#usually i'd say fine i'll write on my phone

[daughterofhecata]

.

[pablitogavii]

Hello can you do a Fanfic about Pablo Gavi and the reader are in toxic Relationship but with some smut? Btw no pressure take your time writing 💘💌

They are not in a relationship..yet ;)

Moving in with Pablo Gavi might have been the worst choice of my life. Even though the apartment was in the center, very luxurious and nice, having him as a roommate was the same as having him as a jealous boyfriend sometimes!

"I'm telling you that you're not going out like that!" Pablo was determined laying back in the sofa watching some old Barça game while I was getting ready in my own bedroom.

"And I'm telling you to stop acting like my dad Pablo! Just because we live together doesn't mean you can boss me around!" I yelled back rolling my eyes while messaging his sister. She is the one who suggested I move in with her younger brother so I at least have someone in Barcelona.

"I won't repeat myself, Y/n..you..are..not..going..anywhere" he was now at my door frame checking out my little black dress trying his best to look me in the eyes instead.

"Why do you care what I wear!? Maybe I want some attention tonight!" I said the first thing that came to mind obviously not meaning it..truth be told, I quickly developed a crush on my jealous roommate.

"Whose attention!?" he was quick and I rolled my eyes grabbing my phone but he quickly snatched it from my hands looking at the screen.

"Hey! That's mine! Give it back asshole!" I jumped trying to grab my phon from him but his hand quickly wrapped around my waist holding my down while he looked at my messages with his sister.

"You're dissing me to my sister, bug?" he smirked and I rolled my eyes pulling away and crossing my arms in front of my chest in anger. Pablo gave my phone back when he was satisfied that it was only his sister I was texting.

"Now if you're satisfied, move so I can go"I said about to walk past him but he was still as a statue shaking his head looking down at my little outfit.

"You will get in trouble looking like that at night.." he said more so worried than angry now. I looked him with big eyes using them to my advantage per usual. I quickly learned how to get my way with this man.

"Fine! Do what you want but have me on speed dial!" he said leaving my room and I smiled nodding my head quickly kissing his cheek before leaving for the night.

y.n.bebe

Barcelona, Spain

See ya tonight Barcelona ✨

comments:

juancarlos: aiii mamiiii 🤤

javierbar: i'll search for you in the crowds hermosa

braxtonmall: things I'd do to that body mamiii

gavifans: is Gavi coming???

aurorapaezg: linda💗

y.n.bebe: 💗💗

Pablo just kept scrolling down at the comments of various men saying the most gross and nasty things they would do to me. He was so anxious that he couldn't even pay any more attention to the game so he turned the TV off.

All he could think about is me in that black dress..all alone..with all of those sick people out there. He quickly changed into some fancy clothes texting to ask for my location. I didn't respond cause music was too loud to hear anything, so he called Aurora in the middle of the night.

"Do you know what club she went to Rora!?" he asked and the girl was just waking up from her sleep confused.

"Pablo? Did something happen to Y/n?" she asked

"No! I mean, I don't know! But she shouldn't be out looking like that and alone! It's dangerous Rora! They know she lives with me, so what if someone attacks or kidnaps her!?" he was spirling and Aurora told him to breathe for a moment.

"Seriously, Pablo. You care almost like you're her boyfriend. She's probably fine, why don't you go to sleep?" Aurora said knowing deep down about her brother's crush on me.

"I can't sleep when she's not here...just please tell me where she went!" he said feeling his own heart jump at the words he used. He really cared about me and wished I knew how much.

Meanwhile, the party was getting boring. People were too drunk and everyone started touching random strangers. I was never into that kind of stuff so I decided to call myself an Uber and go home knowing Pablo must be going mental already.

When I turned on my phone, I gulped. Shit! He called me nine times!? Ohh he's probably pissed off right now.

"Pretty girls like you don't need to pay for an Uber, I can drive you home linda" half drunk man walked up to me and I politely said that I was fine.

"What!? You think you too good for anyone but Pablo Gavi!? I have the same car as him, princess..vamos!" he was grabbing my hand now and i panicked speed dialing my emergency contact..Pablo Gavi.

"Y/n! Are you crazy not to answer your phone! Hola!?" Pablo's voice was heard as he was yelling as I tried my best to make him realize I was in trouble.

"Um..I don't want to go with you please leave me alone" I said a bit louder hoping Pablo heard before hanging up the phone.

Since Aurora told him where I was, he was already almost there seeing me in the parking lot pulling away from the guy and quickly braking and rushing outside of the car not caring that he almost cause a car accident.

"Hey hijo de puta! How do you like this, huh!?" he fist punched him and I screamed while he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the car with him before cameras and paparazzi showed up.

"Oh my God Pablo! You won't believe what happened..I.." I was catching my breath trying to talk but he interrupted me rather rudely.

"Callate! We'll talk when we get home!" he said and I gulped looking at his clenched jaw and bloody knuckles..fuck he was pissed off now!

"Come on, let me help you" he said seeing a little bruise on my knee when I fell trying to run and he carried me bridal style onto our shared apartment. I felt my heart beating fast as he sat me down on the sofa grunting a little while inspecting his hand.

"Pablo..I.." I tried again but he shook his head making me shut up.

"Are you really angry with me?" I said sadly but he was in no mood for sentiments. He was scared half to death when he heard my helpless voice on the phone.

"Yes! I am angry with you!" he yelled and I punted curling up in the ball leaving him alone.

"I told you what would happen! Bot Mrs. Independant does anything she wants even if it puts her in trouble!" he was saying it still not looking into my eyes.

"I didn't know that would happen, okay!?" I was angry now too. Why was he scolding me when if I try to be closer to him he pushes me away!?

"What did you think huh!? That you can protect yourself if a guy throws himself at you!?" he said finally looking at me with eyes red from anger.

"Whatever, Pablo! I didn't need your help anyways!" now I was acting out of stubbornness hating the fact that he still looks at me as a child. I tried getting up but he wouldn't let me throwing me on the sofa and hovering above me.

"Oh yeah!? And what would you do if a guy pins you down like this, huh!? Hold your arms above your head? You would fight him off, no?" he was mocking me now and I blushed bright red at the position we were currently in. He was only inches away from my face holding me tightly against the sofa.

"Pablo, let me go!" I said trying to struggle which only made the boy laugh.

"That's all you would do? Please, bug you don't have half of my strenght!" he said and I stopped struggling looking away with a sad face. He was right..he really saved me tonight and I am giving him the attitude again.

"I know what I would do.." I whisper and he leans down turning my face towards his.

"What is that preciosa?" he said looking from my lips to my eyes and I bit my lower lip..fuck it!

"I would call you.." I admit and he smirked nodding his head and leaning further down to capture my lips in a sweet passionate kiss.

"And I would always come..to protect you princesa" he spoke while leaving butterfly kisses down my neck and shoulders while I closed my eyes enjoying the new sensation.

"Mm Pablito?" I said and he raised his head looking me in the eyes.

"Yes mi amor?" he said and I swear something in be broke the moment i heard those words leave his gorgeous lips.

"Are you still angry with me?" I say with a smile and he shakes his head in disbelief shrugging his shoulders in response.

"What if I help you now?" I said moving a little to sit on his lap and he welcomed it curious to what I will do next. I smile leaning forwards to kiss his knuckles and he smiled playing with my hair gently.

"Better mi heroe?" I smile looking up and he smirked nodding his head and leaning down to kiss my lips hungrily.

"Don't ever do something stupid like this again, princesa!?" he said sternly and I blushed nodding my head.

"Now i have all the attention I need at home..from mi novio" I said and he grabbed my neck pulling me a little up before smashing his lips onto mine again.

"How long I wanted to hear you say that mi amor.." he whispered into my lips while we were kissing.

[tfp-is-my-lifeblood-lol]

Tfp Autobots Encountering the Mind-Control Cell Phones from Rescue Bots

(Because it canonically exists in the Alligned continuity, and I'm abusing that knowledge to torment my favorite little meow meows)

I've been wanting to write these headcanons. Might do Decepticons next.

Context for if you haven't seen the Rescue Bots episode "Spell Bound": A human named Madeline Pynch creates mind-control phones that hypnotize both humans and Cybertronians to dig up Blossom Vale (part of Griffin Rock)

Optimus Prime:

-He's the only one who's immune to the phones' power

-Lucky for him, the Matrix of Leadership can protect him from that kind of influence

-Because of that, he'd be the first to discover something isn't right with the humans, and eventually the other Bots when they'd start acting strange.

-He'd notice they're groundbridging to Griffin Rock with no explanation, and that they keep saying the phrase: "The project is the priority."

-Plus, their voices. Sure, they sound normal on the surface, but Optimus is very perceptive, and would pick up on the slight lack of emotion, and artificial tone when they speak.

-Throughout this mess, Optimus mainly confides in Ratchet

"What is going on?" Ratchet would muse, almost awestruck by the strange behavior of the others.

"I am unsure," Optimus would reply. "But I believe something is deeply amiss, old friend."

-Both of them would be struggling to uncover what this mysterious "project" is, and why the other Bots and humans have suddenly become so obsessed with it.

Arcee:

-She's the first Bot that falls under the spell; Jack's the first human to fall under, and he'd infect her

-Jack's responsible, empathetic personality works against him when he finds a golden cellphone abandoned at school.

"Someone must've lost this." He'd say. "I'd...better return it, right? I mean...I'd hate for someone to be freaking out, wondering where their phone is."

"I think they'll be fine without their phone for a couple of hours," Arcee would quip. "Come on, it's go-time. We've gotta get back to base."

-Then it rings

"I'd...better get that." Jack would say.

Arcee would playfully role her eyes and smile. "Alright. We'll go back after you've done your good deed for the day. But make it quick."

-Upon answering the call, Jack's whole body suddenly goes rigid. "The project is the priority."

"Uhh...Jack...?" Arcee would press, nervous about her partner's abrupt shift in demeanor.

-Arcee would vent to Bulkhead. "Something's seriously wrong with Jack," and beg Ratchet for help. "Ratchet, come on. He's gotta be...I don't know, sick, or something, right? He's not acting...human."

-But soon, Jack would attach a phone to her in vehicle mode, and she'd be sucked in as well.

-Arcee's mind control would be subtle. She's naturally stoic, after all. The others might mistake her drone-like behavior for her usual closed-off personality, even when Optimus asks her to go on a mission, and she flatly replies: "...Can't..." Perhaps she's just having a rough day thinking about her lost partners. But suspicions rise when she and Jack disappear to Griffin Rock.

-Even in trance, Arcee maintains her stealth and agility, making her a formidable opponent.

Bulkhead:

-He'd get infected by his human charge, just like Arcee.

-Miko is SUPER suspicious of Jack's strange, zombie-like behavior, so she tracks him down and calls him out on it. She'd assume it's the work of Decepticons.

"Yeah, ok, Jack. You think you can fool me. Come on, dude! You're acting like Megatron barbecued your brain! You're some kind of mind-controlled zombie! But, don't worry, Jack Rabbit! I'll find a way to fix you up. Otherwise, Bulk's gonna bash you into zombie smithereens!"

-Jack would probably have to battle Miko to get her to listen to the call, but eventually, she'd become hypnotized, too.

-Now THAT'S a HUGE red flag for Bulkhead, and, well, EVERYONE

-MIKO is acting stoic and speaking in a monotone? OUR MIKO?

-Oh, Primus, no.

"Miko," Bulkhead would say, holding Miko's electric guitar. "Don't'cha wanna play your favorite song?"

"No time..." The girl would say blankly, and Bulkhead would drop the guitar in pure shock.

-It won't be long before Bulkhead pulls Miko aside to ask what's going on.

"This will explain everything..." Miko drones, showing Bulk a strange golden cellphone.

"A...cellphone?" Bulkhead questions. "Where'd you get that?"

"Answer it."

-Poor Bulkhead is fooled. He takes the call, and now there's two Autobots down.

-Bulkhead's mind-controlled state would definitely raise a few eyebrows. At first, it'd seem like he's just deeply lost in thought, but when it's time to battle, and he suddenly has no interest in kicking some tailpipe, it's clear something's wrong.

-Luckily, he's still pretty clumsy.

Bumblebee:

-Now, Bumblebee's situation is interesting

-He doesn't get infected by Raf.

-Rather, he gets infected trying to save Raf from becoming infected when a hypnotized Jack and Miko try to assimilate him.

-Poor Raf would be like: "Bumblebee, no! You don't have to do this to save me! I need you!"

-Unfortunately, Jack and Miko break their promise to spare Raf in exchange for Bumblebee joining them, so now all the humans are under, and nearly every Bot.

-Bumblebee's mind-controlled state is similar to when Megatron possessed him, only slightly less dangerous (I mean, come on. That was Megatron. You can't get much more dangerous than that).

-Bumblebee's is also the most obvious (besides Miko, of course). Bumblebee's such a sweetheart, it's easy to tell he isn't himself. Plus, his buzzing sounds different under mind-control. It's lower, and duller.

-Even while hypnotized, Raf is the only human who understand's Bumblebee when he speaks, so the two work together, unlike the others. The phones numb all emotions, so Bulkhead and Miko, as well as Arcee and Jack seem to have forgotten they're partners. Bee and Raf mainly work together because it's practical.

Ratchet:

-Poor Ratchet's going through it😂

-It took a LOT of fighting, but he managed to scan the others with his medical scanner.

-Ratchet is the one who figures out the phones are emitting a hypnosis-inducing frequency. Optimus is grateful for his help.

-However, with everyone else hypnotized, Ratchet gets cornered, and hypnotized himself.

-Poor guy. He tried to help them.

-Mind-controlled Ratchet is pretty scary

-Keep in mind, victims of the Pynch Phones maintain their intelligence

-Ratchet becomes a precise, calculating machine. He's gonna FIND that gold, and, if you try to stop him, he'll get you out of his way however he deems fit.

BONUS: Aftermath/Optimus is goated:

-Optimus manages to save the others by crushing the phones. Who knows? Maybe he and Megatron even had to team up.

-The others are super guilty upon snapping out of it. Bee is like a confused puppy, Bulkhead is furious, and Arcee is horrified (Jack keeps having to assure her he's ok). Ratchet has, like, a hangover because his neural net is too old for this mind-control shit.

-Optimus makes sure everyone knows it wasn't their fault. He's such a kind dude.

-Madeline Pynch should probably run. Messing with the Rescue Bots is one thing, but THIS is Team Prime. Optimus may be a pacifist, but Pynch endangered human lives. That's a biiiiig no-no when it comes to Optimus. He probably won't hurt her, per se, but she's in for a world of karma, because the other Bots aren't so forgiving,

[lowkeyremi]

mayaaaaa !! so your aot fluff just sent my soul back to my levi fanfic phase 😭😭 can you please please write more of levi with his younger lover ??? i need to know all about it !!! how do they cuddle? how did they get together? what’s he like in public with them????

love you lots <33

OFC!! This is such a cute concept i'm excited to write this >:3 AND ILY TOO <333

It's not required but if you haven't read the first part you might wanna do that :)

CW: None, just fluff

First encounter:

The two of you met when he was on a business trip. You and your friends were shopping for new clothes and he was at the store for a new tie, because according to his boss, "you wear that same tie all the time, Ackerman. This meeting is really important so try to look nice."

When you saw him it was game over. Funny thing is you didn't even try to hide it either, your eyes widened, your jaw was on the floor, and everything.

"That guy is so hot! You should talk to him." Your friend squeals.

"No way in hell, he's probably married! That'd be so weird." You argue in return. Your friend didn't give up though.

"Excuse me, sir! If you're looking for a tie my friend can help you look for one! She used to work in retail." Her voice is sweet when talking to him. If that super hot guy hadn't been right there you would have smacked her.

He didn't say anything at first, he looked you up and down. "He's checking you out!" She whisper-yelled. You elbowed her in the rib.

"I have a suit that looks like- you know what let me just look for a picture." He says, and what the hell... his voice is like silk.

You walk over to him. "Here it is." The suit is a dark gray, with a white undershirt. Your eyes scan his phone, it's an older outdated model and you can't help but giggle.

"Is gray a bad color for me?" He asks, with sarcasm.

"No no! It's just.. what model is your phone? It looks old." His brows furrow as he inspects his phone.

"I don't know, I got it a long time ago." He says with a shrug, "It works just fine."

"Sorry sorry. What kind of tie do you have right now? If you have one." You say trying to be inclusive.

"The one I usually wear is black but this is a special occasion so I need something else." You hum lightly while looking around.

"Okay, I'm thinking blue. Specifically dark blue." He nods and you two look around for a dark blue tie without patterns because he's basic.

Out of the corner of your eye your friends are making smooching faces and other romantic gestures. You're going to end them later.

"I found one thanks for the help." He says.

"Of course!" Fuck, too happy?

He stares at you for a moment, and you stare back before looking away. You take a step back and clear your throat.

"C-can.. I get your number?" Your foot is tapping and you're looking everywhere except for at him.

"Yeah, sorry if my calls don't go through because of my crappy phone." He says with a small.. smile?

You stare for a second in silence.

"That was my attempt at making a joke, it was bad." He says with a sigh.

"Yeah... we're gonna need to work on that. What's your name Mr. Gloomy?" You hand over your phone, you have the dial screen open so he can put in his number.

"Levi Ackerman." That small smile returns.

"I'll see you around, Levi."

In public:

Turns out you were actually the one who wasn't big on telling people about you at first. Levi is proud of everything he does. In all honesty you were slightly embarrassed by having an older boyfriend.

"What if people think you're my sugar daddy or something?" You reason.

"I'm not that old." He rolls his eyes.

"Why does it matter what other people think of our relationship anyway? They're not dating you, I am." He explains. He makes it sound like common sense, which it is, but you still think it's a little awkward.

"I mean it doesn't matter too much but-"

"I respect your decision. I'm not huge on PDA but I'd at least like people close to me to know." He explains rubbing his hand up and down your thigh. You grab his hand (which happens to be very veiny and pretty) and kiss it.

"Thanks, Levi."

-----

When you did tell everyone... you were all over him. Levi was never big on PDA but he didn't mind giving you a little kiss or holding your hand.

The only time he's really touching you in public is one someone's hitting on you. Levi gets scared that you'll find someone younger than him.

-----

"Did you want to go out sometime?" Your new co-worker asks you. He doesn't know you have a boyfriend but you've been rejecting him all week.

You check your phone to see that Levi's just arrived. Your shift ended early today and he promised to come get you and take you out.

"Um no than-"

"Are you ready to go, baby?" Levi's voice is confident and smug. The guy looks over to Levi and then to you. His face flushes and he starts to stammer.

"U-uh sorry. I... I didn't know." Levi exhales as the guy walks away in a hurry.

"You should call me that more often." You chime in with a cheeky smirk.

"I do." He offers you his hand. When you take it, he leads the way to his black cadillac.

"I mean yeah! But not outside of the house."

"I'm working on it... baby."

Meeting the parents:

To your surprise they were very accepting of Levi.

"They've always been very childish. I'm so glad they found someone to keep them in shape." Your mother was embarrassing as always.

"Take care of them." Your father had said.

Levi nodded and they stood there awkwardly.

