The boys grabbed a glass of water each a popped it onto Jon’s nightstand, getting ready for bed. It was really early, but the pair were knackered from the day.
“Where do you want me to sleep?”
“Well you can just sleep with me? I mean, we got like 7 people in this bed last night, I think it can take me and you without being too bad. Unless you don’t wanna I mean.”
“Nah its cool. You don’t mind me sleeping in my boxers though?”
“No man.” Jon shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, I sleep in mine too.”
Evan started to strip down as Jon went to the bathroom. He came back into find Evan lazily spread in bed, watching him.
“What? Waiting for me to undress are we you damn pervert?”
“Obviously.” Evan smirked, still not taking his eyes from Jon.
Jon slipped out of his clothing, it was kind of awkward the fact that he could still feel Evans eyes on him. A part of him wanted him to stop, but another part didn’t want him too. He felt like he needed to put on some kind of show.
Evan started to feel somewhat heated as Jon started with his top, showing his strong inked arm and defined back and ended with him pulling down his trousers. As he bent down Evan couldn’t help but think about the ass now in his face. It was a fine butt.
“Damn, that bootay though.” Evan exclaimed in his childish voice, leaning over to spank the unexpected Jon. Jon jumped back, frowning as he nearly split the trousers still around his ankles.
“Fuck off you bitch!”
“Or what? You gonna twerk me to death?”
“Don’t temp me!” Jon laughed, falling onto Evan who was still under the cover, wrestling him.
“You know I am stronger than you!” Evan cried, slamming Jon into the uncovered bed. Jon was laughing like a maniac as he got over excited and became giddy. He hadn’t felt like such a child in ages.
“Yeah, but I have legs for days!” Jon replied, wrapping the unsuspecting Evan in his legs and rolling him back around so he was sat on top of him.
“Yeah but-” Evan’s smirked, un-linking his hands from Jon’s. “I’m not ticklish.”
Shook formed on Jon’s face as he tried to wiggle away, but Evan had already got a firm grip on his wrist, his other hand making it’s way to Jon’s armpit.
“That’s not fair!” Jon cried before he exploded with laughter. “Stop Ev-”
“I’m going to die!” Jon was in tears, falling off of the bed as he tried to get away.
“Oh shit, are you alright?” But Evan already knew the answer. Jon was laughing hard and he laid on the floor, looking up at Evan. It was a high excitable laugh as he found himself in a fit of hysterics.
Evan smiled, watching Jon laugh was so endearing.
“I thought I was gonna damn die or somethin-”
Evans phone suddenly started to ring, cutting off Jon, causing the pair to jump .
Evan stared, stretching across to the nightstand to answer, with Jon watching him from the floor.
It was Georgia.
“Look, Evan, I’m really sorry about what I said, and I didn’t mean it and I just wanted to tell you so. Please forgive me.”
Evan paused, looking over towards Jon who’s eyes were piercing his flesh with worry planted on his pretty little face.
“G, I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t of ignored you for my friends. I mean, I still stand by what I said but, it’s not your fault. You’re a really sweet girl, and I’m sure you’ll find someone better.”
“G you know this isn’t going to work like it used too.”
“I know Evan, I just wanted to tell you that I was sorry for the whole thing, and to break up in a mature manner. I didn’t want us to leave on a bad note Ev. I really did love you. It was just we were falling apart already, and I think that made us crack.”
Evan could still feel eyes on him.
“Hey, look, it was amazing whilst it lasted. Have a good life. Night, night Georgie.”
The phone went dead, and so did Evans heart. The girl he had spent the last 2 years with had gone and was never coming back. He had seen them getting married, having children, having a life together but it was broken in just a few ‘night night’s to each other.
It was true that they had been on a bad road, hence why Georgia wanted to come with Evan on his trip.
Evan had been flirting with other people, and Georgia had been cheating on a few drunken nights out. They were as bad as each other.
Evan suddenly felt a hand on his back, twisting around his hip. It was going to be okay, Jon was here.
“You wanna talk about it?” Jon muttered, who had come from his laying position on the floor to sit next to Evan on the side of the bed.
Evan shrugged, he didn’t know what to say. He was heartbroken. It was enviable, but it still hurt knowing it was finally over.
Jon hummed lightly, he couldn’t let Evan go to bed now.
“Want me to go to the shop and get a fuck ton of ice-cream?”
Evan looked towards Jon, he didn’t want to cry, but he was anyway.
