#taking him out for a burger date. id be so in love with a tiny bear

[so-very-small]

me: oh Tiny Bear of Wisdom, lend me guidance

the tiny fat gay man who lives in my pocket: instead of getting the meal combo, just get the burger and fries. you have sweet tea at home, and you like it more than drive-thru sweet tea.

me: thank you Tiny Bear of Wisdom

[oreomonsterhunter]

“I’m not wearing my sexy underwear tonight”

Pairing: Johnny x reader (or OC)

Word Count: 3988

Genre: fluff, not smut but they both really wanna toe the line

Warnings: language, some sexy kisses (cover your eyes kids)

Summary: Johnny takes his best friend on their first date

A/N: this has absolutely morphed into a long term couple, because apparently Princess has taken the reins 😂 if you like this, check out the rest of their story so far on my masterlist!

You were nervous.  Friends with Johnny since diapers, and somehow you were nervous to meet him in five minutes.  You glanced at the time—make that four minutes.

Pacing back and forth in front of the door, you smoothed down your dress again.  All Johnny had told you was to dress up.  He might be a fashion king, but he wasn’t exactly the best at sharing details.  You’d teetered between twenty different outfits before finally settling on a happy medium.  Couldn’t show up to a museum in an evening gown.  Well, you supposed you could, if you even owned one.  So the little black dress at the back of your closet was the final choice.  Safe enough for just about every venue, since Johnny hadn’t told you where your date would be.

You sucked in a breath, fighting against the nerves tight in your stomach.  Your first date, oh my gosh.  How were you supposed to date Johnny?  You’d done practically everything together already, what made this different from going to the movies together last week?  Aside from the obvious—last week, you didn’t know what Johnny’s lips felt like on yours.

Then you groaned at your sudden realization.  Jeez, you couldn’t do anything right in this relationship with Johnny.  You were about to have your first date but you’d already had a hot and heavy makeout session at an unmentionable hour of the morning.  So much for “will I kiss him afterwards?”  Dating for five seconds, and everything was already out of order.  You wanted to scream, but before your thoughts could really start spiraling, you heard a knock at the door.

You were sweating, oh gosh.  Did you need to reapply deodorant?  You froze, staring at nothing.  Until another knock sounded, this time accompanied by Johnny’s familiar voice, “Yo, are you ready to go?”

You sagged in relief.  Nothing else would have snapped you out of the nervous cycle better than Johnny being….well, Johnny.  And when you finally convinced yourself to open the door, the sight of his easy smile was enough for yours to appear, too.

“Well, uh, hi,” he stuttered, making you giggle.

You slipped on your shoes, grabbed a small purse, and locked the door behind you.  Then you linked arms with Johnny, “Alright, where to, mystery man?  You haven’t told me anything.”

“That’s mostly because I didn’t figure anything out until today.”

Biting your lip to hold back a giggle, you tugged him down the hallway.  “No wonder you didn’t share much detail.  I should’ve known.”

Johnny tightened his grip on you when you stepped out of the elevator, leading you to the car.  He didn’t say much, which was a bit out of character.  Frowning up at him, you tried to meet his gaze.  He finally looked down at you when he opened the passenger door for you to get in.  “You, uh, you look really nice tonight.”

A small smile bloomed, “Not looking so bad yourself, hot stuff.”

* * * * *

Apparently Johnny had picked out a restaurant for dinner.  A fancy restaurant.  You read through the list of entrees with a barely-concealed grimace.  “Do you know what any of these words mean?” you asked him.

Johnny beamed at you, “Nope, that’s half the fun.”

A waiter walked by with a tray destined for another table, and you both gaped at the miniscule portion sizes.  “Those look like appetizers,” Johnny said, goggling at the tiny salad. “Maybe I can order several steaks. I’d need about five of them.” He started eyeing the menu again.

“As long as you’re picking up the tab,” you joked.

“Oh, I thought you were,” he said, all wide eyed innocence.  You smacked his arm with your menu, fighting a grin at his usual antics.  The couple at the next table shot you a look, and you hunched back in your seat.

“Don’t worry, I’m paying.  Order whatever you’d like,” Johnny said, still puzzling over the ridiculous dinner options.

You frowned, reaching for your water.  But shoot, it probably cost five bucks for tap, you thought with no small amount of horror.  You set it back down before you drained more of Johnny’s wallet.

After a few more minutes of torturous silence, trying not to fidget too much, you leaned forward.  “Do we even have a waiter?”

Johnny jerked upright, looking over his shoulder at the man in question.  “I don’t know?”

“I’ve been trying to make eye contact with the staff for five minutes and they’re all ignoring me.”

Johnny blinked at you.  “Wait, are you ready to order?”

“No, I wanna ask if they charge for water.”

“No one charges for water,” he chortled.

“I bet it’s five bucks a glass,” you said, crossing your arms.

Now Johnny was really laughing, and half the restaurant was staring at your table.  “Only if it’s imported from the crystal springs of Iceland,” he said, grinning.

“Wait, really?”

“Hell if I know,” Johnny said, making you snort some of your water.  You shrunk down in your chair, hiding your red face while he kept laughing.

“I don’t know this man,” you said to the people at the next table. They stared at you, whispering among themselves.  Pouting, you turned back to Johnny.  “I can’t believe you booked a table here,” you cocked an eyebrow at him.  “I thought we were burger joint people, not escargot snobs.”

“Do you really not wanna eat here?” he asked, propping his elbows on the table.

You opened your mouth to respond, but your waiter finally showed up to take your order.  “Good evening, can I interest you in anything else to drink?”

“Any Icelandic sparkling water?”  Now Johnny was the one snorting inelegantly.

The waiter laughed, despite not knowing the joke.  “Can I interest you in a bottle of red?  You seem like a red wine woman.”

You smiled politely, reaching for the wine list when he offered it to you.  “Sure, I’ll take a look.”

The waiter smirked, eyes landing on you.  “I’ll have to card you, miss.”

Your brows raised, but you complied, digging out your wallet.  Across the table, Johnny cleared his throat, “Do I look like a red wine guy?”  But the waiter barely glanced at him before his eyes were back on you.

“Your photo doesn’t do you justice,” the waiter commented, handing your ID back.

“No one looks good in those pictures,” you chuckled.

“I beg to differ,” he said, then nodded at the wine list.  “What can I get you?”

You glanced over at Johnny, who was fidgeting enough to shake the table.  Curious.  “What do you recommend?” you asked, twirling a strand of hair around one finger.

“You might be interested in one of our finer vintages,” he began, leaning over your shoulder to point out a few wines on the list.  You heard a subtle sound, and out of the corner of your eye, saw Johnny’s fingers rapping the table at a rapidly increasing pace.  You bit your lip, focusing on the wines again, but not before adding a little more fuel to the fire.  Time to test your theory.  You crossed your legs, brushing one foot up Johnny’s calf in the process.  The man jumped as if electrocuted, his knees banging into the underside of the table.

“How about this one?” you asked innocently, looking up at the waiter again.

“A lovely choice, though it is on the higher range, so I’m not sure—”

“We’ll take it,” Johnny announced, plucking the wine list from your fingers and shoving it at the waiter.

You raised an eyebrow, but the waiter simply smiled at you, apparently unbothered by growly Johnny.  “I’ll bring that right out for you,” he said, taking the wine menu and leaving you to suffer over dinner options.

Johnny cleared his throat, leaning towards you again.  “That waiter’s a bit weird, huh?” he asked, watching the man walk away.  “He didn’t even ask what I wanted.”

You donned your best sparkly-eyed expression, “But he’s being so friendly!  He really deserves a nice tip, he had some helpful suggestions.”

Johnny frowned, “He’s obviously flirting with you.”

“No way,” you laughed, waving him off.

Johnny rolled his eyes, “Trust me.  He’s flirting with you more than I am, and I’m the one taking you on a date.”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table.  “Maybe you should start flirting with me some more, then.”

Johnny sent you an indecipherable look.  You wondered if your teasing had worked.  But Johnny seemed to have calmed down some, now that the helpful waiter was out of sight.  

You shrugged, sitting back in your chair.  You changed the subject, giving the man a break.  “Seriously, we don’t need to spend this much on dinner.  I feel bad.”

“I thought you’d like this place,” Johnny said, brows furrowing.

“I will literally go anywhere with you, it doesn’t matter, I just….I dunno, I feel like I don’t fit in here.”  You weren’t quite sure how to express your fear that people would call you a gold-digger or something, only dating Johnny now that he’d achieved success.  Even if the two of you knew better, it still made your stomach twist.  And not in the nice way it did while watching Johnny’s hands playing with his water glass.  Shoot, shoot, shoot, now his fingers were wet from the condensation.  You really didn’t need to know what that looked like.  Had his hands always been that large?  You shifted in your seat.

Johnny’s mouth twisted in a wry smile, “I don’t know if either of us really fit in with the rich old person vibe, but I heard the food is good.”

I’d rather have a bite of you, you thought to yourself, twisting the napkin in your lap.  You’d never seen him in a suit before.  Or at least, not in person.

Johnny coughed suddenly, staring at you with wide eyes.  “What?”

Oh shit, did you say that out loud?  Your cheeks burned.  “Um, I’d be, uh,” you stuttered, trying to cover your mistake, all confidence extinguished.  “We could get burgers, or something.”

Johnny sat back in his chair, eyes on yours.  He smirked, and you wanted to disappear into a hole in the ground.  Oh no, he definitely heard you.

“As long as I get to keep watching you,” Johnny said, voice low.  “You really are beautiful, not just tonight.  Every night.”

You opened your mouth, not sure what to say, but knowing that you wanted Johnny to keep looking at you like that.  Like you were the main course.  “Johnny, I—”

“Your wine, miss,” the waiter had returned.  You bit back a frown, knowing he was just doing his job.  But he seriously couldn’t have waited another minute?

“Thank you,” you murmured, sampling the first sip before allowing the waiter to pour both glasses.

“Can I interest you in any appetizers?” he asked, pouring Johnny’s wine.

You blinked, having forgotten the menu entirely.  Across the table, Johnny pulled out the menu, but before he could point anything out, the waiter was hovering over your shoulder.  “Might I recommend the cheese board?  It will pair beautifully with this bottle.”

“Might I tell you my order?” Johnny said.  His smile was sharper than before.  You might have teased him some more, but you got a bit distracted by Johnny’s jawline as he turned to speak to the waiter.  Honestly, you were having trouble tearing your eyes away from him all night.  It felt like seeing him for the first time, and in a way, you supposed you were.  You’d always known Johnny was attractive, since the time all boys started to look cute.  You’d just never let yourself think about it too much.  Best friend mental boundaries and all that.

Maybe if Johnny hadn’t said anything on that night, you wouldn’t have ever seen him like this.  You wouldn’t have allowed yourself to admire the column of his neck, or his long fingers as they unbuttoned the top of his shirt.  It would’ve been you and your stupid butterflies trapped in the friend zone forever.

Thoroughly distracted now, you bit your lip as you wondered what Johnny’s neck would look like with some new decorations.

“You realize they sell food here, right?  You don’t have to look at me like I’m an appetizer,” Johnny whispered across the table dramatically.  You startled, looking around, but the waiter had left at some point during your daydream.  Oh gosh, did you drool?  You pressed the back of your hand to your face discreetly, relieved to find nothing of the sort.

Then your brain caught up to Johnny, and you looked up at him with a smirk, “You’re too big to be an appetizer.”

Johnny choked on a laugh, covering his mouth to hide his smile when the other diners looked your way.  When he appeared to have himself under control again, he eyed you from head to toe—or at least what he could see from across the table.  He shot you a grin, “You’ll find out soon enough, won’t you?”

You watched him through your lashes, not quite sure what to make of him anymore.  You’d had your fair share of fun with other guys, but never in a million years had you imagined flirting with Johnny so blatantly.  Let alone in a fancy five star restaurant like this.

A sudden presence at your side startled you, and you jumped a little when the waiter reached over your shoulder to set a dish down.  “Sorry for startling you,” he murmured, moving away slightly, but not before brushing your shoulder in apology.  “Should I leave you with this for now, or are you ready to order?”

Johnny’s eyes flashed, and you bit back a curse at the waiter’s truly stellar ability to interrupt.  “We’re fine, thank you,” you said, unable to stop watching Johnny.  Or his hand, slowly tightening into a fist on top of the table.

“Would you like to hear the specials tonight?”

You donned a polite smile, nodding at the waiter to continue.  While he read down the list of fancy-sounding entrées, you turned your smile on Johnny, who was vibrating in his seat again.  You could’ve sworn your water glasses were shaking, and you held back a giggle.  You uncrossed and recrossed your legs, extra slowly to make sure he got the message when you “accidentally” brushed his knee this time.  The vibrations stopped, and his eyes burned into you.

“Thank you, we’ll keep looking over the menu,” Johnny interrupted the waiter, his voice deeper than before.  Your smile only grew.

Once the waiter was out of earshot, you leaned in.  “Can we leave?  I can’t even kiss you here.”

“Yep, yes, absolutely,” Johnny said, standing up the second the words were out of your mouth.  He nearly upended the table, making you snort.  “Right now,” he nodded, striding for the exit.

You scrambled out of your chair, rushing after him.  “Johnny,” you hissed, grabbing his sleeve.  “We didn’t pay yet.”

He came to a halt in the hallway, and you nearly ran into his back.  Then Johnny turned around, and you became very aware of the semi-secluded location as he moved closer.  You squeaked out a panicked, “Not here!”  You backed away until he finally reached out, one hand circling your waist to reel you in.

Johnny’s eyes moved over your shoulder, then back to yours.  He smirked, leaning in close enough for you to feel his lips brushing your cheek as he murmured, “Tell the valet to get the car.  I’ll grab the wine.”

You could’ve sworn you felt his hand brush down your back, lower.  Your cheeks burned hotter.  But when you turned, Johnny’s broad shoulders were disappearing around the corner, and the waiter was hurrying in the opposite direction.

* * * * *

You ended up ditching the car and walking around the neighborhood.  You only looked slightly out of place with your high heels and makeup when you ended up at a tteokbokki joint.  You’d played rock paper scissors between that and burgers, and Johnny won, as usual.

After dinner, you were reasonably close to your apartment, so Johnny offered to walk you home. It felt like another one of your late-night adventures, except you were usually in sneakers. When your feet got tired, you stopped in the middle of the block to take off the killer heels, sighing in relief.  You slung the straps over your wrist, prepared to keep trudging along, when Johnny swooped in.  One second, you were on the ground, the next, you were admiring the top view of Johnny’s ass from where you were dangling over his shoulder.

“Johnny, what the fuck,” you asked breathlessly, dying of laughter.  And from his shoulder digging into your diaphragm.

“Are you crazy?  You could cut your feet open,” he scolded you.

“At least there’s a nice view,” you sighed, reaching down to pat his butt.

Johnny put a little bounce in his next step, and you grunted at the impact.  You could practically feel his smug little grin.  “Hands off the merchandise.”

“How is that fair?  You totally copped a feel back at the restaurant.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bull,” you said.  “You went all ‘alpha male’ with that nice waiter.”

Johnny huffed, “I wasn’t jealous.”

You grinned in victory.  “I never said you were, mister offering-up-information.  Now put me down, you caveman.”

Johnny’s grip on your thighs loosened, and his hands slid up to your waist, holding you tightly as he helped you back down.  You froze for a second when your feet hit the ground, not expecting to be face-to-face with him so suddenly.  “Wait right there,” Johnny said firmly, finally releasing your waist.

You blinked at him in confusion, watching as he slid his suit jacket off.  Your eyes widened when he reached for you, but it was only to wrap the jacket around your waist, tying the sleeves into a knot to hold it in place.

“There,” Johnny said, nodding at his handiwork.  Then he turned, crouching down slightly.  “Alright, princess, hop on.”

You beamed at him, not that he could see it.  It wouldn’t be a walk with Johnny if he didn’t end up carrying you at the end of the night, you chuckled to yourself.  You were fiercely grateful to Johnny for thinking of his jacket—you weren’t quite sure how long your skirt was, now that you were wrapped around him like a koala.

“Thanks, Johnny,” you mumbled, burying your face in his neck.  “You’re the bestest.”  You left a smacking kiss on his cheek, and he laughed, tightening his hold on your legs.

Finally, you arrived at your apartment building.  You slid your heels back on, balancing with one hand on Johnny’s arm.  “I’ll walk you up,” he said once you straightened.

But when you got to your door, you hesitated, unsure what to say.  Was this the part where you kissed him goodnight?  You were torn, so at odds with the way the night resembled your old friend dates, only now things were different.  What were you supposed to do?

“So,” Johnny drawled, leaning against the wall.  “Where’s my tip?”

You stared at him, incredulous.  “Your tip?” you repeated.

“Johnny’s chauffeur service isn’t free,” he said.  “And if I remember correctly, you still owe me for last time.”

You cocked a hip, smirking slightly.  “Any preferred payment methods?”

Johnny blew you an air kiss, and you made a show of catching it.  “I take cash or card,” he informed you.

“What a shame,” you murmured, dropping your purse in front of the door.  “I seem to have lost my wallet.”

He watched you carefully, barely blinking as you approached him, one slow step at a time.  “Apps?”

You stopped mere inches away, “Not a single one.”

He swallowed, and your eyes tracked the movement.  Your daydream from before came back with a vengeance—you bit your lip at the thought of marking him up.  Then you leaned in, resting one hand on his chest.  His heart pounded through the thin dress shirt.

“Will this do?” you asked, lips just barely brushing his.  Nothing else touched, aside from your fingertips on his sternum, but you could’ve sworn you felt him shiver.

Oh so slowly, Johnny reached out, hands ghosting over your hips.  You smiled against him, then melded your lips to his, bypassing whatever hesitations were holding you back.  What was the worst that could happen?

You felt Johnny teasing at the seam of your lips and gratefully opened for him.  He inhaled sharply when you inched forward, your chest brushing his.  You couldn’t hear anything but your heart racing.  And when his fingers dug into your hips, you fell into the kiss.  He pulled you in like a magnet until every part of you aligned with him.  Your limbs felt molten, burning at the contact.

