#remedy verse

[sanamustdie]

i'm microwaving him as we speak

[cloudyotter]

What jesse does with her director powers

[directorlyric]

< What will you do when he Does/Does Not wake >

[rubyvhs]

remedy (i) — sam winchester

series masterlist

summary: you meet jessica’s friend group that she’s talked so much about and one person who’s she’s never talked about — tags: underage!reader, 22 year old!sam, med student!reader, smoking, cursing.

You’re a lot of things but weak isn’t one of them. Okay maybe just a little. You’re only slightly weak when it comes to Jess’s pout, her ‘please, c’mon’ and those green eyes— okay so only a little corruptible, but it means nothing.

It means nothing that you’re now standing alone at a party where you hardly know anyone and you feel like sleeping outside on the open road might be more entertaining. Not just any party too— one of the biggest parties, Lily Carson’s birthday. 

Basically anyone who looked her way was invited, birthday presents were plethora but not required and you wish you could say that she’s a bitch to everyone, but really, she’s one of the nicest people you’ve ever met. Which is why you started gaping at Jess when she suggested (begged) for you both to go. You don’t know Lily personally but she’s popular, obviously, and she invited Jess so why shouldn’t you come?

“C’mon, girl,” Jess starts as she comes back from a round of beer pong, “you can’t stay rooted in the same place the whole time, that’s not why I made you come.” 

Why she brought you at all was the question. What were you doing here other than being awkward? You haven’t even seen Lily the whole night and she’s the birthday girl. Jess is way more of a party girl than you are, she’ll attend each one and somehow keep her grades up but it isn’t even that. You don’t hate coming, you just don’t prefer it. Too many people more often than not cause overstimulation, crying and too many emotions. You’d rather steer clear.

“I didn’t want to come.”

She rolls her eyes. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to my friends.” You knew all her friends, who would be new? Oh, probably people who aren’t majoring in med school. You met Jessica at lunch in your first year, she asked if you had company, you shook your head, she sat down, and the rest is history. 

You had plenty of friends from your major but none from outside so someone from law was quite thrilling since you’re not usually one to make friends easily unless you connect through school first. 

But throughout the past two years you’ve known her she’d usually hang out with your friends, she knew them all anyways, than you would go see hers. Now it’s different though, you don’t know of many people in your class that would go to a party on a Tuesday night so you’re sure you don’t know anyone here— well, until now.

Jess drags you to a different room. Fifteen, if not more, people are sitting in a circle— or something resembling it. Some of them on the floor, the couch, the tables with the booze. “Guys, here she is!” She introduces you with a big smile and most of them look up to wave at you. 

You want to say what catches your attention are the cute guys (there’s quite a lot) but it’s how freaking pretty these girls look. Like Jess. God, everytime you decide to leave your house your insecurities grow double their size. 

She starts pointing at her friends for you, “This is Emmy, Mary, Gen—” And it’s a damn long list. Longer than it should be, but you try to keep the ones you care about in the back of your head: Gen, Brady, Stella. No one really caught your attention the way those three have, they look like they’re more your style, laid back, on their phones, talking to Jess like they’re closer to her than the rest of the group. 

You sit between Gen and Jess on the beige couch, Brady and his girlfriend (?) at the foot of it, his hand around her shoulders. “Spin the bottle?” Someone from somewhere in the room says and you sigh. Yeah, this is why you don’t go to parties. The alcohol (which you don’t drink), the games (that you don’t play) and the making out everywhere. 

You grew up pretty reserved before you came to Stanford so you haven’t even had your first kiss, you haven’t smelled alcohol and you most definitely haven’t seen parties this big. 

“Brady?” Someone from the doorway shouts which makes most of us look up at— this person. Who isn’t real. I’m imagining him. “Hey, Jess, Gen,” he acknowledges both people I’m sitting between. Does that mean he’s real? No, no, just a figment of my imagination. He says my name next. A small nod. 

Kill me. Kill me now. How does he know who you am? You want to smile and greet him back but you feel like your body is just gone. Thankfully, he leaves your direct vision after slapping Brady’s shoulder, sitting opposite you on the couch next to a couple on another one. You look over at Jess with wide eyes.

“What just happened?”

“I should be asking,” she sighs, “you see one cute guy and turn mute.” Another thing about reserved upbringings? Never even had a boyfriend. Or seen cute guys.

“Cute?” You exhilarate aggressively, “Jess I would kill myself if I was him. He’s too beautiful for other people to see.” Her eyes widen and she leans forward. You’re already talking into each other’s ear at this point since everyone abandoned the ‘spin the bottle comment’ ever since this guy came in. “What’s his name?”

“I literally just said it when he said hi to you, which by the way, you’re so freaking rude! You didn’t even nod when I introduced you.”

“His name, whore.”

“Sam, slut.” You nod once and lean your back completely against the couch. You try so so hard not to look at him, he’s right in front of you at this angle, if you could just— he’s looking at you. In you. 

He smiles when you hold eye contact and you, like the dumb bitch Jess argues you are, look away quickly. Gen tells some stupid story about something that doesn’t matter to you no matter how hard you try but she’s so cute that you try your best to focus. His green eyes. Were they green? Not as green as Jess’s but they were green under this low light. His Long hair. Those shoulders.