“Hey, I didn’t know you liked ice-cream that much!” Jon joked, pulling the misty eyed man into his arms. He felt him try and laugh at his joke for it to come out in sobs.
“It’s gonna be okay Ev.” He whispered, rubbing the circles into his back.
“That’s going to be the last goodbye I’ll ever give her.” Evan sobbed, rubbing his wet eyes onto Jon’s bare skin.
“I know, but that’ll mean you have a chance for another hello.” Jon stated, causing Evan to frown.
“That made more sense in my head.”
Evan smiled slightly, which was an achievement for Jon.
“Let’s get you some damn good ice cream.”
He felt bad when he left Evan tucked into his covers, on his laptop. He was scared he was going to do something stupid, like message her.
He was at the shop down the road, with a pair of sweatpants, trainers and a loss top on. He wished he had put some kind of jumper on though, as the air was nippy and the frozen isle gave him goosebumps.
He had told him he’d get a fuck ton of ice-cream, but after doing laundry today he had very little change so he grabbed Evan’s favourite favour, cookie dough, in the shitist brand name and paid.
Worried, he ran back towards his house, finding Evan to be searching up flats.
“I thought I was going to find you making yourself even more sad.” Jon said, handing Evan the tub and a spoon.
“Oh I love Little Pops own brand of ice-cream.” Evan said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
“Well I am a damn psycho- psychic or whatever its called.”
“Psychic.” Evan laughed, it was nice to see him laugh again.
“So what you doing?”
Evan hummed, shutting down the page.
“Not a lot, just getting prepared for uni.”
Jon nodded, feeling like he was going to lose Evan again.
Evan looked towards Jon who was now harbouring a sad expression.
“For what?” Jon said, masking the fact his heart was hurting behind a chipper voice. Evan wasn’t one to buy it though.
“For moving away and everything. For leaving you.”
Jon looked towards Evan, his expression now blank.
“It’s not your fault Ev, even though I joke that it is. It’s not. You were just following your dream, you were just doing what you love-”
“And leaving what I love. I could of stayed and everything would be better here-”
“Ev, this isn’t your responsibility. I’m not some sensitive bitch who needs ca-”
“But you are Jo. You needed me and I didn’t do anything. How can I be a good friend if I’m not here for you when you’re unhappy.”
“Your problem is that you’re too kind and caring.” Jon mumbled, keeping eye contact with Evan. “You care more about others than you do yourself. I’m the bad friend if I stop you from doing what you want to do just because I can’t learn to be independent.”
“Yeah but that’s not your fault-”
Jon exhaled harshly, cutting off Evan. His eyes trailed down the floor before wandering back up to Evan’s deep eyes. A light smile tinted his face.
“I’m too tired for this shit. Budge over.”
He began to undress again into his boxers with Evan giving him a confused frown, but didn’t push the matter. They were both tired and a full blown argument over what they believed was right without a right answer would be hell.
Jon lifted up the cover and darted under, snuggling up to Evan.
“Ah get away from me, you’re freezing!”
“Says the guy who’s eating ice-cream.” Jon pointed out.
Evan huffed, letting Jon’s cold body parts sit on his for warmth. They bare interaction felt nice as skin touched skin.
They sat there for a little while, watching music videos and gaming channels.
“For what?” Jon replied sleepily, his head propped up on Evans broad shoulder.
“For making me feel better, and for the ice cream and stuff. You know I do secretly appreciate it. Even if I don’t tell you-”
“I know.” Jon responded. “You’re my best friend, I’d do anything for you.”
Evan felt a bit teary again. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him. That they’d do anything for him.
Evan rested his head on the others and his arm reached around to meet Jon’s upper arm.
“You know I’d do anything for you too.”
“Like move all the way across the country for school? That kind of anything?” Jon whipped sarcastically.
“Oh, of course you’re going to hold it against me for the rest of my life. I see how it is.”
“Yeah, you’re going to have to make up for it big time mister man. I’m going to hold it against you the next time you ask me for ice-cream at 10 o’clock too.”
“Damn, that’s brutal.” Evan smirked, bringing the laptop lid down so they were engulfed in darkness.
They stayed silent, listening to one another’s breathing as they rested against each other.
Jon was the first to move, bringing their heads onto the pillows provided.
“Night Ev. Have a good sleep, and wake me up if ya feel bad.”
“Mhm, night Jo.”