"Um dad! Levi works for a law firm! Isn't that something? You've always wanted me to get into law school, remember?" Your attempt to change the subject worked.

"I did, but you never wanted to. Always said "Dad! I don't wanna sit at a desk all day!" What law firm do you work for Levi?" It must be a parent's job to embarrass their child.

"Oh I work for..."

That convo went on forever.

-------

"Hello, Mrs. and Mr. Ackerman." Levi nodded, which motivated you to place down the bouquet of Mrs. Ackerman's favorite flowers on her gravestone.

"You guys seemed like great people from what Levi told me. I'm taking care of him, he's not a lonely loser anymore." Tears are welling up but nothing comes out, you smile softly.

"I was never a loser." His eye roll doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"If that's what makes you feel better, then okay. Anyway, I wish I could have had the chance to meet you guys. Mrs. Ackerman I can see why your husband married you. You were fine as hell. That must be where Levi gets it from." You rant with a little giggle.

"I look more like my father." He reminds you.

"Yeah yeah, this isn't about you. I'm trying to meet your parents." You wave him away and continue to talk to the Ackermans.

"I think they would have liked you, a little weirded out by you at first but in the end they would have loved you like you were their own." Two arms wrap around you and then those tears fall. Out of all your relationships none have ever made you feel this loved and wanted.

Chilling:

"Boop!" Levi almost bites your finger this time.

"Stop "booping" me. It's annoying." He's facing you while in bed, those dark, onyx eyes look into yours. God he's so beautiful.

"I'm bored, let's get up." That's probably the tenth time you've said that to him.

"We agreed on fifteen more minutes of cuddling." Levi is a cuddler. In previous relationships you've complained about not being cuddled enough.

Levi is all about physical affection inside of the household. You love it, but at times like right now, you just crave to move around.

He's peppering your face with kisses, your eyelids, your nose, your cheeks, everywhere. The cherry on top is that he smiles when he hears you chuckle at his actions.

"Okay now we can get up, since you're so impatient." Those snuggly arms let go of your body so you can go get ready for the day.

"I love you Levi!" He hesitates upon hearing you say that before responding, "I love you too."

In conclusion Levi is literally like a dad who has to keep one of those little kid backpack leash things on his kid (you) lol he loves you tho <3

[youcouldmakealife]

Do you ever mix up names? I love your stories, but I am shit at names and as your pantheon/league grows I find myself increasingly turned around by all the north american dude names (first, last, AND hockey nicknames!!!). I can usually keep track of the on-going series names and names that are less common in North America (Kiro, Sven), but if I'm reading, say, an ask or rereading I usually have remind myself who is who first.

I don't mix them up between themselves and other characters in either a similar name way (James vs Jake, say) or roles (mixing up say, Wheels and Craney and Matty).

(This got so long and off topic, why does this always happen)

What I do mix up is sort of more of a...muscle memory thing, maybe? I'm writing the word, say, gorgeous, and I have to delete georgieous first, because my fingers apparently have become a phone's autocorrect function. I actually did write James as Jake a few times when I was deep deep in editing BTT, but again, it was just sort of like...an autofill error between my brain and my fingers.

The names themselves I'm pretty good with, though I do worry about whether I'll continue to be as a) the pantheon continues to expand (I love this by the way, and now I'm probably going to spend the rest of my evening mentally assigning characters places in the pantheon) and b) I get older. And both things seem pretty inevitable to me.

Unfortunately, the two things I appear to have in common with Leo Tolstoy are brevity and 'these people have three names, and I'm going to use them all interchangeably'. (ie Vinny is Thomas to himself, but Vinny to literally everybody else including me. And sometimes Tommy but only to Anton and his parents and only sometimes. Anton's alternately Anton, Petrov, Tony to Vinny and teammates, or Antosha to his family.)

I'd honestly apologise for it but it's one of those things that's really inextricable from the sort of...falling into a perspective way that I write, the same way I write in American English for American characters and Canadian English for Canadians, or use Christian (and specifically Catholic) references in Robbie or Georgie's POVs but never, say, Mike's or David's, unless we count Mike's very liberal usage of the word goddamn (and it's lowercase with him, but it'd be Goddamn to Robbie.)

And the different vocabularies extends to names. Like William Dineen is William to Robbie, he specifically asked to be called that when he was a teenager who wanted to feel more adult, and Robbie respected that then and continues to now. Georgie respected it in another way -- he was Willy to him, and now he uses Will, which William is fine with, but only with immediate family.

But in the text itself Georgie would never use William, because it'd feel distant to him, and Robbie would never use Will because he'd consider that disrespectful after William specifically requested to be called that, and me choosing one or the other wouldn't be in character, so he's Will and he's William, but never Willy (that's Tate Williams).

I make this all sound like a much more conscious process than it is. A lot of this stuff I've only figured out via metacognition of my writing process, which is, by necessity, done in hindsight.

My original answer to questions like 'why did you do _____ that way?' is invariably '*shrug* felt right', and people tend to find that...unsatisfying, so I often investigate further, and the answer becomes 'felt right because of <this reason I was in no way consciously aware of during the writing process>'. As I've said to my poor beleaguered editor, a lot of my writing process is 'just vibes'. I follow good vibes. Bad vibes tell me something's not working, and I adjust accordingly. I think a lot (I cannot tell you how many times I've been accused of overthinking things), but when it comes to writing, most of it's happening beyond my own perception, so instead it feels more like gut instinct. (which is, indeed, what gut instinct often boils down to: pattern recognition going on beneath one's conscious awareness)

[al-of-the-stars]

Hellooooo i saw you Vassago one shot and i just love it!!!! I see that you really like writing about him and I'm starting to form a animation crush on him sooooo... I have a request!

Would you like to write a scenario where Vassago and the reader go out on a date? Like a "next chapter" from the your previous one in which they exchanged sinsegrams! We could see their messege dialogue and a date with them being cute! Also if you like to add, in the end of the date, the reader suggest they have ice cream and it's the first time Vassago tries one because of his warm nature and the fact that he never trusted Andrealphus to try one of HIS "products". FLUFF!

So that's the whole idea you i would love to see you write it. ONLY IF you want to. I love all of your work! Have a happy day!!!

Sugar-sweet Beginnings pt. 2: Stars and Sugar Highs

Par 1

A/n: I LOVED WRITING THIS!! This is the longest foc I've ever written and I'm super proud of it! I kinda wanna write a part 3 later on lot gonna lie, but anyway, tysm for the request and I hope you enjoy! :D

It was a calm night where no sounds could be heard but the wind rushing against the hellishly red leaves of trees. The darkness of your bedroom illuminated with the light of your phone screen showing a notification from Sinstagram. You pick it up and slightly squint from the bright light, giving yourself a bit to adjust to the attack on your tired eyes.

“You have 3 new messages from Vassago_goetia”

You unlock your phone and look at your chats

Vassago_goetia: Hello! This is Vassago, we talked at the gala last night.

Vassago_goetia: I was wondering if you're perhaps free tomorrow at 7 pm?

Vassago_goetia: If not, it's perfectly fine! There's this lovely park that looks the most beautiful at around that time if you would be interested in accompanying me. 

A soft smile found its way to your lips as you stared at the glowing device in your hand. You started typing a response, ignoring the quickening of your heartbeat and how hot your face suddenly started to feel in the usually cold air of your room.

You: I'd love to! That sounds super fun

Vassago_goetia: Perfect! I'll pick you up at 6:50?

You: that works for me

You: See u then!! :)

You held your phone to your chest “Wait, he ACTUALLY wants to see me?!” you thought to yourself. The wind from the open window blew your curtains revealing the celestial landscape of your side of hell, the same one that he might have been looking at right now. “Holy shit, I'm hopeless” The thought was too much to deal with and if you imagined him one more time, you might have just died right then and there. The stars and bright moon had also reminded you of something else important, the time, which happened to be far later than you should have stayed up to. You let out an involuntary yawn and sank down into the plush mattress and closed your eyes, wishing that tomorrow would arrive sooner. 

When the morning sun invaded your room, you awoke to an unusual feeling. You felt enthusiastic. The feeling hit you like a truck and left you feeling like a Disney character waking up at the start of their movie. You knew you liked the parrot demon but never could you have imagined that a simple date would have been this important to you. 

When the time came for you to begin getting ready, you began to feel more and more nervous. You tried pushing those thoughts away; after all, you had a bigger task at hand, make sure your date goes smoothly. You were interrupted by a knock on your door. You opened it to see the very same demon that had been haunting your mind. 

“Ah, hello, my dear!” He spoke with a smile on his face, “Are you ready to head off?” 

“I think so,” you feel your heart skip a beat as he offers his hand for you to take and places a soft kiss to your knuckles. 

“Might I add, you look absolutely breathtaking,” he says as he leads you away, hand in hand. 

The walk to your destination is peaceful with smalltalk and laughter. You try to steal the occasional glance in his direction, but little do you know that he's doing the same thing. Time flew and you arrived at the park, which was far more crowded than anyone would have guessed. You took a seat on a blanket in a more secluded section of the park. Conversation just felt so natural with Vassago. As time passed, you lay on the blanket, staring up at the stars.

“They're lovely, aren't they?”

“Truly beautiful,” he said, looking at you with love in his eyes as he watched you admire the night sky. This moment was perfect. The love you felt was so strong you were sure Cupid himself could feel it from all the way up in heaven. The mood became more energetic as you saw an ice cream stand with bright blue lights. Vassago noticed your interest in the stand and looked at it nervously.

“Can we get some ice cream?” You ask him with sparkles in your eyes, one that he could never bring himself to say no to.

“I'm not sure, one of the other goetia are in charge of ice and cold in hell and.. how do I say this in a way that isn't mean… he's a bit of a…”

“A bitch?” You finish his sentence and he hesitantly nods. 

“I don't exactly trust him,”

“Oh come on, please?” You try to convince him. He simply sighs and leads you to the ice cream stand. You order excitedly like a kid in a candy shop and he can't help but think that smile is worth it. You happily eat your ice cream on the way back to your house. Vassago hesitantly tastes the one he got, strawberry mango. To his surprise, he actually quite enjoyed it. The time got later and you failed to realize how tired you were because of how much foun you were having until you bid your farewells and flopped into your bed. However, all your sleepiness  washed away as you got yet another notification.

Vassago_goetia: I had a lot of fun tonight, if you would be up for it, would you perhaps be interested in going on another date sometime?

[jtl-fics]

7, 14 and 22 from the fanfiction ask

7. Post a snippet from a wip.

From the Math Nerd AU that I'm working on in between FF and Beware:

"Josten." Kevin feels himself tense up at the sound of Riko's voice. "I would like to keep in contact with you." Riko says and Neil blinks in surprise.

"Oh, sure. I'd love to see some more pics of your pottery work." Neil takes the offered phone and fills in his contact information. "Just shoot me a text with your name so I know who it is." Neil raises his phone up and snaps a picture of Riko's face.

"Good." Riko says and there's an anxiety in his brother's shoulders that Kevin hadn't seen for years and years. "You have a discerning eye for a finance major." Riko adds.

"Lot of museums let kids in for free or cheap. Good way to spend my days." Neil shrugs and Kevin's stomach twists.

Neil is a Fox.

Neil has a past.

It just doesn't define him the way it seems to define every other Fox.

"I see. What is the stipend you get at Palmetto by the way?" Riko asks.

"Eh, it's fine. It's more than what I was used to back in Millport." Neil laughs.

"If you want, the Ravens could buy you out of your Palmetto contract. We have the resources to do far better than 'fine'. Especially for players as talented as you Neil Josten." Riko offers his hand.

Kevin feels his stomach drop.

"Sorry Riko, I'm a Fox and I think I'd literally freeze to death if I went to school up at EA." Neil declines easily with a laugh that feels genuine.

Riko blinks.

"It's the weather?" Riko asks.

"Yeah, maybe if you guys were down in Florida I'd consider it more but I legitimately cannot handle the cold." Neil reaffirms. "I'm a huge baby when it gets cold." Neil says.

"It's not like the dorms aren't heated." Riko frowns but it's not an angry scowl. Kevin looks at it closer and realizes that Riko is bewildered.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

14. What is your favorite location and position to write in?

Laid out on my couch.

22. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process?  How do you come up with titles?

I usually am writing a fic and then realize I gotta name it. I tend to be fond of quotes / references.

I'll take care of you - Whole series / chapter names are from the ancient greek play Orestes

It's Just You and Me, Just Us, and Y(Our) friend Kevin - Referencing Your Friend Steve song.

[jaozendry]

"Be your own Robin."

Pairing: Tim Drake (Robin) x GN!Reader

Type: Fluff

Warnings: stab wounds, blood

Summary: You met Tim Drake in a cafe but also met Robin in a dark alley while he was wounded. You caught him fighting some thugs and barely getting out of there alive. You felt this obligation to help him.

______________________________________________________________

"The usual, please." you ask at the counter, exhausted. While you're waiting for your order, a young man walks up to you. "Hey, is this yours? You dropped it on your way in." Realizing that his theory is correct, you chuckle nervously. "Uh, yeah it is. Thanks." He hands you the wallet and you reach for a handshake. "I'm Y/N." He engages back. "I'm Tim. Tim Drake." The cashier calls out your name. "You know what? On me." Tim proposes. "No, you don't have to-" Tim interrupts you. "It wasn't a suggestion." he says smirking, earning a little smile from you. "I'm sitting there, if you want." You sit at the table he pointed toand immediately notice the unsolved crimes book he left on it.

"You're into unsolved crimes?" you ask as he comes back with your order, intrigued. "I've honestly been trying to find answers to some of them, but nothing came of it." you say leaning back on your seat. "Really?" he asks. "I never thought I'd meet someone else who was into nerdy stuff like this." You smirk. "Oh well, I guess you did." He chuckles a little. "What if I helped you?" you ask him, flipping around the pages of the book. He smiles. "Sure thing. Let me be the lead." he says while smirking. You act offended. "If anything, I should be the lead." you say after scoffing. "It's my book, isn't it?" he teases while taking the book back from you slowly. "Well excuse me, Detective Drake." you say jokingly. He laughs and he begins reading out loud.

______________________________________________________________

It's been a few hours since the both of you have been solving mysteries and so on. Notes are spread out all over the dinner table, pens are flying through the air and laughs are being shared. Suddenly, Tim gets a call. He stands up and he looks concerned all throughout the call. He scratches his head, he walks around a little bit and he stutters a lot. "You okay?" you ask when he comes back. "Yeah, it's just a small emergency. I need to go." he replies while writing something on a piece of paper lying around. "That's my phone number. Maybe we can do this again sometime." he proposes. "Sure." you say, smirking. "Sorry I have to leave so early." he says while putting his jacket on. "It's fine, I get it. Don't worry, I'll get everything." you reassure him, putting all the notes in Tim's folder. Your new friend thanks you and leaves for the door. You rest your elbow on the table, deep in thought and questioning your feelings for the boy.

______________________________________________________________

Back in your appartement, you've been trying to sleep for a couple of hours now. You are so deep in thought that even drawing can barely help you cope. You've been drawing Tim's portrait for the past hour, you're wondering if you have feelings for the guy. While you're resting your head on your desk, you hear screams outside. You go up to your window and see Robin, Batman's sidekick, fighting off some thugs. He seems to be struggling, the thugs are overwhelming him. Despite their surperior numbers, they are no match for Robin. He walks out of that fight, limping and sweating. You notice he was wounded on the chest. You immediately head down to help him out.

You follow the young Robin as he heads down to an alley to catch a breath. He sits down, still holding his wound. "Are you okay?" you ask the vigilante. He turns to you, surprised. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just go, there's a ton of thugs out here." You pretend to not recognize Tim through his voice. "Just come to my apartement, I'll stitch you up. I don't want that to get infected." He sighs and gives up. "Fine." he says slowly standing up, grunting out of pain. "Let me help you up." you propose, helping him walk, heading to your apartment.

______________________________________________________________

"You know you don't need that mask in here, Tim." you say while stitching your masked friend's wound. He looks up to you, surprised. "When did you know?" he asks. "You're not the only genius around here." you say jokingly. "Also you need a voice changer." you add, earning a smirk from him. "Thanks, Y/N." he says. "It's what friends do." you reply, holding his hand. He looks back at you, surprised, but there is a deep sense of relief in his reaction. You add a comment, trying to diverse the situation after a few seconds of awkward silence. "That looked bad out there, it could've been infected." you continue. "Honestly thought I should call Batman for a second, but then you showed up." He looks back at you with a sad smile. You look back, accusing him. "You're trying to be worthy of the title of Robin, right? Like the old ones?" you ask, sitting up after patching him up. Tim sighs. "I just don't feel good enough, I'm not a fighter, Y/N." You hold his hand. "You don't have to be one. Be your own Robin." He looks up to you. "You just started out, right? you ask. "We all make mistakes, don't worry." He smiles. "Thanks, Y/N." he replies while slowly standing up, grunting from the wound. "Take it easy." you advice him, taking him arm to help him up. He heads for the door, stretching. He smiles after turning back to you and leaves. You whisper to yourself.

"Should I have told him?"

[17snifflesandsnzes]

Hello! I love your writing and I'd like to request a Vernon allergy fic, with hiphop unit as caretaker.

Thanks for the compliment! Here it is, I hope you enjoy!

I'd Say It Had Been A Pretty Eventful Day

Vernon pov:

I really should have known better than to even think about writing a song while it's peak allergy season. Guess I just didn't think it through. We had about a month left before our official comeback with the album FML and even though all the group songs had been recorded, all the units still had to record their songs. As far as I knew, the vocal unit had finished their recording and the performance unit would start recording later this week. But of course, we hadn't even written our song.

Jihoon hyung had left the writing and recording to us because we usually went with the flow and how we feel at a given moment but now, with the deadline so close, there was a sense of urgency that I could feel whenever Seungcheol hyung scheduled a hip hop unit songwriting session. So of course, when I checked the pollen count of the day we were going to finish our song, I couldn't help but groan. With my luck, it just makes sense that the day the pollen count is at an all-time high is the day I gotta write a song and record it. And unsurprisingly, I felt the effects of the pollen almost immediately after I woke up. I rubbed my hands over my face, groaning, as I sat up.

I went through my morning routine basically on autopilot and when I walked into the kitchen, I saw Mingyu hyung in the kitchen making breakfast. “Morning, Hansol!” Mingyu called out and I smiled. “Morning, hyung.” I took a seat at the table and rested my head in my hands. Wonwoo hyung joined me at the table. “I checked the pollen count for today. Are you gonna be okay?” I sighed before lifting my head to look at him. “We're only gonna be writing and recording. I'll be fine, hyung. Plus, we don't have a lot of time left and both Jihoon hyung and Coups hyung are getting pretty stressed right about now.” Wonwoo hyung looked like he wanted to say more but for my sake, he kept his mouth shut.

Seungcheol hyung joined us at the table for breakfast soon after. “Guys, let's try to finish up with writing the song and at least get some recording done today, okay?” All 3 of us nodded but I had the underlying feeling of dread. Knowing my allergies, it was wishful thinking to hope that I would get any work done. But maybe I'll push through this time? Right?

Wrong.