Someone (the same guys who said ‘spin the bottle’?) suggests that you dip and almost everyone in the room agrees. You leave the party with about nine people, which, woah, too many human beings in one place. You see Lily on the way out, wish her a happy birthday, then run back to the group who’s getting two cars. 

You ubered here, not really sure what to expect or if you would be able to park somewhere safe, so you look at Jess with a frown. “What’s happening?”

“We’re going to McDonald’s. You wanna get in Sam’s or in Brady’s car?” 

“Neither, I could uber.” And even as you say it you feel a presence behind you, hovering. Jess is looking at him, but you’re sure if you look anywhere near his face you won’t be able to process the words out of his mouth.

“C’mon,” he draws out your name a little and you’re forced to look up when he stands next to the both of you, getting a cloud of his perfect cologne, “it’s safer this way, since we’re all together. Jess is coming with me, you should too.”

You nod once. Like before, nothing is going on in your head. God, screw this. How can you be so bad at talking to human beings when you're supposed to treat them for a living? 

“By the way, I haven’t seen you around, you’re law?”

You shake your head, taking a small step back that’s barely noticeable but allows you to breathe a little better. His eyes are brown and green. Is that possible? 

“Med. you’re pre-law?” He nods with a smile, putting a hand on Jess’s shoulder to drag her to the car and you follow along.

It isn’t even a tight fit since unlike half of the student population, Sam drives an SUV. You’re in the back with Jess and Gen, some guy who’s name you forgot is with Sam. He’s about to plug his phone in when Jess snatches it from him, “Nuh-uh, Sammy. You promised I can have it next time.” Next time? How many times has Jess been in Sam’s car? Are they together? No, can’t be, you two were just talking about him. 

But she did roll her eyes. Is it because they’re together? “Jess, I swear if I hear any Taylor Swift—”

Jess? And Taylor swift? What kind of joke is that?

“Shut up and drive, Sammy, nearest Mac is still ten minutes away.” But she says it like she’s glad. You and Gen look over her shoulder to choose songs with her, you decide on casual playlists everyone will like and both girls are calm enough to carpool all the way, meanwhile you’re texting your little sister that you’re out with friends so she can know where you are.

Okay, so maybe you listen to murder mystery podcasts too much— sue you for wanting to stay safe. You’ve occasionally gone out where boys were involved and so getting in their car was inevitable but most were nice enough to get into your own if you asked, just helped calm you down way more if you’re the one driving. 

You arrive and everyone’s out of the car, you’re the last one out when you notice Sam's not moving. The car’s parked, isn’t he coming inside?

You can’t believe you’re doing this. You’re speaking to him. “Sam, you coming?”

He looks back at you with that smile of his, that seemingly never leaves his face. “Yeah, just—” and he seems a little hesitant before he opens his armrest. This is it. You pissed off the wrong serial killer who looks nothing above twenty two. 

He takes out a pack of cigarettes and you let out a breath of relief. “I don’t like encouraging them and all that. I’ll finish up quickly and come inside.” You agree but don’t make a move out of the car, even if you do look away from him. “Do you? Smoke?” You nod a little but shrug right after so you confuse him more than yourself. 

You haven’t in a while, a few months, maybe. They’re expensive and money’s tight more often than not. Your parents send over as much as they can, which means you’re doing better than most of the people in school, but you try to be responsible so you’d only do it if someone offers one. A disposable, a cigarette, whatever they had.

“Come up.” It makes a smile stretch on your face as you get out of the car to get in the passenger's seat. “Pull it back. The seat.” You do and it puts you in a way more comfortable position. 

“Chad was just makin’ sure Gen was comfortable,” because she was sitting behind him, “how come I’ve never seen you with Jess before?”

“Oh, we don’t— or I don’t go out often. I don't go to parties and stuff like that ‘cause it’s,” God curse whoever invented oversharing, “yeah, anyways, I don’t do parties. I came ‘cause Jess promised brunch tomorrow if I come.”

“Brunch?” He asks with a small laugh, like it’s a ridiculous offer. 

You shrug, watch him take a cigarette out of the pack and pats himself down for a lighter then— “oh shit.”

Life is in your favor today because you’re grinning as you take out your own lighter. You usually keep it on you for aesthetic purposes, but times like these, they’re really handy. “Lighter?”

He looks over and nods, puts the cigarette between his teeth, his eyes meeting yours intensely. You could’ve lighted it up while it was between his fingers, you’re in the car, there’s no wind. But that doesn’t seem to be his point of view because he leans in and you do too, lining the lighter up, checking hastily so you can get back to staring into those oh so gorgeous eyes. With so many colors. 

The cigarette lights and he takes a pornaghraphic drag, arching his back a little to get comfortable and it almost makes you pass out. He repeats his earlier ridicule.

“Yeah, brunch,” You shrug a little, moving to face him more. You notice his phone is connected and playing music though it’s very low, “She’s paying so it’s basically a free meal for the week.” He chuckles through another drag and shakes his head.

“That’s true.” He offers the cigarette and you take a beat. Okay maybe a little more because he checks in, “It’s blueberry.” And it’s a ridiculous thing to say, he notices and shrugs. “Jess was the  one who bought it for me, my birthday was a week ago.”

