#had that happen to just like writin at my own pace

[maskyartist]

tonight on 5am thoughts from an adhd insomniac : i might make an rp account again....kinda miss doin it >3>

#masky says #but like only kinda #last time i did it was the start of the cuphead fandom and MAN #was that a mess and a half #itd probably be multimuse tho i got a lot of characters i like to write for #only fear is people constantly messaging me asking for replies #like bestie i got a life outside of rp #had that happen to just like writin at my own pace

[curlycarrion]

Popsicles

Reader: gn reader

Warnings: nsfw but nothing too bad. More suggestive than anything actually happening

MDNI

Context: When walking through town the both of you decide to get something sweet

Wc: 2.1k

A/n: Howdy y'all! I'm relatively new to writin and decided I wanted to give it a shot. This is my first fic so I hope y'all like it

It was a rather nice spring day on the island that you had found yourselves docked at. A cool breeze blowing by occasionally with the faint scent of flowers carried along with it while it kissed your skin with each pass, fresh grass having sprung up from it's winters sleep and swaying calmly in the wind, and the sun shining overhead with a spare cloud occasionally passing in front of it. It really was a nice day for exploring what the island had to offer.

Most of the crew had broken off into their own groups to do what they liked in this nice little break from the sea. Luffy running of to decimate the local food population, Nami and Robin meandering through the streets of the town looking for anything that may catch their eye, and you tagging along with Sanji as he decides to walk through the local markets for any new ingredients or spices to collect or try. Making idle chat between shops to occasionally fill in the silence, not that you really needed to. The rare silence actually being a welcome change of pace from the typical noise and banter the crew seems to create wherever they go. The silence wasn't the only benefit of this little trip of course. The trip gave you an opportunity to watch Sanji while he's not in a state of falling over himself whenever any pretty little thing walked by or working to fill the stomachs of the crew. No this was a moment where you could watch him calmly go about his day. The tall man seeming almost like a normal person while he appraises the wares of each market on the street you stop at. No sign of annoyance in a furrowed brow from the captain's yelling and antics or the swordsman's bickering and fights, no shows of the superior strength or abilities you've seen him demonstrate with ease countless times, and no cupped hands quickly brought to his nose in an attempt to keep blood from running down his chin to his throat.

Instead it was just Sanji, sweet kind-hearted Sanji. The man who puts his friends and loved ones first even if it means he gets hurt in the process. The man who could easily snap someone like a twig without breaking a sweat that handles his cooking and the women in his life with a gentle care that'd lead you to believe he was handling the most fragile glass. The man who was, most of the time, always dressed so nicely you'd think he was prepared for a fancy dinner or date at anytime.

"Y/n? Are you ready to go?" The sound of his voice quickly breaks you from your thoughts. Realizing you had zoned out while he was talking to the merchant and hadn't noticed him trying to grab your attention for a few moments.

"Oh right yeah, yeah sorry my thoughts were elsewhere." You apologize with a smile as you begin to follow along when he begins down the street. Noticing how he seems to have shortened his steps a little to slow down his pace so you don't have to walk quickly to keep up. The smoke from his cigarette trailing lazily behind him with each step. Managing to move your lingering eyes from the tall man beside you to observe your surroundings. The stalls of the markets filling the air with various scents and sounds that cover the smell of spring in their vicinity. Most of the fragrances coming from a little further down where there's various people selling street foods, baked goods, and snacks in general that leave you with a thought of grabbing something for yourself.

"Would you like to get something mon cheri? You deserve a treat for choosing to accompany me when you could've spent time with Nami and Robin instead." He offers with a sweet smile, almost as if sensing a rise in your interest in the idea of food. Looking around your surroundings you spot a little stand in the distance selling frozen goods, feeling a sweet tooth pop up at the prospect of something cold and sweet on the spring day.

"You say that like I need a reward for spending time with you, getting something sweet is just a bonus." You tease lightly as you take his hand and happily lead him over to the stand, not noticing the smile that comes across his face at your touch and the words that had left you. Letting you lead him along to the stand before paying for your choice of popsicle while ignoring your protest.

"Now what kind of a man would I be if I let you pay for your own dessert?" He asked rhetorically as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze as it was still wrapped in his. Taking the opportunity he finds a spot a bit away from the busy streets of the market to rest and enjoy the frozen treats you had gotten in peace. Sitting under the shade of a tree on the soft grass as you both settle and lean against the trunk.

"Sanji yours is going to melt before you end up finishing it." He blinks a couple times as he registers your words before quickly turning to his own dessert that had sat in his hands forgotten. Right he had something of his own.

"It's a lovely day today," He comments idly with a calm smile gracing his features as he continues with a sweet tone "perfect for enjoying with equally lovely company." He steals a glance over to you after speaking while taking a bite of his sweet before nearly choking on it. Seeing you beside him licking a stripe up the side of your popsicle before sucking on the tip of it with a pleased hum at the flavor.

"You're too sweet Sanji, if anyone's the lovely company here it's you." The words fall on deaf ears as he finds his focus set more on the movement of your tongue and lips as you take the treat into your waiting mouth once more. Watching the brightly colored dessert disappear between your lips and swallowing in tandem with you when he sees the movement of your throat when you swallow the fluid that had melted in your mouth. Unable to help but imagine other situations in which your mouth would move in a similar manner. Feeling heat begin to rise to his ears and the familiar twitch down below at the thoughts beginning to form in his head. Unsure of how long he had been lost in thought for until you turned your eyes up to him beside you. Seeming unknowingly innocent of what you're doing to him as you slowly pull the popsicle from your mouth and lick your lips. Clearly able to see the color staining your tongue from the bright flavoring when you point to his hand.

He feels a small wave of guilt wash over him for a moment at being lost in lewd thoughts of you, though a small part of him can't help but want to see more. Caught in an internal battle between the two as he chastises himself while simultaneously replaying the image in his head. Resuming in eating his dessert as an attempt of a distraction from the tantalizing sight beside him. This is his friend after all. He shouldn't be having these thoughts while you sit right next to him, naively pushing the popsicle deeper into your mouth after you'd finished speaking. Blissfully unaware of how much the sight of your lips wrapped around the sweet treat made his composure crack and the blood threaten to sting his nose. How he manages to keep the blood in he doesn't know. Wanting nothing more than to pull you close and taste the flavor to see what made you so glad to invite it so deeply into your mouth without a second thought. To see if you'd react the same way if it was replaced with something of his own. If you'd just as happily sink your pretty lips down around him if given the opportunity, maybe even happier to do so. Maybe you'd be shy about it. Careful in your movement as you look up at him with doe eyes for approval.

God he needs to stop thinking about this. Each thought gets him closer and closer to cracking and possibly doing something he'd regret. He'd never hurt you of course, god no he wouldn't even dream of it. If he had the opportunity to even touch you in a more than friendly manner he'd treat you like royalty having come down from the heavens themselves, something greater than himself that he'd gladly get on his knees and worship to. You deserved nothing less as someone who sends his heart souring with just a smile sent his way. No he needed to stop his thoughts so he didn't accidentally push you away.

You were his own angel. A dear friend. Someone who brings both joy and calm to his life with each breath you take. He can't ruin this with his own lustful desires that simmer just beneath his skin and threaten to boil over with each sinful swipe of your tongue. Watching what isn't currently buried into the warmth of your mouth begin to melt and drip down in-between your fingers and palm as it reaches the inside of your wrist. Feeling his control hanging by a thread, a single rapidly fraying thread that snaps at your next movement. Noticing the dripping you remove the half gone popsicle from your mouth and bring your wrist up. Eyebrows furrowing disapprovingly at the sticky sensation between your fingers as you tongue moves to clean the juice moving down your wrist.

"You taste divine mon cœur, surely you'd make anything sweeter with just your touch. I hope you don't mind me tasting more." He compliments with a smile that looks both flirty and genuine. His eyes locking onto yours as his tongue wraps around your fingers before dipping between them in a lewd gesture that sends your heart hammering against your ribs. While he had flirted with you before, frequently in all honesty, this was a whole new level that the both of you had yet to reach until now.

Sanji moves without thinking, the possible consequences that might arise the furthest thing from his mind as he grabs your hand. Leaning close to you as his lips meet the inside of your wrist in a short and soft kiss, watching your eyes grow wide at the sudden movement as his tongue tastes the flavor sticking to his lips. Realizing what he did he goes to let go with a rapid apology for his behavior before stopping when he looks at you. Not seeing any disgust or anything negative in your expression or eyes, no. No you were surprised, your attention was on him, and most importantly.. you didn't pull away.

Feeling a small surge of confidence he decides to test the waters. His tongue coming out once more to follow the sweet colored line left behind from your wrist to your palm. Happy to find your surprise growing along with a flustered expression joining your features.

"S-Sanji?" You manage to squeak out in a slightly stammered voice. Clearly unexpecting of the action as heat quickly crawls to your cheeks and ears. Pleased by your reaction he decides to continue in his ministrations both to see how far he could go with this and for his own desires. A quiet groan rumbling from his chest at the taste of the popsicle combined with your skin.

The feel of his facial hair against the skin of your hand. Those grey-blue eyes staring dead straight into your own almost daring you to look away as he drinks in your every expression. And his lips parted to make room for the wetness of his tongue to travel across your skin in a manner that sends your thoughts to a similar trajectory of his own. It was a sight that seared into your mind, making you suck in a sharp breath and and ache to pool in your lower stomach. While you hadn't known how you had affected him and what had caused him to suddenly become so bold he was well aware of what he had done to you. Knowing exactly what affect his purposeful movement had done from the look on your face.

One thing became crystal clear at the end of the day, and that is that you'd both be the death of each other.

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #one piece sanji x reader #op x reader #one piece imagine #one piece #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #one piece fanfiction

[detailsan]

just good friends ❆ song mingi

word count: 2k

pairings: mingi x gender neutral reader

genre: angst, fluff

summary: you and mingi have been friends with benefits for a long time. he came to you when he wanted to have some fun and sleep with someone that wasn’t his members. you never thought he felt something else until he leaves you hanging when you mention a date with someone else.

warnings: angst that turns into fluff, very (very) bad writin (like, really, english isnt my first language and i didn’t write anything for the past months, i’m sorry)

a/n: hey! thanks for requesting! it was really challenging to do something like that after so long without writing anything. hope you like it! tell me if you see any grammar mistakes or anything like that ❀

"what's the movie pick for tonight?" mingi asked, sitting on your new couch that he helped you buying. he crossed his legs, grabbing a popcorn basket and settling it between his legs.

"i was thinking about watching a new drama, actually" you answered, sitting next to him and putting your head on his shoulder while grabbing your smarthphone to find the drama's name. "it's been a while since we've watched one together."

he chuckled, tilting his head a little to let it rest on yours. "romantic, are we? watching a drama together. almost like a date." you scoffed, a little smile forming on the corner of your lips,  elbowing him. "ouch! what was that for? you were the one suggesting this!"

"i never said it was a date!" you squealed, your voice cracking and making him laugh heartly.

"fine, but you didn't say you don't wanted it to be one. it's about time for us to make it official, don't you think?" putting the popcorn aside, he sat up straight, looking at you with fondly eyes. those eyes that reminded you of that one cute emoji. those eyes that would never keep your breath steady and normal. those eyes that would never fail to make you kiss him.

you leaned closer, forgetting about the netflix catalogue you had opened just now. forgetting about everything around you. he cupped your cheeks, gently placing a sweet kiss on your lips. it felt like heaven. it always did.

losing yourself on his lips, you made your way to put your hands on his neck, softly caressing it and moving up to his hair, his beautiful and soft red hair you loved so much. the red hair that also reminded you why you couldn't make things official between you two. he wasn't allowed to date. he was an idol, after all.

you tried to set yourself free from his touch, but he wouldn't let you. putting his hand on your waist, he leaned you back onto the couch, making you lay down while adjusting himself between your legs to make things more intimate. you melted into his lips again, feeling how soft they were. at that moment, they tasted like cherry. maybe it was because he had a lollipop when he arrived, but it made you want to kiss him more. and more. and more.

when things got more intense, he broke the kiss, panting. you looked at him smiling, but it looked more like an apologetic smile. you pushed him away with your hands on his chest, making him sit back while looking at you stand up.

"what's wrong?" he asked, lips swollen because of the kiss.

"i thought we were supposed to watch a drama?" you laughed, walking through the living room to grab the controller and made your way back to the couch, sitting again and turning the tv on.

"i would rather kiss you, though." he said, pouting, sitting back straight.

it was silent after that. you two decided to watch "holo, my love". it wasn't the best choice. romance were never the best choice when it comes to you two. one episode seemed to last forever. sighing, you heard your phone ring and the screen lit up. mingi couldn't help but look at who it was. donghoon? who is that?

"who is that?" he asked out loud, making you jump a little in your seat. you thought he was actually watching the drama, not looking at your phone.

"a guy i met at the coffee shop. we talked a little and he seemed pretty sweet" you said casually, not bothering too much to talk about it. you were just friends after all. mingi came to you when he was feeling bored or wanting to smooch a little, and you came to him for the same reason. no big deal, right? you were just messing around. so why was mingi looking at you with an angry yet disappointed look, like you've just cheated on him?

"are you two a thing or something?" he asked, his voice a little lower and angrier that it was normally.

"not yet, no" you shook your head "but we could be, you know? he invited me to dinner. tomorrow."

"and you're going?" he asked, almost scoffing. he seemed pretty upset and you didn't quite understand why.

"yeah. he's going to pay, so it's free food, and you know, maybe we can actually work things out and be together. i've been single for so long, jesus" you said, chuckling, but he didn't seem to happy about it "what's wrong? why are you staring at me like that?"

"you're unbelieavable" he said, standing up and throwing the popcorn basket onto the living room table, walking to the door and putting his shoes on.

"what? mingi, where are you going? we didn't even finish the drama-" he cut you off by slamming the door behind him. he was gone. "-yet."

it has been a week by now. mingi didn't talked to you at all the whole week, he wouldn't answer your texts or calls. he didn't even opened the kakao app for the week. you tried contacting hongjoong and seonghwa, and both of them told you that mingi was doing just fine and that he probably didn't answer you because he was tired because of practice. but you knew that it wasn't true. even when they debuted and had a really hard time, mingi still found time to talk to you and visit you. but now he just didn't. and you missed him like hell.

you didn't understand what you did wrong. you were sure that he didn't feel nothing towards you. you were just close friends, and he came to you whenever he needed a stress relief. it could be anyone else, but he choose you. and you two were fine with that, just messing arround, cuddling up at night together before he had to leave early for practice, making out on the couch while you were supposed to watch something together. it always went like this. he didn't make it look like it was something else, and you know that your feelings for him should be buried deep down on a graveyard, because you couldn't date an idol. you couldn't date an idol like him, that was just on his way to being really famous. you didn't want to ruin his dream. yet, he seemed to ruin yours. ever since he left, you couldn't sleep anymore, and when you did, you had nightmares. you where anxious, and it made you feel like  you weren't going to see him anymore. if only he talked to you about this...

not wanting to deal with this alone anymore, you decided to pay a visit to san. he was your closest friend, besides mingi, and you knew that even if mingi was mad at you, san was going to help you out. he wouldn't ever turn his back to you. even if he was really mad, you always managed to crack a smile from him  and make him give up on the "i'm mad at you" act.

you made your way to kq's building, with some coffee in hands. one for you, one for san. passing through the security, the doorman offered you a smile, which you returned not-so-happily. even him could tell that something was wrong, and he didn't even know you that much. you sighed, going into the elevator and pressing the button to go to the 2nd floor, where san would probably be practicing.

hearing his voice as soon as the door opened confirmed your thoughts. he was singing along to some bts' song and footsteps were heard all over the place. you made your way to the room, opening the door and making your friend look at you with wide eyes.

