canvas duffle

Urgent Care part 2/(??)

A/N: Alright, since several people asked for a second part and I was hit with a bit of inspiration, we’ve got a second part of urgent care! I tried to continue with the civil war spin-off, so I hope you guys like it!!

Word Count: 2852

Warnings: None

Part 1

“How could I have let you rope me into staying?” I whine.

“Because you love me and I don’t want you to leave.” Natasha answers simply.


“Why are you scowling like that, (Y/N)?” I look up, shielding my eyes against the sun with my hand to find Peggy standing a short ways off.


“Don’t distract her, that’s her thinking face.” Natasha says, smirk firmly in place.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I grumble, folding my arms across my chest, leaning back against the tree behind me and pouting at the grass.

“Was there something you needed Ms. Carter?” Natasha asks, crossing her ankles.

“Steve is waiting for you in the hangar, (Y/N).” Peggy says, looking directly at me instead of Natasha.

“Oh shit, is it really that time already?”

“Have you not been paying attention to the time?”

“Well, based on the fact that I’m trying to ignore the fact that I’m still stuck in this compound, no. No I have not.” I haul myself to my feet and brush any bits of grass from my bum before turning towards the facility entrance. “Anything I should know before I head down there?”

“Anthony will not be joining you, if that’s what you’re fishing for.”

I heave a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”

Peggy snorts in derision and shakes her head. “Why the two of you can’t get along, I’ll never know.”

“It’s because they’re so incredibly alike that they can’t come to any sort of compromise.” Natasha offers. “So, instead of trying to be friendly, they just butt heads at every single opportunity.”

“That might just be it, Ms. Romanoff.” Ms. Carter agrees, addressing Natasha formally. They’ve known each other for going on three weeks and they still insist upon referring to each other by their surnames. “You should go to the hangar. Steve doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

I nod once. “Alright, thank you for letting me know.”

Natasha and Peggy wave to me as I head down to the hangar.

It takes me about ten minutes to finally reach the hangar and locate the quinjet Steve decided to use. He’s standing just inches away from the ramp, tapping almost angrily at the screen of the tablet in his hand.

“Careful,” I warn. “You might crack the screen jabbing at it like that.”

Steve’s shoulders jump slightly, the only indication that I was able to startle him. He slowly looks around before catching sight of me and smiling sheepishly. “About time you got here. I thought you were going to bail on me there for a bit.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t do that. I’d just make you wait till you decided to just leave without me and suddenly appear, as if out of nowhere, and scare the crap out of you.”

“It seems like you’ve already done that.”

I smirk at him. “I rest my case.”

Steve rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Is there anything you have to grab before we leave?”

“Yeah, just a sec.” I turn away from him and cup my hands around my mouth. “HEY, FREDDY.”

“WHAT.” The response comes almost instantly.




“OKAY,” The hangar falls silent for a moment. “JUST GIMME A SEC TO FIND IT.”


“No rush?” Steve questions, one eyebrow arched questioningly.

“He literally only needs one second,” I say, holding out my hand in time to catch the handles of a brown, canvas duffle bag. “THANKS, MAN.”

“ANY TIME, (Y/N).”

“Who the hell is that?” Steve asks.

“That’s Freddy. He’s cool.” I answer, slinging the bag over my shoulder and heading into the quinjet.

“How did he do that?”

“He’s an inhuman, but he doesn’t want anyone knowing about it, okay? You tell anyone what you saw, and you won’t be able to move for a month.” I warn.

“How do you know then?”

“Well, it’s simple really. He and I were in the same room when a terrigen crystal fell on the floor and shattered. We went through the mists together.” I toss my bag onto a seat along the wall of the jet before turning around, hands on my hips, to face Steve. “He and I are well versed in the ways you Avengers types react to new people with powers. The only reason I was confident in you knowing what I could do is because I worked closely enough with you for you to know that I wouldn’t misuse my gift. So, don’t tell anyone, alright? The threat still stands.”

Steve holds up his hands in surrender and steps around me to reach the pilot’s chair. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.” I nod resolutely and take my seat a short ways away from him. “Whaddaya think Bucharest is like this time of year?”

Ma’am, have you seen this man before?” I ask the kind looking old woman manning a produce stand.