“Oh, happy birthday, then.” He acknowledges your words as you take the cigarette between your own fingers to bring to your lips. You’ve shared smoking with other people, a whole car of people smoking the same thing— nothing new— but just the two of you? Sitting in the car with the low music… something is different. “How are exams— LSAT mocks are soon, right?” And if it’s the dumbest thing you could’ve said, he doesn’t mention it.

“Yeah, next week. They’re just mocks but I think they’re counting them as the finals.” You nod, not really understanding. Med school was way different than… this. Way way different. But you tried to be mindful of all the majors just so you could be able to open conversations with other people.

“That’s nice, must be stressful.” You wish you could say you’re usually better at conversations with strangers but unfortunately you’ve always found comfort in speaking about school whenever you don’t know the person in front of you. Really really lame when you’re talking to a guy you like.

You hand the cigarette back, “Shouldn’t we go back inside?” You ask quickly, wanting to leave.

He takes a breath, “I— uh, I gotta finish this first.”

“Why?”

“Emmy’s trying to quit. ‘S why she rode with Brady, he doesn’t smoke and she’s having a hard time.” Oh. That’s generous.

“You’re close with Emmy?” You take a beat before asking the real question that’s been on your mind, “and jess?”

He taps the cigarette out the window then look over at you with a small line between his brows. Just as you were about to backtrack. Not your business, you’re sorry, anything— “Not really. But I’ve known everyone since freshmen year and they're my friends so I try to be considerate. And I think what Emmy’s doing is good.”

For a second you think that’s that and are about to tell him that’s nice, maybe compliment him and then run out of the car but he smiles a little then adds, “Me and Jess are just friends too. Dated in my sophomore year for a few months, that’s it.” 

Oh. That’s good to know, you suppose. Not that it matters or whatever. He hands you the cigarette again and you steal at his eyes, trained on yours, before you take it from between his fingers, your hand slipping against his. You mutter a slow apology. He responds with a warm smile. “What about you? Boyfriend?”

That’s the question of the year. “No, no boyfriend.”

“And this group?” He nods over to the Mac you’re parked in front of. “You know any of them?”

“Except Jess, no. Just met everyone today, a lot of people.”

“So most of the people you know are from Med?” You nod. “You know Lana?” 

“Yeah, do you?” 

“Yeah, Lana’s an old friend, she got me into Stanford,” that earns a frown from you and he explains further, “helped me choose where I wanted to go since I didn’t have lots of options. I needed to get somewhere on a full scholarship. Said Stanford offers the most scholarships so I applied.”

“Woah, you’re here on a full scholarship? Really?” You see his proud nod, and it’s too damn cute. “That’s incredible, Sam.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Your phone pings and you thank god because opening a new conversation would be the end of you. You want to talk with him, and he obviously doesn’t mind your company if he’s opening topics but— it’s scary. And awkward. Though the latter is because of you. 

You see a text from Jess asking where you are, another from your sister to ask who you’re with, and a last one from one of the PA’s for your anatomy class. 

“You okay?” You nod quickly and open the one from your PA to make sure nothing was wrong but— hey, give me a call when you’re free, we need to discuss your last exam.

“Fucking anatomy.” You groan, shutting your phone off. You look up and notice Sam’s raised eyebrow. “What?”

“Anatomy 108?”

“Yeah?” In Med you take the same course four times throughout the school year. The first time you take it it’s called 101, then 102, then 104 and 108. It’s something you wouldn’t know unless you take Med or are interested enough to ask because it’s hard to explain in detail. 

“You’re— you’re taking anatomy? You’re a sophomore?” Oh. Oh shit. Yeah you’re a sophomore, shit shit. 

You can’t lie here, one, because he’d know, two, because you only take anatomy in your second and last year, and you damn well don’t look like you’re in your last. “That makes you, what, eighteen?”

God you wish, at least it wouldn’t kill you. You quickly hand him his cigarette before you break the news, “I’m seventeen.” His face drops and he sits up a little straighter, no longer as playful as he was before. 

So what if Sam’s possibly twenty-two? You’re only a few years younger, and he’s so gorgeous it wouldn’t really be that wrong to do something. Couldn’t you have pretended to be eighteen? Who said honesty is the best policy? Fuck them, man.

“Sam?” You ask when he’s been quiet for too long, even if only a couple of seconds that the music fills. “You okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” He shuts the car’s engine off and raises the windows, “let’s go,” once you’re out of the car he throws his cigarette onto the ground and takes out a packet of gum, then hands you one too. You take it with a smile.

You spot everyone pretty quickly, Gen, Jess and Emmy, the only girls you remember, are sitting on a booth so you head there and the whole way you’re getting looks from jess that you try to ignore. 

You wish it could be like that. And maybe it would’ve been. Maybe he would’ve kissed you or asked for your number or something if you’d kept quiet. 

part two; and all my life, I’ve been wanting this forever.

title from: static by alice shone.

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if u wanna be tagged comment + hope u enjoyed!

[zowiemortem]

Random Case...Casey.

And... Lake House DLC be like:

[room-665]

Control (2019)

I have to remember: the Hiss. The Hiss is the enemy.

