#one jacket per season

[freshthoughts2020]

[robynlilyblack]

But you’re over here

Fred Weasley x fem! shy! Potter! Reader

Summary: During the final game of the season, a certain redhead couldn’t care less about the trophy

Warnings/tags: swearing, friends to lovers, first kiss, getting together, mutual pining, Hufflepuff reader, potter reader, James being a good dad, Cedric being the best wing and hype man, Jess, Timothy and Joey OCs, marauders being parents

A/n: 4.4k words, ngl the alchemy plays in my head during this kiss scene, apologies for any mistakes I'm a bit ill right now, as always reader can be the bio or adopted older daughter of James and Lily, based on this and this requests ♡

Navigation | Fred Weasley Masterlist

“Oh boy, oh boy!” James claps his hands, rubbing them together in excitement as he, Lily, Remus, and Sirius reach the top of the stands 

Lily giggles at her husband's enthusiasm, following him to the front row, while Remus and Sirius brace themselves at the top, catching their breaths after a quite frankly atrocious number of stairs

Today was the big game, not only was it the old rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor, but it was the final, and the first year Harry was serving as captain after Oliver passed the torch to him two years ago. It was safe to say as fun as the Triwizard tournament was the previous year, quidditch was still the marauders and co’s favourite pastime. Hell, the whole school was buzzing

“Were they always that high?” Sirius whispers, rubbing his chest “Fuck me” he breathes heavily

“I think we’re just old now my love” Remus chuckles, after all these years he still can’t help but wind up his husband just a little bit

Sirius makes a face “Fuck you! I’m not old…you’re old!” he childishly argues, wearing a grumpy pout that twitches everyone once and again, revealing the smile beneath

“And when is your birthday?” 

Sirius’ mouth opens to reply but alas the man has nothing and is caught looking like a fish, though he’s a very cute fish in Remus’ mind

“We might be old…but you’re still as pretty as you were last time we were up here” Remus compliments, leaning down to peck Sirius’ tinting cheeks “Pretty boy” he whispers one last blow before pushing off the beam and joining his friends leaving Sirius flustered 

“Pads? You comin?” James calls out, head shooting over “Ohhhh” James barks a knowing laugh, whispering something to Remus and patting his back as he sits down

Sirius can’t help but let out a small smile as they turn away “He thinks I’m pretty” he mutters all giddy to himself before joining his friends, taking a seat between Remus and James, with Lily on James’ other side

“See! I told you we were smart coming early, it’s already beginning to fill up” Lily points out, smiling to herself as she shrugs off her jacket, grabbing the others as well, before laying them on the seats behind them to save room for when the McKinnon’s made their fashionably late appearance

James smiles, hand finding the top of Lily's head “That we were, hun” he agrees, patting her head and soaking up her proud little smile as she smooths out the rest of the coats

“Who are you looking for?” Remus asks, pulling James’ attention back to find Sirius squinting off into the distance

“Our goddaughter, I haven’t seen her in ages” Sirius pouts, squinting harder

“You saw her at Easter break” James chuckles 

“Oh yeah” Sirius nods, remembering “Still, I miss her” he confesses, warming the men's hearts

Sirius and Remus decided against children, not that they didn’t want them per se, more they couldn’t confirm the child's safety with Remus’ furry little problem. As such, they filled that hole with you and Harry. Sirius took an extra shine to you though, maybe it was your shy yet cheeky nature that reminded him of Remus, or maybe it’s the little bit of himself he saw in you, watching you get sorted into Hufflepuff when everyone else in your big, wonderfully weird family was Gryffindor. Whatever it was, though today was Harry’s day, he still had to make sure you were alright

“Do you want your glasses?” Remus offers, sighing as he watches his husbands sorry display and reaches for his bag

Sirius swats his hand away “I don’t need glasses moony, I’m fine. It’s just the wind, it’s blowing stuff in my eyes” he gestures around his face, scrunching his nose before attempting to subtly squint again

Remus’ eyes meet James’, shaking his head as he mouths ‘why can’t he admit defeat?’

James smirks, shrugging as he turns away, now interested in where you were, as is Lily after overhearing the debacle. The four searched for you as the student body make their way to the stands. Glancing around Remus’ spots a wild Weasley, smiling as he watches Ron attempt to hold back his blushes as Hermione fixes the red paint on his cheeks. Lily spots Neville, Ginny and Luna in another stand wearing their handmade lion mains. Sirius spots well…nothing, but your father on the other hand is the one to finally find you. 

He watches as you enter the stand diagonal to them with Cedric, Jess and two other boys he doesn’t quite recognise but based on their green scarfs must be Timothy and Joey, which would be two out of the four very few Slytherins in this world he accepted were good, the others being his best friends’ brother and the one and only Dorcas Meadows

“Found her” he points with joy “There she is, ain’t our little fawn beautiful” he shines, causing all their eyes to fall on you as you all worm your way to the front of your own stand

“It’s funny seeing them in red and gold” Remus notes, an amused look as he observes yours, Cedric, and Jess’s Gryffindor scarves, most likely stolen from your brother and his friends…or perhaps secretly gifted from one particular Weasley

Lily nods, but her head tilts to the side as your head taps the taller of the other boy's shoulders “They seem close, which one is he again, Tim or Joe?” she ponders trying to remember

“Tim, she said he was tall in the letters” James confirms “They aren’t together” he says with confidence

“And how would you know that Captain Oblivious?” Remus’ laughs, eyeing his friend but then his gaze drifts to peak at his husband, who's been unusually quiet, realising he’s still very much struggling to see you

Remus slowly collects the glasses from his bag again and holds them up in offering

“Dammit” Sirius sighs accepting the truth and putting them on, looking grumpy until his eyes widen, like he’s seeing a brand-new world

“Better love?” Remus teases while pointing you out again

“Shut up moo…aww there she is, beautiful as ever” he adjusts them smiling “Wait…whoa” he looks at James doing a double take as everything is now in high definition “You’ve aged so well” he notes

James’ smirks “Why thank you, I steal Lily’s muggles products” he admits unapologetically, not that it’s much of a surprise to the girl next to him who just rolls her eyes, accepting the fact she now buys two of every product just for him

“It’s the one with lighter hair, not Cedric, the taller one” Remus points out to Sirius

“Oh…” Sirius eyes the boy, judging “...nah”

“What do you mean nah?” everyone jumps a little at first turning around to see Marlene, Dorcas and the cutest little lion there had ever been joining them “Holy shi… sugar those specks are something” Marlene laughs, catching herself before glancing at her wife, mouthing an apology while their daughter looks up at them confused

“Suu’gar” the little cub repeats before pointing at Sirius “Specky!” she says excitedly “Unkie Jams t‘win” she claps, pointing between James and Sirius before jumping and clapping again all happy with herself

Sirius’ quickly pulls the glasses off, cheeks heating while the others struggle to hold in their giggles 

“I don’t need them” he looks straight at Marlene, trying his best to be convincing

She just gives him a ‘really’ look in return before smiling softly 

Sirius half chuckles, half sighs as he admits defeat, flashing the women a genuine smile “It’s good to see you Marls, you too Dorca darlin” he then looks down at little Lacy “Hello little cub” he coos 

“Rwah!” Lacy holds up her hands in a claw motion, doing her best lion impression 

It was well known the Marauders had one brain cell between them, but when that cell fired it was magical, all including her mothers and godmother pretended she was the most fearsome thing they’d ever beheld, even a couple other parents who had taken seats little ways down joined in. After some pleas and chocolate offered to calm the beast, the group settled in again, catching up as they waited for the game to start.

You rocked on your feet, eyes continually flicking to the players entrance in anticipation

“You good sunshine?” you feel a soft pat to the top of your head, looking up you’re greeted with Timothy's soft smile, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he checked in, worried the ruckus and busyness of the stand was a bit overwhelming for you

You gently tap your head into his shoulder, nodding “I’m good…just excited” you confess with warm cheeks as your nose is flooded with the scent of your scarf again

“Ahhhh” he elongates, giving you and then the scarf a look “Y/n and Freddie sitting in a tree” he whisper sings

Your eyes widen before you attempt a scowl that looks more like a puppy pouting “Shut up” you chide, fixing the scarf a little before looking away, hoping Cedric, Jess and Joey were having a more in depth conversion but instead you find them grinning “Sugar” you press your lips into a downturned smile

They all looked at each other before singing in unison 

“K…i…s…s…i…n…g!” 

Despite your cheeks positively flaming around the second ‘s’, you can help but break into a smile. Your friends knew about your little crush on the Weasley boy from afar. Despite your brother’s closeness with the family you didn’t have such ties, you adored Ginny on the few occasions she had visited, along with Ron and Hermione, but as for the rest of the clan your paths rarely crossed. You were meant to spend the summer with them as your families decided to holiday together, but when Cedric won the Triwizard tournament that changed, and instead, he took you and your friends traveling with the prize money 

Yours paths finally crossed at the beginning of the school year, when Sprout created a seating pattern allowing everyone to get familiar with their randomised Herbology partner before the end of year assignment. You were nervous at first, as you were sure the professor was when she pulled out your names. Putting the quietest person in Hogwarts with the loudest person seemed like it would either be the worst pairing she had ever seen or the most genius 

To her good fortune…and ego, it was the latter. It was surprising to see the king of mischief actually try with his assignments, but most chalked it up to the fact that while you were quiet, you were well-loved by your year, you held no prejudices, helped people with their assignments when the asked you, and was just in general sweet to everyone, to the point even the meanest Slytherins were a little soft on you. Therefore, most assumed Fred couldn’t bear to let you down either, and while that was true at first, a second reason soon bloomed for the boy

It bloomed for you as well, you slowly opened up to him each class, topics drifting to something deeper, and by the time Christmas rolled around you both were close friends. So close in fact you began inviting him to your friend’s secret hideaway by black lake, at first to study, but then to hang out both with and without your other friends. It was funny at first, with Cedric and Jess being rivals in quidditch and Timothy and Joey's Slytherin status, but Fred warmed to them, gaining their trust and, not that they told either of you, their blessing 

“I hate you all” you pout, falling into Cedric’s side hug as you shake your head

“Nah” Timothy joins from the other side

“You love us” Jess chimes in, beaming at you

“Not as much as she loves him though” Joey adds cheekily, nodding towards the pitch, it seems none of you had noticed the crowds stir for the players appearances during your teasing session

Cedric and Timothy quickly retract their grasp, smiling at one another as you lunge adorably forward to see. Your friends soon join you, all cheering, while you find Fred in the small mass of people, admiring him as he laughs with the others. After a few moments, the team is finished talking, beginning to take flight and get into position. Once there, you watch as Fred’s eyes begin to scan the crowd, heart thumping as his gaze slowly draws closer, skipping a beat when they fall on you, and damn near stopping as he doubles back, face lifting 

You see, a few weeks ago you had met Fred to check over your final herbology assignment, which meant a late-night picnic waiting to see if your flower would bloom under the full moon. While chatting, the topic of today's game came up. Of course, now that Hufflepuff were out for the count, he teased you with who you would be supporting, his teasing backfired however when, without missing a beat, said you would be supporting whatever team he was playing in. 

After his slight fluster, which, to this day is one of your proudest achievements, conversation returned to normal, you figured he’s forgotten about it until a first year found you this morning holding a small bundle of Gryffindor scarves, one of which had a red ribbon around it with a note for you

You bring your hands up, hugging the scarf as your eyes meet, causing the biggest smile to take over his face. It was times like this you truly believed your crush was requited, and little did you know a certain redhead was thinking the same thing

“Be brave and go for it” Cedric whispers some encouragement 

He’s right, you think, Now or never

As you mouth him ‘Good luck’, you add a little extra to it, blowing him a kiss

His eyes widen in a pleasant shock, melting into a mix of joy and pride as he pretends to catch it, winking at you before kissing his balled up fist before returning his gaze to the field just before the starting whistle blows

“Way to go gal” Jess cheers, reaching over to give your arm a soft squeeze

“Aww the grew up so fast don’t they” Timothy wipes an imaginary tear from his eye while Cedric and Jess both match his energy, taking out handkerchiefs and pretending to be forlorn mothers, with Joey doing the same but with an imaginary tissue

You giggle at them, and while you would usually try to come up with some sort of witty answer, you instead break into a smile “He likes me” you say simply, swaying side to side

“If he didn’t, he’d be an idiot love” Cedric gives you a side hug while the rest of your friends’ smile, happy for you “Now let’s what your man kick snake butt”

“Hey-” Joey and Tim begin to object together but then shrug 

“Oh, who are we kiddin” Timothy laughs, taking off his green scarf and pulling out a red and gold one as does Joey “Pusey’s an arsehole and I want a chance to be a bridesman at your wedding someday”

“Bridesman?” you giggle, heartwarming at the idea of you and Fred getting married someday

“Yip, Ceds already called man of honour” 

The match was a whirlwind of emotion, the kind of game that left everyone on the edge of their seats. Gryffindor and Slytherin were neck and neck at every turn, every goal answered by another, and it was clear to everyone that this match would come down who would catch the snitch first

“Holy shit, this is intense!” James exclaims, practically bouncing in his seat “Merlin, how the hell did you guys watch me and Marls do this back in the day?”

“Jamie…language!” Lily scolds with a giggle, lips quirking up in amusement as she gives Dorcas a please forgive us look

“Oh, don’t worry, Lacey can’t hear a thing thanks to these” Dorcas it waves off, gesturing to Lacey’s adorable, enchanted earmuffs “Watch this” she says leaning over the little girl perched on her lap “You want some ice cream, bubs? What about a unicorn?” 

Lacey doesn’t react at all, instead she stays focused on mimicking her other mothers’ gestures and waves towards the pitch

“Those are…” Lily starts but is promptly cut off 

“What the hell was that!” Marlene huffs, throwing up her hands as the crowds roar once more, a mix of cheers and groans as the Slytherins risky manoeuvre pays off leading to another goal “Fucking Pusey again!”

“Did you get the earmuffs for the crowd or for Marls?” Remus whispers to Dorcas, who struggles to hold back a smile

“Oi! Gingers! Stay in formation! Godric, what are you doing?!” Marlene shouts again, shaking her head as Fred and George narrowly avoid colliding whilst going for the same bludger

“No comment” Dorcas replies with a grin before planting a kiss on Lacey’s cheek

The match grows increasingly heated after Harry lets the snitch slip through his grasp, igniting a fire under Slytherins asses causing their play to get even more aggressive

“This game is insane!” Cedric grips the railing so tightly his knuckles turn white

“Come on, Freddie!” you yell, unable to stop yourself as he whizzes by

You watch him turn ever so slightly, catching your voice over the roar before he dives back into the action, pulling off a spectacular move that has more than one person flushing

“Offt…your man’s a beast” Timothy mutters as Fred swoops in to deflect a bludger, shirt riding up a little as he does “What? I can admire” his cheeks tint as he sees all of your raised eyebrows

“Don’t worry” you say with a laugh, “He’ll never admit it, but he has a little guy crush on you too”

“Really?” 

“Really” you confirm, giggling 

“Did you see that?!” Sirius exclaims, pointing towards Fred after he executes a spectacular mid-air spin to block the Bludger aimed at Angelina “Can’t deny the boys got style!”

“Sure does” James agrees but then his expression sinks to a smug one as he adjusts his glasses “Almost as cool as some of the moves we pulled off ay Marls?” he tries to get her attention but is gifted a passive ‘uh huh’ instead

“Oh, please” Remus argues, chuckling “Are we forgetting in our final year when you tried to do a spin like that and your glasses came flying clean off?”

“What?!” Lily, Sirius, and Dorcas all turned to him in unison

“Moony!” James protests before his face slowly sinks as if awaiting his impending doom

“Wait…” Marlene turns slowly, looking menacingly down at James “You’re telling me. I almost lost my final match as captain because of your speckyless ass?”

James hesitates, his ears turning near crimson as he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck “…no comment”

With one final push, the final whistle blows, and the crowd erupts into cheers. You and your friends join in, your eyes look over towards Fred, who’s the first to get to Harry, pulling him into the biggest bear hug. The sight makes your heart warm, but your admiration is cut short as your friends practically pick you up, ushering you to move 

“What’s happening” you ask confused

“Come on, we gotta get down their sunshine” Timothy insists, shooing you along with Cedric, Jess and Joey “You’ve got a ginger to congratulate”

Over on the other stands your family celebrates. Everyone’s on their feet, except Lacey who is now glued to Marlene’s hip as they cheer 

“Yesssss!” James roars, pulling Lily into a celebratory hug…and subsequent snog 

“That’s my godson!” Sirius bellows, fist pumping the air before looking to hug James then realises “Oh…well if that’s what we’re doing, come here moons!” he hithers towards Remus, arms outstretched 

Remus laughs softly before indulging his husband, pulling him in for a kiss before dramatically dipping him

Meanwhile Marlene and little Lacey remain oblivious to the romance in the air, as she was too busy yelling so hard her voice will be lost come tomorrow “THAT’S MY LIONS!”

Dorcas just chuckles at the scene, pulling out Lilys camera and snapping a shot of them all (A/n: art of this bit in the future?)

As their celebrations calm down, they notice the teams beginning to land and everyone else begin to make their way down to join them

“This takes me back” Remus lets out a small laugh watching the red and gold scarfs fly around

Nostalgia fills the air as the others join him, gazing down

“Man…that used to be us” James remarks, letting out a breathy laugh before glancing over at Marlene

She nods, a happy yet bittersweet smile on her face “Yeah…good times” she reminisces before looking down at Lacey “Times are still pretty good…maybe better” she confesses watching her little cub cheer 

Dorcas joins her side, arm wrapping around both Marlene and Lacy as their foreheads meet

“I think we should give them their moment” Lily suggests “We have time to embarrass them later” she giggles

The group hums in agreement. As their stand empties, they begin pointing out things only they are privy to from their vantage point. Like Nevilles and Lunas intertwined hands as they weave through the crowd with Ginny, Lee sprinting to hug George, the Slytherin team sulks, or even Snape begrudgingly handing a couple of gallons to McGonagall. None of them, however, have managed to spot you or your friends yet. 

“I hope y/ns alright in the crowds” James says softly next to Lily

“As long as she’s with her friends I have no doubt shell be alright” she hums, giving your fathers arm a squeeze 

“Oh, there she is…” Sirius points you out before chuckling to himself “…maybe being your twin ain’t so bad” he jokes, wiggling his glasses 

James laughs, wrapping an arm around Sirius as everyone turns their attention back towards you 

Down on the pitch, it’s a flurry of red and gold, so you hold back at the edge where it was quieter, encouraging your friends to head into the chaos and enjoy it. Jess, Joey and Timothy promise to be right back, while Cedric spots Cho in the crowd little ways from yourself and joins her, being careful not to drift too far from you

You beam as you take a couple of steps back, watching Harry get lifted up by Ron and Neville. Much like your parents and family above, you want Harry and Fred to have their moment in the spotlight. There would be more than enough time to talk to them after

Unbeknownst to you, one of that duo was already looking for you. Fred’s eyes scan the chaos for your figure, but finds a familiar blonde in the crowd first, and he smiles watching him kiss Cho’s cheek. Cedric feels the eyes on them, looking up and noticing Fred’s searching expression. He smiles, giving a knowing nod towards you, as does Cho who’s clearly been filled in on the situation. 

Fred’s eyes follow the direction and there you are, standing apart from the rest, your gaze locked on Harry. Taking a deep breath, he hypes himself up, realising in that moment you aren’t just wearing his scarf, but the jumper he gave you to keep warm a few weeks ago as well. That along with the kiss you blew him earlier, are all the signs he needed to finally make a move

“Oi, Freddie” George calls as he moves away from the rest of the team “Where ya going?” George tries again but to no avail, Fred’s already gone, pushing through the crowd, using his broom to help manage the masses

As he breaks free, you do a double take, and he finds himself smiling as your confused expression melts into hope and joy

“You’re supposed to be over there” you tell him, taking a few steps forward as he closes the gap

“But you’re over here” he replies simply before leaning closer, eyes searching yours for permission 

You bite your lip, giving him a nod, to which his own smile grows and his broom is abandoned as his larger hands come up to cradle your cheeks guiding them up towards his lips as they crash into your own. You clutch the front of his sweater, pulling him closer but Fred being the showman he is had other ideas. His hands drop down, snaking around your hips before he dips you back. You squeal at first, then laugh softly with him before your lips reconnect. After that the rest of the world fades away. The cheers and buzz around you becoming a distant hum, neither of you reacting to your friends’ cheers nor the flash of Jess’ camera 

Your friends aren’t the only spectators of course…

“Wait…” Marlene points towards you and Fred “…is he about to…oh!” her mouth drops open, gently covering Lacey’s eyes while Dorcas smiles in a happy shock beside her 

Remus, Sirius, Lily are next to react, eyes widening, before breaking into smiles. Remus and Sirius take a moment longer, clearly doing the ‘does he deserve her’ math in their heads first

“That’s my girl” Lilys hands come up to face, overjoyed, she had an inkling you were a little love struck from your letters, she just didn’t know with who until now

“He’s alright” Sirius begrudgingly admits while Remus nods in agreement

Their smiles and shock soon melt into anticipation as they all slowly turn towards James, who had been a bit too quiet considering the situation. But when they see him, he is…beaming?

Turns out Lily wasn’t the only one with an incline, in fact, James being the girl dad he was, has known about every crush you’ve ever had, your one on Fred being no different. Safe to say, he was ecstatic

“Yes!” he cheers “Oh the dips a nice touch, very classy” he nods in approval before looking over at the others “What?” he takes in their shocked faces

“Prongs?” Remus eyes him “You realise that’s y/n, right?” he feels the need to check

“Yeah” James shrugs before his mouth makes an ‘oh’ shape, his reply sending them into fits of laughter “I’m supposed to be mad right now, aren’t I?”

Thank you for reading ♡

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Ghost Eater

Summary: You don't like exorcists. They don't much like you either.

-----

You’d always thought big restaurants like the Brownie Industry only did well in small, midwestern towns like the one you came from. A year working in LA has taught you that, no matter where you go, people will always love garlic bread and sugar.

