affordable sports car

old people always talk about having a mid life crisis but ive already had like 5 and im not even 30

how to fall in love in nine simple steps

a/n: i suck at writing fluff since i’ve been working on this since november and managed to finish it now. i apologize in advance for the mediocre writing, angst is more my speed, but i did promise fluff. ALSO: feel free to send me some prompts, not sure how long it’ll be, but i’m totally willing to do some. :)

this particular piece is based off “you are in love” by taylor swift

summary: you two were the biggest slowburn in the history of slowburns. 

triggers: swearing, mild panic attack scene, mentions of violence

one look, dark room, meant just for you

step one: he meets you

Jason could remember the day he saw you for the first time. He was in some alleyway bleeding from a cut some thug gave him right before Jason put one through the guy’s skull. You were walking home and heard him groaning in pain. You were a young med student who had finished your rounds at the hospital.

“Oh my god what happened?!” It was safe to say that you were a little frazzled that night.You had just delivered a baby (with assistance of course) and stitched up someone who had an arrow stuck in their side. Your hands were pressing into the wound in his thigh while reciting everything you had ever learned from school. He didn’t let you call the ambulance, but you had told him later that you expected as much.

“I know who you are,” you had said. It made his heart pump out of his chest. “You’re the Red Hood. And the police hate you.”

“And what about you?” Jason huffed out once his heartbeat settled from the panic attack he almost had. He thought you knew him. The man behind the hood.

“What about me?” You replied. You took off your belt and tied it around the upper part of his thigh.

“What do you think about me?”

“I barely even know you.”

“You must know something.”

You sighed and tucked your hair behind your ears. You helped him to his feet and assisted him in hobbling down the street. “I think you’re crazy.”

Jason laughed harder than he should’ve, given the fact that his hood was still on and you were both in plain sight.

“You know me better than you think.” You gave a sheepish smile, too busy struggling to support the both of you. “Where are we goin’ anyway?”

“My place,” you said. “It’s probably closer and I’d hate to risk the whole secret identity thing you have going on here.”

small talk, he drives, coffee at midnight

step two: he sees you

From that night on, Jason came home to you. You two weren’t dating. That was completely preposterous. But he did come back every night to get stitches. And if you weren’t home, he’d wait on the fire escape until you came back. On the days he didn’t need any medical attention (which aren’t as rare as everyone thinks), he’d just sit and talk with you about his day, about your day. He would never stay too long, you had classes and an internship at the hospital. He had pieces of shit to beat up (and maybe kill but he never told you when he did.) (but you always knew).

It was a Friday this time. Jason was bored and you had nothing to do tomorrow. So he borrowed (stole) a car from Bruce and arrived at your place at 9pm that night demanding that you take a ride with him.

You accepted of course. Without an ounce of hesitation. It had been so long since you had done something fun anyway.

“Did you steal this?” You asked not even a second after you got in the car. It made Jason a little irritated just how fast you had figured him out.

“C'mon, Y/N, you don’t think I can afford this?” It was some sort of sports car that had too many Italian words for Jason to really care about.

You looked at him with a deadpan expression that could kill. “You use safety pins, duct tape, and band-aids to keep your suit together. If you can’t afford some needle and thread, I doubt you can afford a sports car,” you said sardonically.

Jason had to give it to you, you definitely weren’t an idiot.

He laughed again and drove off. “Glad to see that college education is doing something.” You scoffed, even though there was a pinch of humor in it.


“I know, it’s spectacular,” he grinned. Not that you could see it though, his hood was still on. He didn’t trust you that much. Not yet at least.

“Unbelievable!” You exclaimed. “That wasn’t even grammatically correct!”

Jason shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. It was funny.”

“You’re an imbecile.”

“Whoa there, smarty pants. You might want to simplify your vocabulary. I’m afraid yours truly did not graduate high school.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not dumb, Hood.”

“Says who?”

“Says the extensive vocabulary you have when you beat those sons of bitches halfway to Hell.”

Jason’s brows pinched together. “How would you know about that?” His grip tightened on the steering wheel and he may have increased the speed of the car by ten miles or so.

“Some of those guys come into the hospital before going to jail. They ask random questions when they’re on laughing gas. I think my personal favorite is ‘Red Hood called me a dolt, should I be offended?’”

“That’s all you have? I was expecting more from you given your record.” He was talking about all the times you outsmarted him in just about every topic. You always said you had more free time than he did. You had time to research current events when you weren’t working or taking classes.