[cassmouse]

As someone who really loves Control, should I play Alan Wake? I know they're somehow connected, but I'm not sure how or how much

[voluntarysubmission]

What's happening at the Oldest House during Alan Wake 2?

(Spoilers for ALL of Control, ALL of Alan Wake 2, including Final Draft.)

LET'S SPECULATE.

From Control, we know:

The Oldest House is on lockdown until the Hiss is completely cleansed, so it can't get out.

Jesse was witness to (a version of) Alan's conversation with Zane at the Oceanview Hotel/Motel.

Alan's writing definitely affected the way things went down at the Investigations Department - but to what extent he directly caused it to happen vs just influenced things already under way is debatable.

The Investigations Department control room for monitoring stations got an alert from the Bright Falls/Cauldron Lake station, dated "from the future", aka. 2023, when AW2 is set.

We don't explicitly know how long the events of Control are in terms of Jesse's perception of time. At least a few weeks, based on the hair growth we see in Dylan after the events in the Foundation. So from the lockdown starting in 2019, they think it's been a few weeks.

This is a SUPER tenous connection, but: after completing Foundation and meeting some hidden criteria, you get a bonus scene when interacting with Dylan, and one of the images that flashes up (the frames are shown clearly at the end of the youtube video) might be a picture looking up from inside the Huotari Well.

There have been FBC agents in Bright Falls for a while, and they were aware of the events of Alan Wake 1. Agent Estevez was acknowledged as being an agent from Investigations sending reports from the site, including complaining that the researchers at the Lake House won't share findings with her.

From Alan Wake 2, we know:

The Oldest House is still "dark". The Taken sometimes say "The Oldest House has gone dark", and in the Sheriff's Station Attacked manuscript, an FBC Agent called Young praises Estevez thinking "Estevez had held it together even after the Oldest House had gone dark".

The FBC is still operating outside the Oldest House. Despite it being a few years since the start of the lockdown, they have agents in the field currently working.

There have been researchers in Bright Falls since the first AWE there. The Research crew is at a facility called the Lake House near Cauldron Lake. This facility is manned when Saga first arrives (you can press on the call box there and ask an agent to send backup, they just say "The station heads are not currently available" - given it's plural, I think they're referring to Dr Marmont and Dr Marmont, the married FBC scientists.)

The Lake House was attacked by Taken, and is considered lost by Estevez, so that happened during the events of AW2.

A project of one Dr Campbell is specifically ongoing - the children's rhymes around the place. Dr Campbell himself is present up until just before the Dark Ocean Summoning events - if you complete the rhymes, you hear things go badly for him.

Estevez says that there is no further backup - they ARE the backup, when Saga asks if more help is available.

Dr Darling, who went missing just before the Hiss invaded in 2019, as spent 665 days minimum in the Dark Place. That's about a year and 9 months, though we don't know when during his stay that the recording happened.

So what can we conclude from all this stuff?

First, the Oldest House is still in lockdown, and has been for years, from the perspective of outside the house. There are several theories about what is happening inside the house, but it seems certain that from the outside world, HQ locked up and went quiet.

My main theory about what is happening on the inside of the house, is that as soon as the house went into lockdown, the passage of time there changed relative to... uh, the normal Earth dimension. Time in the Oldest House is going very slowly.

The two points of evidence for this are the AWE alert in Investigations for Cauldron Lake - Langston says it's coming from the future, but I think it's actually coming from the present - the inside of the House just isn't aware they've been lost for years. The second point of evidence is the conversation Jesse "eavesdrops" on between Zane and Alan - the version we see in Control ihas very similar dialogue to what we see in AW2, which may imply a certain "syncing". But this is more tenuous because of course, Alan has been going through loops so who knows how many times he's had this conversation with Zane. His hair is longer in this conversation in Control than in AW1, but not as long as it is in AW2, so, meh. I still think it's evidence though. You do "see" Jesse calling out "Hello?" in the AW2 version of the scene... I swear she calls out in Control but I can't find it.

The other option is that the house is still on lockdown because it's truly taken them YEARS stuck on the inside to clear out the Hiss, which would set up Control 2 for an interesting starting point. The nature of the Oldest House is such that it's existence, and to a lesser effect by association the FBC, are imperceptible by people who aren't otherwise aware of them. It's not unfeasible that this had the effect of making field agents unlikely to try and find out what happened, even if they knew about the House. But then, while they don't directly address it in Control, the people in the House DO have limited supplies of food and drinkable water inside. People trapped in the lost department (processes and protocols office) in the Foundation were concern about supplies and went looking for food, though ultimately died due to the Astral Spike (Gibbs survived long enough to become a Hiss though? So maybe she survived... or stopped needing to eat. IDK it's the house, it's weird).

I just think the first option is more likely than the second. I think come Control 2, the lockdown will lift and the FBC will find itself years out of date with the external world, scrambling to catch up with the field agents and researchers, and all the altered items and AWEs that have occurred without them being able to properly contain things.

But this all brings me to my main point, which was the reason I wrote all this down and speculated on it to begin with.

