Pairing: Dean x sister!reader, Sam x sister!reader, some Cas
Summary: Reader has been hexed by witch that turned her into a toddler, and a jealous Dean becomes very annoyed.
A/N: I hit 100 followers, so in honor of that I’ll be posting some imagines so if you guys have any request send them down and I’ll try my best.
Sam and Dean sit in baby staring at their once 25 year old sister who was now 4 years old in a ballerina outfit because that’s what she picked out at the store when they needed to buy her clothes. The previous hunt they were on Y/N got hit by some weird powder by a witch and Dean woke up the following morning to a tiny hand on his face.
“Why do you guys keeping wooking at me weird?” She ask looking between them. “You’re just so tiny.” Sam smiles. “She’s so cute!” Sam adds looking at Dean. “Yeah, I remember.” He mumbles as they get out the car to go food shopping for the bunker.
“Come on Y/N.” Sam chimes as he opens the back door for her. He holds her hand as they cross the street to the store. She lets go and runs to the shopping carts to grab one. They stand there watching her struggle to get one cart out because they were stuck together. (Don’t you just hate that) “I got it.” Sam chuckles getting it. As they walk in store Y/N skips ahead next to Dean to hold his hand but he keeps moving his hand so she can’t grab it.
“I don’t wanna hold your hand, thanks. I don’t wanna hold your hand.” He argues. She frowns and grabs a hold of his hand and grips it tight. “Ow, ow, let go of my hand.” He growls. “That hurts.” He glares down at her. She whimpers and peeks over to Sam who looks down at her. “What’s wrong bug?”
“Dean won’t hold my hand.” Y/N pouts. Sam gives Dean his signature bitch face and Dean grunts and grabs her hand. “She always did this before.” He mumbles but Sam just chuckles shaking his head. “Why did you choose a costume?” Dean ask looking at her ballerina outfit. “It’s not a costume it’s my protective gear.”
“How’s a ballerina costume suppose to protect you?”
“Are you crazy who wants to hurt a ballewina?” She protest. “Other ballerinas.” Dean shrugs. Once Dean had enough he throws Y/N in the seat of the cart and she rambles to Sam who too eventually has enough of her talk of Princes and fairies and he gives her his iPod. She bops her head and swings her hanging legs accidentally kicking Sam once in awhile listening to music as they get to the register. “Can I has some lime jerky?” She ask pointing down below to the candy and jerky. Sam is about to protest remembering her eating habit but Dean holds his hand up to stop him. “Your remember how she was when she didn’t get things. She whined and whined.” Sam grabs the jerky and puts it down with the of stuff and Y/N smiles. The ride to the bunker is an half hour away and Y/N becomes very impatient.
“Are we there yet?” She grunts tugging on her seatbelt. “We get there when we get there Y/N.” Dean answers annoyed. “Why do you have to be such a meany?” She yells. Sam stops Dean before he can even talk back. “Hey princess let’s play a game.” Sam says turning around in his seat. “Okay!”
“Let’s play the license plate game.”
“Yay okay!” Y/N props herself on the seat and looks out the window. There isn’t much cars on the road and she eventually falls asleep from boredom. When they arrive Sam carries Y/N down the stairs seeing Cas sitting in the war room. “Who’s the child?” He questions noticing a sleeping Y/N in Sam’s arms.
“Cas it’s Y/N.” He chuckles. “Y/N isn’t two feet tall.”
“She got hit by some mumbo jumbo powder and now she’s four years old so we need to find a way to reverse it.” Dean explains as they walk to the kitchen. “Cas would you mind taking her to her room?” Sam ask. Cas hesitates at first and nods. Sam passes her gently so she doesn’t wake up. She stirs in Cas’s arms for a moment and becomes still again. He takes her to her room settling her down on the bed. He admires her small body seeing fully that it clearly was Y/N. He remembers Y/N showing him some pictures of her and boys when they were younger.
An hour goes passed and the boys sit in the library reading some books. “Do children usually nap for this long?” Cas questions. “You have a point totally forgot. She’s too quiet now that I realize.” Sam intervenes. “Oh no.” Dean mumbles getting up. “What? What is it?” Cas questions following them to the kitchen.