Evan laid awake thinking for a little while, his body pressed up against Jon’s slimmer one. He was still a little bit cold.
Suddenly, Jon’s phone vibrated, the light blinking slightly.
Evan had been wrong to assume Jon was asleep when Jon reached out for it, reading the text.
He pressed it up to his ear in a whisper.
“Ma, it’s like midnight… okay, okay, no, pa didn’t come here. No, ma he hasn’t in a year. I know you’re sad, yes, mhmm. Can’t you two sort it out yourselves? I’m sleeping.”
Jon suddenly huffed, quietly getting out of bed. Evan heard him walk down the stairs and open a drawer.
“Ma we literally have like 20 dollars to live off. Yes, I counted all the money left in the stash too. Ma, pa is ages away. No, no you’re not going anywhere. Ma!”
Jon exhaled sharply. Throwing his phone harshly onto the counter when it buzzed as his mum ended the call.
Jon stood in silence for a second, watching himself frown in the reflection of the dark window. Why did he have to deal with his parents problems? It was theirs, not his. He hated it. It made feel bad when his mum would beg him to contact his dad, and how she missed him. At least he knew what missing someone felt like. That’s why it hurt him so much.
The thing that pissed him off the most was that they both knew that he couldn’t get in contact with dad, else she’d miss him more. Yet she kept putting him through the torture until he really didn’t care anymore.
He suddenly heard the stairs creak slightly, causing him to turn around.
Evan was stood there near the top, faintly embarrassed by the fact he had been caught.
“I was going to say something.” He encouraged. “But ya know, I didn’t know a good time to say it.”
“I didn’t realise you were up, did I wake you?”
“Nah man, I was awake anyway.” Evan reassured, now coming down the rest of the stairs.
Jon looked tired, worn and almost fragile as he stood in the dim light of the dying bulb. Evan had never really seen this side. The side of defeat, loneliness and the overall lack of confidence. It hurt to see him like this. Was this what he was like when Evan was away?
Evan walked over to him, bringing him into a massive bear hug.
Jon tucked his head into Evan’s neck. Holding tightly. He never wanted Evan to leave him ever again.
“Want me to get you a fuck ton of ice-cream?”
Jon laughed slightly, bringing his head back up to smile at Evan.
So usually when the Hawkes are presented as twins, they’re a purple and a blue hawke, or a purple and a red hawke. They’re so rarely (except in that one AMAZING picture set) a pair of purple Hawkes.
Can you imagine though?
Like young Leandra and Malcolm raising these adorable dark haired babies who are happy and giggling and become holy fucking terrors by the time they can walk. EVERYTHING is hilarious. Spitting out food and making shapes with it? Great. The way their parents just despair? Better yet. The sound their bare baby feet make when they run through the pig pens? Fantastic.
They never actually stop being holy terrors. When Leandra tries to teach Marian how to be more ladylike, and Garrett is like “Mari! Ser Malory fell in the market and he split his trousers” and Marian just RUNS, half-dressed, hair undone because she cannot miss this Mum, andraste’s tits!, but Garrett has soaked the ground outside the door so Marian slides in the mud and ruins her dress and her pretty hair.
Leandra is horrified, but Marian bursts out laughing because well played, brother.
Malcolm tries to teach Garrett control with his magic, in the safety of their home while Leandra and Marian are gardening, and Marian keeps pressing her face to the glass and making these awful faces and Garrett maaaaybe singes Malcolm’s beard because his control isn’t strong enough yet to magic and laugh at the same time.
Just the absolute despair of having two Hawkes who think they’re the funniest people in the room and think their twin is JUST as hilarious.
Carver’s grumpiness and Bethany’s sweetness must have seemed maker sent when Leandra had the younger twins.
Jennifer smirked and ate all the candy buttons in one mouthful. “This’ll be fun” She said and watched as her shirt began to suddenly strain and groan as it got tighter around her fat belly. “You might wanna move, these buttons could be deadly weapons” She teased and turned slightly away from J. Then with a snap and ping three buttons shot off her shirt at once, her belly spilling outwards. Then a tear was heard and her trousers split down her thighs and butt. “Oh look what you’ve done~ Why don’t you come get a closer look~” She beckoned her tubby boyfriend over.
~ Imagine where the reader is from Boston, and possesses the asshole attitude that catches Daryl’s attention, making him find it adorable. ~
- requested by Anon
“How many Walkers have you killed?” The man asked me, staring down at me, his hand on the handle of his gun, ready to yank it from his belt and plant a bullet in my skull. Rick his name is, he’s the leader apparently.
