#they’d both fall over like dumbasses

[paradoxicalpaldeann]

soulmate body swap au but they try to take a singular step after swapping and instantly fall onto their face because their centre of gravity/balance is fucked

[lulunothulu]

Hello again!! Back with another request because you blew the first one out of the park 😍 this time could it be reader is a pilot and best friends with both Rooster and Hangman but they’ve been at each other’s throats lately so she decides to get the rest of the group in on a fainting prank she pulls on the two of them to force them to work together just fluffy worried boys

I love this and your brain 😭

“Hurt”

Hangman x Rooster x Reader

“You know next time I want a stupid opinion, I’ll ask for your input,” Rooster spits. The insult slapping Hangman as if it were Rooster’s hand.

“You know I’m right,” Hangman spits back. “You’re being reckless and you’re gonna get someone killed. Focus or get the fuck out of the pilot’s seat. You don’t need to be like your daddy you know.”

“The fuck did you say to me?” Rooster asks, getting in Hangman’s face.

“Woah, woah, hey,” you say, standing between them and holding a palm on each of their chests. “Calm the fuck down.”

“Tell him to calm down,” Hangman tells you.

“Tell him to watch his mouth,” Rooster counters.

These two handsome idiots are your best friends, the best you’d had in a very long time. So to see them arguing for the past two weeks had hurt more than anything.

They’d bicker about everything and anything. Yesterday, it was the fact that Rooster was breathing too close to Hangman’s ear at Hard Deck. The day before that, Hangman’s big mouth said something about Rooster’s dad and how flying with Maverick could get Rooster in the same predicament his dad did—dead.

“Just go take a walk,” you tell them. “Both of you.”

They mutter something under their breathes but they walk away.

“We need to do something about those two,” Phoenix tells you, wrapping and arm over your shoulders.

“You wanna make them box it all out?” Coyote asks.

“Nah, let’s make them drink their livers away and then make them fight,” Fanboy suggests.

“Those are terrible ideas,” you laugh.

“Maybe they’ll come together if something happens to you,” you hear Bob say quietly.

“What was that Bobby?” You ask.

The pilot turns red, looking anywhere but at you before clearing his throat and repeating, “Maybe they’ll come together if something happens to you. You know? If you get hurt?”

You rub your temple, thinking for a second before smiling and planting a kiss on his cheek—making him turn even more red than before.

“Bobby, you’re a genius.”

~*~*~*~*~

A few beers (and a lot of bad ideas) later, you and the rest of the Dagger Squad have a plan set in motion. A plan so great, the two dumbasses will stop fighting all together.

“Okay Bobby, are we ready?” You ask.

“They should be coming in any second,” he tells you.

See, the plan was to make it look like you’d taken a nasty fall and have Rooster and Hangman find you. What you didn’t anticipate was actually falling and getting hurt.

You’d just gotten the signal from Phoenix and Bob when you felt yourself slip from the ladder going into the jet you were set to fly that day.

It felt like a movie the way you fell.

Everyone around you screamed or yelled out. The world around you slowed down and you could see the looks of horror on Hangman and Rooster’s face.

They rushed to you but they were too late. You’d already fallen and hit your head in the concrete floor of the hangar.

“Is she breathing?�� Hangman asks, holding your head in a stable position.

“If you would give me a second, I can check.” Rooster tells him harshly. He checks your pulse point on your neck and putting an ear by your mouth before nodding. “Yeah, her heart is pounding and her breathing is shallow. We need to get her to the medic.”

Nodding, Jake lifts you into his arms and begins to race toward the medical room—Rooster on his heels.

“She fell from the ladder going into her jet,” Rooster tells the nurse while Hangman gently places you on the gurney.

“We’ll take her to get some vitals and a CT scan.”

The two aviators fall back, watching as the nurses wheel you to another part of the medical building. Rooster is the one to speak first.

“She terrified me,” he croaks.

“She’s gonna be fine,” Hangman counters.

“Why does everything turn into a fight with you?”

Hangman’s brows raise, a surprised expression taking over his features. “What makes you think I want to be fighting?”

“Because every little thing we do or talk about, turns into us fighting and Y/N stopping us!” He exclaims. He rubs his eyes, plopping himself onto a chair in the waiting room. “I’m just tired of fighting.”

“I am too,” Hangman admits. “Without Y/N to keep us grounded, I don’t know how to control myself. It’s just…god, you get under my skin.”

“Same here,” Rooster smiles.

“I thought we could’ve moved past our issues, especially after you and Mav came back when we thought you both lost…”

“I thought so too.”

They sit in silence, grateful that they can enjoy it before Hangman speaks again.

“I really hope she’s okay,” he whispers, head in his hands.

Rooster turns to face him. He’s shocked. He’d never seen Jake to worry for anyone but himself and maybe occasionally you. He claps his hand to Jake’s shoulder, causing Jake to turn to him.

“She’s gonna be fine, Jake.”

Hangman only nods. He knows if he speaks, the cracking of his voice will give away everything.

No, instead he places a hand on top of Bradley’s and nods—sighing when Bradley squeezes his shoulder in comfort.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A few hours later, you wake up in a dimly lit room. Beeping and the sounds of people whispering in the corner of…wherever you are…float to your ears. You sit up slightly to see Hangman and Rooster standing in the corner in a conversation.

They don’t look like they’re arguing…but you’ve been wrong before.

“Hey,” you groan. “No fighting.”

“Y/N,” they say, coming to your side, each taking one of your hands.

“How are you feeling?” Rooster asks.

“Like I feel off a ladder.” You squeeze their hands and smile. “I guess my plan worked.”

“What plan?” Hangman asks, eyes meeting Rooster’s.

“To get you two to stop fighting,” you tell them. You sigh when they open their mouths to argue with you. “Don’t even try to get out of this. You know you two have been fighting for the past few weeks. I was just tired of hearing it. I didn’t mean to actually get hurt.”

They’re silent for a bit before they smile at each other.

“What?” You ask. You turn to Rooster, eyes narrow. “Bradley?”

“W-what?” He stutters.

“What is it?”

“We talked to Phoenix,” Hangman tells you, making you swing your head to face him.

“Jacob Seresin, you tell me right now.”

“She told us about it your plan,” Bradley cuts in.

“And we’re very sorry we made you have to resort to…this.” Jake finishes.

You look between the two of them in disbelief. “Really?”

“Really,” Bradley nods. “And we’ll try not to fight so much.”

“If you two start it up again, I don’t k know what I’ll do,” you chuckle. “Maybe throw myself off a roof?”

“Please don’t,” Jake laughs.

Ugh… I need a Jake and Bradley

[goldfades]

Heyy girlie I’m literally in love with your Luka content and I think you write the crash out couple relationship beautifully! So do you think we can have something semi long or longer maybe, whatever you wanna do! About maybe how people were calling Luka overweight how they’d both react to it and then something about Luka first game against the mavs as a laker?

Thank you! I love you writing.💕

BIG BOY ───── LUKA DONCIC

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨��𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | -> Luka overweight how they’d both react to it

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | nothing but some self doubt, but it's very fluffy<3

You first heard it on the broadcast, but you didn’t think much of it.

Some offhand comment from an analyst, something about Luka’s “conditioning” and how he was “carrying extra weight.” It wasn’t the first time you’d heard it, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. You barely blinked, barely let it register—because, frankly, you didn’t care.

But then, it spread.

Clips from the broadcast turned into Twitter threads, which turned into entire segments on sports talk shows, where they dissected Luka’s physique like it was up for debate. They threw around words like soft and out of shape as if he wasn’t averaging near a triple-double every night, as if he wasn’t dropping thirty on people’s heads like it was nothing.

And Luka? Luka acted like it didn’t bother him.

Which is why you knew it did.

He played it off with the same easy confidence he always had, smirking through postgame interviews, saying things like, “I don’t care what they say, I know how I play.” And sure, he probably meant it. But there was something different. You saw it in the way he stared at his phone a little longer after games, in the way he lingered in front of the mirror, in how he skipped dessert one too many times for it to be a coincidence.

So, one night, while he was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone, you climbed onto his lap and snatched it out of his hands.

Luka groaned, already knowing where this was going. “Babe—”

“You better not be looking at that dumbass discourse.”

“I’m not.”

You raised an eyebrow.

He sighed, tilting his head back against the couch, running a hand through his hair. “Okay. Maybe a little.”

You huffed, placing his phone on the coffee table before turning back to him. He was looking at you now, that guarded expression he got when he didn’t want to talk about something but knew you weren’t going to let it go.

“You know you’re not built like some twig, right?” you said, voice softer now. “And that’s a good thing. There’s more to love.” You smirked, running a hand over his chest, then down to his stomach, where you gave a light squeeze. “My big boy.”

Luka groaned again, but this time it was different—more exasperated, more affectionate. He grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, shaking his head with a small smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re fine as hell.”

That got a laugh out of him, low and warm. He pulled you closer, arms wrapping around your waist, resting his forehead against yours.

“You don’t care at all?” he murmured.

You kissed him, slow and deliberate, letting it linger before pulling back just enough to look him in the eye.

“Not one bit.”

Luka hummed at your words, something thoughtful behind his eyes even as he smirked. His fingers pressed into your waist, kneading absentmindedly, as if he was committing every inch of you to memory.

"Not one bit, huh?"

You shook your head, resting your hands on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your palms. "Not one bit."

Luka sighed, dramatic now, tilting his head back against the couch. "So you're saying you don’t think I should be shredded? All abs, no stomach?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Absolutely not. If I wanted to date a protein-powdered gym bro, I would have." You squeezed his side again, grinning. "You're perfect, exactly how you are."

Luka groaned, but you could feel the way his body relaxed under your touch, the tension he'd been carrying for days starting to ease. "You sound too convincing."

"Because I am convincing," you said, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "And also because it's true."

His arms tightened around you, pulling you flush against him. "Mmm, maybe I should start listening to you instead of Twitter."

"Now that would be a genius idea." You flicked his ear playfully. "What, you think NBA Twitter is a better authority on your body than me? Your very devoted and very hands-on fiancée?"

Luka snorted. "Oh, so now you're an expert?"

You gave him a deadpan look. "I literally have my hands on you right now."

"Fair point," he muttered, grinning.

You leaned in, your voice quieter now. "It bothers you more than you're letting on, huh?"

Luka exhaled through his nose, his grip on you shifting slightly. "I mean… I try not to care. I know I’m playing well. I know I’m not—” He hesitated, shaking his head. "I know I'm not out of shape like they say. But I see it all the time. I hear it. It gets in my head sometimes."

Your expression softened, and you reached up to smooth a hand over his hair. "Luka, people are gonna talk no matter what. If you were shredded, they'd say you lost too much weight. If you were heavier, they'd call you lazy. It’s never about your game—it’s just noise. And you don’t owe anyone an explanation about how you look."

He was quiet for a moment, his blue eyes searching yours like he was trying to absorb everything you were saying.

"Besides," you added, shifting your weight slightly on his lap. "I like you exactly like this. You’re strong. You’re solid. You’re you."

Luka tilted his head. "So if I ever did get super ripped, you wouldn’t like me anymore?"

You rolled your eyes. "I'd love you no matter what. But if you ever get so shredded that I can't use you as a personal pillow anymore? We might have problems."

Luka laughed, deep and real, and you felt the last of his tension melt away. He kissed your shoulder, his nose brushing against your collarbone. "Guess I should keep a little something, then."

"Exactly," you said, looping your arms around his neck. "For my sake."

"For your sake," he echoed, amusement flickering in his eyes. Then, after a beat: "You really don’t care at all?"

You cupped his face in your hands, looking him straight in the eye. "Luka. I love you. All of you. Every inch." Your thumb traced over his cheekbone, your voice firm. "And I promise you, there is nothing wrong with you."

Luka swallowed, his jaw tightening slightly like he was holding something back. Then, slowly, he exhaled, nodding.

"Okay."

You arched a brow. "Okay?"

He smiled, small but genuine. "Okay."

Satisfied, you kissed him—slow, deep, lingering.

And that? That said more than words ever could.

[dianawinchester03]

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

Series Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

____________________________________________

Third Person POV

Aurora, New York

•One Week Later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

•One Hour Later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________________________________________

•Time Montage

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

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

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

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

-

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

-

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

-

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

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

-

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

-

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

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

____________________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________________________________________

Black Rock, New York

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________________________________________

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_______________________________________________

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Xoxo

[ador3rin]

4:30am | happy birthday, dumbass

pairing : bakugo katsuki x f!reader

tags : fluff, childhood friends to lovers, college!au, extremely self indulgent

tw : alcohol usage (legal)

wc : 4452 words

once a year, every year, katsuki breaks his nightly routine of heading to bed at 8pm sharp in favour of sitting and waiting for the clock to countdown to midnight. the boy is dressed and out of the door by 11:45pm. 

glancing down at his phone to check the time, a warm breath escapes his lips as he comes to a stop, staring up at your bedroom window as he quietly opens the gate and heads for the front door. he doesn't knock, there's no need. the door swings open just as he shuts off his phone that reads 11:59pm, and he's met with your grinning face. 

"happy birthday, dumbass." bakugou grumbles, tearing his eyes up off the groud to take in the way the moon delicately shines upon your features. your eyes form crescents and you laugh softly, impatiently ushering the male inside before the chilly night air has another chance to bite at his flushed cheeks.

inside, you'd already prepared your living room for the 'ultimate movie night’ as you liked to put it. the couch was practically engulfed by a mountain of pillows and plushies, topped off with blankets thrown atop haphazardly. "i can’t believe your dumb ass is 16." katsuki scoffs as he makes himself comfortable, throwing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “this is for you, or whatever.” he shoves something soft and orange into your hands, eyes avoiding yours.

an orange fox stares up at you with beady little eyes, and you immediately recognised it’s lopsided little face. “katsuki! did you go back for him!?” you question with excitement, plopping down besides your friend and cooing over your gift. you had stopped by an arcade a few days ago with bakugou, and spent almost half your allowance on desperately trying (and failing) to win the toy, whining miserably on the walk back home. 

