#but sam is so focused on helping brady himself

[holyfreaks]

so sam meets brady first and have what was thought to be a quick one night stand blowjob at a frat party but then they find out they share a class so they start to hang out together and they try to study together but it ends up with them coming in their pants, drunk handjobs, sloppy makeout sessions, etc

then sam meets jess and falls in love. brady feels.... sad somehow. even though they were casual, it still feels like he's losing sam a bit.

then he gets possessed.

demon brady falls into drugs and partying and is this close to dropping out of school and sam notices and tries SO hard to get brady back on track but all brady is interested in is getting in bar fights and fucking sam.

sam would never cheat on jess, but maybe he could save brady, ya know? so he allows brady to hit him and kiss it better

then jess dies and well. you know how that goes.

[prettypinkporkchop]

I need a Paul x nerd reader in my life I think there dynamic would be so cute

I fucking love the jock x nerd trope (i know Paul's not a jock but close enough)

How it began:

You're peacefully reading your book at the public library behind a shelf. You hear two loud guys behind you out of the book aisle. You think to yourself how you're thankful for graduating school! You close the book and step out toward the checkout to buy it. You're stopped dead in your tracks.

Paul Lahote and his friend, Embry Call. Embry is being quiet and looking around for something. You gasp and hide behind the shelf. Paul Lahote. He bullied you for the longest time. When he left high school to join Sam's cult, you were already graduating. He's a year younger than you, but he was mister popular. You were just a book worm with straight A's. You've never even been in a relationship.

Embry has always been respectful. You've always questioned why he associates with him. But getting that quick view of their new hair made you extra nervous. You know Embry won't acknowledge you. Paul might even though you guys are grown now. You don't know! He's always unpredictable and hotheaded.

You take a deep breath and lower your head, quickly making your way to the check out desk. Before you reach it, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You swiftly turn and meet Paul. He's smiling his taunting smile, but it quickly fades. He seems lost in thought. Embry is standing next to him and grabs his arm. "Paul." He whispers. Paul snaps out of it and then looks down. "Hey, y/n. Good to see you." Then he walks away.

You can't help but wonder what the fuck that was about. Embry turns to you with a look of "yikes". "Sorry about that, y/n. Uhm, good to see you! Gotta blast." He gives you the peace out sign and walks away. Oh, Embry. What a dork! Oh, wait...

Now:

"Babe! Come play with us!" Paul calls out. He's holding the soccer ball in his hand. You look up from your book and push up your glasses. You can see some of the guys in the water. The other imprints decided to go shopping. It wasn't really your thing, so you stayed with Paul.

"No, sweetie. You know I'm no good at that stuff." You laugh. He groans and tosses the ball to Jared. They start playing again. But Paul stops and runs over to you, playing on your back, tackling you, and holding you down. You laugh loudly as he begins to tickle you. You toss the book and completely lose your place. "Paul!" You yell and then reach for the book. "It's got sand in it, and you made me lose my place." You sigh. He grabs your face and kisses you hard. You kiss back and hold his face, too, rubbing your thumbs on his cheek.

"Think fast!" You hear Quil running to you two. You pull away and see the ball coming right toward you. Paul reacts quickly, catching it with one hand. "Bro, really?" He glares at him.

You guys get home, and Paul is watching football on TV. You're sitting on your phone, looking at Pinterest crafting ideas. Easy ones that'll keep you out of bordemn in your free time. "YOO!" He yells and laughs. He points at the screen and looks at you. "Did you see that horrible defense?! Hell no." He turns back and laughs. You just smile and nod your head, not understanding a thing he said. He turns back to you and grabs your thigh. "Right, my nerd." He leans in and peppers kisses all over your face. You lay back and pull him on top of you. He holds himself up, looking down at you. "When you are focusing on reading or anything else, really, you're so cute. When you tutor Brady and Collin for math, I love it." He smiles. You blush and wrap your arms around his neck. "Thank you, sexy." You giggle and pull him down for a kiss. His lips land on yours for a moment, and he pulls away, looking down at you. "Do you want to play video games together? How about Madden? It's not real football. I'm sure you'll like it!" He sits up and turns on his Playstation. You suck in a breath. "Last time you made me play a sports game, I nearly fell asleep." You giggle. He laughs and then goes through his downloads. He skips animal crossing SOOOO fast. "Hey!" You call out. "Nope. Nope. I'll settle for Minecraft, but that's all you get." He shakes his head. "How about we meet in the middle? GTA?" You grab the other controller that's on the coffee table. He smirks and turns to you. "I pick the music when we steal a bus."

[chicgeekgirl89]

A Tale of a Fateful Trip

Fandom: NCIS LA

Characters: Sam Hanna, G Callen, Kensi Blye, Marty Deeks, Nell Jones, Eric Beale, Otis the Sea Lion

Summary: The mate was a mighty sailing man, the skipper brave and sure. Four passengers set sail that day, for a three hour tour. The team sets out for an afternoon of fun on Sam's boat and gets in a lot of trouble.

A/N: This just demanded, DEMANDED to be written. LOOK AT THOSE LYRICS! THE STORY WRITES ITSELF! Enjoy the nonsense! 

                           XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Ahoy matey!” Eric called to Sam as they walked up the dock. “Shiver me timbers and blow me down!”

“How many nautical references is he going to make today?” Deeks asked Nell.

“As many as he possibly can,” Nell said. “I’m pretty sure he made a list.”

“You can’t tell me that Eric works for the Navy and doesn’t know the difference between a pirate ship and fishing boat,” Callen asked.

“Oh he knows,” Nell said. “He just doesn’t care.”

“Deeks did you put my sunglasses in here?” Kensi called from behind them, having stopped briefly to search through her bag.

“They’re in the side pocket,” Deeks said. 

She dug around and pulled them out. “Oh thanks babe!”

“Wow, Sam, the boat looks great!” Nell said as they came aboard. 

In honor of completing his final renovations on the vessel Sam had invited the team aboard for an afternoon of fishing. They’d all seen the “before” pictures and Sam had truly outdone himself; Michelle’s name gleamed in the sunlight, water lapping cheerily against the hull. 

“Welcome aboard,” Sam said, clearly pleased at the attention his boat was getting. 

“Looks like you’ve got everything here in ‘ship shape,’” Eric said, looking around to make sure everyone had heard him.

Deeks and Nell exchanged an amused look while Sam rolled his eyes. “Sam you’ve really done an amazing job,” Kensi said, setting her bag down on the deck. “I can’t believe you did all of this yourself.”

“More like he didn’t trust anybody else to do it,” Callen said knowingly.

“You want something done right, do it yourself,” Sam said.

“Is that a new addition to the SEAL Ethos?” Deeks asked with a smirk.

Sam glared at him while the others laughed. “So, are we casting off soon Skipper?” Eric asked.

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Skipper?”

“Skipper. You know.” Eric broke into song. “Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip.”

Deeks joined in. “That started from this tropic port aboard this tiny ship!”

“This boat is completely seaworthy,” Sam said calmly. “We’re not going to sink and land on some godforsaken island.”

“Although if we did, the Skipper here would know exactly how to survive,” Callen said, slapping him on the shoulder.

“All right,” Sam shook him off. “Enough jokes. Before we get underway we need to discuss safety regulations and procedures.”

“Sam we work for the Navy,” Kensi said with a snort. “I think most of us are clear on watercraft safety procedures.”

The amused looks all around suggested everyone else was thinking the same thing. He silenced them all with a patented Sam Hanna glare. “Life jackets are located in the wheelhouse. If there is a water emergency you should immediately don a flotation device.”

“I’m sorry, are you a boat captain or a flight attendant?” Deeks asked skeptically.

Another glare. “All garbage and recycling should be thrown in the proper receptacles located at the front and rear of the boat. There is no smoking—“

“No one here smokes,” Eric pointed out.

“No discharging of weapons on deck—“

“You would be the most likely to do that,” Nell said.

“No excessive inebriation—“

“And no fun!” Callen finished up for him. “Anchors away Skipper!”

Sam folded his arms across his chest. “You know if I’m the Skipper that makes you Gilligan.”

Callen thought for a moment and shrugged. “I can live with that.”

“Hey, Sam, before we cast off, do you have a fridge on this puppy for the beer?” Deeks held up the cooler he and Kensi had brought from the bar.

“That depends. Is it regular beer or some concoction the two of you made up full of snails and seaweed?” Sam asked.

Deeks looked at Callen. “Was that this batch?”

“No this one is blueberry and cayenne,” Callen said.

Nell eyed them both. “Sometimes I really wonder about you two.”

“Don’t we all,” Kensi said, nose wrinkling at the thought of trying yet another of her husband’s beer experiments.

“There’s one downstairs,” Sam said. “Get comfortable, we’re going out pretty far.”

They all waved goodbye to Otis and within thirty minutes the shoreline had disappeared. Sam took his time finding a good spot and dropped the anchor, coming out of the wheelhouse to get the fishing rods ready. 

Deeks whistled the Gilligan’s Island theme song as he baited his hook. “Stop with that song,” Sam said.

“What, were you more of a Brady Bunch fan?” Deeks asked. 

“I would bet Sam watched a lot of Bonanza,” Callen said.

“Really? I would have pegged him for a Dragnet guy,” Nell said from where she was laid out, sunning herself on the deck in a large hat and sunglasses. 

“Would you all stop it?” Sam asked, setting down the bait bucket. “I didn’t watch any of those shows.” He cast his line. “I watched The Munsters.”

“That explains a lot,” Kensi muttered.

“What could that possibly explain?” Sam asked. 

Eric inhaled deeply. “Gosh, just being out here, the salty air, the wind in the sails—“

“Not a sailboat,” Callen said with a shake of his head.

“—makes me feel like breaking out my tap shoes and doing a little number from ‘Anything Goes,” Eric said.

“You sure about that?” Deeks asked. “You’re looking a little pale there buddy.”

Indeed, Eric had lost what little color he had in his cheeks and upon close inspection seemed clammy. “No, nope, I’m great,” he insisted, gripping the rail a little tighter as the boat swayed on the waves.

“Babe you should put on some sunscreen,” Kensi said, pulling a tube out of her bag.

“Don’t need it!” Deeks said. “Too many hours surfing the waves. I’m like a golden god.”

Kensi sent him the bemused look that she saved especially for him. “Deeks put the sunscreen on.”

Everyone was distracted by a retching sound as Eric turned and began hurling his guts out over the side of the boat. “Whoa hey, not on the deck!” Sam said, jumping up and rushing over to make sure nothing marred the boat’s new paint job.

“Yikes, thar he blows,” Deeks said, giving Nell a low five of sea related humor as he walked by. 

“I don’t understand,” Eric said, coming up for air, eyes wild. “I took a dramamine.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes that doesn’t help out in the deep water,” Sam said, patting his back.

“I think I packed some of those pressure point bracelet things,” Kensi said, digging in her bag once again.

“Who are you today, Mary Poppins?” Callen asked.

“It’s always good to be prepared,” Kensi said, pulling a bracelet out of an inner zippered pouch and handing it over to Sam who shoved it onto Eric’s wrist as he began to heave again.

“Ooh I think I got one!” Deeks said, his line pulling down hard toward the water.

Callen anchored his own line and came to help, both of them pulling and tugging. “Holy Blackbeard what is it a Great White?” Deeks grunted as it nearly jerked out of his hands.

“Just keep pulling!” Callen said.

Without warning the line snapped sending both of them tumbling onto the deck in a heap. Callen landed on top of Deeks’ chest, the wind knocked out of both of them. “Well this is awkward,” Deeks said when he could breathe again.

“Geez Callen, Kensi is right here,” Nell said. 

“Yeah if you’re going to make a move you could at least do it somewhere private,” Kensi said, neither of them moving to help the guys up.

“Ha ha,” Callen said as he got to his feet and held out a hand to Deeks. “Sorry Deeks, looks like it’s the one that got away.”

“Like Carrie Jenkins,” Deeks said morosely, staring at the water.

“Who’s Carrie Jenkins?” Eric asked, popping his head up briefly.

“My third grade crush. She moved to Boise and I never heard from her again.”

“How tragic,” Kensi said with a roll of her eyes. 

“Um, hey guys?” Nell said, coming out of her seat, eyes focused on the horizon. “Is it just me or is that boat getting really close, really fast?”

Everyone’s eyes followed hers to see a rather large boat approaching as a fast clip. “Could just be somebody out for a joyride,” Callen said as Sam procured a pair of binoculars. 

“There’s been a pretty big increase in drug running up and down the coast in the last couple years,” Deeks said, coming to stand next to Sam. 

“Can you see anything?” Kensi asked.

Sam shook his head. “Not yet. But they’re moving pretty fast.”

He handed the binoculars to Callen. “I’m going to go blast the horn.”

“They’re not slowing down,” Nell said as Sam hit the horn three times. 

“No, they’re definitely not,” Callen said. 

If anything they seemed to be speeding up. The realization hit all of them at the same time, but it was Callen who managed to get the words out. “They’re going to ram us! Everybody down!” 

They all hit the deck and seconds later there was a bone shattering impact as the other boat clipped the bow. “Everybody all right?” Callen yelled, the waves rocking them so hard it seemed like they were in danger of capsizing.

“We’re good!” Deeks yelled back, an arm thrown over Kensi’s shoulders.

“Fine!” Nell yelled.

“I’m going to throw up again,” Eric moaned.

“Sam!” Callen started to scramble to his feet only to come back down again as the rapid staccato sound of gunfire burst through the air.

“What the hell is going on?!” Kensi cried.

“There are weapons in the hold,” Callen said. “Cabinet next to the fridge!”

“I’m on it!” Deeks called, crawling to the stairs. 

Gunfire continued to rain down on them and then there were several short bursts and Sam reappeared from the wheelhouse, Glock in hand. “Can we assume the ‘no firing weapons on deck’ rule is out the window?” Callen yelled.

Sam spared half a second to glare at him before letting off another round. Deeks reappeared and tossed weapons out to the rest of the team.

It seemed their added firepower was enough to run off their attackers because as fast as it had started it was over. The boat turned in the water, churning up massive waves in its wake as it sped away.

Things seemed deafeningly silent in the moments that followed. “Everybody good?” Sam called.

“Good,” they all chimed in one at a time.

“We need to call it in,” Nell said, her voice less than steady.

“I’m on it,” Callen said.

“I have to check for damage to the engine and see if we’re taking on water,” Sam said. Even he seemed unusually shaken. It was one thing to be shot at in the line of duty, it was another to be taken completely by surprise on your day off.

“I’ll come with you,” Deeks offered.

“We’ll bag up the brass out here,” Nell said. 

“There’s uh, there’s bags down in the kitchen,” Sam said. “Gloves in the drawer next to the stove.”

Eric made another gagging sound and Nell pulled a face, pushing him gently back to the railing. “Let’s try to barf away from the evidence, okay?”

[uglyorangejacket]

if there was a stanford flashback episode. what would you want from it. 💕

hiii sorry this took so long to answer i wanted to give a thoughtful response!!!

ok so like...a lot of what i’d like from a stanford ep could be satisfied with more references to that time in sam’s life honestly. for example, i’d love a jess that was more than just Hot Boobs Blonde Girlfriend, which could’ve been remedied at least in part with callbacks to things that she liked or stuff they did together, so idk maybe at that art museum with the haunted painting sam could’ve been like “jess would’ve loved this place” or something simple like that. maybe sam was a little too into a tv show that was on in the motel lobby and when dean is like “bro. seriously” he could be like “jess got me into it dude what can i say” and dean could pull some shit like “the things you do for wuvvv” idk they could make it funny they don’t even have to make it sad!!! just a lot of lost potential on that part.

my samjess indulgent side would’ve liked to have seen flashbacks where they had paint nights or fun dates relevant to the location (maybe there’s a hunt near/at the place where sam and jess went bowling with their group of friends) and we see sam kind of lose his footing a bit because the place reeks of nostalgia and an achy kind of grief where maybe he doesn’t cry about it but his body feels heavy when he thinks about the happy he had with his friends and jess, the happy he could’ve continued to have. maybe dean has an Oh Shit moment where he realizes stanford was a lot more than just school—it was a different LIFE sam has to mourn. maybe they get into an argument when sam’s reminisces about wherever they are and dean is like “i get it you had SUUUCHHHH a better life here without me” etc etc idk. they could’ve made it relevant to the show!!!! like i said just a lot of lost potential.

aside from jess and the stuff he used to do with her and his friends, i’d love to have seen an episode with flashbacks to his early days at stanford before he met brady and before he met jess. like...maybe they have a case at a college and they have to help some loner kid and the kid says a lot of things that sam felt and thought when he was first at stanford. i 100% think it would’ve taken time for him to get acclimated to the environment of Private School, especially because OK he didn’t have many (if any) friends in grade school or high school and he was always kinda the weird loner kid anyway. i’d like an episode that focuses on how he’d navigate the change of pace how maybe he tried too hard at first because GOD he was tired of being the weird kid!!!!!!!! he was tired of being alone!!!!!! but you know he’d try too hard and end up alone anyway. maybe he’s talking to this kid at the college where he’s hunting something and trying to relate to him about not fitting in at first but he tells him about how he was determined to make a life for himself and eventually he met brady and jess and the rest of their friends and everything turned out okay (well, for the most part). maybe sam gets this sad look in his eyes when the kid finally seems to get it and nod in understanding. we see him wish the kid luck on his journey and when sam gets back in the car dean is like “wanna talk about it?” or something and sam is like “you know it wasn’t always easy but i made it work.” he looks like he has more to say but stays quiet until dean is like, “he’s gonna be just fine.” and sam does his sad little nod and looks out the window and goes “yeah.” IDK!!!!!!

overall it would’ve been nice just to know what sam went through i guess. how he was. was he actually happier? was it a fake it till you make it situation? did he acclimate quickly? was he a loner for a while? how much of himself did he change to fit in? how much did he keep the same? what was his and brady’s relationship like? WHAT WAS JESS LIKE? all that jazz you know??

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Girl Next Door (Part 11) - Starry Night

Summary: Dean takes the reader out on a surprise date...

The Girl Next Door Masterlist

Pairing: Neighbor/Mechanic!Dean x baker!reader

Word Count: 5,800ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Enjoy!

Reader’s POV

You woke up warm, a blanket half draped over you. Fingers were playing in your hair and you tilted your head up, Dean laying beside you with his head propped up in his free hand.

“Good morning,” he said gently, giving you a kiss. “Sleep good?”

“Yeah,” you said, stretching out some, curling back onto your side and into his chest. He giggled, such a cute noise you lifted your head to find his face. “Your bedhead is amazing. It’s like a spiky little fluffy hedgehog climbed up there or something.”

“Oh. Well. If you want to talk bedhead,” he said, gaze darting around. “You are one to be saying something right now, sweetheart.”

He smiled and ran his thumb over a piece, that one piece that always stuck straight up somehow, smiling when it popped straight back up again.

“You’re a very good snuggler,” you said.

“It’s one of my many skills,” he teased. “I’m very good at being a big spoon and cuddling under blankets too.”

“Suddenly I wish it were winter,” you laughed. He chuckled as you sat up, watching you look around for your crutches. “Uh, Dean. Not to ruin the moment but I gotta use the bathroom.”

“Okay,” he said. You ran a hand over your face to wipe away the light blush, Dean sitting up and pulling you into his lap.

“I can walk Dean,” you laughed as he carried you into your bathroom.

“Yeah but this is faster. Shout if you need anything,” he said. He shut the door after himself and you got a few minutes alone, pushing open the door when you finished to find the bed made and your crutches up against the wall. You snagged them just as Dean came back in the room. “So I’ll let you get dressed and if you need help, Jack said he could since I don’t want to be seeing things you aren’t comfortable showing yet if that’s alright.”

“I’ll be fine,” you said. Jack popped around the corner and you asked him to grab a tank top from your closet. He pulled out a light orange colored Henley one. Normally you would have worn your favorite faded denim shorts with it but you were on loose clothing down there for the next little while.

You grabbed a pair of blue running shorts instead and a new pair of underwear and bra from your dresser before you sat back on the bed. Jack left and you could hear he and Dean talking farther down the hall. Surprisingly, getting your bottom half dressed was far easier than the top. You got your bra on decent enough but your side ached. Looking down, there was a large bruise, an ugly dark purple, running all along your left side. You took a deep breath and tugged on your tank top, laying back through gritted teeth when you finished.

“You doing okay in there? Sounds not fun,” called Dean.

“I’m okay. Pain meds wore off is all. You guys can come in,” you said. “Someone bring me Tylenol please.”

