#a good ol bitch n' stitch night

[dodo-begone]

Fear for my Lover

Pairing: DSMP!Quackity x Reader

Word count: 2.9k

Warning: Blood, stitches, bruises, injuries, cursing, frontier first aid (sorry if i missed something)

Summary: Life had been busy lately. Very busy. The night was peaceful and you were more than happy to take advantage of the quiet. Even with Quackity there with you. Fate had other plans though and absolutely ruined what would've been an amazing night.

A/n: i,,, this was meant to be SHORT but also- haha i got 2-3 more parts planned brrrrrr. Also used a dialogue prompt thingy for this- you'll see them in there. They're highlighted.

You thought nothing of it when Quackity said that he was going out. Beforehand he told you that he might have to stay late to do some work. You weren’t sure if he had finished or not, but his departure only confirmed the thought that no, he had not finished business.

With a sigh, you walk over to the couch and flop onto it. The exhaustion from the many months of constant work was catching up. You missed how life was before. Even when you were stuck under Schlatt’s rule on Manberg. Yes, it was quite tedious and annoying, but you weren’t completely rebuilding a nation from the ground up along with its citizens.

The physical work of building was tiresome, but something relaxation and a few nights of rest could easily reverse the effects. Though the mental strain was a completely different story. All of the paperwork was tedious and could keep you up at night just because you need to get one more paper done before dawn. Or just knowing that you aren’t able to help everyone in the new L’manberg. So many had given up hope, were tired of the vicious cycle that they had been caught in. It may not have been going on long, but it still had its effect on everyone all the same.

So much work and so little recreational time. There was little time to care for oneself with so much work on their plate. Let alone spend time with your loved ones. Even if they lived in the same house as you. It felt alienating when you weren’t able to even have a small conversation with your significant other.

Your thoughts were deafeningly loud. Sometimes even covering each other when they brought up memories of anxieties of the past and future. That’s why it was rather surprising when the entire L’manberg cabinet ran through your front door in a frenzy. Jumping off of the couch, you try to survey the situation. What in Pime’s name could be going on?

Their hysterical cacophony of voices were all that reached your ears. You didn’t even need to hear their words when you saw Quackity’s limp body in Fundy’s arms.

Without a second thought, you push your way over to Fundy and Quackity, quickly searching him for injuries. Well, the injuries part was pretty obvious with all of the blood. But the extent of the injuries were another story. What could be going on? How bad was it? Oh Prime, why was there so much blood?

In the frenzy you must’ve said something because something happened. One moment you are near the entrance with your beloved in the arms of his co-worker and the next you’re tending to his wounds in your shared bed. Nobody else was in the room. It was just you and Quackity. Your Quackity. And a bowl of water and a small stack of wash clothes and towels.

Your hands quacked from both worry and the sobs you were desperately holding back. Something was stabbing the interior of your throat as it closed from the overwhelming emotions that filled your body.

What terrified you was that Quackity wasn’t completely unconscious. He definitely wasn’t completely there but he was still awake and babbling. More muttering because of how frail and faint his voice was, but it was still a bunch of nonsense. How you wished to know what he was saying, what he was thinking. Now wasn’t the time, but you feared that if you didn’t know now that he’d never tell you. Shit hit the fan and he came back like this. Either his pride or his desire to “protect” you would keep him from spilling the tea. This was your only chance.

All you were able to do was open your mouth before Quackity was making this harder. He was extremely weak from the blood loss and you were in a race against time to stop the river of blood that just seemed to flow freely from his wounds. You had been holding his bigger wounds tightly, trying to put as much pressure as you could to slow the blood loss or stop it completely. Each attempt to settle Quackity only leads to him resisting more, weakly fighting you to get up. Soon his behavior had gone on for too long, in your humble opinion, and he was still as stubborn as he was in the beginning.

With what little common sense you had left in your nearly hysterical state, you tried to reason with him. “Quackity,” you pleaded, still trying to gently push him back onto the bed so he was laying. “Please lay down, Duckie. It’s for your own good. Just let me bandage you up and I’ll leave you alone. Okay?”

From an outsider’s perspective, the attempt was silly. It really wouldn’t have gotten much of a reaction from your confused lover. And yet you still tried anyway, hoping that anything would help at this point. You were desperate.

His silence spoke volumes. In some stroke of luck, Quackity heard your words. That or he became too tired to fight and “speak”. Either way, you were taking what you could get. It was a victory and your goal was reached. Without much, if any fight at all, you managed to get Quackity back into bed and went back to patching up his wounds.

They were much worse than you hoped. Your wish that it was a smaller wound with a ton of blood oozing out was swiftly dashed when you started to clean up the blood from its source. Well, more accurately from anywhere and cleaning until you found the source. Although a bad idea, you had patched up his smaller, easy to access wounds. Though you couldn’t dodge the challenge that stood before you, glaring at you from Quackity’s face.

Petechiae, scratches, and bruises also decorated his face in a hideous manner. The centerpiece of it all was a large scar that traveled from his lip to his eye, all on the left side, was the most obvious wound. The others could heal on their own, but that cut, could you even call it a cut, was in dire need of assistance. It was probably already infected and trying to heal itself. But it was too big, too wide to heal naturally. Intervention was needed and it was needed stat!

Blankly you stare at his face, mind running a mile a minute trying to think of remedies and solutions. Sadly there weren’t many options available. Ponk was too far away to call for his medical expertise, not even considering how late it was. Would he even still be awake? Let alone awake enough to do stitches? You could wait till morning but who knows what condition Quackity would be in at dawn. Something had to be done and it had to be done now. Only one plausible solution remained and it definitely wasn’t pleasant.

Swiftly you leave Quackity, moving out of the room as quickly as you could. Quackity tried to reach out to you but just missed your sleeve. Though you didn’t notice or know. You had things to get done and to get them done you needed equipment. Desperately you search around the house, pulling out anything you’d need. More clean towels, a bowl of clean water since the one you had been using was more than dirtied and the towels absolutely soiled. Placing them half-hazardly on a flat surface, you scurried around to find the other necessary equipment. After having to catch your sewing tin and lighter from falling a few times, you grab everything you previously gathered and make your treacherous journey back to Quackity.

When you return, he’s once again sitting up in bed. Weakly, mind you, as he fell back onto the mattress at the sight of you. You wished to scold him for going against what you asked of him, but it didn’t matter now. With no time to waste, you dump your supplies onto the nightstand and fumble around, trying to get everything prepared.

As nimbly as your shaky hands could spare, you set up your thread and needle as if you were going to start sewing a gorgeous design into a quilt. You stared at the bowl of water you had, debating whether or not to use your sad little lighter to heat up that big ole bowl… it’s better if you didn’t. Other than being faster, how much better would it be for sanitizing the needle? It’d take ages to get the water boiling and even then it might not be enough. A flame straight out of a lighter? Seemed better. It got the job done quicker and would be warmer than the boiling water so it was going to kill more bacteria and germ than the boiling water. That’s what you hoped, at least. This is why you aren’t a medic.

Shakily, you ignite the lighter and hold the needle to the flame, slowly rotating it to equally distribute the heat. As tedious and anxiety inducing as it was, it would be worth it in the end. The stitch is only temporary until you can get Ponk to come over, hopefully by early tomorrow. Or later today? What time even was it- Snap out of it! This isn’t the time to be doing this!

You didn’t know how hot the needle had to be to be considered “sanitized” but you had waited long enough. At least that’s what it felt like. Plus the part of the needle you’re holding is getting pretty hot.

When you go in for the first suture, the hiss of pain before you even punctured the skin was a good indicator to you. Not that he was awake enough to still be actively feeling things, but to be able to vocally express his pain and that the needle was hot enough to probably kill most bacteria and germs if it hurt to touch. Hesitation is making you its bitch, holding you still and making you contemplate if what you’re doing is right. Of course what you’re doing is right. It has to be. It’s one of the best and only options you have.

Before you did anything else, you grabbed one of the towels and rolled it up. Gently you pried his mouth open and placed it in like a gag. He wasn’t going to be able to grip much and he’d be grinding his teeth together from pain. Previous experience with stitches and similar frontier medical procedures has taught you one thing; having a gag to bite on helps every part. The patient gets a way to release their pain and the “doctor” is less likely to be hurt by the patient since the patient will have something else to focus on hurting. It doesn’t work entirely but it’s better than hearing the unmuffled screams of agony and feels better to have something to grip onto as hard as you can.

After getting him situated, you position yourself again. With a deep breath, you start off the first suture. Quackity’s muffled scream was heartbreaking yet shocking. Even with you expecting it, it still spooked you a bit. But everything was okay. This was for the best. And then you continued on. Slowly you added stitch after stitch after stitch until you thought you did enough. Really it was a combination of “this is adequate” and “i’m too anxious to keep going because what if i mess up”. Without anesthetics, it was just horrific for both parties to go through with this endeavor. He was moving around so much, trying to twist and turn away from the pain being done to him. His movements were so often and large enough to make you nervous about going near his eyes. What if you poked it out? Or made him blind?

Looking back at the stitches and what they held together, it was obvious that his eyesight was going to be impaired from now on. His eyes were looking completely different from each other now. The regular on the right and the horrific product of whatever he did on his left. A white film covered his eyes like a snow blanket. He was now blind in that eye or going blind.

Realistically, he was going blind but you still held out for the unrealistic hope that he’d be almost entirely okay afterwards. You knew it was unrealistic, but you still hoped.

You Quackity didn’t deserve this.

Once you have cleaned up the mess you made, you start to pack everything up. Needle in the bowl to be cleaned, remaining threat back into the tin, bowls moved away from where they’d get bumped and dumped. Slowly and methodically you finish your tasks. The adrenaline of the night is slowly leaving your body and exhaustion is once again taking hold of you. Oh how you hated that. Absolutely despised the feeling.

After everything was to your liking, you go to check on Quackity again before you leave to give and get some silent rest for the two of you. It’s the least you could do for him after all of this.

He seemed comfortable after everything, peaceful in fact. It was such a calming sight and it eased your guilt of hurting him. Everything you did was for the greater good, you mentally remind yourself. It was to help prevent further infection and it was only temporary. Until you could get proper help for him.

Without much thought, you sit by the bed and lay your head upon it. So much blood got onto the blankets and the sheets. You’d need to clean that quickly. After Quackity gets help and is moved or can be moved, that is. Which would hopefully be tomorrow. Slowly you start to doze off. Or was it zoning out? Either or you were slowly calming down further. To the point where you almost fell asleep.

Jolting awake, you begrudgingly haul yourself off the floor and start your long and tiring journey to the living room. The couch was comfier than the floor, after all. No matter how much you wanted to sleep by Quackity.

Your dawdling is stopped by something on your sleeve. At first you think your sleeve got caught on something so you tug in hopes of being untangled from said object. Nothing happens so you just tug harder. But still nothing happens. Eventually your little tug of war becomes too annoying and has been prolonged enough. You whirl around to see what in Prime’s name you could be caught on.

Low and behold it was the man of the hour, surprisingly. Quackity had grabbed onto your sleeve and just held you there. Confused, you walk back to the bed and sit, holding his face and inspecting for any new signs of pain. Anything that would show that he was feeling something different, something worse. You hoped that he wasn’t feeling like that, but it was a naive hope. Wounds were not an unfamiliar concept to you and yet you’d always hope for such fantastical things to the point where it was odd.

In return for you holding his face, he went to gently hold yours. A soft smile makes an appearance upon your face after the action.

“How’re you feeling, Ducking,” you whisper. Silence once again makes its presence known and it’s very loud and obnoxious about it. “Sorry. I know you’re in a lot of pain. That was stupid of me to ask.”

Quackity chuckles at your slip up and you’re more than happy to join him. Slowly your chuckling drowned out by the silence that had obnoxiously told you how wrong you were to ask your beloved if he was in pain when it was more than obvious that he was, indeed, in pain. You take a deep breath and release a sigh.

“You need to sleep. It’ll help with the healing and hopefully with the pain until tomorrow. I plan on calling Ponk to do some actual doctor shit on you because Prime knows how amazing my skills are.” Once again you attempt to leave Quackity to sleep, but stopped by his grip on your sleeve.

“Please,” he rasped. God his voice was so hoarse after everything. You felt terrible as you were part of the cause and yet you couldn’t do anything nor bring yourself to feel too bad. It was all for the greater good, after all. For his health.

“Please what?”

“Please stay with me,” he begged, looking straight into your eyes with his only working one. The sight was pitiful. Such a prideful man who could do so much left in such a weakened state. You hated seeing him like this. Nobody liked seeing their loved ones in a position like that. And how could you deny him that request, especially with what he went through tonight. You still didn’t know what it was but the aftermath was horrific enough to give a small clue as to what happened.

“Of course,” you reply, smiling warmly and climbing into bed with him. The moment you’re under the blankets and sheets, he gently pulls you into a hug. For his or your sake, you’re unsure. You hope that it’s his though. “Anything for my Duckie.”

#dsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #quackity x reader #dsmp!quackity x reader #dsmp shipping #dsmp!quackity #mcyt shipping #x reader #tw: gore #tw: injury #tw: violence #tw: bruises #tw: injuries #tw: cursing #tw: frontier first aid #c: quackity #dodo writing

[lyricalimerence]

Unexpected - JJ Maybank

word count: 1378

summary: basically reader's heart has been stomped on and jj makes her laugh. a good ole kook-pogue friendship blossoming.

warnings: drinking, swearing, sadness, and friendship fluff

a/n: this was the first little imagine thing-a-ma-bob i ever wrote and i loved the idea but hated the way i wrote it so i rewrote it and i kinda think it's not too bad rn? but it's also like eleven pm and i've been listening to sad music so i'm not trustworthy. ly all! mwah.

JJ Maybank took a late night boat ride on the HMS Pogue, subconsciously taking a slow drift as he passed the bank a few yards away from the country club where the annual Midsummers party was being held for the Island Club. He was all alone and couldn't stand to go back to his father, so he thought that maybe he could pick up the Pogues afterwards. Pope had to help his father with the oysters, Kiara was being forced to go again, and John B was invited by Sarah because Ward Cameron was being crowned Guardian of the Knights of the Rhododendron for the second year in a row.

What he hadn't expected was the fairy lights illuminating the patio of the country club and the moonlight to work together, making a disco out of a girl's sequined dress. She slouched on a picnic bench by the bank, facing the party with an unreadable emotion. Maybe it was just unreadable because JJ could only see her back.

A small rectangular light came from directly in front of the girl—she just turned her smartphone on. The reflecting light shone on a water bottle that was placed on the wooden table that was probably pushing small splinters into the girl's elbows, forearms, calves. He smiled at the stickers adorning the tall water bottle as the girl fiddled with the carrying strap. It reminded him of Kiara, his friend that was so vocal of her opinions that she placed stickers, pins, and patches all over her belongings.

Another gleam from the table caught his eye, shining off the second thing he hadn't expected: the unmistakable china plate of the Island Club, swirls of gold foil and painted flowers embellishing the edges. What was a girl in a fancy dress doing eating off of island club plates a quarter mile away from the party?

JJ took a leap of faith, deciding he didn't want to be alone and neither did she—even if she didn't know she wanted company yet. He was soon introduced to the third thing he hadn't expected. The girl sitting there, by herself, fidgeting with her water bottle and eating peas, pea by pea, skewering each one on a prong of her fork individually, was the grandest Kook Princess of them all.