(He always disagreed because he spent a lot of his time at Roy’s place, or at his own, sleeping while you were elbows deep in homework).

“Well you did slip up a few times. You used ‘myriad’ as an adjective instead of a noun which kind of gave you away.”

“I hate it when people do that! They sound so uneducated!” Jason exclaimed. “It makes me wonder why we waste money on dictionaries if people don’t use them.”

“They make them for people like us, Hood.”

You both had driven out of Gotham and into some remote town. There was a small 24 hour diner that was pretty much empty except the employees. You had spotted it and demanded that you both went inside.

Jason had no reason to protest. He was far enough from Gotham that no one should know who he was. And if they asked, he would say the hood served a medical purpose, it helped him breathe. (So maybe he had watched too many Star Wars movies the past few days, but no one would be the wiser.)

That was how you and him ended up sitting in a random booth with coffee and way too many baskets of fries and chicken tenders. Jason put it all on Bruce’s card that he had borrowed along with the car.

Bruce wouldn’t care. Wasn’t he still trying to make up the whole death thing up anyway? Okay so maybe the whole stealing the car and one of Bruce’s credit cards was a dick move. But he was allowed to live a little. Especially with someone like you.

Both of you deserved a night off right?

You were getting delirious. You kept trying to hit the eye holes in his mask with french fries. You would giggle when you hit the targets and groan when you didn’t. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were drunk. But you were tired.

You actually collapsed face first into the food and didn’t wake up until he laid you down in a hotel bed.

you can hear it in the silence

step three: he shows you

That night was a bad night. He made it to the front door of your apartment complex but couldn’t bring himself to go up the stairs. It was too hard. There were too many flights. You were only on the third floor but damn that was too much for him.

Jason was almost positive that a few of his ribs were cracked if not broken. There was a bullet wound in his shoulder. No bullet, he checked. A few knife wounds on his thighs. It was enough for him to collapse on the sidewalk. It was all he could do to take the damn flip phone out of his pocket and call you.

“Yeah?” You asked. “I was wondering where you were.”

“I need help,” he rasped.

He could your voice change instantaneously. “Oh my god, where are you?”

“Front door of complex,” he wheezed.

“I’ll be right there.”

He heard the front door open not a minute later. He wanted to look at you, to reassure you that he was okay, but if he moved he might just pass out.

“Hood, I’m gonna need you to tell me what hurts, okay?”

“Hurts to breathe,” he wheezed. “Probably broke a few ribs, got shot in the shoulder, cuts on my thighs.”

Your sigh was heavy, he could feel the frustration rolling off you in waves.“Well looks like I’m carrying you, then.”

“You can’t carry me, I’m way too big.”

“Well I’d rather you not bleed out in front of my apartment building. So I’ll deal with your morbid obesity.” You slung his uninjured arm around your shoulder. He groaned, but you ignored him. And by the grace of God you all but carried him up those six flights of stairs. Your apartment door was open, and if he wasn’t in severe pain, he’d yell at you for being so careless, but he was about to pass out from the pain he was in.

He collapsed on the couch with another groan while you hurried to the sink to grab rags and your first aid kit.

“Drink this,” you said. You shoved a bottle of vodka in his hands before taking his jacket off.

Jason opened the bottle and took a large swig of the alcohol. He could see that you were mentally debating what to do about the undershirt that was sticking to his skin. “Cut it off if you need to,” he heaved. “I don’t care.” You took out the scissors and started cutting the shirt away from skin before throwing it onto the floor. You didn’t say anything when you saw him barechested. There was no doubt that he was covered in bruises and cuts. And judging by the look on your face, a few of his ribs were definitely broken.

“What the hell did you do, Hood?”

“A few thugs got the upperhand on me for a few minutes. I eventually took them down, but not without running into some problems,” he wheezed through his helmet.

“Can you even breathe?” You asked. There was a hint of worry in your voice, but Jason brushed it off. He couldn’t really pay all that much attention since you were disinfecting some of the knife wounds on his chest.

“A little.” He could tell what you were thinking. You wanted him to remove the helmet, but you wouldn’t do it without his permission. You knew him well enough to know that his identity was sacred to him. More so than others. So instead of asking, you just kept cleaning up his cuts and bandaging his ribcage without a word. You started disinfecting a particularly painful wound that made him wince and breath sharply, which ended in more pain because of his ribs.

“You okay?”