“Too many to remember…” I scoffed, “I don’t exactly keep count.” I heard a snigger from behind him. I spotted a man stood with another few people, he looked over at me with a slight smile. He was extremely rough-looking: over-grown hair falling around his face and into his eyes; dirty skin and ripped clothing, and a crossbow hanging on his back.
“How many people have you killed?” Rick proceeded to ask me, tightening his hold on his gun. I rolled my eyes at his defensive instinct to shoot me, holding back a chuckle as he awaited my answer.
“Three…” I shrugged. His eyes widened. He folded his arms, releasing his grip on his gun which allowed a sense of relief to wash over me. I shuffled on the ground, switching from seated to kneeling as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Anyone in this shit-heap of a world ever questioned you on who you’ve killed? Because I bet I know pretty damn well you’re no Virgin to the odd murder or two Rick,” I replied sarcastically. He didn’t seem too impressed as he put his hands on his hips and gave me a stern look. A look that says he means ‘business’. Does this guy think he’s scaring me or something?
“Just answer the question or I’ll add you to the list of people I’ve killed…”
“Oh! And then I’ll come back to haunt you and I’ll ask you the same dumb three questions you’ve just asked me.”
“Shut up and answer me! Why did you kill three people?”
“Because they tried to kill me! God damn, who knew this Walker crap was making people so touchy? I think you need to calm down Sir, you might bust those veins in your neck… Are they always this prominent? Or do they only go like this when you take a shit?!”
He suddenly grabbed me by the shoulder, yanking me up from the ground and throwing me towards his other group members. I crashed straight into the rough character, causing him to laugh and push me off of him as if this was a joke. The five people, including Rick, stared at me from all angles as if I was a bull in a colosseum. “What’s your problem man?!” I yelled at Rick. He pulled his knife from his belt and held it up to my face. The blade looked me in the eye like I was the world’s worst criminal, and I gulped at the thought of Rick using it on me.
“My problem…” Rick answered, “Is your attitude. Where’re you from anyway? You’re most certainly not from Georgia,”
“Boston. She’s from Boston,” the rough guy perked up. He placed his hands on the back of my shoulders and shook me, “Can’t you tell Rick?” He laughed, patting me on the back like an animal.
“How’d you know?” I asked, turning to look at him with a smirk plastered on my face. He raised a brow and exhaled quickly through his nose, showing his amusement through a sniffle, “Let me guess… It’s the -”
“Asshole attitude? The, 'I don’t give a fuck’façade? Yeah… Just screams Boston,” He cut me off, once again placing a hand on me, on my upper arm. He patted it, making me feel more like a canine than a human by the second, “What’s your name Sunshine?”
“It’s Y/N… And don’t ever call me Sunshine again,” I replied, kissing my teeth in annoyance as I turned to look at Rick, “So, am I eligible to be in your group? I can go stand over there if you need some time to confer…”
“Come on Rick, we need someone like her, someone who’s not afraid to say what they think. Plus, looking at the state of her now, we can’t let her go alone…” the rough guy said again, pointing at me. I looked down at my torn clothes, and bloody knees where my trousers had split. I had bruises all down my arms and my nails were practically black from all the dirt in them.
“Gee… Thanks!” I laughed, slapping him on the arm at his comment on my appearance. He looked at me and smirked, sending me a wink before grabbing Rick and the rest of their small entourage and taking them aside. I stood awkwardly, kicking at the gravel on the road as I listened to them whispering and muttering their decisions.
“Alright! Daryl here seems to think you’re perfect for our group,” Rick announced, walking over to me, “And I think we could use someone like you too…”
“Took you long enough to realise Rick…” I laughed. He nodded awkwardly, pressing his lips into a tight line before walking past me and towards the truck they came in.
“Michonne, Glenn, Maggie and myself will be riding in the truck. You’ll be going with Daryl,” Rick called over once again as the four of them piled into the truck, squeezing into the three seats in the front.
Daryl looked over to me and smiled, beckoning me over to him and his motorcycle, “I hope you’re not scared of motorcycles, because this is the only way you’re getting back sweetheart,” He joked, hoisting his leg over the seat.
“What’s with you and the pet names for me?” I asked, sitting on the back of it and shuffling to get comfortable, “You don’t look like the pet name type.”
