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seaside-writings · 3 years ago

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Hello, all you wonderful people!

I hope you're all ready for another super long prompt list because today is the 10th anniversary of the one and only "Gravity Falls" which to this day is still one of my favorite shows in existence.

The world-building and the characters are top-notch in my opinion, and it doesn't matter how many times I watch it, it never gets old and I doubt it ever will.

This amazing show that touched so people first aired in 2012 on June 15th, where it completely stole my heart thanks to a gnome puking up a rainbow.

Since then it's become one of my comfort shows and never fails to put a smile on my face, so celebrate "Gravity Falls" and all its weirdness, I've made this prompt list of all of my favorite bits of dialogue from every character.

I do hope you all enjoy this prompt list, and if it doesn't help you write, I at least hope it makes you smile and gives a little bit of nostalgia.

I hope you all stay blessed and safe throughout your day.

Lots of Love & Wishes: Celia 💙

Prompt List:

"You think the world makes sense? NOTHING MAKES SENSE! SO YOU MIGHT AS WELL MAKE NONSENSE!" - "You're scared. Of growing up. And who could blame you; I'm scared, too," - "Remember! Reality is an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold, bye!" - "Three, four, five, six," "Your wife is going to be beautiful!" "Yes!" "Come on, we've got a big break in the case!" "Let's go!" "But will she love me?! - "Romance is like gum: Once it's lost its flavor, you just cram another one in." - If you accidentally eat the prize that comes inside your cereal, does that make you a specially-marked box?" - "He's looking at it, he's looking at it!" "Uhh, do you like me? Yes, definitely, absolutely?" "I rigged it!" - "Do we have a ladder?" "Studies show owning a ladder is more dangerous than a loaded gun. That's why I own ten guns, just in case some fool tries to sneak in here with a ladder," - "You! You can't even imagine what you just cost me! Do you have any idea what I'm like when I'm mad?" - "Is this legal?" "When there's no cops around, anything's legal!" - "Dude, am I a side character?" - "Hey, hey! Let go of my sister!" "Oh, hey there. You know this is all really just a big misunderstanding. You see, your sister's not in any danger. She's just marrying all 1,000 of us and becoming our gnome queen for all eternity. Isn't that right, honey?" "You guys are butt-faces!" - "The future is in the past. Onwards, Aoshima!" - "For one trillion years I've been trapped in my own decaying dimension, waiting for a new universe to call my own," - "Ugghh... I'm never gonna eat or do anything ever again," "Hey! There's still some left!" "EVIL!" - "But you can call me your new lord and master for all of eternity!" - "Songs are like hugs that mouths give to ears!" - "Now, who wants to put on some blindfolds and get into my car?" "YAY!" "Wait, what?" - "I must warn you, these statues come at a terrible price," "Twenty dollars?! I'll just take 'em when you're not lookin'," "What?" "I said I was gonna rob ya," - "You can't force someone to love you. The best you can do is strive to be someone worthy of loving," - "Time is dead and meaning has no meaning. Existence is upside-down and I reign supreme. Welcome, one and all, to Weirdmageddon!" - "Maybe that old guy was crazy after all..." "He did use the word "scrabdoodle"..." - "I don't know. I was in the friend zone, and then he pulled me into the romance zone! It was like quicksand!" - "He thinks there's no heroes in this world, but if we work together and fight back, we can defeat him. You wanna be her hero? Stand up to that psycho, and let us save her!" - "How many of these did you eat!?" "Beleven.. teen..." "Oh man, oh man, oh man, oh man," - "You really think you can outwit me, boy? I'm Sherlock bleeding Holmes! Have you seen my magnifying glass?! It's enormous!" - "Face the music, kid. You got no muscles, you smell like baby wipes, and let's not forget last Tuesday's... incident. - "Child, why have you come here? "Multibear, I seek your head! Or, one of them, anyway. There's like...six? Six heads?" - "What was that about?" "Nothing. I don't want to talk about it. Talk about what? Why is this table wet?" - "Food!" "Thanks there, sugar pot. I-I mean honey wasp, kitten baby, b-baby cow," "Ha! Silly... so silly," - "Okay, I'm not actually laid back. I'm stressed, like, 24/7. Have you met my family?" - “Stay curious, stay weird, stay kind, and don't let anyone ever tell you you aren't smart or brave or worthy enough," - "I'm legalizing everything!" - "We're gonna have to break in," "And here are your balloons; blue and pink!" "We're in," - "Oh, look. The "constable!" What are you gonna do? Throw me in "ye stocks?'" - "If you're watching this, you are one of eight people in these United States with clearance to view this information. In fact, I myself will be shot once the filming is complete. What? We're not doing? Ha! Well, that's a relief!" - "He is such a jerk," "Yeah, but he's a jerk with tight pants and a guitar," - "I just wanted to tell you that everyone makes mistakes. And when they do, you should forgive them. And also that tight pants are overrated," "Dude. You lost me," "I know," - "You're under arrest for violation of the Time Traveler's Code of Conduct," "It was those kids! And their leader, Waddles!" "That's a pig," - "You can hide, but you cannot hide!" - "I'll get you for this! I'll go back in time and make sure your parents never meet!" - What's going on out here, dudes? I heard a ruckus. Heh-heh, that's a funny word. "Ruckus"," - "I ate a man alive tonight," - "No, buts except yours out the door. now shut your yap and get to work," - "Well, we're still here," "Guess he forgot to go back," - "A darkness approaches. A day will come in the future when everything you care about will change... Until then I'll be watching you! I'll be watching you..." - Today, I learned that morality is relative!" - "I think I'm gonna go stare at a wall for a while and rethink everything," - "Why sweetheart, I wouldn't hurt a hair on your itty-bitty head. If you agree to be my queen!" "NO! Never! I will fight you till the day I- Gummy Koalas!" - "Oh yeah, this is gonna be your worst plot yet. They're fine; I saw them playing in the yard minutes ago," - "I was awoken by the sound of mockery. Where is it? Show me the object of ridicule!" - "Ow!" "I high-five hard," - "You know, kids? I've been thinkin'. At the end of the day, Summerween isn't about candy or costumes, or even scaring people. It's a day when the whole family can get together at one place and celebrate what really matters... PURE EVIL!" - "I'm giving none of this to charity!" - "YOU CAN RUN, BUT I'LL STILL BE IN YOUR NIGHTMARES!!" - "Maybe this is one story we should keep to ourselves," "Agreed," - "Yeah, dude. That sounds science-y enough to be true," - "Ah, the pool! Sparkling oasis of summer enchantment!" "Yeah, nothing like sitting in a moist tub with strangers. It's like the bus but wet." - "I am the lifeguard. I make the rules, sucka! Boosh!" - "Why would a sun need to wear sunglasses?" "It's best not to think about it," - "Wow, you work here?" "I found out lifeguards get free snack privileges. Plus I get the best seat in the house," "Yeah, you do!" - "Yes, yes... burn the child!" - "How long ya in for?" "Two hours for roughhousing, but I'm innocent!" - "Finally, a good reason to punch a teenager in the face! Let's roll!" - "I have never met anyone like you," "Me too. Except for a zombie, a gnome, and a couple of cute vampires," "I don't remember the vampires," "I don't tell you everything!" - "Well if it makes you feel better, the apocalypse is comin' soon! Bury your gold. You've been buying gold, right?" - "Me? Nothing. This? I was just eating some sour candy...so my lips did that...because the candy was so sour," "Can I have some candy?" "...No," - "Road safety laws prepare to be ignored!" - "Wait a second! Is something rooting through our trash? Hey, hey! Get outta here! Darn beautiful men always eating out of my trash. Wait what?" - "You can't put him outside! There's predators! And barbecues!" "That's just the natural order. It's not my fault your pig's potentially delicious!" - "Oh, I get it. You're trying to guilt me! Well, it ain't working, pal! Who cares if you're her favorite thing in the world? I can live without the kid talking to me all the time. Telling me her jokes... making me laugh," - "I've been cheating the last eight turns," "Haha, that's my girl," - "Here! Deer teeth! For you, kid!" - "Gimme that back or I'll..." "Or you'll what, boy? You'll what? Huh? Huh!? No muscles, no brains - face it, you're nothin' without this!" - "The entire lower half of your body is on fire," "Shhh... we're having a moment," - "Karaoke isn't about sounding good. It's about sounding terrible together," - "All right, you undead jerks, you ready to die twice?!" - "What is the ONE thing I asked you NOT to do tonight? "Raise the dead," "And what did you do?" "Raise the dead," - "Hey, well at least you can't deny that magic exists anymore, right? "... Kid, I've always known," "What!?" - "The only wrinkly monster who harasses my family is ME!" - "I'm not an idiot, kid, of course, this town is weird and the one thing I know about that weirdness is that it's dangerous. I've been lying about it to try to keep you away from it, to try to protect you from it. Looks like I didn't lie well enough," - "They're slow! Just power-walk away from them!" - "Dude, you're laying on my bra," - "Man, these movies are a lot less scary when you've actually fought real zombies," - "They sure are taking their time in there," "Didn't he say something about a monster!?" "Oh, no! I thought he was joking!" "You know his jokes are terrible!" - "You think you're so clever, don't you? But you have no idea what you're up against. You will never find the author! If you keep digging, you'll meet a fate worse than you can imagine," - "Would it be wrong to punch a child?" - "Don't stay up all night. The last time you got this sleep-deprived, you tried to eat your own shirt," - It was just a job, kid! No hard feelings. And I've been keeping an eye on you since then, and I must say, I'm impressed! "Really?" "Yep, in fact, you deserve a prize! Here, have a head that's always screaming!" - "I'm gonna stop you! I'm going to find that journal before you do, and I'm gonna stop you!" "Heh, but how can you stop me...if you don't exist?" - "Did he just make out with his puppets?" "I might've dodged a bullet there," - "The point is, I like you. How's about you let me give you a hint, huh? I only ask for a small... favor in return," "I'd never do a favor for you! Don't forget who defeated you last time!" "Right, you "defeated me". Well, if you ever change your mind, I'll be here for you, ready to make a deeaaal," - "Movies are great! You watch the movie, you scare the girl, the girl snuggles up next to you - next thing you know, you gotta raise a kid, your life falls apart... Forget that last part," - "Well, that just put me 90 minutes closer to death. Time you kids learned to watch the classics from my day," "Ooooh, old people movies! Get ready for references we don't understand and words we can't repeat," - "Love God! sign my face!" "Only if you sign mine, baby! LET'S GET WEIRD!" - "You're the worst," - "Just gotta splash this sucker with some anointed water and he should be out of your probably fake blonde hair," - "I was right about you all along. You're just as bad as your parents. Another link in the world's worst chain!" - "Look at who you're talking to, boy. I'm hosting a party for the most powerful people in the world. You think they'd come here if they had to rub elbows with your kind?" "My kind?" - "A forest of death, a lesson learned! And now the manor will BURN!" - "Hey, ugly! Over here! You want me to let in the townsfolk? 'Cause I'll do it! Just change everyone back!" "You wish to prove yourself? Pull that lever and open the grand gate to the town! Fulfill your ancestors' promise!" - "Is this thing broken?" "Our family name is broken! And I'm gonna fix it!" - "Ow! Hot Belgian waffles! Wait, I'm alone. I can swear for real! SON OF A..." - "I wanted to say that you're gonna hear some bad things about me, and some of 'em are true, but trust me—everything I've worked for, everything I care about, it's all for this family!" - "Is this the part where one of us faints?" "Oh, I am so on it, dude," - "What...? W-who is that?" "The author of the journals... my brother," - "You owe us some answers: What's the deal with this portal? Why did you keep this a secret?" "And what happened between you and your brother?" "I hope all of this aligns exactly with my fan-fiction. If not, I will be very disappointed," - "Greetings. Do kids still say greetings? I haven't been in this dimension for a really long time," "Whoa, a six-fingered handshake? It's a full-finger friendlier than normal!" "Heha, I like this kid. She's weird," - "Look, you gonna explain what's going on, here? You're acting like Mom after her tenth cup of coffee," "Listen, there isn't must time. I've made huge mistakes and I don't know who I can trust anymore," "Hey, uh, easy there. Let's talk this through, okay?" - "I'd lost him. I didn't know if he was dead or alive in some distant galaxy, but I knew his journal must have the answer to getting him back. Somehow," - "No, no! You don't understand what I've been through! I've been to prison in three different countries! I once had to chew my way out of the trunk of a car! You think you've got problems? I've got a mullet!" - "That's IT?! You finally want to see me after ten years, and it's to tell me to get as far away from you as possible?!" - "Have you come to steal my eyes!?!" - "My boy, do you know what this means? We must stop everything I've been working on at once... and PLAY!" - "Kids, if I die, make sure I get a bigger tombstone than my brother," - "Look, it's time we stop trying to be so "perfect" and be who we really are. We're crazed, angry, sweaty animals! We're not unicorns, we're WOMEN! AND WE TAKE WHAT WE WANT!" - "You lied to me! Where does that portal really lead?!" "Hoho! Looks like Mr. Brainiac finally got smart! Let's just say that when that portal finishes charging up, your dimension is gonna learn how to party! Right, guys?" - "MONEY!" - "TV lied, man! If you can avoid growing up, do it! I'd give anything to be twelve again," - "Well, it's a horrible opportunity for me! I had the worst day of my life! When we turn thirteen, summer ends and I have to leave everything behind. You're the only person I could count on, and now you're leaving me too?!" - "Look, things aren't gonna stay frozen this way. It's part of growing up. Things change. Summer ends," - "At last! At long, long last! The gate between worlds has opened! The event one billion years prophesied has come to pass! The day has come! THE WORLD IS FINALLY MINE!" - "I'll die before I join you!" - "Open up! This is the police. Time Police!" "Just play it cool, ditch the time-punch. Let me do the talking," - "This is crazy! I'm sorry about our fight, and I'm sorry things aren't great right now, but that doesn't mean you can stay in here forever!" - "Look, real-life stinks sometimes, okay, I'm not gonna lie. But there's a better way to get through it than denial, and that's with help from people who care about you," - "I thought you were living a fantasy, but look at me! I actually thought I was gonna stay here and be his apprentice! Spend my entire teens cooped up in a basement with a lab coat? How ridiculous is that? I don't know what's gonna happen in the future, but whatever it is, you don't have to fear because we'll do it together. I'm not taking his apprenticeship. We've traveled to Heck and back to get you and we're goin' back together. Leave this fantasy world. Let's beat this and grow up together," - "You mean it? You're really coming home with me?" "Yes. Definitely. Absolutely. Awkward sibling hug?" "... Sincere sibling hug," - "Aw, man, I never noticed how bright this place is, ugh! Have I actually been listening to the same song for an entire week?" - "Since the Mayor got captured, I elected myself de-facto Chief. The plan's to stay in here and eat brown meat until we run out. Then I vote we eat the gnomes," "Hey! I'm short, not deaf!" "Shh, shh! Stress will make you chewy!" - "You're insane if you think I'll help you!" "I'm insane either way, braniac!" - "Well, would you look at that! Those kids really care about you. And you care about them. DON'T YOU?!" - "Ohh, I can't believe this! The kids are gonna die and it's all my fault! All because I couldn't shake your stupid hand! Ugh, Dad was right about me. I am a screwup," "Don't blame yourself. I'm the one who made a deal with that psycho in the first place. I fell for all his easy flattery. You would've seen him for the scam artist he is," "... How did things get so messed up between us?" - "Do you really think he's gonna make good on that deal?" "What other choice do we have?" - "Heh-heh! Do a pretty good impression of my brother, don't I? Switch clothes and no one can tell us apart! Welcome to my mind. Surprised you didn't recognize it," - "Oh, yeah. You're goin' down. You're getting erased. Memory gun. Pretty clever, huh?" "Y-you idiot! Don't you realize you're destroying your own mind too?!" "Eh. It's not like I was using this space for much anyway," - "You're making a mistake! I'll give you anything! Money, fame, riches, infinite power, your own galaxy! Please! No...! WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME...?!" - "Hey, look at me! Turn around and look at me, you one-eyed demon! You're a real wise guy, but you made one fatal mistake: you messed with my family!" - "MY TIME HAS COME TO BURN! I INVOKE THE ANCIENT POWER THAT I MAY RETURN!" - "Heh. Guess I was good for something after all," - "You're a hero," - "We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when, oh I know we'll meet again some sunny day," - "Being a hero means fighting back even when it seems impossible," - "If you've ever taken a road trip through the Pacific Northwest, you've probably seen a bumper sticker for a place called Gravity Falls. It's not on any maps, and most people have never heard of it. Some people think it's a myth. But if you're curious, don't wait. Take a trip. Find it. It's out there somewhere in the woods, waiting,"

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writerofshit · 3 years ago

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For almost 3 years the crew doesn't know when Matt's birthday is. This is solely because he never brought it up and sometimes the crew thinks he might have sprouted, fully formed, in front of a computer monitor roughly ten years ago. He didn't. He does in fact have a birthday.

When the crew finally realizes this, Trevor takes one for the team in trying to figure it out. He makes a point to bring it up all nonchalantly, 'yeah, Lindsay says you do that because you're a Virg-....Aquari-... Gemini?' complete with arched eyebrows and wide eyes.

And Matt's an observant guy, yeah, but more so when it comes to patterns in bank transactions or when the local donut shop has his favorite donuts available. People, even friends, are another story entirely. So he just shrugs. 'what does me being a Gemini have to do with liking mustard on a hot dog?'

But Trevor doesn't have an answer for that, of course, because it was bullshit to begin with. Instead he mumbles something about stars and time and relish, scurries off to tell Jeremy what he's learned. Which isn't much, sure, but at least they've got a window now.

The entire crew spends a ridiculous amount of time dropping opinions on May and June dates. 'yeah I'd hate to be born on June 2nd. Wouldn't you, Matt?' and 'May 27th is my favorite date for sure. What's yours, Matt?' and 'i've never met someone with the same birthday as me, May 23rd. Have you, Matt?'

And again, yeah, Matt's an observant guy. Most people, in fact, are probably observant enough to notice when an entire group of criminals act really fucking weird about the calendar. But again, Matt's observant about things like tiny movements on camera feeds or that there's not extra onion on this burger, actually. So he shrugs and says 'yeah I knew someone growing up who was June 6th. We used to argue about who could have a party. I always lost.' like this isn't information the entire crew has been fishing for over the last month. They probably could have asked outright and Matt wouldn't have cared.

It's honestly kind of annoying.

The week his birthday rolls around again, they go all out. Big ass fucking party, invite everyone they can think of. Every old friend not turned enemy, crews they've talked about working with but never got around to, minor celebrities they know Matt will get a kick out of toasting in his honor. It might actually be the biggest party or event or goddamn crowd Los Santos has ever seen. All there for Matt. All celebrating this guy most people have never seen.

It's a kickass time. Matt gets hoisted up and sung to, then Michael, then Fiona, then someone Matt is sure he's never met. 'It's a cover.' Jeremy drunkenly yells in his ear. 'So no one knows who's really you.' It's a sentence that's not quite right, but Matt appreciates the sentiment. It's also probably not even accurate, given that he was the first up and they've made him cut a cake on a stage, for some godforsaken reason. It's the thought that counts, though.

All in all, Matt thinks it might be the most fun he has ever had.

Two days later, on his actual birthday, it's almost the complete opposite. In terms of scale, at least. It's just the crew, up in the old penthouse Geoff swore he'd sold. He hadn't, of course. Never could bring himself to pull the trigger on it.

It's pizza and beer and donuts and cupcakes. It's Mario Kart and Ultimate Chicken Horse and a game of Monopoly that's played in teams, somehow. It's stories that reach all the way back to an alleyway, three idiots pointing guns at each other because they had no idea what they would become, what they'd join into. Jeremy says they were 'pretty sure Matt had never held a fucking gun before that' and Trevor agrees wholeheartedly.

They try to pick their favorite 'Matt's playing music over the loud speakers during a fucking bank robbery' song. It's a tie between Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go ('because i knocked out that fuckin' guard and he thought it was funny!' Michael yells. 'who the fuck thinks of that?' and Call Me Maybe ('because god forbid i take one breath before I answer him. I wasn't even in the bank, i was across the fucking street playing lookout! I only heard it through somebody's earpiece.' Alfredo says, rolling his eyes.)

When the night winds down, and it's no longer Matt's birthday but they're still pretending it is, Jack brings out an apple with a candle stuck in it and Geoff cries with laughter. 'you're getting older, Matt, you gotta eat more fruit.' she says. Matt argues that he does eat fruit, he had a lemon lime flavored cupcake at the party.

There's one whole serious moment during all of it. Things get quiet, Geoff not quite meeting anyone's eyes. 'y'know, Matt, we all make a lot of jokes. We call you an asshole, tell you we hate the plans you make. I don't know how many times I've said I regret hiring you, or any of you, really. And, uh, yeah, sometimes it's true.' It earns him a chuckle from around the room, and he clears his throat. 'but seriously, you're, uh, you're one of the best fuckin people I know. All of you are. And we're lucky to have you. We love you, man.'

Nobody cries, because this is a group of hardened criminals who rob banks and blow up buildings and kill people, sometimes, so of course they don't fucking cry. They do, however, somehow all find themselves with a serious case of the sniffles, all wipe totally non existent tears from their cheeks.

No one says anything, for a long moment, not even Matt. He should be saying thank you, or telling them how much he loves them too, or hell, even cracking a joke. He can't seem to find the words, though.

Jack holds up her beer. 'to Matt.' she says. Around the room, various drinks go up almost immediately, and there's a not even close to in sync chorus of 'to Matt.'

No, tonight is not nearly as grand or extravagant as the party two days ago. There are no expensive cars being raced, no crowds of people shouting 'Axial!', no stages or celebrities or fireworks. This is just his family, together.

It is the best birthday he's ever had.

#this fic? head canon? mini fic?#this whatever brought to you by: it being my birthday and this being all i really want.#fahc #fake ah crew #ks writes

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aerialflight · 3 years ago

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Fic Rec (it's been too long and I read a whole lot of fics)

I've read so many fics these past couple of months and my need to share them to the world has seized me by the throat. Please enjoy and support these fanfic writers! They are the best. XD

[Naruto]

Nine-Tailed Foxes are Dead by RowlettLesbian

Ship: Shikamaru/Naruto

For Konoha, it's been one month since the preliminary Chunin exams. For Naruto, it's been six. And he wasn't in Konoha.

At the end of his ordeal, Naruto walks into the Chunin Exam finals without his left arm.

Shikamaru is very concerned. And, eventually, very precious to Naruto as they work together to solve the mysteries of Konoha and bring kindness to the Shinobi world, one adventure at a time.

(I would die for this fic. I know the summary sounds doom and gloom but IT'S NOT. This fic made me fucking cry, I don't think I've ever read a fic that characterized Naruto so right. He's so full of hope and love and develops into the best version of himself and I'm so HERE FOR IT. And it's not just Naruto, Shikamaru is absolutely amazing here along with Kakashi and surprise surprise Ino, I can't BELIEVE it took me this long to stumble across this fic. Also THE WORLDBUILDING IS TO DIE FOR!!! And the plot! Is! So! Interesting! Just, everything about this fic is just amazing so please PLEASE read this!!!)

The End of the Uchiha by RowlettLesbian

Ship: Naruto/Sasuke

“I promise, little electric spirit of this shrine,” he whispered into the soft dirt and fallen leaves, “I will never gain the eyes. I will never pass them on. And I will make sure the eyes end in my brother, so that they can’t hurt anybody anymore. I will be the last Uchiha, and see to the end of the Copy-Wheel Clan. Then all of the hatred here can stop, and my family can rest peacefully. I promise, little shrine.”

Sasuke is more than his brother thinks he is. He's more than any Uchiha has ever been. He will kill his brother, but it will not be vengeance.

It will be mercy.

(Same author as the one above, they are the gift that keeps on giving. Seriously, HOW did I NEVER FIND THESE FICS before now??? One of life's greatest mysteries. The author's sense of humor is so on point here along with the atmospheric writing that's so vivid in the mind. Their writing style is so recognizable to me now and makes me fall into the world they're creating, it's stunning. Sasuke here makes me want to hug him and the idea of him living like a feral ghibli character has me LIVING. Check the tags of the fic, all of it is true, hand to god. Please give all of the author's fics a shot, it's a rabbit hole I'm thankful I fell into!)

mil fantasmas (gritan en calma) by LegaciesandMemories

Post-Tsukuyomi, something in Uchiha Sasuke's mind shatters. The same night, Yamanaka Ino falls asleep and doesn't wake up for 15 days.

