thank crap this is all over

anonymous asked:

u know doujinshi is shit talkin u right?

lol honestly i don’t care at all….. she is actually one of the most delusional people I have ever met in my life. she is unbelievably conceited, fake af, talks crap about all her friends behind their backs, an actual abuser in past relationships, and obviously can’t let go of this beef we used to have YEARS ago??? she texted me recently all polite and cordial trying to tell me to let things go and not let our past differences get in the way of friendships i might have with people who know her and i said yeah ofc i am over it now thanks for the text wishing you all the best. and when i said that i actually meant it??? and now she starts bashing me on her blog about stuff that is like YEARS old???? like petty and fake can you get??? i literally haven’t thought or posted about her in years yet she actively goes out of her way to cause more conflict and drama.

EDIT:

all this drama is so pointless bc 

  1. it’s a 100% her word vs my word situation so whoever you like/trust more is going to be “the truth” in your mind
  2. it was YEARS AGO and it’s not affecting ANYTHING right now so i’m not sure why she even brought it up again??????????????????

honestly more than anything i want to be done with this (and i really thought we were) bc it’s so unbelievably childish

Most Admirable Traits About The Signs

Aries- I really like their “don’t give a crap attitude” and also how protective they are over their friends and family.

Taurus- Their so cute and bubbly, and I like how they make the stupidest things hilarious.

Gemini- Okay so I admire all the confidence they have and they also are so cuddly and adorable. 

Cancer- Their super relatable and I like how they always appreciate me.

Leo- So I usually base these posts on people I know and the only leo I can think of off the top of my head is Barak Obama… so yeah thanks for being our president homie.

Virgo- Their super chill and is nice to everyone.

Libra- welp this be me.

Scorpio- Super adventurous and and always standing for what they believe in.

Sagittarius- Is it bad I like how flustered they get? Also a very honest person.

Capricorn- Super clingy in a cute way and is very loyal.

Aquarius- Their head smarts and ability to answer things and give advice is scary. 

Pisces- Super creative and is always way more reasonable. 

spaceless-sea  asked:

How are you? I hope well! Can you do a rfa+v and Saeran having to do seven minutes in heaven? Like honestly not even as drunk just sober. (Requests aren't open;-; but maybe later? Also I rlly love your blog like I'm most done with the masterlist^°^)

Author’s note: I hope you guys like this!!!! i’m still rusty ok it’s been awhile edit: I FORGOT V AGAIN someone please send in a request that says “add v” so I remember to edit him in here

Yoosung

  • “You wanna play cards? I brought them with me so we wouldn’t be bored!!”
  • Does he… Does he really not know what we’re supposed to be doing?
  • You looked down at Yoosung, who was already on sitting on the floor shuffling the deck
  • “Lemme guess… you’ve never played Seven minutes in Heaven.”
  • Yoosung paused for a second before shaking his head
  • You sat down next to him and smiled
  • He’s so cute…
  • “So what game do you wanna play, MC?”
  • But then again, this IS Seven minutes in heaven
  • “Strip Poker.”
  • Yoosung’s face turned bright red
  • “H-Huh? Strip?”
  • You smirked
  • “I’ll start.”
  • In one quick moment, your shirt was thrown across the room
  • “Okay, now you’re turn.”
  • Yoosung who had now achieved a new shade of red blatantly stared at your chest
  • “I-I… uhh, w-well-“
  • “SAY SOMETHING, YOU IDIOT!!!”
  • What the hell?
  • Yoosung looked behind you
  • “I think it came from the other side of the door.”
  • You stood up and opened the closet door, and in tumbled Zen and Jumin.
  • “So,” you crossed your arm and looked down at the two very guilty looking boys, “You wanna explain yourselves?”
  • The two of them began stuttering out excuses
  • “W-Well Yoosung’s never played before-“
  • “-I heard you were taking off your shirt-“
  • “-And I thought he might need guidance-“
  • “-So I wanted to hear the rest.”
  • You glared at them
  • “First, Jumin don’t be a perv, and second-“
  • “We were in the middle of something.”
  • You looked back at Yoosung, who had taken off his shirt
  • “And now that MC and I are even, I’d like to get back to the game.”
  • Despite the confidence behind Yoosung’s words, his face was as red as ever
  • You turned back around and smirked
  • “You heard the man!”
  • Jumin and Zen slowly got up, both mumbling curses under their breath.
  • You closed the door behind them
  • “Now, where were we?”
  • In the end the two of you ended up stripping to your underwear and then just playing go fish for the rest of the time

Zen

  • “W-What? I can’t be in a closet alone with MC!! How will I control myself?”
  • You walked over to the closet and gave Zen a smirk
  • “Who says you need to?”
  • 0.1 seconds later Zen was standing in the closet how the hell did he even get there so fast???
  • You closed the door and turned around
  • “So,” you clapped your hands together, “Show me what you got.”
  • Zen smirked
  • “You sure you can handle it?”
  • You raised an eyebrow, “I think you already know the answer to that.”
  • Zen smiled
  • “This is gonna be-“
  • Was all Zen could get out before hitting his head on the light
  • “Ohhh s-shittt…”
  • You rushed over to Zen, who was now bent over in pain
  • “Are you okay? Do you need ice? How bad does it hurt?”
  • Zen looked up at you with hazy eyes
  • “Slooowww down, youuu’reee talking wayyyy toooo fast!!!”
  • I’m not sure what’s more concerning… Zen’s slurred speech or the giant lump forming on his forehead.
  • “We need to get you out of here right-“
  • “NO! I want to give you… seven minutes…in…….”
  • THUD
  • “UHHHHHHH, GUYSOPENTHEDOORZENJUSTPASSEDOUT.”
  • “He did WHAT?”
  • Jaehee swung to door open, her eyes immediately traveling down to unconscious Zen
  • “What happened to his face? And why is the closet light busted??”
  • The rest of the RFA stood behind her, patiently awaiting your answer
  • “Well,” you looked down at Zen and smirked, “I guess he unleashed the beast a little too early.”

Jaehee

  • As soon as Jaehee closed the door she sunk down to the floor and sighed
  • “Finally… peace and quiet.”
  • You nodded, sitting down next to her
  • “Who the hell let Seven DJ anyways?”
  • Jaehee laughed, “I don’t know, but it was a horrible decision.”
  • It would’ve been fine if he just turned the damn the volume down…
  • You looked over at Jaehee, who was responding to an email on her phone
  • “Work’s got you pretty busy, huh?”
  • She gave you a sarcastic glare
  • “Doesn’t it always?”
  • The two of you began ranting about Jumin and the rest of the RFA
  • “I mean, does he think I’m just made out of cat toys? He can’t keep-“
  • “Wait… Jaehee?”
  • “Yeah?”
  • “I think our seven minutes are up… Did they forget about us?”
  • Jaehee checked her phone
  • “It’s been 12 minutes,” she looked back over at you and smiled, “so I think it’s safe to say they have.”
  • The two of you exchanged glances
  • It’s so nice in here…
  • “You wanna stay?”
  • Jaehee’s eyes lit up
  • “I thought you’d never ask!”
  • She set her phone down and yawned
  • “I think… I’ll take a nap.”
  • You reached up and turned the lights off
  • “Sounds good to me.”
  • You stared at the ceiling, waiting for the drowsiness to hit you
  • That was when you felt something warm slump on your shoulder
  • You looked over at Jaehee and she gave you a sleepy smile
  • “Do you mind if I use you as a pillow?”
  • Be still my heart.
  • “Y-Yeah!”
  • Jaehee closed her eyes, and within the next five minutes, she was asleep
  • The next morning Seven found both of you sleeping in his closet
  • And yes he was naked 
  • And yes he screamed
  • And yes you and Jaehee both screamed back
  • But it was still the best seven minutes in heaven you’ve ever played even if it wasn’t just seven minutes

Jumin

  • As SOON as the door closed he had you pinned up against the wall
  • “W-Woah, slow down there bud.”
  • Jumin closed his eyes and sighed, letting go of the grip he had on your hips
  • “Sorry,” he backed up and ran his hands through his hair
  • You practically feel him holding himself back
  • “Why are you so worked up??”
  • Jumin leaned back on the wall opposite of you
  • “It’s just, while we were out there, Zen kept… flirting with you.”
  • His nose crinkled when he said the word flirting, as if it were a disgusting word
  • “I know secretly dating is hard, but I really think its best.”
  • You looked up at him, “Especially with everything happening with your company…”
  • Jumin nodded, taking a step toward you
  • “I suppose I can’t blame Zen. You do look ravishing tonight,” Jumin smirked
  • You smiled back at him, giving him a small twirl
  • “Thank you, my boyfriend helped me pick this out.”
  • “I must say, your boyfriend has great taste. I bet he’s handsome, too.”
  • “Oh yes, extremely.”
  • “FIVE MINUTES LEFT YOU TWO LOVEBIRDS!!”
  • Seven’s yelling interrupted your conversation
  • “Hmm,” Jumin looked at you, “Do you think five minutes in enough?”
  • You pushed yourself off of the wall and grabbed Jumin by the tie
  • “Won’t know unless we try.”
  • And as it turns out, five minutes was more than enough time to… scroll through Jumin’s pictures of Elly

Saeran

  • “So.”
  • “Yup.”
  • “This is fun.”
  • “Really fun.”
  • For the first two minutes, those were the only words exchanged between you and Saeran
  • I have to do something to break this silence.
  • You cleared your throat
  • “Uhh… so how are you?”
  • SERIOUSLY??? Is that the best I could come up with?
  • “I’m fine.”
  • “…Cool.”
  • You looked down at your feet
  • I’m good too, thanks for asking.
  • this poor child doesn’t know how to socialize have mercy on him
  • When you looked back up at him, his eyes quickly darted away
  • Was he staring at me?
  • A light blush crossed his face
  • That’s… kinda cute.
  • You bit your lip
  • Well, this is seven minutes in heaven
  • Before your brain could tell you otherwise, you leaned forward and lightly pressed your lips against his
  • After getting over the initial shock that someone was actually kissing him Saeran grabbed your chin and deepened the kiss
  • When you pulled away, both of you were out of breath
  • You leaned back against the wall
  • “…So.”
  • “Yup.”
  • “That was fun.”
  • Really fun.”
  • Seven swung the door open
  • “TIME’S UP!!!”
  • You looked at Saeran and smirked
  • “Let’s do this again sometime.”
  • Saeran followed you out the door and grabbed your wrist
  • He pulled you back and lowered his voice so the other’s couldn’t here
  • “Name the place and I’ll be there.”
  • Oh, this was going to be f u n.