It’s your day off which means you’re pulling a double shift. You haven’t had time to wash your hair for the past two weeks so it’s frizzing out of your claw clip and flying wild around your face. The lighting is so dim that you’ve tripped over two black purses already, luckily not while you’re running food. The big dining room sounds like an apiary with the tittering laughter of the later adult crowd that’s filtered in from the theater across the four lane road. The main difference between the Brownie Industry here and the one back home is size. The ceiling soars overhead, supported by a series of concrete pillars separating the dining area into three sections.

Normally it would be three servers per section. Today, it’s just you in yours.

One more hour. That’s what the manager promised you. It might even be true if the host stand quits seating you after the table you’re approaching.

There are three people at the table. A woman whose hair might be light blonde or gray in the light of day, her eyes light and piercing. Her face is soft from age, emphasized by the tight, lace collar of her off-season sweater. She reminds you strongly of your mom’s nemesis on the HOA board. The man couldn’t be more out of place next to her despite their equivalent age. He’s wearing a leather jacket – again, it’s not cold here – and a Norwegian metal shirt underneath. His hair is definitely white, so white it almost glows. He’s frowning at the teenager across the table as if she’s touched his motorcycle without permission.

The teenager might be the first you’ve seen all night who doesn’t have their phone out. She’s decked out in what you consider grandma florals – a t-shirt scattered with daisy chains, a bucket hat made out of nana’s carpet bag, and a hand-crocheted scarf in pastel.  You can’t really see her face under the shadow of her hat and there’s an odd, blurred quality to the way she fiddles with her napkin. You let your eyes skip past her and back to the two adults. Teenagers don’t pay the bill.

“Welcome to Brownie Industry!” you chirp. You’re sweaty and red but the faded yellow light hides that. You’re a service industry pro so none of your exhaustion shows on your face when you ask, “Is this your first-time dining with us?”

If you weren’t so burned out, you’d have noticed before you introduced yourself.

“Are you Grady?” the woman asks. Her voice is more posh than you expected even with her lace collar. “Grady Pace?”

Fuck. There’s a noticeable temperature differential now that you’re close to them. The restaurant is warm from the number of bodies, maybe even warmer than the summer air outside, but stepping up next to their table feels like walking into an ice rink.

“I’m your waitress,” you say. You don’t have time for this conversation. You’ve got five minutes in your cycle to take their order and then you’ve got food to run. “If you need any other services from me, I have a website.”

“We messaged you,” the man says. His lips thin to the point his thick mustache covers them entirely. “You never responded.”

Because you’ve been making more money at the Brownie Industry than your other job. “I’ll take a look at it tonight.”

“Wait,” the teenager says, sitting upright. She looks from you to the adults and back again. When she smiles, there’s no humor in it. “This is why we drove eight hours to have dinner at the Brownie Industry? For her?”

“Katie, be polite—”

“I’m sorry,” Katie says, “It’s just—I found a priest, you know? An actual exorcist priest and you guys want to trust a waitress over him?”

“Ugh exorcists,” you say. The memory of sour cabbage is so heavy on your tongue that you stick your tongue out in disgust. When you see Katie’s look, you backtrack. “Effective! Definitely effective.”

“Your mistakes have cost us too much already,” the man says, shaking a finger at her. “We are not converting just for an exorcism.”

“I normally don’t agree with your father,” the woman tells Katie, “but in this case I would like to leave conversion as a last resort.”

“We wouldn’t actually convert,” Katie says, rolling her eyes.

“Pretty sure exorcists can tell when you lie,” you tell Katie. When her scowl deepens, you clear your throat. “Did you all need another minute to think about the menu?”

“We need you to help us,” the dad says. He scrubs a hand over his face. “Look, I know you’re at work and I’m sorry we’re bothering you.”

“We’re desperate,” the mom says. She reaches for her purse. “We’ll pay you. Triple the rate on your website or even quadruple. We need that thing gone by tonight.”

Katie covers her face. “Mom. You’re embarrassing me. Terry isn’t that bad.”

“Oh, he’s bad, young lady,” the dad says sternly. “A bad influence.”

“We caught her trying to perform another séance yesterday,” the mom confesses to you. She leans forward with a pinched expression. “So Terry’s friend Larry could visit too.”

“Interesting,” you say. The food bell rings, but you think you can ignore it for another minute. You study Katie’s blush. “Why did you do that?”

If she was being compelled, she won’t have an answer to your question. You’ve dealt with a lot of ghosts in your time, but so few are sentient enough – or powerful enough – for compulsion.

“Go on,” the dad says, gesturing at you. “Tell her.”

“Leroy, she’s embarrassed enough,” the mom says.

“No, she’s not, Sarah.” The dad – Leroy – gestures to you again. “Tell her.”

Katie huffs, clearly resistant. But when her dad huffs back, she caves. “So,” she says, “I have this YouTube channel—”

“I’m off in an hour,” you interrupt. You don’t care that you’re being rude. Your patience ran out as soon as she said YouTube. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.” You turn to go.

“A moment!” Sarah shakes out her menu. “How’s the nicoise salad?”

Of course they’re going to order. They’d better tip too if they want you to help them with their ghost problem.

----.

“You said an hour,” mom Sarah says when you leave out the employee entrance. She’s shivering next to her daughter. Leroy is off smoking behind his motorcycle, parked next to the Tesla Katie is leaning on, but he stubs out his cigarette on the asphalt when you walk up. “It’s been two.”

“I had side work,” you say instead of it would have been one if not for you. You rub your bare arms when the familiar ghost chill washes over you. You want nothing more than to go home and wash the scent of garlic and brownie batter out of your hair. “Was there something wrong with my service?”

“No?”

You try to make your voice light. “I see.”

Sarah frowns at your tone anyway. “Why?”

“You tipped five dollars.”

Katie jolts like a scalded cat. “Mom!”

Leroy scrubs a hand over his face. “Sarah…”

“What?” Sarah throws up her hands. The parking lot lights catch on her Swarovski charm bracelet. “I tipped!”

“Like ten percent,” Katie says. She pulls her bucket hat over her eyes for a beat and then peeks at you from under it. “I’m so sorry. It’s not you, she’s always like this.”

“It was actually a six percent tip,” you say. You’re getting a clearer picture of this little family now. It’s becoming more and more understandable why Katie might have started summoning ghosts. “If you want to be precise.”

Leroy reaches for his back pocket. “Let me.”

Sarah swats at his hand. “We’re about to pay her a lot more than that!”

“For a completely separate job,” Leroy says. He pulls a twenty from his wallet and hands it to you with a grimace. “Sorry, Grady, I should’ve checked.”

“You should’ve paid if you cared so much,” Sarah retorts. She folds her arms over her chest. She taps her cheek and widens her eyes. “Oh wait… you never pay.”

“Sure,” Leroy says. This time it’s his turn to throw his hands in the air. “Sure, Sarah. I don’t pay for anything to do with our daughter’s private school or her dance classes or her health insurance—”

“If the court hadn’t mandated—”

“You make twice as much as me—"

“Guys!” Katie says loudly. Her mouth is a thin line of upset when she says, “Argue about what an expensive burden I am later when we don’t have an audience, okay?”

Her parents speak at the same time.

“You’re twisting my words,” Sarah says. “I never said—"

“Sweetie, you’re not a burden—”

“Can you just get this ghost out of me?” Katie asks you. She goes for nonchalance and falls short. “My parents haven’t been in the same room for the last five years for a reason.” She fakes whispering. “They don’t play nicely with others.”

Sarah bristles. “Katie.”

“God, I know how that is,” you say. The whole interaction is giving you the worst case of sympathy for Katie. Before her parents can say anything else, you change the subject. “How long have you been haunted?”

“Six months,” Katie says. She fiddles with her bucket hat so that you can see her eyes for the first time. They’re brown, like her dad’s, and have heavy bruises underneath. She shrugs. “They only noticed a month ago though.”

“I noticed your behavior had changed,” Sarah defends. Like her daughter, she fidgets. She plays with her bracelet and clears her throat. “I thought it was a teenage thing.”

“What signs did you notice first?” you ask the parents. They glance at each other and then away.

“Let’s just say we noticed different things,” Leroy says dryly. He pulls out his phone.

“Moodiness,” Sarah says. She ticks them off on her fingers. “Laziness. Disrespect. Over-sleeping.”

“Those are just teenager things,” Katie says with an astounding level of self awareness. She shrugs. “I’m a senior now. They’re lucky it didn’t start sooner.”

“I,” Leroy says, “noticed this.” He turns his phone towards you.

“Ah,” Sarah says, “Yes. That.”

You examine the picture. It’s of Katie on a small dirt bike. She’s wearing a helmet in the picture, but you recognize the fashion sense in the floral boots she’s wearing. The scene behind her is of the hills, low scrub brush recognizable to someone who’s lived in LA for the past five years. On the bike behind her is a smudge. It could be a cloud of dirt blown into frame or maybe a camera glitch. It could be if it weren’t for the leering face emerging from the cloud right behind her head.

“I just want to say I did not agree to getting her a motorcycle,” Sarah says.

“Mom, not the point,” Katie says.

“Look how close that creep is to my daughter,” Leroy says. He jabs a finger at Katie’s waist in the photo where you can see a ghostly hand. “I want him gone.”

“Dad, he didn’t mean anything by it!” Katie turns to you earnestly. “Terry never rode a bike before and I thought, like, what if he moved on after he got a chance to? It was a philanthropic effort!”

“Plant a tree if you want to be a philanthropist,” Leroy growls. “I want this guy away from my daughter.”

“He doesn’t mean any harm really,” Katie says. “He would move on if he could! He says he’s stuck to me because of how I summoned him. He’s like, really sorry. He even spelled out Sorry in the bathroom mirror once.”

“What,” Sarah says in a dangerous voice, “was Terry doing in the bathroom with you, Katie?”

Katie splutters. “Mom, don’t be gross!”

The family descends into bickering. You have heard about ghosts being stuck to a person before, but usually that’s when the person has some sort of psychic powers. Katie’s wearing crystal in her ears, but they aren’t charged. She might develop some talent later in life, but right now she’s a normal girl.

The parking lost is nearly empty now. You recognize a few employee cars, but very few customers. The kitchen will be cleaning for another half hour before they’re ready to go home.  The reality is that, if Terry is stuck, you might not be the best way to handle the situation. If he’s not…

Well.

It’s time to talk to Terry.

Opening your ghost sense is hard to describe. Some psychics liken it to a third eye, right in the middle of their forehead. You’ve always thought that sounded really cool like maybe the world gets cast in a blue hue when they do it and the dead appear like they do in movies. You’ve met other psychics who say it’s like a sixth sense. They know where the ghost is and it’s like they download all that information until their minds can just sort of conjure their image.

For you, it’s like letting your body remember it has a second mouth. Cats have an extra sensory organ on the roof of their mouth that lets them detect scents better. Your second mouth is a bit like that. You can still smell brownies and garlic and the city air of LA, but you can also smell/taste something else.

Something like…pepper?

Your eyes water and you sneeze so viciously that your eyes close. When you open them again, four people are staring at you in surprise.

“Gesundheit,” Leroy says.

“You sneeze like Dad does,” Katie says.

“Did no one ever teach you to cover your mouth?” Sarah asks in disgust.

“I wish you would’ve sneezed on her,” Terry says, nodding to Sarah. “She’s such a bitch.”

“Thank you for the commentary, everyone,” you say. You wipe your nose with the collar of your shirt as you consider Terry. It’s dirty anyway. “Terry. Interesting name for a ghost.”

Terry hasn’t noticed that you can see him yet. He’s floating behind Katie, one arm casually flung over her shoulder. It’s hard to place when he died based on his appearance alone. His hair is chin length, emphasizing the width of his jaw. Squire cuts have been popular for several decades and the bowling shirt he’s wearing could either be a modern fashion statement or a dated uniform. He looks to be in his mid-twenties, sun-kissed and with the air of someone who tells a lot of jokes at the expense of others. His arm around Katie strikes you as possessive, the glare he gives her parents venomous.

“I didn’t name him,” Katie says. “He said it’s short of Torrance.”

You blink. “Wouldn’t he be Torri then?”

“That’s a girl’s name,” Katie and Terry say at the same time. Their cadence is so close that it actually sounds like Terry’s baritone comes out of Katie’s mouth. For a moment, his arm flickers, clipping into her shoulder like a bad animation. When it does, Terry’s form grows brighter, more solid. Then Katie shivers and he’s forced out of her.

You and Terry click your tongues at the same time.

You remember how Katie’s hands seemed to blur at the dinner table. Terry’s not just haunting Katie. He’s trying to possess her. You wonder if that’s why Katie looked up an exorcist rather than a simple spiritual cleansing. Did she know how much danger she was in?

“Okay,” you say. You tear your attention away from Katie and Terry for a moment. Business first. “Sarah. Leroy. Who was it that found my site?”

“I did,” Sarah says. She raises her chin when you can’t hide your surprise. “When Katie was looking up exorcists—”

“She didn’t mean it,” Terry says. He pats Katie’s hat. “Right?”

“—I looked up alternative solutions,” Sarah says, not having heard Terry. Her confidence falters for a moment and she rubs her arm. “I have had some… negative experiences with exorcisms. I don’t want my daughter to go through that.”

Katie’s head whips towards her mother. “What? I didn’t know that.”

“It was a long time ago,” Leroy says. For the first time, he reaches out and hugs Sarah with one arm. You don’t know what surprises you more; Leroy hugging Sarah or Sarah leaning into his side. “When Sarah told me, we decided to put our differences aside. I vetted you through some of my contacts and they all agreed you’d be a safe bet.”

“I am,” you say. You’re not bragging either. You’re probably the safest bet in half the western states besides your older sister. “There are some…peculiarities in my method.”

“Charlatan,” Terry whispers in Katie’s ear. He’s grinning now. “Only charlatans are that confident. Look! She can’t even see me!”

Katie looks doubtful.

Usually, you’d try to talk to Terry at this point. Sometimes spirits can be negotiated with. They can be encouraged to move on or to take on a less aggressive form of haunting. Those that are truly stuck can be helped with the right sort of ritual work. But the way Terry’s affecting Katie’s mood and that fucking arm around her shoulders…

You don’t really want to talk to Terry.

“We can ask Terry to move on,” you tell the family.

“Nooooooo,” Terry says and flips you off. “Pass!”

“Sometimes spirits don’t realize how deeply they’re affecting their hosts,” you say.

“You don’t even know how deep I’m about to be,” Terry jeers at you.

“Many ghosts are confused when they’re called to interact with the living,” you say. “It can blur their understanding of death and, as a result, they cling to life. If they stick around long enough, their presence will affect the living like what’s happening to Katie. It’s not always malicious. It can be a symptom of that confusion.”

“Katie, tell her to piss off,” Terry hisses in the teen’s ear. “I’m not confused, I’m bored.” His voice deepens. “Tell her we don’t need her help. Tell her we’re going home.”

Katie opens her mouth robotically. “That’s…” Her brow creases as she tries to figure out what she was going to say. “It seems like we don’t need help then. Terry will move on when he’s ready, like I thought.”

“We aren’t paying you for a ghost therapy session,” Sarah snaps. It’s only because you’re really focusing that you can see the unease under her anger. She’s noticed something wrong with Katie. “Katie, Terry is going away today.”

“Fuck you,” Terry says.

“Fuck you,” Katie says.

Leroy’s head rears back. “Katie, you don’t use that language with your mother!”

“Fuck you too,” Katie and Terry say. The parking lot lights flicker.

“No, fuck you, Terry,” you say, stepping between Katie and her parents. Leroy starts like he’s going to pull you out of the way, but he doesn’t.

“Terry?” Leroy asks. He looks scared. “Terry said that? Is Terry possessing my daughter?”

“Not yet.” You eye Terry’s arm and the way his fingers are sinking into Katie’s arm.

“Oh fuck,” Terry says. He doesn’t look scared. Not yet. Instead, he grins. “You can see me.”

“Not every ghost is malicious,” you tell the parents without taking your eyes off Terry. “But some are.”

“I’m not malicious.” Terry runs a hand through his hair, still grinning. The parking lot lights flicker overhead again. “I care about Katie a lot.”

“Terry’s never hurt me,” Katie says.

You ignore her. She’s not even shaking Terry off now. Her gaze is dull on your face when you say, “I don’t mean to sound like I’m some sort of ghost therapist. However, it’s important to differentiate between malicious and non-malicious hauntings in my practice. My methods are unconventional and, if used indiscriminately, I can get in a lot of trouble.”

“We won’t tell anyone,” Leroy says. He steps into your periphery. His gaze flicks from you to the spot you’re staring at over Katie’s shoulder. “We want Terry gone.”

“Not a soul,” Sarah promises. She comes up on your other side. “Please help our daughter.”

“Terry,” you say. Your second mouth is yawning wide somewhere in the back of your brain. The taste of pepper isn’t as overwhelming now. “Last chance. Renounce your claim on Katie’s soul and slither back into whatever hole you came out of.”

“We’re soulmates,” Terry says. He bares his teeth at you. “Go on, Charlatan. Call on your God to banish me. I’ve been around for decades and no exorcist has ever been able to put a scratch on me. And when they manage to push me out?” He laughs and the temperature drops another ten degrees. An unholy light flickers in his eyes. “I just come right back.”

“Then I guess I won’t feel guilty,” you say.

“Guilty?” Katie asks.

You walk forward two steps and grab Terry’s face. Terry’s skin is soft and jelly-like. His facial bones undulate like rubber under your grip. “Hi, Terry.”

Now Terry’s afraid. “What the fuck, you can touch—?”

“Bye, Terry.” You drag him towards you. His fingers pop out of Katie’s arm with a wet sucking sound, and he claws at your wrist.

“Wait! Waitwaitwaitwait--”

You eat Terry.

People come from all around to eat at the Brownie Industry. They love the density of the desserts and the heaps of garlic spread over home-baked (shipped frozen) rolls. It’s a treat to know you’re always going to enjoy the meal even if you’re far from home or eating at the same location a hundred times. It’s consistency, sugar and butter. An easy addiction to have.

Eating ghosts is like that for you. They fizz in your second mouth like champagne and melt like fudge. It’s hard to describe and the ephemeral quality of it sends shivers down your spine. Somewhere Terry is screaming in anguish, maybe crying. You think that the family you’re helping is screaming something too, but the sensation of eating is so consuming you can’t hear the words.

Terry is younger than other ghosts you’ve eaten. He doesn’t have the depth of flavor you’d once been addicted to back in Illinois. The best ghost you’ve ever eaten had been like a six-course meal with all the centuries she’d been carrying. In comparison, Terry is like a bag of pepper chips. Interesting, but gone in a moment. Still, he hits the spot.

When you’re done, you burp a purple cloud of ectoplasm into the still night air.

Leroy is the first to speak. His eyes are so wide you can see the whites all around them. “Pay her, Sarah,” he says breathlessly. His hands shake as he reaches for Katie, steadying her on her feet. “Now.”

You smack your lips and graciously accept the wad of cash Sarah hands you. You raise your eyebrows. “This is more than three times my rate.”

“Consider it a tip,” Sarah says. She’s more composed than Leroy, but still pale. She studies you. “That was…revolting.”

“You didn’t have to watch,” you say. You put your money away and then perk up at a sudden thought. “Hey, if you can, can you leave me a review on my site?”

“I thought you didn’t want us to tell anyone?”

You wave your hand. “Secrets are bad for business. Besides, Terry deserved it. I’m sure they’ll understand if you write that in your review.”

“They…?”

You smile and don’t answer.

The family don’t ask many more questions after that. The parents promise to leave a review and Katie just stares at you as if concussed. You assure the parents that she’ll be back to normal as soon as the soul-shock wears off. 

“And if it doesn’t?” Sarah asks.

“Message me,” you say.

“You don’t check your messages,” Leroy says.

“Oh,” you say, patting your stomach, “I’ll be checking them a lot more often now.”

You’re hungry again.

---

(Patreon)

[neoplatinum]

no one noticed - the marias | minari 'mina' myoui'

summary: per request: can I request a mina drabble that she and the reader were fwb but they suddenly had conflicts so this resulted in them not seeing each other anymore not until they bumped into each other? angst ending or happy ending, however you want! (and to answer: angst)

pairing: mina x reader

themes: angst, friends with benefits, school, bakery

wc: 1.3k

--

no one loves you like i can, at least i think they can’t. the way i admire every thing about you. the way you hold onto your left sleeve when you receive a compliment. the smile you give only to me when i treat you to your favorite ice cream flavor. the way you slip your gentle fingers onto my own. the light scent of fruit on your fingertips from cutting fruit. to the way you cradle my jaw like you discovered gold. but in between all these small moments is the reality that no one could know of this existence between us.

i wonder how you see me? do you notice how i bite my lip every time you leave without giving me a kiss on the check? or when i stare at you shouting ‘i love you’ with my eyes. i don’t understand why you always look away after three blinks. always to the left and staring at your shoes.

no one loves you like i can, at least i think they can’t. there was a day where you stood me up for coffee, a simple date i proposed after months of hiding from everyone. a discreet cafe an hour away from school, and everyone that we could’ve run into. especially those snobby girls you hang around. 

i took three buses and almost got ran over by some loud teenager revving through the streets with their m3. with an origami flower in my pocket and earbuds listening to the marias. i stare at the street, smells of the bakery invading my senses and leaving a scent on my jacket. i pick at the scab that’s been forming on my thumb. 

you never showed up.

i don’t hear about you for days, you’ve practically fell off the face of the earth. i don’t know where you are, you never show up to school. i roam the street that we used to walk, jokes we shared that were special to us only. i think about the pink and white bows you wear in your hair. with a missing fake jewel on the white one. i scan the world as if you’ll manifest in my view. 

i drove by your neighborhood, too scared to actually find out if you’re there. just circles around where you live. i stare at every car that’s dark red, even if it’s not the same build of car. it keeps you alive in my mind. i think of you as the seasons change, when it’s colder, i think of how you tend to catch colds and stick yourself into your scarf. the one that i bought for you when you first got sick. 

no one else loves you the way that i do, they don’t know your insecurities swell when it’s the winter time. how you feel lethargic and are unwilling to try and get yourself out the house. so i stare at your neighborhood and will you to show yourself. but i know better, i know what we had wouldn’t warrant me getting a response from you. 

all we were and all we’ll ever be are two kids with too much self-absorption that manifested us in two different ways. i yearn for you, to see your face and i dream of the life that we can have. but you? do you love me in the way no one else can? i don’t believe that you do. 

you left like a wisp of smoke, and i don’t i can see it anymore. there’s those red bows in the corner that i wanted to get for you for valentine’s day. even if we didn’t make it then, even if you stomped me out and told me that we’re just hook up buddies. even if you lay on my chest and cry to me about how small you feel in this world. i could never hate you, my love. 

in fact, i think i love everything you hate about yourself, the way you’re so unsure of your talents or your inabilities. i think it makes you all the more humans, filled with overthought of not being enough, i think you are everything and more. i like the bangs that you think are uneven, i like how your pink juts out when you drink from a small cup. i like the laughter of your voice, even when you let out a snort, i think it makes me love you even more. more than anyone else can. 

and then the scene fades, with anything else in life, our memories dull. i stop remembering how you sound, the way you say my name, the way you feel under me. i forget all about it, i forget how embedded in my life you were. even if we weren’t labeled, i loved you all the same.

and just like every other day i take the 8am bus off to the bakery where we were last supposed to meet. i take exactly 54 steps from the bus stop into the bakery, hear the bell jingle when i open the door. and then it’s like you never left. as if the period of yearning for you completely dissipated. 

you sit in the middle of the bench, your favorite spot, with your favorite drink and pastry in hand. and you look up at me. like i didn’t spend three months searching for you. you stare at me, and you put your drink and pastry down. no one else noticed. no one else noticed the way you pan your eyes over me like you always do, and suddenly i’m reminded of how you always liked when i wore green. which i’m wearing today.