Oh yes!” The woman answers happily. “In fact, he was just here a few hours ago! He buys produce from my sister and I every couple of days or so. Such a kind young man.” She blinks up at me a few times, her brows knitting together. “Is he in trouble?

Not at all! He helped out my friend a few years back and I was hoping I could thank him.

What a nice child you are. Please let him know I said hello!”

“I’ll be sure to!”

I quickly cross the street to meet a poorly disguised Steve at a coffee cart.

“Any news?”

“Yes, you look like Steve Rogers in a baseball cap and aviators.” Steve scowls at me. “Aren’t they supposed teach you how to blend in in the army? Not even in S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“(Y/N).” He says, his tone warning.

I roll my eyes and shove my hands in my pockets. “The nice old lady at the produce stand says she saw him a few hours ago. He’s definitely here, I just don’t know where he’s staying.”

“Not even an approximate location?” I shake my head. “Didn’t your contact give you any information?”

“I never asked for specifics, okay? I didn’t think I’d be stuck with you on this mission. This was supposed to be a field trip for you and Wilson or whoever it is your besties with these days.”

“Well Sam’s not here, so I need your help with this.” Steve says gruffly. “Is there anyone else you could possibly find that might know where he is?”

I scowl at the ground, trying to think for a moment. “He’s lost an arm, right?”

“Yes, his left one. Why?”

“Everyone has a different energy and, if I concentrate, I can see the shapes of their energies. His prosthetic should have a different signature than the rest of his body or, if we’re really lucky, it won’t have any signature at all.” Taking a knee, I press the palms of my hands flat against the rough concrete of the sidewalk.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m concentrating really, really hard.” I snap. “If you interrupt again, I’ll put you on your ass, and you know I can’t carry you back to the quinjet.”

Steve backs away from me, hands held out in surrender.

I take a deep breath and press my hands more firmly to the concrete, and close my eyes.

Slowly releasing the breath I was holding, I extend the reach of my power through the city, searching for Bucky’s unique energy signature.

It’s easy to pinpoint several types of signatures right off the bat. Men, women and children are the easiest, followed by pregnant people, who have two energies mixed inside them. There are hundreds of thousands of people in this city and the sheer number of them is overwhelming.

In my search I see several amputees, all of them missing different limbs, some of them having lost more than one. Thankfully, there’s only one signature that could be the man I’m looking for. Their energy is a silver blue that vacillates between dull and blindingly bright. A dull dark gray sits in the place where their left arm should be and I know I’ve found our man.

“I’ve got him.” I announce, pushing myself off the ground and brushing my hands off on my jeans.

“What?” Steve asks, dumbfounded.

“I said I found your boyfriend, Rogers.” A dark blush spreads across his cheeks.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and refuses to look at me.

“Really?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow.

“He’s not!” He insists. I shake my head and he glares at me. “Can we please just go find him?”

I snort and nod once. “Yeah, sure, his apartment building is this way.” I say, jerking my thumb over my shoulder and turning on my heel, not bothering to wait for him before walking off.

We make it about five blocks before I have to stop and hone in on Bucky’s energy signature again. From what I can tell, we’re about a block and a half away from his building and he hasn’t moved much since I last checked on him, which seems a bit odd.

“You’re making a face,” Steve observes.

“Your friend hasn’t moved since I last checked in on him fifteen minutes ago.” My brow furrows. “Does that seem strange to you?”

“It does,” Steve’s eyes travel up the height of the apartment building. “What floor is he on?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and concentrate on Bucky’s energy. “Tenth Floor, second door off the staircase.”

Steve nods before walking off down the pavement, shoulders set, his pace quite fast.

I heave out a sigh and take off after him, having to jog just to keep up with him. At the pace Steve has set we make it to the apartment building in about five minutes.

Steve bursts through the door and hurtles up the stairs and I have to work to stay even just one flight behind him. Luckily enough I manage to tap into the energy I had stored up and take the stairs a two or three at a time, just barely managing to stay on his tail.

As soon as we hit the fifteenth floor, I put a hand on Steve’s chest to keep him from rushing into the room.

What?” he hisses.

I hold a finger to my lips. “Someone else is in there with him.” I whisper. “They’re both throwing off weird energy.”

“What are we supposed to do?”