As soon as we stepped outside of the dorm, the sunlight hitting me in the face, I immediately felt a buzzing itch in my nose. I rubbed my wrist against my nose, trying to lighten the tickling sensation but that only seemed to elevate it. Accepting defeat, I turned my face directly towards the sun, my breath hitching, bringing up my arm to my face. ��hh'ItShuhHh!- hh'hKtChuHh!-'' Mingyu looked back at me. “Bless you.” I thanked him, my ears burning from the attention.

After we entered our company van, I pulled out my phone, scrolling through it as we made our way to the company. Even after the sneezes from earlier, the tickle at the back of my sinuses absolutely refuses to dissipate. After about 5 mins in the van, I felt the tickle grow and I immediately pinched my nose hoping to hold back the sneeze. Unfortunately, that did nothing to relieve me of the tickle instead making my nose even more tickly. I brought my hand up to cup my nose and mouth, my eyes fluttering shut. “hh’AtKShuHh!- hh'IkKShuHh!-” I sighed as I rubbed my nose, which had started to run. I could feel the eyes of all 3 of my hyungs on me but I chose to ignore them, keeping my eyes on my phone instead.

Thankfully, we arrived at the company soon enough. At this point I just wanted this day to end but since we hadn't even started yet, I guess I can't complain. When we reached our recording studio, Mingyu hyung and Wonwoo hyung started to set up the equipment while Seungcheol hyung pulled me aside. “Are you gonna be fine today, Sol?” I sighed at the concern in his voice. I really needed to get through this recording. I smiled at him. “I'll be fine, hyung. Seriously, you don't have to worry.” Seungcheol nodded before joining the other 2 to help with setting up the equipment.

Soon, all 4 of us were sitting across from each other with a notebook in front of us, trying to come up with lyrics. We had come up with the main melody in the last songwriting session and now we had to come up with lyrics to that melody. I had hoped the tickle in my sinuses would eventually go away as I wasn't directly exposed to pollen. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. I had the irritating need to sneeze almost every second I was sitting there, coming up with lyrics. Though I hadn’t sneezed even once since I entered the studio, the tickle in my sinuses refused to go away. My eyes were also watering and my nose wouldn't stop running. I could tell the others were also aware of my growing discomfort and I was grateful that they chose to ignore it as I was already embarrassed enough.

We were coming up with lyrics for Mingyu's part and since I had helped with the writing of this song, the members kept asking me for feedback. “Vernon-ah, what do you think about this?” Mingyu asked me, passing me a notebook. Even though I tried really hard to focus on his lyrics, the tickling sensation at the back of my sinuses had finally reached its peak and soon enough, my breath started hitching again and I cupped my hands over my nose and mouth. “hh’KtShuhHh!- hh’HktCHuhHh!- hh’KtChUhHh!- Sorry.” Wonwoo handed me a tissue. “Bless you. And don't be sorry.” I nodded, heat rising up my cheeks from the attention I was getting. I cleared my throat, focusing my attention back to Mingyu's lyrics. “These are good, hyung! But for the ‘I got the fantasy and I got the dream’ I think saying ‘I got the’ in English and ‘fantasy’ in Korean would be more effective. It'll sound better too.” Mingyu nodded, scribbling in his notebook before he looked back up at me. Unfortunately, at the same time, I felt the annoying tickle return and my breath started hitching immediately. I felt my eyes water as I tried to keep them open to look at Mingyu. “Hansol, how about-” “Wait a sec, hyungHh…hh'hTkShuHh!- hh'AktChuhHh!- hh'KtShUhHh!- Ugh.” I took out a few tissues from the box Wonwoo had kept in front of me and blew my nose into them. My eyes still watering, I looked back up at Mingyu. “Sorry, hyung.”

Mingyu (and the other 2 hyungs for that matter) looked concerned. “Bless you, Sol. And it's fine. Are you okay?” I nodded and groaned, my nose tickling again. I felt my breath start to hitch but the sneeze just won't come, no matter how much I rubbed at my nose. Letting out a noise of frustration, I rubbed my knuckles back and forth on the bridge of my nose. That seemed to have finally urged the sneeze to come and I quickly pulled out a tissue from the box and turned away from the others. “Hhh…hh'HkTShuhHh!- hh'TtShUhh!- Hh…hh'ItChUhhH!- Oh my god…” I blew my nose again and then turned back to my hyungs. All 3 of them looked concerned and stern. “Are you sure you're okay, Vernon? You don't sound okay at all.” I looked at Seungcheol, meeting his eyes. “I'm fine, hyung. Plus, we really need to get this done. It's just allergies.” Even though I knew that it would probably be easier to just go home and rest, I didn't wanna quit now. I can pull through this, okay? The rest of the hip hop unit looked like they highly doubted I could pull through though. We continued writing lyrics and after what felt like hours, we finally finished the song. I heard Mingyu cheer loudly and Seungcheol let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, we're done with the song. Vernon, do you want to help us record since you wrote the track?” I nodded, moving over to sit in front of the computer.

Mingyu pov:

I seriously wanted to tell Vernon that he was fooling absolutely no one when he said that he was fine. He had been sneezing on and off for the entire day and right now, he looked absolutely miserable. The more time he spent in the studio, the worse he seemed to get even without direct exposure to pollen. But as he refused to rest, there was little we could do to make him comfortable. Right now, he was seated in front of the computer. He looked like he could barely even see through his watering eyes and I'm sure the bright screen wasn't helping at all. Seungcheol hyung had set up his mic to try and record the first few bars of the song unofficially so that we could pick up from there in our next recording session. Just as he was finishing up with his rap, I could see Vernon gearing up to sneeze again. He turned away from the computer, his arm coming up to his face. “hhTkChuhH!- Hhh…hhKtShuhH!- hh'HkTChuhHh!- Hhh…hhKtChUhhH!-” I could see his eyes shining with allergic tears as he turned back to the computer screen and I watched (in horror) as he accidentally clicked the wrong button and deleted the track.

For a minute, I could see him buffering as he probably didn't even understand what he had just done. And then I saw both Seungcheol hyung and Wonwoo approach him in shock. “Oh my god, Vernon-ah, did you just delete the track?!” Seungcheol sounded angry and Wonwoo just looked utterly shocked. Vernon stared at the screen in surprise. “What?”

“Did you just delete the track?! How could you, after all the effort we put into it?!”

I could tell Seungcheol hyung was on the verge of exploding so I quickly stepped in. “Relax, hyung. Maybe we can fix it?” I turned to the computer screen before taking Vernon's seat and scanning through the computer files. Wonwoo hyung joined me. “Try the recycle bin.” He told me and I scanned the app and immediately found the deleted track. I let out a sigh of relief as I restored it. From the corner of my eye I saw Seungcheol collapse onto a chair, looking lightheaded with relief. I scanned the room for Vernon and I found him with his hands cupping his face, his chest rising and falling with desperate gasps. “hh'AktChuhHh!- hh'HkTShuhHh!- Fuck.”

He looked up as he saw all 3 of us staring at him. “Sorry.” He said after a while, looking sheepish. Seungcheol let out a breath. “It's fine, Hansol-ah. But we're taking you home, okay? You need rest and we're not risking you working and then accidentally deleting our track again.” Hansol nodded, keeping his eyes down. I approached him, patting his back. “Hey. It's fine, Sol. We just want you to rest, that's all. Your allergies look like they could kill you right about now.” Vernon laughed at that and I turned to Seungcheol. “Do you want me to drive him home while you work?” I asked and he nodded. I turned to Vernon and picked up my keys. “C'mon then.”

I entered the company parking lot and entered my car, Vernon behind me. The ride from the company to our dorm was a bit long and I could see Vernon slowly falling asleep next to me. When we reached the dorm, I didn't wake him up immediately wanting to let him rest. Eventually, I patted his thigh. “Come on, Hansol-ah. You could sleep more inside.” He nodded tiredly and we entered the dorm. Upon entering, he immediately made his way to the couch and buried his face in his hands. I was about to offer him some water before he gasped softly, his eyes fluttering shut. “hh'HgTChuhHh!- hh'AktShuhHh!- Hhh…hhKtChUhHh!-” He sniffled wetly before looking up at me with tired eyes. I smiled sympathetically. “Bless you. Do you need some allergy meds?” “Yeah, hyung. Thanks.”

I nodded before taking out some antihistamines and handing them to him. After taking the medicine, I could see him fighting sleep almost immediately. I patted his shoulder. “You should get some, Hansol-ah. Today's sneezing must've tired you out.” He nodded tiredly before making his way to his room. Before he entered, he turned around in the doorway. “Thanks for today, hyung.” I smiled at him. “No problem, Sollie. Sleep well.” He smiled back at me before entering his room and collapsing on the bed. I saw him fall asleep almost immediately and I smiled, making my way out the door. As I was driving back to the company, I recalled all the things that had happened that day. I'd say today had been a pretty eventful workday.

[bloodlustngore]

Blanket - Jennifer Jareau

I was planning on uploading this last night but forgot and fell asleep, oops. Also, I currently have 0 motivation to write so if anyone has any prompts I'd appreciate it :)

Also, this was already uploaded on my Wattpad!

In which JJ gives Y/n her blanket on the jet, a luxury not many others get.

Warnings: None, just fluff.

Sorry this one is a bit short! And again sorry if this sucks, I feel like I rushed it, but oh well.

They had just left a case, everyone on the jet heading home, either reading, listening to music or talking. All Y/n wanted to do was take a nap, that and the fact she had a headache.

JJ, her girlfriend and fellow agent noticed as she came back from the kitchen area with a cup of coffee. The only thing, besides water that the blonde would drink on the jet. "Jayje my head is killing me, and all I want to do is take a nap before we're home" Y/n explained, groaning.

During the case, Y/n had been feeling ill, not to the point of actual 'I'm going to throw up' or stomach pains, but she'd had a migraine. Emily told her to take it easy, but JJ tried to make her stay behind with Penelope and help from there. Which of course, as stubborn as her girlfriend is, Y/n did not.

"Still? We need to get you to a doctors, sweetie" JJ sighed, worried.

"No JJ I promise I'll be fine, I've told you before my headaches come and go" Y/n added, trying to reassure the blonde woman, who placed her mug of coffee on the table. "But they're usually further apart, you had this migraine for two days, then it stopped, and now it's back. I'm taking you to the doctors when we get back" JJ explained, trying to get passed the woman she loves stubbornness.

"It's probably because I forgot my medication for it..." Y/n paused, realising what she had just said. Nobody asked if she bought her meds for the migraines with her, they all just assumed. The look on JJ' face, suggested she wasn't very happy.

"Y/n! You can't just forget your meds for it! Next time I'm going to remind you. That's it." JJ stated.

"I'm sorry, okay? I thought I had them." Y/n apologised.

"Hey, it's okay" The blonde leaned down a little placing a kiss on her girlfriends temple. Both women were happy they didn't have to sneak around the team anymore, of course they remained professional during cases, and also at work at home, but it just felt so freeing for them, that they don't have to hide their relationship from their friends.

"Jayje, can you stay next to me so I can atleast try and get some sleep?" Y/n asked.

"Of course, I'll be right back" And with that JJ went over to the seat she normally keeps the blanket she has on the jet. That literally nobody else can use, although Emily used it once but that was because JJ allowed her. And as her best friend other than being her boss, but that was one time.

"So Y/n can have the blanket, but nobody else?" Reid chuckled.

"Spence, she gets girlfriend privileges" JJ stated. Making Emily, Tara, Luke and Rossi chuckle. "If you want a blanket go buy one" JJ added. Walking back over to her girlfriend, "hey, get cosy with this" she added, wrapping the blanket around Y/n.

As JJ sat down Y/n kissed her cheek "thank you". Allowing Y/n to rest her head against her shoulder as she got comfortable in her seat. JJ thought because of her girlfriends headache it would be uncomfortable, but Y/n closed her eyes and slowly drifted off.

"Let's take a picture! That's so cute!" Luke exclaimed with his phone out.

"Luke I swear to god, if you don't put your phone down I will take it from you and crush it with my heel" JJ spoke, as quietly as she could careful not to wake Y/n up.

"I'd do as she says if I were you" Emily chuckled. And with that Luke put his phone away and sat back down.

JJ was just happy that Y/n could atleast get a little nap before getting home, take her mind off of that migraine.

[leegemma]

heeeloo!! thank you for such wonderful work, it's just so good, i love ittt.

if you don't mind, i'd like to suggest one idea, but you don't have to write it or do it exactly, maybe i can inspire you hehe :))

let's say it will be a continuation of the story of minho and han (because you write about them is just wonderful, these are my favorite works!!). so, jisung can't sleep and comes to minho. he tries to ask for soft tickles to relax, but for some reason he worries more than usual just because of them. I love soft tickling so it's just>>>> thank you for your time! love you❤️‍🩹

Hiiii! Thank you for your sweet compliments and for your request! Took me a while but I'm finally getting back into writing (I think 🤭) hope you like it!!!

💓This fic is part 5 of 'a day off'💓

Enjoy:)

-------------------------------------------------------

It was passed midnight and Han jisung couldn't fall asleep. Now don't get me wrong, in the stray kids dorm nearly anyone was ever asleep, but they had just got off a flight and were all exhausted.

As soon as they got home each boy went to his own room and fell asleep within seconds.

But unlike them, Han has tried and tried and tried to fall asleep for what felt like ages but for some reason he just couldn't.

Han tried to think what could help him fall asleep peacefully, and just as he was strating to get frustrated with himself it came to him.

He needed Lee know's tickles.

And so with the perfect solution in mind, Han stood up and walked to Lee know's room, standing outside his door with surprise as he noticed Lee know's lights were still on.

Han knocked on the door twice and then opened it, stepping inside and closing it after him. "Hyung?"

Han turned to see Lee know smiling at him softly, putting his phone down. "Hm?"

"Why are you still awake?" Han approached Lee know's bed.

"I could ask you the same thing." The older chuckled as han sat on his bed. "Do you need anything?"

Han turned slightly red, which immediately was like a signal to Lee know, telling him exactly what han wants.

The older smirked. "Really Han? Even this late at night?"

"I can't control it!" Han cried. "And I just think... I just think it might help me fall asleep."

Lee know's smirk softened. "Fine... how do you want them?"

Han beamed and went to lay down on his back across Lee know's bed. "Soft please..."

Lee know cooed. "Sure thing... you'll have to keep your arms up though, okay?"

Han hesitated and then shyly nodded. "I'll try."

The bunny smiled. "Good enough for me, go ahead and lift them when you're ready."

Almost immediately, Han raised his arms above his head and rested them on the pillow behind him. "I'm ready..."

Lee know smiled and raised Han's shirt to expose his tummy, starting to slowly scratch all over it.

Han started giggling and twitching, having the time of his life and already feeling more calm.

Lee know went on to softly wiggle his fingers on Han's sides, smiling along with the laughing boy.

"I- I like thihis" Han said mid laughing.

Lee know chuckled. "I know you do..." he then slowly walked his fingers up all the way from Jisung's sides to his armpits, causing the boy to Almost put his arms down. "Keep them up, yeah?"

Han nodded with a giggle, trying to scrunch his shoulders up when Lee know slowly went into his neck.

Lee know kept up with the soft tickling until Han finally yawned with a laugh. "I think I'm sleepy now..."

Lee know smiled and couldn't help but squeeze the younger's cheeks out of affection. "You're so cute."

Han blushed. "Thank you for doing this, Hyung..."

"Anytime, Hannie. Anytime."

"Can i- can I maybe stay here tonight? I'm just scared I won't be sleepy anymore of I get up to go to my own bed." Han stuttered slightly.

Minho rolled his eyes playfully. "You can just say you want to sleep here with me, no need to make excuses."

Now it was Han's turn to roll his eyes as he joined lee know under the blanket. . "You love yourself too much."

"Not as much as you love me." Lee know teased, turning off the light in the room.

Han couldn't help but laugh. "Goodnight Lee know hyung."

"Good night Han, sleep well."

[a-queer-seminarian]

big ol' worry dump, i promise i'll post something rebloggable soon but i'm still processing everything and have not had time to write it coherently! cw queerphobia from the pulpit, church hurt, verbal violence, and brief csa mention (not a specific case)

SO. for anyone not keeping up, this past Sunday i visited my childhood church in ohio, and was devastated when near the end of his homily (Catholic word for sermon haha) my childhood pastor suddenly switched from celebrating the Spirit who bursts through closed doors to proclaiming that The Church Is Under Attack from people like the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. :/

After he finished and sat down, i stood up and got behind the lectern/pulpit to remind him and everyone in the room that queer and trans people have the Holy Spirit too, because his words implied otherwise. And i could not risk that any other person there felt suddenly and utterly alone — i had to make sure they knew that not everyone agreed with our priest's message.

(Here's a place you can watch a clip of the homily — obviously mega content warning for homophobia, please keep yourself safe and remember you are loved!! — as well as my response)

Not long into speaking, I was escorted peacefully out of the building. Two parishioners followed and found me outside, and thanked me for what i said. They were very sweet <3

As we were talking, another parishioner stormed out and got very, very verbally violent. It was scary shit.

Other parishioners eventually came out and led Scary Man away, thankfully. The church's other, younger & newer priest, Father Jim, also came out to apologize profusely to us. Then i went home. My wife and i flew home to Georgia the next morning.

____

and...stuff keeps happening.

i did not expect this to make the news, but it did. the Cleveland Plain Dealer wrote on it, and so have other papers across the country.

an officer called me to ask if i wanted to press charges on Scary Man. I don't, because i'm just not convinced the results would be helpful to actually stopping him from doing what he did again.

if anyone has resources or someone smart i could talk to for advice on alternatives to cops & court for a situation like this, please hit me up!!!

after agreeing to an interview with the Plain Dealer reporter, which used my first and last name, folks have been finding me on social media to offer their support, which actually has been so uplifting and i plan to post some of the messages later!

my parents are proud of me and support me BUT my mom is worried sick that someone is going to, like, find out where i live and come attack me. i'd be more worried that they find out who my parents are and go attack them, tbh.

i've had more sudden spikes of adrenaline in the past five days than i have in the past like, 2 years lol

i've also talked with more different individuals on the phone in the past five days than i had over the rest of 2023 so far

i was scrolling through twitter last night and randomly came across a tweet featuring a TikTok of a cut-down version of my priest's homily + my response...i really don't like what parts they cut out, or what they titled it. and it's got over a million views. :OOO

there's a lot of confusion in the replies — people who don't realize i'm a former parishioner, not an active one; people not knowing how to gender me which is fine but it's, you know, getting a little grating; and of course, people resorting to saying Father Tim must be "closeted gay" or otherwise have a Sinister Secret himself to say what he said...I hate that kind of rhetoric.

Not every person who spouts homophobia is secretly gay. The Biggest Homophobes are usually, shockingly, straight.