---

In which Ino and Sasuke both wake from the aftermath of the Uchiha Massacre with the ability to see ghosts, and no one is prepared for the fallout.

(This fic has arrested my curiosity and eagerness to know what will happen next. These poor kids need so many hugs and Ino is getting the spotlight she deserves. I am so excited for this fic and what it has in store! Please read! XD)

Lichtenberg Figures by Asteroid_Duck (JustThatOneGirl1815)

Name: Kakashi Hatake Rank: Jounin Status: Missing Nin Missing Since: June 15th, 271 AD Note: Flee on Sight . . . Haburashi looked his team in the eyes— three, fresh out of the Academy genin— and resolved to teach them as best as he could. And right now, his lesson was simple: “Stay. Away. From. Kakashi. Hatake.”

(Dimension travel fic with a slice of Kakashi being an absolute troll and dealing with the shitty hand he's been dealt with. Seriously, the man has the worst luck in all of Konoha. Also, the mystery of the other Kakashi's history has me leaning by the edge of my seat, I need to know.)

The Governess by Ysmirel

Ship: Kakashi/OFC

"“What,” he finally asked, “is so funny?”

Ibara bit her lower lip to keep the chuckles in, still smiling and making absolutely no effort to get more space between them, seemingly perfectly at ease within reach of a trained shinobi. Her self-control wasn't all that good, as she ended up snorting and was overcame once again by another fit of laughter. “I just- It's just-” She struggled to speak, trying to catch her breath and wiping away tears of mirth with the hand that wasn't still holding onto his vest. Finally, she looked him in the eye and said, with a smile that was all teeth and without a hint of her previous drunken stupor, “and who's going to believe you?”

As he stood there, stunned by her words and change in demeanor, he realized with dawning horror that she was right."

In which Kakashi finds himself at the other end of the troll shtick, and he doesn't appreciate it all that much.

(It's so hard to find self-insert fics with a fresh concept these days, especially in the naruto fandom. Not that I don't enjoy and devour a lot of self insert fics like it's going out of style, but it's just so nice to find something new and shiny and really damn good. I'm so pumped for this fic and how it's going to develop so please join me in rooting for this fic!)

half a league (until the valley of death) by SpectersShadow117

Kakashi can think of no reason for Sasuke's inexplicable and drastic change in behavior. He doesn't like the desperate, haunted gleam in his student's eyes, and he also doesn't like the nagging feeling that he's missing something very important. Aka: Future Sasuke goes to Past Sasuke and gives him a reality check with Specific Intentions, but as with most Uchiha, his methods leave much to be desired. (Featuring: Childhood trauma FTW, Konoha's shitty care of orphans, and absolutely no one having a fun time.)

(Sasuke wanting to change the future out of complete and utter spite has me LIVING. Sasuke is such a Mess here and the twist on the time travel premise is so good and the kid is so Traumatized and Desperate and Not Having A Good Time. Naruto and Sakura developing as better ninjas and Kakashi trying his best makes me want to scream. Also, how Sasuke thinks about Itachi makes me want to cackle. I am 100% down for this. I am rooting for this kid, go get them! XD)

[Harry Potter]

fruit loops in time (circle around me) by justprompts

Ships: Harry/Draco, Remus/Sirius

"This is Crabbe, and Goyle," the blonde boy says, pointing at the two boys next to him. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Ma - "

Ron laughs, and Malfoy immediately bristles.

"Think my name's funny, do you?" Malfoy says, angrily. "No need to ask yours - "

"You're honestly so cute," Ron interrupts, yet again, shaking his head. "So tiny. And so angry, all the time. It's adorable."

Alternatively Ron Weasley, Time Traveller Extraordinaire, is stuck in the same seven year Hogwarts Loop, repeating the same thing over and over again. Naturally, he's so done with everything.

(This is the greatest hp fic I've ever read. I LOVE RON WEASLEY and by the time you read this fic SO WILL YOU!! This is the fic I WISH I have the ability to write. I read this entire fic aloud to my brother and we spent literal hours howling and talking about how utterly insane and incredible this fic is, it's amazing. This is hands down my favorite Ron Weasley. You Can Pry This Fic From My Cold Dead Fingers.)

[Boku no Hero Academia]

Kacchan's Cult by Ourliazo

Pro Hero Ground Zero is attacked, originally meant to be de-aged out of existence by a desperate villain but is instead launched into his 14-year-old self.

But Katsuki is a fucking pro so whatever, time to fuck up someone's day. And sure, maybe he's only one man, but that's why he conscripts the entirety of the UA student body into tearing down some criminal empires.

(It's time travel, crack, and Bakugou being his usual explody, competent self. What more in life do you want? Seriously though, please read. I'm obsessed with this fic and having a Good Time!)

Cleaning Crew; Teaching Kids to Value their Safety, for Fun and Profit by Reavv

Takenaka Hideo is a thirty-two year old, in mild desperation for money, who has just been hired as a new janitor for UA's support staff. He has a quirk that lets him find lost objects, a liaison with the police because of it, and desperate desire for competent co-workers.

Oh, and he's already lived a previous life, in a world where quirks and heroes didn't even exist.

Not a big deal, though. It's not like you ever see the janitor playing a big part in action movies. He's here to get paid, and that's it.

On the opposite side of the equation, class 1-A has to wonder at the new UA cryptid that always seems to show up when things are on fire, and who keeps trying to convince them to let the adults handle the fire extinguisher.

(A great deal of fun packed into one fic. That is how I title this fic and nothing will change my mind! Hideo just wants to quietly do his job and not get in the way. I Relate. Please read!)

Poltergeist by WriterGreenReads

Class 1-A is haunted.

Well, not really.

I AM dead, though.

World's friendliest poltergeist, at your service.

(I don't know how I got so sucked into OC fics, but I found some fantastic fics along the way so I have no regrets. The author really tries to push the premise and I just love all the interactions and dynamics that form as the fic gets further in. And the OC character and all the hijinks they get up to cracks me up! At the same time, it's pretty heartwarming and it's practically a friendships galore fic! Definitely recommend it!)

invincible by supercrunch for Engrin

Ship: Bakugou/Midoriya

This is the way the world works: the sun rises in the east. The strong come out on top. Bakugou Katsuki rockets through life like a comet and Midoriya Izuku stumbles after. If he believed in such things Katsuki would say it was written in the stars. That some god of war had looked at him and said this one. That he’d been passed along a line to get his blessings – genius, willpower, fearless ambition – and dropped off on earth.

Then, of course, there is the question of Deku. The spitfire runt. Deku, no matter what the world does to him, never stops hoping.

Until, of course, he eventually does.

(Katsuki broke him. Snapped him in half like a twig and now has to scramble to put Deku back together. “We can do this, Deku," he says slowly. "There are so many mysteries that never got put to bed. Criminals roaming around looking to hurt people and you and me, we can fix that.”

There’s a long pause. The comforter slips a little off Deku’s skinny shoulders and drowns him. “You mean like a team?”

In that split second, Katsuki makes a decision he’s never even considered. He swallows his pride. “Yeah, Deku. We’d be a team.”)

(If there was any other way canon could've gone, this is the story I would've wanted. It's perfect.)

Inadvertent Wilderness Therapy by Cacid

Following an unfortunate encounter with a teleporter on the last day of internships, Bakugou Katsuki and Hakamata Tsunagu spend some quality time in northern Canada.

In no particular order they will: build ugly survival shelters, stalk rabbits, run from polar bears, reflect on the chemical composition of trees, insult each other, and complain about krumholtz.

(THESE TWO. TOGETHER. IN THE WILDERNESS. IN FUCKING CANADA OF ALL PLACES. I still can't believe this fic actually exists and just how INVESTED I became in their relationship. Blue Jeanist instantly became my favorite ranked hero with this fic alone. HIS SENSE OF HUMOR IS TERRIBLE, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH FNIEWOPAF. BAKUGOU DOES TOO. IT'S FUCKING INCREDIBLE. *incoherent screeching into the wild*)

[Stranger Things]

Baci D'aria by RabbitDarling

“Love is worth the sum of itself, and nothing more.” ― Alice Hoffman, Practical Magic

Steve learned a lot at his Aunt's side before she passed but his favourite thing she taught him was baci d'aria; special little spells that you created from the heart and put into the food you shared.

In opening his heart and gifts to those around him Steve slowly finds himself a family in a way he never thought he'd get to experience. One by One he collects pre-teens to trail in his wake like ducklings and Steve can't even refute it by the time he realizes what has happened.

(This fic is so soft and Steve is just collecting people and winning them over with his magical food (literally). I am always a sucker for heartwarming, good for the soul fics so if you want to make yourself hungry and feel all warm and gooey inside, read this!)

(Don't Fear) The Reaper by TeaFourTwo

Ship: Steve/Billy

He looks down at the blood on his hands and on the floor and wonders why the memory hasn’t broken yet, why he isn’t back in Starcourt mall with control of his body again, wonders if he's even still alive at all. Is this hell then? Or perhaps purgatory? It certainly isn’t heaven, that’s for sure. None of this makes any sense…but then what's new—nothing in Billy’s life makes sense anymore.

Billy laughs then, loud and long and unhinged. It's the only sound in the whole house, and it bounces off the walls like a fucked up echo, like the world is laughing with him.

“Jesus christ you’re insane…” It’s Max’s voice and it’s shaking. It only makes Billy laugh harder, because Max has it all wrong. Billy isn’t crazy, it’s the rest of the world that’s insane.

Billy dies a hero of sorts. He wakes up back in his bed on Saturday morning, the third of November, 1984...nearly nine months earlier.

(Billy is stuck in a time loop and it's slowly driving him crazy. And the fic shows just how much influence Billy did have in the plot and how doomed the world is without him in it. Great character exploration with Billy's character and all the ways he's so messy and human. Definitely recommend it!)

[Knives Out]

The Road Less Traveled By by UisceOneLove

Ship: Marta/Ransom

If Harlan wants to leave Ransom to be on his own, fine. He'll show him just what Ransom Drysdale is capable of.

or, where Ransom chooses to prove his abilities through means of the non-homicidal variety and finds himself becoming exactly what Harlan was hoping he would.

(I found this fic out of sheer chance and god, Ransom is just, so fascinating to me as a character. Marta of course is the Best here and I will forever stan her. Seriously, this is such a good fic! Please read!)

[Haikyuu!!]

Sky Full of Stars by grilledsquids

The Hinatas are twins. They're practically identical.

But while Shouyou seeks out Karasuno's volleyball team to become the next Little Giant, Natsu is scouted to to play soccer for Shiratorizawa. While Shouyou sets his eyes on playing volleyball at the highest level possible, his sister wonders how much longer she can play soccer... and if it's worth it to keep going.

A Natsu-centric story featuring: Shiratorizawa VBC shenanigans, too many soccer OCs, mild teenage drama, a little bit of plot, and Semi Eita not knowing what a period is.

(It's just!! So cute and wholesome!!! The Shiratorizawa volleyball team is so fleshed out along with the OC characters for the girl's soccer team and I swear, it's been a long while since I've laughed this much at the sheer shenanigans that happen in a fic. It's surprisingly hard to find good gen fics in this fandom so finding this gem made me so happy! If you want a fic that brings a smile to your face, read this!!)

like water by speakingincode

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says, and when Tooru looks at him, he can read My best friend’s an idiot off the crease of his eyebrows. “Are you telling me you spent the last three years weirdly obsessed with Kageyama – I still remember the time you made us play him on a dumb whim, you know – and now you’re at his beck and call? Are you okay? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m— I’m not at his beck and call! I said no last week. It’s… It’s like you said. I get bored easily. I saw him at the park a couple weeks after they played Nationals and called him a perfect little tyrant, and he pestered me into spending time with him after,” Tooru says. “I’m not a monster, Iwa-chan. If he wants the company of his cool, handsome ex-upperclassman that badly, who am I to begrudge him?”

Or: Oikawa doesn't know why Kageyama keeps asking to meet him on Saturdays. He also doesn't know why he keeps saying yes.

(The fact this fic is canon-compliant and covers post-canon too makes me want to shout to the heavens. Fucking incredible! One of the best Oikakage fics ever and it's a crime how it's not at the top of the ship tag. Please please read!!)

twist into your shape by kakkoweeb

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

The only thing better than sweets were sweets containing paper that told you whether your future would be good or bad--or in Kageyama and Oikawa's case, paper that somehow caused you to live inside each other's bodies.

(Everyone probably already read this fic but it needs to be said, you need to read this fic. How these two try and manage each other's lives and slowly start to care about one another is so beautiful and sincere and I am ready to wrestle anyone to the floor and comply them into reading this fic. Doesn't matter if you like the ship, you will become a fan if you read it, I promise. Please please read!!)

Take the Long Road Home by pepperfield

Ship: Kuroo/Sawamura

When Azumane Asahi goes missing before his engagement meeting with Kozume Kenma, what other option is there but for Daichi to impersonate his brother and fake his way through a first date with Asahi's fiance?

Okay, let's be realistic - there were probably at least four other options.

Unfortunately, Tetsurou couldn't come up with any of them either, so now he's here flirting with Kenma's future husband while trying to keep his web of deceit from collapsing.

It's going to be an eventful day.

(I got obsessed with this ship alongside Oikakage and SO WILL YOU. THE POTENTIAL. THE BANTER. THE FACT THEY'RE BOTH DORKS AND THE FIC HAS IDENTITY SHENANIGANS DANCING ALL OVER IT!! I had so much fun reading this and these two are MEANT TO BE FENIWPAF. If you don't see the potential of this ship, you will now.)

a misunderstanding a day keeps the boyfriend away by bartallen for betuls

Ship: Kuroo/Sawamura

Kuroo doesn’t fall in love hard and fast like many others do – he falls slowly, and very very softly. Most of the times he doesn’t even realise he’s in love with someone until it’s too late.

(Kuroo is the dumbest man alive and I've never related to someone so hard in my life. God help me.)

You like me. by roseknight

Ship: Daishou/Kuroo

Kuroo nearly lived a Daishou-free life, and sometimes he looked back and wondered how much better and how much worse that would've been.

(I didn't even know who Daishou was until I read this fic and now I can't unsee the potential this ship has. I'm a ruined woman and I regret NOTHING.)

Kings of the Road, Kings of the Universe by EzzyDean

Eight magical captains, one bus, an entire summer (and country) waiting for them.

What could possibly go wrong?

(The magic of friendship meets the magic of a summer road trip meets pure magic.)

(CAPTAIN SQUAD IS THE BEST SQUAD SOMEBODY PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SEND ME SOME CAPTAIN SQUAD FICS I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS SQUAD IT'S A PROBLEM AAAAHHHHHH!)

宿縁 : See You Soon by MissKiraBlue

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

Upon arriving at the train station of death, an impure soul is granted a second chance at life against his will. Reincarnating into the body of Kageyama Tobio, a 15-year-old boy who recently committed suicide. Tobio's soul will depart at death and the soul needs to slip in to replace it. If the soul's reformation succeeds, he’ll reenter the cycle of rebirth and regain the right to be reborn. He will have three months to accomplish this task.

“Even though you had enough of life,” the soul whispered into the void of the room, “you were still afraid to hurt your hands, Tobio.”

Afraid of giving himself a scar, if he survived.

He touched his pulse and grasped life and couldn’t help but pity Kageyama Tobio.

"You wanted to die and now I’m here making you live again," he whispered into the night.

(I'm not even exaggerating when I say out of all the fics in this entire goddamn, too long list, this is the fic I'm anticipating and heart eyeing the most. It's only starting, but I already cried on chapter fucking 2, the power of this fic, holy shit. The author also wrote the hq time loop Every Tomorrows series, which I have an undying love for and am full on praying for the day it updates, so you KNOW this fic will be just as good. (Anybody who hasn't read this series, where the hell have you been?? Read it!!) Just, everything about this fic hurts me and something in my chest just aches when I read this fic. Go into it blind with an open heart and I swear to you, it's going to change your life. I'm already calling it. Seriously though, please please read!)

[Crossover]

Learning to Fly by Asteroid_Duck (JustThatOneGirl1815)

Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia, Naruto

The number three hero is a walking (well, flying) contradiction in every sense of the word. This includes his teaching skills. Why had Tokoyami agreed to this internship again? Oh right. He’d thought he was actually going to learn something. …….remind him to never be so optimistic again. . . . OR, Kakashi Hatake is reincarnated as the pro hero, Hawks. Tokoyami Fumikage suffers as a result.

(The reincarnation fic I never thought I needed and it's so good!! I've never really paid attention to Tokoyami and this fic sent me headfirst into loving him. Their dynamic is so interesting and I just love how their relationship develops. Also, Kakashi trolling the poor kid made me cackle, it's great! Definitely recommend it!)

Si Vis Pacem by athenoot

Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia, John Wick

Everything has a price. That's what John has always known and will forever remember, even in death.

Which is pretty ironic considering his current circumstance.

Instead of a grown, scarred, weary body belonging to a man as cruel and broken as him, he's inhabiting a younger, smaller, unblemished one belonging to a child with strangely colored hair, and is living in what seems to be a superhuman society.

Well. May it never be said that John isn't a strategist. He can live with this. Maybe.

(Somewhere out there in the universe, he's certain he could hear the laughter of his enemies from beyond the grave.)

Or: John Wick is reincarnated as Midoriya Izuku. The world should probably watch its back.

(This should be one of the crackiest fics I've read in a while, but it's taken so seriously and I'm so HERE FOR THIS. John Wick being John Wick in a world of quirks and heroes is the GREATEST, honestly, he's so badass. Bakugou, I feel for you, you must be so fucking confused lol. Bakugou trying his best to be a good friend is one of the best things about this fic. Trust me, this fic will make your day, promise!)

A Girl's Mind is a Dangerous Place by clenastia

Fandoms: Naruto, Fairy Tail

Natsu wakes up in Sakura's body. It only gets worse from there. Also known as: In Which Natsu has No Idea what to do with Boobs.

(I binged this in two fucking days, I couldn't put it down. This fic reminded me why I liked fairy tail when I was younger and why Natsu is honestly such a great protagonist, god. And the fic does that thing, you know, the Thing where when two worlds collide, the characters struggle to acclimate and adapt to a completely another world with different rules and mindsets against their own. This fic is seriously one of the best when it comes to that aspect, it's incredible. I am going absolutely feral over here for this fic to update, I'm waiting in the wings, ready to pounce like a tiger, all the metaphors man. For the love of god, read this fic.)

Give me a landscape made of obstacles by Melise

Fandoms: Naruto, Natsume's Book of Friends

Kakashi Hatake isn’t who he says he is.

Because the truth is that he’s actually a youkai in disguise, a wolf spirit named Madara who stumbled across the Hatake clan during the Warring States Period. Intrigued by the shinobi he saw, he’d proposed a temporary alliance in which he would offer the clan protection in exchange for their teachings.

Decades later, Madara is surprised to find himself inadvertently summoned to Konoha by the last living member of the Hatake clan. Sakumo Hatake, who is mourning the recent deaths of his wife and stillborn child, doesn’t want to be alone anymore. So with his permission, Madara takes the place of Sakumo’s deceased son in order to watch over the last Hatake.

(Fusion in which the youkai of Natsume’s Book of Friends all exist in the Naruto world. No knowledge of Natsume’s Book of Friends required).

(Before this fic, I only had a very vague idea of what Natsume's Book of Friends was, and honestly, I still don't know much about it. But I didn't really need to know to get into this fic. I love the worldbuilding and the relationships Kakashi forms, both supernatural and mortal. I love how Kakashi's inhumane ways affect others around him, whether to stress them out or become used to the strange. You can go straight into this fic without knowing anything and absolutely still have a fantastic time. I definitely recommend this so please read!)

#Fanfiction #AO3 #Fic Rec #Fic Rec List #Naruto #Harry Potter #Boku no Hero Academia #Stranger Things #Knives Out #Haikyuu!!#Crossover #John Wick #Fairy Tail #Natsume's Book of Friends

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vickysaurus · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 1,991 times in 2022

431 posts created (22%)

1,560 posts reblogged (78%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@paleontologylife

@kt--extinction

@chloepleasestopdying

@1dinodaily

@tippenfunkaport

I tagged 1,961 of my posts in 2022

Only 2% of my posts had no tags

#dinosaur - 596 posts

#paleoart - 574 posts

#the owl house - 374 posts

#toh - 373 posts

#theropod - 329 posts

#toh spoilers - 283 posts

#paleoblr - 280 posts

#luz noceda - 184 posts

#amity blight - 170 posts

#cretaceous - 168 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#the other stegosaur came from a happy meal i ended up with after i was unable to complete a delivery for mcdingdongs a couple years ago

My Top Posts in 2022:

See the full post

1,090 notes - Posted October 21, 2022

Guzma is my hero. I’ve always wanted to be able to respond to trainers who wanna battle like this.

1,511 notes - Posted June 3, 2022

So Prehistoric Planet is amazing. A random thought I had near the end is that we actually saw almost no dinosaurs in this episode! Just the T. rex beach trip at the start, the rest was all pterosaurs, marine reptiles, ammonites, and other friends. What a flex for a Mesozoic documentary to in its very first episode go ‘Actually we don’t even need to talk about dinosaurs, all the other amazing creatures that lived alongside them can carry an episode on their own’.

1,718 notes - Posted May 23, 2022

Something unexpected that I really love about Prehistoric Planet is how it stays in a single period in time and explores it, rather than trying to cover the entire Mesozoic and show the world changing. If you showed an alien the programme with the intro cut out and the title censored, they probably would never even guess it was a show about a distant time in Earth’s past. In just being a wildlife documentary that happens to be set 66 million years ago, it’s showing the Maastrichtian world as a living, full-formed, very real world that existed for an unbelievably long time, rather than a phase in an even longer evolutionary process. Now don’t get me wrong, I love wide sweeps of evolutionary history like Walking With Dinosaurs too, but Prehistoric Planet’s vibes are very different and I never knew I needed them. In fact, I’m really hoping we won’t even see a trace of the meteorite in episode five. Let me just go on a little tangent to really get into why.

This is Trix the T. rex. I saw her in the Naturalis natural history museum. She lived and died 67 million years ago. Now, it is very easy for me to see that date and be filled with a sense of impending disaster. ‘Just before the end’ is a thought that quickly appears. But when you really think about it, that’s ludicrous. Trix lived her life, and then after she died her species continued to thrive for a million years. There’s thrice as much time between her and the Tyrannosauruses who died in the K-Pg extinction as there is between me and the first members of my species! And as for the thousands of years of recorded human history, those are a mere drop in that sea of time. Those years didn’t pass any faster back then than they do now, nor were they any less real. There were just as many moments in any one of those thousand millennia between Trix and the meteorite as there were in the millennium between me and Basil the Bulgar-slayer. If a wizard told you your species and your world would continue to thrive for a million years before eventually most of your clade would get wiped out by a terrible catastrophe, would you see your world as a doomed and temporary one about to go over a precipice? I think I would be delighted to know we have such a vast sea of time left.

This got longer and more philosophical than I expected, but the point is that I love the focus on the Maastrichtian as a diverse, living world, rather than the last age of the Mesozoic. We don’t know whether Prehistoric Planet is set a million, fifty thousand, or nine hundred years before impact, and it doesn’t really matter either. Even though all those dates are, geologically speaking, so close to the end of the Cretaceous we could barely tell the difference between them, they all have more time left than any of the animals can possibly conceive of. None of the animals we see in Prehistoric Planet have ever seen a Stegosaurus, and none of them will die as a consequence of a meteorite striking the Earth.

2,317 notes - Posted May 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Alador: “So, Mittens, how did you and Luz meet anyway?”

Amity: “Well, I spotted her hiding in a cauldron covered in abomination goop and-”

Alador: *sighs* “How romantic, it was always my dream to meet someone like that...”

