#i think I've only hit a curb once so far in all my times driving and that was on my second time driving on a road i think

[dandyshucks]

need Guz to hug me tightly for like an hour solid oh my god dhdjdkl I went driving for the first time in over a year and I chewed my lip raw 😭😭

I'm starting to look like a caricature of Anxiety with all these physical symptoms and signs LMAO

[cheswirls]

short asl thing based on @where-does-the-heart-lie's modern au :) i started this over a year ago but the beginning is all dialogue and felt more like a script to me i suppose??? which deflated my desire to work on it. anyway i checked it over recently and it's completely fine lmfao, self-confidence restored here we go !

-

"Yo. Aren't you usually in the middle of your shift by now?"

"I've been banned from the hospital."

"Like, for life?"

"No. For the next, uh.. Twenty-two hours."

"That's oddly specific."

"It was twenty-four, but I fell asleep after leaving the building."

"That wouldn't have to do with why they kicked you out, at all?"

"Hmmm. I'm too sleep-deprived, apparently."

"Ah. And, um, you called me because...?"

"I pressed a random number in my call log after waking up. Lucky you, I guess."

"Yeah. Right. Lucky me. And your car keys are...?"

"Confiscated."

"Ah, right, of course."

A beat of silence. Two. Three, then "Look, if you're busy, then–"

"No, no.  You called me, so I'll be there. Give me twenty minutes."

"Alright. Thank–"

"Thank someone else. Also, if you fall asleep in my car, I'm taking it as express permission to drive you around wherever I want."

"Ugh, go die. I don't even know why I bothered."

"LUCKY YOU, I guess," sounds off way too loudly in his ear. "No take backs. See you in ten."

"I thought you said–" Sabo breaks off as the call ends, leaving him staring blankly at his phone's too-dim screen. He squints, turns the brightness all the way up, and still squints as the sunlight proves too strong for the display.

Ace shows up in more than ten but decidedly less than twenty minutes. Sabo doesn't waste much brain power on it, only climbing into the passenger seat and yawning into his palm while his other hand fixes the seatbelt into the buckle. Not a second too soon, too, as Ace roars the engine to life and peels away from the curb at record speed.

Ace fiddles with the radio. He turns the music up, then dial it back down to inaudible. They hit the expressway and he leans over the steering wheel, frowning with his eyes fixed on the road far ahead. Sabo yawns again and this appears to be the limit to his patience. 

"Hey, so, I had a thought after you hung up on me."

Sabo grimaces. "You mean you–"

"Today's Wednesday."

He doesn't elaborate. Sabo is too tired to process. "Yes," he follows, after a second. He glances at the sky out the front window. "What time is it?"

"Oh, uh." Ace fumbles with hand placement so he can lift his watch to his face. "Nine forty."

Sabo takes a couple beats to try and process this, moves his eyes away from the skyline, and sighs as he pulls his phone out. 2:47 is what the display reads, which sounds much more believable.

"How did the minute hand get off?" he mutters to himself, chancing a look at Ace's busted wristwatch. Ace raises a brow, taking his gaze off the road to scrutinize Sabo. "No, it doesn't matter," he mutters to himself once more, sliding his phone away back on his person and out of his hands.

"My point is," Ace continues, like he hasn't just been interrupted by a whole thing. "Your timeout will be done midday Thursday. Did they switch your days off?"

"No." Sabo sighs. "They technically gave me the next thirty-six hours. Technically closer to forty. Something like that. I go back in on Friday. Sometime.” He tries to smile and it turns out very lopsided, from that he can make out in the rearview mirror. “Can you tell I’m tired?”

“I don’t think ‘tired’ is an accurate description,” Ace quips. “When did you eat a proper meal last?”

“Uh, yesterday. Maybe.”

“Maybe??”

“A ‘proper meal’ means different things to the two of us,” Sabo huffs. “On my account it was yesterday. I’ve had food since then, of course.”

“Alright, so here’s the plan,” Ace announces before absolutely whipping it around a curve. Sabo is his passenger in the passenger seat and had fully prepared to be so when he got in the vehicle, but he’d been vastly underprepared for this sudden course of action, which is how he ends up halfway out of his seat with his cheek slammed into the cold window. Ace doesn’t quite notice his brother’s terminal velocity until the car is once again on the straight and narrow, and only then it’s because of the audible thunk Sabo’s face makes when it collides with the glass.

“Aw shit. You good bro?”

“Ow,” Sabo mutters. “If I have broken bones I’m suing your ass.”

“Well, if you’re good enough to make jokes, I think you’re better than you’re letting on.” Ace keeps the wheel steady with one knee while he takes both hands away to crack his fingers. When he glances over at Sabo again, he looks even more pathetic – like he’s becoming one with the glass. “Anyway, as I was saying.

“I’m taking your ass home. You’re going straight to sleep and while you crash, I’ll make you something decent to eat and stick it in the fridge for you to heat up later. I’ll even make you two servings to eat two different times, since you clearly can’t be trusted to take care of yourself correctly.”

“Ouch.”

“I want you to conk out for as long as your body allows. We can reset your sleep schedule tomorrow, alright? Put your phone on silent; do not answer any calls. In fact, you know what, just give it to me.

Sabo glances over to see Ace’s hand held out to him, palm up. Fingers wiggling expectantly. His lips pull up into a grimace. “I’m not doing that.”

“Fine.” Ace takes his hand back. “But you will comply with everything else.”

“Wow! It’s so funny, I didn’t realize you turned into my mother overnight! Really tapped into your mom potential, huh? Anything exciting happen in your life that would cause that? I guess I wouldn’t know, since I’ve been a zombie for the past two days.”

“There’s nothing wrong with acting like your older brother, you dipshit, especially if you keep putting yourself through the wringer like this. You go home. You sleep. You wake up and eat. You go back to sleep. Then we do laundry. Does that sound agreeable?”

“That’s negotiable, at the least,” Sabo mumbles. “I will accept good food as a form of bribery.”

“Oh, nice, because I’m flat broke at the moment.”