And flippantly suggesting that anyone, even a Catholic priest, is a pedophile without facts to back that accusation up only serves to harm csa victims — because then when there really is a case that needs to be pursued, people may not take it seriously.

one big thing that's bothering me about how everyone on every side of the debate is interpreting Father Tim's homily is they are focusing mostly on his condemnation of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence — and while I certainly oppose what he said about them, it's actually the first half of his message that scared me more: the stuff about the church being under attack and how Christians must defend it. He ended with a vague reminder to do so "peacefully," without any examples about how that's even done. And obviously, Scary Man didn't absorb that part of the message.

sigh. i was really hoping that agreeing to an interview with the plain dealer reporter who wrote the first article would give me a chance to explain why i felt i had to interrupt Mass, but unfortunately they didn't include those quotes. i'm really disappointed.

that article's title also says "attendee fired back," using exactly the kind of violence-coded language that I had a problem with in F. Tim's homily. So that's really unfortunate.

which is why i want to write up my perspective. i did send a long ass email to father tim the other night explaining what i did, why his message was hurtful AND fueled his parishioner's violence, and asking if we could talk about alternative ways to hold Scary Man accountable beyond the law. he hasn't responded yet.

anyway. yeah. it's been. a lot. good vibes and prayers are so very appreciated! and seriously, if anyone has resources about alternatives to legal action when we're dealing with someone who got very verbally violent and physically aggressive, i'd love some help figuring out what to do. also any thoughts about like, keeping myself safe? yeah

Anyway, gonna end with the affirmation that God made us Good; human diversity is what it looks like to be in the image of an Infinite creator; and queerness is a holy gift that the Body of Christ can't do without!!

Amen and amen.

[obsoleteozymandias]

hello!! i'd like to request a twisted wonderland matchup if ur still doing them! if not that's totally cool :) feel free to ignore this!!

here's my info!!

i use any pronouns and i'm aroace irl, but i still like fictional characters LOL. my mbti is intp, and my "big three" zodiacs are pisces sun, aries moon, and sagittarius rising.

personality: for how i'd describe myself, i'd definitely say i try my best to be optimistic about things. whenever i ask people if my personality is the sun or the moon, they usually say i'm the sun LOL. i've been told that i have a relaxing voice and that i have a comforting presence. from my perspective, i'm decently quiet and shy and i get pretty nervous talking to new people irl, but once the conversation gets going, i can talk to anyone just fine. i tend to be agreeable, and i think i'm pretty easy to talk to. my friends say i'm a sweet person , but that i also seem to get lost in my thoughts a lot or daydream often. i've also been told by many people that i'm pretty funny, and my humor tends to rely on a mix of my vocabulary and the latest trends. i'm playful and silly by nature, often teasing my friends and goofing around, but i'm also capable of providing genuine advice and comfort to people if they need me to. i like a lot of playful banter in my life. i've also been told that i'm trustworthy and reliable whenever i work with other people. additionally, i'm more detail-oriented, mainly because i like to go in-depth and consider things with logic if i can. but, at the same time, i can be a bit impatient and impulsive if i really want something, but not so much that i do anything too reckless, if that makes sense LOL.

likes: psychology (so much so that i want to pursue a career in it), astrology, history, playing video games (mainly roblox, cookie run kingdom, the persona series, and twst), sweet stuff and candy, watching the sunrise, sleeping / taking naps, cats, listening to music

dislikes: bugs (i'm terrified of them ☹️ just the thought of touching them makes me shudder with fear), dirty rooms, injustice, canned green beans (i gagged last time i ate them 😭), singing in front of other people, dancing (only bcuz i'm really bad at it and it's embarrassing, LOL), overly arrogant people or people who think they're "above" me

hobbies: i spend a lot of my free time on my phone and in my room. i don't go to new places often, but i love to play games with my friends and chat on the phone. occasionally, i'll try out a new makeup look that i find online since i'm somewhat into beauty stuff. i usually spend a couple hours a day on tiktok (my attention span is cooked 🙁), but lately i've been trying to get back into drawing or painting!! i want to utilize a bit more of my creativity instead of just sitting around all day LOL. additionally, i'm a bit of a clean freak, so if a room in my house is getting a bit dusty, i'll dedicate a few hours to cleaning it up and reorganizing.

extra: im super sorry if this ended up being rlly long 😭 tysm for ur time!!

Extra info means extra points to write about no need to apologize!

== Twisted Wonderland ==>

I match you up with…

Rook Hunt

Pre-relationship:

Rook sees your inner beauty, as he does with most people, right away. The instant he meets you he’s going on about how lovely you look, and how your shyness hides away a vivid personality. 

How does he know these things? Pure instinct. But it’s a refined and usually correct instinct, so make of that what you will. 

He flutters around you day in and day out, asking you questions and testing you reactions to anything and everything. He’s a bit overwhelming at first, but once you really get to know him, he’s a reliable friend and always there to pick you up when you’re feeling down. 

He’s also taken by your interest in psychology. He himself is very observant and notices quite a lot about others that they don’t even know, and so the study of how the mind works fasniates him. If you tell him a factoid or two about psychology, and how you think it applies to one of your classmates or peers, he’ll be thrilled and praise you for your intelligence. 

Once you get close, he’ll often bring out the playful and silly side of you, absolutely taken with your smile and the sound of your laughter. Perhaps it’s then when he realizes that he’s fallen for you.

Confession: 

Rook is a romantic, sure, but he’s also knowledgable about your tastes and preferences. If you’d want a beautiful confession by moonlight, him singing a ballad beneath your window, then you’d get that. If you’d want a small and intimate confession, him gazing into your eyes lovingly, you’d get that. Whatever it was, two things would be certain: it would be terribly romantic, and it would be perfect. 

Relationship:

Whatever hobbies you have, Rook will absolutely be a part of them now. You want to draw? He’ll be your model, or watch you as you create! Playing video games? He’ll be your player 2! Whatever it is, he enjoys it, so long as he gets to be by your side. 

He hides his emotions fairly well from others around him, but when he’s around you, he tends to let you in on some of the smaller or more negative things he feels. It’s here that he appreciates the part of you that gives good advice. 

In turn, he’s always a willing confidant, and absolutely will tell you if you need to take a break from being the school’s therapist. 

He won’t just tell you: he’ll scoop you up and run away with you if needed, laughing like a madman and cuddling you so you wouldn’t be able to escape.

One thing is certain: whatever challenges or trials you face in life, Rook will be there to help you through them. 

[bored-writer101]

Sam Winchester X Reader|Supernatural Rewrite|1.Pilot

A/N: well, the time has finally come. i’m finally posting my supernatural rewrite😂 huge shoutout to @uncouth-the-fifth for inspiring me (she also has a supernatural rewrite that is absolutely phenomenal that you guys should definitely go check out). i’ve been trying to start a rewrite basically ever since i started writing fanfic for this show, but it has never worked out. but i’ve finally figured it out! (kinda lol, i’m doing my best😂😭). i hope you all enjoy! (i wrote this with female reader in mind but i use gender neutral pronouns) {also here’s a supernatural themed spotify playlist if y’all want a soundtrack while you listen <3}

Words: 13,673

Series Masterlist

(image from pinterest)

SIOUX FALLS, SOUTH DAKOTA | October 31st, 2005

"Dad? Are you okay? Dad, please wake up! Dad!"

You jolted upright in bed, panting as you tried to catch your breath and calm yourself down. You didn't get much of a chance to do that though. Your phone began to ring loudly from your bedside table, making you flinch. You reached out and fumbled around in the darkness for a few seconds before your fingers wrapped around the cold metal. You used your thumb to flip it open and held it up to your ear.

"Hello?" you could hear the shake in your own voice.

"Are you alright? Did I call at a bad time?" you immediately recognized the voice on the other end.

"I'm alright, Dean. I just had a nightmare, that's all."

"The usual one?"

"Mhm," you hummed in response.

"Well, we can do all our usual remedies after I pick you up," you could hear in his voice that he had a huge grin on his face.

"What? I thought you were in New Orleans?"

"I was. I had been waitin' on my dad, but he never showed. I haven't been able to get a hold of him for a few weeks," Dean told you.

"So? There were plenty of times that we weren't able to get a hold of him on a hunt when we were kids," you said, skeptical that John was truly missing.

John had always been one to drink a few too many in celebration of a hunt well done. You, Sam, and Dean would think something terrible had happened to him, but he would eventually stumble back in a few weeks later. The longest he had left the three of you alone was almost three months. Bobby stopped letting John take you on hunts after he found out about that.

"This is different. Somethin's happened, somethin' bad, if he's not dead already. I can feel it."

"Are you sure he's not just out on another bender?" you asked, disbelief evident in your tone.

"I'm sure, Y/N. I can explain more after I pick you up. Please, I need you to trust me on this," Dean pleaded through the phone.

You were hesitant to say yes. Usually you'd hop at the chance to go on a hunt with Dean, but this was different. You could hear in his voice that Dean believed that John was missing, and that he was worried. You trusted Dean, but you didn't trust his father. It could be another one of his 'hunter trials' to test if you were worthy to be hunters. He hadn't orchestrated one of those in a long time, but maybe that meant you were due for another one.

"Y/N? You still there?" Dean asked when you didn't respond.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm still here. Just thinkin'."

"Ya' really gotta think that hard about it?"

There was another moment of silence while you desperately tried and failed to find the words. You had so many thoughts swirling in your mind that you didn't even know where to start. Before you could complain that you had just woken up, Dean's voice was in your ear again.

"Come on, Y/N," he was not helping you think.

"Fine! I'll come with you," you relented, giving in to the sad puppy dog eyes you couldn't see, but you knew he was doing.

"Well, good... Because I'm only an hour and a half away," you heard him chuckle, and you decided you were going to smack him upside the head when he got here.

"And what were you gonna do if I said no?" you questioned.

"Kidnap you. Obviously."

"Like I'd let you."

"Whatever you say, kid," he said with a chuckle. "Just be packed and ready, alright?"

"Whatever you say, boss," you mocked him playfully, "See you when you get here."

"See you when I get there," he said, ignoring your teasing.

You heard the click of the call ending, then silence. You were frozen in place at first, and the memories of your nightmare came flooding back; your father's eyes closing and never opening again... You shook your head free of the image before finally dropping your hand holding the phone into your lap. The light from the still open screen hurt your eyes as they tried to adjust to the sudden light. You sat there for a few more seconds before pushing the covers off and forcing yourself out of bed. You got dressed in comfy clothes, knowing that you'd be spending a lot of time curled up in the passenger seat of the impala.

You tried to be quiet as you crept around the house, but you should have known better than to try and sneak around a hunter's home. You were leaned down in front of the open fridge, thinking of what to write on the 'see you later' note you were going to leave behind, when you heard someone clear their throat. You stood up straight and spun around quickly to face them. Bobby had his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at you with a deep frown, and furrowed brows that made the creases in his forehead all too prominent.

"Good morning?" you said hesitantly.

"Where are you going?" Bobby asked; he had never been one for nuance.

"Um, out on a hunt," you told him with a little more confidence than before.

Even though you were twenty three, Bobby's gaze made you feel like you were sixteen again. It made you feel as if you were sneaking out to meet Sam and Dean for a late night joyride in whatever rust bucket that Dean had found(hot wired). You knew Bobby wasn't going to stop you from going, but you still didn't want to piss him off before you left. You weren't sure when you'd be back.

"Dean picking you up?" he asked, his tone a bit softer than before, but he was still frowning.

You nodded at his question, "he should be here soon."

"Alright, well, just promise me you'll be careful. And that you won't let Dean talk you into anything stupid," Bobby wagged his pointer finger at you as he said this.

"I'm always careful," you told him, even if that wasn't entirely truthful, but you'd say anything to reassure Bobby you'd be alright; the last thing you wanted him to do was worry his head off, "also I'm usually the one talking Dean out of doing anything stupid," this statement had a little more truth to it.

Bobby didn't look convinced. Not that he ever did, but you didn't want to leave him annoyed with you. You took a couple steps forward and wrapped your arms around him in a sudden hug. It didn't take long before Bobby hugged you back, squeezing you tight.

"I love you, dad. I'll be back before you know it."

Bobby sighed deeply, "I love you too, kiddo," he said before placing a kiss on the top of your head.

Bobby wasn't your biological father, but he had stepped up and been your dad for over a decade. Any other day, he would have scolded you for calling him dad. He would tell you it isn't fair to your father, that you shouldn't try to forget or replace him. You always reassured him you would never forget though. What you don't tell him is that you'll never be able to forget the image of father dying in your arms as you beg for him to keep his eyes open. Before you could dwell on the dark memory for too long, you heard a short honk of a car horn outside. You pulled away and stood up straight in front of Bobby, raising a brow at him as if to silently ask, 'you gonna be alright?'

"Just go. Don't forget to call every once in a while so I know you're still alive" Bobby gestured toward the door.

"I will," you said as you walked to the front door, picking your duffel bag up off the floor, "bye, Bobby," you turned and waved to him with a smile, opting to not call him dad this time.

"Bye, Y/N," he waved back halfheartedly.

You turned back and headed out the front door, a rush of cold air biting at your exposed skin. If you were gone long enough, there would surely be a thick blanket of snow covering the junk yard by the time you got back. You noticed the impala in the driveway before looking up at the sky. You shut the door behind you as you admired the fiery shades of red and orange that were painted across the sky by the sunrise. You admired it for a moment before stepping down the porch steps. The gravel crunched under your boots as you walked over to the passenger side of the impala. You opened the back door and threw duffel bag in before getting into the passenger seat.

"Morning," you said to Dean once you had plopped down.

"Mornin'," he replied, wasting no time in pulling out of the driveway and back onto the road, gravel crunching loudly under the tires all the while, "I brought you some breakfast," he pointed to the fast food bag sitting on the seat next to you.

"Thanks," you mumbled as you grabbed the bag and pulled out the breakfast sandwich Dean had ordered for you.

You unwrapped your food and ate silently, the only sound coming from the Bob Seger tape that was playing softly through the speakers. You recognized the song to be Against The Wind. You thought back to the last time you saw Dean, and you realized it had been a few months. You kept in touch over the phone the best you could, but he had never been good at that, and you weren't much better. The last time you had seen him was about four months ago. You had gotten into a fight over John. Most of your fights revolved around him. It had been a simple misunderstanding during a hunt that made John flip his shit, and you were never one to take shit from him. Dean had barely made a move to defend you, and it hurt. He had apologized to you later, but it had been a Winchester style apology; a halfhearted one. You couldn't help but remember that fight now. Dean cleared his throat loudly, pulling you out of your thoughts. His thumbs drummed against the steering wheel has he hummed along to the music. You crumpled up the sandwich paper and threw it in the bag.

"So, we have a few stops to make," he told you with a grin, obviously trying to diffuse the building tension.

"Oh, yeah?" you replied, raising a questioning brow at him.

"Yeah, the first being a gas station. You can pick out some snacks for our drive."

"Good, because you always grab barbecue chips," you complained teasingly.

"What's wrong with a little BBQ?" he said, enunciating each letter in 'BBQ.'

"There's nothing necessarily wrong with barbecue, but eating them for every road trip can get a little boring."

"Fair enough. You still have to grab me a bag of them though."

"Yeah, will do."

Dean pulled off the main road and into the gas station parking lot. He pulled up to a gas pump and turned off the engine. He took out a few fives from his wallet and handed them to you. You said a quiet 'thanks' before you both climbed out of the impala.

"Don't forget my BBQ!" Dean called after you as you headed into the convenience store while he went to the gas pump.

It was only a few minutes before the two of you were back in your seats. You handed Dean his barbecue chips and a root beer before dropping your own snacks in your lap. Dean tore into his chips like a hungry bear, grabbing a handful and stuffing it into his mouth. You couldn't help but laugh at him as you opened your own snack.

"So, you gonna tell me why you think John is missing?" you asked, once he had chewed and swallowed.

"I know he's missing. He was hunting something that was killing men, and he left me a concerning voicemail that had some EVP," he explained, "I can let you listen to it when we get to our next destination," you furrowed your brows at his words, but you had a sudden realization.

"You wanna pick up Sam," you said simply.

Dean looked over at you with wide eyes, "how'd you know? You read my mind or somethin'?"

"We're gonna be in California, and we're gonna pass his place anyway. Just an educated guess," you shrugged, "also I'm not a mind reader, I'm a medium," you added.

"It's all the same to me," Dean said with a shrug as he started the impala and pulled out of the gas station; you decided not to lecture him on the differences between psychics and mediums.

"What if he says no?" you asked the question on both your minds after a few moments of silence.

Dean didn't respond, but you knew he had heard you. You looked over to see him expressionless, staring out at the open road.

"Dean?"

"You sure you're not a mind reader?" he tried to joke to change the subject, but you didn't laugh, and he frowned at your furrowed brows, "he won't. Dad's missing and we need his help. He has to say yes," you wondered how many time he had told himself that.

You were at an impasse, which frequently happened when you had to get in the middle of Winchester family drama. A part of you didn't want Sam to say yes. You knew he wanted to give up hunting for good, and you didn't blame him. You only wanted what was best for him, but there was another part of you that wanted him to say yes. You missed him every day. You tried to tell yourself you weren't pulling him all the way back into hunting, that you were just looking for John. A small voice in the back of your head knew better though. You knew this life loved to sink its claws in and never let go. Only a lucky few were able to fully detach themselves from the hunting lifestyle. Even then, it was impossible to scrub the stain of the hunting life off your hands. You weren't sure which answer you wanted Sam to give.

You and Dean sat in silence for awhile, both caught up in your own thoughts. You glanced over at Dean as the song that was playing came to an end. You took in Dean's tense posture, and how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel. You recognized the beginning of Black Dog by Led Zeppelin playing quietly through the speakers, and you immediately reached out to turn it up. You were the only person Dean allowed to touch his radio. You rested your arm on the back of the seat and leaned your body into his side slightly.

"Hey hey mama said the way you move. Gonna make you sweat, gonna make you groove," you sang along loudly into his ear.

You played the air guitar and you saw Dean glance at you from the corner of his eye. You could see him trying to hide his smirk.

"Ah, ah, child, way you shake that thang. Gonna make you burn gonna make you sting," you continued to sing along, gently nudging Dean's side with your elbow.

You saw him start to drum his thumbs against the steering wheel along to the beat as you continued to play air guitar.

"Hey hey baby when you walk that way. Watch your honey drip, can't keep away," you and Dean sang in unison.

You sang along to the rest of the song together. You occasionally played air guitar while Dean pretended to play the drums; you had to remind him to put his hands back on the wheel a few times. The song eventually came to an end, and the next song began playing. Dean reached out and turned it down slightly.

"I missed that," you said with a smile.

"Oh, don't get all sappy on me now," he said with a groan.

"What? No 'chick flick moments'?" you said sarcastically, making air quotes.

"Yeah, exactly. No chick flick moments," Dean repeated seriously.

"Whatever you say... Jackass," you said quietly with a smirk.

"Shithead," Dean was quick with his comeback, and he reached over to pinch your side, but you quickly swatted his hand away while laughing.

There wasn't much tension between you to begin with, but the little bit that had been there faded away with the end of the song. The rest of the long ride was filled with boring games of eye spy and spotting out of state license plates. You were glad to be in the impala with Dean again. You wished it was under better circumstances, but you were excited to see Sam again too.