3,252 notes - Posted May 23, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Hey i finally figured out how to do this thing #turns out there’s a link at the bottom of the posts #also look at how close the dates on my top 4 posts are #i peaked at the end of may 2022

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captainsjack · 4 years ago

Text

gus has been planning his and shawn’s wedding since the 8th grade.

it started out innocent enough, just gus thinking about how he’d like his wedding to be - colour schemes, ties, food, etc, and eventually he even made a little binder of magazine cut outs and his own written ideas, with colour coded tabs, each section cross-referenced with various forms of organization. and then, eventually, somewhere along the way, he realised he was probably, most likely, in love with his best friend, and all of the sudden that ambiguous figure in front of the altar now had shawn’s face, and then gus started thinking about what shawn would like at his wedding - their wedding.

and the binder then became more detailed and more packed with papers, and it was something gus turned to along the years whenever he was feeling particularly depressed about being in love with his best friend.

he keeps it under his bed, hidden away, and only pulls it out when there’s something more he wants to add or when he really can’t stop thinking about how much he loves shawn.

when shawn leaves after high school without saying goodbye, gus almost burns the binder. the only reason he doesn’t, is because it’s actually filled with some good ideas and he doesn’t want all of that to go to waste. so he keeps it under his childhood bed while he’s at college, and the person in front of him at the altar isn’t shawn anymore - it can’t be. no matter how much he wants it to.

when gus packs up his stuff after graduating, after he’s finally found a job and a decent place, he doesn’t really think twice about packing the binder too. he just takes all his things, and the binder is in a box of other important papers that gus brings along.

gus hasn’t thought about the binder in years. when shawn moves back, they fall back into their rhythm pretty quickly, and soon enough, gus realises that those feelings from so long ago never really went away.

the longer shawn stays, the harder it is to stuff those feelings down, and it’s not long before gus is looking over the binder once more. (he’s reread and edited his vows plenty of times, and now gus considers writing a new draft - one that wasn’t written by a 12 year old). as he reads it over again, he realises that he was in love with shawn before he even could put words to it. the unnamed person at which the vows were directed, ones he’d written 20 years ago, everything he’d written about him, were all things he could say to shawn - things he wanted to say - and it was clear to him that the person he was describing had always been his best friend.

they’re at gus’s apartment one night, and apparently gus had been a bit careless this time, because shawn walks out of his bedroom (having just changed his shirt - he’d spilled salsa on it and gus was Not going to have whatever shawn couldn’t or wouldn’t wipe off get all over his couch and pillows) holding the binder, a confused little smirk on his face, and he asks “dude, what’s this?”

gus freezes as he realises what shawn’s holding, and can barely restrain himself from physically punching himself in the face for not putting the binder back under his bed where it belonged.

“nothing,” he chokes out.

shawn flips through a couple more pages, tilting his head a little, and gus is absolutely frozen - his mind completely circuiting out, and shawn looks at him and says, “wow man, you put a lot of thought into this!”

a part of gus relaxes, because, oh, good, maybe shawn hasn’t seen the parts with him in it, maybe he just thinks this is gus planning his own wedding. so he stumbles out with a “uh, oh yeah. i kinda forgot about that, i think it’s from high school,” and turns back to putting their dishes away.

and shawn still has that irritating little smirk on his face and he looks back down at the binder and says, “yeah, cool wedding, but why’s my name in it?”

gus thinks that somehow, all of the oxygen in his apartment has disappeared, and he’s looking anywhere but shawn, when he quickly says, “i have to account for best man stuff,” and hopes to god shawn buys it.

shawn hums lightly, still looking curiously at the page, as he casually makes his way over to gus. “i’m pretty sure vows aren’t directed at the best man.”

oh.

shawn flips through a couple more pages, and gus is absolutely, completely silent, seriously considering just running the fuck out of the place and starting a new life in mexico.

he’s staring at the bowl of apples on the table, body frozen solid, and gus is quite sure he hasn’t breathed in about 3 minutes.

shawn looks back up at gus, tilting his head a bit, and gently puts the binder down on the table.

gus hasn’t moved.

he hasn’t moved, and he’s not planning on moving - he’s perfectly content standing here pretending he doesn’t exist, until he feels shawn’s hand on his face, feels the warmth of his shoulder as it brushes his own, and then shawn’s lips brush against his lightly.

gus is still frozen, but shawn moves closer to him and presses his lips against gus’s again, this time a bit harder. and he kisses him again, and again, and again, until, finally, gus kisses back.

as shawn pulls away once more, hands curled around gus’s neck, his nose brushing his, he smiles against gus. “i like september better, august is too hot,” he murmurs.

eyes still closed, hands slightly loosening on shawn’s hips, gus is only half aware of what’s going on when he says, “but i like summer colors.”

shawn pauses in consideration, lightly pressing another kiss to gus’s mouth. “june then,” he says.

and as gus finally opens his eyes, his brain finally caught up to speed but still filled with so many questions, he smiles softly at shawn and says, “deal.”

shawn grins back and kisses him again.

#ok and then shawn drags gus over to the couch and goes through the entire binder - editing it and filling it with his own ideas #shawn is Very into it #ANYWAYS IM CRYING #psych #shawn spencer #burton gus guster #burton guster #shus #shawngus #shawn x gus #shawn/gus #my writing #(sort of)#my post

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descendantofthesparrow · 4 years ago

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Encore - POYW - Harry Hook x reader - part 23 - finishing touches

You hummed around your fork as the creamy buttercream hit your tongue, looking down at your lap that held your aunt's tablet as you looked over the concept art your aunt had made for your wedding cake.

They ranged from sheet cakes with black and red swirling designs to four-tiered cakes with black and silver designs with red roses decorating the top and bottom tiers.

“these are all so pretty, I have no clue which one to choose” you sighed, setting down the fork next to the crumbs of your once existing sample cake, you and Harry had decided on the flavors a bit ago, chocolate raspberry truffle cake with raspberry glaze and chocolate buttercream and angel food with light vanilla buttercream.

Tonks, your aunt, laughed and held her hand out for the tablet, you leaning over with it and placing it in her hand “that’s no problem if you can't decide right now, there's no rush since your wedding isn’t till…have you decided when you’ll get married?” you paused at her question and shrugged, you honestly didn’t remember if you and Harry had decided on a date, almost everything was ready and set.

The place, the décor, the flowers, the bridesmaids, groomsmen, junior bridesmaids, and groomsmen all chosen, their clothes and accessories ready to be of use. the flower girls were chosen and their clothes ready, the place where you would have the reception at was chosen, the food at the reception was chosen, who was going to marry you and Harry (FG offered to marry the two of you, being the one to originally separate you she wanted to officially bind you together as an apology), who was going to give you away (your aunt), the archway you were going to be married under was designed, Evie said your dress and Harrys suit was ready, the guest list was long since completed, all that was left to do was chose the cake design and decide the time and day to get married really.

“not sure yet, I’ll ask Harry the next time we talk about wedding stuff” you smiled as Tonks gave you a grin and flipped through her cake designs again.

“im sure you’ll pick the best day, now pick a cake” she slid the tablet back over to you. You picked it up and scrolled through the designs again.

You finally decided on the four-tiered cake with white fondant and silver piping designs, with black borders and red roses swirling from the top to the bottom. “great choice, now I think you have a final dress fitting to get to~” Tonks teased, standing to give you a hug and waving you off as you walked into the back to go through a portal to the descendant's universe.

You stuck your key into the storage room door lock and turned it, the portal opening behind the closed door. You swung it open and stepped into the shimmering light portal.

A moment later you stepped out into Evie's starter castle, calling out to her to let her know you were there “Evie!! Im here!” you heard her call back to you from the greenhouse turned office and you made your way over to her. “so I heard that my dress is ready?” Evie spun in her chair, facing away from the light purple dress she was working on, and nodded with a bright grin.

“All ready! Harry's suit is done too but I’ll have him come by later, try it on!” she dashed over to one of her movable dress wracks and plucked a gorgeous white dress with billowy sheen sleeves, a plunging sweetheart neckline, and a long sheer train that flowed from the back. “here you go! Now go go! I want to see the finished product on you!” she squealed, jumping in excitement as you took the dress and went to go change behind the changing screen Evie had installed a while ago for her costumers that came personally to her office.

It took a minute or two to get into the dress, with all the fabric but it was pretty easy to figure out how to put it on. Finally, you zipped up the back and picked up the skirt, and stepped out from behind the changing screen.

Evie gasped and clapped erratically “O M G it's perfect~!!! You look so amazing!!!” you let out a small laugh and let Evie lead you to her standing mirror, gasping at your reflection.

(yes im showing the design again im so damn proud of this dress i want it for my own wedding if i ever have one)

It was exactly the way you had designed it, from the small gems decorating your neckline to the white sapphire waist overlay “Evie, it's perfect” your voice cracked, pure happiness overwhelming you “it’s exactly what I wanted, and dreamed of”

“thank you so much for trusting me with it (y/n), and it's beautiful because you designed it too, you have an amazing eye for fashion” Evie giggled, holding onto your shoulders and smiling at you in the reflection of the mirror. “you are going to take Harry's breath away on your wedding day”

You laughed again, wiping the tears from your eyes and turning, wrapping your arms around Evie and hugging her tightly “thank you so much Evie” she hummed and hugged you back.

“you’re welcome (y/n), it’s the least I could do for all I've done” you raised your brow and leaned back, about to ask her what she meant before you remembered she had helped Mal kidnap you to have FG transport you back to your world.

“Still, thank you” you patted her arm, twirling back around and admiring the dress again. “I love it so much.”

“im glad” Evie sang, walking back over to her desk and continuing on the dress she had paused working on when you walked “so is everything almost done?”

“yep” you chirped, spinning and grinning to yourself as the skirt and train flared around you. “it’s all done actually, all that’s left is for Harry to try on his suit and for us to pick a day and time”

“oh, the archway is finished?” Evie asked, looking over her shoulder at you. The archway that you and Harry would be married under would be installed on your new ship for your wedding, but you and Harry had gone through a billion designs before finding the perfect one, and it had just been finished building and all it needed were its white and red roses decorating the main top boards.

“yep, Harry and I approved the final work two nights ago, we’re basically ready to get married at any point now” you turned and walked back over to the changing screen, unzipping the dress and letting it fall down your arms. “again, just need to pick a day”

Evie clapped her hands in glee “oooh I so excited, honestly, I think im more excited for this than I am Mal and Ben's wedding” you laughed loudly at that.

“Really?” you tilted your head out of the screen, raising your brow at Evie “why?”

“I don’t know” Evie sighed “something about it being more…private? And it’s really just going to be personal friends and family with some extra people, right? it just feels a bit more intimate than their wedding which is going to be broadcasted across Auradon”

You hummed, yeah you were glad you didn’t have to deal with all that for your wedding, and your wedding, hopefully, also would have Carlos actually there, he had mentioned that the day of Mal and Bens wedding was the day of his very important-you can't miss it or you’ll fail the entire year-finals test for veterinary school.

Ben and Mal had tried to reschedule their wedding so Carlos could attend but unfortunately, everything was all set and both were unable to move the date. They promised they would have either Jay or Doug record everything for him so he could at least see the wedding “personally” instead of on the news, he would be there for the reception but he would be missing the ceremony.

“what month are you thinking for it?” Evie wondered aloud, the hum of her sewing machine overpowering her voice a bit.

“im thinking either late spring or early summer? So May or June. I don’t want it to be cold as all hell but I don’t want it to be so warm everyone's sweating?” you shrugged on your shirt and zipped up your boots, stepping back out into the main area of Evie’s office with your dress in your arms “honestly I dunno, I’ll talk to Harry tonight about it, we're having dinner at my place.”

Evie nodded at that and stood, taking your dress and hanging it back up on her rack. “awesome, welp, we’re all done here! So” she waved her hands at you as if casting a spell “why don’t you get back to…whatever you were doing or needed to do after you were done with this” you laughed and nodded, spinning on your heel and walking out of Evie's office, waving her goodbye as you stepped out into her kitchen.

“kay, bye Evie!”

“bye!”

A couple of hours later and you were in your kitchen stirring up the mashed potatoes as Harry checked on the tri-tip. “think it's ready yet?” Harry turned to you, nodding his head at the oven.

“just check it with the meat thermometer, if it's 145 degrees it's ready” Harry nodded, putting on some oven mitts and taking out the tri-tip, sticking the meat thermometer in, and grinning.

“145, we’re ready” you nodded and turned off the heat for the gravy, and uncovered the cheese biscuits.

“Okay, ill cut it up and you can take the veggies out of the microwave and pour ‘em in the bowl thing”

You grabbed a carving knife and a large fork, transferring the tri-tip to a cutting board and slicing it up. You worked in comfortable silence to finish your prep for dinner, the only heard was your knife against the meat and cutting board and the soft music playing on Harry’s Bluetooth.

“ready!” Harry called, getting out two plates and setting them on the counter, walking over to you and kissing your cheek “thank yeh for helping me make this darling”

“you’re welcome Harry” you hummed, setting down the knife and fork and walking around Harry to get to the plates “plate up! And let's eat!”

After filling your plates with tri-tip, mashed potatoes and gravy, cheese biscuits, and corn, your dinner was ready to eat. You and Harry sat down at the counter/kitchen window and clinked your sodas before digging in, Harry dancing in his seat a bit as he bit into his food.

“good?” Harry just hummed happily, and nodded, picking up his biscuit and bobbing his head as he bit into it. “good.” You laughed slightly and dug into your own food, humming as you bit into the tri-tip “good job on the tri-tip, it’s fucking bomb” Harry grinned and his ears turned red.

“Thank yeh, Uma taught me how ta season steak a bit after the barrier came down.” You laughed again and pulled out your phone to text Uma.

“well she's a damn good teacher, it’s fucking bomb” you sent a quick text to Uma telling her that she needed to teach harry more cooking stuff and she sent back a wink and a thumbs up.

“soooo” you and Harry spoke in unison, stopping to look at each other and laughing “okay okay” you waved your hands around “me first” Harry laughed a bit and nodded, leaning on his fist and watching you “so, twice today I've been asked when we’re getting married and-I realized I don’t remember if we talked about it, like, at all” Harry snorted.

“aye, Evie, Uma, an’ CJ asked meh the same thing, and yeah we’ve…never talked about when we want ta get married” you and Harry shared an ‘oh shit’ smile and you shook your head.

“well, when Evie asked me about it the first thought that came to my head was early summer or late spring, so like, May or June?” harry hummed and tapped the counter with his fingers.

“huh, May actually sounds good, um, weekend or weekday?” you lifted your feet and rested them on the sideways beams of Harry's stool.

“mmm, weekend? Mostly everyone will be free on the weekends” Harry nodded, and took another bite of mashed potatoes “maybe a Saturday?”

“sounds good” Harry mumbled through his food, swallowing it and taking out his phone, opening his calendar and scrolling up to May “um, so we have the 1st, 8th, 15th,22nd, and the 29th for Saturday’s”

You leaned closer to Harry and set your chin on his shoulder, examining the calendar on his phone “how bout the 22nd? That way it’s not too soon for anyone's schedule and not the direct end of the month” Harry smiled and nodded in agreement.

“that’s perfect, May 22nd it is, that’s when we'll get married” Harry pressed a kiss to your forehead “I can't wait for that day, my love”

“I can't wait either, I tried on my finished dress today and I just wanted to show you immediately, it's so dang pretty~!” you squealed, grinning as Harry chuckled at your enthusiasm.

“and I can't wait ta see you wearing it, I can’t wait ta see yeh walk down the aisle towards me and I can't wait ta call yeh meh wife” you forced down the burning in your nose and eyes and wrapped your arms around Harry, burying your face in his shoulder. “and I can't wait to call you my husband, and love you for the rest of my life” Harry hugged you back tightly, pulling you into his lap and pressing his cheek to the side of your head.

“I love you so much (y/n)”

“I love you too Harry”

“finally! I was wondering when you two were going to pick a date, I've kept my calendar open just in case you two decided to say ‘fuck it’ and get married on a whim.” Uma waved her hands about as she ranted, and you hid your smile behind your glass and took a sip of your (drink)

“Yeah, guess we can also finally print those invitations now too” Uma hummed at that and set her cup down, tilting her head at you.

“well, the guest list is all done, right? So it won't be that much to do” you shook your head and took another sip of your (drink).

“Nope, just the design, and then printing, and everything will be ready to go, Harry and I already called Ben about using his private docks for the wedding because that’s where our ship is and he’s all for it” Uma nodded, moving forward on the table and resting her chin in her palm.

“so, next month, you and Harry get married~” you giggled in excitement and danced in your seat a bit.

“yep, hard to believe it's been almost a year since we got engaged, I feel like it's only been a month” you wished wistfully, a dreamy smile on your face “when I arrived on the isle, I never thought that Harry and I would even meet, then all of a sudden I was a part of your crew.” You and Uma shared a reminiscent smile, it had happened oh so long ago, all the way back in 2017 after D2 had released, and now it was 2021 and you were engaged to Harry freaking Hook, Uma was one of your best friends, Gil the other best friend, and you could travel from your world to the descendant's world.

It was like a dream come true, and if it was just a dream?

You hoped you would never wake up.

-end of part 23-

I know these wedding planning parts are lowkey kinda boring but really im just trying to set up the wedding part(s) (if it seems like im dragging everything out pls tell me, I don’t want to bore yall)XD which is soon! It'll probably be posted on May 22nd and considering I've been posting like, once a month (im sorry lol), the next chapter may possibly be the wedding chapter but IDK~!!! But anyway thank you all for reading my dumb Harry Hook x reader that I started back in 2018 so it been like, more than two years since I posted the first part and for some reason yall liked it and asked for more??? Which like, my writing fucking sucked back then, so why the fuck did yall like it? XD

Anyway, just saying again that I will be making rewrites of part of your world and reprise, encore I’ll leave alone since I think it has okay writing, I might re-edit the first couple parts if I cringe enough at em but otherwise, encore will be left alone while the first two parts of the series will get rewritten. I will leave the original versions up but again, new versions coming after I finish encore.

Thank you! - R.Sparrow

(oh! also I designed the invitations~

pretty~ okay im done!)

permtaglist

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @random-thoughts-003

@remembered-license @verboetoperee

@thecaptainsgingersnap @imtryingthisout @rintheemolion

@jatp-rules-my-life

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #encore #part of your world #reprise

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thirstyandbeautiful · 4 years ago

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angst #34: “I would’ve done anything for you.” Not driver specific, but I would love to see something about how the driver let fame get to their head and they start leaving behind the people that have been there from the beginning OR they take advantage of the things that the reader does for them until reader snaps and can’t take anymore (no this isn’t completely self-serving what’re you talking about!!)

June Drabbles: Breaking Up 34. “I would’ve done anything for you.”

You leaned back on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, and stared at the front door. You’d just finished packing, and already sent some building staff down with your bags to put into your car. You were hoping that the most recent IG story you’d seen of your boyfriend in the car meant that he was on his way back to the hotel.

Your nerves were shot, the only saving grace of the whole night was that you had no more tears to cry. Months of this facade of a happy relationship crumbling behind closed doors had dried you up, made you indifferent to the man you’d once made sure your world revolved around.

And that was the trouble wasn’t it?

At first, things were all roses. Literally and figuratively. He bought you things, took you places. He showered you in love and affection, you thought it would never end. It was so easy to be sucked into his world, to want to bask in the warmth of his love and take it in like the sunshine from the hottest burning star.

And you’d made him your star, your whole world. You’d followed him around the globe, made yourself flexible, missed important dates with your family and friends because he was in Baku, Abu Dhabi, Melbourne; your constant excuses and explanations all revolving around him. You wore what he liked, went where he liked to go, hung out with his friends. You smiled and never fussed, you went along with his every plan and word. You never pushed back, never complained.

You’d made it too easy for him, you’d been too good, too pliant.

It wasn’t until you were exhausted and alone in a hotel room in France that you realized you were ragged from living your life for this man who really dragged you around, emotionally and physically.

You were wiped from the constant travel, tired from the constant jet lag. All he wanted to do was party, and as his team and standings did better and better, or worse and worse, he rode those highs and lows with partying.

He was constantly out, leaving you in a hotel alone. Going out with people you had never known existed, that you questioned in your head. Too many stories of meeting you came out on tiktok, too many nights he came stumbling in at the early morning hours, sick or too tired.

His affection morphed, and instead of the roses, the kisses, the sex, you got nothing but blank looks and hand holding when you grabbed for his. The questions in your head threatened to eat you alive.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

So you’d told your mother, and your friends. You told them none of the good that you’d bragged about since meeting him, you told them all of the bad. All of the drunken fights, the disappearing at 2am, the weird fan accounts, stories on the internet, all of it. You poured your insecurities out until they could say nothing to comfort you aside from ‘come home’.

And God, did you miss home.

It felt sick, and part of you had begged you to leave, to leave while he partied, let him figure out you left. He wouldn’t realize for hours, and when he did, maybe he wouldn’t even say anything, or maybe he’d beg for you to come back, to meet him in the next country.

You didn’t know which would hurt more.

But part of you, the part that was barely hanging on by a thread, told you to stay. To keep treating this disaster like the relationship you’d forced yourself to believe it was, to break up properly. There was no way you could turn back now that you’d told everyone what a bastard he was.

You were mad at yourself, and eager to leave. It was a sick anticipation, one that filled you with the dread of a confrontation, but the elation of freedom. Both were just outside that door, you only needed one to make it’s way in before the other would be waiting to pick you up on the other side.

The stumbling down the hall made your ears perk up. You sat up straight as you heard the fumbling of a key car, the tapping of him missing the slot. When he finally got it right, the door beeped and he stumbled in.

You remembered a time when catching his eye as he came into a room made your world slow, filled your chest with warmth, emptied your head of thoughts. Now you just wanted to roll your eyes as he grinned at you.

“Hey baby, what are you doing up?” He strode into the room toward you.

You pushed yourself up so you were standing and smoothed down your coat.

“Whoa, why are you- are you going somewhere?”

You nodded, taking a few steps forward so you were standing beside him. You purposely stood closer to the door, “Yeah, yeah, I’m going to the airport.”

Shock and then confusion bloomed on his overheated, tipsy face, “What? Why? No, come to bed.” He motioned for you to come closer but you shook your head.

“No, I’m leaving.” You said clearly before you looked him in his eyes, “I’m leaving you.”

“You can’t leave me!” He shouted as he watched you back up towards the door and further from him, “Where are you going to go?”

“Home.” you said softly, refusing to match his hysterical tone, “I’m going to my mother’s. I’ve already called her, she’s expecting me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re going to do this to me on a race weekend?” He was so angry, but you weren’t afraid of upsetting him anymore.

You didn’t miss a beat, “Yes.”

The color drained from his face, “No, you don’t mean this.”

“I do.”

“No! You can’t just leave, you haven’t told me what I’ve done!”

“I don’t want to know what you’ve done.” you bit out, “I just want to go home, I want to go home and be around people who care about me.”

“I love you,” he yelled, his eyes teary, “I would’ve done anything for you!”

“No, no, no!” You finally snapped and yelled, “If you would’ve done anything for me, you would’ve been here. If you loved me-” you choked on the word ‘love’, “you would’ve acted like it.”

You took a deep breath, and with one last look at his shocked face you pivoted on your heel and went out the door.

#w #hoe fairy #OUCH #lets cry #june drabbles

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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

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Until It’s Gone (Spencer Reid Drabble)

Summary: Spencer and Reader break up.

Category: Drabble Couple: GenderNeutral!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: Breakup, heartbreak Word Count: 972

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

Summer rain never failed to fascinate me after the first time I ever experienced it. There was something about the cruel irony of a monstrous thunderstorm in the middle of June when just a day ago it was bright and sunny. In this I learned that if the weather can change so drastically in less than 24 hours, so too can feelings. . . or even a person. The weather and my world did a 180 that day.

“It wouldn’t be fair to you. You deserve more.”

Despite what you may believe, I wasn’t moved to tears by the fact that my boyfriend of three years was breaking up with me, I was moved to tears out of frustration that I couldn’t even be mad at him. He was being sincere and honest, which was my favorite thing about him. And that’s precisely the reason why it made this hurt a million times more. He meant what he was saying - I deserved more, but he wasn’t willing to give me that.

If I had gathered enough nerve to say it, here’s what I would’ve said:

I don’t wanna have “more” with someone else. I just want you and all that you can give me, because I love you.

Then again, though, I didn’t have the nerve, because how do you ask someone to keep loving you?

My eyes finally broke contact with the rain falling off the awning and I looked into his eyes for probably the last time ever. I wasn’t sure if I could bring myself to look at them any longer or one more time without completely breaking.

I’ll miss those beautiful hazel eyes. I hope the next girl appreciates them as much as I did.

“I want you to have more, too.” I finished my sentence with a bittersweet smile, wiping hot tears as they cascaded down my cheeks.