“Whenever Y/N was quiet it meant that she’s was either hiding something or she’s going through the pantry for cand—”
Sure enough when they reach the kitchen they see a stash of candy wrappers opened along with other snacks, but that wasn’t the problem. This was Dean’s secret stash. “Son of bitch.” He stomps his boot. “If she throws up, I’m blaming you!” Dean scolds at Sam with a pointed finger. They go into the hallways to look for her. “Y/N!” Dean screams. He goes to her room not seeing her there and is about to leave till he hears shuffling from the closet. He slowly walks up to the closet grabbing the door knobs and swings them open spotting the little ballerina with a chocolate stained mouth.
“THERE YOU ARE!” She screams crawling through Deans legs and makes a run for it in the hallway.
“Sammy get her!” He screams. Sam sees a small body dart across the hallway. He runs after her but loses her once he turns the corner. Five minutes go by and Dean doesn’t find her. “I’m tried of playing games Y/N come out now or it’s time out for you!” After three minutes of searching he meets in the war room with Sam. “She’s in so much trouble!” Dean grunts. “Dean, why are you so mad at her?”
“She ate my stuff!”
“No, not that. I mean ever since she turned you’ve been a meany like she said what’s up with that?” Dean doesn’t answer and looks away. Sam stands there waiting for the answer. Dean mumbles something inaudible he can’t hear. “What?”
“I said she likes you better then me.” He confesses. “Dean, what are you talking about?” He sighs before he answers.
“Every since Y/N was little she always liked you best. She was stuck to you like glue.” Sam stands there in shock. “Dean, she loves you a lot you know?” He raises an eyebrow hearing this. “Anytime you and dad were gone Y/N never shut about you. Asking me all these questions about cars and bugging me when you were gonna be back and how excited she was to learn how to gank monsters from her big brother. Besides you too spend a bunch of time together now. Why is this affecting you?”
“Is that true?”
“Yes, I was kinda jealous because I thought she liked you more. And to be honest I’m a little jealous. You guys have a closer bond than I have with her now.” Sam admits. Suddenly Cas emerges into the war room carrying a crying Y/N. “What happened?” Sam ask. “Well when I was chasing her down she fell and hurt her knee.” He lifts her leg up showing the ripped pink unitard with a cut that is now bleeding just a little and the torn tutu. He goes to hand her to Sam’s out stretched arms but she whimpers rejecting him.
“I want Dean.” She whimpers crying. Dean lifts his head up hearing this and gets a good look at his baby sister. Her arms reached out for him leaning away from Cas. Her eyes puffy and red from crying. Dean realizes that he’s been so stupid that he didn’t need to be jealous, because him and Y/N get along perfect now when she’s not a toddler. She whimpers putting her arms down thinking her big brother yet again is rejecting her today until he reaches out for her and she quickly wraps her arms around his neck. “You okay?” He ask softly wiping her tear stained face. “No.” Y/N croaks shaking her head and he takes her to his room. He sets her down on his bed and helps her in one of his t-shirts after cleaning her face.
“I’m sorry I ate your candy.” She apologies in her small voice. “No, I’m sorry for being a meany today, I was just jealous.”
“Why?” She ask with a tilt of her head.
“It’s a long story. But let’s get a bandaid on this shall we?” He gets the first aid kit and cleans her scratch up. “Tank you.” She says once he’s finished. “Dean.” She calls out to him when he puts the stuff away. “Yeah?”
“Can we watch some cowboy movies?” He smiles at this and nods his head. “Sure thing sweetheart.” He sets the movie in his room while Cas helps her pop the popcorn. Half way through the movie Y/N starts falling asleep. He looks down under his arm seeing Y/N falling asleep with a piece of popcorn hanging of her bottom lip. “Getting sleepy there?” He lays down with her pulling the blanket up. “Frectles.” She mumbles. “What?” She puts one tiny finger in his face and says it again. “Frectles.” He frowns then gasp realizing what she meant. “You mean freckles.” He chuckles. “Yeah you has those.”
It was getting a little crowded in Heaven, so God decided to change the admittance policy. The new law was that in order to get into Heaven, you had to have a really bad day on the day that you died. The policy would go into effect at noon the next day.
So, the next day at 12:01 the first person came to the gates of Heaven.
The Angel at the gate, remembering the new policy, promptly asked the man, “Before I let you in, I need you to tell me how your day was going when you died.”
“No Problem,” the man said. “I came home to my 25th-floor apartment on my lunch hour and caught my wife having an affair. But her lover was nowhere in sight. I immediately began searching for him. My wife was half naked and yelling at me as I searched the entire apartment. Just as I was about to give up, I happened to glance out onto the balcony and noticed that there was a man hanging off the edge by his fingertips! The nerve of that guy!