"god, you scared me" he laughed, coming to hug you. you hugged him back, handing him the coffee. "thanks, i actually needed one, i'm exhausted" he smiled again, sitting on the ground and motioning for you to sit with him "what's wrong?"

"wha- how- nothing's wrong i just came to visit" you said, looking down at your own hands.

"oh come on y/nie~ i know something's bothering you. you never show up unnanounced like this when everything's fine" he took a sip on his coffee, playing with his hair.

"ya! that's not true" he looked at you, not buying it at all. you sighed. "fine. there's something bothering me. mingi-"

when you were about to start talking, you heard the door crack open. you saw all the boys entering and waving at you. all of them but mingi. mingi was focused on his phone and didn't even acknowleged you in there until hongjoong came to hug you and cheerfully said your name. that's when mingi's head snapped up. he was, to say at least, surprised that you came after him on his workplace.

"i-i... i forgot my wallet on the restaurant. sorry. gotta go." the red haired guy said, leaving the room the same way he entered. you sighed.

"i don't care about what happened, but you came here for a reason." that was seonghwa saying behind you, making you look at him with lost eyes. "go after him."

"yeah. you came here to rant with me but you also came to see him" san said, taking another sip "go find him. you two need to work it out. whatever 'it' is"

you sighed, nodding your head. leaving the room, you still could see mingi on the hall, waiting for the elevator. you knew he didn't actually forgot his wallet. he just needed a reason to leave and not actually talk to you. you quickened your pace, meeting him before the door closed.

"i can see you can't quite understand between the lines" he said, visibly exhausted.

"i do. but i can't let you go again without talking about what happened" he remained silent, and the time seemed to slow down. you weren't quite sure of what you should say. you didn't know what to say. but you needed to do so if you wanted him to talk to you. "i didn't go."

"what?" he asked. he didn't hear you.

"i didn't go to the date. i stayed home that night. and the night after. and all the days since you left my house without an explanation."

he nodded silently before breathing deeply. "i shouldn't have left that way. i was just so angry. so angry that..." you looked at him, waiting for him to continue. "why couldn't you realize that i was here all the time? that i was the one having to hold my breathe and try to control my heart pace whenever we cuddled to sleep? that, all this time, i was the one looking for your attention. all this time i was waiting for my heart to stop beating because when i am with you i almost can feel it burning. you're giving me a heart attack, both in the good and the bad meaning." he sighs, defeated. "it was so hard to not think about you this week and not having my heart beating fast for other reasons than practicing. i was... i am. so angry"

you couldn't say anything. you did understand and process every word he said, but you couldn't answer it. not with words.

that's why you crashed your lips onto his. he took a while to process it, but didn't waste any more time to put his right hand on your waist, while the left one where on your jaw, pressing it gently. you almost forgot you were on his company, but you were welcomed with 7 boys cheering on you when the door opened.

"i'm so glad we decided to call the elevator up, because if you ended up kissing like that on another floor you would be on serious trouble" yeosang said, laughing.

you laughed as well. and mingi did the same. it felt like home. finally things were the way they were supposed to be.

“i’m still mad at you, though” he whispered on your ear “but i love you.”

#song mingi #mingi #mingi scenarios #mingi angst #ateez angst #wooyoung #yeosang #san #hongjoong #jongho #seonghwa #yunho #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #mingi fluff

[waywardaardvark79]

Supernatural Rewrite: Season 1, Episode 9: Home

Summary:  Y/N Singer joins Sam and Dean on the road. A rewrite starring you.

Pairing: eventual Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader (platonic)

Warnings: language, show level violence, feels???

Word Count: 10, 534 

A/N: I’ll try to do at least one episode a week. No set schedule. Tags open. 

 "Sam." you said, shaking his shoulder, his tossing and turning waking you up. "Sam, wake up." you tried again.

Sam sat up in bed, looking at you confused, "Y/N?" he asked.

You nodded your head, "Bad dream?" you asked, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

"Yeah, did...did you..." he trailed off, afraid to ask.

"No." you said, holding up your gloved hands, Sam nodding his head, a relieved expression on his face, "Was it Jess?"

"No." Sam said, settling himself back in bed.

"You wanna tell me about it? I'll give you your first session free." you teased, throwing his own words back at him.

"It's...I'm okay." Sam said, "It...it was just a dream."

"Sam." you said, not believing him at all.

"Really, Y/N. I'm fine." Sam said.

"You can't lie to me, Sam, and it's not because I'm some freaky mind reader either. I've known you since we were kids, and I know something is wrong. If you don't want to tell me that's fine, but I just hope you know that I'm here if you need me, and I won't judge. Trust me, I'm the last person that has room to." you said, holding up your hands and wiggling your fingers.

"Thanks, Y/N." Sam said.

"No problem, Sammy." you said, standing up to go back to your own bed.

"It's Sam." Sam teasingly said as you got back into bed.

"Mmm hmm...night, Sammy." you said, Sam chuckling.

"Night, Y/N." he said. 

The next morning the three of you were sitting in the motel room, Dean looking for cases, Sam drawing on the motel stationary, and you were scribbling in your journal. You had taken to writing in one lately, finding that writing things down helped clear your head some.

"All right, I've been cruisin' some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig. A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali...it's crew vanished, and, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas. Hey." Dean said, you and Sam both looking over at him, "Am I boring you two with this hunting evil stuff?" he asked.

"No. I'm listening, keep going." Sam said, Dean looking over to you.

"Hmm, oh yeah, me too. I'm listenin'." you said.

"Really? What did I just say?" Dean asked.

"Cattle mutilations." you said, Dean shaking his head at you.

"And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times." Dean said, waving his hand in front of Sam's face, "Any of these things blowin' up your skirt, pal? What about you over there? You writin' a novel or somethin'?" Dean asked.

"Or somethin'." you said, closing your journal. "I told you I was listening. I heard everything you said, and if I had my pick I'd go with the three shots to the head guy." you said before looking over to Sam, "You better weigh in here before he flips his fuckin' lid." you said, Sam too busy looking down at the paper he was holding to respond.

"Wait. I've seen this." Sam said.

"Seen what?" you and Dean asked in unison, Sam getting up from his bed to search through his duffel bag.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked as Sam pulled out a picture from his bag, quickly holding it up to the motel stationary he had been drawing on .

"Guys, I know where we have to go next." Sam said, looking between you and Dean.

"Where?" Dean asked.

"Back home...back to Kansas." Sam said.

"Sam, are you okay?" you asked, concerned for him.

Sam nodded his head, "We have to go back." he said.

"Okay, random. Where'd that come from?" Dean asked.

Sam showed the photo he was holding to Dean, "All right, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." Dean said.

"And it didn't burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?" Sam asked.

"I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talkin' about?" Dean asked.

"Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy, but...the people who live in our old house...I think they might be in danger." Sam said, and you quickly got up and snatched the stationary that he was drawing on.

"Why would you think that?" Dean asked.

"Uh, it's just, um...look, just trust me on this, okay?" Sam said before starting to walk away.

"Sam." you said, stopping him, holding up the stationary when he turned to look at you.

"Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Sam said before turning to you, "What is it?" he asked.

"You tell me." you said, Sam walking over to you as you flipped through the pages of your journal. "What the fuck, Sam?" you asked, pointing to a page, a rough sketch of the tree that matched the one Sam was talking about, the one he had been drawing.

"When did you do this?" Sam asked.

"This morning." you said, Dean growing more impatient by the second.

"Come on, guys. You gotta give me a little bit more than this because right now it looks like we're freakin' out over some paper." Dean said.

"I can't really explain it is all." Sam said, still looking at you.

"Yeah, me either." you said.

"Well, tough. I'm not going anywhere until you guys start talkin'." Dean said, both you and Sam glancing over at him before looking back at each other.

"How did you know to draw this?" Sam asked.

"I don't fuckin' know, Sam. It just popped in my head, and I couldn't get it out. Sometimes when I write things down it seems to help, so I did." you said.

"Y/N, I've been thinking about this since last night." Sam said, pausing for a moment, "Maybe, you..." he trailed off.

"No. No. No." you said, shaking your head, "That only happens when I touch something, and I never touched you. It's just some weird fucked up coincidence."

Sam scoffed, "Really, Y/N? A coincidence? You know better than that." Sam said.

"Hey!" Dean barked out, both you and Sam whipping around to face him, "Somebody better start fuckin' talkin', and now." he said, looking between you and Sam.

"I have these nightmares." Sam finally said.

"I've noticed." Dean said, nodding his head.

"And sometimes...they come true." Sam said, you giving his arm a gentle squeeze, letting him know that you were there.

"Come again?" Dean asked, shocked, a feeling of deja vu hitting him, this was you all over again.

"Look, Dean...I dreamt about Jessica's death...for days before it happened." Sam said.

"Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I'm sure it's just a coincidence." Dean said, sitting down on the bed, thinking to himself that he didn't know if he could handle something happening to both you and Sam.

"No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn't do anything about it cause I didn't believe it." Sam said.

Dean ran a hand through his hair before focusing on you, "Did you know about this?" he asked, "Because if I find out that you knew and you didn't tell me..."

"Dean, I-" you said, your heart pounding in your chest, Sam cutting you off.

"She didn't know. She only saw what happened to Jess. She didn't know about the dreams." Sam said, lying for you. "And now I'm dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that's where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?" Sam asked.

"I don't know." Dean said, overwhelmed. "And you've seen it, too?" he asked you.

"No, just...just the tree, and it was only for a split second. It just kept flashing in my head, kind of like a snapshot." you said.

"I...I don't know." Dean quietly said.

"What do you mean you don't know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica." Sam said, sitting down across from Dean.

"All right, just slow down, would ya?" Dean asked, standing up before he started to pace, "I mean, first you tell me that you've got the Shining, too? And, then you tell me that I've got to go back home. Especially when..." Dean trailed off.

"When what?" Sam asked.

"When I swore to myself that I would never go back there." Dean said as he continued to pace, "God damn it! I've already got too much on my plate with this shit that is goin' on with her. I can't handle it happening to you, too. Fixing one of you is enough right now. All I can think about is how I have to watch her, make sure that she doesn't go off the fuckin' deep end.  I can't be worried about you being some sort of freak, too." Dean said, the room falling silent.

"Yeah, well, you don't have to worry about me, Dean, and you sure as shit don't have to fuckin' fix me. I can take care of myself. I don't need you." you said before storming out of the room, slamming the door closed behind you.

"Shit! Y/N! I didn't mean it like that." Dean said, running his hands over his face. "This is just...too much."

"I know, Dean. I know it is, but we have to check this out. Just to make sure. I mean, especially with both of us seeing something. It has to mean something." Sam said.

"I know we do. Just...just give me a minute first." Dean said, starting for the door.

Dean saw you across the parking lot, pacing and kicking at the gravel. He took a deep breath, knowing that talking to you right now wasn't going to be easy, but he felt that he needed to explain himself to you.

"Y/N, look, I didn't mean it like that." Dean said, stopping a few feet away from you.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Dean." you said, still pacing, refusing to look in his direction, "You made yourself pretty clear back there."

"Y/N, I'm sorry, okay? I...I didn't mean it. It just came out wrong." Dean said, you still refusing to look at him, "Would you just talk to me?"

You whipped around to face him, tears staining your cheeks, "I don't have anything to say to you." you said.

"Fuck, don't cry. I'm sorry. I didn't...I don't want you to cry." Dean said, hanging his head.

"You can take your guilt and your apology and shove them up your fuckin' ass." you said. "Just get out of here. Leave me the fuck alone."

"Y/N, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. It was just a heat of the moment thing." he said.

"Don't worry, asshole, my feelings aren't fuckin' hurt. I'm just really fuckin' pissed right now. I mean, God forbid I give you something else to worry about, right? I mean, I already weigh you down. I'm just some freak burden that you have to fix, right? Someone that you have to watch constantly because who knows what the freak might do next? You know, I never asked for you to swoop in and save me. I can take care of myself. It's not your fuckin' job to watch over me. I don't NEED you." you said, venom dripping from your words.

"Listen, Y/N." Dean said, trying to remain calm, "What I said...it...it came out wrong, okay? I...you don't weigh me down, and...and the freak thing...I don't think that." he said.

"Oh, see, I guess I confused the part where you said you didn't want Sam becoming some sort of freak, too. Guess, my fucked up freak brain misunderstood that." you said, shaking your head. "You know what? I'll make it easy for you, and I'll lighten your fuckin' load, take some of that weight off of your shoulders." you said, before taking off for the room.

"Oh, what does that fuckin' mean?" Dean asked, chasing after you. "Y/N!" 

You stormed back into the room, Sam looking at you wide eyed. "Hey, are you okay?" Sam asked.

"Oh, I'm just fuckin' perfect." you said, grabbing your bag, quickly shoving things inside.

"Y/N, why don't you just calm down for a second." Sam gently said.

"Not now, Sam." you said, looking around the room for your things.

"What are you doin'?" Dean asked, watching you from the door.

"I told you. I'm gonna lighten your load." you said, snatching your journal and shoving it into your bag before slinging the bag over your shoulder and turning for the door, "Get out of my way, Dean." you said, glaring at him.

"No." he clipped out, bracing himself in the doorway.

"Get out of my fuckin' way....right now." you said, standing toe to toe with him.

"No." he said again, glaring back at you, both of you close to exploding.

"I'm not above making you move, so this is your last fuckin' chance to get the fuck out of my way." you seethed.

"I'm not moving, so you do what you have to do." Dean said.

"Guys, let's just calm down and talk about this." Sam said, his hands held up in front of him as he carefully approached the two of you.

"We DON'T need to talk about anything. He already said enough." you said.

"I told you I was sorry!" Dean yelled.

"And I told you where you could shove that apology! Now move!!" you yelled back.

"I told you I wasn't movin'. You don't get to just run off. Now when you told me that you wouldn't leave." Dean said.

"Oh, no. You don't get to throw that back at me. That...that was before, and everything...everything is just fucked now. Everything's changed." you said.

"Nothin's changed for me." Dean said.

You scoffed, "How can you say that with a straight face? Everything has changed, Dean! You never had to worry about me before, or feel like you had to watch me constantly. I'm just another problem to solve now. Just another fucked up crisis that needs to be averted. I'm not gonna stick around and hang all that on you. You're...you're scared of me now. When you look at me you don't see me anymore. You don't see Y/N. You just see some..." you trailed off, taking a deep breath, "Listen, you can say whatever you want, you can deny it until you are blue in the fuckin' face, but I know the truth, okay? I know, and just let me make it easy for once. Let me go." you said.

"Y/N." Dean started to say, Sam standing in the background speechless.

You held up your hand to stop him, "Move." you said, shaking your head. "Don't make me say it again."

"No, you're gonna listen to me now." he said, Sam stepping a little closer to the two of you, afraid that he was going to have to step in.

"Maybe you two should just take a few minutes. Calm down, and then we can talk about this once everybody has cooled off." Sam said, knowing how hot headed both of you were, both of you likely to make rash decisions.

"No, she said what she wanted to say, and now I'm going to." Dean said.

"Dean." Sam warned, Dean ignoring him.

"You don't get to tell me what I think, or what I feel because you don't know." Dean said to you.

"Pretty fuckin' sure I do." you said.

"Could you just keep your mouth closed for five minutes and let me talk?" he asked.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, "Talk, but you're wasting your breath cause it's not gonna change anything." you said.