Truly, I meant that I wanted him to have more. Hence the tears. It was the physical manifestation of my realization that I was no longer enough.

“Lemme walk you to your car.” He said after a moment, expediting the goodbye I’d been deliberately delaying.

He pulled an umbrella from a tall pot by his door. That silly umbrella pot was the very first thing I noticed the first time I came over.

Now it was the last.

Going from being attached at the hip, to keeping our distance under an umbrella, I realized what this all meant. Things were already different between us.

How soon we went from lovers to strangers.

When we reached my door, despite it all, he still opened it for me. My heart sank at his chivalry. The chivalry that I never knew existed in guys until I met him.

I knew I’d regret just getting into my car without a proper goodbye so I wrapped my arms around his torso, enveloping him in a hug, and I got this feeling.

It was that feeling, that sickly sweet feeling where you can’t get any closer enough to them but you try anyway. The craving for an intimacy that cannot be physically achieved no matter how close you are but still clawing at their clothes as an attempt to. It’s the desire to possess their being. Go inside them. Seep into their skin.

You just want to feel their touch to the fullest magnitude, so you shut your eyes in hopes that taking away your sense of sight might just heighten your sense of touch. And maybe then you’ll actually be able to feel love beating in their heart and it’ll tell you what they’re not saying - they don’t want to see you leave as much as you don’t want to go.

Even though we have hugged countless amounts of times before, I’ve never grown tired of his gentle touch. It was the most lovely, safe, warm feeling, but now, it felt like the memory was fading fast already. I couldn’t grasp at enough of those moments before they left to commit them to a part of my mind that would so vividly remember it, that I actually could feel it - like it was real. This was the last real hug of his I would ever be able to truly feel.

“Goodbye, (y/n) (y/l/n).” He whispered.

This goodbye was different. Something in the way he said it seemed so final.

“Goodbye, Spencer Reid..”

He rested his chin on the top of my head and for a second, I could hear his heart beating out of his chest, just like mine was.

Could I feel the love beating from his heart? The rhythm that would convince me to stay?

I wouldn’t know. He pulled away before I could.

He kissed the top of my head while backing away from me, and I tried not to let myself like it so much, otherwise, I might miss it all the more.

I didn’t realize how tight both of us were holding on until we let go. There was an urge in me to pull him back for another hug and linger there a little longer, but I suppressed it.

I smiled at him before sliding into the driver’s seat. Again, he made a point to close my door gently.

He started back down the driveway, waiting at the front door, to see me leave. I’d forever be haunted by the image of him waving goodbye in my rearview mirror. It breaks my heart every day.

To think, a day ago, it was a breezy 70°, but today, it was 56° and pouring. Likewise, a day ago, I was somebody’s future and now I’m somebody’s past.

How quickly things can change.

How painful goodbyes become when you realize you’ll never say hello again.

How you never realize what you had until it’s gone.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine

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notveryglittery · 5 years ago

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birthday prince (3)

summary: virgil decides roman deserves a day off. words: 2,100 / ship: prinxiety (roman/virgil) author’s note: this is part three of my Giving The Gay Anything He Wants series for roman’s birthday (june 4)! all ships are written implied romantic but i’m not stopping you from interpreting it otherwise. check the end notes on ao3 for credit on these gifts (bc i don’t know where to put them in this post)! i hope you enjoy!!

part 1 (roceit) | part 2 (logince) | part 3 (prinxiety) part 4 (royality) | part 5 (dlampts) read on ao3

— — —

“Best two out of three.”

“I thought this was a birthday gift!”

“Yes and?”

“So why don’t I automatically get to pick the first movie?”

“Because I know you’re on a princess kick and full offense, if I have to deal with a talking animal as the comedic relief sidekick, I might actually die.”

“... Okay. Fine, okay, that’s fair.”

“On shoot.”

One, two, three, shoot — Virgil’s scissors versus Roman’s paper meant that the birthday boy did, in fact, not get to pick the first movie. He feigned upset for only a few moments longer before flopping back into their pillow fort. He supposed, given all the hard work Virgil had put into this, he could put up with one non-princess Disney film.

Earlier in the day, Virgil had rather unceremoniously kicked Roman out of his own room, claiming he had something important to do. Were it not for how close they’d grown, Roman would have been upset and suspicious; he trusted Virgil now, though, and knew that nothing would go wrong. He’d spent an hour playing cards with Logan and Patton before Virgil shouted for him from upstairs. When he’d arrived back to his room, it looked almost unrecognizable. It was mostly illuminated by fairy lights, providing a cozier feel than what he was used to; the floor to ceiling windows looked out into a rainy forest instead of the usual rolling hills; his bed had been turned into a truly impressive collection of blankets, pillows, cushions, and stuffed animals. The canopy had been removed which bothered him a little but only until he realized the projector that had been set up, pointing at the ceiling. There was a basket at the foot of the bed, filled with snacks and bottled drinks. Roman figured they could stay here for the next twenty four hours and be perfectly fine.

Surrounded by what was possibly every soft thing to be found in the Mindscape, Roman clutched Mrs. Fluffybottom to his chest as Virgil got the movie set up. She’d been his favorite plushie for the entirety of his existence; he’d taken her on many adventures over the years but she’d comforted him through a number of breakdowns too. He swore there was actually something magical about her.

Virgil threw himself down next to Roman; he had swapped out his usual hoodie for one that was fully dark purple and had even longer sleeves. After Roman had stopped gawking around his room, Virgil had tossed a sweater at him. It was so bright it was practically neon but it was rainbow print and he loved it. He’d immediately changed out of his t-shirt and had grabbed Virgil in a tight hug. Roman definitely intended on starting a sweater paw fight at some point during their movie marathon.

“You good with Hercules?”

“No comedic relief sidekicks, huh?”

“Phil is not a sidekick!”

“What? Are you trying to tell me right now that Philoctetes is a main character? You can’t say he isn’t comedic relief! He gets hurt just for laughs way too often!”

“No! I mean. Maybe?”

Roman laughed, bumping his shoulder against Virgil’s. “Whatever, you dork. Of course I’m good with it. You could have picked The Black Cauldron and I would’ve been good.”

“Talking animal. Comic relief. Sidekick. Gurgi checks all of those boxes. I would’ve been going against my own word.”

“Hmm, fair,” Roman said, humming a little.

As the Muses began singing them through the opening, Roman took a moment to appreciate everything Virgil was doing for him. The basket of goodies was stocked with every one of Roman’s favorite snacks, including enough chocolate to make him sick. In fact, it’d been the first thing he’d decided on, before Virgil could even tell him what the plan for the day was. Not that it was really much of a plan, anyway. Today specifically had been set aside just for Virgil to spoil Roman however he wanted. That apparently meant marathoning Disney movies, napping as much as they pleased, and eating all the junk food they wanted. It was a far cry from how Roman usually spent his time; what with all of the projects he was constantly juggling, or the content he had to help Thomas produce, or the issues to take care of in the Fantasy Realm. He didn’t really realize even how hard he was always working.

Apparently, however, Virgil had.

Something was shoved into his face, startling him out of his thoughts. He shot a glare at Virgil, who was watching the movie and acting totally inconspicuous. The item turned out to be a stuffed dragon, one he didn’t recognize from his usual pile of plushies. The scales were shimmery, a nice ombre of purple and blue shades, the wings were tucked against the body, and… Holding his hand against the stomach was warmer than the rest, as if it had a belly full of fire. That was so cool! He squeezed it tight in his arms and went back to watching the movie, feeling even comfier than before.

With the credits rolling, Virgil ushered them both out of bed and into a couple minutes of stretching.

“I’m not having you complain to me later on when your bones start creaking.”

“You make it sound like I’m so old, Virgil!”

“Older than me,” Virgil teased. He ducked out of the way of a thrown cushion. “Oh, is that what we’re doing?!”

Roman took a face full of pillow and suddenly it was on. He couldn’t begin to guess how long they fought for, darting around the room and over the bed, swinging their feather-filled weapons at each other. He did know that by the time he collapsed on the floor, he was breathless with laughter. Virgil was so far gone that he’d dissolved into alternating between wheezes and complete silence. Eventually, they did manage to get back into their nest of blankets, though there was plenty of shoving, poking, and tickling as they did so.

“I dunno if I’ll make it through this next movie so pick one that I won’t mind falling asleep during.”

“You besmirch the name of Disney if you think there’s a single film boring enough to allow that!”

“You dozed off the first time we watched The Good Dinosaur.”

Roman spluttered. “I had just come back from a week-long quest! And that’s Pixar!”

Virgil actually cackled. “You can’t pull that excuse! Disney owns Pixar!”

“Stop bullying me,” Roman cried, “it’s my birthday!”

“It’s two days before your birthday, actually, so I can bully you all I like.”

“I’m picking The Black Cauldron, then! See how you like dozing off during your favorite movie.”

It perhaps hadn’t been his best choice. With Virgil snuggled into his side, warm and soft, the sound of his even breathing accompanying the utter lack of any songs… Well, Roman really didn’t last much longer. They found each other in the Dreamscape. Edges were fuzzy, sounds were muffled, and touch was electric. The Dream Palace was a blurry shape in the distance, attracting his attention every so often when its crystal spires caught the light. Virgil sort of just appeared, as if created from the colors of the setting sun. Roman had a feeling he was made of the field of flowers he’d woken up in.

“I like it here,” Virgil said, sitting down next to Roman.

“Remy does a nice job with it,” Roman agreed, slowly picking daisies and dandelions to weave into a crown.

“You do, too,” Virgil argued. “You have a hand in almost everything, you know.”

Roman frowned at him. “I do not.”

“Yes, Ro,” Virgil insisted, “you do. The Memory Archives look the way that they do because you and Logan watched one episode of Doctor Who together and had the inspiration to redesign.”

Roman chuckled, a little nervously. “I guess.”

“Memory Lane doesn’t hurt Patton because it knows better than to hurt anyone you love. It might be connected to him and his room, but you’re the one that created that safety net.”

“Virgil…” Roman tried, voice slightly strangled.

“I just need you to know how important you are. You aren’t told enough.”

“It’s fine—”

“You’re important, Roman. You matter. You make a difference.”

Roman finally stopped trying to tie together the stems of the flowers. Virgil took his shaking hands into his own and held them tightly. It was just enough that Roman could actually feel it versus the tingly sensation that the Dreamscape normally worked with.

“We love you. We appreciate you and your hard work.”

If it weren’t for that everything around them was already blurry, Roman might not have noticed his vision swimming when tears filled his eyes. It was hard to not know suddenly that he was crying, though, regardless of how physically present he was in this space.

Virgil let go of his hands and instead, cradled his face gently. “I know I go against you sometimes but in the long run, I want you to be just as happy as you make the rest of us.”

He waited a moment longer before smiling and squishing Roman’s cheeks. Roman giggled a bit in response. Virgil gave him two careful pats before pulling away. Picking up the flower crown Roman had abandoned, he set to work on finishing it. Roman wiped his tears away and sat still in the sunshine, content to simply let himself soak it up until he was completely warm from the inside out.

When they woke, the screen projected onto the ceiling was displaying a screensaver of 3D pipes. The forest outside the windows had been replaced with a cliffside view of the ocean. Virgil stirred next to him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He absentmindedly pressed a kiss to Roman’s cheek before getting out of bed. He was gone for a little while, during which Roman found two more plushies that he didn’t recognize. They were a gryphon and a lion, both extremely soft to the touch, and with fierce expressions that reminded Roman of how Virgil looked when he was in fight mode. He wondered how these new stuffed animals kept sneaking into his collection but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

When Virgil returned, Roman burst into laughter, because yes, he supposed there was no chance of sneaking that one into the pile.

“There won’t be any room for me in bed, Virgil!”

“Guess you better get used to sleeping on the floor then,” Virgil said, dropping the massive Simba plushie on top of Roman.

This just made Roman laugh harder. The fabric on this one was fluffier than on the others, something he could sink his fingers into if he wanted. It was nearly as big as him, or maybe it just felt like that right now since it was smothering him. Before he could move it, though, Virgil sank himself down onto it as well.

“Virgil!!” Roman gasped between snickers. “Get off, you fiend!”

“Hmm…” Virgil hummed, pondering. From where he was laying, he could just barely look directly into Roman’s eyes. This made it all the funnier when he finally decided, in the most deadpan tone, “nah.”

After some wrestling, which led to them both falling out of bed and Roman bumping his elbow and howling for five minutes about his funny bone before Virgil kissed it better, they were finally settled back in to continue their movie marathon.

They watched Moana, Tarzan, and, Mary Poppins before sleep began to take them once more. Seeing as the sun had sunk below the sea quite some time ago, it was safe to assume it was late enough to call it a night.

“I got you…” Virgil paused to yawn. “Got you one more thing…”

“Vee—”

“‘S not much.” He held out Mrs. Fluffybottom for Roman to take. “I just… I made it so that she can never be hurt.”

For a moment, Roman’s lethargy was chased away by astonishment and surprise. He could feel the enchantment just from holding her, though it was passing by the second as the magic was fully absorbed.

“I know you… take her on adventures a lot. Fightin’ bad guys ‘n stuff.” Virgil shifted further into the blankets as sleep continued to take hold on him. “Wanna keep her safe. Know you will, anyway. But jus’ in case.”

Roman rolled onto his side so that he was facing Virgil. He kept the bunny plush tucked between them and took one of Virgil’s hands in his. “Thank you…”

“Love you. Happy birthday, princey,” Virgil told him, papping him once more on the cheek.

Sleep settled over them quickly after. Roman would wake in the morning, feeling more secure and warm than he had in quite some time, surrounded by plushies and Virgil’s arms, and know that he had so much to be grateful for.

#sanders sides fan fiction #prinxiety #prinxiety fan fiction #roman sanders #virgil sanders #gifts for roman's bday #dani writes

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gravelyhumerus · 4 years ago

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Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter 6

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

The team takes on trivia. Emily strips in front of JJ. It's quite an evening for all.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

“Come on, Jayje,” Penelope whined. “It’ll be good for you to go out.”

“I’m sick,” JJ said, fake coughing. “And I need to get a head start on my project for my new media course. It’s worth forty percent.”

“Bullshit.” Penelope said, “I know for a fact that that isn’t due for two weeks. Tonight is NOT the make or break point in that assignment for you.”

JJ sighed.

“You need to get out. See the world. Do more than just play soccer, work out and do homework. You’ve been hiding since your break up. It’s not healthy.”

She had told herself she would stop avoiding Emily after she had figured out what her feelings were. Despite JJ’s realization that it was a genuine crush, that JJ truly liked Emily, JJ needed to also be sure that she wasn’t simply rebounding onto someone nearby.

Someone pretty and smart and kind and who lived right across the hall.

“It’s trivia night JJ,” Penelope said, “and we have Spencer on our team it’ll be fun.”

JJ sighed, looked up from where she lay on her bed.

“Fine.”

“Make yourself pretty, you know who will be there,” Penelope replied, turning back to her make-up mirror to finish applying her purple lipstick.

“Yeah thanks for that,” JJ said sarcastically, “I saw what you did there.”

“Who, me?” she feigned innocence.

JJ changed from a plain t-shirt to a tighter, low cut long sleeved blue shirt. She then took her hair out of a ponytail, brushing it out before tucking it carefully behind her ears. On principle, she huffed the entire time, so that Penelope would know that she wasn’t happy about the situation, despite the butterflies in her stomach at the idea of seeing Emily again.

She took care to apply some eyeshadow, some blush and a pink lip gloss that tastes like strawberries. There was something intimidating about Emily. She looked so… put together. With Will, he never really noticed, or cared, if she wore makeup, but Emily definitely would.

God. This was stressful. Is this what liking girls was like? If it was, JJ was not sure she was cut out for it.

At least she was going to be on home territory, as trivia was their thing, something that Penelope and JJ had been doing since their floor was forced into going back in first year.

JJ was working hard at learning to relax a bit. Between maintaining her grades, soccer, and her new job editing press releases for the student government, she was already being pulled in multiple directions. A night out would be fun, she reminded herself.

She tried to quell her nerves at going out with Emily. It wasn’t a date or anything. Just friends hanging out. JJ’s friends and Emily’s friends. Penelope’s meddling was further tying her to the girl across the hall by blending their friend groups.

While half of her mind wanted this to happen, wanted to see Emily all the time and have an excuse to see her, smell her, hear her laugh…. JJ frowned as she realized that her crush complicated everything. Emily was already across the hall, and if she admitted her feelings, and they weren’t reciprocated, she would run into her all the time. Now, with Derek Morgan befriending Penelope and Spencer, and all of them going out together, JJ’s silly crush could send ripples across more than just her own life.

JJ ran her hands through her hair, worrying about the possible ways she could fuck this up. She did not entertain the possibility that Emily could possibly like her back. First of all, she had no idea if she was straight or not. JJ didn’t even know how to tell.

JJ glanced over to Penelope, who was finishing up her makeup sitting at her desk, looking into a small mirror on the desk. JJ knew Penelope was queer, as her roommate was not shy about it whatsoever. In her mug full of pens was a pride flag from last year’s pride parade. It was in June, so JJ had been back in Pennsylvania then, but she remembered seeing the joy on Penelope’s face in the photos she posted on Instagram. Penelope wasn’t the person she knew that identified as queer. In fact, Spence had recently told them that he was bi. It wasn’t like JJ was not aware of the community, she thought she was just supporting LGBT+ issues on principal, and for her friends.

She hadn’t considered that when, in her politics class in high school, she was viciously debating on gay marriage for someone like herself. The topics always felt distant. Like something that affected someone else. She was so certain in her heterosexuality that she had joked about it to Penelope earlier in their friendship.

The token straight friend, she had said. So much for that.

“Pen,” JJ said, trying to force a neutral tone to her voice, and failing. “How did you know you weren’t straight?”

Penelope turned and simply stared at her for a long moment before giggling and saying: “Are you finally realizing you have a crush on Emily Prentiss?”

JJ sat up in her chair.

“What?”

“Aw darlin’,” Penelope said to her, tilting her head, ”You barely talked about your break up. You were too busy literally running from your feelings for her ever since you ran into her at the library. I had to finally ask her out for you.”

“I–” JJ stuttered. “I talked about my break up.”

“So to answer your question,” Penelope said, matter-of-factly, “I realized when I had my first crush on a girl, just like you’re doing now. Don’t worry about it too much, you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

JJ’s jaw had dropped.

“Babe, you came home one night babbling about how she taught you French,” Penelope giggled, “You might as well have held up a sign.”

JJ buried her face in her hands.

“Oh god,” JJ said. “Am I gay? What am I?”

Penelope walked over and tossed her arm around JJ’s shoulders, pulling her into a hug.

“Aww baby’s first girl crush,” she cooed, “So happy to witness it first hand. You might be gay! Or bi, or something else. Don’t worry too much about the terminology right now.”

Unfortunately, JJ was worrying too much. About not just the terminology.

Even if Emily was gay, or bi or whatever, she wouldn’t like someone like JJ. She was always a bit of a tomboy, barely knowing how to do make up and dressing like she was going to practise most days. JJ always felt a bit awkward when she dressed up, feeling most at home in joggers and a hoodie.

Emily, on the other hand, was all elegant with her pretty black hair, her perfect eyeliner and the way she always looked out together when she went out. Moreover, Emily was cool. She listened to music on vinyl and her bookshelf was filled with classic novels and smoked cigarettes. She lived in multiple countries, spoke more languages than JJ hoped to ever learn.

Emily’s mom was an ambassador. She had a nanny growing up. She had a single room and was paying out-of-state tuition. Well, her mom was probably paying her tuition.

JJ could only afford to be here because she was on a soccer scholarship, and barely had enough money to cover her caffeine addiction. The surprise small stipend from her new student government job was probably the thing keeping JJ from applying for a job off campus.

Emily would never like someone like JJ, she thought.

After checking herself in the mirror one final time, she looked at the time. 6:54. Emily and her friends would be there soon, and if JJ knew Spencer well, he would be showing up in just under a minute.

There was a knock at the door. She was right.

“Hi guys!” He said, entering their dorm room and taking his customary seat on the very edge of JJ’s bed. “Am I dressed properly? I wasn’t sure what to wear to a bar.”

He was wearing a button up, with a beige sweater vest over top, with slacks and converse to complete the outfit.

“Aw Spence,” JJ said. “You look great, I promise.”

“Remind me to take you to the mall to get some party clothes,” Penelope quipped.

“Those were two contradicting statements,” he complained.

Once Penelope had finished adding rhinestones to her makeup look, they opened the door to find Emily flanked by two boys, waiting in the hall.

Derek Morgan, JJ recognized, but the other one JJ hadn’t met before.

“Hello all!” Penelope called out from inside their room.

“Hi Derek, Emily,” JJ said politely, “I’m not sure we’ve met–“

She reached her hand out to shake the new boy’s hand. He was tall, with a shock of black hair and a serious expression on his face.

“I’m Jennifer, but my friends call me JJ.”

“Nice to meet you,” the boy said with a small—almost non-existent—smile, shaking her hand with a firm, confident grip. “I’m Aaron Hotchner.”

“His friends call him Hotch,” Derek piped up punching his shoulder in a friendly way.

“He’s pre-law,” Emily informed her, “we have a bunch of classes together.”

“I do not have that much experience with trivia,” Aaron admits, rubbing his shoulder and feigning injury.

“No need!” Penelope says, rounding up on the group, “Spencer here is basically a genius. You’re just a warm body.”

“I just have an eidetic memory!” He said, piping up from in the room.

With introductions complete, they headed to the small pub just off campus. It was a squat brick building tucked between a restaurant and an old book store. It had a nice back patio in the warmer months, and each Monday was trivia night.

Just inside, the bouncer drew big xs on their hands to indicate that they were underage, which were all promptly wiped off once they were inside and found a table. The atmosphere inside was relaxed, the staff not really caring if people were drinking underage on a Monday night if they didn’t cause trouble.

JJ loved this bar. It was old, with exposed brick walls and large wooden rafters over their heads. The ceilings were low and the bar was packed and loud, making the place feel cozy, yet not quite claustrophobic. On weekdays, it was mostly locals or upper year students, as their peers were more likely to try to drink underage on the weekends. The crowd was quite a few younger adults, with the occasional older couple or group of middle aged women having a girls night.

They found a table big enough for their group by just to the right of the bar, tucked out of sight, far from the bouncers. The six of them squeezing tight onto the rustic booth and shrugging off their coats.

Trivia started at 7:30 pm, so they still had time to get settled and acquire some drinks. JJ was squished between Penelope and Emily’s friend Aaron, who was explaining that he played forward on the men’s hockey team. JJ knew he seemed familiar, realizing that she and he had probably crossed paths at athletics functions.

“Did you guys rub the marker off your hand?” Spencer asked, too loudly, receiving a chorus of shushing in response.

“Dude,” Derek laughed, “Not so loud you’re gonna get us kicked out!”

“What do you mean?” He asked, the classic Reid obliviousness shining through.

Emily tossed a casual arm around his shoulders.

“You see,” she said, “we would like to drink this thing called alcohol tonight. If we have an x on our hands, we don’t get served.”

She pointed to the x on his hand.

“Speaking of which,” Aaron said, standing up, “I’m grabbing a beer, who’s with me?”

“Me!” Emily jumped up, with Derek on her heels, “What are you guys drinking? This rounds on me!”

JJ balked, drinks here were expensive. Did Emily actually want to buy them drinks? Or was she simply being nice. JJ should say no.

“Vodka cran, por favour!” Penelope responded before JJ could politely decline. “JJ drinks beer, and Reid will take a soda.”

“What kind of beer?”

“Whatever’s on tap,” JJ said sheepishly, feeling guilty about someone spending money on her. At the same time, with JJ’s baby face, there was little chance the bartender would buy that she was already 21.

“Root beer please!” Spencer called out after her, though Emily had already turned around, following the boys over to lean against the bar.

The bartender, a gorgeous young woman with shoulder length brown hair was serving Emily, leaning over the bar. Her eyes were rapt with attention as Emily ordered, even giving her a once over before she left to make their drinks.

Emily seemed to flirt back, but JJ could not hear what she said, the two women going back and forth for a few moments, their attention hardly broken by the other patrons.

JJ felt jealousy flare in her stomach.

As Emily’s fingers grasped the glass, the other girl’s hands lingered, and JJ watched the bartender wink at Emily before turning towards the other patrons. Emily had a cropped tank top, with a plaid shirt on top. Her tight jeans gripped her long legs, and her heeled boots gave an extra inch or so to her already impressive height. She looked hot. The bartender clearly saw it too.