“tch, no. i just had some free time yesterday. it was easy peasy.” the blonde boasts with a cocky grin to match his tone. he’d in fact demanded some extra money off his old man, and went back there on a mission to bring home the ugly thing. “now are we gonna watch this stupid lion movie or what?”

your arms fling around him for a quick thank you hug that leaves his cheeks warm and ears red, before readying yourself for what would probably be the hundredth viewing of your favourite movie–the lion king. bakugou had recently admitted to never seeing it before, much to your horror, and you'd finally managed to get him to cave for your birthday. 

the two of you settle into a comfortable silence as the movie begins, that’s only disturbed with bakugou’s snarky commentary. luckily, he eventually begins to fall quieter and quieter as his eyelids grow heavier and heavier. it was way after his bedtime after all. about halfway through the film, the sounds of his even breathing signifies that he's knocked out cold. stifling your laughter as you gently reach to shut off the tv, you let out a small yawn before relaxing into your side of the couch with your new plushie and falling into a peaceful sleep. 

the next morning your mother discovers the two of you just as she'd expected to, a fond smile on her face as she snaps a picture of the troublesome duo to send to mitsuki. the two mothers gush over how cute their babies are and joke about how they’d wish you guys were as quiet together as when you were both asleep. 

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

there is a calm stillness that has settled over your household as your parents had long gone off to bed, but quiet sniffles break the silence as you furiously rubbed at your misty eyes, an aura of misery shrouding your frame as you gave yourself a once over in your bathroom mirror. you were moments away from turning 18 yet you looked a mess. 

you’d thought you were handling your breakup rather well, but unfortunately the late night spiralling thoughts intertwined with feelings of both anger and hurt eventually brought you to tears. a gentle knock at the door notified you of someone's presence, and you were soon met with a familiar face. 

concern adorned bakugou's expression, his brows furrowing as his chest tightened with a quiet rage. "happy birthday, dumbass." the soft tone of his voice betraying his intentionally agitating words, leaving them devoid of any hints of playful malice. heavy arms envelop you in a comforting embrace, and the dam you'd just managed to clumsily build in your eyes breaks in an instant, and tears began flowing once more. “i don’t know why i’m crying.” you admit with a huff, shaking your head in annoyance. 

if he wasn't so preoccupied with being here with you right now, bakugou's almost certain he'd be heading towards that asshole's house, prepared to give the beat down of a lifetime. "he's a fucking asshole. i'll kill him." the blonde sneers mostly to himself, earning a breathy chuckle from you in response. "i'm almost tempted to let you." you respond dryly, looking up at him through wet lashes. 

"let me?" he frowns. "the fuck do i need your permission for?" red eyes squinting at you with a grumble, releasing you from his hold. you roll your eyes in response, wiping your wet eyes with the sleeves of your hoodie. “okay, i’m done.” you announce, straightening your posture. “i’m not wasting anymore tears on that asshole, good fucking riddance!”. katsuki grins proudly, your resolve is admirable. he never understood what you saw in that loser anyway, you were way out of his league.  

“thats my girl.” the blond pats your head roughly, making his way out of your bathroom with you in tow. “do you wanna, uh.. watch one of your stupid chick flicks or something?” his hand rubs at his neck, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other and you laugh. 

“you can just say you enjoyed mean girls the other day ‘tsuki.” mischievous glint in your eyes as you look up at him with a teasing grin, and the sight of you finally smiling again was all he’d ever wanted. 

“i fucking didn’t!” 

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

“hey yn, what are you thinking of doing for your birthday?” the pink haired girl asks curiously, immediately catching the attention of the other girl sitting besides you. “yeah! twenty one is a milestone, we should do something super fun!” ochako chimes in agreement, plopping her pen down onto her notebook. “how about a girls night out?” she suggests.

“ah, i’m not sure yet guys.” you laugh with a shrug. you had never really done anything big for your birthday before honestly, you were happy to just spend time with the people you cared about. no one asides from your parents were aware of your little yearly ritual with a certain hothead, and you’d gotten so used to spending the first few hours of every birthday with him that you never even thought about it–it had become second nature to the both of you. your friends chatter animatedly as they discuss potential party plans, unbeknownst to your wandering thoughts. 

things were slightly different this year, you’d met both mina and ochako at the start of the year and the three of you quickly became an inseparable trio. you wondered if bakugou would be willing to attend any of the ridiculous plans the two girls were discussing.

 “i don’t know guys, clubbing isn’t really my scene.” you chuckle, imagining loud booming techno music and a sea of sweaty bodies. “well, we could always just throw a house party instead? that way there wouldn’t be a bunch of strangers and we have complete control over the music!” mina, the infamous party girl suggests as she clasps her hands together eagerly.

“it’s only if you’re down though, obviously.” she adds.

“yeah, definitely! we’re happy to do whatever it is you want, it’s your day!” ochako reassures with a warm smile, putting down her pen on the journal she was just doodling in. you’d never really thrown a party before, but there was a first time for everything, no? 

“okay. but you guys really have to help me, i have no idea what to do.” you give in, excitement growing at the possible new experience. “yes!” “of course!” the two girls cheer, immediately chattering up a storm about the millions of potential plans. 

it had been just over two weeks now since you’d established your birthday party plans with your girlfriends, and surprisingly, quite a lot had been organised since. your parents agreed to go out with mitsuki and masaru and for the night, having their own little old people party before spending the night at their place. 

you’d promised that you would only allow your closest friends to spend the night, and that you wouldn’t let things get too out of hand. katsuki had also put your parents at ease, promising to keep an eye on things and handling it if anything got out of hand. 

and before you knew it, everything had fallen into place. all that was left to do was to actually host the damn thing, which you were admittedly feeling quite nervous about. you’d never really had all that many friends before, real, close friends that is. 

being lumped together with bakugou katsuki for as long as you could remember was both a blessing and curse, and so you’d never really felt the need to venture out on your own socially speaking. you were mostly cordial and friendly with peers at school, but it was thanks to mina and ochako and their vast social circle that you actually begun really talking to new people. 

you would be in for a rude awakening if those same new people didn’t actually consider you a friend the same way you do them, and you’d hate for the girls efforts to go to waste.

“oi, did you come over just to stare at my wall? if so, you’ve got plenty of your own at home.” katsuki breaks you out of your trance, sending a sudden flick to your forehead that leaves behind a stinging sensation. 

“why are you always so damn violent! you’re never going to get a girlfriend this way!” rubbing at your head with a whine, you childishly scribble in the top hand corner of his pristine page of notes as petty revenge. 

“FUCK OFF, NOW I HAVE TO REWRITE EVERYTHING!” there’s a deep exhale from bakugou’s lips and the annoyance fades from his expression, he looks over at you sitting across him at the dinner table. “you’re going to be fine. stop overthinking about your damn party when it hasn’t even happened yet.”

startled that he’d actually managed to pick up on your damp mood, your brows knit together as you feign ignorance, “i’m not overthinking it, i don’t know what you’re talking about.” katsuki raises a brow, so unconvinced that it’s almost laughable but you stubbornly avoid making eye contact.

“it’ll be fine cus i’ll be there.” the sentence falls from his mouth so effortlessly, a guaranteed reassurance that no matter what goes down he’ll be right there with you–as he always has been. sure, he may not understand your worry wart tendencies, but whether katsuki realises it or not, his strong sense of unwavering reliability leaves you with a small smile as you both return to peacefully studying. or, mostly peaceful studying. 

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

“are you sure my ass isn’t hanging out guys?” mina whines exasperatedly, neck craning round to see her back side in the mirror in front of her. “you look hot mina, stop fussing!” ochako chides, shifting her attention away from her phone for a moment. “izuku’s gonna be here soon.” she beams with adoration, liking the text he’d just sent. 

“careful, if you look anymore excited he might mistake you for a lovesick schoolgirl.” the other teases, playfully tugging at ochako’s cheeks. you roll your eyes with a smile, amused by their antics and smooth out the pleats in your skirt, giving yourself a final once over before turning to seek your friend’s approval. 

you’d thought that you looked fine–cute even, but the sudden silence causes a bundle of nerves to begin forming in the pit of your stomach. maybe your eyeliner wasn’t even? or your hair was ugly? or maybe, the outfit you’d bought was actually really hideous and you should just call off the entire thing because no one’s going to want to come anyway and you’d really just be embarrassing yourself?

a sharp squeal pierces through your spiralling, and you see a blur of pink hair before mina is bouncing up and down in front of you clapping her hands together with glee, and you take this means she does approve. ochako has now joined along side you two, minus the squealing, and the three of you huddle around your floor length mirror, for few cute photos together before you’re all eventually shitfaced. 

“we’re so cute! i love you guys! happy birthday yn! LET’S PARTY!” mina gushes, barely allowing herself to catch her breath in between sentences as she pulls the both of you in for a group hug. “you,” she suddenly juts her finger at your chest “little miss birthday girl, you have to let loose and have fun tonight. no responsibilities, capiche?”

“you do realise her actual birthday is tomorrow right?” uraraka giggles, and you hear someone knock thrice before a green mop of hair pokes his head in, izuku offers a small wave before informing you of the crowd that is now gathering downstairs. 

it was hard to believe that this was actually your house, with the walls all dressed up with balloons and various cute party decor littering almost every surface. the strobing lights and thumping music perfectly emulated the vibe of a club, and with how busy it was starting to get you almost couldn’t tell the difference. you have got to get a thank you gift for the girls after this.

“what’re you staring off into space for ya dunce.” the ever so recognisable gruff voice comes from behind, the sudden proximity sending a chill down your spine. spinning on your feet, you’re met with katsuki’s stoic expression, and you allow yourself a mere moment to glance over his appearance for the occasion. 

a loose white button-up drapes over his large frame, with a few top buttons popped open just enough that his toned pecs daringly peek through. it’s paired with one of his nicer black leather jackets, you’d never admit it to his face but it was always one of your favourites. it was practically made for him. he’d also opted for simple pair of darker blue jeans, not too formal but nice enough that you can tell he put a bit more thought into his outfit, rather than his usual t-shirt and sweats. 

“take a picture loser, it’ll last longer.” your cheeks flush, and you tear your eyes away from him immediately, now having a staring contest with the brown hardwood floors instead. 

“shut up. i’m just so used to you looking like a bum i was caught by surprise.” embarrassed that you were caught ogling your own best friend you grumble out a snarky response, praying that he lets this go on account of it being your (almost) birthday. 

“so you admit it.”

“what?”

“you think i look nice.” he’s smirking, cocking a brow and feeling so damn smug you could practically taste it and you refuse to stroke his inflated ego any further. opting to cross your arms and huff, akin to a petulant child as you grind your teeth with a scowl. you can’t lie to him and disagree, but you’d rather die than give in and admit that he’s right. 

“you look pretty.” katsuki’s tone is completely different, lacking any pompousness, and if you looked closely enough you would notice that the tips of his ears now burn a bright shade of red that rival his eyes. for the second time that night he’s caught you off guard completely. before you can stammer out a response, a loud red head stumbles into the room and throws a heavy arm around the both of you. 

“happy birthday yn! this is some bash!” eijiro beams, tugging the two of you in for a three way hug before katsuki can wrestle him off. “woah, bro! you look so manly!” it was clear he’d had a few drinks before this encounter, and you chuckle at the obvious irritation painted across bakugo’s face.

you internally thank kirishima for interrupting the strange tension that had unknowingly begun to creep up on you and bakugo, and with an exhale of relief you’re filled with giddiness to match kiri’s tipsy state. 

“will you do shots with me eijiro?” he’s still got his arm slung over you, not that you’re complaining of course, comfortable enough in your relationship with him to know that there’s nothing between you two but platonic affection. 

“anything for my birthday girl!” the red head cheers, leading you to the kitchen with bakugou trailing behind begrudgingly. katsuki knows better than to get jealous over kirishima, hell, other than you he probably considers him his closest friend. but that doesn’t ease the tight burning sensation that he feels in his chest upon hearing eijiro’s words. who’s birthday girl?

hours had gone by and at this point you were now teetering dangerously on the line of tipsy, and just flat out drunk. kiri and mina were currently having a dance off in the middle of the dance floor, with a crowd hollering so loud you would be worried about a noise complaint if you weren’t so out of it yourself. 

you were cheering and laughing uncontrollably, most of the control over your senses had disappeared with the last straight vodka shot you’d downed at your friend’s behest. it was your birthday! you needed to let loose so what’s a shot or two, or three? to be quite frank you had stopped keeping track of your drinks after the consecutive beer pong losses. 

partying this hard was fairly uncommon for you, only feeling safe enough to let your guard down due to the fact that you were in the comfort of your own home, and thankfully katsuki had been glued to your side all night (to no one’s surprise). he had even shouldered some (most) of the penalties from the games as a result of your piss poor aim. 

“hey, idiot. you need to drink more water, come with me.” katsuki appeared to be almost stone cold sober, but even he was not immune to copious amounts of alcohol coursing through his system. for some strange reason he had been feeling more.. irritable? for lack of better of word.

all night, any potentially wandering hands or even mere glances in your direction that lasted just a bit too long for his liking had been peeving him for the past hour or so. kaminari had even teasingly called him a guard dog a little earlier much to his misfortune, earning the guy some very colourful language and a punch to the gut. 

you let out a whine, but compliantly allow him to lead you off the makeshift dance floor without further protest. his hand swallowed yours, enveloping your entire palm with zero difficulty which left you wondering just when he’d gotten so much larger than you. his sheer height and size caused the sea of people to simply peel apart, allowing the two of you an easy exit route. 

lost in your thoughts, you’re brought back to reality when you’ve plopped down onto something soft, the familiarity of the walls makes you realise he’d brought you upstairs to your room. bakugou knew the layout of your home like the back of his hand, a privilege borne from the countless days of his childhood spent within these very walls, with you attached to his hip. 