“Dandy,” he gritted. “Just dandy.”

And he was fine, until you had to remove his pants to look at the injuries on his leg. To which you said most of them needed stitches.

And Jason hated needles.

Flashbacks of his mother shooting up in their shitty home kept going through his mind as you pulled out the needle and thread. He had never told you about that part of his life, mostly because he never saw the point.

“Hood? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” He said a little too quickly. You didn’t buy it.

“You’re starting to scare me.”

The hood was starting to suffocate him. It was restricting his breathing. He was sure he was going to die. He was sure of it. It was closing in on him. Just like the smoke that surrounded him when he died. The rubble on top of him. The lack of breathing space. He was going to die.

“Take it off!” He screamed.

“Are you su-”

“Just take it off!” Jason was seconds away from a full on panic attack. Your hands were diligently working it off his head as gentle and fast as possible. He took a giant gasp of air when he heard the helmet hit the ground.

You didn’t say a word when you two made eye contact. You just sat him up a little and ran a hand through his hair to soothe his breathing. “You’re okay, Hood. You’re safe.”

“Jason,” he replied when his breathing had stabilized. “My name is Jason Todd.”

and for once you let go, of your fears and your ghosts

step four: he shares with you

After that night, nothing had changed except you called him by his actual name. And Jason sounded so much better than Hood. Neither of you had addressed the elephant in the room, Jason didn’t want to ruin the friendship he had with you. It was built off lightheartedness, and you were too good of a person to carry his burdens. In fact, you were probably the best most pure person he knew. You never pressured him into anything he didn’t want to talk about. It was all he could do to get you to take that damn hood off his head.

One day, you didn’t have to work and he wasn’t in the mood for patrol. He had texted Dick to let the big man that know that he wasn’t patrolling that night. Maybe he would send out Jason’s replacement and the ten year old brat to fill in for him. After all, Bruce did owe him.

He stopped by unannounced with a box of the most unhealthy popcorn and a grocery bag of candy and Red Bull he had stolen from Tim’s room.

When you answered the door you were still in your pajamas and you didn’t say a word when he showed up without his hood on. You had grown accustomed to it.

“What’re you doing here Ho-Jason?” Despite being used to seeing his face, it was obvious that you weren’t used to calling him by his real name yet.

Jason kicked the door shut and locked it before setting the food down on the coffee table. “I was bored. I knew you had the day off.”

He plopped down on the couch and opened a can of Red Bull. You were hesitant to sit by him, he could tell. But you did it anyway.

He sighed heavily and took a sip of the energy drink before setting it down. “Do I scare you?” He asked offhandedly.

And points to you for not flinching at his sudden question. You should’ve been a movie star. “You honestly think you scare me?” You scoffed. “You could do just about anything and you wouldn’t scare me.”

“Then why so hesitant?” Your mask slipped a little. He could see the emotional turmoil behind your eyes. You didn’t want to answer the question because you were afraid of his reaction. “Is it because I’m supposed to be dead?” You didn’t say anything so he must’ve hit it right on the nose. “It’s no big deal, I promise you.”

“Jason,” you looked him in the eye for the first time in what felt like forever. “What happened?”

What a loaded question.

“What do you want to know?” He swallowed the lump in his throat and ignored the rapid beating of his heart. If he could trust anyone with his backstory, it would be you.


So he told you.

He told you about his drug addicted mother who wasn’t actually his mom. How Bruce found him. How he became Robin (he left out that Bruce was Batman, but you were smart, maybe you’d figure it out one day). How he went after the Joker to save his real mom. How his real mom sold him out. How he tried to save her anyway. How the building blew up and he died. How he was revived and found out that Batman had replaced him instead of avenging him. How he felt like the black sheep of his family.

He had tears running down his cheeks, but you said nothing of them. You pulled him into your chest and ran your hands through his hair. He didn’t want to remember what happened to him all those years ago. He didn’t want to remember the terrible pain he was in when he came back.

But you held him.

You held him.

Physically, and maybe a little emotionally. He doesn’t remember smiling as much before he met you. Roy, Kori, and him, they were friends, good friends, but their jokes always had a morbid reality. Always about death. The ‘I’m only here because Hell got too crowded’ kind of jokes. With you, he could joke about old people and his dysfunctional family. With you, he wasn’t trying to fill the awkward silence with words. Your silence was enough.

one night he wakes, strange look on his face

step five: he notices you

Honestly, he should’ve seen it coming. He didn’t know why he was so surprised. Nearly every moment you were free, you were together. Jason knew he was somewhat intelligent. He was observant. The slums of Gotham had taught him that much fairly fast. So he was fairly surprised when he learned he was falling for you and had no idea for the longest time.

