey eyes slowly travel up appraising his body till they meet his.

“Big boys like you need more than a few leafy greens for stamina.” 

Sam felt himself blushing like he was seventeen again. Waitresses blatantly flirt with Dean and vice versa all the time so he’s taken aback by this woman's more than blatant appraisal of his physique.

“I, um, yeah, ju..just the salad.” Sam stammers out.

“Okay, be back with that coffee.” Her smiles genuinely, not that faked for the customers sake one he’s used to.

Sam appraises her retreating figure like she did him. She’s not wearing the nurses white or black rubber soled shoes that’s usual waitress gear he’s seen but a brand of tennis shoes he knows are out of the typical income of career restaurant staff. 

The fifties style, yellow uniforms color is completely unflattering, not fitting her right, way too tight around her bust and hips and far shorter than it should be, her mile long legs on display.

Sam shifts in his seat and tries to discreetly palm down his spontaneous erection but not so little Sam is putting up a fight, making it known it's been way too long since he’s gotten wet and he wants to enjoy her junoesque attributes. 

***

While he is waiting for a page to load Sam hears the elderly couple preparing to leave. He watches as the husband helps his wife into her jacket and gently takes her hand, resting it in the crook of his arm as they slowly make their way to the exit, feeling the pang of loneliness that’s his constant companion.

“Mr. Reynolds’s, hang on a sec,” the waitress calls from the kitchen emerging with a white cake box tied shut, “Auntie wanted me to make sure you got this before leaving. She’s sorry she missed your anniversary party.”

“You tell her we missed her, needs to hurry up and get well.” Mrs. Reynolds remarked as her husband took the box with his free hand. She glanced back towards Sam, “Sweetie, you gonna be okay here with the likes of him?” 

Sam kept his expression neutral, waiting to see how this plays out. He knew people found him intimidating because of his size and being a stranger in a small town, he definitely stands out but not many were that blatant about it.

“He ordered a Cobb salad, I think I can handle him,” she jested winking at him.

The couple bid her goodnight and she went back into the kitchen, Sam realizing they were now all alone. Sighing, he starts reading the info again trying to figure out what exactly their hunting is. Or not.

He was so focused on his research like usual he didn’t acknowledge the waitress standing there with his order.

“Kmm hmm,” Sam’s head snapped up, “must be something really good if you don’t notice the likes of me.” She chided him setting down a coffee decanter and cup.

“Sorry, guess I was kinda caught up.” Sam moves the laptop and notepad over as she sets down his salad and two types of dressing. “Figured you might not be a ranch type of guy so I grabbed the vinaigrette too.” 

“Thanks, I prefer vinaigrette, don’t usually get offered it.” 

“I’m pretty good at reading people which is why I also brought you this,” she set down another plate with a lettuce wrapped, curiously colored and, by the smell, not meat burger with all the fixings, a generous helping of baked sweet potato fries and a green colored milkshake.

“I didn’t order this.”

“I know but it cooks night off and I’m trying some new recipes. Seeing as you're the only other one here, you've been conscripted as my guinea pig.” She slid into the other side of his booth where an identical plate rested, “I wasn’t kidding about you needing more than just a salad. Besides, I hate eating alone, you wouldn’t believe how often it happens. Fuck, where’s my manners, I’m Piper.” She stuck her hand out across the table.

He takes her preferred hand amazed how it fits perfectly in his, “Sam.” 

“So Sam, figure out what you're hunting yet?” She asked nonchalantly as she picked up her burger, “Cause, not being judgey, but that’s some really random shit you got there.” She takes a bite, watches as his expression bounces between startled and incredulous.

“How…”

“Saw your Tarsus 99 when you took off your jacket. I had one as a kid, then daddy got killed on a hunt and I got sent here to live with Auntie, she doesn’t cotton to hunting.” 

Piper picked up a fry pointing it at him, “But what I really wanna know, where the hell did you get that demon blade, ‘cause I’ve never seen one like it before.” 

Sam hesitates, “That’s a long story.” 

“Don’t close till one and I’ve got nowhere to be after.”

Sam decides to deflect instead of answering. “So what is it you do, because you're definitely not a waitress.” 

“Officially, I’m an antique appraiser. Unofficially, I’m helping a wayward hunter who graced my door with something he can’t figure out.”

***

Sam and Piper, after closing the diner, stayed another three hours hashing out the research for his case were now taking their time walking back towards the roadhouse. 

“I’ve been wanting to ask, what’s with that name tag?” Sam noticed early it read Maggie.

“Came with this god awful uniform. Auntie insists that we all adhere to how her daddy ran the place. So when I came back to temporarily help out after her surgery, Maggie decided she was not gonna take orders from someone younger, quit and I got stuck with this. I told Auntie it wouldn’t fit, even with letting out the hem. Maggie was like five-four and I’m over five-ten! 