Johnny pulled away, but not for long.  You gasped for air as his lips traced over your jawline, making their way to the delicate skin beneath your ear.  He pressed hot kisses there until your neck arched back obediently.  And when he nipped at your throat, you whimpered.  Thoughtlessly, your hips rocked forward.  Johnny gave voice to a deep groan, so you did it again.

Growling lightly, Johnny curled an arm around your waist to pull you harder against him.  All of the breath left your body at the feel of his growing hardness against your belly.  You fisted your hands in his collar, tugging him away from your neck.  You caught a glimpse of his kiss-swollen lips and blown out pupils, then dove back in for more.

While your mouth danced with his, your hands dragged southward.  Your fingernails caught on a button or two as you traced the muscle beneath.  Now Johnny’s hips were bucking into yours.  You grinned savagely into the kiss.  You’d just reached his belt when Johnny ripped his mouth away from yours.  “Woah, woah,” he gasped.  “Slow down, there.”

You panted for air, “What’s wrong?”

Both of you were breathing hard, and you were having a hard time ignoring the elephant in the room.  Er, hallway.  “You’re not trying to take advantage of me on the first date, are you?” Johnny asked with a breathy chuckle.

You laughed softly, tilting your chin back to get a good look at him.  “Is it really taking advantage if you want it, too?”  You smirked at him, rolling your hips forward to emphasize your point.

He watched you through half-lidded eyes, and you could’ve sworn you felt him throb.  But Johnny, ever the gentleman, smoothed his hand down your back, resting his head back against the wall rather than picking up where you left off.  “Cut me some slack, I’m not wearing my sexy underwear tonight,” he said with a crooked smile.

Oh no, now you had heart eyes for the man.  You pecked his chin to hide your cheesy grin.  “You let me know when you are, hmm?” you hummed, placing another kiss to the base of his throat.

“Princess, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for you.”

You giggled, leaning back in his arms.  “Am I so scary?”

Johnny sobered, meeting your gaze.  “I just don’t want to mess anything up.  Not with you.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” you smiled at him.  “I trust you too much.”

“Oh yeah?  You still haven’t told me what you wished for on your fourteenth birthday,” Johnny taunted.

You tilted your head, thinking back.  “I didn’t tell you because I was hopelessly in love with you at the time,” you confessed.  “Now that’s out in the open, I guess you can know.”

Johnny blinked, taken aback.  “Even then?”

“Johnny, I think I’ve loved you forever,” you said, staring up at him.  “So of course I wished for the same thing every year.”

“What was it?”

Your smile widened, “Well, it already came true.  You said it, too.”

* * * * *

Masterlist

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom season 2, episode 17-20 thoughts! finishing up season two! the finale is the THIRD 2-PARTER OF SEASON 2. that's so many! I wonder how many season 3 will have?

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-UERGH WHY DOES VLAD HAVE AN AI WITH MADDIE'S FACE ON IT. SOOO CREEPY. AND MORE 'CREATIONS' waiiiit. vlad is Dr. Frankenstein! (despite his ghost design obviously referencing vampires) HE HAS 'CREATIONS' HE MAKES THEN WONT TAKE REAL RESPONSIBILITY FOR!!! this bitch.

-danny was late and his friends immediately start going off about how hes inconsiderate, and has been treating them like sidekicks??? he just overslept, my god. chill. even if he has, be nicer about talking about it with him?? he really can't help that he sometimes has to chase the ghosts, or has a secret identity to protect...

-'what kind of ghost haunts a miniature golf course' umm. me as a ghost. next question

-imagine going home and theres a tiny child on your bed claiming to be your cousin. with as many cousins I have, I would probably believe her. but the 'ran away from home' BIT....SHES 12?? SHES SO TINY. I hate that they have her belly out in her ghost form, but I like how her colors are asymmetrical. something about her design...maybe the proportions?? are weird to me...anyway danny was good to feed her, but he shouldve taken her to his parents FIRST. or, tbh, probably jazz. (JAZZ DIDNT EVEN GET TO MEET HER!!! NOOO. I mean she said she'll be BACK BUT STILL)

-ANYWAY. shes voiced by AnnaSophia Robb, the girl who was in because of winn dixie, played as violet from charlie and the chocolate factory, and was the girl from bridge to terrabithia. (the movie that made me cry hysterically when I was 12 and I never watched it again because it Broke Me!) thats super cool.

-vlad sucks: the episode, basically. what's new!! I love how he's like, I'm Not A Villain. *immediately cuts to him torturing danny to make him transform, to get mid-transformation DNA, to perfect a Clone.* *immediately shows that he doesnt give a shit about his new daughter Dani and just wants a ''more perfect clone'' and will put her in danger to get that. will let her DIE to get that*

-Dani is danny's clone and is a girl? transgenderism....one of them has to be trans. or they both are.

-dani just. leaving at the end. WHAT? SHES 12. DONT JUST. NO!!! SHE WAS PROBABLY JUST BORN, A MONTH AGO AT MOST, RIGHT?? SHE NEEDS...SOMEWHERE TO LIVE. MONEY? FOOD?? A FAMILY?? AN EDUCATION???! WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S LEAVING!!! OKAY BYE I GUESS!!! D: concern!!!

-the next ep opens with skulker chasing a ghost down. ...does skulker count as a ghost hunter in the way valerie and danny do? I mean, sure, he hunts the good guys too, but he. he hunts ghosts...also, we haven't seen his Real Form since his debut episode! tiny...

-the guys in white are back! ngl, I assumed they were a gag for that one episode. you're telling me they might actually be a threat? ok.

-valerie in her lil nasty burger uniform looks so cute!! glad shes not in that mascot uniform this time. I guess she stopped hiding that she's working there now?

-gregor having white hair, dressed in black and white...and green eyes...sam has a Type, I guess.

-danny being unnecessarily hostile about gregor. danny!!! hes been nice so far. he looks a little...tall to be 14, but. danny doesnt know anything about him! (he does Suspect, but...you cant just spy on people and be rude to them from a hunch.) also, gregor kissed her, and when she freaked out, he was like 'oh no!! sorry, we can take it slow! I understand!' which was NICE. I hate jealousy plots still tho.

-altho. umm. tucker, being concerned about danny spying on them??? SAM AND YOU WERE SPYING ON DANNY AND VALERIE A FEW EPISODES AGO!!!!! im not saying its RIGHT, but dont be a hypocrite!!! AND THEN SAM BEING MAD ABOUT IT, TOO.

-DANNY IS A 7 ON THE SCALE OF ECTOPLASMIC POWER!!! out of 10? so I want to know where the other ghosts rank...I mean it's a list from the guys in white, so, it may not even be accurate, like, they havent seen ALL of his powers, have they?

-Lancer being like 'im not cooperating with the FEDS' until they said they could access his tax records. they already did that joke with jack, but like, its still funny. kings of tax evasion.

-tucker's aggressive third-wheeling. but gregor being super into it. gregor/tucker is the real ship here. then gregor kissing danny on both cheeks after hugging him. bi poly king gregor. (he does turn out to be a liar with a phoney accent. unsurprising, BUT THE CONCEPT OF HIM BEING GENUINE AND THEM ALL DATING IS FUN)

-THE...GUYS IN WHITE THINKING GREGOR IS DANNY PHANTOM. LMAOOO. GET HIS ASS. or,, Elliot. lmfao

-sam saying tucker is part of the package because theyre friends was super sweet <3 but also 'part of the package'...polyships are obviously the solution to these dumb jealousy/love triangle plots.

-danny crashed a whole plane. the collateral damage...

-is he....

-you know....

.... (ITS NOT GAY IF YOU'RE DOING IT TO PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE YOU'RE NOT, AND LIE TO A GIRL. RIGHT? he was getting a little too into pretending to enjoy tucker's company, and the above...c'mon, guy.)

-lmao, freakshow is in actual prison. I didn't expect a follow up, or for him to show back up! in the finale of this season, too!

-THE SICK TATTOO GHOST IS NAMED LYDIA!!! more Lore On her. freakshow seemed genuinely concerned about her. also, is she mute? I don't think she talked the first time we saw her, either. and we didn't know freakshow 'envied' ghosts, either, the first time, we just knew he was controlling them. interesting!

-...they literally stole the infinity gauntlet from marvel and called it the reality gauntlet. is that legal. what the fuck. even with the gems in the lil slots, having different powers...they had freakshow in jail, but didnt check his pockets??! hes just still in his lil outfit??? what kind of ...oh, its in amity park. yeah, all of the adults are idiots, okay, sure.

-'freakshow!' 'in the anemic flesh!' dude take some iron pills then. also, sure, the red eyes could be contacts for his aesthetic, but the whites of his eyes are yellow! does he have jaundice?! he severely needs more...like, every kind of vitamin. (this is what im worried about as freakshow attacks danny with giant robots)

-again, goth circus is a sick theme, and I love his goth train.

-oh FUCK every single person saw danny transform. on a stage. including his parents via TV. oh god. the guys in white and immediately like 'youre coming in for experiments!' SCARY. at least the crowd is willing to help him to escape...perks of now being a local celeb! even the kids at school are accepting :) this is what, the third time his family has found out? its always been an alt timeline tho. and danny fully intending to just rewrite things again instead of...I dunno, trying to roll with it this time? hes really worried his family won't accept him, huh...

-'maybe our son IS THE GHOST BOY, but its not as if our family's ghostly activities have EVER PUT YOUR FAMILIES IN DANGER' maddie. mmmmmmmmmmmm. okay.

-danny 100% prepared to run away from home because of this :( oh :( and saying his parents are 'looking for him, or a scalpel to dissect him with' ouch...

-THE GUYS IN WHITE TRYING TO ARREST A 14 YEAR OLD. fuck da feds.

-side note (another one about voice actors...) freakshow's voice actor, Jon Cryer, was lex luthor in pretty much every DC tv show, which is why I recognized his voice, because my dad loves those shows so I've seen a good bit of them without seeking them out...)

-the old man saying 'hey, i still had minutes left!' and danny saying 'you gotta watch those roaming charges!' about danny destroying the people in the diner's phones so no one could report seeing him...would kids today understand these things. can you even BUY minutes anymore...I remember my first phone being a flip phone, and the fact I always had minutes when my sister ran out super fast, because I didnt have friends calling or texting me like she did...:/

-the fentons being genuinely like 'why didnt danny trust us and tell us this, we love him :(' and JAZZ LAYING INTO THEM WITH THE 'DISSECTION/MOLECULE BY MOLECULE' LINES. LITERALLLLY. they need to apologize

-technically, lydias stronger than you! -jazz lesbianism moments! when did you even learn her name!!! but also get freakshows ass. lydia is also cooler looking. looove her design sm still.

-jazz psychoanalyzing freakshow... (also, her also having ghost envy? au where jazz is a ghost!! id like to see it)

-im glad the kids still got to go to their respective vacation things, even if they cant really stick around and enjoy them much...

-furry: confirmed. (also tucker calling her hot. tucker is a furry confirmed)

-danny being mad someone at the comic con is selling comics of him without permission, lmfao. give him his royalties!

-freakshow > thanos because hes a drama clown and does use his gauntlet to be FLASHY AND DRAMATIC.

-jazz's 'USE PYSCOLOGY' to danny about freakshow LMAOO. AND THEN IT WORKING. but, oh, freakshow's ghost form sucks. I like him as a clown better tbh. good thing danny took away his ghost powers!

-his parents hugging him and saying theyre proud :"( and saying 'of course you lied to us, we never gave you a reason not to!' and saying they were in the wrong basically for always talking about hurting ghosts aaaa :""(

-then he WIPED THEIR MEMORIES AGAIN!!! FUCK. I can understand him wiping the goverments/student bodies' memories, but why his parents?? they were being accepting!! ARGHHH. season 3 couldve been them all trying to adjust to them knowing!

-I know, on a meta level the showrunners probably wanted to just reset things to the status quo of him having a secret identity. But. We've been doing that for (2) seasons, I'd love if season 3 could be like, his parents adjusting to this and trying way harder to learn more and accept it (and the shenanigans that could come from that) and for fun, if he didn't wipe the students memories, it could be him being popular for a while, then everyone slowly realizing, oh, he's still Danny. Like. he might have ghost powers but hes Just The Same Guy instead of putting him on a pedestal (and seeing them all try and help him hide it from the giw/people who don't know!!)

-fuck they didn't even explain WHY he wiped everyone except sam, tucker and jazz's memories. he just Did It right when his parents were saying they loved/accepted him!! and sam and tucker didnt question it at all!!! HELLO??? very annoyed about this turn of events.

-anyway. onto season 3! I know its shorter than the first two seasons, and is the last season... I might just do it in 2 bursts if I can... :3c depends on the episodes' content and how much I want to say about each!

[brasskier]

First chapter of my six-part fluffy geraskefer modern AU holiday series spanning five years of holiday celebrations is up! 

Christmas 2016, or The One Where Flights are Cancelled. After a string of delayed flights and closed rail lines, Geralt, his new music teacher friend Jaskier, and his on-again/off-again girlfriend Yennefer find themselves trapped on Christmas Eve. Thank god for duty-free stores.

Read it below the cut or on my ao3

When Geralt first met Jaskier, checking an ID he was almost certain had to be fake (it wasn't; Jaskier was twenty-four), he slid off his coat to reveal an incredibly garish reindeer-emblazoned tie. At Geralt's judgemental stare, he shrugged and said, "work party."

"Pre-gaming or post-gaming?" Geralt gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Post." He settled onto the barstool, called for a Blue Moon - "and don't forget the orange slice!" - and let out an exhausted sigh before returning his gaze to Geralt. "It's just - it's my first year teaching, and I'm not really used to the political fraternizing, which is hard enough. But they nearly cut the music program before they ended up hiring me, so not everyone's exactly happy to see me there." He scrubbed a hand against his face, noting silently that he needed to shave. "Sorry, didn't mean to chew your ear off." Geralt shrugged again from the doorway. It was a slow, dull night, the usually thriving college-town bar nearly dead over winter break. 

"Not like I don't get paid for it." This elicited a chuckle out of Jaskier, who seemed to relax some. "You teach music?" 

"Yeah." He smiled fondly. "High school. Had every intention of making it big and touring the world, or maybe becoming principal trombone at the Phil. Just wasn't in the cards." 

"I'm not exactly familiar with classroom politics, but I know someone who might have some pointers." He was referring to, as he'd later reveal to Jaskier, his on-again/off-again, city councilwoman girlfriend. 

"I do like Christmas, you know," Jaskier's voice came again from the bar, between sips at his beer. "Just not the parties." 

"Humbug." Jaskier giggled again, swiping the foam mustache off his lip with the back of his hand. "Geralt, by the way."

"Jaskier." He sat in contemplative silence for a moment. "What time do you get off?" Geralt's brow furrowed, startled by the question. "It's just - I just - sorry if that was a little forward." He heaved a sigh. "My apartment's decorated. Thought you might like to see it." 

"Hmm." He glanced down at his watch, then up at the bar, empty save for Jaskier and a handful of other patrons. "Ten." Jaskier's face lit up. 

Decorated, as it turns out, was an understatement, and Geralt couldn't help but gawk as Jaskier led him through the threshold of his tiny apartment. A beautiful, grand tree stood in the corner of the living room and stretched so tall it nearly scraped the ceiling. Tinsel and garlands adorned the doorways and the arch leading to the kitchen, a buffalo plaid throw was carefully folded on the back of the couch, and a single stocking hung just below the television. Lights snaked around the perimeter of the room, warm white and snowflake-shaped. 

"Do you like it?" Jaskier asked pleadingly, shattering the protracted silence.

"It's cozy," Geralt remarked. It really was. He flopped unceremoniously onto the couch while Jaskier disappeared into his kitchen.

"Jack or moscato?" He called from the archway, holding up a bottle of whiskey in one hand and white wine in the other. "Sorry, I don't have much right now." 

"Jack is fine." He gazed around the room absentmindedly. "On the rocks." Jaskier returned before long, pressing a glass of whiskey into his hand before sipping at his own glass of wine. 

"Wanna watch something? I have Netflix." Geralt, against his better judgement, shrugged and agreed.

Jaskier was back at the bar not even a week later, excitement flashing across his face when he laid eyes on Geralt. To his credit, Geralt was keenly aware that the man had never visited the bar in his life prior to last week, let alone frequented the establishment. He just decided some things were best left unsaid.

Speaking of unsaid, Jaskier was in love - it was obvious from the way he’d follow Geralt around like a lost puppy. Started lingering around the bar every evening, choosing the seat nearest the door every time, inviting Geralt back to his apartment just as frequently. And Geralt would usually accept, watch stupid movies through all hours of the night until his new music teacher friend inevitably passed out, and then silently creep out of the apartment.

It was three days before Christmas, and the chatter of choice for the evening was holiday plans. Jaskier, as it turned out, had a flight to catch back to Jersey. 

"The worst part's taking NJ Transit down to Lettenhove," he groaned, nursing a bay breeze complete with the little paper umbrella. "It's always delayed coming out of Newark." Geralt himself had plans back in the mountains of Vermont, mainly dinner and then watching his younger brothers play football with nothing but shorts on in the freezing cold over a few cigars with his old man. 

"I have a layover in Newark," he remarked idly. Yennefer - who had hit it off interestingly with Jaskier, to say the least - was heading to New York, and he'd arranged his first flight so they'd be on it together. Which meant it was way earlier than he liked.

"What time? Maybe we'll run into each other." Jaskier looked way too excited by that possibility, leaning back on the bar with all the composure of a middle-schooler. Geralt, despite his best efforts, couldn't help but find it endearing.

"8:15," he grumbled, exasperated just thinking about having to be at the airport at 6am. Jaskier's head perked up.

"Delta?" He asked, grin growing impossibly bigger by the minute. Geralt nodded, and Jaskier was already tearing through his phone to pull up the app. "What gate?" 

"Hold on." He fished his own phone from his pocket with a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure his boss wasn't nearby, and pulled up the screenshot of the boarding pass Yen had sent him. "B4?" Jaskier nearly fell off the barstool.

"Geralt," he squeaked, struggling to right himself. "We're on the same flight." Just as soon as he'd regained his composure he lost it again, doubling over with laughter. 