“Oh no I’m not, I just like to wind you up…” He looked over his shoulder at me and smiled cockily, “Hold on tight, wouldn’t want you to go falling off and becoming roadkill now would we?”
I laughed sarcastically in response as I wrapped my arms around his waist, holding on tight as he revved the bike before driving off down the road. The truck followed behind us as we sped down the road to get back to their camp. I wonder if it’s just these guys or if there’s more? They spoke like they were a few of many so I guess we’re going somewhere filled with more people.
I rested my head against Daryl’s back, my ear pressed to his shoulder blade as we slowed down at a set of gates. The gate slid open and we cruised inside before coming to a stop, “Welcome to Alexandria.” Daryl smiled, helping me off the bike as I scanned my eyes around the whole place. This is way bigger than I expected, this is like a whole town!
“How’d you find this place?” I asked in awe, as we walked towards a house and sat on the stairs outside.
“Long story actually, cool place though I guess. Safe, equipped with supplies… You’ll be alright here. So, how’d you end up in Georgia during all this? Usually don’t see your type around here…”
“Well, clearly you can take the girl out of Boston but you can’t take the Boston of the girl… I was out here on vacation with some friends. They roped me into some road trip style thing, we hired an RV and thought we’d tour some places we’d never been to. It was all going fine until we got to Georgia and the whole Walker thing started. I lost my friends pretty quickly, I’ve been alone for a while.”
“Must’ve been tough out here on your own with no company, especially as you don’t know your way around properly,” I felt his hand on my shoulder and I relaxed into his touch, feeling comfortable next to him, “This whole situation ain’t exactly been the easiest for me either but I’m not one for sharing.”
“Yeah you don’t seem like the sort…” I laughed, looking down and fiddling with my hands. Daryl stood up suddenly and rested against the wooden pillar beside the stairs.
“You know back there, Rick was gonna let you go…” He explained. I looked up at him, titling my head slightly in confusion, “So I think I deserve some thanks.”
“I could’ve coped alone. I didn’t need you guys to bring me here, I would have been fine…” I shrugged, laughing along with my words.
“And that’s why I made sure you came with us!” He pointed at me, grinning victoriously as he jumped off the decking and walked over to his bike. He took out a cloth from under the seat and wiped at the handlebars, polishing the metal, “It’s your attitude, your sarcasm, your tough exterior. We could use it around here…”
“I’m flattered,” I joked, standing up and joining him. I crouched opposite him on the ground as he carefully wiped at his motorcycle, “I guess I do owe you a thank you…”
“Please, don’t strain yourself. A simple smile would do fine for me.”
“Daryl don’t be an ass!”
“Can’t help it,” We both laughed as he tossed the cloth back into its compartment and stood up. He leant against the bike and I stood with my arms folded, “But you’re welcome either way. Also, don’t ever let anyone turn you soft… And don’t lose the attitude, it’s pretty darn cute.”
He smiled before walking off, leaving me stood in the same place, wondering what he meant by 'cute’. Looks like I’ve made an impact on Alexandria’s tough guy…
This is long overdue but here it is finally! It’s not my best writing but I needed to post something! I hope you like it…
Alex splitting his trousers doing a slut drop and having to change (probably into trousers that weren’t his own….) MILES MILES MILES FUCKING KANE all the wonderful covers!!!!! (Moonage Daydream is a personal favourite) Miles’ beautiful robes Tambourine gate (alex you can’t keep breaking all these tambourines) Alex’s hair evolution mic sharing Alex starting any gig he could from a balcony like a dramatic motherfucker (bonus: in his hotel bathrobe) Miles’ backbends the (almost) kisses and hugs from behind Alex wearing a flower crown fucking cute fan selfies (and only stories about how polite and generous the guys are) Alex either dancing dramatically or just straight up lying on the floor after show acoustic sessions Alex stealing a girl’s sunglasses the pair taking (and wearing) a banner (and reportedly not returning it) (is it hanging up in their tour bus now i hope so) “i’ll give you the D” “i wish you would” alex getting on the amp and not being able to get down without help incredible lighting (and miracle aligner petals at Alexandra Palace)
just everything beautiful and good, it’s been a fantastic time and my heart hurts
Summary:You and your neighbour Ashton never really got along until he decided to change that, making you two the most unlikely set of best friends. Both of you are dancing on the edge of desire but the question is, who will slip first?
