#freaking out with a friend about it because oh my god

[tiramissyoucake]

"Reader who fucking despises Mark Grayson but is an Invincible superfan"

Dude pleaaaaase write a small story to that, image reader even being a bitch or somewhat a bully to mark, but he can't even take her serious since shes wearing his merch

"fuck you looking at?"

"um, is that... an invincible keychain?"

"yeah. So what? Wanna choke on it?"

"no, I uh... Looks good."

– 💪🏽

This is less a story and more a ramble because GGRRRR I LOVE THIS IDEA I hope u like this <3

Mark is never going to live down the loser allegations because he knows deep down, he's too excited to be on the receiving end of your hatred.

But the thing that really made him fall in love with you is when he saved you as Invincible one day from a collapsing building, and you looked up at him with an expression he's never seen on you— god you looked so in love with him he almost ripped his mask off and revealed it was actually him all along.

You were always so... guarded around him, glaring at him and calling him a weirdo for staring at you too long and scowling whenever he'd have to talk to you, your disgusted gaze made him feel so small (regardless of whether he was taller or not) and he'd immediately look down and fidget with his hands.

And now, the tables were turned, he sets you down nearby and watches you under the guise of concern for a citizen, you were actually flustered this time, thanking him with a stutter and looking anywhere but at him as you fixed your clothes and your hair, under the layering and accessories he caught a glimpse of an Invincible shirt, god you were so cute.

"Anything for my biggest fan." He gives you his best smile while pointing at your shirt, an embarrassed laugh escapes you as you try to cover it with folded arms. "Again, thank you...! I really admire you and everything you do for the city...!"

He could die happy here and now, this was the first non-hostile exchanged he's ever had with you and you didn't even know it was with him of all people; Mark, the loser comic geek from your school.

He gave you a casual salute before flying off to deal with the rest of the threat, he could feel your gaze following him, ever since then he's been on cloud nine.

The following days since then, you're more freaked out by his behaviour, he's staring way more than he usually does. You had to restrain a groan as he approached your locker. "Hey, (Name)? I wanted to ask—"

"Thought I told you to fuck off, Grayson." You immediately responded, you could recognize that infuriating unsure tone anywhere.

"Well— I was gonna ask if you have a partner for that biology project?"

"... uh-huh, and why would I partner up with you?" You shut your locker, readjusting your bag on your shoulder.

Mark blinked before continuing. "Wh- Uh, well... because we're in the same biology class? And we.. both don't have partners?"

"Never noticed you there." Ouch, okay. Not the worst he's heard from you. "I have a partner, bye."

"Wait! Seriously..? I asked everyone and no one—" Mark paused when you groaned and whipped your head to look at him. "Can you stay out of my damn business?! My answer is no, go beg for another partner, creep!"

Your response left no room for an argument or a reply, and neither did the annoyed expression on your face. Mark raised his hands in surrender and watched you turn away, mumbling profanities about him, something something 'fuckin' geek'

He would've been dejected but he saw the cutest miniature figure charm of his hero alter ego hanging off the zipper of your bag, swinging back and forth with every step you took and he immediately remembered that cute timid girl who thanked him oh so sweetly for saving her life. He was sure if he peeked into your locker, he'd see posters or pictures of Invincible hung up for either moral support or pure admiration.

Your back was turned to him as the smuggest smile made its way onto his lips, you'd be wrapped around his finger soon enough, he just needed to play a little waiting game- him and his 'good friend' Invincible got all the time in the world.

[star2fishmeg]

Hear me out Luke having a wet dream and you waking him up to help him out. He’s all embarrassed and you keep on reassuring him that there is nothing to be ashamed of😳

Luke’s mortified. You’re speechless. You’re sitting up, duvet pushed down the bed you’re sharing because your friends just happened to make a last-minute room switch (typical) and you’re staring at each other. He feels his cheeks burn pink, words bumbling on his tongue and you have so many electric feelings surging through you.

It’s not that weird, you’re both adults and you’ve known each other since you were eighteen, thick as thieves but a lot of things about Luke made your heart hammer and stomach flutter and a lot of things about you made him forget how to speak and act normally. But this was different…and you were kind of into it.

He opened his mouth to speak, his hands falling to his crotch to hide his cock, briefs soaked, and you catch the glint of white seeping through. “I-oh God, I’m sorry I’ll-it’s not what, well it is but it’s-”

“It’s okay,” you smile, your voice soft and he’s watching your eyes, “happens, nothin’ serious.”

“You’re..not…grossed out?” he mutters, shoulders relaxing. There’s a huge relief that washes through him; he could have been worse but he’s glad it you who caught him in a wet dream and not one of the guys. He knows that it’ll take a lot for you to screw your nose up at him, as comforting as that was. “Like, this isn’t literally disgusting to you at all? I just came next to you…from my own dream…”

“Well, what were you dreaming about?” 

He pauses.

‘Oh? So, me, underneath him.’ Springs to your head.

“...doesn’t matter, gonna clean up. Sorry for waking you.” He blurts, shifting around to stand but you’re reaching forward and curling your fingers around the waistband of his boxers, tugging them back. You know you shouldn’t look, but you can’t help scanning his ass and thighs - they’re so obnoxious and you feel like he displays them purposely because he knows they make your pussy throb.