“Hey,” said Dean, stepping inside and helping you sit up. Jack ducked into your bathroom and exited with a bottle and glass of water. “Shouldn’t you take the medicine the doctor gave you?”

“It’s too strong. I don’t like it. This is fine,” you said, taking a pill. “I’ll take it slow for a few days.”

“Alright. You up for some breakfast?” asked Dean. You nodded, Dean kneeling down in front of you. “Climb on. Careful of that leg.”

“I know,” you said, getting on his back. Three minutes later you were set down in Sam’s kitchen, sniffing the air and getting a whiff of strawberries and cream. “Mmm. I should make some danishes this week.”

“You ain’t making nothing, sis,” said Jack, setting a glass down in front of you. “You’re off that leg all week.”

“I got orders to make up,” you said, pursing your lips until you stared at Sam who was rolling his eyes. “What?”

“Let us bake. I’m off babysitter duty and Dean’s going back part time everyday this week but he and Jack are home in the afternoon. We can help out,” said Sam.

“You’re not supposed to be working Sam,” you said.

“Well neither are you,” he said. “And it’s baking, not case law.”

“How about you two rest and you make up a list of what Jack and I need to make and then in the afternoon, we can do it, hm?” said Dean. “Sound good?”

“I got deliveries at noon tomorrow though,” you said, Sam sliding a waffle covered plate in front of you.

“We can make cookies today!” said Avy. Dean looked at you and you sighed, nodding your head.

“Alright but Jack is in charge since he’s been helping out a little in the afternoon’s,” you said.

“Perfect. This’ll be great.”

“Boys are silly,” said Avy as you hung out on your back porch later that day, drawing a few pictures with her.

“Oh yes they are,” you said.

“You know we can hear you two!” said Dean through your open back door. You laughed and reached up to open the door, poking your head in.

“While it was funny the first time, please don’t drop that bag of flour all over the floor too,” you said.

“We got it,” said Sam.

“I smell something burning,” said Avy.

“Did you boys set the timer to eleven minutes?” you asked with a hum.

“Yes...how long before they were in there when we did that?” asked Sam.

“New batch boys. I don’t sell burnt things,” you said.

“This is hard,” grumbled Sam as he stepped outside. “I’m playing the brain card and taking a break.”

“Help me up?” you asked, Sam lifting you to your feet when he came onto the back porch. “Thanks.”

You popped inside on one crutch, much easier to get around on in the house, Dean and Jack staring at the empty mixing bowl. You took a seat on one of the counter stools, Jack flicking his eyes in your direction. You let your own wander over to the directions you had printed in the binder, Dean scratching his head.

“Alright. Dean, you measure out everything. Jack, dump the old cookies and wash off the sheet carefully. I’ll walk you through it.”

“I’m exhausted,” said Dean, plopping down in a kitchen chair a few hours later, staring at the pink boxes you had stacked and ready to go. “It was only chocolate chip cookies too.”

“And it’s tiring work,” you said, Jack frosting a few of the sugar cookies you’d made. “Dean, you guys really don’t have to do this after work tomorrow. I can get around the kitchen pretty good. I-”

“You see what I’ve been dealing with my whole life?” said Jack, lifting up the cookie sheet, a pretty decent job if you had to say so. “Always been a perfectionist this one.”

“You do remember when I didn’t even exist to dad for like...years,” you said. “You were the golden child for quite a while.”

“I get the feeling your dad was a bit of a hard ass,” said Dean, leaning back in his seat. You shrugged, Jack doing the same.

“He loved us and I was very upset when he and mom died. We both were. Dad just wasn’t...affectionate really. He worked a lot. Valued intelligence,” said Jack.

“It wasn’t until I told him I wanted to be a neurosurgeon that he looked in my direction. Apparently I should have said I was going to be a doctor when I was four like Jack did and not fourteen,” you said.

“When’d you drop out of school, Jack?” asked Dean, a smile in his voice.

“After freshman year. I mean, I like school. I was good at it. It just...dad had my entire life planned out already. I had no say. I think I was more afraid of turning into him than anything,” said Jack.

“Yeah. I understand that,” said Dean, looking over his shoulder and back at Sam’s house, his parents car parked in the driveway. “So your mom raised you two? You’re both relatively normal human beings.”

“Yes and no,” you said, glancing to Jack. “Our mom…”

“Mom was the kind of woman that slept with the tennis instructor,” said Jack. “She you know, raised us and all that and made up for what dad didn’t do but if she had a date, she had a date. Mom and dad had a very...open relationship. Grandma watched us mostly until I got old enough to stay home with Y/N alone.”

“Wow. We’re the freaking Brady bunch compared to your family,” said Dean.

“They were never cruel or unkind. Very focused on their goals was all, whether that was a job or men or whatever,” you said.

“So when I decide to not have a life plan, it sort of made them both tailspin,” said Jack.

“Still. It’s your life. Not theirs,” said Dean, twitching up his lip in a smile. “I’ll be back over in a few minutes if that’s alright. I want to say hey to my parents before they head home.”

“Dean,” you said. He stopped on the way to the door. “Tell them thank you for bringing dinner by for us tonight. I appreciate that.”

“I’ll be back soon,” he said. The house was quiet once he left, Jack finishing up the last few cookies, packing them neatly in a box. He tucked them all away in the overnight storage area, washing up a few things before he started to dry off his hands.

“Jack,” you said, Jack tossing down a towel on the counter. “Do you still paint?”

“I haven’t painted in a long long time,” he said.

“Would you paint something for the house? Maybe something for the front entrance. That wall where the little table is?” you asked.

“I can do that. What are you looking for?” he asked.

“Surprise me?”

“Dad always thought it was a stupid hobby.”

“Dad thought baking was a stupid hobby too. I love dad, Jack. I do. I love mom too. But they’re gone. I’m never going to call you a failure because you don’t want to be a workaholic asshole doctor like he was that barely noticed his own children. Dean’s got a point. These are our lives, Jack. We can do what we want with them. If you want to work in the garage the rest of your life, shit you want to go be a barista, mulch yards, go paint, I don’t care. I want us both to be happy and...I’m really starting to feel happy, Jack. For the first time. You seem more like yourself again too. Mom and dad wasn’t your fault. Whatever happened at that Bryerwood place wasn’t your fault. I almost died two days ago, Jack. It was close, closer than Sam and I made it sound. I just want you to know that if something happened to me, I’m really happy you’re my brother and I love you and you better go and get your ass over to the Winchesters because you’ll be a hot mess and they’ll take care of you, alright?”

“You still love me?” he asked.

“Yeah. I do,” you said. “I’m sorry if you felt like I didn’t.”

“You gave me a second chance. I already knew. It’s nice to hear it is all,” he said.

“How can I not love my big brother?” you teased.

“I love you too,” he said. He stepped over and gave you a hug, the door opening and closing, your head turning to give Dean a smile and an aw.

“Was there a moment?” he smirked.

“Moment’s done,” said Jack. “I’m going to shower and crash. I’m beat.”

“Alright. Get some sleep, Jackie,” you said.

“Night, puppy,” he said.

“Puppy?” asked Dean.

“He wanted a puppy when my mom was pregnant. He thought he was getting a puppy, not a little sister,” you said. “He was only like two so you gotta give him some slack.”

“I thought Sammy was going to be a watermelon,” said Dean. “Mom’s stomach got huge.”

“I bet. He was probably a big baby. Do you mind locking up the front door?” you asked, starting to head for the stairs. “If you’re staying over that is.”

“Would you like me to stay?” he asked, holding up a backpack. “Whatever you want is fine with me.”

“What are you comfortable with?” you asked.

“Oh my god. You two are disgusting,” called Jack from the upstairs balcony. “Just stay over, dumbass.”

“I think I liked you better when you were antsy, you know!” shouted back Dean. “Kids these days, I swear.”

“What are you, a thousand?” said Jack. “I’m only five years younger.”

“Excuse me, sweetheart,” said Dean with a smirk after locking the back door. “I have to go give your big brother a reason why he should be grateful he doesn’t have one of his own.”

“Dean’s coming to destroy you, just an fyi,” you said as you looked upwards, Dean jogging past you and up the stairs, Jack’s feet pounding but you heard a thud and pair of laugh’s coming from the hall. “Avy you were right. Boys are silly.”

Monday Morning

“Hi girlie,” you said, smiling when Eileen stepped inside the house.

“Could you guys like, stop dying, please. This is too stressful for me,” she said, setting her bag down by the door. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, Eileen raising an eyebrow. “Yes, Nurse Lehay, I’m fine.”

“You staying off that leg?” she said, throwing an arm under your shoulder. You hummed as she helped you upstairs and to your room, setting you down on your bathroom bench.

“I forgot how strong you get lugging around bodies all day,” you said.

“Says the chick picking up all those sacks of flour and sugar all day long,” she said, going to your shower and turning it on. She stared at you a moment and you sighed. “Y/N, we were roommates. How many times have I seen you naked?”

“I know. Just...don’t freak on me,” you said.

“I’m a nurse. It takes a lot to freak me out,” she said. You peeled off your shirt, Eileen closing her eyes.

“Totally not noticeable, right?” you said.

“That is a nasty bruise,” she said, kneeling beside you. You took off your bra and covered your chest with an arm, letting her get a better look. “Well, it ain’t pretty but there are signs of healing. I’m shocked you didn’t break any of these ribs. Must have eaten your wheaties that day.”

“Sam grabbed the wheel and turned it. He was looking that direction thankfully. I don’t think I’d be walking if he hadn’t,” you said. “Or breathing.”

“You never know with car accidents. Sometimes they’re bad, sometimes you walk away with only a few scratches,” she said. “Alright. First we get you in the shower and then I can put on a new bandage for you.”

“I wish all patients were like you,” teased Eileen after your shower and you were dressed on the bed. “You know how uncomfortable all the bending is.”

“I have tweaked my back changing bandages on people so many times,” you said, lowering your leg back to the bed. “So you officially done with Mr. Winchester next door?”

“Nursing, yes. Other aspects are...starting up,” she said with a smile.

“Sam’s a good guy, Eileen,” you said. “He likes you. You got to be pretty special for Sam Winchester to like you.”

“I know. I totally broke all the rules with him but...he’s sweet. We’re going out tonight,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “You and Dean doing anything fun?”

“Babysitting Avy with him and my brother?” you laughed. “I’m sure I’m in for a thrilling night myself.”

You were a little surprised when Sam dropped Avy off himself at your house that night. You were more surprised when Jack said he was watching her that night.

“Avy, why don’t you go help Y/N pick out a dress?” asked Sam. She took your hand and with a little help from Jack, you were upstairs, standing in front of your closet.

“What about this one?” asked Avy. You laughed and shook your head.

“That was my prom dress, Avy. I don’t know why I even have that still. How about one of those light summer ones on the end?”

She pursed her lips and stood in front of the three of them, two you’d never even worn beside the store. She pointed at the white one with little flowers on it, the tag still hanging on it.

“I think we got a winner,” you said. “Can you get up on your tiptoes and take it off the rack for me?”

“Here you go,” she said, handing it over. You ripped off the tags and dropped them in the garbage. “Mommy had a dress like that.”

“She did? Do you remember doing stuff with your mom?” you asked, Avy hopping into the bedroom while you changed in the closet.

“Not really. I know she was nice and daddy loved her and I loved her though. He used to be really quiet after she died, like at nighttime,” she said. “Uncle Dean lived with us for a while when I was really little.”

“You know Avy, my and Jack’s mom died too, and our dad,” you said, stepping out into the room, taking a seat on the bench. “If you ever want to talk about that stuff, we understand how it can feel funny.”

“Daddy talks about mommy a lot since his accident. But happy now if that makes sense,” she said.

“It does. Did your daddy talk to you about Eileen?”

“Mhm. I like her. She makes daddy happy and she’s gonna take me and him to the zoo on Saturday!” she said.

“Well Eileen’s been my friend for a while and I know you guys are gonna get along great,” you said. “Would you mind grabbing my crutch over there?”

“Mhm. I told daddy to stop getting in car accidents,” she said as she handed it to you and you stood up.

“I second that,” you said, smiling at her and twirling the bottom of your dress. “What do you think? Look good?”

“Uh huh. Uncle Dean will like that,” she said.

“I bet he will,” you said. “You have fun with Jack tonight. Beat him in Mario Kart for me.”

“Okey dokey,” she said. You laughed and headed out of the room, managing the stairs with Jack’s help.

Sam said goodbye to Avy before he left and you sat out on the front porch, smirking as you saw Dean slip out of Baby he’d parked out front. He was wearing a light red flannel, gray tee and some faded jeans, hands behind his back as he wandered up the driveway.

“Well who told you you were allowed to be that beautiful?” he said. You bit down your smile, Dean hopping onto the porch, bending down to deliver a kiss. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you said, Dean pulling you to your feet and picking you up. “Can I keep you?”

“Please do,” he said, laughing as he got you settled into Baby, your crutches in the back.

“So where are you taking me all dolled up like this?” you asked.

“It's a surprise,” he said, bopping you on the nose. “You just sit back, relax, and let me take care of everything.”

Dean smiled and turned on the radio, backing out of the driveway and heading down the street, driving until you hit some back roads and you started to hit true farm country. He had the window down, singing along to one of the songs, tufts of soft hair moving in the wind. You took a quick picture, smiling before you set your phone back in your lap.

“Dean?”

“Hm?”

“You look so happy,” you said.

“I got my girl. I got my Baby. I got some tunes on a perfect summer night. I’m the happiest guy in the world, sweetheart,” he said.

“So what’s my surprise?” you asked, Dean shaking his head.

“Nope. I’m not telling. You just hold tight for a hot minute,” he said. You went along with him, Dean pulling off on a random dirt road between two fields, driving slowly as the sun started to set, the sky a brilliant orange and pink. He drove for only a minute and he drove onto the grass, pulling to a stop. “We’re here.”

“Middle of nowhere? We sure are,” you laughed.

“Oh but my lady, you are at the most exclusive locale in the world,” he said, grinning ear to ear. “Out of the car with you.”

He hopped out and had you sit on the hood, humming while he grabbed some things out of the trunk.

“Don’t you dare turn around on me,” he warned, a lot of thudding and dropping going on behind you.

“Or what?” you laughed.

“Or...shut up,” he said, chuckling to himself. He worked for a few more minutes, as you watched the sun dip lower, Dean suddenly in front of you. “Trust me?”

“Definitely.”

He smiled and picked you up, your arms going around his shoulders.

“Close your eyes for me, Y/N. We aren’t going far,” he said. You did as told, Dean walking the two of you around to the other end. “I’m gonna set you down and spin you the other way. Keep ‘em closed and hold onto my shoulders, okay?”

“Okay,” you said. You felt your feet touch the ground, Dean sliding around to your bad leg, wrapping an arm around your waist to help keep the weight off of it.

“Alright. You can open now.”

You blinked a few times, turning your head up to look at him, giving him a side hug.

He had a cooler set down near a log, a blanket spread out on the ground and a tasty looking meal set out for you on top of it. There was a fire going just off to the side and you had no idea where he even got the wood from to start it.

“As I said, very exclusive place,” he said.

“I love it,” you said. You took a seat on the blanket, Dean grabbing you each a drink for your dinner. It was a homemade meal but delicious, Dean spending more time looking at you than paying his food any attention. He held up a finger and got up, turning on the radio in Baby, quiet music filtering over to where you sat.

When you finished, he pulled the blanket over to the fire, laying on top of it and back against the log, tucking you into his side.

“The stars are starting to come out,” you said, the sun long gone below the horizon.

“Yeah,” said Dean softly. “You can see a lot of them out here. Away from town.”

“Would you want to go on a weekend trip sometime? Once my leg is better,” you said. “Just us?”

“I would love that,” he said, kissing your cheek. “We could even take a few days more if you wanted.”

“Where do you want to go? The beach? Camping?” you asked.

“As long as I don’t have to fly, I’m all ears,” he said.

“Anywhere you’ve ever wanted to go and haven’t?”

“I just had the stupidest idea,” he said as he grinned.

“Hit me with it,” you said, watching a few flames.

“Road trip. A food road trip. We hit up some of the best barbecue places in the country. Texas, Georgia,Tennessee. It could be fun,” he said. “But like I said, it’s really stupid.”

You sat up, staring at him before you whacked him in the arm.

“That’s the best idea ever! Hell yeah we’re doing that!” you said. “That’ll be so much fun!”

“Really?” he said. You nodded, Dean smiling to himself. “Well I say we got ourselves a little road trip soon then.”

“Awesome. It’ll give me something to look forward to besides tossing that stupid crutch in the trash,” you said, Dean pulling you back to his chest.

“Hey, it’s not all that bad. I got plenty of excuses to give you piggyback rides now,” he said, resting his head against the top of yours. “How’s your side feeling today?”

“Sore still but I’ll survive. You’re very comfy,” you said.

“You’re very beautiful,” he said, your bandage peeking out from the bottom of your dress, Dean’s finger trailing over the edge of it. “Y/N. This thing we have going on...this relationship...it means a lot to me.”

“Me too. This isn’t a fling for me, Dean,” you said, tilting your head up with a smile.

“I know, sweetheart,” he said, moving his hand, finding your own to play with. “It’s not for me either. But I’m falling. I’m falling so damn fast and it feels...different. I was a wreck at the hospital after your accident. I snuck outside and...that was the second time in as many months that I thought someone I care about wasn’t walking out of that place. I bawled like a baby, Y/N. I thought how dare you just come into my life and make me feel happy and like it’s okay for someone else to take care of me for the first time and then you were almost out of it. Not to mention what you did for Sammy. Sure it was a gut reaction but somewhere in that head of yours you care enough to keep him safe. I guess I’m rambling and I’ll deny I ever said any of that but...you’re important to me. God, I hope you know what that means to me,” he said. You smiled and nodded, giving him a kiss.

“I do,” you said, barely above a whisper, the fire crackling in front of you. “I have something to admit.”

“What?” he breathed out.

“See, I’m falling too. It feels like I forget to breathe sometimes when I think about it. But as long as we’re both falling...maybe we’ll be lucky enough to hit the ground together,” you said.

“If we’re lucky,” he said with a small nod. “I really hope we get lucky. We’re due for some good luck.”

“I think we might get lucky,” you said, staring up at him, big green eyes staring back. “You gotta stop doing that.”

“Doing what, sweetheart?”

“Making me forget to breathe,” you said.

“S’only fair. My stomach’s been doing flips from the second I met you,” he said, eyes darting around your face. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Good. I was running out of metaphors,” you said. Dean lay you back against the ground, laying on his side before he cupped your cheek, kissing you softly, making a lazy game out of it.

You arched up into it, rolling to your bad side when pain shot through it. You hissed and rolled back, Dean pressing a finger to your lips.

“Stay,” he said, kissing you again, still slow, still sweet. He lay his arm out so you could rest your head on it, his other hand touching your face, mapping out lines and curves. You let yourself do the same, feel the scruff on his cheeks, the hard set jaw that was relaxed right now, dance over the freckles adorning his skin.

Your hand wandered to the back of his neck and to his hair. His hair was always so soft, little spikes sticking up, little tufts forming that made him even more gorgeous.

Anyone that ever thought he was stupid or not good enough had to have been nuts.

Dean pulled back, his face flush, a few big breaths leaving him and fanning over your face. He smiled goofily and you took the opportunity to nuzzle a finger under his chin, Dean curling his head into it.

“Tickles,” he mumbled, your finger trailing down to his collar, dipping in the hollow of the bone. “Y/N.”

“Sorry,” you said, moving your arm over his waist instead.

“You like me for me,” he said. There wasn’t a question in there so you didn’t say anything, Dean moving a few strands of your hair around. “Can I tell you something, something no one else knows? Even Sammy doesn’t know.”

“Yeah. I won’t tell,” you said. He smiled and looked behind you at the fire, up at the dark sky and the bright stars that were peeking out. Finally he settled his gaze back on your face, a shy look there.

“Last week I applied to this mechanic training program in Kansas City. Just outside the city actually. It’s for...it teaches more stuff, more foreign cars, high end cars, motorcycles. Stuff that Bobby never knew about, none of the guys at the shop do. It’d really help the business grow. I uh...I got in,” he said, biting his bottom lip. “I wanted to tell you on our date on Friday but that obviously didn’t happen.”

“You did? That’s great, Dean! I’m so proud of you,” you said, tucking in closer to give him a hug.

“I...I did good on the test and...I got a scholarship for it. It’s only be for like the fall and in the afternoons but...yeah,” he said with a smile. You sat up, ignoring the pain in your side at the sudden movement.