Seven

  • “♪♫YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, MC AND SEVEN IN HEAVEN FOR SEVEN♪♫”
  • You looked back the rest of the group
  • “Please help me.”
  • Jaehee gave you a pitying look and Zen saluted you “in honor of his fallen comrade”
  • Before you could anyone else’s reaction, Seven grabbed your hand and pulled you into the closet
  • “Your closet is a lot smaller than I thought it would be.”
  • Seven let go of your hand and laughed
  • “You do know I wear almost the same thing every day, right?”
  • You reached out to feel one of his shirts
  • “This one is my favorite.”
  • You pointed to the shirt Yoosung had gotten Seven for his birthday
  • It had a picture of the RFA on the front and the word “family” in Arabic on the back
  • “Mine too.”
  • Seven stepped closer to you
  • “You wanna see why I was so excited to get you in here?”
  • You felt your face heat up
  • “W-Well, I mean-“
  • “SAERAN TURN OFF THE LIGHTS!”
  • “What?”
  • As soon as the lights went off, Seven turned you around so you were facing the door
  • He wrapped his arms around you, giving you a tight hug from behind
  • “Look up.”
  • You tilted your head to look up at the ceiling
  • “Oh my…”
  • Glow-in-the-dark stars were scattered all over the top of the closest, turning the dull ceiling into a tiny galaxy
  • “It’s beautiful.”
  • Seven buried his face in the crook of your neck
  • “So are you.”
  • And that’s when it hit you
  • You were literally in heaven in with Seven
  • “Thank you.”
4

Seunghyun: Hongki hyung may look like a kid in daily life, but he’s actually really mature. The longer you know him, the more you realize that he’s actually a really different hyung than what he looks like. (x)

IT’S OVER 9000!!!!!!
Yes, guys, you are awesome! We passed 9000 followers!!! :D
Thank you sooooo, so much
So……….
Let’s talk about my beloved friend, Incineroar :)
Yes, I know that it’s typing is Fire/Dark
Then… why do I keep using it in every neutral (?) desing instead of, I don’t know, Blaziken?
Well, the answer is pretty simple, it’s just because it is a Fire/Fighting pokemon… Look at it!
To me looks like: “Crap, internet doesn’t like Fire/Fighting typing… Look at all this memes! We are already finishing the game! We can not change Incineroar, there’s no time!” “Oh, oh, I have an idea! Let’s just change it’s second type, like Fire/Dark or something, nobody will notice” “Really? What about Z-Move?” “Hmmm……. DARK lariat!”

But hey, I’m just a mad man with a notebook and some free time…

Bear’s Story (part 2)

Outside a desecrated temple of Pelor our new Half-Orc Barbarian (who believes she is a bear) steps forward to challenge them.
Bear: (angrily) “My sorcerer doesn’t like you here. You guys leave now, or Bear mauls you!” And then I roar at them shaking my battle axe over my head.
DM: Roll intimidation.
Bear: Uh, crap, I have a -2 on charisma checks. (Rolls a 2) Alright, then after Bear says that, she looks back to the sorcerer and asks (in a fairly high pitched and happy tone), “Was that good? Bear practic be scary all night.”
Sorcerer: He smiles weakly in thanks of her attempt.
Bear: She does a happy ‘squeeee’ and steps back and forth on her toes shaking arms next to her body.
The sorcerer’s player facepalms to hide a smile.

can count as vent i guess? i celebrated my 14th birthday doing homework and studying for an exam when i could have invited some friends over  then i remembered i have no friends lmao.  so at 12 am i was finally done with school crap and i was able to finish this thing.   currently feeling better bc my mutuals are such nice and perfect people i love them all and i want to thank them all.

boy i sure do love to make this child suffer.

anonymous asked:

Hey, Miss Kat! I hate to bother you, but I was wondering if you could do some headcannons for Kakashi if you don't mind. I know all these headcannon asks must be annoying, but I'm crap at them. You don't have to if you don't want to, but I'd really appreciate it. Thanks!

- Continues the proud Team 7 legacy of being a complete Nerd

- Only he’s more subtle about it.

- Has to preserve his Reputation after all

- (Yeah, no, everyone knows this and is very amused by it.)

- Once waited in line for 12 hours to buy the newest Icha Icha book and did not regret it.

- Keeps a scorecard of how many people he’s trolled about his mask that week.

- If the number goes over 30 he takes Tenzo out to lunch and sticks him with the bill.

- It’s character-building, okay

- Gai is the only person in the world who’s known him for longer than .76 seconds and still thinks he’s cool. 

- This is why Gai is his favorite. 

- Does not drink.

- (Often.)

- This is because he’s actually a lightweight. 

- And he has a tendency to be Extra Ridiculous when he’s smashed.

- Seriously, Genma has enough blackmail after that time with the stripping and Aoba and the table in that one bar in Suna. Kakahsi isn’t about to give him more

- Totally lowkey territorial. 

- Most of the time this is fine, but Obito can hold his liquor and likes to drink and has somehow gotten drunk-married five times already and none of those times were to Kakashi.

- It wasn’t even to nice Konoha nin like Raidou or - or Gai or something. Obito had to go and marry into a former terrorist organization and to two members of the Seven Swordsmen. 

- Rin laughs at him. So much. So often. Kakashi is Offended, okay, it’s not his fault he likes his team members where he can see them.

- It totally has nothing to do with that one crush thAT YOU PROMISED NEVER TO MENTION RIN. 

- Absolutely definitely totally not. 

- May have had A Fling with Tenzo when they were both in ANBU but it was Very Awkward and they’re cool as friends. 

- (If Tenzo had known that would have doomed him to get stuck with the bill for the rest of forever, he might have pretended to be a little more upset.)

- Is absolutely terrifying and knows it.

- Never manages to be terrifying enough to catch Obito’s attention Rin what is he doing wrong help.

- On an unrelated note, Rin has been exiled from his circle of friends because she’s a filthy traitor

- Is a good cook and a decent housekeeper, but would rather live off of packaged meals and in the midst of trash piles if Obito wouldn’t yell at him for it. 

- (Why does that get his attention gods this is unfair okay.)

- Has not bought new clothes for himself that are not in some way part of the standard uniform in like. 9 years? Someone help him. 

- Gets shiny new collars and fancy capes for every one of his dogs each time he gets a paycheck, though. 

- Does not trust Cat People. 

- (Yes, Obito counts.)

- Dogs are clearly The Best and anyone who thinks otherwise is wrong.

- Baby Talk to his dogs is totally a thing. 

- No shame about that, either. 

- Would probably jump off a cliff if someone tossed a copy of Icha Icha over the edge. 

- And has. 

- Once, Rin, god, calm down. 

- (Would totally do it again.)

anonymous asked:

Could you possibly come up with some prompts where the protagonist is going undercover at a ball the villain's hosting? Thank you so much! I found this blog a week ago and it's quickly become one of my favorites!

1) “Perhaps I can have this dance?”
The protagonist’s heart dropped into their stomach, despite the fact this was very much useful to the mission. They managed a mute nod and the villain took their hand, drawing them close, capturing their hands in a grip secure enough that it made it difficult to go for a weapon. The music dipped intimate and they swayed. 
“You know,” the villain murmured against their ear. “I’ve been watching you all night.”
Oh shit, had they been caught?


2) “They said they didn’t want to dance.” 
The pushy ball-goer’s hand jolted back from the protagonist as if scalded - and, honestly, the villain was the last person they had expected to come to anyone’s defense. 
The villain smiled, eyes dark. “Now go and put your hand in the fireplace for five seconds, so maybe next time you learn the word no.”
Fuck. “That’s - I mean - that’s not necessary.” 
The villain turned to look at them. 


3) “Did no one warn you over the strength of the drinks?” 
Oh, god. Their embarrassment was complete. They threw up in the sink again, wracked with shudders, cheeks burning and stomach all wrung up. “Please don’t kill me.” Their head spun. 
“For throwing up in my sink? I’m just glad you spared my orchids and didn’t throw up in them. Someone did. It was disgusting.” A hand reached out, brushing their hair back from their forehead, and shoving a glass of water in their hand. “Here.”
“Thanks.” They took a sip.
“What’s your name?”
“[X].” Crap. That was their actual name, not their cover. They stared at the water. Had it been, had it been…?
“I’m not quite so glad that you’re spying on me, [X],” the villain continued conversationally. “But at least you’re being a polite guest about it. Who is it that you’re working for, by the way?”  

Most Admirable Traits About The Signs

Aries- I really like their “don’t give a crap attitude” and also how protective they are over their friends and family.

Taurus- Their so cute and bubbly, and I like how they make the stupidest things hilarious.

Gemini- Okay so I admire all the confidence they have and they also are so cuddly and adorable.

Keep reading

Most Admirable Traits About The Signs

Aries- I really like their “don’t give a crap attitude” and also how protective they are over their friends and family.

Taurus- Their so cute and bubbly, and I like how they make the stupidest things hilarious.

Gemini- Okay so I admire all the confidence they have and they also are so cuddly and adorable.

Cancer- Their super relatable and I like how they always appreciate me.

Leo- So I usually base these posts on people I know and the only leo I can think of off the top of my head is Barak Obama… so yeah thanks for being our president homie.

Virgo- Their super chill and is nice to everyone.

Libra- welp this be me.

Scorpio- Super adventurous and and always standing for what they believe in.

Sagittarius- Is it bad I like how flustered they get? Also a very honest person.