“hi, come sit.” you gesture to the seat direct from yours. and i sit, like your dog i do. you brush your hair back behind your ears twice. all i can hear is the roaring of blood in my body, thumping in my ears and chest. and i cross my legs, staring at you in your light pink outfit. it’s spring again, the season where we first began our rendezvous. 

“i knew you’d be here.” you say quietly, the nervousness in your voice emanating. you seems just as shaken, just a tad less than me. 

“how did you know” taking a little too long to respond. unraveling the thoughts that scramble my brain. 

“i just knew.”

i stare at her hands, she’s painted her nails pastel yellow, just like how they were the first time she kissed me.

i nod.

“i’m sorry for not telling you, but i moved away.” a whisper as if it mends all the open wounds in my heart. 

i nod.

“but i knew i couldn’t just leave without saying anything, so i came back to give you this.” i finally look up, processing her words. seeing her reach into her bag and grab a red and white envelope. i notice the darker under eyes, the way she still slouches and the white bow with the missing fake jewel on her hair. “please read it when you get the chance. it expresses everything i feel about you.”

you stand up, and i feel my heart thumping in my chest again. you lean down, giving the faintest of a kiss. a reminder of what was between us.

months have gone by and all you have to give me is a letter? a stupid letter?

you wave as you exit the bakery and offer me a sweet smile.

i nod.

and just like that you vanishes, like how you once did.

but i don’t chase after you, i know i don’t need to. nor do i want to.

no one loves you like i can because you never let anyone love you to that point. i flew too close to the sun and i had to be shot back down to earth.

--

a/n: ah yes yearning, slowly trying to get back my spark of writing and angst is fueling that fire. i wrote this on a whim so i did not proofread this at all LOL completely forgot about this request. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[gotta-get-back-to-hatchetfield]

Help! I loved Nerdy Prudes Must Die and am curious about Nightmare Time but don't really have time to commit to watching it all... (a handy guide)

For those of you who don't know Nightmare Time was a series of Hatchetfield one shots that starkid wrote and recorded during lockdown, all of which are of course available for free on YouTube. They go a lot deeper into the lore than the 3 Hatchetfield musicals, including explaining and explore the characters we know and love in more detail, sometimes including shocking revelations.

They also introduce new characters to the Hatchetfield universe, including Stephanie Lauter, Grace Chasity and Pete Spankoffski, who we first met in a Nightmare Time episode.

As they were filmed in lockdown the recording quality is somewhat variable, but Season 2 has a much higher production value than Season 1, and in Season 1 Episode 1 in particular they were very clearly trying to find their feet with it. That being said the actual scripts and content of the episodes is solid throughout.

I've decided to put together this handy guide of which Nightmare Time episodes people might want to check out if they want to learn more about certain things we saw in NPMD.

1) Nibbly - Honey Queen (season 2 episode 1)

If you're curious to learn more about the Lords in Black each of them (bar Wiggly) have an episode of Nightmare Time devoted to them.

For Nibbly, Wiggly's hungriest and pinkest brother that episode is 'Honey Queen' in Season 2 Episode 1.

It explores a very entertaining rivalry between Linda Monroe (from Black Friday) and Zoey (the annoying barista from Beanie's in TGWDLM) that naturally turns very very dark. We also get to meet Linda's husband Gerald who she spends most of Black Friday on the phone to.

As a heads up Nibbly doesn't appear until, shall we say, the end of the episode (with Hatchetfield there's always a twist) and he's not in the super sexy form from NPMD but it's a very strong episode and does give a bit of background to Nibbly's deal.

2) Tinky - Time Bastard (season 1 episode 2 part 2)

If you're curious to learn more about this yellow motherfucker played by Curt then you're in luck because he's in my personal favourite episode and one with a lot of interesting lore surrounding it.

If you're curious about what he means when in NPMD he says 'I could add another Spankoffski to my set', Time Bastard is focused around Pete's brother Ted (from TGWDLM) and the dodgy dealings of CCRP.

It's an extremely clever episode, with lots of really fun twists. It's unfortunately season 1 so has slightly lower production quality, but in terms of raw scripting is just outstanding and has some really interesting reveals about people in the Hatchetfield universe who may not be who we think they are...

Also worth noting that this is in the same episode (Youtube video) as a different Nightmare Time episode 'Forever and Always'. Most episodes work like this where you have two different stories per episode, they absolutely can be watched independently but usually have some sort of thematic link (in this case it's the things we do for love and how they will inevitably be thwarted by CCRP being sketch).

3) Blinky - Watcher World (season 1 episode 1 part 2)

And if you're curious about the one who's always watching you, he's actually the first Lord in Black we meet through Nightmare Time, in the very first episode when Bill and Alice Woodward (TGWDLM) go on an ill fated trip to a spooky theme park.

Again this is from the first episode so production quality is low but it's a really solid episode and a very interesting look into these characters.

While this is our first meeting of a lord in black in Nightmare Time, I don't believe he's actually referred to as such, and the concept of the Lords in Blacks being introduced as Wiggly's brothers comes in at point 5 on this list.

4) Pokey - Yellow Jacket (season 2 episode 4)

You've already met Pokey through TGWDLM (yep that was his blue shit that destroyed the world!), but you won't truly realise how fucking scary he is until you meet his incarnation 'Otho' in Yellow Jacket.

A solid episode exploring Lex, Hannah and Ethan in a lot more detail, and in a world and lives where (at least at the start of the episode) things seem to be a lot more stable for them than in Black Friday.

And yeh as I've already mentioned Pokey is fucking s c a r y in it. Also you remember James Tolbert's character, Charles that gets a little cameo in Hatchetown? Well he's the main human antagonist of this episode!

We also learn a lot of lore about 'the gift', the thing that makes Hannah able to do magic.

5) The concept of the Lords in Black generally - The Witch in the Web (season 2 episode 3 part 2)

If you're curious about why everyone's been posting pictures of those evil teddy bears and now even more confused that you've met them all as fucked up high school students, the Witch in the Web is the episode where we're first introduced to the 'they don't care bears' as a set.

This is a really cool episode, again about Lex and Hannah, but it also exploring Uncle Wiley (from Black Friday) in a lot more detail.

We also first meet two characters called Duke and Miss Holloway who together form the ship Holloduke that if you were following any of Starkid tumblr during lockdown you will definitely have heard of. They're really cool!

Here we also meet Webby, Hannah's imaginary friend in Black Friday, who turns out to be the lord in black's sister: a queen in white. And she's dope.

6) Pete Spankoffski, Stephanie Lauter and Grace Chasity - Abstinence Camp (season 2 episode 2 part 2)

We first meet the now beloved characters of Pete and Steph and the slightly less beloved character of Grace in an evangelical abstinence only camp. The episode centers entirely around these characters and plays excellently with tropes of the horror genre.

It also has the best song in all of Nightmare Time and it's up to you to decide if I'm talking about 'oh my god it's the axe-man' or 'virginity rocks' (it's both, the answer is both).

That's pretty much it in terms of Nightmare Time episodes that cover things from NPMD, but in case you're curious here's a quick run down of what the rest are about:

The Hatchetfield Ape Man - season 1 episode 1 part 1. Hidgens makes Ted pretend to be a Tarzan style half monkey, half man thing to con Angela Giarratanna out of her inheretence.

Watcher World - season 1 episode 1 part 2. See bullet 3 above. Alice and Bill Woodward go to a theme park and shit hits the fan.

Forever and Always - season 2 episode 2 part 1. Paul and Emma get married. Things are not as they seem (there are robots). One of my personal favourites.

Time Bastard - season 2 episode 2 part 2. See bullet 2 above. Ted fucks with time travel and things end very badly for him. Best episode imo.

Jane's a Car - season 2 episode 3 part 1. Turns out the soul of Tom Houston's ex-wife Jane, who died in a car crash, transferred into the car. This somewhat complicates his budding relationship with Becky Barnes.

The Witch in the Web - season 2 episode 3 part 2. See bullet 5 above. Hannah Foster's having nightmares and somehow a witch and Uncle Wiley are involved. Luckily a good witch (Miss Holloway) is there to try and help.

Honey Queen - season 2 episode 1. See bullet 1 above. Linda Monroe and Zoey Chambers compete to win the Hatchetfield honey queen beauty pageant and things spiral wildly out of control. My personal favourite episode from season 2.

Perky's Buds - season 2 episode 2 part 1. Emma's finally achieved her dream of owning her own pot farm. Just her, her non-binary farm hand Ziggs and some very evil birds.

Abstinence Camp - season 2 episode 2 part 2. See bullet 6 above. Pete, Steph and Grace go to a retreat in the very creepy woods to learn one way or another about the perils of pre-marital sex.

Daddy - season 2 episode 3 part 1. Remember Sherman Young (Jamie's weird creepy guy from Black Friday)? Turns out there's something very weird going on with his mum. We also learn a lot about Frank Pricely (owner of toyzone from Black Friday) in this episode, who turns out to be a very interesting character.

Killer Track - season 2 episode 3 part 2. Miss Holloway must take extreme action to save a young girl and then the whole world against an evil song that kills anyone who listens to it. We learn a lot more about Holloway as a character and she is soooo cool. Another favourite episode of mine.

Yellow Jacket - season 2 episode 4. See bullet point 4. Hannah seeing her sister struggling to provide for them financially decides to find a way of using her power to earn some spare cash.

Hey Melissa - episode aired only on a livestream, type it into youtube and it'll come up. If you've ever found yourself asking 'what if Mariah's secretary character from the start of TGWDLM was really into dom pup play and Paul Matthews was her little pup bitch and she was also a horrific out of control serial killer?' then a) are you Matt Lang because if not I'm concerned? and b) by god this is the episode for you!. I personally really enjoy it I think it's super funny, but obviously heavy trigger warnings for abuse and sexual content warnings (there's a reason they didn't put this in the real series). Fucking excellent tho.

[disneyprincemuke]

the living situation * fem!driver

living with the opposite gender should be more complicated than it is, but when you've been best friends your entire life, it isn't even that weird. right?

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver

notes: um, we move forward with the logan x femdriver storyline in the og universe HELL YEAH anyway this is all still in 2023 ok! have a good day everybody!

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

she presses her lips together, stumbling slightly as she tries to peel the heels off her legs. she tilts her head to try and get a look inside her apartment to assess if logan is still awake.

when she's sure that the living room is completely empty, she puts her shoes on the shoe rack and starts walking in. she's looking down at her phone, sending lily a quick text about how another one of her dates simply blew.

she sighs when she enters the living room. she drops herself on the couch and throws her phone next to her when she sends the text message. she throws her head back on the backrest and looks up at the ceiling.

"stupid," she mutters to herself, shaking her head. "what makes you think you'd ever be able to date anybody normally?"

she flinches when she hears a door open, jumping up when it opens and logan walks out. "oh." he raises his eyebrows at the sight of her, standing still where he is with a mug in his hand. "home so soon? i wasn't expecting you until midnight at best."

"yeah, i cut the date short," she smiles tiredly. she moves to the side when logan approaches her and occupies the empty spot. "he had too much to say about my participation in f1."

"he's a dick. i'm sorry," logan says. "are you okay?"

she shrugs. "maybe i'm just not supposed to date anybody at all. maybe i should just be alone."

"don't say that," logan laughs, poking her shoulder. "90 per cent of guys are weird. trust that you'll find the right guy for you."

she shrugs again. she turns to him, barely being able to make out his features in the darkness of their apartment. she could some how imagine the small smile he's giving her and the way his green eyes are empathetically looking at her. "i don't know. i think i'll just be a cat lady."

"i'll go and fetch the moët," logan giggles, somehow finding her knee to pat. his touch lingers a second longer than she expects, her heart suddenly skipping a quick beat in her chest, and he pushes himself up and walks to the kitchen.

she shakes her head as she pulls her jacket off her shoulders. this tingling that she feels in her chest at his touch is just a result of another failed date. there is nothing more to it.

and, if you spend this much time around your best friend and roommate, it's probably normal to fantasize about dating them sometimes, right? right?

or, at least that's what she tells herself when she finds herself laying in her bed alone during nights she can't seem to get some sleep. sometimes she thinks about grabbing her stuffed animal and knocking on logan's bedroom door to find some solace.

but would it even be worth it?

logan opens the door quietly, glancing over his shoulder to smile at the girl out in the hallway. he holds the door with his body and moves aside to let her in.

"um, just," he whispers, staring at the ground, "take off your shoes here. my roommate's very particular about shoes inside the apartment."

he tilts his head and tries to look further into the apartment, unsure if it's a good time to even be bringing his date back home. surely, she would be asleep, right? it's 3 in the morning.

he keeps his hand on his date's shoulder as he navigates further into the apartment. he quickly scoops stubby into his arms when he approaches, not wanting to draw attention to himself. and knowing her, she would try to make a friend out of his date and he would objectively lose another date to her.

but he is mildly confused when he approaches the living room, slightly illuminated by the tv. he moves his attention to the couch and sighs when she's curled up into a ball, a blanket loosely hanging over her feet and a stuffed animal in her arms.

"this one's my room," he whispers, opening the door to his bedroom. "do you want a glass of water? any snacks?"

the girl smiles, shaking her jacket off. he switches on the lights. "maybe a glass of water, please. thank you."

"alright, i'll be back. this is stubby." he bends down and puts the corgi on the ground, smiling when he accompanies the girl who is walking over to his bed. "give me a minute, okay?"

she smiles at him as he closes the door, briefly watching her interact with stubby. he turns back to the tv and sighs softly, quietly padding around the living room to get to her on the couch. he drops himself into a kneel and grabs her shoulder, shaking her as gently as possible so as not to startle her.

"yeah, i'm watching bluey, but it's not weird," she says under her breath, sitting up quickly. she tilts her head. "oh, you're home. how was your date?"

"she's in my bedroom. are you okay? you fell asleep on the couch," logan smiles, moving back slightly. "and bluey? seriously?"

"i'm educating myself on how to be the parent i'll never be," she shrugs, gesturing towards the tv. "why are you here with me when your date's inside the room?"

"you should get some rest where it's comfortable," he sighs, pushing himself up to stand. "the couch isn't good for your back. or your neck. or your arms, with the way you were positioned earlier."

"wow, who crowned you ruler of the couch surfers?" she jokes, standing up and gathering her items from the couch. she smiles as logan leaves her to walk into the kitchen. folding her blankets over her chest and grabbing her stuffed toy from the couch, she then walks to her bedroom door as logan approaches his. "do you need me to take stubby?"

"no, uh," logan presses his lips together, "i'm not sleeping with her. she's really great. i think i'll take it slow."

a small smile spreads her lips. she releases a heavy breath and takes a step away from logan. admittedly, it does slightly sting that he's suddenly connecting emotionally with someone who's not her. but they're just friends, after all.

"oh, that's great," she whispers. "i'll make pancakes for breakfast - if she's still around."

"goodnight," logan smiles before disappearing into his bedroom. "rest well, dude."

she stares at logan's bedroom door for a moment. perhaps the crush she thought she got over three years ago never went away, because why did her chest feel fuzzy at the thought of logan getting serious with someone else?

she pushes her hair behind her ear and she opens her bedroom door. she wouldn't get sleep that night, completely distracted by the conversation and giggles that would occasionally get too loud in the bedroom next to her.

"come off it," is the first thing that logan hears when he wakes up from his nap. at the foot of his bed, stubby is curled up and staring at him with wide eyes.

"is that (y/n)?" he asks the corgi, but giggles to himself when he realises that he's speaking to a dog. although, he would definitely start freaking out if stubby were to answer him. "who is she fighting with?"

he looks at the cat resting his head on the corgi's body. "do you know who she's fighting with?"

the cat simply meows at it before his eyes flutter closed, nuzzling his cheeks into stubby's body. logan nods to himself as he slowly climbs out of bed and creaks the door open to get a glance at the girl in the living room.

"seriously, you should just go," he sees her throwing her arms into the air and walking towards the entryway of their apartment. "i can't believe you thought i was going to sleep with you!"

"you invited me up for coffee. it's 11 in the evening!" he hears a deeper voice answer her. he raises an eyebrow, opening the door slightly wider to get a look at the person in his living room.

he didn't even know that she left for a date, much less leave the apartment in the first place.

"tea! i invited you up for a cup of tea!" she shrieks. he watches with a small smile when she comes back into his view and starts to yank the unnamed man towards their door. "just go! you're disgusting!"

"how, exactly?"

"like i prepared a cup of tea and i came back to you naked in my living room," she mutters.

with the revelation, logan could no longer contain his shock. he audibly gasps, followed by a giggle that he couldn't hold back. her head snaps over to where he is and he takes it upon himself to open the door to show himself to them.

"mate, you should listen to the lady and go," logan mutters, gesturing towards the door. he giggles as he clasps his hands together. "because if she doesn't beat you up, i will."

"piss off. this has nothing to do with you."

she raises an eyebrow and tilts her head. "you don't think i could beat you? want me to show you out in the hall?" she scoffs, shoving the man towards the door again. "just go! make this as least painful as you can for the betterment of your health."

it takes a while for her to get him out of their apartment, but when she does, logan steps out of his room with a loud laugh. "mate, do you have the magnetic force to attract all the weirdos of the earth?"

"shut up, logan," she scoffs, rolling her eyes. she closes the front door behind her and pulls her hair back. she's still in what she'd worn out: the floral d&g dress that she's decided to make her signature outfit and a fluffy white jacket to keep her from the cold. "seriously, i'm going to be single for the rest of my life! it's not funny!"

"you're only 21, calm down," logan laughs and walks into the kitchen. he sighs when he opens the fridge, and then the freezer to be greeted with empty and unstocked shelves. "wanna head to oscar and lily's? i'm sure they have dinner."

"hey, what's wrong?" she asks, walking into the living room. she is greeted by the sight of logan drinking wine straight from the bottle with stubby in his lap. "are you alright?"

"i got dumped," logan mutters, taking another swig of the wine. he looks down at his phone and doesn't spare her another stare. "not really. it's just easier to say it like that."

"oh, i'm so sorry," she mutters. but she doesn't approach him. she turns on her heel and heads right into the kitchen, making logan throw his head back and a hand into the air to question the way she is handling the situation.

she comes back out with a wine bottle in her hand, already opening the bottle halfway. "i don't know how to make you feel better. and i know you won't talk about it until you're ready," she smiles. she takes the empty spot next to logan and folds her legs under her body. "so i'll just drink with you."

"how do you know that? i could tell you about it right now and you'd be too wasted to give me advice," logan mutters, dropping his phone.

she scowls. "i've lived with you half my life. you think i don't know what you're like after a breakup?" she laughs and throws the cork on their coffee table. "that's funny."

"which one are you drinking?" logan mutters, reaching over to take a look at her bottle. "oh, rosé. fancy."

"just drink," she mutters. she holds the bottle up towards logan. to which, he clinks his own bottle with hers as they individually sip their wine in silence.

they drink objectively quick at first: talking about the year they just had with every chug of their wine in their hands. eventually, she wound up with her feet in logan's lap. stubby has run off to drink some water from his bowl and never left the designated feeding area in their apartment.

suddenly they've halved their wine. both bottles are on the coffee table as she lies back on the couch, giggling when logan grabs her calf. "i just think the male population should be taxed whenever they want to speak," she slurs, lifting her head slightly to look at logan. "thoughts?"

"agree. i wish people would stop asking me questions," logan shakes his head. "i just want to be by myself."

and when there's merely a couple of sips left in their wine, they're now on the floor. their feet are up on the couch and their backs are against the cold material of the floor. her hair is sprawled on the floor with her hands over her stomach.

there's a redness that peeks through her cheeks and neck as she feels herself grow more intoxicated through the night. meanwhile, logan is next to her completely red with a coy smile on his face.

"do you remember three years ago?" she mutters, eyelids fluttering close as her voice becomes softer with every word.

"a lot happened three years ago," logan giggles. "i had a crush on you three years ago."

"that's what i'm talking about."

she turns her head to look at him, a lump growing in her throat when logan is already looking at her. "i should have made a move," logan whispers to her with a small smile. "is that what you were getting at? that's why you brought it up?"

"should have?" she whispers, lifting an eyebrow at him.

"well, yeah," logan shrugs, tearing his eyes away from her to look up at the ceiling. "it's different now. it's complicated now, don't you think?"

"i guess," she whispers, letting her stare linger before looking back up at the ceiling. "are you going to remember any of this in the morning?"

"i don't think so. i can't feel my face."

"that's because you soloed the red wine."

"you soloed the rosé - you're not that much better than me."

she breathes out. "we're just as bad as each other, i guess."

she freezes when she feels logan patting around the ground, eventually finding her hand on her stomach. he tears her hands off one another, intertwining his fingers with hers and rests their hands between their bodies.