She tried to push back that jealousy. She had no right to be possessive, Emily and she weren’t dating, or anything, they were friends. New friends.

“Your girlfriend is so good to us!” Penelope cooed, breaking JJ out of her thoughts.

JJ felt a blush spread across her face.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” she sputtered.

“Have you told her you like her yet?” Spencer asked.

“Guys,” JJ exclaimed, “this is not the time. She’s right there.”

“She has not,” Penelope replied. “Even though it’s so obvious that Emily likes her back.”

“Pen!” JJ said as she buried her face in her hands.

“Spencer you wouldn’t believe it!” she continued, unheeded, “Emily brought her cookies to the game!”

“She was just being nice!” JJ said, peeking out from between her fingers.

“She didn’t give me any cookies,” Spencer pointed out. “And we spent almost three hours in class together.”

As he said that, Derek, Aaron and Emily returned with not only alcohol, but also nachos and fries for the table. JJ, too polite to protest when being offered food, and who had the appetite of an athlete, dug in. She took a guilty sip of her beer, and felt Emily’s eyes on her.

Did Emily like her back? That couldn’t be true. JJ was just… Jennifer. JJ. No one special. Not like Emily. JJ decided not to linger on that thought, it wasn’t like JJ would risk their friendship by admitting she had feelings anyways.

“You know,” Spencer said between mouthfuls, “I’ve never done trivia before, but I’ve been told I’d be good at it.

“No shit, kid,” Derek replied, talking through a mouthful of nachos, “You talk like a textbook.”

Spencer looked like he was unsure whether or not to take that as a compliment.

“What are the topics?” Emily asked.

“They don’t tell you until you get here,” Penelope replied, “Someone should be by with papers and pencils.

As if summoned, a tall girl with short black hair came by, dropping off a pencil and a paper, split into four quadrants with ten blanks on each page.

“Who wants to write?” JJ asked, looking around the table.

Hotch was busy scanning the page for the topics: science, television, sports and music, and he didn’t realize the activity going on around him. Everyone, including Reid somehow, (Derek helped him) had stuck their finger to the tip of their nose, the official sign for ‘not it.’

He looked up, seeing the fingers and without comment he grabed the pencil.

“It’s for the best,” Emily said, “My handwriting is illegible.”

“Can vouch for that,” Derek laughed, “It’s like half cursive half something inhuman.”

Emily punched his shoulder and took another drink.

“So how does this normally work?” Hotch asked, gesturing towards her paper with the pencil.

“Question, two minutes to write down your answer, no phones,” Penelope replied, “Then we swap with a nearby team to mark it! And so on for four rounds.”

“There’s prizes,” JJ added. “Whoever gets the most right in the end wins, we hand in the sheets to the MC to enter.”

“Sweet,” Derek said.

“We need a name,” JJ said, looking up.

“The twinkies,” Emily blurted.

“The… twinkies?” Hotch repeated, incredulously.

“I don’t know,” Emily muttered, “I panicked.”

The group burst into laughter, which Emily laughed along with. She was a good sport.

“Let’s get Quizzical,” Penelope offered.

“I don’t get it,” Spencer said.

“Quiz me, daddy,” Penelope tried again, winking at Derek.

“Settle down now, little lady,” Derek said, laughing.

“We’re not doing that,” JJ laughed.

She wasn’t sure who looked more horrified at the idea, Spencer or Hotch.

“Counter intelligence,” Derek proposed instead, it has a nice ring to it and works with the trivia premise.

“That’s funny,” Penelope said. “And seems ok for the prudish ones amongst us.”

Hotch wrote that down on their page.

“Hello everyone,” the MC said through a microphone as the music quieted, a hush fell over the bar, with everyone listening to the women speak. “My name is Tara and I’ll be your MC tonight.”

Tara was beautiful, with curled hair tucked behind her ears and a friendly smile, she was tall, wearing high heels making her stand tall over the seated audience. JJ thought she might be a student, as she looked a bit familiar.

“Hi Tara!” Someone yelled out from the other side of the bar.

Tara chucked, “Hello Dave. Welcome all to Trivia Night at O’Keefe’s, we have brand-new questions and prizes for you. Are you excited?”

The audience whooped, Hotch pulled the paper close to him and readied his writing hand, taking a quick swig of his beer to prepare himself.

“We’re going to start off with some science questions,” the MC said.

The group looked expectantly at Spencer, who looked slightly nervous.

“First question,” Tara announced, “We’ll start by looking outside of our planet, at the others in our solar system. Scientists have long been able to calculate the masses of most planets, including Earth. It has taken longer to measure the masses of Venus and Mercury, primarily because these two planets lack what?”

“Moons, obviously,” Spencer said, too loudly. Other groups clearly overheard, writing the answer down on their cards.

“Reid,” Penelope scolded, “You’re on our team. Whisper please.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, taking a sip of his soda through a small straw.

“Question two: of what material is a rhinoceros horn made?”

“Bone?” Derek whispered to them, “They look boney.”

“That’s actually a common misconception,” Reid replied, “They’re actually composed of keratin, which is essentially hair.”

“Huh,” Derek tilted his beer in acknowledgement. Hotch wrote that down.

“How many hearts do octopuses have?”

“Three!” Emily hisses, before Spencer has the chance.

“Nice one,” Hotch murmured back to her.

“I like cephalopods,” Emily said, as explanation.

JJ desperately wanted to comment on that, but the game moved too quickly.

The next few questions were rapid fire, covering everything from the speed of a sneeze, to the surface area of the lungs, to the oxygen in the atmosphere, to which letters from the alphabet were missing from the periodic table (the answer was J and Q.)

JJ perked up when she heard the last question: “What are people who study or collect butterflies called?”

“Lepidopterists!” She said, triumphantly before the MC even listed the options.

Everyone looked at her, surprised about her beating even Reid to the punch.

“I- uh,” JJ stammered, “I collected butterflies as a kid.”

JJ caught Emily smiling at that. She looked away, embarrassed.

Next was music, which, between Hotch and his impressive understanding of dad rock and Penelope’s encyclopedic knowledge of current pop music, and Derek’s well-rounded passion for all genres, they did fine. Reid pouted, as his eidetic memory doesn’t quite work for things he hasn’t read.

JJ, unfortunately, was not any help. JJ liked music, but she did not bother memorizing facts about writers or sampling or anything like that. She just liked listening to it.

After that was sports, and that topic went by quickly with JJ, Derek and Hotch answering the questions with a high degree of confidence.

Hotch, who was already writing aggressively and getting into it, wrote more and more excitedly, and on the second to last sports question—about the composition of a baseball—he snapped the lead off the pencil right off.

This caused sheer chaos.

With no writing utensil, one more answer to write down, they scrambled. JJ shrugged helplessly, typically known as the mom friend in her group, she felt bad that she had nothing to offer. After a moment, Penelope discovered a fluffy pink gel pen she found at the bottom of her purse.

“Is the ink pink, too?” Hotch asked, raising an eyebrow.

He tried writing. The ink was pink and sparkly.

“Yes, sir,” Penelope replied.

“Did you just call me ‘sir’?”

“I don’t know what came over me.”

During the brief intermission between Sports and Television, somehow the Salem witch trials came up in conversation. (It was actually because Penelope had mentioned the Blair Witch Project and Spencer misheard, but that’s neither here nor there).

“She was four?” JJ demanded, “That doesn’t seem right.”

“Oh I read about this,” Penelope said, “Dorothy something, she was accused of witchcraft alongside her mother.”

“Dorothy Good, also referred to as Dorcas Good, was only four years old when she was arrested in 1692. According to her accusers, she had allegedly bitten them on their arms. She was actually placed in jail and interrogated by Salem officials where they took the fact that she had a pet snake as proof that she was a witch, as the snake would serve the role of her animal familiar.”

“She was a child,” JJ said, horrified.

“Yup,” Spencer replied, unfazed. JJ frowned but continued writing.

The last one was television, which was very clearly Penelope’s favourite.

“Friends ended in May 2004 after how many seasons?”

“Oh I know that one,” Hotch said, “Seven.”

Hotch wrote that down in pink ink, the fuzzy pom-pom danced as he wrote.

“Amy Poehler, Rob Lowe and Chris Pratt worked together on which US comedy series?”

“Parks and Rec,” Penelope said, “Parks and Recreation, God, I should rewatch that. Such amazing girl-power vibes in that one.”

“What were the names of the two government agents played by David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson in the 1993-2002 series X-Files?”

“Special Agent Fox Mulder and Dr. Dana Scully,” Emily said with a smile.

“Wait, you too Prentiss?” Derek said. “Nerding out with Reid tonight.”

“Guilty as charged,” Emily said, “What can I say, I’m a sucker for Gillian Anderson.”

JJ’s mind stuck on that comment. Was she simply a fan of the acting? Or was she implying some sort of attraction to the actress. JJ did not ask. Her mind was wandering for too long, all while looking at Emily, that she missed the next question.

Whatever it was, Hotch was informing her that the answer was ‘72 survivors’.

Questions about Saturday Night Live, The Office, Scooby-Doo and a few old-timey shows that they didn’t recognize followed.

“The last question for the night!” Tara announced, “It’s been lovely being your MC for tonight. I hope you all had as much fun as I did. You ready?”

The crowd cheered.

“Ok this one’s for all the nerds out there: what sci-fi series premiered in 1966?”

“Star Trek: The Original Series,” Reid hissed, struggling to keep his voice down. “Which was the beginning of a franchise that has now lasted over fifty years, spanning nine television series, thirteen films and assorted shorts, video games and novels.”

“Ok Mr. Spock,” Emily laughed, “Thank you for your brain.”

“Spock’s Brain is actually one of the best episodes in the Original Series,” he replied, JJ couldn’t tell if he had made a joke or was simply spouting another fact.

As trivia wrapped up, and the scores were being tallied, the bar roared back to life, with music booming and the attendees milling about near the bar, back at the darts and grouping around the tables.

She found herself chatting with Hotch and Penelope, about some question they were unsure about, but her eyes were fixed on Emily and Derek. Derek had a hand in the small of Emily’s back, guiding her past the crowd near the bar.

JJ wondered if there was really something more there, despite Penelope’s encouragement of her crush on Emily. Maybe she was already into Derek? He was very affectionate with all of his friends, especially Penelope, so maybe it was nothing. But still, Emily seemed to be reciprocating.

But the hand didn’t leave, it held her close, almost protectively, something a boyfriend would do.

JJ turned away, pushing the thoughts away and slamming the last of her third beer, scanning for where Spencer had run off to after the game wrapped up. He was seated with two other people at a table near the back, talking excitedly at them while they looked at him with rapt attention. Out of curiosity, she wandered over.

Maybe she can hang out with Spence as she banished the strange feelings of jealousy burning in her chest.

“Return to tomorrow?” the girl asked Spencer, leaning over the table in excitement.

“Return to tomorrow, season two, production number fifty-one,” Reid replied, “An alien named Sargon takes over Kirk’s body while two others take over Spock and Dr. Mulhall.”

JJ frowned, she had no idea what he was talking about, but recognized that it seemed like the plot of an episode of Star Trek.

“Alien races appearing?”

“Trick question, a race is never identified. Sargon is a disembodied mind?”

“Dr. McCoy quote?”

He looked stumped for a moment.

“Five, four, three, two-”

“I will not peddle flesh, I’m a physician!” He concludes enthusiastically.

This all appeared to be an extension of his trivia game. JJ was happy that he was making friends, despite him worrying that he wouldn’t fit in at a bar, he seemed to have found his people.

JJ gave him an affectionate pat on his shoulder before passing, on her way to the dart board. With Reid occupied, Derek and Emily flirting at the bar and Hotch and Penelope hitting it off, JJ decided to show some random boys up.

It would make her feel better.

There was a pair already at the board, tossing the darts fairly inaccurately. JJ asked if she could join, batting her eyelashes in a way she knew would grab their attention quickly.

They immediately welcomed her in, handing her some darts. She hit the nineteen, twenty and dead centre in quick succession. The rush of the game kept away her earlier feelings of jealousy, centering her in the moment and her goal.

The boys were floored. JJ was good at darts.

She played three rounds, slamming them each time easily. Amateurs. They were drunk, aggressive with their throwing, all force no finesse. Typical men.

After the third round, they left for the bar, offering to grab her a drink to celebrate her win, she followed close by, knowing better than to leave a drink unattended, but also not passing up the opportunity to drink for free when it was a silly boy paying.

Maybe she should rebound after her break up and sleep with a random man. She looked at the man in front of her, he was tall, with dark hair and hazel eyes, wearing a tight fitting white shirt. His companion had sandy brown hair and dark eyes, but neither of them were stirring anything in JJ’s heart. Both were objectively attractive, but neither were the beautiful brunette that lived across the hall.

JJ accepted her drink graciously, knowing she had to fill another few minutes of small talk before it was appropriate for her to rejoin her friends.

The one boy was telling her about darts, in detail, despite the fact that she had informed him that she did know how to play, and had just beat him at the game.

“Can I steal JJ from you guys for a sec?” She felt a hand on her bicep and Emily’s sweet voice in her ear.

JJ turned and the taller girl was next to her, her hand resting lightly on her bare arm, feeling electricity where their skin touched.

“Uh, yeah,” the brown haired boy said, JJ didn’t remember his name, “Of course.”

JJ smiled apologetically before allowing herself to be led away.

“Thought you could use an out,” Emily whispered in her ear, “You looked bored.”

“Thank you,” JJ replied. “I was.”

They stopped further down the bar, standing close, with Emily looking down at her, their hips brushing each other. JJ could smell her perfume over the ambient smell of alcohol, bar food and the old building.

“Men,” Emily laughed, “Am I right?”

They laughed. JJ wasn’t sure exactly what she meant but she thought she got the gist. JJ gulped down a sip of her drink, a vodka soda that the boy had chosen for her.

“Speaking of, are you and Derek, uh,” JJ asked, nervously, “A thing?”

Emily’s eyes widened, and her lips tugged into a smile, she began to laugh.

“Derek Morgan?” She guffawed, “Absolutely not, that boy is like my brother. Oh my god, JJ you thought we were together?”

JJ felt herself sigh a breath of relief, hoping that it was not visible on her face.

“I just saw how he was at the bar,” JJ explained, “I just assumed.”

“Oh that,” Emily smiled, “I asked him to basically pretend to be my boyfriend, a beard if you will. Keeps guys hands from wandering.”

JJ frowned, that she could empathize with.

“But no, we’re very much just friends.”

JJ looked over to their table: Derek, Hotch and Penelope were currently playing a game that seemed to consist of tossing coins into Reid’s empty soda can.

There was a comfortable silence for a moment, both girls listened to the music, standing closely, closer than they needed to.

Emily ordered them another round, and by that point JJ had given up protesting, realizing that this is just what Emily did.

Grabbing their drinks, Emily handed JJ’s to her. They smiled and raised their glasses in cheers.

“To new and old friends,” Emily said, “and to us winning at trivia!”

“I can drink to that!”

Both accidentally raised their arms too enthusiastically, their glasses crashed together. Emily’s grip slipped and the glass went tumbling out of her hand, right onto JJ. She was suddenly damp and sticky, the liquid soaking through JJ’s thin shirt.

“Oh my god,” Emily gasped, “I’m so sorry.”

“Shit,” JJ gasped, putting her own drink down onto the bar and stepping back. “It’s ok, it was both of our faults.”

“Let’s get you to the bathroom,” Emily said, with a hand pressed to the small of her back, leading her away from the bar. As an afterthought, Emily grabbed JJ’s drink and carried it with them.

A few people gave her concerned glances, one patron offering her a small napkin that did basically nothing. JJ wasn’t mad, it was fully an accident, but now she was just desperate to dry off.

Now, JJ was acutely aware of Emily’s hand on her lower back. Warm and firm, it guided her into the bathroom.

As soon as the door shut, the silence made JJ’s ears ring. Emily had turned to the paper towel dispenser, yanking probably four feet of it off and bunching it up before handing it to JJ.

It was a small bathroom basically just the room, one sink and no hand dryer, much to JJ’s sadness.

JJ hoisted herself up onto the counter, taking the paper towel from Emily, patting her shirt hopelessly. The alcohol soaking into the cotton and leaving the shirt a noticeably darker blue. JJ sighed.

“I’m such a klutz,” Emily said apologetically. “My mom always was on my case for it.”

“It’s not your fault, Em,” JJ said, “it was an accident.”

Emily grabbed more paper towels, moving closer and helping her, patting on the shirt, over her stomach.

JJ held her breath, realizing that Emily was so close. JJ could look up, see Emily’s face, looking concentrated, with her perfect red lips right there. Her strong hands were carefully dabbing at her shirt, fussing over JJ in a way that made her heart skip a beat. Emily’s collarbones led down to her chest, visible with her low cut chest. JJ felt herself blush, looking up to the ceiling, feeling embarrassed at these thoughts.

JJ’s top hadn’t changed much, besides it feeling a bit less damp, it still showed the liquid clear as day.

“This is doing just about nothing,” JJ sighed, clearing her throat. “Maybe I should just go home. It’s getting late anyways.”

“Nonsense,” Emily said. “You can wear this.”

JJ’s jaw dropped as Emily shrugged her plaid shirt off her shoulders, revealing her tank top underneath and handed it to her. JJ took it, dumbly, closing her mouth but saying nothing.

Emily turned around, clicking the lock on the door, and leaning her shoulder against it, just in case. She took a sip out of JJ’s glass, casually, as if JJ was not about to take her shirt off behind her.

Emily’s back was to her, but JJ sat, frozen, holding this new shirt in her hand. JJ pulled her wet shirt off, very aware of being naked in front of Emily. Well, shirtless, with her white bra visible, but still feeling incredibly naked.

She quickly buttoned up the plaid shirt, it was oversized and a warm grey with hints of green and navy, feeling very incredibly soft.

Warm and dry, JJ felt the shirt envelop her in what felt like a hug. A hug from Emily.

JJ hopped off the counter and smoothed out her new shirt, Emily’s shirt. JJ folded up her wet shirt and held it in her left hand. The other girl turned and looked JJ up and down, with an unreadable expression on her face.

“You look good,” Emily commented.

“Thank you,” JJ managed.

They stared at each other, for a moment, the room filling with a tension that made her shiver. The music thumped from the other room, but JJ’s heartbeat was deafening. She had accidentally stripped a layer off of Emily, and desperately wanted to take more off of her. Emily’s black tank was riding up, revealing a small strip of her stomach above her high waisted jeans. Emily’s face was flushed from the alcohol, her pale skin becoming pink on her cheeks and nose. JJ thought back to that morning when she had caught Emily in her PJs, of what she knew was under her shirt. This too hugged her curves, revealing hints about what lay beneath.

“We better get back,” JJ found herself whispering.

The bathroom was small, so the two of them were packed together in the tiny space. Emily suddenly leaned forward, closing the distance between them, reaching her hands out towards JJ.

JJ’s heart raced, unsure what to expect. Was Emily going to kiss her? No. Why would she? Oh my god what if she was?

Emily’s hand carefully fixed her collar, tugging on it slightly.

“There,” Emily whispered, “you’re perfect.”

JJ closed her eyes at the feeling of Emily’s hands on her. Sighing slightly.

She chastised herself for being silly. Emily was just fixing her collar. Being a good friend.

“Let’s get back,” JJ said.

“If we have to,” Emily replied. JJ tried not to read into that too much.

They returned to their table, squeezing back in tightly with their overcrowded group of friends. They were in a heated debate about the Zodiac killer. Neither girl knew how the conversation got there, but Emily immediately joined the conversation.

After a few minutes, and after quite a few sly looks from Penelope, the MC tapped on the mic, gaining the audience's attention.

“We officially have a winner!” Tara announced, “With 36 points, it’s Counter Intelligence!”

Their table erupted in cheers. They had won! There were a flurry of high fives, hugs and fist bumps in their celebration.

Tara, the MC came over to their table to congratulate them. She told them that they had beat out the second place by one point.

“Impressive work everyone,” Tara said, “that’s close to a high score, and these were hard questions.”

“We have a great team,” Penelope said with a grin.

“I can tell,” Tara replied. “Are you all going to come back next week? It’s Halloween themed!”

They looked at each other, then nodded at her. It was a plan.

“See you then!” Tara said.

She gave them their prizes, which were mugs with the bars logo printed in white on the green mugs. She would treasure it.

JJ finds herself yawning, catching the eye of Emily, who said: “we better get JJ to bed, looks like she’s fading.”

Please, JJ thought sleepily, resting her drunk head on her hand, take me to bed.

Sitting down, JJ’s five or so drinks had hit her hard, and she dreaded standing up and risking stumbling. She was drunk. JJ wasn’t a light weight, but over their time at the bar, she had gotten quite a bit of alcohol into her system.

“Come on, sweetheart,” JJ could feel Penelope grab her arm and hoist her up. JJ leaned on her, feeling a warm affection for her friend in the moment.

Together, they walked home in the cold night air. Laughing, chatting and walking together amicably, all holding their prizes in hand. JJ leaned into Penelope’s side, feeling warm despite the chill of the air. Something felt incredibly right about that moment, those people.

She didn’t want it to end.

They went their separate ways from Hotch once they got to campus, bidding him farewell, not before Penelope added him to a group chat titled “The Team 🕺” in reference to their trivia playing. Hotch promised he’d join them all again next week.

Once they climbed the stairs to their floor, Reid continued up to his room and the four of them found themselves trying to quietly return to their rooms without getting caught by the RA.

Despite being served for the entire night, if they got caught drinking underage they would get in a lot of shit, especially Derek and JJ on their athletic scholarships.

Muffled whispers and giggling filled the air as they walked through the common room.

Derek hugged them all goodbye—he seemed to be a hugger JJ surmised—and went to his room down the hall.

“Oh!” JJ said, spinning to face Emily in the hall. Penelope had already entered their dorm, with the door closing behind her. “I can give your shirt back tomorrow! I can… er… wash it for you. It probably smells like beer now.”

Emily gazed at her, from over her shoulder as she unlocked her door, looking JJ up and down.

“Keep it,” she said. “It looks good on you.”

JJ would swear she saw Emily wink at her, but couldn’t be sure.

Emily disappeared into her dorm room, and JJ went into hers.

She slept with the shirt folded neatly next to her pillow, the smell of Emily’s perfume filling her senses as she dreamt.

#criminal minds #criminal minds tv #jemily #gravelyhumerus cm college au #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #cm #prentiss x jj #jennifer jareau #fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #FINALLY HAVE AN UPDATE FOR YOU #its almost 7k #enjoy :)#my post

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coeurdastronaute · 4 years ago

Text

The Story, Ch. 2

Previously on The Story

June was hot, thick with stagnant heat that refused to rustle or move the tiniest branch of a tree nor leaf on a stem. Hotter than any other summer that she could remember, Jamie toiled daily on her garden and the grounds, lugging water to and fro, nurturing the seedlings in the greenhouse, fretting over the last bits of her bountiful spring bloom and hoping to survive until the first cooling summer storm. It was tough work, all-encompassing work, and she’d learned a little late in her life, how important it was to keep busy.

Never one to understand or listen to the story beneath the sound, Jamie missed the subtle changes that had undertaken the manor. Too preoccupied and exhausted from her battle with the sun and the dirt and the grounds itself, she hadn’t given another thought to how often her glances looked back toward the house, nor did she think twice about how she migrated around her duties, following the laughter of the children closer than ever before. Unaware of so much of her movements, her head stuck in the dirt and her hands tangled in the safety of the roots, Jamie was somewhat aware of the fact that she had not spoken, at least not directly or alone, with the au pair since their very first conversation. That was done with such purpose that she spent a large portion of the day willing it to both happen and un-happen.

But things changed in their sullen existence. Homemade decorations littered the stairs and railings while entire science experiments meant trousers rolled up to ankles and wading in the fountain. The curriculum changed with the feeling of the day, and when school was over, the children were happy to take to learning the finer points of housework, turned into games by the crafty au pair who understood how important such things were. Slowly, the gravity fo the grounds shifted from the chaotic mess left behind with such glaring absences.

Like all features at Bly, Jamie knew that the au pair was a novelty and would soon become not unlike the furniture or the statues. She would become innate to the property, just as Owen and Hannah and herself had, she would be usual and familiar and it would pass, Jamie promised herself, unpracticed in physics as she was.