Capricorn- Super clingy in a cute way and is very loyal.

Aquarius- Their head smarts and ability to answer things and give advice is scary.

Pisces- Super creative and is always way more reasonable.

hello friends!!

This list is more so about things that I didn’t realize I needed for college, and what I realized I didn’t need once I was already at college, rather than a wholistic list of what you’re going to need. If you google your generic “college essentials” list, they more or less are truly what you’re going to need. I’m simply trying to share my experience after my first year of college. here we go kids

Things you might not have thought of:

wedge pillow/husband pillow: you know when you wanna do work in bed and sit up against the wall, and you try and use your pillows for back support but you can never get them in a comfortable position???? yeah. fear not!! there are wedge pillows and/or husband pillows for this!!! personally, I didn’t realize how much work I would do in bed prior to college. If you’re someone who does this, I HIGHLY recommend getting one of these pillows. it’ll just make your life a lot easier.

clipboard: you know when you wanna do work in bed, but when you’re trying to take notes and be studious your notebook is too floppy and it’s an immense struggle to take notes???? yeah. GET YOU A CLIPBOARD. my god. you could also get a lap desk thing, but tbh a clipboard should suffice.

clip-on lamp: if you’re like me, you might hate artificial lighting and hate having all of the lights on. you might prefer a nice lil lamp. every college list tells you to get a desk lamp. BUT YOU SHOULD GET A CLIP ON LAMP. as i’ve said twice now, i love doing work in bed. but sometimes it just gets dark!! and while your lamp lights up the room well enough, you might strain to see what you’re reading and/or writing. so, get a clip on lamp!! you can clip it literally anywhere it can clamp on to. so much freedom. so beautiful. 10/10 would recommend.

a robe: i went into college thinking i could just wrap myself in a towel and flee to my dorm from the bathroom. However, you’re gonna dry your hair, and then your body. and then you’ll go on your journey to your dorm. but, you’re hair is still gonna be wet, and then get you wet, and get the floor wet, and it’s just not a good time. (also sorry for the comma splices rn lmao) please make your life easier and get yourself a robe. then you can wrap the towel around your hair and keep it dry, while not having to run to your dorm hoping that your towel doesn’t fall! it’s a good time.

stand up hamper: i got a laundry bag and thought that would be a fun way to store my gross clothing. false information my friends. you know when you’re trying to put something in a bag, but the bag just keeps closing on it’s own bc of gravity, and then you’re trying to open the bag with the object you’re trying to put IN the bag–you know what i’m talking about. that’s what will happen with a laundry bag for a hamper. just get a stand up one friends.

NAPKINS: it’s the things that you always have around that you don’t realize you need. just have napkins. too many reasons to explain why they’re necessary.

a step stool!!!: this is college. your bed is going to be high up. that’s just how it is. you CAN rely on the lil ladder to get onto your bed, but that’s always a bit of an awkward climb. i highly recommend a step stool. it helped my tiny lil self out every single day.

mattress pad: this one isn’t necessary. I didn’t have one when I first got to college. but then my mom forced one upon me, and it honestly changed my whole life. do it. you don’t need a full on foam top mattress (unless you want one that’s cool too), but anything helps. college beds feel like dried up sponges.
_______________________________________________________________________

Things you probably don’t need

clothes: no matter what, you are not going to have the amount of clothes that you need your first year of college. you will either over pack or under pack. there is absolutely no in between. try not to bring too many clothes. you will truly thank yourself.

extra storage bins: if you think you might need extra storage bins to put all of your stuff in, then you’re bringing too much stuff to your dorm. trust me. the storage that your school provides will be enough. don’t bring too much to school. you’ll have many breakdowns where you get so overwhelmed by all of the unnecessary crap that you own. i know i did

too many pillows: y’all, this is college. no one has time for five decorative pillows. the bed is just big enough to fit one human being. don’t bring all of those pillows. you will have no where to put them. your dorm will be cute without the pillows.

shower shoes??????: idk. this, in my opinion, is optional. i feel like everyone stresses how disgusting college showers are and how if you don’t have shower shoes you’re bound to get foot fungus. i personally think this is exaggerated and emphasized by germaphobes. shower shoes are a nice precaution, but your showers aren’t going to be completely horrible. However, I go to a tiny liberal arts school, and shared a bathroom with 4 other girls. If you’re going to a larger school with community bathrooms, then please disregard this suggestion. protect ur toes.

i hope this helps some people out!! freshman year of college is going to be a great learning experience!!!!!

2

Oliver uses the salmon ladder for more than just his health.  »—>

Letters For You

Pairing: Popular!Y/N/!Nerd!Michael

Rating: All

Request: No

Words: 3.000+

Summary: Michael’s seat in French class is situated right by the door giving him the chance to see the popular girl Y/N sitting in the other classroom across from the hall. He is shy and doesn’t know how to express his words so he does by secretly putting love notes into her locker.

Keep reading

siderealsandman  asked:

DjWiFi and the prompt is "First Home"

OOOH

THANK


“It’s smaller than I remember…did it shrink since the last time we’ve been here?”

Nino glanced over at his tired wife, who was slumped against him, her thick hair tied back in a high ponytail as she fanned herself with a makeshift fan.

“It only looks smaller because all our crap is in here now.” He pointed out. He watched as Alya’s brow furrowed.

“Oh…I guess so.” She glanced around, frowning. “Why the hell do we have so much junk?” She asked for what seemed like the fiftieth time since they’d started packing two months ago. Nino laughed, leaning over to kiss the furrow from her brow.

“Just wait–tomorrow we get to unpack all this junk.”

Alya groaned and slumped lower, looking completely done.

“Think we could bribe Adrien and Marinette to help us again tomorrow?”

“I don’t know; they seemed pretty exhausted after today. This might just be up to us, babe.”

“Ugh. Moving sucks.”

“Yeah, kinda does,” Nino admitted. He smiled at the bare walls around them, surrounded by boxes and boxes and boxes. “But you know what? It’s nice to have a place that’s just ours now.”

Alya sighed again, but Nino peeked over in time to see the slow smile creeping across her face.

“Our first home,” she agreed, fingers grasping Nino’s and giving them a squeeze. Nino’s smile warmed, and he squeezed her hand in return.

“Yeah…and hopefully we won’t have to do this moving crap again for another few years.”

“Yeah…”

A comfortable silence fell…until Alya sat up, sending a mischievous glance her husband’s way.

“Wanna christen our bedroom?”

“Race you,” Nino announced, scrambling to his feet to sprint to the bedroom, Alya’s laughter chasing him the whole way.

MariChat May Day 13: SIN

I took some liberty with this prompt, as well. I’m trying to keep this to a single, continuous story arc, and I wasn’t ready for them to get naughty just yet. So, you’ll just have to make do with LUST rather than SMUT this time.

This is for @siderealsandman. You set the sin bar high, my friend. If anyone wants to read incredibly well written sin, go check out Sandman’s AO3.

****************

Marinette checked her reflection in her mirror for the umpteenth time, because she was too antsy to sit still. Which was silly. She didn’t even know that he would be coming over. She swung away from the mirror with a groan, and began pacing. They hadn’t made any plans, but he had made a habit of dropping by on Friday evenings. He didn’t always come, but he did whenever he could.

And since she’d finished her Chat Noir outfit earlier in the week, she’d decided to go ahead and put it on, to surprise him with the complete look. After his reaction to the choker, she was quite looking forward to seeing his reaction to all of it. But what if he didn’t show tonight? What if he showed, but he thought it was ridiculous? What if he thought it was slutty?

She stopped. Why was she freaking out over what Chat Noir thought of this outfit? Sure, a bit of anticipation and even nerves made sense. She did want him to like them, after all. But this level of anxiety was over the top, even for her. It was just Chat Noir, and regardless of what Alya thought, they weren’t dating. It wasn’t like that for them, it wasn’t anything like she was waiting for Adrien to show up.

“Get a hold of yourself, girl,” she muttered. She resolutely pulled a new library book from her desk, and sat on her chaise to read. Either he would stop by, or he wouldn’t. She opened the book to the first page, and set about getting herself engrossed in the story.

It was late when Adrien was finally released from that stupid black tie affair with his dad. It had been boring and superficial and excruciatingly long, just as those events always were, but this one was worse because it fell on a Friday night. It had somehow become routine to go visit Marinette on Fridays, and now, he couldn’t stand to miss one. So, even though it was probably already too late, he called for his transformation as soon as he was sure that Nathalie wouldn’t be bothering him any more for the night.

The journey across the rooftops was freeing, as it always was, and he’d managed to lose some of the tension from that interminable dinner by the time he reached her balcony. Her lights were still on, which was always a good sign. He peered in through her skylight, and saw that she was curled up under a blanket on the chaise, with a book. He tapped on the glass to get her attention, and waved. Her face lit up when she saw him, and when she waved him in, he wasted no time in joining her.

“I’d given up on you coming over today, Chaton,” she said as he came through the opening in her ceiling.

“Eh, I got tied up as my civilian self.” He pulled the trap door closed behind himself, and began to climb down from her bed. “I almost didn’t come over, as late as it is. And had your light been off, I’d have turned back.”

“Well then, I’m glad I left my light on.” She pushed the blanket back to stand, then turned to set her book down, and Chat realized that she was wearing something other than her customary pink.

She was wearing black.

No, she was wearing black and green.

His colors. She was dressed entirely in his colors, and he quite suddenly forgot how to breathe. It must be the outfit that she’d designed from her sketches of him. She’d elected to stay surprisingly close to the design of his suit, and the sight of Marinette’s trim form clad in something very much like his suit was wreaking havoc with his equilibrium.

She’d made herself a pair of black skinny jeans, but rather than using black thread and a traditional cut for pants, she had cut these to echo the lines of his suit and stitched them with heavy green thread. The result was striking, to say the least. When she’d bent to put down her book, he’d gotten a very good look at the horizontal line across her derriere, as well as the twin lines that traveled down the backs of her legs, making them appear even longer than they were. The waist band sat at her hips, like the belt that circled his own body, and was likewise stitched in the heavy green thread.