PALO ALTO, CALIFORNIA

The sun had long since set by the time you arrived at Sam's apartment building. You had your window rolled down, the humid California night air made your exposed skin feel sticky, but you enjoyed the breeze. Dean pulled into the parking lot and parked up close to the front door of the building. You both unbuckled your seatbelts, but he put his hand out to stop you from opening your door.

"I'll go get him," he said with a mischievous grin on his face, so you nodded and sat back in your seat, "I'll be quick," he said before hopping out of the impala.

You watched Dean creep up to the front door of the building before he slinked inside and out of view. You leaned out of your open window to take in a deep breath of fresh air. It wasn't a great time to be alone with your thoughts, since all you could think about was that you were seeing Sam again after two years. You had kept in touch over the phone, but it wasn't the same as meeting up in person. Living almost across the country from each made it hard to hang out. At least that's what you told yourself. Sam had asked you to come visit a few months ago, but you had declined. You didn't think you'd be able to face him alone.

You didn't have to be left alone for long though. Before you knew it, you could hear the distant sounds of the brothers bickering. You knew those sounds all too well. You could hear them arguing about something, but you couldn't make you any words. You were about to yell at them to come out when the door finally opened. Dean came out first, Sam following close behind. Sam was gesturing wildly with his arms as he spoke, and Dean rolled his eyes. You opened the door and stepped out of the impala, causing both of them to turn and look at you.

"Y/N?" Sam uttered the moment he saw you.

You smiled wide as you shut the passenger door and started walking towards him. It only took Sam a few strides to meet you in the middle with open arms. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight and almost lifting you up off the ground. You stood on your tip toes and hugged him back just as tight, cherishing your first hug after two years apart.

"It's so good to see you," Sam said before pulling away; his smile was gentle and sweet, and you forgot how much you had missed those dimples of his.

"I didn't get a hug when I picked you up," you heard Dean mumble from behind you.

You turned away from Sam to face him. He was stood there pouting slightly with his arms crossed over his chest. You shook your head with an amused smile.

"Oh, sorry Dean. Did you want a hug? I can give you one too," you said a bit teasingly, but only because no matter what answer he gave, you were hugging him.

"No, it's fine-" you had your arms wrapped around his middle before he could finish speaking.

You hugged him tight, and he wrapped his arms loosely around you. He gave you a quick squeeze before patting you softly on the back. You pulled away and he shook his head at you with a small smile before turning towards the trunk.

"Anyway," he mumbled before popping the trunk and lifting the spare tire hatch inside to reveal all his hunting equipment, "where the hell did I put that thing?" he said to himself as he rummaged around the trunk.

"So, when dad left, why didn't you go with him?" Sam asked as he leaned against the side of the impala to watch Dean rifle through the disorganized mess.

"I was workin' my own gig. This voodoo thing down in New Orleans" Dean replied without looking up.

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?" Sam asked, incredulously.

"I'm 26, dude," Dean deadpanned, and you laughed.

Sam looked over at you with raised brows, which made you laugh even harder, "shut up, both o' ya's. Alright, found it," Dean picked up a small manila folder and pulled a small stack of papers out.

"Dad was checking out this two lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy-" Dean handed Sam a piece of paper off the top of the stack; Sam took it and held it out for both of you to see, "they found his car but he'd vanished; completely M.I.A.," there was a photo of a middle aged man next to an article about his disappearance.

"Maybe he was kidnapped?" Sam suggested.

"Kidnapped by a ghost maybe," you joked as you nudged Sam with your elbow.

"Yeah, here's another one in April, another one in December '04, '03, '98, '92," Dean slid a paper off the stack for each year he said, "ten of 'em over the past twenty years," he reached out and snatched the paper from Sam's hand, throwing it back on the stack, "all men, all same 5 mile stretch of road. Started happening more and more, so dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough, and then I get this voicemail yesterday."

Dean reached out and grabbed a tape recorder from off the top of the mess. He pressed play and you could hear John's voice come through the speaker, but it was staticky and garbled.

"Dean.... something-starting to happen...-think it's serious... I need t-... figure out what's going on... Be very careful, Dean.... We're all in danger...," a chill went up your spine as you listened to the message.

"You know there's EVP on that?," Sam said the moment Dean pressed pause.

"Not bad, Sammy. Kind of like riding a bike, isn't it?" Dean said with an amused smirk, and Sam only shook his head at him.

You couldn't focus on their banter, because you knew what was coming next. You stared expectantly down at the tape recorder in Dean's hand. You saw him glance at you in your peripheral.

"You think you'll be able to get anything from a recording?" Dean asked. 

"I might get something, we'll just have to see," you replied with a shrug.

"Alright," Dean said before pressing play again.

"I can never go home..." a woman whispered through the static, and you felt another chill up your spine, but this time it was accompanied by a wave of grief and intense anger.

Your hands gripped the edge of the trunk so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Dean looked over at you expectantly but you shook your head at him.

"Nothing helpful," you muttered as you continued to shake your head back and forth, trying to shake away the invasive feelings.

"It's alright," Dean reached out and rubbed your back soothingly for a moment before tossing the tape recorder back into the trunk.

Sam quickly took Dean's place as he wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulders and rubbed your bicep gently. Dean closed the trunk and stood up tall. He looked up at Sam expectantly, who only sighed deeply. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your cheek.

"Alright. I'll go," Sam said finally, "I'll help you find him, but I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here," he let his arm fall from around your shoulders and you shivered at the loss of his warmth.

"What's first thing Monday?" Dean asked as Sam turned to head back to his apartment.

"I have an interview," Sam said simply as he turned back to look at Dean.

"What, a job interview? Skip it."

"It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate" Sam explained slowly.

"Law school?" Dean asked with a questioning smirk.

"We got a deal or not?" Sam asked, ignoring Dean's question.

"Yeah, fine," Dean said after a moment of silence, and you noticed him clench his jaw in annoyance.

Sam nodded and turned to head back into his apartment building. Dean sat on the closed trunk and looked over at you with furrowed brows.

"Did you know about this law school thing?" he asked you.

"Yeah, I did," you told him, honestly.

"You guys talk regularly or something?" you heard a tinge of jealousy in his tone.

"Not all that regularly. We just update each other on major life events occasionally," that wasn't entirely true, but you'd rather not have to sit in a car with the brothers being silently angry at each other.

Dean didn't say anything else, instead he looked down at the ground and nudged a rock with his shoe. You knew Sam and Dean hadn't talked since Sam had left for college. Dean missed his little brother, and you didn't blame him. You just wanted to smack him upside the head for being so stubborn. He certainly wasn't the only Winchester you wanted to knock some sense into.

Sam came back down a few minutes later, emerging from the door of his apartment building carrying a duffel bag that mirrored your own. He tossed his in the trunk as you opened the door to the backseat. Dean furrowed his brows in confusion as he opened the drivers door.

"You don't want shotgun? You had it first, you're welcome to it."

"Nah, I'm alright. Sam always gets shotgun anyway," you said, and Sam shot you a grateful look.

You smiled back at him before getting into the backseat. You pushed your duffel bag to the floor, then you slid to sit in the middle seat, like you always did when it was the three of you. The brothers got into their respective seats before Dean started the impala.

"Alright, get comfortable kids," Dean said as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

A FEW MILES OUTSIDE JERICHO, CALIFORNIA

Your eyes fluttered open to the sound of a car door opening and closing. You blinked rapidly as you tried to let your eyes adjust to the sudden light. You lifted your head up off your makeshift pillow that you had made from your balled up jacket. You rubbed your sore neck as you cursed yourself for forgetting a spare blanket or pillow. You somehow always forgot to bring one.

You looked around at the scenery outside the impala. Not that there was much scenery to speak of. It was a clear day, no clouds to block the sun's warm rays. You turned to your left to see a rickety old convenience store, then turned to the right to see a couple gas pumps that looked like they had seen better days. Sam had his door propped open with his foot as he went through Dean's box of cassette tapes that sat on his lap. You could imagine the disgusted face he was making at all of Dean's classic rock tapes. The warm breeze felt refreshing as you worked on waking up.

"Hey," you heard Dean call out, and you turned to your right to see him through the window, "you want breakfast?" he asked Sam, holding up a few beef sticks and a bag of chips; your stomach growled as you saw the food in his hands.

"No, thanks," Sam said, shaking his head before going back to the box of tapes, "so, how'd you pay for that stuff? You and dad still running credit card scams?" Sam called out to Dean.

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career," Dean replied as he placed the nozzle back in the gas pump.

"You guys probably shouldn't be talking so loud about hunting and credit card scams," you said, loud enough so Dean could hear from outside the car.

The drivers side door opened a moment later and Dean climbed inside, continuing to talk loudly, having not heard or cared about your advice. You looked around and realized there didn't seem to be anyone else at the gas station. You just hoped the clerk didn't hear Dean's noisy confession.

"Y'know, all we do is apply for the cards. It's not our fault they send 'em."

You rolled your eyes at him. He set a soda down in the cup holder, and you reached out and snatched a beef stick from his hand. Dean silently handed you a bottle of water that you hadn't even seen him holding. You took it gratefully before setting it down next to you so you could rip open the wrapper of the beef stick.

"What names did you write on the application this time?" Sam asked, a bit quieter, taking your advice as he swung his long legs back into the car and pulled the door shut.

"Uh, Burt Aframian. And his son Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal," Dean said as he turned the keys in the ignition.

"That sounds about right," Sam said before looking back down at the box of cassette tapes in his lap, "I swear, man. You've gotta update your cassette tape collection," he said with a sigh.

"Why?" you almost laughed at how defensive Dean sounded.

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two-" Sam paused, grabbing a cassette and holding it up, "Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" he held up a cassette for each band he named, "it's the greatest hits of mullet rock," you were a little offended, considering the fact that you loved those bands too, but you knew Sam was only teasing Dean.

"House rules, Sammy," Dean grabbed the Metallica tape from Sam's hand, "driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole," you couldn't stop your laughter as Dean slotted the tape into the radio and pressed play.

Dean dropped the cassette case back in the box before he reached out and snatched the box from Sam. He tossed it back to you. You caught it with ease, setting it in the seat next to you. You smiled at the masking tape labels and crude handwriting on a majority of them. You spotted one that read 'Happy 21st B-Day D!' and it made you smile.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," Sam started, ignoring your giggles as he turned to Dean, "it's Sam, okay?" he demanded, but in a gentle way that only he could manage.

The music had already began to play, Battery playing softly through the speakers. Dean reached out and slowly turned the knob to increase the volume. Dean raised his voice along with the music.

"Sorry, I can't hear you, the music's too loud!" Dean said as he pulled out of the gas station and back onto the highway.

CENTENNIAL HIGHWAY, CALIFORNIA

Sam gave you the task of calling the hospital in the area for anyone matching John's description, while he called the morgue. It didn't take very long before you hung up the phone, having received the information you needed. You noticed a sign that read 'JERICHO 7' whiz by as Sam ended his call.

"Alright, so there's no one matching dad at the morgue."

"Or the hospital," you added.

"So that's something, I guess," Sam said.

You suddenly felt your chest tighten, and your heartbeat quickened as you seemed to be nearing a bridge. You could see it in the distance, and the only clouds in the sky covered the entire length of it. The dark clouds contrasted against the blue sky. You felt your heart drop at the sight of police cars parked near the bridge. Dean seemed to notice too as he glanced at Sam, then back at the road ahead. You could see a couple cops stood around a blue car that was parked sideways, blocking off the bridge.

"Check it out," Dean said as you neared the action.

Sam leaned forward with narrowed eyes to try to make out more details. As you got closer, it felt like a hand was being wrapped around your throat. You shivered despite the warm California air that was making you sweat. Dean pulled off on the side of the road a couple yards away from the bridge, and you were finally able to take a deep breath. There was a cloud of death that hung over that bridge.

You all sat there and watched for a few moments before Dean turned off the impala. Suddenly, he reached over and opened the glovebox. He grabbed out a small box full of fake ID cards that had his and John's pictures on them. You sighed and leaned back in your seat.

"They're gonna get suspicious if all three of us go up," you said as Dean rifled through the box.

"Then stay in the car," he answered quickly, not looking up.

"I have to get to the bridge to get anything."

"Then just go to the edge of the bridge and do your thing while Sam and I go talk to them," Dean said as he pulled out an ID from the pile before shoving the box back in the glovebox, "let's go," he said as he opened his door and climbed out of the impala.

Sam turned to you with his mouth hung open in surprise, "fake ID's? Really?" he asked, obviously annoyed with Dean.

"They're helpful," you said with a nod, "I don't like using them all that much, though," you added quickly when he shook his head disapprovingly. 

The air felt heavy as you stepped out of the impala. You couldn't pinpoint how many people had died on that bridge, but you knew it had to be many. At least one, by the looks of the empty car and confused looking cops. Sam's door shutting loudly made you force yourself to start walking. You and Sam caught up with Dean, and you took your usual place in-between the brothers, walking quickly to keep in stride with them.

"You guys find anything?" you heard a man on the right side of the bridge yell down to what you assumed were men combing the river.

"No! Nothing!" was the distant and echoed response.

Once you reached the beginning of the bridge, you slowed and departed from the brothers, heading to the left. Sam and Dean continued walking toward the blue car and the cops. You heard them begin talking with the officers, but their voices faded away as you neared the edge of the bridge. You reached out and placed your hands on the railing, using them to brace yourself as you leaned over to look down into the rushing river water.

A wave of anger washed over you, similar to the one you had felt before, when you listened to the EVP on John's voicemail. It was accompanied by a bitter sadness, and this time it was much more intense. It suddenly shifted into grief, then all you felt was cold, as if someone had dumped a bucket of the river water on your head. You shivered as a name appeared in your mind. You turned quickly to look for Sam and Dean, spotting them walking back toward the start of the bridge. You began to speed walk over to them. You watched Dean take step in front of Sam, and turned to face him as they stopped walking. They looked like they are arguing again. You shook your head as you stomped over.

"I need a pen," you demanded as you walked up to them.

"Woah, are you okay?" Sam said as he look at you, concern etched into his features.

"I'm fine, I just need a pen," you repeated, "I got a name."

"Y/N, you're crying," Sam said as he pulled his sleeve up over his thumb and wiped your left cheek while you reached up and wiped you right; sure enough there was a trail were tears had streamed down your face.

"I didn't even know I was. I don't think it was really me crying, anyway. She made me feel how she felt before she died, if that makes any sense," you rambled on as Sam wiped the rest of your tears away before taking a step back, and you didn't fail to notice the raised eyebrow look Dean gave you and Sam.

You were about to raise your hand to hit Dean on the arm, but you heard an authoritative voice come from your right that stopped you, "can I help you three?"

You turned to see the sheriff with two tall FBI agents standing behind him. All three of them stared down at you through their sunglasses. You typically didn't let cops rattle you, but the FBI were a different story. You did your best to stand up tall and stare them down right back. The sheriff looked the three of you over, his eyes landing on you.

"No, sir. We were just leaving," Dean told him.

The FBI agents didn't seem to have time for you, as they ignored Dean and walked around him, "Agent Mulder. Agent Scully," Dean joked as they passed him.

You wound back and slapped him in the arm. He laughed and rubbed his bicep as the three of you walked past the sheriff. You could feel his eyes on you as you left. Dean finally pulled out a pen and handed it to you as you walked back to the impala. You spread out your palm and wrote down the name you had been given earlier.

"Constance Welch," you said to them as you held your hand out for both of them to see.

"Who's that?" Dean asked.

"The girl who made me cry," you tried to make a joke out of it, but Sam's lips pressed into a thin line, and his brows furrowed; he never liked when the ghosts affected you like that, "I think she's the spirit that's killing the guys," you added, quickly.

"Well, we'll have to go dig up some more information. They mentioned something about the girlfriend of the kid who died. We can go talk to her and ask her a couple questions, try to figure out why he was killed," Dean explained as the three of you got into the impala.

"Are we gonna go wave fake badges in her face?" you asked, not sure if that was the best idea, "maybe Sam and I can talk to her while you go look up Constance," you suggested, and Dean glanced at you in the rearview mirror before nodding.

"Alright, fine. But I better not get stuck with the busywork next time," he said with a huff.

JERICHO, CALIFORNIA

The sidewalks were mostly empty as the impala slowly rolled down the main road of town. It was still fairly early in the day, but you expected more people to be out. It was the weekend after all. When you saw the sign above the closed movie theater, it made sense why the streets were mostly barren. 'EMERGENCY TOWN HALL MEETING; SUNDAY 8 PM; BE SAFE OUT THERE,' was the message to all the townsfolk.

"I'll bet you that's her," Dean nodded to a girl taping a pink paper on the brick wall just to the left of the theater.

Dean drove a few more feet before pulling up to the side of the road. You and Sam hopped out, and you leaned down to look at Dean through the open passenger door.

"I'll call you when we're done," you told him and he nodded.

You stood up straight and Sam shut his door. You turned and walked the few steps toward the girl. You tried not to seem too intimidating, but with Sam standing at 6'4, that was a bit of a challenge. You hoped his young face and signature puppy dog eyes would help your cause. She taped a missing poster to the wall that read 'MISSING TROY SQUIRE' underneath a smiling photo of Troy. You noticed the other missing posters that were hung up too, and you quickly realized they were all of the pervious victims you had seen in Dean's file.

"You must be Amy," you said as you approached her.

"Yeah," she replied flatly, not looking up as she secured the paper to the wall with another piece of tape.

"Yeah, Troy must have told you about us. I'm his aunt Y/N, and this is his uncle Sam," you explained to the girl with a smile.

"He never mentioned you to me," she said before turning and walking away, but you were quick to walk in stride with her.

"Well, that's Troy I guess," you said, adding in a fake chuckle, "we're not around much, we're up in Modesto."

"We're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around," Sam said as he took a step in front of her to stop her from walking any further.

Another girl came up to Amy, gently placing a hand on her arm, "hey, are you okay?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," Amy said with a nod, never taking her eyes off Sam.

"You mind if we ask you a couple questions?" he asked her, and she nodded.

Amy and her friend, who introduced herself as Rachel, led you down the street to a diner. It was mostly empty, other than an older couple sitting at a booth in the back right. You also noticed a seemingly bored waitress standing by the counter. She barely even noticed the four of you walk in, too busy looking down at her cellphone. Amy and Rachel slid into a booth in the far left of the diner. You and Sam slid into the side opposite them. Amy waved down the waitress and you and Sam ordered coffee, while the girls ordered sodas.

"What happened the night Troy disappeared?" you asked her gently.

"I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did," she told you, on the verge of tears.

"He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?" Sam asked.

"No. Nothing I can remember."

Amy fidgeted nervously with the charm of her necklace; it was a black pentagram. Sam took the words right out of your mouth before you could speak them.

"I like your necklace."

"Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents," She laughed, "with all that devil stuff."

You and Sam both chuckled. He glanced at you, and you shared a look of understanding.

"Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing." Sam explained to Amy.

"Did Troy believe in or practice anything satanic? Or was the necklace just a harmless gift?" you asked her, trying to get any sort of lead.

"It was a just a gift. I think he ordered it off the internet," she told you with a shrug.

"Well, the way Troy disappeared, somethin's not right. If either of you know anything..." Sam trailed off.