“Lu, it’s okay, it’s normal…” the words fall out faster than you can think about it, eyes wide as they peer up at him and he knows there’s no way he’ll be able to calm down as long as you’re here. The words bounce at the front of your mind and your gut feeling screams. “I…I can help…if you want…”

He should decline, turn away and go to the bathroom, keep what you have between you but you’re both destined magnets at this point, but he lets that warm, fuzzy feeling inside him decide. He turns around, blinking and you let go of the back of his waistband to slip your hand into his, leading him back into the bed. You push him back into the pillows, propping yourself up next to him while you other hand cups his cheek gently, his lips parting to speak but he loses his voice as the soft smile on your face. He thought he’d be freaking out more over this, but he’s surprisingly relaxed under your touch, the way you’re not freaking out. Perhaps this is the realisation that you and Luke are definitely not just friends and haven’t been for a long time.

He slides one arm under the side you’re propped up on and around your waist, hand settling on your hip as you wrap your around his shoulders, leaning into each other. The gesture alone flushes heat to your neck, eyes gazing into his, heads leaning closer and closer until you meet halfway. The kiss is slow, tentative, but it’s a distraction that settles the blundering nerves in his stomach when together you reach over and tug his briefs down, your palm around his cum-soaked cock and stroking lightly to start with, small hums vibrating in his throat. He’s already obsessed with the shape of your hand, somehow the sensation feels so much better when you’re doing it.

“See, nothing to be ashamed of, pup. S’just a wet dream, maybe I like getting you worked up…” you pull away, cooing against his lips and watching his chest jolt as he breathes in sharply. Your lips press wet kisses to his cheek, your grip firming and strokes bolder. His cock’s so pretty your stomach flips aggressively, his fingers gripping the fabric of your sleep shorts as you pump him with a slow rhythm, “Do you like that, Lu? Does it feel good?”

Luke tilts his head back into the pillows, pushing his hair off his forehead and letting stammering whines slip the more your pace increases. It’s like you can read his mind, or maybe you can, he loves it either way and bucks his hips up on reflex, raw thrill building in his lower stomach when you giggle, wrist rotating as you drive him further and further to his end.

“Fuck- feels so good,” he pants out, eyes barely opening to bask at the sight of you, “you’re so fucking good, baby. Always gettin’ me worked up like this, s’fucking- shit- annoying.”

“Just returning favours, puppy. Now ssshh, I don’t want people hearing your pretty whines.” You dip down and swallow his breath with a deep kiss, tongue finding and licking his, your thighs clenching together feeling your cunt throb as you’re giving him broad strokes. He squirms, your pace unbearably brutal and bullying his cock into pulsing in your hand. His hand’s latching around your nape, using your kiss as a muffler for his desperate whimpers. 

The tension tightens progressively in his stomach until his abs and thighs are clenching, the seventh heaven descending upon him where his hearing temporarily feels like it's muting out until a weightless feeling washes in waves over him. He tranquilises, muscles retracting and pulling away for air. You smile, watching his cock pump out warm ropes of cum from his tip and down your hand until there is nothing left. 

You bring your hand to your lips, licking up his cum as his eyes lock onto yours, “You taste so good too, but do you feel better?” 

“I don’t know, I think we should make evens.” Uncontrollably, his lips pull into his smirk, chest still panting and his cheeks still rosy, but he does feel relieved at last, and he still has you, he’ll always have you and you’ll always have him. 

You give him a grin, urging him out of the bed to clean and change, both keeping your giggles quiet. You don’t say no, though.

[on-the-clear-blue]

Okay, hopping on this just to say that Diana would be right there with him, cus she is from that era

Billy, plucking out a soft tune, humming along as he sits in the watch tower break room, pausing as he looks up and see Diana just staring at him motionless: Ope...I am sorry I didn't see you there Miss Wonder Woman...sorry if it sounded bad I am still getting the hang of it...

Diana, not actually motionless but actually vibrating like a speedster: You played very well! Better than some of my sisters at home! Who has been teaching you?

Billy, letting out an awkward laugh as he rubs the back of his head: O-Oh...um...Lord Mercury has been? He kept on talking about it a lot and said that I should 'cus he invented it?

Diana, with a massive grin: I know how to play the harp, and I do believe that both Hawk people know how to play the flute and reed pipes respectively...would you wish to combine our skills and make a band?

Billy, smiling because the gods are #freaking-out in his brain and cus he gets to hang out with his friends: Oh yeah totally! Maybe we can record it and I can play it on the Wizz?

Diana, already planning on stopping back at the island to grab her old harp: Please do! I would love to share it with the leauge as well!

Billy, who's headspace is split between Greek and Roman deities (and Solomon), showing interest in the arts from ancient Greece and Roman.

Aka theater kid Billy who's also in debate club and is taking art classes for mosaic tile art and sculpting, who's learning the lyre on the side cuz somehow being a part time hero isn't enough for him.

-

Billy, messing around with a small clay figure: ....

Zeus: I knew the guy who made humans out of clay. Talented dude.

Billy, pausing, wracking his brain for what he just learned in class: You banished Prometheus for giving us fire.

Zeus: I said he was a good sculptor, not that I treated him fairly.

-

Hes actually getting pretty good at the lyre and on slow hero-ing days, there's been reports of Captain Marvel sitting on rooftops staring at sheet music that looks to have been written by hand playing songs that history have no record of from a bygone era of Greece when myths walked among men.

[issues4him]

❥ PERVY NERD!RAFE x CHEERLEADER!READER

❥ nerd!rafe who….wears glasses that slide down his nose when he’s staring too hard at you across the quad. you’re laughing with your friends, licking a cherry lollipop, and he’s not blinking. pencil in his hand, clenched, jaw tight. his notes have turned into your name written twenty-seven times in the margins.

❥ nerd!rafe who…knows your class schedule, locker number, favorite lip gloss flavor, and the scent of your shampoo. (peach and vanilla—he nearly passed out the first time you brushed past him.)