Sabo makes a mental note of that, and then they’re pulling into the driveway. Ace lets him exit the vehicle by himself and then promptly manhandles him all the way onto the couch where it will be easier to force his body to relax than in a real bed. Ace knows this, so he calls him weird before chucking a loose blanket at his head. Sabo is almost too tired to function at this point, so he lets Ace have the last laugh in favor of finally closing his eyes.

Coming to is a surreal experience, especially since the sun is still out. He must make a noise because Ace is suddenly within view. His limbs are tangled in the blanket and still so heavy that he doesn’t bother moving. “Thought you would be gone,” he half-groans, eyes slipping shut again for a moment.

“I did leave,” Ace confirms. “I had to go pilfer some stuff to make stew with. It’s almost done, so I’ll hang here until then.”

Pilfer. That could mean any number of things. Sabo chooses to believe in the option where Ace is an upstanding citizen, and then remembers Ace saying earlier that he had no money. He frowns and squirms on the cushions enough to where it looks like he’s checking his pockets. “Where’s my wallet, Ace?” he bluffs.

“Somewhere around here,” Ace pipes up. “Your stomach will thank you for your contributions to the Portgas Household’s pantry!”

“Ugh, I got robbed,” he complains. “This sucks. ‘m going back to sleep.” He rolls over so his back is to Ace.

“Yeah, you do you, bro. Stew will still be here later. I’ll see you when you’re back in the world of the living.”

—

Luffy comes in late that night and slams the front door shut as loud as humanly possible. When he appears in the main room, he doesn’t seem to be upset, so Ace writes it off as a Luffyism. Sabo hasn’t stirred at the noise, so it’s all good.

Realizing this, Luffy pads closer to Ace’s side and looks at Sabo’s unmoving body warily. “Why is Sabo passed out like a corpse? Is he sick?”

“No, he’s not sick, he just can’t take care of himself. Which is why we are going to let him sleep for as long as possible.”

Luffy just nods to this, but it’s the uncomprehending Luffy-nod that means he’s just going to end up doing whatever he wants to regardless. Ace sighs, then jerks his head towards the kitchen. “He ate a little earlier, but I want him to eat again when he wakes up. There’s stew in the fridge if you want it – just leave him a little. Got it, Monkey D. Luffy?”

Luffy throws him a salute and then runs off in his socks. “Yippee! Ace made stew!”

“Think of your brother, Luffy, and make good choices!” Ace calls after him. “He’s a pathetic man who needs food to feel better or he’ll end up sleeping through Laundry Day!”

—

Sabo does not sleep through laundry day, but he does sleep for sixteen whole hours, so it’s just around noon when he forces himself up off the couch and into a warm shower.

Ace is around, which is mildly unexpected. But he’s still half-asleep, so everything is at least a little unexpected. He glances up from playing video games with Luffy to see Sabo leaving the steam-filled bathroom with his hair hanging around his shoulders. “You look like a wet cat,” he calls.

“Sabo’s awake!” Luffy cheers. “Ace thought you died at one point.”

Ace elbows Luffy in the gut, making him hunch over. “I did not!”

“He totally checked to see if your heart was still beating!”

“I’m undead, actually,” Sabo says completely seriously.

“Does that mean you don’t need to eat anymore?” Luffy questions. “Because I ate all the stew last night.”

“I saw that coming and made extra.” Ace finger-guns in Sabo’s general direction. “That’s why I bought two sets of ingredients. With your money!”

“With my money,” Sabo echoes, because it’s such a wild statement to have to deal with this early in the day. Well, early for him. “Fuck you.”

“I mean, I can tell Luffy where I hid–”

“Thank you, Ace, for agreeing to share your quarters with both of your brothers so we can all do laundry today on your dime!” Sabo raises his pitch so his voice is mockingly squeaky when he says this. He starts moving down the hall before Ace can start to argue, letting his and Luffy’s voices bleed into the background.

When he comes back out, now dressed, it smells significantly better than before. “I reheated the stew,” Ace announces, gesturing for Sabo to take a seat at the kitchen counter. “Let’s all have lunch before we head out.”

“You have to drink this too,” Luffy tells Sabo, sliding a Gatorade across the counter so it sets in front of him when he finally does take a seat. “Ace’s orders.”

“Gotta get those nutrients back somehow.”

“Aren’t we so considerate, Sabo?”

“Do you even know what ‘considerate’ means?” Sabo asks, lips quirking up into a half-smile. At Luffy’s shrug, it turns into a real smile. “Well, thanks anyway. Both of you.”

“No sweat. And look!” Ace brandishes a five dollar bill for both to see. “I found this baby for us to use on coins! It’s all on me today–”

“Where’s my wallet, Ace?!”

[malfoysmaybank]

drivers license - stanley barber

a/n: i was having some writers block on my requests and i’ve been sobbing to this song on repeat, so here’s a fic for my bebs stanley barber. i also changed one lyric from “blonde girl” to “one girl” because it fit the plot more!

warnings: angst, you might cry (i did while writing this lols), parent absence, fluff at the end because i couldn’t break my heart with this one, but some straight angst is coming soon!!!!

word count: 1.7k+

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You had been best friends with Stanley Barber since you were young, maybe 10. You had stood up for him when some kids were pushing him around because of his outfit. 

“Hey! Get off of him!” You said, yelling at the trio of 5th grade boys pushing another boy to the ground. “Or what, Y/N? You’ll tattle? We aren’t scared of a girl.” The leader of the pack said. You clenched your jaw and punched him straight in the nose. You weren’t going to let a man talk to you like that. The leader started crying and ran off, his sidekicks following after him. You walked over to the boy on the ground and helped him up. “T-Thanks for that.” He said as he got back up. “No problem. I’m Y/N, by the way. Y/N Y/L/N.” You extended your hand for a handshake. He took it. “Stanley. Stanley Barber.”

You’ve been close ever since. You ate lunch with him that day and  bonded over silly things like tv shows and favorite colors. In middle school, he helped you develop your style and you bonded over new things like favorite bands and books. You had his back and he had yours. He truly was your best friend.