“You kick in the door, I’ll take out whoever’s in there. I won’t hurt Barnes, but I can’t make any promises about the other person.”

Steve nods before slamming his boot against the door just about where the deadbolt would be.

The door crashes open with such force that the door knob lodging in the drywall when it makes contact.

As soon as I’m through the door I see a stout blond man, red book in hand, reading off a list of what I can only assume is gibberish, until I see Bucky on his hands and knees on the floor, breathing heavily, teeth gritted and eyes squeezed shut. The blond man then registers as a threat and I slap my hand against the back of his neck and tighten my grip, draining him of enough energy to cause him to pass out.

Once he’s crumpled to the floor I zip tie his hands and feet together before making my way over to Bucky who’s still on the floor taking deep gasping breaths, trying to calm himself.

I place a gentle hand on his shoulder only to have him whip his head to the side to look at me, his eyes wild. I can feel his heart racing, adrenaline coursing through his body, so I siphon off a little bit of the excess energy his body is throwing off in an attempt to calm him down. His shoulders almost immediately relax and the tension in his jaw loosens. When his breathing slows, I remove my hand from his shoulder, breaking the connection, and motion for Steve to come in.

Steve all but falls to his knees beside his friend, placing almost unsure hands on his shoulders. Bucky slowly lifts his head, his eyes dragging up Steve’s chest and over his face before meeting his eyes. Steve looks at him apprehensively, worry entirely evident in his body language.

“Steve?” Bucky croaks.

“Yeah, Buck, it’s me.” Steve says, eyes misting over. “Are you alright?”

“What-” His voice cracks and he has to stop and take a deep breath before he can continue. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to find you.” Steve says simply. “From what I can tell, it’s a good thing we showed up when we did.” Bucky’s only response is a half-hearted smirk.

The man on the floor begins to stir and I place my hand on the floor, searching out his energy signature and draining a little bit of excess energy and causing him to pass out again.

“How… how did you do that?” Bucky asks.

“I’m an inhuman. I can manipulate stored energy.” His eyes widen in fear and I hold up my hands defensively. “I’m not dangerous, I promise. I work with him.” I say, nodding my head to Steve.

Steve nods in affirmation. “She mainly works in the medbay. She’s not going to do anything to hurt you.”

“Alright.” He says, still eyeing me warily.

“What did that guy want with you?” Steve asks. I shoot him a look filled with warning and he chooses to ignore it.

“I don’t know.” Bucky shakes his head. “I just know he had the red book and that he wanted to reactivate me. And before you ask, no, I don’t know why.”

Steve nods his head in acceptance. “Okay.”

Now that the crisis has been averted I look around the apartment. In all honesty, there isn’t much to look at.

There’s a small kitchen with outdated appliances, slightly cluttered countertops and an island separating it from the rest of the one room apartment. There’s a small pile of notebooks on top of the fridge with what looks to be candy bars surrounding the pile. A mattress with practically nothing on it sits in the corner and a small set of shelves sits a short ways away with a few cinder blocks next to it. What they’re they’re for, I’m not entirely sure I want to know.

“Why are you hiding here?” I ask, turning my eyes back to Bucky.

“I didn’t think anyone would look for me here. I guess I was wrong.” He answers. “How did you even find me?”

“A few Inhumans in the area contacted me when they found out that Steve was looking for you.” I fold my legs underneath me and place my hands on my thighs. “I had no idea I was going to be here, but I’m glad I was.”

“Thank you for stopping him.” Bucky nods to me, sitting back on his calves, his breathing having finally slowed to a normal pace.

“Speaking of,” I shuffle over to the unconscious man on the floor and pat him down, looking for any form of identification. It doesn’t take me long to find his wallet. “Says here is name is Helmut Zeemo. Military. He’s from… oh fuck me.”


“Steve, he’s from Sokovia.” Flipping up one of the flaps in the wallet I find a family photo and my throat goes dry. “He had a family.”

“Do you think they were…” Steve trails off, looking at his hands. They’re trembling slightly. “Do you think they were there when the city came down?”

“Well… Didn’t Peggy say something about a bomb having been found at the UN when the Accords conference was set to happen?”

Steve stares at me blankly. “She did. Do you think this could have anything to do with that?”