I ran out onto the balcony and stomped on his fingers until he fell to the ground. But wouldn’t you know it, he landed in some trees and bushes that broke his fall and he didn’t die. In a rage, the first thing I thought of was the refrigerator. I pushed it out onto the balcony and tipped it over the side. It plummeted 25 stories and crushed him! The excitement of the moment was so great that I had a heart attack and died almost instantly.”
The Angel sat back and thought a moment. Technically, the guy did have a bad day. It was a crime of passion. So, the Angel announced, “OK, sir. Welcome to the Kingdom of Heaven,” and let him in.
A few seconds later the next guy came up. “Hi there. Before I can let you in, I need to hear about what your day was like when you died.”
The guy sighs and says: “No problem. But you’re not going to believe this. I was on the balcony of my 26th floor apartment doing my daily exercises. I had been under a lot of pressure so I was really pushing hard to relieve my stress. I guess I got a little carried away, slipped, and accidentally fell over the side! Luckily, I was able to catch myself by the fingertips on the balcony below mine.
Then this crazy man comes running out of his apartment, starts cussing, and stomps on my fingers. Well, of course I fell. I hit some trees and bushes at the bottom, which broke my fall, so I didn’t die right away. As I’m lying there face up on the ground, unable to move and in excruciating pain, I see this guy push his refrigerator, of all things, off the balcony. It falls 25 floors and lands on top of me, killing me instantly.”
The Angel is quietly laughing to himself as the man finishes his story. “I could get used to this new policy,” he thinks to himself. “very well,” the Angel announces. "Welcome to the Kingdom of Heaven,“ and he lets him enter.
A few seconds later, a third guy comes up to the gate. Finally he says, “And what was YOUR day like?”
The guy says, “OK, picture this. I’m naked, inside a refrigerator…”
WELCOME TO AUSTRALIA NICK ENJOY THE SPIDERS AND MOTHER NATURE'S MOOD SWINGS //it's downpours one day and glorious blue skies the next about as consistent as Fai's ability to tell the truth - Tsubasa anon ❀.(*´▽`*)❀.
THANK YOU! I VERY MUCH ENJOYED AUSTRALIA!
It was “cold” (for Australia) all week long and it even rained briefly. Which is a thousand times better than Summer weather in any situation.
Since this one’s going to be longer than usual, we’ll have a split play today to give everyone (but mostly me) a break. I’m looking to start today between 1:30 and 2pm US Pacific, and around 4pm I’ll start looking for a good stopping point. Then we’ll pause, and pick back up about an hour and a half, two hours after that, and run to the episode’s end!
As always, I’ll be recording the streams, so anyone who can’t make it will be able to watch along later.
Whew….you mean the most grueling, unforgivable, taxing writing task ever!?!?
My final proofread is me reading it aloud, at half speed, in a different accent. I sometimes read it backwards by paragraph if I don’t trust myself. I can only proofread if I haven’t seen the document in at least 12 hours (must have “fresh eyes”).
So.... I believe I've had my first panic attack (ever) today...
I don’t really know how to describe it… I just couldn’t stop shaking and was having a hard time even just breathing. I was crying and just didn’t know why. It just grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. My dad tried so hard to help me calm down and it took about half an hour, some Nutter Butters, and a Mountain Dew, and a lot of just breathing to finally get me to simmer down…
I was really terrified to say the least, and it was mainly because I didn’t understand why this came on. I'm still shaky but not as bad as I was when it happened.
Any confirmation or thoughts I can get from anyone? I’m still iffy about what it actually was, and it would help if I knew…
I am a male who lives in relatively nice neighborhood
It’s your average small town run of the mill suburbs area with not a lot of people.
I am a college kid who’s home on break while my parents have gone away which doesn’t help at all.
I have a two story house
I do not have gun nor do I have any real weapons other than kitchen knives
I am not on any medication and I have no record of schizophrenia or any other mental illnesses
I barely have any relationships with my neighbors most of whom are elderly and the rest I have minimal contact with
I do not have any people in my neighborhood (that I know of) who have reasons to attack or harm me
Now, let’s get into what has been happening. About two nights ago I
woke up very late in the night and I went to the bathroom to go take a
shit. Now, my second story bathroom has a window that can see the
entirety of my backyard. Directly behind it is a cul de sac which you
can see directly into. There is a group of trees and pile of rocks and
mulch that divides it. Usually I can see everything in my backroom
without turning on my because lights from my neighbor’s house dimly
lights the room.