However, you started seeing Stanley in a new light in eighth grade. He had gotten taller, his face a little more structured. He also learned how to play guitar that year. He wrote a song about you, of all things. Nobody had ever done something like that for you before. You started noticing the little things he did for you. He would randomly bring a bag of your favorite candy to lunch if he saw you were having a bad day. He taught you how to play piano because he thought it sounded nice with your voice. You fell in love with Stanley Barber. Fuck. Of course you’d NEVER tell him. You couldn’t fuck up the only good thing in your life right now. So that meant silently suffering whenever he had a crush on someone.

That’s the issue, you couldn’t be happy for him when he was with someone else. You spent countless days crying alone in your room after he’d go on for hours about his newest crush. This continued for a straight 3 years. His newest crush was Sydney Novak. You thought this one would blow over, just like his past few, but it didn’t. In fact, this one was the strongest crush he’s ever had. He’d been ditching you to hang out with her. He wasn’t even there to see you get your drivers license, something he’d been so encouraging about. He basically taught you how to drive because he knew how much it meant to you. He didn’t even know you had passed your test, never once asking. But in the sparse moments when he didn’t blow off plans, he’d constantly be talking about her. One of those sparse moments being tonight.

You were currently in his room/basement and he was going on one of his Sydney rants. “She’s so cool, Y/N. I mean, I’ve never met someone who I’ve clicked with more.” Um ouch, but whatever. “I don’t know, she’s just different. Like, in a good way though.” Three deep breaths, Y/N. 3… “We even hooked up the other night.” 2… “I think I’m in love with her.” 1. “Look Stanley, not to be rude, but do you EVER shut up about her?!” You spat. He looked over at you in shock. “I can’t do this tonight… I’m leaving.” You grab your ‘save the earth’ backpack and start jogging up the stairs to leave. 

He follows as you open the door to his garage. “Woah, woah, woah, Y/N. What’s up?” Stan calls from behind you. You grab your skateboard and lift up the garage door. It’s pouring outside, but you don’t care. You go to leave but feel a hand on your wrist stop you. “You’re not going out in weather like that, just come inside and we can talk.” He says gently, still slightly confused. “About what, Sydney again? Don’t you get it Stanley?!” You snap in his face. His eyebrows furrow and you let out a sarcastic laugh, tears building in your eyes. “Of course you don’t. You’ve been so wrapped up in Sydney that you forgot who I was! I’m so done, Stan. I can’t sit here and pretend that I don’t care anymore. Don’t bother hanging out with me anymore.” You snap and rip your wrist away from Stanley’s grip. 

You drop your board and get on, pushing as fast as you can. He calls after you but you block him out. When you’re a far distance away from him and his house, you just sit down on the side of the road and cry. Hurt that he’ll never be yours. Angry that he doesn’t care about you anymore. Frustrated because you tried to be the glue that held your friendship together, but even glue can’t fix the titanic.

You didn’t go to school for the next week. Your parents wouldn’t care, they weren’t even here. Still on some ‘business trip’ just like every week. Instead, you did something that calms you. Wrote music about how you were feeling. You played piano basically all week. Singing anything and everything you were feeling. It made you feel worse sometimes, but in the end it felt worth it.

Stan pulled into your driveway in his dad’s piece of shit car. He needed to work this out with you, he hadn’t seen you all week and he was worried. He missed his best friend. As he quietly closed the car door, he heard the piano playing. He didn’t recognize the song, he was curious. He didn’t even bother knocking, knowing you would slam the door in his face if you knew it was him. He quietly shut the front door and he heard your voice. It got louder as he walked closer to your bedroom door. He’d always loved your voice, it put him to sleep some nights. He could see you slightly, the door left ajar. He listened in.

“I got my drivers license last week,

Just like we always talked about.

'Cause you were so excited for me

To finally drive up to your house.

But today I drove through the suburbs,

Crying 'cause you weren't around”

You sang flawlessly, not a single note out of tune. There was so much emotion behind your voice. So much hurt, anger, frustration. He continued listening, trying to find out who caused you so much hurt. He’d bash their face in, that’s for sure.

“And you're probably with that one girl

Who always made me doubt.

She's so much older than me,

She's everything I'm insecure about”

With that first line, it hit him. He’d caused this hurt. The anger, the frustration, that was him. He was so angry with himself that he almost missed the next line… almost.

“Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs,

'Cause how could I ever love someone else?”

You… you loved him? He’d spent so much time on Sydney that he hadn’t even realized what was in front of him all these years. Except he had.

“And I know we weren't perfect, but I've never felt this way for no one.

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone.”

God damn it! He could’ve confessed sooner, instead of ignoring his feelings. And for what? A mindless hookup with Sydney?! He could’ve had you this whole time, but he fucked up.

“....Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me.”

You said that line softly. No anger, or frustration, or even confusion behind that line. Just hurt. He saw a single tear fall down your cheek as you stopped singing. There was more to that song, you just couldn’t continue. He’d be sure to ask you to sing the rest of it later, but right now he needed to fix this. You stood up from the piano bench and he burst through the door. “Stanley, what are you doi-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he wrapped his arms around you and brought your head to his chest. “I meant every word of that damn song. Every word. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” Tears flowed down your face as you tightly hugged him back and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “I love you. And I’ll be better for you. I should’ve treated you with the respect and love you deserve. I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Please give me a second chance, please.” He cried. “I love you too, Stan.” You started. “But I don’t know.” He squeezed you tighter (but still as gentle as possible, he didn’t want to hurt you), with more tears flowing out of his eyes. “Please, Y/N. I’ll be better. If I give you anything less than the love and attention you deserve, you have my full permission to punch me square in the face and kick me to the curb.” You both giggled, still crying. 

He let go of you to hold your face in his hands. “Please?” He begged. “...Okay, fine. But we need to go over how you’re going to do better in the future and what we can do to help each other communicate better and stuff.” You said. He picked you up and spun you around, making you squeal. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Y/N!! I promise I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” You laughed as he set you down and leant down to whisper in your ear. “Want to hear a secret?” He said, sending shivers down your spine. “I never liked Sydney.” He laughed as you hit his chest. “You dick!” You exclaimed, shocked. He swiftly pulled you in by the waist, your faces inches apart as your hands rested on his chest. “You love me, though.” He whispered. “That I do.” You said and finally closed the gap. Damn, you could kiss this boy forever. Alas, the moment is cut short because unfortunately, humans need oxygen to survive. “I love you too.” He says and smiles, giving you a peck on the forehead. “Could you sing the rest of that song for me? I love your voice but that songwriting was INCREDIBLE.” He says and you nod.