❥ nerd!rafe who…sits in the back of class so he can stare at the curve of your waist when you stretch, watches how your skirt rises when you lean over your desk, and oh my god if you ever dropped a pen? he watches some other guy pick it up for you and immediately writes his name down with a death threat-level underline. like. “jason. must die.”

❥ nerd!rafe who…has a private folder on his computer with photos from your instagram. screenshots, zoomed in, cropped, edited, labeled by date. he jerks off to your selfies only to do it again the next day like the freak he is.

❥ nerd!rafe who…accidentally walked behind the bleachers during practice one day and saw you stretching with your leg up on the rail and almost passed out. he stood there, frozen, pants tightening, and didn’t even try to hide it. he moaned. out loud. then ran.

❥ nerd!rafe who…100% has a fantasy journal. he writes little stories about you calling him “rafey” and crawling into his lap in the library. one page literally just says, “she makes fun of me while riding me in her uniform. i cry and then she kisses my tears.”

❥ nerd!rafe who…hasn’t made a move on you because he’s convinced you’re too perfect for someone like him. but fuck he dreams about it. all the time. like you cornering him after school, giggling as you sit in his lap, pulling at his shirt, saying, “you’re always staring at me, rafey… i should give you something to really stare at.”

[angelmush]

oh my god molly those cookies look so delicious!!!! did you ever share the recipe? i'd love to give those a try! and make them for the kids i babysit🩵🩵🩵🩵

here’s the updated recipe (i just copied and pasted this from when i sent it some friends so lol):

brown butter miso choccy chip cookies

i usually double the recipe and keep some of the dough balls in the freezer to make emergency cookies :-)

toffee pretzel variation (my fave):

i made my own dark chocolate pretzel toffee to add into the dough. i used this toffee recipe and topped it with pretzels instead of nuts. you will have to make toffee a few hours ahead of time to make sure it is set for the cookies. instead of using chopped chocolate in the base cookie recipe, i used 1/2 chopped chocolate and 1/2 chopped toffee. when the cookies came out of the oven, i also pressed a little pretzel into the top of each cookie and topped w a pinch of salt while they were still hot.

EXTRA INGREDIENTS FOR TOFFEE PRETZEL VARIATION:

bag of pretzels

2 cups unsalted butter

2 cups white sugar

¼ teaspoon salt, and flaky sea salt die topping

2 cups chopped dark chocolate

BASE COOKIE RECIPE

INGREDIENTS
9 tablespoon (128 g) unsalted butter
¾ cup (150 g) brown sugar, packed
¼ cup (50 g) granulated sugar
2 tablespoon (40 g) white miso
1 large egg
½ teaspoon (3 g) vanilla extract
1 ½ cup (200 g) all purpose flour
½ teaspoon (3 g) baking soda
¼ teaspoon (2 g) salt
1 ½ cup dark chocolate, chopped 
Flaky Sea Salt for topping

INSTRUCTIONS

* Brown the butter. Brown butter in a saucepan on medium heat, swirl the butter around the saucepan, until butter foams and starts to turn brown and has a nutty aroma. there’s a billion videos about browning butter you can watch if you have never done it before too! I like a pretty dark brown butter tbh because you can really taste it that way once it bakes, but follow your heart <3 Transfer butter to a liquid measuring cup and see how much water content you lost. You want to have 1/2 cup of liquid, so stir in 1 tablespoon of butter if you need it. Set aside to cool, sometimes i have to put it in the freezer LOL. you want it to be not warm at all but you don’t want it to resolidify either so don’t forget about it. You can also just make it a few hours ahead of time and leave it in the counter 🤷 i think i usually make it while im making the toffee since that also needs to be made a few hours ahead of time


* Mix wet ingredients. When the butter is melted and slightly cool, in a large mixing bowl, whisk the butter with the brown and white sugars until incorporated with no lumps remain. Add in the egg, miso, and vanilla until smooth and glossy.


* Whisk the remaining dry ingredients. Whisk together the flour, baking soda, and salt in a separate mixing bowl. Using a rubber spatula, fold in half the dry ingredients into wet ingredients until everything comes together. Slowly add in the remaining flour and mix until combined. Fold in the chocolate (or 1/2 chocolate & 1/2 toffee if using). Chill dough in ziploc bag in fridge for 2 hours.


* Scoop then chill the cookie dough a second time. Use a 1 oz cookie scoop and scoop out into balls placing them parchment paper (i will use my kitchen scale to make sure they weigh the same, 1.5oz each for even baking). Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate dough for at least 30 minutes or up to 24 hours (the longer the better—trust me). After this point, I will move whatever dough balls i want to freeze into the freezer. 


* Preheat the oven to 350°F. Bake the dough 2 inches apart until golden brown and firm around the edges, 13-16 minutes, or until the edges are just golden brown and the center is puffed up and gooey. While still hot, i’ll do this little trick to made them all perfectly round using a cup because I am a perfectionist freak LOL. Then I will sprinkle with flaky sea salt/pretzels if using, and cool completely on the baking sheets. 


[plasticflowersinahistorycemetery]

where to start????? zoe... this one hurt. like, truly hurt. unbelievably well-written and so much emotion in there. so freaking immersive, i was holding back tears the moment he didn't hold her hand. oh wow.

“What?” Dean tried to say, but with the biscuit shoved in his mouth, it came out as more of a “whuff?”.

we can always rely on dean to make me laugh, can't we? god, you write him so perfect.

and jody!!!! oh jody has my entire heart and soul <3 i could hear her voice when i was reading her dialogue. you're so crazy talented.