By this time she’d turned to face him, and he saw that while her top also echoed the lines of his suit, she’d taken greater creative license with it. It was not made of denim, like the pants, but of matte satin, and was trimmed all the way around in piping of the same green as the thread. In some ways, it resembled a cheongsam, though she’d taken a great deal of liberty with that, as well. She’d clearly modeled the shape of the cap sleeves on the lines on his shoulders, so that they came to gently rounded points. In place of the high neckline, she wore her bell collar necklace above a low “V” neckline that would have shown cleavage on a bustier woman. The green line continued straight down the middle of the shirt to the hem, and was further embellished by two matching green frog closures.

She’d found a way to combine the style elements of his suit with elements from her own heritage, and the over-all effect was stunning, and…provocative. He moistened suddenly dry lips with his tongue, and allowed his gaze to rove over her again.

“Um, Chat? I-is it ok?”

He jerked his eyes to her face, finally aware that he had been staring, and saw that she was watching him anxiously. “Guh, Marinette, you look—er, I mean, this is—this is incredible! And—are you wearing chopsticks in your hair?”

“I am!” She turned to show him her hair, which she’d coiled into a bun and secured with a pair of shiny black chopsticks, which were embellished at the ends with tiny green paw prints. “So, you like it?”

“Like it?” He stepped closer to her, and touched a claw to the paw print on one of the chopsticks with something nearing awe. Not only had she dressed herself in his colors from head to toe, but she had made every last bit of it herself. She’d all but marked herself as his. “I fucking love it,” he breathed.

She whirled to face him, grinning happily, and he found himself staring down into her blue, blue eyes, which were presently very, very close to his face. His gaze dropped from her eyes to her lips without consulting him first, and in that moment, he found himself faced with a very intense desire to sweep his hand over her curves, pull her against him, and press his lips to hers. He watched in fascination as her grin faded, and her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips before tugging the lower one in between her teeth. His breath caught, and he found himself swaying toward her.

“Ch-Chat,” she whispered, and he didn’t know if it was a question or an invitation or a rejection, but it was enough to bring his brain back online.

He straightened abruptly, and took several hasty steps back, aware that his pants were feeling uncomfortably tight. What in the hell? Where had all of that come from? She was watching him, wide-eyed, with something like disappointment on her face. He mentally kicked himself, hoping that she wouldn’t notice his uh, problem. Why did he have to go and make it awkward between them? He cleared his throat, uncomfortably aware that he was probably blushing enough for it to show around his mask. “S-sorry about that. I, um, ahem, I love it. You did a great job.”

She opened her mouth to speak, apparently thought better of whatever she was going to say, and closed it again. She looked down, tugged at the hem of her shirt nervously, and one half of it pulled briefly away from the other, revealing a flash of the skin beneath.

The shirt didn’t close all the way down, he realized. Those frogs weren’t just decorative; they were the only things holding the silly thing closed. He leaned heavily against the ladder behind him, feeling poleaxed all over again.

“Thanks,” she finally said, with a small smile.

He blinked, an idea forming in his mind. “Hey, uh, Princess?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind if I took a couple of pictures?” Crap, was that weird? He really hoped she didn’t think it was weird.

Her smile broadened, and it reached her eyes again. “Not at all.”

He tugged his baton from behind his back, and brought up the screen. After tapping the pad for the camera, he snapped a couple with her facing him, and lowered it again uncertainly. “Could you, uh…”

“Turn around? Sure.”

She smiled again, and turned away from him so that he could photograph the back. She had her head turned to the side, so he was able to capture her face in profile. Had she always been so…sexy? He gulped, and hoped that she couldn’t hear. “Perfect. Thanks, Princess.”

“Of course!” She moved to the desk, then, and picked up her phone. “Would you mind taking a selfie with me? I don’t have any pictures of us together…”

“Only if you promise to give me a copy.”

“You know I will, Chaton.” She brought up the camera on her phone, and moved to stand beside him, but the angle was weird.

“Here.” He took the phone from her hands, and stood behind and just to the side of her, and held his arm out to take the picture. He pretended not to notice that her face was right next to his, or that only a few centimeters separated their bodies. He took a few pictures before straightening and taking another step away from her.

He was discovering that her proximity was inversely proportional to his ability to think. He managed to say goodnight without embarrassing himself, and then made his escape. When he was safely several houses over, he stopped and looked pensively back toward her balcony.

They’d grown close over recent months, and he considered her one of his dearest friends. If he had found himself attracted to her, he’d chalked it up to the fact that she was a pretty girl and he was a normal 17 year old guy. He’d never thought beyond that, because he’d been so focused on pursuing Ladybug. It hadn’t occurred to him that he might develop feelings for someone else, and if anyone had asked him yesterday if there was something between him and Marinette, he’d have scoffed.

Now? He wasn’t so sure any more. She’d somehow left him aching without ever touching him, so whatever else he felt for her, he definitely desired her. He adjusted himself in his pants with a sigh, and continued on his way.

**********************

Anyone want to guess what he’s going to be doing when he gets home?

anonymous asked:

7 for the writing thing adrienette ? 😭

Ahh THAT IS A GOOD ONE! (Thanks again @baneismydragon​ for this prompt list.) Holy crap this ended up WAYY longer than intended, my bad lol.

7. Grab ‘em by the collar and kiss ‘em


“Don’t panic,” Adrien called over the wind, his words punctuated by a violent whip of the French flag that caught him across the cheek. Akuma attacks were never convenient, but the worst attacks of all were the ones where he was caught at the epicenter and left without his kwami. Plagg was in his backpack on the first floor of the library, where he and Marinette had been swept up as civilian bait to lure Lady and Chat out of the woodworks. So that’s why the two of them were bound with rope to the flags that stuck out the front of the library near the roof, four stories off the ground, each facing the sidewalk with a pole at their backs.

When she didn’t answer, he swiveled his head to look at her. She was struggling against the rope. Not good. “Marinette, try not to panic. You could fall!”

“I’m - not - panicking,” she grunted, and continued her writhing. “I’m - stra - te - gizing. Yes! Got it!”

“Got what?” Though he trusted Ladybug with his heart and soul, he knew from experience that it was dangerous to count on her timely appearance when there were lives at stake. So if Marinette had a plan that could help in the meantime, he was all for hearing it.

“Pocket knife,” she said, and promptly returned to writhing against the ropes that bound her arms to her sides and to the flagpole above her.

Okay, why did Marinette even have a pocket knife with her at a simple study session? Odd. “Hey, go easy,” he worried, “you’re gonna hurt yourself, Mari.” The rope was giving way for her shoulder, but it wasn’t getting any looser (which would also have been bad, considering that it was there only thing keeping her up). But where her skin started to show, he could see the rope was rubbing it raw. Already a clear burn was taking shape on the one shoulder he could see.

Two steely blue eyes squinted back at him in a way that tugged a familiar heart string. “If we fall it’ll hurt a lot worse. Here, I’ve got it poking out now. Think you could grab it and cut me loose?”

Adrien blanched as the mental image of her plummeting four stories flared up in his mind like a wailing siren. Nooope. No. No way. “Cut me loose instead,” he suggested. “My arms are tied too tight, I can’t get one free.” Lies. He was sure he could, but he was NOT cutting her loose unless his arms were free enough to grab her.

It was obvious that idea terrified her. “Oh, I don’t know, Adrien. You could fall!”

He just gaped at her. This was the girl that had, literally two seconds ago, asked him to cut her loose without batting an eye. But when he asked the same, she balked.

How on Earth did the idea of him falling scare her more than the idea of her falling?

“Just do it,” he urged. “I’m agile, okay? I won’t fall. Marinette, look at me.” She was starting to panic so he waited for her to slow her breathing and look him in the eye again, exuding as much calmness as he possibly could. “I won’t fall.”

The quiver in her lip and the wetness in her eyes woke a million dormant questionsㅡthings that had been stirring ever since she sought him out four months ago on the day after graduation, with the words ‘I’d like to get to know you better’ on her tongue.

“Promise?” she whispered, and the word was packed with more meaning and emotions than he’d known that word could carry. Her eyes burned with answers to the question he had never been brave enough to ask. Near death experiences had a way of burning all the veils. She didn’t even have to say it. He saw it on her face, as bright as the high noon sun that cast their shadows in harsh relief amidst the gathering crowd far below. I love you.

He set his jaw. “I promise.”

It took her just over a minute to cut through the first loop of the rope wound around his torso, and once she did he immediately felt the slack pulling his back away from the flagpole. A few whips of rope and he was fallingㅡor rather, he would have been falling if he hadn’t been ready. But his hands flew up the instant they were free and caught hold of the pole near his head, leaving his legs to swing out wide and the unraveling rope to drip from his body in loopy waves, finally leaving him completely free. The crowd below surged with commotion. Cries and gasps abounded as Adrien fought for his grip on the bendy pole, scarcely able to see through the striped French flag as it fluttered madly.

Once the pole stopped wobbling, he was able to get a good swing going. A few deep breaths, then up and over. It was a cheap easy trick for Chat Noir. For Adrien Agresteㅡa powerless civilian seventy feet above the groundㅡit was borderline suicidal. But it was like muscle memory, and after a smooth 180 spin he stuck the landing, feet coming to rest between his hands on the pole. The resulting crouch may have been a bit too ‘Chat’ for his secret’s sake, but with Marinette’s life (quite literally) on the line, he wasn’t really thinking about that.

The half-horrified, half-awed look on her face made him wonder if she was thinking about it, though.

“Alright, hang tight,” he said, and he actually had to catch himself from tacking on a ‘princess’ there at the end. This was so not the time to accidentally reveal that her good friend Adrien was also the masked crusader that often saved her from harm with flirty lines that he was entirely too proud of. “I’m coming to get you, okay?”

“What, no!” she blurted, her face pulled askance with fresh horror. “No, just climb up! You can reach the roof ledge from there, Adrien, go for help!”