"So's Yennefer," he added, and Jaskier shrugged.

"Well, then I'll be sure to pack my trombone." Geralt couldn't stop the snicker that escaped him at the sight of Jaskier's shit-eating grin.

For as much as he might wax poetic about the prospect, Jaskier absolutely despised a white Christmas. Which, just as well, is exactly what they got. He was shivering in just the time it took to flee his Uber and shuffle into the waiting warmth of the airport. Security went blessedly quickly, as it tended to at six in the morning - precisely why he settled on such an early flight. (Nevermind the fact his parents practically demanded it of him.) 

He was nursing a venti peppermint mocha latte - light and sweet, with an extra shot of espresso - when Geralt appeared at the edge of the terminal, and he patted his instrument fondly when Yennefer waltzed up behind him. 

"Geralt!" He exclaimed, rising from his seat and wrapping his free arm around him. "Yennefer!" She held a hand up as he moved towards her.

"Not so fast. I'm not sure if I like you yet." His face fell briefly, but he laughed anyway. 

"Can take the girl out of New York but not the New York–" he began to joke, but Yennefer cut him off with a roll of her eyes.

"Save it. I'm from Connecticut." That finally, properly, seemed to shut him up, and he nestled back into his seat with his coffee. She softened a little. "Where are you going?" 

"Me? Just south Jersey," he perked up. Geralt looked like he had something to add, but before he could the gate attendant started boarding calls.

The flight was thankfully brief, if a little turbulent. Geralt spent the journey playing peacekeeper in the middle seat, while Yennefer idly read some news articles she'd saved on her phone, and Jaskier slept soundly against the window, curled around his trombone. 

It was midday when they arrived in Newark. Yennefer was teasing Jaskier for managing to pass out despite the massive cup of caffeine and sugar he'd consumed, Jaskier was trying his best to put together a groggy retort, and Geralt decidedly just wanted them to shut up. At least they were all about to part ways, and he could enjoy his next flight in – shit.

"Flights to Vermont are cancelled," Jaskier's words, urgent and harried, snapped him out of his thoughts. 

"Fuck," he growled under his breath, eyeing the departure board. Sure enough, in bright red letters, his flight was delayed until further notice, with a little asterisk telling him to download the app to keep up-to-date with any developments. 

"I'd offer to let you join me," Yennefer began with a deep sigh. "But you know how my parents feel about you." Geralt ran a hand down his face. Just his luck, wasn't it. So much for cigars with his old man.

"You can come with me." Jaskier's voice was so uncertain, so small, he almost didn't hear it. "My parents haven't had a chance to hate you yet." Geralt groaned.

"Sure. Why not?" He forced a smile across his gruff features, and Jaskier met him with a toothy grin in return.

"Beats this shithole." He glanced around, trying to find his bearings in the busy airport. "Let's grab some lunch before we head out, yeah?" Geralt nodded before turning to Yennefer.

"Joining us?" She shrugged.

"As a wise man once said, 'sure. Why not?'" The wait at McDonald's wasn't terrible, so they shifted eagerly into line, and all but devoured their food the moment it was in their hands. 

"Right, so," Jaskier began between mouthfuls of Big Mac. "Northeastern Corridor down to Trenton, and my parents will pick us up there." He peered over his burger at Yennefer.

"Northeastern Corridor to NY Penn," she replied flatly, the straw of her drink stained with deep burgundy lipstick. They tossed their trash and headed off towards the train terminal, and, at the very least, Geralt would only now have to deal with one of them at a time. Except god, it seemed, was laughing at him that Christmas Eve. 

"Are you kidding me!" He'd never seen Jaskier so worked up - though, granted, he'd only known him for a month. "NJ Transit's down!?" He flung his arms about dramatically before squatting right in the middle of the station, head in his hands. Yennefer quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Is he… Okay?" Geralt shrugged, fitted a palm on Jaskier's shoulder. He gazed up at him, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked. 

"Fine, fine." He pressed his hands against his knees and shifted to his feet. "Now what?"

"We're stuck here," Geralt groaned and heaved a breathy chuckle. "Merry Christmas, huh?"

"Wait…" Yennefer held a finger up, face drawn in thought. "Won't they put you up in a hotel?" Geralt hummed, and ran a finger along the massive, glowing map kiosk, searching for the nearest Delta help center.

They did, in fact, put him up in a hotel, and he did, in fact, agree to let Yennefer and Jaskier tag along. Not before stopping at one of the duty-free shops and snagging as much overpriced liquor as his wallet would allow, of course. Jaskier cast an appraising eye at his haul, shook his head, and wordlessly extracted his trombone from its case. Thank god for all those solos he'd memorized in college.

"What the hell are you–" Yennefer began, but cut herself off when the first dollar bills landed at his feet. "Oh." A few more followed, and then some more, and within a few minutes a crowd had gathered, phones out and pointed at him. He ate up the attention, playing to the crowd for another twenty or so minutes before excusing himself and collecting the cash that had collected at his feet. He bought yet more alcohol, and they departed for the hotel.

It was small and held only the bare essentials - queen bed, TV, bathroom, and the world's smallest fridge. He popped open a bottle of whiskey before he even bothered to kick his shoes off, tilting his head back and taking a deep swig before grabbing the bottle of wine still in the bag and holding it at arm's length for whoever wanted it next. 

"Thank god," Yennefer sighed, yanking it from his hand. It was a deep red that matched her lips. Jaskier dumped his bags in the corner and fished out one of his bottles of vodka. 

"Cheers," he called, raising the bottle to the air, and Geralt and Yennefer held theirs up as well, clinking the three together. "To Christmas!" They dissolved into laughter, shoes discarded randomly across the floor, limbs splayed across the bed, and alcohol sploshing precariously. 

When Geralt cracked his eyes open the next morning, early light was slipping through the blinds, a series of texts from Delta informed him his new flight was set to leave in four hours, and, well. Yennefer was naked in his arms, which he supposed wasn't entirely surprising. He shifted up against the headboard, rubbing sleep from his eyes and gently extricating himself from her unconscious grasp, jarred by the rattling of liquor bottles. His feet were about to finally hit the floor when his heart nearly stopped, and he paused urgently. Yennefer wasn't the only one he'd shared the room with…

"G'morning?" Came a breathy yawn, and soft brown hair poked up from the blankets. Fuck. He planted his feet firmly below him and scanned the room for his scattered clothing. "G'ralt?" Brown hair was followed by scrunched eyes, a half-ajar mouth, and a splotch of pink on his cheek where his hand has been pressed against it in his sleep. Geralt cursed under his breath and plucked up his underwear.

"Did we…?" He half-asked, not daring to finish the question. Jaskier - naked, for the love of god, stalked around the bed to Geralt's side and pressed a kiss on his cheek.

"Yes," he said warmly.

"All of us?" Jaskier nodded and hummed, following suit in tracking the remains of the previous day's outfit. "And… did we… did we like it?" Jaskier laughed, soft and breathy.

"We had a great time, Geralt. Relax." He slid his sweater over his head.

"Right." Finally he spotted his pants, and stepped into them unsteadily. "Suppose we should wake her?" Jaskier shrugged.

"Probably." They roused Yennefer, who also seemed to have a better recollection of the night before than Geralt, and was none too surprised. Breakfast was a brief affair in the hotel lobby, all of them downing cup after cup of shitty black coffee and basking in afterglow. Finally, at long last, they bid their goodbyes and parted ways. Geralt could finally get some peace, quiet, and alone time. On the flight to Vermont, he found himself missing the two anyway.

[phantoms-lair]

Scooby and the Gang having quirks? That would be cool. Like, four superpowered kids and their probably also superpowered dog are amateur detectives instead of heroes. But they frequently run into other pro heroes, (like Scooby Doo team up) and have to help in anyway they can without breaking any quirk related laws. (Which they probably already do on a daily basis but they dont want to do that around pros, could get arrested.)

The signs had been there for quite a while, but none of them had picked up on them. At the time it seemed like another internet hoax. A baby that glowed in Japan. A woman who could create ice in Italy. But in the age of video editing, no one took them too seriously.

It didn’t become real for the gang until about a year and a half after the glowing baby started the craze of people declaring they had super powers. They had been on a road trip and Fred had been repairing a tire when his lug wrench snapped.

“Oh no,” he moaned. A spare tire he had, a spare wrench no so much. “I think we need to call the auto service."

“Like, let me.” Shaggy made a gesture like he was pulling something from thin air and grasped an identical wrench from the air.

“How did you do that?” Fred asked, impressed. “You’re wearing short sleeves, so you couldn’t have been hiding it up them.”Shaggy shrugged. “Like dunno, man. I want something, I reach for it, and it’s there.”

“Very funny, Shaggy.” Velma plucked the wrench from his hand. “Carbon steel, just like Fred’s old one.”

“You can tell, just by looking?” Fred asked, even more impressed.

“Certainly. It’s not that hard, you just focus on something and you can tell, you know?”

“No.” came the response from all of them.

“Really?” Velma asked, surprised. “It’s really not that hard.”

“It’s not that it’s ‘not that hard’, Velma. It’s flat out impossible.” Daphne explained, leaning out the Mystery Machine’s window.

“No, it’s not. I do it all the time.” Velma argued back.

“Hey, do you think this could be related to that superhero thing?” Fred asked, a note of excitement in his voice. “With people randomly developing super powers?”

“Fred, that’s not a real thing.” Velma rolled her eyes.

“Well, why don’t you test out whether Shaggy’s ‘power’ works while Fred fixes the wheel.” Daphne offered. 

“I’m telling you super powers don’t exist.” 

~

“I can’t believe this exists.” Velma said with tonelessly as she looked at the building in front of her

“Like me either.” Shaggy shuddered. “Like in comic books the government creating a registration list for supers always precedes real bad stuff.”

“At least you guys have it easy.” Fred pointed out “Tell them your power, demonstrate, then you get your registration card. Daph and I have to go through a whole battery to figure out if we even have a power.”

“I guess we meet up back here when we’re done.” Daphne gave them all a hug. “Good luck everyone.”

~

“I have a power!” Daphne ran out, waving a tiny plastic card. “You know how I haven’t been falling into trap doors as much anymore? I have some kind of radar and I’ve been subconsciously sensing the right way to go.”

“That’s great,” Velma said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster for the laws of physics breaking further.

Daphne knew how she felt, though, and didn’t take offense. “Shaggy’s not out yet? I figured he’d be fast, like you.”

“He was. But someone heard Scooby talking and turns out that’s not normal. So now they’re investigating animals developing powers.” 

“What even is normal?” Daphne wondered out loud.

“Not the same as it was five years ago,” Velma agreed sadly.

It was about half an hour later before Fred came out. “Hey, where’re the guys?”“Sweet Freedom!” Shaggy and Scooby all but bounded out of the building. 

“That took a while. They really weren’t ready for a dog with powers, were they?” Daphne smiled.

“Nah, they took that pretty well. Even had a metal working guy who could make a dog tag for him.”

Scooby moved his tag aside to reveal a new one under it, identifying him as a Class C Shapeshifter.

“Class C?” Velma inquired.

“Minor body changes, can’t change color.” Shaggy shrugged. “What kept us so long was the lectures.” he groaned.

“Lectures? What lectures?” Daphne looked to Velma and Fred to see if they had any idea what Shaggy was talking about.“‘Creating cash is still counterfeiting’, ‘Don’t make enough gold to crash the economy’. And like, it was heavily hinted I should go easy on making jewels and stuff.”

“I guess your power is kind of easy to abuse.” Fred admitted.

Daphne put a hand on Shaggy’s shoulder. “Diamond’s values are artificially inflated so make as many as you want.”

“Like, I’d rather just go get a hamburger or twelve.”

“At least something still makes sense.” Velma muttered.

“This is really bugging you, isn’t it?” Fred asked.

“Of course it is! Superpowers make no sense. Everyone in the world getting random ones? Even less sense. This is not something science can explain.”

“Yet” Fred added. “This isn’t something Science can explain yet. They’ll figure it out. Who knows, maybe you’ll be at the forefront of the discovery.”

Velma gave a weak smile. “You always know what to say, Jones. Come one, let’s get Shaggy his burgers before he wastes away to nothing.”

Shaggy and Scooby were in the back of the Mystery Machine before anyone could say anything else.

The others laughed and headed to the van. Fred was secretly relieved that everything had distracted his friends from the small plastic card in his wallet. For the most part it was the same as theirs, Photo, State ID Number, Date of birth. The only difference was next to Power: was the word ‘None’.

~

“I suppose it would become inevitable that the bad guys started using their powers,” Daphne sighed as the illusionist was packed into the back of the police car. 

“But we solved it anyway.” Velma was grinning. “We just needed to expand on what we previously considered was possible.” 

“And, like, we even did it before the heroes showed up.” Shaggy grinned. Probably the most predictable thing in all this were the real life superheroes starting to show up. New laws were being shaped, but right now it was a little bit of chaos. Still, they lived in a world with superheroes and Shaggy couldn’t help but think that was cool.

Two officers approached them. “Looks like everything all wrapped up. We just need to straighten up something on you statements.” The younger one said kindly.

“On your statements you were asked to write down your powers, but one of you didn’t see the need to comply.” The older glared at Fred who shrunk away.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, I just-”

“Tell me what your power is, now.” 

Fred felt his mind haze over. “I don’t have one. I’m just normal.”

The cop raised his eyebrow in disbelief. “Really? That must feel pretty terrible.”

“It does. I feel like dead weight weighing everyone down.”

“For the love of God, Frank, knock it off.” The younger cop shook his partner and the cloud lifted from Fred’s mind. 

He snapped back into reality and realized the gang had closed ranks around him. Velma and Daphne were on either side, Shaggy behind him with a hand on his shoulder, and Scooby in front of him, hackles raised.  Then he remembered what the cop had made him say and felt shame start to well up inside him. Sure he had been jealous, but it was okay as long as he never voiced those feelings. Only now someone had taken control of his tongue and forced the words out.

“We should be fine, why don’t you kids head on home.” The younger cop waved them off and pulled his partner away.

“You know none of us think you’re dead weight, don’t you Fred?” Daphne asked softly.

“I know. It’s just in my head.”  Fred had never felt so small in his life. “Can we go home? Please?”

~

The Gang never brought the incident up again. They’d never been specially showy with their powers (or quirks as they were coming to be known), mostly out of deference to Velma’s discomfort. Now it was complete radio silence. Fred was grateful on one level that his friends were that considerate over something so amazing, but still wished Officer Frank had never made him say anything. He couldn’t help resenting the man, and had taken to letting Velma do most of the talking to law enforcement. He felt a little cowardly over it, but figured with Scooby and Shaggy scared of everything under the sun he was allowed this.

They had just figured out the mystery of the ‘Banshee’ haunting the old shack and were at Fred’s favorite part - setting the trap.

“Okay, I think all we need is about a foot more twine and I think this trap is set.” Fred looked at his handiwork proudly.

“Like, bad news, Fred. We’re out of twine.” Shaggy said sadly.

“What do you mean out of twine?” Fred asked. It didn’t make sense. Sure Shaggy couldn’t conjure something like an engine, but twine was barely any effort.

“I brought up everything in the Mystery Machine. There’s none left, man.” Shaggy shrugged.

“But can’t you just make more?”

“Oh. I, like, don’t do that anymore.” Shaggy hunched his shoulders a bit.

“What do you mean you don’t do that anymore? That’s your quirk. It’s- wait.” He thought none of them were talking about their powers. What if-? “Did you guys stop using your powers, because of me?”

The silence that met him told him all he needed to know. “Okay, no. We are not doing this.”

“Fred, if our having quirks make you feel bad, then we don’t need them. You’re way more important to us than that.” Daphne insisted.

“Look. Yes, I’m upset that I don’t have a power. I’ll even go so far as to say I’m jealous that you guys do. But at no point did I want you guys to feel like you had to give up your powers. I mean, there’s plenty else to be jealous of. Velma, you’re so brilliant, sometimes I feel like I can barely add two and two together. It’s hard not to feel plain when Daphne lights up a room with her amazing personality and ability to coordinate an outfit to look as amazing on the outside as she is on the inside. And it would definitely be nice to be able to eat twice my body weight and never worry about gaining a pound like Shag and Scooby do.”

“But I would never want Velma to dumb herself down, Daphne to make herself dull, or Shaggy and Scooby to not eat as much. Because those are quirks of being you, and your powers are a part of that now. You’re all so amazing, and now you’re even more amazing, and I don’t want to take any of that away from you. I know my insecurities are all in my head, but if you guys have to give up parts of yourself for me? Then I really am weighing you down and I refuse to let that happen. Ever.”

Before he knew what was happening, Fred found himself in the middle of a group hug.

“Oh hey, What do you know? Looks like we had more twine after all.” Shaggy slipped the couple of feet of twine he had conjured into Fred’s hand.

“Great.” Fred grinned. “Let’s go catch us a banshee.”

~

“They’re approaching fast. Shaggy and Scooby are about ten yards away. The Banshee is a yard behind them.” Daphne had her eyes shut as she concentrated on the image her radar was sending her.

“Let us know when they’re clear.” Fred held one rope and Velma the other. With Daphne’s quirk, it was easy to avoid accidentally capturing the boys in their traps.

“Now!”

As Shaggy and Scooby sailed past, Fred and Velma pulled and the Banshee was launched off the floor and into a net, which twisted around before being deposited in a hay baler, leaving the banshee trapped and unable to move.

“Call it in, guys. We got her.”

Soon enough the police arrived, along with a token force from the Hero’s Union.

“As you can see, we’ve caught the so-called Banshee terrorizing the area. Or should I say, Lanie Mayfair.” Velma pulled the mask off the so-called banshee. “She claimed she’d never gone near Baker’s Shack for fear of the banshee, but the soil on her shoes was the exact composition of the mud outside the shack. The feeling of dread and fear people reported were actually a low level psychic quirk that inspired those feelings.” That’s why they had to call in the Hero’s Union. Any crime with quirks used had to go through them. “The Banshee’s wail was prerecorded, and played over a series of speakers, including one hidden in the Banshee’s choker.” 