“You’re acting like a child,”

now, excuse me, sam. what in the (and i cannot stress this enough) fuck.

see, it's hard, because i can SEE where he's coming from. we all know sammy has a problem with guilt, and of course he would feel it in this situation, no matter how much he loves her... but dude, come on? she's SO good for you.

this is honestly so heartbreaking but i love(!!!!!!!) it so much. i love when stories hurt, i love when they feel like they crawl inside your ribs and make themselves at home. i think it's one of the signs of truly great writing, because it sticks with you and hurts after the fact. zoe, once again. impeccable and unparalleled.

“What the fuck did he do?” Travis asked, but he was already moving toward his car.

see, i kinda love travis. i think he's such a good friend, especially for a guy! i so hope he stays that way. rosie needs someone who cares for her like that in a platonic way.

Sam leaned against the building, keeping watch over you.

still watching out for her. silly man, just apologise!!! we all know how much you love her. you have to stop with this guilt about her age! you deserve good things, sammy, and she's good!!!

oh, my actual heart. zoe, you are such a talented fucking writer. i absolutely LOVE everything that comes out of your mind. honestly, i would buy every single book you published (hint: publish some goddamn books, you star) and write essays to myself, dissecting each line and the poeticism and beauty in all of it. god, i am once again, jaw-on-the-floor level impressed and i don't know how you keep doing this to me.

you're fantastic.

"you said if we had been closer in age, maybe it would have been fine" sam winchester x party girl!reader

content: age gap, fluff, angst, language, sam is a little mean, reader is a little crazy, travis appearance lol

word count: 4k

song: all too well ten minute version by taylor swift

note: everyone say "thank you jen" for encouraging me to get this out!! love you, girl @xoswiftieprincess !

m.list meet party girl!

The winding roads had been relatively empty compared to what you had been used to in the city.

Sam drove with one hand on the steering wheel, the other grasping yours in your lap. You'd been drifting in and out of sleep the entire drive, listening to the soft voices on the podcast Sam had picked out.

There had been a deal: half the drive would be Sam's choice, the other your own. You assumed he'd play the music he grew up on, the kind his brother still blasted through Impala speakers the few times he'd come with Sam to visit.

Instead, you were learning about the ancient Aztecs's religious traditions.

What a fucking snoozefest.

Still, you didn’t complain, and had even carried on a conversation about the topic. It was a lot of uh huhs and wait, what does that means, but you wanted him to feel heard. You loved his brain, you loved his enthusiasm, you loved him. So what if you had to pretend sometimes?

“Baby,” Sam muttered, putting more pressure into the strokes of his thumb on your hand. You opened an eye, turning your head to look at him.

“Hmm?” You hummed.

“We gotta stop at the store. I told Jody I’d pick a few things up.”

“Okay, honey.” You dismissed before cuddling into his arm, resting your cheek on his forearm.

When Sam had asked you to go with him to a dinner, one thrown together with his mismatched family. Dean would be there, but you already knew him. The real anxiety maker?

Some lady you didn’t know who obviously meant something to Sam.

Jody had heard about you in passing. She thought great, let Sam finally have a fling. But when your name kept coming up months after, getting close to a year of your relationship taking bloom, she knew she had to let him know she supported him. He didn’t have much of that, and Jody was always happy to play step-in-mother.

There was a small fact that had escaped her in all the times she’d heard Sam and Dean talking about you: your age. They had bickered about Dean picking fun at your youth, but she figured he was being dramatic, like he usually was. She was expecting someone maybe a year or two younger. What a surprise she was about to get.

That would be a future problem. Right now, Sam was more focused on your cheek pressed against him, breath ghosting over his skin. He was so focused on you, in fact, that he had taken his eyes off the road to admire your slightly parted lips.

The first thing he saw when he looked back to the road was the glowing red cast over the darkening street. He knew there was no hope for slamming on the brakes. He made the conscious decision to coast on through it, thanking whatever force he still believed in for allowing the cross-traffic to be nonexistent. He’d relaxed into his seat when you spoke.

“Did you just run a red light?” You had a slight slur in your voice, the sleep slowly seeping off of you. He flicked his gaze to the corner of his eye, wanting to catch your expression. Aside from the usual killing-and-maiming-of-monsters thing, Sam was pretty straight laced. He followed traffic laws, he always returned his shopping cart to the corral, and he never drank too much. This wasn’t like him.

“No.” Sam answered, mumbling the word out in hopes that you hadn’t actually seen the light, or perhaps that you had suddenly gone colorblind and couldn’t actually tell green from red.

“Mmm,” you purred, sitting up, “looked pretty red to me.”

Sam couldn’t help the smile that tugged on his lips. You stretched your arms, a small noise escaping you at the relief it brought.

“It may have been slightly red.” Sam’s hand had fallen from your hand when you stretched, but he immediately placed it on your thigh, needing to just touch a part of you to keep him grounded.

“There is no slightly red, Sammy.”

“You’re criticizing my driving?” He steered the conversation away from himself, a teasing tone in his voice. “Do I have to remind you of last month?”

“I didn’t hit that curb! It got in my way.” You defended.

There had been one time during Sam’s last visit that he had dared to let you drive. He had been exhausted and, hey, you had your license, so you couldn’t have been that bad of a driver, right?

Wrong.

Whoever proctored your test must have been unconscious because there was no way you had passed on your own. You took turns too sharply, had to slam on your brakes more than once, and had even scraped a bit of the body of the car on a curb. Sam cringed at the memory of the nails-on-chalkboard noise it had made.