“And leave you tied here as human bait?” he asked, preparing for the jump by mentally calculating the angle and trajectory. “Not fucking likely.”

“Adrien don'tㅡAH!” She screamed as his hands made contact with the base of her flagpole as simply as if he was a gymnast moving bars. “Adrien? Adrien!” She struggled in place to turn her head, but it was impossible to see him from where he was.

“Still here,” he soothed, but it came out rather forced as he was currently climbing up onto the pole. Couldn’t risk a flip this time, with her attached to this one. Once he was up, he took a second to catch his breath and calm his racing heart before hatching the next phase of his plan. “You trust me, right?”  

“I don’t like that question in this context,” she squeaked. “But yes.”

“Then I’m gonna get you out of there. Take my hand.”

Spreading his weight out longways above her so as not to bend the pole any more than it was already bending, he took the pocket knife from her free hand and locked his forearm tightly with hers, hand to wrist and wrist to hand. Then he set about cutting her free. It took even less time than it had taken for him, considering she’d already loosened her bonds quote a bit in freeing her arm. There was a frightening moment when he felt her slipping away from him, but she was quick and had her hand on the pole before the rope had finished unraveling. After a short tense struggle she had climbed her way up onto the pole beside him.

“Fuck me,” she breathed, eyeing the two bundles of rope on the sidewalk far below. “That could have been us…”

They got to their feet as one unit, with Adrien leaning on the wall for support and she with her arms cinched tightly around his bicep. From here, the distance to the roof was a few feet above Adrien’s head.

“You first,” she directed, “then you can pull me up.”

Adrien could hear the gathered onlookers cheering as he pulled himself up, then turned around to lay flat on the rooftop and reach over the edge to lock hands with Marinette again. That fierce determination filled her eyes once more as she grabbed ahold of him and ran up the wall with a surprising amount of ease and dexterity. This girl was just full of surprises today. First the secret pocket knife, then the willpower of a god that drove her to free her arms through a mile of rope burns, and now she was running up walls likeㅡ like…

The thought was instantly detailed as she completed her run up the wall and slammed into him on her way over the edge, sending them both rolling backwards into safety. “Oh my god, your arms,” Adrien gasped, catching sight of the rope burns on her bare shoulders before they’d even begun to untangle themselves from each other.

But she didn’t hear him. Still laying prone on the bare concrete roof with her strew haphazardly across his body, he’d barely gotten himself propped up onto his elbows when she looked him in the eye, seized his collar, and kissed him with a desperation that was somehow both furious and triumphant.

He couldn’t help it; he gasped.

Upon feeling his shock, she ripped herself away. “Sorry,” she squeaked. But as she rolled off and tried to stand, his arms shot out after her and pulled her back to return her furious kiss with one equally as fervent. Soft fingers threaded into his hair as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Their lips moved in tandem, spelling out words in an unspeakable language. God, how he’d wanted this. Why did he wait so damn long? A noise of smothered longing escaped Marinette’s throat and he reveled in it, tasting it, bathing in the fact that she was alive and unharmed and definitely absolutely as in love with him as he was with her. This kiss was more heart pounding than the entire experience of being left out as bait. By the time Marinette paused to speak he had worked himself into a state of underailable passion.

“You were amazing,” she sighed, and her breath on his lips was a drug.

“Me? Are you kidding? You were amazing! I can’t believe you had a pocket knifeㅡ”

“ㅡcan’t believe you just swung up like that andㅡ”

“ㅡeven though it was burning you. I swear you’re the most incredibleㅡ”

“ㅡreally thought you were going to fall and I don’t know what I’d have done if youㅡ”

“Hey,” he interrupted gently, and nudged her nose with his. “I promised I wouldn’t fall. Didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, and her hands trailed down from his hair back onto his collar, where they stayed. “You did.”

 .

.

Thanks for the prompt, anon, this was a super fun to write. xoxo

anonymous asked:

Can you please do the gay notebook prompt from the school list for JaredxEvan? Thanks

“I accidentally grabbed your notebook and I found a crap ton of gay writings/doodles and they’re amazing. Wait, are those combinations of our names all over the pages?”  i’m working the other prompts in my inbox now, so if you haven’t seen yours, it’ll be up soon! thank you for the submissions! by @neglectedrainbow also shout out to @iconiquc for helping me with ideas for this one!

So Evan’s in a minor panic. It’s no big deal, really, nothing to worry about at all. He just cannot find his math notebook, and he’s already almost failing that class, because none of it makes any sense, and now he’s truly falling apart at the seams.

He stares at the small blue notebook in his hands, one that is most definitely not his own. Evan tries to take a deep breath, and, rather than allow the fear to overtake him, Evan decides to reexamine this foreign notebook himself. Obviously, he’s going to have to return it to the original owner, so he chooses to slowly leaf through the front pages, hoping to find a name.

There’s nothing.

On the title page, where the owner’s name is prompted, someone wrote, “101 Reasons why i’m the Most™ Homosexual.” Evan stares for a few moments, wondering vaguely what that even means.

Carefully, Evan continues to turn the pages. There is little information on the first few pages, which seem to act as a barrier for what’s ahead. Finally, by the tenth page, there is a drawing. It’s small, located only in the lower left corner, done in smudged pencil. Because it’s been erased so many times, redrawn and re-erased seemingly endlessly, Evan can’t quite make out what it is.

He continues onward, examining little doodles along the way. They are all surrounded in scrawling letters, reading “what to say to him?” and “i’m sorry i don’t know what to do. i never do, but neither do you, so maybe we’re ok?” These sketches mainly contain hands, fingertips between which a pencil rests. As he moves onward, the artist seems to become more daring, including the entire upper body of this person.

The subject seems hunched over, inwardly drawn, in a majority of the drawings, but there are some, some that stick out with their particularly spectacular detail and precision, that show a relaxed young man, his body moving as though in the middle of a laugh.

On one page, there is an entire form. The muse, Evan presumes, entirely. His head is turned away, partially hidden behind a raised hand, but Evan can see a blush, a smile, and crinkled eyes. The subject is drawn with such grace, such precision, such careful attentiveness. There is a longing behind every pencil stroke.

He continues flipping through the pages, until he reaches nearly the end of the book. There, words are writing haphazardly across the thick paper. However, these “words” appear to actually be a random assortment of letters. “Jaran. Jarvan. Jarevan. Jaredvan. Erad. Evrad. Evared. Evanman. Evleinman. Evaleinman. Hanman. Kleinsen. Hanklein. Jaren. Jansen.” The last one is written over and over again, followed by an extensive amount of exclamation points.

As he reads over the page, Evan’s mind suddenly clicks. He pushes away the conclusion, though, shaking his head roughly, deeming it impossible. Until, that is, he turns the page. And finds himself staring at none other than himself.

It’s Evan, most definitely. With his striped, multicolored shirt, his short, precise haircut, his downturned eyes. But this drawing, this creation, is multiple times more stunning than anything Evan’s ever seen in the mirror. He can barely recognize himself in the grinning, bright, eyes, the clearly drawn teeth. There is this glow, this stunning aura around the portrait, as though the subject is as engaging as the work itself.

Quickly, he closes the book, his mind racing. Now, he recognizes this blue notebook. He thinks of Jared, sitting across from him during study hall, leaning back in his chair and scribbling onto these pages. Jared, looking peaceful and content, with his brown hair so perfectly framing his face, with his flowing pencil, his thoughtful, adorable, beautiful, handsome expressions.

Evan always assumed he was writing notes for English, perhaps, never creating masterpieces.

The notebook, its pages, stay burned into his memory for the rest of the night.


The day morning, he slowly approaches Jared in the hallway. Suddenly, he notices a softness in Jared’s gaze that he’s never before acknowledged. His thoughts continue racing.

Jared leans against his locker, running a hand through his hand roughly. He clears his throat, shifting from foot to foot. “Hey, have you–by any chance–seen this blue notebook?” Jared asks tiredly. “I couldn’t find it after seventh, and you’re in my sixth period study hall, so?”

“Um…” Evan bites the inside of his lip, unsure to what he should admit. “Yeah, actually, I-I think I mistook it for my math notebook, and I might’ve-I’m sorry.” He bends down and rummages through his backpack, producing the thin notebook and offering it to Jared, who rips it out of his hands immediately, a look of horror across his face.

“Shit. Shit, fuck, Evan, did you-” He searches Evan’s eyes, clutching the book tight to his chest.

Evan swallows. “You’re a really good artist, Jared.”

For a split second, Jared’s face brightens, a flicker of a smile appearing, before falling completely. “Um, how much…how much did you see?”

Evan blinks slowly. “All of it.”

Jared’s entire body slacks, and he shakes his head roughly, “I-it was all…” Jared deflates even further. “Fuck,” he whispers, “I get it if you, like, want to never see me again or whatever, like.

“No, no, no,” Evan hurries to explain himself, “I thought-I saw them all, and I thought…” He takes a step towards Jared. “My only thought what that they were the most amazing things I’d ever seen.” Jared stares at him with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “I didn’t even know you could draw, so… They’re really, really amazing, and I-I think…” Evan blinks slowly. “No one’s ever drawn me before.”

Jared opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. “You’re the only thing I draw, Hansen.” Their gaze meets, and Jared’s posture relaxes. “So, you don’t hate me.”

“No, no, not at all. It’s kinda the sweetest thing…ever?” Evan smiles, “I never knew that you…”

“I do. I always have.” Jared nods quickly, and the air around them is warm.

Evan smiles, “Me too.”

crush // stiles stilinski

request : Hey! I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if I could get one with Stiles where your Liam’s older sister and stiles has a crush on you and Liam blurts it out to you and it’s all fluffy?? Sorry if it’s confusing thank you :)

word count : 2k (fucking long ik)

 Stiles was sweating. 