"You think everything is different now, and yeah, shit's changed, but you don't know what you're talking about. You said I never had to worry about you before. Y/N, that's all I ever fuckin' do. I worry that something is gonna happen to you, that you could hurt or worse, and that I won't be able to save you. And yeah, I know, that's not my fuckin' job, right? But, damn it, Y/N, that is my fuckin' job because I...I..." Dean said, not able to say what he wanted to, "It's my job, okay? Because you and me...we're...we're partners. That's what we do. We look out for each other, and we have each other's backs." Dean said.

"You done?" you coldly asked, looking up at him.

"I'm not scared of you. I'm scared of what's happening, and I'm scared that I don't know what to fuckin' do to help you, but I'm not scared of you. I don't think you're a...I don't think that, okay? It was just everything...hit all at once, and it just keeps coming. I'm drowning here, Y/N. I can't lose you or Sam. I...can't. I'm always the one that is supposed to know what to do, and I don't. I lost my shit and said something I didn't fuckin' mean." he said, looking down at you, unable to read your expression. "Here." he said, reaching out for your hand, "See for yourself."

You jerked your hand away from him, "I don't need to see anything. Move." you said.

"Y/N." Dean said, his voice so small, so defeated.

"Are we goin' to Kansas, or not?" you asked, not looking at him, Dean reluctantly stepping aside, "I'll be at the car." 

Dean stood there and watched you walked away, part of him still ready to chase after you, afraid that you would walk right by the car and just keep going. He let out a slow breath when he saw you drop your bag and lean against the side of the car.

"I'm such a fuckin' idiot. She hates me. God, why did I fuckin' say that?" he asked, afraid to take his eyes off of you.

"Yeah, you probably could have worded that a little better." Sam said, Dean nodding his head.

"You, uh, you mind gettin' my stuff?" Dean asked, not wanting to turn his back on you.

"She's not going anywhere, Dean." Sam said.

"You don't know that, and I..." Dean said, stopping himself before he said too much.

"Yeah, I do. She's not going anywhere. You two are just..." Sam said, shaking his head in frustration. "You guys are blind. You can't see it."

"See what? Cause I can clearly see that she fuckin' hates me." Dean said.

"She doesn't hate you. She...listen, it's not easy to hear something like that from someone you care about. She's scared enough already. She may not act like it, but she is. We both know that, but I know that she isn't going anywhere. So, just get your stuff and come on." Sam said, tossing his last few things in his bag before walking out the door. 

The drive to Kansas was awkward to say the least, you and Dean tip toeing around each other, communicating through Sam when it wasn't absolutely necessary to talk to each other, and when Dean pulled up in front of their childhood home you couldn't get out of the car fast enough.

"You gonna be alright, man?" Sam asked, Dean glancing at the house before looking at you.

"Let me get back to you on that." he said, him and Sam getting out of the car. 

The three of you walked to the door in silence, Dean knocking on the door, a woman answering it a few moments later.

"Yes?" she asked, Sam looking at her in shock, she was the woman from his dream.

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but we're with the Federal-" Dean said, Sam quickly interrupting.

"I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean. We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin' by and we were wondering if we could come see the place." Sam said.

"Winchester. Yeah, that's so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night. I don't remember seeing a sister, though." she said, looking over to you.

"Oh, no. That's Y/N. She's my-" Dean said, you stepping in.

"I'm an old family friend." you said, smiling at her, missing the look on Dean's face.

"Well, come on in." she said, stepping aside to let the three of you in. 

The three of you followed Jenny into the kitchen to see a little girl sitting at the table, and a toddler jumping up and down excitedly in his playpen.

"Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!" the little boy yelled.

"That's Ritchie. He's kind of a juice junkie." Jenny said, taking a sippy cup out of the fridge before walking over to Ritchie, "But, hey, at least he won't get scurvy." she said, walking over to the little girl next, "Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and Y/N. Sam and Dean used to live here."

"Hi." Sari said, you and Dean waving at her.

"Hey, Sari." Sam greeted.

"Why are you wearing gloves? You're not supposed to wear them in the house, only when you're outside." Sari said, looking at you.

"Sari." Jenny scolded, looking at you embarrassed.

"You're right, Sari." you said, pulling off your gloves, Dean looking over at you, a worried expression on his face. "You know, sometimes I just forget that I have them on." you said, tucking your gloves into your pocket.

"So, you just moved in?" Dean asked, trying to get down to business.

"Yeah, from Wichita." Jenny said.

"You got family here, or?" Dean asked.

"No, I just...uh, needed a fresh start, that's all. So, new town, new job...I mean, as soon as I find one. New house." she said.

"So, how you likin' it so far?" Sam asked.

"Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home. I mean, I'm sure you had lots of happy memories here." she said, Dean smiling weakly at her, "But this place has it's issues."

"Issues?" you asked.

"What do you mean?" Sam quickly added.

"Well, it's just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We've got flickering lights almost hourly." she said, the three of you instantly alert.

"Oh, that's too bad. What else?" Dean asked.

"Um...sink's backed up, there's rats in the basement. I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain." she said.

"No." Dean said, not offended at all, "Have you seen the rats?" he asked.

"Or, have you just heard them? The scratching?" you asked.

"It's just the scratching actually." Jenny said.

"Mom?" Sari asked, Jenny kneeling down next to her, "Ask them if it was here when they lived here." Sari said.

"What, Sari?" Sam asked.

"The thing in my closet." she said.

"Oh, no, baby. There was nothing in their closets." Jenny said, looking at Sam and Dean, "Right?"

"Right. No, no, of course not." Sam said, glancing over at you, and you didn't need to be able to read minds to know what he was thinking.

"She had a nightmare the other night." Jenny explained.

"I wasn't dreaming. It came into my bedroom, and it was on fire." Sari said, shocking the three of you.

"Hey, Sari." you said, walking over to her and kneeling beside her, reaching out to place your hand on hers, "You don't have anything to be scared of." you said, trying to keep your facial expression under control as you saw what she was talking about, "Sometimes, new places can be scary, but nothing bad is going to happen. Sometimes dreams can feel like they're real, but you're safe here." you said, trying to memorize everything you could about the figure. 

The three of you were walking back to the car, "You guys hear that? A figure on fire." Sam said, before looking over at you, "Did you see it?"

"Yeah, it was just like she said. It was just a figure, an outline of a body. I couldn't make out a face or any other details. It was just standing there, engulfed in flames. I couldn't get a read on it like I have before. I didn't feel any emotions attached to it." you said, pulling your gloves back on.

"And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dream?" Dean asked Sam.

"Yeah, and did you guys hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit." Sam said, you nodding your head.

"You're right." you said.

"Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin' true." Dean said, immediately cringing, scared of how you would take it.

"I think that's the least of or our problems right now." you said.

"Yeah, Y/N's right. Forget about that for a minute." Sam said, pausing for a moment, "The thing in the house, do you guys think it's the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?" Sam asked.

"I don't know." Dean said.

Sam shook his head, "Well, I mean, has it come back, or has it been here the whole time?" Sam asked.

"Sam, let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet. We don't know anything for sure." you said.

"Well, those people are in danger. We have to get 'em out of that house." Sam said.

"Yeah, I agree with that." you said. "We definitely need to get them out, and fast."

"And we will." Dean said.

"No, I mean now." Sam said.

"And how you gonna do that, huh? You got a story that she's gonna believe?" Dean asked.

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Sam asked.

"We need to just take a step back and stop letting emotions take over." you said, the three of you getting into the car. 

The three of you were standing outside of the gas station while Dean pumped gas, "Y/N's right. We just gotta chill out, that's all. You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?" Dean asked.

"Well, first, we'd try to figure out what the fuck we're dealing with." you said.

Sam sighed, "We'd dig into the history of the house." he said.

"Exactly, except this time, we already know what happened." Dean said.

"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?" Sam asked.

"Not much. I remember the fire...the heat." Dean said, pausing a moment, and you had to stop yourself from reaching out for his hand. You knew how hard this was for him, "And then I carried you out the front door."

"You did?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, what, you never knew that?" Dean asked.

"No." Sam said, shaking his head.

"And, well, you guys know Dad's story as well as I do. Mom was...was on the ceiling, and whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her." Dean said.

"And he never had a theory about what did it?" Sam asked.

"If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times." Dean said, you nodding your head.

"I never heard him ever mention anything to Dad either." you said.

"Okay. So, if we're gonna figure out what's goin' on now...we have to figure out what happened back then, and see if it's the same thing." Sam said.

"Yeah. We'll talk to Dad's friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time." Dean said.

"Does...does this feel like just another job to you?" Sam asked, Dean remaining quiet.

"Look, guys. I can take the lead on this one. I can do all of the questioning if you want me to. Whatever will make it easier." you said, neither brother saying anything.

"I'll be right back. I gotta go to the bathroom." Dean said before walking away, leaving you and Sam alone. 

"Are you okay?" Sam asked once Dean walked away.

"I think I should be the one asking you that." you said.

"I'm...I don't know what I am." Sam said, you nodding your head.

"Yeah, me either, Sam. Me either, but we'll figure it out, right?" you asked.

"Yeah, we will." Sam said.

"Hey, thanks for covering my ass back there at the motel. You know, with Dean. If he found out that I knew, and didn't tell him...I'm sure everything would be a lot worse." you said.

"You know, he didn't mean it , right? I mean, I know he said it, and he shouldn't have. I'm not defending him, but he...he doesn't think of you that way." Sam said.

"I know." you said, hoping that Sam would drop it. 

Dean stood next to the bathroom door, and pulled out his cell phone, making sure that no one could see him before dialing.

"This is John Winchester. If this is an emergency call my son, Dean at 866-907-3235, or Y/N Singer at 866-907-0726." John's voicemail said before the beep.

"Dad? I know I've left messages before. I don't even know if you'll get them." Dean said, clearing his throat. "But I'm with Y/N and Sam, and we're in Lawrence. And there's somethin' in our old house. I don't know if it's the thing that killed Mom or not, but..." he said, his voice breaking, barely keeping himself together, "I don't know what to do." he added, starting to cry, "So, whatever you're doin', if you could get here. Please. I need your held, Dad." he said before hanging up the phone, tears in his eyes. 

"So, you and John Winchester, you used to own this garage together?" Dean asked, the three of you standing in the middle of an auto repair shop, talking with the owner.

"Yeah, we used to, a long time ago. Matter of fact, it must be, uh...twenty years since John disappeared. So why the cops interested all of sudden?" the owner asked.

"We're re-opening some of our unsolved cases, and the Winchester disappearance is one of them." you said.

"Oh, well, what do you wanna know about John?" the owner asked.

"Whatever you remember, you know, whatever sticks out in your mind." Dean said.

"Well...he was a stubborn bastard, I remember that." he said, laughing. "And, uh, whatever the game, he hated to lose, you know? It's that whole marine thing." he said, the three of you nodding. "But, oh, he sure loved Mary, and he doted on those kids."

"But that was before the fire?" Sam asked.

"That's right." the owner said.

"He ever talk about that night?" Sam asked.

"No, not at first. I think he was in shock." the owner said.

"Right, but eventually? What did he say about it?" you asked.

"Oh, he wasn't thinkin' straight. He said somethin' caused that fire and killed Mary." the man explained.

"He ever say what did it?" Dean asked.

"Nothin' did it. It was an accident...an electrical short in the ceiling or walls or somethin'. I begged him to get some help, but..." he trailed off.

"But what?" Dean asked.

"Oh, he just got worse and worse." the man said.

"How?" you asked.

"Oh, he started readin' these strange old books. He started goin' to see this palm reader in town." the man said.

"Palm reader?" you asked, the man nodding his head.

"Do you have a name?" Dean asked.

"No." the man scoffed.

"Well, thank you for your time, sir." you said, giving him a tight lipped smile before the three of you walked away. 

Dean parked the car by a payphone, and the two of you leaned against the car while Sam flipped through a phone book.

"All right, so there are a few psychics and palm readers in town. There's someone named El Divino. There's, uh." Sam paused, laughing, "There's the Mysterious Mister Fortinsky, uh, Missouri Moseley."

"Wait, wait. Missouri Moseley?" Dean asked.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Missouri Moseley? That's a psychic?" you asked.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess so." Sam said, Dean going into the backseat to get John's journal.

"In Dad's journal...here, look at this." Dean said, opening it to the first page, "First page, first sentence, read that." Dean said to Sam, you already knowing what it said.

"I went to Missouri and I learned the truth." Sam read aloud.

"I always thought he meant the state." Dean said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah, me too." you said. 

The three of you were sitting on a couch in Missouri's house, waiting, watching as she escorted a man to the door.

"All right, there. Don't you worry 'bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you." she said, the man thanking her before she closed the door behind him, "Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold bangin' the gardener." she said.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asked.

"People don't come here for the truth. They come for good news." she said, the three of you staring at her. "Well, Sam, Dean, Y/N, come on already. I ain't got all day." she said before leaving the room.

"Well, I guess we know she's legit." you said, standing up from the couch, Sam and Dean following after you. 

"Well, lemme look at ya." she said, when the three of you walked into the room. "Oh, you boys grew up handsome." she said before pointing a finger at Dean, "And you were one goofy looking kid, too." she said, Sam smirking.

"I like her." you said, chuckling, Dean glaring at you.

"Oh, honey." she said, grabbing your hand, looking down at your glove, "Aren't you a special one? Mmm hmm...very special." she said, confusing you, did she know what was happening to you?

"Sam." she said, grabbing his hand, "Oh, honey...I'm so sorry about your girlfriend. And your father...he's missing?" she asked, each of you looking at her in shock.

"How'd you know all that?" Sam asked.

"Well, you were just thinkin' it just now." she said, Sam raising his eyebrows, surprised.

"Well, where is he? Is he okay?" Dean asked.

"I don't know." Missouri said.

"Don't know? Well, you're supposed to be a psychic, right?" Dean asked.

"Boy, you see me sawin' some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please." she said, the three of you sitting down, "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, Im'ma whack you with a spoon." Missouri snapped.

"I didn't do anything." Dean said.

"But you were thinkin' about it." she said, Dean raising his eyebrows.

"Okay, so, my dad...when did you first meet him?" Sam asked.

"He came to me for a reading a few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say...I drew back the curtains for him." Missouri said.

"What about the fire? Do you know what killed our mom?" Dean asked.

"A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin' I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing." she said.

"And could you?" you asked, your mind racing with a million questions that you wanted to ask her.

"I..." she trailed off, shaking her head.

"What was it?" Sam asked.

"I don't know." she softly said, "Oh, but it was evil. That's why you're here. You think somethin' is back in that house?" she asked.

"Definitely." you said, Sam nodding his head.

"I don't understand." Missouri said.

"What?" Sam asked.

"I haven't been back inside, but I've been keepin' an eye on the place, and it's been quiet. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it actin' up now?" she asked.

"I don't know, but Dad going missing and Jessica dying, and now this house all happening at once...it just feels like something's starting." Sam said.

"And it sure as shit doesn't feel good." you said.

"That's a comforting thought." Dean said. 

The four of you were getting ready to go back to Jenny's house, Missouri agreeing to come along to see if she could sense anything, when you pulled her to the side.

"I...am I...do you know what's happening to me? Am I a psychic like you?" you asked.

"Oh, sweet child." she said, grabbing your hands, "Honey, I don't know what's happening."

"But you said I was special. You have to know something. Anything?" you asked.

"You are special. You have an energy about you that I have never felt before, but I don't have any answers for you. I wish I did." she said, your face falling.

"Me too." you said, giving her a weak smile, the two of you walking to join Sam and Dean. 

The four of you were waiting at Jenny's door, "Sam, Dean, Y/N. What are you doing here?" she asked, a little frazzled.

"Hey Jenny. This is our friend, Missouri." Sam said.

"If it's not too much trouble, we were hoping to show her the old house, you know for old times sake." Dean said.

"You know, this isn't a good time. I'm kind of busy." Jenny said.