“But we checked the records when the reports first came in. No one currently in the area has a quirk like that.” One of the Hero’s Union reps pointed out.

“Because she kept it a secret. I bet if you looked up Lanie’s records her power would be listed as ‘None’. Lanie’s an experienced conwoman. She knew how useful her quirk would be and pretended not to have one during registration. A quirk like that would be easy to overlook since it wouldn’t produce a visible or physical effect.”

“Very good Velma. But you’re wrong on one count.” Lanie grinned nastily. “It’s not a minor psychic quirk.” That was all the warning they got before a wave of pure despair shot out of her.

Fred felt his knees buckling under him. All those insecurities Frank had brought up, his lower self worth, jealousy, and guilt over being jealous, flooded to the surface once more. But he shoved it down. He had laid those demons to rest. He looked up and noticed everyone else wasn’t faring so well, not even the police or heroes. Most looked full of despair, with some weeping openly. Fred thought Shaggy was doing a little better, only to realize that while he didn’t look miserable, he didn’t look anything, as if there was no life in him.

 “See how pathetic you are?” Lanie asked haughtily. “How completely wretched and worthless your life is?”

“Don’t you dare say that about any of them!” Fred snarled, rising to his feet. “My friends are the most amazing people on the planet! They’ve - we’ve put away dozens of low end criminals like you away. I mean, look at you. We’ve got you trapped and your quirk certainly isn’t going to help you escape. Seems we’re doing better than you.”Lanie’s jaw had dropped and the others were starting to rouse from whatever stupor they had been put into.

“We need to get to Fred.” Velma, who had been nearest to Lanie, forced herself up and pushed herself off the baler and towards him. On the way she grabbed Daphne and pulled her along. Shaggy had snapped out of his unresponsive state and he and Scooby were closing ranks too. Fred didn’t think he need the protection, she was still stuck in the bale, after all, but he appreciated having his friends by his side.

“You’re finished Lanie, and your two-bit quirk isn’t going to save you,” Daphne snapped, anger clear in her voice.

“Lanie...Mayfair.” One of the fallen heroes was back on his feet, though shaky. He headed towards the gang. “This is your only warning. Release your quirk.”

“No! How are you doing this?! All of you should be lost to despair! How can you even move!?”

The hero lifted his hand and there was a small zap before Lanie started twitching and the feeling of despair vanished completely. “Alchemist, we’re going to need to keep this one sedated.”

“Right.” The other hero touched Lanie gently. “That should keep her out for the next few hours.” She turned to Fred. “Thank you for your assistance. Without your help, this would have been a mess.”

“I just snapped out of it first.” Fred shrugged. “I was just lucky.”

“Fred, you didn’t just snap out of it first, you drove it back.” Velma corrected. “That’s why I wanted to get everyone near you, you were canceling out the effect.”

“How? I mean I don’t have powers, they ran a bunch of tests to make sure I didn’t have powers. How could I cancel out the effect?”

“We do need a better way to test for Psychic quirks,” Alchemist commented while the police officer worked on getting Lanie out of the bale. “If that’s two missed right here.”

“Two? But I-”

“Fred, you do have a power, it’s just the opposite of that witch’s.” Daphne explained. “I could feel it battling hers, driving away the darkness it was putting in my mind. The closer I got to you, the stronger I felt.”

“Like, no wonder we missed it.” Shaggy laughed. “Feeling better when you’re around just sounds like a side effect of being around you.”

“I...have a power?” Fred couldn’t keep the raw hope out of his voice.

“You do indeed.” Taser clapped his hand on his shoulder. “I think it’s obvious that, unlike Mayfair, you took the tests in good faith. But I think you need to get your registration straightened out as soon as possible.”

“Oh, yes. Yes, Sir!”

~

“I can’t believe this is real.” Fred stared down at the card in his hands. It was identical to the one he’d been carrying around for months, only instead of the word ‘None’ next to Power: it said ‘Morale Boost’.

It wasn’t a flashy or powerful quirk. Certainly not something a hero in a comic book would have. But it was his quirk. Something he had that could help his friends. And he wouldn’t trade it for any other power in the world.

[kairi-chan]

Know Your Name - BoruSara

Genre: Romance / Humor

Rating: T

Sound Track: I Don’t Even Know Your Name by Shawn Mendes

A/N: Pop Star / Reporter AU for BoruSara, written for BoruSaraWeek19 D4 - Music 

---

The crowd outside of The Leaf Hotel was getting thicker by the second, the low murmuring started to turn into an uproar when a fan found that the much-anticipated star was approaching.

“They pulled up for take-out!” She screamed, holding up her phone. “He’s having an Extra Spicy Thunder Burger!”

“Oh my god!” Another fan screamed. “That’s just right around the corner!”

High pitched screaming filled the street, photographers prepared their cameras, and the security took their positions by the pathway.

Sarada took a deep breath and sighed. The frown on her face was starting to look permanent. Her disdain for this crowd, Star and the whole situation just grew more and more by the second. The screaming was starting to give her a headache. Sarada massaged her temples.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” Inojin grinned. “You get to see this pop star up close, get a pass,” he lifted his ID, and then wiggled his eyebrows at her, “And The Leaf Hotel serves the best food. I’m seriously just here for the food.”

She took a deep breath and gave him a look. “I’m not a feature writer!” She whined. “I’m supposed to be covering topics that will get me closer to that front page spread!” She threw her hands up in the air, and for a moment, Inojin felt concerned for the recorder in her hand. “Covering things like the crashing economy, dirty politics and—“

“—all the boring stuff,” Inojin snickered. “I know you’re smart and all, Sarada. But this could be front spread worthy, too.” He lifted his camera and nudged his head towards the crowd behind them. “Boruto Uzumaki is half French, half Japanese, and where did he make it big? America. Of all places.”

She rolled her eyes. The singer had blond hair and blue eyes. His style was so mainstream he could fit anywhere they sold overpriced coffee, avocado toasts, and morning cocktails. He sang about love, living young, wild and free. It was so typical pop. Sarada loathed the idea of having to listen to his songs, read articles about him, and follow his account a month before to prepare for this interview.

She loathed the idea until she actually started listening to his songs and liked them. Not like she would ever admit that out loud. Her editor would never live it down. His Instagram was also… fun to follow. He always posted silly stories, and his feed photos were always on point. He knew when to look goofy, natural, and hot.

“Oh come on, don’t pretend you’re not in the slightest bit interested.”

“I am not.” Sarada pushed her glasses back up her face and straightened her blazer and pencil skirt. “Let’s just take his photo while he enters and we do this interview, eat and we’re out of here.”

Inojin shrugged. “As long as we eat, I’m good. I’m gonna send Chubs photos to make her jealous.”

Sarada rolled her eyes and then laughed. “Okay, okay.”

The crowd started to scream and some of them pushed against the reporters at the back. The two of them were thankful that working for The Konoha Times gave them media passes and special treatment.

A shiny black limo pulled up, and the crowd went wild. Security had to push them back, and all the photographers started clicking away, filling the path with bright flashing lights. Inojin pushed a little forward to take a better photo, but Sarada hung back. She didn’t even bother to record any of the audio of things he might say as he greeted his fans.

Two bodyguards and a man with brown hair and a blue scarf came out first—his manager, Konohamaru—and then, the star of the night, Boruto Uzumaki, climbed out of the car. The crowd was hysterical. Sarada couldn’t help but roll her eyes for the nth time that night. She liked his music, and yeah, he was attractive, but she would be caught dead losing her cool like that.

Boruto looked a little different up close. He looked taller and leaner. His vibe was easy, and his grin looked even brighter if that was possible. He waved at the crowd and said a few words. Sarada couldn’t help but snicker when he switched from French to Japanese and then ended in English. His manager whispered something to him, and then he continued in English, with a tiny accent she couldn’t put her finger on.

It reminded her why her editor chose her for this assignment, because she could speak all of the languages he could, and was notorious for switching languages mid-sentence. It was a quirk that people initially thought was a PR stunt to make him look cute, but the more interviews he entertained, the more believable it seemed. He blew a kiss to the crowd and Sarada could have sworn someone behind her fainted.

She looked at the floor and sighed as she adjusted her glasses. When she looked back up, she and Boruto made eye contact for a split second but she could have sworn he was looking at her far longer than that. He wasn’t smiling anymore, instead, his lips were slightly parted, big blue eyes wide. Her face remained passive and then she tore her attention away from him to Inojin, who was telling her that they had to move to get into the Hotel.

Boruto was being pulled by his manager into the hotel as well. A bunch of other reporters scurried after Boruto and his team. Although Sarada and Inojin tried to make haste, the golden doors were slammed shut in their faces.

.

.

.

“I’m telling you,” Sarada held up her PRESS ID and gritted her teeth, “the two of us are part of the reporters cleared for an interview with Boruto and his team!”

The big security guard crossed his arms across his chest tightly, flexing his muscles. “And I’m telling you, you’re not on the list.”

“That’s impossible!” Inojin retorted. “We’re from The Konoha Times. We’re always on the list of press.”

“Tough luck, buddy. Not this time.”

Inojin continued to argue with the guard, and Sarada was on the phone, desperately trying to reach her editor, but to no avail. It was already past nine in the evening, and the group interview was over half an hour ago. They were all just probably having dinner already. This was horrible. They wouldn’t be granted passes if they weren’t cleared for an interview. The other rival publishers were there, and this article was needed by tomorrow morning.

Sarada needed to find a way to get in. She took a few steps away from the door to clear her head. Inojin’s screaming was starting to remind her of her Mama and Auntie Ino’s arguments. A few more steps and she stopped, as the soft scent of cigarette smoke floated to her nostrils. There was only one person she knew who would rather take a smoke than indulge in pleasantries over dinner. She ran to the corner and spotted him.

“Shikadai!” She grinned, so genuinely happy to see him.

He pulled the stick out of his mouth and blew the smoke away from her direction. He smiled lazily and nodded his head. “Ah, Sarada. I was starting to wonder when the Times would appear. But I was expecting Chocho.”

Sarada laughed. “Yeah, But she’s on leave so you’re stuck with me.”

He nodded his head and lowered his cigarette. “Right. And what’re you, miss Journalist, doing at this alleyway and not inside? Too flashy for you?”

“Ha-ha.” Sarada placed her hands on her hips. “It’s a long story but I need a favor.”

“Ooh,” Shikadai smirked. “Those are expensive.”

“I’ll give you a tip for the next dirty politician I expose,” she bargained.

“That’s pretty solid.” He laughed. “I was just gonna ask for a leak, but okay, sure. Let’s hear it.” He took a long drag and waited.

“I need you to get me and Inojin in there, as well as an interview.”

Shikadai choked and coughed the smoke out. “Excuse me, what? Why do you expect so much from me?”

“Someone forgot to include us in the list. I need an interview with Boruto before the night ends.” She placed her hands together and pleaded. “Please!”

He took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “I can get you in, but I don’t think I can get you a private interview. I didn’t even get to ask a question.”

Her dark eyes went wide. She never backed down from a challenge. She had gotten interviews from senators, economists, even criminals. Surely getting one with a pop star wasn’t going to be so difficult.

He raised his hands up in surrender, “listen, I’m telling the truth. I can get you in the hotel, but I don’t even know if you can get close to him, let alone his room number. Security is tight.”

She pressed her lips together. “Try me.”

.

.

.

Boruto was showed to his room, one of the best suites in the house. His manager had the room on the floor below, and so did the rest of the team. He didn’t mind sharing, but Konohamaru always insisted he got his own so he could rest up properly. The last time he shared a room with his team, chaos ensued and they didn’t sleep until the sun came up, causing Boruto to look exhausted as hell the following day. Luckily it was a small event.

He looked around and took it all in. “Just another empty hotel room,” he whispered and walked over to the king-sized bed. He let himself fall on the mattress and sink in. Boruto closed his eyes and recalled the questions.

“What’s your next album going to be about?”

“Is it true you’re dating? Is it a boy?”

“Favorite song to play?”

“Who do you want to work with next?”

They were all the same typical questions. Shallow, about his dating life, or his sexuality. He rolled his eyes. When was he going to have a challenge for once? His manager and PR team trained him well, and how to dodge questions. His natural wit and charm had also gotten him out of a pickle on more than one occasion.

“There wasn’t even anyone hot,” he muttered. Some tabloids liked to send attractive looking reporters to try to distract him, but none of them ever worked. They just… weren’t his type. He could have any girl he wanted and has had a few encounters—under wraps, of course. Although not a secret enough for the world to think he was a virgin. Not that there was anything wrong with it. It just didn’t fit his image. He closed his eyes.

And then, a pair of dark eyes flashed across his memory, making him sit up, eyes flying open. “There was one!” He exclaimed to no one. He bit his lower lip, trying to remember. She was in the crowd, outside the hotel. There was a press ID around her neck, but he didn’t quite catch for which publication. She wore a pair of red glasses and she looked so… bored.

Boruto pouted. No one ever looked bored in his presence. She didn’t even bother to record anything…

He closed his eyes again, trying to recall if she was there during the interview and dinner. He couldn’t remember. After a while, he gave up and simply concluded, “Then I guess she wasn’t there…” he muttered. No way he wouldn’t notice her in that crowd. Plus, there weren’t many of them, anyway.

Why wouldn’t she be there, though? He shook his head and stood up. Why was he getting so worked up over a reporter? She wasn’t even there. Not even that pretty. Nope. She had long, black hair and wore a black pencil skirt and blazer, like those stiffs in his legal team. Or the dudes who do his banking for him.

Boruto took a deep breath and walked towards the shower, hoping that thoughts of the stiff reporter would wash away with the water.

.

.

.

It was easy enough for Shikadai to bring Sarada and Inojin in. All he needed to do was convince a waiter to help distract the guard long enough to sneak the two of them in. Shikadai gifted the waiter a coupon for a free issue of the next Rogue issue.

“Aww shit!” Inojin complained. “There’s no more food!”

Shikadai pitied the photographer, but he was getting worried about Sarada. She graduated in Journalism and was currently taking up law school. She part-timed in a local newspaper for a while and eventually got hired by the Konoha Times Magazine for her journalism work about a mayor’s corrupt business. It was dangerous, and she had taken on a number of threats for her work. Never did she looked bothered, or even showed hints of it. She was also a tough cookie herself… perhaps a little too tough. That look in her eyes… he knew that look and it scared him.

“Hey,” Sarada waved her hand in front of his face. “Since you’re spacing out, you better be thinking of a plan how to get me to his hotel room.”

Shikadai groaned. This woman was impossible. Was a tip really worth it? “Sarada, you’re being too troublesome. I got you in  since we’re uni buddies. But getting that hotel room number is just—“

“I’ll ghostwrite for you.”

His dark eyes went wide and Inojin instantly shut up. Was Shikadai hearing this right? “Come again?”

Sarada’s face seriously meant business. “I’ll ghostwrite for you.”

“Duuuude!” Inojin nearly dropped his camera.

“I can’t do that,” Shikadai shook his head and took a step back. Even if the offer was tempting, that was too good to be true. It would help him when things were too busy for him. “That’s—you care about getting your name out there!”

She shrugged. “I can type up a thousand words in the back of a cab on my way to work…” she paused and looked at him, an easy smile on her face. “Are you really going to pass this up?”

“But…” oh shit. It was too tempting. “Your writing style…”

“Is flexible.” Sarada grinned. “Just let me read three of your articles and I’m good. You can always check it before passing it in, you know?”

“Duuuuude!” Inojin was now shaking his shoulders. “Getting Sarada to offer something like that is—“ he threw his hands up in the air. “What are you waiting for? Aren’t you sleeping with one of the girls on Boruto’s band or something?”

Sarada’s eyebrows shot up and a knowing smile grew on her face. “Oh really? That sounds interesting.”

Shikadai screamed internally and glared daggers at Inojin. “You promised!”

“Whoops. It slipped?” Inojin snickered.

“Okay, so…” Sarada held up one finger. “I give you a tip,” she held up another, “I ghost write,” and held up another, “and we don’t speak about this girl in front of Chocho.”

Shikadai felt like a bucket of ice-cold water was dumped on his head. If Chocho were to find out— “DEAL.”

.

.

.

The sound of running water mixed with soft pop tunes echoed inside the bathroom. Boruto leaned his weight on his arm on the wall and bowed his head, letting the warm water from the shower pour down his head. Little streams made a path down his hair, nape, and back. Others made their way down the sides of his face and dropped down to his chin. This particular playlist usually put him in a good and sober mood, yet he couldn’t get her out of his head, feeling drunk on the thought of what her name might be.

She didn’t look American. Definitely Asian. Yet, she was a little taller. Maybe she was mixed, like him?

Boruto turned the knob off and leaned his forehead on the cool, tiled wall. Why was he getting so caught up in this? She was just a reporter. She looked bored in his presence. Big deal. She might have just been tired. Or judging from her stiff-looking outfit, she just felt out of place.

He took a towel and dried himself with it, starting with his face, hair, torso and then legs. Boruto looked around for the bathrobe, but before he could grab it, his doorbell rang.

Boruto lifted a brow. “Who the hell could that be?”

.

.

.

Inojin was lagging behind. His legs were burning and his lungs were crying for more air. He held on to his camera with one hand, and to the handrail on the other. “Tell me… why… did we have to take the… service stairs?”

“Because—“ Shikadai grimaced and took a deep breath to steady himself. “This is the only way the cameras won’t see us until we approach Boruto’s room.”

“Who happens to be on the top floor!” Inojin cried.

“Stop your whining!” Sarada chided him, she also struggled to steady her breath. “Just a few more.”

“Why are you so bent on making this happen?” Shikadai raised his brow. “This isn’t even your article, is it?”

“It wasn’t,” Sarada responded and adjusted her glasses. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to half-ass it. Neither does it give me the license to slack off. I’m not going to get that front page unless I work hard.”

“Or is just fucking lucky.” Inojin rolled his eyes.

Sarada pursed her lips and held her tongue. She had other reasons for wanting to make this interview work. There was a betting pool going around the office who would be stuck in their current work and never make it big. To her surprise, she was in the pool. It hurt and outraged her. Chocho calmed her and explained it was because she always stuck to the same boring topics, and never ventured to try writing for other articles or covering other events.