To me, the most astounding thing to realise is the Federal Bureau of Control's payroll system is iron clad. Despite the house being in lockdown, despite no department heads to approve budgets and expenditure, all FBC agents outside the House are STILL WORKING FOR THE FBC!!!! They would NOT be doing that if the paychecks stopped (maybe some of the more obsessive scientists... but generally no). The scientists at the Lake House have up until the night of Dark Ocean Summoning still been doing research - and presumably have project budgets and expenditures. They have technicians to regularly call on to check on the monitoring station and fix it after the Koskelas break it, who also get paid. The system functions!!! Like clockwork!!!

Now idk how USA federal government payroll works. It probably is just as simple as the FBC agents are all paid from the same place that the FBI does, I imagine it's somewhat centralised. And the Oldest House's perception protection probably means the reports get stamped and the pay goes through without being paid attention to. But this is the government we're talking about here, there's fuck ups and salary freezes and system errors and database issues. But these agents have been working on their own for YEARS! They are paying their bills! They are getting their holidays! They are filing their taxes!

Now THAT'S what I call a process to admire. No matter how catastrophic the disaster affecting HQ is, these government workers WILL get their paychecks and continue just doing their jobs and filing their reports. Incredible.

[noodlecupcakes]

Last Line Tag

I was tagged by @cassietrn, thank you lovely <3. So my last line is from an Alan Wake X Mr Scratch fanfic I have in the works. I am deep into Remedy verse and I have so many ideas for this ship, I'm just a slow writer. And yes this is smutty...

They had all the time in the world as far as Scratch was concerned.

I tag: @josephseedismyfather, @3llisarts, @g0dspeeed and @la-grosse-patate

[ilkkawhat]

[sanamustdie]

🌈 THEY'RE HERE!!! keychains and stickers are finally available on my ko-fi! reblogs are super appreciated, thank u! ⭐️🌀

me showing u the blorbos

[cloudyotter]

Trench speaking to Jesse through the hotline

[fictionadventurer]

I'd like a poem with a refrain I don't know if I can explain The hold that these repeated lines Are lately having on my mind

To give me joy and keep me sane I'd like a poem with a refrain I never fail to be amused By poems with lines that are reused

My usual poetic toys Do not provide their former joys I'd like a poem with a refrain To liven up these stale quatrains

In making this poetic game I only have myself to blame Be patient with my silly brain: I'd like a poem with a refrain.

[rubyvhs]

remedy (ii) — sam winchester

>prev | series masterlist

summary: jessica and gen explore what’s between them by forcing you and sam to do the same —tags: underage!reader, 22 year old!sam, med student!reader, insecure reader.

“You never told me what happened with Sam.” And with good reason too. Jess, she’s your best friend and your roommate, naturally she got worried when you kept avoiding the topic. The topic being: ‘You and Sam spent an awfully long time outside. Alone.”

“Nothing happened. We smoked.”

Her eyes widen and she lets go of her phone. You’re both in your two room apartment, but currently in hers. She’s on the beanbag, you’re on the bed. She’s about to scream. “You what?”

“Yeah.” You say a little reservedly. You trust Jess wholeheartedly, she wouldn’t tell anyone, and it isn’t like it’s a secret even if she does, but she’s very overprotective. As in, she would go give Sam a piece of her mind if you say anything that could piss her off. Again, not like he did anything, but still. You can never be too careful.

“Come on, slut, I want details.”

“Those are the details. We smoked.” Oh fuck it. “And he asked if I’m a sophomore.”

“Why would he ask—” It hits her quickly and her eyes widen with an exaggerated gasp. “No way. Sam freaking Winchester likes you?”

“He doesn’t.”

“I beg to differ. He’s a senior, you know that, right?” You nod, pulling you head down as you play with your fingers in your lap. There’s not much you can do with Sam without him looking at you like a kid. It’s only a five year age difference— hell, your parents are eight years apart, but in university it’s different. He’ll want to feel mature, it’s hard to date someone who— yeah, hasn’t actually done anything. Ever. 

Scratch that, he probably wouldn’t date you if you were twenty. Okay that’s more of your insecurities talking but still.

“C’mon, you so don’t like Sammy. That hair? Are you serious?” 

You suddenly catch her tone and look up with a small laugh, “You’re kidding!” And yeah, you're theory is right, she’s blushing. “You like Sam?”

She shakes her head. “Don’t deny it—”

“I don’t—”

“Lying whore—”

“I swear.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“It’s Gen.” You furrow your eyebrows into a frown and tilt your head. What’s Gen? “I like her. Not Sam.”

“Okay… what does that have to do with—”

“She’s his best friend. She’s into girls but they’re roommates and I used to date Sam so I don’t know what he said about me— I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I used to date him.” You get out of your seat at her slightly trembling voice. She says the last sentence like it’s an afterthought, like it’s not supposed to mean much. It fuels your insecurities, but other than that, nothing. “I’ve liked her for a year now but she’s… I’m scared to tell her.” 

“Gen’s hot. You’re hot.” You sit up on the desk so your legs are dangling in front of Jess, she places her hands on your thighs. “Come on, don’t be stupid. I haven’t paid attention but I’m sure she’d feel the same way if you made a move.”