“Mhm,” Sam hummed and, if you were less focused on looking for the perfect spot for him to park in at the store, you would have teased him for the sassy tone of it.

You gathered your purse up, more of a formality than anything since Sam never let you pay for anything, but stopped when you noticed him just staring at you. You quirked an eyebrow up, a small pout popping your lips out.

“What?” You asked when he still didn’t move.

“I love you.” Sam answered simply, cupping your cheek in his hand. His thumb brushed across your chin.

“I know,” you giggled before kissing him, almost sighing at the taste of coffee and spearmint. “I love you too.”

And so it was, you gathered Sam’s hand in yours while you cruised the aisles of the grocery store. Sam held a basket in his other hand, ignoring the growing weight with every item you placed in it.

He had eyed the packet of gummy worms you had swiped up, but said nothing. There was no winning the argument of whether or not you needed them when you were going to a dinner. He would have to live with the fact that you were surviving on an 80% sweet treat diet.

“Chocolate or blueberry?” You asked, holding up two muffin options. Sam pretended to contemplate the decision. You scrunched your nose up and shook the packages, trying to get him to give you an answer quicker.

“Blueberry,” he finally replied, holding the basket out for you to drop them in. Just before you could skip ahead of him to the next aisle, he pulled you in for another kiss. It was quick and sweet, nothing like the heated makeout you two had when he picked you up.

Still, Sam noticed the furrowed brows of the middle-aged man who swiftly passed by. His glance at your college id card hanging out of your purse that quickly shot to observe your swollen lips gave the man all the information he needed to send a nasty glare Sam’s way. He knew what it meant. It was the “stop kissing young girls, you creep” look that he picked up on far too often for his liking.

He shouldn’t care about it. He knew that. You had gone on many tangents about how you didn’t “give a shit” if some “bitchy assholes” found a problem with the “true love” you and Sam shared.

It didn’t stop the small distance he kept between you two for the rest of the shopping trip.

Back in the privacy of the car, he let himself hold you again. The rest of the drive to Jody’s was full of laughter and you feeding him those damned gummy worms.

You were nervous. Very nervous.

What if she didn’t like you? Again, you didn’t care much what other people thought, but if Sam’s family didn’t like you, there was no way your relationship would last.

The pit in your stomach grew while each thump of Sam’s fist on the door. You stood next to him, one of his flannels draped over your shoulders and the muffins in your hands.

“Sam-,” you began to ask if Jody was nice, for around the fiftieth time that day, when the door swung open to reveal--

“Hey-ey!” Dean exclaimed, holding his arms out as if to say “look at this!”. “My two favorite dorks!”

“You weren’t calling me a dork when I outdrank your ass.” You snapped back. Technically, you had only won the little drinking game because some blonde behind you had caught Dean’s eye, but you took that as a win.

“You didn’t outdrink me, you-,” Dean started to argue, but Sam cut him off.

“Can we maybe not do this all over again?” Sam sighed. A smile was weaving itself onto his face despite his attempts at exasperation. He couldn’t help the joy that swelled in his chest at the sight of his two favorite people getting along so well.

“Of course, whatever my honey wants.” You shoved the muffins into Dean’s hands before wrapping your fingers around Sam’s arm, hanging on him to calm the anxiety that had sprung back up the moment you remembered why you were standing on a random doorstep. He kissed the top of your head and pulled you in close.

“C’mon, honey,” Dean sneered the pet name with that brotherly love he bottled up specially for Sam, “dinner’s almost done.” He turned on his heel and sauntered to the kitchen.

“I love you.” Sam mumbled to you one last time. He knew you were nervous. Hell, he was nervous too. He hoped his words would help ease you. If you were happy, he would be happy, at least, that was the theory.

You clung to Sam as he directed you in the direction Dean had gone in. The clatter of scraping and sizzling was growing louder with each step.

“Dean, get your fingers out-,” a feminine, but strong, voice scolded, “no touching!”

Your eyes caught onto the woman flitting about, a dish towel slung over her shoulder. She swatted at Dean’s hand, making you laugh. It wasn’t very loud, but she must’ve had the hearing of a dog, because she spun around. Her attention caught on Sam first, his large figure being a beacon in any room.

“Sam! You’re here. And this is-,” her voice cut off when she flicked her gaze to you. You offered a smile and she returned it, though it wavered a bit. “You must be his girlfriend! I’ve heard so many things, all good.”

“Sam goes on and on about you and Dean.” You revealed, melting into your boyfriend’s side. The tension you felt before had lifted, and you were utterly relieved for that fact.

“Well, I’ve saved his ass enough times, he better talk about me.” Jody joked. Her eye caught movement just behind her. “Dean!”

“What?” Dean tried to say, but with the biscuit shoved in his mouth, it came out as more of a “whuff?”. You snickered at the scene. Whatever initial thoughts Jody had about you faded away and you all moved about as a perfect unit, only bumping into each other once or twice.

Dinner spun by without problem. Or, well, without a clear problem. No one argued, other than the small bicker between Sam and Dean about who got to use the butter first. There were no ill-willed glares. Everything seemed to be in perfect harmony.

Until you tried to hold Sam’s hand. To his credit, he did let you rest your palm on his for a few moments. Slowly, he had inched it away, opting to hide his hands in his lap. You were left staring off into the space where he should have been, but an empty tabletop lay instead.

Laughter surrounded you.

Was Sam embarrassed to love you in front of others? You hadn’t thought that before. No, he always held your hand. He always gave you quick pecks just for the hell of it. He had never done this, never treated you like some little girl that was constantly begging for attention.