“I am so happy for you,” you said, giving him a bigger hug and kiss when he leaned up. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah. Nervous. Been awhile since I was in school. All these other guys are gonna be like straight out of high school,” he said, his cheeks pink for a few seconds.

“Well you have a ton of experience and you’re so smart. You’re gonna do great. If you have tests, I can help you study or-“

“I know, honey. You know, I’ve wanted to apply for years now. Always thought I wasn’t good enough. But you never believed that,” he said, shrugging his shoulder. “I thought...maybe you were right and so I put in for it...thank you, sweetheart.”

“You are more than good enough, for whatever you want to do or try,” you said. Dean rested his forehead against your own. “You got that, Winchester?”

“I got it,” he laughed. “I’d hate to get on your bad side after all.”

“You’re never getting on my bad side,” you said, bumping your nose to his. “I think you should tell Sam and everyone, let them know you got in.”

“It’s not like I got into Stanford,” he said, looking down.

“Dean,” you said, lifting your head, Dean’s moving with it, the two of you slowly peeling apart, the flames behind you lighting up his face. “You did something for you. You put yourself first for the first time since I’ve met you. I know that is not something you do very often. I want to celebrate this, celebrate you.”

“These have been the worst few months of my life, but also the best.”

“You gave me back my brother,” you said. “That alone is...then I get you and...do you remember that morning in my kitchen when Jack showed up that day?” Dean nodded, reaching towards your lap and taking your hands in his.

“You said you were lonely in that house. You’ve been lonely for a long time, haven’t you,” he said.

“I don’t feel so lonely anymore. I’m over Sam’s everyday, always with someone it seems. I still like my quiet time, like you, but it’s refreshing now,” you said. “Not so...unwanted.”

“Good. You’re gonna make a baker out of that boy,” said Dean. “Sammy always did like making cookies with mom.”

“What’s your favorite kind of pie, Dean?” you asked.

“Cherry. You are very much wanted too, sweetheart,” he said, carefully sliding you to sit in his lap.

“Well tomorrow I am making you a cherry pie for getting into your school and for being arguably the best neighbor I’ve ever had,” you said, tossing your arms over his shoulders.

“Was that all it took?” he teased.

“Dean?”

“Y/N.”

“I want to kiss you again,” you said.

“Please do,” he said, laying the both of you down again. “You’re always welcome to do that.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, your eyes blinking open as you felt yourself be set down on your bed hours later. “Don’t wake up. I’m just gonna take off your sneakers and get you covered up, okay?”

“We’re home?” you mumbled.

“Yeah. You kept insisting we stay but I got work and you need a proper bed to rest in,” he said, your shoes falling to the floor. You shut your eyes and felt a light blanket come over you. Something moved your hair and Dean pulled it out of the loose pony it’d been in.

“Sleep tight, sweetheart,” he said, kissing your temple.

You were out before he even had a chance to turn off the light.

A/N: Read Part 12 here!

[bestest-moved]

@lawatsakil​ asked: how does seth cope with killing riley and helping kill victoria?

         i see this question, and i raise you the whole damn scene + the aftermath.                                    you better hold on tight, spider-monkeys. 

Alright, so. I’m gonna start from before the fight even happens. Earlier in the movie, Jacob talks about Seth changing along with Leah, and the fact that the pack keeps him home studying instead of out with the rest of the group. At that point, he’s the youngest member of the pack ( Collin and Brady join in BD I think? ), and they’re trying to keep him focused on his studies to preserve his future. They don’t want to put him in danger, and that extends into his assignment in the fight. 

He’s used as a messenger, running all the way up the mountainside to tell Edward and Bella that the fight’s starting. Seth is still eager to help out, feeling like that’s the chance to prove to Sam and the others that he can handle his own, and really be a part of the pack instead of someone to just sit on the bench. But yeah, they put him all the way up there, not expecting him to get into any danger. 

Also, important note for later: he’s too far away to really hear the rest of the pack’s thoughts, or broadcast his own to them.

Victoria and Riley weren’t supposed to catch onto Edward’s scent and figure out the plan, but they do. Seth stays with them, just out of sight, hidden right behind the tree line. He stays there and waits, listening to the conversation between Edward, Riley, and Victoria. He feels the instinctual urge to attack Riley, but he’s also listening to Edward try to reason with him. Riley’s a local kid, from Forks. He’s young, and was clearly manipulated in some way by Victoria. He gets flashbacks to the training scene, where he’d decided so quickly that the Cullens weren’t bad ( there’s also the fact that they drink animal blood and not human blood, which renders them as less of a threat, which doesn’t make him as uneasy around them than vampires like Riley / Victoria but that’s a thing for another time! ), and he can feel that pull about Riley, too. That hope-filled side of him, thinking perhaps there’s more to this than he thought.

All of that ends when Riley actually lunges towards them. It’s instantaneous, he doesn’t even move a foot before Seth jumps out from behind the hill, grabbing and attacking him in a way that nobody’s ever seen before. There’s a mix of the instinctual need to protect and the fact that, at that point, he’d already considered Bella and Edward close friends. There’s double the motivation, and so he starts trying to rip him to shreds. 

He only gets distracted once Edward starts struggling with Victoria, which gives Riley the chance to get the upper hand and kick his head into the rock. Seth lets out a cry and lies there, moving every once in a while. He’s not completely passed out, but really disoriented. He moves again once Bella dashes for the rock, remembering the story they’d both heard. He doesn’t have to read her mind to know exactly what she was planning. She makes the cut against her arm, and just like the story of the third wife, all three vampires get distracted. He goes in for the kill, dragging him behind the hill as he continues to scream for Victoria. He’s still wrapped up on adrenaline, so he’s able to finish the job and kill him. He comes back as soon as Edward kills Victoria, and that snarl that comes out of his mouth is his way of telling both of them that he did it. 

Edward then reads Alice’s mind, and they figure out that something’s wrong. They go back down the mountain, and Seth isn’t on screen anymore. For the sake of me needing to know, he’s doing one last perimeter run, making sure that no newborns were sneaking off towards Forks. He comes back right as the pack starts carrying the injured Jacob back to Billy’s, and before he can shift back and ask what happened, Sam tells him to run ahead and warn Billy and Sue. He sprints over there, and he’s the one that has to break the news about what happened. He struggles shifting back for a couple minutes, just because of all the emotions flooding through him. It feels familiar, the same panic that he’d felt during the night of his first shift, when he’d watched his father die after Leah shifted for the first time. He doesn’t even want to think about the possibility of losing his brother, too. He’s eventually able to calm himself down enough to shift, and he tells Billy who immediately calls Seth’s mom, knowing they’re going to need all of the help they can get. 

He’s standing outside of Jacob’s house as Carlisle’s re-breaking his bones, standing next to Embry and Quil. Seth can’t even look at anybody, staring at the gravel on the ground and wincing every time Jacob screams. His head whips up as soon as Carlisle walks outside, and he stays out there with the others for the rest of the night. 

Also, it’s outside the house that he figures out that it was Leah that Jacob was protecting. The fact that his sister could have died if Jacob hadn’t stepped in only adds more unease to the whole thing. And if she had died, he wouldn’t have been able to do anything as he didn’t arrive until after Jacob stepped in and saved her. 

He doesn’t talk about what he did on the mountaintop, and the killing doesn’t really hit him until after Jacob’s in a stable condition. Because they remain in their human form for the rest of the night, nobody can read his thoughts. If they bring it up or ask about it, he deflects it. Nobody really pries because they’re all worried about Jacob, so he doesn’t have to try that hard. Since they were too far for the pack telepathy to kick in, the only people that know that Seth killed Riley are himself, Bella, and Edward.

As for how he copes? For the first part of it, it’s mainly denial. The rest of the pack finds out as soon as they all shift again, because he’s still thinking about it. He says that he didn’t tell them because he didn’t think it was that important, that Jacob’s incident was much more urgent than Seth’s first kill, especially since the rest of them had killed multiple people. He thinks he’s supposed to be used to it, that it’s a normal occurrence. 

It keeps him up for a while, which is a concern in itself because he’s always been known as the kid that could sleep through anything. He sleeps through thunderstorms and has no idea they happened the next morning - it’s a running joke in the pack and in his family. After the incident, he struggles with nightmares for a while. He hears Riley screaming out for Victoria, and then Jacob screaming right after. They sound almost the same - full of pain - and he finds himself questioning Riley’s humanity because of it. Wondering why he didn’t hesitate, and if he should have like he did with the Cullens. 

Eventually, he talks to Jacob and Leah about it, fully allowing himself to open up and share how everything made him feel. He knows that it was the right thing to do - if he hadn’t steeped in, Edward and Bella could have died. He doesn’t regret stopping him, and would do it again in a heartbeat if he had to, but it’s still hard for him to wrap his head around. 

He’d been asking to prove himself to the pack for months; to get out and get a real taste of the danger that came with protecting his people, but he hadn’t meant for his chance to appear the way it did.

[themaskedwriter]

Cutting it Close

Clues: I like to ‘do things’ ‘in the wild’, like surround myself with rainbow people! If I’m not writing I’m hosting yet another session of Dungeons and Dragons or taking care of My Drunk Roommate.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Platonic! Tony Stark x Reader, Platonic! Sam Wilson x Reader, Platonic! Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 6k Warnings: Fluff all the way through

Summary: When you moved out to New York to escape a relationship and humdrum life, you had planned on getting a job working at a salon or barber shop. What you hadn’t planned on was getting a job at a barber shop at the foot of Avengers Tower and becoming the go-to for most of the team. You also hadn’t expected to catch the attention of Captain America’s baby blue eyes.

It was hard proving yourself as anything in New York City, the sprawling metropolis acting as the East Coast’s version of Los Angeles. Actors working as waitresses during the night so they could audition at Broadway and smaller theatre companies during the day, fashion designers swamping Mood fabrics with a raw hope of running into Tim Gunn and a camera crew; script writers, models, business start ups, writers, everyone swarmed this city. That didn’t even count the people who had grown up in this bustling nonsense and didn’t have the common sense to leave.

“I just don’t know how anyone can even afford to live in Brooklyn,” I lamented to my client as I raked a comb through the top of his hair.

The pompadour was back in style, high and tight shave on the sides with long sweeping locks on top held in place with way too much pomade. The only problem was guys these days didn’t want to have to put too much effort into styling their hair like they did back in the forties and fifties, hyper masculinity creeping in from the sixties and seventies when all the men wore their hair short and sensible following Korea and Vietnam.

“Unless you grew up there and have rent lock, you don’t,” the man laughed flipping a page of the newspaper he was reading.

Getting a job even working as a barber had been hard, most stylist and barbers out here got their license and job through apprenticing under an established owner and then received their job security that way. But I had to get as far away from my asshole ex as possible and there was no easier place to get lost than in a city that already had far too many people. I had gone into a lot of salons before finally a barber who was getting up there in age and low on staff decided to take a risk on a girl from some backwoods state.

“So where did you find to stay?” He asked in the sense that he didn’t care, he had just run out of small talk as I drug the straight razor along his nape to sharpen his outline.

“Small place in Greenwich Village. It seems like a good neighborhood so far,” I responded cheerily. I didn’t mention how every appliance I had didn’t seem to work, including my radiator which was starting to be more of a concern as the temperatures dropped. He didn’t want to hear my problems and I didn’t want him to think I was fishing for a larger tip. “All set, Mr. Conroy.”

I moved the mirror around behind him so he could look at the large one in front of him and see the back of his head to affirm that the neckline looked good and his cowlick was manageable. Paying his forty dollars for his cut and leaving me a five, I still managed to sell him a puck of the pomade I used before wishing him a good rest of his day and turning to clean up my station.

It was just me today, the rest of the boys who worked here had stayed out late for the Superbowl celebrations, rooting against Tom Brady and then having to drink their disappointment away had taken a lot out of them. I didn’t look up as the bell above the door tinkled, focusing instead on trying to sweep all the hair shavings into the bin.

“Hi there, just a moment please!” I called out over my shoulder as I rushed to toss the dirty towels in the hamper and grab some clean ones.

“Take your time, ma’am,” came the polite response, something that was a rarity in the sprawling metropolis.

Finally turning I stopped dead in my tracks as I stared up at a shaggy, but beautiful Captain America. I was not prepared for this, people in New York saw The Avengers out and about all the time. Getting coffee, coming in and out of the tower down the street for meetings, grabbing lunch. I, however, was not prepared in the slightest. I assumed they had their own people for their personal upkeep.

“Do you have any openings for a shave and a cut?” the Captain asked hesitantly after I gawked at him for probably an inappropriate amount of time.

“Uh, yes! Yes, sir! Come on back with me,” I ushered to my barber chair and underneath the thick tawny beard I could detect a hint of a rosy flush.

“Steve is just fine, ma’am.” He insisted and I managed to flash a smile.

“Well, Y/N is just fine for me.”

Steve settled in and I flared a cape around his broad shoulders and clasped it behind his neck. I ran my finger between the neck of the cape and his skin, like standard and ignored the shiver that passed down his spine.

“Is this too tight?” I asked habitually and he shook his head.

“No,” he answered softly as I ran my fingers through his long golden locks, pulling them horizontally from the ridge of his head so I could get an accurate idea of how long it was.

“What are we thinking today, Steve?”

“Well, um, I have to do press related stuff again so I need to get rid of all of it. Tony gave me an electric razor, but it got caught,” Steve lifted his chin to show where underneath there was a patch of what started as a clean shear to then looking a little mangled.

I giggled and nodded trying not to freak out that Captain freaking America was talking to me so flippantly about who could only be Tony Stark. “Well, at least you started underneath. Do you style your hair at all when it’s short?” Grabbing my clippers I slip a half inch guard on it and start running it up the back of his head, tossing the shaved parts off to the side.

“Sometimes I’ll use a little grease to spike the front. Sam says it’ll help with ‘the ladies’, Buck says it stops me from twitching it out of my eyes all the time like I did as a kid when we couldn’t afford to cut it.”

It’s strange, the raw brutal honesty that people speak to their hairdressers with. It’s something I’ve long become accustom too. Women have said they’ve had easier times leaving their husband than their hairdresser, but the men are the most loyal. They’re in every four weeks like clockwork and I selfishly hoped that Steve wouldn’t be any different.

A comfortable silence fell over us as I worked, blending his sides into his top as my shears snipped inches of rough and damaged ends off onto the linoleum floor. When I finished with his haircut I held up my hand mirror behind him like I always do.

“How’s this feel?” I ask and his runs his large hands through his hair.

“Wow, it looks exactly like I used to have it cut back in the day,” Steve admired, now looking more hipster than hobo since I hadn’t gotten around to his scruffy beard.

“Well, I cheated and used a reference picture,” I snickered and pointed to the far wall where Steve, Tony, Natasha, Clint, Thor, and Bruce all stood for a photo op after saving New York from hordes of aliens.

“Oh, god, I forget how many places around here have that dumb article hanging on their walls,” Steve grumbled, sobering instantly.

I bit my lip and mixed up the shaving cream. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not from New York so I don’t think you’re all that impressive.” It was supposed to come across as teasing, but my tone fell flat and I instantly flushed hoping that I didn’t insult him.

Steve blinked his impossibly blue eyes at me a few times before breaking out into one of the most genuine, gut shaking, laughs I’ve ever heard. His right hand reached up to clutch at his heart, or grab his boob, I wasn’t really sure, and he doubled over in his seat. When he finally got control of himself he had to wipe a tear from his eye and he looked up at me with sparkling eyes and a wide smile.

“I cannot tell you how happy I am to hear that,” he wheezed and settled himself back into the chair so I could spread the shaving cream on his cheeks and chin.

I laughed softly and sucked my lips in, showing him to mimic, and when he did I spread the cream over his upper lip. Clipping the sharpening leather around my hip, I pulled out a worn leather pouch and flipped it open, the silver straight razors gleaming in the sunlight. Pulling one out I flipped it open, palming the ivory handle tightly as I drug the steel across his cheeks, scraping and sloughing off the coarse hair.

“I haven’t had this done since before the war,” Steve muttered carefully.

“Which one?” I asked, trying not to get overwhelmed by the spice of his cologne that was now assaulting me since I was so close.

“Oh, you know, just the big one,” he responded cheekily, letting me tilt his jaw up so I could carve around the sharp bone and down his throat.

“You’re awful trusting for someone who’s been in so many that they have big ones and little ones.”

“Yeah, well, if you see everyone as an enemy you wouldn’t get to meet pretty girls who told you weren’t all that impressive.”

I feel my cheeks burn and I can’t help the goofy smile on my face as I move to his chin, biting down on my bottom lip to get him to protrude the little baby beard under his plump bottom lip.

“Doc usually kicks out guys who try to woo me, you know,” I warn, the teasing tone of my voice working this time.

Steve tries to restrain the smile that wants to take over his face and crinkle the space I was shaving. “I’ll have to keep it to myself then when he’s around.”

By the time I finished shaving Steve and wiping the cream off his face with a warm towel he looked twenty years younger. Steve rubbed his large hand over his jaw as I removed the cape from around his neck.

“I feel like I lost ten pounds,” he joked and I looked down at the floor with all the hair at my feet.

“I could probably make a small dog out of that,” I joked back and immediately swept it into a dust bin. “I’m not going to come get mobbed for Captain America’s hair clippings, am I?”

Steve winced and pulled out his wallet. “God, I hope not.” He laughed and handed me a hundred dollar bill.

“I’ll get your change,” I commented and went over to the till.

“No, it’s all yours. You earned it,” Steve insisted.

“Steve, that’s like forty dollars for a tip,” I said in shock still holding out the bill.

“Thanks again, Y/N!” he beamed and threw on his jacket before backing out of the shop with a wave before I could make him take his money back.

It had been a few days since Steve had been in, the boys didn’t believe me at first so Doc had pulled up the security camera footage. They all bitched and moaned about how they missed speaking to Captain America and shaking his hand and bro-ing over whatever bros broed about before Doc erased the footage.

“Don’t trust them paparazzi sort. If the Captain wants to use us as his shop, we keep it to ourselves,” the old marine barked, causing the shop boys to quiet down and nod in agreement.

The day had been typical, a few fades, a shave or two, and the business man who came in once a week to see me for barely a trim just so he could have a girl wash his hair. He was lonely, but nice, and tipped well so I kept taking him.

Just as Doc was sending me home the door opened with it’s pleasant chime and the whole shop went quiet. I turned to look over my shoulder to see Tony Stark standing there, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt under his suit jacket and examining the humble little corner shop.

“Mister Stark,” Doc greeted walking forward to shake the man’s hand. “What a pleasure. How can I help you today?”

“I am actually looking for Y/N. Our resident star spangled man couldn’t stop talking about what a great job she did after my electric razor apparently nearly zapped his face off. Thought I’d see what all the fuss was about,” Tony explained looking passed the old owner and spotting me by my station.

“I can take you now if you’d like, Mister Stark,” I offered, slipping my jacket back off and hanging it on the hook, trying not to show how nervous I was.

I wasn’t nervous because it was Iron Man, Iron Man always had a mask on. Tony Stark, however, was on the front cover of most magazines, and headlining the evening news, and a prominent figure in the community. Tony Stark’s haircut and face were seen at least twenty times a day by very influential people and that was a very terrifying thought.

“Tony is fine, please,” he assured as he settled himself into my cracked leather chair after also handing me his own suit jacket which I hung up next to my own.

Flourishing the cape over him I performed the same routine; snap the cape, run my finger along the inside, ask if it’s too tight. Tony assured that the cape was fine and my fingers immediately went into his graying hair along his parietal ridge, pulling softly and feeling for texture and thickness.

“So you’re testing me, then?” I asked, hoping to come across nonchalant. “What’s your goal?”

“Oh, you know, just make me even more handsome if possible,” he responded, crossing his left leg over his right.

“Uncross your legs,” I demand immediately, lightly smacking his shoulder with my comb.

He startled slightly but uncrossed them hurriedly, Doc made a disapproving clucking noise from the register where he was watching his newest hire. I cast him a small look of irritation before focusing back at Tony in my mirror.

“Do you get your sides cut with clippers or shears?”

“You’re the professional,” Tony quipped with a bemused expression.

I chuckle softly and pick up my spray bottle, spritzing him down thoroughly before picking up a barber comb and my cutting shears.

“So, Tony, I’m sure you have someone you pay way more than us to make sure you’re coiffed all pretty. Steve couldn’t have talked me up all that much,” I teased as I started cutting.

“Hasn’t stopped talking you up, more like. I swear, he checks his hair every time he walks by a mirror to see if it’s grown enough yet.”

I paused and my eyes flicked to Tony’s in the mirror. “Was it too short?” I asked nervously.

Tony rolled his brown eyes. “No, he’s too anxious to come back.”