But the addition of the au pair had changed the manor, and in part, had changed many of those left within its universe. Where before there was cold and silence in the absence of the parents of the orphaned children, now nights brimmed with laughter and games, where plays were acted out by the entire cast, and learning was hands on, often out of the classroom and with the help of the rest of the staff. There was this community that popped up, a kinship among those who remained, all loosely tied together by the newest addition.

It was all so sorely needed after the last au pair and the exceeding tragedy that plagued the beautiful land.

It was hard not to want to be part of the liveliness of the manor now. Jamie found herself peaking over hedges to find the au pair reading books as the children drifted and lazed in the grass, and she too, listened to the words and gentle voice, her trimming slowing as a result. And clearly the children were taken with Dani, with Flora becoming much like a shadow, following her about, weaving her dolls and flowers for her hair. Miles became less despondent, though not enough for the au pair’s opinion. Still prone to their bouts of melancholy, it felt as if they returned to being children again sometimes.

Unlike before, Jamie didn’t leave without stopping into the house to see if she might get accidently pulled into an adventure. Before, she would leave without much more than a honk or a wave. But the heat made her shoes stick to the grounds that much more despite the growing exhaustion.

There was something about staying that made Jamie uneasy. It wasn’t in her composition to remain and attach.

“It has to break soon,” Jamie sighed to herself as she pressed a sweating glass against her neck. The chill lasted a moment and that was all, gone in an instant.

“I’ve got ever window open in the house and there hasn’t been so much as a breeze in a week,” Hannah shook her head and continued the slow, gentle fanning of herself.

The ice adjusted, breaking apart and clinking in a glass.

“There’s not much more I can do to save the lawn on the south side. It’s getting burnt. It’ll take ages for it to bounce back if we that rain doesn’t hurry.”

“But the produce has been otherworldly,” Owen offered happily. “What you’ve been harvesting has blown my mind. I haven’t seen such bounty. At least I could never manage it.”

“I don’t know if it’s saying much then if that’s the comparison.”

“Laugh at my expense, but it’s true. I’ll gladly trade the lawn for those carrots.”

“What about you, Hannah, eh? An afternoon of rain or larger heads of cauliflower?”

“I get more than enough veg, thank you. Owen, you’re looney if you think a breeze isn’t worth every pea in her garden.”

“I never claimed to be any different,” he grinned before taking a sip of his drink.

The patio hummed with the crickets and heat so that even their words were too much hot air, and perhaps unwelcomed in the perfect summer evening. It was late, well after sundown, and yet the employees earned a certain run of the place as their own home after dark, when the semblance of adults could be disbanded.

The two prattled back and forth, much to Jamie’s amusement. The absurdity of how blind they both were, or perhaps Hannah’s staunch refusal for no reason at all didn’t much make sense to the gardener. It wouldn’t be right for someone like Hannah to refuse happiness-- someone who deserved it so completely. Jamie couldn’t understand that choice.

“There she is, welcome, welcome,” Owen greeted the au pair as she made her way onto the patio.

The light from inside glowed against her, and Jamie could see the sweat on her neck and the wet ends of her hair that escaped an incredibly high and incredibly tight pony tail. She smiled into her drink at just the thought of it.

“Still having trouble getting to sleep are they?” Hannah asked as Dani took a seat at the small table of friends. “The heat isn’t kind to them.”

“Thank you,” she nodded and took a heavy gulp before she winced at the alcohol content she hadn’t been expecting. “They are just so uncomfortable. I don’t even know what to do.”

“Put them outside,” Jamie offered before three faced turned towards hers. “What? You’ve never slept outside before?”

Two of the three shook their heads, while Owen perked up excitedly.

“We’ll sort them out tomorrow, don’t worry, Poppins.”

“I’m willing to try anything at this point. You should have seen Miles’ face when I told him to just sleep in his underwear.”

There was laughter among the group, and across the table, Jamie watched the au pair more curiously than she ever had before. In the faint glow of the evening, she shamelessly stared, observing the interactions, slunk back in her chair and disinterested with much else.

There’s always been a distance to them that the few feet that separated them now seemed too little, and such an easy stretch to cross. The gardener had seen the au pair in the yard with the children, running and climbing and playing in the sun, her blonde hair whipping around in a swirl as she moved quickly. The gardener had seen the au pair on the terrace, reading in the shade in those damned shorts and her pale skin practically glowing. They shared meals together, but always at polar ends, directly missing each other.

But never had the gardener so unabashedly stared at the newest addition to the trio, or rather the finishing piece of their quartet. She chalked it up to curiosity, because never before had she been so close to an American with a smile like that, or rather, never before had she been close to a smile like that or an American.

Even when Dani met her glance, Jamie didn’t look away, but rather wondered more about the stranger before her.

“I thought I was escaping the heat,” Dani shook her head as the company drew toward the end of their drinks. “This is worse than I could have imagined.”

“It’ll break soon,” Jamie repeated with a bit more assurance.

“You can’t listen to Jamie’s superstitions,” Hannah shook her head. “She thinks her flowers whisper to her.”

“That sounds a bit mental. I’d never say that. But it is going to break. You can feel it.”

“I never would have thought to accuse you of reckless hope,” Owen teased.

“And you never should,” Jamie said as she stood, finishing her drink. “But the trees are dry and the creeks are hard. It’ll break because it always does.”

“Got a timeline on that?” Dani asked, looking up at the body in the dark.

“Sadly, I don’t,” she sighed. “But I believe in the rain.”

As Hannah and Owen debated the weather and belief, the gardener smiled at Dani and nodded her good night.

“I’ll see you lot tomorrow. I reckon it might be time for a camp out.”

Dani smiled, cradling the glass to her neck and cheek. Jamie didn’t look away. The worst of it was, she hadn’t seemed to decide on anything at all. Her mouth just moved and now she was stuck.

XXXXXXXXXX

“It doesn’t seem safe,” Miles complained as he helped lug an armful of bedding.

“It’s perfectly safe. It’s not like you have to worry about anyone walking around the property,” Dani promised. “It’s just like being at a campground or in the middle of the woods, except much closer to the bathroom.”

“We’ve never been properly camping before,” Flora announced. “We did sleep in the living room a few times, and tell stories, and drank cocoa.”

“Well camping is supposed to be fun.”

“Supposed to be?”

“I’ve never gone either,” she shrugged, wiping the sweat from her brow. “But I’ll do anything to avoid the heat.”

“It’s the same temperature outside as inside,” the little boy reminded the group as he tossed his pillow down on one of the carefully placed bedrolls, foraged from the deepest recesses of the garage attic.

“It’ll chill come evening,” the au pair promised. “I never thought you’d be afraid of a little adventure.”

“I don’t mind adventure, but I mind the mosquitos.”

“We’ll take care of that, don’t worry.”

“It’s absolutely splendid, isn’t it, Ms. Clayton?” Flora brimmed as she spun around the camp on the back lawn.

With a surprising show inf ingenuity, it was true that the gardener with help from the chef, had transformed a spot beneath the hornbeam trees into a safari. The fire was already crackling to life as the children finished their last load of blankets, the beds were pallets and the chairs were from the patio, but the true gift was the open-faced tent, hung between a few branches of the wide tree so that the open wall faced the fire and the house.

“It’s better than I could have imagined,” Dani agreed, smiling as she surveyed the set up until she found the person responsible and softened. “It looks amazing.”

When Jamie made the suggestion, the au pair hadn’t really considered it happening, but when she showed up the following day ready to do it, enlisting Owen and even Hannah in some ways, Dani didn’t think twice about joining the event.

“Just a bit of ingenuity and fierce, god-like strength,” Jamie winked, flexing a bit before grinning. “And Owen.”

“It’s nothing,” the chef promised as he checked the sturdiness of his work. “I was a Scout Explorer. Fifteen years worth of survival and outdoor training with a healthy dose of community service.”

“And what was your reason for being so outdoorsy?” Dani turned to Jamie as she teased Miles’ shoulder, making him look.

“Oh, I was raised by wolves,” Jamie explained, quite seriously, earning a look from the smallest of the party. “True story. Walked on all fours until I was older than you, Flora. Used to be able to talk to them, but it’s been so long.”

“That didn’t happen,” Miles shook his head.

“If you ever run into a pack of wolves, just say you know me.”

He rolled his eyes but thought it over to himself as Dani accepted a drink from Hannah and took a seat, the hard work of setting up complete and the night working its way to them.

It might have been psychological, or it might have been the fire, but the evening did seem to get cooler. It wasn’t a blustery winter by any means, but it felt tenable for the first time in too many days.

For Dani, the best kind of moments were when the children were just that, giggly and smiling, living loudly and with exteriority. When Miles would flash a smile, absolutely smitten with everything Owen was telling him about knots and pocket knives and his own adventures in the woods as a boy. When Flora would lean against the side of the au pair’s leg and pat her knee excitedly as she had to get close to speak so quickly about how important it was to not burn the marshmallows. She could love them better, she believed. It didn’t seem an impossible task sometimes.

For a second, she also lost herself in the magic of the evening. As Flora and Miles chased lightning bugs through the field, exhausting themselves after dinner, and Dani found herself in the company of who were quickly becoming what she might refer to as friends. The three caretakers of the manor and its inhabitants, slightly more willing to stay later for a moment like this as well.

Three s’mores and four stories later, the late hour did it’s best to win out over the young campers. Huddled around the fire, they covered up and listened attentively as the gardener wove a wild story. Dani sat across, her legs stretched out and feet near the fire while Hannah held a bottle tightly beside her before carefully re-filling their cups.

“I almost hate to admit what a good idea this is,” Hannah chuckled before re-corking their bottle as she sat it on the ground. “But they certainly are enjoying themselves.”

“It means a lot to them, for you all to be here and so interested. They don’t know it yet, but they will one day,” Dani nodded, looking over the flickering flames as Miles adjusted, pulling up the blanket, completely engrossed in the story.

“I couldn’t be anywhere else. I’ve been with this family for… goodness, it’s been my whole life it seems.”

“Still, you chose to stay. That means something.”

“I’m not sure what, exactly,” the housekeeper sighed.

“Love. Loyalty.”

Dani watched a small smile creep into Hannah’s cheeks as she stared at the gardener, but didn’t hear a thing, so deep in thought was the housekeeper suddenly that she disappeared, or so it seemed.

Jamie kept talking though, her story winding its way this way and that, hoping to be long enough to tire out the children. Her voice was growing lower to persuade them, and in just a few minutes, Flora fell asleep, her cheek pressed against the gardener’s chest, a blanket wrapped over them both. Dani wasn’t sure when she began to smile at the scene, only that she was and Hannah watched her take a drink to hide it.

“The night we found out about the Wingraves, she spent the entire evening playing with them. When I got the call, I didn’t know how to say it, so we waited for their uncle to come tell them, and I remember Jamie watching them run up and down the stairs, playing some made up game that we couldn’t understand. And she was the one who made us wait. Let them be kids who have parents for just another hour, she told me. Another hour.”

Miles stretched slightly, his arm dipping until his head was on the pillow.

“I’m sorry for the loss,” Dani offered as Hannah looked away from a sleeping Flora.

“They’re adapting. Somehow.”

“You all are helping, you know that, don’t you?”

“Sometimes I’m not sure, but then I look at that,” Hannah nudged her chin at the sleeping children, at Jamie not bothering to move Flora, but holding her tight. “And I know that even in the most inopportune environment, even something kind and loyal and loving can emerge, whether they know it or not.”

“What happened?”

“She ended up here somehow,” she sighed and took another drink before standing. “Let me help you, dear. Don’t want to wake her after finally getting her to sleep.”

Dani didn’t move as she watched the careful task of detaching Flora and tucking her in safely, all in hopes of not having to tell another story to put her back to sleep. The au pair watched Jamie’s movements with a keener eye. She traced the outline of her jaw and cheeks, saw neck and clavicle when the flannel she’d brought slipped down a shoulder with the movements, as if something, some tick, could explain everything that seemed to be an impenetrable fort.

“And with that, I’ve had enough nature,” Hannah decided. “I’m going inside to my bed.”

“Booooo,” the other adults teased.

“I’m too old for sleeping in the dirt, and so are you lot. We’ll see who is in better shape in the morning.”

“I’ll, uh,” Owen stood, patting off his pants. “I’ll walk you in. Grab some more water for us.”

“I know the way.”

“Good, you can help me find the kitchen.”

With a wave, they moved back toward the house, their lanterns swinging as they reached the door. Across from her, Jamie took to a chair, electing to stretch after sitting on the hard ground and beneath another human, tiny as she was, for so long.

“I swear my arse went flat sitting there all night,” she mumbled, picking up the bottle Hannah had left behind. “Gardener by day, lawn chair by night.”

“I don’t think I’m as good with flowers as you are with them.”

“No worries about me pilfering your job, Poppins. I find them exhausting and they are quite taken with you.”

There was a fondness hidden beneath the feigned annoyance as Jamie surveyed their sleeping forms, resting comfortably with the fire flickering light into the tent.

“They like you.”

“What’s not to like? I’m quite a stirring specimen. And I make a damn fine s’more.”

Dani couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she stood and meandered toward a chair, the stiffness that Hannah warned about nestling into her joints until she was certain she’d be locked in the seated position forever.

“You’re not going to abandon me out here with them are you?”

To her credit, Jamie considered it before tossing a lopsided smile toward the au pair who joined her.

“It was my idea to sleep outside, wasn’t it? Can’t miss this. Plus,” she paused to finish her glass of whiskey. “I’ve been drinking. Not too safe to drive.”

“I feel like I should thank you again for all of this. It’s… it’s amazing.”

The stars were bright, unburdened with any rules of order, scattered throughout to the horizon and tree tops. The fire glowed but did not dim them at all, merely enhanced by attempting to add its own embers into the heavens, offering the sacrifice for permanent consideration, though none made it that far.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t doing anything else. I’ve had worse nights than a campfire and half-decent company.”

“I’ll take half-decent.”

“Oh, yeah… uh, I was talking about them,” Jame furrowed as she looked toward the sleeping children. “Juries still out on you.”

“I’ve been known to be a good time,” Dani promised.

Despite the teasing, Jame tilted her chin to appraise the au pair in the firelight, as if trying to discern if the statement was actually true. She cocked her head to the side as Dani readjusted, becoming oddly self-conscious of the look. A little nervous, she sipped her drink and winced against the burn.

“I might be inclined to believe you, except you ended up here, same as us, and I’m not sure anyone here knows how to be a good time.”

“I don’t know. You put all of this together.”

“A rare flash of brilliance,” Jamie shrugged. “We’ve been dying to know what brought you here, you know?”

“I’m that interesting?”

“New, maybe. Interesting is to be determined.”

Dani smiled into her cup, her body constricting tightly into itself as she was forced to think about things she’d hoped to forget.

“But you don’t have to share,” Jamie added quickly, feeling the shift in the mood of the night. It was far too lovely out and the au pair was far too pretty sitting there, politely looking for a way out. “Doesn’t matter how, just that you got here. In my experience, it’s a bit of ill-fate that brings anyone here. Hannah and the cheating husband. Owen and the sick mother.”

“You, and the love of plants?”

“Yeah,” she grunted. “Me and my curse for growing things.”

Jame ran her thumb along her cup before turning back to the au pair beside her. She wasn’t fond, suddenly, of upsetting her, and she didn’t want the conversation to end because unlike most others, she was incredibly invested in simply hearing Dani’s voice.

“And me,” Dani decided, stiffening her spine a little with a deep breath, “Running away from everything back home because I just…” she looked at Jamie, willing her to understand how cowardly and weak she felt. “Couldn’t handle the pain anymore.”

Her glance was strong, was inquisitive and kind, and Dani looked away from the warmth it offered.

“You don’t have to run anymore. And you don’t have to have anymore pain.”

It was an oddly comforting option and perhaps promise, Dani realized, one that she knew Jamie was in no place to give, but still she did, and for the first time, despite all of the people at the funeral and the hospital and in her life who let her off the hook, or at least thought they did, she felt as if she might be able to finally do it.

Jamie’s hand was warm in her knee where it gave a squeeze, but did not let go, resting there as the gardener moved her head, twisting to be in the au pair’s view. Dani looked at her and couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“I know you’re not alright. That’s okay, too. You don’t have to be yet.”

Simultaneously, the weight grew and shrunk on her chest, but Dani relaxed at the feeling of it all.

“I’m around, you know? Not really the best at talking, but I’ve got ears that occasionally work.” Dani couldn’t help but chuckle. “There it is, Poppins. No sense in having a pretty girl upset. It’s probably the greatest sin around.”

“The greatest?” she scoffed, clearing her throat as the hand on her knee was retracted.

“I haven’t been to church in a while,” Jamie confessed.

“I couldn’t tell.”

“That’s what happens when you’re raised by wolves.”

Once again, she filled up the cups, and Dani felt the gardener relax slightly beside her. She found herself envious of the apparent ease with which she moved through life.

“I almost believe you.”

There was another grin, lopsided and knowing. It was oddly frustrating, to feel so bare and understood by someone who was unreadable, but Dani challenged her before taking a drink.

“Wolves don’t have to howl in the night and live in the forests or have fangs and claws.” Jamie paused and swirled around her drink. She looked up to see the lantern of their third returning. “Sometimes they wear suits and work at the bank or a department store, and they find a weakling and they do what wolves do. Suit or fangs, there isn’t much difference. I was raised by wolves.”

Dani didn’t register Owen’s return. She looked at Jamie who refused to look at her, but rather smiled as the chef sat down, prepared to tease him incredibly for his display with the housekeeper. But the au pair was struck with the first thickly veiled, but honest moment she might have ever had with the stranger beside her. She wanted more. She wanted to press and learn what it all meant, not the story, not the tale of it, the fiction and flowers and metaphors. But she found it was enough for the moment.

“I found out why Poppins is at the Manor,” Jamie announced proudly as she tossed Owen the bottle. “She robbed a bunch of banks.”

“I think she might be pulling your leg,” he shook his head. “Doesn’t seem the type to care about money.”

“She did it for the thrill. She’s mad. Hide the silver.”

“Don’t tell people that,” Dani scolded, hitting Jamie’s arm. “I’m just a teacher.”

“A notoriously underpaid lot. She definitely did it for the money. Owed huge gambling debts. I don’t know what to tell you, Owen,” Jamie shrugged. “That’s the truth.”

“Please don’t believe her.”

“I hardly ever do,” he promised.

57 notes · View notes

cherry3point14 · 5 years ago

Text

The Wrong Winchester - One Year Later

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam x Eileen Warnings: Cavity protection required. Word Count: 12,304. (WHY) Summary: One year after the fiasco that was Fourth of July, you’re back in Kansas and back at the Winchesters. This time with their other son. A/N: A sequel for the trope fluff fest that was The Wrong Winchester. Somehow this is fluffier and more trope-y! Listen, I didn’t say it was good, just that it exists. Happy 4th July my bitches! (*sobs in the corner* this was supposed to be a timestamp)

Ao3 if you prefer.

June has been cool this year, more so than normal, but then the heat of July hits like clockwork. Even though you enjoy airplanes, and the AC they provide, you’ve done the drive because Dean hates flying. It’s not even a compromise because the detour your journey takes means that it’s Thursday evening by the time you arrive in Lawrence. Sam and Eileen got there mid-morning. You’re hoping that the Winchesters are so distracted getting to know her that you can slip in like an old piece of furniture, unnoticed and ignored.

It’s when he turns the corner onto their street, and the family home looms in the distance, that it hits you. You’re here, again, and you’re doing this, again. And nobody would ever believe it but this is considerably worse because this time you love the guy sitting next to you.

Not that you’ve told him that yet. It’s been a slow year.

Loving Dean does complicate things though. It means that you care what the Winchesters think of you. Last year, pretending, was a walk in the park in comparison. You knew Sam was fake breaking up with you after you left. You could have cheated on Sam in front of him and it wouldn’t have mattered because it was all, well, fake.

Although you did kind of cheat on Sam in front of him. Boy, did you hope Sam hadn’t told them about that.

Now, the house you’re pulling up at makes your toes curl inside your shoes while hurried excuses start pouring out. “You’re positive you don’t want to stay in a hotel? Take the pressure off your mom having to entertain us and Sam and Eileen. That’s a lot of guests.” You nod to yourself convincingly while you stare at the front door.

He smiles at you like you’re adorable, which you don’t appreciate. “If you’re looking to make her hate you, then yeah, go ahead and tell my Mom you’re taking her firstborn to a hotel for the weekend.”

You huff and pout your lips so he knows exactly how frustrated you are, “I know you’re right, doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

“When are you ever?” He counters, smirking as he gets out of the car. You follow suit although you’re convinced that as your foot hits the stone driveway you can hear the ticking of a countdown. One small step for you, one giant leap to your doom.

Dean grabs your case and his duffel from the trunk, settling one on top of the other so that he has a free hand to wrap around your waist. It’s probably a picturesque image, him walking you to the house like that. You’re not sure if he’s being nice or making sure you don’t run away. Dean’s a smart man so it’s probably a little of both.

His hand reaches to open the door but even after the long drive from Chicago, your reactions are lightning-fast. You pull his arm back to stop him and answer the silent look on his dumb face, “shut up. We should knock.”

“Did you give Sammy this much trouble last year?”

His joke drags a smile out of you, not a laugh but a smile. He’s been trying to calm you down the whole journey. You don’t get nervous often, so seeing you this anxious has both worried and amused him. He’s settled for being supportive, he’s done everything he can to take your mind off of this moment. He told you exaggerated fake facts about Kansas to stop you complaining that the entire state was too damn hot. He distracted you with questions about the case you’re working on when you panicked about exactly how Sam had explained everything all those months ago. And most importantly he fed you. A few hours out he’d pulled into a drive-through and minutes later you’d found yourself pulled over on a random stretch of highway, legs crossed, and a brown paper bag in your lap. He’d wiped sauce from the corner of your mouth and watched you wolf down cheese fries.

Dean knew how to keep you happy for the hours you’ve spent in Baby. But now that you’re finally standing at the threshold he, apparently, thinks it’s time to throw you to the wolves, which he does, literally.

In one swift movement, the door is open before you can rap your knuckles against it and he uses his arm—the one that’s around your waist—to guide you inside. Except guiding you inside is more like a gentle push, which means you trip your way into the Winchester family home while Dean remains safely on the porch.

“What the f-?” The end of your sentence never makes it past your lips, thankfully, considering the gathering in the living room as you turn your head.

Sam and Eileen are sitting opposite Mary and John, all of them holding a drink, clearly mid-conversation. They all stop. Four pairs of eyes are now trained on you. Even after a too-long second has passed none of them move as if your presence has frozen them in time. A perpetual state of being horrified by your existence.

“Dean!?” You don’t exactly shout but there’s a worried twang to your voice and still, none of them move. In fact, Sam doesn’t even attempt to help, which is a betrayal you won’t allow to pass unpunished or forgotten.

That’s for another day. Right now you’re about thirty seconds away from your first actual panic attack in years.

Dean slips in behind you, eventually. Even walking in with the bags he’s more graceful than you had been stumbling in. Not that you compliment him on that. You’re too preoccupied because you might have broken the Winchesters.

“Honey!” Mary beams with happiness at the sight of her eldest son and jumps up from her seat like a mannequin come to life. Whatever spell had been cast breaks so quickly that it might not have happened at all. Every single person takes a breath again and Mary walks over, wine forgotten on the coffee table, to hug Dean the way you’d seen her do a year ago.

“Mom!” He hugs her back, wrapping her up in his arms and lifting her from the floor an inch or two. You want to say he’s the cutest thing ever with that childlike smile on his face.

That’s what you want to say.

Unfortunately, the innocence doesn’t last as his expression morphs into a cocky smirk with a waving hand in your direction once he lets his mother go. “You remember Y/N, right?”

Is he freaking kidding?

Mary’s face steels, as if Dean had never entered the room. Your best friend and his girlfriend, who you know pretty well at this point, remain safely in their seats. And your boyfriend, your goddamn boyfriend who you love and trust, is standing there at an arm's length like this is an early fireworks display. The fuses have been lit and he is waiting for the explosives to go off.

The only person in the room who dares to make eye contact with you—outside of the matriarch—is John freaking Winchester. And he has the audacity to smile sweetly at you. Or as sweetly as John Winchester is capable of.