“Steve, I realize you’re blond, but I know you’re not stupid.” He just gives me the same blank look and I roll my eyes. “Most of the team was supposed to be at the conference. If he blames the Avengers for his family’s deaths, then it would make sense for him to try to take them out as revenge.”

“So you think that when he failed at the UN he tried to go after people we consider family?”

I nod. “And he went after Bucky because of his affiliation with Hydra.”

“What are you trying to say?” Bucky asks.

“She’s saying that he wanted to use you to destroy the avengers and make it look like you did it of your own free will.” Steve answers. “As long as he’s the only person who knows about that book, then it would appear as though you actually wanted to attack us instead of you being controlled.”

“Oh.” Bucky murmurs.

“One question, Mr. Barnes,”

“What would that be?”

“Would you consider returning to New York with us? For safety’s sake, of course.”

Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked the piece please reply to the post or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!!!

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Double Request: KBTBB MC going through labour + Bidders and their newborns after the attack

Not quite related but kinda related: Bidders’ pregnant MC get attacked (Violence)

PT 2 (Comfort)


He had heard a lot of men screaming in his life. But nothing, nothing could have prepared for this. He had done all the research, mentally prepped to hold your hand and to wipe your sweat, but as he watched you shriek and thrash on the cot, he was completely stunned. He held your hand throughout and gently wiped your face every now and then, mumbling reassuring words to you as his heart ached watching you suffer through the labour.


The silence was blissful and peaceful now in the hospital room. Your husband had propped you against a stack of pillows, and he was cradling Katsumi in his arms. The dark eyes glowed with a proud, delicate tenderness you’ve never seen before, and you smile despite the fatigue.

“What is it?” He asked, looking up at you worriedly. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes.” You sip water again through your straw. The cool liquid felt good against the burning pain that throbbed between your legs. You had insisted turning the morphine down as much as possible, despite Soryu wanting you to be comfortable, and you grimaced as you leaned back against the pillows. Your husband scooted closer to you and held the infant out to you. Soryu gave a tender smile.

“She’s perfect, ________. Thank you.”

As you held the newborn in your arms, teasing at her round red face with your fingertip, motherly warmth blots out the memory of pain. Your husband patted your head lightly, still clearly rattled from watching the horrific hours of labour.

“I don’t think I want to see you like that ever again.” Soryu muttered, putting an arm around your shoulder. “I promised to protect you at any cost…” He kissed your temple. “But this seems even worse than anything I could protect you from.”

*Katsumi – Victorious Beauty


It was a rare sight to see the cool and collected Eisuke be so horrified. You had pleaded with him to stay with you as you went through labour, but he was absolutely no comfort as he sat beside your cot, staring at you in fear and sorrow as you screamed. Throughout the torturous hours, Eisuke watched you with regretful eyes, wondering if having this child was a good idea after all. You cried and clung to him, struggling in a battle he had no power in.


Your husband pulled a chair over to sit beside your cot and the metal dragged against the tile with an accidental scrape.

“Eisuke!” You scolded in the softest voice possible and gently cooed at your son. “Now he won’t stop crying!”

“Sorry.” He grumbled, a twinge of envy in his gut as he watched you fawn over his son. You tried to hold back a yawn as you twiddled your fingers against your son’s cheek, trying to distract him. “Are you tired, _______?” He sighed. “I’ll hold him.”

Carefully, you ease your son into his father’s arms. Adjusting Eisuke’s awkward, nervous arms into position, you lean back against the pillows and watch with tender fondness in your chest.

Eisuke stared down at his son’s face, and the newborn stared curiously up at his father.

“You sure caused your mom a lot of pain.” He poked Hiroshi’s nose lightly, and the tiny boy seemed to pout, wiggling his miniscule hands at him. Eisuke let the boy grab his finger and cling to him. A faint smile curved his lips. “So, are you going to apologize to mom?” He shook his hand a little and the infant gurgled.

“He’s amazing, ________.” Eisuke flashed a proud grin at you. “Thank you for him.”

You smile as your husband lean over and nuzzle his face against your gently, pressing a light kiss to your cheek.

“I will never let anything hurt the two of you.”