Word Count: 2.8K
He thought that she’d never come near him again after the way it ended up last time. He was convinced that she’d regretted it and had moved on from it all, but obviously she hadn’t. She was standing in front of him, her body pressed against his and her hand around his wrist. Her eyes were heavy as she looked up to his lips, involuntary licking her own. She was so tempting but he’d wanted to do it right this time. Why can’t she just play by his rules for a change?! He was going to slowly ease into this, not just get naked straight away. Although, he couldn’t deny that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. Ever since they spent the night together images of her would just flash into his head from time to time.
His restraint was starting to crumble the closer she got. He was always holding back on her, giving her the space that she needed to trust him again because even if she was drunk he knew that she needed time. He knew that he’d hurt her last time and he didn’t want to scare her off but damn, she was so tempting. She was leaning in, closing the distance between their lips, her intentions were clear and he was going to make it worth it and give her what she wanted. He dived in first, tangling his fingers in her hair as he pulled her closer. He relished in the soft taste of her lips, humming in appreciation when her tongue slipped past his lips. She was going full steam ahead, her fingers scrambling to pull his shirt from his trousers. For a split second he thought about stopping it here but his head was so fuzzy that he didn’t know where the line was any more. Before he could think about it further she popped the button on his trousers and all of the reservations he had just melted away.
Behind the Scenes of The Fires of Pompeii (Part Three)
Excerpts from Benjamin Cook’s coverage (as featured in Doctor Who magazine) on filming in Italy:
[filming as everyone flees Vesuvius] On the take, Dan [Mumford, first assistant director] yells at the Italian extras, “Don’t look at us! Look up in the air! Higher! Why are you smiling?” An Italian Third Assistant translates for the extras, who run, shout, and panic as Pompeii burns. “Tell ‘em! Embrace it! The mountain is bleeding.”
Catherine stumbles as she runs, but keeps going until the end of the take. “Have you hurt yourself?” exclaims David.
“I was trying not to step on the chickens,” she says, wincing slightly.
The ‘Addetto Gestione Emergenze’ man springs into action, and administers an icepack to her ankle. “Can I have a chair for Catherine?” calls out Dan. “And can we keep the icepack on in between takes?”
[…] It’s half-past-four in the morning. The final scene of this epic night shoot is of David and Francois breaking into Lucius’ quarters, clambering onto a barrel to get in through the window. “We’ve got to bolt the barrel to the wall,” explains Dan, much to the director’s chagrin. “We don’t want anyone hurt.”
Colin [Teague, director] groans. “I know we’re in the world of health and safety, but also I’m in the world of making it look good. I don’t want it to look contrived. Can’t we find a barrel that’s sturdy enough?”
The stuntman, Tom Lucy, gives a demonstration of how to climb through a window, with the sturdiest barrel that he can find. It caves in, leaving him stood in it up to his waist. “That’s made my night,” hoots David. “Oh, that’s hilarious.”
The barrel is bolted to the wall. On take one, David bangs his head on the window frame. On take two, he splits his trousers. He’s not laughing now. It’s got to be karma. “Thank God we brought a second pair,” sighs Louise.
Other Pompeii Behind-the-Scenes posts: [ one ] [ two ]
[ four ]
Other Doctor Who behind-the-scenes posts can be found [ here ]
David Tennant Appreciation Week 2016 (theme: Behind the scenes)
Anyone else notice how similar Rey and Kylo’s costumes are? They are both wearing trousers beneath long split fabric, and both have belts in the same place across their torso. Rey’s costume is literally the light, feminine version of Kylo’s. Two halves of the same whole. The dark side, and the light.
Imagine accidentally splitting your trousers in front of the Winchesters...
You leaned over the car to look in the boot and heard the dreaded sound of ripping fabric, followed by a slight cool breeze where there hadn’t been before.
“Crap.” You mumbled as you stood bolt upright and your hand flew to the area in question. Sure enough, there felt like there was a hole perfectly along the seam and about 2 inches long.
“Starting a new fashion?” You could hear Dean’s smirk through his voice before you even turned around.
“Shut up!” You groaned. “How noticeable?”
“Well I can see the colour of your panties, lace too, right?” He said breaking into a bigger grin.
You groaned and went to make a move to give him a playful push, but the sound of another few stitches splitting stopped you in your tracks. You desperately tried to think of where you might have some spare clothes, you didn’t even have an over shirt on to be able to tie around your waist.
“Dean, come on, be nice!” Sam said giving Dean a warning look and at least trying to conceal his smirk.