Y/N Y/L/N was sitting in front of him, anxiously squirming as she ragefully ate her peas, a fire in her averted eyes that he'd never seen before. He assumed she hated him, just by nature, but she never acted on that hate if it was even there. She peeked back up, expecting to feast her eyes on the county club once more, but got a face full of JJ Maybank instead. It wasn't a particularly bad view.

"Am I disrupting your view, Princess?" JJ asked, picking up a pea from her plate and popping it in his mouth. He had no idea why he didn't just slide himself off the bench before she noticed him, but he didn't.

She shrugged her shoulders, the fury captured in her irises melting to sadness at the nickname. JJ quickly looked over his shoulder at the Kooks dancing and laughing under the lights. He whispered, "What are we looking at?"

Y/N jutted put her chin slightly, "Bag check." Her voice cracked lightly on the stressed vowels.

"Waiting for Mommy and Daddy to come take you home in their Mercedes-Benz?" JJ asked teasingly. He watched the sadness in her eyes change to exhaustion. Exhaustion that everyone thought she was a stick-up-the-ass trust fund baby that had no emotional range.

JJ saw it, bowing his head slightly in an unspoken apology. He glanced over his shoulder to see a couple macking in the separate outside area for bag check. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see what had gotten Y/N so emotional. He realized that the couple was some girl and Rafe Cameron, Y/N's boyfriend. "Is that—"

"Yep." Y/N said, her ribcage shaking as she took a sharp breath, rapping her knuckles against the splintering picnic table.

"I'm sorry," JJ said, starting to grow into the rage that Y/N had been feeling before he slid onto the bench in front of her.

"You don't have to be sorry. You didn't cheat on me." She said, handing an extra fork that was on the table to JJ, who had continuously been eating peas with his hands.

"I know I just—are you okay?" JJ asked through a mouthful of green veg now that he was given an eating utensil.

"Uh, I don't know. I told him I loved him and he said it back. An hour and a half ago." Y/N said blankly, pushing the food on plate closer to where JJ was, farther away from her.

"I don't understand." said JJ, his eyebrows stitching together in contemplation. If Rafe told Y/N he loved her, why was he now macking on another girl?

"Yeah, well, I'm currently president of that company so get in line, Bub." She replied, taking a swig from her water bottle. By the cough she elicited, JJ assumed that whatever was on the bottle was not water, and Y/N actually handled her alcohol rather well.

"What happened?" He asked, pulling her attention away from bag check and back to him. She looked at him and chuckled wryly, shaking her head slightly. "I'm serious! You'll feel better."

"It's a doozy." Y/N rubbed her arms from the breeze blowing by them off the water.

JJ motioned with his hand for her to proceed and she launched into the story, barely taking a breath as she simply rambled about the encounter.

"We were kissing and I just said it. I was nervous because I had never said it before, but I was certain about it. He kinda blinked at me, and I told him that he didn't have to say it back, but he just grinned and said it. No second thoughts, no hesitations. I believed him because I meant it.

"I said I was gonna get drinks and we could watch the sunset because it looked like it would be a really beautiful one, so I grabbed them quickly. He wasn't there when I got back so I kind of ran through the country club. I definitely looked like an alcoholic, nervous, jumpy, totally bug-eyed," she paused to pull her eyelids open, making her eyes pop out, causing JJ laugh.

"And I was double fisting. I rounded the corner to bag check and there they were, just swallowing each other's tongues. I kinda stood there for a moment, soaking it in. I was frozen. But then the girl, this complete and utter bitc—actually she's quite lovely, her name's Veronica—giggled and told him she loved him. And that son of a fucking bitch said it back."

"That's—yeah. That's rough."

"Yeah. So now i'm here, vomiting my feelings out to the one and only JJ Maybank."

"What's weirder, the emotion vomiting or me?"

"100% you, have you seen that face?"

"What's wrong with my face?"

"Nothing per se—" Y/N suddenly stopped and belched, taking JJ completely aback, but he thought it was absolutely hilarious that the Kook Princess could belch to his level. She looked up sheepishly as JJ cackled into the night sky, "So maybe I did down both of those drinks."

JJ couldn't stop laughing at her, such a pristine person who he'd never thought would willing talk to him is now camping outside of a party with him. Watching JJ double over with laughter, banging on the picnic table as hiccups started busting through his laughing fit, Y/N giggled at first. Then she fell into a complete fit of mirth with JJ, her melodious laugh traveling up towards the club, up towards Rafe.

Rafe turned towards the sound, the sound he grew to love over the eighteen years of being Y/N's best friend and eventual boyfriend. His heart tightened when he saw her almost rolling off the picnic bench as tears of happiness fell from her cheeks, JJ matching her degree of laughter exactly on the other side of the table. He couldn't do anything about it now. He had made his choice, forcing Y/N into hers.

#jj #jj maybank #obx #outer banks #rudy pankow #jj maybank x reader #outer banks icons #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #jj obx #obx jj maybank #obx jj #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine

[winchesterbrotherstan]

Supernatural- Hell House (1.17)

ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ... ᴮᵃᴮʸ ,,, i’m SOFT

Pairing: N/A, Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: John’s gone, and the siblings are itching for a hunt. They call on the Richmonds for an extra hand. Sam and Dean start their own war, and Olive is left in the middle once more. Things are not what they seem.

Warnings: cursing, blood, bloody mouth, mentions of suicide, murder, gross old man flirting, etc

Word Count: 10,100

“What are you doing?” I asked Dean through a yawn.

I had fallen asleep on his arm the minute we hit the road, but now he was reaching for something, and it had woken me up. Jinx shuffled around in the backseat.

“Shh. Go back to sleep.” He kept his eyes on the road as he dug around in the backseat.

I let my eyes fall shut as I leaned back into his side. The Daeva had left a nasty gash on my thigh, one that we wouldn’t be able to explain to a doctor. Dean stitched me up, which was fine because I trusted him with my life, but it hurt like a bitch the whole time. Sam had to take Jinx out for a walk because she wouldn’t stop crying.

“Do you reach my phone?” Dean whispered.

I huffed as I dug through his jacket pocket and flipped his phone open. He took it, aimed it at Sam, and snapped a picture. I groaned at the noise and looked up to see Sam asleep with a plastic spoon hanging out of his mouth. Dean tossed his phone in my lap before blaring the music and singing along. Jinx let out a bark.

“De!” I whined, covering my ears.

I had been feeling weak and cranky for the last week. Sam shot up at my voice, or the thump of the bass, and spit the spoon out of his mouth. It landed on my knee and I swatted at it, letting it fall to the floor. Dean grinned as Sam leaned forward and turned the music down.

“Sorry, bug. Didn’t mean to spit it out on your knee.” He cooed as he put his arm up, inviting me to curl up against him.

I only grunted as I leaned over and pulled my feet up onto the seat, making a deliberate effort to hit Dean’s knee with my toes.

“Haha, very funny.” Sam glared at him.

He chuckled, ignoring my prodding. “Sorry. Not a lot of scenery here in East Texas, kinda gotta make your own.”

“Man, we’re not kids anymore, Dean. We’re not gonna start this shit again.”

“What shit?” Dean asked.

“The prank stuff. It’s stupid, and it always escalates.”

“Aww, what’s the matter, Sammy? Scared you’re gonna get a little Nair in your shampoo again?” Dean teased.

“Alright.” Sam shrugged. “Just remember, you started it.”

Dean snorted. “Bring it on, baldy.”

“Please, no.” I fussed. “I always get caught in the middle of your stupid prank wars.”

“Swear we’ll leave Olive out of it.” Sam put a pinky up, and Dean side-eyed him.

“Do I look like I’m gonna pinky promise you anything?”

I shoved my pinky into his face, coming dangerously close to his eye.

“Fucking pinky promise to leave me out of it, you prick.”

Dean scoffed as he hooked his pinky around mine. “Fine, fine.”

“Where are we anyways?” Sam asked with a yawn.

“A few hours outside Richardson. We’ll stop in a bit to let Jinx use the bathroom. Gimme the lowdown again?” Dean glanced between us and the road.

“Uh, hold on.” Sam took his arm back and sat up straight, digging through his bag. “Alright, about a month ago this group of kids goes poking around in this local haunted house.”

“Haunted by what?”

“Apparently, a pretty misogynistic spirit. Legend says it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters.” Sam explained.

“Right, which is why we called on the Richmonds. Hunter will be our temporary Olive.” Dean spoke, then faked a gag. “God, I hate the sound of that.”

I rolled my eyes and leaned back into my seat. “Why can’t we just do this like any other job? Why’d we have to bring the Richmonds along?”

Dean eyed me. “Relax, short-stuff.”

“We’re not letting you walk into a death-trap, Ol.”

I snorted. “Oh, please, Sam. We’re hunters. You do realize we walk into death-traps for a living, right?”

Sam and Dean shared a look over my head. Dean said nothing, and Sam huffed.

“Anyways, this group of kids sees this dead girl hanging in the cellar.”

“Anybody ID the corpse?”

“Well, that’s the thing. By the time the cops got there the body was gone. So cops are saying the kids were just yanking chains.”

I yawned. “Maybe the cops are right. High school kids are fucking idiots.”

“Ollie, you are a high school kid.”

“No, I’m a hunter who happens to be high school kid aged. There’s a difference.”

“Either way, I read a couple of the kids first hand accounts. They seemed pretty sincere.”

“Where’d you read these accounts?” Dean asked, skeptical.

Sam cleared his throat and looked out the window, his tell of embarrassment. I giggled. He must’ve gone onto some pretty stupid websites.

“Well, I knew we were gonna be passing through Texas, so um… last night, I might’ve surged some local… paranormal websites.” He pushed out quickly before clearing his throat again. “And I found one.”

“Uh huh.” Dean looked over with a face that read ‘that’s ridiculous!!’.

I snorted. “And what’s it called?”

“Hellhounds lair dot com.”

“Oh, lemme guess, streaming live out of Mom’s basement.”

Sam cracked a grin. “Yeah, probably.”

“Yeah.” Dean sighed. “Most of those websites wouldn’t know a ghost if it bit them in the persqueeter.”

I giggled, and Sam groaned.

“Ah, grow up, Ol.”

“Oh, come on, Sams, it’s a funny word.”

Sam shook his head with a sigh. “Look. We let Dad take off, which was a mistake by the way, and know we don’t know where the hell he is. So, meantime, we’ve gotta find ourselves something to hunt. There’s no harm in checking this out.”

“Right, right, except that if Olive steps foot in the house she’ll probably die.”

I rolled my eyes again before turning to Sam. “Where do we find these kids?”

“Same place you always find kids in a town like this.”

                                                            ***

“If she blocks me in, I swear to god.” Dean grumbled as Everett pulled in next to us.

She parked so close that Dean couldn’t open his door. He cursed under his breath, and Sam rolled his eyes as he opened the passenger door. I turned around and smiled at Jinx.

“We’ll be right back, girly.”

“Make sure you leave the windows down for her.” Sam reminded us.

“Alright, come on, De.” I tugged on his sleeve.

“Total bullshit.” He mumbled under his breath.

“I know, I know.” I climbed out through Sam’s side. “You coming?”

He let out a sigh as he climbed out, fixing his jacket.

“You really need to learn how to park, Winchester.”

“Bite me.” Dean spat.

“Alright, alright. Come on.” Sutton pulled her sister along.

Hunter stifled a yawn as he climbed out of their car, pulling a hoodie on. 

“Nice dog.”

“Name’s Jinx.” I latched onto Sam’s hand and yawned, too.

“So how are we handling this?” Sutton asked.

“Reporters.” Dean called over his shoulder. “Come on.”

                                                           ***

“It was the scariest thing I ever saw in my life, I swear to God.” The boy sitting outside tells Sam and Dean.

Dean tries hard not to roll his eyes. He focuses on Jinx instead, who had barked so loud they had to take her out of the car. The little dog is on her side, head on Dean’s shoe. He smiles as she looks up at him and wags her tail.

“From the moment we walked in, the walls were painted black.” The second boy speaks to Everett and Sutton through the serving window.

“Red.” The first boy says.

“I think it was blood!” The girl hisses at Hunter and Olive, who are sitting inside with her.

“All these freaky symbols.” The first boy shudders.

“Crosses and stars.” The boy at the serving window shakes his head.

“Pentecostals.” The boy outside says, and Sam and Dean share a look. Even Jinx tilts her head.

“Whatever, I had my eyes closed the whole time.” The girl smacks her gum.

“But I can damn sure tell you this much. No matter what anybody else says…”

“That poor girl.”

“With the black-”

“Blonde-”

“Red hair, just hanging there.”

“Kicking.”

“Without even moving!”

“She was real.” The girl reassures. Hunter and Olive sigh at each other.

“One hundred percent.” The boy nods at Dean vigorously.

“And kinda hot. Well, you know, in a dead sorta way.” The second boy smirks. Everett and Sutton look at each other, eyebrows shot up high.

“And… how’d you find out about this place anyway?” Sam, Sutton, and Olive ask.

“Craig.”

                                                           ***

“Just stay separate.” Dean snapped at Everett.

“Relax, jackass.” I hissed as we stepped into the shop.

“Fellas.” The guy at the counter looked up. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Yeah, are you Craig Thursten?” Sam asked.

“I am.” He looked hesitant.

“We’re reporters with the Dallas Morning News. I’m Olive, this is Sam and Dean.” I smiled.

“No way.” He looked me up and down, and I cringed.

He was definitely Dean’s age, if not older. I could physically feel Dean struggling not to take a step forward and shove me behind him.

“Well, I’m a writer too. I write for my school’s lit magazine.”

“Well, good for you, Morrissey.” Dean hissed.

The bell rang, and I turned to see the Richmonds walking in.

“Oh, excuse me.” Craig sauntered to the edge of the counter, eyes honing in on Sutton.

Dean pulled me to stand between him and Sam.

“Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh, no, we’re just looking. Thanks.” Hunter forced a smile as Everett glared, moving to stand in front of Sutton.

I smiled. She and Dean were more alike than they realized.

“So, what can I do for you folks?” Craig came back to us, again staring at me.

“Um.” Sam cleared his throat as Dean stepped ever-so-slightly in front of me. “We’re doing an article on local hauntings and rumor has it you might know of one.”

“You mean the Hell House?”

Dean sighed. “That’s the one.”

“I didn’t think there was anything to the story.” Craig chuckled.

“Why don’t you tell us the story?” I tilted my head.

“Well, supposedly back in the thirties, this farmer, Mordechai Murdoch, used to live in this house with his six daughters. It was during the Depression, his crops were failing, he didn’t have enough money to feed his own children. So I guess that’s when he went off the deep end.”

Sam and I glanced at each other, and he turned back to Craig. “How so?”

“Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quickly, rather than starve to death. So he attacked them. They screamed, begged for him to stop, but he just strung them up, one after the other. And when he was all done he just turned around and hung himself. Now they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside.” He eyed me again. “I’d steer clear if I were you, Ol.”

Dean’s nostrils flared and I shook my head. “Don’t call me that.”

“Where’d you hear all this?” Dean all but growled.

“My cousin Dana told me. I don’t know where she heard it from. Ya gotta realize, I… I didn’t believe it for a second.”