All the signs were there. Jason could immediately read you without any trouble. When you wanted to say something, but were too afraid to speak up, you’d rock back and forth on your heels or drum your fingers on any surface. Your nose scrunched up when you heard something you didn’t like.

You had an array of smiles for each and every situation. There was a certain smile that would grace your face when you were trying your best to keep back a rude comment. A smile of relief when you finally left the hospital. A sad smile when you told him of how a patient died that day. And a shit eating grin reserved for the times you were with him.

He should’ve noticed sooner. He’d seen enough people fall in love in his lifetime. Or at least the beginning stages. For fucks sake, he watched pubescent Dick and Barbara dance around each other for the longest time. How could he not have seen it before?

“Master Todd, are you alright?” Alfred walked into the kitchen. Jason had come over for the sole purpose of catching up with the butler. He, after all, never judged him unfairly. Besides, you had told him that he should at least try to forgive his family, or at least reconnect, even if they were in the wrong.

“They might not be much in your opinion, but they’re the only family you’ve got.” you said one night.

“Not true,” he defended. “I have you.”

Jason groaned into his hands as he stood at the island in the kitchen. “Define being ‘alright’, Alfred.”

The butler slid a mug of black coffee towards the young man. “Would you care to enlighten me on what is going on?”

“Do you have any alcohol?” He wasn’t sober enough to answer that question. Alfred gave him an odd look but nodded anyway. A glass of whiskey was placed in front of him. Jason took a large gulp of it.

and you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

step six: he hears you

He was headed toward your apartment on his way home when he heard it. It was the most godawful sound. Even worse than nails on a chalkboard. Worse than a little kid crying. Worse than a bad violin player or vomiting.

It was a scream. One he had never heard before, but instantly recognized.


His heart leaped to his throat as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop, trying to remember where he heard the sound. His blood was boiling, heart pounding, gut clenching. Jason couldn’t remember a time when he had ever been angrier.

He heard you scream again, except there were words that he couldn’t quite understand. He knew where you were now. A few blocks away from the hospital. It all made sense. You had a shift that night anyway. He jumped down some fire escapes into the alley you were in.

Only to see you holding a trash can lid and standing over three knocked out thugs. You nose was bleeding and your hair and clothes were rustled. But you were okay as far as injuries go.

“You’re a regular Captain America,” he joked.

You looked at him like a deer in headlights. For a split second you looked like you were about to beat his ass, but you relaxed at the sight of him. “Your timing is shitty, as usual,” you deadpanned.

He walked towards you and took the lid from your hand and surveyed the injuries you inflicted on the thugs. “What the hell did you do to them? Ultimate Frisbee them into unconsciousness?”

“I’ve been taking self defense classes.”

“And they taught you how to use a trash can lid to your advantage?” He raised an eyebrow at the thought.

“Call it improvising.” You sighed and combed a hand through your hair. “Can I go home now?”

Jason laughed. “Yeah, let’s get you home.” You walked ahead of him. You were far enough ahead for him to notice the slight limp you had. Jason nearly turned around and put a bullet in the skulls of those bastards but he got distracted.

“You coming? Or are you headed home?”

He could handle them later.

you are in love

step seven: he tells you

You were sitting next to him on your couch. His arm was around your shoulder, your head was on his. Jason couldn’t tell you what movie you were both watching. Something about a girl and a boy falling in love? Wasn’t that all you two watched anyway?

“It’s a form of escapism,” you told him.

He never told you that he watched it to see the smile on your face or the light in your eyes. He watched those stupid movies just for you. He let you believe that it helped him sleep better at night because he could imagine a world without the Joker and coming back to life.

(However, he never told you that it was because he saw a life with you in those movies).

When the movie ended, you were sleepy, but stayed up anyway.

“One more, Jase. C'mon.” You pleaded with him with those giant eyes that you knew worked on him every single time. (He could hear Dick cracking a whip in the distance). “It’s just Hercules. An innocent little Disney movie. The best in my personal opinion.”

“Fine.” he huffed like it was an inconvenience. But he didn’t care as long as he got to hold you like he was.

So Jason watched the movie for the first time. Laughing when necessary, connecting with the awkward personality of Hercules and smiling when he saw Megara’s fire in you.  