"Listen, Jenny, it's important." Dean said, Missouri smacking him on the back of the head, "Ow!" he said.

"Give the poor girl a break, can't you see she's upset?" Missouri asked Dean before turning to Jenny, "Forgive this boy, he means well, he's just not the sharpest tool in the shed, but hear me out." she said, Dean looking stunned.

"Oh, I really like her." you said, Dean elbowing you.

"About what?" Jenny asked.

"About this house." Missouri said.

"Who are you?" Jenny asked.

"We're people who can help. Who can stop this thing, but you're gonna have to trust us, just a little." Missouri said, Jenny looking unsure. 

A few moments later, Missouri, and you, Sam, and Dean were standing in Sari's bedroom.

"If there's a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it." Missouri said.

"Why?" Sam asked.

"This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened." she said, Sam glancing up at the ceiling while Missouri looked around the room, you and Dean both pulling out an EMF meter. "Those EMFs?" she asked.

"Yeah." Dean said.

"Amateurs." she said, you and Dean both glaring at her. "Take those gloves off. You'll get more than that meter could ever tell you." she said.

You tucked your EMF meter back in your pocket, and looked down at your hands, scared to remove your gloves.

"Y/N." Dean said, worry in his voice, you glancing over at him before removing your gloves.

"I don't know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this isn't the thing that took your mom." Missouri said.

"What? Are you sure?" Sam asked, Missouri nodding her head. "How do you know?"

"It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It's somethin' different." she said, pulling you along with her.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"Not it." she said, opening the closet, "Them." she said, looking over at you, grabbing your hand and placing it against the inner closet wall.

You could feel it, something horrible, evil. You could feel it's eyes on you even though you couldn't see it. A scream made you whip around, and you could see John on the floor, looking up at the ceiling in horror.

You jerked your hand back, no longer able to stand it and you frantically pulled at your gloves in your pocket, desperate to get them back on.

"There's more than one spirit in here." Missouri said, Dean focusing on you instead of listening to her.

"What are they doing here?" Dean finally asked, still looking over at you in concern.

"They're here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds, and sometimes, wounds get infected." Missouri said, Dean listening as he kept his eyes on you.

"I don't understand." Sam said.

"This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It's attracted a poltergeist, a nasty one, and it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead." Missouri said.

"You said there was more than one spirit." Sam said.

"There is. I just can't quite make out the second one." Missouri said.

"Could you, Y/N?" Sam asked, "Y/N?" he asked again when you didn't answer.

Dean walked over to you, putting his hand on your shoulder, making you jump, "Hey." Dean said, trying to get you to focus on him. "You, okay?" he asked. "Y/N." he said, placing his finger under your chin, lifting it so that you were looking at him." You okay?" he asked.

You stepped back form him, "Yeah." you said, nodding your head. "I'm...I'm fine."

"Y/N?" Dean asked, not believing you for a second.

"I said I'm fine, Dean." you said before turning to Sam, "What did you say?" you asked.

"Could you sense the other spirit?" Sam asked.

"No." you quickly said, shaking your head. "I...no."

"Don't take those off again." Dean said to you, worried about what you weren't telling him.

You didn't argue with him, or have some snarky comeback. You just nodded your head in agreement.

"Well, one thing's for damn sure...nobody's dyin' in this house ever again. So, whatever is here, how do we stop it?" Dean asked. 

The four of you were back at Missouri's house, sitting around a table covered in different herbs and roots.

"So, what is all this stuff anyway?" Dean asked.

"Angelica Root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt, a few other odds and ends." Missouri said.

"Yeah? What are we supposed to do with it?" Dean asked.

"You put them inside the walls in the north, south, east, and west corners on each floor of the house." you said, Dean raising a brow at you. "Me and Dad." you simply said, Dean understanding that you must have worked a similar case with Bobby.

"We'll be punchin' holes in the dry wall. Jenny's gonna love that." Dean said.

"She'll live." Missouri said.

"And this'll destroy the spirits?" Sam asked.

"It should. It should purify the house completely. We'll each take a floor, but we work fast. Once the spirit's realize what we're up to, things are gonna get bad." Missouri said. 

The four of you were back at Jenny's house, Missouri walking Jenny and the kids out before joining you, Sam, and Dean in the kitchen. Dean was handing out bags, and telling everyone where to go.

You held out your hand to him, waiting for your bag, and for him to tell you where to go.

"You're with me." he said, Sam and Missouri walking off to their designated locations.

"I don't need a babysitter." you said.

"Never said you did." Dean said, looking for a place to put the bag.

"You don't have to watch me constantly." you said, pointing out a place on the wall.

Dean looked over at you, "Look, I know that somethin' happened to you here earlier, and you don't have to tell me, but I'm not lettin' you out of my sight. So, get mad, yell, do whatever you have to do, but you do it here, where I can see you." Dean said.

"You gonna put that in the wall, or what?" you asked, deciding not to argue with him, Dean raising an eyebrow at you, fully expecting a fight, "I'm not gonna yell at you. Let's just do what we have to do." you said, Dean punching a hole in the wall with a small ax.

Your back was to him, your eyes on the rest of the kitchen, a noise catching your attention. You looked over just in time to see the kitchen drawer opening by itself.

"Dean!" you yelled, grabbing him and pulling him away, just as a knife hurled itself into the cabinet. "Fuck." you breathed out.

"Get down!" Dean yelled, pushing you to the ground before you could even realize what was happening, flipping a table in front of the two of you before covering you with his body, knives piercing the table a few seconds later.

"Oh, shit. Sam." you breathed out, Dean's weight crushing you. "Go!"

Dean pushed himself off of you and took off for the stairs. You got to your feet as fast as you could and followed after him. 

"Sam!" Dean yelled, running into the room to see Sam lying on the floor, the cord from the lamp wrapped tightly around his neck.

Dean rushed over to him and tried to get the cord off, but it wouldn't budge no matter what he did.

"The bag. Where the fuck is the bag?" you asked, Dean quickly tossing it to you.

You ran over to the wall, and started to kick it, finally breaking through and quickly shoving the bag of herbs inside, a blinding white light leaving the room. 

Once the spirit was gone, you made your way back to Sam and knelt by his side as Dean unraveled the cord from his neck. Dean pulled him into a fierce hug and you sat back on your heels, placing your hand on Sam's shoulder, relieved that he was okay. 

A few hours later you, Sam, Dean, and Missouri were standing in the middle of Jenny's extremely messy kitchen, everything basically destroyed.

"You sure this is over?" Sam asked.

"I'm sure. Why? Why do you ask?" Missouri asked.

"Never mind." Sam sighed. "It's nothin', I guess." he said, looking over at you, you shaking your head at him, knowing this wasn't over.

"Hello? We're home." Jenny said, walking into the kitchen and looking around, "What happened?" she asked.

"Hi, sorry. Um, we'll pay for all of this." Sam said, you and Dean looking at each other confused.

"Don't you worry. Dean's gonna clean up this mess." Missouri said, Dean standing there not moving. "Well, what are you waiting for , boy? Get the mop." she said.

"Come on. I'll help you." you said, you and Dean walking away.

"And don't cuss at me!" Missouri yelled, Dean muttering under his breath. 

You, Sam and Dean were sitting in the car outside of Jenny's house, you and Sam both insisting on sticking around.

"All right, so tell me again, what we are still doin' here?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. I just...still have a bad feeling." Sam said.

"Me too. This shit isn't over yet." you said.

"Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean. It should be over." Dean said.

"Yeah, well, probably. But, I just wanna make sure, that's all." Sam said.

"Look, I know you think we're both fuckin' nuts, but I'm telling you this isn't over." you said.

"Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now." Dean said, sliding down in his seat and closing his eyes.

"And he says I'm the dramatic one." you muttered, Sam smirking before looking up at Jenny's bedroom window, Jenny standing there screaming for help just like in his dream.

"Guys. Look, guys!" Sam yelled, the three of you getting out of the car and running towards the house.

"You two grab the kids, I'll get Jenny." Dean said before rushing inside. 

You had Ritchie in your arms, and were following after Sam to Sari's room, both of you hearing her scream for help.

"Don't look. Don't look!" Sam said, the fire figure standing there, as he picked her up, the two of you rushing downstairs with the children.

You watched as Sam put Sari down, "What are you doing?" you asked.

"Sari, go with Y/N. She'll take you and your brother to your mom." Sam said.

"Don't do this, Sam. It's fuckin' stupid. You can't stop that thing." you said.

"Get them out of here, Y/N!" Sam yelled.

You put Ritchie down, "All right, Sari , take your brother outside as fast as you can, and don't look back no matter what." you said, pushing them towards the door.

"Sam." you said, turning back to face him, a sudden invisible force making both of you fall to the ground before dragging the two of you backwards across the floor into another room.

Sari ran outside with Ritchie, both of them rushing over to Dean and Jenny, "Sari, where's Sam, and Y/N?" Dean asked, getting down on Sari's level.

Sari looked at him, crying, "They're inside. Something's got them." she said, Dean looking at the front door in panic. 

You and Sam were in the kitchen, both of you being flung around like rag dolls before the invisible force pinned both of you to the wall, neither of you able to move at all.

"Sam? Y/N?" you head Dean call out, and you knew he was making his way to you.

"Sam! Y/N!" Dean yelled when he saw the two of you pinned against the wall, the fire figure in front of the two of you.

Dean raised his gun, "No, don't! Don't!" Sam yelled.

"No fuckin' way. It can't be." you said to yourself.

"What, why?" Dean asked.

"Because I know who it is. I can see her now." Sam said.

"Listen to him, Dean." you said, the fire vanishing, Mary Winchester standing before the three of you exactly as she was the night she died.

Dean's expression softened, and he lowered his gun, "Mom?" he softly asked, Mary smiling and stepping closer to him.

"Dean." Mary said, tears forming in Dean's eyes.

You watched, both you and Sam still pinned to the wall, as she walked up to Sam.

"Sam." she said, Dean never taking his eyes off of her, Sam crying and giving her a weak smile, "I'm sorry." she said.

"For what?" Sam asked, Mary looking at him sadly, but saying nothing before turning to you.

She looked at you, her mouth never moving, but you heard her words loud and clear, "Watch over them. Take care of my boys. They need you. He needs you." she thought, and you nodded your head the best you could, letting her know that you got her message.

Mary walked away from you and looked up at the ceiling, "You get out of my house, and you let go of her and my son." Mary said, once again bursting into flames, the fire reaching the ceiling once she was entirely engulfed before disappearing.

The force holding you and Sam to the wall was released, both of you walking over to Dean, the three of you looking at each other stunned, before you pulled both of them into a hug.

"Now, it's over." Sam said.

"Yeah." you said, "It's over." 

The next morning you and Dean were standing next to the car with Jenny, Dean looking through the photo's she gave him, "Thanks for these." he said.

"Don't thank me. They're yours." Jenny said, as Dean put the photos into the car.

"Hey, I'll be right back." you said before walking over to Sam and Missouri. 

"Well, there are no spirits in there anymore, this time for sure." Missouri said.

"Not even my Mom?" Sam asked, your heart breaking for him.

"No." Missouri said.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"Your mom's spirit and the poltergeist's energy, they cancelled each other out. Your mom destroyed herself goin' after the thing." Missouri explained.

"Why would she do something like that?" Sam asked, you reaching down to grab his hand.

"Well, to protect her boys, of course." Missouri said, Sam nodding his head, tears in his eyes as he squeezed onto your hand. "Sam, Y/N. I'm sorry." she said.

"For what?" you asked.

"The two of you sensed that it was here, didn't you? Even when I couldn't." she said.

"What's happening to us?" Sam asked.

"I know I should have all the answers, but I don't." she said.

"Sam! Y/N! You ready?" Dean called out, both you and Sam turning to walk away, Missouri reaching out to grab your hand, stopping you.

"I'll be right there, Sam." you said, turning back to face her once Sam walked away. 

Missouri put her hand on your shoulder, "I know that you're scared, full of doubt, but I want you to know that there's one thing you never have to worry about." she said.

"What's that?" you asked, hoping she had some sort of answer for you.

"You mean the world to that boy." she said, looking over you shoulder to see Dean's eyes glued to you.

You shook your head, "I'm not so sure about that. He's scared of me." you said.

"No, he's scared, but not of you. He's scared that something is gonna happen to you and he won't be able to do anything to stop it." Missouri said.

"Y/N!" Dean called out, you looking over your shoulder at him before turning back to Missouri.

"Thank you." you said, before walking away to the car. 

"Don't you kids be strangers." Missouri said.

"We won't." Dean assured her.

"See you around." Missouri said, "And Y/N, you remember what I said, honey." she added as the three of you were getting in the car.

"I will." you said, the three of you giving them a final wave before driving off. 

Missouri walked into her house and sat her purse down on the table.

"That boy, he has such powerful abilities, and the girl is even stronger, why they couldn't sense you, I have no idea." she said.

"Mary's spirit...do you really think she saved the boys...Y/N?" John asked.

"I do." Missouri said, John nodding his head sadly as he twisted his wedding ring on his finger, "John Winchester, I could just slap you. Why won't you go talk to your children, and Y/N?" she asked.

"I want to." John tearfully said, "You have no idea how much I wanna see 'em, all of 'em, but I can't. Not yet. Not until I know the truth." John said, him and Missouri sharing a look. 

The three of you checked into a motel for the night, all of you completely drained, both physically and emotionally.

You looked over at Dean, who was sleeping on his side, facing away from you, both of you making sure to stay on your own side of the bed.

You eased the covers back, and sat up before grabbing your jeans and boots from the floor and slipping them on. You tip toed across the room and eased the door open, closing it gently behind you before making your way over to the hood of the Impala.

You climbed up and leaned back against the windshield, closing your eyes once you were settled, the sound of a door opening and closing catching your attention a few minutes later.

You let out a heavy sigh," Sam, go back in there and tell him I'm not going anywhere. He can lift the house arrest." you said.

"Well, I guess, that's good to know." Dean said, your eyes popping open once you heard him speak.

"Go back to bed, Dean. I'm not going anywhere. I...I just need to clear my head." you said.

"I know somethin' that might help with that. You wanna take a drive?" Dean asked.

"Not particularly." you said, your eyes closed.

Dean sighed, "I asked if you wanted to take a drive." he said, again.

"And, I said not particularly." you said, opening your eyes and sitting up, Dean tossing the keys into your lap.

"What about now?" he asked.

You grabbed the keys, "Really, Dean? What happened to life ain't fair, and you'll never drive again after what you did in Tampa?" you asked.

"Are you gonna sit there askin' me a million questions or are  you gonna drive?" Dean asked, walking to the passenger side of the car. 

The two of you were in the car, you behind the wheel, both  of you sitting in silence as you drove down the empty highway, no particular destination in mind.

"What...what happened back there at the house?" Dean finally asked, his voice a little rough from disuse.

"Sam wasn't coming out, and I wasn't going to let him stay in there alone." you said, your eyes on the road.

"I know that. I'm talking about what happened in the closet. What did you see?" Dean asked.

"Dean." you breathed out, dreading the conversation. "I don't want to do this."

"Please. I...was it my mom? Did you see her?" he asked.

"No." you said, shaking your head, "At first...I didn't see anything, but I could feel something, something bad, and it scared the shit out of me. Then, I heard screaming and I looked over and John was on the floor, looking at up the ceiling. I...I...couldn't take it after that. I could feel what he was feeling and I couldn't take it. I pulled my hand off after that, and then nothing." you said, both of you slipping into silence.

"You know, I really am sorry...about what I said." Dean said after a few minutes.

"Dean, I don't want to fight you with you. I don't have it in me right now. Let's just forget it happened, okay? I'm sure it won't be the last time we blow up at each other." you said, glancing over at him, "You know, since we're both assholes most of the time."