“drink.” the blonde commands, and you oblige, the cool water flowing down your throat offers your body some reprise from the hard liquor, and you’re left feeling surprisingly refreshed. once he was content with how much you drank, bakugou took the glass from your hands and placed it on your nightstand, besides the picture frame of the two of you as kids, sporting toothy grins and peace signs. 

there’s quiet shuffling as he settles down besides your bed on the carpeted floors, a comfortable silence falling over the two young adults to the soundtrack of a far away thumping. you hum absentmindedly, glancing over at your clock that read 11:59pm and then down at katsuki who was already looking up at you. 

he rarely got to see you like this nowadays, the height disparity between the two of you growing so vast over time that he almost exclusively looks down at you now. but as of this moment, a small part of him wishes that he hadn’t grown so tall, if only for the chance to look up at you the way he was currently. 

the moonlight shone through your thinly veiled blinds, he knew from a young age that you were always her favourite, he knew from the moment he saw how she cupped your face in her rays ever so delicately, shining over your soft features and painting you in such a romantic light it was practically unfair. katsuki bakugou had come to the realisation that he had never once stood a chance. 

“happy birthday, dumbass.” his usual commanding tone was soft, demure almost, as if he were trying to coax a small animal out of hiding. there was no one else but the two of you here in your bedroom right now, same as it had always been for all your lives, but this time, something else was there.

it was the poorly concealed tension that you both so carefully avoided, stuck in a constant loop of dancing around a topic that neither dared to breath a word of, in fear of speaking it into existence. your mind suddenly felt as clear as it had ever been, and you were consumed with a need to lean into him, just as you’ve always done, except this time around you fear that simply laying your head on his broad shoulders won’t be enough. 

bakugou clears his throat, breaking his trance as he digs around in the pocket of his pants. “it’s for you. or whatever.” he mumbles, offering his enclosed fist up to you whilst vehemently avoiding eye contact. he had never shown that much interest in your walls before and you had half a mind to repeat the sarcastic phrase he’d offered you just a few days prior.

you stick out your palm inquisitively, and a second later there’s a dainty silver chain resting in the previously unoccupied space. a soft gasp falls from your lips as you carefully pick up the necklace, thumbing over the small heart pendant. 

“‘tsuki, it’s, it’s so pretty.” you smile fondly, eyes flickering over to katsuki who is feeling uncharacteristically shy, despite telling himself it was just a stupid birthday present. it was normal for someone to give gifts for a birthday, so why did this feel so stupidly intimate?

“thought it’d look good on you. i dunno. i don’t know that stupid girly stuff so, if you want to exchange it for something else you can, i don’t care, i just-”

“since it’s my birthday now, can i ask for my birthday wish?” 

“hah? don’t you always say you can’t tell me cus it won’t come true or some shit? plus there’s not even a candle to blow out so it doesn’t even make any sense.” you interrupt his incessant rambling by sliding down off your bed, clumsily settling besides him on the plush floor and gazing up at him with an unfamiliar glint in your eyes.

regrets and worries be damned, this tension had already begun to swallow you whole and with just enough liquid courage, you feel as if you could possibly take charge of it for once. your judgement may be clouded but your desire was not, you knew exactly what you wanted as of this moment, clear as the current night sky. 

“can you kiss me?” 

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

a sweet caramel scent drifts around your kitchen, your favourite candle that you’d burnt earlier had already blanketed the apartment with a fragrant haze that’s begun blending in with the aromatics coming from the sizzling pan. 

a long forgotten movie is playing in the background, providing white noise as you lean your head into your palms resting atop the kitchen island. the sizzling and crackling groans of the pan had almost put you intro a trance, as you admired the tall blonde figure seamlessly handling the kitchenware with expertise.

“ah.” a pair of chopsticks deposit a juicy and succulent slice of wagyu into your eagerly awaiting mouth, the perfectly prepared meat melting between your chewing as you writhe in your seat with joy. 

“mm, that’s so good ‘tsuki! can i have another piece?” you open your mouth expectantly, eyes twinkling as you savour the taste left over on your tongue. the male doesn’t oblige however, instead bringing down two plates from the cupboard above. 

“no, idiot. i’m done now anyway, just let me finish plating it and go sit at the dinner table. your staring is creepy.” your face scrunches at his denial, yet you slide off the stool and settle down at meticulously set dinner table. 

a freshly purchased bouquet of your favourite flowers acts as the centrepiece, accompanied by a few lit candles and two carefully folded napkins besides matching silverware. your heart swells with joy as you take in all the minute details that were all so thoughtfully prepared, before katsuki sets down both plates of food.

he finally joins you over at the table, placing a chaste kiss to the top of your head before sitting down as well. it was definitely a late dinner, your eyes flickering over to the living room clock now reading 11:59pm while he cuts your food into bite sizes.

you absentmindedly twirl the dainty heart chain on your necklace, before katsuki draws your attention by gently cupping your cheek with his hand and softly stroking with his thumb, as if you were a doll made of porcelain. you never fail to take his breath away, he thinks to himself. 

“happy birthday, dumbass. i love you.” he grins adoringly, reduced to nothing but a love struck man who will forever be captivated by just how beautifully you reflect the moon’s light.

# mew’s comments :

FIRST POST BACK LET'S GOOO!!!

i drafted this TWO (2) whole years ago on a lonely night before my birthday, as self-indulgence and actually finishing it now healed something in me :')

[poedays]

Rarepairs (bordering on crack ships) pt2:

Avior + Honey

Listen, listen, listen - they would be so hardheaded against a each other. It would be like an enemies to lovers type of deal. Fighting over something just so they can make out- I mean make up. In an ideal world they don’t get stuck in the meridian together, but if they did, there would be so much more tension. Stare offs just because they feel like it, bumping into each other despite having so much space, both of them being stubborn and blunt and just- honestly it’s kind of like a one bed type of trope but instead it’s one hell. Also, I think Honey would be so chill about him being a daemon - or they’d pretend not to care on the outside and then go “give me a second” and then freak out in a bathroom or something.

In Avior’s theme, I feel like Honey would get a star related pet name - like “comet” or something. But while they’re in their enemies to lovers era, I think it would be a sarcastic “genius”.

On a completely different perspective, Honey would call him “dumbass”, or actually- no, he’d be “smartass”. I think dumbass is reserved for Guy/Honey. And Avior does seem more of the smartass variety.

David + Vega

LISTEN. LET ME EXPLAIN…

So. Okay.

You’re telling me you wouldn’t want these two to fight for control while they’re around each other? You’re telling me you don’t want the alpha werewolf and the sadism daemon to go through a toxic romance togther? You don’t want a reformed version of Vega being clingy as hell and bothering David 24/7, because what is David going to do about it? Vega rifting into pack meeting and disturbing David’s peace? That’s entertaining to me. Vega treats him like a toy to play with, and David is… you know, David.

Vega would call him “puppy”. David has no choice in the matter. Vega won’t call him anything else. Not even his name. The occasional “my alpha” I can also see, but in a condescending way to piss him off. Honestly any pet name would be used as a way to piss him off.

On the assumption that Vega’s horns are red, I think David would go with “Red” as the pet name. Because it’s just a descriptor with zero emotional ties to it and David is just like that.

1999 Sam + Gabe

Okay. It’s only a teen year age gap (I think). Hear me out. A hookup - They met at one of those rodeo bar thingos - Gabe was doing great on one of those bull riding machines and Sam was undressing him with his eyes from the audience.

Gabe out for a night of fun with Frank (Talbot), and Gregory (Keaton) who’d dared him to try out the bull riding machine - betting to buy Gabe a drink depending on how long he’d last. Sam who’d just started his academy coursework, out for one last fun night before being stuck into studying for a few months.

Gave falls off the things, ends up at the bar. Sam comes and gets comfortable next to him. They strike up conversation, Gabe mentions that his friends bet him a drink to last for some time on the bull, but he was a few seconds off from winning that drink. Sam says something along the lines of “why don’t I buy you a drink instead?”. Then the rest is history.

Gabe would call Sam “cowboy” because of his accent, and Sam would roll with it, calling Gabe “sugar” in return.

[whoahoney]

Based off this lovely thought that got deleted bc my dumbass posted the draft instead of saving it 🥲 anon, I hope this finds you!!! Please tell me if it did 😭💖 this could’ve been a mini series I think but I’m too lazy to spread it out!

Anyway, here’s my rambling imaginings 💖

Warnings: fem!reader, quite a bit of angst, a lot more fluff, some wine drinking and allusions to spice.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hate to say it, but you’d been dreading this.

The news had been exciting when they found out about the tour. You, too, felt that exhilarating burst of energy hum through the room as the tour manager began the breakdown of the cities they’d see and the venues they’d play.

You’d hardly heard the shouts of joy around you, but you did see Jake’s face. His eyes so wide and bright, his smile stretched so taught across his mouth, his cheeks must’ve ached. You’d never seen him so happy as he threw his arms around Josh, clapping him on the back. Sam and Danny bounced over, already deep in eager conversation about Milan and France.

It was everything they’d been dreaming of.

Everything Jake had been dreaming of.

The four of them were a tight clump, muffled chuckles and words were exchanged as their parents joined in their embrace with pride and tears. Your heart swelled at the sight, being able to be here for it, to watch them celebrate, to see their dreams come true before their very eyes.

A world tour.

They’d just finished their last one, barely even unpacked. And now he’d be gone again.

Your stomach sank heavily, like a rock into quick sand, guilt churning deep within you; how could you be so damn selfish? This is everything he’s ever wanted and you’re thinking about yourself, again.

You keep the smile on your face, your hands knotted in your lap until Karen turned to you, eyes rimmed in red as she wiped at them, “Oh, honey, get on up in here—what are you doin way over there!” She chuckled as you blushed and made your way over to the unwinding arms, the layers of bodies falling away as Jake let go of Josh and looked to you.

One side of his smile hiked up, and you could see he’d clearly shed a few tears of his own as he wiped a fresh track away and passed it off as tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. You don’t hesitate to reach for him, chuckling softly when he yanks you into his chest and wraps you up tight.

You breathe him in, and swallow a hiccup—his neck a heady mixture of his warmth, sandalwood, and something deep and spicy that always cut through you. Tonight you clung to it like a safety blanket, thinking of the nights you spent in his bed without him, nose buried in his pillow as you tried not to cry like a lovesick fool.

“It’s really happening.” He whispers against your hair, running a tender hand down the back of your head.

You nod, “Better believe it, rockstar. You deserve every bit of it.” You squeeze him a little tighter before pulling back, already feeling the swell of emotions brewing within you.

For the rest of the visit with the managers and family, you sat quietly next to Jake, his arm slung around you holding you close, his other hand on your knee. He noted how tightly your legs were crossed and how you picked at your nails unflinchingly, not much to be heard from you.

Jake knew he didn’t need words from you to know you were okay, but every bit of his intuition told him something was up. He’d worried about leaving you alone so much. About how tiresome it must have gotten to be in a relationship over the phone for the last 8 months. Even missing your first anniversary while he was in Chicago.

He wondered if maybe your feelings were fading, that maybe he’d thought wrong about claiming all life had to offer him—that he couldn’t have both love and fame no matter how many times he convinced himself that maybe it’d work with the right person, and he was well passed sure that he’d found that person in you.

“—But until then, you guys are free. So use these next couple months to your advantage!” Aaron clapped and rubbed his hands together, eager for the next time they would hit the ground running.

Jake shoots you a familiar glance, his eyes asking, ‘are you ready to go?’

You nod and stand with him, bidding the family a good night before you were in Jake’s car headed back to his house.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The ride was quiet, almost tense. Jake thought maybe you were biding your time, wanting to be careful with your words and say the right thing as you always did. His chest tensed and he turned up the radio, so maybe the pressure to say something wouldn’t be so bad.

You were thankful for the Jefferson Airplane coming through the speakers, Today lulling you into a hazy calm as you stared out the window at the dark tree line. Jake snuck a glance at you every once in a while, trying to figure you out in a way he never had to before.

When you reach the long driveway and park, he turns to you expectantly. Your eyes dart away from his, scanning the car for anything else to look at besides his pretty face that made you wanna crumple like old paper.

“What?” You ask barely over a whisper.

“That’s what I’m wondering, myself.” He says casually, running his index finger down your cheek. “Talk to me.” He says softly.

You swallow and shake your head insistently, “Nothing, babe, I’m just tired. S’been an exciting day.” You chuckle and meet his eye with a soft smile that told him you were okay. You kissed his palm that now cradled your cheek before he could ask anymore questions. “That’s all.” You assure.

Jake nods and swipes his thumb across your cheek one more time before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours chastely—once, twice, three times, before pulling back and appraising you.

“Let’s get inside.” He whispered, suggesting a hot shower as you open your door and comically rush ahead of him just to hear his boisterous laughter.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It hadn’t been long since Jake had fallen asleep, his hair still damp from when you washed it for him, bergamot and rosemary shampoo the two of you shared lingered in the air around you. The light of the moon kissed his nose, his blanket tucked up over his shoulder. He was always beautiful, but when he slept he looked prettier than a Grecian bust.

You couldn’t sleep no matter how tired you got, and staring at the object of both your affection and agony wasn’t helping. You snuck out of bed, pulling on the cozy robe he’d gotten you the first night you stayed with him, and made off to the living room with your phone.

You’d become quite familiar with the space despite not getting to share much time with Jake in it. He’d asked you to take care of the plants and his cat, Percy, reminding you to send him pictures and updates whenever you were over there.

Really, he just wanted to see you in his house like it was your own. When you sent him snapchats looking all cute and sleepy in his bed, it did more for him than he thought possible. He’d told you to sleep on his side so that when he got home his sheets would smell like you, and you had no objections to his request.

Since the start of Dreams in Gold, you’d practically lived here, waiting for him to come home.

Your steps were light and slow as you crept down the hall, the quiet chatter of the forgotten TV was directed around a beautiful Asian dish being made on the screen. A single lamp was lit and the orange glow filled the room and part of the kitchen.

You spy your AirPods on the island and plop down in a chair at the counter, another soft light just barely illuminating the kitchen, emanating beauty and nocturnal comfort.

You tuck an earbud into your ear and open your music, trying to piece together the genre that would make the ache go away, nothing too slow or sad, nothing too loud— and then it hit you with a small smile.