I see your Frat Boy Vitya headcanons and I raise you:
Yuuri Katsuki being dragged to his first frat party after line three years at college spent just trying to blend into whatever wall is nearest. This is never going to happen and Yuuri thinks it’s because everyone is just amazed at how little of his shit he has together.
(They aren’t. “Fucking LOOK at him,” sighs many a sexually frustrated undergrad while pining loudly in Yuuri’s direction. Yuuri scuttles away with his hood closed almost completely around his face.)
Yuuri arrives at the party and immediately finds The Dog.
“There’s a dog here,” he tells Phichit, and spends the next three hours sitting on the floor with the dog.
“How are you?” he asks the dog very seriously as the dog slowly licks his shoulder. This is a Premium Dog. “Yes, good. Is my shoulder tasty? I’m so glad. I’m so glad you find my shoulder tasty. Whose dog are you?” The dog’s tags are in Cyrillic, which is really weird. Yuuri squints at the tag and finally says, “Whoever Binktop is, he has a really good dog.”
“Makkachin,” someone says eventually, and the dog gets up and goes to the interloper.
“No, come back,” Yuuri whimpers as the dog leaves. He doesn’t go far–the guy who called him is standing on the edge of he crowd wearing Chinos and Gucci sunglasses.
They’re inside. At night.
“Are you Binktop?” Yuuri asks him blearily. People have been bringing him drinks the whole time he’s been sitting with the dog and he doesn’t know what that’s about. Probably they feel sorry for him.
(”I brought him a drink, Chad,” says a certain dejected brother of Iota Sigma Upsilon. “He took it but he looked like he was going to cry. All he said was I don’t need your pity. I don’t understand?”)
“Excuse me?” asks Binktop. There is some sort of expensive imported cider in his hand. He looks down at his dog as though he will know the answer.
Yuuri points at the dog’s tags. “Binktop. His owner.”
“Oh,” says Binktop. He bends down to show Yuuri that, on the backside of the tag he’d been looking at, the same information is listed in English. “No. Viktor.”
Yuuri frowns and squints. “You look more like a Binktop to me.” He holds out a hand for Makkachin the Dog and waits until he comes to sniff it. “You have a really good dog, Binktop. He’s a great dog.”
“You’re that figure skater, right?” Binktop asks, crouching down next to his dog. “Yuuri Katsuki?”
“Yes,” Yuuri sighs dejectedly. “That’s me.”
“Sick,” Binktop says.
“Yes, I am,” Yuuri says. “Do you have a bathroom, Binktop?”
He and Binktop spend half the night on the floor of the president of Iota Sigma Upsilon’s en-suite bathroom. Yuuri doesn’t know why Binktop chose to bring him to this bathroom, but it’s the one they’re in. Binktop doesn’t really seem interested in leaving, either. He holds Yuuri’s hair for him and listens to him talk about his family. Makkachin the Really Good Dog is there.
“It would probably be a good idea if you stayed here tonight,” Binktop says slowly after several hours of this. Yuuri stopped puking a awhile ago, thankfully. “I don’t know who you came here with, or where you live. I don’t think you do either.”
“Okay, I’m just gonna–” Yuuri climbs into the shower and curls up at the bottom. “This is good. I’m gonna sleep here, okay Binktop?”
“You could–I mean, if you want–my bed is softer.”
Yuuri glares at Binktop over his shoulder.
“No! I swear, no funny business. I’ll crash in Chris’ room. Or Micky or–someone, I promise.”
Binktop helps Yuuri get into bed and leaves a bucket next to him and makes him drink a glass of water. When he tries to take Makkachin with him, Yuuri tosses the covers back and says, “The good boy stays,” and Makkachin hops up. Binktop looks at Yuuri like he’s stolen something from him. The dog, probably.
(”I’m in love,” Viktor says to Chris later that night, swooning on Chris’ floor. “He stole my heart, right there!”)
Yuuri finds out later that Binktop is, in fact, Viktor Nikiforov. Viktor Nikiforov whose parents are major benefactors to the university. The gym where Yuuri trains is called the Nikiforov Intramural Sports Complex.
Viktor Nikiforov is the president of Iota Sigma Upsilon.
“Oh shit,” Yuuri whispers to himself.
“Do you want to go to breakfast?” Viktor Nikiforov asks him, looking a little less douchy in the light of day. Now that he’s not dressed up for a party, he’s wearing normal-person clothes, jeans and a university sweatshirt. His hair is ungelled and he looks nice and handsome. “I’ll walk you home first so you can change.”
“Okay,” Yuuri says softly.