The corner of Dean's mouth turned up, "Were...were you really gonna do it? Leave?" he asked.

"What happened to forgetting it ever happened?" you asked, Dean looking over at you, silently begging for you to answer his question. "I...I don't know, Dean, okay? I don't know." you said.

Dean nodded his head, "You wanted to go." he said.

"I didn't WANT to go, but I'm not gonna stick around if you don't want me here. I...I...don't want you to think I'm your responsibility, that it's your job to look out for me. I don't want to weigh you down, De. You fuckin' deal with enough. You don't need my crazy on top of it. So, no, I didn't want to leave, but if it would make it easier on you, I will." you said.

Dean was quiet for a moment, "I know you don't need me." he finally said.

"That's not what I said, Dean. I don't need you to save me. I don't want you drivin' yourself fuckin' nuts worrying about what's happening to me. One of us doing that is enough." you said, pausing for a moment, "But, I do need you. I need, I need you to...fuck, I just need you to be, Dean. You know, I just want us to be...us." you said, glancing over at him. "You know, the us we were before all the magic fingers...freak mind reading bullshit." you said.

Dean nodded his head, "I need you here, you know? I know I fucked up, and you got to believe me when I say that I didn't mean it that way. Ever since I said it all I've thought about is how I wish I could take it back. I...I never want to hurt you, and then when I saw you cryin'-" Dean said, you interrupting him.

"I was crying because I was mad. You know I cry when I'm really pissed. That's all it was." you said, lying, not wanting him to beat himself up about it.

"Listen, I know I can't do the whole mind reading thing, but we both know that's not the whole truth. I'm not doubting that you were pissed. Trust me, I know you were, but I know I crossed a line, and I know I hurt you." he said.

You shrugged your shoulders, "It's fine. I'm over it." you said.

"You're not, and that's okay. I get it. I just wanted to tell you...that I'm sorry, and that even though you're a huge pain in my ass, I kinda need you to stick around. I don't want you to go anywhere. Just...please don't go."  he said.

"I'm not going anywhere, Winchester. I mean, who else would watch out for you? Save your ass? And poor Sam can't put up with you by himself. I couldn't do that to him. Don't worry, okay? It's gonna take more than that to get rid of me." you said.

Dean nodded his head, "I, uh, I don't want you to think that I see you differently. I don't, even though some things have changed. Y/N, I,uh...I...I, care about you, okay? So, I don't care that you can read minds, or that you have magic fuckin' fingers. Hell, I wouldn't care if you woke up tomorrow and could shoot rainbows outta your ass. You're still Singer to me, and you always will be...no matter what happens."

"Shoot rainbows outta my ass, huh? Now that would be money in the bank. You know, we could take that show on the road. So long hustling pool and credit card scams. Sam would be so proud." you teased, neither of you good with the whole feelings thing. "You know, we really got to come up with something besides magic fingers. I mean, every time I hear it all I can think about are those cheesy motel beds." you said.

"Hey, I love those." Dean said.

"Yeah, I know." you chuckled. "I, uh, I'm gonna say some shit now, and just listen because I'm only gonna say it once." you said, glancing over at him.

"Okay." Dean said, a little worried.

"I'm not going anywhere, and I know I already told you that, but I need you to hear it again because I know you. I know that you are gonna sit there, and beat yourself up, and think that I hate you. I don't fuckin' hate you. I don't think I ever could. And, I know that we're gonna lose our shit again, and probably say shit we don't mean, but no matter what you say to me, no matter what happens...I could never hate you. I, uh...you know...the whole caring thing, well, me too, okay?" you said, taking your right hand off the wheel and laying it open in the seat beside you, palm up, "So, we good, De?" you asked.

"Yeah, Singer. We're good." he said, taking your hand and lacing his fingers with yours. 

The two of you stayed like that, sitting in comfortable silence, your hands still clasped together as you drove.

"We, uh, we better turn back. I bet Sam is wondering what happened." Dean said.

"Yeah." you said, looking over at him, "Or...we could go to a strip club." you said, a smirk on your face as you wiggled your eyebrows at him.

Dean threw his head back, his shoulders shaking with laughter, "You really had to go there? You just got the keys back." he said, shaking his head at  you, a smile on his face.

"Oh, come on, De. Live a little. You, me, some tear away pants. It could be fun." you said.

"Never again." He said, shaking his head. "I can't believe you brought that up." he said, laughing to himself.

"Well, I wouldn't be me, if I didn't." you said.

"Yeah, you're right about that, Singer." Dean said, squeezing your hand, "You're right about that." he softly repeated to himself, a smile on his face as the two of you drove back to the motel to pick up Sam. 

A/N: I just want to say thank you to everyone that takes the time to read these. The likes, comments, and reblogs mean the world to me, and I love reading what you guys have to say. So, thank you for being fuckin’ awesome. <3 

Tags: @miraclesoflove @22sarah08 @deans-baby-momma​ @spnae​ @karikatz12481​ @spngirl05​ @winchester-fantasies​ @freddiemermaytaydeac

@rainbowkisses31​ @in-deans-arms @scentedhoundshepherdmoney​ @teamfreewillisbae​ @it-could-go-off​​​

#supernatural fanfiction #series rewrite #dean x reader #reader insert #dean winchester #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural reader insert #dean x you #dean #sam winchester #spn fic #spn

[fvaleraye]

Nowhere to Go But Up

Hey, guess who had the sudden inspiration to write another Vampire!Alex AU drabble? *points at self*

So, uh, yeah, this was a uh. Spur of the moment thing that I just suddenly had inspiration and motivation for. So... I acted on it. Nothing like bein’ sick and not having much to do to bring writin’ inspiration, am I right ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Anyway yeah, uh, as y’all know: Alex is an AFW OC that I made, aaaaaand AFW belongs to my lovely friend @artnerd1123, so go check her out if you haven’t already!

hope y’all enjoy readin’ :V and also lemme know if there’s any spelling errors and such in there, I’ve been a little out of it asdlkfjn-

The sun began to hang low in the sky, the uncomfortably warm summer air starting to cool down to a more bearable temperature. A certain feline familiar strode down the street, her steps kicking up the dry dirt of the road, and her gaze was fixed firmly ahead, her eyes betraying the worry she was feeling.

The whole town was stirred up after the recent murder. One of the few local shopkeepers found dead on the street, his throat torn out. Many of the other locals and questors alike pointed fingers towards a vampire attack, most likely a starving one, but the locals didn't seem to care for the difference. Everyone was working themselves up into a tizzy, trying to find the vampire, while the travelling questors were trying their best to keep the townspeople from doing anything rash. No-one had any leads, though some of the more ornery locals were disturbingly quick to point fingers.

Lucy, meanwhile, was just trying to get back to her apartment. She knew who the vampire was... but she wasn't exactly willing to share that knowledge. Especially not now. Quietly greeting the receptionist as she passed through the lobby, she shoved the door to the duos apartment open, locking it behind her. She gave the room a quick glance around, before walking towards her originator's room, pointed feet tapping gently on the wooden floorboards. Taking a breath, she gently pushed open the door. As she expected, the lights were off, the blinds were closed, and there was still a lump under the covers. Quietly, she stepped into the room, sitting on the desk chair nearby.

After a moment of silence, she spoke up. "... Alex." She started, her tone low. "I know you're awake."

After a few moments without a response, the lump under the covers shifted a bit, and then replied. "... no 'm not." Alex slurred, making his lack of sleep painfully clear. "'m dead. I died."

The familiar let out a sigh at the response. "You're not dead."

"Yes I am." He snapped back, causing the familiar to reel a bit.

"... no. You are not. Alex, you need to get out of bed eventually."

At that, the sorcerer shoved the covers off his head, sitting up in his bed. He looked miserable. "... says who?" He hissed, squinting at the other. Whether it was out of anger, or simply because he didn't have his glasses on, wasn't entirely clear.

"Says me." She replied, crossing her arms. "Alex, I understand what happened-"

"No." He snapped again. "You don't. Unless you tore someone's throat out on your way home, you don't."

She reeled at his words, and let out a heavy sigh. She opened her mouth to speak again, her tone softening. "... you didn't mean to." She gave him the most sympathetic look she could manage as she slowly walked over to the bed, opting to sit on the edge. "I've been reading a lot of books about vampires, and you just... you got too hungry!" The sorcerer reached over to grab his glasses, his look giving off an aura of disinterest. "You went without blood for too long, and you just. Lost it. That's what I've read."

Alex let out a sigh of his own as she spoke, laying back down on the bed, facing away from her. "And I'm gonna keep going without blood." He replied, his tone quiet and resigned.

Lucy's jaw was agape in disbelief at his words, just silently looking at him like he'd gone made for a few moments. "You are not! What are you going to do? Just stay in here until you starve to death?!"

"Get out of my room." He snapped, covering his head with his blankets again. "Please... just get out."

She opened her mouth to speak again, but it just hung open for a moment, unable to find words. She huffed, and stepped out of the room. She stomped back to the living room, and started to pace. What was she going to do? He certainly wasn't going to listen to her about this, not now, perhaps not ever, but...

She needed to do something...

-----------------------------------------------------

An hour had passed, Alex had not come out of his room, and Lucy was about to pass out on the armchair. The last few sleepless nights seemed to be catching up with her.

Just as she was dozing off, the was a soft knock on the door, prompting the familiar to shake herself out her drowsiness and answer. She pushed herself out the armchair, slowly dragging herself to the door. There was a click as she unlocked it, and a small creak as she opened it slightly, peeking out into the hallway. Her eyes immediately fell on the one who knocked. A girl, seemingly around Alex's age, if not slightly younger, orange hair that seemed to fall down to her shoulder blades, clearly a sorcerer, judging by the staff. She was... also very pale, something that stood out, juxtaposed against her bright orange locks. After a moment of squinting, and not being able to recognize who it was, the feline familiar tiredly spoke up. "... do, d-do I know you...?" She said, letting out a yawn before continuing. "I'm sorry, I-I'm very tired, I-" The girl held up a hand, giving a small smile before speaking up.

"No, you don't." She started, her tone chipper, though still containing a hint of seriousness. "I was just passing through here with my family, my parents are promoting our business." She idly tossed her staff back and forth between her hands as she spoke. "My name's Samantha. What's yours?"

Lucy blinked, visibly confused about what a stranger like Samantha was doing here, before opening the door a little more, letting more of her tall frame show.  She said something about a business, was she going to try to sell her something? "Um, Lucy." She replied, hesitantly. "If you don't mind my asking, what- what are doing here...?" She cleared her throat and shook her head briefly, trying to keep from slurring her words.

The girl let out a small gasp, reaching a hand to rub the back of her head nervously. "Oh! U-uh-" She let out a flustered chuckle while trying to find her words. "That's a uh... good question, huh?" She cleared her throat, and briefly adjusted her cloak clasp. It was a red one, in the shape of a teardrop. She nervously glanced around at the halls, prompting the familiar to do the same, although with a bit more confusion than nerves. She shrunk, looking up at the tall familiar. "... may I... come in first...?"

She just stared at Samantha for a moment, giving the halls a few more confused glances, before sighing. "... sure?" She answered with a shrug, opening up the door to let the other in.

The bright haired girl stepped inside, walking to the middle of the room and giving it a quick glance around before turning back to her newfound host. "So!" She started, setting her staff to the side before clapping her hands together. "You're probably aware of the... the uh, murder, people are saying was a vampire attack...?"

If Lucy's face could have paled, it would have. She started fidgeting with her hands, giving the hallway that held the door to her originator's room an anxious glance. "... u-um... y-yeah, I'm. Aware."

Samantha took a mental note of the familiar's obvious nerves, before pulling out a satchel she kept hidden in her cloak. She set it on the floor, and promptly pulled out a dark red bottle, wordlessly handing it out to the other. She stared in confusion, hesitantly taking the bottle and giving it an experimental slosh before speaking up. "... what is this?"

"It's blood." She answered bluntly, sending her host reeling back.

"W-wha-?!"

The mysterious house guest held her hands up in a placating gesture. "I know it was your originator." She said quietly, glancing down at the satchel.

The familiar was flabbergasted. She opened her mouth to speak, but was quickly interrupted again. The sorcerer gave an exaggerated grin, showing off... rather obvious fangs. Lucy blinked. "... birds of a feather, and all that." She said, letting the grin fade to a more reserved one. "Don't ask how exactly I found, but... I figured that, if they were hungry enough for... that... to happen. They could probably use these." She gestured to the satchel, which contained several bottles identical to the one she had previously handed to the familiar.

Lucy once again found her mouth agape in surprise. A vampire just... wandered in here? And offered bottles of blood for Alex? This was not how she expected today to go. ... but she wasn't complaining. After a moment of shocked silence, she quietly spoke up again, glancing over to the originator's room. "... do..." She started hesitantly. Was this something she could just ask a stranger? ... well, the stranger probably knew more than her. "D-do you think you can talk some sense into him?" She asked, fidgeting with the bottle. The vampire tilted her head at the question. "He won't come out of his room, he... he feels so guilty. He won't listen to me..."

Samantha grimaced at the others words. "... y-yeah." She said, glancing the same direction she was. "I can see why." She sighed, taking the bottle from the familiar's hands and placing it back into the satchel with the others. She handed it to Lucy. "I-I don't really know him, but... I can give it a shot."

She nodded, taking the bag from her and slinging it over her shoulder. "I'll go with you."

This seemed like a terrible idea, having a stranger attempt to comfort Alex... but she didn't have any other options. He wasn't listening to her, and he certainly wasn't going to take the bottles of blood from her, not with how he was acting before. She didn't have a choice... she was just thankful that Samantha was willing to give it a shot.

The two stepped into the room, seemingly exactly the same as Lucy left it an hour before. She set the satchel on the sorcerer's desk while the visitor fidgeted in front of the bed. He glanced at the familiar over the covers when he heard the brief clatter of the bottles, giving her a look of muffled confusion. He looked over to see the stranger, blinking as his expression shifted to a much more outwardly confused one. He reached over to grab his glasses off his nightstand, fumbling with them as put them on his face. "... who the fuck are-"

She raised her hands again, forcing a nervous smile as she took a few steps closer, the other vampire leaning away in response. "This is Samantha." Lucy said suddenly, earning a jolt from the blue haired sorcerer. "She... she's a vampire too."

Alex blinked at her words, he began to fumble with his words for a moment before clearing his throat, which was clearly dry. "... y-you tracked down... a vampire...?" He guessed hesitantly. "And... brought... her...? Here...?"

She let out a quiet, nervous chuckle at the guess. "W-well... no." She offered the orange haired sorcerer a nervous glance. "M-more like the vampire... tracked down you, and came here herself."

"But! I'm not gonna hurt you or anything!" She quickly added, starting to get a little jumpy. "I'm just... here to talk. Lucy said you... weren't getting out of bed." She cleared her throat before shoving her hands in her pockets, looking to the ground. "... may I sit down?"

The familiar quickly brought the desk chair to her, while the other looked on in confusion. What did she mean she tracked him down? How? Was he that obvious?! Oh Revaew, how many people knew-

"I'm a vampire too, like Lucy said." She started, knocking the sorcerer out of his train of thought. "And I... I know how it is."

He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He just stared wide-eyed at the person in front of him. After a moment, he turned his gaze downward, pulling the blankets back up as he pulled his knees to his chest. "... i-it... it was an accident..." He said, his tone quiet and reserved.

"I know." She quickly answered, giving a brief glance to Lucy. "I know how it feels, to... to lose control. After going too long without feeding. Did you... even know you were a vampire, before that...?" He shook his head, staying silent. "It wasn't your fault-"

"Yes it was..." He interjected, shoving his head into his knees.