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permanent taglist: 

@loonylunaandthenargles​

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

Winter Rain

I'd like to thank @xerxezra for the encouragement. I really needed it, and to the Enya song in which the title and fic is based on. I'm still working on the fic to go with a fanart of mine, but until then feel free to check out my other fics which can be found on my Fanfic Masterpost or Ao3 links which are in my description under my header.

In this fic the reader deals with a change in plans.

_______________

City streets were passing by, underneath stormy skies. No, there were no neon signs but there were cargo trains rolling by on the tracks parallel to the main road. Hmm, wasn't that an Enya song? Perhaps it was.

Funny that you were thinking of new age songs when none were playing on the radio, though you wouldn't have minded if any music was on; it would've made a difference. Enya's songs in themselves reminded you of that one teacher in elementary school who wore that cherry brooch you liked and drowned herself in a bottle of perfume. Your teacher, whatever her name, was halfway pleasant, but always wore a blouse which was a size too big and thus you always saw more of her then you cared to whenever she leaned over a desk to assist another student. Another Enya song, Only Time, reminded you of that one book you tried to read around that time with the questionable cover. Of course, neither of these things had anything to do with the drive home, but it was a passing nostalgia you couldn't pass up.

Wiry, naked trees were scattered along the way; none of them of much consequence except to the fragments of your imagination, where they were dancers in a wintery, mournful ballet. For his part, Rick was unaware of these random thoughts, for you had not mentioned them, but you did wonder about something else when you took a glance at the time and found you two were getting home a little faster than usual. “Rick, do you prefer driving? Or is flying in your spaceship easier?”

“I-I think each one is great in its own way,” he answered, keeping his eyes on the road. “but th-the fastest way to travel is by using my portal gun.”

“So it is. Hmm, makes me wonder what the Flash would have to say about that.” you commented as rain pitter-pattered against the passenger side window. “I bet he'd have a few things to say if you can catch him.”

“Gee, I don't know. I'll ugh - I'll have to ask him the next time I'm in his Earth dimension.”

Sometimes you didn't know if he was being serious or simply joking, though you tended to believe him, especially since it only added to your natural wonder. Your curiosity was a quality which tickled him immensely, but whether he could withstand it while driving was not something you were about to test. Outside, straight ahead, the roads looked all the same, although, to the discerning eye, one would notice the cracks here and there, and the splattered paint on the curb closest to city hall and the fire station. And while the roads were neither empty or full, you would say they were in want of life and perhaps a good shoveling, but with whatever technology hidden in the nooks and crannies of his station wagon, you two drove on the icy roads with ease. It was cold outside, but you weren't cold; Rick made sure of that by giving you the heated seat and a quilt to drape over yourself.

You were, however slightly bored because Zeta-7 hadn't been talking all that much this evening. He had been in a mood and you thought it could've had something to do with the phone call he received while you two were at the craft shop but he didn't say. It hadn't made him any less sweet, but he seemed distant in a familiar way that you were sure you had experienced some time ago. Perhaps he was fearful, he would have reason; contemplative as always; afraid, to an almost unhealthy degree, but risking a chance to placate him, you joked. “Are you trying something new? Is it a seduction tactic, cause I'm certainly intrigued.”

“Wh-what?” he blushed, as he turned the corner to head towards your street.

“Aren't you trying the broodish thing all cool guys do in those cheap romance novels? You know, the kind they sell at the drugstore?” you giggled, turning up the heat in the car to fit your preference.

“Gosh, n-n-no. I ugh - I-I don't think I'm cool enough t-t-to do that.”

“Really? Well, I think if you wanted to you could, though I doubt you'd try it unless convinced it would work. Not sure how effective it would be on me, but this isn't about me. What's going on with you,” you questioned with a serious, but gentle candor. “you haven't said much tonight.”

“I ugh - I have a few things on my mind is all, but it's going t-to be okay. I'm sorry if I alarmed you.”

“Not too much, I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Are you?”

Stopping in front of your home, he admitted with a sudden disheartenment. “I don't know. Sometimes it's - it's hard to know especially if you hear bad news but I th-think I will be. Eventually.”

One of his watches was flashing, and it made you wonder if it meant what you thought it meant. While you couldn't read the line of code which passed over its digital face, you thought you'd seen a similar line of code before. “Are you going to have to go? Is that what's bothering you? I know you promised that we'd paint together tonight, but you won't be able to will you?”

“No, I'm - I'm sorry. I had asked for the whole week off, but this - it's from my supervisor. I can't ignore it. I have to go in. I-I really wish I didn't have to.”

“Oh Rick, if you had to go, why didn't you tell me earlier? I would've understood.”

“You were having such a-a great time picking out supplies that I didn't - I couldn't bring myself to crush your excitement. Now th-that I think about it, I don't know if this was any better, but I-I asked that I'd be able to bring you home first so that I wouldn't have to worry about leaving you there without a-a word.”

Zeta-7 hated to break his promises, and you hated the feeling of a broken promise, but as he switched the car off, and you two walked towards your porch, you admitted. “I would've figured it out and got home somehow. I mean there's enough Uber drivers in this town, and one of them would've driven me home, but I'm glad that at least I had this time with you. Please be careful and visit me whenever. You know you can.”

Instead of comforting him as your easy resignation usually would, he balled his fists and hit them against the railing; hateful of his own inadequacies. You had to admit that when he got upset, it caught you off guard, but it also reminded you that he still was very much a Rick, albeit a softer one. “Th-this wasn't supposed to happen. I-I don't understand why it always comes to this. We were - I had so many things planned out for us and th-”

You hugged him from behind, interrupting what he was going to say. “There will always be next time. Calm down,” you cooed, “it's all going to be okay. It's not the end of the world and I'm not upset by it.”

“But I don't - I don't want t-to keep doing this to you. I promised.”

“I know, but it's not like you do this on purpose. You see, this is what happens when a girl like me dates a guy like you. Expect the unexpected, and maybe a few space worms every once in a while if I eat a sandwich from a gas station on a comet somewhere. These things happen.”