Amy and Rachel slowly turned and looked at each other.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk," Rachel replied.

You and Sam spoke in tandem, "what do they talk about?" you'd be lying if you said you hadn't missed Sam always knowing what you were going to say.

Rachel paused, glancing over at Amy before she rested her elbows on the table and leaned in, speaking quietly, "It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago," the name Constance Welch flashed in your mind as Rachel spoke, "Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever," you glanced over at Sam who was listening intently.

"Well, let's hope it's just a legend, yeah? Thank you for answering our questions. If you think of anything else that could help," you paused as you grabbed a napkin from the holder and pulled out the pen that Dean had given you earlier, "don't be afraid to call," you wrote your phone number down on the napkin and handed it to her, smiling warmly.

"Thank you for your time," Sam said and you almost laughed at how diplomatic he sounded.

You and Sam slid out of the booth and headed for the front door. The bell above the door dinged as Sam opened it, letting you go through first. You noticed the sun starting to slowly slip below the horizon. The breeze didn't do much to cool you off, the humid air making your forehead slick with sweat. You used the back of your hand to wipe off as much moisture from your face as you could. You gestured for Sam to follow you as you started walking down the road toward the motel you had seen earlier. You pulled your cell phone out as you walked and flipped it open, quickly finding Dean's contact. You pressed call and brought the phone up to your ear. It rang twice before he picked up.

"You get anything?" he asked you eagerly.

You didn't think twice about his lack of greeting, instead you answered his question immediately, "you probably got more than we did. We got told a local legend of a woman who was murdered on Centennial, and her ghost hitchhikes and picks up poor suckers who never get seen again," you told him, but you had a feeling he was going to fill you in on the missing pieces.

"They almost got it right. Funny how much a story can change over twenty years" Dean said, more to himself than to you.

"Hold on," you said before pulling the phone away from your ear and putting him on speakerphone, "What actually happened?" you asked him.

"She committed suicide. Jumped off the bridge where they found that kids car."

"So it's gotta be her... Did it say why she did it?"

Dean sighed sadly, "the article said she left her kids in the bathtub and they drowned. She had called 911 but it had already been too late. They found her an hour later in the river."

"Geez, no wonder I felt so much grief," you muttered, more to yourself, but Sam heard it all too clearly, "did the article say where she's buried?" you asked, deciding to ignore the concerned look Sam was giving you.

"No, but it had her husbands name. Joseph Welch. If we find him I'm sure he can tell us where she's buried."

"Alright. It's getting late, though. We can meet at the motel we passed earlier and get a room for the night," you said, realizing how much your body was aching.

"Want me to head back and pick you guys up?"

"Nah, we're almost there. I can see it. Just meet us there."

"Will do. See you soon."

"See you soon," you echoed before closing your phone and shoving it back in your pocket.

There was a long pause before Sam spoke, "Are you feeling okay?"

Sam knew how drained you could feel after channeling a ghost like you did on the bridge, especially an extremely vengeful spirit like Constance. The more you thought about how exhausted you were, your limbs felt heavier.

"I'm alright, just tired," you told him, but you could see in his furrowed brow expression that he didn't believe you, "a few hours of sleep should fix me right up," you added, somewhat sarcastically.

You had just made it to the front office when you heard the all too familiar roar of the impala's engine. You turned to see Dean pull into the parking lot and park in the first parking spot he could find. He hopped out with a gloating smile, happy that he had uncovered more than the two of you. You wanted to remind him who got the name in the first place.

"Lets just get a room," you said before Dean could start gloating aloud.

The three of you walked into the office of the motel. An older looking gentleman was stood behind the counter with a polite smile. Dean pulled his fake credit card out of his wallet and dropped it down on the counter.

"One room, please," he told the clerk, his proud smile still spread wide across his face.

The man picked up the fake credit card, looking down at it before glancing up at Dean, "you guys having a reunion or something?"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked him.

"I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month," Sam and Dean shared a look.

"Which room was it?" you asked sweetly, hoping the man didn't get too suspicious.

"Number one. I only remember because he was so damn adamant about having it," he told you as he ran Dean's credit card and handed it back along with your room key.

"Thank you," you said before practically dragging the brothers out of the office, "let's get settled into our room, then we can check out John's room in a little bit. That guy might be keeping an eye out."

Sam and Dean agreed. The three of you grabbed your bags from the impala before bringing them to your room. You waited for the sun to fully set before the three of you started getting impatient. You were the first one out the door, checking to make sure that the coast was clear before the brothers followed. You walked down to the door of room one, standing shoulder to shoulder with Dean, your backs to the door as Sam knelt down to pick the lock. It only took him about thirty seconds before you heard the lock click from behind you. You turned as Sam reached out and grabbed Dean's shoulder, yanking him back into the room. You stepped in quickly after. Sam shut the door behind you as your eyes scanned the room.

"Woah," you mumbled as you both looked around the room.

There were newspaper clippings, printed articles, and photos hung on almost every inch of the walls of the motel room. There are books and papers scattered across every surface. Dean flicked a lamp on, leaning down to sniff a discarded burger underneath the light. He recoiled in disgust.

"I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least," Dean observed.

"I think you're right," you replied as you walked to the far wall, making sure to step over the salt line that blocked the door.

Sam leaned down and poked at the salt on the floor, "salt, cats eye shells. He was worried, trying to keep something from coming in," he said as he stood up straight, before walking over to stand by Dean, "what have you got here?" Sam asked his brother, who was looking at a line of papers hung up on the wall.

"Centennial Highway victims," Dean replied, looking over the obituaries to make sure there weren't any he'd missed, "I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities," Sam crossed the room to stand next to you as Dean spoke, "there's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?"

You and Sam noticed the photos and papers hung on the wall in front of you, and it confirmed what you had already been suspicious of. Sam reached out and turned on the lamp in front of you.

"Dad figured it out," Sam said simply.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked as he turned.

"He found the same article we did. Constance Welch," Sam said, pointing at the article hung on the wall.

"She's a woman in white," you said when Dean's brows furrowed in confusion.

"You sly dogs," Dean said as he looked back at the articles of the missing men.

"The caption of the photo says Joseph Welch was thirty. The article dates to 1981, so he must be..." you paused, doing the math in your head, "sixty-four!" you said, hopeful.

"If he's still alive," Sam spoke what was on all your minds.

"We can worry about it tomorrow. I need at least a couple hours so I don't fall over," you said, a yawn enunciating your words.

"Didn't get enough beauty sleep in the car? You had the whole backseat to yourself," Dean teased as he walked to the door.

"That backseat is not as comfy for sleeping as you think it is," you protested as you stepped over the salt line.

"Better than nothing," Dean was just trying to piss you off, but unfortunately it was working.

"Well, no shit, jackass. But my neck is killing me and I'd love to sleep in a real bed," you pushed past Dean and out the door, checking to make sure no one was outside before leaving.

You got into the room first, taking your opportunity to enter the bathroom and have a quick shower before Dean used up all the hot water. You had the water running and the door closed when you heard Sam and Dean enter the room. You could heard Dean's muffled voice from the other side of the door You heard only a garbled mess of words until you heard your name. You quietly crept up to the bathroom door, pressing your ear up against it. Their voices were quieter now, but you were sure you had heard Dean say your name. You decided it probably wasn't best to ease drop. You couldn't hear what they were saying anyway. You gave up, stepping away from the door and continuing with your shower.

Dean was already passed out in one of the two king sized beds by the time you were out of the bathroom. You chuckled at his loud snoring as you stuffed your dirty clothes into your duffel bag. Sam was sat at the small table near the window, looking down at his phone. You stood awkwardly, wringing your hands as you contemplated what to say or do.

"The bathroom's free if you want to take a shower," you said finally.

Sam jumped slightly, looking a bit startled. He hadn't noticed you come out of the bathroom. Were you that sneaky or was he that distracted? You guessed it was a bit of both.

"Oh, thanks, but I'm good."

"Alright," you glanced at Dean, then back at Sam, "I don't think you'll want to share with him, so you can share with me," you felt your ears warming up but you did your best to ignore it.

"After having to sit in the front seat with him all day, I'd rather not have to deal with him hogging the covers all night. Thank you," Sam said gratefully, but he made no move to get into the bed, instead looking back down at his phone.

You nodded before walking over to the empty bed, laying on the right side. You left the side facing Dean's bed for Sam.

"Goodnight, Sam."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

~~~~~~~~~

You're sat on the floor, your father's head in your lap. Your hands are slick with his blood as you hold the sides of his face.

"Dad? Are you okay? Dad, please wake up! Dad!"

You jolted awake, sitting up straight as you looked around your unfamiliar surroundings. Your eyes met Sam's as he stood next to the bed, his hand on your shoulder.

"Nightmare?" you can barely hear him over your heart pounding in your ears.

You nodded as you took in a shaky breath. Sam's hand moved to your back, rubbing in soft circles. It actually helped ground you, and you were able to catch your breath fairly quickly. Dean came out of the bathroom as Sam let his hand fall from your back.

"You okay?" he asked you and you nodded quickly.

"I'm just gonna get ready," you mumbled, feeling awkward having both of them looking at you worriedly.

You stood and walked over to your duffel bag, grabbing out a change of clothes and heading into the bathroom. You could hear Sam and Dean's hushed voices as you got dressed. They went silent a few moments before you exited the bathroom. Sam was sat on the bed as he listened to a voicemail from who you assumed to be Jessica. You watched Dean pull on his jacket.

"Hey, man, I'm starving. I'm gonna grab a little something to eat at that diner down the street. You want anything?" Dean asked Sam.

"No," he replied.

"Aframian's buying," Dean joked.

Sam only shook his head, and Dean sighed, turning to you.

"You hungry? Wanna go get some greasy diner food?" he asked enthusiastically.

"For breakfast? I'm hoping for some pancakes or something," you said as you looked around for your own jacket, "we'll see you in a bit, Sam," you stopped yourself from calling him 'Sammy,' but you can see in his eyes that he caught your almost slip up.

"Mhm," he hummed in response as you and Dean headed out the door.

You walked with Dean across the parking lot toward the impala. You looked to the right when you felt someone looking at you. You saw the motel clerk talking with a couple cops. The clerk pointed at you and Dean when he saw you.

"Shit," you muttered as you turned to face away from the cops.

Dean mirrored your movements, standing shoulder to shoulder with you as he pulled his phone out, "dude, five-o. Take off," you heard Dean say into the phone.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again, "uh, they kinda spotted us. Go find Dad," Dean closed his phone and stuck it in his jacket pocket before the he spun around to face the cops, bumping your shoulder with his to make you turn around too.

"Problem, officers?" Dean said with a shit eating grin that you wanted to smack right off his face.

"Where's your partner?" the cop crossed his arms over his chest as he looked from Dean to you, eyeing you suspiciously.

"Partner? What, what partner?" Dean asked innocently.

The cop jerked his thumb toward your motel room, silently ordering his partner to search the room. He obeyed, walking to the door before opening it and going inside. You felt your palms begin to sweat as you watched him enter the room, worried that he would come back out with Sam in handcuffs. Your eyes darted back toward the cop standing in front of you. He stood still as a statue, staring you down. You did your best to stand your ground and try not seem a nervous as you were.

"So, fake U.S. Marshal, fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?" the cop asked Dean.

Dean paused, as if debating his response, "My boobs," he finally replied with a toothy grin that showed he was satisfied with his answer.

The cop shoved Dean's shoulder roughly, forcing him to turn around. He pressed his hand in between Dean's shoulder blades, slamming him down against the hood of the car with a thud while his other hand went to his belt to grab his cuffs.

"Turn around with your hands against the hood of the car, please," the cop ordered you through gritted teeth.

You did what he said, not wanting to piss him off anymore than Dean had already done. He cuffed Dean before cuffing you, pressing your cheek against the hood of the impala. You must have looked incredibly annoyed, because Dean's slightly amused smile quickly disappeared.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law," the cop read you your rights as you continued to glare at Dean.

You always hated dealing with the cops. Everytime Dean got the two of you arrested, you hated them even more. Cops didn't believe in monsters and ghosts, so they were always a hinderance, rather than a help. You had a funny feeling that this sheriff was going to get on your nerves. They had thrown you and Dean in separate interview rooms. The sheriff had asked your name and age, which you gave fake answers to both. He had left you to go interrogate Dean.

He was gone for a few minutes before he entered the room again. He was holding a file box full of papers and folders. You assumed they were the things that had been hung up on the walls of John's motel room. He dropped it onto the table before dropping down a notebook in front of you. You immediately recognized it, but you did your best to make sure your face didn't reflect that.

"So you want to give me your real name?" he asked as he leaned against the table.

"I already told you. It's Sandra Nugent," you reiterated to the sheriff, who was looking increasingly annoyed.

"You could be in a lot of trouble here, you know that? Unless you cooperate with me. If you tell me what your boyfriend and his partners have been doing, maybe I can help you out," you wanted to laugh at how desperate he sounded.

"You don't have any evidence on us," you replied stubbornly.

"Ya'll got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall. Along with a whole lot of Satanic mumbo-jumbo. You and your buddy in there are officially suspects."

"Right, because when the first one went missing in '82, before I was even born," you deadpanned.

"I know you've got partners. One of 'em's an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing. So tell me... Y/N is it?" you must have looked surprised, because he opened John's notebook that was sat on the table and began flipping through it slowly, "I thought that might be your name. I got Dean's name fairly quickly, but yours I wasn't so sure about. See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out. I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy," he flipped through until he was almost at the end, stopping and leaning back so you could see the page he had flipped to, "but I found this, too."

You looked down at the page. It was mostly blank other than Deans name scrawled in John's handwriting, along with 35-111 underneath it. The message was circled hastily.

"No one is going anywhere until one of you can tell me what the hell that means," he tapped the message on the paper with his index finger.

"I don't know what it means. It looks like it might be a locker combo or something," you said with a shrug.

The sheriff was getting red faced, and you were sure Dean had told him the same things. This wasn't your first rodeo. Before he could question you any more, there was a knock at the door. It opened a second later. A young cop stuck his head into the room.

"We just got a 911, shots fired over at Whiteford Road," he told the sheriff.

"You have to go to the bathroom?" the Sheriff asked you.

"No," you replied.

"Good."

He promptly cuffed you to the table. You struggled against the cuffs slightly, the metal digging into the skin of your wrist. The sheriff left and shut the door behind him. Through the small window in the interrogation room door, you could see all the cops scrambling to leave. You looked around, trying to find a way out, when you noticed a paper clip sticking out of John's journal.

You reached out and grabbed it. You unbent it and used it to pick the lock on your handcuffs. You did your best to remember what Sam taught you, and soon you were free. You grabbed John's journal off the table and crept over to the door. You peered through the small window and waited until all the cops had cleared out before trying the door. It was surprisingly unlocked. You went to the interrogation room next door, opening it to reveal Dean handcuffed to the table.

"Well look at you, ya' little escape artist! How did you manage that?" Dean asked as you entered the room.

You held up the straightened paper clip for him to see before getting to work on unlocking his handcuffs. He laughed in amusement as you freed him.

"He made it pretty easy," you said with a shrug, handing him John's journal, "now come on, let's get outta here before they come back."

The two of you crept through the police station, careful not to let anyone see you. It seemed like they had all hands on deck though, because the place looked almost deserted. You managed to find your cell phones on the sheriff's desk. You were sure the receptionist would still be at the front desk, so you searched around for window or a back exit. You quickly found a window that let to the fire escape.

You unlocked it and pulled it open before climbing out onto the fire escape. You gestured for Dean to follow, and he did so without hesitation. Dean climbed down first before you climbed down after him. The two of you made sure the coast was clear of any cop cars before walking down the sidewalk, headed for the town exit. You weren't sure which way Sam had gone or where he was, but you needed to get the hell out of dodge before the cops found you again. The sidewalk ended at the exit of town, and Dean pulled his cellphone out to call Sam.

"Fake 911 phone call? I don't know, Sammy, that's pretty illegal," he said as he put it on speakerphone so you could hear Sam too.

"You're welcome," Sam's voice came through the shitty speaker of Deans phone.

"Listen, we gotta talk," Dean started, but Sam was quick to reply.

"Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop," Sam explained.

"Sammy, would you shut up for a second?" Dean tried to stop his brother from speaking.

"I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet," Sam continued, ignoring Dean's words.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you! He's gone. Dad left Jericho."

"What? How do you know?"

"We've got his journal," you told him.

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing," Sam said slowly.

"Yeah, well, he did this time," Dean said.

"What's it say?" Sam asked.

"The same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going."

"Coordinates," Sam said, immediately understanding what Dean meant, "Where to?"

"We aren't sure yet. We didn't have much time to look while we were running from the cops," you said, annoyance evident in your tone, but it was more directed at Dean.

"I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? What the hell is going on?"

You heard the screech of tires skidding on the road through the phone before a quiet thud.

"Sam? Sam!" Dean yelled into the phone frantically.

"Take me home," you heard Constance's soft voice come through the phone, and your hand flew up to clutch your head as the image of a house appeared in your mind.

"Y/N? What is it? Are you alright?" Dean stopped walking to put his hand on your shoulder.

You squeezed your eyes shut tight as you examined the house. It felt like a memory, but you knew you had never seen the house before. You quickly realized it had to be a memory from Constance. It must be her old house where Sam said she was buried.

"The house," you said, "We have to go to the house. That's where she's taking him," you said as you opened your eyes and lifted your head to look at Dean.

"We don't know where the house is!" he cried out, more in fear than in anger.

"I do. Follow me," you didn't elaborate and instead you turned and started jogging, knowing the house wasn't too far from you.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Dean asked as he easily caught up to jog next to you.

"I'm fine, but Sam isn't gonna be if we don't hurry up," you said before picking up the pace.

You and Dean were now running as fast as your legs could manage. You eventually cut through the tree line, coming out into a clearing. You could see the house in the distance, with the impala stopped out front. You could see Sam sitting in the front seat. As you got closer, you could see the ghostly figure above Sam. You quickly recognized the long wavy hair to belong to Constance.

"Cover your ears!" Dean shouted as you ran.

Your hands flew up to cover ears. You had been hunting with the Winchester brothers long enough to know that if one of them said to do something, you did it without question. You heard the muffled sound of a gun shot as you saw the front windows of the impala shatter. Constance disappeared for a moment before reappearing, turning to glare at the two of you. You felt your spine shudder in fear at the anger that radiated off her. Dean continued to shoot until she disappeared for good. You had just made it to the impala when you saw Sam sit up. He reached out and turned the keys in the ignition, making the car rumble to life.

"I'm taking you home," he said breathlessly before he pressed on the gas.

"Sam!" Dean yelled after him as the impala lurched forward and smashed through the front wall of the house with a loud crash.

You and Dean ran up the porch stairs and through the now giant hole in the side of the house. You stepped over the rubble and toward the impala that had stopped in the middle of what looked to be the remnants of a living room.

"Sam?" Dean called out as he ran to the passenger side of the car, "Sam! You okay?" Dean asked as he leaned in through the window.

"I think..." you heard Sam say from inside the car as you walked over.

"Can you move?" Dean asked as he tried to get the passenger door open.

"Yeah. Help me?"

Dean yanked the passenger door open before leaning inside the car and reaching out for Sam. He pulled him out and up onto his feet and brushed the dust off his shoulders.

"There you go," Dean said.

The three of you turned and saw Constance on the other side of the room, holding a large framed photo. She finally noticed you, glaring daggers as she threw the picture to the floor. It clattered loudly as the three of you stared dumbly. Suddenly, her hand lifted and she made a gesture that caused a dresser to slide across the room and pin you against the side of the impala. The wind got knocked out of you as you tried to push the dresser away, but there was an unseen force holding it in place. Sam and Dean were too stubborn to stop trying. Constance took a step forward, a look of malice in her eyes. You were anticipating her next move, when suddenly the lights flickered and buzzed. You watched Constance turn and walk to the base of the stairs that now had water pouring down them like a waterfall.

"You've come home to us, Mommy," you heard a boy and girl say in unison.

Suddenly, the spirits of Constance's children appeared behind her. They wrapped their arms around her in one final hug as the lights surged. You shielded your eyes as Constance screamed. You watched from under your forearm as the three of their spirits sunk slowly into the floor, disappearing and leaving only a puddle of water behind. Sam and Dean pushed the dresser over, and it clattered loudly to the floor. It kicked up a cloud of dust that made you cough. You walked over to examine the puddle, Sam and Dean close behind you. You all stared down at the floor in silence, trying to collect your thoughts. You were trying to brush off the residual rage that Constance had left behind.

"So this is where she drowned her kids," Dean said, breaking the silence.

"That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them," Sam confirmed.

"You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy," Dean clapped Sam on the chest where Constance had dug her fingers into his chest, presumably to rip out his heart; Sam laughed through the pain it caused him.

"Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

"I was just thinking the same thing," you added.

"Hey. Saved your ass," Dean said he walked over to the impala, leaning down to inspect the damage, "I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?" he turned to point at Sam menacingly, "I'll kill you," Sam laughed as you gave Dean a 'what the fuck?' look.

"You literally shot the windows out! I doubt Sam did more damage than you did to your own car," you said as you walked over to stand next to Dean, noticing the busted out headlight.

Fortunately, the impala still ran. The front windows were shattered, and the right headlight needed replacing, but it wasn't anything that couldn't be fixed. She'd been through worse, is what Dean had said.