Spoiler Alert: Hercules isn’t accepted by the very same people who praise him the second he’s successful which is why Jason personally enjoyed the character.

However, when Megara died his heart clenched and almost stopped. He saw you in her. He felt Hercules’ pain. Jason held you a little tighter, just imagining the thought of the Joker ever getting his hands on you. The thought of him ever killing you made Jason’s blood boil. It made his heart race. His mind go blank.

But like all Disney movies, Hercules ended happily. The hero chose Meg over immortality and they both rode off into the sunset while Hades was drowning in souls.

You were long asleep by the very end. You weren’t even awake to see the tears in Jason’s eyes. (But if anyone asked, he would swear on his life that the only Disney movie that made him cry was The Lion King.)

He looked long and hard at your sleeping face, a firm and concentrated expression passing over his face. He would die for you, no doubt. He would lose all abilities possible if it meant you were safe. Jason would swim in a river of souls for you. He’d face the Joker if he needed to, if you were in danger.

And it hit him like a brick to the balls.

He was in love with you. So fucking in love with you. (Dick was cracking a whip in the distance, he was sure of it). And while Jason prided himself on his bravery, he just couldn’t seem to tell you the truth. Sure he had just come to the realization, but it was more like acknowledging something he had been ignoring.

God he loved you. But the fear of rejection, the fear of losing you seemed to be all he could focus on.

Until of course you shifted in his arms and let out the cutest sigh he ever heard.

You were surely going to kill him.

Jason couldn’t hold it in anymore. You were making his heart race and swell more than anyone else he had ever been attracted to. So he took a deep breath and stared at your sleeping form. He could say it if you were asleep right?


Jason sucked in a large amount of air and sighed.

“I love you.”

true love

step eight: he loves you

How long had it been since that night? A week? Two weeks? A month?

Jason had no fucking idea.

Every day that seemed to past, his confession seemed to grate at him. He was becoming more irritable, he even started avoiding you thinking it would make him love you less.

Until he realized that distance does in fact make the heart grow stronger.

Fuck love.

Who was he kidding? He hadn’t felt this happy in years. You were the best thing to ever happen to him. With your perfect smile and gut turning laugh. Don’t even get him started on your confident stride and your gentle hands that took down a couple of thugs.

(You had yet to tell him how you did it. Your exact words were: “You have guns. You don’t need to know”).

Dick had called him on the phone a few days ago to set up a “brother get together”. Jason had only agreed because Grayson said his replacement and the bat demon wouldn’t be there. They met up for coffee on the roof of a 24 hour Starbucks. They had taken a small break from patrol and needed some fuel to keep going.

“Have you told YN yet?” The bastard didn’t even pretend like he was there for another purpose.

Fuck him.

“Told YN what?” If Dick was going to be a bastard, Jason was going to be a dumbass.

“Don’t be coy. Admit it, you’re in love.”

Jason scoffed. “If you’re looking for a confession, I’m not giving you one, Goldie.”

“Why?” Dick teased. He shoved Jason’s shoulder. “We’re brothers.”

“Hardly,” he mumbled.

“C'mon Jase, lighten up. People in love are supposed to be happier.”

“Not when their so called family is harassing them about it.”

“So you admit it then? You’re in love?”

“I’m not admitting anything,” he grumbled. From the corner of his eye, he could see Dick’s face morph into a teasing smile.

“You haven’t told YN yet?” Jason didn’t say a thing. “Why?”

“I haven’t seen them in a while,” he grumbled.

“Jason- you gotta-”

“Why?” He asked. “You told Barbara you loved her and now she’s in a wheelchair. I don’t want the same for YN.” The second the words left his mouth, Jason knew he fucked up. Dick’s jaw clenched as did his fists around the coffee cup. “Dick I’m-”

“Forget it,” the man said while standing up. “I get it, I do. But not saying anything makes it worse. You don’t want to be in a hospital wondering if they knew you loved them.” Dick handed Jason his coffee cup. “Throw that away for me, will ya?” Before Jason could decline his request, Dick was already three rooftops away.

And Jason was sitting on top of Starbucks with two cups of coffee before he finally decided to see you after two weeks of silence.

In the end, there wasn’t a dramatic reunion between the two of you. He knocked at your door and you let him in without a single question. You let him sit down before you finally had enough of his quiet demeanor.

“Something happen?”