Samantha let out a sigh. Oh boy, this wasn't going to be easy... she looked to Lucy again, glancing between the satchel and her. After a moment, the familiar got the message, and handed her a bottle from the bag. She scooted her chair closer, and tapped the sorcerer's shoulder, showing him the bottle. "... what's that...?"

"It's a bottle of blood." She answered, holding it out to him.

"I don't want it." He snapped, curling back up.

"If you don't drink blood, you will go crazy again. And someone will get hurt again." She snapped right back, her expression betraying a slight bit of annoyance. She huffed, setting the bottle on the nightstand. "My family runs a business." She started, rummaging around in her pockets for a moment. "It's... it... where is it-" After a moment of looking, she pulled out a small paper card. It looked like a business card. "It's uh. It's like a blood drive. We help other vampires who want to... feed discretely." She set the card on the nightstand as well. "We're just in the next town over, if you ever need anything."

Alex didn't answer, he barely moved. It wasn't even clear if he was paying attention to what she had just said. She huffed, getting up out of her chair. "I know you heard me." She said, before walking out of the room. Lucy have a small, lingering look to him before following, leaving the other bottles on the desk.

The two girls walked over towards the door, the orange haired vampire turning to face the familiar as she spoke, just as she was in front of the exit out into the hallway. "Thank you for trying." She said, quietly.

"No problem, though I'm not sure I was much help..." She answered, giving a sigh. "Feel free to drag 'em to my parents place, I feel like they could probably get through to him better than I can."

She nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

Samantha gave another sigh, before turning to the door. "I hope the three of us will see each other again." She said, trying to sound a bit more upbeat.

Lucy gave a smile at her tone, this one a little less strained. "The feeling is mutual, Samantha."

----------------------------------------------------------------

Alex had finally gotten out of his bed after the two had left the room, his ear pressed to the door as he listened to what they were saying. He was probably never going to get over what he did... ... but he still had to start somewhere, didn't he?

He walked over to his bed as he heard the front door close, sitting down on the side. He picked up the card between two fingers, reading it under his breath. "... for entrance to the Ichabod family 'blood drive'..." He squinted at the card, having a slight bit of difficulty reading the hand writing. "... all blood goes to those who need it..." He flipped the card over, revealing a symbol almost identical to Samantha's cloak clasp. A red teardrop, though there was some black ivory around it on the card. He sighed, setting it back down on the nightstand. He glanced to the dark red bottle, hesitantly picking it up with both hands. It was not... a small bottle. It felt cold to the touch. Probably enchanted to keep the blood from going bad... He gave it small experimental shake, and took the lid off. The scent hit his nostrils almost immediately, his stomach growling in response. He could see the reflection of his dimly glowing red eyes on the bottle. After a few moments of silent hesitation, he took a sip from the bottle. And then another, much bigger sip. Before he knew it, he'd emptied half the bottle.

He rubbed his mouth with his sleeve, putting the lid back on the chilly bottle, and setting it back on his nightstand. He let out another deep sigh. "... this is my life now." He said, his tone still as resigned as ever. 

"... but... nowhere to go but up, I suppose."

#Vaal Writes #Vaal OCs #AFW #Vampire!Alex AU #Alex #Lucy #and also the debut of...! #Samantha Ichabod #woooo new oc :D #new spur of the moment oc that i made on a whim bc i needed someone to fill a specific role asdklfjn- #but sTILL #NEW C H I L D #anyway yes i had fun writing this #and i hope y'all have fun reading it :D #also what happened to the line #that line u could put to separate sections of post #what happened to that adsflkjn-

[rainythefox]

Oh, Brother (RDR2 Fanfic CH.5/Final Chapter)

Synopsis: 1885, Illinois. A young Dutch, Hosea, and Arthur wander into a country town following a lead to swindle a wealthy homestead and break their control over the town. But while scoping it out, Arthur encounters a young John Marston, setting fate in motion that will eventually become a rocky, yet loyal brotherhood. A short multi-chapter story revolving around how Dutch, Hosea, and Arthur met John. (Rated T for violence and swearing) (Mostly Adventure/Friendship/Humor)

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Chapter 5

Six months later...

"Relax."

The breath that came from John's lips was shaky. Arthur reached out and cupped a hand over the drawn revolver that quivered in John's fingers. He steadied the boy, looking down the range where the bottles sat atop the fence.

"Keep steady now. The key is to breathe in and then release it slowly and pull the trigger. Don't anticipate the kick, or you'll always miss your mark. You gotta get used to it."

Arthur stepped back, allowing John some space. John stared down the bottles with a determined gleam in his eye. He fidgeted on his feet, arm extended out with the revolver.

Arthur smacked the boy upside the head.

"Ow!"

"Steady, I said, boy!"

John focused again, letting a breath slip from his lips. He pulled the trigger. The revolver went off, a loud bang to their ears, the kickback tossing John's arms up.

All bottles remained unscathed. John growled in frustration.

"I killed a man with one of these things but now I ain't got the nerve to shoot a bottle."

Arthur chuckled. "That was luck back then. And luck's nice to have, but it ain't always gonna save you. You got plenty of nerve, kid. It's confidence you lack. Here."

Arthur picked his hat off his head and plopped it on John's head, grinding it down on his scalp and getting a small giggle out of the thin boy.

Arthur wasn't sure why, but John liked his hat, even still after running with them for six months. He never gave a reason to Arthur on why, but he guessed it didn't really matter. He'd let John wear it time to time, and it gave the boy a boost of confidence needed in his teachings.

"Now, let's try again. Spread your feet a bit further apart. There ya go. Aim with a steady hand."

Arthur fixed how John held his arms out with the gun aimed.

"Good. Now remember the breathin'. Don't anticipate the kick. Shoot that green bottle now. Go on. You can do it."

John sucked in a deep breath and released it. He pulled the trigger and the shot rang out across the valley. The green bottle shattered on the fence.

John's mouth opened wide with a grin as he jumped in victory. "Yes! I did it, did you see it, Arthur?!"

Arthur walked over and patted him on the back. "Damn kid, good shot! You keep that up, you'll be shootin' better than me."

John laughed. "I wish. There's no way I can shoot like you or Dutch. And I don't even wanna think 'bout tryin' to beat Hosea. You're the fastest I've seen with a six shooter and I saw Dutch shoot a bird out of the sky through the trees with his revolver. And Hosea hit a deer in the eye on a runnin' horse with his rifle."

Arthur took back his hat, ruffling the boy's hair. "Hosea will probably outshoot us well after he's old 'n gray."

"Probably."

Arthur nodded his head towards the grazing horses. "C'mon. I reckon we better get back to camp and skin that pronghorn or we'll be goin' hungry tonight. Besides, you got more lessons comin' up."

John groaned. "What's so important about readin' and writin' anyway?"

They mounted their horses and started back towards camp. John guided his horse to canter alongside Arthur's horse, where their freshly killed pronghorn was stowed.

The Wyoming valley extended in rolling, grassy hills around them within clusters of trees and surrounding mountains. The sun was high with not a cloud in sight, but the wind nipped hard on their skin, warning of coming winter.

Arthur took a drink out of his water canteen and passed it to John. "If Dutch and Hosea say it's important, then it's important. Ya need to be literate in the jobs we do."

"Sometimes I think that's harder than learnin' how to ride a horse or shoot a gun."

Arthur nodded with a soft laugh. "Yeah, it's hard sometimes. They taught me, same as you. I reckon if they can teach a dummy like me, then they can teach you too. I mean look at you. It didn't take long for you to learn how to ride a horse."

"I guess so…"

They rode together side by side while chatting. John could be a talkative boy and today he was full of questions. Arthur kept an eye out around them as they crossed a bridge over a low-running creek into a field of sagebrush and boulders.

His eye caught something down near the water and he quickly pulled on the reins to stop his horse. He recognized the familiar flower that bloomed there, the soft pink petals and dark anthers stood out amongst the reeds and mud.

Arthur got off his horse. He couldn't believe it. He didn't think he was far enough west yet to find one. The flower was his mother's favorite, and he remembered her telling him it brought good luck. He was so young when she passed, it was one of the few precious memories he had of her.

"What is it?" John asked.

"I'll be right back," Arthur replied, sliding down the slope into the creek bed.

Arthur wasn't surprised that John's curiosity and stubbornness got the best of him. He followed Arthur down into the creek bed on his horse. The steed nickered nervously around the reeds and muck.

"John, better not get down in this on that horse," Arthur warned.

"I'm fine."

Arthur bent down once reaching the flower. He admired it for a moment, caressing its petals. He reached down and grabbed the stem, carefully pulling it from the soil.

Just as Arthur stood his full height, he heard it. The unmistakable, nerve-shattering, dreadful noise of a vibrating rattle. He froze, looking into the reeds, but John's horse spooked. The gelding reared with a loud neigh, tossing John of its back and bolted.

John fell with a yelp into the reeds and muck. Arthur scanned the green stalks for movement, his hand hovering over his holstered revolver.

"John, don't move!"

He saw the serpent, the bend in the reeds as it slithered by in haste. Arthur drew his gun and shot it. John got up, his body and clothes now covered with muck. He flicked his hands to cast off excess mud, curling his lip in disgust.

"Ew!"

"I told you not to bring that horse down here, boy."

John spat out mud from his mouth. "Yeah, yeah."

Arthur picked up the rattlesnake, looking the limp body over. He grinned at John and his now even dirtier appearance. "Miss Grimshaw ain't gonna allow that, ya know."

"I'll wipe it off as soon as we get back, don't worry."

"Somehow, I don't think that's gonna be enough."

Arthur cut the rattle off the dead viper and extended it out towards John. John smiled and took it, testing the rattle out with a shake.

"Neat!"

"C'mon, best we get back and clean you up."

Arthur looked over the flower one last time before slipping it inside his satchel. Luckily, John's horse didn't flee far, taking comfort next to Arthur's horse. They climbed up and headed out once more.

"So, what's with the flower?"

Arthur frowned, wondering if he should tell him or not. "It was my Ma's favorite flower. One of the few things I remember 'bout her. She died when I was real young. I always pick one when we come out this way. They only grow out west."

"Oh."

Arthur glanced over at John. The boy became solemn, his eyes falling to the mane of his horse.

"What is it?"

"I never knew my Ma. S-She died havin' me. My Pa never told me much 'bout her."

Arthur understood how the poor boy felt, and sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Me too."

They were quiet for several minutes. Arthur scratched his cheek, uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. "Susan's strict but she cares a lot more than she lets on. And-And Bessie, well, she's the gentlest woman I know. I've come to care for them as mothers, in their own ways. I'm sure you will too. Them two ladies would never let anyone touch a hair on your head. Bessie for sure. She has quite the soft spot for you."

John smiled. "I like Bessie a lot. She's the nicest lady I've ever met. I-I like Miss Grimshaw too. I know she cares, even when she's bein' tough on me."

Arthur chuckled. "I'd be pissin' my pants more if I saw them two comin' after me after you were hurt even over Dutch 'n Hosea. You ever see Miss Grimshaw grab a shotgun while fumin' you better hunker down, boy, 'cause things are 'bout to get ugly. Hah!"

John laughed with him. "I wouldn't doubt that! She can be scary."

They took another trail going up into the evergreen forest along a rocky ridge. The path was worn down to dirt and rocks that jutted out from the soil, so they had to slow their pace some for the horses. Camp wasn't far now.

"I overheard Hosea and Bessie talkin' a couple weeks back, not long after we got here."

"You're a nosy little bugger aren'tcha?"

"Hey, they thought everyone was sleepin' and I happened to not be. But anyways, well, it worried me a bit. Sounded like they wanted to leave us."

Arthur shot his eyes over at John from those words. "Surely, you misheard. What did ya hear?"

"Bessie asked Hosea if they would ever try again. To leave this life behind and start their own family. Hosea asked her if she wanted to, but I didn't hear an answer. I dunno if she shook her head or what. But it's what Hosea said next that confused me."

"What did he say?"

John thinned his lips, thinking back. "He said…he said there's an internal conflict within Dutch, one that he doesn't even know about. And Hosea said he has to stay by his side…to keep Dutch from feeding an inner wolf…whatever that means. That he has to guide Dutch as well as protect us. He said he fears that Dutch is becoming disillusioned with his own beliefs, but I don't know what he means."

Arthur scowled, not sure what to take from those words either. For some reason, he thought back to Dutch's behavior at the Warren homestead when they saved John from being hanged. Arthur didn't see anything wrong with what Dutch did, seeing it as an "eye for an eye" for what Mr. Warren tried to do to a young boy, for all the corruption he was behind in Hickory and Andell. But there had been a certain…burning in Dutch's eyes that Arthur had never seen before.

Arthur shrugged. "Eh, Hosea worries too much sometimes. I'm sure it's nothin'. He and Bessie tried goin' straight once and came back. The thing is…Dutch and Hosea are a package. One cannot function without the other. Like buddy-sour horses if you try and separate 'em."

"So, it's nothin' to worry 'bout?"

"Nah, 'course not."

"Oh, good."

They came upon the camp, hidden in a glade within the spruce forest and half surrounded by an overhanging cliff. The tents and wagon were stationed around the rocky opening. A campfire was smoldering near some sitting stones and a log. The horses were hitched in a grassy patch near the cliff.

The gentle rumble of a small waterfall sounded on the other side of the cliff as the water cascaded into a basin next to the camp before flowing out into a large river.

Arthur and John hitched their horses with the others and got off. Arthur took the pronghorn off his horse and carried it over to the butcher table to skin later.

He looked around camp. Bessie was washing clothes in the basin while Susan hung some sheets up to dry. Hosea and Dutch were at a table, a chessboard in between them. Both looked to be in deep thought as they considered their tactics. Dutch was black and Hosea white, but Arthur didn't understand chess too well and so was lost at who was winning.

Arthur and John had just taken off their satchels and gun holsters when Susan stamped their way with a look in her eye.

"Uh oh," John muttered.

"John Marston, look at you! You look like you've been in a pigsty!"

"Sorry Miss Grimshaw, my horse threw me on the way home. I'm goin' over to the water barrel right now."

"Oh no! That won't do. You need a bath!" Susan pointed down nearby at the basin of clear, cold water.

John's eyes went wide. "What?! No way! I'd rather be eaten by wolves!"

John slipped behind Arthur to avoid Susan's grabbing hands. Susan stepped around Arthur's back, and the two preceded to chase each other around, using Arthur as an obstacle. Arthur watched them go round and round while arguing, catching Bessie's and their leaders' attentions.

"Arthur, help me!" John cried.

"It's just a bath, you little imp!"

Arthur groaned. He reached out and grabbed John, picking the boy up off the ground easily. He started walking for the basin with John fighting his clutches.

"There's no use fightin' it, John. Let's just get this over with."

He stopped at the water's edge. The water was clear and clean, but the basin sloped fast, becoming deep and turning dark blue in the middle. There were tons of fish in the water, and a gentle ripple came from the waterfall.

"I know you don't like water, but the sooner you get clean, the sooner we can get about our business."

"It's not that!" John hollered, squirming. "I…I can't swim!"

Arthur narrowed his brows. "Whatchu mean you can't swim?"

"Just that, ya dummy! I never learned and ever since I almost drowned, I've been scared to! Now let me go!"

"I know how to fix that."

"Wha-?"

Arthur tossed John into the basin. Susan gawked, jaw going wide as the splash sounded across camp. John burst out of the surface, gasping, limbs flailing. Soon Dutch, Hosea, and Bessie ran up.

"Kick them legs and move them arms, you'll learn!" Arthur yelled.

"You're evil!"

"Arthur, what the hell are you doing?!" Dutch snapped.

"What? That's how my Pa taught me," Arthur defended.

"Your daddy wasn't exactly right in the head then!" Hosea exclaimed.