~~~~~~~~~

You were leaned over the backrest of Sam's seat, looking at the map he had sitting open in his lap. He was trying to find the location of the coordinates that John had left. It didn't take him long to circle a spot on the map.

"Okay, here's where Dad went. It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado," Sam said and Dean nodded.

"Sounds charming. How far?" Dean asked.

"About six hundred miles," Sam replied.

"Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by tonight!" Dean said excitedly.

"Dean, I, um..." Sam trailed off, and you sat back in your seat, knowing where this was going.

"You're not going," Dean said simply.

"The interview's tomorrow morning. I gotta be there."

"Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home."

You had the sudden realization that your bags were still in your motel room. It wasn't difficult to convince Dean to drive back to the motel. You and Sam managed to sneak in and grab your stuff without being spotted. Dean sped to the highway to make sure the cops didn't catch you again.

None of you spoke for the rest of the drive. It was only a few hours, and the sun had set by the time you had arrived at Sam's apartment complex. Dean stopped out front and Sam opened the door and got out, shutting it behind him. He turned to lean in through the window as you climbed over the backrest to sit in the front seat. Once you were sat, you looked over at Sam, noticing how close he was.

"Call me if you find him?" Sam asked, and Dean nodded, "And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?" his eyes went from Dean to you, and you nodded with a smile.

"Yeah, all right," Dean replied, still frowning slightly.

Sam patted the door twice, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stood up straight. He turned around and started to walk away. Dean set his arm on the backrest behind you, leaning forward slightly to look out the passenger window.

"Sam?" Dean called out.

Sam looked over his shoulder, "yeah?"

"You know, we all made a hell of a team back there," he said with a smirk, glancing at you.

Sam nodded with a small smile before Dean turned back to look at the road as he pressed on the gas. You didn't dare turn to look, instead you tried to catch a glimpse of Sam in the crooked side mirror. You could see his tall figure looming in the shadows. There was a sense of foreboding that you couldn't shake as you drove away. You were only on the road for a few minutes. Sam's apartment building had just barely faded in the distance. You turned and saw Dean's furrowed brows as he glanced between his watch and the road.

"What?" you questioned him.

"I think my watch stopped working."

A wave of dread washed over you as your heart dropped into your stomach. It felt like every inch of your skin was covered in goosebumps. You swallowed hard around the lump rising in your throat.

"Dean, turn around and go back. Now," you said firmly.

Dean didn't have to be told twice. He immediately pulled a u-turn and headed back toward Sam's apartment. You could feel the evil radiating off the building even before you saw it come into view. Dean pressed down on the gas harder, going well above the speed limit. He pulled into the parking lot and skidded to a stop in front of the door. You both hopped out of the impala but he stopped you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

"Stay here, I'll be right back," he said quickly before turning and running into the building.

You looked up to see flames and smoke emitting from an upstairs window. Your stomach churned as you pulled out your phone to call 911. You put the phone to your ear, and spoke to the operator about the fire, who told you they were sending a fire truck. You could hear the fire alarm going off before Sam and Dean even made it outside. Just as your chest was starting to ache with worry, you saw them emerge, Dean practically dragging Sam along. Sam fell into your waiting arms, and you used all your strength to keep him somewhat standing. He had wrapped his arms around you and had shoved his face into the crook of your neck. Dean stood a few feet away, coughing loudly. He put up his hand and made it into a faux phone, shaking it next to his ear with furrowed brows, silently asking if you had called the police. You nodded as you hugged Sam tightly, rubbing his back with one hand and petting his hair softly with the other.

The fire fighters didn't take long to get there. They managed to tame the flames fairly quickly, leaving most of the apartment complex intact. Sam had detached from you before they had arrived, wiping his eyes and sitting on the trunk of the impala. He didn't speak a word to you. Only when Sam was talking with the cops was when you got part of the story from Dean.

"She was... on the ceiling," he told you slowly.

"Like... Like how your mom died?" you asked gently.

Dean nodded and you felt your chest tighten as your heart rate quickened. You shook your head as you looked over to the building. Smoke was still billowing out into the night sky, blocking the few stars you could see from view. You and Dean were stood side by side at the back of the crowd of onlookers that had grown at the edge of the police tape. The red lights of the fire truck were still flashing, and they were starting to give you a headache. You turned away from the building to head back to the impala. Dean had pulled it off to the side of the road a few yards away. Sam was stood in front of the open trunk. You saw him loading a shotgun as you approached.

You didn't want to pity him, knowing it would only make him feel worse. When you saw the tear stains down his cheeks, you couldn't stop the sympathetic smile you gave him. He smiled weakly at you. Dean walked up next, giving Sam a look you couldn't place. You knew all the Winchester looks, but this one was foreign to you. Sam nodded at him before letting out shuddering breath, obviously knowing what his brother's look meant. You appreciated them getting along, but you didn't like to be excluded. Under different circumstances, you would have pestered them until they told you what telepathic messages they were sending each other. Instead, you stayed quiet, watching as Sam threw the now loaded shotgun into the trunk.

"We got work to do," he said before slamming the trunk shut.

[dearfuturehusbandblog]

ZMAN CHEIRUSEINU aka "I'M the terrible communicator!?!?!?!!"

Dear Future Husband,

I hope nobody ever quizzes me on this blog because there are so many things that I've started and stopped writing that never got posted that I literally never remember what I've actually put here...

Not that that's really fully relevant to what I was thinking about writing now, but I currently have two unfinished posts in my drafts folder (amidst 25 others that will probably never get posted) that are just a recap of this year so far.

Because I'm just a kid and life is a nightmare.

Explaining what's going on right now is kind of problematic because I haven't provided the lengthy backstory yet (which is one of the drafts I have yet to finish...)

Suffice to say, MotherLivelyHeart is being a nightmare to me again.

I think I've shared before that MLH and I share a vehicle? If not... yeah, we share a car. I'll have to look through my posts to see if I've explained that situation before, because that's one more thing to check off the "my life absolutely f*ing sucks" list.

Usually this isn't the worst thing in the world because we operate on different schedules and there isn't much crossover when it comes to who needs the car when, and when there is I usually drop her off somewhere, do what I need to do, and pick her up after.

For the record, I HATE when she offers the opposite because I have a history of being abandoned in places waiting for her to pick me up and it gives me such severe anxiety.

So last week on Sunday I asked MLH what her plans were for the next day. I asked this because I overheard a phone call she received on Friday from the dentist's office about an appointment she had on Monday at noon that she hadn't told me anything about and I knew if I was going to ever find out she was going to take the car, I would have to be the one to ask her. So I asked. And wouldn't you believe it, she had a dentist appointment on Monday at noon! Shocker.

Now, I'd been out of work since the beginning of January (again, details will hopefully be in another post) so I had a lot to take care of at work last Monday and I told her that.

We agreed she would have the car for her appointment and I would take the car to work when she got home.

Come Monday afternoon, suddenly everything has changed.

You see, her boss called in sick and she had the day off because she has a specific job that requires her to work alongside her boss and if he doesn't work, she doesn't work.

So she had the day off. Joy.

Of course, did she tell this to me directly? No.

Did she message me this information? No.

I'm just supposed to approach her and ask, "hey, did your boss call in sick and give you the day off?" I guess.

So she went to her appointment and ran some errands and called me while she was still out. Apparently some specific water bottles she can only get in like two places were available at one store about 20 minutes away from our house and she placed a pickup order so she could get them before they were sold out. The order had to be picked up between like 2:30-3:30pm and she called me at around 1:30.

Great.

She picked a pickup time that was directly during the time I was supposed to be at work.

Which she knew.

Because I told her this literally the day before.

So I told her fine. She should do the pickup order and when she got back I would take the car to work.

"Well, I also wanted to go swimming."

*Deep breath* Ok, what time is swimming?

"From 2-9pm."

At this point I didn't know how long I'd be at work because one of the things I had to take care of could be like 4-6 hours and I didn't know if there would be enough time when I was done to get home and let her get to the pool with enough time to swim before they closed.

"Ok, well why don't you go swimming, do the pickup order, and then I'll take the car to work?"

"Well, I want to come home and eat something first."

Ok. So now, what was supposed to be my time to take the car is going to be "stolen" by her coming home (15 minutes), eating something (15 minutes), going to swim (40 minutes), getting the pickup order (30 minutes), and coming back home (20 minutes).

This is TWO HOURS off of my time.

WHICH I HAD TOLD HER I NEEDED LITERALLY THE DAY BEFORE.

So she came home, ate something, and changed into her bathing suit. She left around 2pm for the pool.

I assumed at this point I'd hear from her around 3:30pm that she was around the corner.

But 3:30 came and went.

4:00pm came and went.

4:30pm came and went.

5:00pm came and BigSis messaged that she would be done at work in an hour and could either of us give her a ride home?

MOTHERF@*$%^#$ER

So it's been three hours without an update from MLH, but then she responds "I should be on my way back from the pickup order then."

EXCUSE ME!?!?!?!

She left for the pool at 2pm. THREE HOURS have gone by and she hasn't even gotten the pickup order that was supposed to be picked up between 2:30-3:30pm!?!?!?!!?!?

But she tells me that I'M a terrible communicator.

I was supposed to get the car by 1:30pm latest. It was now after 5pm and I STILL hadn't gotten to work yet.

As much as I hate when she offers to drop me off at work so she can take care of things that will take a few hours, SHE DIDN'T EVEN ASK ME THAT. She made it seem like I would have the car all afternoon to take care of what I needed to at work. And when her plans shifted, she made it seem like I'd have the car by 3:30pm latest.

And let me remind you THAT I TOLD HER THE DAY BEFORE WHAT MY SCHEDULE WAS SO THAT THIS S*** WOULDN'T HAPPEN.

But I'M the terrible communicator.

At that point I was so frickin annoyed already. MLH messaged me "should I get her or just come home" and I was so peeved I said "just get her because if you come home and I take the car I'm not picking her up."

She didn't respond to that message.

Great.

No thumbs up. No "ok." Just nothing.

Then at 6:12pm I get a message from her "car's downstairs in front."

So no message from BigSis that MLH had picked her up and they were heading home. No "we're around the corner." No nothing except over an hour later "take it."

BUT I'M THE TERRIBLE COMMUNICATOR!?

At that point it was too late for me to do some of the things I needed to take care of for work because, again, I was supposed to have been there FIVE HOURS EARLIER. And a friend messaged and asked if I could go with her to Costco, so I said to hell with it and I went to Costco with her.

While I was at Costco I messaged both MotherLivelyHeart and BigSis about what I was getting so we were all on the same page. Included in that message was eggs because, well, I was getting eggs.

I got home at like 10pm and MotherLivelyHeart and BigSis were already asleep. I made a couple of mini salami kugels with some spinach that oddly floated to the top, waited for them to cool, tried 1/4 of one before sticking them in the fridge.

Next morning I open the fridge and there's a new carton of 1.5 dozen eggs. Because apparently MLH went to the supermarket early in the morning and got eggs because "we were out."

DESPITE ME LITERALLY MESSAGING THE NIGHT BEFORE THAT I WAS BUYING EGGS AT COSTCO.

Oh, but it gets better. Because the salami kugel I had tasted the night before was missing.

BigSis was working from home so I asked her about it and she said she had no clue.

So I asked MotherLivelyHeart about it, thinking maybe it slipped out of the fridge, smashed, and she threw it out.

But no.

Guess who ate it.

Yep, the woman who has been suffering from gout and avoiding meat for the better part of a year.

The woman who saw it in the fridge and said to herself "oh, that's one of the broccoli kugels LivelyHeart made for herself for Shabbos that she said wasn't good. I guess I'll eat that for breakfast without asking her if she really doesn't want it because although she's on a weird diet right now, there's no way she's made a meal plan for herself that includes this food item she made for herself."

Because, did she message me to ask if she could have it?

Nope.

Did she knock on my door to ask if she could have it?

Nope.

Halfway through eating it she realized it was salami.

And she still finished the whole thing.

And still at NO POINT did she message me AT ALL to even tell me that she ate it.

I had to find out by inquiring OF HER.

BUT. I'M. THE. TERRIBLE. COMMUNICATOR!?!?!?!

I shouldn't be mad.

It's just food, after all, right?

Except that it's not.

It's a frickin pattern of carelessness and disregard for me as a person.

And I'm so frickin sick of it.

I'm so damn tired.

It wouldn't have killed her to ask.

It wouldn't have killed her to apologize.

And what I haven't really explained here (because again, that's in a draft post) is that I've been on an elimination diet since January 1st which has cut most things from my available food selections.

But is she on an elimination diet?

Nope.

So we have a HOUSEFUL, a PANTRYFUL, and a FRIDGEFUL of food she can eat.

And she chooses the ONE thing I made FOR ME.

Which she KNEW I made for ME.

Instead of the MYRIAD OF THINGS that she can eat that I can't.

Which means that she's not only taken a meal from me, but now I'm at a food deficit from the fridge while she lives in abundance.

BUT. I'M. THE. TERRIBLE. COMMUNICATOR.

So let's leap forward to today.

Today was Shabbos mevorchim. Pesach is in two weeks.

And MotherLivelyHeart decided we are going to change over the kitchen two weeks ahead this year.

So she scheduled her cleaning lady to come tomorrow (Sunday) to help clean the kitchen so it can be turned over.

Did she take into account that this would be motzei Shabbos and that we'd have to make Shabbos and that would involve dirty dishes and use of the stove/oven and pots and pans?

Yeah, no.

Did she take into account that the way she wants to clean the oven requires the oven to be self-cleaned before and after which takes a good several hours and creates so much smoke that we'd have to keep the windows open and also it's like 40F right now and she also wanted to go to sleep early because the cleaning lady is coming at like 8am?

Yeah, no.

BigSis went over the oven cleaning thing with her and she exclaimed "are you kidding me?! Then why am I having the cleaning lady come tomorrow?!"

BECAUSE YOU SCHEDULED HER WITHOUT CONSULTING US.

BECAUSE THERE WAS NO COMMUNICATION.

DO YOU SEE A FRICKIN THEME HERE!?!?!!?

Oh, but there's more. Because there's always more.

Thursday was another nightmare day for various reasons. One of which was that I ran errands with MotherLivelyHeart.

She scheduled an appointment for smackdab in the middle of the time I told her I'd be working.

YES. AGAIN.

And she wanted to drop me off at work and pick me up when I was done.

Well absofrickinlutelynot, thankyouverymuch.

I was supposed to work until 6pm.

I had told customers I would be available until 6pm.

Her appointment was scheduled for 6pm.

So of course "I need the car at 5:30pm."

She wanted to drive me to work earlier so that she could take the car at 5:30pm to her appointment that wouldn't be done until 7pm and then come get me an hour and a half after I was done working.

But I was supposed to trust that she wouldn't run errands or dilly dally around and that she'd actually get me at 7:30pm, which we know is never the case.

So I told her no, I'd be taking the car to work. But I would notify the customers I'd only be there until 5:30pm, at which point I'd get her and drive her to her appointment. Then while she was in her appointment I could do the Shabbos shopping, since it seemed pointless to have to wait for her to come home again before I could go out and shop.

For various reasons, we had three stores we needed to go to, one of which was about 20 minutes in the opposite direction of where her appointment was. I figured I could go there first, then on my way back to get her I could run by the other two stores, get her and then we'd go straight home.

But no.

Because it was raining and people apparently don't know how to drive in the rain. So despite me taking the highway, which should have cut like 10 minutes out of the ride each way, it took me about 30 minutes to get to that first store, which I was in for maybe 10 minutes, and as I was checking out MLH messaged "my appointment is almost over, where are you at?"

So all I had time for was turning around and going straight to get her.

Which, fine, whatever.

One of the stores we went to literally just for chicken.

And it was chicken for her because she wanted a specific type of breaded chicken for Shabbos.

So I figured I'd run into the store and grab it while she stayed in the car.

But no.

Because while I was unbuckling, she was unbuckling. Because she decided to come in.

So she went to look at side salads and I went to the chicken section where I waited but she never showed up.

Then I get a message from her.

"Where are you?"

Excuse me???? WHERE ARE YOU, WOMAN???

I told her I was at the chicken section waiting for her and she said "I already checked out. I'm going back to the car."

WE LITERALLY WENT TO THIS STORE TO BUY HER CHICKEN.

SHE CAME IN WITH ME.

PRESUMABLY TO BUY HER CHICKEN.

But she's checked out already!? WITH WHAT!?

Oh. Apparently something to eat. Because she's hangry.

Which she, OF COURSE, DID NOT TELL ME.

Fine. Whatever.

So I bought her frickin chicken.

And then on the way home she got mad at me about three driving-related things that were out of my control (like the car started making a weird noise that might be the muffler, and there was a huge pothole I couldn't avoid, and I was coming to a stop at an intersection when some lady rounded the corner quickly and we barely missed colliding...) which resulted in her yelling at me that she hates the way I'm driving.

So, yeah, that was a fun ride home.