Jason sighed and pinched his nose. As much as he hated to admit it, Dick was right. You deserved to know even if it was the end of the friendship you shared. “Yes,” he said. “Something major happened.”

Your eyebrows pulled together in that cute little way. “Jason, what’s wrong? What happened?”

He put his head in his hands and sighed deeply. His posture concerned you enough that you moved to sit right beside him. He almost pushed you away because he didn’t think he could tell you flat out how he felt when he could see every speck of color in your eyes and the worry lines in your forehead that were permanent when Jason was involved.

“You happened.” He took one glance at you and saw the anger and insult written all over your face.

“Excuse me-”

“I’m in love with you,” he said. A burden of a thousand pounds seemed to fall from his shoulders. “I love you.”

Out of all the outcomes he pictured in his head, your bright smile a the biggest kiss he had ever received were not anywhere close.

“Bout time,” you said against his lips. “I love you too.”

you’re in love


Bonsai Mustang, another progenitor for the Tokio drift: well maintained but not so fast and furious Toyota Celica TA22 1600 5 Speeds ST Coupé (1970 to 1975), a relatively affordable sports car back in the Seventies.

Badass 3

Ever wanted to be a badass hunter? Let’s play pretend, shall we?

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Warnings: Slight swearing, sexual innuendos.

Word Count: 1,834

Something to put you in the mood here. I always try to put music with my writing so you can listen along. I will probably have a playlist for this series when this is all said and done. (Series? What the hell? This started as a drabbble…) 

I’m very new to all of this and @mrswhozeewhatsis the rockstar that she is helped me tweak some things. This version should be easier to read - We needed some character development <Please let me know what you guys think>

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7

It didn’t take long for Cas to relax on the back of your bike and start enjoying the ride. He definitely preferred this to squeezing into the back seat of the Impala and being cooped up for hours at a time. This was still slower than he liked to travel, but it was a little bit like flying; not exactly, but he liked feeling the wind rushing past as you began to lead Dean through side streets, the purr of the engine the only sound in the night.

 He loosened his grip on your waist and started watching the landscape around him as the store fronts soon passed away and were replaced by small neighborhood subdivisions. But you kept on driving. 

The night was cool and clear and the streets were almost empty at this hour, making it easy for Dean to keep pace with you. You began speeding even faster, heading to the outskirts of town.

Eventually the subdivisions disappeared altogether and you started passing large pastures on either side. 

Pretty soon you pulled off of the main road onto a smaller dirt road lined with large oak trees that led to a large plantation style house. It was an older home, but well cared for; hydrangea and gardenia bushes lined the gardens and jasmine vines hung along the porch banisters. 

You drove into the side garage and parked the bike, letting Cas off first as the Impala parked in the driveway behind you.

“You live here?” Dean asked as he got out of the driver’s side, looking around in amazement. 

You climbed off and took off your helmet, shaking out your hair and turning to look at him in annoyance. “Well let’s hope your brother is the brains of your operation.” But he was too busy looking around to hear you. “Just because the rest of you hunters live in run down houses and junkyards doesn’t mean that I’m going to.”

 You hung your helmet above the workbench and headed toward the door. “You should stop making assumptions about everyone you meet, Dean. It makes you look like an ass.” You called over your shoulder. 

Cas smiled as he followed you “I like it” he commented, looking back at the brothers. 

“You have good taste” you said and walked inside. Sam smiled at him and walked to the door but turned around to see Dean drooling over the other sports car in the garage. He looked up at Sam with a lost look “Do you see this?” he asked, pointing excitedly. 

“Dean” Sam whispered harshly “Come on!” and he motioned for him to follow.

 Dean looked back at the car with a whine and then followed them in.

The inside was just as impressive and the boys found themselves taking in the plush surroundings as fast as they could as they tried to keep pace with you. 

You walked straight to a large bookcase on the far wall, pushed a small button behind the trim, and then easily pulled the whole bookshelf to the side to reveal another room. Dean’s jaw hit the floor as he walked up to it, punching Sam’s arm as he took in the weapons cache. There were rifles and pistols that lined one wall and the other walls displayed handheld weapons ranging from throwing stars to engraved swords, machetes and bo staffs. 

Dean and Sam lit up like kids in a candy store. “I have to say your collection might be a little bit cooler than ours at the bunker.” Sam said, and you walked up to a tall cabinet with several drawers. 