You search up the 50s Greats playlist and hit shuffle, sighing in content when the sound of Unchained Melody began. Your mind went peacefully blank, and you laid your head on top of your folded arms.

And then you spotted the wine fridge.

The idea sounded lovely, a glass of fancy red to make you sleep? Yes please.

You tucked the other ear bud in and went about pouring yourself a generous amount of drink in a long stemmed glass Jake brought back from a vineyard he doesn’t remember visiting.

You took a generous gulp and tried not to gag at the bitter taste. It burned all the way down but not with a bite, a slow bitter curl coated your tongue and throat, insisting on more and more to be drunk.

So you do, and finish the glass before tucking your knees to your chest.

Your head was heavy, and just as Can’t Take My Eyes Off You begins, you notice the cooling tears that had fallen down your cheeks unknowingly. You sniffle and then hiccup, twisting your empty glass and considering a refill as Jake shuffled out of the hallway, his pants slung low on his hips and his shirt missing.

He rubbed his eyes and squinted around the room, spotting you after you sniffled again from your place balled up in the chair, your face buried in your knees.

“Hey…” he whispers, not noticing your headphones until he wraps his arms around you and you jump with a yelp. You rip out your AirPod and face him with flooded eyes, in the midst of your cry. “Baby!” He coos in surprise, “What’s wrong?” He pulls you back into his chest, his fingertips at work against your scalp.

You shake your head, “I… I-It was just a bad dream. I’m okay, I promise.” You sniffle, staring at his chest and not his face. His hands cupped your chin and made you meet his eye.

“Look at me.” He said with quiet and loving firmness. You lock eyes with him and take a deep breath through your mouth as he does. “I know you haven’t been to sleep.” He said knowingly. You close your eyes in embarrassment. “I need you to tell me what’s wrong…” he whispered, “—Before I start making assumptions.” He finished as if he hadn’t already formed them from the moment he saw your face at the studio meeting.

You stare at him for a moment, your tipsy brain swimming with swollen emotions and bruised self image.

“Everything.” You whisper before shaking your head, “And absolutely nothing. Truly.” You clamp your eyes shut in confusion. “It’s gonna be fine though.” You assure quietly, both yourself and him.

Jake puts a hand on your shoulder, keeping the other on your face. “Is this about the tour?” He asked quieter than before, his tone void of emotion.

You hesitate before you nod, and he mirrors you when he sees your answer, and you feel fear strike through you like a crack of thunder. He tsks and you feel his fingers squeeze your shoulder before rubbing it lovingly, “Whatever you’re thinking… I just want you to know… whatever you want, I want too.” He said directly into your eyes.

Your brows pinch before you shake your head, “What?”

He shakes his head and casts his gaze low, his mouth flat and eyes still empty, like a stone wall was put up to guard the windows you’d so easily peered into before. Was he angry? Was this what it looked like for him?

“I should’ve thought about what it would mean for you— me being gone all the time.” He said lowly. “I don’t blame you for getting tired of it, I really don’t.”

“It’s not that I’m tired of it, Jake.” You finally say. His eyes find yours again and you place the AirPod in your hand on the counter to cradle his face as he had done yours, “I love seeing your dreams come true. You are magic out there, baby—I will never get tired of hearing all the stories you have or the feeling I get when you call me on the road.” You ramble, thinking out loud more than anything.

“I’m just… scared.” You realize. Jake flinches back a little in confusion, “—scared of everything the world has to offer you—Everything I don’t have—it’s out there. And you have every opportunity imaginable, now. And yeah, I miss you like crazy, and I get bummed when I realize I’m watching your life happen through a phone screen, but I love seeing you happy even more than missing out makes me sad.” You shake your head emphatically.

Your phone lights up and Jake catches a glimpse of the album currently playing and forgotten in the AirPods. Jake looks back at you and picks up the loose ear bud, tucking it in his ear before reaching for your phone and unlocking it.

You chuckle in disbelief, tears still rolling down your face as he scrolls through the playlist and selects We Belong Together by Los Lobos and sets the phone back down, adjusting the volume with his slick smile that told you everything was about to be fine.

“The world?” He asks as he pulls you to your feet and places his hands around your waist. You drape your arms around his shoulders as you’d done countless times before and waited for him to continue, “I have it. Right here.” His fingers worked under the back of your shirt to graze your skin lovingly.

You scoff as he begins to sway you both side to side, his eyes boring into yours with unwavering confidence in his words. “I’m serious.” He says before releasing one hand from you and raising the other to have you spin, which you obliged with an adoring eye roll.

“You say that now, but—“

“No, no buts.” He shakes his head and begins swaying you again, “I don’t care what’s out there when I already have everything I’ve ever wanted right here at home with me.” He pulled you close and kissed your neck, the affection sending more tears prickling at your eyes and a wistful sigh

“Jake—“

“Shhh…” he whispered in your ear, tucking your head into his shoulder, “You’re mine. And I’m yours.” He said. “Nothings going to change that. Not as long as you want to be with me.” He stroked your back reassuringly as more tears fell down your cheeks.

“I always want to be with you.” You whisper pathetically, letting your forehead thunk against his chest.

You feel him chuckle against you before he kisses your head, “And I with you.” He says like a guy with a plan before he spins you, smiling at your own sleepy smile and closed eyes as you begin dancing with him properly, hips swaying and bare feet shuffling across the cold tile floor.

You giggle, “I can’t believe you like me that much.”

Jake snickers at your flushed skin, happy to see you so light after the heaviness that followed you today. He missed you. This.

Jake loved dancing with you. Whenever a song called to him, he was quick to sweep you up in a waltz and relish every smile or giggle he could pull out of you. When you started staying the night with him, you guys would take turns playing music, which quickly evolved into Jake playing beautiful melodies he said reminded him of you, songs he’d heard and longed to share with you in a close dance.

To think of it, everything made him think of you, he realized as he swayed with you in his arms. “More than you know.” He mumbled, spinning you one more time before wrapping you up and resting his head against yours, singing the rest of the song in his low velvety voice.

─── ��� ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There were only two weeks left til the band left for tour.

After your conversation with Jake things felt better. The dread hadn’t loomed over you like you assumed it would, and things with Jake were as good as ever, no holds barred anymore. You were quick to tell him your thoughts and feelings, even more so now than you had before, and seemingly, so had Jake.

You worried you’d lose that once he left, though. That it would be something you had to work and build at when you’d get back together.

During Dreams in Gold, you made three shows, and got two weeks with him in the middle of the tour, uninterrupted—which was nice! But it was different than seeing him every day and falling asleep next to him at night.

Today, you were at the studio to go over more details and itinerary for the first leg of performances in the states.

You and Jake showed up only 20 minutes late with matching iced coffees, Sam scoffing when he saw you didn’t bring him one of his own.

“This is what I get for being here on time!” He flopped into the couch and looked at Danny, who was just reentering the room, “They got Scooters!”

Danny’s eyes widened, “That’s so uncool.” He playfully seethed before whipping out his phone and muttering something about delivery and a cookie.

Jake obnoxiously slurps the emptying drink with eyes locked on Sam’s. Sam lurches to his feet and storms over to his brother to snatch the empty cup and throw it in the trash. “Not on my watch.”

Wordlessly you hand Jake yours, still half full, for him to take a sip just as Josh strode in. “I made it! Can we get a time stamp?” He asked the room around him.

“It’s 9:37, Josh.” Aaron marked from the other side of the room as he prepared itemized sheets for everyone. Josh nods with an easy smile. “We were due to meet at 9:00.” Aaron amended, wiping the smug smile off Josh’s face.

“Oh. Well, we’re all here now, right? Let’s start! Whatcha got for us?” Josh leaned on the table and listened intently.

The group gathered around the table and took a look at the papers in front of them, getting handed your own with your name at the top for whatever reason. You miss the expectant look from Jake and Aaron but you read the pages carefully, seeing where this adventure would take Jake this time.

Back through the states, most he’d seen before, and then the countries— the Netherlands, Germany, Ireland, Spain, Portugal— places you’d dreamed of seeing long before you dreamed of Jake Kiszka.

You sigh, softly and dreamily as Aaron talks transport for their European leg; plane rides and first class tickets, excursions to the Louvre and Stonehenge, and lodging and hostels.

“Is the little place we have for our week in France the same one we used for that little getaway we took a couple years ago?” Sam asked with excitement.

Aaron nodded as did Jake, “Yep! Oh, Jake, I put you guys in the empress suite like you asked. I’m still waiting on confirmation at two of the other hotels, but you guys should be set with a master suite wherever we’re staying.” The manager looked from Jake to you as he spoke, your confusion stirring, was there a mistake? Are he and Josh sharing rooms?

Jake looks to you with expectant eyes, as if waiting for your thoughts. He smiles and nudges your shoulder when you don’t answer, “What do you think?”

“About what?” The group breaks into laughter as you look at Jake for an explanation.

“About coming with me.” He took your hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. You softly gasped and looked over the papers in front of you again, your own agenda highlighted in orange for when the band would be busy.

You look back at him in awe, “Really?” Is all you can muster in a ghost of your voice.

Jake smiled and nodded quickly, “Yeah, of course—I’m tired of leaving you.” He covered your hand with his. “Say you’ll come.”

You nod before you can speak and then kiss him right on the mouth. “I wanna be wherever you are.” You say with a cheek aching smile, a real one stretched wide across your face.

“And I, you.” He agreed, though he knew his words could never convey how much he shared the feeling.

But hopefully… the other surprises he had planned for the tour can say it for him…

-

-

[alientater]

I have so much to say about s3 of bridgerton so I’m dumping it all into one post. Take my dumbass opinions as a writer for what you will 😂

- first foremost thank you my QUEEN Nicola for your confidence and courage (I am no better than a man 👀). I feel like this whole season was a reminder for me, through both Pen and Colin that bodies that look like my own (Pens) deserve love. I can’t even begin to tell yall how much watching people swoon over her body specifically has made me 🥹 blush because my own looks so much like hers.

- I absolutely adored how devoted Colin was to Pen. Watching him realize his love for her in all her forms, with all her flaws was absolutely adorable and wonderful and beautiful, and it, in its own way, comforted me that the more masculine side of my self can be the romantic, the devoted, the loving person that I am as well. Both his little speech in the carriage and his love confession at the end are now living rent free in my brain.

- I know many people think they should have cut some of Benedict’s scenes but I’m against that opinion. I ADORED his character development this season, and I think it served well as a break in the tension of the plot. you will NEVER catch me unhappy to see a bisexual king living his best and horniest life.

- I’m so glad Pen got to keep her Column. The books end with Colin revealing her identity and I’m so glad they changed that. So much from the book was changed to give her more agency and I’m so so so happy about that.

- Genuinely, I’m so excited to see what happens in Scotland with Francesca and Eloise and Michaela and John!! I have a suspicion they’re going to make it another spinoff show like Queen Charlotte, and then we’ll get Benedict’s season (which 👀💕 I have no clue what they’ll do with it but WHATEVER it is I will be parked in front of that TV the SECOND it drops). Whatever it is they have planned I have a sneaking suspicion we’re finally going to get some sapphic romance 👀 so.

- I absolutely cannot stand the hate this season is getting online. I really think it was well done, and I enjoyed every second of it.

- I do wish they’d shown a *few* more spicy Polin scenes (or maybe made the end one a bit longer bc HOOOO boy 👀 I needed about another full 5-10 minutes of her riding him lord GOD almighty I need a glass of WATER). BUT they really didn’t get any more spice than Kate and Anthony did last season (in fact they had quite a bit more I’d say), and I know we’ll see more of it next season hehe 😈 so 😏.

- John dying is literally actually physically going to break my heart when we get to Francesca’s storyline. ALSO I think I really…. I want her to fall in love with him wholly and completely too. I think she has in some ways. I hope in her story, they explore the very real love between them, mostly because I adore his beautiful lil autistic ass.

- I really wish they’d brought back Daphne and the duke a bit more to help violet and Fran a bit. I think Daphne specifically would have really helped soothe that relationship.

- can we get an Eloise Benedict swing scene every season?? Plz? For me? I adore their queer sibling bond so so so much.

- I’m so glad Pen and Eloise are on good terms again. Their friendship breaking just really…

- also, on Eloise, I adore the character growth I saw her go through this season. I think she’s really learning how to see and love the people around her for who they are and it’s so beautiful. I think people were right about her self absorption to a certain degree but… every character has flaws. No one is really infallible. And I think I went through a similar growth, learning how to check and weild my priveledge, and it’s comforting to know I’m not alone in some of the mistakes I made

- I have so many feelings about Cressida Cowper. I know she’s a bully, and I disliked her originally, but something about this season made me…. Sort of like her. First of all, she’s so cunty and I absolutely LOVE that for her. Her outfits are 😮‍💨 every single time. The SLEEVES on those dresses. Like. I really hope she has character growth of her own. Also. You can’t convince me that woman isn’t a femme lesbian. I want to see her set up a nice little estate and live happily ever after with a woman she loves, honestly. I feel like it was really realistic and fascinating to see her schism with her family. I hope she doesn’t take her mother’s advice to heart. That she breaks the generational curse and learns to be both kind AND cunty 😂. I hope Eloise and her make up somewhat too. I just. I don’t want her to be the villain. The pressures of society are their own villain.

- Bring back Edwina Sharma and her Prince can we start a FUCKING petition bro.

- two people in on that show that no matter what they are being paid, are not being paid enough 1) the COSTUME designer and 2) the intimacy coordinator. Every five seconds I found myself saying “god that dress” or “oh man, I need that waistcoat”

- I love that the writers chose to make the featherington sisters more than just… jokes? Philippa especially. She really had some of the best breakout lines of the season “insert himself where” GIRL “Farley, now! the bugs!!” SHES SO CUTE and Mr Finch baby boy so are you and your love for her 🥹 it’s just so wholesome. I love that Shonda really has showed through this show that even with our eccentricities, we all deserve to be loved, appreciated, cherished.