Feeling a different sort of nervousness creep into my stomach I went back to what I was doing. Making my way around the sides of his head I went to the top and then grabbed my thinning shears to blend the line.

“I’m not going to get a phone call from an angry, overpaid stylist, am I?” I joke as I move to mix up the shaving cream in a bowl.

Tony quirked an eyebrow at me as I snapped the leather to my hip and swiped my straight razor up and down the length.

“What makes you think my stylist is overpaid?” he asked curiously with a hint of challenge.

I laughed and swiped cream around his cheeks and down his chin. “All celebrity stylists are overpaid. It’s the hairdresser’s dream.”

“Including yours?”

“I dunno, it’s a lot of pressure doing celebrities.”

“Well, don’t worry, no pressure from my end,” Tony assured.

I shrug one shoulder lackadaisically. “I know, you’re not all that famous.”

“Yeah,” he drew the word out slowly. “Pepper likes to tell me that all the time too.”

The soft scrape of blade sloughing hair from his face was one of the most relaxing sounds in the world. Using the corner tip to make the hard corners of his signature goatee, the tips of my fingers resting lightly under his chin to lift it to the height I needed to not cut him.

“Get this close with all your clients?” he teased and I frowned, quickly pulling my hand away.

“I need you to not talk for like, five minutes, unless you want to lose your lip,” I admonish strictly and he smirked but complied easily enough to allow me to finish.

Swiping my blade clean on a towel, I grabbed a clean warm one and wiped the cream off his face before letting him examine himself in the mirror.

“Huh, yeah, not bad kid,” Tony praised as I snapped the cape off.

“Anything I can fix or change?” I asked before ditching it in the dirty laundry bin.

“No, looks great.”

Tossing the cape in the bin I pass him his suit jacket that I had hung up earlier.

“That’ll be sixty dollars, please, Tony. Can I interest you in any of the product? I used the Mitch Clean Cut on you today.”

“Easy there, Y/N,” Doc interrupted. “We’re just glad you decided to try us out, Mister Stark. Your service is on the house today.”

Tony furrowed his brows in confusion and looked between me and Doc. “Is she commission based?” he asked.

“No, sir, hourly,” Doc responded.

“Okay, well, I appreciate it. Tip for you, Y/N. You know, I hate to admit when the Cap is right, but, well, I’ll see you in four weeks,” Tony commented loftily, shaking my hand and leaving a bill in my hand with a wink. He was out the door before I could process the hundred he left behind in my palm or the promise of his return.

“Listen, all I’m saying is if you just even just trim the shagginess you wont look like some murderous caveman.”

The warm, teasing voice filled the reception area as the bell tinkled above the doorway to the shop. I looked up from the clipper cut I was quickly pushing through to see none other than Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes standing by the front counter. The guys had all taken off early for beers, leaving me to close on my own once again. Not that I minded, living in New York was way more expensive than my small town half way across the country. I would happily take all the clients they took for granted.

“There is nothing wrong with my goddamn hair,” Bucky grumbled angrily under his breath at his friend, his hands shoved deep into a leather jacket and a gray hood from his sweater under it pulled up over his head.

“Maybe not if you did anything with it. Like, wash it…or comb it…or ya know…anything really other than let it hang around your face or up in a manbun,” Sam sniped back with a friendly glare.

I smirked slightly. “I’ll be right with you, gentlemen, go ahead and have a seat.”

I finished the client in my seat to the sound of their playful bickering, paid him out and thanked him for coming in. “Alright, boys, who’s up first?”

“This man,” Sam said clapping his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and shoving him forward off the chair.

“What? I told you I wasn’t getting my haircut. I just came along because you promised me pizza after,” Bucky argued.

“Dude, I got my hair cut here earlier today. I’m still hurt you haven’t noticed,” Sam commented, his face looking exaggeratedly wounded before looking up at me. “I asked for you but they said you were closing then I felt too bad to tell the dude I didn’t want him to cut my hair.”

I cocked my head to the side and narrowed my eyes as I examined his fade. He instantly squirmed and rubbed at the back of his head. “Is it jacked up?”

“Joey did it, didn’t he?” I already knew Sam had been in earlier, Joey had been talking about his whole shift. The kid had been positively glowing by the time he left with the other guys.

“Yeah?” Sam’s eyes narrowed and he tried to move his body so he could see in a mirror as he continued to rub his fade self-consciously.

“Yeah. It looks good. I thought the blend was crooked but it’s just your ears, come on back guys. I’ll just sweep real quick.”

Behind me Bucky let out a bark of laughter and Sam scoffed telling him to shut the hell up.

“I guess your reputation proceeds you correctly,” Sam commented taking a seat at the station next to mine and turning the chair to face me.

I felt my cheeks heat up and frowned in confusion. “I don’t know how to take that.”

“Steve and Stark both said that you weren’t starstruck over the super famous superheroes,” Sam explained, waving away the notion that they had said anything bad.

“Oh,” I responded simply and patted my chair for Bucky. The man, while large and imposing, just shrunk further into his hoodie and looked at me warily.

“I don’t bite, dude, and I can hang up your jacket and zip up so they don’t get hair in them,” I offered, holding my hand out for his jackets.

“Um, can I…can I keep the sweater on?” he asked hesitantly, shrugging off the leather.

“Sure,” I shrug. “But you gotta flip the hood in.”

Bucky settled in while I hung up his jacket and pretended not to notice Sam mouthing at him to be cool. I’m not an idiot, I knew the story of Bucky Barnes and I figured he had plenty of shit he was working through and just being here was hard enough for him. Turning back I noticed he had stuffed his hood in so it was a giant lump behind his neck and I reached out slowly.

“I’m just gonna smooth this out, cool?”

He nodded and I carefully flattened out his hood under his collar before draping the cape over him. This time instead of snapping it closed first I held it at the clasp and looked at him in the mirror. He was avoiding looking into the reflective surface, his eyes cast down to where his hands were folded in his lap.

“Is this too tight?” I asked.

His eyes shot up to mine in the mirror briefly before looking away. “Can you go a bit looser?” he asked softly and I nodded, moving down one clasp and snapping it closed. He let out a noticeably shaky breath under my fingers.

“So I get the feeling that if I asked you what you wanted to do with your hair, you’d say leave it how it is,” I teased lightly as I grabbed a black comb from where it was resting on a clean towel and noticed the corners of his mouth twitch upward. I gently pulled a small subsection of his hair out with the comb, smoothed the shafts down and held it up towards the LED lights overhead. “But, you have about two inches of split ends that are just dead and not doing anything for you other than getting tangled and spreading to your healthy hair. If we cut all them off you should be good for another eight to ten weeks before needing another maintenance trim. Does that sound okay to you?”

Bucky swallowed the heavy lump in his throat before sending a glare to Sam who had been sitting quietly and letting me try to get Bucky settled before catching my eyes again. “Yeah,” he murmured huskily. “Sounds fine.”

“Great!” I was trying to stay light and chipper. Doc was an old marine veteran so I had seen my fair share of veterans with PTSD come through. Doc usually took them, but for all the older man’s brash and direct interactions he’d had with me; I’d learned a lot about to how to interact with a variety of people from him. It was fascinating watching Doc go from one client to the next, his personality changing to what the client in his chair needed.

“We’re gonna wash your hair first so I can cut it wet, okay?” I figured a step by step of what we were doing would be the easiest for him to handle. So he had the chance to say no to something if it made him uncomfortable.

I set my hand lightly across his shoulder, pulling back slightly when he flinched. “I need you to lean forward slightly so I can drop the back of your chair but not you.”

It was always unnerving doing your job under someone’s watchful eye. My first few weeks at the shop were rough with all the boys looking over my shoulder and Doc subtly checking over every one of my haircuts. But it was something else entirely to have Sam Wilson watch me with eagle eyes - well, Falcon eyes - as I handled his friend. He was making observations on me as a person, not a barber, and I had to fight the constant urge to squirm under his pointed gaze.

Gathering Bucky’s chestnut locks in one hand I guided him back down into the shampoo bowl slowly so he wouldn’t knock his head against the rim. “How do you like your water?” I ask, turning on the hose and sticking my fingers underneath as it warmed up.

“Hot as you can stand,” he responded, shifting so his neck would feel more comfortable against the acrylic tub.

“Want me to put a towel under your neck for some cushion?”

“It’s fine.”

Once the water was near scalding I started saturating his hair and looked up at Sam with a smile. “So, what smooth words did Joey use to get you in his chair?”

Sam smirked and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “He said you were stealing all the interesting clients. Had to throw the kid a bone.”

I smiled as I squirted some shampoo into my hands and started to gently work it through Bucky’s hair. “That was nice of you. He’s the biggest Falcon fan I have ever met. Please tell me he showed you his official hat?”

Joey was Doc’s apprentice, he was only seventeen and had tried to rob Doc with a water gun a few months back. Instead of calling the police, Doc offered him a job and the kid was a natural.

Sam looked extremely pleased with himself. “Yeah, I signed it for him.”

I hummed in approval as I applied gentle pressure around Bucky’s temples and the crown pressure point just above middle of his brows. “That was nice of you. He’ll be talking about it for weeks.” I deftly raked my fingers down the top of Bucky’s head to cup my hands just under his occipital bone and into the pressure points behind his ears where his jaw bone meets his skull. His eyes were closed and his breathing had evened out as he relaxed under my administrations.

I eased out of the massage so as not to shock him with sudden loss of contact as I started the hose up against. He startled slightly at the burst of water and I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from giggling. “Morning!” I chirped as I rinsed the shampoo from his hair and scalp.

“That was…really nice,” Bucky admitted taking another deep breath. “Was the shampoo supposed to tingle?”

“Yup,” I shut off the water and started applying conditioner to his long locks. “It has peppermint and tea tree extracts in it. Soothes and stimulates your scalp at the same time, but I just love the scent really.”

Rinsing the conditioner off I wrapped the towel around his hair and had him sit up so I could get his chair back in position. Tossing his towel in the soiled bin I start combing through his hair.

“Do you part off this front cowlick?” I ask, placing my comb on the spot just left of his center part.

“Sometimes.”

“Cool.” As I sectioned off his hair and started snipping all the dead ends off Bucky continued to relax more and more. “So what do you guys have planned for the rest of the night?”

“We were thinking of hitting Prince Street Pizza,” Sam said, having gone from watching me intently to scrolling on his phone.

“Oh, cool. I haven’t tried that one yet.”

“It’s the best pizza in Manhattan,” Bucky said with a face of total seriousness as he locked eyes with me.

Setting down my scissors and comb and flipping on the blow dryer and grabbing a boar bristle brush, I chuckled. “Well, then that will be the next pizza destination.”

“Wanna come with?” Sam asked nonchalantly.

I shook my head as I dried Bucky’s hair smooth. “I gotta call my mom tonight. If I don’t call her the same time and day every week she freaks out and thinks I got murdered.”

“You’re not from here,” Bucky observed, it was a statement and I nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, I moved here about a month ago.” I turned off the dryer and set it back in its cradle before removing the cape.

“How does it feel?” I asked Bucky, tossing the cape into the dirty bin.

Bucky actually looked at himself in the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair, not coming across any tangles or snags. It was soft and shiny and looked so much healthier than when he came in.

“It’s nice,” Bucky said with a small grateful smile. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, dude. I’m here every day except Tuesdays and Wednesdays.”

Leading them to the checkout, Bucky picked up a bottle of the shampoo I had used and like all the others left a more than substantial tip.

“So, eight to ten weeks Sergeant Barnes. Especially if you’re out saving the world and getting all battered. Also, switch from a regular elastic to a cotton tie, your hair is too fine for elastic, it’s breaking the cuticles of your hair.”

Bucky blinked at you a few times before nodding with a bashful smile, the tips of his ears a bright pink.

“I’d feel bad taking you from Joey, thanks again for doing all that Sam. And thanks for trusting me, Bucky,” I shook both men’s hands and Bucky chuckled softly.

“Well, we had to come see what actually got Steve and Stark to agree on something,” Bucky commented before both men departed with a friendly wave.

Looking up at the clock I noticed that it was a good half hour past closing so I locked the front door and started the closing chores, feeling good about what I had accomplished today.

The next day was Monday and I had been planning in my head all day what I was going to do with my middle of the week weekend. The last couple of days had been extra busy it seemed and I was looking forward to just lazing around the house and catching up on laundry and maybe do some prep cooking for the coming week. I had also been debating on getting a cat, so I would have someone to look forward to coming home to at the end of my shift.

“Captain Rogers! It’s good to see you again!” I heard Doc exclaim from the front where he had been showing Joey how to run some of the reports in the POS system.

My head whipped around so fast I almost slipped on the blend line on the client I was working on. Quickly going back to what I was doing so that no one could catch onto the small bit of bubbling anxiety that crept in. It had only been two weeks, there was no way he’d need his hair cut again so soon. Maybe a beard trim if he hadn’t been keeping up on it on his own. I peeked out to the lobby out of the corner of my eye and saw he was in fact still clean shaved so he must have been managing on his own and his hair cut was growing out just fine and didn’t need to be touched up quite yet.

He talked softly with Doc for a moment, shaking the older man’s hand and signing a quick autograph before taking a seat in the lobby, his hands folded in his lap as he patiently watched out the window into the Manhattan street.

The man in my chair impatiently cleared his throat and I mumbled a soft apology and continued his service. After finishing and checking the man out he looked up at me and then back at Steve still sitting in the chair. The man tossed a crumbled dollar bill at me. “Maybe next time pay more attention to what’s going on in front of you instead of getting star struck.”

I opened my mouth wordlessly, feeling the heat creep up on my cheeks as I fumbled with the bill he had thrown on the counter at me. Before I could defend myself the man was out the door into the cold New York air. Letting out a huff of hair and carding my fingers through my hair I shoved the dollar in my back pocket.

“What a jerk,” Steve admonished, looking behind himself at the door.

“Eh. It happens every once and a while.” I shrug and smile at him, leaning across the counter. “Thanks for sending me all your friends. I appreciate the referrals.”

“Well, you do a good job,” Steve said and then pink rose to his cheeks and tips of his ears. “Such a good job I was wondering if you’d like to grab a cup of coffee or something?”

I smiled so wide it made my cheeks ache. “I’d really like that Steve. I’m off in a couple of hours.”

“Go, take the rest of the day,” Doc hollered from across the shop, proving that he was most definitely not eavesdropping.

“You sure, Chief?” I ask over my shoulder, already reaching for my bag and jacket.

“Go on, before I change my mind and let Joey go with him instead.”

Steve held the door open for me as I threw my jacket on. As Steve smiled down at me and led me out into the loud and bustling streets of New York, I couldn’t help but think that this move was the right call after all.

[tabloidtoc]

Us, June 15

Cover: Prince Harry and Meghan Markle living in fear 

Page 1: First Look -- Emma Roberts wearing a mask out and about 

Page 2: Red Carpet -- Dapper Dads -- Dwyane Wade, Sacha Baron Cohen, Adam Scott, Common, Dwayne Johnson 

Page 3: John Legend, John Krasinski, Aaron Paul, Ryan Reynolds, Brad Pitt 

Page 4: Who Wore It Best? Katherine McNamara vs. Liberty Ross vs. Madeline Brewer ✅

Page 6: Loose Talk -- Katy Perry on being pregnant during the pandemic, Chrissy Teigen on why she’s having her breast implants removed, Tampa Bay Buccaneers QB Tom Brady on his wardrobe malfunction at a charity golf tournament, Lisa Rinna clapping back at a troll who accused the Real Housewife of pimping out her daughter Delilah in a dance video, Halsey recalling how she tripped over her dishwasher door in a freak accident 

Page 8: Contents 

Page 10; Hot Pics -- Ben Affleck and Ana de Armas on a walk, Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello and their dogs Leo and Thunder, Carrie Underwood 

Page 12: Pool for the Summer -- stars stay afloat in style -- Joe Manganiello and Sofia Vergara and dog Bubbles, Nina Dobrev and her dog Maverick, Nastia Liukin, Brittany Snow 

Page 13: Jessica Simpson, Wells Adams, Britney Spears and Sam Asghari 

Page 14: Flower Power -- stars delight in springtime blooms -- Kylie Jenner, Ellie Goulding, Zoe Saldana, Madelaine Petsch, Shaun White 

Page 16: Stars They’re Just Like Us -- Mindy Kaling does yoga, Lucy Hale walks her dog Elvis, Justin Bieber plays basketball 

Page 17: Drew Barrymore reads Dear Girls by Ali Wong, Reese Witherspoon makes a green smoothie 

Page 18: Hollywood Moms -- Lauren Burnham on her daughter Alessi with Arie Luyendyk Jr. 

Page 20: Love Lives -- Priyanka Chopra and Nick Jonas celebrated the second anniversary of their first photo together 

Page 21: Christina Milian and Matt Pokora have their 4-month-old son Isaiah to thank for their solid romance, Kristen Doute’s new beau Alex Menache is very aware of her past relationships and her affair with Jax Taylor which she details in her memoir, Sienna Miller can’t wait to make Lucas Zwirner her husband 

Page 22: Hot Hollywood -- Ashton Kutcher and Mila Kunis are moving on from their first marital home in Hollywood and are in the midst of renovating a new home nearby 

Page 23: Weeks after Matt Lauer penned a controversial op-ed defending himself anew against rape charges that led to his 2017 firing from Today he’s talking about doing a big TV interview without an audience with Bill Maher or Bryant Gumbel, Taking a Stand -- celebrities are using their social media platforms and personal wealth to raise awareness of police brutality after the death of George Floyd -- Halsey, Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds, Beyonce, Chrissy Teigen, Nick Cannon 

Page 24: Now that they’ve pleaded guilty to their involvement in Operation Varisty Blues Lori Loughlin and Mossimo Giannulli are hoping to serve their prison sentences at different times so one parent can be free to provide emotional support to their daughters Bella and Olivia Jade, Kendra Wilkinson is having fun dating but remains focused on raising her kids 

Page 25: The stars give us a reason to smile during these trying times -- Dolly Parton dropped When Life Is Good Again a quarantine-inspired tune about being a better person, Meghan Markle has been secretly helping to fund Mayhew a London-based animal-welfare charity as well as various animal-rescue centers in L.A (great job, Meg!), during a Good Morning America segment Detroit nurses who’ve been dressing up as Wonder Woman at work got a surprise message for Gal Gadot, Vanessa Bryant shared a clip of her youngest Capri taking her first steps, Tom Hanks donated his plasma for a second time following his recovery from Covid-19 to help fight the disease and Andrea Bocelli who also recovered from the virus also donating blood to help scientists create a vaccine 

Page 26: Cover Story -- Prince Harry and Meghan Markle’s California nightmare -- the terrified pair have been targeted by drones invading their privacy 

Page 30: After three years of marriage Julianne Hough and Brooks Laich are calling it quits -- what went wrong 

Page 32: Keeping Up With the Kardashians -- Kylie Jenner gets in trouble with the law, Khloe Kardashian debuts a new face 

Page 33: Sofia Richie and Scott Disick call it quits, Kendall Jenner has a BF and a twin 

Page 34: JoJo Siwa -- get to know the blonde beneath the bow 

Page 40: Us Musts 

Page 46: Fashion Police -- plaid edition -- Kristen Stewart, Ben Platt, Laura Dern 

Page 47: Post Malone, Gwen Stefani, Billie Eilish 

Page 48: 25 Things You Don’t Know About Me -- Judy Greer 

[thefandomsinhalor]

I Know Who I Am

Written for @swansongbingo

Square filled: Stanford!Sam (Season One)

Title: I Know Who I Am

Rating: Teen and up

Word count: 2,979

Warning tags: No Archive Warning

Ship: Sam Winchester x Jessica Moore (light)

Summary: Thriving at Stanford, Sam believes he is finally free to embrace who he really is.

Read on AO3 (I might turn this into a full length fic)

“Sam? What’s wrong?”

Sam lifted his eyes from his computer screen to meet Jessica’s. Holding her cup of coffee, she stared at him. She was already dressed and ready to head out for her morning class.

Sam smiled at her. “Nothing’s wrong. Um, far from it actually.” He swallowed hard and returned his focus to his computer screen to make sure he had read the e-mail properly.

“What is it, babe? Did—oh my God. Did you get it? The scores?” She stepped into the kitchen.

“Yup.”

“And?” she asked, putting down her cup on the counter.

Sam looked at her again. She was staring at him intensively and kept shifting on her feet with giddiness.

“174.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh my God, Sam!” she cheered as she dashed towards him. With her arms wrapped around him, she gave him a warm, tight hug. “That’s almost a perfect score.”