“It took me a long time to put this collection together. But some of the hardest things to find were these.” You said as you withdrew a large box from the middle drawer and laid it on the table in the middle of the room. You opened it to reveal four knives with inscriptions covering the blades. 

The three men walked up to view them as you beamed over the box. “These are what we’ll need for tomorrow night.” 

“We had been searching for these for quite some time. How did you manage to obtain them?” Cas asked as he read the engravings. 

You chuckled to yourself “You don’t want to know, angel” you said as you picked one up and handed it to him.

“I don’t want to seem rude” Sam spoke up as he tried to word his question carefully “but how does a hunter…” 

“afford a damn sports car?” Dean chimed in. 

You grin as Cas hands the knife back and you tuck it back into its place and put it away in the drawer. “You boys have really underestimated me. Not that I’m surprised though.” you said as you headed out of the door. “I wasn’t always a hunter.” They followed you out and you closed the bookcase behind them.

“Your rooms are up here” you said, heading up the large staircase. You pointed out a room for Sam and one for Dean “You’re welcome to help yourself to the library in the morning, but don’t wake me up.” 

“Yes ma’am” Dean said as he walked into his room for the night. Then you turned to the angel. 

“I don’t require a room. I-Angels don’t sleep” you folded your arms and chuckled at him. 

“Good. Then you can keep me company for a while.” And you headed to a room at the other end of the hall. 

When Cas walked in you had thrown your jacket over the back of an armchair and were heading into the bathroom. He took a few steps into the room, looking at one of the art pieces that you had on the wall. 

“So tell me” you called from the bathroom. You had left the door open but were out of sight “What the hell are you doing hanging around with those two, Castiel?” 

Cas thought about your question for a minute and then smiled to himself. “They’re my friends” he said simply.” 

You emerged a moment later in a black tee and boy shorts. “Seriously?” you asked, and then headed out the door. “You’re not, contractually bound to them? They don’t have you tied to some spell” you glanced over your shoulder as you started down the stairs. 

“No, the Winchesters have not bound me by any magical means.” And he followed you into the kitchen. 

“Interesting” you mumbled, filling a tea kettle and placing it on the stove.

“You’re confused as to why I have decided to be friends with them.” He said, watching you from the counter as you moved about, gathering cups and tea bags. His eyes fell on your curves as you reached up for two cups on the top shelf and your shirt rose up. 

You walked up to the counter and leaned on it, watching his expression. “Your friend Dean has a reputation for being an ass, and I have to say that I’m not sure that I disagree. Sam seems nice, but once again…he’s a Winchester” and you smirked. “You just don’t really seem to fall into that crowd” you said with a wink and turned around to fix your drinks.

You grabbed the cups and made your way to the sofa and sat down at the end, holding the other cup out to him. 

He took it and sat down next to you and you turned and placed your legs over his lap. He leaned back, took a sip and then rested his hand on your leg as he looked around the room. 

You couldn’t help the flash of heat that hit you from his touch and you sighed as you took a sip. 

“I have helped both Sam and Dean when I could, and they’ve helped me in return as well. I consider both of them good friends.” And he took another sip.

 “A fallen angel and a couple of wayward hunters. You make an interesting group, to say the least.” And he smiled at that.

“And what about you?” he said, turning to you. He still had not been able to peg you 

“You’re a hunter who only works alone, and who seems to threaten anyone who comes close to you. You live in a large house, presumably alone, with a weapon collection that rivals the Men of Letters’. And yet, you’ve opened your home to us and have asked for my company. I didn’t know what to expect when we first saw you, but I did not expect this” 

You laughed at his comments and reached over to put your cup on the coffee table. “I do prefer to keep to myself. I have worked with incompetent hunters before and have wound up in a hospital bed, almost dead. That’s when I chose to go out on my own. I don’t trust other hunters when it comes to my own safety anymore.” 

You looked over at him and he seemed to be studying you now. 

“But I like you, angel” and his smile finally reached his eyes “So I don’t mind letting you stay here, even if it is with the Winchesters. And as for my house…” you looked around at the large living room “I had a life before I was pulled into the world of hunting. It was a good one.” and you stretched out your arms behind your head and your legs across his lap with a sigh “but that’s over now” and you smiled over at him. 

You pushed yourself off of the side of the sofa and slid your knees on either side of his waist so that you were straddling him and sitting in his lap. He looked up at you with big, curious blue eyes and you ran your hands up the back of his neck and through his hair as he watched you.