  Usually, he wouldn’t mind so much, as it is the middle of August and he lived in California. Who really cared if he was sweating in the summertime? Pretty much everyone was. However, he was now acutely aware of the fact that the sweat pouring from his body was going to stain through his white shirt that he had insisted on wearing even though his dad had adamantly advised him against it. And the reason he was so aware this time as opposed to all other times when he would have simply taken his sweaty shirt and flung it across the room at someone unsuspecting instead of worrying about it was simply because of you. He never would have thought that older sister of Liam Dunbar could make this tense or excited. 

  Or that she would be so damn pretty

   Stiles leaned toward Scott, angling himself purposely away from you even though you were seated on a different chair that was positioned nowhere near him. “Scott? Scott, how badly am I sweating right now? Be honest,” he pleaded, eyes darting around the room until he could pinpoint your exact location in regards to him. 

   “You’re not even sweating, dude, calm down,” Scott told him, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Is Miss Dunbar making you a liiiiiittle nervous, buddy?” He snickered, sneaking a peek at the girl in question before he returned to amusedly looking at Stiles- who was frantic. “Why do you look like you’re gonna vomit?” 

    “Dude, you can’t just look at her. You’re gonna blow my cover, okay?” Stiles paused, as if to say “watch and learn,” when he saw that you walking over to the him and Scott. Scott winced when Stiles offered you a half grin half grimace and awkwardly reassembled himself on the couch in what he thought was a casual stance, but was really the strangest position the boy had ever thrown himself in, in Scott’s humble opinion. You didn’t even glance at him, busy scolding your younger brother for the way he was eating. 

   “Liam, stop being unhealthy, it’s gross to put that much salt on your fries,” you frowned, shaking your head at him and yanking the salt shaker away. Liam scoffed, taking it back with a roll of his eyes. “Um, what do you think you’re doing-” 

  As the bickering between you and your brother continued, Stiles turned back to Scott. “How did I do? Casual, right? She’ll never even know how much I like her if I just act like that, it’s the perfect cover. I’m good,” he patted himself on the back proudly, grinning to himself when Liam bounded over to them. 

   He plopped himself down between Scott and Stiles, eyes squeezed shut. “Y/N is so annoying, isn’t she? She can’t tell me what I can and can’t eat. It’s ridiculous. I’m, like, almost seventeen. And she thinks that just ‘cause she’s eighteen she’s so mature and old. Like, shut up.” He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face in exhaustion. “You have no idea the torture it is having to endure having someone like her around all the time.” 

    Before he could stop himself, Stiles found the words, “Can I find out?” slipping out of his mouth. Liam’s eyes cracked open, and Scott leaned across the younger boy to slap Stiles in the back of the head. “Yeah, definitely deserved that,” he mumbled, sinking low in his seat. Liam’s face contorted into a look of disgust as he glared up at Stiles. 

    “Keep your dirty thoughts about my sister to yourself, please,” he folded his arms across his chest, appearing even unhappier than before. “What does it take to get just a little bit of respect around here? I’m mature, too! I don’t deserve this!” He exclaimed, head in his hands as Scott patted his head soothingly. 

   “Hey, I do not have dirty thoughts about-” Scott shot him a look. “Yeah, I’m not gonna finish that sentence. But, I actually like her. A lot.” 

   “You’re not just gonna use her, right?” Liam’s narrowed blue eyes locked with Stiles’ own, searching for any signs of dishonesty in his words. “’Cause I mean, she annoys the shit out of me, but that’s my sister. Even if I’m younger, I could kick your ass into another dimension. Just saying,” he added as a hasty afterthought, flashing a sort of smile at Scott when his alpha raised his eyebrows at him. 

   “I would never use her,” Stiles replied sincerely. “I try not to talk about her too much, but you guys don’t know how much I like her. She actually makes me laugh, she’s a sweetheart, she’s sarcastic, she’s always checking up on me, and she’s beautiful. Inside and out. So there,” he finished in a matter-of-fact tone, leaving no room for a discussion on whether or not his feelings were valid. Liam nodded, leaning back in his seat and switching the topic to whether or not too much salt was really that unhealthy for him.  He seemed to think that being a werewolf made him exempt from everything that could possibly be damaging to his health, since he had the ability to heal oh so quickly. 

   Y/N walked into the room having heard her name come up multiple times in the conversation the boys were having, her expression stern as she cast a look at her little brother. “Liam, stop talking shit about me. It’s rude. And they were my friends first.” 

   “They were not! I met them first!” He exclaimed, indignant. “Stop telling me what to do, you’re eighteen not twenty eight. You’re two years older!” To make a point of annoying you, he reached toward the coffee table for his plate of way too salty fries and shoved a few in his mouth, chewing loudly as he scowled at you. 

   “Exactly!” You snapped, walking toward him and taking away the food again. “All you eat is crap. And, just for the record, you met them first. You didn’t like them and they weren’t your friends first. They liked me better than they liked you!” 

  Stiles, standing up very suddenly and making everyone’s heads swivel toward him, said very loudly and awkwardly, “She’s got a point, kid!” You, slightly flattered by the way the boy was staring at you- all doe eyes and cloudy glances and soft, encouraging smiles- felt your cheeks warming up. 

   “Ha, thank you, Stiles,” you smiled warmly at him, walking over to where he was standing in front of Liam and placing a hand on his shoulder. His heart practically lit up as he felt your soft hand on his arm, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt ever so slightly. He turned his head toward where you hand was, then lifted his eyes to meet your own. And, finally, you were looking back. 

   Angrily, Liam snapped back, “Stiles doesn’t agree with you because you’re right! He’s agreeing because he’s, like, head over heels completely in love with your annoying ass, for some strange reason!” He seemed to want to take the words back as soon as they slipped out of his mouth, because his eyes went wide as if he couldn’t even believe he had spoken such things. “I- I mean, you know…” His mouth opened and closed wordlessly, Stiles frozen in shock, Scott staring from one surprised face to another before he finally gripped Liam’s elbow and led the idiot out of the room, shaking his head in exasperation all the way. You swore you heard him grumble, “This pack gives me such a headache sometimes,” under his breath before he tried to drag Liam into the kitchen. 

  Stiles, who up until this point had been practically petrified standing next to you, made a lunge for your younger brother. Liam pretty much let out a shriek, jumping away from Scott and rolling backward, scrambling away from Stiles. “You’re such a little shit!” Stiles yelled, grabbing at Liam’s foot, since that was the only body part of his within reach. “I wasn’t ready to say anything, you dumbs!” He swung his arms forward, trying to yank Liam’s hair out of his head while you stood frozen, confused as to what the hell was even going on right now. 

  “Oh my God, guys, get off each other!” Scott groaned, pushing Stiles away and swatting Liam’s hands before they could grab hold of Stiles. “Liam, come with me, Stiles stay here. Don’t even look at each other,” he instructed as an afterthought, when Stiles shot Liam another nasty glare and made a move to strangle him. 

  Then, you were alone with Stiles. Who wasn’t looking at you.  

  You walked over to him, he side stepped away. You marched in front of him, he turned around and practically fell over the couch trying to dash away. Finally, before he could run and hide in the bathroom, you rushed forward and jumped on his back, hanging onto his neck tightly without daring to let go. “Okay, Y/N, get off. You’re gonna make me feel weird.” 

   “Why would you feel weird?” You whispered it in his ear, and your voice made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and his body shiver. “This is the only way to get you to listen to me, clearly. I would prefer if you were looking me in the eyes, but…” you trailed off, waiting for Stiles to sit you on the couch next to him, which you knew he was going to do. He didn’t answer for a moment, but he did exactly what you thought he would and took a seat besides you. 

   “I-I- I would feel weird, because, well, you know,” he blustered, waving his hand dismissively with eyebrows raised slightly and those brown eyes boring into your own with a strange intensity. He had never really looked into your eyes before, not like this. “Well, you know what I mean. You- you heard your dumb brother say it… you- you know how I feel already, Y/N, so just let me down gently and don’t make me say it again. ‘Cause I know that you don’t feel the same way, you barely even look at me, let alone notice the way I look at you, a-and it’s just stupid of me to feel this way since you’re you and I’m about a six and a half on a scale of one to ten, and that’s on a good day, and you literally break the scale and I’m probably not good and-” 

   His voice stopped working when you put your face close to his, pretty eyes flickering over his face, down to his lips. He swallowed the lump in his throat, noting very quickly that his lips were chapped and probably gross looking and you were staring, staring hard at him like you were seeing him for the first time, a cliche as it is. He tilted his head to the side just a little bit, but just enough. “Are we… are we gonna kiss?” He whispered boyishly, tipping his face forward so his the edge of his somehow perfect nose was rubbing against your own. You sighed, your lips curving in a smile anyway despite Stiles sort of ruining the moment. 

  “Way to point out the obvious,” you muttered. But you took his face in your hands anyway and pulled him toward you. His mouth pushed against yours, soft and eagerly. As if he’d been waiting for this. You went to pull away for a moment, though he stopped you quickly by lightly tugging on your lower lip, drawing you back in. This time, he was slipping his hands up your waist and trailing them along your body before they came to rest in your hair as your own hands fell to his shoulders. 

  When you came up for air, his face pink and his smile ever so wide, he said, as only he would, “Does this mean you’ve been crushing on me, too?” 

  “Stiles, I’m begging you, stop with the stupid questions before I actually decide to crush you. With my foot or something.”  

  Cheekily, Stiles replied, “How about you crush my lips with yours again? Hm?” And a question like that requires only one answer, naturally.

Huntress- Part Sixteen: Wayward Daughters

Sam x Daughter!Reader, takes place in S12 E16 so warning: SPOILERS

Part one
Part two
Part three
Part four
Part five

Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve

Part Thirteen
Part Fourteen
Part Fifteen

Perched on the table, your legs swinging underneath you shared a bored look with Uncle Dean as he paced the room. Your Dad had his arms folded, but hadn’t given up yet. You knew Mick would come, he’d never turn his nose up at a meeting with the Winchesters- you could only dream.

“That’s it I’m waiting in the car-” Uncle Dean declared, readying himself to leave. Only, Dad stopped him. “Wait, come on-”

“No. Okay I didn’t sign up for this reporting for duty crap!”