“It’s not.”

“Stop. I’m so proud of you!”

Sam, unable to contain his smile, beamed. “Yeah?”

“Of course! I knew you could do it!” She loosened her embrace to look at him properly. Standing on her tip toes, she kissed him tenderly.

“Damn it,” she said, after breaking the kiss. “I have to leave. I’m sorry. I’m—I’ll probably be late already.”

“Don’t be sorry,” said Sam.

“We have to celebrate!” she said urgently. “Tonight.”

He let out a sigh. “You know how I feel about—today.”

“I know, but—Sam, this is huge. We have to do something. Besides, we agreed to meet Luis at the pub.” She kissed him quickly on the cheek and walked away from him.

Sam groaned. “I was hoping to skip it.”

She stopped and turned around, amused. “Nah-uh. You said you would go out with us. Despite today being Halloween. And now you have a perfect excuse.”

“You mean you have the perfect excuse to drag me there.”

“Just be ready!” she said, laughing. And after a quick look at the clock, she hurried towards the door. “I love you!”

Sam’s morning was rather uneventful. He went to study for an hour at the library before his morning class as he always did.

The class was long. His mind was slightly wandering today, so he took avid notes to focus and was grateful that at least his professor was engaging.

After his class, he stopped by Brady’s place to check up on him. He hadn’t seen Brady in quite a while and he didn’t live far from campus, so Sam would have plenty of time to come back for his afternoon class.

Brady welcomed him with a broad smile.

“I was just about to eat some leftovers. Want some? Chinese food,” said Brady after shutting the door behind Sam.

“Great. I guess it will pair up perfectly with the subs I picked up for us on my way here,” said Sam, lifting the paper bag he was holding.

Brady laughed loudly. “Weird combos it is. Just like freshman year.”

“Seems so,” said Sam, sitting at the counter. While Brady was busy retrieving the food containers from the fridge, Sam glanced around the apartment.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing troublesome.

Spick-and-span.

“Sam?”

Sam mildly jumped at his name and returned his attention to Brady.

“Sorry. I didn’t hear you. I’m having issues focusing today, I guess.”

Brady stared at him quietly for a moment. “Any reason why?”

“Just tired. I just—”

“What?”

“Just had issues sleeping. That’s all.” He handed Brady one of the subs and began unwrapping the second one.

“Any reason in particular?” said his friend.

“Stress. School. I finally got my LSAT,” he said before taking a bite of his sub.

Brady froze. When Sam remained silent, he asked him about his score. Once Sam told him, trying not to feel embarrassed, Brady cheered loudly, pumping his fist in the air. “That’s terrific, Sam.” He looked down at the food on the counter. “I kinda feel like we should eat something else instead.”

Sam shook his head. “Nah. This is actually nice. What about you? Did you finally made a decision for next year? Last time we talked, you seemed undecided.”

“Nothing concrete, yet, I’m afraid.”

“That’s okay too. You tell me when you do, though? And then, we’ll celebrate.”

“Deal,” said Brady, grinning. He helped himself to some dumplings and asked, “So, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Hadn’t heard from you in a while.”

Brady stopped chewing. He paused a moment, and then smirked at him. “You wondered if I was up to no good?”

“Brady—I—”

“That’s why you were eyeing my place earlier. Are you worried about me?”

“No. I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosy. I—I just—”

“Sam, relax,” he said after taking a big bite of his sub. “I get it. You want to make sure I haven’t gotten back to my old ways—”

“Brady, I’m—”

“If anything,” he said, cutting him off, “I’m touched. But I promise I’m fine. I’ve just been busy.”

“Okay,” said Sam, nodding. “Can I ask how you’ve been busy?” he asked in a lighter tone, which made Brady laugh.

His friend observed him a moment, as if he was deciding to what extent he should share, and finally said, “Let’s just say that something is brewing in the background. Something big. Life altering big for some of us. In a way.”

“Really? And when is your big turning point is supposed to happen?”

“Oh, I didn’t say it would be life altering for me, per se. Although, it will evidently change things for me too.”

Sam frowned at him. “What?” He let out a small laugh. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You’ll see,” said Brady, smiling at the corner of his mouth. “But I’m not giving away the surprise.”

“That’s not vague or ominous at all,” said Sam.

“Any plans tonight?” asked Brady, changing the subject. “I’m sure Jess is planning something to celebrate.”

Sam pursed his lips and lowered his eyes.

“Right,” sighed Brady. “You and Halloween. I forgot. What’s up with that?”

“I just—it’s not my thing. Jess and I are meeting Luis at the pub tonight. A few of the others said they’d show up there too—you’re welcome to join, by the way—”

“I would love that, believe me, but I actually have other plans tonight.”

“All right. I’m—I was sort of trying to get out of it, but now Jess is insisting on celebrating tonight…”

“Can’t really miss that,” said Brady, amused. “Want my advice? I think you should listen to Jess. She clearly has your best interest at heart. Going out, instead of staying in to study—again—won’t kill you, Sam. Embrace it while you can.”

Sam enjoyed the rest of his lunch with Brady, discussing their options and hopes for their school years to come. Brady was enthusiastic and gave Sam a detailed list of his intensive school year schedule to meet all the application deadlines.

Much like the one Sam had to endure as well.

Soon enough, however, Sam needed to head back towards campus, so he thanked Brady for the lunch and reminded him of the night’s invitation in case his plans changed.

Back on campus, Sam hurried to his next class, swirling the ambling students around him. But as he passed by the Hoover Tower, he came to a halt when a thought suddenly occurred to him.

Dean. Dad.

His stomach dropped. He hadn’t told them about his results yet. And he had just now realized that fact.

Why would I though? It’s not like they get it.

And while he knew perfectly well that this was true, he also felt somewhat guilty that his first thought hadn’t been to tell Dean.

Dean would care. He might think it’s pointless and that I am wasting my time with Law school, but he would care. Dad too, but…

He retrieved his phone from his pocket and pondered about dialing. He pursed his lips, staring stubbornly at his phone.

All his reasons for having left, for having kept to himself all this time, came rushing back in his mind. Because he wanted to be free and lead his own life. Because he was tired of hunting. Because it wasn’t who he was.

And now, even though he wanted to share this news with them, he was worried calling might open the door for them—for John—to pull him back in.

Sam let out a sigh of frustration.

I can’t do it.

Because this isn’t me anymore. This has never been me. I’m okay here. I’m with Jess. I have friends. A future. A future that won’t end with blood. And death. And pain.

And soul crushing drama.

I already had enough of drama as it is.

This—me being a civilian who actually has a life, who is participating in society and doesn’t run anywhere—this is what I want. This is who I am.

He stared at his phone. At the contact “Dean.”

But I would still like to tell Dean.

And after a moment of hesitation, when he almost hit dial, he shook his head, shoved the phone back in his pocket and continued his route.

The number is probably not even in service anymore. And they’ll say what? Congratulations? Even if they mean it and it’s not just out of politeness, they will still probably think it’s a waste of time.

And I don’t want to hear that. Not today. Not after everything.

And more than anything, I don’t want to risk getting sucked into that. I managed to get myself out of it. I don’t want to ruin it.

I’m not a hunter. I want to be a lawyer.

And that was what he kept repeating to himself the rest of the day.

In his afternoon class, which turned out to be extremely difficult to focus on.

When he devoured his dinner at the bookstore where he worked. Especially when he overheard two students discussing doing a séance at the Holy Cross cemetery that night.

Based on what they were planning on bringing, not to mention how they intended on proceeding, Sam judged that there wasn’t anything to worry about. He kept his mouth shut so he wouldn’t sound like a complete freak.

Which was extremely difficult at times.

I’m not a hunter. I want to be a lawyer.

Words that he repeated to himself, once again, when he bumped into Mr. Gable, who lived across the hall from him and Jess, in their building’s lobby. His neighbor appeared grim, which was very unlike him, so Sam asked him what was wrong. Mr. Gable complained that “weird stuff” was happening in his apartment and when he notified their landlord, he wasn’t very keen on doing anything about it.

“What do you mean by ‘weird stuff’?”

“The lights are glitching. And the damn thermostat is broken.”

Sam frowned. “How so?”  

“It’s cold all the time. Which makes no sense, I know,” he added after assessing Sam’s expression. “I know it’s not winter yet, but it’s cold. Anyway, he came in, checked a few things and said everything was in order.”

“Did you ever have this problem before?”

“No. And I’ve lived here for almost ten years now.”

Sam swallowed. “Mr. Gable, I—I’m sure the landlord is—can I have a look?”

“At my apartment? You?”

“It’s probably just the wiring with the lights and…stuff, but I can check if you want.”

“And you’re an electrician?”

“Um, no. But I get by. I changed a few things in our apartment when we moved in. I got rid of that old ceiling fan that looked like it would just drop on our heads.”

Mr. Gable laughed. “All right. A quick look wouldn’t hurt.”

After Sam told him he needed to get a few things first, he dashed to his apartment and gunned for some of his gear he hid in the bottom of the closet. Away from prying eyes. Away from Jess’ grasp. He had explained to her that this was “hunting” gear and should be kept safely away at all times. He wouldn’t use it, but felt like he had to keep it for a weird “sentimental” value.

He knew Jess respected his space, especially in regards to anything involving his family. He also knew that if Jess ever decided to have a closer look in the duffle bag, while some guns and knifes would make sense, there was a bunch of other stuff that wouldn’t add up as hunting equipment.

Traditional hunting that was.

Sam simply grabbed the EMF and put his bag back in the closet.

Mr. Gable’s apartment’s inspection turned out to be very quick. He asked his neighbor the usual spill, trying his best to not sound overly invasive or weird. No recent deaths in the family or surroundings. No purchased or heirloom items. Again, nothing out of the ordinary.

And while the place was a bit chilly, it wasn’t like the usual ice-cold spots. Not like the ones that made the hair at the back of his neck rise and paralyzed him for a second.

He also noticed that Mr. Gable liked to have the windows open.

“Everybody needs fresh air!” he said defensively.

And while the lights did flicker, the EMF, on the other hand, didn’t react, so Sam judged it was the wiring. Sam assured him that he would mention it to the landlord next time he saw him, and that if the landlord still did nothing about the lights then, he asked Mr. Gable to come and find him again, and Sam promised to help him out.

His neighbor thanked him and Sam headed back home, telling himself that it was just bad wiring.

Besides, I am done with all this. This is just me not being stupid. Being cautious. And he figured that the supernatural was simply on his mind due to Halloween.

We’re close to—this is why I’m going there. But there is nothing.

Despite having fun with Jess and Luis, and the fact that he was celebrating and happy about his scores, keeping his mind away from the supernatural proved to be challenging on that evening nonetheless.

He was used to Halloween being the “night off,” but observing everyone’s costumes made it difficult to ignore that fact.

Luis was dressed as a zombie, which was a nice effort, Sam judged, to the real thing with the ragged clothes and makeup.

Except for the smell. Nothing can be faked about the authenticity of a rotten corpse.

Failing to solely focus on Jess, Sam noticed everyone around them. Some guy wearing a pope outfit. A pirate. Some girl wearing a silver spandex and silver wig. Another one wearing a white puffy dress. And a veil. A bride. She walked right behind Jess. And next to someone wearing multicolored curly hair with—

Fuck, no. Why? Sam took a deep breath

Why do people insist on dressing up as clowns? Why do people want to dress up period?

And it wasn’t until later that night, once he was lying in his bed, desperately trying to fall asleep that a troubling thought came to him.

I don’t like that people are dressing up for fun because I was forced to do it my whole life. My whole life I had to pretend to be someone else. I had to lie about everything. I had to lie to everyone.

Every day was Halloween for me. The bad part of it, I suppose, but still.

And I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to be that person. I want to be me. Just me.

He sighed as his heart grew heavy. Feeling his arm going numb, he turned on his back.

Another thought crept into his mind.

But I’m still lying. Not like before, but I’m still lying.

And then, he made the mistake of opening his eyes.

And momentarily froze as he stared at the ceiling.

And saw it in a flash. Jess. The burning ceiling. The image imprinted in his mind from his nightmare.

Nothing. There’s nothing. Of course, there’s nothing.

He turned his head towards Jessica who was peacefully sleeping next to him.

She’s okay. There’s nothing to worry about.

He told himself this a hundred times, convincing himself that it was all a dream. Nightmare. Nothing else. And considering the time of year, it was not surprising why these nightmares—theses atrocious, paralyzing nightmares—would occur.

This is just me reacting to stress or something.

And this is exactly the reason why I should keep on track. Not care about anything else.

He took a deep breath, turned on his side again to avoid looking at the ceiling and shut his eyes. He had every intention to clear his mind.

But it didn’t work as well as he had hoped. The moment that image surfaced into his head, it was difficult to let it go. And the usual depressing hits started to rush in. His mother. John yelling about Stanford. Crappy motels. The journal. Kids telling him he was weird. Moving.

And therefore, me always being the weird kid.

And now, creepy nightmares of Jess burning on the ceiling. Like Mom.

No. This is—

I have nothing to do with this.

This is not me. This is not me. This is not me.

I know who I am. And no one can change that.  I have a say into this.

And he eventually fell asleep as he repeated his mantra. For the most part, it had worked.

Sam did not have nightmares about Jessica burning on the ceiling.

He had a dreamless sleep that night.

Until he was awoken by a sound in his apartment.

The sound that broke his sleep.

The sound that brought him back to reality.

To his reality.

A window opening.

[darkangel0410]

when you see this post a snippet of your wip

(Of course I have no self-control so here's 3 snippets from three different WIPs out of the many (many) in my folder)(ok I lied, 4 snippets ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) Enjoy!:

(godlings verse, no pairing yet)

The first time Charlie remembers talking to ghosts was the winter he turned five.

When he's older, his mom will tell him how he would lay in his bassinet and babble at shadows, content to stare at what she thought was just the wall or ceiling for hours.

But the first concrete memory he has of seeing and talking to someone no one else could was when he was playing in his front yard, shooting a toy puck at the side of the house.

He remembers someone suddenly being there and how he wasn't scared or upset by it, not even surprised.

hello, son of Hades, will you talk to me before i leave for your father's realm?

Even back then Charlie remembers thinking even dead people needed someone to talk to sometimes.

sure, my name's charlie.

*

(Boeser/Petterrson, a/b/o)

Brock is just so pretty, it's hard for Elias to concentrate when he's around.

He wants to buy Brock new suits, ones with some color and a good cut that would make him look even better than he already does. Take him out to dinner, spoil him so he knows how much Elias wants him.

He's never looked at an alpha and thought mine. Never wondered how one would look with his collar around their neck.

But Brock is loud and brash, always flirting and touching Elias, like he can't help himself. Like maybe he wants what Elias wants. 

And Elias has never been one to deny himself things.

*

(Reinhart/Skinner, Eichel/McDavid, a/b/o)

Sam grins and points his beer at Jeff. "It did not. Eichs has never liked being told what to do, doesn't matter really who's telling him. 

"Good thing Davo's never really cared about that kind of shit."

The waitress comes over to drop off two more beers and clean off the table; they both finish off their drinks and hand her the empties. Jeff watches in amusement when she flirts with Sam, trying to draw him out him by smiling and touching his arm while she finished clearing off the table; it stops being funny when she flashes her bare neck at him and Jeff has to bite back the possessive growl he wants to let out.

The waitress startles and gives Jeff an apologetic look before practically running away from their table; Jeff knows he should apologize for whatever his scent did that scared off someone Sam may have been interested in, but Sam doesn't seem mad or pissed off and his scent is quietly pleased, sunflowers over pine trees and snow, so Jeff just focuses on finishing his beer.

*

(Tkachuk bros, Eichel, Middlestat, a/b/o, sibling incest, mpreg)

He hesitates for a second, clearly unsure what to grab because Brady is staggering around with both their gear bags, as well as a bookbag and duffel bag somehow strapped to his back and the look on Brady's face isn't friendly, despite the fact he knows neither one of them are trying to steal anything from him.

"Ah, I don't," Mittsy looks over his shoulder at Eichs, eyebrows raised, at a loss for what to do when faced with an exhausted, overprotective alpha.

Eichs takes stock of the situation quickly, before Matt has to jump in and coax Brady into being less of a knothead. "Go grab one of the carts over by the counter, Chucky can put everything on there and push it around without having the size of his knot questioned."

Brady looks torn between outrage and amusement, and Matt heaves a quiet sigh of relief when Brady grins at Eichs. "Be nice to me, I'm not at my best right now."

"When are you ever," Eichs snorts but it's the usual friendly disdain that he has for all the alphas he's friends with.

[thegreen1969pontiac]

L’appel Du Vide Chapter 6- Remember How We Said “I Hope”

                                         Eventual Dean x OC

Summary: When Hope’s sister is killed in a less than a normal house fire, and Sam, her sister’s boyfriend, disappears with his brother after her death they’re her number one suspects. When the cops declare the case cold she begins her hunt for the Winchester boys. She follows them in hope for some evidence pointing to the death of her sister, but will she find more than just the cause and the killer? Will she find out more than she wanted to?

Warning: language, filler chapter, Winchester perspective

Word Count: 11652

The boys pull up to a gas station, Dean starts talking,

"All right, I figure we'd hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head South, hit Bisbee by midnight. Sam wears women's underwear." Dean teases, looking down at the cellphone in Sam's hand.

"I'm listening, I'm just busy," Sam says eyes still glued to his phone,

"Busy doing what?" Dean asked,

"Reading emails," Sam said with a monotonous voice. Dean got out of the car so he could begin to fill up Baby's tank. Dean squints his eyebrows together,

"Emails from who?" He asked slamming the door,

"From my friends at Stanford." Sam raises his voice,

"You're kidding, you still keep in touch with your college buddies?" Dean asks reaching for the pump and walking to the back to hook it into Baby.

"Why not?" Sam asks looking at Dean,

"Well," Dean leads on, "What exactly do you tell them you know, about where you've been, what you've been doing?" And Dean walks to where Sam's window was rolled down and leans on the car.

"I tell them I'm on a road trip with my big brother, I tell them that I needed some time off after Jess." Sam looks at Dean from within his seat in the Impala. Dean looks down at his brother smiling,

"Well, so you lie to them?" Dean says with a smirk,

"No," Sam says as his voice raises an octave in disbelief, "I just don't tell them everything." "Yeah, that's called lying," Dean says chuckling, "I mean hey man, I get it. Telling them the truth is much worse." And Dean looks at the numbers rise on the gallons dial.

"So, what am I supposed to do? Just cut everyone out of my life?" Sam asks watching his brother as some of his hair gets in his eyes. Dean shrugs his shoulders and looks down on to Sam with a fond smile.

"You're serious?" Sam asks in disbelief,

"Look it sucks. But a job like this, you can't get close to people." Deans says shaking his head,

"You're kind of antisocial. You know that?" Dean looks back to the rushing numbers,

"Yeah, whatever." He says with faux suave. Sam's eyebrows knit together as he looks back to his phone,

"God," Sam mumbles to himself.

"What?" Dean bends down so he is looking at the phone through the window.

"This email from this girl Rebecca Warren," On the phone it read,

hey sam -

wanted to update you: wasn't sure if you heard the news. Zach was arrested for killing his gf. sounds crazy, i know-but he's charged with murder. cops say they have dna, fingerprints, all kinds of evidence-- he didn't do it!! this all feels so unreal. just thought you'd like to know.

"She says Zach has been charged with murder, he's been arrested for killing his girlfriend," Sam says in shock from the email.

"Rebecca says he didn't do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case."

 Dean raises his eyebrows now in surprise,

"Dude, what kind of people are you hanging out with?" He asks looking at his shaggy-haired brother. Sam answers,

"No, man. I know Zach. He's no killer." Sam still looking at his phone in surprise,

"Yeah, well, maybe you know Zach as well as he knows you," Dean says teasingly. Sam looks to his brother,

"They're in St. Louis, we're going," Sam says with urgency. Dean chuckles,

"I'm sorry about your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem." Dean says with an ordering tone,

"It is our problem. They're my friends." Sam says, he flashes the puppy dog eyes that he knows that Dean can only resist for so long,

"St. Louis is 400 miles behind us, Sam," Dean says raising his voice and resting his hand on the Impala. And then they were driving back to St. Louis.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Following Sam and Dean tended to become a tedious task, the boys would drive during all hours of the day on only take 5 minute stop around every three hours, this proved to become an issue after only around two hours in which after drinking all the diner coffee had become a large regret of mine.