“She’ll stagnate,” one colleague remarked. “People need to be flexible. Can’t have someone turning down assignments just because they don’t like the job.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t like the job, it’s just that she didn’t feel like she was the right person, with the right knowledge, to fulfill the job. What did she know about food blogging or makeup? Traveling and what to pack or look out for? She was studying law with a passion for economics. Her father was a big shot on Wall Street, her mother a successful surgeon. They each had their own passions and expertise, never bothering each other or even pretending to know better than the other in their field. But… Sarada’s colleagues did have a point. She needed to expand and show them that she can get out of her comfort zone and still excel.

“I’m going to make this interview the most talked about, hashtagged, trending shit in the world,” she swore to herself.

.

.

.

Boruto opened the door and what he saw astounded him, eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

The reporter he was just thinking of, now in a wrinkled blazer, sweat on her dark brow, and breathing heavily stood before him. She was holding up her ID for him to see and a smirk slowly grew on his face.

Boruto said her name, letting every syllable roll off his tongue, “Sarada Uchiha.”

She immediately closed her mouth and fought even harder to steady her breathing. Her dark eyes were wide upon hearing his voice. She cleared her throat. “Yes, that’s me.”

Serendipity was wonderful. He didn’t believe in destiny, but he knew this had to be it. Boruto just wanted to laugh but held it in by biting his lower lip.

“Would you please let me interview you?”

“Is that what you’re here for?” He couldn’t believe it. The girl he was thinking about was standing right at his door, and she wanted to interview him?

Sarada nodded. “Yes. May I come in? This won’t take long.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” He stepped aside and she let herself in. He looked at her small figure standing inside his suite, still disbelieving the entire thing.

“Mr. Uzumaki, where would you—“

Boruto cringed. “You can call me Boruto.”

Sarada turned around to face him, eyes trailed down to his waist, before hastily looking away and pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. “Umm. Right, then. You can call me Sarada.”

Boruto looked at himself and realized he was still in a towel. He was about to spazz and go on a full apology for being in a towel, but that pink dust on her cheeks… is she… blushing?

All his embarrassment washed away and his smug smile was back. “Alright, Sarada.” God. He loved her name. The way it sounded, the way it rolled off his tongue. “It’s nice to know your name.”

He relished watching her cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink. This was surely going to be an interview he wouldn’t forget.

“Shall we?”

Sarada nodded.

With one flick of his hand, he closed the door behind him.

.

.

.

To be continued.

--- 

A/N: This was a WIP sitting in my drive for months. I decided it would be perfect to use for the prompt -- Music. I’ll be continuing it another chapter to wrap up! Soon, when I get more free time to write. ^^; 

Thank you for reading my fic, darling. If you like my stories, please check out my profile and check out the link to my masterpost. I also have links to my FFnet, Ao3, Twitter and Ko-Fi.

 Write on, darling.

[notfunnydean]

The Armstrongs

Week two of Supernatural Hiatus Creations - hunting pseudonyms and disguises - #spnhiatuscreations - Warning: Destiel

"So what, there is a ghost who only kills couples?" Dean asks and he almost sounds bored. They are in just another motel room and Sam sits at the table with his laptop and a few newspapers. Dean is lying on his bed and seems to search for more quarters in his pockets. Sam rolls his eyes at that, but decides to say nothing.

"Seems like it. I mean 6 couples in the last two weeks gone missing? Sounds like a job." Sam says and he carefully puts one of the newspapers away. Dean grunts.

"Fine. So we'll interview the neighbors or what?" Dean asks and Sam frowns.

"Not sure that would actually help. I mean the couples vanished at their dates. Sometimes at the cinema or a restaurant. I can't really see a pattern here." Sam says and he closes the laptop. His head is hurting already.

"Well we have to do something right? I already made us new badges." Dean says then and he gets up. His bag is still at the door and Dean goes over to it, before he starts searching in it. Sam tries very hard not to frown at all the dirty clothes, Dean gets out of that bag. Laundry day would be a good idea.

"FBI?" Sam asks and Dean nods.

"Yeah here look." Dean answers, when he finally finds the new badges. He throws one at Sam and then smiles widely. Sam groans already, because for sure, Dean picked another stupid name of a band member.

"Billie Joe Dirnt. Really?" Sam says and he shoots his brother a glare.

"Cool, right! And my name is…" Dean starts and Sam holds a hand up.

"Oh wait. Let me guess. Mike Armstrong?" Sam asks and Dean's grin vanishes. He actually seems a bit surprised, but Sam isn't stupid. He knows Green Day. He is a bit more surprised his brother knows a band that's still alive. He doesn't say that though. Or he would've to listen to Dean's band-talk all over again.

"How do you know?" Dean asks and he shows off his ID. Sam wants to snort at that. Dean's picture is a bit old and he really looks cute in that. Dean frowns even harder.

"Dude. You just switched their first names." Sam says and Dean nods. He actually pouts and throws his ID on the bed. Sam doesn't comment on it and looks back at the newspaper.

"It's genius." Dean mutters and he crosses his arms. Sam doesn't understand it, but Dean loves to pick out new names for them. He could come up with so many names from bands he liked. Normally they would still name each other Dean and Sam, but Dean thought they should try something new. And since he has the song '21 guns' stuck in his head for days, he couldn't help it.

"Anyway. I don't think it's a good idea to just go as the FBI again. Maybe we should…change our routine. Play the victim and then kill the ghost. Sounds easier." Sam explains and his brothers eyes widen almost comedically.

"You did understand that the ghost only searches for couples right? Not brothers." Dean says slowly, because in no way would he pretend to date his own brother. Yikes. Dean knows most people think they are a couple, but that wouldn't work on a ghost.

"Yeah. I wasn't thinking about you and me. I mean I really don't wanna date you." Sam says and he shudders at the thought. Dean frowns only harder at that.

"But then how? I can't just pick a girl up and ask her to play a happy couple with me for a ghost." Dean says and while he imagines that would actually be a bit funny, he is also sure he would get a glass of water in his face for a question like that. Dean shrugs at himself. He had worse.

"No." Sam answers easily and then he focuses back on his things. Dean opens his mouth, to ask what the hell Sam meant, when he hears it. Wings.

"Hello Dean." Castiel says and Dean wants to roll his eyes, but instead he nearly smiles at Castiel and coughs. Why is Castiel always so damn good looking and then smiling at him.

"But I asked Castiel to help us." Sam says happily and Dean gasps at his brother. Betrayal! But then…Sam doesn't know about Dean's crush on Castiel, right? Right?!

"Yeah how?" Dean huffs angrily and he tries his hardest not to stare at the angel again. But Castiel ignores him anyway and goes over to Sam. He looks at a few newspapers and then nods.

"You are right Sam, we should definitely look into this." Castiel says and then he looks back to Dean. Who hastily looks at his hands. He really hopes Sam is not doing, what he thinks he is doing.

"I thought so, too. So I was thinking about a little trap. How about two of us play a happy couple and the ghost comes to us?" Sam asks and Dean wants to strangle his brother. Why is he doing that?

"It could work." Castiel only says but then he looks at Dean. Dean can't help it, he just stares back until his brother coughs loudly and shows Castiel something on his laptop. Castiel and Sam talk about a few victims and then it's actually time to get started. Dean is still angry and he hopes he can get out of this situation.

"Okay so I'll see what I can find in the library and you two just..you know go on a date." Sam smirks at Dean and then packs his things.

"What, why should Cas and I play the couple?" Dean asks angrily, but Sam is still smiling so smugly at him. Dean would actually punch his brother, but he bets Castiel wouldn't be so happy about it.

"Do you not want to be my date?" Castiel asks then and he sounds actually a bit sad as he says it. Dean stops in his movement and looks back to the angel. Castiel's blue eyes look at the ground and Dean feels his heart stop.

"W-what?" Dean stutters, because apparently his brain already left this conversation without him.

"I thought it could be fun." Castiel says and he shrugs, as if it where nothing. Before Dean can respond to that, Sam is already out of the door. Damn Bastard. Dean looks to the Angel and hopes he doesn't blush too bad.

"You really think we can fool a ghost?" Dean asks instead and then goes over to his bag again. He would've need to change, if he and Castiel should seem like a couple. No guy would go out with a hot man like Castiel in Sweatpants and a dirty white shirt, right? It's not as if Dean wanted to look good for Cas.

Yeah right.

"Maybe." Castiel only answers and then he just waits for Dean to get ready. Dean sighs inwardly. This would be a very long evening and he hates how his hands shake, when he pulls his dark jeans on.

"Ready?" Dean asks and he checks his hair in the mirror. He looks okay. Maybe a bit sweaty and flushed. But not too bad. Castiel smiles at at him.

"Ready."


*

"I don't think this works." Dean says two hours later, after they spend the night in a tiny restaurant. The food was good and Dean is finally a bit relaxed. But it doesn't really seem like a date to him. Just another evening with his best friend. No wonder the ghost didn't show up.

"Seems like it." Castiel answers and he puts his empty plate away. It's rare that Castiel eats, but sometimes he can't say no to a burger. Maybe because of the good old days.

Dean just wants to ask Castiel, if they want to leave and try another way tomorrow, when Castiel leans over the table and smiley sweetly at Dean. For a second Dean is so confused, he actually looks behind him, to see what Castiel is smiling at. But there is nobody. Castiel even puts his hand over Dean's.

"W-what are you doing?" Dean asks and he wants to bite his tongue off.

"Flirting." Castiel answers easily and he actually smirks at Dean. Oh god. Dean wants to swoon right here, but he manages to smile a bit back at Castiel. He is flushing again for sure.

"Oh yeah. Uhm good. I mean yeah - alright." Dean stutters and he blushes only harder. But Castiel doesn't seem to mind or he ignores it, because he is still smiling. It's such a soft smile, that Dean's heart beats a bit faster. What would he give for Castiel to always look at him like that.

"You look very beautiful tonight." Castiel says then and Dean ducks his head. Oh lord. What is Castiel doing to him? Normally Dean is the smooth one, who makes his dates blush..but with Castiel…

"T-thank you." Dean whispers and Castiel carefully strokes over Dean's hand with his thumb.

"How about some dessert?" Castiel asks then and he waves at their waitress. Dean doesn't even answer and he certainly doesn't look at the waitress, even so he saw earlier how hot she was. But he can only look at Castiel.

"If we could please have a slice of your best pie and two forks." Castiel asks sweetly and Dean might really swoon.

"Cas." Dean whispers and Castiel even winks at him, when the waitress leaves. Dean wishes this would be a real date. He can imagine how beautiful it would be with Castiel. They could always have days like this. Dean shakes his head a bit. He should focus on their mission.

"Here, Mr. Armstrong." The Waitress says, when she brings some apple pie for them. Dean raises his eyebrows at the name. He hadn't known Castiel took the same last name, as he had, when he made the reservation.

"Thank you." Castiel says politely and then grabs a fork. Dean can't even focus on the pie. Only when Castiel holds his fork up and smiles. It takes Dean longer than he wants to admit to understand, that Castiel wants to feed him. Dean lets Castiel do it and when he moans around his mouthful of pie, Castiel actually manages to look a bit aroused.

Dean chokes on his pie.

It takes them long to eat the pie. They smile a lot at each other and feed the other one the pie and Dean is so happy he could burst. But still there is no ghost. Dean even looks at his phone, but Sam didn't call them.

"I think we should head back to the motel." Castiel says after the pie is gone. Dean can only nod. Of course this would end, Dean thinks bitterly, when Castiel gets up to pay their waitress. They were here for more than three hours, so Dean can call himself lucky actually.

"Ready?" Dean asks, when he gets his jacket and Castiel's trench coat. He helps Castiel into it and a few seconds later they stand outside of the restaurant. It's a bit chilly and Dean shudders.

"Are you cold?" Castiel asks and he frowns. Of course angels don't feel the cold.

"Nah,'s okay." Dean tries, but Castiel just shakes his head and takes the trench coat off again. Dean doesn't know what to say, when Castiel puts the coat around Dean's shoulders and smiles. Dean wants to give it back, tell Castiel he doesn't need it, because they aren't dating anymore but…

But the trench coat is warm and smells like Cas and he cuddles into it. Damnit.

"It was fun." Castiel says, when they start walking and Dean feels himself nodding. It was fun. He actually laughed at lot and even though he was blushing a lot, he was also relaxed around Castiel.

"Yeah I really liked it." Dean whispers into the cold night and he gasps quietly, when Castiel takes his hand again.

Oh. Maybe Castiel still wants to get the ghost to them. Dean shrugs inwardly and enjoys the feeling from Castiel's hand in his. That feels so right. Sadly they only walk for ten minutes, before they are finally at the motel. Sam is back as it seems, because Baby already stands in the parking lot.

"So…I'll see you tomorrow? Maybe we can find the ghost then." Dean starts, because for sure Castiel would leave now. Angel business and stuff. Castiel nods and he is still holding Dean's hand firmly.

"Sure." Castiel says and then he comes a step closer. Dean is standing under the lamp at his motel door. His back pressed against the dark wood of the door, because Castiel is so close.

"C-cas?" Dean actually squeaks.

"I believe this is how a wonderful date should end." Castiel whispers and then he looks down to Dean's lips. Dean stops breathing and before he can stop himself, he nods. Castiel smiles again and he takes the last step closer. Dean closes his eyes, just as Castiel's lips brush his own.

It's an innocent kiss, but Dean's knees buckle anyway. Castiel is so carefully with him and Dean sighs happily.

"Good night Dean." Castiel whispers and then he is gone. Dean stares into the dark night. Still cuddled in the trench coat.

*

"How was your date?" Sam asks the next morning and Dean shrugs. He hadn't slept all night, because he couldn't stop thinking about the kiss. How could he tell Castiel, that he wants to do it again. And again. And never stop.

"Alright." Dean says and Sam nods.

"Well doesn't seem like you got the ghost." Sam presses more firmly and Dean groans.

"How would you know?" Dean mutters and Sam grins only a bit more.

"I know, because I had a nice little salt and burn yesterday." Sam explains and Dean almost spits his breakfast out. Almost. Because food.

"How did you find the ghost?" Dean asks and he is actually sad. He had hoped they would try the dating thing again today. Sam just shrugs, but he is still grinning.

"All couples that died actually lived in the same area around a lake." Sam answers and Dean has to think about this for a moment. Sam didn't mention that yesterday, right? What the hell.

"But then why…would you send me and Cas on a date?" Dean asks and Sam actually starts laughing. Dean is still a bit confused. Was this all a cruel joke to them or what? Playing with Dean's feelings.

"Dean…"

Dean turns around, when he hears Castiel's voice. The angel looks sad and Dean stands up.

"Cas?" He asks and Castiel looks away.

"I know it was wrong and I apologize, Dean. Sam told me about this ghost and while we actually knew where the ghost would be…well Sam had the idea, but I liked the idea to have just one night with you." Castiel explains and Dean should be angry. Betrayed and angry. But he actually smiles and goes over to his angel.

"You mean it?" Dean whispers and Castiel is a bit stunned. He nods.

And Dean? Dean kisses him. Right there in front of Sammy. He doesn't care. He just needs to be this close to his angel again. Castiel is a bit confused at first, but then he starts kissing back and yes. That's it. Dean sighs.

"Guys." Sam says then and he coughs. Dean shows him his middle finger and doesn’t even stop kissing Castiel.

"You like me back?" Castiel whispers, when he breaks the kiss and Dean nods. Sam claps his hands and Dean considers to throw something at him, but then again maybe he should thank Sam.

Dean looks at the table and sees his fake ID there. "Mike Armstrong" and then he sees next to it a fake ID Castiel apparently had with him. Seems like Sam made it for him. "Frank Armstrong." Dean snorts, when he sees it and then he goes over to them and picks both ID's up.

"Dean?" Castiel asks and Dean winks at him.

"Nice touch. But I think I like Castiel Winchester more." Dean says and throws both ID's into the garbage can.

While Sam gags loudly, Castiel kisses him again. And Dean? Dean thinks sometimes the real life is better than any hunting pseudonyms and disguises could ever be.

[jayankles]

Knight in Checkered Flannel (AU)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2503

Summary: Whilst out on a shopping trip, you bump into someone unexpected, someone you didn’t leave on good terms with.

A/N – This is my entry for @luci-in-trenchcoats  Michelle’s AU & Things Challenge using the prompt: Childhood Friends AU. This was also based on a dream that I had a while back so yeah. I may be sorry depending on how you feel.

Pushing along the shopping cart, your eyes skimmed the list of things you needed to buy. Walking up and down the aisles, you tossed in the items that were on there, the stuff that you and your roommate deemed a necessity.

Your phone vibrated in your back pocket. Singlehandedly, you pulled it out and answered the phone.

‘Sup Deels.’ You answered cheerfully as you checked the caller ID.

On the other end of the phone, Delia returned your greeting with her own, 'how long are you gonna be? I need food woman!’

'Delia! I’ve been gone for thirty five minutes. You could always, oh I don’t know, do your own shopping.’

Rolling your eyes, you stuffed the phone between your ear and your shoulder as she argued.

'Hey! I’m very busy if you must know.’

'No. No you are not busy. Getting ready for a sex date with your boyfriend is not busy. That’s just being crazy.’

You laughed as you walked along the next aisle, grabbing the bread and cautiously putting it in the cart.

Looking down at the list, you saw that milk was next on there.

'Y/N, it is not crazy and you know it. It’s just that I need to look hot so Randy can rip it off me.’

Ridiculous. You shouldn’t need to look god if it’s going to come off as soon as walks through the door. She tells you too much.

'You’re wearing your red lacey underwear set again aren’t you?’

With another roll of your eyes, an image of Delia standing in front of her full length mirror - in just her lingerie - clothes, both clean and dirty, scattered across the floor as she looked for the perfect outfit.

'Shut up.’ You caught her when you heard her stutter.

Walking around the corner, you saw a familiar face. It had been at least 15 years.

Dean Winchester.

A kid that was five years older than you. A kid that had turned into a friend ever since your birth. A childhood friend that you used to depend on. A childhood friend that you cared for. A childhood friend that you had come to love even before you knew what love was.