You couldn’t shake the shame you felt. It lingered on your skin through the rest of the meal. Even Jody’s apple pie couldn’t get it to go away.

Now, the night air chilled you on your short walk to Sam’s car. You didn’t dare reach for Sam, not after how he made you feel.

Sam knew something was wrong. You weren’t as happy as you usually were. You didn’t immediately weave your fingers into his when he climbed into the car. You made no move to play your music, leading the first half hour of the car ride back to your college town to be silent.

Your eyes stayed glued to the window. The darkened night sky held stars, but you didn’t feel like looking at them. You were mad. You were sad. You were embarrassed.

You heard Sam sigh, then mumble your name. His fingers brushed onto your clothed arm.

“Did you have fun?” He asked, voice soothing. It quelled a bit of the tension you held in your body, but the mental image of his hand sliding away from yours made you swallow down the thick emotion that was building in you.

“Yeah.” You answered short. It wasn’t a complete lie. Dean and Jody were fun. Sam was the one who made it not so enjoyable, but you didn’t want to confront him about it. Would it make you sound like a child throwing a fit?

“You’re kinda quiet,” Sam laughed, glancing at you for a moment. Your eyes dropped to the floor and you bit your lip to keep from responding. He frowned, concern washing onto him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“There’s obviously something, baby. Please talk to me.” Sam tapped a finger on your thigh, out of habit. You hesitated, but he wasn’t gonna let this go, you knew that.

“Are you embarrassed of me?” You asked, voice small. You had never felt so… immature before. You hated it.

Sam nearly choked on his breath.

“What? Why would I be embarrassed? I love you.” He couldn’t believe this. How could you think he would be anything but proud of you?

“I know you love me, this isn’t about that.” You didn’t like how he was seemingly avoiding this. Did he really not see it all?

The answer was, no, he didn’t see it. It wasn’t something he set out to do. It all just happened, like all the guilt he felt about loving a younger woman just took control.

“Then what is it about?”

“It’s about you not wanting to hold my hand at dinner. You made me feel like a little girl, Sam.” You unloaded it all on him.

Sam. Not honey, not Sammy. Sam. Like he didn’t mean anything to you.

Sam ignored the pang of heartache at the formality of the name.

“This is about me not holding your hand?” Sam scoffed. The condescension in his voice wasn’t intentional, but it still rang through you, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“No, Sam, this is about you not holding my hand in front of your family. You treated me like I was your friend, some acquaintance, not your girlfriend.” You didn’t even think of the next words that came out, but it was what escalated this argument. “Like loving me is wrong.”

Sam cringed at your words. He cringed because he’d thought them before. He’d thought loving you was wrong, morally, anyway. He took a deep breath, the regret he felt for what he was about to say doing nothing to stop him.

“Well, isn’t it? In some way, my love for you shouldn’t exist, right?”

You felt a shiver run up your spine. No. This couldn’t be happening. He regretted loving you.

“Why, because of my age? Because I don’t kill things for a living?” You spat out.

“Yeah. Because of your age.” Sam answered, nodding. Light flew over your faces while he drove, the signs of businesses paving the way to the end of the best thing that had ever happened to you.

“You’re not that much older than me. I mean, Jesus, I’ve had friends date men older than you.” You murmured, ignoring the pricking of tears at the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t cry, not now. It would show Sam that he was right, you were too young, you couldn’t even handle a simple fight.

“I’m thirty-,” Sam was cut off by you.

“You just turned thirty, like last month. My birthday’s in-,” this time Sam cut you off.

“You’re gonna be twenty-two. That’s eight years,” he finished the sentence with your name. He sounded far too much like a scolding parent.

“I can do math, I’m not stupid.” You scoffed, crossing your arms. Sam rolled his eyes. You were taking this all the wrong way. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go. But, here he was, trying to talk you down from making him the bad guy.

“I didn’t call you stupid.” Sam tightened his grip on the steering wheel to keep him focused. “You’re acting like a child,” he mumbled, hoping you wouldn’t hear it, because, really, he didn’t mean it.

“What?” You asked, pushing your head forward, ear turned to him. Now you were really pissed off. “What was that?”

“I said, you’re acting like a child.” He repeated, shaking his head.

You nodded your head sarcastically.

“If I’m such a child, maybe we shouldn’t be together. Wouldn’t want you to be a creepy old man.” You seethed, quoting his words from a few weeks into your relationship. He’d confided in you about his feelings, about how he felt wrong in how right your skin felt against him. At the time, you’d given him a kiss on the nose and said all the right things to make him feel better. Now, it was fuel for you to get through to him. You were hoping he would see where he was wrong, that he would take it all back and everything would go back to the way it had been.

Apparently you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be.” He agreed, eyes glued to the road so he wouldn’t see the effect his words had.

You froze, staring at the side of his face. He didn’t glance at you, he didn’t look like he regretted his words. The tears you had been holding back fell, streaking your mascara.

“What?” You asked, voice wavering. Please, you silently begged, please just say you’re sorry.

“We shouldn’t be together. This isn’t working, not like it should.” Sam knew he was being overdramatic to some extent. Really, your relationship did work, but he didn’t want to ruin you. He didn’t want to be the thing holding you back from something better, something easier. So, instead he hurt you. “Maybe if we were closer in age, it would. But, we can’t change that.”

“We can’t change that, so we should just ignore it. It shouldn’t matter.” You blabbered out, fingers trembling where you rested them on the middle console of the vehicle.

“It does. You know it does.”

“I don’t care about our ages!” You argued, trying to swipe away some tears.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want you to cry. It wasn’t fair, but this was how it had to be. Sometimes life wasn’t fair.