“I think I’m going to head up to my room for the night, angel” and you slid your hands down to rest against his chest. What do you do at night if you don’t sleep?” 

Cas considered your question for a moment as his hands moved to rest on your thighs. “Well sometimes I pass the time reading, or traveling, if I don’t have my hands full with something else.” 

You hummed a response. “Well, I think we should continue our conversation upstairs” and Cas was watching you carefully 

“Perhaps I could keep you company for a while longer” he said, and you smirked at his response. “You know, it might come in handy tomorrow, having an angel on our side. I’ve never seen one of you in action before.” You said as you loosened his tie just a little bit. “I’m sure that you’re not as unassuming as you seem to be. An angel must have a few tricks up his sleeve.” 

And he looked at you with a mischievous smirk “Always” he said, and you gasped as the room disappeared and he flew you both to your room.


I hope you don’t mind me tagging you. (Please let me know if you do)

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Ok, but, instead of a High School AU where everyone is students, what about them all being faculty?

Principal Fury and Assistant Principal Maria Hill, of course, work closely with Dean Coulson. They try to keep everyone else from dealing with the shadowy world security council school board. 

Mr. Stark is the shop teacher who somehow affords the sports-car in his faculty parking spot; rumor has it his father founded a nearby university. Rumor also has it he’s dating Ms. Potts, the head of the PTA. He’s good friends with the Civics and Poli-Sci teacher Mr. Rhodes, and also the science teacher, Dr. Banner, who is usually pretty quiet but who students gossip once smashed an entire blackboard when his class wouldn’t behave. He and Mr. Stark co-coach the mathletes. 

Ms. Romanoff heads the international studies department, making the school one of the few that offers Russian as a language elective. No one is sure how she keeps her classes in such good order, but her students are remarkably well-behaved and high-achieving. She occasionally takes her lunch breaks with retired-soldier-turned Art teacher Mr. Rogers (who is astoundingly good at motivating students to reach their potential), and the well-liked guidance counselor, Mr. Wilson. 

Ms. Cho is the school nurse, who referred Mr. V; Mr. V is the computer science teacher and network assistant who spends a lot of time troubleshooting computers for the new librarian, Miss M, whose brother coaches the track and field team.

Coach Odinson teaches Phys Ed, and also coaches the football team. He’s loud and joyful, married to AP Physics teacher Dr. Foster, and well-liked by everyone. Or, almost everyone – there seems to be some kind of beef between him and AP Lit teacher Mr. Laufeyson, who is a notoriously tricky grader, to the dismay of nearly all his students. 

Mr. Pym used to teach science but retired; sometimes he comes back as a substitute, but more often classes are subbed by Mr. Lang, whose approach to teaching seems to consist of doing his best to goof off even harder than his students. He’s good friends with everyone’s favorite bus driver, Luis. Economics teacher Miss Van Dyne can’t seem to stand him though. 

And custodian Mr. Barton is on a one-man mission to replace the entire HVAC system without breaking the budget, and as such is often seen on the roof, or crawling through the duct work. More than one student swears to have witnessed him falling out of an air vent. 

The original Ford Mustang caused a massive sensation when it debuted in early 1964. It was North America’s new affordable compact sports car and by the end of its day of introduction, Ford already had 22,000 orders from eager buyers. I made this technical poster to chart the original model’s changes, available to buy from

First picture of McLaren’s new baby

Woking reveals first official image of its entry-level ‘Sports Series’. Here’s everything you need to know.

This is your first official look at the new ‘baby McLaren’ - the Porsche 911 Turbo-rivalling two-seater, codenamed P13 and set to land early next year. And we now know its real name, too: this week, Woking revealed that its most affordable sports car ‘will be known as the McLaren Sports Series’.

Confused? We were too, not least because ‘Sports sounds like a potential Jenson Button menswear range. So we gave McLaren a call and were cheerily instructed that the name of the entire range will be ‘Sports Series’, and each car within it (a coupe, and drop-top spider, and other as yet unknown versions) will get individual titles.

Beyond that unusual naming strategy, here’s what we know about the junior McLaren, which is expected to arrive around April 2015.

At the heart of the car is a spin-off of the carbon fibre tub known as MonoCell in the old 12C and current 650S, and MonoCage in the hybrid P1, on account of its integral roof structure. That’s right: McLaren’s Porsche 911 Turbo and Mercedes-AMG GT S rival will use super-stiff carbon construction - a wild departure from the aluminum monocoques favoured by its rivals. [x]