Yuuri goes to breakfast with Viktor Nikiforov and then goes back to the Iota Sigma Upsilon house, where Viktor skillfully eats him out and announces that he intends to become Yuuri’s boyfriend.
The brothers of Iota Sigma Upsilon hoot and holler at Yuuri and Viktor’s wedding when Chris gets up with a microphone and says, “Let me tell you about how Yuuri and Viktor met! It started with a party and a dog…”
I can see her through the window. She walks up to the door, she leaves this box and goes. I didn’t get up, i figured if it was important, she would have knocked. Rang the doorbell or something, right? And i should have gone out there. I should have talked to her. But… look, i liked Hannah. She was a friend, but the girl was a lot. She was drama. And i was apparently the only guy at Liberty who didn’t grab her ass or stare at her tits. And so i always got to hear about it and on that particular day, i didn’t want to deal so i let her walk away. Half hour, forty-five minutes later, i get the box, open them and there’s these tapes and a letter. “Please take care of these. Listen and you’ll know how.” I started listening to the first tape. And then… i try calling the Bakers. They didn’t answer, i fucking speed to her house. The ambulance is already there. And the cops. And the front door’s open, i run inside. Her parents are there. They’ve got her in a body bag. I remember thinking “There’s no handles on that bag. How are they gonna pick her up? How are they gonna carry her?” And they just grabbed the bag and threw her in the ambulance. Just like that.
A/N: Long fics might be turning into my new aesthetic. I’m sorry.
You never truly believed in love at first sight ― there was no reason to. The very idea seemed far too preposterous to be taken seriously, too ludicrous to exist outside of dreamy movies or forgotten fairy tales. How could two strangers cultivate such deep, mesmerizing emotion in the mere seconds they held a glance? How was it possible for them to simply know of their fate in the short amount of time they encountered each other? ― No; there were no soulmates, no predestined encounters. At least not for you. For you, there was only the faint ghost of a broken heart, the haunting of crumbled expectations; and the strong, determined promise to never fool yourself into another failed attempt at romance.
When you first saw him, however, you felt like the cosmos had morphed into static.
We had a massive chat. Sat down for like two and a half, three hours or something. It was really, really long, but it was really good. There was a lot to talk about. There was talking about how it is now being a solo artist. How it was writing the record. How you even start to write a solo record. Where he wrote it. He spoke all about making the album, and basically having to become a solo artist and that pressure of knowing that the world are gonna want to hear this and are going want to judge it as well. But we played it in the room, and it’s so good. It’s really, really good. And it’s much - no offense - it’s much better than I thought it was gonna be.
Nick Grimshaw talking about his interview with Harry
So the patronus isn’t straight up taught in Hogwarts, as a wise professor once said, it’s a ‘highly advanced spell, well beyond O.W.L level’
But you know, this is the marauders, the rebellious little nerds that we all know and love.
So James got hold of a book from the library one day about how to do the patronus and it seemed very cool. Not the whole fighting dementors part, but the distant and simple communication? priceless for a marauder.
And so they all stayed up one night trying to learn how to do it.
Sirius was actually the first to successfully do the spell. He had spent the last hour lavishly flinging his wand in the air shouting ‘Expecto Patronum!’ to no avail. Them Remus told him he should try to think of a happier memory.
He thought of the first time he had called Euphemia Potter ‘mum’. It had been an accident and had really just slipped out. He had been so embarrassed. But none of the Potter’s seemed to have noticed. A few moments later James had turned over to Sirius and said.’Could you pass your brother the salt then?’
And Sirius had never felt more part of a family in his life.
He was so engrossed in the memory he didn’t even notice the frantic black dog shoot out to his wand and knock Peter onto his backside.
Peter was next, he was thinking of the moment when some of the Slytherins had been bullying him earlier one day in first year and he had been crying down by the lake all afternoon, only to have Remus come up and sit behind him, rubbing his back and comforting him. Then Sirius and James had pushed the Slytherins into the Black lake right in front of him. How they had laughed. Real friends.
The small rat that scurried out of Peter’s wand that night was the first and last one Peter could ever produce. This was 6th year and soon the war became to much for the young boy.
Standing next to a struggling James, Remus was viciously whispering and flicking his wrists over and over again. ‘Expecto Patronum. Expecto Patronum. Expecto f’fucks sake. This is hopeless.’
‘You can do it Moony.’ Sirius smiled.
Remus thought about the first time he had kissed the stupid black haired Gryffindor in front of him. Sirius had been stealing something out of one of the cupboards along the school corridors when Remus had caught him on prefect rounds.