“Just wait.” You sighed, not bothering to deal with any conflict.
“Sorry I’m late.” Mick’s voice made Uncle Dean turn round, shooting him a frown. “My report ran over. Everything’s been a bit hectic till uh…well,” he glanced down at the blood stain “Well. Best not to dwell.”
“Must be so hard for you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Okay, enough. What’s the deal?” Dad silenced the argument before i escalated any further.

“Case in Wisconsin. Looked like an animal attack. The girl’s in the hospital, but her brother lost his heart. We recon it’s a werewolf.”
“That left a survivor?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe it got scared before it could finish the job?” Uncle Dean suggested. Mick shook his head doubtfully “Perhaps but it usually takes more than just a fright to put a werewolf off it’s meal.”
“The hell do you know that?” Uncle Dean scoffed.
“I studied them at Kendrick’s.”
“Kendrick’s?” Dad echoed.

“It’s where British Hunters train. Kinda like Hogwarts.” You explained.
“Cool.” 
“Not cool.” You countered.

“The case sounds easy enough.” Uncle Dean shrugged, ignoring any more points to be made.
“Then you won’t mind if I tag a long?” Mick tilted his head, aware he’d get some serious reactions out of that statement. You snorted, “Nice one, mate.”

“Mick, hunting isn’t really what you’re suited for…” Dad was trying to be a little more nicer about it than you had been. “There was a reason Mum never taught you.” You smirked- no doubt offending him in the process.

“I’m a fast learner.” He remarked “Our team were thinkers. We need to be ready for whatever happens next.

“One moment.” Uncle Dean threw his head back, gesturing for you and Dad to have a “talk” about it. When you were outside he rolled his eyes “No way this is happening.”
“Dean, these people have some serious knowledge.”
“I have that same knowledge, though!” You protested.
“Y/N’s right. Besides, you can’t learn this crap in a book. You put on a flannel, you pick up a gun and you go out there and you get good fast or you get dead faster.”
“He might come in handy.”
“What if he get’s himself killed?”
“I heard that.” Mick appeared at his side, making Uncle Dean back away a little from him: “Good.”


Unfortunately, Mick was in the back of the Impala next to you so you sat on one side, staring at your phone screen. To add to the excitement, Mick had one of his stupid podcasts playing. Sure, you liked interesting facts, but this was just torture. “Had to listen to one of his podcasts?” Uncle Dean frowned at his brother. Mick paused it, not wanting to miss anything.
“It’s educational. Besides, I’ve been wanting to listen to this one.” Dad sighed.
“And there I was beginning to think you weren’t so bad.” You rolled your eyes, getting a smile from your Uncle.

After they continued to argue over hunting, you took a headphone out and decided to see if it was worth getting into. “I’d take a handful of silver bullets any day over that crap!”
“That crap, meant that the last werewolf seen in England was in the 20s.” Mick sassed. You mimicked Mr K’s posh accent “The last serious werewolf case in the United Kingdom was in 1923. I can’t believe you listen to him.”
“Thank you for that, Ketch.” Mick rolled his eyes.
“Any time, Davis.” You sassed.

“Were they all evil?” Dad asked, going back to the werewolves.
“I’m sorry?” 
“Well not all werewolves are. We had a friend who was bitten, but he learnt to control it. Alongside lots of others.”
“Werewolf’s are natural born killers. Monster’s don’t just stop becoming monsters.”
“Mick-” You wanted to stop him, but he kept going.
“They live to kill!”
“Not everything’s in black and white you know.” You sighed.

Mick might have ignored you. Or perhaps he didn’t care: “Turn here.”


After flicking through endless lore books on all sorts of mythology, Dad, Uncle Dean and Mick arrived back from the hospital. They’d gone for more information, but it felt like they’d gone for a holiday at the speed they were taking things. They got in and began to explain what had happened.
“She wasn’t bitten?” You were surprised to hear that “You sure?”
“Positive.” Mick didn’t look at you when he spoke.
“So now what?”
“Well. You remember Jody?” Dad turned in his seat a little to face you.
“The Sheriff Hunter?”
“That’s her. She has two uh…adopted daughters. One of them, Claire Novak, is here working on the case. She’s gotta be about your age actually.”
“Novak?” You repeated it, you could have sworn you’d heard that name somewhere before. “Isn’t that…Cas’ vessel’s name?”
“Yeah…” Uncle Dean nodded “How did you know that?”
“He told me.” You shrugged.

Not that you’d admit it, you were excited to meet another Hunter your age. You just hoped she wasn’t a jerk…but, if Jody brought her up how bad could she be?

You sat down next to Dad on the sofa, Dean sitting the other side of you. Opposite was who must have been Claire. She had long blonde hair and the sort of eyes that changed from blue to green. She wore a jacket like yours, only it was green. She had the Hunter look for sure. Her head tilted and eyes furrowed in your direction “Who are you?” She asked. 

“Y/N.” You answered, not sure what else to say.
“Claire, this is my daughter.” Dad explained. Her eyes widened and she smiled a little “Daughter?”
“Sup.” You nodded.
“Your accent…British, right?”
“Which one?” You rolled your eyes.
“There’s more than one?” 
“Yeah-lots.” 
“Oh…sorry.”
You smiled “That’s cool.”

“You hunt?” She asked, obviously curious.
“Duh.” You smirked, making her smile.

“Beers all round.” Mick appeared, placing beers down on the table. “Who are you?” Claire was now even more confused.
“Mick Davis. British Men Of Letters.” Mick took her hand, shaking hers and his at the same time.
“Long story.” Dean sighed.
Long story.” You agreed.

You and Claire both reached for a beer when Dad and Uncle Dean stopped you. “No.” They both said, dragging the bottles away from your grasp. You both shared a look before sitting back.

“Either way. That alibi…massive lie.” Claire continued.
“Hayden’s Mom said the same thing.” Dad nodded. “Where was she?”
“Local dive bar. Eating trash…anyway she was on a date. But the guy was a total douche-bag. Motorcycle, weird-ass hair, snarky…grabby.”
“Grabby?” Uncle Dean echoed, he did not like the sound of that.
“I’m a big girl,” Claire assured him “I handled it.”

“Better call it a night.” Mick rose, having barely been seated for a minute.
“It’s 5:30.” You frowned.
“My reports due in at six sharp. Nice meeting you.”

You watched him go, becoming more and more suspicious but it was too ealy to say anything. “So…” Claire spoke up “Your foreign exchange student it totally lame.”
“Which one?” Uncle Dean joked. You hit his side, making him almost drop his beer. “Ow!”

Anyway,” Dad cleared his throat “Why aren’t you with Jody?”
“She’s busy with Sheriff stuff. Said to call if anything came up.”
‘Sheriff stuff’ sounded incredibly vague to you.


You watched in fascination as Claire dressed herself up to look twice her age. “Why do you keep staring at me?”
“How?” You asked in amazement.
“It’s so I pass as FBI. Why what do you usually do?”
“Wait in the car…” You admitted, realising how pathetic that sounded.
“That sucks.” She chuckled “Come here, I’ll show you.”


The Hospital was pretty big with endless corridors and hallways, but you found your way to the right room. Last night Hayden, who was in the hospital before, had died.”
“Any idea what happened to her?”
“The autopsy isn’t till tomorrow…it’s hard to tell. Perhaps a heart attack.”
“At her age?” You asked, well aware she was probably similar age to you.
“Well…yeah that’s what’s weird. Also, when we first found her she had gashes all along her arms. Now…” The Doctor pulled back the sheets to reveal her bare arms. There was no sign of any sort of wounds.

“Excuse me.” The Doctor left the room, leaving you all to ponder over the case.
“What the hell?” Claire started off with the same words that had been running through your mind since you’d arrived.
“What if she…turned?” Dad suggested.
“I guess that would explain how she healed…but then how did she die? And you said she wasn’t bitten.” You pointed at Mick who stuttered for words.
“Not that I saw.”

“None of this is making any sense.” Uncle Dean shook his head.

“But if she did turn then that means the werewolf wanted her turned.” Mick suggested. “So it’d have to be friends…family…”
“Someone from the bar.” Claire finished.

“Okay, Sam, you and Claire go talk to the girl she was supposed to be crashing with. Me and Mick’ll hit the bar. Y/N, pick a side.”
You rolled your eyes and followed on after your Dad.


Claire grabbed her headphones from the back of the car before putting her hand on the door handle. “Okay, so you wait here.” She ordered your Dad, making you chuckle.
“What?”
“You really think she’s gonna want to talk to some old skeezer…or us.” 
“She’s got a point, Dad.”You patted his shoulder before spelling aloud “B r b.”


After getting the information you needed from her friend you headed back out, only you paused in the doorway. “You coming?” Claire raised an eyebrow, turning round.
“I will be. Just need to uh…make a phone call.” You said, heading round the back.
“Okay.” 

You hovered over the caller ID before pressing “call”. It rang for quite some time, reaching the point where you almost didn’t think they were going to pick up.
“Y/N? What’re you doing?” He answered.
“You called me yesterday,” You began “Why do you keep calling me?”
“I can’t say it to your face..your Dad might overhear me and then that’ll just spark even more questions.”
“So what if he does hear you? All you do is say dumb stuff.” You sighed.
“I’m sorry. I should never have intruded on your family.” He sighed.
“You keep saying that. In every damn voice mail you’ve left.” You snapped. “I’m fed up. Just say it to me. It’s ridiculous! We see each other every other bloody day and you ignore me. But the moment you’re not near me you call up to say sorry for everything!” 
“You’re right…I’m not as brave as you.” 
“I swear to God the next time you call me I’m going find you and throw your phone off a cliff. Stop it. Stop leaving voicemails I never listen to and stop apologising. I don’t care anymore.”
“Y/N…”
“Mick. Grow up.”