“Yeah, well, I do.” Sam sighed, flexing his jaw.

Your heart completely shattered. You couldn’t sit here and let him talk to you like this. You gripped onto the strap of your purse.

“Let me out.” Your voice was as flat as you could manage. Sam furrowed his brows. What the hell were you talking about? “Let me out. Now.” You repeated, a bit more stern.

“What? No.” Sam wasn’t gonna let you walk the streets of some random town. He would bring you back to your dorm, crying or not.

“Sam, let me out now or I’ll fucking jump out!” You threatened. Yeah, it was a little crazy, but you weren’t thinking straight. And Sam knew you, even if he pretended not to. He knew you would jump out, given enough motivation.

He pulled into the parking lot of a closed Burger King. The car hadn’t even stopped all the way before you lept out, sneakers hitting pavement. Sam huffed and put the car into park, climbing out to follow you. You were his girl -- wait, no, not anymore, but he still felt responsible for you.

You were a mess. There wasn’t a specific direction you were headed in. You just wanted away from this, away from the shame that still oozed all over you. You heard Sam call your name, causing you to quicken your pace.

“Get back in the car.” It wasn’t a demand, it was a plea. You shook your head, sucking in a steadying breath. It didn’t help.

“No.” You shuffled through your purse, looking for your phone. You needed someone, anyone. Anyone other than Sam.

“Please, just-,” Sam reached for your arm, but you flinched away.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You yelled. He didn’t get to touch you after breaking your heart like that. Your fingers slipped on the buttons on your phone as you typed, causing you to take longer to find your friend’s contact that it should have. You all but sprinted away from Sam, holding the phone to your ear.

He followed you, sighing.

“Stop acting like this.” There it was again, that fucking parental scolding. You cut a glare at him.

“Fuck,” you mumbled when the call went to voicemail. She was probably sleeping, like you should have been. That had been the plan. Sam would bring you back to the motel he always booked when he was in town to visit, and you two would spend the night together before he had to get back to helping Dean. Instead, you were here, wishing you had never met the tall man following you around the sidewalks.

“Baby-,” it just slipped out, Sam didn’t mean to say it, but you spun on your heel, cutting him off.

“Don’t. Don’t fucking call me that.” You had a murderous look in your eyes. He’d really pissed you off this time. It wasn’t your first fight, but it was looking to be your last.

You dialed another number, praying to God that he was awake. Of course, he was. I mean, when did Travis spend a Friday night not partying?

“Rosie?” Travis answered the phone with. He knew you were with Sam, you hadn’t shut up about this night for days. He just didn’t know why you were calling him.

“Trav,” you almost sobbed, the familiarity of your nickname hurting more than it should. “Can you pick me up?”

“What the fuck did he do?” Travis asked, but he was already moving toward his car. He took care of you like a sister, and he’d be damned if he would let you spend one more second hurting. Thankfully, he hadn’t drank as much as usual.

“Just…,” your lip quivered when you saw Sam standing there, staring at you like that. Like he cared. “Please hurry.”

And he did. Travis turned the three-hour drive into two hours. His hardened gaze immediately softened at the sight of you sitting on the curb near the Burger King, Sam leaned against the building, keeping watch over you.

You shot up at the sight of your savior, stumbling to him before collapsing into his arms. Travis glared at Sam. He didn’t know what had happened, but whatever it was, it had left you like this, and that was all he needed to hate the older man.

“I’m-,” Sam started to say “I’m sorry”, but Travis snapped at him before he could continue.

“Shut the fuck up.”

party girl taglist : @xoswiftieprincess @whothefvckami @giowritess

sam winchester taglist : @hobiespick

[maxwell-grant]

Every conversation I have with her listening to her foreboding choir music makes me feel like I'm in a cutscene conversation with the Final Boss, except that conversation never ends, and the Final Boss won everything before I was even born, and it couldn't be bothered to show up so it just sent one of it's teeth after me to make small talk, if only to have me recoil before it's pleasing sharpness. I adore talking to her and it makes me feel sick and hollow. why is this game so horribly addicting.

[chronicowboy]

manifesting a s7 bi buck confirmation where the 118 are on a call and the victim/their friend/Random Civilian is getting annoyed makes a comment aimed at buck & eddie about "straight white men" and they both look offended then eddie says "do I look white???" and buck's like "do I look straight???"

how the others react (if at all) is tbc at this stage

i'm a sucker for inappropriate whisper arguments in the Absolute Worst of Situations so now all i'm seeing is eddie whipping around to buck when he says it with the widest doe eyes any human being has ever achieved and oblivious little buck waving the vic/friend/civilian off like "it's fine, could happen to anyone, you know" and then eddie's like "uh, yeah, it did, you're not straight?" and then it's like for the GA oh no are they going to do a kind of internalised homophobia arc for eddie where he re-examines his entire friendship with buck after finding out he likes men and yes he is going to re-examine his entire friendship with buck after finding out he likes men but it'll be the opposite of internalised homophobia (externalised homoeroticism)

[amayikes]

in case anyone worries that I just said I've discussed walrus fairy with my partner for two hours, it's not a fight discussion, we're just two autism-bained academia suckasses and we LOVE getting into long profound discussions, and right now is "how the fairy/walrus dichotomy of humans reflects their stances on religion (my argument, I vote walrus) and ultimately proves how dangerous thought patterns lead to the prevalence of scams (his argument, he votes fairy)

[justalittlebluetiefling]

I haven't been involved with coaching for almost 3 months now and somehow I am still getting dragged into the drama.