*EYEROLL*

Anyway, on the way to her appointment she said "we never worked out a Shabbos menu."

I told her the same thing I've told her almost every week over the last three months: I'm eating differently from you guys, so you just tell me what you want and I'll grab it from the store, because I already have set aside what I'm going to eat.

And she tells me "my boss has off tomorrow, so I can cook."

Which is perfectly fine in my eyes because I'm still recovering from an injury (again, that's one of the drafted posts...) and I also had a horrendous cold for the previous two weeks so I'm still trying to get back to baseline. Any pressure off me is appreciated.

We basically worked out that for shabbos we'd do a big soup for Friday night (which I would make), then she wanted chicken (obvs) and I had bought green beans at Costco I told her she could have, and then Shabbos lunch would be fish and salady stuff.

Well, Friday rolls around.

The day already sucked because I tried adding some vegetables back into my diet during the week that are apparently problematic for my digestion. Fun.

But then MotherLivelyHeart decides to stick to her arbitrary Pesach cleaning schedule which says to clean the milchig dishes she's had piling up all week. So of course she decides to do this at like noon and doesn't finish the job and there are still milchig dishes in the sink at 3pm when I need to go in and make the soup.

Add onto that, one of my "chores" is the pareve dishes, some of which have been piling up too and also need to be done, which she feels the need to remind me of, despite her milchig dishes still filling the sink.

So I go in around 3pm and just start cooking, using the small bit of counter space that's available to me.

She decides that's the perfect time to finish the milchig dishes.

FINE. WHATEVER.

She gets them out of the way and reminds me YET AGAIN about the pareve dishes.

FINEWHATEVER.

So around 4pm I'm back in the kitchen, doing the pareve dishes, of which I only got about half done because it was causing pain and I still had to cook.

So I pivoted and did the soup.

But nothing else had been cooked yet.

So I made the green beans.

And I had to separate the soups so I could add things to theirs that I can't eat.

At this point I'm still annoyed from her the day before, my insides are so unhappy with the newly tested foods, I'm in pain from the injury, and I'm trying to cook for Shabbos.

Around 6pm I asked BigSis if she could help with the chicken. She was like "I STILL HAVE TO SHOWER!!!" As though she didn't have all day for that and somehow me needing help is my fault. She said "if you had asked me like three hours ago I could have done it."

Except that three hours ago, the milchig dishes were still filling up the sink, so.... what exactly do you expect from me!?

Sometime a little earlier when MotherLivelyHeart had been in the kitchen it was clear I wasn't doing so well and she asked what was wrong and I described the pain and she was like "I'm sorry" and then disappeared.

So then she gets a "20 minutes to candle lighting" alarm on her phone, and she's been trying to light early in zchus of the hostages and chayalim, so she calls out "20 minutes to licht benchen." Which I responded to but she didn't hear, obviously, because she yelled again "LivelyHeart, did you hear me!?"

To which I responded an annoyed "YES!!" and she was like "you don't have to talk to me that way! I clearly didn't hear you. And BigSis and I can make Shabbos on our own, you know."

Which, MYGODWOMAN. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO.

My responsibility based on our conversation was the soup.

ZE HU.

SHE was supposed to do the chicken and the green beans and whatever else they wanted.

So now she's annoyed at me because I'm annoyed at her for not doing the thing she was supposed to do, but I'M the one in the wrong.

FINE. Whatever.

In the end I didn't do the chicken.

I literally didn't have the strength for it, let alone the energy.

Not that it was really missed at the meal, but she was a bit annoyed and gave me that same "BigSis and I can cook for Shabbos on our own, you know." To which I responded "You said you were going to cook." I literally don't even remember what her response was.

Well, fast forward through Shabbos to tonight because I asked her if she wanted the chicken for melava malka or if we should stick it in the freezer for a week since it's KFP.

She wanted it for melava malka.

Which, fine, whatever.

I told her if she could bread it, I would cook it.

She got gloves, she got bowls, she got the chicken, and she got eggs.

She did not get the other ingredients she needed for the breading. Or a plate to put it on. Or a fork.

She sat down at the table and then asked me to get the other ingredients.

Which, fine. Whatever.

I got an interesting piece of mail that I'll discuss in another post when I know more what's going on with it, but it basically called my attention to research something. So I was on my computer off to the side while she was breading the chicken.

The next thing I know, she's frying the chicken.

I went into the kitchen and asked her why she was frying it when I told her I would do it for her since cooking usually exhausts her, and she got all frustrated and exasperated at me and said something like "I DON'T HAVE ALL NIGHT TO WAIT FOR YOU."

And I was like, "what are you talking about!? I was waiting for you to finish breading it! you didn't tell me you were done!"

Which just pissed her off more.

BECAUSE. I'M. THE. TERRIBLE. COMMUNICATOR.

But this is the time of year we celebrate freedom, right?

This is the time of year we thank Hashem for rescuing us from a horrible situation.

Well, where's mine?

We're supposed to celebrate every year as though WE ALL left Mitzrayim.

As though we were ALL saved.

But I am not saved.

I have never been saved.

The stupidity I've just described above is just a piece of the insane patterning of my entire life.

I have no escape from this nonsense.

And I'm just so done with all of it.

I want it all to be over.

I want it all to go away.

Where's my freedom?

Where's my salvation?

I really have to finish those other two drafts, because this isn't even the clearest picture of what I've been dealing with since 2024 started. It's barely April and I just want this secular year to be over.

There are a couple of people who have suggested guys to me over the last several months and, although they're not really what I'm looking for, right now I just don't have the emotional energy for a new relationship. I'm just so burned out from this one that I deal with every frickin day of my stupid life, which of course I can't even tell these people.

So... dear future husband, I hope you can hang in there, because I don't know when I'll be ready for you.

But maybe by then I'll be a good communicator.

-LivelyHeart

And now for the story after the story:

So, after that disaster of a drive back from the store on Thursday night, we got home around 8:30pm and although she got something small to eat from that second supermarket I knew that MotherLivelyHeart hadn't eaten anything since lunch so when I made dinner for myself I made a second bowl for her. I brought it to her and she said "oh... you didn't have to do that." Not a lot of enthusiasm there.

She didn't eat it for about a half an hour, by which time it was probably cold, and the next thing I knew, she was in bed going to sleep without another word about how it was.

Now, I don't demand praise or feedback for anything I cook, but she usually makes a comment about whatever I make, so I found it odd that she was silent on the matter.

On Friday I went to ask her about something else and while I was talking to her I asked how her dinner was the night before and she said something along the lines of, "it was... interesting. ground chicken just doesn't cook well, it's not your fault. you prepared it well, it's just not that good. ground turkey is better."

No "thank you," no "it was sweet of you to think of me," no "I appreciate the effort especially considering that you're working through the pain right now."

Just meh.

I love when I'm appreciated.

[hypersonic04]

Part Six

I am SO sorry at the amount of time this took me to write. I am feeling inspired and excited to complete this series though, so watch. this. space. I also recommend listening to 'I Can See You' (TV) (FTV) whilst reading this because it is essentially that song that has fuelled this chapter.

Word Count: 2,746

"What's wrong? What's happened?"

I swing the door of the recording studio open harshly. My face feels flushed as I stand there, breathing heavily. Matty called me about twenty minutes ago, telling me to get to the studio ASAP in the name of an 'emergency'.

"It's fine, Ross has sorted it."

It's been six days since Ross left me in the middle of the pouring rain. No text message, no phone call, nothing. My stomach drops at the mention of his name, I've almost tried to pretend that he doesn't exist since that night.

"Seriously?" I huff, angry now.

"Yeah, it was just something with the software, could've lost everything." He says flippantly, glancing at me as i look at him in disbelief. "It's sorted now, though. Ross to the rescue, yet again."

I scoff at his choice of words, shaking my head and turning to leave.

"Oi," Matty's voice calls from behind me, "Why haven't you been in the studio this week?"

"I've just been busy." I turn to him, clearing my throat as I do so.

"Too busy for us?" He raises his eyebrows. "What, is it a guy? Is that why you've been acting weird?"

"No! No, it's not a guy." I feel my cheeks flush and wonder whether Ross has told him about our kiss the other night. I immediately squash that thought as I remember his attitude towards the whole thing, acting like it was a sin to have feelings, never mind a kiss.

"Then what is it? One minute you're really into it, the next you're barely answering my texts?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" I throw my arms in the air dramatically.

"It's not that you need to apologise, we're just worried about you. Me and the boys, I mean."

I swallow heavily, shifting my eyes around the room.

"Look, we're playing a show tomorrow night - please come." I look to Matty and see his dark eyes pleading, and I realise that I can't let some dickhead guy get in the way of what is not only a great work opportunity, but also a great friendship. "It's in Brixton, I can sort you out a car and everything."

"Yeah, I'll be there."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My palms are sweaty as I get ready, sat in front of the mirror. Ross and I haven't even remotely been near each other in over a week, yet those few seconds play like a stuck record in my head.

The way his stubble grazed against my soft skin. His thumbs pressed into my sides, burning through the fabric of my shirt, heat spreading across my body like wildfire. His aftershave, his lips, his tongue, him.

I snap myself out of my daydream, cheeks flushing at the way my stomach tosses and turns at the mere thought of him. I shouldn't feel like this - I should be angry, I should never want to see him ever again. After his outburst at the horrifying reality of our kiss, he disappeared, turning around and heading back down the road we'd walked up, ignoring the call of his name. He left me stood there, middle of the night, rain coming down in literal sheets, and didn't even bother to call me the next day, or the day after that?

I take a deep breath and gather myself. The car Matty booked arrives in twenty minutes - just enough time to down a shot of tequila and give myself a pep talk. I look in the mirror and sigh. Having had a panic when realising I had twenty four hours to gather a concert outfit, I'd settled on my usual - mini skirt, band t-shirt, dad's old leather jacket that is arguably just too oversized. With my hair pinned up and bangs curled, I line my lips and add a wing to my eyes, finally feeling ready.

The car beeps it's horn outside and I hurry, my boots heavy on the pavement as I rush down the steps.

I breathe deeply as we round the corner to the venue, nerves prickling up my back. Swallowing heavily, I thank the driver and get out of the car, my feet feeling heavy as I walk towards the entrance. It's around the back, but I can already hear the bustle of the queues around the front of the arena, even hours before the boys go on themselves.

"Wow, hello stranger!" George teases as I walk down the hallway, him coming towards me from the opposite direction. I roll my eyes in response and accept his hug.

"Nice to see you too." I tease.

"No, genuinely, did you disappear off of the face of the Earth? Abducted by aliens, maybe?"

"Give over." I laugh, following him into the green room. My eyes are already two steps ahead of my brain, scanning the room for him. "I've just been busy."

"Fair enough." He smiles. "Do you want a drink?"

"Yeah, go on then."

We sit and chat for a while before the other boys arrive, enjoying the quiet before the chaos.

"You know, I was talking to Ross earlier-"

My eyes widen at the words as they leave his mouth, and somehow become impossibly wider as he enters the room.

He's smiling sweetly, dimples and all, and I hate the way my eyes are glued to him. Hann, Jamie, Polly and Matty follow him in, waving sarcastically as he comes in and throws his coat across the sofa.

I stand up to greet him, his arms wrapping tightly around my shoulders.

"I'm glad you came." He says as he pulls away and I nod, not sure whether I feel the same in the moment.

I meet Ross' gaze for a second and he gives me a nod of sorts, and for the first time since that night, I feel angry. At him, at what he did, at the fact that he thinks he doesn't owe me an apology. I blink harshly and look away, inhaling sharply and making my way over to the bar cart. Pouring myself a strong drink, I gather my emotions and listen to the deep rumbling of his voice behind me.

"Yeah, it's packed outside already, loads of people." He says to George.

I sit on the sofa, legs crossed and eyes fixed on my phone as I scroll through meaningless, empty Instagram posts. There's a tension in the room, the kind that makes the air feel sticky and hot, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

My eyes flick up and he's looking at me. He doesn't look away. I hold his stare for a few seconds, looking at him through my lashes as he takes a sip of his beer, cursing myself as I give in and look back down at my phone. I listen as he talks to Jamie, and it's like someone's sucked the air out of my lungs as memories of that night flash into my mind. I stand up sharply, making my way towards the door. It's busy in the green room now, lots of family and friends chatting away, and I pray that the busy-ness of the room has made my exit discreet.

"Everything okay?" Matty's hand grips my forearm gently, his brow furrowed.

"Yeah, just going for some air." I smile, nodding lightly.

My boots land heavily on the halls as I make my way towards the exit, weaving my way through the stage hands and guests busying their ways around.

I feel a cold hand on my arm, a gasp escaping my lungs as i'm pulled down a corridor. Instinctively, I try and pull away, but the firm grip has other ideas.

His eyes are dark, looking down at me with concern.

"It's me, it's just me."

"For fuck's sake, Ross!" I hit his arm, taking deep breaths and placing a hand on my chest as it falls and rises. He just watches me and I shake my head. "What? What is this?" I gesture around us.

"We need to talk." He says lowly, his eyes constantly looking to the hallway.

"Do you think so? Yeah, maybe you're right, maybe we do need to talk after you left-"

"Stop shouting." He says blankly, his voice still quiet.

"I cannot believe this." I laugh sarcastically and attempt to leave, but again, his fingertips find my arm.

"Please."

I meet his eyes and they look sad. Like, genuinely sad. I feel the anger in my stomach start to dissipate, sighing as I tilt my head at him.

"Are you going to tell me what happened, then?" I give in, folding my arms across my chest.

He looks both ways down the hallway, double-checking that no one will hear the criminal thing he did. I roll my eyes as he does so.

"I panicked."

I look at him blankly. "That's it? That's all you've got to say, you panicked?"

"Yeah, I panicked. I worried what the boys would say, I panicked that i would look like a fucking idiot if you didn't feel the same. Yeah, I panicked, Iris." He raises his eyebrows at me and I feel guilty for a second before I remember how he made me feel.

"So you just left me? Ross, I could have been killed, it was like 2AM, and you just left me! That's not an excuse!"

"I know, and I'm sorry!"

"I'm not arguing with you about this."

"Iris, this isn't an argument, I'm explaining what happened."

"Explaining? Don't you think I deserve a proper apology?"

"You do, and I've said I'm sorry. Iris, please, just listen to my side of things." He looks down at me and runs a hand through his hair, his chest rising underneath his t shirt as he rests his other hand on his hip. It takes everything in me to keep the blush from creeping into my cheeks, because despite how angry I am right now, he's still so hot.

"Go on, then." I put my hands on my hips and look at him expectantly, the eye contact between us making me blush no matter how hard i try not to.

"I said all those things to you, and I worried that I'd said too much and that everything was going to go up in flames. You work really well with the band, and I didn't want me to ruin everything." he looks down at his feet for a second. "I just... I'm sorry I left you there. I really am. It was a really shit thing to do, and if I could go back, I'd change things, and-"

"Well, you can't Ross." I sigh. "But thank you. For apologising, I mean, and explaining, i guess."

"Are we okay, Iris?" He looks at me with those big, puppy dog eyes, and if organs could melt, i think my heart would be in a puddle. "I know we were never really good, but are we okay, at least?"

"Yeah, we're okay." I nod, pursing my lips and kicking the floor with the toe of my boot. He nods in approval, awkwardly stood in front of me as the silence grows tense again. "Was I really that bad of a kisser?"

He scoffs at me and smiles, and despite everything that's happened between us, I can't help but grin. "No, you definitely weren't, Iris."

My cheeks flush bright red and I laugh awkwardly.

"Okay, I'm going to leave now." I nod and he smiles at me, and I wish I could just dip into his mind and know what he's thinking as our gazes connect, unable to tear away from each other. "I'm leaving now."

I spend the evening in the green room with the boys' families as they get ready to go on stage. Someone comes to tell us they're going on in five, so we make our way to the stage.

Walking down the hallway, I see the boys heading in the opposite direction, presumably through a different entrance.

It's like slow motion. I meet Ross' tall figure - he's wearing a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up halfway, hair up, black trousers on. He maintains the eye contact as he gets closer, and as he brushes past me, I feel our fingertips meet. Gentle, cold, soft, electric. It's like touching an open flame, yet I don't pull my hand away. I can't breathe at the proximity of him, our chests close as he turns to the side to ease past me in the small hallway.

Glancing up at him, there's an unfamiliar look on his face - a smirk. His lips curve upwards cockily as he passes me, and I work hard to turn away from him.

The entire show goes by in a blur - a blur of excitement, desire, tension. The band sound great, and even perform a snippet of a song we've been working on, but he is all I can look at, tall and broad as he skilfully plays away. Seeing him in his element makes me feel a different level of attraction to him.

As the show ends and the crowd screams for them, he meets my gaze at the side of the stage, that same smile appearing. I cheer, whistling for him and he laughs lightly. I smile to myself as I realise that this is truly the first friendly interaction we've had, if friendly is what you can call this. The show ends and the crowds filter out, everyone backstage congratulating the band and bottles of champagne being popped. I try to distract myself from his looming presence in the room, his mind clearly elsewhere as he chats with people from the label.

My eyes follow him as he makes his way towards the door, tall and strong, excusing himself politely as he curbs around people. When he reaches the door, i watch as he searches the room, finally meeting my gaze and cocking his head. I inhale sharply, blushing both because of the fact that I was staring, but also the intimacy of his gesture.

I do as I'm told - I excuse myself from the conversation with Matty's aunties and leave the room. He slips into a room further down the hallway, and I notice that he leaves the door open.

"Ross, what-"

The second I enter the room, he's closing the door behind us and I'm pressed up against it. His hands are either side of my head, his face impossibly close to mine, and I feel my body go like putty under his presence. My lips part as his eyes are trained on my face, and the fire is lit in my stomach.

"I thought about you while I was out there." His deep voice murmurs. "The whole time."

"The whole time?"

He hums in reply and I squeeze my legs together. He notices and I blush.

"I thought we were okay, Ross."

"We'll never be okay, Iris."

I subconsciously move my hands up his shirt, watching as he closes his eyes. He moves his head to the side for a moment, almost like he's thinking about the pro's and con's of this situation.

"They don't have to know, if that's what you're worried about." I say quietly, my mind clouded in the darkness of the room.

He looks back to me and shakes his head lightly. "They'll know." He huffs, not moving. "I need you, Iris."

I scratch the hair at the nape of his neck lightly and hear the low groan escape his throat.

I can't take it anymore - I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his, and it's like taking a cold shower after a hot day. His lips on mine are relieving.

"Are you sure?" He mumbles against me as his hands move underneath my shirt, rubbing and circling at the soft skin at my waist.

"I'm sure." I nod, probably seeming a little desperate.

His hands trail down my thighs, pulling the tiny mini skirt even higher if possibly. The groans and hums that leave his mouth have me reeling.

I push him backwards, his knees hitting the sofa behind him and forcing him to sit down. His eyes are impossibly dark, clouded with desire and needy as I stand in front of him.

"You're not going to leave me in the middle of this, are you?" I tease as I move to straddle him using my thumb to wipe away the lipstick smeared in his cheek.

"Never." he murmurs as his lips find my neck, forcing my eyes shut.