“But now you do.”

“I don’t know what the hell to think, man. I, I’ll tell you exactly what I told the police, okay? That girl was real. And she was dead. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don’t wanna go anywhere near that house ever again, okay?”

Dean nodded, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me away from Craig. “Thanks.”

Hunter immediately went for me, taking me from Dean and throwing an arm around my shoulders. “What’d he tell you?”

I shivered. “Enough to know that it’s probably just a spirit. Simple salt and burn should work. Just have to find where he’s buried.”

Hunter looked over our shoulders at Craig and sighed. “He better not be caught up in this. And he better never look at you like that again.”

I snorted. “I can take care of myself, ya know.”

“I know.” He looked back at me. “And so does Dean. But just in case.”

                                                           ***

“Can’t blame him.” Sam scoffed as we walked up the muddy road to the house.

“Yeah, so much for curb appeal.” Dean snorted as Jinx tugged at her leash.

“Got an-”

“Yeah.” Sutton cut Everett off and pulled out an EMF reader.

“Come on, let’s circle the house.” Dean reached out a hand for me.

I giggled and took it, swinging our hands back and forth like a little kid. He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t suppress the smile growing on his face. Jinx yapped, pulling us around the house.

“Don’t laugh at me, kid.”

I giggled again. “Sorry. You’re just… so protective.”

He snorted. “You’re not allowed to turn this into a chick-flick moment.”

I smiled. “I love you too, De.”

He rolled his eyes again, this time with a huge grin on his face. “I love you too, sweetie.”

“Hey, De?” I swung our hands again.

“Yeah, pumpkin?”

“Would you ever do that?”

“Do what?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

I looked up at him with puppy eyes. “Mercy kill me.”

He blinked, shocked. He stopped walking, and I had to stop with him. Jinx practically choked on her leash, confused as to why we weren’t still moving.

“Baby girl, I would never.”

A small smile grew onto my face. “Make me fight it out to the end?”

He grinned. “Yeah. Side by side, wouldn’t give you a choice.”

I squeezed his hand and started walking again. “Thanks, De. I wouldn’t mercy kill you either. Couldn’t stomach it.”

“Anything?” I asked Sam as he held the EMF out.

“Yeah. A little bit.” Sam squatted to scratch Jinx behind the ears.

“They won’t be any good.” Dean sighed.

“Why?” Sam and I looked up at him.

Dean nodded up at the powerlines. “I think that thing’s still got a little juice in it. It’s screwing all the readings.”

“Yeah, that’d do it.” I sighed.

“Yeah. Come on.” Dean tugged me back to the front of the house.

“So what’s the deal here?” Everett asked, arms crossed over her chest.

Sam sighed, and Sutton shrugged at him. Did middle children have a way of communicating with each other or something?

“You guys stay out here, make sure Olive sticks with you. Keep Jinx with you, too. We take Hunter in there and make sure we know what we’re dealing with.” Dean instructed as he walked me over to them, placing me between Everett and Sutton.

I sighed. “I still think this is stupid.” I took Jinx’s leash from Dean’s hand.

Dean smiled at me. “I still don’t care.”

“Alright, you ready?” Sam asked Hunter, hand on his shoulder.

I smiled. Sam was a big teddy bear.

“Yeah, I think so.” Hunter nodded as Dean gave him a rough pat on the back.

“Guys.” I called as they began to trudge up the steps.

All three boys turned back, Dean in attack stance and Sam with big puppy eyes. I ran up the steps and threw my arms around each brother’s waist. Jinx jumped around, pawing at the boys’ legs.

“I love you guys.” I whispered into Dean’s jacket.

They both sighed and hugged back.

“We love you too.”

“Be careful.”

“Always.” Sam kissed the top of my head before I backed away, stepping back down the steps.

“Hey, Winchester.” Everett growled.

Dean rolled his eyes. “What?”

“If my kid brother comes out of there with a single scratch-”

“Yeah, same goes for you. I want my baby back in mint condition.” Dean snarled at her.

Everett snorted. “Can’t give her back in mint condition if she’s already a disaster.” She mumbled.

I rolled my eyes. “Just go.”

The boys headed inside the house, flashlights up. I sat down on the curb with a sigh. Jinx snuggled onto my lap as Sutton sat down next to me.

“You alright?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “Don’t like the idea of my boys going in there without me.”

She nodded. “I know. I wasn’t too sold on Hunter going alone, but I know he’s in good hands with Sam and Dean.”

I snorted. “Look, I love Hunter, but I don’t trust him to keep my brothers safe.”

She nodded again. “I get that, too.

I closed my eyes with a huff. Jinx let out a small bark. A floorboard creaked, and I shot to my feet, confused.

“Olive? What is it?”

Another floorboard, and then a giggle. It wasn’t Sam’s, it wasn’t Hunter’s, and it most definitely was not Dean’s. Something that sounded like an EMF meter went off, and I turned to the house. Jinx started to go crazy, barking like there was no tomorrow. A bark turned into a growl.

“Shit.”

“Olive?” Everett waved her hand in front of my face.

“There’s someone else in there.” I tore past the siblings and up the steps.

“Dean?” I hissed, blinking to adjust to the dark.

They didn’t answer, but the same floorboards creaked. I cursed under my breath and went down the hallway. I heard Jinx howl from outside.

“Olive.” Dean hissed, and it came out like a strangled bark.

“What the-”

“Shh.” I cut them off, holding a hand up.

Something in the next room thumped, and the boys looked at each other wide eyes. Hunter went for my wrist, and I pulled away from him, standing in front of the door with my shoulders squared. Sam and Dean looked at each other, and Dean sighed. He looked at me. I nodded, and so did Hunter. Dean busted through the door, and a bright light hit our eyes.

Danger.

Blood began to drip from my mouth, a drop landing on my shoe. I bared my teeth.

“Oh, cut! It’s just a couple of humans.”

My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I threw my head back with a growling scoff. Dean snorted, looking at me over his shoulder. Two guys were standing in front of us, one holding a camera, and the other holding… an EMF meter?

“What are you guys going here?” The one with the EMF meter asked.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean hissed.

“Uh, we belong here. We’re professionals.” EMF meter laughed.

“Professional what?” I asked through gritted teeth, swallowing blood.

“Paranormal investigators.” EMF shoved business cards into Sam and Hunter’s hands.

He tried to give one to Dean, but my older brother only stared with arched eyebrows. He turned to me, and I shook my head, trying to ignore the blood that had made its way down my chin.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Dean groaned.

“Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spengler?” Sam read off the card.

“Hellhounds Lair dot come.” Hunter sighed. “You guys run that website.”

“Yeah.” EMF grinned.

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” Dean nodded. “We’re big fans.”

I closed my eyes, trying to hold back an annoyed laugh.

“And uh, we know who you guys are too.”

My blood ran cold and St. Louis ran through my head.

Dean.

My mouth began to bleed again, and my eyes began to water.

“Yeah?”

“Amateurs.” EMF scoffed, and I suddenly felt lightheaded. 

Dean watched me go pale and came to my side, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I leaned into him with a sigh, and a second stream of blood went down my skin. Dean sighed and wiped at it with the sleeve of his flannel.

“You alright?”

I nodded. He gave my arm a squeeze and gestured to Hunter.

“Keep her standing.” He whispered as he handed me off and turned back to EMF and camera boy.

“Gonna be okay?” Hunter asked in a hushed tone.

I nodded again. “I think so. Just a lot of back and forth.”

“St. Louis?” He asked.

I took a breath, closing my eyes. “Yeah.”

“So if you guys don’t mind, we’re trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here.”

“Yeah, and whatcha got?”

“Harry, why don’t ya tell them about EMF?” Idiot One grinned.

I leaned my head back into Hunter’s shoulder and groaned.

“Well…”

“EMF?”

I smiled, knowing Sam was playing dumb and knowing he was biting back a grin.

“Electromagnetic field? Spectral entities can cause energy fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector. Like this bad boy right here.” Ed flicked the EMF meter on.

Dean turned to me with a shit-eating grin, and I turned my face into Hunter’s neck, struggling not to snort.

“Whoa, whoa! It’s 2.8 mg!”

“2.8. It’s hot in here.”

Dean let out a low whistle, and Sam mumbled something.

“Huh.” Dean huffed. “So you guys ever really seen a ghost before, or…”

“Once. We were, uh, we were investigating this old house and we saw a vase fall right off the table.”

“By itself.”

“Well, w-w-w-we didn’t actually see it, we heard it. And something like that, it uh… it changes you.”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded, a serious look on his freckled face. “We should go, let them get back to work.” He looked over his shoulder at me.

I nodded, feeling sick.

“Yeah. You should.” Ed snipped.

“Sam. Hunter, Olive.” Dean ushered us out the door.

“Yeah, work!” Ed called after us as we made our way down the hallway.

“Why did you run in?”

“Why didn’t you bring a shotgun?”

“Are you gonna stop bleeding any time soon?”

I giggled at Hunter, but Dean cut me short, grabbing me by the waist and throwing me over his shoulder.

“De!” I squealed, hitting his back.

He dropped me in front of the steps of the house and glared at me.

“Why the hell did you come inside?”

I sighed, shoulders dropping. “I heard something.”

Sutton and Everett ran up, Jinx on their heels. She yapped, jumping at the boys.

“I’m so sorry! We tried to stop her!”

“I told you-”

“Stop.” I cut Dean off as he went for Everett’s throat. “Stop, I ran out.”

“Why?” Dean barked at me.

I shrunk back with a flinch, and Sam pulled him back. Hunter grabbed his sisters and dragged them away. Jinx sat at our feet with a whine.

“I could hear them moving inside the house.” I whispered.

“What?” Sam tilted my head.

“I could hear them. The floorboards, EMF’s giggle. The EMF meter itself. I could hear them from the curb, De.”

He sighed. “Okay.”

Sam sighed too. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I was just worried. I wasn’t sure what it was.” I pouted, my head feeling tingly.

They sighed, and Dean brought me into a hug. “I know. It’s okay. Just try to take care of yourself too, baby.”

I nodded, letting my head drop against his chest. “Okay.”

“Go to sleep, Sammy’s got ya.” He gave me a squeeze.

I nodded again. Sam picked me up by the waist and set me on his hip. I yawned and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Love you.”

Sam chuckled. “Love you too, bug.”

                                                           ***

“Hey.” Sam sauntered down the steps.

“Hey!” I called Dean as he met us halfway.

“Whatcha got?” He asked.

“Well, we couldn’t find a Mordechai but we did find a Martin Murdoch who lived in that house in the thirties.” Dean let go of Jinx’s leash, and she came running.

“He did have kids, but it was two boys. And there’s no evidence he ever killed anyone.” Sutton finished as Sam picked Jinx up.

“Huh.” Dean huffed.

“What about you?” Hunter asked.

Everett turned back to the cars, and we followed her.

“Well, the kids didn’t really give us a clear description of that dead girl but I did hit up the police station.” Dean sighed.

“No matching missing persons. It’s like she never existed.” Everett shook her head.

“Look guys. We did our digging. This whole thing’s a bust. For all we know, those website freaks made this whole thing up.”

“Yeah, he’s got a point.” Sutton put her hands on her hips.

“Alright. We can split then, I guess.” I shrugged.

Everett grinned. “I’m fine with that. Let’s go!”

“I say we find ourselves a bar and some beers and leave the legend to the locals.” Dean winked.

Sam wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me away from Dean as he made his way to the car. He held Jinx to his chest with the other arm, tucking her under his jacket.

“Wh-”

“Shh.” Sam whispered.

I waved to Hunter and Sutton as Everett started their car. Dean got into the car, and Sam pulled me toward the window with a smile. Dean turned the key, and latino music began to blast. Dean hit the radio, but the wipers began to go off instead. He tore the key out with a jump. Jinx barked, scared.

“What the fuck?”

Sam giggled as he held the door open. I stared with wide eyes as I climbed into the car. Sam licked his finger and marked a ‘one’ in the air before pointing to himself. He got into the car and I inched closer to Dean, still a bit startled. Jinx circled between me and Sam before laying down, and I stared at him. I thought for sure that Sam knew better than to mess with Dean’s car.

“That’s all you’ve got?” Dean gave him a dirty look. “Weak. That is bush league.”

I curled my arms around one of Dean’s.

“Can we go home now?”

He smiled down at me. “Of course we can, sweetpea.”

                                                           ***

“Hello?” I asked as I flicked my phone open.

Sam and Dean had left me sleeping in the motel room while they went to a diner to pick up dinner. Jinx was asleep at the feet of Sam’s bed. She loved him the most.

“Olive, have the Richmonds left town yet?”

“No. I just got off the phone with Hunter. Everett is asleep and Sutton went out to get them dinner. I thought maybe you guys would run into her.”

“Well, we haven’t. Look, call him back. We missed something. We’ll call Sutton, tell her to meet us back at the Hell House.”

“Okay… De, what happened?”

He sighed. “A girl’s dead.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. We saw her. It was real.”

I sighed again. “Does this mean I’ll have to hold onto your belt loop the whole time?”

He snorted. “You bet your ass it does.”

I scoffed. “Okay. Love you guys. Be careful.”

“Always. You too. Love you.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” Dean made an obnoxious kissing noise before hanging up.

I sighed as I dialed Hunter’s number again. I put the phone between my ear and shoulder as I got off the bed.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Hunt.” I sighed and dug through our communal bag.

I had already changed into my pj’s and shoved my clothing into the duffel.

“What’s up?”

“Look, Sam and Dean said we must’ve missed something. Dean wants you guys to meet us at the Hell House.”

Hunter sighed. “What happened?”

“A girl’s dead, and he sounded agitated.” I put him on speaker and tossed the phone aside.

“Alright. Everett is still out, she’s probably hungover. But I’ll wake her up and make sure she gets ready.”

“Make sure she doesn’t cut your head off.” I tugged off Dad’s old sweater and yanked on a black shirt.

“Haha, very funny. Are those website guys still suspects?”

I pulled on leggings and snorted. “I kinda hope so. I’d love nothing more than to cut EMF freak in two.”

“I still can’t believe you barged right in there without a gun. I’m surprised Dean didn’t shoot you on the spot.”

“Oh, shove it.” I laced my boots up. “Dean loves me. Would never shoot me.”

He snorted this time. “Yeah. Right, sure. Alright, I’ll let you go. I’ve gotta wake Everett up.”

I giggled. “Good luck. See ya.”

“Bye, Ol.”

                                                           ***

I shushed Hunter as we crouched in the bushes.

“I guess the cops don’t want anyone else screwing around in there.” Sam whispered.

There was a cop car parked on the curb, and they were standing around the porch.

“Yeah, but we still gotta get in there.” Dean sighed.

Somebody else whispered, and I turned to glare at Everett. She wasn’t talking. I looked around, slowly edging out of our hiding spot. Jinx would’ve barked, so we left her at the motel. Lucky for us, she was still sleeping when Sam and Dean picked me up.

“I don’t fucking believe it.” Hunter growled.

“What?” I looked at him, and he helped me move forward without being seen.

The two idiots from earlier. Hunched over, wearing stupid gadgets, whispering and shushing each other. I inhaled to let out a snort, and a hand clapped over my mouth. I looked down to see that it was Dean’s hand, and I licked him. He flinched, pulling me back to sit.