'Y/N? You’ve gone quiet, I expected a grilling. What’s happening?’

You heard the panic in her voice but completely disregarded the urgency for the moment. A panic of your own taking over.

You didn’t know how you felt. On one hand you were happy to see him after all these years but you hated him. The reason he had left leaving a hole in your heart.

He destroyed you and he didn’t even know not did he care.

Grabbing the fabric of your jacket, you pulled the hood over your head and turned away so he wouldn’t see you.

'Delia? Remember when I told you about that guy when I was young. All those years ago. He’s here! Dean’s here!’

Dean. Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester was one of the first people to hold you, other than your mother and father of course. Dean’s mother, Mary, had befriended your mom when they became neighbors a few years before you were born.

Mary was there through your mother’s birth just like your mom was there at the hospital with Mary when little Sammy was born a year before you.

When your mother was over for tea in the Winchester household, whilst she was pregnant, almost five year old Dean would get excited, sometimes squealing when he placed his hand on your mother’s growing, swollen belly and got a kick against it.

When you were born, Dean was deemed your protector, he felt a pull to you as soon as you were born. He’d been the one to make you smile, even when your parents couldn’t, it may have made your father a little jealous but five year old Dean didn’t know what it meant at the time. All he knew was that he wanted to keep that smile on your face because it made him feel good it made him want to be the reason why you were happy and giggling.

Dean had become your best friend, easily. Your parents had speculated that the two of you would become more than friends, they were so excited when you had both asked about each other when you had reached your home, just as you had come back from the others house. The perks of being next door neighbours, as all four of your parents would say.

Whilst John was working as a mechanic at the garage, Mary had been a stay at home mom with her two kids, getting Sam and Dean, and sometimes you when your mom was busy with work, to school.

‘Dean?’ you asked the nine year old, when you were four.

‘Yeah, Y/N/N?’

Dean had been sitting up your table, doing his homework with your mothers help and yours when you wanted to be helpful, not that you were much help though.

Biting at a hangnail, swinging your legs, you nervously asked him. ‘Are we going to be friends forever?’

You pouted, playing with a loose thread on your jeans – even though your mother had told you many times not to.

Dean had put his pen down, stopping his homework, your mom secretly listening in when she heard your quiet little voice, putting a stop to scrubbing the dishes. ‘Of course we are. I’ve got you and Sammy and our parents, I’m all good. Why would you say something like that? You know you can’t get rid of me that easily.’

‘Because Beth said that you’re going to leave me because I’m not a big girl like you’re a big boy.’ With a quivering lip, tears filled your eyes as you uttered your next words, ‘I’m not like big girl like Cassie. Beth said you’re going to go to Cassie and leave me behind. She says you look at her differently to when you look at me. She’s prettier and I’m not.’

Your mother’s heart had filled with dread, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she placed a had over her heart, her baby had been told that her older best friend was going to leave her.

No one could predict the future, the two of you could go your separate ways, but the fact that you were told and thinking about it made her heart break for you.

Dean forgot about completing his homework for now to comfort you, he immediately jumped off his stool and pulled your crying, shaking form into a hug.

‘Y/N/N, it’s okay. I’ll always be here. I live next door, we see each other every day and like I said I’m not going anywhere. Cassie is a friend but you’re my best friend.’

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, your face buried in his neck as your body wracked with sobs. Dean calmed you as best as he could by rubbing a hand up and down your tiny back. Your mother had listened to every word that Dean had used to calm you, she vowed that she would talk to your father and let the both of them talk to you about Beth and what she had said.

That moment had brought the two of you together, even closer – if that were possible. Dean hung out with Cassie but he still made time for you, you loved that about him, he would be your guardian, your protector and he would look out for you when you needed him the most.

One night, five years later, Dean and your mom had picked you up and took you home, when you got there Dean house was on fire, surrounded by fire trucks and police cars. Dean’s father was being taken away, hands cuffed behind his back and the police officer reading John his rights.

The only thing that was going through Dean’s mind, other than why his father was being arrested, was where was his mother. He screamed at the top of his lungs, trying to get out of your mother’s iron grip on him.

‘Mom! Dad! Where are they taking him? Where’s my mom? Where is she?!’ Dean had wriggled and almost hit your mom in the ribs as he tried to get answers as to what was happening to his parents. ‘Let me go!’

Your mom had tried to calmly protest. ‘Dean, sweetie, you shouldn’t.’

‘I don’t care! I want my mom!’ Dean didn’t care that you had tried to comfort him.

He didn’t care that he had pushed your nine year old frame to the floor and pulled Cassie into him, leaving you a crying mess on the floor.

Dean’s father had been charged with the murder of his mother. Death by house fire, plastered on every newspaper. Before your mother and father volunteered to take him in, Cassie’s parents had took him into their arms and took him away. You were devastated. You had lost your best friend to Cassie, just like Beth had predicted all those years ago.

You were brought back to the here and now with a hand on your shoulder.

Tears were streaming down your face as you recalled the events you had lost not only your ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’ that you loved and adored like family but your best friend that had been there since your birth, gone after a house fire and going to live with the love of his live at fourteen, Cassie.

‘Excuse me, I know it’s none of my business but are you okay?’ Shit.

It was Dean, but damn he sounded good and it hurt that he had grown up without you and you without him.

‘Deels, I gotta go.’ You didn’t give her time to answer or stop you before you had ended the call and stuffed your phone back into your pocket.

Sniffling, you dried your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie, although your red puffy eyes were a dead give away.

‘It’s… yeah, I’m fine. Just a little,’ you shook your head. ‘Nevermind.’

Dean had left his post at the yogurt pots, where you had spotted him first. His shopping basket was nearly filled to the brim with a few goodies like chili lime jerky and the ingredients for burgers.

‘You could use a shopping buddy.’  He declared, of course he didn’t see the inner turmoil you were going through as you tried not to sputter your tears everywhere. He wouldn’t appreciate that.

You told him that it was a kind offer but he didn’t have to comfort you when you were just overreacting. ‘You do have to be nice to me when I’m balling my eyes out. You barely even know me anymore.’ You mumbled the last sentence, not wanting him to know who you are.

‘That’s the time when you need a buddy most, sweetheart. Besides,’ He lifted his basket and waved his own list in the air. ‘I’ve still got a lot on my list and I think I need some help.’

‘That’s a great pick up line, you know that. How often does it work?’ Your eyebrow raised at him and it seemed that he was still able to lift your spirits even after all these years, even if he didn’t know that it was you.

‘Well, if you accept then this would be the first time. I don’t usually see pretty girls crying in the middle of the supermarket. I just want to be your knight in checkered flannel, is all but you can call me Dean.’ He pointed out, making you look down at your shoes.

‘Wow, at least buy me dinner first.’ You choked out a single laugh.

‘I got most of the ingredients, it wouldn’t be a surprise but it’ll do. If you were to say yes to my invitation that is...’ He drawled, and indication that he was waiting for you to tell him your name.

At this, you bit your lip. Should you tell him? He’d know that it was you but he would be pissed and hurt, just as much as you were that night.

You couldn’t let anyone feel that pain, not like you did.

‘Y/N, my name is Y/N, but wouldn’t your girlfriend be angry that you’re inviting another woman to your humble abode.’

Dean gave a laugh, ‘no, she wouldn’t because I don’t have one, unless you’re willing to change that.’ He winked. ‘But I used to have a friend called Y/N, back in the day, used to call her Y/N/N.’

‘Y/N/N’ You both answered at the same time. His voice cheery as he reminisced your times together but yours quite the contrast and you said it with a mellow, quiet tone.

Pivoting on the heel of your foot, you grabbed the milk within the same aisle and tried to move on to the next thing on your list but Dean had grabbed your elbow.

‘How did you know that? You’re- you- what?’ Dean’s hands had hesitantly reached out, scared that you would flinch away from him but when you didn’t, he cupped your face in his larger hands, tracing his thumbs over the apple of your cheeks. ‘You’re my Y/N, aren’t you?’

You nodded, feeling the tears prick at the back of your eyes again. ‘And you’re my Dean.’

Dean was shocked, you could at least tell that much by the way his eyes had bugged out of his head and his jaw has clenched before it slightly dropped. He didn’t know how to behave, fifteen years away from each other would do that to a person. A whole lot could change in one year, let alone fifteen. You and Dean were adults now and not the little kids that the other used to know.

Although, you did love him as much as you did back then but still feel the dagger in your heart and scrapes on your knees.

But as you said, things were different between the both of you. Before you had time to process anything else, Dean had dropped his basket on the floor, enveloping you in his arms, cupping the back of your head to his broader chest. Within the shock, you hadn’t moved, not yet anyway. All the feelings you used to have for him flooding back, you realised it had been too long and you needed him again. As unhealthy as that sounded but it was true.

It had been forever but you wrapped your arms around his back, your nails practically clawing at his shoulder blades, trying to get closer and closer to him.

Dean did everything he could calm you, just how he remembered but he wanted to distract you.

‘I still need a shopping buddy, and a housewarming guest, if you’re still interested, that is,’ he said, pulling back and wiggling his eyebrows at you.

‘House- did you say housewarming?’ This could only mean one thing, right?

He nodded enthusiastically, ‘yep, I did indeed. I just moved back here. I’m coming home, Y/N/N.’

Lemme know what you think… 

 @thorne93 @becaamm @jotink78 @love-kittykat21 @jensen-jarpad @hymnofthevalkyrie @capsheadquaters @kurosaki224-new-blog @supernatural-jackles @cyrilconnelly @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @iwantthedean @goody2shoessmut @ruprecht0420 @mrswhozeewhatsis @feelmyroarrrr @redlipstickandplaid @mogaruke @pureawesomeness001 @mizzezm @jpadjackles @jesspfly @urpeachess  @skybinx-blog @aubzylynn @deansbaekaz2y5  @plaidstiel-wormstache @lilasiannerd @thewayward-winchesters-blog  @valerieshubin @be-amaziing @akshi8278 @purplediamon @graceforme86 @its-my-perky-nipples  @dalikah3 @nervousmemzie  @mrsbatesmotel53 @lavieenlex @percussiongirl2017  @oneshoeshort @whit85-blog @muliermalefici  @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @moonlover19 @emoryhemsworth  @reallyverynodansi @milo-winchester-4ever @captainradicalpassion  @captainemwinchester @ilsawasanacrobat @alicat-life @cojootromuelle @essie1876 @dancingalone21 @dslocum89 @atc74 @superwhomerlockinuum @spnbaby-67  @anitalasirenita  @queencflair @misticty  @weasleywinchester-blog @ria132love @spn-fan-girl-173 @nightlyinsomnious @easelweasel @grace-for-sale @roxyspearing

[katelides]

This is my first ever one shot so please don’t be too harsh on me :D

I might post other one shots here if I can come with prompts. You’re always welcome to give me ideas, I don’t only write Bechloe fanfics but I do enjoy writing them the most so hit me with your best shot!!

One Shot 1

Aubrey and Chloe live together in a small apartment and Beca and Fat Amy rented the apartment next to them. Aubrey and Chloe are post-graduate students, Aubrey with law and Chloe her teaching degree. Beca and Fat Amy are seniors  and co-leading the Bellas. To say that rehearsals were chaotic are an understatement but luckily for the Aubrey and Chloe help them out to keep the Bella’s in check.

Aubrey, Beca and Fat Amy are discussing the evening plans since Chloe was at Tom’s place again. It bothered Beca immensely but she will never show it. She has had a crush on the older Bella ever since she met her at the activities fare and her feelings had grown stronger since the shower ‘accident’. But being a good friend she never mentioned it. She doesn’t want to break Chloe and Tom up since they seem happy together and Beca is too much of a chicken to tell her anyway. Terrified to lose her is she does tell her how she really feels.

“What about the diner across the road? They have something we can all enjoy and we do not have to argue about what. Also it is a very cheap place.” Fat Amy shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know blondie, this sexy body doesn’t accept just any food.” Aubrey rolls her eyes at the crazy Australian. “It’s a good idea though Amy. I want a burger, Aubrey wants a salad and you want any living being with a pulse.” Beca says casually.

Both blondes look at Beca with confused expressions. The noticed that Beca spaced out soon after Chloe left and knew why. They’re both pissed at their best friends for not being honest with each other but they can’t do anything about it. “What? I do pay attention you know.” Fat Amy and Aubrey shake their heads. “We know you do but you zoned out after Chloe left and the expression on your face proved that you were not happy about it.”

“Seriously, can we just not do this right now?” Beca wants to get up from the couch but gets pulled back down by Fat Amy. “No can do shorty, you need to admit ya feels for red at some point.” Beca lets out a growl. “What is there to say? She’s with Tom, she has been ever since I met her. I can’t compete with him… I have nothing to give her.” Beca’s voice grows softer and softer, sadder and sadder.

“We know what kind of guy he is but Chloe will never believe us.” Aubrey looks sympathetically at the alt girl. “He is a cheating dirt bag and no way close to good to Chloe but she is blinded because she doesn’t know better.” Beca raises her eyebrow. “Tom is Chloe’s first real boyfriend, she doesn’t know how it is to be in a good relationship.” Aubrey explains with a frown.

Beca wants to ask Aubrey another question but the slamming of the front door stops her from doing so. A flash of red runs past the three friends straight into Chloe’s bedroom which slams shut with a loud bang. “Chloe?!” The three exclaim at the same time. They jump up and run to the bedroom, Beca first followed closely by Aubrey with Fat Amy trailing behind them. “Chlo, please let us in.” Aubrey tries but now answer except for the muffled sobs coming from behind the door.

Beca rolls her eyes at the blond and turns the doorknob and the door swings open.  Aubrey changes her looks between the door and Beca. “She never locked the door.” Not waiting for an answer Beca walks into the room and sits on the bed next to Chloe. Easily pulling the redhead up and wrapping her arms around her Beca holds her tight.  Aubrey sits on the other side while Fat Amy takes a seat on the end of the bed, each trying to sooth Chloe.

It takes Chloe a solid ten minutes to calm down and to finally tell the three other girls what happened. “I’m an idiot.” Chloe breaths out into Beca’s chest. “No you’re not. You’re amazing, wonderful, fantastic and beautiful.” Beca mentally slaps herself for the last one. Not because she didn’t mean it, on the contrary. Chloe is the most beautiful person she has ever met, inside and out.

“No I’m an idiot. An idiot that didn’t realize that Tom was cheating on me.” Chloe lets out a strangled sob while Beca tenses up which goes unnoticed by Chloe but not by Aubrey and Fat Amy. “How did you find out? I thought you were meeting up?” Aubrey asks trying to sound normal. “I-I wrote him a text that I was coming over, he never answered but I have his spare key.” Chloe takes a shaky breath before continuing. “I walked into his apartment and heard a sound from his bedroom. I didn’t think anything of it and I walked it. He never even realized that I was there. I stood there watching how they fucked, how he was calling her baby and screaming her name. I ran out before they saw me and came here.”

Aubrey was straight out fuming while Amy was cursing in some Australian slang that no one understood. It took them a very long moment to realize that Beca had gotten up cursing the whole seven yards and storming out of the apartment. The three left in the room share a concerned look and quickly follow their tiny friend. They know that nothing will stop Beca from protecting her friends, especially Chloe. They run after their friend who even though is small is really fast when she wants to be, it takes them quite the effort to follow her.

-,-,-,-,-,-

When they reach Tom’s apartment building they see him come out with a weird look on his face. Aubrey and Fat Amy stop dead in their tracks making Chloe slam into them. “Why did you st…” Chloe stops talking when she see Tom. Beca being furious and not really thinking straight walks at the tall guy and before he knows it he receives a fist against his jaw. “That’s for fucking hurting Chloe!” Beca shouts while shaking her hand to relieve the pain going through her fist.

“What the fuck? What’s your problem? What are you talking about?” Tom stands up straight rubbing the spot where Beca hit him. “You’re a fucking low life cheater.” Beca spits back. Tom starts to get really angry and walks up to Beca and towers over her. “How would you know, you have no proof.” Tom smirks down at the really pissed off alt girl. “And why would you care, she will never love you.” That was it, Beca lounges forward and tackles the giant in front of her and hits him in the face again.

Tom having the great advantage of being taller and stronger quickly flips them over and pins Beca’s arms down with one hand and hitting her in her stomach with the other. What he didn’t calculate was Fat Amy and Aubrey throwing themselves at him and knocking him down. They keep him pinned down so he can’t get up and hurt Beca anymore.

“Is that all you got? Do you really think that this will prove that you aren’t a cheater? Chloe is the most caring and wonderful person you can ever meet. You’re lucky that she ever gave you a chance to love her. She deserves someone who really cares, brings her flowers for no reason. Sits through stupid movies just to see her smile and hear her laugh. I love how she can make anyone’s day better with just one smile. I love her.”

Tom jumps up when both Aubrey and Fat Amy loosen their grip hearing Beca’s last words. They knew that their friend had it hard for the redhead but that she was in love? No, they did not see that coming. Chloe who is taken of guard just as much stumbles forward but before she can say or do anything Tom sprints forward and tackles Beca. He gets up and runs away and no one knows why until they take a good look at Beca.

Blood is coming out of her side. Chloe rushes next to her couching down. “Beca? Can you hear me?” Fat Amy follows Chloe’s lead while Aubrey calls for an ambulance. “Ch-Chloe?” Beca’s voice is faint and weak. she’s losing a lot of blood very fast and it’s taking a toll on her tiny body. “Beca please stay awake, I need you.” Chloe tries to hold back her tears but fails. “Please keep fighting… I love you.” Beca’s lips curl up into a small smile before falling into nothingness.

It takes two huge men to pull Chloe of off Beca to get her into the ambulance. The entire time she’s kicking, fighting and screaming. Aubrey holds on to her best friend and watches how they lift Beca into the car and close the doors. “You can come to the hospital separately, we’re doing everything we can to save your friend.” With a sympathetic smile the doctor turns around and jumps into the car and they drive off.

-,-,-,-,-,-

Fat Amy texted the Bellas and Jesse. Jesse and Beca are still best friends. They tried dating but after a month they broke up stating that it was like dating a brother or a sister. He is also the only one beside Chloe who talks to Beca’s dad occasionally. But at this moment Chloe isn’t the most fit person to warn doctor Mitchell about his daughter.