Ugh! I keep popping these stupid top buttons and can’t freaking bend over without showing everyone my C U Next Tuesday.” 

Sam smiled that nervous smile he got when unsure how to respond to an answer he wasn’t expecting.

“I normally wear this to cover it,” moving her pocketed hands in the light weight, knee length sweater she had put on when they left the diner, “but I have to confess,” Piper turned around, walking backwards, “I took it off when I saw you come in, thought what the hell, been long time since a really cute guy has walk through my door so...” She bit her lip, turning back around as they continued down the lane in companionable silence.

Sam mused over her confession admitting to himself he was interested in her too. He enjoyed sharing different theories and bouncing ideas of what they might be hunting back and forth with her, surprising him with her unique take on things.

Piper might not have been the type he consciously steered towards since Jess but she was comfortable to be around, didn’t feel his usual awkwardness he normally had around most women. 

They arrived at the roadhouse a few minutes later and Sam led her towards the Impala.

“Damn, you brother is a fucking artist, how many times has he rebuilt her?” Piper asked walking around the car, running her hand over the Impalas pristine exterior. 

“To many.” Sam replies, putting his bag on the front seat. “Can I have a look?” He turns to see Piper standing by the trunk. “Um, sure.” Strolling over he unlocks it and lifts the interior wheel well exposing the car's hidden armory.

“Is that a grenade launcher?”

“Yeah, Dean found it at the bunker.” Sam laughed remembering how excited Dean had been when he discovered it. 

Piper shook her head shutting the trunk and hopped up on it, “What’cha wanna do now, go in,” gesturing at the bar, “or hang out here for a while longer?”

“I think I’m good hanging o...”

Piper grabbed his jacket dragging him between her spread legs and kissed him.

It took Sam all of five seconds to process what was happening before his hands grabbed her hips and tugged her to the edge of the trunk, her short skirt riding even higher as she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer.

Sam jerked back as headlights flashing over them, a patrol car drove into the parking lot. He lifted Piper off the trunk and led her to the car's back door dragging  the green cooler out of their way.

Piper climbed in as he hauled it to the trunk and grabs the army blanket Dean keeps then gets in depositing it and his jacket over the front seat.

“Where were we before being rudely interrupted?” Piper asked, sliding onto Sam’s lap and leaning in to resume kissing him. 

Sam tangled his long fingers into her now loose hair pulling to halt her, “What about that patrolman?”

“Won’t be back till closing, around six A.M.”

“That means Dean won’t either,” he says closing the space between them, heatedly attacking her lips.

***

Piper ran her hand over his bare chest, “How long is your refractory period?”

Sam shifted to look down at her, “umm, around twenty minutes.”

“Hmmm, I’m gonna have to see what I can do to shorten that ‘cause we are so doing that more than once again.”

“And how are you gonna do that?” 

Piper stared at him slowly trailing her hand down his torso. Sam’s breath hitched as she lightly teased her fingers across his lower stomach, running through his treasure trail and over to his hip.

Shifting further down his body she continued running her fingers over the top of his left thigh feeling the hard muscles flexing under the skin. She placed both of her hands in between his legs shifting his left one off the seat and bending his right leg back placing his foot flat on the bench seat. 

Piper kneels in the space between Sam’s spread legs continuously moving her fingers in random patterns over the insides of both tights, touching him everywhere below his waist.

Sam closed his eyes groaning loudly, dropping his head back against the window as her fingers played over his balls feeling her other hand travel behind them teasing over his...

“You fell asleep in the fucking car!”

His eyes snapped open startled. Blinking rapidly he sees Dean leaning through the open car window looking at him. 

“Dean what...where’s Piper?”

“What’s a Piper?” He growled out, “Dude, we wrapped twenty minutes ago and I’ve been looking for you, got worried cause you weren’t answering your fucking phone Jay!”

He took a good look at Dean. His foggy brain finally realizing its mistake, taking in the headset hanging around his neck and the ball cap he likes wearing when directing. “Jen, sorry, guess I’m still in Sam headspace, got disoriented for a sec.”

Jensen laughed, “You find one grey hair and suddenly you're getting memory loss and needing naps? I’ll have to remember to have you in bed by nine, old man.” 

“Your fucking hilarious Jack.” Jared shoots back sliding across the seat getting out, “Man, I had the weirdest dream.”

“From the happy noises you were making that was far from weird. And speaking of happy,” Jensen's eyebrows went up as he pointedly looked down.

Jared glances down thinking he’s drooled all over himself only to see the prominent bulge in his jeans.