"you know we can't, right?" she whispers suddenly, squeezing his hand. "there's too much on the line. for you. for me."

"just give me this one," logan says, just barely above a whisper. he reciprocates the squeeze, pulling their hands closer to his body. "not like we'll remember it in the morning."

"yeah, okay."

but she wakes up that morning alone in her bed, with a glass of water and an advil pill on the bedside table. she sighs softly and lifts her hands to her sight. she can still vividly remember how logan's hands felt in hers.

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozart @inejismywife @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @love4lando

[xoxoemynn]

For OFMD Tumblr friends who want a S3 and are scared of Twitter

First, no judgment from me. I very much get it. I resisted Twitter for a long time, and even though I'm now a bit more comfortable on it, it's still not my Fandom Home. There are a TON of valid reasons not to be on Twitter, but if you REALLY want to keep OFMD visible right now and help its chances of returning for a third season, Twitter is the best place to do it. Like it or not, Twitter is still the best social media platform for raising awareness and for instant news updates.

Tumblr posts don't make headlines. Topics that have been trending on Twitter do. And if we want this show to come back, we need to make OFMD impossible to ignore.

By now you've probably seen just how close we came to a S3, and if you're like me, you are RAGING and donning your battle jacket. But I get it can be intimidating to get on Twitter for the first time, so I thought I'd address some common anxieties I see. I'll put below a cut because this got a bit long, but I promise it's a quick read.

I don't know what to say! Where do I even start? That's okay! You don't have to create your own tweets (although it's great if you do). Amplifying other people's posts is also important. Go ahead and like/retweet/reply to other people's posts. This may also help you get an idea of what you may like to say in your own tweets.

Hashtags...yes? Yes! Although don't use too many or you may get flagged as a bot. The biggest one that seems to be emerging is #SaveOFMD. Other popular ones are #RenewAsACrew, #RenewOurFlagMeansDeath, and of course, #OFMD and #OurFlagMeansDeath.

Should I just be tagging all the streaming services? Per @renewasacrew, no. It's counterproductive. You'll want to tag one streamer at a time and be specific. Below is an example of a tweet I made the other day -- use specific reasons why that that particular streamer may benefit from picking up OFMD.

I'm scared. People are mean. Yeah, people are mean. But I will say the vibes over at OFMD Twitter are currently the best I've ever seen them. People seem to have united for the greater good and are being overwhelmingly positive and just trying to do whatever we can to save the show. (That said, again, I already had a pretty curated feed, and was very liberal with blocking users/terms I didn't want to see, but I've been able to spend so much more time in the For You tab than I ever have without being jump scared by something.)

But I don't know anyone there! Wouldn't I just be shouting into the void? Not if you use the hashtags! Fans are being really good about following those and engaging with the tweets. Plus, [Stede voice], I'm your friend. I'm xoxoemynn over there as well, I'll follow you back and engage with any of your posts that I see. Plus, what's been REALLY lovely to see is that SO many lurkers have come out of lurkerdom to support the efforts, and they are being welcomed with open arms, so you will not be alone. Again, I am telling you, vibes? Best I've ever seen them.

I can't get sucked into another social media platform, I don't have the time. The beauty here is you don't need to spend a lot of time. I've been on Twitter more in the past week than I have in the entire year I've had an account, and I'm still only on for maybe an hour total the entire day? I open the app, I check a couple accounts, I engage with a handful of posts, and I close the app. It takes all of five minutes. It's an extremely small lift that can have a very big impact.

My bet is on Zaslav expecting us to be upset, and that there may be a day or two of outrage, but then we'd move on. I'm sure right now he's trying to convince everyone that this is a fluke, and that it'll blow over soon. Don't let him win. Keep OFMD in the news. Be loud (but polite) and make Max and other streamers take note of what a passionate, loyal fan base this show has. Make their stocks continue to drop. Make it clear this is NOT just a fluke, it is NOT business as usual. It's a BIG fuck up with lasting consequences.

Twitter, for all its sins, is the best place to do this.

Now let's get our damned show back.

[goldsainz]

❝ WE’D BE A BIG CONVERSATION ❞

MASTERLIST!

pairing . . . carlos sainz x leclerc!reader

◦∘｡ﾟ. request . . . “Carlos x Leclerc!reader and how the media would react?🤭 ❤️”

◦∘｡ﾟ. summary . . . even if the world can’t make up its mind about you, you’ll still be endgame.

◦∘｡ﾟ. note . . . HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO TAY TAY!!! i had to make something at least related to her… although most of my fics are based on her songs so i owe her a lot for all the variety she has on her catalogue 💙 on another note, now that i’m back i gotta keep the fics coming so i hope to put one per week (don’t hold me to that). this is also soooo longggg im sorry😭

liked by lorenzotl, carlossainz55 and 207,843 others

yourusername living my spanish villa life

view all 1,609 comments

carlosfan1 carlos in the likes!!!!!

ynfan1 she’s the love of my life

charles_leclerc Trop belle ❤️

liked by yourusername and 26,139 others

arthur_leclerc Why are you in spain?

arthur_leclerc Come back to Monaco

⤷ yourusername no

⤷ arthur_leclerc I’m telling maman

⤷ yourusername go right ahead, i’ll tell her all about those plates that suddenly disappeared

⤷ arthur_leclerc Truce…?

⤷ yourusername yayyy

ynfan2 crying at arthur being clingy😭

user1 girl it’s the middle of august aren’t you sweating your skin off?

⤷ yourusername beauty is pain ❤️

⤷ ynfan3 LMFAO

liked by landonorris, reyesvdec and 1,283,059 others

carlossainz55 Summer 💛

view all 19,245 comments

carlosfan21 trying not to freak tf out rn…

anasainzvdec Que veranillo 🙌

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 71,024 others

carlosfan22 WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK

ynfan21 why did y/n like carlos sister’s comment🤨

⤷ carlosfan23 she did what?!?!

⤷ ynfan21 she unliked it a while after… but i screenshotted it cause it was so weird

⤷ ynfan22 this + him liking y/n’s latest post is giving soft-launch

carlosfan24 expected silly season, got love season

carlosfan25 patiently waiting for the f1 detectives to uncover who that is 😁

ynfan23 THAT IS SO Y/N

ynfan24 i’d like to issue out an apology for how annoying i’ll be if that is in fact y/n

⤷ carlosfan26 me too

⤷ pierregasly Me three

⤷ ynfan24 WHAT??? PIERRE???

⤷ francisca.cgomes pierregasly that is not your burner…

⤷ pierregasly Shiiiiit

⤷ ynfan25 there’s a lot to unpack here😭

yourusername updates their instagram stories!

francisca.cgomes responded to you story!

francisca.cgomes you’re in italy rn 🤨

yourusername i knowwww

francisca.cgomes so why aren’t you enjoying

yourusername cause charles and arthur and lorenzo are hovering over my shoulder like im gonna blow up the ferrari motorhome which mean i can’t see my mannnn😫

francisca.cgomes pierre can take care of charles, and then i’ll ask charlotte if she can distract lorenzo… maybe you can talk to carla so she’ll keep arthur busy?

yourusername I LOVE YOU! YOU’RE A LIFESAVER!

francisca.cgomes you can thank me later!!! go see carlos while you can

yourusername right okay bye bye

francisca.cgomes 😘

liked by lailahasanovic, olliebearman and 297,150 others

yourusername italy you were amazing!!!!!

view all 4,457 comments

ynfan31 HELLO???????

ynfan32 did not expect this when i opened insta

carlosfan31 oh.

arthur_leclerc Answer my calls

arthur_leclerc Don’t ignore us, Y/N

charles_leclerc ???

lorenzotl Interesting

user31 where’s the jacket from?

⤷ yourusername bershka 🩵

⤷ ynfan33 BYE NOT HER IGNORING HER BROTHERS

carlosfan32 okay but what does lorenzo know why is he so chill 🤨

ynfan34 it’s giving ferrari royalty

ynfan35 the way her eyes were glowing while watching carlos on the podium… they’re in love IN LOVE

carlosfan33 HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAMMM

yourusername updated their instagram stories!

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 1,783,902others

carlossainz55 Singapore you’ll forever be in my memory

view all 26,758 comments

yourusername mi amorrrr

yourusername winner of singapore and my heart

⤷ carlossainz55 Mi corazón es todo tuyo también ❤️

yourusername 🫠🫠🫠

carlosfan41 they’re so endgame coded

⤷ ynfan41 so reputation coded in general

carlosfan42 y/n is so me thirsting over carlos

carlosfan43 god i’ve seen what you’ve done for others

ynfan42 why does it feel like charles and arthur are so detached from y/n lately???

⤷ carlosfan44 OMG YES I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO SAY THIS

⤷ carlosfan45 i think since monza we’ve had no content with them… we went from silly stories to radio silence

scuderiaferrari ❤️🍾

liked by carlossainz55 and 68,035 others

ynfan43 these are my parents now

ynfan44 this is everything to me!!!!!!!

carlosfan46 singapore will forever be in my memory too 🥹

translations:

— mi amorrrr : my loveeee — Mi corazón es todo tuyo también : My heart is all yours too

-ˋˏ *.· taglist . . . @lorarri @lpab @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis @leoramage @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @toomuchdelusion @goldenalbon @ravisinghs-wife @nouvellevqgue @hobiismyhopeu @celestialpato @lecsainz @kkeels @darleneslane @avengersheart

[kazbrekkerscrutches]

Spencer Reid - We Shouldn't Be Doing This

Warnings: smut themes but no actual smut, fed!spencer x enemyfed!reader, enemies to something (let u pick babes), insults, angst, one-bed trope (ur welcome)

This is Spencer in the more recent seasons, but you can picture him in your preferred season.

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: Y/N and Spencer have never liked each other. They are always competing over who's the smartest, who's the most handy with a gun. Yet, when they're sent on a mission and they end up in a motel room with one bed, things get interesting.

A/N: Yall are gonna love this. This is inspired by this. Thank you for that. The girlies are gonna love this one! Thanks for reading <3. Let me know ur feedback! @hereforhalstead thank u for the idea.

I had started working at the BAU for a couple of years. I got along fine with the girls, JJ and Emily. Garcia was my girl, hyping me up and helping me with anything. Most of the boys were fine too, Morgan made me laugh until I couldn’t breathe, Hotch was like a big brother to me and Rossi was a father figure to me. But there is one guy that was very insufferable and the only person in the BAU that I could not stand. Dr Spencer Reid. 

Don’t get me wrong, he’s a very attractive man. Yet he is the most infuriating person I have ever met. 

He didn’t seem to like me too, when I joined the BAU. He looked at me with dark eyes. His hair was always messy, his snarky attitude made me want to kill him sometimes. 

After joining the FBI for about six months, Spencer and I were competing against each other all the time. It didn’t matter if the subject was mentioned, we were already arguing on who was the smartest. He kept making the remarks about his IQ, his eclectic memory and the fact that he could read 20 000 words per minute. 

It didn’t matter what I told him, he kept laying it on thick. He kept trying to prove to the entire world that no one could be smarter than him.

One day, Hotch and Rossi had enough of us screaming and arguing all the time. They sent us on a light care in New Jersey, about a girl who escaped a convicted killer. 

This is just fucking perfect. Now I’m stuck with the encyclopedia. I tell myself. I bet he wasn’t happy too, just by the look on his face. He looked like he was boiling on the inside. His face was red, his hair looking worse than usual and streams practically coming out of his ears. 

We got into a car, driving us to the airport. Total silence filled the car, neither of us daring to start an argument. We got out of the car after a while, heading into the jet and off to New Jersey.

It took about two hours to get there. My headphones were placed on my ears, reading the file of the young woman who escaped. I could see Spencer playing with a coin, not really doing anything. 

When the jet landed, we got into another car. We arrived late at night, meaning the interview with the girl would have to be in the morning. 

The car dropped us to a motel, where Hotch and Rossi had reserved a room for us. The lady in the front desk gave me the keys, both of us walking towards our room in silence. I could feel his stare burning the side of my head. 

As I opened the room, I was the first to see that the room was missing something. 

There’s only one bed.

I swore under my breath. Spencer saw it next, shutting the door behind me. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I heard him say. 

Rossi had planned this, he had to. He planned for us to get away, fix our issues and get back to Quantico like nothing was wrong between us. 

I dropped my bag on the chair beside the window. “This is just wonderful.” I mumbled sarcastically. 

I earned one of Spencer’s glares. “What? You think I want this more than you do?” I look at him, not amused by Rossi’s ruse. 

He drops his bags, taking off his coat and suit jacket. “I would’ve preferred to sleep on the concrete than to share a bed with you. I bet it would be much more comfortable.” 

I scoffed, taking off my coat and dropping it on the chair. “Right in with the fire, mh? You like that, to get me fired up and all ready to insult you. What’s your fucking problem?” I speak with a harsher tone, anger clearly lacing my throat. 

“What’s my problem? You’re an arrogant idiot who barged into the BAU like it was your living room! You’re intolerable, Y/N! You know that?” He practically spit in my face.

“Oh, so now I’m the problem. Please, Dr Reid, tell me all of the remarks you have against me.” I say, stepping closer to him, looking up at his stern face. His breathing has gotten faster, his hands in fists by his side. 

“You’re ignorant, selfish. You only care about yourself and that small head of yours. You try to make yourself smarter than everyone else! Just because you went to fucking Stanford doesn’t mean your Einstein.” He started walking closer to me, anger radiating off of him. 

“What else? Hm?” I whisper, my voice stern and angry. I didn’t care what he thought of me. His opinion was the last thing I cared about. 

“You’re a spoiled little girl who got everything she wanted in her whole life. You got the job, the looks, the money. Everything. You didn’t work a single day in your life to earn all of that.” He grabbed onto my forearms, clenching his fists entirely against my wrists. He had pushed them behind my back, pinning me to the wall behind them. His voice got quieter, still angry and venomous. 

“Fuck you, Reid.” I whisper in his face, my face clearly affected by his words. My breathing has quickened too, my pulse fast and hard in my chest. My cheeks were flushed, the heat of his chest radiating off of me. “You’re telling me this for what, hm? To get me to hate you? Because, trust me, I already do. You’re a selfish prick, who only cares about how smart you are compared to the world. No wonder you can’t get anyone to stay with you.” I tell him angrily, his hands twisting around my forearms, untwisting them from my back and pulling them flush against his chest.

His blood was practically boiling. I could feel his hot breath on my face, his eyes burning with fury. “You better shut up before I make you shut up, Y/N.” He whispered roughly. 

I raised my eyebrow, testing his patience. “Or what? You’ll have me arrested? You can’t do that.” I whisper, close to his face. I don’t think he could’ve gotten more mad than he already was but boy I was wrong. 

He slammed his lips against mine, releasing my wrists to grab my face roughly. His hands claimed dominance on my jaw, sliding into my hair and pulling it. His mouth was engulfing mine, his tongue deep in my mouth. I melted into his touch, his rough hold on me making me release the madness against him. His lips left my lips, melting down to my neck. He left heated kisses, making my head lean back on the wall. His teeth grazed my neck, nibbling it and licking it with his wicked tongue. 

My hands clinged on his chest, the hardness of it under my fingers. His chest flexed under my harsh touch, my hands going all the way to his back and his slutty waist I had been eyeing for months. His breath was hot and sweaty on my neck, suddenly taking a bite into my neck, making me whimper softly. 

His lips left my neck, lifting his head to speak directly on my lips. “I hate you so much that it makes me love you.” He whispered on my lips, kissing me harshly with his hands around my jaw. 

He pulled me off the wall, his hands roaming down to my thighs and lifting them up to his waist. My hands went in his hair, his sharp jaw and all of the hot skin I could touch. 

He sat down on the bed, taking me on his lap. His hands were all over me, on my waist down to my hips and ass. He groped anything he could find. My lips went on his neck, tilting his head to give me better access. I found his sweet spot, making him cry out, moaning into my shoulder. He whispered in my ear, “We shouldn’t be doing this, Y/N.” His voice was rough and needy at the same time. 

“Everything about you tells me otherwise, Spencer.” I whisper roughly, kissing back up to his jaw, my hips set over his. He pulled my hips flush on his, a gasp leaving my mouth.

“Fuck it.” He mumbled under his breath, switching positions to set me under him, his tie falling on my chest. Both of us were hot and sweaty, our breaths labored and heart pounding. His hips were set harshly on mine, feeling every single inch of him. 

I grabbed his tie, pulling him closer to my face. “You’re not lying?” I whispered, my eyes fiery but not angered. He knotted his eyebrows slightly. “About what?” He mumbled softer than usual.

“About loving me? Because I would be a liar if I said I didn’t feel the same way.” I spoke softly, one hand tugging his tie and the other touching his jaw. 

“I’m not lying.” He whispered, a glimpse of surprise in his eyes. His gaze softened a little, both of his arms around my head.

“Good.” I whisper, my lips grazing his swollen lips. “Because there’s no going back to before after this.” I whispered, kissing him roughly. My hands on his jaw, feeling the power of it while he kissed me with exploding passion for the rest of night and for the following years. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Great Expectations 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Professor Holmes’ class is your most difficult, but he’s about to make it even more challenging.

Characters: Sherlock Holmes (modern AU)

Note: monday

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Friday arrives too quickly for your likely. Amid the usual cluster of readings, lectures, and assignments, you have Professor’s Holmes’ additional task to add to the pile. It feels unfair that he would point out your own efforts only to force more upon you. His praise hardly seems like that in retrospect. 

That you did the readings likely made your experience simpler, though the vague instructions leave you uncertain. No rubric, no objectives, no outline. Your format in the usual style and triple-check the word count before you resign yourself to fate or fortune, whichever favours you. 

As usual, Professor Holmes prefers a physical copy, neglecting the digital workspace designed by the campus for ease of access. He doesn’t seem to be the type for the easy way out, does he? You try not to malinger on your gripes and head off, promising to reward yourself with a double whip frap for your work. It’s certainly more than you’ll receive from your professor, even if you do manage to gleam your first A+ from the man. 

The softness of autumn mingles with the crispness of early winter. You mourn the orange and yellow leaves as they start to curl at the edges and brown, blowing across the pavement and catching on pantlegs and tree roots. Midterm season is almost over but it won’t be long before finals rise to haunt you. 

You come up the Herringbone building and look up at the romanticist arches and columns. The esteemed architecture has you feeling even smaller. Surely, the professor will only add to that. 

Inside, the air is dry from the heat blowing from the high vents and curved staircases crest the foyer. You follow the left one up and continue along to the small set of steps that lead up to a hallway with only three office doors. Holmes is at the very end. You went there once before when you needed to be signed into the course; he was certain to make you wait then threatened not to sign the form at all. 

You stop and stare at the frosted glass with his pedigree emblazoned on it. You contemplate just shoving the paper through his slot but the light is on. You raise your fist and gently tap on the wood. You bounce on your feet as you wait, tugging at the itchy collar of the blue sweater dotted with little clouds. In the warmth of the stuffy building and under your wool jacket, it’s stifling. 

You hear movement from within and ready yourself for the encounter. You don’t think you’ve ever talked to Professor Holmes without some degree of awkwardness. On your end, of course. He can’t be bothered to care what others think of him. 

The door opens and you try to smile but it feels like chewing rocks. He looks back at you without an ounce of emotion. You gulp. 

“Um, Professor, I have my paper--” 

He’s already walking away as you stand dumbly in the doorway. You blanch as he circles back to his desk and sits heavily in his seat. He leans forward and dips his head, bending over an open leather folio with a lined pad within. A curl falls onto his forehead and he reaches without looking for the pipe propped up on a mahogany tray. 

“Come in,” he says before he puts the pipe to his lips and bites down. He teethes on it as he snatches up a pen with his other hand. You warily obey and cross the threshold. 

“So, um, here you go,” you near the desk and lay down the stapled paper. He doesn’t look up. “Erm, thanks, professor. I hate to disturb, so I’ll just leave it here--” 

He sighs and sits up, flicking back the curl as he replaces the pipe on the tray, “they won’t let me light that, even with the window open.” 

You glance over at the drawn curtains and nod, “oh.” 

“You’re the first,” he interjects before you can summon any sort of response. 

“Ah, oh--” 

“You are rather quick, aren’t you?” He challenges as he rolls the pen between his fingers, his shoulders spreading wide against the puckered leather chair, “fleet of foot, as some Victorian ponce might say. Quiet.” 

You blink and purse your lips, giving a shrug. 

“You didn’t say hello,” he intones, “it is courteous when you see an acquaintance to greet them, though I suppose etiquette does continue to change.” 

“Um, I didn’t want to... impose?” You murmur. 

His expression remains cryptic. You can’t tell if he’s annoyed or amused or something else. 

“So you didn’t,” he shrugs, his vest bracing on his chest. 

“Sorry, er, sir. But um, there’s my paper, I’ll... let you be. I’m sure you’re busy enough--” 

“Terribly busy,” he confirms dryly. “Since I’ll have a new batch of papers to mark, I’ll be kept well in hand.” 

You clasp your hands together and sway, “right, uh--” 

“And you’ll be off like the rest of those dull girls, paying no mind to the real purpose of study, but rather the wordly pleasures of the modern campus. All that pumpkin spice and such.” He reprimands. 

“Oh, uh, professor...” you know better than to argue. He is set in his ideas of his students and what should make you any different than the rest. 

“Right then,” he reaches for your paper and barely glances at the title page. He flips to the short essay and his eyes skim. He reaches for the antique pen and marks up the page as he goes. He hums as he scratches with the nib. “Good point but clunky prose. No, redudant.” He scribbles his comments in the margins. He turns to the second page and sighs. He closes it and holds it out. “You show comprehension but you need refinement.” 

“Um, thanks, er...” you take it hesitantly and back up again. He watches you with his bold blue eyes, not showing a single crack in his veneer. 

“Go off and enjoy your weekend, don’t fret over the fault of others. Certainly, you show more promise than most who haunt my lectures,” he says. His tone is flat but his words are praising. The contradiction has you off-foot. 

“Thank you, Professor, have a good weekend too.” 

He doesn’t respond as he puts his attention back to another stack of papers. You turn on your heel slowly and scurry to the door. He clears his throat and you stop. 