 I traveled behind the boys leaving enough room as to they couldn't see me wishing I had a more inconspicuous car but knowing I would never drive anything but Theo. As the boys pulled off for gas I pulled off to a convenience store and practically ran to the restroom. As I was washing my hands the restroom became about three degrees colder and I felt as if the already cool water was about to freeze. I look into the mirror and see my face staring back at me, something that after the freak accident in the car the other day proved to be something to celebrate. I saw the glinting though, from my neck, it was my sister's necklace, I found it at the evidence lock-up back before her funeral, it was one of the few things that survived the fire, it wasn't her favorite or anything, but I always liked it, it was a gift from mom and dad to her for getting into Stanford, just a small diamond hanging from a chain, it was simple and I liked it. Jess though never really wore it she was into statement pieces.  I shook my head and headed back to Theo paying for some Diet Coke and a candy bar. Just as I got back outside I see the black impala spinning around heading in the opposite direction they were heading. Are they serious? I groan but hop into Theo, and begin driving behind them again.

Over the past week since Jess died I have let loose a bit more, I turn on the radio now instead of sitting in silence and I have repainted my nails with the same red polish that was already on them, I allowed myself to wash my clothes around twice a week seeing as I had only around four outfits that I brought not including the dressy one. But, I still haven't allowed myself to sleep. 

Sleeping was always something that came quite naturally but in the past year due to my uncle's disappearance and due to my sister's death, I can't seem to sit still for more than an hour, in the car, it's worse. 

We drive for only a little while before we come to a stopping point outside a house that looks to be up on the higher end of the market. Sam and Dean exit their car begin hiking up the steps to the house's front porch. 

Sam knocks and the door swings open and when it does I can feel my eyes rolling into the back of my skull. God dammit. When the door swings open it reveals Becky one of Sam's friends. The one that Brady told me to talk to when he was too busy with his preppy lacrosse practice, she looks at Sam and smiles, She laughs with him and they hug he basically bear-hugs her due to her tiny stature and his giant one. Dean butts in and it seems like he introduces himself, shaking her hand, you could tell which one of the Winchester brothers she had a thing for, seeing as when he does give her the Winchester smile she quickly turns all of her undivided attention back to Sam. She waves them in and the two walk through.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

" I decided to take the semester off. I'm gonna stay until Zach's free." Becky states, walking with Sam, Dean trailing behind.

"Where are your folks?" Sam asked looking at her, as Dean looked around the mansion like house.

"They live in Paris for half the year, but they are flying back for the trial." She said, looking at Sam with adoration,

"Do you guys want a beer or something?" She asks walking towards the fridge. Dean's face lights up and he points at her,

"Hey," Deans says smiling then immediately Sam says,

"No thanks. So tell us what happened." Becky walks closer to Sam leaning in so she was looking directly at him,

"Well, Um, Zach had come home, and he found Emily tied to a chair, and she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn't breathing. And so he called 911 and the police showed up, and they arrested him." She said her eyes filling with tears that just screamed truth.

"But the thing is, the only way that Zach could have killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police they have a video, it's from across the street. And it shows Zach at 10:30 coming home. Now Emily was killed just after that. But I swear that he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight." She said her voice breaking and tears filling her eyes.

"You know, maybe we could see the crime scene -- Zach's house." Sam says leaning on the table long arms supporting him.

"We could?" Dean buts in looking in between Sam and Becky. Both look to him and Becky carries on ignoring Dean,

"Why? What could you do?" Becky asked.

"Well, me, not much but Dean, he's a cop," Sam said directing her attention to the shorter Winchester. Dean chuckles looking between the two,

"A detective, actually," Dean says smiling.

"Really? Where?" Becky asks. Dean nods,

"Bisbee, Arizona. But I'm off duty now." Dean says looking at Sam accusingly.

"I don't know. You guys, it's so nice to offer. But I just -- I don't know," Becky said shaking her head,

"Beck, look. I know Zach didn't do this. Now we have to find a way to prove that he's innocent," Sam said slowly. Becky looked from Sam to Dean and then back to Sam and smiled,

"Okay. I'm gonna go get the keys." Becky said turning on her heel. Dean whistles,

"Oh yeah, you're a real straight shooter with your friends," Dean says with his eyebrows raised.

"Look, Zach and Becky need our help," Sam says,

"I just don't think this is our type of problem," Dean said smiling as he said it.

"Two places at once?" Sam said stopping his brother, "We've looked into less," Dean raises his eyebrows and turns away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I haven't been doing much stalking, other than following the boys from town to town I didn't interfere at all, mainly only focusing on them when they are directly involved in something, but in St. Louis it didn't seem like much was going on, the murder happened before the boys got there. I made sure of it. I completed my third hour of research just five minutes ago, I had not only been studying mysterious deaths that all started with fire but also human psychology. 

The diner where I had stationed myself seemed to be nice, the place was cleaner then my motel and the coffee wasn't too bad either. Plus I was able to work without being interrupted by the "fun" my neighbor was having through the thin walls.

The main topic of my research has been the symbolism of fire and its meaning in different religions, fire was important was the main thing I stumbled upon during my research, many Greek philosophers referred to it as one of the four elements to life, representing passion and power. According to ancient myth, fire was so important that Prometheus stole the fire from the heaven's and gave it to the human beings that he had made. 

A Greek philosopher, Heraclitus found that the soul is connected to fire just as it is with water, he was ahead of his time apparently his theory was then later used in Wiccan religion, both related to the theory of unity of opposites that in Wiccan culture was worded, "As above, so below." Many Eastern philosophers although believed that fire was a primal and feral sort of power that it refers to one's drive or compulsion. Fire was often referred to as immortal, and nearly every religion had at least one god that was related to fire. The abundance of deities made figuring out a motive to Sam Winchester's crimes an intimidating task. Traditionally though, fire represents anger, fury, and dominance. In Chinese culture, it is referred to as Yang. I learned that fire is traditionally represented by a sword or dagger which would explain the cut in Jess's stomach.

It was time to get to the bottom of this mystery, if they wanted to play the villain then I sure as hell am ready to play Scooby Doo.

So I headed towards California in Theo.

[rambling-at-midnight]

False Image: Part 2

At this point, you’re pretty sure the universe hates you.

You don’t know what you did to piss off fate, but it seems like everywhere you turn, there’s one of the Winchesters, or some appendage of them—Bobby, Jo, Gabe, and Cas don’t have the last name ‘Winchester’ but they’re all connected in some way.

At least none of your coworkers know Sam and Dean. From what you’ve seen of the boys’ fans, if someone does know them, they’d never stop talking about them. You’re surprised you haven’t fallen to what you’ve started to call the Winchester virus—yet.

You’ve never seen such a close-knit group of people and it’s really sweet, how much they seem to care for each other, but they’re always talking about Sam and Dean. Sam and Dean this, Sam and Dean that, Sam and Dean saved kittens from a house fire yesterday, this morning they saved one of their colleague’s lives.

Not that they aren’t great, because they are. And you’re glad they’re saving kittens’ lives, because you love kittens, and you’re glad nobody’s dying in local fires, but you’ve got a problem.

You blush.

A lot.

At a lot of things, like having to speak in front of small and large groups of people, you saying something dumb to someone you don’t really know, someone asking you a question you don’t know the answer to, someone teasing you, someone questioning you in general, lying, and so much more.

Basically, if no one looked at you, everything would be peachy.

And for some reason you don’t really want to know, the mere mention of Sam freakin’ Winchester makes you red-hot like the firetrucks he rides in.

Oh, and did you forget to mention, you blushing so much makes you embarrassed, but the more embarrassed you are, the more you blush?

So, it’s either you start wearing an unholy amount of makeup to stop from looking like a tomato every time someone mentions Sam’s name—and jeez, are the boys, like, local celebrities or something? Everyone knows them—or you, like, get over this weird crush thing. You’ve not spent an hour in his presence, so how could you be so flustered over even his name ?

At least he’s not one of your patients. You’d probably catch fire if he came around and you had to sit in a closed-off room with him for a half hour.

Good thing he’s a firefighter, you think and chuckle aloud.

“What?” Your secretary and first friend in this town, Charlie Bradbury, asks without taking her eyes off her computer screen. You don’t know what she’s looking at; it’s all a bunch of black and white gibberish on the display.

“Sorry.” You shake your head and stow your phone in your coat pocket. “Just… thinking of a funny scene from a TV show I watched last night.” You can feel the heat rising up your cheeks and pray she isn’t looking at you. Charlie rarely takes her eyes off her computer screen, especially because she works another job while being your secretary. It’s not a lot of work, so she also works for the government in hacking into people’s electronic stuff. You’re not very good at all that stuff. Thank God she is.

“Hey, remind me who’s coming today?”

Charlie rapidly clicks the mouse, minimizing the gibberish screen and pulling up multiple files before finding the right one. She recites, “Brutus Crowley—” You smile at that. “Missy Walker, Dagger Chambers, Lola Banes, and Bailey Hanscum. Garth is taking care of all the other patients. Speaking of—” Charlie checks her watch. “He’s cutting it close again.”

“Cut him some slack, he’s an excited newlywed.” You sigh. “I think it’s sweet.”

Charlie pushes away from her computer and wheels over to you. “What’s that sigh for?”

“What sigh?” You look away and pick up your file for the day just to have something to do.

Charlie exaggerates a sigh and repeats, “‘I think it’s sweet.’ What’s that about?” She gasps. “Is there someone? A boy?” She wiggles her eyebrows at you.

“No!” You crinkle your nose as if disgusted, but really you’re trying not to smile at the mental image of Sam that pops up in your head.

“A girl! I like girls, too, I’m not judging.”

“Speaking of, you need to bring Kara around sometime! You guys are still together, right?”

“Yes, we are, you would know if we weren’t, and you’re changing the subject.” Charlie puts her hands together prayer-style and regards you with squinted eyes.

You start to get red and look away, pretending to shuffle through the case files. It’s just a checkup for Brutus, but Missy’s been refusing food. And Dagger—

“You like someone.” Charlie gasps. “You don’t like Dean, do you? You’ve been talking about him a lot. You know he’s with Cas, right?” She grimaces. As if you’d ever be a homewrecker like that.

You pull a face. “No! Ew! I don’t like Dean—wait, you know Dean? And I haven’t been talking about him, like, at all!”

Charlie laughs. “Hey, look, as your closest friend, whenever you mention a potential love interest, I notice. It’s taken you long enough to get over Brady. You were talking about the Winchesters, especially more recently, and well… even I can admit they are smoking . And the tone of voice you used when you were talking about them… Besides, who doesn’t know Dean? Everyone knows Dean and—” Charlie’s mouth drops open. “Sam! Oh my God, you like Sam !”

“You do?”

You and Charlie turn at the sound of Garth’s voice. He shuts the back door and hangs up his coat and briefcase without taking his eyes off you.

“Hey, Garth!” you say loudly, trying to convey that you’re going to kill Charlie with your eyes. “How’s the wife?”

“She’s great. You like Sam?” he asks again, like you hadn’t heard him ask the first time. “Wow! I love Sam! I bet you guys will be great together!”

“No, I really—I really don’t ,” you insist. “You probably don’t even know the Sam we’re talking about—”

“Well, Winchester, duh.” Garth smiles and chuckles. “Are there any other Sams in the town?”

“Um, yes, three others, and Charlie’s just being stupid and projecting her happy lovey-dovey feels onto me. I’m focused on my work now. I don’t have time for distractions.”

“Y/N, you’re getting red,” Garth points out in a sing-song voice and picks up a sheet of paper from Charlie’s desk. Of course, that only makes you redder. “Oh, hey! Mrs. MacLeod is visiting with Leo today! I love Leo. He’s my favorite snake.”

“I think he’s our only snake,” Charlie muses, finally distracted, and you breathe a sigh of relief and check your watch.

“Oh! We’re opening in one minute! Is everything set up?”

“Y/N, relax. Even if things aren’t ready, the only person scheduled exactly for 9 is Crowley, and he literally could not care less.”

“Speak of the devil,” you say while poking your head out of the employee’s room. Crowley stands in front of the glass doors with Brutus at his side. The enormous Neapolitan Mastiff sits at his feet, perfectly obedient as always.

You mouth ‘one moment’ to Crowley, who rolls his eyes (you blush) and duck back into the room. “He’s here. Where are the keys?”

Charlie tosses them to you. “Did you know, Asa always puts them on the coat rack when he’s finished with the night shift? It took me forever to find them the first time and we were fifteen minutes late to open…” She continues to speak to Garth, who listens intently while preparing himself some coffee, and you welcome Crowley and his dog in with a large, genuine smile. Crowley is definitely an acquired taste and so is Brutus, but they’re both sweethearts once you get to know them.

“How are you today, Crowley?”

“I’m perfectly well, Y/N,” he responds in his dry British accent. “How are you?”

“I’m all right,” you reply. “A little stressed because of the move, but I’m excited too. And how is Brutus doing?” You crouch down to the dog’s level and scratch his head. “Just the checkup, huh?”

“That is correct. You are satisfied with the help you received through my company, though, aren’t you?”

“Oh, Mr. Asmodeus was lovely,” you assure him. “Packing up is just a hassle. You never know how much you own until you have to box it all up, right?”

Crowley laughs, probably only out of courtesy, but that’s one of the reasons why you like him. He’s always perfectly polite and courteous. You would think he’s only being nice to you because he’s nice to everyone (and that doubt does still cross your mind at times) but he’s taken to calling you Bird, and Charlie tells you he only calls people animals when he’s especially fond of them.

“You know, I almost wish Brutus would get sick more often,” you remark off-handedly. “I hardly ever see him, do I, boy?” You pat his head and lead him by his collar to the scale. “Not that I’d like to see him sick, though,” you add hastily.

“No offense taken, Bird,” Crowley assures you. “I did hear something about a training center for dogs…”

“I guess word has gotten around,” you say while writing down Brutus’ weight. “I mean, it is a training center and Brutus is, obviously, an angel. The sentiment is kind, though.”

“Wouldn’t it help to have another dog along to set an example?” Crowley asks.

You frown and tap your pen against your chin. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Perfect.” Crowley straightens his already-straight suit. “Then you’ll send me the schedule?”

“Y-yes.” Feeling yourself get redder, you change the topic. “Brutus has only gained a tenth of a pound since we’ve last seen him, so that aspect is fine.” You give the dog a treat, one of the many stowed in the pockets in your coat, and wink at Crowley. “Off to a private room, then.”

“Heel, boy,” Crowley commands and they follow after you.

“Now, I don’t suppose any of the answers from last year have changed?” you ask while listening to Brutus’ chest with your stethoscope.

Crowley settles himself into a chair with a regal dignity you didn’t think possible for a mere human. “Well, as the town grows, I become busier and busier, but I have hired a dog walker to take Brutus on his regular walks, and then I obviously exercise him in the park while I eat my lunch. Apart from that, nothing has changed.”

You mark that down on your clipboard. “Oh, I forgot to ask—did you bring in the feces we asked for?”

Crowley flourishes a Tupperware container full of Brutus’ poop that he’d pulled seemingly out of nowhere.

“Perfect, I’ll have Garth go over that immediately.” You stick your head out of the room and call, “Garth! We got poop !”

“That is a lot of poop,” Garth comments as he takes the container from you.

“Brutus is a big dog,” you reply. “Make sure you wash it out well, all right?”

Brutus seems perfectly healthy, so you send the two men off a few treats lighter and with Crowley’s number in your pocket. You have no idea where Crowley put the Tupperware container after you gave it back to him, but that’s just Crowley for you.

The rest of the day is a breeze. Gordon Walker was probably more worried than he needed to be, since his cat only has a small cold, but you sent them away with medication. Krissy Chambers’ bunny, Dagger, had a UTI.

You had a small break after that and got to hold Leo during his wellness examination and talk with Crowley’s mother, Rowena. You don’t know how she looks so young, considering her son is at least 45.

After that you got to meet Lola Banes, Alicia Banes’ new white rat. It was just a wellness examination for him as well, but he wasn’t exactly friendly. And Donna Hanscum’s energetic cocker spaniel, Bailey, has fleas.

At the end of the day, you sit slumped in the employee’s room, sipping out of a coffee. It’ll keep you up tonight, but at this point you’re too tired to make it back to your apartment. You need the caffeine.

“Long day, huh?” Charlie spins around in her chair once, a blur too fast for you to make eye contact with, before she gets back to typing.

You nod and heave a sigh. “I just need to get on a good sleeping schedule again, that’s all.”

“You’ll be back to yourself once the move is over.”

“God, I hope so.”

“Hey, you wanna head home now?” Charlie stands up from her computer and cracks her neck. “Garth and I can handle cleanup, or even Asa and whoever he works the ER with. You’ve earned a good night’s sleep.” Charlie takes the coffee cup out of your hands. “You won’t be able to sleep if you drink this.”

“I won’t be able to drive back if I don’t drink it,” you correct and grab for the coffee cup. All that happens is burning-hot coffee slops over the edge and you both snatch your hands away at the same time. The cup smashes on the floor and you hiss, shaking your hand.

“Fuck,” you both say at the same time, staring at the smashed cup on the ground.

“This is why we can’t have nice things, Charlie,” you immediately joke. “Hey, at least I’m a medical professional. I know how to bandage burns.”

“You know how to do everything,” Charlie grumbles as you wrap up her hand. “You should work the ER too, sometimes. Asa had to call Garth in because some cat was having troubles that he didn’t recognize. You’re the boss. The boss should be doing the hard work.”

“Yeah, Charlie, I’d sure love to work 24/7,” you say sarcastically. “I work the ER on Saturdays. Sundays are my off days.”

“I’ll clean up the mess,” she says, ignoring your sarcasm. “You go home.”

You start to walk away but stop in the doorway. “Hey, Charlie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you—forget it.”

“No, what?”

“I’ll get back to you after I ask Garth about it,” you evade, turning red again. You don’t want Charlie to know anything about it. At least Garth is moderately subtle. Charlie would probably punch Gordon in the face, and he hasn’t even done anything.

Garth is just finishing up with someone’s dog when you knock on his door.

“Bye, Mrs. O’Connor!” he calls cheerily. “Have a nice day!”

“You too, Mr. Fitzgerald,” she responds.

“Hey, Y/N,” Garth greets, turning around to grab a Clorox wipe. “Buddy really sheds a lot. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you could take Missy Walker from now on?” You hold your breath as your face turns red.

“Why?”

“I don’t really like her.”

“What?” Garth laughs. His back is still turned and you’re grateful. You’re blushing hard right now. “Missy’s super sweet and you love cats. What’s really up, Y/N?”

“Nothing!” Your shoulder slips off the doorframe and you stumble. “Nothing, really, Garth. I just—she only comes in once in a while and most of the time I’m really busy and Krissy and Lee had to wait a long time while I was with Missy.” You take Missy’s file out from behind your back and shove it at him. “If it’s not any trouble…”

Bemused, Garth takes the papers and skims over them. “If you really don’t want to, Y/N, then sure, but—”

“Perfect! I’ll tell Charlie. Thanks, Garth!” You call, already out the door and down the hall so he can’t change his mind.

Charlie’s just finished cleaning up the spill when you hurl yourself into the room. “Garth’s going to be taking care of Missy from now on, all right?”

“Huh?”

“Garth agreed to take on Missy Walker from now on because I’ve got so many other patients,” you say slower and avoid where she’s crouching as you walk across the floor to grab a few coffee K cups for your one at home.

“Any reason why?”

“I felt super rushed today,” you fib and hang up your coat in the closet. “Oh, can you hand me a ‘Clean’ sticker? I didn’t get peed on or anything today.”

Charlie hands you the sticker you’d asked for so Asa won’t put it in the wash unnecessarily. You stick it carefully onto the shoulder of your coat and shut the closet door.

“What time is it?” you wonder while checking your watch. It’s 5:34. You’re running a full hour ahead of schedule.

“Bye, Y/N,” Charlie calls after you as you shrug on your real coat and exit the clinic through the back door.

Since you’re turned back to yell “Bye!” you don’t notice the large form in the doorway and hit it full-speed.

“Sorry!” you squeak, taking a step back to look at the person’s face.

Asa grins at you. “Where’s the fire?”

“I drank some coffee,” you admit. “Just now.” You grin and bounce on the balls of your feet. “Good luck tonight, A!”

“See you, Y/N!” he calls after you as you hurry past him. Hopefully no dogs get hit by cars tonight. He’d love a nice, quiet night.

During work, you’d forgotten about your annoying crush and terrible luck, but the second you get into your car it all comes rushing back. You’re running a full hour early—will you see Sam when he’s coming home tonight?

You can’t help the rush of adrenaline that floods through you at the thought.

God, you really do like Sam, don’t you? That’s embarrassing. How do you make it stop?