“Ohh, De.” I turned to him with a huge smile. “I got an idea.”

He smiled. “Go ahead.”

I shuffled to rest on my knees. I cleared my throat before cupping my hands to my mouth.

“Who ya gonna call!”

Idiot One and Idiot Two stumbled, confused. The cops spotted them, and began shouting orders. The idiots ran back the way they came, and the cops followed.

Everett chuckled. “Nice move, Winchester.”

I grinned as Sam pulled me onto my feet. We followed Dean up the sidewalk and into the house. We were laughing, and I let out a snort.

“Alright, alright.” Sam tried to quiet us down.

“Everyone settle.” Sutton smiled.

“Okay.” Sam swung the duffel bag off his shoulder and onto the floor. “Olive.” He handed out rifles as he did a head count.

Dean was next to get a rifle, then Sutton. Hunter, and Everett last.

“Where have I seen this before?” Dean shone his flashlight at the walls. “It’s killing me.”

“Alright, come on. We don’t have much time.” Sam called.

He led the way down to the basement. Him first, then Dean, and me, of course, stuck behind Dean. Hunter, then Sutton, and then Everett.

“Oh, look at that. That’s funky.” Hunter pointed at a shelf full of jars.

“Oh, nice.” I strayed from the group and went straight for them.

Dean followed, picking up a red one. He sloshed it around and turned with a grin.

“Hey, Sam. I dare you to take a swig of this.”

“What the hell would I do that for?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

I grinned up at Dean, and he mirrored it.

“I double dare you.”

Sam shook his head with a snort. I looked through the jars, seeing one that looked like it had an eyeball in it. I pushed it away with a groan of disgust. Hunter laughed from beside me, and something thumped in the cabinet in the corner. Hunter stood in front of me and clutched his rifle. Sutton positioned herself behind Sam, and Everett behind Dean. Dean and Sutton’s rifles went up as Everett’s flashlight turned on. Hunter squared his shoulders and glanced at me. I stood on my toes, resting my head against his shoulder. Dean nodded, and Sam yanked the door open.

A few rats squeaked and ran away from the light. Dean groaned and lifted his feet.

“I hate rats.”

“What, you’d rather it was a ghost?” I giggled.

“Yes, actually.” Dean squinted at me.

I dug my fingers into Hunter’s arm as a figure appeared behind Sam.

“Ev!”

“Sams!”

The four older hunters turned around. I shoved Hunter out of the way and cocked my rifle. Mordechai rose an axe above his head, aiming at Sam.

“Duck.” I ordered before taking my shot.

Nothing happened, and I shot him again. Someone else shot at him, and he finally misted away.

“What the fucking hell?” I hissed, running to Dean.

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and looked around.

“What kind of spirit is immune to rock salt?” Sam asked as we moved.

Dean and I ducked behind the shelves of jars, confused. I looked around, trying to figure out what was going on.

“I dunno, but we should get outta here right now.” Everett grabbed Hunter by the wrist and yanked him toward the door.

Mordechai came back, and his axe came down on the shelves. The jars shattered at our feet, and one hit my head.

I crawled out from under the metal as the Richmonds pulled the shelf up.

“Fuck.” I hissed, hand going to the back of my head.

“Go!” Sam shouted as he took on Mordechai. “Get out of here!”

“Hey, cunt!” I screamed, waving my arms and aiming my rifle.

Mordechai turned to me, and I felt my chest clench. He swung at me, and I ducked and rolled. Sam plucked me off the ground as the axe slammed an electrical box. Sparks flew everywhere, and Sam tossed me over his shoulder.

Everett led the way up the stairs, and Sam and I brought up the rear. I yelped as we ran through the hall and out onto the porch. Sutton fell first, and it was a domino effect. I ended up on top of Sam, legs caught under Hunter.

“Ow!” I howled.

My arm cracked as I shifted, and I felt my bones throb.

“Go, go, go!” Sam shouted, trying to untangle himself from the mess.

Hunter rolled off of us and helped me to my feet. I yanked at Sam, then at Dean. Dean grabbed my arm, and I yanked away with a yelp. Idiot One and Idiot Two were standing there, camera on us.

“Get that fucking thing outta my face.” Dean smacked them away.

“Go, go, go!” Sam shouted.

“Sweet Lord!”

“Of the rings! Run! Go!”

“Come on.” Hunter grabbed my hand and yanked me along with him.

                                                           ***

“Hey, baby girl.” Dean shot up from the bed as I opened the door.

“Hi, Deano.”  I smiled.

“How you feeling?” Sam looked up from his laptop.

I shrugged a shoulder. “Fine. Hurting, but fine.”

Sutton sat down next to Sam as Everett shut the door. “She’s gotta take these for the pain, and the cast has to be changed in a month, maybe two. You’re gonna have to be on top of her doctor’s appointments, because Dean’ll forget.”

“Hey!” Dean scoffed. “I would never forget about my baby’s health.” He turned to me. “C’mere.”

I sat down next to him with a huff. Jinx padded over to my side and gave me sad eyes.

“My arm is itchy.”

He laughed. “Sorry, Babes.”

“Can you sign it?” I looked up at him with puppy eyes.

He smiled and nodded. I pulled out a sharpie and handed it to him. He threaded his fingers through mine and signed his name onto the plaster.

Dean Michael Winchester, written in ugly, scratchy handwriting. Below that, Olive, my baby. I love you so much. Sorry your arm broke 🖤🖤

“So, what’ve we got?” Hunter asked, sitting on the couch.

“Not much.” Sam scratched the back of his neck. “Haven’t really started.”

Everett scoffed, and Sutton shot her a look.

“We were worried about Olive!” Sam defended himself.

“What the hell is this symbol?” Dean groaned, picking up a pad of paper from his side. “It’s buggin’ the hell out of me. This whole damn job’s buggin’ me. I thought the legend said Mordechai only goes after chicks.”

“It does.” Sam snorted.

I pulled out my laptop and started it up. I stood and stretched, groaning at the dull pain in my arm.

“Alright. Well, I mean that explains why he went after Olive, and you. But why me?” Dean leaned back.

“Hilarious.” Sam rolled his eyes. “The legend also says he hung himself but did you see those wrists?”

“Yeah.”

“What about them?” I asked as I got onto the Idiot2 website.

“They were slit.” Sam threw his head back with a groan.

“That doesn’t make sense.” I scrunched my nose up and settled next to Hunter.

“The axe doesn’t either, actually.” He noted, throwing an arm over my shoulders.

“I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over again.” Sam sighed.

I made a grabby hand at him, and he moved to sit on my other side.

“But this mook keeps changing.” Dean scoffed.

I got onto the and refreshed the page on Mordechai Murdoch. “Okay, the story definitely said… wait a minute.” I blinked. “What the fuck?” I asked, turning my laptop to Sam.

“What?”

“Read.” I pointed.

Dean looked up at me with an eyebrow raised.

“Someone added a new post to their site. Read it out loud, Sams.

“They say Mordechai Murdoch was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an axe before slitting his own wrists. Now he’s imprisoned in the house for eternity.” Sam squinted.

“What the hell?” Everett tilted her head.

“I don’t know. But I think I might’ve just figured out where it all started.” Dean tossed aside the pad of paper.

                                                           ***

“Hey, Craig. Remember us?” Dean asked as we sauntered into the shop.

He looked up with a sigh. He looked depressed. The Richmonds followed us in.

“Guys, look. I’m not really in the mood to answer any of your questions, okay?”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Dean waved him off. “We’re just here to buy an album, that’s all.”

He flicked through a stack and picked one out. I eyed it and looked up at him with a smile.

He was a genius.

He slung an arm around my shoulders and walked us toward the counter. “You know, I couldn’t quite figure out what the symbol was, and then I realized that it didn’t mean anything. It’s the Blue Öyster Cult logo.” He turned to Craig. “Tell me, Craig. You uh, you into BOC? Or just scaring the hell outta people?”

“Why don’t you tell us about the house again?” I narrowed my eyes.

“Without lying through your ass this time.” Dean pulled a bitchface.

Craig sighed. “Alright, uh… my cousin Dana was on break from TCU. We were just bored, looking for something to do…” He sighed. “So I showed her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be cool to make it look like it was haunted.”

Hunter snorted from behind me.

“So we painted symbols on the walls, some from albums, from Dana’s theology textbooks. Then we found out this guy Murdoch used to live there, so we… we made up some story to go along with that. So we told people, who told other people. And then these two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took on a life of its own.”

Sutton squinted, and Everett mumbled something to her.

“I mean, I thought it was fun at first, but… now that girl is dead, and… it was just a joke! Ya know, I mean… none of it was real. We made this whole thing up. I swear!”

“Alright.” Sam spoke softly.

“Okay.” Everett pulled Sutton and Hunter along.

I sighed and looked up at Sam. “If none of it was real, how the hell do you explain Mordechai?”

Sam looked at me and shook his head. “I dunno.”

                                                           ***

“Wake up, pumpkin.” Dean’s voice broke me out of my sleep as he rested a hand on my hip.

I groaned as I rolled over onto my back. “What?”

“Hey, I’m back.” He called out to Sam, who was in the shower.

“Hey, where were you?” Sam asked as the water turned off.

“Picking up orange juice for Ollie.” Dean winked at me as he sat down next to me.

I yawned as I sat up. I smiled at him and threw my arm around his neck. He laughed and hugged me back, pressing a kiss to my head.

“Thanks, De. I fucking love orange juice.”

He chuckled. “I know.”

“So Ollie might have a theory about what’s going on.” Sam called out.

“Yeah?”

“She still asleep?”

“Just woke her up.” Dean brushed my hair back.

“Yeah, what is Mordechai is a Tulpa?” I asked.

“Tulpa?” Dean repeated.

The door opened and Sam came out, hair dripping wet and a towel around his waist. I closed my eyes with a scowl on my face. Dean turned too, a bit grossed out. Jinx tilted her head at us, and I giggled. She was like a little human, only confused all the time.

“Put on some clothes.”

Sam picked up a pillow and threw it at me. It hit my juice and I pouted as it spilled over. 

“Dean!” I whined, throwing my head back against the wall.

He took the cup and grabbed a few tissues, wiping the juice off my hand. “Sorry, Babes. Sam, don’t be a dick.”

“Just… Tulpa.” I hissed at Sam.

“Yeah, a Tibetan thought form.”

“Ah, yeah, I know what a Tulpa is. Hey Sam, why don’t you get dressed. I wanna grab something to eat. I gotta take a leak.”

I laid back down and pulled the blanket over my head. “Wake me up when we’re ready to go.”

                                                           ***

“There you go.” The server put six coffees on the counter.

“Thank you.” Dean and I smiled as we took the cups and walked back to Sam and the Richmonds.

Sam was grimacing and trying to fix his pants. I cringed, and Dean eyed him.

“Dude, what’s your problem?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” Sam brushed him off.

“You sure?” I asked as I sat down next to him.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, keep going.” Dean took a seat. “So, these Tulpas?”

Sutton looked up and sighed. She took her coffee and yawned. Hunter leaned forward on his elbows and yawned. Everett put her head in her hands.

“Okay, so there was this incident in Tibet in 1915. Group of monks visualized a golem in their head. They meditated on it so hard they brought the thing to life. Outta thin air.” Sam glanced at his computer.

“So?” Everett raised an eyebrow.

“That was twenty monks. Imagine what ten thousand web surfers could do.” Sutton scowled at her sister.

“She’s right. Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard.”

“Okay, wait a second. Are you trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he’s real?” Dean’s nose scrunched up.

“I dunno, maybe.” Sam shuffled again.

“People believe in Santa Claus… how come we aren’t getting hooked up every Christmas?”

“Because, Dean, you’re a horrible person. And because of this.” Sutton turned Sam’s laptop toward us.

One of the symbols from the Hell House was on his screen.

“Lemme guess, that’s the Tibetan spirit sigil?” Hunter asked.

“On the wall of the house?” I added.

“Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this, not even knowing what it was. Now that sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass.”

“So people are on the Hellhounds website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai… might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life.” I shrugged.

“Would explain why he keeps changing.” Dean sighed.

Sam shuffled again. “Right, as the legend changes, people think different things. So Mordechai changes.”

“Like a game of telephone.”

“That would also explain why the rock salt didn’t work.” I sighed.

“Because he’s not a traditional spirit.” Dean frowned.

“Yeah.” Sam fidgeted again.

“Okay. So why can’t we just, uh…” Everett pinched the bridge of her nose. “Get this spirit sigil thing off the wall and off the website?”

“Well, it’s not that simple.” Sutton shook her head. “You see, once Tulpas are created they take on a life of their own.”

“Great. So if he really is a thought form…” Dean scowled. “How the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?”

Sam began to move again.. “Well it’s not gonna be easy with these guys helping us. Check out their homepage.” He nodded toward Sutton.

Sutton hit something on his laptop and a video started to play. I groaned. It was the footage from last night. The Richmonds crashed down the stairs, followed by a crumbling Dean, and Sam. Me, crashing to the ground, Hunter over my feet, me shouting as my arm snapped.

“Since they’ve posted the video, their number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone.”

I tensed. “De, if anyone recognizes you…” I sighed. “We’re screwed.”

“Hmph.” Dean’s lip curled up. “I got an idea. Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Sutton asked as Dean stood.

“We gotta find a CopyJack.”

I got off my stool with a yawn. Hunter followed, and Sam wiggled as he got to his feet. He grumbled something to Dean, and Dean only laughed. Sutton and Everett looked over their shoulders, confused.

“You did this?” Sam asked.

Dean only laughed harder.

“You’re a fucking jerk.” Sam hissed at him.

“Oh, yeah.” Dean grinned.

I rolled my eyes. Sam and Dean went for me at the same time, and I ducked away, pacing myself with Hunter. Sam blinked sadly, and Dean stuck his tongue out at me. I stuck mine out back.

“Brat.”

“Prick.”

                                                           ***

Dean pounded his fist on the door of the trailer.

“Who is it?” Idiot Two asked.

“Come on out, guys. We can hear you in there.”

Jinx let out a little growl, and I bit back a smile.

“It’s them!”

The door opened and they stuck their heads out.

“Ah, would you look at that. Action figures in their original packaging. What a shock.” Dean snorted.

“Guys, we need to talk.” Sam sighed.

“Yeah, um… sorry guys. We’re ahh, a little busy right now.” Idiot One shuffled.

I slammed my hand against the door as he tried to shut it. “Okay, well we’ll make it quick. You need to shut down the website.”

“Man, you know, these guys got us busted last night, spent the night in a holding cell…” He laughed.

“I had to pee in that cell urinal. In front of people! And I get stage fright.”

“Why should we trust you guys?”

“Look, guys. We all know what we saw last night, what’s in the house.” Everett crossed her arms over her chest.

“But now thanks to your website there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai.” Sutton rested all her weight on one hip.

“That’s right, which means people are gonna keep showing up at the Hell House, running into him in person.” Hunter dead-panned.

“Somebody could get hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Ed, maybe he’s got a point. Maybe…”

“Nope.” Idiot One shook his head. “We have an obligation to our fans, to the truth.”