“Bob’s called a meeting in five but I think we’re gonna be late.” 

***

“I’m telling you it was so real! She was tall with coppery blond hair, tasted like chocolate peppermint and has this tattoo above her...” Jared paused grinning, keeping that specific location to himself, “I’ve never in my life had such a vivid dream like that.”

“Dude, you like petite brunettes.” 

“I know..so why would I make her a redhead?”

“Hell if I know, it’s your giant melon. Maybe all that sugar ribbon you eat is finally getting its revenge.” Jensen snarks as they enter the meeting room.

They were greeted by Bob’s gruff voice, “About time you two showed up. Alright, now that everyone is finally here, we need to get everyone up to speed. We’re having to make changes to the filming schedule.” He pauses looking at him notes, “Jared, don’t need you to come tomorrow for those new promo shots with, what was that new character again?” 

“Y/N Y/L/N, Sam’s new love interest.”

“Right, anyways, writers scraped that idea. As some of you heard, several of our exterior locations got flooded with that last storm and it’s taking time to find new locations so instead of doing blocking we're gonna do a quick read through of the new episode.”

Jared opened his copy of the new script to episode 4: Baby.

Reading the opening scene he experiences deja vu, quickly scanning the first two pages: bunkers garage: Dean washing the Impala, Sam having a possible case in Oregon. Next scene: interior shot Impala, Sam gets a protein shake out of cooler, Dean wants to know about the beer. Next scene: pulling in roadhouse parking lot, Dean trying to get Sam to join him, goes to eat instead, shot from Impala view watching Dean walking. Next scene: daybreak continuing from the view of the car...

“Fuck me.” Jared whispers, catching Jensen's attention. “What’s wrong?”

“This is how my dream started.”

Jensen pulls a yeah right face.

Jared shifted in his chair leaning closer to Jensen, looking directly into his green eyes, “I’ll prove it. Next scene: Dean gets in the car at daybreak and a naked waitress pops up in the backseat with a voice-over from Sam. Dean gets out peeping in the driver's side back window at her getting dressed. Cut to next scene: Sam climbs into front seat buttoning his flannel as he apologizes for having sex in Dean’s car. Dean, happy his brother finally got laid drives off quoting Bob Sager lyrics, playing Night Moves and Sam changing a lyric. 

Jared continued to lay out the entire episode from memory as Jensen flips through the script following.

“Bullshit Jared, someone snuck you a copy of this script, you're totally fucking with me.” 

“Jensen, not this time.”

***

Jared walked back to his trailer aggravated that Jensen won’t believe he didn’t get an advance peek of the script. He can’t shake this unsettling feeling that he was forgetting something important.

He was two steps into his trailer when his phone vibrated. Chad left a voicemail instead of texting, weird.

“Jay man, you gotta do me solid. A friend of mine got the part of Y/N on your show and I don’t know what the fucks happening up there but she flipped the fuck out on me! Need you to check on her, she’s outside one of the guest trailers. And have her call me back after she’s calmed the fuck down!”

Jared snorted, another woman pissed off at Chad, shocker. “The fuck you getting me into this time Murray.” Jared mutters to himself as he heads over to the guest stars trailers and hears a somewhat familiar voice outside of one.

“What do you mean there’s nothing you can do? I get here and now they're telling me they’ve dropped the story line.”

There was a pause in conversation as Jared walked closer to hear more clearly over the lot's noises and was shocked when he saw her sitting on one of the trailer's steps.

“But I signed a contract...what? I don’t remember seeing that in there. So they can just arbitrarily drop the part with no notification, that’s bullshit! I’ve never had a clause like that in one before. I gave up my job and apartment for this!” She gets up and paces around not noticing him. 

“They're giving me the bit part of the waitress in this episode, have a five am call for hair, getting a blonde rinse so I look more like a Dean type girl. I don’t know what the fuck is with these writers, it’s like they don’t get Sam, should’ve left him like Kripke originally created him.” She paused, “paying me what? At scale! That’ll just cover my petrol for the drive back to L.A. Wait, what about my six month lease? Could you check on it.” 

“Oh, giving me two nights at the Hilton. How magnanimous of them,” she sarcastically replies, “can I still get that part on Arrow...cast someone else.” She abruptly ends the call and sits back down on the step slumping over her knees.  

“So, how much of that fucked up conversation did you overhear?” She asked not looking at him.

“Um, almost all of it.” Jared confesses, “I wasn’t intentionally eavesdropping but I got a voicemail from Chad,” she looked up staring in disbelief at Jared, “he’s worried and wanted me to check on you.” 

“Fanfuckingtastic, can this day get any better? I’ve completely humiliated myself in front of Jared Fucking Padalecki!” 