“I wish it - it didn't. Lately,” he confessed, his voice taking on its softer quality. “I've been thinking a-about when I'd like to retire. Maybe I finally should.”

“Whatever you want to do, I'm okay with it. As long as it makes you happy, but only if you do it without regret. You would know best of course.”

“I-I certainly hope so.”

You two stood there in silence for a moment, but you heard a beeping noise emanate from under his sleeve. “I d-don't want to say goodbye, but I'll miss you m-mi corazón.”

When he wasn't around, your home felt emptier,

though you refrained from saying so, and because you didn't want to add to his guilt you simply said. “I'll miss you too.”

“Th-there's a chance I won't see you in a few days. At least it will feel th-that way for me.”

“You can always call me, and if you can't then I'll see you when I see you. You know where I'll be.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “somewhere I-I'm not.”

“Don't say that. You're always on my mind, and I'd like to think you're always with me, in one way or another. There's no way I couldn't think of you.”

He turned around to face you, his eyes appearing twice as expressive through his glasses. Zeta-7 studied you and brushed his thumb across the back of your hand. “Siempre estás c-conmigo, and because of - of that, I'm never truly l-lonely.”

“Oh Rick, I love you.”

As easily as it was to adore him with your entire being, so it was to break his heart. Whether it had been a lack of love or an abundance of heartache in his life thus far which shook him to his bones, a replenishing of spirit was always in order. You weren't tall, you never had been, but stepping on the tips of your toes, you pressed a kiss on his cheek that never failed to floor him, and marvel as though it were from a fairy queen; one comprised of stardust and moonbeams. “This means you belong to me. Got it cutie? No one else has dibs except for me, so don't look so surprised. You're mine.”

Like a tease, the weather picked up and the strong gust which followed made you shiver, which alarmed him and prevented his reply. You were trying to tough it out because he could be gone at any moment. And must've sensed this, for against your control you shivered once more, but he pulled off his own scarf to wrap around your neck. “It's going t-t-to get colder,” he said protectively. “so please don't forget to wrap yourself up tonight. I um - I placed a-a few thick blankets in your closet just in case. Why d-don't you go inside?”

“Because I can bear it for a little bit longer. Thank you,” you smiled sweetly up at him, despite losing feeling in your cheeks. “but I doubt I'll try to leave my house for the next few days. I'll look after this for you. Hopefully, it's going to be warmer where you're going.”

“I-I can't say, it's…”

“Classified information.” you finished.

“Gosh, I-I-I guess you know th-the drill by now. Smart girl.”

“Maybe. I don't know much, but I know you, and that you can't tell me certain things because you don't want whichever information to be held against me. At least I'm learning. Either way,” you softened, buttoning the top button on his jacket. “please be careful.”

“I-I will. Can I um - can I-I give you a kiss?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

Though of course, he would ask as though your disappointment would disqualify his validity to partake of your affection. He bent down to try to kiss you goodbye, his glasses fogging up at the closeness between you two, but a portal opened right behind him and the guard Rick's on the other side pulled him through. And like that, he was gone again; without a choice; without a goodbye. Your arms which had been around his waist a moment ago, you brought down to rest at your sides, and you too clenched your fists in quick frustration but found yourself halfway exhausted by the cold temperatures and suddenness of it all.

His scarf felt warm and soft about your neck and smelled like him; of vanilla, and of whatever his house smelled like. You thought of the painting that you two would not do tonight, and how you were once again alone. That seemed to magnify it all, intensify the fact that you might've always been alone and destined to remain as such. It used to make you cry when you realized that he could be taken from you at any moment, but you had gotten used to it, or at least you thought you did. Only a few hours ago, you two were at a café, discussing painting techniques and how with a little practice you too could paint that little tree you liked that was growing in the corner of your yard; his enthusiasm was contagious, and you were pumped because you really wanted to show him you had been practicing.

If once again someone cried, then it was you because he couldn't cry where he was going; he wouldn't dare to and repress it for as long as he could help it; if only you were as strong.

Oh, winter rain, how could it relate? It knew little except its natural way; of falling upon the earth; of life; of beginnings; of letting go; of uncertainty. Yet, it wasn't the rains fault; it does not know and could not know; if only. It was cold, and you were cold, with the only part of you that was really warm being where his scarf was.

Thinking of what lied in store for him made you want him back all the more so that you could hold him, and make him feel safe. You wanted him back now because it seemed so unfair that they'd take him when he didn't want to go, but you couldn't bring him back; not even for his sake; being against your power just like the rain. For now, all you could do was only open the front door to your home and step in as the last train passed by; not knowing when the next will come.

Fin

[thewinsisterchronicles]

I've got a request, you're the Winchesters sister (older than Sam but younger than Dean) and she sold her soul when she was about 16 to save John, she didn't tell anybody and 10 years later the hellhounds come to get her, she tries to be alone when she dies but it kinda failed and the boys have to see it happen (I hope it's not too much information!)

Word Count: 2818

Warnings: some swearing, a little bit gorey when she’s getting ripped to shreds by the hellhounds, just a heads up I almost made myself cry

A/N: ok so heads up I made myself want to curl up into a ball and die on the floor so im almost sorry for writing this but I couldn’t help myself its probably not even that emotional but still and whatever you do make sure that you do not listen to Brother by NEEDTOBREATHE bc I did and now im dead wow im making such a big deal out of this its probably because its like 1am but still

I hope this is what you wanted and sorry that it came out so late, but I just kind of got caught up in other stuff and couldn’t think of what to write soo yeah (btw I got the info for how to treat stab wounds from here and here should you guys ever feel the urge to know what to do in these scenarios)

“Dad!” Y/N heard Dean scream as the werewolf snuck behind John. She watched as the blade sank into his stomach, one hand stifling his grunt of pain.

“No,” she whispered. “No!” Quickly, she shot the monster in the back, running over to where Dean was trying to support his father.

“Y/N,” he snapped. “Bring the car around back. We’re taking him back to the motel and stitching him back up. Go,” he added when she didn’t move.