The ride to the hospital is really quiet, no matter that all the Bellas and Jesse were in the little bus. Lilly offered to drive or at least that’s what everyone assumed. Beca is the only one that can actually hear what she says. Having extraordinary hearing has its perks. Everyone is seated with someone except for Chloe, she wanted to be alone and think about what just happened. She has never hated a person as much as she hated Tom at the moment.

The Bellas’ bus stop in the hospital parking lot and Chloe is the first one out followed by Jesse and the rest of the Bellas. Chloe makes her way to the front desk and demands to be let in to see Beca but they won’t tell her where she is because she’s not family. “You don’t understand, I need to see her. I’m her…” Chloe has no idea how to finish that sentence. “They’re all with me, I’m Beca’s dad.” Doctor Mitchell walks to the front desk and shows his ID in confirmation. “She’s still in surgery, we will let you know when the doctor has news.” Chloe glares at the nurse. “Thank you, we will wait in the waiting room.”

The group takes a seat in the waiting area and one by one they start falling asleep. Chloe and doctor Mitchell are the only ones away after three hours and still no news. “She really cares about you.” The deep voice of Ben Mitchell brings Chloe out of her thought bubble. “So do I mister Mitchell.” Chloe lets out a tired sigh. “Uhm mister Mitchell, could I ask you something?” The older man smiles at the usually bubbly student, he can see how much this affected the girl. “Of course, what can I help you with?” Chloe takes a deep breath before turning towards mister Mitchell. “Well uhm, you know that I really care about your daughter and I wanted to ask for your permission to uhm you know uhm…” Chloe is never one to become flustered but this is one of those rare occasions. “You already had my blessing the first time I met you. I can see the way you two look at each other. It’s all up to her now.” Chloe’s eyes light up slightly, knowing that she could finally ask her long time crush/love out on a date gave her a boost.

“Family of Beca Mitchell?” A middle aged nurse walks into the waiting area to see the huge group sleeping on the chairs and floor. Chloe and Ben get up and walk over to her to get the news. “Miss Mitchell is out of surgery and being brought to a room. We only allow two people at the time in the room.”

“Thank you, what room is she in?” Ben asks politely. “Room 3105.” Ben nods his head with a smile. “Chloe, why don’t you head up and I’ll wake up the rest.” Chloe’s eyes widen. “But sir, it’s your daughter you should be the first person to…” Mister Mitchell cuts Chloe off. “I might be her father but I know for a fact that you are the first person she wants to see when she wakes up.” Ben gently pushes Chloe towards the elevator. “Now go up to your girl.”

-,-,-,-,-,-

Chloe stares at the small body wrapped in a blanket in a bed that looks way too big. Beca’s already extremely pale skin looks thin as paper. Too scared to touch her because she might fall apart. The soft beeps from the machines are the only sounds in the room except for Beca’s steady breathing. It takes Chloe a few minutes to actually step into the room and sit down on a chair next to Beca. Gently taking the brunette’s hand in hers Chloe rubs circles in the palm of her hand.

The rest of the Bellas plus Jesse and mister Mitchell look through the window at the two girls. “Mister Mitchell, I’m doctor Franklin. Your daughter is going to recover just fine. She should be waking up in a few hours.” A police officer step up from behind the doctor and speaks up. We need miss Chloe Beale, miss Aubey Posen and miss Amy Robinson to speak to our officers. They need to make up a report so you can file a suit against Tom Smith. We were told they were there when it happened?”

Aubrey and Amy nod. “Yes we were, would it be alright if Amy and I talk first? We would like to give Chloe some time to be with Beca?” Aubrey points through the window and sees Chloe softly talking to Beca. “Of course, I think only your statements should be enough for now.” The officer smiles and leads the two blondes the way to the other officers.

It’s 3 am and Beca still didn’t wake up. Jesse drove the Bellas back to campus except for Chloe, Aubrey and  Fat Amy. Doctor Mitchell fell asleep in a chair in the hallway watching Chloe interact with sleeping Beca. Fat Amy is playing a game on her phone and Aubrey is looking at Beca and Chloe and thinking of ways to make Tom’s life miserable.

Around 4 am Chloe thinks her mind is playing tricks on her because she’s tired but when Beca’s finger twitches again she knows that it isn’t a hallucination. Sitting up straighter Chloe squeezes Beca’s hand gently. “Beca? Can you hear me?” For a while there’s no reaction but suddenly Beca squeezes Chloe’s hand. It’s very faint but it’s there. “Becs can you open your eyes for me?” Aubrey noticed what was going on and woke up doctor Mitchell and caught Amy’s attention. “Please? I need to see your beautiful eyes, can you do that for me?” Again it takes a few moments for anything to happen but Beca’s eyes flutter open but shut tight not being used to the bright light in the room.“That’s great Becs, can you stay awake for me?” Beca mumbles something inaudible and seconds later her eyes fly open again staying open longer this time before closing.

20 minutes later Beca can finally keep her eyes open but hasn’t said anything yet which worried Chloe immensely. Beca’s metallic blue eyes look straight into Chloe baby blue ones and a smile forms on her face. “I-I-I l-l-lo-lov- I love you.” Beca’s eyes close after the immense effort she put into saying those three little words. “I love you too.” Beca’s eyes fly open and shine brighter than they ever did before.

“T-Tom?” Beca’s eyes turn from happy to concerned in a matter of seconds. The tiny brunette winces in pain when she tries to sit up. “They arrested him an hour ago, he’s going away for a very long time.” Aubrey says still standing in the doorway. Beca finally notices Aubrey, Fat Amy and her dad standing there. “You’re safe Beca, no one will hurt you… no one will hurt us ever again.” Chloe whispers into Beca’s ear.

“Chlo, I need to ask you something. It’s been on my mind for ever and if I don’t do it now I’ll never do it… Chloe, will you go on a date with me.” Amy lets out a loud ‘oh no’ which makes everyone look at her in confusion. “Stacie won the bet.” Aubrey rolls her eyes. “I thought you guys stopped that a few months ago?”

Beca nudges Chloe to get her attention. “We’ll deal with that later, now I need an answer Beale. Yes or no?” Chloe pretends to think about it but either way a huge grin spreads on her face.“Yes.” The redhead leans down to finally kiss Beca. Just before their lips can touch Amy interrupts them, again. “Damn, Stacie won again.” Beca lets out a frustrated groan. “For starters you guys are using that money to pay for their first date, second. Amy can please shut up so they can finally kiss.” Aubrey semi shouts at the Australian weirdo next to her.

“No need to tell me twice.” Chloe says before leaning down to kiss Beca.

Let me know what you think, feedback is always fun to have :D

[chloelucia13]

Vigilante (A Teen Wolf and Supernatural Crossover) (Part 2)

Pairing: Isaac x reader, Winchesters x sister!reader

Prompt: When the reader’s old friend calls for help, the Winchesters all rush to Beacon Hills immediately, and you immediately see someone you thought you’d never see again. But what happens when your brothers find out that you are best friends with supernatural beings that you all hunt?

Warnings: fluff, violence, language, a tiny bit of angst, kinda hinting towards smut

A/N: I hope you guys like part 2!

Teen Wolf tag list: @shine-and-rise-sammy​ (Tag list is open)

SPN tag list: @teamfreewill-imagine, @supernatural-jackles, @faith-in-dean, @ellen-reincarnated1967, @for-the-love-of-dean, @shakeswilde, @angelofwinchester17​ (tag list is open)

Series tag list: @writer-w-magic​, @namelesslosers​, @kamilasurujballi14​, @bands-and-shietz​, @blushingunicorn101 (tag list is open)

You towel dried your hair sighed softly, stepping out of the bathroom, now changed in new clothes. “We got you food,” Dean told you, tossing you a brown paper bag. You smiled at him and sat down on one of the two beds, setting the bag on your lap as you tossed the towel you were using at the bathroom door. “So, seems like you and Sammy have something in common.”

“And what’s that?” you inquired, taking a french fry out of the bag and holding it between your thumb and forefinger, your lips set in a straight line.

“Both of you dated werewolves.”

You huffed in annoyance and tossed the fry back in the bag, suddenly not hungry. “Don’t you just have the best conversation segues.”

“Y/N, we need to talk this.”

You pursed your lips in thought before shaking your head. “No, I don’t think we do.” You looked at the bag on your lap and your forehead wrinkled in confusion. “The bag is cold.”

You thought back to the night before, when Isaac came into your room.

“I brought you a burger and some fries. They’re in the fridge.”

You set the bag on the ground before standing up quickly, your hands on your hips. “You went over to Scott’s while I was in the shower!” you announced, your face contorted in shock. “And I never told you that I dated Isaac! I didn’t even say that I did whenever you were close enough to hear! You… you talked to him!”

“How the hell did you get all of that from a cold burger and fries!”

“So I’m right!”

“Yes, but how did you know?”

“He bought that food for me last night. He would’ve been the only person who knew where it was!” You huffed in annoyance and carded a hand through your hair. “Why were you there?”

“I wanted to talk to your friends.”

“About what?”

“About how it’s normal for you now to kill things, and that this is the only way we can kill whatever it is that is here!”

“But they don’t kill!”

“They’re gonna have to! And we’ll have to teach them how to!”

You groaned and sat back down on the bed, burying your face in your hands. “So I’m guessing you found out what it is?”

“Yeah. Hecate.”

“The Goddess of dark magic?”

“That’d be her. And she has an army.”

“Of what?”

“Vampires.”

“Great, so not only do we have to teach them how to kill, we have to teach them how to decapitate things!”

“All part of the job, Y/N/N.” You nodded and drummed your fingers on the bed. “We got you a room so you don’t have to sleep on the couch.”

“Thanks guys.” You stood up and Sam, who had been sitting quietly watching you two the whole time, handed you the key. “See you in the morning.” You grabbed your bag off the floor and left their room, walking to your room located across from theirs. You unlocked the door and pushed it open, kicking the door shut before flopping down on the bed, your bag falling to the floor. “You guys aren’t very hidden,” you murmured, propping yourself onto your elbows and arching an eyebrow at Scott, Stiles, and Isaac who all stood in the corner.

“I told you!” Stiles announced, pointing at the other two.

“That was your idea for a hiding spot, Stiles,” Scott stated, looking at Stiles confusedly.

“Why are you guys here?” you asked, pushing yourself off the bed and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Um, that girl said that you were the next target,” Isaac told you and you nodded, waiting for one of them to continue.

“We’re here to watch over you,” Stiles stated, smiling awkwardly.

“You sound just like Cas.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” You sat down on the bed. “Fine, you can ‘watch over me’ or whatever. But I’m staying up with you guys, so who wants to go out for a coffee and redbull run?” They all stood there and you rolled your eyes. “Alright, be back in a few minutes.”

You parked the impala and grabbed the tray of coffees and bag of 6 packs from the passenger seat, getting out of the car and hurrying over to your room. The door swung open and Scott took the tray of coffees from you. You thanked him and stepped inside, shutting the door behind you. “Alright, I got iced coffees, normal coffees, red eye coffees, redbulls, and booze. What’ll you guys have?”

“You know we can’t get drunk, right?” Scott asked and you nodded.

“Stiles can, but I know. Trust me, I barely can, I’ve grown such a high tolerance from it. I out-drank an angel who had to drink an entire liquor store to get fully intoxicated. Quite depressing. But we should at least water down all the caffeine we’re gonna drink!”

“How’d you even get alcohol?” Stiles asked as you tossed him a beer.

“I have more fake IDs than you can imagine. Including fake FBI badges, fake Sheriff badges-” You pointed at Scott and Stiles- “do not say anything about that to your dads.”

“How are you not a wanted criminal?” Isaac asked, taking a sip of coffee.

“Oh, I am. I’m on the FBI’s most wanted list, but I have a pseudonym.”

“God, you need to tell us stories about your life,” Stiles sighed. “The good stories, at least.”

You grabbed a coffee and shrugged, sitting down on the bed. “Gather ‘round children, Momma has some stories.”

“You have books based on your life?” Scott asked incredulously.

“Yup, and a musical based on those books. Oh! And in another universe, we have a tv show,” you told them, a big smile on your face.

“And I thought my life was weird.”

You chuckled and watched as they all yawned, stretching slightly. “You guys should get to bed. I’ll stay up.”

“Are you sure?” Isaac asked, looking at you with worry.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. And you guys need sleep. Big day tomorrow.” You hopped off the bed and let them all fight for it. Stiles, surprisingly, won and the two other boys sulked over to the pullout couch.

You sat in silence, watching all three boys sleep peacefully for a few moments before sighing and getting up, heading outside. You felt all-too-warm in your jeans and long sleeved shirt, although it was a fall night.

Stiles’ jeep caught your eye and you smirked, hurrying over to baby and grabbing the tool box out of the trunk. You ran back to the jeep and propped the hood open, sighing when you saw duct tape holding everything together. “Of course, Stiles,” you sighed, unraveling all of the duct tape before getting to work.

“You do realize it’s 3 in the morning, right?” Isaac asked as he stepped outside, a smile on his face as he watched you work on the jeep.

“Yup.” You continued working, unbothered by Isaac’s gaze.

What pulled you away from your work was Isaac’s warm hands on your hips.

“You know, groping me won’t stop me from being mad at you,” you explained, quickly finishing your work before closing the hood. You turned around and arched an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms over your chest. His smile just widened and you rolled your eyes.

“What?” he asked, looking at you confusedly. “What do you want me to say?”

“Three words. Eight letters.”

He chuckled and removed his hands from your waist, taking your hands in his, not bothered by the fact that they were covered in motor oil and grease. “I love you, I’ve always loved you, and I will always love you.”

“I was actually hoping you’d say ‘I have pie’, but that works too.” You finally smiled at him and he let go of your hands, wrapping his arms around your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck, looking into his sweet blue eyes. “And I love you too.”

He smiled brightly and finally pressed his lips to yours, and tears of happiness welled in your closed eyes as the familiar feeling of home swept over you.

He lifted you up and spun you around before setting you down on the hood The pressure on your phone in your back pocket caused the song you were listening to earlier to play. Like Real People Do by Hozier blasted through your phone and Isaac chuckled against your lips. “Perfect timing,” he whispered, breaking the kiss for a moment to look into your eyes.

You chuckled and smiled softly, your bottom lip quivering. “I missed you so much,” you sobbed, tears spilling onto your cheeks.

He smiled sadly and moved his hands to your face, quickly swiping the tears away. “Me too, beautiful. Don’t cry.” You sniffled and he smiled brightly at you, cheering you up instantly.

“We should head inside,” you whispered, sniffling softly.

“Just a little bit longer.” He pressed his lips against yours and you chuckled, kissing him back.

“Okay, the first thing you need to know is that what we are fighting, they are not real people, they are purebred monsters,” you explained, dragging your machete against the foliage-covered ground. “By killing these, you are saving people, not killing them. These things are only focused on killing you, they do nothing other than that. Once they are dead, it will not ruin your status.” You looked pointedly at Scott and smiled. “Do not feel mercy for them, because they will not feel anything but hatred for you. Understand?” They all hesitantly nodded and you slid your machete into its sheath. “I know this will be hard for you knowing this will be the first time killing anything, despite what you all believe.” Malia nodded and you smiled kindly at her. “But, you all need to remember, at the end of the day, these things would have died immediately after their mission was done, and we are just protecting ourselves and others.”

“Now, how to kill them,” Dean stated and you nodded.

You re-drew your machete and held it up. “To kill the army of vampires that will be following Hecate, you must decapitate them. Yes, it sounds disgusting and extremely hard, but, like I said, you are saving people by doing this, not killing them. But, if you truly do not want to cause any harm to these monsters, you can inject them with dead man’s blood. It is extremely difficult, though, if you are not good with aiming. So that is what I will be teaching you all today.” You gestured to the print-outs of targets and the mannequins scattered throughout the forest. “There are 100 targets and 50 mannequins. All of the mannequins are set on a rig that will make them move. You can either inject or decapitate the mannequins, and both actions will cause the mannequin to ‘die’. All targets will be used for trajectory practice, so you can only use those for throwing syringes/knives/anything that contains dead man’s blood.”

“What does the dead man’s blood do to the vampires?” Lydia asked, already looking over all of the targets.

“The dead man’s blood, once the vampires are injected with it, will paralyze them, kind of what the Kanima venom does. But the dead man’s blood completely paralyzes them, not allowing them to move, which does not allow them to bite.” You nodded and they all visibly gulped. “Now, who wants a machete?”

Stiles’ hand shot up and you chuckled, handing him one from the bag of weapons you brought along, handing another one to Kira, knowing that she would use it. The rest all grabbed the syringes and blood-dipped daggers you arranged on a table. “So how do we know if they are ‘dead’, per say?” Scott asked and you picked up a dagger, throwing it and watching as it hit the bullseye in one target. The target then grew red, showing that the weapon worked.

“As you can see, once you have hit the target in a spot that will work to paralyze the vampire, the target will glow red, showing that it has been effectively paralyzed. For the mannequins, you will know because they will have no head.”

“What about Hecate?” Isaac questioned, examining a dagger before looking at you.

“All I can advise is that none of you go near her, which will probably not happen, considering you guys always love doing what you are told not to do. So, if you are caught up with her, take one of these-” you held up a vile of olive oil mixed with holy water “-and splash the contents on her. Dean, Sam, and I will all be working on a spell to kill her while you kill the vampires. Understand?” They nodded and you grinned. “Good, now, get to it!” You blew a whistle and they all hurried to the targets and mannequins.

“They’re good kids, Y/N/N,” Sam stated and you nodded, smiling proudly as you watched them land every target.

“I like that Stiles kid,” Dean voiced as he watched Stiles swing at everything that moved, nearly hitting Malia a few times, which earned him a flick to the ear.

“I’m so glad I gave him a plastic machete.” You all chuckled.

“You should go out there, have some friendly bonding time.” You rolled your eyes but withdrew your machete, twirling it before running out and joining your friends.