Looking back on it Remus couldn’t help but laugh at how unsubtle Sirius had been about the whole thing. ‘Oh, we seem to have bumped into each other Moons’ ‘What a coincidence.’ Remus of course had just assumed Sirius was trying to tease him into giving him detention, something Remus would never do, and had ended up getting pretty annoyed and flustered about being this close to Sirius in a small space and omg he could feel the heat of his skin and ah this was too much and he couldn’t stop talking.
Until Sirius closed that little gap between them to shut him up.
And Remus had never been happier. And he had never looked back.
And then a large animal came running out of the end of his wand, and Remus thought to himself.
‘It’s a dog! Sirius and I have the same Patronus!’
Only Remus’ was much bigger than Sirius’ dog… and it’s tail was bushier.. and did it just howl?
No. This wasn’t fair. Not this. That wasn’t how this was supposed t be. It was meant to be a happy memory. This wasn’t fair, after all this time, the one thing he thought he could share with his boyfriend.. and this was what he gets… another reminder about how imperfect and unworthy and unwanted…
And then there was Sirius standing next to him, sliding his arm around his back and kissing him gently on the cheek.
‘I love it.’ He whispered.
‘ ‘s not fair.’ Remus mumbled.
‘Remus look.’ Sirius replied. ‘it’s not that. It’s a wolf. A normal wolf. A loyal and pack having, friendly wolf.’
And Sirius was grinning.
But Remus just shrugged.
James was having the most trouble of them all.
Something was wrong, he just couldn’t seem to do it. He kept thinking of happy memories, first time he rode a broom, first time Sirius came to stay, first time he transformed into a stag.
And still nothing.
Tiny wisps of silver.
And then nothing.
‘It’s fine James, we already know what it’s going to be.’
‘I know,’ James replied through gritted teeth. ‘I just want to see it.’
And he was so fustrated.
And making a crap load of noise about it too.
So much noise in fact, that he started to wake the other residents of the Gryffindor tower up from their slumber.
And so a very grumpy and tired Lily Evans came storming down the staircase.
‘What in Merlin’s name are you twats doing now!’
‘Ah Evans.’ Sirius grinned. ‘care to join us?’
‘It’s three in the fucking morning Black! I’m supposed to be sleeping, except someone has been screaming for the past half hour about how hard this is and he trying but it’s not working, and I can’t tell if James is finally losing his virginity or doing his homework for once, but what I do know is that it’s stopping me from being able to enjoy the few hours of the day that I don’t have to be around you lot.’
A rather deeply embarrassed James pushed past a bent-over-with-laughter Sirius.
‘Actually Lily,’ he said, trying to act suave and like he hand’t just heard the last bit. ‘We are trying to do the patronus charm.’
This had peaked Lily’s interest, and although she knew better, she asked. ‘Really? The patronus charm? Wow. A proper one?’
‘Yepp.’ peter chimed in. ‘And we’ve all been able to do it, except for James.’
Lily cocked her eyebrow.
‘Oh.’ She smiled. ‘Let me try then.’
James, not wanting to be shown up any more by the fiery red head who was hopelessly in love with, quickly butted in. ‘No no. I mean, you can try.. but its really hard and took everyone ages to master and you’ll be up all night trying and-’
‘Potter.’ She replied sternly.
It only took her three attempts.
And there it was.
A beautiful silver shimmering doe burst through the tip of her wand and gracefully ran across the common room, galloping past it occupants before turning and vanishing as Lily dropped her arm. She grinned.
‘See? Not so hard then.’
James just stared. Open mouthed. Like the rest of the marauders. Dumb-founded in total and complete shock, until Lily just gave up on them and went back off to bed.
James didn’t have any trouble producing a Patronus after that.
Summary: The reader can’t stand Dean shaving all the time so she takes action!
A/N: Have you guys ever fantasized about Dean’s facial hair? If your answer is yes, this is the perfect fic for you!
It all started on a hunt a
while back when you and Dean were stuck in a motel in the middle of nowhere.
Dean had forgotten to pack his razor and since there was no drugstore in sight,
he didn’t care which resulted in the sexy scruff that was starting to show
itself on his cheeks.
Of course you didn’t mind.
The opposite was the case actually. Watching him sit at the coffee table with
his left elbow propped up, his heavenly scruffy face resting on his hand, was a
view you thoroughly enjoyed.
Sadly, the morning after
you guys returned to the bunker your new favorite thing about Dean was gone.