"Well, he-" Arthur started, but Dutch smacked him hard across the back of the head. "Ow, hey!"

"Get in there and get him before he drowns!"

Arthur jumped into the water and swam the short distance to John. The clean, blue water turned brown from the muck washing away from the flailing boy. Arthur reached out and snagged John, and like a prickly bur, the wild boy seized onto him and wouldn't let him go.

He got to the basin edge and was helped out by Dutch and Hosea. John clung onto Arthur's back, terrified, soaked, and shivering.

"Sorry, John. I thought it would work with you too."

They helped John down. The boy glared up at Arthur, still shivering and dripping wet. "Your pa was an evil bastard, Arthur!"

Arthur shrugged. "I mean, ya ain't wrong."

"You alright, John?" Hosea asked.

"I think…so."

Dutch sighed. "Susan, Bessie, could you please clean him up?"

"Sure, Dutch," Susan replied.

Bessie took John's hand and guided him for the wagon to clean him up and get him fresh clothes. John followed silently, leaving a dripping trail behind.

Arthur felt Dutch's and Hosea's chastising glares on him. He blinked at them. "What?! He got clean didn't he?!"

Dutch shook his head. "You just graduated to a new level of big brother."

"Try to refrain from throwing John into bodies of water in the future until we can teach him how to swim…the proper way," Hosea said.

"Alright, sure." Arthur scratched the back of his neck, looking down at his own soaked form. "Well, s'cuse me, gentlemen. I better change and get to skinnin' an animal."

The sun had disappeared beyond the western horizon, and the stars glowed like perfect orbs across a black sky. Like infinite shining jewels, they lit the sky up in a spray of brilliance. They glimmered so vibrantly, Arthur felt he could reach up and pluck one from the heavens. He admired their beauty while eating his supper. They seemed so…endless.

John sat beside him, wolfing his stew down. The boy still ate like a starved dog, and Arthur was sure the boy ate nearly double he did. He had gained a little weight since being with them, but was still a scrawny twig.

He was clean now, even his hair seemed a bit less greasy. Arthur was surprised he was even sitting next to him. John sure had been mad for Arthur throwing him into the basin.

"John, I'm…sorry for that. I didn't know that almost drownin' freaked you out that much. Ya know, when my Pa did that to me, I panicked, but…but I learned. I guess."

John wiped his mouth with his sleeve, looking up at him. "It's alright. I know you meant well, even if it was really mean. But your Pa…well he weren't right in the head!"

Arthur laughed. "Not arguin' with ya there. But hey, we'll teach ya properly, whenever you're ready."

"Okay."

Dutch approached them at the campfire, a cigar curled in a finger. Hosea and Bessie played dominoes at the table while eating, and Susan read at the other end of the campfire while she ate.

"Arthur, I'm going to need you to come into town with me tomorrow."

Arthur sat his empty plate aside, nodding. "Alright, sure, Dutch. What're we doin'?"

"Meeting a man named Colm O'Driscoll. Supposed to have a good handle on any jobs out this way. We could help each other. He mostly works in California, which is where we're headed. So…could be a promising start."

"Oh, can I come, Dutch?" John asked, thrilled.

Dutch smirked, flicking the ash of his cigar into the campfire. "No, son. Not this time. It may be dangerous. I appreciate your enthusiasm though. Don't worry, you'll get to come with us soon enough."

John frowned. "Okay."

"How's your shootin' coming along?" Dutch asked him.

John glanced up at Arthur then smiled at Dutch. "Comin' along real good, Dutch. I'm gettin' better!"

"Good to hear. Say, how about you and I go out shooting when we get back from town tomorrow? I think it's my turn to give Arthur a little break anyways. I can show ya a little trick you may like."

"Really? Sure!"

Dutch chuckled, ruffling John's head. "That's my boy. Now, don't forget you have a study session with me and Hosea after supper, ya hear?"

"Oh, right. Yes sir."

"Arthur, try to get to bed at a decent time tonight. I need you well-rested for tomorrow, son."

"Don't worry 'bout me, Dutch. I'll be ready."

Dutch patted his shoulder and left the campfire. Arthur sighed and scooped up his empty plate and spoon. John handed over his empty plate as well.

"You want seconds?" Arthur asked.

John shook his head. "Nah, I better get my study over with."

"Yeah, I better get my chores done."

"Will I ever get to go with you and Dutch on jobs?"

"Well, sure. You just got to get better at shootin' and readin' and writin'. You're getting there, John. Dutch is real proud, he praises 'bout you all the time. You'll get to come with us before you know it."

"Ugh, just seems like I'll never get the hang of it."

"You will. I thought the same too. Dutch and Hosea and well…me also…we just don't want anythin' bad to happen to ya. We're just bein' protective, is all."

That got a smile out of John, and he looked grateful. "Thank you, Arthur."

Arthur playfully smacked the boy on the arm. "Course! Now, get over there and learn some readin'. Maybe we can play some dominoes later."

John left to go to Dutch's tent. Arthur took their plates to the wash bin and went to feed and brush the horses. Since the sun went down, the temperature dropped considerably. Arthur knew that winter was getting close, and hoped they would make it to California before the first snow.

After tending to the horses, Arthur helped Susan and Bessie with the laundry and dishes. He stopped to peak into Dutch's tent. A lantern lit the tent up, and showed Dutch sitting next to John and Hosea sitting across from them. John looked like he was mouthing something from a book.

"He's such a good kid. I'm so glad we found him," Bessie said, looking over at the tent as well. "He deserves much better than what's he had growing up."

Arthur slowly nodded. "Yeah. We all had it rough, but he…well, it ain't been easy for the boy. You can tell he ain't used to nobody carin'."

"You're right. He's sure has taken to you though. Follows you all over the camp…eager to go with you hunting or shopping."

Arthur rubbed his neck. "Yeah, well, he likes to follow Dutch around too, ya know."

Bessie giggled. "Ain't nothin' to be embarrassed about, Arthur. He looks up to you. That's always a nice thing."

Arthur softly snorted a chuckle, lowering his head. "Well, he likes you a lot, Bessie. I think…I think he may see you as a mama he ain't never had."

Bessie put a hand over her heart, a smile gracing her beautiful face. "That…That means so much to me. I'm happy to hear that."

Bessie stood up on her tip toes and kissed Arthur on the cheek. "G'night, dear. You boys be careful in town tomorrow, ya hear?"

"Yes, ma'am. G'night."

Arthur went to his tent to do some writing in his journal. He kicked his boots off and took his hat from his head. He pulled the flower from his satchel and admired it for a moment, thinking back to the blurry memories of his mother. He placed the flower in a jar and sat it to the side by his bag and weapons and his pictures.

John's writing and reading lesson went on longer than Arthur thought it would, and so by the time he was done scribbling in his journal, John finally appeared and crawled into the tent with him. Arthur wasn't surprised. The boy had his own tent now, but there were many nights that he slept with Arthur in his tent. It annoyed Arthur at first, but he had come accustomed to it and didn't gripe about it…too much.

"How'd it go?" Arthur asked, shading the sketch he drew of his Ma's flower.

"Good, I s'pose. Went on longer than usual. We didn't even get to play a game."

"Maybe tomorrow then."

"You draw really good."

Arthur pulled the journal closer to him so John couldn't see. "Don't be peekin'. This is for my eyes only."

"Dutch has a similar journal. He has some drawings in there, but not as much as yours. He writes real fancy though. Maybe one day I'll be able to read what it says."

Arthur heaved a sigh. "You ain't supposed to read or go through other people's things. It's rude and wrong. Better not let Dutch catch ya doin' that, or he may tan your hide."

"Ain't that what we do though? We go through folks' things and steal them?"

Arthur snorted. "Gotta point there. I meant your friends' things."

"Do they always stay up late talkin'?" John asked, looking out of the tent.

Arthur followed his gaze out of the tent and across the way. Hosea and Dutch sat at the table, both peering at the stars as they smoked on cigars. Hosea pointed at something in the sky while talking, but Arthur couldn't make the words out.

"Most nights, yeah."

"What do they talk about?"

Arthur grumbled. "I dunno. Life, philosophy, their dreams. All kinds of things."

"Must be nice to have a friend that you can do that with. To have all your trust in, to care for you and have your back. That you can tell all your hopes and fears to and-and know they will do anythin' for you."

Arthur closed his eyes, releasing a quiet breath. He reached over and grabbed his hat. He placed it on John's head. John smiled, his eyes tearing away from Dutch and Hosea to look up at Arthur.

"You have that right here. We all got your back, kid. We all care about you, and will never let anything like what happened back at that homestead ever happen to you again. You need someone to confide in…we're here."

John's cheeks flushed, but he looked so happy as he reached up at felt Arthur's hat. "Thanks…Arthur. I…I never thought I would find a place I could belong."

"Well, now you have."

"I promise, I will learn and become strong like you and will return it...I'll be loyal and strong and do anything in my power to help and protect you folks. I care 'bout all y'all very much."

Arthur chuckled. "Alright, alright. No need to get all emotional. I get ya and I have no doubt in it. Now, c'mon, let's get some shut eye. We got a long day tomorrow."

Arthur laid on his pallet and fluffed his pillow. He sat his journal aside by his satchel. John got comfortable on the other side of the tent on his own pallet, still keeping Arthur's hat on his head.

"Why do you like my hat so much anyways?" Arthur asked as he snuffed out the lantern.

"I don't really know. When I first saw you in Hickory, I just thought it was neat looking, and wanted it. But now…I think it's 'cause it's yours, and it makes you look like one of them legends or heroes you hear in them wild west tales. And when I wear it…I feel like maybe I can be like you one day. Brave, and strong, and loyal. That I can be a good man."

"Not sure if I'm any good. What we do ain't good. But you'll be a man one day. I plan to give that hat to my son, if I ever have kids that is. But who knows…maybe one day, I'll give it to you instead."

"I always wondered what it would be like."

Arthur glanced over John's way, but couldn't see him in the dark. Only the dancing of flames shimmered within the tent.

"Wondered what?"

"What it would be like to have a brother."

Arthur softly smiled. "Me too."

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan #john marston #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews

[aion-rsa]

With Crystal of Storms, Rhianna Pratchett Helps Reboot Fighting Fantasy Roleplay Books

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Writer Rhianna Pratchett, known for video games including the Tomb Raider reboot and  the Overlord series, returns to an early staple of role-playing gaming with Fighting Fantasy. Pratchett’s book, Crystal of Storms, takes players into a fantasy police procedural on a floating island. 

She’s one of only two guest writers for the franchise, and the first woman to put her stamp on it. With a strong career of her own and the legacy of her father Terry’s Discworld series, her quirky take on the fantasy procedural is part of Scholastic’s revitalization of Fighting Fantasy. 

Developed in the 80s, Fighting Fantasy works as an introduction for kids to fantasy roleplaying. Players can use dice or flip the pages to roll different outcomes for their characters. Items, stat trackers, and alternate origin stories make Fighting Fantasy more complicated than a choose-your-own-adventure book but still easy to play solo. 

“We’re delighted to welcome Rhianna to the world of Fighting Fantasy,” Ian Livingstone, co-creator of Fighting Fantasy, said. “Her charming writing style and clever, imaginative world-building in Crystal of Storms is a new take on the genre and a joy to read.”

Den of Geek called Pratchett to talk about humor, fantasy, narrative design for games, and more. 

This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

Den of Geek: How does a Fighting Fantasy game work? 

Pratchett: Ian Livingstone and Steve Jackson created Fighting Fantasy back in the 80s. I read it as a kid. You choose where the adventure goes. You make choices as you encounter different scenarios, characters, and monsters. You pick up potions and weapons, various things that can help. Just like in an RPG game, except it’s all text. For the choices you make, you turn to different sections of the book and see what the results of those choices are. 

You can use traditional dice, and there’s a section at the back where you can record your stats and rolls to see how a battle will turn out. You can record your gold, the provisions, any code words, things like that. But you could also use the pages themselves as dice rolls because every page has a pair of dice with numbers on it, so if you don’t have dice, randomly flick through the book and stop on a page, and on the corner it will tell you what the dice roll will be. Which is very handy. There’s something nice about using physical dice while you’re playing it, so it’s very interactive. 

As an older adult you don’t have dice about as much as you do as a kid! I had to go out and get dice and pencil when I was doing research!

What was your process for world building for the archipelago of Pangaria?

I came up with the overarching idea based on an amalgamation of a few things. There was a bit in Gates of Death (a previous Fighting Fantasy book by guest author Charlie Higson) where you interact with goblins that have a flying machine. I thought that sounds pretty cool. I wonder if you could go bigger with that? I was also reading a news story about cloud formations that look like cities. No one knows why! Those things merged in my head, the city in the sky, the goblins, and their flying machine. It had been a long time since I’d read classic Fighting Fantasy books. I wanted very specific areas I could develop in the same way you’d develop a level for a game. That’s why I had the archipelago and the different islands that all have different roles within the economy of Pangaria. So you’ve got the water island, the farming island, the technomancy island. Technomancy, which is halfway between magic and technology, is what underpins the whole of Pangaria. It’s what makes the islands fly, what powers the storm crystals you have in these portable wings you can wear to fly around different islands. There are these little goblin airbuses that go between islands as well. I wanted to create distinct areas I could personalize, make unique, and have fun with and create original monsters for as well as delving into the archives and coming up with some classic monsters that hadn’t been seen for a while. It was a good mixture of that.

A lot of it I did on the fly. Ian Livingstone told me how hard it was. I thought he was joking with me. “Oh, he’s just trying to scare me,” but it is very hard. If Ian Livingstone tells you that, it probably is hard given that he’s written so many of them. Ultimately your writing will not end up in a linear form. Each page has multiple sections, all of which are numbered. You need to make sure you have enough sections, about 400 sections, and that they’re covering enough words, and they’re not next to each other. All that can be quite difficult to manage. Fighting Fantasy authors have different ways of doing it. Ian writes it out freehand. I started doing that, then I did a flow chart. That was becoming too time consuming, so I started an Excel document with colors for different sections, and the pages, and the different islands. Which more or less worked. So I devised my own system for how it works. I had the great Jonathan Green, who is a Fighting Fantasy author who’s written a lot, helping guide me through the world. Particularly with things like boss fights, how to structure fights in the Fighting Fantasy style, and how to do things like have little moments within the boss fights where you can roll the dice to do something specific.

The thing that underpins Pangaria is a combination of the goblins’ tech and creatures called stormborns, that are a bit like jinns as we know them, but not like jinns in the Fighting Fantasy world. They’re like elementals that live in and around the Ocean of Tempests, which is where Pangaria is situated. It’s floating in the eye of the storm, protected from the outside world by this giant tempest. The stormborns harvest storm crystals from the tempests, which are used to power the goblins’ tech. 

You start off as a member of the Sky Watch, which are more or less like the police force, but Pangaria is largely peaceful. You don’t have much to do and you’re a little bit bored and wishing for adventures. You find yourself the only Sky Watch member left. All the other recruits are on the Nimbus island, which crashes into the ocean at the start of the story. 

All the islands are named after clouds. There are five islands, around a sixth central island. The sixth crashes out of the sky and you have to visit the other islands and find out what happened to the island, how to get down there, who’s responsible for it. It’s a fantasy police procedural set on a floating archipelago, basically. 

Did your history writing video games help in putting this book together?

Certainly the level design aspect. I wouldn’t call myself a game designer, although I would call myself a narrative designer, which is kind of a subset of game design. I have had to pick up a lot along the way, and I have had to work on games which were very level based. Each level has its own unique aesthetic and personality and characters and things like that. So I’m used to creating mini-worlds within worlds. So that really helped. 