*Hiroshi – Prosperous


So, perhaps, watching you suffer at that woman’s hands was not the worst Ota had to go through. He sat at your side, trying to comfort you and distract you as you writhed on the cot. Between the worry and false smiles, he felt a hard twist of guilt. He was the one who had wanted this child, and watching you cry, the cost you had to pay for the choice seemed too achingly painful to be worth. Ota tried to stay positive, ignoring the way you pulled on his arm and hand, encouraging you every minute of the way.


You watched from the cot, cradling your daughter as he pulled the small square of canvas out of the duffle bag sitting in the corner of your room. Rubbing blue paint onto his hand, he pressed the first handprint onto the white. Quickly washing his hands in the sink, he brought the red paint over to you.

Smiling, you pass the soft bundle of your daughter into his arms. Ota snuggles her against his chest possessively. He kisses your cheek as you press your red handprint onto the canvas beside your husband’s. You clean off your hand with the wet paper towels Ota gave you, and gazed lovingly up at your husband.

“Now it’s your turn, mini-Koro.” He cooed down at his daughter, who blinked squinted eyes with a bout of confusion but easy-going amusement. “Open your hand, yeah, just like that! Good job, mini-Koro! You’re such a natural artist!” Ota puts a smear of purple paint onto his daughter’s hand and adds the tiny purple handprint onto the canvas. He wipes her clean and tilts her ever so slightly to see the finished product. “How does it look, Ayaka?”

The newborn gave a tiny gurgle and smiled.

“I think it looks great too, don’t you agree, mommy-Koro?”

He kisses your cheek again.

“Thank you so much for her. I love you, _________.”

*Ayaka – Colourful flower


He paced outside the room, unable to sit still, wringing his hands. Ever since the miscarriage two years ago, you had trouble conceiving another child. When you finally did, the pregnancy was difficult and torturous, ranging from terrible sickness to bleeding and chronic discomfort that strained you to the bone. It was a painful nine months for him to watch you suffer, and now… They had wheeled you away for surgery due to prolonged labour. Cold fear gripped him as he tried to distract himself, walking up and down the hospital corridors, glancing up at the lights over the door every few steps.


Baba was pressed against the glass, trying to get as close to the little blue bundle as possible. Amongst the other infants, the bright red face of the newborn stuck out. His son wiggled and waved the little wristband around in the air.

He was so perfect.

Unnamable emotions swelled up in Baba’s heart, knowing he would give everything he had to this tiny boy in the room without a second thought. This was his son.

“Mr Baba.” He turned at the voice and a white robed man was smiling warmly at him. “Your wife is awake. We can’t bring your son over to her yet for his health precautions, but I do encourage you to take a few photos to show her.” He pointed Baba in the right direction before congratulating him again and leaving.


Baba sat beside you on the cot, holding out his cellphone so you could browse through the pictures he had taken of your son. His other arm was wrapped around your shoulder, clutching you close to him in his relief that you were alright.

“I just went to see him.” He said proudly. “I’ll take you over when you rest up, alright, my lady?” He kissed your temple. “Thank you so much, ________.”

“He’s going to be great, being your son and all.” You whisper up at him with shining eyes.

“I just want him to be safe and strong.” Baba murmured tenderly against your ear. “And he will be. I will give anything I have to protect him.”

*Hisashi – Long lived


He was well prepared, perfectly steady as he allowed you to abuse his hand in your pain. Throughout the process, he murmured reassuring words for you and dabbed at your face with a damp towel. It was a heart-wrenching experience for him, watching you struggle through the pain for the child both of you had been so blessed to keep after the incident.


“Scared you’re going to drop Tamotsu?” You teased your husband lightly as he refused to hold your son for the Nth time.

“Of course not.” He raised his arm to his nose and sniffed his sleeve again. “I don’t know, I cleaned the shirt like four times and scrubbed and all that. I think I still smell like smoke.”

You give an amused sigh.

“All I can smell is laundry soap and raw skin, Mamo. It’s fine. He’ll be alright.”

He sat down on the edge of the cot and put an arm around you, looking down at the tiny newborn in your arms.

“It sounds really dumb, but thank you, sweetheart.” He pressed his cheek against your head. Pride and joy wove through his heart into a swirl of pure bliss in the presence of his family. “It was hard work on your side.”

“Yeah.” You respond absentmindedly, stroking Tamotsu’s face with a finger. “It was hard.”