Nodding slowly, she ran to the impala. Not wasting any time, she swung open the door and opened the driver’s door. She had to hurry, had to be fast. They could fix dad, he’d be fine. Otherwise…

No.

He’d be fine.

“Open the back door,” he grunted, helping his father to the car. “Sit back there with him. I’m going to drive.”

Quickly they moved, wary of the precious time they had left. Y/N had barely sat down on the seat beside John when the car lurched forward. She gasped, closing the car door and glaring at Dean.

“Y/N,” her father’s voice sounded pained. She checked the wound. It was bad. “Y/N.”

“Yeah?” she responded, not paying much attention to his words. She was too busy trying to figure out what to do while they were driving.

“Don’t…” he coughed. “Don’t let the boys do anything stupid, okay?”

“You’re going to have to hold me to that,” she grunted, ripping off her flannel to use it to stop the blood flow. “You’re not dying on me. Not now.”

“Y/N-” he tried again.

“Dean,” she interrupted. “Step on it. He’s bleeding through everything I can give him.”

“Got it.” The car accelerated, blurring the lights of passing storefronts and homes as they sped towards the motel.

Y/N closed her eyes, pre-planning the next steps. She’d have to first get him inside without shifting him so he’d bleed harder, and then find gauze to stop the bleeding. Once that was finished, she’d clean the wound, sterilize it, and-

“Y/N!” Dean called back to her. “We’re here. Get Sam!” Y/N scrambled to get out of the car, racing inside.

“Y/N?” Sam asked, standing up from his position on the bed. “What-”

“Dad’s hurt,” Dean interrupted, half-carrying him through the door. “Y/N, what do we do?” Sam and Dean looked to her, awaiting orders. She had always been the one to stitch them all back up, even when she herself was injured. It was like they all had a role: Dad was the leader; Dean was the soldier who made sure all the orders were carried out; Sammy did the research; and Y/N was the medic. Together, they kicked ass.

Until now.

“Y/N!” Dean yelled at her, shaking her from her thoughts. “What do we do?”

“Lay him down on the bed,” she ordered. “Sam, apply pressure. Dean, sterilize it. Do not touch the knife. Leave it in. It’s stopping most of the blood flow, and any movement could cause further damage.”

They all scrambled in haste to attend her orders. She tore his clothes to further inspect his wound.

“Y/N,” John coughed. She immediately shoved a pillow beneath his head. “Y/N, remember what I said-”

“No,” she said sternly, looking him in the eye. “You are not dying. I am not becoming an orphan, not today. Sam! Where are you?”

“Coming!” he called rushing over to the bed with his cloth. Y/N scrambled back, letting Sam fill in her spot. Dean followed close behind, following the procedure that she had drilled into his brain from the numerous times she had performed them on him.

She turned to the bathroom, washing her hands and splashing some water on her face. Come on, Y/N, she thought to herself. Dad’s… face it. Dad’s dying, and you don’t know what to do. How can you save him?

Then it hit her.

She vaguely remembered seeing a crossroads on the way here. She knew the moment the knife had plunged into her father’s abdomen that she wasn’t nearly well trained enough to deal with this; not with the supplies she had. There was only one way to save him at this point.

Y/N ran out of the bathroom, snatching her jacket and racing out the door.

“Y/N!” Dean screamed for her, but she kept sprinting. “Y/N, get your ass back in here! Dad’s-” his voice broke off. He was unable to say it. She had to act fast.

Y/N always knew this day would come. That was why she carried a premade box around with her, inside her jacket when they hunted should the occasion ever arise. Quickly she made her way to the gravel road, stopping dead center in the parking lot. Checking to see she wasn’t being followed, she planted the box. Scooping the dirt back over it, she stood up.

“C’mon,” she tapped her foot impatiently. “Come on, you stupid son of a-”

“I’d watch that tongue, sweetie,” a voice from behind her. She whipped around, coming face to face with a young woman. She had dark features and wore black clothing. Not that it mattered to Y/N.

“Save my dad,” she practically yelled. The demon raised an eyebrow. She collected herself, taking a deep breath. “Please.”

“You know the terms, I assume?” the demon asked slowly. Too slowly for Y/N’s liking. “Ten long, good-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N said, striding over to her. “Ten years. I know. Now shut up and take my soul.” With that, she planted her lips on the demon’s. She was shocked at first, but quickly responded.

“See you then,” she smirked before leaving Y/N to walk back to the motel, still in shock from what she had just done. She had barely walked back inside the motel room when Dean was in her face.

“What the hell, Y/N?” he nearly shouted. She frowned, confused as to why he wasn’t screaming, until she saw her father. His chest was gently rising and falling, as though he had just taken a nap and not been stabbed. The blood was hardly flowing, and he was… snoring? Y/N didn’t think that she’d ever heard her father snore before.

“He’s fine.” She shrugged him off, going to sit on her bed. She put her head in her hands.

“He wasn’t when you left!” he spat at her. Sam didn’t even look at his sister. “Y/N, he could have died, and you left. Next time you decide to bail on family, go ahead and stay away.”

“Dean,” she whispered. “Please. I was-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he snapped. “Now that no one is dead, I’m going for a walk. Because I actually tried to help, so I deserve that.” With that, he left.

“Y/N,” Sam said after a minute of silence. “You did know… you did know that dad was going to be okay, right? Before you left?” She smiled wearily, trying not to memorize every feature of her little brother’s face. She attempted to not memorize his soft eyes, his optimistic tone, his mussy hair and innocence.

“Of course, Sam. I had it all under control.”

*Ten Years Later*

Y/N drank down the last of her whiskey as she glanced at the clock on her phone. It flashed 11:56pm in the faint light the screen provided. She sat down on the curb, watching as the cars drove by. She waited, ever so calm and patient, for it to come.

For them to come.

She had been experiencing the symptoms recently: visions; sounds; the whole shebang. Y/N thought she had done a fairly good job at hiding them from her brothers, but they weren’t totally convinced. That was why they were watching her from far away. Not that she knew.

It was ten years exactly. Ten years since the deal. Though Sam left and dad did die eventually, she didn’t regret it. There was some sort of a calm washing over her. She was going to die for a good cause, and her brothers wouldn’t see it.

A twig snapped behind her.