“Maybe,” but she doesn’t think so, you can tell, “I don’t wanna— I mean, I know you haven’t seen her around a lot but she’s cool, okay? Like really cool. And Sam’s like her German Shepherd bodyguard.” That earns a genuine laugh from you and she slowly smiles into it too. She loosens up even as she’s panicking slightly because, seriously? How ridiculous is this?

“‘S okay, Jess. Cool or not, you're cooler. You’re the coolest. No one has anything on you, and don’t even worry about the German Shepherd bodyguard.” 

Famous last words.

Sometimes, in life, it’s better to shut up than comfort your friend. So much better. The most better, no matter how grammatically incorrect that sentence is. Because if you don’t shut up, you end up on double dates (three days before your final) with a guy who probably hates your guts. 

And it’s all your fault really. Your self control and Jess’s pouty face. God, it’s cruel for her to have such a beautiful weapon. Real shame it doesn’t work on Sam to make him back down— which is why you’re here. On Gen and Jess’s date. With Sam. This isn’t a double date. This is just… torture, in its purest forms. 

“I could be studying right now.” You whine while Jess parks her mustang at the mall entrance. It’s a last-ditch attempt to go back home. 

“You studied enough. I quizzed you on the flashcards three times.”

“But I missed a few the last time.”

“You’ll pass.” 

“Jess, c’mon, does he even know?”

Last ditch attempt turns into a complaining session. It doesn’t work. Doesn’t make you feel better. And definitely doesn’t stop you from stuttering and blushing like a ten year old when you see Sam. 

Gen and Sam meet you at the shooting range where you’re supposed to have your ‘date’. You greet Gen with a hug while Jess does the same for Sam, and when you switch… he’s smiling but you decide to play it safe and put out your hand. He glances at it for a second before extending his and saying a quick ‘hey’. It works out, there isn’t any of that initial awkwardness, and it’s almost like four friends going out. 

You decide to get food first so you end up at a cafe/restaurant type of thing called mince. 

“Why’d you choose here?” It’s the first thing you’ve said that actually sounds like you want to be here and Gen’s smiling as she answers.

“Used to work here last summer, best freakin’ burgers ever!” She’s so bubbly, her shoulder-length brown hair is in loose waves that you just need to ask how she does, her smokey eyeshadow has a hint of glitter on the sides and it’s all very pretty. She’s pretty. You get what Jess is on about.

“And the—” Gen interrupts Sam to shout ‘milkshake’ at the same time he says it which is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. She gets excited about the smallest stuff and is showing it constantly. 

“You used to work here too?” You ask, just because you’re proud you spoke at all.

“No, would annoy Gen to get me half-off meals the whole summer.” Gen rolls her eyes like it’s true which makes the rest of you laugh. 

And it goes on with casual conversation; when are your exams, what are you doing this summer, did you hear about Lily’s new party. It’s mostly like all of your outings until the food comes, then Gen and Jess start to close their conversation in.

Gen and Jess. They should have a joint name. Genevieve and Jessica. Jenica? Jessevieve? Nessica? Maybe you should take a break. But God these burgers really are as delicious as she says. Incredible. All that flavor put in one? Maybe you should work here. 

It seems like your (practically) moans aren’t so quiet because Sam’s amused expression says it all when you look up at him. He’s sitting opposite to you and watching you eat more than he’s touching his own food. “That good?”

You swallow and quickly nod. Yeah it’s that good, what kind of joke is that? It’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted. Best burger, anyway. You take a sip or your cherry cola before he shakes his head, “You’re missing out.”

“What?”

“On the milkshake.” You smile a little and play with your necklace’s charm, something you’ve picked up doing since you stopped smoking regularly (the small wins in life). “Here,” He moves his across the table. With his straw. So first you share a cigarette and now a straw? You may as well kiss at this point, it’s all the same. 

You lean down to try it and— wow. You’ll be personally giving every chef in this place a raise, who cares if you don’t have the right to do that? You will make the right when their food is this flavorful. 

Even a vanilla milkshake feels different— is that cinnamon? 

“Right?” And if your feverish nod wasn’t something to go by, then the fact that you were the first to finish your food says it all. 

After you’ve all eaten till you couldn’t get up (thank God for friends who you can accomplish that with), you walk around, hand linked in Jess on one side with Gen and Sam on her other. You don’t want to make Sam uncomfortable, no matter how nice he acted in the restaurant so you try to stay as far away as you can. Which okay, in retrospect you might look like a toddler holding onto Jess but no one seems to mind.

Until they do. “Me and Gen are gonna look at something, okay?” Jess says, her voice a little low so only you can hear. Jess wouldn’t hate you for refusing, but you can see how much she wants this. You nod and swallow your fears. That would leave you alone with Sam. “Don’t worry, okay? He’s a good guy—”

“‘M not worried. Have fun, baby.” She beams and runs over to where Gen’s standing. Sam is on the phone somewhere so you settle for walking around ‘till you stop at a jewelry store. If anything reminds you of your parents, it’s stores like this. Gold jewelry. Your tradition. Other people would get phones or shoes when they achieved something, you’d get an 18 karat ring— and it’s not to say you’re a multi-millionaire (you definitely aren’t), it’s much much cheaper where you're from. 

You got your first earring when you were two days old from your uncle. A necklace from your grandfather. Three bracelets from your father. All gold. 