- we stand by Portia featherington. She really made the best of some SHITTY as situations, and we love her for that. It’s so important to me that she’s not the villain either. That she and pen worked things through, learned how to support each other, and that Portia apologized. I think she’s definitely…. Let’s say morally gray but how morally grey really is robbing the aristocracy? 🤫. I honestly? Kind of hope she finds a love match, or finds happiness in her singleness without having to rely on a man. That she learns to live in her power.

- Did I mention how devoted Colin is to Pen? Can we return to that? My FAVORITE moments of this season were the ones where he is so absolutely down bad for her that he can barely speak bc ME TOO baby boy. ME TOO. and that it’s pen. This season was for the girlies who never get noticed, who never had boys crush on them. Who have to make do living vicariously through others, who have to learn to love themselves, because the world does not seem to.

- can we bring back lord debbling? Lowkey…. I kinda liked him. I need him to be Cressida’s beard for real 🤫

- the mirror scene THE MIRROR SCENE 🫠😮‍💨😰🤤 I…. I have so many feelings. I keep hearing people being like “it was so cringe” but? I think I loved it because it felt so…. Realistic? I found myself loving it because it was so… slow and sweet and intentional and it was in every way an extension of Colin’s feelings for pen. He loves her enough that he treats her with only the most kind, most slow and soft touches. He considers her pleasure before his own (which, god is that dreamy I wanna be this man SO BAD). He talks her through. he appreciates in every way she SHOULD be appreciated. I’m just. I’m never going to be over how fantastically luke played him. How fantastic Luke and Nicola’s chemistry was. Can we appreciate the shots angles looking down on Penelope too bc oh man. Oh boy. Jesus Christ she would be walking ME like a dog to if she looked at me like that Holy Fuck. Also the THIGHS the TITTIES (👀 respectfully 👀 RESPECTFULLY). The little sneaky views of Colin’s butt hehe, the way Pen GULPS when she sees Colin (girl SAME). It reminded me so vividly of my own first time. it made me miss being that young and… idk. I feel like sex scenes often feel fake or unrealistic and the ones in this just felt SO real.

- on that topic can we all just appreciate how much Kate sharma is getting her cookie ate bc 😂 lord only knows she deserves it. ALSO. Petition for next season: I ABSOLUTELY need to see Colin on his knees doing the same for Pen 🤤👀 bc you KNow that man is a service top, and she deserves it.

- genuinely genuinely. I’m so afraid of the show now getting canceled because it has openly queer characters 🥺. I’ve fallen in love with it and it’s like there’s this dread, in the pit of my stomach, that it’s all going to end prematurely because people are already acting so shitty.

- I need violet to have her own spinoff with Marcus 👀 and CONTROVERSIAL OPINION (not controversial) I need their sex scenes bc 😳 LORD . I am not. ahem. I am sinning looking at lady bridgerton like this 😂

- I loved lady Danbury and pens exchange at the end of the season and they’re great friends in the books! I hope it develops more!

- how does Jonathan Bailey so convincingly play a man utterly in love/ lust with his wife as a gay man 😂. Also. Anthony’s little “LILACS”? Still thinking about that lol.

- I’m so glad Eloise didn’t tell Colin about pen being whistledown.

- really wish we’d had a wedding night sex scene 😅

- pen wearing a full set of acrylics and riding that man’s dick is….. god. I have been given a gift.

- Need Need NEED more of the Mondriches, just being happy and finding their place. Their ball this season was fucking fantastic.

- the end camera shot of Colin and pen kissing in front of the window she always watched him from 🫠🥹💕 I’m actually sick it’s SO PERFECT

- I knew Penelope was going to have the only boy 👀😏 called it hehe

- I think one of the things I love most about the show is just… seeing women support and uplift each other and work through things. Talk about the hard things. That’s how we grow as people.

In conclusion, I know many people disliked a lot of things about s3 but I, personally, adored it. And I also know why the writers cut what they did, and did what they did. I honestly think if they’d just added a few small things it would have been perfect. There was so much happening this season it felt overwhelming almost, and I think if I were to say if there’s anything to learn from this, it’s that they need to slow down. Focus on and give each plot its share. I wish I could give Bridgerton an infinite budget for infinite episodes to do whatever they wanted bc I know it would be good. ALSO if I have to endure a month wait like that again I’m actually fucking rioting. I liked the anticipation but it felt too long and just…. Idk. I think an episode a week would be a better way to stretch it if they wanted to keep that ploy. Anyways. If anyone’s actually read this far, I’m so sorry 😂. And to all the people griping… get a grip. It’s a beautiful show and the writing was honestly fantastic. just enjoy the media for what it is im actually begging you. If this show gets canceled because of something as trivial as not enough Polin sex scenes and having actual queer representation in fucking coming for ALL OF YOU.

Peace and light

Annika

[sunshine-theseus]

Fuck the RFEF | Amaiur Sarrigei x Reader

Words: 1.8k Summary: you refuse to play for the national team, risking your playing license, Amaiur disagrees Warnings: angst, !!mentions of SA!!, let’s pretend the girls are on a break in Barca before the call-up and Amaiur went to the wwc Requested by - @realsociadadferminofan

Patri, Cláudia and Mapi were who I always went to when something went wrong. Joining the 3 in abstaining from national team call ups after the 2022 Euros and being one of the 4 that refused a call-up for the world cup due to lack of action toward Jorge Vilda’s misconduct, they were basically my closest friends. Not to say the other girls didn’t mean a lot, I know if they felt like they could, they’d have joined us in refusing. But these 3 were who I had when I felt like crying as I watched my friends and girlfriend win the biggest football tournament in the world.

This also meant I’d go to them with relationship problems.

-

“What do you mean?” Patri had quickly paused the movie she was watching and called Mapi and Cláudia over when I came crying and banging on her door.

“I told her ‘I don’t care about losing my license if it means going against my morals and everything I’ve protested’ and she called me selfish and brainless.” Another sob wracks my body and I fall back into the arms of whoever is next to me.

“Amaiur said that?” it’s Cláudia who asks, tone of voice proving how ludicrous Am’s actions were.

“Verbatim.”

--

“Am! Did you get the email?” I yell across the house for my girlfriend who sits in the living room doing God knows what.

“Sí! Did you?”

“Yeah! What did you say?” my teeth worry at my bottom lip as I wait for her answer.

“I said yes, it’s a national call up. What about you?” I’m not sure what to say as my girlfriend strolls into our bedroom, holding her phone to her face.

She’s clearly re-reading the email we’d all been sent. An email majority of us had signed a statement saying we should not receive if changes were not made, especially after the events at the world cup.

“No.”

“Que? Que quieres decir ‘no'?” (what do you mean ‘no’?) Amaiur gives me a shocked look as I retreat beneath our blankets.

“Nothing has changed Am. How am I supposed to go back? Did you even read the full email? ‘If you refuse this national team call-up, your professional playing license may be revoked in correlation to the Spanish FIFA and RFEF code of conduct.’ They’re forcing me to reject my morals and risk my entire career for some shit call-up.” Angry tears prick at the corner of my eyes. This isn’t fair, how does she find this fair?

“Bebé, they got rid of Rubiales and Jorge, that’s what everyone was fighting for. You, Mapi, Patri and Cláudia, you can come back now.”

“Amaiur how do you not see nothing has fucking changed just because they got rid of two shitty people? Alexia, Ona, they wouldn’t be going if it wasn’t to protect the other girls, especially the younger ones. Esas chicas merecen algo major.” (those girls deserve better).

“So you’re not going? You’re giving up your career for this? You’re being a selfish and brainless cabrona!” (dumbass) the anger quickly melts off her face and regret fills her eyes, but I’m already pulling the sheets off me and heading for the door.

I grab my keys from the bowl that sits on the table beside the door, and leave. Her pleas for me to come back so she can apologise are futile as I walk down the hall. Señor Perez, the old man with many cats, sits at the end of the hall, giving me a pitiful smile that I return before making my way down the stairs.

--

“Ese pedazo de mierda.” (that piece of shit) it’s the first thing Mapi has said all evening, but it makes me laugh.

“No. I mean yes, but I still love her, I don’t think she meant it. We were both just angry.” It’s hard not to defend the girl I’ve loved for so long, but I know I’m right.

She’s always supported my decision to stand up against the RFEF and higher-ups. I just think she expected after Rubiales and Vilda were gone, we’d be playing together again. Admittedly I’d momentarily thought the same, but there was no way I could go back.

“Are you guys going?” the trio give each other guilty looks before turning to me. No one says anything.

“It’s okay if you do. I truly understand, you guys shouldn’t risk your careers for this. You’re being forced into it and that isn’t fair. I’ll support you no matter what.” I place an arm around Patri and grab Cláudia and Mapi’s hands.

“Thank you hermosa. We’re still going to fight this, from the inside.” Mapi says it in a funny voice and sends me a wink and I can’t stop the laugh that escapes.

Not much else can be said before we settle down on the couch to continue whatever movie it is the Patri has playing. Despite me calming down, I didn’t think I was in a state to return to my girlfriend quite yet. The universe seems to disagree.

There’s a loud knocking on the door and a familiar voice rings out from behind it.

“Patri, I know Y/n is in there! I need to talk to her! Please?” I’m standing and opening the door before anyone can reply.

Amaiur doesn’t waist a second in spewing out apologies and wrapping her arms around me. I reciprocate the gesture and begin rocking us back and forth. It’s hard to ignore the stares of our Spanish teammates who sit looking on in the living room.

“I’m so, so sorry, I can’t believe I said that to you. I stand by you, you know that. I’m just so scared for you and your career. You love playing so much and you might lose it all because of this.” I let out a sigh and pull away, resting a hand on her cheek.

“Do you want to know why I’m so willing to risk it all? Why I need this change so bad before I can come back?” she gives a simple shake of her head.

I have to give myself a second, swallowing nervously as I look into her eyes. The warmest, most beautiful eyes. She should know, I’ve hid it for too long.

“When… When we played in the Euros, there was one night where I was feeling bad. You were out with some of the girls, and I was in our room alone. Well around an hour after you left, Vilda came bursting in, obviously we weren’t allowed to lock our doors so there was nothing to stop him. He asked why I wasn’t doing team bonding and I told him I wasn’t feeling well. He came toward me and hugged me like he was going to comfort me, but-” I begin to choke on my words and tears breach my waterline. I can’t bare to look at the girls around me.

Am places a hand softly over my hand that rests on my own arm and I take a deep breath before continuing.

“His hands began to stray. I told him to stop and shoved him away, but he just kept going. He groped my ass and boobs, tried taking my clothes off. He slipped his hand down my shorts.”

“Did he…” Amauri is too scared to finish her sentence.

“He didn’t get that far; someone came knocking on the door and he just left with a sick grin.”

“Did you report him?” Everyone around me looks like they’re about to throw up, but for the most part they look angry.

“I reported him to every higher-up I could. They laughed me off and told me I was being delusional. That is why I can’t go back until there is actual change. Especially after what happened to Jenni and knowing other girls have been through it too. If that means I lose the job I love? So be it. They won’t shut me up.”

“I’m not goin-” Am tries.

“Yes you fucking are. I already told those 3, and I will tell Alexia and Marta and Mariona and whoever else I need to. You have to go, to ensure things change. And to make sure the younger girls are safe.” Cláudia, Patri and Mapi have all disappeared, so it just leaves me and my girlfriend.

“For you. I’ll do anything for you bebé.” I stand on my tippy toes to press a kiss to her lips.