She didn’t even turn around. She sighed, standing up.

“I’ll come into the alley. Make it easier to clean up.”

Silently she walked into the alleyway, taking one last swig of alcohol before setting it on the ground. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a letter. She laid it by her canteen. A single tear slipped. I love you, Sam and Dean, she thought to herself. I love you boys.

“Take me away,” she whispered. Then hot breath blew against her neck, and she was knocked to the ground. She didn’t put up a fight.

“Y/N!” Dean screamed, sprinting towards her. Sam was close behind. “Y/N!”She turned her head around, a sad smile plastered on her face.

“Sam, Dean,” she coughed out, body being torn to shreds by some invisible force. “I-”

Her throat was slashed. She spoke no more.

After a moment, the slicing stopped.

The boys ran to her side, tears streaming down their faces. Sam clutched her jacket front, sobbing openly into her chest. There was no heartbeat, no warmth, no nothing expect the cold and metallic scent of her blood and body tissue that made him want to throw up.

“Y/N!” Dean screamed. “No, you selfish- how could you- why?” His body wracked with cries, leaning his forehead against hers, trying to will her to come back. It was nearly an hour before either of them saw the flask and folded paper beside it. Sam moved to it first. He read it, fresh tears springing to his eyes.

“Dean,” he croaked. “Dean.”

“What?” his brother snapped.

“She… she left a note.”

“… What?”

“Here. Read it.”

He thrust the paper out to Dean, who hesitantly took it. Taking a shuddering breath, he opened the letter.

Dear Sam and Dean,

I know I should have told you, but when I tried it couldn’t come out. There were so many times when I tried to memorize your face, your voice, your everything, that I figured you shouldn’t be burdened with it. It was my weight to carry, and I have never welcomed a trouble more.

Remember that hunt we went on, ten years ago to this date? It was a werewolf case. It got dad. I just couldn’t let him die. So, I sold my soul. I suppose it doesn’t matter much now that he’s gone anyways, but I’m glad I did it. He lived so we could have a parent an adult to watch over us. I did it so Dean wouldn’t have to be the oldest, watch out for his younger siblings. I don’t regret it.

Dean, after reading this and thinking about our argument, I know you’re going to blame yourself. Please, try not to. I know you will anyways, but I love you and don’t want you to go through that. God, I can’t say that enough. I love you. I love you. I love you. Don’t you dare ever forget it or think otherwise. I will kick your ass from beyond the grave so help me. All I ask is that you accept this, don’t do what I did, and move on. Don’t forget me, but accept what has happened and move on. I don’t want you to suffer. I love you. Accept my passing and move forwards. Don’t be afraid to cry. Don’t be afraid to fear. To be afraid to experience emotions. Taking care of yourself takes care of more than yourself. I love you. The only thing I ask you to be strong for is Sam. I know he can take care of himself, but I still worry about the kid. I love you. More than you’ll ever know. I’ll miss you. I’ll miss your stupid jokes and the way your jaw sets when you’re trying to hold in your emotions and I’ll miss your eyes that remind me of second grade when I climbed up in the tree and played with the leaves after the bully pushed me to the ground and you sat with me, saying that you loved me and that nothing would ever happen to me. Nothing ever did. Know that. You couldn’t have stopped me, even if you wanted to. I love you. I love you so much.

Sammy, my not-so-little brother. You never gave up on me, even when I gave up on myself. I can never repay you for that. Please, I know you are going to find some way to blame yourself, and so will Dean. I just need you to be there for him. Remember all those times where the world was trying to tear us apart, and remember how we said, “Screw you. We’re a family.” I know you’re going to hurt, and I know you’re going to hurt bad. And that’s okay. It’s okay for you to want to cry, to scream, to break everything until there is nothing left and your knuckles bleed. It’s okay for you to fall to your knees, as long as you get back up again. Please, know I love you. I’ll never tell you enough. I never told you enough. I love you. I love your long hair (don’t tell Dean, but it always made me happy when you let me run my fingers through it). I love your eyes that I can never quite describe, the way they always seem to change colours but never fail to turn back to my favourite shade of sunshine through whiskey, copper against sage and honey and when they glow I never fail to smile because even when I felt like calling the hounds early, you always carried me forwards. You never even knew it. I love you. I’m going to miss your quirkiness and love for learning and the way that you always would light up when you knew the answer to a question or saw that we were proud of you. I’ll never stop being proud of you. I’ll never stop loving you.

All the way through hell, I’ll remember you boys and be okay. I’m going to be okay. I’m going to remember how much I love you two, how much I love the way that you’re always bickering to make me laugh and the way that Dean smells like gun smoke and whiskey that I can call home, the way that Sam always tries to look for the best in things, the way that even though life has thrown him every curveball it has that he still hasn’t backed down.

I’m going to try to stop writing how proud I am of you boys before I tear up and ruin this page like I did with the others. Please, be there for each other. Don’t drink away your pain. Remember me. Know I love you. I love you so much. God, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop writing it down. I love you. I love you. I love you. You two have always been there for me, so I ask that you be there for each other. I know you’ll both want to take the impala and drive away from each other and not speak about this incident for days, weeks- hell, probably not even years if I know anything about you two- but please, stay with each other. That’s all I want for you two. I love you. Please, help each other. Be available for each other. Don’t go through this alone. Always keep fighting for me. I love you both so much. More than I can say, more than I can write. I’d do this all again if I knew it meant that you two would at least grow up off the streets, with some sort of food in your stomachs on a somewhat regular basis.

I love you both. Please, carry on. I love you. Don’t worry. Hopefully, we won’t see each other anytime soon. When you go to heaven, think of me. Think of our family. We’ll be alright. You’ll be alright. And don’t bother trying to save me. I made sure with the demon that you two couldn’t bring me back.

I love you. So, so much.

Love from your sister,

Y/N.

There was a short funeral.

Bobby showed up. Rufus showed up. Every single hunter they’d met showed up. Y/N had impacted a lot of people. She’d saved a lot of lives.

The body was up in flames before the sun set. Sam and Dean were at the front, where no one could see the tears on their faces. Not that anyone would have the audacity to mention it. Not when there were streaks on their own.