“You like it?” Sam’s voice startles you, jumping back, you look at him. He’s looking expectantly.

“Yeah, I guess,” They’re beautiful earrings, matching the ones your mother wears all the time back home. “Reminds me of someone.” 

He nods and when you look up into his eyes he’s quick to blurt out ‘I’m sorry’ like he’s scared he’ll talk himself out of saying it. What does he have to apologize for? You guys didn’t even flirt, it was nothing. 

“It’s okay. I mean— obviously you have nothing to be sorry for anyways.”

“I shouldn’t have done that—”

“What, talking to me?”

“Leaving.” Does the action of breathing include air being sucked out from your lungs forever? Thag Shouldn’t be happening. “It makes it seem like I'm an asshole and you’re cool, didn’t mean to make it look like that. I’d love to be your friend, give me your number?” you hesitate for a moment too long, “if you want, of course. If you want to be friends with a senior.”

He says it like he’s a fifty year old senior resident which forces a laugh out of you and helps you relax a little. “Yeah, of course, I just didn’t want to assume anything, you’ve been nice, Sam, haven’t been rude or anything. It’s just, you looked pretty scared when I mentioned my age.”

He rubs the back of his neck with a small huff, “Yeah, that’s my bad.”

“Okay, yeah, give me your phone,” He opens the contacts app and you easily add your number along with your name. First and last. Who knows how many people he knew had your name? Could be hundreds. Thousands. Millions even. 

“It’s not a bad thing that you got scared— but anyways,” you hand him his phone back, “if it makes you feel any better I’m turning eighteen in a couple of months.” It’s not a total lie, you’re turning in January. It’s May. So if you think about it, it’s a couple of months… multiplied by four. Really only eight months. Same thing.

“It doesn’t,” he snorts and you frown a little. His eyes widen  and he shakes his head, “not in… I meant that there’s nothing to feel bad about anyways. You’re a cool person, I like hanging around you.”

You try to lighten the mood, smiling and waving your hand, “Keep the lies coming.” He laughs a little but you can see he’s about to explain himself again. “It’s fine, Sam. I understand what you mean. I liked hanging out with you too.”

“Yeah?” Flirting, friendly banter, pity— who cares, you’re talking and he’s being all cute while you make your way around a mall that you have no interest being in. 

“Definitely. And I tried blueberry cigarettes for the first time with you.” You say excitedly, and it’s really true. It was thrilling (when compared to your routine of studying, eating and going to the gym everyday) to try cigarettes with flavor— not that it was really prominent, but at least you tried it. “And your car’s amazing. A Mazda, right?”

His eyes seem to twinkle in the way-too bright light, “Got it last year actually.”

“I noticed, ‘s a newer model.”

“Yeah, twenty one.” You're both somehow closer as you walk, your arms brushing against each other in the white short sleeve top you decided to wear and his Zeppelin t-shirt. You’re about to take your phone out (because God knows that that's the only thing you can do when you’re stuck in an awkward situation) before he points at a shop and practically shoves you to come with him. Not that you need a push, you would’ve gone very very willingly. 

“What are we doing here?” You ask when you stop right in front of a dollar store. 

“‘S a tradition me and my brother had— have. We buy fireworks every first of the month.” You feel a light laugh escape you even as you want to pout in confusion. What does that have to do with you? “It helped us save money instead of buying them all at once on the Fourth of July. Still haven’t bought my May ones, we should go in.” It doesn’t take you five seconds of looking into his sparkling eyes to agree. Those eyes. They’re just brown so you can’t say that the color is what captivates you, it’s the way he uses them. So so insanely innocent when you’re sure he isn’t, when he's shown you he isn’t. The fact that he’s still hanging out with you is proof enough.

“It’s the twentieth of may, anyways, why did you wait so long to buy them?” The question is born out of curiosity as you both walk around the different aisles, you examine any piece you find remotely interesting. 

“My brother and I… we don’t talk as much, anymore. Just reminds me of him a lot, I guess.” 

His eyes are trained in front of him so he’s avoiding your gaze and his voice is so soft you’re afraid you might not catch what he says. “Then why are we doing it now?”

“I miss ‘em. My family. Just wanna stop doing this avoidance thing— which is Dean’s thing by the way, not mine— and actually remember them.” He shrugs like his voice isn’t about to crack and his hair isn’t covering his eyes as faces down. You decide to ask a stupid question. A very stupid question.

“Oh, why are you talking about them like they’re gone?” Lesson number two: Sometimes, in life, it’s better to shut up than try and comfort your friend acquaintance. So much better. The most better, no matter how grammatically incorrect that sentence is. Because you just don’t know them well enough, and it’s inevitable to sound like a total dick. 

“They’re… they’re not. Or actually—” oh please no, if one of them is dead, being a ‘dick’ is the least of your worries. “Mum died when I was six months old but I was talking about my dad and Dean, he’s my older brother. We fought when I got accepted into Stanford, dad didn’t exactly approve.” His mother died? You’re a total bitch is what you are. An abomination at best.

“God, Sam, I’m sorry—” You hurry to push out the most sincere apology of your life but he stops you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. You freeze automatically. 

A, there’s a hand on your shoulder. B, it belongs to a guy… from the male species— of men. C, you like Sam and want him to keep touching you.