“Thank you.”

~~~~~

4 members of the Spanish Women’s National Team have been released from international duty without sanctions, not including Alexia Putellas who has been allowed to leave due to injury. Is the change we’ve been waiting for, finally coming?

It’s the main headline across all media platforms the morning of the second day of camp. A 7-hour meeting to release 4 players. Fucking ridiculous.

Despite it, a smile tugs at my lips as I sit in bed, the sun filtering through the stained-glass windows of Amaiur and my bedroom back in Donostia-San Sebastian. I wait patiently for my girlfriend to arrive, a cup of coffee on her bedside time while my own rests in my left hand.

“Hola bebé! Is that coffee I smell?” the door slams shut behind Amaiur and her footsteps slowly creep closer to the bedroom.

I place my coffee on my own bedside table and get up, pouncing into her arms when she walks through the open door. She stumbles for a moment before adjusting her grip on my thighs, smiling brightly up at me as I lean down and kiss her hard.

My hands thread through her hair and she turns us around and walks forward to press me against the wall. In a moment of weakness, she squeezes my thigh and I let out a moan, allowing her to slip her tongue past my lips.

Not long after, we have to break apart for air.

“You’d think I’d been missing for months with the way you kiss me.”

“Any amount of time away from you it too long.” I give her a small smile and she pecks my nose, making me giggle.

“Can we cuddle and drink coffee while we watch movies?” I pout at her as puts me back on my two feet.

“Anything for my girl.”

Very soon after, I find myself in her arms on the couch, all curtains drawn shut, warm cups of coffee abandoned on the table, Encanto playing loudly on the TV. Naturally I sing along poorly and quote every line.

“Have you heard from the RFEF about your license?” I smile into her neck at the question.

“I get to keep it. And they gave an apology. Not that it means much still, but we’re getting there.” Amaiur squeals and jumps off the couching, taking me with her. She lifts me up and spins me around before putting me back down, spreading kissing across my face. My heart clenches at her display of love. How can one be so perfect?

[hot-and-confused]

interrupted - d.winchester

⋆˙⟡♡ word count : ~2.2k

————————————⋆⋅☆⋅⋆————————————

twelve

december, 2000

the sound didn’t even register at first, mallory only half-heard it, too caught up in the way dean’s hands were curled around her hips, his thumbs sliding beneath the hem of her shirt, and the slow, lazy press of his mouth against hers. she was perched in his lap on the living room couch, her knees slotted on either side of his thighs, his belt buckle nudging against her pelvis as she shifted closer. they’d been like that for the better part of thirty minutes, tangled up and unhurried, kissing like they had all the time in the world — which, they did. bobby was supposed to be out until nightfall, and sam was god knows where, leaving the house deliciously quiet and perfectly empty.

dean’s mouth was hot against mallory’s, his hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer like he’s trying to melt her into him. her legs are slung over his thighs, fingers twisted in the hem of his shirt, and she can feel the tension in his grip — like he’s not planning on letting her go anytime soon. she’s perfectly content with that, until—

crunch.

the unmistakable sound of tires rolling over gravel outside.

dean freezes, his mouth still half-open against hers. “shit,” he mutters, pulling back abruptly, his eyes wide as he listens. another crunch. a deep rumble. “oh my god, it’s bobby.”

mallory blinks, disoriented, her lips still kiss-swollen. “you’re joking.”

“i’m not joking.” dean’s already pulling back, his hands frantically shoving her off his lap as the panic sets in. “he’s here, he’s here—”

“oh, for fuck’s sake. cockblocker,” mallory mutters, yanking herself off him, her hair mussed, her jeans rumpled from being practically glued to his lap for the last fifteen minutes.

“hide in the coat closet,” dean blurts out.

mallory whips her head around, staring at him incredulously. “the coat closet?” she hisses, already on her feet. “dean, it’s twenty degrees out what do you think the first thing he’s gonna do when he walks in the door is?”

dean stares at her, realization dawning like a slap to the face. “…put his jacket away.”

“yes, dumbass,” she snaps, scrambling to smooth down her hair as she heads toward the kitchen instead.

“okay, well—where are you going?”

“the kitchen,” she says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“the kitchen?” dean’s still half on the couch, still rumpled and pink-cheeked and clearly trying to figure out how to get his dick to calm down.

“yeah. i’m looking for—i don’t know—orange juice or something. cover story, dean. keep up.”

“that’s a terrible cover story.”

“oh, and the coat closet was brilliant?”

before he can snap back, the sound of bobby’s keys jingling in the door makes them both freeze. shitshitshit. mallory doesn’t hesitate, yanking open the fridge door with an air of complete casualness, eyes fixed on the shelf like she’s deeply invested in its contents. dean, meanwhile, grabs the nearest pillow and yanks it into his lap, his hand clamping down over it like his life depends on it. his other hand snatches a book from the coffee table — some thick, dusty thing on demon lore — and he flips it open, forcing his face into a mask of laid-back boredom.

but the problem is he’s still flushed. his hair’s a mess. his chest is still rising and falling too fast from the intensity of what they were just doing. and worst of all—he still feels it pressing insistently against his zipper, hence the death grip on the pillow.

mallory, cool as ever, glances over her shoulder at him and immediately clocks it. her mouth twitches. “seriously? the pillow on the lap, dean?” she whisper-hisses, one hand casually smoothing her hair down. “could you be any more obvious?”

“oh, i’m sorry,” he whisper-snaps. “would you rather i just let him walk in and see it?”

“you could at least pretend to read the book, genius.”

“i am pretending,” dean grits, eyes glued to the page but clearly not processing a single word. “what the hell are you doing over there anyway?”

“looking for orange juice.”

“there is no orange juice, mal.”

“he doesn’t know that.” she straightens up, casually pushing the fridge door closed and running a hand through her hair like she hadn’t just spent the last fifteen minutes glued to his lap. “look alive, romeo.”

the front door swings open. “anybody home?”

dean forces his mouth into a neutral line, his eyes glued to the book like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever read. “yeah, bobby! in here!”

mallory bites her lip, barely suppressing a laugh.

bobby stomps in, shrugging off his jacket with a grunt. his eyes flick briefly toward dean — sprawled out on the couch, book in one hand, pillow very firmly in his lap — then toward mallory, who’s now rummaging through the pantry like she’s in desperate need of a snack.

“you two doin’ somethin’?” bobby asks, his tone suspicious but casual.

“nope,” mallory says easily, closing the refrigerator door and turning toward him with a neutral expression.

“right.” bobby squints at dean. “you readin’ somethin’ there, sport?”

dean doesn’t even blink. “yeah. demon lore. real interesting stuff.”

mallory, entirely unbothered, leans her hip against the counter, crossing her arms. “how was it?”

“cold.” bobby hangs his coat up, his gaze flicking toward them again — but here’s the thing. their confidence is so unshakable that it’s genuinely disarming. mallory looks like she’s been standing there for hours, cool and composed, and dean — despite the very obvious pillow situation — looks just relaxed enough to make it seem like he was the one who suggested she go find a snack. the combination of their synchronized ease is enough to immediately throw bobby off the scent.

“huh,” bobby grunts finally. “well. guess i’ll go unload the truck.”

mallory smiles politely. “need a hand?”

“nah. you two just keep… hangin’ out,” he mutters, turning toward the door.

the second the door shuts, dean lets out a massive breath of relief, his grip on the pillow finally loosening. “holy shit, that was close.”

mallory just laughs, crossing the room toward him, and without hesitation, she plucks the book from his hands. “you weren’t even reading,” she smirks, flipping it around to reveal it was upside down the entire time and smacking him with the old tome, a puff of dust coming out of it.

“yeah, well, excuse me for trying to hide the raging boner you left me with.”

she laughs harder, reaching out and yanking the pillow away too. sure enough, there it is, straining against his jeans, and dean lets out a pitiful groan of embarrassment.

“oh my god,” mallory snickers, doubling over. “you—oh my god, you could’ve just crossed your legs or something—”

“you think i didn’t try that?” dean huffs. “jesus christ, mal, you can’t do that to me right before bobby walks in—”

“me? you’re the one who grabbed my ass first!”

“i was being affectionate!”

“you were being horny,” she laughs, and then — because she has no mercy — she drops herself right back into his lap, slow and deliberate, grinning wickedly when he lets out a strangled grunt — half protest, half something else entirely.

“mal — can you not? i’m actually in distress here.” he huffs, but there’s no real bite to it.

“relax,” she grins, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “bobby’s never gonna catch us. not with how good we are at playing it cool.”

dean groans, letting his head fall back against the couch. “yeah. real cool, mal. real cool.”

“i know, now get upstairs and take care of that.” she hums, dragging her fingertip up his thigh tantalizingly.

dean groans again, scrubbing a hand over his face. “jesus, you’re evil.”

mallory grins, unbothered. “and you love it.”

“against my better judgment,” he mutters, but his hands are already gripping her hips again, like he can’t help himself.

before things can spiral right back into dangerous territory, the sound of bobby’s boots crunching outside snaps dean back to reality. “okay, okay, i’m going,” he huffs, lifting mallory off his lap and onto the couch beside him. he stands, adjusting his jeans with a wince. “but you owe me for this.”

mallory tilts her head, giving him a slow, teasing once-over, reaching to smack his ass. “oh, i’ll make it up to you. run along now.”

dean freezes for half a second, eyes darkening, but then bobby’s voice carries from outside, and he groans in frustration, running a hand through his hair before booking it upstairs.

mallory watches him go, utterly pleased with herself. she stretches out on the couch, still grinning, just as bobby walks back in, dusting off his hands.

he gives her a look. “where’d the boy run off to?”

she shrugs, expression perfectly neutral. “said he needed a shower.”

bobby narrows his eyes, but mallory only smiles sweetly, reaching for the remote like she hasn’t just been thoroughly entangled with dean for the last half hour.

bobby sighs, muttering something under his breath about damn kids again before shaking his head and heading for the kitchen.

mallory just smirks, already counting down the minutes before she can slip upstairs and really make it up to him.

it’s late now, maybe three in the morning when dean comes back to her room, fresh out of the shower, having donned dark blue pajama pants and black calvin kleins that were just barely visible over the top of his pants. she’s laying on her front, fast asleep, one arm draped off the bed lazily. dean crawls onto the bed, hypnotized by the way the pale moonlight shone into her room, highlighting her tanned skin. she’d kicked down the covers, the warm july breeze blowing through the open window.

he smiles at the sight of her in nothing but one of his shirts and black and maroon panties, his eyes trained on the expanse of smooth skin. her legs, the curve of her ass, the glimpse of her waist and dip of her spine.

he couldn’t help himself, leaning down to kiss the back of her knee, trailing up the back of her plush thigh and to her ass, smirking to himself before biting down on the fat of it.

“are you biting my ass?” she mumbles, not even stirring, her voice low but tinged with amusement.

dean freezes for a moment, his grin spreading wider despite himself. he’d been trying to keep it quiet, but the smirk on his face grows impossibly cocky at the sound of her voice — still half asleep, still unbothered.

“just making sure you’re still breathing,” he murmurs, his voice rough from the late hour, fingers brushing over her skin in slow, deliberate movements. “didn’t know if you’d fainted from my charm yet.”

her lips twitch in a smile even though her eyes remain closed, and she shifts slightly, not quite waking up but clearly aware of what he’s up to.

“uh-huh,” she hums, rolling over slightly, her body pressing up into his as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “sure, dean. that’s totally what you were doing.”

he lets out a quiet laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to the curve of her hip, his hand skimming up to the soft skin of her stomach.

“i’m an expert,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss against her cheek. “just thought i’d show a little appreciation for my favorite ass.”

“gee, i’m flattered.” she snickered lazily.

he chuckles, the sound low and warm in the quiet room. he shifts closer, his lips brushing over her cheek before moving to her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “you should be, sweetheart. i don’t give that kind of attention to just anyone.”

“uh-huh,” she hums again, her voice still heavy with sleep, but there’s an undeniable tease behind it. “i’ll be sure to send you a thank-you card.”

dean’s lips curve into a smile at that, the corners of his mouth tugging upward with the familiar mix of affection and mischief. he presses a kiss to her jaw, his hand sliding across her waist as he pulls her closer, the heat of her body making him feel like he could stay there forever.

“don’t think you need to,” he murmurs, the words slipping from his mouth with a kind of quiet confidence. “i’m good with just this.”

she shifts a little, her arm moving to drape over his chest, pulling him even closer, the rhythm of their breaths syncing as she settles back into the warmth of his embrace. the moonlight falls soft on their tangled forms, a quiet peace settling over them in the stillness of the night.

“yeah, well, i’ll still send one anyway,” she teases, her voice turning drowsy, the weight of sleep pulling her back down. “you deserve it.”

dean grins to himself, resting his chin on the top of her head as he tightens his hold around her. “you sure know how to make a guy feel special.” he presses a kiss to the top of her hair, letting the silence wrap around them like a blanket. in the stillness, he can’t help but feel like everything is exactly where it’s supposed to be.

[dmercer91]

relationship headcanons, sc26

there will be no sleeping on shea on my watch

i have some luke hcs coming early next week!! thank you to people who have requested and are being patient w me

starting off as friends and he’s constantly flirting with you (notably very badly) so you flirt back harmlessly

it’s just jokes until someone else does it with you and he’s like 😟 ok wait was i joking?? (he wasn’t)

he asks you out by throwing you a puck with the question

you weren’t the one who originally caught it so that was a very awkward moment, not his proudest for sure

being a little taller than him and everyone giving him a hard time about it so you start wearing your converse more often rather than boots or anything that makes you taller

you know they’re not trying to be mean to you cause you’re all friends but you feel bad for seamus

he’s dramatic about it when he notices cause you’re trying to find flat shoes that go with an outfit and he’s seen you wear the same thing with boots before

“you haven’t worn your docs in forever, baby. they’d look good with that”

“yeah but they make me like over six feet tall, shea” “… yeah? you used to love them,”

a long time of awkward silence and even more awkward eye contact ensues and he asks if you don’t like / feel embarrassed being evidently taller than him

“what? no!” “then wha-“

and then rutger comes through the door scrolling on his phone completely unaware of everything and seamus raises an eyebrow while both of you eye him walking away

“put the boots on, y/n,”

he comes into whatever function you’re going to with his arm around your shoulders and when ethan starts to say something seamus flips his hat around and slaps it down so it hits him in the nose

everyone who was there kinda got the hint after that

karaoke nights.

he cannot sing for the life of him but you’re having the time of your life so he will belt any song you pick and spin you around

sometimes he won’t even know the song and he’s honestly just there to be your personal hype man

you guys keep the playful friendship banter you had while you’d been just friends

you’ll be in bed about to fall asleep and all of the sudden he slaps you up the back of the head and you’re wide awake

“take out your contacts, dumbass. gonna go blind one of these days i swear”

you’ll do the same for him if he’s about to pass out on you and you know he hasn’t set an alarm or something

dorms are a pain in the ass when you want some peace and quiet so you’ll go to sophomore house and he’ll wait outside while you go in

“can i use one of your rooms? the dorms are so loud my door is vibrating,”

they whine and complain until mark points at dylan, since luke is in jersey and ‘he’s had it too easy for too long’

“fine. don’t touch anything,”

“thanks, duker, we’ll be quiet,” “who is we?”

you grin and walk towards the door, quickly pulling seamus in by his wrist and making a run for it

he runs after you but you’ve locked his door and tucked a chair under the knob before he gets to you

he tries to unlock the door only to realize the chair was there

he pounded on the door and yelled “use luke’s bed, at least,”

by the looks of the bedside table, holding a picture of dylan’s family, you most certainly did not use luke’s bed.

you were banned from asking to use their rooms to study until finals when seamus found you trying to study with music blaring in your ears cause dorms were too loud

so he essentially brought you over there and told mackie that you were using his room and he had no choice

during the summer you guys will take the boat and just sit in the middle of the lake cuddling under the sun

you’ve fallen asleep there and when you woke up there was a you shaped tan line on shea cause he burnt

his excuse for not having moved you was that you looked too comfortable and he hadn’t wanted to wake you

“you’re the cutest, sappiest dumbass i’ve ever met, you know that?”

you used aloe vera later that night to help with the sting and now you’re convinced he’s avoiding sunscreen on purpose so you’ll give him a shoulder massage

if you’re by a pool or the lake he is the only one who’s allowed to throw you in cause you trust that he understands when you mean no and when you’re feigning annoyance

he is the best enforcer of that rule cause luca tried to throw you in the lake one weekend and you were holding onto him so aggressively that he put you down to make sure you actually knew how to swim

you sprinted away the second your feet hit the ground and none of them had ever seen you run so fast

shea had been inside and when he came out everyone was like.. can she swim?

his face fell and he left to go find you, and you were by the patio taking whoever’s phones you could find

“what are you doing?” “making their phones collateral, why,”

“they’re not gonna throw you in, i promise”

you went back and were still hugging a pile of phones to your chest.

safe to say shea had explained for you and luca felt like an asshole so you hugged him and coined him your karaoke partner for the night as a way of saying he was ok

you force seamus to learn how to take care of his hair cause it looks so good when it’s not dead and sticking up

he agreed under the stipulation that you’d give him scalp massages and put in hair masks for him / do them together cause he’s a huge sap and likes the way it feels

when you guys cuddle there is literally no position you haven’t ended up in

you’ll wake up and he’s on top of you, or you’re on top of him, or you’re both somehow on top of each other and you don’t know who’s limbs are where anymore

one time you woke up upside down on the bed, like your feet had been at the pillows

other times you don’t move at all, it’s become a fun guessing game

he likes to facetime on nights when you’re apart, especially when he’s falling asleep cause he’s so used to you being with him

once he signs his elc, you slowly transition your life to jersey and you get an apartment together and adopt a cat (he’s absolute chaos and you both would kill for him)

in conclusion seamus casey is my favourite idiot and i will cherish him (and shove him down your throats!) forever

[ashes0909]

hello! my three words would be:

- clothes

- autumn

- marshmallow

and the ship is stucky !

goodluck on the pseudo nanowrimo!! hope u have a great november 🫶🫶

Thank you so much for the prompt! It was so much fun getting back into the swing of writing. If anyone else is interested in sending me 3 words and a ship, I'd love to write more!