“Perhaps I mightn’t have such a tedious weekend.” 

You glance back but he still has his head down. You nod and leave him be with a sharp inhale. You hold your breath in until you close the door from the other side. 

Only a few more weeks and you’ll be through this class. Hopefully, you won’t ever have to face the heart palpitations that come with each encounter after that. For now, you will focus on the last paper and the eventual exam. Those are hurdles that look higher the closer you get. 

📕

There’s a cafe off campus you prefer. The library kiosk and the franchised booth in the Student Rec Centre are always overcrowded. This place isn’t so bad. A local mom and pop with a single barista. Maude, the retiree turned businesswoman, works slowly but efficiently. Traffic matches her pace but is enough to keep her thriving. 

“I’ll bring it to you, dearie,” she smiles as she hands you a plate with a crumbly scone on it. You thank her and go to find a seat. 

The place is homey. The seating is mismatched. There are armchairs around a low coffee table, some long tables with thrift store dining chairs, and square table in the corner with two benches and some stools. The rug that stands center to the sitting space is faded but its patterns still visible. 

You claim one of the armchairs near the bookcases and sit. Despite the tense submission, you’re glad not be stressing over another mark. Another A- to add to the rota in Holmes’ class. You could do a lot worse given what you’ve overheard from your classmates. 

The door opens and closes, letting in a chilly. You keep your coat on as you balance the scone on the coffee table. You’ll wait until you have your mocha and savour them together. It’s a rare treat but the dropping temperature coaxed you into it. 

A familiar baritone pricks your ears. You glance over before you can bury your nose in your phone and flinch. What luck. You almost doubt it’s a coincidence. Twice in a row you’ve managed to stumble upon the Professor outside of class. 

Your shoulders sink as you turn back and plant your elbow on the armrest, shielding your face behind your hand. What do you do? Your mind races. Despite what he said in his office he does not radiate welcoming energy. You can’t just flee and leave your order behind; it isn’t fair to Maude and you wouldn’t want to waste the money. 

Professor Holmes’ voice carries. He orders a black coffee and two shortbread biscuits; the Saturday special. The elder barista takes his order and as usual, bids him to sit down so she can bring it to him. You chew your lip as time ticks on. Make up your mind. 

Too late.  

“Pardon, oh,” Holmes approaches and gives pause as you look up at him. “You aren’t reserving these for your friends?” 

He gestures to the other arm chairs. You shake your head and clasp your phone tight in your hands. He dips his chin and sidles around the coffee chair. He removes his jacket and hangs it on the rack between the bookshelves. He lingers there as he browses the titles on the spines. 

Maude appears with your mocha in a large mug on a matching saucer. You thank her as she sets it by your scone. She calls over to Holmes, “I’ll have your coffee and biscuits in just a moment, dearie.” 

He turns his head and nods but says nothing else. She shuffles off and you lean forward to take your mug. Somehow your chocolatey treat doesn’t seem so sweet any more. He backs up and lowers himself across from you. You shyly return his gaze over the brim of your cup. 

“You come here often?” He asks. 

The question has you off-guard as much as his presence. You slurp noisily before you pull the cup away and put it down. You take the napkin by your scone and wipe your lips. 

“Sometimes. Once in a while. Er, I... I make my coffee at home. Tea, more often.” You clamp your lip shut before you can ramble on. 

“Mm, yes, I prefer tea as well. I was suggested the dark roast here by a colleague however.” 

You don’t know what to say. You’re entirely unprepared for the conversation. You’ve never thought much of what he might speak of outside his lectures. His interests, you assume, would align with his expertise. 

“You are enjoying your time? You haven’t any schoolwork?” He asks. 

You slant your lips one way then the other. You look down at the bag by your feet and back at him. He wears a wool sweater with elbow patches; not quite casual but casual for him. 

“I was going to do my readings...” you say. 

“Ah,” he sits back in the chair as Maude brings his coffee and biscuits. He thanks her tersely. 

You bend over and reach for your bag. You slide out your notebook and open it to the printed articles stashed between the pages. You hope it’s enough of an excuse not to talk as much. 

“My class?” He asks. 

“Yes, sir, er, Professor,” you answer. 

“Those are available digitally, as I understand.” 

“I know, but I, er, prefer print.” 

“Mm, yes, it does permeate more effectively, doesn’t it?” He intones. 

You agree with a silent nod and try to focus. You’re too shy to check if he’s watching you but it feels like he is. He sighs and sips from his cup. 

“What were you on the hunt for then?” He asks abruptly before you can read the introduction for the fifth time. You look up, perplexed. “At the craft store?” 

You open your mouth then pause. Finally, you summon the answer, “thread.” 

“Thread?” 

“Yes, I... make little things. Sometimes. It wasn’t urgent. I don’t have my sewing machine in my dorm and... no time.” You shrug and let the papers lay flat on your notebook. 

He considers you as his cheek dimples and he leans his chin on his knuckles. He looks down at the cup he holds over one leg. He sucks his teeth. 

“Rather flat,” he dislodges his elbow and leans forward. “And what did you get? It smells intriguing.” 

“Mocha with peppermint,” you answer. 

“Mm, with whip?” He peeks at your cup and the melting glut of cream. 

“Yes, Professor,” you reply. 

“I think I might trade mine for the same,” he stands with his cup in hand. 

You watch him, confused and uneasy. So much for getting some studying done. You doubt you’ll be able to concentrate with him looming on the other side of the table. 

[dianawinchester03]

Season 3, Episode 3 - Bad Day At Black Rock (Part One)

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Hiiiii. HAPPY NEW YEAR LOVES. It’s been a minute since I’ve updated but I finally hauled my lazy ass and finished up the new episode🤣

Random but the song inspo for this chapter is Best Friend’s Brother by Victoria Justice💀

So my dumbass FORGOT that in the actual show, Ruby revealed herself to be a demon in season 3 episode 2💀I just widdled it into this episode with my own twist, as per usual hahaha.

This chapter stands at 24.7k words combined and this is part 1. Here is part 2! Hope everyone enjoys it🫶

Trigger Warning: mentions of sexual assault towards female character (no sexual assault actually takes place)

____________________________________________

Third Person POV

Aurora, New York

•One Week Later

Sam and Y/N were currently in a diner, both nose deep into information on lores, searching for any type of way to get Dean out of his demon deal. They left Dean back at Y/N’s safehouse, leaving the elder Winchester passed out after having one too many last night and almost getting into a bar fight.

Luckily, he made it out of there intact, thanks to getting hauled out on his ass by Sam and Y/N. His actions earned him multiple smacks to the noggin by his loving girlfriend and a lecture from his caring younger brother while getting driven back to the house. He barely heard a word that went past Sam’s lips since he fell asleep in Y/N’s lap in the back seat halfway through the drive.

Then after getting tossed over his brother's shoulder from the Impala to the room and stuffed into a thick fluffy blanket, Y/N made it her duty to coddle and love a half conscious, drunken Dean Winchester. Changing him out of his clothes, which he ended up barfing all over. Then having to clean up and help him shower while he yapped about “how sorry he was for ruining her jacket”, “how much he loved her” and “how much his little brother meant to him”

All while threatening to castrate her in her sleep if she uttered a word of his drunken ramblings to Sam. Y/N simply snickered at him while she placed fresh clothes on his body, tucked him away, then whispering a soft, “I’ll never tell him your secret, charming. No matter how sweet they are” Before swaddling him away into her arms and falling soundly asleep.

Now back to the current time, since they’d been on the road for the past week, Jo took a detour for a case in Long Island with her mom. She said she’d be back in a few days tops but it had already been a week and no signs of the Harvelle ladies. Sam was on his third cup of coffee, growing antsy by the second.

Y/N was busy typing away on her laptop, her eyes flickering up to Sam when she noticed him finished his third cup. “Over caffeinating is not gonna make her call faster, Samuel. She’s fine” Y/N assured him in a deadpan tone as she scrolled through a dark website. “I know that” Sam retorted with a huff, “I just miss her” He said in a low tone as he fidgeted with his coffee mug, staring into the now empty cup. Y/N glanced up from her laptop at him with a raised brow.

Sam let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair, rolling his eyes when he saw the look on her face. "But it's been a week already. You know how dangerous hunting can be. And they took a job on Long Island, no less. Not exactly a hotspot for peaceful demons and ghosts." Y/N snorted in amusement, "And there it is" She shook her head as she wrapped her fingers around her own mug.

Sam raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "What do you mean by, 'And there it is'?" he asked, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. She shot her best friend an unimpressed look before reaching over and tapping him on his forehead. Sam swatted her hand away with a scoff, trying to look annoyed. "What the hell was that for?" Y/N raised a brow in response. "You're getting all flustered, like a schoolboy who just got dumped by his high school sweetheart." She smirked as she continued, leaning back in her seat.

"And it doesn't do you any good worrying yourself sick over it. You know they can handle themselves just fine. Besides, I'm sure Jo will call as soon as they finish dealing with whatever's going down in that sleepy beach town." Sam huffed out a sigh, hating how well she could read him. "I hate you" He grumbled, beginning to bite at his thumbnail as he scribbled down details to a possible soul-ritual on a piece of paper.

She chuckled, shaking her head. "No, you don't." She glanced down at the notes on the table, her eyes skimming over the page. "Any progress on finding anything that can reverse a deal?" Her fingers tapped against the rim of her mug as she took a sip. He shook his head as he ran a hand over his jaw. "Not much." he confessed. "Most of these soul-retrieving rituals seem like some sort of voodoo bullshit. Nothing that's actually gonna get us anywhere." He groaned in frustration, tossing the pen down on the table.

Just then, a sound of the diner door bells jingling echoed through the crowded diner. They paid no attention to the patron entering, indulging in their own conversation. The duo was caught off guard when a familiar face sat next to Y/N, across from Sam. “Hello, Sam” The blonde haired woman smirked at the younger Winchester, paying no mind to Y/N. Their eyes widened in surprise and a tinge of fear. "You" Y/N gasped.

“You've been following us since Lincoln" Sam pointed out at Ruby, slamming a book over his paper as Y/N slammed her laptop shut. "Not much gets by you, huh?" Ruby mused as she reached into Y/N's plate, stealing one of her fries "Hey! Get your own bitch" Y/N exclaimed as she snatched her plate back, giving Ruby a death glare. Sam leaned forward in his seat, trying to ignore Y/N's obvious anger. He kept his eyes trained on the demon.

Ruby moaned as she bit into the fries, "Mmm, these are amazing. It's like deep fried crack. Try some" Her last few words had an underlying skittish tone as she smirked at Sam. He scoffed in disgust at her words as Y/N continued to glare at her, gritting her teeth. Something about this chick didn't rub her the right way. Ruby's smirk only widened as she watched Y/N's expression.

"Calm down, kitten, you'll give yourself a stroke," she quipped, stealing another fry from the now guarded plate. Y/N clenched her jaw at the nickname, "Cut the bullshit" She spat. "That knife you had, you can kill demons with that thing?" She asked, keeping her fries guarded. “Sure comes in handy when I have to swoop in and save damsels in distress” Ruby quipped back, causing Sam and Y/N to roll their eyes in annoyance.

“Where'd you get it?” Sam asked as Ruby slid a plate over, squirting a hefty amount of ketchup into his plate, now digging into Sam’s fries, “Skymall” Sam and Y/N scoffed again, “Why are you following us?” He asked. “I’m interested in you” Ruby smiled as she chewed, “Because you're tall. And I love a tall man”

Y/N couldn't hold back the eye roll as Ruby continued to flirt with Sam. "Can you stop trying to charm the pants off of him?" She grumbled. "He's taken, by a much hotter blonde, thank you very much. So I'd suggest you scurry along back to whatever hole you crawled out of" Y/N growled, defending Sam in Jo's absence, glaring at Ruby once more.

Ruby raised a brow at Y/N with a smirk. "Ooh, the little kitten's got claws" She teased as she took another one of Sam's fries, much to his annoyance. Sam quickly intervened, trying to keep focus on the reason for why Ruby was really here. "Cut it out" He snapped, "And there's the whole antichrist thing" Ruby added, dipping her fry into the ketchup.

“Excuse me?” The two hunters echoed in unison, suddenly intrigued by what the hell she was talking about. Y/N was on the edge of her seat, her previous annoyance replaced by curiosity. “You know, the generation of psychic kids. Yellow eyed demon rounds you up, celebrity deathmatch ensues. You’re the last two survivors” Ruby mused, taking up Y/N’s mug of coffee to sip on it.

“How do you know about that?” Sam asked as Y/N remained dumbfounded. “I'm a good hunter” Ruby shrugged as she leaned back into her seat, placing the mug back down onto the table, “So, Yellow Eyes had big plans for you two” Ruby smirked, “Had, being the keyword” Y/N bit back as Sam glared at Ruby.

“Oh, yeah yeah yeah. That’s right. Ding-ding, the demon’s dead. Good job with that.” The demon mused, “Doesn’t change the fact that you two are special..in that Anthony Michael Hall and Jennifer Love Hewitt, ESP-vision kind of way-”

“No. No, that stuff’s not happening to me anymore. Not since Yellow Eyes died” Sam cut her off, “Well I’m thinking you’re still big deals. I mean, after all that business with your moms” These words from Ruby made Sam and Y/N’s heads snap in her direction.

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock and fear, “What about our mothers?” She asked, her heart starting to beat violently against her ribs. Ruby casually leaned her chair back, taking another sip of Y/N’s coffee, “You know, what happened to their friends” She mused. Sam and Y/N exchanged looks as their brows furrowed in confusion but they tried to mask it with hard gazes.

“You guys don’t know” Ruby playfully gasped, Sam’s nostrils flared as Y/N clenched her fists, tearing her eyes away from Ruby. “You’ve got some catching up to do, friends” Ruby smirked as she took out a pen from her pocket and took Sam’s hand into hers.

Y/N’s heart pounded violently in her chest at the sight of Ruby grabbing Sam’s hand, but she tried to keep a straight face. Sam snatched his hand back from her touch, recoiling in disgust as she tried to write on his hand.

“Don’t touch me” He snapped, his voice cold and serious. Ruby chuckled at his reaction, “Awh, that’s no way to treat a girl” She pouted mockingly, taking his hand again, “What the hell are you doing?” he snapped, trying to swat her away with his other hand, but Ruby was persistent.

“Seriously, dude, knock it off” Y/N snapped, noting Sam’s discomfort. She shoved Ruby’s hand harshly away from Sam’s. “Easy, kitten” Ruby scoffed, rolling her eyes at the psychic as she took up a napkin, waving it their faces before scribbling her number onto it.

Y/N’s blood boiled as she heard her nickname leave Ruby’s lips. "Call me that one more time, I'll cut your goddamn tongue out" Y/N sneered, her expression hardening as she clenched her jaw. Ruby simply chuckled, unaffected by the threat as she slid the napkin with her number on it across the table to Sam.

“Go look into your mothers’ pals and then give me a call, and we’ll talk again” Ruby said in a sultry tone before getting up from the booth. Y/N watched as Ruby walked away from the booth, feeling a sense of relief and hatred at the same time. Her eyes turned to Sam, who was watching the demon through the window.

“Please tell me we’re not actually gonna call her” Y/N’s voice was stern, but with an undertone of concern. Sam sighed, taking in the information that was just given to him. “Aren’t you the least bit curious about what she just said about our moms?” Sam asked lowly, contemplating looking into it.

Y/N leaned back in the booth cushions, crossing her arms as she thought about it. Part of her was curious and intrigued about the mention of her mother, but the other half was still on edge and skeptical about Ruby's motives. "I am, but I don't trust her" Y/N admitted, her eyes narrowing.

"Who's to say she's not lying just to get our attention?" Y/N continued, watching as Ruby's figure disappeared from view. Sam thought for a moment, fiddling with the napkin in his hands. "If she's telling the truth, then it's something we should look into" He said, his tone serious and cautious.

Y/N sighed, nodding her head. “Alright, I’m gonna go order some breakfast for Dean. Drop me off at the house and I’ll meet you at the library after” she told him as she slid out from the booth, walking over to the counter to order Dean some breakfast.

Sam watched her go before letting out a sigh himself. He looked down at the napkin in his hands, Ruby's number scribbled on it. He folded the napkin and shoved it in his pocket before getting up from the booth.

-

•One Hour Later

Y/N watched as the Impala roared down the dirt street with Sam behind the wheel before turning a corner and disappearing from sight. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket and started making her way back to her safehouse.

Her mind kept going back to that knife, she had an itching feeling towards it. She forced herself to shove it to the back of her mind as she slid the key into the door. Y/N entered the empty, making her way up the stairs and to the room where she found Dean, still fast asleep, tangled in the sheets and sprawled across the bed. She chuckled to herself at the sight, setting his breakfast down on the nightstand.

She sat at the edge of the bed, gently pushing some of the hair at the side of his head behind his ear. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, his temple, his cheek and lastly at the dimple below his chin before she pushed herself up from the bed. She stopped in her tracks when she remembered he would wake up with a banging hangover soon, so she shifted her gaze to her duffel bag.

She unzipped it and rummaged through it, coming up with a pack of ibuprofens, a bottle of Tylenol and a water bottle. She set the pills down next to his breakfast, along with the water. She then dug through her bag again, pulling out a pack of sticky notes and a pen from her pencil case.

Y/N scribbled a note and stuck it on the lid of the pill’s bottle that read:

‘Hangover cure. Eat your breakfast, take two and watch an old movie on my laptop. Doing research with Sammy, be back in a few hours. Love, your ESP Thing’

She signed it off, before picking up her things and shoving them back into her bag. She stuck another with a little heart drawn and colored in with the pen, saying: ‘Make sure you hydrate, dummy’, onto the water bottle, next to the breakfast, hoping Dean wouldn’t go batshit when he wakes up alone.

Just as she set her bag down onto the bed, she saw a familiar blue glow omit from the bag. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as she watched her bag glow a soft blue. She quickly knelt down at the foot of the bed and unzipped the duffle bag, her eyes widening as she was greeted by the glowing knife.

“What the-” She gasped, quickly shutting her mouth when she heard a light groan come from Dean. She tiptoed over, hoping she didn’t wake him, but he simply rolled over onto his belly and began snoring again. He seemed to still be asleep so she let out a soft sigh of relief before bringing her attention back onto the knife.

She took in the blade’s appearance, her eyes tracing over the intricate runes and symbols etched along the edges. She was still in shock as she reached a shaky hand out to hold the blade, watching as the light seemed to glow brighter at her touch.

None of this made sense, she knew she gave it to Bobby. So how did the knife reappear back into her possession? This couldn’t mean anything good. So y/n quickly fished out her phone from her pocket and began dialing Bobby’s number.

Just as she was about to click the call button, her finger froze. She shifted her gaze back to the knife that seemed to glow softly in protest.

No, I have to tell him. Knives don’t just appear out of thin air. Y/N’s inner thoughts pleaded with her.

“Fuck” she muttered, letting her hand fall back down to her side as she shut her phone with a loud click. Her eyes stayed fixated on the knife, her mind racing with all the possible explanations for the blade's sudden reappearance in her duffle.

She sighed, her mind conflicted and confused, as the knife continued to emit a soft glow. She knew she should call Bobby and inform him. But for some reason, a strong force inside her screamed at her to keep it from everyone, even Dean.

Y/N softly groaned, not too loud to wake up her boyfriend. Before tearing her eyes away from the knife, she placed it gently on the bed. She sat on the edge and placed her head in her hands, frustrated at the internal struggle going on inside her head. Her thoughts were swirling around the blade that was still sat next to her, the glowing blue light that seemed to call to her.

She knew it was stupid. Why was she feeling this attachment to a goddamn knife? And more importantly, why did the idea of losing the knife fill her with more dread than she’s ever felt before?

"Why me?" she muttered to herself, her eyes darting between the knife on the bed and the still asleep Dean on the bed. She knew she should call Bobby, but something was holding her back. She was torn between listening to her instincts and going with her head.

She succumbed to the pressure and snatched up the knife, sticking it into her black leather knee high boots. She convinced herself that keeping this knife would ensure that her family remain protected, seeing as it somehow exorcised two of the Seven Deadly Sins back to hell and the knife Ruby had killed two others.

Maybe she could somehow save Dean from going to hell. Who knows?

Y/N took a deep breath, her resolve now set. She stood up from the bed, her boots thumping against the thin carpet. She took up her motorcycle helmet from the floor and the keys from the nightstand as she took one more glance at the sleeping form of Dean. Her heart felt painfully heavy as a small content smile spread across her lips.

She pressed her palm to her lips, blowing a kiss towards him before making her down the stairs and towards the front door, quietly slipping out and closing the door behind her. Y/N stepped out of the house and took a deep breath. The cool air felt refreshing as she made her way over to Quinn parked outside in the yard, slinging her helmet on and strapping it.

She flung her leg over the bike and settled in, grabbing her keys as she started the engine. The bike roared to life, the sound echoing through the empty parking lot. With a final quick glance back at the house, Y/N took off down the street, headed towards the library to meet Sam.

____________________________________________

•Time Montage

Y/N groaned, rubbing her stiff neck. The library was practically empty except for a handful of other students, most of them with their heads buried in laptops or textbooks. Y/N leaned back in her chair, her eyes going blurry from staring at the computer screen.

She stretched her arms above her head, feeling the tension roll off her shoulders as she spoke into her phone. “Hi, I needed to check some facts with your…uh..secretary about a fire that occurred on November 24th, 2006 in Lawrence, Kansas” She said as Sam bit his thumb nail nervously.

Her breath hitched in her throat upon the woman’s answer, "Okay, thank you so much." She added, before hanging up and turning her attention to Sam, she smacked his hand away from his mouth. “Are you insane? You're gonna bite your nails down to stubs" She scolded, before he could even respond.

She then stuck her own nails into her mouth, now biting her own nails nervously. Sam shot her an unimpressed look, shaking his head.

-

“This is Police Chief, Phil Jones” Sam said into the phone, making sure no one heard.

-

“Hardecker was his name….Okay. Great. I’m just trying to find out the day he died” Y/N asked as she pressed the phone between her shoulder and cheek, typing away on her laptop. “July 13th?” She and Sam shared a look of horror.