“Stop, don’t, it’s fine. Mum was a long time ago and dad, guess it’s just the way it is.”

You’d think. You’d believe, that after all of this you would shut up and mind your own business at the very least— but no such luck. You hear yourself asking, “what about Dean?”

“What about him?”

“He's your brother—” It’s as if the universe is on your side because you never get to finish your sentence. A toddler runs over to you to hug your legs so tight you can't move and she’s crying out ‘mama’ too many times for her head not to pound. Yours certainly is. “Hey, hey,” it’s no use, she’s as sure that you’re her mum as you are that Sam is never going to open his mouth around you again.

She starts crying. As if you sold her to the highest bidder and she’s just now finding you again. You would if she keeps holding on and crying like this. 

Sam doesn’t share your same sentiment because he starts cooing at her, leaning down to pick her up. He lifts her in the air and the crying comes to an immediate halt. You love kids, nothing against them— in fact, you cared for your little brother since the second he was born. First to hold him. But right now? When you’re embarrassing yourself to last you a lifetime, your affinity to kids is decreasing ever so slightly. 

“Hey, princess, where’s mommy?” Right here. Is what you want to say, instead you cough a little too obviously, making Sam send a smirk your way. The little girl with two ponytails on each side, she couldn’t be older than five, shakes her head. “You don’t know? Is she here?” He points to you and your eyes widen for only a second before you glare at him. Now that the girl has gotten a better look she shakes her head. The small things you're grateful for. “What’s your name?”

“Rory.” She pouts out but she seems content in Sam’s arm. She’s leaning her head on his shoulder and you’re willing to bet money your heart's beating so fast you might pass out. It’s so heart-warming, he’s so frickin’ good with kids. Why is he so good with kids?

“Okay, Rory, let’s go see where mum is.” He glances at you to make sure you follow him and you make your way to the register. He tells the cashier what’s happening and he announces over the speakers that someone should pick up their child. Sam keeps holding her and glancing at you frequently while he’s playing with her, as if willing you to do something too. 

You won’t. He’s stupid to think you will. It isn’t like you would’ve left her there in the middle of the store if you were alone but you definitely wouldn’t have held up a stranger (even if it’s a child) and then played with her. Bringing her to the lost and found (cashier… whatever) is more than enough.

Her mum picks her up a few minutes after and you’re both checking out with the fireworks in record time, mostly because he grabbed them when you weren’t looking— which really begs the question of how the hell is this man so good at something that sounds illegal? 

Should you be concerned? Yes. Will you be? Probably not. Which is why you keep walking before you ask questions again. It’s bound to happen. It will happen. Exhibit A:

“About your brother, you said you guys don’t talk. Why?”

He doesn’t seem to mind even if it looks like he’s a little sad talking about it. “Oh, it’s nothing. He’s just always traveling and he wasn’t really happy that I went off on my own.”

“That’s a dick move,” you’re a dick, is what he should say to you so you try to save yourself, “I mean that you did a really incredible thing. You got into Stanford on a full scholarship— he should be proud.”

It takes him a second to answer, he’s staring in front of him and it isn’t to avoid your gaze, it’s to come up with a genuine response. And his response is genuine. “He is. Dean’s proud.”

You don’t push it after that, you get a matcha strawberry drink, you both buy some snacks that you don’t open and then Jess calls to see where you are.

“You know,” maybe you don’t want to know. He seems to catch your thought because his smile widens, “this was fun. We should do it again— alone, next time.”  

Is this what being asked out looks like? Should you get Jess to answer for you— maybe you should—

“As in a date, sweetheart. Is that okay?”

If he keeps calling you that then yes.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” He says fairly and leans down to kiss your cheek. “Good night.” And then he walks past you to Jess, throwing a quick ‘night Jess’.

“Oh. My. God.” Jess all but sequels next to you as you both walk back to her car.

“You can say that again. I just got my first kiss!” Jess’s eyebrows furrow.

“Oh you poor poor sheltered girl.” Which throws both of you into a hiss of laughter while she leans up against you in victory. You both got what you wanted. Even if you didn’t know you wanted it.

You definitely knew you wanted it.  part three; holding onto thin lines ‘till we just walk between them.

title from: softly by clario

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hi guys so here’s the second part, I think it’s gonna be 3 parts because the last two have been 3.5/4k so the last one could be 6/6.5k and I can end it there. Glad you guys like it so far and comment if you wanna be tagged!! & if you’re wondering, yes gen’s faceclaim is gen padalecki our beautiful beautiful girl. her and adri are a power couple.

ALSOOO I REACHED 100 FOLLOWERS I love u guys sm and I’m so glad you like my writing enough to want to follow me and I love talking to you and getting your thoughts on everything so let me know what I should do for 100!!

tag list: @angzls @chxrrybomb22 @pinkpantheris @ang3ldool @iloveragdollcats

@oohjana18294 @user-2538484747490203746579403

[vash-in-the-void]

Oh, and I digress

‘Cause I must make you the perfect morning

And I try my best

To prove that nothing’s out to get you

inspired by The Bug Collector

alt versions under the cut

[sciderman]

the real question is: who are the kens?

the kens.