You could have simply told him to keep it but you couldn’t stand seeing that
self-satisfied smirk you were sure would play across his full lips once you admitted your weakness.
The next time you went on a
hunt Dean did not forget to pack his razor, much to your disappointment.
But you came up with
something that would hopefully work. Now it was your turn to smirk.
“I’m going to grab us
something to eat. I’ll be back in half an hour,” your gorgeous, green-eyed
boyfriend told you before he left the room.
Time to get to work.
You made your way to Dean’s
duffel bag and after searching through it for a few seconds you found the evil
object which kept that amazing scruff away from you.
Discarding it quickly you
stood in the middle of the room but your victory was short lived. You knew Dean
would go to the drugstore next to the motel to get a new one when he wouldn’t
be able to find it, so you needed a backup plan.
Some may think that you
were crazy for doing this but you didn’t care. You were firmly determined to go
to all extents in order to accomplish your mission.
Sam hasn’t been blackout drunk for a couple of years, not since the night that he got Dean back from demonhood and put away nearly an entire bottle of Jack. That time he woke up face down in his pillows, fully clothed with his dislocated shoulder shooting violent bolts of pain down his spine. This time, he comes to with the sky wheeling white above him, his clothes damp and his knees muddy and twigs and leaves in his hair. He sits up, hauls himself to his feet and staggers forward a dozen yards or so to emerge onto a jogging track, a woman in bright lycra thudding past with headphones in her ears. His legs are bruised and aching and his mind is… fuck, so foggy, a great roiling cloud of nothingness, and he has to stop thinking about that right fucking now if he wants to stay calm. He runs his hands through his hair, dislodging a beetle and a shower of debris, tries to straighten up his clothes. He finds his phone in his pocket, the screen shattered and dead. Great. But the next woman down the track has a guy alongside her, a personal trainer maybe, so Sam steps forward hoping that he won’t intimidate them both away.
“Hey,” he says, hoarse. “Can I – I’m sorry. Can I borrow your phone?”
I cannot believe it has been so long since I posted and I’m sorry, truly, that it’s taken me forever and a day to get my ass in gear. But due to recent events, I felt inspired to write something and I’m actually really, really happy with how this turned out!
Also, I owe a huge thank you to @permanentcross for giving me advice and reassuring me this wasn’t crap and to @canistay-haz for being her wonderful, loving self and telling me I don’t suck. You both are so, so lovely and I’m lucky that I can ask you for advice when I’m not confident in my writing.
Normally, Saturday mornings would be reserved for sleeping in, lazy kisses, and barely audible gasps filling your ears. Today however, you and Harry had to be somewhat functioning adults. You were having one last get together with Harry’s closest friends and family before his life was sent into the spotlight for who knows how long, and he didn’t get to be as free and open with his time as he had been.
You woke up about half an hour after Harry did, knowing you had things to do and people to see but you were having none of it. All you could think about was the slight yet very-much-still-there tingling sensation between your legs thanks to yours and Harry’s late night rendezvous. You smiled to yourself, rolling over and letting your face collide into Harry’s pillow, inhaling his lingering scent that made you want him all over again…
You made your way downstairs to your boyfriend, legs bare and torso covered in his ridiculously baggy pink shirt that was littered with the white polka dots, your rear just barely peeking out at the bottom hem. Harry was sporting only a pair of grey joggers that hung much too low on his hips, not that you were complaining.
“Morning, sunshine.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, peppering his back with tiny pecks.
“G’morning, poppet. Sleep okay?” Every morning after, without fail, he asks how you slept. He asks because he knows when you’re both in the heat of the moment, sex isn’t gentle. Not that it’s animalistic, but you and Harry like what you like and making sure you’re comfortable and properly taken care of after is an essential part of his aftercare routine; he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take care of you and pamper any part that might be slightly bruised or extra loved on. He does love a routine after all…
“Mhm,” you purr into his back, pecking his skin once more before he spins around in your grasp, your arms falling to your sides while he places one hand on your cheek and encloses your mouth with his.
“Good,” he smiles down at you, pecking your cheek before turning back to the countertop where you can see he’s been preparing a dessert for the get together later that night.
“Whatcha makin’?” you ask, hopping upon the countertop, legs swinging back and forth while eyeing the bowl of plain raspberries and the graham cracker crust that was still sitting in the tart pan Harry insisted he needed.
“How does a raspberry tart for tonight sound? Bought the pan, figured there was no use in letting it sit in the cupboard.”