“Alright, you guys did very well on the weapon training!” you told them, smiling widely. “I was thinking, before we start our next lesson, we should get some burgers.” They all cheered and you laughed. “Luckily, I thought ahead and remembered what you guys all liked. Food’s on the table. Don’t kill each other for it.” They all hurried over to the table and you sat down, leaning against a tree as you watched them.

“Not saving any room for me?” Isaac joked as he walked over to you, a bag of food in his hand.

“Will you let me eat some of your fries?”

He chuckled and nodded. “Fine.”

You smirked and scooted forward, letting Isaac sit behind you. You leaned back into him and he set his food down before wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin atop your head. “Fry,” you stated, opening your mouth.

“You’re ridiculous,” he told you, grabbing a fry from his bag and putting it in your mouth. You smiled and took his hand in yours, kissing his knuckles. He pecked your cheek in return and you hummed in satisfaction.

“You better hurry up and eat. We’ll be starting back up soon.”

“But I’m busy admiring your beauty.”

“You’re a dork.”

“I’m your dork.”

“Yes you are.”

“Okay, next we will be working on hand-to-hand combat.You will be practicing for 30 minutes, then we will do individual combat tournaments, where the first to be pinned down will lose, and the winners will face off. Okay?” you explained and they all nodded. “Great. Stiles will be paired with Lydia, Malia will be paired with Kira, Isaac will be paired with Sam, and I will be paired with Scott. Now, get to practicing, and please try not to kill each other.”

“You sure you wanna have Stiles paired with Lydia?” Scott asked as he walked over to you.

“Everyone else would’ve broken him.” You both chuckled and you popped your knuckles. “Ready to get started?” Scott nodded and you both took your stances, eyeing each other before you lunged forward, Wrapping your arms around his neck before swinging all of your weight to one side and tackling him. You pinned his arms to the ground and smirked as he wriggled under your grasp. “One, two, three.” At three, you let go and helped him up. “You went easy on me!”

“No I didn’t!”

“Come on, give it your all! Beat the human, alpha!” You jokingly punched his shoulder and smiled. “I promise, there’s nothing you can do that can hurt me more than anything I’ve ever felt. I’ve literally died twice.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Hell honestly wasn’t that bad, considering I’m chill with the King of Hell.” You chuckled and stretched your arms above your head. “Now, don’t hold back.” You both stood in your fighting stances for a few moments before Scott was the one to lunge at you. He tackled you to the ground but you flipped him over before he was able to fully pin you to the ground. He pushed up so you were in a sort-of standing position in order to dodge it, then he swiped his legs against yours, knocking you to the ground and pinning your wrists down. You smirked evilly at him before quickly pushing your body up with your legs, wiggling your legs out from under neath him completely. You pulled up, making go into a kind of sitting position before pushing him onto his back. You sat on his stomach, your bent legs on his biceps as you held his wrists down, whispering, “One, two, three,” before getting up and letting him go. “See? I can take it.”

“Can you take it easy on me?” You grinned and held your hand out, which he took. You pulled him to his feet and patted his back. 

You chuckled when you saw Isaac smile and wave at you. “Don’t be friendly, we’re the last two,” you joked gently nudging his shoulder.

“Does that mean that I have to win against you at combat?” he asked, grabbing your hands and pulling you close to him.

You rolled your eyes and squeezed his hands before letting them go. “Alright, let’s get to it.” You situated yourself into your fighting position and Isaac followed suit, a small smirk gracing his lips. “I wouldn’t be smiling.”

“Oh yeah, why’s that?”

“Because I’m gonna kick your ass.” You smirked and winked before lunging right at him, making him lose his balance for a moment before regaining it.

“That all you got, Y/N?” He chuckled and pushed you off of him with little effort. 

You arched an eyebrow and chuckled humorlessly. “Oh, you are so going down.” You ran over to him and jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist and swinging all of your weight to one side, taking him down. He flipped over so he was hovering over you and he flashed you one of his beautiful, bright smiles, which almost distracted you until you realized what he was doing. You wrapped your arms around his neck and untangled your legs, kicking yourself so you both were on your side. You swung your leg over more so Isaac was on his back and you were on top. You pinned his arms down with your hands and pressed your knees down onto his lower torso. “One, two...”

“Marry me.”

You stopped and looked at him with wide eyes and a furrowed brow. “What?” He smirked, noticing that your grip on him grew weak, and he flipped you over onto your back.

“One, two, three. I win.” He let you go and your jaw dropped, suddenly realizing what he did.

“That was so not fair!” you whined, sitting up and getting off of him, your arms crossed over your chest.

“All’s fair in love and war,” he teased, reaching up and wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his face into your stomach. 

“I hate you.”

“Love you too.”

You yawned and stretched, blinking your eyes to try and push the sleep away. “Get some sleep, sweetheart,” Isaac whispered to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to your neck. 

“Too busy,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes and continuing to scroll the results shown on Hecate’s weaknesses.

“You’ve been staring at that screen for three hours. Come on, you need sleep.”

“Mmm, not persuasive enough.”

Isaac smirked against your neck, moving one hand to your hip and the other to rest on your pubic bone. You sharply inhaled and he moved his hand to your inner thighs. “How about this?”

You breathed out a small moan but shook your head. “I want to, but I really have to get this done.”

He nodded and moved his hands to wrap around your waist. “Fine, but... how about after prom?”

You turned your body around to face him, looking at him peculiarly. “Are you asking me to prom?”

He chuckled and grinned widely. “I am. What do you say?”

“I-I would love too!”

“That’s my girl!”

“But-”

“But?”

“But... I don’t know if I can.”

“Well, why not?”

“I have people to save, cases to solve, work to do. I don’t know if I can stay here much longer.”

Isaac nodded and let go of your waist, folding his arms over his chest. “So you’re gonna leave Beacon Hills, leave your friends, leave me, all because of some monsters?”

“Yes, because this is what I do. I can’t just postpone killing monsters and saving people! This is my job!”

“So you’re gonna leave.”

“I have to.”

“And I’ll be all alone again.”

Your eyebrows rose in shock. “You’ll be alone again? You were the one who left in the first place! I probably wouldn’t be in this fucking life if you didn’t leave!”

“Here we go again-”

“Yes, because this argument is fucking bullshit!”

“But leaving everybody behind to essentially get killed isn’t?”

“At least I’m with people who don’t leave me all alone when I’m suffering!”

“Well, I guess I should just do that again, shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, maybe you should.”

Isaac nodded briefly and got up, yanking the door open and slamming it shut behind him with such force that the frames on the walls shook. 

You sniffled and wiped the tears from under your eyes, taking deep breaths to try and calm down. The light from your computer enticed you. “I guess I better do what he’s mad at me for,” you muttered, getting right back to work.

“Y/N, wake up, kiddo.”

You were roused form your sleep by someone shaking your arm to wake you, and you saw Dean’s worried face peering down at you. “What time is it?” you muttered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Around 7.” You groaned and buried your face back into the pillow. “What happened last night? I heard arguing.”

“It’s nothing,” you muttered, sniffling softly at the thought of it.

“I know something’s wrong. You don’t look at me when you’re about to cry.” Dean wrapped his arms around you and pulled you up. “Come on, tell big bro what’s wrong.”

“I’m not 5, Dean.”

“Well then stop acting like one and tell me what’s wrong, and then I’ll stop treating you like one.”

You huffed and wriggled out of his grasp, turning to face him. “Isaac and I got into a fight.”

“What about this time?”

“He asked me to prom.”

“I... I don’t see the problem. You like him, right?”

You nodded and looked down at your hands. “I... I love him.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I told him that I couldn’t go.”

“Why not? Everyone’s gotta go to prom, especially hunters. We gotta live our lives to the fullest.”

“I can’t because I have work to do.”

Dean stared at you, completely dumbfounded. “Let me get this straight... You turned Isaac, the boy you are in love with, down because you have to do research and travel with your two older brothers?”

“Yeah, basically.”

“Give me your phone.”

You looked up at him and furrowed your brows. “Why?”

“Because I am going to fix this shit, whether you like it or not.”

[stephicness]

Hmm. For the ship thing, how about some classic Promptis. ❤

Yeah! The classic booooooys~ :D Gotta love them classicbooooooys! So here! Have some Promptis!

SendMe A Ship, and I’ll Tell You…

Featuring:Noctis Lucis Caelum / Prompto Argentum

Who said “I love you” first?

Prompto would rehearse it inthe mirror every time he would even so much think about working up the nerve tofinally confess his feelings towards his best friend. A smack of his cheek, ashake of his head, words of encouragement to show that he was ready to finallysay what’s been on his mind for all of these years. ‘You got this,Prompto. Just tell him how it is…!’ He would go out with Noctis, spendingtime with his best friend, going on adventures and outings with him, but alas…He never found the courage to say it, and he hated himself for it. Beaten downand dejected, perhaps this was just the way it had to be. And yet, thatsaddened look on Prompto’s face prompted Noctis to act, putting his hands onhis companion’s shoulder and asking, ‘You know I love you, right?’If Prompto wasn’t going to say ‘I love you’ first, then Noctis supposed hewould do it instead.

Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background?

The king of photography,Prompto would feel as if he would be disgracing his profession if he didn’ttake pictures of the guy he was so infatuated with – the muse of his life andthe source of all of his inspiration and peace. He would take pictures of hisfavorite prince without much subtlety, with his camera, with his phone,sometimes doodling Noctis when both are unavailable to the blond-hairedphotographer. He would stare at each picture, admiring the details of theprince’s expression and keeping each memory close. His favorite photograph is,perhaps, the image of himself and the prince as ‘sea-side supermodels.’The salt water and frizzy hair afterwards was worth it in the end.But Noctls himself isn’t above taking pictures of Prompto either, but he’s farmore discreet about it. A picture he managed to snap of Prompto falling asleepunderneath a tree as he was looking through his pictures is the one Noctiskeeps as his background, a bit too embarrassed to show Prompto yet. He hides itbehind a lock screen with a picture of the Crownsguard insignia.

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror?

‘Morning, sunshine!’ and othervarious messages are usually left behind by Prompto over Noctis. Ignis keepsthe boys on a very strict schedule, and Prompto is easier to wake up thanNoctis is – for Ignis is far too spoiling of Noctis to work up the nerve towake up Noctis as promptly as the other boys. So Prompto’s one to hop into theshower after Ignis and sometimes Gladio (whom would rather shower every otherday or so, which quite frankly irks Ignis), leaving these tiny little messagesfor Noctis for when the prince gets up and showers for the day. He had to makesure that Ignis or Gladio don’t find the message first and tease him about it,but unfortunately, they do quite often.

Who buys the other cheesy gifts?

“Hey, Noct! Check this out!” Prompto’s one to quickly point out silly little trinkets and things as he andthe prince venture around and witness the sights. They’re often insignificantsouvenirs that Prompto at the time would joke about. A chocobo phone charm, forexample, because ‘wouldn’t it be funny if we had matching ones?’ Promptowould chuckle to himself as he moves along, but Noctis seems fixated on thosecharms. Matching charms, huh…? As Prompto finds himself distracted with the sightof interesting subjects to photograph, Noctis – who was finally allowedto carry his own gil for once, considering how bad of a spender he could bewhen Prompto was involved – was quick to by the two phone trinkets, hidingthem away and later gifting them to Prompto. It’s not the first time Noctis hasPrompto in mind for these sorts of things, and so Prompto finds himselfshowered in gifts and items until Ignis has to scold Prompto for inhibitingNoctis with such frivolous spending habits. Noctis does it, regardless of whatIgnis states.

Who initiated the first kiss?

It was meant to be simpleconversations and video games that night when Noctis had Prompto over for thenight as their high school graduation slowly came around. Prompto brought acase of the malt beverages Noctis liked so much that he had gotten from a fewof his ‘connections,’ Noctis had his console set up for the two of them tofinally finish their co-op campaign together, and they were set for the night.The drinks weren’t too strong, but Prompto likes to claim that it was a drunkenconfession the night he finally told Noctis how much he really cared aboutNoctis. Perhaps not in direct bluntness, as he blundered over his words quite abit, but it eventually resulted in Prompto leaning forward for the kiss, onlyto find himself unable to do so as Noctis was too distracted by their game. Hekept it to himself, which perhaps really bothered him to no end.But later that night, he managed to sneak in a small kiss to the sleepingprince’s lips just before he too fell asleep. Prompto could have sworn he sawthe prince smile after he had kissed him. But perhaps it was the drinks playingtricks on him.

Who kisses the other awake in the morning?

Noctis had always been a heavy sleeper. You could be jumping on the bed, rocking out to some music while screaming the lyrics at the top of your lungs, and Noctis would still be asleep. Odd, considering that it should be humanly impossible for someone to be able to sleep that soundly, but there Noctis was. He valued whatever sleep he could get, and it seemed like he refused to have that sleep be taken from him. So Prompto would find himself up and about based on Ignis’s schedule, grinning down at Noctis and placing little tiny kisses on the prince’s cheek and face. One kiss, he thought. One kiss should be enough. But alas, one kiss ended up turning into two. And then three. Prompto eventually lost track of all of his kisses, only breaking from his frenzy when he felt Noctis having kissed him back during the latest gesture, grumbling a small ‘Morning’ before he curled back under his blanket. Prompto’s face flared up with its red color before he wrapped his arms around the prince and gave him a tight embrace.

Who starts tickle fights?

“Stop that.” Noctis had to pull his shoulders upwards to hide his neck as he felt the photographer assault his neck with tiny little pokes and brushes of his finger tips. Head rolled around to keep hiding from Prompto’s persistence, grunts of discomfort and annoyance coming from the prince. Always. Always does Prompto do this. He’d attack Noctis’s neck with these tiny little gestures, only laughing even when Noctis told him to knock it off. Because seriously, that felt weird, and it always provoked an awkward noise from Noctis that was a cross between a grunt, a groan, and a whimper. Noctis really didn’t like that feeling, but Prompto always thought it was cute.It wasn’t until the prince decided to jump over the couch and tackle his companion down to the floor that he was finally able to get his revenge – straddling Prompto’s hips and sneaking his fingers up Prompto’s side and beginning to lightly scratch and brush his fingers over his sensitive skin and listening to the panicked laughter and breathy cries for help as Noctis made sure he’d tickle him to death.

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower?

With how long of a shower Gladio too, it ended up not only going well-beyond midnight before he finally stepped out in that tiny towel of his – but he also nearly took all the hot water. And after a long day of trekking through mud, dirt, daemon bodies, and whatever it was that Prompto stepped in as they crawled through that dungeon in Vesperpool, there was no way that Noctis or Prompto would wait until 3 AM until the hot water came back. Sitting in such awful smelling clothing would just be a nightmare for everyone in the hotel room.Noctis let out a sigh, glancing over at Prompto as he scratched the back of his head. Good thing the mud concealed his blushing red face as he spoke, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to muster up the courage to say, ‘Wanna just hop into the shower together…?’Prompto was quicker than lightning to drag Noctis into the shower with him.

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work withlunch?

It took Prompto awhile to finally be brave enough to go to Noctis’s apartment on his own accord. A weekend day, Sunday as well, it would be the perfect time to pick up some burgers and fries and just stop by Noctis’s place, right? Well, he thought it was. He was unfortunately unaware that Sunday was always Ignis’s day to visit, preparing Noctis his meals for the day and helping the prince with his homework to be on top of his studies. So when Prompto saw the tall spectacle-wearing man answer the door, Prompto found himself nearly dropping the bag of food as he felt his heart sink into his stomach. Looks like Noctis had a guest over already. He would just leave, he supposed.Noctis, however, came over the door, noticing that Prompto brought food over. He looked hopefully at Ignis, who stared and let out an exasperated sigh. “This is how you’re going to get fat, Noct.” But he understood that Noctis would much rather spend time with his best friend. So Ignis merely shifted his plans, allowing Noctis and Prompto to eat lunch together, and giving Ignis a free afternoon before returning to cool Noctis dinner. With one exception, of course: Prompto would stay for dinner.Free food? Prompto wouldn’t deny that, that’s for sure.

Who was nervous and shy on the first date?

It was official: Prompto was finally legitimately dating the prince. His prince charming. The whole idea was so surreal. Like, what was he supposed to do? To say? To let happen? After spending so long hopeless pining after Noctis, it was finally rewarded when the prince said ‘sure’ to Prompto’s date idea to the arcade. Prompto felt himself freezing as he stood in front of the door to Noctis’s apartment. He should just knock. Tell the prince that he was ready to go! But he checked his sweat levels to see if he wasn’t over sweating or smelly. He looked at his phone a few times, thinking that he’d look too desperate if he knocked five minutes too earlier from his time to pick-up Noctis. He did everything but knock. But he waited anxiously until he felt it was time for him to finally knock and ask Noctis if he was ready to go – of course, fifteen minutes after his intended time. But he wanted to be ‘fashionably late,’ because that’s what the cool guys do, right?If only he had known that Noctis spent the entire time staring through the eyeglass of his door, waiting for when Prompto would finally knock. But nevertheless, Noctis waited. Eagerly. Anxiously. But nevertheless, ready and eager to go on his first date with his favorite ray of sunshine.

Who kills/takes out the spiders?

Neither of them. That’s Gladio’s job. Because bugs, insects, and arachnids are icky.

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk?

“I really like Noct, okay? He’s smart, and great, and sexy, and he’s got a really like ass!” Noctis covered his face in embarrassment as Prompto swung his arm around Noctis and pointed at the prince. He had intended on just going to make sure that Prompto wouldn’t get too enthusiastic about drinking at this house party, but it looked like Noctis would need to be saved more than Prompto would. Prompto would just talk on and on about Noctis’s may traits, girls asking them how long they’ve been a couple and if they planned on getting married with how close and ‘in love’ they looked. Prompto would just confirm it all, saying that one day, he and Noct would have a marriage under the stars, just when dawn would appear, because that would be fun, right? Prompto thought so, and Noctis secretly did too.But it was too early to be talking about marriage yet. Instead, Noctis swung his arm around Prompto and lifted him up to help him get home without stumbling too much. Noctis remembers everything that Prompto said, but unfortunately, Prompto never remembered much of that night. But that’s alright, Noctis thought. He’d keep in mind their dawn-lit wedding plans, and have the idea close to heart after that night.