“Well I have an obligation to kick both your little asses right now-”

“Ev, Ev, hey, hey, hey, just forget it, alright.” Sutton pulled her back. “These guys…” She sighed dramatically. “Probably bitch slap them both, we could even tell them that thing about Mordechai, but they’re still not gonna help us.”

“Sutton’s right. Let’s just go.” I sighed, readjusting my grip on Jinx’s leash.

“Yeah, he’s right.” Dean sighed as we began to walk away.

“What’d you say about…”

“Hang on a second here.”

“What thing about Mordechai?”

“Don’t tell em, Sutton.” Hunter begged.

“But if they agree to shut down the website, guys…” Sutton trailed off.

“They’re not gonna do it, you said so yourself.” Dean sighed.

“No, wait. Wait. Don’t listen to him, okay? We’ll do it. We’ll do it.” Idiot One stepped out of the trailer.

“Look, it’s a really big deal, alright? And it wasn't easy to dig up. So only if we have your word that you’ll shut it all down.” Sutton leaned in.

“Totally.”

“Alright.” Sutton nodded at Dean.

He pulled a few papers from his jacket.

“It’s a death certificate. From the thirties. We got it at the library. Now, according to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”

“That’s right. He didn’t hang or cut himself.” Dean added.

“He shot himself?”

“Yep.” Sam nodded. “With a .45 pistol. To this day they say he’s terrified of them.”

“Matter of fact, they say if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds-”

“It’ll kill the son of a bitch.” Dean cut me off.

Idiot One snatched the paper, and Idiot Two smiled.

“Alright, we should head out.” Hunter grabbed me by the wrist and tugged me away.

Sam and Dean followed. Everett spat on the step of the trailer, and Sutton smacked the back of her head before walking away.

                                                           ***

Hunter: be safe. sorry we had to abandon you guys

I smiled as I typed back a response.

Olive: we always do great without you guys anyways. just don’t get yourself killed

Hunter: will do

The Richmonds had left town. A case that seemed like werewolves had popped up in Oklahoma, and we were the closest hunters around. Dean was determined to take Mordechai down, so Everett decided they’d peel out. I yawned as I leaned against Dean. He wrapped an arm around me as he reached up. I watched as he pulled the cord on a mechanical fisherman holding a large fish. The fisherman’s mouth moved and an obnoxious laugh played. Sam yanked on the cord, and the laugh stopped.

“If you pull that string one more time I’m gonna kill you.” Sam promised.

We had been sitting in the cafe for the last two hours, and Dean had pulled the cord so many times that I would have nightmares about the laugh. Dean blinked, deadpan. He maintained eye contact with Sam as he pulled the cord again. Sam’s hand immediately went back up and he stopped it. He glared at Dean. I yawned again, this time snuggling further into Dean’s side. I wanted to go back to the motel, take Jinx for her nightly walk, and go to bed.

Dean snickered. “Come on, man. You need some more laughter in your life. You know, you’re way too tense.”

Sam only gave Dean another dirty look. Dean sighed, and I huffed.

“They post it yet?”

Sam spun his laptop around to us and began to stab at his salad, angry.

“We’ve learned from reputable sources that Mordechai Murdoch has a fatal fear of firearms.” Dean read off the scream.

“Alright, so how long do we wait?” I asked.

“Long enough for the story to spread and the legend to change.” Sam spoke with a hand over his mouth. “I figure by nightfall iron rounds will work on the sucker.” Sam swallowed and reached for his beer.

I grinned and grabbed my glass of juice. Dean lifted his own and the three of us tapped our drinks together.

“Sweet.” Dean grinned before taking a long chug.

A smirk grew on Sam’s face and I shrunk into Dean’s side. He was up to something. Dean put his bottle down, but it stuck to his palm. My eyes widened as Sam broke into a cackle and Dean stared at his bottle, confused.

He looked up at Sam. “You didn’t.”

Sam laughed harder and held up a bottle of super glue. “Oh, I did!”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Bitch.”

“Jerk.” Sam wheezed.

“Oh my god, you’re both fucking pricks!” I hissed, pulling away from Dean. “Why do you always have to go so far?”

“Why are you mad at me?”

“Because now I’ll have to rip that bottle off of his hand!” I groaned.

“Ollie, it’s okay.” Dean held his other hand out.

I scowled, smacking it away. “Get up. There’s some acetone in the car.”

Dean sighed. “Okay.”

                                                           ***

“Okay, come on.” Dean shut the trunk and led us up the porch steps.

He cleared his throat, and I put my back to his. I was left without a flashlight. A gun with one hand was risky, but I was a good shot, and Dean wanted me to be able to protect myself. We started with the hallway. Dean readjusted his gun with a hiss.

“I barely have any skin left on my palm.” He groaned.

“I’m not touching that line with a ten foot pole.” Sam snipped back.

Dean stopped us in our tracks and shone his light in Sam’s face. Sam winced and turned away. Dean, satisfied, moved into another room.

“So. You think old Mordechai’s home?” He whispered.

“I dunno.”

“Me either.”

The three of us jumped, guns pointing at the noise. I scowled. Idiot One and Idiot Two.

“You fuckers.” I growled.

“What are you trying to do, get yourself killed?” Sam hissed.

“We’re just trying to get a book and movie deal, okay?” Idiot One whined.

A sound like knives being sharpened came from the basement, and I cringed as I readjusted my grip on my gun.

“Oh, crap.”

Sam and Dean shot them identical looks as they crowded us, camera on.

“Ah… you guys, you wanna… you wanna open that door for us?” Idiot One asked.

“Why don’t you?” Dean spat over his shoulder.

Mordechai burst through the door with the same axe from before. He let out an other-wordly shout, and I shot first. Sam and Dean shot over my shoulders, shooting until they were out of rounds. Mordechai stared at us, and then disappeared again. My chest clenched as we waited. He was gone. Dean stood in front of me and nodded for us to follow him into the next room

There was a thud in the next room, and my phone began to buzz in my pocket. I flicked it open, seeing that it was Hunter.

“What?” I hissed as Sam put his back to mine and Dean ran back to the idiots.

“Their server crashed.”

“What?” I repeated.

“Their server crashed! Nobody got the story. Guns won’t do shit! You guys gotta get outta there!”

I blinked, then grabbed Sam.

“Dean!” I shouted. “Guns won’t work!”

“Great.” He growled as we ran back into the room.

“Any ideas?” I asked Sam.

“We are getting outta here.” One of the idiots grabbed the other as they broke into a run.

They pushed past Dean into the other room. We paused as they screamed. They ran back to the front, trying to get the door open.

“Jesus Mary and Joseph!”

Mordechai came after them, and Idiot One began to scream.

“Hey!” Sam called. “Come and get it, you ugly son of a bitch!”

Mordechai attacked Sam, pinning his axe against his neck.

“Get out of here, now!” He ordered.

Danger.

“Sammy!”

“Come on!” Dean grabbed me by the hand and yanked me along. “We gotta burn the place down!”

“But Sam!”

“Ol-”

“Sammy.” I whined.

“Ollie.” Dean grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. “Sam’s in danger, you’re scared.”

I nodded. “Sam.”

“Use that. Get that door open, get to the car, get kerosene.”

I shut my eyes and heard Sam yelp. My teeth began to ache, and I spit blood out. Dean turned me by the shoulders and gave me a squeeze. I let out a grunt as I kicked the door. It didn’t move. Sam yelled again, and I let out a scream as I went at it with my shoulder. It splintered off its hinges.

Jinx was going mad in the backseat of the car, circling and barking and growling. She saw me coming and stuck her head out the window, letting out a howl.

I went for the car, was careful to flip open the trunk, and yanked out the gallon of kerosene. I ran back into the house, and Dean took the container away from me, pouring it on every possible surface. My mouth was throbbing, and I heard Sam from the next room.

“Dean! Olive!”

“Hey!”

I turned to see the Richmonds running up the steps, spray cans in hand. Hunter tossed me one. I grunted as I tore off my sling and went through my pockets. I flicked on my lighter, letting the flame catch. I threw the can onto the floor and went for Sam. A growl ripped through my throat, and Mordechai disappeared. Sam fell.

“Come on!” I pulled him off the floor.

Dean helped me get him to his feet. Sam grabbed his throat and coughed.

“What are we doing?”

“Improvising.” Sutton grabbed Sam’s arm and tugged it over her shoulders.

Everett flicked her lighter on and threw it into the other room. Flames went up, and Sutton helped Dean yank Sam out of the house. I hissed as someone bumped into my arm. Hunter dragged me out of the house, and Everett was the last to follow us out.

“This is your solution? Burn the whole damn place to the ground?” She scowled at Dean.

“Well nobody will go in anymore. I mean, look. Mordechai can’t haunt a house if there’s no house to haunt.” He huffed. “It’s fast and dirty but it works.”

I sat down on the front lawn and groaned, holding my arm. Hunter took his flannel off and fashioned a sling out of it. I was too tired to try and stop him.

“What if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?”

“Well…” Dean sighed.

“Then we’ll just have to come back.” I spoke through a mouthful of blood.

Sam plucked me off the ground and set me on his hip with a sigh. I hissed, spitting over his shoulder.

“Kinda makes you wonder. Of all the things we hunted, how many existed just ‘cause people believed in them. Right, bug?” Sam asked.

I nodded. Dean helped me control it inside. Pushing me in the right direction, telling me what to do. It helped. Sam would keep me awake afterwards. It was draining, and I was so tired, but I needed to be ready for the day my brothers wouldn’t be there to carry me to the car right afterwards.

“You guys came back.” I whispered, staring at Hunter.

He smiled, and Sutton sighed. Everett only rolled her eyes.

“You guys would’ve done the same for us.”

Dean snorted as he pulled out the car keys. “Like hell we would’ve.”

I sniffled. “Can we go now? My arm hurts.”

Sam grinned as he gave me a squeeze. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

                                                           ***

“Why are we here?” I asked with a yawn.

Jinx circled at Sam’s feet before finally laying down in the shade of the picnic table. Dean grinned as Idiot One and Idiot Two came along with arms full of grocery bags.

“Gentlemen. Lady.” Idiot One nodded his head at us.

“Hey, guys.” Sam smiled.

I couldn’t help but grin. He was so polite. Such a sweetheart. A big teddy bear. I blinked. My pain meds were making me loopy.

“Should we tell them?”

“Hey, might as well. You know, they’re gonna read about it in the trades.” Idiot One scoffed.

“So this morning, we got a phone call from a very important Hollywood producer.”

I smiled, leaning into Dean’s side. “Oh yeah, wrong number?”

“No, smart-ass. He read all about the Hell House on our website and wants to option the motion picture rights. Maybe even have us write it.” Idiot One spoke as they loaded the groceries into their car.

“And create the RPG.”

Dean blinked. “The what?”

“Role playing game.”

“Right.” Dean nodded, lips pursed.

“A little lingo for you.”

“Anyhoo, excuse us. We’re off to lala land.”

“Well, congratulations guys. That sounds really great.” Sam smiled.

“Yeah. That’s awesome, best of luck to you.”

“Oh, yeah. Luck. That has nothing to do with it. It’s about talent. Sheer, unabashed talent.”

We looked around at each other and nodded. Idiot One threw up a peace sign.

“Later.”

They got into their car and drove off.

“I have a confession to make.” Sam turned to me with a huge grin.

“What’s that?” Dean turned with a smile.

“I uh… I was the one that called them and told them I was a producer.” He scratched the back of his neck.

I giggled, and Dean threw an arm around my shoulder. “Yeah.” He laughed. “Well, I’m the one who put the dead fish in their backseat.”

I giggled again, and the boys broke into laughter.

“Hey, boys?” I looked up.

“Yeah, bug?”

“What is it, baby?”

I gave them puppy eyes. “Truce? Please?”

They sighed and looked at each other. Sam shrugged, and Dean nodded.

“Yeah, truce.”

“Truce.” Sam smiled.

“At least for the next hundred miles.” Dean winked as he got up.

“Let’s go home.”

Previous Ep: Shadow (1.16)

Next Ep: Something Wicked (1.18)

#supernatural cast #supernatural season one #supernatural fic #supernatural oc #dean winchester #sam wichester #supernatural #olive winchester #my posts #dean and sam #sam and dean #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean x sister!reader #sam x sister!reader #sam x sister!oc #sam winchester x sister!oc #dean x sister!oc #dean winchester x sister!oc #john winchester #john winchester x daughter!reader #john winchester x daughter!oc #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #jeffery dean morgan #winchester #winchester sister #winchester sibling #micwrites

[yaachtynoboat711]

The Plus One

A/N: Allow me to break once more from Fonder to give you all this Oscar fic mini-series (literally two, maybe three chapters). Here’s all the fluff your hearts can handle before I resume with Chapter 7 and 8.1 I know it’s late, but this is for @sonofnjobu ’s WIP FF. I had wisdom teeth taken out last week so I was out of action. This fic is very descriptive and interactive, so please, enjoy!

Word Count: 2.7k

Warning(s): FLUFF, possibly some errors/typos

Sunday mornings— the days of rest and recreation for you and your fiancée Winston. Lately, the two of you would spend half the day planning the wedding with you all’s planner. Sometimes, you and Winston would maybe get up before 10, no later than 11 to lounge around. Yet, this Sunday morning wasn’t like any other Sunday. No ma’am: this Sunday was filled with the preparation and the attendance of the 91st Academy Awards in Los Angeles! You’d been in LA since the week of your Jimmy Kimmel interview for further wedding planning, final Oscar-related consultations, and just a well-needed breather.

Within the past few months, you’d been working on Maryland’s suit lawsuit against the Trump administration. While in California, you’d met with the lawyers responsible for the state’s lawsuit. You and your partners hit the ground running after Christmas break and basically moved into the firm during the government shutdown and the weeks following. Around this time last year, you were face-first in your cases. You’d be damned if you would once again miss the opportunity to be Winston’s plus one for the awards ceremony due to work.

Your phone’s alarm began sounding off at 9:45 a.m. You decided to turn in the night before while Winston attended Common’s pre-Oscar party. It must’ve been Opposite Day. It would be you going out and Winston stayed in. Usually, you’d be snuggled up in your man’s arms sleeping. Instead, you were on your stomach, head to the side and resting on top of your hands. Dead to the world. You did,however, match Wins’ fly and slept in a new gold megabonnet to match his velvet durag (you’d bought him 10-15 new durags for Valentine’s Day). By the time your eyes reluctantly opened, you noticed that he was gone. Before you could curl your lip and whimper, you picked up your phone to find Wins’ text to start you off for the day.

You sat up on your elbows and smiled at the sight of the two white waffle bathrobes staring at you. The longer robe read “Duke” in crimson stitching, while the other read “Abdullah-Duke” in blue stitching. When you got out of bed, you caressed and carefully observed your robe. Baby boy ain’t skimpin’ on the quality of these robes. Ol’ extra ass. You quickly went into the shower, waterproof speaker in hand. From City Girls to Megan Thee Stallion to Kurt Carr and to Broadway soundtracks, your 25-minute shower performance was one for the books. Once you’d finished showering and doing your Oscars skincare routine, you went back into the bedroom to find Winston stretched out on the bed, his gapped grin stretching from ear to ear.

“Well, good morning, Mama Bear. That was one helluva performance you put on in there.” He looked you up and down like you were the last oxtail, slowly licking his top lip. “I see somebody likes their new robe.”, Winston complimented as he watched you walk towards him. He re-adjusted his stance so you could straddle his lap.