Mamoru reached out to touch his son on the cheek, and the boy turned his head to him.

“Hey kiddo, it’s dad.”

*Tamotsu – defender, protector

Thanks for the read!

Prince In Plaid | Pt.1

Originally posted by superuunatural

Dean x Reader

A/N: I wrote this and intended it to just be one part but I’m writing a smutty part 2 because I realized I just ended it without actually ending it lol. Enjoy.

Summary: Crowley wants to kill you and Sam and Dean want to save you.

Warning: Nothing Really – Smut will be in the next part

You rub your burning red eyes. You’ve been staring at your computer screen for hours and nothing seems to be adding up. The 3 kids in town that have gone missing have nothing in common, there haven’t been any signs of demonic possessions and you’re starting to think this case has nothing to do with anything supernatural.

Closing you laptop, you walk over to the mini fridge in the old motel room and pull out a beer, tossing the small metal cap into the trash can across the room. Just as you’re about to take your first drag you hear a knock at the door. You’ve been hunting ghost, demons and everything in between long enough to know you can never be too safe.

“Who is it?” you ask, trying to sound bigger than you actually are.

You hear what sounds like 2 guys whispering behind the door and shuffling around. You study the thin line of white light at the bottom of the door waiting for one of them to try and bust in.

“We’re hunter too” a husky voice spoke from the other side of the worn wood door.

“Hunters?” you asked.

You know there are others out there. You’ve met a few of them but you’ve never had 1 of them, let alone 2 of them, show up at your hotel room.

“Yes hunters” the husky voice said again sounding annoyed “now will you let us in?” he asked.

The shotgun you kept next to your bed was now in your hands as you made your way to the door. The deadbolt was a little stuck so it took you a minute to get it unlocked. The chain was last; you stared at it wondering if it was a smart idea to let these guys in. They could be demons or something else that you’re not prepared for. You look down at your shotgun, fully loaded, and then back at the door as you pulled the chain slowly off the hook and sluggishly opened the door.

“What do you want?” you demanded.

“I’m Dean” the husky voiced man spoke as he peaked through the small crack in the door that only revealed to him half your face “and this” he pointed to the taller dark haired man behind him “is Sam, my brother” he smiled and raised one eyebrow “can we come in?”

“Not until you tell me what you want” you opened the door a little more now your whole face showered in the light from outside. Your eyes like stone staring at the two men waiting for their answer.

“Fine” Dean blurted out “we’re here to save your ass”

“Dean!” Sam yelled into his ear and shoved his shoulder “Sorry about my brother but we are running out of time we need to get you out of here” Sam urged “You’re in serious danger”

These guys must be kidding. There’s nothing here. You’ve been on this case for over 2 weeks and the only thing you’ve got is 3 missing kids and some old police records.

“What danger?” you pressed “there’s nothing here” swinging the door open you motion for them to enter the room with the barrel of your gun “look around” you point to the news clipping covered walls “it’s just a bunch of missing kids and parents that I have no answers for.”

You’re so frustrated with yourself and the situation that you throw your gun onto the bed and start tearing down the newspaper clippings and throwing them into the trash can.

“This isn’t why we’re here” Dean grabbed your arm and turned you to face the boys “this, what you’re looking into isn’t supernatural it’s just some sick guy kidnapping kids and yeah it sucks but that’s for the police to handle” you pulled your arm from his grip “we are hunters”

You look down at the floor until Dean grabs your arm again to get you to focus on him “You are on Crowley’s most wanted listed sweetheart” he levels with you “and you’ve been in the same spot for too long, it’s time to move on”

Sam gives you an apologetic look “We’re sorry but you have to come with us”


The drive to the safe house was quite. Sam and Dean would occasionally share looks with each other but never words. They seemed like the type of brothers who didn’t need to say much, they kind of just knew what the other was thinking.

“We’re here” Dean got out the shiny black car, slamming the door behind him.

You look around, confused “Um where is here exactly?” you asked.

Sam noticed Dean wasn’t paying much attention to you or your question “This is our home” Sam smiled “Don’t worry” he grabbed your larger duffle bag and let you carry your smaller one “it’s safe I promise” he reassured you as he lead you into the large building, that looked more like an old factory than a home.