-

“Can you check the records for me for a Robert Campbell and a Marcel Blackwood, July 19th 2001” Sam asked the coroner over the phone, waiting patiently. “Both dead on arrival?” His tone dropped.

Y/N listened to the conversation, her eyes scanning over the laptop screen. She felt a sense of dread growing in the pit of her stomach as they continued, scratching off both names from the list.

-

��What I’m after is the cause of death” Sam grumbled as he rubbed his eyes, “Heart condition?” He tilted his head in confusion as Y/N furrowed her brows. “What the fuck?” She mouthed to him as she scratched off the name. He placed his hand up, telling her to wait. “Wasn't he a cardiac surgeon? Wouldn’t he have known about that?”

-

“I’m looking for information on Mrs. Wallace’s death….three deaths? Who were the others?” Y/N’s eyes widened, running a hand over her mouth. Sam groaned as he scratched off another name on the list. “Ed Campbell and Jackson Blackwood” Y/N ran her hand over her face again as Sam scratched off the last remaining two names on the list.

“No, that’s all I needed. Thank you very much” Y/N finished before turning the phone off. Y/N let out a deep sigh, her mind racing with the new information. “Oh my god.” Sam muttered. "This is crazy," she muttered back in agreement, her eyes moving from the laptop screen to Sam.

____________________________________________

Now in a motel room they booked for a couple of hours, Ruby stood across from them as Y/N glared at her once again and Sam stood with his arms crossed. “They’re dead. All of my mom’s friends, all of y/n’s mom’s friends, their doctors, their uncles. Everyone who ever knew them, systematically wiped off the map one at a time”

“Someone went through a hell of a lot of trouble trying to cover their tracks” Y/N scoffed as she crushed the bud to her burst of cigarette in the ashtray. “Yup. Yellow Eyes Demon” Ruby deadpanned. “So, what’s your deal? You show up wherever Sam is like a creepy stalker, you know all about us, all our moms” Y/N spat accusationally, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Just trying to help," Ruby responded, her tone almost innocent. Sam gave Y/N a warning glance, silently asking her to keep her temper in check. Y/N let out a frustrated sigh, her eyes narrowing at Ruby. She didn't trust her one bit, but she couldn't deny that Ruby seemed to have information that they needed.

Y/N let out a frustrated huff, her fingers tapping against her wrist. “Help us? How?” she retorted, her voice dripping with skepticism. “I already told you, I’m just a-” Sam cut Ruby off, “Oh, right. Right. Yeah, yeah. Just a Hunter? Just some Hunter who just happened to know more about our families than we do” Sam shot back with dripping sarcasm.

Y/N clenched her fists, feeling a surge of anger rise within her for no reason whatsoever, she couldn’t figure out why she was extremely snappy but she wanted nothing more than to punch Ruby in the face, but she kept her cool, barely. "Yeah, a 'just a Hunter' who seems to know a hell of a lot more than we do" she gritted out between clenched teeth.

Sam shot her another warning glance, silently urging her to calm down and stay focused. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to control her emotions. “Just tell us who you are,” Sam said, asking Ruby, trying to remain calm. “Sam, it-” Ruby chuckled, shaking her head as Sam stalked over to her form. She was leaning against a table.

“Just tell us who you are” Y/N repeated, trying to remain calm also. “It doesn’t matter,” Ruby shook her head. "Of course it matters!" Y/N snapped out of frustration, "You know who we are, what we are, and all about our families! You know things that we don't-"

“Fine,” Ruby said calmly, cutting Y/N off mid sentence. She shut her eyes before opening them back up. Her eyes flashed over a ball of black, indicating she was a demon. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she stared at Ruby's eyes, horror and confusion coursing through her veins. Sam’s eyes widened in horror as he backed away, scrambling over to his bag for holy water. “Think twice before going for that holy water” Ruby mused,

“Give me one reason I should” Sam growled. “I’m here to help you guys” Ruby shrugged, this made Y/N snap, instantly grabbing the demon by her collar. “Like hell you are!” Y/N exclaimed, her voice laced with anger and resentment as she slammed her into the wall. Anger rose in Ruby’s veins, but she shook with fear when Y/N pulled out her knife from her jacket.

The dagger glowed fiercely in her right hand as she pressed it to Ruby’s throat. Sam stood frozen, “How the hell did you get that back? I thought you gave it to Bobby?” His voice shook. "It doesn’t matter," Y/N spat, her eyes still fixed on Ruby. A mix of anger and hatred in her eyes. “Is this some kind of fucking joke?” She growled at the demon.

“Is this some kind of fucking joke?” She growled at the demon. “God’s honest truth…or whatever” Ruby snorted, raising her right hand before dropping it. She winced as Y/N pressed the blade harder against her throat. “You know, I could kill you right here” She shot back at Y/N.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of Y/N's mouth, “I’m the one with a knife to your throat right now that could send your ass back to hell, so I'd say the advantage is mine” She grinned menacingly. “You’re a demon” Sam spat, grappling his holy water in his hand as he stalked over to Y/N and Ruby. “Don’t be such a racist” Ruby rolled her eyes, “I’m here because I want to help you. And I can, if you guys trust me”

"Trust?” Sam scoffed incredulously, holding up his holy water. “Sam, Y/N, calm down” Ruby pleaded. "Start talking. All those murders, what was the demon trying to cover up?” Sam demanded. Ruby didn’t answer so Y/N gripped her by her throat and slammed her back into the wall.

"Answer the question” Y/N ordered, her voice trembling with anger as she held the knife to the Demon's throat. "Okay, okay, okay" Ruby choked out, her voice strained. “I don’t know what he was trying to cover up.” She admitted, “What happened to our moms?” Y/N demanded as Sam shot Ruby a nasty glare. “I honestly don’t know! That’s what I’m trying to find out. All I know is that it’s about you two”

"What?” Y/N and Sam exclaimed in unison, their eyes wide with confusion and disbelief. "Why would it be about us?" Y/N demanded, her grip on Ruby loosening slightly, her expression a mix of anger and curiosity. Ruby scoffed, “Don’t you get it? It’s all about you two, what happened to your moms, what happened to their friends. They’re trying to cover up what he did to you two”

“And I wanna help you guys figure it out” Ruby added with a shrug, her eyes fixated on Y/N’s knife. “I told you to be careful with that,” She said with a dark smile. Y/N bristled at the demon's words, her grip on the knife tightening again as she pressed it harder against Ruby's throat. "Why would you wanna help us?” Sam spat.

“I have my reasons. Not all demons are the same, Sam and Y/N. Not all of us want the same thing. Me? I wanna help you from time to time. That’s all. Like right now, I’m helping you by saying that knife you’ve got…you don’t know what it’s gonna do to you” Ruby smirked. "What do you mean by that?” Sam questioned, his eyes narrowing as he clutched the cap of the holy water bottle tighter.

“She’s full of shit, Sam” Y/N snapped, narrowing her eyes at Ruby. "Am I?" Ruby sneered, trying to shake her head. "You want to believe that? Okay.“ Y/N pressed the blade harder into her throat, a small trickle of blood running down her skin.

“How can I not sense you?” Y/N asked, gritting her teeth. "Maybe because you’re not that good” Ruby mused with a smirk. Y/N fought the urge to stab the demon right then and there. So she reeled her back again, slamming her into the wall to knock the wind out of her. “How?!” Sam bellowed, throwing holy water into the demon’s face.

“Goddammit!” Ruby exclaimed, her eyes squeezed shut as the holy water burned her skin. A small smile tugged at the corner of Y/N's mouth, a twisted satisfaction in her eyes as she watched the demon's pain. “Talk!” Y/N demanded again.

Ruby grimaced, looking up at Y/N with a glare. "Fine. Let go of me first." She growled. Y/N rolled her eyes but reluctantly loosened her grip on the demon, allowing her to stand upright. Sam stood ready to strike again with the holy water.

"Talk" Y/N repeated again, her voice firm. Ruby rolled her eyes, scoffing as she peeled off her brown leather jacket. She allowed it to plop to the ground before revealing the symbol etched into her skin. It was practically burnt in, the symbol was the exact same one Y/N spotted on Envy.

Y/N and Sam stared in shock at the symbol on Ruby's arm. "What the hell is that?" Sam asked, his eyes wide with disbelief. "That..." Ruby drawled, gesturing to the symbol with her left hand, "...is a protection symbol. It hides my presence, aura, whatever the fuck you wanna call it. From people like you” She stated as she pointed to Y/N.

"You're telling me that's why I can't sense you?" Y/N demanded, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the knife tighter. "Exactly" Ruby nodded, a smug smile on her face. Y/N resisted the urge to stab her right there and then. “I don’t believe this,” Sam scoffed, shaking his head.

“Oh believe it” Ruby snarked, “And if you let me help you…heh…there’s something in it for you” Ruby whispered. “What could you possibly-” Sam scoffed but Ruby interrupted them, “I could help you save your brother. I can help you save Dean” Y/N and Sam stiffened at the mention of Dean's name.

Y/N froze. Her heart skipped a beat, and her grip on the knife faltered slightly.

____________________________________________

“Because demon, that’s why!” Dean shouted at Sam and Y/N. “Because the second you find out this Ruby chick is a demon, you go for the holy water. You don’t chat” He ridiculed the two as if they were children.

They were now back at Y/N’s safehouse, currently in the kitchen. They woke Dean and spilled the beans about Ruby’s true nature. As much as one side of Y/N’s mind screamed at her to not tell Dean about the knife’s sudden reappearance, Sam insisted, begging her to do so.

He stuck the fact in her head that in general, she wouldn’t keep these types of secrets from them. So from the knife’s sudden reappearance and Y/N’s insistence to keep it a secret from Dean of all people. It couldn’t mean anything good.

“No one was chatting, Dean. Y/N had her up against the wall with that weird ass knife. She almost looked scared!” Sam defended, “Exactly, she couldn’t do us shit even if she wanted to” Y/N aided to Sam’s defense, crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you use the damn thing and send her ass back to hell?” Dean shot back.

Y/N gritted her teeth, her eyes narrowing as she clenched her fists. "Goddammit, Dean, it's not that simple!” She exploded, her frustration boiling over. “What’s not simple about exorcising a fucking demon?!” Dean exclaimed, pushing himself up from the bed. “She said she might be able to help us out, Dean!” Sam revealed as Dean made his way over to the fridge.

“How?!” Dean snapped, opening the fridge and grabbing a beer. Sam and Y/N exchanged a skeptical look. Y/N shook her head, urging Sam not to tell Dean because knowing her boyfriend, he’d yell at them for wanting to save him from going to hell.

Sam sighed, knowing what Y/N was thinking. He knew Dean would be furious if he found out they were planning a way to save him. But deep down, he knew it was the right thing to do.

"Well?” Dean muttered, standing there with the beer in his hand, his eyes darting from Y/N's face to Sam's, waiting for one of them to say something. "We..." Sam started, his voice trembling. He glanced at Y/N, silently begging her to take over.

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before she spoke, her voice low and steady. "She told us she could help you, okay?" She began, glancing at Dean for his reaction. “Help you out of the crossroads deal” Dean was in utter disbelief, he was almost amused at how naive his brother and girlfriend were being.

“What’s wrong with you two, huh? She’s lyin’. You’ve gotta know that, don’t you?” Dean scoffed as she took a swig of his beer. “She knows what your weakness is, it’s me!” Dean shouted. "We’re not idiots, Dean" Y/N retorted, her voice laced with anger. "We know she’s a demon but she might be telling the truth." Dean let out a harsh, humorless laugh as he took a swig of his beer.

"How gullible are you really?" He sneered, shaking his head in disbelief. Y/N looked hurt by his response, it made her laugh humorlessly. Sam’s head darted up by his brother’s words, “Dean, listen." Sam tried to reason with his older brother, his words firm. “We’re desperate here man. This is your life we’re talking about.”

“What else did she say?” Dean asked, Sam and Y/N exchanged another look. Remembering Ruby’s words about their mom’s deaths being all about them. The two’s eyes went wide for a split second, both urging each other not to say a word about it.

“Guys?” Dean urged them to talk. "Not much" Sam lied, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "Nothing" Y/N said at the same time as Sam. Dean raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Nothing, okay?!” They exclaimed in unison. “For Christ’s sake, we’re not talking about trusting her. We’re talking about using her!” Y/N exclaimed as she placed her hands on her hips.

“I mean, we’re at war here, right? And we don’t know jackshit about the enemy. We don’t know where they are, what they’re doing. I mean hell, we don’t even know what the fuck they want!” Sam aided Y/N’s point. Dean’s eyes flicked between Y/N and Sam, his expression turning serious. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” He muttered in disbelief.

“Hear us out, charming.” Y/N pleaded, Dean’s face softened upon looking into her eyes. She strode over to him, taking his hands into hers. “This Ruby chick knows more than we ever will find out on our own. Now, yes, it’s a risk. We know that, but we need to take it” Y/N stated softly.

Dean let out a long, deep breath as he stared into Y/N's eyes, his gaze unwavering. His eyes dropped to their intertwined hands before looking over at his brother, who wore the signature puppy dog eye look Y/N was sporting. He looked at them with disbelief, “You guys are okay, right? I mean, are you feeling okay?” He asked Y/N and Sam.

Sam and Y/N groaned exasperated as Y/N snatched her hands away from Dean, “Yes, we’re fine. Why are you always asking that?!” Sam exclaimed, running a hand through his hair as a phone started to ring. “Because it’s my job to make sure you guys are fine” Dean retorted, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s.

Y/N rolled her eyes, letting out a scoff as they all checked their pockets. “It’s not mine,” Sam said, holding up his phone. Dean checked his pockets before shaking his head, “Nope”

“It's not mine either” Y/N said, her brows creasing in confusion as the ringing of the phone continued. “Well where the hell is it coming from?” Dean grumbled as he scanned the room. Y/N’s eyes darted to the living room, “I think it’s my dad’s” She muttered as she crossed the room and headed into the living room, “F/N’s?” Dean questioned, confused.

He followed behind, leaning against the doorframe as Y/N crouched, unzipping her other duffel bag and digging through it. Sam stood behind his brother, his eyes watching her. After a second of rummaging through the bag, she retrieved her father's old flip phone. “Yeah, I keep his phone charger up in case any of his old contacts call” she confirmed, holding up the ringing phone. She flipped it open, pressing it to her ear, “Hello?”

Y/N’s brow furrowed in concern as she held the phone in her hand, her eyes darting to the brothers. Dean’s eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as they silently listened. “Uh, no this is not Edgar Cayce. This is his daughter….” She lied fluidly as she shrugged at the boys.

“Oh- nonono, don’t call the police. I’ll handle this myself. Thanks. You know, can you just, uh…? Can you just lock it back up for me? Great-“ She cleared her throat before gesturing for Sam or Dean to get a paper and pen with her free hand. “Uh- Dad was always bad at writing stuff down, do you have the address so I can write it down?”

Sam handed Y/N a piece of paper and pen, watching her intently as she wrote the address down. “Uh-huh…right. Thanks a lot” She muttered into the phone before hanging it up and turning around to face the boys. “Did my dad ever tell you he kept a container at a storage place?” Y/N asked Dean with a raised eyebrow. “What?” Dean gaped, confused.

“Outside of Buffalo?” She added as Sam also gaped, “No way” Sam muttered, shocked, “Yeah. And someone just broke into it” Y/N nodded, tossing Dean the phone. Dean caught the phone with ease, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he looked at Y/N. “Your dad had more secrets than I thought” He said with a small scoff.

“Apparently” Y/N muttered, crossing her arms over her chest “But the question is” Sam began, a curious look in his eyes, “What was in there?”

____________________________________________

Black Rock, New York

“Man” Dean chuckled to himself as he shook his head. The trio were now in an elevator to the storage facility, heading up to the room F/N had. “What?” Sam asked, “Just F/N. You know? Him and dad with their secrets. Spend all this time with them and it’s like we barely knew em” Dean snorted. Y/N chuckled in agreement as the elevator came to a stop.

“Well, we’re about to learn something” She said, leaning off the wall as the boys lifted the shaft door up. All three of them stepped out, their footsteps echoing through the hall. They started walking forwards, passing countless other storage units. Y/N lead them, pulling out the key from her pocket as she stopped in front of the one labeled “159”.

She inserted the key into the lock before twisting it and opening the door. In front of them was the dark storage room, filled with countless boxes. They all fished out their flashlights, shining it through as they entered the storage room. Sam then shone his light on the ground, his eyes were met with a large devils trap. “No demons allowed” He muttered as Dean pointed out the bloodied footsteps. “Blood”

Y/N crouched down, shining her light from side to side. “Check this out, fellas” She pointed out the tripwire at the entrance. “Damn, your dad was prepared” Dean muttered as knelt down next to Y/N, following the tripwire with his light. He chuckled to himself, a grin forming on his face as he stood back up. “Classic F/N” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Whoever broke in here got tagged” Sam said aloud. “Daddy dearest” Y/N muttered sarcastically with a roll of her eyes, ignoring the painful stab she felt in her heart at the thought of her father keeping this a secret from her. Dean frowned when he noticed the twinge of angst in her tone. Instead, she focused back on the job.

“I got two sets of boot treads here, this was a two man job” Y/N stated as she stood back up, Dean’s eyes followed the direction her flashlight was shining, following the footprint. “And our friend with the buckshot in him, looks like he kept walking” he added, his eyes following the path of the footprints as he continued further into the storage room. Sam and Y/N followed behind him.

“So what’s the deal? You think Dad and F/N would do work here or something?” Sam inquired, “Living the high life as usual” Dean snorted, he shook his head in amusement when his eyes landed on the skeleton of a gator head. Dean’s eyes landed on a trophy, he picked it up, dusting it off, “1995”

Sam’s head darted over to him, immediately recognizing the trophy. “No way” He gasped, taking it from Dean. “That’s my division championship soccer trophy. I can’t believe dad kept this” He chuckled as he dusted it off, “Yes, that’s probably the closest you ever came to being a boy” Dean snorted in amusement as he eyes landed on a familiar gun.

“Oh, wow. This is my first sawed-off” He grinned, taking it up before turning to Y/N. “I made it myself in sixth grade” He bragged, laughing as he cocked the gun. Sam chuckled as Y/N let out an amused laugh. “Of course you’ve been making guns since sixth grade” She mumbled as they continued walking. She paused when her light landed on something.

“Hey, check this out” She said as she crouched, shining her light behind a pile of boxes. A bright smile stretched across her face when she saw a trophy from Sioux Falls High for MVP Varsity Cheerleader with her name engraved on it. Y/N picked the trophy up, delicately dusting it off as she stared down at the plaque with a smile. “Dad even kept my MVP cheerleading trophy” She chuckled.

Sam chuckled as he and Dean peered over her shoulder, their eyes glancing over the trophy. “You still got that uniform?” Dean teased, a smirk on his face. That earned him a playful gasp and smack to his chest from Y/N as Sam groaned dramatically, “Kill me now” He gagged.

“I thought I was hot in it” Y/N retorted, a smirk on her face, which Dean was quick to agree to, “Oh, you still are in it” He winked, to which Sam groaned aloud once again.

Dean and Y/N laughed as she knelt down again to rummage through a box. Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise as she pulled some photo albums out, opening it up. “Oh my gosh” She muttered as her eyes scanned over a few pictures.

Sam and Dean were quick to crouch down, peering over her shoulder to get a look at the photos. Y/N held a particular picture up. Dean’s breath hitched at the sight of the photograph, his eyes widening slightly as Sam stared at it in shock.

In the picture were Y/N, Dean, Sam, F/N and John. They stood with their arms wrapped around one another, smiling brightly at the camera. Their faces were much younger and more youthful, filled with genuine happiness. “Wow,” Dean muttered, staring at the photo in shock. “When was this taken?” Sam asked aloud.

“1987” Y/N stated as she flipped through the book. It led straight up to 1999 with various pictures. Sam and Dean were glued to the photos as Y/N flipped through them. “Wow, look at you guys” Dean chuckled as an old picture of five-year-old Sam and Y/N dressed up for Halloween as Wonder Woman and Batman. Their outfits looked homemade, the trio snorted in amusement at the picture.

“And what the hell are you supposed to be?” Sam questioned with a chuckle, pointing at a picture of a 9-year-old Dean, dressed in the most hideous of outfits. “A pimp..?” Y/N mumbled, letting out a loud laugh as Sam and Dean immediately burst out into laughter.

“I was Superman! Bobby made me that outfit!” Dean defended. “He made you that?!” Sam practically wheezed, clutching his stomach in laughter as Y/N let out hysterical laughter. She flipped the page again, her jaw dropping when she found their prom pictures. “No way!” She laughed as Sam covered his face in shame.

“Oh my God, I look like a fetus” He groaned at the picture of him hopping up on Y/N’s back for a piggy back ride, all while in his white tux and Y/N wore her black dress. The piggy back ride was per Dean’s request, just for his own shits and gigs.

Dean bursted out laughing as he pointed at the multiple pictures of Sam cringing and screaming because Y/N was jumping up and down and he was so scared she would drop him, “I remember this, she said you weighed like a baby gorilla!” Dean cackled, wiping his tears away from his eyes from laughing so much. Y/N’s face started to heat up when she looked at her picture with Dean.

Dean wore his black tux, his shaggy hair neatly slicked back. Their bodies were flush against each other. His eyes locked onto hers, a hint of longing and desire flashing through them. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph” She muttered as she traced over the picture.

“You wanted me sooo bad” Dean teased, poking his girlfriend's cheek, a twinge of cockiness in his tone. Y/N’s head whipped to his direction, playfully smacking away his hand, “Hey! You wanted me just as much, shut up” She defended with a grumble, Dean snickered in amusement though he didn’t deny it.

Y/N shook her head as she continued flipping, her eyes widening when she landed on a picture of her and Xander in 2001. She was sitting on his lap on the porch of her safehouse. She bullied Sam into taking the picture of them kissing so she could keep it for memories.

She quickly snapped the book shut before Dean could see it, “Okay! Enough of that” She said quickly, tossing it back into the box. Sam chuckled, a smirk on his face as he watched Y/N frantically slam the book shut. “Why did you slam that so fast?” Dean questioned, his eyebrows furrowing in curiosity as he peered up at her.