“Good morning to you,too, Daddy Bear. I don’t like it at all—I love it.”, you said in the crook of his neck as you kissed it repeatedly.

“You ready for today?”

You paused, going through the day’s mental Rolodex of events. “Of course—we’ll be together. You’ve been on an Oscars red carpet, I haven’t. Guide me. Show me your ways, Master Duke.”, you said dramatically. Winston’s deep, almost maniacal laughter sounded in your ear. He stared into your light brown eyes and smiled. Kissing your fivehead, he said, “You’re so dramatic. Of course. I’m excited for tonight...like very excited.” He kissed your ring and then your lips. You cheesed like the spoiled princess you knew you were. The two of you continued to cuddle, which eventually led to your lips finding their way onto his. Just as his curious hand ventured underneath your robe, there was a knock on the hotel suite door. Your head fell back in frustration and you reluctantly got out of Winston’s lap and smoothed your robe out as you walked to the door.

Winston whistled. “I hate to see you go, but I love watching you leave.” He tucked his lip under his top row of teeth.

“Shut yo corny ass up...Gabe.” Your face twisted and you placed an emphatic but playful tone on “Gabe” before sticking your tongue out. You looked through the peephole and opened the door for your assistant Jacqui, your wig stylist Maya Elise, and your makeup artist Alicia (your usual glam artist Justin was out of the country. It was time.

Not long after your glam squad arrived, Winston’s team came trickling in. The last-minute decision to get a two-bedroom suite instead of one was paying off. You and Winston broke off into different rooms and began your transformations.

Two hours and a whole Gillette advertisement later, you were reunited with your big head for lunch. When you emerged from the room, you were taken aback to see your fiance sporting an immaculate low fade. His beard was trimmed just right, enough to know it’d been flourishing in its growth. Ahh, my favorite seat looks like a meal for real. He stood feet from you in his white robe, giving you one of those looks.

As if on cue, your twin sister Farrah knocked on the door.

“Li, I’m so sorry. The one time I try to work on something last-minute, I’m almost an hour late. Where’s your room?”, Farrah said as she tried to catch her breath. She was holding your dress in her signature purple garment bag across her arms.

“ Rah! It’s okay, Boop. First off, slow down. Secondly, I’m over here.”, you pointed your fan behind you indicating where to put the dress. You excused yourself and returned to your room.

Farrah was an up and coming size-inclusive fashion designer and most importantly, your fraternal twin sister. You and Farrah were on completely different ends of the same spectrum. Growing up, you were often fighting her bullies on her behalf because she was a pacifist to the core; a terribly sensitive and somewhat reserved Cancer. She graduated from the same high school as you at 16, two years after you did. She graduated with her BFA in Fashion from North Carolina A&T, where she’d met her would-be husband and star Defensive Lineman for the Philadelphia Eagles, Braxton King. Professionally, She went by Issa Jenae, her two middle names. Though she and her family had just moved to Philadelphia from Boston, she spent most of her time in LA and New York. Nearly 85% of your dresses were designed by your sister. So, naturally, she was elated to design your Oscars dress.

Your sister was hanging the garment bag up on the closet door when you got back in. You were anxious to see the dress, as you had no idea what it was going to look like. When she asked you what you had in mind, you replied that you wanted something that was “subtly Wakandan”. With the help of Black Panther’s costume designer and Oscar nominee Ruth E. Carter, Farrah was able to make your wish shake. One of the advantages of having your twin sister design your dresses was that she’d knew you better than any other designer could. Your off-shoulder gown was fittingly inspired by the Jabari tribe with the purple and gold-threaded triangular pattern on the exterior and the gorgeous interior satin royal purple lining. The slit on the right side showed just enough of your thigh tat. Like the other dresses she’d made for you, it was customary for Farrah to hand-sew an insult of some sorts somewhere into the dress. Today’s insult: whore, sewn into the left side of the slit’s opening.

Being that it was one of the many inside jokes you two shared, you searched tirelessly for the insult. When you finally discovered it, you let out the ugliest sound as began laughing. “Bitch, you play too fuckin’ much. Whore? Really?”, you commented as you began unzipping the dress.

“Why not? I wasn’t the one sleepin’ with half of Black Hollywood, now was I?” You stared at her in pure disbelief. That raggedy bitch just airing your dirty laundry out there, but if the roles were reversed, she’d call your umi with the quickness. She was the true Cancer. “Exactly. I rest my case. Now go change, whore.”

You muttered some dirty words and passive aggressive wishes under your breath as you carefully slipped into your dress. Farrah zipped you up and spun you around to get a better look at her masterpiece of a dress. With your wig on and your shoes and accessories still needing to be put on, your transformation was almost complete.

You toyed with the idea of what kind of accessories you’d wear for tonight’s activities. Simplicity won you over for your picks. You wore three necklaces: a choker-like gold bar with “Khalida” written in Arabic, your everyday rose gold “K”, and your gold zodiac pendant. In addition to your 2nd engagement ring, a local Black jeweler allowed you to wear their oversized black fleur-de-lis cocktail ring (it was Mardi Gras season, after all) for the awards ceremony. In an unusual twist, you decided to wear a bracelet. This bracelet wasn’t just any other bracelet—it was a gold bracelet shaped as scissors (a shameless Us plug for your fiancé).To finish the look, you wore your cowrie shell and gold link anklets. You were ready to fuck that carpet up.

Once Maya-Elise finally laid the baby hairs on your half-up half-down Yaki blowout wig, you walked out of the pits of hair hell one last time. For the first time in history, you were ready before Winston. This never happened. Like...ever. Instead of seeing Winston, you were, however, greeted by your bonus family sitting in the living area of the suite.

“My daughter! Has Winston seen you yet?!”, Mama Cora remarked as you twirled for her.

“No, Coco, because for the first time ever, I’m the first one ready. You know this never happens. Wait—he didn’t dip, did he?”, you asked as you tried to peak at his door.

“Of course not! He wouldn’t ditch the most beautiful woman in Hollywood—not in his right mind,at least. I’d actually have to rough him up.”, Cindy joked.

You and Jacqui walked out to the suite’s main balcony take pictures for the ‘Gram. Six Vogue-worthy pictures later, Jacqui uploaded the photo set with “Dark-haired YAAncé” as the caption. You walked back into the suite to see a handsome thick figure with his back towards you. Winston was so wrapped up in his conversation with his barber Red that he didn’t realize that you’d been outside, yet alone beat him getting ready.

“I wonder what Yaa’s wearing tonight. She mentioned something about there being purple somewhere in the equation? I don’t know...I never know with that gyal of mine.”, he chuckled as he shrugged.

Red’s shoulders bounced in laughter. “I mean...why don’t you ask her? She’s right there.” Red looked around his solid physique to acknowledge your presence.

“How am I going to ask her if she’s not rea—”. Winston turned his head in the direction Red had pointed to. Noticing something different, he whipped around once more, this time, turning his whole body around towards you. The two of you stood maybe two feet apart, taking in each other’s ensembles and beauty.

You were in love with his low fade, especially after the Sisqo phase for the New Years Trip (there could be only one platinum blonde in this relationship). Red got him right for tonight. Then there was the tux. THAT. FUCKING. TUX. It didn’t help that he was already thicker than three-day-old oatmeal. His suit was just fitted enough. In true Winston C. Duke fashion, he couldn’t just wear a basic tux. Nope. Hell nawl. The jacket had white piping on the lapel and the pockets, along with two white bands on either arm. The pants had the white stripe going down either side. Surely, the ancestors wanted to see you cut up over your man and how delicious he was looking. As you undressed him with your eyes, you’d caught his little intentional lip bite and lick. It was subtle enough for only you to catch it.

You fanned yourself harder the closer you got up to him. Shit, that nigga was looking delicious. Winston and everyone else laughed at your speechlessness. Your mouth was totally agape and your head shook. You finally pointed your white coffin-shaped nail at Winston and looked around the room to make sure everyone else was seeing the same meal you were looking at.

“Are you gonna say something, K.D.?”, Winston asked as he closed your mouth and lifted your chin in one smooth motion with one finger.

“Baby...sweetheart...honey bunches...Chris baby…answer me this one question...”, you stammered.

“Yes?”

“Who the fuck told you...TO LOOK THIS FUCKIN’ GOOD?! LIKE, WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT AND THE PRIVILEGE?! THE NERVE OF YOU! THE ABSOLUTE UNMITIGATED GALL, THE NEGROSITY OF YOU, ON THIS 24TH DAY OF BLACK HISTORY MONTH AND 20TH ANNIVERSARY OF MY NATIONAL ANTHEM!”,you gassed, punching your hand and pointing your acrylic nails and clacking them against each other every which way for dramatic emphasis.

Winston doubled over in hysterical laughter, to the point of tears, at your response. “Wow, I must say, it does feel good to be on the receiving end of your gassing. I knew I had to come with it if I was going to be your date tonight. If I haven’t learned anything else about you in all these years of knowing you, it’s that no matter where you’re going, you’re gonna bring it. You’ve kinda forced me to step out of my usual tux zone and further into the world of high fashion...all without knowing what your dress looked like. I think I did pretty good, dontcha think?” He finally closed the gap between the two of you and held your small hands into his big hands.You rolled your eyes to keep from laughing. You weren’t going to give into that Gabe Wilson-level corniness.

“Ehhh...you did aight. Ion know who you tryna dress up for, but you cute or whateva.”, you said nonchalantly.

He lowered his voice to where only you could hear, “I must say that you, my dearest Khalida, the love of my life, are looking sublime right now. I don’t even care what you have in store for the after party look, I just know that in this very moment, I’d have you on this table if everyone weren't here.” You smirked.

“You know, I had the same thought about you when were eating lunch. I’m happy our freakiness is in tandem.”, you paused to look around the room, “Now let’s go and flex for the ‘gram, shall we?”

Everyone crowded both elevators to the lobby to get a full glimpse at the soon-to-be Duke’s. The lighting in the hotel’s courtyard was perfect—a studio could never.

“Alrighty...the lighting’s good here, love birds.”, Jacqui reported as she searched for the perfect late afternoon light. The two of you walked to the exact spot Jacqui deemed appropriate. He insisted that you walk before him, just so he could check you out from the back. He gazed in amazement as he noticed the highlight on your shoulders when the sun kissed them. The purple and gold in your dress both complemented your caramel skin. Winston bit his lip as all the thoughts of sin and lust bombarded his mind. God, you outdid yourself when you created her. He finally caught up to you and promptly rested his arm around your full waist, pulling you into him. The two of you stared into each other’s eyes, cameras or people be damned. As Jacqui caught the candid shots, the two of you whispered nasty sweet nothings into each other’s ear. After spending 20 minutes in the courtyard, Jacqui escorted you and Winston to the hotel’s service entrance, where their SUV was waited patiently for you all. As the two of you looked at the SUV, Winston squeezed your hand. “You ready, Dr. Abdullah?”, he asked as he looked down to you.

“When you are, Mr. Duke.”

The two of you shared three deep breaths before loading into the car, eager to show up and out for the Oscars.

I GOT THE TAGLIST IN THE BACK! @muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @eriknutinthispoosy-deactivated2 @whoramilaje @mbakusthrone @mbakuwife @crushed-pink-petals @supersizemeplz @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @jackburtonsays @randomwordprompts @bartierbakarimobisson @wakandan-flowerz @blackpantherreblogs @babygirlofwakanda @eerythingisshaka @washyourlinens @turn-thy-paige @doublesidedscoobysnacks @wakandas-vibranium @oceanscorazon @oshasimone @destinio1 @sonofnjobu @teheeboo @sarahboseman @iamrheaspeaks @chaneajoyyy @lovelynervouschaos @cay-cah @coonflix @katasstrophey @mareethequeen @jozigrrl @great-neckpectations @jellybean531 @yofavcocoa @storibambino @maya-leche @blackgirloneshots @royallyprincesslilly @texasbama @ljstraightnochaser @certifiednatural @abeautifulmindexposed

#dukeandthedoctor #winston duke x oc #winston x yaa

[allofthisnonsenseplease]

More R76 discord plotting with firesonic152. ^^

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 lol oh--had a quick prompt idea earlier: Jack as a gruff nurse at a hospital that caters to wounded vets. He was a field medic, but got sent home after an explosion that nearly killed him and left him scarred. Gabe is one of hte patients at the hospital, newly returned from the front and very prickly, though Jack catches glimpses of a passionate person beneath the face Gabe presents to the world.

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 OMG gabe gets along well with jack bc jack is too grumpy to care about stuff like pity or sympathy

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 ^^ they start up a stitch n bitch in the rec room

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 LOL jack is very good at ranting angrily about things which means there isn't that awkward dynamic of the nurse trying to start a conversation and gabriel having to decide how much info he really wants to share jack just. launches right into something and gabriel listens along

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 when Jack works doubles, he'll sometimes sneak in a nap next to Gabe's bed if he's really really beat, 'cause he knows Gabe'll chase people off if it's not an emergency.

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 omg QwQ

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 maybe sometimes when Jack gets too tired or stressed it begins to affect his vision, so it's important he rest when his body tells him he needs to

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 QwQ we need to contrive a reason for jack to sleep IN gabe's bed at one point >w>

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 someone stole all the chairs. XD maybe he goes to sleep in a chair, but wakes out of a nightmare and Gabe basically hauls him into bed and forces him to lay there and relax? like, not necessarily a panic-attack inducing nightmare, but just something sad

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 omggg and it's the first time gabe's seeing him sleep in an actual bed and he absolutely melts when he discovers how jack likes to curl up in a little ball

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 Jack totes wears dinosaur scrubs. like, the first thing he says when he meets Gabe--not even making eye contact with him--is just: 'don't let the dinosaurs fool you. i'm not nurse sunshine. here's your meds.'

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 OMG gabe instantly likes him

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 Gabe looks at this big, buff, scarred dude who is more interested in his chart than him, and asks 'That really something you get often enough that it has to be part of your greeting?' Jack finally looks at him and smiles very faintly. 'You would be surprised.'

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 arrow right to the heart gabe's already down

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 XD

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 just fuck him Right up

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 lol much much later on in this one, Jack comes in wearing owl scrubs, and before Gabe can ask, he's just: 'I needed a new set, and they were out of dinosaur ones.'

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 AWWWW gabe says "i was just gonna say owls are my favorite animal" with a tiny little smile jack knows. that's why he picked them god gabe

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 Jack knows. Gabe has mentioned this before. XD

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 LOL

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 lol whoops

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 >w<

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 Jack a little too roughly insists that that has NOTHING to do with it. Gabe swears that his cheeks went a bit pink before he booked it out of the room.

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 jaaaaaack

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 Gabe starts calling him Nurse Sunshine and Jack just grimaces every time and threatens to switch Gabe's meds if it catches on.

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 omgggg gabriel goes all flirty and says "okay how about just sunshine then because you're the light of my life" and jack straight up smacks him

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 XD Gabe, he has a carefully cultivated reputation to maintain here.

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 ..... HOLY SHIT NURSE JACKIE

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 -'.'- Sorry?