“Of course I remember Y/N.” Mary’s words are friendly but her tone does not mirror the sentiment. She taps her chin with one extended finger, thinking, “you were on Sam’s arm last year, if I remember rightly.”

You were going to murder Sam and thanks to your job you’d get away with it too. “I’m so sorry Mary, Sam told me he explained. It was all a misunderstanding, I was only…”

“Only jumping around between my boys? Or was the misunderstanding when we welcomed you into our home and you lied to us?”

You may have met your match. You could never admit this to the district attorney's office but Mary has found a way to silence you with a stare. Your lips snap shut without a good answer for her. You feel like a child being chastised for making a mess.

In fairness you had made a mess last year, however, you cleaned it up afterward.

Your eyes dart to the still-open front door before you rummage up an answer. “I don’t think jumping between them is very fair, Sam and I weren’t a real thing. I mean we’re still besties, even if he won’t call us that, but we were pretending. Which is still wrong but I defy any of you to say no to him when he does that dopey puppy face of his. Anyway I know he told you it was his idea, because it was, and I made sure he told you that because I don’t want you thinking that I came up with it and…”

“Great, you got her stuck in a loop, Mom.” Dean grumbles with a roll of his eyes.

“What?” You interrupt your own rambling to frown at him.

That’s when it happens. Mary breaks out into a grin so similar to Dean's that it’s frightening. If Sam got his smile from his mother then Dean inherited her devious smirk.

“It was your idea.” She answers your seemingly caring boyfriend.

You’re confused, as you should be. Hours. Days. Weeks of dreading this moment and this weekend. None of this makes any sense.

“I hate to sound like a broken record but, what?”

Mary turns her brightness on you, in the distance, John barks out a laugh and cracks his hand against his thigh as if this all went completely as planned.

“I’m sorry Y/N. We were only playing. It’s great to see you again.”

Then she hugs you, stiff as you may be from the complicated mix of annoyance and residual fear that you’re feeling. Her arms around you exude motherly warmth, something you’re unfamiliar with, until your muscles relax in her grip.

Over Mary’s shoulder, Dean is pressing his lips together to stop himself laughing and then finally your brain catches up. That bastard set you up. He sold you down the river. Still mid-hug you silently mouth to him, “I’m going to kill you.”

That sends Dean over the edge and a deep belly laugh escapes him. He doesn’t even attempt to apologize. He’s too caught up in how funny he thinks he is.

“So, you were all in on this? You too Sammy?” You splay your hand across your chest now that Mary has released you.

Mary links her arm with yours and leans in as if she didn’t rob you of ten years of your life, “if it helps Eileen told us we were being mean.”

You smile at Eileen, your now very good friend, as you take a seat next to her, “at least someone has my back.”

She shrugs nonchalantly, “well, Sam’s girlfriends need to stick together.”

And just like that. The final knife in your back sets them all off howling with laughter again. This was obviously going to be a long weekend.

It's not even day one, that starts tomorrow. It's been a few hours at best and you're already in bed and staring a hole in the ceiling. Ordinarily, you might be questioning why there is a suspicious rectangle that is whiter than the rest. As if the patch of paint had seen less light than the rest of the room like a poster had been there or something.

“You gotta tell me.”

You scoff. He has done nothing to earn any answers from you so far. Looking after you during the journey must have been an act to lull you into a false sense of security because he jumped ship as soon as you arrived. Winchesters are a tight-knit bunch.

“Come on, please?”

It sucks that you love this idiot, it sucks that you haven’t told him, it’s even worse that you cannot resist him. You roll over to his whining voice and prop yourself up on your elbow. It was foolish to ever hope for a good night's sleep when he’s amped up to be in his childhood home again. You can’t say that you remember him being like this last year but, then again, last year you were avoiding him since you were pretending to date his brother. “Oh my god, if I tell you will you let me sleep already?”

Dean nods, using a finger to draw a cross over his chest. Even in the dark, you can see the crinkles of his eyes deepen playfully, “cross my heart. I’ll even help you get off to sleep, by way of apology.” His fingers toy with the waistband of your underwear to hint at his meaning, under his oversized Zeppelin shirt you’re sleeping in.

“Nice try Benedict Arnold, I haven’t forgotten what you did to me.”

He knows by the tone of your voice he won’t get anywhere right now, although it’s nothing to do with his betrayal. You’re still obsessed with somehow clawing back any semblance of a good impression. Sex in his childhood bed doesn’t strike you as the correct way to go about that. He doesn’t tease and try to change your mind with filthy words he knows you love. You think maybe Dean knows tonight isn't the night either. Maybe that’s why he’s asking questions instead.

His hand slides up over your waist and settles comfortingly around your middle—almost as if he knows he has some groveling to do. He asks again hoping to get one of the things he wants; answers. “C’mon. Just tell me. I’ll tell you mine.”

You haven’t spoken much about last year with Dean and you were absolutely fine with that. Last Fourth of July wasn’t exactly a Kodak moment for you. It almost cost you Sam and as much as you love Dean, Sam’s friendship is one of the very foundations of your adult life. Sure last year was the kind of thing you’ve joked about, but the nitty-gritty details had stayed where they should, in the past.

However, being back here, albeit in the next room over to the one you’d previously occupied, has apparently opened the topic up for conversation.

“Fine. You really want to know?”

“With all my heart.”

“God, you’re lucky you’re cute. At the airport. Okay?”

His smile widens until you can see his teeth shine. “You’re joking?”

You bury your face in the pillow, only coming up for air when necessary despite the way he pokes your sides to make you squirm. “No, I’m not joking. I wasn’t sleepy getting off the plane. I was trying to figure out if there was a way for me to make out with my fake boyfriend's hot older brother.”

“You were too good for your fake boyfriend anyway.” He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, “too good for me too.”

He shouldn’t be allowed to catch you off guard like that, it’s against the rules. Yet he does it all the time. The sweetest secrets whispered in your ear while you’re brushing your teeth or watching a movie. As if he needs to tell you as soon as the thought pops into his head. And it’s not fair because he deserved some silent treatment or something. You know he’ll be back to his tricks tomorrow, so he should pay tonight. But now instead of being annoyed at him, your lips are following his while you realize you were never really mad in the first place.

His wandering hand moves to wrap around your neck, his fingers are lost in your hair and his thumb traces over your jaw. This is the classic Dean trick. He thinks he’s so smooth and that one day he’ll manage to keep you attached to his mouth forever if he holds you there, just right.

As much as you want to appease him, it never lasts. Eventually, you always need air in your pesky, needy lungs. Tonight though it ends with your hand on his chest nudging him off of you. “No way. You owe me yours. Come on, when did you start like-liking me?” You finish the question in a sarcastically childish voice.

Dean is nothing if not fair, sometimes, and he would never break a promise. He leans back a little and adopts what you have dubbed his ‘thinking face’. It may be nighttime but you’d recognize that furrowed brow anywhere.

“When I found you in my bedroom.” He finally answers.

It takes a whole second to remember. “Really? You mean when I was trying to find the bathroom?”

“Yeah, I mean a guy comes back to his room and finds a pretty girl...”

It’s your turn to frown, “wait. Correct me if I’m wrong but you’re saying that your ‘moment’ was when you found me in your room, in my pajamas, with bed head and a full bladder?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. You were all cute an’ twitchy when I caught you, then suddenly you’re all fired up and telling me off for making fun of you. You were a little spitfire.”

You drop your forehead to his chest and let out a laugh. Trust Dean to like you because you busted his balls.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, “good enough answer?”

You yawn, happily, and shimmy down into bed proper. “It was your game De. The question is are you happy with yours?”

He settles down next to you, close enough to hear the deep, “mm hmm” in his throat.

Almost everything is different this year but one fact remains the same. You can take the running gear from Sam but you can’t stop Sam from going running.

He has emergency running shoes in his closet.

The new part is that you’re up as early as he is. You’re sitting on the sofa with your laptop propped up on your knees, with yet another witness statement that you were sure was made up. It was too perfect and a jury would never buy it.

By the time Sam, the sweat machine, returns you’re typing a passive-aggressive email to that effect.

“You had any coffee yet?” He asks with two mugs in his hands, passing one to you.

You take the mug without looking up from the screen and swallow a scalding sip, which you only half notice burns your tongue. “Obviously not. Your mom is in there and she still scares me.”

He laughs but doesn’t question it. He doesn’t need to. Dean may have dealt with you on the long drive and whenever he was in town but Sam deals with you every day. He has been privy to almost every one of your breakdowns in the last month. June felt longer than thirty days.

Sam sits down next to you and starts watching the news channel you’d been ignoring. It takes a minute but eventually, he grabs the remote to pause the screen, “ah, there’s my favorite celebrity lawyer.”

You don't need to look up to know that you are on the TV.

“I won’t be anyone’s lawyer if I don’t figure out why my client insists on lying to me and getting people to lie on his behalf.” Your fingers get dangerously close to pounding the plastic keyboard into smithereens. “Hasn’t he heard of attorney-client privilege?”

“Okay. I think you need a little break from that.” He says prying the laptop from you and closing it on the coffee table, so you can’t see the screen anymore.

You want to be mad at him but, of course, you can’t. You look up at him and his soft smile that’s all kinds of sympathetic to the workload you’ve been bearing of late. If you weren’t being driven insane by the biggest case of your career then maybe you’d be a little more rational when it came to this weekend.

Although, that’s unlikely. You were always going to go crazy about this particular get together.

“I swear sometimes I think he’s actually stupid. I’m trying to help him. Why did he even think he could escape arrest in the third most populated city in America?” You shuffle yourself so that you’re sitting sideways and facing him. Despite your insults about your client, the question is earnest.

“Probably figured it’s the only way he’d get to hire you.”

You roll your eyes, “sure, that’s why I’m co-counsel to fucking New York’s finest Marcus Delaney, who he trusts like a fucking brother.”

Sam widens his eyes at you in warning but you catch on too late; his mother is in the next room. You both hold your breath waiting for a reaction. When nothing happens you relax and he answers the least important part of your statement, “technically you’re a New York native too.”

“Objection, relevance?”

“Well, you mentioned…”

“Nah-uh. Enough about me. You took my laptop away so now we have to talk about you.” You smirk into your cup.

Sam knows where this is going. He told you his news two entire weeks ago, it worked like a charm and was also the biggest mistake of his life. Because two weeks ago Sam invited you to his office for lunch and told you over takeout that he was getting married.

He wanted to tell you because you’re his best friend. He’d told you before Dean and sworn you to secrecy until he’d called his brother later that day. Both of you knew the news was coming anyway, so it wasn’t really a race. Sam had been wringing his hands over how to ask the love of his life for weeks before he did it. You only found out about the ‘yes’ before Dean, because Sam had been trying to calm you down after another ‘4th of July freak-out’.

Sam had forgotten what happens if a seven-year-old gets their hands on too much sugar. Or, to be more precise, what happens when he gives a big, juicy, sensitive piece of information to you. Now he can't get you to shut up about it.

He sighs. He’s still facing the TV even though your eyes are on him. “I should have let you keep working, shouldn’t I?”

“Too late for that, Sammy. Have you decided when you’re telling everyone yet?”

He shifts to side-eye you, “oh, yeah. I was thinking, how about never?”

“You can’t bring your devoted fiance home for the weekend and not tell them!” You’re keeping your voice low but it’s insistent all the same.

“Ok. What about at the airport?”

“We’re dropping you back to the airport.”

“Right, before that then.”

You laugh, “why did you even come this weekend if you’re going to chicken out?”

“I’m not going to chicken out but, would it be so bad if I did? I brought you last year to avoid my Mom's crazy and now… I mean this will be like Defcon two.”

You wonder, briefly, what triggers Defcon one. Considering how quickly Mary had asked you if you were pregnant last year, you’d wager it’d be grandchildren.

In the pause where you both sip your morning caffeine again, neither of you notice the slight creak. The kind of creak where a door begins to open but never does.

“All I’m saying is, getting married is an amazing thing. It’s time to share the happy news. Hell, I’ll go wake Dean and we can do it now.”

“That’s easily the worst idea you’ve ever had. And I’m including the outfit you wore to the first office Christmas party.”

He’s walking right into your trap. “I dusted that number off for your brother over Christmas, you know.”

“Oh god. I don’t need to know about you and-and him-and a sexy Santa's helper costume.” He actually gets up, sweeps his mug with him, and sours his face.

“You brought it up, Sammy!” You're grinning all wide and evil, calling after him.

He pauses with his back leaning against the kitchen door, at the same time that Eileen walks in. “I hate you.”

You look up at her and sigh, “you see the way he talks to me when you’re not around?”

This is not the first time Eileen has been caught in the middle of you two, so she laughs and promises, “I’ll talk to him about that.”

Sometimes Dean likes to yank your chain and sometimes you like to yank his. It’s what makes you kind of perfect for each other, any bruised egos or pouting lips are part of the game you play. An excellent example is the way he’d betrayed you already this weekend. You weren’t mad, well, maybe a little, but in the end, you forgave him because it’s him.

In all the jokes there’s one thing that Dean knows not to play around with, one thing that he wouldn’t dare mess with.

Winchester. Family. Baseball.

You had agreed to wear his dumb spare jersey the same as you’d done for Sam. Like Eileen was doing for Sam this year. Although you had to admit her shorts are a little more family-friendly.

You’d even made a sign. A big piece of poster board, some markers, glitter, and stickers that you had gone to Target to buy special. It said GO TEAM DEAN! With a heart to dot the exclamation point. The sign was a surprise. When you’d shown him before leaving for the game he’d called you a dork and smiled so wide you worried his face might break.

You were ready for the game because you were safe. The worst thing that you expect is the comments when you turn up with a ‘1’ on your shirt this year instead of a ‘2’. You’ve already dealt with this from Mary and John but you weren’t so blind to forget about the rest of the family.

Charlie laughs at you when she notices, straight away, and threateningly asks for the story later. Bobby simply says, “switched teams, huh?” Before walking off. Granted he doesn’t seem to judge you, merely stating the observation like an interesting factoid. And Gabe starts, “lookie here when do I-” but smartly stops. He’s too tongue in cheek to be offensive but the look on Deans’ face might have something to do with his change of heart.

All of that you could handle. Par for the course. You had been ready for it because—can’t stress this enough—you were safe. Today was going to be a fun day of cheering on your boyfriend at his weird family baseball game.

You’re so sure of yourself that you even helped Mary pack drinks and snacks, with Eileen as a buffer, because you knew you’d get to enjoy said food. As a spectator.

When John does his ‘gather round me for I am John Winchester’ bit to pick the teams you’re choosing your spot in the stands. A little area in the front row for you, Mary and Eileen where you’re putting the food. You don’t join said gathering because that’s how not relevant it was to your life. You’d find out the teams when they’re playing and you’re only fifteen feet away from them all. You can hear them barking out names fine.

Dean picks Micheal. Sam makes a comment like ‘big surprise’. Bickering ensues until John gets them to focus up.

You could write this stuff in your sleep. You don’t want to call them predictable, considering this was only your second year here, but sometimes the truth is right there in front of you. And the truth is Winchester family baseball is going exactly how you expect.

Actually it’s the one thing that is going how you expect this weekend. Frankly, you needed that, some stability. Something you could rely on.

“Y/N”

Time slows down. In your head, you can hear that siren noise from Kill Bill and the world is suddenly devoid of color, except one. A red light flashes over your vision, as you turn in comically slow motion to find out which one of those idiots betrayed you.

Dean. Of course. The goddamn one you’re in love with.

He has the absolute gall to wave at you from where he’s standing. Smiling like, well, like it’s Fourth of July weekend and he innocently picked his girlfriend to play a game with him. That’s what it must look like to his family anyway.

To you? You feel like Lady Macbeth. Disappointed and betrayed by your significant other who can't do his one job. You’re not even asking him to kill the King of Scotland, all he had to do was not say your name.

Before you have an opportunity to write yourself out of this tragedy, he’s waving you over and your legs start walking. Apparently your body listens to him more than it listens to your own brain. Was nothing sacred anymore?

“There’s my girl.”

Those words would normally make you weak at the knees. Unfortunately for Dean, when it comes to baseball, you’re not melting that easy.

When you reach him you smile until you’re close enough to mutter dangerously, “I’m going to make you disappear and it'll look like an accident.”

You notice people dispersing which means your amazing boyfriend waited to call you till last. Not only did he screw you over but he made you the embarrassing last pick.

He leans in to kiss you and breathes against you, “you know you love playing with me.”

God, you do. You love playing with this dick, who apparently hates you, as well as his dick. Not baseball granted but other games.

“‘Sides,” he continues in your silence, “you don’t want to let all that practice go to waste.”

“All that practice? Practice?” You pull your head back, unable to resist showing him how offended you are, “you mean the time you forced me to go to the batting cages?”

He crosses his hands at your back and pulls you to him until your thighs are pressed against his. Were it not for his jeans then it would be incredibly inappropriate for a family baseball game. Actually, with the jeans, it might still be inappropriate.

“I seem to remember someone enjoying my arms wrapped around her while I taught her how to hit. I also seem to remember that someone forgot all about me in a damn second once she could do it on her own.”

“It was very stress relieving, I kept pretending the ball was the dummy who took me to the batting cages.”

A laugh rumbles through him, his body is so close to yours that you feel it in your stomach.

“Come on, this will be fun. You need more fun.”

You poke a finger into his chest, an inch above the collar of his jersey, “don't pretend you're doing me a favor. if I remember the rules, I don’t have a choice. But don’t you worry, I won’t forget this.”

He grins in that ‘brighter than the sun’ Dean way, “I know baby. I know.”

You’d made it home four times, an impressive three more than last year. None of them were from hitting a home run or anything preposterous. You do hit the ball almost every time though. You still couldn’t catch, throw or run--all three skills are apparently super essential in baseball. You can connect the bat with the ball though. Everyone seems pretty impressed every time it happens, if only they knew how impressed you were every time you manage it.

Your lack of skills aside, when Dean wins, he leans you over his arm and kisses you rightly. As if it’s V-J day and he single-handedly stopped WWII. Eileen sneaks up on Sam, from where she’d been watching in the stands. Although your ASL is not perfect, you’re at least 80% sure that her hand's sign “sucks to be you,” as she walks to him. You might love her a little more than you did ten minutes ago and Sam laughs a little harder too.

Dean chooses a steakhouse. The place is all wood paneling and soft lighting. The ambiance reminds you of your first real date in Chicago, although there will probably be less sticky fingers. From the ribs, obviously.

Mary and John drive ahead and they’re waiting outside when you all arrive. You’ve told Eileen to be prepared, told her to have her wits about her, promised her you’ll jump in if necessary. She’d told you not to worry.

Oh, you hate to see it happen.

As soon as you’re inside you volunteer to sit next to John, it’s the smallest kindness you can do for your friend. She should sit between the safety of Sam and Dean for what is to come.

It starts as you expect and it’s strange being on the other side of the interrogation. Nobody gives a flying crap about what drink or food you order but Eileen? She gets the same treatment you had last year. Silence and an entire table waiting to hear what she has to say. She’s the shiny, new thing everyone is interested in. You’re both glad and sorry. Glad the heat is taken off of you and sorry that it’s Eileen bearing the brunt of it.

Although—and it’s not your imagination—they are a hell of a lot easier on her than John had been on you. It presumably helps that Eileen is a Librarian. Her stories are all child reading groups and teaching elderly people how to use email in the computer room. Even you find yourself a bit smitten and you already knew her.

You’re trying not to focus on her too much though. Let her charm Mary and John, she doesn’t need another face watching her while she talks. Instead, you concentrate on your appetizer, one of those deep-fried onion things you’re sharing with Dean. The unspoken agreement is if you eat smelly food then you do it together.

He shakes his head, making eye contact with you as he takes a particularly over the top bite, when you’re pulled back into the main conversation.

“Y/N, where did you spend Christmas last year?”

“I’m sorry?” You ask somewhat dazed by being called on so soon.

Mary smiles kindly, “Eileen mentioned her parent's cabin, which I know is where they spent Christmas. I realized I had no idea where you spent the holidays?”

“Sure. I-erm, I stayed in Chicago.” Dean's hand under the table surprises you when you feel the weight of him on your knee.

“Oh, funnily enough, I remember Dean saying he was in Chicago too and I thought to myself how strange that was with Sam being gone.”

Everyone laughs at her joke, even your boyfriend while he moves his hand up your thigh.

“Didn’t want to head to New York and see your parents?” She continues her line of inquiry.

You have no idea where she’s going with it, why you’re the one in the hot seat, or why Dean is driving you crazy with his thumb rubbing those incessant circles in your skin. You answer anyway.

“N-No. They go to Europe every other Christmas so they’ll be home this year.”

Mary takes a bite of whatever-the-hell is on her plate. “The boys are coming to us this year too, I guess we’ll have to get better about syncing these things up, huh?”

His hand alone wouldn’t normally drive you as crazy as it is right now. He’s only tapping a slow, teasing rhythm into your thigh for crying out loud. But it’s been a few days and before that a few weeks, and you’d been resolved to not sully this wholesome family weekend. So, your breath is just a touch shorter than normal when he squeezes, and you can only hide it by talking.

“Yeah, yeah. I guess we will.” You agree easily.

“I’m looking forward to meeting your parents, yours too Eileen. Do you think we’ll be meeting yours before Christmas Y/N? Any other big events coming up?”

Were you not focusing on the heat of his hand under your skirt then you might be suspicious of the way she asks that. As it is Dean chooses then to wink at you because he thinks it's hilarious how preoccupied you are.

“Erm, Thanksgiving?”

“Right, right. Thanksgiving.” She smirks like she has a secret.

You stand up suddenly, needing to get away from your teasing boyfriend, “sorry. I’m going to go use the restroom.”

“Hurry back.” Dean’s mocking tone follows you.

Were his parents not at the table you'd tell him to go to hell.

Saturday morning comes faster than you expected. You did have a jump on the long weekend because you’d all taken a day off work this year but Saturday still seemed to have jumped from a cupboard to surprise you.

You wake up as you often do when you share Dean’s bed. One of you, today it’s him, has the other one, you, in what can only be described as an inescapable hold. He’s got one arm wrapped around you, fingers hanging loose over your stomach where you’re laying on your side. His other arm is encroaching on your pillow to surround you and his head is curled in your neck. His breath is slow and hot over your skin. You never imagined that you’d enjoy waking up like this, so incredibly close to someone. And then you met Dean. Sometimes you wrap him up in your sleep, your fingers in his hair, and one leg thrown over his. Either way one always claims the other and you wouldn’t want anything different.

Except at this very second.

Dean is a light sleeper. A bit of a contradictory trait for someone who likes to sleep as much as he does—yours is not to question why—but you never want to willingly wake him if you can avoid it. You’re more than happy to let sleeping Dean’s lie. When you don’t need the bathroom that is.

Even though this isn’t your first time trying you still give it your best shot to slip out without disturbing him.

You think you’re getting there. You’ve managed to roll onto your back for an easier way out, his face is now smashed into his pillow instead of your back, you’ve slipped down the bed a little to get away from his hand on your pillow. It’s only that arm across you that you need to get free from. Today is the day that you’ll finally manage to pee without waking him up. The trick, you think, is not to touch him. You’ve been burned before by trying to lift his arm off of you when you only need to slip out from under it.

“Come on, five more minutes.” He mumbles, fingers come to life to hold you tighter and you swear you see his lip curl because you’ve failed to sneak away again.

“I need to pee.” Who says romance is dead?

He huffs, you’ve hit on what he deems an acceptable reason to let go of you. Barely.

Not that he eases up. You have to wiggle from his hold which makes you crack your first smile of the day. Despite your need to hurry you bend over him and press a kiss to his cheek. “How about I get some coffee while I’m up, see if I can get you to forgive me?”

“You can try.” He mutters in his half-sleep state.

The house is quiet when you leave the bathroom, ridiculously quiet for how full of people it will be later. The calm tricks you into feeling invincible, where nobody else exists save for you and the man you left in bed.

“Morning Y/N.” Mary is sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee, and not doing much else.

“Oh my god!” You recoil with your whole body, arms bent into your chest like you’re trying to stave off a heart attack. You can be a little dramatic at times but the way she’s sitting in silence, illuminated only by the early morning light from the backyard, almost gives the illusion of her appearing out of thin air. “Sorry, Mary. I must be easy to scare first thing in the morning.”

A slow smile spreads over her face, “no I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I like a few minutes of peace before the boys are up is all.”