Y/N’s internally panicked but played it off like it was nothing. “Nothing, nothing. Just say a spider coming up the spine” She said casually, “Oh, what’s that?” She pointed to a grated gate to the back of the room. Changing the subject. It was chained and locked prior but the lock was busted open, presumably with a sledgehammer.

Dean’s head snapped over to where she was pointing, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the busted open lock. “What the hell?” He muttered, standing up as he approached it. Sam and Y/N followed close behind. Sam reached over and pushed the door inwards, a loud creaking from the metal echoed through the room. It was filled with all sorts of arsenal.

Their mouths fell agape as they peered around the room. “Son of a fucking bitch” “Jesus fucking Christ” Dean and Y/N gasped in unison, they looked like kids in a candy store. Sam let out a loud whistle, “Holy shit”. Dean was the first to venture in, a grin spread across his face as he looked around. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me” He practically laughed in excitement as he picked up an old Colt .45 off the table.

“Look at this, they had land mines” Y/N pointed out as she scanned the area. “Which they didn’t take,” Dean pointed out as he placed the gun down. He and Y/N knowing shared a look. “Or the guns…I guess they knew what they were after, huh?” She added as she turned to Sam. The younger Winchester wore a skeptical look on his face as he shone his light on some old wooden boxes.

“Hey Y/N/N, check these out. You see these symbols?” Y/N made her way over to him, squinting her eyes as she looked at the boxes. “Yeah, that’s binding magic” She said aloud, pointing at one of the symbols. Sam and Y/N exchanged a wide eyed look as Dean looked confused, “These are curse boxes” Sam said aloud,

“Curse boxes. Aren’t those supposed to keep the evil mojo in, right? Kinda like the pandora deal?” Dean questioned. “Yeah, yeah. They’re built to contain the power of the cursed object.” Y/N nodded in confirmation. “Dad’s journal did mention a whole bunch of stuff, you know? Dangerous hexed items, fetishes. He never did say where they’d end up” Dean stated as Sam and Y/N nodded.

“Yeah, well this must be their toxic-waste dump,” Sam deadpanned. He narrowed his eyes at an empty space. It had dust around it, the center was dust-free. Indicating a box was previously there. Y/N noticed this and brought her finger up, pressing it to the dust. “One box is missing” Sam pointed out, bringing his own finger up to the empty space before dusting it off simultaneously with Y/N.

“Great,” She muttered sarcastically. “Well, maybe they didn’t open it” Dean said hopefully with a shrug, smiling awkwardly at Sam and Y/N. Sam gave him a look that clearly said “really?” As Y/N let out a scoff. “When has our luck ever been that good, babe?” She pointed out, patting his shoulder.

____________________________________________

The Impala and Harley pulled up to the beat down apartment complex in quite a sketchy neighborhood. Parking side by side with their respective drivers holding the wheel and handlebars. Y/N flicked up the visor on her helmet to get a better look at the car they saw on the tape back at the storage facility after greasing the palms of the security guard to get the footage.

“Connecticut. Last three digits, 8-8-0” She said the plate number out loud as she turned to the Winchesters. “Yup. That’s it” Sam confirmed as Dean clicked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Should’ve blacked out their plates before they parked in-front of the security camera” He snickered.

“Damn morons” Y/N muttered as she pushed her visor back down. She let out a chuckle as she looked over at the complex. “Nice place” She deadpanned, peeling her helmet off. “If you’re looking to get shot, that is” Dean added with sass as he shut the Impala off.

The trio clambered out of their rides, staring at the shady place. Sam looked less than pleased as his eyes landed on the cracked door that looked like it was practically hanging by its hinges by the entrance. “What an absolute shithole” He muttered as Dean shut his driver door, heading round to the trunk with Y/N.

-

Y/N was now kneeling in-front of the door to the apartment of the suspects from the video, trying her best to make the least amount of noise to pick the lock. It sounded like the two were inside so Sam and Dean cocked their guns behind her.

They stayed close behind her, keeping guard with their weapons readied and at the ready as she picked the lock to the door. It didn’t take too long before the lock clicked open and it slightly creaked as she pushed it in.

Dean and Sam were immediately on high alert when they heard movement from inside the apartment. “I can’t lose…I mean, really. I- I can’t lose” Wayne said as he picked up his drink from the table. Y/N whipped out her own gun as they trudged down quietly the dusty hall to the apartment.

“I mean, this thing really works. You know what I’m saying?” Wayne told Grossman as he picked up the cursed rabbit's foot. Sam, Dean and Y/N exchanged a look as they pressed their backs to the wall, “I’ll tell you one thing, there’s no way in fuckin’ hell, we’re handing it over to that stuck-up bitch now. Not after all we’ve been through” Wayne insisted.

“Mhm” Grossman agreed, Wayne smiled as the two men got up from the couch. “Let go, huh? Let’s get out of here. Let’s go have some fu-” Wayne didn’t get to finish his words when Dean made himself known, “Freeze, freeze! Nobody move” He bellowed with clear authority as they all emerged from the corridor.

Wayne and Grossman were frozen in absolute shock and terror as Y/N and Sam stood by Dean’s sides, guns aimed directly at them. They were completely outnumbered; and it clearly showed by the panicked looks on the two men’s faces.

“Don’t move. Don’t move!” Sam commanded. “What is this?!” Wayne demanded, fear potent in his voice as they held their hands up. “Stop and give us the box!” Y/N shouted as she inched towards Wayne, “And please tell me that you didn’t-”

“Oh, they did” Sam interrupted her words, nodding his head towards the opened curse box on the table. Y/N audibly groaned with annoyance as Dean’s eye twitched. “You opened it?!” He growled before grabbing Wayne by his collar and backing him up into the wall, pressing the barrel of his gun to his throat.

“Uhh! Are you guys cops?!” Wayne groaned, “Huh?!” Dean glared at him, “Are you guys cops?!” He asked again, panicked, “What was in the box?!” Y/N demanded as she trudged over to Dean, pointing her gun straight to the middle of Wayne’s forehead. Wayne breathed heavily as his eyes flickered over to the table.

The cursed rabbit’s foot rested perfectly in the open for taking. Their eyes moved over to the table, “Oh, was that it? It was, wasn’t it?” Dean asked, his attention now on the table as Y/N kept her gaze on Wayne. “What was that thing?” He muttered, Wayne took this opening to smack Dean’s gun away from his throat.

Causing him to accidentally pistol whip his unsuspecting girlfriend across her nose. “Fuck!” Y/N cursed as her hands instinctively went to her nose, dropping her gun in the process to stop the blood from spilling out from the wound.

Her gun dropping on the ground caused a bullet to go off, ricocheting around the room three times before the same bullet narrowly grazed Sam’s hand, resulting in him dropping his gun with a painful hiss. Almost as if it was….dumb luck.

They all instinctively covered their head, except for Y/N, who was nursing her nose. The bullet died, narrowly missing Dean and hitting a nearby lamp. Sam was dumbfounded, until he realized Wayne’s friend, Grossman, was eyeing Y/N’s discarded gun on the ground. He gritted his teeth as he tried, retrieve it, only to get pushed by Grossman and into his brother, their backs hitting each other.

Dean’s accidental back blow from his brother, resulted in him toppling over onto Y/N. The two lovers went crashing into a table with heavy grunts, as the rabbits foot went flying into the air and onto the ground. “Sorry!…AAHH!!” Sam apologized, only to get tackled by Grossman.

Dean’s body was somehow tangled between Y/N’s legs from the fall, his upper body pressing into her inner section. “Motherfucker, you’re heavy! Get off, you’re crushing my vagina!”

“Sorry, sorry” Dean mumbled as he tried to untangle himself from between Y/N’s legs. Dean grunted as he got up off of her, looked over at Sam and Grossman who were in a scuffle on the ground.

Wayne was slowly inching towards Sam’s gun when Y/N tried to sit up, “Oh no you don’t!” Dean attempted to reach for it, only for Wayne to retrieve it. Comedically whacking the elder Winchester across the face, causing him to grunt and fall once more on top of Y/N.

Y/N winced as her still bleeding nose hit the carpet, “Oh sweet baby Jesus…” She mumbled as Dean muttered another groggy ‘sorry’.

Meanwhile, Grossman was strangling the younger Winchester. His head was beginning to get hazy when he realized the cursed rabbit's foot was just fingertips away. Desperation kicked in and Sam reached for it, retrieving it within a matter of seconds.

Suddenly, a rush of adrenaline took him over once he had the rabbit's foot in possession. So he yanked Grossman’s hands off of his throat before lifting his knee between them, kicking him in the mid section.

The single kick sent Grossman flying a few feet into the air, landing across the room. “Dean! Y/N!” Sam shouted as he scrambled to his feet, “I got it” He held up the rabbit's foot, as Y/N helped up a groggy Dean, still weak from the slight blood loss.

“No you don’t” The cocking of a gun caught his attention, Wayne held Sam’s gun towards him. Dean’s eyes widened as tears welled up in Y/N’s. “No” She winced. Sam braced himself for impending death by his own gun, only for when Wayne pulled the trigger. The gun got jammed.

Dean took his chance and pushed himself to his feet, in an attempt to snatch the gun from Wayne, who was repeatedly trying to fire the jammed gun. Faith seemed to step in and a panicked Wayne ended up tripping on his own feet and into the couch. The couch went toppling over, rendering Wayne unconscious with a blow to his head.

Sam and Dean shared a surprised look as Y/N shouted, “Sam!” To gain his attention, upon seeing Grossman attempt to use the bookshelf to pull himself up and shoot Sam. But the bookshelf came down onto Grossman, resulting in the gun he had prior in his possession, being launched into the air.

Sam caught the gun one handed with ease as Grossman fell to the ground with a grunt, falling unconscious with one last book to his head. Everyone looked disheveled and confused, Dean and Y/N’s heads went from the unconscious man to Sam. “That was a lucky break” Y/N groaned as she clutched her nose.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Dean asked softly, looking a little shaken from the strange set of events. Y/N nodded before wiping some blood away with her thumb, the metallic substance now staining her cream colored T-shirt. “Yeah, I’m alright” Y/N assured, giving his arm a light squeeze as Sam trotted over, still clenching the now cursed rabbit's foot in his hand.

“Is that a rabbit's foot?” Y/N raised a brow as Sam lifted the foot to get a better look. “I think it is” He responded as he furrowed his brows. Dean looked equally flabbergasted, “Huh” He muttered before turning to Y/N again to get a better look at her busted nose.

-

The Impala and Harley were now parked outside of a diner, Y/N had sunglasses on along with two cotton swabs sticking up her nose. Her head was tilted back, resting on the seat in the back as Sam sat in front, trying to find anything about the rabbit’s foot from John’s journal.

Dean emerged from the convenience store next to the diner with a plastic bag in hand. “I’m not finding anything on it in Dad’s journal” Sam piped up as Dean clambered back into the driver's seat with the convenience store bag. “Good grief” Y/N murmured, still pinching her nose with two fingers.

Dean nodded as he pulled out a Gatorade, a bag of frozen peas and a pack of smokes. Handing it to Y/N. “I think I got everything you need to help reduce the swelling” he explained as she sat up straight, letting out a slight hiss as she took the items before dropping the bag onto her lap. “You’re a saint, sweetie” Y/N mumbled with a weak smile before taking a sip of the bottle.

“Yeah yeah, whatever” Dean huffed with a sarcastic tone, but his voice held no trace of hostility “Just trying to keep your pretty little face in tact” She rolled her eyes with a scoff as she pressed the peas to her nose but there was a tinge of a smile playing on her face.

Dean then took out the last item from the bag, a bunch of scratch offs. He smirked as he handed it to Sam. “Dean, come on” The younger Winchester scoffed with disapproval. “What?” Dean asked exasperated. “Hey, that was my gun he was pointing at your head. My gun don’t jam, so that was a lucky break” Dean defended as Y/N snorted from the back seat.

Thinking of an innuendo from Dean’s words, only to groan in pain again from the snort which was painful to do.

“That’s what you get” Dean shot back with a wink, only to receive a playful middle finger from his girlfriend. “Not to mention them taking themselves out, also a lucky break” She added. Dean nodded in agreement, shoving the scratch offs in his brother’s hand. “Here. Scratch one”

Sam snorted, rolling his eyes. “Come on, little Winchester. Scratch and win” Y/N urged as she tossed the peas beside her, digging into her pocket for a coin. Sam sighed as he accepted the coin, Y/N dropping it into his palm. “Dean, Y/N. It’s gotta be cursed somehow” Sam mumbled as he scratched at one of the tickets. “Otherwise Dad and F/N wouldn’t have locked it up”

He then handed the ticket back to Dean who did the math quickly in his head, his jaw dropping. “$1200. You just won $1200” He gaped. “No fucking way” Y/N exclaimed as looked over Dean’s shoulder to peer at the ticket. Sam’s jaw dropped also as Dean laughed, “Whoo!!!” He exclaimed celebratory as he and Y/N high-fived.

“I don’t know, man. That doesn’t seem that cursed to me” Dean smirked, handing his brother another ticket. Sam wore a stoic expression, snatching the ticket from his brother. “Lighten up, dude. Maybe it’s a lucky rabbit's foot, not cursed” Y/N suggested as Sam began to scratch another ticket. “Well, that’s a hell of a lot of luck” Dean muttered, but a smirk still played on his face.

-

Dean was practically giggling to himself, laying out all the winning lotto tickets on the hood of the Impala while Y/N spoke on the phone with Bobby, who was reprimanding Sam. She leaned against her bike, which was parked next to Dean’s car as Sam paced infront of her. “Sammy, calm down” Y/N tried to ease his tension.

“Look, Bobby, we didn’t know” Sam defended as he stopped in front of her. The phone was on speaker but Dean was too distracted by the tickets to hear the conversation. “You touched it? Damn it, Sam” Bobby exclaimed as he held up the rabbit's foot. “Well, Dad never told us about this thing. I mean, you know about his storage place in Black Rock?” Y/N shot back.

“His lockup? Yeah, I knew. Hell, I built those curse boxes for ‘em” Bobby confirmed as Sam’s eyes spotted something shiny on the ground. “Look, you have got a serious problem. That rabbit's foot ain’t no dime-store notion” Bobby warned them as Sam knelt down and pushed the newspaper side. Underneath was a gold watch. He lifted it up and showed Y/N, who’s jaw dropped as Bobby said.

“It’s real Hoodoo. Old World stuff” Bobby explained as Sam turned to show Dean the gold watch, raising it to the air. “Awesome” Dean mouthed in awe. “Made by a Baton Rouge conjure woman about a hundred years ago” Bobby told them. “It’s a hell of a luck charm” Y/N muttered, “It’s not a luck charm. It’s a curse. She made it to kill people, kids” Bobby exclaimed.

“What?!” Y/N exclaimed as Sam looked equally shocked at the revelation. “Yeah. See, you touch it, you own it. You own it, sure, you get a run of good luck to beat the devil. But you lose it, that luck turns. It turns so bad that you’re dead inside a week” Bobby explained.

“Well, so I won’t lose it, Bobby,” Sam assured him, “Everybody loses it!” Bobby exclaimed, “Well, then how do we break the curse?” Y/N countered as Sam shoved it into his pocket, “I don’t know if you can. Let me look through my library and make some calls. Just sit tight” Bobby muttered in frustration.

“Thanks, Bobby” Y/N muttered as Sam paced over to his brother. “Oh, and Y/N” Bobby added, she then took the phone off of the speaker and pressed it to her ear. “Yeah?” She asked, “That knife you gave me, I think I lost it. I’ve been trying to do my best to look it up but I keep coming up empty” He told her lowly.

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, part of her mind was yelling at her to tell Bobby that it appeared in her bag but the other part was screaming to not say a word. Her mind was spinning trying to come up with a response but was coming up blank.

“Oh, yeah?” She asked slowly, trying to keep her voice neutral so that Dean and Sam wouldn’t get suspicious. There was a beat of silence before Bobby exhaled slowly on the other end of the line. “Yeah, it sucks. I think I’d have luck finding a needle in a haystack” Y/N forced out a short snort.

“Well, I guess that’s better than finding out if something was wrong with it. Don’t stress it, Bobby” She told him, her eyes darting over to the boys. “Yeah, I guess so” He responded, he didn’t sound very convinced but didn’t say anything else on the matter. “I’ll talk to ya later” He mumbled. “Yeah, alright. Bye” She muttered, hanging up the phone.

“Babe, we’re up 15 grand” Dean cheered as he waved the tickets. Sam frowned along with Y/N, he still hadn’t told Dean that the rabbit's foot was anything but good luck.

-

“Don’t worry, Bobby’ll find a way to break it” Dean assured Sam and Y/N as he opened the door to the diner. Allowing Y/N in first. “I’m sure he will” Y/N agreed, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder giving it a reassuring squeeze as she walked into the diner which made her realise how hungry she was.

Sam still looked worried but Dean was trying to make the best of the situation. “Until then, I say we hit Vegas, pull a Rain Man. You can be Rain Man” Dean said excitedly. “I like it” Y/N added with a short laugh as they approached the host. “Look, we just lay low until Bobby calls back, okay?” Sam insisted before turning to the host.

“Hi, uh, table for three, please?” He said politely. The host wore a wide smile before shouting, “Congratulations!!” He then pulled an alarm, causing a bell to ring throughout the restaurant. “Exciting, I know” Dean muttered as he and Y/N shared a confused look and Sam looked around the restaurant with an expression that said, ‘What in the holy fuck is going on?’

The host then presented Sam with a large check, “You are the one millionth guest of the Biggerson’s Restaurant Family!” The trio held up the large check with faces that said, ‘the fuck?’ The entire staff emerged from the back with cameras, snapping pictures of the three. Suddenly they all started blowing party horns as everyone cheered.

Yellow, red and orange balloons came falling from the ceiling along with streamers and onto them.

Y/N peered over the check to read the prize, “Dude, free food. We’re getting free food for a year! Way to go, Sam!” She cheered excitedly. Sam cringed in discomfort as Dean and Y/N smiled widely for the camera, mainly at the fact that they could stuff their asses for free. Not caring whether the food was terrible or not.

-

Now sat at a booth, Dean was shoveling his third bowl of ice cream down his throat while next to him, Y/N was gnawing at her second cookie. “Bobby’s right. This lore goes way back. Pure Hoodoo” Sam confirmed, sitting across from them as he shut his laptop. “You can’t just cut one off any rabbit” He began. “Hmm” Dean hummed.

“It has to be in a cemetery, under a full moon, on a Friday the 13th.” Sam finished as Dean placed his bowl down on the table, “I say from now on..we only go to places with Biggersons” He suggested, Y/N smiled in response as Dean started groaning from a brain freeze, clutching his forehead.

Sam chuckled in amusement, “Serves you right, I told you to eat slower” Y/N teased through her mouthful of cookies as she placed a soothing hand on his shoulder while he hunched over the table, shaking his head. “Usually you’re begging me eat faster” Dean shot back with a wide grin.

“That’s a different type of faster” Y/N responded with a wicked smile. “Yeah I could've done without hearing that” Sam muttered with a grossed out face and a groan, causing the couple to laugh in response. “You know, Sam, you should really try their pie” Y/N joked, still munching down on her cookie. Sam frowned slightly, shaking his head, “No, I’m good” He replied reluctantly.

A very attractive waitress suddenly approached their table, her short skirt riding up slightly. “Can I freshen you up?” She said in a sultry tone, gesturing to Sam’s mug. “Yeah, yeah. Sure” Sam muttered, avoiding eye-contact with her. The waitress flashed him a wide beaming smile. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how hot she was, her eyes roaming over the woman.

The waitress smirked at the psychic, taking her attention off the mug just for a second. Only for a little bit of coffee to spill from the mug, onto the table. The woman gasped before placing the mug on the table, “Oh gosh. I’m so sorry” She exclaimed, grabbing a rag which was tucked into the pocket of her apron. Y/N leaned back into her chair, watching as the waitress bent over to clean up the coffee.

Her seductive smile towards Sam didn’t falter. “Oh, no don’t worry. It’s okay, I got it” Sam assured her, attempting to help her clean the mess up. “It’s no trouble, really” The waitress giggled with a bright smile. Dean looked almost starstruck, his jaw slightly hanging as he stared at the waitress.

“Okay” Sam mumbled, clearing his throat. “Sorry about that” The waitress said as she wiped up the coffee, purposely leaning in to swipe the rabbit's foot from Sam. She pickpocketed him so quickly, none of them noticed due to how they were all shamelessly ogling her as she walked off, her hips swaying with every step she took as she looked back at them with a sultry smirk.

Y/N was the first to snap out of it, “You’re both taken man, quit staring” She grumbled, firstly kicking Dean in his shin and then Sam’s shin underneath the table. Both brothers flinched simultaneously, hissing from the kick she sent to them with her boot. “Ow! What the hell, woman?” Dean exclaimed, rubbing his shin.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her boyfriend, “You were eye-raping her” She said in an annoyed tone. “And you weren’t?” Dean retorted with a huff. Y/N opened her mouth to retaliate, to call him a hypocrite but quickly clamped her jaw shut when she realised that he was right. “Hey, I have no idea what you're talking about” She denied hotly, crossing her arms across her chest. Dean barked out a laugh at her response.

“Bullshit, you were checking her out more than I was” He teased her. The two weren’t actually mad at each other, however. They were quite secure in their relationship, for it being new, you’d think there would be a lot of insecurity between them. But truth be told, Y/N would rather stick a hot poker in between her legs than be with someone other than Dean. It goes both ways.

“Fine, I’ll admit that I looked at her for longer than appropriate but you were staring like a perv” Y/N replied in fake annoyance. Part of her was still a little jealous, even if she wasn’t actually annoyed. “What can I say? It’s in my DNA” He said with a shrug and a smirk. Y/N rolled her eyes with a soft smile. “You’re an ass,” She muttered.

“Yeah but I’m your ass,” He reminded her. Sam fake gagged at them from across the table as he shook his head, earning middle fingers from both Dean and Y/N. Dean stuck up one of his fingers, his other hand resting behind Y/N’s backrest of the booth while Y/N stuck up both her fingers at the younger Winchester.