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 I THINK THAT'S A TERRIBLE TV SHOW ABOUT TERRIBLE PEOPLE I remember my mom watching it XDDD LOL YEAH it's a super like. depressing show about a nurse in a shitty hospital and she's always drinking and stuff well

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 haha no thanks :D

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 yeah not for me either ^^;

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 okay but--if Gabe got sent back for losing his legs, and he's in a wheelchair while he heals up before they get him prosthetics and into the rehabilitation exercises and what not--him and Jack fucking with each other. Gabe trying to run Jack down in the halls, Jack parking Gabe in a corner and sticking a door stop behind his wheels so he can't move the chair and Gabe's just shouting at him as he walks away 'JACK YOU FUCKING FOSSIL I AM A GODDAM WAR VET IF YOU THINK THIS IS GONNA STOP ME YOU GOT ANOTHER THING COMING I'LL CRAWL AFTER YOU AND BITE YOUR LEGS OFF SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT'

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 AHAHAHA he starts stealing lines from monty python JUST A FLESH WOUND JACK!!!!

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 He's got HUGE...tracts of land!

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 LOLLLLL jack: are you. flirting with me. through monty python

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 HAVE BEEN FOR A YEAR BUT THANKS FOR NOTICING

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 LOL

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 Jack is just: '...Gabe, I have a face like a pickax accident and I threaten your life almost daily. What the fuck, bro?'

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 XDD gabe gives jack flowers and jack just kinda stares at them and says "it feels pretty backwards for a patient to give a nurse flowers doesn't it"

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 he got Jack a balloon shaped like a brontosaurus, too. ^^

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 OMG

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 Jack puts the flowers in a vase in Gabe's room. Looks at him, and goes: 'I'm keeping the balloon.' and leaves.

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 EEEEE gabe sits back grinning. jack kept the balloon. mission accomplished.

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 and Jack left the flowers to be sure Gabe would have something cheery nearby. -^^-

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 THE FLOWERS WERE A DECOY!! awwwww!!

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 big ol' softie

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 does gabriel ever try the cheesy af "kiss it better" thing

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 I WOULD BE DISAPPOINTED IF HE DIDN'T ((also, momentary kinda sad suggestion--when Gabe is eventually discharged and gets to go see Jack's apartment, the place is pretty bland for the most part and lacks color and personality, but Jack's room is particularly dim and messy...except for the still-inflated dino balloon Gabe gave him which is sitting on top of his clothes chest.))

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 QOQ AHHHHH does jack get to move in with gabriel qwq

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 vice versa, prolly. Maybe Gabe doesn't have any family that can put him up, so Jack offers his couch while Gabe looks for a job and a place, but he just never ends up moving out bc they get together <3

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 <33333 and gabriel insists on brightening up the place

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 YES

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 hangs up pictures and paints walls and everything

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 the day he moves in, he brings Jack a whole herd of dino balloons

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 turns out he's very good at reupholstering furniture too awwww!!!!!

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 Jack is just: '...i can kill you in your sleep.' Gabe: Then who would refuse to put up with your bullshit? Here, go find them nests in your crap or whatever. Jack tries to not, but he can't resist.

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 qwq and when gabe initially moves in they're not quite boyfriends yet they kinda know they like each other but they haven't REALLY done anything yet

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 -^^-

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 and so boundaries and stuff are very confusing at first gabe sleeps on the couch (jack offers him the bed but gabriel insists) and it takes almost no time for gabe to move into the bed with jack

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 ((but but--the bed thing being an ice breaker. Gabe comes into Jack's room at dark o clock one morning and wakes Jack up and says 'Your couch is crap.' and Jack just grumbles back 'Couch store is closed.' Gabe doesn't move, so Jack sighs and lifts up a corner of the blankets and Gabe sits down & takes off his prosthetics to curl up and go to bed. He reaches out to pinch Jack's toes, and jokes 'Jesus, Jack, your feet are colder than mine!' Jack grumbles at him and reaches out to swat him, but it turns into something more like ruffling his hair as Gabe settles in. Turns out they're both cuddlers.))

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 AHHHHHHHHHH and jack did his napping in gabe's hospital bed before but it's not at all like this gabriel wants to kiss him SO badly but he can't tell if that's an okay thing to do yet

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 <3<3<3 Jack's all full of mixed signals in this one XD Oh! When Gabe gets back from his job the next day, there's an owl-shaped pillow waiting for him on the couch. Jack looks at him, then glances away. 'Just wanted to make sure you saw it,' he mutters and heads back for his room, leaving the door open. When Gabe comes in to put the pillow on the bed, Jack doesn't have any objections.

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 AHHHH CUTE

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 as thanks for all the dinosaurs -^^- jack doing his best to be sweet

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 BOY KISS HIMMMM hhhhh when do they kiss for the first time

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaai don't know o_o;;;

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 maybe jack is going off to work and gabriel is like "bye babe<3" and jack gives him that silent blank stare, gives him a quick peck on the corner of his mouth, and leaves

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 what if Jack keeps clumsily trying to return the affectionate gestures Gabe makes? Like, Gabe usually cooks, but Jack attempts to make them dinner one night, burns part of it, doesn't get one of the side dishes done till half an hour after everything else, burns his fingers, makes a mess of the kitchen and swears a bunch--fuck ups like that

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 omggg I LOVE THAT

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 and finally, Gabe is just: 'here, look, if you're trying to tell me something, let me see if I got the message.' and smooch

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 eeeeeeeeee

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 aaaaaaaaaaaaah!! Jack just out of the blue like that!!! XD Gabe was just kidding around and didn't expect the kiss!

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 I LIKE BOTH

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 SO DO I

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 maybe jack does that thing and then neither brings it up again. until gabriel goes in for the Real smooch

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 Jack does the thing, and Gabe rationalizes it as more of his twisted sense of humor, plus he was just coming off a double and there's no one at the hospital to be sure his sleep isn't interrupted anymore so he might ahve just been sleep addled there was that weird long pause just before. it was probably just another joke, right? RIGHT? meanwhile, the rest of Gabe's brain is setting off fireworks and popping champagne bottles maybe Gabe gets home from work that night and it's when Jack has made dinner and Gabe kisses him for realsies

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 QWQ

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 XD 'cause Jack fucked up the kiss, too!

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 DAMMIT JACK YOU SUCK AT THIS

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 everytime Jack tries to be sweet it comes of as at least slightly awkward

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 I LOVE THAT SO MUCH so does gabe apparently

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 XD he tries so hard, bless his heart

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 gabe has such heart eyes actual image of gabriel: :heart_eyes:

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 XD

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 NOTHING BAD HAS HAPPENED IN THIS ONE IT'S JUST BEEN SMOOTH SAILING START TO FINISH

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 uhm. gabe lost his legs

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 .... WELL YEAH BUT IF HE DIDN'T LOSE HIS LEGS HE WOULD HAVE NEVER GOTTEN MARRIED

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 YOU MISSED THE CHANCE FOR ANOTHER PYTHON REFERENCE HE GOT BETTER XD

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 LOLLLL NOOO!!! lmao imagine jack hadn't seen monty python and didn't get all the reference gabe was throwing at him he thought gabe was just saying nonsense so gabriel has to sit him down to watch it

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 eeeeeee!

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 he OOPS XD

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 also, also--when it comes time to propose, Jack gets the rings, but he just shoves the box at Gabe and says 'You do it' 'cause at this point both of them know he would fuck it up somehow. XD

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 kjadnadsjfnKJNDF CUTE

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 so Gabe gets to plan a big romantic proposal and Jack can just relax and accept

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 qWq also back to the monty python thing. gabriel spends the whole movie watching jack and is delighted when jack actually laughs at some of the jokes jack is such a stone faced bitch in this one LOL

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 !!!!!! <3<3<3 HE IS AND I AM GETTINGA  KICK OUT OF IT! XD

firesonic152 – 09/03/17 ME TOO

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/03/17 actually, we've had several lately I've really enjoyed. I need to go back and save these soon. ^^

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 >w< now i'm thinking about jack lovingly riding gabriel in this one lol bc gabe doesn't feel like wearing his prosthetics anymore, he wore them all day and his legs are achey and he just wants to lie in bed so jack settles on top of him and takes care of it

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 aaaaaaaaaaaaa jack crawls on top of him wearing his resting bitch face as he kisses all up Gabe's thighs and stomach and chest, right up to his lips and he just grinds against Gabe for a bit, then he sits back, and he's still all stone faced, but that starts to soften as he works himself open, and it disolves away completely as he takes Gabe in

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 EEEEEEEEEEEE gabriel is so gone. he falls in love all over again.

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 <3

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 and jack does that silent stare but this time his face is soft and open - not smiling, but relaxed and in love gabriel has to kiss him

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 he's so eager about it that Jack actually laughs--just a short huff of breath, really, but it goes straight to Gabe's heart.

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 gabriel is so ready to cry. "stop making me fall in love with you," he admonishes jack. "it's not fair"

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 'How is it not fair?' Jack sounds almost offended, and Gabe lets go just long enough to get a good look at his face and realize that what the awkward love of his life probably meant was: 'You do the exact same thing to me.'

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 AHHHHHHHHHHHH I'M DEAD THIS IS JUST NONSTOP SUGAR THIS IS LIKE.. FUCKIN PIXIE STICKS

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 =9 they're war vets. let them be happy.

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 GAHHHH I LOVE IT SO MUCH BUT MY IMPULSE IS TO BREAK IT STOP ME

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 ...break it how?

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 IDK WHY WOULD YOU ASK ME THAT NOW I WANNA COME UP W SOMETHING

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 last time i recall asking you to tell me one thing, you told me the opposite XD

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 XDDD the only thing i can see ruining this is jack's self-loathing tbh like after some particularly bad days he gets it into his head that gabriel deserves better and all that. but it's okay bc gabriel isn't scared of jack's attempts to drive him away!!

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 ah, so the colorful dino scrubs were a clever attempt to mask the crippling self loathing after all? XD

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 NATURALLY have you SEEN his apartment??

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 lol p sure i suggested it XD just wasn't sure how deep we wanted to go down that particular rabbit hole

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 yep XDDD jack tries very hard to convince gabriel to leave him but gabriel figures out very quickly what he's doing and just kinda shrugs it off not very effective!!

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 Jaaaaack. What are you doing? Ohhh...you know what? He really could get serious about that and kick Gabe out of his apartment. Like, he wouldn't do it unless he was sure Gabe was financially stable, I think, but that's an option.

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 ahhhhhhhh QoQ he does it after gabriel finally confronts him about trying to drive him away

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 SHIT HE'S ONTO ME

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 gabe is like "i see what you're trying to do jack but it's not going to work. i'm in love with you and i'm not going anywhere." and jack just kind of snaps in a fit of madness and tells him to get out.

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 ohhh jackie. if you weren't in a downward spiral before... =(

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 :(((((( gabriel has to go and stay with ana for a little bit

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 my brain is already trying to skip ahead to the make up argument XD

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 LOL i'm caught on the part where jack is spiraling in his dark empty apartment

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 oh dear what if Gabe keeps calling him? and, like, the only sound in there with Jack is the phone ringing. and he's curled up in bed with his arms over his ears and his fingers clenched in his hair, listening to it ring and hating himself for sending Gabe away and hating himself for not even being able to end that properly and hating himself for not wanting the phone to go silent and cut off that last, fragile connection. And also kinda hating himself for being too chickenshit to answer.

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 AKSJNFSAKJNF THAT HURTS

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 So he finally picks up, and Gabe starts talking, saying that they need to discuss this, but Jack just mumbles kinda tonelessly 'I'm not good enough for you.' and Gabe snaps back 'Who are you to say what's good enough for me??' and that starts to get a rise out of Jack, because he was there when Gabe was first brought in, and he saw him hurting and struggling and fighting and staying positive through it all and Gabe fucking shines. Jack wasn't hurt nearly as bed, but he's just a shut down shell of what he used to be. And he snaps back 'I'm your doctor' and almost hangs up, but Gabe is quick with his response. 'The hell you are! You're my friend Jack, and more than that if you'd stop letting your fears lead your life for you!' There's silence for a minute, before Gabe tries for a bit of their old humor. 'Besides, you're a nurse, not a--' Jack hangs up.

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 GABRIELLLL JAAAAAAAAAACK gabriel has to be jack's nurse this time!!! take care of him gabriel!!!!

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 lol Maybe Gabe starts hanging out in the rec room at the hospital or something?

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 ((side note: jack spends much of his time in bed curled around the owl pillow))

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 Gets a couple of the patients rooting for him. One of them lets him know when Jack has borrowed a spare bed for a nap, and Gabe goes to sit in and play watchdog like he used to.

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 awwwwwwww qoq

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 ((ohh Gabe left it for him ;u;))

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 omg jesse is there bc he lost his arm! he's gabe's best wingman!!

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 ((it was Gabe's favorite thing--he would bring it into the living room to hug it on the sofa when they watched stuff)) GO JESSE!! =D

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 Jesse is very good at figuring out where Jack is napping and tipping off Gabe

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 Jack wakes up one day and asks Gabe tiredly why he keeps following him around there. And Gabe's just 'Well, I could go home with you. I still have my key, you know.' He hasn't used it because he's not trying to take away all Jack's hiding places. 'Give it back,' Jack says, but there's no heat to the words, and he turns his face into the nest of his folded arms. 'Do you really want me to?' When Jack doesn't answer for a minute, Gabe tries a different question. 'Do you still have all those stupid balloons?' Jack nods. 'You looked pretty happy when I gave them to you. And I was pretty happy being able to give them to you. That's worth something, isn't it? Making each other happy?' 'I'm not--' 'Don't bullshit me, Jack. You saying I don't deserve to be happy?' Jack's head shoots up. 'No! You do! I--It's me that--' 'You make me happy, Jack. Let me do the same for you.'

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 KAJNCSXKJNAKSXJN QOQ YEAH JACK!!!! LET HIM BE HAPPY Jack huffs and retorts, "Am I making you happy now?" and Gabe says "Well not right at this very second but-" Jack cuts him off and says, "Exactly, Gabe, I do shit like this and I'm gonna hurt you even more." then gabe gets to give him a speech about how life is full of both happiness and misery and if you're gonna inevitably be miserable at some point, you might as well take what happiness you can get "Wouldn't you rather be miserable sometimes and happy other times than just being miserable all the time?"'Gabriel asks evenly, "I would."

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 ;u; gaaaaaaaabi

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 It does seem so simple when Gabe puts it that way. But Jack knows unending misery turns into white noise after awhile, just a numb blandness that settles over everything. It's more bearable than having happiness taken from you. It's like a white hot knife with serrated edges sawing out your lungs. It's so much easier to just accept a gray world. But.... Jack already knows before he makes his decision. It's worth it.

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 TTuTT atta boy jackie

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 cries Jack tries to have sex with Gabriel that night but they end up just snuggling

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 ohhhhhhhhhhhhh ;u;

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 He gets on top of Gabriel and starts grinding and stuff but he just,.. he just wants Gabe to hold him

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 did i ever send you the lyrics for Signal i the sky by Matt hires, 'cause it's good for this one. ;u;

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 omg you didn't!!