~~~~~

Autumn Leaves Paring: Stucky / Rating: T

The chill of early autumn floated in the air but in his layers of thick, scratchy wool, Bucky barely felt any of it. The leaves crinkled under his boots as he walked to the spot he’d discovered shortly after their regiment made camp for the night. The sun still hovered on the horizon, casting a glow through the tree’s golden leaves. 

Bucky had always loved autumn, and here, an ocean away from everything he’d ever known, the war prevailing over everything, autumn still painted the landscape with such a familiarity that he had to take a moment to soak in.

And then “home” continued to follow him when footsteps behind him rustled the leaves; a stride he’d recognize anywhere, even with all the changes the dumbass intentionally injected into his veins. Before Bucky even turned around, he felt Steve’s thick coat land on his shoulders. The heavy weight from a wider chest might be new but the scent of Steve was long ingrained. Bucky almost shook it off, a lecture ready on his lips that Steve might be bigger, heartier now, but he still needed to keep warm. 

But then Steve slid under the coat next to him, wrapping both of them in the woolly warmth.

“You always loved this season,” Steve said as he brushed their shoulders together. “Your ma would bring out hot milk with bits of marshmallow in it--”

“--and we’d sit on the fire escape and take bets on what leaves would fall to the floor the fastest--”

“--from that one maple tree in the middle of the sidewalk.”

“It’s a good tree,” Steve finished their joint memory, plucking the ending right from Bucky’s mind like he always seemed to do. Bucky wondered if that New York maple would still be there, after the war. If they’d both survive to see it again, or if these leaves falling on a foreign tree would be the last they ever experienced together.

The thought didn’t sullen Bucky’s mood. Like many things in wartime, he just took a deep breath and appreciated the moment.

Little did he know that the next month, he’d fall from a train and everything would change.

The decades fell like leaves, colored blood red then deathly brown. Winter overtook autumn, and somehow, a century later, Bucky stood in front of that same New York maple tree. 

He watched from the sidewalk, ignoring the bustle of those walking by, and took in the golden hues of the leaves forever changing. It didn’t take long before a familiar stride broke through the rest, and Bucky’s breath caught until he felt the heavy weight of a coat wrapped around his shoulders.

“Hot chocolate with marshmallows?” Steve asked, handing over the warm to-go cup, a matching one in his own hands.

“I don’t even want to know what superpowers you used, to get these cups here and to put a coat over my shoulders.”

Steve smiled and looked towards the tree, he bumped their shoulders together before he replied, “The timeless kind.”

[getindumdums]

ROTTMNT X TMNT- How to write around Post-Movie Rise being overpowered

Want to write a rottmnt meet tmnt fic? Well here’s some ideas on how you can write the rise crew with all their powers but still include your 87/03/12 bros in the fight!

1. The Rise Crew are dumbasses.

When you’re turtles that fall for ‘teetlze’, there may be a plan or two where they fall for the silliest of things. Like even a 87 shredder plan right along with the 87 turtles. Or they crave fun and get in a little trouble. Like. IDK. They were doing stunts and crashed into tar pits. Got trapped in the Turtle Tank. Got distracted and are trying to get a weapon that got lodged into concrete/a building out. Or a skateboard out of a tree, and are making the situation way over complicated. Get creative.

Maybe they forgot a mission, or got lost because of a silly reason. Like, they wrestled and fell off a cliff. Maybe down a river. Make Leo get hit too hard and comidically woozy. (Or a tranq dart.) Yeaaaahhhh surrrre. I’ll teleport you guysss… *teleports to France.

Maybe they said they’d meet separately at the beach/fun place. But the 87/03/12 crew get attacked and the Rise crew is just chilling wondering where they’re at. “Oh no! They can’t hear them! The music’s blasting too loud!”

2. The Rise turtles are loud.

Sure they can sneak, but will they? Plus things like to explode after the sneaking. (03/12 tmnt are kind of like this too honestly.) Point is maybe they’re like “All in favor of leaving (The Mad dogs) team behind say Aye.” “Aye.” For a stealth mission. Could add 03/12 Raph wanting to include Mikey in that.

They could be put on ‘support’. Rise Leo’s teleporting could leave to a last second save, Rise Donnie’s pods too (he would probably put trackers in his counterparts as soon as he could, also blood samples). Rise Raph could prevent the building the others are inside from collapsing. Actually all of the Rise crew could catch them from falling to their deaths or hold back a giant enemy’s strike.

3. Put out of Commission.

There’s a couple ways the Rise Crew could get put out of commission that isn’t getting hit too hard. Being temporarily blinded by tear gas (they jumped in first), allowing them to still fight but being the ones reliant on whoever they’re with. Tranquilizers would incapacitate them for like an hour or less. Similarly, getting poisoned with a lethal dose that’d kill the other teams. The way Draxum made them allowing these toxins to be less lethal to them. Magical traps, magic/alien restraints, or captured with the highest/most durable alien tech could also get interesting.

4. Let the Rise Crew take on the Big threats.

Like on how Rise Raph will act like a shield for his bros by taking on the enemies his size, the Rise crew’s focus can be set towards the larger than a building enemies, like (12) Traaq and Granitor, (03) Nano, etc. They could defeat/distract a shredder, attack a technodrome, or handle a way too large foot/Kraang army Leatherhead/03 Triceraton style while the 03/12 team handle the other stuff. Or worse, the Rise crew could fight some of THEIR old enemies.

As strong as the Rise crew are, both 03 and 12 have 12/13 tech/steel that’s very strong and durable. And both are used to defeating threats ‘way out of their league’. The 87 turtles can cleave through ‘technodrome’ mechs like butter. Just something to consider.

5. They are the Big Threat

I’m not the biggest fan of feral Rise. They lean more violent/murdery than in character and small bruising. I love comedy, shenanigans. But that doesn’t mean the Rise crew being brainwashed isn’t a good plot line where the other alternate brothers must save them. From 12’s parasitic wasps, neck brainwashing devices, to 03’s utrom/Baxter Stockman tech: duplicate robots looking/fighting like them, simulations turned violent, you can get a couple ideas from all the shows. Or how about misunderstandings? 03 doesn’t have Krang, but peaceful utroms. The Rise crew might start fighting before learning from 03 crew or the Utroms themselves that they are not a threat.

Bonus, Conflict

I think the 03 and 12 bros might see the Rise crew as another 87 initially. They’re all silly, funny guys that like to dance and party. Including Funny One Donnie. The 87 team and Rise would get along great, thick as (pizza) thieves. Have a way too strong enemy? Well maybe the Rise crew is 87’s plot armor while they fight side by side. 03 would be most responsible (excluding Mikey), and be quick to warm up to the Rise crew. And be willing to train with them, give them advice/lectures. 03 Raph would like Donnie, 03 Leo would like Raph for sure.

It’s the 12 crew that I think they would have the most conflict with, (except Mikey). Instead Rise Mikey kicks him (and 12 Leo, and the 87 crew) violently out of the kitchen, and would just be the most reasonable Mikey. Rise Leo would lead/ partake in shenanigans with anyone willing and switch like a lamp on (at least serious) missions.

The Rise crew are used to listening to Raph, they trust Raph. Maybe they trust 87/03/12 Raph. It’s a bad idea. Maybe Rise Donnie wants to do comically- villain lethal options instead or just argue against the Leo’s’ plans. Like a Raph. Maybe he fist fights 12 Raph. But they become friends after.

Maybe Rise Leo wants to have fun. Maybe he claims to be the cool Leo while secretly wanting to impress the other Leos but 12 Leo hates him. Maybe Donnie claims he’s the cool Donnie but 12 Donnie hates him. Really hates him, with a seething jealousy. Maybe 12 Donnie is plotting murder 12 Casey style. Maybe Rise Donnie loves playing around with weapons with 03 Raph and destroying things with 12/03 Raph.

I just actually like the idea of each of the Rise turtle not getting along with their 12 counterparts. Instead Rise Leo gets along with 12 Mikey via pranks (and Dimension X and how they feel about their place in their team). Maybe 03 Mikey too. Rise Raph gets along great with the the Leos (and Splinter?), leadership and training. Donnie would get along great with the Raphs. I think he and 12 Raph would both think 03 Raph is SUPER cool. And Rise Mikey would get along well with the Donnies being the ‘reasonable’ one of the Rise crew. Rise Mikey I believe helps his Donnie in the lab, steady hands. And probably knows the classical music composers, etc. Maybe Mystic Mike, practicing his magic, is great at meditation, magic, and gets great talks with Splinter. Rise Mikey could finally give 03 Don some therapy. …And maybe any of the other traumatized turtles.

Transversing the multiverse

Is actually easy. Maybe let it be. They could go back and forth, and the real conflict can be the enemies they face/are investigating.

87 has a device from the 12 crossover, and that can just built a device no sweat. 03 still probably has their device from Turtles Forever (unless 87 has it?). 03 has the Daimyo from their battle nexus that can travel dimensions with his staff. 12 has Krang portals. 12 had a magic wand they lost. The Rise crew has Leo and Mikey’s portals and their Donnie. If the others could create bridges so can Rise D. He has the most advanced tech, a comedic-looney tunes logic/4th wall breaking touch like 87, and has pictures of 12 and 87 on his conspiracy board. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. sent a toaster back in time, I’m convinced that Donnie had drafts for a time machine already but the Kaang invasion left alternate-future him with a lack of resources Cass-Apocalypse style, those drafts destroyed with the lair, and/or new prototypes destroyed. Future him Raph a robot body like 12 Don did to himself before something happened that didn’t allow Rise D to make one/be transferred into one for himself. There’s no way Rise Donnie is taking more time to make a portal gun longer than a Turtles Forever movie.

[bratanimus]

33. you are such a nerd

@khaleesa, thank you for this awesome prompt! It was a lot of fun to write. And thanks to the lovely @pipergirl17 for betaing! I hope to work on the other prompts in my Ask box soon.

~*~

Hoard

Eddie sprawled on his stomach across Chrissy’s white eyelet comforter and peered over the edge of the bed, like the invisible Bilbo peeping at Smaug. All around herself, his girlfriend (someday he would stop italicizing that word in his mind, but today was not that day) had spread a veritable dragon’s hoard of paper, folders, notebooks, flashcards, pencil cases, and pens of all colors on the pink shag carpet. 

Sitting cross-legged in her running sweats, framed in a patch of afternoon sunlight, Chrissy looked luminous as she carefully pried open the lid of a box of new pencils as if it were a treasure chest.

“Tell me again,” Eddie said.

He pushed up the long sleeves of his T-shirt and rested his chin on the heels of both hands in what he hoped was a coquettish and distracting manner, his jean-clad legs bent and kicking his socked feet behind him like he was at an honest-to-god Annette Funicello pajama party. 

“Why are you doing this, exactly?”

Chrissy gave him the briefest of eye rolls, because she’d already started to explain on their way upstairs…though she’d been interrupted when they’d passed the Cunningham household’s actual dragon, who’d bellowed after them, “Door stays open!” Eddie could almost feel the mistrust billowing like acrid steam from Laura’s sewing room. Well, the old reptile would get used to him sooner or later. Or not. 

“Make fun all you want,” Chrissy huffed (oh, she was cute when she was miffed at him, and maybe he shouldn’t rile her up, but he was a dumbass still getting used to having her undivided attention, so sue him if he occasionally resorted to his old habits of poking and prodding and other sorts of ill-advised provocation, and anyway, she didn’t seem to mind). “But it’s the end of spring break.”

With that, Chrissy pinned him with a friendly glare, as if a reminder of the calendar date should’ve made everything crystal clear. 

Smirk (and dimples) still firmly in place, she broke the eraser off one of those brand new pencils, an unexpected act of violence that made Eddie’s eyebrows shoot upward. She tossed the nub into the flowery little trash can under her desk. Then she grabbed a fat, pink, arrowhead-shaped cap eraser from a pile of them and twisted it onto the top of the pencil. 

“Ah, I see,” said Eddie, not seeing at all. 

Chrissy only laughed at his confused expression, so he lay flat on his chest, chin on the bed’s edge, letting his arms dangle so he could fiddle with the felt tip pens scattered on the carpet. He stole a glance at Chrissy and pondered why one eraser might be somehow inherently better than another, so much so that she had to amputate and reattach, like some nerdy bookworm version of Mary Shelley.

“School starts back in a couple of days, right?” Chrissy went on as she attacked the next pencil.

“Uh-huh.” 

Eddie shoved aside her big green binder and slid his fingertips along the pens as he lined them up, orange and purple and red and blue—

Bonk! Another brand new nub landed in the trash can, and another cap eraser got reamed by a wooden writing instrument.