Jared can just make out her blushing in the still dimming light. “I wouldn’t say completely, I mean, you could drop your pants and yell Pudding.”

She blinked at him before doubling over in laughter, “Alright, point taken. Still, it’s a crock of shit you don’t need to be bothered with.”

“Chad’s kinda made it my problem. Look, I don't know all the details but maybe I can help, I can call casting..”

“Oh hell no! Thanks but no thanks. Bunch of assbutts on social media were already speculating about how someone like me got the part in the first place. Last thing I need is more ammo for the haters, they’ll tweet something like I had a three way with you and Ackles because I was desperate to get the part back.” 

Jared cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair embarrassed to feel turned on by the imagery she conjured up in his mind. 

 “Mmm, that’d be my wet dream come true, but not the point, they’ll just come up with some random shit.”

Jared understood being all too familiar with the anti whatever’s having been the target himself.

“Okay, how about we go to my trailer,” she gave him a skeptical look, “where you can have some privacy to call Chad back. I’ll get de-Sam’d and we can talk some more or grab a bite if you're hungry.”

“You don’t know me from Adam, what if I’m some psychotic serial stocker nut job?” 

“If your friends with Chad, you absofuckingloutley are Ms. what's your name.” Jared sarcastically remarks given her a mischievous grin.

“Touché, and it's Piper,” Jared froze at her name, “and you’ve been friends with Murry longer than me so I know you’re straight up batshit crazy.” She smarts back standing up, “lead on, oh gallant knight.”

***

Jared walked out of the bath toweling his wet hair sees Piper lounging on his couch still on the phone with Chad.

As he crossed over to the kitchen's fridge he couldn’t help but notice her low rise jeans had ridden lower, revealing the top half of the tattoo just above her..

“Dude, should’a told me Padalecki has a tattoo kink,” Jared tripped over his feet before catching himself embarrassed at getting caught, “Yeah, that was your boy.” She winked at him, “No way in hell I’m ever showing it to you perv.” Jared loudly laughs at that. “Hey, when I get back I’m PA’ing for you till I get another gig. Don’t you dare argue, you got me into this so it’s that or I’m on your couch for a month,” Piper rolled her eyes at Chad’s response, “Yeah, yeah, talk to you later.”

“Is that how you met Chad, working as a PA?” Jared inquired coming over to sit down next to Piper handing her a beer. 

“Yeah, paid the bills while doing auditions, was starting to pick up a few bit parts around LA.” Piper starts nervously fiddling with the bottles label, “I heard about the casting call for a new Sam girl and Murry talked me into trying out for it, so I figured unless I kiss Crowley I don’t have a shot in hell and holy fuck, I got it.” 

She stopped talking but kept playing with the label. 

“Hey, whatever it is you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Jared says gently touching her shoulder in a reassuring manner.

She took a long pull of her beer before continuing. “My Auntie died and I inherited everything, including her debts. I negotiated a smaller settlement but it wiped out all my savings.” She paused draining the rest of her bottle. “I figured it was serendipity..”

Jared is half listening, feeling that uneasy sensation again at that last word.

“...gonna be Sam Winchester’s...”

“If we’re meant to meet again,”

“.. weren’t killing her off after three episodes but then they decided to drop that story line...”

“we will.”

“...I should be going. Thanks for the beer and letting bending your ear, I’m gonna get out of your hair.” Piper gets up heading for the door.

Jared finally remembers.

“I believe in serendipity..maybe you can too.”

He quickly jumped up moving between her and the door blurting out, “I know you said you didn’t want my help but you can’t go, not yet.”

“Okay, why not? ‘Cause any other time I’d be up for some wham bam thank you ma’am but so not in the mood right now.”

Taking a deep breath he goes for it, “So, get this, after we finished filming today, I fell asleep in the Impala and had this dream…” 

***

Jared sat on the couch nervously chewing on his thumb watching as Piper paces back and forth mulling over his story.

She abruptly stopped and sat down on the table in front of him. “So here's the deal, I will believe everything you've told me,” Jared opens his mouth to say something but Piper reached out laying her fingers on his lips, “if you can answer one question.” 

Jared took her hand remembering how it felt so right in his, “Okay.”

“Since you’ve seen it in your dream, what does my tattoo mean?”

“In Japanese, it means happy coincidence,” Jared confidently says sitting back as Piper climbs onto his lap, “but that's the first line, the second one is chance discovery.”

Jared pulls her in, brushing his lips against hers, running his tongue across them so she’ll part them , allowing him access. He can taste the beer they’ve been drinking but there’s that sumptuous flavor of her underneath he finds intoxicating..chocolate peppermint..thinking to himself..

Serendipity.