Sam simply cackled in return, picking up his hot mug of coffee. Which ended up slipping from his grasp, onto the table and began dripping onto his pants. “Oh! Oh, shit. Ah” Sam panicked, quickly pushing himself up from his side of the booth.

Only to accidentally bump into a waiter behind him, who was carrying a tray of food. The array of food scattered across the ground as the waiter fell back first, due to Sam’s ‘structured’ build. Dean and Y/N were agape at the sight. The waiter groaned as he sat upright on the floor, covered from head-to-toe in food.

Sam looked mortified as he muttered a quick and embarrassed “I’m so sorry”. He then turned to his family with a similar expression, Dean and Y/N shared a confused look. “How was that good?” Dean muttered, Sam quickly dug into his pocket. Only to come up short, now realizing they had been conned by that waitress and the rabbit’s foot was now gone.

The trio let out collective groans when they came to the same realization. “Son of a bitch” “Jesus Christ” Dean and Y/N exclaimed in unison as they all made a break for it to the door of the diner, they all frantically looked around for the black haired waitress.

When they realized she was nowhere in sight, they began running towards their vehicle. Sam then stumbled and tripped comically with a loud, “Whoa!” Resulting in Dean and Y/N freezing in their tracks. Sam grunted on the floor from his faceplant as his brother said, “Wow, you suck”

Y/N shot him a slight glare as she and Dean rushed over to help Sam up. When they got to his side, they each grabbed one of his arms and pulled him to his feet. Both his knees were cut open, the fall causing his pants to rip. “So what, now your luck turns bad?” Y/N asked as Sam painfully dusted himself off.

“I guess” He responded as Y/N wiped the dust off of his face. “I wonder how bad” Dean muttered. Sam gave his brother an unamused frown, “Please don’t say that” He winced.

_______________________________________________

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Xoxo

[yellowjacketsfashion]

You might have already answered this at some point, but do you have a favorite outfit from the show?

I actually haven’t been asked this before! I love so many outfits from the show it’s so hard to decide but I narrowed it down to two per season (one for each timeline).

Season 1:

Jackie’s Party Outfit

In my mind the party outfits are some of the most iconic looks from the show and overall they’re some of my favorites. Jackie’s look specifically stands out to me though because of the velvet dress and pink jean jacket. It’s just such a cool outfit and I was honestly devastated to find out that the dress was custom made for the show as I would’ve liked to get one.

Shauna’s Reunion Outfit

The reunion outfits are also pretty iconic and Shauna’s is my favorite. Story wise the dress is also pretty important as it symbolizes the reconciliation between her and Jeff.

Season 2:

Natalie’s hunter outfit

The hunter outfit is one of the first outfits we see of the second season and in the same vein as the others I talked about, I’d have to say it’s pretty iconic. It introduces us to the makeshift way the Yellowjackets are starting to create warmer outfits during the winter and I especially like the deer pelt and plane seat belts.

Lottie’s Sacrifice Outfit

This outfit only has limited screen time but I don’t know, there’s something about it that’s so captivating. Throughout season 2 Lottie has a lot of amazing outfits but this one is my absolute favorite. I love the red color and how it emulates her decision to offer the wilderness blood as a sacrifice.

Honorable Mentions:

[37sommz-archive]

✼. VICTORIOUS | 2018.

CH. 03. NOW PLAYING: tio by zayn [fluff, suggestive]. ✼.⠀summary: michaela keeps winning, 2.2k. ✼.⠀view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request.

✼.⠀JULY 01, 2018 — spielberg, austria

“Though it is dry here in Austria, it seems as if the Sommer Rain will never let up.”

-

“She won in Baku, in Barcelona, and in France. Now, here in Austria, across the finish line, it’s Michaela Sommers who secures her fourth win this season.”

-

“They called for her to answer to the legend of Lella ‘76, and she has responded in kind. Michaela Sommers extends her lead in the Formula 2 Championship with double wins in both races here this weekend.”

-

“The current placements, as they stand, are Sommers in first, Russell in second, and Norris in third.”

-

“Mickey!” The trance Michaela found herself in was quickly broken by the sound of her nickname pouring from the left of her. 

“They’re all out for the formation lap… headphones?” 

Shaking herself from her staring at the track, her hands fell to the red headphones thrust out to her by a Ferrari engineer—one whom she couldn’t quite remember the name of—and lifted them to cover her ears. Her feet bringing her closer to the large monitors adorning the garage fell to a stop as the crackle of Sebastian Vettel’s voice echoed in her ears. As he cleared the radio check, her arms crossed over her chest; the yellow of the Ferrari logo contrasting with the black of her team jacket. 

Her duties to the team as a reserve driver demanded every bit of her attention the minute she stepped out of her red Prema car, her mind immediately shifting to the red Ferrari cars of Vettel and Raikkonen as they took their second-row places. Eager to learn from the two veteran drivers, Michaela had found herself tagging along to every meeting possible. She leaned in closer when they complained about the back tires or the steering and her eyes tracked their wings as they drew in and out of the breadth of Hamilton and Verstappen. Her focus on the twists and turns of the Austrian Grand Prix only relieved itself once she saw Kimi and Sebastian pass the checkered flag—second and third, respectively. 

As they always did at the end of the race, her hands shook from the concentrated energy rushing through her body. One of the engineers—she knew his name, he was much friendlier than most of his coworkers—nudged her shoulder to tease her about the tremble. 

“You shake as if you had raced yourself.” His eyes sparkled in amusement as he spoke to her—they always did, as Kimi had once casually pointed out to her. 

“It’s all the anticipation,” She easily responded. “I wish I was the one driving.” 

He chose not to respond this time, his cheeks taking on a blush that deterred his speaking. 

In the few months she had spent in and around the Ferrari garage Kimi had taken to pointing out every person he perceived to have any romantic inclination towards the Australian. She would roll her eyes, mutter something about types, and hope he would let it go. If he noticed her discomfort he never commented on it, simply shifting the topic to one about engines or advice for her next race. 

Sebastian was much different. Taking a liking for teasing the Australian every chance he got, Michaela had previously likened him to a friend’s older brother. Effortlessly relaxed with seemingly nothing else to do but find the humor in every situation presented to him. Blue eyes would meet her brown ones from across the room, corners crinkling in mischief before she could fully process the situation before her. 

In those few months that the three of them had shared gentle conversation, Sebastian had regularly urged Michaela to take in every moment for what it was. To relax in the company of others who understood her anticipation to hurtle down a gravel track at 200 miles per hour. 

Kimi would rest an icy hand on her shoulder, squeezing once then twice in a signal. He would lean over to whisper, “Your shoulders are too high”, before retreating to whatever shadow he had occupied in the distance. 

She knew they meant well; both champions in their own right and well aware of her own ambitions to hoist the winner’s cup over her head. But Michaela has never been relaxed. 

She doesn’t think she ever will.

✼.⠀JULY 07, 2018 — silverstone, england

The champagne underneath Michaela’s shoes squeaked as it stuck to the linoleum beneath her. Wincing at the sound, her hands steadied themselves on the pristine corner leading to the Prema quarters. Roaring cheers of “Brava!” and “Complimenti!” continued to ring in her ears as the hall grew quieter, drifting away from the continued celebrations of the scarlet team. Her head was swimming in victory and her mouth was cotton-balled from the neverending Italian phrases of gratitude and appreciation. 

Finally reaching the changeroom, her race suit pulled together at her waist fell to the floor with the softest of thuds. Incapable of taking anything slowly, Michaela’s hands rushed to rid herself of the champagne-soaked fireproofs. Swapping the red of the Prema suit for the red of her Ferrari polo and her favorite blue jeans, she exited the stall with a gentle sigh. Passing her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off her tanned face. Catching a glimpse of the annoying mismatch in shades from one side of her shoulder to the other, those eager hands brushed through the controlled chaos of her honey-blonde bleached hair. 

Rushing back down the hall to Ferrari’s garage, her eyes spotted the lights of a camera crew standing in between herself and the entrance. 

Shit.

The gentlest of forced smiles fastened to the corners of her dry lips as she attempted to sneak past. Her hopes to evade the crew without detection were made futile as soon as the producer standing in front of the host made direct eye contact with her. The smile grew wider—her discomfort pure and shining—as her brown eyes begged the producer’s equally dark ones for mercy.

Before she could open her mouth to rattle off some bullshit excuse that only another driver would be able to understand, the producer—Aaron, she remembered his name—clapped his hands together, startling her before a groan slipped from her lips. Locked in a silent argument, Aaron was the first to break the silence.

“Michaela,” Eyes peering into hers as if in a warning. “You owe me this.”

Feigning innocence she whispered lowly, “I’ve got no idea what you mean, Aaron.”

His prim English accent was firm with sincerity as he took a moment to remind her with a tired, “France?” Receiving another sigh from the Australian girl, Aaron nodded as if emitting an obviously from his pursed lips. Pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, he called over the host—the identity of whom was still unknown to Michaela. 

“Michaela, you’ll be having a quick chat with Jenson. He’s just joined the Sky team for this season,” Stopping himself to clap a hand onto the blonde Brit’s shoulder and to issue a warning glance towards the starry-eyed Aussie, he continues. “Be your normal bright self, put him at ease, it’s his first day.” 

The emphasis on ‘normal’ is not lost on Jenson who chuckles at the warning. At a loss for words, Michaela pulls in a bated breath, eyes transfixed on the 2009 World Champion. 

“Go easy on me?” 

Blue eyes sparkle as they finally meet her brown ones. All words seem to fail her, that familiar rush of eagerness subsides as she takes him in. 

Of all the things to notice about the former driver—the high peak of the bridge of his nose, the sharp lines of his hair, or the wolfish tilt of his lips—the feature Michaela can’t seem to pull her attention from is the spray of sun-tanned freckles laid across his cheeks. The freckles—and the unadorned, noticeably pale band of his left ring finger—are sure to haunt her as she finally finds the trust in herself to respond to the plea of grace. 

“For you? How could I be anything but easy?” 

If she was unaware of how desperate the words sounded as they fell off her two-toned lips, Aaron made sure to point it out to her. A clear of his throat covering the chuckle released from the back of his throat made sure to cut the present tension between the two drivers.

“Pick your good side and get it over with,” His words are choppy as he motions for the cameramen to take their places, “Please?” 

The plea, whiny with exasperation is finally the thing to sever Jenson’s attention from the pink tinge hiding underneath the roundness of Michaela’s cheeks. With a quirk of his head and the offer of a red Sky Sports microphone, Michaela’s hands are still as her heart beats with an anticipation foreign to her own body. 

✼.⠀NOVEMBER 25, 2018 — abu dhabi, united arab emirates

The last round of the Formula 2 Championship had passed by in a blur. The strobe lights catching onto the obnoxious trophy—with her name on it—seated in the middle of the table only added to the massive headache clearing any and every thought in her mind. Unsure of George’s whereabouts, Michaela downed a massive gulp of the mystery drink in her hand. 

“Any plans before the next season?” Alex’s words slurred together into one big nearly incomprehensible sentence. Lando, seated on the other side of Michaela, giggled incessantly before answering on behalf of the newly crowned champion. 

“You should try getting laid!” Dark eyes cut across to glare at him before they both fell into a shared giggle. Alex, dissatisfied by the lack of response from the Australian’s lips, whined impatiently. 

“C’mon, Mick, answer me.” 

“You talk funny when you’re drunk—” She continued giggling as Lando joined in imitating the oldest amongst the three. “Mickey!” He whined once more, face buried in his hands dramatically. 

“Fine!” 

She hummed to herself, much livelier with the endless flow of alcohol coursing through her.

“Lando’s right…” She pouted as if coming across an epiphany. “I should get laid.”

Alex shook his head as he turned to face her once more. 

“You can’t get laid yet!” 

Confusion gripped the two younger drivers, hanging on to his every word. 

“If you get laid, Lando’ll be the only virgin on the grid.” He could barely get the words out without a stumble of laughter.

A rumble of a laugh released itself from Michaela as she threw her head back in amusement. The driver beside her grumbled to himself, eyebrows furrowing as he stood up with a jerk. The mutter of an excuse to grab another drink fell on lost ears as Michaela and Alex took their turn to share a laugh. 

Just as soon as Lando left, his spot on the couch was taken by Pierre. The Frenchman threw a sluggish arm over Michaela’s shoulder before planting an exaggerated kiss on her temple, a “mwah!” ringing into her ears as she pushed him away. 

“Mickey, félicitations, ma jolie!” His words were—impossibly—more slurred than Alex’s, clear his intoxication had impaired his ability to distinguish between English and French. 

“Merci chouchou,” She responded through squished cheeks as the older driver pinched them together in his warm hands. 

“Are you getting laid tonight? I have a few suggestions.” He nearly sang the words into the Australian’s ears, his arms wrapping around her affectionately—not unlike his sober mannerisms. 

“We were just talking about that!” Alex spoke up excitedly before Michaela could reply. “I told her Carlos would be down but she said—”

“No! He fucks anything that walks.” 

Michaela ripped herself from Pierre’s arms at Alex’s suggestion. Crossing her own arms, she began to pace in front of the couch. Reaching for Alex’s drink, Michaela fell into deep thought, carefully surveying the section before them. Full of drivers across formulae and whoever they deemed glamorous enough to join them in their drunken celebrations, it was a dark-haired man who caught her eye. 

Recognizing the stillness in her stance, Pierre nudged a confused Alex before standing to join the younger woman. 

“His name’s Olivier, he’s with Giovinazzi.” 

Alex nodded, pushing his shoulder forward to nudge the shorter woman’s, “His trainer or something?” 

Pierre’s response—whatever it was—were ultimately ignored by Michaela who simply took another large gulp of his drink before surging forward. The cheers of Pierre and Alex were matched with a confused Lando as he returned drinkless.

Making eye contact with the dark-haired man—Olivier—his smile worked to quickly spur Michaela on. A surge of confidence ran through her as Antonio, and the rest of his entourage boyishly roughed up the subject of Michaela’s confidence. With a push forward, he was suddenly eye-to-eye with the Australian driver. 

His skin, nearly the same shade as her own, met hers with a heat so addictive Michaela swore she saw Eros. 

His voice, slow and accented—French, she decided—tickled at her ear as he bent down to speak to her over the noise of the EDM. 

His hands, lightning through her body grasping at her hips as she rocked above him late into the early morning. 

His lips, were gentle like the calming patter of the rain against her spine as he slipped out of her bed, number scribbled on the hotel notepad, and a sweater marked with his scent left to lie next to her luggage.

✼.⠀taglist:⠀

@cha-hot @certifiedlesbianbaddie @nichmeddar

@d3kstar @thewannabewriter @hwalllllllelujah

@pacmacs-macs @thearchieves @doodlehunz

@lavisenri @evie-119 @bxdbxtxh

@seaweed-orchid @glitterquadricorn @99snse

@ginghampearlsnsweettea @alliwantisadonut @hiireadstuff

@emilyval1

[lowkeyrobin]

MONTY FINCH ; dating headcanons

summary ; dating hcs w monty

warnings ; none

word count ; 575

masterlist

he's kind of quiet so a lot of times you do most the talking

he rambles when he's stressed/nervous/anxious or when he's rambling about an interest/something he likes

and trust, he rambles a lot because he loves you bro

he's very respectful with boundaries and will NEVER cross them

he's got a whole list in his mind that he constantly checks on before he even moves around you

he's very gentle but he's not infantilizing if you have any mental / physical disabilities

like he's not gonna treat you like a baby, but he will be careful and respectful and help as much as he can

having a panic attack? he's right at your side trying to help. need your medicine site changed? he's at your service with hand sanitizer and everything you need

you were actually kind of oblivious to his advances

you thought he was just being nice by giving you a reading / teaching you about astrology

he'd always somehow find you just at the right time so you could escape your little dead boy detectives + crystal & niko

gonna be honest, you need a break sometimes. it's hard

but you loved going on little late night adventures with him and trying new food and rollerskating with him

but you did catch on to his feelings after he had to literally spell it out for you

you reference inside jokes ALL THE TIME and charles/edwin/crystal/niko never understand

then you remember "oh I have to explain this" when they give you a confused look

you love looking at funny tiktoks together

and cringe ones that deserve a restraining order

you're basically commentary youtubers atp

you make him bracelets as well, whether they be kandi or string or whatever

he wears them all the time

he's given you a couple jackets as well... let's hope esther never finds out (because they're hers. she was not buying him a whole wardrobe after turning him human)

he loves sharing music with you

and he's always begging for aux in the car / to make you listen to a song / etc etc

i see him being a hozier / david kushner / ethel cain / old friends fan

but he relates to a large handful of sleep token songs as well (I have to mention them at any moment I'm sorry)

he usually listens per artist on his playlists but there are some stray songs that are just there that scream him / he loves

like the reason by hoobastank, airhead by honey revenge, and hell by the home team

I'm describing my monty playlist atp... (link on my masterlist (go to playlists then monty finch))

he's a pretty empathetic person

like if he sees you in any sort of non-happy state, he's gonna ask if you're okay and be there for you

he giggles and laughs a lot

you're very funny, you make him laugh a lot

it's cute 😔🫶

he also picked up drawing

so he's always drawing you when you aren't looking / just in his free time

the diego to his frida

he lovesss compliments

giving and receiving

so there's a lot of those between you two

he's genuinely so sweet

he remembers all your interests and things you like and stuff

so if there's a new season of a show you like coming out or a new album from an artist you like, he's gonna be informing you

[2willowlane]

i love visiting him whenever he's out in the clinic. tbh, i want to try and spice up the gifts i bring him. i think he's tired of all of the coffee i have.

male reader, sfw, established relationship

"honey, we've talked about this..."

at the sight of his husband, the doctor sighed; shaking his head affectionately at you. you wanted to surprise him with a basket of his favourite treats; namely of the likes of pickles and wine. he was at his clinic, per-usual on tuesdays and thursdays—getting ready in his examination room. patients where one of his top priorities (other than you, of course); as he did go to school for almost a decade for this occupation. as your love then placed the goods down, out of the way, you then surprised him with a little peck to the cheek.

"i appreciate you coming by and seeing me; it's awfully sweet of you," you couldn't get over how he let out a little laugh at your kiss. what a cutie. "however, you do understand i have an appointment booked in a few moments, right? i promise, i'll be home just before you know it. i don't want to leave my favourite guy worried, now, do i?"

he wasn't exasperated by your surprise visits, he actually enjoyed seeing what you wanted to bring him. either it was just a quick coffee for a pick-me-up, a little smooch, or just for some small talk; there was something rewarding, having something to look forward to everyday. whilst harvey is taking tender care of the farm, whilst you're off doing errands, he makes sure to greet you with a welcoming meal; experimenting with different combinations and flavours, to see what'll get the best reaction out of you.

"oh, don't look at me like that," harvey then saw how you were jokingly trying to "guilt" him; looking at him sternly. "go on now—but, ah, wait a second."

fumbling with his jacket, harvey then tried to pull it off and over him. once he did, he then handed it to you; the olive fabric was warm to the touch, and it smelt very comforting—though, since you were very used to living with the man already, you've grown attached to it. you'd suppose that the sterile clinic accentuated the scent, but nevertheless, it was harvey's significant overcoat. "it's cold out. i know you love being active, and even if it's great to have your blood pumping, it's best to be layered up."

you knew you've won him over, as you thanked him for the sentiment. even if this may end up being just a simple, overlooked event in the far future—it makes you a proud husband, for being able to reflect on this. seasons back, harvey would've be relunctant on some of his more intimate actions; rather, the poor man would've been flustered way too easily for his own good. you just took a moment to just appreciate the tender moment, before harvey had to eventually shoo you out.

[pedrospatch]

wip wednesday

tysm for the tags loves! @alltheirdamn @sawymredfox @milla-frenchy @almostfoxglove @penvisions @cavillscurls @arcanefox207 @strang3lov3 @evolnoomym @mermaidgirl30 <33

i said i wasn't going to participate, but i sorta have something to share? it is a super lengthy jackson! joel one shot i thought of last year that i want to write for the holidays. it is not holiday themed per say, but does take place during fall and winter seasons and if i do write it, it will be shared in december. most of it will remain top secret for now. okay i'll stop babbling and share a snippet.

You shouldn’t be alone, Maria had told you. Not at a time like this. Perhaps she’s right. Perhaps you shouldn’t be alone. Not when the grief is so heavy. Too heavy. But being surrounded by people who felt sorry for you—that’s not what you need, either. You could hardly stand the way the entire town looked at you during the service, the pity in everyone’s eyes as they each came up to you, one by one, to express their condolences with tired clichés accompanied by unwanted hugs and pathetic pats on your shoulder. Poor girl lost her momma, and now her daddy, too. She’s all alone. There’s a loud knock at the door and it startles you out of your thoughts. Wiping at your damp, swollen eyes with the back of your hand, you bite back a sigh and stand up from the couch, hoping it’s not another member of the community showing up with another home-cooked meal for you. You had a refrigerator crammed full of food, most of it which you know will go bad—even when you do eventually get your appetite back, one human being can only eat so much damn green bean casserole. When you pull open the door, you’re already prepared to thank whoever is standing there on your porch with a sympathetic smile on their face, a dish of something or other—green bean casserole, you’re willing to bet—in their hands. Instead, you’re taken by complete surprise when you see the older man you’re all too familiar with standing there, his broad, hulking frame nearly taking up the entire doorway. “Joel?” “Hey, darlin’,” he says softly, his hands tucked in the pockets of his brown jacket. No casserole to offer—thank god. “What are you doing here?” you question, as if isn’t obvious. “Came over to check on you.” Joel clears his throat. “I, uh—I didn’t get the chance to talk to you after the service with all those people goin’ up to you.” He can barely look at you, and you know why. He feels guilty. After all, he’d been the last person to see your father alive. Joel had been with him when he took his last breath—showed up at your front door in the middle of the night, shirt covered in his blood to deliver the news to you. His only child, his young daughter who had nobody left. He shuffles apprehensively from boot to boot. “Y’okay?” “No,” you answer, simply. “Are you?” Joel exhales a shaky breath, responds with a barely audible, “No.”  You step aside and gesture for him to come inside. “Well then,” you say, swallowing the thick lump climbing its way up your throat. “How about you come in? I’ll make a pot of coffee and we can be not okay together?”

tagging anyone who wants to participate! and please tag me so i can read about your wips!