You turn on your car and a blast of cold air slaps you in the face. It doesn’t warm up until you pull into the parking lot of the apartment building, and you roll your eyes. The car’s moderately old. You’ll have to get a new one, but not for a while.

You’d called it—Sam is in the elevator when the doors open, and you both step back with surprise.

“Sorry,” he immediately says. “Normally no one else is on the elevator at this time. You get off early?”

“Yeah,” you reply. Surprising yourself and Sam, you keep the conversation going by asking, “Were there any fires today?”

Sam shakes his head. “We cleaned up the trucks, mostly. Dean and Cas both got in trouble for making a mess in the vending machine room, but—” He stops talking and you look at him with surprise, but he’s looking down.

You’d reached for the elevator button with your bandaged hand. Sam’s eyes don’t lift from it as he asks, “What happened to your hand?” Is it just you, or does he sound… angry? Why would he be angry?

“I burnt it, actually,” you respond, torn between hiding the point of conversation so Sam will get back to talking about Cas and Dean and whatever they did because the more Sam looks at you the more you blush, and acting nonchalant about the whole thing so Sam doesn’t think you’re a wimp. “Charlie tried to take my coffee mug when it was still hot. Really, really hot. I didn’t think coffee could get hot enough to burn people, but Garth likes his drinks especially hot so I think he adjusted the machine somehow.” You stop your rambling and suck in a breath. “It’s really not a big deal,” you add as if that’ll make you seem tougher when in reality you’d just admitted you’d bandaged up your hand after spilling hot coffee on it.

“Oh. I actually heard something about that a while ago. Some woman sued McDonald’s for serving her coffee that gave her serious burns and she got compensation because McDonald’s apparently knew their coffee was dangerous and was serving it at a dangerous temperature on purpose,” Sam rambles and you frown. For some reason you’re having a serious case of deja vu, and you instinctively flinch, imagining that something just lunged for you. Why would something lunge for you?

You clear your throat after a moment of silence and prompt, “What did Cas and Dean do in the vending machine?”

Sam looks away from your hand and then at you. Dimples appear in his cheeks (you want to swoon; he has dimples?! ) as he chuckles. “They were having an indoor picnic for a date since Dean’s hours are all screwy at the moment.”

“That’s sweet,” you say softly, imagining you and Sam having a picnic inside because one of you is too busy working to have seen each other properly. When you realize what you’d been imagining, you blush and look away.

How is Sam Winchester so goddamn beautiful?

“I thought it was corny,” Sam admits. “Probably because he’s my brother.”

You duck your head. To spare you from an awkward silence, the elevator doors finally open and the two of you practically sprint to your rooms.

You heave out a sigh as you lean against your closed apartment door. You’re a mess.

Crookshanks trills at you from his spot on the counter, delighted that he’s getting treats earlier than he normally does.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you mutter, pushing yourself off the door to him. Unfortunately, you hadn’t been looking at the ground so you hadn’t noticed the liquid on the floor as well as the glass.

Your foot slips out from underneath you and you cry out as you fall back. Your hands brace your fall, but your bandaged hand smarts. You curse loudly as you roll over, shaking out your sore hand. A drop of liquid hits your face. Your fingers come away red when you touch it. There are broken glass shards sticking out of the heel of your hand and blood wells up from them quickly and stains the bandages on your hand red.

You get up carefully, minding the liquid and glass and cradle your hurt hand so as not to get blood everywhere as you pad to the sink. A steady stream of curses fall from your mouth. Crookshanks swipes at you when you walk past him without giving him treats, but you don’t even bother to humor him.

Loud knocking at the door makes you jump. “Y/N? Are you all right?” It’s Sam. Oh, so he’s conscientious as well as beautiful? There’s got to be something wrong with him. No one can be that perfect.

“I’m fine!” You call back. “My damn cat—”

“Do you need help?”

You survey the scene: you, with a bleeding and burnt hand, water and glass on the floor, Crookshanks sniffing at the crime scene—

You yelp. “Crookshanks! Get away from that! Just a second, Sam! Sorry!”

You want to wrap a towel around your hand so you don’t get blood everywhere but that would push the glass shards deeper into your skin so you just lunge for your cat and scoop him up with your good hand. You toss him into your bedroom and slam the door shut so he doesn’t hurt himself before opening up the door.

Sam takes in the drops of blood on your cheek, collarbone, and shirt, and finds the source immediately. “What happened?” he asks, carefully taking your hand by the wrist and leading you to the kitchen sink, being mindful of the mess in the hallway. You almost slip again on a drop of your own blood but he holds you up. The only thing you can think about is how embarrassed you are, and how impressed you are that he can literally hold you up with one hand without any struggle.

“My dumbass cat knocked over the cup I left out and I slipped on the water and cut my hand,” you grumble, embarrassment making your cheeks flaming. “This is just not my day, I guess.”

“That’s why you should get a dog,” Sam jokes.

“Yeah, I will, once I move,” you say, immediately brightening at the thought. “I hope Crookshanks gets along with it.”

“What kind of dog are you going to get?” Sam asks. He puts your hand over the sink and hunches down. His broad shoulders keep you from seeing what he’s doing.

Your hand is immediately the most sensitive part of your body. You feel every twitch of his fingers as they touch yours.

You wince as your hand stings and instinctively try to bring it closer to your body. Sam’s hands don’t let your hand twitch. He’s so strong.

You hate that you sound like a teenage girl with a celebrity crush.

“What are you—”

“I’m trying to get the glass out of your hand and distract you at the same time.”

“How do you know how to do that?” You’re genuinely interested; you’d thought that you would have to patch yourself up.

“Well…” Sam pauses and you wince as he gets another piece of glass from your skin. How his large fingers can be so gentle and precise, you don’t know. “My dad liked to leave beer bottles all around the house in precarious positions. Me and my brother got good at getting glass out of skin. We were pretty clumsy kids.”

It sounds like a lie, but you let it slide. It’s not like you two are close enough to be sharing family secrets.

“But back to the dog you want,” Sam says. “Describe your ideal dog.”

“Um…” You bite your lip as you stare at his muscular back and broad shoulders. “I really like—” Your voice turns into a squeak as he pulls what feels to be a particularly large shard out of your hand. “I really like big dogs, you know? So maybe a Briard—they’re really obedient, or a Neapolitan Mastiff like Brutus, Mr. Crowley’s dog. I would really like a Portugese Water dog, though. When I was younger I had a Labradoodle but she never liked the water and I really want a dog that likes to swim. My family has a lake that I own now—”

“Done.” Sam lets you go and the first thing you feel is disappointment, and then surprise. You hadn’t expected to get so distracted you wouldn’t feel the pain. You’d been so distracted you’d started to babble.

“Thanks.” You grin at him. “Can you grab the first-aid kit? It’s in that cabinet.” You point with your good hand. It’s in the only cabinet you can reach without getting on your tiptoes.

Sam hands it to you. You stick your bad hand under cool water from the faucet and pick out everything you’ll need to bandage yourself up with your other hand.

Once you’re all bandaged up, you turn around to see that Sam had cleaned up the mess on the floor.

“You didn’t need to do that,” you say, staring at the ground. You’re not quite sure what to say to Sam, the perfect gentleman.

“It really wasn’t any trouble,” he says gently, smiling down at you. The dimples hit you full-blast again.

You don’t have a response for that, so you just stare at him, and the smile slowly drops off Sam’s face as he takes a step closer to you. “Y/N—”

Your cat interrupts with a howl behind the door as he scratches it. You both look away with heated faces and you almost trip as you skirt around Sam to open the door and let him out. Crookshanks, ever an oblivious fuck, just beeps at you indignantly for locking him up and jumps onto the counter for treats.

“Thanks again, Sam,” you say with your back turned, an obvious dismissal. “If you ever need anything, let me know.”

He sighs. You don’t know why (you think you do, but there’s no way). “You too, Y/N.”

You don’t turn around until you hear the door open and close. Then you turn and slump against the counter. You shouldn’t feel this way about Sam, he’s your brother…

You frown and raise your hand to your temple. Where did that come from? Sam’s not your brother; you barely know him. You’ve been his neighbor for two years after you moved to town and only noticed him a few months ago.

You feel a headache coming on.

Crookshanks rubs his head against your arm. “I know,” you say absently to him and scratch the base of his tail. “I know. Weird.” You pick him up.

He meows, only the sound comes from behind you and not from in your arms.

You whirl, your hand flying to where you keep your gun, only there’s no gun in your waistband. You’ve never even held a gun. Why would you keep a gun in your waistband? You are crashing hard from that cup of coffee. You need to sleep.

After setting an alarm on your phone for 8 o’clock and making sure it’s plugged in and charging, you fall onto the bed. It only takes you a few minutes to fall asleep, which is a new record for you—it’s hard to relax sometimes.

For some reason you dream that Sam and Dean Winchester are standing over your sleeping form and shaking you. You wake up halfway multiple times, positive that someone actually touched you, but it was either only Crookshanks or your imagination.

You scowl in your sleep as Dream-Dean and Sam beg you to do something. You would do it if you could make out what they want you to do.

Sam can’t seem to take his eyes off your lifeless form, face paler than he’s ever seen.

“I don’t understand,” Dean says. “Y/N knows what a djinn world looks like. Why won’t she wake up?”

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes

[taronunwin]

No Rest for the Wicked

Author’s note: This is my take on what a chapter from the canon ‘No Rest for the Wicked’ book by Chuck (Carver Edlund) might have looked like. There aren’t 19 other chapters somewhere, it’s just my best guess for where this part of the story would have landed in the book. Part 2 will be found here soon.

Also if I may impose, this story is best read while listening to this.

Chapter 20 (part 1) by Carver Edlund

Sam had never really been alone. After his mom died, John and Dean kept a watchful eye on the youngest Winchester at all times. If John wasn't watching him, Dean was, and if Dean wasn't for some reason, John was. It was a mostly unspoken rule: never leave Sammy alone long enough for anything bad to happen.

It wasn't that his father or brother didn't trust him but they cared about his safety above everything, above even their own. Sam couldn't count the number of times John or Dean had been hurt in Sam's place or in an effort to keep Sam out of harm's way.

And after Sam had that final screaming match with John about Sam's goals and desires for a normal, safe life, he had Jessica. They met a couple weeks into the semester. Brady introduced them and Sam finally had the opportunity to keep someone else safe, and he did it well. The first time Jess said that she loved him was while she'd been a bit tipsy after a particularly fun Friday night and she had tripped going down the stairs outside her apartment. Sam caught her just before she fell and, though obviously still under the influence of the tequila she'd been enjoying, she looked at him as though perfectly sober and quietly said, "I love you, Sam." The slight slur of her words didn't take away from the impact of what she said.

Though he wasn't sure if her confession was a result of him saving her from injury or if it was genuine, Sam replayed that statement over and over again in his mind in the following days until she said it again, this time totally sober.

He moved in with her a couple days later.

Jess may not have known everything about him, or even most of his history, but she loved him for him—the real Sam that he rarely let his family see, and for the first time, he felt heard and understood.

After Dean showed up out of the blue, Sam spent the next few days feeling torn between his old life and the new one he’d worked so damn hard for. At the end of their hunting trip, he felt less alone than ever because he had made peace with his old life, and Dean, and had so much to look forward to.

Until that bright future, and the young, hopeful, beautiful woman who had been the foundation of his success, the one who cheered him on through any doubts, burst into flames.

Then, he had Dean again. And eventually John. When their father died, Dean became his anchor—the one person who never left him, who was always there.

Until that constant came to a shocking end, too.

Ruby’s body lay on the floor, a shell of the two demons that had controlled her. In any other instance, Sam would have rushed over to check if the girl was still alive but he didn’t care at all about her at that moment.

The demon’s blade still poised high in a failed attempt to kill Lillith, Sam’s eyes moved from the girl to his brother. He had seen some of the hellhound’s attack but spent the majority of those eternity-long-seconds with his vision blurred, screaming, begging for Lillith to put an end to it before it was too late. But now it was too late.

Sam knew that even before he walked on trembling legs to Dean’s side. He moved closer, eyes glued to Dean’s, praying that he would blink. He could still hear Dean’s own screams as the invisible dog tore through his body like he was a cheap toy. The eldest brother was never one to let on how much pain he was in, always more eager to make a joke or answer an ‘are you okay?’ with a snarky retort rather than cry or complain, but the raw wails of agony spoke to the pain that had been inflicted. And Sam had been powerless to stop it.

Dropping slowly to his knees, Sam looked over Dean’s body, barely fighting sobs as he lifted his brother’s head. The weight of him surprised Sam. Dean wasn’t helping lift himself as he always did.

If the fact that Dean’s eyes were open, unfocused and unblinking, didn’t tell Sam that his brother’s soul was gone, the physical damage did. Where there wasn’t blood, there was shredded fabric and torn skin. Sam wanted to look away, to vomit at the sight, but he focused instead on Dean’s face again.

Somehow, Dean looked peaceful.

“No,” Sam whispered, as though saying it would undo the damage and bring Dean back. He willed it to be undone, to have his brother back. Through unyielding tears and sobs that threatened to choke him, Sam stared at Dean’s eyes. He waited, held his breath, for Dean to move. He didn’t look dead, whatever dead should have looked like. He just looked like... Dean.

The second time he tried to verbally refuse what he was seeing, the horror that he wanted to look away from, the sound barely resembled the two letters. The last thing he said before losing all ability to speak as the weight of what had happened, and the blame that so easily settled on his shoulders broke him, was one single word. He’d said it, called it, screamed it, yelled it so many times before, but this time it was different. It was filled up with quiet anguish; ‘I’m sorry’, ‘I love you’, and ‘goodbye’ all rolled up in one word: Dean.

And Sam wept. Even while cradling his brother’s broken body, he was more alone than ever before.

[your-dietician]

2021 MLB Mock Draft: High school shortstops, Vanderbilt arms among the top prospects

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2021 MLB Mock Draft: High school shortstops, Vanderbilt arms among the top prospects

The MLB Draft is just over a week away, and unlike in past years, there is no slam dunk pick for No. 1. 

In past years, it was just a question of how fast the Orioles could announce the pick of Oregon State catcher Adley Rutschman (2019) or whether the Tigers would start playing Arizona State hitter Spencer Torkelson at first base or third base (2020). 

This year, there is a strong group of high school shortstops, a pair of exciting Vanderbilt pitchers and a few college bats that could generate some buzz anywhere in the top 10. 

We’re taking our best shot at what the draft will look like when the commissioner reads the first-round picks on July 11. 

MORE: Who is confirmed to swing in the Home Run Derby? 

Here’s our latest projections for a 2021 MLB Draft first round. 

1. Pirates — Marcelo Mayer, SS, Eastlake High (Chula Vista, Calif.)

The discussion around this draft has been that there is no consensus No. 1 pick as there has been in previous years, but the Pirates have been linked to Mayer for a long time. The high school shortstop has one of the best hit tools and some raw power that excites many scouts, especially when combined with his above-average defense at shortstop. 

2. Rangers — Jordan Lawlar, SS, Jesuit Prep (Dallas)

The Rangers are going with the local product second overall here. Lawlar is perhaps a more dynamic talent than Mayer with his speed and power combination, but his hit tool and defense are behind the California product. A shortstop with tons of upside and a home just a few miles from Globe Life Park? It feels like a perfect fit for the rebuilding Rangers. 

3. Tigers — Brady House, SS, Winder-Barrow (Ga.) High

Prep shortstops now round out the top three as the Tigers opt to go for the upside in House’s bat over the dynamic arms of Jack Leiter and Jackson Jobe. House might have to move off shortstop eventually to play third base as he is not the most agile, but his bat will play anywhere on the diamond. House and Spencer Torkelson could make for an enviable middle-of-the-order combination down the road. 

4. Red Sox — Jack Leiter, RHP, Vanderbilt

The run on high school shortstops finally comes to an end at No. 4 with the Red Sox landing the son of former big leaguer Al Leiter. Vanderbilt’s ace has reportedly wanted to land in Boston and he’ll have the leverage himself down to the Red Sox as the top college arm. He’s so refined on the mound that he might not take long in the minors and could help the resurgent Red Sox earlier than many other prospects in this year’s draft. 

5. Orioles — Sal Frelick, OF, Boston College

The Orioles might be tempted to take the best talent off the board left in catcher Henry Davis of Louisville, even with top catching prospect Adley Rutschman in their system, but Baltimore is saving money and taking the Boston College outfielder early. Baltimore made a similar move last year in reaching to take Arkansas outfielder Heston Kjerstad second overall, but this time instead of power upside, the Orioles go for Frelick and his hit/speed combination. 

6. Diamondbacks — Henry Davis, C, Louisville

Arizona has been linked to other names like Kahlil Watson and Jackson Jobe, but if Davis is available here, the Diamondbacks would probably jump at the chance to take him. He’s a college catcher with a refined hit tool and plus power who should be able to stay at the position as he’s continued to improve behind the plate. Even if he can’t hold up there defensively, Davis offers plenty in the bat to make him worthy of a high pick. 

7. Royals — Kumar Rocker, RHP, Vanderbilt

With recent high-round picks of Brady Singer, Jackson Kowar and Asa Lacy, the Royals have established they’re big on SEC pitching. It just so happens that a dynamic SEC hurler is available for them to take at this spot. Rocker was already coveted out of high school, and he’s gotten even better with improved command and refined secondary offerings. He might have the most upside of any of the college arms taken by Kansas City in recent years. 

8. Rockies — Kahlil Watson, SS, Wake Forest (N.C.) High

Watson has generated a lot of buzz to go higher than No. 8 and could be a potential pick to go as high as No. 2 to the Rangers, but here, he’s falling to the Rockies. He has flown up prospect rankings of late due to his complete game, with the ability to hit for average and power, his speed and his slick defense at shortstop. The Rockies reportedly want a hitter, and they’d be more than happy with landing Watson. 

9. Angels — Jackson Jobe, RHP, Heritage Hall High (Oklahoma City)

Another team very happy to land a high upside prep player, the Angels watch as Jobe falls to them at No. 9. Evaluators have said Jobe might have the most upside of any pitcher in this class — yes, even higher than the Vandy arms — with premium velocity and the best slider in the draft. Jobe has ace potential and the Angels would welcome the chance to work on developing him into that arm.  

10. Mets — Matt McLain, SS, UCLA

The Mets have been linked to several college bats, as well as prep third baseman Colson Montgomery as a bonus-saving pick, but here they’ll take the top college infielder in this year’s class. McLain came into the 2021 year ranked much higher by evaluators, but got off to a slow start. He put it together near the end of the season and his plus hit tool, speed and the potential to add power could make him an enticing prospect. 

11. Nationals — Ty Madden, RHP, Texas

The Nationals would love it for Jobe to fall to them, but it’s not happening in this mock. Instead, they’re going to draft the top college arm left in Texas’ Ty Madden. The right-hander has mid-90s velocity, a sharp slider and above-average control that makes him a refined pitching prospect and a pitcher many see as being a potential front-of-the-rotation starter. 

12. Mariners — Colton Cowser, OF, Sam Houston

An outfield of Jarred Kelenic, Kyle Lewis and Taylor Trammell already sounds pretty good. Do the Mariners need more? Well, it’s always best to take the most talented player left and that’s the case with Cowser still on the board. Seattle wants a bat to draft, and Cowser offers one of the best college hit/speed combinations in this year’s class. 

13. Phillies — Benny Montgomery, OF, Red Land High (Lewisberry, Pa.)

The Phillies have been consistently linked to the central Pennsylvania product, who might have the most upside of any player in the draft. The hit tool has drawn questions from scouts, but he’s one of the fastest players in the draft, offers tons of raw power and can play above-average defense in center field. 

14. Giants — Jordan Wicks, LHP, Kansas State

After Cowser and Frelick are off the board, San Francisco will probably be looking at Wicks as their pick. Far and away the best left-handed college pitcher in the draft, Wicks has perhaps the class’ best changeup and above-average command. He could be a quick riser in the minors given his advanced feel for pitching and well-rounded repertoire. 

15. Brewers — Harry Ford, C, North Cobb High (Kennesaw, Ga.)

Ford is one of the most interesting players in the draft as a catcher with an above-average run tool and the ability to play any position on the field, including center field. The Brewers have been linked to Ford and would love to add the athletic backstop with the lightning fast bat to their farm system should he fall to them at No. 15. 

16.  Marlins — Will Taylor, OF, Dutch Fork High (Irmo, S.C.)

Reports have indicated it will take a lot to pry Taylor from a dual commitment to play football and baseball at Clemson in the 2021-22 school year, but here, Miami is going to count on being able to sign him away from the Tigers. He’s one of the most athletic players in this year’s draft with one of the best run tools and the ability to develop some more power with more development. 