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/matthires/signalinthesky.html

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 I'M EMOTIONAL

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 TTuTT

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 hold him tight gabe qoq

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 and then, of course, lots of hard work coming to terms with emotional issues, but also lots more silly gifts and awkward but heartfelt reciprocation

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 qwq like uhhhh question for jack WHY ARE YOU SO SET ON EVERYTHING GOING BAD

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 um. dude? my friend? that was all you XD it was good. it was fine! XD

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 oh yeah oops

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 Jack was a grump, but it was all happy and sweet. XD

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 i mean, i guess you could have just had him get hit by a bus or go blind and have to cope with that.

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 oH MY GOD DUDE WE SHOULD DO THAT LOL

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 that second one in particular might cost him his job at the hospital, which is his livelihood and also something that makes him feel like he's still making a difference five times jack was miserable in this au bc one of the writers wasn't happy with the sweet version. XD

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 XDDD AND THE ONE TIME I LET IT SLIDE

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 lolololol i'm up for it, but i think more contributions from my end are gonna have to wait till tomorrow

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 yeah i'm tired too bed tiiiime

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 =u=

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 let the gay old men rest for now

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 let them watch over each others sleep ^^

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 >w< cuuute

SuspiciousPopsicle – 09/04/17 and with that sacchrine nonsense XD night night <3<3<3

firesonic152 – 09/04/17 <3333333 gn!!!!

#cornfuck and the reaper #R76 plot ideas #reaper76 #Jack loving dinosaurs is honestly one of my fave hcs

[eeejay-blog1]

Good morning world and all who inhabit it

Okay I’m about 24 hrs post op now and I think I feel a lot better than yesterday. My head still feels a Snorlax high on opium but I think I’m getting a little tolerant to the meds now, so I can actually form complete sentences and shit without laughing or falling asleep mid-word.

Well since I’m semi-coherent, let’s run a systems check:

HEAD: Hoo boy. Even through all these drugs, I can tell there’s a bitch of a headache trying to cut through. It feels like the times I’ve tried to kick caffeine, but instead of only hurting when i move around or look at something bright, it’s a constant searing. They’re finally moving my bed up from flat, going like 10 degrees every couple hours, so hopefully it’s just my brain adjusting back to equilibrium.

THROAT: I haven’t seen a breathing tube the entire time I’ve been here, but I can tell they used one on me for the op. How, you ask? Well it feels like I deep throated an eggplant made out of concrete. Don’t ask how I know what that feels like, it’s poetic. 

BACK: The incision itself isn’t unbearable, it’s a bit like one bee that keeps stinging. The issue is, occasionally it flares up, and instinctively I’m like “stop laying on it bruh that’s why it hurts” so I try and arch my back or scoot around. Then all the muscles above it and in my shoulders are like “you know what would be funny? spasming” and everything gets super tight, pulling on the stitches and generally feeling fucking awful. Also, I’ve slept the same exact way every night for 22 years up until now: on my left side, slightly curled up like fetal position, one arm under my pillow, knees not touching. I literally can’t fall asleep unless I’m in that position. Well, the drugs make it easier to sleep for sure, but I still want to turn the fuck over. My neck can’t handle this straight shit forever.

STOMACH: Give. Me. Some. Damn. Food. The nurses said they have to wait until I fart until I’m allowed to eat (is that honestly written in a medical textbook somewhere? or are they just fucking with me) which is absolute torture because Nan brought a whole tray of baked mac n cheese and a pizza from a local place back home and like my stomach can sense that they’re nearby. Furthermore, pre-op, with the help of a lot of fiber and a little bisacodyl, I usually shit once every couple days. Add all this oxycodone into the mix though, and I honestly have no idea how long it’ll take. If Nan’s food goes bad before I can eat it, I’ll consider suing for malpractice.

LEGS: This is the weird part. It’s like they want to move, but I don’t want them to. But I actually do. I don’t know. Okay, I can tell they’re there; there’s a lot of twitching, and bubbly and itchy sensations, and I wanna stand up and shake it all out, but when my brain sends the message to the muscles to move together, the volume’s turned down. So like, if I say “hey thighs, let’s pick this foot six inches off the bed” they reply “best i can do is one inch, anything beyond that is spasms”. Nurses say the PT is gonna start working on those once I’m sitting around 45 degrees.

SKIN: Ugh. Maybe it’s the steroids, or maybe it’s just laying in the same bed for a whole day, but I’m so oily I feel like a slug. I need a long ass shower and some moisturizer fucking ASAP

JOHNSON: Well, I can tell there’s a catheter in there. I can tell it feels like it’s waaaay too big a size. I can tell my bladder still has spasms every so often, even though it’s not getting full. Combine those 3 sensations, and just about every half hour my body’s like “oh yeah bud don’t forget there’s still all this bullshit stuck inside ya” and it feels like its trying to FORCE OUT THIS FULLY INFLATED BALLOON which is understandably absolute hell

Despite all of the above, I’m honestly not as anxious as I thought I’d be. Like, I have sensation everywhere as far as I can tell, and every muscle that I try to move at least responds a little bit, even if it’s just twitching more than at baseline. The only fears that haven’t been entirely put to rest are a) my bladder can empty sans-catheter b) my bowels are functional at all and c) my woody the woodpecker can still woodpeck. 

The doc came by again this morning (I feel bad, I think he’s literally been telling me the same things every time and I’ve just been forgetting so I ask the same questions) and essentially said it went as smooth as it could. The scar tissue had grown pretty far beyond where the old surgical site was, but they zapped as much as they could, made a much smaller hole than last time (essentially they took a little tube like a gauge for a pierced earlobe, and drilled it through my poor ol’ L4 vertebra, so the hole is only about 10mm) and closed it up with Goretech (Goretex? Gore something) so less will grow this time. A few “rootlets” from S2 level were caught up in the mess, but they hadn’t really bonded so much as they just twisted up, so he gives me his word that all they took out of me or zapped into nonexistence was scar tissue. All my nerves are still there, in the right order, and according to the electro-monitoring stuff they did during the op, there was at least some response when each one got stimulated, even though some had a very faint signal.

Well, that’s about as good of news as I can ask for at this point.

[omgnsfwisnsfw-blog]

Game #7: I’m Bad

The ring gave a noise somewhere between a clatter and a creak as Mike McGuire flopped to the canvas, panting. They had been doing solo workouts for the past hour and their black and green ringwear was quite damp- half from sweat and half from the bottle of water or two they’d drenched themselves with to cool down. Propping their chin in one hand, they looked across the yard toward the garden. A small plot of assorted flowers centralized around an orange Voodoo rosebush at the beginning of the summer, the garden had grown substantially since to include not only more flowers, but fruits and vegetables as well. A small patch of strawberries yielded a steady output of plump red berries, a few heads of leafy green cabbage were coming along nicely as were green beans, snap peas, and, Mike assumed, a row of carrots. Right now, the garden’s tender was seeing to several stakes of tomatoes, the bountiful crop a deep ruddy orange in the early summer sunlight. “Hey. Church. Gimme one of those, wouldya please?” He paused in his inspection of the leaves for any signs of beetles, turned to his partner slightly, and shook his head with a small smile. “They’re not ripe.” “C’mon, I don’t care, they look juicy as shit and I’m thirsty.” They pouted, but John was unmoved. “You’ll get sick. They’ll be ready in a few days.” He turned back to his work, putting a wordless finality on the subject. Mike groaned a bit and rolled to the side, snatching a half full bottle of Gatorade off the ring steps as well as their GoPro. There was a third object stowed to the side as well- a classic black and white mottled composition notebook neatly labeled ‘DAKOTA JENNINGS’. As with every other opponent they’ve ever had, John had used his keen observational skills and insight to keep a well documented record of the Firecracker, and had even made a few updates as pertaining to the match they’d had with her and her partner at Rite of Kings. Mike frowned sourly as they thought of it, rubbing the back of their head. They’d been lucky not to need stitches or come away with a concussion, but the spot where the chair had made contact was still sore even days after the fact. They’d had it. The Chimera Tag Team Championships were in their grasp, and ReKota had known it too. So out came the filthy tactics and steel chairs and at the end of it all, before Bishop Church could even see what was going on, Mike McGuire had hit the canvas and been rolled up for three. The ovation from the crowd, while appreciated, didn’t take away the sting as much as they would have liked. That had been that. And Mike was still angry at themself for it. Angry, and raw, and not just because of the screwy loss- because of what had played out on Twitter afterward. A typical snarky back and forth banter had ended ugly, and Mike wasn’t even sure that Cross or Dakota were aware of just how cruel what they’d said was. How could they? It’s not like Mike advertised the ugliest parts of their past. Huffing out a breath through their nose, Mike took a deep glug of the Gatorade- not, they sulkily thought, a juicy garden-fresh tomato- and wiped their mouth on the back of their hand, setting the GoPro across from them and clicking the record button on. You know, people say stupid stuff on Twitter all the time. The whole platform is made of people’s stupid comments, after all. I’m hardly immune either. Which is why 90 percent of what you jokers say on that thing doesn’t bother me. Hell, bantering back and forth with you and your… boyfriend? Fiance? Eh, it doesn’t matter. Anyway, it’s actually kinda fun. And then you went and ruined that. Let me let you in on something. You’re not the first people to tell me I have a hittable face. You’re not the first to tell me I’m about to get my face caved in. Let me tell you, Jennings, you and Reboca don’t want to be in the same league as that person. I doubt even you are that low. “Fuck.” Mike had clicked the GoPro off and was staring at it. That was stupid. The specter of Steve Archer hadn’t been exorcised half as much as Mike would have liked. A couple of sleepless nights prior had made that perfectly clear. Just thinking about it made Mike almost want to call out across the yard and have John join them for a little bit, hold onto him until they felt safe. But they were stronger than that, right? Besides, they had that… that one thing they couldn’t keep putting off. John was going to need them for support, not the other way around. Mike would be fine. They always were in the end. Reaching forward, they picked up the GoPro and erased what they just recorded, as if those words had never existed. Goodbye. They closed their eyes and took a few deep breaths. Felt their old reliable steel slide into place. No, there was no sense showing vulnerability where it wasn’t necessary. Dakota, whether on Cross’ direction or her own volition, would eat that shit alive. It’d be like a drop of blood in a tank full of starved great whites. They turned the camera back on and set it across from the ring, starting again in earnest with  that big sharkish smile. “So. How about Rite of Kings, Valor Pro faithful? Crazy as fuck, wasn’t it? I mean, Jesus Fuck, did Spiral vs. Aoki nearly make you hurl, too? Shit was fucking insane. Sure hope they catch that pale stickyfingered fucker- after all that, Aoki deserves that strap. I mean, I like the Zombies. They’re weird, but they’re my kind of weird. Cosmo Cooper… STILL has that Apex Championship, which I’m sure has Cross Reboca’s underwear in all kinds’a fuckin’ knots. Oh. And speaking of…” Mike’s face went utterly sour then, one hand combing sweat-damp hair out of their eyes. “Ya boys got beat. But it weren’t for lack of trying, Faithful, and it weren’t for lack of cheating on ReKota’s part. I mean, you all saw it, yeah? And if you didn’t, feel free to check out a summary on YouTube. I’ll wait.” The Bronx Brawler paused a moment, twisting their wrist as if looking at a watch. “Yeah, there, you see what I’m talkin’ about? This close. Just a fuckin’ hair, and all of the sudden Jennings and Reboca devolve into their cheap fuckin’ ways because at the end of the day? They know they can’t win fair against a team like me and Church. And it was a damn shame because we were actually having a good time. But, one thing led to another. Broken up pin, then a wallop to the back of my head, and good ol’ N-S-F-Dubs come out of our first Valor Pro Wrestling pay-per-view empty handed.” Tisking and shaking their head, Mike gave a sigh. “Which leads us to here. I’m going solo this week. Me vs. Dakota. And I got all this shit running through my head like a fuckin’ freight train about it. Lots to unpack, so let’s start with bitches talkin’ shit, shall we? Any idiot can talk shit these days. You just get yourself a Twitter account and start running your fool mouth, regardless of whether you got anything fucking relevant to say or even if you know what the blue hell you’re talking about. My opponent this week is no fucking exception. If she knew what the hell she was talking about, she’d know that the last thing my partner is is a ‘meathead’. But I digress.” They snorted, and in spite of themselves cast a look off camera that caused their expression to soften slightly. It’d be missed if you happened to blink, though, because a split second later had Mike facing forward once again, a cool smirk on their face. “Between calling herself our ‘daddy’ and calling me a fucking drunk, Dakota Jennings is proving herself to be just another internet tough guy who thinks they’re ten feet tall with their dick hanging in the dirt. Least, they were until Church said something in particular that seemed to sting a little. My partner, in his infinite wisdom, pointed out that your tendency to go all El Fucking Kabong on people when the chips are down was compensating for a lack of, y’know, any real fucking talent. And at that point, Jennings had a major case of e-cock shrinkage and started whining that such an accusation was ‘hurtful and untrue’.” That smirk began to grow into something distinctly more vicious. “Methinks the lady doth protest too fucking much. Now, I’ve done my homework. I know all about you. And I could sympathize. It fucking sucks to bust your ass and not have anybody take notice. There’s a few ways to tackle that problem constructively, none- I’ll repeat to get it through your skull, NONE- of them involve cracking skulls with wild abandon. But that’s what you did. That’s what you keep doing. And now? I think you’ve been relying so much on the chairs that you don’t know how to get by without them. Now, I challenged you to leave your folding steel special at home. And you said you would. But I don’t fucking believe you, Jennings. Why should I? Why would our little date in Peru be any different than the past few weeks?” Mike rolled their shoulders and tipped their head to the side twice, cracking their neck. “On the other hand, maybe this wouldn’t be the match you’d want to fucking ditch your only real advantage in. Do you know who I am? Have you done your homework like I have? In case you haven’t got yourself out from under Cross’ dick for the last few days, let me educate you. My name is Mike McGuire. I’ve trained at the feet of King Race himself. I’ve gone at people wrapped in barbed wire. I’ve dropped big hairy bitches fuckin’ thrice my size with a single punch. I am one half of the greatest pure tag team of this generation, and if I’m bragging about all this? I’m still being fucking sincere.” Suddenly, Mike’s expression darkened. They leaned forward, their tone gaining something borderline ominous. “I can play fucking dirty if I have to, Jennings. I relish that shit. You’ve been in that ring with me, you know what I can do with backup. You won’t be able to tag out this time, though. You won’t have anywhere to run. But I double dare you. Break your word and go for that fucking chair. Do that, Jennings, and you will be one fucking sorry bitch, because I ain’t gonna play that shit twice. You slither one more cheap victory against me out of your ass and your rich little boytoy is gonna be pushing you to the next show in a fucking wheelchair. See you in South America, Firecrotch.” Their harsh expression remained on their face, even as they reached forward to click off the camera. Mike leaned back against the ropes, letting out a long exhale. Perhaps, they thought, they shouldn’t show John that one. They were pretty sure he wouldn’t approve of the violent threats that they’d dropped. But the thing was? Mike meant every last word. They were as sick of Dakota’s shit as they imagined Ms. Byrne was, but Mike didn’t have the power to fire anyone. They did, however, have the power to do horrible things to people. Things they hoped it wouldn’t come to, but couldn’t make promises it wouldn’t. Sighing, they rolled over, laid on their stomach in the shade of the spreading maple, and watched John tend his garden with a tender affection they almost envied.

#Location: Home #Singles Match: Mike