[kavehayati]

I cannot fathom the level of self importance some people must have to behave this way

[meowmedusa]

started actually spiraling out today i am. unwell

[titan-god-helios]

ilosthimifuckinglosthimohmygodpanicattackherewego

[readymades2002]

briefly confided in my mother (mistake i never learn from) about how i am very sad that my ability to have a social life in the world is tied entirely to my sibling, who will be leaving here soon, and how i do not have any other way to get out of the house and how i do not feel i have anything besides work and despite everything that came after, including an apology for saying it, the first thing she said was “well i don’t have anything else either” which is exactly what prevented me from saying anything earlier because i knew that and i know that she is very good at going “it is what it is” about the most miserable of conditions and so would never admit to being unhappy about anything even though there is so much to be unhappy about including having to raise me to begin with, and that she also gets annoyed when others complain or are unhappy about anything because SHE does it and so why can’t everyone do it. and. well. i am pretty nervous about what this means for my life (nonexistent) going forward

[chase-solidago]

So you found a dead body in the woods

The worst thing you've worried about, going on hikes, happens. This happens often, in the grand scheme of things. It's always joggers and dogwalkers and hikers. My unlucky day came on October 24, 2022.

So what do you do when you find a dead body?

Look in the other direction and take a breath. Panic wont help you or them.

If you are comfortable, approach them and try to help. If not, it's okay. I was unwilling to approach (they looked real dead) and my 911 operator was 100% totally supportive and okay with that.

Walk a little ways away. There is no reason why you need to keep staring at them. It's okay. Seeing a dead person is really wack!

When you've caught your breath, call 911. My first thought was "Oh god, I don't want to talk to cops." and, good news, it's not cops! 911 responders are different people. They are trained to talk to you, to reassure you, and to help you. They are there for you. They understand you are freaking out. They are kind and patient.

Your new buddy, the 911 person, will help you figure out where you are, exactly. They have access to your location via cell-tower and GPS, but if, like me, you were off-trail (oops), they might need your help navigating to you. I offered to also send a photo, and he provided an email, which he received immediately. I deleted the photo I took right away.

Hang out on the phone with your dispatch friend. They're going to want to keep in touch with you as the paramedics approach. Are you freaking out by chattering too much? Are you freaking out by being dead silent? Both are okay! Apparently, my panic response is to become Super Midwestern Chatty. I was able to make him laugh, which I count as a win.

Holler to the paramedics. My paramedics came deep into the ravine-filled woods, about six men, steering a rolling bed thing. We shouted at each other until they made it to the body. It would have been funny, watching them fumble along, if it wasn't so serious.

Get out of there! The paramedics don't need anything from you. They're busy doing their job. They shooed me back to the trail and to the parking lot. I didn't have to go anywhere near the body.

Meet cops in the parking lot. In my situation, the cops didn't want anything from me. They were just picking their noses in the parking lot while the paramedics did the real work. The cops said thanks for helping, while covering their bodycams, because they're pigs.

Go eat donuts. Christ, that was a lot. Let yourself comedown and get some sugar to kickstart your system.

Feel good that you gave a family closure. Yeah, that sucked. Yeah, your therapist is going to hear about this. Yeah, next time you come to this location, you're going to need a friend with you. But you did the right thing. You'll never know their family, but know that you gave them closure.

[shushmal]

"Dude," Steve says, pressing on his eyes because he feels like he's about to cry. "What the fuck."

"What?" Dustin squeaks, alarmed. "What? Steve, you're freaking me out!"

"Good!" Because Steve just worked eighteen hours and it's past midnight and he got thrown up on twice and there was a bed pan incident and even though he showered at the hospital he probably smells awful and it rained and he lost his keys so he had to take the bus and he's sweaty and tired and wet and cold and Dustin's DnD friend is hot. "I can't believe you'd do this to me!" Okay, maybe Steve's feeling a little delirious.

"Do what??" Dustin is full on shrieking right now. His hot friend is standing in their apartment looking more and more worried and hot.

"You didn't tell me he was hot!"

The expressions that go across Dustin's face is impressive, before they stop and he settles on a flat glare. "Seriously??"

Hot guy is now blushing and Steve will collapse if he doesn't keep with the righteous fury.

"I've been TRYING to get you two to meet for months now!"

"You didn't tell me he was hot, though! Dustin!!"

"I don't know what guys are hot, Steve!" Dustin says indignantly. "I thought you didn't like nerds!"

"Dustin!"

"Um," says hot guy. He looks like he's panicking.

Dustin's face changes again. "Oh, no. Oh, no, you're right."

"All this time!" Steve says and he really is close to tears. "You've been nagging on me all this time to find my soulmate, and you had the perfect guy right here?? You had him in my home??? Dustin!"

"Whoa," whispers hot guy.

"I'm sorry," Dustin wails now, just as distraught. "You love nerds, all your favorite people are nerds, I don't know what I was thinking, oh my god!" He whirls on hot guy. "Eddie, give Steve your number right now!"

"Okay," says hot guy Eddie, immediately. His face is super red and his eyes are wide, and he looks scared out of his mind as he fumbles his pocket for his phone. "Yeah-Yep-Absolutely. This is a thing that's happening."

Steve, tears burning in his eyes, watches as Dustin punches his number into Eddie's phone. "Okay," he says a little nasally, wiping quickly at his face. "Okay, I'm going to shower and then sleep for two days, and then pretend like this never happened so I can look hot guy in the eye when he asks me on a date. Sound good?"

"Sounds great!" Dustin says, all cheery now. Behind him, still looking vaguely scared for his life, hot guy gives him a shaky thumbs up.