17. Reds — Bubba Chandler, RHP/SS, North Oconee High (Bogart, Ga.)

The Reds have loved picking dual-threat talents in previous years, with Michael Lorenzen showing off his prowess with the bat as a bonus to his pitching skills and Hunter Greene getting the chance to bat before focusing full-time on pitching. Cincinnati will try the experiment out again with Chandler here, looking to see if the tooled-out shortstop makes more of a statement with the bat or if his lights-out fastball/curveball combo forces the team to look more at his arm. 

18. Cardinals — Will Bednar, RHP, Mississippi State

After a dazzling outing in the final game of the College World Series to help deliver his team the win, Bednar is certainly going to be continuing his rise up prospect rankings. The Cardinals have been linked to several college arms and Bednar with his plus command and standout array of pitches would fit the team’s desire in this draft nicely. 

19. Blue Jays — Sam Bachman, RHP, Miami (Ohio)

Bachman’s slide down the board stops here. The Blue Jays have found success with hard-throwing college arms in the past like Nate Pearson and Alec Manoah, and they’ll jump on Bachman if he’s available in this spot. The Miami (Ohio) product already hits triple-digits and has one of the hardest fastballs in the draft. On top of that, he offers a wipeout slider and above-average changeup to give him a well-rounded repertoire. 

20. Yankees — Gunnar Hoglund, RHP, Mississippi

Before he went down with Tommy John surgery, Hoglund was viewed as a possible front half of the first round talent. If the Yankees are willing to wait on him to come back from surgery, as they did with South Carolina hurler Clarke Schmidt back in 2017, who also underwent surgery before the draft, they could be getting a steal. His control is among the best in the draft and his repertoire is deep with a plus fastball and slider. 

21. Cubs — Michael McGreevy, RHP, UC Santa Barbara

Chicago has also been linked with Florida outfielder Jud Fabian, a risky gamble on a player with upside, but here the Cubs are going the safe route with a pitcher that has drawn comps to fellow Gaucho Shane Bieber. McGreevy draws positive marks for his well above-average control and his fastball/slider combination that could see an increase in velocity with some more development in his 6-foot-4 frame. 

22. White Sox — Colson Montgomery, 3B, Southridge High (Huntingburg, Ind.)

Some rumors have had Montgomery going higher in the draft as a chance for a team to cut a deal and save money for later, but he’s falling down to No. 22 here to the White Sox. Chicago has been linked to the 19-year-old slugging third baseman, who would give the farm system a big upside play as a potential middle-of-the-order bat. 

23. Indians — Jud Fabian, OF, Florida

The Indians have shown a willingness in previous drafts to gamble on upside early over the higher floor players, and that’s what Fabian offers them. A tough 2021 dropped Fabian in rankings from potentially being the first college bat taken to possibly even a second-rounder, but he has tons of raw power and offers the speed needed to play all three outfield positions. If Cleveland can get him to click, it could be getting a steal late in the first. 

24. Braves — Ky Bush, LHP, Saint Mary’s

Atlanta is seemingly linked to arms every year in the draft and have done well with several recent high picks like Mike Soroka and Max Fried having positive impacts on the team. Here, they’re taking the hard-throwing lefty from Saint Mary’s, Ky Bush. If the Braves want to speed him to the big leagues, he could be a weapon out of the bullpen quickly with his fastball/slider combination, or they could work him as a starter over time. 

25. Athletics — Alex Mooney, SS, St. Mary’s Prep (Orchard Lake Village, Mich.)

Mooney has made quite a rise up prospect rankings with his quick swing and a well-rounded game at shortstop. Oakland has been linked to a number of different bats and Mooney could fit what the A’s are looking for as a player that offers some upside at an up-the-middle position while also providing a high enough floor as a player already displaying impressive tools. 

26. Minnesota Twins — Adrian Del Castillo, C, Miami

Del Castillo was an early favorite among evaluators as a catcher with an exciting hit tool and some pop with the potential to stay behind the plate. Struggles in the 2021 campaign have taken him out of the conversation as the first catcher taken, but the Twins have been linked to him with the belief they could still tap into that potential and have a bat-first backstop. 

27. San Diego Padres — Andrew Painter, RHP, Calvary Christian (Fort Lauderdale, Fla.)

The Padres have not shied away from taking tooled-out players early in the draft in the past, and they’ll nab one of the highest-upside pitchers in the class with Andrew Painter falling to them at No. 27. Painter has an explosive arm with three plus pitches and above-average control, and at 6-foot-7, there could be room for adding more velo. He could go much earlier than this spot when draft day comes. 

28. Tampa Bay Rays — Trey Sweeney, SS, Eastern Illinois

In a short amount of time, Sweeney has improved his draft stock by showing off one of the best hit tools in college and some pop that could grow to be an average or better tool for him. The Rays have shown in the past they can do a lot with high floor batters and Sweeney fits that mold well. His defense at short isn’t great, but the bat would play in the outfield or at third base if needed. 

29. Dodgers — Chase Petty, RHP, Mainland (Linwood, N.J.)

Few teams have the track record of successfully developing high upside prospects like the Dodgers, and they’re banking on getting the most out of Petty in this year’s class. Perhaps the owner of the best raw stuff of any high school pitcher, Petty throws in the upper-90s with a fastball in the triple-digits and can spin a plus slider and average to above-average changeup. Some teams have concerns over reliever risk, but here, Los Angeles sees front-of-the-rotation potential.

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[racingtoaredlight]

RTARL’s 2020 NFL Season Week 3 Extravapalooza

Immediately coming out of Week 2 the national conversation was focused mainly on the fact that my picks went a very respectable 10-5. But, after running out of superlatives to describe my handicapping skills, the discourse shifted in the direction of the absolutely brutal spate of injuries that took place. Saquon Barkley, Nick Bosa, and Courtland Sutton were all lost for the season with torn ACLs, and Christian McCaffery, Brandon Scherff, Jimmy Garoppolo, Drew Lock and a whole bunch of others went down with various tweaks and tears that will keep them out of game action for multiple weeks. That’s a lot of really good players! And Jimmy Garoppolo! 

There seemed to be a desire to chalk up a lot of the injuries to a lack of preseason game action, but I’m not smart enough to know if that theory has any merit. Hopefully, it was just a freak occurrence and we won’t see another week like that any time soon. If I can make a bold statement that I’m sure nobody has ever mentioned before: the NFL is a lot more fun when the best players are on the field.

My picks are in BOLD, and the lines come to us courtesy of our friends at Vegas Insider. I use the “VI Consensus” line, which is the line that occurs most frequently across Vegas Insider’s list of sportsbooks. Your sportsbook of choice may offer a different number, and if you’d like my opinion on said number A) you are insane, and B) leave a comment below and I’ll try to answer at some point before things kickoff today.

EARLY GAMES

Los Angeles Rams at Buffalo Bills (-2)

The Bills have looked great in their first two games, no doubt about it. BUT, those two games were against the incomprehensibly shitty Jets and a Dolphins team that I don’t think anyone would call world-beaters. The Rams represent a huge step up in weight class, and I’m not sure how the Bills will handle it. I still love Josh Allen and believe in the Bills in general, but this game might be a little shock to the system for them.

Chicago Bears at Atlanta Falcons (-3)

I’ve read a few takes saying that a trip to Atlanta to play against a ghastly Falcons secondary is going to make Mitchell Trubisky and the Bears offense look much better than they are, but what this pick presupposes is that a meeting with Mitchell will make the Falcons secondary look better than they are.

Washington Football Team at Cleveland Browns (-7)

I know they gave up 30 points last week, but The Football Team’s defense has played really well through two games so far. They mauled the Eagles in a Week 1 victory that saw them sack Carson Wentz 8 times, intercept him twice and hold Philly to 57 rushing yards (3.4 yards per attempt) TOTAL. In Week 2, they held Arizona RB Kenyan Drake in check for the most part (86 total yards, 4.3 per rush) and managed to pick off Kyler Murray once while sacking him three times. Washington was done in by Calimari’s running ability, which is gonna happen to a lot of teams, I reckon. Baker Mayfield is no Kyler Murray when it comes to his wheels, so I’m taking the 7 points.

Tennessee Titans (-2.5) at Minnesota Vikings

Minnesota has looked DREADFUL so far, getting whomped by the Packers and then the Colts. I honestly don’t have a great reason for picking them, other than thinking “they can’t be THIS bad.” If this year has taught us anything, it’s that thinking things can’t get worse is pretty stupid, yet here I am. The only aspect of this game I have any confidence in prediction-wise is in saying that it’ll be the first early game to wrap up. These teams are gonna run, run, and then run some more.

Las Vegas Raiders at New England Patriots (-6.5)

Last week, I once again picked against the Raiders, and they once again made me look stupid by not only covering, but winning outright. So help me if Cam Newton leads New England to an absolute thrashing of this collection of assholes he will immediately become my favorite Patriot ever. 

If I wanted to give a non-spite related reason for my pick, I’d mention that Las Vegas will be without rookie WR Henry Ruggs , LB Nick Kwiatkoski and T Trent Brown, and that G Denzelle Good, T Sam Young, TE Darren Waller and RB Josh Jacobs are all Questionable as of this writing. I’m totally picking against them out of spite, though.

San Francisco 49ers (-3) at New York Giants

The Niners were absolutely wrecked by injuries last week, and now they’re playing again on the same turf that they feel took out their comrades. I can’t help but wonder if that’ll be in their heads a little bit, and if there’s anyone who knows the minds of NFL players, it’s a guy who’s never even attended a school at any level that fielded a football team. Nick Mullens is a pretty good backup QB, and it’s not like he’s replacing Russell Wilson, but still. I can’t take an injury-riddled road favorite starting a backup QB. Seats are rapidly opening up on the Daniel Jones bandwagon, but I remain resolute...for now.

Cincinnati Bengals at Philadelphia Eagles (-4)

I’m really torn here, because I am all the way in on The Joe Burrow Experience and want good things for him, but if the Eagles come out looking like an exploded diaper again it’s gonna get really awkward and depressing in Philadelphia, and I can’t handle feeling even more secondhand cringe and despair in these trying times. I’d greatly prefer a middling Eagles season that keeps their fans’ rage at no more than a simmer, and for that to be the case they’re gonna need to win decisively here. Sorry, Joe.

Houston Texans at Pittsburgh Steelers (-4)

After dealing with Daniel Jones in Week 1 and the Drew Lock/Jeff Driskel Combo Meal in Week 2, the Steelers defense will now have to contend with DeShaun Watson. In my expert football-knower opinion, this will be a more difficult challenge for them. Conversely, the Texans started their year with games against the Chiefs and then the Ravens, and while I do think the Steelers are pretty good, they’re a step below those two death squads. In what’s become a running theme in my picks this week, I think a bit of equilibrium is restored and the Texans have somewhat of a get-right game while Pittsburgh gets taken down a peg.

LATE GAMES

Carolina Panthers at Los Angeles Chargers (-6.5)

This is a tough one. Conventional wisdom says 6.5 is a pretty big number for a rookie QB in his second start, though like everyone else I thought Justin Herbert looked more than legit in his debut. The L.A. defense has been fantastic, and they’re plenty good enough to paper over any potential rookie mistakes from their QB. 

I’m going with the Chargers less because of them and more because of how poor the Carolina offense has looked so far. Teddy Bridgewater is a great story and I’m glad he got himself a nice contract after his horrific leg injury in Minnesota, but he hasn’t looked like an NFL starter this year. New Panthers OC Joe Brady performed a miracle and gave the LSU Tigers an offense for the ages, so he clearly knows what he’s doing. Maybe the Panthers will get it together as the season goes on, but for this week I don’t see it, especially without all-world RB Christian McCaffery. 

New York Jets at Indianapolis Colts (-11.5)

11.5! That’s a large number for a pro game, and it’s terrible that I didn’t have to grapple all that much with laying the points. The Jets have looked historically awful and I feel bad for everyone on their sideline except for Adam Gase and Gregg Williams. Fuck those two. I don’t have a solid read on the Colts quite yet, but I’ve been around long enough to know that a Phillip Rivers-led squad would NEVER blow a layup like this.

Tampa Bay Buccaneers (-6) at Denver Broncos

I get that Tampa Bay is the road team here, but A) there are no fans in the stands, B) Denver has lost several key players to injury and C) they’re starting Jeff Driskel at Quarterback. The Bucs giving less than a TD seems odd to me. Maybe there’s some concern about the altitude affecting Tom Brady’s elderly lungs, or about the possibility of Rob Gronkowski buying thousands of dollars worth of edibles in Denver and mixing them in with the pregame spread. Classic Gronk move, imo.

Detroit Lions at Arizona Cardinals (-5.5)

I don’t see any way the Lions slow down this Cardinals offense, so their only hope is to outscore them. If stud WR Kenny Golladay were healthy I’d like Detroit’s chances a whole lot more, but he’s listed as Questionable with an injured hammy at the moment and on Friday assessed his situation as follows: “Wouldn’t say it’s 100 percent. I really wouldn’t even put a percentage on it, I just know I’m not 100 percent.” That doesn’t sound great to me, but I don’t come from an All Medical family, so I could be wrong.

Dallas Cowboys at Seattle Seahawks (-5)

The formerly formidable Seattle Seahawks secondary has given up 450 passing yards to Matt Ryan, and 397 yards to Cam Newton in their two games this season, while the Cowboys were also carved up by Matty Ice (lol) in their insanely improbable Week 2 win. Both of these passing attacks are fantastic, so this feels like an absolute orgy of touchdowns in the making. This game has the week’s highest over-under at 56.5, so I’m not exactly breaking any new ground with this analysis. That’s really the main hallmark of this blog series, now that I think about it. 

SNF: Green Bay Packers at New Orleans Saints (-3)

This game would be a lot more fun if All-Pro WRs Michael Thomas and Davante Adams were suiting up at 100% for their respective teams, but sometimes the Football Gods are dicks. Thomas is OUT with an ankle injury, and as of this writing Adams is being called a game-time decision with a bad hamstring. I’m guessing the game is gonna be more Aaron Jones vs Alvin Kamara than the Aaron Rodgers vs Drew Brees matchup it’s being billed as. That’s still plenty good enough to get me to tune in, as those guys are great in their own right. All things being equal, I trust Aaron Rodgers more to make chicken salad out of chicken shit against the Saints D at this point in time, so I’m giving Green Bay the edge. 

Every time Sean Payton takes his 1st ballot Hall of Fame QB off the field in favor of Taysom Hill, an angel gets its oxycodone prescription refilled. 

MNF: Kansas City Chiefs at Baltimore Ravens (-3.5)

My feelings on this game can be summed up by one of the great orators of modern times, “The Nature Boy” Ric Flair:

Last Week’s Record: 10-5

Season Record: 19-11-1

[bestest]

001: SETH + HIS MINDSET THROUGHOUT ECLIPSE.

Alright, so. I’m gonna start from before the fight even happens. Earlier in the movie, Jacob talks about Seth changing along with Leah, and the fact that the pack keeps him home studying instead of out with the rest of the group. At that point, he’s the youngest member of the pack ( Collin and Brady join in BD I think? ), and they’re trying to keep him focused on his studies to preserve his future. They don’t want to put him in danger, and that extends into his assignment in the fight.

He’s used as a messenger, running all the way up the mountainside to tell Edward and Bella that the fight’s starting. Seth is still eager to help out, feeling like that’s the chance to prove to Sam and the others that he can handle his own, and really be a part of the pack instead of someone to just sit on the bench. But yeah, they put him all the way up there, not expecting him to get into any danger.

Also, important note for later: he’s too far away to really hear the rest of the pack’s thoughts, or broadcast his own to them.

Victoria and Riley weren’t supposed to catch onto Edward’s scent and figure out the plan, but they do. Seth stays with them, just out of sight, hidden right behind the tree line. He stays there and waits, listening to the conversation between Edward, Riley, and Victoria. He feels the instinctual urge to attack Riley, but he’s also listening to Edward try to reason with him. Riley’s a local kid, from Forks. He’s young, and was clearly manipulated in some way by Victoria. He gets flashbacks to the training scene, where he’d decided so quickly that the Cullens weren’t bad ( there’s also the fact that they drink animal blood and not human blood, which renders them as less of a threat, which doesn’t make him as uneasy around them than vampires like Riley / Victoria but that’s a thing for another time! ), and he can feel that pull about Riley, too. That hope-filled side of him, thinking perhaps there’s more to this than he thought.

All of that ends when Riley actually lunges towards them. It’s instantaneous, he doesn’t even move a foot before Seth jumps out from behind the hill, grabbing and attacking him in a way that nobody’s ever seen before. There’s a mix of the instinctual need to protect and the fact that, at that point, he’d already considered Bella and Edward close friends. There’s double the motivation, and so he starts trying to rip him to shreds.

He only gets distracted once Edward starts struggling with Victoria, which gives Riley the chance to get the upper hand and kick his head into the rock. Seth lets out a cry and lies there, moving every once in a while. He’s not completely passed out, but really disoriented. He moves again once Bella dashes for the rock, remembering the story they’d both heard. He doesn’t have to read her mind to know exactly what she was planning. She makes the cut against her arm, and just like the story of the third wife, all three vampires get distracted. He goes in for the kill, dragging him behind the hill as he continues to scream for Victoria. He’s still wrapped up on adrenaline, so he’s able to finish the job and kill him. He comes back as soon as Edward kills Victoria, and that snarl that comes out of his mouth is his way of telling both of them that he did it.

Edward then reads Alice’s mind, and they figure out that something’s wrong. They go back down the mountain, and Seth isn’t on screen anymore. For the sake of me needing to know, he’s doing one last perimeter run, making sure that no newborns were sneaking off towards Forks. He comes back right as the pack starts carrying the injured Jacob back to Billy’s, and before he can shift back and ask what happened, Sam tells him to run ahead and warn Billy and Sue. He sprints over there, and he’s the one that has to break the news about what happened. He struggles shifting back for a couple minutes, just because of all the emotions flooding through him. It feels familiar, the same panic that he’d felt during the night of his first shift, when he’d watched his father die after Leah shifted for the first time. He doesn’t even want to think about the possibility of losing his brother, too. He’s eventually able to calm himself down enough to shift, and he tells Billy who immediately calls Seth’s mom, knowing they’re going to need all of the help they can get.

He’s standing outside of Jacob’s house as Carlisle’s re-breaking his bones, standing next to Embry and Quil. Seth can’t even look at anybody, staring at the gravel on the ground and wincing every time Jacob screams. His head whips up as soon as Carlisle walks outside, and he stays out there with the others for the rest of the night.

Also, it’s outside the house that he figures out that it was Leah that Jacob was protecting. The fact that his sister could have died if Jacob hadn’t stepped in only adds more unease to the whole thing. And if she had died, he wouldn’t have been able to do anything as he didn’t arrive until after Jacob stepped in and saved her.

He doesn’t talk about what he did on the mountaintop, and the killing doesn���t really hit him until after Jacob’s in a stable condition. Because they remain in their human form for the rest of the night, nobody can read his thoughts. If they bring it up or ask about it, he deflects it. Nobody really pries because they’re all worried about Jacob, so he doesn’t have to try that hard. Since they were too far for the pack telepathy to kick in, the only people that know that Seth killed Riley are himself, Bella, and Edward.

As for how he copes? For the first part of it, it’s mainly denial. The rest of the pack finds out as soon as they all shift again, because he’s still thinking about it. He says that he didn’t tell them because he didn’t think it was that important, that Jacob’s incident was much more urgent than Seth’s first kill, especially since the rest of them had killed multiple people. He thinks he’s supposed to be used to it, that it’s a normal occurrence.

It keeps him up for a while, which is a concern in itself because he’s always been known as the kid that could sleep through anything. He sleeps through thunderstorms and has no idea they happened the next morning - it’s a running joke in the pack and in his family. After the incident, he struggles with nightmares for a while. He hears Riley screaming out for Victoria, and then Jacob screaming right after. They sound almost the same - full of pain - and he finds himself questioning Riley’s humanity because of it. Wondering why he didn’t hesitate, and if he should have like he did with the Cullens.

Eventually, he talks to Jacob and Leah about it, fully allowing himself to open up and share how everything made him feel. He knows that it was the right thing to do - if he hadn’t steeped in, Edward and Bella could have died. He doesn’t regret stopping him, and would do it again in a heartbeat if he had to, but it’s still hard for him to wrap his head around.

He’d been asking to prove himself to the pack for months; to get out and get a real taste of the danger that came with protecting his people, but he hadn’t meant for his chance to appear the way it did.