You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle. There was nothing comical about the dessert in and of itself, but you were feeling some type of way this morning and you couldn’t help but think of it in a provocative way.
Harry rolled his eyes, trying not to grin, “Why is that funny?”
You just giggled again and reached to kiss him on the cheek, “Maybe I wanna be your little raspberry tart. I already have the perfect shirt on.” Although you’d been sitting on the countertop for a good minute already, Harry had just noticed how his shirt had ridden up your thighs and he swallowed hard, also taking in how you had only the bottom two buttons fastened and there was little, if anything, left to the imagination. What Harry didn’t know was that you didn’t have anything covering the part of you that wanted him the most; he figured you’d just thrown on something skimpy just to torture him but no, you were completely bare, apart from the bottom of the hem under your bum, and sitting on your boyfriend’s counter. Harry didn’t have a prayer.
You smirked at him cheekily and even though you’d had him not even eight hours before, he could tell you still had an appetite for something else, something that filled you in a different way.
plot: zach decides to (nervously) confront you after finding out you’re the one slipping compliments in his bag
a/n: i Cannot believe a 2nd part was requested i cant believe you guys enjoyed the first part and sent me messages!! i wasn’t planning on writing this but here she is since y’all are cute as heck
Thursday night found Zach Dempsey sprawled
on his bed.
A week worth of complimentary notes was at
the foot of the bed. Some were folded, some all the way open but none of them were in their original, pristine state. They were crumpled, thing that probably happened
whenever the boy stuffed them in his pockets.
If you’ve got the time and the inclination, what’s to stop you showing up on the hour at any lecture hall at any university and becoming the guest lecturer? Nothing, that’s what! Professors are always late and campus police don’t know the difference. All you need to do is walk in and get talking.
“What’s this class all about?” is a great opener. While you wait for someone to raise their hand and say “noses”, or “smelling”, or “science”, draw a big rectangle on the blackboard. You can always use a rectangle.
When some kid says “Last week the professor said we’d be looking neurological processing of olfactory stimuli,” you can shake your head and smile and say “just explain it to me like I’m 10 years old.”
This time they’ll definitely say “smelling”, and you can turn that rectangle on the blackboard into a truck.
“Imagine a truck,” you could say. “It’s parked on your top lip. And when you smell something, the men load up all that smelling information into the back of the truck. Who can tell me what comes next?”
Wait for them to say “they drive the truck up your nose,” then say “Exactly! They begin the perilous journey up your nose. They’ll dodge all the boogers and thick black hairs, and finally they’ll arrive at your brain.”
Next, discredit the professor who’s walked in. “You slept with a student!” is a classic for a reason. Even if he hasn’t, he won’t stick around to argue the point!
“When the truck arrives at the brain, the men unload the truck and they show all the smells to the loading dock workers. They decide whether something is a good smell or a bad smell. Sometimes, the workers get confused. Like people who think poop smells good! We’ve all got a friend like that. Who thinks that, by a show of hands?”
If no one raises their hand, you could try saying “It’s natural… how bad can a substance produced naturally by the human body be? It’s normal to be curious. What about you,” and here you want to point at someone in the front row, “you might be interested to know that I have a very natural diet. That means a great texture and aroma.”
If there are no takers, you probably still have half an hour to get to the next lecture hall. Good luck!
A witch’s curse hexes the three Winchester men and reader, leading to a night of desire that would change things forever.
Warnings: Explicit, Smut, Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Threesome (NO Wincest), Fingering, Language, Dom!John, discussion of being high, dirty talk, orgasm denial, squirting, spanking, mention of a panic attack, Feels, A lil fluff, lack of protection, canon divergence. To be clear- the characters have all consented to all sexual acts in this story.
This fic had a mind of its own but I love it. I hope you do too :)
The Impala rolled into a parking space on the street and Sam killed the engine. I straightened the sleeves of my navy fed suit, and looked over at him.
“You really think she’s going to know anything?” Sam pestered, looking through the window.
“Witnesses said two of the victims had been here to see her for readings.” I responded, climbing out of the car. I patted my jacket pocket to make sure I still had my fake FBI badge. “She does readings on love and relationships.”
Sam rolled his eyes as we walked up the sidewalk to the old house.
“What if she’s really psychic then? She’ll know we’re hunters.” Sam suggested sarcastically as he looked over his shoulder to the street.
“Then we’ll improvise. It’ll be fine, Sam.” I responded, looking around the front porch. A bright Psychic Reader sign lit up the front window.