It’s been 2 days and there still hasn’t been any word on Crowley. Sam and Dean won’t tell you why Crowley is after you and you’re starting to feel restless stuck in this old bunker. You decide you’ve had enough. If they won’t tell you what’s going on than you’re just going to leave.

“What are they going to do to stop me?” you whisper to yourself as you start packing your bags and trying to find your shoes.

“What’s going on?” Dean’s voice startles you and makes your jump.

“Oh my god Dean” you put your hand over your chest feeling your heart pounding a mile a minute “you scared to shit out of me” you try and catch your breathe.

“What are you doing Y/N?” Dean asks, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the door frame of the room you’ve been staying in.

“I’m leaving Dean” you shoved the last of your clothes into the old olive green canvas duffle bag and threw it over your shoulder.

Dean pushed himself off the door frame and stood in the doorway blocking you from leaving, his arms now down at his side and a hard look on his face.

“You’re not going anywhere” his insisted.

You try to push past him but he held his ground “Come on Dean” you dropped your bag at your feet and pushed on his chest, you would have just went around him but his large frame blocked too much of the doorway and you couldn’t find a gap to slip out of “WHY?” you finally shouted, frustrated at him.

Dean gripped your arms, pushed you back a few steps and held you still “Because Y/N your hard headed and you can’t handle this on your own” he yelled back.

Your face started to turn a light shade of red, anger boiling up to the surface “WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN’T HANDLE THIS ON MY OWN?!” You pushed his hands off your arms “You don’t even know me Dean” you tried to bring your voice down so that Sam wouldn’t hear you “I’m not some sad damsel in distress that needs some prince in plaid to come save her”  you remind him “I’ve been hunting all my life what makes this any different?”

“It’s the king of hell Y/N!” Dean’s voice was laced with anger “You’ve never went up against a demon this powerful and if you leave here you’re going to get yourself killed”

Dean was now standing just inches away from you, his large frame towers over your short body. All the frustration and tension between the two of you made the air seem thick.

So you walk closer to him, stand on your tippy toes and get into his face “And how do you plan to stop me?” you ask him,

Laura was packing her bags, glad to have her first semester of college under her belt. Her bag was heavy, filled with old things and new purchases. She hefted it up onto her bed, looking around to make sure she got everything.

With a light smile, Laura picked up her favorite pale blue scarf and looked at Carmilla. The vampire was sprawled out on her bed, reading as usual, “How did your finals go?”

“Stellar,” Carmilla deadpanned and turned the page in her book.

“I’m sure you could have written the tests,” Laura sat down on her bed, looking at her roommate.

Carmilla hummed in a noise that was meant to be an agreement.

Laura kicked her feet over the ground and looked at her dark brown boots. Her eyes traveled to Carmilla’s side of the room. There was a leather jacket hanging on the bedpost which was the only new edition to Carmilla’s wardrobe for winter. Laura looked at her bag and dug around in it before she took out a red scarf.

The blonde wrapped the ends of the scarf around her fists, “Carmilla?”

The tone of Laura’s voice was different and serious. Carmilla looked up from her book, her eyes completely focused on Laura.

“I want to know- I mean…” Laura stuttered. She licked her lips and looked away from Carmilla, “Do you want to come home with me for Christmas break?”

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Kipper Clothiers has reached over $20,000 of our $30,000 goal on our Kickstarter Campaign! Thanks to everyone who has donated so far! Let’s keep it going! 

We still have a lot of great merchandise, be sure to CLICK HERE to claim one of these awesome rewards

bymikedallas  asked:

What are some of your wardrobe essentials?

tobacco khaki
light khaki
dark jean
penny loafer
driving loafer
boat shoe
white shirt
cashmere sweater
cable-knit sweater
wool sweater
linen suit
Navy blazer
smoking slipper
blue oxford
thick white oxford
blue and white gingham button down
quilted jacket
cable knit winter hat
fisherman sweater
denim button down
navy and white stripes
corduroy blazer
washed navy polo
canvas duffle bag
tortoise shell sunglasses
classic boxers, stripes, ginghams, etc.
a classic pair of sneakers
simple scarves
leather gloves
repp ties
long sleeve polos
grey crewnecks
wool suit
tweed jacket
navy suit