“I love you too, Y/N,” Sam whispered. His voice cracked, even though he barely was heard.

“More than you’ll ever know,” Dean finished. He looked to the sky. “I love you. We all do. I promise, no one will ever forget you. You have my word, sister.”

[smoothshift]

I've become a BMW fan after experiencing some of their cars via the BMW Town Tour via /r/cars

I've become a BMW fan after experiencing some of their cars via the BMW Town Tour

On Tuesday, June 3rd, 2019, I went to a BMW event called "Town Tour." Someone posted about it on /r/Cars a couple months ago, and I can't remember who you are, so though I can't thank you via tagging you here, if you see this, please know I greatly appreciate you posting the link to the site.

One thing that all the participants suffered through during this event was lack of actual drive time. In Murrieta, CA, where this event was hosted, there was a major accident on the freeway, so the roads were jam-packed with commuters who had to exit the freeway. The BMW Town Tour staff limited us to basically just driving in a circle around the BMW dealership. At most, I took an M5 up to 65 mph, but goddamn did it get there quickly!

The first car I drove was this BMW M4 Competition (+ bonus M4 CS pics from the dealership's showroom floor). I immediately became a fan. It felt like this car was just urging me to continue accelerating. The interior oozed a level of luxury I had never before experienced, but I think it mostly stood out just because it was a brown/tan color instead of the all-black interiors I'm so used to in friends' Infintis and Benz cars. This car's sheer acceleration had me wondering wtf it must feel like driving an exotic. The fastest car I drove before these BMW M-cars was a tuned Nissan GT-R, but I only drove it for a mile in a straight line before bringing it back to the owner. I actually got to mildly corner with this car when coming around turns that followed the road layout the Town Tour staff set for us. Obviously, I wasn't all out cornering or anything like one would do on a track, but I could really feel the effort BMW put into the suspension. I strictly drove the car in Sport Plus mode, so I don't know what the Comfort or regular Sport modes entail. Overall, with enough funds, I thought I could see myself driving one of these in a heartbeat until I drove the next car.

The BMW M2 Competition! I think this was my favorite car. Maybe it was just my brain tricking me because I loved this car so much, but it felt like it was faster than the M4. Then again, I had gotten more comfortable driving the cars, so I suppose I was willing to go a bit deeper into the RPM range before upshifting. I swear I'd do dirty things to get this car in my garage. The power, the fact the car seemed to go in any direction I even gently turned the steering wheel toward, and just the overall appearance really cemented it as the 'Ultimate Driving Machine.' Save for the Nissan Maxima I bought my wife, every car I've ever owned has been under 3000 lbs curb weight. I see that the M2 Competition comes in a bit over 3400 lbs, but I couldn't tell. It really felt like the car was lighter.

Up next was the BMW M850i Convertible. This car seemed cool and all, but unlike the other cars in the lineup, the BMW Town Tour staff wouldn't allow anyone to drive it solo. We had to have a guide with us, and the person who went with me seemed to be selling me on the car (as if I could afford a car with a $109k MSRP 😂) by just mentioning features that went in one ear and out the other. Unfortunately, she didn't tell me we were going on an actual test drive. What happened was I signed up for the M5 first, but someone took it for a spin and went off the road layout we were supposed to follow. That jack ass got stuck in the traffic I mentioned earlier. The tour staff asked if I was interested in driving the M850i earlier than my slotted time, but they made it sound like the tour guide was coming with me just to check out the road conditions. We literally just took one low-speed spin around the streets and came back to the dealership. When I realized that was my test drive, I was very disappointed. I didn't even get to open the car up at all. And to add insult to injury, the person who drove it after me actually got to experience the car with the top down, but they had two tour guides accompany him for some reason.

Lastly, I drove this BMW M5. As you can probably tell, I got lazier with taking pictures as the morning went on. One thing I can say about this M5 that will surprise everyone here? It's insanely fast! (Shocking, right? Who woulda thunk it?) The M5's power can be felt as soon as you gently step on the gas pedal. I thought the M4 and M2 were quick, but this thing blew me away with its acceleration. I only got to take it to 65 mph, but it got there so fast that I didn't even realize I was 20 over the speed limit at first. I giggled like a schoolgirl every time I hit the gas pedal. The upshifts were ridiculously quick, too. Obviously, I can't differentiate the milliseconds of difference between one car's upshifts over the other's, but I could just sense the M5's upshifts were blindingly quick. I am a traditional manual transmission enthusiast, but I can see why people love paddle-shifters now. The quickness in the upshifts is unmatched by any manual car I've ever driven. My test drive of this car lasted fewer than 10 minutes. The guy who drove it before me ruined the event for everyone by taking the M5 out for an over 1-hour test drive with his wife. It seemed like the staff got more strict on how far we could go and how long we could drive.

Inside the dealership, they had this BMW that apparently has won a lot of races. The interior was completely stripped besides having a driver's seat.

I also saw this BMW Supra. It was the 4-cylinder with 255 hp. The dealership was asking $59k for this! I was flabbergasted. I can't imagine how much they'll charge for the 6-cylinder when they get one at the dealership.

FINAL THOUGHTS

I always thought BMWs seemed cool af, but I never drove any before this event. Now that I've officially driven a few of their cars, I have to admit I'm a fan.

Would I ever buy one? Probably never a new one. And if I did buy a used one, I'd probably go through CarMax just for their extended warranty. It feels like these cars have too much technology. With the click of a button, you can change the suspension dynamics. That seems like it's a recipe for financial disaster once the suspension needs any kind of maintenance.

I drive this beautiful Toyota 86 as my daily. Her name is Tiana. She's my "forever car," meaning I intend to keep her for the rest of my life. I initially thought I was going to feel disappointed jumping from these 400+ hp BMWs back into my 205 hp 86, but I honestly felt at home. The BMWs were nice; however, I can't help but think they just have too much power for the road. Anybody who can afford the payments on one, and even idiots who lack the funds yet are financially incompetent enough to finance one anyway, can drive these beasts down the same roads as people putting along in Corollas and Cruzes. That's scary.

Just imagine as these cars insanely depreciate and are priced under $20k in 10-15 years. High schoolers driving around in 400+ hp performance cars? Yikes!