You hung up. Fed up of Mick calling you. So what if he had things to say? If they were that important he’d say them to your face. He’d left those messages a few months back…he kept apologising and you’d had enough.
When you turned the corner you were greeted with the sight of Claire walking off in a huff from your Dad. Oh boy.
“What did you say?” You asked, looking impressed he’d managed to piss her off that quickly.
“Jody thinks she’s looking at colleges.” Dad sighed.
“And?” You shrugged, earning a shocked look.
“And?!”
“Yeah. If she wants to hunt she wants to hunt. She’s not stupid.”
“I know. It’s just not as simple as that.”
“It should be.” You sighed.

You were about to add to your point when you noticed he wasn’t fully convinced, but froze when a cry of pain erupted from the nearby woodlands. After worriedly glancing at your Dad, the pair of you leapt into action. 

You raced down towards the noise, fiddling with the inside of your jacket t grab your knife from the pocket. Only, when you reached the incident there was no obvious threat. “Claire!” Dad shouted, kneeling down beside her and clutching her close to him. She was still just coming out from an unconscious state, her eyes blinking into reality. You knelt down in front of her and examined her for wounds. Your eyes landed on her shoulder. The army-green jacket had a rip where the rims of the tear where dyed crimson. Blood was pouring from the scratch…no…bite

“Dad…” You managed, trying not to make it anymore painful for her. Dad glanced down to where you were looking and his face fell. “Oh God…”


“How long do I have?” Claire’s shaken voice filled the tense air.
“Sometimes it takes a full moon and sometimes it just takes time.” Dad answered.
“Can I help?” Mick asked.
“Stay out!” Uncle Dean snapped.
“I understand you’re angry-”
Dad didn’t let him finish “Listen. You killed a kid. We’re not angry we’re done!”
Mick turned his helpless eyes to you and you glared back “Don’t look at me I’m not helping you.” You spat, drawing your attention back to Claire. You sat down next to her and peeled the bandage back a little, examining her wound like you could help.

It had worsened considerably more since you’d last seen it. Now a deep red with swelling purples surrounding the teeth marks. You stuck it back over, patting her back gently. 
“Listen to me,” Uncle Dean knelt down in front of her and clasped hold of her hand. “I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but you can live with this.” He assured her.
Claire shook her head, “No…not me.”
“All you have to do is lock yourself up a couple nights a month. Other than that you’ll be just you.” He carried on, ignoring her protests.
“Dean listen to me!” She cried, making him stop “I can barely keep it together on a good day. I don’t want to hurt Jody…or Alex…I’d rather die.” 

You watched her eyes glisten with tears as she spoke, her hands shaking a little. You understood her completely, if you ever reached that a point in your life you know which route you’d take.

“Mick…there’s an experiment…it says here one out of nine subjects were cured.” Dad read over your shoulder.
“That experiment was on mice. It doesn’t work.” Mick sighed, but when he saw Uncle Dean’s stern glare he explained “We experimented with the blood of some werewolves.”
“You can reverse the early stages in rodents.” You piped up “Not humans.”
“How do you know?” Uncle Dean snapped, angry you were so against the idea.
“Because we tested on a human once.” Mick answered for you.
“And?” Dad pushed, his eyebrows raising expectantly.
“She died in agony.” You whispered, not looking anyone on the eye.

Claire hadn’t given up, it seemed: “Second time lucky?”
“No.” Uncle Dean stated “You don’t get a vote in this.”
“It’s my life.” Claire protested “I get all the votes.”
“Sam…Y/N…wanna back me up here?”
“It’s her life.” Dad agreed.
“Don’t, Claire.” You sided with Uncle Dean, not wanting Claire to die the same way the last one did.
She glared at you “Why should you get a say and not me?”
“Because I’ve seen what happens.” You argued, trying not to shout at her.
“That was one time.” She scoffed.
Please.” You were out of reasons “You can’t.”

“Watch me.”

“Okay….what do we need?” Uncle Dean changed his tune, having decided.
You stared at him in shock, feeling very much in a corner. Mick hesitated “Uh…blood from the werewolf that bit her.”
“Okay, me and Sam’ll go. Y/N, you stay here and make sure he doesn’t kill again.” Uncle Dean pointed at Mick.
You nodded reluctantly, you couldn’t believe they were actually going along with this. When the door closed you slumped back in the chair, lost for words and to tired to say anything if you knew what to say.

After a few minutes of silence Claire spoke up- “Why are you so against this idea?”
“Like I said, I’ve seen it happen. It didn’t end well. Not for anyone.” You sighed, sharing a worried glance with Mick. Then, you got angry. “Why did you tell them. If you’d have kept your stupid mouth shut none of this would have happened!” You shouted at him.
“I-I didn’t mean…”
“Shut up! I’m fed up with you and your-” Your rant was broken by Claire hissing of pain, she stumbled over some furniture as she tried to turn in the mirror to see her bite-mark.
You held your tongue, forcing yourself into silence so she didn’t feel anymore stressed. “This is your fault.” You murmured before helping Claire.

“It burns!” She managed through her deep breaths. The three of you watched as her wounds began to heal- she was beginning to turn.
“Claire, we need to tie you up so you don’t hurt anyone and so we don’t have to hurt you, okay?” You said calmly.

She ignored you and reached for the gun, Mick grabbed it in the nick of time and held it out in front of himself. “Please, you don’t understand.” Claire hissed through the pain “It’s happening. Give it to me!”
“No.” 
You froze. You didn’t know what to do anymore. Death by a bullet would be less painful than what was to come…but what if she was right? What if it did work? “Then you do it!” She begged. Her desperate eyes then fell on your gun in your pocket “Or you! If you want me dead so bad!”
“That’s not what I want…Mick put the gun down.” You ordered him.
“I know a man that would shoot you right now without second thought. Every instinct I have tells me to do the same…but my instincts haven’t been so grand of lately…” You listened curiously as Mick explained “So sit down. I’m not gonna shoot you.”
You offered your hand as she stumbled towards the sofa, helping her sit down. She didn’t let go.

“With any luck, when you wake up this will all be over.” Mick trid to reassure her as he put everything together ready to restrain her.
“If I wake up.” Claire corrected.

A loud crash tore your attention away from her as a man with a skull mask opened up the doors. “Stay back!” Mick shouted. He attempted to shoot the man with his pistol, but the man was much quicker. He dodged and slammed his fist into Mick’s head, making him unconscious. You and Claire shared a worried look, she smashed a vase onto his head, but it didn’t seem to phase him. You reached for your gun yet realised halfway that this must be a werewolf. Bullets meant nothing and you were out of silver. That hesitation was your mistake, a heavy object smashed into the side of your head and you were out cold.

“Claire!” A familiar shout dragged you into reality. “…Y/N!”
You felt two strong arms haul you up off the floor, forcing you to look into their eyes. “Dad..” You groaned, feeling the dried blood on the side of your head.
“What happened?” He asked, running a thumb over your wound. You winced but didn’t complain as he made sure you were okay “The wolf…I think he took her.”
“Three versus one and you couldn’t stop him!” Uncle Dean shouted. He wasn’t just angry at Mick but you as well. “Dean, come on. That’s not fair.”
You ignored your Uncle. “We need to find her.” You tried to ignore the pain on the side of your head as you dragged yourself up, not accepting the help from your Dad.

“I put a tracker in her pocket.” Mick said.
“You planted a bug on her?!” Dad shouted in disbelief, making you flinch a little.
“You can kill me after we find Claire.”


Ready for a fight, you charged into the building. Dad went straight for the werewolf, tackling him to the floor. You followed Uncle Dean to where Claire was tied up, only as he reached for the rope you grabbed onto his jacket and tugged him back. “She’s turned!” You warned over the timpani of clatters. She growled, her sharp teeth and bright eyes revealing how there was no more Claire.
Despite her reins she broke free and lunged at the pair of you. Immediately, Uncle Dean stepped out in front of you and threw her against the cabinets behind. “Sorry, kid.” He apologised.

A blur appeared in your peripheral vision and you ducked just in time, parrying to the left before kicking the wolf away from you. You then leapt over to where a gun, fully loaded with silver bullets, was lying. You reached for it in a panic, cocking it and aiming. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

The shot rang out, followed by the wolf collapsing in front of you. You watched as it fell to the floor, the needle still sticking out of it’s neck.
You handed Mick his gun back without bothering to look at him. He took it before kneeling down next to the werewolf, taking out the needle to extract the blood.

“Move.” You warned him, watching as Claire began to waken.
He side-stepped away, joining your Dad and Uncle. “Is that thing ready?” Uncle Dean barked.
“Ready.” Mick handed it to him, stepping away once more.
Just as she fully regained consciousness she lunged at Dad, who blocked, allowing Uncle Dean to inject the blood.
She hunched over in agony before staring upwards, her eyes somehow even more yellow than before. Somewhere between a scream and a growl erupted from her throat before she collapsed.


You couldn’t bare this any longer. Minutes, that felt more like years, of watching as Claire shook and cried out and shifted and screamed. You tore your eyes away.
This couldn’t be happening. Not again.

“I need some air.” Uncle Dean mumbled then left the room.

You held your head in your hands, not wanting to watch any longer.

Her cries grew louder as she adjusted her position in a constant cycle. She growled and hissed and cried. She whined and groaned and jolted. She twisted and shouted and…

She fell still.

You glanced up, Dad managed a quiet “Claire?” before raising his voice “Dean.”

Uncle Dean walked back in, he noticed your pale face, your Dad’s blank stare and the silence. His eyes fell on Claire’s still body and his heart sank.

A small murmur made you properly look up. You watched in amazement as her sharp claws retracted and her body stirred. Claire’s eyes, her eyes, opened slowly. “You guys look like crap.”


The drive back to the Bunker was silent on your part. You half listened as the brothers upfront bickered about nonsense and lightly argued over small-talk. You didn’t wear headphones.
Your eyes followed the scenery outside back and forth along the roadside, but your mind was elsewhere.

You barely noticed that you’d made it home until the slam of Uncle Dean’s door dragged you back to reality. “You coming, kid?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘no’ you wanted to say, thinking about curling up into a ball and falling asleep there and then just to prove a point: “…Yeah.”

Part 17: Power

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