“I always reorganize my school supplies after fall break, Christmas break, and spring break. It helps me stay focused.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he bullshitted, as if he had any idea about systems for focusing.

He arranged the pens according to the colors of the rainbow, remembering Roy G. Biv, the acronym his seventh grade art teacher had taught for the progression of colors. But Chrissy owned way more than the seven basic shades here. There were at least two dozen. Did she carry these to school every day in a pencil case, a small treasure trove in her pink backpack?

“I love school supplies,” she gushed, continuing her mutilation of the pristine set of Ticonderogas, popping off a dozen heads one by one and replacing them with bloated Frankenstein ones.

He knew she had a thing about control, and Eddie had seen her do her fair share of feverish erasing in the two classes they shared this year. But were twelve cap erasers really necessary?

Messing with the felt tips on the floor, he must’ve asked that last bit out loud, because Chrissy said tightly, “Oh, you know. Just in case I need to correct a lot.”

Oops. He’d touched a nerve. He needed a distraction.

“I bet you pack five extra pairs of underwear for every overnight trip,” he mused, “just in case you have a blowout.”

“Ew!” she squealed.

An eraser nub hit him square between the eyes, which made him flinch and blink. 

“Seriously, Eddie.  Are blowouts something I should worry about?”

“Oh, I dunno. Hang around with me long enough—”

A larger arrowhead eraser smacked him on the cheek. He caught it before it fell off the bed, stuck it on his pinky, and made it speak over Chrissy’s giggles.

“Look, lady,” he Muppet-squeaked, “you have an eraser problem. And possibly an underwear problem. You need help!”

Chrissy pointed to his pinky. “Speak not to me, nor my Trapper Keeper, ever again. You’re just jealous of my loot.” 

“I have absolutely no use for dragon-guarded treasures,” Eddie murmured, quoting Tolkien as he slipped the eraser from his pinky and laid it reverently in Chrissy’s outstretched hand, “and the whole lot could stay here for ever, if only I could wake up and find this beastly tunnel was my own front-hall at home.”

Watching him, Chrissy’s eyes glimmered, prettier than any gemstones. His cheeks warmed. 

It was something to be looked at by her, wasn’t it? To be admired? He dropped his gaze back down to the pens he was arranging and hoped his face wasn’t too red.

“That’s it.” The words were barely a breath.

Eddie’s gaze rose again to find Chrissy staring down at her hoard of loot, hands upturned helplessly on her knees, the arrowhead eraser still in the center of her palm like the One Ring.

He tried to match her hushed tone. “What?”

“That’s how I feel. All the time. This house. All my things. It’s just…stuff.”

And she had no other home but this beastly one.

Eddie's heart pinched.

“Come up here,” he said.

She did, lying on her stomach next to him, chin resting on her folded arms as she watched him arrange the felt tips into different configurations with one hand. Gravity made his veins bulge a little; they looked knobbly and greenish-blue in the bright light from her window. His hand could almost be a pale dragon skittering over its mountain of treasure.

He didn’t know what to say, because he couldn’t say what he wanted to.

Come away with me. Let me be your treasure. You are already mine.

Leaning into her with one shoulder, he reached awkwardly into his front pocket and scrounged for the ever-present handful of mismatched polyhedral die, which he tossed to the floor, a field of shimmering stars around what he’d written across the landscape of her Pepto-Bismol carpet.

“Wait.” Chrissy’s head lifted from her forearms. She blew her bangs out of her eyes. “Does that say—”

It did indeed. Eddie had arranged her plethora of pens to read 

NERD

“You are such a nerd,” he whispered, creasing his brow and dipping his chin for emphasis. He wondered if she could somehow read on his face what he was really thinking.

Chrissy looked back at him and smiled like he’d just placed a crown on her head. He swallowed. Maybe she could read his thoughts. Eddie tucked her lovely smile away into his own mental hoard, for safekeeping.

“Takes one to know one,” she said, cutting the inhalation for his retort short with a kiss.

He nodded his fervent agreement until her widening grin made further kissing more difficult, but not impossible.

The eraser lay forgotten on the floor with the rest of the hoard. 

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Guardian - Chapter 6/6

Someetimes you wake up expecting nothing to be different, and suddenly everything is.

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Janus woke up and immediately registered various aches in his body. His neck hurt, his arm was numb and his back hurt a little. He supposed that was the consequence of falling asleep sat up on the sofa as he had the night before. 

He groaned softly as he tried to stretch, only to find that his numb arm was in fact pinned down by something. With that realisation came the knowledge of a weight in his lap too. What was going on?

With his free arm he reached to rub his eyes and open them, only to be met with an irritated sleepy sound from his left. Janus looked down quickly to see Remus looking up at him - now a fully grown adult once more. He supposed Remus was possibly the only side he wouldn’t be surprised to see remaining next to him. 

“Apologies,” Janus mumbled, completely insincere as he yawned and covered his mouth. 

Remus shrugged before turning and yelling, “Guys- He’s up!!”

Jerking in surprise, Janus glanced around, especially when the weight in his lap jumped up and scrambled away like a startled cat at the loud yell - ah, it was Virgil - wait.

Janus, now fully awake, stared in shock at Virgil, who was breathing heavily halfway across the room and glaring at Remus, a blanket around his shoulders. Had… Virgil been willingly sleeping on his lap? He definitely hadn’t been there as a kid when they’d gone to sleep, Patton had taken that spot, Patton who was no longer present, neither was Logan. Which… made sense, upsettingly, they probably wouldn’t want to be around him after they woke up. 

Still, why Virgil had been sleeping in his lap was still very much a mystery. 

“Virgil dear,” Janus said gently, “It’s okay, just Remus being Remus.”

“Sorry Vee,” Remus shrugged, “Pat told me to yell when he woke up, so I did.”

“I didn’t mean it literally, kiddo,” Patton said, emerging from the kitchen carrying a tray, “Good morning Janus!”

“Good… morning?” Janus said, even more confused as Patton placed down the tray on the coffee table, on which sat a plate with absolutely perfect looking eggs and toast as well as a cup of one of Janus’ favourite herbal teas. What the fuck.

“L and I made you breakfast, as a way to say uh, thank you, for looking after us all yesterday,” Patton explained, “I know we were a bit of a handful…”

So they remembered, at least, there was that, but it still didn’t explain their behaviour now. Why weren’t they avoiding him or shooing him off like normal? It didn’t make any sense. 

“Budge up, Princey,” Virgil grumbled as he finally made his way back to the couch. Janus glanced over only to realise that the warmth against his side trapping his right arm was in fact Roman, who seemed to somehow still be asleep even after Remus’ yell. In the end, Virgil just sat with his lags across both Roman and Janus’ laps, pulling out his phone. 

“Should we um-” Janus said, uncharacteristically hesitant in the face of their unfamiliar behaviour, “Move Roman before he wakes up? I’m sure he’d be overjoyed to wake up next to me like this…?”

Virgil seemed to catch the lie Janus had tried to make obvious and was about to say something when Patton cut in instead. 

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, he chose to fall asleep next to you afterall,” Patton said brightly, “Even if we didn’t remember being adults yesterday, we still knew you, Kiddo, and I’ll admit, I was hesitant to come to you - I had to since you were the only one of us who was an adult, but you proved yourself, at least in my eyes.”

“I… did?”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Virgil said, shaking his head, “You’re… not awful, or, whatever, thanks for looking after Princey.”

The thanks for looking after Virgil himself went unspoken, as it always had when they had lived together too. Janus heard it though, and when he placed his hand on Virgil’s calf the anxious side didn’t flinch, just glanced up and then looked down at his phone in an attempt to try and hide the fond expression that was suddenly on his face. 

“You should eat your breakfast,” Came Logan’s voice, just before the logical side came into Janus’ line of sight, “Before it gets cold.”

“Have you all eaten?” Janus asked as he ever so carefully pried his arm from underneath Roman, trying to be careful not to wake him up as he reached for the tray, placing it on top of Virgil’s legs so he could eat his food. 

“Patton and I have both eaten breakfast already, Remus and Virgil, your food is ready for you to eat when you want it, as is Roman’s when he wakes up, we decided to let all of you wake up naturally after the eventful day we had yesterday,” Logan explained, pulling out the book he had been reading the day before to finish it. Janus was surprised to see Logan continue to read what he could finally make out as a dystopian YA novel, he wouldn’t have thought it was Logan’s ‘thing’, but he supposed he could read whatever he liked. 

“You two should get breakfast,” Janus told Remus and Virgil. Remus stuck his tongue out at him, before headbutting Janus’ upper arm and staying there. Virgil just made a vague gesture to where Janus was using his legs as a table and went back to scrolling through his phone. Patton giggled, “Will you two eat if I bring your food over here too?”

“Sure!” Remus chirped, at the same time Virgil gave a noncommittal “You don’t have to-”

“I think you should eat something, my dear,” Janus told Virgil, glancing up at Patton, who smiled and gave a thumbs up before hurrying off to the kitchen. Moments later, he returned carrying two plates, one of which he passed to Remus - who immediately began to scoff down the food - and the other to Virgil, who was a lot calmer about picking at his toast, Janus couldn’t help but smile. 

“I… totally expected you all to be like this when you woke up,” Janus says eventually when the room had been silent for too long.

“What?” Virgil asked, before swallowing his mouthful, “You expected us to what - send you back to the dark side or something? You were accepted like, months ago, honestly it’s time we all started fucking acting like it.”

Janus was, honestly, rendered speechless by that, and he found himself unable to find something coherent to say for almost a whole minute, “I- what?”

“We want you around, Janus,” Logan said, “And yesterday just proved to us all that you have our best interests in mind, as well as your own, of course, but you do not intend to hurt us.”

“Of course not,” Janus rolled his eyes, “I’m selfish, I’m not an asshole.”

“Could’a fooled me,” Virgil grumbles.

“Virge,” Patton said, shaking his head with a fond sigh, “What we’re trying to say, is that we haven’t been treating you like you’re one of us, and we need to try and change that, you’ve shown that you’re willing to meet us in the middle with that after yesterday, so… I think we all need to stop trying so hard to push you away.”

Janus was feeling just about ready to cry when Roman finally shifted at his side, groaning softly before yawning with a stretch, blinking his eyes open to look around all of them before focusing on Janus’ face. He let out a small huff, before shifting to rest his head on Janus’ shoulder and wrapping an arm around his waist before relaxing again to go back to sleep. 

Normally, Janus avoided public displays of emotion like the plague, but right now he couldn’t help getting choked up. He quickly wiped away a forming tear and immediately found the tray lifted from his lap as Remus too hugged him from the other side. Logan walked over and patted him on the knee while Patton came over to kiss his forehead.

“It’ll be okay, kiddo,” Patton said softly, “You can cry, we’ve got you."

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Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmealdaydreams @littlerat2 @goldnskyart @virgeandhis-pocket-protector @amateurmasksmith (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!

[bananaactivity]

Update if I spelt something wrong it could have changed the whole post I just sent you 😭 Bree would be 17 and Jessie would be 18 I think i accidentally typed 19 (if I didn't this is embarrassing)

Yah that is embarrassing lmao,

I’ll answer your og ask with some art when I have some time to draw but rn I’m thinking about my otp crack ship (KARCUS my beloved)

I think it’s funny to ship characters together that are similar stereotypes.

One I was just thinking about today was Kirby Buckets and Fletcher Quimby (from Ant Farm) but like a platonic friendship….

DO YOU SEE THE VISION PLS

They’re both artists but there also both dumbasses, I think it be hilarious if Kirby was drawing some dumb shit and shows Fletcher to like… art kid flex on him but Fletcher shows him a life sized statue he sculpted of Chyna as well as a oil panting of Olive that looks like a renaissance painting while Kirby is gagged.

(Kirby and Fletcher were my idols back when I was younger I loved seeing characters who were known as the “artist kid” I felt so seen lmao. I hated Kirby’s art style a little but he was still my idol lol)

I wish the LR writers gave Bree as much of personality as Jesse got :( I love Jesse sm. That’s the only reason I had to think before considering this ship. But Bree would think Jesse is a badass as well as being happy to talk to other girls. Jesse would probably push Bree to follow her dreams of exploring the world.

They would both complain about Bob and Luke too ngl. Also complaining about past relationships with boys. I feel like Jessie would like Chase way more then Bree would like her to ( They’re both straight A smarty pants and Chase is strict) and shed call Adam a hunk which would also kinda irk Bree.

That’s her brother EWWW, but we all know if she got a peek at Tony she’d be falling all over bro. Leo would probably joke around with her a lot and then start tweaking cause all the Ross kids won’t leave him alone about his bionics.

Mr Davenport probably already knows the Ross’ ( I heard all rich people know each other or something) that’s probably how Jesse and Bree would meet. Davenport invites The Ross’ to a dinner and they bring their kids and nanny and suggest that the bionic three get invited because their kids want to meet them. Leo comes because he’ll be damned if he gets left out only to regret it because he’s less popular and well known so by extension the other kids feel more comfy bothering the shit out of him.

(Personally it’s hard for me to imagine romantic relationships, it’s so rude of myself to not get them as much as I’d like but they’d probably have fun going to see boy bands and shopping together. I struggled to write the fic for Kai Brewer and Marcus Davenport (karcus) and even then they aren’t romantic, they are assholes)

LOL that means that Remix ( mighty med) and Bailey ( suite life on deck) and Jesse ( Jesse lol) all exist in the same universe… LMFAOOOOOO THIS ALWAYS HAPPENS.

If Kickin it and Labrats exist that means Ryker and Carson and Brody and Chase, Bree and Sloane, Jack and Troy all exist together too… that was a hard one to wrap my head around and nobody even knows who half those people are because Kickin it underused characters so bad.

BUT THIS IS ABOUT JESSE AND BREE.

They seem like they’d be good friends and a good crackship too, I’ll draw um later but someone else needs to write the 20 chapter fic with the background I added cause I’m still struggling on updating the last 10 of my Karcus fic while also rewriting it to fit my new writing style… anyone sees this feel free to steal and write that crack fic

Thanks for reading my yap sesh lol