You grab two mugs, a pretty clear indication you plan to take coffee back to Dean, but before you can fill both she makes you an offer you can’t refuse. “You and I both know he is already back to sleep, he’ll keep for a few minutes. Sit with me.”

Dean's empty mug, your excuse to leave, gets left on the counter with most of your hopes and dreams. The only thing you try to cling to is that Mary wants to carry on sitting in silence, only, together.

“Y/N, we haven’t had a chance to talk, just you and me. Not since last year.”

Or maybe, just maybe, she’d been waiting for you all along.

“I guess we haven’t. I-eh, I really did mean what I said when I got here Mary. I’m sorry about everything.”

“I’m not trying to rake you over the coals here, and I’m not looking for another apology. I know what my sons think of me, Sam thinks I’m crazy. You were being a good friend.” She shrugs like it's that simple.

It’s kind of ridiculous how quickly you relax, and how quickly you start spilling your guts, “The lying though. I don’t feel good about that.”

Mary is quick. She leans over the table and wraps her hand around yours, “I don’t remember that much lying. I could tell you loved Sam last year and if that’s like a brother, I’m still glad he has you.”

She’s right. You do love Sam like a brother, the one you never had. He’s been more your family than your own. The first family you’d chose and only real family you had, which is why you’d been so scared at first. It’s why you’d been so quick to run from Dean at the risk of losing Sam. Hell, sometimes you wonder if it’s one of the many reasons you love Dean—because he’s the only other person on the planet who loves Sam as much as you do.

Your fingers twitch under her hand, unsure of the loving way she holds you. Unsure if you deserve it or why she offers it so easily. Whatever the answer is, she has your guard down.

“What about Dean?” It’s a loaded question. You need someone else to see what’s there before you can admit it to him. You're looking for confidence because you are unsure of his feelings. Who better to judge than his own mother?

She squeezes enough to tell you that you’re looking down at your coffee instead of looking at her, before she pulls back to lift her mug to her lips again. “That’s obvious Y/N.” She almost sounds bored at such an easy question, ”I knew I was right all along.”

"Right about what?”

Not even a pause. If she was indeed waiting for you this morning then she was waiting for you to ask this question.

“That you are going to be a Winchester someday.”

“No-I, no…” You trail off to nothing and it’s not because of the way Mary is still grinning despite your protests. It’s not her raised eyebrows over the rim of her cup. It’s not even the little hum like noise she lets out in affirmation that yes, you would wear the big 'W' as your last name.

It’s that you can see it. You’ve had a year of long-distance with Dean; scheduled weekends and facetime dates. You’ve been itching to tell him how you feel but terrified of scaring him away, scared of moving too quickly with the guy you don’t see enough, scared he doesn’t feel the same. And yet in the back of your mind, the vision is forming, pushing its way to the front without permission. Dean on one knee. You in a white dress. The moment you both say ‘I do’.

Is this what becoming a hopeless romantic feels like? Or were you always this much of a total sap?

“Don’t worry, I know.” She reiterates again.

Mary has a reputation, she’s pushy enough, so you assume that’s what this is. You assume she’s making a premonition, not looking for confirmation of something she thinks she already knows. So, you look to escape what you think is the awkwardness that you can’t answer.

“I’m going to get Dean his coffee or-or we’ll never get him out of bed.”

She nods you to leave but disagrees with your evaluation, “I think you underestimate how much my son loves fireworks.”

You smile wide, remembering how his face lit up in the dark the year before, “You’re right. Still, I should go get him up.”

Then you pour more coffee, including Deans, and run. If anyone else caught wind of this conversation they would never believe you were a defense lawyer, let alone the lawyer who’s been plastered over the news defending a celebrity on a murder case.

Dean has, predictably, gone back to sleep since you left. Although the light sleeper that he is, he is roused by the door opening and the smell of coffee.

“Baby?”

That’s all it takes to make you forget the conversation with Mary ever happened. You can’t help but laugh at his sleepy voice as you slip in next to him, careful not to spill anything while he fidgets awake, “who else would wake you up like this?”

He rubs at his eyes, “oh, y’know, my other girlfriend.”

“You’ll have to introduce us one day, we can compare notes.”

You’re still not used to the Winchester’s if you’re being completely honest. To you, barbecue has always been a type of food, and not necessarily one your parents approved of. It was never a place, a home. That’s what today is. Saturday afternoon and the sun is high, there's a faint twang of country music coming from somewhere. Not loud enough to hear the lyrics but loud enough to identify the genre, loud enough to wish you were wearing a cowboy hat. Everyone has a beer or a burger, or both. And it’s not all dopey eyed niceties. There are teenagers, Claire and Alex, hating everyone from the other end of the yard. Occasionally there’s a “screw you” or a “you idjit” shouted from the many random conversations happening. But it’s still somehow perfect in the imperfections. It’s cozy and homely. It’s a family. Love.

It would be easy to feel overwhelmed and convince yourself that you don’t belong. It’s lucky that you have your boyfriend. And since he has disappeared on you, Sam and Eileen. Although she is doing a much better job than you at fitting in.

“She’s going to make me look bad,” you tell Sam while you both watch Eileen animatedly tell Uncle Bobby something that makes him howl. Even his stoic expressions are hidden behind his beard but Eileen is a stand-up comedian, apparently

“That’s not hard is it?” He teases.

“That might hurt if you hadn’t picked me to bring last year, to protect her from all this.” You use the neck of your bottle to draw a circle in the air around the whole motley crew of his family.

Before you register his movement he has an arm around your shoulders, you’re expecting a headlock so you’re pleasantly surprised when he pulls you into a side hug. “That’s the first time you’ve joked about it since… since last year. I’m glad. Everyone else is over it, you’re the only one hanging on Y/N/N.”

You don’t want to choke up in the middle of their backyard but sometimes Sam’s big brother moments hit you like that. “I never said I was very good at letting things go.”

He huffs. “You’re too tough sometimes. That’s why I picked you to help me.” He sucks in a slow breath, “you have to get out of your head... and maybe stop being so annoying.”

You shove him back so he can’t lean on you but now you’re out of his hold he’s looking down at you with those damn puppy dog eyes. He hasn’t asked for something which means he’s trying to use them to make you feel better. You hadn’t realized you’d needed to feel better, was your face sad enough to warrant a Sam pep talk

“I’m fine,” you wave away his concern. “Have you decided yet?”

“And there I was hoping you’d forget.”

“Is Eileen happy to let you forget?” You counter him with an expectant look. “She wants to tell them but she’s happy to let me make the decision since it’s my family.” He says in a pointed, not pointed way.

You shake your head, “she’s going too easy on you. Good thing you have me to put you in line.”

“I thought I was the line?” It takes you a beat, you’re actually surprised he remembered you saying that to John.

“No, that was what I had to say when I was being paid to make you look good.” His face turns somber, “I never paid you.”

“Tomayto, tomahto Sammy.” You finish the beer in your hand, “you know I’m not pushing you, right? If you don’t do it, there’s always Christmas, or send a save the date.”

He shoves at you this time and the air returns to its normal lightness. “I know. You only want me to put on my big boy pants.”

“I could care less about your pants. I want you to take the heat off me, obviously.” You hold up your bottle to him, “I’m out. You need another one?”

He chuckles, ducks his head, and looks at his fiance again. “Yeah, dutch courage might help.”

“Dare to dream.” You sympathize, patting him on his shoulder.

Sam might tell them today, he might not. You wouldn’t judge him either way. He knows you aren’t judging him. You’re nudging him, not so gently. You’re being for him what he is for you. A good friend. Sam has a tendency to drag his heels sometimes and his relationship with Eileen is one of the few things you’ve seen him jump into wholeheartedly. He is, after all, engaged in under a year. You’re beyond pleased because you’ve never seen him so happy, all you want is for Sam’s family to enjoy seeing that too. If you elbow him in the right direction it’s only because you know he’ll regret it down the road.

Besides, it’s not like Mary can scare Eileen away. She already said yes.

So, Dutch courage it is. You don’t condone drinking to excess in front of his parents but a few more beers wouldn’t hurt. They’d only loosen his lips.

The cooler is by the door to the kitchen, for easy refills whether that’s ice or beer. It’s out of the way. Most people stay close to the grill or their seat if they have managed to command one.

You assume your trip will be short and sweet. There’s no one else standing by the plastic box, which means no awkward cooler small talk to get trapped in. It’s half-empty but there are enough bottles that you won’t have to top it up even taking one for you and Sam. Then you stand up with a bottle in each hand, about to turn tail when at the edge of your peripheral you register Dean and Mary in the kitchen.

The window to the kitchen is wide and open and you should walk away. You almost walk away. Then Mary speaks and you can hear them so clearly that you have no choice. You duck down and sit precariously on top of the cooler.

“I know I’m not supposed to rush you but Dean, honey, I can’t stand it any longer. When are you going to announce it? I’m dying!”

Your interest is piqued. Unfortunately. It’s wrong, completely and utterly. Dean should be allowed his secrets whatever they are. Still, it’s not your fault that he chose to have this conversation, with his mother, in the kitchen. Where anyone could walk in or overhear them.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Although to be fair Dean doesn’t sound like a willing participant in this conversation, so maybe he doesn’t have a secret you have to worry about.

You don’t dare get up and peak through the glass since they sound quite close, but you hear Mary sigh.

“I heard her talking to Sam about it. How she wants to tell everyone and-and if it was up to her she’d have told us all already.”

The sound of the fridge opening and closing before he answers. “Still not following, Mom?”

“The proposal Dean. You asked her to marry you. She all but admitted it to me this morning and I’m so, so happy for you. I did think you’d talk to me first but… When am I getting my big announcement so we can celebrate?”

You suck in a breath and hope that it didn’t make a sound. If you can hear them it stands to reason they might hear you. Neither of them seems to. Or they’re distracted. Dean is silent for a too long beat, Mary is clearly confused, and she’s thrown you under the bus along with her, for good measure.

“You’ve got it all wrong. I don’t know what you think you heard…”

A pit forms in the bottom of your stomach at his tone, how against the idea he sounds. It’s fine, you try convincing yourself, he’s defending Sam’s secret.

“Don’t lie to me, Dean. I know you and your brother think I’m nuts but I want you both to be happy. That's all.”

There’s a part of you that knows you should stop this. Come to Dean's rescue and clarify. You could fix this in thirty seconds or less. That’s what you would do if you weren’t stuck like your feet are made of cement.

“You've gotta cool it with that, ok? Y/N is just a girl I’m dating, that’s it, and I don’t want her getting the wrong idea. You breathing down her neck won’t help anything.”

You have to remind yourself that you’d wanted to know his secret. But maybe you’d only wanted to know because you hoped, assumed, that he felt the same as you.

You’d never actually expected a proposal. Not for years. You’d have been happy with not getting one ever as long as you got Dean. He was your prize, not some ring. But his tone says you don’t have him in any way that you want, you’re just a girl he’s dating. Just a date. He didn’t even say girlfriend. He didn’t even say he likes you.

“Oh, well. I’m sorry. I must have had my wires crossed. I’ll leave it alone.” Mary sounds deflated and disappointed. About a tenth of the hurt you’re spiraling into.

She also sounds like her footsteps are getting closer.

You need to move this time. Because the only thing worse than hearing this conversation is one of them knowing you’d heard this conversation.

The beers get left on the decking next to the cooler you’re still balancing your weight on. You stay low, curled over, as you take long steps along the side of the house. Your immediate plan is to get out of the way while Mary re-enters the backyard but it’s a mere thirty seconds before Dean comes striding out after her. He looks around, maybe for you, maybe for anyone else, it doesn’t really seem like it matters.

You’ve been worrying if Dean loves you, if you would scare him off by telling him you do. You’d never considered that he’s not anywhere close to that. He might never be.

Your mistake had been to immediately take solace in his room. It’s so his. It smells like him, every single thing reminds you of him. It’s the inanimate object version of going to cry in his arms.

It only made everything so much worse.

Though Dean’s room doesn’t contain a small library like Sam’s, there’s still a desk and a padded desk chair. The desk is covered in random things; a picture of him and Sam while Sam graduates Stanford, some sunglasses and amongst other things a small model car. A model of the impala that you’d toyed with while you were sneaking in some emails last night. He’d told you his dad gave it to him as a kid because his obsession with the car had begun early. However currently the chair is not where it is supposed to be. It’s wedged under his door handle because neither brother has a lock on their door.

You’ve spread out since you’ve been here. Your laptop is in the only free spot on his desk, your case is open on the floor where you’ve been living from it for two days now. Not to mention your things everywhere, a mascara here, or a lipstick there. At home, you only manage to stay any semblance of tidy because everything has its place but this is Dean’s space. It’s not even his, it’s his teenage space, somewhere he outgrew but visits every once in a while. Not even he completely fits in here anymore.

The point is you clearly don’t belong. Not even an inch. Dean liked you but that was it. As painful as it is to admit that’s not enough anymore. You’ve outgrown dates and sex, well, you’ve outgrown only having those things. For the first time in your life, you want the next step and Dean doesn’t. That’s the risk you take when you care about someone, getting hurt is always a possibility.

The only problem is you promised yourself no more pretending. Last year was enough for a lifetime. So, you can’t skip back downstairs and pretend you hadn’t heard what you did. You can’t sit next to him and watch fireworks and not be heartbroken.

“Y/N? Sweetheart?” There’s a knock at the door that spooks the makeup you’d been collecting out of your hands. You don’t answer him instead, you scramble for the things you’ve dropped and scoop them up faster.

He twists the doorknob and you carry on your task because the chair will protect you.

Then the door starts moving. You expect to hear resistance after a second but the room is filled with the squeak of plastic wheels.

You’d forgotten that the damn chair is on wheels.

The makeup is dropped again, spilling out over the floor once more as you fall to your ass and slide across the carpet. You’d never managed anything close to a slide in baseball, never ever needed to learn one. Now you perfect it in all of two feet. Your feet plant either side of the chair and your hands wrap around the seat pushing it back until the door closes again. This was a mistake, the chair is only making it harder to push back, you should have moved it and shoved yourself against the door, it’s just too late for a redo.

“Hey, hey. Open the door.” It’s hard to tell if he’s angry, he mostly sounds urgent.

Your heart is pounding out of your chest, still, it’s impossible to find the words to answer him. You don’t want to say something you’ll regret, or can’t take back, even if you’re hurt. In your silence, he keeps pushing, literally and figuratively.

He twists the handle again but this time there’s a little weight on his side. The weight pushes against the chair and by extension you. It’s not his full weight, he’s bigger than you though so even his half weight is starting to force you backward. You scramble to gain some traction, planting your feet better, shoving some more. The carpet gives you some friction but not enough to help against the force of Dean Winchester. You keep moving.

After a minute things are about a hundred miles south of ridiculous. You love ridiculous, when you’re not trying to run away that is.

Dean is one foot in the room, thick fingers wrapped around the door and his head pushed in looking at you. There’s a confused knot in his forehead while he takes in exactly what he’s forced his way to look at.

You straddling the bottom part of his desk chair, shoved against the door, and looking up at him wildly.

“Really, sweetheart?” He asks with a mix of frustration in his eyes and a curl on his lips, “what the hell?”

That’s enough to snap you out of it and jump up from the floor. Your hands smooth over the wrinkles in your jeans as if nothing happened. “Hi, Dean. Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

You may be hurting, sure, but if your parents taught you anything it’s how to cover any emotion with pragmatic denial.

He steps all the way into the room now without you in the way. “Someone else? Comin’ into my room, looking for you?”

“Could have been anyone,” you shrug. Careful to keep your voice steady and neutral while you go back to collecting your twice dropped makeup from the floor. “Wouldn’t want any of your cousins to wander in here.”

“Right. Because they’re leaving the yard while there’s food on the grill, come on it’s like-”

“I heard what you said to your Mom.” The last thing you wanted to say makes it to the tip of your tongue anyway, as you dispense the collected make up into your case like a dump truck.

He parts those lips of his, which means he’s worried about something and then he smiles. He smiles at you while you’re doing everything not to cry.

There’s a quiver in your voice despite yourself, “it’s fine I get it. I wish you’d told me yourself but I can’t do anything about that. And I know I shouldn’t have been listening in and I’m sorry. Can you give me a few minutes to get sorted please?”

Dean cocks his head, takes a step closer to you, and then stops when you grimace, “what?”

“You said you-that we-I’m not expecting anything but I thought I was more than ‘just another girl’ you’re dating.” You shake your head, trying to stop those tears now you’ve said it out loud. Feeling your vision blur and wobble anyway. “Like I said it’s fine. I’m getting out of here though. I found a flight home, there’s no point in you driving me home eleven hours when it’s four to St Louis.”

Not to mention the fact that you couldn’t stand to sit in the car with him that long while you’re feeling like this.

“Woah, Woah, Woah baby.” He doesn’t pause this time. He doesn’t care about your frown as he approaches you, he’s more concerned about fixing whatever you have gotten in your head. He’s on you in an instant. One warm hand on your shoulders and one at your chin, lifting your face to his and taking in all your sadness. You hate that he’s making you stare into his eyes like this. Those green, soulful eyes had been one of the first things you noticed on his beautiful dumb face and now this feels like a goodbye. Of course, it's not a goodbye. He’s trying to tell you just by looking at you that you’re a goddamn idiot. “Have you met my mom? Remember when she asked if you were pregnant when you’d been dating Sam like a month?”

“Fake dating. Why does everyone forget I was fake dating him?”

He chuckles, “‘course. Faking. Well, you heard her, right? She thinks we’re the ones getting hitched. Imagine if I’d thrown fuel on the fire and told her that you’re my girl, I love you and that you’re it for me.”

There’s a big, huge lump in your throat stopping you breathing. Too gigantic to swallow down. Tears still want to rain over your face, again, but you refuse to be the girl that cries because her boyfriend, who she loves, finally told her what she’s been waiting to hear.

Wait, you need to say something back.

“I love you too.”

His smile is slow and lazy but it’s perfectly timed with how gently his body leans in to kiss you. His shoulders drop while you’re sighing into his mouth like every romantic comedy heroine. His hands still on your shoulders relax their hold a little and you realize, he might have been doubting how you felt too.

“That’s good to know.” He breathes. “But see if I’d have told my mom all that, with the whole family here, she’d have us shotgun married before I got the chance to actually ask you.”

Your eyes widen, “no. You’re not?”

“Nah, planning on knocking those socks off when I do. Fair warning though, that’s coming.”

A strangled laugh comes out of you because you are, and have always been, the stupidest person alive. Dean loves you. He loves you and you love him. And why have you waited so long to say it?

“Move in with me?” It seems like the next best thing to every sweet thing he just said. It’s not enough but for once you’re happy to be second best in a conversation. You’ve been thinking about it long enough, hating the distance and the weekends you’ve spent apart. It’s so obvious that you should have worked it out months ago.

“What?” He gives you the pleasure of seeing his goofy confused face while your finger traces the curve of his bottom lip. In case you ever forget.

“Move in with me. Move to Chicago to be with me. Benny can manage in St. Louis and you can open a second location... or be chief of police or a fireman or just eat deep dish all the day long, whatever you want. Be with me in Chicago? Everyday? Sam’s there too. How can you be his best man from three hundred miles away?”

Another kiss and a bigger grin that comes from his chest, not even you expected it to be this easy. Which is more of that stupidity because with Dean it’s always easy. You can only imagine how rosy your cheeks are as he answers, “you had me at pizza.”

You get to the foot of the stairs when Sam pops out of the living room. You’ve schooled your beaming grin into something more subdued because you don’t want to draw focus but Sam’s probably still just waiting for his beer. He tilts his head down and asks, “you good?”

Before you can tell him that you have never been better, Dean saunters down the steps behind you without any concern for drawing attention. “Sammy, how many times have I told you, you can’t have her back. She’s mine now.”

Sam purses his lips at his brother, which is still funny to you, and you press a hand to his chest to distract him from their brother games. “We’re all good Sam, I’ll fill you in later. The important thing is are you ready to go? Weekend is nearly over.”

He smiles at you, “couldn’t do it without my legal eagle.”

Finally, he gets it. “Legal eagles for life, Sam.”

“You two are a pair of dorks.” Dean slumps an arm over both of your shoulders, “I can’t believe I love a dork even dorkier than my dork brother.”

If Sam notices any difference or the massive L-word Dean dropped, he keeps his reaction in check. Besides he’s engrossed in something else, he kind of has something huge to announce to his whole family right now. Something you’ve been dying to witness since he told you.

You turn in Dean’s arm to threaten him, “he can still drop you and make me best man, you know that, right?”

Dean feigns anger, “he would never.”

“Keep talking pretty boy and see how fast I’m planning the bachelor party.”

“She thinks I’m pretty.” Dean turns his head to smile at Sam and involve him in your sparring match, you know since best man is his decision, but Sam is now bitch facing the pair of you.

He doesn’t say anything, just swings an arm out towards the kitchen and beyond that the backyard. An annoyed invitation to join him and his fiance for the big moment you’ve all been waiting for.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on De. Let’s go let Sammy-boo and Leney-bear be as disgusting as we are.”

You’re already in the kitchen when Sam shouts after you, “I told you not to call us that!”

“Eileen said she didn’t mind!”

Weirdly, the party in the backyard is exactly how you left it and yet you feel like everything changed, for the better, in the last twenty minutes.

Eileen sees all three of you step out of the house and senses that its time. Or Sam had already told her it was before he went looking for you. Either way, she walks over to Sam who magically ends up in the middle of the yard.

You can feel the excitement buzzing from Dean where he’s standing next to you, you bet he’s feeling that from you too.

“Hey everyone, I kind of have an announcement,” Sam calls out.

Most of them look around but nobody moves and he hasn’t captured everyone's attention in the way John does at the baseball game. For some reason that line from Highlander pops into your head, there can only be one. It’s a concerted effort not to snort at your own joke.

John is, however, one of the people that heard Sam so he hollers, “cut it out, Sammy’s got something to say.”

That’ll do it. The music shuts off and everyone gathers in a circle around Sam and Eileen. You notice then that Eileen’s ring has appeared back on her finger. You know she had it on a necklace until this announcement but the sleight of hand to make it happen is impressive.

“Thanks, Dad. I’ll keep this short and sweet because I know you’re all waiting on more food but while we had everyone here we thought we should tell you all.”

Somehow, you hear Mary’s heart stop from twenty feet away.

“As most of you know Eileen and I met just over a year ago,” a few people who haven't been briefed share looks since he’d been ‘dating’ you last year. “And well, I’ve never been happier or more in love with someone in my life. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted and a few weeks ago I got my act together and asked her to marry me.”

Eileen holds up her hand then, beaming, ‘and I said yes!”

They had to have rehearsed that on the flight.

Chaos ensues. Everyone claps and cheers and people try to move in to congratulate them. Above all of that Mary screams like she’s being murdered. She rushes forward letting every thought in her head fall out of her mouth, “But I thought Dean and Y/N… so you’re telling me it was you all along? Oh Sammy, sweetie, I am so, so happy for you. Oh god, I’m so proud of you.” She wraps her arms around him and crushes him. “And I’m so happy you’re going to be part of the family!” She lets go of her son to give Eileen the same bruising hug.

“Well done, son.” John claps Sam on the back with, you think, the faintest hint of proud tears in his eyes.

Dean wraps his arm around you then like he'd been unable to do it until everything with Sam was ok. You lean into his chest and whisper only loud enough for him, "he's going to be so excited about you being in the city with us."

"You think?"

"I know it. Granted not as excited as me."

He rests his chin on the top of your head, slotting you into him like a puzzle piece.

In the background, it goes on and on until everyone has said something to the happy couple. Even Bobby gets this choked noise caught in his throat. The whole display is actually very touching.

When they finish the mayhem John proposes a toast in which everyone raises their drinks. Then the drinking and eating continue, with much more vigor than before. The whole thing goes from a Fourth of July celebration to a party. The music is a little more upbeat, the hard liquor is brought out early and the hum of everyone feels excited.

Sam—who has been hugged, pinched and shoved playfully enough to last him till the end of days—wanders over to you and Dean with his fiance in tow. “Are you happy now?” He directs the question at you specifically.

You reach up to grab his face with both hands and jiggle his head while you baby-talk to him, “my little Sammy, I’m so proud of you.”

Dean and Eileen both laugh and it's one of those perfect moments you only expect to see in the movies. You realize then that with these three people around you could actually look forward to the Fourth of July with the Winchesters for years to come.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23 Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278 @bloodydaydreamer

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