Usually, I don’t get the opportunity to write fights as part of my job when I work on games because that’s usually done with whoever’s dealing with the gameplay mechanics. That’s not usually me, unless there is a substantial bit of narrative embedded into the fight. For smaller, indie projects like Lost Words: Beyond The Page, my last game, I had quite a big role in coming up with some of the mechanics and level design aspects because they were so heavily tied to the narrative in that game. I’d been working on it for three or four years on and off. My brain had developed in a way that when I took on this project I understood things on an intrinsic level that maybe if I hadn’t been in video games for so long I wouldn’t have understood so easily. I understand the pace of games and I could bring that to the table. 

Also brevity! In games you have to learn to be succinct. If you’re dealing with lots of little sections and you have to write 400 or so sections, you have to be economical about your words. 

What is your history with Fighting Fantasy?

I played them when I was 8 or 9 years old. I used to get them out from my local library. In fact I think I got a threatening letter from my library when I was a child because I’d held on to the book so long. I thought they were threatening me with taking me to court!

As the first female author in the series, do you bring an element to it that girls and women would particularly appreciate?

Ian and Steve have been bringing the books back over the last couple years, and bringing in guest authors like Charlie and myself to work on. It’s fun that there are still areas in this world where women haven’t done anything before. It’s nice but nerve wracking to be the first woman to write one. Our illustrator [Eva Eskelinen] as well is the first woman to illustrate for a Fighting Fantasy book. 

It’s hard to know because I don’t have any frame of reference other than being who I am. A lot of what I did in games narrative was quite new for women to get involved in. There were obviously women who were doing great work in fantasy games in the 80s, Roberta Williams, Jane Jensen, and Christie Marks who did the King’s Quest games, Conquests of Camelot, and the Gabriel Knight games. There are a lot of women who worked in design who were also doing narrative.

I think it’s more than I bring my own sensibilities to it. It’s very difficult to separate what’s me and what’s particularly female. I had to write in the Fighting Fantasy tone, which is quite standard fantasy tone. Not particularly jokey. I probably stretched jokiness and irreverent charm to about as much as I could…I don’t think it’s intrinsically female. It’s intrinsically me. 

Your contribution is described as “narrative rich.” What do you focus on when it comes to giving a unique identity to your own writing style?

As a writer you have to be open to all kinds of information and stories. You need to read. You need to be interested in people and the world. You need content to generate content. You need to pay attention to the news and read around the genre you’re writing for. You need to go as broad as you can, to educate yourself, exercise your imagination and your creativity as a result of that. So I don’t have any particular tools except all the stuff that goes into my brain and comes out. I don’t really know what happens in the middle. Lots of stuff goes in and stories come out! 

I’m often working with stories that exist in part. In games, I coined the term “narrative paramedic” many, many years ago to describe the job a game writer sometimes does where they’re basically handed a box of narrative body parts and you have to assemble them into a story. Or the story is dying very badly and you have to save it. Narrative paramedics often get called in very late in the day. They’re patching up the story, not writing it from the ground up. When I was a games journalist I never met a game writer. I might have met some designers that did some writing. Writing was done literally by whoever had the time and inclination to do it. It could’ve been designers, or producers. It wasn’t done by a professional as a standard. That has changed very much. Game studios are building out their narrative teams. But we’re still working out how to fit writers into the process both in house and freelance. … You still get narrative paramedic jobs, but they’re thankfully less common because more studios have writing teams or relationships with writers.

It was Mary DeMarle, who’s narrative director now at Eidos Montreal, who coined the term narrative designer when she was working on the Myst games. Narrative designer is different to a writer, although those jobs are shared. Writers deal with what you might think of as traditional writing, the story, the dialogue, the cinematics, the VO, letters, documents, graffiti, that kind of thing. Whereas a narrative designer is concerned with how the story gets to the player. How the player will experience it. It could be the player experiences it through cinematics, or level design and art and there’s no traditional narrative. They’re usually a conduit between the writers and the rest of the design team and make sure the needs of the design team are communicated to the writers. Some do writing themselves, some don’t, but they’re really there to make sure the story gets into the game in the best way possible. 

I really like putting humor in games and quirky weirdness that is intrinsically me I think. I worked on all the Overlord games with Triumph Studios and Codemasters years back, and they were fun to write for. There’s not always room to do that in games, but wherever I can. It’s a product of what I read, what I listen to, how I think, how I was raised, what I’ve experienced. 

I’m always very suspicious if writers really have a handle on what is going on inside their heads to produce the stories. It feels a bit magical. Which I know is not helpful, because people would like “you need to do this and this.” There are some of those! But a lot of it is your mind as a writer, your mind you have developed through being open to the world, and letting that percolate. Eventually in the narrative gumbo things will float to the top.

I’m a very multitasking writer. I’m not good at setting hours. I work all hours, mostly during the evening, and its very antisocial but I have a very understanding partner. I wish I was a writer who could get up, start a day at a particular time and end at a particular time. But I’m not. But it works for me! 

Were there any particularly fun ways you worked the mechanics into the story, or anything that would only work in Fighting Fantasy? 

When you’re working in games, you have a fear that someone’s going to press x or spacebar and skip the cutscene or whatever that you’ve spent weeks or months of your life slaving over. It can just be skipped. That’s a risk and the nature of your job. With Crystal of Storms I know readers are engaged. They’re there for the words. Although every player of Fighting Fantasy knows basically that you go to the different sections and learn all the outcomes and choose which one you like best. You learn to have about four different fingers in different sections of the book so you can flick between things to see what the outcomes are. 

What games are you playing nowadays? 

I always like The Long Dark. I always joke with the ghost dad in my head, because my dad was a big gamer. Sometimes I play games because I can tell they’re the kind of game he would like. I have a particular fondness for wilderness survival games because when I was growing up my dad and I lived in the countryside on the edge of a valley, and my dad would take me out walking and teach me about what plants and berries and fungus were edible and which weren’t. Or, I guess, everything is edible once. 

He would teach me a light smattering of wilderness survival, and I was always interested in books that touched on that as a kid. So I really like games like Don’t Starve. I play that a lot with my partner. My partner actually got me a beefalo plushie from Don’t Starve!

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

I’ve also been playing Among Trees, and I’ve started to do a lot of the harder challenges in The Long Dark. We have a bit of a heat wave here in the UK so it makes me feel slightly cooler to be playing a game set in the Canadian snowy wilderness. I am somewhat obsessed with that and my poor partner has to endure tales of how I escaped wolves, and how I shot a moose with one shot and then two wolves got me! The emergent narrative as well as the existing narrative Hinterland [Studio] has done with their story chapters are really, really good. I’ve turned to outdoor games where you’re trumping around in the wilderness in isolation.

Crystal of Storms is out on October 1st. Find out more about it here.

The post With Crystal of Storms, Rhianna Pratchett Helps Reboot Fighting Fantasy Roleplay Books appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

[knight-gwaine]

i keep talkin bout you bc youre my only real way of measuring my progress. you were the best and worst. yesterday or honestly whenever, i made posts along the lines of some shit like you suck ass, which ya do, but if you got your life together we could be friends or sum. but i mean. that’s a concept. what i’m realising is that every day, i’m getting further away from you. and that is a GOD DAMN BLESSING. i say all these nice things but thats for the fake fun and great version of you that exists in my head as just a comforting thought when i feel like thinking about love. but damn, i keep forgetting until i really think about it that, i literally am so fucking happy to be away. i am so happy we never have to be friends again and talk and shit. because you /seem/ cool, especially when we barely talk but if i had to actually deal with you. id rather punch myself in the god damn face. also wow it sucks that id still be down for your dick bc you be lookin like a god damn mess like eww??? i barely /actually/ see you and then when i do i realise oh yeah this b for real aint shit. like i wonder what he is actually getting done w his life. and okay, any progress is great. like if you on your own are trying. great. thats fantastic like im proud of you. everyobe works at their own pace. but in terms of me being friends w you. nah b, you lame as fuck. i aint got time for that. i have been meeting waaayy too many incredible peoole this year and have done waaay to many incredible things to be settlin for someone like you. idk dude. i see you. i hear things about you. i see the shit you do and say and i know you cant judge someone really unless you really get to know em or whatever but sometimes peoples social media and their friends can say a looooottt about them. a lot. and i do not. ever. wanna. fuck. w. you. HEEELLL NOOO.

as much as i wish for myself to never speak of you again and all that. i dont think thats going to happen for a long time. three years is a long time. even if this one seems to have lasted forever, three years is longer. and thinking back on all of it helps me realise how much ive progressed. and how much i keep progressing every day. i literally can only remember one. one. bad day. through this whole year. only one. maybe two? i remember one bad moment? but ive only ever had one bad day.

it is such a feeling. to finally. be free. all my emotions are controlled by me. i never feel depressed and alone on a cloudy quiet sunday. i never feel dreary when its pouring rain out. i never feel affected by the mundane weather. because i have done so much and i honestly will never stop. because what is the point in not trying to have fun and live your best life every moment of your life? fr that one song by anderson paak, i aint never comin down. i spent too much time bein scared and believing i was incapable and antisocial and no one likes me or whatever. but how do people get rid of their fears? you go out and face it. i feel like i can do almost anything now, im not gonna lie. like, if i really want to. because thats genuinely all it takes. if you WANT to do something, you will find a way to do it. so you will succeed. if you WANT to, even if theres everything stopping you, you find a way around it. once you realise that, nothing fucking stops you. i say this same old stuff over and over again but it just took me so long to learn and you hear about it but you never believe it. i still am amazed every day by how my life is now.

i have met some of the most phenomenal and successful people this year. i never would’ve thought first of all that they would even like me or want to talk to me but you would be damn well surprised by people’s kindness. growing up sheltered and being called annoying, dumb, and all other things, you end up believeing no one will like you its just automatic. this year, got to become friends with my favourite people that i always wanted to hang out with. i got to befriend amazing artists and photographers that are huge in my town. everyone who meets me automatically wants to be my friend. even strangers?? random people that sit next to me in class. doing leads you to meet people. and meeting people leads you to doing. its a fantastic cycle if you think about it. life is never boring. i appreciate all the small little things in my life so much more now. everything. if you arent happy with your life, find a way to make yourself happy. you arent stuck unless you give up and stop trying to change yourself. these. are the reasons why i wouldnt want you back in my life. my life is too phenomenal now. my life is too fantastic for you to be in you wouldnt fit. plus, i think im way too positive for you now. and i unapologetically love myself and every aspect of who i am now and i am constantly working on bettering me that i feel like itd just be too much? id be obnoxious to you i feel like?? and youd be boring. you would be boring. i like your interests. i love hearing what you have to say about music and movies and weird random facts but. i also dont trust you to be a good person. after all that you did too, nah. i dont need that negativity. it would be outrageous for me to believe we are connected in anyway. i hope. i mean this in all honesty with my whole being. i hope youre happy w your girl or whateva bc i want you outta mine. she better be takin fuckin care of your dumbass though i stg. i dont care when my boys get w other girls as long as i know their taken care of. vasya when he got w chelsea? immediately got over my crush for him and was happy af bc she was better than me. max, if he gets w anyone aside from cheyenne i will beat his ass. that b better fuckin be pushing you to strive for the best. she better be pushin you to realise your worth and what youre capable of and pushin you to try new things because LIFE IS TOO FUN TO NOT GO OUT AND HAVE FUN. COOK SHIT TOGETHER. GO HIKE. GO DANCE. DO SHIT. GROW UP. THINK SMART.

i fr dont know what the point of this post is im really out here just writin whatever comes to mind. bc one day i’m gonna go back through all my personal posts and ill remember how my life was rn and ill be like damn. that shit was sick as fuck. life was lit as fuck. tbh i think i was just really shook by that photo of you. ive been writing gay shit bout you for a while and then i saw that and i was like OH FUCK ABORT MISSION THAT B UGLY AS HELL AND HAS NO LIFE BACK OUT BACK OUT and now im here. straight shook. yeah. i dont want you in my life. my life is way better without you. i really am an unstoppable force right now. school is a motherfuckin one. friends are fucking precious and successful amazing wholesome human beings that are also out here doin the motherfuckin most im so proud i love all my friends we are all such successful people with amazing futures ahead of us god im so proud im 😭😭😭 we really out here chasin our dreams n shit. aND SUCCEEDIN. and money situation is L I T. ya baby’s got a fine ass mercedes w the best dad in the world getting me AUTOSTART for this cold winter???? ya baby be workin out and doin yoga everyday, abs comin in HOT. ya gurl developin as an artist with her dream school hittin her the FUCK up for her portfolio?? i am a for real artist now but i refuse to realise my big stuff. only sketches for now, dear world. the public eye doesnt need to see me as an artist yet. no. because they always will bc its always me. but no. i gotta act chill. this isnt the artist years of your life yet. you aint settled down yet no. now is time for fun, life, school, that grind 😤😤, and ecology. BE THAT SICK ASS SCIENTIST BITCH. BE SMART AS FUCK AND SAVE THE EARTH.

2017 got three more months left. i already know that im gonna have the funnest fucking time. fam is leavin for xmas and my sister’s moving out?? ff got house parties like wild?? EVERY MONTH??? northern lights are comin out??? you dont have to wake up early for school so you can go chase them??? A N D YOU HAVE A BUNCHA FRIENDS NOW TO GO WITH??? AND WINTER IS COMING SO THERES GONNA BE MORE EVENTS INSIDE TO GO TO??? AND MEET PEOPLE?? AND YA GETTIN MORE HIGHER PAYING JOBS WITH HELLA TIPS??? YES. i said i was gonna make 2017 my bitch. boy the fuck did i and i am gonna end it with a muthafuckin bang.

#personal #way to hype myself up for the rest of the day

[untilthestarsburnoutrp]

EDEN LEVI DELSADA

The junior raised his brows with an amused smirk when he caught Zepp’s reaction to the text. A short buzz from his own phone caused him to look away as he noted the seniors name on his lock screen.

‘Maybe. He’s just really damn adorable. Writin’ about it in your little diary there boy?’

- Zepp

Eden huffed, strands of wayward curls moved away from his face when he did. His nimble fingers quickly went to work with a response of his own.

‘Why? Need some new jerk off material? I could send you a copy if you want.’

-Eden

The phone went back into his pants pocket as one of his hands reached up to play with a stray curl. The class was forming its respective pairings fast, so Eden had to pick up the pace or get stuck with someone he really didn’t like, but who would he choose? His eyes scanned the classroom for any open volunteers. Saf was a good one, they got along well and he like how motherly she was with everyone, but she was preoccupied with the ever so callous Ezra. So, that was a plain and obvious no. Kaelin was also out of the loop, not that he had any qualms with her either, but Diana would throw herself into a tizzy if he paired with her. She was too busy sharing doe eyed glances at August anyway. Eden wanted to join forces with Emile, but he would literally have to fight Zepp in order for that to happen, again, that idea was a bust. As his eyes quickly assess the frames and outlines of all his peers, Eden caught wind of Eleanor. Perfect.

He had a few classes with the girl before, and both were relatively quaint with the other, so it could work. Eden slipped from his desk and strolled over to her area of the room, thumping into the seat next to her, a friendly smile on his face to greet her. “Hey El, feel like being partners? For future reference, my art skills aren’t that good so sorry if my rendition of you is a little off.” She couldn’t refuse his offer, there weren’t many people left and he doubted that she would look forward to Diana as one of those last-minute choices.

While they talked, his brown eyes noticed Tara and the professor chatting at the front of the room. He didn’t let it show on his face but internally he was giving a questioning brow raise. Was she not comfortable with the project? Tara didn’t have a problem getting along with others, well, others she liked. Maybe it was some other pressing matter, Eden left it at that so that El now had his full attention. “Do you have anything in mind for the project?”

#eden